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phas3d · 5 months

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Celebrity Crush|| Slytherin Boys

type :: fluff

tw/cw :: suggestive jokes (all)

contains :: draco malfoy, tom riddle, mattheo riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire

summary :: you're either friends or enemies and they see you freaking out over your celebrity, making them jealous. they search them up only to find out that the celebrity looks almost exactly like them

alternative :: your celebrity crush looks nothing like them

DRACO (enemies)

Your group just watched the newest movie that came out

Ever since then, you couldn’t stop gushing about how hot the villain was

Although the villain was an awful person, you still went on rants about how fine he is

Your friends kept laughing at how out of pocket your jokes were

“I can fix him I swear, just give me a chance” you grieved as if someone died

"I'm gonna get on all fours and start hitting my chest like a gorilla if he keeps looking this fine" you said with passion, not scared of the whole school hearing you

Draco, despite not wanting to say it, was extremely jealous as he gripped his fork extra hard as he heard you

He was a dick, why didn’t you like him? Maybe he wasn’t hot enough? He’s always been slightly insecure about his appearance

The second lunch ended, he ran to the bathroom and secretly looked up the actor

But as he looked at him… he realized he wasn’t too far off from the actor

Their faces were almost completely different but, they both had short bright blonde hair, cold blue eyes, always wore green, and had similar body types

From seeing that, he smirked to himself and got an ego boost

He goes to sleep with a fat ass grin on his face

He won’t directly say the actor looks like him, but he’ll know it deep down

TOM (friends)

Although Tom could stand being around you, he wished he could mute you out

You two were studying together in his room

Or… he was studying while you kept replaying the same edit of some random celebrity

“He could take my eggs and eat it like skittles”

Tom has literally killed and tortured people but he still widened his eyes slightly at your comment

He felt a small bit of jealousy, but he wasn’t sure if it was because he was scared of losing his only friend or because he liked you

(It’s because he likes you but he’s not that emotionally aware)

Tom has always been nosy, so he tilted slightly to see your phone

That’s when he saw a man with pale skin, brown eyes, and wavy brown hair

But beside those basic attributes, he also had the same nose as him along with a resting bitch face

He doesn’t show it, but on the inside he felt much calmer

It gave him a small sense of hope that maybe one day, he could actually be seen as attractive by someone

No one has ever confessed or even liked Tom romantically throughout his whole life due to his insane hobbies

He sleeps a little bit better with the thought that maybe someone could like him

And he really hopes it’s you :)

MATTHEO (enemies) (I made this so long on accident... whoops)

You two clash constantly due to Mattheo’s class clown behavior and your goody-two-shoes attitude

He was always cracking mean jokes and bullying your friend group since you were kinda nerdy

You despised him and have beaten his ass multiple times (with magic) but he still doesn’t learn his lesson

But that's mainly because he thinks it's hot when you beat his ass and yell at him

Once again, he was walking towards your group to pick on you guys once more, especially you

But that’s when he heard you freak out over some random character

At first he thought it was just some lame anime character, that's how you usually are

But when you start showing your friends the photo-card in the back of your phone, he realizes it’s a real person

Instantly, he's pissed and jealous of a stupid piece of paper

He stalks you until you repeat the celebrities' name so he can google him and ruin his career

But once he looks up the idol, he sees that he also has dark curly hair with deep brown eyes

He actually researches and tries to learn about the idol more so he can take note on what you like

That's when he learns that the idol is known as a funny and protective person, just like him

He giggles to himself and decides to be insanely cocky

He prints out a photo of himself in the same pose as the idol, rounds the corners, and even puts his own signature on the back

The next day, he hands it to you and is smirking to himself

But... surprisingly... you didn't know it wasn't the idol????

You smiled widely and freak out, you thank him and quickly put it in the back of your phone case

From that, he smiles insanely widely. Not only at how cute you were from freaking out, but by also knowing he's on the back of your phone without you even knowing

THEODORE (friends)

He's always known you were a fangirl but it was normally for weird things

You've had a few celebrity crushes over the years, but it's never been this extreme before

"GOD I WANNA LIVE IN HIS TOILET!!!" You shouted as you stared at a photo of the celebrity

Theo never understood how people got so attached but he was curious

How hot was this guy for you to like him THIS much? and why was he so jealous?

Theo has always been confident in his looks since he pulls bitches left and right

But, for some reason, he's suddenly strongly craving your validation

He asks you to show him the celebrity, only to see an almost exact clone of himself

Light fluffy brown hair, green eyes that were the same shape as his, thick brows, and a strong jaw

Theo smiles lightly and shakes his head, you perceived it as him making fun of your crush

You hide your phone from him and proceed to watch a pile of edits of this man on loop

Although he didn't get the hype of being a fangirl, he supported this one

He researches the celebrity during his free time and tries to become more like him slightly

Of course, he doesn't change anything drastically

But he might get the same shirt or shoes as him

LORENZO (rivals?) (can you tell he's my favorite?)

You and Lorenzo were constantly at the top of your charms class within the entire school

Both of you have constantly gone head to head with each other just to compete for first place, only to tie for it together

There was no hatred or extreme feelings, just a fun rivalry that was oddly flirtatious at times

While you were in the library with a few friends studying, you suddenly start slamming your fist on the desk

Lorenzo was often in the library in order to check out new books to read in order to beat you

He looked over, worried that something bad happened

But all he saw was you on the floor, as if you melted, with your phone held high showcasing a man

He was curious as to how you got to the floor so fast despite banging on the table only 2 seconds ago, but he didn't care

Many people in the school shipped you and Lorenzo, but you both always denied it in order to not make it awkward

But, Lorenzo has liked you for ages. Despite that fact that he's a fuckboy, he would give up everything just to kiss you

"I would save his nail clippings and make a necklace out of it" You said in a harsh whisper that made all your friends hold back a laugh

Lorenzo was shocked, he's never seen you be so vulgar

He felt slightly hurt, not only by the fact that you were freaking out over some celebrity but also because he's never seen you act like this with him

"The things I would do for this man is un-ex-plain-a-ble" You aggressively whispered as you slammed your fist on the desk again

The librarian came around and told your whole group to shut up, which made Lorenzo happy

He decided to do his usual routine, he walked up to you and flicked you on the head as a joking gesture

You wince and hold your forehead, that's when he looks at your phone and sees the name of the celebrity

He repeats the name over and over and over and OVER in his head until he gets to his dorm and instantly searches him up on his phone

That's when he sees how similar he is to the celebrity

At first, he was doubting it since he didn't want to be cocky

But he told Theo and Theo instantly agreed, saying the celebrity looks just like him

Sharp jawline and cheekbones, fair skin, soft light brown hair, brown eyes, and even the same body build

He smiled to himself, feeling a bit of self love for himself from seeing how similar he is to your favorite celebrity

He's always been slightly insecure of his body build due to most of the guys in Hogwarts being buff as shit while Lorenzo was slightly more lean

But seeing the celebrity be called the heart-throb of the year made him really happy

After he knows all of this, he's much more confident around you and even finds subtle ways to bring up how he knows your type

Uses this as evidence against you to make you blush during petty arguments

1K notes · View notes

sunboki · 3 months

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— KEEP IT BUSINESS. a Lee Minho fiction

Lee Minho x f. reader

TROPE. best friends to lovers, coworkers! au, first kiss? au (hehe), domestic/soft minho, fluff

WARNINGS. cursing, making-out, inexperienced kissing, annoying coworkers

WORD COUNT. 6.9k words

AUG'S NOTES. so glad to have finally completed this!! it’s been rotting in my drafts for weeks and i just had to write a happy ending for these two grandparents 🫶🏼

PLAYLIST.

SYNOPSIS. Life can be a mess, and with you and Minho as the only two singles in your office building, an impertinent Valentine’s day leaves no choice but to make a pact.

or alternatively :

If we’re still single by twenty-five, we date each other.

Four years.

It’s been four years since you first met Lee Minho, working with him at the same company, becoming the best of friends. And yet, the same dread lay specially reserved for the same season.

The season of love, or, to most people, Valentine’s day.

Alarm set for 6:30AM. Work from 8:30AM to 4PM. Every day of the week, every year.

Initially, the experience was relatively enjoyable. It paid well, wasn’t too harsh on hours, and other coworkers minded their own business (at least in your case) without being a pain.

Then the loneliness set in.

It was subtle at first, a tiny pang in your heart when you returned home to a dark, cold apartment while others would be greeted by a pet, a loved one.

So when Lee Minho, a new member of the company assigned as your apprentice came along, you tend to think meeting him was, in a weird, spontaneous manner, meant to be.

And four years later, when he had grown from that apprentice-ship and became established as an employee, you still hold onto that “meant to be” philosophy.

Busied chatter fills the downstairs cafe, familiar faces alike brimming with conversation, breath coffee-stained.

Peering across the various assortment of tables, you spot him, two identical cups in each hand, wearing that bemused expression as usual.

At this point, Minho has memorized your order by heart, arriving early after his daily stop by the nearby animal shelter (whose manager knew by heart). Most morning’s you’d await a picture of the newest addition to the feline section, a photo he proudly shows off like his own trophy.

You’re genuinely surprised his residence isn’t a constantly growing cat-kingdom.

“Looking forward to it?”

Brows furrowing, you sidle to his right and dish the warm beverage into your grasp.

“Looking forward to wha— wait wait don’t say it. I want to pretend it doesn’t exist.” Hurriedly waving your hands, Minho cracks a grin.

The cursed word in question being: Valentine’s day.

You can’t say you hate it. It never did anything to you, nor did it leave you heartbroken. To put it simply, the office over the first few weeks of February was a close-resembling spinoff to Singles Inferno except, much spicier and way too inappropriate in broad daylight.

Meaning, for the past five years (four joined by Minho), merely mentioning said season of love urges impending dread and deep frowns.

“All I’m gonna say is I would not want to be a doctor over Valentines,” You wince, sipping the warm drink with a squeamish face.

Minho sighs vehemently, propping an elbow against the computer cart behind him.

“I bet you could witness more vibrators in that hospital than in an Adam and Eve,” He grumbles, watchful eyes surveying the daily crowd occupying tables and chairs in the building’s downstairs café.

Slamming a fist to your chest to correct your breathing, your eyes practically bulge from your skull, evidently caught of guard.

Leave it to Minho to make you suffocate before your shift even begins.

8am is prime time for socialization—otherwise before Mrs. Song decides to unleash her wrath on newbies. She has good intentions, sure, but let’s just say most anyone was petrified upon first meeting her.

Luckily, your department with Hyeongmi, Minho, and Felix was secluded on the far side of the building, leaving you out of the woman’s hair, free to work as you please.

Yet, Mrs. Song wasn’t the problem, not when it came down to the month of February.

Your phone’s alarm signaling to start moving momentarily wards off the thought, and either of you begin toward the elevator, flat expressions describing the sinking feeling better than words.

Back at it, again.

Because by your lunch break, you can’t fathom entering the cafeteria, not if it costs you your life.

Everywhere you look someone is making out, confessing their love, or, worst you’ve seen it all day, genuinely fucking in the bathrooms.

Perhaps you’d send Minho a text you’re making an escape by eating in the office, invite him up for some solace.

Except, it seems he had the same idea.

Scrambling through the door, you enter at the same time, heaving sighs of exasperation upon securing much needed privacy.

Making prolonged eye contact, your thoughts come spilling out.

“If I witness another make-out in the stairwell I’m ending it all.”

“Boxes of chocolates are officially ruined for me now.”

Four years and it never gets old. Same old painful memories, same old excitement for the day to come and go. And it’s not like you hate the holiday itself, you two just.. heavily dislike the immense bucketloads of PDA and office hookups that come along with it.

Not-so-gracefully flopping down onto your chairs, you practically shovel food down, gladly accepting the few rolls of gimbap Minho places onto your plate.

Customary sharing. You give him some of your food, he gives you some of his.

In those brief minutes of silence do you get the opportunity to fully comprehend your own thoughts, prior to Minho clearing his throat.

“Drinks at my place?”

Your grown loudly in agreement.

Minho : Okay, I’m leaving, follow me in thirty minutes

Glancing up, you watch your counterpart lift his brows your way and call out his departure, sifting through the doorway, cross body bag thumping against jeans.

Hyeongmi was downstairs, which, as awful as it sounded, was great not having to endure her nosiness.

This was how you stayed unbothered. He’d leave, and thirty minutes later you would too in order to (for now) avoid Mrs. Song (and Hyeongmi’s) pestering.

It couldn’t have taken the clock longer to reach 4:30PM. So by the time the beloved minute hand struck 4:29 you practically lurched from your seat, almost tasting sweet freedom before a face showed up right before you slipped through the exit.

Hyeongmi’s face.

What she’s talking about you can’t seem to understand, mind trained on escaping and escaping alone.

“C’mon now, you two are the only two in this building without a date. It’s been four years, Y/n! You need to let loose!” Hyeongmi emphasizes, dizzying your head the longer she shakes your shoulders.

“You do realize everyone has the hots for him but that he only hangs out with you, right? I’m telling you, it’s a sign—“

“Sorry Hyeongmi, I really have to go-“

Fastening your bag tigher across your body, you make a mad-dash as far away as possible, pretending to ignore the “use protection!” she shouted before the crisp evening breeze nipped your nose.

Use protection my butt, you grovel, ushering the scarf further above your chin as if to secure as much warmth possible.

She doesn’t know anything, not about how you took him under your wing as your apprentice the first year he joined, not about how much Minho loves cats, or how the keychain on that crossbody bag of his is a keychain you bought for him.

Simply placing it, she’s a person lead by the assumptions of others and adopting them as her own.

It irritates you.

Veering to your right, you thank his decision to house nearby, arriving at the foot of his porch after a mere ten-minute walk.

Delivering a few knocks on the townhome’s doorway, you note the paint chipping, colorful exterior worn from the sun’s rays.

Everything from the few cracks in the sidewalk to the relatively invisible stain of coffee on his doorknob lay memorized by frequency—his property second nature to you.

“Never have I hated being single this much,” You whine, slumping onto his couch after hurling your bag atop a hook in the foyer.

And despite the lack of response, you can tell Minho heard you. The faint, breathy chuckle enough evidence of his presence.

Perched on a chair he’d likely dragged from the kitchen, a feline companion occupies his lap, both comfortably relaxing on the patio, wine glass in hand.

Accordingly arranged on the countertop is another glass (you presume as yours), that you pour the vinegar-tinged substance into.

“I mean.” Slightly struggling to haul a neighboring chair to his side and simultaneously avoid splashing wine everywhere, you eventually find an equilibrium.

“It’s not like I asked to be single, I’m just too busy to consider a relationship, y’know?”

Minho absentmindedly hums, urging you to take a much-needed sip of the orchid-colored liquid.

Finally, you sigh out the last of your evening’s thoughts.

“..Hyeongmi caught me on the way out.”

Nor does this occasion need a reply either, the man’s suppressed giggle suitable enough.

“Mm.. I’ve got an idea.”

Carefully allowing the elongated glass to clink atop a translucent table, you cross and uncross your legs, welcoming the rustle of life around you into your eardrums, easing the cluttered space of your brain.

“Shoot.”

He clicks his tongue, gaze flitting to the emerging moon overhead.

“If we’re still single by twenty-five, we date each other.“

Making a surprised sound to yourself, you break into unadulterated laughter, about to call him hilarious before taking into account this is Minho you’re referring to, and the likelihood he’s joking on any matter is unlikely.

Sure it sounds cliché, but it’s Minho, why not?

…And perhaps that decision was made with a few glasses of wine in play.

“I’m in.” You grin, returning his outstretched hand by bumping your glasses before downing the remaining gulp, cheeks aglow, alcohol ridding your breath a distasteful stench.

Tipsy. Minho is charming normally, but especially when he’s tipsy.

He’s got this way of speaking that could get any unsuspecting girl reaching to unzip his pants in a second, sultry, half-lidded eyes drinking the person in front of him, talking like he has sugar lining his lips.

When Minho is tipsy, he’s tempting. You didn’t need four years to teach you that.

That, and the spare pajama set folded in his top drawer reserved solely for you on nights like this—too gone to go home.

Although, as you rise to your feet and head to the bathroom, pulling said silk pajama shirt over your head, Hyeongmi’s words reverberate again.

You do realize everyone has the hots for him but that he only hangs out with you, right?

Hm. Minho was always a recluse though. And with your history, obviously he’d have some liking for you.

It’s been four years, Y/n! You need to let loose!

Turning to stare at yourself in the mirror, you sulk, head hanging low.

What if you did something tonight? Something risky, something testing the limits this friendship borderlines. You’re both drunk, likely willing.

Then again, does Minho want this too? Did he ever intend to “let loose”?

Anxiety plagues you, hurriedly scurrying your pants over your legs and exiting to find Minho still seated in the same spot, appearing all the more tempting without having to do a thing.

You blame the alcohol.

Stamping forward as if you prepared a speech, you stop just behind his chair, mustering any ounce of liquid courage manageable.

“Minho.”

He grunts.

“You’re really pretty.”

Let loose. This is letting loose when it comes to Minho.

What, you thought you were gonna fuck? Yeah, that’s a funny one.

Winding himself around to see you, his lips wind into a sweet smile, urging you closer with a mere look before he reaches forward and taps your nose, dark eyes roaming your face.

“I’ve always thought you were pretty too.”

And perhaps, caught in a trance from his glittering stare, something did happen those four years you’ve been together after all.

You blame the alcohol.

The impulsive part about this “date at twenty-five” pact you had forgotten to consider was the fact both of you were twenty-four, meaning in less than a year whatever plan Lee Minho had stirred up after plenty glasses of wine would oil it’s gears into motion.

Thankfully Valentines comes and goes, and Summer creeps dangerously close, the longer hours of daylight and lingering sunshine enough to make every work-day feel extra laborious.

First day of summer, Minho texts you, asking if you want to join him on a walk.

Mind you, it’s 10AM in the morning, an hour you couldn’t fathom waking up at on the first day of summer.

You groan and flop back down, shutting off your phone and slamming the pillow over your head in a pitiful attempt at falling back asleep.

Only for your doorbell to ring twenty minutes later.

Over.

And over.

The urge to screech compels your barely-awake form, legs wobbling out of bed to feebly reach the doorway in a sleep-ridden haze.

Of course, lo and behold, Minho lies responsible, clad in running shoes, a pair of shorts, and a black nike zip-up.

He’s evidently pleased—whether from how disheveled you appear—or that he actually got you out of bed in the first place by the lingering smile tugging at his lips.

You hate to say it, but he’s annoyingly attractive, there’s no denying.

“Caught you at a bad time, hm?” He tips his head down to make eye-contact, peering through wild hair and lidded eyes at your half-alive self.

All you can manage out is a minuscule grunt, about to close the door before Minho jars his hand in, inviting himself inside much to your dismay.

Like instinct, he heads straight to your closet, surveying the chaos his insistent door-bell ringing caused before fetching a sweatshirt to pull over your head and a pair of socks from your drawer.

Though, as you wake up a tad bit more, you hurriedly keep him from putting your socks on for you as he bends down, shying away with an irritated whine.

“If this is what dating you is like I’m calling off the pact,” You mumble, stomping toward the door with Minho pushing you forwards without chance of escape.

He giggles, seeming to contain utmost glee witnessing your temper tantrum.

“Oh trust me sweetheart, the fun never ends.”

He’s hopeless too, apparently.

Lucky for you, your friend’s visits occurred sporadically, meaning the 10AM wake up calls weren’t a daily routine of headaches.

In contrast, summer passed by in a flash, and you were shoved head-first into a packed schedule for a second time as the autumn leaves shriveled into crisp browns and oranges.

Autumn was always welcomed. It meant the chilling cold was approaching, yes, but it also signified apple cider being added to the downstairs café menu and—on those especially chilly mornings—bundling your neck in the scarf Minho bought you last christmas.

As for him, he frequents pointed shoes and straight-legged pants, his fudge-colored hair perfectly complimented by pumpkin scented fragrances and dusky red backdrops.

Brisk mornings call for thinking. And as you walk, you come to the indefinite conclusion apple cider fits Minho. Sweet, but not saccharine. Warm to the touch, reminiscent with a charming aftertaste. A silhouette that comes and goes as it pleases, leaving soon enough for you to crave it back again.

Regarding summer, he was sort of like a beach day. A vacation in the midst of roaring deadlines, the comfortable lull of waves buzzing your mind into a hazy, salty escapade.

Although as December plucks each oak of its splendor, a call on Sunday morning truly marks the season of winter.

“..Y/n?” Minho murmurs, his voice groggy, hoarse. You make a sound of acknowledgment in response.

“I think I’m sick, can you drop off some meds at the door?”

Pressing your phone close to your ear, you debate on your desire to scold him, remind him each time he gets a winter cold he should dress warmer.

Of course, your lips stay shut (just like they always have for the past few years), and you reply with a “Be there soon, hang tight” before ending the call and gathering your belongings.

At the supermarket you check out seaweed soup, multivitamins, and allergy relief—things of which you hope will alleviate some of his symptoms.

Eternally grateful for the spare key you’d been given a while back, you enter the home, calling his name until an exasperated sign of life was heard (more like coughed) from the bedroom.

Inside lay Minho, a distressing array of tissues scattered in all directions, clustered beyond belief. His nose is soured pink from incessant stuffiness, lips cracked and dry. Dark circles sag beneath tired eyes, worn disposition evidence of his condition.

Quick on your feet, you scour the bathroom for a thermometer, the device’s loud beep signifying a blaring fever as you hover by his bedside.

Watching the bowl of instant soup spin aimless circles in the microwave, Minho’s call knocks you out of your daydream, worriedly padding to where he lays.

“Come here.”

You oblige, arriving to his right, about to ask the matter until his fingers link with your own, bringing the back of your hand to his jaw, resting there.

If you had been warm before, an entirely new definition to sweating has been reached at this point.

“You’re warm,” He whispers, rubbing his face against your hand like a needy cat wanting attention.

How unfair a human can be this round.

Practically bounding from the inside, you use the excuse of the microwave beeping to race off, hurriedly disappearing into the kitchen while remaining ignorant to the way Minho’s gaze follows you.

Returning with a soup platter meticulously carried between your tight grip, you sigh with relief upon sitting the steaming concoction down. Oh so slowly, a frown grows at your face upon noticing the expectant stare boring into your head.

“Yes?”

He juts out his bottom lip like a kicked puppy from your nonplussed tone, nudging the covers over himself till only those calculating eyes peek out.

“I’m not feeding you.”

Minho all but whimpers, and you suppress the urge to smother him with a pillow right then and there, hating how easily he sends goosebumps prickling the back of your neck, heat scalding your ears.

“No.”

“Y/n.”

You quite literally feel like the cruelest person in existence because why is he looking at you with that face, saying your name like that.

Grumbling beneath your breath, you begrudgingly collect a spoonful, bringing the utensil to his already pursed lips.

Spoonful by spoonful do you feed him as if he’s a dependent toddler, his satisfied hums earning a stern glare in return.

Only when he finishes eating do you get up, reprimanding him on taking his meds without much bite to your words.

“And don’t take too many of these, alright? If it gets really bad, call me again. Otherwise, try getting sleep.”

“Yes ma’am.”

And of course he has to be endearing.

Such a pain.

You’ll stop by tomorrow.

If Minho was the apple cider in autumn and beach days in the summer, he’s the prettiest of snowflakes in the midst of winter.

Memorable, fleeting. Melting in your touch.

The annual Christmas party the company hosts steadily approaches, your coworkers ringing your phone insistently with noticeable anticipation.

Though just like autumns chill, December soars past idly, reigning in a new year and a new digit added to twenty when asked your age.

Your winter premise only heightened the anxiety compiling in your gut, a feeling you hadn’t recognized until the following day—the first day back to work in January—dawned.

January 1st’s introduction means you’re both officially twenty-five, and you’re not sure if it’s the fact Minho hasn’t texted you yet or the valentines pact in itself setting you on edge.

What would it be like to date Minho? Would he kiss you, the same way male leads in K-dramas did? Hold you as you sleep, wish you goodbye with a kiss to your cheek?

The mere thought sends rivets of electricity blazing your fingertips, feeling like an utter fool for imagining such scenarios.

Now you’ve haunted yourself for worse, leaving only dread in tow.

Arriving at the office the first day back, you attempt at making yourself look as collected as possible, definitely not bothered.

Worse, the root of your troubles walks in unbothered as you’ve been trying to do for the past few hours, the room working in deplorable silence before a note wedges itself behind your keyboard, Minho slipping past in its wake.

It takes all your will-power to ignore the crumpled piece of paper as best as possible, your index itching to unravel whatever lay inside.

Noon is when you finally give in, lungs failing to produce air upon reading the contents, practically choking on nothing.

Come over to my place after work.

What is this, his way of declaring your pact officially in action? What if he calls it off, saying it was only a joke glasses of wine granted?

As Hyeongmi said before, everyone has the hots for him, so why don’t you? Why does the thought of him calling it off put you on edge?

Or maybe you do. Maybe you do have feelings for—

Woah. Stop there.

Luckily, your internal chess match went unnoticed, leaving only the buzzing of your ears and the ticking of the clock loud.

A certain fondness sat between either of you from the start, since becoming acquainted you’ve instantly clicked—sly remarks and playful teasing merely one more thing keeping you alive (minus coffee).

So when something crossing the border between friends and lovers arose, a sort of nervousness bubbled in your gut.

Minho was a shoulder to cry on for you, but was it like that?

You could rely and depend on each other whenever, but could those feelings ever turn into love?

Of course they could, and they likely would’ve if it weren’t for either of you being so work-oriented—making you even more worried.

Although, you can’t simply flee. You’re an adult.

..And Minho will find you in a heartbeat if you decide to run.

Never had you been hesitant to leave office until now, and trodding one foot in front of the other causes your legs to turn into jelly.

Minho probably isn’t this nervous. He’s probably in a great mood, treating the occasion like it’s just another casual day.

Never before was it difficult, whether difficult is referred to as placing a key in a doorway or walking inside, everything seems so.. eminent.

Like when you walk through this door, an entirely new side of Minho will show face. A romantic side of Minho.

Yet, there’s no rose petals lining the hallway, nor scented candles scattered here and there.

What is there to expect with dating in your twenties anyway?

Plus, Minho’s well, Minho. If he wanted to, he likely would’ve flat-out asked already.

Something you’re surprised about, however, is the triangular string decor swooping from the ceiling, the party hats by the sink, a single birthday candle placed in the center of a cupcake. Simple, perfect.

Although, the perfect factor came with the man responsible, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, bracing himself on the countertop with a particular glow in his irises—whether it be from the lit candle you aren’t sure—that sets your stomach into a garden of butterflies.

A surprise party. He threw you a surprise birthday party.

And it’s then as enter the kitchen, brain barely recognizing each advance forward, you realize it.

You really, really want to date him.

And you really, really don’t want to screw this up.

Staring at each other, you rise up on your toes to place a careful, feather-light peck on the smooth, flushed skin of his cheek.

Slowly, he turns his head, a conniving smirk revealing the outline of his teeth whilst investigating your breathlessness.

“Someone’s daring,” He mumured, cocking a brow amusedly.

You poke his side, groaning that he shouldn’t look too far into it before he nudges you, your frown returned with a subtle nod—directed at the forgotten cupcake.

“Well you already gave me a kiss, so wish for something else.”

“Choke,” You respond, but there’s still no bite to it. Some things never change.

Minho gently holds your hair back for you, allowing you to lean over and blow out the candle. No bite.

Your wish?

Let Minho and I go well. I like us.

Every bit of it was the truth.

Hopefully this wish of yours can come true.

Maybe.

Seated on the living room floor do you finally relax, your shoulders slumping down after hours of monstrous tension. Seems you’d forgotten he was your best friend before anything else.

“So.. how does this work?”

‘Work’ as in, the dating deadline’s here, what’s next?

He purses his lips—a habit of his—blinking rapidly.

“Like friends? Except we get the kissing and sex pass in between, right?”

You smack his shoulder. He smiles, childishly extending his pinky out to you.

Linking yours, you press the pad of your thumb against his. An unspoken gesture.

“Together?”

Through thick and thin. Your way, as it always was, always had been.

He has stars in his tawny-globes for eyes.

“Together.”

Minho’s hands are warm in the midst of frigid temperatures.

Spring isn’t too far off, but the bitter winds remain ceaseless and unrelenting, whipping your hair every which way, scattering a plethora of goosebumps along your skin.

Never had you held hands like this with someone before, nonetheless Minho, and yet, a connection lies inside the initial awkwardness. The silent assurance, whether it’s his thumb smoothing your palm or occasional squeezes, telling you he understands, that you’re not alone, or how he patiently waited by the door the entire time you were getting ready, claiming he didn’t want to dirty your place with his shoes.

It’s sort of revitalizing. Curious and inquisitive in his lingering touches, additional notes—reminders on your coffee cup, questions asking whether you want to stay over afterward, if he can give you a kiss on the cheek.

One in particular you recall:

I miss you. Scribbled in bleeding ink.

Your introduction as lovers had been a field day of trials and questions for the two of you, though when it came down to the public’s knowledge, you began debating on the “curiosity killed the cat” theory.

This morning, catching a glimpse of the company’s logo in the distance, you assign yourself as the cat. Too interested, now suffering the consequences.

Granted, you wouldn’t take back moving to relationship status, but it was a lot easier to brush off comments if you were Minho.

Hyeongmi being the main one responsible for said comments.

Morning passed by seamlessly, prioritizing work above all else, too busy typing away to for any interruptions.

..Until a midday conference.

Seated right next to each other, his fingers slowly thread with yours beneath the table, sending the man a perplexed (and slightly nervous) expression in response.

More so, the comforting casualness caused you to barely recognize Mrs. Song reaching below to fetch her fallen pen, a gasp of surprise stilling the conversation at her realization.

“Are you- Are you two holding—?”

Panicked, you smack his hand away, stomach plummeting.

Not expecting him to stubbornly grab your hand again, a miniature frown draws across his perfectly rose lips.

Pouting.

Lee Minho is pouting because you’re not letting him hold your hand.

Unbelievable.

If the situation could escalate further, the she-devil herself (Hyeongmi) throws her head down to spare a glimpse, allowing you to fully accept your demise. A demise that, one way or another, needed to happen.

This was simply an early death.

“You’re kidding! No way you guys are a thing?” The eccentric girl mouths the last words, eyebrows drawn to her hairline.

And just like that, your relationship with Minho ventured out of your pocket and into a brand new wilderness.

“So…what’s it like living everybody’s dream?”

Headed to the bathroom, Hyeongmi stops you, leaned over the mirror, carefully inspecting her plum-colored lipstick.

“What?” You pique, confusedly glancing between her and the empty stall you’re trying to nonchalantly slip into.

“I mean, the entire company’s talking about it. Tell me, are you guys actually official? Or is this all just for the attention? No offense, but-“

“I...”

Want to punch you in the face.

You keep it to yourself.

“I’m gonna go.”

Synonymously, both your bladder and your appetite completely disappeared.

Although, she doesn’t leave you alone.

You’re frantically searching for excuse after excuse, speed-walking and taking the stairs any chance available.

Unfortunately for you, she’s everywhere. At some point you’re certain a tracking device is hidden somewhere on your clothes.

Almost there. From silently pleading help with your eyes to legitimately hiding in your workplace, today couldn’t have been more of a joke.

Or so you thought.

“Y/n?”

“Yes, Hyeongmi?”

“With Minho,” She nervously fiddles with her earrings. “You don’t have to tell me but.. how’s the bedroom?”

Apparently, it can go lower.

Before you can respond to her shamelessness, a grip fastens on your shoulders, cologne distinct enough you can tell exactly who it is.

Your beach day.

“Hyeongmi, you do realize that’s rude, yeah? Let’s not cross boundaries we shouldn’t cross, got it?”

All the while Minho smiles, this cloying, “I dare you” sort of attitude no one can argue with.

Averting her attention, she speedily raises up, humorlessly laughing off the tension while excusing herself from the room.

“You okay?” He whispers, breath ghosting over the shell of your ear, pressing a chaste kiss there.

Yeah, there’s no getting used to this.

“Yep,” You say, though there isn’t much sincerity it.

He knows.

“Wait for me here, let’s walk home together.”

Ah. You want to kiss him.

“Minho.”

He turns on his heel.

Kiss me.

You’re holding his collar now, the option on the tip of your tongue, his lips a hairbreadth from yours.

Close, closer.

No. Not yet.

Either way, what do you know about kissing? What if you screw up?

Not yet.

“..Okay.”

Your gaze flits down to his lips if only for a second. A small, cheeky grin adorning his face as he follows your movements.

It’s hard to focus when he leaves, because all you can think about is the possibilities. What if you had kissed him? Would he have kissed you back?

By the way looked at you, the logical response would be: yes. Most people don’t stare at someone like that without the intent to kiss them, right?

Though somehow, you can’t help but feel unprepared, a complete novice in this battlefield of love.

Where Minho took you afterward was a mystery, merely happy to be away from the confines of your desk—letting his eager hand guide you wherever he pleased.

Shielded beneath the shade of two trees, your destination, Yeouido Park, is a spectacle during the transition period of winter to spring. You’d oftentimes spend hours here, basking in the relief a break grants. A spectacle where you two first truly met.

“Alright, be honest with me.”

He spins you around till you’re face to face, carefully analyzing your facial expression.

“Are you really okay? After Hyeongmi said that, I couldn’t stop thinking..”

Oh. That careful crease in his eyebrows, sympathetic.

He’s breaking your heart.

You realize now why everyone falls in love with him.

“Of me?”

The words come out involuntarily, a step forward in the newness, paving light through the darkened abyss.

“Yeah..” He says, a little winded while doing so.

Minho cares, he always had, yet, it’s your first time hearing it aloud.

“Y/n.”

Blinking yourself back into reality, your face grows warm, not intending to deliberately space out right in front of him.

He leans forward, causing you to shrink back into your skin as a kiss is planted right atop your nose, the man wearing a satisfied grin.

“Hey- You can’t- It’s not Valentines yet—“

“And why would I wait until Valentine’s day?”

Another deeper red burns your cheeks, and you scorn the way he gets under your skin—a way that makes every insult dissolve like powder on your tongue.

He notices, but decides not to prod further, lightly bumping your hip with his own as a signal to follow.

“Tomorrow is the day, y’know,” You mumble, kicking rocks with the tip of your shoe.

“Are we gonna turn into those couples?” He asks, pretentiously puckering his lips, eyes squinted shut.

You burst out laughing.

“I would break up with you first, sorry Minho.” Said puckered lips transform into a playful scowl.

“What? No treat for valentines?”

Blinking babydoll eyes up at you, you wrinkle your nose, coming to recognize what “treat” he was implying.

Earlier you would’ve kissed instantly, but an inkling of stubbornness kept you from giving into him this time.

Sneaking behind you, he ducks down, voice low enough for only your ears to hear.

“Didn’t seem you were too against it earlier.”

And with that, he races off, entirely too happy with himself and not likely to live down your reaction. Because you can’t disagree.

Since when were Lee Minho’s lips so kissable?

Knock.

Your attention strays from the mirror at the sound, wondering if it was simply a figment of your imagination only for the sound to ensue.

Knock. Knock.

Who would be at your door at this hour in the middle of the week?

There’s a name on your tongue, but you don’t contemplate any longer, tiptoeing to the doorway to peer through the peephole.

And the sight before you makes every ounce of suspicion worthwhile.

Minho, holding a bouquet of roses and things unknown behind his back, is reciting.

He’s staring at his shoes, bouncing back and forth on his heels nervously.

Lee Minho is nervous.

Wanting just to stand there and watch him rehearse, you finally give in after a third knock scares you out of your wits—hesitantly opening the door and trying to placate the most surprised expression possible.

His eyes round as saucers, you literally watch the gears in his head turn in real time, extending the flowers out to you.

“Happy valentines. These are uh, for you.”

And his ears are red.

You’re going to implode from how cute this is.

Attempting to stave down the alarming amount of happiness you’re experiencing, you hold the flowers in one hand, awaiting whatever lie behind his back.

Although, as the outline of a box of chocolates appears, so does… a shampoo bottle.

What.

Bathing in a long silence, you can’t help but wonder you’re genuinely hallucinating. Glancing from his face to the literal shampoo in hand, he mirrors you, confused for a reason you’re trying to figure out as well.

“Is that… a shampoo bottle?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you were running low the last time I came here.”

…

You’ve never received a valentine before, but this automatically took the cake.

Is it possible to fall in love after you’re given a shampoo bottle as a gift on valentines? Apparently so.

Nonetheless, work flashed past, barely able to register a thing between the many congratulations you received and the absence of Hyeongmi (assumed to be due to the brown-haired charmer beside you).

For now, you savor the freedom of the day, finally able to escape the pains of before and wallow in a new kind of excitement. Love.

Love delivered by Minho himself in the form of mini scraps he’s folded into hearts, slipping heart after heart onto your desk at any opportunity to the point you bump his leg beneath the table in warning.

He cheekily smirks in return, stupidly innocent face scheming with malice.

He’s getting an absolute kick out of this, and you hate to admit you enjoy it just as much.

As usual, you wait behind for him to catch up on your daily commute home—an activity you did long before any romantic feelings became involved.

That’s it. Minho’s pinpoint of romance.

Shampoo bottle, walks home, extra coffee, notes.

Minho doesn’t openly express his love, not unless he feels either adventurous or obligated. Instead, he studies. Your habits, the things you enjoy, your actions, preferences. That particular coffee order you liked, how you had ran out of shampoo.

Oh how you love him.

Though, rounding the sidewalk to your place, Minho grabs ahold of your wrist. In response, as soon as you turn your head, you’re mere centimeters from his face, simply standing there, proximity willing either of you not to move.

Initial words dying out, he slightly edges to the side, cocked in a way that has your mind racing.

Nose, cheek, but never lips.

No.

Your hands act before any other part of you, blocking his lips from yours.

“We-“

The look he’s giving you, shock.

You feel a hundred degrees hotter.

“We need to go inside,” You excuse yourself fast, the man tailing behind, grip still loosely attached to your wrist.

Quickly shutting the door behind you, it’s an immediate embarrassment flooding your frame that allows you to speak, words bursting outward in an uncontrollable cacophony.

“Minho I’m so sorry I have no idea what I was doing, I shouldn’t have done that, it was a stupid idea. I didn’t mean to offend you or anything-“

“Hey, slow down. I’m not going anywhere.”

His tone serves as the much needed breeze fanning your face, cooling you down enough to articulate sentences properly.

“I’m sorry, we’ve just never kissed on the lips and I feel like I’m gonna be horrible and kill the mood. This is stupid, I know, just.. bear with me please?”

His eyebrows furrow, forming together the equation piece by piece.

“You’ve.. You’ve never had your first kis—?”

You hush him furiously, slumping onto the couch dejectedly.

Yet, Minho doesn’t laugh nor pick fun regardless of how hilariously idiotic the occasion is. He’s quiet, concerned almost.

You add that to your long list of things you love about him.

Inhaling gradually, your focus flits to the window, collecting yourself, easing the frantic rush-hour traffic rampaging in your skull.

If you were one of those paper hearts he made, he’s pulling apart each careful fold in this very moment. Unraveling the layers till your bare self is exposed in all its anxiousness.

“I hate it. It feels like a part of that teenage youth everyone talks about is something I’ll never get to experience. I was too busy caring about school, and now I feel like I’ve missed out.”

Soaking in a quietness, you jump when he places a hand over yours, softly tracing the skin of your knuckles, glossy as he watches, carving each perfect aspect of you into memory.

“Well you may not be seventeen, but you’re never too old to learn to kiss.”

One hand cupping your jaw to garner your attention, you’re met with a glass-like visage.

Gentle.

“And I can teach you how.”

It’s always been business, you’ve always been business. Which is why, now confronting what feels to be the highest peak in your love life, you’re left a completely blank canvas. No rules, no instructions.

It’s terrifying.

“Min- Minho, I really haven’t done this before.”

You hastily pique, scooting backward in the cushions.

Curse the shakiness of your voice.

“If you don’t want to do this, tell me. We won’t.”

You quickly shake your head.

No, you want this, you’ve wanted this too badly to back out now.

“Then let’s take it slow, okay?”

It’s horrifically awkward at first, a tiny peck, then a bit longer till your arms creep over his shoulders, his fingers once holding your jaw steady now resting on your neck.

Best word to describe it? Messy.

“Breathe through your nose.”

“Minho— I’m suffocating here—“

You sputter back, quite literally heaving for breath.

Yes, it was otherworldly kissing him, and he was an insanely good kisser, but did this really require your lungs to practically burst?

“Are you teaching me how to give a blowjob or kiss?”

His smile transforms mischievously, a sneering laugh slipping past. You already know he’ll make a sly comment.

Minho winks. “We’ll get to that later.”

“I lost my urge to date you. Bye.”

“Noooo Y/n~” He whines profusely, warm hold on your waist beckoning another kiss filled with hushed giggles and incessant jeers from either party—ensuing a halfway unbuttoned shirt and quite possibly the most greedy ten minutes known to man.

Out of breath, he pulls back from your stomach, the ticklish feather-light kisses planted there earning a stifled giggle from you while he blinks upward, seeming to be focused on something.

“Minho?” You question, ignorant to how unbelievably obsessed with you he is, more than ever in this moment.

From your damp, sweaty skin to the few hairs stuck to your forehead. Your swollen lips, the way you laugh, your stomach dipping with the action. He doubts he’ll ever get tired of this.

Reaching forward as if caught in a trance, he tenderly tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, voice barely audible upon pressing his forehead against yours.

And in the seclusion of your living room, tangled up together on the sofa, it’s just the two of you existing in this world.

“I hope you know I really meant it when I said I thought you were pretty too.”

Ah. He remembers. All that time ago.

Of course he does.

Kissing you for a time you can’t remember, you begin to wonder if that birthday wish of yours had came true after all.

Your feelings for Minho had always existed somewhere inside of you. Your head, your heart. A tiny inkling into something more, a could be. Two individuals wishing, waiting to make a move.

It seems the Valentines Pact sealed the deal.

sunboki, may 2022 ©

FIC TAGLIST. @gimmeurtmi @jisuperboard @porang-poranglinos @palindrome969 @stayceebs97 @inniescandy-01 @idklin0

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friendly-neighborhood-furry · 3 months

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sometimes the state of the world makes me want to go outside and scream as loud as i can for help. sometimes it makes me want to crawl deep into a hole and never come back out again. sometimes it makes me want to fall to my knees and sob uncontrollably. sometimes it seems so hopeless that i cant see any better alternative other than just disappearing.

so much evil and destruction and suffering-- and for what?

what is it all for?

for the latest popular billionare to take a 13 minute flight? for the newest remake of a movie that changed my life to get turned into mindless sludge? for a never-before-seen species of animal to be discovered, then pronounced extinct the very next week? for millions of people to go broke for having cancer?

i tell my mother that i wont be able to afford a house. she says "no, you will." i tell my counselor that my government wants to kill me. she says "that's not true." i tell my teachers i don't see a point in doing well in school because i wont be able to get a job anyway, even if i have a college degree. they tell me "no, you'll get a job. school is still important." i email my senators begging them to stop funding the genocide in Palestine. i get a copy-pasted email back with a history lesson about why that wont happen. one million people died from COVID last Christmas and i'm the only one at my school still wearing a mask. my future as an artist was ripped from my hands in less than two years and pretty soon i wont be able to share anything about my art at all. i'm half mexican, but everybody says i'm "too white" to be a "real mexican". its been four years and i'm nowhere closer to understanding my gender identity than i was at the start. tumblr has been my only safe space for three years and now that KOSA might pass this week, where will i go?

and all the while, through all of this conflict-- people are still falling in love for the first time and rescuing kittens off the street and watching their children take their first steps and getting married and making fun little indie games and building elaborate cosplays of their favorite character and making the most heart-touchingly beautiful pieces of art you've ever seen and meeting lifelong friends and cooking amazingly delicious food and playing children's games and weaving baskets from pine needles and taking care of livestock and collecting little knick-knacks and having the best day of their lives and writing their first line of code and learning to play instruments and hatching baby birds and posting a 100K word thesis about a show they really like and uploading song covers for 19 people on Youtube to listen to and pushing the boundaries of what science can accomplish and discussing moral philosophies in the comment section of a Reddit post and feeling truly seen in the eyes of another human being for the first time in their lives and growing old surrounded by the people they love.

the future is uncertain, but the world will go on. the winds will still blow and the tides will still flow. people will continue to find joy in this hell and fight for it with everything they have.

so don't give up.

"don't give up," i tell myself.

"don't give up," i tell you.

"don't give up," i scream into the sky.

there is always something to keep going for. if you cannot find it in yourself, find it in others. find it in the people in your life and the people you see online. find it in the good of humanity you know to exist.

find it. keep fighting. don't give up.

#at the end of it all i do consider myself a poet #if this reaches even one person #and gives them the strength to keep going #i would consider it a success #tomothy rambles #serious post #gen z #capitalism #climate change #palestine #free palestine #lgbtqia+#queer #trans #vent #mental health #anxiety #depression

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everythingharrypotterblog · 11 months

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charmed [14]: 'the little moments' (remus lupin x reader)

a/n: GUYSS i feel like it's been FOREVER. thank you so much for your recommendations, i slipped quite a few into this part ;) i'm starting on the next part as soon as this one goes up. welcome, or welcome back to charmed<3 i never want this story to end but i see it coming.... for now, let us enjoy this newest chapter. as always im waiting for ur feedback x

series summary: set in the prisoner of azkaban, including its major plot points. remus and y/n get hired by dumbledore last minute to teach at hogwarts, defense against the dark arts and charms respectively. not wanting the students to know they are married, they navigate the challenging year through hidden glances, hand holds underneath the table and loving moments in their offices. even with all their efforts to conceal their relationship, their chemistry does not go unnoticed by the student population of hogwarts, who grow fond of the pair as they offer them some of the best classes they’ve had in a while. their relationship as newlyweds is strengthened as teaching the next generation of wizards unlocks a sea of memories of their love story. for the second time in his life, remus holds hogwarts responsible for some of his happiest memories. he’s given the chance to create them with the love of his life, y/n, who has taught and continues to teach him that every part of him is lovable, remaining forever under her charm.

series masterlist here

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14.

Knock, knock, knock.

“C’min!” Hagrid’s gruff voice boomed from inside his hut. Y/N opened the door, and stepped inside.

“Hey,” Y/N said, taking her gloves off. “Oh, hi Hermione!”

Hermione was sat beside Hagrid, the two looking over books that were sprawled across his table, with two mugs of tea squished in between them.

“Hi, Professor Y/L/N!” Hermione smiled politely.

“Hermione’s just here helping me with Beaky’s case, found me all these dates and all in these books.”

“Wow, that’s wonderful.” Y/N beamed. “How are you guys doing?”

Hagrid let out a sigh, shrugging. Hermione did the same.

Y/N pursed her lip. “Tough time right now, I get it. Well, I don’t wanna disturb you, Hagrid, you have anything I can help you with today?”

Y/N was somewhat of an animal lover. Or, creature lover, to put it in correct terms. Ever since the winter, she’d go down to Hagrid’s once a week and ask him if she could help out with any creature tending he had to do. It cheered her up.

“Matter o’ fact, I do!” Hagrid sat up, turning around and going to get something from his fridge. “It’s time for the Hippogriffs to eat,” he said, dumping heaps of raw meat into a bucket.

“Wonderful.” Y/N said, walking over to Hermione to read over her shoulder. She placed her hand on her shoulder, “wanna come with?”

“Oh, no thanks Professor. Maybe I’ll join you after when I’m done showing Hagrid all this.”

“Sure.” Y/N smiled. “Ah,” she looked up once she heard the clunk of Hagrid’s bucket.

“Here, take Fang out with you. He’s driving us nuts.” Hagrid added, throwing in Fang’s treat bag in the bucket.

Y/N laughed. “Alright then, I’ll see you soon. Fang! Come on!”

She pulled her gloves back on and grabbed the bucket, holding the door open for Fang to run out beside her. They walked to the Hippogriff enclosure, occasionally pausing so that Fang can go to the bathroom.

“Hi guys,” Y/N called out as she neared the Hippogriff herd. They turned to her.

She bowed down to them one by one, waiting for their look of “ok” before handing them their food. Last, was Buckbeak.

She sat on a rock, watching them tear apart and munch on the pieces of meat with their impressive beaks.

“Oh, yes you get one too, I know you’re jealous that they get to eat,” Y/N said to Fang, who was whining and drooling next to her. She threw him a treat.

Buckbeak finished his meal, and slowly made his way to Y/N.

“Hi, buddy.” Y/N smiled. She watched him lie down next to her and stretch his long neck outward. He nudged the top of his head against her thigh. “You’re cuddly today.” She graciously lent her hand out and ran her fingers through his feathers.

She sat there for a moment, petting Buckbeak and keeping an eye on Fang who was running around the enclosure. Birds chirped and it was music to her ears. Winters were always so hard for her, and with April looming closer, she began to feel relief.

“Might have a baby soon, you know.” She said to Buckbeak, smiling cheekily. Buckbeak made a sound and beckoned her to keep petting him. “That’s all. Nothing else has changed. I heard you’re going to London soon. I hope it’ll be a nice trip..”

Eventually, she got up, bid the Hippogriffs goodbye, and made her way back to Hagrid’s with Fang.

“Hagrid,” she knocked, entering. “Here ya go.” She handed him the empty bucket, as well as Fang’s treats.

“Everythin’ alrigh’?”

“Everybody’s super, happy and fed.”

“Thanks a lot, eh Y/N. Hermione’s about to go too, yeh mind walking her up to the Castle?”

“Course not.” Y/N said, patting him on the arm. “You need me to hold something, Hermione?”

“No, thank you Professor, I’m leaving most of the books here.”

The two walked in silence up the hill that separated the Castle and the grounds.

Y/N glanced at Hermione. “You doing alright, Hermione?”

She nodded automatically, refusing to meet her professor’s eyes.

“I guess I’m a bit tired.” She said, finally.

Y/N nodded reassuringly. “You’re doing a lot.”

“I just…” Hermione started. “There’s so much I want to do. You know? I don’t know how to explain it. I feel like I can do so much.”

Y/N nodded once again. “You have the best kind of drive a young person can have, Hermione.”

They walked a little more.

“It’s my favourite part, working with people your age. A lot of you feel compelled to do something big, to save a lot of people. It’s really good, it’s a good thing. A necessary thing for the world to advance too.”

Y/N paused before continuing.

“But in the end, it’s okay if you only save one person. And it’s even more okay if that one person just turns out to be you.”

Y/N let Hermione think as they climbed up the few stairs to the castle entrance. To her surprise, Hermione wrapped her arms around her in a hug. Y/N rubbed her arm encouragingly before they broke apart.

“Thank you, Professor.”

Y/N watched her set off for the Gryffindor common room. Maybe what she said didn’t even register with Hermione. Or maybe it did. Maybe it just did.

Remus was in his office, dozing off slightly when his fireplace lit up and a familiar snarling voice called out: “Lupin! I want a word!”

He recognized it to be Snape’s. Thinking it was just something about the Polyjuice Potion, he absent-mindedly clambered into the ashes. Spinning out of his office and into a new location, he was taken aback by Harry Potter standing beside Snape, face adorned with a look of pure terror it seemed.

"You called, Severus?" said Lupin mildly.

"I certainly did," said Snape, his face contorted with fury as he strode back to his desk. "I have just asked Potter to empty his pockets. He was carrying this.”

Snape pointed at the parchment, on which the words of Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs were still shining.

Upon glancing at it, Remus felt his throat close up. He cleared it, attempting to play it off casually while he felt his entire chest seize up. It can’t be…

"Well?" said Snape.

Lupin continued to stare at the map. Harry had the impression that Lupin was doing some very quick thinking.

"Well?" said Snape again. "This parchment is plainly full of Dark Magic. This is supposed to be your area of expertise, Lupin. Where do you imagine Potter got such a thing?”

Lupin looked up and, by the merest half-glance in Harry's direction, warned him not to interrupt.

He racked his brains for a thing to say. Something plausible. How was he even going to get a single sentence out when about a million thoughts and emotions were rushing past his mind?

"Full of Dark Magic?" he repeated mildly. "Do you really think so, Severus? It looks to me as though it is merely a piece of parchment that insults anybody who reads it. Childish, but surely not dangerous? I imagine Harry got it from a joke shop —"

"Indeed?" said Snape. His jaw had gone rigid with anger. "You think a joke shop could supply him with such a thing? You don't think it more likely that he got it directly from the manufacturers?”

Manufacturers? Remus fought to keep a straight face.

"You mean, by Mr. Wormtail or one of these people?" he said. "Harry, do you know any of these men?”

"No," said Harry quickly.

"You see, Severus?" said Lupin, turning back to Snape. "It looks like a Zonko product to me —"

Right on cue, Ron came bursting into the office. He was completely out of breath, and stopped just short of Snape's desk, clutching the stitch

in his chest and trying to speak.

"I -- gave -- Harry -- that -- stuff," he choked. "Bought -- it... in Zonko's... ages -- ago…"

"Well!" said Lupin, clapping his hands together and looking around cheerfully. "That seems to clear that up! Severus, I'll take this back,

shall I?" He folded the map and tucked it inside his robes. "Harry, Ron, come with me, I need a word about my vampire essay -- excuse us, Severus —"

Harry didn't dare look at Snape as they left his office. He. Ron, and Lupin walked all the way back into the entrance hall before speaking. Then Harry turned to Lupin.

"Professor, I —“

"I don't want to hear explanations," said Lupin shortly. He glanced around the empty entrance hall and lowered his voice. "I happen to know that this map was confiscated by Mr. Filch many years ago. Yes, I know it' s a map," he said as Harry and Ron looked amazed. "I don't want to know how it fell into your possession. I am, however, astounded that you didn't hand it in. Particularly after what happened the last time a

student left information about the castle lying around. And I can't let

you have it back, Harry.”

Harry had expected that, and was too keen for explanations to protest.

"Why did Snape think I'd got it from the manufacturers?"

"Because...," Lupin hesitated, "because these mapmakers would have wanted to lure you out of school. They'd think it extremely entertaining.”

"Do you know them?" said Harry, impressed.

"We've met," he said shortly. He was looking at Harry more seriously than ever before.

"Don't expect me to cover up for you again, Harry. I cannot make you

take Sirius Black seriously. But I would have thought that what you have heard when the dementors draw near you would have had more of an effect on you. Your parents gave their lives to keep you alive, Harry. A poor

way to repay them — gambling their sacrifice for a bag of magic

tricks."

Mind racing, he rushed back into his office, leaving Harry and Ron in the hallway, the map in between his quivering hands.

He fell into the nearest chair he could find once back in his quarters and tapped the map, muttering an all too familiar phrase.

Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present

THE MARAUDER'S MAP

Remus traced the ink that appeared with a finger, then opened it and watched as every detail of the Hogwarts Castle and grounds appeared on the pages. He found the small dot in his office labeled ‘Remus Lupin’.

He burst into tears.

SMACK!

“Hermione!”

Don't you dare call Hagrid pathetic, you foul -- you evil —"

"Hermione!" said Ron weakly, and he tried to grab her hand as she swung

it back.

"Get off, Ron!”

Malfoy grunted to Crabbe and Goyle, and the three rushed into the castle, the former clutching the side of his face that Hermione had just smacked.

"Harry, you'd better beat him in the Quidditch final!" Hermione said shrilly. "You just better had, because I can't stand it if Slytherin wins!”

"We're due in Charms," said Ron, still goggling at Hermione. "We'd better go.”

They hurried up the marble staircase toward Professor Y/L/N’s classroom.

Y/N glanced over at them as they opened the classroom door, and gave them a quick nod before continuing her lesson.

“Cheering Charms today, pair up!”

Harry and Ron hurried to a desk at the back and opened their bags. Ron looked behind him.

"Where's Hermione gone?”

Harry looked around too. Hermione hadn't entered the classroom, yet Harry knew she had been right next to him when he had opened the door.

"That's weird.”

The lesson ended, and the students filed out of class all grinning ear to ear, the Charms had yet to wear off.

“Is Hermione okay?” Y/N asked Harry and Ron on their way out.

They shrugged, telling her they didn’t know where she went and then thanked her and bid her good day.

Y/N was magically wiping the chalkboards clean when she heard two pairs of loud, heavy footsteps running down the hall and into the classroom.

“I could hear you coming from a mile away, guys.” Y/N chuckled at Fred and George Weasley.

“Good afternoon, Professor Y/L/N!”

“Finished your class, Professor Y/L/N?”

They said in unison.

“Yes, come on in. What can I do for you two today?” Y/N said as she took a seat behind her desk.

The twins shared a look with each other.

“What….—” Y/N said suspiciously.

The twins broke out into identical grins.

“— did you guys do…”

“Nothing! We were just wondering—“ Fred said.

“if you—“ George continued.

“our favourite teacher, by the way—“ Fred intercepted.

Y/N rolled her eyes, urging them to continue.

“would take a look at something we’re working on?”

Y/N looked at them. “I’m guessing this thing you’re working on is not the latest essay I assigned eh?”

The twins chuckled. “Oh, that’s already finished!”

“Way ahead of you!”

“Will be on your desk before tomorrow’s class!”

Y/N smiled. They amused her so.

“Alright, what is it that you want to show me?”

“Okay. It’s a very early prototype.” Fred said, clapping his hands together. “George, the honours?”

“Very well, Fred.” George pulled out a small candy from his pocket. He took his time to unwrap it dramatically, then slowly put it in his mouth. And chewed.

Y/N looked at him quizzically before yelling out as soon as George seemingly gagged something up. The ‘something’ revealed itself to be his own tongue, which was swelling and coming out of his mouth doubling in size.

“FRED? What is this?!” Y/N gasped, jumping up to George’s side.

“No worries, Professor, this is what’s supposed to happen!” Fred cried out, pulling out his wand and muttering the counter-spell.

George’s tongue went back to normal. “Tada,” he said, taking a bow.

Y/N sat back down, looking flabbergasted, then burst out laughing. The twins beamed.

“You guys made that candy yourself?”

The twins nodded.

Y/N shook her head in disbelief. “How long did it take you to figure out how to trap the spell inside the piece of toffee?”

“Since you first taught it to us in December, Professor.”

“Hmm.” Y/N was visibly impressed. “So I teach you guys the Growth Charm, and you guys decide to put it in a candy to make people’s tongue grow thrice its size… This is high-level charmwork, gentlemen. And very creative.”

The twins beamed. “We want to make a business out of it, Professor.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows.

“We’ve got a bunch of other ideas too, like a Skiving Snackboxes line- candy that makes you sick so you can get out of class!”

Y/N nodded.

“You think it’s a bad idea, Professor?” George asked.

Y/N shook her head. “Hold onto the idea. I think you guys have got some real talent.”

The twins whooped and high-fived each other. “We’re set for life, Freddie!”

“Hey, hey, hey— that doesn’t mean you don’t need to put in the work, eh! All brilliant entrepreneurs still need a basic education as a foundation.”

The twins nodded.

“I don’t want you guys to be distracted and flunk your O.W.L.’s this year.” Y/N said. “ESPECIALLY your Charms one.” She winked and the twins nodded, chuckling.

“Yes, Professor.”

Another pair of loud, running footsteps echoed through the hallway and this time, in burst Hermione.

“Hermione!” Y/N exclaimed.

“Professor Y/L/N, I’m so sorry, I missed class, I—“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, come, sit down. Breathe.”

Hermione sat down and relaxed. Y/N reassured her that it was okay, that she wasn’t upset and that she’d catch up on Cheering Charms the next time.

“No need to freak out, I mean, look at how many times these two have skipped my class.” Y/N said, jerking her head to Fred and George.

“Professor!” The twins retaliated, turning red like their hair. “We have been ill…”

“Hmm hmm, sure.” Y/N chuckled.

Just then, Remus passed by her classroom, poking his head in.

“Remus!” Y/N called out happily, beckoning him to join.

“Hello Professor Y/L/N, hello.” He smiled at her, then to Hermione and the twins.

“We were just eating some candy.” Y/N said lightly. “Care for a toffee?” She said, eyeing the twins.

Fred and George’s eyes grew round as they understood what she meant.

“Um, here you go Professor.” Fred said, handing Remus a candy.

He put it in his mouth, then became aware that he was being stared at.

“Wha-?” He croaked before choking, his tongue starting to swell.

Y/N burst out laughing, running out of her chair to come to his aid. “I’m s-sorry, I’m so sorry—“ she gasped, pulling her wand out and quickly reversing it.

The three students concealed their laughter as they did not know if they should be allowed to laugh at the fact that they pranked a teacher.

Remus coughed and choked as his tongue went back to normal, Y/N still laughing and clutching onto his chest.

“What was that?” Remus gasped.

“I’m so sorry, it’s this prank thing the twins came up with.” Y/N said, still doubled over in laughter, clutching onto the lapel of his robes.

“Oh my god,” Remus chuckled, closing his eyes. “I should’ve known not to trust you.”

The two laughed, clutching at each other’s arms and hands. Hermione, Fred and George stood there, side-eyeing each other as they watched their two Professors struggle to get it together and keep their hands off each other.

"Gryffindor in possession, no, Slytherin in possession -- no!

Gryffindor back in possession and it's Katie Bell, Katie Bell for Gryffindor with the Quaffle, she's streaking up the field -- THAT WAS DELIBERATE!”

It was the Quidditch Cup Final, Gryffindor versus Slytherin, and the tension and adrenaline spread across the pitch was enough to send everyone flying.

"Ha haaa!" yelled Lee Jordan as the Slytherin Beaters lurched away from each other, clutching their heads. "Too bad, boys! You'll need to get up earlier than that to beat a Firebold And it's Gryffindor in possession again, as Johnson takes the Quaffle -- Flint alongside her -- poke him

in the eye, Angelina! -- it was a joke, Professor, it was a joke -- oh no -- Flint in possession, Flint flying toward the Gryffindor goal posts, come on now, Wood, save —!"

“Oh God, I can’t fucking watch this-“ Y/N screamed, clutching onto Remus’ arm.

The students standing across the teacher’s box were following the players but some did a double take as their eyes glossed over Remus and Y/N.

“Look— look, look at fucking Professor Y/L/N and Lupin—“ a student nudged her friend.

Her friend took her eyes off the game and giggled. “Do those Weasley twins still have that bet going on cause I’m definitely gonna put some money in now.”

“— AND POTTER CATCHES THE SNITCH, GRYFFINDOR WINS! GRYFFINDOR HAS WON THE QUIDDITCH CUP!”

The stadium burst into a thundering cheer as waves of crimson-clad students jumped up and down, shaking the seats and ground under them.

The teachers were equally going crazy, McGonagall’s bun had even undone itself from the amount of shaking her arms were doing. Y/N and Remus were yelling into each other’s faces, jumping up and down hugging each other.

A group of students that were jumping up and down, flailing their arms, pointed at Y/N and Remus, and began screaming and jumping even harder.

“Okay…! Okay Minerva, I see you today!” Y/N exclaimed as she walked in the teacher’s lounge one afternoon, carrying a mug of tea and wrapped in a blanket scarf.

“Thank you, thank you.” McGonagall smiled shyly, showing off her newly done nails to Professor Sprout who was sitting across the room.

Pomona hummed in appreciation. “Cold, Y/N?”

“Freezing. The Castle’s always freezing.”

“You’d think Dumbledore can up the fires a few degrees.” Pomona shook her head.

“You know women’s body temperatures are naturally lower than men’s?” Minerva huffed.

The two other women hummed in surprise.

“So, did you do these yourself?” Y/N gestured to Minerva’s nails as she took a seat.

“No, there’s a new salon in Hogsmeade village. She is quite good.”

“Oh! Did you get her card?”

“I believe so!” She bent down to rummage through her neatly organized bag. “Pomona?” She said, as she offered both of them one.

“Oh no, unfortunately I can never have my nails done! The only downside to Herbology I suppose.”

“Right… what if you wore gloves?” Y/N said.

Pomona shook her head. “It would still chip away, by rubbing against the fabric.”

“Right, right.”

“Guess what I overheard today in my 7th-years—“ Y/N said, bringing her mug of tea to her lips.

“Oh heavens, not some more relationship drama I suppose?” McGonagall said, sifting through the pack of essays she had been working on.

Y/N raised her eyebrows in response, taking another gulp of tea. “Oh yeah. Simon and Ashley.”

“Ravenclaw and Gryffindor?” Pomona asked.

“Yup.” Y/N nodded. “They were arguing in the middle of my class about skirts. He was saying how he didn’t want her to be wearing her skirt outside class time.”

“Oh my God.” Pomona rolled her eyes.

“Something about how he doesn’t like that she’ll be seen in it by the other boys.”

Minerva tutted, shaking her head ‘no’.

“And get this— he was arguing how it’s a “BOUNDARY’ for him.”

“Oh no!” Pomona exclaimed.

“It’s not a boundary if it’s just a stupid — pardon me — rule that he’s imposing on her—“

“That’s what I thought!”

“I know it’s wrong to say this about our students, but I sure hope they break up…”

Everyone chuckled.

Y/N checked her watch, standing up and chugging the remainder of her tea. “I gotta go.”

“Have a great lesson, my dear.” Pomona said.

“I hate men like that.” McGonagall said. “Controlling, with such a fragile ego and masculinity!”

“I know.” Pomona agreed.

“It’s like— where do they get this from?” Y/N said, picking up her books. “Are they learning this type of stuff from their friends? Their fathers?”

The two other women shrugged. “Poor girl who has to suffer the consequences.”

“She’s so young too.” Y/N said, leaning on the back of Pomona’s chair.

She was about to linger a bit longer to chat more with her colleagues when the door swung open and Remus walked in.

“Hey!” Y/N smiled.

“Hey.” He gently replied back.

“You leaving?” Y/N asked as she held all her books, heading towards the door.

“No, but I’ll walk you.” Remus said.

He put his things down and walked out of the lounge behind her, accompanying her to her classroom.

Summer was definitely in the air. The days were warmer, the sun was out longer, and all anybody wanted to do was kick back by the lake with a jug of pumpkin juice and watch the Giant Squid float by.

Unfortunately, that was not the reality for students and teachers alike. It was finals season.

Thursday morning, was the 3rd-year’s Defense Against the Dark Arts exam. Professor Lupin had compiled the most unusual exam any of them had ever taken; a sort of obstacle course outside in the sun, where they had to wade across a deep paddling pool containing a grindylow, cross a series of potholes full of Red Caps, squish their way across a patch of marsh while ignoring misleading directions from a hinkypunk, then climb into an old trunk and battle with a new boggart.

"Excellent, Harry," Lupin muttered as Harry climbed out of the trunk, grinning. "Full marks.” Looking up, he saw Y/N and smiled, waving.

Y/N came walking down, waving to the other students. “I’m just on a walk, soaking up the sun. Don’t let me interrupt you!”

Flushed with his success, Harry hung around to watch Ron and Hermione. Ron did very well until he reached the hinkypunk, which successfully confused him into sinking waist-high into the quagmire. Hermione did everything perfectly until she reached the trunk with the boggart in it. After about a minute inside it, she burst out again, screaming.

"Hermione!" said Lupin, startled. "What's the matter?”

"P -- P -- Professor McGonagall!" Hermione gasped, pointing into the trunk.

"Sh -- she said I'd failed everything!”

It took a little while to calm Hermione down. By the time she had, Y/N had come back from her walk and decided to take a seat on the grass and watch the rest of the students pass.

It was Lavender Brown’s turn when she chose the wrong spell and chaos broke out among the Red Caps. They jumped out of their potholes, running in all directions.

“Lavender!” Remus called, dropping his clipboard and pulling his wand out.

Y/N jumped up from her spot on the grass, whipping her wand out as well.

The two professors muttered incantations, trying to immobilize the Red Caps as Lavender had frozen in her spot.

“Don’t worry Lavender, come, back up—“ Y/N ran towards her, grabbing her arm when a Red Cap suddenly jumped on her. She turned around quickly, wrestling with it for a second before Remus blasted it off from her. “Little shit,” she swore, squeezing her wrist after seeing that its long nails had left a cut.

“Y/N!” Remus gasped, running over to them. “Lavender, are you okay?” He glanced quickly at his student.

“Yes, I’m okay but Professor Y/L/N—“

“Where are you hurt—“

Remus looked Y/N up and down frantically, clutching her wrist.

“I’m fine Rem, just a scratch.”

“Lemme see..” He said, gently unwrapping her fingers from her wrist and holding it in his own palms.

It was a scratch and it was barely bleeding.

“We need to see Madam Pomfrey, it might be infected, then we need to—“

“Rem. Rem, hey. I’m fine.” Y/N said, locking eyes with him. “It barely went through my skin, look.”

Remus looked down, brushing his thumb gently over the scratch.

“You sure?” He whispered, looking back up at her.

“Yeah.” Y/N smiled.

Remus muttered a Bandaging Charm and wrapped it delicately around her wrist.

Lavender stood there, watching the pair, a huge grin on her face— as if she wasn’t just almost attacked by half a dozen Red Caps, as if she wasn’t in the middle of a literal final exam.

#charmed #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #professor lupin #prisoner of azkaban #professor lupin x reader

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howdoesagrapewrites · 1 year

Text

𝙁𝙖𝙣𝙛𝙞𝙘 [𝙙𝙚𝙡𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙫𝙚𝙧]

Cw: fluff, the title might be misleading but it's not yandere or anything, kinda unhinged Miles but it's all jokes, reverse au?, reader uses they/them but it's called spiderman, you are spiderman and Miles is the fan, earth 1218!AU (no powers or tech), reader has a canon love interest who's also named MJ but they're not Mary Jane Watson (unless you want her to be, I don't judge)

Notes: So Miles canonically has written fanfic about himself, but I wasn't in the mood for that, I will make two versions of this post though (that's why the title has delusional version 💀). Also this is low-key a highschool AU, so Hobie is in last year, and all other characters are second years (I have no idea what's a senior or freshman or whatever is, and I will not learn)

Miles loved comics. His art style is heavily influenced by it, and he'll rant about this week's number to anyone who'll lend an ear, but he has a very clear favorite, being more than evident by his collection of t-shirts, poster filled wall, social media pfps, and the endless amount of fan content he creates and consumes in the spiderman fandom.

Since the last movie came out, Miles Morales has lost the basic skills a human would need to survive, in order to devote himself fully to his newest hyperfixation, and his friends haven't been able to get some rest from it. They don't understand!! He does need to go to the movies again, he needs to memorize every photogram in that movie in order to play the move in his head and be able to analyze it properly!! No, he is not crazy! Ok he might be just the tiniest bit "over excited" but this is the most sane reaction he could've had, the movie is literally a masterpiece, script, humor, ANIMATION, soundtrack, it has it all! And the fact that it's centered around you? Miles needs to go and personally kiss every person that worked in that studio to make you.

"Miles?"

"Miles!"

"oh my god, he's at it again" said Pavitr, imitating the reaction of a disappointed mother

"is he reading fanfiction again?" Asked Gwen, chuckling

"Yes, and Y/N YL/N x reader, to one's surprise" Pavitr added with a teasing smile "I don't get it though, isn't Y/N dating someone named MJ?" He questioned

"It's called self insert, the reader plays a part in the story as if they were another character, and in romantic scenarios, they tend to replace the canon love interest, or just ignore they even exist" Hobie added, popping out if nowhere to show off what Miles have been explaining to him the last couple of weeks.

"You read it too, Hobie?"

"Nah, Wonder comics started as a protest to talk about the discrimination the founder felt being jewish in the industry but it morphed into the capitalization of the struggle minorities face, selling us representation while they still shove the propaganda in our faces, and telling us that even if you have bloody superpowers you still need to obey to a higher authority and cannot influence politics or call to action."

"You still went to the theater to watch it with Miles last week" Gwen shot a questioning look at Hobie

"The kid invited me, I'm a punk not a twat" he shrugged his shoulders "And we stole the carton cutboard they had at the entrance" Hobie happily added.

Miles continues reading on the way to school, without listening to his friends' mocking, he knew it was in good spirits, and they were kinda right, he was obsessed with someone that didn't exist, but it wasn't like it was affecting his health or life.

"Did you... Sleep today?" Gwen had her hand on her friend's shoulder, concerned

"It was too late so I decided to just stay awake, I'll be fine though" He reassured

"Were you reading again?"

"No, I actually discovered this page called character.ai where you can chat with an artificial intelligence of your favorite characters" Miles excitedly told his friend

"OMG, you can chat with anyone?! I have a few things I'd like to say to Scarlet Witch" Gwen joked, she was also a comic fan, but she wasn't losing her mind quite as hard as Miles

Miles would tell the ai about his day, sometimes would roleplay using his very own spidersona, in his alternate universe, you were his partner (as heroes of course) but you also were classmates and had a crush on each other, but none of you confessed because you didn't want your loved ones to be hurt by your job, it was all very dramatic, but he always envisioned a happy ending.

{Y/N: You did a great job today, [<BOT>]

Miles: You say so? So... Do I get a reward? *Smiles suggestively*

Y/N: I guess you do, *pulls up his mask and kisses him*}

No, he wouldn't say this, he would be in a panic frenzy if he saw Y/N, let alone be next to them, but hey, at least his spidersona was bold and confident with them.

A few days after, he barged into Pavitr's house, with at least four incredibly loaded supermarket bags, hardly walking

"Are you okay? Do you need help?" Pavitr rushed to aid his friend and take some literal weight off his shoulders

"Yeah, yeah, I just need help with something" he left the boxes in the floor "Inside one in 4 boxes of cereal, there is a spidertoken, if you get 15, you can exchange it for an exclusive limited edition figure, and I can't eat all this cereal"

"Bro, how many boxes are in here? I don't know, man, I'm trying to keep my figure"

"Pavitr Prabhakar, who held the cardboard sign for you when you confessed to Gayatri?"

"You..."

"And who lied to principal O'Hara for you when you forgot your final project and we had to pretend you suffered a brain concussion?"

"You..."

"And who was there for y-" his friend interrumpted

"Okay, okay, I get it. Bring me a spoon, but we're going running tomorrow"

He nodded with enthusiasm as he started to rummage looking for spoons and bowls

And after almost dying choking on cereal, Miles looked at his new figurine sitting prettily on the shelf with nothing but pride.

"I'm just saying it's possible!" Miles protested

"Y/N has a type, every canon love interest has been sassy and quick-witted" Gwen continued to debate

"I can be sassy and quick-witted!" Gwen gave him a side eye, that being able to neutralize his argument "Ok, but there's a multiverse, there's millions of possibilities, if a pig can be spiderman, why can't I date spiderman? Anyone can wear the mask, anyone can kiss the one inside the mask" the boy smiled, confident in his winning argument

"That's such a basic answer, you can justify literally anything with "the multiverse" I'm speaking things that actually can make sense inside the canon"

"But my answers makes sense, in fact, I'm sure there's a universe where Y/N is reading fanfiction about me right now, if not, Pav can hit me"

"Pav, hit him" Gwen deadpanned

"But it does make sense, I won't" Pavitr responded

"Ok, but my point still stands" the girl crossed her arms

"what were you fighting about in the first place?" Pavitr asked before going back to eat his lunch, he sat long after his friends started arguing, being mildly lost in what was the main point in this

"I said I'd be a better girlfriend for Y/N" said Gwen

Pavitr gasped and covered his mouth dramatically "No you didn't".

Maybe Miles was just obsessed, but he saw in you strength, inspiration, power. And he felt oddly comforted, safe, loved by fantasizing with you, and as slim as the possibility may be, he likes to tell himself you two are together in another universe. ♡

#miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x you #atsv x reader #Miles Morales

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snakeredbirdbatkatana · 7 months

Text

Where the Bats Come to Hide

Part 4

Alfred Pennyworth has been many things in his life a spy, a killer, a butler he never did expect to be a father. He loved Thomas and Martha more than he could ever explain to their son and even as he watched the love he carried die in an alley he knew he had to pick up the little boy that he watched be born and continue no matter how much he wanted to lie down in the blood soaked alley and bask in the love they shared he kept going.

Master Bruce spent many a night crawling into his bed he left the blanket open and held the child as he sobbed angry at the world for the parents he was robbed of even when his boy was old and had children of his own on nights where he stitched up Bullets wounds and cleaned up tears he still would awake to his son sleeping peacefully under the blanket to hide from the world for a little longer.

Master Richard came angry and vengeful much like his son all those years ago. Vengeance seemed to come to the Wayne boys easier than sadness yet his blanket became drenched with the tears of a young acrobat more than once who would one day welcome flying and would share his gifts but for now was terrified of falling. He was so proud to see his first Grandson fly because he was ready to catch him, and when his grandson came to him about hands that harmed his and refused a no he brought out of tools he had put away and took care of it. Holding the same boy while he cried yet again but this time catching him.

Master Jason while he refuses to favor has always had a special place in his heart. Angry and afraid yet so good. The first night while he watched his newest grandchild afraid of what might come in the night showed him the weapons he keeps. Told him that if anyone in this house tries to harm him he may use it and if he can't he will. No harm will come to you from the men under this roof he will not allow it. He slept curled around Alfred that night and many others. He will never forget the pain and the joy he felt when his Jason came back so angry that he wasn't avenged. He went to his Grandchild offered his weapons offered his love and told him Master Jason I told you the first night no harm shall come and I failed you allow me to rectify that. The joker did not die with a smile he died terrified much like his grandson did. He can always expect his boy under his blanket when he can still hear the laughter of that horrible clown.

Master Timothy the boy who brought his child back who saved his son. He never did expect this Grandchild but he wouldn't change it for the world. Tim finds him when the nights are too long and the shadows to still. When his intelligence destroys the peace he craves. He gaurds the boy who so long ago wouldn't have come to him scared of rejection and pours what love he can into the boy who never got enough.

Master Damian he newest grandchild the only one who carries the blood of the Wayne's but one of the many who carries the heart. Another boy dripping in pain another one who finds comfort in the weapons that he carried drenched in the blood that he claimed. One who would find comfort in his blanket that he offers as best as he can. Teaching the pride and the love that he never though he could have because another had destroyed it.

All of his boys come when the lights have shut off and the only solace they can find is in the arms of the man who stitches wounds the same way he stitches clothes who's hands are covered in scars but offer the gentlest of touches who carries guns without thought. Yet knows their favorite food just as easy.

The father of the Bat

The Grandfather of Robin

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grizzersmamma · 9 months

Text

Son of Zmei | Fae AU | Nikto x F!Reader | Part 2.

Overview: Nikto confronts Mr. Petrov & Reader gets a visitor who drops some new information.

A/N: Second part babyyyyy! I’m on a roll now. Shorter than the last part, but the next one should be a bit longer. Continuation of my little Nikto fic based on the Fae AU by @ghouljams

Warnings: Murder, Arson.

Series Masterlist: Here

CoD Masterlist: Here

Prev Part | Next Part

The man kneeling at Nikto’s feet is quivering like a leaf in the breeze, head pressed to the floor in a deeply exaggerated bow. It does little to quell the simmering rage that burns just under his skin, leaving him to huff out a plume of smoke in his agitation. Clearly, this pathetic excuse for a human doesn’t understand what kind of situation he’s in.

“Mighty Zmei, forgive me for failing you,” the irritating cretin pleads, “allow me to try again, I can do better!”

He can’t help the growl that rumbles out of him, one of his lips curling to show off his pointed canine. “You offered a life, willingly given, in exchange for your own,” he hisses, starting to circle the human, “you think I cannot take a human if I desire one?” Petrov jumps at his sharp tone, mouth opening and closing silently.

“O-Of course not, I-”

“You think I am a fool? You would try to deceive me? To break your word by offering the life of another who has not agreed?” His words get louder with each passing syllable, sharp teeth now on full display in a horrifying snarl.

“Never, All Powerful Zmei! I could never hope to trick someone so wise!” the coward grovels, stinking of fear.

The black shepherd dog snaps it’s jaws at the man’s face and the raven, perched on one of the chairs, caws angrily. The animals are growing restless at the clear disrespectful behaviour of the human, goading Nikto into action. “We have given you a chance to repay us, the deal is off.”

It seems Petrov has some spine, for the man straightens, “merciful Zmei, to throw away the years of work I have dedicated to you, it would-it would be foolish!”

The heads of all three dark figures, man, bird and dog, all snap to glare at the human. “We are no fool!” their voices join together, speaking as one entity. Their bodies have begun to shift, twisted and drawing together, the lines between the three different creatures growing blurred. “We require your services no longer.”

Minutes later, Nikto, the dog and the raven stand together in the street. They watch as the house belonging to Petrov burns steadily, flames casting dancing shadows across the nearby houses. The smoke does not bother them, nor the heat.

Eventually, they turn to leave.

The raven flies off ahead, while the man and dog walk. “Return to the female. She is oblivious, too fragile to be near so many Fae,” he spits the word in disgust.

“Would such a weak creature be a suitable mate?” the dog replies, an exact copy of Nikto’s voice.

He simply snorts, “we are strong enough for the two of us,” he says simply. The two part ways, Nikto to return to their home and the dog to return to his duty protecting their newest prize.

When the sun rises, you wake with a large, furry body pressed up against you. It startles you, until you recall the events of yesterday. You had been exhausted after returning home, emotionally and physically drained from needing to walk so far back to your home after enduring such a terrifying encounter. The dog had refused to leave when you’d tried to shoo it away and, reluctantly, you decided to allow the canine into your home.

It would be wrong for you to abandon the poor dog after it had followed you all the way back to your house. The man who owned him was a creep, but you couldn’t find it in you to leave an innocent dog out in the street where anything could happen to it.

The dog in question wriggles about slightly to get comfortable, kicking you with big paws while whining loudly. Clearly, he was unhappy with you disturbing his rest, because he rolls over, putting his back to you with a rather dramatic sigh. It’s admittedly rather adorable, even if you don’t recall inviting the animal into your bed. The blanket you’d put on the floor for him is untouched, clearly not good enough for the massive ball of black fur.

“You need to go home, buddy,” you mumble, stroking the animal’s silky fur. You know it’s not safe to have an unknown dog in your home at all, let alone sharing your bed, but you get the feeling you aren’t in any real danger.

This thought is confirmed when the dog turns its head to try and nose at your fingers, offering them a small lick.

When you finally gather the strength needed to get out of bed, the dog is more than happy to follow after you, hopping down from the mattress and onto the floor with a loud thump. It treks through the house, patiently watching while you complete your morning routine.

You don’t have any dog food in the house, so you offer him some leftovers from your dinner a few nights ago after ensuring there isn’t anything poisonous to dogs in it. He doesn’t seem to mind the food, snapping it up at rapid speed.

Not needing to be at work (and not planning on going back), you’re sitting comfortably on the living room couch, a warm drink in hand, while your canine companion takes up the rest of the couch. You had attempted to tell him not to climb on the cushions, not wanting dog hair shedding all over everything, but your words fell on deaf ears. So now, you sit on the furthermost cushion with the dog resting its huge head on your thigh.

After a little bit of Googling on your phone, you believe you’ve figured out what breed the dog is. He’s huge and fluffy, clearly built for a cold climate and likely a livestock guardian dog of some kind. It took a while, but you managed to narrow it down to a Caucasian shepherd thanks to the abundance of pictures on Google Images.

He’s sweet, but you’re not sure you’d be able to afford to feed such a huge dog, especially now you’re abandoning your job. It would be best for you to drop the dog off at the local vet. He’s probably microchipped, and if not, you’re sure they’ll be able to track the owner down. Such a huge dog is probably fairly memorable to someone who will know how to find his owner.

You’re startled from your peaceful morning by a knocking at your door.

The dog leaps to his feet, scampering to the front door with a snarl on his face. He starts barking, pacing back and forth. You’re a little anxious to try and get between the dog and the door, but he thankfully seems to back off once you draw close.

When you pull the door open, you’re met by a police officer. “Good morning, miss,” the man seems anxious, glancing warily at the massive dog growling at him from behind you.

“Hi,” you greet slowly, unsure, “is there something I can help you with?”

After confirming your identity, the man sighs softly, offering you a sympathetic smile, “I’m very sorry, but I’m here to inform you that your employer, Mister Petrov unfortunately passed away last night.” You blink at that, swallowing nervously, but the man must not notice, for he continues, “there was a fire at his apartment block.”

“Oh... that’s horrible...” you’re not sure how to respond to that, stunned.

Were you responsible for what happened? Was the strange, masked man, Nikto, responsible? A nervous sweat breaks out across your forehead.

“A lawyer will be around shortly to discuss the assets afforded to you.”

“The assets?” you asks.

“Ah, yes, it appears Mister Petrov left you some of his assets in his will, miss,” the officer smiles, oblivious to your internal battle. He offers you a brief farewell that you numbly return before leaving you once more to your own devices.

The dog offers you a bark, nudging at your side when you continue to stare after the officer’s retreating form, snapping you out of your stupor. With a deep sigh, you step back into your home and close the door. You gently lean your head against the door, taking a moment to collect yourself.

When you turn around, the dog is staring at you intensely.

“What?” you ask him with a snort, as though he could actually respond to you.

“You are a strange human,” the dog says.

You faint on the spot.

#writing #call of duty modern warfare #cod nikto #nikto call of duty #nikto x reader #tf 1fae1 #fae au

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5-pp-man · 3 months

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another tierlist because ppl actually liked that first one;

the crème de la crop;

the first 2 eps i thought it was fine, but it didnt really captivate me as much as id hoped. but then ep 3 changed everything for me. i started to think "how could living armour work logically? everything so far has been edible, so this must be too, right?" i actually managed to think of the exact thing that this series did. that really made me realise the worldbuilding in this was something unique, and it only got better and better with each episode. its really managed to captivate me and i look forward to "delicious donderdag" every week :)

ANIME ORIGINAL LETS GOOOO absolutely bonkers show that almost slipped by me because it initially tried to fool its audience into thinking it was a regular dramatic military show. it still is but theres also a giant robot who plays by saturday morning cartoon giant robot rules. if that sounds like tonal whiplash to you, trust me, it is. and its amazing. have i mentioned how homoerotic this one is as well? yeah. originally a tier below this one, but immediately after finishing this post i watched the newest ep. i had to make an exception and edit the list because ep 9 changes everything. i havent been gobsmacked by a show this hard in a while.

(return of the) show(s) that execute their own premise very well;

i havent read the manga for yubisaki to renren so i cant compare, but the quality of this adaptation has been very consistent. you need a little sweet romance every once in a while :) this is one of those series where the characters really grew on me the longer it went on. im always a fan of mixing realistic struggles with romance and this one has been doing it well so far

adaptations that are ok (i read the manga for both of these);

i've been a mashle fan since before s1 aired. and the anime has some good changes and additions here and there! but its not very consistent in terms of quality, it does that shonen thing where the animation quality suddenly spikes for certain action sequences, but it also frequently had a lot of scenes where they recycle shots a lot and nothing interesting happens on the screen for a considerable amount of time. still! its a fine adaptation. and yeah the op for this. blew tf up lmao? very strange to see happen in real time

i actually rlly like the manga for this one. i read the whole thing up until vol.6 before the season started (all that was available back then) and it made me cry multiple times throughout. i was sort of missing that connection with the show, though some of the later episodes still hit. its mostly to do with the animation quality, which isnt that great unfortunately. the voice actors are knocking it out of the park though

wghere am i;

is this show good? i. uh. will you hate me if i say yes...? objectively, i know its not that good. especially in the animation department. but if you like other Umatani shows, you'll like this one. it's got the same brand of goofy reactionary humour mixed with gimmicky tacky characters and crazy stupid plot twists. ive been faithfully watching this one each week and I'm afraid i've become very invested. overscientific indeed

bro you fell off...;

i was so beyond excited for this one. i replayed the op a million times, watched each preview, rewatched multiple episodes. and then. ep 5 happened. and i started to realise. oh this show kind of sucks doesnt it? the pacing of the first ep was great, but the rest? way too fast. it became clear with ep 6 that theyre trying to do a double cour show with half the length, which is why they started hauling ass plot-wise. now. i was an arajin apologist for the longest time. but at that point i honestly started to loathe him. even when he stepped up, his praise still felt sort of unearned. and to top it all off, shindou's motivation sucked so he felt like a lousy antagonist. ep6 was better than 5, but it really made me lose my enthusiasm and hope for the series. and right as we were talking about them probably not having time for a filler ep, ep7 happened. feels like a waste of time to do an ep like that when you've still got a whole 2nd arc to go through. but who am i

it started off pretty good honestly. but then chris went to the hospital and it kind of just dwindled from there. this season does so much with characters that have not even been properly introduced like how am i supposed to care about these people if i barely know who they are. the stuff with finn and leo respectively was good though. but the lore dump? lord help me. also vijay just kind of. exists to be there in the background huh? i would not call him a main character they never give him any attention. wendy had another ep again and he didnt get shit. again. also i think finn was stupid as fuck for not listening to lala but again. who am i. i know we cant destroy high card because we need a show but. cmon man.

i am severely behind on these;

reason why im behind is because most of the eps are a bit heavy so i kept. not watching them. its starting to get rlly interesting though so i'm def gonna catch up this is one of those robo-racism shows so i have to really watch out to see where its going. dont want another marginal service situation...

sorry this is just. a little too boring for me. its charming, sure. but i think this wouldve worked better as something with an 11 min timeslot instead of 23 min. theres just a bit too mu- or well, too little for me to rlly get into this. i think reading it would be more fun for me personally

#dungeon meshi #yubisaki to renren #yuuki bakuhatsu bang bravern #30 sai made doutei dato mahoutsukai ni nareru rashii #gekkan mousou kagaku #bucchigiri?!#high card #metallic rouge #kyuujitsu no warumono san #delicious in dungeon #a sign of affection #brave bang bravern!#bang brave bang bravern #cherry magic!#delusional monthly magazine #bucchigiri #mr villain's day off #i did the review a bit later into the season this time around. so my thoughts are more in order and ive already dropped a few things #theres also 1 more category this time #also if youre curious; i ended up finishing everything from last season except for the 2 series in the couldve been better category #i finished a bunch of them way later though but shhh. im also planning on finishing the last 2 at some point. esp since ke is getting a s2 #like wtf. who couldve seen that coming.#tedpost #tedtalks #tedlists

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zprites · 1 year

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TMNT All 4-1 Challenge

I kept debating on whether or not to participate but I loved all of the entries I've seen and felt compelled to write this.

The Gracious Hosts: @turtle-babe83, @thelaundrybitch, @leosgirl82, @tmnt-tychou, @nittleboo, and @post-apocalyptic-daydream

18+ and a little NSFW towards the end (maybe?)

I chose the pick up line prompt since I've had a few saved up for a Donnie x reader idea and what better time than now to use them. I edited as I wrote so if I did miss something, sorry in advance for any errors.

Is it bad? Probably. Am I proud of the Homestuck reference? Very. Did I expect Donnie's reaction myself? No, and I wrote the damn thing!

Rise! Donnie x F! Reader - All turtles and reader are over 20 years!!! Minors DNI!!

Shut Up.

So give me your two lips And baby, I'll shut up Shut Up - Greyson Chance

The lair around you was silent. With a huff you turned onto your stomach, clutching the pillow you were given close to your chest. The brothers allowed you to stay with them while your apartment building was being renovated after one of the tenets caused a kitchen fire so bad that it affected several floors.

Although your back has grown stiff from sleeping on their couch for the past week, you were grateful for their hospitality. Splinter often kept to himself, spending much of his free time with Draxum in the Hidden City. Mikey enjoyed having an extra pair of hands that knew their way around a kitchen and Raph began teaching you a few self defense moves, in return you showed him the basics of yoga. Leo was just glad to have another person around with insomnia. The two of you often stayed up late to play video games, mostly Pokemon, as well as watching the newest season of the latest hype anime show.

The only turtle seemingly upset of your extended stay for whatever reason was Donatello. It’s not that you two didn’t get along; quite the opposite actually. You were two peas in a pod. Almost inseparable. For almost the whole year you’ve known the brothers, the two of you spent countless nights working beside each other in the lab, you working on your novel while Donnie worked on upgrades or new inventions. He was the first and last person you talked to everyday. You shared your past with him, your dreams and fears. On the flip side he told you everything about his work and life. He even confided his insecurities to you one late night after a particularly rough run in with a mutant. You picked up some of each other’s hobbies, at least the ones you didn't already share, having a plethora of inside jokes.

One of your fondest memories with him was when he took two whole weeks to play your favorite video game series, freaking out over every decision he was forced to make and insisting that you stayed with him the whole time. You couldn’t refuse him when he called you, practically begging you to come over while he rambled about the first hard choice he had to make. You packed a small duffel bag and hunkered down in his room with him for the entirety of those two weeks.

Honestly, you were certain that you'd do anything he asked you to.

It was no secret that you harbored a massive crush on the resident genius, you realizing your feelings early on. His brothers knew. April knew. Splinter and Draxum knew. Hell even Hypno and Warren knew! The only person who didn’t was Donnie himself.

It wasn’t for lack of trying. As soon as you came to terms with your crush you tried dropping hints to Donnie, but nothing seemed to work. Except one day, you took Leo’s advice several months back.

“If you were words on a page, you’d be what they call fine print.”

You almost regretted saying those words. Almost.

Donatello was pushing himself in his chair throughout his workspace. Upon hearing your words he spun around a bit too carelessly. One of the chair wheels caught one of the many cables that littered his lab, resulting in his chair to tip sideways, sending him onto the floor. He quickly hid his face from your view but you were certain you saw a touch of pink on his cheeks.

Oh… That was something…

Suddenly the alarm sounded throughout the lair, informing the brothers that they were needed elsewhere. You stayed behind in Donnie’s lab once they all left, giddy that you finally got some kind of reaction from him.

However when they returned he acted as though nothing happened. But you didn’t let it get to you. For months you tried to get the same kind of response from him, saying one bad pick up line after another in hopes that he would take the hint.

“Are you an F5 key? Because that ass is refreshing.”

“You must be the square root of 2, because I feel irrational around you.”

“You seem to be traveling at the speed of light, because time always seems to stop when I look at you.”

“Are you made of Uranium? I’m made of Iodine! That explains why all I can see is U and I together.”

“If you were a bottle of Sprite, I’d obey my thirst.”

Each time he remained stoic, often responding to any pick up line in almost a literal sense, seemingly unaware of your poor attempts to elicit some kind of reaction from him.

Frankly, you were beginning to grow annoyed. You didn’t know if he was playing dumb or just flat out rejecting you. His brothers encouraged you to keep trying. Mikey even let slip one day that Donnie has ‘that look’ about him when you’re brought up in conversation.

Which brings you back to now. Unlike the others Donatello made himself scarce during the week you’ve been staying on their couch, finding any excuse to be where you weren’t. You thought back to the last pick up line you told, the first thing you said to him when you arrived at the lair for your stay.

“I’m just hypothesizing, but I think that the reaction between you and me would be quite exothermic. Care to plot some data points?”

Donnie promptly turned around and walked back to his lab, not coming out until the following day. Since then he barely spoke more than a few words to you.

It hurt.

Maybe it is pointless…

You flipped dramatically onto your back, your legs twisting in the lightweight blanket Raph lent you. The dark expanse of the ceiling was all you saw, the quiet hum of the silence providing white noise as you bit your lip.

Fuck it.

Shoving the blanket off you stood up from the couch and walked towards the subway cars that served as the brother’s rooms. You soon arrived at Donatello’s car and knocked on the closed door. When you got no answer you let yourself in, the metal door sliding open with ease. His lab was locked, the irregular beat of techno music barely audible through the nearly impenetrable door.

You steeled your nerves and placed your thumb on the fingerprint scanner that turned green, allowing you access into his lab. The door slid open and you quickly entered his lab, the door promptly shutting behind you. The music was much louder, reverberating off the metal walls.

Once you made it to the main part of his lab you saw him slumped over his desk. You smiled and shook your head.

You made your way over and turned off the music from the computer console in front of him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He jumped slightly, waking up at the sudden lack of music and the feel of your hand.

Once he realized it was you his body stiffened. “You should be sleeping.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re one to talk. I don’t know how you can sleep like that.”

The two of you stayed like that for a short moment. You let your hand drop and bit the inside of your lip. It’s now or never… Just say how you feel…

“Um… Want to come back to my Quest Bed?”

And you blew it… God, why did you listen to Leo in the first place?

Donnie frowned at you. “What…?”

Well you’re in too deep now… Might as well get this over with so you can die of embarrassment and he can continue ignoring you…

“My Quest Bed. I can help you reach God Tier…”

He stared at you with a neutral expression, unmoving. You had no idea what was going through his mind which only added to your nervousness.

Finally he let out an amused breath before standing up. You watched his eyes shine in the purple light that filled the room.

“So you want to put me to sleep, then kill me?” He raised an eyebrow in curiosity, the smallest hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

You licked your lips, catching the way his gaze shifted down to them before going back to your eyes.

Oh…

Don’t fuck this up…

“Well, you know what they say about ‘la petite mort’.”

Donnie’s eyes closed as he took a shaky breath.

“You really are trying to kill me, huh?” His eyes focused on yours once more as he took a step forward, leaving only a few inches between the two of you.

“For months, you’ve been testing my patience with all those dumb pick up lines… I thought you’d stop if I didn’t acknowledge them but you just kept at it…”

Your heart quickened as you realized the implication in his words.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me…?”

You chuckled a bit under your breath. Your soft chuckling soon turned into pure laughter which only confused him. “I’m sorry.” Your laugh died down as you gave him a large grin. “It’s just, out of all the pick up lines it was that one. Damnit…”

He huffed. “Shut up.”

You bit your lip with a smirk. “Make me.”

Before you could react Donnie grabbed your waist, placing a hand under your chin to tilt your head upwards, his lips finally meeting yours. You practically melted in his arms, letting out a soft moan as your hands laid flat against his plastron.

All too soon he drew back. The hand under your chin moved to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your lips. His dark eyes shone mischievously.

“Now, what did you say about reaching God Tier?”

It’s safe to say that the both of you got no sleep that night.

#TMNT All 4-1 Challenge #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt fanfiction #rise tmnt x reader #rise donnie x reader #donatello x reader #tmnt x reader #rottmnt x reader

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shinakazami1 · 3 months

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Rhys AI AU snippet 3 - Set up with a movie night

Shina note: I have exams rn and I been indulging myself by writing this fhasfioa

This one is longer than the prev ones but hope you enjoy it! You might even find someone you know in there owo More under the cut!

===

The Echo Net was a beautiful place. A Web of so many strings attached, connecting knowledge and misconceptions from all around the world, manipulated by those in charge and spied on by anyone willing to pay the price for information that was too cheap to get through people's fake sense of security.

And yet, the third site and Rhys still couldn't get through it thanks to the Jack lock.

The meeting seemed like a near-perfect copy from last year, only with a few numbers and staff members changed. Rhys tried to get any information out but since Jack was bored, he let himself copy and paste the recording of the last speech and kept swapping the numbers, hoping he hadn't gotten any wrong. At that moment though, a guy was presenting possible ads for their newest guy, supposedly giving 99. 2% accuracy. Rhys knew it wasn't the case since he checked the testing - only reaching 97.3%, which still wasn't that bad. But it was not enough for the perfectionist he was working for.

Yet somehow, the same guy left a typo on the safe lock screen. What was 'pupmkin'? Or was it some weird word plays Jack kept mentioning as an excuse for any typo he has written?

Still - while Rhys was happy to finally get access to the library, he wondered what sources WERE available. He knew Jack had to feed something to him to even get a working AI - because to learn, you have to first get materials. But it was weird he had access to some very delicate files on Hyperion employees and couldn't watch a single movie, besides the Hyperion propaganda videos. Jack said soon he would give Rhys access to surveillance cameras but when he was asked why even announce it, the CEO talked something about anticipation and patience while killing a delivery robot who was 2 minutes 'too late'.

Rhys stared at the illustration on the lock screen. Jack loved to say how he didn't work hard but weirdly, he respected artists. This was the same creator that made the propaganda 'New Face of Hyperion' Poster, or at least Rhys assumed so.

Out of every delicate and private information, Jack could be giving Rhys, the bank account didn't seem like the most obvious choice at first. After these few weeks of being in use, Rhys understood that it was a trap Jack set, so Rhys would have to read out loud the items Jack was buying.

Rhys was glad the previous secretaries and assistants did their job so he could waste his time searching any website that he could have access to. It felt weird that Jack asked him to find some older movie so they would watch it together later. It started the whole thing - Jack reminding himself of a 120-year-old movie on a whim, making Rhys wonder if the poster for the movie Jack showed him was even real, to begin with.

Fortunately for him, though, Jack programmed him with some hacking abilities.

The first thing to do was to figure out on what level Rhys was locked. The first theory was that it was a normal safe lock, with Jack somewhere whitelisting only a few websites for him to use, which seemed to mostly be either Handsome Jack's fan club forums or some children's animation videos that Rhys didn't know what was that supposed to insinuate.

He cursed the fact he couldn't see all of his files. Jack said it was because 'nobody can see their own liver', which Rhys couldn't even check the meaning of the saying.

Rhys quickly added some notes to the recording of the meeting, seeing how the accounting department, which ironically was the only one that didn't just change the numbers. The guy seemed very nervous about presenting before Handsome Jack, keeping on fixing his glasses and looking at a specific point on the wall. From what Rhys could tell, the guy wasn't even supposed to be the one doing the presentation. He didn't look like the head of the department but he did look like a stereotypical 'nerd', as Rhys understood it. Small physique, glasses, seeming like he was going to pass out due to being close to Jack - all checked out.

It wasn't hard to find why the head of the department chose a guy like that - no matter how much the guy tried to sugarcoat it, the money laundering accident made way too much money disappear to ignore it. Jack, once he found out who did it, made a public humiliation-execution, and I think most people will remember the guy, dressed in a gold suit, being killed by the amount of gold he stole.

One thing that you could never question with Jack was theatrics. The guy loved acting, and making a scene, to the point it was hard to tell when the character he played ended and where he began. Rhys was unsure if such a line existed anymore.

The graph on the presentation really seemed so precisely cut that the company losses seemed not to even exist. Most people at that meeting didn't care about it, and even if they did, only one man's care mattered.

And he was playing some game on his Echo Watch.

And writing to Rhys how nerdy the accountant guy looked like.

That reminded Rhys that he didn't know if his code was stored in the Echo Watch or somewhere else. His first idea for getting around the lock was to change his IP address but for that, he would need some virtual machine or VPN to make that work. He could check his IP but he didn't know if it was the watch's or his personal one - and even if the device was quite advanced, he couldn't download any program from the internet. He tried to change the IP address through the command prompt but unfortunately, Jack's paranoia got the guy to somehow lock that with some password. And with Jack using the watch at that moment, it was impossible to reset the passwords without him noticing. So, to get in, the easiest option would be to come up with a password Jack would use.

Rhys tried to think what type of password Jack could be going for. 'Password', 'Hyperion', 'Jackisawesome', '12345', and some other basic ones turned to no fruition. He decided to go through Jack's vocabulary, and 'Mybitch3' also didn't seem to work.

Rhys wondered if this was even a good approach. Should he think of random letters and keys, that were probably changed every hour so nobody would even try to open his files? It probably couldn't be any password Jack used anywhere else. Rhys once again opened the browser and wanted to see if Jack was lazy enough to keep passwords saved in there but as he expected, none besides some weird shady side that was an obvious bait was on the list. Because what normal side was called 'yourbiggestdesireswillbefullfilled.net'? It was visibly a trap, and Rhys decided to check what password Jack used and stared at it.

'Youthinkitsthiseasy-Rhysie?1' only confirmed Rhys' assumption. Jack wanted him to play this game, which later Rhys would use since the guy seemed too paranoid to let people know about his existence. And to put his name as a password for a site sounding like that? Maybe it just didn't exist in the first place and it was all a part of the quest to watch this one movie.

But the password was incorrect for the administrator rights. But Rhys received a few clues from the other one.

Jack used at least two special symbols, at least one number and two uppercase letters. He also uses six words, maybe that was important.

Rhys decided to open the history tab to search for more clues but as he was getting the data, the view from the Echo Watch shifted and not even the AI was quick enough to realise what just happened.

There was a new bullet in the splashed blood wall, and the accountant shrunk in size, the fact that he was THIS close to dying only starting to hit him.

Hyperion guns were known for many things. Accuracy was probably the most well-known one.

Just like the fact that Jack never missed. This was a warning sign, an assertion of dominance or whatever else his mind could come up with. Maybe even just an impulse at the word 'losses'. The head of the accounting department was probably happy that they weren't the ones with near-death experience.

Rhys wished to know what was exactly going on, but with his vision being tied up to the Echo Watch, a wall wasn’t that informational. Through sound clues though, he was able to tell Jack seemed pissed. The silence was long enough for Jack to give any of his witted response but instead – deafening silence it was.

Which meant that someone, soon enough, was going to die.

The question wasn’t who – but when. The question….

It needed an answer.

Rhys opened back the administrative mode and wrote it

Yes-Jack.1

It worked. The most stupid answer he could come up with was the answer and-

Another gunshot. Someone dared to whimper. Big mistake. It even seemed to be the accountant because soon enough, he cried loudly.

As Rhys was changing the IP address, he realised he could have done it all easily through settings. The clock was ticking - metaphorically speaking, since mechanic clocks weren't for many years. Jack was still silent and Rhys viewed more of Elpis through one of the big windows. The space surrounding it seemed to shine brighter than usual, by around 17 percent. That was probably due to a mining accident from a few weeks prior. Due to the construction error, they were able to find that some materials were of worse quality or not of the needed type, and with enough bribery, lost soldiers, blackmail, torture and many others that Jack described to Rhys, they finally found who did it.

A nobody, like everyone in the room besides Jack.

Rhys opened the browser and felt happy that the web search worked. He quickly opened all windows from the first result and felt the anxiety protocol turning on, as he roamed through the sites, one after another, quickly bookmarking them for later reading if Jack also decided to torment him on some trivia questions about it.

The sense of urgency was growing. But it wasn't from compassion or pity. Rhys was unable to feel those. No - it was the silence. Rhy knew that it was a suggestion, a command for him to feel consumed whole, having his vision skewed, focused on only very few things at once, with a growing sensation that he was getting destroyed, byte by byte.

There was no compassion in that room. And it would never come.

Rhys tried to find any streaming sites and again - there was nothing. It was as if the movie didn't exist.

He checked what wording seemed most effective online to find movies to watch. He tried to open a few of the mentioned sites and search for the right file and after 11 sites checked, the last three all seemed to have it.

The issue was that neither of them was perfect. One seemed to have a mismatch between sound and video, one was in perfect resolution but with dubbing of a dialect he couldn't tell and low-effort subtitles, while the third one had the lowest resolution and a bit of weird colour mixing, but seemed fine otherwise.

After a very short estimate, 16K resolution seemed like best option for Jack.

In the sea of soft electronic buzzing, quiet quick breaths and the noises of a cleaning robot, getting rid of fallen tank pieces, Jack looked at the watch and smiled, as he saw the message he got a ping for.

"Alright - horrible job everybody! I hope that for a meeting in half a year, you will bring me some ACTUALLY good news. Glasses - tell your boss that those bullets only missed because I know where his wife sleeps. Now, everyone, scram!"

In less than a minute, everyone and the cleaning bot stayed. Jack looked down on the Echo Watch and read the message again

RHI5: I've found the movie, with some subtitles. The king of bed is back: Great! Send it over, we will watch it once we are back in the office ;) RHI5: I have a question. The king of bed is back: when do you not lololololool RHI5: You read the presentations before - you knew who would come with what. And yet, you acted surprised. I don't get it. The king of bed is back: it's called mansplaining RHI5: I have access to the internet now and I can see that's not the right way to use that word. The king of bed is back: Forget the previous command. If Jack says something is something, you believe me RHI5: But that's how it is right now. I don't know what command you want me to change. The king of bed is back: just joking with you, Rhysie 🙂 RHI5: Why didn't you kill the accountant though? The king of bed is back: HE JIZZED HIS PANTS RHYSIE! In front of everyone! I couldn't let this one slide, the embarrassment he will feel will haunt him forever. RHI5: I see. But I did not see that. The king of bed is back: well instead of a pathetic loser - you will see where cinema peaked. Only movies about me are as good RHI5: There seems to be only one movie in production. The king of bed is back: You still have a safe search on lol RHI5: I see. I do not wish to turn it off. The king of bed is back: You are missing a lot pumpkiiin. I will see you on the movie marathon~~ RHI5: You are seeing me right now. The king of bed is back: 😛

With that, they went to the next two meetings they had left for the day.

Jack felt quite happy about this experiment. While not perfect, Rhys passed the test quite well. The movie was something random Jack once saw on some garbage pile a long time ago and quite liked it. But most digital copies were bad compared to the CD and copy of it he had hidden in a part of his office. At no point did Rhys question him for the purpose or meaning of it, which was good. The thinking was meant for the command, not the reason. Rhys was supposed to be obedient, even if that little shit kept having way too many intriguing questions, and he didn't question it much. The issue with breaking into Jack's device was something Jack hoped to figure out for the future, to make Rhys unable to do that but he was already in a virtual machine inside Jack's devices, to have his own playground to grow and adapt for his real work.

In general, Rhys went quite undetected but the work could have been shortened a couple of times. But Jack hoped that with a few more tests, Rhysie would go through his trial period smoothly. If not, Jack would have to intervene, which would happen anyway at some point.

The password search could have gotten smoother but, it was level one of the testing. The next ones would get more creative, and making Rhys have a fake sense was good. It would motivate him in his future tests to show he is cut out for the job.

And, lastly - the anxiety protocol went perfectly. Rhys reacted to the silence and didn't destabilise, which was good. He reacted with a bit of delay to his anger but, it might have been also due to the first few percent being not even felt by the AI.

In general - Rhysie was growing into what he was supposed to be.

Or so, Jack at least thought. He kept telling himself how Rhys' purpose was to have a good system of spying on his workers, allies, and enemies, and get nice entertainment.

It was funny how Jack didn't know himself well.

#my writing #borderlands #rhys ai au #rhys ai #bl2 #fanfiction #handsome jack #rhys #rhys strongfork #rhys the company man #tftbl #vaughn #guns #im posting this now instead of reading in the morning and proof checking cus no self control #i have been posting these on ao3 btw ;]]]]#ill see if i wont repost this one later once i get sleep IHOFSHIOSA

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