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trashmouth-richie · 2 years ago

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masterlist

eddie x fem reader

chapter summary: how sweet it is, to be loved.

series summary: You were desperate for a roommate after Nancy got married and moved out. An ad in the paper goes unanswered until someone comes knocking on the door.

special thanks: to anyone and everyone who read a single chapter or kept up with this series to the end, thank you so much- this story wouldn’t be possible without your support.

author’s note: I can’t believe this is the final chapter for this series, I’m feeling so many emotions right now but mostly just love for Eddie and Tooty and everything in between. Thank you to anyone who has helped me beta ( @sweetsweetjellybean especially!)this story or fan girled with me over upcoming chapters. To any of the very talented artists who have made any art for this series, thank you so very much, each and every piece holds such a special place in my heart. To anyone who is mentioned in this story, thank you so so much, @loveshotzz @chechelia @carolmunson @mopeymopeymouse and everyone else— thank you for allowing me to include you in this series. To everyone who has liked, rb’d left a comment or interacted in any way with this series— THANK YOU. This series has brought such joy & heartache to me, and I’m so lucky to have people enjoy it. 🖤

Cereal

Hotdogs

Bananas

Jelly —grape, not strawberry

Bread

Crackers

Toothpaste

Noodles

Chicken thighs— babe are you making fun of me?

Heartburn medicine

You tap the chewed cap of your pen along the lined paper of a scribble heavy grocery list. Desperately wishing you had x-ray vision to see inside your cabinets and remember what you were in need of, you chew the cap again.

Giggling to yourself every so often at Eddie’s notes on the grocery list. Crossing off items he thought weren’t needed, mostly vegetables he didn’t like. And always making sure you got his favorites. And not, “that healthy bullshit cereal, give me sugar or kill me babe, I will not eat Raisin Bran”

Peanut butter

Sunny D

Thyme

Heavy cream

Basil

Carrots

Onions

Chicken stock

Hey sweetheart can you please get me some candy? I like skittles but you know I love m&ms.. and twizzlers, it’s for the shop. :)

The lady behind the desk chirps a name again, but you are still racking your brain on what else was needed. The soup you had planned on making tonight would be perfect for the chilly weather rolling in. November was coming in like a lion, ferociously cold and temperatures already dipping below zero.

Eddie loved your potato soup, so much that he begged you to make it after another long, grisly week at the shop.

He loved everything you made, even your chili that he doctored up by adding sour cream and Doritos to it. Bon Appetit he would say with a smirk on his lips, a heaping bowl steaming in front of him.

The clerk behind the desk tutted and huffed, the schedule was getting behind.

“Tooty Munson! Is there a Tooty Munson here?”

You glance up quickly at the sound of your name, “shit,” you breathe, “here, yes,” you scramble shoving the list and pen into your purse, buried amongst the gum wrappers and a spilled container of tic-tacs.

The receptionist clicks her papers against the formica counter and holds her nose in the air, as if this job and you were beneath her.

“He’s ready for you now.”

—-

“…alright, Ed, did ya look o’er those applications yet? ‘Tween you D and Mike I don’t think we are going to be able to keep up everything that we got on the schedule.”

Wayne’s eyebrows are raised as he looks over the bifocals perched on his nose. He had been scouring over the schedules and the books for the better half of the afternoon since lunch hour—trying to figure out how to swing their overloaded schedule.

It wasn’t that they couldn’t do the work, they were simply short handed. After Boom closed his doors in Hawkins, he had recommended to his regulars that they travel to Bridgeport to Master Mechanics to see Eddie and Wayne. Business was booming, and the Munson’s could barely keep up.

Early on, Wayne and Eddie decided they would only be open until noon on Saturday’s but now with the packed schedule, they worked til almost dark every night of the week, including some Sundays.

Wayne rubs his short nails through his scratchy mostly white scruff, “we can’t have these boys workin’ like this, they’ll quit on us before you can slap a tick.”

Eddie was leaning against the doorway, a bottle of Coca Cola held limp in his hand, a greasy rag stuffed in his back pocket.

“Yeah,” he yawns, stretching out his back, “let’s hire ‘em all, we need the extra hands, or I’m gonna need an extra back.”

Wayne grunts in confirmation. The highlighter squeaks as it’s drug across the phone numbers on the applications, “I’ll call ‘em first thing in the morning,” he straightens up his desk and shoves the papers into a drawer.

His glasses clink as he folds them up and lays them next to a picture of the newlywed Munson’s. He leans back in his chair, the leather crinkling beneath his worn coveralls, “I’m callin’ it for the day,” he exhaled, staring up at the ceiling, “it’s been one helluva week and I’m shot, tell the boys to go home to their wives.”

“and you too,” he points, “go take care of your wife, Ed, tell her I hope she starts to feelin’ better.”

Eddie’s curls bounce as he nods his head, completely drained from the week, shit maybe he was getting sick too? “she went to the doctor today, probably just the flu, Max told her it was going around.”

“Well then,” Wayne says, standing up and clicking off the table lamp, “take tomorrow off and rest–

both of ya, hear me?”

“Don’t need to tell me twice.”

—

Eddie’s tires crunch on the ice and hard packed snow of the driveway, a silent serenity, meaning he is only moments away from holding you in his arms, seconds away from kissing your lips, and if he was lucky, minutes from eating something delicious to fill his grumbling stomach.

He throws the truck into neutral, killing the engine and tossing the keys around his finger. Tracks from your Jeep tires lead into the garage he had built last spring. A huge project that your friends were paid in beer and a bonfire when it was all finished.

Thrusting his sore hands into his canvas coat, he ducked his chin into the zipper and braved the asthma inducing gust of wind to the front door as it whipped through his curls.

The house was oddly quiet, only the hum of the refrigerator making any sort of sound. Usually when he came home you’d be playing the radio, or talking on the phone to Max or Nancy, greeting him with a pop of your head around the wall in the kitchen or from the hallway, the prettiest smile put on your lips.

“Princess?” he called out in endearment as he untied his boots and put them on the shoe rack. His coatwas already hanging on its hook, usually next to your purse but your purse was thrown onto the arm chair, and your shoes were in the hallway like you had walked right out of them.

He undid the buttons of his work blues, letting them hang at his waist like a mechanic cape. Socked feet trudge down the carpeted hallway, you must not be feeling any better, probably too exhausted to make it out of bed.

But Eddie was wrong.

You were perched on top of the comforter, coat still on but unzipped staring at the door waiting for his arrival, fuzzy socks on your wiggling toes.

“Hey, handsome,” you said, trying to keep your pitch even.

“There’s my girl,” his velvet voice wrapping around you like a hug as he crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching for your left hand and kissing the finger that adorned the prettiest ring he’d ever bought, “how’s my beautiful wife?”

It had been five months since you said I do. A June wedding in your own backyard, filled with friends who had served as family for years, gathered by your sides.

“I forgot the potatoes,” you say blankly, a weird little smile on your face.

Eddie sits down next to you, rubbing your thigh back and forth and letting out an exhausted yawn, “That’s alright, I can make us some grilled cheese if you’re up for—”

“I was looking at my grocery list, and couldn’t remember what I’d forgot.”

Eddie’s confused, but wants to reassure you that its no big deal, he’s a grown man he can certainly make supper for himself and his wife. “Sweetheart it’s okay, don’t beat yours—“

“Can’t make potato soup without potatoes.” And this time you laugh, kind of whimsically and in disbelief.

His brows turn inward, still he just keeps reassuring you that everything is fine, “It’s okay Tooty, seriously. Let me go make you some—”

And for the third time tonight, you interrupted him, “doctor said that’s normal.”

He’s exhausted and is honestly more confused than he would like to admit, “what? The flu?”

“No, no. “ you say, a twisted little smirk on your face, “forgetting things, throwing up in the morning, being exhausted… totally normal.”

“Babe?” He moves to touch the back of his hand to your head, wincing when he realizes that he’s probably freezing.

“I was so scared the last time,” you whisper, teary eyed, “terrified.. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but now—.”

Eddie reaches for your cheeks, holding them softly, his eyes searching yours, desperate to figure out what the hell is going on, “what am I missing here? It’s normal to have… the flu?”

“No, it’s not the flu,” you finally admit, looking up at him and rubbing the back of his hands with your thumbs,

“Eddie, I’m pregnant.”

—

You could fill an empty pool up from the tears that sprung from Eddie’s eyes that night. He was overjoyed, holding you tight while he wept into your hair. Kissing your belly and whispering to the baby. Small streaks of tears flowing down your swollen skin and the faded scar across your lower belly.

Each month that ticked by, Eddie’s worry only doubled.

The day after you had found out, he woke early. Watching as your chest rose and fell as you slept soundly in the original mock up of his hellfire shirt.

It was threadbare, cotton worn so thin it was practically see through— but you claimed it as your own back in the early days of your new relationship, hands on your hips and the infamous pout on your lip as you playfully argued with him about how it was now yours.

Dusk painted the diamond covered ground from the fresh snow over night. Falling as delicately as his lips allover your skin. Soaking up the dainty noises from your throat when he carefully slid into you, tears spilling from both of your eyelashes, love filling the room more sweetly than it ever had before.

The soft cotton of the blankets hugged your curves, and he exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he gazed down at his beautiful— now pregnant— wife.

His sweet Tooty, carrying a gift more precious than gold.

Kissing your cheek—he dressed quietly, scribbling a note on the bedside table about going into town for a bit, but to just relax in bed until he got home.

You were having a dreamless sleep, not even sugarplums could dance in your head with the overwhelming exhaustion that your body was trying desperately to catch up from.

Something cold then silky smooth brushed against your cheek, and a velvet voice sang a little good morning greeting into your ear. Your loving husband. Pressing sweet angel kisses behind your ear and on your eyelids.

Your bedroom was lit with the glow of a warm sun in the afternoon light. Playing a yellowed hue of warmth across your comforter, pulling the caramel color from Eddie’s curls and making his eyes look like a dreamy cup of coffee swirling with creamer.

His lips hug yours, both smiling into one another. Heart swelling more than your toes would in the months to come.

C’mon, got a surprise for you, princess.

The spare bedroom that was once a room for band equipment, then Max’s bedroom for almost a year before she eventually moved in with Gareth and Will, now held storage, was completely organized, and held a wide array of items.

A crib, brand new and still in the box, a pack n play, a swing, every box of diapers ranging from size 1 - 5, baby gates, outlet covers, fancy locks for cabinets and drawers, rubber bumpers for sharp corners and edges of tables.

A bookshelf full of baby books, how to’s for new parents, nursery rhymes by mother goose, books suggesting baby names and their meanings, and a guide on how to quit smoking.

Tucked into the corner of the room by the bookshelf and near the window, was a rocking chair.

“Eddie,” you gasp, running sleep from your eyes, “wh-what is all of this?”

He’s smiling ear to ear, trying to curb his enthusiasm a tiny bit. “I might have gotten a little carried away.”

Turning towards the shelf you see a plastic sack, full of candy and bubble gum, and mints. “Edward Joseph Munson.”

“Don’t scold me, mama,” he jokes, grabbing onto your hips and kissing your hairline, “I’m just spoiling our baby.”

God you loved this man, he’d break his neck to give you the world. He was the most loving husband, and now you got to see him step into a new role. One completely foreign to you both, only have shared the idea for a few moments before it was ripped away.

You lean into him, holding him tight and working your nose into the crook of his neck. “You’re gonna be the best dad, Eddie.”

He doesn’t hide the tear that slips down his cheek, just lets it slide and collect under his chin, his voice is quiet when he asks, “you really think so?”

“I know it.”

—

Wayne and Karen followed behind the new family in his pickup all the way home from the hospital. They were going to stay for a few days, help you both get adjusted to life as parents.

Karen and Nancy had filled your freezer with casseroles, soups and fresh bread. It was a hot July day when you were scheduled for the c section, and when it was all said and done four days in the hospital was more than enough and you were ready to be at home, snuggled up with your new family.

It was a battle of which Munson man could shed the most tears. Eddie and Wayne were both wiping away tears for hours. Overjoyed with emotions that everyone was healthy.

“No you don’t,” Wayne said as you reached for the back door to grab the diaper bag, “you go right inside and get comfy, get them legs up!”

You do as your told, leaving Wayne, Eddie and Karen to carry the load in. The hospital stay was overwhelmingly sweet, but you knew Eddie was itching to get back to normalcy, still not liking the way he felt cooped up in the hospital even though it had been years since you both had the horrifying visit.

Bags and suitcases are carried in and set into your master bedroom to be unpacked later, bottles and diapers are stacked and put into their respectable places. Karen starts warming up the chicken casserole she had prepared earlier that day. Wayne fussed around with the new dishwasher that he and Eddie had installed the month prior.

Throughout the commotion you had fallen asleep, legs propped up in the recliner, but you woke to the sound of the front door closing, and there he was.

Eddie was holding them both, large hands cocooned around their swaddled little bodies, crooked into each of his arms. Something he was nervous about but slowly getting the hang of, the nurses told him he was a natural, and Wayne wept into Karen’s shoulder when Eddie introduced the twins to their grandpa.

His normal obnoxious voice was murmuring low and quiet like a soft lullaby so as not to stir awake the sleeping little babies.

He looked at them both, adoration and tears springing into his eyes. He had never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life. How he could have helped make something so small and delicate, he wouldn’t understand. But, he didn’t need to.

A boy, born first— with his dark eyes and brown hair, and later the little girl, almost identical to his Tooty, and just as stubborn, both already wrapped around his fingers.

He murmured their names, and caught your eye as he said it, a smile so wide on his face that you were sure new dimples would bust through his cheeks, and you only heard the end of what he was saying.

If you would have told yourself five years ago that you would one day own a home, get married to and have twins with Eddie Munson, you would have laughed on the spot. That loud mouth jackass of a guy you had once regretted letting move into your home, had moved right into your heart and never left.

The demons inside you both were finally at bay, finding solace in one another in more ways than you had thought possible. Being loved by Eddie was everything you had thought love should be like.

And you pinch yourself to make sure it's real, and each and every time, it is.

“…babies,” he says, a smile on his lips and tears in his eyes as he looks over at you, his family, “we’re home.”

The end

♡tag list: @dashingdeb16 @emxxblog @pretendthisnameisclever @mommybaby-witch @eddies-acousticguitar @tlclick73 @figmentofquinn @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @whenshelanded @micheledawn1975 @3rd-conchord * @leelei1980 @browneyes8288 @emilyslutface @mmunson86 @josephquinnsfreckles @eddiesxangel @elegantkoalapaper * @str4ngergirlw0rld * @corrodedcoffincumslut @nailbatanddungeon @crybabyddl @zenathebeautiful @astela17 @taintedcigs @bettyfrommars @munsonsuccubus @munson-blurbs @hollandweather @serasvictoria @steviesgrl @curiositydooropened @ashyyboyy @urlbitchin @sllooney @lame0o @ali-r3n @bangaveragewhitewine @b-irock @enam3l @luxaeterna13 @manda-panda-monium @elthreetimes @joejoequinnquinn

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson fanfic #honey i’m home #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #stranger things

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mexicanpadfoot · 5 months ago

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2024 Fanfic Journal

I tried, gimme a star sticker please ⭐️

Last year was fun because not only I joined the Marauders fandom and stopped experiencing happiness, I also tried my hand at being a ✨thoughtful journaling girlie✨ which obviously didn’t last long lol. But regardless of my lack of artistic skills, I sorta finished my calendar overview!

These are not all the fics I read, they’re only the long-ish ones (over 40k I believe) that could count as a book if someone asked me why I spend four hours a day reading. I read the fantabulous amount of 124 fics and books, mostly fics, during the year. Each square in the calendar represents a day, so I can recall how much I read that day.

Now for the Hall of Fame! 🪄

These fics are my personal crème de la crème that I either read or reread during 2024. I’ll go out on a limb and recommend every single one of them because they’re outstanding, pieces of literary perfection, holy scripture. Of course I just started out with the Marauders in 2024, but there’s also some S-tier Dramione in there. Here are the links, in no particular order because, how could I?

Chew me up but don’t spit me out by damagecontrol.jpg, Jegulus.

Stripper!Regulus and Sugar Daddy James? Latino James, who makes me feral? Black brothers angst? Gender discoveries, euphoria, found family, drama because of course, and also great smut? This fix was like if Nic waddled into my brain, wringed out the story I didn’t deserve but 1000% needed, and clicked post. Also the epilogue is in Jalisco, Mexico, where I’m from? Insane 20/10.

But what a way to go by R33sesPieces, Wolfstar.

I believe this is Crack treated seriously? ITS SO GOOD! Remus is a serial murderer, he marries nasty rich old dudes and offs them. His next target? Sirius Black, of course. Except Sirius totally knows and it turns him on? Murder attempts as foreplay should be added to the tags. It’s funny. It’s hot. It has idiots in love that are trying to kill each other. The side characters are up to no good either. It’s amazing. Also, Reese is a delight, their notes and answers to comments are so thoughtful and make me feel like I’m reading something my friend wrote.

Dear Your Holiness by MollyMaryMarie, Wolfstar, some Jily.

This fic gave me total Fleabag season 2 vibes. If that isn’t enough to sell you on it, Priest!Remus and Seductress-from-hell!Sirius should. The slow burn slow burns soooo good, there are discussions of religion, identity and doubt in a way that wrapped my little deconstructed from religion heart in a warm blanket, but it’s also half secret identity, half texting fic? It’s to die for!

Only the Brave by Solmussa, Jegulus, Wolfstar.

I don’t think I need to tell you about Only the Brave. It’s dark. It’s heart-wrenching. Regulus is a certified badass in this. James, as always, is a simp for that man. It has one of my favorite “Sirius finds out” in the whole universe. The characters feel like adults, like people, not just characters, you know? Incredible. I actively fight my tbr every day to go back in and reread.

Crimson Rivers by bizarrestars, Jegulus, Wolfstar, Dorlene.

I actually resisted reading this one for the longest time (five months is a long time, they said) because crossovers have never really been my thing. BOY WHAT A DISSERVICE. The Hunger Games is an amazing series and Harry Potter is not, but damn does Zar deliver. I really know my Hunger Games lore and still I was on the edge of my seat. I went through so much pain. It’s beautiful. Also, James with a knife kink? Hilarious.

Circle of the sphinx by SanguisDominia, Dramione.

A new pureblood terrorist group on the rise, a stuck Potions Mistress and teacher at Hogwarts Hermione, a secret society that protects its members identity with strange, obscure magic, vampires, grand balls and Hermione having to learn how to ride a broom? This consumed me for four days, I ignored all my other responsibilities. The reveals? The animagus secrets? That one murder omg iykyk?

BLOODY, SLUTTY AND PATHETIC by WhatMurdah, Dramione.

Holy shit this was hot. Bantery. Believable. Grown adult characters dealing with a shitty Marriage Law. But there’s also Black family magic going on, bribery, fuckery, Theodore Nott being a little shit, Neville being a badass Plant DaddyTM. It’s so fun, they even gaslight the press in this. 11/10.

Love and other historical accidents by PacificRimbaud, Dramione.

Time travel Regency(ish) AU! Wearing cravats! Pretending to be siblings! leeching off a poor old man Idiot 1 and Idiot 2 claim is their cousin! I ADORE the cousin with all my heart. Messing around with Time Turners! Scandalizing the ton! Broom racing! Petty Jealousy! Take your pick, it’s all done perfectly in this. I found it so dammingly endearing. I hold it close to my heart.

Divination for skeptics by OlivieBlake, Dramione, PottNott.

I’m a depressed bitch, humor isn’t usually my thing. This one made me CACKLE so much I had to get my inhaler. Best banter ever. Everyone is deranged in this. The PottNott is not what you’re expecting but also it’s exactly what you think you’ll get after reading a couple pages. Theo attempts to rob Gringotts just to get Harry’s attention. It has one of my favorite confession scenes ever.

Draco Malfoy and the Mortyfing Ordeal of Being in Love by isthisselfcare, Dramione.

Another classic I’ve reread so many times. Killer nuns, lycanthropy, toodling about the country side, human on mushroom violence. Also Brigitte got mainstream published? So proud of that girlie.

Final thoughts 🕺🏻

Im excited to do this again now that I’ve got an idea of what it actually entails, and now that I’ve read most of the very popular fics in the fandom. I’m having a blast reading smaller authors and discovering more amazing works. I’m delving into other fandoms also and reading WIPs with more hope and strength because damn it’s hard but also authors are the backbone of the community and they deserve to be hyped while they write, for free, for us!

This year I’ll be using erins_escapism ‘s fanfic tracker spreadsheet as well to document shorter fics I read as well. It’s incredibly well done, check them out on instagram if you’re curious!

I’d love any recs you’d like to share, specifically Drarry and wlw ships that are not Dorlene, for some reason I just don’t vibe with those two girlies. And if you see something too freaky no you didn’t, thank you very mucho.

Don’t like, don’t read, support creators, break a leg, you know the drill. I download most if not all of what I read so if you need help finding something or getting a file, send me a message :)

Love you, funny people on the internet that sometimes like what I post 🩷✨

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deliriousdesserts · 1 month ago

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Hush, hush, hush. (3) // A DoL Self Insert fic !!

Characters are from my own sideblog (Osnii the Indecent) and my two good friends' sideblogs, @kayasbookshelf and @nyx-obsidi. General TWs for a mature fic w smut scenes about DoL should be noted and taken seriously considering I will have fun with the explicit parts, hehe :3 characters will likely be referred to with nicknames at points, so check my sideblog's post on that if it's confusing. Anyway, i hope you enjoy chapter 3 if you choose to read lolol

Chapter 3: Kitty Kitty..

"A baby cat, she crawls toward the saucer, Full of thick, white joy, that prophesizes sweet, strong dreams for her. So she drinks till her stomach is full and swelling with the bounty of her luck. The pungent watering hole she once sipped at bubbles and boils at the sight, It shakes the earth with its rage, shattering the saucer, And the kitten, hungry on its journey back to the broken vessel, Pieces the shards, hoping and praying fervently that milk would flourish in its bowl, So it may fill its starving maw with its sweet dreams once more."

“One.. two.. three.. four.. Hmm, I could swear I put something else in here too..” she mutters below her breath, checking the now emptied cart.

“Is it this?” The cashier tiredly holds up a 2d keychain of a cat whose cartoonish face was contorted with the sort of feral anger that children found funny. Its fur stood on end and its eyes were pointed and completely red, to add that extra layer of silliness.

It reminded her of the person she bought it for. Though, she’s not sure if she actually has the gall to give it to him.

Kaya smiles as she pays, “Thank you, I’m getting a bit blinder these days..”

The cashier quietly packs the things she’d gotten, stuffing it in a plastic bag and handing it over with a very unenthused, “Thank you for your time at the Dollar Steals, come again.”

She happily skips out of the shop with the bag in her hands. Buying things for people felt so good, especially when her internalized thoughts of this person would love this but I don’t have enough for it was finally put to rest. She looks through the bag, just to reaffirm her joy, and sure enough, she’s beaming at the three gag shirts she got for herself, Nyx, and Osnii. She can’t wait to stuff them in these for a sleepover.

Then there was the bookmark she’d gotten for Sydney, and.. the keychain.

“Should I have gotten this..”

The thought is silent when it hesitantly comes out. She rubs a thumb over the sheen of the keychain, and it curls up a tad, revealing a shinier surface beneath. Shoot, was he going to chew her out if he notices it’s already been a bit opened up? No, was he going to let her live it down if she gave him something?

Kaya doesn’t know what to feel about Whitney anymore. When the semester started, hell, the last few years itself were just him bugging, teasing, groping, assaulting her.. If anything Nyx and Osnii warned her about even seeped in a bit, she wouldn’t be buying a stupid silly keychain for her tormentor. The trope of studious characters who have no self respect was something she despised in books yet here she was, acting like a cliché!

Her grip on the keychain tightens but then almost as quickly calms, why would she get mad at this angry little kitty when she could just as easily channel that anger into the next time she has to choke on his dick? Yeah, why.. why would she even give this to him? Maybe it’d pacify him.

Maybe.. he’d think she became an admirer of hers, someone who distantly watched as he assaulted whoever whenever and romanticized it. But in this case, she was the person being assaulted, and she.. she would be the person to romanticize her own assault.

She needs to hide the evidence of this ever existing from those two. Luckily, she hadn’t encountered them all day. Maybe that coffee really did a number on her brain because she dodged and evaded their every slight presence, even choosing to eat in the library with Sydney.. which he did scold her a good deal for, but it’s alright.

As she walks home, a long one since Domus was quite a ways away from Connodatus, she watches the cars pass by her. Some flying, some crawling, some swerving and getting yells from the pedestrians.. What a quaint little city. She could almost forget the fact that-

Splash!

-this was Rapechester. The city where she can’t let her guard down else she’ll be raped or, even worse, she’ll be thrown a cum balloon at.

Maybe.. Maybe it was time to consider those dance lessons that Osnii was raving about a few months ago. It’d help her get better on her feet, something she’s terrible at currently, evident by the few scrapes on her knees from when Whitney tripped her up and the sopping, thick white mess that has stained her lovely pink top. She had dressed nice to go out shopping, just as a treat, and this was how it repaid her.. at least it was Osnii’s turn to do laundry this week. She’s more than receptive to cleaning off jizz from their clothes when they don’t want to.

It did make her feel a tad guilty but she’ll have to put that aside. She didn’t feel like touching more spunk than she needed to.

“I’m home..” She enters the room, expecting a long, tight hug from Osnii, but no dice.

Instead, there’s Nyx sitting on the bed, staring at her with those suspicious eyes. Even with her arms stuffed in the pocket-holes of her hoodie, she looked like she was sternly crossing her arms and judging her very being. She must’ve caught on.

“Hi, Nick,” Kaya sweetly smiled, setting the bag on her bed and sorting out the shirts and whatnot, making sure to hide the bookmark between the folds of one of them, “You seen Ozzy lately? She’s so hard to come by, nowadays.”

“Says you,” Nyx huffs and gets up, coming behind Kaya just to pull her into a tight hug, her face buried between those fluffy white ears.

“I got to cuddle with Oz last night. I haven’t even caught a glimpse of you in like, days.”

She’s not sure what she expected from Nyx. There’s times where she’ll forget how clingy she is. And yet, Kaya can’t help but smile dorkily.

“Well, you’re catching one of me now, so..”

“..Listen, I know what kind of job you did,” Nyx admits, a bit strained, “I don’t judge you for it. Just.. you can lean on me. You can lean on us.”

“Yeah but..” Kaya turns in her arms and wiggles her fingers toward Nyx, warding her off with the awful promise of a tickle attack, “Leaning on both of you doesn’t really help in getting you guys gifts, now does it?”

“Ufh..” Nyx pouts and backs off, walking backward to get on her bed, leaning her back against the wall. She looked especially tired today.

“..When do you think she’s coming around again?” Kaya asks softly as she opens up one of the shirts, the graphic reading out Watch out, I’m hot!

“I dunno,” Nyx responds almost absentmindedly, taking her phone out and busying herself with it.

“It’s an important question, Nick,” Kaya purses her lower lip, pleading, “she’s not making you keep anything from me, right?”

“..Oz’s out for a few days.”

“She’s what?!” Kaya yells, and in an instant, Nyx is pressed against her back, hand over her mouth and glare narrowed and focused on her.

“And you wonder why we keep things from you sometimes..” she sighs before quickly adding, “she says if you scold her, she’s not doing laundry this week for me, so please, for the love of god, leave her be.”

“Oh, so you can be worried about me, but I can’t be worried about her?” Kaya bites out and shrugs her off before shaking her head, “Seriously, how many times do I have to tell you that she isn’t some invincible sex and money-making machine? If you treat her like that then-“

“-She’ll treat herself like that, yes, yes, I know, gods..” Nyx runs a hand through her hair and huffs, “whatever. Not a word to her, okay?”

“..And those gag shirts look cute. I’m sure she’ll like them. Just keep hers opened on her bed this Thursday night.”

With an exasperated breath, she goes over to Osnii’s neatly made bed, only so neat because she’s apparently gone for a few days. “I’ll just do it now. It’s not like she’ll come home early.”

Trembling fingers pull apart the shirt, and the heat transfer printed text sticks and comes undone slightly. She spreads it out on the empty bed and makes her way back to the plastic bag, sorting out the rest.

Kaya wishes the two of her friends would treat themselves with a bit more care. If they don’t, then she sure as hell would for them.

It's hazy around Nyx. A thick fog that she’s never encountered, even in the Moor where she’ll sneak off to escape Kaya’s extremely rare conniptions. It smells of human salt and it wafts around her like a weighted touch. It’s a puzzling sensation she’s never felt before.

She’s knocked to her back by the fog, onto the ground. She doesn’t know whether it’s a cozy surface but it’s sticky, smooth and soft. It takes shape, tangible hands formed of unfamiliar warmth that part her legs with difficulty. But it’s like she can’t fight back against these lewd limbs that aren’t attached to a head.. but still, they seem to have one thing and only one thing in their mind.

“Nyx..”

She knows it doesn’t have a mouth. There’s nothing that she can visibly see speaking.

Was she hallucinating? No, what was this whole situation? She knows she’s never even seen such a strange place, somewhere that phased in and out of looking like her perfectly normal and comfortable bedroom, and the old churchyard where she and her bandmates would smoke up a few blunts, and.. a mansion she’s never seen before.

The ghostly fingers brush against her panties, eliciting a curl in her spine. It rubbed right against her clit, something that surprised her so badly that one of her legs staggered into the air out of shock. Yet it seems like this entity, these wandering hands wanted to venture further.

She can’t feel a barrier the next time it brushes against her most sensitive parts.

Ugh, she can’t even move herself. She’s paralyzed. She’s stuck to the ground. She’s pulled there by some force, something that doesn’t seem to be working against her in some odd way. But she was to get up, to check the situation between her thighs, to-

Oh fucking gods. What was this fog-built hand doing, dragging a finger in her? Was this even hygienic? Fuck, Osnii would tease her to the hot hells if she got a yeast infection before she got laid first. She tries, despite her body’s comforting hold over her, to struggle, but it seems this shift in her has alerted the hands.

They’re warm and wrapped around her wrists, pinning them above her head. She notes that they barely wrap around her wrists, they’re small yet incredibly forceful. And as she looks onward, there’s nothing.

She feels something though. Something incredibly hot, wet and lithe. It parts her minor labia in a pathetic attempt, it’s clearly too small to really splay in such a large way. Yet the fact that it’s so small may give it some leverage against her because it’s awfully quick with its trips around her clit.

It's laving attention on her, in an unbearably thorough manner as if it wanted to taste her forever.

“Oh Nyx..”

This time, she can pay attention to the voice. Shaky, soft, and husky, almost reverent with how it moans her name. It also sounded like it had a lot to handle with its mouth already, and now she can imagine what appendage of this mysterious fog thing is eating her out at the moment.

It gets eager. Sucking and licking a bit faster, she can feel herself grow uncomfortable, an odd tension building in the bottom of her spine and at the pit of her stomach. She’d be lying if the latter didn’t feel somewhat good from this heat. She found herself shaking, her thighs trembling and her voice finally choking out of her.

“A- Angh..”

The noise seems to spur this being of fog and lust on, it gets ruthless with how it laves its tongue over her and how it gets more impatient with sucking her clit. She wants to yell and scream at it to not kiss and suckle on that bundle of nerves because whenever it does so, she elicits a sound so high pitched that her bandmates would absolutely make fun of her if they heard it. They’d make her the vocalist in an instant and the idea of singing at the center while they cackled at her was not appealing.

“Oh gods!”

That was new. Has she ever called out for the gods without adding an actual expletive before it? Whatever that odd moan was, the Moor Mouth, as she’ll call it, shows its appreciation for the show she’s putting on for it. Its small, warm and wet hands leave her wrists, which don’t have much interest in defying this now anyway, and they dig into her thighs.

She can feel it coil in her stomach like a warm knot that’s ready to tighten till it snaps and she’s chasing that high just as much as this unseeable entity is.

All at once, it raises her hips, and the change in angle along with the fervent kisses to her clit has her tumbling off the ledge so hard she feels the inside of her thighs grow wet and warm with a liquidy feeling.

And whatever was between her thighs takes her newly limp and shaking body as a sign to clean her off with its tongue. It’s so enthusiastic too, she swears she feels kisses over her mound and thighs, but maybe she’s delirious.

Delirious. Where the fuck was she, actually? She asked herself this but the feeling of this vague being going down on her distracted her so badly that she completely forgot that this place..

..It wasn’t real. As she digs her fingers into her palm, she wakes up.

“Ufh.. uh.. ahh..”

“...”

It's not too dark outside. Actually, scratch that, it is fucking dark as hell outside, Kaya’s light at her desk is the only thing that made her think it wasn’t actually night time.

“..Are you okay?” The bunny girl asks from her desk, one hand gently pulling the brightness toggle a bit more so that she could see Nyx’s face.

“I think.. I just.. had a wet dream.”

And like a dad who’s left alone with his teenage daughter who tells him she’s having her first period, Kaya gapes at her with absolutely no words for a few seconds before getting up and fussing over her with absolutely no idea what she should be doing.

The puddle in her bedsheets below her ass were evidence of an orgasm, and according to the apparently useful gibberish that Osnii said during lunch periods, it was an extremely good one since it seems she.. squirted.

“Oh gods, oh gods, I.. Fuck, Osnii should’ve been here..!” She rushes around, rummaging through drawers for tissues.

Nyx can only really remember Kaya fussing over her before her thoughts fizzle out and her eyes dilate, fixating on a specific detail.

Red, crescent shaped marks dug into her thighs, near her torn up panties.

Kaya’s spacing out for the first time in forever.

It's not like Doren’s bad at teaching English. Quite the opposite, she thinks he’s a lovely English teacher, but she’s focused on his hands as he waves them around in the air while speaking about the love between two characters in the drama they were reading an excerpt of.

Hands were all she could think about after Nyx told her all about her wet dream to her on the way to school. She usually went with Robin but considering how shaken her usually unbothered roomie was, she couldn’t help but hear her out. Now, the Moor Mouth was all she could think about. The name was funny and the concept was stupid.

Her eyes drag up to his mouth. It was gruff, his lower lip scarred with a notch, and his three o’clock shadow darkened the area around it.

No, stop it. Oh my god. Is she seriously looking at Mr. Doren, her lovely English teacher, in this.. this way? Maybe this was the price of doing a bit of sex work. Now it’s all she can think about.

It's fine. The money’s worth whatever little corruption it did to her. Her morals would be fine. She’d be okay.

In the corner of her eyes, as she’s comforting herself, she notices Whitney staring. She really hadn’t expected him to be in an English class of all of them, but considering it gave her an opportunity to hand over the little trinket she’d bought.. for.. him.. God, it still felt odd to acknowledge.

Had she actually grown attached to him? Maybe she needs to see Harper. Osnii says mostly good things about him.

“..Hey, Whitney,” she murmurs softly, looking over at him in small glances as if she was scared to stare at him for even more time than she was allotted in his head. He pays attention though, blinking and raising his brows.

“Yeah, slut?”

The nickname sent a prong of warmth into her abdomen. It was so shameful to admit to herself, the fact that she had actually slowly grown to like what degradation he threw at her. She started rationalizing recently that it was just because he’s giving her a dose of something the people around her normally wouldn’t. He’s the only person she sees on a semi-regular basis that would do this to her. It was enticing in the worst possible way.

“If- If I give you something..” She looks away, too ashamed to even finish.

“Come on. I don’t feel like getting detention for snapping your neck toward me, dumbass. Look at me.”

She forces it out anyway, turning her head back to glance at him. Her eyes screw shut as she quickly drops the gift-wrapped item onto his desk.

“..Throw it out if it doesn’t matter.”

It's weird. She thinks he would’ve responded at this point. No, he’s quiet. Every book’s few pages before the third act plot twist seems to have taught her a thing about the calm before the storm, because if there was one thing she wouldn’t do, it was trusting the little peace Whitney gave her. She heard the audible sound of the wrapping tearing, so he must’ve discovered it.

When the period’s done and over with, she’s out of there, her heart pounding a mile per second, and her legs flying her toward the lunch hall. She wants to see Nyx and Osnii’s faces, to tell them all about this stupid choice she made, but she notices that neither of them is there. She knows about the latter’s situation but what of Nyx? Did she go on a hunt for the Moor Mouth or something? The thought made her chuckle to herself as she set her bag down at an empty table.

She goes off to get her lunch from the canteen counters and once she’s back with a decent amount of sausage and mash and, begrudgingly, a packet of orange juice. The kind lunch lady gave it to her for free and she wasn’t going to decline it. Maybe she’ll pass this off to Whitney too, try and pacify him a bit more.

..Although she doesn’t even know if that previous attempt worked at all.

As she sits down and has her first few bites of lunch, she notes a looming shadow that gets increasingly bigger as the seconds pass. Her instincts kick in and she whips her head around. Whatever the LED light in the cafeteria had against her that day came to a peak as it strongly glinted off of this person’s piercings.

She knows the scent, she doesn’t need to lie to herself that there’s another person who has that many eye-blinding piercings. She rubs her eye and murmurs, “..yes, Whitney?”

“Stuff your face and get to the back in five minutes.”

It was an order and she knows how he gets with orders if she defies them. When that shadow moves across the hall, she dissects the look on his face as she shovels the rest of her food down her gullet. It was lost, conflicted and a bit confused. His eyes were uncharacteristically unsure. Even his tone seemed an inch less confident than usual.

“The mash was great today,” Kaya smiles at the lunch lady, setting her empty tray in the bin of trays, half eaten or mostly wiped. The lunch lady waves her off and she feels a bit warm. It was nice to have atleast one kind person’s attention that afternoon.

She puts her bag in her locker and checks the time. Her stomach was a bit tossed from having eaten that quickly but if she ran, she could reach in a minute.

“Whitney-!” She calls out as she comes to a halt in her sprint down the halls and to the back of the storage shed. She hunches over and sets her hands on her knees, breathing hard. For a few seconds, all she can hear is her heartbeat thundering in her head.

But his voice finally comes through.

“You,” He grabs her collar and pushes her up against the wall of the shed. The overgrown vines and foliage is a welcome softness against her back.

“How come you whine and plead about money every single fucking day when I try getting a twenty from you, and all of a sudden, you spend? Not even just that-“ He wags the keychain in front of her face, “It’s not a new bag to replace your beat up dirty one, or stationery, it’s a fucking keychain for me. Of all people.”

He shoves the keychain in his pocket and narrows his eyes, slamming his hands to the walls near the sides of her head.

“Talk. And if you try to brush it off, I know for a fucking fact you gave that nerd in the library a bookmark today too. Pixie was bragging about gifts that you got her and that slut.”

“Don’t call her Pixie.. and don’t call Ozzy a slut, she’s..” Kaya chews her lip. It was much harder to answer the first part of his words than rebuke against how he talked about her friends.

At the mention of Sydney, she remembers something odd. He asked her about Osnii. Not just that, he called her a lecher, a.. sinner? ..She guesses she’ll ask Osnii about it when she catches her next.

“If you want me to change that up,” He snarls, “You better fucking talk.”

“..I got a bonus at the place I-“

His words come out as an angry growl, and she wants to laugh a bit at it but with the way his eyes are set on her, it’s like he’s intent on doing anything for answers.

“I’m not playing a game of lies with you. You know how to fucking admit the truth.”

His hands grab at her, splayed and dug into the back of her thighs before he turns her quickly. She’s so dizzy from the sudden turn she could puke, but it seems like he has no intention to use her mouth today for some god-forgiven reason, so she’s saved.

Or not. She feels his hard, throbbing cock slip between her thighs and she lets out a soft, shaky breath of surprise when he grinds against her simple panties.

“I- I got money from- a- a guy-!” She hesitates in every second of her admitting but once it’s out, she knows it’s not enough. He grinds harder and she finds some silencing comfort in the vines in front of her.

“Specific, whore.”

“He’s-“ her grasp on the vines tighten to the point where they break off and she nearly slips, but his rugged hand keeps her up.

“Clumsy fuck.”

..Was she being delusional or was he a bit softer with how he manhandled her?

“I- I just- got money from him f- for.. doing stuff like this for him..!” She staggers, her hands trying to find any remaining growth to grip and tear at.

“..You have a sugar daddy.”

“W- What?” A sharp slap to her ass and she nearly yells, if it weren’t for how many times she’s had to experience Whitney’s frustrations, they would’ve been caught then and there, but she bites on her lip. The sharp pain on both her asscheek and her bottom lip has her reeling and panting.

“Of course you couldn’t make money in a normal fucking way,” He grits out, precum and sweat letting the slip and pull of his cock go faster, “Of course you had to whore yourself out you..”

Something in her, the strings of self-respect and confidence that upheld her everyday to face the world around, snapped. She pulls away from him and holds herself, her hands on her upper arms as she shakes and quivers. Whitney stands there, zipping his pants up as he watches her rush away.

“..Fuck,” he grunts and runs a hand through his hair, looking aside. His other hand stuffs into his pocket and rubs the keychain in his pocket.

But she’s too far gone to notice this semblance of regret. She runs to her locker, grabbing her bag and going to the infirmary to submit a leave on the grounds of distress. They grant it to her quickly at the sight of her nearly bursting with tears.

For all she’d gone through to get these gifts, she hadn’t expected the reality of how she got that money to affect her so badly.

Nyx took the bus home that day. She typically would be at her band practice at this time, but she heard from this tan short kid with messy black hair that Kaya had gone home early, during lunch specifically. She thanked this boy and promised to treat him since catching Kaya’s breakdowns was rare.

That made it seem like she considered her friend a zoo exhibit, but that wasn’t the case. It was rare to catch it this early, so it can be handled before it blew up even more. Though she’s a little upset Osnii isn’t around because Nyx isn’t the very best at comforting.

She was also a little glad because her thighs were way too weak to run all the way home.

“Kaya-!” She sets her bag down on the bed as soon as she’s in their room and rushes in for a hug. Kaya holds her back with the same amount of need.

“Nyx..” She sobs into her shoulder and mumbles a whole lot that Nyx can’t understand. But she’ll try.

She’ll try to understand. She can’t lose her. Not when she could step in somehow.

yes nyx got head :3 if youre still confused, it was not a dream !!

#degrees of lewdity #degrees of lewdity fanfic #dol fic #dol pc kaya #kaya the studious #dol pc osnii #osnii the indecent #dol pc nyx #nyx the delinquent #dol sydney #sydney the faithful #dol whitney #whitney the bully #dol kylar #kylar the loner #kylar is not mentioned by name in this chapter but it is VERY important for you to know that he IS in this HE IS DOING ALOT #oc x canon #dol smut #dol itself is a warning

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welcome-to-the-end-of-eras · 2 years ago

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Live Reading: The Salt Miracles

I am only doing this for The Salt Miracles and not the other stories in The Winter Spirits because it's too much effort and I'm already going insane. I'm also going in 100% blind, I have absolutely no idea what it's about or whose perspective it's following, but my lord am I nervous.

I haven't even started yet but I just realised I've been calling it The Salt Mines by accident and put it in a twitter post oops-

OOO IT'S SOMEONE NEW

I STILL HAVEN'T STARTED READING YET BUT I SAW THEM REFERENCE A PRIEST AND NOW I'M GOING INSANE I NEED TO BE SEDATED

I'm chewing on glass and gnawing at the bars of my fucking enclosure

This (not) reading is more indicative of my mental illness than my actual diagnoses

If St Hilda is a fucking asylum I'm going to commit several crimes

I already love Mhairi she's so fun

Wait why is it changing to another dude Mhairi was fun :((( ik I'll probably like Flint but Mhairi is cool and I want her to write a proper female mc for once

Wait wait wait if the salt is pink it's probably Himilayan, and that along with Russia was where Mori said there was a weird no-clairvoyance zone thing so ??? I'm going to lose my marbles

Ohh nvm it's algae, that would've been cool

Okay Flint is also a priest, we have two priests now

"... I've been, you know, head first in a bucket the whole way" yeah okay this is a Pulley protag and I love him

" 'A whole...Christmas selection?' 'Nuts' " that may just become my new Twitter bio (probably not I like my Glass Onion reference too much)

He has a portable camera so this is probably taking place in like the twenties, but Kodak as a company was founded literally the same time tlfop was happening which is funny

Motherfucker are we getting animal-human hybrids???

I like fog as a metaphor, especially in tlfop, so I will probably write out something about it later

"...beehives, or cairns (graves)" this sounds like when Mori threatened Ito's wife who was allergic to bees

Why tf are there pilgrims??? Ik they're not like the Mayflower types of pilgrims, but what kind of religious journey thing are they doing???

I also want to write about the complete lack of respect for government officials and just general authority from the pulleyverse protags bc none of them have any fucks to give about authority figures

"...in his unofficial capacity as the bishop's shoulder-angel" PLS-

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was mentioned and now I'm 1.) thinking about tlfop again, and 2.) am fairly certain that this story takes place not far from the events of tlfop, because the first Sherlock Holmes book was published in 1887 and he references them as being "new:

"...now the bishop didn't believe in miracles"

"I'll be Eve in a cider factory" tbh I don't understand what that means too well rn but I love it regardless (ik Eve bit the apple and all that jazz I just can't wrap my brain around the metaphor please don't explain the Bible to me)

I auto-filled an Irish accent for Kerryn in my brain so when he called Flint "Father Kang" I thought he meant "King" for a minute

Okay so it starts December 18th, which is also the date that Mori said he would come back to Japan if I'm not mistaken??? (Edit: I WAS RIGHT AND I FEEL LIKE GOD)

But I must be slightly off because X-rays weren't invented until 1895 :(((

Also I know Kerryn is probably the secondary lead but there's something off about him I don't like, I can't put my finger on it

Either Ms. Pulley messed up her math or I don't know what an advent calendar is, because I was under the impression this was in December, so how tf has Rosemary been on the island for 38 days if she's been there since September??? She would've had to have come in November for that to be true

Flint out here profiling people by name like his name isn't fucking Flint (I also definitely laughed and thought of Batman when I read Bruce's name for the first time)

I can't handle references to the winter king rn don't do this to me-

I stopped to make dinner because I'm hungry, I started at like 5:30 and it's now like 7:35 and I have some yummy pasta and pumpkin tea (I also had like 1.5 margaritas)

I can finally use my insanely eurocentric art history class notes to explain the imagery of what Flint describes in Ezekiel's angels; each of the four creature's heads is representative of the four apostles who wrote the bible, and that coupled with the biblically accurate angels coming down from on high are clear indicators of the second coming in art, meaning the previous priest was preaching the end of days to these people

I've always been such a sucker for Catholicism in gothic media, especially when it comes to imagery, so this all is right up my alley

THE O W L ? ? ?

"...the Almighty had forgotten about the United Kingdom" she's so fucking real for that

Honestly??? The Bishop sounds like he'd be a good love interest for Flint. Maybe it's because I don't like Kerryn that much even tho he's the standard choice, but the whole "hearing them talking to you in times of stress" thing is a fun thing I like with all the pulleyverse couples and it happened with the Bishop so. Hmm.

Fliny's whole color metaphor for logic + Thaniel's synesthesia sounds like another essay for me

The optimism of Flint and the pilgrims is really going to make the horror aspect of this all hit so hard I'm excited

On that note, I love how the stones that looked like beehives so readily became cairns as the tone got darker

My computer started updating as I was making this and I was so scared that I lost everything but thank fuck for tumblr drafts

Anyways those salt rocks are a grade A prime example of Chekov's gun if I've ever seen one

The rocks are fuckin BIRDS???

The fear of machinery is something we have seen in Pulley novels before, especially around this time period, but it's just making me think of the Mars House and how that would tie in

HIMB BABY BIRD I'M ABOUT TO CRY-

N O NOT THE BIRD :(((

That was fast

"The islanders didn't leave a hundred years ago. We're walking in them." this line goes so hard, especially because it includes the audience in the "we"

OOO altitude sickness, very Bedlam Stacks-core

The cloaked devil imagery and unforgotten knowledge description is giving very much Edgar Allen Poe and it's gorgeous

I cannot say I care at all about Kerryn becoming salt but damn was it a creepy twist

And the way she physically started crumbling??? Genuinely horrifying

It took this short story for me to realise that that scene in twofs where Mori is giving his side of the argument with the priest in the future where he actually did go to the wedding, he's arguing about the story of Lot, which likely was derivative of the story of Sodom and Gomorrah. Wonder why that would come up. Hmm. A mystery.

"He could taste it -- something electric." PLS I'M GOING NUTS-

What in the fucking Cthulu-

Oh Mhairi's back!!! Yay!!!

Alright maybe I spoke too soon with the whole Bishop and Flint thing

Wait it's not Flint??? I thought Bruce was Flint for a second

Oh f u c k dude that was HEAVY

That's so nuts

I literally do not have words what the fuck was that ending

It was really good and clever and fun but w o w

Ending thoughts: I genuinely have none, that was terrifying and beautiful and cool as FUCK, and I think if Ms. Pulley started pumping out only horror novels from now on I would be in full support. It's a really fuckin out of pocket move considering her previous works and even her last short story that had a relatively happy ending but my god it was good. 10/10, very creeped out. Also the sign at the end??? Knowing Flint probably wrote that out and put it around his own neck like a noose??? That's so fucking hardcore I can't believe it. Utterly amazed.

#natasha pulley #the watchmaker of filigree street #twofs #the lost future of pepperharrow #tlfop #the kingdoms #tk #the bedlam stacks #tbs #the half life of valery k #thlovk

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oceansprompts · 1 year ago

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marvel's midnight suns | misc quotes 5

But I guess Queens is not important enough for the news media to cover.

Sometimes I feel like I should be there with her…

Second… New York already had a hellmouth in Staten Island…

Yes, How do I stop my science-minded brain from melting into whimpering sludge?

I even knew a doctor that accidently turned himself into a vampire.

Why, because one of my ex-nemeses now lives in the same building…

Anyway, that’s not the only reason I’m on edge…

So, word on the street is that you just got a massive shipment of artisan sodas…

But that’s just it, what if that radioactive spider decided to chomp down on someone else’s behind…

Wow. The books in this place are something else…

I’m not asking you to pull any strings for me or anything like that…

So, you got a favorite genre of music we could put the tune to?

You said be the best I can be and I’m all for that…

So, I’m the guy who stops bag snatchers and ATM thieves…

So, are you one of the kids? Or the second oldest adult? I don’t know how to treat you.

I haven’t lived with people outside of family. Am I doing it wrong? Do I write an apology note, or… How do I fix this?

Here, I have access to two whole Super Hero teams, each with their own way of doing things. It’s eye-opening.

So what’s your preference? I heard you spent much of your life working solo…

So you’re an open book, huh?

Is that something you were striving for?

Did you ever go through a rebellious stage?

I used to be self-conscious of my appearance…

Do you have any desire to fly?

My reputation might be intimidating…

Unless you don’t have the desire to explore.

You don’t see me as hard to approach?

Uh… Thanks again for what you did for me…

We’ve been so busy. I haven’t processed what I did under their control…

The worst are the faces I don’t remember…

Then… Nothing. I’ve had that one on loop for days.

Hey, uh… You didn’t read it, did you?

I spent most of my childhood trying to measure up to that monster’s unattainable standards.

True, it’s just this place reminds me of the church…

No, he caught the bad guy like he always does…

I’m really starting to get used to this place…

Those heroes often do what is “right”, even if that means…

Oh, that’s my stomach. I think it’s time for a snack…

I–I think you misunderstand. The suit turns into my clothes…

Okay, so far. Kinda reminds me of summer camp, but…

It sounds dangerous and I like that…

Yeah. But it’s also distracting having someone chew your ear off…

I thought I smelled a weird doggy odor…

It’s essentially a substance used to make people into weapons.

We can’t all be born as unlucky as me.

I don’t get that feeling anymore, do you?

The map we have is pretty loose, but luckily, you’re gonna have me leading the way…

Yup, and we’re sorely lacking in the Hulk-killer department.

I hid Cap’s ‘America’s Number One Dad’ mug someplace he’ll never find it.

Man was I glad when indoor plumbing became a thing.

So, uh… Thanks for not leaving this old man behind.

Something softer, like Bob or Moonchild…

Or… maybe it’s the fact that I somehow managed to make a new friend.

Well so much for that. So… uh… What do you like to do for fun?

But spending time with you has given me complete utter faith…

The air always feels wrong here. Makes my hair stand on end.

No. You and me, doing this? Living weapons ain’t designed to relax. Can make a fella downright resentful.

Okay, I’m on sabbatical…

Don’t get in the habit of relaxing like this. Our enemies don’t take the day off.

I’ve seen how you are together…

When you run into someone you thought was gone for years…

#roleplay memes #rp sentence meme #sentence meme #sentence starters #roleplay

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driftingvoid-155 · 2 years ago

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((// ruin spoilers & tales of the pizza plex spoilers//))

Okay this little theory/ thought process kind of went off the rails into AU territory but again, it was fun thinking about and that’s all I’m here for. I’ve also never read the tales of the pizza plex books (currently working on it) so everything I know about the mimic in the books is second hand but I’m jumping in on this anyways.

Okay so,,

So in my experience, people always relate the creator of the mimic in the books (Edwin) to Henry and the son that was killed to Charlie. The mimic is said to be created around the 80s but what if it what William who was making it and not Henry? And the facility it was being created in was sister location? Apparently in the books Edwin was supposed to be creating a new line of robots for Fazbears which kind of sound what like William was supposed to be doing with the funtimes. So while Will was also making those, he created the mimic as well. The reason being, what if Liz dies first due to Circus Baby. Will is devastated but Evan even more so bc he used to play with his sister a lot. So Will creates the mimic in a sort of stand in for Liz and as something for Evan to play with in replacement of his sister. (Could also explain why Evan started being so scared of robots. Perhaps the thing started acting weird / off and it freaked him out. Perhaps he started to think it was the thing that killed Liz in order to replace her).

However, after Evan then died, like Edwin after his son passes, William gets angry and ends up trying to destroy the mimic by attacking it bc he can’t stand the reminder of two of his children that he lost. He closes down Circus Baby’s, leaving the mimic there along with all the others and he himself also disappears.

Flash forward, like in the plex book after Edwin disappeared, Fazbears starts wondering where their new animatronic line is. So they send workers down there to try and look for them. Workers who in the book get killed by the mimic but in game, are the technicians who get killed on the stages by the funtimes.

Perhaps the mimic wasn’t involved with the funtimes escape, but being down there, did observe them do it. Watched its counter part of Baby lure someone in to come ‘rescue’ them and decided to do the same all these years later. Also, what do we see the mimic doing in the ‘scooping’ ending? Combine a bunch of costumes together, sort of like in an Ennard fashion, to chase after Cassie (even if it’s not the canon ending it is a possible ending).

I think the mimic being first built to be a stand in for Liz perhaps would explain a lot of the circus baby stuff we still see around the plex (like the entire room in ruin just full of circus baby plushies). But then it could also be trying to copy William since that’s the last person it saw/ who actually created it (hence in a alternate ending, it becoming burntrap).

Overall I know the mimic in regards to actual fnaf lore is probably a separate entity if it’s own but just as I love the thought of the physical locations of Freddy’s all being stacked on top of each other, I love entertaining the idea of a creature made of Aftons guilt and despair which mimics mostly all members of the Afton family living under it. Something based on Liz, learned emotions from William, has habits from Evan (like how he held his plushy) and took inspiration from Mike’s actions (like how to escape).

Again, I just sort of let my brain run so don’t take anything here too seriously if at all. I’m 100% sure there’s plenty of contradictions and reasons this wouldn’t work but it’s just something I let my mind chew on for a moment.

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #my hcs #fnaf ruin #fnaf theory #willaim afton #fnaf mimic

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chernobylcatfish09 · 3 months ago

Note

I know you didn't say you wanted asks tonight, but I got some questions which you can answer(if you feel like it) [and i also just like asking you questions because you are very polite and answer all my foolish questions quite nicely :}]

What is misophonia?

You mentioned you live in the Bible Belt: Have any tips for getting through a situation like that? Specifically, if you have anything that might help someone in a strictly very Mormon household.

Does misophonia happen with cats as well, or just dogs?

How do I stay alive, and stay safe, as a trans boy?

Do you like to stargaze?

(I forgot if i asked but) What's your favorite season?

How do I make better friends? How do I cut off a friend who's being harmful to me?

(If you have siblings) Do you have any fun sibling stories?

Tell me about all the different things you make art about?

What kinds of books do you like to read? (if you are a reader)

Are you vegetarian? Or vegan? (I'm pescatarian)

Do you like zoo's? I heard you can sometimes book to stay overnight in a zoo!

Do you like mythology? If so, what kind!

What's you're favorite weather?

Are you tired of my questions? Do they annoy you or do you like them?

Could you make it as a farm-hand? (I love working on a farm)

What kinds of questions do you like to get?

I’m having a bit of trouble understand the questions, but I am happy to answer your questionnaires, they are super fun and I probably need to use my brain more, and tyyy

1. Misophonia is in short a disorder where some sounds, for example; mouth noises, chewing, licking, or dog noises, cause an irrational negative emotion

2. I unfortunately don’t have much advice, since my parents aren’t exactly the strictest, as I don’t have to attend church, but they are very much far right Christians, what I do is just follow along and agree to what they say, and just fawn, just to make them leave me alone about it, but I’m not sure how well it works for others

3. Besides licking noises from cats, I can very much stand and love to be around cats, so there’s only one noise crossover for misophonia triggers

4. Once again, I don’t know, because I am gender non conforming, and while I’m not androgynous atm, I can tend to be on the down low, and slip by just to survive. Once again, that’s just what I do personally and I know it isn’t the solution for everyone. I tend to fawn and just go along just to get out of making an even worse situation

5. Honestly, I don’t know the last time I have stargazed, but if I was with my friends I know I would love to do that

6. I would say winter, I get to wear my fave clothes (pjs, sweaters, hoodies) I love to see snow but hate to deal with ice, and I am not usually a sweaty bastard

7. I’m unsure how to make better friends irl, as I have gone to focus on myself more so, but I usually go for spaces that are about things I love or am interested in. As for cutting someone off, I think it’s better to just cold turkey and drop em like a fly, sometimes you have to be ruthless to protect yourself (granted I learned this lesson from epic the musical, it still is a good lesson)

8. I don’t have any siblings, but I have 2 cousins who are pretty much my siblings, and we used to go to a pretty awesome lake with a low water pass, we called it a low water bridge, and there was a jumping rock there, it was submerged in water but we had a shit ton of fun there

9. I usually draw my original characters and am trying to make stories for them, sometimes I draw myself but not too often, and I like drawing sort of Animal/human hybrids (usually more human looking with animal ears and tail) and I love to add details from that animal, like sneaky little details, god that’s one of my fave parts. I am not so good at backgrounds, and I need to work on that lol

10. I’m not much of a reader honestly, I prefer to listen to YouTube videos a lot, usually commentary, sometimes video essays, or if I’m in the mood for short form content, TikTok comps, but if I were to be a reader, it would probably be fantasy or horror, maybe a combo

11. I don’t have a special diet, I enjoy meat, veggies are great, love seafood even though I don’t have it too often, I do like to have some mini pretzels around me in case my stomach is a bit upset

12. I prefer Aquariums, it’s been years since I have been to a zoo, and I didn’t actually know you could book an overnight stay, that’s extremely cool

13. I adore mythology, my faves even though i don’t dig a lot into many are Greek mythology and Japanese mythology, mainly Yokai

14. Cloudy, rainy, or light storms

15. I really love these questions, honestly starting to look forward to answer them each night

16. I highly doubt I could, I’m pretty lazy, not to mention I have weak wrists, and my knee issues might get worse, in the hypothetical I would start at this age, although when I do move away, maybe they will get better, but unlikely

17. Any questions honestly, I can’t think of any questions I don’t like, well besides providing very personal info, but hell you could ask my deadname and I’d be fine with it (I think I have separated myself with my deadname to an extent, I consider my younger self to be the deadname, and the person I am now to be Norman/ Dusty)

I really do adore answering these questions it’s very fun for me, and sometimes I do have to think, which I need, I know I’m repeating but still, ✨

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lesbianjunimo · 4 years ago

Text

That time you and your demon boyfriend went viral

hi yes hello obey me fandom!! my name is Gabbi and i have never played a single second of the actual game but i have read enough fanon content for the past year to have this idea swimming around in my head and now i am finally letting this accursed thing out of my brain and putting it in yours

also i’m only doing the brothers because any more than that and i’d have an aneurysm probably. oh and shoutout to @obeythebutler and @beels-burger-babe for inspiring me with their works to feel brave enough to write for this fandom

Lucifer:

You and Lucifer go viral on Asmo’s Devilgram story!

You’re in the kitchen helping Asmo with dinner duty and singing along to one of your playlists of human realm music that you like to show him.

Asmo starts filming your cute little dance while you stir the pot on the stove because you are just adorable!

About ten seconds into him filming, Lucifer appears in the doorway with quite the stern look on his face. You know, the one that comes right before a “MAMMOOOOOON” and strikes fear into the heart of all those with functioning eardrums. That one.

He opens his mouth, presumably to tell y’all to shut the fuck up, but then there’s a lull in the music and the eldest can hear your voice ever so slightly above the song’s vocalist and he freezes.

Man stops in his tracks like someone just smacked him in the face with a midair volleyball.

Asmo can be heard stifling a laugh behind his phone.

Lucifer’s face gets so soft and he almost, almost, loosens his metal-rod-through-the-ass posture before you notice him and give a little wave and ask if you and Asmo were being too loud like the considerate darling you are.

Lucifer clears and his throat and says something like, “No, you aren’t. I was just coming to check on how dinner is coming along,” and leaves, after which Asmo immediately presses the post button.

Screenshots of Lucifer’s heart eyes for you go absolutely viral because every demon on Devilgram goes absolutely feral for seeing the eldest demon brother lose his dignified composure. It becomes a meme template. “Get you someone who looks at you like Lucifer looks at MC” and “me at the delivery demon when he shows up with my spicy bat wings” posts become commonplace. (Asmo thinks the memes are totally worth getting strung up with Mammon for laughing at them.)

Mammon:

Much like Lucifer, you and Mammon end up going viral off Asmo’s Devilgram. (Noticing a pattern here?)

He pulls a silly prank on your asses and honestly I don’t know how you fell for it. But hey, they say “idiots in love” for a reason, so...

You and Asmo are sitting in the common room of the House of Lamentation just chillin. Well, he’s chillin, you’re on the floor studying for an upcoming exam.

The video starts in the middle of a conversation you and the avatar of lust were having.

“No, Asmo,” you say. “Mammon and I don’t use pet names for each other.” Now that’s just a darn lie, and every demon and crow within ten miles of Mammon and you together knows it.

“Really? I find that very hard to believe, MC.~”

You sigh in response to Asmo’s teasing. “Okay, he has a lot for me but I’m just not much of a pet name person, y’know?” The rest of the exchange goes like this:

“Oh, I totally get it.” *pause* “Hey MC, what do human world bees make again?”

“Honey.”

Cue a sheepish Mammon sticking his head in the doorway at the bluntness of your tone when you answered Asmo.

“Yeah, babe?” he looks like a puppy left on the side of a highway oh my god hUG HIM-

Asmo turns the camera back to his smug ass face and in the background you can be heard tripping on the damn carpet trying to get up and hug your mans. (”MAMMON GET OVER HERE SO I CAN HUG YOU” “W-WHAT? I THOUGHT YA WERE MAD AT ME?!?!?!?!”)

Leviathan:

Streamer Levi? Streamer Levi.

You guys go viral the first time you make an appearance on one of Levi’s weekly (insert cool Devildom streaming service name here) streams.

It’s completely unintentional. You had been asking him for weeks to play with him on there, but he’s the avatar of envy after all. He doesn’t like sharing his partner, even if it’s with random strangers who have no real access to you.

However, he has his stream on a Thursday instead of a Friday one week, and you come into his room carrying dinner because 1) You didn’t realize he was streaming and 2) No matter what he was doing, the boy needed to eat. It wasn’t unusual for you to bring him dinner, so you had no idea why he was blushing and stammering even more than usual this time in particular. Boy was speaking in beached whale trying to tell you what was wrong.

Then you notice his screen. Oh! “Hi chat!” You wave, setting Levi’s food down on his desk in front of his keyboard. “M-MC!” He full-on whines, slamming a hand over his mouth afterwards when he remembers his viewers could hear that.

Honestly, they’d meme the fuck out of him if it weren’t for the fact that they are FINALLY SEEING HIS HENRY!!! THE MYSTERIOUS MC!!!

Chat is bombarding you with questions while you make Levi eat dinner. And by make him eat dinner, I mean literally feeding this man forkfuls/spoonfuls while he games because you love how flustered he gets when you do that.

Does it impact his score? Absolutely. Does he care? Not really when you’re pampering him like that.

You start answering chat’s questions about you while he’s chewing so he can’t tell you to stop LMAO-

You’re a natural on stream. The VOD becomes the most popular on Levi’s account in a matter of hours and soon cute highlights compilations of you and him on that stream start making the rounds on Devildom Twitter.

Satan:

There was buildup to Satan going viral, similar to Levi in a way.

Satan does have a Devilgram, but it’s basically a white woman’s Instagram with added book reviews for variety. Unless you’re a reader his account is pretty boring: candles, books, fireplaces, and cats.

However, after you two started reading together fairly often he began posting pictures of your legs draped over his while you sat together. They’d always be captioned with vague ass pretentious literary criticism.

This goes on for months, and he gains a lot of (horny) followers after the leg pics start up. He doesn’t really get why but you both joke that it’s because you have some damn nice legs and I mean neither of you are complaining about the new following.

You two go viral when he finally shows your face, entirely by accident.

The post is a video, which is already strange for him and grabs attention. In it, you’re scoffing and reading an excerpt of a book, mocking its understanding of female anatomy.

“I’m quoting here, Satan: ‘her breasts bouncing around like giant pacmen.’ I’M SORRY?? THAT ISN’T HOW BOOBS WORK SIR. WHY ARE MEN ALLOWED TO WRITE?”

(fun fact that is a very real quote from a very real book I really read last month pls save me)

Originally the camera is focused on your body, with your head out of frame to protect your privacy, but your righteous anger made Satan laugh. Like, a real laugh. The one that makes you and everyone in earshot wonder if he truly was never an angel cause he sure as hell laughs like one but anyway-

When he threw his head back, his DDD angled up just a tad without him noticing, and your face was in view for like .2 seconds. Screenshots of it are making the rounds on Devilgram almost immediately: FINALLY THE LEGS’ OWNER HAS BEEN FOUND.

Satan apologizes profusely but you honestly find it funny and you two opt to just start taking selfies while reading with both of your faces in them from now on.

Asmodeus:

I’m gonna be real with you: you and Asmo go viral all the time. Pretty much everything Asmo posts can be considered viral because of his social media following and his status as one of the seven avatars of sin.

However, there are some fairly cute highlights to be pointed out among the times you were both featured in a post that blew up.

Your favorite is probably that time Asmo livestreamed on of you guys’ ‘Nail Nites,’ as you call them.

You’re both on the floor, doing your nails and kicking your feet back and forth while talking to chat. A lot of the questions are about your relationship, and there’s a lot of flirting back and forth between the two of you.

A particular clip of the stream does blow the fuck up on Devilgram, though, when someone screen records it and posts it with a bunch of heart emojis edited over it.

“’What colors do you think best describe each other?’ Ooo, that’s a good one, chat!” Asmo claps his hands together excitedly, making sure to be careful of his nails.

Pretty much everyone expected you to say pink, but you surprised both your boyfriend and your viewers when, after a pensive few moments, you replied with “Hmm...probably yellow or orange.”

“Can I ask why, darling?” Asmo tilts his head in confusion. I mean, yeah, those colors look good on him, but he doesn’t wear them often so he’s wondering about your thought process.

“Well, in the human world those colors often represent happiness, optimism, and positivity. You’re always the cheerful presence I need in my life when things get hard, so you have the vibe of those colors.”

Asmo proceeds to burst into tears and hug you, messing up both of your nails and prolonging the stream since you both have to start over. But neither of you particularly care.

Fun fact: Asmo has the clip that demon made of that portion of the stream saved on his DDD and watches it whenever he feels sad.

Beelzebub:

Beel and you probably go the most viral out of everybody. Like this moment is an entire phenomenon across the Devildom internet.

It’s a video, or well, multiple videos, taken at the end of a Fangol game that Beel’s team had just won. Everyone is cheering and going crazy, yourself included, and you just really wanted to congratulate your boyfriend.

So, like the rational person you are, you elect to climb up onto the railing of the bleachers and wave to get his attention.

You were absolutely fine up there, and sat all comfortably motioning Beel over to you. He notices, of course, and jogs over, standing right beneath you and looking up. (Back where you were sitting, Mammon is screeching like a hyena in heat and Belphie, who is laying down, has one eye open to glare at him. The youngest knows Beel would never let you hurt yourself; you’re fine.)

A bunch of assorted demons at the game has started filming while you were sat atop the railing since you were rather noticeable. Therefore, there’s a shit ton of different angles of the adorable events that follow:

You slide off the railing, landing right in Beel’s waiting arms bridal style. You’ve got this brilliant smile on your face as you pull his helmet off. None of the DDDs filming can hear it over the crowd noise, but Beel asks you why you just went through all that trouble and you tell him it’s because you wanted to tell him how proud you are.

Soft boy’s chest puffs up and he smiles this big cheesy smile at you reach up to run a hand through his hair. You feel him practically purr at the contact, and with a laugh you pull him in and plant a big ole smooch on him.

The crowd, at least those of them that can see, scream. Everyone is running high on adrenaline and happy emotions; something that cute causes a ruckus!! When you pull away Beel proceeds to put you on his shoulders and you celebrate with him and the rest of his team.

The videos of you two being adorable go completely viral and there are some threads dedicated to stockpiling every single angle taken of the event. Beel is completely oblivious to the attention but you have a lot of them saved on your DDD.

Belphegor:

If you think Belphegor has any sort of social media presence whatsoever then you are sorely mistaken. (Well okay he actually does run some anonymous troll accounts to meme on Lucifer’s posts but that’s neither here nor there-)

Therefore, naturally, you two go viral off of Asmo’s Devilgram.

Okay so someone in the obey me tag the other say headcanoned that Belphie will go out of his way to nap in ridiculous places and my brain really took that and RAN WITH IT.

So what happens is that Belphie will fall asleep in the fucking weirdest places. I’m talking on top of the fridge, underneath the dinner table, on top of bookshelves...you name it, he has slept there, no matter the effort it takes to get there in the first place.

And, ever since you two started dating, you would join him. Sometimes it involved putting yourself at risk of great bodily harm, but the little smile he gave when you he saw you fucking scaling the countertop to reach him made it worth it.

So anyway, since Beel adores the both of you to no end, he takes pictures whenever he sees you two napping together, whether or not it is in a crazy place. He sends these to the family group chat because he thinks they’re adorable.

Over a span of weeks to months, Asmo has built up a stock of images of you and Belphie cuddles up in seemingly impossible places. Once he has about ten or so, he posts a compilation of them to his Devilgram with some cheesy ass caption like “The things we do for love <3″.

They become a meme SO QUICKLY. Like UNBELIEVABLY quickly.

The picture of you and Belphie sleeping on top of a bookshelf, in particular, is a big hit. Memes abound.

“If my girl doesn’t climb up a bookshelf to cuddle my ass, she don’t love me.” “Get yourself a partner who scales bookshelves just to be with your ass.” Etc etc...Belphie doesn’t give a shit but you laugh at a lot of them so he sees that as a good outcome.

#IM SO HAPPY TO HAVE FINALLY WRITTEN THIS #obey me #my writing #obey me headcanons #obey me x reader #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor #posts

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cherryyharryy · 4 years ago

Note

please write something about Harry overhearing the reader’s friend tell her that Harry doesn’t spend time with her that she deserves someone better they hang up b4 the reader can say anything like angst to fluff

Thank you for requesting!

This is 80's harry lol

WC: 2.4K

Harry pauses the music on his Walkman, slipping the headphones off his ears to rest around his neck while he fiddles with the key to his apartment.

She had spent the night—his angel. It had been quite the set up, since she still lives at home with her parents while finishing college, a little white lie was passed around to cover her absence. Harry wasn’t a secret by any means, but her parents weren’t the most open minded, and a small fib was easier to handle than trying to rehash the same discussion of y/n being a grown woman. It was hard enough for her to get their approval for college...one mountain at a time.

Harry’s ears burn as he sets the groceries down in the kitchen, the thought of her still tangled up in his sheets beckoning him back to his room, is enough to drive him wild. He doesn’t catch himself zoning out until the phone rings. He untangles his music off his shoulders and yanks the phone off the wall, but y/n has beat him to it, her soft morning voice greeting Caroline before Harry can utter a word.

His brain is too slow in making the connection that he should hang up. That he shouldn’t eavesdrop on his girlfriend’s private conversation. That he owes her the respect that her parents never give her. But he hears his name, specifically, he hears Caroline ask y/n how last night was, so the phone stays glued to his ear.

“Amazing,” she purrs, and Harry’s stomach flips. “We did it like, three times.”

The girls giggle, and Harry shuffles on his feet with a veiny blush spreading all over his body. He can imagine y/n draped in his sheets, phone cord wrapped around her fingers, just a few steps away from him

“Better be nothing short of amazing,” Caroline says, “with what little time he gives you anyway. Ugh, if Tony ever left me hanging as often as Harry, I’d dump him so fast.” She smacks her gum into the phone and Harry flinches. “He tried to ditch me one time to go see Scarface with Rob, and I was like, hell no, you’re taking me skating like you promised. Honestly y/n, you can do better. You’re surrounded by college boys, go find a future doctor.”

The phone almost slips from Harry’s hand, but he catches it and hangs it back on the wall, just in time for his entire world to start crumbling to his feet.

Did he really not spend enough time with y/n?

How long has this been a topic shared between them?

And why hasn’t she said anything before?

Harry stands in the middle of his kitchen, immobilized. He can’t lose her, especially not to something he can fix. She’s been his girl since they were sixteen, there’s too much history between them, or so he thought.

He files through the memories he has of them together, trying to quantify them, trying to see where he started slipping.

Maybe it’s when he took over his dad’s business? But she knew how demanding it would be, and always supported him. Or maybe it’s because they don’t go out as much? Between him managing an appliance store, and her working towards a bachelors, they often opt for nights on the couch watching SNL reruns.

His mind is foggy, and he doesn’t catch his bedroom door creaking open.

“H?”

Harry startles back to present, gripping the counter as y/n emerges from his room wearing nothing but his t-shirt.

“You okay? Look like a deer caught in headlights.”

“Mm, no, fine.”

“I heard you come in a bit ago.” She flicks her eyes over his kitchen, looking for the breakfast he had promised to make almost an hour ago.

“Didn’t want to be too loud.”

“Oh, alright.” She smiles, attempting to diffuse whatever awkward tension has settled in his home. “Well, cook away! I can help too.”

He grabs her wrist before she reaches the fridge. “No, I’ll make it for you. Go back to bed.”

“You sure?”

He nods, forcing a smile.

She peers back over her shoulder twice on her walk back to his room, hoping to figure out what’s going on, but learns nothing.

As soon as his door shuts, Harry flies around his kitchen, grabbing what he needs to make the fastest breakfast in the world.

He’s going to spend every free second he has with her, and doesn’t want to waste any if he doesn’t have to.

***

Harry knows he’s borderline annoying. And he knows his actions are beginning to appear creepy, if not bizarre. He tags along with y/n everywhere she goes now, even at the doctor where he almost followed her back to her exam. She gently placed her hands on his chest and told him that she would rather the doctor do the job, promising she’d be out in no time.

She’s been tiptoeing around him too, not sure what to make of his new routine of gluing himself to her side, hoping it will wear off and things will go back to normal.

But she waits and she waits, and normal never resurfaces.

“H, baby, I can’t concentrate with you so close to me.”

Harry looks offended, slipping his reading glasses off his nose and closing the book he was halfway through, giving her his full attention when he asks what she means.

Y/n peers around the library, not wanting to have this discussion so publicly, but too keyed up to wait any longer. “I’ve just noticed that you’ve...been a little clingy lately? More like a lot.”

“I just wanted to spend more time with you.”

“You’re picking me up, and walking me to my classes—”

“Thought that was nice?”

“You don’t even go to this school. Listen, the sentiment is nice, but I’m starting to feel a little suffocated.”

Harry bites his cheek so hard he draws blood. “And what did Caroline have to say about that?”

“What?”

“I’m sure that nosy friend of yours had a lot to say about me when you brought this up.”

“Excuse me!”

“Quiet, please,” one of the staff members shushes y/n, “Or I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Y/n ignores the snickers from a table of girls nearby, recoiling her embarrassment and turning it to anger. Her voice, although lowered, now drags out of her mouth in sharp tones. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I heard everything, that morning Caroline called my phone to talk to you about how crummy of a boyfriend I am.”

That morning, now a month ago, is hardly a memory in y/n’s head. She fights around for details of the conversation, but comes up empty handed. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about, and frankly, I don’t care.” She starts closing all her books and gathering her school work to shove into her bag.

“Where are you going?”

“Home.”

Harry blinks, fumbling for his next question as y/n hurries across the library. He’s quick to catch up with her, waiting until they’re outside where they don’t have to whisper. “Don’t walk, I have my car.”

He reaches for her shoulder but she shrugs it off. “I’m going home. My home, not yours.”

Harry freezes on the sidewalk. She continues on her way until she disappears around the building. A few students yell out at Harry, making fun of the guy who, from a distance, just got rejected. He flips them off and heads to his car, beating the steering wheel all the way back to his apartment.

***

“You’ve been studying an awful lot lately,” y/n’s dad comments from across the dinner table. “Do you have a big test coming up?”

“Hm?”

“You spend the night with Rayna almost every weekend.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. We have a lot of tests.” Y/n spoons a bite of mashed potatoes into her mouth, thankful neither of her parents went to college. It’s allowed for more stretched lies when she sleeps over at Harry’s. “Like a lot. Every week.”

Her mother hums from her seat, nodding to save her spot in the conversation while she finishes chewing. “We told you how hard it would be. But you wouldn’t listen.”

“That’s not—” “Shelly’s daughter just got a job as a receptionist, over at that dental office by the mattress store.” Her dad points at y/n with his fork. “You could ask her if she knows of any other places looking for a girl.”

“I’m not going to have a job where the requirement is girl.”

“You’re taking this too liberally, dear. Oh Lord, John, that school did just what you said.”

“No—”

“That’s what happens, girls go off to try and get a degree...and what for? What are you going to do when you get married and have kids?”

“Kids!?”

Her mom scoffs. “Well you’re not going to be able to raise children and work.”

“Are you two serious right now? It’s 1985, not fifty-five! Women go to college, they work, some of them don’t even get married! Or have kids!”

“When you were little you couldn’t wait to be a mom. Now all of a sudden you’ve changed your mind. That never would have happened if we hadn’t let you go off to that damn school.”

“Yes I’ve changed my mind! If it hadn’t been for that school, I never would have realized that it’s my own mind to change. It’s my own life to do whatever I want with, not yours.”

“Well I am—” Her dad is interrupted by the door bell echoing outside the kitchen. “One minute. We’re not done with this yet.”

Muffled voices stagger from the front door while y/n pushes the food around her plate. She hopes that whoever is at the door keeps her dad busy for a while. She knows her mom won’t have these types of conversations without him, which just showcases the lifestyle she is adamantly trying to avoid. One that was passed down to her parents, but y/n is determined to squeeze herself out of that narrative no matter what.

“Y/n!” her dad calls, “you have a visitor.”

Y/n peers up at her mom, both women exchanging confused glances before they go see who had arrived.

“Oh,” y/n says dully, “It’s you.”

Harry stands with his hands shoved into jacket pockets, peering at each family member before speaking. “Hey, uh, I was hoping we could talk. Privately.”

Y/n nods, and leads the way back through the kitchen to the back porch. She’s not really in the mood to be talking to him, or having this conversation, but right now he’s a free ticket away from her parents, so she accepts.

They sit halfway down the steps, just like they’ve done a thousand times before. Her on the right, him on the left. Usually his arm is thrown over her shoulder, and their knees bump together until Harry pulls her in so close that not even a breeze could fit between them, but now they’re both collected on their respective sides of the wooden step.

“Heard the new Prince song?”

Y/n rolls her eyes. “It’s been a week.”

“Exactly, a lot’s happened in a week. Prince came out with a new song, Michael Jordan’s rookie of the year, and there’s gonna be a Rocky four.”

“Did you come over to talk about everyone else’s good news?”

Harry sighs. “We’ve never gone a week without talking. Ever.”

“Well you really hurt my feelings.” She turns to look at him, tears welling up in her eyes. “I mean, you don’t even trust me, so you listen in on my phone calls—”

“That’s not—no. I picked up when you did.”

“But you still listened.”

“Okay yeah, but only because I heard my name.” He shrugs, a timid smile playing on his lips. “Wanted to hear what you thought about me.”

“I tell you what I think all the time. I’ve never kept my feelings secret from you.”

“It’s different.” He pulls his hands from his pockets and runs them through his hair, tugging on fistfuls of curls out of frustration. “But then when Caroline said all that, ‘bout me not spending enough time with you, it killed me.”

“That’s what this is about,” she sighs, more to herself than to Harry as the memory of that morning resurfaces in her mind. “You dork, what about what I said back?”

“I hung up. Didn’t wanna hear anything else after that.”

“I told her how wrong she was. How we spend lots of time together.”

“You did?”

“Mhm. She’s always bragging about her and Tony, like they’re the first two people to date ever. I totally rubbed our relationship in her face.”

Harry’s surprised by the gleam on his girlfriend’s face, and tries not to laugh. “What else did you tell her?”

“I dunno.” She shrugs, suddenly shy. “Can’t remember.”

“How convenient.” He nudges her knee with his, and she bumps him back.

Y/n exhales, dipping her head back to squint at the stars peeking out from a cloudy night. “My parents are driving me crazy.”

“They always drive you crazy.”

“Yeah but, more than usual. I got spoiled staying with you on the weekends.”

Harry hums, reaching his arm over to pull her into his side. “Maybe it shouldn’t just be weekends…”

“They would know something’s up if I stayed over on weeknights.”

“No, baby, I mean permanently.”

“Like moving in together?”

“Why not?”

She chews on her lip, trying to keep her smile hidden. “I don’t know...that’s a big deal. It’s a big step.”

“We can think about it. No rush.”

“It would be nice. To see each other whenever we wanted.”

Harry tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Wouldn’t have to ask your parents permission for anything.”

“Yeah…”

“Just me.”

“Hey!”

“I’m kidding, angel.” He kisses her forehead and takes her hand, helping her up.

Y/n’s parents are in the living room when the two are back in the house, and just the thought of continuing her evening here lights a fire under y/n.

“I’m going over to Harry’s,” she announces.

Harry drops her hand, just as surprised as her parents.

“Excuse me?” Her father turns the t.v. off and straightens in his chair. “I don’t think so.”

“Well I think so,” y/n defends. “Come on, Harry.” She takes his hand and tugs him towards the door.

“Harry!” Her mother protests.

He looks over his shoulder just as he’s being led out the door. “Oh, you can call me Rayna.”

#Harry styles requested #Harry styles requests #requests #request #harry styles fic #cherryyharryy #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst to fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff

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caelum-in-the-avatarverse · 3 years ago

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I guess this is a housekeeping post? I’ve written a lot of fic over the years and I’ve talked about my relationship with canon in my author’s notes and comment replies, but I’ve never actually written up a full explanation and posted it anywhere easy for people to find. So this is that!

TL;DR, courtesy of @ao3tagoftheday:

I engage with the Avatarverse on an extremely specific, transformative level, and that level is "my worldbuilding-centric headcanons showcased via fanfiction". I love ATLA, but for a long time now I’ve been less in it for the show, and more in it for what I can do while I’m standing on the show’s shoulders. Fanfiction is my creative genre of choice for a lot of reasons, but a big one is because it lets me immediately start having fun with the familiar without having to worry about establishing much set-up.

...Which is ironic because usually that aspect of fanfic means people are playing with familiar characters, whereas I ignore most of the canon characters and focus on stuff that’s either super obscure or completely made up by me, which involves establishing a lot of set-up, but whatever. The world is familiar, and I enjoy exploring new ideas within it.

I’m also a Fandom Old. I first watched ATLA all the way through a few months after the series finale in 2008. Consequently, most of my ATLA fandom experience was well after the show’s heyday, when all canon information was established and nothing new was on the horizon. It was a relief as I started playing around with fanfiction, because storytelling takes a lot out of me and I couldn’t bear the thought of getting jossed after spending so much time and effort on something. And it’s a lot of time and effort, for me - lots of the stories I put up on AO3 in the last few years are things I originally thought up a decade ago. I write slow, I take breaks, I think a lot, I don’t always have the understanding I need to execute the story I want and have to sit on it for a few years. It’s just the way my brain works, and I didn’t like the idea of potentially having to dismiss a story or concept I was still chewing on because Bryke jossed me.

I was a stickler for canon when I was younger. But as I grew up I realized that honestly, it’s not that important. The clincher was when JJ Abrams’ Star Trek reboot came out, and Star Trek fans hated it and were freaking out about What It Did To Star Trek Canon, and then someone wrote an article that went “You guys need to learn a lesson we Star Wars fans learned ages ago - it’s totally okay to point at a spot on your canon timeline and say ‘I don’t believe in anything that comes after this.’ Personally, I stop believing in anything that happens in Star Wars after they kill off Chewbacca by throwing a moon at him, because that was stupid.”

As a Star Wars fan who'd read a lot of the EU but had no interest in getting that far because I also thought killing off Chewbacca via moon was stupid, that resonated with me. Heck, there were entire books set before that point that the entire Star Wars fandom collectively ignored! That article writer was right - choosing your own canon was great and should be the norm!

Shifting into that mindset came pretty easily after that; it helped that my main fandoms have always had a tenuous relationship with what constitutes “canon” anyway. The Star Wars Expanded Universe was absolutely buck wild and often stupid, and was therefore easy to alternatively cherry-pick or ignore. The only official canon in Tolkien’s works is The Hobbit and LOTR, everything else is cobbled-together drafts that are so contradictory that Gil-Galad Son of Plot Hole is now a whole fandom thing. And pre-FiM, My Little Pony barely had canon and was essentially a free-for-all for the dozen of us who actually wrote fic - the focus of MLP fandom back then was very much on collecting, obviously.

So choosing my own canon is something I’ve been doing since...forever, actually. I only started doing consciously with ATLA, tho.

I’ll admit that TLoK disappointed me - probably not for the reasons you think, btw. (every time people start defending TLoK to me without asking what I dislike about it, they always defend stuff I think is perfectly defensible, and never address the stuff I dislike about it. but that’s an explanation for another time.) Once it became clear that the TLoK era wasn’t something I wanted to explore via fic anyway, tho...welp. *shrugs* Who cares?

And all the comics, books, this new RPG game, and whatever else that’s come out since? An even bigger shrug.

Frankly - and this is very silly and maybe even petty of me, lol - frankly, I don't actually consider anything beyond ATLA itself to be cold hard canon at all. (And not even all of ATLA either; they had to Word of God the timeline of Sozin’s death because the one given at Azulon’s funeral was ridiculous.) I reserve the right to park myself in what we knew when the show ended in 2008 and not bother with anything else if it doesn’t please me. I’ll use the other stuff sometimes and cherry-pick what I want, but most of my fic is written with an understanding of canon as it was in 2008 at its foundation.

The way I see it, if they wanted me to take new canon seriously, they should’ve released it back in like 2009 when I would’ve cared. And okay yeah sure that wasn’t feasible cuz Bryke wanted to do other things and Nickelodeon only valued ATLA for reruns, but them’s the breaks. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ They left me alone in the garden of canon for over a decade, and I planted new ideas and grew new stories and landscaped a crapton of worldbuilding until it was all just a delightful, fun, overgrown mess; they don’t get to come back now to tell me that actually none of that matters and expect me to care about what they’re saying.

And also, I just see no reason to be beholden to anything that can easily be wiped away at Nickelodeon’s whim. ATLA itself is the cornerstone upon which this universe rests, so it’d take an especially stupid executive to toss it. TLoK too, probably. But the comics, the books, that RPG game, anything else they come up with? Yeah, I consider all that B-canon at best. If you wanna insist that oh no, the comics totally are what canon is, I’m just gonna point you at the original Star Wars EU, rebranded now as Legends. Hundreds of books, comics, video games, and more, all treated as canon to the point that there was literally a guy at Lucasfilm whose job was rationalizing how they all fit together - and they all got swept away on Disney’s orders. *shrugs*

ATLA will probably still be canon in 10 years. The rest of it? With how often corporations like to reboot things these days, who really knows? And if all the extra stuff does get wiped away and people stop caring about it because “it’s not canon anymore”, did they really even care about it in the first place? I’d rather base my fics on stuff I know I like, build up my headcanons in the direction I want to take them, and just refuse to conform.

So yeah, don’t expect me to care for new canon or go looking for it or bother to make my fanfiction and headcanons compliant with it, because I don’t care on so many levels. ;)

So all that said, here’s a list of things you can expect me to not care about:

The comics in general

Queerphobia even being a thing in the Avatarverse

Ursa’s fate

Whatever’s going on with Azula

That Maiko breakup

Whatever’s going on with that RPG game

Probably a lot more as I think of it, lol

#caelum rambles #housekeeping #Caelum's headcanon

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thegingeralien · 4 years ago

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Thought I might share my “doing homework with adhd” tips in case the might help even just one person (because that would make me feel happy).

Who am I to be giving you advice? Good point! I am still terrible at studying and I’m 26 and at University for the millionth time. But I have studied A LOT in my 22 years of schooling with varying degrees of success.

I see a lot of people, especially teenagers or first year university/college students, with ADHD asking for tips on how to study. But if you do a google search most of the websites and advice that comes up can be extremely ableist. So I hope I can help someone!

TIPS TO HELP YOU STUDY WHEN YOU HAVE AN ADHD GREMLIN BRAIN!:

1. Chewing gum!

- This might come across as a weird one, but it has actually really helped me. I use it as a form of stimming to help keep me focused and concentrating. Other forms of stimming can potentially end up being more of a distraction when you actually need to be reading or writing - but they can help if you just need to be listening. Try not to get a bubble gum or fun flavoured one though - as they can end up making your mouth feel dry, lose flavour quickly, and just give your brain way too many sensory things to become distracted with.

2. Buying colour coded stationary!

- New stationary can make me really excited to start studying, but that excitement never lasts long and the act of buying stationary can sometimes become it’s own hobby. That’s not what we are going for here. I really recommend, especially if you are a visual learner like me, to buy colour coded stationary. This means removable page markers, different coloured post it notes, highlighters, sometimes even pens. This way if your mind jumps from one topic to the other, it doesn’t matter. Go with the flow. Forcing your ADHD gremlin brain to focus can be extremely counter intuitive. So pick a colour for each topic, and stick to that system to find organisation among your own chaos!

3. Buy a really cheap, boring year diary with hardly any writing inside.

- Not sure if your school/university has their own diary but they can be perfect for what I am on about. Generally you can find them for really cheap, soft cover, no writing or designs within the dates. Just dates, days, weeks and lines where you can write your homework. This helped me a lot in High School. I wish I had kept doing it in University, but I am good with giving advice, and not so much with taking it. I used to decorate the outside of it however I wanted. Some years I would redecorate the same diary every semester. In the public holidays or holiday days I would colour those lines in with different highlighters to make it look like a rainbow. But every assignment due date, homework, draft, rewrite, form I had to bring back, library book due date, school activity days, ANYTHING to do with school I would write in there with reminds and check lists. Important due dates would be highlighted, general homework and daily to do lists t(o help me not leave my assignments to the last minute) would have a tick box beside them (because ticking tick boxes is free dopamine). Try to not put birthdays or fun things in it. This is a small way to stay on track so it helps you actually stay on track with the big things when you’re home.

4. Big whiteboards stuck on the wall where you can’t avoid it.

- This is not something I had in school, but I so wish I did. I have been using this recently to keep on top of house work (as maintaining your own house is tiring) and my small business or other things I really can’t avoid. If I physically write it down (not just in my phone) it psychologically does help you commit it to memory. Again, physically putting a line through a task you just completed is a hecking great rush of dopamine. But the biggest reason I love my white board, I can’t ignore it. It is stuck to the wall and is never out of sight, out of mind. I can’t put my phone or diary down and then refuse to look at it until I’m past the due date. Again, I’m not a perfect person, there are days where I don’t do anything I have written on the white board. But the great thing is, I don’t have to continuously feel like I failure, as I can wipe it all off the next morning or week and start fresh. I also put important things I have to remember that I’m doing during the week so I don’t forget them.

5. Icky Medication.

- I know not everyone wants to be on medication, and I understand. I am not forcing you to. No matter what your opinions are, you lovely gremlin who is still reading this post, regarding medication, you are valid and I respect you. My personal experience with medication has not been the best. I have been misdiagnosed for a severe chunk of my academic life which has seen me trying to focus and maintain school work under some even worse states then I am unmedicated! However, since receiving my diagnosis and finding the right ADHD medication for me, I have the ability to get so much work done without having to unnecessarily struggle. It’s unfortunately not magic, it will not turn me into a robot that makes me do work and turn out incredible, noble peace prize winning assignments (as much as I wish that were possible). I still have the ability to be a lump, doom scrolling through tumblr, forgetting to eat, and ignoring responsibilities. But it really helps me when I sit down and start that thing that isn’t fun. Yesterday it helped me hyperfocus on cleaning my office which was a terrifying room to be in. So it’s pretty close to magic in my opinion!

6. Accessing Disability Support at your place of learning.

- Not all of you taking the time to read this will have either a) an offical diagnosis or b) a good disability support available to you wherever you are completing your studies. And that is okay. This dot point just won’t be for you right now. But keep it in mind for a time when it might apply to you, as it’s something I never thought I would need, but will never take for granted ever again.

- If you have an offical diagnosis and Disability Support, make an appointment with the disability support adviser. DO IT NOW! Get your psychiatrist to write a diagnosis letter outlining that you have <enter superpower that makes you hilarious here> and that you are receiving <enter x,y,z treatment here> and that you would benefit from receiving <enter what you have always wished you had on the days you can’t make your ADHD gremlin brain do the thing here>. Now these benefits can be, but not limit to: automatic extensions on ALL assignments, extra time on exams, extra breaks to walk around while taking exams, special consideration when marking assignments, my university allows me to take exams in a separate room with only the other students in my subject who also have disability support (occasionally I have taken an exam alone with only a tutor present) so I don’t get distracted, permission to take fidget items into class or exam (I have the option to wear headphones, as long as I can display that they are not connected to anything). Maybe you can come up with some great ones for you with your disability advisor or your psychiatrist.

- The disability advisor will often go through your course outline with you at the start of each semester or year. This is annoying and a great time for disassociating, but can be useful in hindsight because you are made aware of everything that will come up during your class so you are not surprised. Because lets be honest, it is unlikely you are going to look at the course calendar too often.

- Side Note: I make an appointment every semester with my disability support officer for my area of study to make sure I have my special considerations for the year. Now I may go through the whole year without ever using my considerations. However, the fact that I know they are there takes an insane amount of pressure off of myself. If I’m having an insanely screwy loony tune mental health moment, I can email my coordinator my disability plan and say I need an extension due to personal reasons, and WHOOP, there it izzzzz.

7. Dedicated one thing or a few things that have nothing to do with food/alcohol/other substances to reward yourself with for doing the thing!

- This may not work for everyone. It doesn’t always work for me. I used to reward myself with food, but that only reinforced my stimming with overeating and my already bad relationship with food. And I feel as though that would be the same with any other substance that can be linked with addiction. (Addiction is a tough word, cause what aren’t I addicted to, I have ADHD, but hopefully you get what I mean!).

-Now, boring try and not choose this aside, lets think of somethings that work really well as rewards!

- My partner likes to come give me a kiss and a hug when ever they have written and reread a paragraph, you might buy a book when you get a really good mark, you might want to go make a cup of tea and watch an episode of your hyperfixation after studying for <enter a good period of time here>, you might allow yourself to partake in an activity you usually do while procrastinating (but at least this time you know you aren’t putting something off), talk to someone who you know will tell you they are proud of you as they understand the mental struggle you go through to concentrate (if you can’t think of anyone, it is 110% okay if that person are the amazing people on tumblr or the adhd tumblr chats. We will freaking pop a bottle of champagne for you cause we get it!).

- Try and make what ever you choose be something in a different room or away from your working space. Getting out can really calm you down.

8. Don’t be afraid to ask for assistance.

- This is true for anything, but I don’t mean just asking your teacher to give you extra help understanding the task and marking rubric. Many people online, tutors, librarians at your school, past or present students offer assistance rereading and making small edits (they won’t make it magical unfortunately) to your assignments. If you are like me and once you have written or completed the dreaded thing, you can not imagine or force your gremlin brain reread or edit the thing. So it can help to just delegate this to someone else, who hasn’t read it before, so they won’t disassociate or skim read it. They will often notice things you never would have even if you were neurotypical as that is just what happens when you have been working on something for so long.

9. Repetitive music.

- It generally helps if this has no lyrics. Lo-fi is amazing. Classical is alright too if it works for you, but both my partner and I agree that it can really assist you to keep up pace and focus when the beat is a high and repetitive (almost meditative) tempo.

10. Limit your screen space.

- This is a tip completely from my partner @dr-adhd who also has ADHD, is an avid PC gamer and is consistently in a battle with their gremlin brain to focus on completing their PhD. They have discovered that it really helps them to limit their screen space - simply put, work on one screen only. They have done more work more easily when they have their one screen on their laptop to focus on. Whereas their office has multiple screens so they could be playing runescape, watching YouTube, listening to lo-fi and doing work - which never worked (shocking right hahaha).

11. At the risk of sounding like a Mum... Put your phone and other electronics other than the assignment necessary one, away.

- I am a Mum, but to a fluffy puppy dog, so I hate to sound like my Mum when I was in high school, but she was right. Mobiles are the single easiest and biggest distraction in ADHD history. I often, even at coffee shops, have to turn my phone over so that I am not consistently looking at it every time the screen lights up to say the pizza place has sent me a coupon, or a carpet place that has been having a sale since I was born is... still having a sale, or a friend from school wants you to watch this TikTok. Even though you might not want to ignore your friends, because people pleasing, difficulting making/keeping friends and RSD are hecking real things, but they can all wait. Trust me, none of them are urgent. That TikTok will still be funny in an hour or two. And I’m probably completely right when I say that whomever just messaged you, never replies as quickly as you want them too. So I doubt they are going to think twice if you are MIA to finish your thing.

My partner or I might add to this later, but at the moment I already know that I probably wouldn’t read this wall of words if I was the one reading it, so if you are still with me, THANK YOU and I really hope I might have helped you. Sorry for the mound of words, but maybe you can reblog, screen shot, or save this and read a dot point at a time or refer to it when you need. Don’t be afraid to ask questions, I promise what ever it is, I’ve asked the same thing once in my life or something MUCH stupider.

#ADHD #Study tips #actually adhd #autistic #adhd #neurodivergent #adhd study tips #advice #adhdstudytips #studying with adhd #adhd advice #ask adhd #adhd mood #adhd life #adhd vibe #disability support #uni support #school advice

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thepremedthatwrites · 5 years ago

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Stable Boy

request: Hey may I request a smut with Edmund in an au sort of thing? Either reader is a princess with a thing for Edmund and they’re enemies to lovers or he’s a servant in her kingdom and he is her secret admirer and he eventually tempts her and smut ensues lmao thank you

warning: smut below the cut

I burst into the room, the sound of the large mahogany doors banging against the walls echoing throughout the room. My parents both turned to me. My father held an amused smile on his face whilst my mother furrowed her eyebrows, a frown very much evident. “(Y/n), where were you?” my mother questioned as I made my way to my seat.

“My guess is riding horses,” my father answered with, leaning forward to pick out a blade of hay from my (h/c) locks.

“I promise to be on time for dinner tomorrow,” I said.

“That’s what you’ve been saying for as long as you could speak,” my mother replied with, letting out a sigh.

“What do you expect of her Maria, she’s a teenage girl,” my father chuckled as he took a bite of the chicken. My father caught my eye, giving me a quick wink. I smiled back, looking between my two parents. My father was laid back in his seat as he ate, a golden crown atop his head. My mother sat straight up, as if balancing the piece of metal that dressed her head. I brought my hand up to my head in order to feel my own crown only to find nothing there. Dread filled me as the realization sunk in. I tried to play it off, forcing a smile on my face as I ate, hoping my parents just assumed I had left my tiara in my bedchambers.

A knock on the door caused all three of us to turn. Standing in the door frame was a boy who seemed to be around my age, if not a year or so older. His dark brown locks fell onto his forehead, his cheeks a light shade of pink. In his hands was my tiara. The boy gave a quick bow before speaking. “I apologize for disrupting your dinner but I found the princess’s tiara in the stables.” My mom glanced at me, her eyes filled with annoyance.

The boy walked towards me, his eyes looking into mine. His action surprised me. Most people wouldn’t dare look a royal in the eyes. His brown eyes seemed to hold a sparkle in them as I grabbed my tiara from his hands. Our fingers brushed and I felt my cheeks warm at the contact. The boy bowed one last time before turning and exiting. I couldn’t help but watch as he left, not turning to my parents until he was completely out of sight.

“(Y/n). Are you even listening to what I’m saying?” my mother questioned as I focused my attention back to the conversation.

“Of course, mother,” I replied with, taking a sip from my goblet. “I’ll be sure to be more careful with my tiara next time.”

A week had gone by since the tiara incident and my mind had forgotten about the stable boy. I was reading in the library when a servant came into the room. I looked to see an envelope in their hand. “A letter for you, Your Highness.” I put down my book, as the servant handed me the envelope.

“Thank you,” I said, already tearing it open. The servant nodded before leaving. I unfolded the paper within to see a note scrawled in small and neat handwriting.

I look up at the moon and tell her of your beauty.

The stars listen to my stories of my love for you.

Written in the night sky are my dreams of you.

-E

I felt my face warm as I read the letter, a smile subconsciously forming on my face. I looked around the library to see no one else present. Never had I received a love letter before. The thought of someone’s admiration for me being strong enough to cause them to write something so beautiful made me blush. My mind wandered as I thought of who would write me something like this. Perhaps the Prince of Archenland. But he had never shown an interest in writing. Maybe a lord from Calormen. Though any particular person failed to come to mind. Whoever it was had written E at the end. Perhaps it was the beginning of their name?

I slipped the note back into the envelope before gently putting it into my book. I then closed my book and made my way to my room as my mind continued to think of who it could be. I couldn’t think of anyone I knew who had a name starting with E. I went to bed that night preoccupied with the thoughts of who my secret admirer may be.

The next day, both my parents had left on business meetings leaving me alone in the castle, spare the staff that never left the grounds. I made my way to the stables, excited to be able to ignore my responsibilities for the day and just ride. I walked into the building, the white horse closest to my left letting out a whine. “Alright Queenie, I hear you,” I chuckled as I made my way over to her.

“She only ever lets you get close to her,” a voice said causing me to jump. I turned to see the same stable boy that had returned my tiara. “She won’t even let me near her for too long. A pain to groom that’s for sure.” I was slightly taken aback by how nonchalantly the boy was talking to me, as if I wasn’t the princess. I would be lying if I didn’t say it was a nice change. “My name’s Edmund.”

“(Y/n),” I said before immediately regretting it. Of course he knew my name. At this, he let out a chuckle.

“I would hope so.” He helped me prepare Queenie for a ride as we continued to converse. “I don’t wish to come off as pushy but would you mind if I joined you for a ride?”

“I don’t recall stable boys taking horses out for rides.”

“It’s not really something I should be doing,” Edmund said, shrugging, “But I do enjoy your company and would like to extend this meeting. That is, if you enjoy my company as well.” I let out a laugh.

“Fair enough.” He gave a grin, rushing to the horse in the stable next to Queenie’s. We both made our way out of the stables, away from the castle and towards the lush forest that sat behind it. “Thank you for returning my tiara,” I said, the sound of bird chirping and the swaying of leaves the only other thing able to be heard.

“It was nothing. Just doing my duties as a stable boy.”

“I’m starting to question if you understand what a stable boy does,” I chuckled. “Returning royal property is not one of them.”

“Ah you caught me. I was only using the tiara as an excuse to see the beautiful Princess again.”

“Oh, now you’re just being sarcastic.”

“Not at all,” Edmund chuckled. “You’re one of, if not the most, beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on.”

“You must not have met many women then,” I chuckled. Edmund’s smile disappeared at my words.

“I’m serious (y/n). You are.” My heart stopped for a moment.

“Why do you treat me the way you do?”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t treat me like a princess. You treat me like anyone else.”

“I guess cause you’re so easy to talk to,” he replied with, shrugging his shoulders. “If it bothers you, I can still call you Princess (y/n).” I scrunch my face.

“Please don’t.” He let out a chuckle. “I know we’ve only really met and I really shouldn’t trust you but may I confide in you?” We had now stopped moving as we had reached the edge of a cliff that looked out to the beach below, the sound of the ocean waves crashing onto the shore faint.

“Of course, anything.”

“Yesterday, I received a letter,” I said, fighting to hold back my smile. Edmund seemed to straighten his back at this.

“What was in said letter?”

“It was a love letter!” I exclaimed, my smile now on full display.

“Do you have any idea who it may be from?”

“I’m not sure. But they signed it off with an E. This has only made it harder. I can’t think of any royals with a name that starts with an E. Even when I rack my brain of nobles, I struggle to think of someone.” Edmund’s lips had formed a straight line as he turned around, heading back the way we came. I urged Queenie to follow.

“What if it wasn’t from a royal or noble?” Edmund questioned.

“Edmund, what are you talking about?” I stopped myself before I could say another word. It was like a curtain was drawn from in front of my eyes and I could see clearly again. “It was you, wasn’t it?” He only nodded. I chewed on the inside of my cheek, thinking of something to say. Edmund was only a stable boy. I had been raised to marry someone of higher status. But that didn’t negate the fact that Edmund was one of the few people I’ve been able to talk to so easily. Or the fact that he was incredibly attractive. No. “We could never…” I started, my thought trailing off before it had even really started.

“Why not? Because of my social status?” His words hovered in the air as we stayed in silence for a moment. “Even if we could never have something serious…” Edmund started, turning to look at me. “We could always have some fun.” My heart raced at what he was insinuating.

“Edmund, that is completely inappropriate.”

“Or hot,” he counteracted, a smirk on his face as we neared the stables. I watched as Edmund slid off his horse before coming towards me. He placed his hands on my waist and I felt my face already start to warm at the contact. Edmund helped me down. As my feet touched the ground, I noticed just how close we were. We were so close I was afraid he might be able to hear my heart beating rapidly.

“If we were to have a secret relationship,” I said, causing Edmund to hold his breath in anticipation. “Nobody could know.”

“Yeah, that’s usually how secret relationships work.” I rolled my eyes at this, causing Edmund to chuckle. His hands started to trace my curves causing me to inhale sharply. “So, are you in, princess?” I let out a small whimper at the nickname causing Edmund to raise an eyebrow. “I didn’t know I was already getting you so hot and bothered.”

“Oh cut that crap Edmund. You know exactly what you’re doing.” Edmund’s smirk seemed to only prove my point. He grabbed my hand, looking both ways and making sure nobody was around before leading me to the back of the stables.

“We’ll have to be quick,” he whispered, his hot breath tickling my skin as he bent forward to untie the strings of my dress. I wasted no time taking off his shirt, my hands wandering his body and tracing his abs. Edmund’s fingers tickled my back as he undid the strings, allowing the fabric to fall off of my body with a final tug. He was quick to remove my undergarments, leaving me completely exposed to him. His hands wandered my body, his eyes covering everything his hands couldn’t get to. I worked quickly to take off his pants, revealing his extremely erect cock. I let out a small moan at the sight. He pushed me backwards causing me to lay on the stable floor. While it would usually be an uncomfortable arrangement, I was too worried with getting Edmund to fuck me to care. He hovered over me, his lips meeting mine for the first time.

I let my hands go to his brown locks as our mouths moved in sync. The kiss was hungry as we both explored each other's mouths. Edmund pulled away far too quickly causing me to whine in protest. “I’m sorry princess but we have to make this quick so that nobody finds us.”

I nodded in agreement before spreading my legs open for Edmund. He let out a low moan at the sight, stroking himself a few times as his eyes took me in. I watched as he lined himself with me, concentration etched onto his face. I threw my head back in pleasure as Edmund pushed into me. I felt myself work to accommodate him. He put down his hands on either side of my face as he started a steady pace.

“Fuck Edmund,” I gasped, my hand gripping onto his forearm. His arm muscles strained to support his weight as he started to pick up the pace. I wrapped my legs around him, offering him easier access. The new position caused a new surge of pleasure. I arched my back, letting out a moan. Edmund lowered himself onto his forearms, his mouth right next to my ear, his warm breath tickling me as he panted. I wrapped my arms around him, my nails digging into his skin as the pleasure started to become too much. “I’m so close.”

“That’s it princess,” Edmund said while picking up his pace. My nails raked down his back as I felt my entire body shake from pleasure. My eyes were forced shut, a blinding white light behind my eyelids. Edmund’s name fell from my mouth as I slowly came down from my high. I felt Edmund pull out of me. I opened my eyes to see him stroking himself, his face contorted with pleasure.

I propped myself upright as I moved his hand, replacing it with my mouth. “Fuck,” he gasped as I started to move my head. I pushed myself to take as much of him as I could, feeling his tip hit the back of my throat. His fingers were entangled with my (h/c) locks as his hand pushed me to take more of him. Edmund let out a moan as I felt his hips buck before the feeling of something warm shooting down my throat. I pulled away, swallowing the slightly bitter liquid. “Holy shit,” Edmund said, his eyes lidded as he looked at me.

“Yeah,” I agreed. We sat there in silence for a moment, recuperating from the intense orgasms we both had just experienced. Edmund’s hand brushed a lock of hair from my face as he smiled at me. His hand then traveled down to my cheek, caressing my face as I leaned into the touch. The sound of someone’s voice caused us to start scrambling for our clothes.

“Edmund, is Princess (y/n) here?” a male voice questioned. Edmund had already put on his shirt as he peaked over the bale of hay that hid his naked bottom and my naked self from whoever was speaking.

“No,” he replied, shaking his head.

“Alright. The King and Queen have arrived so if you see her, please let her know.”

“Will do.” We both held our breath as the man’s footsteps slowly got quieter.

“Guess I should go,” I said, already starting to get dressed.

“Yeah,” Edmund said, a frown on his face.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be meeting again very soon,” I said, causing him to smile again. “Just next time can we find a place other than the stables?”

“I’ll work on that,” Edmund chuckled, pulling me in for one last kiss. “Now go, your parents are waiting for you princess.” I nodded before getting up. I took one last glance at Edmund who was still laying on the floor, his shirt untucked from his pants and his brown hair a mess, before heading off back to the castle.

#edmund pevensie #King Edmund #edmund pevensie fanfic #edmund pevensie imagine #edmund pevensie smut #edmund x reader #edmund pevensie x reader #The Chronicles of Narnia #narnia #narnia fanfiction #imagine #preference #fanfic #Smut

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ladyfogg · 4 years ago

Text

King of Wands

Fic Summary: When you first started with the show, Jimmy asked for a reading but you turned him away because it wasn’t time. Now that he’s sitting in front of you and the cards are all laid out, it’s time to tell him exactly what his future holds.

Fic Rating: 18+

Pairing: Jimmy Darling/Female Reader

Warnings: Smut. Just, lots of smut.

A/N: Look, thought of this and wrote it in the last two hours. Just needed to get this gem out of my brain.

You’re a reader.

A tarot reader that is.

It started when you were a child and your grandmother passed away. She gifted you the set that belonged to her mother and hers before that. Your mother never bought into tarot cards and had refused the family heirloom. The moment those cards were placed in your hand, however, everything changed.

You were obsessed, pouring over the little instructional book day after day, memorizing each card and what they meant. It wasn’t until you performed your first reading that you realized the obsession went far deeper than you ever realized.

You began to see the cards just by looking at someone. You couldn’t explain it. It was subtle at first, just the card name floating through your mind. But then it became visual, sort of like when photographs were overlaid over each other. You knew exactly what card you would pull before you even started shuffling. And you were always right.

It scared people.

At first, you were labeled a fraud; shamed for a gift you had no control over. Then you were hated. People tended to get a bit cranky when you revealed their spouse was cheating on them or that you knew about the little money laundering scheme they had going on. But they were furious when you told them the depths of their character. They didn’t like when you peered into their soul and made them face the parts of themselves they kept locked away.

One day, they stormed your house, ready to run you out of town. You barely had time to grab your grandmother’s cards before fleeing into the darkness.

That’s when you met Elsa. And everything changed. See, she had heard about your gifts and had come to check you out herself. She was The Moon. You saw it the second you laid your eyes on her. Fear and anxiety, but full of intuition and illusions of grandeur. You liked her and you knew that you would be safe with her and her show. Though, you warned her that if she didn’t deal with her past trauma it would come back to bite her in the ass.

She laughed at your boldness.

That first night you slept more peacefully than you had in years. You were given a trailer, one that would act as your home and your workspace. For the first time in your life, you had a home that was all yours and you cherished it just as much as your grandmother’s cards. The house you lived in before with your parents never felt like home. Not since you started reading cards.

You didn’t meet everyone until the next morning at breakfast. Bette and Dot certainly were an interesting pair. Dot seemed indifferent to your appearance, Bette was nice and overly curious about your cards. Ma Petite was the sweetest person you ever met and Eve was an Amazonian vision. You met the others as well, but they were the ones who took you under their wings and showed you the ropes.

Well, them, and Jimmy.

Jimmy Darling.

From the moment he walked into the food tent you couldn’t take your eyes off him. Those deep brown eyes, curly hair, strong arms...he drove you to distraction. At least, that’s what you assumed it was when you didn’t see a card for him. You saw one for everyone else. In fact, the others insisted you read for them so they could see what you could do.

You humored them, mostly because you wanted to impress your new friends but also because you wanted the practice.

“What do you see?” Bette asked as drew three cards and laid them out before her and Dot.

“Don’t get your hopes up, Bette,” Dot said with her signature firm voice. “Tarot reading ain’t a skill. These people are just very perspective and use the cards as a way to swindle you.”

“You’re wrong and right,” you told her, still staring at your cards. “It’s a skill but most people do use it for personal gain. I however have nothing to gain other than getting these damn pictures out of my head.”

“What sort of pictures?” Bette asked.

“The cards. I can look at a person and know exactly what card I’m going to pull.”

“What do you see when you look at me?”

You tap the first card. “The Sun Reversed. Means overly optimistic and feeling down. You need to let your inner child come out and play. Have some fun in your life, honey.”

Bette smiled while Dot rolled her eyes. “I try,” she said. “But she won’t let me have any fun.”

“If I let you have the fun you want, we’d get pregnant,” Dot said.

You chuckled as you kept looking. “Next card is The Lovers Reversed. You don’t love yourself or respect yourself.”

At that, Bette's face fell and she pursed her lips together.

“You’re facing a tough choice with significant consequences,” you continued, now looking directly at her and not the cards. "Stop punishing yourself. Whatever you did, those consequences are behind you now, and dwelling on it isn’t going to change what happened.”

You tap the last card, still maintaining eye contact as you watch the card of Death appear behind Bette's head like the backdrop on a stage. “Something will be coming to an end. There’s a transition on the horizon and if you don’t deal with what’s in here,” you tap her chest where her heart is. “Then you’ll be blind to the opportunities in front of you.”

“Horseshit,” Dot muttered. “All of that was general. Nothing specific that would apply to either of us.”

“Those cards weren’t for you,” you told her, tearing your eyes away from Bette who was chewing on her nail in thought. “Those were for Bette. I don’t draw cards for people who don’t want them.”

“Well fine then, draw one for me,” Dot said, her voice tinged with challenge. “What card do you see for me?”

“Five of Swords.” You draw the next card in the deck, laying the Five of Swords right in front of her. “The recent battle you fought cost you more than you realize. It cost you trust, respect, and dignity. Moving forward is going to be more difficult than you thought. You should probably decide whether your point of view is so important to you that you’re willing to put your closest and ONLY relationship in jeopardy.”

Dot is unimpressed while Bette covers her smile with her hand. “Obviously you stacked the deck,” Dot accused. “I bet if another card were chosen you’d say something completely different.”

“Well, obviously. But another card won’t be chosen.” You shrugged and gathered all the cards, tucking them back into the deck which you then handed to her. “Shuffle yourself.”

With Bette's help, Dot shuffled the deck, twisting cards multiple times and being a lot rougher with the ancient set than you were comfortable with. You winced at the way she treated them, making a mental note to buy a set that your clients could handle instead of using your personal one.

Dot slammed the deck down on the table and waited. You smirked and gestured for her to draw a card.

The Five of Swords gleamed in the light of the tent. Dot's face hardened and she abruptly stood. “We have practice to get to. We don’t have time to sit around listening to a charlatan,” she declared.

Unfazed, you scooped up the deck and gently shuffled. “Whatever you say, grumpy.”

She stalked off, barely giving Bette a chance to wave goodbye.

Jimmy took her place at the seat across from you. he looked incredibly amused. “Day one and you’re already making friends,” he teased. “That was some reading. I saw the others you did too. Seems like you know your stuff.”

You smiled at him but your smile faded when you suddenly realized, you couldn’t see any card. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. All you saw was him.

Jimmy placed his hands on the table expectantly. “Alright, tarot reader. Tell me my future.”

“Sorry, I can’t.” You had never met someone who didn’t have a card and you suddenly worried that something was wrong with you.

“Ah, hey, that’s not fair,” he said. “I deserve a reading just like everyone else. Come on, doll face. What do you see?”

You considered the situation as you shuffled the card, with such ease and skill it was like the cards were floating between your hands and fingers. “It’s not your time for a reading,” you declared. “Sorry, Jimmy. Maybe some other time.”

As you stood up, Jimmy leaned back in his seat with a smirk. “Playing hard to get, sugar? That’s alright. I’m a patient man. I can wait.”

The circus became the place where you finally belonged. Everyone became family and over the years, your talent and act grew. Soon, your grandmother’s cards were only one of the twelve sets you used. You did most of your work while people were waiting for the show to start. Your trailer was set just next to the main tent so those in line or waiting could come in for a reading. You made decent money too, which of course went right back into the circus to help everyone.

Your powers grew as your act did. Soon you could see and learn things about someone that you couldn’t possibly know otherwise. The cards helped get things started but once you were deep in a reading, everything else came right from your own mind.

Every time someone tried to find a way to indicate you were cheating them, you made changes. At first, they said it was because you stacked the deck, so you started having them pick which one they wanted you to use. Then they said you cheated because you could see which one they picked right away and somehow used that the cheat, so you wrapped every deck in the same identical black silk cloth.

The table was left bare. No books or anything else during readings. You didn’t need the books anymore anyway since you knew each deck by heart. The person would sit and you saw the images just as clearly as you saw them.

Except for Jimmy. He was the one and only person who never had a card. It annoyed you but eventually, you came to cherish it. Because when you two were together, all you saw was him. You never got distracted by the pictures. Over time, you and Jimmy became close friends.

Often after a show, the two of you would sit outside and look at the stars, talking for hours. Your feelings for him grew, but you kept them to yourself. He was the first friend you ever had and you didn’t want to mess up the friendship by telling him how you felt.

Of course, the universe had other plans. As it often did.

It was nearly five years later and you were in your trailer, cleaning up for the evening when there was a sharp knock on the door. Not expecting anyone, you frowned and peeked out the curtained window before opening the door.

Jimmy stood on the steps, hands on his hips and jaw clenched. You immediately knew something was wrong and stepped aside to let him in.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, heading to the small kitchenette to pour him some tea you had just made yourself.

“Oh, you know, the usual. Being called freaks and getting shit thrown at us,” Jimmy grumbled as he paced. “I get so fucking tired of it. We deserve to be treated with respect just like everyone else. And no matter how hard we try they never fucking see that.”

“I’m sorry, babe. I know how much this weighs on you. I wish there was something I could do to help.”

“Why do you stay with us?”

His question made you look over at him with confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you could go anywhere you want. Do your act for yourself. Why do you stay here?”

For you.

“This is my home and my family, where else would I go?”

He collapsed into your kitchen chair. “You deserve more, you know. Someone—” He caught himself and paused. “Something else. Something better.”

You turned around to tell him that you had no intention of going anywhere when your vision was assaulted by bright lights and the image of the King of Wands. It was so sudden and unexpected that you gasped, letting the teacup slip from your fingers and shatter on the floor. The moment you staggered backward, Jimmy was out of his seat with his arms around your waist to catch you.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy there, doll face. Don’t wanna bump that pretty head of yours,” he said. “You alright?”

Grabbing his biceps to steady yourself, you shut your eyes and nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, just give me a minute.”

This was the first time in your entire friendship that the two of you touched. Sure there was an occasional handhold or pat on the knee, but he had never put his arms around you and, in truth, it was the best feeling in the world. Unable to stop yourself, you stepped into the embrace, burying your face in his neck. Jimmy held you tight, his nose in your hair. You were so close you could hear his heart racing and when his hand made a slow trail down your spine, you shuddered.

“Take all the time you need, darlin’. I ain’t complaining.”

You smiled and pulled back just enough to look him in the eye. “It’s time for your reading.”

He quirked his eyebrow in amusement. “That what the kids are calling it nowadays?”

Laughing, you reluctantly stepped out of his arms and patted him on the chest. “I’m serious. I can finally see your card.”

“Hot damn. Must be my lucky day.”

You stepped over the broken cup, too focused on other things to care. As you took your seat, you waved to the shelf with your cards. “Take your pick.”

No longer angry, Jimmy looked incredibly amused at the change of events. “You’ve got a strange definition of foreplay, but I’ll play along.”

You rolled your eyes in amusement as he walked up to the shelf, hands shoved in his pockets. He was as handsome as he ever was. His looks only improved with time and the white sleeveless shirt and finely tailored pants helped a great deal. Often you had to stop yourself from just staring at him. Unless he was on stage. Then, you tucked yourself in the back and watched him with shameless love and affection in your soul.

It took him a while to pick a deck, but when he did, he gingerly plucked it off the shelf and sat down with it.

“Unwrap the cards and shuffle,” you told him.

“I love it when you get all bossy.”

“For Christ’s sake, Jimmy, just shuffle the damn cards.”

He chuckled, placing the cards on the table and carefully undoing the ribbon that bound them. When the cloth fell away, you found yourself staring at your grandmother’s cards. They almost never were picked nowadays. Truthfully, you were the only one to use them in the last two or so years.

“So what card do you see for me, doll face?” Jimmy asked, shuffling the deck. His hands fumbled a few times but eventually, he got the hang of it.

“The King of Wands.”

Jimmy smirked. “I know I’m good in bed but damn, I didn’t know I was a king.”

“Not that wand, Jimmy. Well...maybe that wand but I don’t know yet. Just shuffle and draw a card.”

“Why now?” He kept his eyes on you as he shuffled. “We’ve known each other five years and you never gave me a reading. The one time I asked, you said it wasn’t time.”

“You know it’s because I didn’t see a card for you.”

“Yeah, but why do you see one now?”

“Fuck if I know.”

Jimmy placed the deck down and drew a card.

The High Priestess. No. No, that’s not right. You’ve never been wrong in your entire life. A chill ran down your spine and you frowned as you looked at the card. Jimmy’s card wasn’t the High Priestess.

“Looks like you were wrong, sugar,” Jimmy said. “That’s weird. I’ve never known you to be wrong.”

“That’s because I’m not. Draw another card.”

“Darlin’, it’s okay—”

“Humor me, Jimmy. Just draw again.”

Jimmy shrugged and drew another card, placing it next to the first. The Lovers. “Still not the King of Wands,” he said. “Look, it’s been a long day. I’m sure after doing all those readings you’re bound to be a little off.”

“Draw one more.” Jimmy said your name softly but you just shook your head. “Draw again, Jimmy.”

Jimmy sighed and drew another card and your heart lept. The King of Wands.

“There you are you sneaky bastard,” you said. “Now what the hell…” You cut yourself off when you realized what the cards meant. Images and sounds came rushing to you all at once and suddenly, you started laughing. Full on, deep belly, laughing.

Jimmy looked bewildered. “Have you lost your damn mind? What’s so funny?”

“You just gave me a reading.”

“Come again?”

You point to him. “You, Jimmy Darling, just read MY tarot cards.”

“But I ain’t no card reader.”

“Tonight you are apparently. See, this card is yours.” You point to the King of Wands before tapping the High Priestess. “And this one is mine.”

Jimmy looked down at the three cards. The High Priestess, The Lovers, and the King of Wands. His face broke out in a wide smile. “Well, shit,” he said, leaning back in his seat. “Looks like we have a long night ahead of us.”

The both of you were out of your seats in the blink of an eye. When your lips finally met for the first time, it was like your world exploded. Every nerve in your body felt like it was on fire and that only amplified times a thousand when Jimmy got his hands on you. He pulled at your shirt, tugging it out of your skirt so he could reach underneath. You gasped into his mouth the moment his skin made contact with yours and he groaned in response, palming your braless breasts with a rough squeeze.

“Fuck,” you swore. “Jimmy, I want you so fucking bad.”

“Oh, you’ll have me, doll face. All of me.”

He backed you against the wall of the trailer, mouth devouring yours like he was the hungriest man alive and you were the best meal he ever had. Teeth clashed together in your excitement and you were sure your lips were going to be swollen by the end of the night.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he went on, yanking your skirt up to bunch around your waist. His hands grabbed your thighs, giving them an excited squeeze as he yanked you against his chest. “You drive me damn crazy, woman. Always have. Seeing you walking around with this body and this mouth. The things I’ve wanted to do to you. Lost count of how many times I’ve touched myself thinking about you.”

You whimpered at his words, wet with arousal and lust. “Show me.”

Jimmy pulled back to give you that damn irresistible smirk of his. “Kinky. I like that.”

You tugged on his belt, undoing it and pulling it from the loops. “You have no idea, baby.”

Jimmy growled deep in his throat, giving you another kiss before taking over the task of ridding himself of his pants. God, he was magnificent. Long and thick and begging for your touch or mouth. Or both. Jimmy placed a hand on the wall by your head, keeping his eyes locked on yours as he started stroking himself. You wanted to look since that was the whole point, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from those dark brown ones.

You’d never seen eyes like his. They pierced into your very soul and saw you for who you truly were.

“Come on, darlin’,” he panted. “You said you wanted me to show you. The least you could do is look.”

So you looked.

Fuck it was hot. Seeing his hand wrapped around his cock, jerking himself off for you, was more than you could handle. You dropped to your knees, pushing his hands away and taking the tip of him into your mouth.

Jimmy’s hand fell to your head and he swore out your name followed by a loud, drawn-out, “Fuuuuck!”

It took you a moment to get a good rhythm going. Truth be told, you were severely out of practice. Ever since you saw Jimmy, you hadn’t wanted anyone else. You flirted every now and then with a client, but it never went further because you knew none of them would match up to him.

You sucked Jimmy off eagerly, closing your eyes and losing yourself in the heady taste of him. He moaned and grunted, urging you on with words of encouragement. You always loved his voice and could listen to him sing for hours. But this was a different kind of song. This was one you knew you couldn’t live without. His hips thrust along with your mouth, burying himself as far into your throat as he could go.

“Shit, doll face. Why the fuck haven’t we been doing this this whole time?” he groaned, tugging on your hair. “You better stop before this is over embarrassingly soon.”

Pulling off him with a pop, you dragged your tongue along the length of him before smirking. “Thought you would have more stamina than that, Jimmy-boy.”

He yanked you up onto your feet and shoved you back against the wall. “Oh trust me, darlin’. I have plenty.”

His mouth covered yours again as his hand disappeared under your skirt. Jimmy’s hands had drawn your attention but not for the reasons he would have thought. Even when he was self-conscious about them, you admired them. You had heard plenty of stories about his sexual exploits and wished that one day you would experience what he could do.

He rubbed you through your panties, drawing a gasp out of you as he filled your mouth with his tongue before biting your bottom lip as he pulled away. Jimmy wanted eye contact when he slid his hand under that soft fabric, his finger gently making contact with your clit before he pressed down hard. You shouted in surprise, lust coursing through your veins instantly.

“You’re already wet, baby,” Jimmy cooed, placing the gentlest of kisses on your neck as he continued to draw hard circles around your clit. “Sure know how to stoke a man’s ego.”

“It’s all you, Jimmy,” you panted, already breathless and eager. “It’s only ever been you.”

He paused, gaze softening. “Ever?”

“Well, not ever ever but definitely since the day we met.”

A second later, his finger slid inside you and with a gasp you grabbed his shoulders, arching your back in a futile attempt to draw yourself closer to him. He smashed his mouth against yours, kissing away what little breath you had and making your knees buckle. Dear lord, he was magnificent. His thick finger stretched you better than you ever thought possible, certainly better than your own had. And if you were this worked up from his hand alone, you couldn’t wait for his cock.

Jimmy rested his forehead against yours, watching your face as he pleasured you. Your eyes stayed closed but you could still feel the stare, sense his smile as your breaths mingled together. When he leaned against you, you could feel the hardness of his cock. Teasingly, you raised your leg to press your thigh against it and he groaned as precum leaked onto your skin.

“Fuck me, Jimmy,” you begged shamelessly.

“Oh, I will, doll face. Once you cum first.”

It didn’t take long for him to make that happen. Just a few more deep strokes and you convulsed against him, still trapped between his body and the wall. Stars exploded behind your eyelids and as you threw your head back, Jimmy latched onto your neck, sucking greedily. He was still at it when you came back down from your high.

“You’re gonna leave a mark,” you slurred, reaching down to grab his wrist so he’d give you a second to recover. His finger slipped out but he kept his hand on your thigh, his thumb stroking the soft flesh.

“That’s the plan.”

Laughing softly, you dragged your eyes open when he pulled away, only to be met with the beautiful sight of a disheveled and red-cheeked Jimmy Darling.

“You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen,” you said.

“I take it you don’t own a mirror. Because you’re far more beautiful than I am.”

“Actually, I do. In the bedroom.” You smirked and nodded over your shoulder to the beaded curtain that separated your sleeping space from the rest of the trailer. “Wanna take a look?”

“Been waiting for you to ask that for years.”

Giggling like school children, you grabbed Jimmy’s hand and pulled him into the room. He stepped out of his shoes and pants along the way, leaving them behind. Your room could barely be called that. It didn’t have space for anything other than your bed and a few decorations on the wall. One of which was a large ornate mirror you had found at an antique shop some time ago. Its bronzed frame shone in the moonlight that filtered in through the tiny window.

Jimmy admired it briefly, staring at your reflection as you climbed onto the bed. “Clothes off, doll face,” he said, yanking his shirt off. “Let me finally see all of you.”

You stripped slowly and deliberately, taking off each layer with careful movements if for no other reason than to give Jimmy the show he deserved. When you were finally, naked, he let out a strangled moan, reaching down to touch himself again. “Fucking hell, you’re just a pretty as I always thought you were.”

“I’m even prettier up close.” You spread your legs for him as you settled against the mound of pillows behind you.

Grinning, Jimmy climbed onto the bed, crawling towards you with catlike grace. As you leaned up for a kiss, he granted your desire, cupping your cheek to hold you there for a moment. A second later, his hand grasped your neck and he shoved you onto your back before burying his face between your legs.

His roughness thrilled you right down to your core, which he drank from excitedly. Those lips. That mouth. You knew he had a quick tongue but fuck you never knew how quick it was. He had you soaked from his spit in no time, his tongue switching between flicking at your clit and licking slow stripes along your seam. The teasing didn’t last long. He was too worked up and ready for more. His finger slid into you again as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked.

“Jesus, Jimmy!” you exclaimed, clamping your thighs around his head and burying your hands in that wonderfully curly hair. “Baby, you have no idea what you do to me.”

He drew back just enough to smirk up at you. “I’ve got some idea.”

His fingers and hand were drenched in your arousal and you weren’t even the least bit ashamed about it. After all these years, to finally be able to touch him and have him touch you was too much to handle. You were never one to play coy and you sure as hell weren’t going to start now.

“Fuck me already!”

“So damn impatient,” Jimmy teased, still fingering you as he kissed your inner thigh. “You really want it that bad, don’t you?”

You yanked his hair so his eyes met yours. “You do too. I know it.”

Eyes dancing with lust, Jimmy’s hand slipped out from between your legs. He crawled up the rest of your body and pulled you into a harsh kiss. You could taste yourself on him and a sense of possessiveness washed over you. It disappeared and was replaced by instant pleasure a second later when he pushed his cock into you.

You both groaned so loud, you knew the others could hear you outside.

Jimmy took you so hard, you could feel the trailer rocking along with his trusts. Not that you minded. Nope. Quite the opposite. You wanted more. You wanted all of him, everything he could give. Five years was too damn long to hold back. You never felt so stretched and full before. The world around you melted away and all you were left with was Jimmy finally claiming your body for himself.

“Perfect. Such a good girl,” he praised into your ear, his hips jerking against yours with a hard steady rhythm. “Always knew you’d take it well. All mine now, darlin’. No one else gets this sweet pussy but me, we understand?”

“Only you, Jimmy,” you cooed, more than happy to give yourself to him completely. On one condition. You grabbed his chin and forced him to look at you. “And you’re mine.”

He grinned. “If you say so.”

You pushed against him until he sat back on his heels and you were able to climb onto his lap. He slid back into you with ease as you rode him, his hands gripping your ass so tight you knew he’d leave marks. Jimmy turned his head and it was your turn to attack his neck with kisses and love bites. You saw how women looked at him, you weren’t stupid. When they saw the way you marked him, they wouldn’t look anymore. Not if they knew what was good for them.

“We look good, doll face,” he panted, watching your reflections in the mirror. “Like we were made for each other.”

You pressed your cheek against his and also watched, your bodies grinding and writhing, begging for sweet release. “We were.”

You came not too long after, too tired and worked up to hold back. Jimmy fucked you through it, biting his lip as his own orgasm overtook him. With a groan, he threw his head back and came inside you, filling you up with his release until he was spent and both slumped against each other panting.

Sloppy kisses were exchanged as Jimmy laid the both of you down. You remained in your sweaty, tangled embrace, neither one of you wanting to pull away now that you could finally touch each other. Even when you caught your breath, you stayed there, you stroking Jimmy’s chest and him running his fingers through your hair.

“You never told me what my card meant,” he said after some time had passed. His voice was soft from fatigue and he sounded more relaxed than he had been in days.

“The King of Wands represents pure, fiery energy. He’s a natural-born leader, a visionary. But doesn’t go forward alone. He’s all about caring for those around him and enlisting their help to realize his vision. He’s someone who’s here to leave a legacy.”

“Hmm,” Jimmy hummed in amusement. “I like the sound of that.”

“You create your own destiny. You create the outcome you want. Now, the only question is, what is it you want?”

Jimmy smiled down at you, reaching up to cup your cheek. “Already got what I want right here, sugar.”

With a smile, you kissed him. The both of you remained that way for some time, each kiss getting softer and gentler, until you both fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms.

#jimmy darling x reader #jimmy darling #evan peters #ahs freakshow #american horror story

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starlightsearches · 4 years ago

Note

Can we get 3 with hux from the flower AU prompts?

Hello friend! Thanks for the prompt, I hope you like it!! 🌹🌸💐🌼🌺🌷🌻

Requests are open ✨

Florist! Armitage Hux x Model! Reader (f)

Warnings: Not really, a little yearning, some slutty narration, it's kind of silly and maybe ooc, but I think that's it.

I've been feeling pretty shitty about myself and my writing over the past few days, and I figured the best way to break myself out of that funk was to write something, even if it was stupid. Sometimes when your brain is telling you that you can't do something, you gotta do it anyway. Let me know what you think, besties!

3. Flowers are often used for photo shoots and Person A gets hired to arrange the flowers for one, but they can’t help getting nervous around the model, Person B from the Flower Shop AU Prompts

Armitage is out of his element.

He's plenty comfortable working with his assistant in the back of the shop, or helping customers as they dither over the size of the arrangements and the available flowers at the counter. But this is madness.

The backstage of the set is absolutely teeming with people, and every single one of them runs past without a glance in his direction, shouting into headsets or flipping through stacks of pages attached to clipboards.

He ventures further, past a few darkened hallways until he finds an occupied room. There's a vanity mirror against the far wall, and a woman sitting in front of it, resting her head on one hand, the other holding a book.

"Excuse me," Armitage knocks gently against the door frame before stepping inside.

You set the book down, greeting him with a smile.

"Hello, are you here for makeup?"

For a moment, Armitage is speechless.

He hadn't noticed your strange apparel when he first caught sight of you, but now he can't seem to look away from the dress you're wearing, a less-than-faithful recreation recreation of a Victorian gown that hangs low on your shoulders and tight around breasts, leaving very little to the imagination.

Is he hallucinating? He's never believed in ghosts before but you do seem like a rather lovely, and strangely familiar, apparition.

Your brows furrow in confusion before you glance down at yourself, eyes going wide like you've forgotten what you were wearing.

"Oh," you exclaim, throwing your head back with a laugh, "it's a period piece were doing today."

"I'm sorry?"

"You laugh again, finding his idiocy endearing instead of annoying, "you're not the makeup artist, are you?"

"The florist."

"I see. We're doing a shoot today, a romance novel cover. Do you read romance novels?"

So that's where he recognized you from. He's seen your face before, many times over. How to Wed a Rascal, Devil's Daughter, Three's a Crowd, and his favorite: Kingdom of Thirst.

He's spent too much of his time—bleary eyed, reading into the late hours of the night—imagining your face, your eyes, the sound of your moans as he devoured book after book, story after story.

But he's not about to tell you that.

"Uh, no, not really," he lies, and you shrug off the answer, turning the seat so that you can face him.

"I've only read a few, and they're alright. The jobs pay well, at least, and they're more fun than most shoots."

He nods, leaning against the door frame in an attempt to appear casual, hoping you'll say more. He likes hearing you talk.

You don't look like yourself in pictures. It's not just the makeup and the editing, although he's sure that has something to do with it. You're much more earnest in person, and surprisingly easy to be around. It's magnetic, your personality, to the point he can’t take his eyes off you. It must be what makes you so great at your job.

"You were looking for a place to put your flowers, right? I can help with that," you say, standing from the chair and moving into the hallway, calling into the empty space, "Hey Stacy!"

The sound of harried footsteps echoes down the corridor, and soon you're greeted by a serious looking woman, dressed in all black with her hair swept up into a ponytail.

"What do you need, babes?" she asks without looking up from her cell phone, "Jack said he'd be here half an hour ago but traffic's got him running late, of course. Shouldn't matter since we're ahead of schedule so far and going for a pretty minimal look this time but I told him to haul ass anyways, traffic laws be damned. Who is this?"

Every word pours out of her mouth without a breath in between, and it's not until she looks up, meeting his eyes that he realizes she's talking about him.

"This is . . ." you turn to look at him expectantly, raising your brows.

"Armitage," he provides, and you nod.

"Right, Armitage," you smile, turning back to Stacy, "and he's got the flower delivery for the shoot today waiting in his car."

Stacy nods, mumbling into her headset. "That's great. I'll have Phil unload them."

Armitage nods, wondering if he should offer to stay and arrange them. It's not something he'd typically do . . . but he's not exactly in a hurry to leave.

Another set of footsteps meets the three of you from the end of the hallway, this time provided by another harried-looking woman, almost in a sprint.

"Bad news, Stacy," she pants when she arrives, out of breath, "Ronan's called in sick. He's got food poisoning."

Stacy groans, and you roll your eyes. "Typical. Did you call somebody else?"

"They're all busy: Theo and Jacob are out of town shooting swim, and Will's best man at a wedding."

"We'll have to call off the shoot, then, won't we?"

You shake your head, defeated. Armitage can't help but feel for you; it's obvious how much work goes into these productions, so much time wasted. Not to mention the six dozen flowers currently dying in the back of his van.

"Not so fast," Stacy holds her hand up, silencing the group. Her eyes land on him, and she chews on the inside of her cheek, thinking.

"It's Armitage, right?" she asks, tapping her finger against her lips, "have you ever . . . modeled before?"

He feels his face grow hot, heart racing, "What? No. Absolutely not."

The other woman catches on, sizing him up herself. "Wait a second, you're right Stacy. He's totally got the look. Those god damn cheekbones could slice through steel. He’s about the same size as Will, too, so costuming wouldn't be a problem. How tall are you? Six foot? Six foot two?"

"No," he steps back, "I won't do it."

You put your hand on his shoulder, begging him with your eyes.

"Please, Armitage. It would really help."

He twists his face into a frown, already feeling his resolve crumbling under your eager gaze.

"Well . . . alright."

The three of you erupt in to cheers. He's absolutely going to regret this.

An hour later—hair done, costumed, and feeling ridiculous—Armitage walks out onto the set.

God, no.

It's a surprisingly faithful recreation—he assumes—sumptuously decorated and absolutely bursting with flowers. That's not the problem.

It's a bedroom, most of the space taken up by a large, dark four-poster, rose petals strewn across its surface. He knows what that means.

Bile rises in his throat, a wave of nausea rolling his stomach. He couldn't do this. There was a reason he read so many romance novels: he liked to imagine he could be someone different, someone charming, passionate, wicked.

Being that person is not in his nature.

Vivian, the costumer, approaches him from behind, startling him.

"You ready?" she asks, gesturing him towards the stage, but he hesitates.

"There's no need to be nervous, hon. Your partner for today? She's a god damn angel, the best of the best. You'll be in good hands . . . or I guess she'll be in your hands."

She laughs at her own joke and pats him gently, wandering away.

He's going to throw up. Or pass out. Or drop dead. He can't handle this.

Then he sees you, gliding in through the doorway. You're sparkling with your makeup and hair done to perfection, your eyes warm and bright, and you're smiling at him. Just for him.

Somebody ushers him towards the set, and you join him, arranging yourself on the bed.

"Nervous?" you ask him, laying down on your elbows, a little too at ease. He doesn't have to answer, he knows you can see it on his face.

You hold out your hand to him, and he takes it, adjusting to the feel of your skin against his. "You don't need to be, it's easy."

You pull without warning, and he falls forward, knees hitting the mattress. His other hand land besides your head, close enough to your face that he could reach out and stroke it, if he wanted to.

"Ready up there?" the photographer yells from across the room, and you give him the thumbs up before slipping in to your proper pose. You place his hand at your waist, tilting up his chin.

"Now furrow your brow a little," you whisper, "and part your lips."

He does as he's told, and soon enough the camera flash sparks in his periphery.

It's not as horrible as he thought it would be, although you are doing most of the work. You shift periodically, sometimes staring deep into his eyes, or looking down demurely with your hand just barely grazing your forehead.

"Alright, that's great, that's perfect," the photographer monologues, never taking his eye from the viewfinder, "why don't we get a couple with your lips at her neck?'

He trembles, his breathing shallow, but you look up at him with the slightest nod, arching your back just a little farther, leaving your skin exposed and inviting.

He bends closer, examining the graceful lines of your body. If this were real, where would he kiss you? If he had you to himself—without all these people watching—in his own bed, no pretense, no costumes . . .

He brushes his lips tenderly against the junction between your neck and your shoulder, and he swears that he can hear you sigh in response, your spine curving against his fingers, your chest pressed tighter against his own.

"That's perfect," the photographer shouts, but Armitage isn't listening, entirely preoccupied with the feeling of your pulse against his mouth, his lips traveling up over your jaw, stopping just below your ear.

You turn to face him, slowly, until nose brushes his, staring into his eyes. If he tilted his chin just half an inch, he'd be kissing you.

"That's great, everybody! I think we're done for today."

The set erupts with applause at the photographer's words, but you still don't pull away from him, smiling gently, whispering against his lips.

"Like I said, you're a natural."

His face grows flush, and he shifts back onto his feet, clearing his throat with a cough.

You stand beside him, brushing your hands nervously over the bodice of your gown.

"Thanks again for doing this, we all really appreciate it."

"Of course, it was . . . fun."

"No really, it was a huge favor. I'd like to do something for you, in return—we could get dinner, maybe? My treat."

You place your hand on his arm again, stroking your thumb down over his elbow. Despite how much he's touched you over the last hour, this contact feels different. Because you're not playing a part this time. Because it's him you're reaching for.

"We can change first, of course," you say, the words rushed as you read his dewy-eyed imaginings for hesitation.

He smiles, placing his hand over yours in reassurance, "I'd like that."

Hux Tag List: @theredwolfisalesbian, @thembohux, @writingletterstothefire, @catboykenobii, @missmadwoman, @evarinaandlat, @sitherin-mxschief, @imafatassmess, @toasterking, @rosevon7975, @pradahux, @armitages-galaxy, @dark-lord-of-the-simps, @daughterofaries, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @aramanna, @theold-ultraviolence, @mrs-ghuleh, @lemongingerart, @isthisheaven5, @trash-queen-af, @generalthirst, @tobealostwanderer, @huxxoxo, @theoriginalannoyingbird, @liceforlunch, @g3n3ralhux

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jeonqukie · 4 years ago

Text

PLAYING CUPID / 01.

SYNOPSIS / Consistently overshadowed by your older sister, you expect your days in high school to be filled with plastic smiles and apathetic peers with hidden intentions. Everything changes when four of the most popular guys in school join you and your best friend for lunch on the first day of school.

FEATURING / Kim Namjoon; appearances by Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, and Jeon Jungkook.

GENRES & TAGS / high school au, freshman reader, senior namjoon, student council president namjoon, best friend jungkook, lots of fluff, and some angst.

WARNINGS / Graphic and mature language, slight age difference/gap (to clarify, oc is 14-15 yrs old and namjoon is 17 - first part is rated pg); list will be updated as fic is updated accordingly.

WORD COUNT / ~10.3k

NOTES / I am a day late in posting this and I want to let you guys know that this is... not edited at all and I will be looking through this every now and then to correct any errors. But I hope you enjoy the first part of this series! I wasn’t expecting this to be relatively long, but it was all to set up the characters dynamics and the history behind the reader and Namjoon’s relationship. Any feedback is appreciated. To repeat, I’m so sorry this was super late. Please expect part 2 to be up in ~2 weeks. (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

All rights reserved © jeonqukie (formerly known as aiscka). All (or portions) of my work may not be reproduced, redistributed, reclaimed, translated, modified, or used in any way whatsoever without my permission.

“You’re Sena’s little sister, right?”

You’d be a damn millionaire if you made a dollar for every person on campus tried to break the ice with you. It was a severe understatement to say that your older sister was known around town. She was vice president of the student council, president of the debate club, and the best player on the varsity volleyball team. All of the teachers and faculty adored her, every girl wanted to be her, and every guy wanted to be with her.

For the longest time, you assumed your sister was a celebrity on campus.

You were so wrong.

It was because you never met him. You’ve heard his name so many times whenever your sister had sleepovers with her friends or when she was on the phone with a friend, whispering so softly into the receiver, afraid that someone would find out about that she had a crush on him. You were perplexed because you thought your sister was a very forward person; she had so much confidence talking to so many guys who desperately wanted her attention yet somehow her palms would sweat over him.

“Hey, you know who Kim Namjoon is?” You would sit at the cafeteria for the first time with your best friend, Jungkook, who had devoured half of his ham and cheese croissant sandwich. He looks at you and he would raise one brow.

“Oh no, don’t tell me you’re one of those girls who’s obsessed with hyung.” But Jungkook sees the genuine confusion form on your face. You catch a glimpse of your older sister who sat on the other side of the cafeteria, thumbing a reply on her phone while her friend nudges at her when she sees the notorious posse that every girl swoons over.

It was a scene right out of a movie.

At that time, you had the faintest idea who they were, but you were quick to find out why they were so well known around campus. Jung Hoseok was the senior of the group; he was a dancer and was featured in numerous music videos by well-known artists and he had an extensive list of choreographers willing to work with him. Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin were inseparable; they were juniors who ran the school newspaper and the school yearbook – Taehyung being in charge of the photography while Jimin being in charge of the organizing the yearbook staff. Meanwhile, there was Kim Namjoon; student council president, valedictorian of his class, member of the honor society and numerous organizations on campus.

“Wait, you know who Namjoon is?” You were curious whether Jungkook knew of him, not exactly knowing the guy.

“Yeah. I mean, he’s been my next-door neighbor for god knows how long. His folks and mine go out for golfing twice a month.” You just nod to his answer when you are shoving a chocolate moon pie into your mouth.

But your mouth instantly goes dry when the four guys appear right across from you and Jungkook are seated.

“Gukie!” Hoseok exclaimed at the sight of Jungkook still devouring his croissant. “Look at you! Finally, you’re with the hyungs in high school.” The tease made Jungkook’s ears go pink and you feel your own face get hot; not because of second hand embarrassment, but because you can see everyone’s eyes on you – the two freshmen who had no right to be sharing a table with, what you can only assume, the four most popular guys on campus.

There were many times where people would only want to get to know you because of your sister; girls wanted to get close to you because you were had a cool older sister and boys wanted to be with you because they were so eager to come over to your place and obsess over Sena.

Jungkook, on the other hand, had no interest in her. As a matter of fact, you met Jungkook when you were in middle school and took a swimming class and later found out that you two were in the same class and bonded over your competitive nature in swim class.

“Who’s this? You got a girlfriend on your first day already?” You and Jungkook exchange a look of disgust with each other and create a sensible amount of space for each other to establish that you both see each other as friends.

“Oh my god, wait – you’re Sena’s little sister, right?” Hoseok corrected Jimin who had made the assumption you and Jungkook were an item. Jungkook can see the way you scrunch your nose from his periphery, and he decides to answer for you instead.

“This is YN. She’s… literally been my best friend since middle school.” Jungkook introduces you to the four people right across from you. “YN, this is Hoseok – well, I call him Hobi-hyung. This is Jimin-hyung and Tae-hyung. I’m pretty sure you know Namjoon-hyung because –”

“ – school council president.” You interrupt because you didn’t want Jungkook to reveal that you had been inquiring about him earlier. “I remember because you made that welcome speech this morning at the assembly.”

Namjoon is rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment and you resume eating your packed lunch, despite losing all appetite because you are surrounded by so many people did not know. They weren’t terrible people, but you weren’t mentally prepared for such strong personalities and dynamics to be introduced all at once. You felt like an intruder – a fly on the wall – because everyone carried on with their normal conversations; Jungkook and Hoseok were talking about plans for the weekend and then Jimin and Taehyung were already drafting out ideas for the yearbook. Meanwhile, you sat in silence as you ate your tuna salad sandwich, reading a new book you were gifted over the summer by your parents.

“Let me know when you’re done.” A voice catches your attention, and you stop all chewing. “The book, I mean.” Namjoon clarifies and he sees that you are already halfway done with it. “I read it a year ago and I’d like to hear what you think of it.” He offers you a heartwarming smile and you nod once, returning the same grin.

“I started it a week ago. I really like it so far.” The conversation is light and drowned out by the loud voices beside you.

You never really pinned him as a reader.

“So, how’s your first day so far?” He inquires and you honestly thought that the conversation was… over. Normally, that’s how all the conversations go when people find out your Sena’s little sister. They feign their interest in you and instantaneously ask about her.

“It’s… nothing special.” You admit, smoothing your fingers on the pages of the book. “Most of the classes I have before lunch, Guk’s with me. Now –”

“Now, her large, wrinkled brain is going to abandon me and get into those advanced program and honors classes.” You are rolling your eyes at your best friend who whines that you decided not to take the same classes as him.

“We literally have homeroom, social studies, and PE together and then we see each other for breaks and lunch. I think you’ll live.” The group laughs which earns quite a bit of stares from outsiders, but they seem to be completely unfazed by it. Everyone turns back to their own conversations and, usually, your social presence isn’t necessarily sought out by people.

It wasn’t until you hear another inquiry fall out of Namjoon’s mouth.

“What do you have right after lunch?”

“Biology.”

“Honors biology, by the way. Can’t you spare just one regular class for me? Or does your GPA really matter that much to you?” Jungkook complains and you are left ignoring his comments.

If there was one thing that your older sister taught you (something you actually agree with) is that colleges love a good GPA and joining as many clubs as possible. You even remembered how she’d phrase it for you; college admissions officers will cream their pants when you score that 4.0 GPA and do something out of the box from the rest of your peers.

“Or just get smarter, Guk.” Hoseok poked fun at Jungkook, earning a shrug from Jungkook. Namjoon, on the other hand, is smiling from ear to ear at the dynamic between the elder and the youngest of the group.

“Let me see your schedule.” Namjoon urges as he spots your clear binder which has your printed schedule on the cover. You push over your binder to Namjoon who is scanning your binder; he reads through your name, your birth date, the list of teachers you had for the semester and the classes assigned to you.

You feel indifferent about the sudden attention on you, especially from Namjoon; a mere stranger who everyone obsessed over was so piqued by you. You observe the way the corner of his slips curve into an impressive smirk as he glances over at Hoseok.

“Guess who we have for calculus at the end of the day?” He slides over your binder where the rest of the group examine the rest of your schedule, only for Hoseok to find a coinciding class with you.

“How the fuck are you in a senior’s class? Are you some math whiz or something?” Taehyung’s eyes widen at the sight of an advanced calculus class on your schedule. It was one of the things you were proud of you; you were good at math – it happened to be Sena’s worst subject and your parents often joke what she lacked; you had gained immensely.

“Yeah, YN’s cracked, hyung. I don’t understand. I remember in middle school they had to make arrangements for her to get into a pre-caclulus class or some shit like that.” Jungkook finishes his fruit cup and gathers all of the trash on site to toss over to the closest garbage bin.

Namjoon is sliding your binder right back at you, brows raised at you with the same grin he had on. He stares at you for what seemed like a long time – to you, it seemed like a long time and he is glancing back down at where your fingers brush against each other and he pulls away, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable.

“I – um, saw that you were taking orchestra too.”

You nod and chew on your cheek, self-conscious all of a sudden about your appearance because you are very much aware that Namjoon is examining every aspect of your face.

“Yeah. I mean, I already know how to play the piano, so I might as well learn how to play another instrument, right?”

“No – yeah, you’re right.” He stammers and he folds his hands together only to be interrupted by Jimin tossing over a bag of pretzels at Namjoon.

“Bell’s about to ring. Pretzels was all they had left. We need to head to physics soon.” Taehyung and Jimin are swinging their bags over their shoulders. Hoseok is too busy on his phone, showing Jungkook a video of his new choreography.

Suddenly, you are receiving a plethora of notifications in the depths of your jean pocket. Your fingers unlock your phone only to reveal a series of text messages from your sister.

Sena [12:29]: Did you just spend your entire lunch with Kim Namjoon?

Sena [12:32]: Earth to YN?

Sena [12:39]: GUK IS FRIENDS WITH ALL 4 OF THEM.

Sena [12:41]: You have officially made a fucking impression to this school. I’m so proud of you. You’re sitting with us at lunch tomorrow.

“Guess I’ll see you later, YN.” The bell doesn’t descend you back to reality. Instead, it was his voice that brings you to pack up your things into your bag. “You might want to sit at the back for Mr. Lu’s biology class; he’s a spitter.” Namjoon swings his backpack over his shoulder. “He reuses the same lesson plan every year. If you need any help with them, you know who to look for.”

As you’re swinging your own bag, Namjoon leaves you with a wink as he is exiting the doors of the cafeteria into the school hallways.

Now, you understand why the entire world was obsessed with Kim Namjoon.

“Alright, let’s get started,” Mrs. Kang, your calculus, is a middle-aged woman who didn’t look like she had aged past thirty. You found it incredibly hard to believe the woman was nearly in her mid-forties who had three kids of her own. She looked like a stern woman but had a good heart from what you remembered; she only wanted what was best for the class even though it meant tormenting them with a shit ton of homework. “I don’t need to go over the syllabus with you bunch. As you can see, this is a much smaller class than a regular class because not a lot of people pass this class.”

Silence fills the room from when you had first arrived. You were one of the last few people to find your seat because your class was all the way on the other side of campus. It seemed like everyone in your class were juniors or seniors. There were so many of them who knew each other from previous classes; they were all huddled in their own designated spots in the class, so you sat at the front of the class because all the seats at the back had been taken and it may help that you’re at the front because it’ll force you to pay attention.

“There’s a lot of material to cover and there’s only so much I can do. Since we’ve implemented the new block schedule, we’ll only be seeing each other for an hour and a half every Wednesdays and Fridays. First thirty minutes will be on new material, next thirty minutes will be spent on practice problems, and then the last thirty minutes will be working with your partner on getting your homework started. I’ve figured getting a head start on the homework for the last thirty minutes will be helpful just in case you or your partner are lost, you have me to ask for assistance.”

Someone’s hand raises up in the air out of your periphery.

Mrs. Kang points to them. “Yes, Namjoon?”

“How do we determine who are partners will be?”

“Please tell me we get to pick our partners.” Mrs. Kang is already turning her back to the class as she searches for a box that had been hidden behind her computer monitor only for her shake the contents of the box.

“The last time I gave the students the opportunity to choose who their partner was, I’ve written a disciplinary notice for academic dishonesty twice a week.” Mrs. Kang prefaced, and the room goes silent. As she continues ruffling through folded papers inside the wooden box, you are already aware of how the partner system is going to work.

Everything was going to be randomly assigned.

“We have 26 of you total which means there will be 13 pairs.” Mrs. Kang announces, and she walks around the class starting from the left where the person is picking a folded paper out of the box. Each person who had unfolded their paper sat patiently until Mrs. Kang had completed distributing the paired assignments around the room. She is fetching a pen and paper as she sits on her desk.

“Alright, our first pair is –” Mrs. Kang looks up to see two people raise their hands; it had been Hoseok and a girl with the prettiest bangs named Mimi. Mrs. Kang continued jotting down the pairs until you scanned the number on your own paper; a large 12 inscribed on your already tattered paper.

You hear Mrs. Kang’s voice as she calls out for the twelfth pair and you raise your hand. You don’t see anyone in your periphery raise their hands, so you turn your body around to search for your partner.

Your body turns cold and still, but you can feel your cheeks get warm at the sight of Namjoon seated down at the back with Hoseok with his hands raised, revealing that he had pulled the same number as you. The thumping in your heart is loud and it beats hard as each moment passes.

Both your hands lower and you are trying to turn your attention back to the front of the class where your teacher stood, but you can feel his eyes on you. You remembered scolding yourself, unaware of why you were so nervous and so shocked to be his partner – he saw you nothing more than another classmate; someone to help him with his assignments.

“Perfect! Since we have our pairs, everyone will be sitting next to their partner from now on; I don’t care where it’ll be. I just need you to sit with them, so we’re not scrambling at the last thirty minutes of class to find them.” Mrs. Kang says sternly, clearly not wanting to waste time in this class. “Shall we begin?”

“How do you already have so much shit to do?” Jungkook laid comfortably on your bed, shoving down salt and vinegar potato chips that your parents had bought from the store last weekend. “Do you like never take a break from reading or what?”

“It’s just a really interesting book.” You say as you flip through the next page and bite into an apple.

You two laid on your bed, basking in the afternoon sun. Normally, you two didn’t have this much down time. Last summer, you two volunteered to be camp counselors to lessen the boredom you two would endure. It was either that or spending every goddamn weekend on the golf course with Jungkook’s parents and yours.

“I was thinking of trying out for the track & field team.” Jungkook informs you and you resume reading. “Namjoon-hyung tells me that the team runs right after school and it sounds fun. Events are early though, and we all know I’m not an early riser.”

The mention of Namjoon urged you to reminisce back to your last period that day. Mrs. Kang mentioned that she wasn’t going to let the class immediately sit right next to their homework partner – thank god. You just wouldn’t know what to talk about with him; you don’t really know what to talk about with people because they always somehow led the conversation back to your older sister.

But, at the end of class, he did manage to keep up with you as you hastily packed all your items into the bag before you darted outside of the classroom. You planned on walking home with Jungkook and you two would meet at the front of the school. Namjoon, somehow, caught up to you in time.

He had grabbed your arm and greeted with you with his million-dollar smile. “Hey,” He breathes, and you stop to offer him a meeker and shier smile.

“Hi, what’s up?”

“You’re meeting with Guk?”

You give him a single nod before he hands you two pieces of paper. You’re curious as to what they are, and you see the words parent’s consent form along with the health forms to give to a doctor – for a physical.

“He’ll know what they’re for.” He reassured you and you hold onto the forms. “Thanks for that. I have to go; I have a meeting in five minutes with the student council.”

“I’ll be sure to give it to him. Was there anything else you wanted to tell him?”

He shakes his head, and he starts reversing his steps, clutching onto the straps of his bags. “I – um, I’m really looking forward for calculus – you know, the whole partner thing. I must be really lucky to be partnered with a cracked, math whiz like you.”

Now, you’re blushing because you weren’t really sure if you were supposed to be flattered or offended.

And he read you so well because he is suddenly panicking but he hid it. He stops his reverses, and he takes one step closer to you.

“I’ll see you and Guk at lunch tomorrow, if that’s alright?” He hums; his voice sounded so soft and clear to you – no one can hear a single thing he had said to you, but you heard him bright as day. Suddenly, you feel a grin creep up to your mouth and you nod once. You had regained some of your confidence back and Namjoon can see it. “Cool, well, I’ll see you ‘round, YN.”

“Earth to YN.” Jungkook snaps at you and you pay attention to your friend who is lying next to you. “Did you hear a single thing I said?”

“Sorry ‘bout that. I dozed for a couple minutes.” You admit and he scrunches his brows, dismissing your moment of silence.

“I was asking how it was like to be in a class of seniors.”

“There’s no difference, honestly.” You begin your thought. “It sucks just because I don’t really know anyone, and everyone knows everyone.”

“Yeah, but you have Namjoon-hyung and Hobi-hyung.” Jungkook reassures you. “They’re basically your friends now because we’ll be hanging around them a lot.”

You weren’t sure if you were looking forward to or nervous to be spending a lot more time with the older guys. They made a good first impression on you though; they’ve probably only mentioned your sister’s name once. Granted, it was only thirty minutes spent together, but it was so much better than most of the conversations you’ve had with everybody else.

“That’s true. I have Namjoon as my homework partner, so I’ll… definitely need to get along with him.” You chuckle under your breath as you read through each line without comprehending a single thing. Your mind had been so clouded with the idea of Namjoon and you weren’t sure why.

Jungkook decided not to stay for dinner that evening even though mom made two pans of lasagna to feed a village. However, he did help you and your mother prepare it. Your mom was pretty insistent on it, so you promise that you’d be giving him some leftovers for lunch the next day. Your dad arrived home next; it was a typical evening – he beelined to your mom, planted a kiss on her cheek and patted your back before he hastily moved to the office to continue working. Sena arrived home from school at a later hour than usual before she was already setting the plates on the dining table.

“Alright, Guk, final offer.” Your mother says as she is pulling out two piping pans of lasagna out of the oven.

“No, thanks, Mrs. LN.” He respectfully declines before he is swinging his backpack over his shoulder. “Mom’s expecting me home right about now for dinner. I’ll definitely ask YN to pack me up some leftovers though.”

“Alright.” She waves him a goodbye before you are showing him to the door. “Walk home safely.” She bids him a goodbye softly as she pulls the foils off the pan.

“Pack me an extra serving, please.” Jungkook pleads and you roll your eyes before he already made his way out of the door.

“Honey, dinner’s ready!”

“You did not tell me Jungkook was friends with Namjoon.” Sena settles herself on the dining table and you sit right across from her, waiting for your mom to begin serving everyone a slice of lasagna.

“Quite frankly, I didn’t know Jungkook even knew Namjoon either. I’d say I’m just as surprised as you are, but I really don’t know what the fascination is with Namjoon.” You lied through your teeth as your mom serves herself first (she called dibs on the corner piece) and you decide on getting the smallest piece since you weren’t so hungry that evening.

“Are you talking about Mr. and Mrs. Kim’s son? Is this the same Namjoon we’re talking about right now?” Your mom’s curiosity is evident in her tone, taking small bites out of a side salad she had prepared.

“Yes, and Sena is hopelessly in love with him.” You shove the lettuce into your mouth as you wait for your lasagna serving to cool down momentarily.

“How can you not be in love with him?” She breathes out hastily. Your dad has his brows raised in disbelief; his daughter talking endlessly about her crush.

“He is a nice boy; responsible, kind, gentle, polite, seems to get things done, really cute too.” Your mom lists his never-ending advantages, and you stray away from their eyes because you hate the admit that you find him incredibly cute.

“Can we please talk about something other than this boy?” Your father is already exhausted from listening to you talk about Namjoon and you don’t blame him, really. “How was the first day for you, dear?” He refers to you and you are still chewing on your dinner.

“I have three classes with Guk. I like all of my classes so far; I can already tell calculus is going to be… a lot of work. We have a test every week and we mandatory study sessions after school for the exam to qualify for college credits. Thankfully, I have a partner to work with just in case I don’t understand anything. There’s also –”

“Who’s your partner? Maybe I know them.”

Your silence is defeating, and you look at your dad who is waiting for his answer and you dart your eyes back at Sena who is piecing the puzzle in her head, so she drops her mouth open, gasping at your lack of a response.

“No fucking way!”

“Language, please, Sena.” Your mom scolds.

“I mean, you’ve been in the same classes as him before! I’m sure you’ve been in a group project with him or something. You guys are in the same clubs. I don’t understand why you haven’t asked him out.” You weren’t so sure what motivated you to blurt it all out because your sister was definitely a good catch, but the obsession with him was getting way out of hand.

“That’s ridiculous, YN. I would never ask out a guy. I don’t even know he likes me that way.” Sena is taking small bites out of her dinner and you sigh to yourself, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “If there was only a way for me to find out. It’s not like I have a sister who’s partners with him in a class – oh, she’s also best friends with his next-door neighbor! How convenient.”

She eyes at you where you decide to focus on your meal, but her eyes are pleading and desperate.

“I… am completely eliminating myself from this predicament, Sena. If you want to ask him out for yourself, you should do it. Besides, who wouldn’t like you? You’re amazing.” Your voice is sincere and genuine, and you hope she pushes all of her fears and insecurities to the side to do something about her feelings.

“It would just be so much easier if I knew if he thought I was cute or something.”

“Everyone thinks you’re cute.”

“That’s not the point, YN. Listen, how ‘bout this? You don’t even have to drop my name in there; just ask what his ideal girl is like or something… or let Guk do the work! I’m sure he already knows the answer. Just help a girl out, please, YN.” You sigh defeated because your sister was really good at convincing.

It wasn’t really hard to figure out what type of girl Namjoon was interested in or… if he was interested in girls. All of this was easier said than done and you were going to rely on Jungkook a lot on this.

“I’m not going to prioritize this.” You surrender and she is giddy in her seat.

“YN, you are the best sister anyone could ask for.”

Several weeks have passed since you had last had your conversation with your older sister. You made an emphasis that you weren’t going to prioritize delving into Namjoon’s personal life. You were purely on a calculus homework and best friend’s next door neighbor relationship with him. But you finally get an idea of what Namjoon likes in a girl when he had to leave early for calculus to get pep rally ready for the first football game that Friday.

Unknown [14:34]: It’s Namjoon. Got your number from Guk.

For some reason, you feel your heart leap out of your chest at the text message. You’re still seated in calculus class working on the first few problems of your homework without him. You look up to see that Mrs. Kang is too busy assisting other students confused with the problem. Honestly, you were confused too and were unsure with your methods, but your mind had been too focused on your cellphone the entire time.

Namjoon [14:35]: Should’ve gave you the heads up about this. Sorry about leaving you alone to work. ):

You [14:36]: It’s no big deal. Seems like everyone’s confused, tbh.

Namjoon [14:36]: Fuck, mb. It’s the first game of the night, so I’m kind of required to be here. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.

Namjoon [14:37]: I have some down time after setting up. Maybe we can work on it then?

You [14:37]: Just tell me the time and place, I’ll be there. (:

Namjoon says that he had somebody covering his duties for the student council before the game began. You see him rushing inside a computer lab that remained open for students to use. You had reserved a table at a secluded corner because you wanted to be away from prying eyes. He spots you trying to reread your notes and erase the umpteenth method you had tried for a word problem you were stuck on.

He admires the way your brows knit together; lips pursed as you began redoing your method on a separate piece of paper. He keeps standing, not taking his place on the chair right next to you – too afraid that you would interrupt your flow. You feel a presence right next to you and he nearly gives you a fright and you realize just how tall he is.

“You scared me.” You inform and he chuckles softly at how endearing it was. He takes the seat right next to you where he is already pulling out notebook and pencils from his bag.

“I left my book at my locker. Do you mind if I share your book with you?” You look at your open textbook and nod at once pushing the textbook closer for both of you to see. “Thanks.” He scoots much closer than you had intended and when he strips his hoodie off of him, you can smell his cologne and how good it smelled on him.

You ignore your thoughts and scurry back to the problem you’re on.

“What problem did you end on?” He inquires and you point to the exact word problem you had been staring at for the past thirty minutes in class.

“It’s been bugging me. I didn’t want to ask Mrs. Kang because I wanted to figure it out myself.” You were so stubborn, he thought to himself. You had only completed a total of eight problems when there was so much more to do for the weekend. For some reason, you decided to stay stuck on that problem for god knows how long and Namjoon found it adorable – one of the few attributes he liked about you.

He reads the word problem and begins trying to solve the problem on his own. After several tries, he had figure out what you had done wrong and he so desperately wanted to point it out to you. Just when he was about to open his mouth, you turn to him and shake your head, covering your ears with your hands.

“No. I refuse to let you tell me what you did wrong. I can figure this out myself.” You whisper harshly. Namjoon can’t help but respond with silenced laughter because this is exactly how your homework sessions have been going; just the both of you refusing to let the other correct each other until the other figured it out themselves.

“Can I give you one clue?”

“Nope.” You popped your ‘p’ to accentuate just how persistent you were. You stuck out your lower lip as you examined the word problem again and he looked at the glossiness of your mouth and the softness of your cheeks; how he desperately wanted to lay his own petals right on yours as his fingers crawl to your face.

“So, I have a question.” He starts.

“And I can try to give you an answer depending on what it is.”

“Are… you and Guk by any chance – y’know?” His question is vague, but you definitely know what he is asking you because lots of people were never really used to the idea of a boy and a girl ever being best friends; for some reason, people assume they always end up dating and never talking to each other again.

“God, no. I love him, but I don’t love him like… I’d date him.” Your cheeks were fully flamed, and you weren’t so sure why you were so embarrassed to discuss this with Namjoon. All the times you had to clarify people on your relationship with Jungkook, you were almost disgusted and quick to reassure people that you two were nothing more than friends.

“Well, is there anyone you were willing to date?” Namjoon is pushing the boundaries here and he knows it very well. But he feels like he has gotten to know you well enough in the past few weeks to ask such a question.

“Not that… I know of really.” You try to remain composed when you respond to his question, but you feel his eyes burn into your soul, so you’re doing everything you can to avoid his stare. But Namjoon continues to stare right into you. He really can’t take his eyes off of you. “Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever really experienced what it’s like to be attracted to –” Just when you had mustered the confidence to look at him, he is quite literally staring so deeply into your eyes that it is taking your breath away.

He is making you eat your words right now; you can’t take your eyes off of him.

“You don’t know what it’s like to…?”

“I don’t what it’s like to be attracted to someone.” You sigh softly; your breath fanning him. “On the contrary, I don’t think anyone’s ever really been attracted to me.” A chuckle comes erupting from your mouth, shaking your head. “Fortunately, that’s not really my goal in high school.”

“You don’t know that.” He quips.

“I don’t know what?”

“If someone’s been attracted to you before.” You shake your head in disbelief, chewing on the inside of your cheek knowing fully well that he was doing this because he wanted to seem like a dick for not disagreeing with your self-deprecation.

“Well, what about you?” You pose the question to him. “From what I understand, most girls and guys I pass by swoon every time you pass by.” He is chuckling to himself this time and he is very much aware of his desirability among his classmates. “You have plenty of choices; I’m sure you have the opportunity to date someone you must really like at this very moment.”

“That’s what I’m hoping on. I’m just not quite sure how she feels about me.” You feel like you were unraveling his darkest secrets and you were happy he considered you close enough to reveal who it is or give an inkling to who it is.

“Do I know her by any chance?” You’re hoping that you can narrow down who he is interested in. Because you barely knew anybody, you knew this would be a piece of cake.

“Yes.” He replies simply and he is staring at you. “You know her very well, YN.” He sighs, hoping you would finally understand what he is alluding to.

“Is she in my grade?” You were really hoping that the answer would be no or else you’d be breaking some terrible news to Sena that evening after the football game.

Namjoon nods slowly and he can see how you are not picking up his hints. He sees the slight disappointment in your face for whatever reason. Suddenly, he is perplexed because, in his eyes, he has made it pretty clear who he was interested in from the get-go. Many people should make the assumption, too, considering there was only one person he had his eyes on – only one person he was giving his attention to.

“Is it… that girl in Guk’s class who –”

As you are trying to list out the girls in your class who has interacted with Namjoon, he is in complete disbelief that you have not figured it out at all. How much more clueless could you get? He is sighing now because is frustrated. He admires your persistence when it came to solving difficult word problems in calculus but it’s frustrating when you are unaware of his feelings for you.

Just when is about to confess his feelings for you, you are greeted with another presence calling for both your names.

“So, this is where you two have been.” Jungkook ambles hastily towards your table and you grin from ear to ear when he is taking out his algebra textbook. “YN, one last chance, please. I didn’t pass my last quiz which brought me one letter grade down and my dad’s going to make me quit track & field if I don’t –”

“I told you I’d help you over the weekend, dumbass. I’m busy getting shit done with Namjoon.” You breathe softly before he is hugging you on your side and you grunt at how much stronger he has gotten. “But you’re buying me coffee for a week.”

“Sick.” Jungkook simply replies before he begins unpacking some of his homework. “You excited for the football game, Namjoon-hyung?” Jungkook queries and Namjoon is baffled because the moment is gone. One interruption from his next-door neighbor and the moment’s lost.

“Fuck yeah.” Namjoon replies and he sees that you’ve suddenly lost interest in the subject. You were subconsciously listening on their conversation while you are back to resolving the complicated word problem right in front of you. “Will you two be going to the game?”

“I’ll go, but YN won’t go because she hates crowds and, honestly, she doesn’t know how the game.” You exhale in response to Jungkook’s statements. Namjoon observes that you decide to move onto another problem, wanting to tackle the word problem at a different time. “Everyone you know will practically be there. Why not give it a shot?”

“We usually have half of the bleachers reserved for the student council since we’re in charge of tickets and concessions, so it won’t be that big of a crowd.” Namjoon attempts to entice you with modifications to appease your concerns. “Plus, we’d all get to hang out with each other; no homework, no calculus talk – just… us.”

Jungkook is stunned to see you agree.

The night was a lot more enjoyable than you thought it would be. Namjoon waived off the entrance fee for the game the moment he mentioned that you and Jungkook were volunteers. Taehyung was already on the field taking photographs of the football players and cheerleaders while Jimin took photographs of the students on the bleachers. You even passed by your own sister who was busy with her own group at the entrance entertaining friends, families, and alumni into the bleachers. Meanwhile, Namjoon was overseeing every single aspect of the event; he was mainly at the concessions, not wanting to create so much traffic around it.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” You offer your assistance before he notices that you have your hair all tied up. “I’ve washed my hands if that helps.” Namjoon can’t hide his smile and he offer you a pair of food safe gloves.

“I’m usually one to decline help, but we really need it. Let’s see – Yuqi really needs to go use the bathroom, so you can be in charge of the drinks and chips right now.” You take your station at the drinks and chips stations. It was going faster than you had expected; people ordered too fast or too slow – there was no in between. There were people who were very certain with their order which you appreciated. Then, there were the people who were very fickle with their order and you can’t help but stand awkwardly to wait for them to decide.

“I can’t believe you roped me into helping.” Jungkook grumbles under his breath. “Hey, I didn’t rope you into anything.” You take the five-dollar bill from the student and offer them back their change.

“Yeah, but you made me seem like a real asshole sitting there not helping.” You can’t help but laugh at Jungkook’s pout because you knew just how much he wanted to just spend his time on the bleachers, watching the game with his hyungs. But he was stuck here helping out the student council while most of them were on their bathroom breaks.

“Once someone’s back from their bathroom break, you can go back to your game.” You soothe him and the chaos outside the booth is starting to die down. Less and less people were coming because they’ve all satisfied their craving and the game was building up – it was pretty close, so you understand why Jungkook was in there sulking with you. When you turn to look at Namjoon, hoping to convince him to let Jungkook off the hook, you don’t see him there.

You look out the window to hear your sister’s pretentious giggle. She laughed so differently around him – acted so differently around him. He stood right next to her with the rest of the council members, giving them a big pep talk. She looked at him like he was an angel who fell from heaven. Their conversation ends and the rest of the council members disband except Sena and Namjoon. They are having a personal conversation and you can’t read mouths, but you can’t tear your eyes away from their beaming faces.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” You clear your throat, speaking so softly so only Jungkook can hear you.

“I’m all ears.”

“Does – does Namjoon have a type?” You say out of curiosity. Jungkook raises a brow at you, curious as to what motivated you to ask the question.

“Uh, I don’t know. I’ve never really heard hyung talk about any girls… or his type, to be honest.” He hums and he is staring at you stare at your sister and Namjoon. “Why’d you ask?”

“It’s… for Sena.” It was the truth, but your own curiosity was definitely a motivating factor. “She’s been obsessed with Namjoon since… as long as I can remember.” You breathe out, hoping no one else can eavesdrop on your conversation. “She’s been talking a lot about him more since she found out I knew him, y’know?”

“Huh,” Jungkook leans on the table and folds his arms. “Why doesn’t she just tell him?”

“Apparently, she needs some sort of confirmation that he thinks of her that way too, so she doesn’t make a fool of herself.”

“Why don’t you just ask him then?” Your silence is clearly something Jungkook wasn’t expecting because you never actually considered it once. “He’s a pretty easy-going guy; just ask him and he’ll be honest.”

“We’re not on that level of friendship yet, I guess.”

“Well, I consider you guys close enough to ask that kind of question.”

“Then, he’d just assume I’m being friends with him because my sister was using me.”

“Well, are you?”

“No.”

Your own answer stuns you almost. Just a couple weeks ago, you knew nothing of Namjoon and, suddenly, you are on a level of friendship where you think you can confide him in anything. Perhaps, now, you really understood why everyone obsessed over him; why everyone wanted to be friends with him, why everyone wanted to date him, why everyone just wanted to be noticed by him.

“Then, feel free to ask him yourself.”

You hadn’t really worked up the courage to talk to Namjoon about his dating life. You repeated to yourself that it wasn’t really a priority to delve into what goes on behind the scenes with Namjoon. You were in a consistent state of going to school, doing your homework, reading books, and retraining your body to try out for the swim team next semester.

But the time came when you got sick for an entire week and missed so much material, especially calculus material.

But you were eternally saved by Namjoon himself.

Namjoon had requested to drop off the homework sheets and printed copies of his notes over to you. Everything was so detailed, and you were impressed with how organized everything seemed to be. You didn’t know what motivated you to reach for your phone on your bed and dial in his number. Maybe you felt like it deserved a personal thanks rather than a typed one.

“YN?” His voice on the other line sounded so surprised and there was so much noise on the other end. “Give me a second.” He excuses before you hear him move to another location, somewhere much quieter.

“How many times do I have to thank you for being an absolute saint?” Your voice sounded so stuffed. The flu was getting to you really bad, but you were recovering well. But he chuckles into the receiver and you are flipping through each page he had printed before you fall onto your bed, sighing blissfully. “I’m serious, Joon. I’ll say it a million times if I have to.”

“You’ve pulled my weight when I was off doing council work so much. I’m sure if I got sick, you’d do the exact same thing. It’s what partners do.” Namjoon is smiling from ear to ear; he was glowing, and no one was there to really witness it. “I – um, did you see my note attached at the back?”

You are now flipping through the pages frantically until you see a handwritten sticky note that read: “We have a quiz on the Monday you come back. I’m free this weekend if you wanted to study with me.” And there was even a little smiley face attached to it and you are experiencing a whirlwind of emotions.

“You have got to be fucking with me.” You can feel the panic starting to bubble in the pits of your belly, but you were trying not to let it show. “You’ve already done so much for me. I can’t rob you of your weekend. It’s just – It’s just too much.”

“I’m happy to do it, Ace. I promise.” The guy deserved everything in the world because he was too generous for the world and you weren’t so sure what you did to deserve such kindness.

“Ace?”

He chuckles embarrassingly into the receiver, chewing on his cheeks. “I – uh, it’s a nickname. I hope you don’t mind.” Suddenly, butterflies erupt from your stomach and there is a glow on your cheeks that you are very much aware of and you are curling into your bed with a shit eating grin on your face.

“I – I like it.” You sigh and Namjoon leans on the wall as he observes the rest of his friends and council members enjoy slices of pizza, taking a well-deserved break from preparing for the pep rally event coming up next week.

“So, is that a yes to a study session this Saturday?”

“Yes.” Your voice is small and hesitant because it feels like you’re doing something wrong when you were just having a quiz session with your calculus partner.

“Great. My place or yours?”

Namjoon insisted on coming over to your place because you were still recovering. Coincidentally, your parents had the weekend trip away with your dad’s work colleague for a wine tasting event. You debated whether you wanted to tell Sena that Namjoon was going to be arriving in an hour, but you soon realize that she was out with her friend’s house for a movie night session.

You had the place all to yourself and you were relieved and frantic all at once.

You busied yourself the entire day to make yourself look decent; brushed hair, brushed teeth, clean face, and fresh clothes. You throw used tissues into trash bins, changed your sheets, and kicked all of your dirty laundry into your hamper that had fallen on the carpeted floors. As you are jogging downstairs, you discover you have no food in the fridge, so you’d probably have to order a pizza or something to share with Namjoon.

Immediately, you question why you are so desperate to make the place and yourself so presentable when this was a mere tutoring session with your calculus partner?

The doorbell ringing prompts you to peek through the peep hole and you see him; he is wearing a regular white t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. He has his hoodie thrown over his shoulder as he begins texting a message on his phone, waiting for you to open the door for him.

When you unlock the front door and open the door for him, you smile timidly at him.

“Hi,” You greet him nervously.

“Hey, Ace.” He waves before he examines how you look. Despite your red nose and tired eyes, he missed seeing your face for a week; he really did. You stood awkwardly fiddling with your fingers and he can sense just how anxious you are, so he decides to tread lightly. “May I come in?”

His tone is so polite which effectively allows you to open the door wider for him to enter. You are nodding and you close the door shut behind him, ensuring that you have locked them. “I – um, I can’t really offer you anything to eat since my parents are out of town, but we can order pizza, if you want. It’s what my sister and I usually do.”

“I’m more than okay with pizza.” He permits and you nod and begin walking to the living room. “Will we be working here?”

“We can work anywhere.” You announce. The conversation is so light, and you hate how quick yet reluctant you are to your responses. “I – I can get you a glass of water, if you’d like. I’ll just get my things from upstairs and bring them down to the living room.” You inform him and he nods as he is making himself comfortable on the couch.

You are scurrying off upstairs to go get your materials and catching your breath because you think you were holding your breath the entire time. You’re stalling because you’re making a check list of every single thing you need for downstairs to avoid seeing him or talking with him. Just when you are about to exit, you see him at the bottom of the stairs. He is examining each family portrait on the wall.

Your face is hot because you can only imagine how terrible you looked like a child, so you jog downstairs with your study materials to gain his attention. “I never really realized how much Sena looks like your dad.” Namjoon comments and you stop in your tracks, only to examine the portrait he is looking at. “Exact same nose and smile.”

You purse your lips into a thin line because you are reminded once again that he is probably only interested in getting to know Sena – there was always that possibility. You were so familiar with this feeling of discussing your sister with other people because – yes, she is absolutely beautiful and intelligent and there was no denying it.

“But you are like your mother.” He comments as he takes a closer look at your mom who seems to be so much more youthful. “The way she’s smiling here looks so much like the way you smile.” He describes and you allow him to explain more by staying silent. “When you smile, your nose kind of crinkles and the corners of your eyes creases and your dimples are a lot more –”

Your throat seizes because you’re flattered and aware that he has perfectly examined your appearance and all the features in what he sees. He grows silent and he is chuckling nervously, scratching the back of his hand to distract himself.

“Sorry that was… super random.” Namjoon clears his throat, and you are shaking your head before you point towards the living room.

“I – I’m ready now.”

Now, you’re desperately hoping Sena doesn’t come home too early from her friend’s house.

Hours have passed since Namjoon have gotten you caught up with all of the materials and have assisted you through last week’s homework sheets. Namjoon was impressed with how you can keep up despite your recovering condition. One minute, you were sneezing and wiping your nose clean and, the next minute, you have your lips pursed and brows furrowed as you are writing equations down on a separate piece of paper.

“I got a question for you.” Namjoon begins and you are still too busy piecing everything together for a specific word problem you wanted to master.

“Shoot.”

“Are you always this focused?” You are typing things into a calculator before you are erasing things on your paper and you turn to look at him, showing him the calculator.

“Is this the right answer?” You ignore his question for a moment.

He nods and you grin at him before you proceed onto the next word problem.

“If I’m a week’s worth of lessons behind, yes, I’m focused all the time.” Namjoon is shaking his head and he is in awe at how you are so quick at writing all the information; he notices how neat your handwriting is too. Namjoon checks his watch and realizes just how late it has been and he clears his throat as he looks out the window to see the sun has gone completely down.

“Will your sister be coming home tonight?” Namjoon notices that you stop writing – you stop solving the word problem that you are tackling because you, suddenly, realize that he is asking about your sister.

“She’s probably still at a friend’s house or something.” He senses the atmosphere has changed and you shift your mind back to the practice problem right in front of you. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason – well, I honestly thought she should be taking care of her recovering sister.” You snicker at his statement.

“She’s a great sister, but she’s not that great.” You quip, biting your tongue at how ridiculous he sounded. “I think we can all agree that she’s smart, charismatic, and ambitious. I will admit she’s a really considerate sister too, but she thinks caring for her ill sister is a parents’ job – not hers.”

“Okay, okay, I get it she’s amazing but not… amazing.” He raises his hands to surrender and his words coming out of his mouth urged you to inquire about his relationship with her.

“If you think she’s amazing, why don’t you date her?” The words came spilling out of your mouth uncontrollably. Maybe it was the meds, you thought. You see the grin disappear from Namjoon’s face into utter confusion and he tilts his head for further clarification. “What I mean is that… you’ve known her and worked with her for so long and she’s a great girl – I’m obviously really biased considering she’s my sister, but you two would make a… great couple.”

You didn’t believe that you were talking about this to Namjoon. You didn’t think you would have the guts to discuss this with him, but the opportunity came up and you took it. But you are faced with such an unfamiliar emotion. True discomfort arises at the pit of your stomach as Namjoon’s brows furrow together and he is shaking his head with the same boyish grin he always flaunted to the world.

“Ace, she’s great, but I… honestly see her as a friend.” He isn’t so sure how many times he’s reiterated those words before. Because little did you know, so many people have asked the exact same thing. Peers and colleagues in their class were very much aware of Sena’s not so little crush on Namjoon for quite some time.

“Well, I mean, isn’t that how all relationships really start? Becoming friends and then possibly developing feelings for each other? Most people always see each other as friends until one of them is aware of the others’ feelings, right?” Your tone was so quizzical. You were treating this conversation like it required rationale and logical reasoning to tackle the issue at hand.

But this wasn’t a problem the mind can solve.

“That’s the usual circumstance, yes.” He admits and he sees that you resume back to the worksheet. “But I’ve known Sena’s had a thing for me and, quite frankly, I’ve been interested in someone else for a while, remember?”

“Someone far more interesting than Sena?” You are in disbelief. You are trying to eliminate other people in school who is on the same social standing as your older sister. “That’s… not possible.” You breathe.

“You’re wrong.” You stop writing because you are retracing your steps on the word problem you are solving. He finds it so endearing how you can’t seem to understand that he is utterly into you, but you are so lost in numbers.

“No, don’t tell me, Joon. I’ve told you this hundreds of times –” You lift your head to look at him to accentuate your reminder; you didn’t want to know what you wrong, you wanted to solve the problem yourself unless you demanded the assistance yourself.

Normally, Namjoon would comply with your request. It was so rare for him to point out your mistake, but he figured this was the perfect time to do so.

“You’re so stubborn.” He breathes before he dives in.

You don’t complete your sentence. Because when you turn your head to look at him with pleading eyes, you are met with his pillowy petals on yours. Your cheeks heat instantaneously, and you can feel your heart leap from your chest.

His kisses were soft and slow. You don’t realize that he has already cupped your cheeks. You’ve never kissed anyone ever before but, for some reason, it was like you knew how to move your mouth against his. He was gentle but there was a certain control he possessed. You pull away momentarily to breathe and, suddenly, you feel the heat of his tongue swipe on your lower lip. A shuddered whimper leaves your mouth before you are regrettably pulling away from addiction.

“N – no, that’s not possible.” You’re still in denial from the events that occurred. “Sena – she’d be so… betrayed if she –” Your brain is glitching and it didn’t help that you can taste the mint of his lips on yours.

“Listen, Ace, for one moment stop thinking about Sena and answer me honestly.” Namjoon positions his body to look straight onto you. “Do you feel the same way I do or not?”

“I don’t – I don’t know.” You shrug before avoiding his eyes. “I – I shouldn’t like you.” You sigh defeated and you are covering your face. You were ashamed not because you like him, but because you didn’t understand what you were really feeling, and you didn’t understand what you wanted to do. “Why – why do you like me?”

“You’re hardworking and incredibly intelligent.”

“I know plenty of other girls who are… exactly the same.”

“Your tastes in book are impeccable. You’re selfless to a degree that I can’t quite comprehend. You keep to yourself, but when you speak your mind, it leaves a lasting impression. Listen, YN, I can keep going, but you can’t… keep doubting my feelings for you.” Namjoon justifies and it was a tough pill to swallow.

You were too stunned to say anything. Too many emotions flooding your brain and it took too long for it to process, so you remained expressionless. Namjoon found it incredibly difficult for him to read your face.

“Ace, it’s really hard to tell how you’re feeling right now.” He points out and you understand just how awkward you sat there; head spinning with so many things to say but very little coming out of your mouth.

“I – I don’t know what you want me to say.” You admit. “I’m not sure what you’re expecting out of me with a confession like this. If I don’t feel the same way, what would’ve happened? If I do feel the same way, what – what was I supposed to do?”

“Well, for starters, do you actually feel the same way as I do?”

“I – I do.” You croak to respond to his inquiry. “I – I don’t think I’ve ever admitted that to myself either, but… I think I like you.”

A wave of relief washed over Namjoon, but there’s a bit of relief for you too. It’s out in the open now, and you know that there’s nothing really you can do about it. There’s a very content grin plastered right across his handsome face, but it slowly transforms into a frown as he realizes that, despite your feelings for each other, nothing will change between the both of you.

“Namjoon, we can’t be anything more than friends.” You realize the unfortunate circumstances the both of you were in. “It’s not fair to my sister. I don’t think it’s very fair to make me choose between you and my sister. I – I don’t think it’s very fair that… you’re in this position.”

Your heart swelled just moments ago, and you can feel it crumble into pieces as the words come spilling out of your lips.

“I understand.” He agrees softly and you perk up at his acquiescence. “I’m not going to force you to be in that position, Ace.” The reassurance softens your tense form, and his fingers cradle your chin, lifting up to be at eye level with you.

“But when you’re ready to reconsider... us, I’ll be waiting.”

↪ Please stay tuned for the next part!

#namjoon fic #namjoon imagine #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #namjoon x reader

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