#actually no i won’t because this is my post. they have to dress each others wounds and they do it far more gently than they need to <3

[rosaacicularis]

au where scar is the royal guard assigned to keep prince grian safe as he travels to a neighbouring kingdom for a peace treaty but they get ambushed and have to survive in nature until they can get to civilization <3

[neptunesenceladus]

thinking about Themes and Motifs and how Tone can be conveyed through the layout of the page

[nocasdatsgay]

Be Good

Pairing: Female Reader/Azriel/Eris | Rated: E🌶️

Neapolitan bonds Master post | Word Count: 2493|

Summary: Eris had an important meeting so he told you to listen to Azriel, but no sex. He didn’t say anything about the shadows having similar restrictions

Warnings: edging (female reader), daddy kink, light bdsm, mentions of rope and wax play, praise kink, mating bond three-ways. No use of y/n just second POV.

A/N: Eris=Daddy and Az=Sir. Reader=Princess, baby girl, my love. I also never claimed to be an expert in light bdsm. Idk what happened I wanted praise kink with Eris and Az and got this.

Read it here on ao3| Read below

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Eris said to do what Azriel said.

That’s how you ended up in your study, hands pinned to the desk by shadows. You sat on his lap with his hard cock pressed against your backside. He didn’t touch you; he wasn’t allowed to fuck you and you both knew if his hands met your bare skin you’d both be in trouble. But his shadows however weren’t under those constraints.

“Open up your bond to our mate, baby,” he whispered in your ear. The cool breeze of shadows slipped up your skirts.

“But he’s still in a meeting.”

“I know.” You could hear the wicked smirk in his voice as he pressed a kiss to the back of your head. “We’re just going to tease him. He’ll let you in.”

“But I’ll get in trouble.” You whimpered as those shadows swirled along your thighs.

“You want to be a good girl, don’t you? You have to listen to me. I won’t let you get in trouble.”

“You promise?”

You gasped as something cold- another shadow- slipped down the front of your dress.

“Have I ever lied to you baby girl?”

You twisted your shoulders around to look back at him with a skeptical look. He only chuckled at you. You normally kept your bond shut down during the day. Mostly because with two mates, nothing would get done if emotions were shared all the time. The three of you learned that after your frenzy. Azriel seemed to read your mind since your bond was wide open to him. You focused on opening the bond to Eris while he ran his hands down your sides.

“Remember the day when we accepted the bond?” Gods did you ever. His hands fisted the skirt of your dress, dragging the fabric up just slightly. “That night you took both of us so well.”

You remembered.

You’d winnowed to the cabin when the frenzy started. They both had their turns with you individually and with each other. But the bond was still squirming in your chest and you begged them both to take you at the same time. Eris was behind you and Az in front. You’d never been so full in your life. You’d never screamed so hard when all three of you came together, the bonds between you wide open and flooded with pleasure.

“We should do that again.” Azriel’s voice brought you back from the memory. “Take a week at the cabin. I want to work you open real slow.” His hands slipped over your dress and pulled your thighs apart without actually touching you. “I want to see you take us both in that pretty pussy of yours.”

“Az!”

You squirmed in his lap, both legs now draped over each side of his own. A shadow had slipped into your panties and ghosted along your clit. Another shadow was stroking along your breasts. Azriel’s chuckle rumbled in his chest. He brushed your hair side and nipped at your neck.

“Be good and Eris will come take care of you. Then next week, I get to play.”

“And do what?” you panted.

“First I’m going to fuck our mate so stupid, he’ll be calling me High Lord.”

“And me?”

By the Mother, the shadows were doing too good of a job teasing you. You couldn’t think about anything else but getting Azriel’s fingers into your cunt.

“I have ropes and a paddle waiting for you, princess.” You whimpered and wiggled your hips back against his cock. He growled into your ear and added. “Careful. You know what happens to brats when it’s my week.”

That brought a moment of clarity in the haze.

“Punish me then. I’ll just lick your wings until you beg.”

You yelled. Azriel was out of the chair and shadows were pulling you by your wrists down the desk so you bent over it. He didn’t take off your panties nor did he throw up your skirts. He kept you there for a moment not touching you. Then you felt him crowd around you, wings blocking the lights.

“Try that again.”

“I’m sorry,” you said quickly. He hummed at that.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” He whispered in your ear.

“I want your hands on me.” That shadow in your panties was rubbing your clit faster. Your breath quickened. “I want your fingers. I want them- I want them in me.”

“What else?” Az pulled back and spanked you. Not enough to hurt but enough to make you yelp and stand on your toes. “I thought you were my good girl.”

“I am!” Gods you were close.

“Then why are you being sassy?” He laughed but you didn’t think it was funny.

“I’m not!”

Your skin was on fire. You could smell the arousal coming off Az in waves, torturing you on top of what he was pushing down the bond. You flexed your hands and stood on your toes, wanting to fall off the edge. Then the shadow left. You sobbed out a whine, tears in your eyes.

“Sir, please.”

You slumped on the table. A low primal growl behind you made you shiver.

“There she is.” He crowded you again. Shadows were back on your thighs, the cool brush of them teasing you more. “Hi baby. Close your eyes and listen to me. Don’t speak unless I ask you too.”

You did as you were told. Hazy want settled over you and you wished he’d touch you.

“Good girl.” You whined and pushed your hips back but he wasn’t having it. He held your hips in place. “Don’t be greedy, Princess. Our mate isn’t here, remember.” You nodded. “I want you to think about the last time I really fucked you.”

Last week came to mind. He had you by the hair, fucking your mouth while tears streamed down your face. Or when he had you on the bed, arms tied and legs pressed back so he could get in as deep as he wanted.

“Send that down the bond.”

You were sure Eris already knew what you were thinking but you pushed it through anyway. You thought a hum of approval came back to you.

“Think about what our mate is going to do to you when he’s done with his meeting,” Az whispered. Warmth in your chest bloomed at the thought of Eris coming back. “I know for a fact he’s been wanting you all day.”

You bit your lip, flashes of Eris fluttered through your mind. Shadows were in your panties again. You kept your eyes closed even while you squirmed.

“I showed him how to tie the rope but he still needs practice. Do you want me to put you in the rope tonight, baby? I could tie you up like a present and leave you on the bed for him. You can answer.”

“Not allowed,” you shook your head.

Az hummed approval. “You listen to us so well.”

You nodded. You did listen. Eris said no sex and no rope. Not unless he was present. You weren’t sure if it was a test of your honor or a test of patience. Probably the latter.

“We will practice on you later.” He kept talking. “He can get out the safe candles. I want to see you squirm again.”

You squeezed your legs at the thought. You knew it was going down the bond but the images you weren’t sure if it was from yourself or one of them. Flashes of Eris dripping wax on you while Az had his head between your legs. The snug feeling of the soft rope on your skin. You were close again, pleasure building in your pelvis and thighs. The shadows left again and you wanted to cry.

“Az,” you couldn’t get out the rest, a smack on your ass taking your breath away.

“That’s not my name right now, princess.”

You pouted. “Sorry sir.”

“You’re forgiven, baby.”

Az kept you like that for what felt like hours. His shadows would tease and tease, getting you close and then stopping, denying you of release. You’d beg and plead but Az wouldn’t let you cum.

“You can’t cum without Eris here, baby,” Az would chuckle.

At one point you heard his leathers being undone. You were so wet, you could feel it on your thighs.

“Sir please. I want it. I need it. I’ve been a good girl.”

You fucking knew he was stroking himself. Your mouth watered at the thought. You wiggled your hips, pesky shadows damn near overstimulating you. Az was still laughing at you like he wasn’t the cause of your current duress.

“I know Princess. You’ve been the best girl. You have to be patient and wait for Eris.”

But you were done waiting. You needed Eris right then. You needed him so bad you were throbbing from it. If Az wouldn’t take care of you, Eris would. You tugged on the bond without thinking, sending all your want down it. Come get me please is what you sent. The bond tugged back twice. I’m coming for you. Your eyes fly open. Eris was coming.

Daddy was coming.

“Daddy’s coming,” you whisper out loud. You pull at your wrists but the shadows don’t budge. “Daddy is coming for me.”

“Okay Princess,” Az was running his hands through your hair, instantly calming you from the frenzy of the moment. “You’re going to sit down in this chair and act like nothing happened. Okay?”

“Yes sir,” you sighed.

Shadows enveloped you smelling like Az and that calmed you down a little. Wrist shadows let up and he guided you back into your chair before the shadows went back around your wrists.

“Don’t say anything. I want him surprised.”

You nodded and waited.

Not even a minute passed when the door to your chambers opened and slammed shut. Heavy footsteps echoed as they approached the study and you had the nerve to hold your breath, waiting. You really shouldn’t have been surprised when a warm hand dug into your hair and pulled your head back over the top of your chair.

You blinked and stared up at Eris. His short red hair was askew, like he’d been running his hands through it constantly. He was breathing heavily.

“My love,” he said, looking down at you. You squirmed in your seat at how blown his pupils were. “You knew I had an important meeting today. Explain to me why, for the last hour and a half, you’ve been sending very distracting things down our bond.”

A shadow tightened on your wrist. A warning. You looked up at him and pleaded with your eyes. Eris was smart; his gaze flickered to where your hands laid on the desk. His grip loosened.

“Azriel.”

Laughter filled the room and behind you, you knew Azriel had stepped out of the shadows where he was hiding. Eris still didn’t let go of your hair.

He looked back down to you. “Did Azriel make you tease me, princess?” You nodded. With a heavy sigh, he let you go.

“Azriel.” Eris’s voice was low, and even not addressing you, it went a shiver down your spine. “You almost got our girl in a lot of trouble.”

You could feel the heat off him, his anger mounting. The shadows holding down your wrists left you and you were free to turn in your seat. Another shiver ran through you. Both your mates were staring each other down. You looked at Eris.

“Are you mad at me, Daddy?” you said softly.

“Not with you, princess,” he didn’t look at you, but still glared at Azriel who was still chuckling to himself. “You think this is funny, Azriel.”

“Of course I do.” Azriel gave him that arrogant grin he always has when he was riling his mates up. “You shut me out. I knew you’d let our girl through the bond. I’d pay good money to have seen the look on Rhys’s face, you reek of arousal.”

“And this room reeks of sex,” Eris grumbled. He glared down at you and you shrunk in on yourself. “Did he fuck you while I was gone?”

“No,” you shook your head, eyes wide. “I was good. I was a good girl. I promise.”

“She was the best girl,” Azriel smiled at you proudly. “I edged her a few times. You didn’t bar me from using shadows. They helped paint the picture of what I wanted you to feel down the bond.”

Eris glowered at Azriel. “Of course you’d find a loophole.”

You bit your lip. “Am I in trouble Daddy?”

There was a flash of recognition in his eyes, like he just realized how deep in you were.

“No,” Eris took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. “I did tell you to listen to Azriel while I was busy.”

Az came over and stroked his fingers down your cheek. “See. You’re not in trouble. I wouldn’t let you be punished for following my instructions. You know that.”

You did but after playing with you all afternoon you were in a headspace and easily convinced otherwise. You looked up at Eris through your eyelashes.

“Is your meeting over?” You asked softly. You couldn’t help but drop your gaze to his pants.

“No, it’s not.”

“I’ll go,” Azriel said while he ran his fingers through your hair. You instantly relaxed at the touch. “It’s just Rhys.”

“And Tarquin. And Helion.”

Eris put his hands on his hips but you could stare at his crotch. Maybe you could convince him to use your mouth. You’d been so good for Az, you wanted to be good for Eris too.

“I can handle them while you take care of our girl.” Goosebumps crawled up your skin from his words and the way he played with your hair. “She’s been so good. She deserves it.”

“Good for you, maybe.” You whimpered and Eris looked down at you, a flash of regret on his face.

“I can be good for you too, I promise.” You whispered.

Eris sighed and looked at Azriel. “Go. But don’t think you aren’t getting punished later for making me look like a fool.”

“I look forward to it.” He leaned down by your ear and whispered, “Show our mate what a good girl you are.”

“Okay,” you nod.

Azriel hummed an acknowledgment and you looked to watch him disappear into the shadows. You didn’t have much time to react to Eris walking up and lifting you out the chair. He marched with you draped over his shoulder and laid you onto the bed.

“Daddy expects you on your best behavior.” You bit your lip while he stood by the bed and took off his jacket. “Is your bond to Azriel open?”

“Yes daddy.” Your eyes widened with want while you watched him work on his shirt next.

“Good. Take off that dress and let’s show our mate what it feels like to be toyed with.”

Sequel here: Now Behave

[moongreenlight]

GIRLIE PLS I NEED MORE YOUNG HOUSEWIFE x PRICE 😭😭

Instead of starting every ask response with “sorry it took me so long to get to this I suck” I’m just going to issue a blanket statement that I have like 45+ asks in my inbox rn and I get so overwhelmed looking at them that I just ignore them until I need to write something. I love you all for messaging me I love hearing your ideas and compliments please don’t stop sending them just bear with me as I sift through them. <3

Also- I got legit death threats on my first post like this. I’d like to make this ABUNDANTLY CLEAR that this is a LEGAL AGE GAP. It’s not grooming, it’s not predatory, it’s ENTIRELY LEGAL. You’re early twenties. He’s mid-to-late-thirties. Please do not bite my head off.

Anyway I’m back on my Price and his young housewife bullshit below the cut. Xoxoxo

Here’s the OG post if you need a refresher

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

There’s this scene in the MW3 campaign where Price and Farah are talking about where she got the missiles from and he’s trying to shoulder up with her, but she just shuts him down in the end. (Like always I hope you’ll trust me. Implicitly) (John Price the man that you are!!!!!!) and I really think that’s the household dynamic. He’s always the biggest in the room, but he’s got this incredible reverence and respect for women who can out-bitch him. Bends his rigid spine BACKWARDS for you. Would move mountains if you’d only ask.

Doesn’t always have to be serious things. Like maybe you’ve made friends with some moms in the neighborhood (it’s a point of pride for him that they’re all minimum 5 years older than you.) and they all go to this obscenely expensive Pilates class at six in the morning. You mention in passing that you’re signing up and the suburban white dad in him makes his ears perk.

“‘N how much ‘s this class going to cost me?”

“Dunno. Think it just goes on the account.”

“Course. Gym membership doesn’t cost enough as it is.”

And then all it takes is him seeing you in a matching workout set for all of his protest to die down. For SURE makes a comment about how he ‘didn’t know it’d be this worthwhile’

Loosely following that point, I think any real arguments get hostile very quickly. He’s not so egotistical that he won’t apologize, but I’m certain that it’s like pulling teeth to get him to that point. He can hold a grudge unlike anything you’ve ever seen. Borders heavily on immature when the two of you are in the thick of things. Starts shit just to start shit. (Secretly because he just loves makeup sex. Would rather eat you out until you’re sobbing than actually say the words “I’m sorry.”)

Having thoughts about him bringing you to some military ball. The both of you dressing up and sliding into the car that was sent for you just to sit on opposite ends of the backseat and not speak a single word. He burns through a cigar in record time and you toss back a few glasses of champagne. You both put on appearances getting out of the car. Hook your hand around his bicep while he shoves you inside with his hand on the small of your back. Hissing nasty quips back and forth about making this quick. Few hellos. Show your faces and then you can get home and get away from each other. Putting on appearances only goes so far, though, because when John is pissed- everyone feels it. Sucks the life out of a room and replaces it with an eerie feeling like a bomb’s about to go off.

He leaves you alone with a few other wives. Pulled away by Laswell with a promise of a ‘quick’ meeting. He comes back half an hour later fuming when he sees that somehow you’ve been pulled away from where he left you and found company chatting with his boys at the bar.

He gruffs some greetings before dragging you away by the arm so roughly that you have to stifle a yip.

“Are we leaving?”

“No.”

“So what is it, John? You’re making everyone think we’re miserable.”

“We are miserable.”

He’s yet to stop yanking you away. You have to do an awkward half-jog to follow him down a short hallway just outside the washrooms.

“Christ, would you just-“

“You look like a slag in that dress.”

He about throws you straight into the corner at the end of the hall. Muscles in his jaw ticking under the force that he’s using to grit his teeth.

“Sorry?”

His lips are brushing the shell of your ear. Bullying you further back into the wall. You’re entirely taken aback by his ferocity; especially because he usually prefers you wear something much more revealing than this. Some twisted point of pride, him seeing all the men your age drooling over you even after knowing you’re on his arm.

“Ought to let the boys pass you around. See if that won’t sort out that fucking attitude of yours.”

Theres some more protest from you, but it was entirely useless given how worked up he was. He ends up making good on his threat and shoving you into Ghost’s side when he brings you back out. He says something, but you can barely hear it over the blood rushing in your ears. Though you assume it’s a half-warning, half-explanation by the way Ghost snakes an arm loosely around your waist and gives a sharp nod. You get off relatively easy all things considered because Ghost is the only one smart enough not to take Price’s words at face value and sneak you away to some coat closet. That’s a permission granted only when John was present and in his right mind.

I cannot stress enough how much it gets him off to see you pregnant. Not like sexually, but he is nothing if not a glutton when it comes to feeding his ego. Likes it when you wear shirts that hug your swollen belly tight so he can see exactly how much your body is changing. Even better if they’re crop-tops that show off the skin that’s now littered with stretch-marks from growing his babies.

I have been saying this, but just to make it clear, he wants a small army of children. Like enough to have one of those trashy reality TV shows about how many kids you have. (In reality I’m getting 4/5 kids in total vibes) Loves coming home from work and seeing you carefully stirring a big pot on the stove while bouncing a baby on your hip, pulling a clingy toddler around on your leg, and situating your school-aged kids with their homework at the table.

But he most definitely hires a live-in nanny to help you out. Knows it’s not fair to leave you with that kind of responsibility. But also it just makes him so hot to see you mothering his kids that he needs to be able to take you away and not have to scramble to find something to occupy the kids.

Makes the nanny take over bath time more often than not so the two of you can take a bubble bath yourselves. He loves the casual intimacy of pouring two glasses of wine and having thirty or forty minutes to yourselves.

Having this visual of you before you’ve started having kids sitting in the tub after being strangely quiet all night. He offers you a heavily-poured glass of red and you’re a little glassy-eyed and staring up at him but making no move to take it.

“You alright, doll?”

“Mm?”

“Said you alright? Don’t want a drink?”

A long moment of silence from you. Long enough for him to perch on the rim of the tub and gently tip you up to look at him by putting a few fingers under your chin.

“John, I think I’m pregnant.”

“So no drink, then.”

[judeyswife]

not what i’m looking for. — jude bellingham x reader.

genre : angst

word count : 800+

note : hii lovies, this is so exciting for me since this is finally my first piece of writing ill be posting!! it’s a bit short but i hope you enjoy my content and if you have any requests, feel free to send them to me :) i will soon publish a masterlist once i've posted a few writings! ps there will be multiple parts to this "mini story" !‏‏‎ ‎

‏‏‎ ‎ ———————————————————-‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎

you’ve had multiple guys in your life to say they’ve had you head over heals for them. physically maybe. something held you back from dating ever since getting heartbroken by your ex. however jude gave you a different view of that.

you had met jude a while back through a friends birthday party. you’d both had seemingly been watching each other and asked your friend to put both of yall on to each other. it was funny coincidence to your friend seeing both of their friends already so desperately trying to catch each others attention. but that was the beginning of everything, something you were remembering today just like it was yesterday.

•

you had been studying for a test that was literally almost your entire grade, it could basically break or make your entire percentage for that class. not that it matters. but this was obviously something you were taking serious. * bzz bzz * the name on your phone brought a wide smile to your face. you caught it trying to stop yourself from getting all flustered and nervous and answered the call with a grin.

“hello?”

J: “hey beautiful, i’m near your place, up for a ride?”

Y/N: “what kind of ride” — it was normal for yall to to flirt like this lol.

you heard that thick deep chuckle radiate through the speakers of you phone. god you loved him.

J: “feelin’ confident tonight huh? seriously though, you free?”

Y/N: “um, i’ve got a few more pages to look over but i’ll just do it tomorrow, how far away are you?”

you were starting to get up and organize your notes as you put down your glasses you had been using.

J: “like 5 minutes”

Y/N: “mkay, give me a few to get ready”

he gave you a quick approval and ended the call.

you weren't underdresses but you wouldn't say you were overly dressed as you are wearing a pair of a leggings, an essentials hoodie, and a pair of uggs you slid on by the front of your door. basic white girl outfits are so cute to you when you hang around.

it was about 8:47pm when you saw some car's lights flash through your living room window. you grabbed you keys and purse and walked outside to meet jude.

you opened the car door door and sat down closing it while trying to warm up your hands as it was a cold outside. but you refuse to wear a jacket. jude always makes fun of you for it.

J: "hey, you hungry?"

Y/N: "very.”

you both sat in a comfortable silence as yall ate at a park near your house.

“this is so fucking good” you said while your quite literally devouring you meal you got from the fast food place. jude bursted out laughing trying to sneakily take a fry from your box. “hey, that’s mine!” you said slapping his hand away. he moved away eating the single fry he got to steal with a grin on his face.

you saw it drop.

“what’s wrong?”

“y/n i need to tell you something, but please don’t freak out, or anything. please.”

something inside you already knew what it was. but you rather stay delusional then believe it.

“i won’t.” — “so, i’ve been thinking and i just need to tell you.”

mhm.

“so listen me and one of my friends have been getting closer and we’ve been talking for like the past week and I didn’t really know how to tell you because i really do care about you but i just really want a girl who’s trying to be in a relationship with me. i know we’ve gotten closer but i don’t know if I can do this talking stage anymore, you just aren’t what i’m looking for .”

you could hear a pin drop.

what the actual fuck.

“so you just did it behind my back disregarding my fucking feelings?” — “y/n it’s not like that i swear-”

“don’t fucking lie to me just to protect me, what the fuck is wrong with you bro” — “i didn’t want to lose you.”

“if you didn’t wanna lose me then you would’ve thought about that before you started talking to her behind my back.” — “i’m sorry.”

you just laughed. sorry. so fucking hilarious.

you picked up your food, shoved it in your bag and walked home. you thanked god for not living to far away from where you lived.

when you were a few blocks away you realized you weren’t crying. but you felt this heavy feeling in your heart. your gut. your head. you would’ve never expected this from the sweetest man you met.

i guess what they say it’s true. the nice ones are the worst ones.

that’s when you felt your eye well up with tears.

you entered your home as a different person than the one you left with.

[meryldian]

★ Dating 2023!Bill Kaulitz ★ (Fluff overload)

AN: Oh boy, I never thought I’d actually post some of my hcs, let’s see how this goes. I’m typing this half-asleep on my phone so I apologize for any grammatical or technical mistake, please let me know if anything!!

Let’s start with setting something straight, Bill does not fall for someone easily nor does he like to sleep around, as he’s said himself. If he’s actually decided on dating you it is a synonym for “I can see an entire future with you and I have probably thought of marriage plans”

No matter how you guys met; whether it was through mutual friends, by chance or were childhood friends, it would take you weeks, months or even years of forming a strong bond before even considering the first date.

Bill has said many times that he believes in love at first sight and probably still does, but fame and people have definitely left him with some major trust issues.

Won’t give you a house key or ask you to move in till he’s completely certain that you’re fully trust-worhy, but he loves having you over with him.

Now that you guys are together, he is the sweetest person on earth, will worship you like you’re a divine creature that landed on earth. He would worship the ground you walk on if he could.

Never-ending honeymoon stage kind of relationship not going to lie-

Will take you out to theme parks, rent out movie theatres, take you on hikes and long walks on a deserted beach.

Don’t be surprised if you ever wake up to a screaming Bill, all hyped because he decided that you’re spending your weekend at Disney.

He is so cheesy but it’s so sweet to see. He’s at a point in his life that he just wants to love and be loved. Kisses on the cheek, opening doors for you, pushing your chair at restaurants. He’s a gentleman.

Till it applies to his fashion. You ARE doomed to help him out of his outfit when he decides to be a bit more daring. Just like he does with Georg and Tom he will do it with you. “y/n you know the drill. When my assistant is not around you’re my assistant now help me out of these shoes”

Speaking of shoes, he is almost 2 meters (and sometimes more) when he wears his platforms and he absolutely loves towering over you. Bill loves to see you reach for a kiss. He will also walk behind you and ruffle your hair to annoy you.

This man is so whipped. He can gush about you for hours on end in interviews, his socials or his podcast.

He would also expose you a lot on Kaulitz Hills because that’s what he does.

He loves physical touch. When you’re walking in downtown LA he will always have an arm wrapped around your shoulders or waist, holding your hand or linking your pinkies.

He has the sneakiest of hands, it’s even worse than Tom. Bill always finds a way to have hand under your shirt or skirt if you happen to wear them. He can’t help it, he loves to feel your skin on his hands.

Back Hugs !!!

You will become his muse. He loves to dress you up however he pleases, you just look so good in everything! Bill will spend so much cash on designer sets to match with you. Only the best for his beloved.

He mostly calls you by your name in public but behind closed doors he would address you by the sweetest names like “My love, Darling/liebling, Pumpkin”

You guys are always out to eat

And at coffee shops

You’re each other’s personal photographers. Plus he absolutely adores to show you off on his instagram

I can see him as the type to start a vlogging channel just to show off how in love and happy he is with you.

Prepare yourself mentally to be woken up early to walk the dogs and drink sour green juice. Bill used to be a tremendous sleeper when he was young but those days are way behind.

When you wake up together, it is the best. He tends to wake up first and will stay in bed just admiring how beautiful you are. Tracing your features with his fingers. He wants to memorize every inch of your skin.

If you take too long though, he will get up and go prepare breakfast. Yes it includes celery juice.

You guys are always hanging with Tom & Heidi! You get into the craziest adventures

Heidi would love you so much, so would her kids. You and Bill are the cool relatives.

[lovingonryles]

winter wonderland

wanted to pump out a little gift for y'all before christmas 🫡 also i DESPERATELY needed to write for my girl gwen ugh love her 🫶🏻 (i’m legally married to her in case you’re wondering)

pairing: gwen stacy x fem!reader

summary: headcanons for being gwen's girlfriend during winter <3

warnings: established relationship, cursing, implied girly/femme reader, reader is shorter than gwen, tooth-rotting fluff

word count: 687, should take about five and a half minutes to read

listen to: winter wonderland by beabadoobe

i don’t imagine gwen being a cold weather girl

she would much rather prefer walking in the park with you over trudging through piles upon piles of snow

she definitely has soft hands (calloused from her drumsticks, but soft), so she hates winter because her hands get all dry and cracked

her cuticles also get really bad, girl’s hands look like this:

but no need to worry, because her pretty girlfriend’s to the rescue!!

every day you SLATHER this girl’s hands in lotion and pluck her cuticles

you also paint her nails in her current favorite color and she does yours <3

even with hating winter, she has so many poofy jackets

they surprisingly look so good on her

whenever you see her in one, you always HAVE to go and give her a big bear hug because what else are you supposed to do?? she looks like a fucking marshmallow!!

when you say you’re cold, she always insists on giving you her jacket. of course you protest every time, but it never works

she of course wants her girl to be warm, but she always wants to see how dumb you look in the jacket (girl’s 5’8 and has muscles [you can’t convince me otherwise], of course you’re gonna look like an idiot in it)

she’ll take a picture and post it on her story and you’ll be like “ gwen noooo :((” and she’s all “oh, I’m sorry. can’t help that you’re smaller than me” 😭🫶🏻

sometimes you convince her to go out in the snow with you

it takes a while, but once she’s out there, she won’t go back inside

she is absolutely a BEAST at snowball fights

you’ll be hiding behind a tree holding your snowball, and she’ll come out of nowhere and hit you right in the face

you have to yell at her to stop at some point because it’s just snowball after snowball and you’re starting to get cold

you guys also make snowmen, i don’t make the rules

hers always look kind of demented tho

shit’s looking like this:

“gwen, what the fuck is that 😭”

“that’s harold. what do you have against him?”

“he looks like he got thrown in a blender…”

“your face looks like it got thrown in a blender.”

“you’re so rude!! ☹️ you know what, at least mine looks better.”

christmas is the absolute best with her

you guys would have a tradition of giving each other the most ass gifts ever, like cat socks or shrek earrings

one year she legit gives you coal

the next you get her an empty pringles can, you get the process

sometimes she actually turns up and gets you something good that reminded her of you

one year she literally gave you this amazing dress

satin in your favorite color that came down to your knees with lace on the edges

“where’d you get the money for this?!”

“i have my ways.”

“i swear to god, if you spent all your money on this…” (she did)

needless to say, it’s your new favorite dress

she also loves baking with you, even though she‘s ass at it

you’re trying to make snowflake cookies and they end up looking like a fucking whale

also the dough’s super inconsistent because she poured almost the whole bag of flour in 😭

poor girl cannot follow instructions for the life of her (I don’t believe in consistency LMAOLMAO)

the cookies are so bad you almost gag trying to eat them but at least you spent quality time with your girlfriend!!

if there’s one thing she does know how to make tho, it’s hot chocolate

she has a killer recipe, but she refuses to give it to you

says it’s a family recipe that can absolutely NOT be shared

after a day of her kicking your ass with the snowballs, her hot chocolate’s the best thing to perk you up

your cold hands will graze each other’s as she hands you your mug <3

you’ll cuddle while the snow falls outside, her arm gently around your waist, tons of blankets over you two

[saraanzu]

bsd speculation: what’s up with this girl in bram’s flashback from 107.5, and what can we learn about her from dracula?

(prefacing this with some rambling… actual analysis starts after the readmore)

107.5 came out the same day as the s5 trailer and it was right after an exciting mersault chapter which is the vastly more popular pov and it was a whopping 9 pages - it was bound to be disliked. I won’t pretend a 9-page chapter isn’t disappointing (no idea why recent chapters have been so short - I hope they get a bit longer again when s5 is done airing?) and I think it’s fine to prefer the mersault storyline but I’ve also seen some god-awful takes about this chapter.

aya and bram aren’t side characters! they have been core to bsd’s plot ever since their introductions (in aya’s case, her re-introduction) and you can dislike them all you want but it’s objectively incorrect to claim they aren’t important to the story.

I also don’t agree with the take that 107.5 didn’t further the plot at all - obviously not a lot can happen in, again, 9 pages (that’s 1/3 the length of 107!) but aya deciding to remove bram’s sword and him actually encouraging her to do it even when he doesn’t believe it’s possible and previously told her not to is a huge turning point in the story! 107.5 certainly isn’t a favorite of mine but I will say we’ve had (slightly) longer chapters in recent months that had more exposition and setup with less plot.

I’ve seen some people worry that, because bram pictures someone who looks like aya in what’s presumably a wedding dress, bram and aya’s relationship is going in a creepy direction. I want to make it clear that no matter who this flashback girl is, even if she’s bram’s dead lover and/or aya in a previous life, I highly highly doubt that anything weird is going to happen between bram and aya. their relationship hasn’t been set up like that at all, in fact bram has parallels with aya’s father and he explicitly sees her as a child (more on that later) (look. bsd is not above using some Weird Tropes. in particular, the tanizakis and mori come to mind (and in mori’s case, it doesn’t even really function as a reference to the irl author - vitas sexualis has nothing to do with pedophillia!) but it’s important to mention that, while I wish those tropes weren’t in bsd at all because they’re unnecessary and add nothing of value to the characters, they are ultimately gags and nothing more. they don’t really set a precedent for how weird asagiri is willing to get when it comes to legitimately serious plot points.)

okay! got it all out of my system here’s the actual post

part 1: the dress

personally, when I first read 107.5, I didn’t think this girl was in a wedding dress. my initial assumption was “this must be bram’s daughter, she’s wearing some sort of tiara and bram was a nobleman”. but looking at it again, it does resemble one, and we should consider how bram’s backstory might reference dracula.

“the brides of dracula” are three seductive vampire ladies who live in count dracula’s castle and attempt to feed on jonathan harker early on in the book before being stopped by dracula, who chastises them for trying to eat harker and feeds them a human baby instead.

while they are known as dracula’s brides in pop culture and are often portrayed as such in movie adaptations, they go unnamed in the original novel and their relation to dracula is unclear. from what we see of them they refer to each other as “sisters”, although perhaps not in the literal sense. two of them have dark hair and are described as having similar facial features to dracula while the third is blonde, which may imply the third is dracula’s wife and the other two are his daughters. I imagine they’re pretty vague and mysterious on purpose, they could be dracula’s wives/sisters/daughters, or even just some vampire ladies crashing at his house.

however, I don’t think we should disregard details exclusive to adaptations of dracula and only focus on the original book when thinking about bsd. film adaptations of the book are actually more influential on dracula’s perception in pop-culture than the book itself, so it’s not unlikely that asagiri would reference elements that appeared in adaptations but not the novel.

so, because of “the brides of dracula”, I think it’s quite possible this girl is indeed a bride. she does look a bit young for it, but I’ve seen others say they think she looks older than aya, so I guess that’s subjective (and people would get married younger in bram’s time I suppose).

that doesn’t mean she has to be bram’s bride - again, the “brides” in the original novel have no explicit relation to dracula and could easily be his daughters or sisters, and I really do think her being his daughter instead makes more sense thematically.

part 2: her relation to bram

I believe bram subtly parallels aya’s father in a few ways. aya’s dad is verbally and physically abusive, and he berates aya for not being good at traditionally feminine activities. he doesn’t see her for what she is, a child, and instead expects her to be a perfect traditional woman.

right before we see this flashback, bram is surprised by aya’s age, and comments that she is “too young to even use a spinning wheel” (also a traditionally feminine activity). both of them question aya’s desire/ability to be an ally of justice but for different reasons: aya’s father finds it unladylike while bram finds it too big a task for a little girl (he is also sleepy)

I didn’t understand the point of this scene’s inclusion before, but in retrospect I think it serves as foreshadowing for bram’s flashback and demonstrates how he and aya’s father both associate aya with dead people, but this causes them to treat her differently.

aya will never live up to her father’s expectations because she can’t compete with his idealized memories of the dead. her own accomplishments are irrelevant in his eyes because she isn’t enough like the wife and daughter he lost. I suspect his grief is part of the reason he’s so horrible to her in the first place.

it’s the opposite case with bram. in his eyes aya does compare to someone who he remembers fondly, and the end of 107.5 implies that’s the very reason he’s okay with aya pulling the sword out.

I don’t necessarily see bram as a father figure to aya (to me he’s more of a weird creature who’s sort of grown fond of her after being unwillingly dragged around… but hey, who says that can’t be a dad?) but I do think it’s possible that this mystery girl was bram’s daughter in the past because of how he parallels aya’s father.

(note: she has normal human ears rather than pointy ones, but bram was turned into a vampire by his ability and wasn’t bitten or born as one, so I don’t know if he’d necessarily pass down his vampirism to his children. he also may have developed his ability after becoming a father, or his daughter could even be adopted).

part 3: her relation to aya

the most common idea I’ve seen to explain the resemblance between these two is that aya is a reincarnation of this flashback girl. introducing reincarnation out of nowhere seems a bit random even for bsd, but surprisingly this theory does have some basis.

in the movie bram stoker’s dracula (1992), the character mina harker, jonathan’s fiancé, is a reincarnation of dracula’s long-dead lover, elisabeta. dracula recognizes her as a reincarnation due to their resemblance and mina agrees to assist him, still harboring feelings and memories from her past life. it’s fairly common for dracula adaptations to portray dracula and/or mina as having romantic feelings for each other, but this isn’t really the case in the novel, and elisabeta is entirely an invention of this particular movie.

so, aya being a reincarnation of a girl bram once knew could work as a reference to this. I did say previously that I think it’s possible asagiri will reference adaptations of dracula and not just the novel, but I’m not so sure he would make something specific to one particular adaptation a major part of bram’s backstory.

personally, I’m partial to the idea that aya’s ability will be introduced soon, and her resemblance to this flashback girl may have something to do with it. (the ability idea and reincarnation idea aren’t inherently contradictory, aya’s ability could very well be reincarnation)

this theory by @jo-dieeee suggests that aya’s ability is called mirror, due to the discussion of mirrors in 107.5 and the book above.

mirror: the fiction and essays of koda aya isn’t actually a book written by irl koda, nor is it just a collection of her stories. it was written by ann sherif and discusses koda’s life and works, including some translations of her short stories in the second part. however, the existence of this book and aya emphasizing mirrors in 107.5 is quite an interesting coincidence! whether or not it’s called mirror, I’m fairly confident an ability reveal is coming up.

it’s also worth bringing up that aya’s resemblance to this mystery firl might not have a supernatural explanation at all. it could easily be an artistic choice simply made to indicate that bram is reminiscing about someone who aya reminds him of. I’m not too into the reincarnation idea myself.

[flamboyantly-incompetent]

OoTP, Chapter 4 - Choosing Sides

Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader

Warnings: vague hints at abusive parents (I mean it's Lucius Malfoy)

Masterlist

Word Count: 4291

After Herbology, you tried to catch Draco on his way out.  He seemed preoccupied, and his friends trailed behind him, guffawing over some trinket they tossed back and forth, but he ignored them and you.  They turned away from the castle and you gave up; it wasn’t worth it being late to Potions.

Perhaps you could write him a letter and send it in the post, you thought, absentmindedly stirring the contents of your cauldron.  That should be discreet enough.  It still irked you that you couldn’t just talk to him like a person, but in all truth, you didn’t really want people knowing you were associating with each other either.  He had something of a reputation.

Though by the end of Double Potions you had formulated a plan, as you left the classroom you caught a glimpse of that unmistakable silver hair and green robes turning a corner down the corridor.  You pretended to have left your quill behind, and peeled off from your friends and the stream of students heading to lunch.  The soft pattering of your shoes on the cold stone floor must’ve given you away, for when you turned that same corner, Draco was leaning against the wall, arms folded, waiting for you.

“Why are you following me?”  He looked somewhat harried; his hair hung slightly awry, and the shirt under his sweater vest was uncharacteristically wrinkled.

You stopped, confused.  “I wanted to talk without having to send you a notarized letter.”  His eyes narrowed.  “I had just forgotten that this weekend was Hogsmeade, and I wondered if we could push our meeting to Sunday.”

“Oh.  Sure that’s fine.”  He paused, weighing his words.  “I actually, uh, I’ve changed my mind.  I’ve decided I’d like to work for the Ministry, so I won’t need Herbology after all, so don’t worry about it.”

“What are you talking about?  Is this because I want to reschedule?”

“Don’t be daft,” he snapped.  “I can’t really picture myself doing something so undignified, working for goblins.  The Ministry will be a much better fit for someone of my family’s standing.”

“I see,” you said quietly, taken aback by the venom in his words.

Draco continued quickly, “It’s just that I’ll have more important, more relevant things to focus on, and-and-and you probably do too.”

You nodded curtly, “We agreed we wouldn’t be friends.  You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”  You paused before turning on your heel, “Good luck.”

Saturday morning came early, Wilbur purring on your chest with his wet nose sniffing at your closed eyes.

“Cat, one day you’re going to startle me so much I throw you off this bed, and it’ll be no one’s fault but yours.”  He sat up, tail curled regally around him, waiting.  “I can’t give you treats if you’re on top of me.  Yes, yes I know.”  You threw back the bed curtains and glanced at the enchanted windows.  It was still somehow before dawn; everyone else was still asleep.  You tsked at Wilbur, setting two treats beside him on your bed, and dressed quietly.  You eased your broom out from under your bed and slunk out of your dormitory, then through the round painting door.

Almost a full week into October, the pre-dawn air was bracing as it whipped around you and your broom.  The Quidditch pitch was deserted, thankfully, as it was the only area that allowed unsupervised flying on the whole grounds.  There was nothing you wanted more than to fly through the trees and over the lake, but if anyone caught you they’d confiscate the broom and dock enough points to earn side-eyes until Christmas.  So instead, you circled the pitch as fast as you could go, ignoring the stiff chill in your fingers as they gripped the broom handle. Patches of muddy ground spun by faster and faster until the whole world seemed brown.

“Y/N?”  Your concentration broken, you yelped and had to pull up hard to keep yourself from ramming into a tower.  On the ground, Yvette stood at the ready, broom in one hand and quaffle tucked neatly under the other arm.  She kicked off and met you in the air.  “Something you wanna talk about?”

“Not really.  You don’t get enough fly time during practice?”

She shrugged.  “I got into the habit, you know?  After, I’m awake, and I feel better.  You wanna run some passes with me?”

“Shoot, what time is it?”  You’d forgotten about Hogsmeade, and the Hog’s Head, and Harry Potter.  The sun was peeking over the trees, casting shadows with the tops of each tower on the pitch.

“Seven thirty, why?”

“I wanted to go to Hogsmeade today, but I can play for an hour.”

Yvette grinned and tossed you the quaffle.  For whatever reason, completing random passes and scoring against imaginary opponents did a much better job of settling your mind than speed-flying in circles, although it was clear from the onset Yvette’s talent far out paced your own.

“You’ve gotten good at this,” you remarked breathily, touching down.

She scoffed, “I was always good, I just got better.  So, no tutoring today?”

“Huh?”

“Your Slytherin, you aren’t sneaking off to tutor them?”

You bit your lip, the secret, evidently, out.  “Donna told you?”

“You didn’t think she would?  She tells everyone everything.  Besides, three mornings in a row you don’t come to breakfast?  We were bound to know something was up.  So, you aren’t meeting them today?  Or are you meeting them in Hogsmeade?”

You snorted at the thought of being seen with Draco Malfoy anywhere but a classroom.  “No, no I’m just meeting up with Ginny and Luna.  Besides,” you stretched your arms up, thinking how to phrase it, “I’m not tutoring the Slytherin anymore, they didn’t need much help.”  She shot you a sidelong glance but didn’t press the issue.  

“What about you?  No Hogsmeade today?”

“Can’t, I’m behind on Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts and I do not want Umbridge or McGonagall cross with me.”

“Fair enough.  I’ll get you something from Honey Dukes?”

“Yes, please.”

Filch was in an uncharacteristically chipper mood as he snatched permission forms from nervous third years, grinning maniacally all the while.  You couldn’t decide if it was better or worse than the alternative, and an uncomfortable thought crossed your mind.  What did willingly keeping on such a dour sadist, one seemingly convinced torture was a reasonable punishment for misbehaving children, say about Dumbledore?  An uncomfortable thought, no doubt.

Across the courtyard, Ginny was holding hands with her newest boyfriend, who laughed abruptly at something she said.  A twinge of jealousy spun in your gut.  Ginny was, in a word, cool.  Funny, talented, witty, and quite genuine, it was difficult not to like her.  There was certainly a reason she was popular.

You looked around for Luna.  She, on the other hand, often gave the impression that she could be perfectly content to never speak to another person ever again.  You’d asked her once, unsure, if your presence was wanted at all.  She’d assured you that she quite enjoyed the company in her typical lilting, ethereal tone.  Finally, you spotted her at the edge of the courtyard on a stone bench, sitting with impeccable posture and clearly thinking deeply about one thing or another. She rose smoothly when you approached, smiling faintly as that faraway look refocused on you.

“Hey Luna,” you began, “Do you mind if I join you for the morning?”  The crowd began to filter out and down the road to Hogsmeade.  

She nodded gently, “I’m headed to Gladrags - all of my socks are infested with wrackspurt eggs.”  She lifted her pant leg to show a sockless foot sitting loosely in a shoe.  “They are an endangered species, after all.”

“Sure, sure.  My mum loves those, I can get her an early Christmas gift.”  Luna’s penchant for rare and less-than-discovered creatures, while unusual, never phased you too much.  After all, if you ever met an umgubular slashkilter you’d know how to keep it from tearing your throat out, thanks to her.

The morning sun was bright and warm and, thankfully, at your backs as you marched down the road with your classmates.  Chimney smoke peeked over the hills in a haze, and before long the village was in sight.  You happily followed Luna into Gladrags Wizardwear, where she found a number of socks you knew she’d never wear as pairs, and you picked out a pair that changed patterns with the weather for your mother.  Afterwards, you still had an hour to kill so you opted for Honeydukes.  Acid pops for Yvette, a cauldron cake for Herbert, and a box of liquorice wands for Donna, and Luna sat with you outside as you split a pumpkin pastie.

It was finally warm, and a little uncomfortably so, most of the students that passed you had their coats off and tied around their waists.  A group of third years were gushing loudly about the shrieking shack, each walking with a varied spring in their step.  Across the cobbled street, the door to the hairdresser’s, Clifford’s Scissors, opened and the bell chimed brightly.  Out came Draco Malfoy.

Oh, come on.  Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice you, but Luna did.  

She followed your sour gaze and said, “I hear his father is visiting Hogwarts tomorrow.  It is curious why he should appear now of all times.”

You swallowed a mouthful of pumpkin pastie.  “What do you mean?”

“He works very closely with the Ministry.  No one ever invites him, he just announces his arrival.”

“Ah,” you said.  That certainly made some things clearer.

Luna glanced up at the sun.  “It’s almost noon.  Let’s go.”  You picked up the box of candy for your friends and followed her down the road.  Very far down the road.  Almost to the end of the road.  You would’ve thought it was a mistake if there weren’t so many other students you recognized.

Inside the Hog’s Head was… gross.  You wrinkled your nose reflexively.  You sat next to Luna and glanced around.  Harry Potter stood next to one of Ginny’s older brothers (was it Roland?) at the bar with Hermione Granger.  His expression seemed more and more morose with ever new student that came through the door.  You waved to a few Hufflepuffs as they came in, but the group was mostly Gryffindor.  Which, you supposed, made some amount of sense.  Two of Ginny’s other older brothers, whose names you knew because of how often Filch said them like a curse, went around handing everyone a butterbeer.  You took a mug from one of them, you couldn’t tell which, in exchange for two Sickles.  The group sat quietly, gingerly sipping butterbeer from cloudy mugs, waiting.

Finally, the trio sat down, and Hermione began speaking.  She covered essentially what Ginny had said in the hallway a few days ago, but you watched Harry’s face.  She finished with, “I want to be properly trained in Defense because… because Lord Voldemort’s back.”

A palpable shiver coursed through the room, one girl actually screamed a little, which you found rather dramatic.  Zacharias immediately asked for proof.  You leaned forward.  Although you wouldn’t have put it the way he did, you were still torn over who to believe.  Harry scowled, and his answer was unsatisfying, but he still didn’t seem to be lying.  In fact, he seemed quite humble even as Zacharias continued to prod him.  You understood, though he began to grate on your nerves as well.  In the end, you put your name on the list like everyone else, excited and nervous to actually learn something useful.  Before passing it on you glanced through the names discreetly.  Ron.  That’s his name.

The next day was a long slog in the library, oscillating between Transfiguration and Arithmancy homework, and wondering whether Draco Malfoy’s father had arrived at the school yet.  And what his purpose was.  Could it be solely to dissuade his only son from a career deemed beneath him?  It occurred to you that the Malfoys were a step above simply rich - it wasn’t as if they were working for the Galleons.  You looked out the great stained glass windows flanking the door periodically, earning you some quizzical looks from Yvette.  Evening rolled around, with not a single sign of silver hair, and you found yourself in the common room, enjoying the enchanted breeze and the warm glow of the fire, surrounded by candy wrappers, as you watched Donna crush Yvette in Wizard’s Chess.  The round painting door swung open to allow a racket of overlapping voices to spill in, followed by Ernie and Hannah, Zacharias hot on their heels.  They made a bee line for the notice board and pinned something on it.

“What’s this about?” you asked, walking over.

Zacharias turned sharply, agitated, “The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts has disbanded all organizations, societies, teams, groups and clubs.”  You shared a look with the three of them, all having been present in the Hog’s Head, and remembered your friends’ presence.  He continued, “That means-”

“Quidditch,” you interrupted.

“Yes,” he said slowly, “Quidditch.  Which we will have to beg her to let us play otherwise we’ll be expelled.” Your mouth ran dry.

Yvette piped up, “What?!  She can’t be serious.”

“Can’t she?” Hannah said sourly.

“I’ll go to her office first thing in the morning,” Zacharias assured Yvette, “hopefully we haven’t done anything to upset her.”

That night, sleep did not come easy.  Learning practical skills was one thing, but being expelled for it was entirely another.  Although, if Voldemort really had returned as Harry and his friends believed, Ernie had been right when he said that this was more important than anything else you could do this year.  

You jumped a little, startled, when Wilbur’s furry mass appeared next to your head.  He settled himself at your feet, stepping heavily on your stomach as he went.  

If Voldemort really had returned, expulsion was a minor issue.  You thought of Donna and Yvette, both muggle born, and your dad.  If Voldemort really had returned someone was going to have to fight.  And it couldn’t just be Harry Potter.

As it turned out, Umbridge was only interested in keeping the Gryffindor team in suspense, as you heard from Yvette that the Hufflepuff Quidditch team had been reinstated rather breezily when Zacharias asked.  The fate of Harry Potter’s ‘study group’ remained uncertain, however, and the week trudged on with no news.  

Herbology passed without incident, though you kept stealing glances at Draco to see how he was doing.  By the end of class, his face was red and his eyebrows drawn, but the fanged geranium sat in a pot littered with small, shiny buttons with its toothy maw hanging open, clearly pleased with the trade.  Your own geranium was resting comfortably as you made up limericks on the spot, its own jaw growing looser with every word.  

By the end of the week though, you noticed a number of students you recognized from the Hog’s Head, whispering amongst themselves at dinner.  You hung back when your friends left for the common room, claiming to still be hungry.  Almost immediately, Harry Potter and Ginny’s brother appeared next to the Hufflepuff table.

Ron began, speaking softly, “We’ve found a spot.”

“Oh, good, I was beginning to wonder,” you trailed off.

Harry glanced around, “Tonight, eight o’clock, seventh floor.  Opposite the tapestry of Barn-”

“Barnabas the Barmy.  Got it.”

They nodded conspiratorially and were on their way.  Great.  Now you’d just have to hope no one asked you where you had been all night, and that no one would ever ask you that again.   It wasn’t that you didn’t trust your friends, but none of you had exactly made it clear to the others what was believed about the whole thing.  And then you’d gone to the meeting, and then you’d put your name down, like joining a secret society.  Should you have included them?  It was risky, to them and to the rest, the more people that knew of the whole thing.  You’d just have to come up with something decent later.

By the time the meeting was over, it was past curfew.  You’d dueled for over an hour with Ernie Macmillan, who seemed more concerned with performing intimidating wand patterns than actually disarming you, so when the DA split up into small groups to go back to their common rooms you ended up with him.  Both prefects for each house represented were in attendance, so they sent out a small group, then a prefect, then a small group, then the other prefect - so that if any were caught, it would look like they’d simply been sent back to their dormitories by the correct authority.

You walked along the dark corridors, enthusing quietly about the whole thing.  Ernie had sustained a small bruise next to his left eye from one of the Creevey’s antics, but he matched your enthusiasm.

Ernie knocked on the great round wooden door, and it swung open quietly, the warm breezes of the common room greeting you.  

Donna looked up from the roll of parchment she stared at hopelessly by the fireplace to watch Ernie bid you a pontifical goodnight.  She waved you over.  “Where have you been?” she asked once you’d sat down.

“Just some studying.”

She gave you a suspicious once-over.  “You’d tell me if you were dating Ernie Macmillan, right?”

You chortled abruptly, the notion absurd and hilarious.  “I would tell you, but I wouldn’t date Ernie Macmillan.  I, uh, ran into him and we got to talking about Transfiguration and we lost track of time.”

“Uh huh,” she said, slowly.  It was unclear whether she fully believed your explanation, but she dropped the subject regardless.  “Well I’ve been sat here since supper working on the Pepperup Potion essay.  So now that you’re back from studying you could help me study.”

“OK, but you have to proofread my essay for Umbridge.”

“Hand it over.”  

There was an unspoken agreement between Draco and yourself to avoid each other indefinitely, broken only after a Herbology lesson on puffapods, during which Draco had forced a spore cloud from the poor thing so large that he and his two friends fainted immediately.  Professor Sprout conscripted you to revive them; a ground mixture of ginger soaked in spirits and petals from the offending puffapod did the trick.  The large boy on the left, you learned his name was Crabbe, startled awake red faced and ready for action.  He looked around sheepishly and shoved your mortar bowl away from his face.  The other one, Goyle, opened his eyes but continued to snore.

You had to shoo away some Slytherin girl who had begun shaking his shoulders, then you held the bowl under Draco’s nose, arm stretched to leave as much room between you as possible.  He looked uncharacteristically peaceful, aside from the green-brown dust that discolored his pale forehead.  His eyes fluttered open, and for a second you thought you could back away before he was truly lucid, but then his cold grey eyes focused on you and narrowed. 

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked, getting to his feet in a hurry.  Crabbe and Goyle immediately began dusting off his robes.

You opened your mouth to speak, but Crabbe beat you to it.  “You fainted.  The bloody plant-”

“Get off me.”  He shooed away his lackeys, the rest of the class still staring, the Slytherin girl looking like she’d launch herself at him at her first opportunity.  “I’m fine.”  He did not ask about his friends.

Professor Sprout tried to continue the lesson, but between the constant thrum of quiet gossip and careless handling of the puffapods, it became clear that three people fainting had caused too much excitement.  She sighed and said, “Class dismissed.  I want a foot of parchment on the proper handling of puffapods due next lesson.  Miss Y/L/N, Mr. Malfoy.  If I could have your attention for a moment.  Misters Crabbe and Goyle, you can go.”  She put her hands on her hips and waited for you to approach her.  “Now, am I to understand that you are no longer being tutored, Mr. Malfoy?”  He shook his head, and she turned to you.  “Would you care to tell me why that is?”

Draco interrupted, “I’ve decided I’d rather work with the Ministry.  So I won’t need a Herbology OWL.”

A look of disappointment passed over her face.  “Even so, I can’t imagine you’re happy with such unsatisfactory work.”  Draco’s expression soured.  “Professor Snape has told me what a skilled brewer you are, but let me tell you something.  The best potions can only be brewed, not bought - and that requires the brewer to appraise high quality ingredients.  Which, can you guess, requires a good understanding of what we do in this class.”  Draco deflated a bit, and focused his gaze on his shoes.  “Y/N, that was quick thinking with the ginger - ten points to Hufflepuff.  Why did you have it on hand?”

“Oh, I, uh, I have Potions right after this.”

She gestured to you as if to say there, see what I’m saying?  Her posture softened; her fists uncurled and came to rest at her sides.  “I imagine you are still willing to tutor Mr. Malfoy?”  His gaze snapped to you, his expression unreadable.  

You only hesitated a moment, after all he wasn’t particularly pleasant, but you had improved significantly in Transfiguration all thanks to his brief instruction.  You nodded your head definitively.

Professor Sprout smiled, her cheeks turning rosy again.  “I can’t force you, Mr. Malfoy, but you should consider it.  Now, off you pop!”  She wrote you both notes in case you were late, which you knew you would be, and herded you out of the greenhouse into the cold October sun.

Draco resumed ignoring you, until you stepped into the castle and he said, still not looking at you, “Saturday?”

“Quidditch pitch?”

He nodded.  “I’ll bring the hedgehog.”

“I’ll bring some books,” you finished, and you parted ways in front of the massive fireplace.

Professor Snape was not happy when you arrived at Potions.  “Miss Y/L/N, late again?”

You held out the note.  “I am sorry, Professor.  I do have a note this time.”  He took it unceremoniously, his hooded eyes inspecting Professor Sprout’s signature.  He glanced at you appraisingly, then gestured for you to sit down so he could continue his lesson on Beautification Potion.

Once again, you trudged down the path to the Quidditch pitch far too early on a Saturday.  Draco had already set up the Slytherin themed quilt and his portable fireplace, he was hastily drying some patches of melted frost around the edges of the space.  His back was to you, and hadn’t seemed to notice your arrival, so you set the stack of books you carried down gently and slid the box presumably containing McGonagall’s hedgehog towards you.  He remembered you, apparently, and didn’t protest when you scooped him up and sat him in your lap to wait for Draco to notice you.

“Sicco,” he muttered under his breath.  He checked the watch on his wrist and turned around.  You grinned, and he yelped when he saw you; his eyes narrowed.  “How long have you been sitting there?”

You scratched the hedgehog’s back lightly.  “Only a bit.  We had to get reacquainted.”

His eyebrows knit together.  “I saw you three days ago.”

“I was talking about the hedgehog.”

“Oh, well.  That does make more sense.”  He sat down across from you, apparently satisfied with his handiwork.  “I, uh, just wanted you to know that I-”

“You don’t have to apologize, and we don’t have to talk about it.”

“I was going to tell you not to apologize.”

“Me?  Apologize for what?”

“For humiliating me in front of an entire classroom, obviously!”

Your face turned hot.  “You fainted!  What was I supposed to do?”

He crossed his arms, his face equally inflamed.  “Well you didn’t have to come rushing into save me like I was some helpless child.”

“It’s not my fault you ignore Professor Sprout’s instructions.  Would you have preferred to be carried off to the hospital wing?  Your friends fainted too, you know, you could try caring about someone other than yourself.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

You gaped at him.  “Everything!  You and your friends fainted.  During class.  And you’re so concerned with appearances you can’t even acknowledge that someone might do something nice for you just for the sake of it.”  You stopped, surprised.  “That’s what this is about, isn’t it?  You think I’m going to want something from you.  Right?”  He shrugged.  “Bloody hell.”  You set the hedgehog down and stood up to pace.

Draco rolled his eyes.  “Look, I’m… I’m sorry.  Ok?  I keep forgetting I can’t treat you like them.”

You stopped to glare at him, refused to be appeased by what very well may have been the first time he’d apologized for anything in his life.  “Like who?”

“Crabbe and Goyle.”

“Why would you treat your friends like this anyway?”

“Well, they’re not really friends.  Our families go way back, so they’re more like colleagues.”

“That’s ridiculous.”  He shrugged.  You sat back down and pulled the hedgehog back into your lap.  “So, the Ministry, huh?  What would you be doing for them?”  He looked at you suspiciously.  “Fine, don’t tell me.  I just hope it was your idea, and not your dad’s.  We’ve got a lot of work to do.”  You dropped the stack of books you brought into his lap and pointed at the one on top.

[imdoingsortagay]

Pervy Manager!Nat headcanons

this is so short but so gay 

18+post below no minors,

reblogs are appreciated!!!

Warnings: workplace abuse of power, Pervy!Nat, oral( Nat r), smut, Perverted thoughts, 

Getting a job at Stark industries after graduating college 

Feeling nervous when you walk into your interview but are greeted by a welcoming Natasha who informs you she’s the main manager in the company

Natasha using this as an opportunity to check you out, think so many nasty thoughts while you ramble away

Hiring you right away even tho Pepper told her to interview everyone and vouching for you

Being put by the managers office because “ it’s be easier to get in contact with each other”. 

complimenting you over everything

Praising you to make you blush

Saying sexual things in her native tongue but you think she’s being so sweet ( also nobody in the office knows Russian sooooo)

Telling you how “ it’s so unfortunate a pretty girl like you doesn’t have people lining up to be with you”

TOUCHY SO TOUCHY 

Pet Names to the max especially

The trope where an elevator is full and Nat makes her way behind you, sneakily touching your hips, whatever she can to be fair

telling you how to do everything step by step

“ Honey, i told you i’d be helping you with anything that you need and i meant it” 

She’s obsessed with seeing you wear skirts at work

Will fuck herself in her office while looking at you as she has her own space while you have a cubical nearby her. 

Your cubicle neighbor Maria talking about how you’re Natasha’s little pet which goes over your head.

When she sees you bonding with Maria, she moves her to a different area of the building.

“ we wouldn’t want the new rookie to get distracted would we ?”

if you wear a lowcut shirt, Natasha will take the opportunity to stare while you work. 

Fixing up your clothes a bit as “ just woman looking out for woman” 

really she’s trying to take pictures of what’s under your skirt for later at home. 

A whole folder dedicated to pictures of you that she will fuck herself to at home, in her office in a way she won’t get caught, even in the office bathroom too, Girlie does not care since Pepper respects her a lot to actually fire her.

Natasha bringing you as a plus one to a stark Gala

internally going crazy over the dress you wore 

going back home with Maria to fuck her but only thinking of you as she fucks her friend roughly

Making a plan to get you to be only hers

Having you stay late night in the office to work on a new project that Pepper requested. 

Natasha insisting she sit next to you, which in turn makes you blush like crazy

“ Darling we haven’t even started working and you’re blushing, so so cute” 

Her hand on your thigh while working, just rubbing it and acting like nothings wrong. 

When she sees you squirm, she moves her hand up higher as you explain everything about the project right. 

“ Miss Romanoff what are you doing?” 

She keeps teasing you while you quietly moan as her hand moves closer to your core. 

“ Can’t wait to fuck your pretty little body, you want Mommy to make you feel good down there? Surely you must feel the same way i have “

Once you say that OH MY GOD SHE WOULD BE ROUGH 

Having you eat her cunt out on your knees, grabbing your hair to keep you in place. 

taking pictures for her phone,videos too and degrading the f outta you

“ Dirty whore making mommy feel so good, fuck i can’t wait to fuck that cunt of yours. 

That night, Natasha makes you her cute little pet that she can use however she likes

[whatiswrongwithpeople]

The overwhelming sensation of spice

Tangerine x reader / Tangerine x female!OC (Codename: Tabasco)

A/N: Well hello there again my fellow mustache fruit enthusiasts! Thank you all for your incredible support on my work so far ! This is once again a Tangerine x Tabasco story. Just a little warning, I wrote this at 2am in my notes app and it’s not proof read.

Summary: The brothers are on a mission to retrieve a key from a target, but they don’t seem to be the only ones assigned to the mission

Note: No use of Y/N , reader’s codename is Tabasco , quite a bit of cursing in this one

Hope you enjoy! 🧡🍊 (also feel free to check out my other Bullet Train/ Tangerine x Reader aka Tabasco work)

Edit: I wrote some brief HCs for the aftermath of this story https://whatiswrongwithpeople.tumblr.com/post/692961985773568000/the-aftermath-of-the-overwhelming-sensation-of

This certainly was neither Lemon’s nor Tangerine’s scene. Around them were various people , dressed in their fanciest attire, clad in jewellery which was probably more worth than anything the brothers have ever owned. The walls around them were made out of marble , various paintings in heavy golden frames decorating them and in the middle of the room was a huge crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The light dim but yet bright enough to make each and every expensive treasure in the room sparkle and shine. “There is no way these people will buy this shit.” Lemon muttered through gritted teeth , stretching his arms to show off the suit he was wearing. The suit was by no means cheap , but compared to what the other guests were wearing , Lemon looked like a goldfish in a coral reef. Unspectacular, out of place and simply underwhelming. “Aaah , come on bruv.” Tangerine huffed , throwing a glance over his shoulder , adjusting the sleeves of his blue suit “ I think we look quite dashing.” Turning his head back around , his smirk is met with Lemon’s arched eyebrow and a deadly stare,followed by a grumpy “Fuck off.” Opening his mouth for a snarky comeback, Tangerine’s phone rings and without even looking at the caller’s ID he accepts the call. “The target has arrived , he is wearing a red velvet suit. I want you to extract that key from him, dead or alive.” Without any further instructions the phone line goes dead. Glancing around the room in search for the target , Tangerine leans towards his brother, whispering “Key’s on a red velvet guy.” He can feel his brother’s eyes on him. “A fucking mission for a key. I sure hope that thing is actually important.” “Well, it surely won’t be the key for the lock to his fucking bicycle.” The brunette mutters ,meeting Lemon’s gaze for a second before straightening his posture, ready to get the job done. Finding their target turned out to be the easiest part of their task. Not only because the bright red velvet suit was quite a bold fashion statement , but also because the man seemed to love mingling with each and every single one of the guests at the gala. The latter though was a problem because getting the man alone or pulling him away from the crowd simply seemed to be impossible. “He’s leaving the room.” “What?” Tangerine whipped around , facing his brother who seemingly just spawned next to him at the bar. “He’s leaving the room with a chick on his arm.” Lemon pointed out , subtly nudging his head to the right. And indeed Mr. Velvet Suit was on his way to one of the backrooms of the gallery , a woman confidently walking right next to him. And if it wasn’t for the importance of the mission, or rather the importance of the money it would bring into the brothers‘ bank account, Tangerine would have allowed himself to take in her form just a little bit longer. Noticing the hungry and slightly dazed look in his brother’s gaze , Lemon smirked, deciding to give his brother a little bit longer to collect his seemingly reeling thoughts. After a few seconds , he raised his hand , clapping the brunette man on the shoulder. ”So , what‘s the plan?“ Clearing his throat, Tangerine turned to him. ”I think the room they are retreating to is showcasing some old Roman artefacts. We‘ll give them a minute and then go in there , pretending to be interested im whatever shit is put on display and when the moment is right , we take on that bastard and get that fucking key.“ Letting his hand drop from Tangerine‘s shoulder , Lemon throws him another deadly stare. ”I don‘t know shit about the Romans , man. “ Shrugging, Tangerine answers “Me neither , but they are long dead , so it’s not like any Romans can judge us, right ?” Glancing at the watch on his wrist, he motions for Lemon to start with the plan.

But before the two men can enter the gallery’s backroom , they hear the all too familiar noise of a fight, crashing and yelps indicating that someone is currently struggling. Turning the corner , the brothers can finally see who exactly is causing the noise. The man in the red velvet suit stands pressed against one of the glass display cases, his back slightly arching over its sharp corner. Keeping him in place is the mysterious woman, one leg slung around his,pressing herself against him whilst twisting the heavy golden necklace the man is wearing around his neck in a tight grip, pulling his head backwards, making him claw at his throat for air. Her free hand traveled seductively over the man’s chest, sly fingers quickly finding the inside pocket of his suit jacket and retrieving the key which was safely tucked away right there. Caught in a trance , the brothers can’t help but to watch how the woman places a kiss onto the target’s jawline, her lips trailing their path up to his ear, only pulling away to whisper “I am sure there are women out there who’d love to be with an arrogant asshole such as you, but too bad I don’t really care about all of that.” And before either of the brothers could jump into action, she forcefully yanked back the necklace within her grip even further, removing her body weight from the target’s , making the man crash down onto the glass display, his body slumping to the floor like a rag doll. Taking a step back she secured the key onto her necklace , safely tucking it into her neckline, and threw one final glance towards the target‘s body. A genuine sigh escaping her lips , when she nudges the red clad man with her foot. „I actually prefer blue.“

Upon hearing the clicking sound of a gun being loaded she swiftly whips around, successfully knocking out one of her attackers , by throwing some artefact right at his head. Holding his gun steady , Tangerine eyes his unconscious brother, feeling anger burning inside his veins. “You fucking bitch!” But before his eyes can meet the woman’s form , he feels the cold material of a metal necklace around his throat. Has he been watching his brother that long? His breathing is cut short and he is knocked onto his knees, his gun slightly wavering in his still aiming hand. “Actually,” the face of the woman comes into sight in the very corner of his eye , leaning around his shoulder “the name is Tabasco. Little Bitch was already taken , unfortunately.” Tangerine would never admit it , but her voice sent a shiver down his back right then and there. Suddenly, Tabasco stepped in front of im, knocked the gun out of his hand and kicked it to the other end of the room. Oh , Tangerine knew he should be worried, maybe even come up with an escape route but no matter how hard he tried , the only route he could trace was the one from Tabasco’s heel up to her thigh exposed by the slit in her dress. He was doomed. He would NEVER admit it. But oh he was doomed and he knew it. The sensation of two fingers on his chin snapped him out of his thoughts. Tabasco was now standing right in front of him , still strangling him with the necklace, tilting his head upwards to meet her gaze. He let his hungry eyes slowly travel her curves , taking in every inch of her until their eyes lock. Time seemed to stand still, there he was, knocked down onto his knees , strangled by the very woman who just prevented him and his brother from getting one of the biggest pay-checks they have received in months and yet somehow , in the most confusing and infuriating way, it just felt right to him. Tangerine has no idea how much time passed and to be honest he doesn’t really want to know about how long exactly he failed to defend himself, when suddenly the pressure around his neck lessens until it is completely gone. Panting and confused he looks back up at Tabasco. The woman only smirks , her eyes traveling his form, before she reaches down and adjusts the collar of his baby blue shirt. Meeting his gaze for the last time she smiles, “See, I always preferred blue.” And with that she takes a step back and turns around, leaving behind an unconscious Lemon and a taken aback Tangerine. Calling over her shoulder, “Maybe you should suggest your boss to add a little bit of spice to the team next time you’re sent on a mission!” , before she disappears into the darkness of the hallway.

[teecupangel]

Submitted by @saberamane

I’ve spent WAAAAYYYY too long thinking about this, so I figured I’d share.

A modern day AC AU where Desmond is a bartender at a high end strip club. Altair, Ezio, and Ratonhnhaké:ton are, of course, dancers. Altair starts out as his arrogant AC1 self, he has a nice body and knows it. Ezio is, of course, flirty and loves the attention dancing gets him. He doesn’t actually need the money seeing as his family is filthy rich. Meanwhile Ratonhnhaké:ton is dancing ONLY for the money. He’s quiet but perceptive, typically steering clear of Altair as he can be quite snooty, and Ezio because his flagrant flirting makes Ratonhnhaké:ton uncomfortable.

Desmond, while an experienced bartender, is new to the establishment. And within a month of his employment all three dancers come to the same conclusion.

They need to get Desmond to agree to a date.

Now I’m thinking this evolves into a harem situation, where at first all three want to date Desmond, then are trying to out compete each other for Desmond’s affections, and in the end all 4 of them are dating each other.

Also I was thinking of a schedule for the club, lol. It’d be a mixed club, so men and woman dancers, servers, bartenders, and clientele. Mondays are men only nights, so only men are working the club and only men are allowed in. A sort of ‘gay’ night, if you will. Likewise, Wednesdays are woman only, or 'lesbian’ night. Fridays are themed, which is posted the Monday before on their website. The theme can be anything, and while clientele are encouraged to also dress in the theme, it’s not mandatory, but the workers of the club have to dress as the theme. Some examples would be like holidays, Halloween, Christmas, valentines, st Patrick’s day, etc. And then Sunday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday are mixed crowds with the dancers allowed to do their own routines.

And I’m going to stop there, because I’ve already put too much thought into a fiction idea I probably won’t ever write due to time constraints lol.

=================

Addition from teecup:

I kinda like the idea that Desmond’s old bartending job is actually Bad Weather and he had to find a new one because Bad Weather got into… well… let’s just say it’s under investigation by the cops at the moment. The detective on the case was like “Don’t skip town for now, kid. Sure, you’re clean but it’ll look bad if you just leave while we’re investigating and shit” and Desmond got a job in the high end strip club because he has no other option. (And the pay was better than all the other options he had)

The owner looked super young to be the owner of a strip club but Desmond isn’t going to ask any questions at all and just goes to work in the high end strip club called “Thousand Eyes”.

And, ohohoho, he has been a bartender for a long time now so he knows when someone is attracted to him. All three of the best dancers being attracted to him?

Desmond didn’t like playing the field or even just leading someone on but her co-bartender Layla (a college student working there to pay for college) was like “No, no, this is pure entertainment gold, man. As long as you’re upfront about the whole ‘yeah, you three are thirsty for my dick’ (Layla!), you’ll be fine.” and well… Desmond didn’t really had any say about the matter in the end because Ezio goaded Altaïr and that turned into a competition between them which Ratonhnhaké:ton gets roped into. Desmond actually felt bad for Ratonhnhaké:ton until he realized that Ratonhnhaké:ton was just as competitive as the two and, really, having the attention of three hot men were too much for Desmond. He was only human and Layla was the devil on his shoulder pushing him to the dark side and yeah…

Desmond decided to milk it.

It backfired and he fell in love with all three of them instead.

Fuck.

Unorganized Notes:

Shaun is the accountant of the strip club. He comes every few weeks and always leaves slightly buzzed after hearing the latest ‘competition’ for Desmond’s hand. (Desmond is sure Shaun is living vicariously thru him… but he’s not going to say that out loud)

Layla is the main bartender for the woman only days and she’s an engineering student. She has a girlfriend named Deanna who likes to come to the club and watch her girlfriend get flirted with by other people. Desmond likes to joke it’s a voyeur thing, Layla keeps telling him that he’s not using the right word.

Clay is also a bartender and is in charge of the website and social media accounts of the strip club. On the side, he has a discord server where he talks about the shenanigans the three go to just to catch Desmond’s attention and people in his discord (which pretty much includes the regulars and some of the employees except the three idiots and the object of their affection) love it. He’s the sole reason why the strip club has an online shipping war going on and he’s milking it because of the whole ‘support your bias by coming to the club!’ posts.

Desmond has no idea who makes the ‘menu’ for private dances but he thinks they are either a genius who wishes to remain anonymous or they’re hiding their identity because they know they’re gonna get killed because some of the menu names are ‘Brotherly Love’ for requesting Malik and Kadar at the same time, ‘Trust Fund Babes’ for requesting Arno and Ezio together, and, Desmond’s favorite that he will never say out loud, ‘Repressed Catholic Special (10% off if you show your rosary)’ that is actually just Altaïr but he gets to order the customer around for the entire time.

Lots of customers want Evie to step on them (of all genders).

I feel like Jacob’s gonna have the most elaborate Magic Mike numbers for some reason.

Shao Jun has the most acrobatic set pieces and hers usually get a lot of applause because she’s a really great dancer.

Ezio’s family knows he’s a stripper and they just… let him do whatever he wants. The one time Claudia shows up in the club, Ezio actually messes his dance because “Jesus Fuck, that’s my sister!” and Claudia is like “Noooo, eeewwww, that’s my brother!”. She would sometimes show up when she knows Ezio won’t be dancing. To be sure, she always texts Ezio: “any chance I’ll see your ugly ass tonight?” and Ezio would always text back “Claudia! Stop texting me like this! People will get the wrong idea!” then text a few seconds later “No. Have fun. Make sure to tip well.”

Nikolai is the main bouncer. Cross is also a bouncer but he can get a bit too violent at times so he’s only allowed to work if Nikolai, his uncle, works with him.

Arbaaz is the father of Jayadeep who is also a stripper in the club. Arbaaz does not know about his son’s ‘part-time job’.

You know in some cabaret clubs, they actually have a wall of “top ‘employees’ of the month” and it’s ranking the top 10 for that month and I kinda think Reda would do the same because he knows many of his employees are competitive idiots.

The usual top one is Bayek, hands down. He goes to stage, people start throwing money.

… Is it too much if the ‘menu’ name for Alexios and Kassandra is ‘I Would Like One Bisexual Awakening’?

Eivor’s the only stripper that dances for both women only and men only days.

The Borgias are regulars. They tip well but they’re very handsy. They all favor Ezio.

… It would be funny if Abbas was in the corner, shades on, with a cap and being totally weird and out of place. Desmond sees him the first time and asks Clay if they should be worried about that dude in the corner. Clay goes “Naaahh, he’s harmless. I mean, he’s a weirdo that gets off getting ignored by Altaïr during his stage time but… harmless.”

You know what, all Templars are regulars and they favor the Assassin that killed them in canon (oh god, should… should we include Vidic thirsting over Desmond???)

Sidenote: I feel you. With the upcoming August megaposting this year, I’m scrambling just to prepare for the fics I wanna write for that month and there’s soooo many good ideas I have and ones I get from you guys XD Anyway, this is the best we can offer each other and to anyone who reads and enjoy this. :)

[terrainofheartfelt]

and now, a playlist:

Mister Americana and the Heartbreak Prince

or,

FirstPrince (Taylor's Version)

shoutout to my beloved cherry @blairwaldcrf my friend in rwrb and my enabler in everything related to the two himbos above.

shoutout to this post specifically for their intrepid scholarship

listen at the unlisted youtube playlist here

Track list and annotations under the cut.

✨tracks✨

This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things They broke an $80k wedding cake. and alex is such a brat about it. and holds a grudge like none other 

Gorgeous Alex hoarding that magazine cover of Henry. Henry is literally so gorgeous the bisexual jumps out

Teardrops on my Guitar  Henry-coded the only one who’s got enough of me to break my heart I MEAN

Untouchable The. YEARNING. I want you but I cannot risk telling you so you please tell me say it first please say it first please. Ever thought about that bros being bros visit from Henry’s perspective? Hmm? I didn’t know you wear glasses

gold rush Long distance bro-ship. Just chattin and textin. Gay crush gay crush gay crush. Watching each other’s public love lives and seething. Almost jump into the fantasy but then letting it fade to gray. or as the british say, grey. 

Stay Beautiful The constant texting. Each one finds a way to be the other’s highlight of his day. But we were ever so careful dear. Alex being america’s sweetheart and Henry being totally gone for him

Foolish One Henry kiddoooooo. The prince with the heart on the outside of his chest. 

Forever Winter before their relationship is even romantic, they are a safe place for each other. Like christmas. and thanksgiving. 

You’re on Your Own, Kid NYE. Henry’s gayass breaking point, searching the party of better bodies and wanting wanting wanting.

Tied Together with a Smile The prince charming act be coming undone!

Message in a Bottle Alex’s bisexual crisis. He knows henry likes him, and it’s kinda frightening, standing here waiting, and that asshole won’t return his calls so he’s gotta trick him into a state dinner at the white house.

Treacherous A state dinner of antici………PATION. And a makeout in the drawing room. As one does.

Electric Touch  alex waiting after dinner in his white house bedroom all nervouslike

Snow on the Beach First hookup. Soft disbelief, because you wanting me tonight feels impossible. Snow in DC (a swamp) is as weird as snow on a beach imo. 

I Can See You FWB era. If you could only see all the things that happen inside my head. At galas and polo matches and wimbledon and whatnot

Wildest Dreams The henry journey. This will end and it will wreck him but right now it’s beautiful. Also this is the song for hooking up in a stable post polo

Delicate Secret relationship. Boys are bad with feelings. Oh damn never seen that color blue. I pretend you’re mine all the damn time. Waking up with each other in Paris speaking of: 

Paris No I didn’t see the news. Too busy getting dicked down by the most eligible bachelor in the Western world. What who said that.

Lavender Haze Don’t read into my melancholia. Let’s just stay in this gay suspended animation. This secret bubble. It’s safe here. 

22 They literally spend Alex’s 22nd birthday together you know he was feelin’ 22. Pretty sure the novel says that actually

I Think He Knows It’s fun and flirty and the feelings are creeping in at the edges, but not enough that they have to face them

Jump Then Fall Alex is a smitten kitten

So It Goes… LA gala. All eyes are on them but as separate entities. Magician, illusionist. Trying to play it chill but being utterly incapable. 

Starlight dancing in the club in LA. Alex getting carried away by queer joy

Dress Their night together in LA. their secret moments in a crowded they got no idea about me and you. Their hands are shaking from holding back from each other! Say his name and everything just stops! They don’t want each other like best friends! Pez only bought those custom kimonos so they could take em off! Ah ah ah ahhhh! Carve your name into Alex’s bedpost, Henry babe. 

Hey Stephen cutesy emailing. Hey henry you blew my mind in LA last week u up? I can’t help it if you look like an angel/achilles/james bond

I’m Only Me when I’m with You Sweet email exchange post LA. I’ll be damned but I miss you

…Ready for It? (BloopPop remix) Henry says In the middle of the night in my dreams you should see the things we do….Let the games begin

Glitch Wimbledon. Fucking love doing things out of spite. I’m not even sorry. Henry will go back eventually to dudes to give him nothing but for now there’s this 

Sparks Fly DNC. Henry really dropped everything to come see alex at the convention. The kinda reckless that should send him running, but he kinda knows that he won’t get far. Give him something that’ll haunt him when he’s not around, Alex. 

Everything Has Changed Telling madam president mom. Do you feel forever about him? Henry making a point to be there for him is alex’s emotional tipping point. 

State of Grace Time between dnc and lakehouse is their state of grace. No leaving, no leaking. It can’t last but its so good. Mosaic broken hearts, but brave and wild and I never saw you coming and I’ll never be the same

cowboy like me Alex texas boy. The reflective nature he turns on henry once he’s fired from the campaign. Thinking about that word forever

Wonderland Never worse but never better. In all their searching of the world they won’t find anything else that feels like what they have. yk?

Cruel Summer summer vacay at the lake house. the darkness approacheth. I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you but here I am sealing my fate over and over again 

You Are in Love ‘you’re my best friend.’ and you knew what is was: Alex is so in love he could die

willow Alex at the dock like he is begging for Henry to take his hand and wreck his plans. He’s like that’s my MAN.

illicit affairs it dies a million little times. like by a lake in the moonlight. henry sees the truth when it shows and alex gets angry because you showed me colors you know I can’t see with anyone else 

Bye Bye Baby henry fleeing texas. You took me home but you just couldn’t keep me

Midnight Rain He wanted it comfortable I wanted that pain. I broke his heart ‘cause he was nice 

Hits Different when alex thinks about the sham the firm will make henry go through. I pictured you with other girls “in love” then threw up on the street

august refrain of henry. It was never mine. You weren’t mine to lose. This was over before it even began

Breathe Separated. Neither of them doing well. 

exile alex obliviousness meets henrys stubbornness. the imagery of nations and homelands

Anti-Hero henry has it’s me high I’m the problem it’s me at tea time everybody agrees disease. no cure but it can be treated 

Renegade alex working up a head of steam because he just wants to say get your shit together so I can love you 

Maroon your body comes back to me in dreams and I wake with your memory over me that’s a real fucking legacy!!!!

my tears ricochet alex has literally never had it within himself to go with grace. Ever. In his life. Bless him. Screaming at skies. Stealing lullabies. You know how it is. 

How You Get the [Boy] Narration of the storming of Kensington Palace. Alex being like I want you for worse or for better I would wait forever and ever

The Archer Henry prepared for a lot but he never prepared for Alex staying

Love Story  The dramatics the mythologizing of one’s life the I want you / Then fucking have me like “baby, just say yes” also romeo and juliet and pyramus & thisbe are the same fucking story!!!!

Stay Stay Stay Morning after when Henry comes into the room with coffee. How he could have a lifetime of fine but he’d rather have this. 

Holy Ground Dancing in the V&A

Today Was a Fairytale Lots of this music plays with the idea of fairytales and royalty and the push and pull idealism has with reality and it just fits so well. Because. Prince. &c.

Come Back…Be Here Having the big conversation and then alex having to leave and go back to dc. The long distance drama. This is falling in love in the cruelest way.

End Game choosing to do this thing for real. knowing what they’re up against. Big reputation big reputation ooh you and me would be a big conversation 

Labyrinth oops they both caught feelings. Henry thought the plane was going down how’d he turn it right around 

Cornelia Street The sacred new beginnings that became their religion aka those crazy 48 hours holed up in Kensington. Tender and fragile and amazing

mirrorball henry’s fable. His shattered pieces and the peasant boy with chin dimples who is not like the regulars the masquerade revelers. never been a natural all he does is just try try try

Paper Rings I thought you were a nuisance but whoops you're now the air I breathe. In paper rings and picture frames and dirty dreams

Timeless The phrase ‘see attached bibliography’ is the sexiest thing you’ve ever said to me. All the quotes and recitations they send each other in their emails. 

cardigan The intimate email conversations. Always wanting to know more about the other. 

Lover  The ease with which they say I love you post storming of the castle.

Out of the Woods The almost reveal and the cover up dates with June & Nora to make a cover. The hiding in an alleyway in the car. When the sun came up you were looking at me.

False God Rumors aside they are both In This and that shalt not change. Still worship this love. They might just get away with it.

invisible string it all began at the olympics. All the winding paths of our public lives one single thread of gold tied me to you, &c.

Mastermind Henry saying he’s loved Alex the entire goddamned time! Newsflash asshole (affectionate)

hoax Sería una mentira, porque no sería él. The only hoax he believes in! He feels forever about it!

peace The last email sent before the leak. Give yourself away sometimes sweetheart there’s so much of you

I Know Places The something that happens when everybody finds out. The vultures circling dark clouds.

Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince Alex and the leak fallout. The whispers in the hallway. American stories burning before me & high fives between bad guys. 

I Did Something Bad The email leak. There’s the harshness of the trauma, but there’s also madam president mom going “fuck it.” Don’t tell me this song didn’t pull henry through. Avoiding plans and sucking cock. Don’t knock it til you try it. Go ahead and light me up

the lakes (original version) I like this mix because it’s more ~cinematic~ to me. And something about henry not being cut out for these cynical clones and hunters with cell phones yk?

Run The phone call from air force one post leak. The eye in the storm

Sweet Nothing It’s them in the music room of Kensington. It’s alex “can’t let anyone know how much he needs” claremont-diaz admitting he’s just too soft for all of it

Slut if they’re gonna talk shit, we may as well be together in public. It might be worth it for once

You Need to Calm Down Shade never made anybody less gay, fake elizabeth ii. Why are you mad when you can be glaad, pip?

King of My Heart  Wordplay on royalty words, yk. “That’s the bravest son of a bitch I’ve ever met” yk.

Change The crowds in front of Buckingham, alex’s speech from the white house. History, huh?

London Boy We hold this track listing to be self evident

Ours The contrast of the outer life and inner life. Private relationship  under large public scrutiny. 

It’s Nice to Have a Friend It’s about the best friends to best friends AND lovers.

Call It What You Want He wears his signet ring on a chain round his neck not because he owns me because he really knows me, &c

Karma Everything surrounding finding the source of the leak and Rafael Luna double agent and the fact that Alex and Henry can both say that Karma is their Boyfriend. 

Long Live Election night in Austin.

New Year’s Day The mythical place NYE occupies in Alex’s public life and now his private one with Henry. The Balls Out Bonanza is great but now it’s about what comes after. 

[finntheehumaneater]

UH UH UH YOU'RE TAKING PROMTS!!

Can I ask for ""if you think i am going to validate your pessimistic thoughts, then you're wrong" from the "I don't deserve you" responses list? Steddie or Buckingham (I acc don't remember if you ship them, it's okay if not), whichever you like the best and feel the more inspired by :)

have a good day love 💕

hallo!! Sorry this took so long—and I do ship them!!! I like Buckingham, Rovickie, and Ronance, because I just need Robin to happy and in love with someone, and I don’t care which girl it is, haha.

anyways, I hope this was okay, because I am very tired right now and have not read it over ♥️

All of the lists for prompts are in my pinned post!

Robin was practically bouncing on her feet as she waited for Chrissy to get out of the car. Her girlfriend was in the passenger seat, now—because she said the mirror on that side was better—trying to fix the strands of hair that were purposefully falling out of her ponytail at the sides of her face.

“You didn’t have to dress up, you know,” Robin said, looking Chrissy over. Her outfit was way more put together than what she normally wore—and that was saying something. She had on a white dress with a skirt that puffed out around her waist and fell to her mid thigh. She had back heels on. They weren’t even going to a fancy restaurant, so Robin herself was wearing a t-shirt and jeans. “We’re just going to see Steve and Eddie.”

Robin felt her face flush as Chrissy turned to her and got out of the car, frowning, her arms crossed over her chest. The bracelets around her wrists jingled and clinked together. “You don’t like it?”

“No, no,” Robin rushed out, holding her hands up slightly, her face now bright red. “I-I do! I do, you look amazing. Hot. Sexy, even, I just—I was just trying to say that you don’t have to dress up just to go and meet Steve, you know? He’s not expecting you to, or…or anything, so it’s fine. But you look great, really.”

Chrissy laughed and moved some hair off of Robin’s shoulder, kissing her on the cheek. “Thanks, babe.” She paused and sighed, taking Robin’s hand and twisting one of her small silver rings around, looking away. “I just want him to think well of me, yeah? His opinion matters to you, and I…I want him to like me.”

Confusion spread over Robin’s face and she brought Chrissy’s hand to her lips, kissing it, just because she knew it would make Chrissy blush. No one could see them, anyways, with the car in the way. “He’ll like you. And if he doesn’t? Fuck him. Actually, wait, no. Don’t tell him I said that.”

Chrissy giggled again and moved her hand out of Robin’s, nodding. “I won’t.”

“Just be yourself, okay?” 

Chrissy rolled her eyes at that, but there was a smile on her lips. “Okay.”

Jesus fucking Christ it was loud inside the restaurant. Chrissy hadn’t bothered to check the name of where they were, just going to the address that Robin had given her. She was tucked into the booth next to Robin, while Steve and Eddie sat on the other side.

And to be honest? She had thought this would be fun. Nerve wracking, but fun. And it wasn’t. Steve and Eddie were mostly talking amongst the two of them, Eddie laughing and not-so-discreetly holding Steve’s hand under the table. And Robin was mostly listening to them, which was weird because she was always talking.

Robin kept reaching for her hand, and Chrissy felt bad for pulling away from her each time, but she felt embarrassed to do it in public—especially in front of Steve, who kept glancing over at her and looking her over, making her want to curl into herself and disappear. Maybe that’s why Robin was being so quiet. Maybe she was upset.

She probably was.

So Chrissy kept to herself, leaning against the wall and looking out the fogged over window next to them. She really didn’t want to upset Robin, but she didn’t need Steve to think that she was too clingy or something. She just needed him to like her, and from the way he kept looking at her, it didn’t seem like he did.

Eventually Steve turned to her and leaned on his elbows on the table, looking her over again. Chrissy straightened up immediately, her eyes widening slightly as she gave him a polite smile. “Hm?”

“Didn’t say anything,” Steve said simply, looking over at Eddie, who was messing with his rings, looking kind of bored now that Steve wasn’t talking to him. Everyone here looked kind of bored. “So, Chrissy. Where did you guys meet?”

“Hm? O-oh, um, college. We’re both doing film.”

“I see,” Steve said, taking Eddie’s hand again, and Eddie smiled, giving him a quick glance before leaning back against his chair, which knocked his cane away from the table. 

“Oh, shit—“ Eddie muttered, going to get it, but Steve got up instead, pushing Eddie gently back down into his chair and grabbing the cane, before sitting back down.

“You alright?” He whispered to Eddie, and Eddie nodded, patting his shoulder. 

Steve turned back to Chrissy and she sighed, chewing on her bottom lip. She saw Eddie frown, and then tug Steve closer by the sleeve of his t-shirt, whispering something and motioning his head towards Robin and Chrissy. Chrissy’s face flushed, and she sank down in her seat slightly. She saw Robin glance over at her, looking away quickly, and she was about to say something, when Eddie pushed his chair back and stood up, his cane falling over as he leaned heavily on the table. “I need to piss!,” and then turned to Steve, ignoring the people who had turned around to look at them, giving him a pointed look.

Steve sighed and stood up again, grabbing Eddie’s cane and handing it to him. “I’ll, uh…go with him to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself.” It was obviously a lie, but Chrissy saw Robin shrug and wave them off, looking down.

After they were out of sight, Chrissy turned to Robin and made to take her hand, but Robin tugged her hand away, sighing. “Did I do something?”

Chrissy froze, looking confused. Feeling confused. “No, honey…”

“I just—whenever I try to touch you or something, you move away, and I…I feel like I did something.” Robin muttered, and Chrissy held out her hand. It took a minute, but Robin eventually took it, kissing Chrissy’s knuckles, and Chrissy looked around. No one was looking at them. She didn’t know why it made her so nervous.

“I don’t deserve this,” She whispered, feeling her eyes gloss over. “I don’t deserve you…”

There was silence for a moment, and Chrissy looked down at her knees, biting her lip to keep the tears from falling. She didn’t need to embarrass herself anymore than she already had. 

Then she felt a finger under her chin, moving her head back up, and she blinked, feeling a tear fall down her cheek. Robin’s hand moved to cup her face, and her voice was so incredibly soft when she answered, “if you think i am going to validate your pessimistic thoughts, then you're wrong.”

Chrissy sniffled, laughing quietly as Robin moved her other hand to Chrissy’s face and shook her head lightly. “You do deserve this, okay? And you deserve a lot more than I can give you. You’re perfect, okay?” 

Chrissy let Robin kiss her, even though everything in her was screaming at her to pull away, because people might see. After a moment, Robin pulled away, and Chrissy sighed, eyes darting down to her lips for a moment, before she sighed again. “Steve doesn’t like me.”

“Yes he does.”

“But—“

“But, Steve is bitchy. He has resting-bitch-face. He likes you,” Robin assured her, and Chrissy laughed, going to say something else before she got cut off by Steve’s voice.

“I do not have resting-bitch-face,” he retorted, glaring at Robin as he sat back down. “You take that back.”

“I can’t because it’s true,” she pointed out, letting go of Chrissy’s face to reach over the table and poke Steve in the arm. 

“Did you guys talk things over yet?” Eddie said, still a bit too-loud as he sat back down, his cane laying over his lap. Robin nodded, and he sighed with relief, slipping down in his chair a bit while he looked up at the ceiling. “Good, because I could not wait in the bathroom anymore. It was gross.”

Steve laughed, and Eddie looked over at him, grinning.

Robin hesitated, and then held out her hand for Chrissy. Chrissy looked down, glanced at Steve, and then back at Robin’s hand. 

She took it.

[darkdarkroom]

~ Heat of the Moment ~

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Best friends to lovers. An unexpected drunken kiss has the potential to change everything - was it just the beer, or did Eddie actually mean it? CW: Mentions of alcohol, underage drinking, swearing, kissing, mainly fluff with a hint of angst. Words: 5K

Coming out of inactivity to post some bonus fluff that’s been sat in my drafts, for all you drunk Eddie lovers out there. Happy holidays x

MASTERLIST

***

“Give me one good reason why we can’t just stay in and watch a movie” 

You stare expectantly at Eddie, arms folded as you block the doorway to your dorm room. He simply rolls his eyes and shakes his head, choosing to ignore your blatant show of stubbornness. “Because you’ll enjoy it? Now if you’d just let me in…” he insists, making an attempt at moving past you.  

“That’s the best you can come up with?” you shoot back, not budging an inch. “Why would I enjoy a high school party?”  

“Because I’ll be there” he replies, leaning casually against the door frame. His calm demeanour is beginning to infuriate you; he knows you well enough to know you’ll give in to him eventually, and though you hate to admit it, you know this too.  

Despite being at college whilst he’s stuck repeating senior year, you rarely go a week without seeing each other. The standoff you’re currently in is nothing new; in fact, it’s almost a ritual you play out every time Eddie decides he wants your company.

Which is often.

All he has to do is play it cool, flash that disarming smile and wait for your resolve to crumble. He has you wrapped around his finger and he knows it.  

Still, it won’t stop you from trying to drag this out for as long as possible. “Look at me, Eds. Do I look like I’m in the mood for a party? 

“A pyjama party maybe” he smirks, eyeing your choice of outfit. 

“Pyjamas mean I’m in for the night” you state, and he sighs. 

“Off you go” 

“What?” 

“Go and get dressed”  

“Not happening” you retort, trying to ignore the intense eye contact he’s serving you right now.

You wait for him to come back with a smart remark or a sound piece of logic, but he simply continues to stare, eyebrows raised and a smile playing across his lips.  

“What? Why are you staring at me?”

Still nothing. Just a cool, patient stare that holds your gaze in a way that stirs up something in the back of your mind, something that you choose to ignore this time and every other time he plays this game.  

The longer he stares, the thicker the tension grows. You cross your arms tighter across your chest, caging in any questionable feelings that threaten to surface. Not a good idea, you tell yourself.  

Not with Eddie.  

“Give up, Munson. I’m not coming and that’s final” 

***

Twenty minutes later you’re sat in the passenger seat of his van, scowling out of the window as he drives. Every so often Eddie glances over at you, a victorious smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

“You scrub up well” he murmurs suddenly, and you look down at the outfit he’d given you five minutes to pick out and put on.  

You roll your eyes. “Don't try and butter me up”. 

“No, it’s true. You're looking good” he counters, no trace of teasing or sarcasm in his voice - he means it.

You shuffle down further in your seat, turning your face away to avoid looking at him. “Thanks, Eds” you mutter indistinctly, and Eddie grins.   

“Any time”. 

***

An hour or so after arriving, you realise that your earlier reservations had been correct; high school parties just aren’t as fun when you’re a college student.

Still, Eddie seems to be having a great time. Over the past year he’s managed to find more and more of his own people, finally breaking out of his reject status and gaining a well-deserved amount of attention for Corroded Coffin. You’re endlessly happy for him, softening some of the guilt you’d felt at more or less abandoning him when you moved on.  

What you’re feeling right now, though, is very out of place. Perhaps it’s just your own insecurities, but sometimes you swear you can see people looking at you with thinly veiled confusion. How can you, a college student, fit into his life?  

The last question is one that has been playing on your mind uncomfortably often in recent months. You feel guilty for even thinking it, knowing that your friendship hasn’t changed at all since you left for college. It’s stupid, you tell yourself, in a bid to squash your negative thoughts back into the locked box they belong in.  

It’s the same box which holds other thoughts about Eddie, ones which aren’t so negative.  

Ones which enter your mind as you watch him from across the room, laughing and joking with a group of young metalheads who’ve already had a few beers too many. He stands tall and confident, a hand brushing idly through his messy hair. It’s a force of habit that he can’t seem to stop himself from doing, an idiosyncrasy that you love to tease him about.

You smile as you watch him, thoughts drifting back to a recent afternoon you and Eddie had spent together. 

“Ten times in as many minutes”

Eddie looks over at you from his position on the couch, nose crinkled up in confusion. “What are you on about? 

“That little hair thing you do, I’ve been counting. It’s like…” 

You run a hand through your hair, flicking your head back to mimic his gesture with the addition of an over-exaggerated pout. 

“I do not make that face” he protests, only to earn more hair flicking and preening from you as you stroll around your living room. 

“Oh hey there, I’m Eddie” Flick. “Don’t mind me, I’m just…” Flick. “Making sure everything looks…” Flick. “Perfect!” Flick.

“I’ve never said that in my life” Eddie scoffs, watching your performance with frustrated bemusement.

You run a hand through your hair again, stopping briefly in front of the mirror to admire yourself. “Do I look metal enough?” you ask, flashing him a teasing smile over your shoulder.

“Come on now” he warns playfully, “Don’t make me have to come over there and stop you” 

But you’re enjoying yourself too much to stop, only spurred on by his warning. “Look at my curls, aren’t they luscious? It takes effort to have hair this spectacular” you continue, as he pushes himself up onto his feet.  

“That’s it, you’re done for” 

You pick up the pace as he begins to follow you. “I’m Eddie Munson and I can’t even last sixty seconds without touching my hair”  

“Brace yourself” he advises coolly, hardly having to make an effort to catch up. Still you persist, caught up the thrill of the moment… and besides, a big part of you wants him to catch you.  

“I have the most beautiful hair in all of Hawkins!” you announce, seconds before his arms wrap around you from behind and pull you tight into his body. He wrestles you onto the sofa with ease, pinning you down into the cushions with his full weight.  

“Jesus you’re strong” you manage to blurt out through your laughter, as he grins down at you.  

“Damn right I am”. 

You stare up at him as you try to get your breath back, neither of you moving from your tangled position. As your breathing calms, you became aware that you can feel his heartbeat through his chest. His breath is warm against your neck, his face mere inches away from yours, his knee between your thighs… and suddenly the playfulness of the moment shifts.  

The room fills with an unfamiliar energy, one which both excites and scares you. It’s the second emotion that you feel the strongest, however, and the cautious part of your mind pushes through the fog and takes over.  

“And you’re so heavy!” you exclaim, pushing a hand against his shoulder. In an instant, the tension is broken. Eddie springs off you as quickly as he can manage, stumbling a little as he gets to his feet. You sit upright, filled with a nervous energy. “I’m gonna grab a drink”.

***  You’re brought back to the present by the feeling of something coming to rest on your shoulder. Craning your neck to investigate, you discover that the object in question is, in fact, Eddie’s chin.

He grins tipsily at you, empty bottle in hand. “Hey” he says, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly, “How’s it going over here?”  

You’ve been too caught up in your reminiscing to even notice his approach, and you hope the pang of embarrassment you suddenly feel isn’t obvious. “Having a pretty good night” you lie, and his face lights up at your words. 

“Hell yeah, that’s what I like to hear!” He slurs, nudging your neck with his nose. 

Eddie is already a pretty affectionate guy when sober, but Drunk Eddie always takes this to a whole new level. After a few beers you always find yourself on the receiving end of countless hugs and compliments, personal space becoming an alien concept to him.  

“Seems like someone’s having a pretty good night too” you tease as you turn to face him, watching him sway a little as he tries to re-steady himself.  

“Every night’s a good night when you’re around” he sighs, ruffling your hair with an uncoordinated hand.  

“Looks like a few beers might have something to do with it too” you suggest, and he shakes his head vigorously.  

“What are you talking about, I’ve only had one”. 

“You liar!” You gasp, mock-accusingly.  

Eddie slips his arm around your waist and pulls you into his side, pressing his warm flushed cheek against yours. “Maybe more than one then, but who’s counting?” 

“Clearly not you” 

His face drops. “Are you mad at me?” 

“Of course I’m not mad at you, Eddie” you reassure him, nudging his shoulder gently with yours. “I’d be the same if I didn’t have class in the morning”  

You feel his body relax into yours once again, and he squeezes you a little tighter. “Good, don’t want to make you mad. I’d hate it if you hated me” 

You can’t help but laugh at the implausibility of his words. How could anyone ever hate Eddie, least of all you?  

Hate is the opposite of what you feel for him, the voice at the back of your head chimes in unhelpfully.  

You squash it back down into its box once again, choosing your words a little more carefully.  “I’d never hate you, Eddie, you’re one of my best friends” 

A look you don’t quite recognise crosses his face, the drunken glint in his eyes replaced with an unfamiliar seriousness. He opens his mouth to say something, but he’s interrupted by the arrival of a guy you recognise from another party a few weeks back. Eddie steps away from you to clap the guy on the shoulder, his fingertips brushing your hip as he withdraws.  

“Hey, good to see you!” he exclaims, glancing back at you briefly as he launches into a friendly conversation with the new arrival. You stay and chat obligingly for a minute or so, but your mind is preoccupied. Excusing yourself politely, you step outside to get some much-needed fresh air.  

The patio is still heaving with party goers, so you grab a beer from a cooler and keep walking until you set foot on the grass. It’s more peaceful here, though you can still hear the muffled sounds of the party even from this far away.  

You sit cross-legged, back resting against a grassy slope as you try to push Eddie’s expression out of your mind. Clearly you’re just overthinking things. The boy is drunk, nothing he did merits any deeper reading than that. You knock back a considerable mouthful of your drink, grimacing at the acrid taste.  

Why can’t you just enjoy yourself tonight? Eddie made all that effort to get you out to a great party and here you are, sitting alone like a loser. And why is it that you can’t seem to talk to him without joking or gently making fun of him? The nature of your friendship has always been playful, but recently it seems like nothing that comes out of your mouth around him is entirely genuine.  

It’s a defence, the voice at the back of your head chimes in. You’re overcompensating.  

It stops you from saying how you really feel. 

God damnit. It’s getting harder and harder to keep these thoughts locked in their box, no matter how many times you shove them back down.  

At the heart of the issue is one very plain fact:  

You like Eddie as more than a friend.  

Eddie sees you as a friend, a best friend at that, but apparently that’s no longer enough for you. It will have to be enough though, won't it? Your friendship is much too precious to risk derailing it with a few silly little feelings, and it just wouldn’t be fair to put that kind of pressure on Eddie anyway.  

What does it matter that your heartbeat quickens every time he smiles at you?  

What does it matter that ever single innocent compliment makes your cheeks heat up with an unstoppable rush of blood?   

And what does it matter that every time he hugs you goodbye, you wish it had been a kiss? 

None of it matters. You’ve kept your feelings hidden for this long, and hidden they must stay.  

“Found you!” 

You look up to see Eddie standing at the top of the slope, his expression triumphant. “What'ya doing all the way out here?” he asks, before plopping himself down beside you. He hasn’t sobered up at all since you’d last spoken. If anything, he’s even more drunk.  

“Fancied some fresh air” you explain, watching as he pulls up a handful of grass and sprinkles it into your lap.  

“Oh thanks, just what I wanted” you tell him, and he grins.  

“Should come back inside,” he suggests, gently elbowing you in the ribs. “Kinda looks like you're hiding”. 

You make a show of looking back at the party, and then sigh like you’ve just remembered something. “I should probably make a move actually, I have to be in class for half seven”. 

“Aw, come on!” 

Eddie leans into you, one arm wrapping around your shoulders to pull you into a hug. “Wanted to party with you!” he slurs, eyes wide.  

You can’t help but smile at the puppy dog expression he’s pulling, something he tries whenever things aren’t going his way. Doe-eyes wide and pleading, lips soft and pouting... it nearly always works on you, so you’re going to have to stay strong if you’re going to leave any time soon.  

“We can party together another time” you assure him, which doesn’t seem to make a difference. 

“Won't enjoy myself if you’re gone” he grumbles, pouting exaggeratedly.  

“I’m sure you’ll be just fine, Mr Popular”. 

“You've enjoyed it though, right?” he asks suddenly, genuinely concerned. “I kinda dragged you out, but -” 

“I’ve had a great time, I’m glad you dragged me out” you insist. Another lie, to save his feelings.  

“So you don’t hate me?” 

You frown at him, intrigued as to why he seems so hung up on this tonight. “Why do you think I hate you? Like I said, you’re one of my best friends”  

“Oh, friends!” 

Eddie rolls his eyes dramatically, throwing his head back in drunken disdain. “Frieeeeends,” he repeats, dragging the word out as long as possible. You stare at him in confusion, wondering just how much more he’s had to drink.  

“Are you okay?” you ask, shuffling round to face him properly. This level of Drunk Eddie isn’t one you’re familiar with, and you're not sure what to make of it.  

He laughs bitterly. “Why wouldn't I be! We’re friends!” 

“Why do you keep saying it like that?” 

He ignores this, swaying away from you to rest against the slope. He folds his arms across his chest, staring up at the sky with an indignant expression on his face.  

“Eddie? Talk to me, I don’t get it” you implore, and he snaps round to face you. His expression changes from indignant to serious, his molten gaze focused on your face. He stares intently at you as he sits up straighter and swallows hard.  

“Fuck friends” he whispers back, his eyes dark and his brow furrowed. And again, with more certainty, “Fuck friends”.  

His hand comes up to caress your cheek, before he leans in slowly. He pauses just inches away from your face, those deep brown eyes staring into your own as if searching for objections. 

Entirely hypnotised by his touch, you have none.  

His expression softens entirely when he realises this, and he closes the gap between you with his lips pressed softly against yours.  

It’s gentle at first, cautious even, but it soon deepens as he feels you kiss him back. He kisses you with passionate enthusiasm, leaning into you as he lets himself be swept up in the moment.  

This is a moment you’ve hardly dared to dream about, and finally it’s happening. Eddie is kissing you. What does it matter that he’s drunk and… he’s… 

Eddie is very drunk. 

You can taste the alcohol on his lips, a sharp reminder that he isn’t altogether lucid right now. One drink alone has blurred the edges of your mind, and who knows how many he’s indulged in?  

Eddie is kissing you, but…  

No. 

This isn’t how you want it to happen.  

Your eyes snap open as you part from him suddenly, heart beating rapidly. He moves with you, his body swaying forwards as a soft sigh leaves his lips. You place a hand firmly on his shoulder, holding him up before he can fall into you entirely. “Eddie, I –“ 

“Hey Eddie! You out here?” 

The voice comes from the direction of the patio, and the pair of you crane your necks to see above the slope. “Down here!” Eddie yells back, his slurred speech confirming everything you’re thinking.  

He turns back to grin at you, a hand reaching out to tuck some stray hair behind your ear. “I’ll be right back for you” he mumbles softly, before staggering to his feet. You can only stare mutely up at him as he stumbles away, tripping over the uneven ground. 

For a moment you sit in silence.  

That kiss… it had felt so right, so electric, until you’d let overthinking get in the way.  

But maybe you aren’t overthinking. Eddie is undeniably drunk, so how can you possibly know if the kiss had been sincere on his part? He’s always been an affectionate drunk, and maybe this is just an extra, accidental step in that direction.  

Maybe he hadn’t known what he was doing at all.  

Maybe it was a mistake. 

It has to be a mistake. 

This is all wrong. You pull yourself to your feet and walk back into the house, hoping for some kind of distraction. More chatting, more dancing, less thinking - that sounds like a good plan.

It even works for a while, an hour or so passing as you surround yourself with strangers and do your best impression of someone enjoying a party.

You're always keeping one eye out for Eddie, though.

You just can’t face him right now. What would you even say? You can’t pretend that everything is okay, but you can’t have a serious conversation with him either.

Maybe you could just... leave?

Chances are he’s so drunk that he’ll forget you were there. Hopefully he’s so drunk that he’ll forget you’d ever been there. 

Forget that he’d kissed you.  

Yeah, leaving sounds really good right now. All you need to do is catch a ride home and you're in the clear.

It's only when you find yourself out on the street that you remember Eddie is your ride home.

Shit.

He's clearly not in any state to be behind the wheel, that's for sure. This isn't the first time he's been too drunk to drive, but usually he just tosses you his keys and lets you take the driver's seat. That option is looking like your best shot at getting home tonight, but a knot in the pit of your stomach stops you from just heading in and making it happen.

The thought of being stuck in the van with a still drunk and totally clueless Eddie is unbearable. He was so soft, so happy when he left you - and here you are, tense and confused and barely thinking straight. No, you can't deal with that right now.

It's too far to walk, though, and you don't know anyone else here. There's no chance of finding a cab in this part of town either; yeah, you're not going anywhere.

You're just gonna have to wait.

Maybe this is a good thing. You need a little space to cool off, and perhaps by the time Eddie emerges you'll have processed things enough to have normal conversation. Yeah, this is good.

This is great.

At least it's not cold, right? And there's a bench over there you can sit on whilst you wait for god knows how long, kept company only by your racing thoughts and the faint taste of his lips still lingering on yours...

Fucking hell.

Resigned to your fate, you settle onto the bench with your arms folded tight across your chest. The longer you have to wait, the longer you have until you need to face him again.

***

It's hard to tell how much time passes as you sit and watch the world go by, but a fair amount of partygoers have left already when you hear a familiar voice calling your name. You find yourself looking up without thinking, heart jumping in your chest when your eyes land on him.

The first thing you notice is how sober Eddie looks in comparison to a few hours ago. No swaying, no stumbling, no giddy grin on his face. Just a look of relief and a steady gait as he approaches, hand shoved deep in pockets.

Eddie slides casually onto the bench beside you, letting his knee knock gently into yours. “Hello, you” he says softly, a gentle smile playing at the corners of his lips. And then, after a moment’s pause – “I think we need to talk”. 

Your chest tightens. “What about?” you ask nonchalantly, watching as Eddie pushes a stray curl out of his face. 

“You don’t have to pretend” he sighs, rubbing his cheek. His gaze drops, and he stares down at the ground for a moment. You don’t try to fill the silence, unable to find the right words.

Suddenly he’s staring directly at you again, his wide eyes filled with the same seriousness you’d seen earlier. “I didn’t want this” he begins, a troubled frown creasing his brow. “I just thought… but…” 

You watched as he trails off, realising that this is just as hard for him as it is for you. “Eddie, I –“ 

“I shouldn’t have kissed you” 

The words hang in the air as you stare mutely at him, hardly wanting to believe your ears. This is the type of scene your imagination produces in your darkest moments of self-doubt, but this is real.  

Eddie had spoken those words and he meant them.  

The certainty in his voice ensures that you’re under no illusion: He regrets the kiss entirely. 

He can barely look at you, head turned away and shoulders hunched.

You will yourself to say something, anything, to make this a little easier. The tension thickens unbearably and finally you open your mouth to speak, hoping that the words will just form themselves. They don’t have to – Eddie finds his words first. 

“I fucked up” 

He clenches his fists, avoiding your gaze as he looks down at the table. “I’m sorry I ruined this. I’m sorry I got drunk and I’m sorry I acted like an idiot and I’m sorry I kissed you. I was so… stupid” he continues, jaw set and shoulders hunched.  

You stare at him in disbelief. 

“Eddie, you didn’t ruin any-“ 

“Yes, I did. You left without saying goodbye and now you're sat out here all by yourself? I really fucked up and I’m so sorry –“ 

“Stop saying that!” you protest, his constant apologies only making you feel worse. You aren’t angry at him, you’re angry at yourself. If only he knew how you really feel, but you can hardly tell him now when he seems to regret kissing you so much. It will only make this worse. 

Eddie rubs a hand across his face, swallowing hard “Can’t believe I thought it was a good idea. One drink would’ve been fine, fuck, even two, but no. Fucking stupid idiot had to overdo it”. 

He laughs bitterly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I can’t believe I thought you felt the same”. 

Your breath catches in your throat.  

Did he just… does he mean… 

Wait. 

This isn’t what you’d thought it was at all. Your heart begins to race, sitting up straighter as a swell of adrenalin rushes through your bloodstream.  

You’ve got it all wrong, and so has he.  

Eddie is doing exactly what you always do, letting his negative thoughts take over until he’s blinded to any other scenario. He hasn’t even heard your opinion and yet he’s assumed the worst.  

Your mind races as you think of the right words to say. If this is what you now realise it has to be, you need to stop him.  

You need to make this right.  

Eddie lets out a deep sigh, not noticing your sudden change in demeanour. “Our friendship is so fucking important and it was dumb of me to ruin that. I didn't wanna make you hate me but –“ 

“I don’t hate you. I love you”. 

Eddie looks up at you for the first time, his eyes wild and his lips parted. You stand as you continue to speak, the words bursting free in a rush of emotion. 

“I wanted you to kiss me! I kissed you back, Eddie, don’t you remember? But then I remembered you were drunk, so I thought maybe you didn’t mean it and I couldn’t deal with that. That’s why I left. But if you did mean it and we’re on the same page here I need you to tell me because I’m going to feel really stupid if I’ve just –“ 

“You love me?” he interrupts, his voice barely more than a whisper. 

“Yes,” you reply, “I’m in love you”. 

There’s a moment of silence as the two of you stare at each other. You’ve made your move, and now it’s all down to him.  

There’s a different tension in the air, filled with potential and fear and relief and everything in between. Your heart is beating so loud you’re sure he can hear it, but you hardly care.  

Slowly, Eddie stands, drawing his lip between his teeth as he takes a few steps towards you. "You love me?"

You can only nod, afraid that the slightest word will shatter this delicate moment.

"Shit" he breathes, "This is really happening".

Eddie stares at you in wonder for a moment, his dark eyes fixed on yours as he lets the sweet reality of the situation fully soak in. “Fuck, I love you too” he says, “I’m in love with you". 

He nods to himself, a gentle smile playing across his lips as he takes another step towards you. “I’m in love with you” he repeats, the smile broadening until it lights up his whole face. 

His beautiful, beautiful face.  

“And you’re in love with me”. 

He closes the distance between the two of you, his hand coming up to caress your cheek as he stares deeply into your eyes. All you can do is smile back, as everything falls into place.  

“How long?” he asks softly, his gaze flicking from your eyes to your lips and back again. 

“Years, probably” you tell him, and he lets out a shaky breath. 

“Years… I could’ve been telling you I loved you for years.” 

Eddie moves in closer, his face inches from yours. “I love you,” he whispers, his eyes full of tenderness and conviction. “I just... it feels so good to say it, y'know? I love you, I love you”. 

His other hand comes up to rest on your waist, pulling you even closer until your bodies are flush against each other. He tilts your chin gently, letting his lips brush softly against yours as he speaks; “I Love You” 

And with that, he presses his lips to yours.  

The kiss is slow, as the pair of you savour every second of it. Quickly, though, it heats up, his lips moving hungrily against your own and conveying all the deep emotion he’s kept locked up.  

It’s nothing like the kiss you’ve previously shared; where that had been rushed and uncoordinated, this is deliberate and refined and oh so perfect. It feels natural, so right, your hands moving up to lace themselves in his hair as his fingers stroke soft circles against your hip.  

You don’t know how long you’ve been kissing for, and you don’t care. Eddie loves you, and you love him, and that is all that matters. 

When your lips finally part, Eddie pulls you down onto the bench and holds you against his chest. He laughs gently to himself, tucking your head into the crook of his neck “Oh, sweetheart. We have so much lost time to make up for” 

[thedrarrylibrarian]

Can I say that I'm SO excited for this rec? It's always so much fun to host a guest in the library, and I have loved reaching out and making new connections with people I hadn't talked with before, but it's EXTRA fun when the reccer is already a friend AND when she recs a brilliant fic that I hadn't previously read! I don't know what else to say about this lovely writer than she's a wonderful and positive addition to our fandom, and a dear friend of mine. Without further ado, here is @nv-md to share our April Happy Hour Rec!

On a normal day, my inbox is not usually a source of joy. Bills, ads, work, and more ads, means that I spend most of my time avoiding emails at all costs.

However, an email from AO3 brings me nothing but joy.

An email that one of my favorite authors has written another seven thousand words (that I get to savor for free in the middle of the produce section while ignoring the poor man behind me who just wants to buy squash)? 

Well, there’s no greater joy than that.

And I’ll be taking zero comments at this time about how much I rely on fanfic for serotonin.

So, onto the fic in question!

I cannot recommend InnerLilith’s work enough. Like honestly, all of her fics are bangers and you should feel free to stop looking at this post to go and read them all right this moment. But, if you want to stick around, I’d love to tell you about ‘I’m lying when I’m looking away’.

I'm lying when I'm looking away by InnerLilith (6,757 words, rated E)

Sometimes it takes a Purim party and a flapper dress for Harry to figure out what he likes. (Spoiler: He likes Malfoy.)

This fic features: Jewish holidays and traditions, Draco in a flapper dress, flustered Harry, hilarious banter, meaningful discussions about gender norms, the smuttiest smut that ever smutted, and a soft ending that melted my heart.

I fell into this story headfirst and it was nothing but delightful from start to finish.

Harry’s POV is perfect. He’s a goddamn mess, has no idea which way is up, and waxes poetic about Draco’s legs and skin and lips and collarbones, and generally makes a fool of himself in front of all of his friends. Classic Harry James Potter behavior that I will never get enough of.

“Then he was striding over, all that leg just exposed, so Harry could see the muscles shifting with each step, the ripple of satin over his hinging joints, the soft, dark promise of what hid underneath.”

Draco is cool and confident (omg the snark), his legs are long, his dress is short, and I love him as much as Harry does. Honestly, I think about Draco in a flapper dress at least once a day.

“Malfoy certainly seemed to think nothing of it, sauntering around like he was born in that flapper dress. And maybe that’s what the big deal was for Harry, actually—how Malfoy acted like it wasn’t a big deal at all, and how he was right.”

Everyone is at the Purim party, including our beloved Fred (who lives), and they all make cameos as they watch Harry drool over Draco. If I tried to include all my favorite parts, then I would just have to copy the entire fic into this rec, but just know, the gang’s all here and it’s wonderful and brilliant. Lilith nails each voice, their costumes are hysterical (I will never recover from Luna as a demiguise), and I wish I was cool enough to be invited to their party.

In between eating hamantaschen and celebrating with wine, Harry and Draco circle each other all night. They’re not enemies, but it’s clear they don’t quite know how to be friends either, and they’re so obviously into each other that you can’t help but root for them to figure it out. There’s just enough ‘will they or won’t they’ to keep you on the edge of your seat and to make the ending that much more satisfying. Then—

THE SMUT! 

That’s all I can say about that because you need to read it yourself—it is delicious—but here’s a little teaser.

“Harry tugged his clothes off frantically, and when Draco brought a hand to the straps of his dress, slanting his brow in a question, Harry said, leave it, leave it, and his voice sounded cracked and desperate.”

This fic has it all and you will not regret one moment spent in this world. I wish that we could gather around a table, drinking and eating and laughing and talking about this fic. Since we can’t do that, please read it and then come and yell at me about it. 

Happy reading and a big hug and kiss to the Librarian, your hard work does not go unnoticed and it is sososo appreciated!

Hugs and kisses back and thank you to @nv-md for joining us for Happy Hour! As always, if you enjoyed a fic, please leave a kudos or comment!

Lots of Love and Happy Friday!