#and it turned into a drawing whatever the hell i want page

[bugprinz]

doodle page :P

[rogueddie]

There are a lot of rumors about Eddie Munson. From his sexuality, to his religion, to him being some sort of supernatural creature.

Steve doesn’t put a lot of merit in most of them. They’re usually just bullshit people make up to entertain themselves with whilst beating down on the weird kid. Steve thinks it’s boring… usually.

He’s seen enough weird things happen around Munson to know that something isn’t right. Something about him is unnatural. And Steve is staying clear out of the way of whatever the hell he is, or whatever the hell he’s messing with.

Unfortunately, his friends haven’t gotten the message.

“Do it at your own house!” Steve complains, though he makes no move to stop them. He’s sure it’s nothing, that it’ll only lead to an annoying clean-up job, but there’s a nagging sense of dread writhing in his gut. “This shit is bull anyway.”

“If it’s bull then what’s the problem?” Tommy counters.

“Because none of you dickheads are going to help clean this shit up!”

“I promise to help you clean up,” Carol says. “There. Problem solved. Right?”

"It's still stupid," Steve mutters, glaring at the janky make-shift pentagram they've made. "And a bad idea."

It's drawn on nine pieces of paper- they wanted to draw it big on the floor, but Steve had but his foot down. He lets them use some of his moms candles as a compromise.

With the lights off, sitting with the two of them in a circle, it suddenly feels too real. Even Carol looks suddenly nervous.

Tommy is the only one still smirking, though Steve is sure that it's forced. His voice shakes a little as he begins reading off the paper he'd torn out a library book. His Latin is clunky.

At first, nothing happens.

Long enough that Carol says, "did you even say it right?"

"Yes, it even has-" Tommy starts.

The candles all blow out, suddenly. The light Steve had left on in the kitchen flicks off too, plunging them into complete darkness.

After a horrible moment, where they're still and silent, Carol yelps.

"Don't grab me, Tommy, that's not funny!"

"I didn't grab you."

"Wh- Steve?"

"No," is all Steve can get out.

"I'm turning the lights on," Tommy says. "This is ridiculous."

Steve listens to his footsteps and, when he sounds like he's almost at the light switch, he yelps.

"Fuck this," he says.

"What the fuck, Tommy!" Carol yells when they both hear him running past them. She's up on her feet immediately, chasing after him.

He wants to scream after them, plead with them to come back, that they shouldn't be abandoning the circle.

But, the same gut instinct that insists he stay where he is, keeps his mouth shut. Everything in his being is telling him that if he leaves, if he speaks first, horrible things will happen to him.

Something tuts, like a parent admonishing a child.

The living room light flicks on, so bright that Steve has to blink a few times to clear away the white spots.

Eddie Munson sits in the space they left empty.

"Someone didn't read the terms and conditions," he snickers.

"What..." Steve pauses, clearing his throat. "What are the, uh... terms and conditions?"

"Oh, they're simple, really. Look," he holds up the page Tommy had read the incantations from, pointing to the little paragraph at the end. "They even translated it to English! But all you need to know, big boy, is that you are A-OK."

"And... Tommy and Carol?"

"Eh, they're fine. Lucky, really. I'm trying to relax up here. I'm only gonna pay them back with a minor curse or two. Nothing lethal."

"Fuck."

"We haven't even got to you yet!" He spins around so hes laying on his belly, resting his chin on his palm. "You didn't technically summon me so you can just tell me to leave... or."

"Or?"

"Deal with no consequence, baby. One wish, whatever you want, free of charge. Well... I'd want your silence about the whole... summoning thing. Let's consider that payment."

He doesn't need his gut or book to warn him that it's a bad idea. Munson could be lying, easily. There could be fine print. It's a bad, very bad idea.

"There's... definitely no consequences? I won't, like, go to hell for this?" Steve finally asks.

"Do some charity work for a week, you'll be fine," he says, waving his hand around. "What do you want, King Steve?"

"Could- could you make someone love me?"

"Oh, ho ho ho! Who's the unlucky lady who said no to you?"

"No, it... it's not like that. I mean, um... my mom."

Munsons smile drops. The temperature drops with it, making a chill run up Steves spine.

"Your mom," he repeats.

"They're busy like, all the time," Steve automatically defends. "And they're barely here so, uh... of course they wouldn't- I mean, it's normal, right? You can't love a stranger or... whatever. It's fine. It's just... I don't know."

"Steve..." Munson pauses.

He groans, throwing his head into his hands, dramatically. He almost immediately flings his head back up, hair flying everywhere, giving Steve wide and pleading eyes.

"I can't make people fall in love or any shit like that. I can make illusions, that's it. Love is, like... way out of my jurisdiction."

"I- I'm ok with an illusion. Like, just one day or something."

"Steve, baby, you're breaking my heart."

"Please?"

"Jesus- ok!" Grumbling, Munson shifts so he's kneeling. "And in return, you won't say shit about any of this. Deal?"

"Deal."

"Great. Ugh. This next part is... weird."

"What do you mean, weird?"

"It's weird, I don't know. Deals about, like, love are sealed with a kiss."

"You're joking."

"Nope, and that's not even the weird part. Now, come on and pucker up, let's get this over with." He gestures for Steve to shuffle closer, waiting until they're sat close enough that their knees almost bump together. "You can still change your mind. Anything at all, Steve. Anything."

"I thought you wanted to get this over with?"

"On your head..."

Munson leans forward, kissing him. It's just a peck, simple and easy. No big deal, right?

Steve feels possessed. It's like someone lit a match in his stomach, leaving him lightheaded and confused. He's not sure how he ends up in Eddie's lap, clutching onto his shoulders, desperately trying to lick into his mouth. He feels so-

He wakes up in his bed, the morning light blinding him.

"What the fuck..." he mutters to himself, grabbing at his throbbing head.

At first, he thinks he's hungover. That he'd just had a weird dream... but he's wearing the same clothes. And, sat on his stomach, is a guitar pic. It's got 'corroded coffin' written on it too- Eddie's band.

"Steve!" He hears his mom call. "Time to get up!"

He scrambles out of bed, dashing down the stairs.

She smiles when she spots him, so bright and warm. She even raises an arm, laughing when he practically throws himself into her side and hugging her tight.

"Morning, sweetheart. Good dreams?"

"Yeah. Yeah, great. But, uh... I feel sick."

"Oh no," she frowns. She puts her hand to his forehead, cooing when she brushes his hair out his face. "Is it your stomach?"

"Yeah. Just... might be better to stay home today. If that's ok?"

"Of course it is. I'm sure we can find something fun to do together, yeah? How about we get a vhs movie, hm?"

"I'd love that."

"Great. Well, if you're feeling up to it, I've made breakfast." She steps away, plating the food she's cooked up. "Oh, did I ever tell you about Paris? It was beautiful, you would have loved it. We should bring you, next time we go."

Steve can't stop smiling. He's sure that his cheeks will be aching by the end of the day.

He'll have to thank Eddie- as soon as he can even think about him without blushing. He'll need to ask if it's normal to still feel... affected, even after the deal is done.

Part of him knows it isn't the deal. Part of him is too curious about how Eddie will react.

[wxshing-aep]

The Prom Committee (pt 1)

Ethan Morales x fem!reader

based on this request:

"how about one where y/n runs an after school club so Ethan keeps getting detention on purpose to see her because he thinks “clubs are for dorks” to quote Paxton and so his reputation as the bad boy isn’t ruined"

Warnings: swearing, banter, the word boobs

AN: decided to make it a 2 parter cause it was getting long while I was writing it and wanted to give Ethan more depth of character than the actually show so part 2 coming tmrw probs!

When his assignment was handed back by Señora Diaz upside down, Ethan wasn't surprised by the big F glaring back at him in red ink when he turned the page over.

“Stupid bitch” he muttered under his breath.

“In Español, Ethan” Señora Diaz paused on her way back to the blackboard, unsure of what he said but certain that it wasn't in Spanish.

“Sorry" he retorted and she continued her route back to the front of the classroom.

"perra estúpida”

“ethan!”

That’s how Ethan ended up in detention for the umpteenth time in his academic career, tapping his pen on the desk in the nearly empty classroom with Mr. Shapiro's happy go-lucky self staring back at him.

"Well, happy to have you here Ethan!" Mr. Shapiro greets picking up a clipboard from his desk. "Not happy to be here" Ethan deadpanned. "Sorry to hear that. Not sure how you managed to get detention during the first week of school, but hey I think that might be a new Sherman Oaks record! Congrats buddy!" Mr. Shapiro cheers before realizing the younger boy is not the slightest bit amused. "Alright, tough crowd."

"Moving right along then," Mr. Shapiro clicks a pen in his hand "time to take roll!" which causes Ethan to look around the empty classroom.

"...I'm literally the only one here"

"I know, I just love checking things off lists," Mr. Shapiro clears his throats " so do I have a Morales comma Ethan?"

"seriously dude?"

"Second call for Ethan Morales"

"you're gonna keep going til I say here, aren't you?"

"You betcha!"

"Here."

"Awesome!" Mr. Shapiro marks a giant check by the one name on his attendance sheet. "god I love doing that- Alright so unfortunately I've gotta skidaddle to help out with the faculty potluck but lucky for you sir we're implementing more of a reformative detention style this year!"

"What the hell does that mean" Ethan asked.

"It means, that instead of sitting here for the next few hours, you my friend, get to offer your help to one of the after school clubs or committees that are a bit low on helping hands" Shapiro responds with finger guns. "so guess who's today's newest member of the prom committee!"

"yea, no. I'm not joining some stupid after school club. clubs are for dorks, losers, and ugly people" Ethan responds grabbing his backpack out of the chair next to him to get up and leave.

"well actually it's a committee"

"even worse"

"Alrighty well I can see what the other options-" is all Mr Shapiro gets out before he is interrupted by your voice from the doorway.

"Oh- hey! Mr. Shapiro, did you find anyone to help with the prom posters? Eric said he'd help me out but then canceled cause he said he had to train with the assistant swim coach to quote make Michael Phelps my bitch end quote. Whatever that means, so I'm kinda flying solo here" You say, drawing Ethan's attention towards you as well.

hot damn. okay maybe after school activities are not only for ugly people. He thinks you might be the prettiest girl he's ever seen and definitely takes a mental note of your outfit that's hugging you in all the right places. He quickly realizes that he doesn't know your name and has no idea how he's never been informed of your existence prior to this moment. He's snapped back to reality by Mr. Shapiro responding to your question. "Ah- I'm sorry but Ethan is-"

"super excited to help decorate for prom" Ethan finds himself blurting out before Mr. Shapiro could finish his sentence.

"Oh- well that's great! Uh Ethan just report back by 6 so I can log your hours! I'm gonna get going, you kids have fun decorating. Go crickets!" Mr. Shapiro says, making his exit as you watch him almost skip down the hall.

"Sup, I'm Ethan" Your attention is brought back to the brown eyed curly haired boy who's suddenly standing in front of you (how the hell did he cross the room that fast, you wonder) with an outstretched hand. He never really shakes hands, he just wanted an excuse to touch you. He's cute, you note mentally. You accept the offer and shake his hand. "and you are?" he continues.

"I'm-" you pause noticing those not so innocent brown eyes are directed elsewhere, "acutely aware of the fact that you're staring at my boobs".

Ethan thinks his brain might've just short circuited cause he was definitely just caught red handed. He'd recently grown a lot more confident with girls since his summer growth spurt and subsequent glow up had dramatically increased the number of girls interested in him, but there was something about you and how you so deliberately called him out that had definitely thrown him off his game.

"Sorry- I uh- I was actually looking at your shirt. They're- It's nice" he wants to die he thinks.

You chuckle at his sudden change in demeanor. "Hmm. Yea, I know they are" you respond, turning on a heel and heading toward the auditorium.

"You comin or what?"

-

For one person, you had made pretty okay progress in a week. The current task at hand was making posters to get people excited for the theme reveal. The ground was littered with several half finished or barely started posters.

"Can you draw?" You asked Ethan.

"I'm not much of an artist"

"Really? the graffiti on the side of the school says otherwise. Your handwriting definitely sucks though so I'll do that, but the art's good and if you can do it with a spray can, you can definitely do it with some paint and markers" your unsolicited review of his graffiti made him crack a smile. His latest act of defiance had been a giant snake comically eating a cricket accompanied with the words "get fucked" on the side of the school building.

"You can't prove that was me" he challenges.

"Maybe not, but Mr. Shapiro had mentioned that I might have a detention helper today thanks to Señora Diaz and I happened to notice the words 'stupid bitch' spray painted on her car containing the same weird ass t's as the graffiti on the side of the school and here you are, Ethan."

"Damn, you're good" he pauses realizing he can't throw your name back at you because he still doesn't know it.

"Y/n" you say quietly.

"Huh?"

"My name's y/n"

Pretty name for a pretty girl, he thought.

"Alright y/n. I'll draw as long as I don't have to to touch any glitter. that shit's impossible to get off"

"deal"

"and I don't write my t's weird"

"you write your t's like a crazy person"

-

Time was pretty much flying by. Together you'd gotten nearly twenty posters done and were slowly finding out more information about each other. You were informed about some of Ethan's tattoos and how he'd actually drawn the designs for all of them himself. Not an artist, my ass, you thought. Ethan learned that he hadn't met you before because you'd previously been homeschooled and had all but begged your parents to be able to go to school with other kids for your senior year until they finally cracked and agreed to enroll you at Sherman Oaks.

"Ah I see, you're a total secret weirdo. That explains your freaky detective skills" he teases.

"I am not a secret weirdo. I just like criminal minds and puzzles"

"You were homeschooled. All homeschooled kids are a little weird"

"That's an unfair stereotype"

"Whatever you say, y/n"

"If anything you're the secret weirdo. or at least an undercover art nerd"

"I'm not an undercover art nerd"

"Yea you are. Something tells me this whole" you gestured largely to him sitting a couple feet away from you, "tortured angsty hot skater boy thing you've got going on is a pretty recent development" you comment absent-mindedly. You looked back up from your poster when he didn't respond to see him sitting there, arms crossed with a smug grin on his face.

"What?" you prodded.

"You totally just called me hot"

You're now very aware that he's a bit closer to you than he was before.

"mm don't think so"

"oh you definitely did"

"did not"

"did too"

"did not" that one came out much less confidently considering his hand had made its way to your face to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. damn, he's good.

"whatever you say, y/n" he almost whispers. have his eyes been that sparkly this whole time? He's leaning in and you're definitely not backing away. You're maybe a centimeter away from his lips until the alarm blaring from your phone, which seemed like much better idea hours ago, sent you flying back from him and scared the shit out of both you.

"shit- I- god that scared me, I uh set an alarm for 6 so you'd remember to check in with Mr. Shapiro cause, ya know, I thought we'd both probably be busy. Um- busy making posters, i mean. Obviously I mean making posters cause we definitely wouldn't be busy doing anything else so-" you ramble.

The smug little smirk has made its way back onto Ethan's face as he is quite enjoying this role reversal from your first interaction of the day.

"shut up" you say to him.

"I didn't even say anything" he responded, hands in the air in surrender.

"I've gotta head home, but thanks for helping out even though you basically had to be here. If you ever find yourself in detention again this semester, feel free to help out. Hopefully the committee is more than just me by then" you say, starting to gather your belongings. Ethan secretly hopes it isn't, he likes the idea of hanging out with just you.

"I probably will find myself in detention again. It's kinda part of this whole tortured angsty hot skater boy thing I've got going on" he says throwing his backpack over his shoulder.

"not what I said" you still attempt to deny.

"sure it wasn't"

"bye ethan"

"bye y/n"

Yea, he'll definitely be finding himself in detention again.

-

Read Part 2 here

[babydollmarauders]

KIDS — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

FAITHLYNN’S 500 CELLY!

🌷: “They’re not your kids, back the f*ck off.” & “That was kind of hot.” & “How is my wife more badass than me?” with Jack.

warnings: toxic mother (readers mom), profanity

as a mom, one of my biggest pet peeves is when someone else tries to parent my children. it happens most often with my own mother. she and i never had a great relationship, and i thought it may get better now that i have my own kids, but i was wrong, it’s only gotten worse.

she makes passive aggressive comments about Jack and i’s parenting choices, tries to undermine my decisions, and has even completely disregarded my words completely. but the real cherry on top is what’s happening right now.

Jack just got back from a roadie, and he was spending time with the kids when my mom showed up at our house. when i asked her what she was doing here, she said that she ‘thought i might need some help with the kids while Jack slept’. which rubbed me the wrong way because first of all, she knows he always sleeps on the plane so that he can play with Eli and Luella when he gets home; and second of all, she acts as if i don’t take care of my children all on my own the entire time he’s traveling.

“mom, what the hell?” i stage whisper, standing across from her in the kitchen. i glance out the kitchen doorway towards the living room, where Jack lays on the floor on his stomach, between our four year old and two year old, coloring with them. “you know full well that we’re perfectly fine.”

“well, i just wasn’t sure. you know, he spends so little time with them already, and he just got back from a long trip, i figured he would be tired. so i came over to take care of them so he could sleep.” she feigns innocence, raising her hands up in mock surrender.

“do you realize how bad he already feels about being away from them? he does the best that he can in order to spend as much time with them as possible, and you coming here, just assuming that he’d be giving up any time he has with them, is rude and disrespectful.” i tell her.

“well now that i’m here, i’d like to spend some time with my grandchildren.” she says.

“fine. whatever.” i storm out of the kitchen, and Jack’s head pops up when i walk back into the living room. his eyebrows raise at the sight of my irritated expression and i shake my head to tell him that i don’t wanna talk about it. his attention is pulled away when Eli calls for him, telling him to look at his drawing, and Jack praises our son’s art skills.

my mother follows me into the living room, and Luella stands to come show me her picture.

“look! mommy!” i crouch down, looking at her page of multicolored scribbles.

“it’s amazing, Lu! you did such a good job!” i tell her, my smile wide as i clap for her. she giggles and turns to show her grandmother the drawing, but my mom pays no attention to the art.

“oh, Luella.” my mother scolds. “look at your pretty dress, it’s all covered in popsicle. you have got to be more careful. and you shouldn’t have been eating a popsicle this early in the day.”

i roll my eyes. she can’t even help criticizing a two year old.

“she wanted one after lunch, and she did a good job with her food, so we gave her one, mom.” i tell her, my tone hostile.

“you need to stop giving them so much sugar.” she replies. “no wonder they have trouble listening. all that sugar and barely any adult supervision”

“they’re not your kids, back the fuck off.” i say lowly through a passive aggressive smile. “they have trouble listening sometimes because they’re children. and they have plenty of adult supervision.”

“i’m just trying to help you, y/n. lord knows you could use it.” she huffs. my eyes go wide as i look at Jack to see if he heard that, and i know he did because the muscle in his jaw ticks from clenching it. but i know he won’t say anything because he doesn’t want to offend his mother-in-law.

“Jack.” my words are sweet, but venom drips from my voice, and i square my shoulders to prepare for an argument. “can you please take Luella to get changed? and take Eli with you.”

my husband jumps up at my words, corralling our kids into Lu’s room.

“what the fuck is your problem?” my tone is harsh as i attempt to keep my voice down. “those are my children. if i needed your help, i would ask for it. i’m sick and tired of you coming over here and making comments about our parenting or judging my husband for how he takes care of our family. Jack loves his job. he loves hockey. and yes, he has to leave sometimes, for a week at most, but he is the best father to our children.”

“y/n-” she starts.

“no! i’m not done. if you want to continue to be a part of their lives, you’re going to stop with the passive aggressive comments. you’re going to quit undermining our authority. and for the love of god, you are going to stop criticizing my children! you already fucked up my childhood and i will not let you ruin theirs.” i’m nearly yelling at this point, my anger reaching new levels. “do i make myself clear?”

my mother huffs, eyeing me up and down before nodding.

“good. now i’d like for you to leave. i would like to spend time with my children, whom i love very much, and their amazing and selfless father.” i tell her. my mom spins around, stalking towards the front door and i don’t move until i hear the door shut. it’s then that i finally let my shoulders slump, heaving out a deep sigh.

Jack steps out of the kids room, the children trailing after him as he makes his way over to me. his hands grip my waist as he pulls me against him, a smirk gracing his lips.

“that was kind of hot. like, seriously, how is my wife more badass than me?” he leans down, pulling me in for a kiss. his lips are soft and taste like the grape popsicle he shared with Luella earlier. “you did great, baby.”

“you think so? i wasn’t too harsh?” i ask, tears stinging my eyes.

“no. you said what needed to be said. i’m so proud of you for standing up to her.” he mutters against my lips.

“thank you, babe.”

-

-

[sophswritingthings]

PLEASEE something with reader being super protective of mizu after her duel with chiaki and constantly bashing heads with taigen because he keeps talking about his death duel with mizu like no one cares dude!! (the way she tore her stitches like less than a day after waking up i'm gonna hit her so hard)

love ur writing sm. i jeep checking your page like every other hour el em ay oh

pairing: mizu x fem!protective!reader

warning(s): swearing, can I take taigen as a warning

a/n: reader yelling at taigen and mizu just staring, heart-eyed

summary: after your partners fight with the four fangs, you can’t help but be protective over her. even despite taigen’s constant shit with this “death duel” or whatever, you are determined to make sure she heals properly.

word count: 408 words / 2,211 characters 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“sit still,” you hiss, gazing up at mizu. she was twitchy, unwilling to stay still and allow you to check her stitches—fixing what you had to.

“let her fix you up so you can be in proper shape for our duel,” taigen hissed, standing over you two with narrowed eyes and crossed arms.

“oh for fucks sake,” you roll your eyes. “can you please shut the hell up about this duel, or whatever? he is not in any shape to be even thinking about that!”

taigen pauses. he recoils a little at your strong and firm words; backing up and turning around to sit by the fire with ringo.

“hmph,” you pout, finishing fixing up mizu’s stitches. 

all the while, she’s staring at you, completely heart-eyed and starstruck.

“how do they feel?” you whisper, “I hope it doesn’t hurt too bad.”

she brushes a hand across your cheek, “they feel fine,” she gently tugs you closer—wanting to feel your body against hers so badly. “I’ve seen worse.”

you sigh, curling up on the opposite side of her stitches, “that’s the problem,” you murmur. “you’ve seen worse.”

she scoffs, running a hand through your hair, “I can take of myself, (y/n).”

“hm? I need said you couldn’t,” you take in a sharp breath. “I just want you to be safe, mizu, I need you to be safe.”

“I cannot guarantee you that, you know this,” mizu furrowed her eyebrows.

“I know,” you started to draw circles across her chest with your fingertips. “yet here I am, choosing you anyway.. maybe my hope is somehow I can keep you safe. even if I have to d—“

she placed a finger to your lips, her eyes narrowed to slits.

“don’t you finish that sentence,” she grumbled. “that isn’t happening.”

you narrow your eyes right back, “if I die, mizu, it will be because I choose to die for you,” you gently pressed your fingers into her chest, sitting upward.

she gazed at you, seeing the passion and fire in your dark eyes.

she nodded, “I can’t stop you,” she tugged your head back onto her chest, “but know I won’t be happy if you choose to throw your life away for me.”

you chuckled, pressing your head firmly against her chest—listening to her heart beating steadily. knowing her heart was beating in her chest, steadily breathing, feeling her chest rise and fall—

—that was all you needed to keep you going.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: constantly wanting to tag taigen as a warning tbh (guys I don’t hate taigen by the way he just lightly pisses me off. otherwise he’s quite silly and pathetic <3)

[andvys]

Love will tear us apart // part three

Pairings: Eddie Munson x fem!reader 

Warnings: angst, mentions of nightmares, mentions of anxiety and ptsd, mentions of death, panic attacks, mentions of abuse

-

Eddie would never admit to himself that he enjoyed spending time with you, just the two of you, he could be more himself with no one else around. Even if there was still a part of him that just couldn't let his guard down.

You looked so pretty, you always do but something about how you looked under the dim light, got to him. He knows that the picture of you sitting on the counter right in front of him would imprint itself in his mind for the rest of his life.  Your eyes were so soft when you looked at him, the gentle smile on your face tugged at his heart strings, your skin looked so soft, even the part that was scarred. 

The scar. 

Eddie’s curiosity to look into your notebook grew more and more after seeing that scar on your thigh but he promised himself that he wouldn't look inside, that he would give it back tomorrow morning. 

Sighing, he shuts the door in his room and turns on the lights. He leans against his door for a moment, thinking about all the events that unfolded this day. He hasn't talked this much to you since, forever. 

He missed this, he missed you and he doesn't even know why. You have never been close, you have never been friends or anything close to it. You were nothing but enemies, for whatever reason. 

Eddie was the one who started it. You have tried to be his friend but he pushed you away and even humiliated you. He doesn't have a full explanation as to why  he treated you the way he did.

There was something that pulled him into you, no, everything pulled him into you. Your kindness, the sweet and soft side of you, the sound of your laugh, the soft look in your eyes, that beautiful smile on your lips, your voice.. but god, Eddie hates you and he doesn't even know why.

Perhaps the only reason why he hates you is because you’re everything he's not. 

You have functioning family. You live in a big house, in a nice neighborhood. Your grades are good, your future looks promising, people love you. 

You have everything. You are perfect. 

Eddie is not. 

At least that's what he thinks.

He knows it’s a stupid reason to hate someone.

His eyes fall on your notebook on his bed, something slipped out from between the pages. His brows draw together as he walks towards his bed, it’s a picture. Picking it up, he eyes it slowly. 

It’s a picture of you and Steve. You’re sitting on his lap, looking rather comfortable with his arms wrapped around you and his lips on your cheek, a lazy smile on your face as you look into the camera. 

Eddie’s expression hardens, his jaw tightens. A weird feeling settles in his chest the longer he stares at the picture. 

You look so happy.

Fuck. He doesn't know why it hurts to see you like that with someone. Steve Harrington of all people.

Throwing the picture down, he huffs in anger. He knows he has no right to feel so frustrated and angry. You aren’t dating, you aren’t even friends, hell, Eddie hates you but he can’t help it, he doesn't want to see you this way with someone else. He doesn't want to see you look at someone in that way. 

Running his hand through his hair, he looks at the notebook. He planned on giving it back, without looking inside again, without invading your privacy but now, now he doesn't care anymore. He grabs it, sits down on his bed and opens a random page. 

April, 26th 1985

The nightmares are getting worse again, every time I fall asleep, I keep seeing it, I keep hearing it, I can still feel it, as if it's all happening right. now. I can still feel it’s claws in my skin when it grabbed me and dragged me across my room and into the other side.. only this time I don’t make it. It kills me before I get the chance to fight it. 

Maybe I was supposed to die in there.. I know I would have died, if it wasn't for him.. 

I wish I could tell him that. I wish I could tell him that he is the reason why I’m still here, that he is the reason that I’m still alive. That he saved me. 

But I can’t. 

Eddie stares at it blankly. He doesn't know what he expected but he definitely didn't expect to feel even more confused. 

‘I can still feel it’s claws in my skin’ the scars on your thigh weren't caused by anything human, he knows that now, but what was it? Some wild animal? And what the hell did you mean by the other side? 

And who was he? Was it Steve? Did he save you?

“Jesus.” he mumbles, he stares at your handwriting before closing the book “what the fuck.”

-

When you walked into the classroom that morning, you didn't expect Eddie of all people to be the first in class, let alone see him sitting next to your usual seat. 

Was this going to be a regular thing now after yesterday? 

He’s looking out the window, playing with the rings on his fingers as he bounces his leg up and down. He turns his head as he hears footsteps approaching him. His eyes find yours, a teasing smirk tugs at his lips, the kind that let you know that he would hit you with some bullshit now. 

“Hi.” you mumble as you sit down next to him, trying to hide your face behind your hair. You don't need to see him how miserable and tired you look. 

“Good morning, sunshine.” he says cheerfully, leaning in to take a closer look at you, he chuckles “so, who kept you up all night, huh?” 

You roll your eyes, not even turning to look at him “please, just shut up, Munson.” you mutter, your night was bad enough, you didn't need him to ruin your morning too. 

"Ooh so was it the old guy from the bar?” he asks. 

A frown takes over your face as you turn to look at Eddie who only chuckles at the look on your face. 

“Well shit, I see stopping him last night didn't slow his roll.” 

You huff in anger as you turn away from him. You felt so disgusted by those old men last night and Eddie knew it, if you didn't say it, he could definitely see it and yet he was still making jokes about it. 

“Did you use protection at least? Wouldn’t want him having a baby at 50 to take car-“

“Just fuck off Eddie, not today. Please.” you mumble angrily, raising your hand to brush your hair away from your face.  

His eyes widen as he looks at your hand, his bandana, that he gave you last night, was tied around your wrist. His eyes soften, as he stares at it and then at you. There’s a frown on your face, you look tired and mad, certainly not anywhere near happy as you looked on the picture with Steve. 

He clenches his jaw, he doesn't know why he’s so pissed at the thought of the two of you together but he is fucking. angry.

“Damn old men and Harrington huh? Guess you’re open to all types.” he says in anger, not even caring about hurting you with his words.

You blink, your jaw almost dropped at his words, you feel disgusted and mad. Is that what he thinks of you? That you’re some slut that gets with every guy that even looks your way?

You turn towards him, there’s no trace of guilt or regret in his face, you shouldn't be surprised. Eddie always says what he thinks, he never sugarcoats anything, he never holds back either. He is serious about his words.

Shaking your head, an emotionless laugh leaves your lips. You feel like a fool for believing that there might be a chance for the two of you after last night. 

“Fuck this.” you mumble, grabbing your backpack, you get up and walk away from him and your usual seat. You walk to the other side of the classroom, away from him. 

Throwing your backpack down you sit down with an annoyed huff. You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes, you are frustrated and you are tired, your head hurts and you had the worst nightmare last night and yet somehow that’s not the reason that pushes you closer to a breakdown. It’s him. He’s hurting you, so much and he doesn't even know it. 

Every time he gives you the cold shoulder, every time he says the coldest and meanest things to you, he hurts you more and more. Shattering your heart a little more every time. 

You can feel his eyes on you but you don't even turn to look, not wanting to see the smug look on his face. You cross your arms over your chest and lean back in your seat. 

The day hasn't even fully started and yet you can’t wait for it to be over already. 

First period went by slowly, way too slowly. You couldn’t even concentrate on anything, you couldn't even remember what the teacher was talking about. You were too busy trying to ignore his eyes on you. Trying to ignore the annoying ticking of the clock that seemed way louder than usual. 

The ringing of the bell startles you, flinching at the sound. Something that doesn't go unnoticed by Eddie as he eyes you slowly. He feels bad for what he said to you, as much as you tried to hide it, the hurt look on your face was obvious even when you tried to hide it by putting on a brave expression, acting like his words didn't affect you in the slightest. 

He wants to apologize, he went too far this time but you rush out of the class room before he even gets the chance to walk up to you. 

“Fuck.” he mutters, grabbing his backpack, he jumps out of his chair and hurries out of the classroom, rushing through the hallways, he ignored the glares and whispers of the other students, “watch where you’re going freak!” someone yelled at him as he almost bumped into a group but he payed them no mind “y/n! wait!” he calls out as he spots you walking towards the bathrooms. He curses under his breath as you walk inside, not even glancing back at him. 

A defeated sigh leaves his lips, his shoulder slump as he looks at the door. He should just leave you alone but something keeps him from walking away and leaving this situation alone. 

Usually he’s good at burying the guilty feeling, acting like it doesn't hurt him to treat you the way he does but the hurt and shocked look on your face made him regret every dumb thing he ever said to you. 

You almost bump into him on your way out, stopping yourself just in time before you slam into his chest. You look up at him and roll your eyes as he speaks your name lowly. 

You try to walk past him but he steps in front of you “wait, please.” he says. 

“What the hell do you want, Eddie?” you sigh, crossing your arms over your chest as you look into his eyes. 

Only now as you are standing right in front of him does he notice the tired and exhausted look in your eyes. He thinks about the nightmares you have mentioned in your notebook. A pang of guilt hits him, he shouldn't even know about this. 

Your eyes look red and glassy, as if you had been crying all night. Fuck. He feels so horrible. 

“Listen, I-I’m sorry, I shouldn't have said that, that was mean.” he says.

You squint your eyes, chuckling darkly “what exactly are you talking about- cause you say mean shit all the time, Eddie.” 

Shit. He gulps as he watches your face contort in anger and frustration.

“I have never done anything to you, I have never said any of the mean and hurtful shit you throw at me all the time so what the hell is your problem, Munson?” you exclaim, breathing heavily, your stomach suddenly drops and you feel this overwhelming sensation out of nowhere. 

Eddie begins to stutter, face growing red as you stare at him, waiting for an answer. 

You blink, furrowing your brows, a weird feeling settles in your chest. Your heart begins to race and you feel like your throat is closing up. Eddie’s voice sounds further and further away, fading slowly. You look up at him in confusion, his lips are moving but you can’t hear him, all you’re able to hear is your own heartbeat and that annoying ticking sound again. You take a step back, stumbling slightly as you put your hand on the wall next to you, trying to steady yourself. 

“And I- whoa, you okay?” he asks, looking at you in concern. You put your hand on your chest, trying to take a deep breath “y/n?” Eddie takes a step towards you, putting his hand on your shoulder but you flinch away from his touch, pushing his hand off your shoulder, you throw your backpack down as you take another step back. 

“J-Just leave me alone, Eddie.” your voice sounds shaky and weak “f-fuck.” you mumble as you turn around and rush back into the bathroom not expecting him to follow you inside, you’re about to yell at him to leave you alone, when your knees wobble slightly, almost dropping to dirty floor, if it wasn't for Eddie catching you “hey- whoa, I got you.” he mumbles as he grips your waist tightly, he eyes your face in concern “what is it? Do you need to throw up?” he asks.

“N-No, I can't- I can't breathe.” you whimper, your vision blurs as tears fill your eyes, you try to push his hands off of you so you can sit down but he doesn't let go of you, instead he kneels down with you, not caring about sitting down on the disgusting bathroom floor “E-Eddie, I can’t-”

“I got you, y/n, just listen to me okay?” he grabs your face, tilting your head up so he can see your face. Your eyes are filled with tears, your bottom lip is trembling and you look so scared and terrified, his heart aches in his chest, seeing you this way hurts him for some reason “here.” he whispers, taking your hand in his, he gently pulls it up towards his chest, setting your palm against his warm chest “can you feel my heartbeat?” he asks, eyeing your face slowly. 

You nod as you look into his eyes, trying to blink your tears away. You would've felt embarrassed about this whole situation but your mind is too hazy to comprehend anything right now. 

“I want you to focus on it, focus on my heartbeat and on my breathing, try to match it okay?” he speaks, softly, caressing your cheek with his thumb while he keeps holding your hand against his chest. 

“O-Okay.” you whisper. 

Eddie moves closer to you, wiping a fallen tear off your cheek. He has never seen you cry before and he hopes to never see you cry again, he hates it.

You grip his shirt tightly, trying to feel his heartbeat but you can’t feel it and the fear inside you grows bigger and bigger, your throat closes up more and more.

“I-I can’t feel it.” you whimper, gripping his shirt tighter.

“Okay, okay- come here.” he whispers, letting go of your hand, he puts his arm around you and pulls you into his chest, holding you tight against him. Your body is shaking as you lean into him, sniffling loudly “hey, it's okay, just breathe with me.”

You try, you try to focus on his heartbeat as you lean your head against his chest. His chest feels comfortable, his touch feels warm as he rubs circles on your back. You breathe in and out, in, out, in, out and then, you breathe him in, his scent fills your senses. He smells good, you can’t make out what it is, your mind is in overdrive, you are overwhelmed with everything but he smells like home. 

Eddie smells like home.

“You’re doing good, sweetheart.” he whispers, he didn't mean for the pet name to slip out but you didn't notice it anyways. 

You close your eyes and focus on just this moment, just the feeling of his touch, his smell, his warmth, the feeling of his heart beating against your hand, the rising and falling of his chest. You push every other noise away, even your own heartbeat, your racing thoughts and the annoying sound of a clock in the distance. 

“You’re okay, y/n, I got you.” Eddie whispers as he moves his palm up your back until he’s cupping the back of your head. He notices how your breathing calms down slowly. 

Eddie’s heart flutters in his chest as you relax in his arms, your grip loosens on his shirt, letting go of it, you move your arms around his body, hugging him and god, it feels so good. It feels so good to hold you in his arms, to feel you moving closer to him and it feels so natural, you fit right into his arms. 

“You’re safe.” 

You are here, you are safe. Away from all the horrors you endured in the past.

His voice is soft, soothing, it calms you down, keeps you from falling into that dark pit, just like it did back then.

“I’m here.”

He holds you tighter, his touch feel more intense than before. He’s here, with you. This time there's no barrier between the two of you, his voice isn't faint, the room isn't cold, you can feel his touch, you can hear his voice, you can smell him.

You’re almost scared to open your eyes and realize that it was all just an imagination but he is really here and so are you and you can finally breathe.

You don’t want to let go of him, you don't want to pull away from him and go back to pretending that you don't care about him, pretend that you’re okay with the way things are between the two of you. 

“You with me y/n?” he asks, softly.

“Yes.” you whisper as you pull away from him, letting go.

Your eyes meet his warm brown ones, his eyes are filled with concern. 

You sniffle, raising your hand to wipe your tears away. You suddenly feel shy under his gaze, almost embarrassed and ashamed, you don’t want him to see you like this. 

“I-I’m sorry.” you whisper.

“What are you sorry for?” he asks.

You already miss his warmth.

“For this.” you mumble, gesturing to yourself, you are a mess right now and he had to see it “b-but thank you.” I wouldn't have made it without you.

“Don’t mention it.” he says, looking into your eyes deeply. I’m glad I could help you, I’m glad I could be there for you, I want to pull you into my arms and comfort you. “You okay now?” 

He looks like he wants to say something else but for some reason he holds back.

“Yeah, just tired.” you mumble, feeling your eyes grow heavy. You are tired and you need to get home before you pass out on this disgusting and dirty floor. 

“You should go home and get some sleep.”

“No, I’m good.” you say shaking your head.

“I can drive you.” he offers.

“No..I swear, I’m okay, I just- I’m good.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, leaning closer again.

You nod even though you weren't sure about it, you felt lightheaded and you could barely keep your eyes open. 

He sighs “okay but if you need someone to drive you home, j-just find me, okay?”

“Yeah.” you murmur as you push yourself away from him, you hold on to the sink behind you as you get up.

Eddie watches you slowly as he gets up as well. Your hand is still shaking, gripping the sink tightly, your knees wobble and just as he suspected you almost fall back down on the ground but Eddie catches you again. Gripping your waist tightly, he keeps you from falling.

“Okay.” he mumbles “you’re going home.” he says with a warning look on his face “come on, I’ll drive you.”

You wanted to protest, it was bad enough that he has seen all of this but you didn't have the strength to fight him right now and Eddie was stubborn, too stubborn. 

“Okay.” you whisper. 

“Can you walk or do I have to carry y-”

“No!” you interrupt him “I can walk.”

Eddie almost wants to laugh at your exclamation.

“Alright then, come here, put your arm over my shoulder.” 

You nod, not looking him in the eyes. This is so weird. Why is Eddie out of all people helping you? Why is he so nice and caring?

You put your arm over his shoulder as he pulls you closer, moving his arm around you, he lays his palm against your waist. Through the thin material of your shirt, he can feel something, another scar. A wave of sadness washes over him, it seems as though you have endured nothing but pain. Seeing you like this was the evidence of it, the scars on your body, the haunted look in your eyes. He knows something horrible happened to you. 

The drive was mostly quiet, you were on the verge of falling asleep as you gave him directions to your house. His music was playing softly in the background, not blasting through the whole car as usual. 

Eddie kept glancing at you to make sure that you didn't fall asleep- and to make sure that you are okay. You looked so different today. So small and fragile.  Your eyes look dull with sadness as you stare out the window. 

Eddie doesn't want to let his guard down around you, he doesn't want you to know that he cares but he can't help but speak your name softly before asking “are you okay?”

You turn to look at him, surprise written all over your face. For some reason that leaves you more surprised than the fact that he has helped you through a panic attack, that he held you to his chest and stroked your hair while you cried and tried to breathe- surely Eddie would have done this for anyone. But the soft tone in his voice, his warm brown eyes and the genuine look on his face as he asked you this question almost brought tears in your eyes, no one asked you how you are really feeling in a long time. You wanted to say no, you wanted to say that you are not okay, that you have these horrible thoughts, these terrifying nightmares and this fear that latched onto you, that seems to be taking over you, over your mind, over your body.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” you say.

Eddie doesn't believe you. The look in your eyes wasn't genuine but he nods anyways and looks away from you. 

He stops the car in your driveway, he hates this neighborhood, sure it looks good, big houses, expensive cars in the driveways, it looks clean and it’s pretty but Eddie hates it and he hates the people here.

“Oh fuck.” you mumble as you look at your front porch.

Eddie furrows his brows as he turns to look at you, for some reason you look even more afraid than before, following your gaze, he finds someone sitting on the steps of your front porch, smoking a cigarette as he looks directly at you with an angry expression on his face.

Eddie looks blankly at him, then recognition dawns on him. He was one of the assholes who bullied him before he graduated two years ago. He would never forget the things he said and did to him. 

What was he doing here?

“Y-You know him?” Eddie asks, looking back at you.

“Unfortunately.” you mumble “he’s my brother.” 

What? 

Eddie’s grip tightens on the steering wheel as his eyes flash with anger. He doesn't know why his mind goes there, you clearly look terrified as you look back at your brother but he can’t help but ask himself ‘was this the only reason why you tried to be his friend back then? So you could get close to him and humiliate him, the way your brother did in middle school when he acted like he wanted to be his friend?’

Eddie clenches his jaw in anger, he feels betrayed, even though he has no reason to. 

“I-I’m gonna go. Uh thank you for driving me home.” you stutter, you notice the angry look in his eyes as he looks at you, confused by the sudden change, you cower back slightly “a-and thank you for what you did for me.”

“I didn't do it for you.” he speaks coldly, his voice and his eyes were void of any emotions “I just wouldn't be able to live with myself if something worse happened after I left.”

You blink, a shiver runs down your spine at the way he looks at you. His eyes were no longer looking at you with concern or worry now, they were filled with anger and hatred as always, making your stomach drop. You hold his gaze for a moment and you can see it all in his eyes, all the hatred he holds in his heart for you and it hurts. 

You nod as you turn away from him, your eyes burn with tears. You grab your backpack and open the door, you jump out, holding onto the door for a moment before you turn around to look at him “still, thank you, I wouldn't have made it without you. You saved me.”

Eddie furrows his brows at your words, at the deep look in your eyes and the way you said it makes him think that you were talking about something else entirely. 

His eyes soften and he is about to speak up when you tear your gaze away from him and slam the door before walking away from his van. He sighs as he watches you walk to your house. 

“Fuck.” he sighs, he doesn't know why he feels so horrible. 

He watches as you walk up the steps, past your brother who gets up the moment you walk past him, ignoring him. Eddie leans forward as he witnesses your brother grabbing your arm roughly, yanking you towards him, you lean back as your brother speaks to you. 

Eddie’s eyes widen as he watches your interaction. Anger flashes in his eyes as he watches you try to rip your arm out of your brother’s grip, who only pulls you closer in response as he yells at you. Eddie is about to jump out of the car but you manage to pull your arm back, yelling something at your brother before you storm inside your house.

Your brother turns around, looking directly at Eddie with a glare on his face. Eddie matches the look on his face, giving him a death glare. He clenches his jaw, he would love nothing more than to walk up to him and get in a few good punches- both for what he did to him and for the way he treated you just now but instead he rips his gaze away from him and backs out of the driveway.

Eddie sighs, gripping the steering wheel tighter. You were right when you told him that he knows nothing about you. Eddie didn't know you had a brother, let alone such an asshole of a brother. 

His first reaction was to think that you might be just like him but after seeing that little interaction between the two of you, a bad feeling settled in his chest. 

Was he the reason for the scars on your body? 

Was he the reason for the panic attack earlier?

[luveternals]

paring: 4. simon 'ghost' riley x artist male reader. cw: introvert reader with low self-esteem, there's a waiter whose love language is food, ghost has selective mutism(tell me if I got anything wrong), swearing, the seafront location was originally inspired by Naples' Lungomare, Italy. <- posto da visitare assolutamente, guys. a/n: bam! they thought I was gone, but I ain't. Lol guess whose first language isn't English. anyway, new posts' schedule: still to be decided (check the my pinned post). ~ ~ ~

You've seen this trend around for a while and decide worse case scenario people get offended, call you a creep, and you won’t be able to show your face to the public ever again.

What could possibly go wrong?

Put on the brave face, man, you tell yourself taking in a fortifying breath. It’s not that they don’t know how much of a loser you already are.

Not wanting to be the stalking weirdo on the train or subway, you choose a nearby café. They know you here, at least. Though, you can’t decide if it’s for the better or worse.

The waiter is already setting up a tray on the counter when you open the door, and from the cheeky little wink he gives you, you know it’s for you. Noah knows your goto morning food and drink, though you never told him. He found out all on his own — honestly, you don’t even recall having a favorite to begin with.

“There he is,” he says and pushes the tray towards you when you stop at the counter, “precious little artist. Punctual as ever.”

You try to smile, but it pulls at your lips and you know it looks nothing but awkward. “How do you know I might change my order today?”

“Are you going to?”

You shrug.

“Thought so.” He pokes at the tray and points at your table, set way at the back of the café. “Now, this better not go cold, hmm,” he leans forward and squints at you, “I mean it.”

You huff at him and turn away with the tray in hand. “Whatever, mom.”

“Oh!” you hear him gasp offended, “kids these days.”

Idiot.

One thing is certain, being a loyal customer of theirs has its little perks. One being your usual table has an unspoken reservation on it. Every time you come here, it’s there for you. The fact that people don’t usually sit this far from the counter unless there’s no other option is an appreciated bonus. You place the tray on the table, set your bag on the empty chair next to yourself, and finally take a seat.

Unsure of how to start, you pick Noah as the first subject of your little experiment. He’s been nagging you about making a portrait of him for ages now, so you know for a fact he’s not going to mind.

You start your sketch with his beaming face. A circle for the shape of the head. A downward line at the center to keep everything spaced correctly. Find the position of eyes and nose. Shape of the face. Erase the lines you don’t need anymore.

You brush off the little eraser crumbs away and raise your head to check his face again. He’s turned away though, and your attention slides to the customer in front of him waiting for his turn.

He’s a hulking figure, dark wear and face mask covering mouth and nose. You’ve never seen him around before.

Noah's café is small and cozy, tucked away in a little corner. Tourists don’t really pick this as their first choice.

You move to draw on an empty part of the page.

-

“Oh ho! Looky here.”

You jerk and almost fall off the chair at the sudden presence peering over your shoulder. "Jesus, fu— what the hell is wrong with you?”

He steals the sketchbook and flips through the pages. “Love struck, aren’t we?” he snickers, inspecting the lastest drawings you’ve added to your collection.

You snatch the book back and fight the urge to check if anyone heard. “I thought I told you not to touch without permission.”

“I’m sorry,” he says and raises his hands before him, “I just… it’s been a while since I saw you draw so passionately, and I got curious. thought you lost your muse.” He glances down at the sketchbook and gives you a playful grin, “I guess you found a new one?”

-

“It’s been an eternity, are you ever going to talk to him?” Mr I-don’t-know-how-to-mind-my-own-business sets a second pastry you never ordered beside your empty plate and lean over to look at your current drawing.

“Can you, like, leave me alone?”

“You’re an artist,” he says with the flattest tone, “without me, who would keep you fed and hydrated and alive, you?”

You purse your lips and raise your chin to stare up at him. How dare he? You don’t need no one’s help to take care of yourself, thank you very much. It’s not like you forget time passes when you're drawing and end up with only breakfast in your belly all day. it happened, sure. Still.

“You know what, you’re being a real pain right now,” you say and stand intending to leave the café and head to the park or something.

Of course, your action is too abrupt and you end up bumping into someone who was making their way to a table near yours. And catastrophe happens.

When you turn, you realize the person you knocked into is the man you’ve been drawing these last days. Even worse, his eyes are locked onto your open sketchbook right on the spread littered with portraits and drawings of him.

Fuck.

Here comes the part where he thinks you're a weirdo and leaves the café with the intention of never coming back.

“Oh, hello!” Noah says and wiggles his fingers at the man with an overly cheery expression. “My friend here was just about to come and talk to you about these,” he says, gathering your drawings and shoving them into your arms, “he’s a little shy, so he needed a little push,” he adds, then shoves you towards the other man.

You stumble but recover quickly, and when you turn to glare at your friend he simply sends you a wink and mouths ‘don’t be a loser and ask him out’.

“He’s not even being subtle at it.” You don’t expect the man to talk to you at all, or to stay after that to begin with. There’s amusement in his voice and when you meet his gaze, you find a soft look in his eyes.

“Yeah,” you say, breathless. From this close up, his eye color catches your attention and you have to refrain yourself from leaning closer and finding out how it is that it seems to change from hazel-brown to blue and back. “Yeah,” you say again and drop your attention back to your things to stop yourself from staring, “he’s an idiot. But he's a good friend despite it all. He pretty much keeps me alive by shoving food into my face.”

-

Talking to Simon is not as awkward as you'd told yourself it'd be. He doesn’t judge you for all the drawings you did of him and instead compliments you on your skill. He does tease you, though.

“If I knew I was being stared at for so long I would have posed.”

“Shut up.”

“Need a model? I could do naked as well if you want.”

“Ugh.”

His laugh is contagious and you're helpless, so the teasing doesn’t stop.

-

Friendship with him is not the same as with Noah.

The waiter is a beaming ball of life, open and bold and buzzing with energy. You love him but, sometimes, spending time with him is quite exhausting. 

Simon on the other hand, he knows silence. 

He sits at your table, book in one hand and tea in the other, enjoying the simple company that is your presence despite not having said a word since the simple greeting you shared this morning.

Noah gives you a thumbs up from over Simon's shoulder.

-

“Why don't you just use a normal pencil for sketching?”

You peer up at him, hunched over the page. He's not even looking st you, but you know he's waiting for answer, curious and with real interest.

The first time he asked you a question, you've fumbled with your words unsure if he cared at all and if you'd scared him of with your chatter. Words aren't for you, but the longer you talk about the same thing on and on, you figure he doesn't mind and didn't ask just to have some awkward small talk. And so you blabber on about how it makes it easier to distinguish the first quick sketch with a color and the details you've added later with another.

He's eyes are pinned on you now, and you find you don't really mind being stared at like you thought you would.

-

“Ask him out.”

You haven’t even reached the counter and Noah is already at it. “Can you not?”

“Precious, I can see the love struck dreamy smile you give him from a mile away,” he says, adding a second steaming cup to your tray. “Introvert doesn’t mean allergic to people. You’re not the complete failure at socializing you imagine yourself being.” He pushes the tray towards you and leans against the counter. “youst case scenario, if he says 'no' I’ll go with you.”

You grimace. And then wide the look off your face when you register your reaction. “I mean— it's not that I don’t like you, it’s just that—”

“Wow, man. Wow,” he scoffs, “this is worse than when you left the sketch of my face half done.”

Oh, fuck. You forgot about that one?

“Whatever, man,” he says with a roll of his eyes, his lips twitch at the corners. “If he does say 'no', I'll buy you that kit you’ve been swooning over for the past month. Best quality color and all that.” He waves at you to move along, only to pull your tray closer to himself again and popping a tiny little pastry right in the middle. Then sends you off to your doom.

-

“I've been thinking,” you blurt out in response to his ‘mornin’’.

Simon pauses right about to take a seat, raises an eyebrow and finally settles down. “Have you, now?”

“Yeah,” you say and tap the end of your pencil against the table. “Yeah. Do you like the park? No, wait. Do you like going to the park with me— would you…” You take in a breath and raise your gaze to the ceiling, “really, now?”

After a long moment, you shift your attention back to him ready to try again. His eyes are shining, little wrinkles decorating the corner of his eyes.

The mask covers it, but you know for a fact that he's smiling.

You feel your cheeks going warmer and you have to fight the urge to backtrack and hide behind your sketchbook. “Do you wanna,” you say, “go to the park with me?”

-

It's an oddity to find him already seated, no tea in sight either. From the look Noah gives you, after a month of simon coming in every day, this is a novelty for him as well.

You bring your tray to the table and sit beside him without a comment, only a simple greeting and a gentle smile. You set a cup of tea before him, alongside one of the sweets Noah refused to take back when you told him it was probably too much food. He actually looked offended by the comment.

“It’s double the stuff he usually gives me, Simon,” you say when he tries to have you keep it, “just eat it. Or better, help me finish it all, I beg you.”

He stares at the food for a long moment, then visibly gives up on convincing you. He doesn't touch it though.

The tea goes ignored as well.

You purse your lips. Well, that won’t do.

“Say,” you start and tilt your head to catch his gaze, “do you wanna go out for a walk? There’s a place I wanted to show you.”

He watches your face, then shifts his attention around the café, on Noah and finally on the food he left untouched.

“I'll have Noah put everything in a bag. I know he won't mind.”

He hesitates, but nods.

You smile at him and beam when the gesture seems to lessen the tension on his shoulders.

You bring him to a local bookstore. Like with the café, this is a little business famous mostly in the neighborhood. It’s never overly crowded but there’s always a kid or two binging their current read.

You leave him to scan the shelves and move to do the same not far.

Hah! They’ve finally restocked the stationary corner. Hooray! You definitely don’t need another journal, but no one can stop you from staring at them with gut wrenching despair.

Would Simon like it if I bought him one?

At the thought you turn to search for him and find him already making his way to you with a new book in hand.

You've got the membership card here so you manage to convince him to let you pay. Both for his book and the journal you're holding.

-

You don’t know many places to visit, but those you are familiar with are the best for those who don’t care for ‘crowded’.

The seafront isn’t one of them but you hope the view will make up for it.

It’s a risky move, but you think you’ve grown close to him enough to know he's quite comfortable with being by himself, but sometimes silence isn't what he wants or needs.

Noah told you you’re a pretty good observant and that analyzing the world around you is what makes you an artist. So you hope he wasn’t making that up.

There's a little corner towards the end. Here the view is partially covered but when you check his face, you're glad to discover he doesn't seem to mind at all. He hasn't said a word at all since you met this morning, but his attention has been pinned on you all day even after the nonsense rant you've gone on about AI art. 

You pull out a thermos from the café’s cute, little bag and hand it to him like an hesitant offering. His tea has been kept safe and warm inside all morning, but you don't know if he'll accept it after earlier. 

His eyes soften and he takes the thermos with the same care you've handled it with, and holds it in both hands like he wants to keep it safe.

A spark of hope warms your insides, so you take out two pastries and hand one to him. "He's going to make me eat more tomorrow," you say and take a bite, as if to show him Noah does know how to bake — oh, yep, he really does. God. "And you haven't had breakfast yet. Please?"

It takes a moment, but eventually, he turns away from any unwanted gaze, moves his face mask out of the way, and brings the food to his mouth to take a bite.

It slow, delibeate and so very careful, but he's eating, and now you finally understand. How Noah cares so much about keeping you fed. 

~ ~ ~ a/n: I'm not entirely sure if I got it right. Here's what I was thinking: noah is there to keep the reader from neglecting himself; ghost is a new face at the café and with a little push they become friends; reader starts taking care of ghost end consequently takes care of himself. comment, reblog and/or follow. yadda, yadda, yadda, this blog feeds off feedback or it'll go boom! don't just like please...

[eldritch-nightmare]

heyy!! can i request LJ and Candypop ( ,,if you write for him) sharing a fem!reader? (headcanons or something else) i don’t mind <33

a/n: I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT CANDY POP WAIT omg he's one of those creepypastas that i heard about but never really looked into so. first time writing him so i hope i did him justice for you! i wasn't sure if you wanted something more lighthearted or something darker so i did my best to keep it balanced.

LJ and Candy Pop sharing a fem!reader.

warnings: my knowledge of candy pop comes from the creepypasta files wiki page so just a heads up if i get something wrong, opted to make reader a creepypasta here but it's very vague, lj and candy pop are like frenemies in this i suppose, sorta hints that the reader might've been forced into this relationship, my hand slipped and i dropped a 'good girl' in here somewhere i couldn't help myself, possessive behavior from both of them, implied unhealthy relationship.

Man, what's it like having a 7ft tall imaginary monochrome clown that terrorizes children and a 7ft tall colorful Night Terrors possessed jester be in love with you? It's probably a strange experience.

They both argue over who caught feelings for you first. LJ swears up and down that he fell for you first, but Candy Pop claims it to be love at first sight. Honestly, you've just chosen to believe that they both fell for you around the same time.

The two of them were definitely hesitant to share you, though that was more on Candy Pop's side than it was LJ's. Listen, sharing a body/soul with the literal demon king makes you a bit possessive over things, okay?

You don't particularly mind either way, to be honest. They're both a bit... much to handle at times, but you guys make it work. Like... literally. You had to plan out an entire schedule and everything because they kept bickering about how much time the other spent with you.

LJ gets you on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays while Candy Pop gets you on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Sundays are days you spend alone because it's always good to have some time for yourself.

Of course, they don't... follow the schedule that often. Why would they? They aren't confined to the mortal chains of schedules.

They are both equally romantic in their own right, and you won't lie, you certainly have enjoyed a few of the spontaneous dates they've taken you on. Sometimes, they'll even get together long enough to plan out an outing for all three of you. They can get along, see?

Now, we can't forget that they are both murderous entities. One is an imaginary friend turned serial killer and the other is... something. A demon? A poor possessed soul of a jester? Whatever he is, he's deadly. Shall I provide some examples?

Example one: Laughing Jack was abandoned by the one person he was created to befriend, so trust me when I tell you that he has some deeply rooted abandonment issues. He's all fun and games until there's even the slightest possibility of you leaving him. Even if someone makes an offhand remark about how you should leave him, his entire persona does a complete 180.

Suddenly, his hold on you is just a bit more tighter than it normally is, and you can feel his nails digging into your skin, threatening to draw blood. It's a subtle, silent threat of what he could do to you if you ever tried leaving him.

Example two: Candy Pop, as a whole, is somebody you have to be wary around because his mood can flip like a switch. He'll be happily humming away about some random topic one moment, and the next he's pushing you up against a nearby wall and looking at you with such a crazed look that it's almost hard to believe that this is the same person who claims to be in love with you.

He's the type to remind you of where you belong. You belong by his and LJ's side, so don't you ever forget that, okay? You really don't want to see what'll happen if you do.

In the end, though LJ and Candy Pop have a habit of bickering with each other, they'll make one hell of a team if it means keeping you in their grasp. You don't fit with anyone but them, and you don't need to fit with anyone other than them. They're the perfect match for you, and you'll come to see that sooner or later. So, all you need to do is be a good girl and stay by their side, got it?

It's Sunday. Sundays are supposed to be your day. You had plans to hang out with the other girls, maybe even play dress up with Sally if she was up for it. So, why the hell were you currently stuck in bed, sandwiched between a clown and a jester?

You have no clue because you just woke up and they were already here. Sure, you could just… wiggle your way out of bed but then they would wake up. Do they even need to sleep? They aren't mortal like you are, so sleep doesn't seem like a necessity to them. But it's not like you can just stay in bed all day either. You had things you wanted to do!

So, with a very silent sigh, you slowly start to sit up, untangling yourself from the mass of limbs trapping you to your bed. You were able to sit up with relative ease, the hard part would be crawling over either LJ or Candy Pop to get out of bed. That would be… that would be difficult.

Even if you were to try and crawl over one of them, you weren't able to because before you could even decide which one to crawl over, you were being pushed back into laying down again by Candy Pop.

You let out a small 'oof' as soon as your back hit the mattress.

"Where do you think you're going?" You hear LJ ask, and with one quick glance at him, you can see a slight pout on his face. It was almost enough to make you forget about the feeling of his nails gently grazing your stomach.

If he just decided to dig them into your--

"She's not going anywhere." Candy's voice murmurs directly next to your ear, effectively cutting off your train of thought. You only belatedly realize that he had buried his face into your neck, his hair brushing against your face, "Right, angel?"

Well… it seems like you're not going to be getting rid of these two today, so whatever plans you had for the day were going to have to be put on hold until next Sunday. You just hoped the two of them didn't make a habit of this.

[soft--dragon]

Loosen Up

So recently I finished Vox Machina and if you haven't seen I highly recommend it!! SUCH a good show oh my lord. Can't wait for the third season to drop :D

You can view the relationships however you like, I don't mind ^^ (except Vex and Vax, they're siblings, don't be weird :/)

Word Count: 3,138

Warnings: Kinda spoils a plot line in season one but nothing major ^^

This is a SFW tickle fic, if you don’t like that then don’t read :)

It isn’t a secret that Percy is a bit of a stick in the mud.

Rarely did he let his walls down and simply be. Too caught up in his world of smoking guns and exploding inventions. A lifetime of heartache shutting his heart away in a cast iron keep that very few had a key to access. This also meant emotions such as joy, love, and contentment were rare to be exposed from behind those defensive gates.

That was before Vox Machina. 

A chaotic, rambunctious group of outcast individuals working with the skills they had to make it through another day. A ragtag family doing its best to survive in a world that would spit at their feet and tell them to fuck off. 

However, this family knew how to tell the world right back to fuck off too. 

Percy honestly couldn’t imagine his life with these people a few years ago, but now he simply could not fathom a reality without them. Tight-knit and stupid and loving, never faulting in their care. It was something Percy told himself to never take for granted, no matter how much they tested his patience. 

Much like tonight, where he was being subjected to the most irritating forces known to man: Vex and Vax when they were on the hunt for entertainment.

Percy is sitting near the fire, sketchbook in hand with rough charcoal drawings of new inventions scattering the pages. Vex and Vax have boxed him in by sitting on either side, peering at his notes and asking such incomprehensibly odd questions Percy wanted to know who the hell tutored these two monsters.

Honestly Vax, why would a pistol need a compartment for snacks? 

It took almost fifteen minutes before Percy's patience gave in and the notebook snapped shut with a dull thud. “Are you two quite finished?” Percy demands, staring at the duo with a narrow gaze. 

Vex grins, raising a hand in surrender. “We’re curious about your new inventions, love. Is there something wrong with that?”

Percy huffs, tucking his book into the folds of his jacket that is laid not too far from the flames, warming up for the night ahead. “Only when you keep badgering me to make a glove that turns whatever it touches into gold.”

“It would be quite helpful, dear.”

“And far out of my current capabilities, I’m not a wizard.”

“Oh, give yourself some credit, Freddy,” Vax grins. “Grow a beard and I’d say you’re plenty wizard-like. With your lifespan, you’ll need a cane before you know it, and it could act as your staff.”

Percy glares at him under half-lidded eyes. “Thank you, Vax’ildan,” he says sarcastically. “Remind me that I will die much sooner than the rest of you, just what I needed to hear tonight.”

Vex snickers, gently bumping his shoulder with her own so those green eyes look at her. “Oh come on, we’re just messing with you, Percival. What’s got you so grumpy this time?”

Percy gave her a mildly incredulous look. “I’m not grumpy.”

“He says while glaring, and with a bitter tone of voice,” Vax murmurs with a grin. 

Percy shoots him a dry look which the male elf only laughs at. “See? That’s exactly what I mean, man!”

Vex’ahlia laughs, dropping her arms over her bent legs and cocking her head to the side. “What is it gonna take to make you loosen up, Percy?”

“A good bottle of wine, some peace and quiet, and a book.”

“We have two silver to our name and a bear,” Vax counters. “Can’t quite match your aristocrat taste, but Trinket tells great stories.”

Trinket, nestled comfortably at the edge of the cave where the other party members are conversing, does not indicate that he knows, nor cares that his owners are talking about him. Percy envied that damn bear, able to go to sleep and easily block out the surrounding sounds. What a dream life. 

“Trinket is busy sleeping,” Percy tells them, “his stories will have to wait.”

Vex isn’t dissuaded by Percy’s bristling attitude, instead leaning more into his personal space just because she can. “Darling,” she says, “We just want to help you relax, is this such a big ask?”

“...Yes.”

“Aeugh, the drama of this man,” Vax chuckles through an exasperated breath, elbowing Percy’s side gently. 

The white-haired human flinches away from the contact with a start, his hand shooting down to rub the area. “Yes, yes, you’ve stated I am a dramatic piece of shit more than once, Vax. I believe your point is made.” 

The twins aren’t listening to Percy’s grumbles. The second he flinched, they’d locked eyes, a conversation played out with expression alone.

Vex narrows her gaze. Hurt?

No. Healed by Pike from the last mission.

Just startled, then? 

Seemed more than that. He knew we were right there.

So what are you thinking? 

Perhaps…

Vex perks a brow at her brother when his expression suddenly brightens in some kind of realization. Her eyes flit over to Percy who was unaware of their silent musings, still resolutely crossing his arms with a scowl that the fire did not deserve to be subjected to. She looks back to her sibling who is grinning now. Vax gives a small flex of his fingers, his eyebrows jumping up and down. Understanding hits Vex and her smile turns evil, nodding minutely. They wink at each other, the excitement for a game making them giddy though they contained it. Couldn’t let Percy catch on too early after all. 

“Percy~” Vex coos in her sultry voice, not missing the slight twitch in his face from her tone. The sight makes her all the more eager to extract the plan she and her brother had silently communicated. She lifts her fingernails to her eyes to examine them. “You sure we can’t convince you to loosen up at least a little?”

There was a scoff. “I’d like to see you try,” Percy muttered.

Oh excellent, an invitation. 

“Well, if the man insists, Stubby, who are we to ignore him?” Vax leaps for the opportunity with a grin that’s all charm and Cheshire-like. 

“I agree,” Vex smirks. “Shall we?”

Simultaneously, the two half-elves grab one of Percy’s wrists each and fling him onto his back, his arms being pinned by his head. A startled yelp leaps out of the human, the sudden gravity shift leaving him to stare up at the pair of matching grins. He tugs at his arms. They won’t budge. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Percy asks, bewildered and slightly on edge. 

“You said we could try and loosen you up,” Vex answers.

“By wrestling me to the dirt and pinning me down?” 

“Oh no, we just had to get you in a better position, dear heart,” Vax smirks.

“A better pos- for what?” 

The bemused and exasperated question only delights his captors further, and this is where Percival Fredrickson de Rolo the Third realizes a very fatal error. He had been encouraging the chaotic force that was the Elf Twins. He'd practically been asking for trouble. This realization only sinks in further when Vax’s free hand comes down to rest on Percy’s clothed stomach.

“Percy, you wouldn’t happen to be ticklish would you?” 

Oh.

Oh gods, no.

Memories spring to Percy’s mind of laughing himself hoarse while dogpiled under his siblings from the silly battles. The sensations scuttling everywhere, unstoppable and unbearable. His realization shows up in his face in the form of a pink flush and the beginnings of a wobbly grin that he desperately tries to keep under control.

“Oh, I see a smile trying to come out there!” Vex leers keenly, lowering her own hands to wiggle her fingers close to Percy’s side, delighting in his immediate response to wriggle away despite his efforts to seem indifferent to his dilemma. 

“V-Vex, this is ludicrous-” Percy splutters, his grin becoming wider by the second, his resolution foiled from years of inexperience in this game. 

“So you are ticklish, then?” Vax questions, his fingers gently pressing from where they are resting atop Percy’s lean stomach. 

The flinch and sharp intake of breath was answering enough. Percy’s ears were starting to burn from the attention, torn between wanting to wrench away and escape this playful teasing, or staying and trying to muscle through in a show of defiance. 

“I’m- it’s been a very long time since someone has tried,” Percy answers stiffly. 

The way the twins lit up made him cringe back, instantly knowing that was the worst thing he could’ve said.

“Well now we have to tickle you,” Vex exclaims like her word is law. Though, with her role in the group, it may as well be. 

Percy is most definitely blushing now. It was honestly adorable. “N-No you don’t!” He protests, his boots now shuffling into the dirt in hopes of dislodging his sudden capture. “I’m not even tihicklish!” Damn it.

“Was that a laugh?” Vax coos, delighting in a sound so rare from Percy who barely even grins on a good day. Percy is doing his best to try and become an ostrich with how far he’s turning his flushed face into the ground, stumbling refusals not quite managing to leave his lips coherently. 

“Why my dear brother, I think it was,” Vex chuckles. ‘Shall we see what else we can pull from our resident sour puss?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Electricity crackles through Percy’s sides and stomach in a split second, a strangled sound being pulled from a forgotten section of his vocal cords. His whole body instantly jack-knifes, legs trying to pull to his stomach to protect the sensitive areas suddenly under attack. Stubbornness makes him clamp his lips shut and bite his tongue, not wanting to give the twins the satisfaction of hearing him laugh again. He refused.

“Hmm, seems we’ve got a stubborn one in our hands, Vex,” tuts Vax, his fingers probing up and down Percy’s ribcage, noting every flinch and muffled grunt let out by the human. 

“Oh don’t worry, he’ll crack eventually.” Her eyes meet Percy’s and her smile makes his stomach twist in anticipation. She winks. “They all do.”

Her hand starts to slink down to his hip bones and- Nope. Nope. Nope. Not gonna happen, he’d rather get possessed by a demon again. Percy’s struggling kicks up, trying to find momentum with his legs to dislodge the grip pinning his wrists to the cave floor, still fighting not to crack as Vax’s fingers deftly squeeze his sides. He almost manages to heave himself to sit up, but a well-placed scratch at his lower back sends him crashing back down. His legs fly up to his stomach again, desperate to protect some part of his sensitive body while his chest shakes with restrained laughter. 

“Uh uh, not yet mister, we’re not done with you until you laugh~” says Vex, her hand dropping to lightly scuttle behind Percy’s knee that was right beside her.

Percy yelps, immediately kicking his legs back out, and scrunches into himself in a fast motion. The reaction made the twins pause, and he knew he was royally screwed. 

“Interesting, he might be like you. I think the gentler stuff works better on him,” Vex says to her brother, her hand dropping to Percy’s hips once more and scuttling her nails featherlight across the man’s skin.

“NoHAHaha!” Percy protests, his yelp swimming between stolen laughter that tries vainly to escape his throat, his head being tossed back against the floor as his body tries to do an emergency lockdown on his vocal cords. 

“Brilliant, sister,” Vax chuckles, and before Percy can prepare himself, he spiders his claws up along Percy’s stretched torso with a softened touch.  

Immediately, Percy sputters, and the dam finally cracks. “S-Shihihihit! Vehehex! Vahahax! Ohoho gohohod!” Percy gasps out through fits of boyish laughter, a sound so out of character for the gunslinger that it takes the twins aback in surprise.

His cheeks are flushed a rosy pink, standing out against his pale complexion and white hair. A wide, mirthful smile cracked out against his brooding face, nose scrunching in a way that couldn’t be described as anything but endearing. His body didn’t know whether to fight or fold, the long-forgotten instinct of childhood leaving him withering and laughing from the soft fingertips spidering along sensitive skin.

“Well, how about that,” Vax murmured, something gentle in his voice despite the mean wiggling of his nails on a particularly sensitive rib. “He can laugh.”

“Oh much more than that, dear brother,” Vex smiled fondly. “He isn’t grumpy now.”

Experimentally, her fingers swirl up Percy’s unprotected ribs to dance gently under his arm to see if it would have much effect. Oh, and it does. Percy practically squeals. High-pitched and panicked and childlike, his struggles for his pinned arms make a reappearance as the sensitive hollows are attacked by softly brushing nails. 

“Nononononohohoho VEHEehehex!” He pleads, scuffing the heels of his shoes into the floor in a half-baked bid for relief. “Fuhuhucks sahahake!” 

“That is utterly adorable,” Vax laughs, his own hand coming up to stroke deftly down Percy’s arm from wrist to armpit in a maddening pattern of soft touch. The strokes only elicit more half-bitten squeals and squeaks of protest, most noises swallowed up or blended into Percy’s laughter.

He knew he should feel embarrassed, his pride shattered into pieces from a few measly fingers and well-picked words to crack his defenses, but Percy couldn’t recall a time he’d last been in the middle of a play fight such as this. The sensations are foreign but not forgotten, too much and yet not enough at the same time. It was a conflicting state of escape or endure.

However, when Vax slipped a hand under his buttoned shirt to ghost gentle nails on his bare lower back, he was pretty sure his body got struck by lightning. 

“VAHAHAX! OHOHOhoho mihihy gohohod plehehehease! P-PLEHEhehehease!”” 

Vex and Vax pause in their movements and watch with awed amusement as Percy laughs himself mad from the briefest touch to his back, his full-bodied laughter quickly melting down into rich, honey-sweet giggles that shake his entire body. It didn’t seem real, that a sound so adorably childish could come from Percy’s mouth, and yet here he was, half curled on the ground, giggling up a storm. 

Vex and Vax share a fond, endeared smile and let go of Percy’s wrists, leaning away so he could have space to collect himself. The human wheezes through his tumbling giggles, his arms shifting to wrap around his middle as he slowly calms down. His eyes, which had been tightly closed, flutter open to show mirthful tears at the edges.

“F-Fuhucking hehehell,” he gasps, “I thohought I wahas gohohing to dihie.”

“Oh relax, we like you too much to kill you,” Vex snickers, offering her hand to Percy. She has to hold back a snort when he flinches mildly at her fingers, eyeing them distrustfully. “We’re done,” she promises.

After a suspicious look, Percy grasps her hand and allows her to tug him into a sitting position. One of his arms is still wrapped protectively around his stomach, his hand reaching far enough to rub that damn spot Vax had tickled for three seconds which caused him to fall apart. 

“Remind me to never piss you off,” Percy rasps, taking off his glasses to rub the tears in his eyes away.

Vax leans over to his supplies to snatch up his water skin, offering it to Percy who took it gratefully. “So,” Vax starts, watching Percy drink water like he hadn’t had it in years. “Soft touch and bad back, huh?”

Percy almost chokes. With a rough swallow, he recorks the water skin and clears his throat, stubbornly not looking at either of the twins. “Like I said, it’s been a long time. I didn’t think I still even was… well, you know.”

“What? Ticklish?’

Vex’s gentle tease makes Percy’s face burn for what felt like the millionth time that evening. He shoves his glasses back on his face despite the heat in his cheeks making them fog up mildly. The reaction makes the twins chuckle.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, Percy dear,” Vex soothes, an arm wrapping around his shoulders and rubbing gently at the nape of his neck - tension knotting the area from hours of leaning over a workbench while inventing. Percy winced at the attention, both from the anticipation of another attack and the ache of his tense muscles. 

“It’s embarrassing,” Percy grumbles without much heat, sounding like a petulant kid. “My siblings always ganged up on me because of it.”

“You have a nice laugh, I can see why they would,” Vax hums, tucking his water skin back into his nearby cloak.

The surprised look on Percy’s face almost made Vex tackle him back to the floor and tickle him again just so he could hear how precious his laugh was. She held herself back though, he’d had enough for tonight anyway. He hadn’t been tickled in years, he’d need to be introduced back to the game slowly. Tonight was an excellent first lesson. 

“So, Percy’s ticklish then?”

The sudden voice made the trio jump and look up to the other side of the cave where the rest of Vox Machina were watching them with grins. Scanlan, who’d asked the question, chuckled at the human’s sudden flush. “Yeah no, we saw the whole thing, de Rolo. Don’t expect this to be the last time, that was cute as fuck.”

Grog chuckled deeply. “Very cute,” he agreed in that rumbling voice of his. Pike, who was sat atop his shoulder nodded enthusiastically in agreement. 

“Had no idea you could laugh like that, Perce,” she chirped, glancing at Keyleth who giggled softly. 

“It was quite sweet,” the Air Ashari tacked on.

Percy stared at the group of people he called family, his eyelid twitching slightly and cheeks flushed a rosy pink. His gloved hands come up to press over his face, knocking his head into his bent knees, wishing the floor would just cave in and murder him quickly. 

“Aww, I think we’re embarrassing him,” Vax cooed, his hand resting atop Percy’s head and gently ruffling his hair in a brotherly fashion. “It’s alright, Giggles, you know we do it out of love.”

“F’ck off and die,” came the muffled grumble buried into Percy’s hands.

The twins cackled, pleased that they not only thoroughly shattered Percy’s indifferent demeanor, but got him flustered beyond repair from simple, playful affection and loving words. They were gonna have fun with this new information. It was their right as a family to carry on the de Rolo tradition of making Percival Fredrickson de Rolo the Third laugh, they wouldn’t let Percy’s late siblings down on that front.

[sunflowersandsapphires]

A Duplicate of Earth

When Skies Are Gray, Chapter 1 

Series Masterlist           Next Chapter

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader 

summary: Frank’s life has reached a crossroads: he can either continue to seclude himself and pursue a dark, lonely future, or he can open himself up to connecting with someone again and maybe achieve happiness. Being the grump that he is, Frank has already committed to the lonely path, but his curious new neighbor might just turn that around. 

Warnings: minors DNI, swearing, implied depression, implied eating disorder (the reader is going to be in recovery in this fic, if it gets graphic I will absolutely warn y’all. This is mostly therapeutic for me lol). 

a/n: This fic was so fun to write!! I love grumpy Frank with all of my heart and I think he deserves to have someone teach him how to feel joy again. So this is my attempt at that. It is loosely based on the poem "A Myth of Devotion" by Louise Gluck at the beginning of the chapter (which is SO Frank!Coded imo, like absolutely fits his fears and self-deprecation) and the myth of Hades/Persephone.

Lastly, a HUGE thank you to @saradika for the beautiful free divider I used in this fic!

w/c: 5.4k (poem not included, this is 17 pages y’all)

When Hades decided he loved this girl he built for her a duplicate of earth, everything the same, down to the meadow, but with a bed added.

Everything the same, including sunlight, because it would be hard on a young girl to go so quickly from bright light to utter darkness

Gradually, he thought, he'd introduce the night, first as the shadows of fluttering leaves. Then moon, then stars. Then no moon, no stars.

Let Persephone get used to it slowly. In the end, he thought, she'd find it comforting. A replica of earth except there was love here.

Doesn't everyone want love? He waited many years, building a world, watching Persephone in the meadow. Persephone, a smeller, a taster. If you have one appetite, he thought, you have them all.

Doesn't everyone want to feel in the night the beloved body, compass, polestar, to hear the quiet breathing that says I am alive, that means also you are alive, because you hear me, you are here with me. And when one turns, the other turns—

That's what he felt, the lord of darkness, looking at the world he had constructed for Persephone. It never crossed his mind that there'd be no more smelling here, certainly no more eating.

Guilt? Terror? The fear of love? These things he couldn't imagine; no lover ever imagines them.

He dreams, he wonders what to call this place. First he thinks: The New Hell. Then: The Garden. In the end, he decides to name it Persephone's Girlhood.

A soft light rising above the level meadow, behind the bed. He takes her in his arms. He wants to say I love you, nothing can hurt you but he thinks this is a lie, so he says in the end you're dead, nothing can hurt you which seems to him a more promising beginning, more true.

Tracing his fingers along the page, Frank reread the stanzas. He was not quite sure what kept drawing him back to this piece. He’d never been a fan of modern poetry, more drawn to the subtlety of the Victorian era. Yet every night this week, when his sweat-soaked body bolted upright with a gasping breath, he read through this piece while his heart rate slowed. 

He has a blurry memory of the story from his childhood. Studying the Greek gods in school, reading excerpts of the Iliad or whatever. He has always been drawn to this specific myth, for whatever reason. Hades and Persephone, darkness and light. But he doesn’t remember it feeling so…corrupt. 

The story he had learned was one of great romance: two unlikely lovers fighting against the odds, reshaping the earth to remain together. But the way Glück illustrates the story illuminated a more sinister interpretation. One night, in an insomnia-induced haze, he’d read page after page about the two gods, trying to find a definitive answer to the question that bounced around his mind. Did Hades ruin poor Persephone? Was their love itself ruinous?

Glück sure seemed to think so. Maybe that was what sparked his interest in the piece. The idea that love could tarnish something so pure—Frank sure had a fair share of experience with that. 

With a hefty sigh, he closed the book, glancing at the clock. 4:05 am. Digging the heels of his hands into his eyes, he weighed his options. 

“Up for a jog, Max?” Frank murmured, looking to the canine who was curled up in his crate. The dog just snored. “Suit yourself, bud.” 

Slipping into a pair of athletic shoes and a light sweatshirt to accompany his sweats, he stepped out the door and towards the stairs, almost colliding with a young woman frantically darting down the hall. 

“So sorry. Have a nice day!” The figure whisper yelled at him as she ran past. 

He takes a second to regain his bearings, before plastering on a scowl and heading off on his run. 

The outing was refreshing to a degree, but his mind was still plagued with thoughts of his wife and the darkness that had consumed her, just as it had Persephone. 

Curtis let his eyes follow the pacing form in front of him as he let out a sigh. Having been a friend of Frank’s for some time now, he wasn’t a stranger to moodiness or the other man’s incredibly fiery temper, yet Frank had been worse than usual lately. It seemed like the drop of a pin could set him off these days, and Curtis could practically see a cartoon storm cloud following him around with the way he’d been glowering lately. Curtis had hoped David would be able to shed some light on the cause of the behavior, but the technician was as clueless as him. 

They (they is a term very loosely used, given that David was overtly opposed to the idea,) decided to ask Frank about it the next time he visited Curtis. So, here they both were, watching Frank stomp across the floor and waiting for him to explain himself. Finally, Frank turned to them. 

“You gonna keep starin’ at me like I’m a goddamn explosive or are ya gonna ask me your fuckin questions so we can move on?” Frank’s growl made David flinch. 

“Hey, easy there, big guy. This isn’t an interrogation.” David pleaded, trying to wipe off the coffee he had inadvertently spilled on himself. 

“We’re here to help you, Frank. Same as always. Something’s been eating you away recently and we wanted to check in.” Curtis reasoned, looking between David and the marine. 

“M’ fine.” Frank grunted, draining the rest of his own coffee and stalking over to the machine for a fresh pour. 

David rolled his eyes, gesturing to Frank pointedly. “Told you he wouldn’t want to talk about it.” 

Apparently this was not the right thing to say, because Frank stilled with the pot of coffee in his hands. “You two are talkin’ ‘bout me now? Am I entertainin’ enough for ya? Jesus.” He slammed his cup down, grabbing his jacket from the seat next to Curtis and heading for the door. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you have somewhere else to mope?” Curtis asked with a raised brow, almost amused by how childish Frank was being. 

“Anywhere but here would be nice. That way I’m not interrupting your fuckin’ drama club.” Frank snapped, twisting around to face Curtis. “You wanna make me your pet project? Fine. Keep doing it when I’m not fuckin’ here.” 

“Frank, we weren’t—we were just worried about you, that’s all. You’ve been really…down lately and—“ David struggled to reason with the furious man. 

“Oh, have I? So sorry to be such a goddamn stick in the mud, Lieberman. We all know life has been real nice to me so I should be more grateful, ‘s that it?.” Glaring at the pair of men before him, Frank threw on his jacket and walked out, slamming the door behind him. 

Curtis sighed, sipping his coffee and turning to David. “I should’ve known better than to think he would talk this out. He says he’s fine, we treat him like he’s fine. He’s a grown ass man who can work up the balls to ask us for help if he needs it.” 

David barked a laugh. “We both know he won’t though.”

“Yah…you’re probably right about that.” 

Frank was still fuming as he trudged through the city streets at sunset. His mood had been worse than usual lately, but his friends’ inquiry just made him feel guilty and stupid for not knowing why. Things hadn’t been too bad recently. The past few missions he’d taken on had gone smoothly—to the point where it had been over a month since Curtis had to help stitch him up, and that had to be a record. Not to mention, he’d stopped an international arms dealer last week while on his own job, putting him on Madani’s good side for the first time in his miserable life. 

His fist clenched around Max’s leash, but the dog seemed entirely unbothered by his irritation. Happily trotting next to him, gazing up with adoration every once in a while. 

Frank sighed as they reached the entrance to his building, stopping his brisk pace for a moment to give the dog a scratch. “I’m sorry I’ve been out so much, bub. We’ll do this more, promise.” 

Max simply spun away from him, sniffing the air. Frank gave a weak chuckle, shaking his head at the dog’s ambivalence. The pair started up the stairs towards their floor, Max pulling harder than usual. When they reached the landing, Max froze as Frank headed for his front door. Stumbling backwards briefly, Frank tried to start moving again, but Max held firm—letting the leash grow stiff between them. 

“Max. C’mon, bud. Le’s go.” The pit bull simply gave Frank a piercing look, before abruptly jerking backwards, wriggling his head. 

“Max, what the hell, stop that!” Desperately, Frank tried to grab his dog, but Max was too quick. Within moments, he’d slipped free of his collar and taken off. 

Frank sprinted after him, heart sinking as he realized Max was beelining for an open apartment door. The last thing he needed was a goddamn dog-induced injury suit. 

Reaching the doorway, Frank saw Max sniffing around a young woman happily—the same woman who had almost run into him this morning. To Frank’s disbelief, she laughed. The sound was surprised, but bright and it pulled at his heart in a way he did not have time to unpack. 

“Hey, big guy!” You held your hand out for Max to sniff, which he did enthusiastically. “You lost?” 

Max gave you a few exuberant licks before sticking his nose back to the ground and snuffling around your kitchen, clearly looking for something. 

Eventually, Frank unfroze from his stupor and spoke. “I am so sorry, ma’am. He’s never gotten loose like that before. Max, c’mere.” 

Seemingly through with his rebellious phase, the dog sauntered up to Frank, tail wagging, before turning to allow Frank to reattach his collar. 

Standing in front of Frank, you gave another beautiful laugh, beaming up at Frank from where you were standing before him. “That’s quite alright. I’m never opposed to a new friend. Besides, my kitchen is quite literally filled with dog treats at the moment, so I can’t exactly blame him for his actions. Still smiling, you pulled a tray of dog biscuits from the counter next to you, giggling as Max sat down expectantly. 

“Can he have one? They’re chicken flavored, if that’s an issue.” You looked at Frank, questioningly. Still mortified by his dog’s outburst and quite honestly shocked that this gorgeous woman was still talking to him, he stammered. “Uh—yah, that’s. That’s fine.” 

Your smile widened as you grasped a few treats. “Here, bubba.” Max snatched the treats from your hand, greedily gulping them down before moving closer to you and holding up a paw. 

Laughing again, you set down the tray and crouched to shake his outstretched paw. “Well aren’t you a talented pup. What’s his name?” You turned to Frank, one hand scratching behind the dog’s ears. 

“This is Max…And I’m Frank.” His vocal chords seemingly operating on their own, Frank cursed himself for the honesty. Why on earth did he feel compelled to give this woman his life story? 

“Nice to meet you, Max!” You ruffled the fur on the pit’s head, chuckling as he kissed your arm. “And you as well, Frank. My name is-“ and your name tumbled off your lips. You held out a hand to him. Frank gave a small grimace of a smile, grasping your hand and repeating your name back to you. It was beautiful and more than suited you. 

“It’s very nice to meet you ma’am. I should, uh, we should go.” Frank said lamely, tugged on Max’s leash to exit your apartment. 

Grinning at him still, you waved goodbye. “Have a nice night, Frank. Stop by anytime” 

The next time he saw you, you were struggling to lug massive cardboard boxes into your apartment. It had been a few days since Max made your acquaintance and he’d been avoiding damn near everyone, which had only worsened his bad mood. 

As he took a few steps towards his front door, trying incredibly hard to not stare at your beautiful figure in the low cut sundress you were wearing, a loud crash caught his attention. 

“Shit!” You cursed, jumping back quickly to avoid smashing your foot underneath the box you’d dropped. 

“You, uh, need a hand?” Frank grumbled, shuffling closer to you. 

“Oh, hi Frank! Sorry I was so focused on this thing that I didn’t see you.” There was that beaming smile again. Frank shied away like it would burn him. 

“Ain’t a problem. So…you want help?” He asked again, rubbing at his nape as he blushed. Why on earth would you want his help when he acted like he’d never met another human before? 

“That would be amazing. This bed frame is way heavier than I was prepared for.” You kicked the box lightly, glaring at it. 

Frank shifted it up into his arms with ease. “Where would you like it?” 

“The room to your left please!” You chirped, pointing him in the room’s direction. “Thank you so much for your help.”

Frank set the heavy box down, turning back to you. “Looks like you needed it. You ain’t exactly dressed for lifting this.” Frank scoffed, before realizing in horror what he’d just said. 

“You don’t like my dress?” Your voice was soft and you looked at him with round eyes. He cursed himself for being born. If the world was fair, no one would ever make you look like that. His darkness was all consuming. 

“Oh, shit, I wasn’t thinking. I—“ 

You bit your lip, a sly grin spreading across your face. “I’m teasing you, Frank. I came right from work and didn’t have time to change. It’s a ridiculous outfit for building furniture. Please, sit! I have something for you.” You ushered him over to your couch. 

Frank tilted his head ever so slightly, surprised that you weren’t immediately put off by his harsh demeanor and towering stature. After a moment of thought, he practically collapsed to the cushions, the exhaustion of the past few weeks crashing over him. He was acutely aware that he hadn’t been sleeping well, but he hadn’t realized the ache that had settled in his bones until now.

You retreated to your kitchen, pulling a tin of cookies out of your pantry and offering them to Frank. “As a thank you for your assistance: my world-famous chocolate chip cookies.”

Gently lifting the tin from your hand, Frank felt the corner of his mouth quirk down at the thought of mooching off of you when you’d just met. “It wasn’t any trouble. I don’t want to take your food.” He grumbled, eyeing the tin for a moment before you groaned. 

“You’re killing me here, Frank. Indulge me, please!” Your eyes flickered between the tin and his grumpy face pointedly. He rolled his eyes, pulling a cookie from the box. 

The cookie was truly one of the best things Frank had ever eaten. Soft and buttery with a sprinkle of salt on top. He finished the treat in three bites, licking his fingers before your giggling reminded him that he was being observed. 

“So…are they sufficient payment?” A shit-eating grin appeared across your face and Frank felt his mood lift even further despite his brief embarrassment. 

Popping his thumb out of his mouth, he felt himself flush. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

You waved a hand, brushing aside his embarrassment. “Oh please, I’m just glad you liked it! Half the reason I bake for other people is for the compliments.” 

“You deserve them. That was…a damn good cookie.” Frank rubbed a hand over the back of his neck but you seemed completely unphased by his stiff social skills. “What’s in that box?” He nodded to the opened one in front of your couch, snatching another cookie from the tin. 

“Well, I moved in a few weeks ago and didn’t have the foresight to order my furniture in advance. So,” you spread your arms, gesturing to the myriad of tools and wooden pieces on your floor. “Tonight is night one of furnishing my apartment.”

“That seems…like a real chore.” 

“Oh it is. But I’ve been sleeping on a mattress on my floor for three weeks, so I sort of need a bed frame. Like ASAP.” You narrowed your eyes at the box in the other room like it had bested you in a fight. 

“Did ya, um, did ya want some help with…” Frank trailed off, gesturing to your inanimate foe. 

“Oh gosh, I couldn’t ask you to do that. I wouldn’t wish IKEA furniture on my worst enemy.” You laughed, shaking your head. 

“Ain’t a problem, if you’re ok with me snackin’ on those miracle cookies while I work.”

“Ok, one:” You began, holding out a finger. Frank bit a lip to keep from laughing. Bossy little thing, aren’t ya? “You can eat all of those cookies if you help me build that motherfucking thing.” A boisterous laugh burst out of Frank at your pretty mouth cursing so openly. “And two: you will be snacking on them while we work because I would actually be the devil if I made a sweetheart like you build the hellscape that is the ‘Songesand’ all on your own.”

“Trust me, I’m no sweetheart.” 

You grinned at him. “We’ll see about that, sweetheart.” 

Hours and an empty tin of cookies later, you were ready to call it quits. 

“If this bolt doesn’t tighten all the way, I swear to God I am going to lose it.” You pouted dramatically, dropping the pieces you were attaching to the floor with a clatter. 

Frank huffed a tiny laugh. “Lemme see.” Inspecting the piece, he unscrewed the bolt a tad and tightened it with ease. You groaned. 

“I swear it was broken a second ago. Are you a witch or something?” You flopped to the ground with a sigh, looking up at him through thick lashes. 

“Nah. Just good at building things, I s’pose.” 

“Well, I really appreciate your help. Can I cook you dinner? As a thank you?”

“I don’t wanna overstay my welcome…” Busying himself with the furniture in front of him, he avoided your studious gaze. 

“It’s not a big deal. And it would actually encourage me to eat today.” 

Frank whirled to face you. “You haven’t eaten today?” 

You shrugged, “Yah, I tend to get distracted.” 

“That ain’t good for ya.” Frank sighed, trying to decide what the priority should be. “A’right. If it’ll make ya eat, ya can cook for me.” 

You smiled, your eyes catching his with a soft gaze. “That’s so sweet of you.” And, with that, you bustled away to start dinner. 

Throwing himself back into the task at hand, Frank had your bed frame assembled and was pulling your mattress onto it in no time. Brushing his hands together, he returned to the living room, tidying up the scraps of cardboard and styrofoam littering the ground. 

“Frank, please sit down! You’ve just saved me hours of work, I can clean up.” You raised your voice so he could hear you from the kitchen. 

“It’s no trouble.”

“Dinner’s ready anyway. Sit, please!” You encouraged, handing him a bowl of some delicious smelling pasta. 

Eagerly digging in, Frank almost moaned at the first bite. “How are you so good at this?” He asked, stuffing another forkful into his mouth. 

You giggled, “Culinary school, and years of practice.” 

“Culinary school, huh?” 

“Yah…” You laughed a little sadly, moving the pasta around in your bowl. “I’ve always liked cooking and I had this crazy dream of opening a bakery a while ago.” 

Frank swallowed, forcing himself to continue the conversation even though he could feel himself blushing at his inability to talk like a normal fucking person. “You’re really good at it. What happened?” 

Stiffening slightly next to him, you waved off the question. “Oh you know, killer capitalism and all that. But, I work in a cafe which means I get to bake to my heart's content without all the nitty gritty business stuff. Like taxes.” You made a face at the thought and Frank snorted. 

Finishing his dinner, he noticed you studying him again. It had been a while since someone had shown such genuine interest and care towards him. His heart fluttered in a way he hadn’t felt in years, and it struck a nerve. Minuscule grin falling from his face, he stood abruptly. 

“I gotta go.” 

“Oh, ok.” He didn’t dare look at your face and risk seeing it fall. 

Pacing to your doorway, he turned towards you marginally. “Thanks for the food.” 

“Thank you for giving me a platform to sleep on tonight. You’ve saved my hips a world of pain.” Your smile was small but genuine. You seemed almost…hesitant. As he was about to tread down the hallway to his own place, you wrapped him in a sudden embrace. “Have a goodnight, Frank.” 

His heart tugged, insisting that he return the embrace, but he couldn’t risk it. Instead, he squeezed your shoulder and quickly headed home. 

After another night of restless sleep, he woke up in an even fouler mood than before. Yanking the door open on his way to work, he almost stomped over a package sitting on his doorstep. Given that it was just past 5 in the morning, he was a little suspicious of the bag at his feet. Gingerly picking it up, he turned it around and, despite himself, broke into a small smile. 

The brown paper bag had a handwritten note, “Don’t be a stranger, Sweetheart” with your signature and phone number underneath. Stapled to the present itself was a brochure for one “Rainy Day Bakery”, complete with pictures of your smiling face surrounded by other employees. Feeling his shitty mood melt away, just a little, he opened the bag and found a short stack of fresh chocolate chip cookies. He sank back against his door, closing his eyes. 

Screw it.

Twirling around the kitchen, softly singing the lyrics to the song playing overhead, you placed your tray of bread into the oven. 

“God. You’re worse than usual today.” Your coworker, Stacy, groused, hefting a giant sack of flour up onto your prep table. You laughed at her, nudging her shoulder. 

“It’s a great day, Stace! It’s beautiful outside and we’ve had steady business all morning. Plus, Janet is letting me try out some new flavors this week and I am stoked!” You squealed. 

“How did I ever become friends with morning people,” She fake gagged and you smacked her. 

“You love our exuberance, don’t lie.” 

“Yah, yah. Whatever.” She rolled her eyes. 

“Did someone call for a morning person?” Your other primary coworker, Leo, entered the room with a dramatic spin. 

“The only thing worse than one of you, is both of you. I’ll take the counter.” Stacy mumbled, stalking back out to the front of the store. You and Leo giggled after her, knowing she was hiding a smile. 

“So, what’s on the docket for the rest of the day, princess?” Leo positioned themself at the stainless steel bench next to you, looking ready to take on whatever weird ideas you threw their way. 

“I’m thinkin’ more classic cheesecakes, those did well last week. Then maybe lemon meringue bars or key lime minis? Something citrusy. Thoughts?” You tilted your head, awaiting their response. 

“Let’s do the lemon pie shortbread bars. Those are always popular. You want to prep the dough, I’ll start juicing?” 

“You read my mind.” Whipping out the ingredients, the two of you danced around each other in a practiced waltz. You’d been friends since culinary school and had pretty much been a package deal for every employer afterwards. You acted as a well oiled machine, and the cafe was booming because of it. 

As you gently pressed large wads of shortbread into pans, Stacy poked her head back through the staff door, breaking your focus. “Someone’s here for you, princess.” 

Scrunching your brow, you shouted over your shoulder. “I told her I didn’t have time to grab lunch this week.” 

“It’s not your mom. It’s some guy. Says he’s your neighbor?” 

Your hands stilled. “Yah, ok, I’m coming, Stace.” Scooting past Leo—and their eager, teasing grin—you gave them a pointed look. “Stop it.”

“He came to visit you. At work.” Leo singsonged. 

“It might not even be him.”

Leo rolled their eyes back to the pot in front of them. “It’s him.” 

Traipsing after Stacy into the customer portion of the cafe, your face broke out in a massive smile as you saw Frank at the register. His arms were crossed and he looked nervous, eyes shifting around, trying his best to avoid Stacy’s cold gaze. 

“Hey, Frank! Welcome to Rainy Day! What can I get ya?” You placed your hands on your hips and looked at him with excited expectation. 

“Coffee?” You giggled at his simple response which made his blush deepen. “I uh, shit, that sounded stupid. I don’t know…”

“It didn’t sound stupid, sweetheart. I was just thinking about how nice it is to not have to make a super complicated drink. Stace can you get me a large cup of the dark roast. I’m assuming hot and no cream or sugar?” You looked at Frank, waiting to see if your prediction was correct. 

“Fuck, am I that obvious?” He groaned, his face beet red as he avoided your eyes. 

“There’s nothing wrong with enjoying the simple things, Frank.” 

Stacy passed over the drink. “2.50.” She stated with no emotion, feigning disinterest in the conversation. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw her giving Frank a subtle once-over. 

Frank passed over a ten. “Keep the change.” 

“Aw, that’s so sweet! Thank you,” your lopsided grin was a permanent fixture whenever he was present. It was going to be the death of him. He’d do anything to make you keep that smile. 

“I—um, wanted to visit your cafe, since you asked me to, I mean—“

Your smile softened as his nervousness peaked. “I appreciate the visit, Frank. Come by anytime. Oh! Before you go, actually,” You fluttered off, daintily grabbing a pastry from the case to your left. You handed him a beautifully decorated confection, but your signature smile held a tinge of anxiety. You clearly cared about his opinion, he wasn’t really sure why. 

“I, uh, didn’t order this.” Frank announced gruffly, holding the pastry in his hands as if it was trying to bite him. 

Rolling your eyes, you laughed cheerfully, “I know, silly. You think I’m going to let you leave without breakfast?” Hands back on your hips, Frank felt a familiar warmth bloom as an almost imperceptible smirk flickered across his mouth. Bossy. 

“Are you really chastising me for skipping a meal after what you said yesterday?” He quirked an eyebrow. 

“Do as I say, not as I do.” You shrugged, looking between him and the pastry. “Well? Don’t leave me hanging!” 

“Are you always this demanding?” Frank scoffed with a slight twinkle in his eyes. 

“Yes.” Stacy and Leo called in unison, making you gasp in false betrayal. 

“Fine, I’ll eat it myself.” You held out your hand to retract the pastry, but Frank drew it closer to himself. 

“Never said I wouldn’t try it, Sunshine.” Your exaggerated pout nearly disappeared at the nickname. “Pretty sure you’ll pop your lid if I don’t.” 

He took a bite of the pastry, savoring the incredible combination of flavors. “‘S real good, what is it?” 

“Baklava inspired croissant. It’s something new I am trying and you strike me as someone who wouldn’t be satisfied by my whimsical ideas alone. You’re…honest, it’s nice.” 

Taken aback, Frank hesitated before swallowing his mouthful. “I…uh—thanks.” His voice was soft. He wasn’t quite used to receiving compliments about anything other than his ability to end a life. 

“Sorry if I was too pushy, a lot of the people who come in here are more concerned with their hipster image than truth. It’s nice to have someone who gives their actual opinion on my work, is all.” You bit your lip, eyes trained on his. 

“I was just teasin’, Sunshine. You can boss me around whenever you want.” 

You grinned. “I think I’ll take you up on that, Frankie.” You winked, making him chuckle. 

“Oh, you’re a handful, aren’t ya?”

“No turning back, Frank. You’re my friend now. Ask my coworkers, I’m not easy to get rid of.” You batted your eyelashes at him and he shook his head, looking to Stacy and Leo behind you. 

“Trust me, I’ve tried.” Stacy gave a tremendous sigh and Leo shoved her. 

“Well, thanks. For the…coffee and stuff.” Frank ended with, lamely. 

“I’m glad you liked the pastry! If you ever want to be my guinea pig, let me know. I’m pretty sure my friends are tired of me asking.” You chuckled, looking sheepishly at Leo and Stacy who gave dramatic nods. 

“I’d uh…I’d like that.” 

You beamed. “You’re a lifesaver, truly. Just text me if you’re ever up for trying things. You have my number now.”

“I do. I…uh, gotta run but…thanks again” Frank gave a curt nod to the three of you. 

“Have a good day, sweetheart.” You waved him goodbye. 

You were definitely going to be the death of him. 

Your phone buzzed, startling you out of your post-work tv-induced trance. 

Unknown: Hey. This is Frank. In case you need my number or whatever. 

You: Hey Frank! Haven’t talked to you in forever 😉

Frank: Sorry to bother you

You: Don’t be silly. You could never bother me. 

You: Are you hungry?

Frank: I guess? Why?

You: There’s a cute little Persian place that just opened a few blocks from here. I’ve been dying to try it but was too embarrassed to go alone. They allow dogs on the patio, if you and Max are interested?

Frank: Sounds good. Be over in a sec. 

Your heart spun around in your chest. Dashing to your bathroom, you fiddled with your outfit and hair, reapplying makeup and adjusting your floral patterned dress. Catching your own eyes in the mirror, you scolded yourself. Frank wasn’t fully a stranger anymore, but you didn’t know much about him. He didn’t wear a wedding band, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t involved with someone. You were getting ahead of yourself. The knowledge that your efforts might be futile weren’t enough to make you wipe off your fresh coat of lipstick, though. 

A knock at your door broke you out of your thoughts. Rushing to open it, you were spellbound. Frank had cleaned up, probably not for you personally, but your naive little heart couldn’t help but hope. His wavy hair was pushed away from his face and his beard had been trimmed. Wearing his signature dark jacket, he looked…marvelous. 

Prying your jaw from the floor, you smiled at him. “You look really nice, Frank.” 

“So do you, sunshine. Max was napping and refused to get up. Is it alright if it’s just us?”

“More than.” You grinned up at him sweetly. 

“Lead the way, Sunshine.” His deep voice rumbled. You grabbed one of his large hands in both of yours (which definitely did not make him blush) dragging him to the stairs. 

Frank knew he was treading a dangerous line. This was the 4th time in a week he’d seen you, but he couldn’t get enough. Your smile was intoxicating and your bubbly yet demanding personality was goddamn enchanting. For fuck’s sake, his hand that you had held still burned with warmth and he never wanted it to fade. He knew his darkness could ruin you, but he was defenseless to your lilting voice and endless optimism. 

Which is how he found himself across from you in a quaint little spot a few blocks from your building. Strings of colorful lights spanned the perimeter. Apparently you knew one of the chefs because the kitchen had prepared a tasting menu of sorts for the two of you, and Frank was not above reaping the benefits of what you’d sown. 

Dish after amazing dish was placed in front of the two of you and Frank was putting them away, you were eating less but seemed to be enjoying everything just the same. As you both moaned around a bite of a sort of lamb stew, your eyes twinkled. 

“So, Frank, how was your day?” The question was eager and genuine. He was still taken aback by your desire to know him, to care about him. 

“Fine. Yours?” 

“My day was lovely! I made a couple of my favorite recipes and had a handsome visitor at the cafe. Now I’m having a fantastic meal. I’m a lucky gal.” Eyes still sparkling, they scrunched as you smiled. 

“A handsome visitor, huh?”

“Oh you’d like him. He’s all tough and brooding, but I just know there’s a good man underneath all of that.” 

“Ya just know, huh? What’s hiding underneath all that happiness of yours then, sunshine?” 

“An overwhelming sense of curiosity.” You smirked at him. Your flirty tone traveled straight down in his being. Giving a breathy laugh, he deflected. 

“How are you so…peppy all the time?” At his question, your seductive gaze faded to a much more solemn one. 

“I don’t know, I guess it just became a habit… My, uh, my dad died. When I was young. My mom didn’t handle it well. So, it started as a defense mechanism? I suppose? But now…now it’s just who I am.” You averted your eyes, picking at the dish in front of you. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be a downer.” You forced a small laugh. 

“Hey,” Frank’s firm yet gentle tone forced you to look at him once again. “You’re not a downer. Anything ya wanna tell me, I’ll listen, yah?” 

You nodded, smile coming back to the edges of your lips. “Thanks, Frankie.” 

“Can I ask you another question?” When you nodded, he continued. “Do you put, like, crack in those cookies of yours? I swear you gave me an addiction, sunshine.” 

A laugh escaped you and his heart soared. There’s my girl. 

Taglist: @cheshirecat484

[lynnslittlelife]

I've never requested something so sorry if none of this makes sense. Can you do alastor from hazbin hotel x male little please. You can decide the plot (or whatever it's called I'm not that creative sorry)

I'm happy you requested from me!!! No need to apologize ^~^ it's a safe place here! I love Hazbin, especially Alastor so it was fun to write for him! I don't write male readers much on any of my pages, so it was a fun little (pun intended) challenge! Hope you enjoy ^~^

Word Count: 1,101

You waited very impatiently for you dada to come home. When he met you, you made a deal. He saw your soul, and knew it was different than a lot of others down here. He was intrigued, and ended up spending more time with you until he figured out what made you different. It didn’t take him long, he was a very clever demon. You were a little, but he had grown a soft spot for you…at least…as soft as he could manage. 

Your deal was that he would be the only one to see you. Aside from the other demons who served under him in his home. In turn, they served under you as well. But when at all possible, you had to stay in your room until he was home. He knew you could be sensitive, after all…hell was no place for a child. Despite being physically older, you weren’t always as old as you looked. Alastor knew this, and did everything in his power to keep you safe. 

You colored, and rolled around in bed with your favorite stuffies, but you wanted dada to come home! Being little alone wasn’t TERRIBLE but it was far from ideal. Dada always left you a lot of things to keep you busy while he was gone, but it wasn’t ever enough. He had been gone for weeks! WEEKS! You couldn’t wait to hear his stories and what he’s been up to in the extensive amount of time he was gone. He did have good stories all the time, and when you were big some of them seemed outlandish, but little? Anything was possible. 

Luckily you heard the front door open, and bolted out of your room to try and go meet him. He had been gone for so long! How were you supposed to entertain yourself for THAT long?!?! The other smaller demons were too scared to really play with you, in fear of what he’d do! So he was the only one you could really even play with! He didn’t “play” too much, but he did watch you play and make comments. Sometimes even compliments, about your drawings or toy piles. Anything really. 

When he was barely even in the door, you jumped at him. He caught you, of course, and let out his laughter. Not an evil laughter, but more genuine of one. He didn’t laugh like that a lot, but relatively frequently around you. He held you close to him, and carried you all the way to your room. He patted your head, having no problem with carrying you with only one arm. 

“Hello there, little one. Have you missed me?” It was rhetorical, because he knew no matter how long he’d be gone you’d always miss him. He admitted to you once or twice, how he felt as if you gave him another purpose in the after life. Made him feel special, and wanted, simply by being yourself around him. Allowing him to take care of someone else, something he never cared to do when he was alive. 

“Yes! Missed you so much dada!” You giggled and tried to hug him as tight as you could, but it was far less than what was needed to actually break or even hurt the demon. “You was gone for forever!” You giggled even more when he kicked the door shut with his foot and set you down next to the drawing you were making before he came back. 

“My dearest little boy…I was only gone for a few hours.” He chuckled and knelt down beside you to see your drawing. “Ah! Would this happen to be a gift for me?” He picked it up and examined it, before pinning it to the wall with many of your other drawings. It was more of a display wall than anything, almost exclusively used for your drawings. Though you had so many, you might have to get another wall just for that. 

“Hours? No! Weeks and weeks!” You said and pouted, crossing your arms. “Where did go?” You stopped pouting and instead stood up and ran up to him to pull him into another hug. “Stories?” Always wanting to hear about his latest adventures. Even if he would never tell you about some of the gorey details, when demons decided to test his limits. Some demons just had no common sense, and tried to push the buttons of the infamous radio demon. 

So he told you tales of his adventures, and you listened to each and every word. Whether they were true or not, was up for debate. Like the daughter of hell? Starting a hotel to redeem sinners? You didn’t believe it up to a point. But eventually he gave enough details about it, that it had to be true! If that was possible, he said he’d like you to try. But not until he had solid proof. 

“But…dada…you come too, right?” You seemed scared, not wanting to imagine “living” without him. It didn’t sound like he was coming, and that didn’t help your fears at all. “No leave without dada!” You scooted closer to the bed he sat on from where you sat on the floor. He looked to be his usual carefree self, but there was something more behind those eyes of his. 

“You see, little boy…I’m not made for heaven. You, however…are. You’re kind, pure, and how you ended up here I’ll never know.” He picked you up with ease and sat you on his lap. “I plan to stay here, and you’ll go somewhere much better. A kinder place. You’ll be happy, and safe there.” He secured his arms around you so you wouldn’t fall, but that was the least of your concerns right now. 

“No! I happy with dada!” You were trying not to cry, and when he saw that expression he melted just a bit. “Stay here with you!” He was already close to you, but you tried to make it even closer still. “No leave you! No…no no.” You shook your head before resting it in the crook of his neck. 

He smiled, and thought for a moment before saying, “No. It’s alright, I won’t leave you. Not now, and not ever. Down here I can make sure you’re safe.” He rubbed your back to soothe you. “If anyone touches you…” His voice turned to a deep static, and you couldn’t see it with your face buried, but symbols and waves of his power crashed around you. “You're my little boy, and I won’t let anyone or anything hurt you. You’re safe with me.” 

[starglow-xx]

— Oh Baby!

part 2! - a solution? sure, let’s call it that

heartslabyul & savanaclaw x f! reader

synopsis: when the boys of heartslabyul and savanaclaw get turned to kids, who else is supposed to take of them except their beloved prefect? go figure. damn you crowley. oh, and you too grim.

fandom: twisted wonderland

type of work: part of mini series! : “Oh Baby!” ; written segment, fluff / platonic themes, comedy? ; check out pt. 1 here!

warnings: a stressed prefect pt. 2, unedited

a/n: YALL it’s been a year since i posted the first part to this and obviously since then i’ve completed the books for octavinelle, scarabia, and pomefiore, so maybe they’ll have future appearances later hehe but no promises

“you’re telling me you don’t know how to fix this?!” you whisper yelled.

“that’s what i said was it not?”

you wanted to scream in frustration at the headmaster but refrained yourself from doing so as your newly turned baby friends were oh so peacefully playing in the common room as you and crowley talked in the kitchen, and didn’t want to draw attention.

“loosey duecey! loosey duecey! loosey duecey! loosey duecey!”

“shut up!”

maybe peacefully was too good of a word in this situation.

“WELL THEN! it seems that i am no longer needed so i will take my leave—”

“get the hell back here for seven’s sake! and didn’t i tell you to keep your voice down?!”

“but—”

“shut up! if you won’t help me solve my problem then don’t speak at all!” you continued to whisper yell.

“...”

“seriously?!”

with strength that you usually save for rounding up ace, deuce, and grim (on normal circumstances), you grab the stupid headmaster by the back of his cloak thing as he turns away from you to make his escape.

“oh no you don’t!”

the bird for brains had the audacity to sigh at you like he was the one inconvenienced with 8 children. 8 actual children.

“ms. prefect, you must understand, that despite how gracious i am, i simply do not have time for—”

“i’ll go on strike if you don’t help me!”

“...come again?”

you sweatdrop as you let go of his cloak. you didn’t really think the whole thing through, it kind of just came out of you mouth, but it seemed to get his attention so you’re going to have to role with it dammit.

“t-that’s right!”

you cursed in your head slightly as you stammer. there’s no turning back!

“i’ll for once since i’ve gotten here be an normal student! so that means no cleaning after your messes, doing chores that shouldn’t be my responsibility, fighting stupid overblots blah blah blah, you get the picture?”, you threaten.

crowley is silent as he contemplates your words.

“and no, holding housing or allowance over my head is not going to work, because i will literally get myself adopted by another dorm or so help me.”

at that, crowley sighs once again, but this time in defeat at the teenage girl in front of him.

“all right, i’ll go work with the staff to try and figure something out.”

phew.

“however!”

god dammit you can never win can you.

crowley with a stern voice as he wags one of his fingers shatters your hopes and dreams with a simple, “the children must stay here!”

you couldn’t believe your ears, and started to yell, forgetting about whisper yelling.

“what?! why?! i’m asking for help with them because i can’t handle it!”

he simply raises an eyebrow at you.

“do you think it’ll be beneficial and efficient to have the children running around potions and stacks of books while we try and find their cure?”

you sigh, disappointed but not surprised at his rebuttal.

“...no sir”

“great! i guess we’re on the same page after all! i wish you the best of luck prefect, for i am gracious.”

you deadpan.

“right of course. whatever would i do without your help headmaster”

“oh you’d probably perish!”

“that was sarcasm”

ignoring your retort, the man dramatically swished his coat cape thing nearly whacking you in the face (you’re 98% sure it was on purpose) as you feel a migraine start coming on, and the you 15 minutes ago wouldn’t believe it wasn’t because of the children.

after a deep sigh, you follow after crowley reentering what grim dubbed as the “danger zone” only to catch the evasive headmaster walk out the door and shut it behind them.

from where you’re standing, you hear grim, who’s awake now, but still lying on the floor, mumble something along the lines of “useless” and you couldn’t agree more.

you eye the handful of children running around and yelling at each other.

oh great seven, this is going to be one hell of a migraine.

i love their shenanigans <33

as always, reblogs and shares are appreciated! i hope you all stay safe! and just in case nobody told you they loved you today, i love you! you are enough! <3

writing belongs to me! please do not plagiarize, repost, or translate on here or any other sites!

[thatwriterchaotic]

hello, i hope you’re doing well ❤️

i saw you were looking for requests and i was wondering if you’d write something for daryl. maybe prison era where reader is really shy and awkward so they keep to themself but like daryl from a distance. also reader has a sketchbook and tends to draw him in it but one day loses it and someone finds it and shows daryl it people start teasing him about a secret admirer so reader ends up finding out he has it and tries to steal it back later but gets caught by him and it leads to a cute moment. of course if you don’t want to or don’t get to it don’t worry, i hope you have a lovely weekend ☺️

Hi there lovely! I'm doing good thank you for asking. ❤️ I absolutely love all the ideas for requests lately they have been so fluffy and sweet. I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Look My Way (Daryl Dixon x Shy!Reader)

Summary: You mostly kept to yourself, being very socially awkward and shy. It was difficult to connect with people. Daryl always tried his best to be kind to you and help you open up. That was until someone got their hands on your sketchbook.

Word Count: 1,833

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x shy!reader

Daryl's POV

You where always so quiet. He never really seen you talk with others besides the people in your found family. More and more people joined the prison since the Governor had went haywire. Daryl always kept an eye on you. Checking up on you, making sure you had eaten. Simple things like that. But he had also grown quiet fond of you over the years of knowing you.

He still remembers the day he found you lost in the woods. You where by yourself, barely surviving out there. Little food and no water. He gave you what he had and asked you to come back with him. You barely spoke but you knew you could trust him.

Daryl had been watching you up in the guard tower. He was down by the gates clearing walkers away. It looked liked you had been writing or sketching something. Leaning against the railing, so invested in whatever you had in that notebook.

He thought you looked beautiful. The way the sunlight hit you just right. Making the shape of your body glow. Your hair tied back in a messy braid going down your shoulder. Hell it didn't matter what you wore. He always looked for you in a room. Daryl quickly looked away, he couldn't be distracted by you right now he had work to do.

Your POV

It was your turn to be on watch. You sighed as you sat in the watch tower. Bored out of your mind. You brought your bag up with you. It was usually filled with your sketchbook and some arts supplies.

Reaching for your sketchbook and a pencil, you walked outside onto the little patio area to look around. Finding something you could draw. You opened your sketchbook and scanned through the pages. Most of your drawings and little sketches where of Daryl

It made you feel giddy. Daryl was one of your favorite things to draw. But if anyone saw this or if he saw this! You would die of embarrassment. You blushed and quickly turned to an empty page. Scanning the area, you saw the archer himself. You smiled a little and started drawing. His back was facing you, but you could see his arms glistening in the sunlight. His muscles tightening as he killed the walkers at the gate.

You shouldn't be looking at him like this but your eyes couldn't be pulled away. You kept sketching, adding more details to your work. Shading in his hair and his angel vest that he always wore. You where lost in your own little world until you herd your name.

You jumped back and turned around being greeted by Maggie. You sighed and relaxed thankful it was someone you where familiar with. “O-Oh Maggie! You startled me” You said shyly quickly closing your sketchbook holding it close.

Maggie smirked, she had caught you staring at Daryl again. “You lost in your own little world again huh?” Maggie said teasing you a bit. You blushed out of embarrassment. “Anyway you can head back now, my turn to take watch. Carol is making something to eat” She said to you, patting your shoulder as she moved passed. You nodded and grabbed your things making your way down the watch tower.

You greeted Carol with a small smile as you walked up to the cafeteria area of the prison. “Hey there! How's your day been?” Carol asked with a kind smile. Carol always made you feel comfortable. Almost like a motherly figure to you. “It's going alright, just finished my watch for the day” You spoke softly. You noticed she had made some kind of stew with the rabbit Daryl brought back from one of his hunts. It looked and smelled delicious.

“Do you need any help here?” You asked quietly fiddling with your fingers. Even though you didn't speak out much you wanted to help. “Yes actually, could you help set up some bowls for everyone on the picnic tables?” Carol asked you as she handed you the bowls and silverware. You nodded and set your sketchbook down. Grabbing the bowls, you placed them on the tables for everyone.

Carol went around and filled up everyone's bowls. Soon people started to flood in, taking seats to eat. You forgot you left your sketchbook unattended. You glanced around and saw a teenager had grabbed it and looked through it. You panicked on the inside, trying to keep your composure.

You wanted to get up and snatch it away quickly but you where to embarrassed. The teenager was someone new from the Governor's town. He called over his friends and they all kept looking together. It only made you want to hide in shame more. But the worse of it all was when Daryl walked in.

Daryl's Pov

They started to call him over, one practically dragging him by his hand. “Look! Someone's got a secret admirer” One of the younger kids said. The rest of them Ooooed at him. Daryl snatched the sketchbook out of their hands. “Hey! It's rude to look through other people's things. Ain't ya mama raised you better” He scolded them. He held the sketchbook in his hands. Look through, he felt himself blush. It was several drawings and sketches of him. And they where very well done.

One was of him standing against a wall. The other of him sitting down on the floor. They where all so detailed. Down to the mole right above his lip. His cheeks turned a darker shade of red and quickly shut the book. “I'll be returning this to it's owner, whenever I found out who it is” Daryl said to the kids and walked out of the room. Carrying it in his arms.

He didn't know who it was but he secretly hoped it was you. Seeing you earlier today with a note book similar to this one. He wasn't just going to walk up to you then and there. He knew how shy you where about that kind of thing. Plus he didn't want to embarrass you Infront of all those people. He would wait until later when it was just you and him. For now, he went back to his cell and placed it somewhere safe.

Your POV

You felt your self panic even more when Daryl took the sketchbook and left. You needed to get that back before he found out it was you. You smiled shyly and excused yourself. Quickly leaving the cafeteria. You went to where your side of the cells where. Mostly where you slept and the people you where close with. You hoped Daryl wouldn't be at his cell right now. You quickly made your way up the steps and to his cell. You sighed not seeing him around. You snuck into his cell and looked around for it. Not finding it anywhere. Until you opened the drawer to his little side table. There it was! You quickly grabbed it. Letting out a sigh of relief.

“What ya doing in here girl?” You herd that southern accent come from behind you. You stood up quickly, your cheeks flushing red. Daryl smirked and moved into his cell, closer towards you. “J-Just looking for something” You quickly said feeling your heart race. You had been caught. Daryl placed his hand on the side of your hip and slowly turned you around. Making you face him.

“Oh you mean that little note book filled with drawings of me?” Daryl said not moving his hand away from your hip. He gently reached up brushing a strand of hair away from your face. You wouldn't look up at him. So embarrassed about him finding out your fascination with him. “Don't shy away from me Sunshine, you can talk to me” Daryl said, his voice so rich and smooth. It made your stomach swirl with butterflies.

Your body felt like it was on fire. Having him so close to you an calling you Sunshine. Daryl gently grabbed your chin with his finger making you look up at him. You bashed your eyelashes, your arms still wrapped tightly around your sketchbook. “I-I just, I like to draw pretty things I like” You confessed to him bashfully. “Oh so I'm a pretty thing huh?” He asked you with the sweetest smile on his face. You couldn't think, only focusing on his face. Admiring him, the crows feet by the corner of his eyes. His stubble on his chin. The arch of his nose, the soft freckles scattered across his skin. Oh he was gorgeous, like a beautiful statue made from marble.

“You're gorgeous to me Daryl” You said finally, dropping your sketch book on the floor. You reached up and gently cupped his cheek. Daryl blushed and gently leaned into your touch. Keeping his eyes on you. “Everything about you is beautiful to me, that's why I draw you so much” You continued, finally confessing how you felt towards the archer.

Daryl smiled and slowly moved closer to you. Placing his other hand on your hip. “Well, everythin’ about you is beautiful to me Sunshine” Daryl said softly, making you smile. He pressed his forehead against yours. You both just stood there, holding each other in your arms. Until Daryl closed the gap between you. Kissing your ever so softly yet passionately. You wrapped your arms around his neck and happily kissed him back. Loving the feeling of his lips on yours. Maybe you should have let him see your sketch book sooner.

[lilacwisps]

How about Hogwarts Legacy boys reaction to f!MC trying to tease/turn them on in public? Assuming they are in a relationship.

Sure, nonnie 💜

These include Sebastian, Ominis and Garreth, if you'd like other characters please let me know.

Sebastian:

The late morning Charms is as boring as can be expected - that is, until a note from MC lands on Sebastian's desk. Sebastian glances at MC, who appears to be quite taken with the lesson to pay him any attention and flips over the note.

"So unfortunate you had detention last night - I missed you. Luckily, during my last excursion to the Restricted Section, I found a very peculiar muggle book that kept me company. This little excerpt made me think of you."

Sebastian frowns - he had no idea that there were muggle books in the Restricted Section, but, as usual, his curiosity gets the better of him, and he unwraps the note. It's a page torn out from a book, and on it - a single image, man and woman locked in an embrace and…

Instantly, color rushes to his face, and he crumples the paper before he can even think. The picture is pure filth - but he'd be lying if he said it didn't send his heart racing. The coy smile on MC's lips when their gazes finally meet doesn't help the situation at all - heat instantly pools low in Sebatian's stomach, making it very hard to concentrate on the lesson.

His mind keeps conjuring the picture from the book. More than anything, he wants to get MC alone, so he can show her just how much he enjoyed it - hell, perhaps, they can even recreate it, if she's up for it…

To his chagrin, it's not as easy as he'd hoped. Professor Ronen stops Sebastian and Ominis right after class to talk about their last assignment, so the next time Sebastian sees MC, it's at lunch in the Great Hall. They sit next to each other, but that hardly helps Sebastian, as every brush of her hand against his or when their knees touch under the table makes him think of the picture - and of just how desperately he needs some alone time with her.

"MC, can we speak privately?" he asks, leaning over to her as the lunch draws to a close.

"What do you want to talk about?" MC asks, looking at him through her eyelashes.

"I think you know," Sebastian murmurs, but MC only smiles sweetly.

"Do I? I'm not so sure. Sorry, whatever this is, it will have to wait till later - I'm going to be late for Arithmancy."

Neither her soft tone nor innocent gaze fool Sebastian - if anything, it only fans his ardor. He can hardly remember anything that happens during his afternoon classes, his mind consumed with MC and that damned picture she'd sent him, wondering what that position would feel like - and, inevitably, his body responds to those thoughts. For a moment, he considers cutting class and heading back to his dorm to handle his rather pressing problem, but he decides against it. MC has started this, and he was going to see it through.

He almost forgets that the two of them have detention together after classes for breaking into the Restricted Section the week before. To his surprise, it's not Madam Scribner who oversees the detention, but rather the groundskeeper Moon.

"Just…just do your homework and be quiet," the groundskeeper tells them, "I don't have time for this right now with these damned demiguises."

Sitting next to MC feels a little like torture - especially when she bites the tip of her quill pensively as she stares at the parchment, and all Sebastian can think of is her lips around his… But it gets worse. Groundskeeper Moon disappears behind the shelves when MC turns to Sebastian.

"I'm having issues figuring this one out," she says, sliding a book closer to him, "Do you mind helping me?"

At first blush, it appears to be their Transfiguration textbook, but the moment Sebastian looks closer, the words start to blur on the page. Next thing he knows, he's looking at half a dozen of quite…explicit pictures, just like the one she'd sent him earlier in the Charms class. Warmth rises in his cheeks, and all he can do is just look at MC.

Before he can say anything, Moon reappears from behind the shelf.

"These damned demiguises… Listen, you two - I have some matters to attend to, but I'll be back quick - just keep doing your homework and be quiet."

"I'm all out of parchment," MC says, "And I'm still not finished with my Transfigurations essay."

"Just grab some on the desk over there," Moon says, pointing over to the table in the corner.

With that, he heads to the exit. Sebastian glances around - they are in a secluded area of the library, and there aren't a lot of people, so they could probably get away with this. And besides, he'd be lying if he said he doesn't find the risk of getting caught at least a little bit thrilling. MC's still picking up new parchment when Sebastian gets up and heads toward her.

"So then," he wraps his arms around her waist from behind and leans close, letting his breath ghost her neck, "What was it you needed my help with? You'd like some assistance recreating those illustrations, is that it?"

MC turns around and steps back, leaning against the table.

"I don't know what you are talking about," she murmurs, looking at him through half-lidded eyes.

"You can drop the act," Sebastian says, leaning closer, his lips almost touching hers, "Playing coy will get you nowhere."

"Are you sure?" MC chuckles, hopping up and settling on the desk, "Because it looks like I'm exactly where I want to be."

Sebastian remembers the half dozen illustrations on the page - in one of them, the woman was seated on the table, and the man…

"Well played," he laughs, drawing her in for a kiss, "So then, shall we start from that?"

"I'd like that - and, then, perhaps, we could do whichever one piqued your interest - if you'll be up for it then, of course."

"Shall I remind you who tapped out the last time?" Sebastian chuckles darkly, his hand tugging up the hem of her skirt.

"What can I say - unlike some people, I know when to stop," MC laughs, pulling him in for another kiss.

Ominis:

Since the early morning, Ominis has been quite distracted. For some reason, MC has been acting a lot more affectionately than usual. Typically, the extent of MC's affection would be holding his hand as she and Ominis walked from class to class, resting her head on his shoulder when she got tired from studying at the library, and, on occasion, interlacing their fingers under the desk during a particularly boring class.

That day, however, it seems MC was intent on taking every opportunity to brush up against Ominis or to touch him. Ominis would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy MC touching him - sometimes way more than was appropriate - yet he could not help but feel a little annoyed at just how much MC's touches distract him, bringing up the memories of the past nights that make him yearn for more.

It seems MC only gets more handsy as the day progresses. As they sit together during lunch, a moment doesn't pass without a brush of her arm against his or their knees touching under the table. It's a strange kind of torment for Ominis - he doesn't want her to stop touching him, but at the same time, he absolutely loathes just how flushed and flustered these little gestures make him. Especially since they are not alone, and others can see them.

It almost frustrates him just how much MC's simple touches are setting his very soul aflame - but what frustrates him even more is that they won't be able to get any alone time until much later in the day - they still have three more classes to attend and an Astronomy group project in the evening with Amit and Everett. Ominis takes a deep, shaky breath, trying to calm his racing heart - it works for all of thirty seconds until MC leans close, pressing her side against his as she reaches for the pitcher of pumpkin juice.

Ominis can only hope to Merlin that he'll make it through the lunch without doing something stupid - something Sebastian would definitely do if he were in his place - but it seems this isn't his lucky day.

"Ominis," MC exhales softly as she leans close enough for her breath to ghost his neck. Instantly, Ominis's mind races with memories of the last time she'd said his name like that. Hot blush rises in his cheeks as he feels his body reacting to the memory. "Could you pass me the treacle tart? It's to your left," MC continues.

Ominis blinks, confused - it takes an embarrassingly long moment before he realizes what MC just said.

"Yes, of course," he says hastily, passing her the plate.

Ominis knows that after lunch, they'll go to separate classes - he has Ancient Runes, and MC has Arithmancy - and he hopes it would give him enough time to compose himself. They walk out of the Great Hall together and up the Grand Staircase - in his years at Hogwarts, Ominis has completely memorized the routes from the Great Hall to all his classes - when MC stops.

"I can't believe this damned robe unclasped again," she complains, "Ominis, can you please help me? I cannot seem to figure this out."

"Of course," Ominis replies softly.

He's had his fair share of struggles with the Hogwarts uniform in his early years at the school and can sympathize with MC. Carefully reaching forward, he locates MC's shoulder before moving to the robe's clasps at her throat.

"All done," he says with a smile.

Suddenly, the stone rumbles under their feet as the stairs shift, and he can feel that MC is off balance. Before she falls, he reaches over to steady her. His right arm lands on her shoulder, but his left one misses the target, grazing her collarbone before accidentally sliding lower…

Instantly, crimson blush blooms on Ominis's cheeks. He's touched her in various states of undress many times before, but he would never dream of groping her like that in public.

"I'm so sorry," he apologizes profusely, his face burning with embarrassment.

"It's alright," MC chuckles, "Well, I'll see you after class."

Ominis had hoped that being away from MC for a little bit - and the mortifying incident on the staircase - would help him get ahold of himself, yet, somehow, it only made the situation worse. Try as he might, he cannot focus on the Ancient Runes. Instead, his mind incessantly conjures up memories of how MC felt against him the other night, of the way she called his name.

By the time he arrives at the library to work on the group project for Astronomy with MC, Amit, and Everett, Ominis is all but counting down the seconds till he and MC can finally be alone. The first twenty minutes pass without any incidents, and Ominis almost breathes a sigh of relief - he doesn't think he could handle MC teasing him much longer - and then, suddenly, he feels MC's hand high up on his thigh. His breath catches in his throat, and his heart beats staccato as her hand slides higher.

"For this part, we'll need "Of Moon Phases and Constellations"," Amit notes, suddenly distracting both Ominis and MC.

"Do you know where it is in the library?" MC asks

"I'm not sure," Amit says, "I've seen it both in the Astronomy stacks on the first and the second floor. MC, Ominis, would you mind checking on the second floor? Everett and I will look here."

They head upstairs - Ominis's wand is helpful for a task like this one, but the search still takes a moment since he's never held that book before.

"Found it yet?" MC leans close, her lips almost touching his ear as her warm breath sends shivers down Ominis's spine.

He cannot take this teasing anymore.

"MC, now that we are alone," he murmurs, moving towards her, "There's something I've been wanting to do all day…"

"Hmm?" she hums, openly delighted, "And what would that be?"

"I wanted to ask - must you be like this?" Ominis finishes sternly, catching MC off guard.

"I suppose I must," MC answers finally, and he can almost feel her pouting, "Since I've been trying to get your attention all day - clearly, without much success."

Ominis cannot help but chuckle as he shifts closer, "Well, now that you've got my undivided attention, what do you intend to do with it?"

"I could think of a thing or two," MC drawls, content, "How about we head right to the Undercroft?"

"Galdy," Ominis says, closing the distance and ghosting MC's lips with a featherlight kiss that makes her reach after him when he pulls away, "But not until the project is done."

"Ugh, you are terrible for making me wait that long," MC sighs.

"Says the person who's been getting me worked up and making me wait all day," Ominis chuckles.

"You know you liked it."

"That I did - and I'm about to show you just how much."

Garreth:

When a note from MC lands in front of Garreth during lunch, he's rather intrigued.

"I'd like your help with a potion after classes - if you are up for it," the note reads. A little cryptic - MC didn't bother elaborating just what kind of potions she needs help with - but Garreth finds surprises to be quite exciting.

Looking over to where MC sits at her house table, Garreth catches her gaze and smiles. MC smiles back momentarily - before turning her attention back to her rice pudding. It's not in Garreth's habit to watch people eat, and yet he finds the dedication with which MC cleans off her spoon, making sure that there's not a drop of pudding left, to be a little more engaging than he should.

That is, until MC meets his eyes again and proceeds to lick her spoon, not breaking the eye contact. Instantly, bright blush burns on Garreth's cheeks as his mind helpfully conjures up the images from just two nights prior - when she looked at him just the same as her tongue diligently…

Garreth shakes his head, trying to chase away the thoughts, but it's far too late - his treacherous body is already reacting to the images his mind so helpfully provides. It takes more strength than he'd like to admit to look away from MC, who appears quite taken with her rice pudding, but he cannot be exactly sitting at his house table fantasizing of all the ways MC's mouth… No.

He feels a little guilty - MC's just enjoying her food in peace, and all he can think about is, well, that. It's almost embarrassing the hold she has on his mind, heart, and body - but Garreth would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it, at least a little.

By the end of the lunch, he finally manages to calm his racing heart. As he gets up from his seat, he sees MC walk through the doors, heading for the Entrance Hall, and hurries to catch up with her. He finds MC sitting in a small alcove by the window, looking through a notebook in her hands.

"Ah, Garreth," she smiles, noticing him, "There you are - I've been waiting for you."

"I received your note," Garreth says, coming closer, "What is it that you needed my help with?"

"I found an intriguing potion - and I tried making it yesterday, but it seems I must have done something wrong - so I was hoping you could lend me your expertise," MC replies, looking at him through her eyelashes as she hands him her notebook, "Here, that's the recipe."

Garreth takes the notebook and glances through MC's writing - the ingredients and the recipe sound oddly familiar. It takes a moment until suddenly he realizes - it's an aphrodisiac potion, a very potent one.

"You…made this yesterday?" he asks, his mouth suddenly dry.

"Yes," MC replies calmly, "I was bored yesterday evening when you were in detention, so I figured I'd go to the Room of Requirements and try brewing something fun. Although, as I said, I don't think it came out as strong as it was meant to be - the effects wore off after only twenty minutes. If you flip a few pages, you'll see I wrote down the entire timeline…"

"You took notes as you were under the effects of the potion?" Garreth asks, wide-eyed.

"Of course - how else would I know if the results were successful," MC smiles sweetly as she gets up from her seat, "I have to go to Herbology now, but you can keep the notebook - maybe if you read through my notes, you can see where I went wrong."

"Alright," Garreth replies, his head almost spinning as he tries to chase away the images of MC that his treacherous mind keeps trying to conjure.

"I'm sure with your expert guidance, I can get this potion to work just as intended," MC leans in, looking at him through her eyelashes, "And afterward, perhaps, we could try it together, just to make sure it works?"

Garreth isn't sure how he makes it to Transfiguration - and, once in class, he absolutely cannot focus, his mind consumed with one thing - MC's notebook. He knows he should not read it - the thought of her using an aphrodisiac potion is alone enough to make him want to cut class and head to his dorm room for some privacy, and if he got to read her notes…

Curiosity, as always, gets the better of Garreth. During the short break between his two afternoon classes, he gives in. MC's writing starts innocent enough, with her discussing the color and flavor of the potion and the way it made her feel warm and tingly when she took it. What follows is filth - pure, unadulterated filth - and Garreth cannot get enough of it.

She has a way with words, Garreth will give her that - he's almost painfully aroused after reading just a few sentences. Though, if she was only a fraction as eloquent, he's sure he'd enjoy it all the same - how could he not when she'd meticulously detailed all the things she wished he did to her as she touched herself?

By the time Potions - the last class of the day - rolls around, Garreth can hardly contain himself. When he sees MC outside the Potions classroom, and she smiles at him that sweet, faux-innocent smile, he knows he won't make it through the lesson.

"You know," he says, grasping MC's wrist, "Why don't we skip this class and work on that potion you showed me earlier?"

"Oh?" MC smiles, "Well, I don't see why not."

Once they are in the Room of Requirements, Garreth draws her in for a deep, passionate kiss.

"Hold on now," MC laughs, pulling away, "This part is for after we try the potion."

"Well, you should blame your notes," Garreth replies, drawing her in for another kiss, "Reading that made every aphrodisiac potion pale in comparison."

"Oh my," MC chuckles, "Perhaps, I could read you some of my favorite excerpts before we start then? You know, for science."

Garreth's all too happy to oblige.

[gendrie]

curretly thinking how much Arya would have loved Arianne or Margaery, they would have really helped her be the person she wanted to be. Arya would have loved them so much and I'm sure if Arya had known them she would have wished they were her sister.

its a fun and interesting thing to consider on a lot of different levels (which i guess is why your ask inspired me to go off on some insane tangent)

margaery has quite a bit in common with arya: avid horseback riders, highly sociable, energetic, close with her brothers. its funny that sansa views one as her ideal sister while continuing to disparage her real sister's ghost as marg takes her on an active, outdoorsy date where they're hunting and riding (not unlike what arya wanted to do in sansa's 1st chapter) generally, arya was restricted from hunting type hobbies.......despite the fact it always been a common activity for highborn women.

which is a major flaw in grrm's early worldbuilding that marg and arianne (among MANY others) emphasize. in agot we get a glimpse into arya's upbringing and the expectation is an extremely narrow feminine ideal. sure, arya is given a lot of freedom to play but her (and sansa's) education is mostly left to an incompetent septa. they're clearly being molded for a mostly ornamental role and that is at odds with the rest of the text. ive complained about this before bc catelyn is not a vain character. she values practicality and duty. she was a teen bride and ran riverrun (+winterfell) from a young age. so why are her daughters being turned into dolls by an outsider? why werent practical skills prioritized?

for relevant context: in agot im fairly certain we get only one (1) adult northern born woman on page: maege mormont who is fierce, outspoken, and wields a weapon. (slightly ot note:) i hate the show as much as the next person but arya being a proficient archer from jump wasnt actually a half bad idea........precedent for that in canon too from rohanne webber to alysanne blackwood to ygritte. the wildlings are another notable example of northern women. so riddle me this: if 99% of the north's female characters break the feminine mold (lyanna, arya, wylla, the mormonts, the wildlings, meera, alys) why are they treated as the exception by the fandom? *syrio voice* i am wondering! (im not actually its bc tumblr dot com values the traditionally feminine ideal)

and i dont buy that its exclusively a north vs. south issue. when we meet the tyrell women we see that marg has been raised by olenna to be shrewd and capable. but catelyn is a deadbeat mother lol. neither arya or sansa think about her giving them guidance, advice, lessons, ect. arya was, apparently, just told to look pretty. catelyn's main memory of sansa is that she has nice hair. like.......ok. grrm is on record saying he regrets not developing the relationship between cat and her daughters, but unlike my next point this is something he never even tried to fix.

theres a real lack of female companions in general to start. now to grrms credit he clearly realized this oversight AND attempted to course correct with success imo. ie: arya's storyline in braavos features a lot of female characters (a trend i expect to only grow stronger in twow). as do most of the others.

arianne and her crew are an even more dramatic southron example. arya is treated like a freak for wanting basic autonomy; then we go to dorne and those girlies do whatever the hell they want for the most part: spears, studies, sex, ect. doran only draws the line at treason bc they were fucking up his own shit. but yeah needless to say arya wouldve flourished.

similarly, i love to think about arya being fostered on bear island or post series some of them joining arya's household. im genuinely desperate to see her interacting with the mormonts. i start shaking when i think about aly en route to braavos.

my point here is that i think the dynamic we're introduced to in winterfell, among the female characters, in agot looks very unusual in hindsight. and the worst part is that arya gets regarded by the fandom as a pariah who's only fate could be exile bc she doesnt meet an oppressive standard set by one annoying septa who made her feel bad about herself.

[starstruckmoony]

I am sooo glad you take requests! Feel free to decline this if you dont like the idea but can you write a fic with either James or Sirius (your choice :)) in which the reader fears intimacy and like has a hard time trusting people, which makes them not believe James/Sirius’ love so they think the flirting is just a friendship thing. And they cant understand why reader keeps running away but when they find out the reason James/Sirius tries to convince the reader to give their relationship a chance? I hope you like the idea, thank you so much in advance!!

thank you for the request anon!! sorry for taking too long with this, exams got in the way so my motivation for anything was pretty much below zero :") but i loooove this idea, so here you go! i hope you like it! <333

daylight.

masterlist

pairing - sirius black x reader

trope/tags - friends to lovers, fluff

word count - 3.6k

warnings - language

sirius black was what one may call a heartthrob. winning everybody over with the snap of a finger, being the main topic on everyone's diary pages, having people fall to their knees with a simple glance sent in their direction. some wanted to be him, some wanted him. he loved the attention, of course, the thrill of having so many people fall for you was rather addicting thing for a teenager, but he wanted someone else, and that someone just happened to be you. and it wasn't just a simple type of want, the "let's snog in the broomstick closet a couple of times till i get bored of you and find another", no. he wanted all of you. sirius black was in love, but it was really not going his way this time.

"i don't know why i keep getting rejected." sirius whined hopelessly, tossing his tie somewhere on the floor in frustration and slumping down onto his bed. the mattress squeaked from the impact, making remus look up from his open book.

"you've been on nine dates." james pointed out, trying to calm the other down. nine didn't seem like a big number to him (as he had gone on at least 30 with lily before she agreed to become his girlfriend), so the poor bloke got ignored. sirius kept on rambling thoughtlessly.

"that's the bloody problem, nine dates, prongs, nine! and you know what? they weren't even proper dates. not even proper dates! do you hear that? like are you getting that? not. even. proper. dates. fuck!" sirius grunted, falling back into his pillows with a rather distressed sounding sigh. remus rolled his eyes.

"they weren't?" peter chimed in. he wasn't usually the one who showed much interest in his friends' love lives, but he sure found  whatever the hell sirius had going on with you rather intriguing.

"'it was lovely hanging out with you sirius, you're a wonderful friend.' after each and every single one so, no, don't think they were." peter felt guilty for cringing, and he could only look towards sirius with a sympathetic glance.

remus, on the other hand, was finding the situation a bit ridiculous. he simply couldn't suppress a snort, and sirius did not fail to catch it, "what are you laughing at?"

"you." he threw a pillow in remus' face.

"give it more time, mate, i'm sure it'll work out eventually." james was really trying his best to reassure his best friend, but it was never easy with sirius. especially not now that you were in question.

"don't you think i'm trying? i'm– fuck. fucking fuck." he put his face into his hands, groaning loudly in distress."i think i'm gonna go mental." he said dramatically.

"seems like you're very serious about this, sirius." remus said nonchalantly, drawing laughs from both james and peter. sirius inhaled sharply. he was, indeed, very serious about you. it wasn't everyday that he actually felt like he was falling somebody, and it certainly wasn't everyday that he, sirius black, one of the most confident blokes in the whole bloody school, was turning red trying to talk to a person. and you just kept rejecting him, subtly that is. friend this, friend that. friend, friend, friend. he loathed the word. he wanted you, and not in the platonic sense.

"you lot are shit mates, you know that?" sirius huffed angrily, crossing his arms and sulking like a frustrated toddler.

"we love you too, padfoot." james blew a kiss his way, jumping up onto his feet when sirius began chasing after him with a wand in hand. they sped down the stairs from the dormitories and into the common room - sirius was yelling and james was laughing hysterically. the pair ran past the sofa where you and lily were sitting. you were pretty sure they fell over somewhere outside the portrait hole and were probably wrestling judging by the sounds they were making.

"that's the man you fancy, huh?" marlene scoffed from the corner of the room, giving you a judgemental stare. you shrugged, scratching the back of your neck in thought. yes, that was the man you fancied indeed. sometimes you wondered why, but then he'd lock his eyes with yours and every sense of doubt and uncertainty would wipe itself away. it wasn't all that easy, though.

"and lily's gonna marry his other half," mary put a hand over her heart, "how romantic." she wiped away a fake tear.

"romantic?" marlene said in disgust.

"oh sod off, you two." lily rolled her eyes. "sirius isn't half-bad." her way of speaking was so honest, it was suspicious. you squinted your eyes at her skeptically.

"what? can't really chat shit when my boyfriend is basically the same, minus the lack of critical thinking and self-awareness." lily winked at you. you put your face into your hands, screaming into them. you heard mary snicker.

"are we talking about the same james?" marlene teased, raising an eyebrow. you suppressed a laugh.

"we get it, you hate men." remus rolled his eyes as he appeared in the common room, and let himself fall onto the couch right next to you. he stared at you in amusement when he noticed your regretful expression.

"something on your mind?" he questioned.

"sirius," mary coughed, "sirius." she coughed again.

"oh." remus laughed to himself, and then went quiet. you thought, hoped, that the conversation would come to an end there, but remus had different intentions.

"do i create drama or not?" he said in thought, trailing his eyes over you and your friends. you pursed your lips in thought.

"oh, please do, the last interesting thing that happened was when marlene and dorcas were found snogging in the forbidden forest after attempting to use the imperius curse on one another." mary said desperately.

"and that was two months ago." lily added.

"i hate all of you." marlene made a face, and stuck a hand down her pocket to pull out a cigarette.

"alright then," remus smirked, throwing an arm around you, "sirius threw a tantrum about five minutes ago because you keep rejecting him." your eyes widened. you stopped breathing for a moment. what the hell?

lily's jaw dropped in amusement, marlene burst out laughing, and mary appeared to be coming up with plans on how to organise your wedding ceremony. for real this time.

"i'm sorry, what? he what– he did– remus–" you stumbled over your words, not knowing how to form them. sirius fancies you. you flung yourself backwards into the couch, your face was painted with worry. sirius black threw a tantrum because you rejected him. sirius fucking black threw a tantrum because you rejected him. "merlin's bloody beard, what the hell?" you ran your hands through your hair, exhaling exhaustedly.

luckily, none of your friends were that oblivious, and they quickly noticed that you weren't taking piss acting like nothing of this sort had ever actually been brought to your attention.

"hey, why the face? that's good news!"

"am i experiencing the consequences of miscommunication again?"

"i thought you fancied him!"

"are you okay?"

questions, so many questions and shocked and confused faces left and right. as much as you hated to admit it, you did owe them an explanation. this wasn't the only occasion on which people tried to tell you sirius was into you, but it was different this time because it was coming from remus. sirius was into you. he was into you. he was fucking into you. he wasn't just playing around like he does with others.

"i know, mary. and no, remus. and yes, i do, marlene. and honestly, lily, i don't know." you said it all in one breath, tiredly sighing. you'd been head over heels for the man for years, yet it always felt off. no one knew why though, you never brought it up. your friends knew you fancied him, but you never dared to tell them why you were pushing him away whenever he tried to initiate something. in truth, you were afraid of relationships and you feared intimacy. it wasn't something you could just overcome overnight. you had a difficult time trusting others and you were always vary of who you shared your secrets with and who you would open up to, anyway. so the thing was, it only became worse when it actually came to dating and falling in love.

to top it all off, sirius was naturally flirty, so you too, naturally, brushed it off and chalked it up to his normal, daily behaviour. you'd seen him jokingly flirt and kiss james, and mary, and marlene, and even remus who slapped him for it once, so you simply couldn't envision sirius returning the feelings when he was acting like every single one of his friends was also his significant other. all of that put together felt like an absolute train wreck and you didn't know what to do about it.

both lily and remus soon had their arms around you, and were looking at each other as if they were trying to find a way to telecommunicate and figure out what was wrong. marlene and mary moved over from the corner they were sitting in to the floor, and they were in front of you, with worried and comforting eyes.

"you can say what's wrong, y/n, it's alright." mary said, squeezing your knee reassuringly.

"we won't tell a soul." marlene added with a smile.

"it's just that– i'm– fuck," you started, not knowing if you should talk. you met lily's troubled expression and swallowed the lump on your throat,"i'm so horrified of relationships and sirius is– he doesn't– i thought he was just fucking around and i don't even know if i can trust him to not break my heart and i just– he's the same with everyone, you know, flirting and and all that and i don't want to be hurt and it feels like shit. actual, fucking shit. and intimacy– merlin, don't even get me started– it's scaring me, all of it. and then in the end– i just start feeling like i won't ever be loved, like truly loved, you know?"

"y/n–"

"don't 'y/n' me and try to say you understand." you snapped, "do you know what it feels like? looking at everyone around you all cuddly and giggly with their boyfriends and girlfriends and then feeling like you're going bloody mental because you want it too but you're fucking terrified of it all and then you can't tell if the guy you're into likes you back or not because he flirts with anything that fucking moves and breathes? no, you don't." you bit the inside of your cheek in frustration, and then tried to wiggle out of lily and remus' grasp, but they held you back.

"listen, to me, y/n. it's okay, alright? you're not going mental, or insane or anything like that. and i can assure you're not the only one who's felt like that before." remus said the words a bit unsurely, but not untruthfully. you leaned your head onto lily's shoulder.

"but, what can i do about it? i can't just ignore it all and hope it goes away." you said honestly. you had no idea what to do, and you were afraid that you had no other option but the one you wanted to avoid most.

"well, talking to sirius would be a good start." mary suggested. the other three nodded along.

"and then what?"

"then, assuming that he'll understand what you're saying, you'll feel better and maybe even get a boyfriend who will accept your fears won't force you to do things you don't want to do." lily finished, smiling affirmatively.

"but what if it doesn't work?"

"fuck him." marlene said without thinking, "no really, fuck him. you deserve someone way better, not some slimy prat who can't even respect the person he bloody fancies."

"fuck who and when and where?" sirius entered the common room, appearing rather dishevelled.

"speak of the devil." remus spoke under his breath.

"definitely not you, black." marlene stood up from the floor, returning to her spot in the corner and picking up her cigarette which was sitting in a make-shift ashtray. he flipped her off, and then ascended the stairs to the boys' dormitories.

the following week, something shifted. it's not like you and sirius drifted apart, you didn't, but he stopped being... him? no more hand touching, no more kisses on the cheek. but there were more questions, more asking of what you're comfortable with rather than just doing it immediately. and that's when you began suspecting he overheard your conversation with remus and the girls as you had sort of forgotten him and james were just outside the portrait hole.

in reality, that wasn't really the case. sirius just became kind of, well, depressed. after his little outburst in the dormitories, he lost all of that little hope he had for starting a relationship with you. he didn't know what he was doing wrong, and why you kept putting him in the friendzone when his friends had been telling him that you were clearly into him. was it you? was it him? was it neither of those things?

he became cautious. didn't want to touch you anymore, scared thinking that it upset you. didn't want to flirt with you either, terrified that it made you feel uneasy. his melancholy over it all began projecting onto everybody else around him.

james gave up on attempting to comfort him because he himself was too exhausted by sirius' constant state of dread. peter stayed out of it. and remus, well, remus was fed up with him and would have probably murdered him on a couple of occasions if james wasn't there to jump in and snatch his wand away.

"i still don't know what i did wrong. can someone tell me what i did wrong? 'cause i don't know what i did wrong!" sirius buried his face into his pillow, screaming into it. same thing, over and over, every day, every night.

james and peter glanced at each other, no words exchanged, and they both pretended to be occupied with something else. remus tried his best to ignore him, and continued writing the essay he was working on.

"is there something wrong with me? like geniuenly is there? am i fucked up? oh no, i might be fucked up, what if i really am?" remus' quill snapped. james let out a huff of frustration. peter hid in the bathroom. and sirius kept talking.

"y/n hates me, i just know it. it's 'cause i'm fucked up, that's what i get for–"

"merlin's beard, will you shut up?" remus finally snapped. sirius pouted, looking up at the ceiling with glossy eyes. the other boy sighed, standing up from his own bed and walking over to sirius'. he wasn't planning on ratting you out, you were supposed to talk to sirius and tell him everything yourself, but remus was tired. tired of looking at his friend go through a major case of self-destruction, and tired of having to endure it all. so remus talked, maybe when he shouldn't have, but he did not regret one bit of it.

***

"are you free right now by any chance?" sirius burst into your room a week later, uninvited and without making any previous announcements.

"uh–" you dropped your notebook and quill, awkwardly tossing them to the side, "yeah, definitely. "

"fantastic, let's go." he grinned, stuffing his hands into his pockets and trotting out of the room. you stood up from your bed and quickly put on some shoes, following after him. you happened to pass by james who gave you a pat on the shoulder. one more reason to think him and sirius know. great. fantastic. amazing. the lake was looking rather attractive today.

"where are we going?" you asked once you were by sirius' side.

"was thinking about a walk, nothing too crazy."

"oh, yeah, that sounds nice."

that's what you did. walked and talked around hogwarts, and in the end found yourselves sitting at the said lake despite the  clouds which started covering the sky. sirius never brought up what happened the week before, but you weren't sure if you could stay quiet any longer. it stressed you out more than all of your stupid exams combined, and really, he was going to find out one way or another.

"are you alright?" you asked. not a bad start, you told yourself.

"mhm, why wouldn't i be?" he responded, falling backwards into the grass in sighing in content. you followed his movements, lying flat onto your back.

"i don't know, you're too... alert. acting like i'd break if you touch me or something." you said, fumbling with your hands.

"what?" he turned his head to the side to look at you.

"you heard what i said that night on saturday, after we got back from hogsmeade, didn't you?" you were looking at him too.

"what are you on about–"

"how i said i fancy you but i'm scared of dating you because i'm horrified of getting intimate and i don't know if i can trust you not to hurt me?" you explained, thinking that it would help him remember. or stop playing around with you. he was quiet. you regretted speaking, and were ready walk off, and probably would have if he hadn't grabbed you by the hand when you tried to.

"no, wait! just wait, please." he choked out. and so you did.

"i stopped it all because i thought you didn't feel that way about me," he began, you listened attentively, "everyone told me that you did, and that it would work out and stuff, but i don't know, you always made sure i knew i was your friend, so i figured i should stop pestering you and just settle for that instead." he finished with a shrug.

"oh, no, sirius." you groaned, hugging your knees to your chest and burying your face into them. "and then, uhm," sirius licked his lips, as if he was trying to find the right way to form whatever he was going to say, "remus told me, uh, the same thing you just did." you looked up and at him, scanning his face for any sign of judgement and disappointment, but there was none of it.

"i was convinced he was taking the piss at first or trying to set me up for embarrassment or something 'cause i was getting on his nerves, don't even know what was going through my head," he laughed at himself, "but then i thought about what he said, and i was trying to find a way to talk to you and uhm..." he scratched the back of his head. "turns out i'm not that cool. every time i told myself i'll try, i felt like running off somewhere and hiding 'cause i was horrified you'd reject me. still am, honestly but that doesn't matter 'cause i still– i still wanna be with you, y/n."

you opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. sirius black left you speechless once again. he wanted to be with you, even after knowing that what he might get won't be like all of those others relationships he's had before.

"look, i really like you, and i don't think i've ever felt that way about anyone. i know that it doesn't sound convincing coming from me, but it's true. i wanna be with you, like i really, really do because i love you and i–" he cursed silently. a smile began forming on your face, and he wasn't even done yet. "can you give us a chance, please? i'll talk to you, you'll talk to me, we'll communicate everything, if i'm doing anything that's bothering you i'll stop, i'll ask questions, i'll try my best to make it feel right for you, i'll fullfill any wish you have–"

"sirius."

"and if you still don't feel ready or if you're still having doubts, it's okay. i'm not gonna force you to date me, we can be just friends, or break up and still be friends, or break up and never–"

"sirius!"

"what?"

"stop talking."

"okay."

"we can date."

"what?"

"i'll give you a chance."

"oh." he stared out at the lake in shock, his mouth hanging open slightly. "oh!" he turned to look at you, and the smile that stood on his face was brighter than any star in the sky. he pressed his own hands against his cheeks, touching the as if he was trying to check if they were warm or not.

"am i turning red?"

"a little bit." you snickered, your eyes never leaving him. the relief you felt was indescribable. you'd gone out with him today, terrified of what might happen, thinking that you'll lose him forever. and then there you were, with sirius black blushing right in front of you because he was madly in love with you.

"can i uhm–" he cleared his throat, shaking his head for a moment in attempt to get out of the haze that he was stuck in, "kiss... you...?"

"yeah." you said the words in a small voice. the panic on sirius' face was pretty noticeable, and you would have probably laughed in his face to cope with awkwardness you were feeling yourself if he hadn't kissed you before you could. he hesitantly cupped your cheek with his hand, but when you let yourself relax into his touch, he was calmer too.

you pulled away from each other after a few seconds, and you could see that sirius was having hard time holding back a grin. this time you laughed in his face, he laughed at you for laughing at him, and the cycle only continued.