#and now i’m getting into rainbow high i don’t even know why like it just happened

[a-walking-fandom-reference]

micro-dosing on doll collecting by looking at dolls online and research binging about the characters

[cheesiedomino]

Second Chances ꙳ ੭ * ‧

synopsis: your old situationship from many years ago just moved back in town and of course, he has to text you. but it’s not just any normal text — he’s asking you out on a proper date this time. will you give a second chance to Cupid? or will you be left here feeling stupid?

genre: lee minho x fem!reader | exes (??) to lovers wc: 4.6k tags/warnings: fluff, some light angst, slightly suggestive but nothing srs, mild cursing, kissing, small mentions of crying T-T

now playing 🎧: from the start by laufey

[this is part of my valentine’s series where i write a short story for each member surrounding themes of love, newfound romance, relationship hardships & more.]

“Why don’t you give Tinder a try already? I’m sick of hearing you nagging all day about being lonely!” Areum abruptly suggests mid-convo , resting her palm on the side of her face.

As you both casually wait for the food to arrive, you end up on the dreadful topic of dating again. You got into a real heated discussion with her, sitting in a booth at this new restaurant one of your coworker’s recommended. It wasn’t super well known but they wouldn’t stop raving about how delicious their breadsticks were. The place wasn’t too jam packed but definitely had a decent amount of people. What you weren’t anticipating on was seeing dozens of couples here, it kind of threw your whole vibe off since it only reminded you of your current sad relationship status. Maybe you were putting far too much thought into it but everything seemed so highly unfair. Glaring in envy while they all happily rub in your face that they’ve found their forever companion.

Life really can be cruel at times.

“You can’t be for real right now..” you instantly side eye your friend from across the table. Feeling personally triggered whenever she mentions online dating. You refuse to try it, never wanting to partake in such a vain concept where you swipe left and right based solely on looks. “That’s not the same as real romance. I want to meet someone naturally, wanna tell my kids when they grow up how I met their dreamy, hunk of a father in aisle 39 at Whole Foods.”

One could say it’s almost pathetic in a way— this burning desire you harbor within, longing for a pure, quaint, and beautiful love. Constantly catching yourself daydreaming about finding your life partner, the person you’re going to marry and possibly create an eternal family with. That day has yet to come unfortunately, but you still hold onto the thought of you someday meeting the one.

You thought you found them before, but thou shalt not speak thy names out into existence.

“Well, good luck finding ‘real romance’ in the big age of 2024-” Areum snorts in amusement, taking a pause to sip on her mango strawberry lemonade. “I need whatever drugs you’re on that’s making you this delulu so I can fantasize about my knight and shining armor that’s never coming!”

God you hate that word. Delulu. Why are you suddenly “delusional” for wanting a picture perfect romance? It doesn’t need to be perfect per se, but you want to feel adored, swept off your feet and embraced like the true queen you are. Was that too much to ask? Considering the current state of dating in this day and age, it might just be.

“I mean, let’s face it girl. You literally don’t know the first thing about love ___, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows like in the K-dramas y’know! Haven’t you only had like one boyfriend in high school? You barely even dated that guy for a month-”

“That’s because he dumped me to go move to LA and become a dumb YouTuber!” You snapped back, cutting her off to get all the facts straight.

It was hard not to grimace while thinking of such old memories. Dating a Minecraft streamer definitely had to be one of the most embarrassingly cringe choices you’ve ever made.

“Whatever that’s beside the point. What I’m trying to get at here is you don’t have the best track record when it comes to men. Remember that other guy you were seeing before we graduated? I thought y’all would’ve dated for sure but he turned out to be a dickhole just like the rest of ‘em…” Areum shakes her head in disbelief, recalling all those times you’d call in a frenzied panic about things not working out.

“What was his name again? Min… Minwoo? No, that’s not it.. it was definitely Min something.” She attempts on remembering but keeps drawing a blank.

“Minho.” You answer almost instantaneously. His name still rolled off the tongue smooth as velvet.

It felt weird though. Saying it out loud after so many years of blocking it from your immediate vocabulary. A name you thought would never escape your lips again.

“Damn, you really still think about him don’t you?” She dares to ask, knowing how difficult it is for you to even talk about this anymore.

You only respond by nodding slowly, unable to bring yourself to look at her. It was far too intense; bearing the emotions of hurt and guilt from a past fling that meant more to you but nothing to the other. That’s how most of your tragic stories end— always too overly into them while they barely reciprocate any of that energy towards you. The thing is, you thought Minho actually liked you, even so far as wanting to date in the near future. Considering he brought you over his parent’s house (to hook up of course), and though you didn’t meet them you still think that meant something. Most men don’t just bring any woman they’re seeing to their parent’s place without somewhat thinking a potential relationship could happen down the line.

“So that’s why you should download Tinder and start swipin’ on some other cuties! It’ll at least distract you for a bit and get your mind off that asswipe,” Areum pitches her idea once more, “there’s plenty other fish in the sea ___. Not everyone online is some crazy serial killer, plus you clearly don’t seem to be having much luck out in the real world.”

You wanted to jump up from the table and erase that smirk from her face but instead you roll your eyes at that last remark. “I don’t need those shitty dating apps. I’m very capable of finding someone in real life for your information!” You quickly retort as a means to defend yourself. Even though she did have a point, her delivery could’ve been a little bit nicer.

It’s not easy being a hopeless romantic, you can’t help but yearn for that special someone to enter your life and change it for the better. You won’t feel wholly satisfied nor complete until you do. The sad reality of the matter was that you are still painfully single. No one’s interesting enough to cease your attention, let alone go on any actual dates. Areum’s had enough of your bitching and whining though, there’s only so many rants and tirades she can keep listening to about your vicious hatred for men before she loses it completely. Your nonexistent love life has become more of a nuisance as that time of year approaches— Valentine’s Day. A god forsaken holiday you’ve always loathed with a passion. Wanting nothing more than to be one of those girls on the receiving end getting flowers and chocolates. A day full of the utmost joy and pleasant surprises from your loving significant other.

Must be nice..

Speaking of surprises.. The buzzing in your ear echoes from your phone pinging loudly, indefinitely startling you. Grabbing it to check the sudden notification, your eyes go absurdly wide at the contact name displayed on your screen. Blinking numerous times from shock, you stare at your phone in incredulity; making sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you.

Lee Minho. The Lee Minho?

What kind of sorcery is being conjured where the instant you bring him up, he somehow texts you after all these years of not speaking? This coincidence was more than unsettling to you. A part of your inner thoughts still believes this is all some elaborate joke being played on you, waiting for a cameraman to pop out of some curtain to announce you’ve just been pranked. But nothing happens, life proceeds as normal. Now you’re left with the most puzzling notification you might’ve ever received.

It was your last year of college and the pressure of your academics along with appeasing your family was getting to you immensely. You needed an escape from all of it, desperately. Which you found through none other than Lee Minho, the boy who worked as a barista at Cozmo’s; this coffee shop you used to frequent a lot. It was a cute, small family-owned establishment and they made the best matcha lattes— in your humble opinion. You’d pick one up almost every day along with a slice of freshly baked cinnamon bread. It started off as only playful banter with him in the beginning, then it lead to more as time went on. One day, as you reached out to pay he blocked your hand from moving any closer, letting you freely walk away without spending a dime. This soon became a regular occurrence, as you’d start seeing Minho outside of work, getting to know more and more about him. You remember so desperately wanting to date back then, pitying your past self for thinking there was even a chance.

‘Maybe he’s just texted the wrong person’ you psyche yourself into thinking, but when you unlock your phone to finally read the message — an uncomfortable lump forms in the pit of your throat.

Minho 🐈:

Hey is this still ___’s number?

You honestly don’t know why you still have his number saved, let alone allowing a whole emoji to be next to it. Though it never was like you to delete anything, no matter how painful it may have been. More lingering questions makes you want to seek out the possible solutions. Why would he text you of all people ? None of this adds up in your mind realistically. Furrowing your brows in concentration, you think of what to say as you draft out a response.

Yes… who’s this?

After a tedious struggle of typing out multiple paragraphs and immediately deleting them, you went over your words a few more times before sending a final reply. It would’ve been strange had you knew exactly who he was off the bat, that’ll just be dead giveaway you still had his contact info saved this whole time. But with that logic, doesn’t that make Minho just as odd for still keeping your number after all this time has passed?

Your phone dings again.

Minho 🐈:

Srsly -_-

Did you really delete my number??

Bet he didn’t see that one coming. He probably thought the moment he texts you, you were gonna kiss up to him like you’ve always done in the past. Mentally giggling to yourself at the image of him getting flustered by you not knowing who he was at first. Feels good to know you knocked his confidence down a peg.

Lol, chillax.. I know it’s you Minho :P

Not even a minute later, a flood of incoming messages appear. Biting your lip out of nervousness, your heart couldn’t stop beating so fast— anxiously checking your phone as the atmosphere around you suddenly gets stuffier.

Minho 🐈:

Better be lucky I didn’t block you after that ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

Guess who’s back in the city btw. Did ya miss me? ;)

No need to answer that, I already know you did. You should stop by at Cozmo’s again sometime!

Also what’re you up to this week? I need you to clear out all your plans because I’m taking you out on a date.

You always knew Minho was the bold type but this was on another level. The sheer audacity he has to even ask something like this after not reaching out for almost 3 years was more than ballsy on his part. It felt like a surge of butterflies erupting in your stomach, getting lightheaded as you think about seeing him again. He really had an effect on you like no other.

Glancing up from your screen to finally pay attention to Areum again, you assure her everything’s going to be just fine. “Looks like I won’t be needing to download Tinder after all.”

Later on that day you ended up going to Cozmo’s and meeting up with Minho. It never really took much convincing from him to get you to budge, though it was a hell of a lot worse back then. You used to blindly follow along with anything he said just to seek his approval, hoping that eventually he’ll see you as the girl he wants to settle down with. Alas, nothing ever blossomed into something more, and you knew deep down that this was headed nowhere— but that still didn’t stop you from fantasizing about a future with him. Getting lost into deep thought, head heavy in the clouds as you imagine the idea of Minho confessing his undying love for you. You’ll be so caught off guard as he gets down on one knee, looking at you with the entire solar system in eyes while he proposes in the most charming way. It really is pitiful how much you still daydream about a guy who wasn’t your boyfriend but would constantly act like he was, then up and leaves without mentioning a single word about it.

You convinced yourself he ran off with someone else to have a better life with, even hearing through town gossip that he’s moved to South Korea to pursue becoming an idol. Whatever the case may be it still weighed heavily on your mind that he never bothered to tell you anything, even a simple ‘goodbye’ would’ve sufficed the empty hole in your heart. The main reason you agreed on meeting up with Minho was to finally ask, why? Why did he pretend to like you? Why did he act like your boyfriend when he never had intentions on seriously dating? Why was he so good at making you fall so hard for him..?

“You look great.” You subconsciously blurt out, affixed in a daze as you stare in awe at the man in front of you.

It’s been a while since you came here— never able to fully bring yourself to try and go back. Though you knew this place first, and they really did have the best Mactha lattes in the universe. It reminded you too much of him and you sadly had to let it go.

You weren’t proud of it but you did go home quickly to change clothes and redo your makeup. Usually you wouldn’t care but this was the only guy you’ve been consistently crushing on for years, you had to feel good inside and out. Minho was just as gorgeous as you remembered, if not he looked even more ethereal — which seemed impossible in itself already. He’s grown up so beautifully, his facial features became more sharp, especially his jawline which looks so defined and sculpted by the Gods.

Minho lightly chuckles at your timidness, some things just never change. “You look way better.” His lips drew into a faint smirk as he admires your presence.

He meant every word of what he said, you looked really good, and it was making him even more frustrated that so much time has passed. Regretting the way he handled things so many years ago, wishing he could take it all back and do everything differently. Seeing you again made it easier for Minho to suppress the guilt he’s borne for so long. This moment feels like a second chance to make amends for his past mistakes.

You couldn’t help but blush when you hear his compliment, feeling your ears grow hot as you look at the ground. There was a silent pause between you that lasted for what seemed like ages. Weirdly enough the conversation flowed well after he finally broke the awkwardness, the chemistry was overall still there and were able to pick up right where it left off.

“I’m so glad you came ___, I’ve been dying to see you since I got here. I’m surprised you even still responded to my lame ass.”

Minho’s light confession puzzles you. If he really was dying to see you, why’d he wait so long to get in contact with you? To be fair, you don’t know the exact time he came back.

“Oh, is that so? When’d you come back? Also show me pics of Korea, I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like there.” You fondly inquire, leaning against the side of the wall as he’s still behind the counter. He mentioned to you he’s only working part time because his parents would rather mooch off their son for free labor than to hire and pay a new employee.

“Yesterday,” he quickly states before taking out his phone to scroll through his gallery, “guess my sister must’ve told you I went there huh?”

You shook your head, “Nah, I haven’t talked to Elle in a while. She’s tried hitting me up a few times though.. but I found out through Areum ‘cause she was seeing Hoseok back then.”

They were definitely “seeing” each other alright, but mostly in the bedroom. Areum didn’t want anything exclusive with Hoseok and neither did he, it was the perfect friends with benefits situation. Minho and Hoseok were good friends who’ve known each other for a while, so naturally he’d tell Areum everything and overshare at some point.

“Agh, there’s a customer gotta take this. One sec, sorry!” He briefly apologizes before bringing his attention to the new person heading inside. You nod, signaling he’s good to go. “I’ll be waiting over there,” you point to a small wooden table with 2 chairs in a corner.

Once Minho comes back you notice he’s no longer wearing his purple work apron; back in his regular attire now and sporting an oversized dark grey hoodie that was three times too big. He was holding a large cup with green liquid and a paper bag in his hand, that’s when it clicks for you— he still remembers your favorite meal.

He’s grinning the whole time he’s handing you the matcha latte and cinnamon pastry, smiling from ear to ear like a kid on Christmas Day. This was the most you’ve seen him be so enthusiastic about something, even back when you were “with” him you can’t recall him beaming with such energy like this.

“Awh, thank you. I haven’t had either one of these in years!” You wanted to give him the biggest hug but you refrained from doing so, feeling as though it may be too early for that.

“Of course dear, anything for you.”

Why does everything he says have to make you melt from the inside out? It’s not fair! >:(

Glancing down at your yummy beverage, you see a message written on the side of the glass with bold permanent sharpie. Tilting your head to read it, the words are bit jumbled together but you get the gist. You’re almost left speechless after it reads: ‘___, Will you be my valentine?’

Your most dreaded and least favorite holiday is here, yippee! But, there’s a twist on this year’s turn of events; you actually have someone to celebrate this wretched tradition with. You should be excited but all you’re feeling is the sudden urge to vomit as you were nervous out of your mind. This was kind of weird to you, going on a date with your ex boyfriend who was never even your real boyfriend. Looking back on it now you shouldn’t have tolerated a relationship dynamic like that, Minho was clearly taking advantage of your passiveness by not explicitly saying what he wanted. On the contrary, you had no one to blame but yourself, you never spoke up or criticized anything even if it didn’t coincide with your personal morals.

The fact he never took you on an actual date until now speaks volumes, you obviously didn’t have enough self worth back to demand better treatment. It took you years of figuring out what a real, healthy relationship is supposed to be like through trials of therapy and that was an emotional rollercoaster in itself. All your uncertainties soon faded away once you became more secure and knew exactly what you wanted for yourself. It took every ounce of patience and acceptance to unlearn all your bad coping mechanisms and other toxic behaviors that were only stunting your inner growth. You’re happy to be in a position now where you’re able to express wholeheartedly what you deserve, it’s the best feeling ever to feel like you’re in control of your own life.

You spent almost 3 hours getting ready and your bedroom now looked like a war zone. The outfit you chose was super girly, a frilly white dress with pink platform heels— Minho’s going to drool in amazement when he sees you. When you sent Areum photos of you before heading out, she responds right way with a series of hearts and other sweet comments— hyping you up to no end like the best friend she is. She’s also able to help pull you out of your doubtful headspace, when you felt unsure if you could really go through with this she quickly psyched you out of it. Reminding you exactly who you are and why you are the prize, not him. ‘He should be the one who’s nervous, not the other way around’ you assure yourself over and over as a mini ego boost.

His jaw dropped when he spotted you walking up to his car, infatuated by how pretty and perfect you looked in every way possible. It angers him so much to know he took all this for granted, he didn’t appreciate all of you the way he should’ve but now he gets another chance to redo everything and right his wrongs. It’s a lot of pressure but he bravely accepts it, he could never mess up another opportunity like this again. The car ride was fairly silent in the beginning, you were vibing in peace as the only thing you could hear was Minho’s soft indie playlist as background music.

You ultimately chose to be the one to speak first, breaking the ice with a simple inquiry about the date. “So where are we going?” Looking out at the scenery from the window, all you is trees and more trees. If it’s something to do with nature you surely don’t want any parts of it, you’ve never been too fond of the wilderness.

“It’s a surprise, I can’t tell you.” He keeps a tight seal on today’s destination without dropping a single hint, forcing you to go completely blind into this. As he goes back to focus on the road, you sigh anxiously after hearing him refuse to disclose anything.

Did he seriously forget what kind of person you are? Anyone who’s close to you at all knows you’ve never been into those types of things. Ever.

“You know I hate surprises Minho,” you remind him, attempting to pry for more information. Even shooting him a doe eyed look along with poking out your bottom lip, but he doesn’t falter.

He simply nods, “I know but you’ll like this one, just have a little bit of faith me.” Flashing an innocent smile at you, he seems to be overly confident in whatever his plan consists of.

After almost half an hour passes the car finally comes to a stop, you scan the area and instantly notice a sense of familiarity among the place. Across from you was an ice cream parlor you thought didn’t exist anymore. But there it is, still standing with dozens of customers waiting in line. The small shop was famously known for its fish-shaped ice cream cones, you’ve always wanted to visit the place and try it when you were a little from seeing it on TV all the time. When you told Minho about it, you said how your parents would say it was too far but it actually closed down and they didn’t know how to tell you. From time to time you’d still think about that place, but you would’ve never thought they relocated. Being here with Minho brings an indescribable amount of happiness to your spirit.

“I mentioned this place like one time in passing, how’d you even remember?” You wonder in amazement, after all these years he still remembers something as minuscule as this.

“It may not have seemed like it but I paid attention to every little detail you told me ___, all it. Of course I know you don’t like surprises but how else would I have been able to take you here?” He sweetly expresses to you, not wanting to hold back anymore.

You wanted to cry right here, right now. All your emotions came crashing down at once and it’s hard to keep them concealed. A lot has changed within these years, things feel so different with him now, especially with how much he’s matured. You notice how he doesn’t act like the typical fuckboy in his early 20’s anymore, he’s much more interested in getting to know only person — that being you.

“I’ve rehearsed this in my head like a million times and I don’t think I’ll ever say it the right way I want but it’s time I start being as transparent as possible with you…” Minho takes a deep breath before continuing, “I’ve always liked you ___, from the start actually,” he keeps going, “I was just scared, of what I don’t know.. Commitment maybe?”

Slightly looking in another direction, your vision faintly blurs from tears welling up, “I- I honestly don’t know what to say..”

“Then don’t say anything at all, I don’t need you to. I may not know the first thing about how to love someone, but I want to learn all of it with you.” He feels all the remorse of leaving you alone for all these years, unable to process the pain you must’ve endured at him not getting into contact with you. “I’m so sorry ___. For everything, I’m going to make it all better I promise.”

Your eyes subconsciously flutter shut when he comes in contact with you. Connecting in perfect symmetry with your lips to sync together in motion. His gentle hands cupped your face delicately; his touch was so warm and inviting. Your fingers were deeply tangled in his brunette locks, relishing every minute as he tilts his head to capture more of you. He genuinely couldn’t believe he went this long without kissing these luscious lips again. His tongue grazed the bottom of your lip to subtly ask for entry and you comply. Dopamine floods both your senses like a series of fireworks going off, feeling intoxicated by each other’s taste. It was probably that vanilla bean chapstick you always wore— an old favorite of his and is still your go-to flavor of choice. He wanted to savor you in this moment for as long as he could, cherish the fact he has you in his hold again.

“Want to know something funny?” He asks out of nowhere, still smirking from that heated kiss that just happened seconds ago.

“Hm?”

“You’re the reason I ended up coming back here.” Minho states bluntly, no hesitation detected in his voice whatsoever.

You struggle to comprehend anything, overwhelmed by all his sudden confessions. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I never want to leave your side ever again ___. I’m staying here with you, I already made the biggest mistake of losing you once I can’t let the same thing happen twice.” He spoke tenderly from the bottom of his heart, it felt so genuine you couldn’t not believe him.

Going back to rewind time isn’t possible, but “do-over’s” are, and sometimes we’re able to get those second chances to make things right when we get them wrong the first time.

[End <3].

[midnightloversmusic]

I would absolutely love some hurt/comfort with poly!marauders. I struggle a lot with anxiety and shit, so if possible, maybe something to do with that? Thanks :)

Hiii i’m sorry this took so long for some reason every time I went to write this i’d blank but I finally got it finished and I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

—

Your Job made you want to throw up. Even now sitting in your car about to leave, just the thought of it was enough to get your heart racing and your mind whirling. You have wanted this job since you were a kid. Back then it all seemed mystical. A place that would be filled with unicorns and rainbows. Then you got to high-school and suddenly everyone was telling you wherever you work there would be an asshole boss and mean colleagues. Even when this was being hammered into your head, you held out hope. All the way through college you grasped onto that hope with unrelenting force.

Then you graduated and worked your way up to your dream job. You had worked your ass off in other words. Even with the jobs you had along the way, of course they were shitty, but you held out hope for once in your life and believed that this job would be better. It would be perfect.

God were you wrong.

Now when you come home from work you’re absolutely exhausted. Your new boss has worn you down by overworking you. But you’re new and still believe you have to prove yourself so you do it all with no complaint. Not to mention your colleagues, who seem to see you as a tool to do all of the work they don’t want to do. But in order to become friendly with them, you try to hand out as many favors as you can, while being swamped with work of your own. You are stressed thinking about the next day of work almost immediately as you set foot inside your house.

Your sweet, loving, caring boyfriends have noticed a change in your demeanor. Your shoulders are tighter, posture stiff, movements languid because your body is so exhausted. After work one day James came behind you as you were cooking and wrapped his arms around your torso. He had whispered softly in your ear asking if you were alright and if there was anything he can do. You brushed him off and said you were just tired and he doesn’t need to worry. He’s been sending you worried glances ever since. Sirius had been silently studying you. He knows body language more fluently than any form of speaking because of the environment he grew up in. He could see it in your stance, something was wrong. He didn’t want to beat around the bush so he just asked you what was bothering you. Over and over and over again. Each time you’d respond with an over exaggerated sigh, saying

“I’m just tired Siri. There is nothing to worry about.”

or you’d let out a stiff laugh and quip

“Is there something wrong with you you’re not saying? Why are you always so insistent on talking about me?”

You know it’s a low blow and he was only trying to help but you’re already on edge and you don’t want your boyfriends to know what’s going on because if they know you are sure to have a breakdown, and you do not have time for a breakdown right now.

Remus hasn’t said anything to you yet, but his actions definitely express worry. When you come home from work as soon as you have set your stuff down Remus is up making you a cup of tea. Or he’s sitting on the couch patting the seat next to him asking you if you’d like him to read to you, or watch your favorite movie, or binge the new season of your favorite TV show. Sometimes he’ll just come beside you a massage your shoulder and let out a disapproving hum at the tightness. Hell mummer under his breath as if he was talking to himself,

“Working my girl too hard”

So that’s why sitting in your car about to leave for work, your stomach is turning. The stress of impressing your boss, pleasing your fellow employees, and keeping your stress from the boys has become to much. There’s nothing you can do as you pull out of the driveway and repeat the mantra in your head saying don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry.

Later that day when you are pulling back into the driveway somehow your day has gotten worse. You had to pull over on the side of the road and flash your hazards because your eyes got too cloudy from the constant fall of tears streaming down your face. Everything was just too much. And the thing is you are a hard worker. You fought tooth and nail for this job. You want this job. You were supposed to love this job. Instead your overcome with waves of panic every-time you think about going into work. Every-time a colleague texts you and you hear the unmistakable ping you flinch. It’s been consuming your mind fully since the day you started and you broke down.

You don’t care about hiding it from the boys anymore. You just need a hug. You blindly reach for your car door, making note that James isn’t home yet, and all but fling yourself inside the house. You’re letting out gut wrenching sobs and you feel like you can’t breathe. You’re practically suffocating in your jacket and you need it off. Off off off off off. You repeat over and over in your mind, or maybe out loud you’re really not sure anymore, as your shaky hands fail again and again to reach your zipper. Sirius is the first to get to you. His heart practically stops at the sight.

“Love, what happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

He scans over your body. Checking if he can see any physical damage. When he decides there is no life-threatening wounds, at least that he can see, he jumps into action.

“Hey, hey, hey” he says,

The last ‘hey’ coming out more sternly than the others. You look up at him and your heart somehow shatters more. His face looks so caring and scared. You sob harder at the sight and continue to pull at the neck of your jacket.

“it’s okay, I got it. C’mon let’s walk over to the couch okay? Sh it’s okay, you’re okay”

As Sirius takes your zipper into his hands and urgently, but less harshly, zips it down he slowly pulls you to the couch. Remus emerges from the hallway and immediately goes still at the sight. He rushed to the kitchen to get a glass of water and comes back to help Siri pick up your broken pieces.

When you finally catch enough breath to sob out

“I just don’t know how i’m going to do it anymore!”

“Do what m’love?” Remus quietly questioned while stroking your hair,

“My job!” you practically shouted into Siri’s chest. “My boss is throwing me on every project and he knows it’s too much! He wants me to fail and I don’t want him to win so i’ve been doing it all. But the better I do the more he assigns and I can’t keep up with it anymore”

Both boys comforting you share a worried glanced at each-other. Having a silent conversation with their eyes. Just as Sirius opened his mouth to say something, the unmistakable sound of the door opening and James yelling out,

“The loves of my life, i’m home!”

Really James has immaculate humorous timing. When he realizes no one has answers he scans the room quickly before his eyes catch on you curled up in a ball practically on top of Sirius and Remus kneeling on the ground in front of you.

His face immediately falls.

“Baby, what happened?”

The utter concern in his voice and his caring expression made you let out another sob and re-explain the story and add in a few more details about how your coworkers have been treating you.

Once you’ve spilled your guts the boys concerned faces only worded causing you slight confusion. You just told them what’s wrong, they comforted you, now you should go back to normal.

Remus is the first to speak

“The next time you’re feeling anxious about anything, especially your job, just tell me, Sirius, or James and we can talk about it or try to take your mind off of it. It’s not good to be stressed all the time, especially when you aren’t telling anyone about it. A job should never make you this upset. I know you love it but I think you should have a serious conversation with your boss when your ready.”

Sirius adds in,

“I could help you write up a speech or I could just march right in there with you. But please come and see me when your feeling anxious, or shoot me a text while your at work”

“We love you and we want you to be happy and if this job isn’t making you happy, I say drop it and find one that makes you love it the way we love you.”

James mumbles as he wipes his thumbs under your eyes, taking away your tears.

[stars4gojo]

Invisible string

Dad!Gojo x Fem!reader // Young Megumi and Tsumiki mentioned at the end // fluff angst if you squint, found family trope // 1k words

(Not proofread pls don’t kill me for any spelling or grammar mistakes)

Megumi is yet again in another fight but refuses to open up about this one leaving you and Gojo confused and worried

One single thread of gold tied me to you

More of my work 🤍

You’re sitting in the teachers lounge at Jujutsu high alongside Shoko, who’s drinking her daily dose of caffeine while you go through your paperwork.

You pay no mind when Gojo flops on the couch next to you whining loudly to grab your attention. 

You ignore it the first time, you let it slide the second but now it’s the third time and you’re slowly losing your patience.

“You’re just really gonna leave me hanging like this?” Gojo asks raising his blindfold from one eye so he can see you clearly. 

You let out a deep sigh as you turn towards him giving him a deadpanned look. 

“I’m busy right now Satoru.” You replied as you went back to finishing up paperwork. 

“Too busy for me? Your strong, beautiful, handsome boyfriend?” Gojo asked and you could almost hear the pout forming on his lips. 

Shoko let out a little chuckle, “You sure he’s good mopping around like that?” She asked in amusement.

“Let him be, he’s probably gonna complain about Megumi again.” You replied as if you were used to his antics.

“Megumi..?” Shoko questioned as she pondered to herself you just shook your head in response with a smile tugging on your lips at your friend’s forgetfulness. 

“Ah! The Zenin child?” Shoko asked as she snapped her fingers and you only hummed in response.

“So Gojo what about the Zenin?” Shoko asked now turning her attention towards your sulky man child. 

“Well I’m glad you asked Shoko, unlike some people here.” Gojo replied, suddenly energetic - putting emphasis on the word some. 

“He has a great technique and potential but he’s just, so ugh what’s the word for it..” Gojo started as he thought about his word choices.

“Satoru if you’re here to complain to us about how you’re getting bullied by a 7 year old we don’t wanna hear about it.” You replied while a little chuckle escaped your mouth.

Gojo squinted his eyes at you as he continued, “Well you wouldn’t know how it feels! Cause as soon as you’re there he’s all rainbows and unicorns and suddenly wants to eat all of his vegetables and wants to brush his teeth on time.” He rolled his eyes.

You got up from your seat making way to the couch, holding his face in your hands.

“I’m sorry Toru.” You said as his eyes lit up. “Is there anything I can help with?” You added.

“You two make me sick” Shoko spoke under her breath as she got up making her way out of the room. 

“Megumi got in a fight again in school and he’s refusing to do any training today.” Gojo said with a sigh.

“He got into another WHAT?” Satoru i told you to contact me when this happens. Did you get called into school? God please help me if you told him to use cursed energy when he gets into fight again because I will NOT be holding back.” You spoke fast, clearly distressed.

“Relax y/n I spoke to the teacher and I did not tell him to tuck his thumb this time or use cursed energy.” He said and you could only sign in relief. 

“It’s just that he…he’s not sharing why he fought in the first place.” Gojo started speaking as his eyebrows scrunched up in confusion.

“Well usually, he says that they were bullies but this time his mouth his shut couldn’t even get him to open up during a froyo session.” Gojo added.

“So please just talk to him? You always seem to know what to say and he likes you more anyways.” Gojo asked and your heart melted a little at his sincerity. 

“Ok, I’ll pick him up from school tomorrow and I’ll speak to him. You don’t worry about it you big baby.” You replied as you pinched his cheeks. 

So, this is how you found yourself picking up Megumi from school and he was more than shocked to see you waving at exactly pickup time - Gojo almost always runs late or sends Ijichi to pick him up instead.

“Hi Megumi how was school.” You asked as he buckled his seatbelt.

“You’re not at work today?” Megumi asked as he put his eyebrows up in question.

“Well I wanted to talk to you Megumi, why’d you get into a fight yesterday hm?” You asked softly, being extra cautious.

“I told him not to tell you, I knew you’d be mad.” Megumi huffed out.

“Mad? Gumi I’m not mad at all i just wanna know why it happened so I can help you.” You replied looking at him through the rear-view mirror. 

“Well they were saying mean things.” He huffed again folding his arms to his chest. 

“Were they saying mean things to someone else? Or was it about you Megumi? You need to tell me so I can help you.” You asked gently.

“It was nothing you need to worry about.” Megumi harshly spoke back and you could only frown in response.

“I won’t be mad.” You added.

“They said mean things about me.” He replied after a minute of silence.

“What did they say Megumi?” You asked again.

“They said I don’t have a real dad or mom and that their moms tell them to not hang out with me cause you and Gojo are weird.” He said avoiding eye contact, embarrassed about getting worked up over something like this.

You gave him a tight lipped smile in response, not knowing where to start.

“You don’t have say anything I don’t have a mom or dad but it’s okay cause I’ve got you guys.” He said, almost murmuring as a light blush formed on his already rosy cheeks.

“You’re right Megumi, you don’t have a mom or dad but you have me and Gojo. You know we love you and Tsumiki a lot so next time someone says anything about you or our family you go straight to a teacher or tell me or Gojo and we will figure it out hm?” You asked turning around for a second to give him a reassuring smile as he nodded in response.

“Right, you do know that you owe Satoru an apology for yesterday? Skipping out on lessons and being mean to him.” You questioned while raising one eyebrow.

“Yeah yeah I’ll do that.” He spoke putting his head down in shame as you could only giggle.

To be fair those parents were not wrong, Gojo definitely gave everyone the wrong impression from his immature humour and Megumi’s dad did walk out on him but, that’s okay because your little, slightly dysfunctional family is now his home and forever. 

[londonfog-chan]

I Will Not Keep My Mouth Shut About this High School Romance Between Eddie Munson x Reader (Headcanons)

Why lord? Why are we not talking about this?

I’ve dated metalhead guys in the past, and believe in me when I say these fuckers move fast.

Eddie is no exception to this rule. He loves hard and quickly, especially if you’re into the same things he’s into as well.

I’m talking balls to the wall insanity like: the day won’t even be over and he’ll have already asked you out, kissed you, offered you weed, and secretly be planning the names of the four kids he wants with you.

Mans is delulu as fuck for you.

As much as he has his passions there’s just something about the fact that you actually gave the town freak unconditional love that makes him desperate. Corroded Coffin, Hellfire Club, he’d pick you over them any day if it meant he got to keep you.

Guarantee, you’ll already have gone all the way before the weekend is up of that first week of the relationship.

Cherry boy cherry boy cherry boy.

But he knows what he’s doing. It will have been awkward but the best part is now “Rainbow in the Dark” makes you feel all hot under the collar and “Shame on the Night” makes you laugh and reminds you of the awkward panic cleaning up after.

The epitome of live fast die young. He will throw his life away if you ask him to, so make sure you use your powers wisely.

At some point Eddie will ask you to run away with him. He doesn’t give a shit where, so long as it’s with you.

Shared interests are probably how the two of you met in the first place, especially if you’re like me and unable to beat the weird kid allegations. You drifted towards his club because you for whatever reason were an outcast too.

Eddie would probably crush on those who are conventionally pretty, popular, the epitome of the 80’s beauty standards. That’s just human nature. But with you… it’s so much more different.

You’re like his nerdy fantasies come to life, like the princesses he writes about in his campaigns that are a mix of dark, dangerous, able to hold their own and fight for him and with him. Think of if you will a sexy bombshell rotoscoped into those old metal music videos. Facing the world wearing only red lipstick and a cocksure expression.

He would get along so well with someone who wasn’t afraid to let their wild side show, or to express it. But at the same time if you’re more shy and reserved, he is determined to help you come out of that shell and be the best possible version of yourself.

It’s impossible not to match his excitable energy, it’s just so goddamn contagious. It might scare you how far you’re willing to go for Eddie and how quickly you might find yourself changing. Because believe me, you will change, and it will be for the better.

Eddie will always be your number one hype man.

He will literally be so excited about everything you do because it’s you! The person he loves more than anyone in this whole entire world.

Eddie will literally put up with so much for you. Even if you guys fight he will struggle to maintain his composure because he does not want to fuck this beautiful thing up.

Drives himself up the wall with anxiety about it too. But that’s the thing about Eddie’s dynamic with you: is that he will do what it takes to keep his fucking cool around you.

Your fights are infrequent but can get explosive if there are unsaid insecurities. So to avoid this: keep honest with him. About everything. Don’t lie to him, because as fast as he fell for you, lying is the quickest way to break his trust and send him packing.

One of his flaws in the relationship is that his insecurity that this will all go away will make him all that more prepared to leave if you have a massive blow up fight.

Like he’s already preplanned his exit strategy and everything.

But the longer you’re together, the more comfortable he gets and eventually he settles down from jumping the gun into taking things one day at a time.

He’s a fucking keeper. And all I’m gonna say is you better start training with swinging a blunt weapon because once you have him, you’re going to be right there in the Upside Down fucking up some monsters keeping them away from your man.

[struwberrii]

rainbows, sunshine ⋆˚✿˖°

pairing: gn!reader x sakusa kiyoomi

content: fluff, high school, no established relationship, no warnings really (unless you consider being awake before 8 am triggering)

also this is the first oneshot i’ve written in like 4 years, any constructive criticism or advice is greatly appreciated :)

you found yourself not being able to fall asleep. minutes turn into hours and before you know it, the time on your phone reads 6:45am.

you decided it would be pointless to go to sleep now so you got up and started to get yourself ready for class early.

you grab your bag and start walking to school as the sun is hardly high enough to light up the outdoors. you took in all the scenery around you, usually you aren’t awake this early. it’s peaceful and quiet out.

when you get to school the main building is closed for about another couple hour so you begin your journey to find a nice place to sit down and read. you settle on a bench outside the gym. by the time you’ve settled down on the bench you noticed the bench provided a perfect view of the sunrise. you didn’t even have time to pull out any of your books before you were interrupted by a masculine voice

“what are you doing here?” he says snapping you out of the trance the sunrise put you in

“i was just looking for a quiet place to sit” you said looking up at him.

he was wearing a tshirt and sports shorts, his hair was wet with what you assumed to be sweat yet he didn’t smell sweaty at all. the rising sunlight illuminated his pale skin just enough for you to see small beads of sweat sitting on his forehead in spots his hair didn’t cover.

“this is my bench” he said flatly.

you looked over at your bag preparing to pick it up until he stopped you with his words.

“scoot over” he said sitting next to you.

it was silent for a moment while you both watched the sunrise, until you decided to speak up and break it.

“so, are you here for volleyball practice?” you asked, even though the answer seemed pretty obvious.

“practice doesn’t start for another hour, i just come early to practice extra” he said cracking open a vending machine drink. “i also just like watching the sunrise, is that why you’re here?” he says looking over at you with a face you couldn’t exactly read.

“i guess so” you lied “are you okay?” he asks leaning forward to be in your field of view “you look like you just saw a ghost” he says with a hint of concern in his voice.

you finally admit to him that you didn’t get much sleep last night and only came in so early since you were awake already.

“wow, that’s rough. i bet you could get a nap in before classes start if you really wanted to though” he said before looking down on the floor next to him and picking up a second drink.

“here, i usually drink two of these but i don’t think ill finish them today, you look like you could use it more than me anyway”. he said cracking the seal of the drink for you so you could open it easier.

you thanked him and read the label of the drink before taking a sip.

“watching the sunset is pretty relaxing, i bet that would help you fall asleep”. he said before looking back up at the sky, the sun a little higher than it was before.

“now that you mention it i am feeling a little more tired than i was earlier” you let out a yawn and got a little more comfortable on the bench. before you knew it you were falling in and out of sleep zzz. you were so tired you found yourself laying your head on his shoulder. you quickly caught yourself and jumped up.

“i’m so sorry! i didn’t mean to-“ you began to apologize before he cut you off. he put his hand on the back of your head and pulled you back onto his shoulder

“it’s ok, just go to sleep while you can”. he said calmly “i have to shower after practice anyway” he mumbled after that. you chose to ignore his last comment as you quickly fell back asleep, missing the last few minutes of the sunrise.

after what felt like a few seconds, you opened your eyes to him lightly shaking your shoulder.

“hey, hey wake up, i have team practice in a second”. he said as you slowly sat up.

“oh, i’m sorry for falling asleep on you”

“it’s ok, i’m sakusa by the way”

he laughed a bit, realizing he let you sleep on him before you even knew each others names. you shared your name with him after.

he stood up to make his way back to the gym and looked back at you one last time.

“let’s meet here again soon”

a/n: bear with me guys. this is my first time writing anything other than headcanons since i was like 13 and in the midst of my delusion crazy haikyuu phase. im a little rusty since ive recently been brought back to earth so let me know if this is good or not, i know it could def use so work 😭

[touretticeddiemunson]

thinking about steddie with this video :(

Angst, Hurt/Comfort Ficlet underneath!

Eddie didn’t have much, but he knew the love of having a guardian that supported him so much. Upon Eddie’s move-in, Wayne didn’t even think twice about the situation, the boy, that landed Eddie here. All he cared about was for Eddie to have a hot meal, a bed, and a loving home.

Steve on the other hand, didn’t have what Eddie did. He couldn’t. In the way, there were his parents, who nagged him constantly over losing Nancy. His friends, who were always finding girls for Steve to make out with at their parties. At those parties, they saw him drunk and high. His guard was down, and it led his friends realize how his gaze lingered longer at boys. But he would always play the “Christ, was I drunk last night” game (“Christ, I was so drunk last night, I don’t remember a thing!”) the next day. He couldn’t let them see the inner workings of his stomach, clenching and fluttering when Tommy H’s arm would brush his own at the lunch table.

He had wanted to come out, he really had. He just couldn’t ever cross the threshold. Steve Harrington, ever the closet case, just couldn’t be like Eddie. He couldn’t afford to.

All of this was how they were having this argument now, red-faced in their pajamas in the kitchenette of their little apartment.

“All I said was that he just went a little overboard, that’s all. What’s so wrong with thinking it’s a little tacky to receive 5 assorted rainbow bandanas?” Eddie complained.

Steve was fuming. He knew Eddie didn’t mean any harm, but he didn’t understand.

“You don’t understand. How is it tacky to have someone that loves you gift you something so blatantly supportive of your identity, Eddie?” Steve argued.

“I’m not saying WAYNE is tacky, I’m saying the gift was.” Eddie shrugged.

“The gift. Really. That’s what you think this is about? A gift?” Steve let out a passive-aggressive laugh.

Eddie shrugged again. “Then what else would this be about?” He asked.

“It’s about how he supports you, and he loves you. And you’re calling him tacky for that.” Steve was getting closer to saying what he truly meant, all it took was for Eddie to set it off.

“Oh, come on, tell me what you’re really angry about, Steve.” Eddie pried, voice cold.

That was enough to make Steve snap like a goddamn twig.

“Fine. You really want to know why I’m so angry? It’s because you don’t appreciate what you fucking have. I grew up wondering why I felt so wrong, all the time. Dirty, even. The first time I told my father about a boy was the first time I got a black eye. I was seven, Eddie. Seven. My whole life was girls and sports and…bullshit. It was all bullshit, Eddie. I was bullshit.”

He was crying now, but he was too angry to care. “You have someone who loves you and wants to support you. I can’t believe you think that effort is tacky. I still dream of being hugged when I go home and show you off to my parents. I would kill to be gifted just one pride item from them, Eddie. I would. But they don’t love me enough for that. They don’t even love me enough to call anymore.”

“Steve…” Eddie breathed, tears in his eyes. Ashamed.

“Eddie, I love you. I really do. But you just don’t understand.”

“I know. I know I don’t. But I promise I’ll try. I’m sorry, I promise.” Eddie said, reaching forward and touching Steve’s cheek.

Steve sighed softly, his anger beginning to quell at the soft touch. “I don’t like fighting,” he murmured.

“Me neither. I’ll be more cautious with what I say from now on, okay? I don’t want you to think I don’t care about you. Because I do. You’ve come so far. And you’re so brave. I love you, Steve.” Eddie stroked his cheek softly.

“I love you too, Eddie.”

They had their bumps, but they were nothing they couldn’t get over together. They loved each other, and that was enough.

[nights-at-crystarium]

Fragments - episodes 36-40 author notes

You can find similar breakdown posts on older episodes in my pinned!

I didn’t need to spend so much screentime on Titania fight, yet it was a fun personal challenge. I’d never written/drawn a cohesive fight scene before. The scripted ingame instances don’t leave much room for imagination, I wanted to stay away from the fourth wall, and make up a more immersive scene. How do you even make it look mildly interesting? You’d think, well, characters will just flail at each other until one of them dies, right?

So yeah the biggest challenge was creating the ebb and flow. What affects Vivi’s actions? Why wouldn’t he just murder Titania like any other opponent, and be done with it? I threw in a generous amount of inner pov (that I previously used very sparingly) and some silly tricks. The stakes are high, yes, it’s a Lightwarden vs WoD encounter, but Titania still retains their playful personality above all else. Vivi's here just to do his job, but he also knows that he's dealing with a fae.

The msq makes Titania stand out among other wardens, I capitalized on that and hc’d that they’re important to Feo Ul, and, by proxy, to Vivi. That instantly provided some emotional stakes, and an answer to why he doesn’t rush to kill them out of the door.

Vivi enters the castle in episode 35, and mostly runs in circles, analyzing his enemy, and even falls victim to illusions. This could’ve been it for him, but I daresay it worried none of us because we’re just at the beginning of a story about this guy, he’s THE guy in this universe not for no reason, he’ll manage.

No deep meaning behind "grasshopper", I just thought it's a bizarrely precise descriptor of both Vivi's long legs and dragoon jumps, and it fits the natural theme of the fight.

Vivi didn’t go in unprepared.

This line will be relevant again in like, 5-7 years from now :’>

More under the cut~

He always, always doubts everything, especially when it comes to his level of power. Self-nerfing. A light (heh) case of an impostor syndrome.

Everyone loved the bonk for meme reasons, Vivi simply bought himself some time to cast.

The Rainbow Sparkles of Believing in Yourself! And of something else, perhaps. I’m planting quite a bit of stuff for future, this one should take a mere year or so to pay off.

I hope this pose’s enough of a hint that you shouldn't be taking episode 37 too seriously.

Yes, he used his spear to ~cast~. And took a sailormoon pose. This's his, monoclass dragoon’s, interpretation of what the caster magic’s probably like.

Offscreen, Titania comes to their senses and shrills “so you wanna play rough?!���, Vivi ignores them, concerned with only one thing: did he succeed? How did the test of his custom spell go?

It only worked out because the both of them are idiots.

I like to emphasize that Fragments isn’t about retelling the msq, or big epic battles, but here, where I actually put my heart into it, I feel like I managed to pull off at least one epic beat you’d typically see in an action-focused comic. Super proud of this panel ;w;

This’s a standard panel divider I’ve used multiple times before, but it couldn’t be more visually appropriate here :3c

So, to recap. Vivi asks Titania if they miss the night sky. They do. Vivi brings the night sky to them, and lo, something actually happens. I illustrated this “something” as one of their eyes getting sort of cleansed here. This story suddenly takes a mahou shoujo (shounen, heh) turn, I appreciate that it may cause some eyebrows to raise, but I think it’s okay to take creative liberties like this in a story themed around identity, agency, and believing in yourself. If Titania’s so strong as to retain a tiny bit of their old self, to cohesively partake in a simple convo, then why can’t they return, even if for a brief moment, given the proper assistance.

An appropriate reaction to the wild bs that’s going on. Imagine inventing the tale of WoD in the First, only to witness THIS.

As about Vivi, he can save a soul when he genuinely cares for it. We haven’t seen him do this before. He does it for Feo Ul explicitly, implicitly as a self-reflection. He’s projecting so hard after realizing that Titania looks like him. He wishes for them what he'd wish for himself: to rest, to be treated with care and consideration. They don't only look like him, they're also unfree, tortured by something. Empathy or not, this’s the kindest fight Vivi’s ever fought.

I’m iffy about the canon talents that come with the Echo. You can understand any sentient creature, okay. What happens when you speak, does the other party feel the difference between that soulspeak and their native tongue? Does it feel off? Does it offend? I incorporated my own misgivings into Vivi’s thoughts about his Echo. He doesn't use soulspeak here out of respect and concern that Titania might not react well to it, throwing the entire plan out of the window. Thus he memorized quite a bit of fae words before the fight. This’s his way to mark himself as one of their people, or at least to show that he truly cares.

STAY TUNED FOR EPISODE 41

Vivien Doubter Rell. Also yay first nod!

Embracing his new duty, and possibly giving Titania the hug they deserve.

Look HE’S OKAY. For now. I just thought the hiccup would be a cute way to acknowledge the terrible power he’s just absorbed. The canon cutscene moves on unblinking, but here’s different.

Bracing himself for confrontation. Things might go awry. Or might not. Vivi doesn't know. Worst case scenario: this’s the end of his sweet lil friendship with Feo Ul. Do they like him, or a Titania-lookalike in him?

“Oh bugger...” big pets come with big responsibilities, my dear Feo Ul.

Just to reinforce his fae-ness.

Vivi had full control in this fight. Analyzed the enemy, successfully tested some crazy tricks, managed to have a heart-to-heart that resulted in getting a permission to kill Titania not with violence, but with mercy. So much could’ve gone wrong, but just didn’t. Vivi’s used to this, even if he constantly doubts everything, this’s how it always goes. He’s being flung at tasks with abysmal odds, somehow he emerges victorious.

I just like this panel so much okay.

This arc may feel slow, but it gives depth to Vivi and Feo Ul's relationship, and seeing them together in later episodes will spark even more joy.

Even after a warm moment they’d just shared, Vivi’s still wary. I broke out an analysis of what external influence, pressure to change means to him, please read this post if you missed it. YEAH TAGS AS WELL.

His expression here is an attempt to downplay the anxiety and swing the odds in his favor. What if Feo Ul insists and throws a tantrum? What if he has to become Titania right now, and there’s no way around this? Let’s make puppy eyes just incase, maybe that helps.

One more personal fav panel. There’s SO MUCH in this look. They’re on a threshold, about to become something else on Vivi’s behalf. Because they love him so much. They’ve instantly become friends because they don’t want anything from each other, just the company. Feo Ul’s such a breath of fresh air for Vivi, a new hope in a new world, where he’s (comparatively) a nobody, where people still have the potential to love him for who he is as a person. This’s why our crimson pixie gets so much screentime.

Vivi really said XD

The next few episodes wrap up the Il Mheg arc, and focus on good vibes and celebration. ShB follows a rollercoaster formula where it makes you smile at something nice and sweet only to whack you in the face right after, and I’m trying to do the same :3c

As always, thanks for reading~

[writingsfromhome]

Things to Learn

Request: hiii idk if youve thought about this but what about a mean girl!yn and nerd!harry high school fic or something like that :))

A/N: it is what the request says, idk if this is exactly what you wanted but writing a mean girl!yn was different for me. I also wrote this from Harry’s third pov so that’s also different lol. Hope you enjoy it? Thanks for the req :) <3

Part 1 / 2 / 3 /

———————————————

Harry hated girls like her. Hate was a strong word, he knew that. And he used it still.

He eyes her again as she sits on the lunch table and talks animatedly to her friends about something shallow or irrelevant. He goes back to the sandwich he had for lunch.

“She’s out of your league mate,” Harry’s best friend tells him.

“What?”

“YN? You’re staring at her. She’s out of your league. Like so far that even if you climbed a mountain and looked over everything you wouldn’t be able to see-“

“I got it,” Harry didn’t like her. He knew she was well out of his league and he didn’t care. He had one more year of this shite called high school and then he was off to uni. His sister always told him high school labels didn’t follow you there. “I don’t even like her. I was just looking.”

His friend makes a noise, he didn’t believe him.

“I’m serious. Ms. Easton partnered us in history probably because she’s not doing well. I’ve got the highest grade. But she’s insufferable.”

“You’re insufferable,” his friend shoots back. “If I was partnered with her I’d be shooting my shot. Every chance.”

“I’d rather shoot myself,” Harry mutters. He had history next period and he wasn’t looking forward to it. Their class had booked the library for research period and that meant suffering through it with YN.

He’s first to arrive at the library and books a computer. They were researching the royal family, he didn’t know what angle the paper was going to be from but he would figure it out later. Alone. Because YN was always too busy not giving a shit.

The truth was, he just didn’t understand girls like YN. How they could be so shallow and rude for no reason, he didn’t think the world was rainbows and unicorns but it was decent to just be a little nicer. She was judgemental, loud, and of course attractive as hell. But her personality ruined any good looks in his opinion. So even though he was staring at lunch, he didn’t find her very attractive.

“I guess we’re sitting here,” speak of the devil. Surprisingly YN is here before the bell goes off. She sits in the seat next to Harry and her bag is thrown on the floor.

“Hi to you too,” Harry mutters. He ignores her, continuing to flip through his textbook for the correct chapter.

“Have we decided on a topic?”

Harry grits his teeth. I don’t know YN have we? Instead he says, “No.”

“Oh, well why not just do it on what’s going on right now?”

“Because it’s a history class,” Harry finally look at her. He remembers it was a little nerve wracking to do that when they were first partnered but now his annoyance triumphed any nerves.

“And?” She scrunches her brows. “Isn’t that the point?”

She had no idea what she was talking about. He shakes his head and goes back to his textbook.

“You don’t have to be such a nerd all the time you know that?” She continues.

Harry ignores her.

“Hello?” She snaps her fingers. Who did she think she was?

“Can we just work?” Harry couldn’t stand her.

The bell rings. YN picks up her phone in a huff and Harry goes back to Googling for their project.

***

Harry packs his bag with the books he needs as students rush past him to go home. His bag weighed a million pounds and he’s pretty sure it aged his back 40 years but it was either his grades or his back that suffered.

“Hey Harry,” a voice calls out to him as we heads out the door. He turns to it; Raina, one of YN’s friends. She twirls her blonde hair and tilts her head. “It is Harry right?”

“Uhm,” suddenly Harry’s throat was parched. Raina was gorgeous and gorgeous girls never spoke to him.

“You’re cute,” she gets up close and personal with Harry and everything in that big brain of his liquifies and slides away. “So I heard you’re giving my bestie a hard time.”

“Your-uh,” what was wrong with him? Focus!

“My bestie! YN?”

“Oh,” the name snaps him out. Was this a prank, why was Raina talking to him? “W-what?”

“I thought you were smart,” she tilts her head again, this time Harry understands it to be condescending. “Did you not understand the question?”

Harry hears a snicker from behind him. His heart drops, he knew what was happening yet he walked right into it.

“Harry’s really smart,” YN’s voice comes from behind. “So smart he can’t even talk to me. Like, I’ll bring down your IQ or something right?”

“I never said that,” Harry turns, back to the wall like he was in some sort of fight for his life and he had to cover all his angles.

“Then what’s your problem?” YN demands. Her friend takes a back seat, staring at him from behind YN’s shoulder.

“I didn’t say I had one,” Harry mumbles.

“What? Speak up!” With one hand on her hip, YN was the image of a mean girl. Harry’s gaze flickers up to her face and he realizes she was actually angry. At him. He looks away.

“You’re so pathetic,” she tells him. “You can barely look me in the eye when I’m talking to you but you think you’re a hot shot just cuz you get straight As. You can take your intellectual superiority and shove it up your ass.”

He was surprised to hear her say intellectual superiority, then he realizes the irony of thinking that.

“This guy bothering you?”

Great. Harry hitches his backback higher on his shoulders. One of YN’s soccer star boyfriends had joined. He looks Harry up and down with a condescending smirk.

“No, I got it.” YN says but her friend opens her big mouth.

“He thinks he’s the smartest person here, he treats YN like shite.”

“Really?” He turns to Harry and now is when Harry realizes he was deep in. There was no way out.

“I’m sorry,” he looks YN in the eye and only her. He had to make a quick exit, find a way out of this before these meatheads decided to defend YN’s honour or something like that.

“Too late for sorry,” Raina says. Another guy—Brett joins the crowd.

“What’s going on?” He asks.

“Nothing,” YN says while her eyes stay on Harry.

“Hey Harry! Mate! This guy helped me pass my maths last semester.”

“Yeah he’s a nerd,” the other guy says to Brett. “That’s the point.”

“Hey Brett,” Harry nods. He should go, he thinks. Make a move. Get out of this circle forming around him.

“He’s a dick to YN,” Raina reminds everyone. What was her issue? “And he’s always staring at her like a creep.”

YN turns to look at her friend. Raina widens her eyes and shrugs.

“What the fuck?” The other guy, Harry had no idea what his name was, steps closer to Harry. “Are you a fucking perv?”

Statistically, this guy with his brute force and reactivity was probably more likely to be a perv over the years than Harry. But Harry doesn’t think it’s a good time to say that.

“Anyway,” YN says and with that all eyes are on her. “Apology not accepted. I’m over this let’s go.”

She walks away from him, Raina eyes him and follows. Their friend gives Harry the stink eye and follows too. Brett’s left. He shrugs and finally leaves Harry alone.

Little by little the breath comes back to his lungs and with shaky steps Harry exits the building. Some students lingering in the hall stare as he goes, probably the audience to what almost went down. And this was why Harry hated YN.

***

Over the next week Harry tries to be less intellectually superior to YN and practices looking her in the eye. He doesn’t know why it was so hard.

And it surprises him when the words coming out of her mouth aren’t entirely superficial and basic. But she continues to verbally abuse and belittle him and Harry continues to take it, his ire growing more by the day.

Just on Tuesday, at lunch she’d sent one of her boyfriends to sit at his table where he threatened Harry. Harry’s friend had stared at his phone the whole time, traitor. And yesterday YN had listed for him all the ways he could improve his appearance during class.

“Your hair could use a nice trim,” she tells him. “And your glasses are so 1970s. Like not in a trendy way. And honestly Harry why do you wear clothes that are too big and too old. Like seriously…”

It was hard not to be a know-it-all when that’s what she wanted to spend her time talking about.

“My appearance isn’t really a priority for me,” Harry had said hoping to shut her up.

“It really should be. Hey,” she’d called out to a friend of hers in class. “Don’t you think Harry’s style is sad?”

“Him?” Her friend had asked, like she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to say it in front of him. Harry had burned with embarrassment. “Yeah I reckon he could use a makeover.”

“Yeah maybe then he’d get a girlfriend. Get his nose out of his books.”

They laughed and the sound was haunting. Harry stayed staring at his book, gritting his teeth. He’d never had a girlfriend, gone on two dates in his life. It didn’t usually bother him but somehow YN made it feel like an open wound.

On Thursday, they have another research period.

“And how are we doing here?” Ms. Easton leans down and balances on their table. Harry and YN opted for a table and books this period.

“Good,” YN sits up. “Just finishing our research.”

“Good,” Ms. Easton smiles. “Did you two decide on a topic?”

Harry doesn’t look but he can feel her rolling her eyes. “Yeah. Harry wanted to do the royal family and their war legacy.”

“Hm.”

Harry was sensitive to feedback. When you’re smart you don’t get a lot of criticism, and when you do, it’s a hard pill to swallow. That’s why he was so sensitive to the tone of his teacher’s voice. He looks up to her. Was it just him or did she look a bit disappointed.

“S’not a good topic?” Harry asks. YN glances at him.

“Well,” the teacher crosses an arm over her abdomen and waves the other hand. She was choosing her words. “I was hoping putting the two of you together would produce an interesting project. Something out of the ordinary.”

“Oh.” Harry feels his grade flash in front of his eyes. Well, not flash but plummet.

“Hmph,” YN says in satisfaction. “Well Harry here felt very strongly about the topic.”

“Okay,” Ms. Easton pursues her lips. “It is a good topic. I’m looking forward to hearing all about it at the end of the month!”

As soon as their teacher is out of hearing range YN turns to Harry.

“I told you so.”

With that, she gets out of her seat and walks away. Out of the library, swiping the hall pass on her way out.

Suddenly he was hot. Very hot. Harry could feel the sweat dampen his shirt and he pulls the collar away from his neck. His project was disappointing? He was doing something wrong?

He stumbles up and finds Ms. Easton.

“Yes Harry?” She addresses him when she’s done with the pair she’d been talking to.

“Um what you said,” Harry clears his throat. “About the project. And pairing me with YN. I don’t understand…should we change it?”

“Up to you two to decide!” She says vaguely. “I can’t pick your topics for you. And you should only change it if you think you have enough time.”

“But our topic is disappointing?” Harry didn’t understand why Ms. Easton would make those comments and not just tell them upfront what she wants.

“No not at all!” she guides Harry to a bookshelf where it’s quieter. “War is a classic topic. But it’s also a very…straightforward topic do you understand?”

Classic was good. Classic was timeless, is that not what she wanted!?

“Harry,” she chides when he continues staring at her. “Listen. You’re a bright kid. Really, proper smart. I know you’ll do amazing in your future regardless of what I say in this class.”

It was YN. There was a but coming and she was going to say something about YN.

“But I’ve had a few bright kids in my class before. The thing about history is it repeats and the pattern I see is that there’s a creative energy even in something like history that’s lost on big brains like yours. That’s why I paired you with YN. I thought you two would complement the way you think really well. I was hoping to see a new topic come out of it. That’s not to say your current topic isn’t fabulous. I think if you want to continue with it, I’m excited to learn more.”

Harry doesn’t have anything to say. Actually, he’s embarrassed. This whole time he thought being partnered with YN was because she was failing or doing horribly. When really it was because the teacher thought he could use some help. Intellectual superiority 100, Harry 0.

“You two are getting along right?” Ms. Easton probes.

“Yeah,” Harry lies.

“She’s letting you call the shots?” She asks casually.

“Ehm,” Harry wavers. He had taken the reigns immediately because he didn’t think she could handle them. He feels his face turn more pink.

“The great thing about this project is to collaborate. Throughout history some of the best things were brought from collaborating…”

Harry zones her out and looks back at their desk. YN is still not there. Maybe she was skipping. But he spots her bag, that wasn’t true.

“Oh I better go help out your classmate,” Ms. Easton points to where someone has their hand up. “You’re alright?”

“Yeah,” Harry shakes the funk off. Maybe he’ll listen to YN more now but they only had a week and a half and it would be crazy to change their topic now.

But as he sits in his seat and waits for YN to return, to collaborate with, he feels it again. The sinking feeling. Like something was his fault.

YN was the mean girl but he hasn’t been the most friendly either.

After another 10 minutes go by he gets out of his seat and grabs the second hall pass.

He spots around the toilets, moves through the halls, and makes his way back to a stairwell. There YN leans against a wall on her phone. She doesn’t look up as he walks down until he stands in front of her.

“Oh,” the glow of her phone moves off her face, muffled by her sweater. “I thought you were random.”

“Are you coming back?” Harry asks. Still, his eyes flit from her face to her neck, settling on the wall behind her.

“Why does it matter? You’re doing the project with or without me.”

His throat feels like it’s stuffed with cotton as he swallows. He should apologize. He should-

“Why are you so awkward for?” She demands. “Like. You’re smart and all but you’re kind of weird.”

Nevermind. He was so not apologizing.

“Hello? And then you go so quiet when I say anything direct. You can be smart as shite but you’re not making it anywhere if you can’t even talk to a girl without staring a hole into the space beside her.”

Harry’s mum always said to be himself. This was him, smart (nerdy—fine), quiet, awkward, and bookish. But it wasn’t easy to be this way when girls like YN existed. They were confident and loud, and she called him out like his sister did. But she was nothing like her. She was beautiful and she knew it. And she was rude, but maybe her mum told her to be herself too and this was it.

“What are you thinking?” She demands.

“What?” Harry asks in surprise.

“I want to know what the fuck you’re thinking in that big brain! You’re so awkward! Jeez!”

“I’m-I-why?”

“I don’t get you.” She gives him a once over. “So? What were you thinking?“

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

“Seriously I-“

“Tell me.”

“I…” Harry trails away. He turns away from her and walks to the other end of the stairwell, pivots, and stands a few feet in front of her. “I was just wondering if this is who you really are.”

“Me? How am I?” Eyes narrowed, she sounds both curious and defensive.

“Really?” Harry meets her eye. “You’ve got such an attitude, you’re rude and loud and pushy, and I don’t know why you don’t like me but you’re always so condescending so I was just wondering if that’s who you are. Like when your mum says to be yourself, is that who you chose?”

Her mouth drops, then it snaps shut and her arms cross over in defence.

“You know why I don’t like you?” She asks. “Because you’ve got an attitude. You’re rude and pushy and condescending to fuck. So let me ask you—is that who you are? Is that who mummy tucks into bed each night?”

Harry’s impressed how she’s turned it around on him. He doesn’t take it seriously until she breaks eye contact and looks away.

“If I listened to my mom’s advice, I would be a bloody doormat in this place. I’d be used and discarded like a wet wipe. I have to be rude and pushy. And don’t even get me started on boys like you, who call girls pushy just because they know what they want. I can’t afford to be who I am, like you can, because I don’t have the privilege of being a bloke.”

They have a stare-off, mostly Harry is just surprised at everything coming out of her mouth. She goes on.

“I know who you are Harry. I know you’ve got a mum and sister you’re close with. I’ve seen you around town. For someone with two women like that in your life you can look up to, you sure are a misogynistic prick.”

Harry’s left stunned. He didn’t think she ever noticed him let alone know him. He replays her words, her glimpse of vulnerability. If her words were an essay, there would be no red ink. It was hard for him to accept but she was right. From the start, when Ms. Easton paired them he made a million assumptions about her. That were all proven wrong. And Ms. Easton was right too: he was smart and good at being smart but maybe there was more than that.

“Now you’re quiet again!?” YN sounds defeated.

“No wait,” Harry speaks up before she leaves. “I’m sorry. Seriously.”

“Yeah whatever,” she rolls her eyes. “I’m over this.”

“Actually,” he steps in the same direction she does as she heads for the door. She stops in surprise. “Actually I am sorry. I was being intellectually superior. You’re smart too. I’m sorry.”

She looks at him warily, like he was going to laugh at her and tell her he was joking. When he doesn’t, when he maintains eye contact even though it kills him inside she backs away. Her face relaxes, like she’s accepted backing down. It was quite a sight for Harry, to see YN the Mean Girl who’s been making the last couple weeks hell for him, transform into something softer. Something that—he was still nervous to look at for too long, but one he could look at a little easier.

“I don’t want to write about the royal family and their fucking war legacy.”

Harry wasn’t expecting that.

“That’s basic as hell, I’m falling asleep just imagining us presenting it. It’s like buying drugstore when we can be buying Sephora.”

She squints at him, waiting for a rebuttle but he lets her have this one. After what Ms. Easton said, Harry was realizing that being smart didn’t mean you were right all the time. And he also had no idea what her example meant.

“Wow. Nothing?”

“No, I agree.” Harry smiles, a little embarrassed but wow. Her mouth splits into a grin and it changes her whole face. She’s suddenly younger, carefree, in that moment as Harry remembers how to breathe, he sees the person her mother tells her to be.

“What?” The staircase dims as she takes the smile back. “Are you going to go back to being mute.”

“No,” I was just admiring how beautiful you looked right now. Maybe you’re not who I thought you were. But you’re also way out of my league so now I have to act cool about it. “I just don’t know if we have time-“

“Stop.” She puts her hand up and walks towards him, back to the doors. “I’m going to come up with a pitch so good I’ll be picking your jaw off the floor and wiring it shut again. And…you can pitch your sad topic to me. The best one wins.”

“But we can just vote our own,” Harry points out the flaw in her plan, ignoring her threat.

“I think we’re both mature enough to hear each other out?” She opens the door back to the hall and Harry scrambles through it to keep up.

“I know I am,” Harry says it before he can think. Uh oh.

“You’re cheeky,” YN eyes him but she doesn’t look upset. Actually, she looks delighted. “Not just a quiet nerd hm?”

Harry shrugs, they had really been their stereotypes the last few weeks.

“So what you said before, you think I’m smart?”

“Well, yeah. I guess.” Harry felt uncomfortable now on the spot.

“So like you think I can be the future prime minister?”

“I…don’t know about that.” Harry side eyes her to notice she’s smiling. She was teasing him.

The bell rings out as they near the library.

“Talk to you tomorrow,” she says to him. She shoots him another smile and Harry tries to memorize it, second guessing he ever thought she was unattractive.

***

That Friday it’s like Harry and YN never had that conversation. She ignores him in the halls as usual, her friends sneer at him when they catch him looking their way. As much as Harry didn’t want to be disappointed, he was. Why did he think anything was going to be different?

But he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Her smile was a loop in his head any time his mind wanders. No wonder their whole grade was in love with her.

“You’re staring. Again.” Harry’s mate says at lunch. This time Harry looks away quickly, embarrassed. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” he says quickly. “She’s just been making my life hell since we partnered up.”

“Yeah I heard those guys roughened you up at lunch the other day.”

They didn’t. But they did aim a basketball around the net as Harry was walking by yesterday and it had hit him. His glasses had fallen off but luckily nothing broke.

“Just one more week,” Harry mutters. Earlier this week he was counting down the days. Now he wasn’t so sure.

When the bell rings signalling the end of lunch, Harry is surprised when YN falls in line with him to their class.

“Pitch ready?” She asks. She smelled amazing like flowers and tea. Focus.

“Yep,” Harry didn’t put much effort into it. He didn’t have the same passion he did before and he was curious what YN had.

They get the last 20 minutes of class to work on their project. YN sits behind Harry so he turns when their time starts.

“Me first,” YN brings out a binder. She pulls out a folded piece of paper that she hands. He opens it and glitter falls into his lap.

“Ugh!” Harry jumps up but despite that his crotch sparkles. “What is this?”

YN’s eyes are lit up and she hides her giggles behind her hand. Harry stares, turning pink. Why would she do that?

“I’m so-“ she covers her mouth again. “I’m sorry!” She’s shaking as she tries to stop laughing. It’s kind of contagious and Harry cracks a smile.

“My pants are covered in glitter,” he deadpans which send her head onto the table as she shakes with laughter.

“It was just supposed to lighten the mood ohmygod,” YN can barely finish her sentence.

That was it. Harry tries to pick up whatever glitter he can, using the paper (he realizes it was her pitch) as a dustpan. He taps her behind the shoulder and she jumps up to turn, in that moment he dumps the paper on her and sits back down in satisfaction.

“Now we’re even,” Harry tell her. Her mouth is open in shock.

“No!” She tries to dust it off but her crotch, that Harry glances at, is also shimmering. “We were even after I did that to you! This is! Oh my god.”

She stands over Harry, her eyes glancing at his pants. A snicker escapes. Then she’s back in her seat laughing.

“I have to say your pitch is not going well,” Harry reminds her.

“Oh my god,” she tried to get serious but she’s still grinning. Harry doesn’t mind.

“Should I go first?” He asks.

“No no I got this. Okay. The royal family and…their influence on food. Now before you think it’s stupid did you know the matriarch actually has a list of forbidden foods. And if we go back, and look at the countries they invaded we can see…” YN grows serious, but passionate, as she begins pitching the topic. And before anything just her passion alone convinces Harry they had to do this topic. “From land to table.”

“Okay.” Harry says.

“Okay? Like that was just okay?”

“No, I vote your topic.”

“Oh my god really?” She lights up and it’s blinding. Harry wanted to make her light up every chance he got. Focus.

“Yeah I think it’s interesting. And different. But we only have a week.”

“That’s okay!” YN opens her binder and pulls out another sheet. “I did a bunch of research. I couldn’t really sleep last night cuz of…anyway. So our library has all these books that can help. And we can spend the weekend catching up right? We can meet at the local library and work. So we’re caught up by Monday.”

Wow. She really thought this through.

“Isn’t that too nerdy for you?” Harry has to ask. Didn’t she have something cooler to do on the weekend.

“Oh my god,” she rolls her eyes. That was the YN he knew. “Just because I’m not a nerd doesn’t mean I don’t care about my grades. You should know my lowest grade has been 82 this year.”

Wow. Even though Harry never scored below 95 that was still impressive coming from her. Which it shouldn’t be, he reminds himself. She was smart—just in a different way.

“Okay let’s do it!” Harry was excited. He suddenly understood what Ms. Easton was trying to say, he was missing creativity.

“Yay!” She squeezes his arm and Harry’s never felt more aware of his arm in his life. YN notices him freezing and she pulls away. “Sorry. I didn’t give you my cooties did I?”

She was quick. But it was funny and Harry can’t help but let out a snort.

“Is that a laugh? Are you laughing at something I said about you?”

Harry shakes his head and turns in his seat but his face is stuck in the grin. YN continues to heckle him from behind but she’s interrupted by the bell.

“Give me your number,” she says as he packs up. “So we can coordinate tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah,” Harry pulls up his contacts and hands her his phone. “Just put yours in.”

“Okay, I’m texting myself too,” she types for a while and then hands it back. It’s only later when she texts him at the end of the day does he click her contact.

Future Prime Minister YN ❤️

The picture is one of her from below with a serious face on. When he squints he realizes she’s flipping him off. It’s funny, and Harry feels like he sees her now. Even though she couldn’t always be herself like he could, Harry now understood her enough to recognize the glimpses of herself she was giving him.

It’s destined that every nerd falls for the mean girl. Harry never believed that until now. As YN becomes more recognizable to him, his crush grows a little more. He had to nip this in the bud, he realizes. Because she would never feel the same way. In a million years. But maybe they could be friends. Maybe it was time for Harry to discover who he could be when he wasn’t spending all his time being nerdy. He had a lot to learn from her, he realizes. And the one thing he was good at was studying.

[valeriianz]

You are an obsession, you're my obsession Who do you want me to be to make you sleep with me?

“Hello, Hob,” a low, sultry, and achingly familiar voice speaks behind him, cutting through the heavy bass reverberating off the walls and straight through Hob’s chest, lighting him up.

Turning, Hob finds– who he’d been referring to as– his stranger behind him, close enough to reach out and touch. They’re in the middle of the dance floor, bodies packed and grinding all night, but somehow they’ve given them room now.

Hob was dreaming, he was aware of it almost immediately. He’s been thrown back into the 1980s, one of Hob’s favorite periods of the 20th century, and in a nightclub no less. The music loud enough to penetrate skin, feeling the twangy synth pop in his bones. Everyone around him dressed in every color of the rainbow, over accessorized in neon hoop earrings and bangles, leg warmers, windbreakers, and mesh patterns. 

Hob’s dreams often took him back in time, and he wondered what prompted this. Though as Hob often did in his dreams, instead of considering why, he simply indulged. The music wasn’t anything particular, perhaps nothing was actually playing and it was all in his head, but Hob had felt the push and pull of everyone around him and followed along like a buoy at sea.

And now, feeling drunk off the sticky sweet air in the room, Hob grins as he boldly steps into his stranger’s space and slips both arms around his middle, pulling so his skinny, pale, gorgeous friend is flush against him.

He’d been dancing with strangers all night, shadows with indeterminate faces, allowing them to trace patterns on his skin, grip his shoulders or tug on his shirt. Hob hadn’t been dancing or even hanging around loud bars or clubs in decades, maybe somewhere deep in his subconscious, he missed it. Missed the anonymity of it all, getting high off everyone else’s pleasure and succumbing to it. So it made sense, as Hob felt himself getting hot, his skin prickling, that his imagination would wander, drifting to his perfect stranger. The only constant in his life, and someone who frequented Hob’s dreams often, especially as their centennial meetings came around or passed.

Though this iteration of his friend appeared distinctly… solid. He was dressed in that long black coat and skinny jeans from their last meeting (where he’d apologized, apologized! And called Hob a friend), his black hair gently tousled as before.

Hob paid it no mind as his tongue finally became useful and spoke for him.

“Hello, stranger.” he tried his best to mimic his friend’s deep voice and giggled at himself, cataloging the twitch of amusement in his usual stony face.

“You were thinking about me.” He spoke again, choosing to not point out how Hob currently had his arms ensnared around him and swaying them back and forth. “In a place like this.”

His stranger cast his gaze about the room and Hob noticed, in the pulsing lights, his eyes were black, all the way to the sclera, not the crystal blue that Hob had become so acquainted with. It was startling, and as the strobe lights began to flicker, Hob watched his friend’s eyes shimmer as well, like stars dancing in the night sky.

“I’m always thinking about you,” Hob spoke, transfixed. He hadn’t meant to say that, but fuck it, this was a dream and he’d said and done much worse with his oldest friend, to this stranger, in the comfort of his own head. “Even if I don’t know your bloody name yet.”

Those piercing eyes focused back on Hob and he felt himself physically wobble, holding onto his friend now for support.

“Oh, I am aware.” Hob caught his breath at the genuine smile his friend gave him, much like the one in the New Inn just days ago. “But you do know my name, you must, in order to summon me like this.”

Hob huffed, impatient. His friend’s hands were still resolutely at his side, unmoving even as Hob squeezed and swayed with a little more force.

“Sure, Dream Stranger,” Hob’s arms eased up just enough to slot his hands against bony hips and pull, making him stagger forward. Hob smirked, elated at the absolute shock reflected in the man’s expression.

“Now get with the program,” Hob leaned in, touching his nose to his stranger’s, the slight gasp it caused going straight to Hob’s cock. “And put your hands on me.”

He didn’t pull away, which was good. This dream had been derailed long enough. And finally, finally Hob’s dream lifted his arms and surrounded Hob’s face in his hands.

Big hands, Hob realized as his entire body went still. Big fucking hands, with long fingers, cool to the touch, and slipping back into his hair. Hob felt like he’d been electrocuted, his face forced forward, pupils shaking as he met his stranger dead on, getting lost in the inky black atmosphere of his impalpable eyes.

“Ah,” Hob eloquently said, swallowing hard. “This is different.”

“Is it?” His stranger gave a smirk of his own, lips turning up sharp at the corners, like they could cut. “How do these dreams normally proceed?”

Slowly, like pieces fitting into a puzzle, understanding trickles in Hob’s brain and his eyes go wide, his heart stopping before kicking back up in double time.

“Oh, you’re– really here, aren’t you.” It’s not a question. Hob would feel more embarrassed about this if his ancient friend wasn’t holding him at eye level, scrutinizing in an obnoxiously amusing way.

“Yes.”

Hob wets his lips and doesn’t miss how the galaxy flicks down to watch the motion. “And your name is…”

“Dream.” His fingers tangle further into Hob’s hair, gripping it and causing Hob’s jaw to drop with a not-so-quiet groan.

He leans in close, cold lips brushing Hob’s jaw and making every hair stand on end. 

“I would appreciate it if you used it now, Hob Gadling.”

Hob’s eyes flutter shut, his fingers pressing on narrow hips hard enough to bruise. “Dream?”

“Mm…” Dream purrs, like a cat content, as he nuzzles his way up Hob’s neck to speak hotly in his ear. “Again.”

Hob gasps like the air has been ripped from him as Dream bites the top of his ear, sending a bolt of electricity down his spine and causing his hips to twitch involuntarily.

“Dream.” Hob tilts his head, exposing his neck as Dream’s lips drag along the stubble there, licking and nibbling as he goes. “Oh my god–”

“Again.” The demand is punctuated with one hand moving from Hob’s hair to his backside, groping roughly and setting Hob on fire as he feels the confined outline of Dream’s arousal press against his own straining erection.

“Fuck–” Hob releases Dream’s hips and holds onto his face instead, pulling it from his abused neck and forcing their mouths together.

The kiss is the most grounding Hob has ever felt, but also fleeting, delicate like a cloud. Hob holds on like Dream could vanish, melt into the floorboards or dissolve into a pile of sand– sand! God, Hob was an idiot.

Dream’s tongue invades Hob’s mouth like a cavalry, drowning Hob. Bites his bottom lip like a brand, a claim, drawing blood and making Hob shake with want. The dance floor suddenly becomes vacant, people vanishing, music filtering out like a volume knob had been turned down. Hob’s hands settle on Dream’s shoulders and push, walking them backwards until Dream’s back connects with a wall and Hob thrusts his entire body onto him. The impact forces a cough of surprise from Dream and Hob likes it, elated to elicit any kind of reaction from his friend.

“You make me crazy,” Hob bites out, pressing his own fingers against Dream’s throat and up into his silky soft hair, grabbing it and watching his friend to see how his eyes glint something hot and dangerous. “You know that?”

“Would you demonstrate it for me?” Dream’s lips curl, enticing and provoking, daring Hob to say yes. To take Dream apart and show him every fantasy he’s ever conjured up. To act on every impure thought Hob’s ever had, every fleeting glance or touch turned purposeful and laden with desire.

Hob would take Dream apart, if that’s what he wished. And here, in his dream, anything was possible, and Hob intended to keep him here as long as he could, letting Dream into his darkest whims and satisfactions. Perhaps he already knew, could feel it in Hob, the way Dream made him ache, the way he made him hunger. 

Slipping his fingers through Dream’s belt loops, Hob pulled as he rolled his hips, connecting their fronts and knocking his head back with the bolt of pleasure. Dream’s hands fisted into his shirt and held on as they met again and again.

“Hob–” Dream crooned, his mouth at his collarbone.

“Yes,” Hob finally answered, his head coming down to watch Dream, seduced by the exploding cosmos in his eyes. “I would show you everything.”

[stardust-sunset]

Curtis Parents hcs let’s goooooo

I don’t know why. But Mrs. Curtis was definitely a spring or summer baby.

Her name was Carolina but she went by Lina! Or CC. Me. Curtis called her CC when they got married

I like to think she was kind of a petite woman-she had the thickest hair imaginable. She was seriously beautiful (I mean…look at her kids)

She had this waist length, wavy, golden hair and these bright green eyes. She definitely had a more doe like look.

She used to love eye makeup. Mr Curtis used to call her Bambi because she looked so deer like sometimes with her eyes lol

She loved sundresses and bright colors and often wore a white dress with yellow flower prints on them. That was Pony’s favorite af least.

Mr. Curtis was definitely a load taller than her

He canonically looks like Darry-I’m imagining him to have these grey eyes-or maybe brown! Maybe even heterochromia honestly! One brown eye and one grey eye.

He used to be a shop class teacher at the high school! He had Darry in his class actually. He taught Darry how to start woodworking and the tips and tricks, hence why he roofs homes now. He feels like he’s with his father when we’ve he goes

Anyway

He was definitely bigger in build and looked SO scary but he was the goofiest man ever

Take Soda, put him on steroids and you have Mr. Curtis. He was def a favorite teacher and the school mourned when he died.

The two met on a blind date! Mrs. Curtis wore her yellow dress and that’s how they ended up finding each other

They’re interfaith! Mrs. Curtis was Jewish and Mr. Curtis was Catholic.

Their first date was to a fair and out for dinner. They go to fairs a lot, and they had their first kiss at the top of a ferris wheel I’m calling it

Mr. Curtis had a LOT of pet names for her.

He’d call her Daffodil a lot because she had one in her hair when they first met 😭🙏

Bless his heart

Neither of them had big families-Mrs. Curtis was raised in a modest house-she didn’t have much growing up but it taught her to be a hard worker

Mr Curtis was honestly the same-except he had it a lot worse

He didn’t get to eat often so whenever his family was eating he would say his stomach hurt at dinner all the time and would wait for everyone else to have their fill before saying he would “try to eat” (this was a plot to make sure everyone was fed before him)

Darry learned this from him tbh

Their wedding was suuuuuper fun tho-they both have big extended families and they were able to throw a really big ceremony for them

Mr. Curtis BAWLED when she walked down the aisle

She even had a daffodil in her hair

Nrs. Curtis got pregnant with Darey on their honeymoon. They were pretty young when they had him-they’d canonically be at least in their early 20s

They were so confused when Darry popped out with blue eyes 😭

It was her idea to name him Darrel too. She thought he looked just like him, even as a baby

Aftee him they wanted another baby (Mrs. Curtis got HORRID baby fever) and they had one-but unfortunately that baby didn’t make it.

Soda was a rainbow baby by default-they told him and he thought that meant he was born rainbow

She did NOT wanna name him Sodapop but Mr. Curtis was very persuasive

By the time Ponyboy came along she gave up and let him name him Ponyboy 😭

Mrs. Curtis worked as a kindergarten teacher! The kids called her Miss Sunshine a lot because of her hair and the bright colors she wore

She was super good at music! She used to do club performances when her and Mr. Curtis were dating (just singing and playing piano) and Mr. Curtis immediately fell in love with her

She taught Darry and Pony how to sing and play piano. Soda had n interest lol

She also loved nature! Mr. Curtis did too-he was like a big puppy who just constantly needed attention and to be outside lol

They went brid watching a lot too!

Mrs. Curtis had a super sweet and soft voice and Mr. Curtis had the thickest accent ever 😭

Mr. Curtis was a lot like Bandit from Bluey. That’s the best comparison I can make-he was super goofy and fun loving but he was always putting his kids before anything else

When the Curtis brothers buried their parents they put daffodils on both their graves. They can’t look at daffodils anymore without tearing up or crying

That’s all for now! Should I do a pt. 2?

[blumeblooms]

- > speak up ! || two - is this legal …

toge inumaki x reader

————————————————————————

“Wow. Are you serious? You thought you were hallucinating?? That’s hilarious, and sad- but mostly hilarious.” The blindfol- Gojo laughed at you as you deadpanned. How were you supposed to know?? And why did this man look so.. familiar ? You sworn you had seen him before, Wait… “Hey! Aren’t you the guy who got banned from the flower shop for drawing dicks on the wall???” You exclaim as Gojo smirks childishly and you really start to wonder why you’re here. Utahime had left about 10 minutes ago, leaving you with this guy.

“Aha yeah that was me! Man i’m so funny, but anyways. Let me put this simple for you. We, need you because you, Y/n L/n hold a technique that hasn’t been done in thousands of years! Crazy i know” Gojo says as he makes a mind blowing motion and spits everywhere making loud explosion noises, you visibly cringe as he fakes offense.

“You’ll train to get stronger, get paid, and have a place to stay. It’s not sunshine and rainbows, but i believe you have the ability to do it. So Y/n, what do you say?” Gojo says with a brow raised as you think for a second with eyebrows furrowed before speaking up.

“Okay wait first of all, why do you talk like a 6 year old trying to write poetry. Second… I’ll do it, and for the record, my life will always be sunshine and rainbows.” You say with a look as Gojo raises a brow before laughing. Wait.. was this even legal?

“You’re a bitch! I like you already, alright well now that that’s settled, i’ll show you your dorm and then you can meet some of the others, shall we?”

————————————————————————

————————————————————————

After seeing your new dorm area

“Alrighttt! So that’s pretty much it, if you have any questions ask me~! Your dorm is right next to Maki, who you’re about to meet! She’s a little standoffish at first, but don’t take offense, she’s just a little scary” Gojo says with a playful wink before he quite literally drags you across the halls and to a classroom. Looking at you with a grin before bursting open the second year classroom door. You look at him frazzled as you already regret your decision.

“Hello lovely students! Your super attractive amazing teacher Gojo is here! And drum roll please… we have a new student!! This is Y/n L/n, they just transferred today! Be nice, and have fun! I’ll see you in my office later Y/n” Gojo says before pushing you to the front of the classroom and leaving in a hurry. You stand there staring with wide eyes as you want to fall into a hole at how awkward this feels. Feeling the curious stares from your apparent new classmates.

“Um.. Hi.. I don’t really know what’s going on. Gojo really sucks at explaining but um, hope we can get along..?” You say clearing your throat awkward and quietly as you try to make things less uncomfortable. You glance at your classmates, the girl you assume to be Maki. A panda, a literal panda as you wonder if it’s a guy who’s just a furry, and then the last guy… Why does he also look familiar…? Do all white haired guys just look familiar to you?? But no.. you swear you’ve seen him before just… Oh my god.

“Wait, you! You’re the one who tried stealing flowers the other day!”

————————————————————————

————————————————————————

|| previous || masterlist || next

• summary - in where you meet a nice lady in a flower shop you volunteer at, just to find out you can defeat curses when you thought you were just hallucinating. you transfer to jujutsu high, and you see a guy with his face covered who tried to steal flowers the other day! you confront him and he stays silent, so you tell him to speak up, only for him to say… onigiri ingredients? whether you just quit or go on with this new lifestyle- well, that’s for fate to decide.

[random-autie-fangirl]

The idea of Frisk and Chara being opposites (and providing opposite choices)

You know, back when I wasn't really sure what to do with Frisk, trying to define them in opposition to Chara helped a lot.

If Chara is serious, then Frisk is silly

If Chara's a bit of an edgelord then Frisk is bubbly and cheerful. (Remember Frisk making a smiley face with the punchcards and Chara saying “happiness is fleeting” when you take them out.

If Chara is impatient and tries to be as efficient as possible, then Frisk is more willing to "waste time", having fun and hanging out with their new underground friends.

(It's easy to imagine some of what Frisk can do as almost deliberate antagonism, the Narrator is harsh and cold and snobby so Frisk starts having fun trying to rile them up. I mean why else would they start checking literally everything in sight when they know the Narrator’s so impatient lol)

If Chara is strict and bossy, Frisk is perhaps a little rebellious, a little contrarian, and employs the philosophy of "you can do whatever you want forever" even if it annoys spoilsports like Chara…especially if it annoys spoilsports like Chara.

If Chara tries to be formal and polite, calm and distant, perhaps has internalised the idea that "children should be seen and not heard" from the surface, then Frisk is more rowdy, teasing and loud, but undeniably warm and friendly.

If Chara is hypervigilant and perhaps a little cowardly (with the running away text), then Frisk is the stupidly fearless one.

If I’m right about Chara not really wanting to forgive him, then that means forgiving Asriel was always Frisk’s preferred choice.

If Chara is the academically gifted one and the teacher's pet(because of the wordiness), then Frisk struggles with school and is easily bored by it and thus spends schooltime goofing off and making trouble with Flowey (or coming up with ways to skip…with Flowey).

Chara’s a voracious reader but Frisk can’t read very well at all, and they certainly don’t enjoy it, they see anything longer than a paragraph or two and check out. Since I think that Chara is both pretty proud of both their role in the prophecy and their status as royalty (but keeping up their high self esteem is incredibly dependent on others validation lest they crash down to nothing), to me that means Frisk is much more naturally and stably self confident. …If Chara is easily embarrassed, and cares far too much about everyone seeing them as perfect then it's Frisk who is shameless, and doesn't care what others really think… which is why they can dance in public, and flirt with strangers, and dress like a human rainbow.

And we know that Chara apparently hated the power of determination and wanted to get rid of it "that power… that's the power you were trying to stop, isn't it?" and had a save file they never used, which probably means they could have reset after the buttercup plan and saved both themselves and Asriel and just…chose not to… But Frisk, on the other hand is the most determined child in the Underground and the only one not to eventually willingly give up against Asgore (since every human could reset)

It’s because of this that I can pretend those few moments of Frisk seemingly showing annoyance with our actions is actually Chara being annoyed with Frisk. Because Frisk chooses the soda that Chara describes as “sickly” and CHARA scrunches up their nose or Chara making Frisk drag their feet when Frisk WANTS to look at stuff in the creepy lab. It's probably Frisk telling Chara not to be such a scaredy cat in that moment.

So yeah…defined in opposition, it helps with characterization, and works as an alternative to player theory (even if that's canon now)

[tickle-minion]

The Photo Shoot

Pretty safe for work tickling story. Ended up a bit longer than I expected, but what can you do?

------

Ryan always knew he was going to make it big.  Ever since he was in high school he’d always gotten the lead parts in the school plays, and now that he was in university he was showing success in independent student productions.  Of course he didn’t make any money off of any of those, and tuition for his school was expensive, which meant he had to work and had thousands in student loans to look forward to once he was done.  He took this all in stride since he knew there was a pot of gold at the end of this very expensive rainbow.

One thing Ryan knew he needed if he was going to continue trying to be an actor was to get some professional pictures taken for auditions.  So far he’d gotten free head shots taken by photography students.  The problem is you get what you pay for, and some of the shots were clearly student work.

Luckily for Ryan, there were other photographers in town who were willing to work with students to get them some professional shots at a reduced rate.  After a few days of searching, Ryan came across a photographer named Jay.  He liked what he saw on Jay’s website (and liked his student discount even more) so he made an appointment to meet him.  The two met for a consultation and Ryan booked a time slot to come to Jay’s studio. 

On the day of the shoot, Jay brought several pairs of clothes to wear.  Something formal, something casual, some streetwear, etc.  When it came to the casual look, Jay instructed Ryan to take off his shoes and socks.

“Take them off?  Why?”

“Shows vulnerability.  Most people don’t show their feet at all, so it exposes a little bit more of you.”

Ryan wasn’t entirely convinced, but he still pulled off his shoes and socks and continued with the session.

It may have been his imagination, but Ryan felt that Jay kept glancing down at his bare feet.  It wasn’t super obvious, and as far as Ryan could tell his feet were never the focus of any shots, but Jay’s eyes kept trailing down to them.  Strange, yes, but Ryan didn’t want to cause a scene when he felt there was so much on the line.

Finally, with that last shot, they were done.

“Alright Ryan, that just about wraps it up.  I think we got some good shots, but it will take me a few days to go through and clean them up.”

“Wow, alright, thanks.  I’m looking forward to it.  Can’t wait to see how they turn out.”

Ryan started to put his socks back on.

“Hey, kid, before you go any further, I have a business proposition for you.  That is, if you’re looking to make a few bucks.”

Ryan stopped and looked over at the photographer.  Extra money was never a bad thing.

“I mean, money is money, I guess.  What are you looking for?  This isn’t something dirty, is it?  Because I’m not taking off my clothes.”

“Don’t worry, you’re already as undressed as you’d need to be.  I just want to make a little video to post on my website.”

Ryan’s eyes narrowed.

“I’ve seen your website.  You don’t have videos.”

The photographer gave a large toothy grin.

“Not that website, a different one.  Here, come and take a look.”

Jay motioned for Ryan to follow him to the back of the studio where he had a large computer setup.  Camera equipment and props were everywhere.

“Alright, just better not be anything too freaky.”

Ryan walked over to the far end of Jay’s studio on bare feet.  When he got to the computer he was shocked by what he saw on the screen.

“Are those guys getting… tickled?”

Jay nodded and scrolled down the page a bit, showing Ryan more videos.  Each one showed a young man (around Ryan’s age) being tickled.  Some were tied up, some had their feet in stocks, and some just had their ankles being held down.  Most were dressed like Ryan (which is to say fully dressed except for the shoes and socks), but others were in various states of undress.  No one looked naked, though.

“Yup.  Tickling sells well, you know.  Lots of guys, and hell, women too, love seeing guys getting tickled.  And it pays.”

Ryan’s ears perked up.

“People are willing to pay?”

“Oh sure.  People are willing to pay for these videos if the model is cute and ticklish enough.  And I have to say kid, you’re the exact type of guy they like to see.”

Ryan didn’t have much to say.  His eyes stayed glued to the screen.

“I’ll make you a deal.  You let me tickle you a little bit, just your feet so you don’t have to take anything else off, and not only will I not charge you for the shots, but I’ll actually give you a bit of what the video makes.  What do you say?”

Ryan wanted to say no right away, but he hesitated.  Not only would he get his shots for free, but he’d also get some cash for it, too?  It seemed too good to be true.

“I mean… alright.  I guess.  As long as this is just tickling.  I’m not doing anything else.”

“Alright, sounds good.  And don’t worry, all I do is tickle guys, nothing else.”

Jay explained what would happen: Ryan would lay face down on a couch in the studio, so no one could see his face, and hang his bare feet over the side of the couch.  Jay would sit on his legs and tickle his feet.  It sounded easy enough.  Ryan lay down, letting Jay move his body a little bit for the camera, and let himself relax (as much as he could).  Once he was in place, Jay set up the camera and started recording.

Ryan was laying down on his stomach, bare feet on the arm of the couch, when he felt Jay straddle his ankles.

“Alright folks, this is our new tickle toy Brad.  This is his first time with us, so let’s see how ticklish he is.”

Ryan (apparently going by the name Brad) tensed his whole body, waiting for whatever was supposed to come.  Suddenly, he felt one finger on his right sole.  It started up near his heel and trailed down towards his toes.  Ryan flexed and curled his foot at the light ticklish sensation.  No one had ever touched his feet (not that he could remember, anyways) so it was a strange feeling.  The finger repeated the same movement on his left sole.  This time Ryan wiggled a little bit under Jay, his foot waving side to side.

“Got some squirming going on it looks like.  Let’s try something a little more ticklish”

One finger, one at a time, on each sole was suddenly replaced with five fingers on each sole.  Those fingers dug into the insteps of his feet, scratching the soft sensitive skin there.  Ryan jumped (though stayed pinned down by Jay’s weight) and started to kick his feet.  

“Oh shit, what the fuck?!”

“Oh yeah, we got a ticklish one here.”

The fingers really worked their way in there, kneading the flesh of his feet.  Ryan kept trying to kick those tickling fingers away, but Jay’s grip was just too strong.  There was nothing that Ryan could do to make it stop.  He could, of course, always say stop, but then he’d have to pay for his headshots.  That was a huge motivation to stay here on the couch.

Several minutes after just assaulting the center of his feet, the hands started roaming over the real estate that was Ryan’s soft size 12 soles.  The fingers came up to Ryan’s heels and attacked.  Ryan jumped, and was suddenly barking out with laughter when Jay found an especially ticklish spot: the part of his sole right before his heel.  

“Oh, sounds like we got a live one here!”

“NOO!  PLEEEEASE!”

Fingers descended on that spot on each foot.  It wasn’t just fingers working their way into the foot, but now nails were scraping and scratching too.  The only thing Ryan’s over stimulated mind could think of was that this was like ringing a doorbell.  It was loud, it was intense, and it was beyond annoying that Jay found this spot that reduced him to a laughing mess.

“Holy crap is he sensitive right here.  How are you doing Brad?  Want me to stop?”

“Y-Y-YES PL-PL-PLEEEEASE!”

“No?  You’re all good?  Sounds great to me!”

“NOOO!”

Jay continued to exploit the sensitive spot, attacking viciously with his fingers.  Ryan was sure he was going to pass out when the tickling mercifully ended.

“Th-thank God…”

“He thought that was bad, wait till he gets a load of this…”

“Wait, what?!”

“Here comes the brush!”

Ryan’s entire body jolted when a broad hairbrush started attacking that same sensitive spot.  The brush moved violently back and forth with cruel abandon.  This was the worst feeling yet.  Ryan was in absolute hysterics, thrashing as much as he could, trying to buck Jay off his legs.  His feet kicked and squirmed to get away, one foot trying to cover the other for protection.  His face and throat were starting to get sore from the laughter.

“Oh yeah, we got him right here.”

Not even able to say anything, Ryan continued to cackle.  The brush alternated between feet, and each time it switched feet it was like the first time all over again.  Tears were starting to stream from his tightly shut eyes.  This was the first time he truly regretted his decision, and despite the promise of free shots and money, he found the urge to call out stop was right on the tip of his tongue.  He bit it back though, he wasn’t going to give up.

The tickling changed, and now the brush was going up and down his soles.  Again, Ryan tried curling his foot up to avoid the tickling, but Jay grabbed Ryan’s toes and flexed them back, stretching his sole out.  Jay’s grip was too strong and Ryan wasn’t able to escape.  He laughed and giggled, unable to stop as the brush scrubbed up and down his flexed sole.  People got off on this?  Ryan figured they must all be sadists.

“Let’s see how ticklish Brad’s toes are.”

The brush stopped for just a second (giving Ryan exactly one second of peace) before attacking the toes that Jay was holding back.  Oh god.  This was bad.  This was worse than the spot hear his heels.  This was like fire.  Ryan didn’t just laugh, he was screaming.  Tears were flowing so freely that he could taste them on his lips.  He wanted to yell stop, he wanted this tickling to end, but he couldn’t form the words.

Jay continued tickling those toes, holding them tightly, even as the feet started to become slick with sweat.  This of course made the brush slide and glide all the more easily.  The brush scrubbed the tips of the toes all the way down to the sensitive little gap under each toe.

The tickling continued for a few minutes until finally, mercifully, it stopped.

“There we go, that was Brad.  I think he did pretty well.  Let me know if you want to see more of this boy.”

Jay concluded by slapping both of Ryan’s sensitive soles, making him jump and squeak.

Jay got up off of Ryan and turned off the camera.

“There we go kid, that’s it.  You did good, I have to say, I think you’re going to be pretty popular.”

“Holy shit that was bad.  Like… holy shit.  You were torturing me.”

Jay laughed.

“That’s why they call it tickle torture.  People love it.”

Ryan didn’t want to stick around much longer.  He got up off the couch (his clothes were sticking to his body from all the sweat), put his shoes and socks back on (which was hard since his feet were so sensitive after the tickling), thanked Jay and left.

Several days later two things dropped in Ryan’s email.  The first was a set of edited photographs.  Ryan was happy to see that they looked professional and much better than any of the student work he’d had done so far.  The second was much more interesting.  It was an e-transfer for a couple of hundred dollars.

Ryan stared at the screen for a few minutes before he decided to call Jay.  

“Hello?”

“Hey man, It’s Ryan.  Thanks for the pictures, I just got them.  They’re really good”

“No worries, I’m happy you’re happy.”

“So… what was the money you sent?”

“I told you that you’d get a bit of the money from the tickle video.  It was pretty popular right off the bat, so that’s your share.”

“All that for just letting you tickle my feet?”

“Oh yeah.  And if you’re ever interested we could do it again.  You could maybe even make some more next time.”

“Like… how much more?”

“Depends on how far you’re willing to go.  There’s some bondage, there’s some upper body tickling, there’s even some foot worship and tickling that drives some people wild.  You interested?”

Ryan looked at the e-transfer again.

“Yeah, maybe.  Tell me more.”

[forpiratereasons]

meeting stede bonnet

a slow meandering through June. second prompt: trust!

day 1 | day 2 | day 3 | day 4 | day 5 | day 6 | day 7 | day 8 | day 9 | day 10

-

“Cough up, you lot,” Lucius said, sliding into the sticky booth at Spanish Jackie’s. “I was right, so that’s fifty each, thank you, I take small bills, large bills, piggy banks—”

“No way,” Oluwande snorted. “Nope, don’t believe it.”

“And yet, it’s true.” Lucius pressed a kiss to Pete’s cheek, stole a long sip of his frozen margarita. Strawberry. Pete had terrible taste; Lucius loved him.

“That’s not possible,” Roach cut in.

“Gotta say, lover, I don’t buy it either,” Frenchie agreed.

Lucius took a moment, preening, and then turned to Jim. “Jim, darling?”

Jim sighed. Rolled their eyes. And people said Lucius was dramatic—Jim went through life like they were starring as a very annoyed spy in their own biopic.

“It’s mostly true,” they said.

“It’s all the way true.”

“Mostly. Probably.”

“It’s very, definitely, extremely true.”

“It’s a little vague.” Jim waved a hand in the space between them. “It’s more like—he’s in the process.”

“But he is?” Oluwande asked. “Coming out?”

“Little rainbow pin, right there on his shirt yesterday,” Jim said, nodding. “He didn’t say anything, but I thought he was going to shit himself every time he had to come up to one of us. He had it on again today, with one of those stringy little rainbow friendship bracelets you can get in the park on Sundays.”

“Kept rolling and unrolling his sleeve,” Lucius added. “I think he sweat through his shirt, actually—he was wearing a different one after lunch.”

There was a pause as the group considered this.

“You know,” Frenchie said, after he’d tipped the remainder of his beer back, “I didn’t think Stede could even get nervous. He’s like, the most balls-to-the-walls guy I know.”

The group around the table murmured in agreement. Stede tended to recklessly throw himself into things, as if he’d forgotten they could go badly, but maybe that was why they largely tended to work out instead. Sometimes it looked like insane courage; sometimes it just looked a bit insane.

Mostly, it looked like someone desperately trying to make up for lost time.

So it’d been unnerving, really, to watch Stede flit anxiously through the shop, jittery in an old, familiar way that reminded Lucius of being twelve. Like he was trying to say something but was terrified that someone else might know.

Nevermind that Lucius had definitely already known Stede was gay as a pink flamingo—hence the fifty dollars everyone now owed him, thanks ever so.

“So what’d you say to him?” Pete asked.

“Nothing.” Lucius took another drink of the strawberry margarita; it was ghastly. “You didn’t see him, he was like a skittish little horse. I didn’t want to startle him.”

“Probably better to give him space.”

“You just don’t want him to cry on you, Jim,” Frenchie pointed out.

Jim shrugged. “I really do not, yeah.”

“I could talk to him,” Roach offered.

Pete reached a hand out for a high five. “We’ll go together.”

“Absolutely not,” Oluwande said, loud and stern.

“Nobody’s talking to him,” Lucius cut in over everyone. “No—no, do not give me the eyes, Pete, I’m serious. We’re not ambushing him on this, yeah?” Roach opened his mouth to argue; Lucius shook the margarita threateningly at him. “No. We’re going to let Stede come to us, yeah? We are all going to respect Stede’s boundaries, and when he’s ready we’re going to be chill about it so this bizarre little man has safe little gays to go to in his time of need.”

“Not sure you can describe us as safe little gays, babe,” Frenchie mused.

That was fair. Lucius soldiered on anyway.

“Think about when we were coming out, yeah? And how much better that would’ve been if we’d had people in our corner who were patient, who we could trust, who let us go at our own pace?”

Everyone thought. Jim, who would never volunteer anything in their life, still looked significantly at Olu in a jaw-droppingly sentimental thank-you-for-being-that-person sort of way. Frenchie leaned over and kissed Roach’s cheek.

“So it’s decided then,” Pete said, supportive to the end. Lucius loved him. “We’ll let him come to us.”

“When he’s ready.”

“And only when he’s ready.”

“That settles it, then. Cheers, m’queers,” Frenchie said, and everyone clinked their glasses over the table. “To trust!”

[adoremexxs]

Sweater Weather

Chapter 1

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.

.

Information!

This is a female reader so i’m sorry to everyone.

You are 17 about to turn 18, the Hantengu brothers are 18, Zohakuten is 16.

Everyone in here is 18 unless stated otherwise.

You are an only child, your parents are pretty well off but they are never home because of work.

Further on, there will be mentions of self harm, drinking, and extreme heavy topics so viewer discretion is advised.

You are very pretty and will have confidence because as you should tbh. A lot of guys (Kyojuro) like you.

Urogi is in basketball, soccer and track.

Sekido is on the football team, soccer, archery, honors and debate team. He’s avery studious.

Karaku is in every club known to man, football, soccer, track and is also in honors.

Aizetsu is in soccer, track and he does student council.

I def ain’t proof reading.

That’s all!

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.

.

You were nervous. This was your first day at your new high school. You played with your hair, the nerves really getting to you! New school, new life, new everything.

You decided to put on your alter ego for now until you were comfortable. Looking down at your schedule, you attempted to find your first class. You couldn’t find it.

You weren’t happy. You wore a frown on your face as you looked around only to see a pretty girl with pink and green hair in braids running towards you…Her outfit did very little to cover her up…

“Oh my God, hi! You must be new! I’m Mitsuri. It’s so nice to meet you. Oh my Gosh, what’s your name?!”

This girl was a bit annoying. You just smile, holding down onto your tongue.

“I’m (Y/N) (L/N). Yes, I’m new here. Your name is very pretty.”

“Aw! Aren’t you such a sweetheart!” Mitsuri grins before a short girl with purple hair tips joins her side.

“Who is this, Mitsuri?”

“Shinobu! This is (Y/N)!” You started to tune them out. They were loud and annoying and Mitsuri introduced you to Shinobu but she gave weird ass vibes so you ignored her. You let them look at your schedule while you just glanced around before your breath caught in your throat, seeing the most handsome man alive!

Tall, tan, long and dark hair with the prettiest yellow eyes and the most blinding smile on his face. Pretty long lashes, pointy little canines, the way he put himself out there was hypnotic. He gave off such good and attractive energy, no wonder why he had such a large group of friends around him!

“Hey, doll.” You were snapped out of your staring by some tall blonde looking bimbo. Long blonde hair, rainbow eyes, pretty face but not as pretty as the other dude. Who was actually looking at you! Holy fuck! Don’t have a panic attack! Oh my God!

“Uh, hey?” You gave the blonde bimbo a weird look, leaning towards Mitsuri and Shinobu.

“Why don’t you come back to my place tonight and we can-“

“Oh, shut up, Douma.” Shinobu spoke up, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. “You are the biggest man whore ever!”

“I’m not as bad as Karaku! Sorry, Urogi.” Douma flashes Urogi an apologetic look and Urogi seemed to have no thoughts behind those pretty eyes.

Urogi? Well, now the pretty boy has a name.

Urogi just smiles, “None taken, Douma. Karaku even knows his own reputation.” He looks back at you, deciding to finally talk to you.

“Why don’t you come party with us? Like, actually. Partying is a good way for new people to make friends.” He actually seems to want to help you make friends. “There’s a party tonight at Douma’s place, my brothers and I will be there. Oh, sorry, I didn’t ask you your name. I’m Urogi and you?” Urogi seems to ramble a lot…

“(Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N).” You didn’t care. He’s so handsome.

“She won’t be coming to your party, assholes.” Shinobu glares at the two.

Damn, okay. She has no right to act like that. Fuck you, Shinobu.

“Actually, I’ll go.” Your response makes Shinobu give you a look. Mitsuri was the only one not really judging you! Douma was smiling but Urogi’s face practically lit up so brightly.

“Okay! Cool! Nice to meet you, (Y/N). See you around!” He waves, dragging Douma away with him. You want Urogi to be your husband.

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Unfortunately, Shinobu and Mitsuri dragged you off to class that you had with them. They made you sit with some flame haired dude who was too damn loud. You noticed Urogi in your class. Actually, no, this wasn’t Urogi. He looked much meaner.

Everyone was forced to play an Icebreaker. They had to go around and say their names so you learned his name was Sekido. He was devilishly handsome. Oh boy. His features were sharp and narrow, the way his eyes flickered you up and down with that scowl on his lips. Sekido was handsome.

You asked Mitsuri about him since Shinobu would just glare at you whenever you tried to pry information out of them.

“Oh! Sekido Hantengu! Star quarterback, star soccer player, one of the smartest people in the school, can shoot a bow and arrow so well! He’s the oldest of the quadruplets.” Now you were confused.

“Quadruplets…?” You tilt your head and glance over at Sekido to see him already looking at you. The way he looked at you had you weak. He didn’t look exactly like Urogi. Red eyes, long sleeves, longer bangs. His features were different as well but hell, they look pretty damn similar.

“Yeah! Sekido, Urogi, Karaku and Aizetsu.” Mitsuri explains, “All quadruplets. Most handsome guys in this school.”

“You mean the biggest assholes? Remember what Karaku did to you?” Kyojuro opened his big fat mouth and it pissed you off. You just met Urogi but he was nice!

“Why don’t you shut up?” You glared at that ugly flame dude who looks shocked you spoke to him like that. Shinobu just seemed to glare at you more. You didn’t want to be their friends anyways.

You were also curious about what Karaku did to Mitsuri who just frowned, looking a bit sad. You were about to ask her until the bell rang. They said their goodbyes and you packed your things, getting ready to leave before you dropped them everywhere.

“Fuck…” You muttered, going to pick them up. Someone beat you to it. They held out your book towards you, the usual frown on their face.

“Sekido…”

“Take it. You’ll be late to your next class.” Those beautiful ruby eyes were avoiding eye contact with yours. You thin your lips, taking the book.

“Right, thank you.” You take it back, going to say something but once again, he beats you to it.

“Urogi told me you are going to the party,” He looked a bit sad, “Please avoid Douma. All he wants is sex.” Sekido didn’t give you a chance to even respond before walking off.

Well, damn! Okay then.

You had to go to your next class which was strength and conditioning. You had some smelly, white haired guy in there. He supposedly has three girlfriends from what Mitsuri told you. And his name was like Uzui? Tengen? You didn’t know and didn’t care.

You saw a sad-looking version of Urogi in your class. He had some pretty blue eyes. You wanted to talk to him. He noticed you first though and seemed to shy away.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” You whipped your head around to see Urogi walking towards you. You were so happy because you saw Kyojuro heading your way but stopped whenever Urogi basically tackled you.

He dragged you over to the sad-looking brother.

“This is Aizetsu! Aizetsu, this is (Y/N).”

You wave at him, “Hi.”

He seemed hesitant to even talk to you. “Hey…”

Urogi went to talk until the coach started to talk and made everyone warm up and stretch before they went into the weight room. You decided to work out with Aizetsu and Urogi because you didn’t know anyone else.

Plus you felt the most comfortable with them. Kyojuro scared you. You had to squat and Urogi went to get water for you so that left with Aizetsu to spot you.

It was awkward. Aizetsu had a straight view of your butt and it definitely made him flustered and try not to look because he doesn’t want to see like a perv! This is so awkward. He can’t do it. You were struggling to get the bar up. You regularly work out so for you to squat 235 really impressed Urogi and Aizetsu. You managed to get it up. You were panting and Urogi came back with your water.

“You’re so strong!” Urogi grins, showing off those perfect teeth while Aizetsu nods shyly.

“You’re incredibly strong.”

“Aw! Thank you!” You definitely were having your ego boosted.

Kyojuro came over with his big headed ass. You were instantly annoyed. “(Y/N). Not only are you gorgeous but also strong! What a beautiful thing! We should hang out more.”

“As if she would want to hang out with someone as pathetic as you.” Aizetsu stood there with his head tilted, that sad expression on his face. “You should leave her alone…Remember what happened last time?”

Seriously! What the hell happened last time?!

Kyojuro frowned, “I do. You should watch what you say.”

“Nah, you should watch what you say, Rengkou. You’re only the football captain because your daddy is the coach. If he wasn’t, Sekido and Karaku would instantly replace you.” Urogi was giggling. You felt left out. You wanted to know all the drama between these friend groups!

“I-…Uh.” Fireball couldn’t get a word out so he just glared at the two guys before dipping.

“Okay so like, tell me the drama.” You sit on the box, grinning up at Urogi and Aizetsu.

Aizetsu just frowns, “Sekido’s ex-girlfriend cheated on him with Kyojuro. Kyojuro was rude to him, Sekido kicked his ass. Then Karaku slept with Kyojuro’s best girl friend, Mitsuri, also Kyojuro’s ex and then like Kyojuro and Karaku fought and then Tengen jumped in so then we jumped in and it’s very confusing!” He sighs, sitting a little too close next to you.

“Yeah! Basically that!” Urogi smiles.

Damn! So they got some hella beef. This should be interesting.

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It wasn’t long before it was time for you to go home. And whenever you got home, you collapsed on your bed.

…

Time to get ready for the party, you guess!