#and seriously just ask me to tag something literally anything in any way you want ever and I'll do it immediately

[egg-emperor]

ya know while I do still love a lot of e for everyone series I liked as a kid and didn't stop just because I'm older and it's "embarrassing" or I'm "too old for it" or some bullshit, all my most active interests in the past few years has mostly been dark edgy shit except for the Sonic series which has always been my main interest and always will. this was my bro's observation of that when I was talking about other stuff I'm into that makes me sound insane lol

so I'm so used to seeing much darker and edgier and gorier stuff etc in games so when I share a dark evil Eggman concepts/fics/analysis that I feel are pretty damn tame in comparison to all that, I'm just genuinely surprised when some people will react to it like "wtf is wrong with you this is so disturbing you monster you shouldn't write this" and all that. and that's with the way that I take direct inspiration from canon itself and the evil that Eggman actually does there

I literally never realize that some people would think what I was writing was that extreme, compared to all the stuff I'm finding entertainment in with the other series I like. I just write what I see in the games with Eggman and what to share the thoughts and creations it inspires in me with y'all. and I always try to tag it and will always take suggestions for tagging too/appreciate when it's pointed out to me that I didn't tag correctly

but these bad faith assumptions and judgements of my character as someone who wants to upset people aren't true. I'm not edgy for attention or to upset people like a bully or troll, it's just genuinely how my mind works and my passion and I just wanna speak and create from the heart and put it out there lol. and I always find that really fun but people try to start drama instead of either resolving it privately and sensibly or just blocking and moving on without telling people I'm trying to upset people on purpose

so anyway the best game of all time would be a game starring Eggman where the whole purpose is to kill as many people as possible XD /j

[astonmartinii]

into the arms of another part two | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x reader

part two to this !! part three

yourusername

liked by arthurleclerc, maxverstappen1 and 661,230 others

yourusername: winner winner chicken dinner !! congrats maxy i’m so proud of you always

view all comments

user1: i know charles’ head is hot right now

user2: i hope netflix are taking notes cause this tea is steaming hot

maxverstappen1: thank you baby, helps when i have the prettiest cheerleader in the world

yourusername: i am the sexiest sargent in all of the orange army

maxverstappen1: too right you are

user3: i miss when y/n was the head of the tifosi the red monochromatic fits ate so hard

user4: i need charles to pull his head out of his ass and apologise so we can reclaim her before monza

user5: do not even bring up the fact we may not have custody of her for monza

danielricciardo: leave some for the rest of us maxy

yourusername: no actually i think it’s illegal for max not to win sorry

danielricciardo: will that change if charlie apologises?

yourusername: considering that hasn’t happened and doesn’t look to be happening any time soon - no.

user6: CHARLES PLEASE DO SOMETHING

user7: he doesn’t have to do anything, she’s just bitter cause she’s always been the bridesmaid and never the bride. we ALL know she’s always loved charles and she can’t handle that she’s not the centre of his attention it’s kinda pathetic

maxverstappen1: what made you think you know any of us enough to comment something like this? what told you that you even had a right to talk about y/n like that? she’s everything you could ever wish to be and more and she will never ever deserve the things you people are saying about her. charles would be lucky to have y/n in his life platonically or romantically but it’s his loss

user8: boyf of the year right here

user9: charles take note ^^^ this is how you’re meant to defend your best friend

landonorris: i am once again asking for photo credits i’m not gonna be your personal photographer for free

maxverstappen1: i literally paid for your dinner

yourusername: you’re literally a millionaire

landonorris: i don’t care a man still likes to be wined and dined

yourusername: just to make it clear we are not looking for a third

user10: i promise i can change your mind give me a chance

f1tea

liked by user11, user12 and 2,349 others

f1tea: charles leclerc caught liking this tweet about the situation between him and y/n. seems like he won’t back down on this. what do you think?

view all comments

user13: i need this mans head on a spike i’m so serious

user14: i want to play pinball with the single marble in his head

user15: i think ferrari have genuinely caused real head rot in him cause no way he thinks this is a serve

user16: let's be real charles' biggest rivals are ferrari and himself

user17: not this man at his BIG AGE is liking shady tweets about his best friend

user18: i think it's safe to say they're not best friends any more

user19: also "biggest rival" my ass max and charles are fucking friends now so this whole narrative is complete horse shit

user20: i'm so bored of charles playing the victim bro YOU ARE THE INSTIGATOR YOU ARE THE PROBLEM

user21: the way charles is liking shit like this but max is writing whole ass essays in the comments defending her

user22: and that''s why i'll always back that she ended up with the right man

user23: max is so far in the lead in the championship i need him to take charles out for the narrative

user24: are we in high school? like seriously this is so fucking petty i cannot wait for media day this weekend

user25: he's either gonna be the funniest man in the world or he's gonna bite someones fucking head off

user26: and i'll back it either way

user27: i know y/n is about to have her revenge dress moment in the paddock someone get kym illman ready STAT.

f1wagsupdates

liked by lilymunhe, carmenmundt and 4,530 others

tagged: yourusername

f1wagsupdates: REVENGE DRESS MOMENT !!! y/n y/ln enters the paddock in monza in this stunning black dress, showing the world what a catch she is, oh and that is max holding the umbrella for her, what a gentleman.

view all comments

user28: mother came to slay i cannot even

user29: this right after max came for charles in the press conference is PERFECTION + NO RED IN MONZA !!

user30: i see lily and carmen in the likes in knew they'd be on the right side

user31: girl i don't think anyone is on charles' side

user32: yall see the stink eye from the red bull garage when charles walked past they have y/n's back LOL

user33: the red bull garage been ride or dies for max so it defo makes sense that they would extend that to y/n

user34: christian was defo waiting for a question about it in the press conference

user35: someone on twitter got a clip of him putting his arm around fred going out of the paddock and telling him to get his driver under control

user36: yall are we on the kardashians what the fuck is going on

user37: people may hate christian but he defends his driver so much that he's inserting himself in the relationship drama

user38: i don't even follow f1 but whoever this is this serving oh my

user39: this is so exhausting like i need charles to just apologise so we can get cute y/n x max x charles content

user40: torturing myself thinking about how cute that dynamic could be

f1

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1 and 1,203,457 others

f1: max verstappen clinches his tenth win of the season at monza, joined by sergio perez and oscar piastri. home heroes charles leclerc and carlos sainz came together at turn one, awful showing for ferrari in monza

view all comments

user41: this narrative is so so poetic

user42: i feel bad for the tifosi at this point y'all get your hopes up every season

user43: charles you aimed the wrong way if you wanted to take max out

user44: the way max kissed y/n after winning god they're so cute

user45: also the way christian got everyone to move so y/n could get to the front to see max

user46: even marko looked happy about it what is going on?

user47: y'all we knew it was gonna be bad for ferrari y/n wasn't wearing red, call me superstitious but every time she's worn red charles has either won or been on the podium

user48: well that's just what he gets for not appreciating her

user49: as fernando would say KARMA

user50: someone check charles' blood pressure please

maxverstappen1

liked by christianhorner, yourusername and 1,304,662 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: winning on and off the track, some of you can't relate.

view all comments

user51: parents omg

danielricciardo: fighting words maxy, not pulling your punches

maxverstappen1: i do my fighting on the track, not my fault people can't get past turn one to give me a real battle

danielricciardo: i need to be inside your brain

maxverstappen1: no there's images of y/n in my brain that no other man will ever see

danielricciardo: you crack me up maxy

yourusername: woah who's that fine ass piece of woman

maxverstappen1: she's taken sorry

yourusername: that's a shame, i hope that man is taking care of her

maxverstappen1: i don't believe she's got any complaints

yourusername: wow you sound like a gentleman, she's a lucky woman

maxverstappen1: believe me i am the lucky one.

yourusername: awwww maxy you're literally the sweetest person in the world

user52: if i was charles and i saw this after that race you'd have to restrain me i'm so serious

user53: i'm happy for y/n and max but i need them to stop being happy in my face

alexalbon: ur welcome for that first picture btw

yourusername: lily taught you well

alexalbon: so no thanks?

yourusername: i joke thank you very much sir albon

user54: so like all of the twitch quartet are on y/n's side? awkward.

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, georgerussell63, 706,835 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: charles and i have been best friends since i knew what the word meant and it really hurts that is has gotten to this point. when charles got his first girlfriend i chalked it up to the excitement of the experience, but when he routinely got in and out of relationships and falling back on our friendship once scorned, i started to question what he really felt about our friendship. i overlooked it every time even when it made me doubt my worth and hoped our friendship meant more. however, the cycle continued and after being left stranded at a beach in a country i do not know i decided it was the end. i have reached out to you so, so many times and want nothing more than our friendship to work and so we can be life-long friends that we can tell our kids about. but i guess it's not worth that much to you and that's something i'll have to reconcile with. the only positive coming from this the fact that it pushed me to the love of my life, so thank you for that.

comments are turned off.

charles_leclerc

liked by joristrouche, pierregasly and 1,305,783 others

charles_leclerc: i've already got my trophy, sorry not sorry.

view all comments

user56: WHAT THE FUCK

user57: my brain is actually scrambled

user58: charles' must be as well cause no way he thought this was a good idea

landonorris: so this is a low blow

charles_leclerc: since when were you the reference point for morals

landonorris: damn dude, you're in the wrong but go off i guess

user59: why do i actually want to cry for y/n right now? she did this whole ass heartfelt post with no comments so people wouldn't be able to speculate and he replies with a pic of his gf's ASS

danielricciardo: not cool dude

charles_leclerc: i see you all took her side and our friendships mean fuck all

danielricciardo: kinda ironic you bring up respecting friendships

charles_leclerc: spare me the lecture

maxverstappen1: you're a child. but this is the closure she needs. cheers to being an asshole.

charles_leclerc: so you managed to get some of my sloppy seconds, you're welcome

maxverstappen1: she's not sloppy seconds and i can't believe you'd refer to her as that. but if you wanna talk sloppy seconds you can hold the 100 point gap between us in the championship. and y/n will never say this so i'll say it for her GO FUCK YOURSELF

user60: SHOTS FIRED

user61: men are so confusing

yourusername added to their story

[caption: taking some time for myself. thank you for your kind words and know i have an amazing support system around me now]

f1wagsupdates

liked by user65, user66 and 5,430 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

f1wagsupdates: charles leclerc spotted outside y/n y/ln's office with flowers this afternoon. idk at this point, any time i report on this man i lose more brain cells.

view all comments

user67: lol even wag page admins are done

f1wagsupdates: he gives me a lot of content but damn he needs to sort his head out

user68: lol this is gonna be an all time apology tour i can't wait

user69: i honestly don't want y/n to forgive him he doesn't deserve it.

user70: yeah max has proven ride or die for y/n so i know who she should stick with

user71: i need him to donate his brain to science cause in what world is a measly bouquet of flowers gonna cover all of this shit ?

user72: legit he's systematically ditched his best friend, let randomers on the internet drage her name through the mud and then liked it and then flaunted the fact that he didn't care about their friendship for everyone to see

maxverstappen1: lol nice try

user73: my petty king i love him so much

user74: i know y/n is taking a break from social media but i hope she knows how much love she's getting

user75: for real we're all on her side i hope she slammed that door in charles' face

user76: i hope that bouquet ended up in the bin

maxverstappen1 added to their story

[caption: special delivery for a special girl]

note: i know this was heavily requested so here it is!! i really like it and it's defo open for a third part if yall want charles and y/n to reconcile? thank you for reading xx

[imagining-in-the-margins]

CM Friends-with-Benefits Challenge

Hey everyone, I’m back with another monthly challenge! For the months of August AND September, I am formally challenging any willing writer to take a stab at writing fanfiction including friends with benefits/situationships using their choice of Criminal Minds characters! Reader, Original Character, Character/Characterships, Gen/Platonic fics are allowed! Please check out the Rules below the Keep Reading.

There are a LOT of prompts below the cut, so keep going!

(**This is NOT a request list for me—this is a prompt list of other writers! Feel free to request from someone else, and be sure to let them know about the challenge!)

🥰 Song Prompts 🥰

"Sex" by The 1975

"Too Sweet" by Hozier

"dress" by Taylor Swift

"august" by Taylor Swift

"Casual" by Chappell Roan

"Dinner & Diatribes" by Hozier

"Close to You" by Gracie Abrams

���Stuck in the Middle” by Tai Verdes

"Good Luck, Babe!" by Chappell Roan

"I Wanna Be Yours" by Arctic Monkeys

“Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High?” by Arctic Monkeys

💌 Dialogue Prompts 💌

“I’m just in it for the snacks.”

“No wonder you’re single…” (joking?)

“So... what’s the stance on cuddling?”

"You deserve something real. I want us to be real.”

“We’re just friends with benefits.” // “Right, and the benefit is being madly in love.” (sarcasm?)

“We’re… friends. With benefits.” // “Without sex? What’s the benefit?” // “My delightful company, asshole.”

"I'm your boyfriend without the benefits." // "Do you want the benefits?" // "Yes—No... I'm your fluffer!" ('New Girl')

“What is up with those two lately?” // “They’re sleeping together.” // “Yeah, right. Imagine… wait, seriously?”

General & NSFW Prompts Below!

🌹 General Prompts 🌹

Someone figures out the situation. A and B try to figure out how.

A is blindsided by jealousy when someone shows an interest in B.

A and B try to be normal so no one knows. Literally everyone knows.

A is so worried about B falling for them that A fails to realize A already fell for B.

A realizes they are happier with B than any actual significant other they’ve had.

A is totally B’s type, which has never worked out before. As a result, A keeps sabotaging things.

A agrees to a situationship with B because they think it's the only way they'll be able to have them.

A reaches out to B for a hookup but gets rejected, and they each struggle with their disappointment.

A is treating the arrangement like a formal business deal. B gets tired of it and shuts them up with a kiss.

A and B used to be friends with benefits. When they meet again later, the arrangement is still appealing.

A has to leave town for a long time. They have one last night with B but don’t tell them. They’re gone in the morning and leave B wondering what they wanted to say the night before.

Anything else you can think of!

💋 NSFW Prompts 💋

A completely defies B’s expectations of what they’re like in bed.

A and B decide to hook up one last time (or maybe not the last...)

A agreed to take B’s virginity as long as B didn’t catch feelings. It seems like B didn’t. A did, though.

A and B's no-judgment rule means they're finally comfortable to ask for what they've always wanted to try in bed.

A is annoyed with B, so they start loudly complaining/joking about their situationship. Angry/playful sex ensues.

A and B have never felt truly satisfied in bed until there were no strings attached... it definitely wasn't because of finding the right partner.

The fic can be a Reader insert, an Original Character, a character/character ship, a platonic ship, or a Gen fic. It can feature any Criminal Minds character. AUs and crossovers are more than welcome.

Tag me in the fic, or send the link to me in a Direct Message. It can be already written, or you can write it for the challenge - I’m collecting both! You can also tag it “#mentioningmargins” which is a tag I track.

The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I DO NOT WANT smut written by minors. Ever. At all. I will check.Platonic ships and pure, fluffy fics are 100% allowed.

Please include Content Warnings and a one-sentence Summary of the fic in your post.

Have fun!

The Masterlist of fics will be posted around Sept. 30. If you finish after that, no problem - just send me the fic once you’re done and I’ll add it after-the-fact!

Feel free to message me if you want help developing a plot, have any questions, or just want to gush about your fic. I’m happy to help, and I’m happy you’re here ❤️

Happy Writing!

[suzukiblu]

NaNoWriMo fic, day one: obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

Tim Drake had absolutely no intentions of ever becoming anyone's sugar daddy when he met Superboy.

This would have worked out better for him if Superboy had ever had an actual legal identity or an actual legal guardian or just . . . literally anything whatsoever in life. Ever. At all.

Just a bank account, even.

"You're working for Cadmus," Tim says slowly. "Cadmus, as in the lab that stole Superman's body and cloned him without his consent. Cadmus, which you had to break out of so they couldn't put mind control code words in your head."

"Yeah," Superboy replies like that's not literally insane. Tim stares at him.

"Why?" he asks incredulously.

"Food and shelter?" Superboy shrugs. "And I mean, I dunno, where else am I gonna go?"

Tim is not okay with this situation.

"What did Superman say?" he says.

"Just to like, keep an eye on things," Superboy says with another shrug. "Make sure they're not up to anything shifty."

Tim stares at him.

"Superman," he says. "Told you to just . . . 'keep an eye on' the dubiously ethical cloning lab. The specific dubiously ethical cloning lab that tried to put mind control code words in your head. Specifically."

"Yeah," Superboy confirms.

Alright, Tim is actually even less okay with this situation than he thought, apparently. Like, impressively less.

"Okay," he says. It is absolutely no kind of okay in any way whatsoever, of course, but he doesn't want to put Superboy on the defensive. That'd make effectively interrogating him a lot harder, for one thing. Cooperative subjects are best in these situations. "What are they paying you?"

"I mean, like, they gave me my own room and they're feeding me and whatever, so I don't really need much money," Superboy says. "There's a discretionary fund I can use if I need to go on an undercover mission or anything like that? But I'm not really the undercover type anyway."

"Sure," Tim says. So . . . no way for Superboy to save up to move out and get an out-of-lab life, then. Great. That's not fucked-up or crazy or horrible at all. "Do you like it there?"

"It's okay," Superboy says, shrugging again. "Better than literally everybody in Hawaii yelling at me every time they see my face, yeah?"

Tim wants to set the world on fire, but he's trying really hard not to go supervillain before he's thirty and he'd hate to throw out all that hard work.

"They just let me do whatever, mostly," Superboy adds. "They don't really care as long as I'm around when they need me."

He'll go supervillain as soon as Bruce dies, Tim promises himself. Just–he'll give his share of the eulogy at the funeral and then he'll blow up three-fourths of Arkham and the entire GCPD while Commissioner Gordon is on his lunch break. He can time that out, that'll be easy. And then he'll go and personally murder the Joker with the very specific combination of a rusty crowbar and a shrapnel bomb, and then he'll just . . . well, he'll just go with the flow from there, he figures. Do whatever feels natural.

Seriously, the world as it is does not deserve to exist. It really just does not.

Tim figures he can probably convince the rest of Young Justice to tag along for the whole supervillain thing and hopefully Dick and Steph and Barbara too, and ideally also Alfred, in the unfortunately likely event that he outlives Bruce. He's got time to lay the groundwork with them all and all, and also everything really is awful and horrible and really does deserve to burn.

"Are they sending you to school or anything? Or tutoring you?" Tim asks with what little scraps of hope he has left. Higher education would be . . . well, something, at least. And actually it probably wouldn't hurt for Superboy to learn a bit more about genetic engineering from the same place he got genetically engineered, just in case anything goes wrong with his DNA again. Cadmus should at least be good for that much, right?

"Ew, no, thank fuck," Superboy says, making a face. "Like I said, they mostly let me do whatever until something needs punched."

So . . . no furthered education or learning any usable job skills or making real money or literally anything that could, again, lead to Superboy ever getting any kind of an actual out-of-lab life established.

Great.

Just great.

"I see," Tim says.

"It's a pretty sweet gig, considering," Superboy says, and grins brightly at him. It's a very nice grin. Normally being faced with that particular grin would make Tim need to beat down the highly unprofessional urge to kiss it.

Right now, though, he's a little bit more concerned with the fact that his teammate is just . . . living in and working for a fucking lab. As a matter of course. Just as a thing.

And Superman of all people thinks that's . . . fine, for some reason? Like, normal and ethical and okay? Somehow? In some way?

What the actual fuck, Tim thinks to himself.

"You said Superman told you to keep an eye on things?" he asks.

"Yeah," Superboy says, his grin widening. "He took me to his fortress and asked me to do it there. Showed me around a bit, too."

"That sounds really interesting," Tim says, wondering in vague disbelief if that means Superman had never taken Superboy to the Fortress of Solitude before. He must've, right? And just . . . inexplicably not shown Superboy around then.

Yeah. Sure.

"It was awesome!" Superboy says with more enthusiasm than Tim's seen from him since they met Nina Dowd's . . . endowments, seemingly forgetting the need to be "cool" for long enough to lean forward in his seat and outright beam at him. Tim is gonna need a minute to recover from the sight of that expression, probably. "It's seriously freaking freezing up there, but there's so much cool shit in the place. Like, from all over the universe, but from Krypton, even! The only thing I'd ever seen from Krypton before was kryptonite!"

Tim considers moving up his supervillain timeline after all. Like. Just possibly. Just a little.

Maybe he can convince Bruce to take an early retirement off-planet and just go from there.

What the hell is wrong with Superman?

"Oh, wow, really?" Tim says, simultaneously pretending he didn't already know what Superman has in his fortress and trying not to be screamingly obvious about the internal calculations he's running on figuring out how to weaponize red sunlight. Or like, maybe he could look into learning some magic. That's technically an option. Probably more time-consuming and harder to hide the process of, though. Still, it's on the table.

"Yeah. He showed me some of it. Told me some stories and stuff, even," Superboy says, and that excited grin turns just a little bit shy and soft and somehow even more distracting than usual. He ducks his head just a little, and then that soft grin is more like a soft smile, and Tim suffers. "And I, uh–and he gave me something, too."

"What did he give you?" Tim asks, praying to God that the answer is "an emergency contact number" or "an allowance that can cover a semi-decent Metropolis apartment" or "an offer to live literally anywhere but Cadmus, including in the thirtieth century or on a hostile alien planet or inside an active volcano". He's technically an atheist, so the praying thing is probably moot, but times of desperation are times of desperation.

"A name," Superboy says, and his smile widens helplessly. "Like, you know, a real one."

Tim might hate Superman, he thinks. That might actually be a thing now.

Yeah, he's definitely going supervillain after Bruce dies and doesn't need an emotional support sidekick anymore. Better start stocking up on the kryptonite.

"That's great," he says with a very carefully not-forced smile of his own instead of anything more along the lines of "wait, you've been alive and active as a superhero for all this time and no one ever actually named you?!" Superboy would probably take it the wrong way, not in the least because that genuinely never actually occurred to him as being a thing before. Like–he really did just assume Superboy was keeping a lid on whatever his real name was for personal reasons or Superman reasons or something. "Are you allowed to tell me it, or is that a no-go?"

"Oh, yeah," Superboy says with a sheepish laugh, rubbing at his arm. "It's like, a Kryptonian name? Not like a secret identity one. It's, uh, Kon-El."

Of course it's not even a damn secret identity, Tim thinks in absolute frustration and abject loathing. Of course not! Why would it be?! Fuck forbid!

"I like it," he says, because he lies to Batman and therefore there is no fucking way that he's going to let Superboy–Kon–see any sign whatsoever of the metaphorical 9.9 on the Richter scale that is currently happening in his psyche. "It suits you."

"You think?" Kon grins all the wider. Tim can't even calm down enough to want to kiss him, except in the sense that he always wants to kiss him.

"I do," he says, and smiles at him again.

Kon smiles back.

Tim hates everything. All the things. There is nothing that Tim doesn't hate right now, except maybe Alfred's snickerdoodles because he might be having a nervous breakdown but he's not, like, criminally insane or whatever.

Yet.

"Yeah, it's kinda cool," Kon says, straightening up in his seat and then leaning back, clearing his throat and slipping his sunglasses back on like they're not in a literal cave right now. Tim doesn't call him on it, because he has a supervillain timeline to work out and that's much more important.

Also because the teammate he has an inadvisable crush on is in a much, much shittier situation than he ever realized and he has to reconcile that with his worldview and also his opinion of Superman. Tim doesn't especially idolize the man except in the sense of knowing he's one of the greatest heroes on Earth and a very, very good man that Bruce thinks incredibly highly of, one of the best men on the League and maybe even on the planet, but . . .

But if he's such a good man, then why the hell is Kon living in a lab that tried to mind-control him and why has he only just seen the Fortress of Solitude for the first time?

Why didn't he have a real name?

"So do we call you Kon or Kon-El now?" Tim asks, which is a bit of a senseless question but also at least a bit of a distraction. He wants to say this whole situation is a horrible idea, who the FUCK convinced you this situation was a good idea?!, but there is no possible way that Kon would respond well to that. Ever.

Also, Kon had a point. Where else is he gonna go?

Clearly not the Fortress of Solitude.

Seriously, would it be that hard for Superman to give him a room there? At least a place to stay sometimes, so he wasn't exclusively relying on the mind-control cloning lab for food and shelter and basic comforts?

"I think just Kon?" Kon says, frowning consideringly. "'El' is like Superman's last name, I guess? So I think just Kon."

"Makes sense," Tim says, internally seething. Superman gave him the "El" name but not a secret identity? A name from a dead civilization with a bit of sentimental value, maybe, but nothing usable on this planet? Fuck, you'd think Kon didn't already know his secre–

. . . Kon doesn't know Superman's secret identity, does he.

Tim had thought he was lying, when he'd said that stuff about Superman not having one, before. Thought it was supposed to be a cover or a misdirection or something. But Kon actually thinks that, doesn't he. And Superman has just . . . kept letting him think that.

Becoming a supervillain actually might be an underreaction, in retrospect.

"Just Kon sounds less formal anyway," Tim says instead of so just in theory, do you think tactile telekinesis could trigger a heart attack or stroke in a full-blooded Kryptonian, if you could REALLY concentrate on doing it? like not FATALLY, just dehabilitatingly?, because he still has some groundwork to do before they get that far into potential supervillainy. There's steps to the plan. The steps need to be followed. They're very important steps. "You don't want Bart full-naming you every time he's looking for the remote."

"Like he'd even bother, it's faster for him to turn the living room upside-down than actually ask anyway," Kon says with a laugh, dropping his head back on his neck. Tim has some thoughts about climbing into his lap and figuring out if the TTK makes him hickey-proof, and then buries them. Not appropriate. Not professional. Just not.

. . . technically, if Kon wanted a hickey, he could just let his TTK down and ask for–

Tim buries his thoughts deeper.

Much, much deeper.

"Point," he says. "So what time does Cadmus expect you back?"

"Dude, it's a job, not a boarding school," Kon says, giving him an amused look. "I don't have a curfew."

Tim, technically, hasn't followed his own curfew any way but accidentally once in his entire life, but for god's sake, is Cadmus even pretending to be raising a teenager or are they really just being that flagrant about ignoring all the child labor laws they so clearly do not give a fuck about? Like, there must be something illegal about this. There has to be.

If there's not, Tim will be adding "burn down Project Cadmus" to his list of supervillain plans to set up in advance. In red pen. Underlined.

Twice.

God, why is the world like this. Why are people like this?

"I guess that'd be convenient," Tim says, internally ranking various methods of combustion. "Though I guess it depends on the cafeteria hours, too."

"It's whatever, I can always eat later," Kon replies with a shrug. "I think I've still got a couple protein bars in my room anyway."

"Just protein bars?" Tim asks, mentally upping the amount of explosives he was considering going with. Cadmus is going to be a crater by the time he's done with it. "Don't you need more calories than that?"

". . . well, sort of," Kon says, folding his arms and looking very briefly embarrassed. "Superman doesn't have to eat, apparently, but, uh, guess I'm not Kryptonian enough for that. Actually I kinda need to eat more than normal humans, it's weird. Like. A lot more."

"I'm ordering pizza," Tim says, upping his mental explosives count again. "What do you want on it?"

"We're the only ones here," Kon says, looking puzzled.

"More pizza for us, then," Tim says.

[marloree]

TXT and their ways to celebrate your birthday

Pairing: Best Friend! TXT members (separately) × Reader

Genre: fluff, slight crack (?), headcanons

Hueningkai

I feel like he would be the type to prepare something warm and cozy for you. Be it a picnic in the nearby park or spending the day at his place where he prepares every single thing for you so you don't have to worry on your special day and just relax.

Gifts: plushies, little cute surprise gifts, things that reminded him of you, simply things you were ever caught mentioning you liked.

Beomgyu

I feel like he's the type to bring you to his house or come to yours and just play you songs until you get tired or your neighbours get tired of the noise you two make.

Definitely would help you with buying the food and with the overall preparations.

Gifts: he definitely would never gift you his portrait as a joke

Anything you like, really.

Or any funny silly thing he can come up with as a gift for you.

Soobin

He definitely would start wishing you right at 12 am by texting. Or, if he for sure knows that you aren't asleep, he'd lowkey come to your house at midnight just to be the first one to wish and gift you.

I feel like you could celebrate your birthday with him at a small cozy café or a restaurant nearby, without having to worry about cleaning all the mess if you were to celebrate at your place.

Gifts: if we're talking of him as a kpop idol, then he'd totally gift you every version of their albums; if we're talking non-idol! au, then - flowers + something you like.

Hear me out, he would totally give you a bigger bouquet of flowers than any boyfriend ever would.

Taehyun

He's definitely the one to be in for surprises.

If he starts acting all mysterious a good week before it's your birthday, don't even get surprised. The guy definitely comes up with something new and outstanding every year. He almost acts like it's his birthday instead of yours. Seriously, he plans out every single detail.

Be prepared to walk somewhere for half of your special day.

A new restaurant on the other end of the city, a nice place by the beach he recently discovered, or just the right place from where the whole city is seen - get your feet ready.

Gifts: the guy seriously seems to read your mind, or, rather, he's so observant to the point where he seems to remember every single word you've ever said. He'll definitely gift you that very thing you've mentioned only once a few months ago.

Yeonjun

He's up for everything and anything, really.

Do you want to throw a massive birthday party or enjoy the day with him only? Do you want to do something outstanding or just relax and have fun? Do you want to celebrate at a restaurant or go for something extra? He's always in.

Gifts: I think he'd be the type to directly ask you what exactly you want for your birthday. Don't hesitate to ask, though, he'll literally buy you whatever you want without looking at the prize tag twice. It's your special day, after all.

[steviewashere]

If Found, Return to Me

Rating: General CW: Implied Sex (Mild), Mild Panic Attacks Tags: Post Canon, Post Season 4, Established Relationship, Humor and Hijinks, Eddie Munson is a Little Shit, Steve Harrington is a Little Shit, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Panic Attacks, Dork Eddie Munson, Dork Steve Harrington, 3+1

Okay, the idea was going to be a 5+1, but I couldn't get past three ideas without feeling the crawl of burn-out, so I lowered it to three. But this is based on This Post from @apomaro-mellow

👕—————👕 1. He grips the hem of his shirt and tugs. Chin tucked into his neck so that he can read the text, which is bold and black and dark on the white background. ‘If found, return to Steve.’ Eddie groans. “Do we seriously have to wear these?” He whines.

Steve stands in front of him. Hands on his hips. One foot cocked. “Yes, Eddie,” he answers emphatically. Even a little annoyed. Which, sue Eddie for having to ask over and over, but it’s sort of embarrassing. Especially when his boyfriend is wearing a similar shirt that just reads: ‘I’m Steve’. Makes Eddie look sort of childish, if you were to ask him. “If I’m taking you out of town, to a place I’ve never been before for a convention—something I’d probably never even go to—you absolutely have to wear that shirt. Knowing you, you’ll see some action figure stand and I’ll be abandoned by the comic books.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Or, y’know, we can just link arms and walk around the convention center?” Steve only widens his eyes and raises an eyebrow. He groans again. “Okay, fine! We’ll wear these stupid t-shirts.” His head tilts back, eyes to the ceiling of their hotel. Huffs through his nose. “I don’t even know how you got these,” he grumbles, “I’d rather not know.”

Sure, Eddie’s prone to running off. He gets excited, okay? Especially when it’s something he knows a lot about, or something he’s been hunting down for literal years, or if it’s a thing he can surprise the people around him with. Thinking of the last time he wandered off and Steve had to practically scruff him, it’d been while he was purchasing a dice set for Dustin’s birthday. So maybe Steve has a point. And maybe it’s sort of a genius idea. Eddie just wants to be stubborn about this, it’d save him the humiliation.

Except, he’s still wearing the shirt (Steve in his matching one) when they finally get through the doors of the convention center. There’s people in costumes all around them: Spock and Kirk, Marty McFly, Indiana Jones, Predator, and a few kids with their dads all dressed like those ponies that Erica likes. Something in Eddie trills. And he’s already a few steps ahead of Steve before he knows it. Steve trails behind him, wonder and awe shining in his own eyes, trying to keep up with Eddie’s frantic nature.

But then they’re not even close to each other. They buy lunch a couple hours in. Steve gets a large lemonade and downs it like he’s never had something to drink before. And then Eddie’s being told, “Please wait here by the bathrooms. Don’t go do anything stupid.”

He’s leaning against the wall that reads: ‘Restrooms’. Arms intertwined over his chest. Legs crossed on one another. In the distance, his eyes lock onto a Dungeons & Dragons booth. There’s tall shelves stocked with every mini figure he could ever pray for. A few long tables that showcase various maps, dungeon master screens, and little trays for dice. However, there’s an odd rack in the booth. A hat stand. And on it, he spots the perfect thing for Steve. It’s probably expensive, Eddie debates with himself, but it’s Indiana Jones’ hat. His feet are moving before he registers the people walking past him.

And then he’s there. Holding a classic fedora hat between his hands. Turning it around in his hold. Thumbing at the material; marveling at how smooth and buttery soft the fabric is. He spots the price tag, ‘$8.00’. It’s not a terrible price. Isn’t damaged in any way. So he keeps it in his left hand, grabs a paladin mini figure in his right, and purchases both items. Bag in hand, he moves to leave the booth, but is stopped by a gentle hand tapping on his right shoulder.

He turns and is met with a girl. She’s level with his chest, eyes wide and calculating, hand retreating back to her side. “Hi—um—you don’t know me at all, but I found somebody named Steve looking for you,” she states, “I saw your shirt and figured you were the guy he was talking about.”

Eddie slumps. A part of him can’t believe the stupid shirt even worked. “Yeah, it’s probably me that he’s looking for,” he sighs. “Take me to him.”

She’s hard to follow in the crowd of people. Shorter than most and extremely quick. But she links his arm with hers and practically drags him back towards the bathrooms. And there he is, Steve Harrington with his hands on his hips, a furrow to his brow, mouth thin-lined. “Eddie,” Steve greets. He smiles, though it’s not all that sweet, but kind enough for this stranger that had to shepherd Eddie. The girl leaves them. And Steve steps closer to Eddie, crosses his arms over his chest, and then has the gall to snort. He raises a hand and plucks at Eddie’s t-shirt, directly on the word: ‘Found’. “Looks like my stupid t-shirt worked,” he snarks. The sass to this guy is unbelievable.

“Yeah, har har, laugh it up,” Eddie says dryly. “Maybe you don’t want the little gift I got for you.”

Steve perks up. Eyes glowing with curiosity. “What’d you get?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and smirks. Digs into his bag and flaunts the hat. “Saw it at a D&D booth, surprisingly. Probably would’ve been something we walked by, had I not…wandered.” He steps a little closer into Steve’s space, sets the hat on top of his head, and nods in approval. “Think that this purchase was a success. You look dashing, Mr. Jones.”

In a flurry of movement, Steve snatches the hat from off the top of his head. Gaping at it. “Eds,” he breathes, “this is so fucking cool.” He places it back where it was, pulling it tight to his hairline, and grins brightly. “Thank you, but also please don’t leave me alone here,” he says, “I got worried.”

“Sorry,” Eddie murmurs sheepishly. “Just thought about how excited you’d be about the hat and couldn’t resist. Won’t happen again, promise.”

Steve chuckles. “I know it will, but that’s what the stupid shirts are for. Anyway…Can we go look at the Lego set-up that we passed by in hall E? I think I saw a spaceship and—“

“Lead the way, Indy.” He might have to buy his own shirts with how Steve bounds away from him.

——— 2. “If…Lost?!” Eddie exclaims. “Steve, what the fuck? Why—How—Where the hell are you getting these t-shirts?” He asks. They’re at Steve’s house, getting ready for a day trip in Chicago. And, sure, Eddie’s never been in his life. Doesn’t know the streets of Chicago like the back of his hand. Maybe Steve does know more about where they’re going, but that doesn’t change just how ridiculous this shirt is. How it glares at him in the bathroom mirror.

Steve sidles up next to him. His t-shirt the same as the one from the convention. He wraps an arm around Eddie’s waist. Rests his head on his shoulder. “I have my ways,” he states ominously. “And, again, I know you. Your sense of direction is practically non-existent. You can’t deny that, baby. The only reason you found Skull Rock is because you stumbled upon it.”

“I was on the run, couldn’t exactly look at a map,” he grumbles. “But do we have to—“

“Yes,” Steve sighs. “Now, can you come out to the car with me? I’m ready to go.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, but does as he’s asked. Sits in the passenger seat. Shuffles through the radio stations. Teases Steve for his taste in tapes. But then they’re parking, getting out, walking around the city.

He follows Steve…for a while. Into a record shop. In the back of a diner, playing footsie under the table. Then he goes down a side street. Following a guy in a white t-shirt, hair high on his head, Adidas sneakers on his feet. However, the guy turns slightly. And…that’s not Steve. Eddie’s not sure how long he’s been following this stranger, or when he started, or from where he started from. Tries to rake through his brain to the last time he heard Steve talk about the street they were originally on, but there’s nothing. The words and names escape him.

He’s stranded in a city he’s never been to. Down a street he should’ve never come across. Wearing the most humiliating t-shirt known to mankind. Somewhere, again he’s not sure, behind him Steve is probably standing by some shop entrance, hands on his hips and a scowl perfectly framed on his face. And Eddie can’t help but panic. Standing with his back against the nearest wall. Breathing through his mouth like he’s about to beef it on the sidewalk. Eyes darting over and under and left and right. Trying to find semblance of normal, any little speckle of Steve. Something.

It’s not until he’s nearly sick to his stomach, churning and flipping and knotting, that a different stranger makes their presence known. They gently invade his space. Voice soft as they notice his panic. “Hey man, are you Eddie?” They ask. He nods way too quick, but sidelines the blur to his vision because talking to this stranger seems hopeful. Especially since they know his name. “Okay, cool,” the stranger mutters, “I ran into your…friend. Steve was on the verge of a nervous breakdown when I spotted him, said he couldn’t find you, but didn’t know where to look. So I volunteered to find you. And—well—judging by your shirt, I can gladly and safely reunite you guys. If you…If you wanna follow me.”

“Please,” Eddie murmurs, “I don’t know where I am.”

The trip back to Steve is arduous. Through crowds of people and past noisy cars. Bustling shops and the waft of various seasonings from a number of restaurants. But sure enough, Steve is on some precipice. His hair a mess and face pinched nervously. Then, he spots Eddie. Eyes lighting, clearing and glistening. A look of ‘I want to touch, but know I can’t.’

When he sidles up next to Steve after the stranger leaves, he carefully joins their hands. “I followed a complete stranger for probably thirty minutes,” Eddie admits, whispering. “His hair looked similar. And he was also wearing a white t-shirt. I got so scared, Steve.”

“Well, at least our stupid shirts worked again, right?” Steve asks, breathless and still verging breakdown.

Eddie squeezes their hands. “Can we go home, please? This is gonna sound crazy, but I think I prefer middle of nowhere Hawkins. At least I know where everything is.”

Steve nods rapidly. “I need to touch you in ways I can’t right now. Let’s go.” And then he tugs their hands, pulling them along sidewalks and through groups of people, down a couple side streets. It’s partially worth it, in the end. Definitely with the way Eddie’s skin is now decorated with Steve’s love, sticky and warm with it, too.

——— 3. The shirts end up following them to the Indiana State Fair.

Steve stops them at the front entrance, right after the ticket booth, and makes Eddie face him. “Listen to me,” he murmurs, voice low and near demanding. “If I turn my back for a second and you are gone, I will lose my absolute shit. Got it? Do not make me have to keep a rope tied to your belt loop.”

Eddie groans. “I get it, Steve. Can we at least try and enjoy ourselves?”

And they do for the most part. Steve plays at a few game stalls. Eddie carries the prizes. Their legs interlock underneath a picnic table, sharing greasy funnel cake and way too sour lemonade freezes. They watch a few performers, pet some fair animals, judge prized pigs like they know what they’re doing.

But then the ferris wheel comes up and Eddie sees an opportunity already forming. Like dots connecting or the stars aligning. He wants to drag Steve through the line and sit with him in one of the seats, wait for the wheel to stop at just the right height, and kiss him as the lights dim low and the darkness of the sky envelops them. Though, because he always misses a few steps in his plans, he doesn’t tell Steve that they’re going to the ferris wheel. Just starts walking. Shoving past other couples and accidentally sidelining a couple kids. He sneaks around large families. Maybe bribes a few people to let up on the ride’s queue.

Then, Eddie turns to his left. Where Steve is.

Or…Where Steve should have been.

“Shit,” Eddie spits. “Steve?” He calls over his shoulder. Frantically, he whips around in line. Eyes wide over people’s heads. Shoving them out of the way, albeit a little rough. Spreads the line into two little rows. But he comes up unsuccessful.

Until, right on cue, a stranger is tapping on his shoulder. Instead of letting them go into their whole spiel, he just sighs defeated, “Take me to him.”

There are no words exchanged. Not when Eddie follows behind, head bowed to the ground, dragging his feet like a petulant child. And then he stops where he sees Steve’s shoes, the bright blue Adidas sneakers he’d recognize anywhere.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “Thought you were with me.”

Steve just sighs. Something kind of disappointed that shrivels Eddie slightly. “Where’d you even go?” Steve calmly asks.

Eddie finally looks to him, his eyes pleading. “The ferris wheel, but…But! In my defense, I thought you were with me. And I was going to get us a seat on the ride. Was gonna wait until it got up to the highest point and do something cheesy like kiss you…or blow you, whatever. But I—“

“Why didn’t you just ask me, Eds?” Steve laughs with his full body, deep from within his stomach. “We can do that, babe. All you gotta do is ask, y’know?”

“I didn’t think—“

“I know you didn’t,” Steve teases. “Seems like my stupid t-shirt idea worked again. That’s three times, you dork.” Eddie can only groan. He knows that he has a bad habit of wandering, doesn’t mean that the idea is any less annoying or dumb. “Come on, Eds. Stop throwing a fit. Let’s do your thing.”

“You sure?”

“Eddie, if you don’t kiss or blow me on that ferris wheel, I’m banning D&D at my place for a month. Let’s go.”

When they get off and start walking back to the car, Steve tugs on the back of Eddie’s jeans. He yelps, startled, but quickly shuts his mouth when he’s faced with a stern look. “You know what I just remembered?” Steve asks him. There’s mirth in his eyes. Eddie doesn’t trust this at all. “Earlier, when I was telling you about wandering, I mentioned maybe tethering you to a rope. I might have to do that. Since you can’t behave.”

Eddie heats from the inside out. A coil tightens in his stomach. “You couldn’t even if you tried,” he bites back.

Later, he finds out, Steve is exceptional with rope. What a fucking boy scout.

——— +1 The Mall of America didn’t earn its title for nothing. The place was huge, that much Eddie could discern. Which made perfect sense when buying the new and improved: ‘If found, return to…’ shirts. However, this time, it was Steve with ‘If Found’ t-shirt.

At first, Steve didn’t know how to feel about the new shirts. Simply because he didn’t seem to see a reason for why he’d get lost or wander or be found in any capacity. But given the surprise Eddie had for him, the reason definitely fit the bill.

What Steve didn’t know, that Eddie one hundred percent knew, was that a Lego store was opening up at the mall. Or, has been opened at the mall. It was the perfect time for a little road trip. A little Fall of 1992 trip to Minnesota. Driving by trees and such. Parking in the Mall of America’s lot. Figuring out what stores to hit first, what food they wanted to eat, where the bathrooms were located. Typical day out sort of things.

However, one moment Steve was with him and the next…Eddie was scouring the food court for his fiancé. Trying not to throw up the meager lunch he just had. Swallowing down panic after panic after panic that rose in his chest like tsunami waves. This place was too big for either of them to wander or get lost or have a mind of their own. Not with the way they impulsively purchases things, an awful habit they both exuded—today is the worst day to do just that.

Which leads him to tapping on the shoulder of a guy around his age. Who’s carrying two large yellow Lego bags. Just sitting back in one of the food court chairs, minding his own business. Until, he whips around to find Eddie startled and red faced. “Uh…Can I help you, man?” The stranger greets.

“Sorry, hi,” Eddie says. “I just—You look like somebody who can maybe help me. I’m looking for my…friend, his name is Steve. Uh—White, around my height, dirty blonde hair. He’s wearing a pair of near skin tight Levi jeans, light wash and a white t-shirt that matches mine. Except, his says ‘If found, return to Eddie’. I’m Eddie, by the way. Anyway—Uh, you probably just came from the Lego store, yeah?”

“Sure,” the guy says, completely unsure of this interaction. “Why do you need to know—“

“So you can like lead me there? I’ve never been there. And like he’s really obsessed with those damn sets and like that’s really cool or whatever, but I need to know where he is because we’re from out of town and I have no fucking clue what I’m doing in this mall or where to—“

“Alright, dude, calm down,” guy placates. “We’ll find your friend. Just…That store is pretty fucking busy. Really popular, you know? I’ll take you there, but with how panicked you are, it would be best if you waited by the entrance of the store. Is that…”

“That’s perfectly fine to me!” Eddie nearly shouts. 

He follows on this person’s heels. Bobbing and weaving through crowds of other over-consumers. Maybe shoving a few of them out of the way just so he can stay with that guy. But eventually, they make it to the outside of the rather precarious Lego store. Its yellow storefront nauseating to Eddie. Almost—Genuinely frustrating him beyond belief. And he sees Steve. Standing near the back of the store. Staring up at one of the shelves, but he lets the stranger he found grab Steve for him. Because no way in hell is Eddie going to survive being swallowed up by the awfully large crowd swamping the store.

Steve emerges from the crowd, a bit offended and a lot upended. But then has the gall to appear sheepish when he’s led directly to Eddie. With a nod and a tight smile, Eddie waves the stranger off. Almost wants to run back and get his name, send him a thank you card from the Hallmark store he saw on their way there.

He turns to face Steve, though. Leans them into the wall. “Jesus, Steve,” Eddie groans. “Is this what you put up with?”

“Is what—“

“The fucking panic? The—The whirling around and checking in the weird obscure places? Tapping on stranger’s shoulders only to see if they have a single goddamn idea where anything is…ever? Like—“ He sighs. “I thought that I’d never find you, Steve! You could’a at least told me you were going to go somewhere on your own. Maybe give me an idea of where you’re going?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Oh, so now that’s important to you?” He petulantly mutters. “Can’t go off and have fun without being pestered—“

“I’m not pestering, Steve!” Eddie grits. “I’m being concerned! I’m—You scared me,” he admits quietly. “And you ruined my surprise.”

“Ruined?” Steve echoes, confused. “What do you…oh. Oh. I—“ Then, Steve looks down to the floor. Eyes ashamed and arms tight to his body. “I didn’t…I was just excited, I’m sorry. The store was on the directory when we first came in and I like—“ He chuckles a little bit, loosening up. “—I fucking memorized where to go. What path to take. Because I just really wanted to look in there. They’ve got—Eddie, they have this one set in there, it’s a freaking spaceship and it’s called the…The Galactic Meditator or something? I can’t—That doesn’t matter,” he rambles. Takes a deep breath and pushes himself tighter into Eddie’s space. “I’m sorry, baby,” he murmurs, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Eddie gives a single nod. Closes his eyes and staves off the rest of his panic and anger. He’d be a hypocrite if he lashed out right now. He knows that. And, honestly, seeing Steve geek out about toys…of all things…is kind of endearing. Maybe even doing something for Eddie.

He puts on his best smile, something genuine and pulled from within him. “It’s alright,” he whispers. “I—I should’ve known that you were going to come over here.”

“I mean, you did a little bit, right? Had to find somebody that led you here?”

“You got me,” Eddie breathes. “Y’know all my tricks.”

Steve hums beside him. “I’m actually sorry, though, that I ruined the surprise you had in mind. This is a pretty cool thing.”

Eddie smirks. “Steve Harrington admitting to a geek thing being cool…When did the tables turn?” He teases. “Seems like God has heard my prayers,” he jests. With a quick sneaky look around, he grabs Steve’s hand. Squeezes firmly and exhales the last bit of his panicked nerves. “Does my fiancé want to…Oh, I don’t know…Get a Lego set?”

The hand in his tightens with a harsh, unbelieving amount of strength. He almost winces. “Really?” Steve asks, perking up. If he had a tail, it would most definitely be wagging. “Can we actually? I really want that one that I found in there, the uh…Galactic whatever it was called. I’m bad at the names, which is weird because I’ve been building these sets for a while, but I always seem to get the names wrong and I—“ Eddie interrupts with a squeeze to his hand again, a smile bright and plastered to his face. “Sorry,” Steve sheepishly says, “Let’s go in there. I can show you and maybe…you can get one of your own?”

“Lead the way, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs against Steve’s cheek, leaving a very chaste but all the same kiss there.

The panic was worth it in the end. Because watching Steve in his element, nerd-ing over toys and how to best put them together, really makes Eddie’s chest warm. In a way that tells him he’d put up with wandering all his life, if only to get Steve to smile the way he does when proudly displaying his new spaceship.

👕—————👕

[jungkookschin]

older: sneak peek one

think i need someone older, just a little bit colder, take the weight off your shoulders

READ IT HERE

synopsis: you are obsessed with jungkook, your parents' friends' son, and he adores you. but does jungkook adore you because you've been acquainted since childhood? or because he sees you as a woman? he remembers you obnoxiously doing cartwheels in his room as a kid, but he doesn't remember you becoming so alluring.

word count: 300 (?), actual fic is 17k

pairing: older!jk x afab reader

genre: age gap au (seven years), childhood acquaintance au, fluff, comedy, angsty, outta pocket, alludes to sexual innuendoes

author's note: this is a scene from like the middle of the fic!! if u want to be tagged in the actual fic, lmk! also yn is a snorlax girl and i love that for her

Your arms linked with Yunjin, you skip around from one club to the next, dancing and partying your little hearts out. When the night comes to a close you prance to the local ramen shop by campus.

From a distance, you can already make out Jungkook's figure. He’s always so animated when he’s with his friends, dramatically gesturing and hip thrusting in the air while his friends laugh at his immature jokes. He’s got a cigarette between his pointer and middle finger, taking slow puffs, allowing the smoke to fill his lungs before he tilts his head to exhale a long plume of smoke into the atmosphere. 

That’s right. Jungkook smokes occasionally but never lets you do it. What a hypocrite. 

His eyes drift off for a second until they land on you, and his lips curl up in your presence. 

“Well look, if it isn’t my favorite girl,” he teases, letting out low laughter at the way you crimson when all his friends’ heads whip in your direction. 

You narrow your eyes at him, giving him a dirty look that Jungkook coos at. Even when you were trying to intimidate him you were akin to a cute Snorlax, so adorable, eyebrows pinched and lips pouted- how could he feel anything but adoration at that? 

“Aw angel,” he jests, throwing your words right back at you, “Don’t ignore me, ‘m sorry for teasing you,” he catches you as you walk past him, pulling you towards his chest before resting his chin on top of your head. 

He casually smiles at Yunjin. “How’s my angel been doing? Has she been behaving?”

Yunjin’s jaw drops at the bold statement and you attempt to wrestle out of his firm embrace to berate him. 

“Just kidding. It’s getting late, though. Do you girls need a ride home?” he asks, finally letting you go just for you to stumble out of his grip and almost land on your face, but luckily Jungkook pulls your shoulders back without even looking in your direction. 

“Jungkook, it’s literally 10,” you deadpan. 

“Oh c’mon, I don’t want you girls to get kidnapped or something,” he snarkily responds. 

“How about you give us some money instead?” Yunjin jests, clearly joking, but Jungkook takes it so, so seriously. He raises a brow at both of you. “How much do you need?”

“Wait no- I was kidding,” Yunjin quickly clarifies, her ears becoming slightly red, “you don’t have to..”

Jungkook looks from you to her, then back at you before whipping out his phone, taking another puff of his cigarette before blowing the smoke upwards, careful so you don’t inhale any smoke.

Ping!

Your eyebrows pinch in confusion when you get a notification, and you unzip your mini purse to grab your phone, allowing the screenlight to illuminate your pretty features.  

JEON JUNGKOOK HAS TRANSFERRED YOU 500 DOLLARS VIA HYBETRANSFER.

“250 each, alright?” Jungkook laughs, taking another puff of his cigarette before he saunters off, his friends pushing him around and teasing him. 

“Ayo, when did Jeon turn into a sugar daddy?”

You and Yunjin are left dumbfounded, even more so when Jungkook turns around and makes kissy lips at you. 

You fall to your knees.

[catscidr]

Could you make a scenario with sick reader and Yandere doctor please 😭

need him to walk into my room in a nurse outfit and take care of me when i get sick... but Alas he's not real... woe is me(༎ຶ⌑༎ຶ)..... WHATEVER i can always write about him anyways so im WINNING EITHER WAY...... (inhales copium) ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: yandere dottore, he's a little overbearing, reader has a cold. that's pretty much it (lmk if i missed anything!) includes: gn reader, dottore, iota (youngest segment) wc: 1,3k

Ooohhhh he would be mad. Not in an explosive way, but in a “I’m not mad, just disappointed” way except he IS mad, he’s just really good at keeping his emotions under wraps. You know this, too. He made sure that you did. 

It didn’t matter what kind of illness you came down with; a common cold, the flu, something worse? He’s freakishly good at reading you, and he didn’t need to hear you blowing your nose or sniffling every other second to know you had gotten sick. The skin around your nose blossoming into a darker, reddish tone and your eyelids drooping just a bit lower than usual was enough for him to know you weren’t telling him something you should have. 

It also didn’t matter if you didn’t even see him- he had eyes everywhere, quite literally. It was rare for you to be anywhere in the palace or the lab without one of his clones attached to your hip, whether it be a younger clone tagging along to do something more interesting than breaking open a ruin guard, or an older clone staying by your side, taking a break from work to enjoy your company. 

So, of course, even if the doctor happened to be especially busy when you suddenly caught a cold, you’d still be stuck with him being the equivalent to a mother hen because of how seriously he took your health. 

Usually you didn’t mind his attention, you’d even bask in it, but this time you couldn’t stand it. Your state had been manageable for the past two days and, thankfully, Prime and his clones were none the wiser to your nose overproducing snot nor the way your eyes had more crust around them when you woke up in the morning. But you feared that today would be the day he’d catch you and promote you to being his bedwarmer- literally. Last time you got sick and went to him for help you felt like you were in urgent care, forced to stay in his bed, having at least two of his segments stay with you 24/7, making you eat four meals a day despite your lack of appetite and desperate need for sleep. 

You could insist all you want that you were fine, that you just needed to vegetate in bed for a day or two and you’d be back on your feet in no time, but no, he refused to have any of it. He’d ask who’s the doctor here? in the same condescending voice he used whenever one of his lackeys displeased him (and you’d reply with you didn’t even graduate if you weren’t so tired), and then would throw you over his shoulder to bring you to his spotless bedroom so you could rest while he keeps an eye on you.

The one thing you were happy about was how Dottore wasn’t prone to blatant violence. Nothing physical, at least. When needed, he would slip medication into your water to help you sleep, would graciously lift your sleeve to give you a shot while you were knocked out cold and give you special medicine to make sure you had all the vitamins you needed. He wouldn’t do any of that if you had cooperated with him in the first place, though; so, you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him. At least not for long. 

Like clockwork, you were currently going through that same order of events. 

In retrospect, it was a bad idea to indulge Iota and go out in the snow to make a snowman with him- but how could you resist him! The lab could feel so stuffy as it was, and the additional smell of blood covered up by strong cleaning agents only did so little to help you resist his pleas. So, you grabbed Dottore’s Harbinger coat and got yourself dragged outside by the small but mighty youngest segment as he eagerly talked your ear off about having a snowball fight, making a myriad of snow angels and other winter activities you weren’t familiar with. 

After getting absolutely pelted with snow (Iota was good at snowball fights, surprisingly) you hung up Dottore’s coat to dry and made your way to the bathroom to wipe off any snow and water that had gotten on your skin despite the large, fluffy cloak you wore. Iota waved you off with a boyish grin and a taunting better luck next time! as you watched him saunter off into the direction of his creator’s lab. Your fingertips felt cold but as you dried your skin thoroughly you felt your body gradually warm up, and that was enough for your standards. 

Placing the towel on a rack to dry, you then headed over to your room to relax your aching muscles after the remarkably intense snowball fight. You laid down underneath the covers, grateful to be able to take a nap. However, when you awoke about two hours later, you thought you felt your arms weighed even more than before, and your head throbbed an ache that wasn’t there previously. And surely, a day later, you find yourself sneakily throwing away your used tissues somewhere that Dottore won't find them, else he subjects you to his overbearing methods of... curing you. 

You did your best to make your footsteps as careful and light as possible, lowering the chances of one of them finding you with a trash bag full of snot-filled tissues. Unfortunately for you though, maybe you should have worn something other than pyjamas because, as luck had it, although a segment hasn’t seen your physical state, a patrolling agent did. 

He spoke into a walkie-talkie quietly enough that your ears didn’t pick up the sound of his voice and, as you're about to step outside to throw the trash bag out, you feel a hand on your shoulder. A cold, gloved hand that you could recognize anywhere with your eyes closed. You halt your movements as the (not so) mysterious figure behind you stays silent, waiting for you to say something first. 

Your shoulders slump forward in defeat, and you sniffle. “I don’t wanna be locked up in your room again,” you say quietly, voice slightly slurred from your cold. He scoffs, his hand squeezing your shoulder gently enough for it to be comforting. “Maybe if you didn’t try to go outside while having a cold I would reevaluate your options,” he sighs. “Alas, you leave me no choice. What were you thinking?” Dottore turns you around and frowns, tilting his head to the side. If you were anyone else you would have been dead where you stood, but here you are; wearing one of his old shirts and a loose pair of sweatpants, one of your hands gripping a trash bag, and the other wiping your nose. You stand awkwardly, looking away sheepishly, not particularly enjoying being caught red-handed like this. 

“It would be unhygienic to keep all of those used tissues in my room,” you respond with a nonchalant shrug. He holds back the urge to sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose, mask lifting just a tad from the action, and exhales slowly. You would be the death of him eventually, he thought tiredly. 

Dottore bends down low enough to grab the bag from your hands and looks over his shoulder, tossing it to a poor unsuspecting fatui soldier. The soldier in question stumbles back slightly, just barely keeping themselves from tripping over, as Dottore signals for them to throw it away themselves. You don’t have the time to speak up before the person scurries away. 

“Next time don’t be so obvious,” he says quietly enough that only you can hear him. He bends his torso forward slightly, holding his face leveled with yours. “And next time you decide to get sick,” he begins with a raspy tone, holding your chin up with his palm, “come to me immediately. Lest you want me to wrestle you into my room again.” 

You’d be blushing if you didn’t know what was going to happen. Dottore straightens his back and outstretches his hand to you, looking at you from below his mask. Defeated, you interlace your fingers with his and jut your lip out as you hold back the urge to whine. A small smile graces his face as he guides you back to the lab. 

[l0v3tast3]

More young!reader and 141 maybeeee? I feel like I just need more headcanons and drabbles

Also maybe like, 141 reacting to reader randomly dropping information like "well, my mum's an alcoholic and she used to beat me"

And this is me speaking from experience cause I do that and like 🥲

✎ i think i got this request like almost a month ago now i am. so sorry lmao but i'm actually getting to it and that's what counts right? right. i pumped this out in like 2 hours which if you knew how i write you would be very impressed 😎

✎ tags: young!reader, military!reader, not proofread im too cool for that, just general fluff like one mention of simon being angsty about u dying ig?

♡ so soap and the reader are definitely really good friends. i don't really think he's like super "mushy"? i guess? like some people make him out to be (not that there's anything wrong with that i love that trope) because like, look at him. i love him but some of the stuff he says in the games is like super fucking #militaryman if that makes sense lmao

♡ you're friends in a sibling kind of way. you make fun of each other all of the time and play pranks with (and on) each other. he goes rough on you when you're sparring but always makes sure you're okay afterwards. a lot of the time he talks to you like you're a little kid in an annoying tone just to piss you off.

♡ simon definitely didn't really want to like you at first, partly because he didn't want to get close to you in case you died or got seriously injured or captured or whatever else could possibly happen. but you literally weaseled your way in as his friend.

♡ after a few weeks of being with the team, you picked up on their likes and dislikes. in particular, you learned which foods simon liked at the cafeteria, you learned what kind of books he read, etc. etc. and so ensued you doing nice things for him.

♡ you would grab him the protein bar he liked from the vending machine when you went to grab yourself or someone else something. if you went somewhere with cheap books, you would grab him one that was similar to what you saw him reading last. you always made it a point to get him cheap things so you could refuse if he tried to pay you back.

♡ most of the time, though, he would say he didn't want it when you handed it to him. you would just shrug and tell him to give it to someone else (you see him with whatever you got him not long after). other times, you'll just sit down next to him and talk to him out of nowhere. towards the beginning, it was more of you talking at him, but that was okay with you. it took longer than the others, but you wormed your way into his cold heart.

♡ price is your new father. he gives you advice on literally everything, whether or not you ask for it (you almost never do). he does the dad thing of the hands on the hips and legs kinda spread while he explains the topic in depth. he has a very vast wealth of knowledge, you come to learn.

♡ i feel like one time you would comment on price's outfit, saying it looked good and matched well one day and he would kind of take it to heart. from then on he'll occasionally ask you how his outfit is that day. he'll play it off as if he's joking, but deep down he's actually curious. you always make fun of him for the hat that's seemingly glued to his head, though.

♡ gaz fully leans into becoming your older brother. he doesn't deny it, he just laughs when someone says anything. also i feel like he'll literally do anything you want to do. he'll go shopping with you, he'll go to bookstores or antique stores or crystal places, literally anywhere. it's gotten to the point where you just tell him to go with you and he just grabs his coat.

♡ he also will play any video game with you and he always beats you at it. it literally does not matter if he's never even heard of this random game you just pulled out of some alternate dimension, he'll be better than you at it. he's also absolutely clueless about his natural talent; if you ask him what the hell he's doing right, he's just like "huh? 🤨🤨"

♡ yeah in regards to randomly dropping trauma like it's nothing, it's definitely a smack in the face to all of them. they talk about the time they almost died in a firefight or when they got shot several times over, but they don't talk about the "deep" stuff.

♡ so it's like, you say some shit like "yeah my [super close person] died when i was really young that was #rough lol" and they all just slowly turn their heads to you like "what the actual fuck did you just say" and you're just like "what's going on why did we stop talking 🧐"

♡ they either move on to a new conversation after several long moments of silence or you just don't notice and continue talking like you didn't just give them mental whiplash.

♡ also so like i'm the type of person that loves clutter and just wants to decorate the hell out of my apartment n shit right? so like if you're also that kind of person and you just amass all this stuff in your room and put in shelves and lamps and posters and pictures covering every wall (even though it's probably against some military code or rules or whatever) and they got a peek they're just like "what the fuck"

♡ every time price sees it he tells you to clean it up but it's half-hearted at best. you tell him he's just jealous of all of your cool stuff, and he secretly is (if you're a mini-fridge kind of person he would definitely want to steal it from you).

♡ if you don't really decorate your room that much or just don't have a lot of stuff, they all get you little things to clutter up your space with. kyle and you come up with a system of buying each other a gift whenever you go shopping together, and he's good at remembering what you like.

♡ i think simon likes carving wood in his spare time, and you'll see him doing this and say that's really cool and good, and he's always just like "ya want it?" and tosses it at you. you don't bother asking if he's sure he wants to give it to you because he already pulled out another block of wood to carve into.

♡ they all also will fight literally anyone for you once you all get closer. you're probably one of, if not the youngest person working in the entire compound and they know how people talk, and if they hear anyone saying anything bad about you for any reason they shut that shit down immediately. you are good, in every aspect, and they all will let everyone know that.

[aonungslvr]

he’s…what? II

pairing ; jealous! ao'nung x f!sully! reader

taggings ; 🪽⭐️

summary; you bring ao'nung back to the forest you grew up in, but he's not exactly getting the hang of things.

notes; this was a request but i lost it.. (you know who you are) i literally kicked my feet and giggled when i saw it. in response, of course you can have a part two! hope this is up to par with what you wanted <3

3k words - part one

after you had finally been reunited with your best friend of many years, you two spent a lot of time together. much to ao‘nungs dismay.

you and txäol had daily ikran rides, went hunting, attended clan gatherings, and explored the forest together. you two had done these things for countless years when you had been younger. however, a more than jealous metkayina had began tagging along from afar.

the point that txäol wasn’t interested in you had finally gotten across his mind, but he still didn’t like the fact you had spent all of your time with this boy when you could be hanging out with him.

he was new to the forest and had no clue what he was doing. he tripped over everything, ran from everything, and got mad at everything. all he wanted was his sweet mate to show him around and spend time with him. instead of him, you spent time with your best friend.

ao’nung understood why you were spending time with him, he had been there for you way longer than teal na’vi himself had. but that didn’t mean it made him any less upset.

he would randomly appear at your side, tugging on your arm or tail to ask you to go do something with him instead. you tried to dismiss him and get him to hang out with txäol but he always shut down the idea. that was until you had had enough of him messing around.

you had brought the metkayina and omatikaya boys together in a small area within the forest and began ordering them around.

“i don’t want to hear from either of you until you get it together, get along, and become friends someway, anyway!”

txäol didn’t mind getting to know your mate, in fact he wanted to! but to ao’nung, this was a punch in the gut. get along? with your boy best friend you spend every second with? he’d rather fend off an akula by himself.

for you, he stayed. he stayed standing in the same space after you left, not attempting to make any moves towards talking with txäol. eventually, he had thought of one thing he’d like to say.

“you need to-“

“if you ever raise a finger towards her or even speak to loud, so help me eywa, i will skin you like the fish you are.”

wow.

ao’nung backed up after that.

txäol was dead serious.

they didn’t end up bonding that day.

. . .

“(y/n) why don’t you come back with me to the reef! there’s too many trees here- it’s so hot! and those viperwolf things are terrifying! come on- you like the ocean!”

clearly, your mate wasn’t adapting like you had. it finally clicked in your brain that you and your family had been mentored by the natives of the reef, ao’nung was the only metkayina here and you weren’t teaching him anything.

that had to change.

you started by simply introducing the sea na’vi to the forest. you would tell ao’nung about different plants and animals that surrounded your childhood home and help him become more accustomed to them.

it started by simply showing him random vegetation such as loreyu, and telling him he needed to feel the forest inside of him just as he felt the ocean. eventually you moved forward, introducing him to a kxaylkxa. they were pretty docile animals and your mate didn’t seem to mind them, aside from the comments about how stupid they looked.

“this is seriously an animal-? this thing isn’t just fake-?” ao’nung commented as he tapped the animals head.

“be nice! she is beautiful, you are just mean.”

“come on (y/n) where are the cool animals-! these things just walk around all day, where’s the interesting th- HOLY SHIT.”

your mother was once named palulukan makto, given she rode a palulukan during one of the earlier battles against humans, before you were born. unfortunately, this creature died, but she left behind a baby of her own, who had now grown to adulthood with a keen liking to the sully’s.

“oh him-? he’s just a big baby.” you replied as you gave the palulukan a few pats to the head.

your mate wasn’t moving. either he was too scared to move and startle the, what he would call, beast, or he physically could not.

eventually, the palulukan went on his way, leaving two na’vi behind, one absolutely terrified and one rethinking her choice of bringing her scaredy cat mate home with her.

“(y/n)- i’m seriously starting to think the forest just isn’t for me. eywa knows i was meant to be in the sea for as long as i live.”

“oh come on- don’t talk like that! you’ll get used to it!”

“i seriously doubt it?? i mean- like look at these! stupid floaty things!” he said as he swatted away some sort of white jellyfish looking things.

“wel- ao’nung! no, no, no, kehe! stop that!”

you grabbed his hands and held them down at his sides, preventing him from hitting anymore as you admired the scene you saw before you.

“okay what’s ha-“

“atokirina!”

you watched as the seeds slowly surrounded ao’nung even though he looked like he was one touch away from throwing a fit. you recalled this scene from somewhere in your memories.

your mother told stories, stories of her and your father. when your dad had arrived from the sky people he was about to be killed by your mother before he was surrounded in atokirina, a sign from eywa.

“eywa speaks!” you yipped.

after getting your mate used to the forest and all it has to offer, it was time you started actually training him. he had been around for a few weeks and still couldn’t climb a tree.

given his body physically isn’t built to climb, you took it easy on him for a while, but if you could learn how to swim, he could learn how to climb.

it took hours out of your days but you still helped him learn. ewya knows no one else would’ve done it. besides, you did love him after all.

you had climbed up a pretty easy to climb tree and got to the midpoint within a few seconds before you paused and looked down, waiting for ao’nung to follow.

“come on! just put your feet on a branch and go up!”

“what..”

you weren’t the best teacher. it seemed like such common sense to you, you couldn’t fathom that a na’vi wouldn’t actually be able to climb. you hopped down from your spot perched on a branch and placed your hands on your mate to guide him along.

“like this- you place your first foot here, the the second higher.”

navi were only blue right? yeah well this one was red.

after doing your best to adapt him to climbing (he climbed up and down a tree in only 2 hours 26 minutes), you switched gears to hunting!

you stood behind ao’nung adjusting his arms ever so carefully as he held a bow and arrow in his four fingered hands.

“close your left eye, focus on your target.”

after you were happy with the position of his hands and arms you let go and instructed him to release. it wasn’t even a full second after he fired that you yipped and ducked while pulling the metkayina down with you as the arrow ricocheted the target and came launching back at you two.

“oops..”

so maybe hunting wasn’t his strong suit, next down on the list was bonding with a pa’li. they weren’t hostile animals and should be pretty easy to make tsaheylu with! ao’nung had bonded with an ilu so what was really the difference?

“ok, now gently mount him. slowly.”

you assisted him a tad and got him on the back of the horse-like animal, before instructing him on how to make tsaheylu without getting thrown off like your father first had when he learned your people’s way.

“when you bond, hold on to his neck tightly, but don’t choke him. he’ll want to run and you must stay on his back. just like an ilu!”

the clarification of it being as easy as ilu taming gave ao‘nung little comfort. the metkayina tame their companions as babies, and the bonds aren’t as strict as forest animals.

“just like an ilu..yeah..”

you held the pa’lis kuru steady as ao’nung brought his own down and the nerves intertwined. the animals pupils dilated and he quickly took off, pushing you behind. you tripped on a tree root sticking out but you were okay.

your mate, only seeing you fall to the ground after the animal he was riding kicked into you, was set off and his focus was instantly switched from the pa’li to you. he turned his body around to look at you and in turn fell off the back of his current lesson.

“(y/n)!”

“ao’nung you skxwang! you had it-!”

he got up and jogged to your side, helping you up as his pa’li ran around in circles before coming back and huffing.

“was worried about you- can you blame me?”

you slapped the back of his neck and yipped for the animal to calm down.

“i was fine. it’s just a little dirt. let’s try that again, yeah?”

after a few times (a lot of times) trying to keep ao’nung from falling off the pa’li he was finally able to ride the horse around in a small part of the forest.

over the next few weeks, you had one on one lessons with him teaching him all the things he needed to know to be successful in the forest. plants he needed to stay away from, herbs with medicinal properties, animals he probably shouldn’t approach, how to properly fire an arrow, climbing, and some traditional omatikayan weaving.

as much as he sucked in the beginning, he was a quick learner and managed to adapt in around the time it took you and your siblings too when you entered the sea.

if not now, it was never.

“ao’nung! time for you to get your ikran- come on!”

the majority of his training was all for this small purpose, tame an ikran and try not to die. naturally you hid this fact from him, given he wouldn’t even step a foot next to your ikran. however, whether he liked it or not, if he was going to learn your ways he had to complete this part of the forests rite of passage.

“yeah uh- what?”

“your ikran! your ready, come with me and i’ll take you to the mountains!”

“(y/n), my mate, my lover, my everything, respectfully, fuck no.”

“you’re going ao’nung te lepay tonowari’itan.”

“oh.”

after dragging a whining teen na’vi up the hallelujah mountains into ikran ridden territory, he looked like he was ready!

“see, they aren’t that bad! and taming them doesn’t even kill a lot of na’vi”

“well that sounds go- NA’VI DIE HERE??”

“well yeah obviously, it’s a rite of passage for a reason.”

“eywa please help me.”

“alright! let’s do this!”

you were putting on a cheerful facade to try and make ao’nung more comfortable but you obviously knew the risks. your brother lo’ak had broken a leg when he had first tried taming his ikran, and some na’vi had met worst fates.

you handed your mate a saddle meant for ikran as well as some rope. it’s easier to tame one once your tie their mouth shut, slide on the saddle, mount, and bond. you had explained how some of this worked before when you told the story of when you first got your own ikran, seyä, who was watching from afar.

“when he chooses you, tie his mouth shut with this as you put on the saddle.”

“chooses me?”

“when an ikran locks eyes with you and screeches, it means he has chosen you.”

“yeah, chosen me to kill.”

you slapped the back of his neck before continuing.

“technically yes- but stop with all that! you are ready and you will do just fine. na’vi younger than you do this all the time.”

ao’nung sighed and looked as if he had accepted his death. he held onto the rope you gave him and entered the open area where all the ikran could clearly see him. the animals cocked their heads at him and were probably confused seeing a metkayina here.

one certain ikran, a teal male with some darker blue stripes, took an interest in him and grunted, before releasing a hellish scream. off on the side, you giggled at the ikran that had chosen him, they had the same coloring!

“alright than…you and me.”

ao’nung lunged first, aiming for the ikrans jaw to latch it shut. the animal played defense and offense at the same time and launched the na’vi back on the rocks using his nose. ao’nung got up and was clearly not happy. he had a cut on his elbow he quickly examined before turning and hissing at the monster.

you observed from the side and debated with yourself. if he couldn’t pull it off should you save him? na’vi are supposed to be left alone during this process. when your brother had gotten injured during his ikran taming your father didn’t even want him going back, which caused an argument with your mother. ‘this is our way’ is what she would say. sure it’s your way, but your way is also love and protection. what kind of mate would you be if you sat here and watched your partner die?

you didn’t have any more time to ponder on the thought because ao’nung fought back and had wrapped the rope around the throat of the ikran, sliding it up its neck to get to the mouth. he was tossed around by the flailing of the animals neck, but he held on and slipped the rope around its jaws, tying it off. the creature could no longer nip or bite, leaving its offense limited. the metkayina slid the saddle on and jumped on the back of the ikran as it shook and flapped its wings to kick him off. as ao’nung finally grabbed its kuru, the beast ran towards the edge of the floating mountains and dived off.

“ao’nung!”

you ran to the edge and looked down to try and find where they were, praying you didn’t see the ikran come back up alone.

“oh my eywa, oh my eywa, i killed my mate- i killed him-!”

just as you were about to call your own ikran over and dive down looking for him while planning your own funeral in your head, the teal ikran shot back up, this time, with a na’vi of the same color on its back.

“(y/n)! i did it-!”

“oh my e- thank you great mother- get down here! now!”

ao’nung tried his best to steer his new ikran back towards the mountains and eventually made it, being greeted with the most breathe-sucking hug from you.

“your hurt- come! we have to go to the tsahík.”

“wha- tsahík-? i don’t know- i think i’m fi-“

“now!”

your mate didn’t have the best ideas about meeting another clans tsahík given how his own mother reacted to the sully’s appearing on her beaches.

what he really wasn’t prepared for, was that tsahík being your grandmother.

mo’at spread healing pastes around the wound and wrapped a large leaf around the bend of ao’nungs elbow, almost creating some sort of cast, and sent him on his way.

“you’ll be fine boy, just don’t bend your elbow to much.”

“thank you mormor!”

“yeah, th- MORMOR?? SHES YOUR GRANDMOTHER?”

“yes? i forgot to mention? my mistake!”

the metkayina turned pink and turned to the tsahík, your grandmother, before thanking her profusely and apologizing if he was rude in any way.

you giggled but contained it to yourself. you knew you didn’t tell him, but it made for a funny interaction.

“yes yes, all is well, just go. out of the tent.”

“YES MA’AM.”

“and (y/n)? i hope to see you at the clan gathering tonight.”

ao’nung could’ve broken his other elbow by how fast he made his way out of the healing tent. he waited as far as he could until you came out before rushing over to you and blaming you for not warning him.

“(y/nnnn)!! you didn’t tell me! that was so embarrassing- she probably hates me now!”

“your so dramatic!”

later that day the teen na’vi was caught on his ikran trying to get him to fly back to the reef. (his ikran refused.)

later that night, your clan had a festival. the welcoming back of the former olo'eyktan and toruk makto, 3 tskarems, and the entire sully family, as well as a farewell to the humans.

during all your time home, you had been teaching ao’nung the way of the hunt, and how to succeed in the clan, but not your cultural values.

the omatikayans dance, songs, weaving, and food was all new to him, and he was quickly exposed to it as you brought him to the celebration.

everything was different than how things happened at the reef, but it wasn’t a bad kind of different.

ao’nung watched as you danced with your friends, txäol included, and you smiled, laughed, and sung along to whatever cultural song the singers had chosen to sing that night.

you were happy with the metkayina but it was nothing like this, being reunited with your childhood friends and the rest of your people.

ao’nung, as your mate, picked up on this. he saw your emotions and there was a chance he even felt them himself.

this was your home, and maybe it could be his too.

[starrysharks]

🦈💫PINNED POST 💫🦈

name: ZENO

age: 15-17 (don't wanna share my exact age sorrey)

gender/pronouns: maybe genderfluid, probably just cis girl - use any pronouns you'd like but she/her and he/him are best

race: ghanaian AND PROUD 💯💪🏿🇬🇭 (living in bumfuck britian tho)

MORE ABOUT ME AND MY ART DOWN BELOW!!!

other than that basic info, i am a CARTOON ARTIST inspired by stuff like invader zim, sonic the hedgehog, and moe anime, who enjoys drawing primarily CUTE GIRLS... but also some GUYS too i don't discriminate. i'd say my art covers around 50% fanart 50% OC art. i LOVE my ocs so much and so should you, so check out the tags for them and ask lots and lots of questions about them please.

(HERE is where i'll eventually put links to my OC comics and projects when i finally finish them, so look forward to that!)

i also do COMMISSIONS! i can draw for absolutely anything you want, and these days i've been wishing to be commissioned for a T-SHIRT DESIGN, ALBUM COVER, or MUSIC VIDEO... so if my comms are open when you're reading this, GO COMM ME WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!?!?! (BY THE WAY even tho i am a MINOR all comm money goes into an adult relative's paypal account, so your money is 100% SAFE!)

also, if you're wondering how i draw SO WELL... I HAVE AN FAQ!!! SO PLEASE STOP ASKING ME QUESTIONS ABOUT BRUSH SIZES AND SUCH BECAUSE I'VE ALREADY ANSWERED YOU!!!

other than art, my interests include nintendo games like SPLATOON, POKEMON, and the like, other games like TWDG, SKULLGIRLS, LITTLE NIGHTMARES, WORLD'S END CLUB (the best game danganronpa guy ever damn made), and KATAMARI DAMACY, cartoons and comics like INVADER ZIM, JTHM (which everyone should totally read please it's so good), DUNGEON MESHI, MLP, SOUL EATER, FLCL, SCOTT PILGRIM, and DOROHEDORO, and a million i forgot to name, and movies like THE SAW SERIES, SPIDERVERSE, and PROMARE!!!!

also i don't talk about it much, but i love NU METAL... i love KORN, LIMP BIZKIT, KITTIE, COAL CHAMBER, NOTHINGFACE, AND SLIPKNOT as well as many other music artists nu metal or otherwise!!! (notable ones being MCR and literally every vocaloid producer under the sun.) (i will reblog posts from haveyouheardthisband constantly to recommend my followers music, it's my god-given right)

i also LOVE TO HATE (am a critical fan of) DANGANRONPA and COOKIE RUN from time to time...

anyway even tho this is an account mostly for art posting and question answering, i do actually care about serious stuff going on in the world and will reblog posts talking about it sometimes... AND SO SHOULD YOU!!!

also i don't really have a DNI, just don't follow me if you're like. racist or something man that's fuckin' weird... also don't follow me if you're a TERF, NSFW account, or ED/pro-ana account! (SERIOUSLY)

ok i think we're done? cut the cameras

[fishing-lesbian-catgirl]

There are times I think about playing Arknights just to see if it's as gay as your posting makes it seem.

Actually it's probably better just to ask it here. How gay is Arknights?

Well. The answer depends on how willing you are to read into subtext. If you’re the type who only cares about extremely explicit gayness to the degree of them literally saying it out loud or to have their relationship with another woman described in text as a relationship, then I guess the answer would be not that gay. There’s Tomimi who professes her love to Gavial in The Great Chief Returns event, and there’s Scavenger whose operator file describes how she was in love with a woman but they got separated, and by the time she was able to return to her her partner was dead. I think that might actually be it from the “turn to the camera and say ‘I’m gay’” level of gayness.

The reality of Arknights is that, despite all the things it does well (and there are seriously a lot of those, that’s why I’ve become kind of obsessed with it for better or worse), it is still a gacha game. And when the profitability of a game is tied directly to how much you can convince your audience to spend money to get the characters they want, it unfortunately makes them make so frustrating decisions to avoid any potential loss of profits. Specifically I’m referring to how characters are not allowed to be in relationships in text, as self-shippers are a potential revenue source (despite the fact that a character having a girlfriend vs a character being single is a much smaller roadblock to dating then the fact that they’re not real). Also it suffers from the very common problem of lack of body diversity and skin colors, fanart that you see that seems otherwise is likely fanon.

But if you like queer subtext, there’s quite a lot to work with. Especially since so many characters and their relationships with each other lend really well to lesbian readings with fascinating dynamics. Women will straight up flirt with each other in text somewhat frequently depending on the characters. Some women have relationships that are really really hard to read as anything other than lesbian (but people will always find a way, usually by not reading in the first place). It very often turns into a “there is no heterosexual explanation for this” situation. And the important thing to know is that ~80% of the characters are women, a lot of whom are very real characters with stories and everything that is well written and respecting of them (with a few exceptions). The majority of their interactions are with other female characters. If you’re picky about it any only want heavy subtext with minimal reading into it, you’ll have a number of good options of characters and relationships to enjoy, like Margaret Nearl and her two very obviously girlfriends/wives (depending on your interpretation), or Skadi and Specter, or Franka and Liskarm who got an official manhua dedicated to their relationship as mercenary partners that was so gay that the scanlators who put it on mangadex tagged it “Girls’ Love” only for the official translation to make it gayer.

It really is a your mileage may vary situation. If you’re like me and can read into the potential yuri in even the slightest interaction, it’s an unending feast. But if you’re only in it for the explicit canon then you might want to look for something else. Regardless, it is a gacha game but also it is a game with a majority female cast of usually well written characters in stories where they are the focus. Seriously, the first like 6 chapters of the main story only have a few men, most of whom are nameless npcs or antagonists, and even the main antagonists get to be fascinating women a large portion of the time. I know it might sound like I’m scraping the bottom of the barrel here but misogyny is an extremely present force in storytelling and the bar is really low. I can elaborate more if you want me to, but as you can probably tell I’m not good at being succinct, and any further elaboration would be as long and rambly as this

[odysirena]

if you ask me why

masterlist

pairing: lo'ak x gn!metkayina!reader

summary: Lo'ak, your long time friend, asks you to set him up with Tsireya.

tags: mutual pining, (kinda) idiots to lovers (2.6k)

“No.” 

Lo’ak sighs at your response, “Bro! Why not? You literally have nothing to lose!”

Said boy has been trailing you ever since you denied his request to set him up with your best friend. 

You stop walking to give him a pointed stare. The boy shrinking down sheepishly under your gaze, “It has been an hour. Are you not tired of constantly whining like a child?”

You turn around, not waiting for an answer, smiling to yourself when you hear the sound of his footsteps from behind you. “Just tell me why you’re saying no and I’ll stop, I promise.”

Your steps come to a halt at his words causing his body crashing with yours. Ow, shit, bro what the fuck?! Ow, ow, ow.

“Stop whining and maybe I will,” Lo’ak straightens his back, assuming a salute position before he realises you have no knowledge when it comes to human military.

He racks his brain and rummages through memories for something to say that would hold significance to you, “Do you pinky promise?”

Lo’ak’s smile grows wider at the memory that’s been resurfaced by the simple question. He watches as the corners of your mouth twitch into an almost smile. 

(You’ve been giving him a lot of those lately, he collects every image his mind is able to capture and stores them in a box, pulling them up when he’s down, convincing himself that he’s only remembering the memory of your almost smiles because the jokes that led to them were funny.)

The serious nod that you respond to his question with has him mirroring the expression on your face, the smile quickly returns though.

Because you wrap your hand around his fourth finger, pulling at it lightly before you seriously say, “Your pinky finger is now mine.”

It takes everything in him to hold in his laugh at your display. 

He will never admit it but a small part of him is endeared. Your willingness to indulge in his humanity with no prejudice despite your friends’ opinions always makes him feel grateful.

No one will ever be able to claw this out of him but any time he’s particularly down, he always thinks of that day. 

The day he let someone fully hold his hand without pulling away. 

He was having a particularly bad day. Payakan was away, he got in trouble with his dad, the icing on the cake? Ao’nung’s friend called him a freak again. 

Your consolation came with a mask of curiosity. 

He knows your curiosity didn’t pop up randomly.

Because nothing about anything you did was ever random, it’s almost like your very being was fueled by pure intention. 

Well-timed dialogues, perfectly executed jokes, compliments disguised as insults. 

The next thing he knew he was laughing, the sour cloud over his head dispersing without him even noticing. 

So when you asked him about his fourth finger, he responded with a joke. 

(In his defence, how was he supposed to know you’d believe him when he said that wrapping a hand around the fourth finger and pretending to pull it off sealed a promise?)

A part of him thinks you know, another, content with ignorant bliss. 

“I like you, Lo’ak.”

Your statement effectively shakes him off the rabbit hole of a memory, his eyes widening and jaw going slack in the process.

“Excuse me?” Lo’ak says uselessly.

You should see yourself right now.

Your heart feels like it’s going to leave your body and bury itself at the bottom of the ocean.

Your mind feels like it's going to explode with how fast it's racing, coming up with ways to rationalise your sudden confession.

But all an outsider would see is the tilt of your head. Emotions tucked away from your face, buried behind the person you've spent years being.

“You asked me why I don’t want to ‘set you up’ with Tsireya?” Another tilt of head at an attempt at indifference, “Did you already forget? You trailed me around for an hour?”

You stare at his dumbfounded face and realise he wouldn’t be able to form a response within the next minute. So you smile to yourself and turn to leave.

You pause, turning around slowly and reaching for a hand. The same one you plucked a pinky finger out of. 

You make a display of returning it, smiling up at him as you do, “I told you I wouldn’t break it.”

Later, if asked why you turned down his request in favour of telling him you like him, the answer would be simple. 

Why would you push him towards another person when you want him for yourself?

–

“There’s just no way,” Kiri and Neteyam say in unison. 

Lo’ak huffs and rolls his eyes, “Guys! I swear I’m not joking.” 

When the two don’t budge, he turns to their youngest, “Tuk! You believe me right?”

Tuk scrunches her face, “I don’t know,” she trails off, “aren’t they a bit too good for you?”

Her statement brings a laugh out of Neteyam and Kiri. Lo’ak rolls his eyes but the smile on his face is difficult to miss. 

“Okay wait, let me clarify,” Kiri says, walking towards him as she does, “You were begging them to set you up with Tsireya,” Lo’ak nods slowly, “And when they refused and you asked why and they said it was because they ‘like’ you,” Kiri’s quotation marks warrant another eye roll from Lo’ak. 

Lo’ak knows it sounds ridiculous. He wouldn’t believe it to be real himself if his heart wasn’t currently suffering from the repercussions of the smile you gave him.

So he aggressively nods his head at Kiri, “Yes! Bro! Exactly!”

Kiri looks between him and Neteyam, her jaw slacked, “Oh. He’s not joking.”

“You skxawng, why would you ask them to set you up with Tsireya?” Neteyam asks, amusement obvious in his voice.

The question has Lo’ak throwing his hands up in the air, “What do you mean why? Is it forbidden?”

Kiri shrugs, “Not really,” she gives him a teasing look, “But why are you asking the person you like to set you up with another girl?”

Lo’ak screeches, “The person I– WHAT?!” 

His siblings laugh at him as he stands mortified. 

Their parents call them from inside the marui, something about food being ready.

Before Neteyam follows their sisters to go inside, he grabs the back of Lo’ak’s head with a smile on his face, “Perhaps you’re in need of some introspection brother.”

–

Ao’nung was starting to get annoyed. 

When you barged in on him weaving and told him you would wait till he’s done–fully understanding that the activity required utmost patience–he was grateful. 

The sound of your footsteps filling the empty area as you pace back and forth has his fingers slipping up and making more mistakes than he’d like.

He sighs in relief when Näyì, the third member of your trio, enters the marui. Putting the straws down and cracking his knuckles before he speaks, “Thank Eywa, please put me out of my misery.”

You stop pacing and stick your tongue out at him–a habit you picked up from Tuk–before you turn to Näyì. 

“I accidentally told Lo’ak I like him.” 

The words’ effects are immediate. Ao’nung gives you a look of disbelief and Näyì gives you a look of amusement.  

“You don’t do accidents,” Ao’nung says. Näyì nods in agreement before she hums, “He must really drive you crazy then.”

Näyì suddenly gasps, “Wait. . Did he. . reject you?” 

Ao’nung scoffs at her display, rolling his eyes before saying, “He’s as crazy for them as they are with him. Do you not see the heart eyes he sends their way when he thinks nobody’s looking?”

You give Ao’nung a look, “No?”

A sigh leaves your mouth, “I mean, he didn’t reject me. . .”

“Then why do you look so dejected?” Näyì asks.

Ao’nung’s face twists into a playful grin, “Are you sad because you’re now stuck with him?”

You shove him, ignoring the whine he lets out, you collect your thoughts, voice dropping to a whisper when you finally speak.

“I told him I like him after he asked me to set him up with ‘reya.”

The response you receive is mixed.

“YOU DID WHAT?!”

“Oh that boy better stay away from my sister.”

You flinch at their exaggerated displays, letting them calm down to allow the words to properly sink.

When Ao’nung finally stops laughing like a maniac at the idea of his little sister with Lo’ak, Näyì turns to you.

“Explain.”

You shrug, “What else is there to say? I’ll be fine if he and Tsireya ever get together,” you ignore Ao’nung’s barfing gesture, “but I don’t really want to have a hand at it, you know? Why shove them closer together if I know it’s going to fill me with regret eventually?”

The duo takes your words in, the silence being broken by Näyì when she hums, “how about the part where you told him you like him.”

A sheepish expression is placed on your face, “That part’s the accident.”

Ao’nung gives you a look, “But I don’t think it was an accident, is it?” You blink up at him, “You told him you like him so he could consider your feelings.” Your mouth slightly hangs at his observations, “You want him to know so you don’t feel regret later on, and now you’re worried because he could reject you.”

He pats your back playfully, “I don’t know why you’re worrying so much though.”

You roll your eyes at him, “Did you forget the part where he asked me to set him up with your sister?”

Näyì snorts at your question, “He has never smiled at ‘Reya the same way he smiles when you’re around.”

Ao’nung nods in agreement, “Tell you what. Why don’t you try to see for yourself?” You widen your eyes in question, “Hang around him and Tsireya, you’ve always been perceptive, this shouldn’t be any different.”

You open your mouth to answer but he’s already shushing you, ushering you and Näyì out of the marui so he can continue weaving.

Once you’re walking side by side with Näyì, she tells you, “He does have a point though. It’s fine to be sceptical but you might end up regretting it.” 

You know it’s a trap to get you to follow through Ao’nung’s plan. But when the word regret leaves your mouth you know you’ve fallen into it.

–

The next time Lo’ak sees you, Tsireya is on your side.

You would be lying if you said that the sight of his body going rigid once he takes notice of you isn’t amusing. 

“Hello, Lo’ak.” The greeting comes from Tsireya and Lo’ak has to force his eyes away from your figure to greet her back.

When they’re done sharing pleasantries, you speak.

“You told me you needed extra practice for your rites of passage, didn’t you?” You smile at him sweetly, the sight of it making his stomach flutter, his body acting against his will yet again.

“I was telling ‘reya about it and she gladly offered!” Tsireya opens her mouth to correct you, to say you asked me to do this as a favour? 

Please just go along with it, you say with your eyes, hoping it reaches her. When your best friend closes her mouth, you turn to look at Lo’ak.

He’s already looking at you. It surprises you that he doesn’t look away–like he usually does when you catch him staring–clouded eyes locked on your features.

You cough. Gesturing for him to join your friend that’s already in the water.

When he still doesn’t budge, you raise your hand to lightly push him towards the water. 

But you never get the chance to, because he catches your arms and tells Tsireya he’ll be back. 

The girl nods, but once the two of you are out of sight, she moves to leave. A knowing smile on her face, knowing better than to wait when it was you he left with.

“Lo’ak–” You start, letting him pull you towards a secluded area on the shore. 

When he finds a spot away from prying ears, he turns to look at you, “What are you doing?” 

The playful smile on your face drops when you see the serious expression planted on his face. 

How did things stray so far from your plan? It was supposed to be simple. Have him and Tsireya hang out, observe them from afar, and finally, draw a conclusion.

But now both Tsireya  and the playful boy you know are nowhere to be found. 

Standing in front of you is someone you’ve only seen three times. The intense look on his face makes him feel unfamiliar.

He drops the hand he was holding and paces in front of you.

“What are you doing?” He asks again, desperation clear in his voice.

You clear your throat in an attempt to steady yourself. You don’t look at him when you speak, afraid he’d find a trace of weakness in your face with how intensely he’s staring.

“I don’t understand why you’re. . frustrated,” his pacing comes to a stop and you find your body looking at him against your orders, “didn’t you ask for this?”

Your eyes lock and you watch as the clouds forming in his eyes clear up. 

“Did you lie?” He asks suddenly.

He sees your confused look, “When you told me you liked me, was it a lie?”

You find your body moving to shake your head before you can even speak, “No, I–”

“Then why are you doing this?” 

Because I couldn’t stand to wait to know if you would reject me.

I had to see if you wanted her enough to not consider me. 

Is what you would say if you didn’t have pride to protect. He wouldn’t be able to claw that information from you even if he begs. Liar. The tiny voice in your head calls you out. You would learn to fly if he asked. 

You don’t really want to lie, so you answer with another question instead, “Do you not want this anymore?”

It’s a loaded question and you both know it. 

When he doesn’t respond, you get so frustrated that words leave your mouth before you could think them over.

“I have liked you the moment you fell off your ilu during your first week here.” You turn your back on him before you continue, afraid of how he’d react to you baring your soul to him, “I like you when you’re making stupid jokes and references I don’t understand. I like you when you’re breaking rules, something I could never do. I like your bravery and your conviction; your ability to stand up for the things you want.” 

You pause.

“I like you even if it scares me.” 

You feel a hand on your shoulder, it spins you around, forcing you to stare at Lo’ak in the eye and then. . . laughter. Your face scrunches into displeasure, watching as he throws his head back. 

When he calms down, he takes notice of your unimpressed expression and rushes to explain yourself, “No– shit– fuck– no, I’m not making fun of you.” 

He sighs, moving his hands so they’re holding yours. When he sees your face soften, he continues, “I think the main reason I was so. . in denial with my feelings was because they were too strong. It scared me. The feeling is as intense as the love I have for my family but it’s different.”

He pulls you in an embrace, kissing the crown of your head before he speaks, “I’m sorry it took me this long to notice.”

You hum, “I’m sorry too,” you move your head from its position on his chest in favour of looking at him, “I knew and I didn’t tell you sooner.”

He repositions the two of you so you’re both facing the sunset, your back against his chest and his hands making their way home around your waist.

The sun sets and Lo’ak finds that he’s fine with it. 

Because on your face rests constellations that are begging to be explored.

A/N: not proofread… anyways! i was supposed to work on requests but this idea came to mind and i just .. had to write it! i’ll definitely get around to them soon! as always! reblogs and replies are appreciated! thank you for reading :)

permanent taglist: @nao-cchi

[mybelovedwoo]

in which you drank more than you could handle

wooyoung x f!reader

fluff, angst, established relationship / wc: 2k

warnings: drinking irresponsibly, unconsciousness, mention of throwing up, passing out, injuries, blood, mention of food

note: this is where my last headcanon came from. if you haven't read it yet you can find it here:) if you want to be tagged in any of my fics you can enter here <3

wooyoung mastelist - main masterlist

You are somewhere between dreamland and reality when you feel the strong sunshine burning your eyelids. Usually, you have very intense dreams, but today you woke up not remembering any of them, you feel like you just had the best sleep in a very long time. You turn over to the other side so you can finally open your eyes without getting blind.

When you open both eyes, you feel as if your head is about to split open. You wonder what is this terrible headache, maybe you are getting sick? You start thinking back to what you did yesterday, that made you feel this way, but you don't remember much after you went out for dinner with your friends.

You try to sit up, but to do that, you have to support yourself up because your head is pulling you back to bed. You slip into your warm slippers and head toward the kitchen. Your bag and shoes from last night are on the floor in the living room. And you finally reach your destination in the kitchen, you see the huge mess there, you swear to god you left everything clean when you left yesterday. When did you even have time or ability to cook?

You just need a coffee and you will be fine, you think. But before that, you make your way to the bathroom, because you don't know how much water you drank yesterday, but you really need to pee ever since you woke up. When you enter the bathroom, you are greeted by a very interesting sight. The sink is full of bloody tissues. You got really scared. Are you injured by any chance somewhere? You look over every part of your body, but nowhere do you see anything unusual, except for some purple bruises.

You are deep in your thoughts when you leave the room, and just then the front door opens and your boyfriend enters your apartment, in his hands there is a bag full of things.

"Oh, are you up already?" He is surprised. He walks over to the kitchen counter and puts everything down from his hands. Then he walks up to you. "How are you feeling?" He asks.

The frames of last night suddenly play through your mind.

You run to the door when you hear someone ringing your doorbell nonstop. You already know who it is, who is so impatient, that can't wait even a minute for you to get there in a normal space.

"Omg, Wooyoung I gave you a key for a reason. You can use it whenever you like, you know that right?" You open the door for him, with hands on your hips.

"But I can't possibly know what you're doing in there, what if I interrupt something?" You can see a mischievous look on his face. "You just like it if I open the door for you, aren't you?" You already know him well enough to know he has other intentions.

"I like it when you greet me with a kiss, what's wrong with that?" He said it with a pouty voice. He is seriously so cute, you think. "So where is my kiss then?" You made a quick peck on his lips and pulled him inside. "What is this big rush, that I can't even get a proper kiss from my girlfriend?"

"The others are already there Babe. I hate to be late you know that." You said as you were putting on your shoes and your jacket. When you're finally ready to go you pull Wooyoung out of your apartment by his hands and literally rushed to the restaurant.

As you said before everyone else was there already, they had a really big table for themself. Yunho was the first one who noticed that you have arrived. "Oh, the real party finally came!" He shouted, and everybody turned towards you.

"You couldn't wait for me to arrive, aren't you?" Wooyoung felt flustered by his mates' comments, suddenly he became all smiley. "Not you, you dumbass. Y/N! She is more fun than anybody here." Hongjoong confessed while Wooyoung seemed really disappointed, so you grabbed his hands and squeezed them to cheer him up.

"Come Y/n, you're already behind us, you have to have at least one drink with each one of us." Jongho speaks from behind, everybody seems tipsy already. 

"Can I at least order my food first?" You joked with them, sitting down at the end of the table with your boyfriend. 

After a couple of hours, you really did drink with all eight of your friends and even beyond that. Of all the people, it was Mingi who was almost at the same level as you. He grabbed the bottle and poured another round for the two of you, but your boyfriend took the glass away from you before you could drink it. "I think she had enough for today." And he drank that shot himself. It was known that Wooyoung handled alcohol very well, but he didn't drink that much tonight on purpose. When he drinks with you, he never dares to relax, not because he feels tense or something, but because he wants to be himself around you all the time and take care of you if something goes wrong.

"Come on man! Don't be such a party killer. Y/n is a big girl, she can decide for herself, right?" Mingi didn't have any bad intentions, but little did he know, you definitely had enough to drink, because you heard everything, but weren't able to answer. It's like someone is blocking your brain and the ability to speak up.

Wooyoung put your arms around his neck, so it would be easier for you to get up, he didn't dare to let go of you. "Hey Sweetheart, can you get up on your own?" He whispered to your ears, he didn't want anybody else to hear, because he knew you would get embarrassed. You looked up at him and said "Of course I can, but I like it better in your arms Handsome" with the biggest smile on your face.

Your boyfriend is so glad that you are drunk now and can't make fun of how flustered he got by your sudden flirting, but he couldn't deal with that right now. He had one thing on his mind and that is he needs to get you home safe.

While he was calling for a taxi, you were clinging to his waist the whole time, to stay balanced. The ride home was a whole other journey, that Wooyoung thought was the most stressful experience of his life so far. The battle of you throwing up or not, with a fully open window and the slowest drive ever, he couldn't believe when he got out of the car in front of your apartment complex that he survived.

When you got into your apartment, you said that you felt completely fine now, and he could go home if he wanted to. He knew from this sentence that you weren't fine at all because you would never refuse a sleepover with him, he knew how much you loved when he cuddled you to sleep.

"Baby, what about you taking a really good shower then I put you to bed, hm?" He was so desperate to complete this mission.

"But I'm really hungry...I think I'll cook something." You opened the fridge and started to get some stuff out that didn't really make sense, like a couple of eggs, ketchup, and orange juice. It is a known fact that you cannot cook, but somehow you felt the sudden urge to learn it in the middle of the night. Wooyoung walked up to you and took the knife away from your hand, he knew it is already dangerous in your hand in general, not speaking when you were drunk, the sight terrified him. "What if I cook you something until you have your shower?" He couldn't believe he had to cook you dinner, after having dinner at the restaurant.

"So you're not gonna join me, huh?" He was surprised by your boldness, he really liked it when you acted like this on any other occasion. But he knew he can't do that, not when you are in a state like this. "Not today." But he gave a small peck on your lips.

-

Wooyoung was almost done with his Haejangguk when he heard a loud thud coming from the bathroom. At first, he didn't know what it could be, but knowing you, how clumsy you are, he knew something was wrong. He immediately ran up to the door and knocked on it. "Hey, is everything okay there?" He did want to just break the door in you. But when he didn't get an answer he had no other choice, and when he opened the door his worst nightmare was in front of his eyes, something that only happens in nightmares. You passed out right in the middle of the shower.

He never was this afraid in his life, he opened the shower door, the water was still running. The first thing he checked was if you had any injuries, you might have hit your head badly, so he was ready to rush into the hospital. But gladly he didn't find any injuries on your body. He pulled you out of that cold shower cabin and close the water. He accidentally cut himself on the big chaos with his razor on the sink when he was looking for your towel, at the moment he was the least concerned about that. He took a handful of tissues and wiped the blood off his wound.

"You joined after all?" He felt like he could breathe again when he heard your voice. He hugged you tightly to himself. 

He wrapped you up in a towel, and swooped you up in his arms then brought you to your bed. He found the perfect pajamas for you, it was your comfiest one, and he helped you put it on. Then when he pulled your blanket all the way up to your neck he couldn't help himself but admire your face for a little while. "Please don't scare me like this ever again." He stroked a piece of hair out of your face, but you were already dozing off.

-

Oh fuck, last night was an actual nightmare. You took Wooyoung's hand in yours to take a closer look. And there it is, that cut from last night. "How is your hand?" You ask very concerned. You feel very guilty, it's partly your fault.

"Do you remember what happened?" You wish you would not remember anything, maybe then it would be easier to face the people from yesterday. This whole situation is just so embarrassing, you knew you were not a heavy- weighted drinker before, but this never happened before.

"Unfortunately." You say quietly, maybe he wouldn't hear it. You must have been such a pain in the ass for poor Wooyoung. And what are the others think of you right now? You would rather bury yourself in the deepest hole if you could. "I'm so sorry." You looked down ashamed.

"Don't worry, it happens to everyone sometimes. The others are in worse conditions, I think you won after all." His words comforted you a little, but there was still a thing that bothered you. 

"You haven't answered me yet. So how is your hand? Does it hurts a lot?" You placed your palms on his chest, while he was looking for the right words to say because he didn't want you to worry too much about him. "It's not that bad I swear. I was just careless." Huhh if he was careless, then what were you? "I'm more worried about your head, to be honest. Do you feel anything unusual?" He strokes your head gently.

"It hurts a lot, but it's nothing more than a simple hangover." He placed a soft kiss on your cheek as you reassured him. 

The rumbling of your stomach ruined this intimate moment. "Are you hungry? I made some Haejangguk last night." Ohh so it was him, mystery solved. Then you didn't miraculously learn how to cook in the middle of the night. What a pity.

-

taglist* @laylasbunbunny @yeow6n (you can message me if you want to be added or removed)

[0-sparkling-lace-0]

The Lab Assistant

Hey! Before I start I'd like to introduce myself. You can call me winky, or wink, or luna. Also, I'd like to say in no way shape or form am I a writer. I dabbled in it when I was younger, it's been well over 5/6 years since I've written anything, though. So that being said, I wrote this years ago on a Tumblr account that I had that is now deactivated, because I personally wasn't happy with my work.

sigh

Always the critic. Anyways, I found this in an OLD ASS Google doc, and decided to read it again. Um, why I thought it was bad is beyond me. I was like 18-19 when I wrote this, and thought it was terrible. It's not the best, but for someone who was literally only just starting to write, I'm not sure it's that bad. Also, I'd like to say that my interests have steered away from Rick & Morty since having written this, so I don't really see myself writing for this fandom again. If you like it, please let me know! Also before I start, here are some warnings and tags.

MDNI. WC:1.8k RickSanchez x LabAssistant!Reader/AFAB!Reader/Age Gap/Use of Y/N/Masturbation/(Maybe slight degradation? If not let me know.)/Oral (Giving&Recieving)/Pet Names(Use of Daddy, baby girl ect-nothing too extreme)/(if I've forgotten anything, let me know!) Also it's been so long that I've been in this fandom or have read any fanfiction with Rick involved. If it's fell out of touch to write him with burping and or his usual stutters, I'm so sorry. That's probably the only thing that made me cringe while re-reading this.

It was a day like any other, as I helped Rick with whatever he needed. "Screwdriver." He said with a gruff voice. Before I walked over to the box that held his tools, I peered over his shoulder to see what exactly it was that he was working on. Mildly interested, I grabbed him the screwdriver and handed it to him. "Final touches..." He announced finally after an entire day of working on whatever it was that he was working on. "Finished!" He shouted. I was excited to see what it was, finally. "So, what is it?" I ask curiously. He smirks at me, giving me wild eyes that I'm easily intimidated by. "It's a de-device that can-burp- read your mind." I step back cautiously. Usually, I'd be the first to offer myself up as a guinea pig-bearing in mind that there's no way he can delve into my mind and discover the parts of me that I wouldn't want him to see. I always sense he knows that I have feelings for him, but he never brings it up because I'm a third his age. Even if that's the case, I can't take the chance. "No, I don't want you in my mind." He laughs. "Why not? Have some d-deep dark secret that you don't want people to know about?" I narrow my eyes at him, giving him a look that says back off. "Maybe I do. But seriously, I don't want to test this one." He sighs an upset sigh. "Alright. Maybe I can bribe-burp- Morty into doing it later. It's been a long day, let's go to-to bed." I give him a sad smile before I apologize and waltz out of the garage door and into the kitchen. "Goodnight, Y/N." I looked at the clock above the sink and realized it's only 8:30. "You're really going to bed? Why don't you hang out with me a little? We can watch Ball Fondlers together." I smile at him with questioning eyes, not wanting him to go to bed yet. I'd spent the whole day with him and I still want to be near him. He gave me a dirty look before lugging himself up the stairs. Maybe I made him mad when I told him I didn't want to test the mind reader. I frowned before grabbing something to eat and heading upstairs. I grabbed my TV remote once settled in my cozy bed and turned on Netflix. I kept the volume on low, not wanting to disturb Rick and make him even more upset towards me. 2 episodes in I started to hear mumbling. Wait, no, was it moaning? Someone must bewatching a movie, or something. I try not to think about it as I pay attention to my show.After a while, it starts to get louder and my thoughts interrupt my concentration. "I can't deal with this." I hop off my bed and walk out into the hallway, following the sound. But as I get closer, I realize the moaning isn't coming from a TV. I look over to Rick's bedroom door and see it cracked a bit. I tiptoe over to it and slightly peek through. Immediately my face flushes red at the sight. Rick, on his bed with his pants and his boxers to his knees, hand furiously tugging at his member. I had to cover my mouth to not moan at the view in front of me. He's a moaning mess. I slowly start to feel myself get wet with every passing second. This is wrong, so wrong. I shouldn't be invading his privacy like this. But I just can't tear my eyes away. "Fuuucck, Y/N..." My eyes got wide and how could I possibly get wetter than I was already? I could feel the wet patch forming in my jeans. My free hand went down to touch my clothed core. I had to bite my hand to keep myself from making any noise, this was too good to be true, I didn't want to lose it. My confidence boosted as I heard my name being called once again. I grabbed the door handle and thought about it one more time before finally making my decision. I swung the door open as I said: "You do realize I'm less than half your age, old man." He jumped and looked startled before he smirked at me; not the reaction I was expecting. "How long have you b-been listening?" I hopped up on the bed and crawled over to him. "Long enough to know that you're lusting after me, your lab assistant-how taboo." He chuckled darkly before saying:

"Not my fault you have killer tits, babe." I looked down to my chest and then back up to him before smiling. "Really? You think I have nice tits?" "Don't flatter yourself. I know you have a -burp- huge crush on me." I sat back on my heels with a frown on my lips before I said: "Well, from the look of it, it seems that you've one on me too." I gestured to his throbbing cock, still on display. "Like I said, killer tits." A thought popped into my head before I grabbed the hem of my spaghetti strap tank top and pulled it over my head, not wearing a bra. I heard his breath hitch in his throat. I raised my eyebrow in a challenge. "Fuck it." He breathed before grabbing the back of my neck and pulling me closer into a kiss. Not a gentle one, but an all consuming, hungry one. I kissed back with fervor. He pulled his hand up to my tit and ran the pad of his thumb over my nipple. I reached down between his legs to grab his aching cock and pumped him. He grunted and bit my bottom lip. I stole a glance into his wild, lust blown pupils. He pulled away from the kiss to shove my head downwards. "Suck it." I let out an angry breath through my nostrils. "You can boss me around in the garage, but not in the bedroom." "Hah! You act li-like I'm paying you-you for hard work." I grabbed the base of his cock and squeezed slighty while he hissed in slight pain. "Don't dare treat me like a 2 cent whore, ask nicely and you'll get what you want." He let out an annoyed sigh before saying "Please dear, would you su-suck my dick." Although I'd like it to be less sarcastic and more sincere, I want to get this show on the road. So I take his tip into my mouth and give it kitten licks to tease and get my revenge.

He twines his hand through my hair and pushes my head all the way down. After pausing slightly to gain control of myself, I started to bob my head up and down. His hips started to move on their own. The only thing I could do was relax my jaw in order to not hurt him while he face fucked me. Soon enough he was twitching in my mouth and I could tell that he was close, so I stopped. "What the fuck are you doing?!" "I don't want you to cum yet. Like you said, I have a crush on you too, where's my fun?" "You little bitch." He said before grabbing me and flipping me onto my back. "You like tea-teasing me? Huh?" I giggled before saying, "Yes, I do." He growled before ripping down my jeans and panties all in one go. "You're my assistant. I'm above you. Where's your respect?" All I could do is laugh. "You don't intimidate me, Rick. Now are you gonna keep babbling or are you gonna shove your face where it belongs?" Taking jabs at each other was a normal thing for us, but in a scenario like this? It only made me love him more. He gave me a look that could kill before he finally lowered his head. He started at my knees, giving me soft open mouthed kisses and traveled slowly up to my inner thighs. I was starting to get impatient. I sat up on my elbows and said: "Just get on with it." He shot me a smile. "Oh no, babe. I'm gonna-gonna make you beg." I laid back down with a huff. He laughed softly. I could feel his breath on me now. Finally, he took a long stripe up the center of me. I put my hand over my mouth, hoping he wouldn't see, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. He then started to suckle on my sensitive nub and I whimpered somewhat loudly into my hand. He looked up, angry. "None of that, baby. I want to-to hear you." When I didn't listen to him, he stopped. I whined at the loss of contact. "What? You wa-want me to keep going? Like I said, beg -burp- for it, honey." I looked in his eyes a long while before finally saying, "Please." "Nuh-uh. You gotta beg." He grazed his hand over my clit before quickly taking it away, and that was enough to make me want more. I grabbed his neck, pulled him closer to me, and whispered into his ear, "Please, Daddy." "Fuuuck. God, I can't wait-wait any longer." He rubbed his cock against my entrance a few times before finally pushing himself in. My arm flew over my face before I could moan out loud.

He growled once he saw and grabbed both my wrists and pinned them above my head. Once he was all the way in, he leaned down to my ear. "Is Daddy big enough for ya, baby doll?" I was lost. I couldn't hold back any longer. "Yes, fuck Daddy. You're so big." He laughed before pulling back out and ramming himself back into me. He took his hands to the backs of my thighs, lifting them and pressing them up, my knees close to my chest. "F-Fuck!" I moaned loudly into his shoulder. He started at a slow pace, over time growing impatient and speeding up. I swear I could feel the tip kissing my cervix, he was so deep. Before long I could feel the enticing feeling in my stomach start to pool, my walls around him beginning to clench. "You close, sweet-sweetheart?" All I could do is nod furiously, as words were beyond my comprehension. "Good, cum with Daddy. C'mon baby-baby girl. That's it." That was all I needed to be pushed over the edge. I felt him cumming along with me as I looked up at him to see his face contorted with pleasure, filling me up with his load. Panting, I grabbed his face and pulled it down to me, giving him a loving kiss. After a while of heavy breathing, he rolled away from me. I sat onto my side to look at him. When we caught eye contact he rolled his eyes. "C-C'mere." I smiled wide before nuzzling my face into his chest. He was playing with my hair before I looked up at him and said, "So, Ball Fondlers?"

[writtenontheport]

Just a Night at Portland Row

(pt.1) (pt.2)

Anthony Lockwood x (gn) Reader

Warnings/Tags: Literal romcom, These people are silly, Everyone’s so sillycore here, teary confessions, someone accidentally confesses, nothing dramatic happens he’s just silly, Childhood friends to lovers, Lockwood is kinda stupid (affectionate), no smut or suggestive content, Lockwood and co and reader friendship, whether or not what Lockwood says at the end actually happens is up to you!!

Notes: I have quite a few issues with this one, and I’m not entirely satisfied with it, but I think it’s one of the better ways I could go about it. I also put all the flowers meanings at the bottom, so if you were curious I did in fact plan the flower meanings (I am a nerd). This finale has gone through about 20 revisions on the first day alone, so if anything seems jarringly out of place, I am so sorry 😭 I was all over the place with my ideas.

Summary: Just before supper time, you and Lockwood have a heart to heart, and it starts as it always has: with flowers, with tears, and a little funny thing called love.

word count: 2.4k+

“George,” Lockwood says seriously. It’s the first time George has ever seen him so serious about something that isn’t Lucy or him dying and it shocks him how quick he is to steel himself for whatever it is. “I need you to get Lucy to bring them down here, if you can, please.”

Now, ‘them’ is obviously referring to you, who’s laughing away upstairs with Lucy so loud they can hear it ring through the vents. If this wasn’t something George has genuinely been excited for, he would have smacked Lockwood upside the head for using that terrifying tone. “Don’t say it like that, prick. Thought someone was dying there.”

Lockwood grins at him from where he’s messing with the bouquet stood up on the table. The paper wrapping hasn’t been removed, courtesy of the empty vase and that water would most likely melt it; ribbon still intact. They stand, not quite fully in bloom (which is the best way to buy flowers, because otherwise they wilt right away) but just on the precipice of it. It’s packed with other, smaller additions, but at the heart of it, well. Maybe Lockwood did know something about the language of flowers.

“How’d you even pick them out?” George asks instead, watching Lockwood’s grin wobble.

“I made friends with the shopkeeper. He wouldn’t tell me what any of them meant, but he said they were good flowers— like the carnations. One of them though… these white ones here, just felt familiar somehow.” He kept messing about with the bouquet, meddling with any loose leaf or bud. “Can you please go get them? I want them to be able to see the flowers before they wilt.”

George does swat Lockwood for that, but he goes upstairs to get you. You and Lucy have moved to her room on George’s urging (he made Lockwood wait outside before coming in to make sure you didn’t know) and were lying in her bed on your stomachs, reading and sharing books. Lucy’s the first to look up at him, raising a brow as she nudges you.

“George? Everything ok?” You ask, propping yourself up to sit criss cross on the mattress. “Has Anthony come back yet?”

“He has,” he says simply, “He says he needs you in the kitchen. Lucy should stay since she must be tired from the case yesterday.”

From behind you, Lucy has a moment of realization that has her tucking her lips to hide a smile. Quietly, she puts a hand up to her forehead in a salute to George.

“You should go check,” she says, “Who knows what kind of trouble he might be in.”

“A lot of trouble,” George adds, nodding slightly along. You narrow your eyes in suspicion, but you get up off the bed.

“I’ll save your place!” She calls just as you’re headed down. George walks 2 steps behind you to hide his expression before he can school it, feeling giddy with nerves that aren’t even his to have. He wonders how Lockwood’s doing, stopping just at his bedroom door.

You turn back, asking “You aren’t coming?”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine.” He rocks gently on his feet and pulls his hands behind his back, reassuring you with a calm nod. “Off you go, Lockwood’s probably burnt himself making tea by now or something.”

“I’d hope not…” you mumble, each step down like a crescendo in the world’s most suspenseful piece of music— every floorboard creak like the lead instrument and your heartbeat acting a steady base. On a sheet you’re sure it looks hideous, but it levels out when you open the door and Lockwood’s waiting there by the counter, looking like he’s straight off a magazine. The silence creeps in, but the piece rises to new heights as the sound of everything— the floorboards, the vents— suddenly dulls out.

You step into the kitchen, and let the door shut behind you.

There is your Anthony, standing there in the middle of the kitchen with a bouquet full of dazzling pink tulips, red roses, and spots of white jasmine flowers. There is Anthony, the boy you’ve known and loved for years— looking at you like he always does: like you’re the whole world and sky and everything he wakes up for.

Neither of you speak for a good minute, but it’s not without trying. Lockwood spends that pregnant pause fumbling for words, before—

“I love you,” He says.

The words come rushing out his lips, hurried and desperate. It shocks you how simply he puts it, like a sudden rest in the notes that takes you by surprise. He looks surprised too; horrified, really, that he’s just blurted that out. He swallows thickly, steeling his expression into something determined.

“I—“ you pause, the words caught in your throat, blood pounding in your ears. You think you tear up, but you can’t really tell when the whole world narrows down to Anthony Lockwood across from you in the kitchen of Portland Row, professing his love in the spur of the moment. You grow warm with affection, taking a step closer to him as the music of your singing heart drowns out everything but his words.

He takes a deep breath, his face pale with fear as he swallows and says quietly,, “Today, when I went down to the shops to get you these flowers, I met the really old man tending to them. Don’t look at me like that, he was really old, alright?”

“Anthony,” you scold quietly, tutting at him as you wrap your hands around his.

He bites the inside of his cheek before he keeps going. “Anyways he isn’t the point— I brought him up because he made me realise that I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I never gave telling you a shot. He lived loving someone else until they died— even after they did, and if… if there was a chance I could have that with you, I wanted to take it. I can’t promise you that I’ll be alive for as long as you will be, but I can promise you that I will love you for everyday I live and breathe if you let me.”

“Anthony,” you start, breathlessly. You take his face in your hands and he puts the bouquet down to cover your hands with his. He looks so scared like this, fragile like glass in your hands and pale with nerves.

“I can’t promise you forever,” He says solemnly, “But I can promise you my heart for as long as it beats.”

You take a deep breath through your nose, and will yourself not to kiss him. Years down to minutes— minutes to seconds. The silence hangs like a winding note. You glance back quickly at the bouquet, picking out one of the jasmine flowers before sliding it behind his ear and resting your hands on his face.

“Do you remember the first flower I gave you?” You ask just as quietly. He shakes his head, cheeks rubbing against the skin of your palms. “We were… quite young at the time, and I must have been mad, because I stole it from the neighbour’s garden. Yes, the grumpy one, you remember her. Well, I ran straight over from all the way from home with this crumpled little thing in hand— stop giggling. I’m telling you an important story— and you lit up like a light. Cheeky little thing you were, finding a way to give it back to me when I got scolded the same day for stealing and I was awful sore about the whole thing.”

“You looked all sad,” He cut in, voice hoarse in a mumble, “It made me happy, so I wanted it to make you happy too.”

You laugh, just as breathless, “And it worked, Anthony. It’s still one of my favourite flowers. Did you know that? They were the first flowers I read up on when I learned flowers could have meanings.”

“What’d you find?” He asks, the nerves fading into a hopefulness that fills his eyes with stars. It’s helplessly endearing where you see them shine, nearly nose to nose with how close you’re holding him.

You hum and close your eyes, pushing your forehead against his. “We gave each other white jasmine flowers, that day. A lot of people say they mean purity or innocence, but the one that stuck out to me was that people say it meant “everlasting love” too. When I look back on it now, it must’ve been fate.”

“Cause I always loved you and you probably realised that with how stupid I get about you?”He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close.

You chuckle quietly, just as helplessly lost, “Not quite. I didn’t even think there was a chance you could love me back, though that does make everything a bit easier… because I’ve always loved you, Anthony.”

Like a child on Christmas day, Lockwood’s eyes grow wide; he’s helpless to the grin that splits his face. “Really?”

“I’m no liar, Anthony, and certainly not about this,” you laugh, unable to help yourself as you tip back and rest your nose lightly against his.

“No like— you mean it?” He asks, voice cracking with hope as he searches your face, “You love me? You love me?”

You’re helplessly endeared, helplessly in love and helplessly lost to it, so you just whisper back with a grin as wide, “Yes, Anthony. I love you.”

What little space between you both is gone in a second when he pushes his lips against yours. It’s a desperate thing, all relief and comfort and love pouring out. At some point, you’re both smiling too wide and too much for it to be anything more than just pushing your lips against each other’s and you pull away with a wet laugh.

He grins wider, and you didn’t think it was possible but he manages it. “I’m so glad, because if I had to go back to the shopkeeper with a terrible story about how I got rejected by the love of my life—“

You giggle and swat at his arm, wrapping your arms around him, “Of course that’s what you worry about. This is all a publicity stunt, yeah? To boost your ego.”

“Of course,” he says, with no weight to the words as he sniffs and blinks away the last of his tears, “Though that just means we should make it a bigger stunt and get married. I’ll even invite Kipps just to rub it in his face.”

You hum, helplessly amused, when the door slams open and George shamelessly walks in with at first his usual deadpan, then a pleased expression. From behind George, Lucy is brimming with happiness, smiling cheek to cheek.

“Gross,” George says, simply and without malice. He steps around you and Lockwood, patting you both on the back sincerely and pulling out pots and pans. It occurs to you a little late that he’s starting on supper. “Took you both a while to actually confess. Mental, the two of you.”

“It was cute,” Lucy says kindly, taking you from Lockwood (he does pout lightly, but she just sticks her tongue out at him) hugging you dear. “George just means that we’re both very happy you two finally got together. He was starting to go bald actually from pulling his hair out too much, look at his hairline—“

“You can’t even pretend like you weren’t too, Lucy.” George sends her a glare as she separates from you. Lockwood quickly fills the space at your side again and all but wraps himself around you. Lucy pats him on the back with a congratulatory smile.

“You can’t go bald before my wedding, George, that’d just ruin it,” you say, clicking your tongue as you reach over (not without struggling over Lockwood) and pat his curls into place. The pot nearly slips out of his hands while Lucy’s eyes grow big as saucers.

“Wedding?!?” They ask simultaneously. Lockwood giggles into your neck, the cheeky bastard.

“This one here,” you gesture at Lockwood with a look, “said we should get married since this whole thing is a publicity stunt or whatnot. Said he might even invite that Kipps bloke he hates.”

“That is the lamest proposal I have ever heard,” Lucy immediately cuts in, the most disappointed scowl pointed at Lockwood’s head.

“I’ve got to agree. You could absolutely do better than that, Lockwood. Also, Quill Kipps? Do you want to have start a fight at your wedding?” George asks, his back turned to everyone. You pull away from Lockwood to pick up the flowers, but not without him frowning as you do. He stops frowning as soon as you smile at him, though, before he turns his attention to Lucy and George when they both pretend to gag.

“I gave them flowers, a really sentimental bunch I think, then I had a good speech,” He says to Lucy first, who raises a brow at him.

He turns to George next. “I need to rub it in his face that he’s probably miserable and forever alone.”

“I thought it was gonna be a publicity stunt, not a revenge plot,” You mutter, clicking your tongue.

“I’m not letting you have a lame wedding, Lockwood, because that means they—“ she points to you “— will have a lame wedding and I will not let that happen.”

“But you’d let me have a lame wedding if it was just mine?” His face is scrunched in offence as he ‘discreetly’ wraps himself around you again.

“Yes,” Lucy and George say simultaneously.

“I’d marry you at a lame wedding.” You play with his hair where you can reach it, pressing a kiss to his forehead where he’s dumped it again on your shoulder. Lucy and George gag, Lockwood beams so bright you’d think he won the lottery that night.

They manage to convince you that it’s too dark out to leave (it was past curfew, the sun had set already) so you spend the night recounting everything you can with them until the stars had gone to sleep and the sun started rising.

The next day, he brings down the bouquet of carnations you’d first given him, and you mix both the bouquets into one. A year later, Portland Row becomes home to not only to the people living in it, but a garden full of flowers blooming with love, laughter, and a lot of hard work. White Jasmine flowers bloom on the veranda and a house of three becomes home to four.

A/N: Finally finished this series!! Whew, that was… hmm!! And just because I couldn’t add it to the story without it getting clunky, have these idk, headcanons? fun facts?:

Reader tells Lockwood all about the flowers after, and informs him about why the Jasmine flowers were so familiar

The grumpy neighbour reader stole the white jasmine flowers from was actually the old man gardener’s wife

Lockwood goes back to tell the old man, and they have a laugh about the whole thing

It is so hard to get one straight meaning for a flower, but if you dig enough you can find flowers that mean so many cute things:

Red carnations mean deep love and affection

Pink tulips mean caring and affection

White Jasmine flowers can mean many things but for this story I went with: Eternal love, persevering love, and new beginnings

Everyone knows red roses, but I also like to think Lockwood’s bouquet had thornless red roses because they mean love at first sight

Yes he one upped the reader even without knowing what all the flowers mean because he’s a competitive little freak (affectionate) and I love him

This series has been very dear to me, and I am especially thankful to @tangledinlove <3 Thank you for your kind reblogs, I hope you know I read them and always look forward to seeing how you find each part in the series even if I don’t respond to them <33333

Also @milesmorals asked me to tag her too!!