#anyways… if u liked nine facts…. maybe u like this?

[stevebabey]

the swindling of steve harrington’s heart

word count: 9.5k synopsis: you write for the advice column in the hawkins post, under the pen name gabby. you get a letter asking for advice about a first date and there’s no way it’s the same guy you’ve just landed a first date with, right? steve harrington doesn’t need help with his dates... right? [based on this post] [fem!reader + strangers to lovers but… steve’s a big sap for you already, ok?]

The first letter comes in on a Tuesday. 

It’s posted in an ordinary envelope, with only a messy scrawl on the front to dictate that it was for the advice column of Hawkins Post. Inside revealed the same loopy letters, on a single piece of paper, reading: 

Out of all the letters you’ve ever received at this job, most of which were lengthy admissions of troubles in suburbia, this one was by far the most interesting one you’d gotten all month. All year if you were being honest.

Writing advice under the pen name Gabby for your local paper likely wasn’t anyone’s first choice of job, not at least for those serious about writing as yourself was.

But between flipping burgers down at Benny’s and slinging shakes at Rita’s Diner, it seemed the lesser of all evils. And hey, it paid decently enough and you had a sweet little set-up in one of the drowsy corners of the office. 

It’s how you wind up here, scanning over the letter from one mysterious S.

It’s penned on some spare paper, nothing special. It wasn’t even lined paper like you might usually use for sending a letter of any sorts. It intrigued you the moment it had been dropped into your basket.

Hands flipping through the 4 other letters in there, rows of soft pink and blue envelopes, all with familiar handwriting, you determined that this one was, indeed, a new writer.

You practically devoured it from the first line. Gossip was rampant in Hawkins, like all small towns, but it was not so often shared so publicly with the paper, despite the anonymity that came with the advice column.

Most people in Hawkins seemed to come for advice on outshining their neighbours with a peach cobbler. Some asked whether jazzercise really was the go. There were very few sad tales of love in between the mush.

But this? Even just from the use of the word crush, you knew this wasn’t the average housewife talking midlife marital issues. This was someone your age.

It’s just a little bit funny, you admit — you, yourself, couldn’t imagine ever turning to the local paper to seek out love-life advice. Especially considering none of your previous replies as Gabby implied you had expertise in that area.

You decided it meant they were truly desperate or perhaps completely a hopeless romantic, or a bit of both.

But you couldn’t lie, either way, it’s entirely endearing to you.

It didn’t matter that it was probably someone who had no ‘game’, it was entirely completely made up by the fact they were clearly trying very hard, very genuinely.

They cared enough about getting things right. Whoever they were wooing was very lucky— re-reading over the short letter shoots a grimy wave of envy through your chest. When was the last time someone cared that much about a first date with you? About any date with you? The answer was… probably, never.

It didn’t help either that you had just landed yourself a date. A date with Steve Harrington.

For just a moment, a very brief moment, you look down at the signed S and wonder: would he?

No, he wouldn’t, you decide swiftly. The fragile hope that briefly hung up on the idea is shaken off as you recall his charismatic nature, his easy grin when he asked you out just the other week.

There had been a bit of nervousness, sure, but when you consider the dating history he’d had through high school, well… You feel embarrassed for even considering it. 

King Steve Harrington doesn’t need help with his dates.

Besides, the letter clearly states this was S’s long-time crush. You were fairly certain that if the school’s golden boy harboured any sort of feelings for you, it wouldn’t have slipped past your radar.

Last time you checked, Steve had only noticed you when you had gone into Family Video the other week — when he had promptly asked if you wanted to see a movie together sometime.

Sure, it hadn’t been nearly as smooth as you expected, though, that wasn’t to say you weren’t charmed. You’d heard a lot about Steve— though, who at Hawkins High hadn’t?

He had been that customer-service type of welcoming, hands braced against the countertop as he leaned into it, a handsome smile on his face.

You had pretended your stare didn’t linger on his arms. Or that you were drinking in all the subtle changes to himself, physically and more, since his primped-up freshmen-self. 

You had even admitted to yourself that he managed to pull off the dweeby Family Video vest, trailing behind him as he led you both to the action-film section.

Steve had stood close enough that you could feel the warmth emanating from him, and had helped debate your choice. He didn’t even comment when you got distracted looking at his arms when he crossed them, even though he smiled a little more smugly, having seen your wandering eyes.

Like it was your fault he had gorgeous, tanned, toned arms that made you want to drool.

But even with all his suaveness, Steve still looked surprised when you laughed at his joke, or his attempt at one — and then some of his coolness seemed to flee.

He had fumbled through the whole interaction of checking out your film and asked if you’d like to ‘maybe if you want, totally cool if not’, wanted to watch one with him sometime.

You think you’d say yes all over again just to see the way he had lit up. He positively beamed, then swiftly ducked his head to hide his hasty grin.

Saturday at 8, you’d agreed on. At the Hawk. He’d pay for the tickets and you’d shout the snacks. It’s a date, were his exact words. He had looked extra delighted when you had repeated them back to him with a nervous grin of your own.

It’s what you think of as you peer down at the letter in your hands, loopy scrawls telling a plea in love. You think about what you hope you’ll get on a first date — with Steve or anyone, for that matter — and pull up a new sheet to draft a response.

It’s about the only advice you can give. Truthfully, dates fail for a multitude of reasons that change on a day-to-day basis and if this S just didn’t match with their date, well… that was out of your hands.

But if S liked them this much, enough to reach out to the murky depths of the local paper’s advice column, then they should show that. If nothing else, you’re sure their date would be flattered at their sincerity.

Try as you might not, the letter plagues your mind as you leave work. Your response sits on your desk, penned up and ready to be printed for the Friday morning paper, hopefully giving enough time to your advice-seeking S.

By Saturday, however, it’s the last thing on your mind — it’s hard for anything else to occupy it when it bubbles away blissfully at the thought of your date later in the evening.

You try to not let your thoughts carry away with what Steve might wear, what film you’d watch, whether you’d be able to sneakily hold his hand in the shadows of the cinema.

It plays a romantic pink-saturated loop in your brain, daydreaming of some silly kiss in the back row because Steve just can’t resist, he’s had a crush on you for so long— okay, maybe the letter was on your mind just a little.

But 8 o’clock whirls around faster than you expect and you arrive outside the cinema with only a couple minutes to spare. You’re more than relieved to see Steve already there, leaning up against the brick wall where the upcoming movies are showcased, bathed in soft golden light. 

He’s got on a pair of dark wash jeans and the polo he’s wearing stretches around his arms deliciously, forcing a giddy sigh from your lips.

There’s a jacket slung over his crossed arms and one of his feet is tapping rapidly against the ground. Even from afar, you can see him worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Your heart spurs faster at the sight. He’s nervous.

“Steve!” You call out, unable to help how you’re already smiling like a lovesick fool. It doesn’t help when Steve’s head pops up, his hair bouncing just a bit. He lights up at the sight of you, features moving from worry to something happier. 

He straightens up, back scraping the bricks, and he steps forward to meet you in the middle.

“Hey,” he breathes, a grin stretching over his lips. This close, you can smell the cologne he’s wearing— something musky, with a hint of bergamot — and your head spins, all dizzy with delight.

“Hey, yourself.” You reply as playfully as you can manage. You swallow back another wave of nerves.

Fuck, was he this pretty when he asked you out? In the space of a couple of days, he seems to have gotten even more attractive. He’s got that entire look about him that reminds you of a daydream.

“You look, uh, really lovely tonight.” Steve compliments, tucking his hands into his front pockets nervously. He sounds so sincere it aches, the words worming under your skin til you believe them completely; he really does think you look lovely.

It’s a strange moment of consideration you find yourself having. You’re here, on a date with Steve Harrington and he thinks you look really lovely.

It’s not like you hadn’t heard the rumours about the cosmic shift in the King of Hawkins High — going from sneering at other kids in the hallways to cleaning off graffiti on his own accord. 

Yet, some small part of you is still delightfully surprised, as though it had been unconvinced until you had seen it for yourself. In the past, a part of you had been truly miffed at the waste of a pretty face on a douchebag like King Steve. 

Now, it’s like an entirely different person. When Steve offers you another smile, earnest and sweet, you’re secretly glad to get to be the one who takes a chance on him.

You come to a standstill at the back of the winding line outside the ticket booth, the pair of you lingering closer than needed. The brush of his shoulder against your own feels blazing, a streak of warmth. You hope he can’t feel your resounding shiver— and half-hope that he does and gets closer because of it.

“That— uh, thank you,” you manage to remember your words. Even better, you manage to accept the compliment semi-regularly, even though your insides are knitting themselves into a tangle of nervous anticipation.

“You too. Look nice!” You say, louder than you intend. The girl ahead of you peers over her shoulder and somehow even that’s not enough to keep your mouth from running. “I mean, you sort of always look good. That’s kinda—” you wave your hand over him generally, “—your thing. Looking… nice.”

Dear god stop, you will yourself, mouth snapping shut and eyes following quickly, screwed up in embarrassment. Way to completely disregard the advice you gave a stranger and pile on the appearance-based compliments.

You do your best to hide your wince as you peek your eyes back open. It’s a relief to see Steve chuckle good-naturedly, a delicate pink touching the apples of his cheeks.

“You know,” Steve begins as the line ambles forward slowly. His gaze switches between the ground and you, too nervous to commit to looking you straight on. “I didn’t just ask you out because you’re pretty.” 

He pauses. Rethinks his words and makes a hasty correction. “I do! Think that you’re pretty, that is.”

His quick assurance makes you laugh just a bit and you hide it behind a bitten-back smile. Steve stops examining his shoes for a moment, glancing to check you haven’t taken his words the wrong way.

Your heart feels like it does a forward roll in your chest, seeing his even pinker cheeks. God, in what world do you make Steve Harrington so nervous?

“I just—” Steve continues, shoulders hiking up a bit, another nervous motion. “I don’t want you to think that that’s the only reason, I asked. I like that you’re nice. You’ve always been nice.”

You blink at him. In a moment of clarity, a couple of revelations roll through your mind, each one steamrolling the last one before you can grapple each one properly.

Revelation No. 1. is the fact that Steve had noticed you. Past tense. Noticed you enough to think you’re nice and bookmark that in his brain. He remembers things about you. And then— then he had made a special effort to compliment you. Specifically outside of your appearance.

And hadn’t you just given specific advice like that? You had! You had given advice to an anonymous person known only as S, with instructions for their first date. Their first date with their long-time crush.

Which means... you’re Steve Harrington’s long-term crush. Which means, oh my god, Steve Harrington accidentally wrote into your job to ask you for advice on his date with you.

The result of the revelations, each one blooming quickly as the one before it, leaves you entirely speechless for a moment. Baffled. You gape like a fish, mouth flapping around empty words. You can’t quite compute it. Steve? Steve is the one who wrote to the local paper for advice? Steve Harrington wrote in for advice about a date with you? His long-term crush?

You’re thankful Steve’s nervous enough to not look at you because, for a silent 10 seconds, you’re sure every emotion from ecstatic and bewildered crosses your features. What in the actual hell?

You’re not sure how you expect yourself to continue this date and act like a regular person, knowing what you know.

And, more importantly, should you tell Steve? 

You get about 10 more seconds of floundering to debate it, tossing up a thousand different ways this entire evening could change if you reveal yourself.

Steve would be embarrassed. Steve would be angry. Steve wouldn’t believe you and just think you’re messing with him. Steve didn’t even write the letter and you’ve connected dots that don’t even exist.

You can’t pinpoint which one is the truth. You truthfully don’t know Steve well enough to predict how he might react, no matter how sweet he may have been. A realisation of how quiet you’ve been rolls through you when Steve’s head pulls up, concern knitting his brows together.

Something else altogether comes out of your mouth instead.

“You noticed me?”

Steve goes even more red. It’s a glorious sight and in an instant, you can tell he hasn’t meant to give that much away. The line shuffles forward and Steve seems thankful for it, clearing his throat and eyeing the ticket box ahead like he was wishing you were both there already. There’s only one more couple ahead of you.

“Is that weird?” He says after a moment, his voice a bit smaller than before.

“What?” You say, because it’s the last thing you’re expecting him to say. “No! I’m sorry I didn’t— that wasn’t an accusation!”

You mull over your thoughts, trying your best to put into words how it had actually made you feel. How it had soaked your inside with giddiness, not with worry. 

“It’s... really sweet, actually.” You admit, feeling bold enough to nudge your shoulder against his.

“Yeah?” Steve asks, the question said so earnestly it’s like he’s not quite sure he believes you.

“I mean,” You smile, sneaking a nervous glance sideways at him. He’s watching you, expression hinting at anticipation. You nod, continuing, “I’m glad you didn’t just ask me out because you think I’m pretty.”

The last word comes out a bit strained. It feels strange to admit it out loud even with the way Steve looks at you; little glitters of adoration in his eyes.

“It’s-” You clear your throat and bite back a smile that might be too eager. “It’s nice to be noticed.” 

Steve makes a small sound of content, like some sort of pleased hum. Then the couple ahead of you is moving and it’s your turn to step up for tickets.

You hurry through tickets and snacks, getting a packet of Reese's Pieces, some popcorn, and one huge cup of soda with two neon-coloured straws sticking out. When you duck through the velvet curtains at the theatre doors, arm already looped through Steve’s, it feels like you’re entering not as two people but as something closer. 

The evening whirls by in a lavender haze and Steve is nothing short of everything sweet and charming. Even with his nerves tripping him up now and then, it’s all endearing to you.

You two are the last ones out of the cinema, ushered out by bored employees whose glaring only deepened when they realised you and Steve had conducted a popcorn throwing competition between yourselves. You had been left in the dust, with Steve catching near every piece you threw at him. You were less gracious, salt smearing on your cheeks from so many missed throws. 

By the time you’re both back out the front, the night has found a chill to drape across the evening. The sky glitters darkly. The bulbs surrounding the front of the cinema glow and crackle quietly and you’re pleasantly delighted to find you don’t want to leave just yet.

“Hey,” Steve starts. He’s stuffed his hands in his pockets but you can see them twisting about nervously. “Yanno, I had a really good time tonight.”

You can see the moment he bites his tongue and holds back another sentence. You smile as encouragingly as you can — though something about how well the night has gone has your courage growing, doubling, tripling in size.

“Me too.” You admit. You ignore how your palms start to dampen just a titch and seize the words before your nerve fails you. “Did you— do you want to do it again, maybe?”

Steve nods, a stray strand of his hair escaping with the enthusiasm of the motion. He chuckles a bit, pushes it back, and steps closer. “Yes. I mean, yes, of course. You’re... this was so lovely.”

There’s a stir ecstatically in your chest in his words, which drip in sincerity. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, head ducked in shyness. It’s still strange, for someone to be so forward in their affections to you. “Um, should I- I could give you my number?”

Steve nods again, just as fervently as last time. He’s somehow gotten closer in just the few minutes you’ve been speaking like there’s a magnetism within you that he can’t resist.

“Yeah, totally! Did you — I don’t have a pen, I’m sorry,” He chuckles again. His hand scratches at the back of his neck.

You’re thankful for your insane preparedness, digging through your bag to produce a pen. By the time you pop the cap off it, a green marker, Steve’s already rolled back his sleeve. He holds out his arm.

“Your canvas awaits,” He jokes. Your smile grows into a grin, almost ashamed of how funny you found that. God, crushes made you stupid — though thankfully Steve seems to grin wider at hearing your laugh.

You curl your fingers around his wrist to hold his arm still. He’s warm, hot blood pumping beneath your touch. You try not to focus on how you can feel his pulse under your fingertips, nor how it’s racing far faster than normal. After your number, you hesitate for a moment before adding a quick doodle of a heart. It’s sloppy, not exactly your best work. 

Steve loves it. The moment you release his arm, he thumbs over the heart. Steve looks up at you, an infectious type of smile on his face now. “I’ll give you a call, yeah?”

You nod, tucking your hands in your pocket. You’re unable to stop yourself from rocking up onto the balls of your feet in your excitement. 

“Uh, you should probably call after 9 unless you want to meet my mom already.”

Steve huffs a laugh. “Got it. After 9. No meeting mom just yet.” He promises.

This time, reading the letter feels like there’s sparking gunpowder littered in your very heart — lighting it up in a frenzy of fire in your chest as you read. It’s impossible to do anything except inhale each new word. You felt a little bad, sure, reading a review of your own date but then again, it was your job.

Besides, you’d tell Steve. When... Well, alright, you weren’t totally sure when you were going to tell him.

Definitely not before the next date. It was still fragile — and some part knew that if you told him, there was a good chance Steve would be too embarrassed. Would work himself up over it and it would ruin everything.

It was like... a souffle. You had to take it out of the oven at the right time; too soon, and everything would sink in on itself.

So, you decided to wait it out. Dish out some more advice and... see how the next date went.

You write back, There isn’t such a thing as giving too much away. This girl will be flattered to know you care as much as you do. Take her somewhere special to you.

It’s just enough of a nudge you think. ‘Somewhere special’ was a wide-open prompt that Steve could interpret as he liked. He could pick just how intimate the next date would be. You promise to yourself quietly, that if you get a third date, you’ll tell him then. 

Steve calls you the night after your responding advice is published in The Hawkins Post. 10 minutes past 9pm. He tells you, voice low and sweet, that he’s got a surprise spot in mind.

“If you’re up for that,” Steve hastily tacks on. “We don’t have to. I’m- we can go out for dinner if you’d prefer that. I totally love dinner.”

Faintly through the phone, you hear the quiet noise, like a thud. You have to smother down a giggle as you realise Steve’s smacked himself with the phone in his own exasperation.

“I’m up for a surprise,” You assure him, clutching the phone a bit tighter in your excitement. “That sounds fun.”

“Fun,” Steve echoes, with a tone of disbelief. Like he hadn’t believed you’d agree until, well, you had. “Yes! It’ll be fun. So much. I hope so. When are you free?”

His words come out so quickly. You can’t hide your laugh this time, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip to try to dissuade the giddy grin threatening your lips. No dice. Nothing can stop your elation.

“What kind of surprise are we talking about?” You ask first, thinking over your next words, wondering if you’re brave enough to say them. You take the leap. “Because, well, I know it’s a Tuesday but I’m free tomorrow night and—“

“Yes.” Steve cuts in eagerly. “Tomorrow night, let’s do it. I can pick you up?”

“Okay,” you agree, nodding even though he can’t see it. You don’t think your grin can’t get any wider, barely contained enough to relay your address for him to jot down.

Tuesday evening is soft, the sky a pale blue that washes warmth over the day. Steve picks you up on time. He’s handsome as ever, leaning up against the driver's side door as he waits for you.

Your heart does a little skip when he straightens up upon spotting you, perking up like he had at the cinema. It reminds you faintly of a dog wagging its tail; his happiness at seeing you so visible to see. 

“Did you get prettier since the last time I saw you?” He says, in lieu of greeting as you trot down to meet him. You feel heat bloom beneath your cheeks.

“I-” Your nerves creep up and honesty takes over your words. “I don’t know how to answer that.” You titter out a laugh, a smile tugging at your mouth.

Steve hums as you come to a stop before him. He pretends to give you a serious once over, his eyes light and smile easy. His gaze comes back up to rest on your face before he nods firmly.

“Mmhm, it’s just as I expected.” He reports back, soft and genuine. “Prettier in every way.”

You laugh again, nervousness bleeding into the sound but his words sink into your skin warmly. Fingers twisting into your sweater, you try to rein in your rabbiting heart.

“You’re a goof, anyone ever tell you?”

Steve grins. “Never said I wasn’t. Now, your chariot awaits.”

He sweeps an arm to the car behind him.

He’s right, it is a surprise. You’re not entirely sure where you’d been anticipating — maybe his favourite spot to eat? But instead, he takes you to a clearing, with blankets of grass and wildflowers dotted across the landscape.

For a moment, when you creep out from his car, hands still clutching the edge of the door, you wonder if this is how he found Skull Rock and the likes — that maybe Steve Harrington was an explorer by nature. You think back to your advice and wonder; what makes this place special to him? 

Your heart twists, knowing that he’s taken your advice, even if some part of you tears up in guilt. You will tell him. You take solace in knowing there’s not much to be guilty of; telling him the best way to woo you is hardly terrible manipulation.

Sure, it’s swindling but... of the sweetest kind. You lead him to your heart and in return, get to steal his own.

Steve’s brought along a blanket and picnic for the two of you. There are crudely cut sandwiches, though you don’t doubt he’s tried his best, paired with punnets of ripe fat strawberries. It’s... adorable. Dizzily endearing, how much effort he’s put in for you.

Your heart aches a little more at his pink cheeks as he unpacks all this for you like he’s worried what you’ll think. He is worried about what you’ll think, you realise. Despite all you’ve heard and known about King Steve, your mind winds up thinking back to his letter... I don’t want her to get freaked out if I come on too strong.

A fire of determination burns in your chest. Loving loudly would never be— could never be something to hide. Nor to feel embarrassed over, not with you at least.

So, you start by trying to feed him a strawberry, like a thousand romance novels have taught you. Instead of a cute gesture, you smush it into his cheek instead by accident as he turns his face suddenly. An apology squeaks out of you.

“I’m— oh my god, I’m so sorry,” You’re wiping the red juice splattered on his cheek, your own cheeks feeling fiery and hot. Steve takes your endless apologies well, assuring away the beginnings of your mortification.

He only manages to truly stop your flow of embarrassed apologies by squishing a sandwich against your cheek as well, just to make it fair — a peel of your laughter fills the field, some of your nervousness floating away with it.

Then, just as you had, Steve wipes off the smear of cream cheese on your chin with his thumb, the motion soft and gentle. Your nerves jump around again.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” you begin, finally asking the question that’s been burning since you arrived. “Because I’m loving this date but… Why did you pick this spot?” 

You’re careful to word your question in a way that doesn’t give away what else you know. Beside you, Steve takes a moment to think. His eyes scan over your face before he tilts it back to face the clearing, his arms resting on his propped up knees.

He’s just a boy. A pretty boy on a picnic rug he brought along to your date, in a field of flowers that he took you to. You have the thought to compare him to a painting in this moment right as Steve starts to speak.

“I came up here a whole lot after,” Steve heaves a loud sigh like he’s regretful for what he’s about to bring up. “After me and Nancy broke up. It was good to get out of town and just, like, have my own time to think. To think about what I really wanted.” 

You dare to ask. “And did you figure it out? What you really wanted?” 

Steve glances over at you and smiles crookedly. It’s one of his real smiles, you’ve come to realise. “To not get my heart broken again, for starters. That just— that shit sucked, you know?” 

He laughs a little bitterly, more to himself, and steals another glance at you, like his words are a test and he’ll find an answer in your expression. You smile gently, hoping to convey every softness that you have for him. Every good intent. 

“Well, m’not looking to do that.” You admit truthfully. “Maybe, I’ll… I’ll ease the ache?” 

Steve seems to soften at your words, relaxing. His shoulders drop an inch. “I hope so.” 

“And maybe, I want a little bit of loverboy Steve Harrington for myself too.” You say, your smile turning more coy. It’s true that loverboy was one of the nicknames for Steve tossed around Hawkins High halls but it hadn’t really stuck the same way The Hair or King Steve had. Except for, well, secretly with you.

“Loverboy?” 

“That’s what they call you!” 

“And who are they?” Steve asks, some of his signature charm creeping back in. He smirks at you, leaning in closer and your breath hitches nervously. You grin despite it. 

“People!” 

“Uh huh…” 

Time flows easily around the two of you, weaving like the softest cocoon. As the sunset blossoms, the grassy clearing becomes breathtaking. The moment the sun dips below the horizon, dimming the sky and encouraging out the stars, you suddenly know why this is Steve’s special spot.

He stretches out on his back, eyes to the sky. You copy him. Two little bodies cocooned in the sweet grass, wrapped in the night-time.

“This might seem strange,” Steve starts. His brows are bunched together, thinking hard, but his expression lightens as he turns his face to you. “But... Thank you for coming out here with me. For trusting me.”

A beat of quiet. A wind ruffles over the clearing, a soft whistle in the night. Steve swallows nervously. “Was it a good surprise?”

His question is so earnest it aches. It’s so obvious that he just wants to do this right and well for you.

You know now that even without your advice through the paper, Steve would have charmed you all the same. That you might’ve taken another route and it might’ve taken another couple of dates before you got here, sharing secret spots— but that you’d end up here, with him, regardless.

“It was,” you tell him truthfully, chest glittering with happiness. You smile at him, nudging his shoulder with your own. “Thank you for showing me.”

Steve grins. He turns back to face the sky, eyes cinching shut for a moment. Breathes in the moment. You admire the dimple of his smile. His pretty mouth. His eyes peek back open as turns back to you, voice dropped down into a whisper, “You’re welcome.”

It feels like a little more than you’re welcome — like maybe, he’s thanking you too. You’re really thanking yourself too, for wandering into Family Video when you had, for saying yes to Steve, for giving yourself this chance with him.

Moonlight shadows across his face, strong brows and sloped nose even more defined in the dark. You stare, eyes dragging from mole to mole, avoiding his intense brown eyes that threaten to make everything in your chest melt pathetically.

Shit, is he going to kiss you? Your stomach jumps with a spike of pure want and you move forward— right as Steve sits up. Embarrassment flushes down your spine and you recoil back, sitting up quickly as Steve had but not quick enough.

“Wait,” Steve says suddenly, twisting to glance at where you’d both been lying just a moment. In your panic, you don’t hear the eagerness in his voice. “Were you gonna—?”

Somehow, it seems more embarrassing to admit it aloud. That you might have been ballsy enough to kiss Steve first. You shake your head without thinking about it, arms coming to curl around your knees. Fuck, you wish you had read that moment right.

“Uh,” You spit out stupidly. “No, no, it was just…” you clear your throat. The awkwardness of the moment is nearly painful.

“I mean, yes,” you correct yourself quietly, clearing your throat again. You don’t want Steve to think you don’t want to kiss him. “I was, but—“

“You were?” Steve sounds close to devastation. His expression has crumpled a bit, regret rippling off him in waves. Your stomach turns.

“It’s okay!” You assure him hurriedly. “It’s— you know, the moments gone but there’s always… next time, right?” Your voice comes out a bit tight.

Steve seems a tad bit relieved at your words, shoulders deflating an inch or so. He nods along, even though you can still see the tinge of embarrassment on his face — it’s adorable, that he’s the one feeling embarrassed like it wasn’t you who made a move at the wrong time.

“Yeah,” Steve hasn’t stopped nodding, even as his gaze has travelled off you, staring down at his hands. The furrow in his brow hasn’t eased up, still drawn together in the middle, even as he agrees, “Yeah, next time. Uh, totally.”

Then, his head jerks up in your direction. “I’m sorry, by the way, I didn’t mea—“

You wave him off, a nervous chuckle coming out. You sort of want to bury your missed kiss along with all your humiliation but with every other word but Steve keeps kicking off the dirt. “Seriously, it’s fine, Steve. Really.”

His nod isn’t all that convincing to say he believes you.

Regret festers deep in your gut when the evening seems to derail from that point on. Try as you might, you can tell Steve is stuck in his own head; no doubt hounding himself for the strange rebuff he’d given you.

It would be endearing, that he’s so twisted up inside over it, if it didn’t seep awkwardness into the remainder of your date. You wish you hadn’t tried to kiss him.

The car ride to drop you home is absent of the sweet conversation you’d had when he’d picked you up. Words lull, just an oddly tense air between you two. You’re not sure how to fix this.

When Steve pulls up to the curb, the engine idling with a low rumble, you don’t open the door, not yet. Instead, you turn to Steve.

He’s already waiting, already looking over at you, a hint of worry in his expression — though, it’s gone in a flash.

Steve peels his white-knuckled grip off the steering wheel, pressing his hands into his thighs nervously. He gives a strange sort of chuckle and exhales.

“Right,” He starts, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I know that— well, obviously, that wasn’t how I’d hoped that would go at the end and—”

He pauses, eyes scrunching shut with a groan as he tries to collect his words. The next sentence looks like it takes effort to grind out. “I would understand, is all, if you decided you didn’t want to go out again—”

“I do.” 

“—because that was, well- wait, what?”

Steve forces his eyes open and doesn’t even try to hide his astonishment. Your heart throbs achingly at his obvious surprise.

“I do want to go out again.” You nod along with your words. Being so sincere makes you feel a bit naked, forcing your vulnerability out into the open so that you don’t let him spiral. But you’d rather deal with that discomfort that let Steve get the wrong idea.

“Yeah?” Steve breathes. He seems to remember himself, picking his hands off his lap and draping them over the steering wheel. They tap at it lightly. Still nervous. “I’ll— I’ll call you?”

You nod again. For a brief moment, you think of how dates are supposed to end with kisses, or so you’re told. Your eyes dip down to his lips.

You want to. Even just pressing a peck to his cheek might satisfy your churning, growing urge to kiss him — but you certainly don’t have enough courage scraped together after his accidental rebuff.

A little part of you whispers meanly that it may not have been so accidental.

“After 9pm, remember?” You hear yourself say with a smile. Opening the door, you step out onto the sidewalk and close it gently behind you.

Then you deliver Steve one more smile, one more look back, because that’s the bravest you can be at the moment.

He doesn’t call the next night.

Or the night after.

You’re certainly not expecting another letter from Steve, especially considering how your phone has sat idle and quiet in its cradle since your date on Tuesday. Ringing, but not for you.

But come Friday morning— there is it.

Another letter, scribbled in handwriting you’re coming to recognise. Your heart stammers through the next couple beats as you realise what it is, who has sent it.

This time, you nearly consider not reading it. For him and for you, you consider letting it get lost in the piles of paper, never seen, never read. But burning curiosity wins, coddled by your bruised ego.

This letter is messier and more hurried than its predecessors, letters looping together all slanted.

And…oh.

A small worry in you settles. Changes and transforms into something warmer as you realise he hasn’t called you because he’s waiting for advice first. Waiting, unknowingly, for you to answer him.

You genuinely think the space where your heart is supposed to be is empty — that the organ has melted down like gooey candle wax, dripping down your ribcage in burning hot affection. Your chest aches in the best way.

You’d never understood films where girls lie on their beds and kick their feet up, doodling hearts on paper. The urge is suddenly quite overwhelming. Christ. Steve really likes you.

He hadn’t called you back because— because part of him thinks you wouldn’t want him too. That one missed kiss would be the dealbreaker, even after those lovely dates.

You want to scoff, to laugh, to track down Steve and grip him by the shoulders and say, ‘I think you’re stuck with me if you’ll have me!’

You settle for pulling out a fresh sheet to draft your response.

It’s a bit of a gamble, considering the part about the stars is complete codswallop. The newspaper doesn’t even technically have an astrologist; the horoscopes are auto-generated every week. You’re praying Steve won’t know that.

The paper goes to print on Friday evening, for the early weekend morning the day after. Saturday morning, there’s a call of your name downstairs and you’re halfway down the stairs when you pause at the sight of your mom on the phone.

“Someone on the phone for you,” She comments, the smallest raise of her eyebrows. You ignore the way that makes you hot inside, rushing down the end of the stairs to rescue who you hope is Steve on the other end of the phone. Your mom skirts away but not without one more meaningful glance back at you.

You turn and face the other way, giving away nothing. You’re sure you sound a bit breathless as you speak into the receiver, “Hello?”

A crackle on the other end.

“Hi.” A voice says nervously. There’s a moment’s pause. “It’s Steve.”

You fight off a combination of responses; a girlish squeal and a hefty sigh of relief. He called. The cord of the phone loops around your fingers automatically.

“Hey,” You say, aiming for casual. You’re not sure if it comes out that way.

A small part of you doesn’t mind if he hears your poorly tamped down excitement — an even smaller part wants him to. There’s something different about this call, knowing what you know.

“I’m real sorry it took so long to call,” Steve says, voice genuine. He clearly feels the need to explain his silence. You suppose if you hadn’t received his letter, you might still be feeling a bit confused and bummed out. “I— I’ll tell you all about why tomorrow? If you’re free?”

It’s sickeningly sweet that he still sounds so nervous.

“Of course,” you say. “It’s—” It crosses your mind to tell him, here and now, to explain that you knew exactly why he took so long to call you. You fumble and something else comes out instead. “I’m- I’m glad you called, Steve.”

“Me too.”

Your cheeks ache a bit with the force of your grin. The cord of the phone loops over your finger again and again as you sink against the wall, clutching the phone tighter and pull yourself together,

“So, what’s the plan?”

“You, me, maybe head over to Indianapolis and try out the new golfing game they just set up over there? That sound… good to you?”

It sounds very good to you. 

“I can’t say I’ve ever played golf.” You admit.

A little worry piques up about making a fool of yourself, then settles quickly. Steve wouldn’t make fun of you. If you sucked, you’re actually sure he’d find some way to spin it all romantic style.

“I’ll teach you.”

“You’ve played?”

“Never,” You can hear Steve’s smile through the phone. “But can’t be that hard right?”

—

There’s a lot of thought that goes into what to wear, evident in the holes you must be wearing in your carpet from pacing across it. Restless energy drives you, some labyrinth of nerves and anticipation knotted in your gut. 

Spread out before you on the bed lies everything you own in the colour yellow.

If she wears yellow, it’s your sign. Make your move.

Your own words— well, Gabby’s words, delivered to Steve via the Hawkins Post on how to know if he’s earned your heart like you know he so desperately wants to. You want to show him he has — in a way that seems like a goddamn sign from the universe.

The skirt is one of your nicer ones.

Along the waistline, embroidered flowers are stitched into the fabric and it swishes in just the way you love. Best of all is the dreamy buttery colour, like the colour that bleeds through at the beginning of a sunset, when the sky starts to change at dusk. It’s yellow as yellow comes — for good reason. 

You want him to see you and know.

For the sign to be so unanimously yes that he doesn’t have any space for the same doubts that tornadoed up in his head after your last date.

The type of giddiness that can only be spurred on by crushes and love alike spins up inside you, like sugar catching in a wheel and turning to cotton candy. You’re so sweet on him it’s making you feel gaga. 

You’re also terrified — because you have to tell him now. Inklings of anxiety settle in your chest, leaving little notches in your ribs that twinge a little bit. You really don’t want Steve to leave your life, not now that he’s just come into it.

A little part of you regrets not telling him on the first date, when all your revelations rolled into one big Oh My God! outside of the Hawk cinema.

You hadn’t told him though, so you need to tell him now. And then again, if you’re asking Steve to trust in the stars then… maybe, so should you. 

The afternoon sun lights through the glass of your front door and coats the entrance hall in gold. Steve, as always, is on time. You’re barely down the stairs, the clock chiming at 1 o’clock, when a familiar toot! sounds from out front. Your fingers stress with the fabric of your skirt, smoothing it down for the nth time. 

Here goes… everything. 

You open the door to step you and you startle in surprise to find there’s already someone on the doorstep. 

The door snicks shut behind you, bumping your forward an inch, and the warmth of the afternoon sweeps across your skin.

Steve’s staring downwards, one hand adjusting his ringer t-shirt nervously and the other holding together a fresh bouquet of flowers- sunflowers.

He got you sunflowers. 

Yellow, yellow, yellow. There seems to be a theme to your love. 

His head shoots up at the sound of your entrance, his eyes snagging on your sunny-coloured skirt which shifts in the wind. You swear you can hear his breath hitch as he takes in the colour, a smile blooming wide across his face.

Remembering his manners, Steve clears his throat and tears his eyes off your skirt but it’s too late — the buttery yellow has done its job and he knows. 

His grin has turned brazen and wild. Confidence rolls his shoulder back a bit and his chest puffs out. He looks so handsome it makes you hopelessly nervous. 

“These are…” Steve holds the flowers out but his words trail off. His eyes back on the ground as he thinks, hard, teeth worrying at his bottom lip.

In a second, he seems to come to a decision because he’s stepping closer to you, so close that if you both leaned in a couple more inches, your nose would brush his chin. He holds the sunflowers purposefully out the way, mindful of crushing them. 

He smells very nice, you realise. The scent of his cologne inspires a flustering reaction; you’re sure there must be cartoon hearts swimming above your head. You reign in your thoughts before they get away from you.

“Look, I messed up our last kiss and honestly, until recently I didn’t even know that was something I was even capable of doing.” Steve huffs a laugh, his throat bobbing as he swallows nervously.

His eyes screw shut for just a moment, gathering his thoughts, or perhaps his courage. Maybe both. 

“But, I am. I’m- I feel like a fool around you and I miss these little cues because I’m trying to think of the right thing to say or— or because I can’t stop looking at you. And it’s because I like you. I really like you.” 

He inhales a shuddering breath. The sun beams make his eyes two shades lighter. 

“I’ve been confused and lost in love once before and it means that some days I’m not even sure what that feeling even is, what I’m looking for, but… I think it may feel a lot like you.” 

There is it, presented forward to you. His heart on his sleeve, bleeding for you. 

His affections are so transparent it makes you ache for him more. Sunlight seems to fill your chest, burning in its ardor and the tenderness soon follows.

You feel the fondness you have for him, just a seedling of new love, taking root deep in your heart. A part of you suspects it may have snuck in there far earlier, nestling in sometime between your longing glancing and shared smiles. 

“And now, I really, really want to kiss you.” Steve says, the words so earnest they scrape on the way up his throat.

His brown eyes are searching your face as his free hand rises, hesitating for only a moment before it finds a home curled along your jaw. “And get a chance to get it right this time.” 

“Steve,” you whisper. His name makes your mouth tender like no other word can. “Kiss me.” 

His fingers slide along your jaw and touch the edges of your hair as he inches nearer and your heart lurches up your throat in anticipation. His lips are quivering ever so slightly, you notice. 

And then his lips are on yours. 

He kisses your mouth with all the adoration of a familiar long-time lover, deep and longing. Pushing up on your toes, your hands grasp at his shirt, the fabric twisting between your fingers as you pull him closer. It’s… lovely.

Your heart aches and soars, beating as one with him as his kiss sets a fire aflame within you. You are officially and utterly enraptured by Steve Harrington and all he is, but especially his kisses. You already miss the last of his lips when Steve breaks the kiss. 

He doesn’t move back, staying close, and the tip of his nose bumps against yours. He’s sporting a grin that rivals the day in sunshine. 

“You wore yellow,” He says, voice doused in awe. 

Oh. That’s right. His words are a swift kick to reality. You pull back just a bit, hands flattening out on his chest, just so you can see his face properly because you know if you’re too close, you might fall victim to his brown eyes. 

“About that…” 

Steve blinks and takes a second to realise that he must have spoken aloud. He chuckles, a hint of embarrassment in the noise, and rushes to explain. “That was— that must’ve sounded-” 

“I’m Gabby.” You interrupt before he can get carried away. 

Steve frowns, confusion creasing between his brows. “What? I thought your name was—” 

“No!” You jump in again, biting down your smile at his adorable misunderstanding. “I-I mean I write as Gabby. From the Hawkins Post.” 

Steve blinks at you again. His face blanches and then, it’s like watching fruit ripen, the apples of his cheek getting pinker and pinker with every passing second.

He splutters, a myriad of emotions overtaking his features; surprise, bewilderment, embarrassment. He jumps from one to the other in an instant.

“You- you’re— and you?”

There’s not really a proper sentence coming from Steve, just bucket loads of endearing and unneeded embarrassment radiating off him, so warm you can nearly feel it. Steve sputters for another second before he finally manages to spit out a sentence. 

“The whole time?” 

You have the decency to look sheepish when you nod. Steve steps back for a moment and you try to ignore the spike of fear it invokes in you — he buries his face in his hands, squishing the flowers against his hair, and releases a pitiful sounding groan into his palms. After a moment, he drags his hands down his face and peeks up at you. 

“The whole time?” Steve asks again, in a meek whisper.

“I’m sorry!” You squeak out, guilt beginning to overflow. Oh god, you’ve deceived him and he hates you—

“No, no, no,” He cuts you off with a wave of his hand, which then cards through his hair. He’s still looking a bit frazzled but his eyes finally focus back on you.

“It’s not— Oh, man, I can’t believe it was you. No wonder the advice worked so well! This is- this is a new kind of embarrassing—” 

Steve groans again, though his smile is starting to return. “I can’t believe you still went out with me once you figured it out. God, I knew that writing in was a bit pathetic, it’s gotta be like a—” He holds his hand out flat, hovering at chest height. “Top ten loser move of all time and you still—.” 

“No, it’s not!” You insist, stepping forward to close the gap between you. You shake your head, eager to convince him of how it had seemed from your side; a sweet love letter from someone who cared enough to try to get things right.

“It was sweet and honest. Before I even knew it was you, reading that first letter, I… I wanted it to be you.” You admit, a bit bashfully. 

Steve takes a moment to look at you, eyes dancing down to look at your yellow skirt which swishes as another breeze passes by. Warm afternoon air cocooning around you, you look the picture of devastatingly pretty, dolled up for a date with him. You’ve seen this dorky and little bit pathetic side of him, with his desperate search for advice and missed kisses and yet… you’re still here. 

“You did? You mean that? You don’t think it was… weird?” 

You shake your head, a few strands of hair escaping from behind your ear. Steve thinks about tucking them back for you. He doesn’t feel brave enough yet.

“I mean that. I— it was crazy when I figured it out and I sort of thought it was just wishful thinking but, definitely not weird.” 

You hold your hand up, fingers nearly pinched together with only a few centimetres between them. You squint, smile overtaking your lips before you can stop it. “Was just a little bit funny, though.” 

Steve laughs, head tipping forward to hide his rosy cheeks. He peers back up at you through his lashes, a new twinkle in his eyes. “You’re a little minx, aren’t you?” 

“I didn’t plan it!” You splutter out, defending yourself. “It was- it was just a freaky coincidence.” 

“A freaky coincidence?” Steve’s brows hike up an inch. His smile turns into a smirk and he rocks up on the balls of his feet, then steps back in closer to you. “Mmhm. Totally believe you.” 

“Doesn’t sound like you do.” 

“Weren’t you the one who told me to trust in the stars? You should take your own advice, really.” 

He leans in so close that you think he’s about to kiss you. He doesn’t— just hovers an inch from your lips. 

“I’ve found it works astoundingly well.” He says, voice husky with how low it is.

You shiver a bit, delight zinging up your spine and try your best to not to smile too much because, well — as you find, it’s awfully hard to kiss someone properly when you’re cheesing out, grinning too wide. 

Good thing, neither you or Steve seem to mind very much.

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

night! uh, can u do sum for me like, it would be very very cool from you. can you do like jason x apollo reader that she’s like a ray of sunshine with absolutely anyone and he’s like so in love but she doesn’t know until he wins capture the flag/war games (it depends on wich camp they’ll be) and he’s like “this win is for y/n” and she’s like “oh my father does he like me back?” pls pls??

oh and thank you thank you thank you for writing so well and about jason (he’s so perfect but so underrated i’m crying.) thanks again, i luv ur writing!

⋆⭒˚.⋆ jason grace x daughter of apollo! reader hcs

content: jason grace x daughter of apollo! reader hcs warning: none that i can think of???? author's note: this is for the THREE people that all asked for jason grace x daughter of apollo. it was really scary yall like coordinated that shit bc they all came in at the same time- also...why does apollo reader ALWAYS kick my ass like this was such a bitch to write and like...why???? stupid fucking god of poetry, suck a dick bro fr let me write in peace. im already dyslexic, what more could you want from me??

jason grace had got the hots for the sun's daughter

he couldn't help it

she was just so sweet from the moment he'd met her

he'd been helping leo with something in bunker nine

one second he was holding up sheet metal, the next it was crashing down against his already sensitive nogin

leo rapidly took the son of jupiter to the infirmary, where jason met you

"oh, jeez. another head condition, mr. grace?? giving that brain a run for it's money," you mused with a beaming smile and a soft wink

and jason was a goner

you weren't even a healer, you just liked to make the patients feel better with jokes or legit just your bubbly personality

from that moment on, jason used every excuse to be near you as much as he could

and everyone could tell what was going on with the golden boy

except, naturally, you

which frustrated jason to no end

"do you wanna come hang out in my cabin?" he offered, fighting off his blush mentally

"we always hang out in your cabin, silly," you replied with a winkle of your nose before linking your arm with jason and dragging him off, leaving him to sigh behind your back

"i- i like that shirt on you, y/n. looks really, really good," he tried again in the middle of archery practice, completely missing a shot to tell you that.

"thanks!! it's kayla's but she let me borrow it for today," you hummed, shooting a perfect bullseye shot without any effort, beaming a smile at the boy, who deflated at your lack of flirty response.

then, jason got a brilliant idea when he was talking to percy about capture the flag

he was gonna win, hopefully single handedly, and then do some grand romantic gesture and ask you on a date

should be easy for a child of the big three

except for the fact that his group was against the nike cabin, who were foaming at the mouth for a win

he prayed the gods, more specifically aphrodite, were on his side

the day finally came and jason was completely in the zone, never wanting to win something more in his entire life

well, maybe your heart but still

from the moment the conch shell blew, he was a man on a mission

people began parting out of his way, not wanting to get caught up in that mess

which made it easier to find the flag, some of the demeter kids even pointing him in the right direction

once he found it, he just dropped his sword and sprinted it over the river

bro was fast as lightening

and i think some people were kung fu fighting???

(that made me gag, i apologize-)

(could i delete it?? yes. but if i have to suffer the cringe, so do you.)

ANYWAYS, MOVING ON

jason and his team were dubbed the winners, the flag changing to match cabin one and laurels were placed on his head

bro was pracing around like a show pony, searching the crowd for you

"way to go, jason! congrats, but we're so getting you next time!" you giggled, beaming up at the blonde boy, who couldn't seem to pull his eyes away from you

"well, as far as prizes go, id say these laurels are pretty crappy," jason hummed, removing the crown of golden leaves from his head and inspecting it.

just like he practice in the mirror every morning leading up to this day, same with his words.

this is scripted and being spontaneous wasn't exactly the son of jupiter's strong suit

especially not around pretty girls

"do you guys getting better prizes at new rome or-?" you questioned and you would have said more but then jason gently placed the laurels on your head, smiling as you looked up at them in confusion.

"there, that's a much better prize," he smiled, which only widened as you blushed, ducking your head and causing the laurels to slip slightly

"that's- that's very sweet, jason," you muttered, rocking on your heels as you looked away from him.

the boy you were completely enamored with was telling you he thought you were a prize when you were certain he didn't even like you

like bro wtf???

"well, a sweet girl like you deserves very sweet," he added, enjoying the blush that was settling over your cheeks, "you wanna, maybe, go on a picnic with me?"

"YES- er, yeah, uh, that sounds great. totally, yes, im down," you reply, trying to desperately recover from your far to eager response.

"sounds like a date," jason mused, his smile unstoppable around the sunshine girl.

"more war spoils for the victor?" you teased, pushing the laurels pointly up on your head.

"if you were my war spoils, i'd never lose another fight."

[brodieland]

.˚ 𓈒 ࣪.𝝑𝝔 10 Things I hate about you ´ˎ˗

Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader Synopsis: Its the day of the party, and Percy and Y/N have some realizations. Does it go the good way or bad way??? Warning(s): cursing, underage drinking, sex jokes if I may Word Count: 2555 A/N: the urge to add a little bit of a smau was too great I fear😕

╰➤ MASTERLIST pt5

You were currently in your sisters room laying on her bed, thinking about why you even agreed to go in the first place. Silena was currently digging around her closet for something to wear, and let out a groan as she turned toward you.

"Y/N, this one or this one," she held up a pink dress and a nearly Identical slightly darker pink dress.

"Silena, I hate to be the one to say this, but I swear its not this serious," she rolled her eyes as she threw down the dresses and went back into her closet. "I liked the pink one though."

She kept running through her closet before pulling out a black dress, "Is this yours, I don't remember buying this?"

"Hm," you sat up and faced her examining the dress. "Did you not buy this during your secret little 'emo' phase?"

"God don't remind me," you chuckled at her embarrassment. "Suits you though, here. Maybe you can wear it later."

She tossed you the dress and she was right. It did suit you. "Maybe I can."

﹒º. ౨ৎ

＠Y/N2lit ● 20 min

Liked by BeauregardOnTop and others... ＠Y/N2lit: me n my sister a lit asf duo ＠BeauregardOnTop View comments...

＠BeauregardOnTop: ayo emo ass fit?? →＠Y/N2lit: ＠BeauregardOnTop this is ur dress?? but if I brought up ur emo phase suddenly im the villian right? →＠BeauregardOnTop: ＠Y/N2lit oh okay sorry

＠percy2lit: holy skibidi →＠Y/N2lit: WHY DID U CHANGE UR USER TO MATCH MINE →＠percy2lit: wow I didn't even notice🤷🏻‍♂️ →＠Y/N2lit: delete ur acc lil boy

﹒º. ౨ৎ

'Who does he think he is?' You and Silena were still in her room getting ready while she put on her 16th layer of lipgloss.

"Your gonna run out of lipgloss, and you just bought it," you said without looking up from your phone.

"I need to look as good as possible," you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes.

"My god you'll be fine. You would have guys falling at your feet even if your lips were chapped and gross."

She jokingly glared and you chuckled, suddenly the door bell ringed. You and Silena walked downstairs and saw your dad standing by the door staring at Percy, not looking very amused.

"Percy," you asked.

"Hey Y/N, I said I'd pick you up at nine didn't I?"

You looked down and saw that it was in fact, nine on the dot. "You're a punctual fella aint ya?"

"And what's going on here," you dad sternly asked. He looked between you two with an eyebrow raised.

"Well," your sister started. "Y/N here is going out, so that means so can I, right?"

"You look really good by the way," Percy interjected, earning a glare from your dad and a chuckle from your sister.

"And how were you planning me on 'picking me up,'" you used air quotes as you ignored your dad. "Did you plan on stuffing me in the basket of your bike?"

Percy looked back at his blue bike laying down in the lawn, then back at you. "Maybe I didn't think that far ahead, but its the thought that counts, no?"

You laughed at his effort. "Yeah okay, sure. Anyways I'm driving," you said as you swung your fingers around your fingers and walked out to your car.

﹒º. ౨ৎ

Charles and Leo were at the party, one was drinking in peace and the other one was slowly starting to freak out. Guess who's who.

"Dude, just relax," Leo said as he tried shoving his drink into Charles face. He just moved it away with his hand.

"You don't understand me sometimes."

"Thank fucking god. I think I'd kill myself," Charles just glared at Leo, and he held his arms up in surrender. Both of them paused when they heard the front door open and Charles whipped his head around. He saw Silena walk in and he could've sworn a fly flew in his mouth. Her pink dress fit her beautifully and the way her long dark hair fell behind her made her look unreal.

"Y/Ns actually pretty hot when she tries," Leo nodded approvingly. He turned to his friend and saw him shamelessly staring at the other sister. "Dude, you look like a creep. Go talk to her."

"Your welcome," Charles clearly was not paying attention.

"The house is on fire."

"Yeah no, I got it."

"I'm literally getting my dick sucked right now."

"Cool- what," Charles turned as quick as possible and stared right a Leo.

"The house on fire gets no reaction but me getting a blowjob is absolutely outlandish??" Leo sassed.

"Can you not talk about your dick??"

"Can you focus up on your lady," Leo pointed back over to Silena, and to the slowly approaching Luke coming in from 'round the corner. "Might be time to lock in, I dunno know though, don't quote me."

Charles shrugged Leo off and went walking towards Silena. "Hey, you made it."

"Yeah thanks to you," Silena said as she continued to scan the room. She looked back at Charles and quickly looked him up and down and cleared her throat. "You clean up nice y'know."

"Yeah, you look-"

"Hey gorgeous," Luke announced from behind Silena, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "Glad your here."

Silena smiled as she thanked him and looked back at Charles. "Hey Charles, I'll see you around, alright?"

"Yeah, um. Sure," Charles watched Luke smiled at him like an asshole as he led Silena away. Charles turned back around and made his way towards Leo again.

﹒º. ౨ৎ

You watched from afar as Luke made his move on your sister, sending you weird looks as he did so. God how you hated him more than anything. He was a massive douche and it bothered you to think Silena could like a guy like that, but then again, surface deep attractions all he's got going for him, and you knew your sister would hopefully find that out on her own.

You just tried to ignore it and went off to the kitchen for some shots. You saw a half filled bottle Smirnoffs and quickly secured it for yourself.

One shot. Two shot.

Then Percy walked into the kitchen. "Woah, whats the rush?"

"I only had two," you said as Percy took a shot for himself. He decided that was it if this was the way you were going to drink throughout the night. "Isn't this what I'm 'supposed' to be doing. Drinking and dancing?"

You snatched the bottle and took a third shot. You knew you should've probably stopped there, at least for now, but Luke was terribly flirting with your sister, and murder was depressingly illegal. Percy looked away for a second and when he looked back you were gone. He quickly walked around trying to look for you when he was stopped by Charles.

"Dude, we have to stop this," he said.

"Stop what," Percy asked.

"This whole thing," he waved his arms around. "She doesn't want me, she just wants him."

He looked sad and defeated, and Percy felt bad. And weirdly enough, he didn't want to stop taking you out. "Charles, do you like her or not? Is she worth this whole thing?"

"I mean, I thought so but-"

"But nothing, yes or no?"

"Yeah, yeah she is."

"Then no, this isn't over till you get the girl, and I know you can dude," Percy patted Charles shoulders and walked off to find you. He saw you across the room taking another shot, but when he went to speed walk over to you he was stopped yet again. This time, by Luke.

"God, I knew you were the right person to turn to."

"Huh," Percy turned confused, and was starting to get annoyed.

"You did the impossible, removing the stick from Y/N's ass," Luke cheered.

"Yeah whatever," Percy rolled his eyes, getting more bothered with the way people spoke about you. And before he got the chance to push Luke away and make his way back over to you, the music started blaring and cheering started getting louder, including Luke's cheering. Percy was now purely annoyed, he just wanted to make his way back over to you, hopefully stopping you from taking anymore shots.

He walked toward the center of the cheering to see you hopping on a table and dancing to the beat of the roaring music. Your body was swaying and Percy right then and there forgot that he was paid to take you here. He forgot that if it wasn't for some random guy coming up to him wanting to date your sister, he wouldn't be standing here watching you dance like there was no one in the room, like it was just you and him right now.

He wondered where'd he be right now if he had said no. Would he be home, or would he maybe have found another girl in this short time period? Probably not, but anything could happened in such a short time frame, like this. Percy thought there was something about a girl who can so brazenly insult you like it was nothing, yet still bandaged you up if you were hurt. He was quickly snapped from his daydream when you slipped from the table and fell into his arms.

"Oh, its you," you blew raspberries in his face as you went to stand up. "I'll be fine."

As you went to stand, you started stumbling back down, making Percy grab you again. "Yup, your very fine."

"Stop flirting with me Jackson," you rolled your eyes and he just laughed. He started leading you out the house, away from all the noise, and all the alcohol, so you could rest up. You've had one too many drinks and it was now time to stop. "I wanna sleep."

You two were outside, and you had wandered off and found a nearby bench to lay down on. "You shouldn't walk off like this, might get kidnapped y'know."

"Oh and you'd care? I'm only ever mean to you if you hadn't noticed."

"Well of course, you know I think I might have a thing for girls who hate me."

"As opposed to what, the girls who like you? Because I've yet to see those," Percy grabbed your arms and stood you up. He rummaged through his pockets for your keys. Percy was thankful that your dress didn't have pockets and wouldn't have to wrestle you for said keys.

"See, just like that, why have compliments when I could get insulted like there's no tomorrow" he said as he opened the door for you. He walked over to the drivers seat and when he sat down you gave him a weird look. "Yes?"

"Can you even drive?"

"Just because I don't have a car doesn't mean I don't have a license," you were still staring straight at him, looking between both his eyes.

"Your eyes are really sea-green, I really like sea-green," you smiled and Percy felt speechless. He smiled softly.

"Lets get you home."

﹒º. ౨ৎ

Silena was absolutely bored out of her mind. For the past who knows who long she's been forced to taking pictures of Luke for his instagram. His excuse? 'your gorgeous hands take gorgeous pictures.'

If he called her 'gorgeous' one more time there, Silena might've shown up. She handed him back the phone as he continued to talk about himself, again. That seems to be all he ever does. 'What the hell did I ever see in him,' Silena thought.

After like 15 minutes, the party was getting stale and people were starting to leave. The two walked out together when Silena was approached by a good friend of hers, Drew.

"So Silena, ready to hit the next party," Luke asked.

"Darn," she looked down at her phone. "Gotta be home in 20 minutes."

She pretended to look disappointed when Drew quickly spoke up, "I don't have to be home till like, 2-3AM."

She boasted as Silena looked her up and down. "That settles it. Silena, this is your last shot. You coming or not?"

"Nope, I can't. Sorry," she shrugged as they quickly sped off into Luke's convertible. Silena rolled her eyes she realized she now didn't have a ride home. Looking around, the only person she saw was Charles. Despite feeling awkward for having somewhat blown him off earlier, she still approached him.

"Hey there Charles," Silena waved. He half-heartedly smiled back. "Can you, um- give me a ride home?"

Charles felt his heart slightly speed up, but still felt slightly dejected. Silena had sent the whole night with Luke, why would she not just leave with him? "Yeah, of course."

They both drove home in silence. It felt kind of awkward, then Charles had pulled up in front of the Beauregard house and parked. The two sat in silence not moving, but when Silena turned over, Charles seemed to have a face on. "Charles, is something wrong?"

"Is something wrong?"

"Well yeah-"

"No nothing. There's nothing wrong. I mean sure yeah I went through the trouble to get your sister asked out so you'd finally be able to date. But of course I did it for Luke. I did it for Luke but I literally learned how to speak French for you-"

Charles was quickly cut off by Silena leaving over and grabbing Charles face into a kiss that could've melted him on the spot. They went on for a moment before Silena went back into her seat. The two were panting before Silena spoke up.

"A whole language, just for me," she giggled, and Charles felt slightly embarrassed for having admitted to that. "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

He nodded as he watched Silena step out of the car, waving to him as she walked off to the front door. Charles started cheering in his car before driving off back to his own home.

﹒º. ౨ৎ

It was the next Beauregard's turn to be dropped off by a man tonight.

As Percy parked your car in its normal spot in the drive way, he turned to look at you. "You still wasted or are you sobering up now?"

"I'm as sober as a judge," you declared, waving your finger in the air. You turned toward him and stared at him, reaching over and twirling a piece of his black hair between your fingers. "Your hairs soft."

You were close now. Close enough for him to smell the vodka expelling from your breathe. You looked into his eyes, and leaned slightly in. Percy thought about leaning in, but the shots on shots you took tonight made it not such a good idea.

When you noticed he didn't lean in, you felt a mix between mad and embarrassed. You quickly grabbed your keys and slammed the car door shut on your way out, running up to your house door and rushing in as fast as you could. Percy sighed as he sat back, feeling like an idiot.

One sister had a happy ending with the boy she didn't expect, and the other couldn't even get a kiss goodnight from a guy who was paid to be here (more and more everyday, he cared less and less about the money).

﹒º. ౨ৎ

✰Taglist: @liviessun @lara20aral @balletfilmss @job-ross-the-second @brokecollegebitch @riaaavm @avihashearts4lix @huera-ne @zn0v1a @sofiacblair @itzjustj-1000 (just lemme know if you wanna be added)

[g1rld1ary]

jealousy, jealousy ; anthony lockwood x reader (part 2)

➻ i'm a big valentine's fan can you tell... (also thank u sm for 20 followers?! in like a week or 2?!!!)

➻ word count: 2008

➻ synopsis: you're at Fittes' Valentine's Day ball with Lockwood but things don't go quite as you intend. maybe all that's needed for the both of you to confess is some good old-fashioned jealousy

➻ warnings: ooc + villain kipps, kissing without consent + implications of sexual assault (just kissing), swearing, angst + fluff

➻ (part one here)

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Lockwood thought he’d never seen someone more stunning. He knew you were beautiful — he’d spent enough hours staring at you in Arif’s to deduce that fact, but this was the first time he’d ever seen you not in your work uniform and your practical tied-back hairstyles.

Now, though, you were on a whole new level. Your red dress was simple but classic, grazing the floor beneath your white heels. The red spaghetti straps were hidden by your hair, extending past your shoulders in gentle waves, a frilly white barrette keeping it out of your face. Lockwood was, very unusually, completely lost for words.

“You look…” He stuttered, grappling for any words that could encapsulate the feelings in his heart.

“You’re a total knockout,” Lucy interrupted, and Lockwood nodded, grateful for the words supplied. Even George looked mildly impressed, which you took over the exasperated expressions you got when you were serving him at work. Truthfully, the source of those looks was usually Lockwood and his habit of abandoning work the moment you entered his periphery, but George wasn’t above lightly blaming you for it.

You kept Lockwood & Co meeting your family to an absolute minimum, but still not short enough to avoid your mum giving you several pointed looks.

“He’s cute,” She mouthed and you flushed almost the same colour as your dress. You tried to shut her up before anyone noticed and you thought you’d succeeded, but Lucy’s teasing eyebrow raise had you burying your head in your hands.

Soon as you could you’d ushered Lockwood & Co out of your house, waving goodbye to your parents and trying to silence all their embarrassing conversation by talking louder to your friends. Lockwood, much to your chagrin, was extremely fond of them and had made premature plans to see them again, delighting in your embarrassment at their insistence of telling childhood stories.

Still, you arrived at the Fittes building far too quickly for your liking, and you subconsciously grabbed onto Lockwood’s arm to keep him close. He looked down at you, eyes soft as they searched yours. He gave a quick pat to the arm holding his, offering you silent support.

“It’ll be fun, hey? Promise if it sucks we can ditch whenever you like — I doubt George will last that long anyway.” You nodded in response, not trusting your voice not to waiver.

You looked around in wonder as you entered the great hall where the ball was being held. It was decked out in red and pink, hearts and cherubs tastefully adorning each surface. You were astounded by the opulence of not only the room but its inhabitants. All of the agents invited were similarly dressed up to the nines, though you personally didn’t think anybody compared to Lockwood in his perfectly tailored suit.

The four of you wandered around the party for a while, and you were admittedly shocked at Lockwood’s charm and easy conversation. You knew he was a good talker — you’d been told off a ridiculous amount of time at the store because Lockwood had kept you entranced with a story or a joke, but he could seemingly keep an endless conversation with anyone he came across regardless of their age or occupation. You followed him around like a lost puppy, smiling nicely when you made eye contact and giving your name when someone cared enough to ask. The moments you liked the most though were between the endless list of people to greet, where Lockwood would crane his neck down to whisper what he really thought about the previous acquaintances and you could make a joke in return.

You were surprised by someone calling your name. “You look stunning tonight.” The voice belonged to Quill Kipps. You smiled at him, paying him a compliment in return. You rather liked Kipps — you knew there was some rivalry between him and Lockwood but it was frankly none of your interest or business, and Kipps had always been perfectly lovely to you. You could feel Lockwood glowering beside you and sighed, hoping there wouldn’t be a confrontation in the middle of a ball. Though you couldn’t say you minded the protective — and maybe slightly possessive — arm he’d snaked around your waist, holding you closer to him and further from Kipps.

You made slight smalltalk with him, but the conversation was short lived since neither boy was prepared to speak any kindness to the other. You waved softly as Kipps promised to see you later, and you scolded Lockwood when you were out of his earshot.

“Today is a day all about love and you’re staring down Kipps! What is that all about?”

“I can tell you our tragic angsty backstory later, love, do you want to dance?” You thought Lockwood was smarter than he was sometimes given credit for as that was possibly the most effective redirection tactic he could have tried, and you were soon on the dance floor together, swaying softly to the cheesy, old fashioned love songs that had been playing all night.

You couldn’t believe what was happening to you. Firstly that Lockwood had asked you here at all; it was your first time seeing each other out of the confines of the cafe and it was all going so well — the two of you got on like a house on fire. Secondly, that you were then slow dancing with him. His hands sat on your waist, warm against the silky fabric of your dress. In turn, yours wrapped around his neck, and neither of you could contain your smiles. You thought in the back of your head, trying not to jinx it, that he might even try to kiss you — and you doubted you would say no to him.

You’d settled into a comfortable silence, dancing amongst the sea of couples, and you wondered if Lockwood was having the same thoughts you were. You didn’t get the opportunity to ask him, though, as George and Lucy were at your side, raving about some high level agency figure that they were desperate to meet. You saw the way Lockwood’s eyes lit up at the name drop and drew your hands back, not wanting to be the reason he gave up an important introduction.

He hesitated for a moment, looking at you. You gave him a soft smile, encouraging him to leave.

“C’mon, Lockwood! Your sappy slow dance can wait, when are we going to get this opportunity again?” George whined and you both flushed at that — any romance sucked out of the mood. Lucy smacked him in the side but the moment was gone, Lockwood holding back a groan.

“What about you go get us some drinks while we do this and we’ll be back before you know it,” Lockwood suggested and you nodded, trying to look cool and unaffected. You said a quick goodbye before you split away from the group, heading to the other side of the ridiculous foyer.

You went to the bathroom, taking full advantage of the luxurious facilities and making extremely awkward eye contact with a woman in the mirror as you washed your hands, shrinking as you noticed how much more glamorous she was.

With Lockwood you felt like you somewhat belonged, his touch grounding you and dissolving a large part of your nerves. But now he was gone, and you felt terribly alone and like everyone who looked at you could tell you weren’t supposed to be here.

Those were your musings as you made your way to the drinks table, intending to make one for Lockwood and yourself as you’d promised. A hand laid on your shoulder from behind you, making you jump slightly.

“I meant what I said before,” Kipps said, turning you gently to face him. “You really look amazing tonight, but you do every day.”

“Oh.” You blushed, “Thank you, Quill. That’s very kind of you.”

“Care for a dance?”

“Uh, I don’t know if—” Your protests were ignored as you were swept up in his arms, limbs stiff from your discomfort. He kept trying to make conversation but you weren’t much use, suddenly uncomfortable with someone you were used to calling a friend.

“I really like you,” Kipps said and your mouth dropped open.

“Have you been drinking?” You asked, trying to ease yourself out of his grip — unsuccessfully.

“Only a little. For confidence. Look, I want to be with you, for you to be mine. What do you think?” You could feel the colour drain from your face, your feet faltering beneath you.

“Quill, you’re really lovely and all but —” He was kissing you. Why was Kipps kissing you? And why couldn’t you get him to let go?

“Lockwood!” You heard Lucy call behind you, and you managed to wrench yourself away from Kipps long enough to see Lockwood storming out of the hall. Panicking, you shoved Kipps away, pushing through the crowd to try and find the boy you’d arrived with.

The winter air outside was aggressive and sent goosebumps up your uncovered arms but you disregarded it, catching up to Lockwood.

“It wasn’t what it looks like, Lockwood, I promise!” Lockwood whipped around to face you, coattails flying with the wind. For a moment he looked frightening and you faltered slightly, shrinking back from him.

“Wasn’t what it looks like? So you weren’t just making out with the only person I really hate? While you were here with me? Yeah, right,” He said, breathing ragged. You hated seeing him angry, you just wanted to hold his face and explain everything, but you figured he wouldn’t be very receptive to it right now. “And to think I really thought I had a chance.” You didn’t hear what was whispered under his breath, your own temper bubbling after being yelled at so unjustly.

“God, Lockwood, can you get your head out of your arse for one second? Do you really think this is how I wanted the evening to go? Being felt up by Kipps because he’s had too many drinks to realise he’s not the guy I like?” You could see Lockwood’s eyes soften a bit, his guilt flaring up. “Yeah, not plan A. All night I have felt stupid and out of place in this big fancy ball and I was fine with it because at least I was here with you, but now you’re yelling at me and acting like you’re the one that’s been hurt, all because you’re jealous?”

“Me? Jealous? I—” He spluttered, but you weren’t finished.

“Clearly you are jealous of something — why else would you be acting so childish?”

“Fine!” He yelled, “I am jealous! I’m jealous of Kipps because I’ve been trying to work up the courage to kiss you all night after pining for you for months. I’m jealous because I like you so much that I can’t stop thinking about you and George is sick of hearing about you and—”

“Lockwood?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.” You cupped his cheeks, pressing your lips to his. What you meant as a quick show of affection and method of stopping Lockwood’s rambling quickly turned into something more, something hungrier as Lockwood brought you into him. Whilst Kipp’s arms around you were threatening, restricting, Lockwood’s were warm, comforting, and you couldn’t help but melt into him, adding as much intensity as the both of you could handle.

Behind you, you could hear the telltale sound of a salt bomb and pulled away enough to laugh against Lockwood’s lips.

“You did not just fight a ghost while we were making out,” You giggled, pressing another peck which he chased after hungrily.

“Can’t have you getting ghost-touched when I’ve finally got you in my arms.” You both smiled, lacing your hands together as you prepared to go sort out the mess that had been left behind.

You supposed your Valentine’s Day had turned out alright after all.

[tomkaulitzssgirl]

could u pls do enemies to lovers w tom that leads to sex? btw i adore ur writing its sooo good !!

I Was Scared | Tom Kaulitz

a normal saturday night. you were getting ready to go to your friend crystal’s house. you decided to wear a white t-shirt and a jeans skirt.

there would also been other people of your group of friends, even though not everyone. you guys were around ten people, which was a lot sometimes.

you couldn’t really always agree to do something because of all the different opinions, but somehow you made it work.

tonight besides you and crystal, your other friends, bill, gustav, georg and unfortunately for you, bill’s twin brother tom would come.

unfortunately because you and tom didn’t really have a good relationship and it was all his fault. at first when you guys met, he didn’t really acknowledge you, he talked to everyone but you.

after sometime, he started picking on you, making fun of little things and always being mean to you.

you didn’t know why, you always had been gentle and nice, even when he was a dick, because you couldn’t really be rude to people.

but you had your moments where you lost it and talked back to him. he knew you didn’t like him at all.

just the thought of being in the same room as him made you roll your eyes.

he was so different from bill, he was the sweetest person ever and you guys actually had a really good bond. tom made fun of you when he heard you guys talk about things you had in common and luckily bill knew how to clap back.

bill had noticed how tom was acting towards you, he even tried to talk about it to him but tom ignored him.

sometimes you wished you could’ve been friends since you were always together, but the boy seemed to hate you.

around nine pm, you took your car keys and drove over your friends’s house. she welcomed you with an hug before making you come in.

the others were already there, all sitting down on the couch.

“we were waiting for you to start the movie.” georg sang out with a big smile. you chuckled giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“sorry for being late, the traffic is horrible.” you noticed that the only seat available was the one next to tom and you slapped yourself mentally.

you awkwardly sat down, noticing he was taking a lot of space since his leges were spread open and he was slouched down. you were between him and the couch’s end.

he didn’t even look at you, nor did he say hi. he was simply listening to the others making conversations.

you preferred it that way, it was better if he stayed quiet.

“so, what are we gonna watch?” crystal asked as she turned on the tv, going on netflix.

“oh oh, there is a new movie out! it’s called to all boys i’ve loved before, we should totally watc-“ you were about to finish your sentence but a scoff coming from tom cut you off.

“what?” you turned to him, your smile disappearing.

“what kind of shit movie is that?” he rhetorically asked, looking at you. you realised how close you were in that moment.

“you never watched it, how can you know if it’s bad?” you squinted your eyes at him, shaking your head.

“it’s recommended by you so i guess it’s pretty shitty.” tom shrugged as if he had just stated a fact.

“tom. stop.” bill called him out, glaring at him from the other couch.

“mind your business.” tom said before sighing and getting up, “i’m gonna take a beer.”

he walked to the kitchen nonchalantly and you followed him with your eyes. you felt anger but also sadness inside. why did he have to be so cruel to you?

the others decided to put it on anyway, maybe even to make you a little bit happier after what tom had said. they could see it had made you upset.

you fidgeted with your bracelet as you watched the tv, without really paying attention to the movie.

tom came back some minutes later with a bowl of popcorn and a beer. he put the bowl at the center of the coffee table infront of us before grabbing a bunch and stuffing his mouth.

you tried to ignore the smacking sound but it was too much. he kept chewing those popcorns almost with his mouth open.

“could you stop chewing so loud?” you said almost in a whisper since you didn’t want to disturb the others.

“could you stop being a pain in the ass?” he spat back without even turning to look at you, putting more popcorns in his mouth.

you exhaled heavily, making him chuckle. he enjoyed this, he enjoyed making you feel down.

deciding to ignore him, you went back to watch the movie that you so wanted to see, before a loud obnoxious burp interrupted the silence in the room.

everyone turned around to look at tom.

“ew, you’re disgusting.” you commented making a nauseous face.

“yeah, you’re a pig tom.” georg agreed shaking his head.

“oh fuck off.” he rolled his eyes continuing to drink his beer, “can we fucking change this movie? it’s boring.”

“it’s boring because you aren’t paying attention to it.” you didn’t know why you kept engaging with him, he was too focused on being right than accepting what you said.

“no, it’s boring because it’s a stupid ass movie that only losers like you like.” this time it was enough.

“why are you always so mean to me?” you finally spat out, your whole body turned to his side, “i’ve never done anything to you except being a good person even when you treated me like shit! you didn’t give me a chance since day one, tom. i’m sick of your bullshit. next time don’t call me to hang out it’s he’s here too.” you concluded talking to everyone before getting up and running to the bathroom upstairs.

you shocked everyone since you had never had an outburst like that. you never got angry.

“tom, you’re a fucking jerk.” bill shook his head, letting out an heavy sight.

“yeah, why do you always treat her that way?” crystal asked stopping the movie.

tom stayed quiet, observing the aim of his hoodie that had become interesting in that moment.

“yeah, it’s not like she has ever done something to you so why do you act-“

“it’s because i like her, okay?!” tom finally blurted out almost yelling.

a general “what?” echoed in the living room. they were shocked, tom wasn’t someone that admitted his feelings for someone or that actually liked someone seriously. he only wanted physics stuff.

“yeah i said it. i like her almost since the day i met her but i don’t want to like her.” he explained almost embarrassed.

“so you treat her like shit for keeping her away from you?” georg asked wrinkling his eyebrows, “what kind of fucking cliché is it?”

“i know. it’s stupid but if i keep her distant, this feelings will go away. everything will go back to normal.” tom said, lighting up a cigarette.

“tom, you should go talk to her. tell her the truth. you’d rather lose her than be in a relationship? don’t be ridiculous.” bill always tried to make his brother think, especially in this type of situations. he was the romantic and lover one, never had just one night stands like his brother.

tom’s irritation flared but he got up from the couch, knowing bill was right. he wouldn’t admit that to him though.

he walked upstairs, where the bathroom was, as he kept smoking his cigarette. knocking on the door, only silence could be heard.

“y/n?”

“go away.” you immediately answered as soon as you heard his voice.

“let me come in.” he leaned with his shoulder against the wall and looked at the floor.

“are you dumb? go away.” tom could hear your broken voice and that made his body fill with guilt.

“i need to talk to you, it’s important.”

you didn’t answer, but after a couple of seconds the door opened. tom entered slowly and you closed the door behind you.

you stared at tom with your arms folded against your chest, an eyebrow raised. “so? and also, you know i hate smoke.”

tom noticed your puffy and red eyes.

“were you crying?” he asked throwing the cigarette away down the wc.

“no, my eyes happen to be swollen.” you answered sarcastically before sitting down on the floor.

tom played with his lip piercing, unsure of what to do next, deciding to sit down next to you.

“what do you want tom? if you’re here to bother me some more just go-“

“i’m not. i’m here to say sorry.” his words ran from his mouth and he almost felt ashamed, he had never say sorry, not directly at least.

“i’m sorry, because i was selfish. i didn’t think of how everything would make you feel, i just thought about protecting myself.” he looked at you with truthful eyes.

“from what?” you tilted your head to the side as you grew confused.

tom let out a shaky breath. now or never.

“from loving you.”

a moment of silence filled the bathroom, as you looked at him, finding that unbelievable. how could he love you and treat you like that at the same time?

“w-what…how? what?” you didn’t even know what to say. your mind was full of questions that wouldn’t come out.

“you heard me. i love you, i was treating you like shit so it would go away but it fucking didn’t and it just made you hate me. sorry.” there it was. his full explanation. he had said it and couldn’t go back in time.

“is this another prank of yours? because if it is it, isn’t funny tom.”

he didn’t say anything, he just placed his hand on your cheek and crashed his lips against yours. your eyes widened.

tom asked for entrance with his tongue and slowly you let him in, wrapping your arms around his neck.

when you broke away, you kept sharing small pecks as your eyes met, a small smile on both of your lips.

you both didn’t know what to say next, it was like the kiss you shared had said it all.

“you’re such a dick.” you commented with a small laugh, shaking your head as you looked down. your bodies were now closer than ever, his hands on your hips.

he smirked knowing what that meant, it was done, you were finally his. his lips went to your neck, leaving small wet pecks on your skin.

you were covered in goosebumps, giving him more access to kiss you. “t-tom…”

he shushed you, getting you to lay down on the floor as he got on top of you, “i wanna make you feel good. can i? do you want to?”

you waited before nodding, deciding that you wanted to live that moment fully.

“t-tom but i-i never…” you were shy to say that you had never had sex before. he was about to be your first.

he seemed to understand what you wanted to say without you even saying it, and he nodded gently touching your skin under your shirt. “it’s okay, i’ll be gentle.”

he removed your shirt, leaving you in your black bra. he stared at your covered beasts, leaning down to kiss your chest.

his hands traveled to the strips of your bra, gently sliding them down. you knew where he was getting at so you leaned up a bit, making it easy for him to remove it completely.

your back touched the cold floor and your arms tried to cover yourself, but he blocked you, placing your arms above your head. “you’re beautiful, don’t be embarrassed.”

his sweet words encouraged you to feel more confident, finding the strength to kiss him hungrily.

tom hummed into the kiss, one hand keeping him up for balance as the other fidgeted with his belt. you decided to help him remove it, before he took off his pants and shirt completely.

you stared at his body almost drooling. he was so hot, almost like he was created by greek gods, with his defined muscles and abs.

tom smirked noticing you staring at him while gulping down, before sliding down your skirt and throwing it somewhere.

you wrapped your legs around his waist as he lowered his boxers, revealing his hard member. you couldn’t believe your eyes.

“will that fit in?” you couldn’t comprehend how something that big could go in you.

tom laughed, “yes, cause you’ll take it like a good girl, right?”

you bit down your lip, nodding at his words, his hand coking closer to your core. he began rubbing your clit, making you gasp. you never felt something like this before.

“does that feel good?” tom asked in your ear, his hot breath on your neck.

“y-yes, o-oh my god.” you stuttered as you moaned, his hands working magic on you. suddenly, he inserted a finger in your entrance.

“slow!” you almost screamed as you felt like it feared you apart.

“sorry baby. fuck, you’re so wet.” he kissed your neck, going slower. as you get used to the feeling, he began going in and out of you, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“t-tom, i want you. please…” you begged arching your back. he stroked himself, nodding frantically.

“you asked so nicely baby, you’re such a good girl for me huh?” he slowly came closer to your entrance with his tip.

“y-yes, just for you…” your mouth formed like a ‘o’ shape as he teased you, going up and down with his member.

“ready?” he asked looking deeply into your eyes.

you nodded needing him more than ever. you never craved someone’s body this way.

tom went gently in you, groaning as he felt you around him. “shit, you’re tight. it feels so good.”

you squeezed your eyes shut at the pain, feeling it ten times worse than you did with his finger.

he was still, his hands at the sides of your head, looking down at your expressions that turned him on even more. “tell me when i can move.”

your arms found their way around his neck, “y-you can now.”

tom nodded, starting to go slowly in and out of your feminine part. your whimpers, shy moans drove him crazy, he just wanted to fuck you into oblivion but he knew he had to wait for that.

his gaze burned on your skin, examining your unholy expressions.

“g-go faster, please!” you moaned loudly, your hands gripped his dreads.

his pace quickened, finding easily your sweet spot, making you a mess beneath him. you were heaving repeatedly, mumbling disconnected words, his name a mantra.

“you feel so fucking good baby, you like it huh? you’re so lucky. oh shit.” he kept sending you over the edge with his dirty talk, throwing his head back.

“kiss me.” you breathed out, his hands gripping your thighs. he didn’t waste no time, kissing you sloppily.

you kept moaning against his lips, his thrusting becoming harder. the sounds of your skin clapping, your whimpers and his groans were the only thing that could be heard.

“shit i’m about to cum. are you close, baby girl?” tom said placing his forehead against yours.

you felt an unusual heat on your lower stomach and you furrowed your eyebrows. “y-yeah but…”

“no, let go baby. you need to let it go.” he shook his head knowing what we’re you about to say. maybe it was because was your first time but you kept holding back.

tom noticed it so he took the matter into his hands, pressing one of them on your lower body.

your eyes widened as your orgasm took over, sending shivers down your spine. tom followed right after you, finishing with a grunt.

he fell on top of you, breathless. your legs trembled as you were still riding your climax.

he looked up at you before raising his head and kissing your lips. “you did so good.”

a smile formed on your face, blushing hard at his words. you couldn’t believe you had sex with tom, someone you thought hated you.

“y/n, wanna be my girl?”

it took a lot of courage for him to ask you that.

“of course i do.” you cupped his cheeks, pecking him on his lips.

neither of you could stop smiling, totally drunk in love.

[syerkrustydawgz]

‼️SPOILERS (If you haven't watched Prime yet)‼️

Why were people so quick to call Nine a villain-- Sonic was unaware he had been 'using' Nine to get the shards back into place and had gotten agitated by the fact Nine had the last shard- (He also gets hissy fits and agitated when things stop going his way and very VERY impatient because he's desperate to fix what he broke and this only led to more damage) As someone once said, indirect positive manipulation. So much praise came out of Sonic's mouth and yet he failed to see that it was negative at the same time. It could be seen as pity, lying- all that junk.

"Whoa Tails looks upset-" "Tails is never upset-"

Because he doesn't show it around people. As others say, he's supposed to be the 'smarty'. Tails never told anyone else but Sonic how he felt about things. He already has self doubt and compares himself to Sonic a lot anyways. (Frontiers) Whatever Sonic does, he does. Nine however, had all the little hints click as soon as Sonic opened his mouth at the end of the last episode.

Sonic has never told Nine the real reason behind collecting shards. Nine lashed out because Sonic can't stop seeing him as 'Tails', someone he isn't. I think it's so stupid and messed up to paint someone as a bad guy because they got their hopes up on having a literal person in their life only to be backstabbed. He's aware that he'll cease to exist if the shards are put back together, that's only one of the reasons he took the shards. I'd do the same if I knew everybody would 'die' just so someone's friends I'm compared to can exist again.

Nine didn't deserve what he had went through. He already got caught, almost got Sonic killed with Chaos Sonic, the Knuckles & Rouge of New Yoke don't even trust him because they misunderstood the reason for why he did what he did. This is the second time Nine has taken a shard and been labeled as a bad guy yet again because nobody understood how he felt-

He literally and I mean literally got pissed at the sight of Tails and even mentioned it- 'I AM REAL- just not your real friend'

He is h u r t i n g- he is conflicted- he and I quote cannot trust anyone but himself-

It's so painful to see people see the points of interactions just to ignore it 😭

edit: I'm also gonna add this. At the beginning of prime when Sonic and Nine first met, Nine was not very trusting of him. In response to Nine's trauma he brings up how things were with him and Tails. This does not make Nine feel better, it's still Sonic believing Nine is Tails. Nine was led to believe that if Tails had a chance then maybe he did too, even if how they met was completely different and at the worst timings. This is why Nine feels constantly hurt whenever Sonic denies or compares him. Sonic never gets Nine's name right, he says "Tails Nine" and Nine has to constantly correct him. The fact he adds Tails only makes Nine more agitated.

He only wanted a clean slate because he believes that with Sonic his life could be better too. Just like Tails'. He wants what Tails has. He thinks he's better than Tails. But he is aware now that it won't happen because again, all he was to Sonic was 'Tails'. A Tails that needed to be 'guided' and put back in his 'place'.

[vroomvroommbtch]

Car’s outside - DR x fem!OC

Masterlist

Summary: They hated the distance more than anything in the world, so they finally get to do something about it. 

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x fem!OC

Warnings:  Fluff af and language bc idk how to write without swearing.

Word count: 3.9k

A/N: Did I spend my whole Saturday writing this? Yes. Was ROC an inspiration somehow? Maybe. I’m obsessed with writing 2018 Dan and Jas? Absolutely. The fact that I finished this is a miracle?? Yes sir. Anyway, hi kids! This one its kind of short but cute af so I hope you like it. I love this two together bc they’re the most wholesome couple in the world. Whatever, hope u like it and let’s pray I get to post again soon lol Let me know what you think?? See ya soon!  ♥️✌🏻

---

Car’s outside.

-

July 2018.

London was gloomy. It was yet another grey day waiting for the rain to fall at any given time, but Jas knew what made it even more grey and sad was Daniel’s bags right by the door, waiting for him to grab them and leave. He was going to leave the next morning because he needed to be in Germany for yet another race, which meant just being able to see him through the screen of her phone. It meant no kissing, no touching, no hugging and just thinking about it made Jas feel uneasy.

After almost one month of blissful kind of domestic life, letting each other go for two weeks sounded insane. Damn, it wasn’t even two whole weeks because she was gonna be in Hungary for the last race of the first part of the calendar. She was gonna be there by his side ready to go on vacations with Daniel as soon as his job was done, but it felt awful even if they were going to be two hours' flight from each other. Two hours flight and nine days apart and she was gonna be back in his arms. Nine pathetic long days to be back in her favorite place in the world. To think about that was what made it bearable.

After six months of relationship, Jas was still not used to letting him go. None of them were used to letting each other go. Even if Daniel was used to not spending much time with his family and friends, he was always telling Jas how difficult it was for him too. ‘I just fucking hate letting you go’ was what he said time after time as they covered each other in kisses. There was no better way to describe it, that’s why during that grey night Jas hugged him a bit tighter, trying to not wake him up in the process. His idea of watching a movie turned into Daniel falling asleep half an hour into whatever random movie he picked up. Then that turned into Jas ignoring the movie and putting her focus on her boyfriend. His face was hiding in the crock of her neck, slow breaths hitting her skin and messy curls tickling her. Even when it was the middle of the goddamn summer and outside it was warm and humid, all she wanted was to stay like that forever, with Daniel using her as his pillow. All she wanted was to make the night longer so Tuesday wouldn’t come.

They both knew how things were and that at some point they always had to say goodbye, but this time was especially hard. Everything was a rollercoaster since Monaco. After their love confession that Sunday everything clearly was different. After that day everything was somehow way more intense, that included the sadness of flying back home to Dublin when Daniel had to go to Canada. She hated it. She hated having to kiss him goodbye and the ‘See you again soon’ promise. She hated those long farewell hugs knowing she couldn’t stay there forever. She hated the feeling inside her chest because her whole body was yelling for her to drop everything and stay. After all, that was the right thing to do. But she had to ignore it, take a deep breath, push the knot in her throat to a side all to whisper a shy ‘I love you’ with a sad smile on her face.

But his week in Canada felt somehow short. The nights were terrible and felt eternal, but the afternoons weren’t that bad and the next thing she knew Jas was on her way to the airport to pick Daniel up. After that, they didn’t move from each other’s side. They went from Dublin to France, not just for the race but also to spend her birthday there. After that they went to Austria and thank God she was there not only for his birthday but also to do everything in her power to calm him down after that terrible DNF on Sunday. After that, they went to the UK and that’s where they had been since then.

It was weeks of waking up and going to bed by his side. It was weeks of not being able to bathe alone because Daniel would sneak in the shower with her every single time. It was weeks of waking up with Daniel between her legs or covering her body with kisses and doing the same for him. It was weeks of giggling as they reminded each other to not be so loud because they were in a hotel room, and someone would complain about the noise. Then it was days of almost a normal life in London. It was days of doing the most normal things a couple could do. It was days of making dinner, grocery shopping, getting a text from Daniel saying ‘I’m on my way home’ and knowing he was not talking about a place but about her. It was weeks of being home simply because they were together, not caring about the country they were in.

After all that she didn’t want to move from his side, but she needed to go back home, and Daniel needed to go to Germany, but all that could wait till the next day. She even wanted to leave dinner for a bit later if that included not moving from her place. They were perfectly fitted together on the couch, and she was so comfortable that moving felt like a tragedy. Moving from there left wrong, but she didn’t have much of an option. All she could do was wish time would freeze for a while, but it was nothing but impossible.

“Baby...” Jas called him as softly as possible, running her fingers around his back under his shirt and tangling her other hand in his messy curls. But just like she imagined, all she got in response was a soft groan coming from her boyfriend, which didn’t surprise her at all. “Danny, baby, c'mon, you gotta get up. I gotta go make dinner” she insisted as she kissed his forehead.

If something always worked with sleepy Daniel was the threat of Jas leaving his side. She couldn’t blame him because every time she would do the same. Every time one of them would be asleep, if the other threatened with leaving, they would automatically react. This time wasn’t different. This time, with the threat of Jas leaving his side, Daniel tightened his grip around her waist, making his statement very clear. “Don’t” was all he said, voice so sleepy and raspy that it did nothing but give Jas another reason to stay.

“Can you look at me, sunshine?” Jas asked gently, kissing his forehead once more. And true to his promise of making all her wishes come true, Daniel looked at her. With the sleepiest face and through half-opened eyelids, Daniel moved out of his little shelter and looked at her. And fuck, how she loved him and his handsome face. She could spend hours just looking at him and kissing every inch of his face. She could stay there the whole night kissing those perfect lips and looking at his brown eyes. All that and his contiguous smile and his crazy curls and that tanned skin were her perdition, so she had to do a big effort to focus and talk again. “Dia duit, grà“

“I’ve no idea what the fuck you just said but it sounded sexy” Daniel murmured, running his nose against hers as he slowly moved one of his hands to her ass, just to rest it here as he would normally do.

And like every single time, Jas would smile and steal one kiss as she moved impossibly close to him because it was never enough when it comes to being near Daniel. “Weren't’ you asleep?” she wondered as his fingers slowly moved around her skin. Not that she couldn’t blame him when she was wearing nothing but panties and one of his shirts.  

“Yeah, but my sexy girlfriend woke me up” he smirked, knocking the air out of her lungs like every time he did that. Daniel’s smile could convince her of absolutely everything, so she could imagine how that night was gonna end.

“Excuse me, you're the one who abandoned me in the middle of the movie. You’re very lucky you’re handsome and I love you very much” Jas joked, poking his ribs as she tried to sound as serious as possible. She was the one who normally would fall asleep in his arms so she would never blame him for such a thing. Nothing would make her feel better than to know that Daniel could get some rest from to time after such a complicated year, so he could sleep all she wanted. The only problem was when she wouldn’t be able to leave the couch without waking him up because he decided to turn into a human version of a koala.

“Sorry ‘bout that, princess” he murmured, moving his fingers through the elastic of her panties as he kissed his way back to her neck. “I can pay you back for the inconvenient”

It took everything from her to not follow his lead. It took everything to not beg Daniel to fuck her right then and there on the couch as they would normally do. It took even more of her to ignore the way he was getting hard against her leg and especially to not move her hip against him. There was  nothing she wanted more than to ride him until the only thing Daniel could remember was her name, but she had to be a grown-up woman and be responsible. She needed to be a grown-up woman even when Daniel was doing his best effort to change her mind with kisses, some gentle bites, and licks on her skin while grabbing handfuls of her ass.

“Later. Now I got shit to do, beauty. Gotta go make dinner” she breathed, biting her tongue as she kept to herself the moan that was threatening to leave her mouth when Daniel kissed the weak spot on her neck.  

“Later”. Another bite, another lick, another kiss, another push of their hips together.

It was terribly hard to resist.

“C’mon, sunshine, I gotta feed you. Mike ain’t here to do the dirty job and if I don’t put food in your body, he’ll kill me, and you’ll get hungry and grumpy” Jas insisted, moving her free hand from his back to his chest to rest it there. Having her hand under his shirt wasn’t going to help much to the situation, but she just couldn’t help it.

“We can order. Besides, you’re the one who gets grumpy when you’re hungry”  

He knew her well. He knew her too damn well. Six months together and Daniel already knew her like the back of his hand. He knew she would get grumpy if she was hungry, he knew how to put a smile on her face even on the worse days, the way to make her fall asleep when it seemed impossible, how to make her moan as any other man could ever do, how to convince her to stop being mad at him even when she could never really get mad at him. Daniel knew all the weak points on her body to make her beg for more and to leave her breathless. But beyond all, Daniel could make her smile brighter and bigger than anyone in the whole world. He knew the way to her heart better than anyone else in the world and that’s why it belonged to him.

But Jas knew Daniel as well as he knew her, that’s why she couldn’t help but smile when he said those words. “You’re the one who complains every time we order something! You’re the one who says my food's better”

“Cause your food’s always better” he affirmed, and Jas could feel his smile against her skin. No matter where they ordered, no matter to which amazing restaurant they went, Daniel would always somehow smile and say ‘It was alright, but I like your food better’. Jas would always joke and say there was no need to lie to her to get laid that night, but she knew Daniel wasn’t joking. Jas was no chef, she was far from that, but unlike her sister, Jas paid attention to the kitchen lessons Aoife and Esmé gave her during her life. What she did was nothing but basic meals, but Daniel said time after time that he loved it. It took a late-night talk over a couple of glasses of wine for Daniel to admit he loved it simply because it tasted like home. After leaving home so young, after being away from Perth for so much time, and especially after being on the road that much, homemade food was something that he could have counted times, so having that thanks to Jas were like a little privilege for him. That’s why Jas tried to cook as much as possible for him when they were together, even when she was too lazy and order sounded like the best option.

“Then let me go and make you some. It’ll be fast. You can keep napping meanwhile. Plus, I ain’t gonna put on my shorts so you can look at my ass while I go” Jas insisted. But when she felt Daniel’s arms going back to her waist to hug her as tightly as possible, and when his lips just gave her one last kiss and then stayed there, she knew there was something else. “What’s going on, baby?”

It took him a second to talk. She could feel his body against her taking a deep breath, she could feel his breath hitting her neck as it left his lips, but more than anything she could feel the doubt in his body. It was hard to think he was the same guy who drove the fastest car in the world. It was crazy to think he was the one who loved to get scared once in a while just because. But Jas knew that guy was also her Danny. Sometimes it was incomprehensible to think that man on the tv was the same man she loved. He was the same Danny that would come to her in the good days and when the world felt too much and when he didn’t want to see anyone else. That was the same Daniel that Jas could feel was doubting and trying to pick the right words to say to his girlfriend. And knowing him the way she did, Jas just waited. She kissed his shoulder, traced lines on his back, and played with his curls as she waited for him to find the right way to say whatever he needed to say. If he needed time, she had all the time in the world for him. And if that wasn’t enough, she was ready to somehow invent more time for him.

“I just don’t want you to go. Not even to the kitchen for five minutes”

There was the issue.

It happened once in a while. Normally, it happened every time they had to let each other go. They knew it was a normal reaction knowing they will have to be away for more time than they will like to. Normally it was Jas the one who had to be reminded that everything was gonna be alright. Generally, it was Daniel the one who had to hold her and promise things were gonna be fine, but sometimes it was the other way around. Sometimes, like that night, Jas was the one who had to be the strong one and make the promises even when her own heart was breaking just for hearing him.

“Baby, we talked about it. Now it's just nine silly days, but then we’ll figure out the rest after the summer break. Y’know I’m not going anywhere” she stated, repeating the same promise they also made at least once a week. Their little ‘I’m not going anywhere’ was something normal. It was a reminder. It was their promise to each other. It was one of the things that kept them going on the worst days.

“I know” Daniel nodded, kissing her one last time her neck as he moved to his previous place, finally looking at her face. “I just wish you could come with me”

“I don’t want you to go but it’s work, love. It's your job”

“I know that too, J, but I miss you. And it’s selfish but I want you around. I need you around, princess” he confessed, moving his right hand out of her waist to look for her hand.

“I miss you too, you hear me? I miss you every single day that you’re not around. It sucks when we’re not together” she murmured, getting close to giving him a long, sweet, loving kiss. But even when their kiss was over, Jas didn’t move. She stayed right there in her place with their lips touching. “I love you so fucking much that it kills me when you’re away. I spend the days counting the minutes till I can see your handsome face again, y’know? That’s how crazy I am for you”

“Then come with me, baby. And not just the next two races, come with me the rest of the year, baby”. They talked about it too. They talked about Jas joining him, but somehow, they ended up agreeing on talking about it at some point in the future. The excuse was them wanting to go slow and how she was supposed to be helping in Aoife’s flower shop until Jas figure out what she wanted to do next, but truth was, she was nothing but scared. She was so in love with Daniel that it was terrifying and the fact that Daniel was in love with her was also scary. So far that one was the most wonderful relationship she ever had so she was terrified of ruining it by going with him to every single race. The idea of ruining it in any way just petrified her, but she knew she couldn’t keep postponing their happiness out of fear. She couldn’t do it when Daniel needed her. The emotional rollercoaster of leaving Redbull was coming, and Daniel needed his people around him, which included Jas in one of the first positions. She couldn’t postpone it when she needed him too. “I know what you think and you’re not gonna be a burden, J. You could never be one”

That was also one of the things that were stopping Jas. Joining Daniel mean leaving her job -even if it was with her mom and if it was temporary-, and it also mean depending on him until she could find a job that would allow her to travel. She knew money wasn’t a problem, Daniel was the one paying for her plane tickets, and he would give her a look if she would ever try paying for anything, but she didn’t want to be that kind of girl. She didn’t want people to think she was there for the money, she didn’t want his family and friends to think she was there for it. She didn’t even touch the extension of his card he gave her weeks ago, too scared to give that step. She didn’t want to be a burden in his life when he had already too many things on his mind, so she just gave excuses, but clearly, that was the end of it.

“Danny, I-“ she tried to interrupt, but he cut her with another kiss before he kept talking.

“We can talk about that later, but it’s not important” he insisted, bringing their joined hands together to his lips to kiss her knuckles. “I need you by my side, baby. This year’s been fucking crazy and I don’t think I’m ready to live the rest of it without you. And I know I’m asking for a lot, but can you at least think about it?”

Everyone told her to go slow. Everyone told her to take a deep breath and a firm step on her decision when it came to her relationship with Daniel. It wasn’t that her family or friends didn’t like Daniel, in fact, they adore him, but they also knew Jas. They could see how everything was going fast and the last thing anyone wanted was to see her getting hurt. Not that they thought Daniel would do something to hurt her, but the nature of their relationship was complicated. Distance was hard, his job was complicated and what came with it was even more tricky, so the advice everyone would give her was to think about her choices and not jump into it. That would be the advice she would give to her friend or her sister, but everything was out of the window when it came to Daniel. In the heart vs heart fight, her heart would always win and this time it wasn’t different. This time she could even hear her family and friends asking what the hell was she doing, saying how she was insane, and even checking twice if she was sure about her choice. She could hear her mom and dad talking and telling her to not put her life aside for him, but the second she saw Daniel’s eyes everything else disappeared.

There was nothing else besides his big brown eyes looking at her, shining full of love. There was nothing like their joined hands against his chest and how she could feel his heart beating. There was nothing as the expectation written all over his face as he waited for her answer. But beyond all, there was nothing like the way he made her feel. There was nothing as the love, happiness, and safety she felt by his side, so even if everything could go terribly wrong, she decided to take a leap of faith, hoping everything would turn out just fine.

“Alright, I’m coming. But you paying everything’s temporary, you hear me? I don’t want you to-“. But before Jas could even finish what she was saying, she got interrupted again by Daniel’s lips against her. But this time it wasn’t just him kissing her mouth, this time it was kissing all around her face and neck, all while he whispered ‘Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!’ again and again and again. “You’re welcome, but I’m serious, Dan!”

“Money is something that comes with the job and since I earned it I can spend it on whatever I want, alright? That includes bringing my girl with me. There’s no better what to spend it” he smiled, giving Jas his best smile, which normally would convince her of anything on a normal day.

And maybe another day he could convince her, but that night she wasn’t giving up, so she pointed to him with one finger as she talked firmly. “Temporary, okay?”

“Whatever makes you happy, babe” he nodded, kissing her fingertip as he kept smiling.

If he was happy then it was worth the pain.

“That’s what I like to hear. Now as a payback, you can start ordering food and taking your clothes off” she teased, but like every time, for Daniel her wishes were his command.

And if Daniel was happy, Jas was happy too, so it was more than worth the pain.    

---

Taglist

@amsofftrack​ @d0ntjudgemy50shades​ @a-distantdreamer​ @honeybadgercomeback​

[firefly--bright]

belonging.

jean kirstein x gender neutral! reader (they/them pronouns used)

academic frenemies to lovers, modern au

how was he so good at everything? how did he manage all of it? how did he make you feel like this? how did he see you?

warnings : strained parental relationships, highschool angst, academic pressure, mild eren yeager slander.

a/n : holy shit this turned out longer than i intended it to. making a part two but it might take a while cause i have exams (how perfect) coming up soon :'). anyway, i hope you like this one, kinda self projected alot jdkwjfls im okay i was listening to mitski and hozier while writing this can u tell

tagging : @chuusposts , @a10vely-yutazen (sorry for the late tag!)

• main masterlist is pinned! • taglist is open! • fic playlist •

“the test wasn’t that hard, you know?” you say, completely aware that you were being petty, but god it felt good to be better than him at something.

“I never said it was hard,” he mutters under his breath.

“you submitted it late.” You reply snarkily, seeing his ears heat up in embarrassment.

“whatever, we’ll see how the grades are. Don’t you have anyone else to annoy?” he asks, and you know you’ve won by the way he says ‘whatever’ with the roll of his eyes.

The way he always did when he didn’t have a point to make.

You smiled slightly, pettily, but satisfied. You knew you did well.

You walked to your next lecture after collecting your books, yawning in the process. God, you needed some well deserved sleep. Maybe even watch a movie or two consecutively. But you couldn’t. you felt like you had a target on your back if you took even the slightest bit of a break, or had even the slightest bit of a social life. It didn’t make sense how Jean had both, all from what it looked like, and was still doing good in school. Good enough to compete with you, that was.

Hey, atleast you were doing better than last year.

You took a seat near the window, not paying attention to the way Jean was looking at you while entering the classroom.

It baffled you. how was he able to manage having it all? popularity, no matter how much of a social construct it was, people who loved him, and good looks? you couldn’t even deny it. He had almost everyone in Shingeki High wrapped around one of his knobby fingers that lent you a pencil last year. You didn’t blame them, he was the reason the school won almost every year, the reason everyone who lost hope during the game found their strength again to play. He was the one who persuaded Marco Bodt to rejoin the team. Marco Bodt, too, was like him, just less in the spotlight. He didn’t like the spotlight, you realised.

You didn’t blame him. it wasn’t like you didn’t want attention, but it seemed like the moment you had it, you got anxious, palms sweaty, breath heavy, the whole nine yards.

You didn’t notice Jean slipping his backpack next to your seat until your teacher started teaching the new topic.

You did notice, however, how he kept glancing at you. was there something on your face?

You rubbed your nose, then your cheeks. You adjusted your hair, too, just in case. You didn’t think there was anything wrong with your appearance. Maybe Kirstein had a staring problem. He used to stare at Mikasa a lot, too, before she got hitched with Yeager. A true tragedy in Shingeki High.

You tried to pay attention to whatever Mr. Smith was teaching, but considering the fact that you got almost no sleep last night studying for the test, and the fact that Jean was now shamelessly staring at either you or something out the window, you couldn’t.

You could catch up though. You’d already read the chapter he was currently prefacing.

“alright, class, I know you will be dreading this, but I will be giving everyone a group project,” Mr. Smith’s voice boomed, as the class erupted in low chatter. Everyone turned to the people they knew, but your face remained motionless.

You wanted this to be over with. You wanted, no, needed a fucking break.

Bet your brother didn’t need a fucking break, your mind whispers.

“I will be assigning everyone their partners.” Mr. Smith spoke up. everyone groaned, as jean’s head turned towards you again.

You joined the collective groan, as you turned to the boy sitting next to you. “why the fuck do you keep staring at me, kirstein?” you ask in a harsh whisper.

Jean shrugs, “you seem tired.”

What?

He noticed?

More importantly, he cared?

You tried not to show how flustered it made you feel. Big deal, he did the bare minimum. Besides, it was obvious you were tired, it wasn’t like you were trying to actively hide it. At least, you weren’t anymore.

“well, I am. a little. I just need sleep.” You mutter, and you know he heard it, but he continues to look at you with… pity? pride?

no. resolve.

His brows furrowed, his jaw locked, his hands resting on the table. you had seen that look before, while he was taking tests. The same face he made while he was at practice and you were under a tree, drawing the scenery before you.

You shivered slightly. Because of the wind form the window. Yeah, the wind.

Jean turns his head to the board again, as mr. smith names pairs of students to do the project together. You didn’t know what jean was going to do, but you knew he would do it. Jean Kirstein, a man of his word.

“yeah. You need sleep, it shows.”

Ah, yes. Jean Kirstein, an honest man.

You rolled your eyes.

“jean kirstein and (y/f/n).” you heard, snapping you out of whatever daze you were in.

Fucking amazing.

Jean turns to you again, and you can almost hear the smirk in his voice as you will yourself to not look at his pretty face. “goodie. Can't wait to do everything by myself.”

The bell rings, and you pack up whatever you had laying around.

“be my fucking guest.” You say to him as you walk away.

He, of course, follows. “what, you want me to take credit for it? Would that look good on your report, (l/n)?”

"my report would still better than yours after it, so.” You snap back. You really were not in the mood for this. “when do you want to meet up for the project?” you ask, “will after school today work for you?”

You hated to admit it, but this was probably the only “break” you’d get. Your parents only ever let you go out if it was for studying, and even that was rare, since they claimed they didn’t trust anyone in your school enough to let you go off with them.

But jean, however, had seen your parents. He had managed to charm them, even, at your middle school’s science fair, with his big words and sources and incredible topic. If you told your parents you were with the boy that got second place in the competition, they would maybe allow you to take some time in the café, away from them.

jean winced, “cant do today, sweetheart. Got practice. Tomorrow, though? Does that work for you?” he asks. You weren’t sure if he was trying to get you flustered or mad because of the nickname, but nevertheless, you were both.

“yeah, im free tomorrow. Have fun at practice. Don’t trip and fall on those untied shoelaces.” You say, glancing at his feet, speed walking away before he could reply.

You turned around only a bit, seeing him check his shoes, marco bodt standing behind him and looking at him confused.

You turned ahead and allowed a small smirk.

--

You tried your best to not focus on your mother’s words, you really did. But by god it was harder to do that by the second.

“you know, when I was small, younger than you, people would see my art and want to copy it,” she boasted, holding your sketchbook. “I was really good.”

“well I guess I inherited it from you then, huh?” you ask, deciding to humour her, the edge in your voice was sharp enough to cut paper.

“you still have a long way to go.” She says.

She gets up from her place on your bed, leaving a dip in your mattress. “anyway, what fruit should I cut up for you? and don't ask for watermelon, the season for that has passed.”

“im not hungry. I had coffee.” You say, turning back to your homework as you hear her say something about how coffee will shorten your life span while walking away.

You glanced out the window and sighed. The clouds were pretty grey today, and you wondered if it was going to rain. You wondered if you should go out for a run if the gloomy weather subsided. Maybe if your brother was up for it, you could take his car and go to the pizza place a block away late at night.

The pizza was pretty crappy, but it was the only time your brother and you ever held a conversation. Whether it was about your school, his college, some show you were watching, anything.

You were glad you both put your differences aside after you turned 14. He was the only one who ever made you feel seen with parents who made you feel like you didn’t exist for majority of your childhood.

It was nice. You hoped he wasn’t in one of his crappy moods tonight.

A notification rang from your phone. Assuming it was just a spam number, you went back to writing the essay you had to write for English, legs shaking under your table.

Another notification.

You ignored it once again.

Your phone vibrated twice, indicating that you were getting a call this time.

Finally snapping out of your focus, you turned to your phone to see the words ‘jean kirstein physics’ calling you.

Oh, yeah. You forgot you had his number since the last time you were paired up with him.

You picked up, rolling your chair far enough for you to lean back and stretch your legs.

“hello?” you spoke into your speaker.

“hey, practice got cancelled ‘cause it looks like it’ll rain. Do you wanna hang out?” he asks, and you can hear soft music playing in the background.

You shrug . “yeah, sure. Also, we wont be ‘hanging out’, Kirstein, we need to work.”

You can hear his smirk again. he never tries hiding it, atleast not when he’s speaking to you with that cocky tone. “whatever you say, sweetheart. Come on, get ready. im out your door.”

Your eyes widen as you roll towards your window, seeing his car infront of your room. “how the fuck?”

You can see him wave through the window of his car. He’s leaning forward slightly, his hand resting on the steering wheel as he waves with its, his phone in the other hand. He’s smiling.

“I know your address from last time, babe. Come on, I don’t have all day.”

You roll your eyes as you flip him off through your window. “ill be down in ten. Oh, say hi to my mom before you pick me up. she’ll think im using you as an excuse.”

“oh? You’ve used me as an excuse?”

“no, dumbass, I don’t need to. She’ll think I am, though. Also I think she likes you. or, she tolerates you more than Ash, anyway. Something about their hair makes her bitchy.” You check your door to make sure its closed.

You hear him laugh. A swarm of butterflies make their home in your belly. You slip a small smile of your own. “okay, then. I’ll say hi. be downstairs quick, though.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever.”

True to his word, jean kirstein does knock on the door to let her know he’s the one picking you up. your mom doesn’t complain as you slip your shoes on, which you assume is a good thing.

You save him just in time, though, as your mom smothers him with questions youre sure he hasn’t thought about yet. His face and shoulders relax when you tell him you should leave.

“bye, ma. Be back by 9.” You say.

“8 o clock! No more!” you hear her shout as you close the door.

“well that went better than I thought it would.” You tell jean, who has a hand on his heart, eyes still wide.

His neck snaps towards you, and you try not to laugh at his expression. He continues to walk towards his car as you trail behind him.

“well? That’s well for you? jeez, I felt like I’d have a heart attack with all the questions,” he exclaims. You put a hand on his shoulder, feeling him relax under your slight touch.

“you’ll live.”

He opens your passenger door for you to slip in. you thank him quietly, letting yourself get comfortable in his car. His cologne was even more present in his car, and a poloroid of him and his friends hung from a string from his rearview mirror. The flash was bright, and you recognized most of them. Jean had his arms around sasha braus and connie springer, as armin alert squatted infront of them, sporting a bright smile of his own. Behind the trio was marco bodt, smiling, ofcourse. You doubted you had ever seen him not smiling and you wondered how he didn’t get tired. mikasa was next to armin, squatting and laughing at eren yeager, who tried to squat but was falling down as the picture was being taken. On armin’s left was annie leonheart, with her hands in her hoodie pockets, a slight smile playing on her lips. rare of her to do, but not unusual when she was with armin.

You hadn’t talked to armin well in about a year. The last time you had talked to him was the winter formal as a sophmore, where you both agreed you’d be better of as friends anyway.

He didn't reply to your texts much after that.

Jean slipped into his seat, buckling himself in.

He hands you his phone. Taking it, you look at him questioningly. He cracks his neck, running a hand through his hair as he speaks, “play whatever music you’d like.”

Surprised he’d trust you with the greatest honour of letting you pick music, you played a song you knew he’d like, hoping he hadn’t listened to it already. The music flowed through the car as did the cool air from the ac.

“where are we heading?” you ask as jean starts driving. His left hand, the one he has doodles on, grips the steering wheel while he drives, as his right one rests on the gear, his fingers thrumming against it to the beat of the song.

“do you remember that café from last time? There.”

You take a moment to sit in stunned silence. Jean didn’t seem to realise that you were basking in a new feeling.

He remembered?

It wasn’t a surprise that you remembered, considering that their coffees were one of the most expensive yet the best tasting coffees you had ever had. You remembered him paying for you. maybe that’s why he remembered? there was nothing memorable about the last time you got paired up with him, if you thought about it. You genuinely thought he had forgotten about the place.

But as it turned out, he did not forget.

“oh. The one with the expen-“

“expensive coffee you really liked? Yeah. Honestly, theyre more of milkshakes than coffee, but to each to their own, I guess.” He says, glancing at you before taking a turn.

“of course you wouldn’t appreciate the good coffee,” you say, crossing your arms in front of your chest, “which ones do you like, anyway? Black coffee to be pretentious and feel grown up?"

“hey, black coffee is good!” he exclaims.

“predictable,” you mutter under your breath, knowing he had heard you anyway.

He shakes his head, gaze still locked on the road. “I don’t really like their coffee. I can stand their cheesecake though. And hey, if anyone’s pretentious here, its you. youre the one who likes their coffees” he says, arguing childishly. In his defence, you were technically enabling it.

A smile plays on your lips, “its not like go there all the time! Only for a treat.”

“a treat? So, like, everyday?”

“haven’t been there since three months, actually. And the last time I did go, like a couple weeks ago, they were closed.” You defended yourself.

You saw jean’s lips quirk up as he shook his head. “today is a treat then? With me?”

“don’t flatter yourself.”

“admit it, sweetheart. You think im a treat.”

“I do not. Youre the one who insists on paying for my drink. You don’t have to put on the gentleman act for someone who is going to accomplish much more than you.” you say, not really meaning your words. He knew, of course, he knew what you meant. He side eyes you and the previous butterflies seemed to have multiplied.

“im not acting like a gentleman. If you want the whole package then ask me out for dinner first, then we’ll see. And fine, if you wanna pay so bad-“

“I never said that-“

“then you can. Be my guest, waste your money.”

Your bickering went back and forth, and you realised how much you credited jean for his conversation skills. If this was ash, or even your brother, they’d be sick of your constant petty jabs, but jean wasn’t.

Another thing about jean kirstein that you found yourself mentally noting : he pushed you to be… better? You didn’t know if the bickering counted as being better, but academically speaking, he was the top of the list when it came to you pushing yourself to be the best you could be.

The one time you felt seen was when you were with him. Ash would always talk over you, and you liked that about them, you really did. but was it so bad for you to want to be heard? Just for a bit? Even if it was only for a while, even if it was only about studying, you liked jean to be the one you were competing with.

And as much as you hated to admit it, you also liked being partnered up with him. it was like a superpower you had discovered while being paired up with him the last time. You realised how much you could accomplish when you were with him. like he was your driving force, in a way.

The last time you had been paired up with him, he had introduced you to almost everyone in his friend group. You didn’t get particularly close to any of them, but you were glad to be a part of their little group anyway. Ash, connie’s… crush? Friend with benefit? They hadn’t put a label on it, but you could tell that Ash was glad you were coming out of your shell as well.

That was until winter formal, before armin said you two should be friends after being the one who asked you to go with him in the first place. you weren’t mad at him, per say. You knew who he was, and what he was was a good friend. you didn’t expect him to officially ask you out, anyway, so it was all water under the bridge.

After he started to distance himself from you, you did the same for him. he needed his space, and you respected that. you didn't know how that translated to you distancing yourself from the rest of the group, but somehow, you did. The only person you sort of kept in touch with after that was jean, and even that was only rarely. You and him never went out of each other’s ways to make plans, hangout, or even text after that. Yet, whenever you talked to him, you felt like you were on cloud nine.

Which was dangerous. Jean had… a reputation. He was pretty, it was obvious. He was smart, and he was good at soccer, and practically everything else anyone could ever be perfect in. after mikasa and eren finally started dating, he started dating, too. some people here and there, you heard Ash tell you about his new partner almost every two months. He wasn’t a heartbreaker, though. He was always respectful about his relationships, but it still felt forced. Like people were only dating him because they saw him being perfect all the time. like people saw himself as how they wanted to and not who he really was.

You remembered him telling you about it once, before the winter formal. He told you about how he felt the need to be perfect because if he wasn’t, people wouldn’t like him. more importantly, he felt like people should like him, because for the longest time people hadn’t . the moment he started to achieve things was the moment he was noticed, if not loved. the moment he started showing himself, even if wasn't the version he wanted, he was praised. He didn’t want to lose that.

You remembered hugging him after that. He hadn’t cried, but his eyes were glistening as you sat on someone’s bed at someone’s party. You patted his back, rubbing circles there, as he kept his hand on your thigh.

You wondered if you were the reason your friendship with him changed. You wondered if your brother moving away for MIT was the reason you started not caring about how people viewed you and more about how your grades would look.

You wondered if jean would… like you if you had persisted and stuck with him when he started to distance himself.

“y/n?” jean calls out to you, as you snap out of your thoughts drowning you.

“hm?”

“we’re here, dumbass. We’ve been here since two minutes. Where’s your mind?” he asks, flicking your forehead. He does it gently though, to not hurt you.

You shake your head. “nowhere important.” You unbuckle your seatbelt, stepping out of the car, as jean follows behind.

--

Jean ended up paying for your drink before you could stop him.

You didn’t complain this time, mainly because you were too focused on your textbook and the way jean’s shoulder was brushing yours.

It irritated you, of course. Stupid jean’s stupid warmth, stupid perfume, stupid stubble. He’d grown so much since sophmore year, you almost didn’t recognize him. he grew out the aforementioned stubble a little, only a little, and you could almost tell that he spent the entire summer growing it out. His previously short and choppy hair grew out floppy and sometimes fluffy hair that, in your and everyone else's opinions, suited him. you had heard him talking to Marco about getting a mullet in the future. as someone with common sense and eyes, you didn't deny how good he looked, with or without the mullet.

And as someone with common sense, you also didn’t tell him just how pretty he was. You were sure he knew already, with his smug face and almost everyone lining up for a night with him. it didn’t help that he had a good personality, too. it would’ve been so much easier to act like you hated him if he was actually a terrible person.

But no, he was a good person, and you were reminded of that fact when jean passed you a tissue after you devoured your milkshake-esque coffee, and offering you a piece of his cheesecake.

After a good three hours of studying the topic and coming up with things to put in your project, jean stretches his arms up, letting out a yawn in the process. His shirt rode up a bit, as you averted your gaze and focused on packing up your books and pens.

It was almost 8 pm, and you were surprised your parents hadn’t called you home yet. Did they really trust jean that much? Or was the text you sent to your brother enough to lay them off for a while?

You stood up letting out a breath, trying to even out your breathing. Maybe they did trust jean to let you stay so late. They wouldn’t be mad at you for studying with someone, right? And if they asked, you could show them the notes. Nothing to be stressed about. Then why was your heart beating so hard?

Jean placed a hand on your shoulder. “let me take that,” he says, pulling the bag from your arms.

You were too tired to complain, as you followed him to his car like a lost puppy.

The ride home was also peaceful. No bickering, no discussions, no questions. You guessed jean was tired, too. the song you picked out for him played softly as you reached home.

You unbuckled your seatbelt, collecting your bag and phone. Before you could push the door open, however, jean grabbed your wrist, making your head turn towards him.

The headlights of his car reflected on the inside, making his brown eyes glow a slight yellow from the side. his noes and eyelashes created beautiful shadows on his face. “are you sure youre okay?” he asks in a low voice, almost whispering. “you know that im…. im here for you, right? We’re friends.” He says.

Your heat beats faster. You swallow, feeling a lump forming in your throat. He said you were friends. Like the casual type that you’d call up at random times to tell them about your day, like the ones that went to grab coffee together, the ones that invited eachother to parties and introduced all of your other friends to.

Its not like Ash wasn’t your friend. right? Just because they were hanging out with connie a bit more didn’t mean they were completely ditching you right?

God, were his words really enough to make you feel seen?

You shrugged. “of course I’m okay.” Leaving it at that. You didn’t tell him about how much your mother’s words from earlier had hurt you, or how much you wanted to feel included in something. It was embarrassing. And coming from jean? Even more so. How had he noticed? Didn’t he stop talking to you after the formal? Wasn’t he the one who only talked to your for your notes?

Wasn’t he also the one to lend you a pencil a good four months after said formal? Wasn’t he also the one who asked how your test went, starting a conversation between you two after almost five months of almost nothing except waves from across the hallway?

Again, why was this affecting you more than it should have?

He was looking at you, concerned and not convinced. “I just need some sleep.” You clarified, hoping that will make whatever was going on in his mind stop.

His hand left your wrist and you immediately missed the warmth he provided. He sighed, blinking. “well….if you ever need anything, im only a text away, alright?”

He smiles. And not in the typical, smug, I-want-to-look-good smile, but the soft, gentle smile. The corner of his eyes crinkled, his eyebrows and shoulders relaxed. He looked like him again, like the night he thanked you for holding him after his rant at the party, like the day you and him went out for coffee without telling your parents, like the day he invited you to a party and introduced you to all his other friends, like the day he had called you to tell you about his surprisingly good day.

You gave him the same smile you returned to him all the previous times.

“I know.” You whisper.

You didn’t want to leave. You desperately wanted nothing more than to stay here, basking in his cologne and smile and warmth for the rest of your days. You could rot here and flowers could bloom from your skeleton and still be content.

But by the time you could do any of that, you had already gotten up from your seat, turning to shut the door.

Jean was looking at you then, when you crouched down, meeting his eyes again. he was looking at you the same way he was when you drank that milkshake coffee in under two minutes. “im here for you too, jean. Don’t forget that.” You say, smiling. You turn and close the door before he can answer.

Before entering your house, however, you turn around.

He’s looking at you, smile still present, one hand stretched on the steering wheel as the other waved at you.

you waved back.

---

it was almost 1 am when you got the notification.

Jeankirstenoutoften sent you their story.

Stretching your legs from under your desk, you slump onto your bed, phone in hand. When you open the message, you see a story with a picture of you drinking the coffee, and another picture of you leaning down and writing in your notebook, with an emoji of a daisy on the side of the story along with your username tagged next to it.

The song was the same youd made him listen to in the car, which surprised you, to say the least. You didn’t know he would pay attention to your choice of songs, or even care, and the fact that he remembered to add that made yet another swarm of butterflies fill up in your belly.

You liked the story, adding it to your own with a green heart emoji, knowing jean’s favourite colour like the back of your hand.

Jean instantly messaged you after that.

Jean k.:

Why are you awake??

Why r YOU awaje, kirstein

Jean k.:

Cuz I wasn’t the one complaining about being tired, sweet heart

Also you have to get up at what

7? Tomorrow?

Your brows furrowed.

How fo uou know that?

Okay yes I a m tred but that doesn’t mean

that

I’ll actally skeep

Sleepig is fir looserd

Jean k.:

Jesus

Maybe you should sleep

The amount of typos youre making

It givbed charafter

Mayve you shuiuld look iy up

He was right. You were tired and sleepy, but you werent about to prove him right. He didn’t know you as much as he thought he did.

Jean k.:

Are you just trying to prove a point?

Well, shit.

Dint u habe practive tonroow?

Tonroow.

Yes I do

That’s besides the point

HYPOCRUSY

Ojg maybr we shoukd nap un ur car

Im not bringing my car tomorrow sweetheart

If you wanna sleep with me that bad

just ask

I dubt wabt to skeep with yu

I wabt to NAP wuth u.

they r complwtely diffebrbet

"diffebrbet" wasn't even close to different

Y/n

Please sleep

NI

Do u tgink beyobce skept

…

Beyonce?

Are you asking me if beyonce slept??

Youre proving my point you need to sleep

Wgats ur fac fkower

Why does that matter rn?????

Ander tge dan qyestion

Fine

Tulips.

Is this twenty questions?

Is it my turn omg

Whats ur fav time to sleep?

…

Sweetheart?

y/n?

replied to themself

Whats ur fav time to sleep?

question answered

its now.

Sleep well, y/n :)

See u 'tonroow'.

Jean smiled. He quickly turned off his phone, putting it to charge after making sure he turned his alarm on for tomorrow.

Tonroow.

Maybe he shouldve stopping smiling so wide only because of a couple stupid messages from you, but he couldn’t.

Didn’t you get the hint? Didn’t you know that he only called you sweetheart? That he would never treat everyone else like how he treated you?

Maybe he was putting you on a pedastal, but in his eyes, its where you belonged. On a pedastal, with your sparkling eyes and pretty smile and sarcastic remarks. Maybe it was the way the chapstick you wore accentuated the smike, maybe it was your signatue earrings that moved slightly evertime you nodded that added to your.... yourself.

He wished he hadnt stopped talking to you. he knew what was happening to him, he knew what he was feeling and he was scared. So, like the idiot he was, he decided to push his affections elsewhere. Mikasa Ackerman never looked at him. not in the way he wanted her to, atleast. Mikasa Ackerman was an unattainable goddess, only having eyes for one person, who seemed to be reciprocating her feelings, even if he was below her level. Then again, so would Jean be if she ever were to glance his way. But he didn’t stop his “crush” from foring on her. It was better than it forming on you, someone also unattainable, but in a completely different way. You and him had been…acquiantances if not frienemies since what felt like forever. He couldn’t risk ruining that.

Even if he went ahead and ruined it anyway. He started ignoring you, slowly distancing himself after the formal, never once asking if you were okay after that. Never once asking what you were up to. Soon enough, you grew apart to the time inmiddle school, where the only words spoken between the two of you were insincere insults along with continous bickering, surface level jabs as if you didn’t see him almost break down in the room while a party raged on downstairs. As if you werent his close friend, as if you werent the only one who really saw him at one point.

He missed you. painfully so. He knew why he did it in the first place. he regretted everything about it, but he also didn’t do anything to stop it. He was…okay, right? Without you? life was better, he had gotten closer to marco, been accepted by this big group of friends who he knew cared deeply for him.

But he missed you. his group of friends werent you. they didn’t have the warmth you so openly offered to him without hesitation. They were amazing, really, but they didn’t hold him the way you did. they didn’t make his skin shiver the way you did, they didn’t make his car feel like the safest haven on earth with music playing softly, they didn’t smile like you did, they didn’t…. they werent you.

So, he did what he should've done in the first place. he had no intention of starting the project today, with the sumbission date being more than enough for him to cram in a week and still get a good grade on it.

But he wanted to see you. the real you, not the one you kept hidden in school. The person he saw sitting by the window, knees shaking, dark circles prominent under your eyes. He knew you knew he was staring, but he didn’t stop. You were sitting right next to him and yet you seemed so far.

Guilt swallowed him up whole along with regret. he was going to make an effort. He promised himself right then and there that he’d grow closer to you again, regardless of the fact that his too-strong feelings for you never really faded away, regardless of how scary said feelings were, he was going to try.

His forearm relaxed on his forehead as he closed his eyes.

And you looked so pretty today, the glow of his headlights illuminating the side of your face as you crouched to his eye level to tell him that you cared, that you’d listen to him if he ever needed it and oh, he needed it. He needed you. even if all the two of you did today was study and get work done, it was one of the most….full day he had. He felt full, content, and even if the table stretched in silence for most of the time, he felt like he wasn’t hidden.

He fell asleep feeling happier than he had since when he was crushing on mikasa.

--

Maybe he shouldve slept sooner. His eyes felt like they were on fire, the burn only calming when he closed them by blinking.

Connie passed him a cold red bull, noticing his tired state. Jean thanked him silently as he chugged half of it in one go, ignoring the stin that came with the cool liquid.

“did you not sleep like….at all last night?” eren asks, wiping the sweat off of his forehead. his front bangs stick to his forehead despite the cool weather. Coach ackerman had gone easy on the training today, and that was saying a lot. jean still felt like his bones were breaking.

“I did sleep. Got a late night that’s all.” Jean says. Despite eren and jean’s obvious dislike for eachother, they still considered the other a friend. they could be civil sometimes, when they felt like it. Which was rarely, but it still counted.

Pulling out his phone, he checks his phone.

3 unread messages from (y/n) <3

FUCK I FELL ASLEEP

This proves nothing.

Im still winning.

Jean smiles, opening your texts.

Uh huh. Keep that imagination going.

Is debate club over yet? I saw a couple of

the students hanging around the field.

Yeah I just finished

Got done early today for some reason

Same

Wanna come here so we can walk together?

My mom made omletes

I think she packed an extra one if youre hungry

Oh

Ur mom’s omletes do sound rlly good rn

Only if theres extra tho

Im pretty sure there is

she always packs more than I need

Although that was true, jean had specifically asked er to pack one more today, one for him, one extra, and one for you.

I'll be down in two :)

Drink water, kirstein, not just redbull

Jean smiles slightly, chugging the rest of his red bull.

“whats gotten you so smiley?” reiner asked as he ruffled his hair.

“is it (y/n)?” marco follows up with his own question, and jean feels like digging a hole and burrying himself in it right then and there.

“oh, (y/n)? I havent seen them around since sophmore year.” Eren says.

Jean shrugs while uncapping his water bottle. “yes, its (y/n). theyre coming down here right now.”

reiners brows furrowed. “you guys are talking again?”

jean hated the way he said it. He hated that everyone he knew also knew about how close you and him used to be at one point, however brief.

Yet, jean maintains his uncaring exterior, and shrugs. “never really stopped talking,” he lies.

Marco shoots him a knowing look as jean drinks his water, pretending to not notice it.

“talking about your grades doesn't count, horseface.” Eren says, getting up before jean could react.

He sees mikasa waiting for eren near the field, the latter greeting her by grabbing her hand and kissing her knuckles. Jean didn’t feel the jealousy he wouldve felt three months ago, he simply observed without the familiar feeling of subtle rage and sadness crawling up his heart.

One by one, everyone left to do god knows what, until only him and marco were left. They were sitting on the grass, jean’s body resting on his eblows with marco copying his stance.

“do you still like them?” marco blurts out.

If it was anyone else, jean would've denied any feelings towards you. that was the only thing he was probably jealous of armin for; the fact that the blonde was a far more convincing liar then jeabever could be.

Jean sighed, glancing at his phone, screen now blackened. “I think so. I don’t think my feelings ever….went away if that makes sense. Like, I hoped they would go away but they didn’t and now I just feel…”

“like a dick?” marco finishes with a small smirk.

Marco bodt was known in the school for his good looks and even better personality. He was kind, but not in the pushover way. he knew all the right things to say to someone under any circumstance. Jean was pretty sure that the only person who saw him crumble once was jean himself, when he reassured marco that hed do well in the match despite his then recent injuries.

But what everyone didn’t see was how…smug marco could be. He could be witty when he wanted, and his teasing would almost combat the one jean faced by you, too. it was in the good way, of course, and jean was glad marco felt comfortable enough with him to be open with him. jean would be caught dead voicing his affections, though, just like he would be if he ever gathered the courage to tell you about how he’d been pining you since before you and armin ever met.

Jean purses his lips, trying not to show his friend that he was right. Jean was sure he knew, though. Marco, somehow, like you, always knew. “yeah. Like a dick.”

“well, its good youre trying to patch things up with them now. Better late then never, yeah?” marco says as he gets up, wiping off the dirt on his hands. “see you in class. Have fun with y/n” marco winks, and jean catches the innuendo.

“its not like that!” jean shouts behind him, watching his back shake with laughs. Jean hopes his blush isnt too prominent for you to notice when you greet him.

Which you do, after another minute of him waiting on the grass.

“did you drink water? Your face is red.” You say, sitting down next to him, slipping your bag fro your shoulders.

“and how is water supposed to help with a red face?”

You shrug, tucking a strand of hair behind you ear. “water solves 99% of your problems.”

“will it make you less annoying?”

“it wont, but it’ll probably help you dance, maybe.”

Jean blushes even more. “oh my god, that was a year ago.”

You snicker. “but youre still terrible at it. Im pretty sure my toes are still bruised with the amount of times you stepped on them.”

“that’s not even possible, and also, you werent that good, either.”

“sure, jean-bo.”

“don’t call me that!” his blush was still on his face, now darkening furiously. You chuckle, which makes his heart skip a beat.

“lets just eat that damn omlete, yeah?”

--

[diluclover300]

Just One Week (5)

Gojo Satoru x Female Reader

CHAPTER INDEX:

I H8 U

My Kinda Fun

Balance

{S] Awake

Eggs and Rice

Wait, but I'm broke

Couple's Discount

CHAPTER 5: Eggs and Rice

also posted on my ao3 account: diluclover300

...

It's the crack of dawn, and Satoru hasn't been able to sleep ever since he's committed such a heinous, indecent act of jerking off on your beloved couch. 

The birds chirp and yap outside the windows of your kitchen and he's finally defeated. He won't try to fall asleep anymore, it's already set in stone that he can't, that he won't be able to. Even if his eyes roll out of their sockets. 

Anyway, he was able to clean up after himself last night, like any decent guest would, and he's even put the blanket up for washing. Great, he's washing away his guilt. 

With a slight stretch, and a large frown at his dirtied blindfold, Satoru shoves his sunglasses on instead. It's what he's decided on wearing from now on, because there's no way he's using a pair of sunglasses as a way to satisfy his sexual desires. 

Never again, he decides, swears to himself as he carefully roams down the halls of your cozy apartment. He will never jerk off to the thought of his beloved childhood friend again. It was in the heat of the moment, he was just horny and now he won't ever do it again. Never. 

Speaking of you, he peeks through the crack of your door, and of course, you're still sound asleep. It's five in the morning, so he plans on waking you up at six instead. It's his way of apologizing for, well, fantasizing about his wonderful, erm... friend– host. 

Right. You hate him so you're not exactly friends. He foolishly forgets that your friendship is currently one-sided, and it sort of hurts, however, he'll entertain your hatred if it makes you feel better about the life that you lived now. 

That nine-to-five office job, the rotting in your bed after work lifestyle. You say it brings you peace. Tranquility. 

Though, he wonders if it's true. If you actually love what you're doing, if you're happy about the choices you've made. Was that office job really doing such wonders for you? 

It looks as to him that you haven't slept in years with the way you curl up against your bed, clenching onto your blanket with all the strength you can muster. 

That glum expression on your face which seems to fall on your features quite often has vanished in your slumber.

Your eyelashes touch the bottom of your eyelids, and you take in soft breathes from your slightly parted lips, still dressed in the same, sweaty clothes from yesterday. 

Maybe he would've helped you change. If the idea itself wasn't so thought-provoking. He'll put it in decent terms. 

Besides that, the sight is a bit endearing. You act all put together, but really, you get like this too. Those light gray stains of sweat underneath your armpits, showing that you've worked way too hard yesterday. The frizz of your hair, how it covers your features and gets in the way of your steady breaths. Your swollen feet and bunched up toes, probably due to the fact that those black flats were probably awful to walk in with zero support whatsoever. 

Oh, and then there's also the food stains riddling on your shirt and lips. That was because he was trying to feed you an egg sandwich from those insanely cheap vending machines, but you kept acting like a slob. Next time, he'll make sure to buy a bib along with those bouquet of flowers if he decides to make a surprise visit ever again. It was a little embarrassing to watch. 

You let out a small sigh, interrupting his very long, unusually slow train of thought. 

He should get going now. There was no reason for him to be lounging around in your room. You'd hate it. 

Nonetheless, when he turns to step out of your room, you mumble in your sleep for the millionth time, and without fail, he falls for it as he freezes in his tracks. 

It's a tired groan, then you say, "Gojo, it hurts."

There you go again. He sighs. 

He'll let you wake up on your own accord. 

...

You feel like shit as the sun begins to blind you from the windows. 

Your lips open and then close, tasting your unwashed tongue, licking your dry lips as your sweaty skin dampens along your tight shirt. You're disgusting, stained the pillow besides you with dried up drool. 

When you roll around in bed, glancing to the clock next to you, your eyes widen. It's six thirty, you're about an hour late to your job.

An hour late. Something you've never done. 

Your hands scramble across your nightstand for your belongings before you get a whiff of your damp armpits. 

Shit. You're foul, in desperate need for a shower. 

Without much thought, you grab a pair of black slacks and another button up white shirt. Holding it to your nose, you decide it's clean enough before you rush into the bathroom, deciding to use the jacket wrapped around your waist as a blazer. 

...

You rush down the halls of your house, a backpack slung on one of your shoulders as you stuff your phone into your pocket. 

"Shit." You glance at your watch, over and over as if you're hallucinating. It is seven in the morning. Now you're an hour and a half late. 

I'm so screwed. 

You dash to the kitchen as your stomach caves in and growls, suddenly met with the smell of fresh rice and eggs.

You hear a bit of whistling, so you search for the source, and when it dawns on you, when you trace the source, it's–

White hair, black uniform, round sunglasses...

Hey. Was it just you, or do you so not remember inviting your arch nemesis over for breakfast? 

"Oh, you're up? Already?" You must be seeing things, because there was no way in hell you would actually invite Gojo Satoru over. There was no way you'd be in a six feet radius within him. Impossible. 

As your backpack falls onto the floor, you try to jog your memory. Retracing your memories from yesterday, you clearly remember getting your ass beaten on some rooftop. 

Oh, yeah. You remember now. This was your fault. If you hadn't lost that fight then he wouldn't be here right now. 

Your legs, which you haven't taken note of until now, are throbbing in sheer pain. 

"Good morning." He smiles, damn cheeky as he does with a sickening, sweet voice. You pinch yourself to make sure this isn't some kind of nightmare. "I made breakfast."

No, you have unfortunately remembered things correctly. 

If only you had won last night. Then you wouldn't have to watch as Gojo Satoru smiles at you with every fiber of his being, as if his presence doesn't make you feel sick to your stomach. 

"Morning." You grumble, the aches in your body more prominent when you recall those unflattering memories of last night. 

He's sporting one of your aprons, damn it, and he places a prim and proper plate onto your small, old dinner table before taking the cloth right off of him. 

"Eat up, we have so many things to do today, yeah?" He clatters two pairs of chopsticks onto the table before he sits down to eat. 

"I.. uh–"

It's a plate of rice with an omelette over it, like one of those videos you've seen on social media. Except it's got a smiley face of ketchup drawn on the top of it. 

You watch with a frown as Gojo takes a nice bite of egg and rice, lazily holding his chopsticks in the air. Soon enough, he stares right back at you, raising an eyebrow. 

"What're you wearing?" He swallows, cheek pressed against his hand as he studies your figure. 

It's the same kind of shirt from yesterday, although new, but you're wearing dress pants instead of a skirt. How professional, you look like a prim and proper employee. 

"I thought I was going to work, but then I remembered that you..." A long sigh, one of mental and physical exhaustion. "You were here."

Satoru kind of misses the skirt, though, and the way his jacket from yesterday was wrapped around it. Now you're holding it in-between your arms, cradling it like a baby. 

"Is that my jacket?" His own, rather special memories of last night waltz in, and he clears his throat. "It doesn't suit you." 

"As if, why would I have your jacket?" You scoff, looking down at the article of clothing, then the short-sleeved black shirt he's currently wearing. "That's ridiculous."

Okay, maybe he wasn't wearing just a shirt yesterday, but you sure as hell weren't holding his jacket right? 

Right?

"Hm." He pokes at his food, scraping another grain of rice off his plate. "Oh, I must be..."

He doesn't know why he's just letting you hold it. He feels bare without the thing, like a part of his soul has been ripped out of him. 

"I must be remembering things wrong.." A lie. That's his jacket, he's wrapped it around you right as you passed out. He's just letting you have it. 

"Okay." Thank God, it wasn't his. 

Without realizing it, you let out a deep, prolonged sigh of relief before folding up your make-shift blazer and hanging it onto the back of your designated chair. For a second, you almost thought that you were going to be late for work, but no, you vaguely remember calling your boss last night before Gojo did his ceremonial forehead flick. Only then did he let you regain consciousness, and that was only for the purpose of burdening you. 

Instead of working a nine-to-five, you were some kind of pretend-play, unpaid tour guide. Gojo's personal tour guide. What a complete and utter nightmare. It gives you goosebumps. 

You reluctantly sit down, convinced by the smell of the food, even though you're eyeing it like it's rat poison.

Grabbing your chopsticks, Satoru tries to fight off the tug of his lip when you stab into the center of the Omelette. Talk about violent. Then you stubbornly ate, shoving rice and eggs down your throat as if you were being forced to eat. It's a sight he hasn't seen in five years. Seeing you eat was weirdly euphoric. He guesses he'll have to grow used to that. You know, since he'll be eating at least twenty-one meals with you over the course of the week. He did the math. 

Fine. You don't want to say it out loud and you never will, but the man could cook. Rice and eggs at least. Gojo Satoru could do the bare minimum. It's a secret you'll take to the grave. 

Satoru blinks. He's sort of in awe. You eat well, sort of fast too. It doesn't even take another minute before you're patting your lips clean, plate as white as he first saw it in the cupboard. 

"So? Did you like–"

"How did you find my address?" Oh? Nice save, you think to yourself. You're able to avoid the question you desperately do not want to answer by interrupting with a question of your own. 

Gojo sighs, placing his chopsticks down on his plate. You don't beat around the bush, he realizes as he folds his legs underneath the table. And you won't let him hear what he wants to hear. You're cruel. 

"The Internet." He shrugs, pulling out his phone to further prove his point. There was nothing on the screen but your reflection. "I did my research."

You roll your eyes. Yeah, right, as if anyone could ever find your address on the Internet. 

"Okay. What about my workplace?"

It's question after question with you. You're one curious girl, he'll give you that. 

"Same thing. You have that LinkedIn page." He folds his arms, phone resting on the table. 

Fair. That was plausible. You were job hunting a lot back in the day. 

"Anything else you'd like to ask?" Gojo Satoru says as he gets up from the table, fetching yours and his plate. He can't believe he's just letting you push him around like this. He's the star of the show after all, your respected guest whether you liked it or not. "You seem awfully curious about what I've been up to." 

Ha. Curious? You were curious about Gojo Satoru? 

"You're just imagining it. I could care less." Your lips tug downward at the thought. 

"It's I couldn't care less, but..."

Gojo pauses as he grabs your plate, stopping to lean in your face and taunt.

"... I guess you really do mean what you're saying."

Your eyebrows furrow, an appalled look slapping onto your rather deadpan expression. 

"W...what does that mean?" 

No answer. You're left basking in your own humiliation as he walks off into the kitchen. He's got you good, and you absolutely despise being left speechless, mind scrambling for something to shoot back at him, like you're just now learning how to aim your gun.

Gojo whistles to himself as he turns on the water of your kitchen's faucet. It's a loud sound as it rains down on your own overdue pile of dishes from last week. 

The splashes and inconsistencies of the water's sound cause you to snap up from your seat, remembering that you so don't want him to see how disgustingly lazy you've been without anyone around to shame you for it. 

"Hey..." His eyes widen at the absolute eyesore, pausing to turn back at you. "Why is there–"

"Shut up, okay?" You huff out, almost bumping into him as you reached over him. 

"Okay. My lips are shut."

Huh? When did you get so close? He wonders as your shoulders brush against each other, the cloth of your arm grazing the warmth of his skin. It's been a while since he's felt this. A long while, he thinks as he looks down at you, the sunlight from the blinds shining onto the skin of your face, then your eyes and eyelashes. 

The breath he was about to take in stops, every second becoming slower than the last. 

Hm? What's this? What's this feeling? 

He can't bring himself to make a single sound. Why was he listening to you? 

What's wrong with him? You're just standing there, searching in the drawers besides him. You're not doing anything else, other than scrunching your eyebrows together and mumbling something to yourself. So why couldn't he just breathe? Why?

Satoru feels a bit unlike himself. 

"Move." You sigh, trying to swallow down the embarrassment as you force your silicone dishwashing gloves down your wrists. "I'll do it, they're mine–"

"Ah, really? Thanks." He backs up almost immediately, holding back a sigh of relief, but masking it with a smile. "You do that then, I'll, uh..."

"I'm gonna go wash up, yeah?"

Wait, is he going to use your shower? You haven't picked up your pile of clothes yet–

"Hey, wait, I..."

Your voice trails off as you watch him scurry off into the hallway, realizing that you've fallen for another one of his sneaky tricks. The man's done it on purpose, so that you're the one stuck doing your own dishes. 

You look at the mountain of plates and pots, the image already making your back and shoulders ache. Immediate dread follows. 

Damn it, you're acting like his servant already, and the day has barely started. 

...

[8-bitdyke]

You posted a small taste of butch obi wan. Wanna post a big post about butch obi wan? :))

yes !!!!!!!!!!!!!! finally have the time 2 make this post long awaited by all (u n me)

ill do some basics here I think! ask away if u wanna know anything specific :]

butch obi-wan very early realised she didn't want to be a girl, but took a few years to realise she didn't have to either

(keep reading and consensually experience my ramble!)

when Anakin meets her @ nine years old, our butch looks pretty similar to how obi-wan (boy) looked at that age but she has yknow tits etc etc (THOUGH she does bind her chest like uhh everyone else bc that's how I headcanon star wars bras TM it's a long story) so idk she looks boyish, Anakin thinks she's a boy, and qui-gon explains she's not!

going into her twenties and early thirties, obi-wan is no longer boyishly gangly she has muscles !!! she's buff and strong !!!!!! "the strongest master in the world ever!!!!!!!" - Anakin, like 11 years old

I'm a little torn on whether she keeps her hair short or not.... I think it used 2 b long and when it was, it was Always braided either tight in a crown braid or sth similar (she teaches Anakin to braid her own hair at some point, and Anakin took and still takes to the crown braids) anyways when it was long it was an honour to see it loose but now it's a mullet, or in the words of an Older Master at the temple (Jocasta nu) "Business in the front, party at the back"

Anyways in my silly lil universe butch obi-wan still comes from stewjon I think but I also think stewjon is having sort of a friend of Dorothy's situation going on so idk! maybe she is maybe she's not and it's an in-universe metaphor maybe it's both!

lastly have a lil snippet from my wip ab her relationship w the clones! (sorry ab the formatting..... tumblr is tumblrin.)

"The war has slithered her slimy hands through Obi-Wan’s hair and left grey stripes in her wake, but she carries them with poise, as handsome as ever. She goes everywhere with poise it seems, carrying her own little pocket of peace into war zones. Everyone who needs it is welcomed into it for a little respite. On the rare occasion she’s lounging in one of the rec rooms, it doesn’t take long before there’s a little gaggle of troopers around her.  There might be a dozen other, more comfortable chairs, but people seem to just gravitate to the ones closest to Obi-Wan’s chair. It is not that she is very entertaining company at all times. Sometimes the general just sits and reads an archival document and sometimes she is sipping her spicy tea (nobody knows where it is from nor why it’s about the only spicy thing she will eat or drink, but General Skywalker is often seen drinking the same tea, although in her case it’s the fact it is tea and not that it’s spicy that is puzzling) and sometimes, if you’re lucky, she will join a game of Sabaac and sweep the table. "

ALSO she's got a soundtrack !!!!!

translation's on genius, translated by yours truly <3

[kenobster]

📝🗣️

please i just love u talking abt ur fics

From this ask game.

Ahhhh thanks so much, anon!!! I'm super flattered. :D

I'm still sloooowly working my way through the asks I have in my inbox, but this one luckily had great timing so I'm doing this one before the others. (Though maybe this isn't what you wanted, anon... in which case, my deepest condolences. XD)

🗣️ Talk about your favorite WIP

We are using this question as an excuse to talk about the Vader Mpreg AU, which is, in fact, my favorite AU, but also is convenient for another post I was gonna make today, haha.

For context, there are a few things you should know about me:

I did not watch The Rise of Skywalker until literally three or four weeks ago.

I have never written an mpreg in my life. (It's true that lizard brain craves noncon in a way that compels me to read the occasional mpreg... But while writing my own fic, I do try to keep lizard brain's demands as realistic and in character as humanly possible.)

Perhaps the most important thing to note: lizard brain always wins.

Anyway... this all started when I happened upon the RoS spoiler: "Rey is Palpatine's granddaughter" in the year of 2022. Having not watched the movie, I immediately wondered who the fuck the grandmother is (a question to which my actual RL mother ceaselessly chants "Mommy Mothmama" every time; do not ask me why.) Of course, lizard brain, being lizard brain, immediately headcanoned a dubiously consenting Darth Vader somehow being this elusive grandmother person. (The "somehow" was not important to lizard brain.)

For a year or so, I actually put off watching RoS — in small part because lizard brain didn't want its headcanons to be refuted. Fortunately for lizard brain, I have amazingly supportive friends who informed me that Rey is actually the daughter of a strand (aka a special Force clone) which was cast into the world only to hook up with some unknown female. Unfortunately for my friends, lizard brain realized that this information didn't refute its grandma!Vader headcanons at all. Quite the opposite in fact. 🙄

Thus, began the saga of lizard brain's precious Vader Mpreg AU.

In summary, Palpatine creates a synthetic uterus to host an ordinary clone of himself. Then, he implants the uterus into Vader's abdomen and fucks the shit out of him to get some perverse dark-sided Force magic going. Why, you ask? :) Well, dear anon, in order to transform this regular clone baby into a strand of course, lizard brain replies. :) :) :) To be clear, there is no creation of a vagina nor any other method to give birth. Instead, this strand baby, once ripe for the picking, is simply plucked from Vader's abdomen via c-section, and a newly prepped uterus is inserted in its place. After that, Palpatine repeats this process and all of its trial-and-error glory every nine months for the rest of Vader's life. (But don't worry; Vader will eventually flee to Obi-Wan, who is horrified to find his once-Padawan eight months pregnant.)

Honestly, excepting dubcon/noncon, this actually isn't that weird for me. Lizard brain already possesses a plethora of headcanons in which Palpatine modifies Vader's body. The uterus implanting kinda just feels like an extension of that. (For an example of these headcanons, urinary and intrarectal catheters have been installed into Vader's body, not out of medical necessity, but because it would be inconvenient for Vader to have to pee and poop while dressed in the suit. For another, maybe Palpatine put in a full-blown mechno spine replacement to eliminate bothersome nervous-system functions such as the registration of pain.)

In fact, while this body-modifying headcanoning won't enable live births or lactating breasts (for now.... please don't tempt my lizard brain), it will go beyond the uterus. :) For example... prepping Vader for sex sounds like an incredibly tiresome task, and it's not like anyone else can do it. Vader doesn't have any limbs, after all. Instead, Palpatine wonders, why not have Vader's anus be self-lubricating in way similar to that of a vagina? Why not scifi-gene-splice the shit out of that butt canal? Why the fuck not?

📝Share a snippet of an unposted WIP, with or without context.

I feel like the above AU description is pretty clinical, so I thought it would be fun to bring some emotion back to it via the use of a snippet. So, enjoy the wildly inappropriate noncon of a pregnant male villain:

At some point, he realizes the truth—that it isn't him being fucked into the mattress, face down, ass hooked on his Master's cock. Sidious isn't fucking Darth Vader or even his body. Sidious isn't even fucking Anakin Skywalker. In actuality, Sidious is fucking the uterus. The womb. The fetus. The uncast strand, the unborn infant. In actuality, Sidious is fucking himself. The truth of it has him choking on the respirator, on a dry and tearless sob, because this isn't about him, none of this was ever about him, it's about what Sidious wants, what Sidious likes, what Sidious craves. Vader is only the conduit of this ritual—far less than a pet or even a slave. Once, yes, he may have been an object of Sidious's obsession, and maybe he liked that, maybe he liked the way that Sidious took pride in what was once his greatest creation, in twisting Anakin Skywalker into this charred and rotten beast of a Sith. Because, even loveless, Sidious's pride burns value into Vader's flesh. Makes Vader feel as if he matters, as if he's worth something, as if he can live up to the magnitude of the pressure smothering him from the inside out. Punishment, after all, and pain and strife and sorrow, are their own kind of affection, ideal for the swollen carcass of need festering within his chest, and often better than the shame that blooms with praise.  Right now, as his sphincter clenches around the cock inside him, as the base of his spine shoots overwhelming pleasure upward, as a fetus kicks at its shrinking walls pressed against the mattress, Vader finds that he is being neglected. The absence of Sidious's intimacy leaves his furnace-heart chilly and black and hollow, and he chokes and sobs and chokes and sobs, and the monotonous blue-blue-blue of this bedroom becomes half-blurred and dizzy as a torrent of tears spills from his right eye's still-functioning tear duct. The thrusting crests, and tapers out. Sidious's breathing evens, but Vader's choked sobs just won't die.

I would say I'm sorry, but I am who I am lmao.

[discoidal]

no zoe u literally are the cool mutual and when u followed me i GASPED incredulously bc i could not believe it (much love to u mwah mwah mwah)

NO THATS CRAZY im afraid to tell u the whole story bc i feel like it makes me look crazy but ok so ive been on tumblr since i was 9. normal way to start a story. anyways i was nine in 2014 ive followed u since like 2016 and every so often until now i get like. tumblr crushes. which is not like a romantic or even a platonic crush but its like i love someone's tumblr presence so much that i just manifest us becoming tumblr besties like reblogging everything and commenting and being way too invested . and like feeding into my delusions is the fact that IT WORKS A LOT like im mutuals with so so many cool people and they dont know im like . vividly manifesting it bc i am so forcibly nonchalant. oh and i havent even told the story so i had a tumblr crush on u for forever and then i had a thing where i was like This Is Unhealthy (it literally wasnt i just dont trust myself) and Im Acting Crazy so i unfollowed u and then some time passed maybe a lot of time idk and like. u followed this blog . and i saw that notif and actively screamed so im actually not delusional im excellent and i have 100% normal social thoughts and interactions

[dicmondskies]

☆ & * .   ♡   I N T R O D U C T I O N  …

[          ◟  KAY. ◝           ]     ⸻     have  you  ever  heard girls just wanna have fun  by cindy lauper  ,  well  it  is  PENELOPE DAVIS  to  a  tee  .  the  thirty two year  old kindergarten teacher has  been  spotted  wandering  down  portobello  road  markets  just  last  sunday  ,  do  you  know  them  ?  would  you  say  she  are  more  people pleasing  or more  young at heart  ?  anyway  ,  they  remind  me  of  half way finished arts and crafts  ;  librarian glasses  ;  mrs frizzle from the magic school bus  ;  adult coloring books for anxiety ,  maybe  you'll  catch  them  around  yeah  ?    ⸻     [          ◟  ZOOEY DESCHANNEL. ◝           ]    

trigger warning: murderer, serial killer, divorce, abandonment

penelope davis was a big eyed, too nice, naïve little girl. growing up with her mother and grandmother, she was nurtured, loved, and cherished. she was also very sheltered and therefore wasn’t always able to see things for their blunt truths, as her mother tried to protect her from the outside world as much as possible. penelope has never known her father and most of the time it doesn’t have much effect on her. as a young girl she never really asked too many questions, she was observant but understood even young that the subject of her dad made her mother emotional and her grandmother angry. all she really knows is that he left long before she was born, and that he most likely was never coming back around. penelope was very much so always taking care of her mother’s emotions and holding things inside as not to upset her, even though penelope was the child and shouldn’t have had that responsibility on her at so young. in fact, she was always taking care of the adults in her family, coddling them and tip toeing around their reactiveness.

it was draining, being the only adult in the room when you aren’t even an adult. this only prepared penelope for the care taking skills she would gain when in her young adult life, skills that make her an exceptional child psychologist. as a college student, penelope worked her ass off and finally had a sense of freedom when she moved on campus and was able to do life on her own for the first time. she was the kind of girl who took her studies serious but her friends on campus made sure to help her keep a healthy balance of work and play. it was here at university that penelope met the man she thought she’d spend the rest of her life with. brandon was charming, quiet, sweet, and head over heels in love with her. they did everything together, and looking back, maybe it was a bit too much too soon. penelope had never been in a serious relationship before. taking care of her emotionally sick grandmother and mother didn’t leave her much time for a personal life growing up, and sure, she’d gone on dates before but this was her first real relationship. it was all so new, so raw, and so exhilarating.

when penelope was twenty two, the two got married. at twenty five, penelope was having her first child. it was all so perfect, it was all so surreal. she was barely twenty five and already had her dream job, dream husband, and a new baby coming into the world to be loved and spoiled rotten. penelope was a natural born mother, she’d waited her whole life for something to complete her like motherhood did. things were going great, penelope was on cloud nine. it wasn’t until their daughter was born that brandon started to completely change his behavior. he went from being attending, kind, and loving to being withdrawn, distant, and coming home late at all hours of the night. penelope knew something was all sorts of wrong but she never would have imagined the grim truth of what her husband was doing behind closed doors. one cold autumn morning, detectives showed up at her door to let her know that her husband had been arrested and linked to three different murders of young college students in the united states. her world came crashing down, her life was never the same.

penelope wasn’t stupid, she saw the evidence against her husband and immediately knew she could never have anything to do with him again. her mom and grandmother were mortified and they cared more about the embarrassment it brought the family rather than penelope’s well being. people would vandalize her property, friends started looking at her funny, she couldn’t even go to the grocery store anymore. enough was enough, penelope decided that america had nothing left to salvage and she packed her things and moved to nottinghill with her daughter mia and has never looked back. she is officially divorced and lives with her three male roommates in a loft style flat. they are like a big family and penelope never speaks about her past.

[mell0bee]

3, 4, 18, or 27 for the ask meme?

too bad val i am answering all of them (also spicier ones are under the cut) (also ty for the ask!)

4. Minor character you are (correctly) obsessed with.

i am picking one for each campaign bc. hehehe (do i have a thing for unhinged women. yes)

c1: ok i know she is not so minor but ridley. i think she is my fav c1 villain. i love how she interacts with the party, she is literally the perfect foil to percy (like oh my god, you wanna talk about narrative foils, who is doing it like percy and ridley???), and she gets by far the most iconic and memorable death of any c1 villain imo. "percy's killing you, not us" has been burned into my brain since i heard it. i also think it is partially the tlovm effect, but she is highly underrated compared to the briarwoods like idk man i feel like nobody talks about her nowadays even though she was in tlovm!!! plus every single fanart of her SLAPS and so does marisha's halloween costume. in conclusion: i love her

c2: i would say astrid but she is too major imo so VESS DEROGNA. im literally obsessed with her what was UP with her connection to the nine eyes like what was her relationship with the tomb takers and WHAT was she even trying to ACCOMPLISH like GIRL and also the beacons and yeza like what was she trying to have him do??? was it just her or was the whole assembly in on it?? and then she just turns into a STORY HOOK and DIES and granted that is also a certified iconic cr moment but like girl!!! girl what!!!! NOT TO MENTION she holds the EXACT SAME POSITION delilah briarwood HERSELF held and we know NOTHING ABOUT THAT. i think she is for sure far more connected than people give her credit for and is perhaps behind some of the c3 happenings. she is the literal definition of haunting the narrative like bestie she caused the entire aeor arc and Nobody talks about her!!! girl what!!! anyways as u can see i think about her on a very regular basis tbh. im obsessed.

c3: marwa. i dont have a lot to say about her other than shes just like me fr and i hope that she is the shopkeeper they decide to befriend this campaign bc i love her

18. Share one unpopular opinion but it must specifically only pertain to Sam's ads.

I Did Not Like The D&D Beyond Presidential Race Bits (besides the one where ashley roasts sam). im sorry sam and liam.

27. Pick one character, ship, or party; and one song you associate most with them, and explain why. This song cannot be on an existing playlist from the main cast. It also cannot be We Have it All by the Pim Stones nor Dust Bowl Dance by Mumford & Sons; I love those AMVs but please think for yourself.

i mean like i have a whole post about bells hells as the oh hellos songs. i also do in fact have several working dedicated character playlists bc im Like That (including a laerynn playlist that is only mitski songs, aabria i hope you are proud of me). HOWEVER chasing twisters by delta rae is an imodna song bc 1) i saw an animatic of it (i am in fact not a free thinker) 2) yeehaw, storm, and undead vibes and 3) there are literally 2 female singers and the first verse is imogen (born with lightning in her heels, lost hope when she was still young, breakin' horses in the sky, chasing twisters in the canyon) and the second verse is laudna (notably has little soul left, idk if imogen is the only soul laudna has saved but she has in fact saved her) and 4) kiki hasnt watched c3 in like a year but she said this song reminds her of imodna when i sent it to her and kiki is always right. its so perfect sue me (also this is one of like maybe 3 ship songs i can think of lmao)

not nearly as spicy as the other one but this is gonna go under the cut anyway

3. Minor character people in the fandom are obsessed with that makes you go "them? why?

oh my god ngl i had to go on the wiki for this one. couldnt think of anyone off the top of my head. i dont think he counts as a minor character but yussa. hes just like. some guy to me. who keeps doing Wizard Stuff when he really shouldn't. and hes also a trans king ofc. like idk i like him, but idk why some ppl are obsessed with him.

[cockelores]

maybe not relevant or interesting for anyone except me, but i keep thinking about the nerd hq panel from 2014 and one question that was asked there, so I’m making a little analysis post <3 i also briefly looked through some posts from that time, but didn’t see this interaction mentioned anywhere, so! here it goes

the question starts at 9:27 and the whole answering goes til 14:30. (I’d say it’s worth watching it play out in the video first, just to be able to feel this a little more, u know)

the fan asks: “what has been the best/most memorable moment and experience this whole journey you guys have done with the show?”

jared: oh that’s easy. no, it actually is easy for me, i met my wife on the show. uh, yeah, the mother of my two kids. so right, that’s easy for me. good luck guys.

then he gives them this look and jensen waits a second and (without looking at him directly) says “thanks jared”

at the same time misha starts answering the question: for me it was the first time that I - I- slept with [a short pause that seems aaalmost deliberate here] jared’s wife

jensen nods a little exaggeratedly and looks around, and idk if it’s just me but he has a weird, sort of far away look in his eyes? like he’s thinking hard about an answer of his own or something. mark jokes about how misha is the father of jared’s two kids then, and jensen looks like he only grins at that because everyone else is laughing too, not like he necessarily listened all that well lol

misha fidgets and grins and looks a little awkward, but he throws a very short glance at jensen before looking at the audience again

they keep joking about that a little more, “are we live again? I’ll be more careful” and about someone in the audience

then jared asks: what about you sheppar-......ackles?

jensen turns to him and looks kind of caught off guard, turns to mark who asks “who?” and back to jared again and asks “what?” himself. he seems a little unprepared, actually audibly gulps when he makes an attempt at answering, stammers a little and passes the question on to mark at last

idk about you, but to me it looks like ever since jared answered the question at the beginning, jensen has come up with a very similar answer in his head - an answer that he’s obviously not gonna say out loud. and he’s sort of struggling to come up with an alternative and seems like he’d rather just be ignored and move on to the next question.

anyway, there’s some short banter between mark and the moderator, and then misha picks up where he left his previous answer: i have to say for me, and I’m not gonna distill it to a single moment, other than the one that i mentioned earlier. 

jared interrupts and makes a joke about how it was probably just a single moment, everyone laughs (sadly the camera doesn’t pan to jensen, would have liked to see how he reacted) and some jokes follow, and misha never finishes his answer

mark then asks “what about you jensen?” and jensen ONCE AGAIN seems to have expected that he could have gotten out of this one without answering and says “what?” and somehow manages to pass the question on to mark again

[not relevant for this post at all but here are two gifs that i just wanted to include

ok continuing with the post]

mark talks about how he was bullied on set by jared (as a joke but also, it makes me feel very uncomfy if what he said is true (also now after charcon i wonder why he said he wasn’t pranked by jared? (or did he say that, i didn’t watch)))

and then, at last, it looks like jensen has come up with an answer! he talks about how directing his father was a memorable experience for him and finishes his answer like this: there’s been a lot of great moments though over the past nine years. and i would say the fact we can say it has been nine years is one of the greatest things of the series that we can say, so thank you.

very curious to know if he is looking at mark or at misha here (the latter is not looking back) but this conclusion to the question gives me a lot of “i have some amazing pebbles in my life [pats misha’s shoulder]” vibes

anyway, just looking at all of this through cockles glasses sure is something! at least to me! starting with jared’s answer at the beginning, i think he has every right to say what he said, because meeting your spouse has got to have a very very significant meaning to you, but it is inevitably gonna put the other couple in a weird spot. they might like to repeat what he said, make it even funnier by turning to mark and repeat jareds words like “good luck mark!!” but yeah, obviously not happening. 

but then what misha answers at first does seem to me like it is an attempt? like a joke that is funny hearing in the most overt way, him literally joking about sleeping with jared’s wife, but also like an inside joke between the four of them who can see the subtext of what he is saying. and that’s also why i imagine the very brief pause after he says “sleeping with” was deliberate, because perhaps he was intending to give them a short heart attack, like he was gonna mention someone else after that 😀

and then there’s the whole thing with how jensen is acting throughout this. if i try to imagine myself in his position, it feels so logical that he’s acting kind of off? because he does get put on the spot a little here. but this is all just about vibes and feelings here, idk!! it just makes me nod in a way, like yeah jensen, i get this somehow. the queer experience, one might say

I feel like i could say more, but maybe the clip also speaks for itself. from a cockles pov it’s all just.....sus

[xx-narcissa]

just finished the legend of vox machina and oh my lord okay spoilers below so y’know don’t keep reading if u haven’t watched it

tldr; overall it gets a 8.5/10. definitely recommend if you’re into fantasy animation like she-ra (2018) or the dragon prince, although this has more adult content. good show, good characters, good plot! <3

okay so anyways i’m very upset that vax and keyleth did not kiss🙄 if there is a season 2 (which i’m hoping there is because that was a major cliffhanger) then someone pls let them kiss 👏 if u have made fanart of them or if you have seen fanart of them pls send it to me or tag the account below because i’d love to see some they are my comfort ship rn

i want to give percy a hug so bad.

i really liked all the characters, they were interesting and entertaining and hopefully in the next season or whatever he get a little more backstory for them. obviously we have the most backstory for percy and cassandra but hopefully we can get more insight into the twins past, keyleths past although i think hers is a bit self explanatory, pikes past, scanlans past, grogs past, just everybody’s past! what happened to them that shaped who they are now? it doesn’t have to be shown over a whole ass season like percy’s was but at least give them an episode or two of some backstory but work it in in a way that’s at least relevant to the plot.

overall i’ll give it a 8.5/10. it was entertaining, interesting, and visually appealing. only thing that i didn’t particularly like was like i said before how we didn’t get to see much insight into all the main characters but if we’re getting another season then that’s not a problem because hopefully we will get it then. another thing was the antagonists. the briarwoods were a really good antagonist given the fact that they tied into percy’s past but the transition from dragons to vampires and witches and shit was a little weird. but i assume the dragon in the beginning sets us up for season 2 because of the way season 1 ended with the dragons flying towards emon. even still, i get they had to set it up like that but it could’ve been a bit smoother or maybe the antagonists could have had a bit more in common because it’s weird they defeated a whole dragon in like less than three episodes and then took another nine to defeat the briarwoods. if this was ‘the legend of the de rolos’ then okay but it’s not it’s the legend of VOX MACHINA not just percy. but regardless it was a good watch and the pacing was decent although i got a bit confused about the time frame a couple times. overall i’d recommend it if you’re into fantasy and animation. it reminds me of she ra (2018) and of the dragon prince but of course with adult content which definitely adds to the humor. but yeah if you like those two shows then you’ll most likely like this. i’d love to hear you guys’ thoughts on it! sorry this was so in depth but it’s fresh in my mind so i’m just getting all my thoughts out.