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dilatorywriting · 1 year

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Valentine's Day Special: Let Them Fight

GN!Reader x Malleus Draconia vs. Azul Ashengrotto vs. Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: Who knew that in a world of magic, and mayhem, and outright villainy, that it'd be something as stupid as Valentine's Day that would push these idiots over the edge. Or, Malleus, Azul, and Vil go to war over some chocolates

A/N: This MC/Plot takes place in the Heroes vs Villains universe -- specifically Post-Staff's route, rather than any of our other lovely idiot husbands.

There was always some sort of strange overlap of customs from your world to this one. Halloween seemed to have survived more or less intact (even if it was a bit more, uh, extreme than the subtle evening of giving out treats and dressing as ghosts that you remembered). Winter Holidays were still very much a Thing, even if all other connotations had been stripped from them. Moreover, it was like someone had taken your familiar Earthen calendar and just sort of… mirrored it. Distorted it a bit. Just a lil’ bit more chaos than would have been socially acceptable back home.

So when you made a sly little joke about stocking up on discount chocolates after the Valentine’s Day rush and no one laughed—not even a little chortle, or an irritable eyeroll—you initially thought it was maybe to do with the irrationality of Sam’s Shop ever having a sale to begin with. You had not assumed that, you know, there was no Valentine’s Day at all.

“It’s an important holiday, then? Where you’re from?” Azul mused, busy scribbling endless, chicken scratch, notes in the margins of some form that was probably very important.

“I mean, not really,” you frowned, tossing your Mostro-Branded apron onto its hook. “Maybe. Yes? I don’t really know, actually.”

He hummed and moved to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Well, whatever it is, I’m always looking for new events to host at the Lounge. What exactly is it?”

“It’s a sort of special day for couples. Romance. Lovey-dovey nonsense,” you shrugged, and watched Azul’s finger slip off the slick metal frame of his glasses and nearly take his eye out. You waved off his obvious disgust with a dramatic sigh (I mean, why else would he be so stiff and red?). “Yeah, yeah. I know. It’s ridiculous.”

“I—I never said that!” he spluttered, and then paused to cough into his fist and clear his throat. “It just—I just wasn’t expecting something like that to…”

“Exist?”

He grinned, wry. His cheeks were still a bit too pink. “Precisely.”

“You would have loved my world,” you said. “Very capitalistic. Lots of cash-grab holidays like that.”

Azul laughed.

“I’m sure I would be fond of any place you came from.” He paused, and his expression puckered up a bit miserably—like he really hadn’t intended to express such a sentiment aloud. But he managed to smooth the sharp line of his frown back into that usual, smarmy, smirk of his easily enough. “But either way! Tell me more!” he grinned, reaching forward to grab a stack of blank paper and a fresh pen. “I’d love to hear all about it.”

The next day you were supposed to help the Drama Club start building some stage scenery for their newest play. It was proper grunt work, which was perhaps the only sort of work you were actually qualified for. And Vil always made sure that there were plenty of disgustingly healthy but still quite tasty snacks available for the help to munch on. The food spread alone would have been worth the trip, but on top of that, Vil had made you promise. Practically a blood oath, binding you and your meager free time to the shitty supply closet in the corner of the Auditorium. And as sour as he could be sometimes, you really could never say no to him when he always looked so heart meltingly fond whenever you did agree to while away the hours at his side. That lovely face and even lovelier smile of his were fucking lethal. A war crime, surely, to use it against someone as plain and susceptible to bribery as you were.

But today you were now an idiot on a mission—an idiot determined to spread the joy of a trashy holiday that really probably shouldn’t exist in the first place, let alone in a world where people worshipped storybook villains as veritable deities. And you’d already bought all the molds, and the trays, and you really didn’t have a lot of spare pocket money to begin with, so letting this investment go to waste would not only be a shame, but a terrible business investment.

“What do you mean you’re not coming,” Vil sneered, glaring down his perfectly straight nose at you.

“I really am sorry,” you said, mostly genuine. “But I have something I need to do this afternoon.”

“You’ve made other plans?” he frowned, something a little too unsettled to fit with his usual regality twisting across his expression.

“I have to get ready for Valentine’s Day,” you explained, and his brow tugged down further. Though that earlier twinge of panic seemed to have vanished at least. You pointedly shook your grocery bag full of goodies. “I’m going to make chocolates for everyone.”

“Chocolates?” Vil echoed, confused.

You nodded. “It’s a tradition back home. You give stuff like candy and flowers to the people you care about. Normally it’s a holiday for couples, or whatever. But. Well…”

The ‘I Am Fully Aware That I’m Single as a Pringle, Please Just Let Me Have This One Thing’ was left unsaid, but it hung in the air around your head like a very persistent storm cloud nonetheless. Vil, magnanimously, seemed perfectly happy to ignore the Woe Is Me implications spewing from your mouth. Instead, he leaned forward until he was dipping precariously close into your personal space. His amethyst eyes had lit with blatant interest at your ramblings, and he hummed low in his throat.

“Is that so?” he mused, gaze lidded and warm. “That sounds… intriguing.”

You nodded past the heady scent of his cologne fogging your head. What was it with attractive people, huh? It was so unfair. You don’t get to look and smell good. Pick a lane. Save some dignity for the rest of us.

“So, I promise I’ll help another day. I just have a feeling making chocolates is going to wind up being a lot harder than I think it will.”

Because that’s how it always went in your stupid slice-of-life shows. The poor, harried, protagonist thinking they’re doing a good deed—painstakingly constructing their own, special, homemade goodies for all their important people. Making them with love. And then having it all blow up in their face like a goddamn, cocoa flavored, nuke. Nope. Not you, motherfucker. Your chocolates were going to be divine. You were going to take every, tropey, precaution in the book. And that of course included allotting yourself ample time to make mistakes your masterpiece.

“Of course,” Vil grinned. “How could I possibly begrudge you for wanting to spend your time on something so heartfelt?”

“Thank you,” you blurted, relived. Because at least he got it. Azul had been so ridiculously insistent that you should prepare all your Valentine’s Day wishes as a team. Which was not the point. He’d spent hours last night trying to wheedle his way into your plans—with endless platitudes about ‘business partners always being there for each other,’ and ‘how would he know if he was celebrating to your standards if he wasn’t given a model to work off of first?’ Utter bullshit. He’d probably just wanted free labor.

“Tomorrow, then?” Vil beamed and you nodded.

“Tomorrow,” you confirmed.

“Well, then,” he hummed. “I better get to work as well. I suppose the scenery can wait.”

You nodded in farewell and began the trek back to Ramshackle and its marginally functional kitchens. You hadn’t realized Vil was taking on any new projects, but if it was enough to have him putting off the Club’s activities as well then it must have been pretty important. Maybe he’d get you tickets to it whenever he finished—whatever it was. If there were tickets? How did any of the things he did actually work? Hell if you knew.

Making chocolates was, in fact, a laughably easy endeavor. And you found yourself cursing every goddamn Shoujo Bullshit Manga under the sun for leading you to think otherwise. The hardest part of the entire thing was fighting off Grim and his wandering paws.

You made up some basic truffles which were, again, stupidly simple. Just some messily chopped chocolate, cream, and a little splash of vanilla to make it Special. Once those were shaped into messy blobs, you dipped them into some more melted chocolate and bam. That was it. That was literally it. You felt like a genius—sitting there mushing up balls of cocoa like high-end playdough.

By 6PM, you had all your little darlings tucked into the refrigerator to harden, all the gauzy, red, boxes lined up on your counter and ready to be filled, and Grim had been placated with an offering of all your dirty mixing bowls. The tiny, demonic, beast was passed out at the dingy kitchen table—one of said bowls wedged onto his head like an astronaut’s helmet. Hopefully it was just a food coma and not, like, an actual coma-coma. Real cats couldn’t eat chocolate, but Grim never really seemed real at all. So hopefully he’d be fine.

You wiped down your cooking space once, twice. Paced up and down the narrow hallway until you were wearing away the already threadbare rugs, and spent way too long just standing in front of the fridge—staring in on your chocolates like a psychotic kidnapper scoping out their next victims.

Eventually you realized that you maybe needed to do something with your evening that wasn’t just creeping on your confections, and set out into the frosty, night, air for a stroll.

Which is, of course, where you ran into your familiar, horned, friend—staring up into the starry sky in a wistful manner that darkened his pale complexion into something nearly ominous. He always looked a bit like that, like something unearthly and detached from the rest of the world.

“Tsunotarou!” you chirped happily, and that adrift-at-sea expression of his melted right off his face.

“Child of Man,” he greeted, inclining his head politely. “I wasn’t expecting to see you this evening.” His brow furrowed, almost confused. “Is it not too cold for you?”

Your breath was, in fact, fogging in front of your face. And you couldn’t really feel your toes anymore. But the electric anticipation of tomorrow was keeping you warm enough. Even if only in spirit.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you waved him off. And then, because you couldn’t help yourself, you leaned forward on your tippytoes and blurted out, “Happy Almost Valentine’s Day!”

“Valentine’s Day?” Malleus repeated back at you, looking like you’d just handed him an unsolvable differential equation.

“It’s a holiday from back home,” you explained for the umpteenth time that day. “And normally I’m not too fussed about it, but this year I’m really excited to give everyone their chocolates!” You grinned. “And you too, of course. I have to make sure I give them to all my important people.”

The furrow between his brows vanished, but the blatant, gaping, confusion remained. He looked like you’d nearly startled him into an early grave.

“I am one of your most important people?” he asked, slow as a tortoise making its way up an incline.

You nodded cheerfully, still bellied by your earlier culinary successes and excellent mood. “Of course you are! We’re friends, aren’t we? And besides. Valentine’s Day is for showing people how much you care about them.”

“What an interesting concept,” he mused, bringing a finger up to tap at his chin. “To think your world had such a heartfelt tradition—it’s quite a lovely surprise.”

You laughed. “If you think the chocolates are special, you should see what some couples do for each other. Rooms full of flowers, fancy date nights—I’m just managing the bare minimum.”

“Couples?” he echoed, and you felt the first teeny, hot, thread of chagrin work its way past your enthusiasm.

“Well, normally Valentine’s Day focuses on, like, romantic things,” you said, averting your gaze just in time to miss the tension lance through his shoulders. “But it can be for all sorts of affection!” you hastily added.

“Is that so…” the Prince hummed. He lifted his pensive gaze once more and stared you down with that weighted intensity that you’d only just recently learned how not to buckle beneath. “And you wish to celebrate this day. With me?”

“…you don’t mind, do you?” you asked, hesitant.

“Of course not, Child of Man,” he beamed, his lips curling up into a smile that put all his too-sharp teeth on display. “But you’ll have to excuse me now, I’m afraid. It seems I have some preparations to undertake this evening.”

“Oh,” you blinked. “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Yes,” Malleus said. “You will.”

It was officially Valentine’s Day, and you were ready to begin your mission of forcing your sweets onto every, single, one of your reluctant friends. Let them be pissy and tsundere. You weren’t afraid to weep and proclaim your undying, shounen-talk-no-jutsu, levels of friendship. Okay. Maybe you were a little. But these grouchy bastards had very easily become your grouchy bastards, and so help you God, they would suffer under your affection and they would like it.

There were plenty of small boxes—all nice, neat, corners with little bows perched on top. But you had also prepared a singular, larger, tray. It was cleaner cut than the rest, with bold, contrasting, colors and a simple elegance. You stared it down with a strange sort of disquiet brewing in your gut. Maybe you were being presumptuous. Goodness knows you’d more than dealt with the searing, emotionally destructive, consequences of that before. But all the same…

You squared your shoulders and spent a moment convincing yourself that your spine was quite sturdy—a proper, titanium, support system—and then popped the Big Box into the bag with the others.

Your first stop was Heartslabyul, and you burst through the ornate, crimson, doors like a manic home invader.

“I come bearing gifts,” you proclaimed, merrily doling out the boxes to your favorite idiot duo. You set three more aside, with little labels for Riddle, Trey, and Cater respectively. Normally you wouldn’t trust a dorm full of teenage boys not to devour any scrap of unattended food in sight, but Riddle had long since struck the fear of God into these poor lads. So you figured it’d be safe.

Deuce’s face lit up and he accepted the chocolate with near starry-eyed enthusiasm.

“Are these your holiday presents? Like the Santa Claus?” he asked, looking very much like a bouncy golden retriever preparing itself for congratulatory head pats.

You leaned forward with an indulgent huff to give him his pats. “No. But close enough.”

You pawned off three boxes on Ruggie when he tried to duck past you in the hallway—one for him, one for Leona, and one extra as payment for making him do your dirty work of playing delivery boy to Mister Grump in the first place. You slipped Jack his on the way into Trein’s morning lecture, and managed to press a box into Jamil’s hands before he slunk off to the library. Kalim cheered so loudly when you handed him one that your ears started to ring.

And then trouble arrived in the form of two, slippery, eels draping themselves across your shoulders. Normally the destructive duo seemed to act on their own prerogative, but on this fortuitous morning their Lord and Master was surprisingly not too far behind.

“Shrimpy!~” Floyd trilled, dragging you into a one-armed hug that was really more of a slightly-less-aggressive headlock than anything else. “Azul says you came up with this stupid holiday! And he made us work all day yesterdayto put together stuff for the Lounge! It’s not fair!”

Your legs shook under the weight of the new tumor that had made its home on your back.

“Now, Floyd,” Jade chirped. All finely manicured cruelty. “If you’re to blame anyone for going overboard with this entire situation, you ought to lay the fault on our fearless leader.” His bi-colored eyes flashed, amused. “Isn’t that right, Azul?”

Said ‘fearless leader’ looked like he was sucking on a lemon. He glared bitterly at his subordinate, seeming to share an entire, silent, argument with him, before turning back on you with a heavy sigh and the barest hint of angry flush in his cheeks.

“Prefect,” he grinned past his obvious discomfort, all sparkling, white, teeth. “I have to thank you for sharing so much information about this ‘Valentine’s Day’ of yours. It’s such a unique event, and it seems like our preparations at the Lounge are already being received incredibly well.”

“That’s good,” you nodded, trying and failing to shrug the Leech off your shoulders. “I’m glad I could help.”

Azul hummed under his breath, his eyes darting away for a moment. His glasses reflected the muted light of the hall in an odd way—making it difficult to read his expression. He cleared his throat and when he looked back up at you, the tips of his ears had gone pink.

“You’re more than welcome to come by, of course,” he beamed, suave as could be.

“I mean,” you blinked. “I would hope so. I work there.”

Floyd let out a bark of laughter and Jade snickered into his glove. The pleasant pink tinting Azul’s skin was heating to a near sunburned red. He looked down and coughed into his fist.

“Yes…” he mumbled. “I—I’m aware. But what I meant is… What I meant—” He frowned. It was a tight, pouty, little thing that scrunched up his entire face. That mottled red had spread to the bridge of his nose.

“I do believe what Azul is trying to say,” Jade stepped in, clearly taking some sort of pity on his tongue-tied friend. Or perhaps pity was the wrong word for it, seeing how smug he looked, “is that he would like to invite you to the event personally. As an honored guest, not an employee.”

“Oh,” you blinked, startled. Then hesitated, cautious on instinct. There was always some sort of catch to the Octomer’s kindness. “I don’t know if I could afford whatever fancy thing you’ve thrown together.”

“You wouldn’t be paying for it,” Azul assured you, some of that sickly flush having finally started to recede from his cheeks. You hoped he was feeling alright. “You’ve contributed more than enough for the day. It would be on the house.”

Jade loudly cleared his throat and Azul huffed, eyes sliding away yet again.

“I would be paying,” he finally mumbled. And then, even quieter, “As I believe is the custom.”

Just as you were about to thank him for his startling bought of generosity (and also ask after his health, because between the weird, pink, tinge to his skin and the aforementioned generosity, clearly somethingwas out of sorts with him), you noticed a sneaky hand working its way into your bag of goodies, and you immediately were on the defensive.

“Hey!” you snapped, spinning out of Floyd’s stranglehold. “You only get one!”

“Then I want the really big one!” he demanded, making grabby motions at it.

“No!” you squeaked, and clutched it protectively to your chest. The trio looked at you with varying degrees of surprise and you cleared your throat awkwardly. “This one—This one is special.”

“Oh?” Jade cooed, eyes flickering back towards Azul, who seemed determined to look absolutely anywhere else. “Is it now?”

“Awww,” Floyd whined. “That’s no fair! Who’s it for, anyways?!”

You gripped the box tighter and now it was your turn to stiffly avert your eyes down to the ugly carpet. “It’s not—I’m not—” you cleared your throat and forced the jitter from your voice. “I’m not ready to give it to him yet.”

The silence that followed was absolutely the worst thing you’d experienced in a long, long, time. Overblots and all. You could practically hear your blood pounding in your ears. You were just about to turn and beat a hasty retreat when a familiar, snappish, voice called your name from the other side of the corridor.

“There you are, potato,” Vil huffed, coming to stand at your side and bodily inserting himself between you and your tormentors. He met Azul’s petulant sneer with a frankly terrifying one of his own. “What are you doing here? I thought we agreed you’d be eating lunch with me today.”

You remembered no such thing, but if it got you out of this verbal minefield of a conversation, you were more than willing to take the claim at face value.

“Apologies,” Azul cut in with all his usual, mafioso, flair. “But the Prefect will be taking their afternoon meal at the Mostro Lounge today.”

“Is that so?” Vil hummed, sounding positively venomous.

“Unless you think you can make an offer good enough to sway them otherwise,” Azul chirped, equally as unpleasant.

Vil laughed—cold and sharp as crystal. It was the most elegant display of blatant irritation you’d ever seen.

“Of course you’d only consider this entire situation on a transactional basis,” he drawled, entirely unimpressed. Azul flinched and his expression screwed up into something near petulant. “I would expect no less. Are you planning to lock them into a contact too, hmm? Sign away everything in formal, sterile, terms?” Vil crossed his arms, and you were reminded sharply once more how very, very lucky you were to not be on his bad side (even if you hadn’t realized before all this that Azul apparently was on said bad side. You had no idea they disliked each other so terribly). “I really hadn’t expected you to have a single, romantic, bone in your body, and yet somehow I’m still disappointed to be proved so entirely correct.”

Azul looked ready to explode, and even though Jade and Floyd and melted back into the shadows at the start of this entire encounter, the pair of them were starting to look a bit murderous too—like sharks lazily circling the dark, ocean, depths.

“Don’t you think you deserve better?” Vil asserted, turning back to face you with a soft cant of the head. You blinked back in shock.

“Uh,” you gaped, absolutely fucking lost.

And then, like a beacon of unrivaled, black-drenched, hope, you spotted Malleus making his way down the hallway. He was flanked by his trio of housemates-cum-pseudo-bodyguards. Normally you tried to leave him alone when his rabid, green-haired, guard dog was yipping at his heels, and on top of that, the idea of using your classmates’ ingrained fear of the Fae Prince to your own advantage upset your rather staunch sensibilities. But this was an emergency.

“Tsunotarou!” you called, and it absolutely sounded like the cry for help it was.

He perked up immediately and you watched him nearly crash to a standstill. And then his sharp, neon, gaze locked on the dueling Housewardens circling you like a pair of snapping wolves, and his merry expression shuttered into something positively glacial. Which was—Fuck. I mean. Come on. What the fuck was going on today—

“Child of Man,” he droned, crossing the short distance with all the grace of the near-mythical, arcane, master that he was. His posture was more collected and regal than you’d ever seen it, and he loomed all the taller for it.

Azul and Vil had gone tense at your side, one certainly more so than other. The Octomer looked incredibly unsettled at Malleus’s sudden arrival, but Vil just looked angrier. It was the sort of unpleasantness that bloomed whenever someone challenged him or his competencies over and over—inevitably pushing the normally composed beauty into an indignant rage.

“Happy Day of Valentine’s,” Malleus continued, slotting himself firmly into the veritable territory dispute going down. “Are you quite alright?”

No, you wanted to wail. No! I’m so confused! I have no idea what’s going on! I just wanted to give my friends chocolates!

But you never managed to get those words or any others past your lips, because Sebek Zigvolt shot to his master’s side with all the speed of the lightning for which he was so named, and immediately began to scream.

“HOW DARE YOU INTERRUPT THE YOUNG MASTER’S AFTERNOON ROUTINE!” he shrieked at the top of his very impressive lungs.

You weren’t sure if he was howling at you (very likely) or just anyone who wasn’t Malleus, but Jade took the opportunity to slink forward from the shadows with a sharp tut-tut.

“Perhaps none of you deserve the Prefect’s special attentions,” he piped in, sounding very much like someone intentionally throwing a cannister of gasoline onto an already roaring fire. “Or any chocolates at all—let alone the ones set aside for someone special.”

At this, silence once more rang through the corridor and you wanted to throttle that stupid eel.

“There is a special box?” Malleus asked first, brow shooting up as his expression tugged with… something.

“I—I mean, I made all of yours special!” you defended, holding the wrapped treasure tightly to your chest. “But… I guess. Yes. There’s one that’s a little bigger than the others.”

At this, all three Housewardens exchanged pointed looks.

Jade smiled serenely once more, and then continued his absolute massacre upon your person.

“Yes, indeed,” he nodded. “And our dearest Prefect only just mentioned that—hmm. How did you word it? Ah. That’s right. ‘I’m not ready to give it to him yet.’”

The trio tensed. All looking absolutely ready to pounce. At—at what, you had no idea.

“Perhaps,” the wretch mused, “it would be best for you all to temper your rage until the victor is decided, hmm?” He paused to tap at his chin for a moment, and then his lips split into a mean, jagged, grin. “Afterwards? Well, I suppose that whole cheery sentiment about ‘love and war’ still holds true.”

You gulped, feeling startlingly like Jade had just tried to serve you up on a silver platter.

But when neither Azul, Vil, or Malleus made any further moves to murder each other… well. As sacrificial as it all felt, at least it must have worked.

The rest of the day passed in a tense sort of fugue. You certainly hadn’t expected your attempts at bringing some holiday cheer to Night Raven to go so… Uh…

But either way, you managed to survive through the rest of the afternoon, and before you knew it, all that remained of all your tireless efforts and good will was the Special Box. The big one. The one that you’d put together with extra care and hopes for better things. You glared down at it for a moment, feeling sweat starting to bead over your palms. But you couldn’t chicken out now. Not after you’d come so far! Everyone was acting so strange, and it was all so weird. And as much as that unfamiliarity had your teeth on edge and your hackles raised, you didn’t want to regret not giving out the last of your well-made sweets.

Well, here goes nothing, you frowned. You took a deep breath, willed yourself to be brave, and smiled your biggest smile.

“Here,” you beamed, more than a little shy and still a bit horrified by whatever pissing match had been going down earlier in the day, and finally offered the grandest of your chocolate boxes to the man standing opposite you.

Divus Crewel accepted your offering daintily, plucking at the crisp, sharp, wrapping with his crimson gloves. He arched one of his thin brows at you and you fought the nervous heat rising in your cheeks.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you blurted. “I know it’s not a thing here, but I thought it’d be nice.”

The second eyebrow joined the first—practically jumping all the way up into his fringe.

“I appreciate the gesture. Though from what I understand of all the garish advertising I’ve seen for Mostro Lounge’s new event, I assumed this was a holiday for romantic overtures,” he intoned, wry.

You spluttered and waved your hands furiously. “I mean! Normally! Yes! But also…” You trailed off, fighting the urge to fidget. “If you don’t have a—a, well, someone, then Valentine’s is just a nice excuse to give something to people you care about.” You averted your gaze and lost the battle to twist your fingers into your jacket sleeves. “My family used to give me chocolates every year. So. I thought I could… Well…” you trailed off on a grumble, embarrassed.

Crewel sighed and popped the lid off the box. He plucked two truffles from their casing—keeping one for himself and handing you the other.

“Well, then. A very happy Valentine’s to you, Prefect,” he droned and popped the chocolate into his mouth with a thoughtful hum.

You lit up like a Christmas tree and happily gobbled up your own treat. So distracted were you by the one-two-punch combo of the delicious sugar and even sweeter taste of your Professor’s approval that you almost entirely missed the pointed glare he shot over your shoulder.

“I appreciate your regard,” he said, loud. Sharp. And like he wasn’t talking to you at all. “And while I’m certain that if you do pick a ‘someone’ for yourself to celebrate with in the following years, they’ll have to work very hard to be worthy of such a gift, hmm?” His lip curled unpleasantly, in direct contrast to the indulgent warmth that had been tugging at his expression only a moment before. “I could hardly allow you to waste such a thoughtful gesture on someone unworthy.”

The Octavinelle Housewarden had the decency to look at least a little panicked—his face going pale and gaunt from where he was shrinking into his high collar. There was a frantic look about him, like he was trying to weigh the cost-benefit ratio of going up against his professor in his head, and realizing that he was stupidly, willfully, walking right into a lose-lose situation. And that, sadly—miserably—he was going to keep doing just that. The other two, however, looked entirely undeterred. Schoenheit curled his lip right back at him, more than ready to duke it out here and now, and Crewel fought the urge to remind the blonde that he was the adult in this situation, thank you very much. The adult who could very well revoke the Warden’s access to his Alchemy Labs as it suited him. The very alchemy labs that he knew Vil had been using to concoct all kinds of new, personalized, gifts for you. Draconia simply looked on with that unnervingly ancient, green, leer of his. Like he was staring down a particularly fascinating game. The Fae Prince was the most unsettling of the trio, if only because that while Crewel was more than confident enough in his abilities to subdue his other wayward students, fighting off an Immortal, All Powerful, Dragon was going to require at least a little bit of prep work.

Divus Crewel sighed, and it rattled all the way out from the marrow of his bones.

“Come, then,” he rumbled, directing you to follow him back into his office. “It’s not chocolates, but I probably have some of those ridiculous cookies of yours lying around somewhere.” Which he did. Boxes upon boxes of them. Tucked away special for whenever you came to visit. Not that he’d ever willingly admit that, even under the pain of death.

Your eyes went wide and warm as you positively beamed.

It was rotten work, certainly. He shot one, last, warning glare down the hall at the trio of infatuated interlopers as he firmly shut his office door behind you and your absolute oblivious idiocy. He’d do it. Of course he would. But, Christ alive. He was going to need a stronger drink.

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tossawary · 7 months

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When writing fanfiction, there are a lot of unknowns surrounding Mobei-Jun that I answer based on what I think is compelling, funny, and/or contrasts well against SQH | Airplane Bro. (Sometimes, based on what contrasts interestingly and/or hilariously against Luo Binghe or Shen Qingqiu.) The choices I make for MBJ also depend on what suits that particular story.

An interesting question: "What kind of literature does Mobei-Jun like?" He's Airplane Bro's Ideal Man / Dream Guy! It's fun to think about what Mobei-Jun's relationship might be to fiction.

One choice that I've pulled a few times now is having Mobei-Jun be functionally illiterate, mostly because I think that situation is an interesting / amusing contrast to the guy who technically wrote the world into existence. Airplane Bro was cranking out thousands of words per day to eat, selling out his honest passion for literature, and Mobei-Jun can't / doesn't read.

There are lots of different potential reasons for this! Maybe Mobei-Jun is dyslexic. Maybe he desperately needs reading glasses and doesn't realize it. (Yes, maybe half of his glaring is just squinting.) Maybe his education was really bad because his family tried to murder him too many times. Maybe he just doesn't have any interest in fiction or in reading as a hobby in general, because paper / writing is rare in the Demon Realm for a variety of reasons and he's been busy building more relevant skills.

(Airplane Bro is shocked and offended, yes, but mostly because Mobei-Jun somehow successfully hid being unable to read from him for two or more decades. All of those "you read it" and "you write it" orders suddenly make so much sense.)

Another direction for "Mobei-Jun's relationship to media" that I've been enjoying lately as a premise is that Mobei-Jun is the sort of person who would have genuinely enjoyed "Proud Immortal Demon Way". But, like, in a weird way. Like, maybe Mobei-Jun isn't there for the women or the power fantasy, but he's fascinated by the cage of dissatisfaction, misery, and cruelty that the protagonist is building around himself using empty pleasures and merciless vengeance. Mobei-Jun is there for the tragedy. Everyone else in the comments section would think that he's a weirdo for different reasons, including Airplane Bro, but Mobei-Jun is (by accident) operating on a level where he sees the vision.

Alternate direction on "Mobei-Jun would like PIDW, actually": maybe he would like it because he actually loves trashy drama and stupid catfights. He's there for the comedy. He grew up in an environment where his father stole his uncle's wife and his own uncle tried to kill him multiple times, after all. In PIDW itself, right-hand man Mobei-Jun somehow successfully suffered years upon years of Luo Binghe's harem nonsense, and maybe Mobei-Jun was having the time of his life watching Sha Hualing start shit in the harem, actually!

Maybe in a Modern AU, Airplane Bro would try to sound intelligent and cultured by talking to his rich boss / boyfriend about classy literature, only to find out that Mobei-Jun basically only watches reality television competitions where people are constantly trying to tear each other's hair out for money. If people aren't screaming in each other's faces over a spilled glass of wine, throwing plates at each other over a stolen boyfriend or a ruined wedding, or backstabbing each other via wardrobe sabotage to get ahead, then Mobei-Jun is bored. Fighting matches or extremely dangerous sports are also fine, though, sure. (Airplane Bro doesn't like any of this stuff. He's a fantasy novel guy. He has no idea how to react to this.)

Another funny direction for "Mobei-Jun's relationship to media" is that maybe "Proud Immortal Demon Way" wouldn't actually be weird ENOUGH for Mobei-Jun's tastes. Maybe Mobei-Jun would be like that guy who claims "if I can guess the twist, then it's not suspense - suspense is when I don't know what's going to happen next, period" and reads long-running, amateur, foreign, abstract web-novels that he has to put through an online translator himself. Maybe in a Modern AU with this opinion, Mobei-Jun loyally watches telenovelas and Bollywood soap operas. Airplane Bro comes into the room and says, "Wow, not even any subtitles? You can understand what they're saying?" and Mobei-Jun says sincerely, "No. You have to figure out what's happening without them. This is the intended viewing experience."

#tossawary svsss #mobei jun #shang qinghua #moshang #fic ideas

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felixdragonheartofficial · 4 months

Text

TFA TEAM PRIME HUMAN REDESIGNS FINALLY

FUCK

+headcannons

Optimus: gotta stay focused

looks too old compared to his bot form.

I find it impossible for Optimus to be more than a million years old in this canon. In the least, he's older than 1000 years and since we have mfs that are canonically over 70 million years old(fagatron iykyk) compared to that, he feels like a dude in his early-to-mid-30's being the group parent.

---

-I made him more youthful, gave him curly hair, and tailored his clothing to actually look like his bot form.

-workaholic

-on the cusp of barley being able to hold his liquor

-doesn't own a pair of pajamas until Sari gets some for him

-usually forgets to put them on, but appreciates the gesture

-stays active for like, 3 days until he can't fight off sleep with work brain anymore, and unceremoniously passes out on the couch to sleep for a full 24 hours

-ratchet sighs and puts a blanket over him as per routine

-frequently checks security feed

-elf on the shelf despiser

-early morning talks with jazz and ratchet over coffee (they all wake up at 6 am)

-half thrives on caffeine and a vigorous training protocol

-is a dog person, loves German shepherds to death

David sama, pls forgive me ily very much

Ratchet: to old for this nonsense

doesn't match his body type in the slightest.

Ratchet is really old, he's got a sallow face and a gramp gut, how dare they square him. He's wayyy too angular and peachy looking.

-I gave him his luscious curves back, adding all the equipment id expect a field medic to have because he is a field medic, not a regular doctor. I changed his facial proportions, and also made his face gaunt, for that dead inside PTSD look.

---

-drinks his coffee black with brown sugar, literally drinks it piping hot

-is one of those old people who complains about noise

-confiscates bumblebee and Sari's toy cars, and puts them in a high up cabinet

-neither of them know how to bypass the child safety lock lmao

-casual clothes includes a lot- a l o t of plaid shirts, and 10 pairs of the same blue jeans

-tunes out bulkhead and prowls convos about birdwatching

-big fan of political satire dramas

-Sentinel doesn't approve

-Ratchet doesn't give a rats ass about what he thinks of course

Bumblebee: professional smart-ass

doesn't match his body type/age.

Bumblebees holoform is presented as a 10-12 year old child specifically for the fact that he's short, and the comedic relief. Total ass

I set his human age as 19-20 years old, making him more of a big brother to sari because that og model is disappointingly lackluster

---

-Bumblebee is a scrappy wisecracking punk, like an adhd kid who just got roller skates for Christmas.

-since he doesn't have wheels, I feel like he'd wear skates instead to emulate the feeling

-terrible at watching where he's going cuz he's too busy trying to show off, so ratchet makes him wear all that padding + training wheels

-legit despises the padding and training wheels

-Jealous of Blurr for mastering roller blades lmao.

-his favorite games are choose your fighter and fps

-saw ONE ancient ass assassins creed playthrough and begged ratchet to install hidden tasers in his arm bands (was denied)

-Sari used her key to do it instead

-self appointed "rizzler"

-Optimus has zero idea of what that means and thinks it's code for something dubious

-Ratchet knows what it means and thinks it's silly

-"I' was something of a rizzler myself back in my day, kid"

-bumblebee cringes

-loves summer and swimming

-wants to be the fastest thing in the sea because y'know, it's bumblebee

-is spooked from the beach for awhile cuz he saw sharks in Prowls nature documentary

-there are infact, no sharks in lake Erie

Bulkhead: big guy, bigger heart

doesn't match his body type/aspirations.

Jesus fuck he's so wide?? And his belly migrated to his shoulders?? I'm gonna be honest, I really hate this design. I feel like it contributed to the "brute strength = stupid" take that most in the fandom associates with him.

---

-Bulkhead is a SWEET. CARING. NERD YOU FOOLS. He's like the male version of a tall goth gf-

-a tall-nerdy-farm hand-physics bf, You got me fucked up.

-Its already shown that bulkhead really likes art in Addition to creating it. He hates being only seen as the "muscle" so it wouldn't make sense for him to lean into that.

-bunny slippers that him and sari made together(she provided the buttons)

-the slippers go missing sometimes (basically considered community property unless he's wearing them)

(ratchet and prowl are the main offenders)

-frequent art museum goer

-really likes watching cooking shows, but is too shy to make food himself

-Owns a ton of star maps

-Really wants a treehouse that he, bumblebee and sari can hang out in

-pillowfort enjoyer

-casually reads quantum physics at the beach

Prowl: draft dodger

Doesn't look like him at all.

Prowls holoform being a mustachioed,white, police officer was an actual jumpscare for 7 y/o me, I kid you not

---

- I know this bitch would not wear a helmet (you can't force him to) que windswept hair

-Not as much as starscreams, for obvious reasons but yk

-prowl is like one of those "shoes are a prison for your feet"

-emo hipster

-has a pet cactus named "planty"

-bumblebee heckles him for it

-can and has brought his cactus with him on early evening motorcycle rides

-the helmet is reserved for his cactus, bring your own >:(

-salad consumer

-him and jazz share custody of the cactus

-repeat victim of the cat distribution system

-ratchet has probably spent hours telling him they can't keep any animals at base

-frequent midnight picnics with jazz

-and beachcombing

-and roaming around antique stores cuz jazz wants to know what vinyl records are

-got a mug with an attempted pink chibi cat with big round shiny eyes painted onto it, courtesy of bulkhead trying to find an artsyle

-cherishes this mug to death

-has a shrine dedicated to it

#tfa #decepticons #autobots #tfa headcanons #tfa optimus prime #tfa bulkhead #tfa bumblebee #tfa ratchet #tfa prowl #AUUUUUUGH #im gonna have a pole #optimus prime #bumblebee #bulkhead #prowl #ratchet #tfa sari #sari sumdac #sari mention

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ladyfocalors · 6 months

Text

How To Confess To The Hydro Archon

Pairing: Furina x gn!reader

Note: two dense idiots in love, mention of reader being referred to as 'lady' once, ooc, not proofread

Word Count: 3.6k

It wasn’t a well kept secret that you had a crush on Furina. Everyone and their grandma knew about it, well, everyone except for Furina herself. It was surprising that she didn’t catch the wind of the gossip of you liking her, I mean it was momentarily the main drama in the Court of Fontaine and Furina always knew all the gossip. Or maybe she did know and decided to not speak of it. Maybe she didn’t like you back? Maybe she thought of it as just some rumours and brushed it aside? Or she hated you? Okay, maybe the last one was a bit far-fetched. Anyways, these were at best, just speculations. No concrete evidence if she liked you or not.

You never were the one to flaunt or be that open about your more-than-friendly feelings on Furina but you weren’t in denial of these emotions, instead you have long acknowledged them and accepted it. So, the only thing left now was to tell her and maybe (hopefully) she accepted them. Yeah, shouldn’t be too difficult right?

Wrong!

Every time you tried to build up the courage to tell her, you would back down with the excuse of ‘I am fine with what I have with her now’ which promptly earned a well earned sharp flick on the forehead by Charlotte.

“How can you be so dense? It’s painful to watch you both, just confess and get together already!” She exclaimed, her hands on her hips as she held a very disappointed look. “And when you do get together, do tell me first, okay?”

“Is this one of your schemes for collecting headlines for The Steambird?” you sighed, rubbing your forehead to ease the pain.

“Hey! That’s not- okay, maybe, yes. But I also want you to be happy! It’s stupid to see you mope around like this. I see no reason on why you aren’t confessing,” she admitted. You scoffed at her words. You were absolutely not moping! And there was absolutely a reason to not confess… you suppose (?).

“Well, why would I confess?” You started out, wracking your brain to form an excuse. “When I am about to hit two year anniversary of me having feelings for her. Let me reach my two year-”

Flick!

“Hey, what has my forehead done to offend you today?!” you exclaimed, shielding your forehead from future attacks.

Charlotte crossed her arms and glared at you, her forehead creased. “That is so preposterous! If you continue to spew more nonsense I will not stop flicking your forehead,” she said.

You sighed for the hundredth time. You didn’t see the big issue on why confessing now was very important, you could always wait to do that later. But you suppose coming clean would be better, you could get over with it and no longer have to endure the forehead flicks of Charlotte (and the weight of your feelings).

“Fine.” you said after a long pause. “But I have no idea on how to win over her. She is an Archon!”

“That’s easy. You just have to be yourself,” she replied but the blank look on your face tells her enough on what you were going to say. “Or maybe look through some books. I am sure there is a book on how to woo someone, right?”

You hummed and stood up, “I suppose so.”

“Well, that’s settled,” she clasps her hands together. “I will be leaving now, I have to proofread some articles. Good luck.!

With that she disappears, leaving you to your thoughts in your room. You didn’t need to read more books to know the steps taken to steal someone’s heart, you have already read one and came to the conclusion that it won’t work. How? Because you just knew. I mean, ‘ask your crush out on a date with a bouquet’ was absolutely a lame and boring way to pursue someone. You needed something fit for an Archon. Not some flowers that would wilt within days.

So, with a pen and paper in hand, you decided to write your own guide to win Furina’s heart.

HOW TO WOO THE HYDRO ARCHON: A GUIDE by me for me :)

1. They say the way to a person’s heart is though their stomach = give her food what a weird saying

This one should be easy. You were already well acquainted with Furina's preferences, but this endeavor was more than just satisfying her tastes. Rather than a simple trip to the bakery for her favorite pastries, you decided for a more personal approach. You decided to make one of her beloved desserts from scratch, a gesture that you were sure would speak volumes about your sentiments, hopefully.

Fortunately for you, you knew how to bake. So, the following morning, on your day off, you dedicated all your time on carefully preparing the cake with the utmost dedication. After hours of work, you perfected everything. Securely packing it, you soon left on your merry way towards the court. Soon enough, you found yourself knocking on the door to Furina’s office.

“Furina?” You slowly peeked in to find the office empty. You silently stepped in, surveying the surroundings to see if she was actually inside or not. After a quick look, you let out a disappointed sigh. You suppose you had to leave her food on the desk now.

Unexpectedly, a voice broke the silence, making you almost jump out of your skin. “Oh, [Y/n]! What a delightful surprise! Oops, did I startle you?”

“Oh, Furina,” you responded nervously, recovering from the sudden scare. “It’s fine. I am fine.”

“That’s good to know,” she smiled but her expression quickly turned into a pout. “Why didn’t you visit me yesterday? Have you been avoiding me?”

“What?” you stammered in surprise. “Of course not! Why would I avoid you?! That is absurd. The only reason I didn’t visit was because you had to attend a trial and I didn’t wish to disturb you.”

Furina hummed, seemingly satisfied with your response. “Well I am glad you are here.” she sighed. “Mademoiselle Crabaletta has been muttering about getting in shape lately, and even said that she wanted to drag me along with her. I'm already eating much healthier than last month. I work very hard to maintain my figure.”

At her words you try to hide the food behind you. As much as you wanted her to eat your handmade delicacies, you didn’t wanted to ruin her diet.

“Hey, you can tell, can't you!?” she asked, noticing your sudden silence.

“Oh, yes, of course I can see that. You look amazing, you always did,” you mumbled out the last part.

You had to admit, you were feeling a bit awkward. Maybe because your current goal was to pursue her and not just have idle fun and chatter. It didn’t feel so casual anymore. For some reason, you were nervous. You had made food for her before but now it felt as if you have messed up something up. You wished this sudden feelings of anxiety would vanish as easily as it had appeared.

“Are you feeling unwell?” Furina inquired suddenly, rising from her seat to place her gloved hand on your forehead, and withdrawing swiftly out of embarrassment at her mistake.

“Oh, no I am quite fine. Thank you for asking,” you muttered, embarrassment enveloping you. In your absent-minded actions you placed the package right in front of her, on her desk.

“Oh, what’s this?” she asked curiously.

“Um, just some cake I made for you but I didn’t know you were on a diet,” you replied bashfully.

“Diet? Hmph, I follow no diet. Besides, there is always room for more desserts,” she declared, snatching away the packet and unpacking it. “My favourite dessert! How wonderful!”

You couldn’t help but smile at her joy of being presented with food. Well, you were glad your gesture seemed to be well-received.

“Oh? What a rich and delicate texture!” she praised. “You should certainly become a baker, your bakery would be very successful.”

You simply laughed at her words, enjoying the praise. She then offered you some as well, under the guise of having too much of food.

“You don’t expect me to eat all of this on my own, do you?” she said, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “Open wide now, we both will enjoy this cake together.”

“Alright,” you obliged bashfully at her invitation. You just hoped she couldn’t pick up on your flustered demeanor. I mean, eating from the same spoon your crush used and that too getting fed by them would absolutely send someone spiraling.

“See, sharing is caring. Especially something this sweet,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes.

Maybe I should bake for her everyday if this is the outcome, you mused.

It was safe to say that this was…

Mission: SUCCESSFUL!!

2. Buy her gifts, shower her with compliments. only works if the person likes receiving gifts and praise

This was yet another one of the easy and straightforward tasks, especially considering her birthday was just a week away, which also proved to be a perfect excuse to shower her with love gifts.

Before venturing out to shop in this beautiful and pleasant weather, a prior arrangement needed to be made with Neuvillette to extend an offer for him to join you. Despite his demanding role as the Chief Justice of Fontaine, extending the invitation seemed appropriate, considering your friendly relationship. Neuvillette was also a very close friend of Furina.

"Good morning, Monsieur Neuvillette," you called out to the man engrossed in his thoughts while gazing at the Fountain of Lucine.

"Good morning, Lady [Y/n]," he greeted in return.

“No need for the formalities, Monsieur,” you insisted. “If you are available, would you care to accompany me for some shopping? Furina's birthday is in a week, and I wish to select gifts for her."

After a moment's pause, he agreed, "I suppose I can accompany you. However, is there a particular reason you wish for my company? I hardly consider myself an ideal shopping companion."

Your thoughts paused for a second. How quick of him to doubt your need for his presence, but rightfully so since you did have a motive.

"Well, it appears you've caught me," you admitted. "Furina spends considerable time with you, and I was hoping you could offer insights into her current preferences, helping me choose the perfect gift."

"While I believe you know Lady Furina better than anyone, but I'll do my best to provide you with useful information," he replied.

So serious, you thought.

Soon the sky was high up in the sky and your shopping expedition came to an end. It was a pleasant experience, conversation flowed smoothly between you two. You both decided to bid each other farewell in the place you met, near the Fountain of Lucine.

“[Y/n]!” A sudden interruption caught both your and Neuvillette’s attention. Furina waved from the distance but her excitement dwindled seeing Neuvillette next to you. The man next to you sighed but you didn’t understand what was going on.

“Why are you with him?” she asked you. “Have you been avoiding me?”

“What?! No, I am not. I promise,” you said. “I just went shopping with him.”

Furina's eyes flickered between the two of you, skeptical of your words and it was evident in her expression but she tried to act it off. "Shopping? Together? Without me?" Despite her effort, her tone betrayed a hint of jealousy.

You, still somewhat oblivious to the underlying tension, tried to diffuse the situation. "Furina, it's not what you think. Neuvillette and I were just—"

Furina opened her mouth but Neuvillette sighed, finally expressing his weariness. "Lady Furina, there's no conspiracy here. I'm not interested in pursuing any romantic involvement with [Y/n], and I believe you're misunderstanding the situation."

Furina's expression shifted to a mix of surprise and embarrassment. "Wait, what? Romantic involvement? I didn't mean that! Are you implying I am jealous Neuvillette?! Ugh, I just thought... Never mind." She crossed her arms, suddenly feeling self-conscious when you kept staring at her.

"I simply accompanied [Y/n] as a friend. I have no interest in interfering with your plans," Neuvillette replied coolly.

Furina was utterly embarrassed, tried to play it off and glared at Neuvillette who didn’t seem to care. What was his deal? Was he trying to embarrass her? She frowned at her thoughts.

"Well, it feels like you've been ignoring me all day," Furina remarked, her arms crossed.

“I wasn’t, I promise. I was buying gifts for you,” you explained. In the mention of gifts she faltered a little.

Furina, tried to act miffed yet softened slightly at your words. "Well, I demand you spend some time with me now. You are not mad at me for the misunderstanding, right? Even the best of the best sometimes makes some mistakes."

Neuvillette looked at you both skeptically. It was very clear that you liked each other, so how come both of you were so dense to not even see it. Well, he would never understand you two, it was best he left so he didn’t feel as if he was intruding something.

You on the other hand started to doubt everything, a horrible thought forming in your head.

Mission: On hold! Furina foiled the surprise and looked through the gifts. important note: Furina probably likes Neuvillette because she was jealous of me spending time with him earlier (T_T)

3. Help her with her work or chores. Show her you are reliable and helpful. Stop stressing out and just confess.

Was this even worth it? She probably didn’t even like you back. She was an Archon, a divine being with barely any flaws and you were just a mere mortal— another admirer among many. Yes, you may have been special among normal people because you were also a friend to her but it would never be more than that. You should have been satisfied with what you already had with her.

It was more believable that she liked Neuvillette and not you. It would explain why Neuvillette was throwing glances at her that day and Furina was upset.

“You are overthinking again,” Charlotte said from the other side of the room. She has been swarmed by work and managed to squeeze out some time today to spend it with you. Right in time to catch you wallowing.

“I am not overthinking,” you grumbled. “I am being perfectly reasonable here. My observations make perfect sense.”

“You seriously have an issue of being very dense,” she mumbled sipping her tea slowly and looking through your ‘How to Woo the Hydro Archon: A Guide’. “Both you and Lady Furina are the same. She may be our Archon but she is an idiot, both of you are.”

“Okay, I get it I am an idiot,” you groaned, sinking in to the cushions.

“Well, all the best. Don’t forget to tell me how everything goes by,” she said placing the cup away and picking up her kamera.

————————————

The next morning you woke up with a pounding headache and a sore throat. You got up from the bed with a lot of difficulty and washed your face. All these were clear signs of sickness but you ignored it. The day after tomorrow was Furina’s birthday and you couldn’t afford to be in bed and be sick. You should go help her so she has a free day tomorrow.

Ignoring your fatigue, you go on your way to see Furina. You had perfectly crafted your words, and have rehearsed it many times to not falter in front of her.

You stood in front of the door to her office, staring at the design and trying to calm your beating heart. You were hesitant to knock.

Maybe I should come another day, possibly after her birthday. Yeah, that would be far better than today. The timing isn’t right eith—

“Why aren't you coming in?” Furina asked as she swung open the door, causing you to jump and stumble back a little. What is with her and scaring me lately?

“Good Morning, Furina!” you fumbled and hastily entered her office.

“Good Morning,” she replied.

Something was odd. She was usually very lively and talkative. She was being awfully quiet and reserved. Did she have a breakdown?

Only one way to find out.

“Are you okay?” you asked her softly. You knew of her breakdowns, you had accidentally walked in on her crying before. She didn’t exactly tell you why she was crying and you didn’t pry either.

“Of course, I am fine. I am bored. Mademoiselle Crabaletta refused to have a tea party with me today, she is still muttering about getting in shape. Hmph, I am already in perfect shape,” she complained.

You could sense she was lying — her elevated voice and avoidance of eye contact gave it away. However, you paid it no mind.

“Are you alright? You look very pale. Did you even sleep?” Furina asked.

“Uh, yeah. I am fine, just- yeah. I came here to tell you something,” you mumbled.

Furina looked at you with interest. You felt very small under her gaze and you wished the ground would swallow you whole.

Well, there is no going back now.

The pounding in your head increase as you squeezed your eyes shut and stammered out your confession. “I like you! I think you are very pretty! I mean, you are pretty. I like you more than a friend- not, not like a friend! I have had a crush on you for some time now! You don’t have to like me back, although I would like it if you did! You have pretty eyes!”

You breathed heavily after the confession, your vision swimming and your head feeling heavy. You went off script, all your rehearsal was useless and you messed it up.

Silence.

Furina remained silence and dread consumes you. Silence only meant one thing and you wanted to just disappear from existence, from that room. Maybe travel back to time and stop yourself from doing this. You should’ve waited.

My head hurts, you stumbled, your eyes watery, but you didn't know if it was because of Furina's silence or your increasing fatigue. Before you knew it, you had closed your eyes.

————————————

Am I dead?

That was the first question that popped into your head when you woke up sweating and with a cloth on your head. The room was covered in darkness due to the drawn curtains but you could tell it was still daytime.

Looks like I am still alive.

You got up from your bed, removing the sheets. You slowly walked into your living to find Furina.

On your couch.

Reading something.

Death sounds wonderful right about now, you thought as the realization dawned on you. She was reading that dumb guide you made, which didn’t even work.

“Uh- Furina!” You stammered. “What are you reading? You don’t have to read that?!”

You tried to snatch it away but she was quicker.

“A guide to woo the Hydro Archon? I am truly blessed you think of me so highly,” she laughed, folding the paper and keeping it away from you. “You should certainly write a book and publish it.”

“Hey, don’t tease me!” you crossed your arms and sat down on the couch with a grumble.

An awkward silence followed. Well, you felt awkward, you didn’t know what she felt.

“It’s atrocious,” Furina began, taking your hand and placing the folded page on your palm. "It's ridiculously foolish of you to assume I like Neuvillette when you're right next to me."

“I- so you like me? Like, actually?” you asked.

“Are you questioning my judgement? You think the God of Justice would lie to you?” she responded, sitting next to you.

“No, she wouldn’t. But,” you paused, a small smile playing on your lips. “I would trust her judgement better if she made her feelings clear. Maybe with a kiss?”

“Stop teasing me!” she suddenly yelped, jumping away from you.

“I am sorry, I am sorry,” you laughed at her red face. “I don’t know what came over me to say that. Probably the sickness, but I meant every word-.”

“Shut up, you should be in bed!” she exclaimed, cutting you off. Her face resembled a tomato and you enjoyed it. You weren’t outrightly a flirtatious person so this behaviour was definitely fueled by your sickness but it also didn’t mean that you were lying about wanting to kiss her.

You were in a delirious state? …maybe.

“I don’t think I will be quiet until you make me. I should’ve known you were jealous of Neuvillette spending time with me, not the other way around. That is honestly- mmph!!”

Your words are cut off and muffled as Furina’s lips were placed on yours. Frozen in shock, you stood there for a few seconds, with your heartbeat thundering in your ears. You could probably pass out by the amount of blood that rushes to your face, making you feel hot.

Furina thought you looked adorable, but she couldn’t tolerate you calling her out as someone easily jealous. No, she needs to protect her reputation by shutting you up (she is making excuses, she just wanted to kiss you). So she kisses you. She finds this method to be quite effective and maybe she would use it more in the future.

Breaking the kiss, she was met with your dazed expression. You stood there for a few seconds, making her worried at your lack of response.

“That was my first kiss!” you gasped, breaking out of your trance.

“You weren’t shutting up! You were teasing me!” Furina retorted.

“Then I will keep talking if it means you will kiss me.” you laugh.

“[Y/n]!”

You laughed at her expression, happy and a lot better already. Maybe you could use excuses like kisses being cure to sickness. Yeah, you definitely could.

Mission: Successful!! I won at life!

©️ ladyfocalors

#fontaine #furina x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #furina #hydro archon #genshin impact x reader #neuvillette #charlotte #𐙚 : genshin girls

183 notes · View notes

idlerin · 8 months

Text

nonsense — 35. hate clingy men

masterlist — previous | next

✦ fun facts !

oikawa followed you to the grocery with his stupid disguise again. you were annoyed but not for too long.

oikawa forgot he wanted [name] to like the twt post.

[name] is gradually allowing herself to be more sweet and express more of her love and care again.

nonsense ! an oikawa tooru social media au

synopsis. you were oikawa tooru’s #1 fan, until you became his #1 hater. you hated him so much you went viral on twitter (accidentally) and literally became known as “the oikawa tooru hater”, doesn’t help that he keeps fueling the fire by subtweeting you. everyone is all in for this new drama. what isn’t known to the public, is that this particular drama’s been on hold for three years (him being your ex and all).

a/n — fINALLYY HAD TIME OMFG anw enjoy oikawa just being a mood. i luv clingy guys moderately as long as they know their boundaries HAHAUAHAHABDB feeding u guys more fluff befor— JKJK (am i?)

taglist is closed ! + (1/2) @kawaii-angelanne @ceneridiankaa @kittycasie @rukia-uchiha-98 @polish-cereal @kellesvt @rockleeisbaeeee @kashxyou @imsoluvly @jjulliette @tooruchiiscribs @littlefreakjulia @gomjohs @qualitygiantshoepsychic @mellowknightcolorfarm @konzumeken @migosple @kuroogguk @sangwooooo @katsu-shi @wolffmaiden @rijhi @2baddies-1porsche @yeehawcity @aishkaaa @crueldinasty @renardiererin @yyuiz @llamakenma @penguinlovestowrite @princelingperfect @hearts4faey @yoonabeo @pantherhappy @julia-1901 @godsbiggestmenace @angel-luv-04 @noideawhothatis @bethbat @natsvmie @luna-mothii @lylovw @apinu @leave-rae-alone @kamikokii @bananasquash @eitaababe @minimari415 @hanabihwa @nilopillo

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glittervame · 16 days

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They both die in the end.

Mattheo x Y/n (Reader)

This is the most random shit I've come up with so far.

As Y/n and Mattheo rehearsed their lines for the school play, the air was thick with anticipation and a tinge of nervousness. They played the iconic roles of Romeo and Juliet, their performances intertwined not only onstage but also in their daily lives. Being in different Houses only seemed to heighten the drama as they navigated the treacherous waters of young love amidst the ever-present rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor.

The rehearsal hall was abuzz with activity as other students from their Houses watched them from afar, their expressions a mix of awe, envy, and trepidation. It was clear that their relationship was anything but ordinary, and everyone wanted to see how it would unfold. Even though they were both talented actors, the chemistry between them was undeniable, and it seemed that every glance, every touch, every word was charged with an electricity that was palpable to everyone around them.

As they practiced the balcony scene, Y/n felt her heart race as she looked into Mattheo's emerald eyes. She could feel the butterflies in her stomach flutter wildly, and it was all she could do not to lose herself in the moment. He leaned in closer, his voice a husky whisper as he spoke the words that had been etched into their memories for months now: "But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun."

Mattheo's voice sent shivers down her spine, and she couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to truly be with him, to share the passion and the pain that their characters experienced.

As the rehearsal came to an end, they parted ways, promising to meet up later to discuss their scenes. But even as they walked away from each other, they couldn't shake the feeling that they were playing out a much larger role in their lives than just a school play. They were Romeo and Juliet, Slytherin and Gryffindor, and somehow, they had to find a way to make it work despite the odds stacked against them.

"So, You and Mattheo…" Aliza, Y/n's friend, broke their quiet study session that was happening in the library. Y/n's quill broke, and ink splattered all over her position's homework, "Me and him what?" She asks hesitantly.

Aliza grins pushes her notes and book out of the way turning to the girl in front of her, "You both look cozied up to each other during rehearsal," She wiggles her eyebrows. Y/n's noes scrunched up and she gives a dry heave, "Please that Slytherin is nothing but trouble." "You guys are just like Romeo and Juliet," The raven-haired girl giggles and clap her hands together, "From different sides forced apart by society, lovers in the end" she sighs wistfully looking out into the distant.

Y/n whacks her head with a scroll of paper, "Keep dreaming, he's so not my type and gods forbid if we actually end up 'in love' do remember how Romeo and Juliet's story ends?" her friend just looks at her blankly. Y/n deadpans, "They both die in the end, that's why communication is key, miss-communication leads to death," She hums.

"Well, maybe they'll be like that other couple, you know, the one that survives?" Aliza grins and leans closer, her voice dropping to a whisper, "Harry and Ginny. Those two were made for each other, even though they came from different sides of the tracks. Maybe if you and Mattheo just give it a chance…"

Y/n rolls her eyes and shoves Aliza's shoulder, "Don't start with that 'star-crossed lovers' nonsense. We're in different Houses for a reason, and I'm not about to risk everything just for some stupid school play." She stands up, brushing herself off and heads towards the exit, "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some studying to do." Aliza watches her friend leave with a small smile playing on her lips.

Outside, the wind picks up, carrying with it the faint scent of autumn. Y/n sighs, trying to shake off the strange feeling in her chest. She can't deny that there's something special between her and Mattheo, something that goes beyond their characters in the play. But the thought of actually being with him, in real life, outside of the confines of their Houses and the school grounds… it's terrifying.

She knows that if they were to try, they would have to be incredibly careful. Not only would they be defying the odds, but they'd also be risking everything they've worked so hard for. As much as she wants to believe in a happily ever after, she can't help but feel that this is one story where fate has already written the ending.

She shakes her head getting the those thoughts out of it. It's just a school play, after all. They'll finish the play, put on a great performance, and then go back to their separate lives. That's how it's supposed to be. Isn't it?

The next play practice Y/n couldn't help but pay more attention this time. The butterflies in her stomach were back, and she found herself blushing whenever Mattheo looked at her. Y/n finished her musical number of her, Juliet, admitting her love for Romeo. Her heart was racing as she walked off stage.

Mattheo was waiting for her backstage, his eyes searching for hers. "That was amazing, Y/n," he breathed. "You truly are the best Juliet I've ever seen." She couldn't help but feel a blush spread across her cheeks. "Thank you, Mattheo." There was an awkward silence that hung between them. She couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking, if he felt the same way she did.

Finally, he broke the silence. "You know… we could make this work, you and I." Y/n's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "I mean, we could be together. Even after the play is over. We could find a way." Y/n's eyes widened. "But… our Houses…" He shook his head. "That doesn't have to matter. We could make it work, if we really wanted to." His words echoed in her ears, and for a moment, she could almost imagine it.

She looked into his eyes, and in that moment, she knew that she wanted it to be true. More than anything else. But the fear was still there, lurking in the back of her mind. What would happen if they tried and failed? What if they were discovered? The risks were high, but so was the reward.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart. "Let's see what happens after the play, okay?" She said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. Mattheo nodded, his expression hopeful. "Okay," he agreed. "Okay."

They finished the rest of the practice in a bit of a daze, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Afterward, they parted ways, promising to meet up later to discuss their scenes. But even as they walked away from each other, they couldn't shake the feeling that they were playing out a much larger role in their lives than just a school play. They were Romeo and Juliet, Slytherin and Gryffindor, and somehow, they had to find a way to make it work despite the odds stacked against them.

The night of the play finally arrived, and Y/n found herself pacing backstage, her heart pounding with nervous anticipation. Mattheo appeared beside her, handing her a bouquet of roses. "For the best Juliet I've ever known," he said with a smile. She felt her heart melt a little at his words, and she couldn't help but smile back.

The audience filed into the Great Hall, and Y/n's stomach did a flip-flop as she heard their applause. It was time. She took a deep breath and stepped out onto the stage, her eyes meeting Mattheo's for a brief moment before she turned to face the crowd. The play went by in a blur of lines and movements, and she couldn't help but feel that she was sharing not just a story, but a piece of herself with Mattheo.

Their scenes together were electric, their chemistry undeniable. They finished the play to thunderous applause, and as the curtain fell, Y/n felt a sense of euphoria wash over her. She turned to Mattheo, her heart racing as she realized that she wanted this, wanted them. "Well, that went better than expected," she said with a shaky laugh. "Don't you think?"

He smiled back at her, his eyes filled with warmth. "I think it went perfectly."And with that, they made their way off the stage, hand in hand. As they walked backstage, the other students and teachers congratulated them on their performance, but Y/n barely heard a word they said. All she could focus on was Mattheo, and the way he was looking at her.

"So," he began, leading her to a quiet corner of the room, "what do you say? Do you want to find out what happens after the play?"

Y/n swallowed hard, her heart in her throat. "I think… I think I do," she said finally. "But we have to be careful. We can't let anyone find out."

He nodded, his expression serious. "I know. We'll have to meet in secret, and be discreet. But I promise you, Y/n, it'll be worth it."

Her heart soared at his words, and before she knew it, she was leaning in, pressing her lips against his. It was a chaste kiss at first, but it quickly deepened, their tongues dancing together in a way that seemed to defy everything they had been taught about their Houses and their rivalry. When they finally pulled apart, they were both breathless, their cheeks flushed.

As long as they don't end up dead in the end.

#fypシ #y/n #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo x y/n #romeo #romeo and juliet #juliet

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neuroticbookworm · 4 months

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FRIENDS. FRIENDS.

Cooking Crush is undoubtedly one of the best shows airing at the moment.

Today's episode gave me so much life that I don't even know where to begin, but I'm gonna try my best to pull two (2) coherent thoughts out of my melting brain.

1. The Three Must-Eat-eers Conflict and Resolution:

Last episode had set up such a perfect conflict that's rarely handled well in any media: the bruised feelings of the single friend when the rest of the gang gets into committed romantic relationships. Most of the time this scenario shows up in media, one party will be framed as selfish and/or jealous. None of that nonsense here; Cooking Crush has always taken the friendship of its characters very seriously, especially Prem, Dynamite and Samsee. Samsee’s feelings were hurt not just because of his own fears of being abandoned by his friends, he was also (rightfully) mad that he ended up as the only friend who was kept out of the loop of knowing that his best friends had boyfriends now. But Prem and Dynamite did not intend to do this, and they were also right to set their own pace in making their relationship public, but it’s just that the string of accidental reveals happened in an order that made Samsee feel like a third-wheeler in his own home, twice over.

Cooking Crush treats its characters with a lot of kindness and empathy and it shows. Prem and Dy wanting to keep their relationships under wraps for the time being is valid. Samsee feeling hurt and lost, and opting out of the competition is valid. This episode begins with the drama of the cooking competition and works its comedy (thank you for the chuckles, wildly gesticulating White Man) and romance (my poor heart swooned all over my rib cage when Ten helped Prem into his chef clothes). And when the time came for the big reconciliation, the show does not sweep away Samee’s very hurt feelings just because Prem and Dy struggled without Samsee for most of the first round of cooking. He apologizes for ditching them and Dy was having none of it.

(Dy, my perfect child, oh how I love you with my entire heart)

Perfect resolution. and a well-earned, most adorable group hug to bookend it. I truly could not be more in love with this show. Or can I?

2. Miscommunication? Nah.

Well, this episode also featured the Annoying Asshole Chef dude who’s determined to pursue Prem even though it is very clear that Prem is not interested and would reject his advances, if only he stuck around long enough to actually get rejected and not run away from him like a goddamn coward. I was furious when he positioned himself as an actual option for Prem to Ten in this episode, and thoroughly enjoyed every moment Ten chose to call him out on his bullshit.

But y’all. The very inappropriate hug. The well-deserved punch to his stupid face. The storm-off. All of it had me very concerned that this is all barrelling towards a classic miscommunication moment.

BUT NO.

THE SHOW SAID THERE WILL BE NO STUPID MISCOMMUNICATION.

NOT IN THIS HOUSE.

My problem with the miscommunication trope is that it ultimately positions the couple we are supposed to be rooting for as a weak team. Honest communication and vulnerability in a new-ish relationship is not easy, and it takes a lot of courage to take that step to be the one to spell out the facts, and trust that the other person likes them well enough to keep an open ear, and believe them when they say a meddling cowardly asshole is trying to get in the way of their relationship. Ten’s bravery was perfectly contrasted with the sliminess of the Annoying Cowardly Chef (I refuse to learn his name, he is not worth my braincells).

Oh but Ten wasn’t done yet!

I absolutely adore how he moves the conversation away from that pesky little pest of a human towards something that matters more: his desire to make things official with Prem. The Annoying Asshole Chef was not the focus of the conversation, Ten and Prem are. And it all culminates in an incredible kiss and a camera swoop that already has a permanent little shrine in my silly little head.

TAKE MY HEART, COOKING CRUSH. TREAT IT WELL.

#cooking crush #tenprem #offgun #off jumpol #gun atthaphan #neo trai #aungpao ochiris #thai bl

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witchofthesouls · 18 days

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Hello, I don't usually ask questions on social networks, but I wanted to know what you think of a story where our human friend suffers an accident aboard the lost light in the Brainstrom laboratory and now the bots are able to see his thoughts. Bonus points if it's weird stuff (most of our minds are very weird), (sorry if something is poorly translated, I'm writing this with the translator) ^^)

One, I absolutely adore this concept.

Two, did you know there are people that think in pictures rather than use an internal voice?

And to top it off, people go around referencing pop culture, iconic scenes, memes, and their favorite media as well as the weird, intrusive thoughts and extreme, nonsensical daydreams...

I like to think there would be a media war between the Cybertronians that never went to Earth and only know beloved cartoons and shows and memes from the weird reenactment from the resident human's mind but with the Lost Light crew getting morphed into it versus the Cybertronians that actually had direct experience and personally downloaded those shows and movies.

As the "I Ship It" song goes, canon ground versus crack ship space.

Does anyone else remember those Naruto animation videos where the Akatsuki are drawn drunk or doing hilarious dances? The human looked up the Decepticon Justice Division, cross referenced on what they do, and immediately thought of a full sequence of the D.J.D. doing the Gang Torture Dance from Jojo's Bizarre Adventure.

The human thinks of sequences, including but not limited to:

Ultra Magnus as Steve Harvey from Family Feud with Rodimus with the "Nekkid Grandma!" bit

Rodimus doing "Goofy Goober Rock" because Roddy would love to be suspended in the air and dressed in wizard swag with a killer rip on a peanut-themed guitar. Drift has the legs to fulfill Patrick's fishnet-and-heels dance.

Megatron and Ratchet in The Office because he would stare deep into the camera at whatever new trouble has plagued the ship

Getaway and Rodimus doing the "Tony and Ezekiel" bit

So many fire-related memes: Elmo and the "This is fine." Dog.

The overlap of Rodimus in Gurren Lagen and Bang Brave Bang Bravern

The continuously weirder and weirder thoughts on how Cybertronian strip club would look like based on Futurama, Cyberpunk, and Night runner's Magnum Bullets. "Snu-snu" bit included. It's both highly ridiculous, strangely erotic, and absolutely terrifying at the same time to the Lost Light crew.

Whenever a mech does something stupid, the human immediately reimagines the mech in Wheel of Fortune fails, or a shoving potatoes in the exhaust

Nightbeat in a noir setting or as Sherlock Holmes

Rung is "Mister Cellophane" from Chicago

Assigned character theme songs

The last bullet causes so much drama because mechs want to have really cool or badass themes, but no! The human assigns them sex or porn songs like "Life is a Highway" and "Shut Up and Drive" and "Two Trucks," or something silly like "Barbie Girl" or the opening theme to Mega XLR or the sad song on the world's smallest violin to the poor bastard that gets stuck with the engex bill at the end of the night.

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pinkhoneydrop · 5 months

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Its a Game pt.6

[ A/n ] - Hey everyone here is part 6 i had to cut it a bit short so i could get to the good bits in part 7 that i am currently writing and i also started another multy part story that i think y'all will like!

[ Pairing ] - Harry Styles x Reader!, Dylan O'Brien x Reader!

[ Genre ] - angst

[ Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5 ]

[ Masterlist ]

Harry drove home from seeing you with a million thoughts swimming in his head. Why did he say he loved you? That was fucking stupid. I mean, it is true. He did love you but obviously it was the wrong time. Had he really taken so long to realize your intentions were greater than you let on? He really should have thought about that more. These sequences of events were a product of not needing to think when he was with you. Not seeing you for months then having an awkward encounter with you and then weeks later he pulls up to see you in a parking garage and says he loves you. I mean what the fuck. Who does that? Harry apparently does that now. Gone are his days of confident mystery. Perhaps he should learn to think when he’s near you. To be independent of you. Despite this, he’s regretting the timing of his impulses and now you know he loves you and you still will go home to another man. How was he supposed to process this and now having to see you at the festival? Rehearsal after rehearsal and then a whole weekend of you. Perfect you.

The thoughts consumed his mind the whole drive back to his LA home. The car pulled into his driveway, and he shut the door as he fished for the key to his house in his bag. The welcoming smells of laundry and cleaning products filled his nose with a scrunch. He needed to sort himself out. He used to come home to his NY apartment and smell you. Your vanilla and cinnamon scented perfume. Like cookies fresh out of the oven. Warm and truly inviting the opposite of the chemicals and detergent stinging his nose currently.

The days before the start of rehearsal seemed to drag on. Meeting after meeting and workout sessions in between for both harry and yourself. In total it had been about a week since you asked him to meet you at the garage. Dylan still didn’t know, and you still couldn’t get Harry’s declaration off your mind.

***

“And then he stood there with that fucking smirk of his and was like ‘I Lov youu’ I mean who says that after you just told them why you needed space in the first place.” You punctuated your sentence with a hard smack to a punching bag. You never would have caught yourself in the gym before all this Coachella nonsense. Yes, you were grateful blah blah blah, but this was some serious stuff. Asara joined you on occasion and this was one of those times. Blass your personal trainer he’s heard a ton of drama fall from your lips. Asara grinned and held back a laugh at your impression of the man. The two of you hit the bags in tandem as the conversation continued.

“I think he just misses you. You were on and off for so long you know.” Asara spoke between the sounds of fist hitting bags. You sighed and rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, he missed me while he was fucking another woman high off coke.” You punched the bag and Asara chuckled.

“Y/n he tried to tie you down several times, and I remember you always ran away every time he tried. Now, that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t have used his words, but the man did try. And don’t act like you don’t partake.” Asara stood off to the side as she finished her set.

“That’s not what I mean. He just gets carried away and I don’t mind taking care of him after he’s faded but it’s not healthy to do it that much. And as for trying to tie me down… I was completely loyal to him, and he knew that. I want to be shown off and he wants to be secretive and private.” You paused for a second to remove your boxing gloves. “We never saw eye to eye, but I love him too.”

“Right and now that you can both agree on something what are you going to do about Dylan?” Asara made a good point, and you weren’t sure how to break the news.

***

“Do you think I’m ready for this?” You looked up at Dylan with fear in your eyes. It was starkly different than any look he has seen on your face before. He always knew what to say but this time he just sort of looked at you. You looked to him for something. Anything would have been fine just anything to let you know that he could level with you in this moment. You were searching, reaching for anything in the deep recesses of his eyes and you couldn’t find anything.

His lips turned into a smile, and he pulled you in close. For Dylan in this moment, he was so proud of you that words weren’t enough. You allowed yourself to be pulled to the hug, but your arms stayed at your side. It was eerily frustrating for you. Being spoon fed the idea that he wanted to give you what you deserved, and you deserved more you needed more. You needed what Harry could give you. Out of the corner of your eye you could see him speaking with his production team and you glanced between the two men. When your eyes settled back on Dylan, you knew you needed him to leave. The two of you stood backstage at a mock rehearsal for the night you were to perform on stage at Coachella. Voices and the sounds of metal scraping against each other while the sun beat down on the field. Dylan decided to join you for moral support, but you felt so separated from him. It was like he did understand what you needed in that moment to help you feel better. You stared at the wall and your mind went blank. This had to stop.

Harry stood off to the side with his team. Each of them primping him and measuring fabric for the show. He did a good job at staying impartial when Dylan was around. For the few times they ended up in the same room or when he saw a photo of him on his Instagram feed because you posted him, or he just happened to be in the photo. You didn’t fully warm up to him just yet and Harry knew you didn’t forgive him yet. In his mind he decided he needed to be on his best behavior to win you back and gain your trust. Harry couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t snooping, he definitely was. And he could tell Dylan was doing a shit job at comforting you. The guy looked nervous enough for both of you.

“Um I gotta go Dylan.” You spoke softly and pulled away from him after he placed a kiss to the top of your head. You looked disappointed if harry could even say that. Dylan seemed to take the hint and disappeared off to sit with your friends. The dress rehearsal was dragging on for everyone so harry could imaging you felt stuck right now. Nervous and unsure who to talk to. Having a solution come to mind he made his way over to you. At first you didn’t notice. You were marking beats and paces in your head like he does, and it made him smile to think about you valuing his creative process.

Harry decided you needed space and he leaned onto his team as they finished the preparations. He would be back in two nights to perform, and you would be joining him on stage. His nerves caught up to him and he was glad you were off with your people so he couldn’t make a fool of himself again. You looked good though even in your comfortable clothes to practice. Your hips hit every marked beat and he almost got lost watching you.

The next day of rehearsal went by fast, and you were up late again practicing for the show. Beat after beat and step after step, you went over it in your head until it was time to gather backstage. You arrived at the venue the next day in a pink dress. A car service picked you up and your team met up with you. Flashes of light and screams cold been seen a mile away from the stage. Harry was prepped and ready to descend upon the crowd. You stood off to the side and took deep breaths. Harry saw you from the corner of his eye and looked over. You looked so scared. So different from how he was used to seeing you. You looked so vulnerable.

“You’re going to be great darling.” His voice carried a low register that caught your attention through your in-ears. He had walked over to comfort you. The glitter on his outfit fell to the ground like snowflakes and you stared at the glistening specks. For some reason, the closer he got to you the slower your heart began to beat.

“Give me your hands.” His voice was firm but soft as to not call attention to you. You listen despite all that has happened and how much you wanted to walk away and be alone. Your hands fit into his so perfectly. Harry held onto you gently and rubbed his thumbs onto your palms. Your breathing was shallow, but you stayed in that spot not daring move your sight from the floor.

“Look at me darling.” That pet name would haunt you if this ended up anymore tragically. Harry caught your eye, and you stared right back at him. His eyes didn’t give anything away that he didn’t want them to, and you just stood there looking into his eyes for a few minutes. You wanted to cry. Dylan could have never comforted you like this. All these months and weeks replayed over and over in your mind as you held hands with Harry.

“Just look for me if you feel nervous out there, okay? Focus on me.” Harry let go of your hands and walked up the stairs. You closed your eyes, and you could hear the excitement in the crowd build. The screams got louder and louder as the music began to play and he walked out. Secretly your heart was doing flips. Warmth flushed your face, and you gave Harry a small smile. He brushed his thumb against your face and turned to walk on stage. You stood back and looked at the crowd as he started to perform. The opening notes of adore you began to play, and the audience went crazy.

Three songs and then you heard your cue. Walking closer and closer to the stage you heard your song begin to play through the speakers and the beat matched up with your heart.

Liked by harryswife33…and 3849 others

y/nandharryshipper1 y/nrry for lifeeeeee

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Harryfan54 stop they are for sure meant to be together.

Y/nnnfan22 y’all acting like she isn’t in a relationship rn

Reply to Y/nnnfan22 y/nrryshipper9 right lol its weird even for me. Like I get it but harry is definitely in over his head with this one.

Liked by assa22, harrystyles and 93820 others

Yyy/nn3 baby’s first Coachella tyyy @\harrystyleshq for inviting meee

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Y/nnnfann0 bae looking so fucking good

Harrystyleshq loved having you

Harryfan96 Harry gets to have that any time he wants and I’m jealous

You put your phone down after looking back at the post. A notification flashed at the top that Dylan had posted and for some reason you wanted to keep him out of your mind. Now Harry isn’t stupid, and he especially isn’t stupid when he’s sober. He saw how fast you ignored the notification. He didn’t quite see who it was from when you put your phone down so fast, but he guessed it was from Dylan. He would be lying if he said it didn’t amuse him but the idea that you still gave an ounce of energy to that man made him feel detached from reality. The room was cold like he asked for it to be, but his neck felt hot. The veins in his arms bulged for a second and then before he could succumb to the jealousy you started speaking.

“Thank you.” You sounded so meek and shy. Fixing yourself like a teenager on a first date. Is this what he’s done to you? His darling used to be a spitfire. Real sassy and sickeningly sweet with her attitude. “Thank you.” If this were almost a year ago, he would have you pinned to a wall already. Fuck your “thank you” He needed that feeling back in full force. This simmering tension was frustrating. Was he just supposed to stay away from you? He knew you wanted him back. You didn’t have to say it, that’s what this whole game was about. Harry has studied you and the way you act the only thing that made this different the other times you’ve played cat and mouse with him is that you found a new toy to fuck around with. “You look fucking amazing.” Harry sighed and shifted on the sofa the pair of you were sitting on. He wasn’t lying the skirt you were wearing was low cut and your waist was twisted and curved like when he used to hit it from behind. He should probably stop but who wouldn’t think about you like that?

You noticed that Harry was staring. Staring in your eyes studying you. Staring at your clothes or lacking thereof. Staring at your lips imagining God knows what and you stared right back. It was almost like how you see in the movies. You moved in slow motion as you scooted closer to him on the seat. Your legs crossed and your hands were cradling your phone. Harry sat opposite of you with his legs spread comfortably. His arms were lying over the back of the sofa. The two of you were sure there were more glamorous couches to be lounging on, but the accommodation wasn’t of concern when your lips met for the first time in months. Something about the kiss was electric. Your phone fell to the floor as harry pulled you closer. The position was awkward with your arm trapped between his body and yours. Your legs remained crossed until Harry’s hand gripped the skin of your exposed thigh. His firm palms and fingertips massaged the muscles you had been using to dance all night. Neither of you broke for air until your phone began to ring from the floor.

Harry leaned forward and picked up the device first. His mood dampened as he saw the name flash across the screen. In a split second it crossed Harry’s mind to decline the call on your behalf. All it would take is one swipe of a finger, one press of a button. He would have his lips back on yours in a second. You sat across from him looking expectantly with wide innocent eyes. Such a loud juxtaposition from the smudged lipstick smeared across your plush mouth. And all the nasty things he knew you could do and say with it. You were so beautiful and the second you answered the call you wouldn’t be his anymore.

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#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles x black!reader #hslot 2023 #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader smut

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