#coincidence? yeah probably but ya know.

[localgardenweed]

About to lose my shit over my shitty Algebra teacher cause i think he’s the devil incarnate cause he doesn’t respect kid’s 504 plans, there is this kid who may not always show up to class on time for some reason im not sure why but they try their best to catch up and work hard and they asked to send over and take the recent test they missed in a certain classroom and he was like “No you cant, you have to show up tomorrow in here to take it” when literally in their 504 plan says they can take it in that room no one can force them to take it in their classroom, but DOES HE CARE??? NOOOOOO. I think he was just trying to be tough or smth god knows what cause he has a huge ass power complex like dear god dude we get it you were a army guy but is yelling at teens really what you wanna do to feel that high of power again?? The kid then complained to the school and he got a ass whooping but sadly not fired and then the next day was pissed as hell and took it out on all of us 😍

he doesn’t care to actually help students at all, he just gives up on them if they don’t understand the first or barely the second time and tells em to basically fuck off and find someone else to explain it and i get it teaching is hard you might not be able to get everyone to understand BUT ITS LITERALLY HIS GO TO RESPONSE WHEN YOU DONT UNDERSTAND SMTH IN HIS SHITTY RAPID FIRE EXPLANATION WHEN HE JUST JUMPS FROM THING TO THING WITH NO VISUAL OR EVEN SENSE CAUSE WTF HOW DID YOU GET THAT ANSWER HELLO?? SLOW DOWN?? We were going over the study guide and he started doing a question and then realized half way it was “too hard” to do on the board so he gave up and kept going to the next question and a kid at my table who didn’t do that part pf the study guide cause they dont know how asked “Can you go over that please i don’t understand it” and his response was “im not going over it just to fill it in” and the kid said “im not asking to just fill it in im asking cause I DONT KNOW HOW TO DO IT” and guess what. HE DIDNT DO IT HE JUST IGNORED THEM AND KEPT GOING. YOUR STUDENT IS ASKING FOR HELP AND YOU AINT DOING SHIT. HELLO??? AND THIS ISNT THE FIRST TOME HE ALWAYS PULL THIS SHIT ALL THE TIME, GOD FORBID YOU ASK A QUESTION MORE THAN ONCE THATS TOK SCARY AAAHHHHH.

I hope all his classes fails and they fire his ass cause omg there has never been anything positive said about this man that isn’t from favorites/people who already are godly at math. The average student who’s had him HATES HIM.

Im really debating like cussing him out Thursday after my final cause i cant just walk away and act like it was a okay class no he needs to get fucking humbled at least see what he does is harmful and shitty and douchey. I dont care if i get in trouble im not gonna go down like this so many kids in that class have struggled cause of his ass not doing his job. And sure some of there are rowdy and sure some are a bit off task but that doesn’t give you the right to abandon them. If i ever kicked my own bucket he would be 5 of my 13 reasons why.

[itsgrimeytime]

i know i got him || Rick Grimes (TWD) x gn! reader

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker @zomb-1-egutzz

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration: Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter

Summary: Ever since you showed up, you've had an effect on Rick. At least, that's what everyone said. Initially, you hadn't recognized it. But after one too many coincidences, it's starting to become a little impossible to ignore.

TWs: flirting, simp behavior, cursing, and all things TWD.

[[A/N: Was listening to this song nonstop (so good btw) and my brain went... hmm. Rick is terribly down bad in this. Like eager to do things for you, following you around like a puppy dog, the works. Also this gif????? girl... Enjoy :)))) ]]

You had never really thought about how you affected him. Or how they thought you did, anyway.

"You're being ridiculous," you stated -plainly.

Maggie was trying desperately to convince you that you had one Rick Grimes wrapped around your finger. Rick Grimes? Wrapped around your finger? No way.

"Do you remember yesterday? When he went on a run to find you a pair of shoes?"

"That was not why he went out on a run," you laughed a little, mindlessly bouncing Judith against your side, "-we need more as a community than just-"

"Then, why-" she interjected, "-did he only come back with shoes?"

"He didn't," you countered, "-He had some cans of food, I remember."

"Two," she relented, looking at you with a raised eyebrow, "-he went out on a run for two cans of food?"

"Sometimes you can't find much-"

"Oh my god," Maggie rolled her eyes, "-you are unbelievable. Let me just show ya-"

You pursed your lips, as she walked ahead of you -beelining to Rick. She had quite the pep in her step, pregnant and all, "Show me?"

Before you could call out to her, she was at Rick's side. He seemed to be talking to Deanna, actually, and if he was talking to Deanna, it was probably important. He smiled at her, in a Rick sort of way, until she started motioning to you. You had no idea what she was saying, but his eyes flicked to you instinctively.

Now, you'd never thought about if he smiled differently at you, but it was kind of hard to ignore right now.

Eyes dipping over you and Judith, the bright grin on his face was very different than the one for Maggie previously. And it wasn't even like that one wasn't genuine, you could tell it was, this one was just different.

It was crinkly eyes and shining white teeth. It surprised you that it didn't even seem unfamiliar to you; how long had he been smiling at you like this? And you had just normalized it?

You guessed you didn't have a direct comparison but still-

You smiled back (maybe just as bright, you weren't sure) and gently waved.

Watching him laugh a little and shake his head (like he couldn't believe you were waving at him?), your eyes darted to the ever-so-slight pinks of his ears.

Before you could think about it, Maggie said something to grab his attention (eyes stuck to you before snapping to her), and they were both on the way to your side. Something worried in Rick's eyes, you felt some guilt coil into your stomach; what had Maggie said?

You couldn't ask about it before he was already at your side, hands itching to fuss over you -you could tell. He seemed to let them win.

"Maggie said ya got a headache?"

Right, it was a sort of offhand remark to Maggie. And it was hurting, the sun even stung your eyes a bit. But he left that conversation (obviously very important) because you had a headache?

The gears in your head were turning, and Maggie seemed to watch them -eyes stuck to your face. You couldn't believe it yet, there had to be a reason.

"Rick," you started, "-it's fine. It's minor, had it since I woke up this morning, I can-"

His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes gleamed with concern, hands coming to rest on your arm, "Ya had it since 'is mornin'?"

Shit.

"Yeah," you answered, still trying to fight your case, "-but really, Rick, it's nothing. I can manage-"

"Ya should go rest," he interrupted, taking Judith from your arms, "-least til' it gets a lil' better. 'S hurtin' your eyes, I can tell."

How did he know that?

"Rick, seriously-"

"I'll take ya home," he hummed, carefully, "-and I'll come back in an hour to check on ya-"

"Rick," you tried again.

"-Get some medicine from the doc', and bring it to ya myself," he finished, something in him decided.

You pursed your lips, trying a different angle, "Shouldn't you be getting back to Deanna?"

"She can wait," he responded, simply.

"Well," you frowned, "-it has to be important, I don't want to-"

"'S not as important as you."

The words faltered in your throat, and Maggie looked at you in a way that you could hardly grasp. Mouthing 'I told ya so', you thought on it. Maybe he was just concerned, I mean one thing-

And then, his hand came to rest on your lower back, guiding you home, and your brain promptly turned off.

Ever since that conversation, you'd been trying to reason. Keeping watch on your interactions with Rick (he did always smile at you like that, fyi), you were trying to rationalize it. Give it a reason. Other than what Maggie, and others, said, but it started stacking up.

It was a dreaded day, laundry day. And out of the cycle, it was your turn.

Sometimes, the people of Alexandria would just air dry their clothes for conservation reasons, really. And every time, there was someone assigned the duty. A little like how the meals were made, and someone had to help Carol -not that she'd ask for it. She was a little stubborn like that.

That being said, no one, and you mean no one, liked to do laundry. Specifically, because you had to get up early (to make sure you got all the sun power you could), and it took hours. Especially on your own.

You basically crawled out of bed at 4, maybe 5, in the morning. Still in your pajamas, you stalked through the streets of Alexandria -dragging your feet a little, you won't lie. Making your way over to the air drying area, you pulled out all the baskets and placed them along the ground -organized. It was probably the only time you ever really were these days.

Putting your hands on your hips, you let out a big, long sigh.

"Well," you tried to smile, still so asleep that your voice was cracking, "-the sooner I start, the sooner the hell ends."

Before you could even grab a single piece of clothing, a voice interrupted you -low in drawl like maybe he had just woken up.

"Ya need some help?"

Your eyes shot to him and something in your chest fluttered, stirring in your stomach. Rick was still in his pajamas (plaid pants low, and a plain t-shirt), eyes still heavy with sleep like maybe he'd just woken up too, and his hair probably the messiest you'd ever seen. There was a curl hanging in front of his head, you got the urge to fix it.

And maybe it was because you were half awake, but you did. The smile he got on his face after made warmth shoot to your toes -all dopey and sleepy. You kind of just wanted to gather him up in your arms, and maybe fall asleep on his chest (woodsy smell and body warmth). Luckily, that urge didn't come to fruition.

You furrowed your eyebrows, "What the hell are you doing up this early?"

Not only was it odd that he was up this early, but like you said no one likes laundry duty. So why was he offering to help at all? If he had duties this early, shouldn't he be going and doing them? Why-

"'Eard it was your turn," he spoke, low and gravelly (you had no idea how to handle that), "- an' wanted to help ya."

You pressed your lips together, mind chiming 'wrapped around your finger'.

No one likes laundry duty.

"Thank you, Rick, but-" you started, "-I can tell you're still tired and I know for a fact you have a lot to do later today, so-"

"Nothin' to do," he hummed, wiping at his eye. Cute.

That had to be a lie.

"Asked Deanna for a break," he clarified, looking at you a certain type of way, "-Needed one anyway, thought I'd help ya."

"You're," you sputtered, a little in disbelief, "-You're taking a break day to help me with laundry? It is so much work-"

"Won't feel like work if I'm wit' ya."

Good god. Was he always this sweet? You couldn't have been that oblivious. Seriously.

"Guess I could use some company," you muttered, a little flattered but you tried to hide it. Rick just smiled at you in a way that made your breath hitch in your chest, you wavered on your feet.

"But, seriously," you added, "-if you need to take a break, on your break day, let me know, I'll-"

"'S long as you're workin'," he smiled, big and bright, "-I'm workin'."

"Is that," you laughed a little, "-Is that your way of making me take a break?"

He smiled differently then, mischievous, "Maybe."

You bit your lip and decidedly turned to the baskets, "Let's get to work then, Grimes, the faster we start, the faster we're done."

He joined your side, close enough to touch, it made your head spin a little. Before speaking, low like maybe a mutter, and maybe even nervous-

"Ya mind if I stick by ya for the day? 'Ve got nothin' else to do, figured I'd just be wit' ya. If 'at's alright?"

Good god.

You swallowed, blinking, but not quite turning to him, "Of course, you... Yeah, of course. I mean, I might have more chores-"

"I don't mind," he hummed, gentle, already hanging up something -not looking at you, "-'s long as it's wit' ya."

You blinked, damp shirt in your hands, just staring at him. Watching as he carefully clipped up the clothes, big hands ever-so-gentle like he didn't just drop probably the sweetest thing you'd ever heard. Genuinely too.

Shit, maybe they're onto something.

You decided to ask around.

"Honest question, Carol," you hummed, thumbing through a few of the ingredients. It was your day to help her, it's probably one of your favorite chores. You really enjoyed her presence, she was a close friend. Long story short, you trusted her judgment.

She hummed, gently grabbing one of the ingredients.

"This may sound so stupid, just know that I'm acknowledging that," you clarified, now looking at her, "-but do you think Rick is into me?"

Carol paused a moment, trying to decide how to react maybe, and you could already see her reaction. She was just a little too polite to say it instantly.

"Shit," you muttered, "-really?"

She pursed her lips, looking at you with a little pity almost, "'Fraid so. It's..."

She fell silent for a second, you just watched -patiently.

"-Everyone knows," she continued, hesitantly (like maybe she didn't want to embarrass you), "-Rick... I think he's been into you since the prison."

"The prison?" you nearly exclaimed, stalling in place. No way, "-what did he-"

"Remember the week 'at you were sick?"

Right, you'd been a little delirious from something. Maybe a little more than a cold? Nothing super serious, you remember Hershel telling you that but you had to rest. He was pretty sturdy on that. Turned out you couldn't have been doing anything, it made you feverish and nearly sleeping all the time-

"Ya ever wondered who took care of you?" she questioned, directly.

"No," you laughed, "-it was Hershel, he was the medic-"

"You sure?" Carol countered, eyes peeking at you -leveling a stare, "-He was feeding you, gettin' ya water? Stayed by your bedside?"

You faltered, something in you twisting, "Carol."

You'd remembered something like Rick feeding you, bites extended forward, and maybe the low timber of his voice. You'd just thought it was you being delirious; you had a thing for him, so you just-

"Carol," you repeated.

"He was there every day," she clarified, turning to the other side of the kitchen, "-as far as I know, he only left to do farmin' and see Carl or Judith. If you seemed to get worse, he got Hershel. But... otherwise..."

"Carol."

"None of us said anythin'," she added, busying her hands, "-because he didn't. 'At was his thing, it wasn't our place."

"For all this time?" you scurried to her side -hanging on to every word she said.

"Well," she sighed, turning to you fully now, "-we kinda figured he'd say something by now."

"God," you groaned, throwing your head into your hands, "-I have to be the dumbest person on the planet."

"To be fair," Carol soothed, "-ya didn't know."

You couldn't look Rick in the eyes for the rest of the day, or maybe you stared at him a lot more. It was all so confusing.

You decided then and there, that you'd try the most trustworthy person. The one who wouldn't lie to you, a little because he respected you too much. It did help that he was most definitely Rick's best friend.

"Hey, Daryl?"

You'd arranged a run with a few newcomers, and frankly made Daryl come because you wanted to have this conversation.

He didn't speak, just sort of grunted. It tracked.

"You're probably the most honest person I know," you cleared your throat, "-and I am pretty desperate at this point for just... honesty."

He turned to you fully then, something like concern in his eyes. The guy was truly a softie at his very core, you probably treasured your friendship the most out of everyone but it was a close call.

"Everythin' alright?"

You pursed your lips, "Yeah, yeah, don't worry. It's a... probably stupid thing actually."

He kept walking forward through the aisles of the store you were in, stashing away some essentials. You were doing the same, well, you were trying to.

"Stupid thin'?" he asked, not looking at you.

"Yes, it's dumb as hell, frankly," you laughed a little, "-but I just... I guess I want to know the extent of it."

Daryl turned to you, eyebrows furrowed together, "What the hell are ya talkin' 'bout?"

"Rick," you answered, and he seemed to take a second at the name, "-Is he really into me? Like everyone seems to believe?"

He didn't answer at first, just simply turned back to the canned foods, "Carol tell ya 'bout the prison? When ya were sick?"

"Yes," you swallowed.

"Ya should know the answer to 'at then," he spoke -gruff and straightforward.

"Well," you tried to argue, "-it's hard to understand it. I just... I don't know."

Daryl said nothing, walking forward through the aisle. You followed him, keeping your eye out for more that he hadn't grabbed. And for a moment, you thought he wasn't going to say anything else.

Suddenly, he spoke up, "He can't focus when you're on runs. Deanna 'ates it."

You opened your mouth to ask just how he knew that, but he interrupted you.

"She complains," he clarified, before asking, "-Ya ever wonder why ya barely get put on runs? When everyone else is goin' in a cycle?"

"I..." you paused, mulling it over. When was the last time you were organically on a run? You'd arranged this one-

"Deanna don't put ya on 'em," Daryl explained, turning to you with some canned food in his hand, "-'cause she kno's Rick'll be useless. He'd be waitin' at the damn gate if he could."

You tried to speak, but he continued.

"He always asks someone ya were out wit' to keep an eye on ya. And 'en, when ya come back, asks 'at same person if ya got hurt at all. Scratches, cuts, if ya tripped probably-"

You didn't say a word.

"-I kno' 'cause I've been 'em," he clarified, and you were wordless.

You took a deep breath in, good god.

"So yea'," he answered finally, "-he's into ya."

And then, he moved forward and didn't say another word. He didn't really have to though.

You'd even watched this time, keeping an eye on Daryl and where he went after coming back from the run. And sure enough, Rick waltzed up to him like it was the most normal thing in the world. You imagined you knew the conversation.

Yeah okay, your mind chimed, he has a thing for me.

The thing was, he might've been hesitant but you sure as hell weren't going to be. You might warm him up a little bit though, maybe just for a little fun.

He was wearing a new shirt. Kind of weird for you to notice, but it was the apocalypse, everyone wore the same thing so often that it melded with them in your mind. You could still vividly picture what Rick looked like at the prison and sure, maybe that was for more reason than just that, but still.

You went a little on autopilot. Call it confirming what you already knew, basically. Or, at least, that's what you'd tell yourself.

Upon closer inspection, you noticed the collar of his (new) flannel was askew -just a little. Bingo.

You waltzed up to him and Deanna with no particular air of anything. Just normal, you wanted to see it for yourself really (the laundry thing was very telling, but you wanted to see the little things). Rick stuttered to a stop, words halting in his throat when you showed up, and your heart flipped in your chest. Stay focused.

"Hey, sorry," you apologized, genuinely (well, kind of), "-I just gotta-"

Carefully, you straightened out his collar.

You felt his eyes on you the whole time (just staring), it made your heartbeat pick up a little bit but, luckily, he couldn't quite see that.

"-There," you cheered, just a tiny one, and you saw a dopey sort of smile spread across his lips (it made you feel warm down to your toes).

You pat his chest once, feeling his body heat thrum against your hand -eyes connecting to his, "Like the new shirt, by the way."

He looked at you in a way that somehow seemed familiar but you'd never really noticed. You'd been noticing a lot more recently, to be fair.

With one last apology (eyes dashing to Deanna, who in retrospect looked a little annoyed), you politely made your exit.

Finding anywhere to go, you spotted Maggie -who was already looking at you.

Shit.

She approached you before you could go anywhere else, and you readied yourself for the onslaught.

"What was that?" she asked, carefully.

You resumed your step, maybe with a little too much pep, "His collar was messed up. I fixed it."

"No, no," she followed your lead, perfectly in time, "-you... you're doin' somethin', what are you doin'?"

"I'm not," you answered -plainly.

Maggie, frankly, didn't believe you (obviously).

You weren't sure what you were waiting for, maybe for him to realize? You knew you could've just told him yourself, and you really were going to... but every time you tried to walk up to him, your throat just clogged up. He would look at you that way (all dopey and sweet and affectionate) and you just-

God, you were useless.

It was late, way too late for you to be up (you should clarify), but you just couldn't sleep. You weren't entirely sure what it was, but at the same time, you knew exactly what it was.

Every day that you didn't tell him was another day wasted. It was the apocalypse. Every day was numbered, and you could be gone at any moment and there was no time to waste. But, you tried and tried and tried. It just wouldn't come out. You weren't sure why.

You groaned, pulling your pillow over your face for a moment. You had things to do tomorrow, couldn't you just have this crisis later-

And then, there was a knock.

Pausing, you waited a moment just to see if it was even real.

Knock.

It was a strong one too, maybe a little desperate, and fear shot through your spine. Before you could think too hard, you scrambled out of your bed -the chill of the night seeping into your skin. Your mind was in one lane, survival. Someone was probably hurt, something was happening-

With shaky hands, you pulled open your door, words on the edge of your tongue-

"Rick?"

He was standing at your door, hair mussed and in his pajamas (still the low-hanging plaid pants, you noted). You let yourself look at him a moment, taking in the domestic view of Rick you'd only seen once before. Seeing him like this almost made you forget your worry, but it still struck a cord in your chest.

You frantically searched over him (looking for wounds or blood), "Shit, are you alright? Did you g-"

"I'm okay, I'm okay-" he moved his hands to your shoulders, and your mouth snapped shut, "-Everythin's fine, darlin', relax."

"God," you let out a breath, centering yourself, "-you scared the shit out of me."

Rick smiled at you a certain type of way then, sleepy and still with that little glint, and let out a low sort of chuckle. Hair all mussed and eyes half closed, it might've been the cutest thing you'd ever seen.

"Sorry," he smiled at you, something twinkling in his eye, "-didn't mean to scare ya."

You waved it off, before falling a little more serious, "If there's nothing wrong, why are you here, Rick?"

He seemed to take a pause. Eyes flickering all over you, a bit in reverence. It made you either what to throw up or faint, you weren't totally sure which one.

"Are you-" you spoke, carefully, "-Are you emotionally okay? Do you need me to-"

"I need ya."

You faltered, barely digesting, "Need me to what? Whatever-"

"No," he clarified, something in his eyes, "-I just need ya."

"What?" you asked -half awake, and unsure if he was saying what you thought he was.

"Y/N," he started, eyeing your now connected hands, "-I want... Shit, I need ya wit' me."

"Rick," you spoke, softly, "-what are you talking about?"

"I'm tired of not bein' wit' ya-" he spoke, like it took everything in his body to say it -a little like he was pleading with you.

It felt like your breath was knocked out of your lungs, and your heart was coughing up your throat. You felt totally and completely numb, all you could do was look at him.

He continued, eyes turning to match yours and grabbing your hands, "-I'm tired of missin' ya like a limb when you're standin' two feet away, I'm tired of always wishin' ya were closer, I'm tired of not tellin' ya 'at I think you are everythin' to me, I'm... I'm tired of it."

"Rick," your eyes were getting foggy.

"Darlin', I-" he let out a long breath, "-I can't do it anymore. I feel like I can't breathe without ya near me-"

"Rick."

"-Ya gotta understand 'at I-" he looked down (a little like the words were stuck in his throat), "-I... I can't function without ya. 'S like you're a piece of me 'at's just constantly missin' and it don't 'ave to be."

"Rick," you tried again.

"Y/N, I've-" he stuttered a second just looking at you, "-I've never felt 'is way 'bout anybody. An' I don't... I'm not even sure what to do 'bout it- I can't even think straight when you're gone, it... it stops everythin'-"

"Rick," you repeated, but there wasn't a lot of will behind it.

"Because 'ow am I supposed to be me without ya?"

You swallowed, heavily, eyes flickering all over him -maybe a little in reverence too. It felt like this was all a dream, and maybe this was exactly what you wanted him to say. Only one thought was rattling through your head, and you couldn't shake it, you're not sure you wanted to-

You spoke, breathless and maybe a little teary, "Rick, I love you."

Rick smiled at you so brightly that your knees felt a little weak, and your heart stuttered in your chest. God-

"You-" you laughed a little then, hands coming up to brush along his face (touching what you had longed to for so long)"-you're unbelievable. I couldn't even wrap my head around the thought that you could be into me-"

He just watched you, something shiny in his eyes (you couldn't tell if it was feelings or tears).

"-God you should've seen me. I asked like everyone in Alexandria," he laughed a little, and you gleamed, "-And... And I found out about so much that you've done for me. And you took a day off to do laundry with me-"

He laughed again, "Guess 'at made it pretty obvious, huh?"

"That, and-" you smiled at him, pushing some of his curls back out of his face, "-caring for me in the prison-"

He pursed his lips at that, maybe expecting you to never know. It didn't seem like he could stop looking at you though.

"-and you know what, not being able to focus when I'm gone on runs is pretty incriminating-"

He leveled the same look, and you could see his ears go pink. Cute.

"-or maybe," you continued, looking at him in a way that you hoped he understood (you were desperate for him to), "-when you dropped an obviously important conversation because I had a headache."

He just smiled at you, all dopey and affectionate. It made warmth bloom through your chest. Love, love, love-

"If it ain't obvious," he started, just staring, "-I love ya too. More than what I kno' what to do wit'."

You grinned at him, teasing, "Really? 'Couldn't tell."

He rolled his eyes at you, but was smiling so bright you couldn't take it seriously, "Ya gonna be like 'is now?"

"Oh, yeah," you answered, "-now I know just what you've done for me, and for how long. You're toast."

"Ya act like 'at's all I 'ave done," he countered, maybe smirking a little.

"It's not?" you asked, genuinely curious.

"No," he laughed, "-I was desperate for ya. For a long time. I did a lot to just be by your side, not countin' what I did for ya."

"Well," you smiled, moving your hands to curl into his hair, "-you'll just have to tell me sometime."

"Maybe," he hummed at the motion, and grinned at you, "-but the list is only bound to get longer. Might take forever."

"You know what, Grimes," you laughed, but you were genuinely, "-I think I can do forever."

"Me too," he grinned even brighter, eyes dashing along your face, "-as long as it's with ya."

Yeah, you thought to yourself (and maybe kissed the life out of him), I can definitely do forever.

[ilongfor-the-arts]

Just read the museum marquis fic and I love it. I wonder what would a fanfic where the marquis de gramont met a ballerina reader?

Poetry in Motion

Pairing: Marquis de Gramont x fem! Reader

Warnings: mild language

Summary: A tall and handsome man has been watching you preform for a while. What will happen when he finally chooses to introduce himself?

Word Count: 2.5k

I got multiple reqs for this! So, here ya go! Enjoy!

“You’re late Y/N!”

I dashed into the locker room, tossing my bag atop the dressing room counter.

“I know! I know! I’m really sorry! My apartment door wouldn’t lock and there was traffic and then-”

My director held up a hand, silencing me.

“I don’t care. Please-just, be ready to go by showtime.”

I nodded vigorously.

“Yes, yes, of course. I will be ready, I promise.”

She quickly turned on her heels and began walking in the opposite direction. Her blue dress swayed gently as the dancers rushed around her. Her spine was straight, her posture rigid.

I don’t blame her. I'm just as nervous as everyone else to see how this performance goes. Unfortunately, I'm a dancer, so rigid posture isn't ideal. I'm forced to keep my anxiety bottled up inside my head.

“Y/N.”

My friend called my name, jolting me from my trance. She was fully dressed, with a full face of makeup. She stared at me, completely stunned.

“Y/N, you better hurry! Everyone else is ready to go!”

I moved rapidly, quickly opening my makeup bag, praying I had enough time.

“What took you so long?”

I slapped my palms against the table, annoyed.

“Oh, Clara, it’s been such an aggravating day.”

I stared at my reflection, watching as the foundation completely coated my face.

“Do tell.”

I took out my eye makeup.

“Well, first my apartment wouldn’t lock.”

I closed one eye and applied eyeshadow as quickly as I could.

“My key wouldn’t work! And of course I couldn’t just leave my apartment unlocked so I had to bother my neighbor to get the spare key I gave her.”

I moved on to the other eye.

“Then there was so much traffic. Then I couldn’t find a good parking spot because I got here so late. Then I had to walk almost six blocks.”

My eye makeup looked... alright. Sure, if I had an extra hour, I could make it look fantastic. But, due to my unfortunate situation, I had to settle for average.

“Wow girl, that’s rough. I’m sorry.”

I pulled out my blush.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think that cute guy will be here tonight.”

I scoffed loudly.

“He’s always here. If he goes four days without seeing a ballet, just assume he’s dead.”

Oh my goodness, that blush color was really clashing with my eyeshadow. Shit! I didn't have time to remove it and start over. Perhaps I could just add another color to my eyes, creating a strange hybrid color that would blend well with the blush.

“I don’t know Y/N. I’ve been here longer than you, and he only started going regularly once you got here.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, right. It’s probably just a coincidence. I doubt he’d spend a shit ton of money on fancy ballet tickets just to see some pretty girl dance.”

I watched Clara shrug from the corner of my eye.

“I dunno. He always dresses like he’s ready to meet the queen, and he sits in a box. He doesn’t seem short on funds. He definitely could be the type to buy ballet tickets just to admire you.”

Okay, the blush and eyeshadow looked fine. I could handle "fine." I could work with "fine.”

“I don’t know Clara. You know, when you watch a performance, faces and names blend together because there are so many people on stage. I doubt he picked me out of the crowd and decided I was going to become the object of his affection.”

I put on some red lipstick, trying not to be distracted by the fact that all the dancers I saw in the mirror were fully prepared.

“Besides, a handsome man like that?... he probably has a girlfriend.”

Clara perked up.

“Oh, so you admit you think he’s handsome.”

I rolled my eyes for a second time.

“I mean, come on Clara, look at him!”

Clara let out a loud and obnoxious laugh. My face turned hot. Thankfully, the makeup covered most of the natural pink that had begun to appear on my cheeks.

“Oh my God you have a little crush on him, don’t you!”

I held up my hands in defense.

“I am not having this conversation right now!”

I stood, rushing over to the costume rack.

“I’ve never seen him with a girl Y/N! I think he’s single and ready to mingle!”

Clara’s loud voice drew some attention. I swiveled on my heels and placed a finger to my lips.

“Sh!”

-

The show was finished, and the final bows were taken.

The roar of the crowd washed over me like a wave. I was moved to know that they were all applauding for this performance. As the entire company gathered for one final bow, I observed the crowd's faces contort into bright smiles. I felt moved knowing that at least one person in the audience was thinking about what a wonderful job I did tonight.

I hoped it was the man whose appearance I had grown accustomed to over the past few weeks.

The gold theater sparkled. The red seats gradually vanished as people rose to pay their respects to the performers.

I was unable to avoid glancing around at the various people in the crowd. I started in the box seats, hoping to spot a tall man with a penchant for fashion.

No luck.

My gaze was drawn to the floor seats. I scanned them all as quickly as I could. Maybe he sat closer? If he truly came to see me, it wouldn't hurt to get the best view possible in the front row.

No luck.

I'm not sure why I was so desperate for him to be here. Nonetheless, I felt my heart sink slightly as I considered the possibility that he missed tonight's performance.

We finished with a company bow. We waved goodbye, and quickly scattered off the stage.

“Y/N!”

Clara exclaimed as we walked back to the dressing rooms.

“You did so well! Jesus, I thought for sure you’d be all scattered from coming in late, but you really pulled it off well!”

I didn't notice her hands cutting through the air as she spoke. I didn't even bother looking at her. I kept my head down, stuffing various cosmetics into my black backpack.

“Thanks Clara.”

I said flatly.

“Alright, what’s going on? Who’s got you bummed?”

I grit my teeth.

“He’s not here tonight.”

Clara leaned in.

“What did you say?”

“I said he’s not here tonight!”

I snapped involuntarily. Clara retreated.

“Woah woah, how do you know this?”

“I didn’t see him in the crowd.”

Clara furrowed her brow.

“Come on Y/N, there’s thousands of people in that crowd! There’s no way you could’ve checked every seat for him!”

My lips were pursed. Clara wrapped her hands around my shoulders, soothing me. She leaned into my ear, lowering her voice to a whisper.

“I bet he showed up tonight. And if he didn’t, it was his loss entirely.”

-

The cold Paris air bit at my exposed skin. The chill penetrated my tank top, chilling me to the bone. I drew the sides of my peacoat together, attempting to conceal my torso and thighs from the wind.

I began to stroll, trying to enjoy the lovely Paris evening despite the fact that so much was less than ideal.

After about thirty paces, I was struck by an uneasy sense that someone was watching me. I initially ignored it. There were numerous high-rise apartment buildings. I'm sure that feeling came from being a window away from someone's living space, and the possibility that someone was watching me inadvertently.

I couldn't shake the feeling even after another thirty paces. The buildings in this particular neighborhood were completely dark. That is, everyone was sleeping, and if anyone was watching me, it probably would go unnoticed by bystanders.

I took a peek over my shoulder to ensure my intuition was correct.

About thirty feet behind me was a tall, lanky man in a black coat.

Alright, probably just a coincidence-

Wait.

I did a double take.

Holy shit.

It was the guy from the ballet!

This all is just one big coincidence.

I kept my head down, trying to maintain my composure.

His footsteps became audible. I focused on them, noticing that they were becoming slightly louder with every step.

Shit.

Shit!

God, this guy is a total creep! How could I be so stupid?!

I’m about to get totally kidnapped!

I started to move faster, trying to appear calm despite being aware that my heart was pounding in my ears. My blood rushed to my heart, leaving my face pale and cold.

God, he’s getting closer!

Jesus my stomach is in knots!

“Don’t look so frightened, darling.”

The man’s velvety accent pierced the air like a knife. My heart jumped.

I’m fucked.

“Really, I just want to talk with you.”

No way in hell was I stopping. My calves burned. My eyes were wide. My hands trembled within my pockets.

My chest came into contact with something solid. I stumbled back, looking up.

Oh my goodness, he was right in front of me.

How did he get there without me hearing?

The heat left my body.

I stood, wide eyed and perplexed.

The man's neutral gaze softened as he noticed my anxiety.

“I am very sorry to have frightened you, madame. I am simply a fan wishing to pay my respects.”

He placed a hand on his chest.

“I promise, I mean no harm. There is no reason to be frightened.”

He was considerably taller than me. In two seconds, he could pick me up and throw me into the back of a shady white van.

Nonetheless, his luxurious accent and courteous eyes made me believe he was telling the truth. So I allowed myself to relax ever so slightly.

“Did you come and see the show tonight?”

A smirk played on the corners of his lips.

“But of course. It would be foolish of me to disregard the opportunity to observe such talent.”

Wow, I'm going to give credit where credit is due. He’s a smooth talker. He speaks with such elegance. I'm unable to ignore his words. With bated breath, I await each sentence.

“Well, that is very kind of you to say.”

He slipped his hands into the pockets of his black overcoat, shrugging nonchalantly.

“I only convey the complete truth. In my lifetime, I have seen hundreds of ballets, operas, and plays. It is uncommon to find such a passion for the arts in the hearts of the prefromers. Few people allow creativity to encompass every aspect of them. But, I have noticed fire within you.”

He glanced deeply into my eyes, as if he wanted to capture some of the "fire" within me and preserve it for himself.

“I can tell by the way you dance and command the stage.”

The gentle breeze rustled the end of his overcoat as his pale eyes shone in the pale moonlight. He exuded a sense of mystery that beckoned me to embrace the unknown.

“Your blood runs red with creativity.”

He came to a halt, his piercing gaze catching my lips before darting back to my eyes.

“And, your beauty is unmatched.”

Forget about my face being cold; it was now scorching hot. I just hope I kept enough blush on my cheeks to hide the natural pink.

He extends his leg, the buckle of his pricey loafer catching the moonlight. He steps closer, the wonderful aroma of whiskey and bergamot wafting into my nose. The scent cloud muffles my brain, making me dizzy with anticipation.

“How long have you been dancing for?”

I raise my eyebrows.

“Oh, well, my entire life. I started the moment I could walk and I’ve pretty much been in the dance studio everyday since.”

The enigmatic man nodded, pleased with my response. I took my hands from my pockets, as they were sweating despite the chill.

“And… Do you enjoy it?”

I nodded vigorously.

“Yes, I remember, um-.”

I took a deep breath, careful not to trip over my words and reveal that my heart was racing.

“I remember my first official dance class. I was- about four or five.”

I swallowed, a lump forming in my throat.

“All the kids were complaining. I mean, y’know, at that age it basically is just an excuse for the parents to get their obnoxious kids out of the house.”

He chuckled.

Yes!

“But I never complained, not once. I loved it from the start. And, it’s completely consumed my life since then.”

He took another step forward. The distance between us was almost non-existent now. To meet his gaze, I had to almost completely crane my neck back.

“I can tell. You don’t just dance, you float over the stage. It really is beautiful to watch.”

His voice dropped to a sultry whisper.

“You are beautiful to watch.”

My stomach flipped.

My breath caught in my throat as he cupped my face with his hand. His grip was gentle, as if he were coddling a baby bird.

My mind was empty, a void waiting to be filled by him.

He exhaled deeply, a breath fanning over my face. I instinctively leaned into him, craving his warmth, craving his scent, craving…

Him.

He ran his calloused thumb along my cheekbone. My face was burning. I knew he could feel it beneath his palm.

He grinned.

“You have a very bright future in the arts. Paris is only the beginning.”

I could sense the tension rising. I was on the edge of my seat, waiting for something magnificent to unfold.

A hug?

A proclamation of love?

A kiss?

“I hope and pray that you will allow me to be an integral component of your bright future.”

He slipped something into my empty pocket sneakily. He smiled broadly. My heart skipped a beat. His smile was enticing, so simple yet so effective.

“Call me, Ma chère.”

He took a step back, turned, and began to stroll away. My shoulders loosened. My chest gave way. My cheeks had lost their warmth. The tension had been released.

I could breathe.

I could think.

“Wait!”

I shouted. He glanced over his shoulder.

His figure looked very intriguing. Most of his ridges and curves were hidden by his long coat. It enticed one to venture into uncharted territories.

“What’s your name?”

He scoffed.

“When you call, I will tell you.”

[valiantartwritingweasel]

❦ Oh no, there seems to be only one bed. Whatever will we do? pt.2❦

My favourite hate-love trope in which you have to share a bed with your crush.

Finally leaving my drafts now after everyone started making the "too many beds trope" (which is funny ngl)

pt.1 here

//Thoma, Itto, Dottore, Alhaitam//

(you can tell on who I just gave up entirely. Also my english is deterioating, maybe I'll proofread in the following days...)

no pronouns mentioned :)

❦

Thoma

If you didn't know better you'd say that this situation was carefully crafted by your employer. It had to be. Ayato had fun watching you squirm around your colleague. Which you did anytime Thoma shot you one of his signature smiles, or when he leaned over your shoulder to inspect what you were doing. You folded so quickly whenever he laughed at one of your jokes. How could you not? The guy was the sweetest thing one could ever lay eyes on.

All of that aside, you just had a feeling that this situation was no coincidence, as you stood there, next to your fellow maid, staring at the bed.

You blinked, then looked over at Thoma.

The poor guy. 

Before you could actually grasp the situation and make a comment about it, he already yelled out "I can sleep on the floor". 

When you turned to look at him, the first thing you noticed were his bright red cheeks. The second thing you noticed was the mild terror in his facial features. 

You blinked at him, taken aback by surprise before mumbling "You sound like the thought of sharing a bed is dreadful to you." You let out an awkward cough before speaking up again "I wouldn't want you to sleep on the floor but.. maybe we can find another mattress, if it's really that bad for you?" you raised an eyebrow, eyeing him with suspicion.

A shimmer of dicomfort hushed across his features. The accusation didn't sit right with him. He cleared his throat while scratching the back of his head in embarassement "Hm, no. That's not... what I meant...". He sighed "I just wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable you know.." A sheepish smile crossed his features while the blush only seemed to worsen "I'd actually.. like bedding with you- Ah!" He caught himself in a cough "Not..not like that! Oh" He hid his mouth beneath his hand, staring at you "Please say something before I keep talking".

Your only answer to that was a soft laugh, followed by a quiet but adoring "Alright, let's bed together then." With a smile you went ahead to get ready for the night, giving the blonde a second to compose himself before following your example.

(would sleep on the floor, maybe even outside if you'd ask him to)

❦

Itto

As soon as the two of you laid eyes on the bed..: "Dips" both of you yelled in unison, before staring at each other.

"Well" you crossed your arms "sharing is caring…?" You tilted your head and he nodded. "Yeah yeah, that's right. We'll just share. It'll be fiiine". He looked embarrassed but you didn't know what caused it. Maybe he was just nervous that he might fart during the night or something.

Then a thought hit you. "Oh" you looked at him "oh my, do you snore?". Your eyes widened in horror at the mental image of how loud he'd probably snore. He seemed offended. "What? ME? Snore? Noooo I don't snore" he made a move with his hand. 

All in all: "I'm not convinced" you sighed. 

"Okay okay, tell ya what" he pointed a finger at you "I know I don't snore but if you find me snoring in the night, I'll give you money. If I don't snore I'll get to take you out. How does that sound? Deal?" He extended his hand, which you naturally took to shake "Yeah whatever big boy, all you're gonna end with is crippling debt" you laughed. You didn't actually know if he was a snorer but you just had to believe now.

Both of you shook hands when you paused "Hold on" you narrowed your eyes, shooting him a confused look "why take me out? Like…you don't mean as in…death right??". He gasped "WHAT? No no no, not like death, I mean like food. Eat something. Make you less hungry yknow?". He shrugged "I've wanted to ask for some time now but the chance never came", he scratched his head embarrassed before returning to his signature grin "but now I'M going to win and you have to come with me. You can't say no!".

You chuckled quietly, shaking your head in disbelief 'what an idiot' you thought. "Alright" you murmured "let's get to bed then" 

(You cannot tell me that the guy doesn't snore, I am CONVINCED that he does (my friend said he'd probably have a snore bubble too and now I can't unthink it (ANOTHER friend mentioned how he doesn't sleep with his eyes closed, I'm losing my mind at the mental image)))

❦

Alhaitam

As soon as he sees your embarrassed expression he´s like „we´ll sleep on the floor“ and that‘s it. I know you wanted this. Thank me later.

❦

Dottore

Never would you have guessed that one day you'd end up in this situation.

You, standing next to your BOSS of all people, in front of a lonely bed.

It's not like you hated the man next to you. In fact he was actually quite nice towards you. Or…at least as nice as the guy could get. But you were still alive after like 3 years of working for him, so that already counted for something. 

You were more of a simple task person, so everyone always dumped some sort of random task onto you. Through that, you've managed to actually befriend some of your colleagues although you've started to not get too personal with them. Sometimes some of them just went missing and you really didn't want to ask anyone what that was about. Instead you opted for the emotional distance option. 

It was wild to think about. The only reason Dottore took you with him on his mission was because everyone else was busy, preparing for something big. You, on the other hand, were not so busy. All that was left for you to do was to bring an occasional glass of water to one of the other workers. So when Dottore asked you to join him on his travels, you just nodded, not giving it much thought. 

But even if you had given it much thought, the idea of ending up sharing a bed together would've probably been the last thing to cross your mind. 

Before you could actually grasp the entire situation though, Dottore had already started taking off his unnessecary accesoires, leaving them on the bedside table. Clearly he didn't care about the whole situation.

You on the other hand needed another second or two to collect yourself. You looked at him, wondering if he even mentally checked that this was about to happen or if he was so far off into logic land to recognize your presence in the first place. Sighing you just took off into the bathroom, following your bed routine like usual....

(says either we take turns on the bed or we share, who cares honestly, the man's on a mission)

[suugarbabe]

Rockstar!Sirius Black has me in a chokehold. I’m obsessed with my wife @finalgirllx and thankful for the work she put in for me for these two edits and I hope everyone is pulling their hair out at them as much as me.

This little blurb is for my second wife @thatdammchickennugget ‘s hogmarch challenge.

Prompt: fire whiskey / are you speaking parseltongue or am I really that drunk

Warnings: fluff; mentions of bar/drinking;

You don’t really know how you got here. At this party that is. One day your muggle friend is begging you to come to a concert with her. Two weeks later she has you sleeping on a side-walk waiting to get in. “I really want to get barricade,” she says. And you love her so you comply. When you manage to get it, you’re just as shocked as she is. Arms crossed on the bar, elbows hanging over the barricade as music plays from the speakers while everyone waits for the band to appear.

You assume it’s a four person group; you see a drum set, a keyboard, a guitar with a mic stand and a bass guitar. You’re wracking your brain for the name of the band, your friends mentioned it probably a million times in the last hour alone but you’ve been so focused on not a Avada-ing any of the other millions of girls around who seem to want to keep pushing against your back to get closer to whoever this band seems to be.

It’s when the curtain falls that your heart nearly stops. It had to be a coincidence, right? The fact that this band happens to have the same name as the infamous group of pranking boys from your school years. But all your nervous fears are confirmed when they start strolling on to the stage, you recognize the others in an instant, but the one that catches your eye most intensely slings the guitar over his shoulder, a shit eating smirk gracing his lips as his tucks his hair behind his ear.

“Blimey, what a turn out, yeah lads?” The guitarist turns slightly where he stands, glancing at his friends behind him who are all nodding and shouting, pumping their fists in the air with the screams of fans in front of them. The guitarist turns back towards the crowd, eyes scanning over the sea of people until they come to the front and lock with yours. Your friend besides you starts shaking with giddy excitement as he speaks his next words into the mic, her arm hooking with yours. But you can’t tear your eyes away from his piercing gaze, “In case any of you’ve forgotten, we’re The Marauders and-”

Being barricade had its benefits because you heard the drummer shout, “Oi, Pads, get on with it, will ya, let’s give em a show, yeah?” Sirius laughs into the mic and your thrust back to being seventeen and pining after the long haired boy at the back of your advanced potions class. “Alright, Prongs, don’t lose yer head, mate. Who’s ready to fucking rock out?” Sirius strummed his guitar and the crowd erupted in cheers and screams. The entire concert was a bit of a blur. One because you didn’t know any of their songs, but two because it seemed like any time Sirius looked towards the front of the crowd, he looked right at you, and your friends and the girls surrounding you seemed to lose their mind at the concept.

When the concert finally ended you watched your old classmates take in the cheers and praise. James threw both his drumsticks into the crowd, Remus tossed a few picks as well. Reggie stepped from behind the keyboard, taking his setlist with him and passing it to the security guard to give to a random girl. Sirius, however, seemed to have a different plan. The girls around you seemed to be panting with anticipation as Sirius took a marker from a stage hand and laid down on his stomach, pulling the cap from the marker with his teeth before writing on his setlist on the ground. Capping the pen, he pulled the setlist off the ground slowly, folding the tape over the edges before folding the setlist into fours.

What really made everyone around you go into a frenzy was Sirius jumping down from the stage and walking straight up to you at barricade and holding the paper towards you with a smile. “Here,” Sirius grabbed your wrist, placing the folded setlist into your hand, “open it when you leave the venue. Was nice seeing you again, love. S’been too long since the last time.” Sirius then turned his attention to the people around you, shaking hands and signing a few autographs but it all sounded muffled to yours ears as it seemed like all the blood was rushing to your head as you were rushing out of the crowd, you friend close behind.

“Uhm, hello? Are you gonna tell me what the fuck that was back there?” You were walking as fast as you could without sprinting, your friend hot on your heels. “Y/n/n!” You turned abruptly to face her, her stopping roughly in her tracks. “What!” You were nearly screaming before taking a deep breath, “I’m sorry, erm, I’m sorry. I just…I haven’t seen those guys in a long time and it was just a little…overwhelming.” Your friend nodded, the grin never leaving her face, “How do you even know them, can we open the letter now, what does it say?”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing the note from your pocket. Unfolding it you finally answered her questions, “We went to school together, believe it or not they were very popular and I was…well…not. I had a few classes with the others and well Sirius was…friends with some of my friends, let’s say. Honestly I didn’t even expect him to recognize me once I realized they were the band we were seeing and…” your thoughts and words seem to die on your lips as your eyes scanned the setlist in your hands, Sirius’s sloppy scrawl strewn across in black marker. Your friend raised her eyebrows impatiently, turning your hands towards her so she could see what had you at such a loss, a gasp leaving her as she did so. “Is that a fucking address…”

So maybe you did know how you got to this party, your friend begging and pleading until you agreed to go. “It’s only polite, he did invite you after all,” she had said. You knew her agenda was more so to gain an opportunity to see the boys up close, so you didn’t argue when as soon as you entered the private bar she immediately went on the hunt. You, on the other hand, went straight for a drink, or two, or four. You were working on yet another firewhiskey when a rough voice spoke your last name from behind you. Turning around, you attempted to control your blush, “Black. Long time no see.” You did your best to keep your tone casual, like your heart wasn’t beating out of your chest.

Per expected Sirius was nothing but charming and smooth, “I didn’t expect to see a friend in the crowd tonight, you caught me slightly off guard I have to admit.” You clasped onto your drink with both hands, hoping the coolness of the glass would offset the heat that was rapidly spreading through your body, “You consider us friends? I didn’t even think you’d recognize me.” Sirius’s gaze turned what you could only describe as tender, “I would’ve failed Advanced Charms if you hadn’t put up with me for two whole terms. If spending endless weeks in the library didn’t make us friends, what then developed between us, nothing?”

No, just my raging school girl crush on you is all. You shook your head, mouth opening and slightly stammering, no explanation coming to mind. “Pads, you’re not scaring y/n/n away are you? Gonna make us not see her for another three years again?” Sirius huffed a slightly annoyed breath, “Yeah, Moony, the reason we haven’t seen her is strictly my fault, not that our band took off or anything.” Sirius jabs a thumb over his shoulder as he glances back at you as if to say, the nerve of this guy. “She didn’t even think I’d recognize her, or considered us friends! Can you believe that?”

The taller boy greeted you with a warm and familiar smile, the scar stretching over his top lip thinning with the action, “Well I certainly don’t blame her for the latter. But we’re still friends, aren’t we, dove?” Remus took a step forward, wrapping you in a tight and friendly embrace. “Hi, Rem,” you mumbled just loud enough over the bar music. Remus was gruffly pulled away from you to reveal a pouting face with glasses and a mop of curly hair, “Not consider us friends? Did seven agonizing years of potions together mean absolutely nothing to you?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the dramatics, “Hi, Jamie. ‘ve missed you.” You open your arms for a hug and are quickly embraced in a bear-like squeeze, “Missed you too shortcake. Been too long.” A second body joins your hug from behind, “Yeah, it’s been too long.” James pushes him off before letting you go, “Whydya have to do that Reg, you ambushed my hug.” Regulus opens his mouth to argue when a throat clearing catches all of your guys' attention. You turn to see your friend clearly doing her best not to freak out at the scene before her. You turn the the boys, pushing your friend slightly in front of you, “Guys this is my friend Órlaith. She brought me to your show. Big fan, her. Órlaith, this is Reg, Jamie, Rem and Sirius.”

The four boys all flashed award winning smiles while your friend managed a meek ‘hi’ and a slight wave. “So you didn’t just have classes with them, you were friends with the fucking Marauders,” Órlaith wacked your arm, causing James and Regulus to burst out in laughter. Remus leaned in close to your friend, a hand shielding one side of his mouth while pointing a thumb back at James, “Y/n/n, here actually helped make sure this one graduated on time.” James crossed his arms in mock offense, “Is he talking shite love? Moony, don’t fill her head with lies we’ve only just met.”

Sirius slung his arm over her shoulder, whispering in her ear, “Actually, I’d like to catch up with Y/l/n. You mind if I steal her for a moment? Think you can watch these gits, keep them in line for me while I’m away?” She gave a timid nod and Sirius flashed her his knee weakening grin. Remus shot Sirius a knowing look, one you completely missed as you were too busy focusing on Sirius lacing his fingers in yours and dragging you towards a roped off section of the bar. You tried to will your palm to not be clammy as you downed the last of your drink, setting the glass on a passing table. As Sirius led you up the few steps and past the velvet rope he settled you both down at a table in the corner.

With a wave of his wrist the music and sound of the crowd disappeared. “See? A perfect silencing charm. Wouldn’t have been able to do that without your help in years past, friend,” Sirius emphasized the last word, wiggling his eyebrows. You laughed slightly, eyes rolling, “Yes, I’m very proud of you. However, that hasn’t stopped the gaggle of girls staring at us.” You motioned toward at least four women you could see clearly shooting daggers your way at a private talk with the leading man. Sirius shrugged his shoulders, eyes never leaving your direction, “I don’t care about them, my focus is on you.”

Your face seemed to stay in a permanent state of blush with Sirius’s full attention solely on you. “Now tell me, sweetheart. Did you really not consider us friends all those years? I mean, I thought we were pretty close. If I recall we’ve drunkenly fallen asleep on a few couches and floors together. Who else does that besides very good friends?” You nervously summon a drink before you, taking the glass and trying to hide half your face behind it while you take a long gulp. Your eyes scan over Sirius’s face, taking in the changes, or lack thereof, from the last time you saw him.

He still has that same boyish charm, that grin the tends to sneak onto his face when he knows he’s being charming. His hair is still gorgeous, long and flowing, though maybe slightly greasier than your school years, but you’re sure that’s part of his rockstar aesthetic. His forearms now adorn multiple tattoos and from what you know of Sirius there’s probably more hidden elsewhere. He had a few more piercings now, and his jawline was more refined now that he was no longer a teenager, but what remained exactly the same was always your favorite part of him; his eyes.

Sirius always had the most captivating eyes; a deep russet brown that seemed to change with his mood and whether he was telling the truth or not. Either that or you had just spent so much time staring at him you began to figure out his tells without anyone else realizing. “You’re telling the truth, you really considered us good friends didn’t you?” Sirius laughed lightly, looking down at his lap before meeting your eyes once more, “Yes, I’m telling the truth.” You shook your head, “That wasn’t a question, it was a statement, I can tell when you’re lying. I just can’t believe you’re being serious.”

“Well I’m always Sirius, darling.” You rolled your eyes at his favorite pun, going to bring your drink back to your lips. Sirius, however, had other plans, stealing to glass from your hands and downing the rest himself. You opened your mouth to scold him but he got his words out first, “How can you – blimey, love no mixer really? Merlin’s fucking beard – how can you tell when I’m lying? I like to think I’m quite subtle at hiding the truth.” You sat up a bit straighter, tucking your legs underneath you on the couch. Normally you would never admit anything, especially not to Sirius himself, but your filter seemed to be turned off thanks to the many firewhiskey’s now running through your system.

You leaned your elbow on the back of the couch, facing Sirius now with your head resting against your fist, “Your eyes turn a shade or two darker when you’re lying. Normally they’re just this beautiful deep brown color that looks like the sun is shining directly on them, even when you’re inside and there’s not even a window in sight. But when you’re lying it’s like all the mischief you’ve got cooking in your brain is overheating and it deepens the color.” If you weren’t feeling so tipsy you probably would’ve noticed the deep blush that spread over Sirius’s cheeks. But being himself he couldn’t let you stop there, “What else have you seemed to notice over the years, huh sweet girl?”

Subconsciously you knew you’d regret it in the morning, but your ability to stop your mouth from rambling seemed to be null. “You tend to chew on your top lip when you’re concentrating, not the entire thing, just one of the corners. You did it tonight during your guitar solo, which was actually pretty fantastic. I'm very proud of you, Siri. And I only noticed you do that because it’s different from other people, usually people bite their bottom lip, but you bite your top,” Sirius touched his top lip with his fingertips as you continued, “And I know when you’re laughing just to be polite and when you’re laughing for real because your fake laugh is this polite little chuckle where you nod your head to make the other person think you’re really paying attention, but your real laugh is so much better. You throw your head back, and your hair falls from your face and it’s real hearty and deep and your smile stays bright for moments afterwards.” You let out a long sigh, your eyes keeping this distance look to them like you were recalling an exact moment for each aspect you just described. “Merlin, I was just so in…I just had the biggest crush on you back then.”

Sirius blinked a few times in disbelief, shaking his head and trying to clear his thoughts because there was definitely no way he heard what he just thought he heard, “I’m sorry, love. Are you speaking parseltongue or am I really that drunk?” You scoffed slightly, “Excuse me?” Sirius quickly held his hands up in defense, “No, no! I just meant that – oh for Godric’s sake, I’m gonna muck this up I just know it–” You grabbed his wrists, effectively stopping his spiraling tangent, “Sirius!” He looked up at you, eyes meeting yours and just like you said, they looked like the sun was hitting them directly despite being in the back corner of a dark bar, “I never needed help with charms.”

Your face contorted in confusion, “Sorry, erm, what?” Sirius closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He opened his eyes once more, making sure you were looking back at him so you would see he was telling the truth, “I never needed help with charms, I would fuck up spells on purpose because I wanted to spend more time with you.” You shook your head, “But Remus said…”

“I lied to Moony,” Sirius cut you off, “Well, I tried to lie to him at first. I told him I was failing and I asked him to ask you to be my tutor but the bloody git knows everything, saying shit like ‘I know you’re at the top of our class Sirius meh meh meh’, so I asked him to lie for me.” You shook your head, “Why would you do that?” Sirius placed his hands on either side of your face, your hands still holding his wrists, “Because I had an insanely huge crush on you that I kept trying to deny and Moony could see it a mile away. I’m surprised you missed it with everything else you seemed to notice.” You smiled at him, a real genuine relaxed smile, then he spoke again, “Past tense probably isn’t the right usage. After seeing you tonight, I can humbly admit that all those feelings are very much still here. You believe me, don’t you?”

Sirius tilted your head up so you were looking directly at him. He widened his eyes dramatically, staring at you intensely and causing you to giggle. You squinted your eyes at him briefly, making it look like you were really studying him, “Hmm..clear as day. Yes, Siri, I believe you.” Sirius let out a long breath, “Thank merlin, because I’ve been dying to do this since I was on stage.” Sirius’s lips met yours with a gentle fervent, intensifying only when you fisted the front of his t-shirt, pulling him harder into you. You pulled apart only when you were short of breath, both panting heavily. “Remus is going to lose his mind,” Sirius chuckled, grin never leaving his face. You glanced over his shoulder, flicking your wrist and breaking the silencing charm only to be met with cheers and whistles so loud they floated over the rustle of the bar, “I think he already has, they all have.” Sirius turned, seeing his friends and bandmates making their way over. He turned back to you, a cheeky grin on his lips, “Okay, kiss me again, just once more before they get here. Once they do I just know James is gonna talk your ear off about the whole thing.” You giggled, biting your bottom lip before grasping the back of his neck, pulling his lips towards yours once more.

[magicandmundane]

Currently rotating the reunion scene from ep4 around in my head like a rotisserie chicken (as one does), and there’s one thing that’s really standing out to me.

Hunter didn’t immediately step outside when that stolen freighter landed.

He and Wrecker have crossed the galaxy 5 times in almost 6 months, dead end after dead end, disappointment after disappointment. It’s got to be soul crushing, and then out of fucking nowhere they get a transmission telling them to go to that moon where they dropped supplies for Ryloth that one time, something Omega surely remembers, so it can’t be a coincidence, right? But it’s just too good to be true. No planning a prison break? No Hemlock? She just made her way back? What are the odds they’re being tricked?

So Hunter waited because he couldn’t stand to face the disappointment himself. (And Wrecker goes out there because he’s still hopeful and excited.)

Imagine the two of them on the Marauder as that ship lands and the stairs come down. Wrecker goes to the door and notices that Hunter is still sitting and typing something, and asks, “Are ya coming, Hunter?” And Hunter just looks at him and says, “Yeah, in a minute.” Wrecker gets it and doesn’t push (emotionally intelligent Wrecker ftw).

Then Hunter listens as Wrecker shouts, “Now there’s a sight!” And with those enhanced senses (who knows, that’s been dodgy at best this season) he probably hears Omega say, “Wrecker! I knew you’d show up.”

And then, he takes yet another moment to collect himself because holy shit it’s real this time, she’s really here.

Finally, Hunter goes out there, skips a bunch of stairs, and gives his kid the biggest hug.

And I just aaahhhhhhhh it’s so good! So intentional! I’m going to be thinking (translation: crying) about this for a long time.

[weebsinstash]

Okay but AU where Miguel is an alpha and reader is normal but they still give off the smell of being in heat before their period or just once a month so poor Miguel has to struggle with an oblivious reader whose just going around saying hi to people like they’re not a walking talking advertisement for sex

Reader: what do you mean 'I probably shouldn't go near Miguel right now? I thought he looked like he had a headache earlier so I got him some of those empanadas he likes from the cafeteria and some migraine tea

Peter B, not sure how he can tell you without sounding like an absolute freak that his friend is an Alpha and can smell that you're ovulating right now and if you go near Miguel when you're like this you could end up pregnant: beeeeecaaaussssse, Mayday misses you! Yeah, come hold my baby and come this way and hang with us and definitely NOT to Miguel's office!

(Lmao Miguel just checking security feeds by coincidence and, ugh, double whammy combo, he sees you holding the baby, in his eyes looking like the CUTEST potential mom, and he's just like "well, if she gets pregnant it's God's will 🙏". 'Poke holes in the condoms' girl he doesnt OWN condoms and he tells you up front, on his shit like "we're married, this is what married couples do". Or it's like. Kinda like with superman lol, where Miguel's altered not completely human DNA skirts around the spermacide in condoms that's formulated for humans so he might knock you up unintentionally but once it's on the way he wont let you get rid of it and he's actually so excited)

He overhears another Alpha make comments on your body and your scent and you just turn your head to see Miguel holding them by the collar as their little feeties dangle in the air and he's growling at them to "watch who they're speaking about that way" and you're just left ignorant that he's basically strangling the dude cause he was saying the equivalent of "if Y/N doesn't watch out she's gonna end up knocked up" and "hey maybe it'll be me" (no, absolutely not, run laps cadet, the boss ain't happy with ya)

And it works in reverse too! He smells good and you definitely cant help but notice 😩❤️ He stands just a little too close to you one day and you can smell this kind of masculine musk, I feel like he's kind of like too lowkey a recluse holing himself up to wear men's cologne but he's also like kind of an older man so just like, the thought of him having the scented pomade for his hair and you smell things like his deodorant and body wash when he's too close and it all smells very much you know Male but in a sexy way, the scent of aftershave sticking to him some mornings, coffee on his breath when he points to something on a monitor over your shoulder, just all these sorts of smells to associate with his presence even if you can't pick up the intricacies of his more "biological" components. You're up working late once and you fall asleep in a chair and later on you wake up tucked in on a couch in a break room with a blanket that has a scent on it (to tell other Alphas to back off and let you rest) and you can't help but put your face into it. like, as a young girl I didn't understand but I'm 26 now and there are just some male colognes and just like idk scents where you smell it and it's just like UGH I bet the man who left this is big 😩❤️ if it's not overpowering and you're not used to smelling "dude scents" that shit can be dangerous in the wrong hands

You experience the rare event of Miguel actually sitting down for once (shocking I know) and your desire to help and also your coochie activates when you see him looking kind of tired and run down and like, rubbing his face with a hand and he's got a migraine and here you are, "let me platonically rub your shoulders sir it definitely isn't at least partially because I'm crazy crazy horny for you and something about you kinda lowkey makes me wanna serve you"

Like you reach out and start rubbing his neck and shoulders and he's just so sore and had been working so hard he's like GROANING and shit like 😩 how could I not run my fingers through his hair, how could I SURVIVE if he started doing that shit. I couldn't, he felt your nails lightly drag against his scalp and it sent shivers up his spine and now you're getting your back put on the nearest flat surface while he pulls all your clothes off

"Sorry, but I don't think I can hold myself back anymore."

[bobeni]

  ⠀   ⠀   ⠀ ‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎O23 ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ፧ ‎ ‎EGGS AISLE ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏♡ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎

✶ users! › denji, m!reader.

✶ synopsis! › it could no longer be simply considered a coincidence; with how denji always seemed to pop up at the same time, at the same little store, just to see you.

✶ wrdcnt! › 1,586.

✶ cw’s! › fluff, possible ooc here we go, simp denji, trio stuff in the beginning, this is probably unnecessarily long lmao. i used they/them for the reader for one line, btw.

“Aw crap, we’re out of cereal and milk again! I’ma head out to the store to get some more!” Denji shouted as he zipped past two lazy bodies to the front door, snatching his hoodie off the rack with poorly disguised eagerness.

Aki sighed, looking up from the creased daily newspaper. “Again? That’s the third time this month.” His orbs followed Denji’s haste movements to shrug on the clothing.

The blond barely spared him a glance as he tried to fix his bedhead, “Yeah, yeah, I know, right? It’s bogus how Power keeps eating it all.” He feigned understanding just as said girl squawked at the blame now delivered to her shoulders. “What the fuck? I haven’t even touched the cereal since two weeks ago!” She yelled, mouth full of her breakfast, unfortunately it was just amalgamation of bacon and eggs.

“Ya can’t fool me, Powy, I know you sneak around in the middle of night, scarfing that shit down.” The gobsmacked look on blonde’s face was one Denji could remember for centuries.

“You bi一” as she was prepared to scream her indignation, she was stopped in her tracks by Aki’s agitated groan, followed by Denji’s so-called reassurance.

“Don’t worry, though,” the boy flicked the lock open, stepping an inch outside the apartment with every syllable. “I’ll make sure to replenish your stash, so don’t wait up!” Denji grinned at that last part, officially saying his leave to the both of them, the door narrowly missing his behind with how fast he tried to shut it.

With the boy off and out, Aki’s eyes lingered on the door. But they began to narrow in suspicion, prompting him to rise from the coach and walk into the kitchen for further investigation.

However, his investigation ended as soon as it started. The man found not just one, but several boxes of cereal, moderately filled. As well as the milk, as far back in fridge as it was, half full. This made his face scrunch up in confusion as he shut the fridge and leaned against it to turn his attention to Power一who now had a lap full of Meowy, clearly had to have been ruffled by the morning ruckus and sauntered out of their bedroom.

“Power,” Aki started. She nodded in his direction, still stuffing her face. “We’re still good on breakfast一he’s not just ‘going to the store,’ is he?” He wondered aloud, sighing at the thought of Denji pulling some shit.

“Yes, see!” she jabbed a finger in the air, “He’s up to something. Something... I can assume is very stupid.” Then Power just pets a purring Meowy as Aki shakes his head at it all.

Geez, that was close, Denji thought as he strolled down the sidewalk. It was getting real tiring having to think excuses pertaining to various foods they did or didn’t have. Many apologies and more to his family, but he couldn’t let them know the reason why he had those excuses for where he was going一especially not Power, god, he’d probably never hear the end of it.

Oh, what was the reason exactly?

He has a crush.

That’s right, the reason why he began waking up early in the morning and trying to make sure not a single hair was out of place一well, in his own unique way一was because someone is after Denji’s heart. And he’d so let them take it if they pleased.

One day when it was actually his duty to do some shopping, at this little grocery store a few blocks down from his apartment, is where he met you.

He was only there to gather the items on the short list that Aki handed over to him that morning, but when you stepped up next to him while he was eying two freaky looking fish, and the shy offer for assistance flew out of your mouth, he found himself a bit touched.

“But you don’t even work here, though?” was what he said back then, now eying you.

“Do I have to work here in order to help out some clearly indecisive guy?” The little chuckle that you ended your rebuttal with was unfortunately cute enough that it made his heart jump in his chest. When you leaned over to help him pick the better fish, his heart was absolutely drumming at how close you were and how easily his hand could slip into yours.

He didn’t say a single word of complaint when you offered to help him finish up his shopping; he just let his cheeks burn a bright pink while he trailed behind you with two baskets and hearts for eyes.

After that day, every other week or so he’d pop up at the store, yearning to see you, while also juggling his best attempts to make his appearances look normal and coincidental.

It was a flawless plan in his mind. Every day you two seemed to be getting closer and closer; then soon, he couldn’t deny the hope that lingered.

Even if it should’ve been embarrassing一considering how easily he fell for you after only meeting a handful of times. But he couldn’t really find it in himself to give a fuck.

Denji smiled proudly, maybe he could finally get to do all the things couples do with you.

Meanwhile the blond was gushing, it didn't occur to him that had already arrived at the store until he heard that familiar bell’s jingle giving him the signal.

Then he let his eyes wander, searching the store trying to pick you out of the bustling crowd of shoppers. He stumbled upon right when he almost missed you; you were crouched down by a vending machine, mashing away at the buttons.

With a little bit of pep in his step, he made a b-line for you.

“Good mornin’, [name].” Denji jostled the keys in his pocket when he tried to wave. You looked up at the approach and softly smiled at him. “Hi there, Denji. You doing some shopping again?” you made casual conversation as you were inserting money into the slot. Pink dusted his cheeks as he immediately responded with no, in his head. But in real life he stuck with a shy confirmation and told you that he just needed some cereal.

But as you were prepared to say something else, you were interrupted by two bags of chips spilling out of the bottom.

“Holy shit, what did you do?” Denji was cackling at the surprise you exuded.

“I don’t even fucking know,” you chuckled, pushing yourself up from the ground. “But how perfect is this?” the smile on your face was too warm, too soft, he almost ignored the next words that came out of your mouth.

“One for me, and one for you, Denji.”

You held out a bag for him and he stared in disbelief.

“You’re... gonna share with me?” He hesitantly reached for the bag, awaiting your next answer.

Still smiling you told him exactly what he wanted to hear, “I’ll always split stuff with people I like. Obviously.”

Obviously, you said. You also said that he’s one of the people you like. Obviously.

He was so glad it was obvious to you because he clearly missed a chapter or two一but he didn’t care, this was what he was hoping for the entire time. Maybe he’s got it.

“[Name]...” Denji called as you were already munching on your bag of chips. You immediately caught his eye, humming as you wait for the moment the boy was ready to speak.

“I... I just want ya to know that I really, really like you.” The blond laid his heart out on the table. “And I wanna date you and一nd take you out someday...?” He squeezed his eyes shut and focused on the chatter of civilians the longer you kept quiet. And he was actually so ready to bolt out of the store right about now if this goes down a road he hadn’t hoped for.

But there you go, exceeding his expectations again.

“I know,” is what you said.

Denji’s eyes snapped open at that and you laughed at the shock written all over his face.

“You know? Wha一Whaddya mean you knew?” Because of the shock, Denji’s voice also was getting louder so you took his hand and led him outside to avoid any suspicious eyes. Though you were laughing along the way, Denji was angry pouting as he tried to shush you.

Calming down a bit, you stuttered out apologies before confessing. “I’m sorry, Denji, but it’s not like you tried to hide it or anything一” his mouth fell open. “I coulda sworn I was being subtle!” That was one of his most natural build ups for a confession, like, ever.

“You have the subtlety of a puppy,” you covered your face as you snort. “But that’s okay because it’s one of the things I like about you.” He flushed red underneath your teasing gaze.

“So... ya really do like me then?” Denji didn’t take his eyes off of you this time. This new smile of yours formed cute little crinkles around your eyes and he thinks it’s one of his favorites.

“If I say yes, would you be my boyfriend?” The sly question had Denji’s heart doing flips. He’d love nothing more than to wear the title of your boyfriend and to have you as his.

So he answered with a kiss.

✶ notes! › i actually completed this holy mf shit i did not have hope. i still think it’s literally too long for my original plan but whatever i’m kinda happy with what i came up with.

[mochiwrites]

I oh so desperately need to tel you this.

modern au where scar is a famous person (think actor, model, etc) or something, and everyone in that world is like “omg I’m not immune to the goodtimes” because they all think he’s attractive and or charismatic

Grian is just some guy. He’s just a guy trying to live his life. He just so happens to not like Mr. Scar Goodtimes, and his friends are always like “yeah sure. But you’ve never met him..” (u can probably see where this is going) but Grian is stubborn and is like “even if I met him I wouldn’t like him”

THEN, for whatever reason (idk the specifics but I’d be happy to think/explain more if u like it, and u can always add onto this au urself) Scar and Grian meet. Really, they meet quite frequently. Could be because of job, just coincidence, maybe on purpose, etc etc. And oh, would ya look at that… Grian is NOT as immune to the goodtimes as he thought — and constantly said — he was.

But this won’t stop Grian. he’s so adamant about proving he is, in fact, immune to the Goodtimes (even if he’s very much NOT) because he wants to brag to his friends that he’s correct. shenanigans ensue

YESSSS I LOVE STORYLINES LIKE THIS!!!!!

grian and scar work SO perfectly for this considering their entire dynamic and personalities and !!!!!!!

I think scar should be a famous actor or model and he's very much used to giving people a charming smile and watching them swoon. and grian is just. Not into it ( from a distance :3 ) and I'm thinking of grian as a designer because that'd be cool, and it'd make for perfect set up to get the two of them to meet >:3

the two of them meet -- perhaps because grian is set up to handle clothing design or something -- and scar plays up his charisma and he's expecting grian to get flustered (he wants grian to. because he immediately thinks grian is cute and he's already down bad ty) but grian doesn't get flustered and scar is. shocked.

little does scar know that grian is flustered but he's very good at hiding it and he's dying as he has to take scar's measurements because scar does not stop talking and the man is walking charisma and he won't stop flirting with grian please let him do his job--

but if anyone asks afterward grian denies being flustered. I think grian's friends should try and set him and scar up because it'd be funny

[ultimaratiovaccinium]

"Do you... enjoy this?"

Shit.

I need to deflect, but when I open my mouth, all that comes out is a low moan. I feel so... massive. I can barely think.

"The first time, I was just worried about you. The second time... I just thought it was a weird coincidence. But now," she gestures at all of me with both hands. It's a big gesture. "Three times feels like more than coincidence."

She's not wrong. I've got to say something.

"I've known other people who've gotten blown up, you know? And after they get... you know, fixed, they've- they've all developed phobias, or left town, or gone through really intense therapy. But you," she says, placing a palm on my exposed belly, "have been completely unfazed. You just keep coming back for more."

My skin feels electric where she touches me. Everything is so full and tight, every little brush of breeze against my exposed skin is searing pleasure. I moan again, and she whips her hand away like she'd laid it on a hot stove.

"Sorry! I know I shouldn't be so casual about this. I should really call someone to come help you." She starts patting her pockets looking for her phone. "Sorry," she says again, then she stops. She looks back up at me.

"Should I even call for help? I should, right?"

Is that even a question?

"But what if you just do this again?"

Ouch. I've been lax, I guess, but I haven't been doing this on purpose! I mean... I have thought about it, but... it hasn't been intentional.

I think.

"It just takes up my time. The medical crew's time. Company resources." She looks conflicted. "Maybe I should just leave you like this."

Oh.

I try to plead my case, deny it, but all that comes out is a halfhearted "Nnnnnnnnnn-" before she cuts me off again. I'm just too full to speak.

"I could have you transferred to taste-testing," she muses. "Putting up with weird shit is, like, their whole job description." She starts dialing on her phone. Someone answers promptly.

"Hey, you'll never guess what happened again. Yeah, again again. Third time. Yup, big enough to roll, for sure."

She absentmindedly pats my belly with her free hand, like I'm some sort of bad boy you could fit so many things in. It's thrilling, that small touch. I nearly lose it, right then and there. Thankfully though, she remembers I'm a person just in time to give me an apologetic look before clearing her throat and returning to her call.

"Can you see if R&D has any openings for a QA Consultant? I know, right? All my ideas are good ideas. She's clearly more interested in being a giant balloon full of wasted product than an accountant."

I guess she's not wrong.

"No, no need for a trip to the squeezer. Put a note in her file that she's only to be reduced if she asks for it explicitly. Maybe have them bring a safe-suit, too. Hm?"

She looks me up and down. It's a long, curious look.

"No idea what size. Big. Really, really big. Yeah. One of the ones with the belt. Mhm. Yeah, she's not exactly naked, but... yeah, let's not give HR anything to complain about. Right. Yes, I'll follow up with her landlord and emergency contacts as needed. Yup. Thanks. See ya."

She turns back to me. She takes another long look, and then sighs.

"Congratulations on your promotion," she says, with a weird mixture of sincerity and irony. "We'll obviously miss you in Finance, but we're happy that you'll be rolling onward to bigger opportunities."

Oh good, she's got jokes.

"Sorry, sorry, I shouldn't make fun. Company policy is to treat this as a medical emergency, so I'll be staying with you until help arrives."

She checks her phone again.

"If you want, I can come visit you once you get settled in? I know I've always been happy to see friendly faces amidst all the strangeness of a new job."

She looks up at me again, sadly this time.

"I was looking forward to getting to know you better, you know? I noticed how you started dressing differently after your first... incident. HR would probably have something to say about how much I was... noticing. I thought maybe you were trying to get away from the trauma by being more poised and put-together."

She kicks her heels off and slides down the wall until she's sitting, obscured by the curve of my body.

"Oh well. Probably better for everyone that I didn't start hitting on a coworker."

Wait.

"Especially not one who keeps finding excuses to swell up until she's spherical," she adds, wearily.

Fair.

"I really should have seen this coming, shouldn't I? I mean, you've been touring the factory floor on your lunch break weekly. That's on me, I guess."

She hops back to her feet. "I think I hear the Medical folks." She brushes her skirt out, and looks me in the eyes one last time. "Hey, listen... I'll see you a-round."

She smiles and rolls her eyes at her own terrible pun, and walks away.

[outlaw-apologist]

The Gang Catching Feelings For You (RDR2)

The gang catching feelings for you! (Mostly GN) Characters: Arthur, Charles, Trelawny, Hosea, Micah Warnings: Micah’s story contains mentions of gender Note: This one was written for @onceuponadie sorry it took me forever to bang this out. :’) AO3 Version Arthur At first you thought you might be annoying Arthur. He always seemed really awkward when you tried to help out or when you stopped him to make sure his satchel was filled with new supplies before he left camp. Arthur becomes stiff when you’re around. Half of the time he could hardly hold eye contact. It made you feel bad. You were only trying to make his tasks easier. Everyone always had such huge expectations of Arthur. No one cared if there was enough stew leftover for him when he returned to camp, or if the supplies were rationed out to him. You took notice of this quickly, their behavior was beyond you. The man doing the most work for the gang should be supported.

“Thank ya’ kindly.” He usually responded whenever he caught you in the act, tipping his hat down to cover his eyes. It wasn’t in a rude way… just… awkward. It was hard to decode exactly how he felt about it and you assumed he’d speak up if he wanted you to stop and so you kept on doing your thing. You hadn’t seen Arthur in a few days. According to Hosea he went out hunting to replenish the camp’s food supply. Not something unusual. The day was lovely, naturally you decided you wanted to get away from the gang for awhile – in need of some serious space and fresh air – and help out by bringing something in. Fishing sounded nice! Not so close by, as you didn’t want anyone bothering you. You took your horse to a beautiful area you had heard so much about. Cumberland Falls. What you didn’t expect was to see a familiar outlaw fussing with his horse near the bank of the Dakota River. You slowed your horse to a walk, heading his way. Arthur’s voice carried was over the water in the cold spring breeze. “You’re alright girl. Just let me take a look at it. Easy now-” “Is she alright?” You called out. Arthur’s head snapped up and he gave a shrug. “Got ambushed by some O’Driscoll boys. Shot her leg pretty good. Hope she don’t go lame on me.” You could hear the upset in Arthur’s voice even as he tried to act casual. He had a close bond with his horse, something you had always admired. Dismounting your own, you rummaged through your satchel while approaching him. “Here- this might help until we can get her looked at.” You gently pushed a bottle of horse tonic into his palm. Arthur was slow to take it, interlocking your fingers together as he wrapped his much larger hand around the glass bottle. His eyes were on yours, gaze electric and intense. “Thank you.” His voice wasn’t shy this time. He wasn’t turning away from you as he usually did. “You look exhausted.” Your words were gentle, not meaning any offense. “Take my horse, I’ll lead yours so you can rest.” “That’s really not necessary-” Arthur trailed off as you took the reigns from him. He could tell there was no room for argument here. With a small grunt he turned to give his horse the tonic. In truth, Arthur was feeling pretty upset about his horse. Maybe it was the stress of everything. The weight of Backwater on his shoulders. His mind was racing yet, calm, at the same time. How was that possible? He didn’t know. The only other time he felt that way was with Mary. But you? Your actions were so genuine. It made him feel… better. Unexpectedly this was hard for him to accept. Why was someone treating him with so much empathy? Maybe you pitied him, an old man that had no value outside of stealing and shooting for dollars. However, he thinks he understands now. It wasn’t pity. Pity doesn’t make someone manifest from thin air when he wishes they were there. And yeah, it probably was coincidence this time, but damn did it feel natural. It felt… right… As if you two were being drawn to each other like magnets. You see him for who he is and you accept him no questions asked. “Somehow… You always know where to find me when I need you. What would I do without you?” “I guess we’ll never know.” Arthur’s stomach fluttered with butterflies when you flashed him that brilliant smile of yours. Maybe it was time for him to move on and find love again. ___ Charles You liked Charles. Being around him was peaceful. He, like you, enjoys the serenity that comes with nature; and so you two were often found in proximity of each other working on your respective crafts or doing a quiet activity while taking in the day. You didn’t know much about each other. He was a quiet man and you… well, you tried not to talk about yourself unless asked. Over time you observed things about him. It was hard not to. Charles is a dedicated man. Always would his brow furrow when concentrating on his work. He would give a little grunt of victory whenever something came out particularly good that he was proud of. You noticed he would stop to admire a beautiful feather on the ground, or an interesting rock. If animals wondered by your hang-out Charles would put down his work to watch them with a small smile. Fondness for Charles began to grow in your heart. You had feelings for Charles first. You never said or did anything to convey this, of course. It was hard to tell how Charles felt about you and… You know he wouldn’t be unkind towards you if he knew, but you didn’t think he’d feel the same way. Instead you carried on as normal. As time went on this became a little difficult. Every time someone in camp had something to say about him, you were either defending Charles or singing his praises. Not obnoxiously so, but enough to make a few of the gang members suspicious. Despite an odd look here and there, no one said a word. Not even Charles himself. Charles too had wondered at times what your words would mean when you would tell Bill to shut up because Charles was the best hunter they had. Or when you would threaten Micah’s life whenever it looked like he was about to say a slur. It couldn’t be- right? Charles knew he made himself too boring and unassuming… You were probably just being a good friend. “Hey Charles.” You greeted, sitting beside him by the fire in front of Shady Bell. “I know this really isn’t your thing but I have a lead in Saint Denis and I… Well, I need a husband so I can get into this party.” You flashed a shy but goofy grin. “Find someone else.” You blinked in surprise. You knew it probably wasn’t personal but his cold reaction did sting a little. “C’mon.” You gently nudged him. “It’s not really my thing. I don’t think I can help you.” “I know, but I need someone who’ll keep their head. I don’t trust the others not to ruin it.” Charles turned to study your face. You didn’t usually go on jobs like this, nor did you normally ask for help. The mission must have been worth it. “Alright, let’s go.” Charles looked stunning. Trelawny called in a favor from someone in the city and was able to pull together extravagant outfits for the both of you. Charles tied his hair back and… damn did the man clean up well. It was unnatural seeing him this way. It didn’t suit him at all, you loved his usual look more than anything. But hey- you could admire Prince Charles for one evening. Heads turned as you both walked into the small garden party. It wasn’t anything over the top. Mostly it was rich women chatting together. You had met them previously and pretended you were married to a rich man in an attempt to gain access into their society. It worked… A little too well. They were eager to meet your husband. Charles was certainly not who they had expected. “Oh-” One of the women’s faces fell. Judgment danced in their eyes. “You’re married to…” Her mouth opened and closed. Immediately you spoke up before something unsavory was said. “This is my darling husband Charles Wilson.” “Mr. Wilson” A younger woman extended her hand for Charles to kiss. “Y/N tells us you’re quite the talented agricultural tycoon.” “Is that so?” Charles shot you an amused look. “I try to be humble but in plain terms, you can say that.” “How wonderful it is a man of your stature could be so… influential.” “Oh come now Mrs. Jones. I’d love to hear all about it. Our husbands aren’t half as interesting.” A third lady giggled. You gave Charles an apologetic look. You hated leaving him here but the thousands of dollars worth of jewelry weren’t going to steal its self. “I’m afraid, ladies, I feel a bit ill today. May I excuse myself?” “Of course, dear. We’ll keep your husband company. The powder room is upstairs to your left.” You slipped in and out easy enough. The jewelry wasn’t hard to find. Upon returning you rejoined everyone. Charles did look a bit bored and you could only imagine what these women were saying to your sweet handsome husband. “Thank you.” You turned to Charles as you both left for the night.  He had an arm wrapped around you, supporting his ‘ill’ partner. “I know they were terrible and I feel bad for dragging you into this.” “Not at all. I’m used to it. It doesn’t help that I’m not exactly husband material.” Charles tried to make fun of himself to lighten the mood but it only made you feel heavier. “Don’t say that.” You squeezed his shoulder. “That’s not true at all.” Maybe it was the drinks you had at the party, but suddenly you just couldn’t keep it in anymore. “Charles you are one of the gentlest people I’ve ever met. You’re compassionate and considerate. You’re so appreciative of everything around you. You don’t speak much but when you do you’re so damn articulate. I could listen to you talk for days and days and still be in awe of how brilliant your mind is. You’re just…” You ran your fingers through your hair while sucking in a sobering breath.  “So beautiful. And handsome, but that’s a story for another time.” A nervous laugh erupted from your lips. You probably went too far this time. “It’s an honor being seen next to you.” Thick awkward silence blanked the evening for the longest time. How could he respond to something like that? It sounded…. It sounded as though you genuinely liked him? “You really mean that?” Charles’ voice was filled with doubt. You were probably only saying those things because you felt bad for putting him in such a position. Though, it was nice to hear someone point out good things about his character and not just what he was useful for. No one had ever said anything like that to him before. It made his heart skip a beat. “I do.” Charles hummed with happiness. He believed you. “I’ll be your husband again. Maybe not for a party of rich white people, but we make a pretty couple. I’m sure we can find a way.” His gaze met yours fondly. Maybe one day being your husband won’t be an act but a reality. ___ Micah “There you are dead-weight.” You could have groan as the voice of none other than Micah Bell reached your ears. You were having a nice afternoon reading in the trees not far from camp. Ever since the gang left Colter Micah’s been on your back – for whatever reason – and it was getting on your last nerve. Dead-weight was his new favorite thing to call you. If it wasn’t that then it was probably ‘piglet’. You eat Pearson’s stew at camp around him one time and he was enraged because you ‘didn’t do enough to earn it’. He wasn’t every creative. It wasn’t that you didn’t pull your weight, because you did. You’re a real hard worker. But you also value your alone time and Micah… Well, he caught onto that real quick. Every damn time you wandered off for a moment to yourself he managed to find you one way or another. You were at the end of your rope. “Shouldn’t you be makin’ yourself useful? Go make money on your back or somethin’ like the other girls.” You looked up at him over your book while he scoffed at you. All you could do was snort in amusement. “Maybe you should go make money on your back, Micah. Though, I can’t imagine anyone would want to fuck your grimey unwashed ass.” Micah’s face twisted up in both confusion and rage. How dare you insinuate something so… Queer? So disgusting? He didn’t know what to say and you watched as he struggled to come up with a response. “I bring in the money, I don’t wash the clothes.” “And what money have you brought in?” Your voice was calm and measured. “Only Arthur and I’ve been bringing in the big bucks.” “I’ve been out workin’ real jobs that’ll bring in more than you and cowpoke have scrounged up in weeks.” You simply shut your book. “Sure you are, shit-ass.” Oh- a huge smile crossed your face. That’s what you’ll call him for now on.   Micah seemed to catch on, realization flashing across his face. He suddenly threw his head back with a hearty laugh. Never had he thought you’d return his energy. Not many people did. Arthur probably would but that man was beat into the ground and no fun in his opinion. But you? Hilarious! “I like that. I’ll remember that next time.” He loved it. He picked on you because he wanted to stare at your ass while you work around camp. He didn’t like it when his entertainment left his sight. To be honest Micah didn’t think anything would develop between the two of you. He considered you just as pathetic as Molly… But now… Maybe you did have a bite to you. An inkling of suspicion crept into your thoughts when you caught the joy in his eyes. Oh god- this was just the beginning. Micah was going to have his fun. ___ Josiah Josiah couldn’t help himself. He had to flirt with everything and anything he found beautiful. You were no exception. He didn’t expect anything to come of it. Nothing ever did. You laughed at his magic tricks and scolded him whenever you and Arthur had to get him out of trouble. You were just… Ordinary in his life. Like anyone else. You liked Josiah well enough. The two of you would talk about a show you’ve seen or a book you’ve read. However, you found yourself drawn to him as if there were a magnetic field pulling you in. Whenever Josiah would pop back up or walk into camp you seemed to jump up and greet him before anyone else could. Immediately you’d ask him how he was or where he’s been. Josiah thought it was amusing the first few times. You must have felt bad because no one else really cares if he’s there or not. “What’ve you been up to Mr. Trelawny?” You ask every time, leaning forward with an interested smile. He enjoyed you humoring him. “Well my dear, you see, there were these wolves-” always would he reply with some fabricated story with half-truths. You didn’t seem to mind. When Josiah had his face smashed in by bounty hunters in Rhodes the sting of embarrassment was greater than the pain. All because of you. It felt almost humiliating, letting you see him that way. Half expecting you to scold him or roll your eyes like usual, he was shocked as you gently took his chin and turned his head so you could examine him. “Does it hurt?” “Don’t worry about me, dear friend.” “You didn’t answer the question.” You pursed your lips in frustration. Josiah ran a hand through his hair. He squirmed under your concerned gaze, not used to gentle eyes being turned his way. It was weird. Truly strange. You carefully wiped the blood from his face and for once Josiah remained silent. Had you genuinely cared for him this whole time? His heart fluttered… Maybe… It’s silly to think, in his mind, but just maybe… He could start caring for you in the same way. ___ Hosea You follow Hosea around like a puppy at times. If a job had to be done, you were right there with Arthur to company him.  Fishing? Your pole would be out with bait on the hook or you’d sit beside him with a book in hand. You simply wanted to enjoy peace of his presence as he fished. It wasn’t annoying by any means. You’re not loud or presumptuous about it and it seemed as if you always knew exactly when he needed alone time or when he wanted space. Hosea enjoyed it. His boys were all grown and doing their own thing. Everyone now saw him as an old man. For awhile he did jobs on his own. Seeing who’s house he could slip into to make their pockets hurt. Now? He had a partner in crime who always understood his vision. It was fantastic! You two swap books when you’re done reading them and talk in length about philosophy. There was a certain deepness to your relationship. At first, Hosea saw you as a kindred spirit. You were someone who matched him like a puzzle piece. He spilled all of his heartaches to you as well as his hopes and dreams. Bessie was a big one. He’d speak of her when the gang was huddled around the fire at times. But there were things he couldn’t tell anyone. Not even Dutch who understood the loss of a woman he loved. When Hosea gave in, letting the emotions and memories of his dearly departed beloved spill from his lips like knocked over ink, you listened carefully. Offering empathy in ways Hosea didn’t even know he needed. In return he listened to your own heavy thoughts, offering his arms to cry in when needed. The whole gang knew about you and Hosea before you and Hosea figured it out for yourselves. “I think we should also bring Y/N to the party.” Hosea proposed in the midst of hashing out details from the mayor of Saint Denis. “Of course you do.” Ditch rolled his eyes, causing Hosea to cross his arms offensively. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “C’mon, look at’cha. I haven’t seen you like this in a long time, Hosea. Just ask them out already.” Hosea’s moth opened in protest but no words escaped. It took several seconds for Dutch’s words to properly click. All he could do was lean back against his chair. “You don’t think it’s too late for me?” His old friend shot him a weary smile. “It’s never too late for love.” For once Dutch was right. Hosea hummed to himself, conjuring a picture of the two of you together as an official couple. It did feel right. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

[sehtoast]

Tender Threads CH2 ( Homelander x OC )

chapter two: signed and sealed

chapter directory | slow burn, hurt/comfort, fluff, spidersona as original character, original trans male character, smut, sublander

summary: benjamin knows full well he's out there, watching and waiting, even doing a little breaking and entering. homelander is simply biding his time until he gets his way.

Benjamin’s personal life had always been a simple one.  With little to no time to truly be, there wasn’t much drama to get mixed up in– well, there used to be.  Back when he tried to have the best of both worlds, there was… a lot.  Failed relationships, friends walking out on him, family shunning him for his absences, unreliability, and perceived short temper that was truly just pure exhaustion.  It was one hell of a cocktail, but sometimes the loneliness was worse.  It was hard to see the few people who still talked to him, and harder still to make time to call his folks, but somehow those relationships survived.

Worse yet was his track record with jobs.  Delivery boy was optimal given his particular skill set, but showing up on time with every little disturbance was beyond difficult.  Table waiting jobs were even worse, and he’d lost a fair few.  These days he supplements income with side photography while primarily working an IT job at a small tech firm that he probably wouldn’t have gotten without a friend putting in a good word.

Moving to New York with his best friend from college was a decision he wouldn’t undo, but it wasn’t without its strife.  If not for his friend, good ol’ Jason Ortega, Ben would’ve fallen through the cracks so many times. Eventually they split from their cozy roommate situation after Jase got a girlfriend, but there were no hard feelings.  In fact, he was the only person in the world who knew about Ben’s little secret.

The two worlds of Benjamin's life were starting to collide bit by bit.

“You met Homelander!" 

“Shh! Not so loud!”  Ben stresses, eyes wide.  They’re on their first coinciding lunch break in a while, and they'd decided to pop a few blocks down to a sub shop for their first hangout in damn near three weeks.  “Yeah, just–”

“And you worked with him, right?” Jason asks, leaning forward eagerly, food all but totally forgotten.  “That’s what all the articles are saying.”

“No, I–” Benjamin releases a heavy sigh.  He knows about those.  It’d been two weeks since Homelander propositioned him, and… well. 

It had been an interesting two weeks.

“It wasn’t like that.”  Ben says, mind wandering back…

Bodega Burglary Botched!  Spidey and Homelander Team Up, had been Vought News Network’s big headline of the day the morning after the confrontation in the alley.  Ben pretty much choked on his bowl of Maeve-O’s when the segment ran on his TV.  

“Boy, I’ll tell ya,” Homelander said, smiling perfectly for the camera.  “That Spider-Man is exactly what we need in The Seven.  After last night, I really do see why people say he looks out for the little guy.”

Ben must have looked quite the sight standing there in his boxers, spoon dangling from his mouth. Did he have bedhead or was his hair just showing how absolutely fucking insane he felt in the moment? 

“I can’t think of anyone better to fill Translucent’s shoes.  So, Spidey, if you’re seeing this: you’ve got my vote buddy!”

“You mother fucker…” Ben murmured.  This was a power play unlike anything he could’ve imagined.  This wasn’t just for PR– though it definitely was.  This was a way to turn the public onto the idea.  To make sure the wall crawler would be reminded of the offer everywhere he went.  

Which is precisely what happened.  And now it was happening in his personal life, which was even worse.  Not that Jase knew the fine details of what had happened, but…

“Man, Vought’s been hounding me for a while now.”  He explains.  “And now they sent the big dog.” 

Ben takes a moment, voice hushed, to tell Jason about all that had happened.  About how intimidating the whole thing was, how Homelander practically looked right through him, how he fucking name-dropped him despite every length the bug has gone to keep his identity a secret.

“You wanna know what else?”  Ben asks, glancing from side to side.  “I think he’s fucking stalking me.”

“Dude…” 

“Yeah, so get this…”

He spares no details.

It started off small.  Simple fly-by’s, flickers of red, white, and blue in the sky zipping by at the most random of times.  At first, it seemed like something weird in his peripherals, but then Benjamin learned to look up.  He made eye contact three days after first noticing his stalker while walking into work, and he’s not sure if that made Homelander more bold but he definitely did get worse.

Benjamin could’ve coped with the stalking. In fact, he was almost getting used to it, but then he went for the newly bought jug of milk in the fridge and found the seal cracked and roughly a quarter of the contents missing.

The lack of cup in the sink had him pouring the contents down the drain because that bastard clearly drank from the jug.  After that, subtlety went clear out the fucking door.

Ben’s apartment isn’t the neatest thing on planet Earth, but he prides himself on keeping up with his laundry.  His closet was organized, shoes kicked into a slobbishly-neat pile in said closet, and his underwear drawer was folded to perfection.

So why in the world were his boxer briefs unrolled from their tight, military-esque fold?  Why is his acoustic guitar on the stand where the electric normally sits?  

And why the fuck is the bed he made that morning now unmade and very obviously laid in?

Homelander had crossed a line.  This wasn't just some light stalking and intimidation, this was a Goldy Locks level violation of his privacy and space, and Ben didn’t know if it was going to end up so bad someday that he'd wake up to the fucker standing in the corner like some patriotic version of the hat man.

“And it’s still happening,” he tells Jason.  His best friend stares at him wide eyed with his mouth parted in disbelief. 

“Man, I hope you changed your toothbrush…”  He says.

“Fuck… No, but I will later, I–”  

A ringing from Jason’s phone breaks their banter and signals the end of their break.  Ben takes the opportunity to grab his own phone and type a message to him.  Eyes up when we leave.  Don’t react to this.

They pay and leave.  Sure as the sun rises in the morning, on the edge of the roof across the street stands Homelander, who smirks down at them, clearly having used that super hearing of his to listen in.

“Woah…” Jase utters.

Ben simply keeps his eyes up, watching closely as the star spangled supe gives an informal salute and takes off.

“Dude…” Jason says.  “That’s fucked.”

Yeah, Ben thinks to himself. I’m fucked.

By the end of the third week, Ben’s absolutely had it.  He can feel Homelander’s eyes piercing through the walls of his apartment building.  In fact, Benjamin knows right where he’s sitting.  He’d been laying in bed relaxing before his usual run through the city.

He hates to admit it, but… he’s given some thought to the offer.  Moral objections aside, he could make a real difference at Vought.  Plus, there’s the opportunity to try to change it from the inside out.  Maybe leak some information here or there…

Nothing he’s vocalized, of course.  He’d never risk Homelander hearing something and come barreling through the wall to laser him in two for even considering it.

But enough was enough.  These little interferences in his life weren’t going to stop, it seemed, unless he did something about it.  Ben swings his legs off the side of the bed and stares down at where his suit lays in a pile on the floor.  There was no sense in even putting the fucking mask on.  Homelander can see through it anyway.  He knows who he is, where he lives…  The jig is up as far as secrecy with Homelander goes, if there was even any to begin with.

Ben walks to the window and peers out.  Just as he predicted, Homelander is stood on the building across the street, looking almost amused at the bug’s knowledge of his location.

“Get over here,” Ben says.  He knows Homelander can hear it.  “For once, you’re being invited inside.”  With that, he opens the window.

What the fuck am I doing, Ben thinks to himself.  Fuck, I should’ve gone out, not let him in.  Fuck, fuck fuck…

It’s a curious thing to watch Homelander float through the window perfectly horizontal.  It never occurred to Ben that flying supes could do that so easily…

“Benjamin,” Homelander greets.  “Nice of you to finally extend the offer.”

The bug plops down on the edge of his bed, gesturing to his desk chair for Homelander to sit.  It’s almost comedic to watch him swish his cape out of the way to do so.

“Y’know, I can cope with you stalking me,” Ben says, getting right to the point.  “But rifling through my drawers is overdoing it.”

Homelander smiles, and it’s almost scary to see him so close in such an intimate environment.  Outside, he’s practically god.  In here he’s… scary in a different way.  Especially when Ben notices just how sharp his canines are.

“Couldn’t help it, Benny.  Besides, you’ve got some interesting things.”  Homelander turns in the chair just slightly to rap his gloved knuckles against the top drawer of Ben’s nightstand.  “Especially in here, you dirty boy.”

Ben’s cheeks flare red immediately.  Fuck, he hadn’t even considered–

“You are interesting, I’ll tell ya.” Homelander continues.  “You’re so fucking ordinary, and yet you’re about to be in The Seven.  Nothin’ to you besides that do-good moral compass of yours and some spandex.”

“What do you mean, ‘about to,’” Ben asks incredulously.  “I haven’t agreed to anything.”

Homelander gives him a smile so sinister that it practically takes a bite out of his resolve.  “Oh, I know.  But you’re going to once we’re done here, trust me.”

Ben cocks a brow.  “... explain.”

“Not yet.” 

Homelander leans to the side and snags one of those guitars he was clearly very familiar with.  “You’re a peculiar little thing, you know that?”  He says, finger plucking awkwardly at a nylon string that damn near snaps under his strength.  It makes Ben cringe a little.  “You’re so full of anxiety I can practically smell it on you, but you still have the balls to tell me no.  You’re pretty much a shut in as...” Homelander gestures vaguely to Ben to describe his secret identity.  “But then you’re such a social butterfly.  Thought you might’ve just had a thing for being stared at in spandex, but you’re quite the little ray of sunshine in the leotard.”

“I–”

Homelander holds up a finger.

“And you’re so fucking sad, little Benjamin.”  

What..? 

“You’re lonely.  Just that one buddy of yours and that strained relationship with good ol’ mom and dad… plus that cousin or whatever the boy is.”  Homelander plucks the lowest string, a deep open note reverberating through the body of the instrument.  “But you’re so sad, crying at night like you do.”

But I haven’t– 

“I can tell what you’re thinking… You haven’t had a bad night in a few weeks.”  Homelander says nonchalantly.  “What, you think I wasn’t scoping you out before that night in the alley?  Please.  I know you down to the fucking lube you use at this rate.”

“What the f–”

“Astroglide, by the way.”  He says, wiggling his brows.  “You want that spider-high you get when you’re swinging around to be permanent?  Quit your little desk job, stop being a pussy, and join my team.  Go have time to live your personal life– I don’t fucking care– just do the right thing.”

Ben’s gaze falls and he picks at his fingers.  Fucker found the sore spot and was using it to his full advantage.

“Don’t look so sad, Benny boy.  I’m offering you the relief you’ve been looking for, aren’t I?”  Homelander smiles almost genuinely.  “So exhausted all the time, too.  When was the last time you got eight hours, huh?  I’ve seen the way that little tingle in your head wakes you up all the time.  Plus all those late nights… you must be so burnt out.”

“Shut up…” Ben tries, but it comes out more sad than he means for it to.  He hates how fucking right Homelander is.

“Friends, family, rest… No more rent struggles…” Homelander sets the instrument down and turns toward Ben.  “You know what else?”  He asks, voice almost sweet.  When Ben looks at him, he grins.  “Ma and Pa will thank you when I don’t drop an oil tanker on them from orbit.”

Ben’s blood runs cold.

“Yeah, I flew by a day ago.  Nice little suburban house in Annville, right?  Pops has a nice red truck.”

No, no, no– fuck– 

“Be a shame if they had to suffer because of you, wouldn’t it?”

Benjamin sits stock still, his only movements being shakes of fear and anger.  How fucking dare he?  How dare he hold something so–

“Like I said, you will be joining The Seven.  And, if you do, no harm will come to mom and pop– I promise.” 

He knows he has no choice now.

“So, little Benjamin,” Homelander says, rising from the chair.  “What’ll it be?”

As if he has any choice.

“Fine…”

“Oh,” Homelander cocks a brow.  “What was that?  I think I need you to be a little louder.”

“Fine,” Ben says, more conviction in his voice this time.  

“Say it.  The whole thing.” Homelander demands, smile growing even wider.  “You’re gonna join The Seven.”

“I’m…” Ben sighs.  “I’m going to join The Seven.”

“Attaboy!” Homelander chirps, clapping his gloved hands together.  “Alright, buddy, get some shoes on and let's get you to the tower for your big signing day!  Did I mention you get a sign-on bonus?  Pretty killer, right?”

Dejectedly, Ben stands from the bed and slips his shoes on.

He supposes he’ll be signing his contract in his pajamas.

[avenirdelight]

When You’re Not Looking

Mason Mount (ft. Declan Rice)

Mason has a crush on England's photographer. But he feels like she has become distant, never hangs out with him anymore and never takes his photos. Declan says that there's only one way to find out why. [Requested]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MASON!❤️

Mason heard a snort, and that was what stopped him from doing what he was doing. He’d just done a set on the bench press and was about to do one more. He turned his head around and saw a judging Declan approaching.

“What?” He shot Declan, who had snorted at him, a rather sharp look. 

“You’re not gonna give up, are ya, mate? Still trying to get her attention?” Declan mocked. He turned his head towards the basketball court across the gym hall, Mason couldn’t stop himself from doing the same.

She was there with her camera, taking photos of Raheem and Marcus who were having a go at basketball, killing time before they needed to go out on the pitch for training.

“Sorry, but it’s getting embarrassing now,” Declan stated. Mason quickly looked away before Declan could catch him. Mason almost felt embarrassed but he refused to show it and give Declan the satisfaction, so he shook his head instead.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just doing the bench press.”

“You think I won’t notice how you purposely do an extra set that’s completely unnecessary?”

Mason completely ignored his best friend’s question and did what he was going to do: the completely unnecessary extra set of bench press.

“Listen. We don’t know how long this camp is gonna last. It’s not like I’m hoping for us to go out soon, but you know what I mean,” Declan said. Mason could feel Declan boring his eyes into him. “What I’m trying to say is, you’re wasting chances and time. You might not get it again tomorrow.”

Mason might have looked so focused on doing the bench press but he heard everything Declan said. And as much as he wanted to ignore it, he admitted that what his best friend had said was true.

—

They were sitting down at dinner. James and Bukayo had been at the table too, they’d hung out and done some Saka’s Spelling School episodes, something Bukayo had come up with for his TikTok. The two boys had left, leaving the other two who wanted to stay for dessert.

They ate their desserts in silence. Declan was scrolling on his phone, probably reading messages from his family and friends. Mason took the opportunity to secretly glance over and over again at her, who was sitting at the table near the TV. Their tables were separated by a water fountain and plants, so he hoped that she wouldn’t catch him staring at her.

Mason had grown a crush on her—a fairly huge crush, he couldn’t deny it anymore. He forgot how or when it started. She’d been a photographer for the England team for almost a year. At some point he’d just started thinking that she was pretty, fun to be with, and he’d started to pay more attention to her. Some of the boys liked to tease her and joke around with her, and Mason always found it incredibly cute when she became shy or when she let out some cute giggles.

The problem was, lately he’d realised that she’d been strangely distant. She was always taking photos of another group, always at the other side of the room or the pitch, she was never near him. She never came to hang out anymore, at least not when he was there. At first he’d thought that it was just coincidence, but the more he paid attention, the more he was sure that she was avoiding him.

“Do you think I’d done something wrong?” Mason broke the silence. “Do you think she’s mad at me or something? Or maybe she just doesn’t like me.” The second question caught Declan’s attention and he looked up at gloomy-looking Mason.

“Listen, mate. You know I only have one answer and advice, for you, yeah?”

“‘There’s only one way to find out?’”

“Exactly.”

Mason glanced at her again and she was laughing with the other staff. His heart skipped a beat because she looked pretty with that smile on her face.

“Last week I found her alone here, editing some photos. I stopped for a moment and tried to make a conversation. She looked… Uncomfortable. Am I the problem?”

“There’s only one way to find out, Mase.”

Mason sighed and dropped his gaze to his now unappealing dessert, spinning his spoon randomly on the bowl. It seemed like Declan was also tired with indecisiveness, considering that they’d had this kind of conversation a few times before. Declan decided to get back on his phone and leave Mason alone with his troubled thoughts.

Maybe Declan was right again, that there was only one way to find out.

—

Mason decided to wake up early today. He’d seriously been paying attention, so he knew that usually, her breakfast plate would already be empty by the time he arrived at the hotel’s restaurant. He was determined to catch her, maybe have breakfast together, and ask her about the thing that had been bothering his mind.

As he predicted, she was already there, occupying the table in the corner of the room. There was barely anyone there, it definitely seemed like the perfect moment for Mason to execute his plan. He could immediately feel his nervousness building up as he picked up a plate and filled it with his usual choice of breakfast.

When she noticed him approaching her table, Mason could swear she almost choked on the water she was drinking. He greeted her with a cheerful “good morning” and she replied with the same tone.

“Why are you always here so early?”

She gave him a shy grin. “I need uh– My morning solitude. Need to uhh, compose myself first thing in the morning before facing the day.”

“May I sit here? If that doesn’t ruin your morning solitude.”

“No, of course not.” She shook her head. “Take a seat. Please.”

Mason took the empty seat in her diagonal as he figured it would be too awkward if he sat right in front of her. His heart was starting to race, but he reminded himself to keep himself calm. Last night he had made a plan since he absolutely didn’t want to scare her or anything. He’d thought about starting with a question about work.

“So… Busy day today?”

“Not really. Just the usual.” 

“I heard Beckham is coming to training today.” 

“Ah… Yeah. I think I’m gonna be assigned for him.”

“Have you met him before?”

“No, I haven’t,” she slightly shook her head before continuing to eat. Mason eyed his messy plate and started eating too.

The silence took over sooner than Mason had anticipated. Last time they’d interacted, it wasn’t as awkward. Maybe it was the setting that made it feel this way, the freaking solitude, but Mason knew that he couldn’t let the silence really settle in and make it more awkward so he needed to try to carry on.

“So… Being a photographer for England. Do you enjoy it?”

She slightly raised her eyebrows before nodding. “Yeah, of course. I love photography, I like football… And with England it’s always an amazing experience. I mean, we’re at the World Cup now. It’s insane.”

“Couldn’t agree more. And I feel like this is a very special group of people we’re working with…”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Everyone’s so, uhh…” She looked away quickly. “So nice and lovely.”

Mason’s heart dropped. She didn’t even want to look at him when she said it. Wasn’t he nice and lovely too?

Then there was silence again. There were only sounds of the hotel staff talking, the sounds from the little cooking stations in the room, and their utensils against the plates. It wasn’t going smoothly at all and he really couldn’t stand this awkwardness. 

“Hey, may I ask you a question?” Mason said before he couldn’t even stop himself. He paused and silently took a deep breath, bracing himself for whatever was coming. She was eating so she just simply nodded and shrugged. “Sorry, I absolutely don’t mean to offend you. I’m just asking because I just want to know– Uhh, I’ve been wondering if I’ve done something wrong. To you.”

She furrowed her eyebrows, not getting his statement and question.

“Lately, I’ve realised that… You never take photos of me. And… I don’t know, it just feels like it’s become so awkward and kind of weird between us.”

“What?” Her voice barely came out as a whisper. Her face was blank, Mason couldn’t read her; well, maybe he actually could but he was panicking.

“Well, maybe it’s just me but– It has kind of made me wonder what’s wrong, or like I said, if I’ve done something wrong. We used to hang out, talk, and then we didn’t.” The disappointment was clear in his voice. “You… You’ve become so distant.”

“Have I?”

“That’s how I feel. I mean, we barely interact anymore.”

“And that’s… A problem for you?”

Mason shrugged. “Yeah, kind of…”

She dropped her gaze and took her glass, drinking her water, leaving Mason’s questions unanswered. It had gotten from awkward to super awkward. Mason was starting to regret it and he realised he should’ve just brought up other things. The last win, the weather, the cats, so many things to talk about, but he couldn’t stop himself from jumping on the topic right away.

“Sorry, this must be confusing to you. I didn’t mean to–”

“No, it’s okay, I mean, I’m sorry– I didn’t know you feel that way,” she said. “So, uhh, you’re bothered that we’re not hanging out? May I ask why?”

“‘Cause I like hanging out with you. And it’s always a pleasure when we get to work together. You’re a nice and lovely person,” he said. You could easily tell that he was being sincere.

“Oh…”

They both fell silent again. Mason took a sip of his tea, hoping it would help to calm himself down but unfortunately he only got more and more nervous with each passing second. He had no idea of what she was thinking or what she was going to say. Maybe this was a mistake after all—Mason quickly thought of a way out of this because it started to feel so uncomfortable even for him.

Just when he was about to open his mouth, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Good morning, mate.” It was Madders. The lad then greeted her too—which she quickly replied—before turning to him again. “You’re early today.”

“You are early today.” Madders wasn’t an early morning person to his knowledge. Why would he be here now interrupting such a critical moment?

Madders sighed and shook his head. “Kennedy called, said Leo woke up and spent an hour crying, wouldn’t stop asking for me. So she had to call, and…”

Mason couldn’t hear anything Madders said; it went in one ear and out the other. He glanced at her, who was now paying attention to Madders, but still got hints of shock and confusion in her face. Mason felt his heart sinking to the pit of his stomach.

—

The sombre atmosphere could be felt around the hotel. Once they’d gotten back to the hotel from the stadium after England’s loss to France, they’d all gone straight to their rooms and locked themselves there.

It was a tough loss, a tough exit from the World Cup—it was definitely going to take a while to get over this one. They were supposed to win this all. They were supposed to lift a trophy after failing to do so last year in Euro’s final. It was not supposed to go like this. He was supposed to get more game time, play better, score his world cup goals, make his family even prouder…

Mason started to feel like it was suffocating being in his room, he started to feel like he was trapped since there was only him and his distressing thoughts. So Mason came out of his room and his feet brought him to the basketball court. No one was there, everyone was probably packing up because they were going to leave in the morning.

“It’s very late, Mason, why are you out here?”

The ball had just bounced off the ring and Mason turned around on his heels. She was walking closer, a camera bag hanging on her shoulder.

“I needed some air,” he said as he went to pick up the ball. He dribbled it as he got back to his position, shifting his gaze between the ball and her. “What are you doing?”

“Just picked this up from Paul’s room,” she said, patting her camera bag.

“You guys must have loads to pack.” Mason turned around and took another shot. The ball hit the ring again before it bounced loudly on the ground.

“Yeah… But we’ve been pretty organised, so it’s not hard to pack everything up again.” She walked closer to the wall and Mason noticed her putting her camera bag down as she stood against the wall. She tightened her jacket around her as the chilly breeze blew. “Although we believe we’ve lost a GoPro. Paul’s misplaced it. Thank God he’d removed the memory card.”

“Yeah?” Mason slightly raised his eyebrows at her before quickly looking away. He took another shot and it didn’t go in again. He shook his head, lazily picked up the ball, and just dribbled it aimlessly. He’d been missing all the shots, he didn’t want to embarrass himself even more in front of her.

She’d fallen silent and Mason didn’t dare to look up because he could feel her eyes boring at him. He might find a look of disappointment on her face, or worse, pity—he absolutely didn’t want that. He was feeling like such a big failure already; knowing that he’d failed people he cared about would only make him feel worse.

“Hey, Mase?” She said, but Mason didn’t respond. He did a layup instead; it finally went in. “I know you’re upset but… Don’t get upset for too long, okay?” Her voice sounded so soft. So gentle. “We’re all gutted but you guys have to be proud. You guys put up a good fight, it just wasn’t meant to be.”

Mason let out a heavy sigh as he shook his head, still dribbling. “We kept saying that this is gonna be our time, you know? It honestly felt like it. And I just wished that I could help the team a bit more.”

“Our time will come. Your time will come,” she said, and Mason could tell that she was smiling when she said it. “You still have a long way ahead. And this special squad is only gonna go far, I know it.” She sounded so reassuring, Mason couldn’t help but to look up at her. There was no sign of disappointment or pity on her face; he could only see her subtle smile and kind eyes.

“Thank you,” Mason muttered, offering her his best smile. She nodded and her smile grew bigger. Mason wished he could tell her how pretty her smile looked, or how warm his heart felt right now.

This was their least awkward interaction after what felt like such a long time, quite the opposite from their last. She looked rather relaxed too. Mason was curious more than ever about what had actually happened, why she’d become distant and all that. He’d thought about asking her again but this was a nice moment they were sharing and he didn’t want to ruin it. Maybe he should just forget about everything, he shouldn’t have made it a big deal, maybe she’d been just—

“I do take photos of you, Mason,” she said.. “Just when you’re not looking.”

Mason was about to do another layup. But he stopped on his tracks, he almost stumbled on his own feet. He quickly turned and searched for her face.

“What?”

The chilly breeze blew again and she folded her arms. “Last time you asked why I never take photos of you,” she tried to remind him, even though there was absolutely no need for that because Mason obviously remembered. “Well, I do actually take your photos. Just when you’re not looking and… From far away.”

Mason gulped. “Why?”

“Because I’m just shy and embarrassed? Okay– This will sound so silly,” she chortled. “But you’re my football crush. I’ve been a fan since you made your first England debut. And it’s just weird for me to suddenly… Work with you. It still feels weird even after almost a year.”

Mason gripped the ball on his hands; the tips of his fingers almost turned white. He clenched his jaw as he tried to process her words, his heart started pounding hard in his chest. “So… You have a crush on me?”

She scrunched up her face cutely. “Do you really have to say it out loud? God, it feels so… Embarrassing.”

Mason chuckled. “I’m just trying to get confirmation here.”

She sighed. “I have a Chelsea shirt with your number and name, how about that?”

Mason his stomach flipping and he couldn’t help but to chuckle again out of relief and nervousness. An image flashed on his mind, of her wearing his club shirt with his name on it, and it made his heart flutter.

“Okay, okay,” he said as he approached her, with a huge silly smile on his face. “That’s wonderful, that’s… Wow. It’s actually very good to know that.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “I mean, you must have noticed that I’ve been trying to get your attention, then? Throughout the whole camp?”

She shrugged. A blush was visible on her cheeks. “Of course I do. I’m a girl, a quite sensible one, I always know what’s happening.”

Mason shook his head in disbelief. He threw the ball away and took a few more small steps towards her. “For weeks I’d been thinking that I'd done something wrong.”

“Sorry for making you worry, I really didn’t mean too…”

“Yeah. And it turns out you knew all along that I fancy you.”

Her eyes widened. “You fancy me?”

“You literally just said you’re quite a sensible one.” Mason furrowed his eyebrows. “Why would I try so hard to get your attention if I didn’t. Do you fancy me? Am I a real crush or just a football crush?”

She pursed her lips as she stared at him for a while. Mason was honestly stunned because he’d never seen her looking at him like this before. She was admiring him, taking her time to take him in.

“A real one,” she finally said, her voice just above a whisper.

Mason was washed with the biggest wave of relief—he let out a long sigh, letting out everything he’d been holding in. He’d actually forgotten that he’d been upset because of their loss tonight. This surely mended his broken heart a little and made everything feel less down.

“Well, okay. This is nice,” he commented. He didn’t take his eyes off her. He couldn’t. “Did you know I always use all my chances to look at you? When you’re not looking.”

“I guess I did.” She shrugged. Mason grinned and she giggled.

“Hey, do you know what?” His eyes lit up, sparking a curiosity on her and it was shown by the way her eyebrows lifted up. Mason quickly got the ball that had rolled away. “I’ll do a shot and if it goes in, I get to take you on a date.”

“What if it doesn’t go in?”

“It will, I promise.”

“Go on, then.”

Mason got in position and dribbled the ball. It was at that moment that he realised that his hands were slightly trembling and this was probably stupid, but he didn’t care. She was finally looking at him from up close—he still wanted to impress her. More than ever.

After taking a deep breath and wished for the best, he confidently threw the ball in.

—

i thank you so much if you reach this point because this is a loooooong one! it took me a month to finish this one:') i kept getting stuck but today i suddenly got inspired and was able to finish it! i hope you enjoyed it! reblogs, likes, and comments are always very appreciated!<3

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My Masterlist🤍

[little-annie]

Licorice Ice Cream Pt.2

---

"Licorice Ice Cream right?"

FUCK

Of course, of fucking course Harrington's working today. Of fucking course he's working today when Eddie comes in looking like an absolute rat. Well in his own eyes anyways. Steve probably thinks otherwise but that's neither here nor there because the man's straight and the thought of him being anything but just doesn't even register on Eddie's radar.

"Uhhhh…"

Oh and of fucking course he looks like an absolute dream. Is…is that fucking lip gloss, did Steve Harrington's lips always look so wet. Fuck. And kissable. And…and fuckab- get your shit together Munson.

Is he trying to give Eddie a heart attack?

Holy ice cream slinging gods.

Fuck.

"Ow! Fuck."

There's a swift pinch in Eddie's side and he whips around to find Wayne with a far too sly expression. Like, does he not see Steve in his booty shorts and fucking lip gloss standing no more than a foot away smelling like citrus and cinnamon and looking like a sexy little underwear model with his silky hair and rosy cheeks.

"The boy asked you a question, Ed."

Oh

Shit.

Eddie straightens his back, taking a step away from Wayne and his pinching fingers.

He can be smoothe.

Eddie Munson can be suave.

He's got this.

With feigned confidence Eddie rakes his eyes ever so slowly over Steve's form, indulging in the delicacy before him. The narrow waist, the broad shoulders, those fucking lips. 

He leans forward, going for casual, dropping his eyes before looking up at Steve through his lashes. Be it a coincidence or the fucking gods above, but he swears he's captured Pretty Boys attention.

With a ring clad hand easing it's way onto the countertop between them, Eddie bats his lashes, leaning in as he speaks, "You bet-"

And suddenly there's a wet squeak and a slip and Eddie's nose fucking hurts.

The fuck just happened?

With a grumbled 'Jesus Christ, Ed' to his rear and a snort from behind the counter, Eddie lifts his face from its surface to see beautiful Carmel eyes so dangerously close to his.

"You okay there Munson?"

Oh sweet baby Harrington Jesus 

Eddie tries to regain his hardly existent confidence, leaning into the counter further, dropping his voice, batting his lashes.

Suave.

And not possibly concussed from nose diving into the fucking marble countertop.

He props his probably bruised chin on his palm as he chokes out a quiet, "Never better Sailor."

"Oh shit," Steve huffs, his worried face so close to Eddie's he can see the flecks of gold and green in his eyes, god he's so fucking pretty, "You're bleeding man."

Oh shit.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

Eddie's not good with blood.

Like really not good with blood.

You see, the whole town thinks he's this satanic cult leader who sacrifices virgins in his spare time but. Ha. Jokes on them, Eddie would sooner pass the fuck out at the sight of blood and well, the only virgin he knows is himself. 

Though, ha, um Eddie's about .2 seconds from being on his ass when a drop of blood falls to the white countertop next to his elbow.

Then there's a *thud* and dull pain in his knees and fucking everywhere else in his body.

Ow.

The next thing he sees is a blur of blue and Carmel, and there's a tightness around his body. Chilly, but solid. He hums, leaning dazed into whatever it is, taking a deep breath of cinnamon and citrus.

"'S nice," he hums again.

Then everything black.

Ten minutes later Eddie wakes up to a chill and the sight of Steve Harrington on his knees.

Oh Goddamn

Oh Oh ohhh goodman 

Well hello Sailor Steve 

Maybe he's died and gone to heaven.

A chilly, white walled, ice cream filled Heaven where Steve Harrington's dressed as a sexy sailor and waits with pouty pink lips and rosy cheeks on his knees.

Steve snickers, adjusting the ice pack he's holding to Eddie's knee, "Hello to you too Eddie."

Shit did he say that out loud

Steve's a pretty shade of pink when he speaks again, "Yeah ya did,-" There's a pause, the beautiful man pushing his hair out of his face as he continues, "You doing alright man?"

Eddie thinks about that, not entirely sure if he's truly alive or if he's lying with his skull cracked open in the middle of Scoops Ahoy. But, either way, he has Steve Harrington on his knees which is a site he never thought he'd see again after that fateful day at Jeff's locker and well, he thinks he's still kicking. Because who's he kidding, he's not making it into heaven.

"Y-yeah," Eddie chokes out, body absolutely being engulfed in a roar of heat when he clues into the fact that Steve's not only on his knees but has a large, strong hand wrapped around the back of Eddie bare calf, holding his leg out while keeping the ice pack in place with the other. 

"Can you move your leg?"

"Mhm" Eddie hums, noncommittally moving his leg, choking down a wince when there's a pinch in his knee

"Ya went down pretty hard dude, anything else sore?"

His pride maybe 

Eddie shakes his head and watches as Steve brings himself to standing, crowding into Eddie's space without thought. Fuck. He's nearly standing between Eddie's thighs. Sweet Jesus. 

He's…. He's not gonna kiss him is he? Fuck it feels like he's going to. 

Eddie feels like he's vibrating out of his skin and damn near feels like he could pass out again when Steve takes his chin in hand. 

If Eddie's sporting a chub at this little amount of contact that is his information and his information ONLY! no one else needs to know that. We've already established he's a virgin and we've already established the whole Steve Harrington of it all. So sue him. He's a horny teenage boy and an absolute God of a man has his hands on him.

And no he doesn't moan at the sweet sting of pain when a cool, wet washcloth brushes under his nose.

He doesn't.

He chokes that down because that'd be embarrassing.

If that did happen he'd probably die of embarrassment and not his heart that's about to beat out of his chest as he so blatantly stares at Steve's lips. The man's just so close it's hard not to and Eddie swears he can smell a tinge of Strawberry in the air and can't help but imagine how it'd taste on his tongue.

Subconsciously he licks his lips and continues to stare.

"Ed."

Eddie's head whips to the right to find Wayne.

The fucker looks smug as all hell.

If he didn't make the executive decision to come to the mall to 'beat the heat,' then Eddie wouldn't be in this goddamn situation. 

Which granted he's not totally mad that he's sitting on a chair with a lap nearly full of Steve Harrington but still. He did bounce his fucking face off of a marble countertop and still tried to put the moves on a straight man with most likely blood in his teeth or dripping from his nose.

Eddie shoots Wayne absolute daggers, hoping to incinerate the man with his stare before turning back to find Steve staring at him but not at him but…his lips. No. No Steve Harrington wouldn't stare at his lips. Would he? No…

Unless ….

No.

No Eddie, don't get your hopes up.

Eddie licks what he can only assume is blood or honesty, probably drool from his lip only to witness Steve bite his own and shiver before forcing his eyes away. 

Huh.

It's quiet for a moment and Eddie's sure he can fucking hear Wayne smiling to himself on the other side of the room. 

Then there's pressure on his thigh, just above his knee and a quick squeeze and Holy fuck Steve Harrington's hand is on Eddie's leg.

He sucks in a breath, trying to contain himself, looking at the hand in question then back at Wayne like he could or would possibly help him in this situation. 

The old fucker just smiles, raising a mocking brow.

Then Steve pulls him out of his trance, that silky voice, smooth like honey, humming into the air between them, "You're all cleaned up, I think you're good to go."

Eddie just stares, his eyes locked onto Steve's and his entire mind focused on the hand still on his leg.

He looks down at the hand once again, Steve seemingly realising his actions as he pulls back like he's been burned, his cheeks flaming red, whispering apologies.

While Eddie's still entranced by all that is now a blushing Steve Harrington, Wayne finally intervenes, grabbing him by the elbow, pulling him from his seat and back to the store front. Steve, red in the cheeks follows behind as Wayne offers his thanks.

Eddie's not catatonic but like maybe on the verge and rapidly hurtling towards an absolute melt down as the places Steve once laid his hands still burns with something hot and fiery on his skin.

"Get your shit together Ed, the boy's bringing you a fuckin' ice cream." Wayne grumbles into Eddie's ear as they approach the shop's exit.

And yep. There's Steve, cheeks absolutely crimson as he looks back and glares at the young woman working the till, hissing something at her until he approaches Eddie with a bashful smile and a set of puppy dog eyes, "Licorice Ice Cream, it- it's on the house." 

[tyranasauruslex]

Some observations I made whilst re-watching Driftmark and remaining forever mad that HOTD didn't include Vhagar roaring when Aemond had his eye cut out. 

Vizzy T and the gang make a swift exit from Driftmark to keep up the pretence that NOTHING BAD HAPPENED!! whilst Aemond's lost eye gets left behind in the dirt. 

Thankfully something that doesn't get left behind is Aemond's new bestie Vhagar, who practically propels herself off a rock in her haste to leave. Honestly I would be ready to bounce too if my beach chill time kept being interrupted, firstly by a small child waking me up and then by two people fucking. 

She lets out a low roar that sounds suspiciously like “Fuck y’all, I’m out!” and then she’s off; heading back to Kings Landing for the first time in decades. 

Sunfyre and Dreamfyre are flying high up ahead of the ship, probably having a good gossip about the whole eye incident and the new family member, and already veering to the right as they make their way home. Meanwhile Vhagar is flying low and heading after the ship. It’s not like she doesn’t know the way back to Kings Landing and is using the ship as a medieval sat nav. She’s following the ship because her new tiny rider that she’s only had for half a day is already missing a vital body part. MeeMaw Vhagar ain’t letting anybody else fuck up her kid.

Vhagar continues her decent behind the ship and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that it’s Alicent that is present for her flyby. Aemond’s strongest connections, so far, are with female characters - his mother, his sister and now his dragon. There’s not a lot to stop Vhagar punching her foot through the ship and flying off with Aemond but I imagine Alicent is one of those things. Begrudgingly, she knows he’s safe with his mother. 

She’s flying so low and close to the ship that her wings brush the top of that dome thing which I’m now convinced contains a sleeping Aemond, who is recovering from having an eye torn out and the wound being stitched up with what looked like a rusty fishhook. Or it contains an ailing Visarys and it’s Vhagar’s way of saying “Look what ya did, ya jerk!”

So yeah, “The Greens are rubbish with their dragons” propaganda is a load of shit. All three of them have such deep connections with their dragons and I really hope we see that in season two otherwise I’ll be kicking down the doors of HBO. 

[memberment]

good morning everyone!

I have ruined my sleep schedule. Someone save me LMAO

(10:00) as I reach the end of what I've written for morning glory, I grow tired. I need to take a nap. Will I finally finish this Fourth of July chapter today?? Perhaps.

But no one and I mean NO ONE is allowed to let me forget I need to incorporate the mostly bit at some point. Like there are so many canon refs in here it's SCARY. I NEED THE MOSTLY BIT IT IS MY FAVORITE CARTMAN BIT. NO ONE LET ME FORGET!

(6:11) this is my third good morning of the day, second on record good morning, first on record crying over my writing.

LIKE WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN THEY'RE GONNA DIE I'M GONNA THROW UP

(I'm literally not okay I need to stop writing tragic creek)

(7:04) Guys I'm almost done with my morning glory reread and when I tell y'all I just nearly died from shock bc Craig casually mentioned he 'Doesn't believe in coincidences.' Like, it's such a benign statement but after WRITING his storyline in Genesis and randomly seeing something like that in the wild that I totally forgot about almost just took me out.

(10:20) Guys after I reread this Genesis chapter and code it I AM OFFICIALLY WORKING ON MORNING GLORY AGAIN LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOO (This Fourth of July chapter will get finished tn I SWEAR TO HECK!!!!)

(And then I get to read my fav once its like 5am bc I can only read my fav fic at like 5/6 when the sun is just coming up and my room is perfectly cold and I'm almost ready to go to bed but not quite the vibe is JUST RIGHT here's to praying to the gods we don't believe in I get blessed with an early chapter(bc I have literally been trying to space them out and save them and sometimes I do get lucky and get to read two at once and it's literally the best istg))

(11:17) I forgot to reread said chapter and quit at some point but tell me how Morning went from 84.6 (?? ish) to 86.1k?? LIKE HELL YA LETS GOOOOO WE'RE MAKING PROGRESS!!!!

(11:29) It's not, like, haha funny, but I find it so painfully hilarious that I keep going back and forth between writing like fun wholesome dirty mountain kids figuring out life creek and then like them literally DYING for each other with the most gut wrenching dialogue surrounding it all. My brain needs to be studied, I fear.

(3:28) I just spent like the last 30 minutes being a fucking lunatic BACK TO MORNING GLORY!!! We're at 87.1k ... Which like, honestly, for me on hiatus??? I'm kinda impressed. Kinda proud of myself. (Not to mention the other shit I wrote that is not Morning Glory today, because I did write some of the most gut wrenching shit for Revelations just because I felt like writing angst LMAO)

(5:14) I know I've said this before. And I'll probably say it a million times. Jack stands on business and it's so FUCKING FUNNY. Like 'killing him won't solve anything'

'yeah but it'll feel good!'

LIKE OKAY DAMN LMFAOOOO

(6:27) and tonight I shut down with 89.7k

Which like, holy shit, yippie. 4th of July is done, they're doing powerpoint night, and I am just that much closer to being done with summer.