#i love that nickname so much in all it's irony

[ephemeralgalaxies]

SHADOW AND BONE S2 SPOILERS BELOW (specifically Wylan)

back on my procrastination obsessing-over-comfort-characters flavored shit again here we go

Jack Wolfe did a great job getting me invested in Wylan all over again dear god idk where to even start for this. there's so much to discuss about his character portrayal in the show.

what I wanna talk about in this meta, though, is Wylan as neurodivergent (from a neurodivergent perspective), and I'll start it out by saying I absolutely loved it.

Having Wylan so obviously ND without actually saying it or making him "weird/outcast/gross" is so refreshing in media. Like, from the books (and mid-season of the show) we know that Wylan probably has dyslexia, making it harder for him to read. He shows his discomfort with this fact about himself, how his natural conclusion is that others will treat him less because of it. But something I've always admired about Wylan (and I think a lot of fans forget *squints at trends of infantilizing ND-coded characters*) is how he knows this isn't something to be ashamed of. He knows this doesn't make him any less incredible. But he just can't get it in his head that others would feel the same way. When he first lets Jesper in on how he can't read the passport, he's trusting Jesper with this. He looks around to make sure no one else will hear, anyone he doesn't have this bond with, faith in, yet. And he asks Jesper what the passport says. The look in his eyes is so pleading, so cautious, like this is a test. He's testing Jesper to see how he'll react to this, if he'll just be another name on the list of people Wylan has to learn to let go to keep himself safe.

And yeah, Jesper fucks it up. And he just keeps fucking it up, saying how he didn't know bc "you're just so smart!" (like that "oh, you don't look autistic!" "oh, you're too smart to be disabled" etc) (like ofc, that wasn't Jesper's intentions. But when your father sends you letters like "if you're reading this, then you know how much I want you to come back home," well what are you more likely to believe Jesper is thinking?) And finally, Jesper hits it right: "you have nothing to be ashamed of!" Except... it's pretty hypocritical of him here. So Wylan panics again, he's furious because he really does like this guy but how dare you. And then he sees how hurt Jesper is and oh shit. There's more to this. It's more complicated than "don't be ashamed," there's a commonality here. This isn't pity, it's empathy.

so yeah I absolutely adore how they addressed this in the show given the situations they were placed in (like, if in the books, Wylan had already formed a strong bond with someone in the group, he probably would've done this. But he really hadn't yet, no one had told him that they want to be around him, to understand him. Wylan didn't feel safe enough to test the waters. The situation from the show, however, opened up new possibilities that stay true to his character (imo)).

Though even more than that, just the sheer obvious ND traits that Jack shows with Wylan made me so happy. Like, especially all his tics and stuttering and it didn't feel ingenuine. He doesn't stutter through everything, just super stressful situations (which... is most of his situations in s2 lmao). Like, he's not stuttering when he's just driving in the cart with Jesper or when he's scolding him for seriously, you remember that now??? (like ofc Jesper would remember him in that position I swear-- "you brought me stroopwaffles!" jesper PLS). He holds it together when confronting Kaz about Alby (his voice breaks at first, he pauses, but he works up the mask to look sturdy and immovable. which,,, with kaz brekker he definitely needs). When telling Jesper why he left, he keeps steady. It's not all the time like the stuttering-representation I've seen before (specifically in fanfics).

AND THE HEAD SHAKE TICS!!!!!!! As someone that does that a lot, I was so happy to see him doing these (the excessive blinking as well), especially when he's more shy than stressed because yeah tics can happen any time, but especially any situation with a heightened emotion (and the guy u like telling u that he really wants to try things seriously with u with that soft voice/eyes/smile (this is just becoming me simping for Kit Young), like yeah I'd definitely be feeling a lot. AND IT DOESN'T TURN JESPER AWAY. The only thing that bothered him was that Wylan hadn't responded; he was worried the sentiment wouldn't be returned. But Wylan's actual tics have nothing to do with it.

And having him so sensitive to loud sounds (ironically) makes me so happy because YES!!! YES YES YES OFC. He loves music and chemistry because Wylan controls them. He can control the sound, the amount of it all, he can predict it. And it makes it easier to deal with. He doesn't flinch away from his own explosions (when he knows they're coming, unlike the one that destroyed the Crow Club) -- usually he covers his ears or hides his face ahead of time. He likes the higher piano keys, the flute puffs (forgive me, I am a cellist and a pianist, Idk what the harsher sounds from his flute when we first see him are called technically) when he can control them and their effects. And whenever he does react to other sounds/situations, he leans towards his one comfort-person in the group (Jesper), leaving him lost once he tries to sever that tie after telling Jesper that he can't read. Wylan leans on Tolya more instead (I love that so much for so many reasons) bc while Tolya is less known, he's just,,,,,,, okay I'm sorry but Tolya gives off such comforting vibes, alright? Like he's so amazing. I haven't read the SaB books yet, just SoC, so I saw everyone talking about him like "oh yeah ok. some cool character ppl love. aight we'll see how it goes." aND I LOVE HIM SO MUCH???

Like if I was in Wylan's position, given all the other characters around, I would definitely lean to Tolya for comfort. Also Tolya is a great fighter, like. alsdkfj no focus, Wylan first, Tolya meta later.

ALL THE INFO DUMPS TOO!!!! That urge to inform Jesper despite also wanting to be pissed at him bc pls be interested in this, I wanna tell someone so much. This is so important to me. AND THEN wanting to correct Jesper later when Jesper apologizes, even messing it up himself after hearing how Jesper pronounces it when Wylan knows how it should be bc god the echolalia, the subconscious ND urge to repeat what others said/how they said it/tongue just getting screwed up when u hear something wrong despite knowing how it should be. And then Wylan deciding that it's not important, that he has so much time now to correct Jesper, that he can explain it all and more later under the safety of roof and the morning sun.

I'm not crying you are.

okok I need to eat supper now but pls I love how Jack Wolfe depicts Wylan as ND so bad, it's so validating. Especially with an entire cast full of ND characters (u cannot change my mind that the Crows isn't ND Found Family. I love them so much) and how different everyone is still, showing so many side to neurodiversity. And that it's all valid. That Wylan is incredible and beautiful and brilliant, neurodivergence and all. That someone like him, someone maybe like me, could find a love (romantic, familial, platonic) like Wylan does with the Crows (and now more! since the show allows them to interact with the other series).

Representation matters, people.

[munson-blurbs]

Eddie Munson x Best Friend!Reader

Summary: You've been crushing on Eddie since you joined Hellfire Club. Too bad he's crushing on Chrissy Cunningham...right?

Warnings: angst to fluff, idiots in love, super cheesy but it's Valentine's Day so idc WC: 1.6k A/N: My entry for @corroded-hellfire's This is Music! event!

Divider credit to @saradika

Eddie’s looking at her again.

You can’t blame him; he’d be crazy not to stare at Chrissy Cunningham, clad in her tiny cheerleading uniform with a bouncy blonde ponytail and sugar-sweet giggle. If you just ignore him, act like he isn’t imagining sweeping her off of her feet–

“Do you think I should send her one of those candy gram things?”

Almost instinctively, Dustin’s eyes flicker to you, but he turns back to Eddie before anyone can notice. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he stammers, scrambling for an excuse. “She and Jason, like, just broke up.” 

This information doesn’t deter Eddie in the slightest. “Exactly. She’s probably heartbroken from getting dumped right before Valentine’s Day. I could be her…Freak in Shining Armor.” He grins at his spin on the unwanted nickname, pausing for a half-second before turning to you and asking, “You’re a girl. What do you think?”

The question is almost laughable. What do you think? You think he should stop pining over Chrissy and start seeing you in that same light.

With a painful swallow, you force a strained smile. “If you like her, you should go for it.”

That’s all of the motivation Eddie needs. He slams his palm on the table and proudly declares, “All right, I’m doin’ it.”

Tears bite at your lash line as he strides across the cafeteria over to where the student council has set up the candy gram booth. You feel a gentle hand on your shoulder, and you glance over to see Dustin offering you a sympathetic look.

“He’s an idiot,” he says, low enough so that his words are inaudible to other Hellfire members. “He’ll figure it out one day, but you shouldn’t sit around waiting for it to happen.”

Logic tells you that he’s right, but moving on is easier said than done. Especially when he’s one of your closest friends.

Determined to avoid any inquiring from the other guys, you do your best to assimilate into their conversation about beating this week’s campaign.

Chrissy received Eddie’s candy gram on Valentine’s Day. To his dismay, she also got one from Jason Carver. 

“Of course she went back to him,” Eddie mutters, tossing his tin lunch box on the cafeteria table with a harsh clang. He heaves a sigh and rests his head on your shoulder, gazing up at you with his big, beautiful eyes. “Am I gonna be alone forever?”

“Probably.” You muster a tense laugh and brush a tendril of his hair off of your cheek. “Maybe you can try sending out a message in a bottle and see if anyone bites.”

He harrumphs and slumps over, burying his face in his palms. “She told me she ‘appreciates my friendship.’” He shakes his head. “Fucking humiliating.”

The irony of his statement is too much to bear, and you slip away from the table with a half-hearted excuse about needing to study for the history test you have next period. 

The walk to the library feels like it takes decades, silent tears falling as soon as you find an empty table among the stacks of books. 

Chrissy wanted Jason the way Eddie wanted Chrissy, which was the same way you wanted Eddie. 

And no one wanted you. 

A few minutes pass before Jeff slides into the seat next to you. “We’re in the same history class. Figured it would make your lie more believable if I had to study, too.” He shrugs. “Plus, I wanted to check on you.”

“I’m fine.”

He doesn’t believe you, you know he doesn’t. Embarrassment is written all over your face, both at your abrupt exit from the cafeteria and your pathetic crush on Eddie. 

Jeff takes a deep breath. “Look, Eddie doesn’t know what he wants.”

“Seems pretty obvious to me that he wants Chrissy,” you say wryly, twirling a pen between your fingers. 

“No…I mean, yeah. But that’s because she’s, like, safe.”

You scoff. “Asking out the Queen of Hawkins High is safe?” 

“Sounds ridiculous, I know, but hear me out.” Jeff leans in a bit closer so he can whisper to you. “She’s not part of our group, so he doesn’t have to worry about constantly hanging out with her. Plus, she’s nice enough to not publicly destroy his ego. I’m sure she didn’t tell Jason about the candy gram, or else he would’ve announced it to the whole school by now.”

You nod in reluctant agreement. 

“And speaking of that jackass,” Jeff continues, “how many times have they broken up and gotten back together?” 

“Too many to count.” Their relationship is like one of the novelas you watch when you’re stuck at home with a fever. 

“Exactly.” Jeff exhales. “Chrissy paid a little bit of attention to Eddie because she wanted some weed for a party, and now he’s head over heels for her. Because he can be. Because her rejection stings a little, but it’s nothing compared to how being rejected by you would feel.”

Wiping at your tear-dampened cheeks, you shake your head. “I don’t think he cares about being rejected by me.”

He mumbles something under his breath but doesn’t say another word until the bell rings, and the two of you walk to class together. 

Thank God you don’t actually have a test today; you wouldn’t be able to focus long enough to answer a single question. All you think about is what Jeff had implied: that Eddie does like you but is afraid to ruin your friendship.

You brush off the idea as ridiculous. Why would Eddie choose you over the gorgeous head cheerleader?

Uneasiness builds within you until it’s impossible to ignore, and you scrawl a note in the back of your composition notebook before you can fully think it through.

Eddie–

I’m sorry that Chrissy turned you down. Trust me when I say that I know what it’s like to feel unwanted by the person you want the most. It sucks, but you’ll move on and realize that she was the one who missed out, not you.

You sign your name and add a P.S. Fuck Valentine’s Day for good measure, folding the paper in fourths and slipping it into his locker between class periods. Not quite a confession, but it’ll do.

Eddie’s waiting by your locker after the last bell rings, scraping a front tooth against his bottom lip and fiddling with something. As you get closer, you realize that something is your note.

“Who is he?” Eddie demands to know, sighing impatiently when you raise your brows in confusion. “This mystery guy who doesn’t want you. Who is he?”

“No one. It’s fine,” you say quickly, refusing to make eye contact with him as you twist open the lock. “It was just to let you know that you’re not alone in this, okay?”

He shakes his head and chuckles tersely. “Nah, not okay. I’ve gotta kick his ass.” He shuffles from foot to foot, already anticipating a fight.

“Well, you can’t.”

“And why not?” Eddie scoffs. “I know I’m scrawny, but I’m pretty damn scr–”

“Because you’d be kicking your own ass!” The words fly out of your mouth before you can stop them. Your blood runs cold and your pulse thuds in your ears when you realize what you’ve said. “I’m sorry. That was too much, especially with what happened with Chrissy today.”

You start to leave, but you’re tugged back in place by his gentle grasp on your wrist. “Follow me,” he murmurs. He makes a beeline for the Hellfire room with you right on his heels. As soon as you walk in, he closes the door. “Repeat that? Because I don’t think I heard you right.”

“You’re the guy who doesn’t want me,” you manage through the lump in your throat, “and it’s okay, because we can’t help who we like and who we don’t. I don’t want you to feel guilty or anything like that.” 

You’re rambling, and you tuck your lips into your mouth to stop yourself from talking yourself in circles.

Silence seeps into the room, the only noise is the hum from the fluorescent lights overhead. Finally, Eddie speaks again. “Do you know why I asked you to join Hellfire?”

You swivel your head back and forth in a definite no.

“Yeah, I tried to keep it that way,” he says with an awkward laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “So, um, I kinda had a massive crush on you. And I figured that we’d get to know each other here and then I’d ask you out or whatever, but I kept chickening out. So…there ya have it.” He shifts his hands as if to say ta-da.

“And now you like Chrissy.” Out with the old, in with the new.

Eddie takes a small step closer, one ring-clad hand taking yours. “Not the way I like you,” he breathes, his other thumb tracing a faint line over your jaw. “Not even close.”

You close the gap between you, tilting your head so your lips meet his. The fear that he’ll hesitate or turn his head altogether disappears as soon as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss. His hand tucks behind your ear, and he leaves it there until you both have to break away for air.

The two of you wear matching smiles, shy but relieved. Eddie leans in to kiss you once again, only to be interrupted by the rest of the club’s musings.

“Took them long enough.”

“Seriously, I thought we were just gonna have to watch them pine over each other forever.”

“Crap, do you think they can hear us?”  

“Yeah, shit-heads, we can hear you,” Eddie calls out with a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief before turning back to you.

“Now, where were we?”

--

[scoops-aboy86]

Steve as a late night radio DJ, with Robin as his producer (because my partner has made me watch so much Frasier lol). He's got the sexy voice and Eddie, frontman of successful metal band Corroded Coffin, still remembers him from Hawkins and, ugh.

But, well, his manager set up the interview and it would cause more of a stir to no-show than it would to turn up and bicker with some washed up former high school bully. It's a different city, a different decade; maybe King Steve won't even remember him.

So Eddie turns up, and he actually beats Steve there. To the point of the show starting and it's just him in the booth, chatting awkwardly with Robin to fill the air. It gets less awkward the more they talk, idly catching up on old small town bullshit and what it's like to go from isolated baby queers ("I thought I was totally alone!" "Really? You didn't clock the black bandana hanging out of my pocket for five of my six years in high school?" "Sorry old timer, I was still in middle school for part of that." "Oh fuck off, Ms. 'I went to Sarah Lawrence and all I got was this awesome girlfriend.'" "Sorry Eddie, we can't all be super late bloomers like you.") to Actually Successful And Functioning Adults. (She's kind enough not to mention his single but unfortunately well known brush with rehab, other than to congratulate him on his seven year chip.)

And then Steve bursts in, huffing and puffing and diving for the headphones and mic to apologize to both them and the audience for being late. He doesn't even try to offer an excuse until Robin asks, "Uh, Steve? Want to share with us why your arm's in a sling and one of your eyebrows looks like it got flambéd right off your face?"

Which turns into a very put-upon but entertaining retelling of Dustin Henderson ("Oh damn, Henderson! I fell outta touch with him ages ago. How is that little shit?" "Married. He didn't end up converting to Mormonism, but they still have enough kids to make up half a basketball team." "Is that... a lot?" "Six, Munson. They have six kids." "Which is funny, because he made soooo much fun of Steve for wanting that many back in the day." "Yeah. Showed him." "Fuck, my condolences to his wife if they all inherited his big head. You gotta give me his number after this. Or—DUSTIN, if you're listening to your babysitter's show, come to my next concert and there'll be two backstage passes with your name on it! Or, well, that embarrassing nickname your radio girlfriend used to call you, since I think I've blurted out your full government name by now." "That girlfriend is actually his wife now." "No shit?! Wow, I can't believe one of my little lost sheepies has managed to keep the same girl for over a decade. Is she really hotter than Phoebe Cates?" "Oh, she is smokin." "Robin, don't make it weird." "Oh it's okay, she already knows. I told her.") ... A very put-upon but entertaining retelling of Dustin Henderson coming over to discuss plans for Ma Henderson's birthday, and bringing a cherries jubilee that Suzie had made so he could literally demonstrate the flambé presentation ("Listeners, I swear I did not know, when I asked Steve about his flambéd eyebrow, that it was a literal flambé accident. Eddie, can you confirm?" "I can confirm, Robin. We received no heads-up calls or messages from Steve before or during the show. It was serendipitous irony, 100% pure.") but poured waaaaay too much brandy on, and then Steve tripped in his mad dash for the fire extinguisher ("He was no help at all, just stopped dropped and rolled right there in the middle of the damn kitchen." "How are his eyebrows?" "Ugh, I have more of them than he does right now but at least his match. Don't worry everyone, he's fine. No nerds were injured in the course of this improv slapstick comedy routine that is my life. I swear to god, I need a girlfriend or a boyfriend or someone reasonable to hang out with besides all you weirdos." "Aw, you love us." "Yeah Stevie, what would you do without your loving nerd squad?" "Yeah, yeah... But don't try to leave yourself out of this Munson, as far as I'm concerned you're still the king of all nerds. And if you're reconnecting with Dustin, you're stuck with us too.") and had to stop by urgent care on the way to work.

Throughout all of this, Eddie is not twirling a lock of hair around one finger... but only because it's tied haphazardly back to keep it out of his face for the day. Steve is different from the guy he remembers strutting the halls of Hawkins High. Still all freckles and hair and charismatic grin, but he carries himself differently. More solidly built in his mid-thirties than his late teens, with a layer of softness that suits him. Calmer and settled, with the kind of confidence that comes with growing up. And the girlfriend or boyfriend thing? Holy shit. Holy shit. King Steve? Who knew? But, well, it explains why Steve and Robin are so close, Eddie guesses.

The Steve Harrington that Eddie had known back in the day hadn't exactly been the worst of the bullies, but he'd been friends with them, and they had spouted plenty of homophobic shit. And Steve had been looking right at him as he'd said it, like he's aware that Eddie is terminally single and maybe, just maybe, there was a flicker of a question in his eyes.

Eddie has been publicly out for a while now, and the thing is... Steve is definitely his type. So he leans into it a little, testing the waters. And Steve responds to it like a sunflower greeting the sunrise.

By the end of the show Robin is slapping post-its on the glass partition that read "Get his number dingus" and "Get a room" and Don't make that face at me, yes I do know that he can see these too and I don't care, GET IT or I will recruit Dusty-dun to my cause" and "To clarify, the cause is getting you laid. Eddie, take note, he's allergic to latex."

Permanent tag list (ask to be added, but since I have gotten an influx of new followers lately just know that I write a lot of weight gain kink so like... just be aware): @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve

[pretzel-box]

Might I humbly request more streamer au Sebastian?? I don't have a specific prompt so honestly do whatever you'd like!

SEQUEL TO THE STREAMER AU

PART 1 HERE

Tags: Doubt, Comedy, Teasing, Slightly Fluff, Streamer AU

Words: 1,6k

You glanced at the message on your screen, your eyes narrowing in playful suspicion.

“Jellybeanie_?”

Even though it was just a jumble of words on the flat screen, you could almost hear the amusement behind the way Solace wrote your username. It was a name that carried a bit of a past, a digital footprint that had followed you through your early streaming days. Your father had given you the nickname "Jellybeanie" when you were young, and it stuck, especially during your awkward teenage years when you thought beanies were the pinnacle of cool fashion. There was a bit of irony there, considering the sheer volume of cringe it represented. You had done everything to erase that phase from existence, deleting your weird selfies, throwing the beanies out and pretending you’re too cool for silly headwear—except for the username. Somehow, it had become part of your identity, both endearing and a little bit embarrassing.

"Don't judge it, Shoelaced_Seb42," you shot back with a grin, your fingers flying over the keyboard as the heat of the moment pulled you in. You could only imagine what kind of story was behind his own name. Maybe it was a wordplay with “shoelace” and “Solace,” but “Seb42”? That was anyone’s guess. There had to be a story there, too—everyone had one.

His reply came almost instantly. “Careful, doll. I don't want to reveal my edgelord side in front of a cute bean like you.”

You felt a flutter in your chest, something warm and annoyingly familiar. Damn him for knowing exactly how to get under your skin—and damn you for liking

While you had no problem flirting with Solace during your nightly gaming streams, your real-life roommate was a different story entirely. It was a cruel twist of fate, really. Your fans always talked about how well you and Solace—a famous streamer with a massive following—got along. They called you "the perfect duo," and more than a few shipped you two. They didn't know the irony of the situation. Because in reality, when you weren't "Jellybeanie_", there was no Pressured_Solace, just Sebastian.

The Sebastian who would leave his empty coffee mugs all over the apartment. The Sebastian who would blast his music at ungodly hours, regardless of how many times you'd told him you needed quiet for your recordings. The Sebastian who seemed to have made it his life mission to be the most insufferable person you'd ever met.

You had moved into this apartment months ago, both of you, lured by the promise of a prime location and cheap rent—only to discover that you couldn't go five minutes without bickering over something mundane. The Wi-Fi. The thermostat. The last of the milk.

"Seriously, Sebastian," you muttered under your breath the next morning after your midnight chat with Solace, staring at the empty carton of milk your roommate left in the fridge. "Is it too much to ask for you to throw this out? Or better yet, buy more?"

Sebastian sauntered into the kitchen, tousled black hair sticking up at odd angles, a lazy grin on his face. "Morning to you too, sunshine," he said, ignoring your frustration completely. He tossed his phone onto the counter and grabbed a can of energy drink from the pantry. "Did you see my note?"

You rolled your eyes, exasperated. "Yeah, I saw it. It was crumpled up in the trash. Nice touch."

He just smirked, leaning back against the counter as he cracked open the can. "You know, I think you secretly love our little banter," he said, taking a sip and watching you with those infuriatingly bright eyes of his. He was definitely teasing you, his tone wasn't like Solace his…Sebastian was the ungodly opposite, annoying, mean and insufferable.

"Love is a strong word," you shot back, fighting the urge to hit him with the empty milk box. He had this way of getting under your skin, making you react, and he seemed to take endless delight in it.

When night fell and the cameras turned on, it was a different story. As Jelly you felt like you were seeing a different side of life by spending time with Solace. The witty banter, the playful teasing over the text messages—it felt real. More real than the stupid arguments with your roommate over dish duty or who got to use the bathroom first in the mornings.

You’d been doing collaborative streams with Solace for months now. What had started as a random pairing in a popular online game had quickly turned into a regular thing, and your viewers loved it. There was a chemistry there—an undeniable spark that had even you questioning what was real and what was just for show.

And the more you streamed together, the more you found yourself looking forward to those late-night gaming sessions. The way he made you laugh, the way he’d check in to make sure you were okay if things got too intense in-game. There was a kindness to him—a depth that you didn’t see in the Sebastian you shared your living space with.

“So, Jelly,” his voice crackled through your headset, bringing you back to the game at hand. “What’s the plan? You gonna carry us to victory, or should I start writing my will now?”

You chuckled, glancing at the chat as messages flew by. Your viewers were eating this up. “I don’t know, Solace,” you replied, your tone playful. “Maybe I’ll let you die first and then come in for the save. Would make for great content.”

He laughed, a sound that sent a small thrill through you. “Always thinking about the content. That’s why you’re the best.”

You felt your cheeks warm at the compliment, a smile tugging at your lips. Damn him. Why did he have to be so... nice? And why did you have to like it so much?

It was nearly 3 a.m. by the time your stream ended. You stretched, feeling the fatigue settle into your bones. As you stepped out of your room, you were startled to find Sebastian in the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge.

He looked up as you entered, a frown on his face. “Late night?” he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You rolled your eyes, too tired to muster up a proper retort. “Like you’re one to talk,” you muttered, grabbing a water bottle from the counter.

For a moment, there was an awkward silence, the kind that seemed to fill every corner of the small apartment. Then, out of nowhere, he asked, “Do you ever… wonder what your online friends are like in real life?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in tone. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, looking uncharacteristically thoughtful. “I mean, it’s easy to get along with someone when you’re just a username and a voice on a screen. But in real life… things are different.”

You studied him for a moment, unsure of where this was coming from. “Yeah,” you said slowly. “I guess you’re right. People can be… different.”

He nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned back to the fridge. “Anyway, good night,” he said over his shoulder as he grabbed a snack and headed back to his room.

“Good night,” you replied, watching him go. You couldn’t help but wonder about the sudden shift in his demeanor. The whole conversation was just a giant question mark and you didn't understand where the sudden question came from.

A week passed, and you couldn't stop thinking about that night in the kitchen. Your streams with Solace were becoming more frequent, and with every passing game, you felt that connection deepening. It was confusing. Especially after Sebastian's words from last week, you actually don't know much about Solace. What he looks like, what his job is, if he has a partner…God he could be a 65 year old man named Josh that drives a truck and eats Hamburgers every day for lunch. He could be anyone.

And then, one fateful night, everything changed.

You were streaming a new co-op game with Solace when a message popped up in the chat from a mutual fan. “Wouldn’t it be crazy if Jelly and Seb were roommates IRL?”

You laughed it off, typing a quick response. “Yeah, imagine that chaos!”

Seb responded with a chuckle, “We’d probably drive each other insane.”

But the thought lingered. Your eyes drifted over to his username again—Pressured_Solace. You hated the feeling of having a crush on someone who was out of reach, someone who had not a face and not a real name. And it crushed you not to know if you would ever know more about him. Wondering if all the flirting and the jokes were just a facade for the streams or if he actually tries to get close to you.

Your sudden silence must have been noticeable because Solace his voice came through your headset, concerned. “Jelly? You okay?”

You swallowed hard, trying to compose yourself. “Yeah, I… I just thought of something.”

“Like what?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“Nothing,” you replied quickly, too quickly. “Just… something funny. I'll tell you later.”

But as you ended the stream, you knew there was no way you were going to let this go. Not without finding out the truth behind Solace.

The stream ended, the microphone turned off and you leaned back into your chair, fumbling with the cables of your headphones.

“Solace?” Your fingers moved on the glowing keyboard, texting him on discord. The most healthy thing was confrontation instead of confusion and you collected your courage to ask him for a picture.

“What's up, Jellybeanie!~”

“Can I get a picture?” It didn't take long till he replied with a spoiler-covered picture, adding a secretive emoji that holds a finger in front of their mouth. Your heart skips a beat, anxiety and excitement rushing through your mind and you click on the image with shaky hands.

It was a fish. He trolled you.

“SOLACE!”

“ALR ALR CHILL BEANIE!1!1”

He send another picture.

And in a single moment, it hit you hard.

And you screamed.

[slasherscream]

Hi, sorry to bug but I have to yap to someone about this, and I love your ideas. Do you think Nathan Prescott would take his partner’s last name if he ever got married? Would any of the Crazy Ass Boy Gang?

❥ who would take your last name ❥

Nathan Prescott - He would take your last name so quickly it would make your head spin. You’re the first person who’s given meaning to the world family. His sister tried, but when you’re on a sinking ship, there’s only so much you can do. Try too desperately to save the person drowning next to you and you risk going under yourself. So Nathan drowned alone. Until you, that is. Marrying you, becoming part of your family, is absolution for him. He’s not Sean Prescott’s son. He’s Nathan Y/L/N, your husband. 

Jason Dean/JD - It might seem a little strange for JD to be so willing to change his name. His nickname is just his first and last name together, afterall. This was his mother’s last name. But it’s also his father’s. One night he’ll gently wake you , and in the quietest voice you’ve ever heard him use he'll ask you if you’d like him to take your last name. There are so many questions he’s asking, in that one sentence: Do you want me to be yours, unequivocally? Will you bear the weight of that ownership? Am I abandoning my Mother, if I leave her all alone as a Dean, with only him as her company? Will you ask me to take it? Please ask. Please take the weight of the asking away. I can’t abandon her. But I can’t stay, either. Put your arms around him and tell him he’ll make one hell of a Y/L/N.

❥ who would want you to take theirs ❥

Sebastian Valmont - He has genuinely doodled your names together in his journals like a middle schooler. Without a hint of irony: Mr. and Mx. Valmont. Y/N Valmont. Since the moment he fell in love he was planning to marry you and give you his last name. The Valmont name carries weight. It’s legacy. It’s old money. He throws his name around and people fall over themselves to get things done for him. He wants you to throw around his name too. He wants you to embrace every luxury he can give you. One of those luxuries is the power of his family name. Use it.

Billy Loomis - His parent’s marriage failed miserably. He doesn’t even know if his Mother kept the name Loomis. At this point, what does it matter? He fights tooth and nail not to live in the past when he has a future with you to look forward to. So he wants to look forward. He wants to do better than his parents did. He wants to wake up in ten years, twenty, thirty and reach for your hand and know you two succeeded. His family name isn’t doomed to failed promises, runaway spouses, and unfaithfulness. You guys are a better Loomis pair than his parents ever were.

David Mccall - Don’t piss him off. If you even try to hint at wanting to keep your original family name, it will be one of the few times you see David’s mask slip. “What? My name not good enough for you, sweetheart? Marriage is for starting over. It’s for building our lives together, not for hanging onto the past. Thought you loved me.” Every dirty trick he has in his arsenal will be used. Whatever it takes until you give in. Sex. Guilt. Moping. Anger. Don’t push back too hard, or go back and forth on the issue for too long. On your wedding day you’re gonna be Y/N Mccall, come hell or high water. There’s no need for anything drastic to take place just for that to happen, right baby? 

Josh Washington - Josh could never be anything but a Washington. It’s the name he shared with his sisters. It’s the only thing he still shares with his sisters. He used to be able to see them in his face, at least. But now… he’s so different, even that bit of the twins has died. It isn’t right that there are so few Washington's left. Most days Josh isn’t even sure if he’s a Washington anymore. If he’s still Human anymore. But you are. You’re gentle, kind, and so painfully human. Just like the twins were. He might have failed them, hell, he probably failed himself. But he won’t fail you. He has a second chance at a family, and this time you’ll always be safe. 

Sparrow!Ben Hargreeves - Would be so offended if this was even up for debate. Why wouldn’t you be taking his name? Why is it even a discussion? Why does he even have to ask? Will probably say something incredibly mean and unnecessary when you first talk about it. There’s a pit of insecurity in him that no amount of love you can give him will fill. It’s shaped like the love he should have gotten from his father. From his siblings. But the first love he’s ever felt has been yours. But that’s not true for you. You’ve loved people before him. Other people have loved you before he was able to. He needs you to be his. Just his. You’re the only thing in the world that matters that belongs only to him. But there are little pieces of you that will never be just his and it makes him sick. This can fix all that, though! He knows that the security of introducing you as his spouse will be a balm on his soul. He wants tabloids, newspapers, TV, and the radio to all be parroting the words: Y/N Hargreeves. He hopes- no, he knows it will make that hole inside him ache a little less. 

❥ who wants to hyphenate ❥

Jordan Li - Jordan doesn’t want you to give up your identity, who you are, just because you’re marrying them. They also don’t want to change their name, really. Something about not being a Li, despite everything, makes their stomach turn. But marriage is still about coming together. Making two lives so harmonious, so copacetic, that sometimes, if you’re lucky, it becomes one life, shared. Jordan didn’t propose for a long time, afraid of it all going wrong. Of ruining what you have. You helped them believe you two were strong enough to change and grow together. They want your names to reflect that. So, you hyphenate, and you blend, and grow, together. 

Stu Macher - Assumed you would take his last name, but when you pushed back, not sure if you wanted to shirk your family name entirely, Stu had the most relaxed reaction you’ve ever gotten from him about anything. “Okay, why don’t we both change 'em’? We’ll hyphenate! Like Brad Pitt and Angelina, or whatever.” You were expecting a tantrum. Not the easy acceptance that he actually meant for once. The fact is you’re wearing his ring on your finger, and you’re gonna stand in front of all your friends and family and say how much you love him. He’s already won. Why sweat the small stuff? 

Kevin Khatchadourian - Was quite angry when you began to hint at not wanting to change your name. It was the icy, calculated anger that made him dangerous, too. But if you’re marrying him you know how to communicate with him. Reason with him. You don’t want to take his last name because you don’t want to emulate his family. You want to make something of your own with him. You’re not sure how well the words worked until he sets the paperwork down in front of you. Kevin Y/L/N-Khatchadourian. In those small lines of ink, you’ll realize how deep the love Kevin is capable of runs for you. If you squint your eyes those words start to look like: I want us to be different from my parents. He watches you sign the paperwork to change your name, and Kevin has never been more content to give in to one of your demands. Just this once, of course.

A/N: i LOVE a character study question that’s still x reader. you are my favorite person in the world for this one. if you enjoyed these headcanons consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anon! a writer's fuel is engagement. xoxoxo

[sonolynn]

Midnight Sky.

summary | Stargazing is what made Sebastian confess to you.

pairing | Sebastian Sallow x !Fem!Reader

tags | Kissing, description of mutual pining, overall just tooth rotting fluff, some swearing, not proof read

w.c | 1.4k

note(s) | I like to imagine Sebastian as a lovesick, teenage boy. So a lovesick teenage boy he shall be.

______________________________________________________________

You stared at him as he slept. He looked so peaceful, his hair lightly hanging in his eyes, his freckled cheek squished against his arm, the way his breathing was light and calm. You reached forward, gently pushing his bangs away from his eyes, all to get a better look at the beautifully sculpted boy in front of you. 

You two were supposed to be studying. But, Sebastian in his infinite wisdom stayed up basically all night finishing an assignment he had two weeks to properly prepare for. So now, in the dim candle light of the castle’s library you sat alone, with your thoughts and the cute sleeping boy next you. 

He’s so pretty, you thought to yourself, mimicking his position. You laid with your head on your arm, a hand coming to gently stroke his cheek as he huffed softly and yawned. In his sleep, he nuzzled closer to your hand, his subconscious deliberately searching for the warmth of your affection. 

A smile graced your lips as you watched him carefully. Taking in the way his lips pursed into a pout, how his eyes opened slowly-

Wait, he’s waking up. 

Sebastian opened his eyes, sleepily staring at you as he blinked a few times to ground himself. You pushed your lips together, cheeks becoming aflame at such an open level of physical affection to your friend. Sebastian smiled, his charming-sleepy half smile-as he yawned. 

“How long have I been asleep?” His voice, laced with a laziness that somehow always made your cheeks burn even more than they already were.

“Perhaps about..forty minutes?” Sebastian groaned in response, leaning back against his chair as he stretched. You, in a desperate way to ignore his shirt riding up, started to slowly pack your things. 

Sebastian settled back into the chair, his hands going to the back of his head as he smiled to himself. He stared at you, his heart banging against its cage. The way you looked, your face illuminated by the candle light and your hair all messy made his stomach flip. He hadn’t realized you had looked back at him until you spoke. 

“Bash?” Oh merlin's beard  that nickname. Normally, he would severely glare at anyone who called him that, but you? The way it fell so naturally off your lips made his eyes soften. 

When you spoke to him, he subconsciously put a hand to his chest-the feeling of his heart rapidly thumping against his rib cage was almost painful. 

“Huh?” 

“I asked if you wanted to skip dinner and hang out in the courtyard?” 

“Oh..yeah, sure.” As if in a daze, he stood, smiling down at you as he started to gather his own things. 

______________________________________________________________

The sky was boring, he didn’t understand why you loved staring at it so much. 

I’m much easier to look at. He thought to himself. He watched you, his breath in his throat as you smiled and stared up at the stars. He always wondered if you would look at him like that-with so much raw and pure admiration that it was almost sickening. 

“Oh! Bash look! That one is the Gemini constellation!” You exclaimed, innocently pointing up to the sky and staring at the stars, (they all looked the same to Sebastian). “Isn’t it beautiful?” 

You always did this thing-Sebastian noticed-were you would play with your hands as you aimlessly stared at the sky. Oh how he so desperately wished to reach over and take your hand in his. How he wanted to push your hands apart just to wedge his larger one in between them and hold your hands. He wished that you would look at him the same way you did the stars. 

But the irony was that you did. When he looked up to where you were pointing, your eyes would subconsciously drift over to his lanky frame next to yours and you’d stare. You would stare at him like he was the one who put the stars in the sky. You would stare at him like how a child would stare at candy. 

“I think you're gorgeous.” 

He did not just fucking say that. 

Your head immediately snapped to the side, your eyes locking with his. You were afraid that even in the moonlight that he could see the way your cheeks blazed with embarrassment. 

“Excuse me-”

“I said I think you’re fucking gorgeous…” He whispered the words, and he watched the way your face softened and how your hands slowly stopped entangling themselves. 

“I was speaking of the stars.” 

He nods, gulping in embarrassment as he starts to stammer. “Well, I uhm, yes I know that I just, I uhm…” He took in a soft breath before he looked back up at you, a familiar softness in his eyes. “I do think you’re gorgeous.” 

No matter how many times he said it, you would not believe he had truly said it. You stared at him in shock, your brain not fully wrapping around how Sebastian had just called you gorgeous. 

“Bash I-”

“No please,” He pleaded, taking in a deep breath, “I can’t not say anything…” He took your hand gently, his palms sweaty and shaky as he breathed out your name before he continued, “I feel something for you.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed. You knew what he meant-or, perhaps you thought you did. The words “I feel something for you” could be anything from anger to love to resentment. Your brain gave you a million explanations except for the true meaning, that he saw you the way that you saw him.

“You…feel what exactly?”

“So many things.”

“Sebastian that-”

“Let me kiss you.” Your breath stopped at these words, and you finally were rendered speechless. You stared at him as he leaned closer, his nose brushing against yours. You awaited the fateful moment when his lips would press against yours, but it never came. You looked up into his eyes, and found him staring right back at you. 

“Please?” He whimpered, pathetically as his large hand came and threaded his fingers in between the cracks of yours. You could barely think let alone speak, fearing the betrayal your voice would give into if you did speak. You nodded softly, your eyes closing as he finally leaned forward and kissed you. The kiss was sweet, innocent even. He was like a frightened school boy, not knowing what to do with his hands as he tilted his head slightly. His hand pulled away from yours, running its course up your arm and into your hair as he held your head and deepened the kiss. 

The kiss that started off soft and innocent soon turned passionately hungry as you grabbed the back of his head and pulled him impossibly closer. Sebastians head was spinning, and he groaned-a deep, guttural sound-into your mouth. His thumb stroked your cheek bone softly as he pushed you down onto the grass below the two of you. His hands came to rest on your hips, his head tilting more as your fingers threaded through his brown curls, tugging lightly. 

It was nothing short of electric, making out in the middle of the moon-lit courtyard with the boy you’ve been admiring for months was something that you did not expect to happen, at least not tonight. But, as his mouth pulled away from yours, and slowly left heated, open mouth kisses from your jaw to your neck, the reality of the situation truly started to set in. 

That and the yells from behind you, coming from a hufflepuff prefect. 

You and Sebastian jumped up, disheveled and red cheeked as the prefect started to make their way towards you. Sebastian immediately jumped up, taking your hand and sprinting into the castle-trying desperately to get back inside, and away from the prefect. 

The two of you ran, breathing heavy and hearts thumping with adrenaline, until Sebastian pulled you close and into an empty corridor. The prefect ran by, and as soon as Sebastain knew that it was safe, he turned to you. 

The two of you stared at each other for a while, chests heaving and panting. You broke first, laughing hysterically at the situation. The laughing was broken as Sebastain leaned forward and placed his forehead against yours, a smirk on his kiss swollen lips.

“So..butterbeer tomorrow?” He spoke carefully, holding your face like he would his uncle’s finest china. You laughed softly, but you closed your eyes and nodded softly. 

“Yeah, butterbeer tomorrow.”

______________________________________________________________

[absolutebl]

thai language question! what do tongthap and atom call each other in MLMU TH? it sounds like ‘nai’ or maybe ‘ngai’? it’s translated to both of their names several times on the YT subs. i’ve tried to look it up but i’m not sure i’m hearing it right 🙈

Thai pronoun: Nai

They are indeed using nai. Hold on I know I posted about that one at some point... AH HA here it is:

you want this section: (but I'll c&p it over here add to it at the bottom)

Nai & the Mafia 

So in 2022 Thai BLs seriously started moving setting outside of the school systems and thus added new pronouns (for us watchers) into the mix. KinnPorsche, Even Sun, and Unforgotten Night all use the pronoun nai (นาย) for you between men. Like many honorifics & pronouns, it’s derived from a minor title of nobility. In the 19th century it was declared the official courtesy title for adult males - regarded as a direct translation of “Mr”. 

It has several different uses today. 

As a title, it only appears before the real given name (not surname), in official/formal contexts, e.g. when writing down one’s name on an exam paper, job application, or government form. If used with a nickname, it implies a bit of irony (like a teacher calling out a misbehaving student). 

As a pronoun, it’s usually an informal second-person pronoun used with males of equal status. It’s a decidedly non-rude word, so it’ll be used among friends/classmates if they don’t feel close enough to use gu/mueng (or if a person just doesn’t use rude pronouns, like swear words there are people who don’t feel comfortable ever saying guu/mueng). 

Rao/nai as pronouns used to be the default mode of address on TV before gu/mueng became acceptable to broadcast in the 2010s. 

When used by females, nai is pretty much equivalent to males using ter with females - so an old fashioned but intimate and sweet, loving. 

On TV, the use of ter/nai is probably most often associated with straight dramas in the acquaintance phase of courting. 

Nai also has the meaning “boss” (similarly to the combined form เจ้านาย (jao nai/chao nai). If it’s being used as a pronoun in a more formal or deferential context (like organized crime), it is used in this sense. 

Usage number 2 & 6 are the ones we see in Thai BL. All that said I understand as a tourist in Thailand, you will hear nai but not all that often. It’s fine to use khun instead/back, but good to know to identify nai. 

Nai & My Love Mix Up

So My Love Mix Up is using #2.

With adult males, nai is actually often paired with chan. (I know, right, but it's what they use. See any of the mafia shows.)

But in this high school setting, Atom & Kongthap seem to be using pom or sometimes even tan. (I haven't touched on tan at all because I find it the most confusing pronoun.)

Atom & Half use guu/mueng. Atom use rao/name with Mudmee, and she does they same with him. Although I think she shifts to chan with Half when they get closer.

Kongthap doesn't seem to ever use informal. Even Half uses nai with him.

So I think the use of polite nai in this relationship is being dictated by Kongthap's character's reserved gentlemanly stiffness (much as in the original show). In other words, were it not for Kongthap's personality, this show in this setting (and with this pair) would be using guu/mueng. But because of the original IP and the extreme reserve of Ida in Kieta Hatsukoi (who also uses quite formal Japanese) we are seeing a linguistic characterization of one half of a couple carry through to the tenor of the whole relationship.

In other words, the use of nai was dictated by Kongthap's personality.

Frankly put, Kongthap would simply not use guu/mueng so they had to find some other way for these two to communicate. Rao/ter is too sweet and cute and old fashioned out the gate (these boys could graduate to it, I suppose, like in college or after).

Now they might have used khun instead of nai. If this were set in uni or the office that would have worked fine. Or even if this were a high school in Bangkok. But I'm not surprised they reached for nai.

In fact, since the announcement of the adaptation I was curious about how they were going to approach Kongthap's pronouns. I thought they might make Kongthap older to solve the issue with phi but they wanted to do the "going away to college together?" part of the plot, so yeah... nai is the solution.

This couple sounds a bit stiff and distanced from each other when speaking together as a result, but I understand why the script chose it.

Hope that explains.

(source)

[torturedblue]

I just love how the Rise bros have their own individual nicknames for each other. They have the ones that they all use for each other of course but the way only Leo calls Mikey Miguel or only Donnie calls Raph Raphala is truly so precious. Nicknames are one of my favorite shows of affection and the fact they have ones specific to different pairs makes their brotherly bond in this show that much tighter 🥺

The way only Mikey calls Leo Leon or calls Donnie Donald is also funny to me because he’s usually giving them attitude when he does it 😂

I think Mikey is the only one who Raph calls Big Man which is just so adorable and disrespectful in its irony lmao

I don’t think Leo would ever do it again if he weren’t delirious from sickness but him calling Raph Raph-a-doodle while continuously talking about hugs is probably the purest thing he’s ever done 😭

And of course my favorite, Donnie calling Leo Nardo. Idek if I even need to explain this one it’s just a cool nickname and I love the Donnie to Leo affection 🤗

What are y’all’s fav special nicknames 🤔

[eds-gryff]

The Weight of Beauty

Edmund Pevensie x Reader

(Requested by @popsixsquish

‘Could I perhaps request some Edmund comforting an insecure reader?’

Again, very sorry it took me over a year to finally get to this! 😬)

A/N: So, this is kind of a confession- I write all my requests and x Reader one-shots with my OC, Sanya, in mind. I write her name and her country and her hair colour, and then I change it to Y/N, etc, after I finish writing.

If you would like, I have a four-part Narnia series on my Wattpad, which is Edmund x (plus-size, POC) Original Character; it is called The Alliance Series (‘Alliance’, ‘The Heirs’, ‘Moonshine’, and ‘Fairytale?’, with ‘Sultana’ as a companion AU), which you might enjoy! If you enjoyed my fics here, and if you liked the Y/N in them, you’ll love Sanya as well as her relationship with Edmund. The marriage and overall background of Edmund and Y/N in this fic are actually based off Edmund and Sanya in Alliance!

Here is the link to my Wattpad⤵

A/N2: You know, I am personally very insecure myself and I am pretty chubby, so writing this down was actually rather cathartic. I’m not madly in love with Edmund like I was when I was sixteen (when I started writing The Alliance Series, btw), but it is still quite comforting to write one of my favourite characters being so complimentary and sweet about something most people are not.

Anyway-

Y/N= Your Name, Y/C/N= Your Country's Name, Y/N/n= Your Nickname, Y/H/C= Your Hair Colour, Y/E/C= Your Eye Colour. Reader is plus-size.

Happy Reading!

---

Y/N knew she had a terrible expression on her face as she strode back to her bedchambers, and she knew it wasn’t the most fitting expression for a Queen whose main work that day had been a diplomatic excursion- but she could not help it! She was usually very good at hiding her innermost emotions, but today had simply gone too far.

“Ugh.” Was the first word- or, sound?- that left her lips as she shut- rather violently- the door of the bedchamber. She let her feet carry her to the large canopy bed that stood in the center of the room, and she immediately fell back on it, absolutely uncaring how it would mess up the hair that her maid had carefully arranged. She couldn’t care less about what she looked like in this moment.

And then she let out a hacking laugh at the irony. This whole predicament was because she cared too much about what she looked like.

After a few minutes- or perhaps hours, Y/N did not know, she was prone to dissociating from reality- she heard the door open. If it had been any other room, she would’ve sat up quickly, ready to fight if it was an intruder, but there was only one other person with the key for this room- and thus, it could only be one person to be coming in the bedchamber currently, for it was his bedroom as much as hers.

Her husband, King Edmund the Just.

“Y/N/n.” Edmund’s tone was rather humorous, and Y/N felt the urge to throw a pillow at him. “I know you are prone to sleeping in, but didn’t you have a diplomatic tour today? With- Terabinthia?”

Curse his good memory.

She made a sound that resembled Troll, but thankfully Edmund knew her well enough to know that she was simply affirming his question.

“Did the delegation not arrive? I am sorry I could not be with you,” Edmund sat down next to his wife, and smiled when she automatically held her hand out to him, which he clasped in his, “but the matter with the villagers took all day. Lucy is still there, I only had to return for a courtier needed a signature very urgently.”

Thankfully, Susan had already signed for it by the time he’d reached, and so he had made his way to his bedchambers instead, for some rest and relaxation.

“They arrived.” Y/N mumbled, eyes closed. She did feel slightly better, though, just the simple act of her husband holding her hand was a comfort. “And they left.”

“Already? Good for you, my antisocial darling.”

She felt the corners of her mouth lift despite herself.

But she said, “I made them leave.”

“Er- not a diplomatic action, that.”

“No, husband, not like that.” Though, she had done that many times before. She was absolutely not the royal who was the first choice for such missions. “They were too embarrassed, so they excused themselves after an hour. Because of me.”

The Just King’s brows furrowed, “Why were they embarrassed?”

She did not answer, but she did open her eyes. Edmund’s chocolate-brown eyes looked down at her, concern and some amusement in them, and she let out a sigh.

“Don’t you wish you were married to someone thin?”

There were not many things or people that caught Edmund off-guard, but his wife was very much an exception, as he learned more and more ever day.

As such, he could only say, “What?”

Sluggishly, the Queen sat up, “Well, you didn’t want to marry me.”

“You didn’t want to marry me, either.” Edmund pointed out immediately. Their marriage had been arranged, part of a political alliance between Narnia and Y/C/N, Y/N’s land. The bride and groom had not been pleased. “And we both loathed the state of our marriage for the first few months.”

This was true. Y/N- who had been titled the Y/N/T not long after this hated wedding- had actually taken to hiding in the Stables to avoid her husband.

Then things had changed and evolved, and they had spent time together and grown closer- and now, now she was so besotted and in love with him, she felt like one half of a couple from some dramatic romance novel.

And she was rather sure he felt the same way.

“Well, yes. But I was attracted to you from the beginning, you know. You are so beautiful, husband. If there is any human worthy of the title of the God of beauty, it is you.” Her voice was soft, and Edmund almost instinctively moved closer to her. “I may have hated you and our marriage, but the saving grace was your beauty and your respectfulness. Oh, and your freckles.”

The accent didn’t hurt, either.

He grinned, “Oh, speak on, please. I am enjoying this turn of conversation very much.”

To her surprise, she laughed out loud, “Of course you are.”

But it seemed she had spoken too soon, for at the same time, Edmund had spoken, “But I would like to finish the previous topic first. What was that about me wanting a thin spouse?”

“Um.” Y/N was regretting saying that suddenly. She was not one to bare her innermost emotions and thoughts often, unless it was in a diary. “Nothing.”

“Y/N.”

Oh, it really was serious if he was calling her by not a pet-name.

“What exactly happened with the Terabinthian delegation?”

The Queen groaned, and fell back in bed again.

“Your Majesty!” The head of the Terabinthian delegation, came over to the carriage in front of which Y/N stood. Curtseying, she spoke, “I am the Duchess of Terabinthia.”

She curtseyed as well, “The Y/N/T Queen, at your service.” While in Narnia, she preferred to use the epithet awarded to her because of her marriage to a Narnian King. If this had been her country, she’d have called herself the High Queen of Y/C/N. “Welcome to Narnia.”

“Thank you verily for making the time to meet us. We are grateful.”

“No need for gratitude, it was our honour.” Y/N said, wishing she could go home already. Why had Peter assigned her to do this? He knew she hated this- oh, that must be exactly why. She was absolutely going to bonk her brother-in-law on the head with her sword the next time they had a duel. “We are most glad you visited Narnia on your tour. And Y/C/N is next, I believe? I will make sure you have the best guide for your travel in my country.”

The Duchess bowed her head in gratitude, and her eyes widened.

“Oh, I did not know! My most heartfelt congratulations.”

Y/N blinked, “Thank you, but for what?”

Yes, she had new shoes on- not by her choice, but her most comfortable pair had actually fallen apart- but that wasn’t something to be congratulated upon.

“You are expecting! It has not been announced, as far as I know, so that must be why you are surprised.” Her face broke in a wide smile, and she did not notice as the Queen’s face withered. “You and King Edmund must be over the Moon.”

Y/N could not say anything. What could she say? That, no, she wasn’t pregnant, she was simply fat. That, no, her breasts had not grown because they would soon nurse a child, but because she had always been ample? That, no, the weight around her middle was not because there was a babe in her womb, but because she was unhealthy and unfit and always had been?

“How far are you along, Your Majesty? I imagine it must be the second trimester- Your Majesty?” The Duchess’s smile faltered. “Is everything- is all well?”

“Yes.” She had to be gracious, diplomatic. She could take off her new shoe and throw it at her, or go hide in her carriage and have a breakdown like she was a teenager again. “But I am not with child, my Duchess, my husband and I have yet to be blessed in that way. I am simply- this is simply how I am.”

The other woman’s eyes widened, and she took a nervous glance back, to the rest of the delegation, who were surely wondering what was taking so long.

“I am so- I cannot apologise enough, Your Majesty, I had no idea- I thought that, because of what you- because you are- I- forgive me.”

“Yes.” Y/N said, though she did not. It wasn’t the Duchess’s fault, she was fat, she knew, which was not common among royalty or nobility.

Still, she couldn’t help but harbour a grudge.

“Well. Shall we on?”

“Oh, I will be sending them a very strongly worded letter.” Edmund said, his face even paler than usual and his eyes burning with anger. Who in their right mind would speak to his beautiful, wonderful, courageous wife in such a way? “How dare-”

“Because it’s the truth. I am fat.” Y/N said, and looked down at herself. She was still garbed in exactly what she had been wearing then. “I can’t even tell myself that she misunderstood because I was bundled up in a cloak and shawl- I wasn’t and am not.”

It was a warm day, in summer. She’d worn a gown with cap-sleeves that the Royal Tailor had recently delivered, with intricate embroidery in an art style belonging to her homeland around the hemline, bodice, and sleeves. It was scarlet and purple and gold, and she had liked it, even loved it, but now she did not think she’d ever wear it again.

Not to mention, she was no beauty, but at least the jewels and crown distracted from the ugliness of her face.

“Y/N/n, you aren’t-”

“Oh, please. You have seen me naked enough times to know I speak the truth!”

He had seen, felt, touched the pudginess of her stomach, the curvy rolls around her sides. He’d gripped her thick thighs, he’d kissed them, and he’d slid his fingers over the dark-red stretch-marks that were present all over her body- her flabby arms, her fat thighs, her plump sides.

She squeezed her eyes shut, “I hate feeling like this. I know my weight does not equal my worth, I know it doesn’t matter that I’m ugly, and I know getting so upset is utterly stupid, but I cannot help it.”

She had felt insecure about her body for as long as she could remember. Even as a child, as one with little care for anything but her playthings, she remembered how she’d been upset when a pretty outfit gifted to her did not fit her, or when she’d preferred to wear something oversized to conceal her heaviness. Granted, no healer had ever said she, then the Princess, was overweight, simply that she was healthy and stout- but when compared to the slender, picturesque folk around her, she had felt and still felt like an elephant in silk.

“How could you not want someone thin- someone beautiful? Someone- someone who’s not me.”

Edmund felt rather at a loss. He always knew what to say, how to take charge of a conversation, how to keep the other person calm- but he felt utterly speechless in the moment. His oft-praised silver-tongue had all but disappeared.

But he knew one thing- he did not agree with his wife.

“My darling.” He lay down beside her as well, and pulled her to him, nestled in his arms. He felt a soft breath of comfort escape her lips, and he was glad. “You say you were attracted to me the moment we met?”

Y/N nodded, hiding her face in his chest, “Even more so when I heard your accent.”

He held back a laugh, and went on, “And you know how I felt when I saw you?”

She shook her head, her Y/H/C hair falling over his blue-and-grey tunic, and Edmund berated himself for never telling her this before.

“I was mesmerised.” He said softly, so softly that Y/N had to look up, her Y/E/C eyes wide. “I would say enchanted, for that would be very true, but you know I have a rather difficult past with enchantments, so let’s stick to mesmerised. I could not take my eyes off you.”

Y/N muttered something that was probably ‘because of the corset’, but her cheeks were on fire.

Admittedly, his wife’s breasts had been rather pushed up and obvious because of the corset she’d worn under her outfit during their first meeting- and, yes, Edmund had not been able to stop himself from blatantly staring for a few seconds- but he was not speaking of that.

“You were rolling your eyes as you were formally announced-”

Almost predictably, she rolled her eyes again, and her husband did laugh softly this time.

“And I remember you were holding onto your own arm, as if comforting yourself, as if reminding yourself to be strong.” He spoke, dipping his head to press a kiss to her forehead. “Just by those two actions, you had my respect and my admiration, and then your beauty had my enthrallment as well.”

“Edmund...”

“You may not be what utterly vapid folk all over the world consider to the epitome of beauty,” which he absolutely did not, “but that did not stop me from thinking you to be the goddess of my dreams.”

She pressed her body closer to his, almost instinctively, as if her very skin wanted to be nearer to him.

“A thought I still have every single day.”

Emotion sparkled in her eyes.

“Really?”

And she still doubted him. Of course.

“Yes.”

“Even though I’m fat, and lumbering, and don’t even get me started on my nose-”

He wanted to throw a pillow at her, but restrained himself to saying, “Would you do me a favour?”

“I would die and kill for you, Edmund.” Y/N gave her husband a fond look. After what he had just said- oh, she had not thought she could have loved him any more than she already had, but she did! So, so much. She wanted to kiss him already. “Yes, of course, what is it?”

Edmund’s lips curved, “Could I undress you?”

Well, she would never be saying no to that.

She nodded, far too excited yet far beyond caring about seeming pathetic- and, soon enough, Edmund’s clever fingers were undoing laces and pulling down fabric and ghosting over her bare skin.

Once she was naked, Y/N reached for her husband, to make the situation equal, but he took her hands in his instead, before she could grip and tear at his tunic.

“What?” She asked impatiently. She wasn’t insecure in front of him anymore, she hadn’t been in years, not since the first time they had made love. All she thought when she was nude around him, was that she wanted him to be that way as well. “Let me undress you already, so we can-”

“That’s not what I meant.” He said, his freckled cheeks blushing. His wife cocked her head at him, and he elaborated, “I want you to know something- see something.”

Her eyes narrowed, “If you’re going to stand me in front of the mirror to look at my bare body, I will get my sword right now and tear your limbs instead of your clothes.”

Edmund’s intentions may be noble, but there was nothing Y/N hated the sight of more than her ungainly figure in the mirror.

Except vegetable mash. Ugh.

Ah, how delightfully murderous his darling wife was. Her country and his own was lucky to have her.

“No, no.” And he lay Y/N down on their bed, her hands clasped under her breasts, and she was giving him with a quizzical look the entire time.

He climbed carefully on top of her, half-covering her body with his, and pretended he didn’t notice Y/N rolling her hips against a part of his body that was extremely fond of his wife and extremely susceptible to her- to her everything.

“I want you to know exactly how I see you- and, hopefully, one day, via you gaining some sense or via osmosis or whatever, you’ll see it, too.”

What was osmosis?

Y/N was about to ask, but her words and her breath was stolen when she felt Edmund’s kisses on the space between her breasts.

But his hands were not on her breasts, as she’d hoped- they were on her plump upper arms, and he was speaking in a whisper to the hollow of her throat, “I see these as strength. I see these as proof that you are the most skilled swordsperson I know, the strongest person I know.”

His hands wandered down her arms to the pudgy rolls of her stomach, and Y/N squirmed. She could not help but think she was glad she had missed breakfast and had yet to have lunch, otherwise she’d be even fatter.

But Edmund was not thinking about her diet, he was speaking, still in that soft, reverential tone, “You call these pudgy, you think this is fat? Even if it is, I don’t care. Because I see this as you being healthy, as a sign that you will be with me for a long, long time, that you won’t be snatched away from me by cruel disease or anything like that.”

“Never.” Y/N vowed breathlessly- she would never leave him, she would fight time itself if necessary. “We’ll always be together.”

His response was a kiss to her throat, and his hands finally reached her breasts.

She wanted to close her eyes, to revel in his touch and know no other senses- but he was looking at her, his dark twinkling eyes never wavering from her face, and she could not look away.

He squeezed them, fingers glancing over her hard nipples, and said, “Want to know what I think of these?”

Y/N could only nod, too eager and too wanton and too in love.

“Fucking sexy.”

And his mouth met hers, finally, finally, finally.

It was a passionate kiss, for there had not been a single day in their lives together they had not desired each other- but as much as there was lust, there was love. As they kissed, Edmund’s heart was soothed because Y/N’s lips were warm on his- and Y/N’s soul was comforted, because Edmund’s mouth was steady against hers. His hand grazed against her breast again, and she slid her tongue inside his mouth, and they both drew even closer together in their embrace.

One of Y/N’s hands slipped inside Edmund breeches, inside his boxers, and wrapped itself around him. Edmund gasped into his wife’s mouth as he felt her touch, and Y/N’s hips rolled against his, her hands already stroking her husband’s cock.

But all too soon, Edmund pulled away, panting.

“Too daring, darling.” He said, as breathless as she’d been minutes ago. “I was trying to make a point, not-”

“Make love?” Y/N asked, her brows raised. She was sopping, needy, and she didn’t think she’d ever loved him more. Please, please, please could he take off his clothes already? “If there is a vote between the two, husband, I will be voting the latter, just for your information.”

“Noted,” Edmund kissed her shoulder, “but I am not done.”

He drew away from her, and Y/N groaned. Sitting up between her parted legs, Edmund took a moment to look down at his wife. At the expanse of her soft skin, occasionally marked with a mole or pimple or scar. At the curves that had made her ravishing to him the first time he’d seen her, and which had continued to only grow in loveliness over the years. At the valley between her legs, at the dips in her sides as her hips flared out.

Y/N was curves and dips and valleys, and he could not help but be glad she was not thin as a lamp-post, and Edmund thought of how- to him- her body was perfect to kiss and hold and caress and love.

He smiled suddenly, “You know, sometimes when I can’t sleep, I look at you, and I try to decide which is my favourite curve on your body.”

She blinked very rapidly. That was far more romantic than counting sheep- or dragons, as she preferred.

Sometimes, in her most lovelorn moments, she would count Edmund’s freckles. She usually got too distracted by them to actually sleep, though.

“Have you- have you ever made a decision?”

Edmund shook his head, his unruly bangs falling into his eyes.

“Sometimes I think it’s this.” He ran her hand down the bend of her right side, “sometimes this-” he gripped her left thigh just above where it met her knee, “and sometimes- often, actually- your tits.”

Y/N giggled.

Edmund bent his head low then, still holding her thighs. He peppered kisses to the stretch marks painted over her thighs and her waist, and felt a tight, hot coiling inside the pit of his stomach as Y/N trembled in pleasure underneath him.

“What do those tell you?” Y/N asked, her voice a murmur. She wrapped her legs around him, locking him in place. If she could keep him here forever, she would. She felt so content, so calm in his arms- apart from the raging want to fuck him. “My stretch-marks?”

“You’re marked by the Heavens.” His voice caught, almost, and he almost shivered at the intensity of her eyes. “They resemble lightning strikes, you know? And lightning, like storms, like the rain, comes from the Heavens.”

Hm. She’d compared her stretch marks to dead worms before, because they were roughly the same shade, but beautiful rain, which covered the earth with an even more beautiful smell whenever it fell?

“How am I supposed to keep thinking of myself as ugly, if you keep saying things like that?”

It was not quite a victory, but it was close enough.

“Exactly. You’re not supposed to think of yourself as that, because you’re as far from that as I can imagine.”

Her heart thudded in her chest, and seemed to grow. They had made love so many times in- in so many ways, so many places- but she was certain that this was the most intimate moment they had ever shared.

“You can’t just kiss away all of my insecurities.” She spoke with a small laugh, as Edmund lifted his head up to gaze at her. She really wished he could, but neither of them could wholly and fully heal the pain inside each other. “Try as you might, it’s not possible.”

“Well, I’ll still keep trying.” He shrugged, and pressed a very light kiss to her clit, which made Y/N moan out loud. He would absolutely have to lavish more attention there, he decided firmly, he was as amorous as she was. “I love you. I love you, and you are the love of my life, Y/N/n, and you are beautiful.”

She pulled him down next to her again, and she nestled herself closer to him. Edmund’s arms encircled her, and she was glad to be the little spoon. She was usually very glad to be the big spoon, holding her husband in her arms, but she loved this position very much, too.

Y/N didn’t think of herself as truly beautiful, and perhaps never would; Y/N did not think of her being plump in a positive light, and perhaps never would- but in this moment, and many other moments after this, Y/N would look down at herself, and she would not recoil, she would not grimace, she would only remember her husband’s words, and she would remember her strength and her bravery and the fact that she was alive, and she would no longer be cruel to her own self.

In this moment, and in many other moments after this, there was peace- in her mind as well as his, and in their hearts and souls, which perhaps were as joined together as the Moon and the stars.

Until there came knocks on the door minutes later, and Y/N all but shoved Edmund to open it. He gave her a look, but could do nothing more- she was naked, after all, she couldn’t open the door. Drat, he really didn’t want to get up.

Regardless, he kissed her nose, which scrunched up in the most adorable manner, and got out of bed.

Ah, the struggles of Kingship.

“I’m sorry to disturb, Your Majesty, but Queen Susan asked to inform you and Queen Y/N that lunch has been laid.”

“Oh, thank you very much,” Edmund said, after a glance back at his wife, who was smiling lazily at him over the tops of her breasts. He felt a blush coming on again. “But my Queen-wife and I are both feeling a bit under the weather, and I was about to request someone to bring our meal up to our chambers. Perhaps after half an hour?”

The faun bowed, “I shall have that be done, Your Majesty, thank you very much. My well-wishes for you and Her Majesty Y/N to soon feel better.”

Edmund nodded his head at him, a gracious smile on his face- and once the faun had departed, he closed the door and returned to the bed.

He snuggled close to his wife, who wrapped her arms around him. He felt perfectly, incandescently warm, and spoke into her shoulder, “I figured you would not want to face the world again today.”

She kissed his hair, saying, “You assume right, but what about you?”

“Oh, I prefer you to the world, by leaps and bounds.”

“I love you, husband.” Y/N said simply, and he pressed a short, chaste, yet endlessly loving kiss to her lips. “Anyway, now will you take off your clothes?”

Edmund matched her smirk with his, “How about you take them off for me, Y/N/n?”

Not another insecurity was thought of again that day, and the faun had to return with their meals four times before the King and Queen finally opened the door.

--

[stylesispunk]

"I couldn't want you anymore" | part 7

Artist! Joel Miller x Florist! Reader

series masterlist | previous chapter | next

summary: when Sarah's mom comes back into Joel's life to fight for their past relationship, Joel needs to convince her he is in a happy relationship with the florist next to his gallery in order to make her go away. The problem is, that he and the florist can't stand each other's guts or that it's what he thinks.

warning: age gap (Joel is 36 and reader is 28). Remember that "Bee" is the reader's nickname, angst as always, fighting between our two main characters + smut, and fluff.

a/n: Hello! Chapter 6 is here. First, I want to thank every one of you for reading and reblog and comment on my story, it makes my heart happy. This chapter is shorter than the last two, but is a chapter I had to rewrite 3 times because, but I didn't like it at all, but I hope you do a little bit at least? haha. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated and please share your thoughts with me, I love reading from you No proofreading so I'm sorry for any grammar mistakes. Happy reading. 💌

masterlist

It's been two weeks since your last visit to Joel's place. It's been two weeks since you showed up on his doorstep, angry and broken because you blamed him for wrecking your plans to move on and start a new life, and two weeks since he kissed you.

Two weeks, and Joel had started to become crazy because of your radio silence.

He had thought that after your emotional outburst, you would simply need time to think, hoping that you would return sooner and ask him to try, for real this time.

After three months of not having you that close, he had replayed every moment of with you, every touch, your eyes, and the taste of your lips. He had poured his heart out to you, declared his love, and yet your response was requesting time to consider his intentions.

He feared you were tired of him, and the accident's wounds didn't hurt as much as his heart. He was recovering faster, yet his emotions were pained.

He recalled the night he crushed your heart, thinking this is exactly how you felt when you said "I love you" and he failed to respond the same back. For him, the irony of pain was how badly you wanted to be comforted by the one who hurt you, but now it was you who wasn't there.

The longing for you got stronger as the days passed, and it became increasingly difficult for him to sit still and wait for you to reach for him. Joel acknowledged that your silence wasn't completely a rejection, but he was afraid that the distance you were creating might shatter what was left of your story.

He didn't want you to become a memory; instead, he wanted to create memories with you.

"I think she's being unfair to Joel," Tommy said over dinner, seeing Sarah, Lily, and Joel's gaze on him.

"Why do you mean by that?" Lily asked, defiantly

 "Joel told her he loved him, wasn't that what she wanted?" he inquired.

Joel threw his brother a cautionary stare as Lily scoffed.

"No, no, it wasn't. She didn't stay because of him."

The weight of the conversation was pressing down on Joel. He was aware that everyone around him were concerned about him, but at the same time he hated how everyone had a say about you and him, not knowing what really was involved.

"It's not like he forced her to stay," Tommy continued.

Joel's irritation was rising, and he felt the tension between his brother and Lily; after all, she was your best friend, and she would defend you from everyone.

Joel pushed his plate aside, feeling that he was in an endless cycle of emotional limbo as he lost his appetite. All he wanted was to have you back in his life, but that was a decision only you could make, and it was driving him insane.

"Can you both stop?" Joel interfered, his voice firm. "I don't need you two fighting over something that was my mistake."

Tommy and Lily fell silent, their expressions softening with concern. They exchanged a glance before Lily spoke, her tone gentler now. "Joel, Tommy is worried about you. We can see how much you're hurting."

Joel nodded, acknowledging their concern. "I know. Thanks for looking out for me, but this is something I have to figure out with Bee. If she needs time, I'll give her time, even if it kills me”

Tommy, understanding his brother's feelings, nodded in agreement. "You're right, Joel. We'll be here for you, no matter what."

Joel appreciated their support, but he couldn't help but wish that you would break the silence and give him some clarity about your feelings. The uncertainty was becoming almost unbearable.

Joel continued going back to the moments you'd had, your most recent overwhelming argument, and your decision to take some time apart. He wished he could break the stillness and tell you how much he loved you. He wasn't just driven by the desire to fix his mistake; he also wanted to repair a relationship that had been harmed due to his commitment.

He felt more anxious with each passing day, his longing for your presence almost unnerving. The gap between you required to be filled with understanding, trust, and reconciliation.

He'd been on edge for days, spending his days recovering from the accident, alone when Sarah departed for school, with only a painful silence echoing in the back of his mind, waiting for any sign from you.

When the doorbell rang one hour later, he felt a rush of hope running through his body, thinking that maybe you had finally come to him to talk things through. He rushed to the door and opened it, only to find you standing there with a serious expression and small envelope in your hand.

"Joel," you said before he had a chance to say something "I've come to give you this."

He was taken aback, expecting an emotional talk rather than a monotonous tone leaking through your voice, indicating an absence of enthusiasm.

You didn't even look like yourself; you were painted in grey shades.

"What's that?" he asked.

You handed him the envelope containing the money he had paid Connell for your shop behind your back "I don't need anything from you, Joel. Not your pity, not the idea that you own me because you bought my shop. I can take care of myself."

Joel's face contorted with an array of emotions as he was taken aback by your words. "Bee, it's not about that. I—"

But you cut him off, your frustration evident in your voice. "Joel, you can't just buy something I love, throw your money at my back, or kiss me and expect everything to be fine." You won't be able to buy your way back into my life."

He struggled to hold back his anger in the midst of your stubbornness any longer. "I'm not attempting to bribe my way in, Bee. I thought I was showing how much I cared, how much I was willing to do to in order to make things right."

Your eyes were filled with rage. "What?" you ask. "You thought that once I found out you were the one buying my shop, I was going to run back to you?" "That I was going to be over heals for you?" you hit him in the chest.

Joel's rage and pain welled up within him. He tried to narrow the gap between you and make amends, but every step he took appeared to push you farther away. In an outburst of rage, he cried out, "What do you want from me, Bee?" "How long will it take for us to get things right?"

You shook your head, the annoyance clear in your voice. "You can't expect grand gestures to fix everything." It takes time, effort, and faith to repair what has been damaged."

"All right," he said, taking a step closer to you and leaning in closer. "If you despise me that much, leave!" "Leave as you said you were going to"

You stared at him agape, your own anger rising at him. His words stung.

Joel's remarks had hurt deep, and you couldn't deny that you had been holding resentment and rage. But his closeness, his intensity, made you feel weak "Maybe you want to go back to what we used to be, all the fighting, all the cursing," he whispered in your ear, "Maybe you loved that."

The harsh tone of his words caught you off guard. Your feelings for one other were a tangled knot of love, anger, impatience, and hurt.

You were drawn in by his dark gaze, and you cupped his face firmly feeling the warmth of the skin beneath your fingertips. The rage remained, but beneath it was an obvious spell that kept you together.

"Shut up," you commanded, your stare locked on his, his lips inches from yours, his breath against your mouth.

"Make me," he challenged you, staring you in the eyes.

Joel's dare hung in the air, challenging you to break the distance dividing you, to let go of your rage and fury, and eventually give in to the magnetic pull that had always been between you.

You crashed both of your lips with not a single word, going into an intense kiss. It was laced with desire and frustration against each other, the climax of all the tension that had been building over the weeks you were together once and three months apart. Your lips moved eagerly together, each of you pouring all of your feelings into the kiss.

And now that his arm was healed, he clutched your hips and push you against the door, without intentions of stopping devouring your mouth in this hungry kiss. Your arms found their way to his neck to tangle into his locks, and Joel groaned into your mouth.

"You fucking idiot," you muttered between kisses, but he bit your bottom lip to silence you as his hands moved from your hips to your bum and to your waist, drawing you closer to him. His lips started kissing your neck until they found your mouth once more, you whimpered against his mouth.

His hands found the gem in your top and yanked it off. He'd spent the last three months longing to see you like this again, and now he was on cloud nine.

"Bedroom," he whispered softly, not breaking the kiss.

Once you stepped in his room, you were lying on your back with him on top, taking your lips back to his again.

You placed your arms around his neck and opened your legs so he could go closer to you, moaning at the sensation of him against where you wanted him most.

"This doesn't mean anything," you whispered as he ground his hips against yours, sending electricity running through your body.

"Shut up," he said, and you chuckled, grabbing his pants.

"Make me," you said, with a smirk on your face just like he did minutes ago.

He groaned into the skin of your neck, yanking his jeans and underwear off. Your gentle grasp on him caused him to whimper.

He drew you closer to him by your hips as you continued to devour one other, his hands going under the denim skirt you were wearing.

You knew this was bad, that allowing him to do these types of things with you was a show of weakness, but you couldn't stop the joy and the dazzling fireworks traveling up to your lower stomach were stronger than your thoughts. You were utterly out of breath, and you wanted him so bad it ached that you felt your lungs would catch fire. 

You couldn't really comprehend what he was saying on the skin of your chest because your mind was consumed by the overwhelming desire to have him as you needed right now.

You couldn't really comprehend what he was saying on the skin of your chest because your mind was consumed by the overwhelming desire to have him as you needed right now.

He paused kissing you and spreading kisses on your chest for a moment to gaze at your parted lips and your chest rising and falling as a result of him, and he couldn't lie, he felt proud of his lasting control over you.

"Are you going to keep looking or are you going to f-"

You couldn't finish before he snatched your lips back, dragging you around his waist and grinding himself against you, making you moan against his lips. With such want, you could feel the aching growing up between your tights.

"You don't seem so mad at me right now, do you?" he huskily whispered in your ear, making your knees weak.

Before you could fire your retort, his fingers teasingly pulled your underwear down, careful to avoid where you wanted him the most. He seemed to be having a good time and enjoying every second of you squirming under him. Your head fell back to the bed, a gentle but irritated murmur from your lips. When he saw your reaction, he smiled, and you felt the delicate touch of his fingers stroking across your core.

"Oh," you whimpered, out of breath.

His soft lips caressed every single area of your skin on your chest, just over your red bra, with an agonizing slowness that made you insane and roll your eyes of pure pleasure. The one he unhooked with one hand so swiftly you gasped, a sound drowned out by the sensation of his lips over your nipples while he continued to pound on you at your core.

He greets you with a laugh, his cheeks exposing his dimples, and his eyes shining at the sight of you.

"Stop teasing, you idiot," you grumbled.

He sucked on a nipple, causing your back to arch as he gripped your hips to the bed before meeting your eyes, absorbing every inch of your face lost in the joy of the moment, stroking your checks with his thumb.

As he grabbed for a condom from his bedside table, you grip the gem of his t-shirt to remove it, leaving no barrier between the two of you.

He moved between your tights, spreading them apart once more, and welcomed himself into you. You hadn't had him since that night when you confessed to him, and he felt even bigger than you remembered, and you both gasped when he began thrusting inside. He pushed his forehead against your neck, kissing you softly over the skin.

"You're amazing like this," he said into your ear, "God I could just-"

He could complete it since he focused solely on making you pleased picking up his pace and thrusting quicker. He was completely inside you, feeling like he was breaking down your defenses as he pushed it on and on. You were out of breath, and all the air in your lungs didn't feel quite enough. You bucked your hips, allowing him to move even more quickly. And that's exactly what he did, giving you everything you asked for.

As your nails left red lines on his naked back and he thrust his hips harder into you, you could feel the heat spreading all over your body, like diesel meeting fire, causing an imminent explosion.

You struggled to breathe, but it didn't matter since the surge of ectasis he gave you was enough to make you feel alive. His finger traced the patterns over you, leaving hot flames all over your skin, and you clutched him, trying to appreciate this closeness before it was ripped away.

And he continued to rock into you. The sounds you both produced were completely hot, forcing your blood to rush into your checks as you continued to toss your head back to give him permission to mark the skin of your neck.

"Fuck you," you said in ecstasy,

"you’re doing it, love" he retorted.

You grasped for his hair to hold him tight against your lips, kissing the warm skin under his ear as if you wanted him to hear you, panting for air, feeling your climax come so close that you trembled against his body. Not long after, your world spun around you, and you tightened your grip on his waist, feeling the release as you cursed in his ear, forcing him to release after you. His push grew sloppy, sending small sparks up your tights, till he came to a halt and you saw a delicious sight.

He kissed your temple for a few seconds longer, enjoying the sweat drips on your skin. Finally, you looked into his eyes. His brow eyes' delicate brightness sent thrills down your spine, leaving you with a lump in your throat.

 Joel chuckled as he caressed your warm face, his touch on your skin radiating affection. All of the tension and resentment that led you to have sex before disappeared into the void.

"You don't have to go anywhere," he leaned in, his lips brushing against your brow. You're exactly where you should be."

You closed your eyes, appreciating his proximity and the soothing sound of his voice. “How can I trust you?”

Joel's lips lingered on your forehead as he replied, his words filled with sincerity, "Because when I hold you like this, it's where I find peace and meaning, Bee. I was a fool not to see it then. It took almost losing you to realize I'm in love with you."

Your eyes met his, and for a moment, everything seemed to align. The honesty in his confession left you breathless. The anger, the passion, and the pain you both had shared had led you to this moment, where the love you had for each other was undeniable.

Your heart ached at his words "Joel, it's not that simple. There's so much we need to work through, so much we need to rebuild."

He nodded, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. "I know, Bee”

Joel rested his forehead against yours, enveloping the both of you in comfortable silence.

“Can you give me my clothes, please?” You asked breaking the atmosphere

With a heavy heart, Joel nodded and reluctantly pulled away from you.

He moved to take your clothes from the ground of his bedroom and handed them to you. The air between you felt charged. The lust, and passion you felt for each other leaded you to crossed the line once again, this time, being the anger, the main feeling holding you together.

“You don’t have to go now, you know that?” he pleaded,

You avoid looking into his eyes, you knew you were weak for the man and you could fall for his words.

“I know, but I need to” you answered, as you quickly dressed, convincing yourself, you didn’t want to give yourself so easily to him again.

"Can you give me my clothes, please?" You spoke, breaking the comfortable silence between you two. 

Joel nodded, involuntarily breaking away from you, with a heavy heart.

He took your clothes from the floor of his bedroom and handed them to you. The space between you now felt tense again. The lust and passion you had for each other drove you to cross the boundary once more, but this time with fury as the main feeling holding you together.

"You don't have to go now, you know that?" He begged,

You avoid looking into his eyes because you know that you were vulnerable for him and you might be persuaded by his words.

"I know, but I have to," you replied as you hurriedly dressed, assuring yourself that you didn't want to give yourself so easily to him.

Joel sat there silently watching you, his eyes full with love and need for you. He knew what had just happened was fueled by rage and desire, and that didn't mean you were okay with him. It would be difficult to repair your connection.

You turned to face Joel as you finished dressing. "I need some time, Joel." Time to reflect, heal, and figure out where we stand."

“It was good by the way” you addressed smiling at him, referring to what you’d had “But it doesn’t mean I want to be with you right now."

With those words, you made your way to his bedroom door.

“And what was that back at the hospital when I got into the accident?” he asked before you left, “Would you rather for me to be dead or what?”

You came to a halt as his words impacted you like a punch in the gut. You turned back to face Joel, your rage returning.

"That's not fair, Joel," you replied, your voice shaking with emotion. "You know I would rather die than lose you like that".

"Then why are you so scared?" he questioned, reaching for you once more.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to fight the oncoming storm of emotions. "Because I'm not just afraid of losing you." I'm afraid I'll lose myself again. "I'm afraid of getting hurt." You let out a sigh. "You led me on back then, how can I trust you again?"

Joel took a step closer, his voice desperate. "I promise not to hurt you again, Bee." I've learned from my errors. Give us a chance to make things right."

You shook your head, unable to find the appropriate words. "Joel, I need more than promises. I need time for healing and rebuild trust. That is a process that cannot be rushed."

Joel sagged his shoulders and ran a hand through his hair, clearly distressed. "I'm at a loss for words, Bee. I love you and will do everything for you."

You took a step back, putting distance between you two. "Joel, love is more than just saying the words. It's all about showing it through actions."

You turned and walked away from Joel, leaving him with a broken heart and a need that mirrored your own.

You had taken refuge in your own peace a week later, evaluating your alternatives in all facets of your life. What were you going to do with your work, yourself, and even Connell, since despite his assurances that he would never hate you, you own him more than you realize.

And on the opposite side, there was Joel. He had expressed his love for you, but you had learned that words are insufficient in this instance. You knew it would take time to reestablish confidence. But as time passed, you couldn't help but miss him even more than you did the first time. He had a tremendous power over you. The times you spent together, the laughter, the shared moments, and how he taught you to fall in love again.

You remembered that night at the gallery when he showed you the drawing he had made of you. When he first caressed the skin of your body, leaving his mark on you.

Deep down, you knew that love was a tricky and imperfect emotion that didn't always follow a straight line. Despite your concerns, you wished to give Joel another chance.

A knock on the door broke through your thoughts. You jumped up from the couch, cautiously approaching the door. When you opened it, you were surprised to see Lauren standing on your porch. She looked concerned, her gaze avoiding direct contact with yours.

"Lauren, what are you doing here?" "How do you know where I live?" you wondered. Your tone was a mix of surprise and curiosity.

Lauren took a big breath and looked you in the eyes. "I need to speak with you. "Can I come in?"

You hesitated for a second before stepping aside and allowing her to enter. She entered your living room and sat, her posture eager and apprehensive.

You joined her on the couch after closing the door behind her. "What's this about, Lauren?"

Lauren looked at you, her eyes searching for understanding. “I know our first encounter wasn’t friendly, and I want to apologize. I’m truly sorry for the way I acted”

Lauren's honesty in her eyes was not lost on you. You were afraid she was coming to tell you she was now with Joel, which could break your heart.

Lauren continued "And I'm really ashamed of this but I think you should forgive Joel"

You took a big breath, unsure what to say. Lauren's apologies caught you off guard, and you were at a loss for words. "I appreciate your apology, Lauren," you said after a little pause. It means a lot to me." "But Joel isn't a topic I want to discuss with you," you said timidly.

"It is," she replied. "I know you weren't together. He told me."

Your pupils dilated, and you couldn't help but feel embarrassed.

"And yes, at first I wanted to be with him," she admitted. "I wanted my family back, but it's too late now." And I have to thank Sarah for accepting me back into her life after what I did, but Joel? will never love me again."

"Why are you so sure?" you questioned, your tone tense.

"Because he has been in love since the beginning."

"The eyes, he had been looking at you with such adoration, neither I had those eyes looking at me like that."

You were out of breath, and a knot formed in your throat.

"No, that's not-"

"You love him too," she said, "and let me tell you something, the years I lost with Sarah?" I'm not going to get them back. So, if you and Joel truly love each other, don't waste more time."

Lauren's sudden comments stunned you while also leaving you conflicted. Her apology for her prior behavior was a step toward peacemaking, but her admissions regarding Joel and his sentiments caught you off guard.

You paused before responding, your mind racing, "I'm not sure I want to get hurt again."

She nodded in agreement, and he dug inside her purse for something, that turned out to be a journal.

She nodded in understanding, and then he reached for something inside her bag for something, it was a journal.

“I stole this from Joel. I think you should take a look” she laughed, giving the journal to you.

“I just don't want to see you both miss out on something beautiful because of fear or doubts. Life's too short for regrets."

You looked at her with a mixture of gratitude and uncertainty. "I need time, Lauren, to figure things out and heal. I'll consider what you've said, though. Thank you for your apology and for your concern."

Lauren smiled warmly at you “Good luck” she said.

You couldn't help but stare at the book in your hands as you saw Lauren leave your house.

The journal she had given you caught your curiosity, and you couldn't stop yourself from opening it to find out what was inside.

You started flipping the pages, knowing it was Joel's journal. The entries spanned several years ago, from the years you arrived here, and reading them made you feel touched by the depth of his feelings and the journey he had been on. The pages were crammed with his ideas, hopes, and dreams, many of which were centered on you.

Joel had written about the day you two first met and the times he had spent with you, but it was the drawings of you that grabbed your attention.

"The pretty florist next to my gallery looking at her flowers"

"The florist in her environment, framed by a floral tapestry."

"The pretty florist, a captivating muse for my brush and canvas."

All of the entries were from the last four years.

However, the most recent one, from a year ago,

"the florist who stole my heart"

And you realized Joel had been loving you long before you had feelings for him.

a/n: Okay, so you know things may get better between them...

tags 💌: @joeldjarin @borhapparker @fatima-marisa @kirsteng42 @paleidiot @harriedandharassed @runningmom94 @pedr0swh0r3 @ssacharcoalgrey @missladym1981

[satanic-saint]

Okay, after some further reflection, I would say Dirk is the type of person who would likely have OSDD while Dave is the one to develop DID. SO here's my thoughts on Dave Strider having Dissociative Identity Disorder. I'm a lil hung over, but enjoy my ramblings.

Dave would struggle to connect with other alters I think. As the present host through teen years and young adulthood (before gaining a diagnosis or revelation of his issues), Dave would probably just view his alters' names as a list of nicknames. Hell, that's what I went through until I was 21 and a half or something. He brushes off the severity of how his childhood effected him. He thinks his list of nicknames is just some odd way he switches things up once in a while. But then he starts to realize... there's memory gaps? And things are kind of blurry sometimes. He can connect the dots, but he has no idea he's asking to go by a different name more often but only for extended periods. Once he finally lays everything out for Rose, she's the one that finally catches on, letting him know he probably has Dissociative Identity Disorder.

Dave has other alters than his main 5, but they're fragments and struggle to be identified for a long time.

Dave- He/It. General host, the typical Dave most know. Very ironic and makes a joke out of a lot of things. Dave jokes it's a nonbinary-cisgender person- "for the irony" he says Davie- He/Him. Repressed child core alter, somewhere between 6-8 years old mentally. He's dormant for a long time until Dave starts working through his childhood trauma and when Davie first fronts, it's a mess for everyone involved because he has no idea where he is. Rose has to walk June or Karkat through calming him over the phone. Davie knows who Dirk and Roxy are, but only ever calls Roxy mom or dad. She makes him feel safe. Sprite- They/Them. They have this peculiar love for crows, makes a few bird puns here and there. They seem to be more depressed than the other alters. Or at least more regularly depressed. They get along rather well with Dirk's AR system and have been caught a few times purposely having conversations with Lil Hal for personal comfort. They like Jade a lot, takes interest in her furry stuff. However, his semi-negative attribute is that he's similar to a self-destructive persecutor alter because he's rather defensive sometimes and will stop things or break things off before they can get too bad. He's purposefully started fights with June and Karkat before to try pushing them away. Lizzy- She/Her. She picks her name from Dave's own middle name (Elizabeth). I say she becomes the main host later in life, but she's also terrified of being rejected by the world. The idea of openly transitioning is scary and when the system is reaching success in the film industry in their late 20s/early 30s, she thinks it's too late and struggles with that. Out of all the alters, she masks herself fronting the most once the system is aware of itself. She shares some of Davie's memories and the offensive way in which she was raised by Bro makes her feel bad about herself sometimes. Alpha- He/Him. Mentally older than Dave the host. Works somewhat as a caretaker and protector in the system. He's beyond monotone and doesn't react much to things. However, if someone does the system wrong, Alpha is the one who loses his cool and calls the person out. He focuses on taking care of and regulating Davie, though also feels nurturing emotions for Lizzy.

[daenakills]

His dark eyes.

Tom riddle x fem!reader

part 1

part 2. i will make more so don't worry this is kind of short. english isn't my first language so lmk there's any mistake. this is for fun.

You calmly wrote down your assigned potion's homework. Slughorn always found a way to assign tasks that, although they seemed difficult at the beginning, ended up being easy, and you even got a reward at the end. That was your favourite part.

The door opened suddenly, revealing a slightly upset Tom, which wasn't strange but at the same time, when you consider it, it was. He usually didn't show it so openly, you realized you knew him completely, or at least that's what you thought.

“I notice you're upset, my love.” Anyone who heard this phrase that you had addressed to Tom would have thought that it was just a loving nickname, but he knew perfectly well it was just irony. “Has something happened?” In response, he slowly turned his head to look at you.

“Where are my books?”

“I don't know, probably in your room. I highly doubt they're here. Besides, I cannot understand how you manage to get into the ladies room.” He ignored your question, and started searching through your clothes and things. No matter how much you could tell him to stop, you knew he wasn't going to, so you didn't even try. When he finished searching for what he wanted, he left without looking back.

It was depressing. It was depressing knowing that you were being used, and you cursed the day you decided to confess to Tom Riddle. Likewise, it had been almost a year. You could have had such a nice future, maybe fallen in love and married one of your classmates, but no, you decided to confess to the psychopath. You hoped that one day you could travel back to yesterday and return unscathed. Curled up in your bed, you allowed yourself to cry, and your voice was never louder.

Already in the dining room, with your mind blank and already recovered (not completely) from your little cry, the girls were trying to find conversations with you. You were wondering why. Usually when they talked to you, it was to get information from you about something that interested them. In fact, before becoming Tom's girlfriend you had never talked to so many people, apparently they didn't find you interesting. You kept questioning yourself internally what they wanted from you until one of them finally made her intentions clear.

“And… we were all wondering if you've had… you know, with Tom.” You were stunned. He had not prepared you for that type of question, and not in a thousand years would you have been able to answer it. The others who were around told that girl, Martha, to have a little more filter when she talked about those things.

The truth was that you hadn't had your first time, not even with Simón, he died before they could make that breakthrough. Everyone in your class had already had relationships with their boyfriends, and it was logical that those who were single (and those who were not also) were interested in knowing how good the beloved Tom Riddle was in bed. Obviously, you couldn't tell them that you felt an extreme repulsion towards the man who was your boyfriend, since that would completely damage their plan to deceive the professor. That prompted you to find him and ask him a question.

“Do we really need to stick with the plan?”

You had taken a while to look for him but when you found him he was talking to Professor Slughorn about a topic you didn't know about. Tom said goodbye to Slughorn, saying that he was going to attend to his beautiful girlfriend. You wondered if he was the teacher Tom talked so much about.

“Obviously, we must continue with the plan, dear.” He said with that voice that used to drive you crazy. “Why are you asking now? Is there another Simon out there?” He laughed sarcastically, you hated that laugh since you knew it wasn't genuine, it was genuine mockery and that was another topic.

“I just think everyone already understood that you love, you don't need me any more.” While you were saying those words you fixed your eyes on the floor, your gaze did not connect with his, it intimidated you to look at him. His penetrating gaze activated all the alarms in your body, telling you to leave, that something bad was going to happen. But you stayed to wait for his response.

“Okay. Let's do it, let's finish it. I can easily find a replacement. Do not think you're the only one. You're not, you're just another one of the bunch, who they are just going to use and throw away when they get what they want from you. People like you will not survive in the world I am going to create.” Your eyes were flooding with tears, you didn't want to blink since you knew that if you did, the sea of ​​tears would come to light. “Stop crying, you know I hate seeing you cry!” He grabbed your face and crushed it in his hands, “You look horrible when you cry, you look weak, and you lose the only notable quality you have.” He finally let go of you. Adjusted his robe and left, leaving you alone with yourself.

Already there, in your state, you went to your bedroom and sank into the sheets.

The morning of the next day was no better, in class everyone couldn't stop talking about how you and Tom had broken up. Your assumption was that Tom had broken the news to them, and you were right. What perhaps hadn't occurred to you was that he had subverted the story slightly. He had said that he had broken up with you since you were unfaithful with Simon a while ago, but that he refused to accept it. Now, he was the victim of the story, the poor guy who refused to accept that his girlfriend was cheating on him. And you, anyone who dared to deceive him.

Nobody talked to you any more like they did when you were his partner, apparently they no longer found you interesting. That depressed you but not enough to cloud your common sense that told you that it was better to be alone than in bad company. And it was true. Even though no one appreciated you and everyone hated you, you managed to make it to the Easter holidays, even though it seemed like a short time, you needed to go home. You were excited to finally be able to go home freely.

With your bags already packed you were heading towards the exit when Tom arrived at your door.

“Hello.” He said, sitting on your bed as if it were his house.

“Hi.”

“How has your life as a social reject gone?” He smiled arrogantly.

“Well, the time alone has served me well to think and reflect.” You weren't going to let him see you badly, let him see you vulnerable once again.

“I imagine that once again you are going to stay here, I know perfectly well that you don't like being with your parents.” You knew perfectly well that he had already noticed the suitcases, but that he says it to bother you.

“I'll see how I deal with it.” I can't stand being in this castle any more, I'll ask my parents to give me classes at home, I can't stand being at Hogwarts any longer, you thought.

“You're not leaving Hogwarts, you are not going to study in your house,” he said firmly as he got closer and closer to you, until he caught up with you and choked me, pushing me against the nearest wall. “You know, I've let you be alone for a while because I think you need it, but I swear, you're never going to be free of me. Never. Do you understand me?” You nodded repeatedly, waiting for him to release you. When you had got out of his grasp, he picked you up and threw you against the bed, forcing you to give him your arm. You had already let him do whatever he wanted so that he would finally leave you alone.

And at that moment, with a knife that you had no idea where he had got it from, he marked your left arm, leaving a line of blood on you.

You could tell he was going to do something else if he hadn't been interrupted by the knock on the door. Alarmed that he would be upset by the interruption, you decided to stay silent and not respond.

“ Are you there? I need your help to fill out some paperwork!" Oh, god, it was your classmate Samantha, she didn't usually talk to you about those things, but it seemed like she did now.

“Don't even dare answer.” Tom murmured putting his hand over my mouth once more.

After a while Samantha stopped knocking on the door and left. It was then that Tom finally let go of you.

“You're going to finish your school year whether you like it or not.” You were left dumbfounded in your room, you were trying to understand Tom's outburst, but you couldn't. Couldn't understand how someone felt a pathological need to ruin lives.

You grabbed your suitcases and decided to spend the Easter holidays at home. Where he couldn't reach you, or well, that's what you liked to think.

[cyborg-franky]

Hello!! I love your writing so much 🫶

Could we get a Marco x very tall reader like 8ft+? I hope you're having a good day :)

Ah thank you! I am glad you like it <3

Marco x GN Reader SFW

He’s used to being one of the shortest members of the crew, only Ace is shorter than him [and most of the nurses] He doesn’t have a complex about it, he’s too laid back to care about such a silly thing.

Marco does, however, like to be the smaller one in the relationship for once. He basks in the affection of you coming up behind him, wrapping arms around him, and resting your chin on the top of his head. He sighs, happy, and leans into your touches.

He wouldn’t ever tell anyone but he feels precious when you have to lean down and kiss his forehead or he has to tip-toe to meet your lips.

You are glad he doesn’t care about the height difference, he never makes you feel bad about it. 

Doesn’t make it a thing.

Alot of people in the past have made you feel like a monster being so tall or felt emasculated. Marco still treats you like you are the smallest and most perfect bean. The way he holds you at night, running hands down your sides, peppering your cheeks and nose with kisses. The way he gazes at you with his half-lidded eyes and smiles.

The phoenix likes feeling snug in the arms of an equally strong mate and he sleeps to well in your arms.

He also likes he can land on your arm in harpy form, sitting there like he’s a parrot, enjoying being close to you and surveying everything.

You make little jokes about him being shorter and he takes it all in good humour. Sometimes he gives you cute ‘short’ nicknames like ‘his little bird’ ‘small bean’ ‘tiny’ because you both get a kick out of the silly irony.

[neonacity]

Elysium Ch.1: The Beginning of the End

Summary: What do you get when demigods are sent to the human realm as punishment for wreaking havoc on Olympus? Chaos. And a whole lot of trouble the mundane world is probably not ready to face, ever.

PROLOGUE: The Beginning

DRABBLES: Son of Shadows (JENO) | Of Love & Lust (JAEMIN)

NOTE: I know Percy Jackson has picked up again with its new series, but despite some similarities, this fic is not inspired by the lore. I have never read any of the books. All real people mentioned in the story are only my uses. I do not imply any likeness between them and my characters. A lot of the concepts from the original mythology might also be changed to fit the plot. I do not allow any of my works to be shared anywhere else. I only have Tumblr.

© neonacity 2023 - 2024

*******

“Say you’re given a chance to sit down with any deity and just talk to them for five minutes, who would you choose?”

You crinkled your nose and peered at your best friend from the comfort of the faded bean bag you are slumped on. The room was warm and the weather was making your eyelids droop, but you managed to shift a little on your seat to look at the boy who was currently playing self-catch by throwing a baseball against the wall. Yangyang looked equally bored as he flicked his wrist lazily with ease.

“Should it be a deity?”

“Well, yeah. It’s not like you see them every day.”

“You don’t get to see Princess Diana every day. Or Beyonce.”

Yangyang gave a snort. 

“Beyonce’s still alive, Nugget.” 

You reached out for the closest cushion pillow and threw it at the boy who effortlessly ducked to avoid it. You glared, but he simply laughed to brush you off.

“My point is that, why ask for a deity if there are aspiring people who I can get a chance to talk to?”

“Do you really hate the gods that much,” Yangyang asked with a slight frown creasing the top of his nose. 

“Do you really love them that much, Beep?” 

Now, it was his turn to scoff at the mention of his childhood nickname. Yangyang rolled his eyes before fully turning on his seat to face you. 

“For someone who studies at Rosewood, you treat the celestial world with so much irony.”

That made you pause. Rosewood Institute… An academy that had centuries of history riding on its back. In the eyes of the world, it is a regular boarding school, albeit a shadowy one. For the chosen—or as what they call it—it is a fort that means so much more than any earthly concept. 

Rosewood Institute is the frontier in the mortal world that serves as the learning nest of demigods and half-bloods.

Half-deities and children of anyone connected to the world beyond all pass through the halls of the school. While humanity has since moved on and cut ties with their connection to the gods, their legacy remains and walks among them secretly under shadows. The only exception from the half-bloods housed within the academy were the 'darlings of Olympus,' namely the children of the big honchos residing in Elysium itself. 

For many, being a part of the community of demigods is a badge they wear with pride.

Well, except for you. 

You don’t want to call it hatred, but as the daughter of a humble forest nymph, you stand in a place that still puts you in the viewpoint of someone destined to look up to those with ‘bigger lineages.’ Alas, big names can come with big egos, and so it has tarnished the way you live your life at the Institute every single day.

You slumped back in your seat now and stared at the dusty, aged ceiling of the room you and Yangyang call the Journalism Club. You wished his question was rhetoric, but the hanging silence told you that he is actually expecting an answer. 

“I am just not all hot and excited about it. You already know why.”

Your best friend sighed. The sound of a ball bouncing against the wall started again from his side.

“Not all of them are bad, you know.”

“I’m not saying anyone is ba—”

The crashing sound of something heavy, followed by the shattering boom of breaking glass made you stop. Pulling yourself up from your seat in panic, you stared in shock at Yangyang who also looked frozen from surprise. It didn’t take long for the both of you to get what was happening, and soon enough, you were both scrambling out of the room without another word.

Scratch that. Every single one of these demigods ARE trouble.

*******

“What on earth is going on here?!” The billowing smoke from the room made you cough out your words as you barged through the door. You couldn’t see way past a few feet from the dust that was still settling, but you could make out moving shapes from behind the smoke screen. You squinted hard to make out what was happening when you saw an arm shoot out of nowhere to grab at something.

“What the hell, Haechan. You said you knew what you were doing!” 

A few coughs came a little ways from your right.

“I was, I swear! I followed everything that was written in the book.”

“If you did, then how come you blew up half of the room?!”

“I might have read one of the words wrong—”

“You what?!”

“I'm dyslexic, okay!” 

You blinked away the sting that was already making you start to tear up to properly make out what was in front of you. Now with more of the dust settled, you could finally put a face on the voices. 

Huang Renjun, son of Ares, the God of War. 

And Lee Haechan, child of Athena, the Goddess of Wisdom and Warfare. 

Both locked up in what seemed to be a deathly grip—well, with more of the latter being strangled by the former.

“I am going to kick your a—”

“Hey. Stop. Is everyone okay?” 

You jumped a little as a sudden creak came off from the corner followed by the sudden burst of light into the room. Somebody had enough sense to open a window, which made the rest of the smoke finally escape outside. Standing beside it was a boy with blonde hair that almost glowed like the sunlight. 

Mark Lee. The heir of Zeus, ruler of the sky… and the God of all Gods.

“We’re good. But I don’t think the room is,” a dark-haired boy answered on behalf of the group as he toed a fallen chunk of plank from the ceiling. He turned it over with his booted foot, which only made the wood break into pieces again.

“You think? Everything is scorched off. I liked this room. Now we have to—oh… hello there, Princess.” 

“Uh-oh…” Haechan whispered under his breath as he pushed back his skewed glasses up his nose bridge. Renjun, despite himself, finally let go of the other’s collar as his eyes shifted towards the other three. Mark cleared his throat and reached out to scratch the back of his neck, so instead you turned to the only two boys who are yet to avoid your withering look. 

You froze in your place and glared at the other boy with silver platinum hair who smiled sweetly at you from where he stood. Upon his greeting, everyone in the group turned to look at you, as if it was their first time to notice you there.

Lee Jeno, son of Hades, God of the Underworld; and Na Jaemin, beloved child of Aphrodite, Goddess of Love and Beauty; looked like the poster children of light and shadows. Their current expressions drove the imagery well, too. 

“Can somebody tell me why half the room melted off?” You asked through gritted teeth, your eyes boring holes at Jaemin who was still smiling so pleasantly at you—a fact that, to be honest, only made your blood boil more. 

“Haechan tried to make a spell that he got from one of the books in the library. He… wanted to make the room cooler,” Jeno answered. 

“What do you mean ‘he’? You were all in on the act too! Didn’t you say the heat here was much worse than Uncle Hades’ second circle of the Underworld?!” The brown-haired boy in question bristled. 

“Book? What book?” Yangyang, who had run after you, but was too shocked to speak before, echoed from behind. Renjun shifted a little guiltily on his feet. 

“Well about that…”

“He got it from the Restricted Section,” Jaemin said, still looking unbothered about everything. 

You felt seconds away from an aneurysm. 

“You mean he stole it?” You emphasized the word as you shifted your gaze to the thief in question. Haechan slightly frowned and looked away.

“I just borrowed it.. “

“You are not allowed to borrow it, let alone touch it. That’s why it is in the Restricted Section!” 

“We weren’t even supposed to use it, but Renjun and the rest—”

“Me?!” 

“Is it really not possible to have any of you stay out of trouble for at least one day?!”

You wish you were overreacting, but you couldn't really be as close to the truth as you are. In fact, you are almost ready to sacrifice Yangyang's blood just to go back to the time before the 'golden heirs' of Olympus stepped foot into your life.

It had almost been a month since the boys arrived in Rosewood. As the chosen heirs of their godly parents, they stayed in their respective domains to be trained and raised differently from the rest. When news broke that they were banished temporarily to the mortal realm as punishment for a gaffe, the Academy was thrown into excitement and chaos—well, mostly chaos from your perspective. 

You’ve been wanting to know what it is exactly that these men did to be exiled from Olympus, but to be honest, they have also been keeping you up almost every single day with their antics. It’s almost like trouble is always hovering around them, and since then, you have never known peace.

“We apologize. We really didn’t mean it this time. We were just trying to learn new things,” Mark, the eldest of the group, told you placatingly. You turned to look at him with your lips in a tight line. 

“This is a school for the demigods, Mr. Lee. Not Hogwarts. You can’t try spells here.”

Jaemin frowned, his curiosity genuine. 

“What’s Hogwarts?”

“You can try spells there?” Haechan seconded. 

“To the office, all of you,” you said as you pinched the bridge of your nose. You have just turned on your heel when someone else stepped into the room, his eyes silently roaming the mess stretched out in front of him. 

Mark straightened at the sight of the man. You did the same, slight surprise marking your features.

“Headmaster.”

“Papa?”

Your father, looking the least bit troubled by the mess, turned to give all of you a smile. 

“Hello kids, it seems like you are having quite an interesting afternoon.”

“Sir, we can explain—”

“They used a spell to—!”

Both you and Mark stopped mid-sentence as he raised a hand.

“I’d love to know the full story, but for now I need to talk to all of you. Can you all please come to my office?”

*******

The boys looked around silently as they settled on their seats at the Headmaster’s office. You, not being a stranger to the place anymore, sat on the closest one to your father’s table, your fingers fidgeting slightly on your side. The man in front was peacefully making coffee as if he has not a care in the world, but you could sense in the air in the room that something was up. That was the thing about your father. Nothing ever seems to ruffle him up.

You know, having been raised by him in the walls of the Institute himself since you were a kid. Even before you officially became a student here, you have seen the way he had handled all kinds of matters in Rosewood. After all, being the Headmaster of one of the select places in the mortal world where the offspring of gods and otherworldly creatures reside does come with its fair share of trouble. 

“Is something the matter?” You braved to ask the question that everyone in the room was itching to voice out. He turned to all of you with a smile and lifted the coffee pot he just finished brewing. 

“Coffee, anyone?” 

You and Mark caught each other’s gazes before slightly shaking your heads. The rest did the same.

“Mm. More for me then,” your father murmured more to himself with a chuckle as he settled behind the ancient-looking oak table. You all watched nervously as he took his time to sip on his drink. The whole room seemed to be holding its breath. Off on your other side, Haechan seems on the verge of chewing his fingers off.

“Papa—”

“We might have to temporarily close off Rosewood,” the Headmaster said to gently cut you off. You froze, processing what he just said for a few seconds. You expected everything, except for this. 

“What??”

“There has been a little bit of trouble brewing in the borders of our world and Elysium. Today, I am going to make an announcement that students and their families have the choice to go home or stay here if they want.”

None of what he is saying makes sense. Beside you, the boys looked paler under the light.

“What do you mean we are closing down Rosewood? We never close the Institute ever!” You blurted out, unable to keep yourself quiet anymore. 

“We have never done it, yes, darling. But this time, the case is a little bit different,” the man replied to you kindly and under control still. He then turned to his other visitors with the same even temperament.

“I have been in touch with all of your parents to tell them about the changes in the Academy. They are yet to give me their answer as to when you will go back to Olympus.” 

Mark fidgeted a little on his seat and gave the boys beside him a quick look. 

“Uhm… About that…”

“Can you at least tell us what’s happening?” You said through gritted teeth as you turned to your father again. The man in question paused a little as if to study you… weighing whether to answer your question or not. Finally, he leaned back against his seat and removed his wire-framed glasses.

“Several places in the mortal world had been under attack. Monsters and beasts have been roaming the place. The celestial army has been keeping the cases down, but we expect the events to… grow.” 

That is the second time you were speechless today. You felt your palms turn cold as you stared at him, mouth open. The headmaster met all of your gazes evenly, his usually warm facade finally showing a glimpse of the seriousness of the situation. 

“What…”

“Tartarus is collapsing on itself and the world, I’m afraid, is not ready for it.” 

Your heart dropped to your stomach. 

Tartarus, the deepest place of the Underworld. 

Tartarus…

The prison of the gods’ greatest enemies. 

You stared breathlessly at your father until something clicked. Slowly, you turned to the boys sitting beside you who seemed to have turned to stone. One look and you knew. One look and the question was drawn automatically from your lips. 

A/N: Look who's back... I know I haven't been active in this account for months, but 2024 is literally just a few hours away and I wanted to close the year (and hopefully start the new one) by picking up writing again. I have no promises, but I hope this little chapter can do its magic. Happy New Year, everyone!

“You… What have you all done?” 

*******

[sepublic]

Homesick!

I just gotta say I love the pun of this episode’s title; I thought Homesick would allude to it being about Luz missing home, but it was actually a joke on Hooty being sick!

That said, we DID get what would’ve been our first look at Manny, as well as an early version of Camila lore! Turns out she was going to be a nurse, but in the end I think I like veterinarian better. Still, I remember discussing healing back during S1A as a potential track for Luz because of this, so to see that theme be apparent with both parents was cool!

Manny’s face being shrouded also seems to indicate that the dramatic reveal behind him -the illness- was always planned, at least since the pilots. Luz said he drove an ambulance, past tense, which seems like some dark irony given he probably needed one at one point. Remember how some of us theorized after Reaching Out that the Abomaton alarm reminded Luz of an ambulance siren related to her father? Man… On the plus side! We can guess Camila and Manny met through their professions, so we could try applying that to canon as well! Compassion is such a Noceda trait I love it.

Likewise, I appreciate how these two leaked storyboards have Luz and Eda covering for each other! One sticks their neck out because something means a lot for the other, but the other decides it’s not so important they’d sacrifice the one for it… With this episode, Eda doesn’t want Luz to look like a dunce but Luz is honest and can’t bear to see her mentor be mocked either, and is trying to take responsibility for what she feels is HER mistake too! It’s really sweet seeing Eda inadvertently teach Luz the Healing glyph.

Speaking of, it seems we would’ve gotten individual glyphs for all spells, as the fandom once assumed! I guess the show did glyph combos to explain why Luz doesn’t immediately find everything, as well as create a sort of fun system behind Luz having to mix and match things. And we even got to see what we always wanted; Luz making an ENORMOUS glyph around her enemy! Goes to show my speculation that since glyphs rely on the magic around them, they aren’t physically taxing; Something we see brought up with Eda’s own magic.

Caduceia reminded me of an early Hermonculus, being a teacher who didn’t really care much for the actual students and even seemed to enjoy mocking them! She looks like Raine, so much that I wonder if the design was repurposed for them because it was such a nice one! I dig the play on Caduceus, with Snakeslie as a palisman! Snakeslie looks so much like a worm on a string. Given Luz and Caduceia are both healers, it’s neat they have a snake in common, though Caduceia’s seems to allude to her being a snake (liar); Her palisman’s name is literally Snakeslie. Snakes lie. Glad to see Stringbean with the positive rep!

I also love the gag of King calling himself the King of whatever’s convenient, and it was really cute seeing him want to prove his own worth! Because two witches, it’d be easy to feel like he has nothing to offer, which is part of Sense and Insensivity in canon! There’s parallels between the A and B-plots, with Luz and King feeling ineffectual and their owl friend supporting them, only to be helped as well! Eda and Owlbert are linked and hell so are the demon hunters and Caduceia!

The House Demon lore was neat, even if it was stuff we already figured out with canon; House Demons being like hermit crabs, and also rare! Seeing healing magic be used to make someone sick and even control their mucus/phlegm was disgusting yet fascinating! And I was delighted to see the demon hunters again, they’re underrated side characters imo and we even got a crew nickname for another one of them!

I also like the bit of the moral here; That sometimes, it’s not that a student is bad or isn’t trying, sometimes the teacher is failing them. Maybe some people think this generation is raised too soft and coddled, but I think it’s an important reassurance for a lot of kids who struggle and blame themselves for it; I’ve taken teaching classes before, and we were taught to be vigilant with ourselves as potentially inadequate for students. It’s the onus of the teacher to adapt to a kid’s needs after all, and actually care!!!

What an unexpected delight! I never imagined the crew made storyboards for additional episodes and not just the pilot! This one has no voice alas, but it’s better than nothing and I feel storyboards have such a nice charm to themselves as well! I really thought the pilot would be my last episode review, but I keep getting pleasantly surprised and gifted by this show…!

[somberauthor]

yo could you do dave / reader general hcs please

i am SO sorry it took so long to get this out, i hope you enjoy!

DAVE STRIDER ♡ READER

He makes stupid cheesy raps for you, and makes them especially cheesy.

He calls you pookalicious, his little sweetpea ironically. but he can be normal when it comes to nicknames when he's actually being affectionate

He's a little scared of being cringe so he says a lot of things he means, but brushes it off as being irony because it sounded cringe.

If you can sing or play an instrument he would love to collab, or hell, even start a whole band with you if you were comfortable.

He may eat your snacks, if you have a good taste in snacks. but if he does this accidentally he'll make it up to you by buying you more and sharing his precious closet apple juice with you, no matter what John says

I'm sorry for keeping so many requests on the side, i'm trying to get as much as i can done today. I know i've said that a lot the past few times i've posted, but i'm genuinely trying now. I'm putting my requests down fr this time, but thank you all for your patience with me.