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superblysubpar · 6 months

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Princesses Can Slay Dragons Too:

dad!eddie munson x mom!fem!reader

an Easy Like Sunday Morning story

summary: you're overworked and stressed, Eddie's an oblivious but well meaning husband & dad, and a trip to the cabin with familiar faces might be just what you all needed. | even if a fic is not marked 18+, my blog is

7.7k words (listen, I know it has no business being this long. I worked on it for a year. Idk what happened, okay?)

warnings: please read the new "general warnings" on the masterlist linked above - "reader" has a "name/nickname", mentions of Ronance, mentions of alcohol, mom stress and a little bit of description of some blood/injury and parental panic/ descriptions of shock about it. There is a twinge of "poetic", quick descriptions of smut as well as brief discussion of "unplanned" pregnancies.

This started from an ask last March, which I've since lost (so sorry anon if you're still out there), and it grew and sat and grew some more and then sat some more and now here it is. I've grown very, extremely, emotionally proud and fond of it. Hope ya like it! 💛

Summer, 2004

“Baby, volume,” your voice calls out over the faint music playing, the thrum of wheels against the highway and the wind. Eyes remain shut, but furrowed lines form above your brows when you hear the familiar ding of a coin being grabbed. A palm rests on your thigh, fingers squeeze gently around it as the music of the level starts its loop again.

You need a coffee. Or thirty. Yes, thirty is good.

“Squirt,” his tone full of warning, yet somehow still sounding sweeter than the syrup that clings to all of their fingers and the gray fabric of the old van’s seats.

Despite the early morning breakfast stop at McDonald’s being nearly twenty-four hours ago, and your insistence on packed sandwiches and veggies for lunch, and a stop for a sit down dinner - the stale scent of greasy food feels heavy in the air. Which has your brain cycling through the list that will rid your family of the trip when you reach your final destination - get out of the car, wrangle them into pajamas, teeth brushed, fight about sleeping when it’s already almost morning, clothes into washing machine, air out the car, make the grocery list for the week…

Screw coffee - you need a shower, you need a shot of alcohol, you already need a vacation from your vacation.

A particularly loud grunt and the sound of something hitting or fighting or shooting has you opening your eyes, blinking away the sleep in them to find the dark highway lit by two gold headlights, showing off the yellow lines flashing past the driver’s window. Your mouth parts, ready to be the one to tell them no, like you always are, when he stops you.

He grabs your hand, his thumb soothing over your knuckles as his voice drifts gently into the backseat, “Come on, I don’t wanna take it away…”

It’s endearing, the way he always tries, the way he gives them a couple of chances. Because at this point, you’re ready to take the damn game and chuck it out the window. This level is haunting you, all you’ve heard every second of every day, even when you’re peeing or trying to shower. You’re pretty sure you’re dreaming in the pixelated graphics, the sound effects now accompanying your daily tasks.

A loud sigh falls from the backseat and with it, you’re certain the console is nudged one level lower.

You hate that of all of your children, the one most like him is still awake.

Sure, they’re all little gremlins, heathens, as he likes to call them - little tenacious mini monster versions of him that drive you up the wall but somehow make your chest ache with too much love.

But this one, this one takes the cake every time.

Eddie beats you to it again, the silver of his rings glinting in the green light of the dashboard as he lets go of your hand to reach into the back without looking. Out of the corner of your eye you see his bicep flexing, gently shaking the tiny knee in his big hand as he talks to the road sternly, “Lace. Volume off completely until I say otherwise, or Mario and Luigi are my best friends the rest of the week, capisce?”

“Caposh,” she grumbles, big red chucks swinging up towards the console and back down, her little legs don’t quite touch the ground yet, much to her dismay.

You keep reminding her that she has lots of time to be as big as her siblings, that her ever growing shoe size and the jeans you bought for the upcoming school year (which she’s already complaining are too tight - remember, you need to ask Katie about hand me downs from Liv, or shit, maybe even Grace, this weekend) tell you she is going to keep growing - and fast. Part of you can’t wait, and the other part wishes she’d slow down.

The sound vanishes completely and Eddie’s hand finds its way to your thigh again when you sigh. The part that wishes she’d grow up faster stirs, lit by the flicker of resentment when she listens to him so easily and not you.

Eddie’s fingers run up your thigh, then back down, skin beneath the denim buzzing as he squeezes softly and clears his throat.

“I think someone deserves an apology though, don’t you? ‘Cause I believe I heard you were asked already…”

“I’m sorry,” she squeaks and you can’t help but look over your shoulder at her when she does.

For once, her eyes are on you and not the game, big and brown - just like his - and truly sorry. You smile softly as her brows furrow under bangs that just refuse to stay straight. She blows them away with a big huff as she whines, “It’s just so hard.”

Your head nods, temple resting on the seat as you murmur, “Yeah, I know. Thank you for turning the volume off when your dad asked though, I really appreciate it.”

Eddie swallows, his finger aimlessly circles over the skin above your knee as he blinks at the road.

He’s always amazed when you do that.

Far more patient than anyone deserves, far more understanding than any of them appreciate, and much too good to him. For him. Especially with how things have been lately.

Eddie knew it’d been a little rough, with him being gone so much and the kids’ schedules just growing more cramped as they got older - summer was no longer the lazy days of kids riding around on their bikes and doing squat. It was full of sports and clubs, friends, all requiring a constant need to be dropped off, picked up, carted too and fro on seemingly hellbent on never lining up schedules. He’d been trying, he really had, to help you balance it all, but he had tunnel vision for things at work, he was so focused on his own shit he didn’t realize how much everything was affecting you.

How much being alone with three kids, two goldfish (scratch that, one, but still), a dog, and a house that seemed to have endless tasks to keep it running was breaking you.

He finds your hand and pulls interlaced fingers to his lips, kissing your knuckles, your wrist, your palm, all while keeping his eyes on the road. You close yours again, trying to focus on the soft press of his lips to your skin and not the reason why he’s doing it.

You know he’s thinking about last weekend.

On Friday, Caroline had complained that you only sewed new straps on her ballet slippers instead of getting new ones altogether. She was practically in tears because all the other girls in class had new leotards, new skirts, and new shoes and you promised you’d figure something out. She retreated with red cheeks and a slam of the bedroom door, stereo blaring behind it, the cusp of terrible teenage years promising to be worse than the twos.

After that, Michael shoved you off when you tried to hug him as you dropped him at the school for a baseball practice with an exasperated, “God, mom, stop!” - nine was grown up and he was much too cool to be a momma’s boy anymore apparently.

And to top it all off, Lacey had been following you around the house, that stupid game dinging and singing everywhere you went, one of the fish died and Lacey asked when it was coming back, and you somehow burnt the hamburger helper for dinner.

When Eddie got home, he found you hunched over the coffee table next to a precariously placed glass of red wine, a sock in one hand and a shirt in the other, piles of laundry neatly folded around you and your favorite movie playing on the TV. If it weren’t for the position that was sure to have your back feeling rough tomorrow, your soft, even breathing revealed you were dead asleep.

He had tried to ease you up, move you to the bedroom while trying not to wake you like he used to when his body was much younger, but you had shot up at the touch of his hand, the lightest sleeper of a mother of three. You blinked heavy eyelids while mumbling through sleep thick words about lunches for the two eldest who would be gone all the next day. Eddie had assured you he’d make them, and you were fairly certain you were back to sleep before your head touched the pillow.

The next day though, something inside of you snapped.

It had been better than the one before, but not great. You hadn’t showered, there was a leak in the kitchen that hadn’t gotten any better all week. The only break you had all day was picking the kids up from their activities, and making them a snack as soon as they dropped gear in haphazard piles in the entryway.

After hours on hold, you just started clanging around with tools you didn’t know how to use, your head throbbing from the lack of coffee or water and the sound of Mario grabbing another coin somewhere to your right.

Where was the real plumber you had asked Eddie to call? Maybe, if you concentrated hard enough, Mario would leap out of Lacey’s console, climb down the drain, and fight off the little mushroom guy who was-

You smacked the wrench against the pipe, repeatedly, like it had personally threatened you.

“Woah, woah, woah. Sweetheart, stop! You’re gonna break it!”

Eddie grabbed your wrist, pulling you up to see him standing with pizza boxes and staring at you with wide, blinking eyes. For a second, the sight of short curls starting to gray on the ends and lines next to eyes that were constantly squinting because he was smiling or refusing to wear sunglasses, had you forgetting you were mad, or stressed or…maybe you were just tired?

He cocked his head, trying to catch the gaze you let fall to the floor quickly as the kids shrieked about him being home. Eddie didn’t even get his question of if you were okay out before arms were wrapped around his waist and legs, all vying for his attention.

You had swiped at your nose to ward off the familiar sting, pulled down plates and started filling glasses of milk and juice, before shoving the casserole you’d had prepped into the freezer.

Then he snapped his fingers, smoothing a hand over Caroline’s hair and said, “Oh, hold on. I think you’re gonna like what else I brought home a lot more than the pizza.”

He left for the hallway, returning quickly, holding something behind his back that she tried to peek at and he tsked, singing, “Uh-uh-uh. Hold on. Your mom told me you were upset about your ballet slippers…”

Your shoulders rose, the pour of apple juice freezing over the glass.

He didn’t.

He smiled at you, oblivious, then at Caroline’s squeal of excitement and he kept going, “These aren’t new, but my co-worker’s daughter barely used them and…Ta-da!”

Eddie held out a shoebox with essentially brand new shoes and your body felt numb as you listened to her scream how much she loved them and him, squeezing him in a fierce hug as he kissed her temple.

Caroline held them up to you, proudly, and you smiled, nodding, saying something, you don’t even remember what. You ushered everyone to the table.

Lacey stood next to her chair, eyes darting over the hand-held game clutched in her fingers.

“Lacey, put it away, time for dinner.”

Ding! Bloop, bloop, bloop blah-bloop-de-bloop.

Eddie slapped pizza onto plates, licking stray sauce from his thumb, “How was everyone’s day? What’d you do?”

“Lacey, I’m not telling you again. Put the game away.”

Her eyes flew up to yours, something fiery and far to recognizable behind them that made you blink as she just said, “No.”

“Oh!” Eddie passed you pizza, oblivious, “How was lunch? Did dad do as good as mom?” He ruffled Michael’s hair as your daughter and you glared at each other.

Caroline nodded her head enthusiastically around a too big bite and Michael turned to you, pizza in his mouth on display as he talked, “It was so good. Can dad make our lunches every day? His was way better.”

You stood up from the table, without warning and without a word, walked to your bedroom, and slammed the door.

Were you having an adult tantrum? Maybe. Were you proud of it? Absolutely not. But the rush of tears that fell down your cheeks and the sob that overtook you was the kind of angry crying you simply do in private and you had needed to get there quick.

Footsteps jogged down the hallway behind you, the sound causing you to turn the lock on your bedroom door through blurry vision and gasps around your tears. As the knob tried to turn, you moved away with a hand over your mouth until the back of your knees hit the bed.

“Babe, open the door.” Eddie’s voice was soft as the knob rattled again.

“Liv, what the hell, open the door.”

You choked on a sob, fingers still over your lips so you barely got out, “I’m fine, Eddie, just…have dinner without me. I’ll eat later.”

The handle spun back and forth again, the sound of his forehead hitting the wood and his pained tone slicing through you, “Olivia, please open the door.”

You curled yourself on top of the bed, watching the handle through blurry vision slowly stop moving. Closing your eyes as the tears fell swiftly, you prayed it was the kind of crying that would just knock you out and put you to sleep, because god, did you need to sleep.

Only a few minutes later, maybe not even, the door swung open to reveal Eddie on his knees with a flashlight between his lips and a screwdriver in his hands and you, sobbing on the bed.

He jumped up at the sight of you curling your arms around your waist harder, at the way you rolled away from him and pressed your wet cheek into the pillow. At the way your hoarse voice called out, “Please leave me alone Eddie.”

The door closed, the lock clicked, and there was a distinct sound of both items he held dropping to the carpet with thuds. The bed dipped and the heat of his body curled behind you, fingers gently brushed over the damp skin of your cheek and neck.

Your body shook with more tears, eyes squeezing closed tighter when he pressed his nose to the back of your head while his arm wrapped around your waist, and he waited.

The tears eventually slowed, your chest started to fall and rise more evenly, and the light filtering in through your curtains started to turn lavender, then blue. Eddie managed to remove your jeans without waking you, and he pulled the duvet up over your shoulder as he bit his lower lip raw. Your face still didn’t look relaxed, like it was crying and worrying even in your sleep.

He left the room with with his fingers rubbing at the back of his neck, walking past the bathroom where water sloshed over the counter and soap slid down the-

Taking several steps backwards, his mouth opened, then closed at the sight in front of him, before he finally found his words and quietly asked, “Whatcha doing?”

His three children stood in a line in the mirror, looking at him in the reflection. Lacey held a stack of plates and silverware on the left, on her toes, pink socks (that were supposed to be white, but there must have been a laundry incident he was unaware of) fully submerged in bubbles, her little arms hoisting them to rest on the counter halfway. Caroline stood in front of the overflowing, sudsy sink, her hands invisible inside it, and Michael next to her with a rag and plate.

“We’re washing the dishes,” Caroline shrugged, like it was obvious.

He leaned against the doorframe, rubbing at his jaw as he hummed, “I…see that. Why are you doing that in here?”

The three kids blinked at him, and he tried not to smile, because you weren’t kidding that they eerily looked like him when they did that. They were all clearly confused, and then Michael said, “The kitchen sink is broken. It has been all week.”

Eddie closed his eyes, your cursing under your breath and beating up of the pipes when he got home making much more sense now.

All week? Why hadn’t you told him?

Shit, had you told him?

He cleared his throat and he tapped on the frame. “Right. Well, thank you for doing them. Try to stay quiet, mom’s sleeping.”

His body had barely turned out the door before Caroline called out, nervously, “Is she okay?”

Eddie wasn’t a fan of lying, even if it was to protect feelings. But the sight of his three kids with concern evident on each of their faces told him they’d know if he did anyways. Something told him they already knew she wasn’t and it was him who didn’t know the answer.

He sighed, entered the room deeper and kissed the tops of each of their heads, before he threw some towels over the floor that had puddles of water accumulating.

“I think she really needs to sleep, and I’ll talk to her later. But I think you guys doing the dishes really helps. Thank you.”

So while his kids did the dishes in the bathroom sink and you slept, the dog and…one…? goldfish kept him company in the kitchen where he inspected the sink.

It was an easy fix, but he didn’t have the part, and his stomach tensed with guilt as he thought about how you probably, definitely, asked him to look at it or call someone right away and he forgot. A simple drive down the street to the hardware store tomorrow, he’d have it fixed in less than an hour.

He put the tools away in the garage, above the label for them that you must have made and he went into the small office space in search of a post-it to put on the sink. The office was intended for you, but years and kids and projects went by and soon it became a dumping ground of all things house.

When he reached the desk, he found what he was looking for. There were plenty of post-its, in a variety of colors, lined up in a neat row above a large, tightly and neatly filled calendar.

Eddie swallowed as his fingers brushed over the names of his kids, him, the fucking dog and fish - all with their own color. The house, the bills, the errands…all of it had colors, schedules, a science, a system.

But the thing was, you weren’t a part of the system - you were the system.

There was nowhere, in that entire calendar, that had anything remotely relaxing for you on it. No dinner or wine night with any of the girls. No book club with Nancy anymore, maybe because they moved, but he had a feeling it still wouldn’t be there if they hadn’t. No dates with him. He couldn’t remember the last time he took you out, or hell, made you dinner - when was the last time he even cooked dinner for the whole family?

He swallowed as he read over the entire month, and the next and the next. Anything that would have been considered free time, or your time was full of laundry, grocery shopping, dusting the fucking baseboards, because apparently you do everything?

And Eddie knew he had colosally, monumentally, brutally, fucked up.

So when the kids were in bed, and the kitchen was clean, and the lunches for the next day were packed, and the laundry was folded and put away, Eddie crawled back into bed behind you.

He didn’t think you were awake, carefully letting his arm curl around you and his lips brush your shoulder in a wordless goodnight, an apology, a promise to talk about it as soon as you woke up. But then your words floated out and hung in the dark room and a tear slipped down his cheek.

“I’m sorry.”

Eddie sniffled, trying to reign it in, he cleared his throat, but you were already rolling to face him and he had his palms pressed to his eyes as his words left him all scratchy and on the brink of a full blown sob.

“Sweetheart, don’t you dare fucking say it again.”

Your fingers had curled around his wrists and tugged gently, until watery eyes were blinking at your own and you shrugged and whispered, “But I am.”

His lips found yours in a bruising kiss, noses squished together and gasps of air between parting mouths, fingers clutching at hips and necks as your legs tangled.

When was the last time he fucking kissed you like he meant it? Like it wasn’t a quick goodbye, goodmorning, or a hey, doll, how was your day as he half listened?

He shook his head, mouth catching yours in quick kisses between each softly spoken word, “No, I am.”

Your palms pressed to his cheek as your leg hitched over his thigh, breathless as he traveled over your jaw and down your neck for the first time in what felt like months.

Maybe it had been.

“Can you,” you tugged on short curls behind his ears as his tongue traced your collarbone which made you both groan, “Jus-just let me apologize?”

Eddie practically growled out the word no before his lips were back on yours.

It was fast fingers pulling at clothing and sharp teeth nipping at lips and skin, no foreplay, ‘just fuck me’ quick, and quietly because of the kids, kind of sex, until it wasn’t.

It only took him three thrusts to realize it wasn’t what he wanted. Quickly becoming memorizing touches that glided over skin and held with care, it was lips that whispered apologies and all the things he loved about you into yours, quiet and passionate pushing and pulling with each other, and hands gripping the others as you came together and said everything you couldn’t with intense eye contact, fingers deep in the curls at the back of his head as his name left your mouth only to be swallowed by his.

His lips brushed down your shoulder and back up, over your collarbone and chest as your fingers scratched at his scalp gently.

He hummed against your throat before whispering, “I think we should go to the cabin next week.”

“Eddie…” you started softly, already panicking about the missed events the kids would have to make up, the packing, the-

“Stop,” he kissed your jaw, then hovered over your face so his big, brown, sweet eyes could look down at you, “I can hear the stress coming out of you, and I just got it all out.”

You laughed quietly, fingers pressing to your eyes as you shook your head. Unconvinced, and if you were tired before, he’d just made you even more so.

Eddie kissed at your fingers, your nose, your cheek until he was nudging at the fingers again with his nose.

“Baby, I promise, it’ll be a good vacation. I think we could all use it. And I swear, I’ll be the parent. You kick your heels up and get drunk on shitty wine with Katie, okay?”

And here you were, doing just that.

The late/early morning arrival was not the shit show you were sure it was going to be. The kids listened immediately about being quiet entering the cabin at the late hour, especially after Eddie said if everyone woke up, the entire day on the lake would be ruined.

You woke up, without an alarm, for the first time in…you didn’t know how long. Greeted in the kitchen by Steve’s wife, Katie, quietly squealing and grabbing you in a hug that seemed to melt the tension from your shoulders. Eddie handed you a steaming cup of a coffee accompanied with a kiss on your temple and a swat to Steve’s chest when he tried to do the same.

The kids were already showered, dressed, fed - fruit and waffles and minimal syrup thankfully - and outside playing. You had your suspicions this was all largely due to Steve and his wife’s doing. If you dwelled on it too long, the comparison to how much better they were at the whole parenting thing than you could drive you insane, so you tried to ignore it.

There was only one argument with Lacey about the Nintendo, and Eddie snatched it and pocketed it and simply shrugged at her scowl when he did and said, “Told ya, babe.” Michael complained about lunch, but only until Nora, Steve’s eldest and seventeen, said “Oh, I love chicken salad” with a wink in your direction. You’d never seen Michael eat so quickly before and he was a garbage disposal on a good day.

And now, your heels were “up” leaning against the deck’s railing from your spot on the floor, a wine glass was in your hand. Katie was telling you all about Nora’s new boyfriend, Charlie, who Steve positively hated, as Eddie and him stood nearby, with beers and watching meat on the grill or whatever men do.

“Charlie is the least of our worries though,” she waved her hand with an eye roll, sipping the pink wine with a grimace, “I mean, you know. They’re monsters. Why’d we have them again?”

You laughed, shaking your head, “If you think yours are monsters, mine might literally be the devil incarnate.”

She snorted into her glass and you laughed, swiping at your lips with a shrug, “Okay, too far. But god, they’re…I don’t know. But, seriously, you and Steve…”

Your voice fell as the boys yelled over the grill at two of the girls doing cartwheels dangerously close to the fire pit.

“You guys, you really know what you’re doing. You’re a good team.” You smiled sadly, looking at the back of Eddie’s head and then at her.

She was watching you closely, a tilt of her head like she was trying to figure you out, before she grabbed your hand and squeezed it and admitted, “I yelled at him about loading the dishwasher wrong last week. We didn’t talk for three days.” She frowned and shook her head and looked over at him and he flipped his spatula and winked at her and she smiled and turned back to you. “Things aren’t ever what they seem on the outside. We all have shit. It just matters if your shit is something you can trudge through together. If you can help clean it off each other.”

She frowned at the wine she started pouring. “I don’t think this wine is helping with my metaphors, but you get what I mean?”

You nodded, taking in Eddie’s profile as he talked with his hands and got louder as he told a story to Steve.

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

It was silent as you both stared at the guys, sipping your wine, until you whispered, “So he loaded it wrong, huh?”

“So wrong!” She exclaimed, grumbling, “Who puts plates all willy-nilly? They go in a straight, neat-”

“I said I was sorry!” Steve shouted from the grill, his hands on his hips as he glared at the two of you.

Katie stuck her tongue out at him and he shook his head with narrowed eyes and she grinned, a quiet and not as silent as they thought conversation about her paying for that later.

You looked away, smiling into your wine glass when you caught Eddie’s gaze. He looked a little shocked when you made eye-contact, his cheeks flushed pink and you cocked your head with bunched eyebrows at him.

An unanswered silent question though, because the kids all shouted as a black SUV pulled up the long, gravel driveway.

A tall, lanky body jumped out of the backseat of the car before it was even in park, a head full of bouncing red waves shooting across the grass towards the literal swarm of children screaming, “Aunt Robin!”

She was down, on the ground, in literal seconds, the children forming a nice heap on top of her that the four of you all yelled about getting off at the same time, sharing grins that only parents who grew up doing the same thing and feel wrong for telling them not to could.

Your eldest, was bounding over to the car, along with Olivia, ready for the third to round out the little trio of three musketeers - Zoey Wheeler.

As they hugged and squealed about being back together, you all started down the steps to greet the late arrivals.

You couldn’t help but notice Caroline standing a touch away from Olivia as the two other girls gossiped about something from school.

But then Nancy was enveloping her in a tight hug, “Hey kiddo, hear you’re gonna be in the windy city pretty soon.”

Too preoccupied with your own waving of arms to tell her to stop talking, you didn’t notice Eddie whip his head over at Steve, who blinked with his hands raised.

Your head fell as Caroline turned to you with curious eyes and a quiet, “What?”

Eddie opened his mouth to explain, but you were already talking, him blinking behind you.

“I…I haven’t even told your dad. It was supposed to be a surprise for your birthday. You and me, driving to Chicago to go to this dance store that Zoey and Olivia go to. It’s not new stuff, but their dance troop shops there and it’s all really nice stuff and - oof!”

Caroline’s arms were squeezing you harder than they ever had, face pressed against you as her words got lost and muffled, but didn’t lose their meaning when she said, “Thank you so much mom.”

Your fingers ran over her hair, lips pressed to the top of her head as you enjoyed the hug for as long as she’d let you. “Of course, honey. Happy early Birthday.”

The girls quickly started discussing what they’d do on the trip, and Nancy winced out an apology you told her was unnecessary as you hugged, all while Eddie gulped down his beer and Steve narrowed his eyes at him which made Eddie wave him off, grabbing another beer out of the cooler.

“I am in need of assistance,” Robin called weakly, from her spot on the ground, now abandoned by all the children who were quick to return to their activities.

Nancy sighed and drawled dramatically, “Coming, dear.”

Robin groaned from the ground, but giggled. “Thank you, sugar-pie.”

“Robs, I’ll leave you down there…” she warned.

“Fine,” Robin shrugged, blue eyes staring up at the matching sky, “Dingus will-”

He was already hoisting her up, and grabbing her in a big hug only the two of them could find comfortable from the amount of squeezing suffocation.

Nancy looked at you and Katie and sighed.

“Wine.”

You were both already handing your glasses over with smiles before she could finish the word.

She was thoroughly tipsy by her third glass, and the stress you could sense when she arrived - maybe it was a thing all you mom’s could sense, or maybe it was because of being old friends - was melted from her face as she called out, loudly, excitedly, “Robin!”

“Yes, my love?”

Robin’s legs swung as they dangled from her hoisted up spot on the railing by the men. A baseball hat turned backwards over waves tinted red and silver and a sly smirk resting on her lips as she looked at her wife with more love than should be possible in a human.

Nancy’s cheeks flushed and you all snickered into your glasses, because you all knew what was coming next.

“I, uh,” Nancy cleared her throat, as big, blue eyes tried to blink innocently, “I need to talk to you. Inside.”

Robin grinned and nodded, “Lead the way, Wheeler.”

Nancy frowned, but clumsily made her way inside with a giggle.

With a hop down, a salute, and a quiet, “Duty calls, boys,” Robin followed, all of your “boos” and “ow-ow-ow’s” slammed on by the door.

Katie pulled out a stack of cards, the boys finally came over and joined you, and your legs crossed over Eddie’s lap as you hid your deck from him with a terrible poker face.

He soothed his thumb over your ankle bone, wet his bottom lip before he grinned at you. “Baby, remind me to never take you to Vegas.”

“You have taken me to Vegas.” You touched your cards to your nose, hiding your grin.

Eddie sucked his teeth as he nodded, “Right, right, how could I forget.”

“Seriously dude,” Steve moaned at his cards, frowning, “Vegas was a mistake.”

Katie smacked the back of his head and he flinched, but with a glint in his gaze at her, “What the hell was that for.”

“They got Lacey because of Vegas,” she scolded, “It wasn’t a mistake.”

“Believe me, I remember. I don’t remember much, but that I do. It’s sort of hard to forget the results of that trip. What with the children who came out of it. Lacey, Annie and-”

“Luke is stupid!”

Steve sighed at the now sherbert colored sky. He groaned, “I knew it was too good to last.”

You rolled your eyes as you dropped your legs from Eddie’s lap as Lacey stomped up the stairs, huffing. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Eddie sit up, but you were already grabbing at your daughter’s crossed arms and pulling her towards you.

“Woah, super mean word, let’s think of a better one.”

“A buttface!” She frowned, but didn’t resist your embrace as she climbed onto your lap, a privilege that was fleeting.

“Nope, try again.” You shook your head, letting your chin rest on the top of her head as a hand soothed up her spine, while hers gestured wildly in search of the right word.

“He’s…he’s…impossible!”

You hummed, great word - especially for a seven year old.

“Why is he impossible?” You asked quietly, Katie taking the hint and getting Steve and Eddie to go back to a semi-normal conversation and their cards.

Lacey fiddled with your shirt collar, grumpy and big lips pouting just like her dad. “We were playing Dragons, and he said that I had to be the princess and stay in the tree house while he fought the dragon and saved me! I don’t want to just sit there!”

Steve smiled around the lip of his beer and Katie rolled her eyes, looking at you with a mouthed, “We’ll talk about that later.”

“Ah,” you adjusted in your seat, hugging her closer as her fingers roamed to the necklace around your throat. “I would be frustrated by that too. I like helping. I don’t want someone to come rescue me, either.”

You glanced up at Eddie who smiled softly at you, watching intently.

“Right. So I’m not playing. I don’t like him anymore,” she huffed, breath warm on your already sweaty skin and fingers leaving something sticky and smelling like pine trees all over you.

“You don’t, huh?”

“Nope,” she popped the ‘P’, but her gaze wandered over to the yard where the boy in question fought his sisters with sticks.

It took you a bit, and maybe you were just soaking up the smell of her strawberry shampoo, or the way she fit perfectly in your arms, but you finally asked softly, “Hey, you remember Dimitri and Anya?”

Lacey shifted with a dramatic sigh, but she nodded.

“I’m pretty sure they didn’t like each other either. But, then Anya showed him she could do anything he learned to do, right? And he listened to her? She helped save him in the end, remember?”

“Spoilers!” Steve grimaced and Lacey giggled which he smiled and booped her nose at.

“So,” you lifted your daughters chin, big eyes that reminded you of someone else peering at you unwaveringly as you continued, “You go tell that Harrington boy that Princesses can slay dragons too.”

“They can?” Lacey asked, unsure, unconfident, in a way that melted your heart, put it back together and melted it again.

You nodded and cleared your throat, trying not to cry. “Absolutely.”

She started to climb off of you, but you tugged at her waist, brushing a curl behind her ear as you smiled, “And baby?”

“Yeah?”

You kissed her forehead and whispered, “It’s okay to need some saving sometimes. If you want or need the help, kay?”

She nodded, kissed your cheek, and hopped off, bounding down the stairs with a sing-song call to her tone, “Ohhhh, Luuukkkee!”

Lifting the cards from the table, you smiled at the sound of your daughter antagonizing a Harrington and before you could make a jab at Steve, fingers were under your chin, and Eddie was tilting your head, lips on yours and stealing all of the air from your lungs.

His tongue swiped over your bottom lip and his hand cradled your jaw as you opened for him without thought, fingers curling into the fabric of his t-shirt until loud clearing of throats came from your right.

You broke away with a gasp, but Eddie pulled you back in for one more press of his lips and a whispered, “Sorry,” as he sat back down looking not sorry at all.

Steve tried to hide his grin as he threw a chip into the pile and Katie grinned at you as she quipped, “Wow, guys, you’re worse than the lovebirds inside.”

Eddie didn’t look up from his cards, but he raised his eyebrows. “I seem to recall an incident in my home on my kitchen counter on my daughter’s first birthday, Katherine.”

“Touche, Edward, touche,” she beamed as Steve choked on his beer.

He quickly changed the subject, swiping beer from his lips as he looked at you. “You’re gonna have to show me how you did that.”

Your wine glass froze halfway to your mouth and he laughed, coughed, covered his mouth with his fist. “I meant the talk with Lace. Not the kissing. Now that you guys’ll be closer we can…”

Eddie hung his head as Steve trailed off and you quirked an eyebrow. “Closer?”

Katie took a large gulp of her wine and Steve gestured to the grill with a hook of his thumb over his shoulder, “I’m gonna…”

“I’ll help!” Katie jumped up and followed.

“Eddie, what’s going on?”

He sighed, set his cards down, scooted his chair closer to you before his hands grabbed yours.

“I got a promotion, sort of.”

“Wh-what? Eddie, that's great!” You squeezed his hands, your heart hammering in your chest because he wasn’t looking at you still. The knowledge that there wasn’t really room for a teacher to get promoted stirring in your brain. “Wait, how…”

He grimaced, thumbs swiping over your knuckles as he nodded. “Right, yeah. So, it’s not so much a promotion, as it is a completely different job, at a completely different school. Or um, University.”

“In…in Chicago?” You were starting to piece it all together.

“Mhm,” he hummed, biting at his bottom lip that you instinctively reached up and pulled away from his teeth gently. He finally looked up at you, worried, and apologetic, but hopeful. “It’s, it’s a really great job. Tons of benefits. At the university. Way more pay. Flexible hours. I’d-I’d be home so much more. And I know, I know that moving is insane. But I just…”

He rambled, and you got lost, because you were thinking about telling the kids, about uprooting your entire life, about never seeing the patch of wall that the kids heights were on again. Your routine, your system, your grocery store, all pulled out from under you.

But then you then thought about how you’d only been on this vacation for a day and how much less stressed you were. How Steve and Katie and Robin and Nancy would be in the same city as you again. About how happy your kids were with all of them, how happy you were with them. The support you’d have. The promise of more time with Eddie. The adventure.

“Okay,” you said softly, interrupting whatever he was saying.

Eddie blinked at you, mouth parted in surprise.

“Okay? Okay what?”

You shrugged.

“Okay, let’s do it. Let’s move. Take the job.”

Eddie swallowed, he scooted closer and he cupped your jaw, thumbs grazing over your cheekbones as he murmured. “Okay, let’s do it, like you’re excited and want to, or okay let’s do it, like you don’t think you have a choice and you’re stressed and sad and I’m gonna have to unlock the door with the screwdriver again?”

“I mean,” you laughed, brushing over the worried lines of his forehead as you did, “Okay let’s do it. It’s gonna suck to move and tell the kids, but I think…”

They always tell you, you see stuff in slow motion in moments of panic, fear, but you never really believe it until it happens to you - seeing it all happen before it did.

“Oh my god!”

You were pushing back from Eddie, yelling your daughter’s name as she climbed up a tree, her foot about to step on a branch that looked dead and rotting even from this distance, and then she was falling.

There was a boy shouting beneath her, and his older sister’s shouting at him, screams of mom and dad that all four of you raced towards.

Everyone’s footsteps except Eddie’s slowed when you saw the eyelids fluttering over brown eyes pooling with big, crocodile tears and the leg already swelling with bright red trickling down from it.

Katie was shouting about grabbing the girl’s from inside, about ambulances and driving. Steve was pulling at all the other kids, reassuring them it was fine, and Eddie was focused on Lacey and Luke.

You don’t really remember what you did. You had arms around you and you spoke, but you don’t know what you said. Ushered into a car by big hands and a little one grasping yours tightly.

In the end, all it was, was a deep gash in her leg, nothing broken. Luke a little worse for wear with a fractured wrist, but he beamed when Lacey signed her name on the cast and asked you how to spell Princess before it, then kissed his cheek and told him thank you for saving her.

The rest of the week was the same as the first day after that, save for the two kids who huddled next to each other on the couch on the deck, their temples pressed together as they shouted at the screen of the Nintendo Eddie gave back almost immediately. Day three of watching his kid that close to a Harrington boy made him rethink the whole move and said it wasn’t happening anymore, which Steve promptly replied with, “Dude, they’re seven. Wait till she’s seventeen and dating a guy named Charlie.”

Nora’s head had perked up from coloring with the younger kids, an expression almost identical to her father’s as she scowled. “I thought you liked Charlie!”

“I do, I do sweetie.” Steve rubbed at his temple and gave Eddie and you a look that said he really did not like Charlie.

Time moved too quickly, and the light-hearted moments turned to memories, and soon bags were packed by the front door, and everyone was restlessly sleeping, not ready to say goodbye just yet.

Which is how you found yourself quietly making your way down the stairs to the kitchen, when you woke up to the empty bed and cold sheets.

You found him in the living room, eyes glued to the hand held device, his thumbs jabbing at it while he frowned.

“She wasn’t kidding,” he whispered, the girl in question tucked into his lap, her leg propped up on a pillow and drool spilling down his white shirt.

His arms flexed with each press, tattoos that were rarely on display anymore dancing under each movement. Short curls that the flecks of gray in stood out in the moonlight. Lines of worry and laughter all over his face, brown eyes gifted to all of your children because of the same ones maintaining their gaze on the console.

You slid onto the couch next to him, curling into his side with a yawn and a gentle rearrange of Lacey’s legs onto your lap. Fingers gesturing for him to give it to you.

Eddie handed it over, his arm scooping Lacey closer to his chest while his other wrapped around your shoulders.

You kept your eyes on the game as you whispered, “I’m sorry.”

The breath huffed out of his nose hit your jaw as he quietly laughed, “Babe, what?”

Mario leaped over blocks as you told him again, “I’m sorry. I froze, I don’t know what happened. Thank you for taking care of her, of all of them, I don’t-”

“We’re a team,” he kissed your cheek, his smile stayed pressed to your skin, “You know, a wise woman once said, ‘it’s okay to need some saving sometimes. If you want or need the help.’”.

A hum from your lips that fought a smile as his fingers squeezed your shoulder. You couldn’t help but grin at the screen though, when you pressed A for the final time.

“I think I know her. Same lady who said Princesses can slay dragons, too, right?”

The screen lit up with little fireballs, trills and chimes coming from the console signifying you beat Bowser - this time, all of which you quickly tried to cover up as Eddie shushed.

“Mommy,” her sleepy voice muffled in his chest.

“Yeah, sweetie?” You whispered, console silenced.

“Volume,” word almost lost to the yawn she gave before she was snuggling back into the crook of Eddie’s elbow and was out again.

Eddie tried not to snort or let his laughter shake her as your mouth fell open in shock and he took the Nintendo back, moving on to the next level.

You shook your head at your daughter, and glanced down at her wrapped and injured leg, at the peaceful features of her sleeping face.

“Man, you’re lucky you’re so cute,” you sighed.

It was silent for a while, and your eyelids started to flutter closed too, when Eddie spoke again.

“I totally thought Bowser was a turtle.”

#eddie munson #dad!eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #superbly subpars writing #cw alcohol #cw injury #cw blood #easy like sunday morning universe #easy like sunday morning AU

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wh1sp3rr · 1 year

Note

Can I req Kirishima being insecure and afraid to show his s/o his dorm room after Hagakure said “If I found out my boyfriend had a room like this, I’d dump him.”

𑊡˚+₊💭✦ — insecure + kiri; one shot

cw: sfw, fluff, innuendo, slight hurt & comfort, established relationship, dialogue driven, gn!reader, insecure!kiri

an: i had so many scenarios for this bc i hated when she said that as well!! but thank you for the req <33

-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-

your shirt is ruffled up, the shadows making its colour darker than what it is, so your boyfriend can rest his head on your stomach as you rake his messy red locks up and down in a languid motion. the click clack from his controller as he plays some video game on your tv screen in your dorm is the only sound that is echoed throughout while you lethargically watch the screen, the colours changing frequently in correspondence to the movement of his controller.

the breeze coming from your open window lets your curtains sway lazily only adding to the benign atmosphere. smooth tangerine light breaking in the simple beige-coloured walls as the time passes to sunset. it is only when you finally speak does the environment acknowledge the two of you’s presence.

“hey, babe?” you speak, breaking the comfortable silence.

“mhm?” he says, still well-focused on his game.

“out of curiosity, why don’t we ever stay in your dorm?” he doesn’t respond, still honed in on the massive collated pixels on-screen, his controller repeating its unbroken sound pattern. you rake through his hair more deeply to encourage a response. “eiji?”

“mmm?” he hums again, this time moving his eyes up to your angled face. “what’d you say, baby?” you look in the direction of the screen, a signal for him to turn off whatever he was playing, he pauses it once he gets the hint and moves up so that he’s sitting in a way where he faces you head on, rather than having your belly be his pillow.

his eyes are sleepy and his face has marks from how long he’s laid on you, hair ruffled like he just had training from your constant sweeps from forehead to crown. “i said,” you enunciate, “how come we never stay in your room?”

he lets his mouth open in realisation– like he’s saying ‘ohhh’ but nothing comes out. “i like your dorm, i love it here.”

“yeah but, why don’t we ever stay in yours is what i’m asking, is there, like, a reason? are you embarrassed or something?” his brows furrow and lips pull in a little, trying to think of a way of not sounding like a little bitch without completely lying. it’s hard. there isn’t really a way he can, so he lets out a breath, reminds himself that it’s you he’s talking to, not anybody else.

“okay, well, um, do you remember when we did that room king thing?” your face contorts as you try to recall what he was talking about. “when we first moved in?”

“oh my god, yeahhh! that was fun.” you touch his chest, “miss that.” your face rests in a warm smile, kiri emulating this expression, happy to know that at least you felt good about the memory.

“okay so, i don’t know if you remember or if like, anybody else heard, but,” you start to toy with his hands, pushing in his fingers and bringing them out again. for some reason, your touch stimulates security, and he begins speaking in a manner of confidence. “hagakure said some shit like–” “if i found out my boyfriend had a room like this i’d dump him,” he cheaply heightens his pitch to mock the girl’s voice.

you bring his hands closer to you to wrap them around your waist which he complies with, him rubbing up and down as a self-soothing device. “what? she said that when she saw your room?” you ask to clarify.

“yeah.” he nods.

you breathe in deeply taking in his musky scent of chanel cologne, and push his bangs atop the rest of his hair. the walls were now duller in orange rather than the frisky tangerine they were before. you soften your features, your voice does too when you sound, “oh baby,” kissing each of his eyes, them shutting slowly and looking down as you do so, “who d’ya think i voted for when we saw everyone’s room?” his eyes grow with his brows slightly furrowed in disbelief, yet he’s still smart enough to ask,

“me?”

you giggle coyly, “clever boy.”

“why though?” he says through his insecurity.

“mmm,” you say, “i’d remember if i could see again.” you glee cheekily.

he lets out a breathy laugh, all boyish and meek. “seriously babe.”

“ugh,” you smile, bringing his hands further up your back. “cuz i liked it, eiji.” you rub your nose against his and let your chests touch. “i liked the tapestry and that you had books and stuff, not too many to be pretentious but not any at all so you’d come across ignorant,” he lets you continue, shocked that you even have more to say, “and you had that painting..the great wave.”

“yeah,” he shyly smiles, “the great wave off kanagawa.”

“clever! boy!” you renunciate, playfully smacking his chest with each word.

“everyone knows what it’s called,” he says softly, insecure like before.

“no they don’t, baby.”

silence passes and you look down, anticipating another thing to say, deciding whether you should say it or not. you change your position and bring yourself closer to kiri’s ear, softly whispering with full sultriness, “and your punching bag. shit like that turns me on so much.” you kiss his cheek intimately. his face is furious with bashfullness.

“why?” he entertains.

“mmm,” you hum, pawing at the hair by his nape, “i like seeing a man in action, why do you think i always wanna do stuff after you’re done training?” you bring your face to him and he stares into you deeply. “you smell so good, and your hair is always so messy, when you put it up with that bandana,” you intentionally moan, “so hot.”

kirishima shamelessly looks down at your lips and then back up to your eyes, again and again. you notice this and encourage his intentions, “you can kiss me if you want.” he looks up into your eyes, pauses, and speaks with the utmost ferverency: “let’s go to my room.” he doesn’t even let you speak, picking you up bridal style with you only giggling as a response.

#whispers fairytales ౨ৎ #whisper answers ౨ৎ #wh1sp3rr #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima fluff #kirishima imagine #kirishima eijiro fluff #mha fic #bnha fic

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mshroom1e · 1 year

Note

Hi! Could i request Ortho finding out that Idia's online friend and eventually crush is the reader? And eventually he tries to matchmake them?

Hello!! Sorry for disappearing for a whole 2 weeks 💀 I've been busy with life and I ended up writing this fic way longer than I ppanned to. I hope you don't mind! Also, I got really stuck on some parts and wasn't sure which direction to go with the story. Apologies if it feels a little rushed.

Pr0ject Cupid | Idia x GN! Reader

type: fanfic

Summary: A pair of painfilly awkward people get set up by a member of the said pair's little brother.

5.8k words

tags: silly fluff, mutual crushing

Warning(s): very mild swearing

no way u acc saw me

bruh i couldve seen you with my eyes closed

you dumbass u just contradicted yourself

no shit

im gonna shave your eyebrows

...

Idia stifled a laugh and couldn't hide the cheesy grin that grew on his face as his eyes read over the pixelated letters on his monitor. About 3 weeks ago, he met you on a random server, and you instantly clicked. He wasn't one to form bonds with people so quickly, whether it was online or in person, but with you, how could he resist?

You got along like Q and W on a keyboard, plus you always reciprocated his nerdy comments and never got the wrong idea about any of his intentions. The only problem was, however, that you had no idea who each other were irl.

So, one day, Idia got curious about who you really were. He ended up searching for you on Magicam using the username he knew you by. There wasn't really much he was expecting as people usually used different names for their social media compared to the more nerdy online stuff.

Idia nearly fell out of his chair when a search result popped up, and a profile with quite a few posts showed up. It was you. There was no way it wasn't you.

His heart began beating faster than usual just at reading your captions, posts of your random thoughts, and the pictures you posted. You were definitely cute, maybe the prettiest person Idia had ever seen. Even though your facial features were pixelated, you somehow managed to make them look soft and warm, like an angelic version of yourself. There were also many pictures of foods you made in the Ramshackle Dorm, selfies with your friends, and a few pictures with Grim.

Okay, now Idia was panicking. He'd never felt the way he felt right now, but from the way his heart was running a marathon and he could feel warmth slowly creeping up his face, there was only one explanation. The description matched how the characters in dating sims would feel, and this was bad. He couldn't have a cru- no no no, a c-word. No way! He didn't even want to think of the word because it would only solidify his predicament in his head.

From his panic, his finger slipped and accidentally liked one of your posts. Idia's eyes widened as he saw the damage he'd already done as his brain went into full panick mode. There was no way to undo it, even if he un-liked the post. The notification must've already gotten to your phone and you would've noticed most likely and you'd block him, think he was a stalker and never speak to him again then he'd be become even more emo and-

He changed from his usual question mark posture in his chair to sitting in a fetal position in the corner of his room, hoping for the atoms in his body to slowly merge into the wall.

His phone in his pocket vibrated, and when Idia pulled out the device to see what the notification was, his heart nearly collapsed on itself. A flinch of his arm caused his phone to be launched across his room, and for some reason, he jumped to catch it, landing on a large, disorganised pile of manga with a loud crash. He hastily unlocked his phone to see what the alert was.

'Your EP has been restored!'

Damn.

There was a smooth sliding of the door to Idia's dorm room. Ortho stood? floated? levitated? at the entrance with a confused, yet worried expression in the visible part of his face.

"Idia? I heard a loud crash, and I was worried you got injured," Ortho floated closer to his brother.

"I'm f-fine!" Idia yelped.

'Hair tinted pink, increasing heart rate, flushed cheeks,'

Ortho's eyes drifted over to Idia's several monitors until he focused on a certain one.

"Yuu's Magicam profile?"

The little robot pieced two and two together before he said, "Oh, you like [Name], don't you?"

This was a really, really, really bad idea...

Idia's internal panick only escalated as he was dragged walking through campus with Ortho. Leaving his dorm room usually resulted in a one-sided fight for his life as every dialogue scene he had with another person besides his brother was set to hard mode by default.

Speaking with you in person was the best way to get to know each other better, Ortho would say. The problem was, Idia knew that you didn't know who he was, so it would probably be strange to suddenly have him speaking to you.

He was lost in his panicky thoughts when he felt someone bump into him, and he felt his body tipping back. (So unique and never seen before, I know.)

A hand quickly grabbed his wrist, hoisting him back upright. Ortho sent you a beaming smile with his eyes before quickly disappearing and leaving you alone with his brother, leaving the beanstalk to fend for himself.

Idia's heart nearly flipped in his stomach as he met your eyes. You let go of his wrist when he regained his balance, he almost fell over again.

"Careful," you smiled.

In his eyes, you looked like a panel from a manhwa where the love interest was introduced with flowers, sparkles, and glitter radiating around them.

"S-sorry," He managed to spit out, somehow sounding cohesive.

"It's okay, I just hope you didn't get hurt, I tend to grab onto stuff a little too tightly," you said with a sheepish chuckle.

Your laugh. Idia's ears felt blessed with such a delicate angelic sound. Like bells chiming in his ears, more harmonic than the songs from his favourite idol group's no.1 album. His heart was sent into overdrive, and he couldn't take it anymore and decided on the most rational option in his currently mushy brain.

To run.

So he ran.

You watched his retreating form with a fond look before you turned to face Ortho, who hid in a nearby bush and sent him a thumbs up.

This was progress, at least.

- A few days ago -

You had a crush on Idia. A huge one at that. There was no debate. You didn't even bother denying it.

You knew he rarely left his dorm room, so you barely saw him during the day. Seeing a flash of flamey blue hair dart around a corner just before you could fully get a look at the twitter logo-coloured candle always managed to make your heart squeeze and an undefeatable grin etch itself on your face.

Of course, a few days into talking to your new online friend, you already knew of his true identity but chose not to inform him of the fact. From what you'd seen on campus, he was the type of person to prefer engaging with others through the comfort of a screen rather than conversing face to face. And honestly, you couldn't blame him at all. It must've felt so stifling to always be conscious of the way you carried yourself, while choosing words carefully to not offend the person in front of you or make them think badly of you while simultaneously looking like a sane, functioning person.

So, you talked to him like an online friend would. After a few days of getting to know each other through public servers and direct messaging, you soon shared your interests and found common ground in a few of them. For example, you both were addicted to gacha games with diabolocal pity systems. He also started to open up to you, though you thought it was a little fast, but people tend to share a lot when speaking to someone through pixels on a screen as they felt more at home. He talked about his struggles when interacting with people and his constant anxiety about how people perceived him.

Being someone of minimal social intelligence, the most you could do was offer some general words of comfort about how everyone was different in their own way and some people are just more advantaged in certain aspects of life, social interaction being one of them.

As your feelings grew, you couldn't help but feel like your relationship was a little one-sided. You knew who exactly you were talking to, but as far as Idia knew, he was talking to and building a relationship with a person who could've been miles and miles away and he also barely knew who [Name] was.

Man, this really sucked.

- Yesterday -

Ortho was smart. It was only obvious since his mechanical brain had the efficency of a computer with infinite RAM. He knew his brother had met a new friend online, which explained his less gloomy aura and his anxious glances at his phone whenever they were in his room together.

It didn't take long for Ortho to learn that the person Idia was talking to also attended the same school. In his mind, he viewed finding out things about you as a way to further protect his older brother from harm.

Fast forward to later that day, Ortho cornered found you in the courtyard after you'd lost a bet with Grim and had to buy him a drink from a nearby vending machine.

He called out to you enthusiastically as he practically teleported to you, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

Long story short, Ortho figured out how you felt about Idia, and he was over the moon. His brother finally had someone who he could happily spend time with, and he couldn't be happier for him. He knew Idia better than anyone, and it was certain that getting close to Idia in face-to-face terms would take a lot for him to get used to and he decided it would be best to slowly ease your way into making conversations with him without being forceful or overwhelming him.

Thus began your joint conspiracy to rizz up get to know Idia better.

- Present -

It took about a day for you to come to the conclusion that you'd most likely never see Idia during school hours whether he was on campus or not. Your schedules were so unmatched that it was ridiculous. When you had a lesson in the alchemy labs, he'd be in a P.E lesson and when you were in the history of magic, he'd be in some classroom that might as well be at the other side of Sage's Island.

Luckily for you, Ortho informed you about Idia's current whereabouts. He was in the Board Game Club's classroom, probably playing- you guessed it- board games. It felt like some sort of secret stealth mission, plotting where to catch Idia with Ortho so sneakily. You just hoped that this silly plot would work.

Now that you were in front of the clubroom's door, you had no idea what to do. Your brain already left your body shortly after your heart that was beating a mile a minute and had long since jumped out of your chest to who knows where. You'd worked so hard to get to this point (not really) and now that you were here, what were you going to do?

Showing up at his clubroom unannounced totally sounded like stalker behaviour from some poorly written fanfic, and you definitely were not about that life. What if you just entered casually? Did you have a friend in the board game club? Probably not since you didn't even know the names of the people in your homeroom class, save for Adeuce and Grim.

Deciding to swallow your nerves and whatever other anxiety that was clogging your airways, you calmly slid open the door. Surprisingly, the club had quite a few members present, but it wasn't too densely populated. Your eyes immediately lit up when familiar floaty blue flames caught your attention. He was alone on a table next to one of the room's walls. His usual board gaming partner, Azul, was nowhere to be seen. It was safe to assume he was somewhere exploiting some poor unfortunate soul of all their mortal possessions with his buy-one-get-one-free pair of henchmen.

You approached Idia, more nervous than a turkey the day before Thanksgiving. He noticed you and almost jumped out of his own skin.

Was he dreaming? If not, why else would you show up at the board game club? Before he knew it, he started to sweat. Every step you took closer to him made his poor heart run laps. The confident (Idia's POV. This does not accurately reflect current events.) stride in your step, and the smile you gave him as you approached made his face heat up, and the tips of his hair grow warmer. His flight- please there is absolutely no fight- instinct almost took over as he considered running out of the room at full speed.

There was no Ortho to help him communicate if he ended up having to talk to you. He was all alone for this pop-up Pokemon battle.

A random board game caught your eye, and you picked it up, deciding to use it as a shield to not let your conversation get stabbed in the chest by the painful spear called awkwardness.

"Hi, Idia." You said casually with your usual grin. 'Great start'

You failed to catch Idia's mortified expression as it disappeared as suddenly as it arrived. He opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn't get any words out. To his surprise, you didn't seem to mind his silence and just sat down in the chair across from his.

"Sorry to bother you," you continued, "If you want me gone, just say the word." The second part was intended to be lighthearted as you let out a low chuckle after you were done talking.

He quickly scrambled into his bag and pulled out a slim, grey tablet, and began to type.

"I don't mind you being here at all, [Name]." A voice from the device's speakers that sounded too much like Idia's said. You weren't all too shocked since you'd seen him use it around school a few times and had even seen the thing floating around campus by itself. You'd just never have a conversation with "it".

"Woah, is that a voice program?Did you make it yourself? I've only seen it being used for vocaloids, and even those mess up a few times. Did you use a sample of your voice? Is everything prerecorded? If you-" You blurted out, quickly smacking a hand over your mouth to shut yourself up before you could ramble any further.

Great job, [Name].

Idia's eyes lit up with surprise at your words as he quickly started typing something on his screen. His features moulded into a proud smirk, "Yeah, it's made with a sample of my voice. I made it using a vocaloid as a reference."

"Really?!" You almost jumped out of your seat, eyes practically shining with stars. Gosh, he really was so cool.

He nodded frantically as the tips of his firey hair faded into a warmer hue. Students in his dorm had the same base interests as he did. However, he was almost always too nervous to initiate a conversation with any of them. But with you, the nervousness he felt didn't try to suffocate him for once and instead felt like a sweet, comfy flutter in his chest.

"I found this when I walked into the room, and it looked fun. Wanna play?" Your short exchange feuled you with a little more confidence as you built the courage to ask him to play a board game with you.

You hadn't even looked at the game's cover before picking it up. Imagine your surprise at finding out you'd picked up "Monopoly Bass Fishing Edition".

Great job.

Now, Idia probably saw you as some weird fish-obsessed kid (no offence to Octavinelle) who probably looked up how to make bass fishing bait in their spare time. The cover was hideous. A massive bass fish was in the middle, surrounded by loops of smaller bass fish all saying things in speech bubbles where the letters were modelled to look like bass fish. To top it all off, there was a massive glittery title in the colour of neon orange that said, "Monopoly: Bass Fishing Edition." Underneath in equally as eye tormenting sentence bordered off by a wiggly pink line that read "Get ready to be schooled!" Get it? Coz groups of fishes are called schools-

This was going to be painful.

You liked to think you knew all the rules of Monopoly by heart. Especially after seeing relationships crumble over the neverending board game.

Idia didn't seem phased, so you assumed he already knew the rules of the game, too.

You played for a bit, taking turns to roll a double to see who could start first. The first to roll a double was eventually Idia, so he took the first turn.

You knew Idia was competitive from the way he would obliterate the opposition during your online meet-ups in matches. What you didn't expect was to end up going bankrupt after only a few loops around the board. It took a while for you to accept defeat, but after seeing the small, triumphant smile that gently made its way onto Idia's face, any loss was worth it.

Now that you looked around the room, most of the board game club members had long since departed, and it was only you and your blue-haired friend left in the room. A blanket of quiet and slight awkwardness fell over the two of you as you both looked at anything but each other.

"We should uh, but the pieces away," you suggested.

He looked at you, a little surprised at your sudden breach of silence, before he quickly nodded. "R-Right."

After stiffly putting the pieces away, occasionally flinching when the tips of your fingers made contact as you passed some game pieces between yourselves, there wasn't much else for you to do despite twiddling your thumbs. From an outsider's point of view, the aftermath was painfully awkward as neither of you had anything to say. Sitting in silence wasn't always a bad thing, but come on.

Your brain frizzled as you tried to think of something, anything to say to start a conversation.

"Nice weather we're having today." So creative.

As if the universe was saying a big "f*ck you", there was a loud rumble of thunder outside the window before massive raindrops began to smack on to the grass and pavement outside, each with a louder 'plap!' than the previous one each time.

Idia giggled before trying to hold back a laugh, which eventually turned into even more giggles. You stared at him for a few seconds, stunned. You hadn't actually heard him laugh before as he always looked so terrified around you. Sure, he was laughing at your stupidity, but this was a start, right?

It didn't take long for you to join in, laughing at yourself too.

Maybe coming to his clubroom on impulse wasn't so bad after all.

"Sam's store is releasing this SSR-tier set of trading cards today, and I have to go get it," Idia muttered to himself as he scurried down a hallway of the Ignihyde dorm. "No one's gonna that early, especially since it's not gonna attract any normies-"

"But what if there's a whole mob of NPCs there? Worst case scenario is a few of them showing up to do some early morning shopping, so grabbing what I need and skidadling outta there is gonna be ez."

Ortho was most likely in his room resting at this hour, so Idia decided not to bother him. Besides, it was only a trip to the school store. He should be fine, right?

Wrong.

It was not ez peasy.

It just happened to be that the same day Idia's treasured ultra rare cards were released on the same day as Sam's new mystery drink that the whole school went crazy for. By the time Idia was about to leave the store after paying for what he came for, the whole area was packed, and it was almost impossible to move. Waves of students rushing to the till after grabbing a bottle of the new beverage washed over the store grounds.

People, people, people, and more people. Sweaty teenagers seemed to fight tooth and nail just to get their hands on a bottle. It was like the kids from the UK when Prime was launched. (iykyk) Everywhere he turned, he seemed to bump into another 3 people and get elbowed by another five. The sheer power of the crowd almost swept him off his feet, and he felt himself being dragged to the opposite direction from where he was headed. He reached his hand out to grab at something, while the other held his cards close to his chest, but there was nothing to hold onto for support. The only option was to become one with the crowd.

As he was about to give up and accept his fate, his outstretched hand was tugged on by a familiar, gentle yet firm grip, which felt like he was being pulled ashore after drifting off into the ocean. Idia's body was pulled upright and into a much less crowded space. A pleasant warmth spread across his chest as he saw the face of his saviour.

A part of him felt mortified while the other felt relieved. He was glad to have been pulled out of the sea of people, but he felt a little lame to have to have been saved by someone else, as if he couldn't handle himself. Another reason, the more obvious one, was because it was you. In his point of view, you always showed up at random times and ended up helping him without realising how much of an impact your actions held.

"I'm getting this feeling of deja vu," you smiled, leading Idia to a bench opposite the store.

"You helped me again-" Idia muttered, his eyes downcast.

You tilted your head, a little confused, "Hm?"

"N-No, it's not that I have a proble-" He cut himself off, "I, um-"

How did he manage to talk himself into a corner like this? Trying to talk to you felt like a puzzle with the myriad of emotions all rushing through his head at once, and he was bound to mess up somewhere.

"Don't sweat it," you responded. Your smile unwavering.

For whatever reason, Idia's anxious jumble of words never phased you. Your willingness to let him take his time when talking to you gave him a sort of confidence, and he could hope to speak with confidence that he didn't even know he was capable of.

A ray of reflected early morning sunlight that bounced off the shiny packaging of what Idia held securely in his hands and it caught your eye.

"Is that (insert game reference here)?!" Your voice cracked as you said the name of the franchise.

The mood was instantly lightened at your change in focus, and Idia felt himself get giddy. He was so happy to share a conversation with someone who wasn't a so-called "normie."

His excitement faded though, a bit, when he looked up to find that you looked slightly disappointed. You looked at Idia in confusion, but shrugged.

You sighed, looking away.

Why were you disappointed? Was it something he did? Oh no, what if you thought he was lame for getting trapped in a crowd like that, and you actually thought he was such a bother the whole time-

"I still haven't managed to get my hands in a copy," you frowned.

"Oh," He sounded stunned, which confused you. "Um, I-" He swallowed, fighting the urge to pull his hood over his head and hide.

"I mean-" Idia's eyes seemed to glance at everything and everywhere other than at you.

His breath caught in his throat, and the feeling multiplied by a gazillion when he saw Ortho watching him from behind a tree. He almost choked on whatever air he'd just managed to inhale into his trachea.

To make matters worse, Ortho held a cute but terrible made neon blue glittery banner that said, "Talk to them, Idia!!!"

Wasn't he resting?

The poor nerd (affectionate) wanted to evaporate on the spot.

"What were you about to say?" You asked, not seeing the silliness behind you.

Idia glanced back and forth between you and Ortho, wishing with every single bone in his body that the 50/50 gacha in front of him right now would go his way and you wouldn't turn around at all.

Imagine his horror when you followed his worryingly mortified gaze, and he saw our eyes widen a fraction, and you slapped a hand over your mouth.

"Ortho?"

He panicked for a good few seconds before he did what he did best and bolted away from you with a stubborn blush creeping up his neck.

"Huh?Wait up!" You called after him, but it was futile.

Ortho soon waved happily at you as he followed Idia back to what you assumed was the Ignihyde dorm.

"Where did you-" Idia began, speedwalking to the Hall of Mirrors with more agility than he knew his G-fuel filled body could possess.

"I did some research, and it showed that people your age have a 60% more chance at talking to someone they like when they're encouraged by someone else!" Ortho chirped with the certainty of the sun rising in the east.

"I'm not- It's not-" Idia couldn't find the words to use to retort at his younger brother. The way his sunny amber eyes shimmered with glee was enough to punch the words of protest that Idia could ever muster right down the drain. "J-Just tone it own a notch next time..." He finished with a small frown.

"Okay!" Ortho sang, floating into Ignihyde's mirror after the older Shroud.

Idia signed and pulled the strings of his hoodie tighter to conceal his face more. Now that you were somewhat aware of how he felt about you, he had no idea how to face you the next day.

It had been over a week, and you'd gotten no contact from Idia or Ortho. It was safe to assume that Idia probably didn't leave his room a single time in that time frame. A metaphorical banner was built between you as he had practically gone AWOL on everything you could use to contact him. So, you couldn't even talk to him with your online persona and try to understand how he felt by hoping he'd confide in his online bestie even a little. Not that you wanted to intrude on his privacy, but the fact that things seemed to be falling apart between you two before you properly even got to know each other hurt a lot more than th fact that you convinced yourself of- the fact that it looked like he didn't want to see you again. You sighed, closing your computer.

This was pointless. No doubt, he doesn't feel the same way towards you, and you really should start accepting it. Maybe he thought you were strange? Or it was creepy that you always seemed to be around when he was in trouble? Maybe he thought you were a stalker? He'd probably figured out your online identity and blocked you, hence the lack of activity on any of his accounts over the last week and a bit.

But you couldn't accept it. Not until you know more, and you don't think it'll help if you keep prying at the subject, especially since it won't do any good in the end. It was useless to keep trying. You grabbed your phone and checked the screen for any messages, but there were none. You put it back on the nightstand and turned on your side, burying your face in your pillow.

You lay there for what felt like forever and eventually fell asleep.

Morning soon arrived, and you woke up to a series of knocks at the main door of Ramshackle Dorm. The quick thuds of knuckles striking wood resounded throughout the whole bottom floor of the building, probably enough to alert your cat roommate out of his venture into Dream Land.

The perpetrator was definitely unexpected. It was a fine weekend, and you hadn't been expecting a visit from anyone at all, especially not the younger Shroud brother.

Rubbing your eyes and letting out a yawn as you opened the door, you had to squint to see something else other than a mop of flickering blue and a white block.

"Ortho?" You blinked. Your statement sounded more like a question to yourself than to the other party.

"Good morning!" Ortho said cheerfully, waving with one arm while balancing an assortment of books and various games under the other. He was carrying four plastic bags full of stuff, including a large bowl with some cereal, milk, eggs, toast, fruit, and orange juice inside it.

"Err..." you replied.

"We came to hang out!" Ortho cheered, which confused you even more.

"What? And who's 'we'??" You questioned all at once, not even knowing where to begin.

"Idia wants to apologise for running away from you for the past week. He said he's really sorry and did it because he was scared," he rambled on with his usual cheery tone and pointed to a nearby tree, "And we brought food!"

Behind said tree stood said Idia, holding onto the tree's bark with a grip for dear life while only the top half of his face peeked out.

What.

- Flashback to earlier -

"Now, what do I do? This is demon mode difficult- I'd rather fight Absolute Virtue from the original release of FF11 all over again for 16 hours straight than face them again... Can I get an F in the chat for this one..." Idia mumbled to himself in a string of incomprehensible gibberish as he sat in a fetal position at the corner of his room while his hood covered his entire head, and he rocked back and forth.

"This is the worst-"

"Cheer up, Idia!" Ortho handed him a charger, "You can always talk to them online if it helps!"

"At this point, they've probably forgotten about me. People's online friends get Men in Black'ed from their brains all the time. I'll just look like some weird guy that goes,'Hey kids!wanna to get free RAM for your computer?' or something-" his rampant thoughts only dug him further into his self-made pit of despair.

"Hmm," Ortho pondered, "Let's go see them!"

"Are you kidding?! No way!" He shook his head rapidly and started rocking himself even faster, "If they don't see me, maybe they'll even forget I exist and I can become one with the void..."

"Don't be ridiculous, Idia. We can go see them right now!" Ortho hovered around, gathering a bunch of gaming equipment and books, "Hanging out like friends will get rid of any tension in the air!"

"No!" Idia protested, but it was too late.

He'd already been picked up by a robotic arm, and off they went.

"That's pretty much what happened," Ortho recalled as you lead the pair the lounge.

"Right... But I still don't get how that means he's sorry..." You muttered.

"Why don't you tell them, Idia?" Ortho looked at his brother, "I'll leave you two to talk here while I make some snacks!"

The older Shroud twiddle his fingers and stared at the floor, his hood still covering his head.

It took a few seconds of silence before Idia began talking.

"Uh," he spoke quietly and cleared his throat twice before proceeding, "I was so stupid."

"Huh?" You said, gaping at Idia.

"I know I've done stupid things, but this was beyond stupid. Like, way too stupid! Noob at Subway Surfers level of stupid!" He babbled on, his voice cracking with uncharacteristic emotion.

He took a deep, shaky breath and closed his eyes, attempting to compose himself. His hair turning pink. "I kept telling myself it was okay for us to keep being friends online even though I found your Magicam page and accidentally liked one of your posts and knew who you were but you didn't know who I was and I felt guilty and then you suddenly showed up then I realised I l-l-like you and then that thing at the shop happened and you probably thought it was so cringe-"

Then it clicked. So he thought you thought he was weird? He didn't hate you.

It felt like a huge weight was lifted off your chest.

Then, you chuckled, snickered, giggled, then let out waves of laughter. Idia stared at you, dumbfounded.

"This whole time, haha, I thought I was the one who did something wrong."

"No! You didn't," He quickly jumped in.

"Wait, you just said that you like me...?" You pointed to yourself, and you felt your face grow warm.

Silence landed like a wall of pure steel between the two of you.

He gaped at you with wide eyes. Dang it! He seriously didn't mean to blurt that part out loud. Curse him and his tendency to blab everything he thought aloud as soon as he started talking!

Idia covered his reddened face with his hands.

"What a coincidence," you smiled, "Since I like you too."

You gently pulled his hands away from his face and gave him your brightest grin. He froze as soon as your skin made contact, and his breathing quickened, his hair turned a full, passionate pink.

"Ahahahaha...!" He stammered.

A sudden noise filled both the room, followed by a long silence, causing the both of you to turn towards the source. Your heads turned in sync to see Ortho standing at the door with a camera after it let out a painfully loud 'click!'

He gave the pair of you a huge smile with his eyes.

"For memories' sake!" He cheered.

Bonus

After you'd made breakfast together with the ingredients that the brothers brought, you, Idia and Ortho, sat in a triangle on the floor, while Grim watched lazily from the sofa. It was more of a joint interrogation performed against the little robot with Grim serving as an audience.

"So, Ortho, you knew Idia already knew who I was?" You raised an eyebrow, "And you knew about how he felt??"

"And you already knew that they liked me? And you knew they knew who I was and didn't tell me??" Idia squeaked, "And you told them to come to the store that day?!"

Ortho picked up a controller and was suddenly immersed in gameplay.

"Haha..." He sweatdropped.

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truths33k3r4 · 3 months

Text

Ok. Ok. Ok- this is…this is fine. There’s more- heheh. There’s more Mikeys- Or, Mikey-like creatures- Just two more! This.. this is FINE.

A few beats pass in tormented silence as I stand and try to process the addition of more creatures that have scurried into my life. The whole of this stressful day has really taken a lot out of me mentally- and now it’s really starting to show.

Oh shoot. I should say something.

I try to shake the rumbling mists of worry and panic out of my head, settling for just the tingling sensation of sheer and utter confusion.

“H-hello?”, I say to these new brightly-clad creatures now staring daggers into my soul, “I- I’m sorry this is just a lot to..to process- I..”

I take a breath.

“Okay. Mikey will be fine,” I hold out my hands in a steadying motion, “I gave him some medicine and his infection should be gone in a fe-”

“WHAT?” The blue one, Leo, shrieked, pulling Mikey’s weak body closer to his own protectively, “An infection?!” He gently cups Mikey’s sluggish face into his hands, “Mikey! Come on! Wake up!!!”

Mikey slurs some incomprehensible words before allowing his head to sag deeper into Leo’s arms. This just makes the tension in the room rise, as well as fan the flame of hatred flickering in the eyes of the creature adorned with a bright purple mask and pixel-like markings.

“He-He’ll be okay.” I say as I try to take a step forward, but am abruptly halted by the sharp hiss from the purple creature, “I gave him medicine, and the doc said he’ll be okay in a few days.”

I watch as Leo’s eyes search me, trying to decipher if I or my words can be trusted. Neither of the creatures release me from their soul-piercing gazes, but eventually Leo’s expression softens, while the purple one’s dulls.

“Wh-what did you give him?” Leo hesitantly asks, as the purple one joins him on the bed alongside Mikey, “I don't think our kind can handle human medicine.”

The purple creature gives a minimal nod of agreement without letting his eyes off me.

I slowly.. very slowly.. crouch to the floor so that I’m now at eye-level with all the creatures. My heart continues to pound in my ears, and my chest feels warm with re-kindled adrenaline. It’s also kinda.. getting hard.. to breathe.

“I didn’t give him any human meds- it was-” I pause, asking myself if I will offend the heck out of the other creatures if I say “animal medicine”. But it was the truth, and therefore quickly escapes my mouth. “It was for animals. The doc said it would be safer for him.”

Leo finally turns his piercing blue and brown eyes away from my jade. The purple one’s silvery-blue irises also release me from their grip to look down at Mikey. Leo’s head twists and tilts, looking over Mikey like he’s a doctor inspecting a patient. The purple one sits close by, doing the same. After a little bit, the two brightly-clad creatures turn to look at each other. Leo shrugs, while the purple one gives another subtle nod. They turn their eyes back to me.

“He’ll be okay?” Leo asks me, as his eyes once again search my soul for any deceit hiding in the shadows.

“Yes. The doc said he’ll be..” I gulp down the sudden taste of acid in my throat, ”..f-f-fine..”

My chest aches as I feel my airway slowly closing up with every breath I take. My ears fill with a sharp hum as my vision starts to make the forms of the three creatures before me double..and triple..

Not now. COME ON, NOT NOW.

My episodes have never come with an invitation, and this time around was no different. It’s embarrassing enough when it happens in front of other people, but of course it had to happen in front of three turtle-cat-creature things.. I love my life.

As my vision continues to pixelate and distort, I instinctually sit down as fast as I can. The sudden thud makes the purple creature let out a low growl, but I’m too busy trying to breathe to notice him. Before my nausea begins, I shut my eyes tight and go limp on the floor. My vision goes dark, but my other senses remain awake, hearing the faint sounds of scuttling paws cautiously creeping closer.

A hand the size of a bottle cap touches my face.

The sensation of the touch was similar to brushing your skin up against leather. Compared to Mikey’s more sharp and jagged scales, this creature’s body was smooth and covered in tiny scales delicately placed in neat rows.

“Are you cognitive, human?”

My brain can’t connect the voice to any I’ve heard before, so I assume this is the purple creature’s paw on my face. Suddenly I’m very grateful that I can’t feel any claws piercing into my skin.

I feel the small hand pull away with a gasp as my legs and shoulders start shaking.

“What the?!”

I can only hum in response to his concern, but it comes out as a hushed wince.

I probably just made him more worried..

In a few minutes, I can finally open my eyes again, letting my dark world alight with the solid teals and greys from my room’s walls. The pixels of a small, concerned, and purple face crystalize before me.

“H-hhhhi.” I choke out as my breathing slowly steadies. “S-sorry..”

“Why are you apologizing, human?” The purple creature retorts, waving it’s widdle hands in the air, “It is highly unlikely you did that on purpose.”

If I didn’t just have an episode, I would be AWWW-ing like crazy right now.

“Is she okay?” Leo calls out to Purple, still holding Mikey close.

“Hmmm.” Purple leans over my shoulder to look directly into my face, poking my skin, and using his widdle hands to widen my eye. He pulls away and plants his hand contemplatively on his chin, “It..seems she’s fine.. Course, I’m no human expert. None of the books in the Toshokan have ever documented the illusive human…I mean- I would know, seeing how I have read every single page-”

“- Less nerding more helping, Brainiac.” Leo mocks as he looks down from the height of the bed.

With movement as fast as a rewinding snail, I shakily push myself off the floor into a sitting-up position. My legs and shoulders ache from my shivers, but my brain and body are finally returning back to normal.

“I’m.. I’m alright. Totally normal- nothing to worry about-” I say, as I sigh and stroke my neck, “..Happens when I’m stressed out.”

Leo tilts his head, “Why would you be st-”

“-Really, Leo?” Purple sighs, motioning to himself and the blue-clad creature dramatically, “You think it would make sense that she would be as cool as a cucumber with..this whole situation???”

“Uh-yeah!” Leo rolls his eyes and drops his shoulders, “She should be honored to be in the presence of greatness~ Maybe she’s stressed cause she woke up to your gigantic forehead, Donnie.”

“Scoff! Highly inaccurate, Nardo. My forehead is the perfect size to contain my magnificent brain.”

I blink, restarting my brain to go into *processing mode* once again.

Okay.. Stay calm..

There’s three.. Turtle creatures.. in your bedroom. Mikey, Leo, and..um- oh, Donnie. There’s three now. That’s fine. I’m fine. This is fine.

“WHAT’S GOIN’ ON?? WHERE’S MIKEY? WHAT WAS THAT THUD??” Another more scratchy and low voice rang out from behind me, making me jolt something awful.

…Four…..There’s..

..four.

What happens next, @phoebepheebsphibs? :) Also- MAN ALIVE IT FELT AMAZING to get back to writing after all this time!!!! It's good to be back. :)

~ Melissa

( I actually had to make my own personal post in order to add it to my library of links, sooo here's the official post for chapter 7 of me and Phoebe's collab story! :) )

#double mutated mikey #double mutated mikey story #collaboration with Pheebs!#rise of the tmnt #rise fanfic #fanfic #story #tw passing out #tw panic

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lulu-recs · 6 months

Text

lead me into the light by third_crow

“wh– well– why–” james stammered, attempting to get his bearings, because if he didn’t, and he let regulus tell him ‘kiss me’ one more time, his heart would probably give out. “why don’t you get sirius to help?” regulus narrowed his eyes. “because sirius would just knock his teeth out,” he said as though it were obvious. “yes,” james hissed, “and he’ll knock my teeth out if I kiss his little brother.” “oh, yeah, great, so I’m the sacrifice,” he sighed. “you can take a hit, Potter, I’ve seen you on the quidditch pitch,” regulus waved him off, and james groaned, leaning away from him. “precisely,” regulus stepped right into his space, and james felt his chest go a little hot.

or, Regulus asks James for a favor to get his ex off of his back, and James makes bad choices.

like real people do by third_crow ♡

“could I get a name for the order?” marlene asked. “serious,” the man replied. “like the star,” he clarified, and remus mentally scratched out 'serious' and rewrote 'sirius' in his head. “the… star?” marlene asked, her pen hovering over the cup as she hesitated. “s-i-r-i-u-s,” remus said. he stocked croissants into the display case, not looking up. “the dog star,” he added, “brightest star in the sky, actually. visible from both hemispheres.” when he looked over, the man– sirius– seemed surprised, his eyebrows raised as remus spoke, and when remus finished, he blinked a few times before smiling lopsidedly. “er– yeah,” he breathed a laugh. “that.” there was a baby on his hip. somehow, it had taken remus a second glance to notice that.

or, remus works as a barista and sirius comes in every morning with the world's cutest baby, and man, these two just wrote the book on mutual pining, huh?

season of pumpkin spice by blackoccamy

out of many obvious perks of working at a coffee shop - like actually being paid and having near unlimited access to coffee - if you had to select one, you would point to the customers you could observe. of course, you knew all the stories about how working in customer service was a pain, people being basically just people, sure. but it has never been the case in the coffee shop that you worked for now. it was hard to explain why. all kinds of different types of beings would parade in front of the counter on any given day, but either there was some actual magic at work, or the enchanted cafe only attracted the polite ones.

the lines we cross by yumenouveau

once the idea hit him, sirius could not get it out of his head. remus was perfect for him, so why had they never dated? and now that they were both newly single, why did remus think it was such a bad idea?

moonstruck by pixelated (prettyremus)

sirius can ease his aches with a few little tricks he’s learned over the course of their friendship and inevitable romantic relationship— a nice hot bath, a few pain relieving potions, a full-body massage… a good fucking.

and, luckily for them both, sirius knows how to tame the wolf.

the other side of the wall (or laundry day is every day) by bluberd

sirius has never been the most moral of people, but he's pretty sure that wanking off to the sounds of remus having sex is crossing some sort of line.

you make loving fun by playitasitlays (on going)

remus lupin is a barista with zero social skills and boom one day he meets the mysterious, leather jacket-wearing sirius black. also, remus is best friends with regulus black. what could go wrong?

one single thread of gold tied me to you by itsprettyunfortunate ♡

after a really terrible one-night stand, sirius wants nothing more than to forget what happened. it doesn’t help at all that he keeps running into that handsome stranger wherever he goes.

would that I by third_crow (on going) ♡

sirius studied Remus’ face. he was curious what he thought of all of this, the only one of them who didn’t have a mark– theoretically– and the only one with a muggle parent. muggles didn’t get marks, he knew. if remus’ parents were soulmates, then they wouldn’t know it. he wondered if there was a way to tell, though. if they could just feel it, somehow, even without the help of some magical fate.

because it seemed like something you would just know, just from being near someone, from being close enough to them, from being in the same space. like their souls would attract like magnets or like water droplets traveling down a window, waiting to merge until the last moment when they realized they were on the same path, and then they’d become one.

was that fate, sirius wondered? he realized remus was staring back at him, his eyes puzzled and curious and warm. sirius looked away first and didn’t look back, pushing down something heavy and impossible in his chest.

or, the marauders soulmates au where your soulmate shares your scars in gold, and everyone is oblivious, pining, and/or in denial.

what's it gonna be? by fen (alarainai), industrations ♡

the probability of meeting the same stranger twice in london is low. but three times? well, that’s pretty damn impossible. it’d take fate, destiny and some divine intervention from the universe to have them meet again.

“sirius?” ...maybe the universe really is looking out for him.

or sirius, remus, missing trains and the embarrassing pursuit of happiness.

say what you mean by fen (alarainai), industrations ♡

james thinks the man might be new, which would explain his attitude and lack of real grace as an attendant. james still grabs the drink with a thanks, taking a much-needed sip.

“anything else?” regulus asks. your number, your life story, your hand in marriage.

“nothing for now.”

or winning over the grumpy flight attendant: a guide by james fleamont potter.

stay with me by charmstwit, pigeononacloud (on going)

secondary genders have been repressed for generations until one day they are suddenly back. james, remus, and sirius are just trying to navigate 7th year at hogwarts without losing their minds. luckily for them, they are best friends who are willing to help each other out. it's just a little bit of knotting between friends, right? totally temporary.

casanova & his moon by youprettythings (on going)

it was difficult for him to ignore. sirius was impossible to ignore, really. he knew what he had signed up for. he knew it wasn't a good idea when he put his signature down on the lease, but he couldn't help himself. remus liked to think he was an intelligent person, but it seemed logic and self preservation went out the window once a certain steely eyed individual became involved.

remus loves sirius. sirius is clueless. after pining after his best friend for years, remus decides he needs to put an end to it. he gets out of his comfort zone and tries to move on - making questionable decisions in the process.

sirius sees something he wasn't meant to and deals with the aftermath.

two idiots falling in love in winter by r33sespieces

when art history PhD student remus lupin books the last ticket to an anniversary showing of titanic, he’s forced to share a loveseat with a stranger, and a chance encounter turns into so much more.

a cauldron full of hot, strong love by r33sespieces

when sirius black bumps into his favourite omega camboy at a work event, it doesn’t go even remotely as he expects. he smells wrong, for one thing. for another, he has a partner sirius didn’t anticipate. but when sirius snags an invite home with him anyway, what else is a lonely alpha to do?

it is a good time to panic! by blackoccamy

when drama strikes, who you gonna call? Harry calls his fey-father. obviously.

borrowed potion by stardust_kenobi

after a long day, remus suggests using the veritaserum he borrowed from severus in a game of truth or dare with you and sirius. you aren't able to hide your feelings any longer after just a few drops of the potion.

the winner takes it all by damn_it_derek_hale

you planned to leave your life in wizarding britain behind after your relationship with sirius black and remus lupin fell apart but then mycroft holmes presents you with the option to take his place in the duelling competition that hogwarts is hosting.

unfortunately, this means coming face to face with remus and sirius who have realised what they've lost and will try anything to win you back.

raspberry donut by samunderthelights

since losing his job, sirius spends his days at the coffee shop where remus and lily work. remus is happy to spend more time with him, but he can't help but worry that sirius is in trouble. because he spends hours scribbling something down in his notebook - which he closes as soon as Remus comes near him - and it isn't like him to keep a secret.

my cup of tea by fivepips

sirius runs a queer coffee shop, remus waits outside to meet up with a friend every week -- until they finally come in one day.

i can be mean too, baby by rottin6

wide eyes stare at remus and he loves it. “what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” he can feel where pale cheeks heat up beneath his palms. he can see where small hands clenched into fists down at his sides.

sirius looks down at his lips and the motion makes remus look down at his and before he can even look back up, sirius is all over him. his mouth on his, slick with cherry flavoured lip-gloss. it’s all consuming, heavy and everything he wants. and even though something nags at him to pull away, he kisses him back.

kisses him like they weren’t fighting a few hours ago. kisses him like they didn’t break up and ruin each other completely. kisses him like he can’t get enough.

or, sirius crashes his ex's party.

blends by rvltn909

words got in the way sometimes, but remus got the sense sirius knew what he was trying to say.

another coffee shop au.

bewitched, bothered, and bewildered by anonymous

it is the marauders final year at hogwarts and the graduation ball is fast approaching. but remus doesn't know how to dance. luckily, he has just the friend to show him.

staying strangers by 3amandcounting (on going) ♡

sirius get's given a wrong number, remus definitely isn't being sarcastic, and they should probably agree to stay strangers...

#r. march 24 #ao3 #check tw’s and descriptions!#these are all over the place #Some are pure fluff and others basically just smut so check what you’re comfortable reading x #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #regulus black

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notdogice · 5 months

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Well, it's been about a year since I started showing off my Pony Town cos' so I guess I should show off some more. This time we're delving into my Dragon Ball cos'! There aren't too many of them, but they have a few neat little techniques I used to create them.

First off we have Goku! He was one of the first few DB cos' I did and he has changed quite a bit from when I first made him. I had a hard time figuring out how to do his hair, but the latest update to the selection of manes Pony Town provides helped immensely. Besides the hair, I enjoyed making his shoes. The rest was pretty easy to figure out.

Of course I had to make a super saiyan Goku! ... This is the only transformation I have for him though. Funnily enough, the hair was much easier to do, and it also uses the hat slot to add onto the hair trick. I did struggle a bit with coloring the hair at first, but making the outline lighter than the hair does a great job at making it glow.

Next we have Yamcha! He was rather straightforward to make, and the most notable things to point out are his clothes and, again, shoes. It's mostly just using the outlines to add more detail, but I like how easy it was to do it.

Puar!!!!! Yeah they revamped the customizable plushies that you can equip and Puar was an obvious choice to do as my first plushie cos.

Launch, but I was inspired to make her whilst watching one of the Harmony Gold movie dubs that had popped up on youtube a while back. You'd think she'd be an easy one to do, but I had a hard time deciding which mane to use and uh those pants were absolutely hard to work with. Other than that, it was an easy enough one to do.

I had a fun time making Korin, and this is one of the very few characters that I've had to use the beard options for. I had used one of the skirt options to make him more round as well. Also, you may have noticed that I've made the outlines a gradient. I've pretty much done this for all of my DB cos', but it's a much more notable feature for Korin compared to the others.

I love Raditz, but hot damn he doesn't translate well into Pony Town. Like the legs and tail are easy enough, but his armor and hair were hell. It's mostly the hair, but I had to use a hat, ear ring, and both front and side horn options to make it work. The armor was easier, but it was a puzzle for sure.

Vegeta was the first DB cos I made. He was easy. Uh, I actually used one of the face patterns to extend his widow's peak, and I also used the grass color to hide one of his hair spikes. There's a reason for that.

Yup. I don't have much to add. He has a horn and antlers now.

One of my favourite cos' I've done, and it's Frieza of all people. His head was a joy to figure out. I used the mask option for the lower half of his face so that I could have his facial markings be present, and I used one of the beards to make that white outline. For his head, I used a top hat to create the outline, and there's a horn I used to add to the shading of his forehead. I'm very proud of how he turned out.

The Namekian frog is my favourite DB character, so I, of course, made a cos of the frog. Okay so I once saw a person who made a frog using a method like the one that I used that I have never seen anyone do ever before or since when I saw them. Like I tried looking up a tutorial for this type of frog head and I couldn't find it, so I feel like it was something that that person had figured out for themselves. Like I've seen people do the headphone eyes thing, but never in combination with the mask for a frog. Other than that, a very easy cos to make.

It's bingus time. Beerus' ears are my favourite thing about this cos. It combines the tall side horns and the big pointed ears to make his iconic big ears. It's difficult to see here, but I had used one of the ponytails to make the ear more round just by a few pixels. For his shawl, I used the cape and the neck tie together to make it.

And that's it for the Dragon Ball Pony Town cos' I have. I might make more in the future, but I can't say for sure.

#Pony Town #Dragon Ball #Goku #Yamcha #Puar #Launch #Korin #Raditz #Vegeta #Frieza #FROG ALERT #Beerus

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adultswim2021 · 9 months

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Delocated #7: “Sick of It!” | March 30, 2009 - 12:15AM | S01E07

The season finale that luckily didn’t turn out to be a series finale. In this episode, Jon is at the park to get custody of David, which is one of Jon’s favorite things to do. David is dropped off by Susan’s bodyguard/boyfriend. David is also wearing a motorcycle helmet. David’s insistence on wearing the helmet around is due to his bodyguard’s influence; he owns a motorcycle and apparently made an off-handed joke about leading your day-to-day life in a helmet that David took a little too much to heart. Jon orders the production to halt so he can father his child privately, and not on camera. When they refuse, Jon flips out. He eventually grabs one of the cameras and takes off with it.

After shaking the show and his family, Jon films himself from the confines of a bush. Eventually he lures a fella named Mark played by Michael Shannon, an actor whose name I knew, but I can’t for the life of me ever recall seeing him in a motion picture. I’ve literally had multiple conversations with people who mentioned his name in some context and I just nodded as if I knew who they were talking about. So that’s who that guy is! He’s great in this! I think I like this guy!

So Mark, played by Michael Shannon from Delocated S01E07, decides to be friends with Jon after Jon beckons him to be in the bush with him. Eventually they hatch a scheme to exchange lives. Mark and Jon exchange clothes (NOTE: the DVD contains the entire take of them changing clothes, but it's sped-up, so you can see exactly how laborious it was to film), and then Mark exits the bush when Jon’s loved ones all come out looking for him. This is the moment the Mirminskis strike, shooting and killing Mark (dressed as Jon).

The episode ends with Jon doing a Tom Sawyer to his own funeral, walking in with the video camera during Susan’s eulogy for him. He shoves the camera in people’s faces and taunts them. He retrieves his ski mask (his face is pixelated out in the actual show) and very nobily oversees a funeral for his once-friend.

This is probably my favorite episode of the season. It relies on the simple premise that Jon is enamored with the idea of being bros with people. The concept of friendship is extremely important to him, because he probably finds himself in need of allies on a constant basis due to his terrible behavior. It’s like a numbers game for him. So he and Mark bond very quickly. Their scenes together are wonderful.

The bit at the end where Jon eulogizes his friend and decides to throw a proper funeral for him using the handful of things he knew about him to give it personal flare (pall bearers on roller blades and the presence of his candy apple red dodge durango) is so fun. The part where Jon rehashes all of his Mark facts to the people attending his own funeral is wonderful.

At the end of the episode, Jon drives away in Mark’s bitchin’ ride, and his bodyguard bolts for him, making it seem like Jon has now successfully fled the program. Will he be back for a second season?? Will it be expanded from 11 minutes to 22?? My friend! Time will tell my friend.

MAIL BAG

It is mail bag my friend. I love you:

Why did you put a picture of Doc Hammer and Jackson Publick above your writeup of some dumb british show I never heard about?

(Joe Biden voice) C'mon man...

Using my napkin math I saw you took 5 tasty tuesdays last month. It was the holidays so sure it's okay to take one more tasty tuesday than usual. However, you have already taken 2 tasty tuesdays in january and we are all 6 days in. And I fear you may take one tonight.

Sometimes I think I need brain medicine (probably, actually) because I lack focus, and part of that includes me losing patience with the concept of burdening myself with a nightly mandate to post. But then I realize that by skipping days and simply not caring makes me one of the only people living on Earth who truly knows freedom. Stay safe, and happy January 6th, my friend.

#adult swim #adultswim2021 #delocated

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enchi-elm · 2 years

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just playing around a bit with hob’s characterization

part 2 // part 3

-------------

Hob doesn’t use social media. He likes to think he missed the boat on that one, before it was a conscious decision to maintain what little internet privacy he has left. He was active on the old Usenet forums, back in the day, staying up into the wee hours plinking away on his keyboard, the CRT monitor glow flickering like brand new starlight as the ASCII pixels dance across the screen. Making connections, the wonder of text appearing out of nowhere.

Hi I’m new here

a/s/l

so rad I just saw that movie last week!

:-)

He gets that giddy feeling he’s carried with him since he was a child that resurfaces every few years when they invent something really cool, and the follow-up urge to share it with someone. Well, not just someone. The only one who’s still around to know why Hob cares so much.

He makes a note in a spiral notebook he keeps on his desk.

The woman next to him at a table in the New Inn in 2022 doesn’t have that look on her face when she picks up her phone at the soft chime. Hob wonders when they lost it (more and more lately he’s been thinking of humanity as a they and wonders when that habit slipped in), the joy in new technology. Sometime in the 80s? Toward the end? Or maybe he’s projecting.

Paper lives on, however, as the stack in front of him proves. He smiles at his poor foresight in 1489. Never be a real demand for it, and it’s hard work... The naivety of a younger man used to soldiering. As if the damned stuff didn’t multiply on his desk overnight. Tests, assignments, permission slips, examinations, memos, newsletters... The pen certainly won out in the end. Speaking of...

Hob puts down his marking pen and flexes his hand. The hours of sword drills he used to suffer through and now he gets a hand cramp after a mere half an hour. He might not be aging but he’s certainly getting older.

Still, the little rascals get so nervous when they don’t get their results back quickly, so he flips the test to a fresh page and starts his column of ticks down the questions. Yes... yes... yes... Not bad, Constance, you’ve gotten better--

The hair stands up on the back of his neck. He might not be aging, but he’s gotten a lot wiser. It lacks the days of anticipation leading up to it, the nervous gut and the hours in front of the mirror, deciding how to present himself but--that subtle shift in the room--

It can’t be.

Time slips away from him like a smooth-worn boot on winter ice, and in the moment of suspension he looks up and sees--

A new coat. A new hairstyle. An ancient face.

I’ll be damned.

It suits him. It suits him well. The pale bastard.

“You’re late,” he says.

“It seems I owe you an apology.” Oh god, his voice. He’d almost forgotten. “I’ve always heard it is impolite to keep one’s friends waiting.”

And with the weight on friends, from a man who’s every movement is deliberate, Hob forgives him. He opens his heart and wedges a stopper under the door before the man has even leaned back in his chair.

-----

continued here

#the sandman #dreamhob #dreamling #long post #my fanfic #Apfelessig #Hob Gadling

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spider-mancan · 2 years

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Hypocritical Error

If one more person tells Tony they don't understand why he's pissed off, he's going to tell another supervillain his address and end it all.

"He's just a kid," Rhodey says, even though he's grimacing as he reads through the paper. "It's okay for him to make big mistakes like this."

"A big mistake?" Tony repeats, aggressively cutting into his extremely delicious breakfast spread that he can't even enjoy. "A big mistake is sleeping through an exam or forgetting a birthday. Big mistakes don't require a press release." Tony would know. He's had a lot of time to perfect his Press Release Smile.

He's aware he's being a little hypocritical here. When he was Peter's age he was in the tabloids more often than he was in his classes. Rhodey, having been there at the time, is more than happy to remind him.

"I just don't get why you're so surprised," Rhodey says, "since he has you as a role model."

Low blow. Tony squints his eyes. "Peter isn't me." Thank god.

Peter also sucked off some corporate suit twice his age in a closet and got caught. At an event that Tony had brought him to. While Tony was chatting up someone he didn't even care about, none the wiser.

The photos are pretty damning. Peter is on his knees, face flushed, mouth spit slick and cherry red even in the grainy phone camera and dim lighting. His tie is undone and his shirt is unbuttoned enough Tony can see bite marks on his chest if he looks hard enough. Peter noticed the camera a second too late -- were his danger senses too distracted by the massive cock, pixelated on the front page, to notice they were being watched? Maybe Peter could tell the smarmy man was dangerous and wanted to fuck him anyway, spidey sense buzzing in his ear. Maybe that was part of the appeal.

Rhodey snaps in front of Tony's face. "Earth to Tony."

"I'm here." Tony snatches the paper off the table and starts crumpling it up. "I'm planning how we're going to fix this."

"Isn't that Pepper's thing?" Rhodey gestures to the paper, now ruined in Tony's shaking hands. "Besides, the article doesn't mention Peter's name, just his age and gender. It's focused on Osborn, and rightly so."

But that's Peter's face. That's Peter on his knees for some old man, right under Tony's nose. When he should have been with Tony.

Not in the closet. Just...at the party in general. He should have been with Tony, not sneaking off to get fucked in the dark by a sleaze like Norman.

Peter in the picture seemed to like it just fine.

And then he'd come back and lied to Tony about it. Tony remembers that faraway look in Peter's eye, remembers asking if anyone had given him a drink while Tony hadn't been around to watch out for him, and Peter had smiled at him so sweetly. "No, Mr. Stark." So sweet, with the same mouth stretched around cock not ten minutes prior. "Just sleepy."

Fucked out and pliant, but Tony had believed him anyway.

"If you can keep his name out of it for a week, it'll blow over and he'll be fine," Rhodey tells him placatingly, like he can sense the steam about to come out of Tony's ears. "And it will blow over. Osborn is hardly the first person to get caught fucking some hot young thing half his age."

Norman is Tony's age. Tony thinks he himself has aged better -- he's certainly got a better reputation. His company is better. Hell, even Tony's sexual reputation is better. Tony has done a lot in a dirty alley but no one ever walked away complaining about his prowess.

Tony doesn't need to be comparing himself to Norman right now. He clears his throat. "I need to talk to Peter."

"Yeah. Make sure he's okay."

"Yeah." Tony runs a tired hand over his face. He's still on his first pot of coffee. "I've already talked to Pepper. She'll...handle it."

"You called Pepper before Peter?" Rhodey asks, surprised.

Tony purses his mouth. "No." Peter just hadn't answered. Tony's stomach soured. "I'll try Peter again later." Peter is probably freaking out. Tony is also freaking out.

The article dropped this morning, but Tony's PR team got wind of it late last night. Someone had emailed him the picture, and Tony had been too weak not to open it. He thought about it for hours. The shape of Peter's mouth, that look on Peter's face, please Mr. Stark.

Tony's hands shake. "It'll be better once everyone forgets this ever happened."

He doesn't think about ruining his sheets like he hasn't since he was a teenager. He doesn't think about the delirium of the morning, forgetting what was true and what was fantasy. The cold shower he thinks about, because he's starting to feel flushed and he needs the reminder.

He takes another long drink of coffee and doesn't think about whether Norman Osborn was Peter's first time doing that. He doesn't think about how many times he's come to find Tony afterwards, tasting like cum, and smiled so sweetly.

He doesn't think about what he's going to say to Peter when Peter finally answers his phone.

#starker #ironspider #part 1 #???#if people like it i might write more idk #IDK HOW TUMBLR WORKS #starker fic

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rhodeys · 4 years

Photo

✨ COLORING GIFS FOR RAINBOW SETS ✨

hello!! so this ask had just been sitting in my inbox for days, and since i finally got some free time (and an incentive) i thought i’d put together a general coloring tutorial - especially for those who are interested in rainbow sets, or just want to get freaky with their gifs, hehe.

photoshop: cc 2021, but tbh this tutorial is compatible with most versions of photoshop for: beginners / anyone with a basic understanding of adjustment layers and brush tool (optional)

the tutorial will show how you can: (1) enhance colors in a neutral/washed out scene (2) change the overall color of a shot (3) make the colors bolder/stronger (4) convert the dominant color to another color

in other words: i rarely save my psds so this is what we’re stuck with

usually, when i’m making a color set, the first thing i do is open the hues/saturation layer and pull the saturation to a 100. this gives me a pretty good idea of the colour palette i can work with. and since this shot is more on the dark side, i brightened the gif a bit, and then moved saturation to a 100. this is what i get:

now that i know the dominant colour is yellow, i can drag the saturation back to 0 and start working on the actual coloring! i go to curves, and brighten the gif a little. most of the time, the white and black points (the first and the third inkdropper) does wonders in color correcting your gif. buut, marking the white point of for this gif would remove what little yellow we have, so i just did a manual adjustment until i was happy with the result.

(since he’s a poc, i used a brush tool at 35% capacity over his face on the curves layer mask. it’s soft, and barely noticeable, but it stopped him from looking lighter, which would become a problem once we move on to the vibrance layers. basically, the lighter the subject, the more susceptible it is to being affected by color enhancing layers.)

next, i go to the yellow hue/saturation option, and increase yellow saturation to 50. i usually don’t do this much, but the yellows are very very light in this scene, so we’re enhancing the colors wherever we can. i also lowered the intensity of the reds using these settings:

the reason i’m reducing red saturation is because - remember the dominant color on his face was red/yellow? - i don’t want my vibrance layers to end up reddening his skin too much. we already tackled a portion of this when we used the brush tool with curves, but this just ensures that the final product doesn’t have his skin looking too yellowy/funny, hehe. this is my gif after the saturation settings:

honestly, the difference is minimal, but now we have an actual color to work with. now it’s just a matter of enhancing that color. at this point, his skin may also look washed out, but the color will return once we get started with the vibrance/color layers.

now, i open the vibrance layer, and - this is always dependent on the gif, btw - drag the sliders around until the colors are bolder. this is my gif now:

the yellows are much more evident now, and there’s a bit more color in his face - so yay! at this stage there’s really no need for selective coloring - so i’ll just add a brightness layer and another vibrance layer:

and voila!! mans lookin good

changing the overall color of the gif is a fairly easy process. i think one thing to look out for is if there are people/a lot of skin that would end up being affected by the coloring – unless there’s minimal movement that you can use a brush tool for.

loki is more or less a silhouette in this shot, and all i’d need to do would be increase the contrast between him and the fog, and slap on a color. this can be done one of three ways: selective coloring, color balance, and gradient map. i’ll be using selective coloring here because i felt that worked best and it’s also an adjustment layer i’m most comfortable with.

enhancing the contrast comes first, and since the brightness/contrast layer didn’t work as well as i’d hoped, i opened up the exposure layer and put in these settings:

and i get this:

now that loki is much more prominent against the fog, we can move on to the coloring. since i want it to be pink, i’m gonna open the neutral selective coloring, and use these settings:

just make sure your selective coloring is on “absolute” because it colors your gif independent of the original gif and makes your colors more strong, whereas ‘relative’ colors your gif relative to the original gif – which doesn’t work all that well for color sets. (read: makes it look ugly)

i got the color, but methinks its still a little too dull, so i’ll add a brightness/contrast layer to make the color pop

and done!!

animation gifs are much more easier to color because the colours are easily isolated, which is just chefs kiss when you use selective coloring. for this one, i just want to enhance the blues / reds, and remove the magenta tone so that the colours are more vivid. first, i increase the contrast:

it’s sharpened the colors a bit, and reduced the dullness:

now, because i want to enhance the blues/reds, and reduce the magenta, i’m going to use these settings in my selective coloring layer:

i didn’t want to make the red too bright, since red has an annoying tendency to pixelate, and lowered the magentas just enough so that the three of them still have a bit of color on their face. now the blues:

now that that’s done, all we need is to brighten up the gif. i’ll use curves for this:

i selected my white point (the white inkdropper) from the white part on baymax’s face (which i just realized makes no sense bc his entire face is white) which immediately brightened up the gif and erased the excess magenta.

if you want, you could still make it brighter by selecting your white point a little towards the shadows in baymax’s face - but methinks this gif looks fine by itself ehehe

this one will be fairly easy - especially for a shot like this where it’s just blues and black - and will only require selective color and some brightness layers. so, i want to make this a violet gif. the very first thing i’ll do is open up selective coloring and enhance the blues:

idk if this is a thing others do djsajskl i feel like they do, but i do this because i’ve always found it easier to do color convert when the colors are enhanced - so, the more enhanced my blues are, the easier it is to convert to violet. this is what i have now:

now it’s time for violet!!! yee!!!

i increased the magenta in the whites because the highlights in the cloud were looking VERY white, and would end up looking very weird once i increased brightness. so this is just for…. consistency

now we can get on with brightening!! i open up the brightness/contrast layer and use these settings:

and another curves layer, where i’ve intense-ified the dark parts (the grey slider is at input: 27) and lightened the rest (the white slider is at input: 220)

(i just feel like it makes the coloring look crispy)

and tada!!!

i hope this helped! i’m still in the learning process when it comes to coloring, but if you have any questions/clarifications, please don’t hesitate to reach out!

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gucciwins · 3 years

Text

The First Kiss

Harry and Y/N go on their first date...will they finally become something more?

Word count: 4814

A/N: I know how much you all love breakout room and the follow up it's your birthday. I love writing them and it's been a while but do know they are doing well. this is nothing but sweet fluff. I do mention the vaccine and wearing masks which I hope you all are doing. it's important to stay safe and truly wish nothing but the best for you all. I love you xxx

please reblog and let me know your thoughts

_____

“Are you feeling good? I sent over a goodie basket.”

Harry giggled, loving how concerned you were. “I’m doing good, baby.” He sees you tuck your head into your sweater smiling, when he notices it’s the one he sent you in a goodie basket after you got your second shot of the vaccine.

It’s spring break, and Harry can finally say he is officially vaccinated after letting the mandated two weeks pass. It’s perfect timing, honestly, as he has been itching to finally see you in person again.

Your university let you know that they would begin to have vaccine dates open to students through an email that you quickly forwarded to Harry. You had to register to get a date for your first vaccine, and slots were filling up fast. You shot Harry multiple texts telling him what day you got and time, but you went without an answer for an hour which is weird, seeing as Harry never liked to leave you waiting more than five minutes.

By the time he got back to you, he had to wait two weeks, unlike you, who would be getting in only three days. You asked why he didn’t answer, and he said he was in class. You frowned because even then, he always answered. He then confessed he lost his phone in his apartment and didn’t have time to search for it.

You laughed about it, but he was disappointed because he wanted to see you. To give you a hug. To hold your hand.

After spending his birthday together, you both decided against meeting in person for safety even though you both wanted to, more than anything. You postponed your date to the future. Instead, you completed the group assignment through zoom meetings that led to facetime calls. After submitting the project and learning that you aced the assignment, well, you both caved in.

Harry gushed on how he always got B’s on the professor’s assignments, and to celebrate, he sent you a dozen cupcakes from the bakery that you never stop raving about located only three blocks from where you live. Then proceeded to call him over to celebrate and who was he to say no. Harry was shocked at how rich and full of flavor they were because he wasn’t aware it was vegan. Yet, it tasted better than anything he ever had. Harry realized why it was your favorite, promising to take you there in person to have your pick of favorites and not only red velvet and carrot cake because they were safe choices.

You couldn’t say you’ve been on a proper date with Harry, but you’d like to count all the zoom calls and facetime calls as dates not that you let Harry know it would only inflate his ego. You’d start a call to ask a question on assignments, and it would lead to sharing stories back and forth of what their favorite book was to where they would visit if they could go that very second. You loved how insightful he was, also liked how he used pastel highlighters to mark his annotations. Harry was a fan of how you always had a pencil in your hair or behind your ear. How you always had a snack on hand because you didn’t want to listen to professors without something to eat or you’d lose focus.

You were glad you’d be able to get together safely but also taking all the needed precautions. Safety is hot, as Harry liked to say all the time when you sent him photos of you wearing your masks.

“Yeah, like the basket?”

Harry grins, but it’s not as bright due to the lacking pixels of your laptop. He holds it up, having placed it in his lap. “I did love the bath bombs.”

You smile back at him, “Going to change your life. Self-care is important, bub. Even in the smallest ways as a bath.”

Harry nods, “I know, baby. The reason I remember to take deep breaths each morning, no longer eager to reach for my phone.”

“Proud of you.”

“And I of you, baby.”

Harry shines his dimples at you when you turn your head away at the sweet name he started calling you a few weeks ago. You adored it, honestly, but it always left you feeling flustered.

“H, please.”

“Baby, I like seeing you flustered.”

“You’re a menace.”

He shrugs, still giggling.

“How are Mitch and Sarah?”

“Wonderful, sickly in love as always. Spend their time at Sarah’s like composing together.”

“That’s sweet.” You lean in, smiling at him, “you know we should all hang out together. I get to meet Mitch properly and see Sarah again, and you’ll get to meet Amy.” You grow excited at the thought.

“Not before I get to see you.”

“H, we got to coordinate a day that works for all of us. No need to get jealous.”

“Not jealous.”

“Sure,” you reply sarcastically.

“Got to learn to share me with Amy. I cook her lunch and dinner; otherwise, she’d be nothing but a walking cadaver.”

“I want you to make me lunch and dinner,” he pouts.

“I can now that you’ve vaxxed.”

“That I am, so you are.”

“Yes,” you’re waiting for him to go on.

“Will you go on a date with me? Think we waited long enough, and if my feelings weren’t obvious enough, I like you and really want to take you out.” he rambles on.

You interrupt him knowing fully well he could go on for days, “I’d love to, Harry.”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Yes, Harry.”

“Great. Friday then.”

“I’m free.”

“I know, know your schedule by heart.”

“Creep,” you gasp at the news.

“Shush, like you don’t have my classes added to your planner.” Your turn to pout.

“I like knowing your schedule, and they overlap.”

“I do too. Look forward to your messages every day between classes.”

“So Friday? What are you planning?”

“A picnic.”

You jump up in excitement, causing your laptop to fall back on your bed before you dive to save it. Harry yelling dramatically in the background as if you just dropped him.

“H, be quiet. You’re fine.”

“Dropped me, darling.”

“Dork.”

He mutters something in return, but you can’t hear him.

“So I’ll prepare lunch because you’ve told me once or twice that you’re hopeless in the kitchen.” Harry doesn’t even try to fight you because it’s true. “You’ll take care of drinks and desserts.”

“Seems like you’re planning the date,” he teases.

“I like picnics.”

“Well, I like you, so I’ll let you take over.”

Your smile turns soft, reaching your hand out as if you could reach in and caress him. “I like you, too. I can’t wait to give you a hug.”

“Counting down the hours.”

“Alright, you have class in ten, and you always struggle to log in.”

“Making me hang up. Not fair.” Harry frowns, debating skipping class for you.

“Don’t think about it, Styles.”

“Fine. Take care, baby.”

“Bye, H.”

A date.

You have a date with Harry.

Finally, it happened.

_____

You were nervous.

Why were you nervous? It was just Harry.

Harry, who wanted to date you from your first meeting, who emailed you asking you out, and who has not stopped talking to you since February. Constantly reminding you of his feelings for you. You hope he knew you felt the same, in texts and sending him little gifts even as small as writing him a letter.

You got up early today to prepare lunch. You decided on sandwiches, a non-messy meal, and Harry always said he wanted to try the bakery bread you use and not the basic store-bought. It was a bit pricey but not as much anymore because you had become a regular, meaning the sweet owner began giving you a discount, especially when finding out you're a student. Still, you always remember to leave a good tip. The turkey sandwiches were finished with cheese, lettuce, and tomatoes. Looked so good that Amy had one as you were making them. You made three and packed them up in your glass reusable containers.

Staring at the sandwiches, it felt like too little food when Harry had told you many times how much he enjoys eating, so you cleaned up and got to make a second meal. You decided on vegetable rice paper rolls. A favorite and easy meal to make that you enjoyed eating. It was packed with lettuce, avocado, cabbage, bell peppers, cucumbers, noodles, and fresh herbs. This was a meal your dad made you all the time as a child with the special slightly spicy peanut sauce that you could drizzle on top.

Harry was going to enjoy this, so you hoped. He promised to make strawberry lemonade. Assured you that it would not be store-bought, and you believed him. During one of your late conversations, he shared how his sister would make him some when she returned from uni. Reminds him of home, he would say.

After packing everything away in the fridge to keep it cool it was time to get ready. You stood in front of your closet for a good five minutes before you began to swipe through the hangers. You knew you wanted to wear a dress; it was warm weather and would only get hotter as the day went on.

You searched your entire closet, there were three options once you had decided on, but you called Amy in to make the final decison for you. She decided on the one sitting in the middle of your bed, which was exactly what you were thinking.

The dress was a white button-front high slit that fit you nicely. You hadn't used it in quite some time, seeing as when you left your apartment, it would be in leggings, sweats, and the first sweater you could slip on.

You couldn't stop looking in the mirror, loving how it flowed around you when you twirled. For accessories, you slipped on a gold ring that had a little heart on it and another that was a gift shaped like a small snake as it was going to scale down your finger. A simple heart locket gifted to you by your grandparents hung right above your cleavage. You decided to leave your hair natural, liking how it air-dried after the shower you had that morning.

There was no makeup on your face, just your favorite rosebud salve lip balm that left your lips soft. Amy insisted you put some on, but you stood firm in your decision, knowing you'd be wearing a mask and didn't want anything smudging.

You looked down at the time on your phone and knew it was time to head down, Harry said twelve, and you didn't want to make him come up to your apartment only to walk down the three levels again. You grabbed the picnic basket that was sitting in the back of yours and Amy's shared doorway closet and made sure to place everything neatly, leaving room for Harry's drink and stashing a bunch of napkins in for any accidents. Basket prepared, you slipped your sunglasses in your hair, placing your lavender tote bag with tiny embroidered daisies on your shoulder that contained sunscreen, your wallet, extra face masks, and a book Harry had told he had wanted to read.

Before opening your door, you put on the white mask that you embroidered sunflowers on. It was one of your favorites, and glad it complimented your look well. You walked down the stairs slowly, not wanting to drop the basket.

You walk out the front door and find Harry getting out of the yellow mask on his face. As you get closer, you can see it's the one you made him. It has bees on it, and embroidered on the left side is 'my honey.' Harry had turned quite pink when he opened the gift he got in the mail over facetime with her. You happily screenshot his reaction, happy to have it to look back on.

As soon as you reach him, it's as if all the nerves you had disappeared. Calm washes over you as he comes to stand in front of you. You can't see the smile he has, but the crinkles by his eyes prove he's just as happy to see you.

"Hi, Harry," you say, your eyes taking him all in.

Harry doesn't hide, he's checking you out, and you're thankful for the mask at the moment, able to hide how bashful you're feeling. "Hello, baby. You look gorgeous. I'm a lucky man."

"Yeah," you swayed side to side, "gave me a reason to dress up."

"Always beautiful, but I'm so glad to see more than just your shoulders." He laughs, and you join him.

"Look pretty, H. I had not seen this cardigan." You reach out, running a finger down over the pastel yellow cardigan that looks to be well-loved. He paired it with a plain white shirt that fits him loosely with Gucci denim trousers that he told you he found a few years ago when he was thrift shopping in London with his mother.

"No, brought it out just for you. Wanted it to match my favorite mask." Although he couldn't see it, you hoped your eyes were doing their job expressing your joy. "Let's put this basket in the trunk. Got a blanket and a few pillows as well as the lemonade."

"And the dessert?"

He chuckles, "and the dessert."

You place everything in the trunk, taking a step back for Harry to close it. He walks you over to your door, opening it for you, you offer a soft thank you, but before you get in, you turn to look at him.

"What is it, baby?"

You stare down at your ribbon-tied wedges before looking up into his piercing green eyes. "Can I have a hug? I just--I'm really happy to see you."

Harry falters for a second before answering, "of course, come here." He's quick to bring you in for a hug, and it feels like home. It's comfortable, and you can't believe you haven't hugged him since February, a good two months ago, when it has honestly felt like a lifetime. "I would have earlier, but when you came out, you truly shocked me with how amazing you looked."

You just hug him tighter, enjoying feeling his strong arms around you. He looks at you smiling. "That was nice." You nod because it was, and if he'd let you, you'd stay in his arms all day.

"Well, shall we go?"

"We shall."

And with that, you were off to your first date with Harry, which would hopefully lead to more.

_____

The drive to the park was short; you unloaded everything from the car once you got there. Harry offers to carry the basket, letting you lead to picking the spot. You walked ahead, glad he brought you to a park you recognized; it's one you liked to walk around during finals week when you were drowning in essays and exams. This was a nice break. On the other side of the park is a lake where you can rent pedal boats, but you were sure they hadn't opened up for business just yet, wanting more of the population to be vaccinated.

You led him to a secluded area laughing when he joked if you were leading him to his murder. Once you reached the clearing, one large tree with lots of shade and a few rose bushes surrounded it.

"It's beautiful here." Harry awed in amazement.

"Yeah, I found it my first year when I was trying to destress; I don't think many people know about it because it's not on the maps."

"Lucky us."

Harry grabs one end of the blanket, helping you spread it on the grass. You set your tote bag on one corner as well as setting down the pillows. As you make your way to sit down, Harry gently grabs your elbow, causing you to turn and look at him; he's holding a bouquet of tulips.

You felt your eyes well up with tears, not used to such a kind gesture; it's been a long time since you've been on a date with someone you really care about, "You got me tulips, H."

You reach forward and cradle them in your arms. "Course I did; I think you deserve all the beautiful things life has to offer."

You set the flowers on top of the basket before straightening up and pulling Harry into a hug. Your arms around his neck, his resting tightly around your waist, "including you," you whisper in his ear, causing him to squeeze you a bit tighter. Harry pulls back, leaving a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Let's eat, baby. Know you made something delicious for us to enjoy."

Harry set the food out, and you are sure to hand him the wet wipes to clean your hand before you could begin wanting to be clean and not wanting to venture out to find a restroom. He eyed the sandwiches first, then the veggie rice paper rolls.

"Couldn't decide?"

"Wasn't sure what you'd like. So I gave you two options."

"Too sweet angel." Harry leans in to kiss her cheek.

"Think we ought to take off the mask now." You giggle, sad you didn't get to feel his lips on your cheek.

"Yeah, so comfortable it doesn't really bother me wearing them. I am hungry."

You place your mask in your bag, and Harry puts his mask in his pocket. He opens up both containers and digs into the veggie rolls first. He hums after the first bite, chewing happily. "Delicious," he mutters between chews.

"Can add this peanut sauce to give it more flavor, just a tad bit spicy." He watches you as you pick up and spoon drizzle a bit on top, taking a bite. Harry follows your steps taking another bite, and his eyes go wide at the added flavor.

"Shocked, I've lived all my life without this food."

You laugh, "well, now you don't have to."

He chews happily at your response.

_____

Lunch is filled with little conversation, both praising each other for a well-planned meal. The strawberry lemonade complimenting the food perfectly. He brought a raspberry lemon loaf cake for dessert, and you happily admit you ate two pieces. It tasted so heavily, making Harry promise you to buy more in the future for you. He agreed, stating he'd do anything to make you happy.

"It's nice going out with someone, enjoying the sweet fresh air." Harry comments.

You hum in agreement, "I adore my alone time, but with the right company, it can feel just as perfect."

Harry's cheek turns rosy pink quickly, not at all trying to hide from you. You love that he loves to show how much you affect him.

"It feels normal like we've done this hundred of times already.”

You chuckle, nudging his shoulder. "It's cause we have. Just never called any of them dates."

"So you agree, we've been dating since February," he teases.

"Yeah, I think we can say that."

"When was our first zoom call?"

"Hmm...after class a week after your birthday. Think we worked for an hour and talked about nothing for another."

You look over at Harry loving how the sun reflects off his skin; it makes him look like a gift from the Gods. Harry feels your gaze on him, flashing you a big grin, his dimples on display just for you, because of you.

"We will call February eighth our anniversary," he declares.

You laugh, not a silent one but a full-out belly gripping laugh; you can feel the tears welling up in your eyes. Harry sits there confused, not sure where the joke was.

"You alright, baby?" He asks, just a bit concerned.

"That is what you were thinking so hard about; you couldn't figure out a week from your birthday quickly. Took you a good few minutes." You shake your head, trying to catch your breath, tiny giggles still escaping you.

"Oi, no need to be rude."

"Sorry, honey."

"Never claimed to be smart."

"The pretty ones never are," you tease.

"Alright, that's it. I've had enough."

Before you can stop him, he's on top of you, his fingers tickling you from your sides to your thighs. He knows your body getting all your secret spots that make you squirm away from. You almost succeeded in getting one of his hands over your head, but he surprises you by straddling you. You've stopped laughing, but Harry keeps going.

His curls are falling over his head, his eyes shining bright, a new lightness to them. At that moment, you realize how lucky you are, and before you know it, you reach your free hand up and place it on the back of his neck, bringing him down to your lips catching him by surprise.

Harry stays frozen for a second before sinking into the kiss, responding softly, wanting to explore you as he'd been thinking about this moment for months. You love the feel of his lips against yours; you'd happily give up breathing, never wanting to part. Harry tries to pull away, but you chase his mouth, not ready to stop kissing. He smiles against your lips, humming when he places a hand on your cheek, adding more pressure; you're not sure who lets out a moan letting it out into the universe wishing for more, hoping for forever.

You don't get butterflies or fireworks. Instead, you feel the ease of calmness wash over you like when you arrive home after a long day. That's what kissing Harry is like coming home.

You pull back, laying your head on the pillow Harry was wise to bring; you don't try to contain your smile as Harry stares down at you in a look of awe. You run your thumb over his bottom lip-loving how swollen they look thanks to you. His eyes never leave yours; you gasp as he places a kiss on your thumb before taking it in his mouth, sucking it gently; a moan escapes you, surprised at how hot the teasing is getting you.

"You're filthy, honey."

Harry smirks, "just for you, baby."

"Only our first date, H. We aren't going to move fast."

"A makeout isn't too fast for you," he teases.

"Felt just right." You smile, loving the feeling of his weight on top of you as he has not moved from his position, still straddling you.

"I agree."

"Sorry, I didn't ask if I could kiss you. Consent is sexy."

Harry's smile is soft, his eyes flicker to your lips, then back to your eyes, "You hereby have permission to kiss me whenever you please, my love."

"You know all the right things to say to make me puny for you."

"Good to know. Got to keep a mental list."

"What's on there so far?"

Harry smirks, leaning down his mouth right over your mouth; you remember the taste of lemon you felt when you kissed him, and well, you don't try to stop yourself when you attach your lips against his. There's no sweeter feeling, you've decided.

He pulls back, keeping the kiss short, "Know you can't be close to me without giving me a kiss. Know your heart is racing like it might beat out of your chest, and I know you're dying to ask me to be your boyfriend."

"Guess you are smart," you whisper.

He chuckles, nudging his nose against yours, humming as he places a kiss on the top of your nose.

"You know, I was right."

"Yeah, about what, H?" You reach your hand up to run your hand through his curls, brushing them back, giggling as they fall forward again.

"That your laugh sounds better in person. Know it's cheesy but truly music to my ears."

"You nutter!"

"Oi, picking up my slang, are you?"

"Got to, especially when you called that Evan kid a wanker for dismissing my response." You snicker, remembering the moment a few classes ago when you spoke up to give your opinion only for Evan trying to mansplain how women in politics were growing already especially having a female-run as a candidate a few years back. You would have cussed him out, but Harry did it for you. He packed up all your points with his own references. Safe to say, Evan has not spoken up since then.

"Cause he is one. You're the smartest person in the class, and that tosser should not even be in this class. Clearly, hasn't learned one bit since January."

"Settle down, honey. All in the past." You pat his chest a few times, getting his focus back on you. "Got that book you've wanted to read, want to give it a read now?"

"Course, baby. Happy you had it in your collection." He's gotten back into reading now that he seemed to have more time on his hands, and they had been bouncing recommendations off of each other. You had told him to stay off Book Tok because it was the same ten books being promoted by every page. His sister told him to read The Silent Patient, but he couldn't rationalize spending fifteen dollars, and he couldn't find the free pdf. He asked you and told him Amy bought it for you as a gift for feeding her.

"Let me get it out of my bag; you can lay in my lap easier to listen to."

Harry's eyes go wide; you're going to read him. He did not expect that, but he had to make sure. "Going to read to me, darling?"

"If you don't mind." you tuck your hand into your tote bag again, "brought my kindle in case you didn't want to. Won't be sad if you don't want to."

"No, I want you to. Yeah, more than anything. Got the prettiest voice." Harry pecks your lips, pulling back giddy because that's the first time he's kissed you, and well, he has to do it again. Your lips move in sync, the kisses feeling smoother but just as passionate. You break the kiss, playfully push him away, hands-off, letting you adjust yourself before he sets one of the smaller pillows in your lap and lays his head. Your hand is quick to find a place in his hair, thankful you've mastered the one hand reading and page-flipping due to always having a book in your hand growing up.

_____

After reading for a bit, Harry lifts his head from your lap, taking the time to admire you. You kept reading, letting him take you in from this new angle. You stopped brushing his hair instead, allowing yourself to get immersed in the book once again. You giggled, thinking back at Harry's reaction to the opening line of chapter one.

You had just flipped to a new page, ready to start chapter seven, when you saw how fidgety Harry had gotten. He clearly had something on his mind, so you wanted to give him his space; you had only read five words when he spoke, interrupting you.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" Harry blurts, shifting to sit in front of you.

You don't smile, but you know he can see the gleam in your eyes at his words, "Hmmm...will you give me a cute nickname?"

Harry doesn't know what you're doing but goes along with it. "Already do, so yes."

"Will you let me make you more masks?"

"Yes."

"Will you knit me a sweater?"

"I'll knit you hundreds."

You nod, "then yes, I'll be your girlfriend."

"Yeah, you want me to be your boyfriend," Harry teases.

"Dork," you shove his shoulder, causing him to fall back. He gasps in shock.

You laugh, and it's music to his ears; his dramatic response is swallowed as he takes you in. Harry isn't sure where he'd be without you. He takes in the happiness displayed on your face and knows if you could look in a mirror, he'd look just as happy if not more. You are a light in his life.

These last few months have changed everything about him. Harry hadn't really understood what it meant when people said that your partner should also be your best friend. He thought it was cheesy and something to give false hope to others, but with you, he knew it was true.

Starting off as friends built a strong foundation for you both to grow together, and he is forever thankful you took a chance on him.

Harry called it fate, but you well, you think it was all thanks to the zoom gods who set you up in a random break out room not once but twice.

_____

thank you for reading :) I adore you xx

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aresrambles · 3 years

Text

Are You Bored? [Pt. 2]

shigaraki tomura x f!reader - explicit nsfw, strictly 18+, villain!reader, degradation, phone sex, mutual masturbation (1091 words)

a/n: ok so a few ppl requested pt. 2 so i gave it a shot! i’m not sure if i took this in the right direction but hopefully it’s ok. obviously a lot more steamy from where we left off. please enjoy!

click this for part one

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

”What is it?”

Shigaraki’s grumbling through Discord, something about how it’s late at night and you’re disturbing some important planning of his. You pretend to have not seen the ‘Playing: Minecraft’ update on his profile and promptly apologise before mustering the courage to speak up to your so-called superior.

“Well, y’see Boss, I think you might have something that belongs to me.”

Well, fuck. So she had the brains to notice her bra’s missing. Honestly, you can’t even blame Shigaraki for what he did. Infact, what kind of fucking slut leaves her undergarments just laying around for anyone to see? You were practically begging for him to steal them, especially with the way your eyes not-so-subtly washed over them with sheer panic. If you asked him, he was doing you a favour: one less uncomfortable contraption to hide those beautiful tits away from him.

“Boss?”

Shigaraki pauses for a moment before slumping down on his desk and groaning into the mic. He decides it wouldn’t hurt to fuck with you for a little bit. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” he lies, eyeing the pretty black number thrown onto his bed. Just looking at it was beginning to give him a semi.

“No, I think- I think you do. I had, uh, an item of clothing on my floor. Maybe you accidentally picked it up or moved it aside?”

You wait anxiously for Shigaraki’s response. He’s always been calculated and cool around you, not really speaking more than he has to. It makes you reflect on whether he even has any real personality at all, behind that huge goal of destroying hero society and playing a shitty game now and then? Your waiting is not prolonged however as you hear him shifting around in his chair before continuing.

“You called me for this? To throw some baseless accusation around ‘cause you lost some panties?” You can practically hear his shit-eating grin and cant help but feel a insulted pang in your chest. Why won’t he just own up to it?

“Boss, c’mon. I know it was you- can I just have it back?”

Shigaraki pretends to mull it over before something flashes up on his screen, stopping him in his tracks. He almost can’t believe his eyes until he hears your soft voice in his ears again. “I… You’re putting me in a difficult position without it.”

As soon as his eyes roll over the promiscuous pixels on his screen, Shigaraki’s palm shoots to rub over his clothed dick. It seems this said ‘position’ was nothing short of you splayed out in a chair, alone and topless, body dimly illuminated by cool blue lights. Shigaraki assumes it’s coming from the monitor in front of you. Taking a deep breath, you turn on your video camera and angle it so he can see, well, everything.

And boy, if he was struggling before, it was no comparison to the pathetic state he was in now. Your bashful expression only turned him on more, as you shoot a pleading look his way. “Instead of that flimsy thing,” You take a second to drag a finger down from your neck to waist, “Wouldn’t you rather have this instead?”

Truly, you do want that bra back. It was expensive and you know damn well the bastard won’t reimburse you for it, but the need to act like a cockwhore had been on your mind ever since he fucked off from your place. Ever since you had kissed, the scene has been on your mind replaying over and over.

“What are you doing?” Shigaraki pants out inbetween breaths, scrambling to free his cock from his pants that feel far tighter than a few seconds prior. “Just-just what the fuck are you doing?”

You don’t think you could answer that even if you tried, instead taking those same fingers and sticking them in your mouth. Shigaraki groans before you once more begin to hear shuffling on the other end.

“I- I’m not showing you my face.” He mumbles before your screen lights up with the sight of him adjusting his camera to face his crotch. You don’t fail to catch the light blush that was caught on Shigaraki’s nose and cheeks before you’re faced with a much lewder sight. His cock, red-tipped and leaking, cast a brighter glow across your features. You watch him begin to give himself languid, firm strokes as you almost salivate in awe.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” You murmur, not realizing you’ve taken your fingers out of your mouth and are speaking loud enough for the mic to pick it up. Shigaraki only whimpers in response as he looks at the soft curves and edges of your body. This is so much better than anything he could have ever imagined. The way you were just presenting yourself to him like some desperate bitch in heat was like a straight-up snippet from his wildest dreams. What he would do to be able to touch you right now, to drag his nails across your supple skin and mark it up real good. Instead, he reminds himself to grab ahold of the current victory and pay attention to you in the moment. It’s not everyday he gets a bitch willing to put on a live show.

“Touch yourself,” Shigaraki breathes out, ‘and- and say my name, say Tomura when you do it.” The gentle commands make your gut clench as you take off your jeans and begun to rub your clit through your panties. The wet stain makes Shiggy’s hips buckle and he stops stroking himself, just for a couple of seconds, to regain his composure.

“Can I put my fingers inside?” You question quietly, shyly peering at the camera. Shigaraki nods his head vigorously before realizing you can’t see him, and instead settles on grunting in approval. You let out an almost comically lewd moan at the feeling of your fingers entering you, slowly pumping in and out.

“Tomura, m’feels good. Want your fingers inside me-“

Watching you squirm and mewl as you fingered your soaking pussy was doing things to Shigaraki, things that were making him wander dangerously close to mistaking the line between lust and love. Because Shigaraki truly believed he loved you in this moment. Watching you be so vulnerable, so beautiful, all for him… He had to lay his claim on you. If he didn’t, he thinks it’d kill him.

“Just like that, keep going.” he cooes.

For once, you don’t look bored.

#shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki mha #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #mha #bnha #boku no hero academia shigaraki #shigaraki imagine #drabble #yandere shigaraki #shigaraki thirst #ares rambles

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lustbile · 3 years

Note

Omg blurb requests yay! Could you write a smut blurb where the member just wants to suck on your boobs? Like, they just wanna relax by sucking on your boobs and just snuggling up against them and leaving hickeys and bite marks all over your neck and chest rnjemskskms. Thanks<~~ (i want it with Jisung but ik that some blogs are uncomfortable with writing smut for Jisung, so if you’re also uncomfortable with it then just write it with Ten or Mark 💓)

unfortunately I am one of the accounts that isn’t comfortable writing for jisung. maybe one day in the far far future but for now no and I’m sorry! but since I have a very nipple play centric thing with ten already let’s go with mark!

In the bottom drawer, shoved to the left. Exactly where his burgundy button up should have been ever since you got him into the habit of color coding his clothes when putting them away.

And Mark was amazing at organizing them! Taking the time to consider them intensely before putting them away even though you laugh at him every time and tell him you never intended for it to be that serious. But it is that serious, and always correct, so why isn’t his shirt there now?

He huffs quietly to himself, accepting the defeat in the form of a drawer that was one shirt hollow, before he slowly stands and starts to drag his body down the hall of your shared apartment and towards the living room.

His chest feels a little lighter when he sees you there. Your body lax and limbs scattered as you lay on the couch staring at the dancing pixels of the television.

You were so pretty to his suddenly swelling heart, your face clean, your muscles loose, your fingers tapping gently against the fabric of the couch, and your body beautifully decorated with his nice burgundy shirt.

“Man I should have known,” he huffs playfully, dropping his body on the space of the couch right below your stretched out legs.

You let out a curious grunt, your eyes still glued to the drama of some reality show Mark had never seen as you shift your body down until the soles of your feet press to his thigh and his hand circles your ankle.

“I was looking everywhere for this shirt. I could have sworn it was in my drawer, but still I checked my dirty clothes, the bathroom, everywhere. But would you look at that,” he pauses dramatically as he gently slaps the flesh of your exposed thigh.

“Is it the one I’m wearing right now?” You ask with an air of shame, your face finally turning towards him as you pull at the collar.

“Yes, my love,” he laughs quietly in a relieved kind of way, happy and entertained that you finally caught up.

“Ah shit,” you mutter, moving to sit up, “I just grabbed one I’m sorry I should have asked. Do you want it back?”

“I would like it back,” he nods, moving closer, “How long have you been wearing it?”

“All day,” you pout, “but unless you need it urgently, I have laundry going right now and can throw it in the wash when those are done?”

“That’ll work,” he nods, pushing slightly against your chest until you’re laid flat again, and he crawls towards you until his head is resting on your chest, “what are you even watching though?”

“I have no idea,” you reply, getting comfortable under his weight as you push your fingers into his hair, “some trash show.”

You only get a hum in response, as he lets his body melt and his eyes wander. His ear is pressed tightly to your shoulder, giving him a perfect view of your collarbones and the dip of your sternum under the stiff fabric.

He doesn’t know for sure how long it’s been since you started the laundry, but he knows it wasn’t running before he left to go search for the shirt, so that tells him it couldn’t have been going for long. He wouldn’t want to distract you from your chores, but since it seemed like you had a hefty amount of time for a break…

He has little interest in being discreet, the arm that’s not trapped under his weight lifts gently, before he moves to push his fingers below the collar until they brush against your sternum and neck.

You shiver, his soft touch being more ticklish than he anticipated, but he doesn’t regret it as it makes you body shift and exposes more of your neck.

“Just taking my shit without asking,” he scolds you with zero malice in his tone, “what am I going to do with you.”

The fingers you have wrapped in his hair tighten, anticipating the moves that will follow his words.

The anticipation doesn’t last long before he pops the first bottom, and the next, and the next.

You’re grateful for a lot of things. The very few buttons you clasped when putting on the shirt, the fact that you didn’t bother with wearing anything but a pair of thin shorts along with it, and mostly, the way his tongue feels when it dips between your collarbones.

“Mark,” you whine his name as he drags his tongue across the center of your chest, his blunt nails scraping at the side of your neck.

He shushes you quickly, “watch you show,” he whispers, the syllables becoming muffled against your skin.

He’s a fool, you think. A very aware fool, because there’s no way he genuinely believes you can sit and watch the airheads that dance around with bad decisions on the screen. Especially when he starts to move across where your chest swells, his mouth opening to deliver heated kisses and the occasional deep bites.

You’re partially aware that you start to guide him. Your fingers still wound tight in his locks, tight enough that when you tug he lets out a lovely whine.

He knows where you want him, and admittedly he wants to be there too, but he takes a moment. He resists the strength of your hand, ducking down below your chest to get to your rib cage. He bites harshly, harsher than any of the other biting he gave on his journey to the thin, sensitive skin he holds between his teeth now.

You yelp, your chest jerking higher in the air as he sucks the flesh into his mouth, rolling his tongue over the irritated skin. He goes until you both know how intense of a mark he had left on you, and after one last bite, he moves up with a gasp to give much similar treatment to your neglected nipple.

You hum in relief, your hips tilting into the air as you feel something familiar pool in your belly. Your thighs tremble, and when you squeak in slight pain, he laughs against your skin.

His hand moves up your neck, brushing under your jaw and across your cheek, and when his fingers push against your slightly open mouth, you welcome them happily.

He moves them deep enough into you mouth that they make you gag slightly, the vulgar noise exciting him in a way that he didn’t express visually or audibly, but you knew had him dancing in his mind.

He pushed against your tongue, coating his fingers in your spit as he all but fucked into your mouth with the digits. And it wasn’t until he could see the singular tear roll down the side of your face in his peripherals, did he finally pull his fingers out.

He knocks the small amount of fabric that still covered you out of his way before brushing his fingers over and around the nipple that wasn’t latched in his mouth.

He coats your skin in your own saliva, letting the cool air of the room cause the skin to perk and pebble. And once he’s satisfied, he pinches the skin tightly between his fingers, and tugs roughly.

It’s’ between the whining moans and gasps from your chest that you hear it, or stop hearing it rather. The washing machine in the next room slows its shaking and comes to an end, and without thinking you quietly gasp out words to acknowledge this.

Mark leans up and away to your disappointment, turning his head to listen for the appliance even though he trusts you to know that its cycle is done.

“Hmm,” he hums as he thinks, looking down at the shirt you still wear, but is wrinkled and spread out around you, “well right now all it has is a little spit, might as well dirty it more before we wash it.”

#under a cut because it’s 1k words again #I will never learn #mark smut #nct smut #ask

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spiltscribbles · 3 years

Note

Prompt: Pro Athlete Sirius because that my and Remus' kink

~Notes: OMFG VICTOrIA!!!! I FUCKING SCREECHED!!!! lkadfjlaksdgjoiaejfalskdgjioeugisfkldshg Yes tis my kink as well!!! And then I saw this from Nonny and worlds collided and BOOM! I hope you like this my love<3<3 You incredibly talented sugarplum!!! TBH I want to write a thousand more things in this AU XD

FROM THIS LIST | Send Me A Prompt!💜 | A REBLOG MEANS THE GALAXY!!💜

When Remus was young— surrounded by the light breeze of the Welsh coast and the harmony of birds chirping in the distance— he would follow his mother to their small garden behind their cottage at the cusp of twilight as his father cooked their supper, and he’d watch as she laid flat all sorts of newspapers written in French and Arabic and English, watch as she brought her red pen against the ink and marked the articles with underlines and shorthand he wouldn’t understand for years still.

He asked her once, when he was barely eight years old, why she bothered to keep up with so many different publications, why she read the same story penned by countless perspectives when all the facts stayed the same at the end of the day. And he remembers how she had let out a quick, shrill of a laugh, tossing back her golden head while sucking in a puff from the bubbling hookah she had set up besides her— a habit she acquired from her Algerian, refugee parents, and one that became synonymous to those late nights in Remus’s eyes.

“Facts can be wielded to someone’s personal vendettas, Remus John,” she had crooned in that adoring way of hers whenever she spoke to him— honey eyes that were the same color and shape to Remus’s own flashing alight and their matching smiles going crooked in her stunningly beautiful face.

“Oh.” Remus had replied, still confused as all get out but was perfectly fine with just holding his small vigil, watching her beneath moonlight and the soft glow of their outdoors lamps, as he listened to the shuffling of papers while she commenced this odd quirk.

It’s a decade and a half later— as his editor for the Phoenix, a small, but bustling online editorial that plans on dethroning the likes of Politico and Vox in only a matter of years, scans his latest findings on the corrupt boosters linked to MP Avery from Leeds— when Remus thinks he suddenly understands what his mother, with her keen eyes and pixelated air, had meant by facts in how they can be colored differently simply by the words surrounding them. And he wonders if one day soon, one of his bylines will join her little stack of stories, if she’ll be proud of him even if she says as much even now, when he’s a lost twenty-something stumbling through life in the capitol and barely making it as is, between his actual job and the gig he has at the coffee shop nearest his dingy flat he shares with three other blokes.

“Mmm, this is good, Lupin,” Dorcas declares after what feels like an eon, dropping her long, dark legs from where they were lounging leisurely on her desk and scuffs out her cigarette in a pretty, glass ashtray. “Send it over to Flores to look into deeper, maybe it’ll corroborate the info she’s already gotten from her sources.”

Remus feels himself bristle, hopes that it doesn’t show, that his face stays passive as he contends, “I think I should at least help her write the expose, I’m the one who got this bombshell.”

“That’s not how it works, sweets,” Dorcas toots, tossing back her dark head of curls as she rises, perching on the corner of her desk delicately and looking down, straight into his gaze. “I know it’s frustrating, but you’re fresh blood. barely six months here, but Alice has been with us for years. This is her baby, and we’re just here to nurture it.”

“So I’ll have to wait another ten months, at least, to get the same treatment?” He argues in an admittedly petulant way, making Dorcas laugh endearingly, and Remus is suddenly, searingly reminded of his age, and how he’s the youngest staffer that this London based news outlet has on hand.

“C’mon, love, it won’t be that long for someone as sharp as you, just be patient, and don’t try to pull a Zoe Barnes on us, yeah? You’re far too pretty to clean up on the rails of the tube.” Dorcas tousles a hand into his dark tawny curls, and Remus holds back the roll to his eyes that he feels willing up inside of him as he stands fully.

“Thanks Cas.”

She smiles beatifically, and throws him a wink. “You’re joining Emmy for the report tomorrow on those United footballers and their fundraiser for the hospital, yeah?”

“Bright and early,” Remus replies, still feels a bit miffed that he was chosen to write up the charity function, considering he doesn’t know a lick about football and doesn’t really get on with anyone who does. But Caradoc— their typical sports reporter— is out sick with the flew, so it’s on him. “I’ll have it on your desk early enough so it’ll be published by tea time.”

“Good man,” Dorcas says in thanks, picking up her crowing cellphone before waving him off.

Remus isn’t all that surprised when he strides out of the office only to find Benjy Fenwick sitting against the opposite wall, knees pressed to his chest and quickly scrambling up when he catches sight of Remus. Sometimes it’s impossible to believe that the bespectacled man in front of him is one of the top editors for the Phoenix, that he’s a regular corespondent for places like the BBC or CNN— that his rebukes against the piss poor inquiries waged during PMQs have become more anticipated than the sessions themselves. Remus tends to forget all of that when he sees him like this, messy haired and wearing a graphic T-shirt with some marvel superhero embossed on the front. “Wotcher Remus.”

“Hiya Remus says, smiling softly and rocking back on his heels. “You wanted to talk to the sergeant then?”

“Huh? Oh, no, no. I didn’t want to talk to Dorcas, I just— Erm, I know you were showing her that stuff you got from that intern, Pettigrew, and i know you were chafed about not getting any opportunity here so—“ He trails off, scratching the back of his head and studying a point over Remus’s shoulder, and it’s all too endearing, and Remus is so beyond thankful he’s made such a good friend here.

“No cigar,” he says in answer to the unspoken question, shrugging noncommittally even if he feels like shit over it.

Benjy nods, face contrite in a way that tells Remus he never thought it would’ve went otherwise. “I’m sorry, that’s bollocks.”

“’S whatever,” Remus shrugs off the apology, begins walking down the hall and straightening his report to hand over to Alice.

“Ah,, erm. We can get a drink, yeah? In commiseration,” Benjy offers, and Remus stilts only for a beat before continuing the twisting trail to where Alice is set up with the more senior members on staff. And he feels only sorta bad about wanting to refuse. He knows that if he says yes, it’ll mean something different to Benjy than it does him, that he’ll probably take it as Remus finally giving into his pestering and deciding to actually go out with him, even if he’s refuted the other four times he’s asked as much. Remus’s simply just too busy trying to get a footing in this city, and trying to figure out where he’s suppose to go from here, and what he’s suppose to do. And yes, Benjy is cute— a complete Seth Cohen archetype. And he’s sweet and smart and funny enough. But Remus is really not in the mood for doing the whole flowers and wine and candle lit dinners shtick, had gotten enough of that while still with his university boyfriend. And yeah, he’s only just turned 24, but he already feels too old and too jaded for that sort of puppy love— even if Benjy’s got a good decade and some change on him.

Probably sensing his hesitation, Benjy is quick to rectify the offer. “I’ll ask Mary, and Fabian too, and a few others. We can make a night of it, just some drinks on a Friday after work.”

Stalling by the last turn to Alice’s desk, Remus looks at him from over his shoulder, and sort of hates himself for being such a soft hearted fuck sometimes. “Yeah Benj, sounds nice. Just let me know on the group chat, yeah?”

Benjy grins, much more genuine than his awkward quirk of the lips from earlier. “Yeah, good call, I’ll let the others know pronto.”

“Aces,” Remus says, tosses him a obligatory thumbs-up before finding an expectant looking Alice who’s tapping her foot impatiently.

Yeah, today is so bloody shit.

Surprisingly, the round of drinks turns to another and then a third and fourth and Remus is currently nursing his fifth mango margarita on Benjy’s tab, and he actually feels lighter than he has since taking the job at Phoenix, feels bright and bubbling and like absolutely nothing could be wrong as long as he’s got this drink in his grasp and he’s sitting with the handful of reporters and photographers from the office that don’t all have sticks up their asses. It’s fun, it’s good. So obviously it couldn’t have lasted.

Mary is currently cackling about her Uber driver from last night who asked her all sorts of well meaning, but incredibly dense questions about her hijab— a freshly poured glass of coke in one hand, while the other is tangled into her girlfriend Emmy’s. And From his left Remus can hear Fabian ribbing Frank on his crush on Alice, while Benjy scoots intermittently closer as they watch Kingsley and Marlene sparring over something to do with a Kardashian or TikTok trend or whatever the fuck else— The guy has resilience, Remus has to give Benjy that.

“Right, who’s buying next?” Marlene asks, abrasive as ever while scrolling through her phone, ostensively finding something to prove her point against the managing editor.

“Reckon it’s my turn,” Benjy crows, standing up smoothly and glancing down at Remus with a nervous sort of half grin.

“Just a water for me, ta. I need to sober up,” Remus tells him, feels proud that he didn’t even slur slightly. Benjy bobs his head understandingly, and Remus turns to ask Marlene about her latest tinder hookup which always is a good laugh, but then he catches on it. On the sound of the pub’s doors flinging open, followed by a raucous crowd of athletic looking guys probably only a bit older than he is, clambering indoors.

They’re all so very sixth-form, broad grins and slapping each other’s shoulders with jeers, topped off with loud, bark like laughter that makes it obvious to Remus that these wankers think that they’re some sort of group of gods amongst men, roaming around like everyone should fall to their feet and offer everything they have. It makes Remus roll his eyes so far back that it feels like he might’ve sprained them. They just give off this exhausting aura that reminds him of a past boyfriend in tenth year who was on the footie team and who’s favorite activity was either making Remus feel lucky enough to go out with someone so popular, or dragging him around like some sort of bloody trophy.

To put it nicely, Remus sorta hates them on sight. So when he sees one of the tossers— regrettably the brightest of the lot who’s all pearly teeth, and glittering eyes and incredibly impressive shoulders that tape off to a narrow waste in an objectively infuriating matter— swivels up to the barkeep and jostles Benjy on his way, well Remus doesn’t hesitate to dart forwards to tell him off.

“Oi, watch where you’re going, yeah?”

Benjy and the bloke who looks like he might moonlight as a model for Calvin briefs for when he’s not lounging in a yacht off the Tuscany coast, both turn to him at the same time. Benjy looking abashed, and the aforementioned tosser preening like the cat who’s just caught a canary.

“Sorry, love. Didn’t see you there,” he says in a delightfully deep tenner, giving Remus an appreciative once over, and Remus absolutely despises how the action makes him feel both thrilled and irritated. “Trust and believe, I wouldn’t have looked away if I saw you.”

“Not me, arse.” Remus spits back, refuses to pay any credence to how his cheeks have begun to flush. “You bumped into my mate right there, the one with the tray of loggers.”

The tosser darts his almost molten gray eyes over to Benjy for a sparing second before he laser focusses back onto Remus, the most phony expression of contrition all over his face. “Sorry to your friend,” he says the descriptor like a joke that no one else is in on. “Let me buy you a drink in sorry for the one I made slim here spill.”

Remus is officially unimpressed, hopes that his flat tone gets it across. “You’re an arse.”

“You’re mouthy,” he retorts, looks like it’s something he greatly appreciates— delights over even.

“Ah, ’s fine Remus, really. I’ll just bring these back and get us a new glass.”

“Listen to slim, Remus, he’s got the right idea.” The tosser hurriedly interjects, strutting close enough to him that he makes it so Remus has to tip his head back just slightly so not to drop his gaze. “I’m Black, Sirius Black, just to get the pleasantries out of the way.” His leer tells Remus that the name should probably evoke some response of aw into Remus, but all it does is make him sound so egregiously pretentious that Remus wants to smack his own bloody head against a dry wall and stay in the hole until this ruddy Sirius bloke leaves him the hell alone.

“Good for you,” he says instead of all of that, and spots Sirius’s friends from behind Sirius chuckling and elbowing one another. Evidently this is a line the tosser uses frequently, and Remus is pleased that he might be one of the first who aren’t at all impressed by the grandiose way he introduced himself.

“Hah, you know I’m use to the pretty ones playing hard to get, but I’m really feeling here that you’re not exactly liking my company, love.”

Remus sucks in a frustrated breath through his nose, shouldering past Sirius and taking the tray of drinks from Benjy before storming back to their table where the others have begun openly gawping at the scene— Marlene outright squawking with Fabian just as Remus takes his seat.

“Don’t,” Remus warns them all as he silently says fuck off to the water and instead gargles down one of the loggers. And if he has to steadfastly not turn around for the rest of the night towards where he can feel Sirius’s gaze burning into his back— well then so be it.

The next morning, Remus has to puke twice into the toilet, and gulps down three aspirins just to stave off his bloody hangover from the night before where he decided that getting properly sloshed would prove as a good technique to not end up making out with Sirius in some dark corner— or regrettably the backseat of his car. And if he does still remember flashes of ranting to him about how insufferable preppy, rich boys actually are while Sirius gazed at him endeared— well Remus just decides to purge it out along with the stomach acid. It’s not like he’ll ever see the douche again.

He meets Arthur— one of the accountants who also helps out by taking photos for more low key news stories— outside the hospital where the conference will be taking place with the Manchester United team. There was a scrimmage that they all played with some of the kids in the cancer ward that occurred at around eight in the ruddy morning, but thankfully Remus didn’t have to show up until an hour later when the team presented their big shiny check, to the big, shiny hospital.

However, Arthur has been here for hours, so he’s beyond chirpy and looks like he’s downed three cups of espresso as he chatters on about his son Percy starting secondary school, and his eldest, Bill, getting an award for his reading prowess, and all the strange craving his wife has been having throughout her pregnancy with the twins they’re expecting any week now. And Remus loves Arthur, he does— one of the sweetest folks he’s ever met— but God, his head is still thrumming from those misguided tequila shots and he really just wants to get his three quotes, and write up the story so he can find refuge back in his sheets.

While Arthur has moved to talking about his wife, Molly’s, plans to open up a daycare in their refurnished garage, Remus scans his eyes over the familiar face of reporters from other outlets who look just as bored as him, and then to the stage where a woman in a sharply pressed suit is ushering for the group of football stars to join her, so that the conference can finally fucking begin.

And Remus thinks that their faces are sorta familiar, probably from all the publicity they get on the telly— but then he freezes as he stops at one of them with dark brown skin, and thick rimmed spectacles— and he suddenly can hear him chatting about his redheaded girlfriend and drunkenly declaring that she’ll be the mother of his children some day soon. So he completely expects it when his stomach drops as he moves his glance just a bit to the right, being struck by pearly teeth, and glittering eyes and incredibly impressive shoulders that tape off to a narrow waste, made all the more infuriating by the tight kit he’s got on and the blazing number twelve splayed against his chest.

And fuck.

Remus runs through about a dozen scenarios in which he can make a discrete, or not so discrete exit before he notices him, but in tandem to his spiraling thoughts, the wanker actually looks forwards, and like a creepy metal detector, his quick silver gaze pinpoints onto Remus.

They stare at one another for a beat before his smirk goes wolfish, and he runs a hand through his artfully tousled hair in a way that practically screams, fancy meeting you here. And holy fuck he looks so mouth watteringly attractive with that faint film of sweat running down his neck, and how his smile pulls slightly more to the left, and how he’s looking at Remus like he’s his birthday and Christmas presents all rolled into one.

Remus suddenly hates everything— but most of all hates Sirius, and how bloody fit he is.

“Oh, you’re a fan then?”

Starting, Remus shifts around slightly so that he’s facing Arthur completely. “Pardon?”

“Sirius Black I mean, you’re a fan?” Arthur asks in that abrasively congenial and intensely scrutinizing way that he treats everything. “I mean he’s a great player, but I know you don’t really watch. So I bet it’s all that charity work he does, yeah?”

“Charity work?” Remus echos, feeling like a floundering fish.

“Truly some amazing stuff.” Arthur pontificates, rubbing a hand against his jaw as he tips his head back. “I mean obviously I’m partial to the fundraising for Reporters Without Borders, but of course the things he does with the more impoverished kids is great. And I know Molly likes his very outspoken posts about being anti war and his annual live streams to earn money for refugees in those war torn nations, like the last one he did for Syria?”

“Oh—“ Remus says, feeling like his head is being overrun by a fountain of new information.

“Yes well, you don’t usually see athletes get into the thick of it with political issues, but I reckon he never really minded. I mean the fact he’s the first football star from United to have come out without any fanfare really proved that. Oh, I think they’re starting, I should probably get some photos before Dorcas gives me a tongue lashing.”

And as quick as the flash of his camera’s lends, Arthur is using his considerable height to get to a more advantageous spot towards the front, and leaves Remus in the dust, as if he hasn’t just obliterated his every assumption of Sirius from after that initial meeting.

And unbidden, the words his mother had told him so many years ago, about facts and how they can color a situation just simply based off the person who’s speaking them— flood to the forefront of his mind.

“Fucking hell,” Remus mutters lowly, gets jostled by Greengrass, a hawkish reporter from a rivaling publication who always has on the most wickedly sharp acrylic nails, and perfectly quaffed curls— as she waves around her certification to speak her inquiry.

“My question is for Potter,” she announces when the woman leading the event, McGonagall, points her way. “And I was wondering how early you boys have to rise for training during the season? And how intense the sessions are that Coach Hooch puts you guys through?”

Potter, the one with the redheaded girlfriend that Remus heard so much about last night between his ranting at Sirius, parts his lips, but it’s not his voice that ends up reverberating through the outdoors space. Instead, it’s Sirius, who’s shouldering him with a goading air, obviously expecting his comment to have only ended up in Potter’s ear and not caught by the mike.

“I wonder if Lupin will let me wake up with’m so he can let me get some real training done before practices, eh?”

And just as soon as his words pitter off, the entire crowd drops to a hush— quiet enough so that they could probably hear it if a pen dropped.

Sirius’s handsome face— strong jawline, and broad but sharp cheekbones, and a long, narrow nose— goes suddenly ashen, and he flashes over to Remus as if he’s terrified that he’ll bite his face off.

God, what an idiot.

With a long suffering sigh, Remus plucks out the microphone from a slack faced Greengrass’s hand. “We can discuss the regimen afterwards, Black. Just meet me by the front doors and let your mate answer the bloody question.”

Everyone around them falls into laughter that’s caught between uncomfortable chuckles and amazingly amused cackling, but the only person Remus is paying any mind is Sirius, and how he seems to have gone absolutely incandescent, nodding electrically before miming the zip of his lips and gesturing for Potter to carry on.

Jesus help him, Remus has no idea what he’s gotten himself into.

~My Wolfstar FIC Masterlist

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#WOLFSTAR #REMUS LUPIN #SIRIUS BLACK #SIRIUSXREMUS #REMUSXSIRIUS #WOLFSTAR FLUFF #THE HARRY POTTER SERIES #MARAUDERS #HARRY POTTER SERIES #ILU Victoria!!!#also to anyone side eyeing the buy me a coffee plz do not judge me #i am so searing embarrassed about it #rip #just it's there i guess #calls;jalksdgjaeowifjsadlkgh #look away from me #!!!#lmfao #spilt ink

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