#someone who snarks at you with a polite smile on their face

[mars-ipan]

i know i’ve said it before but we should really and truly be praising crowley’s overall self control. i would not have been so strong

[murdrdocs]

i want to imagine taunting/teasing coryo if u ever get to the position of being the person who he lets cut n trim his hair…… sitting on his lap or on the bathroom counter w/ him standing between ur legs…. seems like a good balance of snark/endearment 🫠

the slight domesticity of it all.

sitting on your bathroom counter, holding the scissors you used only for coriolanus' hair. you consider asking him once more why he doesn’t go to someone who’s better skilled with the shears, but reminders of his previous explanations fluster you enough to not bring it up again.

“i trust you more than someone only looking for my money.”

and each time he said it, it's been impossible for you to hear the deception in his sweet words.

besides, the advantage of cutting coriolanus' hair is that you end up like this, sitting in your favorite position to be in. coriolanus snow standing politely between your spread legs, hands at his sides, his shoulders and chest bare with excess blond curls soon to lightly shroud over his pale skin.

the banter flows easy like this. coriolanus usually telling some ridiculous story about his grandmother (“grandma’am”) or a sweet anecdote about his cousin that’s spoken with entirely too much malice for the nature.

you always end up chastising him for his attitude, and he ends up rolling his eyes at you, only getting even more of an attitude.

when you make your next snip your eyes widen and you gasp lightly. coryos eyes instantly display fear, his face starts to blanch. he gently moves you to the side, leaning over to cover the rest of the distance as he stares in the mirror.

“what? what? did you cut it too short?” he tilts his head this way and that, and all the while you’re poorly holding in a laugh. coriolanus doesn’t notice until he worryingly looks back at you. when you see his face, you can’t help but let the fit of giggles overtake you.

sensing the falsehood of your previous reaction, coriolanus sighs, seemingly holding off his own bout of laughter as he turns his head and looks at the wall of the bathroom. he doesn’t look at you until you tell him you’re sorry, albeit still through laughter.

“just …” coriolanus turns to face you, mainly amusement still on his face with just a hint of frustration in his eyes. “finish my hair.”

you stare up at him with big doe eyes and a matching smile, clearly expecting something else from him.

he sighs once more. “please.”

[dreamwatch]

Computer Love

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

Day #22 - Prompt: Alternate Universe | Word Count: 995 | Rating: T | CW: None | POV: Steve | Pairing: pre-Steddie| Tags: IT Crowd AU, banter, my attempt at humour,

Ok, I wasn't going to write for today, but I was sitting on a work call and it made me think of the IT Crowd and that made me think of our beloved idiots. And honestly, I've been writing so much angst I thought I should try and redress the balance!

Steve wasn’t exactly over the moon about working for his dad, but one failed retail job after another and a few unpaid bills is all it took to have him crawling back to Harrington Senior. He didn’t want to be an office gopher, or work in the mail room, not at his age, but he’d suck it up.

Head of IT. His dad was making him Head of IT.

So far he’s told two friends. Robin, who stared at him like he had two heads before saying “Is he joking? Is it— is it like an April Fools thing?” And Dustin who was even less polite:

“What the fuck do you know about information technology?”

“Is that what it stands for?”

“Jesus Christ, Steve.”

He heads to the bank of elevators looking for his department. Harrington Industries is spread over twenty floors. He wonders if he’ll get a corner office. God the views… 

Steve runs his fingers down the list until he finds IT. Basement. No view then. Shit.

He exits the elevator into a dingy hallway, discarded PCs and printers stacked everywhere, and trips over a cable almost immediately.

Finally he finds his department. And… well…

Fuck.

Yeah. It’s all making sense now.

It looks like a frat house. There are two guys on a ratty couch playing video games, and another two at desks; one mop top making cat memes, and an admittedly cute guy with long hair with his feet up on his desk. There are phones ringing and no one seems bothered by them, until eventually Long Hair lets out an exasperated sigh and picks up.

“IT Support, have you tried turning it off and on again? Uh huh. Yeah it’s the button on the front of the… yup, big grey button… can’t miss it… you know what, let me send someone up. What’s your floor? Uh huh, and name? Melanie. Melanie in Marketing. Well, I’m going to be sending my best guy up—“

And, finally someone has noticed he’s there.

“Uh, he’s on his way, bye.” Long Hair drops the phone. “Guys, we have company.”

“Hi, I’m Steve,” he says, smiling at the four faces now firmly fixed on him. “I’m your new boss.”

“Not for long,” snarks one of the guys on the couch.

“Matty, be nice!” says Long Hair, and god he has beautiful eyes. Shit, fuck, no, don’t go there. “I’m Eddie, that’s Matt, who is just about to head up to Melanie on four—“

“Oh for fu—“

“—That’s Jeff sitting next to him,” Jeff raises a hand, “and this is Gareth.” Gareth just scowls at him.

Steve finally gets a good look at them all. Ratty band shirts and sneakers, ripped jeans, totally unprofessional, they look like they’re in a band not an office. He’s going to be making some serious changes around here.

“Well it’s good to meet you all,” he says and finally catches sight of a small office. He points at it, “Take it this is mine.”

“Sure is,” says Eddie. “We didn’t know exactly when you were coming so you’re not set up yet, but Jeff will get that done this afternoon for you.”

“Why this afternoon?”

Jeff stares at him like he has two heads. “It’s Minecraft Monday.”

“Yeah, I have no idea what that is.”

Eddie laughs. “It’s fine, I’ll come in a few minutes get you hooked up. Why don’t you make yourself comfortable. Boss.” 

His office is small and cluttered with more junk, and definitely no window. God, this sucks. 

There’s a knock at the door and he turns to find Eddie leaning against the door frame, arms crossed against his chest. 

“How d’ya like the place?”

Steve runs his hand through his hair, pushing it back off his face.

“Uh, yeah, it’s, you know…”

“A shit hole?”

“Yeah, a shit hole.”

“I take it Donny didn’t exactly fill you in on the details.”

Steve drops into the torn office chair. “Not really,” he sighs. “He has a habit of that.”

Eddie straightens up. “You’ve worked with him before?”

He laughs. “Better than that. He’s my dad.”

“Oh shit.”

Gareth barges in. “Wait, Donny the Dick is your Dad?”

“Donny the— hey, that’s—he’s the guy that pays your salary, a little respect.”

“Pretty sure that’s Karen in finance.”

“What…? You know, never mind. Point is, this department is a mess and there’s going to be some changes around here. Starting with the way you answer the phones, you can’t just tell people to turn the computers on and off—“

“—off and on,” Jeff cuts in.

“Whatever, you can’t do it. You need to ask what’s wrong.”

Eddie laughs. “I mean, we could, but the answer would still be to turn your PC off and on again so…”

Jeff and Gareth nod along like those stupid plastic toys. God, is it too late to go back to Family Video?

“Well, that’s as maybe, but for now you’re… ah, dismissed.”

He doesn’t miss Eddie’s amused smirk, as he gestures for his troops to leave. But then he’s perching himself on the edge of the desk, leaning into Steve’s space, those big brown eyes pinning him in his seat.

“So, just between us, you don’t actually know anything about IT, do you?”

“I mean… I know… uh, like mice, you know and uh… oh!” Steve snaps his fingers and points, triumphantly. “HTNL!”

Eddie’s biting his lip, god he has beautiful lips. “It’s HTML, but you were close. Do you do a lot of coding, Steve?”

He flops back in the chair, defeated. “Up until last week I was working in Family Video.”

“In their IT department?”

“No, in their ‘this is due back in two days department.’” He groans. “What the fuck am I going to do?”

Eddie laughs. “Don’t sweat it, you’ve got a lot more going for you than the last guy.”

“I have?”

“Oh yeah. At least you’re pretty,” he says with a wink.

Yeah, Steve’s totally screwed.

[valentine-writes]

Can you do enemies to lovers with 1016 Miles?? :3

[ this will be my last req for this account, moving to my new blog officially once this one is up! catch me on @l0vem41l <3 reqs will be open there when i'm ready ＞︿＜ ]

overachiever

「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited, burnout, reader also attends visions academy, reader is trying so so hard to not be mean and fails (im so sorry), one-sided academic rivalry, author doesn't know how american schools work (i am so so sorry), comfort (?) 」

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3」

↳ ft. miles morales (1610)

author's note: YES I CAN!!! however,, i put a lil twist on the prompt given and made it academic rivalry (i genuinely cant find a viable reason to beef w/ miles i am so sorry (-﹏-；) !!) anyways! hope this works with you!!! soz itz so short!!! :[[

"wow," your friend's eyes light up, scanning over your test results, "...you've gotta be like, the smartest person i know."

you laugh politely, smiling at them as they hand your paper back. "no, it's really not that big of a deal–"

"what do you mean 'not that big of a deal?! dude, you got 100% on a test most people failed." your friend shoves their paper in your face as evidence– a 57% in red on theirs. "that's like... the highest grade achievable. probably the highest in cla–"

"THIS GUY GOT A 101%!"

everyone turns to the voice– the loud kid who sat behind miles eyeing his test.

you blinked in disbelief. you didn't even know getting extra credit was possible on this one.

miles looked up at the faces of his staring peers faces filled with disbelief and slight annoyance, and fumbled to set his test face down on his desk. he flashed an awkward grin "uh... yeah?"

-

▸ you liked miles. he was friendly. sweet. genuine. you couldn't hate him if you wanted to. no, you didn't feel hate towards him. it was just... jealousy. simple, petty, burning jealousy.

▸ visions academy was something you had to work your ass off for, constantly studying just to stay on the level of the students who attended. NERDS. all of them were nerds. but you were attending this school too sooo,,,

and then there was miles. someone who barely even had to try to get the highest grades. he had you seething.

▸ the most humiliating part was the fact that he had little to no interest in competing with you at all. the few times you had spoken were awkward and curt on your end, and yes– it felt awful being so mean for something as small as personal resentment.

▸ nothing justified your one word responses or the accidental snark that would slip into those few words. you mentally kicked yourself for the times you watched his grin falter because of something you said, miles awkwardly trying to laugh off whatever cold remark you just shot at him.

he'd walk away, dejected, and you'd stand there for a moment– frozen as you fought the urge to run up to him and try to explain yourself or beg for forgiveness. it didn't make sense to at this point. maybe he'd just accept this was the way you were– the way things would be between you two.

▸ so yes, perhaps in your pursuit of favouring school over every other aspect of your life, your social skills were left rotting and underdeveloped. but you knew, deep down, it wasn't just you being awkward.

being around him made you feel small. talking to someone, radiating the aura of someone with a promise-filled future made you look completely directionless and clueless in comparison. the effort you put into your academics was almost repulsive to think about when miles could take a test with a blindfold on and probably still score 90s.

maybe it was the deep set fear that you'd never amount to anything if you didn't burn yourself out trying. all of a sudden, the academic validation of being good wasn't enough. not when you were one of the best once.

▸ you spent an absurd amount of time trying to avoid him, deliberately moving to the furthest corners of the library so he wouldn't see you there struggling to wrap your head around whatever you were being taught in physics.

heavens above forbid that he walk up to you, greeting you with that sunny smile and cheerful voice that could make anyone falter. you may have been jealous of him– but oh, how you hated that feeling that way when he nothing but well-meaning.

-

the last sip of your coffee– long cooled by now thanks thermodynamics– did nothing to make you feel less dead. you had lost track of the time you had spent practically decomposing in this library, studying for an upcoming physics test that had you reeling just by the mere thought of it.

you sighed, staring at the papers strewn on the desk. your hands fidgeted with the pencil in your hand, it's eraser and tip rendered flat and useless by now, as you tried to muster the energy to gather your things to leave. it was much too late. the library would be closed soon and you'd be forced to go back home to study at your own desk in your bedroom.

this was routine. go to school, study in the library until it gets dark, and go home to study more– the next day, you'd find yourself still awake and studying or with a headache, your cheek pressed to the desk, and drool on your notebook. yeah. your bed hasn't been used in a solid while. and science homework isn't exactly the comfiest pillow. but this is what you were used to.

standing up, you stretched out a bit– and immediately froze as a familiar voice called your name. you paused, reluctantly turning to the source of the voice.

"...god, morales–" you huffed, "you nearly scared me half to death."

this is the friendliest you've been towards him in a while, he notices, as you flash him a tiny, crooked smile on your tired face. all potential malice you could have held had been beaten out by your absolute lack of energy.

he approaches you and looks at your desk, considering what to say to fill the silent air. he places a hand on your shoulder, you stiffen–

"hey." miles flashes a grin, not his signature smile but,, somewhat of a forced smolder.

you stare and resist the urge to cringe, wondering if you were sleep deprived to the point of hallucinations. you gently brush his hand off your shoulder.

"...hi?" you respond, unsure of what to do.

miles is snapped out of whatever stupid trance he was in by your voice.

"oh– uh– yeah, hey," he repeats your name again, trying to recover from whatever that was, "is– is everything okay?"

"i could ask you the same thing."

he lets out a little chuckle. "you know what i mean. all... this." miles' hand gestures vaguely to your desk and current state of complete entropy. "how long have you been here?"

you avert your gaze, shame burning in your face. "i... don't know?"

a pause.

miles places a hand on your back this time, in an attempt of friendly comfort. geez, are they keeping you locked in here?" he quips, earning half of a dry laugh from you. "c'mon. you should probably get home and rest by now."

"but–" your lips part in protest, looking back up at him to argue– but he just looks back, concern filled in his dark doe-like eyes. all possibilities of fighting him on this were out the window.

"you need it." he insists, a gentle smile forming on his face. much better than the weird smoulder from earlier, you think. "i'll even walk you there."

before you can speak up, he moves away from you, beginning to help you gather up your things to pack up. you mumble a silent thank you to him, which he accepts happily with a nod.

as he hands over the papers, his eyes scan them. "oh! physics? i love physics."

"no shit, morales." you scoff, snatching up the papers from him and stuffing them in your bag. "it sure seems to love you."

yet again, you've managed to mess things up. you bite the inside of your cheek before you can say anything worse. a sigh escapes your lips, as you decide to at least try and save the interaction.

"look... i'm really sorry. it's been a rough day, i've been struggling to get the concepts down, i'm falling behind and feeling stupid as hell right now, and– to make everything worse, the fucking test is just stressing me out and i just– i just..." you trail off from your ramblings, a sob getting caught in your throat as your shaky hands grip your backpack.

"woah, woah, hey– it's okay."

he slowly puts an arm around your shoulder, careful not to startle you or make you uncomfortable. you don't even realize how you lean into him. "let's just get you home. you've done your best, yeah?"

you nod. he offers you a little smile.

"exactly. and that's enough. okay? you're doing more than you can handle right now." there's a few more shared words as he reassures you.

part of him wonders how long this had been going on– how long you had been working yourself until you broke– mainly because that test that was stressing you out was more than a week away. yeah. he'd need to convince you to watch after yourself more often.

-

"and now a silly one!!!" (more lighthearted hcs below for the aftermath of this becuz goodness me.)

▸ things definitely ease up around miles. if he can't convince you to step away from your work, he's chosen to be able to regulate it.

studying with him in a local cafe is now a frequent thing you two do together. miles always gives you time to work, but will then ever so subtly lure you into moving on from your work to hang out with him normally. and it works. every single time. you might start in the library or cafe, but where you'll be later? always a mystery.

whether it's a walk in the park, going back to his place to chat, or finding some random activity to do, you find yourself bonding with him more and more. your jealousy begins to fade, finding a friend in him instead of someone you have to one up.

▸ you both spontaneously decided to see a new horror movie once and accidentally got miles in trouble with his parents for coming home after curfew. and he'd 100% do it again in a heartbeat if you asked.

▸ no matter what you get on that next test, miles is going to congratulate you like it's the best he's ever seen. he's overjoyed to share your achievements, to celebrate them like no one in your life ever has.

miles holds up his test as you tell him your grade. "you got a 92? hey look– me too!"

a snarky voice speaks up, "well, i got a 98% so–"

"no one was talking to you." miles retorts.

you press a hand to your mouth and look away, trying to stifle laughter. was he always this sassy or did you just end up rubbing off on him?

▸ you both end up being extra studious for the next test (breaks included this time) and he's sure to be extra loud about congratulating you for your perfect 100%

maybe the sass wasn't all you,,, but the minor pettiness definitely is your influence. it's actually not. miles is pretty easygoing,, but man did he not like when that random ass kid gave you attitude.

you smile at miles, ensuring to do the same for him if not, a little louder

"what? 'm complimenting you." you tilt your head at miles' stunned expression.

for a moment, he stumbles over his words. "i know– you just– i didn't expect that from you, so–"

you laugh. "what? you want me to go back to being mean or something?"

miles laughs too. it's hard not to stare at the way he lights up a room like this.

▸ things feel lighter now. you've made social progress with others, you have a life beyond just school– and you have miles. part of you wonders if you'll ever be able to tell him just how much he means to you and how you wish you could've just been his friend from the start.

sometimes, in the corner of his eye, he catches your wistful stare. and though he doesn't utter a single word, you start to feel that he cherishes you just as much.

[collectivecloseness]

1) hey. You know i love you, right? & 45) how can someone as perfect as you, like someone like me? For Steve/reader please. With Steve then reader saying it

Prompts: 1) hey. You know i love you, right? & 45) how can someone as perfect as you, like someone like me?

(Notes: anon i got your follow up requesting alluring to the reader having depression as well, so tw for depression mention)

Steve Harrington x reader

You stood quietly on the sidewalk, swinging back and forth with your feet on the edge of the curb, as your boyfriend said bye to a group of his highschool friends. Specifically, a few guys he was on the basketball team with, and their girlfriends, who’d all bumped into Steve’s as he closed up family video, with his arm around your waist, ready to take you back to his for an evening of ‘borrowed’ movies and good popcorn.

But then his old teammates ran into him, all on their way to some club that didn’t care if people were one or two years south of being allowed to enter, and Steve had been swooped up into a conversation with them. You didn’t mind it, and he still kept his hands warmly around your waist the entire time. Until you’d given him a small smile, and politely stepped away in the middle of the conversation, so he wouldn’t ask. Until the girls started drooling over Steve Harrington again.

Apart from one of the couples who’d been dating since Sophomore, you’d never seen any of the girls with these particular guys before, in fact you were certain two of them had swapped boys, so it didn’t surprise you they were absolutely fine batting their eyes at Steve. Who by all accounts, even if he’d lost his king status, was still highly wanted.

Steve soon wrapped up bro hugging his former teammates, and as they all cheered goodbye to him, maybe a pre party or two in, Steve wrapped his arm over your shoulders, and finished their rallying cry for Hawkins High back between cupped hands, apologising quickly to you, still with a grin on his face as you flinched away from his loud cheer in your ears. Only smiling a little up at him for that though. That you could smile playfully about. The thoughts in your head were more damaging.

“Okay! Shall we get moving?” Steve clapped his hands together, grabbing his keys back from his pocket and swirling them around his fingers, as you both walked to his car.

Inside you turned the radio up, before you’d even done your seatbelt. To which Steve just smiled at you, singing lowly along to the lyrics he knew, and a few he was definitely misunderstanding, as he mindlessly bopped his hands on his steering wheel.

You were glad for the distraction. At least it meant you didn’t have to talk. You saw those girls, a few of whom rumours had spread Steve had dated before, well known, popular, dazzling, all dressed up, make up and hair amazing, bright smiles glimmering at Stevie. And you saw how animated he got when his old clique came rolling up, how pumped he was to be hanging out with them like it was old times, even if it was only for ten minutes.

Like Robin, who occasionally snarked Steve over this fact, he hadn’t really noticed you in his high school days.

It wasn’t anything malicious, and it wasn’t like you were invisible either. You just didn’t really connect until Steve started working at family video, which was fine! You hadn’t paid Steve more attention than a regular classmate, and than understanding his status as king, either. And then with Vecna, you two became even closer.

But it still sometimes worried you. A cold, sludgy feeling creeping from your stomach, up through your chest and throat like bile, that you weren’t good enough for Steve. And that, horribly, one day, he’d know it too. Which is why, even though Steve knew about your depression, and had glimpses into your self-doubts, you hadn’t exactly told him this point blank. For fear as soon as you said the words, he’d take a step back, and see it for the first time clearly himself.

Steve quickly pulled up to his home, and you two got out of the car together. Steve quickly making his way to your side, humming the rest of the Madonna song lost with the cars engine, as he placed his hand on the small of your back, leading you up his pathway. You loved how often he touched you, even at simple times, Steve always liked to be touching you.

Steve turning his head to you now however, made you try to fight back a grimace, because you could tell what was going through his head.

“Hey. You’ve been pretty quiet the entire ride.” Steve lightly begun, his hand sliding further along your back as he walked you to your front door.

“Really? Sorry. Hadn’t noticed.” You quickly covered up, melting just a little when Steve breathed out a laugh through his nose, and you could feel his lips smiling as he kissed your head. “Don’t need to apologise. Just saying.”

You squeezed his waist with your own hand holding onto him for a few seconds, unceremoniously dropping simply as Steve had got the door open. Holding it for you as you came in, double locking the door with the bolt he’d put in after his first experience with the upside down, before kicking his shoes off in tandem with you, throwing his vest onto the coat rack.

Steve sighed loudly, wiping his hands over his face, before stopping in front of you. Pressing both hands to your waist as he leaned over and pecked a few kisses to the centre of your head. “Mmh. Food now?” He asked, to which you only nodded. Loving Steve’s loving gestures, but also feeling bad in yourself about him holding your waist

He soon let go, looking like he wanted nothing more than to collapse into the couch, which you did yourself, but walking over to the wall his phone was on, and scouring through the neat pile of take out menus. “I’m thinking pizza, we can get it from the place you like this time. Sound good babe?” He smiled over at you, batting the menu against his hand and the leather of his watch.

You didn’t jump up with the fact that Steve always bitched about ordering pizza from his much preferred restaurant usually, and you didn’t turn around with a smile, you didn’t even say yes. You just threw a thumbs up behind your back, and your eyes scoured for the tv remote without moving your body. Fuck this would seem more natural if you just switched on the tv right then. But maybe Steve wouldn’t notice.

Big no.

Steve dropped the menu and walked over to you, sitting down on the sofa cushion closest to you, and tried to snatch your eyesight.

You just couldn’t do it.

“Hey? Is everything okay hun?”

“Mmhm.”

Fuck. You were doing a shitty job. But you couldn’t help it. You felt grey. Like just your whole body was grey. And cold. And disgusting. As much as you desperately wanted to act like everything was normal, you just didn’t have it in you. You couldn’t even look at Steve, and you didn’t even really know why! God everything felt awful right now, just because some of Steve’s old friends had to remind you all of the reasons you thought you didn’t deserve Steve. Not that they were buried deep anyway. You always thought it was true. And God Steve was leaning closer to look at you and you just wanted the earth to swallow you whole right now so you could avoid this!

“I love you.”

That was all Steve said. And while the spike through your heart this time was a nice one, rather than a jagged painful one, it still felt wrong. Like Steve saying that was just wrong. Not that you didn’t believe him, you knew he was a true guy. But it made you feel worse, even less capable of looking at him. No matter how hopeful and genuine his tone was then.

You just turned your head away, your body inching in on itself, the sofa shuffling in the quiet of the room. And oh, if you could have seen yourself, you knew that would set alarm bells off in Steve, it would in anyone. And you didn’t see Steve’s face dropping.

“Hey. You know I love you, right?” Steve was concerned, confused. He shuffled closer to you, knees on top of your curled up thighs, his warm hand hovering over the space between where your back was arched away from him, and the sofa, before deciding to place it there. Angling his head as much as possible to try and get you to look at him, with his eyebrows scrunched sadly, and his deep brown eyes troubled.

You didn’t turn back at him, you didn’t even look at him. Steve could just hear you breathing louder now, breaths flowing from your mouth.

“Baby you know I love you?”

Steve was worried. He tried to smooth his face just a little, wanting to be the strong one for you, but letting his concern for you prevail clearly, even if you weren’t looking at him now. He half wanted to grasp your chin and tilt you to look at him, his hand certainly brushed against your cheek enough for his movements to flutter there. But instead Steve changed course, easily jumping from his seat on the sofa, and landing right in front of your feet. Resting his hands on your knee, head level with yours, and always bobbing, following you, just a bit under you, silently pleading for you to look at him. He had half a mind to jump onto the end of the sofa in front of you and squeeze in with you, if he didn’t worry about crowding you and making things worse. Steve just wanted you to talk to him.

And he got what he wanted. His pink lips dropping wider as you finally turned your head to him, and he saw your watery eyes. His hand immediately shot to your cheek again, his thumb rubbing your apple as you cried, his face miserable as he watched you sniffle, desperate to be close to you, to fix this.

“But... why?”

Your head felt too full, too fuzzy with unnerving thoughts to really untangle this web. You just wish someone could do it all for you. Without wanting to put that pressure on Steve. You kept your face in his hand, but you didn’t move far into it. But now your eyes couldn’t move off of Steve’s, and you found it a similar problem. Because you couldn’t stand to see how sad you were making him.

“Why what baby?” Steve asked caring, rubbing your cheek with one hand, always shifting on his legs, and periodically squeezing your hand with his other.

“How- how can someone as perfect as you, like someone like me?” You forlorned.

Steve’s eyes widened in shock, a little glossy themselves now, and he grasped your hand tighter, his thumb quickly wiping away any tears that fell. “Hey y/n how could you think that? I love you. You know that. Why would you think that sweetheart?”

“Because I s-saw your friends. I saw how well those girls look after themselves, how liked they are, and I know the girls you used to date back in highschool-“

“Baby that was highschool.” Steve interrupted, but you just squeezed his hand back.

“I don’t... I don’t...” you were scared to say it. You didn’t want him to think it, you didn’t want to shatter the illusion, you didn’t want Steve to see you that way, you didn’t want Steve to think of you like that, you couldn’t have Steve look at you like that!

“Don’t what y/n?”

Fuck it. Your heart was beating too fast. “I don’t look like them! I don’t look like someone you’d date, I don’t act like people as cool as your friends, I’m not as cool as them, I’m not as cool as you! I’m not anything. I’m not anything compared to all that. I just... you could do so much better, and I’m so so scared that you’ll realise that and leave me and I’m sorry for keeping you away when you deserve better but I love you and I don’t want to-“

A large sob overtook you, and your eyes widened for a second as you realised everything you’d just said in the second your body forced you to breathe. And you collapsed your face into your knees, your hands covering your face, as you sobbed into your legs. Distraught with what you’d just said.

The whole time Steve rubbed your back. Shushing you, but you couldn’t hear it. Not over your own sobs. You dreaded to see his face, to see him thinking over what you just said. And when you eventually had to look up, Steve was going to see your face at arguably its worst. Heated, eyes red, blotchy, swollen, hair a mess, nose runny. You didn’t want to look up, you didn’t want to face Steve, you couldn’t lose him.

Even if sometimes it felt like you were selfish for keeping him. Because you were so sure he could do better than you.

Steve kept holding your hand, the one hiding the side of your face, but the one he hadn’t let go of the whole time. And he kept it as he moved, no longer in front of you. Something you were aware of, so much it subconsciously stifled your cries a little, because you were trying to listen to where Steve was moving, too afraid to look up. But then you felt him right by your side again. And before you knew it, Steve was moving you over onto his lap, without any resistance from you, and you cried as your face was placed against his chest. A fresh wave of sobs overtaking you as Steve cradled you to his chest, his strong arms scooping you up comfortably onto his lap, as he held you. Rocking you. Gently, warmly, lovingly. You didn’t even hide your face with your hands, you didn’t have to.

You just cried into Steve’s chest, able to smell him from your nostril that wasn’t blocked, and able to feel him all around you. Able to relax because his chin was tucked into your hair, so at least one of your fears was quashed, he couldn’t look at you like that. Your sobs quiet, but hiccuping into Steve, letting your boyfriend hold you, and letting him comfort you.

“Baby...”

This was it. Your sobs stopped in your throat like sick, silent as you waited to hear what he had to say in that careful tone.

“...you know I know you’re beautiful right?”

A steady breath left you. Just looking up at him. His face upset, but warm. His hand lovingly stroking over your face, getting those hair strands away from your sticky cheeks, his other hand soothing on your back.

“You know I can tell how gorgeous you are. I see it everyday.”

You slowly tried to hide in Steve’s chest, but his hand warmly spread from your cheek across your neck, and it made you roll it in how good it felt, head lolling flatly onto Steve’s chest. Smushed, you were sure, but way too comfortable for you to move. Especially when your wet eyes and heated form made you feel so sleepy. Especially when Steve made you feel safe enough to doze on.

You sniffled, uncaring and not self conscious about it, as you snuggled into Steve’s torso, because he had such a way of holding you so comfortably. “You’re just saying that.”

“Uhhh no.” Steve responded, in an almost bitchy voice, which usually got you to laugh when he was like that. Instead, you just looked up at him with eyes that looked so big, glossy under him like this.

“Babe, you’re a hottie. Do I not say that enough? Dustin makes vomiting faces at me all the time when you’re not looking when I say it.”

Okay he got a giggle out of you there. Your heart still thumped though, uncertainty making it’s home in your brain as it always did. Luckily Steve Harrington was an expert at speeches.

“You���re a smoke show. Suuuuper charismatic. You are the quintessential apple of my eye.” He kissed your head, then again because he couldn’t resist, and he saw your hand reaching up, lightly playing with the shirt gripped to his chest.

“I mean, you remember that night I didn’t want to take you to Robin’s party because I swore someone was going to steal you away, and then you suggested I wear something as hot as you were so that way you didn’t stand out.”

A small giggle slipped past your lips. And Steve’s fingers waggled slightly into your waist, making you dodge away and quickly grab his hand, although not caring that he was touching your waist anymore. You just brought his hand back up to between his chest and yours, and played with it. Listening to Steve as you just looked at his hand, watching his fingers go as you toyed with them.

“I’m still terrified of someone scooping you up. Away from me.”

Now you looked up at Steve. Your cheek was pressed into his chest, and even though he was smiling at you, his eyes were flickering down like yours had been earlier. A hint of hurt betrayed in them. “You know.... you know I- I struggle with my own self doubts too. You help me with them all the time.”

Steve only had to lift his stolen hand, to be able to kiss the knuckles on all of yours. His eyes flickering to you with some playfulness, but soul still there. “And I’d be a bit of a shitty boyfriend if I didn’t know your own personal demons too, since you help me with mine all the time. And I know you know it’s brave to do so, and I hope you’d know that I’d never be upset with you for having them, like I’d leave you or something. Because I’m not gonna magically think it’s true just because you say something that’s frankly absurd about yourself.”

You just looked at Steve awed. Your heart still, your whole body and mind at ease. The storm was over, and you were just enamoured with Steve. Just taking in everything he had to say, as he held you. Tears dry and itchy at your eyes, only to be pushed away like Steve had magically known of it the second you felt the discomfort. He never let you feel even the slightest of that.

“And considering how I’ve seen you fight literal demons, I’m sure you look just as hot battling mental trauma than with blood splatter and sweat all over you.”

You laughed loudly this time. Feeling proud in yourself that you got Steve to smile again too, laughing along with you. As his hands cupped your face, feeling your laughter in your cheeks, and swatting away any loose strands of hair, watching you laugh like you were the most beautiful sight in the world.

Yeah. You leaned your head against Steve, looking up at him with nothing but love in your eyes, and seeing it reflected right back at you, before having your face brought up for a kiss. You’d get through this with him. It had to be easier than actual demons, after all.

[landinrris]

A snippet! Now that I'm finally editing the Witch! AU, I wanted to share a bit of Lando and Carlos meeting properly for the first time. The events as they happen in this 1.1k don't really spoil anything plot-wise. I humbly present, Lando as a witchy shop owner and Carlos as a human tourist stumbling into Lando's shop while on vacation for the second day in a row.

Around ten, Lando looks up as the motion detector chimes and almost chokes on the air he’s breathing. Because Sober Guy is there. Standing in front of him. A hesitant yet hopeful expression on his face if Lando didn’t know better.

He can’t hope for that.

It takes a lot of Lando’s Professional Adult ability to smile normally and greet him. “Oh, hi. Is there something I can help you find?” That’s a normal, professional response, right?

Sober Guy’s smile morphs into something more relaxed— Lando has to be dreaming. There’s no way this is real life.

Unlike yesterday, he isn’t dressed strictly for the beach, but rather in something much worse, in Lando’s humble opinion. No, today, Sober Guy has on a pair of running shorts that ride up a bit higher on one of his thighs and a workout shirt that’s damp to match his hair. He has running shoes on as well, proof that he’s decided to stop back into Lando’s shop along his morning run for whatever reason.

Lando wants to scream at him, ‘You came to the beach and you brought workout clothes?’ He doesn’t, but he could. It would be so easy to.

“Oh, uh no, I’m not here for anything specific you sell.”

“No? Is there something else then?” Lando had thought he’d seemed normal enough in the few minutes they’d more or less interacted yesterday— certainly not one to come and stand in the middle of a shop and stare. Maybe George and Oscar had been right after all.

Sober Guy rubs a hand over the back of his neck and steps closer to the counter. “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Carlos, I was in yesterday with a group of people. They were a bit drunk. I just wanted to apologize for them again. Make sure you knew we weren’t just another group of annoying tourists.”

It’s a silly thing to say the world shifts upon learning Sober Guy’s name. Carlos. It’s the perfect name for him. Lando suddenly feels like he can breathe easier, like he’s just cleaned his glasses for the first time in too long.

Lando thinks he only misses a beat before responding. “Yeah, I remember. I’m Lando, nice to meet you, Carlos. Your friends were fine, honestly. I’ve dealt with far worse. They had you looking out for them. Someone had to be better at holding their alcohol,” he tacks on, trying to make it sound like he wasn’t watching Carlos too closely. Carlos probably wouldn’t appreciate knowing Lando thought about him all afternoon and night.

Carlos just smiles. “Ah no, I wasn’t drinking, actually. Designated sober person and all that.”

“I guess that would explain how you’re up without them exercising. I’d ask if you’re sure you’re not a local, since who the hell goes on holiday and exercises— no, no, runs— but you’re down here, so I guess that answers that.” Lando allows some of his normal snark to come out, desperate to keep Carlos standing in front of him for even a few minutes longer.

He takes it as a positive sign when the smile on Carlos’ face morphs from something polite to properly amused— like Lando joking with him puts them on a more level playing field. “What, you don’t like to run? But it’s so great— feel the air in your lungs, the breeze in your hair. You wake up early enough and then you have the whole day in front of you.”

The thrill that sings through Lando’s body is pathetic. “More like burning fire in your lungs, sweat dripping into your eyes, and your calves on fire.”

Carlos actually laughs at him, and Lando has to hold himself back from actively preening. “Do you not get a lot of runners who come through here? Maybe they are clearly using a better running area that I should know about.” Lando swears there’s a hidden ‘for next time’ that goes unsaid but can’t figure out why it would be there.

“If only ‘cause all the people I know who live here use the trails in the parks that are around here a lot more. Run into fewer tourists that way. I guess if you’re staying down here though, it doesn’t make as much sense to go all the way out to them.”

“Yeah, we’re just here at the Harbor. It’s nice even if I think some of the amenities are wasted on me for such a short time. The girls like them though, so it could be worse.”

“Are you like the fifth wheel on this trip or something?” Lando doesn’t necessarily mean to blurt out that he’d been watching them that closely, but the words leave his mouth anyway, lulled into a false sense of security by their ease.

Sure enough, Carlos’ eyes go wide, a laugh at least close behind.

Before he can speak, Lando hurries to apologize. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to like, call you out or anything. I just noticed that it didn’t seem like you had a girlfriend or anything. Unless the others weren’t also together. Talk about just assuming.” Lando’s about to magic his own fucking mouth closed so he’ll stop talking even if Carlos doesn’t look mortified.

“No, no, you’re right. You just took me off guard a bit. I have been their fifth wheel for a bit of an embarrassingly long time, I’m afraid. But I don’t mind. It gives me more time to myself.”

If they knew each other better, Lando might reply with something like, ‘forcing yourself to run, even in the May mornings, is not proper time to yourself.’ But Lando is capable of not saying everything that comes to his mind, so he settles on something more mundane. “Oh, well that’s good, I suppose. Hopefully, they’re not too irritating and in your face about it while you’re here.”

Carlos goes to open his mouth when his watch lights up with an incoming phone call that must also vibrate against his wrist by how he startles and turns his wrist to look. Lando can’t read the caller id from here, but he figures there are only so many people it could probably be on a Sunday morning.

“And that would be my friends wondering where I am.” Carlos sighs like it’s the worst possible outcome— a reaction Lando tries and fails not to attribute to himself as the reason. “I should probably go. It was really nice to properly meet you, Lando. Good luck with everything.”

Lando tries to keep the melancholy out of his voice. This will probably be the last time he sees Carlos, and it’s worse now that he actually has a name to his face. “Yeah, you too. Try not to run into a car or anything. They’re not really used to people running voluntarily around here.”

Carlos gives him one last bright laugh that turns Lando’s insides to jelly, and then he’s gone.

[marve2014]

No Time Like the Present

Wednesday Addams x fem!reader 

Part One

Summary: Reader and Wednesday meet for the first time.

Warnings: None for this chapter   Word Count:1.5k

Authors note: All characters are aged up to 18. Minors DNI. 

Wednesday Addams couldn’t stand the thought of falling in love, she believed that she and her cold dead heart were destined to be alone. That is until she stumbled into the Weathervane and her eyes landed on you. She was searching for Tyler needing a ride to the train station, she looked through the crowd of customers unable to locate him so her eyes shifted back to you; you were struggling to make a large order of drinks while the line just wouldn’t seem to die down. She felt a surge of annoyance run through her as she heard a customer yell at you to hurry up. Taking a seat in the corner, Wednesday decided to stick around and see if Tyler was to show up. As she sat there, she could faintly hear you speaking to the next customer in line.

“I’m so sorry this is taking so long, I’m usually not the only one working, your order will be ready in just a second.’’ You smiled as you went to make the coffee the older woman ordered. Wednesday couldn’t explain the flutter in her stomach as she continued to watch you smile.

“Oh, no worries my dear, everyone just seems to be in A rush these days, you take your time.’’

‘’Okay, here you go! One caramel iced latte Togo. I hope you have a wonderful day.”

Y/N P.O.V.

You manage to make your way through the rest of the line not feeling the dark-haired girls stare never leaving you; you finally notice her once the customers clear out and you make your way over to her table. 

You give her a wide smile as you approach her, grabbing your pen and order pad. 

“Hello and welcome to the Weathervane, my name is y/n, what can I get for you today?’’

“A quad over ice and Tyler Galpin’s whereabouts.’’ The strange girl doesn’t smile at you or blink just staring as you write her order down on the ticket.

‘’The quad over ice I can do, but as for Tyler, your guess is as good as mine. He left me stranded during what was supposed to be his shift. I’ll be right back with your drink ….?” You draw out the sentence to a question waiting for her name. 

"Wednesday, Wednesday Addams.’’ She deadpans and drops her gaze to the table  

‘’Okay then Wednesday, be right back.’’

You head back to the espresso machine and prepare her order, feeling eyes on you, you look up and notice her staring. You give her a smile and see her drop her eyes to the espresso machine. As you finish you grab a croissant for the both of you and your own iced coffee and head back to her table, you hand her the drink and snack and pull out the chair across from her. You notice she looks surprised and once she realizes she immediately goes back to showing no emotions. 

“Do you normally sit with people who are trying to be alone?” She asks rudely. 

“Nah, only with the pretty ones looking for my coworker, which leads me to my next question; why would someone like you be looking for someone like Tyler? Outcasts and normies like him never really get along.” You smile at her and take a bite of your croissant awaiting her answer.

“Why I need him is of no concern to you. And are you not a normie like Tyler?” she snarks back.

“Well technically I am, but I’ve only lived here for a month. My mom got offered a job at the hospital and it was either move here and finish my classes online or stay with my dad and his new wife; I chose the former and here I am. I was thoroughly warned by Tyler’s dad though that ‘the outcasts from Nevermore are nothing but trouble’, I however happen to think that most of the kids I’ve served from Nevermore are much more polite than the stuck-up kids from Jericho.” Taking the last bite of my croissant I try to read the expression or should I say expressionless nature of Wednesdays face.

“Well, I should be going, goodbye." Wednesday rushes out the door with no further thought.

 “Yeah, great job y/n-real smooth.” You say to yourself as you wipe down the table throwing away her uneaten croissant. 

Wednesday P.O.V.

Wednesday made her way back to Nevermore after no sighting of Tyler and a feeling coursing through her that’s she was not familiar with. Unsure of who to talk to Wednesday made her way through the halls until she reached her room. Opening the door, she saw Thing staring out the window and Enid sitting on her bed flipping through a magazine.

“Hey roomie! Where were you? Thing and I gave each other manicures and we wanted you to join!" Enid chirps while looking over Wednesday with a confused expression.

“Enid, it would have to be my last day on earth for me to let the both of you give me a manicure. Now quiet, I need to start my writing time. No distractions today.”

30 Minutes Later:

“Enid… when you look at Ajax... how do you feel?” Unable to make eye contact with her roommate, Wednesday stares at her typewriter.

“OMG! Do you like someone? Who is it? Do I know them?” Enid excitedly answers.

“You did not answer the question.” Wednesday states emotionlessly.

“Okay... ummm I guess I feel safe, warm almost. Like I know that he wouldn’t do anything to hurt me or judge me.” Enid says as she clasps her hands together and smiles softly down at her hands.

“Okay, good. Now quiet, I need to finish this chapter.”

Y/N P.O.V.

“Motherrrrrr, I’m homeeeeeeee.” You call out as you take your shoes and apron off at the front door.

“Hi sweetie! I’m In the kitchen, dinner is almost ready.” Your mother responds and you head in her direction.

“How was work? Save any lives today?” you say as you start getting plates out from the cabinet and silverware from the drawer.

“Grab two more of each, we have guests coming. And there were no life-threatening cases today sweet girl. Thank God.” Reaching over and hugging you, you look up at her suspiciously.

“Who’s coming over for dinner?” you ask, hearing the doorbell ring just as your mother is about to answer you, instead she goes and opens the door.

“Sheriff Galpin! So nice of you to join us. Hello Tyler, you both follow me to the kitchen and make yourselves at home. The food is almost done.” Your mother smiles and gently ushers them inside.

“Thank you for having us ma’am” Sheriff Galpin states.

“Of course! After all the help you’ve been getting me situated at the hospital and around the neighborhood, I couldn’t not have you guys over for dinner. Especially with Tyler and y/n knowing each other from work.”

“Mom, I’m going to show Tyler the house while you two talk, okay?” you ask, grabbing Tyler’s arm and pulling him from the kitchen.

“Where the hell were you today!? I had to deal with the lunch and after school rush all by myself!” You yell at Tyler as you slap him on the arm.

“Ouch! Stop hitting me, Jesus. I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you I wouldn’t be in, I had some personal stuff going on and needed the day off.” Tyler explains, rubbing the spot where you hit him.

“Well, you better let me know next time, I almost murdered an old man today.” You joke.

“How terrible. Just don’t leave any traces behind, don’t need my dad arresting the only other coworker I get along with.” Tyler smiles and walks up the stairs with you.

“So, there was a girl that came in from Nevermore today, I’m pretty sure she is the love of my life. Although, she was looking for you and wouldn’t tell me why. Would you care to explain?” Pointing your glare at him.

“That would be Wednesday Addams, I told her I would take her to the train station after my shift, I forgot she was coming in today. Wait, did you say love of your life?!” Tyler almost yells.

“Yes, yes, I did. She was so perfect. All dark and murdery, the kind of girl you don’t know if she’s going to stab or kiss you.” You smile and stare out the hall window thinking about the way Wednesday looked drinking her espresso.

“Well then, I’ll keep that in mind for when I see her next.” Tyler teases as you both enter your room.

“If you value your life, you won’t say a word to her. I don’t even know if I’m her type. Ya know?” you threaten as you move to sit on the bed and Tyler sits on the bean bag across from you.

“Well, I have her roommates phone number, why don’t we give her a call. No time like the present, right?”

[fictionalmenxyn]

Hi, so I had a request from an anonymous about Y/n having fun with the boys and being a bit loud and someone tell Y/n that they are loud and it makes Y/n become quiet for the rest of the day. Sorry the actual question isn’t here as I was having problems with the typing. This is a add on to the childlike e very head cannons.

Hope you like it :) also sorry if it’s not what you expected or if it’s too short.

Like mentioned before feel free to ask stuff I will get around to it don’t worry. I will answer as much and as soon as possible so don’t think your getting ignored. Have a good day/night! :D

Standing at the bar with Price, Y/n was waiting on the bartender to pour all of the boy’s drinks. Price had made a few jokes and comments that Y/n found really funny and of course you were laughing and loving the atmosphere of the local pub. Grabbing the pints you were still laughing and giggling at Price; while Price had thanked the bartender. As the two were both walking over there was this middle aged woman with what looked like to be her husband. As Y/n kept looking over to her friends the woman glared at you. Sitting down, you sat in between Gaz and Ghost. You spoke “who wants a game of cards?” Soap spoke “I will” then Price spoke “alright let’s have a game.” You pulled the cards out of your trouser/pant pocket and started to open the box and shuffle the cards. You started dealing the cards out to everyone and then began the game. As you were playing Ghost now and again would make a comment about Soap being unable to keep a poker face. The Ghost said “You might catch flies with your mouth open that wide, Johnny. Worse than Alejandro when he chew his food” and somehow a switch was flicked in your mind and now you were having a laughing fit. Everyone then too joined in as they enjoyed watching you have fun. After a few more laughs and card games, you and Rudy decided to head over to the bar to grab some more drinks. You smiled at the bartender as he passed you your drink. As you took a sip there was a small tap on your shoulder. Looking to your side you saw a rather irritated woman, you politely smiled and spoke “could I help you miss?” The woman spoke “uh yeah actually, why do you have to be so loud? People can probably hear you from the other side of the pub” your smile dropped immediately. You felt as if you’ve just been punch in the face. You spoke “but it’s a pub?” The woman snarked “well your being too loud” you looked down embarrassed. You looked back at her “sorry miss, I’m just having fun that’s all I didn’t mean to ruin your day or anything” the woman lifted her chin up in arrogance and spoke “good” she then strutted away. You looked at Rudy and he spoke “that was quite rude” you nodded and you spoke “don’t worry about it, ok?” Rudy asked “are you alright? She was quite blunt with that” you nodded and spoke “yeah..” you both walked over and handed the pints to the others. Sitting down you sat there in silence as the others talked. Feeling like a burden in a place that welcomes everyone. Ghost whispered “what’s up with you?” You shook your head and whispered “nothing.” He replied “come on I can tell there is something wrong” you shook your head again. He took the sign you didn’t want to talk about it so he stopped prying. That whole day you were there and at other places you stayed quiet.

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day 14 - Prompt: Hope @pandalilymicrofics

February Daily Series - 596 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

“I definitely overheard,” Lily said, shaking her head. “You’re as bad as the rest of them, Regulus. Here I had hope that you were the logical one in the bunch.”

Regulus grinned as the giggles wore off. “Not if Pandora’s involved.”

“True. I am the devil on his shoulder,” she teased.

James leaned down and nudged Regulus’s temple with his nose. “Does that make me your angel?”

“Definitely not,” Regulus replied. “You’re that itch that I can’t ever scratch.”

“Distracting?” Pandora suggested. “Annoying?”

“Infuriating, more like.”

James laughed as he nuzzled into his neck. “Yet, you just keep reaching for me, hmm?”

Pandora smiled fondly at Regulus as he flushed from his neck all the way up to the tips of his ears. He was secretly a complete sap, so that wasn’t new. However, seeing someone indulge his sweeter side unprompted was lovely.

“As stupidly adorable as this is,” Lily said, stepping forward. “I’m ready to dance. Coming, Pandora?”

“If you’ll let me.”

It slipped out before she could censor herself. Pandora had managed to retain some level of respectability thus far, but her capacity for “polite company” was waning quickly. Snark and innuendo was her primary language.

Lily stuck her tongue in her cheek to hold back her laughter, but the slight shake of her shoulders gave her away. Eventually, she pointed at Pandora and crooked her finger to beckon her forward. She sashayed across the few feet separating them and placed her chin in Lily’s outstretched hand.

“You’re a menace,” Lily said, in a poor attempt at a rebuke. There was far too much humour in her voice for Pandora to take her seriously. Even if her lips weren’t twitching into a smile.

“Mm-hmm, I think you like it.”

She heard Regulus snort-laugh behind her and flipped him off behind her back. That set off James, who’s laughter was quickly muffled as his boyfriend dragged him away. It was good to know that Regulus still had some sense of self-preservation.

Lily’s thumb and forefinger slid up her jaw lightly as she tipped Pandora’s chin up. As she gave her a sweeping once-over, Lily’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Perhaps, I do.”

The words sent a shiver down her spine that Pandora couldn’t fully suppress. She closed her eyes and savoured the pleasant buzzing in her brain from LIly’s accent. It was absurdly sexy when she lowered her voice and spoke sweet and slow like this. Pandora wanted to climb into her lap and listen to her for hours.

“Damn, Lils. Take it easy on her.”

No! Don’t listen. Give me more, Lily.

When Lily released her, an annoyed huff burst from her nose before she could stop it. Pandora opened her eyes and scowled as she watched Lily turn away to speak with Mary. Every time she thought she was getting closer to Lily, someone interrupted.

I just need to get her alone.

Pandora fisted her hands at her sides and blew a stray hair out of her face. Now that she knew that Lily would play along, she was determined to test the limits of this connection. Even if she was the only one of them that felt it.

The thought landed like a slap to the face and the air was wrenched from her lungs. It took her a few beats to rein herself in and regulate her breathing again. Pandora sighed as she unclenched her hands and folded her arms over her waist.

Lily didn’t understand what this was, or what it meant. Not yet, anyways.

I just want to be yours.

[allari-ammayi]

I just binge read "butta bomma" and I love love love it already! The banter with bhalla is so cute🥺. I'm so so excited for next chapters!

(I have my physiology exam tomorrow but I couldn't stop myself from reading the fic as soom as I saw the notifications!😭❤️)

Ahh, thank you so much, I'm so glad you're enjoying it!! 😭❤️ (Good luck on your exam if you haven't done it yet, and if you have, well done!!)

Butta Bomma

A. Bahubali x Reader x B. Deva

#7

The Etiquette Lessons

Synopsis: Following the events of the pooja, Bhalla has taken it upon himself to hire a royal trainer to aid Y/n with her Etiquette in hopes of making palace life easier for her. But when Y/n's etiquette classes go down in hell, Bhalla grows a soft spot for the girl and subconsciously assists her. Bahubali, on the other hand, guides her through the ins and outs of etiquette and openly encourages her, striking a pang of jealousy in Bhalla.

3.3k Words

Prev || All || Next

As Y/n and Gowri strolled through the corridors of the palace, Gowri, her tone tinged with curiosity, asked Y/n, "How have your lessons been going, Y/n?"

Y/n sighed and rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Oh, you know, the usual. I've become a pro at curtsying and pretending to be fascinated by endless discussions about royal protocol."

Gowri chuckled, "It's not easy, but it's useful to fit in. You're doing well."

Just as Y/n was about to respond, a certain prince made his unexpected appearance, causing Gowri to discreetly step back and bow, giving the two some space. 

With a low bow, Gowri looked over at Y/n before scampering away from the two in a rush. Y/n, crand her neck and caught sight of her bad luck.

“Well, if it isn’t the bane of my existence.” She muttered to herself

Bhallaladeva's entrance was met with a cool, annoyed glance from Y/n, who was clearly not in the mood for idle chitchat.

With a smirk that hinted at his satisfaction in riling her up, Bhalla inquired, "How have your lessons been going, Monkey?"

Y/n's lips curled into a sarcastic smile, her annoyance evident in her response. "Oh, absolutely splendid," she retorted, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "I can now curtsy with the grace of a swan and maintain a poker face during the most riveting discussions about tea ceremonies."

Bhalla couldn't help but find her snark amusing, and he leaned slightly closer, his gaze locking onto hers with an almost mischievous glint. "Ah, the essentials of court life. You're learning to blend in admirably."

Y/n's scowl deepened at his response, her irritation far from concealed. She quipped back, "Of course, because nothing says 'Mahishmati royalty' like mastering the art of politely nodding while inwardly screaming."

Bhalla shot back with a teasing smirk, "Ah, necessary evils, Monkey. Even Monkey princesses need refinement."

Princess?

Y/n, rolled her eyes and huffed, having had enough of Bhalla’s annoyance.

“You know what, I have better things to be doing right now, Your Royal Snarkiness.” Y/n spat, irritably, Bhalla arched a brow.

“Oh yeah?” He smirked, “Like what, Monkey? Climbing trees so you don’t fly too far from your roots?” Y/n glared at him, her eyes narrowing.

“No. Like practicing how to gracefully and formally kiss someone’s ass for my next class!” She yelled in a whisper.

With that, Y/n pivoted on her heel, her sari swaying with each determined step, and began to walk away from Bhalla, her annoyance propelling her forward.

Bhalla watched her retreating figure, his astonishment from her final retort evident in his features.

Then, as the seconds ticked by, Bhalla couldn't contain his laughter any longer. The chuckles bubbled up, and soon enough, he was outright laughing at Y/n's sassy retort.

The laughter lingered in the corridor even after Y/n had disappeared from sight, leaving Bhalla with a bemused smile. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Y/n's next lesson in the etiquette hall seemed like an exercise in patience. 

The instructor had lined up her students, which was a group of patient Mahismati children ranging from five to twelve years of age and one impatient ‘Mexico-ian’ of over twenty that stood out like a sore thumb. 

She ordered them to balance books on top of their heads while maintaining a perfect posture.

As Y/n struggled to balance the heavy books on her head, her eyes began to wander, seeking even the slightest distraction from the monotonous exercise. The instructor's voice droned on in the background, explaining the importance of grace and poise.

Unable to bear the tedium any longer, Y/n mischievously glanced around to check if the instructor was too engrossed in her lecture to notice. Seeing an opportunity, she decided to make her escape from the seemingly never-ending lesson.

With deliberate care, Y/n slowly lowered her hand to the stack of books on her head, one by one, gingerly removing them and holding them by her side. Her posture remained perfectly composed, but her actions were far from what the instructor intended.

Just as she successfully slid the last book away, Y/n tiptoed toward the exit of the etiquette hall, her eyes scanning for any sign of the instructor's attention shifting in her direction.

Amused by the audacity of her act, Bhallaladeva had been silently observing the scene from afar. His lips curled into a faint, smirking grin as he watched Y/n's escape.

Y/n's nimble footsteps and the quiet creak of the door echoed through the hall as she made her daring exit. She thought she had succeeded in evading the instructor's watchful eye, but little did she know that she had an audience of one.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Y/n found solace near an isolated pond within the palace grounds, the serene waters offering a moment of calm amidst her frustrations.

However, her moment of solitude was soon interrupted by the arrival of Bhallaladeva, who had tracked her down.

Bhalla, with a playful grin on his face and his tone teasing, asked, 

"What are you doing here instead of gracing your presence in the hallowed halls of education?"

Y/n, still harboring her earlier annoyance, responded with a defiant tone, "I'm doing what I want, so mind your own business."

Bhalla grinned at her feistiness and then added in a mockingly stern manner, "Ah, but remember, I am the prince, and I could have your monkey tail cut off for such insolence."

His words were laced with humor, but Y/n wasn't in the mood for jests. She shot him an irritated glance and turned her gaze back to the rippling water.

Undeterred by her annoyance, Bhalla took a seat beside her, his eyes still dancing with amusement. He inquired more sincerely this time, "Alright. What's bothering you?"

Y/n hesitated for a moment, weighing her options. She had grown accustomed to their banter, but something about Bhalla's tone and genuine curiosity made her reconsider.

"Why do you care?" Y/n responded, her voice a mixture of frustration and resignation. Y/n shot him a dark glare, “Besides, if you’re just here to poke fun at me, I’m not in the mood, Your Royal Snarkiness.” 

Bhalla's playful facade faded as he sighed, his expression softening. "I may have my moments of jest, but I genuinely want to know what's troubling you. So, please, tell me."

Y/n glanced down at the rippling pond, her reflection distorted by the moving water. Finally, she decided to open up about her struggles. 

"It's those blasted etiquette lessons," she began, her voice laced with frustration. "I'm terrible at all that formality and grace stuff. I’m the oldest in the class by roughly ten or more years, and all the others are better at it than me! 

A five year old! A five-year old passed the test and I didn’t! And we had the same thing! The instructor seems to have it out for me, and it just keeps getting worse every day. I can't figure out why."

Bhalla listened attentively, his eyes fixed on Y/n as she spoke. The mischievous prince had given way to a more thoughtful and empathetic Bhallaladeva, which was as rare as could be. 

He could sense her genuine frustration, and it tugged at something inside him. Something he’d never felt before.

After a moment of silence, Bhalla offered a sympathetic smile. "Formality and grace may not be everyone's forte, you know. And sometimes, instructors can be a bit... rigid in their methods. But you shouldn't let that bother you so much."

Y/n glanced at him, surprised by his understanding. "You think so?"

Bhalla nodded. "Absolutely. Being true to yourself is just as important, if not more so, than adhering to the rigid standards of etiquette. Besides, I've always admired your... uniqueness."

Y/n couldn't help but smirk at his use of the word ‘uniqueness.’ "Well, thanks for the pep talk, Prince Bhalla.” Bhalla gulped, a small tint of red starting to appear beneath his dark beard.

"Anytime, Monkey. And if that instructor gives you any more trouble, you know where to find me."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

One day, as Y/n struggled to execute a particularly challenging maneuver for her homework out of class, Bhalla, who to Y/n’s horrid luck happened to be passing by, couldn't resist offering his snarky insight. "Oh, look at that, Monkey," he quipped, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You're almost as graceful as an elephant on roller skates."

Y/n shot him an exasperated look. "Well, you try doing this with a straight face."

Bhalla leaned closer to her, his tone still dripping with sarcasm. "I'm afraid I wouldn't want to outshine you, Monkey."

Y/n's brow furrowed in annoyance, but she couldn't deny that there was a glimmer of helpfulness within Bhalla's snark. "And what, may I ask, is your great suggestion?"

With a sly smile, Bhalla responded, "Simple, really. Just imagine you're gliding through a field of thorns while balancing a glass of water on your head."

Y/n rolled her eyes. "Oh, thanks for that enlightening advice, Your Snarkiness. I'll be sure to use it next time I'm in a field of thorns."

Bhalla grinned, his amusement apparent. "You see, Monkey, you have to learn to find elegance in the absurd. That's where true grace lies."

Y/n let out an exasperated sigh, not realizing that Bhalla's seemingly snarky comments actually held kernels of useful wisdom.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Y/n's thoughts swirled with Bhalla's unexpected advice as she strolled through the palace corridors, her mind racing to decipher the hidden wisdom in his snarky remarks. 

Lost in her contemplation, she was taken aback when she collided with a sturdy presence. Before she could stumble, strong arms reached out to catch her.

Bahu's warm smile greeted her. "Y/n, why’s your head in the clouds today?" he teased, a twinkle in his eyes.

She let out a small laugh, her cheeks tinged with a hint of embarrassment. "I guess I've been preoccupied with these etiquette lessons, or rather, my apparent lack of grace during them."

Bahubali's empathetic nature immediately sensed her distress. "Ah, the infamous etiquette lessons. Don't worry, you're not alone in your struggles."

Y/n couldn't help but smile at his reassuring words. "It's just that I feel like I'm fumbling through a maze of unfamiliar rules and expectations. His Royal Snarkiness- I mean- Prince Bhallaladeva tried to help, in his own snarky way."

Bahu chuckled. "Ah, Bhalla and his snark. But don't be too quick to dismiss his advice. Sometimes, he has a peculiar way of shedding light on things."

She nodded, reflecting on Bhalla's words. "He did mention something about finding elegance in the absurd."

Amarendra Bahubali nodded thoughtfully. "That's Bhalla for you, mixing wisdom with sarcasm. But he might have a point. Sometimes, breaking away from convention can lead to true grace."

Y/n's curiosity was piqued. "Do you think you could show me, Your Highness? Help me understand these customs better?"

With a warm smile, Bahubali extended his arm. "Of course, Y/n. But first, let’s drop the formalities, I think we’ve been acquainted long enough to be on first name basis.” Y/n gaped at the prince, before quickly gulping and forming a small smile on her face. “Let's take a walk and discuss this further."

“Of course… Bahubali.”

As they walked through the palace's grand corridors, Bahubali shared insights into the kingdom's customs. He explained the significance of each gesture, each formality.

Y/n listened intently, her initial anxiety giving way to a growing sense of comfort with the way the younger prince explained it. Bahubali's patience made Y/n feel at ease. Something she hadn’t felt much of since she arrived in Mahismathi. 

She felt that she found a genuine friend in the prince, someone who not only offered her wisdom but also a sense of belonging in this unfamiliar world. Something Bhallaladeva clearly lacked. Y/n rolled her eyes at just the thought of him.

But despite his snark, Bhallaladeva’s guidance did not go unnoticed by Y/n, but it was Bahubali who watched her lessons with genuine curiosity. 

Unlike Bhallaladeva, he didn't hide his amusement when she stumbled through the intricacies of courtly behavior. Instead, Bahubali often found himself chuckling at her endearing mishaps.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Bhallaladeva wasn’t the only one who noticed the struggle that Y/n seemed to go through for these etiquette lessons. Bahubali, with his keen eyes noticed almost instantly when he saw the look in Y/n’s eyes after a lesson. 

As much as he admired the girl’s resilience, he felt the instructor was indeed being a bit much on her. 

Being the younger prince and potential kind of the entire kingdom, it wasn’t very hard for Bahubali to pull some strings, just to help Y/n out a little. 

He didn’t do much, simply requested her etiquette teacher to go a little easy on her, so when this news broke out to Y/n, Bahubali couldn’t have expected her reaction to play out the way it did. 

Y/n couldn't contain her happiness upon receiving the news of Bahubali's help. Without thinking, she threw her arms around him in a spontaneous hug. It was a genuine, unrestrained display of gratitude.

Bahubali, initially taken aback by her sudden embrace, chuckled warmly at her enthusiastic reaction. "You're very welcome, Y/n."

Realizing her lapse in formality, Y/n quickly composed herself and executed a playful but exaggerated formal bow. "Thank you, Bahubali, for your valuable help."

Bahubali grinned, "No need for such formalities, Y/n. Just Bahu is more than enough."

With a bright smile, Y/n nodded. "Of course, Bahu. Thank you again." She then bid him a hasty goodbye. "I'll put your help into practice right away."

As she turned and hurried away, Bahubali watched her with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. Her genuine enthusiasm left him both mystified and pleasantly surprised, and it brought a warm smile to his face as he continued on his way.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The entire kingdom of Mahismathi - and by the entire kingdom, just Y/n - held it’s breath as Y/n’s final day for etiquette played out. This would be it, all of the practice, hours and days spent practising etiquette would be tested that day. Would she do well, she would pass, one tiny mishap though, would result in her re-starting the entire course. 

Little did she know, she had two unexpected observers eagerly awaiting the outcome, just asmuch or even more anxious than her.

Bhallaladeva, despite his usual stoicism, couldn't help but feel a wave of nervousness wash over him as he anticipated Y/n's performance. His snarky demeanor had been replaced by genuine concern for her. 

He decided to sneak into the hall, hoping to catch a glimpse of her and put his mind at ease.

On the other side of the hall, Bahubali also felt a sense of curiosity and concern for Y/n. He had provided her with some advice, and he was eager to see if she had taken it to heart. Bahubali, too, decided to quietly slip into the hall to observe her progress.

Y/n, oblivious to the presence of her secret observers, took the test with determination and focus. Her every move was executed flawlessly, and she demonstrated a level of grace and poise that had previously eluded her.

Y/n, drawing from the snarky but helpful remarks of both Bhallaladeva and Bahubali, tackled the test with newfound confidence. 

When the teacher informed Y/n that she had passed and was no longer required to attend classes, Y/n couldn't contain her excitement. In a moment of joy, she fist-bumped the air, her excitement for all to see.

Both Bhallaladeva and Bahubali watched Y/n's jubilant celebration from their hidden positions, their expressions shifting from surprise to pride. 

Before Bhallaladeva could make his way over to Y/n to offer his snarky congratulations, Bahubali had taken the initiative.

Bahubali felt a wave of pride wash over him. With a warm smile on his face, he quickly emerged from behind a collum and approached Y/n.

"Congratulations, Y/n! Truly unmatched," Bahubali said, his eyes filled with pride. "I always knew you had it in you."

Y/n's cheeks flushed slightly at Bahubali's kind words. His encouragement meant a lot to her, and she replied with gratitude, "Thank you so much, Bahubali. Your advice really helped me."

Bhalla watched from a distance, mildly annoyed that his brother had beaten him to it. He decided to wait and congratulate Y/n later when she wasn't surrounded by well-wishers.

But Bahubali's presence brought a genuine smile to Y/n's face, and she appreciated his support. 

However, she knew there was someone else she needed to thank. She turned to Bahubali and in a rushed voice, quickly said, "I’m sorry, Bahu, but I have to go."

With that, Y/n excused herself and left the hall in search of Bhallaladeva. She ran through the palace corridors, eager to find him and offer her thanks for his advice.

She finally spotted him nearby and sprinted up to him, her eyes gleaming with exhilaration.

"Bhalla!" she exclaimed, coming to a stop in front of him, completely forgetting all formalities in the excitement and calling him by his name. "Guess what?!”

Bhallaladeva turned to her, “Oh, so you’ve just decided to nickname the elder prince and ruler of this entire kingdom?” He tiled his head, “I’ll have you know the only two people who have called me ‘Bhalla’ and got away with their lives are my mother, father, and Bhaubali.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, caring little for the words that would have had her begging for her life had she heard them two months prior, “Yeah, yeah, sure, that’s great, you can do that later,” She dismissed his wrds with a wave of her hand before the excitement returned to her eyes like a glimmer. “I passed my test!"

Bhallaladeva's face lit up with feigned surprise. "You did? Well, that's quite an accomplishment," he said, his tone dripping with mock admiration.

Y/n couldn't contain her enthusiasm, and she raised her hand high, ready to high-five Bhalla. However, she quickly realized that the concept of a high-five might not be familiar to him. Bhalla looked at her outstretched hand with uncertainty, unsure of what to do.

With a cheerful laugh, Y/n said, "Oh, sorry, I forgot that high-fives are a… erm… my kingdom thing. We do this." She gently slapped her own hand with a demonstration of a high-five.

Understanding dawned on Bhallaladeva, and he eagerly followed her lead, giving her a light smack on her hand. "Ah, I see. Well done, Y/n," he said with a hint of amusement in his eyes.

Y/n couldn't help but share a piece of her world with Bhalla. "Where I come from," she explained, "people high-five each other when there's good news or just when they're happy. It's a fun way to celebrate, and in this case, me passing the lessons."

Bhalla, ever the snarky prince, couldn't resist making a teasing comment. "Well, I'm surprised you managed to complete it," he quipped, "I didn't know monkeys were so good with etiquette, monkey."

Y/n's initial excitement waned as she scowled at Bhalla's comment. She wasn't one to back down, though, and she quickly responded with her own snarky remark. "Well, Your Royal Snarkiness, I may be a monkey, but at least I'm a monkey who can pass an etiquette test. Can you say the same?"

The two of them began walking together, their banter back and forth like a playful game of verbal tennis.

♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭➜ @vellipo-mellaga, @bitchy-bi-trash, @vijayasena , @sakhiiii , @celestesinsight 《If you wish to be part of the taglist, please let me know in the replies!》

[dotster001]

Twst for me pls also congrats on getting 1k!

I first chose Jade. He looked interesting. I kept him around for a bit but it always felt like he watching what he says more than a normal person.

When Leona came, I switched to him. Ever since I've had Leona on my screen. He doesn't use a filter and sees the world for how it is. Life really isn't fair. I could relate to him.

Its probably over between me and Jade. Leona already told me that its best not to trust people like Jade. I'm not going to go begging for a lost friendship or get myself in postion that I dont want to put myself in.

To a everyday person I am quiet, polite, and hard working. I dont mind helping out, it keeps me busy when I'm not taking a nap. I have dark sense of humor and pretty cyincal of the world. But I like to see it as seeing reality. Its simply life will never be fair. I like to plan things and enjoy studying battles from history and breaking them apart.

I'm laid back do whatever one you see fit. All I ask is for a happy ending.

Cat-lover Anon

(I hope you enjoy this, cat lover anon. I decided to take kind of a serious route with it, since you seem to be a more realistic person. Hopefully it's still good 😅 also, as a fellow nerd, I adore that you enjoy breaking battles down. I 100% want to see you and Leona face off in a chess match)

A Tale in Which Leona Looks out for a "Friend", and that Friendship becomes something more

CW:Toxic Jade, Jade slander (I'm sorry, I love Jade, but it's so easy to slander him 😂)

You weren't his. 

Leona hadn't been close to you at first. He didn't trust Jade, and as Jade's lover, he figured you'd probably be the same as he was.

That is, until the day you were napping in one of his napping spots, and you sarcastically suggested you both cuddle. Never one to turn down an extra source of heat/extra pillow during a nap, Leona had plopped down on the ground and slotted himself in your arms, while snarking back at you about how this was a one time thing. 

Three months into being daily nap buddies and you were the best of friends now. While he wanted to be more than a friend to you, he wasn't a home wrecker. You weren't his. And having so many things in his life not be his, he was okay with that. He may not trust Jade, and he was very vocal about it, but you seemed happy, so he wouldn't push the issue past a snarky comment here and there.

Until you were teaming up to infiltrate the fairy gala. Jade had dropped by to give you lunch as Leona was helping you tie some parts of your outfit. The look in Jade's eyes was murderous as he gave you his usual smile. 

"I did not realize you were someone to put your hands on another man's property, hosuewarden. I see I'll have to be more careful about my possessions." 

All he was doing was innocently helping you with an outfit. And now he was being accused of who the hell even knows what! But he was more pissed that Jade had outright referred to you as a possession.

Luckily for him, you seemed just as pissed about it.

"Jade! I am not a possession!"

"I know my dear, but…"

"Do you really know? Sevens, he was helping me with my outfit! Get a grip!"

Jade eyes glinted sharply, and he moved in closer to you.

"My darling, what if I were to tell you he was madly in love with you? I've let this go long enough, but you shouldn't see him anymore. I don't think it's safe for you."

And with that, you exploded. The yelling and rage, maybe for Leona's sake, maybe for your own, or maybe for the sake of just being tired of being fed bullshit, filled the room, to the point where it caught the other's attention, and they had to step in.

                                ….

Leona was a good friend. He helped you work through the break up. Helped you stand on your own two feet. Gave you encouragement and built you back up. All he wanted was for you to be happy. 

A couple months after the break up, you flopped into his nap spot next to him and snuggled in close. He was expecting this to be a regular nap session, and was starting to drift off, when he heard a quiet,

"Hey Leo?"

He grunted back in response.

"I don't think I've ever thanked you for being there for me whenever I need you."

"It's whatever, herbivore."

"No, it's not," you sat back up, and forced him to look into your determined face.

"I know how much energy it takes from you to do anything. And the fact that you are always there for me, always ready to tell things to me straight, means so much to me."

He attempted to roll over so that you wouldn't see how flustered he was getting, but you held him in place.

Although….he had to ask himself if maybe he really did want to have this conversation since he had more than enough strength to fight you off if he truly wanted to.

"Is there a point to this?"

"Yes," you said with a firm nod. "I don't know when it happened, but somehow I fell in love with you, you grumpy kitty cat. And even if you don't return the feelings, I think you should know that at least one person thinks you deserve to have a happy ending."

He laughed dryly. "You know I don't believe in those."

"I don't either. But…." You hesitated, "maybe we can find one together?"

You suddenly pulled away as though your own words shocked you. You pulled your knees to your chest and buried your face in them.

"Anyway, no pressure or anything. Just wanted to share."

Leona stared at you for a moment, then sighed heavily.

"If anyone can help me find a happy ending, I guess it would make sense that it would be some silly herbivore with bad taste in men."

You looked up and shot him a glare, but he simply smirked and cupped your cheek.

"Are you truly certain I'm someone you want?"

You nodded, unable to say anything as his soft eyes searched yours. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, then threaded his fingers through yours.

"Alright then. Let's find a happily ever after."

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Trimax Thoughts Vol. 6 Pt. 1

Ahhhh I have fallen behind... D,:

Anyways. My usual stream of consciousness stuff for my first read! Here we go! I'm sure things can only get better from here.

[All images in this post are from Trigun Maximum Volume 6.]

Meryl... :( She's not even in the bed, she's just sitting in a chair, as if she knows she won't be able to sleep well... or more likely that she can't fall asleep and she's been awake so long she dozed off in the chair... my poor girl somebody at her job give her compensation or like. Extended vacation days or something. Please. (Also how long do you think Meryl had to reassure Milly that she was fine before Milly lay down and got some sleep? Idk seems like something she'd do; try to stay up with Meryl.)

The entire conversation between Wolfwood and Meryl is really interesting to me. Firstly, Wolfwood trying to dig for why Meryl hasn't asked any of the obvious questions (because it doesn't seem like Meryl has told anyone what she saw) and just coming across as incredibly annoying for no reason ahdjfhjdbfv. But what's intriguing is even with the lack of real communication here, I feel this is a conversation of equals, despite Wolfwood's objective being to get Meryl to leave. Meryl's fear has little to do with Vash's transformation itself, but rather the implications of what he is and the very visceral and traumatic experiences that she is now privy to through the perspective of the person who suffered them. Thing is, even with Wolfwood lacking this info, he still notes something about Meryl's character without saying it outright that is 100% spot on - Meryl won't leave for herself. But she might leave for Milly. She has a strong sense of responsibility to her, and Wolfwood pulls on that, likely because it's something of a commonality they share. (However, I think Wolfwood does not fully see that Vash is included, as well as Milly, in Meryl's list of people she would do pretty much anything for... but that might involve Wolfwood having to like. Actually admit that Vash occupies a similar position for him in a personal and not just occupational way...)

[ID: Vash's hand holds Marlon's gun loosely. His index finger has released its hold on the trigger and is dripping blood. End ID.]

...oh yeah. He's doing well.

Vash: *on the tail end of a severely traumatic flashback and incident*

Also Vash:

[ID: Three images of Vash making a variety of silly faces. End ID.]

(Also I adore his snark so much. Vash's inner monologue has got to be so much snarkier than anything he says out loud. That whole "I won't say anything because I am polite but know that I am thinking very loudly about how much of a dick you are".)

[ID: A panel of Brandon Marlon in a cartoony style, mockingly throwing his hands in the air and saying "Ohhh, look at me! I fired a gun! Woow!" then switching to scowling and waving dismissively, saying "You can die and be reborn a thousand times and I still won't make a gun for a moron like you!" End ID.]

Oh my god. Someone who actually understands the responsibility that comes with distributing weapons. Brandon Marlon you are my new favourite minor character. Also you're so funny about it.

Meryl... she is so worried about him... :(

"His determination is stronger than the regret he carries." Augh...

Wolfwood having nightmares... Meryl having nightmares... it would surprise me if Vash and Milly weren't also having nightmares... there is only one solution. Group cuddle session under nice big blanket.

[ID: Vash sits, perched on the edge of a roof with a friendly smile. Behind him, the full moon with the crater is in full view against the darkness of the night sky. End ID.]

Oh. Hm. This is a choice. Very much echoes what Wolfwood was saying to Meryl earlier, that they both know "what kind of guy he is" (friendly, compassionate, etc.), but that he's also very dangerous... a "time-bomb"... :(

AUGH

Oh man. More of the "I know" "I know you know" FUCK. No way Vash didn't realize Wolfwood was pointing his gun at him.

God. Nothing Wolfwood does matters. It looks like he killed someone to save the kids, but they're not safe and it just guaranteed he couldn't go back to see them. He tried to kill Knives but was too freaked to follow through and ended up trapped obeying him. Knives is going to destroy the orphanage anyways no matter what he does, so all he's doing is stalling for time. Caring about Vash doesn't change anything - he's still doing exactly what he's been told to do. He's stuck. He's trapped. Somebody help him out please.

Vash has now canonically been referred to as "pretty boy". I mean we all knew but it's still funny.

[ID: Vash, aiming his gun, has his back turned to Wolfwood, who is crouched low and shielding him with the Punisher. The remnants of a wooden table are shattered across the scene. End ID.]

OHHHH this fight scene is GOOD. Back to back fighting! They automatically switched who they were facing off against AHHH

They both, without even a word, showed their backs and trusted the other to defend them. I. Ok. Ok. I'm cool.

Never mind apparently Milly is sleeping like a log shgjdfhbvjdfhb

The Legato and Elendira interaction is so funny. Knives' duo of worsties who hate each other and want to kill each other but settle for petty insults and whipping beverages in the other's face.

DOUBLE FANG??? OHHH???

Why is this boy Bane. He has Bane powers. What.

...Legato. Wtf happened to your tongue. Like I'd heard people talk about the tongue but I thought it's probably not that bad. Never mind. Eugh.

[ID: A set of panels showing street market vendors and their owners, selling their goods. Snippets of dialogue are heard: "Right here! Fresh meat! Just in today! Chicken! Beef! Pork! You want it, we've got it!" "It's always a concern. That's why I suggest this powder..." "We use ingredients as close to the original as possible." "Well? Doesn't that smell good? That's the very freshest tea." "It's really fantastic, madam." "My, that is good. You don't skimp on the sugar." "It's flammable, so be careful. Nah, just handle it the same way you would gasoline." Amid the conversation, a close-up of Knives' face reveals his eye, narrowed, bitter and distant. End ID.]

Ok. This set of panels gets me. There's so much ambiguity here. Knives is listening to the people enjoy the fruits of the labours of his sisters that humanity have been exploiting. The thing is... these things, a lot of them aren't exactly necessities. They're specifically engineering things to be close to what they had, which, while understandable (humans need enjoyment to survive. like that's real), it also begs the question of whether this kind of differentiation increases demand on the Plants beyond what is necessary for humans to take. Or maybe it doesn't. Maybe the differentiation is no more effort on the part of the Plants than the raw amount needed to live comfortably. It's hard to say, since we're seeing this through the filter of Knives' view, for whom any amount the humans take from Plants is too much. Anyways. It's interesting. ...I also think he looks painfully young in this panel, but maybe that's just me.

[ID: Knives stands before a headstone engraved with his name. He is just an eerily grinning silhouette, with his weapons curled and hooked over his head like a set of bladed wings. End ID.]

He is proud of his artwork. (Sorry lol)

"This Plant is going to be retired." <- uh. yikes. Way to avoid saying she's going to die.

"Deliberately go out of control" so wait. I'm confused. The Plant is going to go out of control at the end of her life cycle and they're harvesting what was going to happen anyways, or they deliberately push her to that point so that she goes out of control? What's happening here.

Hm. An angel arm type thing formed from what looks like her stomach... or maybe womb? I don't know but that's... hm. It's like it's their core or something. Like a reactor core. If that's the case then it being forced out of Vash like that is even more disturbing.

Her hair turned black. No. No hold on. Oh no.

[ID: A close up of Knives' face. His eyes have gone blank and lines from his Plant abilities are etched on his cheeks. End ID.]

Ohhh... remember how the blank eyes seem to show severe distress...? :(

Noooo oh my god. It's so much worse. Knives has been inadvertently killing Vash every time he activates his powers. AUGH

Local man just wanted to enjoy his noodles. Unfortunately his buddy is a trouble magnet and he keeps getting interrupted. Will he ever have the chance to finish his noodles in peace? hdjvbhdfvhjb

So Vash has been sneaking off to day drink apparently. Holy crap that panel is disturbing. Also it hurts me. My poor boy... :(

"Needle-noggin-isms" I'm screaming

Oh god he's so off in this fight. He's... he's actually drunk, isn't he...?

!!! Holy shit Vash's Plant abilities saved him automatically.

Oh fuck off with these people.

AUGH MERYLLLLL

I am in so much pain. Haha. Ha.

Ok ok but - does anyone other than Meryl know that she saw everything? Because Vash was totally out of it in that scene - it's not like he meant to transmit those flashbacks. I don't think anyone knows the full extent of what Meryl saw. So, when she has a panic attack and flinches away from him... he completely misunderstands. He thinks it's because she sees him as a monster; that she's scared of him. But that's not true! Meryl has done nothing but be concerned for him! And yes, it was terrifying, and yes, she's scared, but she cares about him! As a person! But I think Vash perceived this as a rejection. And all he can do is apologize. (Augh and the parallel to Hoppered and the woman with the blinded eyes who panicked when being touched...) STOP THIS NOW THIS HURTS

The little kid defending Vash... not old enough yet for fear to overtake reason... :')

I feel like Elendira is just here to see how things go down. She's here for a good time, not a long time.

TESLA MENTION.

Rem is so silly. <3

Baby Knives wants so badly to be liked and accepted... augh.

The contrast between "Do you think we can become friends with them?" and "Yeah... it might take a lot of effort though." Ooh. Many thoughts.

[hphmmatthewluther]

Bringing Good Tidings, Part 2: Childermass Goes Awry

Here's my first part of this collab between me and @endlessly-cursed ! Apologies for the slight delay! Continuing from her last post, we rejoin Lachlann and Henriette as strange goings-on begin to threaten the holiday...

(Featuring ocs from @endlessly-cursed , @camillejeaneshphm , and @that-scouse-wizard )

The next few days passed with much merriment from those in attendance, though Lachlann continued to worry about the nagging feeling that he was about to be caught off guard by something. As he mingled with the other guests, he was able to pass off any of his nervous glances as “Serf’s Intuition”, which always got a polite laugh from the other guests. But, of course, there was one person he couldn’t keep it hidden from. His wife, Mathilde, looked up at him in a way that only someone who’d studied his entire biology to know how best to poison him could know.

“What is it?” she asked at one point late on the 27th of December, the children already in bed by now (if not asleep, at least in their bedroom). “Is it about the Lord of Misrule business in a couple of days? I doubt you of all people would find it too humiliating, you always have been quite good at dismissing any funny looks.”

“It’s not that.” Lachlann said bluntly, shaking his head for a moment before shuffling closer. “And it’s not even about who that Lord of Misrule is going to be…if anything, I wish that were the explanation…”

“But it’s not, is it?” Mathilde raised an eyebrow at her husband. “You don’t get nervous when dealing with Betwixt. More…mildly irritated.”

“Can you blame me? They cursed our bloodline because of what happened back then…and whenever it comes up I try to tell them how I tried to find another way, but…”

Mathilde placed her hand on his shoulder. “You really can be quite stubborn sometimes. It would take a miracle to get Betwixt to like you, so I suggest moving on. Even they’ve learnt to do that, from what I’ve heard.”

“Oh yeah, that Spaniard woman they married. I honestly can’t believe they settled down after the strop they pulled when Hen- what?”

Mathilde pointed to the woman standing in the door, who had a friendly smile on her face as if recognising Lachlann’s utter embarrassment. “You are somewhat right, Lam.” Henriette began, walking forward and sitting down with the other two. “Betwixt never was one for mortal traditions…or monogamy. Still, they took the time they needed, met a nice immortal, and now they’ve got a family. In fact, I hear that Lady Sancha is expecting her 4th child, hence why Betwixt is only coming for one day.”

“Oh, how lovely for them!” Mathilde exclaimed, Lachlann detecting no amount of her normal snark. “The child must be due soon, in that case.”

“Quite soon, I imagine so, yes.” Henriette confirmed. “Seeing them will be a wonderful change from the routine of these feasts…not to mention tomorrow.”

“Don’t remind me.” Mathilde chuckled, looking over at the corridor that led to their children’s room. “How do your children deal with it? I think Caitílin is just about growing out of being fully terrified by it now, like Sam and Simone are, and Fèlix is still too young to fully understand what’s happening, bless him.”

Henriette smiled as Mathilde recounted their children. “I’d say it’s the same with us, yes. It’s always interesting to see who tries to act all tough and unafraid and who still voices their fears. Speaking of, we ought to get our sleep if we want to be ready for the Mass tomorrow. Still, it’s only for one day. How bad could it be?”

Lachlann bit his tongue and refused to comment on how dangerous it was to ask questions like that. “I suppose we’ll see. Goodnight, Henriette.”

Henriette made her way back to her room, where her husband Frederick was already sleeping. She didn’t blame him, considering how restless the children could get during Childermass. She laid down next to him, shuffling close. As she closed her eyes, she found herself thinking about Lachlann and Mathilde. To say they weren’t a traditional couple was something of an understatement, after all, he was a former serf and she was a former assassin who’d been tasked with killing him. They talked and acted like all the other couples in attendance, of course, but then there were moments when they’d mention what happened during the Mage Wars, and it was obvious how it had given them such a different perspective. They seemed almost untouchable, seeing as most other nobles were terrified of this new clan, too afraid to try to interfere with their matters. This was where Henriette’s mind settled as she drifted off: that her role in maintaining a noble family was one thing, but to get one started was an entirely different beast.

***

The morning silence was broken by the sounds of bickering from the next room. Lachlann leant forward, gently moving Mathilde’s arm from his side, giving her a brief kiss on the forehead. “I’ll handle it, darling.”

Mathilde hummed in relief, trailing her hand down his chest as she settled back in the bed. “Bless you, Lam.” she whispered, Lachlann smiling for a moment before getting dressed and heading out into the other room. Inside, he instinctively took a head count of his children. Caitílin, the oldest, was currently trying to force Fèlix, still very much an infant, into the arms of Sam, the second oldest. Simone, meanwhile, the second youngest, was seemingly content to watch this play out. Lachlann took a seat next to her, waiting for the others to notice him.

“Morning, Daddy.” Simone said, smiling up at him in that way all siblings do when they’re the one not in trouble.

“Morning, sweetie. What’s all the fuss about?” Lachlann whispered back. Simone simply chuckled and pointed to the others.

“It’ll be good for you!”

“I have no clue what I’m doing!”

“Time to learn, then! You’re inheriting the Line, after all.”

“Line, Line!” Fèlix laughed, clearly enjoying the rocking motion, before looking up and seeing “Daddy!”

Caitílin and Sam looked up and finally noticed their father, both stepping back leaving Fèlix staggering in the middle for a moment before Lachlann caught him, picking him up and holding him.

“All up and early, I see. Cait, didn’t your mother say it was your job today to look after your brother?”

“But why? If I’m not inheriting the Line, surely I shouldn’t have those responsibilities!” She said, sounding out the longer words in a way that suggested they weren’t originally hers.

“But I don’t know how to do all of it!” Sam pleaded.

“Neither do I, but you have to do it anyway.” Caitílin said, as if that ended the matter, her face dropping when she saw Lachlann’s expression, which made it very clear that it didn’t.

Lachlann cleared his throat. “Here, Sam. I’d like you to take your brother over to your mother’s room and she’ll get you something to eat. Simone can help you. Can you do that for me?” 

Sam thought out the process in his head, before nodding. “Yep! I can do that!” Simone looked over and nodded as well.

“Excellent. Now, Caitílin, out here please.” Lachlann said, pointing to the balcony overlooking the snow-covered fields. The youngest three Doherty children looked at each other, shrugged, and left the two in the room. 

They walked over to the balcony, Caitílin sighing as she leant against the wall. “I’m the only one who can see over the wall, the others need me to lift them up.” she said, proudly.

Lachlann smiled at her, before looking out over the fields. “Cait, where’d you hear about all this line stuff?”

She shrugged, tracing a pattern in the snow that had fallen onto the very edge of the wall. “Dunno. One of the other children at the feasts was talking about how since he’s the oldest and a man he gets to inherit the Line of his family.”

Lachlann nodded, understanding perfectly. “And you thought that meant we’d be giving this “Line” to Sam instead.”

Caitílin looked up at him. “Well, aren’t you?! You need a strong line to keep the family going, and that means choosing someone suitable. Well, I’m far more capable at most things than Sam, and I actually want to do it!”

Lachlann shook his head. “Cait, you do realise what a Line is, right? It’s a continued legacy going all the way back through noble families, all the history and betrayal and fighting.” He traced a line in the snow, all along the windowsill. Then, at one end of the line, he put a very tiny dot.  “We…don’t really have a Line yet. Your mother and I are the first Dohertys. That’s what you and Sam have been bickering about.”

Caitílin leant over, staring at the little dot in the snow. “...That’s our Line? That’s all it is.”

Lachlann nodded. “Pretty much, yeah. Not so important now, right?”

She shrugged, leaning back from the wall. “I guess not. Can we get breakfast?”

He smiled, taking his daughter by the hand. “Of course. Come on, let’s go and find the others.”

They left the room only to hear more yelling from the others, though this time it was not bickering.

“Mum, Dad! Look! It’s the Lord of Misrule!” came the yelling.

“On Childermass?” Caitílin asked, confused. Lachlann, however, looked more afraid. 

“Cait…don’t let go of my hand.”

***

For Henriette and Frederick, the morning seemed oddly quiet. She’d been expecting more arguments between Juliana and Denefigu. But no, there was nothing. At least not until there was a loud knocking at the door. Frederick shuffled in his sleep, clearly assuming it was one of the kids, but it was far too heavy for that. Henriette moved out of bed and got dressed quickly before opening the door, seeing someone who definitely was not one of her children. They were dressed in an incredibly odd costume, consisting of a large green overcoat, matching stockings, a bright gold and silver-covered shirt, and an olive wreath wrapped around a large jester-like hat. It could only be the Lord of Misrule, and that meant…

“Betwixt?” Henriette asked, surprised, watching them breathing heavily as if they had run all the way here. 

The Monarch of the Changelings looked up at her, nodding. “A-Apologies…M-Merry Christmas, I…I wish I could say I’m here early for a good reason.”

“I’ll say. It’s Childermass, you know, the day when all the kids are hiding, hoping Herod’s ghost doesn’t come back and get them.” Henriette explained.

“Yes, that’s what I mean.” Betwixt said. “But that’s Catholic tradition. While that and the Fae sometimes are intertwined…and by that I mean they stole from us and our worshippers….sometimes there are differences. Childermass is one of them, and it means that we have to go now.”

Henriette nodded, suddenly aware of how deafening the silence was. “Explain, Betwixt. If something has happened to my children…”

“Your children will be fine, I’m sure…provided we hurry and deal with this as quickly as we can and get them back inside before it’s too late.” Betwixt held out their hand to her. “Come on, we’ll Apparate.”

Henriette looked back at her husband. “Darling, there’s a bit of a problem. Get dressed and meet us down there, alright?” Turning to Betwixt, they took their hand. “How’s life now you’ve settled down, then?”

Betwixt couldn’t help but smile. “It doesn’t feel like settling down, I’ll tell you that much.” With a loud crack, they were gone, as Frederick prepared to bring certain non-magical elements to the fray.

They arrived outside in the snow, Betwixt taking a moment to adjust their tall hat as they surveyed the frost-covered area. “There!” they exclaimed, pointing out at a group of children surrounding someone who was wearing identical clothes to Betwixt, albeit with a strange mask covering the face. The two set off through the snow, their path bringing them past the castle gates. As they ran past, Lachlann and Caitílin emerged. Lachlann saw Betwixt. Betwixt saw Lachlann. The two slowed as they approached each other.

“Don’t tell me you think I’m responsible for this?” Betwixt asked incredulously.

“I wasn’t sure at first. I heard the Lord of Misrule was here on Childermass of all days, and you’re dressed as him, and we all know you’re not exactly a fan of Christian traditions like these.”

“I most certainly am not, that’s true.” Betwixt said, shrugging. “But even I am not enough of a fool to mess with the bizarre magicks of the Yuletide season. However…it would seem that someone is.” They pointed over at the other Lord of Misrule. The two looked back at each other for a moment, before sharing a brief nod, sprinting towards the False Lord.

Henriette followed closely behind, finding herself next to Caitílin. The eldest Doherty looked up at her. “Merry Christmas, Lady Henriette!”

“Merry Christmas, my dear child.” Henriette responded, noticing her children near the Lord. “Though it would seem someone is conspiring to take that merriment away.”

Eventually, they arrived before the False Lord, the children looking very confused as to why there were now two Lords of Misrule. The Fake looked like they were about to say some in-character nonsense to keep the children entranced, but only managed to get out “Well, well, well-” before Lachlann and Henriette blasted them with their wands, Lachlann using a lightning spell and Henriette using an orange and red hex that burned through the air like a flame. The Fake skidded through the snow for a moment before coming to a stop.

Betwixt blinked a few times. “Hmm. I’ll have to tone down what I had planned.” they muttered to themselves. “Still, we are in luck. For a second there I thought the real Lord of Misrule was there, and…” they paused, looking around at the children. “But that couldn’t be right, because I am the real Lord of Misrule!” they began, before catching themselves. “Apologies. It is still Childermass.”

The Fake slowly got to their feet, their mask having fallen away. Lachlann squinted at the face for a moment before raising a moment. “Hang on a second…weren’t you one of the Silver Kingdom’s Royal Advisors?”

The other changeling’s face contorted until the eyes were blank and the skin pale. “I assumed you wouldn’t recognise me, seeing as you were so callous with destroying our home. I am indeed Advisor Pridestone, and do excuse me Monarch, but I thought it fitting to try and teach these insipid mortals a lesson.”

Betwixt had their hand in their arms. “Oh, god, Pridestone, this does not help matters. Firstly, I have already dealt with enacting revenge on Lord Doherty, which means you don’t need to do it, nor do you need to get Lady Henriette’s family involved too.”

Pridestone sneered at her. “She worked with those abhorrent sorcerers that sealed our Kingdom, and helped build a school on top of it!”

Henriette simply sighed. “I apologise if my actions displeased you, my good sir. But I find your method of dealing with grievances to be rather heavy-handed and crude. Not to mention unoriginal, seeing as we all heard of the fascinating tale of a Piper in Hamelin who did something rather similar.”

Pridestone floundered for a moment, their blank eyes staring daggers at Henriette. “Crude?! Unoriginal?! How dare a mortal speak to me like that, I-”

They took a step forward, but were repelled by two more volleys from Lachlann and Henriette. Pridestone went flying into the snow, landing headfirst. Before anyone could say another word, the children erupted into a chorus of cheers, crowding Lachlann and Henriette as Pridestone got up and fled the scene. Lachlann found his own children had made their way closest to him.

“Dad! That was amazing!” Sam yelled, holding Fèlix in his arms who had taken to yelling “Dad! Dad!” over and over. Lachlann picked Fèlix up, nodding at all of his children, watching as Henriette did the same to those that were hers. At this point, a crowd of the other parents were coming out too, Mathilde and Frederick at the very front. But at that moment Lachlann’s eyes were on Betwixt, and their eyes were on the trees of the area, which formed a large forest. Mist seemed to be falling in. Betwixt turned to Lachlann.

“We played right into their hands.” they said, scowling. “I told you, bad things can happen when certain magical energies mix…Let’s just hope it goes away, and we can enjoy the festivities in peace…well, relative peace.”

Caitílin tugged on Lachlann’s arm, grinning, all thoughts of inheritance and family lines forgotten. “This is the best Childermass ever! Why couldn’t we do this every year?”

Lachlann shrugged, ruffling her hair, though he had a nasty feeling that by the end of this they were about to find out why exactly that was.

[iciatheguardess]

Changing Voices, Part 2 lol

Aoki!

Aoki is split into two warring groups of code/writing, which kind of bicker over who gets control. These personalities/protocols are generally referred to as “The Comforter”/“Aoki”, and “The Depths”/occasionally “Aokigahara”, although his full name goes back and forth sometimes, because it kind of refers to both as a collective.

This is usually shown via his appearance and mannerisms:

Aoki/The Comforter is stuttery, lacks confidence, tends to apologize a lot, and gets overwhelmed easily. He cares a ton for everyone he loves, and the empathy sometimes backlashes similarly to how Dusk’s empathy hurts her. He’s expressive and sweet, and wears usually very comfy but somewhat formal clothing. His speech patterns are soft-spoken and polite, bordering on formal at times, but always genuine. He smiles most of the time, but when Aoki cries, it’s full of haunting wails and sobs that tear his vocal cords. His preferred weapon is a halberd.

The Depths is mournful, and always cries in silence. His default expression is quiet and solemn, and he almost never smiles at all. His voice is slow and paced, his speech patterns extremely formal and often rehearsed. He cares much for everyone he loves, but does not really know how to show it besides his “mercy”. He wears very formal clothing and his voice sounds dull and whispery, almost like he’s moments from death at any time, or even some kind of ghost. His preferred weapon is a boxcutter.

The best example of these two personalities working together is when Aoki fights. He switches between boxcutter and halberd depending on the situation, and can be both solemn and cold while also being cheery and sweet. Aoki will actually SNARK while in battle (“I am genuinely surprised that you thought intimidation would FLUSTER me of all things.”) because the two sides of him can do that when they work together. Otherwise, they tend to take turns affecting him more, the Depths protocol really kicking in when he’s faced with the decision of killing or sparing someone. That’s why he crashed during the Mix scene: “FILE CONFLICT DETECTED”. His code itself contradicts itself regularly, causing him to flicker back and forth between “I will freeze you to death” and “why on earth would I kill anyone?!”. This tends to cause him a lot of internal turmoil, obviously. It probably won’t be resolved until he accepts both sides and his code is fixed, probably by himself.

That flickering and crashing makes so much sense omg

Poor guy

[alondradina]

The beginning of Domaystic 2023!

Day 1: Housewarming

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle

Rating: T

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46893625

-

Harry wasn't sure what he had expected of Hogwarts university, but the reality was better than he had dreamed. Hermione would have told him it was because he lacked imagination — which was rich considering how much effort she had to put into art and creative writing in high school — but he knew the real issue was that he'd had so few good experiences in life.

"What d'ye think?" Ron asked, shifting the box of Harry's belongings he was carrying.

Harry looked around the ground floor of the dorm he'd be living in for his Freshman year. It was comfortably worn in, but not threadbare or in poor repair. It just looked like what he thought a home should be. The carpets were a warm maroon with flattened trails where students walked. The wooden walls glowed dully in the subdued lighting.

He had grown up in the Dursley's house; white and beige with gray accents. There were no fingerprints, no squeaky steps, no muddy welcome mats. Harry himself had ensured that. He had spent years slaving away in that house. It was strange to think that someone else would be cleaning here.

"It's nice… real nice," Harry finally answered. He shrugged at Ron's incredulous look. "Kinda like your place."

Ron wrinkled his nose. "I don't know about your house, but most people don't think mine is great."

"It's a home. People live there. People who love each other. That's better than what I had."

Rolling his eyes, Ron gestured towards the line of people waiting for the elevator. "We doing that, or going up the stairs?"

"It's only one floor up. We can do that."

"You'd hope so," Ron grumbled, leading the way towards the door marked 'stairs,' "Mad eye keeping us running all summer and all."

"Coach Moody has a point, you know. Not going to win if we don't have any stamina."

Ron scoffed in response.

The carpet on the stairs was not nearly as worn as the lobby, and Harry had the feeling people avoided taking them. Their loss, he thought; only just now hearing the elevator head back downstairs.

"What's the apartment number?" Ron hollered over his shoulder, opening the stairwell door and stepping through without holding it for his friend.

Harry rolled his eyes and pulled it open — juggling the two boxes he was carrying — and followed after. "Two oh three."

"That's convenient. It's right here."

Harry shifted to look around his friend. His apartment was one over from the stairs, which was, indeed, convenient. "Guess I will take the stairs then."

"Your funeral."

The elevator dinged and a few people stepped out. One of them was Hermione. She was animatedly speaking with a dark haired boy, who was listening with cool politeness; face blankly staring until she glanced over at him. His dark eyes briefly met Harry's when Hermione pointed him out.

"Harry!" She called, grinning her familiar bucktoothed smile. Trotting down the hall, she quickly gestured between the boys. "The tall redhead is Ron, and the other is Harry. This is Tom"

"A pleasure," Tom intoned, tone as neutral as his smile.

"He's the other scholarship winner!" Hermione exclaimed.

"So another know-it-all?" Ron snarked, rolling his eyes at Hermione's glare. "Nice to meet you or whatever, but we're here to help Harry drop his shit off, remember?"

Hermione frowned. "You're being rude, Ronald. I'm not the late one."

"The apartment is right here, Hermione," Harry interrupted, pointing his shoulder at the door.

A flicker of something crossed Tom's face before he held up a key labeled 203. "That's my apartment."

"Oh. Guess you guys are roommates," Hermione smiled, stepping back so Tom could unlock the door.

Tom gave him a quick once over, and Harry fought the urge to flinch. He plastered a fake smile on his face, wishing he had bothered to wear more presentable clothes. He hadn't expected his roommate to be so standoffish and critical.

"Your stuff already in there?" Harry inquired as Tom politely held the door open for them.

"Yes."

"Didn't know they gave the keys out any earlier than noon."

"I had extenuating circumstances."

"Like what?" Ron demanded, thunking Harry's box onto the kitchen counter.

"None of your business," Tom answered calmly. He paused at a nearby door and locked eyes with Harry. "This is my room."

Harry shrugged. "Sounds good."

Tom nodded and gave Hermione a neutral smile again. "A pleasure to meet you, Hermione. I'm sure I will see you around."

"We have a lot of the same classes," Hermione agreed, ignoring Ron as he made faces. "We should study together sometime."

"Perhaps," Tom allowed. He shot Harry another inscrutable look before opening his door and stepping inside. "Have a good afternoon."

Ron snorted as the door closed. "Good afternoon? Who is this freak?"

"Ron!" Hermione scolded, crossing her arms and glaring.

"What? He's acting all hoity toity," Ron turned to face Harry. "Offer still stands for you to stay with us."

"Where's he going to sleep, Ron?" Hermione scoffed, "at the foot of your bed?"

He flushed a brilliant red and scowled. "We'll get one of those inflatable beds or something."

"If I wanted to live with someone else, I would have taken Sirius' offer," Harry pointed out, setting his boxes on the counter next to the one Ron had carried. "I want to do my own thing for a while."

"With someone like him?"

Hermione aimed a kick at Ron's shin, who easily dodged it. "There's nothing wrong with Tom. I'm sure he will be an excellent roommate."

"You would think that-"

Harry rolled his eyes and decided to ignore their argument in favor of examining his new home. Immediately to the left of the entrance was the kitchenette.

Against the wall there was a white countertop — a microwave and an electric kettle taking up most of the space — and a single sink. The cabinets underneath were medium brown with golden knobs. A mini fridge stood off to the side.

Past that was a small brown table with two matching chairs. The room then opened up into a medium sized living room with a maroon loveseat in the middle. A small TV stand with a 32' TV sat in front of it. There were two bookshelves on opposite sides. Directly across from Tom's room was another door.

"What's in there?" Ron asked.

Hermione snorted. "I assume it's Harry's room."

"She's right," Harry said, stepping in. The room was about the same size as Dudley's second bedroom, but much more open without all of his cousin's trash. There was a brown three drawer dresser to his right, and a bare twin sized bed to his left. A desk sat under the only window.

"Pretty bare," Ron commented, peering over Harry's shoulder.

"We'll have to go shopping," Hermione agreed.

"There's some stuff over here," Harry said, opening the closet that was right behind the bedroom door. Inside there were sheets, blankets, and pillows, sitting beside a laundry shoot.

"They clean your laundry here?" Hermione inquired.

Harry shrugged. "I think just the bedding and stuff. Not personal laundry."

"Better than me," Ron sighed. "The twins said I have to do their laundry and stuff, since they're letting me stay for free."

"That seems fair," Hermione said, moving out of the way so the boys could exit. "What next?"

"Unpack?" Harry suggested, glancing at Tom's closed door. "You think he's going to stay in there?"

"You wanted to do your own thing," Ron pointed out grumpily. "Easy to do if you never see the guy."

"I suppose…"

"He'll come out eventually," Hermione said decisively, already at the counter with Harry's boxes. "Is there any organization to this? What goes where?"

A few hours later — half an hour spent on dispersing Harry's sparse belongings and the remaining time spent going to various stores — the three of them leaned against the kitchen counter and surveyed their work.

"Well, it looks like someone lives here now," Ron said, staring at his phone.

Hermione smiled at Harry. "Think this will work for you?"

"Yeah," he smiled back, "better than it would have been without you guys."

"My brothers want to come over. They said they'll bring a pizza; have a little party."

"That's not such a good-"

"Not right now, Ron," Harry protested. "I haven't gotten a chance to talk to Tom yet."

"About what? Having friends over?" Ron scoffed. "He can't tell you no."

"That's not the point, Ronald," Hermione interrupted. She shushed him when he opened his mouth. "The point is that it's rude to just throw parties without checking. It's Tom's home as well."

"Well, he can have his friends over sometime. If he has friends."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Maybe another time, Ron. I'm not going to spring the twins on him with no warning. I have to live with this guy."

"Already said you don't HAVE to," Ron grumbled, shoving his phone in his back pocket. "You could still come live with us."

"I want to stay here. I like this dorm and I like being on campus."

"It'll be fine," Hermione said, with a special glower for Ron. Checking her phone, she raised her eyebrows at Harry. "You ok with us going, then? I want to get to my dorm, and I'm sure Ron has something he needs to do as well."

"I do? Shit!" Ron winced when Hermione kicked his shin. "I guess I do have to go; somewhere far from her."

"Ronald!"

Harry escorted the bickering pair to the elevator and waited with them until the door closed. Sighing, he returned to his dorm.

Tom leaned against the wall between his room and the bathroom. The electric kettle was on, and Harry could hear the water beginning to boil.

Tom raised an eyebrow at Harry. Gesturing towards the Hogwarts football banner on the wall, he inquired, "Are you a player, or just a fan?"

"A player," Harry cautiously answered. He had been leery of decorating their shared space, but even Hermione had thought having a school poster up would be alright. "For the Gryffindor team."

Tom's aristocratic face formed a sneer more naturally than it did a smile. The kettle's whistle distracted him from whatever he had been planning on saying. Striding across the room — brushing past Harry so closely that he stumbled back into the wall — Tom pulled a mug from one of the cabinets and filled it. He pulled a tea packet out of a white box, set it into the mug, and set a timer on his phone.

Harry stood still, warily watching his roommate. Tom seemingly ignored him, though, and Harry relaxed enough to step away from the wall. When that elicited no reaction, he took another step towards the kitchen. Tom didn't look up until his timer went off, and he'd pulled the teabag from the mug.

Harry cleared his throat as Tom took a pensive sip; eyeing him over the top of his mug. "So, Tom-"

Tom set his tea down and stepped into Harry's space, backing him into the counter. "You may keep your poster, but do not decorate anywhere else from now on."

"That's fair-" Harry began, pressing as far into the cabinets as he could.

Tom used the few inches of height he had over Harry to loom. "I appreciate that you sent your companions away. There will be no parties here."

Harry scoffed, meeting Tom's unblinking stare. "You can't say no to my friends coming over."

"There is a difference between having friends over and throwing a party," Tom pointed out calmly, before returning to his tea. Taking a slow sip, examining Harry the whole time, Tom swallowed and pushed away from the counter. "But I'm sure we will work it out."

"I guess…" Harry said, keeping his body turned to Tom's as the other boy returned to his room.

Pausing halfway through the doorway, Tom lifted his cup in a friendly salute. "Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight," Harry replied, but Tom's door was already closed.

[shoot-the-oneshot]

Hate the way

Basic off the song from Purple Hearts Hate the way

enemies to lovers lyrics in purple Pierre Gasly x reader  The one where you and Pierre hate each other, until you don’t

“Please be nice.” Sasha your media consultant begged as she lead you to the media room, by her words you already knew who would be there. Pierre Gasly, has hated you since day one. Part of you understood why, he thinks you took the Redbull seat from him, as a driver he should know that’s not how it works.

“I’m always nice,” Seeing the man in question sitting for the panel you inwardly groaned seeing your name next to his. “Pierre,” you drawled, making his jaw clench and exhale harshly out of his nose. While you smirked at how easy it was to piss him off he once mentioned how he hated the way you said his name, so you did it every chance you got.

Lewis seeing the rising tension offered to switch seats with you, which you politely declined, “No thanks Lewis, but I appreciate it,” at you words the Frenchmen huffed again, making you glare. “What hate the way i say his name too Pierre?”

‘I hate the way you do a lot of things Y/n.” He drawled your name out like you do his making your eyes narrow, his team principal has already gotten onto him many times about his behavior but his control and patience disappeared when you were around.  

Pierre cursed as the elevator doors opened showing you inside, deciding he could tolerate the short ride over waiting for the next one he stepped in standing as far away from you as he could get, folding his arms over his chest.

“I hate the way you say my name” he spoke as you tried to pretend he wasn’t there. “I know”

“Then why do you do it?” He growled through gritted teeth, getting angrier as you smiled. “Because you hate it.”

He doesn’t know where it came from but for a second Charles words from earlier repeated in his head, ‘you guys just need to fuck it out.’ Worth a shot, hate sex was always the best anyways, scanning your body his lips pulled into a smirk, not the normal look of distain you’re used to seeing on his face.

“And if i said i hate your ‘picture perfect lips’ on mine?” He asked quoting part of an article about you. Little did he know you had the same idea as he did. And that’s how you both ended up in his hotel room clothes thrown carelessly, his kiss was all teeth as your nails dug into his back. Moaning his name when he bit the soft spot on your neck leaving a mark. The noise making him grind harder into you.

“That’s it say my name” he panted against your neck, no amount of pleasure would be enough to not take that shot. “Don’t hate the way i say your name now do you.”

“Y/n so glad you made it!” Daniel shouted informing the other drivers of your arrival, Daniel threw parties after every Australian Grand Prix it always ended with the drivers way to wasted to leave so it turned into a sleep over really. And now almost all twenty drivers were spread around Dans house, you were leaned up ageant the wall separating the kitchen and living room laughing as Daniel tried to convince everyone to do a shoey, you tensed up feeling someone breathing on your neck.

“Someone has been a bad girl.” Pierre hummed, you scoffed not answering. Since that night in the elevator you had both had a enemies with benefits situation, now pissing each other off was almost forplay. “Oh not talking? You had a lot to say earlier.” By earlier he means the grill the grid video of who’s most likely, and beacause you were the only woman you got the question who you were most likely to date, all the boys laughed some raising their hand to volunteer. Unknowing pissing Pierre off for a reason he didn’t know, but not more than your following words did.

“Charles probably.” Throwing him a wink for extra effect. “What not me?” He couldn’t stop himself from asking.  Leaning over to look him in the eye seeing the same challenging look he gave you when he snarked off. “If I could I’d cut the breaks on your car.” You deadpanned, luckily for you F1 edited that part out, but you still got scolded.

You dont know when or how it happened but suddenly your enemies to benefits changed a bit, you still got on each other nerves but now that’s not all of your conversations. He learned you had a soft spot for puppies and now always sends you pictures of cute ones he sees on his runs, or how you learned to tell when he got homesick and you found yourself cursing in your head walking out of a small French bakery you found in Canada and bringing him fresh croissant.

He didnt let you leave after you dropped those off instead showing you how much he appreciated it and fed them to you in bed the next morning, that was the first time you stayed through the night.

things shifted then and now instead of sneaking out in the night you woke up to Pierres arms wrapped around you more often than not, when you tried to sneak out fearing what this meant he mumbled still half asleep pulling you in, “Don’t leave.”   you hate the way you can’t help but stay all night.

“Seriously mate you won’t even look at her, i know you guys have that love hate relationship but come on.” Charles scolded, when Pierres head dipped the second you walked through the doors of the bar the crew and drivers practically took over. Smile still shining from your podium today, he wondered if he could taste the champagne on your skin you were sprayed with if he just got close enough. He shook his head, looking from you to his best friend. “You’ve got it all wrong, if i look to long i’ll never look away.”

“Let me take you to dinner.” Pierre whispered not to disturb the soft air the room held laying on his side with his head propped on his hand eyes set on you.

“I dont do dates.” Was your response everytime he tried. He was getting a little sick of it. Everyone has noticed you weren’t at each other’s throats anymore but you refused to give up.

One night after to many drinks and sweet caresses he pulled the true reason out of you, you were hurt by your ex and refused to try again how you never gave up in racing but did in love confused and hurt him equally.

“And what do you call what we do?” He asked genuinely curious, he’s tried to get a label out of you for months and you always ran away. “Give me a chance to save you from your past.” He practically begged, grabbed your hand in his when you pulled away and started to find your clothes. “Babe I wasn’t praying for a saving grace,” unfolding your fingers “let’s go back to nothing.” Were your last words before going out the door.  

Finally summer break hit normally you’d be climbing the walls to get back to driving but not driving means not seeing Pierre, which you haven’t since you left him in his hotel room. You didnt know why you were upset its what you wanted no strings, how did your biggest enemy become something different.

Sasha had noticed your down behavior and you spilled the beans, surprisingly making her laugh. “I’m spilling my heart out and you’re laughing!”

“Sorry sorry just Miss, i hate Pierre and i’ll never date a driver is talking about said driver like its a love song.” And she was right. you hate the way you say words you laughed at before

Two races passed the break and you refused to speak to him despite his unwavering attempts, he was furious that you could just turn your shoulder and act like he wasn’t there after everything he thought meant something between you two, but that didn’t stop his heart from stopping at the news coming over the radio.

He slowed his car and weaved the spun out Redbull as a McLaren practically shoved it purposely off the track into the gravel making it flip into the barrier landing upside down. “Who was it?” He asked when they called red flag immediately after. “Y/n.”

His lost all the air in his lungs when he heard your name, flashes of every life threatening crash going through his head but picturing it being you made him spin his Alpha Tauri and weave between the oncoming cars back to the crash.

‘No no no’ Speaking to himself a he saw smoke. “Pierre safty car is in route please get back to the paddock.” Ignoring his radio he jumped out of the car and ran to your flipped one.

“Y/n!” He yelled crawling under your car seeing you handing from your straps. Reaching up to release them and catch you but he gets pulled out by his feet. “Let me fucking go!” He struggled against the marshals holding him back as the medic pulled you out and onto a gurney which he quickly followed to the nearby ambulance not taking no for an answer as he climbed in not leaving your side.

When you woke up he was still there not even leaving to change out of his suit. “Y/n.” He sighed in relief, pressing his forehead against yours, after explaining what happened you were more worried about him than yourself. “You shouldn’t have done that you’re going to be in so much trouble.” He just fondly shook his head.

“All i was thinking about was you, all i ever think about is you, my thoughts aren’t mine now their yours.”

Your phone dinged for the tenth time since you and Charlotte left the boys at the villa, making her laugh. “He’s smitten its so cute,” she awed. You sighed checking your phone seeing two selfies he sent one smiling with the text. “My face when i think of you’ and the next him pouting. ‘When i realize you’re not here’ Texting back,

‘I just left you can’t miss me already’                        

     ‘I do, do you not miss me?’

‘No’                                                                          

‘You think you cool when you pretend I’m not always in your head’    

‘You’re not.’                                                                              

‘Don’t lie.’

‘Maybe a little’

One lost seat. One elevator ride and a wild night. One season, and One new world champion later, your championship trophy sat centered on your kitchen island as you longingly stared at it still not believing you actually won it and made history. Pierre snuck a picture and posted it to Instagram with the caption. ‘She won the championship but she’s in my kitchen, who’s the real winner’

Pierre slid in behind you wrapping his arms around your waist, “I Remember when you looked at me like that.” He joked making you pull you attention away from the trophy and spin to face him. “Please i never looked at you like that.” You teased making him dramatically clutch his chest over his heart.

“Go ahead give the award your heart!” His eyes lighting up at your giggles pulling him back towards you by the collar of his shirt brushing your nose against his. “You know my heart isn’t mine now its yours.”

Hope you guys liked it let me know what you thought dont forget to check out the F1 romance trope series  coming out next sunday!!!!

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