#thanks for giving me an excuse to write them

[starsinthesky5]

why do you like me so much then? || joe burrow x reader

description: why do you like him so much? everything you said made him sound like a lackluster boyfriend, so why did you like him so much?

a/n: this is either really bad, chaotic, all over the place, or just yapping. sorry. the fact that this was supposed to be a blurb?? yeah. i cannot write blurbs LOL.

thanks to @joeyb1989 and my anons for giving me inspo for this! and to joe with that sexy, bratty eyebrow raise that I can never move on from

word count: 9.2 k

warnings: angstttt, smutttt, fluff

————————————————

3 hours. That's how long it took you to get ready tonight.

You spent an uncharacteristic amount of time carefully positioning each strand of your hair, ensuring that each piece was perfectly curled and set. You made sure every piece of jewelry from your delicate necklaces to your sparkling earrings and bracelets, all of which were gifted by your boyfriend, shimmered in the warm light and reflected a soft glow. Each stroke of makeup had to look flawless to complete the look, your eye shadow blending in seamlessly as you perfected your small winged eyeliner. The silk sage green slip-on dress you wore–with a delicate lace trim–fit your body like a glove; highlighting every aspect of your beautiful figure perfectly. 

You looked amazing and you felt amazing for the first time in a long time. The past few weeks had been filled with strangeness and ambiguity and you were in desperate need of a change of pace. The strangeness came from how you and Joe had been a bit distant from each other lately, which was uncommon for you two. You were constantly attached at the hip, utterly fixated on each other to the point where the mere thought of being apart would lead to a state of misery and endless complaining. But this past month, you couldn’t be more disconnected from each other. Joe had been so wrapped up with football training this past month to the point where it felt like you two barely saw each other, and that didn't sit well with either of you. You always used to make so much time for each other no matter what, but recently it felt like you two stopped trying.

Every time you thought of planning something to do together such as a little lunch date at your favorite cafe, or a relaxed hike around the park, even just ordering takeout and eating together on the couch while watching a movie, it would always get moved or put off till the next week because Joe had something come up. Either it was more training (which was understandable), more brand shoots (somewhat understandable), or even because he wanted to hang out with the guys--completely not understandable. 

You were never the kind of girlfriend who would keep her boyfriend away from his friends, especially because you actually really liked Joe's friends and greatly appreciated the support they gave him, but when he started using them as an excuse to pass on spending time with you, that's when you became a bit bitter. You were the most understanding person when it came to the things Joe had going on in his life. You knew that he had a lot on his plate and couldn't always be fully present for you, but he always tried his best to be. Or at least he used to. 

Passing on training and brand-related work was hard, but passing on hanging out with his friends once or twice so he could go through with the plans he made with his girlfriend was fairly easy. 

It should be easy, right?

But Joe didn’t do that. He instead moved your plans to hang out with them, and that hurt. He said that you could do the lunch date, hike, or takeout food & movie evening later on, but that 'later' rarely came around. He would just get swamped with more things and you'd be so focused on your work that you couldn't bother to bring up the subject again. 

Joe noticed your increased irritation as well, but he just never said anything because he didn’t feel like it was anything serious, just you in a mood. He wasn't sure what made you so resentful all of a sudden, but he knew better than to argue with you about your sudden mood swings, especially because he knew there could be over 100 reasons for them and didn't really want to set you off even more by pointing it out. 

What Joe did notice was that you two hadn't had much one-on-one time like that recently–completely oblivious to the fact that's exactly why you were so bitter–so he decided to take the first step and offer to take you to dinner at the end of the week. You were so excited when he proposed the idea of going to dinner on Friday, looking forward to spending some much-needed quality time with the person you loved the most. He told you that he'd take you to this new steakhouse in Downtown Cincinnati and then he'd take you down to the banks so you two could lay against the grassy field and look up at the stars together, something you used to do every weekend during the off-season but something had slowly fizzled out as time went by and your weekends became a bit more intense. 

"Every star in the universe reminds me of how much I love you. You’re not just a part of my world; you are the center of my galaxy, and everything else revolves around the love we share," is what he told you the first time you went stargazing. Those special words have stuck with you ever since, especially the part about how you’re the center of his galaxy, but lately, it started to feel like the center of his galaxy had shifted to something other than you. You couldn't figure out when things shifted; those genuine, pacifying moments you two shared became scarily rare. In the back of your mind, you felt like you were losing him. Even though you weren't, it just felt like it, and that was the worst feeling out of them all. Nothing you did or he did made that thought go away. What you didn't or he didn't do is what made it worse. 

You were determined to use this date as a way to move things back on track in your relationship, hopefully even talking about how off things had been lately, so that’s why you dedicated an unusual three hours to primping and preparing. Despite your efforts to achieve perfection, Joe’s love for you was unwavering, regardless of your appearance. He adored your natural beauty, free of makeup, and cherished your tousled, messy hair. He found you just as enchanting in your old gray sweats and one of his worn-out college t-shirts that made you look oh-so tiny. You knew how indifferent he was to perfection, but you wanted everything to be excellent tonight, even if he didn't need it to be. You needed this. 

You were filled with anticipation as you imagined walking into the restaurant with him, the warmth of his hand in yours. You could almost taste the first sip of wine, feel the soft buzz it would bring, and sense the rush of emotions as you immerse yourself in the familiar and comforting bubble of your love for each other. You needed to feel that again so badly.

You took one final look in the mirror, "Damn, I look good. He’s going to love this," you whispered to yourself as your eyes navigated up and down your figure before giving yourself a small nod of approval and exiting the bathroom. You grabbed your white chanel handbag which was one of the many birthday gifts he had gotten you last month and made your way out of the shared bedroom and down the stairs, a big smile on your face as you were expecting an adorable, dressed, and ready Joe awaiting your arrival. But as you reached the last few steps, your smile dropped as you were met with the exact opposite. 

You were met with a Joe dressed in gray sweatpants and an old LSU tee whose back was facing you while he was sitting on the couch, had his headset on, and was playing video games on the TV. 

"Today is Friday, right?" you whispered to yourself as you pulled your phone to read the date, which showed that it was in fact Friday and you weren't crazy.

"Joe?" you called out as you slipped your phone back into your bag, slowly walking down the couple of steps you had left with a look of sheer confusion on your face. He didn't hear you, but you heard him.

"Aye, man. What the fuck?" he said loudly as he started aggressively pushing the buttons on his game controller. "How the hell did you get to level 10 when it's only been a week since the last time we played?".

His friends. He was playing with his friends. 

"Of course," you scoffed as you walked over to the living room where he was, throwing your handbag onto the dining table before calling out for him again. "Joe?.... Joeeeee?" you said louder from behind him, but he still didn't look back at you. 

"He has to be fucking ignoring me. There is no way his headset is this soundproof," you thought to yourself as you shook your head and walked around the couch to come into his view. 

Joe looked over and saw you walking towards him, his eyes giving you a quick once-over before settling on your soft eyes which had a slow burning fire behind them. "You look nice," he mumbled to you before looking back at the TV. While he may not have looked directly at you, his words were genuine–he couldn't help but admire your alluring beauty.

“....Thanks...,” you replied with a dubious tone. “Did you forget that it’s Friday?” you asked him as you looked over at the screen and then back down to him, no response yet again. 

“No, don’t go that way,” he warned his friends through the headset, completely ignoring what you just asked him.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you thought to yourself again.

“Joe? Hellooo?” you called out again but waved your hands for him to see you from the corner of his eye, which he did but didn’t say anything. You were becoming increasingly annoyed with his lack of attention towards you, especially since you knew he could see you and see that you were trying to get his attention. 

"Do you need something?" he finally asked as he moved one side of his headset off his ear, still too focused on the game and his friends to focus in on your conversation. 

"Do I need something? Yes, I fucking need something. I need my boyfriend to go on our date with me which he promised to take me on," you thought to yourself, wanting nothing more than to scream into a pillow.

"Baby, it's Friday," you took a deep breath and said, crossing your arms as you tried to prevent yourself from flipping out on him.

"Yeah, I know," he softly laughed, putting the headset back on again and going back to the game, not even bothering to wait and listen if you had anything else to say, which you did.

You were absolutely dumbfounded by his actions; it was clear that he was intentionally overlooking you. Joe knew you wouldn't bother him like this without a good reason, especially during his video game time with his high school buddies, so his behavior was completely unjustified. 

"Did he forget?" you thought to yourself, feeling your heart break a little at the thought. There was no way he forgot, right? He was the one who planned this date, how could he forget?

Your expression softened as you asked him, "Did you forget?". You didn't really want to hear his response because deep down, you already knew the answer. Admitting it meant that he actually forgot about you.

But you didn't need to hear his response because there was no response. 

You looked back and forth between him and the TV, seeing how he was practically looking right through you and pretending as if you weren’t standing there in the most date-night outfit ever. Joe was oblivious sometimes, but he wasn’t that oblivious.  

“Fuck this,” you mumbled, deciding to take matters into your own hands since he wasn't listening and didn't look like he was planning on listening. You walked over to the TV, grabbed the plug from the outlet behind it, and yanked it so hard that you could've pulled out the entire electrical system in the wall. 

"Y/N, what the hell?" you heard from behind you, as well as the sound of Joe taking his headset off and throwing it down onto the couch. 

"Oh, so now you acknowledge my presence?" you rolled your eyes and sighed heavily. 

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he asked you, his eyebrows furrowed as if he was genuinely confused. 

"What do you think? I called out your name like 4 times and got no response. Then when I actually got your attention, or I thought I did, you didn't even answer my question fully and brushed me off like I was just some girl," you said as you walked closer to him, the built-up bitterness inside of you begging to be released. 

"You're not just some girl," he shook his head. "You're my girlfri-," he began to say before you interrupted him. 

"Oh yeah? Then act like I am. I asked you a question and you completely ignored it and ignored me," you grumbled as you gave him a look that he instantly knew meant you were genuinely pissed off. 

"What do you mean? I did answer your question," he shrugged. 

"Fucking barely? I told you it was Friday and was hoping that would ring a bell but it didn't, and then I asked you if you forgot but you had already put your dumb fucking headset on and either didn't hear me or didn't want to hear me," you snarled, rolling your shoulders back as the tension in your body increased and put a strain on your upper body. 

"Ohhh, it's Friday? So what?" he sarcastically laughed while shaking his hands, then stood up and practically towered over you. You hated when he did this whenever you two got into a little disagreement, it felt like he was showing the power he had over you and made you feel 10 times smaller. 

"Are you serious?" you asked, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks and your eyes beginning to well up with tears. It wasn't sadness that caused the tears, but a deep sense of anger. 

"What did I forget hmm? Because I'm pretty sure that I already did the laundry, cleaned up the kitchen from lunch, ordered the groceries, and watered your plants outside," he asked, the bratty tone in his voice making you want to scream into a pillow and then proceed to hit him with said pillow. 

You felt your bottom lip tremble as your entire body felt a wave of sadness overpower the anger you were feeling. 

He really forgot. 

He didn't forget to do all the other things that weren’t that big of a deal, but what he did forget was the most important thing.

"Our...our date, Joe?" you choked out, feeling a tear fall from your eye it felt like the world went silent. "Our fucking date," you said again, this time with more anger in your voice, wiping the tear trail from your cheek. So much for your flawless makeup. 

Joe's heart immediately sank at the mention of the word 'date.' He had completely forgotten about the plans you had made, the plans he had made. How could he have forgotten something like this? He knew how important this date was; it was the first time in a long time that you two got to spend alone time together away from everything. Even though he never said it, he felt awful that each time you tried to plan something together, it was pushed back for some reason and never thought about again. 

His eyes softened as he realized why you were mad, "Y/N, I'm so sorry...I forgot," he said. 

You remained quiet for a few seconds, trying to calm yourself by taking a few deep breaths but that wasn't really working. "I shouldn't be surprised you forgot, you know? I've been practically invisible to you this past month," you scoffed, a few more tears falling from your eyes unknowingly. 

"Invisible?" Joe questioned, a bit taken aback by your harsh response. Yeah, he had been spending less time with you lately, but in no way were you invisible to him. 

"Yeah, invisible. It's like I'm just not here. You've been basically avoiding spending time with me and the one time you offer to plan something, you conveniently forget. Spare me, Joe," you shook your head and said. 

"Woah, I wouldn't say I'm avoiding spending time with you?" he said as he took a step closer to you. "I've been busy, you know I've been busy,".

"I get that, but what about those times when you ditched doing something with me so you could do something with the guys? I understand if it’s because of training and stuff but getting ditched for your friends? That hurts. Especially when we already had plans but you moved them and little old me always went along with it because I didn't want to rock the boat," you cried, your tears breaking through and free-falling down your cheeks now. 

"Rock the boat? What are you...what are you even talking about?" he threw his hands in the air and asked. "What the hell is she talking about? I know we've been spending less time together, but in no way is the boat being rocked. We're fine?" he thought to himself. 

"Here you go with the oblivious act," you laughed through the tears in amusement. "Un. fucking. believable. You always do this whenever you’re in the wrong, and frankly, I’m sick of it. You're acting as if I haven't been visibly miserable the past few weeks. Oh, wait. That's just it, how would you know? I'm invisible to you," you said, your voice a little louder as the anger was once again taking over. 

"Look, I don't know what the fuck I did but I don't understand why you're blowing up over this," Joe said, his hand moving to scratch the back of his neck. 

"That's just it. It's mostly what you didn't do. You didn't bother to reschedule our plans, you didn't bother to check in on me to see if I was really okay with you moving our plans, and you didn't fucking remember we were supposed to go out tonight," you yelled, your breaths becoming shorter as you felt yourself turning red from slight distress. You felt awful for yelling at him, but all of the emotions you had built up this past month were coming out at once and it was not going to be pretty. 

Joe stood in silence, his eyes fixed on you as you continued to express your disappointment with his recent behavior as your boyfriend. He felt a sense of unease as he realized the impact of his actions on your emotions. He knew he was in the wrong, but he was hoping you understood how hectic his schedule was and how that prevented him from giving his all to you recently. 

You always understood. And if you didn't, you talked to him about it. But this time you didn't do either of those things, and that made him a little upset. Communication was a big part of your relationship and although it had been pretty off this past month, he thought you would’ve said something to him if you felt this bad about everything. 

"You know, instead of yelling at me about all of this, why didn't you just talk to me about it in the first place?" he asked, now feeling a bit irritated himself. "If you felt so 'invisible' why didn't you tell me right then and there?". 

"Are you really blaming me for this?" you said, looking at him in disbelief. It was unbelievable that he was trying to ignore your feelings, especially when you rarely blew up on him like this so that should tell him that you were really hurt by all of this.

"I never…I never said that," he said while sucking his bottom lip in. "All I'm saying is that we didn't need to have this big argument about it if you just talked to me about how you were feeling before,".

"That still wouldn't change the fact that you forgot about tonight," you snapped, placing your hands on your hips. When your hands touched the smooth, silky fabric of your dress, it seemed to emphasize every curve of your body, catching Joe's gaze for a moment. He felt a flutter of excitement in his stomach as he admired your figure once more, taking in every detail of your stunning appearance a bit closer than he did before. "You still haven't given me a reason," you added.

Joe's frustration was growing as he felt increasingly annoyed by your words, despite his understanding that he had made a mistake. Instead of fixing the issue, your yelling was only aggravating the situation. "You know what? Fine. I forgot. Whoops. My bad," he retorted in a tone that was both monotonous and bratty. He went quiet for a moment, thinking of a devious plan to make you even more annoyed. 

But why did he enjoy making you feel irritated? Because he liked seeing you get all hot and bothered because of him. "I forgot because I was having a great time with my friends and lost track of time. I guess they were more interesting than you," he said smugly.

He knew he was being an absolute dick right now, but part of him was having fun watching you get heated over this and wanted to see you get more flustered. “Is it bad that I think she looks hot as fuck right now?” he thought to himself. 

"God, your fucking attitude pisses me off sometimes," you yelled. As you shook your head, you couldn't help but feel another wave of anger towards him, even though looking around, you realized that the issue at hand was frankly trivial. It wasn't the specific problem–forgetting about the date–that got to you, but rather the underlying feeling of frustration and disappointment that had built inside of you for the past month. Tonight was just the final blow that tipped you over the edge.  

Despite your irritating behavior and petty bickering, Joe was really turned on right now. Something about seeing that fire in your eyes, hearing that fire in your voice just got him going. You were taking charge, and he loved that even if he was pissed that you were arguing with him about something that didn’t need to be this big of a deal. You were putting him in his place and he liked that about you. He liked that you weren’t afraid to call him out on his bullshit. 

His eyes traced a slow, calculated path from your legs, to the graceful curves of your body, to the gentle contours of your breasts, then up to the curve of your neck, before finally meeting your captivatingly beautiful face. He couldn't resist the temptation to admire your compelling appearance, making it even more challenging for him to focus on the petty argument you were having. He felt bad that you got all dressed up for a date that wasn’t happening, but he did enjoy seeing your precious cheeks turn red out of anger, seeing your body tense up in a way that was practically begging for him to relieve it. 

He licked his plump lips as his eyes flashed to a darker shade of blue before saying, "Then why do you like me so much?". 

Your breath caught in your throat as you were trapped by the intense gaze in his eyes. Those dangerous, smoldering, bedroom eyes always seemed to have an irresistible effect on you. The words that followed, said in a tone that ignited a wildfire within you, made you feel an almost overwhelming urge to drop to your knees in front of him. “No, No, No. I’m mad at him. It doesn’t matter how much I would love for him to take away my ability to walk right now. Keep it together,” you thought to yourself, feeling butterflies flutter through your stomach. 

You remained quiet and continued to stare at him, watching him raise his eyebrows in the brattiest way possible as a result of how he easily silenced your bitching and moaning and because of how you had absolutely no response for him. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked as he leaned over and whispered in your ear, his husky voice sending shivers down your spine. “Cat got your tongue?”. 

“I’m not playing this game with you right now,” you rolled your eyes and snapped, starting to back up and walk away before you felt his warm hand wrap around your wrist and pull you right back to him.

A playful smirk danced across his lips as he pulled you into his embrace, immediately planting a trail of soft, teasing kisses along your neck, successfully redirecting your attention.

“Joe,” you whispered, trying to get out of his hold but struggling because of how he was holding you so tightly and pressing kisses all along your neck—your favorite spot to be kissed. “Oh fuck,” you lightly whimpered, feeling him nip and bite at your skin as he wrapped his hand around your neck and gently squeezed it. 

“Hm? Why do you like me so much then?” he mumbled as he dropped wet kisses up to your ear. “If I’m such a horrible boyfriend, why don’t you just leave?”.

“Fuck, Joe,” you accidentally moaned, feeling him start to suck on your favorite spot which made a pang of arousal shoot up your spine.  “So much for trying to keep it together,” you thought to yourself. “This has to be a massive ego boost for him,”. 

It definitely was. He took pride in knowing that he could so easily make you forget about your anger towards him by simply doing what he did best, skillfully and attentively worshiping every inch of your body.

“Hm,” he laughed against you. “I guess that’s why you don’t leave,” 

“You’re being a brat,” you said a few seconds later as you threaded your fingers through his frosted tips, pushing his head closer to your neck. Your actions are a complete juxtaposition to the words that came from your mouth. You were mad at him, but you weren’t acting like it. The sounds leaving your lips, your needy touch, it was all the complete opposite of what you were saying.

“No, you’re being a brat,” he said as he moved out of your neck and looked into your firey eyes. 

He had some nerve to be calling you a brat right now. You weren’t the one that had been ignoring him tonight or the one that had been brushing him off all month. “Go fuck yourself, Joe,” you spat out, the bitterness evident in your words, but it seemed to have little effect on him.

“How about you fuck me instead?” he boldly said while giving you the same tempting, inviting eyebrow raise again. 

“If he looks at me like that again, I swear to god I’m going to end up pregnant. Fuck. Why does he have to look at me like that when I’m trying to be mad at him,” you thought to yourself. Gradually, the intense anger, sadness, and constant irritation towards him turned into strong feelings of fierce desire, urgent need, and passionate emotion.

As you stood face to face, a noticeable tension filled the air, the heat rising as if a fire had been torched between you. His passionate gaze reached into you, sending jolts of electricity through the space. It felt as though he was silently expressing that he had the power to make you forget everything, if only you would allow him to.

And god you wanted him to. 

You quickly reduced the space between you both and smashed your lips against his, his hands dropping down to your waist and holding you tightly as a smirk rose on his lips. “Told you. This is why you don’t leave,” he whispered in between the messy kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him in closer, completely melting under his fervent touch. 

“Shut up,” you smirked as you trailed kisses along his jaw before he pulled your lips back to his, both of your bodies calling each other’s names as you got lost in each other. 

He moves his big hands down to your ass, giving each cheek a gentle squeeze before whispering, “Jump,” in between the kiss. You do as he says, jumping and wrapping your legs around his middle as he holds you tightly, walking towards the stairs and taking you straight to the bedroom, all without breaking the restless kiss.

A few minutes later, you’re both naked and lying on the bed as Joe spends a bit more time peppering kisses along your neck, your neediness getting more and more vocal as he refuses to do the thing you actually need him to do. 

“Joe, please,” you whimpered as you felt his nose brush against your jaw while he sucked on a spot on your neck, your body squirming under his large frame.

“You can’t be mad at me like that and expect me to give you what you want so easily,” he smirks after he moves from your neck and looks into your eyes with mischievous intent. 

“Fuck you,” you scoffed while tilting your head to the side and refusing to look at him.

“Oh you will, all in due time, baby,” he whispered in your ear, then gently lifted you up in a tender embrace and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Straight across from the mirror. 

“What’re you doing?” you ask him as he sets you in his lap, both of you facing the mirror.

“You see that, Y/N?” he asks as he points to you in the mirror. “That’s you,” he adds as he continues to look up and starts to press wet kisses around your shoulder. His hand snakes around your waist, rubbing your belly with his long fingers as they start to navigate down to your thigh. 

“I know,” you sigh, tilting your head to the side as his kisses get closer to your neck.

“You’re not invisible, baby,” he says as he plants kisses in a path up to your ear as his fingers move down to your core aching core. “You’re right here,” he whispers, a moan escaping your lips as you feel his fingers slide against your wet heat. 

“Joe,” you whimper tipping your head back and closing your eyes, the feeling of his hot body underneath you combined with the feeling of his long fingers at the place where you need him the most becoming too much for you.

“I see you, Y/N,” he whispers in your ear, the tip of his cold nose pressed against it. “I always see you, I always hear you. You’re not invisible,” he says before pressing a kiss to the corner of your ear, then pressing his fingers against your sensitive clit. 

“Ah, Joe,” you moaned, feeling a jolt of pleasure rip through your body. Before you can move your head back forward to say something, you feel his fingers dip inside your core with no warning, earning another sound of pleasure from your lips. “Fuck,” you moaned as you practically melted into his embrace even more. 

His fingers begin to pump in and out of your core, more soft groans and whimpers falling from your lips as he drops slow, hot kisses around your face. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he rasps as he drops his head down to your shoulder again, spending more time cherishing that part of your body. 

The sensation of his skillful fingers stretching you out and filling you makes you want to forget about everything that happened. Joe always had the ability to make you forget your worries and tensions in an instant, but this might have been a new record. 

“Joe, please…I..,” you whimper, grinding your hips against his as your body begs for more.

"Hmm, it's not that easy, baby," he says with a smirk, his voice oozing with cockiness. You can sense the power he holds over you, and it's clear that he finds it entertaining. He is fully aware of the effect he has on you and revels in it. You hated that he could easily get you like this, but you loved it so fucking much. 

His fingers continue to thrust in and out of your core, his touch becoming hotter by the second as you feel yourself inch closer to your release. “You don’t sound like you’re mad at me,” he said as he used his other hand to push your head forward so that you were looking in the mirror again. 

“Fuck,” you moaned when you saw his captivating dark blue eyes at the same time as you felt his fingers hit the spot inside of you. “I…I’m so…mad at you,” you struggled to get out, a whimper squeezing in between your words. 

“Sure,” he chuckled as he rested his chin on your shoulder, increasing the pace of his fingers.

You watched as his fingers disappeared in and out of your dripping heat, faint sounds of your wetness filling the room as you slowly moved your eyes back up to meet his. The look he had told you a number of things; he was horny as hell (just like you), he was enjoying seeing you struggle like this, and he was genuinely sorry about everything. 

The apologetic twinkle in his eyes produced a profound and intense emotion within you, igniting a powerful and overwhelming feeling. He was fully aware of his mistake and this was his way of expressing it to you. “Joe,” you screamed as you felt the band in your stomach tighten, your body gently trembling above him as you felt overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. 

“Look at you, you’re right there, Y/N. Not hidden, not transparent, and certainly not fucking invisible. Especially not to me,” he whispered in your ear, his husky, raspy voice being the final thing you needed to tip right over the edge.

You feel an intense, deep, and warm feeling pool in your belly, you were so so so painfully close. But just to your surprise, Joe suddenly pulls his fingers out of your core, earning a dissatisfied shriek from your lips. “What the fuck, Joe,” you panted, your core pulsing at the tension that was still there, the tension you thought he’d release for you.  

“Told you,” he smirked as he looked into your eyes through the mirror. “Not easy,”, a soft kiss landing on your shoulder before you feel yourself being lifted up again, turned around, and pushed down to the bed a little roughly. 

“Go. Fuck. Yourself.” you groaned at him a few seconds later, your eyes having that fire in them that he so desperately loved. 

“That’s your job, baby,” he winked as he kneeled down on the bed, hovering over you. “But, I’ll be nice for a little bit and help you out,”. 

You’re about to open your mouth to say something, but before you can, he smashes his lips against yours and rests the head of his hard cock at the entrance of your core. “You want me to give you attention? Here you go,” he mumbles a few seconds later with a cocky grin, and then you feel him push into you with a roughness that drove you wild.

“Ah, Joe,” a guttural moan escaping your lips as you scrunch your nose, your legs instinctively wrapping around him. He was wasting no time with you, and you loved that. 

A jolt of pleasure rips through your body again as he starts to move inside of you, his movements so thorough and intense but rough at the same time. His hand firmly grasps your waist, communicating a sense of possession and intimacy, making it clear to you that you belong entirely to him. 

His body was telling you that you weren’t losing him, that you could never lose him. You could never lose him because he would never let you, he’d never let go of you. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he moaned as he felt your hands travel to his hair, gently tugging on the strands as you rested your lips on his neck. He begins to snap his hips against yours hard, every thrust sending you further back into the bed and making you forget about everything that ever bothered you in your entire life. 

“Joe…fuck, I’m…,” you panted. “Fuck,” you trailed off.

“I know, baby. I know,” he smiled.

He continues to thrust into you and sets a pace that makes you feel like you’re practically flying through the clouds. It feels euphoric the way he knows exactly how to send your body to its pleasure, almost other-worldly. He was just so good at it. 

The way he was worshipping your body, basically fucking the anger out of you was something your brain couldn’t comprehend. He was the only person who was capable of doing this to you, getting you so frustrated, hot, and bothered, and then having you completely and utterly raw the next second–emotionally and physically. 

Joe was aware that your anger towards him and his recent behavior stemmed from genuine pain. He deeply regretted causing you this pain and slapped himself mentally, repeatedly, for making you feel invisible, even for a second. You were the center of his galaxy, and he needed you to know that you still were and nothing had changed. 

He moves his lips back to yours, capturing them in an intimate kiss that stifles your moans. The delicious feeling of his cock filling you up and his lips against yours is all you could have ever wanted. The way he was moving against you was creating a haze in your brain, almost like a lavender haze. 

The haze surrounded you, signaling that you were immersed in a love that consumed every part of you. 

Joe consumed every part of you. He was the lavender haze, and you wanted to stay in that haze for as long as humanly possible. 

Even though you were mad at him, you couldn’t stay mad at him. He loved you and you knew that, and now he was showing you that he did. This was his way of reassuring you that he was right here with you. 

“Baby,” he moaned, feeling himself get lost in the pleasure you were bringing him. “You feel so fucking good,” he groaned. 

“Joe, my god,” you whimpered, feeling your already built-up release getting stronger again. “I’m so close,” you whined, feeling him somehow quicken his pace. You looked down at him, watching how he roughly pounded into your wet heat and how his muscular body was glowing in the soft light of your bedroom. 

“Cum for me, baby. I know you’re there,” he moaned in your ear before dropping his head to your neck. 

“Ah,” you whimper, feeling your body start to tremble again, you were just seconds away from letting go. 

One particular hard, well-placed thrust later, you were screaming his name as you pushed your head back into the pillow to brace yourself for your orgasm. You felt like a dam had just burst, and the pressure built against it was finally free. Wave after wave of pleasure rips through your body as Joe keeps hammering into you and each time you feel your high come down, it shoots right back up because of his movements. The feeling of your walls wrapping around him, squeezing and hugging his cock made him smile, almost as much as the sound of his name leaving your lips like a sacred chant. 

“Joe,” you whispered, feeling yourself finally come down from your peak. You looked down and saw that he was still moving inside of you, trying to reach his own peak. “Joe,” you said again as you threaded your hands into his hair and lifted his head, “Flip us,”. 

He looked at your glossed-over eyes with his tired ones, a dirty smirk forming on his lips at the idea of what you were asking him to do. “Okay,” he winked, wrapping his big hands around your torso and easily flipping you over all in one go. Despite how tired he was physically, he could never be too tired for you.

“He’s so fucking strong. Fucking hell,” you thought to yourself as you straddled his waist, taking in his tousled golden curls, his thick muscular chest which was coated with a thin layer of sweat, and then his large cock–which was practically calling for you. 

You grabbed his erection, guiding the tip between your drenched folds as you saw his face contort in pleasure and a hiss leaving his lips–he was close. You lifted your hips from his and sat up on your knees before lining up his cock with your core and sinking straight down onto it.  “Oh, fuck,” he moaned as he closed his eyes, his hands landing right on your ass with a light ‘slap’. 

You leaned forward and placed your hands on his pecs, sliding up and down his cock at the same pace he was pounding into you. “Yeah,” you whispered as you felt yourself feel a shock of pleasure coarse through your vein, just as Joe felt coursing inside of him. 

“Y/N, baby,” he groaned, “You feel so good, fuck,” he said while digging his head back into the pillow, having the time of his life watching you take over and ride him into oblivion. 

“I know,” you said to him with a cocky grin which made him raise his eyebrows again, the same way he did earlier. 

It was that same bratty, sexy, that made you think ‘get me pregnant right the fuck now’ eyebrow raise. 

“Fuck,” you moaned after you saw him raise his eyebrows and his cock hit that spot inside of you. 

“That’s my girl,” he grinned, feeling his ego shoot up because even though you were in ‘control’, he was still, actually in control. Especially over you, and it was so obvious. 

You continued to slide up and down his length, occasionally moving back and forth as his moans got louder and his grip on you got tighter. His eyes were fixated on your breasts that were bouncing up and down right in his view, his hands were stuck to your ass and were kneading your plush skin, and his hips were starting to thrust up into you. 

“I’m close, fuck,” he moaned as he felt your walls tighten around him–you were close too, again. 

“O- oh, fuck,” you whimpered while falling forward, your chest pressed against his. “Joe, you’re so fucking…,” you trailed off as a moan interrupted your sentence. “I’m gonna cum,” you whispered against his swollen, plump lips.

“Y- yeah, me too,” he panted, snapping his hips into yours harder. A few seconds later, your bodies moved against each other in perfect harmony for the final time as both of your releases hit at the same time, both of you feeling like your breaths had just been taken away by the intensity of your orgasms. 

“Joe,” you screamed, feeling your high hit you again like a ton of bricks, stars filling your eyes as your second release soaked your lower halves as you felt Joe’s cock twitch inside of you.  

“Fuck, Y/N…oh my god,” he rasped as he shot hot spurts of cum inside your wet, hot cunt, slowly thrusting whatever came out back into your core. His hands were gripping your hips now, so incredibly tightly that you were sure they would leave a small bruise. You looked down and saw how his nose was scrunched up, how his bottom lip was stuck between his teeth, and how his eyes were filled with love, regret, and admiration towards you. 

A couple of minutes later, you were both lying next to each other, trying to catch your breath and make sense of everything that happened in the past hour or so. Joe turned his head to the side to look at you, taking note of how you were biting away at your bottom lip–something you did when you were anxious.

You were in fact anxious. Your argument was bad, and whatever happened on this bed was amazing, but where did it actually get you? Yeah, you were much calmer and in your senses (kind of?) for the most part, but you had hardly talked about the reason you two even got to this point. 

Joe, with a mix of feelings, let out a deep, heartfelt sigh. He gently put his arm around your bare shoulder, pulling you close to his warm chest. Amid your overwhelming confusion, he became your safe haven even though he was the reason you were confused in the first place.

You felt the gentle touch of his lips as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. He then rested his mouth and nose against it, inhaling your natural fragrance. This simple act brought him a unique sense of comfort that no one else, not even his friends, could provide. It was this deep connection that made him realize the need to apologize to you. You were right, you were always right.

“Baby?” he asked you, causing you to look up at him with your tired eyes.

“Y- yeah?” you rasped, your voice scratchy from the activities you were partaking in just a few minutes ago. 

“I’m so, and I mean so fucking sorry for what I did,” he sighed. “I really didn’t mean to make you feel invisible or ignored this past month, you don’t deserve that. I’m sorry that I haven’t been giving you the attention you deserve lately, especially because you do so much for me, more than anyone ever has or ever will,” he sniffled, his eyes welling with tears. 

“Joe,” you pouted, moving your hand to cup his soft cheek and rubbing your thumb under his eye, seeing how glossy his eyes got all of a sudden. “It’s okay, I promise,”.

“It’s not, Y/N,” he said with another gentle kiss to your forehead. “I told you that you were the center of my galaxy, and you are. I hate that I made you feel like you weren’t anymore, that’s so fucked up. I should’ve talked to you about all of this and shouldn’t have expected you to say something first. I was the one that needed to get myself straight and I’m so sorry that I let things get to this point,”.

You felt his hand moving in gentle, soothing circles on your back, providing a comforting and secure touch. In his arms, your worries and tensions seemed to melt away in two distinct ways: the intimacy you shared in the bedroom, and the reassuring feeling of his current actions.

“I just felt like I was losing you,” you admitted. “I was scared that we were drifting apart and I just-,”.

“No,” he interrupted. “You’re not losing me, baby. You’re never going to lose me,” he softly said as he moved his hands into your hair. “I’m not gonna let that happen, not now and not in 15 years when we’re middle-aged and have two kids running around and are arguing about who has to drive the kids to school the next morning,” he smiled.

A soft chuckle left your lips as you imagined what he was saying, an image of your promising future with Joe filled your mind–and it was oh-so sweet. “Obviously you. I need beauty sleep,” you chuckled. 

“Noted,” he smiled as he pulled you closer to him as if you weren’t already stuck to him like glue. He opened his mouth to say something again, and the tone of his voice knew that what he was about to say could easily make you cry,  “I don't think I could find the right words to describe the depth of my love for you. What I feel for you overpowers any other emotion I've ever experienced. It's as if my soul has finally found its missing piece in you. I will choose you, again and again, without hesitation. No one else can make me feel the way you do. You mean everything to me. When I look at you, I see my life partner, my best friend, my everything. You have the unique ability to improve every aspect of my life–every laugh becomes brighter, and every tough day feels more manageable because you're there for me. You have given me a type of love that I never thought possible, and I'll forever treasure the way you've positively impacted my life. My love for you is something I'll wholeheartedly protect because no one else will ever have my heart the way you do. From the moment we met, I felt something unique about you. I've never loved anyone the way I love you, and I know I never will. You're my heart, my soul, and the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. No one else will ever come close to producing the feelings I have for you, and I'll always do everything in my power to ensure you feel as cherished and adored as you deserve.” he said while playing with your messy hair. 

You felt tears falling from your eyes after he finished talking, you didn’t even realize when you started crying, but you were. “Wait, I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he softly said as he leaned down and cleaned up your tears by placing kisses on each droplet. “I’m sorry, baby,” he said, his softness so adorable and genuine. 

“It’s okay, Joey,” you grinned, a few sniffles coming from your nose. “I’m crying because of how much I love you. What you said…that means a lot,”. 

“I mean it, Y/N. I’m genuinely so sorry for tonight, for this past month, for all of it. You are always number 1 for me and I need to show you that more from now on. I don’t deserve you at all, but I have you, and I won’t overlook something as valuable as you or not take advantage of the fact that you, this amazingly sweet, sexy, empathetic, down-to-earth, incredibly genuine, kindhearted, funny & sometimes slightly boring…” he started to say before you interrupted him.

“Ouch,” you giggled as you patted his chest, earning a soft chuckle from him.  

“...boring but unpredictable, loving, insanely beautiful, and charismatic girl has my heart in her hands,” he finished saying. “I love you, Y/N. I need to do better for you, and from this moment on I will. You deserve to be loved with 150% effort and I’m going to make sure you do. The guys can wait. I’ve spent enough time with them for them to go a couple of weeks, even months without seeing me. It’s you and me now and forever,” he said to you, his soft, loving eyes acting as a mirror to his soul–which showed his genuine and raw intentions and were exactly as he was describing to you. 

“I love you, Joe,” you smiled as you felt him brush his lips against your lips before planting a deep, passionate kiss to them. 

“Time to get things back on track,” he said a few seconds later, sitting up on the bed and bringing you with him. “It’s too late for our dinner reservation but I’m going to get it shifted to tomorrow. Tonight we’re going to the banks for some stargazing and a late-night picnic. We can pick up some pizza and ice cream from that place by the stadium on our way,” he nodded, talking you through the plan as if he had thought about this deeply, but he didn’t. He was coming up with all this on the fly. “Then tomorrow morning after we wake up, we can go on a little hike in that part by my parent’s house in Athens. It’ll be a drive but we can hike around there since it’s so pretty this time of the year and see my parents, maybe even get lunch with them at our favorite cafe over there before heading back home for dinner tomorrow night. On Sunday, it’s a full lazy day inside. We’re going to stay in our pajamas all day, do a Twilight movie marathon because I remember you saying you want me to watch them with you, order food to the house for lunch and dinner, maybe even bake some cookies or something, and then spend the rest of the day in bed. Preferably with no clothes,” he grinned. 

You were left speechless as you looked at him, impressed by how effortlessly he had drafted these plans without considering his own weekend schedule. The sight of him thinking on the spot filled you with affection, and your heart swelled with a mix of emotions. 

You leap forward and wrap your arms around his neck as you smother his face with gentle kisses, “I loveeeeee youuuuuuuuu,” you giggle, feeling him wrap his arms around your waist and hearing his soft chuckles in your ear. 

“I love you too, baby. You’re the shining force at the center of my galaxy, the light that everything else revolves around. Like the planets drawn to their sun, my life is pulled by your existence, and I know that for us to thrive, our orbit needs to be steady. Every moment with you is a delicate balance of love, trust, and effort–each one keeping us aligned, making sure our world doesn’t drift apart. I’ll protect that balance, making sure that no matter what forces try to interfere, we stay on track, always revolving around the core of what we’ve built together," he says to you, his heartfelt words, his embrace, the genuine look in his eyes all making you fall deeper in love with him.

"This is why I like you so much," you grin as you meet his baby blues, answering his question from earlier.

"What do you mean?" he asks you, licking his lips as he uses his hand to move his hair back.

"I like you because you're the most thoughtful, raw, incredibly well-spoken, smartest, nerdiest, most adorable and manly, genuine person I've ever met in my entire existence. You make me mad sometimes, but you also know exactly how to fix what you did and make everything even better than it was before. You're always making an effort to fix things. Yeah, you can be a dick, asshole, and oblivious idiot sometimes...,".

"Hey!" he gasps, acting like he was offended over what you said.

"But you're my obvious idiot and I love you for everything you are. You love me, like really love me and I know that and you never fail to make me know that. Also because you're like super sexy and I can't get enough of you and that damn eyebrow raise," you giggled.

"Oh, you like that?" he asked, giving you that eyebrow raise again.

"Do that again and we're staying in this bed the rest of the night," you smiled at him and said. "I might even end up pregnant by the end of it,".

Joe was stunned at your words, "Damn, so you really like that," he slowly nodded with a smirk.

"Really may be an understatement. Just know that you don't want to be inside my brain whenever you do that eyebrow raise," you winked. "I don't think we have enough anti-horny spray to get rid of the thoughts in my head,".

"Being perpetually horny is good for the soul, babe. Embrace it," Joe smiled as he leaned in and slowly kissed you in a way that made your toes curl and your body light on fire.

He fell back down against the pillows and brought you down with him. "Joe," you said in between the kiss, "We have to go," you smiled.

"Another round won't hurt," he said while giving you the eyebrow raise again, now knowing what it did to you.

You rolled your eyes, "Fuck, you're going to use that every damn time from now on, aren't you?".

"Maaaybe," he grinned as he brought you back down to his soft lips.

–The End–

[yan-randomfandom]

P!Yandere!Pines Family x GN!Teenager!Reader

[PLATONIC] a continuation to this! decided to just make them all yanderes cuz y not lol errmm just subtle ykwim... i'm not proofreading all this so just have my draft

warnings: staring, violence, alcoholics, abuse, blood, implied murder. woah intense

❤️‍🔥

"Then I saved Ford by slicing its eye! You should have seen it!"

You laughed, settling down from your dramatic gestures that you've been making throughout the entire dinner. The entire Pines family watched you in awe, especially Dipper and Mabel, easily captivated by your personality and story.

"Yes, well, they certainly saved my life," Ford chuckled as he fed himself a spoonful of food.

"You have to stop lettin' kids save your life so much," Stan scoffed.

Dipper grabbed a book out of nowhere, clicking his pen in preparation—

"No writing at the dinner table! We talked about this!" Stan called out, earning a sheepish smile from Dipper who immediately drops the book on the ground.

"But what did the monster look like?" Dipper stammered, eventually turning to you with a curious look on his face. He looked eager to learn more. That's what you can tell anyway, if you remove his reddened face, which is most likely from embarrassment.

Mabel, who sat across from you, leaned towards you with the biggest smile on her lips. You grinned back to return her energy. "Bet it was super gross! Was there a lot of blood?! Blaarrrgghhh!!!"

"No gross sounds at the table, pumpkin!" Even Stanley felt like he's tired of his own voice. This is him trying his best to not let you be uncomfortable. Well, he supposed you and his brother brought up the story in the first place.

Speaking of, why were you even here? Ford came back in the mystery shack after missing for a day, only to bring a random teen with him. It's a good thing he cooked extra since he thought Soos was coming over.

But he needed answers fast.

"Ford," Stan whispered firmly, catching his brother's attention. Tilting his head, he tried to signal him to move out, but someone interrupted them before they could do anything.

"Hey! No sneaking out the dinner table!" Mabel exclaimed, pointing a fork at her grunkles.

Stanley stood up and Ford followed his actions. They were already heading out the door with Stan holding his twin's wrist. "Well, sweetheart, VERY REASONABLE EXCUSE!"

As soon as they were out of sight, you and the other kids exchanged looks.

"He did say it's reasonable."

"Yeah, I can live with that."

... You snorted. "You guys are a funny bunch. He literally said the excuse, and you let him go just like that? You must trust each other a lot."

"You have no idea, stranger, you have no idea," Mabel laughed. "Sorry, what was your name again?"

💥

Meanwhile, deep inside the mystery shack, where they were sure there'd be no eavesdropping happening...

"You let the kid stay here without telling their parents?!"

Stanley was freaking out. Yet, he really shouldn't be surprised Ford would do this. Ironically, poindexter would even criticize his behavior, his grunkle methods! How ridiculous is this whole thing, huh?!

"It's more complicated than that! Look, I know this sounds bad—"

"It does!" Stan yelped, his hands clenching. "Their parents must be so worried! And we can't just let them—"

"No, no, Stanley, walk with me here," Ford said, placing his hands on his brother's shoulders. "It's their parents that are the problem."

A few deep breaths from Stan. Alright, okay. This is making more sense now.

"We'll take them to their house first thing in the morning," Ford explained. "Let's see what we'll do from there."

🔥

"I hope my drawing isn't too bad," you chuckled, giving the journal back to Dipper. His eyes skimmed over your illustration of the monster you killed. "It doesn't match yours and Mabel, but..."

"Are you kidding?! It's perfect! Thank you!" Dipper beamed, writing more notes down the rest of the page.

From above, Mabel had her legs folded over the ceiling wood of the house. You looked up and made eye contact, as much as you can anyway. She's upside down.

"Hi! How old are you again?"

How did she even get up there, you wonder. You glanced around, smiling when you realized, and worked your way up.

They stared at you in awe when you climbed right next to Mabel's side. Now you're hanging upside down too. "Cool tricks, Mabel. Hope you don't mind me copying you?"

She doesn't respond, starstrucked. Glancing at Dipper, his jaw was also on the floor.

"Uhhh," you awkwardly smiled, "But I just turned sixteen! You guys are turning thirteen, right?"

"You're the coolest," Mabel whispered, dragging a hand across your face. Okay. That's a bit weird, but it's welcome.

"Thanks," you grinned, manually removing her hand from your face. You looked down at Dipper again. "Hey, Dipper, what time is it?"

He scrambled around and grabbed a watch from somewhere. "Uh, nine o' clock."

"Nine?!" your sudden outburst caused you to fall to the carpet, a pained groan leaving your lips. At least you managed to drop skillfully. "Oh, that hurt."

"Are you okay?!" Dipper rushed to your side, offering a comforting hand on your back.

"Yeah, I just," you paused. "It's nine already? My parents are gonna kill me, man. I gotta go home."

"What!!"

Mabel also dropped down from her outburst, but her landing isn't painful as yours, because you caught her in time. She gazed at you from your arms, stars forming in her eyes.

"Woah. You have fast reflexes!" she squealed as you gently put her down.

Dipper shook his head. "But you can't go home this late at night. Didn't you say you're from outside of Gravity Falls?"

You crossed your arms, pondering. "Yeah, but... Okay, wait, where's Ford?"

Footsteps followed your words. All of you turned to the doorway, seeing the older set of Pines twins. It's kind of amazing, really, you rarely saw twins and this family has two pairs.

"Oh, there you are!" you grinned, walking over to him. Ford blinked at you. "I'm sorry, dude, but I think I overstayed my welcome. I'll go ahead and—"

"Eh, nah," Stanley chimed in, earning your attention, "It's too dark for ya to go out. Let's take you home tomorrow, yeah?"

"But-"

"No butts, they're for sitting," he continued, gently pushing you down on his recliner. You sat down, albeit confused. "Think of it as a sleepover. That's fun, right kids?"

Mabel skipped to your view, an eager grin on her face. "Yeah! We can paint your nails and everything!"

"While I'll show you more of the journals," Dipper beamed, showing one of them to you.

Their ideas were nice, it truly was, but the circumstances are concerning. You couldn't help the frown forming on your lips. They all noticed.

Ford stepped in between them, kneeling and offering you a smile. "Don't worry, kiddo. We'll take good care of you 'til morning. I'm sure your parents will understand."

"I guess I can't really do anything about it," you muttered, eventually accepting the situation. You stood up with a grin. "Okay! Who wants to be unaware of me stealing cool stuff here?!"

"I do!" Mabel screamed, only to pause. "Wait, what?"

"Yeah," Stan squinted, "What?"

You hummed, suddenly behind him, and stared at his wallet. Ford shook his head at you. "You have a very alarming number of IDs. Is this normal? Then again, you're old."

A laugh left Stan as he took his wallet from you. "Oh, I could use that type of skill. Didn't even hear or feel you take it!"

"I can teach you," you smiled.

"Please don't," Dipper groaned.

🌬️

"This journal is amazing! And Ford wrote this? Seriously, no wonder why he was so smart!"

You flipped the book page by page, your jaw dropped the whole time. Sure, a while ago, you saw one page, but only because Dipper told you to draw on it. You didn't expect a whole research surrounding Gravity Falls!

"Interesting enough for you to visit Gravity Falls more often?" Dipper chuckled as he watched you.

"Woah," you smiled, "You like my company that much, Dipper? Don't you have any friends here— oh shoot, wait, I didn't mean—"

A ghost of a frown spread through his face. Why did you have to ask that?! You were just projecting if you had to be honest, but still!!!

"Sorry, that was insensitive," you blurted, closing the book and focusing all your attention on him. "I only said that because I feel that way. I know, that's pretty lame."

He looked surprised. "Really? But you're so cool?"

"Some people think I'm weird is all. But thanks for finding me cool, Dip," you laughed, glancing at Mabel who was snoring. "I find you and your sister cool too. A lot, actually. So it's nice to know you both like me."

Dipper sniffed. "Man. Ditto."

You grabbed a blanket and placed it over Mabel's body, making sure she's covered head to toe. She snuggled up to it unconsciously.

"Welp, bed time," you murmured, reaching for another one. You stretched the blanket, letting Dipper be able to invite himself in. "Come on."

He happily accepted, nestling his head next to your shoulder. Mabel followed him, her head tilting to your chest.

You slept, content.

🌪️

You woke up, disturbed.

The first thing you saw after sleeping is Dipper and Mabel staring at you in silence. As soon as you noticed them, they scrambled away from you and tried to act natural.

Yet, you couldn't forget the small glimpse of their faces. Wide-eyed, a bit of judgment, but most of all, solemn.

Before you could question them, Dipper yelled, "Grunkles! They're awake!"

You winced from the volume of his voice, having just woken up. He immediately apologized to you, but it's all good.

"Visit us again soon! Byeee!"

The next thing you know, you're in the backseat of a car with Stanley next to you. He was pouting, arms crossed.

"This is literally my car. I can't believe it! You won't even let me drive my own car?" he sneered at Ford who sat on the driver's seat.

Ford rolled his eyes. "I can't have you get in trouble by driving again. Think of the kid."

While driving to your address is certainly much faster than walking, it still took a while. You managed to fall asleep, tilting your head on Stan's shoulder. It seemed that you're not alone in being unconscious, because he snored loudly.

Glancing at the mirror, Ford simply exhaled.

You're here.

He parked in front of your house.

Ford nudged Stan awake, who poked you awake next.

You stood up drowsily, holding Stan's hand while walking up to your house. Ford took the lead and knocked on your front door.

To both grunkles' disappointment, things get messy.

Both your parents, drunk, loudly told them off and took you away roughly from Stan. Tears leaked out of your eyes, saying countless apologies to the Pines twins and your parents.

Without much of a fight, Ford forcibly grabbed you back, carrying your body with one arm. He looked at Stan who placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Psst, I'll handle this," Stanley murmured in the midst of your father yapping nonsense. Maybe the professional con-man can knock some sense into your deadbeat parents.

Ford took you back to the car. You sobbed relentlessly, whispering the most saddening things he wished to unhear. He hugged you tightly, muttering sweet nothings until you fell asleep.

After a long while, Stan finally came back.

His eyes were wide. He was shaking.

"I didn't mean to. They started it—I had no choice!"

Gazing down, Ford realized Stan's hands were covered in blood. He swallowed the thickness in his throat.

"...I'll help you clean it up."

[atlas-likes-writing]

LAPIS LAZULI - 1. Reality

Character(s): Kakavasha/Aventurine

Tags: Long fic, no other tags apply tbf

Word Count: 2651 words

Summary: University seminars, philosophical discussions, and over-the-top ornate letters. What could go wrong?

Author’s note: I’d like to state for the record that I am currently not in university so have no idea how it works, so excuse any inaccuracies you may find here. Also, I had to dig around the Archives in game to make sure the lore is right lmao. Once again this is inspired by the ever wonderful @havanillas and their role swap!au. Check it out!

Account Masterlist | Fic Masterlist | Prologue

8.45am - Wednesday

“Doctor? I have a letter addressed to you. Would you like me to leave it on your desk?”

“Yes please, Cassandra. I’ll have a look at it after today’s seminar. Thank you.”

”No problem, Doctor. It will be there when you arrive.”

Kakavasha takes his finger off the call button and leans back in his spinny chair, fingers interlocked on his stomach as he stares at the ceiling of his classroom. One hand reaches for a bottle of water on an oaken desk and he takes a swig, the liquid wonderfully tasteless as it slides down his throat. His students were to arrive within the next five minutes or so, so he makes himself busy by writing up a few diagrams on the whiteboard adjacent to his desk. To his annoyance, the marker pen runs out of ink halfway through, so goes on a hunt through his drawers to find another.

He roots through them for a few minutes, grumbling to himself and making a mental note to buy more with the university budget when he has free time. He finds another and grabs it triumphantly, lifting it to eye level with a grin before promptly realising two of his students have entered the classroom and sat down; now staring at him with poorly withheld amusement. At the sight of one of them giving him a cheeky wave and a “Good morning, Professor-“, he clears his throat and pivots on his heel before continuing his task. Next time he hears the chatter of the entering students before the door opens. The sound of backpacks being chucked under tables and laptops being opened fills the air as the majority enter and Kakavasha can’t prevent his quiet pleased sigh. These kids are here to learn and there is a strange form of pride that wells within him at the idea. With a few brief strokes of the marker, he finishes what he was doing and turns to the few dozen pupils in front of him.

”Morning folks,” he begins, twizzling the pen between his fingers artistically. “Today we’ll be continuing from where we left off on Monday’s lecture. Did anyone have the forethought to read through those notes before today?” A surprising majority of the room murmur their affirmative. He nods. “Good. What do you remember?” he asks, pointing the marker in the direction of redhead two rows from the front.

“We were learning about the different Aeons and the effect they have on THEIR Pathstriders and Emanators, Professor,” he replies meekly. Kakavasha gives a small smile.

”Correct, yes. Monday was about Lan the Hunt and THEIR endorsement of the Xianshou Alliance, as well as the Galaxy Rangers,” he states, now pointing at a shoddily drawn picture of a three-headed being on the whiteboard. “Today we’ll be talking about Xipe the Harmony. What do you already know about THEM and the people who follow THEIR path?”

A few students lift their hands. Kakavasha points to another to answer. A silver-haired foxian. “Xipe is a plural Aeon from lots of worlds. THEY wish for the strong to help the weak.” At the professor’s silent smile, she stutters, “Uh- I think.”

”You’re right. Glad to see you’ve done your research. Xipe is the embodiment of philosophies concerning equal rights and singularity. From what THEIR followers have preached, Xipe the Harmony believes that-“ Kakavasha takes the cap off his marker and begins to ascribe a quote on the whiteboard, “-‘Intellient life forms must discard their cowardly selfishness and the differences between individuals, fusing into one singular melody.’ In simpler terms, THEY believe that no-one is above anyone else, and everyone deserves the same chances in life.” The clicking of several keyboards follow as he circles the finished quote.

”Seems to be too far-fetched a dream, if you ask me,” a student near the back grouches in response. He is slouched back in his chair with his arms crossed, looking poignantly at Kakavasha.

”Why do you say that?” the Sigonian questions, curious.

”The universe does not treat people equally,” the student replies simply.

Ain't that the truth.

”Elaborate.”

The student pushes himself upright with his hands. “I’m all for equal rights, Professor, don’t get me wrong, but the reality of life is that not everyone is born equal. Nepotism is a big reason, but also because there are a lot of shitty people in the universe who don't hesitate to stomp on the backs of others in order to get a step up for themselves.” That is clearly directed at someone specific (or rather a specific organisation), but Kakavasha doesn’t voice that. That organisation is probably funding this pupil’s degree.

”Go on,” he urges, face some kind of welcoming. The student fiddles with the edges of his open laptop for a few moments, unsure, but eventually decides to say what is on his mind.

”There is a level of social and economical class a person needs to have if they want to be taken seriously in this life. I completely agree with the Harmony’s path, but it just isn’t realistic. I mean, what rights does a slave have next to their master?”

And isn’t that the million-credit question? There’s a clear taken aback look on Kakavasha’s face that is concealed as quickly as it appears. His chest tightens slightly and a small lump settles in his throat. It’s a figure of speech, Kakavasha. A figure of speech used to help elaborate a very valid and interesting point of view. He’s sure the kid isn’t aware of the connotations of saying such a thing. He fights the urge to lift his hand to his neck and rub the branding so forcibly put there all those years ago. The habit itches at him, making his fingers twitch.

”Professor?”

Right, he has a class to teach.

He clears his throat and swallows. “You’re very right. Equality is non-existent at this point in time. People less fortunate are facing more and more hardships each day, while those born being fed from silver spoons have it easier. I don't disagree with you. One thing you need to realise, however, is that Aeons’ beliefs are based on ideals, not rules.” The student looks at him with a raised brow, not quite understanding. Kakavasha continues. “Aeons are the embodiment of philosophical concepts. That is all they are: concepts. It's all well and good preaching them but the reality is, like you said, unlikely to take place. Xipe the Harmony has influence all over the cosmos in thousands of worlds but that doesn't mean they are omnipresent. Some Aeons have more influence than others. Qlipoth the Preservation, for example, practically dominates the universe with the IPC. Compare that to Nous the Erudition and THEIR 84 members of the Genius Society and few dozen thousand members of the Intelligentsia Guild and you can see the quantifiable difference.”

Kakavasha needs another sip of his water. The students are hastily writing down notes on computers and notebooks. The original student who started the discussion nods slowly before doing the same. The professor withholds a tired sigh.

This is going to be a long seminar.

10:17am - Wednesday

When the scholar arrives in his office an hour later, he practically collapses into his chair. He drags a hand down his face with a groan and uses the other to take his hair out of its ponytail. The sigh of relief he lets out after the tension is released is audible and warm. His eyes closed, he recalls his lecture timetable and is quietly grateful that the rest of his day is free. Regardless, he keeps his door unlocked in case any of his students need assistance with their work.

He likes what he does at Veritas Prime. It gives him a well-needed break from the tireless nights in this very office spent researching. It also allows him to witness the growth of bright minds. He has a direct effect on the future of these kids (he says “kids” despite the fact that they are all in their twenties and only a few years younger than him) and he is not about to throw their future down the drain. So he tries. He genuinely tries, and the work he puts in makes a difference. If he can give someone with an upbringing as similar as his the chance to grow, then he will take every opportunity he can to do so. No one should be uneducated purely because of where and how they were raised. The ignorant should choose to be ignorant, not be forced into it because they happened to be born into less fortunate circumstances. Kakavasha knows what that's like and he refuses to let others suffer as he did.

Wow. Look at him being all motivational. He should write a speech. The IPC would eat that up. Not that they’d listen to a word he would actually say: they look at the sole survivor of a dead race and they see money bags, not a human being. The thought reminds him of another Intelligentsia Guild scholar. Or rather, a former Intelligentsia Guild member. Veritas Ratio: the man idolised by all. Everyone in the Guild compares Kakavasha to him. They see a young scholar with “promise and potential” and it’s an immediate link. He can’t blame them - the esteemed Doctor Ratio is a legend after all. He feels honoured. Really, he does! He’s simply irked by the fact that he’s compared to such a genius and has yet to meet him. If the Guild’s hapless musings are true, then the potential prospects of their work together would be boundless.

He knows that’s not possible now. Anyone with half a brain cell and access to the Internet knows of the exploits of the former doctor (Well, he’s still a doctor. He still has all eight of those pHDs). A quick search shows a smiling face and his new pseudonym: Lapis Lazuli. Kakavasha doesn’t know him well enough to feel pride for the man, but he does understand the feeling of patriotism at the idea of a former member of the Guild reaching so high that he became one of the Ten Stonehearts. Most people who have worked tirelessly in the IPC all their lives don’t come anywhere close to that level, yet Lapis Lazuli did it in less than half a decade. How did he do it? Status? Money? Luck? Kakavasha inwardly recoils at that last one.

Luck. Most see it as a blessing. For Kakavasha, it’s nothing but a curse. It is his rediculous luck that made him the one that survived the genocide of his people. He was the one who managed to escape that hellhole of a planet (which then resulted in him being thrown into the slave trade, just his luck). It was then just his luck that he was sold, again, to that detestable man in the Guild who found it in himself to strip away Kakavasha’s autonomy (not that he had any at that point anyway) to test on him in hopes of accessing, manipulating, and stealing the only thing that had kept him alive: his luck. Luck bestowed upon him by a god that clearly has a sick sense of humour. Luckily for him, that man couldn’t keep a secret, so he was promptly found and thrown in prison for his unethical practices for a very, very long time.

Now that he's thinking about it, Kakavasha supposes he's doing the same thing. Sort of. Technically the opposite if you squint? He wishes to rid himself of this unbridled luck, yes, but not to manipulate it. He just wants it gone. At least now, in the Intelligentsia Guild, he has the ability and the resources to research such a thing.

Maybe a legend like Veritas Ratio could give a little of his wisdom for his cause.

Yeah, right. Funny joke.

The Sigonian leans forwards and rests his elbows on his desk, head in his hands. He sulks. That's right. A grown man sulks. He stares at the mahogany wood and slips of paper below him and unfocuses his eyes, staying like that for a good twenty minutes or so before noticing a particularly eye-catching envelope addressed directly to him with an elaborate IPC-esque seal on the front. Ah right, the letter. This must have been what Cassandra was talking about earlier. He sits up straight and sorts out his posture. Opening his desk drawer, he hunts around for a bit until he finds the blade of a letter opener. He uses it to open the envelope and fishes out the letter within. It's written in printed cursive on crisp and pure white paper with an ornate golden border around the edge. Gold leaves creep up the sides and dance around the corners, making Kakavasha feel as if it’s addressed to the wrong person at first. His name plastered on the back of the envelope and the top of the paper says otherwise.

It's an invitation.

To the wise and honourable Doctor Kakavasha,

The Interastral Peace Corporation invites you and several other esteemed members of the Intelligentsia Guild to a business party at 8pm on Friday the [xx] of [xxxx] at Pier Point. This is a black-tie event, so please dress applicably. Transport will be provided for you, so please RSVP as soon as possible if you wish to attend. This is a party hosted in hopes of forging positive relations between the IPC and its allied organisations, as well as fostering camaraderie and healthy business. We look forward to hearing from you.

Kind regards,

D, P47

Kakavasha rereads the letter several times, frown deepening more and more as his comprehension of it improves. His immediate thought is to rip it up and throw the remains in his paper bin. Kakavasha hates parties. He has done for years. They're always full of demeaning pricks trying to get into either his research papers or his pants. The Avgin has always refused both.

A business party connecting the Intelligentsia Guild and the IPC. The two organisations already have connections with each other, the latter funding a lot of the projects within the former, so what gives? Why have this party? Granted, it states several reasons within the letter, but the IPC is nothing without their ulterior motives. It could be as simple as the rich and powerful wanting to rub elbows with the other rich and powerful (knowing this universe, this is probably the case), but there is always the possibility of more menacing reasons.

Kakavasha is a scholar at heart. Scholars have always been beings of curiosity. He reads the letter again and sees another thing that catches his eye.

D: an initial that implies that this is an invite by Diamond, founder of the Ten Stonehearts. Will this Diamond, rumoured Emanator of Qlipoth the Preservation, actually be present during this party? Absolutely not. He's far too important for that. Will other Stonehearts be present, though? Almost definitely. Kakavasha's mind flicks back to the rabbit hole he fell down in the wee hours of the morning one night, surfing the Internet and scrounging the web for information on a certain grape-haired executive he's so closely compared to.

Veritas Ratio. Lapis Lazuli. Maybe he will be there. Maybe they can have a discussion about how to cure his dastardly luck.

Kakavasha picks up his phone and dials for his secretary. She answers almost immediately.

“Yes, Doctor?” she begins.

“Hiya, Cassandra. Please may you contact the IPC with a RSVP? I've been asked to attend a party of theirs.”

“Doctor Kakavasha? At a party? Willingly? I must be going mad,” she jokes.

“You and I both,” he chuckles in response. “Thanks Cassandra.”

“Of course.”

Kakavasha puts the phone down and leans back in his chair, calculating in his mind quietly at what in Gaiathra’s great name he’s doing.

He's going to need a suit.

-

Hope you enjoyed! Reblogs appreciated

[amyelevenn]

All I know is that you drove us off the road

PAIRING; Oscar Piastri x driver!reader

SUMMARY; Oscar insists on taking you to the airport after a race, but faces engine problems on the way there.

WARNINGS; none really - mainly fluff! maybe a car breaking down?

A/N; I really enjoyed writing this! let me know any thoughts and feelings are always appreciated!

1.8k words masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・♥︎・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・♥︎・✫・゜・。.

“No, please. I can make my own way to the airport, Piastri,” you laugh, giving him a shit eating grin at his implication. “I can drive, ya know.”

It was the Monday after the Melbourne Grand Prix; it wasn’t a particularly notable race for either of you, despite you both finishing in point scoring positions. It wasn’t an overly entertaining race; no flags or spectacular overtakes from anyone in particular.

“You were drunk last night, not sure you should be driving,” he grinned, mischief dancing in his eyes.

A couple drinks were consumed the night before at a local bar Oscar’s friends had told you about. It wasn’t much, not overly busy on a random Sunday night in March. It allowed for some kind of anonymity, something that was quickly becoming a foreign concept to you.

You shove his shoulder, giggling as you feign anger. “I had two drinks! In what world does that classify as being drunk?”

Oscar rolls his eyes, shaking his head with a happy chuff. “Please, come to the airport with me. I’m going that way anyway!”

It’s hard not to deadpan at him; you may not have been a local, but you knew well enough that the Melbourne Airport wasn’t exactly near anything else. It was well over an hour from the city, where he was claiming to be headed.

“Osc, just accept the no,” you half beg, beginning to roll your suitcase away from him and towards where your team were gathered. You almost manage to take two steps before his hand wraps around your arm, pulling you back in his direction.

He had miscalculated how close you would end up being to him – you were mere inches away from his face, bodies all but pressed against each other.

“I insist. Let me take you to the airport, love,” he mutters, with an air of intimacy that came with the proximity.

You hadn’t realised you were holding your breath in anticipation until your body forced you to sigh. Finally, you give in to his insistence, silently nodding in acceptance. He takes a second, closely examining your face, before moving in the direction of his car. your face heats up ever so slightly, the butterflies fluttering in your stomach not something you were wanting to experience.

You are just friends, a little voice screams in the back of your mind. But the way he looks at you makes you wonder – what if there could be something more?

You were quick with your goodbyes to your team, informing them Oscar had pestered your walls down enough to convince you to ride with him. You comically exaggerate it as much as you can, making him into some sort of creepy guy who doesn’t leave you alone until you finally agree to go out with him. They all laugh, hard, which confuses you until a hand taps on your shoulder, revealing the man himself standing awkwardly behind you.

You excuse yourself from the group, laughter echoing behind you as you and Oscar walk away, his teasing grin matching your own.

“You really think I’m some annoying loser?” he teases, bumping his elbow into yours as you enter the hotel carpark. You barely even notice his hand resting softly on the small of your back as he guides you towards his car.

“Ha ha,” you sarcastically laugh, purposely losing all tone from your voice. He shakes his head as he silently giggles to himself, opening the passenger door for you. You thank him faintly, making a mental note of his little actions that have really established him at the respectful, gentlemanly one on the grid; and rightfully so.

Getting in himself, he revs the engine before pulling away from the crowded midday carpark. A soft silence envelops you, punctuated only by the gentle hum of the radio. It wasn’t uncomfortable, nor foreign, sitting in the quiet of each other’s presence. In fact, the tranquillity was a welcomed constant in your ever busy careers.

You had known Oscar for a couple years now, and he was one of the few drivers who actively went out of his way to maintain a positive relationship off the track, despite your lives depending on besting the other ever odd weekend.

As the car navigated the city’s complex grid, the beauty of Albert Park in autumn faded from view, leaving you in awe of the towering Melbournian metropolis—a testament to human ingenuity that always amazed you.

“You drove really well yesterday,” he gives, not necessarily trying to fill the comfortable silence.

“Thank you, Osc. It was certainly better than the crash I had in Bahrain!” you laugh, beginning to find it increasingly hard to ignore his constant glances over to you. “You drove a great race too! That overtake of Leclerc was really quite something.”

He sighs, dismissing the comment as if it meant nothing. He tried so hard to act nonchalant on the surface, but internally? He adored hearing any praise you had for him, even if it wasn’t directly from you, but instead Lando or the PR manager telling him you said ‘Osc is so beyond talented!’

It didn’t take much for you to compliment him, which was the best part; he was always doing something amazing that prompted telling him just how good he was, or how lucky he had gotten that day, or how cool his special livery looked.

Even it was miniscule, you always had a comment for him that would make his day.

You hadn’t even noticed the car slowing to a stop, pulling over on the side of some random suburban road until you were at a full stop, the engine beginning to smoke under the hood.

“Oscar what the hell have you done…” you raised an eyebrow, stifling a laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

“Uh, I’m not sure but I reckon we should maybe get out of the car,” he stutters, pushing himself out of his side before opening the hood to assess the severity of the situation.

You shook your head in disbelief, a chuckle escaping your lips at the absurdity of your situation. Here you are, stuck on the side of the road, while a Formula 1 driver fumbles under the hood. Talk about irony.

It was difficult, watching him rattle around underneath the hood when he clearly had no expertise here and not laugh your ass off. “This feels like…some sort of karma for forcing me to ride with you. I thought you knew how to drive?” you finally laugh, the ludicrosity of it all hitting you like a brick wall.

You couldn’t help but chuckle as you watched him struggle – maybe he needed more than a racing licence to handle car troubles.

“Hey, i didn’t twist your arm to get in, love,” he huffs. “And I am an amazing driver, thank you so very much.” He tries to stifle the smile breaking out on his face, but you notice it before it got hidden away.

Before you are able to retaliate, a middle-aged couple emerges from the house you had broken down in front of.

“You fellas alright?” the man asks, pushing the gate outwards so they have a better vantage point over the smoking vehicle.

“We are so sorry, are we in the way?” you ask, putting on a sympathetic show that you had become so used to having for the fans. “We were just about to call for help, they shouldn’t take too long to get here.”

“Nah mate, they’ll take foreva to get ‘ere and cost ya an arm an’ a leg. Let me help youse,” he offers, but doesn’t allow you the option as he waddles over to where Oscar is still hunched over.

The woman moves to stand next to you, introducing herself, Kristyn, and her husband, Mitch. You give yours in return, to which she compliments you on your name. “’ve never met one before,” she muses, repeating your name gently under her breath to herself.

You smile softly, making light small talk as Mitch explains to Oscar what is at fault with the engine.

“You two seem like a gorgeous couple. How long’ve you been datin’?” she asks, not noticing the caught-off-guard expression you have on your face.

You feel heat rush to your cheeks as she compliments you, your heart racing at the unexpected attention. It almost bugs you more than you would have anticipated, a sense of embarrassment creeping along your flushed skin.

You ponder telling her the truth, that you aren’t together, but figure it would be easier to go along with it, for her and your sake.

“Almost a year now, yeah,” you smile, feigning a sense of admiration for your ‘boyfriend.’

“Aw, bless your sweet young hearts,” she hums, gently patting your shoulder as if to say you had her approval. It was weird, but it felt nice to have her endorsement of a relationship that wasn’t even real. Maybe you wanted more with Oscar?

You nod along, answering any and all of her follow up questions about him, like how you met, how he asked you out, if marriage was on the table. You almost enjoyed making up a whole story for her, weaving this intricate narrative for her to invest herself in. the pair of you had gotten so caught up in each other that you hadn’t noticed the car being put back together, Mitch reviving the engine in approval of a job well done.

“Well, at least he isn’t the only one who can’t handle car troubles!” you muse, laughing with Kristyn as the boys make their way over to you.

Mitch wraps a lose arm around his wife, and you follow his lead as you intertwine your own around Oscars waist, to which he accepts with no questions.

“Thank you so much for your troubles,” he murmurs. “Can i give you some money or something? It’s the least we could do.”

The couple scoff in sync, laughing at the idea of being paid for merely helping out a stranger. “Nah, we don’t want your dough mate. Just don’t blow the car up, that’ll be enough.”

“Are you sure? Please, let us compensate you in some way, as a thank you,” you suggest.

“Maybe you should drive instead of him, aye?” Kristyn laughs, breaking the four of you into a fit of giggles. You nod in agreement, to which Oscar immediately shoots down with the reason of it’s his car.

“Well, thank you again for your help. We really appreciate it.” Oscar squeezes your shoulders, then releases you as he walks over to the passenger side to open it for you. It wasn’t until then that you realised how much you had been leaning into his side, missing the warmth of him almost immediately. You say your goodbyes, telling them it was really nice to meet them, and one final thank you for their kindness.

As you drive on, laughter spilling between you, you can’t help but think maybe this unexpected detour was just what you needed to explore what’s brewing beneath the surface.

.・。.・゜✭・♥︎・✫・゜・。.

as always, feedback is appreciated!

[fools-ramblings-and-whatnot]

Kind!Stubborn!Yuu x Jade, Trials and True love, there is enough proof that the twin would potentially wake up the prefect due to them genuinely being close, but there is still an anxiety about trusting one of the TWEELS until they DO actually wake up, maybe comedy if you'd like! Sorry if this is too much or little, had no clue how to word it

I havent seen anything where someone who wasnt a housewarden woke up the reader with a kiss so i was just curious how you'd go about it if you did pick this one up, have a good day! :]

Trials and True Love: Shock The Heart

(Jade x Kind!Stuborn!Reader (GN))

For the premise , please refer to this Drabble

Note: Indentions mean flashbacks; Reader is Yuu.

Also, excuse my Grammar.

This is the only Request I will write from the last time I opened my Request, as this is the only Ask that adhere to my specific rules.

Lastly, special thanks to @twstarchives as I took some dialogues from their translations.

.

.

.

Summary:

“Oh my, you seem to have taken a fancy to me.”

“So what if I did?”

That was the last conversation Jade had with the Prefect before the "Sleeping Beauty"incident occurred. He is confident that their conversation that day meant something.

That the Prefect was hinting at him to really look at them.

And as he prepared his documents for the trial, he swallows down any form of doubts in his mind, determined to wake up you up with true loves' kiss.

If only it was that easy.

In the matter of Finding the Ramshackle Prefect’s True Love: The case of Jade Leech vs the Faculty council 

The antecedent facts are as follows, according to the testimony of Mr. J. Leech and the evidence presented:

Met the first time during investigation of Student Injuries (Testimony from C.Diamond,R.Rosehearts, and etc.)

Worked as a team during the Vacation break, fostered camaraderie (attached photos attached, similar photos of the same event posted in the Magicam of K. Asim, J. Viper, Ashengrotto ,F.Leech, A.Trappola, and D.Spade also submitted as evidence. Printed screenshots included timestamp, digital copy submitted in Flashdrive with links to Original posts)

The Prefect  and Jade are clubmates  in Mountain Lovers club,wherein  Defendant is the founder and sole member, joining in their own will.(Attached Fulfilled Sign up sheet, approved club member contract, listed in the Official club member list with stamp of NRC, all Original documents and timestamps)

Worked together in Monstro lounge, Yuu working there without coercion�� (Original copy of contract of Employment, Original copy of payroll records, Original copy of Employee Group photos)

Has been seen together in the library in the past few weeks (Printed copy of conversations with dates, digital screenshots submitted in Flashdrives, handwritten scraps of paper detailing several meet ups also attached with copies)

Exchanged phone numbers (One screenshot, printed with copy)

Give gifts to each other (Letter of thanks hand written by the Prefect, Gift wrapper used, Origami paper animals and mushroom with Prefect’s thumb marks, a detailed forensic investigation attesting that it is Prefect’s thumb marks)

Photos of the  Prefect and Defendant together showcasing their camaraderie and closeness (Printed screenshots of images posted on Magicam, digital version submitted with links to Original Posts;10-20 pieces of Polaroid photos together, and an Affidavit attesting to the veracity of the images)

Scrapbook gifted by the Prefect (Thumb prints of Prefect present)

Defendant alleges that there exists a prima facie certainty that he and the Prefect have mutual romantic affiliations as presented in the gathered pieces of evidence and Testimonies.

Jade had thoroughly prepared for the trial, he also thought that the whole thing was a bit too much dramatic. However, he thanked the professors’ common sense or else, your lips would be tainted by just any man who thought they even had a chance with you. Just the thought of it fills his blood with so much rage, he doesn’t mind getting dirty but, the laws on land would restrict him for any vindication he would have sought to achieve if things had went in a different direction.

Jade looked down at the Prefect who looked expectantly at him. You tried to stand taller while looking up at him, trying to make yourself bigger unconsciously in front of his taller self. “Hmmm, I don’t know.” Jade teased, giving you a thoughtful look, his smile however bearing his intent.” I take my club activities seriously, not that I don’t think you won’t...However, I must warn you, if you cannot devote yourself to the club, you might as well swim along now.” Jade stepped back when he felt a poke on his side. He felt a hint of annoyance. For a moment, he had the urge to retaliate and attack you for violating his personal space. He reeled it in. “Trust me, I wouldn’t put my neck on the line if I didn’t mean what I wanted to do.” You explained, indignant. There’s a certain stubbornness in your eyes that makes Jade want to open up your head to know what you’re thinking. Still, he lets you speak your mind as the unexpected interaction begins to pump adrenaline in his veins. You were making him feel so many emotions at once, he can’t help but be enthralled. After you were done with listing down your qualifications, Jade looked down on you again. “Why do you want to be in my club?” he asks, serious this time. You grinned. “Just like you, I want to explore this magical world. Wouldn’t it be fun if we do it together?”

As Jade began answering the Professors’ interrogation he was beginning to lose any doubts he may have had about your intentions towards him, also maybe because he finds it easy to answer the council’s questions. He wasn’t lying about anything he had said or had written down, although maybe he left out some facts here and there. Some truths do not need to be known by the public, its between you and him.

“Well, everything seems to be in order.” Trein says, scanning the documents once again. 

More than a Trial, the entire thing looked like a staff meeting given that the whole thing occurred within Ramshackle’s lounge. The two  Professors all sat on the sofa near the stairs, while Jade sat on the opposite side facing the windows. The blinds were shut and the old Ramshackle lights kept flickering, Jade understands why the old building needed constant repairs. ” As for your witnesses, all testimony seems to be original.”

Vargas was outside the dorm, guarding the place, while Sam was playing substitute teacher to fill in one of the professor’s shoes. So there were only two professors he had to face.

While the old Professor looked over the documents again, the younger Professor scrutinized Jade instead. Crewel, with his discerning eye and watchful gaze, roamed his eyes over him as if he was a guilty criminal and not a student. 

Jade respected the Professor for his power, yet he still found it uncomfortable to be the tailend of the fashionable man’s observations. 

You got a taste of your own medicine, huh Jade?

“I enjoy observing people, however I get uncomfortable when it’s done to me. I suppose this would mean I’m shy?” “If you’re shy, then I am an Ignilhyde student.”

Jade almost cracked a smile, remembering you and hearing your voice in his head. It would be an outright lie to say he didn’t miss you. Stubborn and sarcastic you might be, he missed the sound of your voice. 

“I think I’d like to eat something light before exercising. I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I tend to get hungry easily.”

You raised your eyebrow at Jade as you trekked up the mountains.” You didn’t eat?”  “Embarrassing to admit it, I may have gotten excited on the prospect of on a new hiking trail and forgot to eat my meal.” He admitted, feeling a little sheepish that he had to admit such a thing to you. It seems like Jade often loses his cool when it comes to his hobbies. He is now more used to his human legs, but it doesn’t mean he has entirely adapted to land, especially climbing up steep hills. NRC had banned certain areas from being within student reach,you, however, had managed to convince the Headmage to let the Mountain Lover’s Club go to uncharted territories. “Ah, well, here you go.” Finding a nice spot on the forest floor, Yuu settled down to sit, patting their side, beckoning Jade to sit with them. “ I packed some sandwiches. Hope you like tuna and vegetables, because that’s all I got and some chocolates.”  Jade was about to politely decline, he had packed his own food for the trip. “You are far too kind, however I— is that your sandwich???” The sandwich Yuu offered looked like a bunch of vegetables was dumped between two pieces of bread, if there was tuna meat there he would not know. The Prefect scowled at his reaction but still handed the thing to Jade, who was a little too dumbfounded to stop them from pulling him down to sit while simultaneously putting the sandwich in his hand.  It was surprisingly delicious, and could use a bit more tuna, however the mix of vegetable and spices made him bite back any comment he wanted to give. You began to explain that it was made from some herbs you foraged. “Did you like the food?” Jade was still a bit famished, but he did enjoy it. “Quite so, you must teach me the recipe some time.” You nodded, and there he saw mischief in your eyes.

“Sure, I got a favor though.”  Jade blinked. Jade listened as you explained that you got permission to go into the part of the forest because Crowley given you and errand, and you in turn took it as an opportunity to not only get to explore the place, but also to get Jade permission to explore with you. Now Jade owes you a favor. And you also got yourself a bodyguard on your outing. “Isn’t it fun to share your interest with others?” You say, as if you weren’t doing an odd job .” The Headmage didn’t give me a deadline, we can explore this part of the hills as much as we want. Killing two birds with one stone.” You say proudly. Badump. Another sudden jolt of excitement. For the entirety of that day, Jade and the Prefect went exploring the most enchanted part of the forests, both their eyes shining in enthusiasm as they took in all the wonders of nature. Jade could feel the buzz of magic in the air, and the Prefect reveled at the new discoveries, taking pictures with left and right. It seems like you weren’t losing energy any time soon.

You didn't bother Jade as he gleefully foraged some new mushrooms, it seems like you still had your sense of preservation intact to not interrupt him when he was busy. As soon as Jade stood up from his spot, he  found himself getting pulled into a photo, one hand holding a new mushroom he has discovered.  “ Smile!” you say, ghost camera raised up and facing the both of you. For the first time in a while, he gave a sincere sharp toothed grin without malice.

“Well, then, let’s let him in because he seems like the Perfect True Love Candidate!” Crowley declares in between the two professors, Jade forgot he was there for a moment, he never really spoke throughout the trial. He didn’t seem sincere either, he just seems like he wanted to get things over with and fly off to who knows where. Maybe he misses the Prefect, his errand person.

Jade wanted to pluck out those feathers off his and sprinkle him with lemon juice.

Usually, the trial would also be attended by the Ghosts of Ramshackle, fortunately for Jade, they had pre-arranged plans in the netherworld. Meanwhile, Grim, who had seen him enter through the dorms, flew out from who knows where.

The two professors looked at each other, then they nodded at Crowley. However, before the Headmage could speak, a small crowd barged in the room, with Professor Vargas trailing after them.

“We object!”

“Absolutely not!”

“This trial is a sham-NYAAHHH!”

Jade’s nonchalant facade faltered.

 Ah yes, your friends... 

Grim had called for back up.

Jade cannot fathom how you deal with your so-called group, maybe some of them were rational or interesting, like Jack, Epel, Ortho hell even Sebek was amusing. However, the two Heartslabyul friends of yours had been beginning to irk him. 

At first, the two seem to run away, willing to leave you behind whenever he comes over to chat with you about club activities. But soon enough, they began to be nuisances, pulling you away from him by making ridiculous excuses, all of which you shut down, so that you two won’t converse. It was amusing at first, but now it was getting on his nerves. Ace Trappola and Deuce Spade had been overprotective of you, dare he say both seem to be holding romantic feelings towards you. However, it is Jade you willingly approached to stay with and share your interest with the world.

If it was permissible on land, he’d show them a sample of how he got his earring.

Alas, land rules seem to be kinder than those of the sea.

And you wouldn’t like it if he does what's in his mind either, given your protective nature. You always seem more fearless when it comes to those you care for, and it doesn’t go well with Jade, the thought of you hating him.

Really, you attract such a rowdy bunch, it must be because you're too accepting of people's...quirks.

Jade stared at the gift you gave him, it was small enough to carry, however big enough to be used as a journal. All in all, it was quite portable.

“ It’s a scrapbook!” You declare with glee, he half believed you were gonna bounce any moment now with the whimsy in your voice but you didn’t. You were often quiet, but when you got excitable, it truly shows.  You two were in the library, as he was discussing with you the discoveries you found the last time you went hiking, identifying even the leaves you found on the ground. It was a regular briefing session after every activity.  You explained how Jade could preserve some of the plants he found, explaining the drying process of the flowers and the leaves. You also explained how it can help keep track of the discoveries, and is a more fun and novel way to record things compared to typing it up digitally.

“This will be our club’s legacy!” You cheered quietly, pulling him down by the hem of his coat as you whispered in his ear after the librarian gave you both a stink eye. “ We could put the photos I take here, it’s like we’re actual explorers.” Not a bad idea, Jade thought. It was smart and it made things more interesting. He doesn’t seem to mind working together to build a legacy with you.  The determination in your eyes sparked like jellyfish in the skies. Badump! Badump! “Very well, let’s work on ‘our’ scrapbook.” And so the two of you did, chatting over the phone over what to do, what to put in it, and the next club meeting’s topic. You even suggested putting in some recipes based on the plants you foraged, making sure that no one ever eats the one herb that got your tongue speaking gibberish for two hours straight. It's been awhile now, and Jade doesn’t feel like giving any snide comments when you unconsciously poke or hold unto him anymore. He seems to have found comfort in your presence.

The Professors have berated the unsolicited guests, however, with Grim vouching for them, and given their relationship with the Prefect, the two professors let them interrogate and cross-examine his evidence.

“ This is clearly fake!” Ace declared, holding up a polaroid photo of you and Jade in the forest.

“Yeah, fake!” Deuce and Grim echoed. 

Epel looked at the photo and gave it to Ortho who scanned it.

“It doesn’t seem to be digitally manipulated.” The flame-haired first year states. Ace and Deuce groaned in disappointment.

Epel didn’t harbor any ill will towards Jade, however he is still aware of what happened in the past with Octavinelle, as well as his sneaky ways. He just can’t let one of his friends be take advantage of like that. Jack echoes the same sentiments, however he is much more level headed than the Adeuce duo, he is simply there just in case the Eel-mer pulls off any of his tricks. So is Sebek, who seems to not want to be there, but still stays, he seems more alert than Jack, watching every movement of the Octavinelle student.

“This is forged handwriting!” Deuce says, unsure of himself as he raised one of the documents which was labeled to be in the Prefect’s handwriting.

“Proof?” Jade asks.

Deuce looked flustered and couldn’t say anything back. 

Jade’s suave smile returned.

They were just a bunch of fools who bark more than bite. Jade doesn’t really need to do anything as the unorganized bunch seems to be getting on the nerves of the professors, too.

Every photo, handwriting and evidence they pick up is confirmed by Ortho to be authentic, and with every confirmation the first year's confidence depletes.

It's just a matter of time.

The door got kicked open and Floyd walked in followed by Azul.

Jade sighed, exasperated. The professors and Crowley groaned and some of the first years stepped back.

“Jade~ We’re here to help or whatever! Hehe.” Floyd plopped to the space next to his brother.”This seems so fun, you should have called me in.”

Azul was much less flamboyant when he came in, apologizing to the others for their sudden appearance, smooth-talking his way so that the professors would let him and Floyd testify in Jade’s favor.

When you were desperate for money due to your meager allowance, Jade had convinced you to work for Monstro Lounge. In the past, you would have declined due to the last time you were coerced to work there, however, given your newfound friendship with Jade, you reluctantly agreed. Jade wasn’t subtle in his preference over you when it came to the staff, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t work you to the bone just like Azul did. And you were fine with that, for you had expressed that you take it as an insult to your skills when you are not treated equally as the rest. Still, you did not say no to taking some of the “wrong order” drinks that returned to the kitchen that Jade needed to dispose off, nor the meals that were a bit “burnt on the side” to be served. With you working in Monsto Lounge, you had more time chatting with Jade outside of topics of club activities. You were very chatty when it came to your hobbies, but you were a bit guarded when it came to your life from the other world. You were smart, Jade liked that. Still, as you two become closer, you began permitting yourself to tell him stories about your world, which he was equally intrigued in. In turn, however, you make him spill some of his stories from the sea.  Sometimes, Floyd gets so irritated when the two of you talk post-work hours when the lounge is supposed to close, as he wanted to go back to his room and sleep, that he just turns off the light on both of you.

Meanwhile, Azul cut off some madols from your paycheck to reimburse the “utility cost” you two use up when you stay a little late in the lounge.  You got so upset  by the pay-cut that Jade was tempted to leave Azul to fend for himself at the next lunchtime rush hour.  Oh wait, he wasn’t tempted, he did actually leave the lounge for a quick “break” during saturday lunch hour. It was a mess back there.

Azul learned his lesson.

Jade wants to strangle his brother right there and now.

Azul was able to word his story properly, highlighting the closeness of the Prefect and Jade when the former worked at Mostro Lounge. No doubt, he was killing birds with one stone.

First, he was showing the professor’s that his business and employees were doing well and not being subjected to unfair business practices because Jade and you had time to foster romance, and Second, by testifying for Jade, the eel-mer will owe him a debt of gratitude.

However, Floyd was a different issue. He answered the first years and professor’s questions without thinking of the way he is phrasing it, and Jade was not permitted to interrupt lest he ‘compromises the testimony’, according to Ace.

“Yeah, Jade is always thinking about Shrimpy. He has this whole notebook full of their info.”

“Like what?” Ace asks. Deuce looked ready to throw a punch.

“Likes, dislikes, blood type and all that. Sizes too!”

Shut up! Shut up!

Epel and Jack got a sour look on their face, and the professor’s look at Jade pointedly. Even Sebek, who also collects information about his lord, raised an eyebrow at Floyd’s statement.

“It was for club purposes, the Perfect has access to my information too. The Blood type is in case of emergency, and the size is for the club jacket.” Jade intervened.

“Nyah! You’re not supposed to speak!” Grim yelled, to which Crewel quietened him down.

“So anyways, Jade and Shrimpy seem to be very interested in each other and all that, Jade talks about them a lot and sometimes it gets very annoying.”

Jade will punch his brother after all this, he thinks.

“Oh yeah, he also has some of their things in his drawer!”

Sevens, Floyd shut up!

He was making Jade look like a crazed stalker instead of a prince charming.

Now even Azul gave  Jade a quick judgemental look.

“ He even glues the stuff Shrimpy gives him on his notebook and grins creepily, wahhh~ Really, it gives me goosebumps!” Floyd adds.

“ORIGAMI! THEY’RE ORIGAMIS THE PREFECT HAS MADE!” Jade blurted out, unable to keep his cool any longer.

It seems like everyone was taken aback by his uncharacteristic reaction. “ I’m sorry…ehem..” he tried to regain his cool. After a moment, he returned with his polished smile, eyes sending daggers at his brother for a quick second before closing it and addressing the others.”They’re origami art that the prefect made, it's in the ‘scrapbook’ I have submitted.” He points on the evidence on the coffee table, indeed there were origamis there.

Despite the chaos, Floyd was undeterred and kept talking.

“Ya know, Jade has been acting odd more than usual. He looks stupid, but he also looks happy.” the twin continued, this time his voice taking a more serious note.”He seems to sincerely like Shrimpy, he wouldn’t be here otherwise. There’s no benefit with sticking with 'em’ even if Shrimpy is a lil  bit fun, after all. He’s not stupid to be doing all these for flimsy feelings.” Floyd scratched the back of his head.”So just let my brother try waking em' up, he’s proved himself enough, and none of you even have a lick of evidence against him, just a bunch of useless ramblings.”

The room went quiet.

The professors, even Crowley, looked at each other and nodded.

“Mr. Jade Leech, let me guide you up.”

Jade and the Prefect found themselves caught up in the rain from their latest hike. Thankfully, there was a nearby cave they could take shelter in. “Are…you…alright?” You said as you scooted closer to the fire. Only your hiking jacket got wet, and it seems like your inner clothes did not. Still, it was particularly cold.  Jade had made a small fire and was setting aside his jacket to dry in the corner. The teal-haired second year sighed, he can’t believe you were asking for his condition when you were the one shaking despite being covered in a blanket.  You really were far too kind. Jade came from the ocean, he wasn’t susceptible to the cold as humans were, you knew that, but still asked for his condition. He smiled. “I am fine, Prefect, thank you for asking.” He put his hand on his chest and gave you a reassuring smile. Yuu rolled their eyes, then he beckoned him to come over to their side. Jade agreed, curious on what they intend to do. Once he is sat, you spread the blanket around his shoulder too, and huddled close to him.”So that..we…brrrr…don’t get as cold.” You say, your shoulder touching his. “I know you don’t like it when I ‘clingy’ , as you word it, but this time we’re talking about life and death.” The seriousness of your tone coupled with your trembling form, made him chuckle, you looked like a wounded animal.” Hey, I’m being…brrr..serious here.” Jade just nodded, humoring you. There was a moment’s silence. Badump! Badump! Badump! “If you knew I didn’t like it, why did you still approach me?” He asked, "It has always been in his mind.” Aren’t you afraid I’ll bite.” He teased, making a display of his sharp teeth. “I'd like to live, thank you very much”, you scoffed. Then your voice softened.”At first I didn’t mean to, it was a force of habit…however now…”you paused. Badump! Badump! Badump! You murmured something Jade didn’t catch, so he leaned down to listen. You turned your head and met his yes. “I don’t think I am afraid of you…” He heard a gasp. From him? From you? Who knows. You lean in closer. “Maybe you should be…” his eyes glazed over, the beating in his chest battling the thunder from outside. “Hmmm, but I think I’d like to trust you.” You whisper softly, he could feel your breath on his cheek. He feels goosebumps on his neck, and another kind of excitement feels him. Something akin to pure utter joy. “Careful, I might think you fancy me…” You grinned. “So what if I did?”

Nothing happened that night.

You two were rescued by the professors that day, and it was the last conversation he had with you in person given that your busy schedules prevented you from meeting up. He heard about you intending to clean your dorm, however, he didn’t mean that it would lead to all this trouble.

Still, it seems like it was worth it.

The feel of your lips on his was worth it.

When you awoke, you shot up from your bed to a seated position. Jade was barely able to dodge your sudden movement.

He couldn’t help it, he laughed.

You blinked your eyes, dumbfounded at the way he is laughing. His laugh sounded…nice…Maybe a bit evil sounding, but it was nice.

You touched your lips, remembering that you felt something soft land on it.

“What was that?”You ask, although you felt like you knew the answer.

Jade brushed a stray hair from your face, his eyes looking at you softly. 

He took your hand and laid a chaste kiss on your knuckles.

“The consequences of shocking my heart.”

End notes:

Word Count:4k+

That's a lot of words! I hope you enjoyed the Oneshot. I would like to hear youe thoughts in the Ask!-Quill

[clairewritesandrambles]

Hello, it’s my birthday today, and I was wondering if you would be willing to write a Scott blurb for me about anything at all really 😅 I’m going to be asking Ivy the same question, as I want to see what you both have to say 💕 thank you (smut? 👀)

Oh my god, happy birthday!!!

I feel like this is the perfect excuse to talk about Scott eating pussy, because he definitely makes birthday sex completely about you. That man eats pussy for one reason, and one reason only: To have his ego stroked when he sees you being a complete mess for him.

WARNING: Not beta'd, sorry for any mistakes

NSFW below cut, 18+ only:

You tugged on Scott's hair as he pinched a nipple, the sensation combining with his work between your legs to make you buck your hips in pleasure. He groaned in response to the movement, moving his head to slip his tongue deeper into you. The action made his nose bump into your clit, the overstimulation of the time he has spent between your legs making the tiny contact send shockwaves through your body.

"Scott, fuck, please. Please, come fuck me." You breathed, sinking into the pillows in exhaustion. Scott had already pulled two orgasms from you with his mouth and fingers, his current movements showcasing his intent to coax a third one.

Scott hummed against you, sending vibrations to your clit that had you gasping in response. "You can give me one more, baby. After you let me taste you again, then I'll fuck you into the mattress since you've been such a good girl. Isn't that right, baby?"

Despite how exhausted you were, you nodded at his words. The feeling of his fingers pumping into you was too delicious to deny, your answer reinforced by the praises that dripped from his lips at the sight of your nodding head.

Scott became impossibly more determined in his movements, his fingers moving faster as he curled them to find that delicious spot in you with every thrust. His tongue licked at you, his groans sending vibrations to it as he pushed further into you with his mouth. When he felt you begin to clench around his fingers, pleas for him falling freely from your lips, Scott wrapped his arm around your waist. He pulled you even closer to his face, his strength keeping you in place while he ate you like his life depended on it.

You peered down at him between your thighs at the sound of muffled encouragement around your core, the sight before you throwing you over the edge. Scott's eyes were closed as he desperately ate you out, his dark hair curling over his forehead.

Scott groaned deeply in pleasure as he licked at your arousal, not stopping his motions until you were begging for a break. He left one last kiss on your clit before making his way up your body, stopping to suck on your sweet spots to entice more strangled noises from you.

"Taste so fucking good, baby," he groans, lips falling towards yours. "Have some for yourself." He closes the gap, tongue licking into your mouth. You moaned at the taste of yourself, hand cradling his cheek as you deepened the kiss. "You did so well for me," he cooed, hips moving to align the tip of his cock with your entrance. "You're gonna come that many times on my cock, got it?" You didn't know if you could survive another three orgasms, but the look in Scott's eyes was all the encouragement you needed.

"Good girl," he praised, slowly sinking into you as you stretched around him.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

this is probably stupid to ask, but do you like snape? or the marauders? there's always fanwars happening between marauders stans and snape stans. tbh i'm just curious where you stand (i like both, and prefer their canon selves rather than the fanon which is btw really stupid. they feminized sirius so much its not even sirius anymore.) what made you like snape? if you do, or are you neutral with him? just for a change of question since i always ask about harry.

Thanks for the ask! I don't think it's stupid.

I prefer their canon counterparts as well, the Marauders fanon has so little to do with canon I can hardly call the characters by the same name. They just aren't the same characters. Anyway, I'm gonna try and summarise my highly subjective opinions about them here.

1. Sirius Black

He's my second most favorite character and my favorite among the characters you mentioned. I wrote about him a lot on this blog, so I don't really feel the need to write more.

But, he's smart, resilient, and goofy on occasion. His love for Harry is one of my favorite aspects of his character because he loves Harry so much. And he has his flaws. He can be cruel, cold, and arrogant and I wouldn't like him as much if he wasn't visibly a member of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black regardless of how much he tried to get away from his legacy. I love how messy his feelings about his family are. He left Regulus' room as it was, even though the rest of the house got cleaned by the Order. He stayed in his mother's bedroom even when all the conversations he had with her portrait were in screams. I love his distrust in Dumbledore after everything he's been through and how he chooses to remain for Harry's sake — he's willing to do anything for Harry's sake.

I just truly love Sirius.

2. Severus Snape

He's the next on this list because I do like Snape, he's not a character I'm passionate about, but I like him. I think he shouldn't be a teacher (I think he hates being a teacher more than his students hate him teaching them) but he's a talented potion maker and wizard. And he is a very entertaining character, even without knowing everything about him.

But what really makes me like Snape is that I find him interesting. I think his psychology is interesting, as is his dynamic with Lily, Dumbledore, and Voldemort. Snape is a fascinating character to study from a lot of angles, and even as a reader, there is quite a bit that's up in the air about him because he's that good at being a spy and not giving us anything.

The other major thing I like about him is his competence as a spy and wizard. If there's one thing I love in my fictional characters — it's competence (and intelligence). I often joke with my irl friends that Snape is the only competent Death Eater and the only competent member of the Order of the Phoenix. We then joke that if we were in his shoes, surrounded by a lot of people who don't actually do anything and we're the only ones affecting this war from both sides, we'd probably be bitter too.

A little note that seems overlooked about Snape often in the fandom, in general, is how we think, "Oh, he's so great at Occlumancy and not being emotional" — that's not strictly true. When it comes to Lily or the Marauders all his well-crafted Occlumancy kinda goes out the window. In books 3 and 5 he throws actual temper tantrums about Sirius Black. Like, I feel Snape, deep down is actually super not well adjusted and is an emotionally unstable mess, but he learned to pretend otherwise. Basically, all the cold facade is just that — a facade. He isn't really that stoic.

3. James Potter

I'm weird about James. Like, he's almost a nonentity and what we do hear about him is either negative or comes from biased sources.

I do tend to give him more of the benefit of the doubt than a lot of other fans who prefer canon James do. He was awful when he was younger, he was a bully and he assaulted Snape and there is no excuse for his actions. That being said, I can believe he changed. War changes you and you'd be hard-pressed to find a 21-year-old who isn't ashamed of a lot of what they did or said when they were 15. And yes, some of what James did is definitely more extreme than that of the average person, but it isn't that extreme compared to the environment he grew up in. Remus tells Harry everyone was casting Levicorpous on each other in the halls. I'm not saying any of the bullying is okay, I'm just saying it probably seemed normal to him and this is important context. Same as I don't think Snape is abusive towards students when put in the context of their culture and environment where, until recently, they caned students (Snape actually seems very averse to corporeal punishment. He also likely treats Harry very different than he does literally any other student, but this is the James section).

I just, like the idea of James changing for the better. I'd like to think he did. That life and war and loss taught him something.

4. Peter Pettigrew

Probably an unpopular opinion, but I like Pettigrew more than Lupin. He's awful, he's pathetic, he's a cowardly rat man and I find his sniveling funny. Whenever I try to think of a what-if scenario in my head, Pettigrew is somehow the key to it. Because he's a character that affects so much of the plot in some incredibly crucial moments — he betrayed James and Lily, he resurrected the Dark Lord, and later, he allows Harry's survival. Idk, I just find his situation and just how pathetic he could get fascinating. It's, like, there is no rock bottom for this guy, he keeps digging. Like, you can't get more pathetic than living as a rat for 12 years when you could've moved to Argentina or something.

And at the same time, he clearly has some residual care for Harry for his father's friendship. He has so many opportunities to kill Harry or kidnap him when he runs away to join Voldemort — but he doesn't. Even after Sirius escapes and he knows his time is up, he still leaves Harry alive. When he is supposed to kill him in book 7, he doesn't, he again lets him go and pays with his own life for it. Like, again, idk, it's just how I feel.

5. Remus Lupin

I know I placed Lupin last, and it's because I don't personally like him that much. Pretty sure this is a little controversial, but I don't really like book Lupin, he does not vibe with me, at all. (Though I'd choose book Lupin over Marauders fandom Lupin every time)

Like, it bothers me that he doesn't actually care about Harry (the only one on the list who willingly physically harmed Harry, in a moment of anger, but still). It was Harry who asked to be taught the Patronus, if it was up to Remus, he wouldn't be involved in Harry's life at all. He tried to run on his wife when she got pregnant because he was scared. Like, Petttigrew is given shit for being a cowardly Gryffindor, but, look, you need some guts to betray your friends, so I'd argue Remus is the most cowardly Marauder (it's easy to be brave when you don't care for your own life).

But, all of this is part of his character and the story wouldn't be what it is if Remus bothered to get his head out of his own ass and check up on Harry. How he behaves makes him my personal least favorite Marauder, but I want Lupin to be a cowardly guy who runs away from attachment and responsibility because he doesn't trust himself with anything (especially not anything good). He's not cool, or suave, and he's desperate for people to like him but without actually knowing him because he thinks that if they do they'd run away screaming like he wants to run from himself. Honestly, I don't get why the Mauraders fandom made James the people-pleaser when Remus Lupin is right there always telling people what they want to hear so they'd like him.

Again, these are all my own personal subjective opinions, but yeah.

[nondelphic]

thank you so much for 700 followers!! this is so insane to me and i'm so happy people are enjoying my posts.

i know most of you are here for my ""relatable writing posts"" but i also know some of you are interested in who i am, and specifically my writing, so to celebrate hitting 700 followers i thought i'd give you a taste of my writing !! i know i was supposed to tag some ppl but i forgot to write your names down and i can't remember who wanted to be tagged and who didn't 😭😭😭

these are all drafts and i def don't consider myself a great writer, but i think i'm okay at storytelling. regardless, enjoy it for what it is!

this excerpt is from my first completed draft of "the midnight chase." for context, marley is aroace.

-

They sat in silence for a while before Marley shifted towards Lucas. She bit her lip, uncertain of how honest to be. “Lucas?”

He looked at her. “Yeah?”

“You know the party last month? Remember how Elvis kissed me?”

Lucas nodded. Marley averted her gaze, focusing on a path beyond the pond that led to a cliff overlooking the ocean.

“Do you think it’s possible to want that sort of closeness, without wanting it all?” Marley could feel Lucas gaze on her.

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

Marley sighed and let her gaze drop to her feet. Her shoelaces had come undone.

“I mean, I don’t like Elvis like that, but when he kissed me, I felt… warm inside. Like, it’s not something I crave, but it felt nice regardless.”

Lucas remained silent for a moment. Marley looked up to see his gaze thoughtful as he processed her words. The gentle rustling of leaves and the occasional chirp of a bird were the only sounds filling the silence between them. Marley could feel her heartbeat quicken, wondering if she had said too much, or if Lucas might misunderstand her.

Finally, Lucas sighed softly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I get what you’re saying, Marley. I think… it’s natural to want closeness, to feel connected to someone, even if it’s not necessarily about romance. It’s human, you know? We all crave that warmth, that feeling of being wanted or cared for, even if it’s just for a moment.”

Marley nodded, relieved that he understood, but still, there was something else she needed to express. She glanced between Lucas and her shoelaces, her senses searching for any sign of judgement or discomfort, but all she saw was patience and a gentle curiosity.

“I guess it just made me question something that’s been nagging me for a long time,” Marley continued, her voice softer now, almost hesitant. “Like, what if I don’t ever want that kind of connection with someone, but I still want to feel close to people? Is that okay?”

Lucas’s expression softened even more, and he reached out, gently placing a hand on Marley’s shoulder. “Marley, there’s no right or wrong way to feel about these things. You’re allowed to want whatever it is you want—or don’t want. It doesn’t make you any less valid or any less… you.”

Marley let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “Thanks, Lucas. I guess I just needed to hear that.”

and here's another excerpt that shows a bit more of the story...... kinda.

-

As Lucas excused himself to go to the bathroom, Marley looked for Chio. Instead, she ran into Silas.

“Hey,” he said, holding his arm out. “Let’s dance.”

Initially, Marley wanted to say no, but something in Silas’ expression made her do the opposite. She took his arm and he led her to a more secluded part of the dance floor. Marley noticed people staring at them as they walked, not unsurprisingly, considering her and Silas' history.

Silas put a cautious hand on Marley’s back as the song transitioned to a sentimental and slow piano arrangement. 

“You know the map I gave you?” Silas asked. Marley smiled. Yes, the one she and her friends had managed to figure out completely. “Did you solve it?” 

Something in Silas’ expression told Marley he already knew the answer. Did he want help? Had he solved it?

“Yes,” Marley said. Silas nodded, and a smile crept up on his face.

“Me too. Which means… the winner will be determined by who gets to the middle first.”

Marley nodded. “You’re doing it alone?” 

“Yes. I work best alone. I know you’re doing it with your friends.” Something in Marley churned at his answer. It was a typical Silas answer, a simple phrase etched with an edge of passive aggressiveness. Marley had solved it with the help of her friends. He had solved it alone, using only his brains.

“Teamwork is an underappreciated tool,” Marley said, finding herself distancing herself slightly from Silas’ hold on her as they danced.

“Of course. It’s important to be able to work with others. At the end of the day, though, you'll be alone.”

Marley looked into Silas’s eyes, trying to decipher his expression. There was something behind his words, a hint of loneliness perhaps, or maybe a sense of inevitability. She decided to keep the conversation light, not wanting to spoil the mood of the evening.

“Maybe so, but having friends by your side can make a huge difference,” Marley replied, her tone gentle but firm.

Silas nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “I suppose you’re right. It’s just... sometimes it feels like relying on others is a weakness.”

Marley shook her head. “It’s not a weakness, Silas. It’s a strength. Knowing when to ask for help, and knowing you can trust those around you, that’s powerful.”

They continued to dance in silence for a few moments, the slow melody wrapping around them. Marley felt a strange mix of empathy and rivalry towards Silas. She understood his drive and his determination, but she also saw the value in the support system she had with her friends.

As the song came to an end, Silas offered her a small smile. “Thank you for the dance, Marley. And for the perspective.”

Marley returned the smile. “Anytime, Silas. Good luck with the challenge.”

“Good luck to you too,” Silas replied, giving her a polite nod before walking away.

Marley watched him go, feeling a mixture of emotions. She was grateful for her friends and the support they provided, but she also understood the weight Silas carried. She hoped that one day he would realize the value of camaraderie.

Lucas returned from the bathroom, a curious look on his face. “Did I miss something?”

Marley laughed, shaking off the remnants of her conversation with Silas. “Just a dance with Silas. Nothing major.”

Lucas raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. “Shall we continue dancing?”

“Absolutely,” Marley said, feeling lighter and more determined than ever.

They returned to the dance floor, joining their friends in the celebration. The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter, dancing, and shared moments that Marley knew she would treasure for a long time.

As the night wound down, Marley found herself sitting with Chio and Maya on a bench outside the hall, the cool air in the stone-cladden corridor a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the dance floor.

Maya pulled out her phone from under her dress. Marley watched her. “Where did you keep that?”

“Oh, I have all my dressed sewn to include hidden pockets. I hate not being able to carry stuff.”

Chio rolled her eyes dramatically. “Ah, yes, custom sewn gowns with pockets, what a normal and humble thing!”

“It’s not my fault that default dresses don’t come with pockets already,” Maya countered.

“Calling normal dresses ‘default dresses’ is crazy,” Marley snorted. She looked at Chio’s dress. It was a beautifully simple dress with long, wide arms and a simple fabric belt around the waist, in a bright orange colour, contrasting Chio’s blue hair in a seamlessly effortless way.

“To be fair, my dress is also customised,” Chio sighed, smoothing out her skirt, before smirking. “I took it in two centimetres at the waist.”

The three girls burst out into laughter. Maya looked at her phone.

“What time is it?” Chio asked.

“10:45.”

“We should get ready.” Marley said. The Midnight Chase started at midnight, just as the name suggested. And she was not running down the maze in a long dress. Well, she could, she knew multiple people participating who were going directly from the dance to the maze. But they weren’t in it to win it. Marley and her friends were.

Hopefully, Silas would find that working alone is actually the greatest weakness.

Marley had a gnawing feeling that her stance would be proven right.

HELP i'm so scared y'all are gonna think my writing is trash because LET'S BE FR THIS IS JUST FROM MY FIRST DRAFT!!!! i haven't yet edited these scenes so they're kinda cringe but i wanted to show my main project. i do have different writing styles depending on genre though, and i'm tempted to show some of my comedy writing. it's pretty hilarious, if i may say so myself.

anyway, thank you again for 700 followers. thank you so much. each like, reblog, reply, message, or ask brings me so much happiness. you have no clue how much your interest warms my heart (or maybe you do because you know how social media manipulates our brains and their reward system)

[stars-tonight]

Hiii! I'm here for the 100 followers event :), I'll go with popcorn, and would you rather if they are not taken yet! thank you 😁

BAKING DATE (FT. OIKAWA TŌRU)

popcorn -> oikawa tōru

would you rather -> baking date

synopsis: oikawa tōru is multitalented, and these talents obviously extend to baking . . . obviously. pre-timeskip, pre-established relationship, fluff, a bit of a makeout at the end

word count: 455

“i made those cookies, babe, i swear!” oikawa whines, as you set the flour on the kitchen island.

“really, tōru?” you ask. “because they looked and tasted exactly like the cookies from the bakery downtown.”

you weren’t mad. you actually thought it was pretty funny how oikawa kept pretending like he had somehow perfectly baked and iced a dozen cookies to present you with on your birthday a week ago. you just couldn’t resist the chance at making your perfect boyfriend suffer a little.

he drums his fingers on the island. “so you want to . . . make this a competition?”

“yep. one hour, the same ingredients, the same recipes. whomever makes the best cookies at the end wins. i want to know what your baking actually tastes like.” you wink at him.

he pouts. “do i get a kiss if i win?” he asks.

you smirk. “sure.”

~

now, you weren’t especially talented at baking, but if you had the ingredients and a recipe? your boyfriend didn’t stand a chance. and it’s obvious now; oikawa lacked the patience to make precise measurements, and it’s showing in the . . . lumps of dough that are awkwardly piled to resemble spheres. “too much flour, tōru,” you tease.

“shut up,” he mutters, his face red.

you hum. “no kiss for you,” you say, starting to clean up the ingredients.

the easiest thing can set oikawa off, and this is one of them. he gapes at you, eyes and mouth open wide, and watches you in shocked silence as you clean everything up. “what?” you ask finally, once everything is clean.

“why are you so happy about not kissing me?” he complains. “i’m a great kisser! you don’t like kissing me?”

you balk. “no, tōru. i like kissing you. i was just happy i won.”

he huffs dramatically and crosses his arms across his chest. “prove it.”

you sigh. this is another one of your boyfriend’s tactics to get you to kiss him. whatever. you don’t mind. like you need an excuse to kiss him? you lean forward and slot your lips against his. he childishly refuses to kiss you back for a few seconds, but gives in as you wrap your arms around his waist. you melt into his embrace as he hugs you and walks you back until you’re pressed against the counter. his strong arms lift you up and onto the island as he deepens the kiss, never breaking apart. finally, you pull away to take a breath.

“look at that,” oikawa whispers breathlessly, fingers gently tracing circles on your thighs. “even when i lose, i’m winning.”

you cradle his stupidly handsome face in your hands and connect your lips again. it’s safe to say you both win this one.

A/N: finishing up the event with a fic for my ultimate love oikawa! it’s a bit more suggestive than other things i’ve written and ngl i felt really awkward writing the end . . . just further proof that i don’t want to write nsfw lol. a masterlist with all the fics for this event will be coming out shortly

[adrift-in-thyme]

CONGRATS AGAIN ON 200

OK fic requests some fluffy oot zelink. Maybe Link being a dorky teen post games sneaking in to see Zelda?? 👀

THANK YOU <3<3

And tysm for the prompt! It was super fun to write!

Sneaking | Ocarina of Time | G

Link sprints across the courtyard and dives behind a line of shrubbery. Seconds later, a guard marches by, armor clanking noisily. Link watches him go, a grin quirking his lips.

He’s done this countless times before, but the thrill of it never leaves. 

No sooner has the guard turned his back, than Link is up, racing toward the tower in the distance. He’s always been good at sneaking, but this journey is never without a few close calls. Part of him actively invites them. They add to the rush of adrenaline, the feeling of victory when at last he reaches his destination. 

Of course, this would all be easier if he just used the stone mask. He could be across the castle gardens and up that tower in only a few moments. But that would take all the excitement out of it.

A dirt-eating grin still on his face, he glances over his shoulders to ensure Impa hasn’t materialized out of thin air and begins to climb.

A soft breeze blows through his hair, bringing the sounds and scents of the night to him. With the smell of the forest wafting through the air, and owls hooting and crickets chirping, it’s truly a beautiful night. One that he is eager to spend by the side of his favorite person in the world. 

He reaches the top and hauls himself over the window sill. 

“Took you long enough,” says a familiar voice.

Link looks up, smiling as his gaze lands on Zelda standing in the middle of the room in her Sheikah garb, arms crossed over her chest. There’s a grin on her face though, and when he steps toward her, she leans forward to give him a peck on the cheek.

“I’ve missed you,” he murmurs, brushing a stray hair back behind her ear. 

Between her duties and his, it’s growing more difficult than ever to see each other in an unprofessional capacity. Moments like these are painfully rare when they’re able to just be themselves. Zelda and Link, Link and Zelda.

“I’ve missed you too,” she replies, softly.  

She rubs a gentle thumb along the side of his face and he leans into her touch. For a moment they are silent, merely reveling in each other’s presence, but then Zelda gives him a quick kiss and backs away.

“Are you ready?”

Link grins. “Of course. Are you?”

She winks, already rounding him and heading toward the window.

“Always.”

It doesn’t take them long to cross the lawn. They climb the castle wall, quickly, stifling giggles as they sprint past guards and vault over. Epona is waiting dutifully for them on the other side. She gives a welcoming whinny when Link swings up onto her back. He pats her, then holds out a hand to Zelda.

“Your ride, My Princess.”

Her cheeks pink slightly as she takes it. “Why thank you, Sir Link.”

No sooner has she sat down in the saddle, than Link spurs Epona into a gallop. Then, they’re off flying across Hyrule Field laughing and cheering as they zip past trees and leap over obstacles. 

Moments like these are so wonderful, so freeing Link can hardly believe they’re real. But when he chances a glance back at Zelda, looking so beautiful and vibrant and alive, he knows he will treasure them forever. 

Just as he will treasure her forever—the princess who has his heart.

[luetta]

did you know mimics have started evolving and adapting to modern human society, and are now replicating everyday objects? one day, you could hop into your car, ready to go to work. but, as you turn the key, the windows suddenly turn opaque and tentacles snake up from under your seat, wrapping themselves around your thighs, looking for entrances and holding you down. your headrest is more like a visor of flesh, and it wraps around your head, covering your eyes and keeping you in place. more tentacles wrap around your torso from behind the chair, making escape impossible. the chair under you unveils its disguise and is now a tongue-like texture, tasting you all over. tendrils are snaking all under your clothes now, finding lots of fun things to explore and grope. every surface is wet with a slightly acidic, aphrodisiac liquid, which makes your skin extremely sensitive, as well as serving to slowly dissolve those pesky clothes. soon you’re completely naked, squirming and squealing as you begrudgingly let pleasure overwhelm your weakening body and mind. finally, a large, pulsating phallic tentacle extends from what was the steering wheel and forces itself into your mouth and down your throat. now the car simply backs out of your driveway, taking its unwilling passenger far out of town, deep into the woods, where it can fuck, feed on, and impregnate you in private.

to make @anarcho-neptunism relapse :3

[red-flagging]

💛 seb/lewis :-)

(kiss fic prompts!)

a little epilogue to rabbits are chasing :)

Lewis's flight lands at 8:02PM, which means that by 7:31PM, Seb is parked outside the airport arrivals door, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel and scanning the sky for approaching planes.

It's quite silly, getting here so early, but it's not as if there's much left to do at home. There's roast vegetables waiting in the oven, the cauliflower steaks that he started marinating earlier this morning chilling in the fridge. Mina and Ellie are safely ensconced in their duck coop with the heater turned on for the night. The sheets on the guest bed are freshly washed.

The car parked behind him starts up. Its headlights illuminate Seb's cabin. For a moment, he catches a glimpse of himself, harried and too-bright, in the rearview mirror. He scrubs his hands down his face. Christ. Get it together, Sebastian. He is a full 39 years old. Far too old to be getting the same jitters that he did the first time he invited a girl over at age 17, agonizing about what album to have playing when they came back to his room. Lewis is far too old for Seb to be doing all this. Lewis might not even be gay.

His phone buzzes. Seb nearly jumps out of his seat.

Lewis

just landed

getting my luggage now

hows it so freaking cold here

The inside of the car is already fogging up. When he'd asked Lewis to send dates he could come visit and Lewis had said just so you know the next few months are kind of crazy for me, Seb had expected late fall, maybe the holidays. Not the middle of slush season, when all the roads up the mountain have a 50/50 chance of being so muddy that they're undriveable.

Sebastian

I'm outside, in the blue Infiniti :)

He glances back up at himself in the mirror. The scab from where a wood chip caught the corner of his eyebrow while he was sanding the new planter box is almost healed over. His hair looks as good as it's ever going to. If Lewis asks whether he's been using conditioner, he's fucked.

It shouldn't feel like this. Seb beat Lewis to Senna's record, and Lewis still laughed at all his jokes the next season. Lewis watched Seb DNF twice in five races and still said in the media pen that he was waiting for the day Seb would be back up on the podium with him. When they inevitably auction off Lewis's Le Mans racesuit, it'll have to be with Seb's snot all over the front of it, because Lewis let Seb sob all over him and then laughed as he wiped sweat off of Seb's cheek with the sleeve. After all that – the fact that he's about to be in Seb's house for the next week shouldn't make Seb feel like he's standing in front of Lewis naked, without even the promise of a fast car or a good competition to distract Lewis from looking right at him.

His phone buzzes again.

Lewis

outside i think

Seb peers through the windscreen. Lewis – or rather, the blurry figure lugging a giant suitcase behind him that he assumes is Lewis – waves at him from the sidewalk. Seb flashes his lights at him twice.

The back door opens and Lewis's head, along with a burst of cold night air, pops in. "Hey," he says, a little breathlessly. "I don't think this is going to fit in the back."

It does, eventually, but not without a fight that involves Seb having to climb into the trunk alongside Lewis's suitcase and physically wrestle it into place while Lewis shoves from behind. They're both out of breath by the time they finally climb back in the front and slam the doors shut.

"You know, there are beds at the farm," Seb points out. "You didn't have to pack your own."

Lewis shakes his head, tugging off his gloves. His coat collar is turned up around his neck. He's wearing an an ear warmer headband, held in place by two butterfly pins. Every other bit of uncovered skin is pink, even with the heat in the car up at full blast. Lewis shoves his fingers in front of the vents and sighs with relief, closing his eyes. "Ugh, thank God," he says. He sounds exhausted. "Listen, you're lucky I fit everything into one." It sounds far less like a joke than Seb would hope. The fact that the fondness in Seb's chest still manages to outweigh the exasperation is probably a sign that Seb's beyond salvation.

"Next time I'll bring a trailer so you can fit your bathtub and toilet, too," he says, reaching for the keys. The engine purrs to life as he flicks the lights back on, then leans forward to scrub the worst of the fog off the windscreen. The thermometer on the dash says it's still 3 degrees outside. They might still be able to make it back before the slush freezes over. "Okay," he says, sitting back down and twisting around to reach for his seatbelt. "Ready to go?"

Lewis doesn't say anything. When Seb looks over, he's staring out the front window, playing with one of his rings.

"Lewis?" Seb asks.

Lewis's head jerks around. "Hm?" he says. "Oh. Yeah." He doesn't move to put on his seatbelt.

Seb frowns. Kills the engine so he can properly turn in his seat. "Lewis," he says. "Is everything –"

Lewis leans across the console and kisses him.

It's barely half a second. Seb still hasn't moved by the time Lewis sits back down on his side of the car.

"Uh," Lewis says, after a second. He clears his throat. "Sorry. I just – Shit. Sorry. The whole way over, all I could think about was – I had to get it over with before I chickened out."

He's fiddling with his rings again, but his eyes stay fixed on Seb's. His jaw is set. He still looks half-ready to bolt through the door behind him, out into the night.

"Well, you don't have to make it sound like taking your medicine, Christ," Seb says hoarsely, and drags Lewis back across the console to kiss him properly.

Lewis's lips are still cold. When Seb opens his mouth, Lewis sighs, pressing in closer with a soft sound that makes Seb want to go twenty years back in time and kick himself for not figuring out how to make Lewis make that noise sooner. His hands settle on Seb's wrists, holding him in place. Seb slides his own hands up, cradling the back of Lewis's head, to return the favor.

When he finally pulls away just far enough to catch his breath, Lewis follows him, close enough that their noses bump. His eyes are wide. This close up, Seb can see the dark circles under them more clearly.

He closes his eyes. Lewis is still there when he opens them.

"How long have you been awake?" he asks.

Lewis blinks. "What," he says. "Are you talking about."

"Sleep deprivation," Seb says. His heart is pounding hard enough that he feels it in his throat. "People start to get delirious when they're tired enough –"

"I was awake for 24 hours and I didn't kiss you at the end," Lewis interrupts, his eyes sharp and bright. "I'm not making the same mistake twice."

Seb opens his mouth and nothing comes out. He tries again. Still nothing.

"Fuck," he says, closing his eyes. "Okay. Okay." He drags himself back upright and reaches for the keys. "We can – tomorrow. But we should – you need to shower. And sleep." Lewis's hand settles on his leg. Seb rests his own on top of it; after a second, he squeezes Lewis's fingers gently. Lewis flips his hand over and laces their fingers together.

"Yeah," Lewis says. His thumb traces over Seb's knuckles. "That – tomorrow sounds good."

The slush crackles under the tires when Seb starts to move. Ahead of them, the headlights carve a path through the darkness. Lewis's hand is a solid, steady weight against his leg. "Okay," Seb says, to himself, to both of them, to no one. Lewis hums softly from his side of the car. He squeezes Seb's knee gently.

Seb closes his eyes for a second. "Okay," he says quietly. "Yeah. Let's go home."

[woodlaflababab]

hey! can i ask what your thoughts are on sokkaang? why do you ship them?:)

Oh my gosh. Okay, so funnily enough I literally gave a break down to someone yesterday. Sokkaang is my little rare pair gem that I hold close to my heart.

I did write this meta, but that doesn't cover even half my thoughts.

I'll give you the short version first in case you don't want to read my full ramblings:

Sokka is Aang's biggest protector. Aang. The Avatar. Sokka is a nonbender but he don't give a shit bc Aang still needs and deserves protection.

Aang is the biggest believer in Sokka. He thinks all his ideas are genuis, and unironically uses the stupid names he comes up with. He also brings fun to Sokka.

They're smart and wise seperately, but idiots together and I love that. I just think they'd make fantastic partners in all things.

Long Version:

So, I'm a sucker for protective tropes, right? And something that absolutely kills me about Sokka and Aang is that Sokka is a nonbender and Aang is literally the most powerful person on the planet, but it is Sokka who protects Aang. I've always been soft for Aang and more than anything I want good things for him. Too many people throw him at threats, too many people expect great things from him.

Sokka doesn't. He fights Hei Bai for Aang while everyone stands back. He realizes Aang needs them in the Bato episode. His plans to defeat the fire lord are always centered on helping Aang, giving Aang any advantage he can. At this point I'm just repeating my earlier meta BUT

Basically, when I realized this I was just like, "aw, cute friendship"

And then I remembered the fuckin "Toph writes a letter" plan. The two are fucking idiots together. It's hilarious that they affect eachother like this and it's not even like, unrealistic, because of what Aang does for Sokka.

Aang is Sokka's biggest supporter. He usually happily follows Sokka's ideas, he accepts the stupid names Sokka comes up with and uses them unironically. Aang belives Sokka to be a genuis, which means he doesn't question his ideas when they're stupid, he just trusts it's a genuis idea because of course it is, Sokka came up with it. And Sokka soaks that up like a sponge.

People talk about Aang bringing fun to Katara and like, 10/10 I love that, but I feel like it's not talked about as often just how much Sokka changes thanks to the brightness Aang brings. I'm paraphrasing someone elses meta here but I don't remember where I saw it but if you know it lmk, but Sokka literally goes from "You can't fight firebenders with fun" (to which Aang replies "You should try it sometime") to the finale where he gets rid of an entire crew by fucking around all amused at himself. He goes from the most sour character to the joke filled idiot we all know and love. I do believe a lot of that is thanks to Aang's influence.

So, yeah, cute friendship, blah blah, but then I was thinking about post-war them and I realized, despite zukaang being my favorite ship and loving kataang, there's no one I'd rather see travel around with Aang than Sokka. That's always been their dynamic, Aang with the purpose and Sokka with the maps and plans to get it done. I want Aang to be able to continue to rely on Sokka in tough spots, I want Sokka to continue experiencing the world and fun thanks to Aang.

I just don't see Sokka wanting to settle back down and take on the responsibility shoved onto him as a child. He fucking bloomed thanks to being on the road and getting true oppertunities to use his strengths and I want that for him.

And Aang is Not Good at the whole plans and stuff. Sokka is so good at filling the gaps in Aang's abilities and I don't want Aang to lose that. I don't want him to lose the person that says "I don't care if he's the avatar, I'm going to fight his battles with him." I feel like Aang would be lost in some ways without him.

Then I was thinking abt Aang's admiration and belief in Sokka and realized, it wouldn't take much to tip that into a crush, esp for Aang who falls so easily.

And Sokka, we have established, is attracted to people that could kick his ass without ever landing a blow. I can see Tall Aang being Sokka's surprise gay realization.

And I just think, if they were together romantically, it would be so drama free because it would be the epitome of a relationship built on friendship. They'd just be together. No bells or whistles. I feel liked they'd just be chill af about it. They'd love eachother and it'd be as simple as that.

Just, partners, in everything. I love them so much. I'm so alone in shipping this but I have so many sokkaang ideas and they will never not be dear to me. Also, tbh, it helps that Sokka is my favorite character after Aang ksndksnd

[good--merits-accumulated]

truly truly Neil Charlie Todd triumvirate is king please share any thoughts you have on them

OH BOY ANON YOU HAVE OPENED A CAN OF WORMS.

I. OPENING THESIS?

Basically, here’s my abstract for this whole thing:

(Les Misérables, trans. Isabel F. Hapgood)

And having put this down, I’ll ask you to overlook it, lol. Or treat it as a very loose guide! (If you haven’t any idea what the context of this refers to, here’s a quick rundown: a chief is a leader and someone who people rally behind. A guide is an enthusiast about all things and an advocate for progress, someone who checks the rampant idealism of the chief. The centre is warm, loyal, and acts almost as a mini-Sun for the chief and guide to orbit around, to stop them shooting off on their own wild trajectories.) In the interest of complete transparency, reading Les Mis at a young age had this irreparable effect on me where I now have to think of every triumvirate as a chief/guide/centre dynamic, but I don’t think this model applies 1:1 towards Neil/Charlie/Todd. Instead, I think of them a little as composites, interplaying with each other – Charlie as a guide who would much rather be a chief, Neil as a chief who works better as a guide, and Todd as a centre who’s never given the grace to grow into that role. Let’s go!

II. CHARLIE AS THE CHIEF-GUIDE

Charlie is like if rowdiness was a Guy. He’s big, he’s brash, he’s the instigator and he’s the captain and he’s the shameless one and he’s a side character! I have always found this very interesting whenever I watch DPS; despite Charlie’s main character-ness he is secondary, and doesn’t even get his own sideplot in the same way that Knox (for example) does. He’s a born leader who by virtue of the trappings of his story is relegated to supporting others, although you can so, so clearly see him fighting for space in the story. He gets pushed into being a guide almost by default; only the trait of enthusiasm really applies here. If Neil wasn’t there he’d be the leader of their group, no question. And the thing about Charlie is that he gets things done. He’s the one pushing the most for the re-creation of the Dead Poets Society after Neil, he’s caustic about things that are in his way (“Well, why don’t you stay home?”), people follow him! See Knox running after him, asking to be taught:

Charlie is the man of action – the telephone stunt is the biggest incident of that. And the way the boys gather around him afterwards as he regales them is chief-like; here he is acting as the chief, because this is around the same time that Neil’s chief role starts to slip away from him. But more of that later. 

The big thing is that Charlie never gets to really assume that role of chief, because Neil is always there. I talked earlier about how he pushes for the re-creation of the Society; well, Neil is the one who finds Keating’s old annual and reads it aloud to them. Charlie is the one cutting down the guys’ concerns about sneaking out after school: Neil is the one who suggests it – more than suggests it! Almost commands it, in a way that leaves little room for debate:

(Note that in this section, it’s Charlie who does the arguing for Neil, who doesn’t speak except to lay down the law and then ask who’s coming. Real king and knight energy.) 

Charlie never quite manages to edge into centre stage. You can sort of see how there might be resentment there – perhaps there would have been if they had gone on uninterrupted. But then of course Neil dies, and Charlie assumes the chief role by default, but it’s no longer glorious or something he can covet. But he does it anyway; he wakes up Todd, he breaks the news to him, very, very gently, he wipes Todd’s mouth with snow when he vomits and tells the others to leave him alone. But by this point, Charlie going into the chief role he’s so good at isn’t enough to stop the splintering of their group or his own expulsion.  

III. NEIL AS THE GUIDE-CHIEF

Part of Neil’s tragedy is that he would be good at the things his father wants him to do! He’s a wonderful all-rounder, he's the perfect all-American specimen, there’s no doubt in my mind he would have been a great doctor – except he wouldn’t, because the enthusiasm and the motivation would have been lacking entirely. (As someone who just did a shit ton of medical school interviews, yeah, they would have sniffed this guy out really fast. Or maybe they wouldn't… not sure how stringent they were in the ‘50s.) He would have been technically great. But being able to do something doesn’t mean you should; these are the things that Mr. Perry conflates and which Neil is never able to verbalise to him, except in a way in which he thinks he’ll understand:

In this scene, when he talks to him post-performance it’s not “I enjoyed it”, but a very simple, “I was really good”. And despite this concession of terms he says it when his father can't hear, because he knows he would never relent, oh God.

Actually, a lot of what I wanted to say about Neil has already been said in Charlie’s section. (The summary is basically that you must imagine me offstage with a megaphone as the movie plays, yelling, “YOU TWO NEED TO SWITCH PLACES, FUCKOS”.) Neil is a good leader, but that doesn’t mean he likes being one, or that he should be one! He has a few characteristics of a guide – he’s enthusiastic about everything, he has this boundless kind of delight in the things he loves (not idealism; that’s slightly different). But this is honestly where the model falls apart. I don’t think that Neil would make a great guide either, logic not being his forte; the irony is that the role of the triumvirate he most fits IS the chief, it’s just that that’s what kills him. The responsibility that comes with being someone who “speaks and people listen” isn’t good for him – this dichotomy of having “control” over the friendship group/no control over his personal life is terrible. He does get to lose the chief role, but it’s not in a way that is good for him; instead this manifests in a loss of control that happens very very quickly, which just makes him reach for ways in which he can control his own life. And besides, stepping outside of a leadership role with a great deal of responsibility and losing control over the course of your own life are two very different things. I just think that he should get to go offstage for a little bit and rest, with zero expectations on him ever. (Also there’s something here about how he gets to play Puck – a side character who has major effects on the story but doesn’t have to actually put his skin in the game. This is what I think Neil should get to do In Real Life.)  

IV. TODD AS THE PROTO-CENTRE 

One thing about Todd is that in my mind, I always imagine him as much redder than he actually is in the movie. I don’t mean I imagine him to blush more often – I mean ruddier, more flushed. Going back to the Les Mis quote – in my mind he does “possess all the qualities of a centre, roundness and radiance”! Todd is a catalyst like Keating in a way that Keating isn’t; this is never explicit at all but he has always felt to me like someone who inspires others by their presence. He’s such a wonderful, calming, grounding influence. Even when he talks to Neil and they have that non-argument he tempers Neil and reminds him what’s at stake without looking down on him. And when he realises how serious he is, he goes with it and supports him to the best of his ability – he says “Oh, Neil, Neil, you’re crazy” but it’s fond, he’s overjoyed for him. And you can see similar behaviour perhaps to a lesser extent with Charlie in the way particularly he calls him Nuwanda after his request, which is taken as ridiculous by other characters: 

And even after Neil’s death he does so, refusing to go back to normal:

But the reason I’ve put “proto-” for a prefix is because these are all singular occasions. The thing is that I think Todd could be that brilliant, grounding, assured man, a lighthouse of a man, almost. But he isn’t – he clearly isn’t – at the beginning of the movie he is shy and diffident and the non-argument I mentioned early does go a little sour, because while he speaks from a place of concern and love, his anxiety manifests in the conversation and makes him a little less tactful than he might have been otherwise. If things had gone on better than they went, and if Todd had been allowed to grow and develop more and without worry, he really, really would have blossomed into this kind of centre, this very steady man who would have reminded Neil of the consequences of his actions and made Charlie care about the consequences of his. But he doesn’t get to do that – by the time he grows and becomes more confident it’s too late, the worst has already happened. 

V. SUMMARY

I’m so sorry, anon, this is a prodigious answer to what was a very simple ask, but you hit on the subject I have Very Strong Feelings About. Not to toot my own fanfic horn, but there’s an excerpt from the fair folk AU which I think sums this up pretty well:

TL;DR: Charlie gets pushed into a secondary position which doesn’t suit him; Neil gets pushed into a leadership position which suits him, but he hates; Todd is willing to step into that secondary position as a behind-the-scenes supporter, but never actually gets that opportunity. Hence the tragedy. Hence the taking of lives. Hence how many fucking tears I have shed over this movie, Jesus. 

(I had a lot of fun writing this – thank you for giving me a reason to!)

[astrobei]

bandaging/stitching up an injury with stonathan PLEASE i need more of them

The first thing Jonathan does when he sees him is let out a long, slow whistle.

“Jesus,” he mutters, crossing the living room in three quick steps. “What’s wrong with your face?”

“Got beat up by a racist piece of shit,” Steve mutters, leaning back against the sofa cushions and holding a bag of frozen peas to his face. Ow. “But don’t tell anyone. It can’t be good for my street cred.”

Steve’s got his eyes mostly closed, still, but he sees Jonathan’s face do a funny twitching thing, like he was about to laugh. “What street cred,” Jonathan says, and he doesn’t laugh, exactly, but Steve hears one in his voice anyway. “Your street cred died out a long time ago.”

“Yeah, okay, very funny. Chuff it up, Byers,” Steve grumbles, adjusting the bag of peas and trying to find another cold spot. It’s mostly room temperature now, sloshing around wetly with each movement, which is more disgusting than anything else. Steve lets out a frustrated noise. “Great. And now my peas are warm.”

“I’ll get you another bag,” Jonathan says, because right, this is his house, and Steve is getting blood all over his couch like the world’s actual worst houseguest. If his parents saw his appalling lack of manners, there would be some words to be said.

Well maybe about the bloody face first. And then the manners.

Maybe.

Jonathan opens the freezer door and stops dead in his tracks. “Steve?”

“Mm?”

“Why is there a– Jesus, I don’t even know what this is, and I’m a little afraid to ask– why is there a thing in my fridge?”

Ah. Right. 

“Listen,” Steve starts apologetically. “Henderson was just shooting me these giant puppy eyes and going on and on about scientific discovery or some shit and honestly I didn’t really want to have to deal with taking it outside. Like, what do you even do with the bodies? Burn ‘em? Bury ‘em? Ritual sacrifice?”

Jonathan peers at him over the refrigerator door, and blinks. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Ritual sacrifice,” Steve says again, waving a noncommittal hand in the air. “You know. You’re always listening to those broody, scary guys with the weird hair and the– uh, the guitars. You know.”

“I think you’re concussed,” Jonathan says simply, pulling a face as he presumably reaches around the Demodog’s body for the peas. “Did you hit your head?”

“I hit a lot of things,” Steve laughs, which is maybe answering Jonathan’s question.

���You ruined the good quilt,” Jonathan frowns, letting the door fall shut. “You owe me a new one.”

Steve extends his arm as Jonathan walks back, pressing the new bag to his face with a relieved sigh as he says, “Sure, yeah, come over to mine and take your pick. My aunt just took up quilting actually.”

Jonathan peers down at him. He’s still standing up, hovering, somehow managing to look uncomfortable in the middle of his own living room. “Did she really?”

“No idea,” Steve admits. “Haven’t heard from her since last December. I think she got cancer and died.”

“Steve,” Jonathan laughs, a little shocked, “that’s morbid,” and, okay, maybe Steve is a little concussed after all.

“Whatever,” he says, then pats the sofa next to him. “Sit down, man, it’s your house.”

Jonathan sits. Steve tilts his head back, presses the peas to the bruise he knows is blossoming a dark and vibrant purple around his eye. Jonathan’s watching him, silently observant like he always is. It should be unsettling. It used to be unsettling, back before Steve exchanged a proper, actual sentence with him. Now it’s kind of comforting, knowing that he doesn’t need to fill up the silence with meaningless blabbering.

Doesn’t mean he won’t do it anyway.

“You look like shit,” he blurts out, eyeing the way Jonathan’s shirt has gone all streaked with dirt and is still a little patchy with sweat. His hair is sticking to his forehead, and he looks like he’s been up for three days straight, but he still seems more awake than Steve is feeling. Alert. The usual slouchiness to his posture is gone, replaced by something less, uh, tortured. A little calmer, maybe. “How much do you sweat?”

“Well, we had to sweat the Mind Flayer out of Will,” Jonathan says casually, like he’s recounting a Saturday afternoon out on the town. “And we cranked the heat up to, like, a hundred thirty or something so yeah, I’m a little sweaty.”

Steve stares. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

“So he’s– he’s okay then? Where is he?”

Jonathan plucks at a stray thread sticking out of the couch. It’s old upholstery, and Steve can see a smattering of old, faded stains across the cushions, but it’s soft and worn and comfortable, and nothing like the ones in Steve’s own living room. “Well, Owens is hurt so he had to call someone in and it’s a whole mess that basically means the fewer people the better for tonight.”

Steve isn't really sure who Owens is, and he can't really discern from Jonathan’s tone whether or not he’s supposed to be happy about this guy being unexpectedly incapacitated. “Ah,” he says anyway. “Is he okay?”

“Yes?” Jonathan offers. Steve watches him out of the corner of his eye. He fiddles with his thumbs. Steve wants to reach out and grab his hands, just to still them, calm him down. “I can go first thing in the morning, it’s just– Hopper has some pull and my mom is– well, she’s our mom, and– I don’t know, okay, I just look at him and I see this thing that had its hands around my mom’s throat and I think to myself, hey, that’s my little brother. You know?”

Steve feels a little blown away. A little– flabbergasted, maybe. He’s not sure he’s heard Jonathan Byers say this much at one time in his entire life, and as it is, he stops talking suddenly, biting down on his lower lip like he had more to say but just isn’t.

“Yeah,” Steve croaks, even though he doesn’t know. He’s an only child and he’s spent most of his childhood alone and he guesses he has the Henderson kid now, but that’s not the same. Jonathan and Will– they’re something else. He isn’t really sure what to say other than that, so he just reaches out, places a hand on Jonathan’s knee, and squeezes. Like maybe this can say something he can’t. “I’m sorry. He’ll be okay. He’s a tough kid.”

Jonathan looks down at Steve’s hand on his knee and then back up, meeting his gaze. Something flits across his face, lightning fast and then it’s gone. “Thanks,” he says, a little quieter than before. 

Steve wonders if maybe he should move his hand, but Jonathan doesn’t seem to be all that bothered by it and Steve thinks, privately, that he likes the steady weight of him under his palm. Heavy and solid. Strangely anchoring. Maybe it’s the possible concussion talking. Maybe it’s not.

“Yeah,” Steve whispers.

A moment passes like this. The house is quiet. Everyone else has gone home, to the hospital, wherever they have to go, and Steve is here because he’d taken Dustin home and then thought about his own house– dark and empty and wholly more terrifying than any of the monsters or the blood or the douchebag assholes in open-front shirts and mullets– and he’d ended up here.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Jonathan says after a second. “You’ve got– it’s a lot of dried blood.”

“Sorry about the couch,” Steve says pathetically, as if he hadn’t been getting his messed up face all over it for the last thirty minutes. “You can get the blood out of it, I think.”

Jonathan is digging something out from under the sink– a first aid kit that looks like it’s been sitting there since the first World War. “Believe me,” he says. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

Steve lifts the bag of peas off his face. This one’s starting to go warm too, and he blinks blearily in the living room light as he peels his particularly sore eye open. “Be honest with me, Byers,” he calls out after Jonathan as he ducks into the bathroom, then pops back out a second later with a clean washcloth in hand. “How many murders have you committed in this house?”

Jonathan laughs at that, sudden and sharp, and then he makes a face like he’s surprised with himself for doing it. It’s unexpected, the sound, and it’s even more unexpected the way something swoops low in Steve’s chest. Like it’s some kind of victory, making Jonathan want to laugh so badly that he surprised himself by doing it, like he really just couldn’t help himself. “Zero,” he says, making his way back to the sofa. “So far. Here– come here.”

Steve isn’t really sure where here is, because then Jonathan is sitting down next to him and their knees are touching and there’s not really anywhere he can go that isn’t already as close as he can physically get to him. So he just leans his head in a little, turns his face up towards the light. “Good?”

“Shit.” Jonathan makes a sympathetic noise in the back of his throat. He cups a hand around Steve’s jaw, tilting his face a little to the right. “He got you good, huh?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Steve mutters, and Jonathan lets out another one of those sudden, quick laughs. Steve bites back a smile. Good, he thinks, a little absently. Good.

“I see what you mean about the street cred,” Jonathan murmurs. “Nice bandaids, by the way.”

“Courtesy of your brother’s idiot friends,” Steve sighs, and then winces as the cloth makes contact with a cut on his cheek. “Shit. Ow.”

“It’s a little one,” Jonathan smirks. “How is it that you can’t deal with a little–”

“It’s the fucking rings,” Steve bemoans, this time focusing very hard on keeping his face neutral as Jonathan dabs the dried blood away. “What kind of asshole wears that many rings on one hand?”

“The kind of asshole that goes around punching people?” Jonathan offers, and Steve rolls his eyes.

“Very funny.”

“I don’t know,” Jonathan continues, ducking his head down and finding a clean spot on the towel. There’s a smile playing on his lips, even if he thinks Steve can’t see him. “I’m pretty sure I remember doing some damage even without any rings on.”

“Congratulations,” Steve says drily, “you’re better than the guy who rubs himself down with body oil before leaving the house.”

Jonathan laughs at this, a real, loud laugh, and Steve thinks, for a fleeting second, that he might like this laugh even better than the other one. “I should hope so,” Jonathan is saying, and then he’s leaning in again and dabbing at Steve’s forehead. “That doesn’t seem like a very high bar.”

“You should do that more,” Steve murmurs, watching Jonathan’s mouth twitch in concentration. 

Jonathan frowns, then glances down, meeting Steve’s gaze. “Do what?”

“Laugh,” Steve says, the single syllable halfway out of his mouth before he has any inclination to, oh, I don’t know, maybe not say that? He’s thinking about the way Jonathan had lit up for a moment there, the way the weariness he always seems to carry around him sloughed off his shoulders, even if for just a second. What comes out of his mouth though, instead of any halfway eloquent manner of saying this, is, “It makes your face look nice.”

Maybe he is concussed. In a very real, serious way, maybe Steve Harrington is currently suffering from a grade-A concussion.

Jonathan looks a little bit horrified, but mostly kind of confused. He shakes his head. “It makes my– okay, you definitely have a concussion,” he says at last, which, yeah, Steve had been coming to this conclusion himself, actually. “So try not to get any major brain damage before we can get you checked out, yeah?”

“I’m trying,” Steve says, and then, “ow, dude, you can be a little more gentle, you know.”

“Sorry,” and Jonathan does sound a bit apologetic as he says this. He’s got one hand still cupped under Steve’s chin, fingers resting lightly against his jaw.

Steady hands, Steve thinks, closing his eyes as Jonathan wipes over them. Steady hands. A more gentle touch than he would have expected from someone so rough-looking. All broad shoulders and frown lines and a piercing kind of stare. “It’s just not coming off too easy.”

“Yeah, it’s dried down,” Steve says, “it’s been a few hours.”

Jonathan hums in acknowledgement and turns Steve’s face towards the light some more. “You should have cleaned it up before,” he says softly. “Your face is all swollen.”

“I told him not to hit the moneymaker,” Steve says in a deadpan. “He didn’t listen.”

Jonathan shoots him an exasperated glare, then hands him the squishy bag of peas again as he digs around in his ancient first aid kit. “Ice.”

“No, those are peas,” Steve says without thinking, and then Jonathan groans and drops his head into both hands.

“When my mom gets back with the car, you’re going to the hospital.”

“I’m fine,” Steve grins, placing the peas back over his eyes. “Seriously. My dad always said I had a thick skull.”

“I’m not sure that’s a compliment,” Jonathan says. He pulls out a tube of ointment, something thick and pasty, and beckons Steve forward again. “Come here.”

The ointment smells about as bad as it looks, and Steve pulls a face. “Dude,” he crinkles up his nose, “what the hell is that?”

“It’s gross but it works,” Jonathan says, frowning in concentration. He smears a thin layer of it over the cut on Steve’s forehead, all cleaned up now that the blood’s washed away. “Trust me.”

“Trust–”

The tube is almost empty. Steve swallows lightly and looks away.

It feels like he’s intruding on something, having Jonathan be so close to him. Being close enough to see the little spots where he’d nicked himself shaving, or how his hair is streaked through with a little blonde, the kind you can’t tell apart from ordinary brown until you’re really, really up close and personal. Which Steve– totally is. Oh, okay.

Steve swallows again, and closes his eyes.

“One down,” Jonathan murmurs, making his way over to a cut on Steve’s temple, “ninety nine to go.”

“He didn’t land that many hits,” Steve whispers, eyes still squeezed tightly shut. “Give me some credit.”

“Mike says you got him really good once,” Jonathan says, “so maybe there’s hope for you after all.”

It sounds like he’s smiling a little. Steve is tempted– so tempted– to open his eyes, just to see that.

He doesn’t. 

“You just got lucky, Byers,” he says instead. “You caught me off guard.”

“And then I caught you off guard again. And again, and again,” Jonathan says, and he’s definitely smiling now. “Two down.”

Steve lets out a long, slow exhale. “At this rate, I’ll have graduated by the time you’re done.”

“You should be thanking me,” Jonathan huffs, but it doesn’t sound malicious at all. He strokes a thumb over Steve’s cheekbone, and Steve fights back a shiver.

“Thank you,” he says, as genuinely as he can muster, then opens his eyes. Jonathan is staring straight at him, eyes a little wide, cheeks a little red. Steve grabs his wrist, the one that’s right up by his face, and says, “That’s– I’m being serious, by the way. I’m not trying to fuck with you.”

“Sure,” Jonathan gets out. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry I made you hit me,” Steve goes on, and if he has a concussion after all, he can blame whatever he’s saying on that. And he must be, because it’s getting hard to think in a straight line, and every train of thought just keeps circling back around to this. Warm fingertips moving over his face. So gently, like Steve is– like he’s something delicate. Something to be handled with care.

“I– it’s okay.”

Jonathan doesn’t blink. It should be more unnerving than it is. He’s got pretty eyes, Steve thinks, from a little bit out of his body. They’ve got some green in them. A little gold, too.

“I was an ass,” Steve says, and Jonathan’s eyes dart between his. Trying to see, maybe, if Steve is trying to fuck with him. If there’s a punchline at the end of this, somewhere, and whether or not that punchline is him.

Whatever he’s searching for, he must not find it, because he sighs and says, “I know.”

“You–! Okay,” Steve mutters. “Low blow, but I guess I’m the one apologizing here, so I should be able to take it and not expect a–”

“I’m not mad,” Jonathan interrupts, and then moves down to Steve’s jaw. He hadn’t even known he got hurt there, but because he’s him, of course he did. “That’s five.”

Steve blinks. “You’re not?”

“We’re different people now.” Jonathan shrugs, dips a finger through the ointment and smears it across the skin there. The smell of something strong and medicinal hits Steve head-on, and he wrinkles up his nose. “You, me. You’re not a total piece of work, and I’m not a–”

“Brooding loser,” Steve cuts in, and Jonathan gives him a look.

“I was going to say guy whose brother went missing,” Jonathan says, and then he rubs the pad of his finger over a particularly tender spot– a deep part of the cut underlaid with a bruise Steve doesn’t even have to see to know is there– and Steve lets out a startled hiss of pain.

“Ah–”

“Sorry!” And he really does sound sorry, and Steve figures they’d just been having a nice little talk so it wasn’t, like, mean or an act of petty revenge or anything. “Shit, yeah, let’s get you a bandaid for that one.”

“No Star Wars?” Steve jokes, as Jonathan comes up with– thank god– a plain beige one.

Jonathan squints at him, peeling the paper backing off. “Have you ever seen Star Wars?”

“Not once,” Steve admits. “No one I know is into that sort of thing.”

“You know me,” Jonathan says easily, running a finger over the bandaid and then pausing. “I mean–”

“Whoa,” Steve laughs. He tries to go for casual, for good-natured, but it comes out a little too overeager, stilted. “Are you asking me out, Byers?”

Jonathan blanches. “I– no.”

Belatedly, Steve realizes that this joke might have been marginally more funny if it came from anyone but him. “I didn’t mean–”

“I know what you meant.” Jonathan traces his thumb over to the last cut, sideways across Steve’s upper lip. “And you didn’t mean it like that.”

Steve shifts uncomfortably. “Hey, man, look–”

“You can probably deal with this last one on your own,” Jonathan says, but doesn’t move his hand away. “Your lip is busted, but it’s not too bad.”

“Okay,” Steve whispers. He doesn’t move either. “Thanks for patching me up.”

“Thanks for being there today,” Jonathan says back. “I saw you with the kids. You’re good with them.”

Steve huffs out a small laugh, and it gets caught there, somewhere along the line between Jonathan’s thumb and wrist, still snagged onto the curve of his upper lip. “Oh that? It was nothing.”

Jonathan shakes his head. It’s minute, barely noticeable. “They look up to you. Dustin, especially. It’s sweet.”

“Yeah, well, someone had to step up. Not everyone can have a–”

Jonathan raises his eyebrows. “A what?”

You, Steve thinks, heart picking up pace suddenly. Not everyone can have you. 

“They can’t all have–”

The word you never makes it out of his mouth, because then Jonathan is kissing him.

Steve gasps, because he has an open fucking wound on his lip and this is probably a thousand different kinds of unhygienic and an excellent way to spread another thousand different kinds of germs. And then Jonathan’s hands cup either side of his face and he’s pressing in so hard that it can’t be fueled by anything other than instinct and desperation, and then all thoughts regarding germs and sanitation and wow I’m glad he washed his hands before getting all up in my busted face fly right out of Steve’s head.

He’s warm, is the first thing Steve notices. The second and third are, in order, that he’s very broad and he’s very solid. It’s nothing like kissing a girl. There’s no give to him, no softness to the rigid muscles of his arms that Steve had no idea even existed. He’s gripping onto Jonathan’s forearms, apparently, which he doesn’t remember doing but he can’t find the state of mind to do literally anything else.

Jonathan’s arms are solid and rough and the muscles flex gently under Steve’s palms. He’s so solid, anchoring, and he’s holding Steve’s face like that again– like Steve is a delicate thing. Something that needs to be handled with a ginger touch, with appreciation, with trace amounts of tenderness.

Jonathan’s lips press into his once, then twice, like he just couldn’t help himself, and Steve makes what is maybe the most embarrassing noise he’s made in his life to date. This is good, he thinks. And he knows good. He’s Steve Harrington, okay, he basically invented it. But where the hell did Jonathan Byers learn how to kiss?

“Okay,” Steve hears himself say the second Jonathan pulls back. “What was–”

“Don’t freak out,” Jonathan says, sounding like he’s on the verge of freaking out himself. “Please don’t freak out. I need you to not freak out.”

“Who, me?” If Steve’s voice cracks, just a little, neither of them say anything. “I would never. Never ever ever ever– um. So why did you– not that I’m– yeah.”

“Like I said,” Jonathan says, “we’re different people now,” and he looks nowhere near as totally and completely thrown for a loop as Steve feels at the moment. His ears are bright red, though, and there’s a light dusting of pink across the tops of his cheekbones, and it feels like another victory, getting Jonathan Byers to blush. 

“Cool,” Steve says faintly. His lip is throbbing, and he brings a hand up to his mouth and pulls it away to see red on his fingers. “Ah, great,” he winces. “Look what you did, man. You fucked my lip up again.”

[queenofbaws]

QUEENIE you still know me you KNOW I'm gonna be asking about our favorite dumpster fires can you PLEASE give me Hawke AND/OR Varric's "oh...uh oh." moment

"Watch m - excuse me, I'm sorry, do you not see me over here doing my best to protect you against this place? Quit the giggling already, and watch my hands, Sunshine, I'm not gonna be able to sleep at night knowing you're walking around out there, oblivious to something as basic as bottom dealing, so watch my hands!"

Snickering into her drink, Hawke watched as Bethany dropped her face into her hands, her shoulders heaving with laughter as, time and time again, Varric made an absolute mockery of her card skills. When she came back up for air she was wiping tears from the corners of her eyes, taking huge, gulping breaths to try and calm herself down; it wasn't working, of course (once Varric found his flow, there really wasn't anything, save perhaps an inconveniently placed trapdoor or outraged member of the Guard, that could stop him), and as her sweet sister collapsed into another giggling fit, Hawke caught Varric's eye and rolled her own when he winked.

"He's got three up his sleeve, you know," she remarked coolly, lowering her tankard just enough for the accusation to be heard and her smirk to be seen, "he always does;" but it wasn't until Bethany, still laughing, grabbed for Varric's arm - an arm he pulled away with the quickest flash of the cards hidden within - that Hawke realized the greatest sleight of hand had been pulled on her: After everything they'd been through, after everything they'd lost, her little sister was smiling again...she was laughing.

"I don't know how to break it to you, Hawke, but I think this one's a lost cause - here, you deal this hand, maybe the kid'll actually try if you're the one tearing your hair out," Varric joked, and as she took the deck from him and their eyes met once more, she realized there wasn't any use in pretending the flush she felt rising to her face was from the drink: Bethany had been swindled of her coin, sure, but she'd get that back...Varric had stolen Hawke's heart, though, and Maker help her, she didn't think he'd be returning that any time soon.

six sentence sat(or)sunday!!!