#why do you think I used so much red on him

[heart-eyed-love]

Your Stupid Little Fucker

Summary | Eddie teases you about a said stuffed animals that turns out you don't have anymore and he takes that to heart.

Contains | Fem!Reader, Friends-to- Lovers (eventually), Cursing…

Word Count | 1.3k

An | Soooo, I kinda want to make series of oneshots and drabbles and what not for a bestfriend!eddie and bestfriend!reader, so i think this will be my first installment of that… and i’ll write stuff for the timeline that will be put out, out of order but i’ll make a masterlist so everything can be ordered correctly @_@ (which is also heavily inspired by the way wheels-of-despair sets up her amazing evil woman series)

“And you still sleep with it?” Jeff laughs as he questions Gareth, whose face only seems to be getting redder. But you’re not sure whether it’s from embarrassment or building anger.

“No, I don’t sleep with it, Asshole.” Gareth glares over at the boy, “Just because I still have it doesn’t mean I sleep with it.” 

“Then why do you still have it?” Grant questions with a grin. As he lifted the stuffed animal off of Gareth's bed as he seemed to inspect it.

Gareth was 100% not enjoying the interrogation on the stuffed rabbit that he had had since he was a baby. If he had known that everyone would have ended up in his room after band practice he would’ve hidden the ratty old thing.

“My mom is making me keep it.” It was a lie, and obvious one at that, but just in time Eddie cut in. Ultimately it wasn’t to benefit Gareth, but rather to put you on the spot.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, man. (Y/n) still sleeps with one too!” He looks over to you with a smirk, teasing tone he knows will piss you off. And he’s proud to be met with a glare already staring back at him.

“No, I don’t.” The other boys giggle, but Gareth feels your pain so he stays quiet.

“So, you don’t still sleep with that stuffed bat?” He eggs you on.

Ah. The stuffed bat. One that Eddie himself had so proudly won for you back in your freshman year. He was pleasantly surprised with himself that night at the fair, an “athletic” game that involved him throwing? And actually successfully knocking down all the pins? Yeah, he was pretty stoked, he was able to pull that off on the first try. If he had missed those with you standing next to him that experience would have been all too humbling.

But no, he had successfully won you a prize. A stuffed bat he picked, and he turned to you with an overly cocky smile for a guy who had gotten lucky with his shots.

But the bat seemed fitting, something he’d selfishly hoped you would see and immediately think of him.

“For me?” You ask with a smirk as he hands the plush over to you.

“Yeah, well I don’t have much use for it…” He’s trying to act all cool about it, but he knows he only even purchased tickets to play that game for you.

“Well, thank you, kind sir.” You smile up at him.

“Yeah, whatever, dork.” He shoves your head playfully and turns away before the slight redness of his cheeks can be noticed by you.

To say the least, that night was a night both of you remembered fondly. One of your favorite memories is Eddie gifting you that stuffed bat, and now he’s using it to try to embarrass you?

“No, I actually don’t, Eddie. I got rid of that thing.” Lie, big lie. It currently sat smack dap next to the pillow you slept on but you weren’t going to admit that. It probably wasn’t the best thing to lie about but right now, you didn’t care, he was trying to embarrass you and you weren’t going to let him get the satisfaction.

But why should you be embarrassed? Is it weird that you kept it after all this time? Is it weird that you feel so attached to it because Eddie gave it to you?

But in the slight blinded anger you felt, the fall of Eddie’s cheeky, teasing attitude had gone unnoticed by you. 

“You got rid of it?”

“Yeah, kinda just outgrew it I guess.” He watches you shrug like it’s nothing, like he had won that thing especially for you.

And truthfully, as Eddie thought back to it he couldn’t actually recall if it had been in your room the last time he went in there, he really just couldn’t remember. 

Thankfully for you though, cause yeah, it was still in there then too.

The boys have already moved on to another subject, and Jeff and Grant recklessly went through Gareth's comics as he screeched at them to be careful snatching it away from Grant. You walk past Eddie and over to the boys, taking your own time to look through the piles, trying to forget lying directly to Eddie’s face.

He stood moderately frozen at the news you just broke to him, but he pulled himself out of it and rejoins the groups, staying rather quiet as he went through the comics.

Staying way quieter than Eddie normally would all the way until pulling back up to your house that evening. And you finally crack…

“What’s wrong?” You asked with a brow raised in confusion as you looked over at the boy. 

“Nothing, wrong. Why would something be wrong?”

“Cause you’re barely talking… and while I do love this peace and quiet…” you tease but to no avail, “it’s not like you…”

“Did you actually get rid of it?” He turns to you suddenly, and you’re partially surprised by the harsh tone.

“What?” You know exactly what but you don’t know how to get into this right now.

“Did you actually get rid of it? Like did you give it away or did you just throw it in the garage or something?” His tone becomes more annoyed by the second, and you actually fear you might have made him mad. Which wasn't what you had even wanted in the first place, you just wanted him off your back.

“I never said-“ But he’s quick to cut you off.

“Because honestly it’s kinda shitty if you did either way.”

Now you’re rolling your eyes and he’s widening his. Why don’t you care about this?

Why isn’t he letting you speak? Instead of even trying to explain you just slide out of the van as Eddie watches with furrowed brows. 

Were you actually walking away from him right now?

“Are you coming?” You ask over your shoulder as you approach your front door, and you stand there as you watch Eddie scrambling to turn his van off and hop out to meet you at the door.

You both walk to your bedroom silently, and Eddie trails behind you kind of confused but ultimately letting this play out. And as you open your bedroom door you walk a few feet in and you point to the soft plush sitting next to your pillow.

“Where it literally sits every single time you come over, where it sits every single day. I don’t know how you actually believed me.”

“Why did you lie…?” He asks softly.

“Cause you were obviously trying to embarrass me for still having it.”

“What? No! I was just messing around, I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad about it, (Y/n)…” He tries to defend, “Sorry… I’m glad you still have it, relieved actually.”

“Yeah, Well no shit, I thought you were about to start crying in the van…” You tease, lightening the moment.

“I was not about to cry.” He glares, “It’d just be pretty rude, considering I almost threw my back out trying to win that stupid thing for you.”

“Almost threw your back out?!” You cackle out at his dramatics, “Eddie, the pins weren’t even 10 feet away from you.”

“Yeah, I put my athletic abilities to the test for you and this is the thanks I get?” You pull fingers into quotes as he mentions his athletic abilities, and he rolls his eyes at you.

“You did all that just for me?” You tease with a smirk, “You really won that for me?” 

“Yeah, whatever. Thought it would be nice.” He rolls his eyes again and plops onto your bed, purposely knocking the stuffed bat off your bed, causing you to let out an audible gasp.

“Oh my Gosh, you did not just do that!” You screech as you dramatically pick him up and cradle him to your chest with faux shock.

“What? That stupid fuckers causing a lot of drama.” He smiles playfully.

“Yeah, well, he’s my stupid fucker.” You say setting the bat back down in its rightful spot. Smiling down at Eddie as you do.

And he can’t help but smile back. 

God, he hopes he can be your stupid fucker too.

[taegimood]

— call it what it is (c.sb) ♡

pairing: choi soobin x fem!reader genre: smut, fluff, best friends to ? lovers? rating: nsfw, mdni wc: 2.5k warnings: virgin!soobin, idol!soobin, softdom!reader?, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, messy cumshot, cum eating, brief use of petnames (baby, handsome), brief masturbation (m), some finger sucking, lowkey body worship? (m receiving), soobin horse cock but what else is new

a/n - trying to find some other fucking soob pictures to match the middle one was just impossible so i gave up lmao i’ve been reminded of why i never add photo headers.. i got lucky finding yeonjun’s within 30 seconds for the last fic 🙂‍↕️

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the lighting in soobin’s room is dim, the glow of his gaming setup situated on the desk in the corner offering just enough low light to cast the room in an unfamiliar new atmosphere, one that you haven’t ever felt in the countless times that you’ve been here before.

maybe it’s the quiet lull of having the dorm completely to yourselves tonight, or the clock ticking into single digit territory on the hour hand; maybe it’s the sudden vulnerability of this moment and the ones that led up to it.

maybe it’s the manner of what you’re about to do together; or maybe it’s the glow in the near-darkness that silhouettes your best friend so sensually as he stands in front of you while you’re leant back on the edge of his bed — his handsome face nervous and outlined by soft shadows as your eyes trail down his neck to the contours of his collarbones, past his chest and quick-beating heart to the gentle curve of his abs that stiffen slightly from the attention, or perhaps from the hesitant ministrations of his hand further down.

maybe it’s all of the above.

when you had come over earlier that evening for one of your typical hangout sessions, seizing the fact that soobin had no schedule tomorrow, you think it’s pretty safe to say that neither of you imagined it ending up like this.

the two of you were post anime binge and bingsu feast flopped across his bed, talking about anything and everything when the topic shifted to relationships and your conversation took a very interesting turn.

as close as you and soobin are, he’d never mentioned much about his sex life, and now you knew why: he didn’t actually have one.

you honestly weren’t too surprised when he, while talking about the difficulty of dating with his crowded idol life, somehow accidentally let it slip in frustration that he was still a virgin; and as red-faced and stuttery as he became while then attempting damage control to salvage his dignity, you were quick to reassure him with understanding words and a nonchalant smile.

and, as it turned out.. with an offer.

if he’d prefer his first time to be with someone he could trust, someone who would take care of him…

you don’t know what came over you when you carefully presented the idea.

you’d be totally lying if you said you had never considered what it’d be like to be with soobin physically; he was strikingly gorgeous from head to toe, after all. his gentle demeanor and dimpled laugh never made it any easier for you, either, but whenever your mind dared tiptoeing the line into romantic territory, well, you were always very quick to reel it back in.

until.… now.

you suppose there’s no other way to explain it as fondness blooms in your chest when you look at him, his trembling hands having fumbled over the buttons of his shirt until you’d replaced them gently with your own and did it for him instead — butterflies in your tummy at the sound of his quiet, shaky breaths every time your fingers brushed his skin — his face so close to yours, swallowing hard when you smiled softly up at him in reassurance.

there’s no other way to explain the affection that washed over you as he melted into your lips when you asked if it was okay to kiss him; or his breathy moans as your lips then made a home across the soft expanse of his neck after guiding his hands to begin undressing you in turn.

there’s no other way to explain the way that your heart swelled when he shyly turned off the overhead light and allowed you to trace kisses down his body as you sat on the edge of his bed and worked his sweatpants down with careful hands.

each time you moved to take things to the next step you’d look up at him for confirmation; and each time you were met with yearning, a trusting anticipation in soobin’s brown eyes that made you want to give him everything you could and more.

even in the near-dark you could still make out the rosy hue that colored his cheeks when you moaned at the sight of his cock, thick and long and pretty and just plain big as it came up to slap against his tummy once freed, leaking tip now eye-level with you from where he stood in front of the bed.

sensing the tension in his body, you’d slipped off the rest of your clothes so that he wouldn’t feel so vulnerable;

leaning back on your hands to gaze at him, watching the way his widened eyes flitted across your naked figure, lingering several times on your tits — you noted this for later — and you couldn’t help the pace of your own heartbeat as your pussy throbbed from the sight of him.

“you’re beautiful, bin.”

your soft words had startled him out of his trance, his eyes even wider then as they flickered up to meet yours;

“so are you,” he breathed, a whisper, cheeks reddening further in the dim light, and you could see the desire pooled in his stare.

“binnie.. can you touch yourself for me?” you’d asked carefully, voice sweet like honey, and the premature twitch of his cock was enough to send wetness leaking down between your thighs.

so now, as you watch him hesitantly stroke himself, large hand almost making his large cock look normal-sized until you remember that everything about him is just big, your body betrays you as your legs squeeze together and you can feel the drool threatening the corners of your lips at the expectancy of having something to wrap them around.

he’s biting down hard on his plush bottom lip as his eyes travel over you again, and you can tell that he’s trying not to breathe too heavy as they stay glued on your tits until you slide forward to the very edge of the bed.

the movement of his hand falters as the sudden proximity of your face so close to his cock sends a fresh bead of pre-cum to his tip;

“you don’t have to be nervous,” you murmur gently, looking up at him with a comforting smile. “can i touch you?”

his breath catches as he hesitates only for a second before he’s quickly nodding his head with a shakily-whispered “yes.”

his eyes follow your every move as you slide your own much smaller hand over his bigger one to remove it from his length — you shiver at the size difference — and when you gently wrap your hand around the thick base of his cock and lean in to place a feather-light kiss against his lower abdomen, the soft sigh that leaves soobin’s lips is suddenly the prettiest sound that you’ve ever heard.

you stroke him slowly, soon figuring out the amount of pressure that he likes judging from the staggers in his breath when you apply it; you have nothing on your mind other than to make him feel good as your lips trail over his skin, placing soft kisses along his abs, suckling a pretty mark onto his hip bone as your thumb caresses the head of his cock.

he moans, embarrassed at first until you look up at him through your lashes in a way that tells him you’ve never found anyone more sexy than this; and after that he doesn’t try holding back as much from the pretty sounds escaping his throat.

and when you finally lick at his tip before your free hand comes up to cup his balls and your lips slowly sink down on his shaft, soobin’s head is tipping back into a deep groan as his hips twitch forwards, your throat constricting around him at the sudden added length and your pussy gushing a fresh wave of arousal between your legs from the lewdness of it all.

god, soobin, you’re so fucking hot.

you’d tell him as much if your mouth weren’t stuffed full of his cock.

you haven’t even taken him half way yet when his tip nudges the back of your throat, your spit sliding down his shaft as you use your hands to pump whatever you can’t fit in your mouth; his own hands have flown to your hair now as he watches you with parted lips and half-lidded eyes, breathing heavy around moans and whispers of incoherent curses, grounding himself in the feeling of your strands between his fingers as he fights to control his hips from bucking forwards.

“s-shit-! oh my god-”

it’s only a couple of minutes later that you can tell he’s already close to bursting as you pull off of him for air with spit stringing from your lips, hands pumping steadily up and down from base to tip as you watch his face, feeling a mix of pride and affection at how fucked-out he already is as his eyes meet yours.

“you’re close, baby. do you wanna cum now or wait ‘til you’re inside me?”

you shouldn’t have said that.

the visual you just gave him shoots straight down to soobin’s cock as his abs tighten and his shaft twitches in your hands, a strangled moan that you think was supposed to be a curse flying from his lips as he cums, thick ropes of release covering your neck and chest and dripping down your tits, his mouth hung open as he watches and only cums harder — you get over your surprise quickly as you wrap your lips around him and suck, coaxing the rest out of him as he cries out with a tightening grip on your hair that makes you keen.

he cums more than any other guy you’ve been with and you swallow every remaining drop that you can, finally pulling off of him as he’s left trembling, making sure he’s watching as you look up at him and slowly swipe your fingers through the thick pearly liquid that drips down your skin, bringing it up to your lips to suck clean.

“fuck,” he whimpers, completely dazed, chest heaving, eyes dancing over your face and down to your cum-stained tits.

you lean in and give one last slow lick up the underside of his cock and over the tip; he hisses at the sensitivity, abs clenching, and when you place a gentle kiss to the head before moving back with a smile, soobin swears he’s seen heaven.

you take his hand and guide him to sit down, which his jelly-like legs are thankful for, urging him to lean back against the headboard as you soothe your thumb over the love bite on his hip and brush his hair out of his face with your free hand.

“how was it?” you ask playfully, tilting your head to the side, and now that he sits at this angle the glow from the desk illuminates his face instead of shining from behind him; your eyes trace the details of his hazy expression as he rests his head back against the wall and watches you.

“you’re fucking amazing…” he mumbles, still slightly catching his breath, face flushed and fucked out and beautiful.

“so are you,” you whisper teasingly as you lean in to capture his lips in a slow kiss, which he gratefully accepts, and you’re not sure how you’ve ever made it this far before tonight without the feeling of his lips on yours.

you push away the possibilities and consequences of tonight’s actions to the back of your mind.

right now, all that matters is him.

“s-sorry that i…” he’s suddenly shy as he looks away from you, and you already know what he’s trying to say when his voice trails off awkwardly, “i didn’t mean to.. you know…”

“why are you sorry for being sexy as hell?”

the surprise on his face makes you laugh, and his lips curl into a bashful smile when you continue, “i mean damn, soob, i knew you were hot before but seriously..”

you coyly poke at one of his dimples. “i’m flattered that you came that fast to the thought of fucking me.”

you can see the effect of your words in his eyes as he bites his lip.

“about that…. i still.. i mean, if you still want to, i….”

his voice grows quieter. “…i still want to.”

you can hear the vulnerability and hope in his tone that he probably thinks he’s better at hiding than he is.

“soobin…”

you take his hand in yours, and his eyes widen when you slowly guide it down between your legs, his sharp inhale a clear indication of the gushing wetness he feels there along with the warmth of your cunt.

you lean in closer, his hungry eyes flickering back up to yours; “what do you think, handsome?” you tilt your head again.

“think i want it too?”

his stare locks onto your every move when you bring his hand back up and wrap your lips around his wet fingers, swirling your tongue around them as you suck them clean and release them from your mouth with a pop.

“hm?”

his eyes shoot back up to yours.

he doesn’t trust his own voice as he swallows thickly with a nod and you find that he’s rock hard again when you straddle his lap, sighing in relief as you finally feel some friction from the way your wet folds glide slowly over his shaft.

you wrap an arm around his shoulders, taking his hand in your free one again to bring it up to your plush chest, his eyes honed in there immediately, and he lets out a quiet moan at the feeling of your soft tit in his grasp as he squeezes.

“you trust me?” you ask gently, and soobin looks up at you.

the glow from his desk makes his eyes shine.

his free arm circles around you and his face is so close to yours that you can feel the warmth of his breath fanning over your lips when he whispers,

“yes.”

and when you lift your hips with a smile to line him up at your entrance, promising “i’ll take care of you,” as you press your forehead to his and slowly sink down on him, watching the way his brows pinch together and eyes flutter shut, his lips parting in a breathy moan as he clutches you closer and whispers your name —

well, there’s no other way to explain the feeling that explodes in your chest like fireworks than to just call it what it is.

it must be love.

[all3-stxr]

i like the way you kiss me

you and satoru were both teacher at jujutsu tech. as always, he pestered you just as much as he did with nanami and yaga. now, he was sitting on your desk of the empty classroom as you dusted off the chalkboard, pouting about the higher ups.

"i just. . . i don't get it. how they don't give a damn about those kids. i think i do a good job about caring, right?"

"you do really well, satoru." you ruffle his hair before returning back to cleaning the chalkboard.

that makes his cheeks flush a little red, not used to such praise. well, sure, he's praised by so many people, but from you, it just felt. . . different.

he cleared his throat before changing the subject. "so. . . wanna go out and get dinner? or is it too early for all of that?"

you hum quietly. "well, actually, i've been meaning to talk to you about something."

as you turn to face him, his blue eyes met yours as he tilted his head to the side. this was something he wasn't prepared for, but he could deal with it. "yeah? what's up?"

you were only able to meet his eyes directly since he was hunched over on your desk (thank god for that). "i want you to leave jujutsu."

he blinked. did he hear that right? sure, the idea of leaving did come across his mind every now and then, but he could never bring himself to do it. he opened his mouth to protest but hesitated before saying anything. ". . . why?"

you glance away for a moment. "they're just using you."

he stared at you for a moment. he knew you were right. hell, everyone knew it - he hated it just as much as you did - but there was no other option. he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "i know. . . i know they are. but i can't just leave. not now. i have responsibilities, there's so much more that i have to do that i can't just leave."

you gently cup his cheeks, tilting his head back up to look at you, despite his blindfold being on and you didn't know where his eyes were trained. "but you deserve more than that."

he didn't hesitate to lean into your hands, letting out a shaky breath. he wished he could leave. but who was going to take his place? he was the strongest for a reason. and what happens to his students when he leaves? megumi? itadori stuck with sukuna? he would never stop blaming himself if something or someone got hurt after he left. "i- i know but- i can't."

"if you wont leave, then promise me this-"

he didn't hesitate to nod, eyes trained on you as he listened to each and every word you had to say.

"-always come back safe to me."

he was a bit taken aback by this. he was strong enough to take on anything, that was what he was made for, right? he didn't doubt his abilities at all, but if it would ease her anxiety and make her happy, then he'd do it. "i promise."

your eyes narrow, taking in his expression with great scrutiny, making sure he wasn't lying. you gently lift his blind fold onto his forehead, finally meeting his beautiful blue orbs (he knew you loved just looking at them).

"thank you, 'toru." you say softly.

his ears grew a little pink at that. "of course." he muttered quietly.

you couldn't help but laugh a little at how shy he seemed for a moment. "dork."

"but i'm your dork, right?" he smirked down at you, looking at you with those bright, adoring eyes.

you roll your eyes and tug the blindfold back down. "yes. my dork."

he was a bit surprised by you tugging down the blindfold but could only smile like an idiot. that's all he was. he was just a big idiot when it came to you. "good. all yours~" he smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

you hum. "you know, i never see you kissing nanami's forehead. . ."

he snorted. "i never kiss anyone's forehead. except for yours." he hummed, pressing another kiss to your forehead, then to your nose. he really was just trying to kiss any part of you he could.

"alright, lover boy, that's enough." you smile and push him away gently.

he pouts and tugs you back against his chest. "come on, just one more. please?"

you shake your head which causes him to whine and pull you closer, your thigh sliding between his and you feel him. all of him.

"i need you." he murmured into your ear.

now, this wasn't the first time you two have gotten a little handsy. working as a sorcerer, you don't have much time for relationships, but that doesn't mean you can just stop being horny. so, just as satoru was your cure for that, you were his. and you couldn't just leave him like this.

"i didn't even do anything, satoru-!" you're cut off by him grinding his hips down against your thigh and you feel that familiar heat pool in your stomach.

"don't need to baby, you're just so fuckin' pretty."

you have to bite back a groan at the sultry hint in his voice, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear. "please, angel."

you push him back against the chair, making him sit, easily sliding off his belt like it was an everyday occurrence (which it practically was from how good this man felt and sounded while he was balls deep inside of you).

his eyes are trained on you and he slides off his blindfold once more so you can look into his eyes. but what he wasn't expecting was for you to get down on your knees after sliding down his boxers to his ankles, and begin pressing kisses down the shaft of his pretty pink cock.

he has to stop the moan from escaping his lips just at mere kisses, and a large hand clamps over his mouth as your tongue swirls over his flushed tip, leaking with precum.

"so wet already." you snicker, but before you can utter out another word he bucks his hips up into your face, dick sliding down the slippery hole of your throat, making him groan loudly. "mm, i'm sorry. so so so sorry, baby. please- ngh- forgive me." he babbled out, hand coming down to gently stroke your hair as you tried to suppress your gag reflex from acting up.

you can only hum, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine as you began to suck him off, hands holding down his toned thighs to stop him from fucking your throat until you couldn't breathe.

his hand bundled up your hair to give him some sort of leverage so he could try (and fail) to hold himself together. that's when his eyes flicker over to the open door and he almost cums right there on the spot - you fucking knew.

"y/n, the door-" his voice is muffled by his hand, and the look in his eyes shows he's about to lose it. if nanami or yaga, or even one of the kids walked in right now-

you slowly slide him out of your mouth, swallowing his slick as you respond. "then be a good boy and be quiet, sweetheart."

he whines at your words. you knew how vocal he could be, especially when you sucked him off - nothing but loud groans and praises, practically begging for you to let him cum in your pussy next or he "might just die."

for someone known as the strongest, he didn't act like it the second his dick came into the picture.

he watches intently as your candied lips slide over his length, cheeks hollowed out, making room for him just because he got hard after kissing your face.

he's entranced by the way only his tip stays in your mouth when you pull up, then sink back down around him in a heap, and he's biting his shirt just to shut himself up (not that it was doing him any favors). you could still hear his pretty groans as his head rolls back, hips faintly stuttering up into your mouth as he tried to close that space and feel your tight little throat around him again.

"fuckfuckfuckfuck-" his hand begins to guide you, pushing you down and slowly lifting you back up easily. he can feel your throat spasming every time you take him in fully, little white hairs tickling your nose before you're back up to just his tip.

you blink up at him and god is this view ethereal. brows knit together, long white lashes fluttering ever so slightly at each thrust, his uniform wettened by his mouth as he moans into it, saying your name like some sort of prayer. you feel just how wet your panties are, and you know you're gonna ask those long fingers to do you a favor later.

"'m gonna cum," the shirt falls from his mouth as he warns you, but you just hum some more, and you know that's what set him off as he lets out the most pornographic moan and keeps you at your pace to ride off his orgasm, and you're sure every person in the school could hear it. creamy white liquid just filling your throat and no matter how many times you swallow, it just keeps coming.

and your thoughts are only confirmed when nanami's voice comes from down the hallway and you almost choke on his load. "gojo?"

[covetyou]

kissogram

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Teen (18+ only blog!) warnings: drunk Joel, soft possessive Joel, lovesick Joel, wingman Tommy, fluff, idiots in love and in denial word count: 1.8k summary: A familiar sound wakes you from the soft slumber you'd not long fallen into - sounds you'd dreamed about in the months since meeting Joel Miller. This time, as you creep down the stairs to come face-to-face with your intruder, you can be certain it's not a man decked out in plush red velvet.

A/N: happy birthday to Joel Miller, happy TLOU day to us, and, most importantly, happy GOD DAMN IT ARE YOU CLOSE TO SAYING YOU LOVE EACH OTHER YET day to these two babies.

I'll be back with more dress up!Joel in 5 weeks 💛

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future fics

A familiar sound wakes you from the soft slumber you'd not long fallen into. The click of a door. The woosh of your house decompressing. Muffled footsteps. They were sounds that your own ears hadn't heard in months, and yet ones you'd heard a hundred times over in your dreams since that first day you met Joel, decked out in plush red velvet in front of your Christmas tree.

It's why, when you fully come to and pull yourself up onto your elbows, you find yourself blinking in confusion in the dark. Dreams and reality are tricky things to figure out when you're on the precipice of both. And, while the sound of foreign footsteps on your living room floor was something you dreamed about - fantasized about - a feeling of unease is quickly creeping up your spine the longer you listen to the hushed tones coming from downstairs.

Whatever - whoever - it is, isn't even trying to be discreet, not by the way your door suddenly slams and something rattles against the wall.

You don't even try to be discreet either, jumping from your bed and stomping over to the door. It's stupid, maybe. Probably.

Almost definitely.

The first time may have worked out well for you by creeping down to find Joel in your house, but that didn't mean any other break-in was going to go as well for you. Now, all these months later, you didn't even have your old umbrella to arm yourself with as you throw open the door and fly downstairs, hoping the element of surprise will save you.

Slamming your hand against the wall, you drench your living room in artificial light so suddenly your eyes can barely adjust before you're screaming out into the room in a feeble attempt to scare off your intruders.

"Get ou- what the fuck?!"

"Jesu-"

"Fu-"

The scene in front of you is a mess. Mail you'd left on your coffee table earlier is strewn all over the floor, your bowl of knick-knacks over turned in the middle, and two of your sofa cushions dumped onto the floor.

Most baffling of all are the people in the room. You know them. Of course you do. Who else would it be. Joel Miller is stood - or rather, he's being propped up - in your living room, gripping onto his brother as he desperately tries to keep his legs beneath him.

"Tommy? Joel? What the fuck are you two doing here?"

Joel, who by now has caught the sound of your voice, has stopped trying to keep himself upright, and is instead staring dozily at you, a lopsided smile spreading across his face. Tommy, meanwhile, is now taking almost the full weight of his older brother, and suffering for it, barely keeping his own legs from buckling as grunts and groans.

"I dropped him home but he - shit man you're heavy, stop it - he kept wanderin' this way. Kept askin' about a goodnight kiss. Told him I'd give 'im one but -"

"Hi," Joel cuts in suddenly, slurring around the simple greeting as he moves toward you despite Tommy's protests.

"Joel," you say in warning, as the broad man stumbles toward you on drunken feet.

In response, he raises a single finger, clearly much slower than he intended to, and the smile on his face spreads even wider.

"No."

"No? What? Joel, look I think you sho-"

"Birthday Joel. 'm Birthday Joel," he grins, and you can't help but supress a laugh. This is maybe his most lackluster costume yet. He has a crumpled party hat on and the same clothes you saw him leave in earlier this evening, and it makes you wonder how long he's been keeping that one in tonight - whether he told his friends the same thing down at the bar, or if he'd been holding it back just to tell you. By the proud look on his face, and Tommy's confusion, you suspect the latter.

"Hey there, Birthday Joel," you say with a soft smile. "Now, what're you doing over here and not at your own place? It's late, Joel. I said I'd see you in a couple of days -"

"Birthday Joel deserves a birthday kiss."

You raise your eyebrow at him, stopping his stumbled wobble in its tracks. "Deserves?"

"Wants. I jus' - I jus' wanted to kiss you," he breathes, looking down at your mouth with another smile so soft your breath leaves you in a quiver as you try not to embarrass yourself by letting loose the bubble of affection sitting in your belly.

Naturally, you'd given Birthday Joel plenty of kisses earlier today - a day that technically wasn't even his birthday yet - before Tommy came to pick him up. You'd given him so many kisses he was almost late out the door to his own birthday drinks. Tommy had rolled his eyes then just as he is now, slapping his brother on the back and steadying him all in one move.

"Told you, man," Tommy says. "She wouldn't 'ppreciate bein' woken up just to kiss your ugly ass."

Tommy winks at you, and tries to manouvere Joel toward the door, but Joel, somehow speedy despite his drunkenness, manages to round back to you, arms spread and ready to envelope you in a hug before he stops himself and instead delicately grabs your hands.

"Jus'... Jus' missed you," he hiccups. "Missed - missed my girls."

"Okay, Prince Charmin', I'm tired, you're drunk, we all gotta sleep, let's go."

"Tommy?" you say, letting Joel's thumbs caress the back of your hands as he holds them, refusing to let go even as Tommy tries, and fails, to tug him toward the door once more. "I can drop him home, if you wanna get goin'?"

For a second, it looks like Tommy's ready to object, determined to get his brother back home and in bed, just like he promised. But then he looks at his brother, and the lovesick look on his face, and decides to leave well enough alone.

"I'll see you at dinner tomorrow," he says to Joel. "Sarah's bein' dropped off at-"

"At ten, I know," he slurs. "Miss her. Missed you. My girls."

After a minute of prising your hands out of Joel's, you see Tommy out, walking with him to your door. The spare house key you'd entrusted to Joel months ago is deposited safely into your hand, before he wishes you luck with the birthday boy, and jogs the short distance through the darkness to his truck and zips away into the night. Joel, who you'd left unattended for all of two minutes, has already taken it upon himself to flop down onto your couch, and is fighting a losing battle with his drooping head as you approach.

"C'mere," he mumbles with a wobble to his head, hands making a reach for you.

"You're still after that kiss, huh?"

"Uh-huh," he says, grinning again as you hinge, bringing your face close to his.

His eyes flutter closed before you even close the distance, pressing soft kisses to the corners of his smiling mouth, before pressing a softer, lingering kiss to his lips.

"That good enough for you, Birthday Joel?" you whisper.

"Mm. S'good. Missed you."

"You've said that already."

"S'true."

"I'm gonna get you some water, sober you up a bit before I get you home."

Joel is asleep on his side, legs pulled up onto the couch, when you come back with water. You doubted you'd get him home tonight, with the state he's in, but you were at least hoping to get him upstairs and into bed, where he could better sleep off whatever demons were coming for him in the morning. As he starts to snore, face pressed into the couch cushion, you're suddenly very grateful that he won't make it up the stairs.

You tidy up the small tornado of mess that's torn through your living room. Mail is picked up and put where you should've left it in the first place, the bowl is righted and its contents replaced, the cushions are shoved back on the couch. Assessing the man himself, you soon realise there's no way you're getting him comfortable without waking him, so you prod his side, waiting until he wakes before whispering gently to him.

"Joel? Let me get this shit off you," you say, tugging at his shoes.

For all his drunkenness, he does try to help. He fumbles with his belt buckle, getting it halfway undone before his frustrated grunts turn to curses, and your hands replace his. In no time his belt is off, and he's kicking off his pants, reaching for you and dragging you to sit beside him again.

"Joel, you're drunk, we're not playing -"

"Jus' a kiss," he asks, tapping his cheek with a smile that crinkles his eyes.

It's impossible not to give in, or smile too as you press your lips to his cheek and he hums softly, already letting sleep claw back at him.

"'Nother one," he says, as his eyes droop.

"You're drunk, Joel. You should sleep."

"Not Drunk Joel - Birthday Joel," he mumbles, with a sleepy smile as you pull off his crumpled birthday hat and toss it aside.

"Then get some sleep, Birthday Joel."

You stand, your weight shifting off the couch and jostling Joel, his head already so heavy with sleep it wobbles to the side. His hand still finds yours though - pulling you to a stop as you try to creep back upstairs.

"Come to dinner? Tomorrow? Come meet Sarah," he asks, brave with sleep. "Want - both m'girls there."

He'd hesitated asking you all week. You could tell by the way he stumbled over the words each time he explained his birthday plans - bar with the boys the night before, dinner and a movie with Sarah and Tommy on the big day. The lengthy pauses had been filled with an invitation he could never quite get out, and you didn't want to fill in the blanks yourself.

He's dozing, already mostly asleep, by the time you can even answer him. So, instead you stroke softly at his hair, watching as his whole body suddenly gives in to sleep, giving him a final kiss on his cheek, and whispering in his ear;

"Ask me again in the morning, Birthday Joel. Ask me then, and I'll say yes."

In the morning, when you're both sipping coffee and Joel is nursing a hangover the likes of which he's never seen, you don't expect him to keep to words he was too tired to hear. But, he does, not meeting your eye as the words he was never brave enough to say until last night come spilling out once more.

And, just like you said you would, you say yes.

taglist: @jupiter-soups @wannab-urs @bean-is-reading @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

@youandmeand5bucks-blog @bbyanarchist @vickywallace @kamcrazy123

@valkyreally @ashhlsstuff @a-literal-goblin @ariundercovers @iluvurfather

@stevie75 @toxicanonymity @thesevi0lentdelights @sp00kymulderr @joelsdagger

[writeriguess]

Could you write something with Love and Deepspace Sylus x female reader, where they are always bickering and reader has a huge crush on him but she thinks he hates her. But one day, after Sylus sees her being tender with someone else, he gets so incredibly jealous of her and they have a makeout session against the wall.

The ship hummed quietly beneath your feet, its distant sounds blending with the ambient noise of the deep space beyond the hull. You sat at one of the control panels, fingers deftly typing in commands. Everything on board was routine—far too routine, considering the heated tension that had been building over the past few weeks.

"Are you even paying attention, or are you just pretending to know what you're doing again?"

His voice cut through the silence like a sharp blade, and you rolled your eyes before turning around, already anticipating the sight that greeted you. Sylus leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, that smug expression of his plastered on his face. His fiery red eyes gleamed under the dim lights, standing out against his pale, almost ghostly white hair that framed his angular face. His lips curved upward, taunting, always taunting.

"Well, look who's finally decided to grace us with his presence," you shot back, unable to resist the usual banter. It had become second nature by now, the back and forth, the teasing, the bickering. Sylus always had a way of getting under your skin, and you hated how easily he did it. Worse yet, you hated how it made your pulse race, how it made your heart stutter every time he was near.

He sauntered over to your side, leaning close enough that you could feel the heat of his body. His breath tickled the side of your neck, but you didn’t dare show how much it affected you.

"If you mess up one more time, I swear I'll—"

"You'll what?" You snapped, spinning in your chair to face him. The space between you was minimal now, the tension palpable. His smirk widened, and those red eyes narrowed slightly, as though he was enjoying how easily he could rile you up.

"I'll take over, obviously. Can't have someone as incompetent as you handling sensitive equipment." His voice dripped with mockery, but there was something else there—something darker, something unspoken. And for a split second, his gaze flickered, betraying an emotion that was neither mockery nor irritation. It was gone as soon as it appeared, leaving you questioning if you’d imagined it.

"I think I can handle myself just fine, thanks," you muttered, trying to ignore the way his presence made you feel. Every time he was near, it was like your nerves were on fire, every word out of his mouth was like gasoline to the flame that burned deep within you.

The truth was, you had a huge, embarrassingly intense crush on Sylus. But he made it impossible for you to act on it—he was always pushing you, always teasing, always acting as if you were beneath him. There were days when you wondered if he truly hated you, and others when you thought, just maybe, he might feel something different. But then he'd pull some stunt like this, and you'd remind yourself that it was probably all in your head.

You stood up abruptly, needing to put some distance between you before you lost control of the situation—before you gave away too much. "If you're so worried about it, why don't you handle the panel yourself?"

His smirk widened, but you didn’t stick around long enough for him to respond. You strode out of the control room, down the narrow hallway of the ship, your heart pounding far too hard for what should have been a simple interaction.

You needed to get a grip. Sylus was nothing but trouble, and you knew it. Yet, you couldn’t help the way your stomach flipped every time he was near. It was pathetic, really, but that didn’t stop the way your thoughts constantly drifted back to him.

Several hours passed before you found yourself in the ship’s common area, trying to distract yourself by talking to one of the crewmembers. He was a newer recruit, younger, eager to please, and he hung onto your every word. You laughed at something he said, a soft sound, but genuine. It felt good to relax, to have a moment where you weren’t constantly on edge.

That was, until you felt the weight of a familiar gaze on you.

Sylus stood at the entrance to the common room, his eyes locked on the two of you, his expression unreadable. But his eyes—those crimson eyes—burned with something dangerous. You could feel the intensity from across the room, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

You tried to ignore him, turning your attention back to the conversation, but it was impossible. Sylus was like a storm, unpredictable and overwhelming, and you were helpless to escape it.

After a few minutes, you excused yourself from the conversation, your nerves frayed by the feeling of Sylus’s gaze still boring into you. As you moved to leave the room, you barely made it past the door before a hand grabbed your wrist, yanking you sharply to the side. You were slammed up against the wall, the breath knocked out of you as Sylus’s body pressed against yours, trapping you between the cold metal wall and the heat of his presence.

"Sylus, what the hell—"

"You think I don’t see what you're doing?" His voice was low, dangerously quiet, but filled with something wild, something possessive. His eyes were darker now, the red burning brighter, and the usual cocky smirk was gone, replaced by something raw and fierce. "You think I didn’t notice you laughing with him? Touching him?"

You blinked, taken aback. "What are you talking about?"

"Don’t play dumb with me." His grip on your wrist tightened, and you could feel his breath against your skin, harsh and uneven. "You think I’ll just stand by while you… while you act like that with someone else?"

Your mind raced, trying to piece together what he was saying. Was he—was he jealous?

"Sylus, it was nothing. I was just talking to him."

"Talking?" His lips curled in a sneer, but there was a vulnerability in his eyes, a fear, even. "That’s not what it looked like."

You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could say anything, his lips crashed down on yours, rough and demanding. Your body tensed in shock, but it only took a second for your instincts to take over. You kissed him back, hard, matching his intensity, your fingers gripping his shirt as his body pressed tighter against yours.

His hand slid up to cup the back of your neck, holding you in place as his lips moved over yours with a fierce hunger, as though he’d been holding back for far too long. The kiss was messy, desperate, both of you pouring weeks—no, months—of pent-up tension and frustration into it.

You gasped as his teeth grazed your lower lip, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue invading your mouth, claiming you. Your head spun, overwhelmed by the sheer force of him, of the way his body moved against yours, pinning you so completely to the wall.

Every touch, every movement was filled with heat, with want. His hand slid down your side, gripping your waist possessively, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t bear to have even an inch of space between you. His other hand tangled in your hair, tugging slightly, sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

You broke the kiss, gasping for air, but he didn’t stop. His lips moved to your neck, hot and insistent, and you couldn’t stop the soft moan that escaped your lips as he sucked at the sensitive skin just below your ear.

"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this," he growled against your skin, his voice rough, filled with an emotion you hadn’t expected—desire, need, and something more. "No idea how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you."

Your heart pounded in your chest, your mind reeling. Sylus—arrogant, infuriating Sylus—wanted you? You didn’t have time to process it before his lips found yours again, and you were lost in the intensity of the moment, in the way his body moved against yours, demanding, unrelenting.

And in that moment, you realized that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t hate you after all.

Requests are open. Send as many as you like at once.

[aniimoni]

So why would your lamb have a keloid scar? Genuinely curious :0

OHHHHHH MY GOODNESSS!!!! OK OK 1) THANK YOU FOR ASKINGG and 2) Sorry this is such a late reply, been busy.

Anywho, my lamb has a keloid scar because I think it would just make sense healing wise- but let me elaborate.

CW talk about scarring + some imagery (just drawings)

Keloids are a bunch of extra skin tissue that has formed to close a scar. Don’t ask me the science behind it, I am only speaking from my own experience (wildly enough, I also have a keloid on my neck lol). An axe to the neck wouldn’t be just one quick swipe, so it wouldn’t be a clean cut. To me, it would only make sense that it would take a lot of extra skin tissue to heal a wound like the lamb’s, considering the manner in which it happened.

In my au (named Hearts to Keep btw), the only way that TOWW was able to put the lamb back together was by making their body form that extra tissue on their neck.

When they were first resurrected, it looked a lot more red because still kind of in that “healing process”. They didn’t cover it at first because 1) a lot of fabrics just feel uncomfortable near/on it, and 2) they just didn’t feel like it 🤷‍♂️ This led to a lot of their cult members being taken aback VERY frequently:

More rambling + drawings ⬇️ so i don’t take up ppl’s screens

And more often than not, they would constantly forget the basic courtesy of not touching strangers (again, taken from my experience).

Which, of course, annoyed them very much. This makes them look for solutions, leading them to the conclusion that it would be better to cover it; mainly due to the fact that cultists don’t know what personal space is when it comes to them, yes, but it’s also because it bothers them that it’s so exposed in battle and to fabrics/their wool. Sensory issues basically.

Much to their avail, they can’t find anything that feels even the slightest bit comfortable around that area. And so, they decide to bring up this problem to none other but the one who started it.

He doesn’t really know what they would like for him to do. They both go back and forth, half arguing, half trying to understand eachother. Eventually, it is brought to their attention that ICHOR is very useful and versatile! And what is ichor? The blood of a god. And who is in the room with us right now? A god.

TADAAA!!! Lamb gets their very own little neck cover + their bell! Surprisingly, ichor makes for very good fabric.

Of course, this doesn’t erase all the experiences that come with having a keloid, but it takes unwanted attention/touching away from them.

HOWEVER!!! The keloid also ties to their emotions- in more ways than one- but, maybe that will be for another post 😋

Let me know if there are any more questions, cotl au related or just keloid related. Goodnight, and thank you for coming to my TedTalk 🫶🏼

[misfitgirlwrites]

Modern!Reader x Alastor Headcanons | Third Place Giveaway Winner

This is very funny to me. Alastor dating or befriending someone who's more similar to Vox to say the least than him when it comes to...technological advancements

CW: none, just some bickering between what could be seen as an old married couple

It's a little hard for almost everyone to tell, but you and Alastor are close

I say it's hard to tell because you two are constantly throwing jabs at each other and honestly, it couldn't be helped

He was just so...old

Everything about his habits and interests were outdated and Alastor wasn't the type to do his own thing quietly 

There's always a comment, a sideways glance, a light scoff which leads to,

"Don't be upset because you don't know how to use a cellphone."

"Me? Upset over such a device? You confuse me with someone else, dear."

"I don't think I am. What'd you have again? Messenger birds?"

"Very funny."

You would simply chuckle at Alastor for the most part. You've heard it all before, your love and talent did lead to you VoxTech for a bit of your afterlife, but you didn't stay.

You found it more enjoy using what you know to help Charlie with her cause.

You were a helpful person in your own way. It was the only reason you kept trying to introduce Alastor to some form of modern tech. 

"I can make you the simplest most basic cellphone Hell has ever seen. Only phone calls and texting--"

"You lost me."

"--Only phone calls and we'll get to the rest eventually?"

"No."

You'd groan out, "even Lucifer has a cellphone! He's older than you!"

"Was that supposed to help you convince me?"

"...You're such a loser."

You have special nicknames for Alastor when you feel like picking with him. 

Old Allie

Old Man Red

Ye Old Alastor

Arthritis Strawberry

Alastor: Great Gatsby Edition

He hates all of them, of course, and that's why you love them

Alastor is completely uninterested in what you do. His focus is just more on your talent and passion than what you're making

You argue that what you're making is your passion so he should show a little interest

This would lead to a breakthrough!

"Only for phone calls."

"Right."

"Don't add anything else."

"Mhm."

"______. I mean it."

"Don't go using that scary tone with me, mister. I'm your friend, so trust me!"

It took all your willpower to not add anything extreme to the, in your opinion, useless cellphone. Phone calls only, just as promised. You knew Alastor agreed to shut you up, but you were still satisfied with your win

That's why you were very surprised when you got a call from him and you knew he wasn't in the hotel. You of course told everyone who would listen (AKA everyone in the hotel)

You yourself were always on the move and it made you happy that the chance to hear Alastor while you were both away was significantly higher (he lowkey hates the thing, so he doesn't always answer)

After a while, like a lot of elderly, Alastor would just straight up not take the phone with him.

"Al."

"Yes, my dear?"

"The point of a cellphone. You get it, yeah?"

A roll of the eyes

"Al."

"I still use the thing."

"You leave it in the hotel!"

"I forget it here and there."

"You can't tell me you're not someone's fuckin' grandfather with that lame excuse. At this rate, I'm gonna glue the phone to you."

Honestly, he kept it on him for almost two months. You expected to be having this conversation sooner.

After nagging him for a few days, Alastor made sure not to "forget" the cellphone anymore, much to his annoyance. He, of course, couldn't be seen with the thing, so it was just easier to leave it at the hotel

Two more weeks in, and Alastor would definitely be thinking of ways for this device to get in an unfortunate accident, if you will

While fiddling with the damned thing one night, Alastor finally found the one extra feature you decided to add. After a small click sounded, the small phone extended in his hands, making him let it go. The small screen was now larger; touchscreen.

Alastor's eye twitched. He could almost hear you cackling. 

He was going to end you.

@theblueslytherin Here as promised! I really hope you like it!

Alastor Taglist: @alastorssimp @saints-wrapped-in-plastic @dasimp777

[rainbowolfe]

Why Aym and Baal?

They were, according to Shamura, supposed to be Narinder's replacement family/companions. Narinder never really got that memo, but like, what did Shamura expect? Relationships don't work that way. You can't just throw two strangers at someone and have them fill the void of a millennia-long relationship.

But the question of the hour is, why Aym and Baal? I don't think it's because they're cats.

It's implied Narinder had his own family (made up of cats or whatever he is) and chose the Bishops, a goofy assortment of non-mammals over those blood relations. So he's not exactly inclined towards members of his own species. So that doesn't feel like the reason why Shamura chose them. And it doesn't feel like the reason Narinder kept them.

I noticed that this photo from Jalala's journal had to have been of pre-servitude Aym and Baal, cause they're much younger. Baal's hair is shorter, they're both just wearing basic tunics instead of their signature robes, and Forneus isn't wearing her hat. So Aym's always looked a bit scuffed, and it wasn't the result of his time spent with TOWW in the Realm Beyond.

Which means Shamura saw him and went "wow that's literally Kallamar". Scar over one eye? Check. Messed up ears? Check. It would also loosely confirm that the boys were sent after they sealed Narinder, since Kallamar's ears wouldn't be scuffed before then.

It would be really funny if what Aym's looking at is Shamura, and this picture was taken 5 seconds before disaster.

Now, my first instinct was that Baal would be Narinder, and what Shamura hoped to recreate was Narinder's relationship with them and Kallamar. But that doesn't quite make sense. The new "family unit" already has a Narinder, so why would Shamura give him another?

Baal can't be filling Shamura's role for two reasons. One, as the head of the family, Shamura would be more likely to be Forneus (the role they are now placing Narinder in). If not Forneus, then the unseen father presumably taking this picture. Two, Shamura does not believe that Narinder loves them. That's. Kind of why they're doing all of this. So they wouldn't give him a replacement-Shamura either, unless they were feeling really really egotistical.

Which leaves us with two options.

And the correct one is Leshy. Leshy, whose core item is the red camellia. And whose symbol becomes a black heart when he's cleansed.

While we don't get to hear much from Baal, Heket's core traits are that she's a shit-talker and likes to eat. Leshy's core traits are that he's chaotic, but has an appreciation for/focus on the world around him. Smells, sights (when he could see), and sounds.

Baal is actually the politer of the two and, based on his recruitment dialogue ("So much color... so many creatures") he too is the worldly type. Also, Baal thanks Lamb for helping them. Leshy and Narinder are the only Bishops who thank Lamb in the end.

And, you know, if you take the order Shamura lists the family in into account, Leshy and Kallamar are the first and second sons respectively.

...

Of course, this can be taken one step further in another direction :3c I can't just leave Heket out of this.

Although Shamura only gave him Aym and Baal, theoretically what they saw was a four-person family unit that reflected their own... before Narinder entered the picture. I mentioned before that if Shamura isn't a reflection of Forneus, then they're a reflection of the unnamed father. (Who I suspect to be Paean)

Which means they saw Heket in Forneus.

Do you see the vision??

Cause this is a found family, age order doesn't necessarily matter to the familial hierarchy. Even if Shamura wasn't the eldest, they would still be the head (whether matriarch or patriarch) because their role is as the leader of the other three. Heket would be below Shamura, but above Kallamar and Leshy, because she serves as caretaker. She's even the one who takes charge upon Lamb's return, as the matriarch would do if something were to happen to the patriarch.

((Traditionally, while the father is seen as the protector and provider, his purpose is specifically to rule/lead the family. It is the mother whose sole purpose is to protect. Primarily the children, as their (often only) caretaker. But in traditional circles, it's commonly felt that the mother should sacrifice everything for the father as well.))

It would be particularly fitting because a lot of Heket's side of things revolves around sacrifice. How she's burdened by it, and seemingly how much she tried to do to find a better/different outcome. She's characterized as particularly family-inclined.

...

This would suggest that who Narinder valued the most in the family were Leshy and Kallamar. At least, it would suggest that's how Shamura saw it. But I'm liking this line of thought, so let's say their read is accurate.

Shamura saw that Narinder. Could also be Forneus. And Shamura loved Narinder the most, so...

Narinder and Heket's disdain for each other stems from them competing for the same role in their family: The matriarch. Shamura's second in command, and the boys' caretaker.

Not in a "raise them" type of way, at least not in Kallamar's case. But to guide and influence them. To be the one they trust and rely on. Heket has been that. And, intentionally or not, Narinder intrudes on that.

Narinder's the 'other woman' lmao

As a bonus:

Baal is aligned with his father (you get Tears of the Vengeful Father in exchange for him). Aym is aligned with his mother (ditto for Tears of the Merciful Mother).

If Aym = Kallamar; Baal = Leshy; Forneus = Heket; and The Father = Shamura

Then that dynamic is actually reflected in this Tarot Card. It pairs Kallamar with Heket, and Leshy with Shamura. :3

[fangirlmermaid]

You promised!

Summary: Reuniting with someone from the past. It doesn't go as planned.

Pairing: Logan x G!N Reader (platonic) x Deadpool x G!N Reader (Platonic)

Warning: Smoking, language, death, death threats, Angst

maybe some bad grammar and wrong punctuation.

(sorry if Deadpool isn't funny enough)

That night still haunts you, the screams echo in your ears, and the pile of your friends' dead bodies that you had to dig your way out of still makes your skin crawl. Fortunately, your ability to summon/ commune with the dead also gave you the power of immortality. 

You did everything you could to help but you were just a kid…your heart racing trying to find the one person who you thought could protect you…your kitten. Of course, he would rather be at a stupid bar than wear the stupid yellow spandex. When he came stumbling back where he found you covered in ash crying. Sadness turned into spite, how could he leave you? He promised to keep you safe! 

You couldn’t stand the sight of him…so you ran. That was the last time you saw Logan..or so you thought.

You tried to use your powers to conjure your friend's spirits but you couldn’t.

Years passed, and you lived a normal life. Until some weirdo with outdated references wearing a red spandex suit was in your apartment building lobby. He cut you off at the stairs spreading both his arms out so you couldn’t walk around him “Well hello pookie” The weirdo welcomed you as you glared at him “Do I know you?” You muttered, reaching into your messenger bag to grab something that could be used as a weapon. You were in no mood for what this ass has to say. The weirdo stood more relaxed “I’m Deadpool aka Marvel Jesus” the Spandex introduced, you raised an eyebrow “What? Marvel Jesus? What the fuck?” you wondered making Deadpool gasp at you “Oh just spit in my face! Did my peanut teach you that?! You’re too young to be speaking like a drunken sailor” Deadpool declared, clenching his nonexistent pearls. You wondered why he acted like you knew his peanut? If his friends were half as annoying as him then you doubt that you knew them.

Deadpool booped your nose making you swat his hand “My, my aren’t you a violent child” Deadpool teased, if he kept doing this Applebee's comedy night routine you were gonna need a joint. You dug through your bag, grabbed a joint from the container you kept, and lit the one in your hand. “I need your help saving the multiverse from this asshole named Paradox which is the stupidest name ever!” Deadpool announced, and you raised an eyebrow “The multiverse?” You repeated in disbelief that what this man was saying was true. You blew a cloud of smoke into Deadpool’s masked face, “as much as I would like to inhale secondhand smoke” the comedic took the joint out of your hand “I’m gonna need you to be sharp” Deadpool explained pressing the lit part of the joint on the no smoking sign. You crossed your arms “to save the multiverse?” You laughed, at this point you were expecting that you were on a prank channel.

Deadpool's whole demeanor changed “The point cupcake, is that everyone I care about will die if we don’t stop that asshole Paradox.” Deadpool was serious, there was no funny tone in it. You released a heavy sigh, ever since the fire you were done with all that heroic shit “Why me?” You wondered, he could have picked an actual crime fighter “Why you?! You’re Y/N! You were a part of Baldilock's merry band” Deadpool reminded you. The memories of when you were an X-men in training that you tried so hard to forget came rushing back, you tilt your head your eyes threw daggers at the dickhead in front of you who the fuck did he think he was making a joke about your friends.

You scoffed “it’s Deadpool, right?” You asked clenching your fists, the jackass got all giddy “Oh my god! Y/N remembers my name!” The mercenary exclaimed as if he was meeting Hugh Jackman. You grabbed him by his chest and pulled him towards you till you were inches apart “Get out of my way or I’m going to ram your head through a damn wall” you threatened beneath your breath.

Deadpool didn’t look intimidated, he looked over his shoulder “I can see why you like her, Peanut!” Deadpool yelled as if that was a queue. You heard footsteps coming down the stairs, you released the mercenary from your grip “You can thank Marvel H. Christ later” Deadpool patted you on the back before standing in front of the door that leads into the streets. Your heart sank into your stomach, Did this guy want you so badly that he brought someone with him to rough you up?!

The backup descended the stairs, and when his face came into view you froze, Your eyes glossed no, not him…anyone but him. You hoped this was just a nightmare, you kept pinching yourself hoping you would wake up in your apartment…but nothing happened, he was here.

 Logan gave you a warm smile “Hi, bub” he took a small step towards you, but you took a step back “Don’t!...don’t call me that!” your voice muttered, why would he think that it would be okay for him to call you that?! “Bu-kid, we need your help” Logan begged in a hushed tone like you were going to agree because the alcoholic asked nicely. You started to laugh “You…think…I’ll go…anywhere… with you?” You asked in between, you had to hold your stomach because you were laughing so hard. Deadpool took a step towards you two “Hi, sorry to interrupt but I’m kinda on a time crunch so can we-“ “Shut the fuck up!” You and Logan yelled in unison, Deadpool stepped back.

You looked back at Logan ”Y/N I’m so sorry” Logan apologized, you glared at him “That’s it?! That’s all you can say?! You went to get fucked up instead of being there…and all you can say is your sorry?!” You scoffed; it was like putting a band-aid over a bullet wound. It does nothing. You felt all the old feelings you tried to suppress seep through “I know and I’ll hate myself for that for my entire life” Logan admitted, you shook your head pinching the bridge of your nose to contain your emotions, trying not to cause a scene that would get the neighbors attention, “I can’t do this” you mumbled re-adjusting your messenger bag on your shoulder. 

Your eyes glossed as you tried to make it to the stairs but Logan blocked your path “Logan, please just step to the side. I don’t want to do this” Your voice cracked

“I can’t do that, Y/N”

“Just please move”

“I can’t kid” 

“Please move Logan”

“Bub, Please!”

“GET OUT OF MY FUCKING WAY!”

Tears started to run down your cheeks your fist pounded against Logan's chest “Move” you weakly repeated, he didn’t budge or fight back. You felt as powerless as you did the night of the fire. You felt like you were one big joke to the universe.

 Logan tried to wrap his arms around you but you pushed yourself away from him, “Y/N” Logan called, you didn’t let him say more of his half-ass apology “Why weren’t you there?” you wondered crossing your arms over your chest, you remembered that he went to the bar but you wanted him to admit it. The man in front of you never answered, your eyes glossed “Why weren’t you there?! I needed you and you weren’t fucking there! You promised me that you would protect me! I trusted you! I looked up to you! You were my hero!” You admitted wrapping your arms around yourself as tears ran down your cheeks once again. Logan looked like he was on the verge of tears himself “I’m sorry, I’m here now” Logan promised, You shook your head “I don’t need you now! I needed you back then! Where were you…when I needed you?” You stated you noticed some people were opening their doors. 

Your eyes met Logan “I hate you” you sniffled, and Logan's lip quivered “I wish you would kill yourself, you would be doing me and everyone else in this world a fucking favor” Your tone was emotionless, Logan was taken back even Deadpool was speechless. You were emotionally drained, this time you successfully pushed past Logan and ran upstairs to your apartment.

You slammed the door Bang! You threw your bag on the ground and jumped into your bed shoving your face into your pillow to muffle your cries. You hate him. You hated that you trusted him. You wished you never met him. 

Back in the Lobby

Logan kept staring at the stairs silently hoping that you were going to come back down, hoping that you had a change of heart and the two of you could start over, a single tear escaped down his cheek. 

Wade stepped towards the Wolverine, “Why didn’t you tell her that those sons of bitches could fix your shit?” the mercenary wondered, Logan wiped away his tear before looking at that red fucker “They’ve been through so much…I didn’t want to get their hopes up. It’s not like they would believe me anyway” Logan admitted Wade placed his hand over his heart “Aw look whose heart grew three sizes” Wade mocked, making the Wolverine glare at him. Wade internally panicked, he needed Logan since he was an anchor beam and it’s not like this Logan could start fresh with the Y/N from his universe since they're dead. Meaning that Wade had to come up with something and fast.

Wade groaned making Wolverine snap his head toward him “This is the worst episode of Dr.Phil ever!” Wade whined. Wade grabbed Logan “You stay here and I’ll go talk to your precious Y/N who left like they were about to cut their hair, okay Peanut” Wade explained, surprisingly Logan agreed. Wade skipped towards the stairs. Wade saw some neighbors snooping “Yes children it’s Moi. Nothing to see here” Wade assured, he was about to introduce the peepers to Baby Knife but the peeping toms got the hint and closed their doors.  

As Wade reached Y/N’s apartment he tried to figure out how to persuade them to join him and his Peanut. He needs them to say yes so he can save his family.

[fuji-sen]

the 'evil imposter' just wants to be a baker!

Prologue: The Food turned Imposter?!

Part 6: Ginisang Ampalaya

[ part 5 ] || [ masterlist ] || [ part 7 ]

divider is made by @/saradika-graphics

"Wait!" Paimon yelped as the Pyro slime that accompanied you lunged at them, going into their ignited state. The floating fairy dodged with ease as Aether was about to bring out his sword out of its sheath.

"Don't hurt them!" You pleaded, and he hesitated, which caused the Pyro Slime to hit him in the face. "Wait Don't hurt Aether either!"

"Yeah!" Paimon nodded in agreement, but yelped in fear once again when the pyro slime turned its attention to her and glared. Who knew something as cute and small could have such a fiery gaze.

Ignoring the two smaller companions, you worriedly approached Aether who was on the ground, he was rubbing his face and wincing at his own touch. "Oh I'm so sorry Aether, he didn't mean it okay? he was just protecting me." You apologized, hands reaching to his face to find the skin dry and warm, but luckily he did not end up with any degree burns, perhaps it was the plot armor protecting the main character's face.

Luckily the blond seemed to be nice about it as he let the incident go, "'s alright, I kinda did freaked you two out." he waved his hand to dismiss your apologies.

Your eyes continued to glance at his face, soaking in his appearance and the finer details the game did not have, it did not also do justice to the other worldly beauty that is Aether "Still your face is a bit red, is it because of pyro here?"

Aether rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed "I'm fine really. it's just . ." he glanced away from you and you flushed realized how you were invading his personal face.

Reeling back you awkwardly chuckled "so what brings you two here?" "Oh. ." Aether stood up, holding his hand out for you silently as he thought about what to say. Should he not tell you just yet so he could easily observe you while your guard wasn't up? or should he tell you now and risk you putting on a mask?

"Well. ." Paimon looked away, slowly floating closer to the duowhile eyeing the pyro slime warily who also approached it's master, you. "We just wanted to get materials and do a few quests in the area." Aether easily offered with a well practiced smile.

Bobbing your head, you didn't think too much about his lie. You had a sneaking feeling after all on why he was here. A part of you wanted to run, run from anybody that wasn't an 'enemy' or 'mob' by the games standards. But Aether was an outlander, maybe he didn't have this crazed devotion to the Creator like Jean and Lisa did.

You took his hand without complaint or any fear, were you this quick to trust people? he wondered. "Thanks!" you smiled at him and stood up with ease- but quickly faltered as something electrocuted you both. It was a tingly sensation at first, until light and golden lightning sprouted from where your two hands made contact, then it travelled, to your wrists then up your arms-

"Ack!" you yelled, shivering in fear as you stepped back, slapping his hand away. "I'm so sorry! What happened?!"

Your eyes widened as you stared something right in front of you. There, right in front of you, emitting a golden light. . was a holographic tabs you'd seen in sci-fi movies.

"What the. ."

[Color] eyes met golden ones, both wide due to shock. You two could both see it. It displayed both of your inventories-

There you could see the uniform Katheryne had given you, the only item in the Cosmetics Section, which was an entirely new section!

୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

You two had left the shores of the lake, far away from prying eyes as you two entered stormterror's lair. Since the hilichurls may not take kindly to Aether and Paimon you stayed at the east entrance you had used to get to the lake.

The entire walk had been silent, you and Aether having a calculating look in your faces as you tried to understand what this means for the both of you.

Deciding to just fuck it and hope he doesn't kill you, you decided to speak first, taking charge of the conversation. "Aether. . by chance, did you always have the abilities to have your own inventory space and pull out a virtual map?"

You two had also separately inspected the glowing virtual screen that displayed in front of you. "Yeah, it's something me and my sister picked up from traveling different worlds." He told you, eyes finally moving to glance at you.

That would explain it other than saying the game developers just gave it. "I see. Then, why do I have one. I may come from another world, but being here is purely accidental." You told him and watched as their jaw drops.

"You're also from another world?!"

You nodded at Paimon's question, then put a finger to your mouth to make them quiet down. "Yes." You weighed the options of whether to tell Aether about the whole world being created by a game, it would definitely destroy the residents of the world's mind, but Aether wasn't affected the laws of the world, maybe he'd be safe with this knowledge. . or does uttering it cause an event similar to what happened in the deserts due to the forbidden knowledge?

Still since Paimon was here you decided to hold off on it.

Aether frowned, did that mean you were no imposter nor the creator. That would make you a normal person stuck in a very bad situation. Still. . your voice was familiar to him, as if it was a forgotten song he was slowly remembering.

You felt familiar yet different,

new and old,

friend and stranger. .

"You are finding your sibling right." you suddenly asked, no, it was more of a statement with your tone. The way you spoke and held yourself in front of him, you knew something.

Then your face contorted into one of sadness and pain, as you told him "The journey ahead of you will be very tough Aether, you're sister was fine, but for reasons I'm not yet entirely certain about, she does not want to be found, nor does she want to leave Teyvat at the moment."

"What?!" he grabbed your shoulders, tight enough to make you wince as he desperately waited for an answer.

"She. . She is planning something with an organization, I know things but I cannot make a certain conclusion with it." She winced, the lore and story of teyvat was heavy yet she wasn't an expert, nor was she one to theorized the future and even then she had a hard time wrapping her head around the story. She didn't want to misinform Aether because she, you acknowledged that you aren't entirely sure of things anymore.

The game didn't have a creator, so what knowledge is real or false, what information has been neglected in the game that may be important here?

"At. . at least she's alive." He sighed, nearly falling to the ground from the revelation. Knowing his sister was alive was nice enough, that she was well and kicking and planning like usual. "Could you, could you let go of my shoulders now? it's starting to hurt. ."

He quickly let go "I'm sorry!"

Waving him off, you rubbed your shoulders, the pain slowly disappearing. "It's alright." you assured him, you understood why he reacted after all. This was just the cherry on the icing anyway, the future. . despite being surrounded by many people, you couldn't help but think that Aether was lonely, for he missed his sister who was always within out of reach.

"You, you know my name though, and about my sister. If you come from another world. . how do you know?"

You eyed Paimon and your pyro slime, "could you two leave us for a bit? how about you eat some fruits and pinecones." you suggested to the two with a smile. The two small companions stared at each other, and despite pouting and huffing, they obliged.

"I cannot say for now. I don't know how you'll react to it." You honestly confessed once the two were out of earshot. Would saying that he was in a world that was created to be a game destroy him? because he would realize that his and his sister's journey, separation and the loneliness was caused to be the premise of a game where he was to be controlled for entertainment. .

"However, all I can tell you, without bringing the world to destruction (with forbidden knowledge) is that I'm always on your side Aether, I have been with you since the beginning of your journey."

"beginning. . but" he clutched his head at a flurry of memories, he knew Paimon was the one there with him, ever since he fished her up. But then those memories slowed down, connecting with one another to be coherent.

"Alright, so now I have to fight the shogun to end the archon quest in Inazuma. ." there's a faint voice in the back of his head as he stood in the middle of Ei's throne room. The ashes of Signora laid on the tatami mats as the Shogun silently stood, waiting, or were they paused.

And just like usual, his body was covered in a faint golden glow, it was like he was stuck in a warm embrace as his body was being controlled. He pulled out his map, as his finger clicked on a waypoint to a domain.

"Since I got Ganyu, I should build her for the boss fight. Then I'll cook some recovery Items." A voice said, he couldn't quite tell where it came from. Because it felt like the voice was from everywhere and no where in particular, it was in his head, it was from above, then to his sides.

Suddenly he watched, while standing inside the Momiji-Dyed Court as the visages of Diluc, Xiangling and Diona appear beside him, all covered in that same glow. They two had been summoned by the voice. "Hello Traveler, it seems her divine excellency needs our assistance. Do you know who this is for?" Diluc asked, though his body could not move, he was able to speak.

"It's for Ganyu this time." Aether said as the man nodded in understanding.

"Aether!" he was pulled out of memories, finding himself on the ground with the others staring down at him worriedly. "I. . I remember."

"Remember what Aether?"

"This. . This has all happened before. But you where there, you were everywhere. Your voice, your guidance, you control us, control me as I travel to Liyue, then to Inazuma, then to Sumeru and Fontaine. But you also controlled other vision users!" he said, his voice had started off as slow and in awe but as he continued he spoke faster and quicker.

His face turned to one of awe and respect for her, because he remembered, not everything but enough to know, to know that the voice he had heard before was the same you now held. That your warmth was still there, though now withdrawn from the pains the others had caused you.

"You helped me."

"Ah. ."

Yet your face turned to a stark contrast from his own, instead of awe or happiness, you stared at him terrified.

. . .

Aether knew, he was beginning to become self-aware. You assumed he was talking about the times you controlled him to push forward the plot, to finish archon quests after archon quests. . You hoped he wouldn't utter those words, you were afraid of causing another incident similar to that of Sumeru's.

Seeing you look, he took a few deep breaths, placing his hands on top of your own as he sat up, once again your eyes met and he said softly, and with all the sincerity he had.

"Thank you."

Even though the world and time itself rewound, even if he lost all progress and has to go through all the nations again, still he can't forget about her help. Vaguely he could recall your commentary from different events, how you were silent when he died, and how you had been respectfully silent to mourn for his death. How you shouted and complained when his sister left him once more, when none of the first three archons could give him any concrete information. How you laughed when you chose to call Paimon an emergency food every now and then. How you shared his sentiments, wishing you didn't have to help everyone only for missing flyers to be your reward.

"hic. ."

You found yourself crying again, you knew the world was just a game, and you knew you only played it because of the food, and the visuals and for comfort at the beginning, but for you to get attached to the characters and the world, for you to painstakingly go through those annoying missions and dialogue, to build characters and pull for them. . .

to have Aether of all people to genuinely thank you, when he had gone through a lot of things (and he remembers) made you feel a sense of accomplishment, what you did wasn't useless. It wasn't for nothing.

Because if it were nothing, he wouldn't be thanking you, and shedding tears with you.

⟡𓌉◯𓇋₊˚⊹♡

"You guys are weird!" Paimon complained as she rubbed her swollen eyes, having shed a few tears to "Who shares a few words and suddenly bursts into tears anyways!"

You and Aether chuckled, walking once more as you offered to show him where and who you have been staying since nearly being killed by Lisa. "Make sure to not attack or scare them okay? The hilichurls are nice as long as you are too. Right?" You turned to the pyro slime who made a motion similar to that of a nod.

"I. . I see. I'll make sure to be on my best behavior." Aether said though seemingly he had begun to regret the idea when you were heading for a very huge hilichurl camp.

"Unu!" You hear someone shout, and they repeated as if spreading the word that you had returned. "Hi guys-" you said before gasping as a few hilichurls began to attack Paimon and Aether.

"What hey-!" you yelled stopping them, "Odomu, they are Odomu!" you quickly said pointing to them. "Odomu?" they hesitated, clearly suspicious of the two new comers who accompanied their God.

You nodded in confirmation, "This is Paimon, and that is Aether, whose hair you are still pulling." Huffing you approach, chiding the hilichurl who was pulling the blond's hair.

Pinching the bridge of your nose you repeated, first pointing at Paimon "Odomu Paimon. Odomu!"

"Odomu. ."

"Aether, Aether Odumu."

"Odomu. . ."

Then you smiled as they finally lowered there weapons, your hand stretched out, patting their heads like you would do for a child "Good. . Good job guys. Thank you for trying to protect me."

Despite the language barrier, seeing your soft expression, hearing your gentle voice and feeling the warmth form your touch alone. . they simpered.

"She makes Hilichurls look like docile puppies. ." Paimon couldn't help but comment as Aether silently nodded, his hand petting his frayed hair.

The hilichurls calmed down when they realized she had returned from a trip, pulling out the contents from her rucksack they slightly deflated from the lack of meat. Rolling your eyes playfully at their reactions you asked Aether for some help getting some Meat and Eggs which luckily he had in his inventory.

So as you managed to convince the Hilichurls to let you cook, you found yourself in the cooking area with Paimon, Aether and your Slime. The pyro slime returning to the dug out hole with ashes and wood.

"Oh I'll get some sticks and branches!" Paimon offered as she looked around the camp for materials to stoke the growing fire. "Anything you need help with?" Aether turned to you, realizing he was left with no tasks as Paimon and your slime were finally getting along swimmingly.

"Well can you fill the pails with water for me?"

He nodded "sure, that's easy." With the help of his map he was able to find the few ponds or rather water sources near the camp. After a couple of trips, he was now helping you wash the ingredients clean.

"So while Paimon and the Slime are busy, can you tell me what you know of this. ." you trailed off before bitterly spitting out ". . imposter and creator situation I got myself in?"

Aether begun slowly explaining while you both began preparing, he was tearing the cabbages as you were cutting the bitter gourds. "So first, there's this Divine Creator. In simpler ways to explain, they are higher than the archons, possibly Celestia. And they're considered the mother of all due to her caring and warm nature."

You nodded along, scooping out the inner contents of the bitter gourd or 'ampalaya' after having slicing the ampalayas into two. It was luckily you found wild ampalaya growing. "They think I am her or some cheap imposter then?"

"Yes, apparently imitating the Divine Creator is grounds for quick execution without trial." Aether said with a frown, one that mirrored your own. That was. . unfair. "Do they not understand a person is not born with the choice of how they look like?"

He didn't have an answer to that, whether the residents of Mondstadt were fanatic believers that didn't take the time to think about things logically or whether they were just. . dumb, well he wasn't sure. It was beyond him really, their thinking process that is.

"Anyways, Kaeya sent me here, he was a bit skeptical of how they handled the situation and quickly labelled you as an imposter. He told me how there is a prophecy, that well prophesized how an imposter, a demon or sign of catastrophe would come to Teyvat and cause disasters while wearing the face of the great Mother to smear their name and spite them."

"So me going to Teyvat when Dvalin was terrorizing the city as Mondstadt. . was just some bad timing for me. ." your frown had deepened. You were slowly becoming even more bitter as you held the knife tightly and begun to cut the ampalaya pieces into thinner slices.

"uhh" Aether wanted to get the knife away from you as you dangerously begun to cut the ampalaya in a quick and heavy pace due to your foul mood.

"so," your smile was icy "anything else I need to know about?"

"Jean, Lisa, Amber and the other knights are hunting you down since they haven't found your body in the lake. . ."

thump!

"c-can you give me the knife-?"

OMAKE

the hilichurls sadly stared at the food you had prepared for them, not much meat in sight. they even noticed you had prepared something with bitter gourds, which they knew would be very bitter.

Paimon and Aether were silently waiting as well for someone to eat first. The atmosphere was thick and they wondered if it would be rude for them to start eating now.

Meanwhile, Pyro was eating some sticks and pinecones, which burned into nothing inside their fiery stomachs. You sat near them, a smile on your face as you patiently waited for them to eat your cooking. Having noticed their eating tendencies, you realized that they ate more meat than vegetables. "Come on it tastes good, It's not going to be bitter I promise."

Ginisang Ampalaya was the dish you cooked, it was something you learned from one of your Filipino classmates. It had a mixed of ampalaya slices, eggs, tomatoes, some pork, and onions too. It would be nice to have some rice but even Aether hadn't been able to buy any.

"You need to eat your vegetables too." you told them. The samachurl who had also been silent, decided to take a bowl of the ampalaya, "Mosi gusha!" (eat vegetables!) it told the others who repeated in a more sad "mosi gusha. ." and thus they begun eating. But. .

"!" they stared at the meal, finding it to not be bitter as they had anticipated. They tasted the meat and the eggs more than the bitter gourds. and so they ate at a more happy pace.

Paimon and Aether followed, with Aether smiling "This is good, I didn't know you could cook something like this without a recipe!" You chuckled, cheeks flushed with the praise "It's no big deal, I learned that in school."

"Oh like a home economics class?" he briefly remembered a world like that, perhaps it was yours? "Kinda but more professional, its a cooking school so you can become a chef."

"A chef?! that settles it! come with us in our journey to find aether's sister!" Paimon said through a mouthful.

You all smiled and laughed as you talked, and suddenly you didn't feel so bitter anymore.

To help the readers in their long journey, I decided to give you a few functions! Nothing tooo op, but something very useful especially for travelers and chefs! You have your own inventory system (which is the same as the ingame one)! Of course shared with the traveler as you two are connected as the player and the vessel!

NAMING THE PYRO SLIME EVENT: ONE ACCOUNT IS ONLY ALLOWED TO SUGGEST AT MOST 2 NAMES (this applies to me)!

Current compiled suggestions: Fuji_Sen has suggested! Lava Cake or "Java" based on the food / coffee" Fuji_Sen has suggested! Monsieur Creme Brulee or "Creme" based on the food. @Fantasyhopperhea has suggested! Soleil or "Sol" @Cactus4226 has suggested! Ruru (Py-ro, ro -> ru -> ruru) @bunniotomia has suggested! Helios or "Hel"

taglist: @fantasyhopperhea @rhoswen-drake @cchiiwinkle @aman3kkun @coffee-or-hot-cocoa @bunniotomia @esthelily @earth-to-name @fandomfan-102

hopefully the tag works now, I've been having trouble with a few accounts since the tag wouldn't work on them. If you are not tagged successfully that means tumblr thinks you are a bot (because you don't have posts, or much interaction), you have been shadowbanned, or your visibility is set to prevent you from being tagged.

check here for more info.

[metalomagnetic]

Either must die snippet

***A dear friend asked on discord if I have some EMD writing left, so here it is.***

----

Harry hadn’t stopped screaming since he entered the kitchen; he’s furious. It’s been a long time since he exploded in such righteous anger.

Cheeks red, jaws set, and those damned eyes of his glinting. Why, it’s almost like before, back in the war. Of course, now at least he can appear somewhat intimidating, what with the size of him. He doesn’t intimidate Voldemort, but it is easy to imagine he could make a random individual cower. Voldemort would like to see Harry going off like this on some pesky journalists or one of his stalker fans. It would be entertaining.

As it is, it’s not entertaining at the moment. It irritates Voldemort to be screamed at.

One flick of his wrist, and he could silence Harry. Another flick and he can send him crashing into the wall. To resist temptation, he drums his fingers on the table, reaches inside to find patience. It’s getting harder and harder to be patient these days. He had to suffer it for a while, but now he’s back in power. A Minister, not a war lord, yet people learned not to trifle with him, not to glare at him, not to talk back.

Even Harry learned, as the years passed by. He minded his business, and he let Voldemort be. Yet it’s not worth the trouble to put him in his place, now. He can already imagine the dramatics that would follow. Harry would break again, and Voldemort will either have to lock him in an attic, never to be allowed in public, or he’d have to put in the effort to build him back up, and he certainly lacks the patience for that. Hermione would be insufferable about it. Delphini would cry.

Harry must be aware of these unpleasant outcomes, too, because while he screams, he doesn’t dare do more than that. He cries, too, tears of pain and frustration and pure despair. That improves Voldemort’s mood a tad. Harry always looks good when he’s crying. “I asked for one thing!” his voice breaks, rough. “One thing! You have everything, and I said nothing- you use me, you use my name, you- I only asked for one thing.”

What a lie. Harry might not verbally ask for much, but those pitiful eyes of his ask plenty, and Voldemort gives it to him. The ungrateful brat.

“And you couldn’t let me have it! You’re a monster!”

Show him, a voice begs, a voice that was dormant for so long, but it’s waking up lately. Show him the monster. Show him how patient you’d been with him all these years. Show him how it could have been.

Voldemort ignores it. His fingers curl around the table, momentarily, because just drumming them isn’t enough anymore, he itches for his wand, but then the crisis is avoided, and he is in control, he won’t snap. He does stand, because it’s safe to do it, his temper is in check, and Harry tired himself out with his tantrum. “You asked for her life,” Voldemort reminds him. “She is alive.” Moly Weasley lives. Thought it seems a misfortune befell her earlier that day. Well earned. Delicious revenge. Harry, sadly, is not the type to enjoy the poetic justice, the mastery in this delivery of punishment.

She lives, like he wanted, she isn’t even in pain, but the score was settled. Fleetingly, he wonders if Bella is happy, if she laughs gleefully in the afterlife. Perhaps not- Bella was never one for poetry, for subtlety. She got her vengeance in blood and screams. Harry stares at him, shaking his head. “I hate you,” he whispers. Voldemort did not want to break him, but he broke, anyway. So fragile, this boy of his, despite his impressive muscles, he shatters like glass. “Nothing new,” Voldemort replies, and walks out of the kitchen.

As soon as he reaches the garden, he feels his anger rising, now that he isn’t focused on not hurting Harry until he explodes into a pile of blood and bones. He gets angrier and angrier with every step. He feels as impotent as Harry must feel. No matter how mad the boy was, how obviously hurting, he did not even think to draw his wand at Voldemort, or punch him, like he once did. He would have- for Molly fucking Weasley, he would have. Harry has few limits, but the Weasleys are one. Harry would crash and burn with them, for them, the world be damned. He didn’t, however, because he must know, deep down, that it wasn’t Voldemort. But he can’t admit it to himself, not consciously. Voldemort is a convenient scapegoat. Voldemort is a monster, rotten and evil, and it’s easier for Harry this way. Easier than the truth.

He Apparates to Lestrange Manor, and he thinks of Bella again. How odd- he hadn’t truly thought of her in years, but now he feels her around; when he walks to Lestrange Manor, is feels like before, like when he’d walk this path and knew he’d find her and Rodolphus inside. He doesn’t, of course. He finds a copy of her, instead. Bella left him copies of herself, echoes that remain to dwell the earth in her absence. Voldemort walks past Andromeda, strolls through the Manor, until he finds Rodolphus’ copy.

Voldemort knows Rabastan is guilty as soon as he lays eyes on him. That stiff posture, the fear in his eyes, even if he keeps his chin up, defiant. “Your wand,” he snarls. Andromeda followed him, she’s frowning, confused, asking what the matter is. The matter is that Voldemort was disobeyed. “Leave,” Rabastan begs her. “Leave,” Voldemort snarls at her. Andromeda is a cheaper copy of Bella, in all senses. Tamer, sadder, broken. But wiser. She leaves.

Rabastan gives up ‘his’ wand. It’s not his, of course, just like Voldemort suspected. He knew, as Harry was screeching, as Voldemort sat there trying not to snap, he was thinking how all this could have been accomplished. Delphini is at Hogwarts, after all. Impossible for her to also be at the Burrow. Unless she Apparated there. But she wouldn’t risk doing all that with her wand. It became quite obvious who would have given her a wand. “It had to be done,” Rabastan dares to speak. “You moved on, but I can’t; not until justice was served. You moved on, but Delphi couldn’t.” Delphini is a far better copy of Bella, compared to Andromeda. But, as Voldemort feared- you do not fear!- as Voldemort suspected, she is no true copy of her mother. Oh, she’s her spitting image, she has some Black traits in her personality, but no- Delphi is his copy. The anger reaches its peak. Voldemort always treasured Rabastan over most others, awarded him more leeway than most others. But Rabastan is no Harry, he’s no Delphini, and Voldemort snaps.

He reminds Rabastan who he serves, whose mark is on his arm. Useless, of course. Rabastan was never one to cow for pain, nor learn from it. Yet his pain serves to soothe some of Voldemort’s anger, lets him take it out on him. Another convenient scapegoat.

(-)

She does walk like Bella, a confident, defiant tilt to her hips. She walks loudly, proudly, as if used to have others look at her in awe, covet her. She brought her heels, even if the path to the Forbidden Forest is not exactly best suited for heels. Whenever she angers him, she knows to make herself look even more like her mother.

Once, when he searched her mind, he saw Rodolphus teaching her this, on the night before he left her at Rowle’s. “It’s best if you look like her,” he told her, advising her to let her hair free, to wear the dresses Bella favoured. “He treasured her above all others, and, in time, I hope he’ll treasure you, too.” She doesn’t stop at a respectable distance, like Bella would have done when she knew she messed up, when she angered him. No. Delphini comes close, closer than anyone dares.

She’s taller than Bella already, and the heels almost bring her up to his chin. She looks up, and those are his eyes, that is his glare, his defiance, his stubbornness. “What potion did you give her?” “My own invention,” Delphini says, and pride flushes stronger on her face. “They won’t detect it.” “And if they do, then what is the problem, no?” Voldemort asks. “Who is going to suspect a perfect school girl? And if they do suspect her, who is going to blame the Minister’s daughter? Who would dare arrest her?” Delphini shrugs.

“If you plan on using my influence to stay out of trouble, if you know you can easily fall back on me to protect you, then you should discuss things with me before you do them.” “Why bother,” she spits. “You would have said ‘no’. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission.” He should have tortured Rabastan more, because not all the anger is out of his system. Furry comes back hot, coursing through his veins, going to his head. “Ask for forgiveness, then,” he hisses, and he takes the step that separated them, towers over her. If she wants to play these games, he’ll play them. She will lose. It’s time for her to learn to lose- Harry spoiled her, far too much. He ignored Voldemort’s warnings that Delphini shouldn’t get away with everything she does, that he should push back, whenever she tests them.

As always, Harry’s kind, tolerant heart, explodes spectacularly in his face.

Delphini doesn’t cower, not truly, but he can detect the current of fear that passes through her. Strangely, it does nothing to improve his mood. Terrifying people usually soothes his fury, but now it just taints it with an unknowable feeling. “I thought you loved Harry,” he says, softly.

“I do!” Her fingers curl into fists at her side. Her neck is bent back uncomfortably, trying to keep Voldemort’s gaze. “She’s alive, isn’t she? Like he asked. She loves Harry, didn’t forget him, and she’ll no doubt dote over him, like a mother. In fact, now that she only remembers loving him, she’ll love him even more! I took nothing from Harry! He can have his pretend mummy! I only took away the memories of all her living children! It’s only fair!”

Delphini’s voice gets louder. Defensive. “She stole my mother from me! So it’s only fair she forgets all the beautiful memories she has with her children, memories she didn’t let me form with my mother. It’s only fair she will only remember her dead son, like I have to remember my dead mother, every time I step foot into the Great Hall, where that harpy took her from me. From us! You lost her, too! And now Molly Weasley cannot remember her husband, either! It’s fair, it is!”

It is beautiful, he agrees. It is poetic and it is just. It is perfect. However.

“You knew he’ll blame me for it; you understand he’s devastated; you understand how he’ll avoid me now, how he’ll suffer, how he’ll moan and whine at me for months on end, start drinking again, retreat into his spare bedroom and rot there for who knows how long. You are perfectly aware Hermione will blame me, too. That it could potentially harm my work. You knew this would affect me. And you did it anyway.” He cups Delphini’s face, and she finally flinches, though she doesn’t draw back.

So beautiful, this child. So intelligent. She loves Voldemort, understands him like no other. His perfect girl. If Voldemort would have ever wanted a daughter, if he’d have been given the chance to make her, build her from scratch- this is what he’d have imagined. Only, he still wishes she would have been more like Bella, or Rodolphus, or Harry; it would have been easier. For him, and for her. Alas, she is not like them. She is like him.

“She deserves it,” Delphini insists. “She hurt me!” Ever her tears are perfect, pretty shapes, clear, trailing down her cheeks. “That never works with me, Delphini,” he reminds her, using his thumb to brush one tear away. “I know!” she hisses. “Nothing works with you! That’s why I didn’t ask! Because you give Harry everything he asks, you are so attentive to provide him with what he needs, but you never care about what I want. What I need. I asked you to punish her, you promised me, remember? When I first met Ron. You promised me! But then Harry asked you to spare her, and you did what he wanted. You forgot about me, about my pain-“

“Shut up,” he says, softly. “I allow you far more than I would anyone else. Harry is my prisoner, he does only what I allow him to do, even if he deluded himself into thinking otherwise. I give you freedom. I don’t make decisions for you. I accept you as you are. But-“ he takes his hand away. “Do not trespass against me, Delphini,” he warns her. “If you want to hurt others, don’t use your mother as an excuse to do it. More importantly, don’t hurt people that are useful to me. Ask before you pull something like this again. And when I say ‘no’, better heed it. Or leave. Go far away, and make trouble there. This is my country, and nothing happens inside it without my say so. I worked for sixty years to subdue this island. If you want that kind of power, you will have to work for it, too.”

[howlingday]

Dragon GF Super Post

Bully / Dress / Strength / Jaune & Yang /

Because of our parents arrangment, we've always been close. But the truth of the matter is... I've always had feelings for you... As we grew older, there was a sudden height difference. Even though it's rare, I understand that some people start growing gold hair instead of normal blonde. The next thing I know, you and I look so different from what we used to look like.

Yang: Why are you staring at me? It's real creepy.

Jaune: C-Creepy?!

Beacon Academy, one of the few schools in Remnant that let you attend regardless of your family background.

Guy: Oh? Your dad's done how much blackmail? I bet I could take him.

Gal: Oh, your mom burned that many stores down? Well, I'm sure my mom would love to meet yours~.

Dude: And even if she doesn't, who the hell cares? We don't need anyone, baby-girl~.

Everyone seems to be shamelessly flirt about it, too...

Jaune: (Gulps, Thinking) Alright! Time to shoot my shot!.

Jaune: Uh, h-hey, Yang? Do you, I dunno, wanna try holding hands today? Maybe?

Yang: HUH?

Jaune: J-Just for a little while! I mean, we're engaged, and everybody already knows about it, so wouldn't it be weird to be the only couple NOT holding hands?

Yang: Mm... F-Fine... But only only for a little while...

Jaune: Really?! We can hold hands~?!

Yang: J-Just until we get to class! Try anything funny and I'll pound you!

Jaune: That's okay with me. (Holds out hand) Here.

Yang: (Red-faced, Reaches for his hand)

Cardin: There you are, Yang! I've been waiting for you!

Jaune/Yang: !!

Cardin: In case you forgot, I'm Cardin Winchester! They say you're the strongest student at Beacon. Fight me!

Cardin: Huh? Oh, the rumors are true, huh? You're really going out with a string bean like him? HA HA HA! What a joke!

Cardin: After I beat you, why not go out with me instead~?

Yang: ...ruined it...

Cardin: Hm?

Yang: I SAID YOU RUINED THE MOMENT, YOU BASTARD!

Cardin: (Half his face indented) Huh-

Yang: (Launches him skyward)

Jaune: ...

Yang: Jaune, come here...

Jaune: Huh?

Yang: You... You wanted to hold my hand... right?

Jaune/Yang: (Holding hands)

Yang: ...HEY! What the hell are you people staring at?! Buzz off!

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

Yang: (Kid) Hi, Jaune~!

Jaune: (Kid) Oh, hi, Yang.

Yang: (Flips hair, Giggles)

Jaune: ...What?

Yang: Wha- Don't ya notice anythin' different?

Jaune: Huh? U-Uh... You changed your hair?

Yang: Don't ya know, Jaune? When a girl changes her hair, you have to tell her how cute she looks!

Jaune: O-Oh, really? Well, uh... You... look really cute with a ponytail~.

Yang: (Gushing) Thank you, Jaune~!

10 Years Later...

Jaune: Good morning, Yang!

Yang: Huh? Oh, mornin', Jaune.

Jaune: (Blushing, Awestruck)

Yang: ...WHAT? YOU GOT SOMETHIN' TO SAY, THEN SAY IT!

Jaune: Huh?! Um... It's just... Your hair.... You look really beautiful with your hair in a ponytail.

Yang: (Blushing) Wha- U-Uh... (Turns away, Stomps off) I-I DIDN'T DO IT FOR YOU! IT'S JUST REALLY HOT RIGHT NOW! TH-THAT'S WHY I PUT IT UP!

Jaune: Huh?! Y-Yang!

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

Yang: Huh? J-Jaune?! Are you okay?! What-

Kid: Professor! She did it! She's the one who hurt Jaune! I saw her!

Yang: What?! N-No! I-

Student: I saw her, too! She hurt Jaune!

Child: Yeah, yeah! She beat him up! She's a monster!

Yang: N-No! It- It was an accident! I...

Kid: She did it!

Student: Hurt Jaune!

Child: Monster!

Yang: (Sits up in bed) NO! (Panting) Ah... Another nightmare... I... I need to get ready...

Meanwhile, at Jaune's...

Jaune: (Working the punching bag)

Cardin: (Memory) Huh? Oh, the rumors are true, huh? You're really going out with a string bean like him? HA HA HA! What a joke!.

Jaune: (Punching harder)

Yang: (Memory, Steps in front of Jaune)

Jaune: (Grits teeth, Hits hard as he can)

Jaune: (Panting, Thinking) What... What the hell am I doing?

Meanwhile, back at Yang's...

Yang: (Whistles as she cooks breakfast)

Ruby: (Sneaks in) GOT IT-

Yang: (Casually backhands Ruby's face) Nope.

Ruby: (Rubs her nose, Pouts) Owie~! How could you hurt your adorable baby sister like this~?!

Yang: You can have breakfast AFTER I'm done cooking it. Go get ready for school.

Ruby: Oh, fine! (Hugs) Love you, Yang~!

Yang: ...

Ruby: Ooh~! Ponytail again today? Something good happen~?

Yang: (Blushes) I-It's the weather, okay? Putting my hair up like this is less annoyin', y'know?

Ruby: AND I see that you made three lunches for today. One for me, one for you, and one for somebody else. Is that also because of the weather~?

Yang: ACK! I-It's also for me! I'm just feeling extra hungry today! Besides, it's none of your business, Ruby!

Ruby: Hm~? (Snuggles Yang) I'm sure he'll love it, Yang.

Yang: (Smiles)

Meanwhile, elsewhere...

???: Huh... Morning already? Good morning...

Bleiss: (Stares at Jaune picture) My darling~.

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

Ruby: It's been a while since we walked to school like this~!

Yang: Ruby... Why are you here?

Ruby: What? I can't walk together with my big sister anymore? Don't be mean!

Jaune: Hey, Ruby! It's been a while.

Ruby: Oh, hey, Jaune~! Y'know, I've been thinking about having a cute guy like you in my harem. It's too bad you and Yang are already engaged. Anyways, I've got a question for you!

Jaune: Huh?! What?!

Ruby: You're walking two beautiful girls to class. Doesn't that make your heart race~?

Jaune: U-Um...

Yang: (Danger emanating from her) WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?

Ruby: Y- Yang, it was just a joke... Calm down!

Jaune: Well... To be honest... I don't really care who I'm walking with, so long as I'm walking with Yang, I'm happy.

Ruby: ...

Yang: (Blushing)

Ruby: JAUNE, THAT WAS SO GOD DAMN CRINGE, I THINK I'M GONNA THROW UP.

Jaune: Huh?!

???: WHAT THE HELL DID YOU SAY?!

Ruby: Hm? Some kind of commotion over there?

Yang: More bullshit? Just great...

Cardin: I'M CARDIN WINCHESTER, DAMMIT! AND I'M HERE TO KICK YANG'S ASS FOR REVENGE!

Cardin: I don't pick on weak girls anymore, but I'll make an exception if you don't get out of my way, you bitch!

Bleiss: Weak? Ohoho... Now you've done it...

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

Bleiss: I'm going to give you just one warning. Stop causing trouble, or else... You got that... Beringel brain?

Cardin: (Swings) YOU BITCH-

Bleiss: (Flicks her wrist)

Cardin: (Legs start freezing) Wh- WHAT THE-?! H-HEY! WHOA! SLOW DOWN! I WAS JUST KID-

Cardin: (Block of ice)

Student: Whoa~! She took down that guy without taking a single step~!

Teen: What else would you expect from our class rep~?!

Bleiss Gele-Schnee - Daughter of Jacques Schnee and his mistress. Beacon first year class representative.

Bleiss: Stupid, annoying... Pyrrha, let Professor Goodwitch know about Cardin causing trouble again. Everyone else, look around the school for his cronies! Idiots like him never work alone...

Bleiss: Well?! What are you waiting for?! Do it now! Classes are gonna start soon!

Class: Y-Yes, ma'am!

Ruby: Oh, Cardin came back already? Well, I guess it was just a couple lines, huh?

Jaune: Beacon first year class representative, Bleiss. She's the daughter of the CEO of the Schnee Dust Company. Honestly, the only trouble I have with her is...

Jaune: ...SHE'S OBSESSED WITH ME.

Bleiss: (Gasps, Hugs Jaune) DARLING~!

Yang: HUH?

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

10 Years Ago...

Bleiss: (Covering her eyes) 1... 2... 3...

Jaune: Yang, let's split up!

Yang: Okay! I'll find you later~!

Jaune: No way she'll find me here-

Bleiss: Found you~!

Jaune: ACK! H-How did you find me?!

Bleiss: Of course I found you, Jaune~! I'm always looking out for you, you know...

Jaune: Huh...? Always...? What do you mean by that?

Bleiss: It's true. You're the only one I have eyes for~.

Bleiss: ALWAYS~.

10 Years Later...

Bleiss: Darling... You were almost late to class. That's no good~.

Yang: HEY. GET OFF HIM, YOU BLACK ICE BITCH.

Bleiss: Hm? Oh, why, if it isn't the problem child? Who do you think was cleaning up after you mess from the other day, hm~?

Yang: I didn't ask for you to do that. Now get your hands off him.

Bleiss: Darling, I've warned you before, but I'll say it as many times as I have to so you understand. Someone as kind, and sweet, and gentle as you shouldn't have anything to do with bandit trash like her.

Bleiss: DID YOU FORGET WHAT SHE DID TO YOU?

Jaune: Bleiss, that's enough.

Bleiss: Why? It's the truth, isn't it?

Bleiss: SHE HURT YOU. SHE DID IT BEFORE AND SHE'LL DO IT AGAIN.

Yang: (Shaking)

Bleiss: BECAUSE SHE'S JUST LIKE HER MOTHER...

Jaune: I TOLD YOU TO STOP!

Yang: (Hurries away)

Jaune: Yang! Wait!

Bleiss: J-Jaune! Darling! Wait! I was just... worried...

Later...

Pyrrha: Bleiss, we've finished everything you- HUH?!

Bleiss: (Seething, Shaking)

[audzss]

Thin Line ~4~ Finale.

Summary: After waking up to an empty bed, Y/n has had enough. If Rafe wants to act like nothing had ever happened, two can play that game.

Thin Line Masterlist

Word Count: 1,727

Warnings: explicit nsfw, p in v, oral (fem receiving), technically dacryphilia?? idk, use of mama (non-sexual).

Thin Line

When Y/n wakes up to an empty bed, she feels more confused than hurt. The last few nights Rafe had been staying until she had woken up, or even waking her up before he left. It was odd, but she brushed it off, getting out of bed to get ready for the school day.

-

When she walked through the halls after her third period, she had finally spotted him. He was leaning against a wall, his friends gathered around him. Her smile widened as she let out a breath of relief, almost thinking that he hadn't gone to school today.

She approached him happily, ignoring the nervousness she felt from being around his friends. "Hi Raf-"

"Why are you talking to me?"

Her smile drops immediately, eyes widening as she stared into his eyes. He was just smirking at her, his eyebrows furrowed, almost looking confused. Y/n took a few moments to gather herself enough to speak, "Are you fucking serious?" She spat out, watching his eyes widen.

He was scared, she noticed, scared that she would blurt out what had been going on in front of his friends. Was he embarrassed of her? Y/n's heart panged, her eyes glossing over with tears.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone." She mumbles, finally ripping her gaze off of him. She walked away slowly, tears streaming down her red cheeks. She didn't know how to feel, embarrassed? Used? Heartbroken? She came to the conclusion that she felt all three.

She walked past her fourth period to the exit of the school, she couldn't stand being in the same building as him for another moment.

-

It took her hours to finally stop crying, to finally decide that she just needed to get over him. It was over, there was nothing she could do about it, and there was no use to cry over it.

She didn't bother making herself look good this night, putting on a hoodie and some sweatpants instead of her satin pajamas, leaving her hair in a messy bun. She didn't expect him to show up, after all that.

But when she heard that knock on her window, her heart started to race. She snapped her head over at the glass, seeing his hair that was so unmistakably him. She got out of her bed, slamming her pint of ice-cream down onto her bedside table.

Marching over to the window, she ripped it open, not even bothering being quiet tonight.

He had the audacity to smile at her.

She snarled at him, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

And he looked confused! She could almost laugh at him, watching the gears turn in his head. "What are you talking about, Y/n?" She scoffed, smiling but without the usual softness that she once carried. "You have to be joking, Rafe, you cannot be serious." She scoffed, watching him put his fingers on the windowsill.

In that moment, the only thing she could think about was slamming the window back down onto his fingers.

"Is this about what happened at school? It's really not that big of a deal-" She couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth, not that big of a deal?

"We fucked Rafe! What do you mean not that big of a deal?!" She yelled, watching his face turn red, his face softening. "I'm sorry.. I didn't know it meant that much too you.." He mumbled, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck.

"Are you kidding me? You said you liked me, how could it not mean that much too me." Tears started to flood her eyes again, she really didn't want to start crying again, but Rafe just had to go and ruin everything she had going for her.

He stayed silent, looking everywhere but at her, nervously biting at his nails all at the same time. Y/n just scoffed, watching him. "Yeah, that's what I thought." She mumbled, moving the window down to close it.

"Wait!" Rafe yelled, catching the bottom of the glass before she could fully shut it. "Please I.. I'm sorry.. look, let's just talk and-" Y/n rolled her eyes, quickly interrupting him.

"You've done enough talking Rafe, just leave." She mumbles, hurt etching her voice. She watches Rafe's eyes widen, almost looking like he was about go into a full blown panic.

"No- No, please.." He hushes out, his gorgeous blue eyes beginning to water, he reaches through the window to grab Y/n's hand, only for her to yank it out of his grasp. "Go home Rafe." She says quietly.

"Please- Please Mama, I'll do anything.." He says, his voice cracking as tears flow freely down his cheeks, his hands clasp together at the back of his head as he paces, but Y/n doesn't say anything, just watching him break down.

He lets out a choked sob, before setting his head down onto the hard concrete of the windowsill, hiding his face from watching eyes. Y/n can feel her resolve cracking by the minute.

"I swear.. I'll do anything- I- I'll tell everyone everything if I have to I just.. I can't lose you.. I'm s-sorry.." He mumbles with his head down in between choked out sobs. Y/n doesn't know if she'll regret this or not.

"Just.. come in.." She mumbles, moving out of the way to allow room for Rafe to climb in. He snaps his head up, his cheeks wet with tears. He nods, sniffling as he climbs his way up through the window.

Once he gets his feet on the carpeted ground, Y/n shuts the window behind him, not daring to look at him. He's still crying, just watching her, trying to get a read on what he could do to make things better instead of fucking everything up again.

He wipes his face with his jacket sleeve, before taking a step closer to her. He places his hand under her chin, gently guiding her head up to look at him. She complies, but still keeps her eyes off of him, looking at the wall to her side.

"Look at me.. please.." He asks shyly. Y/n sighs, closing her eyes, before decidedly giving in, looking deeply into his eyes. He swallows, bringing his free hand up to wipe the tears off of her cheek.

"I'm sorry Mama.." He mumbles, noticing the way her face softens. He gently smiles, before leaning down and pressing his lips against hers in a soft kiss. He holds it there before a second, before parting them, relishing the way her lips stay parted.

He leans down once again, but this time to press a kiss to her cheek, then her jawline, then her neck. "Lemme make it up too you.." He whispers into her ear.

-

Y/n doesn't really know how she ended up with the man who she was trying to get over just a few hours ago in between her legs, eating her out like a man starved.

She whined softly, bucking her hips up into his face. "Faster.." She whispered, relishing in the way he immediately complied, his thumb rubbing circles into her clit picking up its pace, his tongue inside her following suit.

She moaned a little louder, her hand that was in his hair tightening and pulling, the groan he lets out just increasing her pleasure. His one free hand is entangled with hers, squeezing her tightly.

"M' sorry.." He mumbles into her pussy, making her moan a little louder. He's grinding his hips into the mattress, aching in his sweatpants, but he couldn't be bothered by his own pleasure right now, his focus was on her, he wanted her to see stars.

"Rafe- C'mere.." She panted out, and Rafe was immediately hovering above her, his chin dripping with her arousal as he licked his lips, acting as if she was the best tasting desert in the world.

"What do you want, Mama?" He mumbles, his thumb still rubbing circles into her clit, making it hard for her to get the words out. "Want you- Want you to fuck me.." She says in between pants, looking at him with wanting eyes.

"Course'.." He says, sitting up to pull his sweatpants and boxers down. She whines at the loss of contact, but continues to watch him. He spits in his hand, stroking himself a few times before lining himself up, looking back at her.

She nods, both of them gasping as he pushes into her. "Fuck.. y'feel so good.." He all but whines, his eyes fluttering shut as he bottoms out. Once he starts to move, neither of them can find it in themselves to keep quiet, Y/n's nails drawing angry red lines on Rafe's back.

Rafe whimpers, dropping his head into the crook of her neck as she moans into his ear, "M' so sorry Mama.." He whispers, his eyes shutting as he continues his rough thrusts. She takes one of her hands off of his back to roughly grab at his hair, listening to him hiss and whine at the pain.

He finally picks up his head to look at her, tears flowing down his cheeks in either pleasure or guilt, Y/n doesn't know, but what she does know, is that he looks so fucking good when he cry's, his tears only driving her closer to her climax.

"M'close.. are you..?" He mumbles out between low groans and moans. She nods her head, causing him to lower a hand down in between them, pressing two fingers against her clit, moving them in circles to help her along.

His thrusts start to get sloppier, her moans getting louder, until they both reach their finish. Rafe letting out a low, drawn out groan, Y/n letting out a gasp, then going silent for a second, before a loud Moan that Rafe has to cover her mouth for.

And as they both sit there, soaking up the after shocks, Rafe only has one last question to ask her.

"D'you forgive me?"

Y/n lets out a deep sigh, her hand coming up to play with his hair.

"I don't know, you might have to prove to me that your sorry a few more times."

They both burst out laughing, hands wrapping around each other in a loving embrace.

End Note: Anddd thats it, hope you guys enjoyed it, im working on a few more projects atm :) also some man called me mama the other day now i cant stop thinking about rafe saying it so thats where that came from, anyways hopefully my try at actual nsfw wasn't too bad, also sorry for any typos or grammar mistakes!! again, was super late when i wrote this and again, i don't feel like really reading it over

[centrally-unplanned]

Academic History YouTuber Premodernist released video recently on "State Flag" discourse, and flag discourse more wildly, that I thought was pretty good! I agreed with 50% of it. For those who don't know, there is a longstanding movement in the vexillology community to push for more simplified flag designs, and they hate the state flags of the US as their antithesis; a movement that catapulted into the internet mainstream when YouTuber CGPGrey released a video riffing on that debate and grading all the state flag designs.

That video is great by the way (it's hilarious, CGP Grey is just very talented as a performer), and the biggest thing Premodernist is wrong about is that the state flags do suck. But what he gets right is that the so-called "principles" briefly referred to in the video are themselves pretty weak; some are fine but others do not hold up to much scrutiny. The state flags largely suck for the boring reason that they just suck; they are shitty designs and often repeat each other in a domain where "standing out" is the point. Like what the fuck Montana:

This is something a 5th grader whips up in PowerPoint for a class presentation. Helvetica Bold?? "Mandated by law in 1985" yeah I didn't need Wikipedia tell me this decision dates to the 80's.

But that is boring and subjective, right? You can't just say they suck. So you had to make a theory about it - and I won't go into too much detail but it generally boils down to:

Make it simple, "something a child could draw"

Make it "distinct at a distance", since it is a flag you are supposed to see it at a distance

Three colors or fewer

No words on flags

Which I think you can get the philosophy for. These principles, which CGP Grey outlines, actually come from the work of Ted Kaye, who is a big figure in the aforementioned flag reform movement and the focus of most of the video. As part of the original CGP Grey video I just rolled with that, but I did remember him showing Utah's newly designed flag at the end which embodied these principles, and uh:

This is kind of mid? Like it doesn't suck, but it looks like a corporate redesign of a hockey team logo or something. A bit of a red flag (hah) if your front-and-center case is weak.

Anyway this is what Premodernist digs into in the video. The stuff I agreed with the most are the parts where he just ???? at some of these rules. "No finicky bits", a "child must draw it", "distinct at a distance"? None of these actually track for say this one:

A child drawing the US flag does not draw 50 stars and 13 stripes unless they are a budding librarian; you absolutely cannot tell if this flag has 50 stars on it from a distance, and that level of detail is clearly some kind of finicky. Of course your response is "okay sure but still, I can tell what the flag is from a distance, I can't count the 50 stars but I get the gist". But that is true for almost all flags!

It's a fern and a peace pipe and a brown thing and the word "Oklahoma" below it, you absolutely, 100%, will be able to tell what this flag is at a distance. You don't need to count the leaves to get the general shape, and when you think about it, it is actually kind of silly anyone would claim otherwise. There just isn't any need to appreciate the tiny details on a flag to understand whose flag it is. (the only valid critique here is that everything should be bigger - too much dead space)

Not to mention the "see from a distance" thing even being a metric. That isn't how you encounter flags most often today? Maybe in the 19th century on a battlefield that was (and even then you had battle standards), but it isn't now. You see it in textbooks, on your computer screen, as an icon for a football game team, right next to you in a government office. Why privilege distance? You just made that up as a value. 99% of "flag consumption" is not seeing it at a distance.

The "only use ~3 colors thing is the funniest", you can just argue this with...no? No you don't. You don't. What? No. You can...you can just use more colors? Here is an example from the "manual" Ted Kaye wrote on the subject:

And the 5 bands on the chinese flag are fine! They are not "hard to look at" or whatever. Also, I am screenshotting a tiny corner of a youtube video, this image is like 240p, and I can tell its a dragon - and that isn't even the color point it is trying to make, dude just deviates off into another critique. Meanwhile the Amsterdam flag looks like a traffic warning sign. Chinese flag needs to not have the white stripe connect into the white seal background, that is an error, but otherwise I prefer it.

It is annoying how many of the state flags are a blue banners with a round seal in the middle. That does make them hard to distinguish from each other. But that isn't a problem with seal-on-blue, that is just a collective action problem! Flag-reform-favourite the tricolor can run into this too - here are the flags of the Netherlands and Luxembourg:

Like one of your needs to go home and change, that is ridiculous. Though if you had a complex seal in the middle that might avoid this problem! Funny that.

Even the "no words on a flag" argument, which I am more sympathetic to, doesn't hold up too well because too often you find yourself going "unless it is good" which just isn't a rule. The Iranian flag is the stand-out he mentions:

The middle crest is a stylized rendition of the name Allah, and the cursive lining on the tricolor bands are text as well - God Is Great, 22 times, marking the anniversary date of the Islamic Revolution. Stylistically beautiful, also words on a flag. The state flags just didn't try to do anything artistic.

I think the best point Premodernism mentions is a sort of stylistic unity Kaye & Co are pursuing above all else - everything sacrificed for corporate minimalism. Kaye's book will say it respects history and symbols should be meaningful, but then hates any symbols that require complexity. He singles out Turkmenistan as an ugly flag for example:

And as I said I only 50% disagree sometimes, I do think there is a complexity limit, and this flag goes over it, that is too detailed. Though the main reason this flag is bad is the weird choice to not put the banner at the edge, and have the crescent just...float off center? If it was this:

Two seconds in paint, already better, you can play with it. But anyway, you can say the symbols are too complex, but if you also say you care about historical meaning? Turkmenistan is a nation of traditional semi-nomadic tribes, who populated the Silk Road and made textiles as their ultimate expression of art. These carpet guls are traditional symbols used in those carpets that represent the five major tribes that compose the country. You can't just invent new symbols that have equal meaning to these, right? Like you can try if you want, sure, new symbols become meaningful all the time. But a rule that says "all art from before 1950 is tossed in the dumpster because it wouldn't pass muster as a Pepsi logo" is a weird rule to adopt if you say you value historical meaning. Turkmenistan does not have to look like France, and it is weird to want every national symbol to be aesthetically coherent to each other. Let 100 flags bloom! It is certainly "distinct at a distance" lol.

Anyway that is enough summarizing of a YouTube video - as I mentioned, he actually likes the state flags, I don't, I do think you have to balance a lot of this with just "general design principles". Never have your name on a flag in Helvetica Bold, amazing I had to write that one down for you. But a lot of these flag-specific rules derived from Kaye's work I often see bandied about are silly, and I was glad to see someone point that out.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Any way you want it

Written for @steddiesmuttyseptember, week 4

Prompts: Slap & Loud

Rated: E

Words: 1,282

Tags: Nudity; Light BDSM; Blindfolds; Sensory play; Slapping; Dirty talk; Top Eddie; Bottom Steve

Steve doesn’t know for how long he's been here. It's hard to tell with the blindfold on, the way his mind has gone fuzzy and soft, but his legs are starting to ache from keeping his kneeling position and the ropes binding his wrists behind his back are starting to chafe, so it must've been a while. He supposes he could call out, ask Eddie to end it, but the mere thought has his hackles rising and his teeth gritting, so he doesn’t. Instead, he counts his breaths, tries to focus on the crackle of the fireplace and the pleasant warmth of the flames on his aching limbs.

“How are we doing, baby? Desperate yet?” 

The words tear an involuntary gasp from Steve’s throat. The last thing he remembers is Eddie closing the bedroom door, the sound of his boots thunking down the stairs. How far gone has he been that he didn't hear him return? 

“Desperate?” is what he says. He's a little proud of himself for how his voice comes out, all casual disinterest with only the barest of trembles. “Bored, more like. I thought the goal of this was to make me horny, not tired.” 

“Oh, Stevie,” Eddie chuckles. He's closer than before, even though Steve didn't hear him move. Did he take off the boots? Steve fidgets in his spot, straining his neck and trying to peek out from under the blindfold, but it sits snugly and won't budge. “That's the problem with you, y’know. You're too stubborn for your own good.”

A hand wraps around his throat, pulling him back against a warm, naked body. Eddie’s cock presses into the space between his shoulder blades, thick and fully hard, and Steve gives a strangled moan as he feels himself twitch to attention. Something clinks, like a glass being set down on the mantelpiece, and he frowns at the sharp, earthy scent that hits his nostrils. 

“Wait, did you get into my dad's good whisky?” 

Eddie laughs. Something touches Steve's collarbone, something hard and sharp-edged and cold and he hisses at the sting of it.

“Why not?” Eddie says, slowly dragging the ice cube down, cold droplets catching in Steve’s chest hair. “Why shouldn't I drink his booze? I'm in the house he never comes back to, in the bedroom he never uses, and I have his perfect golden boy at my feet. I think your daddy has made it abundantly clear he doesn't want any of these things. I, though?” 

The ice cube drags over his left nipple, and Steve just barely manages to keep in his yelp. 

“I want it all, baby boy. The question is: What do you want?” 

He rolls Steve’s hardened nipple between two fingers, the pain only heightened by the lingering cold of the ice- … and then he's gone. Steve is left in the dark, floundering and disoriented and desperately hard, and this time, he can't contain his whimper. 

A hand grabs his jaw, from the front this time, and he smells whisky and cigarette smoke and the heady, thick scent of Eddie’s arousal. Steve moans and opens his mouth, saliva pooling on his tongue. When he tries to lean in, Eddie digs his nails into his skin and holds him in place. 

“What. Do. You. Want?” he repeats, every word sharp. “You're not getting anything unless you tell me.” 

He gives Steve’s jaw a brief, warning shake, and Steve’s cock twitches against thin air. Eddie waits. A second, two, while the fire crackles merrily and the cold water on Steve’s skin slowly goes warm. And Steve still can’t see him, but he knows he must be a sight to behold. The black lines of his tattoos contrasting with pale skin, dark curls basked in a halo of red and orange by the firelight, the smug smile playing on those perfect, plush lips. He wishes he could see. 

He could say as much, he guesses - except the thought makes something unbearably soft stir behind his chest, so he doesn’t. 

“You,” he says instead, struggling to form words around the hand still clenching down on his jaw. “Want you.” 

“Aw, honey,” Eddie coos, all fake sweetness. His grip doesn’t ease. “But you have me already. I’m right here with you, ain’t I?” 

His thumb shifts, the pad of it pressing down on Steve’s bottom lip without quite slipping in, and it’s all he can do not to cry out in frustration. His hands twitch in their restraints.

“Your cock,” he grits out, humiliation prickling at the corners of his eyes. Suddenly, he’s glad for the blindfold. 

“Pardon?” Eddie says. “I’m afraid I didn’t catch that.” 

“Fuck you,” Steve snaps. “You know exactly what I-” 

The slap comes without warning. One second, Eddie’s hand is on his jaw, and one moment later, it’s gone, only for his open palm to connect with Steve’s face. The impact isn’t hard, but it still echoes loudly over the crackle of the fire, leaving behind a hot, stinging feeling in its wake. 

“Oh, look at that, he can speak up,” Eddie drawls. His hand fists into the hair at the base of Steve’s neck, tilting his head up. “Now listen to me, baby. You’re gonna tell me what you want, and you’re gonna tell it to me loud and clear. Do you understand?” 

Steve bites down on his bottom lip to keep in the sob building at the back of his throat. 

“I can always leave again,” Eddie says. “Give you another hour or so to-” 

“No, please,” Steve blurts. He doesn't know why, but the thought of Eddie leaving him alone again fills him with a horrible, cold dread. “Your cock. Fuck, I need- … I want your cock, want it inside me.” 

It feels so weird, saying it out loud. Embarrassing and mortifying and freeing and beautiful all at once. His voice cracks pathetically around the last syllable, but he can't bring himself to mind - not when Eddie makes the softest, fondest sound and cups his face in both hands. 

“That was so good, honey,” he praises, and Steve’s breath hitches in his throat. He can't quite tell if it's a sob or a laugh, but when Eddie strokes the pads of his thumbs over his cheeks, he realizes that they are covered in wet tracks. “Where do you want it?”

“Everywhere,” Steve babbles, the words rushing out of him in a mad tumble, now that the dam has broken. “Wanna suck you off, want you to come on my face, want you to bend me over the bed and fuck me into the mattress and fill me up with your-” 

"Whoa, sweetheart,” Eddie says, pressing a long, chaste kiss to his lips to stop the barrage. “I'd love to do all that, but let's take care of one thing at a time?” 

Steve whines again, the prospect of having to wait, of having to choose when he needs everything, everywhere, at once, sending fresh tears of frustration to his eyes. 

“How about,” Eddie says, lips ghosting over his mouth, his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, “if I fuck your face first, until I'm nice and hard for you? And then, when that's done, I get us on that bed and you can ride my cock until we both can't come anymore? How does that sound?” 

“So fucking good,” Steve breathes. “Can we start right now? Please, I need-” 

“Of course we can, baby,” Eddie coos, slipping a tender hand into Steve’s hair in the same movement that he pushes his cock into his mouth, stuffing him deliciously full. “See? Good boys get everything they want. They just need to know how to ask for it.” 

More smutty September

[strawberriesandstories]

Touch <3

Summary: James has always been touchy until oneday…he’s not

w/c: 1.3k

warnings: nothing much! Just fluff xx

(THIS IS NOT PROOF READ SO BEWARE)

a/n: this is my first story! It’s pretty shit and I wrote it while half asleep in a plane but oh well!

James had always been touchy. Y/n was used to it, though when they first became friends in year one, it took her off guard. She wasn't accustomed to this type of physical affection. Her family weren't really huggers… they weren't really anything, to be honest.

James had always been touchy which is why on the first day of sixth year, y/n was utterly confused. They had met up at the platform as usual, but James made no move to hug her or even say hello.

what?

he looked at her for a second, there was something in his eyes, something that hadn’t been there before…it was almost like a silent plea for something…something y/n didn’t have.

“Hey Jamie…?” Y/n said akwardly, scratching her head not quite knowing what to do.

He was always the first one to say anything

He was always the first one who made the move

He was always the first one to do anything really.

“Hey” he murmured back making no effort to keep the conversation going. Anxiety bubbled in her chest as she tried to think what had possibly gone south between them. When fifth year ended everything was fine, but the more y/n thought about it the more she remembered the little things.

Like how he hadn’t invited her over to his house that summer like normal…or how when they said goodbye he had squeezed her a little less tighter than normal. Maybe she was just overthinking it, maybe everything was fine.

“You look different”

Finally

“Oh-I uh changed my hair”

It was true though she had gotten into a fight with her mother and decided the best act of revenge was bangs and washed out cherry red hair dye. 

“Cool…it suits you” something twitched at the corner of his mouth and he gave her a saddish sort of grin

He took a step close before stopping and sighing again

“Do you remember my thing for Lily-“ 

“Bloody hell mate we’re gonna miss the train” 

a loud voice broke through interrupting whatever he was trying to say as Sirius sauntered over to them with Remus close behind.

“What are you lot doing? I thought we told you to meet up on the train?” Remus rolled his eyes at Sirius’s badgering and stepped away from him.

“Well we’re all here now so let’s just get on” 

and with that they boarded the train and found their regular cabin.

Remus and Sirius sat together as always and James took his dedicated seat next to her. They sat together in silence and listened to Sirius have a one sided argument with Remus over ABBA and QUEEN.

“Hey…uh wanna talk?” James leaned in and whispered in her ear, his breath was hot, the feeling sent a shudder down her spine as she nodded. He gave her a small smile and left the room.

Remus looked at her with an eyebrow raised before turning to Sirius, a wordless conversation seemed to flow between them before Remus spoke up.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” He paused before going on.

“I don’t think you’ll like the conversation”

“Oh shut up moony she’ll be fine, just let her go” Sirius barked slapping Remus on the shoulder.

She furrowed her eyebrows confused, why was everyone being so cynical today?

“Huh? What do you mean…uh you know what never mind” she huffed and left to follow James.

“Hey love” he was leaning against one of the empty cabin doors in the quieter section of the train. Everything about him screamed aloof or non-chalant (BAKA) it was so un-James like.

“Your acting kinda weird is everything okay?”

y/n asked worriedly and mused with her hair

Maybe she was overthinking it, maybe everything fines and she’s just being silly

“Oh uh” he laughed awkwardly and re-adjusted himself so he stood upright in front of y/n shuffling his feet slightly.

“I-uh…you didn’t come to the manor this holidays”

She stiffened

“You didn’t invite me”

“…oh right-uh I didn’t think I needed…to”

His ran a finger through his dark curls and sighed

“This is hard-why is this so hard? I mean it was so easy with Lily” 

“What about lily? James whats actually going on?”

“God-I” he sighed and took a step closer to the girl semi-trapping her against the compartment door.

“Remember when I liked lily?” 

Y/n rolled her eyes who could forget? It was all day everyday, all he would ever do was talk and talk about her…she loved lily they were close friends but everytime he mentioned her she felt this silent ache in her chest. Y/n just assumed it was unease with the fact lily didn’t like him back, she was obviated just worried about James’s unrequited  feelings…probably. 

When she didn’t answer he went on.

“It was easier back then…I liked her a lot but it’s-it’s different now I guess, I mean my dramatic gestures never seemed to work and now…now I don’t know what to do”

So this was why he was acting weird? He was worried about Lily? God and here she thought it was about her.

“If your worried lily doesn’t like you why don’t you talk to Mary for advice? They share a bunk in our dorm” 

He paused his eyes softening, he reached up a hand and tucked a strand of loose hair behind y/n’s ear. 

“No-Lily and I…well im over her, I talked to her about it late last term and she-mentioned how my dramatic gestures and clingy-ness was off putting”

No it wasn’t,  it was cute . Y/n had always had a soft spot for stuff like that she never really understood why Lily didn’t like it.

“So who is it then? Who’s the lucky girl” he paused again, he cupped her face with his hands before quickly dropping them and taking a step back.

“Do you think I’m too clingy?” It was a genuine question, he was being serious. Why was he acting so strange?

“No-but everyone girls different, James you dodged the question, who?”

…

“James-“

“You-of course it’s you! I mean we’ve been friends for years so I never really saw you like that but then-god I don’t know something changed…and I” he stopped before looking down and taking a step back

“I talked to lily y’know-it was stupid but I wanted advice and she told me I was always to ‘expressive’ and blunt-I didn’t wanna mess it up with you…I don’t wanna ruin anything we could have, I didn’t want to be clingy-like normal I guess so-…” 

He trailed off and let out a defeated sounding breath.

“Sirius and Remus know…they think it’s a bad idea purely based on the fact that it could ruin our group”

Oh so that explains it

“I dont…think it’s that bad of an idea-maybe” y/n’s cheeks flushed and she all of a sudden felt very hot.

“And I don’t think I’ve ever really felt that your too…clingy”

God this was embarrassing 

“Oh-well now I look kinda stupid..don’t I” he smiled-a real one this time not a smirk or fake grin and let out a loud laugh.

“Maybe” she grinned and took a step towards him, his eyes twinkled as he slung an arm around her positively delighted.

“So-does that mean I can make embarrassing gestures of my love for the world to see?”

“Nope-“

“But I thought you liked my dramatic-ness!” He let out a mock cry and pouted.

 “No-I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned that” she giggled 

“Oh-Why must you wound me?”