#bc almost that ENTIRE back section is empty. and that's how i want it. how it'd better STAY for the next week

[whoslaurapalmer]

aaaaaaaa theater tickets have been purchased!!!! 🎟️🎟️🎟️

#i was waiting until at least a week before. didn't want anyone else to get any Ideas about also sitting in the very back row #bc almost that ENTIRE back section is empty. and that's how i want it. how it'd better STAY for the next week #but i also didn't want to do it too LATE and not be able to like. get them online anymore or anything somehow #so!!!! purchase made. tickets printed. #must decide on outfit.......... #i don't have to dress FANCY. just bc it's AT NIGHT at a THEATER doesn't mean i.......have to............be super..........fancy............ #but i'm gonna look GOOD i tell you what.

[multifandomwhore-003]

Coward

Pairing: Robby Keene x female! adopted! Moskowitz! reader

Summary: Honestly, just the most angsty shit I've written in a while.

Genre(s): angst,angst, and more angst.

Warning(s): I'm only following the show's timeline from season 1 to the first half of season 4. They're Taylor Swift/Billie Eilish/other depressing artists coded, more specifically "No time to die", "My tears ricochet", "I love you", "The Archer", "Afterglow", "Line without a hook", "All too well" "That way", "You broke me first", "The Great war", and the list goes on and on so just pick your poison.

Taglist: @rafecameronswhore @barbiekatz @l-o-v-r-s @kaitieskidmore1 @rosepetalsparks join taglist here

A/N: QUICK DISCLAIMERS, I made the reader adopted bc clearly Eli's/Hawk's family is white so this way the reader can be a poc if that's the case, I started this back when S4 came out and just finished it... what does that say about me? Idk. ALSO, Robby's S4 era will always be superior, Robby from S4 you will always be famous, he was unhinged, hot, a menace, and iconic, in this essay I will-

Gif credits to whom they belong

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚗

REQUESTS CLOSED

THIS IS NOT FREE USE, YOU CAN NOT USE MY WORK

Reblog if you like

The All Valley's karate rivalry was as old as time, as strong as god's will, and in your opinion, as stupid as it sounds; not to everyone though, especially your brother, the great and mighty Hawk who loved to parade around the city with his new look that carried every piece of confidence he had, unfortunately, now that it was taken away from him, he felt worthless.

You never had a thing against any of the participating parties in this ridiculous dispute, you didn't mess with them, and they didn't mess with you, but you had a limit whenever they attacked your brother, a tiny fine line that went from 'superficial wounds' to 'profound damage' and they crossed it. More like, Robby 'cute face' Keene, crossed it. Even though there was a 98% chance that your brother had brought this on himself, he was still your brother and you'd do anything for your family.

You pushed the glass doors storming into the empty section of the building and hearing them slightly vibrate behind you, "Keene," your voice was stern, no response, "Keene!" 

"Back here!" He yelled from the back room.

The stride of your heels resounded in every corner of the concrete, a strong, dominant, and potent tone that could easily make anyone even slightly fearful. And Robby Keene wasn't the exception, no matter how many times Sensei Reese and Sensei Silver prepared him to be a champion, no matter how many hours he had proven to be Cobra Kai's worthiest inheritor, no matter how much muscle mass he gained by the minute, no matter how many days he spent in prison, no matter how many people he'd fought, no matter how many kids in the valley were scared of him, everyone has a weakness, and you were one of his.

There wasn't something in this world he could hate more than that because it didn't make sense, it didn't make any fucking sense for you of all people to hold so much power over him after everything that happened, there was an evident reason behind esteeming the adults around him, some of the other students even, but you? What else were you if not a lovely face? The most beautiful thing he's ever seen in his life, he knew the answer, a little too well for his liking, and as much as he hated it, the fact that you were so out of reach made him want you more.

But he pretended, okay? Oh, he loved, adored even, to act all tough and cocky around you as if you couldn't break his entire facade into little pieces if you so much as softened your features for him, a minimal act he thought he'd never see again, and still, he'd imagined it, he'd daydream about it almost every time you were near him, which with the new tournament coming up, seeing you became more and more recurrent, and so, it didn't get easier to hate you, in fact, the more he saw you, the harder it got.

If and only if you were held at gunpoint, you'd admit that the boy was attractive, pretty even, mostly because you would be sentenced to death by your family or hanged for treason by your brother's friends, but also because confessing to like him meant confessing you liked the guy who for better or for worse, ended up in juvie, and it was something that you didn't wanna be linked with.

You didn't have to say it to know that after all, you were still genuinely captivated by his physique and attitude, the way he carried himself everywhere he went, his ability to make himself seen without saying a word, how he wasn't easy to overlook; maybe it was just you who noticed his presence so intensely, perhaps you convinced yourself the rest of the world did as well just so you wouldn't feel so pathetic by the fact that you couldn't ignore him. And in the attempt to make your life easier and 'problem-free' by neglecting your feelings, it backfired by raising the complicity lever of your desires.

"What can I do for you, Princess?" he didn’t bother to turn around perhaps you’d go quickly so he didn’t have to train his self-control, not again.

If you were in a different mood, you would've rolled your eyes at the little nickname you despised so much, he gave it to you not only to point out that your economical status was clearly higher than his, but also to remind the 10-month-old age gap between you and your brother, a small amount of time that doomed your life to always be put under him, to your family, he was going to grow to be a King, the one who was gonna inherit every important part of their heritage, and you were stuck to be only that, a Princess.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't put your ass back in jail?" You fumed, irritation blurring out your judgment.

"Because legally, I did nothing wrong, and even if I did, you have no proof of it," he grinned.

"Then explain to me what the hell is wrong with you?!” you spun him by his shoulder,  “You really thought you could just casually shame my brother by cutting his hair and I wouldn't come here to defend him?!"

"You mean the same hair that made him think he could be a bully?" he remained calm.

"You know damn well I never agreed with that," you spat, "Do I need to remind you he was suspended for a week because I went to the principal? And regardless of that, you wanna complain about him making others feel less with violence while you do the same?" you scoffed,  "Wow," you stated with sarcasm.

"It's hair, it'll grow back,"

"You humiliated him! You made him nothing! Not to mention you used a barber's blade, idiot, did you think about how fucking dangerous that was? You could've seriously injured him if he made the wrong move!"

"I warned him, good thing he knows how to listen, he’s not as stupid as he looks," he taunted you more.

You shook your head, "You're gonna listen to me Keene, and you're gonna listen to me very carefully," you got close to him, "If you even so much as breathe in his direction before the tournament, I will end you,"

He chuckled, "Is that supposed to be a threat?"

"No, only cowards like you and your minions make threats, mine is a promise,"

"I'm not a coward," he clenched his jaw holding back the increasing anger.

You laughed, and somehow said more than words could.

"Says the one who came here when it was all alone knowing that if it wasn't, you would've gotten your ass beaten,"

"By who? Your little friend who's on probation?” you tilted your head with an arrogant smirk, “No, you see, I came here at this time because I'm smart, I mean let's be honest, you've never done anything to hurt me and you never will, because… well," you raised your shoulders feeding the fire in his eyes.

"So what? Do you want me to hurt you to prove that I'm not?" he towered over you.

You nodded, "Yes," you took another step towards him, "But then again, you don't want me to win, do you? Because if you hurt me, then that means you care about what I think,”  your voice got slower, “and what would that say about you? True winners don't have to prove anything to anyone but themselves, that's the difference between all of you and me," you separated from him slightly, "But go ahead, make my day and land the first punch,"

He froze in his place processing your words and just barely he noticed he missed your closeness, he couldn't bring himself to do so, pushing down the consuming rage that, later on, would show up stronger when Silver and Kreese find out about this encounter.

"That's what I thought," you scrunched your nose,  "You karate nerds are so stupid, who needs to get physical when you have words?" you told more to yourself, and right when you were about to make, what you considered, a triumphal exit, your arm got yanked, your chest hit him, and your faces were less than an inch away, "What are you doing?" you whispered.

The vulnerability of your words and the fragility of your look melted him, for a split second he lost track of his purpose, but it wasn't until he remembered your words that he snapped out of the trance, "Hurting you," he whispered back before placing your lips on his.

It didn't take long for his action to hitch your respiration, stun your nerves, fill your veins with adrenaline, whisk your logic, and for you to correspond. It was embarrassingly quick if to be completely honest, but it didn't matter, frankly, you were so unashamed of it that your hands slipped behind his neck pushing the two of you impossibly closer. It was hungry, desperate, and frantic; you finally understood Adam and Eve no matter how much you hated religion, finally comprehended the temptation of the forbidden fruit, sweet, delicious, and addictive.

Instinctively, he gently pushed you against the nearest wall and you felt his fingers getting lost in your hair, "I don't need to use a lot of strength to hurt you," he pulled you away trying to recover his breath, "I'm gonna hurt your pride by making you moan my name,"

"Easy there, snake boy," you managed to gasp out as you trailed your fingertips fastidiously along his jawline whilst slightly lifting his chin, "What makes you think you won't moan mine," you weren't ready to let your guard down, not yet, you then switched positions holding his shoulders against the cement. In an act of pure selfishness, you softly cupped his face somewhat catching him off guard, his nose brushed yours as your top lip created contact that was so minimal it could almost be imperceptible, "Nice try,  Keene, but unfortunately for you, I don't fuck losers," you mumbled, although you could've said it in a more impactful tone, you knew, you knew that the intimacy of it all would make your words burn into the very depths of his soul.

You walked out of the Dojo quite easily with him as perplexed as a Marmol statue, the catch was having to drive around the city to cool off your system and release the tension of it all. However, it didn't work, not even a little bit, not even at all, your mind played every different scenario of the continuation of your reckless actions, it was your fault, and you had to accept it, you went to face him knowing damn well how you felt for him, you went knowing damn well he wouldn't just back down easily, knowing he would've put up a fight one way or another, you knew deep inside you, you knew this could happen, you wanted it to happen. 

It was inevitable, your brother was just the perfect excuse and you used it, you took advantage of it, you abused it even, he begged you not to do anything and you didn't care enough to listen, you just had to see him, you had to confront him after almost a year of holding back. 

You met him while he was still working for the LaRussos, Daniel and your mom had known each other since college, so whenever they began a conversation, no one could stop them or be part of it; on that occasion, you two were invited for dinner, you brother naturally skipped it, but you were forced to go. You couldn't really complain, Sam was nice company at times, and you would mostly gossip about school or complain about teachers, nothing too deep; however, it even amazed you how rapidly you connected with Robby. Was your entire conversation from that night centered on making fun of the adults? Yeah, but you couldn't stop cackling the entire time. After that, whenever you saw each other you two resumed that same chemistry, constantly coming up with inside jokes or witty comments regarding your family, friends, possible love interests, etc. It then patiently evolved into a solid friendship by revealing heavy details of both of your lives; other types of sentiments involved or not, there was a time when all you had was each other. 

But the school fight changed everything, Hawk had a personal vendetta against the person who put one of his best friends in a coma, and you... you were scared, not furious, not bitter, just terrified. Of him, your brother and his friends, Sam, everyone that had to go through the aftermath of it all; you burned all of those bridges, gasoline and everything, changed schools in a different part of town, shut down that part of your life. You couldn't afford to give your family another reason to put you under. 

"Y/N,  could you stop procrastinating and do something productive?” your mother interrupted your thinkings, “I gotta take this call, take care of them for a minute," she pointed at the waiters.

"Oh, yeah, sure, I- I'll watch them," you answered.

She stepped away.

You huffed scanning the restaurant your family proudly called theirs, it was a second home, warm, comfy, filled with known people, and although you couldn’t make sense of it, you’d always perceived the hazy calmness through the chaos. 

There was something hardly recognizable besides the door, at first glance your eyes overlooked it, but as you double-checked your body tensed and your eyes widened so much you were sure they were gonna pop out, he was here.

The last time he showed up at the business was the night before the incident, your parents had conveniently gone to a business dinner and your brother had no intentions on getting out of the house with his hangover, and like every other time he'd been there, you two would steal food from the kitchen, go up to the rooftop and talk about nothing and everything.

Flashback

"And now Mr. LaRusso doesn't wanna have anything to do with me," his voice weakened.

"Oh my god, Robby," you wasted no time in hugging him tightly, "I'm sorry," 

He nuzzled in the crook of your neck sparking something in your gut, you never failed to react to the crumbs of intimacy you always had. His eyes began to water, tears falling into your shirt.

"It's okay, it's okay," you comforted him, both of your torsos gently swinging.

"It hurts so much," he sniffled, "Why does it hurt so much?" it might've sounded a little too melodramatic, perhaps absurd, but he wasn't afraid to be like that, vulnerable, not with you, you never gave him a reason to be.

You pursed your lips, your throat was dry, you were speechless although you'd never been the quiet type, and all you could do was hold him even tighter, a subtle yet relevant symbolism that reminded you that was the closest you could get.

"Why does everyone always leave?" he let the question settle into the breeze although it felt more personal.

It broke you to see him like this, no pain you've ever felt was comparable to seeing he whom you love miserable, there was nothing else you could do but be there, though you didn't think it was nearly as enough as what he needed, "I- I don't know," you couldn't tell if you were lucky to have never experienced such experience, or misfortunate to not have said wisdom to heal him. You cautiously cupped his face, as if one of your movements could hurt him more, he was like stained glass, complicated, fractured, fragile, and yet, his cracks and colors made him the most beautiful soul you’ve ever met "I won't leave you," you ran your thumbs through his cheeks, drying the small showings of his pain.

"You promise?"

"I promise,"

End of flashback

You tried not to draw too much attention to yourself while jogging towards the entrance, "What the hell are you doing here?" you blurted out.

"I wanna talk to you," he seemed happy, probably because of how fearful you, on the other hand, were.

"You- you can't be here right now, I'm not messin' around," you shook your head, you had to react as discreetly as possible.

"Why? Your brother isn't here,"

"It's not just my brother, okay? My family will kill you on sight, please, listen to me," you grabbed his shoulders, "We can't talk, not here,"

"Where then?"

"I-" you looked around making sure your mom was still in her office, "Do we really have to do this right now?" you insisted.

"Yes," he stated firmly.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, "Okay, come on," you pulled his hand with a strength that wasn't necessary.

You entered the tiny meetings room on the other side of the establishment, because of your dad's usual tantrums, it didn't have a camera and it was sound-proofed; you made sure to lock the door and turn off the light so it wouldn't be visible from the bottom of the wood.

"Okay, make it quick, I need to get back to my mom," your words were rushed and stumbling with each other.

"You truly are terrified of your parents aren't you?" he crossed his arms.

"I don't have time for this Robby-"

"Thought I was 'Keene',"

You only began to call him that after in consequence of the Karate outrage, his first name felt too personal, too close.

You shut your eyes in frustration, "Can you stop being an ass for a second and get to the point of whatever it is that you wanna talk about?"

"Why are you so nervous about me being here?" he continued to tease, truth is, he wasn't sure what he was doing there in the first place, all he knew was that here he was, with you.

"It doesn't matter, just- start talking," you pressured.

"Why are you so nervous about me being here?" he repeated.

Your fingers twitched, a manner you developed out of stress, "Because if they see me with you, I'll never hear the end of it, okay?" you fidgeted then with your jewelry.

"If you never wanna be caught in a lie I suggest you stop doing the ring thing," he pointed out, "It makes it easy to tell,"

You halted the action and then shrugged.

"Why are you so nervous about me being here?"

"Because they already filed a restraining order against you, I guess you didn't get it because you're here, but if they call the cops you'll probably end up in juvie and I don't want- If you ever wanna go back to school or get a job is gonna be incredibly difficult,"

He assumed at first you didn't wanna be seen with him because of how much you cared about the reputation of your new life, a valid perspective given how much you made an effort to conceal it all, but hearing you enlightened him, sore him "Don't look at me like that," a small part of his grudge came out.

"Like what?"

"Like you still care about me,"

A choked laugh resounded from your part, "First of all, I'm not apologizing for that, and second-"

"You should," his demeanor abruptly became more defensive.

You tilted your head, "Why?" your energy matched his.

"Because you don't care about me, and acting like you do is very hypocritical of you,"

"When have I ever told you that I don't care about you?" you frowned.

"You don't have to say it, you already proved it,"

"How so?"

"Don't play the innocent part now," he was close to losing his cool,  "You try so hard to hide everything that happened but at even the slightest inconvenience, you go right back where you started, tell me, do your mommy and daddy know you went to see me two days ago? Huh? Or let me guess, you were too scared to tell them?" 

"Oh, fuck off Keene, is that all you got? Is that the only thing that you think will affect me? My parents? My reputation?"

"Yes! Because that's the only thing you care about! You're nothing but a self-centered spoiled brat that doesn't know any better than to run away from her problems! You wanna know who the real coward is here? You are! Some of us don't have the privilege of a new start! Keep pretending all you want, but don't forget, I was your friend and you turned your back on me, I wasted my one phone call on you because you were the only person I had, and you hung up on me like I was nothing! Tell me, how am I supposed to be the coward if I'm the one who got hurt because of your selfishness?! You don't care about anyone but yourself!" as much as he attempted to divert the subject of the conversation, his eyes sabotaged him, quickly covering his face in a salty heartbreaking liquid. "You... you weren't there-" 

You were both stunned by his reaction, you'd think that with everything he's been put through, he wouldn’t snap so easily, so passionately, so emotionally, but no, all of this was a new part of himself that only you made him feel, he’d only allowed you to do so.

"I needed you! I needed you! And you weren't there! And- and then the first time you say anything to me after I got out-" 

If there's something he had while being in juvie was time, precious time he'd spent weaving, machinating; about you, about his dad, about the LaRusso's, about Miguel, about him. Strategizing his next encounter with the world was arduous, but the action of going through with it was the true challenge, and he realized how useless all that time truly was when he heard your voice the first time, suddenly all of it was gone, the effort, the time, the sleepless nights, the daydreaming noons, all of it, turned into nothing, you turned them into nothing. 

"I was happy," he exhaled like freeing himself of chains and shackles, "I was so happy, and I enjoyed seeing you mad so fucking much, seeing you in general," he laughed, "I tried to-" he choked on his words, "I tried to hate you so much because you bailed on me but I can't," every inch him began to feel... lighter, "I can't hate you," he sighed, "I- I just can’t,”

Your body didn’t allow you to move, roughly grounding you, vines of regret holding you hostage against soothing him, stopping him, following him outside, responding coherently to your family’s screams, to forget.  You’d lost count of how many days you’d feel as you were still glued to the wooden floor, completely stuck, dried-out blossoms of hope from your heart, rageful deep thorns clinging to your debilitated frame, daunting poison sinking your head.

—How many times?—

How many times would you have to come up with every pretentious and overly-thought narrative to justify everything? You’ve been silenced by your reluctance, aghast by your idealization, confined by your denial, triggered by tension, frozen by your guilt, and finally steered by resentment. 

You stared at the faint reflection from the glass, you wanted to immortalize the picture, hair slightly out of place, tugged at clothes, blood burst out of the skin, purple underneath the large organ, nostrils flowing with the lack of air, mouth agape. 

—Why?—

  You prepared yourself for the question before anyone else asked it. 

—Why was protecting Robby’s honor against someone as irrelevant as Natalie Dalmasos worth it?—

 You noticed your knuckles finally matching your brother’s.

—He’s never even met her—

Your stomach sunk as if releasing all the ire and digesting it as dread.

—Was it worth it?—

Hammering head.

—Did she deserve it?—

Striking heart.

—You screwed up everything you built—

Trembling legs.

—What did you do?—

Numbed face.

—Why destroy it?—

Streaking neck.

—Why him?—

Overwhelmed.

Then reality came back.

—Shit—

You reached for your phone, quickly texting your mother the first perfectly constructed lie you could think of, you had to disappear at least for tonight, eventually relieved by her believing your sleepover story, you started the car.

—Where else would you go?—

You blankly saw the infamous logo, the white clearness hiding the inside, you took a shaky breath and struggled to get yourself inside the walls, you didn’t have to make yourself known by words, the heavy door did all the work filling it with creaks against the floor for it being poorly moved. 

You saw him cautiously walk out of the dark.

“Robby,” you let out a soft smile.

He frowned as you gradually got nearer.

“I- I um-” you gulped, “I just got into a fight, the party- I-,” there was now a lightbulb over your head.

He rushed, “Y/N, holy shit,” 

“I- I’m fine, I swear,” you chuckled.

“Fine?! You look like shit!” 

“You should see the other guy,” you joked

He shrugged, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that, I’m just-,”

“Shocked?” you interrupted him, “Surprised? Amazed? Astonished? Stunned? fucking… every other synonym there is?”

He nodded still scanning your body, “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” he placed one of your arms on his shoulder to then swiftly carry you bridal style to his mattress. You tilted your head observing the side of his jaw.

“I never noticed you had a scar there,” you whispered.

“One of many of my mom’s bad boyfriends,”

“I’m sorry,” you delicately traced it.

He smiled, “It’s okay,” 

You were laid down rather dramatically, or so you thought by the way he treated you like you were made out of paper, you just rolled your eyes and sat up while he went to get the first aid kit. 

“This is gonna hurt,” he wet the cotton.

You scoffed, “Relax Robby, I’m a big girl, this isn’t my first drill,” 

“Right,” he nodded.

You lowly hissed when the chemical made contact.

“Thought this wasn’t your first drill,” he teased.

“Okay, just because I’ve been hurt before doesn’t mean it’s not painful,” you both laughed, “I can still handle it,”

The rest of the cleaning went somewhat silent, just a few mumbled sorries were thrown around, but by the time he had pulled out the bandages, you grew impatient.

“You’re not gonna ask?” you broke the ice.

“Not really,” he admitted. 

“Why?”

“Because,” he raised his shoulders, “It’s too late to go and make ‘em pay for it,”

“Oh god, please don’t, I already did that,”

“What do you mean?” he began to wrap your hand.

“I’m the one who started the fight because they were talking shit,”

“What kind of shit?”

“All kinds, throwing rumors and just- bullshit,”

“About who?”

You licked your lips.

—Really? Now you go silent? You’re already here, fuck it—

“About you,”

“What?” he tightened the cloth too much.

“Ow,”

“Sorry, sorry,” he let go.

“Yeah,” you confessed, “They were talking shit about you and I shut them up,”

“Who?” he was still confused.

“Some girl from my school who thinks she’s fucking… Regina George or somethin’, she’s just a bitch,” you shook your head.

“Why?”

—Why?—

You grabbed his face, and gave him the most mellow and honeyed eyes you’ve ever had, “You haven’t figured that one out yet, have you?” you joined your foreheads as you closed your eyes, “You’re not the smart one out of us anyway,” you heard him giggle.

He brushed his nose with yours, shyly getting closer.

—Are you sure?—

—Yeah—

—Fuck it—

You kissed him for the first time, but held on to it like it was the last, how was it that you could say everything with just that? The most disarming and humble expression there is; the touch of two epidermises, and the completion of dual fantasies. You almost blubber in it, oh sacchariferous little poison of yours, worth every penny, every dime, every tear, every scream, and every dream. 

He paused, taking a deep breath, yet never breaking contact.

You sobbed, “I love you,” you dried his cheeks.

“I love you too,” he whimpered.

#robby keene angst #robby keene x reader #robby keene x y/n #robby keene #robby keene x moskowitz! reader #cobra kai imagine #cobra kai #robby keene imagine #robby keene fluff #cobra kai season 5 #cobra kai season 4

[obionekboneme]

Looking for feedback

So basically I decided to make my own Eddie fic bc i’m not a huge fan of smut and 90% of Eddie fics are smut but idk if my writing is very good or if this idea I have is worth finishing. Basically I’m a sucker for slow burns and enemies to lovers so I thought this would be a fun way to approach that but the burn is incredibly slow and I intend there to be multiple parts. If anyone would read through this very rough draft and tell me what they think or if they’d wanna read more I would super appreciate it. 

You considered yourself a relatively peaceful person. Your friend group was relatively minimal. Robin and Steve weren’t exactly your friends, but you found yourself comfortable with them after frequenting Family Video so often. Every week you’d take days to decide what your next rental would be. This week was Ghoulies. 

As soon as the final bell rang you were off to your locker. Grabbing books and putting others back. After slamming the locker and spinning around you almost ran into someone. Someone with hair long enough to tickle your nose if you were to accidentally crash into their chest. Someone whose pin got stuck in your hair, a realization that came after you jerked your head back. 

“Woah take a breather there.” Your victim The stranger said when your eyes shot up to his wide brown ones. He was kinda cute.

His fingers met yours as you both tried to release your hair from his pin.

“Ya know your pins are at the perfect height for someones hair to get caught in.” You warn him slightly joking slightly annoyed.

“Well you should know if you look both ways you won’t run into people, I hope that isn’t how you cross streets.”

A humph suffices as a response and you recenter your focus on your knot. Soon enough you’re free from the vicious pin and you take a step back, missing the closeness. 

“Thank you for the help, I’m sorry to be rude but I’m really in a hurry!” You essentially yell over your shoulder as you dart off, accidentally knocking into a second person but this time running into their shoulder instead of chest of pins. 

It’s not that you didn’t want to talk to the kinda cute stranger. It’s just that Fridays at the video store were their busiest day and if someone got to Ghoulies before you it would take forever to choose a new movie. Decisions weren’t your forte. 

Unlocking the bike you jumped on the seat and blasted off, coincidentally rushing past your long haired victim stranger. Out of breath and covered in sweat from stepping up your speed to accommodate the interruption you arrived at Family Video at last. The parking lot was almost barren aside from a black van parked near the entrance.

Fingers were crossed as you walked to the horror section. The store was relatively empty, you beat the after school rush. All signs looked good so far, or at least they did until you rounded the corner to go to the G-K section and were met with the stranger from earlier. His head was down as he intensely stared at the two tapes in hand. Not able to decide if it’d be better to greet him or ignore him as you looked for your movie, you decided to circle back. You took a detour through the comedy section and by the time you got back your beloved horror section was empty. To your horror so was the area Ghoulies should have been. What sick bastard did this? 

“How could you do this to me.” Was what Robin got as a greeting from you.

“Do what? I just got here, I haven’t done anything to you.” She responded not looking up from the computer she was typing at.

“You rented Ghoulies. I called you last night and told you all about how hard this decision was for me. You promised you wouldn’t let anything happen to it, you promised!” Your theatrics were more a source of entertainment than genuine. 

“I did no such thing. Like I said, I just got here. Steve’s been here all day, if anyones to blame it’s him.” 

Heartbroken you turned back to the horror aisle. Your replacement wouldn’t entirely fill the void that had ripped open inside of you, but it would work for now.

The week dragged on slower than ever before, but finally Friday arrived. This time you made sure to look before sprinting, not wanting to repeat the same mistake from last Friday. You got to Family Video at record speed and threw your bike to the ground, not even bothering to lock it. 

Before the door could close behind you, Steve shattered your heart.

“It’s not here.”

“What do you mean, ‘It’s not here’, Steve?!” 

“They haven’t returned it yet. The late fees do not look pretty. I’m sorry there’s nothing that can be done.” Steve clearly didn’t understand the importance of the situation.

“Bullshit, Steve, give me their address. I’ll take care of those late fees.”

“Oh and what exactly are you going to do?” He retorted.

“I’m gonna use that bat you gave me and I’m going to take their knees, then while they’re writhing in pain I’ll grab the tape.” 

By the second week desperation had set in. To prepare for Friday you did random jobs like writing peoples essays to save up money. If Ghoulies wasn’t there you’d bribe Steve with it, but if Ghoulies was there you’d get extra snacks to properly celebrate. 

However your plan was ruined when you got there to see neither Steve or Robin behind the counter. The manager replaced your beloved friends. When he delivered the news that Ghoulies had yet to be returned you tried to make a joke about bribing him for the address. He was unamused. 

By the third week you decided you had to change your approach. Falling against the locker next to Robins and placing a hand over your heart you groaned.

“Robin, please, I need to see this movie. I wasn’t even that invested but the longer I wait the more the anticipation builds. If I go another week theres no way this movie will be able to meet my high expectations. Then I’ll watch the movie and be disappointed. All that waiting, all that effort, just to hate the movie!” You cried to her.

“I’m not telling you who has it. I’m a professional.” She replied back.

Letting out an even louder longer groan you peeled off of the locker. You were about to plead with Robin some more when you spotted someone walking with their backpack left open. You let out a gasp when you also noticed the prized VHS tape you’ve been drooling over the past 3 weeks. 

“No worries Robin, I think I just figured it out myself.” You said as you picked up a light jog to catch up to the thief person walking away.

“Hey! Your backpacks open.” You decided to play it nice, if you needed to you could bring out the bad cop.

As you got closer you started to recognize the long majestic hair. When he turned around you recognized the denim vest full of pins. When you made eye contact you recognized the brown eyes. 

#wip #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #slow burn #enemies to lovers

[gon-and-killuas-mother]

i'm nearly done moving everything to my dad's house. just gotta go back to the apartment today to get all the leftover stuff and do some cleaning.

my body is very against the idea, yesterday was insanely difficult on me. but bc my friends are wonderful, i am in much better shape than i would've been otherwise. at the expense of their own fatigue and body pain, they made sure i took enough breaks and that i didn't take too many trips up and down the stairs. if i'd tried to help like i wanted to, i doubt i'd even be mobile today.

once everyone had gone home and i had to swing back by the apartment last night for a couple more things (like the cat food someone forgot to put in the car) i did take a moment to say goodbye to the apartment. i know it's an inanimate thing, but i have carried this accumulated trauma over moving since i was little. between the divorce(s) and the frequent changes of houses, i was able to make a safe space for myself in each home only to have to pack it up again a year or two later. kid me never got to grieve properly, or say goodbye to the houses. my homes.

so last night, i wept alone in the almost empty apartment. it was my first solo home, and it saw me through some of the hardest, most painful times of my life. but it also saw me grow into a more confident adult, someone who wasn't afraid to take up space anymore.

i couldn't be more grateful for that year-and-a-half of living on my own. after a lifetime of tucking myself inward to be more convenient to my family and then later to my roommates, i learned how to be comfortable with myself. i made friends with my neighbors. i was, for a while, independent and free.

now, though, i have to accept that i can no longer support myself. my body can't take the extra work of keeping a job, doing my chores, running errands, and staying healthy all on top of my disabilities. moving back into one of my childhood homes is a bizarre experience. i got home very late this morning after that trip back to the apartment, and had to creep quietly through the dark to not wake anyone up. the same smells, the same creaks and groans of the floors and stairs, the same hums of the AC, everything i remembered from childhood almost overwhelmed me.

luckily, my new room is in the downstairs "condo" my dad had built for my sister and her niece. it's made of two rooms, a bedroom and part of the den that used to make up half of the downstairs area. it's honestly bigger than my entire apartment, plus the bathroom i'm using is across the hall with the laundry room and the kitchen is upstairs, so my two rooms are all my living space rather than amenities.

my knees aren't going to enjoy the little hill between my car and the front door, nor the stairs. but now, if my body says "no stairs today", i'll have my brother and my dad to bring me whatever i might need.

now if only i could figure out how i'm gonna pay that last months rent on time ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

lastly. this might be the best possible time to start writing my book. if i can't work, and i can't do much other than stay home tending to my body, then this could be a good moment for me to word-vomit some rough drafts. and Dad would probably be pretty supportive, he's also a self published writer and has always appreciated my interest in writing. i may even let him read some of my drafts except for the possible steamy sections no way is he reading those

anyway. long day, long weekend, ready to start this new chapter of my life. saying goodbye to a home is, somehow, harder to me than saying goodbye to a person. maybe bc there's no going back? idk. signing off.

#tink rambles #i'm tired my head hurts and i'm also on my period bc why not

[yatsugareboyf]

hi :o,can i request soukoku headcanons with an adopted daughter? like, what kind of parents would they be for your daughter and how would they act in some situations? i really want to see this plss🥺

this is so cute 😭 btw (p/n) is just gonna be in place of like mom or dad just in case any of yall arent comfortable w mom/dad or any parental term and to keep this gender-neutral

nakahara chuuya and dazai osamu with an adopted daughter.

nakahara chuuya

hes so inlove. very inlove. not only w you but w his daughter :(

you probably got her when she was little, not even a year old.

her name is kian and shes currently a 3 year old introverted kid

she was orphaned at a young age because of an accident her birth parents were in:(( and you were friends w her parents and couldnt bare to give her away

"chuuya, remember my friend tht got in an accident recently?"

"yeah, what about it?"

"they left behind a kid, she's probably not even a year old. i- can we keep her?"

"what??"

probably had to think about it for a while before asking to see the child

and he fell inlove w her like omg :(

she was so small and fragile, not to mention how she smiled so brightly at chuuya when he carried her

he was silent the whole time while holding her, while kian was laughing up a storm

you let the worker in the orphanage take her back when it was time to go, and not even two steps outside chuuya went like

"let's get her today. let's just get her stuff before we go home. we're going to get her now."

and you couldn't agree more

so you came back and took baby kian with you home, driving by the mall to buy her a crib and all the othet things

OH BOY CHUUYA WENT ALL OUT GOD IDK IF HIS CARD IS EMPTY OR WHAT

almost bought the entire baby girl section.

on your first night, he refused to let kian sleep in her unbuilt nursery. so in the mean time, she slept in the middle of you and chuuya in your room.

she wasnt noisy or demanding, she was very shy and quiet which worried chuuya

"isn't.... isn't she supposed to be crying?"

"pls don't ask for it if she cries i dont know what to do"

at night she did cry a lot, probably realized that she isnt sleeping with her parents in their home anymore :(

it took a while for chuuya to calm her down, but she found comfort in chuuya and slept peacefully after that, whining whenever he had to part from her

HIS HEART IS BROKE <////3

probably swore over his dead body that he wont ever leave her side

which he know realized, after a few days, would be much harder than he thought it would

hes in the mafia, goddamnit, hes always on-call and hes gone most of the day and into the night so how the fuck will he see his daughter

he thought of bringing her with him at work but you refused, like so much it turned into an argument like

"she's going to be fine! the port mafia isn't kid-friendly but at least i'm there to protect her!"

"no fucking way, you just said it isn't kid-friendly, what if she walks in or sees something she's not supposed to see? she's gonna turn into a liability for the mafia? you are not bringing her there"

"she'll be in my office the whole time, do you think im stupid enough to let her run around a giant ass building? no"

eventually y'all settled down bcs poor kian was so confused why the both of u were yelling her name over and over 😭

you still didnt let chuuya bring her to the mafia but you also cant leave her since u have work/school too

finally, you decided it was best to let chuuya bring her, but only to have her escorted by you all the way to his office to ensure that she's in his office ONLY.

y'all couldnt hire a babysitter bcs kian alr had too many changes in her life and adding another guardian would probably overwhelm her

you worked it out and now kian is happily spoiled by his father 24/7

he wouldn't take any risky missions the first few weeks that kian was there so he wouldn't have to leave her, but once kian knew kouyou and trusted her enough, she started looking after kian whenever chuuya ran to do an errand

ofc nothing would compare to chuuya and the moment she would run to his arms when she saw him again is heartwarming

kian loves chuuya and chuuya loves kian end of story

dazai osamu

i think dazai is... indifferent with children

like, yeah they exist but he never rlly thought of having one? would he even live that long? yeah he didnt think that far

but when he met you, he almost immediately knew that you were taking care of someone at home

he wasn't sure if it was a child at first, but when you showed up one day with the sticker of a diaper on your sleeve, he deduced tht it was a baby, maybe even a toddler.

now tht u two are dating/in a relationship, you had told him abt your adopted baby boy and why u decided to adopt him

your friend loves attending events for adoption centers, retirement homes and charity events and you decided to tag along to some of them

one of them was at an adoption center where you met little baby tadashi, a baby who was abandoned by his parents because "they wanted to live their lives"

you adopted baby tadashi even if u didnt mean to adopt anyone in the first place, you couldnt seem to let go of him

dazai wasn't surprised ofc, he kinda knew alr

at first, he didnt really feel any obligation towards tadashi, like he was dating you and not your son

but the longer you two stayed together, he got to know baby tadashi and see him grow up

he didnt see tadashi that often but when he moved in, he couldn't help but watch him all the time

he felt a tiny connection with tadashi until it grew so much that he would prefer hanging out with tadashi more than going to work apparently

would take him out to the park when hes a bit older, since hes a bit energetic, or bring him to an amusement park to eat all the sugary sweets he likes and ride all the rides he sees

you were so happy to see them get along, but you always reminded dazai that he doesn't really have an obligation to take care of tadashi, since he's your child, but omg

"what do u mean? he's our child now, isn't he? he grew up with us two here with him, it'll be too confusing for tiny little tadashi to say that im not his father."

tadashi calls dazai "osa" ever since he was a baby (or how old a child can talk....) and he calls you by your nickname, never rlly by any parental terms

but when tadashi grew old enough to ask, you weren't afraid to tell him the truth, that he was adopted but you and osamu loved him very much

he didnt really mind it, but he started to try and call you by p/n and osa by dad

the first time tadashi called dazai "dad*, dazai probably cried inside ngl

"dad, can you come to my basketball game tomorrow?"

ofc he plays it off and just smiles at your son and goes "of course! what kind of dad wouldn't be at their son's basketball game?"

he hugged u for so long while tadashi was gone 😭😭

would definitely listen to every story tadashi had to tell

would to everything for your son, in general, whether it be learning to play a sport to play w him or teaching him math he never really learned or driving him to school or bringing him to play dates

he loves tadashi so much 😭 like that's the light of his life right there

probably a bit strict (?) just because he wants him to be safe

bcs of this, they probably get into arguments a lot and its just a while before one of them (or both of them at different times) come to you to tell their side of the story

but dazai is so gentle w his son and talks it out with him and in the morning they would get ice cream together just GAJFJFVJDJAJ

sigh. dazai w a son.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs dazai #bungou stray dogs chuuya #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #nakahara chuuya #dazai osamu #chuuya nakahara #osamu dazai #chuuya x reader #dazai x reader #dazai osamu headcanons #nakahara CHUUYA headcanons #chuuya headcanons #dazai headcanons #chuuya imagines #dazai imagines #dazai bsd #chuuya bsd #yatsugareboyfwrites

[oviids]

pls share some of your spn fic recs 🥺🥺

ok, a few things first:

followers and mutuals who do not have supernatural brainworms, kindly avert your eyes

i don’t normally rec or even read much fanfic any more but this is a CRISIS ok (cont.)

there is so. much. content for deancas out there and i have incredibly high standards, several ancient ao3 bookmarks, can speedread, and want to spare you guys the experience of wading through it all.

i also have a section for spn femslash since I was pretty into that back in the day (sadly a lot less fan content for this :/)

I don’t really like au’s or pure smut (I honestly usually just skim or skip those scenes) so if you’re mainly looking for that kind of thing this probably won’t be very helpful to you. jsyk.

i’m not great at describing stuff but i’ll do my best, i’ll also try and add tw’s when neccesary.

i wil try and keep updating this with any other decent fics i find, feel free to rec stuff too since i’m like 7 years behind.(edit 1/25/21) this is getting looooong so i’m going to start making another list on my spn blog rather than update this one

(edit 1/3/21) since this has gotten pretty long i’ve added rating/approximate word counts and marked my particular favorites with an asterisk.

Dean/Cas fic:

So Says The Sword*** - explicit/85k. FUCK its good...au/time travel where dean is not pulled out of hell by cas and says yes to becoming the michael sword. honestly could serve as an alternative to actually watching the show, if you want to get into dean/cas without actually doing that to yourself.

Fata morgana.*  - teen/6k, pst s9 finale. very bela centric and i love it, she finds cas looking for dean in hell.

Redemption Road -misc/600+k. an incredibly long fic from a collaborative writing group back in the day. canon divergent from the end of s6 on, has a cool take on godstiel and the leviathans, as well as the lovecratian mythos connection. ngl when i reread it i only made it about 28% in but imo the casual reader can actually stop around there, the rest concerns a lovecraftian apocalypse that is still good (i think i don’t remember it very well) but not required to enjoy the first half. if you prefer i have an ebook version i can send you on gdrive.

Someone Who's Feeling For Me* - mature/45k, s12. they run into lisa braeden and dean thinks cas is into her while cas thinks dean still likes her. treats lisa way better than the show ever did and the miscommunication is pretty funny rather than annoying.

a turn of the earth - mature/95k. time travel fic where cas from s10 keeps showing up in deans life from a few years before s1 to right before the hellhounds take his soul.  slow burn, good character study, and at one point cas punches the dad in the face and it rules.

On the Wings of War - teen/85k, canon divergent s5. dean accidentally becomes the Horseman of War. plays fun, fast and loose with biblical lore, michael has some rights.

Named - mature/95k, alternate s5. EXTREMELY blasphemous in a fun sexy way. manages to predict metatron almost to a T. there’s one major character death and its literally jesus christ, everyone is very sad about it and it sets the rest of the story rolling. an alternate interpretation of cas’ mission to raise dean from hell which had me on the floor. ngl its kind of misogynistic at points, but its from 2010 and tracks with late oughts-2010 spn (sorry anna the author did you dirty here:/).

The Girlfriend Experience - explicit/15k. uhhh i don’t normally rec or even read smutty stuff unless someone i know is specifically asking for it but this has stuff like sam trying to be a good ally and dean thinking holding hands with cas is ‘kinda gay :/’ minutes after having gay sex with him.

i crippled your heart a hundred times - explicit/19k, s8. cas confesses his feelings and dean spends a long time getting his head out of his ass about it. truly hits different after the actual confession, despite being written six years early it feels like its actually what could have gone down more or less if the writers weren’t talentless demons who hate us.

My Roots Take Flight** - mature/125k. reverse au where cas is a hunter and dean’s an angel...OR IS IT???? an alternate retelling of s4. tw for briefly being set in a psychiatric hospital/the hospital being mentioned somewhat frequently throughout the fic, plus more references to torture in hell and heaven than usual.

The One Thing You Can't Lose* - teen/4k.you know those posts about how cas is a super-strong super-tough ancient warrior but he just lets dean tug him around because he likes it? thats it thats the fic.

Hands, From Which All Things Are Built - teen/14k, post s8′s ‘goodbye stranger.’ cas is on the run with the angel tablet but keeps in touch with sam and dean by text, he and dean still manage to be terrible at Actual communication.

Autrement, Danger - or, The Account of an Exceedingly Long Day - mature/30k, post s11. a monster that takes the appearance of your soulmate leads to some wild miscommunications and dealing with years of repression, also dean gets to see cas’ true form which is always cool. tw for non-graphic mentions of underage sexual assault/sex work.

Down to Agincourt - mature/explicit/900++++k, endverse continuation. endverse!cas survives his encounter with lucifer and discovers another time-displaced dean from s7. i’ve only read the two of four parts but its really good, veeeeery slow burn, has a lot of fun oc’s and takes a rather surprising but (imo) entertaining and intriguing turn into Hellenic history and mythology. usual tw’s for endverse/endverse!cas but nothing graphic, it’s actually pretty light-hearted (relatively speaking of course).

Nothing Equals the Splendor** - explicit/8k, THEE finale fix it fic you’ve been waiting for! posits that the entire final episode was just a (very bad and lame) djinn’s vision.

like moses and batman and james dean - explicit/31k, post s8. explores dean’s trauma and internalized homophoba from his technically canon experience with sex work and its impact on his relationship with cas. the sex work itself isn’t really shown in any detail but it’s still a relatively heavy fic.

Crazy Diamonds - explicit/25k, s4/alternate s14. fresh-out-of-hell dean and dean from 10 years in the future are displaced from time and sent to each other’s present.

where the weeds take root - explicit/30k. au where the men of letters kick them out of the bunker and they accidentally move out into the country, get over their codependence and semi retire. featuring chicken coop building, sam volunteering at a dog shelter, gardening, and blissfully mundane domesticity.

No Resting Place - teen/6k. djinn dream fic, switches back and forth between cas’ dream of being married to dean and retired from hunting to the aftermath when he wakes up. tw for brief mention of suicide since, y’know, djinn dream.

any port in a storm - mature/52k. post s8 finale. cas and dean have to pose as a couple going through a rough patch for a case and actually deal with their emotional baggage, cas struggles with being human and metatron is up to stuff.

all this and heaven too* - explicit/7k. in the author’s own words ‘...a love letter to every trans person who ever projected onto Dean Winchester.’ absolutely unzipped me emotionally and theologically, its just. so good. tw for very brief mentions of internalized transphobia/dysphoria.

Because it is* - mature/6k, finale fix it. killing chuck does not bring back anyone back and the winchesters spend a very long time dealing with what they’ve lost, cas and dean SOMEHOW still manage to have signifigant communication issues even after the confession. tw for suicidal thoughts/brief attempt.

Vena Amoris and Other Old-Fashioned Bullshit* - teen/4k, s6. when cas fell for dean it automatically soulbonded/angel married them, shenanigans ensue when dean finds out during the angel’s civil war. funny and actually written back when s6 was airing so cas is still (or at least pretending to be) kind of an OP asshole which is fun.

Rinse, Repeat - teen/3k, s8. angsty character study of cas as he’s reprogrammed and trained to kill dean. not really dean/cas since its just cas’ pov of canon events but its beautifully written and ends with him snapping out of it through the power of love (also now a canon event!).

Emergence - explicit/59k, canon divergent after s11. dean meets a hunter he only recognizes as their friend claire novak’s missing father, but soon realizes he might be the answer behind the mysterious void in his memories and feelings (aka everyone’s memories of cas are completely wiped away for three years).

Cuckoo And Nest - explicit/10k, early established relationship/character study, cas tries to figure out how he fits into dean’s life and space in the bunker.

Build a Home* - teen/20k, canon divergent s12. sam and eileen are cute and turn the bunker into men of letters/hunters hq and everyone but cas moves in, mutual miscommunication issues and pining ensues.

Down in the River - teen/5k, early s8, cas prays to dean in purgatory while sam and dean try to figure out a way to get him out.

Teaching Poetry to Fish* - mature/52k, ?? BC through the entire series/canon divergent s14 and 15. retelling of crucial scenes throughout the shows timeline from cas’ pov, feat. actual fish and poetry.

the minor fall, the major lift - gen/4k, post confession/finale fixit. dean goes into the empty to save cas and runs into several old friends (and enemies).

With the Kisses of His Mouth* - teen/3k, gen later seasons. dean and cas keep kissing by accident.

Remaining Grace - explicit/109k, alternate s6. au where cas asks dean for help with raphael and dean, of course, does. tw for temporary major character death/semi-graphic depictions of alcohol withdrawal.

The face of heaven.* - teen/10k, au, dean is a regular guy and cas is a fallen star (think ‘stardust’, kinda).

Stories Are Made of Mistakes*  - teen/5k. newly human cas has trouble getting used to a human body and humanity in general, but still figures out that he and dean are A Thing before dean does.

Hurry Up And Wait - mature/21k, canon divergent s12. a fairyland and quite possibly LOTR related case comes up and dean goes full fanboy, mary is introduced to the wonders of the peter jackson adaptions, many references and comparisons (including between cas and dean’s ‘friendship’ and arwen/aragon). also charle is still alive and has just been doing fairy stuff this whole time.

There Are Many Things - explicit/28k, s9. cas is extremely lonely/touch-starved and trying to figure out this whole human thing, as well as where he and dean stand after being kicked out of the bunker.

It's A Long Life to Always Be Longing - teen/40k, post s11 finale. amara helps dean by putting him in a magical coma so he can finally get some much needed rest and show him possible futures for him, sam and cas. meanwhile sam and cas go on a roadtrip (or several) to find componets for a spell to wake dean up. really good sam and cas friendship, they actually talk about their shared lucifer trauma and stuff.

Non-Photo Blue - gen/2k, s4/5/alternate s5. fifty moments from cas’ memories of dean.

Tall Grass - explicit/57k, canon divergent post series. cas becomes the ultimate plant dad. feat the wayward sisters gang, cathartic character growth, fun oc’s, domesticity, and lots of actual botanical info-dumping.

on vessels - no rating/gen/2k. established dean/cas, cas tells dean about how he used to imagine what it would be like to have him as his vessel.

search for tomorrow on every shore* - teen/11k, post-finale (extremely derogatory). some angels in jack’s new heaven act out and dean gets temporarily resurrected in 2003 and runs into his younger self.

Architecture of the Minotaur’s Heart - explicit/45k, very canon divergent post s1. dean’s new house seems to have a life and mind of its own, while in his dreams he sees glimpses of a world and apocalypse that never came to be and an angel that looks strangely like his mysterious neighbor, cas. loosely inspired by the book house of leaves (which i highly recommend for fans of weird horror).

The Distance Of The Setting Sun - explicit/17k, post s5. established dean/cas relationship, team free will finally takes advantage of cas’ abilities to go on vacation around the world.

diamond star halo - teen/5k, s11. dean lets cas use him as a temporary vessel while he recovers from rowena’s spell, sam is a long-suffering third-wheel.

Make Known** - teen/16k, s6/7. dean struggles to understand how cas could have become his enemy and whether he ever truly knew him in the first place.

blunt little instrument* - mature/1.4k, post finale. dean finally confronts his father in heaven, very cathartic.

my heart a compass*** - teen/10k, post confession. the empty forces cas to re-experience his most regretted moments while dean tries to snap him out of it and bring him home.

A Crash Course in Someone Else's History - teen/11k, s6. cas from the very start of s4 is brought forward in time by s6!cas to distract the brothers from his and crowley’s plans.

The Cuckoo Father - mature/8k, s7 au. the woman who found cas in the river post-leviathans does not marry him bc he was sent to her by god or whatever, but actually identifies him as jimmy novak and sends him back to claire and amelia.

The Dead Dean Clause* - teen/5k, post alt s5 ending. team free will celebrates surviving taking down lucifer by getting blitzed, cas lies to a cop and gets an impromptu driving lesson. title/description sound dark i know but it’s actually very funny and light.

Suck It, Judy Garland - mature/20k, s12 (after the ‘i love you...i love all of you’ episode). cas and sam have to pretend to be a couple for a case and dean is NOT happy about it.

By Daylight and In Dream - teen/16k, s5. pre-dean/cas, dean invites cas to use his dreams to hide from the other angels. tw for very brief mention of a memory/dream of alastair sexually assaulting dean.

The Five People You Meet in Heaven - mature/22k, post-canon. an actually happy (if sometimes bittersweet) heaven endgame written several years ago, though some details are rather eerily similar to the show’s ending.

heaven is a place on earth* - teen/2k. dean’s pov of some of the times cas left him behind throughout the show, and one alternate ending where he finally gets to stay.

I Cleanse The Mirror - teen/20k, alternate s6. dean’s body is stolen by an ancient elemental and his soul has to hitch a ride in cas’ vessel.

an exploration of gender; angelic*** - mature/4k. *oscar isaac voice* lets get into angel gender politics!! aka cas is trans.

Zenith - explicit/33k, s9. after 9x06 an angry witch curses cas with the ability to see supernatural beings and human souls.

La cucina. - gen/3k, alt s9. dean goes wild helping a newly-human cas find out what kinds of food he likes, or the early s9 domesticity we deserved!

Dean Winchester, Cocksucker at Rest***** - teen/7k, post-finale. john and mary finally come over for dinner and john reacts to dean/cas in a rather predictable fashion. SOOOOOOOOO good omg, its so funny and a little sad and very very cathartic. part of a series that has a few other really good short fics.

The Way You Didn't Go - teen/5k, s15. coda to 15.09, dean has nightmares about the moc!cas timeline.

On Drowning - teen/28k. dean saves cas after he nearly drowns, they both try and deal with the physical/mental fallout (aka the fic where thee iconic “you only touch me when you think I’m dead or dying” originates). tw for realistic depictions of drowning/triage/misc medical information.

The Thirty-Six Questions That Lead to Love* - mature/13k. claire has dean and cas pretend to be her gay dads for a case and they play the titular 36 question game, get mistaken for swingers, and birdwatch, among other things.

Assorted F/F stuff:

Deep Breaths* - mary/ellen, au where mary said no to azazel’s deal and let john stay dead, still becomes a milf.

Like Rebel Diamonds - krissy/claire, they become hunter gf’s on the hunt for cas to kick his ass for taking jimmy. not-so-stealth dean/cas as well.

To Ash and Bone - anna/ruby, same author as the previous fic (p much all of her stuff is good from what i recall). au where ruby is a witch and helps anna when she’s cursed.

Holy Clockwork Angels - jo/ruby, STEAMPUNK au with very cool worldbuiilding.

At Day's End - jo/anna (my fucking KINGDOM for more jo/anna content, the dean/cas parallels are allllll there), au where they are both at the camp in the endverse and gfs.

these posts - ok so not actually a fic but i’m now obsessed with this hannah/meg dynamic.

Tagelied - mary/ellen, the true story of how ellen got into hunting before angels interfered.

Hell's Bells** - meg/abaddon, alternate s8/9 where meg survives crowley’s attack with sam’s help and teams up with abaddon (who she has a sk year old crush on) to take back hell.

The Ecstasy of the Rose - anna/ruby, anna travels back in time to escape heaven and becomes a signifigant part of ruby’s old human life.

Angel Underground - anna/jo, kind of an urban fantasy au with a very intriguing premise (sadly its very short, i’d love to see more if this ‘verse).

Clover, Flame - billie/mary, billie was always the reaper that showed up to take mary after her death(s) over the years.

Drag Me To Heaven - anna/ruby, a variant on the ‘last night on earth’ thing with dean.

Come Home* - jo/anna, canon-divergent au where anna is the new waitress at the roadhouse and helps jo set up a (probably not really) haunted house for halloween.

#if you told me i'd be doing this in 2020 three weeks ago i'd have laughed in your face :/ #deancas #supernatural #fic recs #spn femslash #destiel #fic #the alie tag #spn posting

[haikyuu-scenarios-drabbles]

Shower Friends (Miya Atsumu x F!reader)

The dorm you live in has co-ed bathrooms. Why that’s remotely a good idea is beyond you; and recently, your precious shower time is being interrupted by a certain blonde haired setter for the volleyball team. When he lies to his teammates that he has a girlfriend, somehow you get roped into his scheme.

genre(s): college!au, fake dating, angst, fluff, mutual pining, enemies to lovers (kinda), eventual smut (maybe)  words: 3.5k

a/n: ah the sweet sweet smell of mutual pining. also 3 more chapters are planned, not written yet though bc i just decided i’d be writing them lmao. hopefully can get started on that this weekend and post them next week 🤗

taglist:  @apollochjld @kurosarium @vicassa @carbs-need-more-love @underratedmage @idek-at-thispoint @wtfeverbrandi @food8me @yikes-buddy @ntimacy @nyxiie @oikawasbooty @chocolate3010 @sugawarabby @greenyiplier @kritiiiii @tokyosdawn @youstydiaa @h3llok1ttygirl 

one | two 

Chapter Three

“You want me to help you with what?” You ask, a bit stunned when he showed up at the door, a terribly annoying but also cute pleading expression on his face.

He groans, his shoulders hunching forward in exasperation. “Ya really gunna make me repeat it?”

You peer closer at the top of his head and see that he’s being serious. The roots of his hair growing in are a dark brown and it had never even occurred to you that he dyes his hair the blonde color you’re so used to. “No, but why do you need my help?”

This is so embarrassing. Normally his roommate or a teammate can help him but none of them are available today and he’s already let the roots grow longer than he likes. But when one of them suggested you help him out instead, something inside him rebelled. For some reason, the thought of having you dye his hair for him made him uncomfortable, like he’s showing you an intimate part of him. This hair has been a part of him so long he can’t remember the last time he’d let it grow out.

“I can’t see if I got everything,” he admits. It took a lot of pacing around his room and staring at his roots for him to get up the courage to come over here to ask you. He can’t really explain why he was so against it, especially since you don’t seem to mind after you got over the initial shock of realizing this isn’t his natural hair.

A wave of relief washes over him when you sigh, conceding, “Alright. Just let me change into something I can get bleach on. I’ll meet you at your dorm.”

While he waits for you, he busies himself with mixing the dye together so it’s ready for you, and when you arrive in a t-shirt and shorts with paint splatters all over them, he mentally kicks himself for thinking about how even wearing something so simple you still look better than anyone he’s ever seen. Crossing your arms, you motion for him to take a seat at his desk. Before he does so, he reaches behind his neck to grab at the collar of his shirt and pull it over his head.

You stand there dumbfounded for a moment, it taking you a second to process that he’s now standing before you shirtless and you’re free to ogle his muscular chest and arms to your hearts content. He doesn’t pay any attention to you, knowing if he meets your gaze, he won’t be able to stop the heat threatening to crawl up his neck. Instead, he wraps a towel around his waist to protect his shorts and sits in the chair to wait for you.  

Except now, you have free reign to stare at his back, which is just as defined as the front of him and you need a few more seconds to reel your thoughts back.

“Whaddya waitin’ for darling?” He drawls, throwing you a glance over his shoulder, not expecting you to be standing there frozen, eyes pinned to his now bare chest.

He opens his mouth to tease you further, but your eyes snap to his and you practically shout, “Do you have another towel?” He just cocks a brow and then points to his closet where another towel is hanging on a hook. Snatching it, you return to him and drape it over his shoulders, hiding most of his annoyingly toned body. “Don’t want to get any bleach on your skin,” you explain, no way in hell ever admitting to him that you’re finding it hard to focus with him on display like that.

Absentmindedly, he hands you one of the clips he bought a long time ago, one that’s almost completely bleached itself and you start running your fingers through his hair to section it. He closes his eyes, focusing intently on the soothing sensation of your fingers on his scalp, doing his best not to groan out loud at how good it feels. With anyone else, this isn’t anything special, normally he sits as patiently as he can whilst trying not to annoy whoever is doing his hair (lest they decide to ‘mess up’ as punishment). But with you, it’s a different feeling entirely.

It's jarringly intimate as you clip his hair back and reach over him to grab the plastic gloves that came with the dye. Lathering up the applicator brush, you start slathering it onto his hair, trying your hardest to make sure it’s evenly distributed and surrounding each strand. As you do so, you ask, “How long have you been doing this?”

He resists the urge to shrug, not wanting to jostle you, replying, “Osamu and I started in middle school.”

“Osamu dyes his hair too?”

“Yeah, he goes for gray. But I’d heard blondes have more fun so—here we are.”

He grits his teeth as your fingers skim over his scalp, glad for the towel you wrapped around him to hide the goosebumps skittering along his bare skin.

“Let me guess,” you muse. “You guys did it because people couldn’t tell you apart?”

“That,” he laughs, “And we thought it would look cool. The first time we did it, it looked like shit.”

Your answering laugh warms his heart as you unclip a section of hair and keep working. “I can’t imagine your mom being too happy about it.”

“Livid. We got bleach everywhere.”

You laugh, continuing to move through his hair methodically. It doesn’t take very long as you’re just dying his roots and they weren’t that bad to begin with, contrary to what Atsumu thinks. When you finish, he gives you a sheepish look and has to swallow his pride to ask you to help him wash it out. Every time he’s tried to do it himself, he always ends up leaving a huge chunk of bleach somewhere.

You oblige, following him to the bathroom, not bothering to care about the looks you get along the way. If they want to stare at a shirtless Atsumu and then glare at you for having that all to yourself, that’s their prerogative. It does wonders for your confidence, regardless that all of this is a ruse.

Luckily, the bathroom is empty and Atsumu dutifully bends over the sink to let you start washing the dye out of his hair. He’s immensely grateful his eyes are shut, and his face is shoved into the sink to hide his flushed cheeks as he thoroughly enjoys your fingers running through his hair. The sensation of your fingernails lightly scraping over his scalp makes him ball his fists as he has to bite his lip to keep from making any sounds.

You’re unbothered, until you notice the towel has slipped from his shoulders and with the way he’s bracing himself against the counter every muscle in his back and arms is on display for you to see. It’s an effort to continue your task as if nothing is wrong and force yourself to look off into the distance instead of eyeing him up.

It’s no easy feat. Especially when you finish and he rises, scrubbing at his face with the discarded towel before moving on to his hair. You press your lips into a firm line and let yourself indulge just a little bit looking at the way his muscles flex with the movement, droplets from his damp hair trailing down the planes of his chest towards the waistband of his shorts and—your attention is broken at the sound of him chuckling and you snap your gaze to his.

You find him staring at you with mischief sparkling in his eyes, so you speak before he can tease you. “Is that it?”

“We have to actually dye it now.”

“Oh.” You turn on your heels desperate to escape his gaze. “Let’s go then.” A smirk plays across his lips, but he refrains from teasing you, solely because he very much enjoyed the way you were looking at him and doesn’t want you to stop.

And yeah—sue him if he thinks about your hands in his hair for the rest of the day. In the end, he might be a little grateful no one else was available to help him.

When mid-semester break arrives, it comes as a surprise that you actually miss each other. What surprises you even further, is that he’s the one to bring it up. Within the first night, he video calls you, a sheepish expression on his face, explaining he needed someone to complain to.

“What do you mean?” You teased. “Sounds like you’re getting stuffed with good food from Osamu and you have plenty to brag about.” You winked, smiling devilishly at him and pointing to yourself. You’re only joking. Slightly. You aren’t sure what will come about if he tells his family about you, or if that’s even a good idea. It’d be much easier to break this off cleanly without the involvement of each other’s families.

He sighs, flopping down on his bed and scrubbing his face with one hand. “They’re just dyin’ to meet you now.”

Your brows lift, half-expecting him to have tried to keep this a secret. “You told them?”

“I wasn’t gunna,” he explains. “But apparently some college sports news channel caught um—,” he coughs awkwardly, remembering very vividly this day, yet the two of you haven’t acknowledged it since. “Our—uh—celebration.”

Eyes widening, you stare at him a moment before the both of you burst out laughing. Between your giggles you manage to say, “Oops.”

Laughing alongside you, he grins, despite the pang in his heart at the voice in his head desperately trying to remind him all of this isn’t real. You aren’t his girlfriend and the moment all of this ends, you probably won’t bat an eye at him ever again. He hates how much that hurts.

Forging onward towards his demise he discloses, “I am now a very proud owner of a very jealous brother now, so thank you.”

That only makes you keep grinning, setting a hand on your cheek and dramatically saying, “What? Of little ol’ me?”

He fights the urge to tell you that yes—jealous of little ol’ you. The girl who is slowly becoming the girl of his dreams. The beautiful, funny girl who deals with him and everything that comes with him. He swallows all that, keeping the mood and saying, “He refuses to let me try any of his onigiri. A crime, really.”

“Of the highest caliber,” you agree, stifling your laughter. “Though I’m sure you steal some when he isn’t looking.”

“Yeah, but he caught me and hit me on the head with his spoon.”

“How dare he. Lucky for me, my family is clueless.”

“What do they think yer doin’ right now then?”

Shrugging you say, “I told them I had a project to work on with a classmate. Which isn’t entirely a lie, I do have a project to work on. But someone interrupted.”

He smirks. “Wonder who that could be.”

“Beats me.” His responding grin does something to you that’s been happening a lot more frequently lately. Making you feel like all the air has been punched out of you and like your heart is going to beat out of your chest. Though, you’ve gotten quite good at hiding it.

In the distance, you hear someone calling his name. He panics, it’s bad enough his family knows about you now, but he isn’t sure if he’s ready for them to meet you. Especially Osamu, who he has the sinking feeling is already suspicious of this. It’ll be a miracle if he can slip this by him.

“Gotta go!” He says quickly, and before he ends the call, he hears you chuckle and say, “Beware the spoon.”

Every day his situation only gets worse.

The next night he can’t get Osamu off his back. Enough that when he tries to retreat to his bedroom to give you a call, pathetically missing you again, Osamu bursts in when he’s about two minutes into the video call with you. He tries to shove him out, embarrassed and afraid Osamu will see straight through him. But Osamu is stubborn, and he hears you laughing on the other end of the call before saying, “Aww, Atsumu won’t you at least let me try to charm the pants off him?”

He grits his teeth, the thought that he wants you to charm the pants off of him, not his brother flitting through his head before he can stop it. But he relents, letting Osamu sit backwards on his desk chair to join the conversation.

He isn’t sure how, but somehow you get Osamu to believe this is real in a matter of minutes. You have him laughing and talking about culinary school and he almost feels jealous that your attention is now on Osamu instead of him. It’s a ridiculous notion, he knows it, but it doesn’t stop him from keeping the camera on him as much as possible.

When the call ends, Osamu looks at him seriously, and for a moment Atsumu thinks he’s just been pretending to believe you this entire time. However, he breaks into a smile and smacks him on the back saying, “Got yerself a keeper, there.”

Atsumu tries to grin with as much sincerity as he can. Yeah—he knows he does. But that isn’t going to stop this from ending.

That night, both of you go to bed feeling like you’re getting in too deep.

And as per usual, when school starts back up again, neither of you bring it up. You’re happy to keep ignoring it, hating yourself for liking this arrangement and him more and more every day. It sad really, how much time in your day is spent thinking about him. Wondering if there’s any possibility that the two of you could just transition to a real relationship. Because to you, that’s already what this is. Nothing would change, but at least you’d stop feeling guilty every time you enjoy his hand in yours or the soft press of his lips to the top of your head.

A few days after returning to school, you find yourself alone with him in his dorm room studying. He’s sitting at his desk, hunched over a textbook while you lay on his bed, head propped up by an elbow. You can feel your eyes drooping, the words blurring together, it becoming harder and harder to stay awake. His bed is too comfortable and smells overwhelmingly like him, a scent you’ve come to enjoy every time you’re pressed up against him. A mixture of his body wash and the ever-present faint smell of the volleyball court. Eventually you’re powerless against the solace of sleep.

When Atsumu notices you, his heart jumps into his throat. You look so serene and peaceful, your chest rising and falling ever so slightly, part of him wants to crawl in beside you and press his face into your neck and fall asleep right along with you.

But he too has begun to feel like this game has gone too far. The moment he had to tell his family, lie to Osamu, he knew he’d crossed a line. It isn’t fair to you. No longer does he need to pretend for his teammates that he can have a serious relationship, there isn’t a reason to torture himself and keep you tied to him anymore.

Yet, thinking about not being without you, no longer eating lunch together, studying together, or having you in the stands at his games wrenches his heart in such a way he actually feels like it’s crumpling inside his chest. He hasn’t been able to admit it, but at some point along the way, he thinks he fell in love with you. And it just hurts too much to keep pretending. Especially when you’re only doing this for peace and quiet during your showers.

For you, he shouldn’t drag this on any longer.

So, a couple days later, you texted him telling him you were in the library and can join him anytime if he wants. A harmless text, one you’ve sent him many times since this whole thing started, but this one makes his heart sink. Knowing this is the opportunity he’s been waiting for to talk to you. He tries to not think about it, trying to let volleyball take over his thoughts, but it’s futile. All he can think about is saying those words to you, and how it’s quite possibly going to utterly destroy him.

But you take it well, as he expects, squashing the hope that you might feel something for him too.

That night in the library feels particularly lonely. There’s no quick-witted remark from the boy who carved himself a place in your life, no one there to make you laugh when you’re struggling with a problem. Instead, you’re met with nothing but the darkness and silence of the library. It’s almost too much to bear, and once the silence starts closing in on you—you force yourself to leave, refusing to let yourself wallow.

The next weeks are hard. He never imagined that he’d think that after all of this was over. He keeps showering in the mornings to avoid you and uphold the deal you two struck months ago. He ignores the empty hole in his chest when he eats lunch without you, or studies late alone. The most jarring thing is your absence at his games. He constantly finds himself searching the crowd for your face, before remembering you won’t be there. He misses that intense gaze he could always feel on his back, the one that kept him awake at night when he let his thoughts run wild.

He feels as though something has been ripped from his life, leaving nothing but a gaping hole behind that seems intent on devouring him whole.

The same can be said for you.

Who knew you’d ever miss his teasing remarks while you shower? Or miss how you could complain to him endlessly about classes and then have him comfort you in the warm solace of his arms? Even the little things like walking to class together, now that you do it alone, it feels like there’s something missing.

The two you go on like that, thinking of the other every night before sleeping, tossing and turning with the thought of what could have been.

And eventually, you reach the point where you’re over it. Over pining after him day after day, peering out your door to make sure he isn’t around, or taking detours just to avoid him in the hallways. You’re over it. Enough that you’re willing to swallow your pride and confess to him, even if he doesn’t feel the same way—maybe you can fucking move on then.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you stomp to his dorm room, his roommate opening the door; his eyes widening upon seeing you. Immediately, he grabs his keys saying into the room, “I forgot I need to go to the store Atsumu, see you later.”

He leaves no time for Atsumu to protest, out the door in a matter of moments, leaving you standing in the doorway. Atsumu is just sitting in his desk chair, looking dumfounded at you, having fully expected to never see you again.

The gears in his head grind to a halt as you say, “This is stupid.”

He gives you a bewildered look, unsure what exactly you mean by that.

You steel your courage and press on. “I like you. And you like me. I think. And all this pretending that we don’t is stupid.”

After a few moments, his lips curve into a smile, the mischievous one you used to hate but now feel relief seeing. He can’t help the joy building in his chest at your confession. How many sleepless nights thinking about this very moment did he endure?

“You said it,” he teases.

Despite giving him a look, you do nothing to stop the grin rising to your lips. “Well, it didn’t seem like you were going to.”

His smile only widens, and he motions you into the room. “Get yer butt over here already.”

You move on instinct, striding into the room and climbing into his lap, settling your legs on either side of his you wrap your arms around his neck. The overwhelming sense that yes—this is exactly where you want to be, washes over you. He smirks up at you, his large hands resting at your waist, waiting for your next move.

“I can’t believe I actually missed that stupid smirk,” you say, lowering your lips to his, fingers slipping into the short hair at the base of his neck.

His smile hasn’t faltered, muttering against your lips teasing, “Does this mean I can shower at night again?”

A laugh bubbles out of you, but he smothers it in another kiss and refuses to let go.

#miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu reader insert #miya atsumu #miya atsumu imagine #miya atsumu scenario #miya atsumu reader insert #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu

[poptod]

Make Me Your Queen (Ahkmenrah  x Reader)

Description: He’s never seen anything like you––nothing comes close to your royalty, your beauty, your power, and it draws him in deeper.

Notes: based off ‘make me your queen’ by declan mckenna. i wrote this story with a female reader in mind (bc like, hatshepsut but canaanite) but as always its gender neutral, no pronouns WC: 2.6k

+

"Now I want you two to stay quiet. Do you understand that? Under no circumstance should you speak without being spoken to," Merenkahre said under his breath, his voice low as he spoke to his two sons. Ahkmen nodded––Kahmuh did not, but he'd heard his fathers' words nonetheless.

"These are the Canaanites, right?" Kahmuh asked in a flat tone.

"Phoenicians," Ahkmen corrected.

"Same thing, but don't let them know I said that, okay?" His father said.

Before Ahkmen could even chuckle, his mother called the three of them into the throne room. He hurried past his brother to stand beside her, looking over the long, glorious hall adorned with pillars and vases towards the tall double doors. Shrouds of silk hung from the ceiling, clouding the paintings drawn so painstakingly on the ceiling.

The breath of fresh air in his chest left him the moment Kahmuh came up behind him, taking his spot closer to the throne.

"I was -"

"We go by rank, don't you remember?"

He curled his fingers into his palm but said nothing. Kahmuh loved to annoy him, and though he never benefitted from teasing him, he continued to do it. Now, however, was a bad time to give into the urge to retaliate––the doors would open anytime now, bringing with it streaming sunlight and foreign royalty.

For several years now Kemet had been embroiled in a conflict with Phoenicians. It was one begun by his father, who had hoped to control several of the bay cities for the trade links they provided to Mesopotamia. This part of his father's life had been kept secret from him––entirely on purpose––until they began to fight back. A treaty was established the moment Merenkahre realized his armies could be beat, and now here they were, waiting for the one who had stepped up to take control of Phoenicia. Ahkmen had yet to know their name. His mother had given him scant information, and his father was unwilling to tell.

Rustling from outside brought his attention back to the front, eyes training back onto the door as it began to crack open. It was a sight he'd seen before, the opening of those mystical doors––rarely at sunset, but today was lucky. Red light streamed into the room, clashing brightly with the gold built into the pillars and marble floor. The light fell saturated on his tan skin till he and his family practically glowed auburn.

A short train of people came through the doors, their shadows stretched against the red carpet before them. The hall fell silent at their entrance; all eyes locked onto the veiled figure in the middle drifting closer to the throne. His breath halted right up to the moment the train came to a stop before the Pharoah. It was then the soldiers surrounding the cloaked figure fell into a bow, revealing tall tresses of black and red silk, a veil lined in gold, and purple hair framing soft cheeks.

Ahk's mouth opened unwittingly, staring at you. Were you born like that? How was that possible? And you––you couldn't be much older than twenty. This was what his father had to find peace with? This was what they would've died to?

The stone look on your face matched his fathers' bitter politeness perfectly. Merenkahre's jaw set as he smiled, rising from his seat to greet you personally. He raised his hand to shake yours and you matched him, raising a hand adorned in golden rings and blood red nails, shaking his hand without a hint of the Pharaoh's kindness in your eye.

"I thank you for the invitation to your country," you said, your lips twitching upwards just slightly, just enough to look polite.

"I'm glad you took up our invitation. We have a feast prepared––I'm sure you and your men are tired from the journey," said the Pharaoh, gesturing towards the doorway opposite the entrance.

You glanced down at the bowed soldiers. As your eyes flickered upwards they landed upon the youngest Prince, leaving him petrified from the acid in your gaze.

"Yes," you said after a moment, turning back to the Pharaoh. "That would be kind of you."

Several of the palace guards took the lead of your group, leading you through the small hallway to the dining hall. The hall was placed near the court for convenience, but the decision left Ahkmen little time to ask his father anything, leaving him stumbling over which question was more important.

He pushed his way past his mother and brother, landing beside his father, who still had his teeth gritted tight.

"How old are they exactly?" He asked, but earned no response from the distant thoughts of Merenkahre. Clearly his father was a tad preoccupied––Ahkmen would, most likely, not be getting answers from him anytime soon.

Ahkmen stared at you throughout the whole dinner. Not once did you glance to see him––if you had, he probably wouldn't have been staring. At least not so hard. You're impressively hard to look away from, your smile curt and teasing, unearthly purple hair curled around a crown of spindly gold.

Over the course of the conversation, he learned several things, most namely the duration of your stay. No one had an exact count of days, but you and your soldiers would stay until a peace treaty was reached with the Pharaoh. Knowing his father's advisors, Ahkmen surmised you would be here for a while, a fact that brought a smile to his face. Even though you hadn't spared any more than a single glance at him, he found he didn't care as long as he could keep looking at you.

He wasn't invited, but he followed anyway when one of the priests led you to your room. You bid the priest good-night only when two of your soldiers entered the room with you, before turning to Ahkmen, a soft but blank expression on your face.

"You're one of the princes, aren't you?" You asked in the silence. His eyes widened at the unexpected question.

"Well, um – yes," he said, stammering over his words.

"How old are you?"

The question took him by surprise but he didn't hesitate to answer.

"Seventeen years."

You paused to take in his reply, apparently finding much to contemplate in his age.

"When I was your age, I was spending my time uniting my Kingdom and clawing us out of starvation," you said in a lofty tone, but before he could form a response, you continued. "I suggest you do something useful, like that, instead of staring at foreign dignitaries."

Oh.

"I – I'm sorry, I didn't –"

"No need to apologize. Just keep it in mind."

"But... then how old are you now?" He asked, nails digging into his palm. You held his eye so intently now that you were speaking to him.

"Eighteen," you said with a smile, promptly shutting the door in both Ahkmen and the priest's face.

The priest turned to Ahkmen, a single brow raised. An awkward silence stretched between them.

"Can you not tell my father about this?" Ahkmen finally asked.

"As long as I never have to watch you two converse again," he said.

"Deal."

+

Ever since you came he was enchanted by you––that much was obvious to see. His mother knew, as did his father (although reluctantly), and by his count you probably did as well. Fortunately enough for him, you didn't tease him about it. Instead you kept a polite distance from him––a decision he simply couldn't understand.

He's rarely allowed inside the court while something important is in session, but his father called him in, and he didn’t mind an excuse to be in the same room as you.

"Ahk, come here," the Pharaoh said, and he obeyed, standing by his father's side. "You and the princ-"

"King," you said sharply. It's a title you insisted on constantly, one that your soldiers willingly upheld despite the obvious contradiction. The Pharaoh pulled his lips into a thin line in clear irritation.

"You're around the same age, right?"

Ahkmen nodded.

"Why don't you show them around a little? I'm sure they'd like a break from all these meetings," Merenkahre suggested.

"I assure you I am perfectly fine," you said.

"Septy," one of your advisors leaned over to you, whispering in your ear. He couldn't quite make it out but the tension in your face fell. It was almost nice––you're always irritated around the Pharaoh and it showed.

"Very well," you said, and it looks like it took an enormous amount of pain to get the words out. "I will go with your... son."

Ahkmen practically beamed, making his way across the room to you before taking your hand, and leading you out of your seat. Before you could send any more of a scathing glare at Merenkahre, he guided you out of the room and into an empty hall.

The already-quiet voices of the court faded away as the distance grew greater, leaving the two of you in a common silence.

"He's not making your job easy, is he?" Ahkmen asked despite knowing the answer.

"Neither of us truly desire peace," you said bitterly. "Only to destroy the other. We'll both have to get over that if we're to reach any agreement."

"... I agree," he said, still caught up in staring at you.

The purple in your hair glinted in the streaming sunlight, the only color in the barren hallway lined with arches. Outside, the city sat in its' great bustle, ships lining up and down the Nile, markets flooding each section of Memphis. The sight is one he knew well, but you halted. In a flash he remembered you never came from a wealthy country––you had to build it. Unless you visited some other country, you had never seen a thriving city market.

His footsteps fell quiet when you stopped at one of the arches, eyes trained on the tiny subjects below. A lump grew in his throat the closer he stepped to you.

"How does commerce within the city work for you?" You asked.

Truthfully, Ahkmen had little clue on how the government worked. Only the tidbits he'd picked up from his father. Kahmuh was the one becoming Pharaoh––that was why he was in classes and Ahkmen was allowed free roam.

"We use a fair amount of trade," he began, though had little idea on how else to continue. "We, um... we use grain as a form of currency."

"How much in just one unit?"

He sucked in a sharp breath, biting into his lower lip as he tried to recall. Most times he went out to buy things, they priced far above a single bag, as his tastes were heavily influenced by his palace life.

"It's fine," you said curtly, stopping him in his plight. A small, relieved sigh left him.

"You must know quite a lot about your own government," Ahkmen said in a soft voice. You didn't move from your position, didn't tear your eyes from the market, but the edge of your lip quirked up just slightly.

"I should hope so," you said with a growing smile, "I built it, after all. Or... some of it. I must admit I was aided greatly by my advisors."

Ahkmen chuckled, following you when you left your spot at the arch. He took a quiet lead of the path forwards, discreetly guiding you outside the palace, where the sun shone freely on his skin. The warmth of it gave him good reason to wear few clothes. You, on the other hand, were still adorned in your black and red silk.

"I'm curious," Ahkmen said, keeping a keen eye on you, "how did you come to rule the Phoenicians? Were you royal to begin with?"

"Yes," you said with a sage nod. "My parents were descended from our Gods. When I took control, it was a crucial part of me––it was the only way I could unite the entirety of our cities."

"That's fascinating. So you control the entirety of that coast, now?"

"The cities are independent from me, but for the most part, yes. Now; I would love to discuss such matters with you, but I was promised a break from the politics," you said, and Ahkmen quickly remembered his manners.

"Of course, yes. Sorry. I know a few places you might like," he said with a smile, earning a small one in return as he led you down the sunlit street.

The more free-roaming children that passed by, the more relaxed you grew, eyes dancing at every market stall and homefront. Ahkmen had never known anything but this––to see a King who knew none of it at all was rattling to say the least. Even you, in all your majesty, found the same happiness in others that Ahkmen found in his people. The citizens seemed to like you as well, though he would've been surprised if they didn't. It wasn't every day they got to see someone with purple hair.

"I have a question," he said as the two of you passed by a murmuring crowd. "I, uh, hope this isn't rude, but how is your hair that color?"

"Dyed, actually," you answered, staring forward at the approaching Nile. "Half our trade is made up of this dye. We are great craftsmen and traders, but only recently have we been able to show that to the rest of the world."

"Why's that?"

"Well, before I came, we had no way of travelling to other cultures. I managed to befriend a great architect by the name of Batnoam. You've seen him––he stands beside me in court, but... he built these ships of curved hulls and long sails, allowed for us to hold power over your Pharaoh," you said, your accent becoming more pronounced as your hands moved thoughtlessly to the words. "Once we gained that we gained allies and established trade routes that, I believe, turned the war against you. No offense intended."

"None taken. I know my father can be.. difficult," Ahkmen said. He jumped when you belted out a laugh, raising your chin to the sky.

"I know firsthand your father's military tactics. But there are things he wants from me, things that he realizes he can't take by force."

"Such as..?"

"Look at me," you said, and as he stopped before you, he noticed the sudden quiet of the world around you. You'd made it to the Nile, and walked down far enough to escape the bustle. "Do you see my beauty?"

He nodded.

"Can you feel the power I have?"

He nodded again, too absorbed in your dulcet tone to notice the meaning of your words.

"I have made myself like this, but Merenkahre doesn't know that. He believes my power comes from my riches, from the items my people trade with those around us, and he wants that power. I don't blame him."

"You are so beautiful," he blurted out, eyes still wide as he stared at you.

"I know, dearest. You can close your mouth. I have no need for a prince, and I'm not looking for a Queen."

A soft, dreamy sigh left him as you turned, your attention shifting to the slow waters of the river. He just smiled––his heart burned warm in his chest, leaving tingling in his limbs each time they moved.

I can be your Queen, he thought without much logic behind his words besides the adoration he held for you. You took the title of King when you rose to power; there was no need for a Phoenician King, but they could do––you could do––with a queen such as himself. At least, that's what he liked to think. That's what made his heart giddy.

"Do you come down here often?"

"As much as I can," he answered. You smiled imperceptibly.

"I've always enjoyed the water," you murmured, staring at your reflection. In a split second you seemed to return to yourself, looking up to Ahkmen. "I grew up on the coast."

"I'm happy to take you down here anytime you need a break from the pressure," Ahkmen offered, his heart skipping at the thought of this happening more often. You contemplated his words for a moment before answering.

"I would like that."

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek #rami malek character #ahkmenrah x male reader #ahkmenrah x female reader

[2018shawn]

the anatomy of you and i | s.m

Hi I was wondering if could do prompt cozy 3 and 12 with Shawn and inexperienced!y/n she’s never shared a bed with a boy before or something only if ur comfortable u don’t have to of course just thought it would be soft and sweet 🙈❤️

cozy prompt 3: “Don’t be nervous, you can come closer”

cozy prompt 12: We could... take a nap together?

a/n: so it came out like college!shawn x college!reader au bc that’s just kinda what flowed so i hope that’s ok and i also really kinda wanna do a part 2 to this because it turned out more of a fic than a blurb lmao 🥺👉🏽👈🏽 also pt 2 i’m sorry the layout of this is gross i’m on my phone and can’t figure out how to do anything ok bye

warnings: just swearing and i think that might be it

the music from the room next to yours was something you imagined only happened in movies. it was loud and bassy and everything you didn’t want on a wednesday evening; you knew part of living in dorms would entail disturbances and inconveniences, but a party? on a wednesday night? you picked up your tote bag full of reading and text books after throwing your trusty vans jumper over your head, all ready and prepared to head down to the 24/7 library on campus. 

if you thought the music was loud in your room, you could think again, because in the hallway, not only could you hear the echos from the speakers, you could hear the shrill screams and yells from the party goers. the further away you got from your neighbouring apartment, the (thankfully) quieter it got and your short trip to the library was soon complete, the dull street lamps and soft breeze in the trees accompanying you along the way.

just as you thought, the library was empty, nothing but the sound of the door clicking shut behind you filling the room. a relieved sigh left your lips as you tugged your bag close to your body, as if the room was full of robbers who were about to mug you for your oh so precious books. opting for a more relaxed approach, seeing as it was 10.45pm, you headed to the sofa area, half thinking it would be a great place to take a nap.

instead, the anatomy of the heart was more important and your assignment was due in within a matter of days. you grabbed one handle of your bag, stretching it away from your body so you could pull out your book of choice before coming around to the front of the sofas so you could finally relax and take your time and- oh. you weren’t the only one here.

even though he was sprawled across the sofa, you could tell he was tall, really tall. the cap, embroidered with the college logo, covered his hair, but from the few stray strands, you could see wild, chocolatly curls falling loose. his eyes were shut, almost peacefully, arms crossed across his chest and very, very quietly, you could hear the soft sound of music coming from his headphones. his eyes flickered open, feeling a presence above him, and he laughed at you when you freaked out, realising you were staring at him. creepy or not, he thought you were cute; the way your finger twirled the front sections of your hair, the way your hip popped to the side as you watched over his resting frame, the way your eyes pulled into a squint as if it was the most bizzare thing to see another person in the library. the very public library.

you muttered a very embarrassed i’m sorry, before turning to walk away from the chilled area of the building. he pulled out his headphones, the sound of the 1975 becoming much more prominent, and propped himself up on his forearms. “hey, no...” he spoke, “come sit.”

scoffing, you rolled your eyes as you thought to yourself, as if you was going to let a random (but incredibly handsome) boy tell you what to do. as if you was going to actually listen and do as he said. as if- who are we kidding; your feet brought you back to the sofas, perching awkwardly on the end of the seat opposite his. he smiled, not smugly, not suggestively, not even cockily, but just a pure, genuine smile. “sorry i didn’t realise people actually like...”

“used the library?” you raised an eyebrow and he threw his head back in laughter, forearms still supporting his body which only made his t shirt strain against his chest. you recognised him from around campus, and you thought he was one of the music kids, one of the ones that did open mic nights and played guitar on the beach until 1am, but from the judgment of his toned physice, you thought maybe he played a spot of sport on the side, just for fun. not like the serious jocks who lived, breathed and worshiped football. he was definitely friends with your roommates boyfriend too, or friends with one of his friends, or- something like that, there’s a lot of people at college.

“yeah, well, no. but at this hour? why don’t you just read in bed?”

you sank back into the cushions, bringing up your legs and crossing them infront of you, looking like a little buddha wearing a vans hoodie and comfy leggings. “why don’t you just lay down in bed?”

this time, when he smiled, he smirked. “touché.”

he popped his headphone back in his ear, and the music died down again as he let his head fall back to the sofa, eyes closing shut. you wondered what had happened to bring him here, why the somewhat popular boy was cooped up in the library at this hour with clearly no intent of using the facilities. he thought the same about you. you felt awkward at first, pulling out your reading and note books, turning to the pages you had marked and setting them down around you. unbeknown to you, he cocked his head to the side slightly, eyes opening into thin slits as he watched you. he’d seen you around, even told one of your friends that he thought you were cute, but you were from different stretches of the college and really, he was nothing but the friend of a friend of a friend of a friend. he wanted to tuck the fallen piece of hair behind your ear and help you lean onto him as he noticed how you struggled to manage holding two books at once and tell you not to grind your pen in between your teeth as you thought about your work and- “can i help you?”

busted.

“sorry, i just... what you reading?” he asked, even though he could quite clearly see the front cover of the book, which read a bold title of the essentials of human anatomy and physiology. and even though you held the front cover up further, showing him more of what he could already see, you confirmed it with words.

“i got an assignment on the heart, so, yeah...” you shrugged, peeling off a post it note marker and sticking it to a relevant paragraph in the book.

“can i see?” he didn’t know why he was asking, he just knew he wanted to be closer to you. he genuinely was interested in what you were learning, and although you’d only spoken a handful of words to each other, he thought the way you spoke and tone of voice was the nicest he’d ever heard. nicer than any voices he’d heard during his classes and he studies with people who sing all day. he pushed himself up, body resting into the corner of the sofa, leaving an empty space on the pad next to him. you took that as an invitiation, not entirely sure where your sudden confidence and welcoming of strangers had come from. “what are you studying?”

“human evolutionary biology and biological science.” it rolled from off your tongue like you said it every living minute as you rested down on the sofa next to him. “you?” even though you were 95% sure you already knew, you didn’t want to let on.

his answer was much simpler, and in all honesty, he felt like a fool. “music.”

“that sounds fun.” you nodded with a smile. he reached over for your book, fingers running down the edges as he looked over the words which looked like a completely different language. your body was tense, and the closer he got, the more you could feel your heart beating, which just felt highly ironic.

“these words...” he laughed, mentally kicking himself for sounding like a dumbass who literally just knew how to strum a few chords. “chor... da? tend.. in.. ee?” you giggled innocently at his attempt, but he found it in no was patronising or belittling. in fact, he thought it was cute.

“chordae tendineae.” you confirmed, looking up and directly into his eyes for the first time. you were instantly lost in the hazel pools that looks slightly lighter when certain flashes of light fell across his skin. “heart strings, to you and i.”

you went on to explain that heart strings were in fact not just an expression that people used when they felt some sort of emotion, that you could actually physically hold a heart by their - chordae tendineae - strings and they wouldn’t break because they’re so tough. you told him it would take a lot of strength and pain to actually break one. he admired how passionate you were about the subject, reeling off facts as if you could tell them in your sleep. “sorry, i get carried away.”

your cheeks blushed a deep shade of pink and you did that hair, twirly thing you did when you felt nervous. “don’t apologise, it’s nice.” he restored your faith that not all pretty boys were assholes, and maybe it was just your poor judgment in the past that had led you to ever think that. as you stared down at your book, he stared at you, wondering if he was being overly friendly or super creepy or just a total inconvenience to your evening. you thought he was neither of those, but simply a nice addition.

“so, what brings you here at...” you looked at your watch for time reference, eyes widening as you realised you been sat boring him for the past 20 minutes... about heart strings. “11.30 on a wednesday night.”

he shrugged, leaning back and falling into the cushions, hoping a more relaxed body language would help you to relax a little more too. he could tell you were just perched on the edge of the sofa for fear of touching him. “sick of my room mate fucking his girlfriend like a porn star, dont know how he’s got it in him.” your lips formed an open ‘o’ shape, not expecting the sudden change in tone or language. “told him i was going out, he said he’ll be done by 11.30.”

“and they said chivalry is dead.” you dryly commented, only to make his eyes crinkle up as he laughed. “do you have a rota for that kinda thing or is it just a come and go as you please kinda rotation?”

“well, my rota’s severely empty.” you were shocked, and thought maybe he was just saying it because he might be a total fuck boy. you could imagine he had girls falling at his feet, and you wouldn’t blame them, because those eyes. “what about you?” you furrowed your eyebrows at him and tilted your head. “no... i mean... the why are you here part... not the sex rota part...” he pulled his cap further over his forehead, wanting to bury himself in a pit of embarrassment. if you didn’t think he was a creep before, you most probably did now, he was sure of that.

to say you were, inexperienced, would be total honesty. you’d slept with one guy and one guy only, and he was someone who thought having sex on the foot of the bed was adventurous, and you vowed never to distract yourself from your studies with boys who would waste your time. it was also just a couple of hook ups, nothing serious, in fact, you’d never even shared a bed with him overnight- and you laughed at yourself for ever being the naive girl that thought he wasn’t just using you to get laid. “there’s a party next door, they usually go on until the early hours, so whether i’m here or there, i still get no sleep.” you confirmed, and he nodded, half wishing you were going to tell him your rota was also empty. not because he wanted to pounce on you and take advantage, but because the hopeless romantic inside of him thought maybe there’d be a pathway to something special. “also, it’s 11.30, so your probably safe to head back.”

he thought maybe he was an inconvenience to your evening, that you said that because you wanted him to leave you in peace so you could crack on with what you’d set out to do. shoot your shot, shawn, he thought to himself, pulling his bottom lip inbetween his teeth and you had to force your eyes away from him because you suddenly felt all warm and bothered. “you wanna come?”

“huh?” your head snapped up, book also falling from your grip and you fumbled to stop it from landing on the floor. it was an expensive book, and you weren’t about to let some cute ass boy ruin your pages.

“not like... i mean... if you want somewhere to stay. i can take the sofa.” in the 8 months you’d been at this college, not one boy had offered you an invitation back to his dorm. mainly because you hid from any form of human contact and spent most of your time cooped up in your own room with no intention of leaving.

something in you switched, when you looked back to him to see he’d taken his cap and flipped it backwards, the peak of the hat now dipping behind the back of his neck. more light hit his features, and you felt like jelly, realising just how incredibly perfect he was. even the little scar on his cheek was kissable and you don’t know where this new confident you had appeared from this evening. you leant closer, placing your book down - carefully, of course - on the sofa, letting your hands rest on his thighs and you thought you felt him tense up, but you were probably just imagining it. “only if we can stop for hot chocolate.”

“i think we have some.”

“whipped cream?”

“is that for the hot chocolate or for me?”

although he was joking, he didn’t know if what he had said had sent a wrong message, because on the walk back to his dorm, you went back to being your quiet little self, answering questions briefly and turning the questions around onto him more often than not.

you didn’t think he had sent a wrong message, but you were well and truely helpless at flirting and maybe he wasn’t even flirting with you and you was completely overthinking it, but nevertheless, it made your stomach tighten and breaths deepen. whether it was an accident or not, your hands brushed against each other’s several times on the walk back, and it was one of those cliche, awkward moments where you both look at each other and laugh awkwardly like little kids. both of you also introduced yourself, coming to the realisation that no names had been exchanged but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t already know yours because he definitely searched for you came across you on facebook. “are you sure you’re okay? i can stay with you in the library if you prefer?” he asked, although you were both nearly at his door.

“you think i’m walking all the way back over there? nuh-uh, plus, you promised hot chocolate.” he smiled and nodded, “unless... you don’t want me, and then i totally can leave you alone.”

“no i do want you.” he spoke so quick he thought he must’ve sounded so desperate. “do want you to be here, i mean, like, if you’re cool.”

you nodded, feeling somewhat... wanted? by a cute boy? who treat you like a lady and offered you his jacket even though you had your own? who literally peeled your bag from your shoulder, just so he could carry it for you? and made you walk the side of the sidewalk furthest away from the road? and took a genuine instrest in what you said?

you’d be damned if you didn’t wake up and it was all a dream. this was by far the most college-ey thing you’d ever done; meeting a random guy in a random location and deciding to risk your life by going back to his place. maybe risking your life was a bit dramatic but we’ve all seen what happens in horror movies.

when you both reached his door, he unlocked it with the key and swung it open, holding out his arm as invitation for you to go first. of course, you thought, just be even more of a gent. inside the room, it was very similar layout to yours - you walked straight into the living/kitchen area and three doors were spread across the two back walls, one of which you guessed to be the bathroom and the other two to be bedrooms. the room was dull, the television being the only thing to illuminate the area and shawn sighed with relief when he saw his roommate and his girlfriend chilled on the sofa. “well, looks like we’re safe from the porn.” he whispered to you, throwing his keys on the table next to the door.

when his roommate’s girlfriend heard shawn speaking, she shot up and peered over the back of the sofa. her eyes flickered between you and shawn, before she poked at her boyfriends arm to get his attention. “brian...” he ignored her at first, popping another piece of popcorn in his mouth. “brian. shawn has a girl here.”

“girl can hear you. and so can shawn.” shawn said, rolling his eyes as brian also shot up, smirking as the four of you all entered a staring competition.

was it such a big thing he had a girl here? because you didn’t think it would be so much of a huge deal. have you seen him? perfect college boy with incredible muscles (from what you’d seen in your imaginatation), and here you were, stunning the members of the household into silence. “hi, uh, i’m y/n?” you almost sounded like you were questioning yourself, unsure whether you were meant to say anything or not.

the girl got up from the sofa, offering you some popcorn as a peace offering before she finally spoke to you, instead of about you. “so sorry, shawn just, never brings girls here because - ow!” shawn lightly jabbed her on the arm, taking the full bag of popcorn for himself and grabbing a handful. “it’s nice to meet you, i’m winnie. and brian...” she pointed at the boy still sat on the sofa who was too busy sending brain signals and eye expressions, about the random girl in their apartment, to shawn to notice he was being introduced. “brian was actually just talking about getting a mcdonald’s so, we can go do that and you can do... your thing.”

“nothing like that,” shawn was quick to jump in and although you weren’t necessarily here for a quick fuck or a one night stand, you felt slightly disappointed.

“oh? okay, well, let us know.” she smiled and snatched her popcorn back from shawn. “i know shawn doesn’t take long.” she laughed, clearly joking about the situation which only made shawn feel like he was dealing with bringing a girl home to his parents for the first time. before thinking about it, shawn grabbed your hand and dragged you towards one of the back rooms, presumably his bedroom.

you figured it must be when the door opened and you saw three guitars perched against the wall, an unmade bed, a laptop open on the desk and a bunch of photos on the wall of him with numerous other people. “make yourself comfortable, i’ll be back in a second.” he smiled and vanished back out of the room.

taking the time to be a bit nosy, you let’s yourself study the photos on the wall. a shorter, younger girl appeared in a fair few, along with two older adults who would appear to be his family and it made you smile at the fact he wasn’t afraid to have them on display. you felt a light twinge in your heart as you looked at a picture in which a girl was kissing his cheek, even though you had no right to feel any form of jealousy. moving on, you found the notebooks on his desk that was already opened up on a page which sent your notebook organisation through the roof. the page was full of messy scribbles, more than half of the words had been crossed out aggressively and replaced with new words. it was quiet, only the sound of quiet mutters could be heard from the other side of the door and you tried you’re best to listen in to what they were saying.

dude, she’s hot

you’ve never made any other chick hot chocolate

go back in that room and get some

at least try

you tried to look like you weren’t eavesdropping when he came back into the room, holding two mugs of hot chocolate, and just as you’d requested, with whipped cream. shawn thanked brian and winnie and their weird ass sex kinks for that. “thank you.” you smiled, taking it from him and wrapping your small hands around the mug to be met with warmth.

“i’m, uh, sorry about them..” he said, setting his own drink down on the bedside table.

“don’t be. they seem nice.”

“so, if you wanna go to sleep i can leave you be and like i said, i can take the couch and you can have the bed.”

“we could both have the bed?” you’d said, before even having time to think about letting the words fall from your mouth. his eyes almost looked like they’d lit up and you blew into your hot chocolate just so you had something to do instead of awkwardly staring back at him. “if you want, i mean, i can go home, i’m sure the party will die down soon.”

“stop doing that.” he rolled his eyes, leaning back against his headboard as you sat cross legged at the edge of his bed, surrounded by the navy duvet.

“doing what?”

“doubting yourself.”

“well i’m good at it.” he laughed at you, reaching his hands out and taking your hot chocolate mug from your grasp.

“i wanna know more about that heart shit.” he admitted, missing how you passionately spoke about something you were so interested in.

“heart shit... you mean the thing that keeps you alive? maybe tomorrow, i’m all organed out.” he looked a little disappointed and you thought maybe he was thinking you’re suggesting you don’t wanna stay up with him. he was wrong. “although, modern family is back on netflix now and that is something i will never turn down.”

he grabbed his laptop from his desk, setting it next to you at the edge of the bed. you adjusted yourself, moving more to the middle of the mattress, therefore, slightly closer to shawn. you could smell his cologne, just like you could when you sat close to him in the library.

smiling at how you twirled your hair, bit your lip when you concentrated on what people were saying, covered your mouth with the sleeve of your sweater when you started to yawn, he thought; it was weird, how he just had this feeling that he wanted to spend countless nights with you, learning about whatever organ you needed to. and you thought too; how you felt more comfortable around him than any other person you’d met at college thus far.

still sat upright, cross legged in the middle of his bed, your back started to ache and legs started to feel numb as the second episode started. you stretched out as much as you could before looking behind you and eyeing up the empty space next to shawn. “i was wondering how long before you couldn’t sit like a buddha anymore.” he laughed, speaking over the familiar theme tune coming from the laptop. “please get comfy, you look in pain.”

“i am not in pain, i am simply just... respecting personal space.” in all honesty, you couldn’t remember the last time you cuddled up to a boy. the last guy used to literally leave as soon as he’d done what he needed to do, leaving you empty and alone every night. “and you might not want me, all up in your space.”

“oh my god, just stop!” he laughed, despite his demanding tone.

“stop what?!”

“doubting yourself... again!”

you huffed, uncrossing your legs and crawling up to where shawn was sat. he smirked as you got closer, settling down next to him, your back also against the headboard. your legs were outstretched, finally free from their crossed positioning, and your hands fell to your lap. another ten minutes of the episode went by when you get yourself getting tireder, head leaning to one side a little more.

shawn noticed how your body was a little more relaxed, less rigid than when you first joined him at the head of the bed. risking his move, he stretched his arm behind you, draping it over your shoulder which caused any relaxed part of your body to stiffen back up. “don’t be nervous, you can come closer.”

you looked up to him, shooting him a warm smile. it didn’t take long for your body to relax again, and it actually felt nice how natural it felt to be curled into his body. his fingers traced patterns on your shoulder as your head moved in time with his chest, a loud yawn escaping your mouth. “tired?”

“mhmm,” you answered, evidently too tired to even speak an official word.

“we could... take a nap together?” he stuttered.

“a nap? shawn it’s like 12.30am, we need a full ass sleep.” you giggled, leaning up off him to pull your sweater over your head.

“then a full ass sleep we shall have.” he sorted the set up out, turning off the laptop and placing it back on the desk. he took out a t shirt and shorts from his drawers, putting them on the edge of the bed before retrieving and additional pair of shorts. he told you he was going to change in the bathroom, and to put his clothes on, only if you wanted, before disappearing out. you took advantage of the empty room, immediately peeling off your own clothes and replacing them with his. they smelt like him, like citrus and cassis and as you climbed back into the bed, where you were previously sat, a light tap on the door sounded.

“yup,” you said, popping the last letter as he shot his head around the door, smiling when he saw you’d taken up his offer of borrowing his clothes. he says borrow, but he’d be more than happy for you to keep them, because you looked a hell of a lot better in them than he did.

he’d lost his t shirt, not that you were going to complain - and yes, he did have muscles exactly how you’d imagined him to - and the sweat shorts he’d changed into hung low from his hips and you’re pretty sure you’ve never seen a sight like it. shawn wasn’t the type of boy to feel embarrassed or nervous; hell, he’d managed to shit talk his way into getting you to come back to his dorm, just in a bid to keep hold of your company because he’s never felt a feeling like it. shawn’s clothes were the first you’d ever borrowed from a guy, never having the experience of the morning after or spending a long night with someone you really like, staying up all night and talking about nothing in particular. it was also a first that you’d let yourself be conned into coming back to a guys dorm.

“you sure you don’t want me to take the sofa?” he asked as he stood at the side of his bed, unintentionally towering over you, almost making you feel as big as ladybug.

“stop doing that.” you raised your eyebrows, pushing back the duvet so there was an empty space next to you.

his face showed pure confusion, having no idea what he’d done. “doing what?”

“doubting yourself.” you mocked his voice the best you could, dropping a few pitches and moving your head theatrically.

he rolled his eyes, plopping down into the empty space next to you, and although his clothes smelt like him on your body, he could still smell the orchid and vanilla scent that covered your skin. “i don’t sound like that.”

rolling onto his side, he turned to face you, slightly closer for comfort than he would normally like to be, but with you, he didn’t think he was close enough. you were on your back, eyes tracing the outline of the shadows on the ceiling that crept through from the blinds. “you kinda do.”

“oh... as opposed to, the deoxygenated blood travels into the left ventricle-” he’d put on his best higher pitched voice.

“right atrium.”

“-and opens those little valvey things-”

“just valves is fine.” you rolled onto your side to face him, but he was too busy mocking you to notice.

“-which make your heart do the ba-dum thing that i’ve been able to feel in my fucking throat all night-”

“you mean the heartbeat?”

“-all because you’ve been pulling on my chordane tendineae because you’re just too fucking amazing.” you swolled hard, and suddenly it was you who could feel the ba-dum thing in your throat. he was just looking at you, now aware you were face to face with him, only inches apart in his queen sized bed. he had just tried to twist your words in a confession of admiration, but couldn’t help but think he’d just sounded dumb instead. “no smart ass comment?”

normally you’d be offended at someone calling your comments smart ass, because they were in fact just the truth, but you knew shawn was messing, although, maybe not about the heartbeat part. you’d found yourself being drawn in, faces getting closer together with each breath, so much so you almost didn’t notice how his hand was stroking over the skin of your hip. he was searching your face for an invitation, he wanted to kiss you so bad, but at the same time, didn’t want to scare you off. the air was thick, and you were sure you could hear your heartbeat, but shawn was convinced it was his. his breath fanned against your lips, creating a cool minty sensation, and as your eyashes fluttered, your eyes looked straight into his. “kiss me.”

shawn taglist: @imaginashawnns @fallinallincurls @mendesficsxbombay @fallinfortom

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes smut

[just-my-sickly-pride]

Come On So Heavy || Joe Mazzello x fem!Reader

summary || you like your friend joe. you really like your friend joe. but you don’t know if he likes you back. maybe all it takes to find out the truth is a little (a lot) of liquid courage.

rating || explicit (18+ only). do not read if you are under eighteen. semi-public sex, unprotected sex, sex while under the influence of alcohol

word count || 3.8k

author’s notes || i stumbled across this half-finished fic while looking for something else, and decided to finish it off and post it! hope everyone is doing all right with social isolation. the title is from ‘get down, make love’, bc of course it is. this fic is... she’s a real messy one. i usually don’t write or post unprotected sex, but both people in this fic are very drunk. enjoy their shenanigans, but please don’t use this as guidance as to what safe sex is lmao. also this gif just too good not to use for a drunk joe fic sdfjsdflkdfsa

masterlist

     You raise your hand, and rap your knuckles on the door. You can hear the sounds of a pregame coming from inside, and, in a few seconds, the door in wrenched open.

    It’s Joe, unexpectedly - this isn’t his house - and your heart leaps so dramatically in your ribcage that it feels like it almost jumps out of your body entirely. “[Y/N]!” he crows, throwing his hands into the air, and you immediately know that he’s already had quite a bit to drink.

    “Hey, Joe,” you say with a grin.

    “Come in, c’mon.” He takes you by the wrist and tows you inside, and you have to kick the door closed behind you, because he just keeps on dragging you until you’re in the living room. “Look who it is, everybody!”

    You wave hello to your group of friends, and everyone greets you enthusiastically. The room is scattered with empty bottles and cans, and there’s a half-finished bowl of chips on the coffee table.

    “Can I get you a drink?” Joe asks, and he’s standing closer than he normally would, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol, and you suddenly forget how to speak.

    “Um– uh, y– yeah– no, actually, I brought my own. But thank you.”

    “Okay,” Joe says with a chuckle. He shoves a hand into his pocket, cradling his beer close to his chest. “You look, um– I like your…” He gestures vaguely to you with his beer.

    You giggle, and you kind of hate yourself for giggling. “My…?”

    “Your, like, everything,” Joe says with a grin.

    Oh, God, the butterflies. The butterflies in your stomach. They’re unbearable.

    “Thank you,” you say. Play it cool, play it off as a joke, don’t make it weird. “I also like your, like, everything.”

    “Oh, well, thank you very much,” Joe says, holding out his arms a little, like he’s presenting himself. He’s wearing nothing too unusual, just jeans and a nice collared shirt, but he could be wearing nothing but moth-eaten rags and you’d still be stupidly attracted to him.

    The way he looks at you makes you think that maybe he feels the same way about you. But you’re never quite sure. You’ve been crushing on him for over a year now, but you’re too scared to initiate anything. He broke up with his last girlfriend, Trish, almost a year ago, but it was pretty messy, and you don’t want to make him feel pressured. He hasn’t really tried dating anyone since then, so you’re fairly sure that’s an indicator that he’s still recovering.

    Which is fine. You’re fine with that. You’re fine to just be hopelessly in love from afar.

     The problem is you’re not very good at hiding it. Maybe Joe likes the attention, maybe he likes you back, you don’t know. You don’t like to think about it too much if you can help it – it’s too confusing.

    Whatever. You’re just happy to be around him.

-

    By the time you’re all heading to the club, not a single person is sober. Barely anyone is just tipsy anymore – you’re all drunk. Not blackout by any means, but the security at the door gives you all the hair eyeball before reluctantly letting you into the club.

    You can’t remember the last time you went out clubbing. As soon as you walk in, you suddenly remember why. The ear-splitting music, the crush of people, the sticky floors, the stupidly long lines to the bar. Not to mention the price of drinks.

    But then Joe’s hand is on the small of your back, and he’s leaning in to yell into your ear, “Want a drink?” and suddenly maybe the club isn’t so bad anymore.

    Joe buys you a shot, and you knock it back in one. He raises his eyebrows, impressed, and you give him a scathing look that you hope conveys, That really isn’t something to be impressed with. He has a shot himself, and pours it down his throat, and only coughs and winces a little bit. He gives you an expectant look, and you make a face and shake your head. He pouts and gives you the finger, and you laugh.

    You lean into him as you laugh. Luckily, you can blame it on the alcohol. You end up on the dancefloor. Joe likes to pretend that he can dance, but it’s not really the sort of dancing that suits a club, and he always takes himself a little too seriously when he does it. But you think it’s sweet that he puts in the effort.

    Then he gets that look in his eye – that look that tells you he’s about to do or say something that he thinks will be hilarious – and he shimmies closer to you, and then turns around so his back is to you, and pretends to grind on you.

    You scream and flail away, laughing and pushing him off you. “Joe!”

    He grins delightedly, ever so pleased with himself, and you hide your face behind your hand. He takes your hand and tugs you a bit closer. “Not up to scratch?” he teases.

    You shake your head. “Terrible.”

    “What?”

    “I said, you’re terrible.”

    “What was that? You said you’d show me how to do it properly?”

    You gape at him and take your hand back to smack him in the chest, and he laughs.

    “You couldn’t handle it,” you say.

    Joe’s eyebrows raise, and he says, “Think I could.”

    Oh, no, now you’re getting turned on, and you know you should diffuse the situation, because it’s probably just the alcohol talking and Joe doesn’t really like you that way, he’s just flirting for the fun of it, and you don’t want him to do anything he’d regret, and now you’re taking this far too seriously when all he’s doing is just having some fun, stop overthinking everything and just relax for once.

    “Oh, you couldn’t handle anything I do,” you say challengingly.

    You’re almost nose-to-nose now, and your body feels hot, and your heart is racing like a stallion. You’ve stopped dancing now, but you don’t even feel the people moving around you, bumping into you.

    Joe’s eyes drop to your lips, and half of you is screaming that you should stop this, and the other half is screaming at you to go for it, but then the decision is taken from your hands when someone spills half their drink on Joe, and he flinches away from you, spitting out a curse.

-

    “Yuck,” Joe whines. You’re both in the outside section now, where all the smokers hang out, but at least it’s marginally easier to talk, and the cool night air is helping dry Joe’s shirt. The beer’s all down his side, and on his arm, too, although he’s already been to the bathroom to wash it off.

    “What a jackass,” you say in sympathy.

    “Yeah.” Joe grimaces, and shifts. “Gonna smell of cigarette smoke too.”

    “Yup.” You sigh. “This is why I don’t go out anymore.”

    “Mm.”

    The tension from before is gone entirely, which, despite yourself, is really fucking frustrating. You’re still horny, and the alcohol is not helping, but you’d gotten yourself all worked up, and now there’s no outlet for it.

    You rub your hands over your thighs. “Do you know where the others have ended up?”

    Joe watches a group of people across the way laughing and talking. None of them can even stand up straight. “Nope,” he says.

    “Just us, then.”

    Joe looks to you, and there’s still something lingering in his gaze. “Could be worse.”

    Your stomach flips. “Guess so.”

    “Can I buy you another drink?” he says.

    You snort in amusement. “You wanna go back in there?”

    “I want some more alcohol. Gotta make some sacrifices.”

    When you re-enter the inside area and the crowd is once again suffocating, he reaches behind him and takes your hand.

    When you reach the bar, it takes him a while to let go.

    You buy the drinks this time, despite his protests, and you find yourselves on the edge of the dancefloor, not quite in with the crowd, but still very much in the dancing zone.

    The extra alcohol really starts to hit you a few minutes later, and you definitely feel unstable on your feet. It looks like Joe’s in a similar boat, and you’re both dancing, but it’s more just shuffling around, bopping to the beat, trying not to trip over your own feet.

    It doesn’t take long for you to find the nearest wall to lean against, pretending it’s all part of your plan to try to do something sexy, some hot sliding down the wall or something, but really you’re just tired of standing properly. Joe’s still swaying in front of you, and you don’t think he’s really on beat anymore but it’s hard to tell.

    He tries to do some silly dancing against you again, but a blind man could see that it’s just an excuse to get near you again and make you laugh, and he’s only really half-committing to the joke. You laugh anyway and push at him lightly.

    “You don’t like it?” he says.

    “Hate it.”

    “Oh, man,” Joe complains. “I can’t win. What do you like?”

    “I like–” But, somehow, you manage to swallow the end of the sentence.

    “What?” Joe says, and he moves in close to you, and you know he could hear you just fine before, but it thrills you to know that he’s wanting to stand this close to you.

    Unthinkingly, you slip a finger into the waistband of his jeans, tugging him even closer. “I like a man who takes charge,” you say into his ear, although you’re not quite sure why you say it.

    Joe pulls back, searching your face with somewhat glassy eyes. “Yeah?”

    You nod, biting your lip. The world swoops and swims around you.

    Joe licks his lips. “Bit stereotypical,” he says, and it’s a joke, but he seems too distracted – or too drunk – to put in the proper effort to play it up for laughs.

    You shrug a shoulder. “Just how it is.”

    Joe props his hand against the wall beside your head, and, his eyes watching your face, his other hand brushes over your side. Your breath catches, and, seeing your reaction, his hand comes to rest more firmly on your waist. 

    You know that alcohol is a depressant, it’s meant to dull your senses, so why Joe’s hand feels more real and warm and firm that anything else you’ve ever felt in your life, you don’t know.

    “I’m…” But, luckily, you swallow that sentence too.

    Joe’s other hand moves from the wall to your other side, and you instinctively pull him closer. He’s pressing you against the wall, and you can barely remember how to breathe. You’ve never felt more turned on in your life.

    “What?” he says.

    Your hands rest against his chest. “I’m– I–”

    Then he kisses you.

    It’s not gentle, either. It’s rough, and hot, and messy and desperate, all right off the bat. You whimper against his mouth, wrapping your hands around his neck, and his hands tighten on your waist.

    Now you’re those people. Those people who make out in a club, far too passionately to be appropriate where a whole room full of strangers can see, but, Jesus Christ, you don’t care.

    Joe’s a good kisser, even as drunk as he is, and when he pulls away to kiss your neck, you think you might die.

    “Joe,” you say breathlessly. “Joe, I–”

    He hums against your skin, and raises his head. His lips are kiss-swollen, his hair a disaster from your fingers.

    In that moment, the only thing you can think to say is, “I’m really– I’m so– I’m really fucking... turned on. Right now.”

    Joe laughs, and kisses you once, then pulls away. “Don’t ask me why, but you’re really cute when you’re desperately horny,” he says.

    You smile sheepishly.

    Joe kisses you again, and one of his hands brushes along your ribs, just under your breast, and you whine shakily, needy, pressing into him. He moans, and you can’t hear it over the music, but you can feel the vibrations, and he reluctantly pulls away again to say into your ear, “C’mon.”

-

    You burst into the disabled bathroom, stumbling, and Joe grabs your arm to steady you. You fall into him, giggling, and he wraps his arms around you, trying in vain to shush you, but he’s laughing himself. Twisting in his arms, you throw hook your elbows over his shoulders and pull him in for a kiss, and the two of you stagger blindly to the nearest wall, teeth colliding, noses bumping.

    The breath is punched out of you when you hit the wall, but you barely even notice, clawing at the back of Joe’s shirt, rucking it up, getting your hands on his bare skin. He pushes your skirt up to your waist, and you moan breathlessly into his mouth.

    “You gonna fuck me?” you ask him as he breaks away to press sloppy kisses to your throat.

    “Yeah,” he says, his voice rough, and it sounds so hot that you have to close your eyes. But then the world spins, so you wrench them open again.

    You paw at Joe’s jeans. “Off,” you demand, and Joe sways away from you, frowning down at his jeans, yanking at the button. You shimmy your underwear down to your ankles, and when Joe glances up at you, his eyes immediately latch onto your bare cunt. “Oh… my God,” he mumbles.

    You absentmindedly, impatiently, start fingering yourself, just a bit, just wanting to feel good and get some relief. “Come on,” you urge Joe. “Want you in me.”

    Joe finally manages the button, and only undoes the fly halfway, shoving his jeans and underwear down to his knees, and pressing himself to you, kissing you passionately. His hand replaces yours, and you fumble for his cock, pumping it, playing with it, getting it hard, and Joe’s panting shakily against your lips, his fingers clumsily circling your clit. His other hand tugs at the strap of your shirt, pulling it halfway down your arm, followed by your bra strap, and he yanks your bra down your chest a little, shoving his hand inside to knead your breast. You arch into him, moaning his name, and he responds with yours, bucking into your hand.

    “Turn around,” he mumbles, and you do, shuffling, and he grabs your hip with one hand and pushes on your back with the other, bending you over, making you moan far too loudly, the sound echoing in the bathroom.

    You feel the head of his cock sliding through your cunt, just teasing, and you push your hips back. “C’mon, do it,” you say.

    “Tell me you want it,” Joe says. “I wanna hear you say it.”

    “I want you to fuck me,” you say. “Please, come on, I’m so…”

    “You want me to fuck your tight little pussy?”

    “Yeah, I want it.”

    “Fuck.” Joe moans. “You’re so wet.”

    You whine. “Joe, please.”

    Joe breathes out shakily, and then he pushes into you, and you both moan at the sensation. 

    You hold yourself up against the wall with your arms, and your legs are already trembling. You’re about to beg Joe to move, but then he does, pulling out and driving into you again, and you gasp, and then it’s all you can do to stay upright as he fucks you hard and fast. Moans and pleas and whines are tumbling from your mouth of their own accord, and your fingers grapple for something to hold onto on the wall, and every grunt and moan of Joe’s makes you weak.

    Then he’s slowing down, and he draws away, pulling at your shoulder. “Wanna see your face,” he says breathlessly, and you let him manhandle you, turning you around again, and he presses you against the wall, kissing you deeply.

    You try hiking one leg up over his hip, but it’s too hard to stay balanced, so you shake your head, and mumble against his lips, “Sink, sink.”

    “Huh?”

    “Fuck me over the sink.”

    You both stagger over to the sink, and the reasonably sturdy-looking island it’s built into, and you hop up onto it, grappling with your underwear, pulling it off over your shoes. You tug Joe close to you, between your legs, hooking your ankles over the small of his back, and he wraps an arm firmly around your waist, sinking into you again.

    You lean back against the wall to find a better angle, keeping one hand on Joe’s shoulder, and he leans forward, mouthing at the swell of your partially-exposed breast.

    “Fuck, Joe,” you moan, and your eyes focus on where his cock is disappearing into you, and you find yourself fixated on the sight. It makes your whole body feel hot, like your blood is on fire.

    Joe takes your arm, tugs you forward again so he can kiss you, and he pulls you closer by your hips. “Shit,” he gasps against your lips. “You feel so good.”

    You press your forehead to his, occasionally nipping at each other’s lips, like you’re trying to kiss but you’re too focused on the movement of your bodies together to really try. He speeds up, his hips snapping against yours.

    “You gonna come?” you pant.

    “Yeah,” Joe grunts. “Shit.”

    You wriggle a hand in between your bodies and start touching yourself, and your pulse spikes, and you whine.

    “Fuck, I’m…” Joe’s arms shake, his rhythm stuttering. “Where– where d’you want it?”

    “In me, want it in me,” you blurt out.

    “You sure?”

    “Yeah, it’s fine, just wanna feel it, fuck.”

    Joe presses a searing kiss to your mouth, and you’re rubbing your clit furiously with one hand and clawing at the back of his shirt with the other, and then he breaks away to bury his face into your neck, moaning brokenly as he comes inside you, and you grip him to you, wanting to milk every so drop from him, feel it all inside you.

    He pants against your skin, kissing your neck, and then he lifts his head to kiss your lips. “Shit,” he sighs, and his mouth is soft and pliant, his eyes warm on your face when he draws back to look at you.

    You haven’t come yet. You don’t know whether to say anything about it or not. But you give Joe a smile anyway, and give him a brief kiss of your own.

    He pulls out of you, and you make a small sound at the emptiness you feel. Joe kisses you again, and then his fingers find yours, and you moan as you realise he’s wanting to feel his come leak out of you, all over his fingers.

    You twitch, breaking the kiss. “Joe, touch me,” you beg.

    He does, his fingers clumsy in his drunkenness but confident and just the right amount of pressure, and he watches your face closely as he makes you tremble. He fucks you with his fingers, and the wet sound of it is obscene.

    “So fucking hot,” he breathes. “You’re so perfect.”

    “Joe, please,” you whine.

    “Yeah, baby, I got you, just relax.”

    You try to kiss him, but he pulls back. “No, I wanna watch you.” His mouth hangs open slightly, and you want to bite at his pouty bottom lip. “You look like a mess.”

    “I do?” you say.

    “Yeah,” Joe says. “Everyone’s gonna know that you’ve just been fucked in the bathroom. No way you can hide it.”

    His thumb plays with your clit, and every so often his fingers slide completely out of you, dragging up to your clit, rubbing it, teasing it, and then he presses his fingers back into you. Your orgasm is building slowly, bit by bit, and you’re powerless to do anything but let Joe do as he pleases. All you can do is moan and squirm.

    “Please,” you whine. “Please.”

    “Shh, you gotta keep quieter than that,” Joe whispers.

    You shake your head. “I– I can’t.”

    “You gotta try.”

    He massages your G-spot, and a gasping cry tears from your throat, your body shaking. “Fuck, please!”

    Blissfully, Joe speeds up, and you’re so close. “Joe, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come.”

    He speeds up even more, and you grip his forearm, sobbing, and then finally you tumble over the edge, your orgasm pulsing through you, and you cry out, your hips bucking.

    Joe shushes you again, surging forward to kiss you, to swallow every noise you make, as he eases you through it.

    Your orgasm seems to take forever to settle, but when it does, you sigh on a small whimper, and your kisses grow deeper, less frantic, more controlled. Joe draws his hand away and tucks himself back into his briefs, then sets his on your thigh. His fingers are wet, sticky, but you don’t care.

    Finally, you and Joe break apart, and you meet eyes. You bite your lip, and glance away, almost embarrassed.

    Joe kisses your cheekbone. “So hot,” he breathes. “I’m so obsessed with you.”

    You laugh again, and bury your face in his neck.

    “Go on a date with me,” Joe murmurs, and you lift your head.

    “What?”

    “Go on a date with me,” he says again. “I wanna take you out to dinner.”

    Surely this is a dream. “Yeah,” you say with a grin, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Course.”

    Joe presses a quick kiss to your lips, and then there’s banging on the bathroom door and someone yelling something incoherent.

    You groan. “I don’t wanna go back out there.”

    “Then come over,” Joe says.

    You give him a look of suspicion. “What about that dinner first, hm?”

    “I’ll buy you food on the way home,” Joe says with a cheeky smile. “Or I can make you breakfast in the morning.”

    You sigh, and hum in approval, leaning in for another kiss. There’s another round of banging on the door, which interrupts you, and you frown at the door.

    “C’mon,” Joe says, and helps you down from the counter. You both tidy yourselves up as best you can, and then Joe takes your hand, and you wobble out of the bathroom. Joe’s head is held high as he muscles past the line of irritated people, and you hide your face in his chest.

    You both elbow your way through the club and out the door, and Joe calls you both a ride.

    “You’re so obsessed with me?” you ask him.

    He wraps his arm around your waist, and presses a kiss to your hair. “Mm-hm. Have been for months now. Glad you noticed.”

    “I… I didn’t think you liked me in that way,” you say. “I wasn’t sure.”

    Joe huffs a laugh. “Don’t know how I could’ve made it any more obvious,” he says.

    “Well, you made it pretty obvious tonight.”

    “And I’m about to make it really obvious a couple more times when we get back to mine.”

    You scoff, and shove at him lightly. He laughs, and ducks his head to steal a kiss. You twist in his arms to kiss him back.

#my writing #joe mazzello x reader #bohemian rhapsody fanfiction #smut #rpf

[writesowhatnext]

not the brightest of ideas // sirius black

Summary: reader is Sirius’ side piece but you might have a few more feelings than required for this particular role

Request: Another Sirius x Reader ANGST (i'm obsessed w sirius angst i'm sorryyy😔) based on the song "The Weekend" by SZA. Sirius has a girlfriend and y/n is his side chick who is in love w him but he doesn't give a shit about her :( They dont talk in public and his friends and gf don't know about her, of course. She tells him she wants more than just sex with him but he doesn't care :( Angst ending please! Ty babe 🥺

A/N: I’m not a fan of stories with ppl cheating but I liked your request tbh bc I always hate hate hate it when people are like “no I love you I’ll never cheat on you again it was a mistake” bc personally that’s just bullshit

Reader: unspecified 

Warnings: toxic relationship!!!, cheating, nsfw, sex talk, angst, swearing

“Could you be more of a swot?” Your friend asked as she left the library, ready to go to the party. You laughed as she left, rolling your eyes. Charms essays don’t write themselves. You walked around the bookshelves, stopping by the section on levitation charms. Sliding a thick hardback from the shelf, you turned to sit down, instead walking straight into someone’s back.

“Shit, sorry.” You said as he turned around slowly. He was tall and handsome and his red tie suited him no matter how scruffily it had been knotted.

“Not a problem.” He smirked, wiping his bottom lip with his thumb. You offered a smile in response.

“I’m Sirius Black.”

You recognised the name. If his handsome face hadn’t already made you nervous, his reputation surely did.

“Y/N.”

He nodded, tonguing his cheek.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

He nodded again and then turned around. He walked towards another boy, James Potter if you remembered correctly. As you stood there, contemplating what exactly had just happened, he turned back to face you. You bit your lip. He shot you a wink. You stepped back behind the shelf slightly. James turned around to see what Sirius was looking at. He didn’t see you.

“What’s up, Pads?”

“Nothing.”

That’s all you ever were to Sirius Black.

You should’ve known, really. Sirius Black was notorious at Hogwarts: a handsome pureblood wizard who could and did get anyone he wanted. He was smart and talented and funny and charming and rebellious. One thing he was not was monogamous. Everyone knew that. He liked to play, especially with girls. Though, he didn’t discriminate. If he wanted something, he would take it – to hell with the consequences. When he decided he wanted you, who were you to deny him?

After you met, for months he did nothing unless you were alone. He would pass you in the corridors without a glance, he never said hello; he acted like you didn’t even exist. But when you were alone, he was completely obsessed. In empty hallways and between shelves in the library, he would whisper the dirtiest things in your ear, his hands wandering all over you. He enjoyed the effect he had on you, you just knew it. He loved the way your breathing would get shallow and the wild, blown look in your eyes. He lived for the feeling of your hands on him, the high he got from the attention. When the rumour spread that he was dating Marlene McKinnon, you expected your secretive fun to stop, especially when he kissed her in the Great Hall in front of everybody. Whispers spread throughout the castle of Marlene McKinnon being the girl that finally tied Sirius Black down. You believed them until Sirius knocked on your door in the middle of the day one weekend.

There was a Hogsmeade trip and it was the last before Christmas, so almost everyone had gone. You hadn’t been in the mood, too busy with school work and not up for having to watch Sirius and Marlene snog across a pint of butterbeer. The last person you expected to see when you opened your door was him. He was more impatient than usual, pushing past you into your empty room, casting a quick look over his shoulder to see if anyone had seen him.

“Hi.” He said, as if it hadn’t been weeks. You tried to ignore the way his grin had you weak at the knees.

“What are you doing here?”

“Aren’t you pleased to see me?”

You bit your lip. He walked forwards, a sly smile on his face as he placed his hands on your hips.

“I thought we could have a bit of fun.”

You frowned up at him, far too aware of his fingers playing with the hem of your jumper, itching to remove it.

“What about Marlene?”

He smirked, tipping his head to the side. He leant forwards and your breathing stopped as his lips pressed to the shell of your ear.

“This can be our little secret, eh?”

And, so it was. For weeks.

If the guilt about helping Sirius cheat wasn’t enough, you had to cope with feelings you didn’t expect. It had been embarrassingly easy to convince yourself that Sirius wasn’t just doing this with only you so you weren’t really that guilty in the whole thing – he was the one in a relationship after all. You hated your newly messed up, self-validating logic, but it made it easier to at least partially lift the weight on your conscience. The weight of your feelings was something else entirely. You found yourself staring at Sirius across of rooms, in class, the Great Hall, corridors, Hogsmeade, even. Something about the way he laughed, the way he teased his friends, set something alight in you. It was part of a Sirius you only ever got to see if he fell asleep before you.

As a rule, Sirius avoiding sleeping with you. He would either leave straight after sex or he would be gone by morning, usually returning to his dorm in the dead of night before you or the castle woke up. He’d made it very clear that this was only between you – no one could know. It made your heart ache. As did seeing him asleep next to you. He was so calm when he slept, so vulnerable. Some nights he had a small smile on his face that made butterflies erupt inside you. It was a different Sirius to the one you spent your nights hot and heavy with. He was so many more things than just someone to sleep with and that scared you. Every time you were together you found yourself wishing for more. You couldn’t regret your choice to carry on with your arrangement; you would take any scrap of attention you could get from him. That said, you were fully aware of how pathetic it was and you realised how stupid you were to think this would be easy. What a bad idea it was to get yourself involved with him.

Thoughts of being more than what you were with Sirius filled your mind for weeks. It wasn’t until another Hogsmeade weekend in summer that he’d been able to ditch his friends and see you. He’d passed you a note very covertly in the corridor the week before telling you to stay at Hogwarts. Part of you wanted to go to Hogsmeade just to spite him, to prove that you weren’t that desperate. You were though. When you opened the door to your dorm, him pushing past you as he always did, you felt numb. You looked behind him to see if anyone was out there. There wasn’t, obviously, they all had real relationships to enjoy - not empty moments shared in the dark. When you turned around, he was kissing you, hands pressed to your cheeks before dropping to your shirt, starting to undo the buttons. Usually, you helped him. Or took off his clothes. Not this time.

It took him a while before he noticed your overall lack of participation and stepped back, dropping his hands slightly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, breathless and confused. You blinked.

“N-nothing. Sorry.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly but seemed to give up on his interrogation when you began to undress him. He didn’t care that much anyway. It wasn’t until you pulled back again, palms against his bare shoulders, his hands at your waist, that he huffed.

“What is up with you today, Y/N?”

There was no fondness in his voice. He’d never throw his arm around you as he did to Marlene McKinnon in the Three Broomsticks.

“I-“ you had even less of an idea of what you were going to say than he did. “I can’t do this anymore, Sirius.”

“What?”

He wasn’t hurt, that was obvious. Confused, definitely. Annoyed, probably. Not hurt though. He just pulled away from you, frowning. After a moment his hands left your body.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He said. You squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head.

“It’s not that.”

He frowned.

“I need more than this.” You opened your eyes even though you knew seeing his face would break your heart. “I want more than this. With you.”

He didn’t understand at first. Then a strangely regretful look passed over his features before it hardened completely. You hated the way a part of you lit up at the regret, happy that he cared even a little about your feelings before he went for the jugular.

“I don’t like you, Y/N.” he insisted, somewhat firmly, as if he were fishing for each word individually. “This was never going to be anything more.”

You nodded, clenching your jaw. You didn’t trust your voice, already aware of the tears blurring your vision and the lump growing in your throat. He got off your bed, pulling his trousers up. You watched him throw his shirt on, doing up the buttons quickly, haphazardly.

“Sirius, I-“ his eyes were sharp. “I’m sorry.”

He looked down to do his tie, casting one last hard look at you.

“Yeah.” He said, turning around and disappearing through the door, shutting it behind him.

You swallowed, chewing at your top lip as tears began to run down your cheeks. Part of you knew this would happen. You should’ve expected it from the start, really. It was never going to be a good idea to get so close to Sirius Black. You pulled your bed sheets over your head, desperate to hide from the world.

#sirius black x reader #Sirius Black imagine #Harry Potter imagine #harry potter #writing #imagine #sirius black #marauders #marauders imagine

[chal-lelerc]

ok so like. here’s my harry potter house thing. i’m ngl i tried to do this but then i deleted it bc it was getting too long and i didn’t have the attention span but. it kept sticking in my brain so i decided to pick it back up and as such, i’ve lost the original post but it was a quarantine activity (sort drivers into houses, assign quidditch positions, explain) posted by @verstappened​. houses done first, then positions, then explanations for both. i tried to make feasible teams, i.e making sure there arent too many of a single position per house, so this really screwed some of the sorting but oh well.

i did the houses first, then positions, then explanations in that order for the most part.

5/13/20: the sorting was mostly done before i heard all the differing opinions (of which there were many!)

5/19/20: alright so this is literally like 2 months old but i’ve just finished it lolol

Lewis Hamilton:

Slytherin: THE GLORY MAN. the aloof kind of superiority, confidence, is top dog, he’s simply the pinnacle of it all. kind of lethal and doesn’t do the whole ‘looking up to others’ things (outwardly, but he seems very soft on the inside tbh). very majestic and is almost a gryffindor, the kind of slytherin that Merlin is. hard-working, got here from incredibly humble beginnings, which kind of stands out from the rest, but he’s clearly now at the top level of society. still very protective of Others. scarily ambitious. Was originally a gryffindor but I wanted the brits to be in different houses for their quidditch positions to work. Could honestly go either way though.

Seeker: more glory. periodt. he stays winning and scoring the most points. clutch-man. Speedy boy, kind of in a different world than everyone else when competing (he’s always at the front lifetimes away from everyone else lmao. playing a diff game.)

Valtteri Bottas:

Hufflepuff: HE SEEMS. LIKE. A. BIG. CHILD. always relegated and brushed off but is literally God-Tier and no one can convince me otherwise. i consider him to be rather reliable (reflecting only the 2019 season at least lmao). a bit of a vindictive streak bc he knows what he’s Capable Of even when others underestimate him. has a very bright smile.

Beater: have u seen him. he’s a big boy even though he’s 5′8 and only an inch taller than lando norris he seems bigger than he is ok

Charles Leclerc:

Slytherin: this bitch. what a snake. hiss hiss.

Chaser: he wants what lewis hamilton has but chose the wrong position. still a star in his own right. pride and joy of his house, will be at the lead of every formation play unless told otherwise by his head of house, to which he will brood and complain ab but comply in the end bc he wants Team Success and loyalty to his Family. scores the most points on the team and people act like he carries even though he literally has a partner(s).

ok but fr my gut said charles is a slytherin (do i really need to explain why? very critical, doesn’t accept inferiority, somehow succeeds. just a feeling his brain seems to fit motorsport politics well), but i was seriously contemplating whether he’d be a gryffindor to max’s slytherin instead. but then i saw someone mention the whole lion schtick and i was like for all of max’s brattiness he is Gryffindor so sharl is snake. sorry don’t make the rules just follow them.

further edit: this was written before he started streaming (this is how old this draft is) and can u believe him he’s the epitome of the “not all slytherins r evil wenches” idea

Sebastian Vettel:

Ravenclaw: idk for all of Seb’s goofiness he just seems cerebral to me. Seems to know mildly irrelevant facts and is really quite smart however is hopeless in the modern age. Kind of that wise old(er he’s not that old) man knowledge. I’d trust him to give me all the life advice I need but also to write a 10 page essay on the nuances of the effect of emotion on verbal language (which we all know he is very experienced with).

Keeper: it’s the protective Dad Power.

Max Verstappen:

Gryffindor: WAS REALLY GONNA PUT HIM IN SLYTHERIN BC HE’S A NASTY LIL SHIT. TOTAL BRAT. GIVES FUCK ALL WHAT OTHERS SAY. BUT HE IS LION AND LION IS HE SO GRYFFINDOR IT IS. also just bc he needs to oppose sharl in every way possible it’s called Poetic Cinema. also his driving style is clearly the bravery and confidence to the point of recklessness that is prevalent among gryffindors.

Chaser: again, he must oppose Charles. so, not a seeker although he’s clearly singularly the most prized competitor. just like Charles, pride and joy of house, their star chaser. the comparisons never end. the competition never ends. the fighting never ends. one of the most interesting and dynamic performers to watch, is predictable in that he’s not predictable except that he will always be aggro to the max. will always be in trouble for getting rough bc that’s Not His Job but that’s just the gryffindor disregard for rules. master point scorer.

Alex Albon:

Gryffindor: was really a toss up btwn this and Hufflepuff but the ultimate deciding factor was the fact that I wanted all the British Boys to be seekers. he really just sticks it out as max’s teammate like a real one (nothing against max, everything against Helmet Merco) for the good of the team, still is sweet with max anyway. fitting that they’re in the same house too.

Seeker: he’s not the small boy that lando and lewis are but he is (thai/)British. very special boy (big ups on the promotion even tho it was Sad Times for Pear) deserves very special job. also he has a hot girlfriend (alex albon who i only know lily he’s boy toy) idk how that’s relevant but it seems fitting.

Carlos Sainz:

Ravenclaw: bc he’s a spaniard but is still better at english than Lando (i think everyone is tbh). Seems to be a quiet type of smart, sensible, but perhaps this is just the consequence of being compared to Lanno at all times LMAO (no hate all love bby Lannd). would be the type of ravenclaw to follow his friends on absolutely idiotic ventures but would step in to prevent near death or likely-legal-problem causing actions (and only then; otherwise it’s every man for themselves and everyone is free to make a fool of themselves and break some laws. carlos may dabble in such practices.)

Chaser: seems to be a go-getter, not going for points doesn’t even cross his mind. will always be the one driving up the pitch, the strategist of sorts bc he seems big(ger) brain (than lando lololol).

Edit: I wrote this part ab him long ago but this entire section of this post is now irrelevant and canceled.

Lando Norris:

Hufflepuff: you all know why. zero explanation needed. like, none.

also has a bit of an aggressive streak which tends to catch ppl off guard. is not afraid to confront u (hello pageNO) and at times defies the hufflepuff stereotype of being perpetually happy go-lucky (he has his bad days!). but when with His True Crew he is absolutely a hufflepuff ball of energy.

Seeker: small and speedy. energetic to the max. small. quirky and different from the rest, so he gets the special job. small. everyone would kill to protect him. small.

Daniel Ricciardo:

Gryffindor: AW I DIDN’T EVEN REALIZE THAT I PUT HIM AND MAX TOGETHER. LOOK I EVEN MADE THEM BOTH CHASERS. AH HOW BIGBRAIN MY MIND IS. everything ab dan is gold. golden skin, the colors in redbull and renault, his smile, just the vibes. he’s just got the enthusiasm and charisma and this intensity of a gryffindor. super aggressive, his late breaking (from his rbr at least) is legendary and maddening with how he pulls it off. is almost a hufflepuff but the gut said no.

Chaser: is Max’s teammate. so yeah. was obviously the star until younger max came to the show. a bit lost in limbo bc of it but they still work well together.

literally want to make him a hufflepuff so. bad. but i couldn’t split up maxiel. also his vibe is just different from other ‘puffs like stroll so.

Esteban Ocon:

Slytherin: ask max.

Chaser: being characterized off of their relationship with max seems to be a theme here. will go head to head with max w/ absolutely zero shits given. talented, but the rivalry with max is entirely secondary to charles imho. still yet to show his full potential but is still quietly a thorn in max’s side. many are interested to see what he is able to do in the immediate future.

Pierre Gasly:

Hufflepuff: GUYS HE WANTS TO OWN A PANDA

Chaser: constantly trying to prove himself and score big boy points. had a stint as seeker until lando came along. did not do as well as ppl had hoped, returned to chaser and proceeded to crush it from there. praticed a lot with charles as children (the friendship dynamic w/ their houses was definitely unforseen but is amazing).

Daniil Kvyat:

Hufflepuff: really wanted to make him a slytherin but the quidditch positions didn’t work out. firmly believe this works though. more of the rough and tumble type, definitely the kind that will sock u in the nose if u write off hufflepuffs as a joke. could honestly probably be a gryffindor too with how unapologetically aggressive he can be in the name of His Beliefs. gives me big dumb himbo vibes now that i think ab it tbh which is mostly the justification here. also he has a child omg.

Chaser: but the one that’s always headbutting bludgers out of the air (torpedo bitches). also had a stint as seeker before but it Was Not His Thing. he’d much rather be chasing and throwing things than seeking things. also he’s pierre’s mate :,) would’ve been a beater but romain and valtteri will not be anything else so daniil took the boot whoops.

Sergio Perez:

Slytherin: it’s just the vibe. knows his weaknesses and is able to make up for it with his confidence and talent in his strengths. very ambitious, plays the right cards at the right times to get the right results. something ab him puts me on edge, but like in a good way; i feel like there’s always a trump card up his sleeve, like when he gets to q3 out of fucking nowhere in a racing point.

Keeper: he gives me the same vibes as seb idk what it is. very dependable, backbone of his team.

Lance Stroll:

Hufflepuff: guys have u seen the guy. he’s just here to have a good time. may seem a bit airheaded at times but he means well 99% of the time. untapped potential. seems like a no thoughts head empty canadian hockey boy (and every one of these types is a hufflepuff don’t fight it); may or may not be the only accurate description of him.

Chaser: he’s just trying his best out here. i

KEEPER?: SO I DID A QUICK GOOGLE AND HE USED TO BE A HOCKEY

GOALIE?????

so scratch my initial thoughts (tbh i didn’t really know where to put him and i originally had romain as keeper but that’s an issue to fix later on now) BECAUSE LANCE STROLL IS A keeper GOALIE AND NO ONE CAN REFUTE THIS. ABSOLUTELY NO HUMAN OF THIS EARTH. WHAT GLORIOUS INFORMATION TO STUMBLE ACROSS.

Kimi Raikkonen:

Slytherin: guys i really don’t have an in depth analysis of this but i don’t think iceman needs one.

Beater: see above^. y’all must get the vibe.

tbh could also be a keeper tho similar energies to seb and checo, but honestly his no fucks given attitude is ultimately what swayed me

Antonio Giovinazzi:

Gryffindor: he just has that majestic quality (that could also fit a slytherin but i only see red when i see antonio). look at that lion’s mane. also he’s one of kimi’s to paddock friends? seems fitting that he’s a gryffindor to kimi’s slytherin.

Chaser: plays second fiddle to the duo that is max and daniel, often regulated to vibing on the side. but he’s there and he’s important and he has potential (i’ve been seeing ppl talking ab a ferrari move and i’m positively shaken). [edit: again, this post is old.]

im sorry its glaringly obvious idk much about him asdfjasldkd

Kevin Magnussen:

Slytherin: guys lots of these are just self explanatory sorry if i seem like im taking the cheap way out but it’s fact. brundle and crofty call him a great white shark for crying out loud.

Beater: unapologetically chaotic. lurking around the edges making people feel hunted. spends more time playing baseball in the middle of the matches than quidditch and sometimes it backfires but it’s good fun and it sometimes works.

Romain Grosjean:

Hufflepuff: y’all he’s such dad energy and he likes to cook. gets written off a lot but he actually cares (he’s a part of the grand prix drivers assoc.!). he seems so wholesome and he spends time with his kids and their school work when he can do u feel those water drops yeah those r my tears.

Beater: i really wanted to make him a slytherin beater to make him teammates with k-mag but he’s just. not a slytherin. but i kept the beater part. spends the majority of the hufflepuff v. slytherin matches sending bludgers kevin’s way even when he doesn’t mean to. it’s always reciprocated.

George Russell:

Ravenclaw: I’VE SAID IT BEFORE AND I’LL SAY IT AGAIN THIS KID. is so marvelously well spoken and he just has such a simple yet effective way with words. he knows what’s reasonable to expect but never fails to expect the most that he can given his circumstances. again, mentioned this before but a lot of it is his accent. the glottal stop is a historically stereotypically rural (i.e. “uneducated”) thing but I’m American and I Don’t Listen to the Rules, so the accent just makes him seem so sophisticated to me especially when he’s saying things like “horriiiiiiiific” and presenting his hefty powerpoints.

Seeker: my British Boys Are Seekers headcanon continues. definitely a Golden Boy of the team kind of guy (hello tragic dumpsterfire that is williams :/ ).

Nicholas Latifi:

Hufflepuff: same boat as lance. his twitch streams are so wholesome he’s just chilling man. twitter made me write him off as daft and unnecessary at first but like fuck twitter i’m all here for ninky latvia now.

Chaser: lowkey gives me keeper vibes as well? the sensible, level-headedness. but obvs that’s lance so chaser it is. still the level-headedness that helps him hold down the fort btwn pierre and daniil who can tend to get a bit imaginative, and also the energies of them + lando.

5/19/20: so it’s quite clear to me that i grew tired of brain functions the more time i took on this and the later ones are a bit lacking and for that i’m very sorry. that being said i’m still happy to see this finished bc the idea was VERY exciting for me.

#max verstappen #charles leclerc #daniel ricciardo #lando norris #f1 #formula one #f1 grid #harry potter grid #finally done folks lordt #was anyone waiting for this idk but it's here #it's also glaringly obvious who i know less about but that too is something that one must excuse #whoops

[amphxtrite]

Ships? OMFG YES!!

(Golden era PLEASSEER!)

Hi I’m aurora! I’m 16 years old and I am a Slytherin. (Pottermore approved Bc that matters now ig)

I simp mostly for Cedric and Draco (fred as well)

But ship me with whoever you think I’d prefer male hp characters but I’m pan sexual so females is alright I just simp for hp males for some reason idk I’m weird.

I have black hair long it goes down to my butt I’m 5”2 so it matters how long you think it is for that. I have emerald green eyes. Super dark like the forest at night. I just got my braces off (yay) so my teeth are pretty straight. I ride and train horses everyday so I’m more of a rowdy socially person. I have depression and anxiety (diagnosed and medicated because that matters now to it’s ridiculous how people are these days) it plays a big part in my personality cough cough why I got Slytherin. My favorite colors are emerald green, black, and silver. My favorite class would be potions Bc those interest me the most tbh. Also im an animal loverrrrr. I’m tough on the outside but sweet and scared on the inside. Broken but glued back to together to summarize it. My horses name is sparticus. He is all black. I rescued him from the slaughter house 2 1/2 years ago. He was skin and bones and I got him fat and chunky. He is the only thing that makes me smile even when I can’t. He plays a big role in my personality since I’ve seen cruel things and he took me thru hell with his training. And I said to much shit about myself and now I’m uncomfortable. Okay bye

Rory I love you so much lmao

I ship you with...

Cedric Diggory.

how you meet

Potions class was always something Cedric had dreaded going too, Snape seemed to enjoy it when he suffered. Stepping into the cold dungeon classroom he expected an empty room and an unforgiving Snape, but instead the room was empty except for a short girl with dark hair and green eyes, scanning over a textbook and flipping the pages every so often. He couldn’t describe it, but there was something about your eyes and small smile that drew him in and he took a seat in the chair across from you.

“Um, hello. I’m Cedric.” He greets pulling his parchment and quill from his bag. A look of panic crosses your face when a person is made present in the empty class, but you soon calm down and introduce yourself.

“Aurora, but you can call me Rory.” You smile up at the grey eyes hufflepuff.

“Rory, I rather like that.” He smiles as more students flood into the room.

“I-I like your eyes.” He comments awkardly, shuffling his papers around.

“Thank you Ced, I-I like yours too.” You respond.

From then on Cedric looks forward to his class in the dungeons. It no longer feels dark and cold, but happy and warm with you sitting across from him. You partner together for most of the projects and often times wander through the halls together, just talking about whatever was on your mind.

You tutor Cedric in Potions because he’s rather horrid at it (Sometimes he pretends to suck just so he can spend more time with you.)

One day he finds you in the Magical Creatures section of the school beside a magnificent Aethonon and you introduce him.

“Oh hey Ced, this is Sparticus.” You smile up at the awed brunette.

“He’s gorgeous Rory! Do you ride him?”

You almost roll your eyes at Cedric, but hop on to show him a couple of tricks.

Cedric states with his mouth agape the entire time.

You tell him the story of how you and your family saved Sparticus and how much joy he brought to you.

Cedric smiles through your entire conversation, nodding enthusiastically and asking questions.

When Cedric finds out about your mental health he doesn’t let that affect how he thinks, but he does make sure to shower you with extra love.

He knows he’s fallen for you and he’s willing to go the distance to show you.

He loves the look on your face when he gives you flowers or gives you a hug, you just look like an innocent little soul and he wants to protect you.

He loves watching you get excited and will jump around with you often.

He likes to call you his little emerald, and you melt everytime.

If you ever get overwhelmed or are feeling anxious he’s right there beside you to hold your hand or cuddle you close helping you breathe and whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

He likes to sketch you as you ride Sparticus and he likes to leave everything colourless except for your eyes. He loves your eyes.

He asks you out on your first date by tying a note to Sparticus’s saddle and waiting. He knew it was cliché, but he’ll never forget when the look on your face as you ran towards him and jumped into his arms, squealing happily.

For the date he gets Hagrid’s permission to meet all the friendly creatures he knew. Hagrid happily obliged and oversaw the two of you as you played with Nifflers, bowtruckles, Porlocks and even a Hippogriff. Sparticus was beside you as you played. Cedric knew how much the magical horse brought you and he knew that he had to come.

The way your face lit up at every creature made every second perfect.

towards the evening the two of you bud Hagrid goodbye and walk over to a field to watch the sunset. Cedric puts his arm around you as you sit in the grass and looks down at your happy smile. He takes your chin into his fingers and tilts your chin up to meet your eyes before gently leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss.

It’s light and chasté, but eventually grows deeper as Cedric parts his lips and tilts his chin to be even closer to you. When you eventually pull away Cedric is grinning like a maniac and you’re giggling into Cedric’s side.

hope you liked this Rory!! @cedricsyellowscarf

[miraculoussage]

Breaking Out

Sorry for the lack of formatting regarding this section. My laptop charger broke so I’m currently stuck with mobile, and I am not great at mobile text organization. Also sorry for the lack of a read-more. Once again, mobile :(  fixed bc i have a laptop again B)

Rating: General

Characters: Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir main character; lots of other characters making an appearance, lots of Plagg, Marinette/Ladybug, and Gabriel

Relationships: Light love-square (pre-relationship)

Other tags: Trans boy Adrien, mostly closeted trans Adrien, transphobia (no transphobic violence), mentions of a dead name but no actual use of the dead name, misgendering, mentions of Dysphoria; supportive friends, Gabriel Agreste is a soggy tissue, minor mentions of diet control, minor redesigns of LB and CN costumes, major redesigns of civilian Adrien bc closet trans. Use of the word queer as an identifier and not a slur.

Part 2

♪~ ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ

The worst thing about being a popular fashion model, Adrien thought, was his image pasted all over the city. He had to see himself in the mirror enough as it was; seeing himself dressed up in the most feminine clothes his father could design, his long blond hair professionally styled into curls and braids and up-dos, and with enough makeup for three circus clowns made his skin itch. All of Paris, all of the world saw him as he was on the billboards and posters, in heavily edited magazine photos, set on backgrounds of flowers and butterflies. Everyone saw Adrien as a girl, Gabriel Agreste’s beautiful model daughter. Everyone except himself.

He had thought about coming out to his mother and father before, but while he was trying to find the nerve or the right moment, he overheard his father firing one of his models for coming out as trans. After that, his anxiety grew. He could never tell his parents, especially his father, not until he was living on his own and not relying on his modelling career and his father for survival.

Even when he went to school for the first time, he had to introduce himself as his dead name and endure the misgendering. He had considered coming out to Chloe, too, but while she didn’t seem to be transphobic, he didn’t trust her enough to keep it a secret. She thrived on gossip, sometimes even at the expense of her friends. Whether or not it was on purpose didn’t exactly matter to Adrien in this situation.

Plagg was the first person he ever came out to, not entirely on purpose. When he transformed into Chat Noir the first time, he actually cried for a few minutes. He felt different and he felt right and when he caught his reflection in a mirror he saw exactly who he wanted to be. Aside from his inhuman eyes and the strangeness of the costume, of course. His hair was short and messy and the makeup his father insisted he wear every day was entirely gone.

His costume was thick black leather, covering his whole body up to his neck where a bell sat at his collar. There was soft padding on his shoulders, elbows, and knees, barely visible under the leather. He had black combat boots with green soles that reached half way up his calf, laced with bright green laces, and lined with soft material if the same colour. His gloves, too, were black leather with soft green lining, claws on the fingers. Over the black bodysuit, he had a sleeveless hoodie; the fabric was looser and lighter than the leather, it almost seemed like cotton except it was sleek and waterproof. The pouch pocket was bright green with a single black paw print in the middle. All of the lining was the same bright green, visible in the hood and extending to the hems of the shirt. The hood itself had spaces cut out for the leather cat ears on his head, and fit loose and comfortable without falling over his eyes. Most importantly to Adrien, his chest was entirely flat without pressure.

After the first Akuma was stopped and Adrien transformed back, Plagg was suddenly gentle where he wasn’t before. “So what was that, then? What are your pronouns? Got a different name than the one I know?” After answering the questions and having another emotional moment, Plagg was back to being aloof and snarky, seemingly only concerned with cheese.

Adrien warmed up to the little cat-god fast. It felt more than amazing to be called the right thing for once, and Plagg at the least acknowledged his angry and frustrated rants about anything related to his gender that he’d never been able to share with anyone before. “As long as you keep giving me cheese,” Plagg had said, but somewhere along the way the meaning of the sentence changed to “always”, unspoken but genuine.

At school, things started out nice despite the rough start from being Chloe’s friend. The misgendering and dead name weighed down on him, though, and soon his new friends shared their concern about him. No one had any idea what it was about. It could be anything from his father to his mother to his modelling to just not getting enough sleep, but he’d hidden himself enough that no one would ever guess what it truly was about.

Nino was good about (sort of) silent comfort, offering to talk about it but relenting easily and moving to sharing music, food, memes, stories, and just a comforting presence. Alya always tried to figure out what was wrong and when she came to her own conclusions she would give him advice, though it was never the advice he needed. And Marinette...

Though Marinette was shy and got flustered easily, when her friends were in pain, she would stop at nothing to help them feel better. When he sighed about going home at the end of the day, she would invite him over to do homework, which usually ended up actually being video games. It became almost a routine by the spring, the two of them (and sometimes their friends) hanging out in the Dupain-Cheng apartment, snacking on yesterday’s left-over pastries while they played games, watched movies, talked, or rarely actually doing homework. Marinette’s parents were incredibly kind to Adrien, he was even envious that Marinette had such a supportive family. She was open about her biromantic identity, and never suffered for it at home.

As a result of their time spent together and Marinette’s own tendencies to not back down from helping her friends, she was the second person he came out to. It was a mess of tears between them, and Marinette apologized profusely for the misgendering, despite having no idea she was doing it. It made Adrien laugh, which made Marinette laugh, and then they were both laughing and crying at the same time. When Sabine came up to check on them, Adrien found he didn’t care that she was seeing him like this, and didn’t try to hide his identity from her anymore. Then, Sabine was crying with them, hugging Adrien close and giving him all the affirmations he never got from another human. (It was then that he decided he was now Adrien Dupain-Cheng, and she and Tom were his new parents.)

They all understood how important it was to keep this new information a secret, from everyone. If it got to his father or, gods forbid, the media, everything would go to hell in a hand basket. Marinette helped him fix his makeup before he left, apologizing even more about him needing to wear it. As usual, Sabine snuck some fresh pastries into his bag while he pretended not to notice when she hugged him goodbye. On the way out, Tom stopped him. The bakery was empty, just closed for the evening minutes before. “Adrien,” the news had reached him earlier via Sabine, “if you ever ever need a place to go for any reason, you’re always welcome here. No questions asked, any time day or night.” He had to hand a napkin to Adrien, tears gathering in his eyes again. As Adrien’s car pulled up to the front of the bakery, they said goodbye for the night, and Adrien was on his way back to the mansion. It wasn’t home, not anymore.

He came out to Ladybug third, but he didn’t know if it counted as third when he was Chat Noir. It was a rather casual interaction, against all expectations. The two of them were jogging across rooftops, keeping their eyes out for any sort of problem, just a regular Saturday patrol. They were talking about TV shows, sharing their theories for the next episode and the rest of the season; Ladybug theorized that one of the characters was a trans man, and Chat Noir seized the opportunity without a second thought. “Oh, like me,” he said, and Ladybug didn’t even blink. She just smiled at him, and he smiled back. Before they parted for the night, she thanked him for trusting her with his secret and promised it was safe with her. “I know, my Lady, I wouldn’t have told you if I thought you wouldn’t.” Nothing even changed between them after that, though Ladybug did seem to talk more openly about queer subjects when they came up.

He came out to other classmates and friends on a case by case basis, with Marinette there for support every time. Nathaniel, Alix, Nino, Rose and Juleka, Kagami. People he could trust entirely to keep it a secret and that he knew weren’t queerphobic from their time knowing each other. He always had some anxiety about it anyways, but with constant unspoken support from Marinette and her parents, it didn’t seem as daunting as before. Nathaniel drew pictures of him with different styles of short hair and more masculine outfits, “for when you’re able to choose your appearance”. Marinette had helped Nathaniel design the outfits, and she had plenty more in her own sketchbook designed just for Adrien. Alix and Nino casually called him “dude” and “bro”, a way to affirm him without actually outing him, since the terms were so casual and usually neutral.

As his support outside of the mansion grew, Adrien realized day after day just how terribly he was treated by his father, and Natalie and the other staff by proxy. Aside from his father’s thinly veiled queerphobia, he also controlled Adrien’s diet, his schedule, his social life, his career, his finances, and almost every aspect of his life. Before going to school, he thought most families were like that. It wasn’t until Alya complained about being saddled with babysitting again and the others lamented with her that three evenings that week was a bit excessive that Adrien realized most of his classmates actually got to decided what they did in their spare time without having to beg for permission. They got to choose what to eat for lunch, some even got to make their own food, and they didn’t have to follow a strict diet. They weren’t constantly afraid of their parents punishing them at the slightest mistake.

He spent more and more time at the Dupain-Cheng’s, at home, they even gave him his own key. More than once they’d woken up early to open the bakery, just to find him curled up on the couch in his clothes from the day before, the throw blanket wrapped tightly around him. Marinette made plenty of casual clothes and loungewear for him, until half of her closet was his. They almost always had a plate of leftovers from dinner with his name on it in the fridge. One afternoon, they surprised Adrien; the room that was formerly the office was converted into a full bedroom with his clothes moved into the closet already. The room was even decorated, soft green and light grey, paintings on the walls, a desk with a silver cat paperweight next to a lamp. Plagg seemed even more excited about it than Adrien was, which was saying a lot because Adrien was over the moon. They really were serious about the “anytime, no questions asked”.

After three years of school and crime fighting, Adrien made the biggest decision in his life. He talked to the bank and a lawyer. He had his rightful savings moved from the account under his father’s surveillance to a brand new private account. He had his friends and real family at his back. And then, he came out to his father. It went about as well as he expected; Gabriel threw a fit, accused Adrien of acting out for attention, and ultimately ended up locking Adrien in his room and forbidding him from going to school. Fortunately for Adrien, he had an escape plan in the form of a magical ring.

He was across the city in a matter of minutes, detransformed, and contacting his lawyer. His emancipation was officially in process. He texted the Dupain-Cheng family chat letting them know he told his father and it didn’t go well, but he was not in the house and he was safe. They were the only ones who knew about his plan, given they were part of it all. Though the idea of living full time with Marinette gave him butterflies, he could ignore his crush for everyone’s comfort.

Before his father or Natalie had a chance to suspend his access to his accounts, he made an Instagram post. A photo of himself, no makeup and his hair pulled back into a bun so it wasn’t so visible, wearing one of the more formal outfits Marinette made for him (a blue suit with a white undershirt and a pink bow tie). It had been taken a few days earlier, in front of a nondescript grey wall in his bedroom, unable to be linked to any location. As the caption, he wrote “Adrien Agreste, he/him, proudly trans! Stay strong, and know you are loved.” He posted it in as many transgender and fashion tags as he could, and was happy to see screenshots of it spreading almost immediately before it was taken down from his own account and his access was cut off. He texted Marinette one last time to tell her he would be unable to contact her over the phone, then turned the phone off, left it on a nearby cafe table, and disappeared down an alley. Thirty seconds later, Chat Noir was vaulting between buildings, headed nowhere in particular.

Stick around for part 2! ♪~ ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug au #trans adrien agreste #sage writes #ml #ml fanfic #uhhhh gabriel agreste could be eaten by a dinosaur and it would still be too good of a fate for him #we feelin the DYSPHORIA 2nite lads

[flightsrsk]

hello hello all !!! my name is riley and this is my actual trash son maverick, aka the flight risk !!! i am so so hyped to get the ball rollin on this, so check out info on my kid under ze cut !!

warning: this got rlly mcfreaking long and i am so sorry fjdklsjs i am incapable of writing a short intro post

unfortunately i will not be able to be around for the official opening bc i’m on vacation w my fam and godparents, but i will try and intermittently read intros and chat to you guys about plots !!!! PLS feel free to bombard me through IMs or through discord if any plot sparks ur interest or u think mav could fit well in one of ur plots!!! :’)

THE BASICS

Name: Maverick Hobbes Braxton

Age: Twenty-one

Gender: Cismale

Pronouns: He/Him

Major & year: Philosophy, Third year

Faceclaim: Alex Fitzalan

Occupation: N/A

THE FLIGHT RISK

Maverick Braxton, as you might see, is an enigma—or rather, has evolved into one, slowly: a transformation that begun with his first breath. In his early years, the stage had been set for him, line by line. Act One: attend prep schools, excel in classes. Act Two: attend Covington, take center stage—you know, all of the things his older brother, Richard had accomplished with ease, just one year prior to all of his expectations. It was simple, really: a blueprint laid out ahead of him, with little to nothing in his way.

The only problem was that Maverick didn’t exactly see the point in choosing that path, that stage, that story. To him, it wasn’t challenging.

That, and the fact that the life laid out in front of him offered him absolutely nothing.

A series of banal expectations, unfair comparisons, and heartbreaking betrayals, and the traditional life of the Braxton child was thrown out the window—at least, in his brain, it was. See, Maverick Braxton, while independent, coy, and arrogant, isn’t stupid. He knows if he pleases his parents just enough, they’ll still distribute his trust fund and still bail him out of legal trouble when he inevitably tiptoes too far down the delicate line between ambition and rebellion. Perhaps it’s a bit selfish, but what does he owe to a family who paid him no attention, who never asked of his well-being, his own ambitions, his personal dreams?

He’s the kind of person to drive down the highway, windows rolled all the way down, cigarette lit—not because he necessarily likes the taste of nicotine, but because he likes the way the smoke creates clouds that obscure reality. He’ll surprise you in class when he interjects with a sarcastic but surprisingly salient point before throwing up his hood and retreating to the back corner for the rest of class. He’s the kind of person to start reading a book, flipping incessantly through the pages, both impatient by the pace of the plot, yet put it down before he reaches the final pages because he doesn’t want to be disappointed by the ending. He’s the kind of artist who rarely finishes a sketch, the writer who is never satisfied by a poem—for fear, of course, by deep-rooted insecurities that nothing that he will ever do will be enough.

A once-broken heart had taken time to mend, even though it seems ice-cold and whole from the outside. It’s why he has commitment issues: he doesn’t want to be burned again. He plays off his flirtatious bit as a personality trait, someone who is bored by the prospect of being tied down—and yet those who share his bed might consider him Covington’s most surprisingly deep pillow-talker.

An enigma, you see—one who doesn’t stick around long enough for anyone to truly understand, truly a Flight Risk.

BIOGRAPHY:

( You can read his full biography here! Still in the process of editing it a bit, but below are some important bullet points! )

Maverick was born the second of three children to the Braxton family—and as per usual with the Braxton children, he was born into a life filled to the absolute brim of expectation.

His father, a playwright, his mother, an actress. His brother, a theatre prodigy—what part did that leave him to play? The assumed expectations were to follow in his mother and brothers’ footsteps and take center stage; he excelled, for a while, but Maverick always felt lost.

Neighbors and family friends would always ask if he had measured up, in each and every shape and form: it was like the entire universe had a scoreboard with their names titling each section, and Maverick was always playing catch-up, never knowing where the finish line was.

For a while, he stuck to the script that was given to him: study, succeed, repeat. He tried to understand the ins and outs of his father’s work, of masterful acting techniques, trying to make a large enough splash to where his family would even notice the work he put into his life. Surprise: it didn’t.

It took him seventeen years to truly understand that his role in life was not exactly the story his parents had laid out for him, but rather, his sibling, instead.

Downcast emotions transformed quickly into cynicism. What used to make him feel sad now fueled a blue fire within Maverick’s chest, one that felt wronged by the system he was placed in: a complete first-world problem, but it was then and there when he decided to take advantage of his situation, given that he had spent his entire life dedicated to a part he wouldn’t play.

Hypocritical as he was, he still enjoyed the fruits of his parents’ work, cashing the unlimited checks with his name on them, as if it was some sort of sick version of love.

One piece of recognition that Maverick finally earned was an acceptance to Covington—and even that couldn’t be tainted by his brother’s success or his legacy status.

At Covington, Maverick has both lost and found his footing, multiple times. He’s quit acting, quit studying theater, in favor of a topic that stimulates his brain more than reading lines and

PERSONALITY:

Maverick Braxton is certainly a paradox. He’s charismatic, funny, and has a witty sense of humor –– and is generally appreciated by his peers because he’s able to move conversation and discussion without making topics seem dry.

Despite his apparent inferiority to his sibling, the Braxton family still breeds the cream of the crop. He’s certainly a bit arrogant sometimes, given that he’s intelligent, innovative, and clever, and wants to be recognized for it –– however, even if he might not show it on the outside, he appreciates a good challenger. He thinks it keeps his wit sharp, and of course, his ego would never show it, but he does appreciate learning from people. After all, his passion in philosophy, his current area of study, makes him certainly interested in how the world works.

Those who happen to get to know Maverick outside of the surface-level stuff, outside the initial cockiness and flirtatious front he puts on will know that he’s actually quite thoughtful. His lonely childhood has made him extremely loyal to those who have shown him similar trust and friendship –– he would never turn his back on them.

He asks probing questions, is a good listener –– perhaps because he’s interested in human decision making, but is also because he doesn’t quite know what it’s like to be loved unconditionally –– though he wants to.

Deep down, what almost no one knows is that he’s really quite soft. He passes his curiosity off as wanting to understand people, when really it’s a mechanism for hoping someone asks him questions in return, to give him the time of day he wished his parents ( and the rest of the goddamned universe ) had given him.

Despite his theatre prowess, he isn’t actually a particularly good liar. Those who spend enough time around him can hear his tone of voice incline slightly and see him scratch his brow.

AESTHETICS:

coffee-stained mugs, walking with headphones in but nothing playing, untied shoelaces, black hoodies, a cheeky smirk, small books in his back pocket, writing in the margins, unfinished poems, quoting old authors on a daily basis, incessant eye-rolling, pen ink stains, an unmade bed, mismatched socks, floral ties, empty bottles of liquor, rose thorn pricks, old worn poetry books, polished dress shoes, calloused fingers, unlit cigarettes between teeth.

HEADCANONS:

Funnily enough, Maverick’s name means ‘independent, a noncomformist’, which is exactly the path that he has taken to stray away from his family’s expectations.

He does have one strong connection to his family, though: his grandmother, on his father’s side. She understands the pressure he undergoes, who saw the pressure Maverick’s father endured to obtain the success he has. She is one of the only reasons that Maverick has not just jetted off to take on his own adventure. He loves her dearly, and wishes that her empathy and wisdom would rub off on the rest of his family.

Maverick has some form of synesthesia, which allows him to remember a lot more than the average person. He associates colors, smells, sounds, to words –– and allows him to efficiently study any subjects he doesn’t have immediate passion for.

In the privacy of his own bedroom, he sometimes writes poetry and sketches his thoughts and muses –– when he knows he’s in complete privacy. Faces and features that appear in his sketchbooks are often those he’s thinking of often, those who intrigue him. He’s actually quite good a sketching, maybe not quite as good at writing poetry.

His room is spotless –– evidence that he is a bit of a control freak sometimes. It shows that during his adolescence, he reveled in the parts of his life that he could control and perfect.

tw drugs. He more than dabbles in drug use, smoking marijuana maybe every other day, while partaking in harder drugs like cocaine and adderall and others probably once a week. He feels like he’s in control of his use, but it may start to get the best of him. end tw.

Maverick is left-handed. He hates that he gets pen ink stains when he draws, writes poetry, takes notes. His left palm is probably perennially covered with ink.

Though he’s often wearing headphones ( airpods, of course, the nerve of this rich kid ), half the time, nothing’s playing. Sometimes he forgets to press play on his phone, sometimes he purposely likes listening to decision-making and conversations of strangers. it lets him think about the nature of mankind.

Maverick’s favorite philosopher is Albert Camus, known for his work that heavily developed the idea of absurdism ( much to do with the meaning of life, and human inability to discern an answer ).

Maverick’s preferred method of transportation is his skateboard. he loved it first because his parents hated it: pushing himself around on a board like that would get him injured—besides, why not just take the car to school, the driver had been paid for anyway? It was his first taste of rebellion. Now at Covington, where skateboarding is far more efficient than walking across campus, it comes in handy when he sees someone he’d rather not stop and chat to.

Maverick could die with a poetry book nestled on his chest—it’s the one thing he got out of the impressive book collection his family owned. There was something daunting and beautiful about the way poems would transform metaphors into something fantastical, like the emotions were clearly there, but the words were skirting the issue. Kind of like how his parents would never really tell him they loved him.

Maverick often has headphones in when he walks to class. not particularly because he’s actually listening to music or a podcast, but rather because he’d just … rather not be bothered to stop and talk to people.

Maverick loves to draw. He’s mostly self-taught, with a bit of mentorship from his high school art teacher. Evidenced by the rest of his fleeting personality, he rarely finishes a sketch or painting. He claims he never has time to finish them, but the number of crumbled-up, half-finished sketches in his trash bin might say otherwise.

PLOTS

** see my wanted plots tag here too! // and my plots page here !!

* FIRST LOVE / OPEN.

It wouldn’t be easy to make Maverick feel like even more of a disappointment than he already had with his parents, his family—but your muse proved this feeling wrong. He loved them, more than he’d ever loved anything before. In the midst of confusion about where he belonged, he felt safe with your muse; he’d do anything for them. Things ended, he felt betrayed ( though the break-up could have easily been due to a fault of his ), and the split made him the one who now struggles fully with commitment. He doesn’t want to have his heart broken again. See: this entire pinterest board.

but also if u give me this ……………… i’ll name my firstborn after u

* BEST FRIEND / OPEN.

Those who go through similar childhood traumas are often able to understand each other –– that was how it worked with Maverick and your muse, at least. They’re thick as thieves — and have likely seen the ups and downs of Maverick’s life in real time.

* CHILDHOOD FRIENDS / OPEN.

Self explanatory—and also probably knows about the pressures the Braxton family imposes on their children.

* EX-FRIENDS / OPEN.

Friends who were close, close no longer. Maverick’s a real piece of work, and an asshole, too—there are myriad possibilities for why Maverick could have pushed them away. He wouldn’t openly admit that he misses being around your muse, but he certainly would feel a bit of guilt given that they’re no longer the closest of friends.

* MOMENT OF WEAKNESS / OPEN.

Your muse, in whatever unfortunate setting, saw a glimpse of Maverick’s soft side that hardly ever makes an appearance. He’s not going to let them tell the world about his vulnerabilities, though. Not a chance.

* DISLIKED / OPEN.

Maverick is sarcastic, cold, and sometimes emotionless. It’s not surprising that not everyone gets along with the middle Braxton. The possibilities are endless—throw in some sexual tension and I’d actually fall at ur feet.

* PREVIOUS ROOMMATES / OPEN.

Your muse, at one point, probably knew Maverick better than everyone else at Covington. They overheard some of his phone calls with his parents, saw his notes for how he was to achieve his life goals, heard him crying in the middle of the night when he thought your muse was asleep. They could be extremely close now, as in one of the few people Maverick opens up to, or could be distant friends who know about one anothers’ struggles. The possibilities are endless, tbh.

+ ANYTHING LEGITIMATELY ……… IF U THINK THERE’S POSSIBILITY FOR SOMETHING COOL W MAV AND UR MUSE. SIGN ME THE F UP. THANKS.

#tw:drugs #tw:smoking #tw:flashing lights #covintro #// PLS HMU WITH PLOTS OK FDJKLSJSD I HATE I AM MISSING OPENING BUT I WANT ALL THE PLOTS

[renaer-is-allegedly-hot]

session 11 notes (i’ll fix them one day but i’m agro this was tea hate this)

Two minute one shot while dom pees

Adam has a floaty tube

Asyna can't turn into a hippo

Giant seahorse

Jane austen

Elizabethh and darcy my hands are shaking

Dom has 4e books

Dom was pretty out of it last session

It's afternoon

Dom is toasty

In jacob's other campaign a goat bit off his penis so the goat's name is richard byter

"at first the goat was reluctant"

"what a goat"

Last week on dragon heist

We were meandering through the city

"one of you met with an old friend, briefly"

Zoo time

Aerana knows where the zoo is in the sea ward

Raised brick gate w high walls; on top are intricate metal railing spiked stuff

Entrance is v wide, not too many people going in bc it's raining a lot

Maybe

Apparently the weather is super important and I still don't know why the weather is so important

It is currently raining

Pouring

Ticket booth in the front

Gold piece per person

Botanic repository

We walk up to the booth covering ourselves w the hoods we have

Velvet rope line but we just navigate through it like in shrek

Adam goes first

Walks in and see smiling figure, human male middle-aged, heavyset, festive outfit, "thank you for visiting - oH how's it going?!" it's volo

He's doing research for his newest obok

Hi jacob's dad

Jacob's gonna go fishing

Volo under impression he would be one of zoological experts but no

"recommendations?"

They brought monsters in from the isle of chault

Points us off to the exhibit to go

Originally zoo was not a zoo as we think of but like throwing them in a pit and being like look at them think httyd

Now it's closer to what we'd consider a modern day zoo

Lots of foliage

It's a big zoo

Like the San diego zoo

Or disneyland

Dom talks abt his brother's haircut

We can run through it

Can asyna just sprint

Aerana and asyna r gonna run

Adam cel and theo r gonna not run

Most of the zoo taken up by exhibits devoted to the island

Looking in the entryway a lot of ppl r carrying pamphlets n papers and speaking in foreign tongues like tourists or smth ig

Adam casts disguise self to make him look as fancy as everyone else

Has feathered cloak

Three major pathways

Chault exhibits for weird stuff r left

Marine stuff and some chault r forward

To the right r monsters from the interior continent

Adam cel and theo (?) go to the right

Most ppl r in pairs

A lot of biologist-type ppl; ppl who look like they're used to handling animals

First real exhibit on the right is a human woman inside the exhibit throwing down pieces of meat to lions

Is asyna a moon druid ? Yes

How did the human woman get there ? But she doesn’t notice

"does this zoo have dippin dots" - lillian 2020

Perception check, 15

There r ppl selling stuff, sees dejected gnome sitting under a pedal cart w a dingy umbrella and he's grumpy n angry

Adam walks over to him

Selling diff snacks n refreshments

He's mostly selling a fizzle pop

Strawberry flavor, blueberry, butterfly flavor

"are ur fizzle pops made w organic butterflies ? Bc I'm kinda on a diet rn"

Adam says it's disgusting

"I'll have a blueberry thank you"

Cel is gonna try the butterfly one

It's sweet; doesn't taste like blood but does taste almost nutty

So like what I would think pistachio tastes like

Fun size popsicle

Theo gets strawberry

They go to the next exhibit

A really vertical exhibit

 Oneshot

Cel is gonna try and ride seahorse asyna but rolls a nat 1 for acrobatics and then a nat 1 for dex save

Smashes head on rim of the pool, bleeding out and unconscious

Healing words from adam

Climbs out of the pool

The water is now red

Three children on the other side of the pool

One of them gets really excited and pees when adam tells them that there's a chemical that turns pool water red

Asyna left the pool when the kid peed

Asyna leads everyone over to the hospital

Adam is gonna try and healing words fix cel

Cel is back to full health

One of the kids is crying scared when she finds out the water is blood

Theo is gonna go get the kids ?

Ok back to the zoo

There's a hippo exhibit

We go check it out

On the way there run into different typical zoo stuff

Apes

Monkeys

The younger ppl r around these exhibits

A lot of closed sections bc of weather like "don't worry next winter this animal will be back"

Alligators

Ringtails that r lemurs ringtail lemurs

Birds

Carefully curated trees that r uber high

Hawks and giant eagles

Oops my phone froze

Tap on the glass to say hi to the what now

Theo wants it to come say hi to her

Animal handling check, 10

Can't attract their attention but

The hippos

Asyna has speak with animals LMAO

Basically can't talk to worms

No more tapeworm talk :/

"Theo says hi . This is theo"

"everybody gangsta until they find out jacob thinks barney is a hippo" - dom 2020

Colombian drug lord one time built private zoos and the hippos broke out but now there's a hippo problem in colombia

Pablo escovar

Speak with animals is ten minutes

We're also probably fighting later

We're gonna talk to the hippos

Theo waves

One of them paddles over and tries to sniff

"hm . Can you eat it ?"

"pleaes don't"

 I just remembered seaweed is not a plant it's an algae

This hippo does not have a name

Calls sister sister

"ask about juicy hippo gossip" - adam

"no but if I did I would share it"

Originally zoo was place for research

Anything else to ask hippos before we check out rare animals ?

The hippo floats away and we say bye

To the chault exhibits

Getting late but there r a lot more researchers

First exhibit has a lot of strange, unfamiliar trees

Monkeys w really big fluffy sideburns clustering around overhanging branches bc it's raining

Some of them r taking leaves and using them to keep the rain off

One of the monkeys hops off the branch

The sideburns actually extend into wings and it goes to another branch

"it's like the wizard of oz"

"adam what's the wizard of oz"

Flying monkeys

Adam walks over to a researcher and asks the most must-see

Woman who is probably from chault bc wearing strange woven beret w branches n stuff

Alien to anything they've seen

"I would point you in the direction of the behemoths"

"what are behemoths"

Adam rolls nature check

9, he doesn't know what a behemoth is

She is from chault

Behemoths r considered friends there

Asyna and aerana know where chault is

Everyone else just knows chault is v far away, almost like a nightmare story told to children

Described as a hellscape

"I'd sooner go to chault than-"

Asyna and aerana know chault is a massive island to the sw of the sword coast, home to v tropical, intensely humid climate w lots of rain + some invasions in the past but now things r opening up

We're gonna check out the behemoths

From a distance, this exhibit much larger than others, much more heavily excavated

Not so much walls as railing looking into a deep cavern

All manner of plant life brought in to accommodate the creatures

Huge lizard of some kind

Huge size category

Irl a horse is large

Humans and dwarves are medium

Exhibit says it's a macetail behemoth

Ground trembles w each step of the behemoth

Slow, ponderous

Gigantic armored lizard w tough plating on its back and spikes on the sides of its head w bony, protective coverings all over it

Massive swinging tail protruding bone swinging back and forth as it walks

Looks like that one dinosaur

We would call it an ankylosaurus

Things that go over my head : see description bullet points before this

Tail end of speak with animals

Asyna can turn into dinosaurs

"you look really cool do you have a name"

One of them looks up but doesn't really respond

Doesn't answer

Look for velociraptors

Gonna look at all the exhibits

Spirehorn behemoths

Faces almost look like shields

Triceratops

Alien to us tho

I can't believe that like as dom's explaining these everyone else can like ,, imagine it

Like that's crazy they see pictures inside their heads

Feathered behemoths

Occasionally jump around

Claws and walk around on two legs

Bloodspike behemoth

Stegosaurus, baby and two parents

Asyna can turn into a deinonychus

We have enough time for one more exhibit

We see a creature alone in its pen save for two researchers dropping treats in front of it, other has a pickaxe and is tapping the ground and scooping smth up trailing the creature and brushing it into a bin

Creature reflects rainbow of colors ? I think

Huge snail, has three eyestalks but they kind of droop down and have heavy spikes off each individual one

Cel reads description

Flail snail?

It's a big boi

Described not as a beast but as something that comes from a realm of earth

As it moves it excretes glass

Generally docile but if prodded r really dangerous bc the things it has r more weapons than eyes

Adam asks if it's a petting exhibit

The flail snail is just as slow as a regular snail

"that is the most disgusting magic resistance I've ever seen in my entire life" - jacob 2020

Everything starting to shut down

We realize we should probs skedaddle

Time to find loser boy

Rain has not stopped but has kinda calmed down

Heading straight to the wig shop

Lamps in the trades ward r lit

Brighter than what we've seen recently

Adam peers into the shop

Perception check

6, tries to get water off the window, looks empty

Theo's gonna pick the lock

25, it's a simple lock and theo gets it open easily

Shop is empty

Somewhat eerie for those without darkvision bc the mannequins

Cel will go and investigate the back room, door is locked

Theo tries opening again

23, opens easily

Immediately smells weird powder

A lot of the perfumes for preserving dyes n stuff kept back here

Cel makes a perception check

16

V organized, neat and tidy

Manhole cover in the back

Sewer system v advanced in waterdeep but also means there's a lot of it

A lot of ppl will build over sewer openings bc cheaper real estate

"sewer access authorized city officials only"

Adam rolls nat20 for boxes

Looking for anything necromancy related, licking things, doing all manners of investigation

Feels a small leather sack, pulls it out, kinda heavy

Opens it up, sees coins that are kind of heavier and thicker; not silver, 5 platinum pieces

Platinum is 10 gp each

Could take the platinums

Scry the money and sack

There are cupboards at the front desk

Necromancy considered suspicious, looked down upon

"ah . It's like watching anime ." - jacob 2020

"no, it's not like watching anime" - dom 2020

The art itself is not a crime but the things that occur in tandem w it r usually crimes

Discussing what to do in character

Cel insight check, 16

Earlier dom mentioned we're aware many ppl in waterdeep use the sewers to traverse unseen in the city; kinda suss the building was built on top of a sewer

Adam is borrowing aerana's warhammer

Adam hits the floor, leaves big dent and a v loud sound

Cel makes strength check w advantage w crowbar

Rolls a 12, can't get it open

Can sort of shift it up

Adam smashes a jar over the floor

Dex check, 5

Cloud of neon yellow sprays out like a cloud of dust and smoke, just the color

Covered in bright yellow dye

Theo tries lockpicking

23, lock is more difficult and takes a little longer, but eventually it opens

Once it's opened, the chains undo themselves and snake out on their own accord

It's just a dark hole

Can see a short drop that leads to a staircase

Adam holds lantern

Cel's just gonna go w adam at the front, pitch dark

Darkvision lets us see to some extent; everything is in grayscale

Lantern beam does help us see a little

Asyna closer to front as well

Leads to a room, 10' x 20'

Descending down short flight of stairs, room totally bare save for a barred door that u can see out of, also locked

Hear faintly some water

Theo rolls 23 for lockpicking

Door opens

Adam investigating room for secret door, tunnel, anything

Investigation check, 10 and 5 for investigation checks

Look around but room is barren

Nothing stashed anywhere, nothing to indicate a secret door or anything

Adam and cel step out, to immediate right extends for 10ish feet before merging into wall

Directly in front is water and like a sewer river flowing to the right

"are there any rats" "make a perception check" "nat 1"

To left, passage curves so hard to see but for at least 40 or so feet the pathway continues

Adam rolls another 5 for investigation check

We eventually get to a small stone bridge

I FORGOT I RESEARCHED THE SEWER SYSTEMS idk if I should bring it up I brought it up

A 15 intelligence check

Waterdeep's sewers are a subject of fascination for the city

You know the passageway like the one ur in often has arteries or iron doors set in them leading to different areas

Also know sometimes due to poor planning or smth some areas without walkways also have access tunnels

There's a bridge ? Nasty water under it

Over the bridge we go

Cel rolls a 22, plenty of damp areas around ,, no light in the passage, walking for a minute or so and w each step just hear a wet squelching noise; we're leaving behind wet, muddy footprints

No sign of recent mud in front of us

10 minutes go by and every once in a while pass side arteries w more sewage flowing in

This part seems relatively well planned

Can only go straight ? No other curvature in the path

Traveling south

"I'm gonna try and get that rat" - adam 2020

Adam picks up the rat for sleight of hand check

22

"you're able to grab up that rat pretty good" - dom 2020

Adam holds rat out to asyna and tells her to do her thing

"hey buddy"

"uh you have to cast your spell first"

"hey pal how's it going"

"let me go"

"uh we'll let you go if you answer some of our questions"

"don't even"

"no he's saying don't eat him"

"my friend here holding you is gonna take a big chomp of you if you don't answer our questions"

"have you seen anyone"

"don't know"

"I open my mouth"

"I kind of want to squeak" - marguerite 2020

Rat points north

Adam wants a piece of string to tie onto the rat like a leash

Adam is starting to feel short of breath after 10 minutes of walking

"that's either from the powder . Or the key"

Adam doesn't feel indigestion right now just that it's difficult to get air

Adam tries to tie a leash to the rat

Dex check

Nat1

Rat runs away

We go back the way we came, another 10 minutes, we pass three of those stone bridges

Cel investigation checks the dead end again, adam will give bardic inspiration

"Open sesame" - song

18, nothing there

It's a maze, we'll try naya

Adam takes out sack of platinum

Naya appears, looks around and shudders and bounds away

Following the deer

Naya is guiding back to where we originally where

Moving south again

Looks at passage back again passage then vanishes

Naya was standing on one of the bridges

First artery

It's a passage

We gotta wade through the sewer

Aerana readies weapon

Wading through, halflings get disgusting smth in their boots

Passage goes 20 ft before turning on a diagonal, turn onto passageway then it extends v far into distance

"adam's adding to the sewage right now probably" - jacob 2020

Adam's feeling lightheaded

Cel makes medicine check on adam

Rolls a 6, don't know what's wrong bud

Adam rolls around in the sewer water to get the powder off ??

I guess he is

Adam makes a constitution save, a 3

OH? OH NO

The yellow stuff is off but adam is smeared in shit

Did I make a good or bad decision

We keep going but adam feels better like fine like nothing's wrong

Oh no adam's gonna die it's like hypothermia where u feel super hot at first then u die

Passageway stretches on for awhile until coming across a rusty ironed door raised so that we'd have to step up to access it

Aerana makes perception check on the door, 20 not a nat

Hears people shouting and what appears to be a cat

Can't tell if the shouting is bad or not

Theo wrings out cape

Go up to the door, realize there's no lock; the entire lock has fallen out bc the door is so rusty

Adam checks door for traps, 12 investigation

Does not appear to be trapped, looks p old

Adam is in middle, cel towards back, aerana at front

About 25' ahead is a wider chamber and a door set into the wall, the areas are lit

We already walked through the rusty door

Massive screeching sound that came from the door when u opened it

Gotta b stealthy

Door to the right is unlocked

Adam opens the door open, looks like a storage room w different crates and sacks; bland

Some water barrels, adam pours it on himself; the rest of us also do it

Moving into room adjacent to passageway; triangle things in the wall has arrow stuff to make it easier to fire from but the room looks abandoned

Deeper in we go

Don't go that far but hit a wider room extending out 40'

Center of the room; at one point looks like there was a wall covering the room but has since collapsed; several ppl looking at us

Far corner opposite to us is an old halfling man in dark robes, clutching wound at chest, long gray braid down back staring at us as if he heard we were coming

In front of him are two smiling skeletons

It's the necromancer

The skeletons r also looking at us

They appear to be guarding him

In front of skeletons are three kenku looking at us

Bingbong is not one of the kenku

"I can explain" - adam

"we came down here and I was covered in shit and" adam casts pyrotechnics centered in between skeletons and kenku

Initiative

Aerana, 19

Cel, 17

Asyna, 15

Adam, 15

Theo, 9

Aerana

Holds attack, if kenku move within 5 ft of her she'll attack

Cel

Skeletons have bows and shortswords

Kenkus have shortswords

Will hold an action if attacked

Skeletons

Appear to b human skeletons, medium size

Lash out at kenku

One kenku able to parry away an attack, other skeleton slashes another kenku

Asyna

Attacks kenku closest to her, the one not hit

15, "what are you attacking with" "iiiiiiiii don't knowwwwwwwwwww"

Asyna turns into ape

Runs up to terrified kenku

Swings both times but it gets out of the way and hisses like a cat

Adam

Casts pyrotechnics on kenku

One passes, one fails

Failed one is blinded for next turn

Cutting words on the kenku by asyna

Kenku

Blind

Tries to escape, skeleton misses and kenku staggers away and starts feeling way along wall and runs into room west of where we are

Other one

Makes attack on skeleton, half of ribcage slashed but it's still standing

Other other one

Tries to attack ape, misses

Halfling

Stands up, tries to flee

Theo

Hits kenku that tried to get asyna, 5 damage

Has sneak attack, deals 12 damage

Arrow shot into neck, still alive but not for long

Aerana

13 damage to other kenku

"how do you want to do this"

Kenku drops dead

Skeleton turns smiling to aerana

Cel

15 to hit, 6 damage, dead

"how do you want to do this"

Pulls arrow back as far as she can "and I don't know if it's bingbong, but I'm gonna pretend it's bingbong and shoot it right through his eye socket"

"I want to keep bingbong as a pet" - jacob 2020

"kenku are sentient beings, that would be slavery" - dom 2020

Looking around we see the bodies of three other kenku and remains of two other skeletons

The skeletons attack aerana

One hits, 3 damage

Asyna

Goes into the room to follow the halfling and the kenku

Some kind of exit around

The blinded kenku is in here

Can reach halfling or kenku

Marguerite wants to hug the halfling

Athletics check to do it

21

Old man screams but asyna can hold him, unable to escape

Kenku still feeling around on the floor

Adam

Follows asyna

Gonna cast sleep

Kenku falls asleep

Yells over at the halfling

"can you call off your skeletons please"

Halfling

Loser boy's turn

I don't remember how to spell losser unless it's losser

Tries to escape asyna's grasp

"he does not escape your grasp"

Asyna rolls another athletics check

17, he does not escape

Theo

14 to hit, 16 damage

"how do you want to do this"

Arrow to the skull just goes really far in and the skull falls off as do misc bones

Aerana

Misses hit

Tries to thrust forward w sword but it drops and contracts, sword slipping through ribcage

Cel

19 to hit

8 damage, hits shoulder and arm falls off

Skeleton

Misses

Asyna

Waddles the halfling over to adam

Gives him a little squeeze

Adam

baned halfling

And cutting words

No cutting words nvm

Halfling

Asyna rolls a 25

Can't squirm out

"unhand me there are more of them there are more kenku"

Theo

"ok. Bye bye skeleton boy"

22 to hit

12 damage

"how do you want to do this"

Hits him in the smile; teeth knocked out and all of it collapses like a xylophone type noise as the bones hit the floor

Out of combat

Aerana ties up sleeping kenku

Adam casts charm person

Cel is gonna loot

Investigation check, 7

10 gold combined on the kenku; takes

Halfling is charmed to consider adam a dear old friend

Says he just finished work on his new purse; his fanny pack (basically)

Not sure we recognize the material

Adam says he knows who sent the kenku

"you have the stone"

"they stole it from me"

Says he randomly found a nice stone from a rat

Adam puts his hand on loser boy's shoulder and asks if he wants to work from home

Trying to convince loser boy to come with us

Declines

The purse is made out of elf skin

Bc it's supple

Adam trying to get a magical weapon out of loser boy

Has a potion that protects from necromancers

Persuasion check, 24

Goes into side closet

Damage resist potion

Aerana kills him

Wow are you ?? Desensitized ?? Are you desensitized or does it help not being able to see anything ever

Adam rummages through loser boy's desk

Investigation check, 15

False bottom to one of the desk drawers w 100 gold inside

Cel investigation checks loser boy, 13

Finds a little wand w a skull tip

Adam is gonna look at the purse

This bag is a faint gold

Adam shakes the kenku awake, wisdom 13 saving throw

Fails

Charm person

Making dog noises

"you want to take us to your friends"

"I don't know where they are"

"then let's just go back to your base"

"get back to base ? No one knows where that is"

Adam introduces himself, mentions bingbong

Gets theo and cel's names, mimics sound of a hammer hitting metal when asked his name

His name is bonk now

Asks asyna's name, asyna is still an ape

Big hairy git

Aerana says she'll trade information for her name

Adam swings warhammer into ground to threaten kinda

Adam makes 12 insight check

We don't recognize any of the voices he uses

Asks if we live in a hole

Asks if the house is nice

Copies adam's voice for the house boom

Adam asks if he knows about the puppet

"couldn't tell you if I knew"

Nat20 adam runs insight check across entire conversation

He's lying abt not knowing where his friends are

I DFJGSLGJS THAT'S WHAT I WAS SAYING ABT US STILL GIVING UP INFORMATION ASFKJAFD

Adam asks him why he was lying

Hear a voice we've never heard before

But this one in particular is bizarre and warped as if it's through some filter

"do you know what happens when you lie to me"

Adam

Anyone w passive perception over 9 hears a bottle break and a door slam in one of the rooms to the south

Cel hits his brain basically

Some of you starting to piece together that smth strange is happening

Pattering of footsteps from room to the south

Session over for the night

#i'll fix these later i swear #sn #11 #dnd #d&d #wdh #i'm gonna fight #salty