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#eyeliner streaming dramatically down his face
clownprince · 1 year
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The Batman (2022) slapped for multiple reasons but one of the main ones being that Reeves and Pattinson clearly understand that authentic Batman is not a male power fantasy, but actually one of the most pathetic and embarrassing men of all time. In this essay I will
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whoreanghae · 2 years
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question...? ; chwe hansol
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genre - non-idol au, reunited, childhood best friends, friends to lovers
wordcount - 2.3k
disclaimers - mention of alcohol, lowercase on purpose, no proofreading, reader gender not specified, fic under the cut
a/n - hiiiiii here is a small vern fic loosely based on question...? from taylor swift's new album :P mainly just the chorus. hope u enjoy yippeeeee
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you laughed at daisy as she used her hairbrush as a microphone while she sang along to her music in the mirror. sitting on her bed watching her get ready was always your pre-party ritual. she was invited to a halloween party that one of her friends was throwing at their frat house, which was something you would never find yourself even considering if it weren’t for daisy. its not that you were sheltered or a homebody, you just found yourself not fully immersing into the party scene. but, a party here or there with daisy always proved itself to be a good idea. mostly.
daisy focused intently on her face in the mirror as she worked hard trying to draw skeleton makeup. whereas you just simply put together some clothes you already had and decided to be a baseball player. you had suggested she take the easy route and just match with you, but she had apparently practiced her skeleton makeup all week. you had no idea where she found the time to do this between all of her classes, but her art degree does tie in to her halloween costume in some degree. you dramatically flopped back onto her bed as daisy’s playlist transitioned between songs.
“who’s even going to this party anyways?” you didnt look up from your phone as you awaited her response. “well you know soonyoung. him and a bunch of his friends are in a frat. they throw parties all the time but the holiday ones are always better anyways.” you had met soonyoung briefly before through daisy. she met him in one of their shared courses. they were, in your opinion, the closest you could get to two of the same exact people. with their shared interests, senses of humour, and basically identical personalities, they were bound to be best friends. “oh, and his friends are really hot. like, really hot. maybe we’ll find you a man tonight?” she put the cap on her eyeliner pencil and stepped back from the mirror, admiring the final product. you rolled your eyes playfully and sat up. “why are you so obsessed with me finding a man? youre single too, remember.” you gave her an accusatory look, but she just brushed you off. “for me its different. how does this look?” she posed as you gave her a small clap for her hard work. you both laughed as you got up and started gathering everything and getting ready to leave.
you swore you could feel the music as you pulled onto the street of the frat house. the windows were ablaze with rainbow lights streaming out, and halloween decorations flooding the entire outside. there were cars lined down the street, and daisy pulled up behind one a couple houses down the street. she checked her makeup in the car mirror before turning the car off and gathering her things. you shoved your phone and house keys into your pocket as you stepped out onto the sidewalk, waiting for daisy to join you. walking in front of her car, she flashed you a smile as you both headed into the party.
the music blared as you opened the door. the party wasn’t totally packed, but it was a moderate amount of people. daisy greeted people youd never seen as she waded through the crowd to either find soonyoung or the drink table, whichever came first. although the party wasnt extremely packed, it was easy to lose daisy. but it always was. she had a habit of randomly disappearing at parties. part of you began to believe it was her plan all along, basically forcing you to meet new people and make new friends. you looked away for a second and when you looked back, she was gone. so, you might as well just venture off on your own. you managed to find the drink table before she did, so you mixed yourself a drink and tried to seek out someone you may know. daisy introduces you to her friends and classmates often, but finding the people you remember begins to prove itself to be harder than you once thought.
you turn a corner and collide directly with the chest of someone slightly taller than you are. the stumble leads to your drink spilling all over your shirt. you laugh awkwardly as the person you bumped into apologizes profusely. you glance up and see a guys face hidden behind a masquerade mask. he mumbles something about helping and lightly holds your wrist, dragging you through the crowd. you follow him blindly through a hallway and into one of the rooms in the house, assuming its his bedroom. so he must be one of soonyoungs friends? you dont get much time to react before he lays a plain white t-shirt in your hands. even behind the mask, you can see the sympathetic look on his face. “it might ruin the purpose of your costume but.. at least you won’t have to be all sticky?” you both laugh at the unintentional innuendo of what he said, but you thank him lots before finding a vacant bathroom and sneaking in to change into the mystery man’s shirt.
you keep replaying his words in your head. more specifically his laugh. while you cant quite put a finger on it, he sounds too familiar to leave it to a simple coincidence. as you look in the mirror wearing his shirt, a lightbulb flickers on in your mind. is mystery man… not a mystery at all?
“stop!”
you were breathless from laughing. your stomach was in stitches as you collapsed onto the floor of vernon’s room. he had been doing the same stupid impression of your history teacher that always made you laugh. he knew just the thing to cheer you up after anything happened. he lays down on the floor next to you. you turn your head towards him as he pulls you closer and you lay your head on his chest. he runs an arm up and down your back as you both lay on the worn down carpet in silence. 
being with vernon was effortless. he cared about you more than he cared about anyone else, even himself. he’d do anything to see you smile, and proved this daily. vernon gave you a comfort that you’d never felt with anyone else. so when he found out that his family were moving across the country in your last year of high school, he had to find the best way to tell you. he wanted to be the person who always made you happy, how could he cause you this sadness? 
vernon cleared his throat as he spoke. “i have to tell you something. i wish i didn’t, but i know that it’s better to tell you sooner than later.” as he said this, you sat up and furrowed your brows as you looked down at him. and that’s when he broke the news. you tried to remain strong but you knew that you couldn’t hold it in forever. you cried into vernons shoulder as he promised the two of you would stay in touch.
and you did. for a couple months. after that, school for both of you got busier and then you had to worry about university and your following careers. all the things you had both planned to do together, you had to navigate on your own. it was hard. but you made it. both of you made it. 
you had never expected to run into vernon again. especially not like this. did he remember you? or did he just do this favour for you out of the kindness of his own heart? at this point, it had been 4 years since you and vernon were last in contact. standing in the bathroom, you kept replaying the moment in your mind over and over again. the laugh. vernon’s laugh. having to explain this to someone, you set out to find daisy as soon as possible. you ended up finding her in the kitchen speaking to someone, and you gave them a quick smile as you dragged her away into the bathroom you had just left.
“i have a situation.” you gave her a serious look, but she was just confused. and a little tipsy. she tilted her head, as if signaling you to continue with more of your story. “you remember me telling you about vernon right? my high school best friend, had crazy feelings, probably would have dated if he didn’t move away in our last year of high school?” daisy nodded along, still not understanding where you were going with all of this. “well hes here. in this frat. at this party.” and this is where daisy finally got caught up. she was taken aback, but then excitement took over. “oh my god are you serious? did he remember you? are you guys gonna live happily ever after? did he faint when he saw how hot you are now?” maybe she was a bit more than tipsy. you put your hands on her shoulders to steady her and explain how you had barely spoken to him, so you had no way of knowing if he actually remembered you or not. she obviously was adamant that you go find him immediately and rekindle your old flame. the thought made you nervous, but the idea of the regret if you didn’t do it outweighed your nervousness. daisy gave you a pep talk before disappearing into the sea of people, leaving you to take some deep breaths and follow after her.
as you’re making your way back to the drink table, you feel a light tap on your shoulder. as you turn around, you’re met with the same silver masquerade mask, this time holding two red solo cups. he holds one out, and you take it with a smile. “it only felt right, since i kind of catapulted your other one all over you.” you laughed as you took a sip. “oh wow, this is really good, thank you so much.” he chuckles and you both make eye contact, which lingers for a split second longer than it typically should. it feels as though you can see the moment of realization in his eyes as it finally clicks in his mind. his eyes brighten. 
“no way… it’s really you?” you both laugh as he brings you in for a tight hug. as he pulls away, he takes the mask off of his face. wow. vernon was always handsome, but something about him now was breathtaking. you basked in him, as he looked you up and down. his eyes finally met your lips, before slowing trailing up your face and gazing into your own eyes. he looked stunned. you weren’t exactly the epitome of fashion, in your knee high baseball socks and backwards hat. but to him, you were the one thing missing from his life. he leans in closer as you take a step towards him. “i know this might be too soon, but can i kiss you?” you slyly smile as you stretch up to meet him and say, “more like not soon enough.”
you felt like your entire body was melting into vernons arms. you were the only two people in your world. nothing else in the room mattered. in the distance, you could hear laughing and cheering from someone you could only assume was daisy. you both pulled away, breathless. for the rest of the night, you were attached at the hip. vernons arm around your waist, hands intertwined, you clinging to vernons arm, you never left each other’s side. something told you that you couldn’t let the other go again. as the night went on, you started to get tired and tried to find daisy to see if she was ready to go home. as you walked into the kitchen, you saw daisy sitting on the counter with soonyoung standing in front of her. as you tried to stabilize your vision, you realized that they were making out. called it.
you returned to where vernon was sitting on the couch and told him you would have to wait until they were… done… before you could go home. “i could bring you home.” vernon immediately stood up and headed to his room to get his keys. you followed behind. “are you sure? i know its out of your way, i can just wait.” he shook his head as he passed you the bag with your clothes from earlier in it. you give him an appreciative smile as you follow him outside into his car. you input your address into the gps as vernon sets up his music. the ride over is filled with the two of you catching up, telling stories about university and what you’ve been up to since you last saw each other.
pulling into your apartment complex, you didn’t want the night with vernon to end. as he parked his car, you gave him a sweet look. “walk me up to my apartment?” he takes his keys out of the ignition. “i thought you’d never ask.” you both walk into your apartment building as you lead vernon to your apartment. when you reach your door and you unlock the door, vernon stands with his hands in his pockets as you turn back around to look at him. you pause for a moment, before breaking the silence.
“sleepover? for old times sake?”
he gives you the biggest smile and wraps an arm around your waist as he follows you inside.
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softsnzstuff · 1 year
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A Little Helping Hand
Fandom: Stranger Things, Streamer AU
Summary: Robin has Eddie and Steve do the Not My Hands Challenge, only Steve has a cold
Notes: Thanks @dontfeeltoohot for bouncing this idea around with me!
CW: Contagion, non-intentional
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“Hi lovelies!! You asked and asked and asked and I finally convinced the boys to do the Not My Hands Makeup Challenge!”
Robin addressed the stream and gestured to Steve and Eddie who were next to her.
“I would be in bed right now, but Robs really wants to do this stream today…” Steve muttered, consonants slightly rounded.
“Oh come on, I know you’ve been looking forward to this all week.” Eddie playfully elbowed him and then addressed the stream. “Stevie’s got a cold. He’s just grumpy.”
Aww poor Steve
Such a trooper doing this anyways
You’re so cute Robin!
Robin laughed. “Well okay! Let’s set this up then?!”
Eddie sat down with his legs slightly spread, Steve sitting in between so he was in front of Eddie, blocking his view.
“So Steve is gonna put his arms behind his back…” Robin narrated.
Steve held up his hands and wiggled his fingers before putting both arms behind his back. Robin took some duct tape out and stuck it to Steve’s chest and started wrapping it around him.
“Well. I definitely can’t use my hands.” Steve grumbled.
“And Eddie here. He’s going to act as Steve’s hands!”
Eddie had his chest pressed up against Steve’s back and his arms were sticking out to the side.
Robin had them set up at her makeup table, the streaming camera in front of them. She had an array of makeup brushes, powders, foundations, and eyeliners splayed out on the table in front of Steve. He was eyeballing them all.
“This. SnFF Looks like a bad idea.” He sniffled.
Are they gonna even know what all those are for??
Eddie might actually do killer eyeliner…
Yeah but he can’t see???
Robin perched herself behind them on her bed. “Okay guys I’ll tell you what you’re going to do, and Eddie is gonna do it as best he can. Steve you can help tell him where things are I guess. Start with foundation.”
Eddie started slapping his hands along the counter trying to grab anything he could.
“No Eddie just snf wait a second. The foundation… maybe the bhehh back left cehh corner..?”
Oh fuck.
Eddie could feel Steve’s breath hitching. He loved his partner but god damn was he bad at covering. And his hands were literally tied. The last thing he wanted was for Steve to sneeze all over Robin’s things.
Eddie felt Steve’s chest expand as he inhaled. Without thinking, his reflexes kicked in and Eddie found himself using his own hands to cover Steve’s nose and mouth.
“HAESSSH!”
“EW!”
“ETSCHIEW! snfsnff ISSSSHuhEW!”
Eddie screamed as Steve continued to spray his hands with each cold ridden sneeze. “STEVE STOP!”
Robin’s jaw was on the floor and comments were pouring in while Steve sniffled helplessly.
EW EW EW OH MY GOD
Eddie NO!!!!!!!
I saw the spray ☠️☠️☠️
The pause was only momentary as Steve immediately started to hitch again. This time almost more desperately.
“Don’t you DARE!” Eddie grappled around for the collar of Steve’s own shirt, bringing it up towards his boyfriends face.
“H’itSCHhh!”
Eddie felt a damp spot form on part of his hand, so he shifted the shirt slightly, still trying to use it to shield himself.
“TszzIEW! H’aTSsuHEW!”
Stop he’s still going 😩
RIP headphone users
Someone step in maybe??
Fuck is he okay?
Steve sniffled thickly, clearly embarrassed.
Robin had gotten up quickly, grabbing the box of tissues off her nightstand and bringing them over to the boys. After quickly untaping Steve, she knelt down and handed him several tissues that he pressed to his nose.
Eddie stood up frantically, a disgusted look plastered on his face as he looked at his hands. He made a dramatic show of flicking his hands towards the floor with a snapping motion, trying to rid himself of the mess Steve had left.
The older man walked out the open bedroom door and into the bathroom and started washing his hands. Robin took Eddie’s spot and sat next to Steve, rubbing a hand up and down his back as he continued to fight against the tickle.
Are you okay Steve?
Didn’t get very far into the makeup challenge did they?
Steve looked at the comments coming in.
“I’m okay. That just happens when I’m sick. Sorry guys that was gross.”
As if on cue, Eddie walked back into the bedroom. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his hands were still damp from washing them. He pointed dramatically at Steve.
“I swear to GOD Steven, if you get me sick…”
Steve snuffled again and lowered the tissues from his face. “I’m sorry I can’t help it!”
Robin put an arm around Steve and spoke to the viewers.
“Well that was an absolute train wreck! We didn’t even get to the makeup and I’m pretty sure the boys are never going to do that again.” She laughed.
“We’re gonna end the stream here but be sure to tune in tomorrow when Nancy and I play Smash Bros. And go give Eddie and Steve a follow as well!! Byeeeeeeee!”
*****
[Four Days Later]
Eddie’s slouched forward at his gamer desk, a blanket draped over his shoulders. His complexion is paler than normal and the tip of his nose is tinged pink. He had a plastic water bottle and a small bowl off to the side, barely in frame.
“Hey guys.” He said sluggishly, punctuated with a watery sniffle.
You look so tired :(
Are you sick?
No jam session today??
Eddie’s eyes slowly moved back and forth as he read the stream comments.
“Someone got me sick, so instead of the regularly scheduled program, we’re playing Animal Crossing and eating soup.”
Steve shouted from the next room, “I said I was sorry!!”
Eddie sat up and turned over his shoulder, “Sorry doesn’t kill germs, Steven!!”
The long haired man twisted himself so that his legs were dangling over the armrest of his chair. Hugging the blanket tighter to him, he quickly brought an arm up to his face.
“N’xxT! H’ixxTCHU! iiKSHTiew!”
Bless you!!
Poor guy sounds awful
Take it easy okay?
“Ughhhh fuck,” Eddie groaned, leaving his face in the crook of his elbow while he reached for a tissue, “I’b sorry guys. This is so disgusti’g.”
He replaced his arm with the tissue, blowing his nose a few times before leaning back against the chair and going back to the game.
He played for an hour or so before Steve finally came in and placed a gentle hand on Eddie’s blanketed shoulder.
“Hey, it’s time for your night time cold meds.” He held his hand out, dropping two green pills into Eddie’s hand.
“Thanks Steve.” Eddie looked up at him from where he was sat in the chair.
Steve leaned over and pressed a kiss to Eddie’s forehead before disappearing back to the living room.
“Kay guys I think that’s it for tonight. Once I take these, I’ll sleep for like…1-3 business days.” Eddie joked to the stream, “I’ll see you guys later!”
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miniscrew-anon · 1 year
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HSH Febuwhump Day 13 - Forced to Hurt a Loved One
A short one for today.
----
The sound of shattering glass echoes through the hallways of the house like a gunshot. Stunned silence rings for a mere moment, the moment hanging.
Then-
“I’m sorry!” Wild cries. His sobs are barely contained and his tears stream down his face freely. He turns away, unable to look at what he’d done.
He never meant to betray anyone, never meant to hurt anyone. But intentions don’t matter when Hyrule was down on his knees, kneeling over Legend’s curled up form. 
Red dripped down the kitchen cabinets and puddled on the floor beneath their fallen friend. 
“Wild-” Hyrule gasps, lips trembling, “How could you?”
Legend coughs roughly, red specks flying from his lips. His jaw is clenched and the noises falling from his mouth are animalistic. He moans in pain with every gasp. 
“H-hold on,” Hyrule says in a shaky voice, “J-just wait a sec, okay? I’ll, uh, I can fix this-”
“You can’t.” Wild’s voice is a mere whisper. “It’s too late.”
The cook drops to his knees and places a hand on Legend’s trembling shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go this far.”
Legend’s eyes open. The betrayal in his eyes cuts Wild to the core.
“‘Rule,” Legend rasps. “Please-”
He coughs, more red falling from his lips. Hyrule just shakes his head and leans his forehead into Legend’s side, shoulders trembling. Wild buries his face in his hands, face twisted in pain.
Sluuuuuurp.
All heads turn. 
Sky stares back, sipping his soup innocently. “It’s not that spicy, Ledge.”
“Seriously.” Twilight agrees from his seat at the table. He chews some more noodles, face slightly flushed from the heat. “Quit being dramatic and clean that up - you got broth everywhere.”
“Dramatic?! S-say that to my face!” Legend coughs, red curry spice painting his lips. “Fuck! Wild why?! You were supposed to get Wars!”
Hyrule’s form shakes harder with barely restrained peals of laughter. Tears stream down his face and he wheezes on every breath. He mouthes sorry but Legend doesn’t believe him. Et tu, Hyrule? 
Traitors, all of them.
“I’m sorry!” Wild cries again, wiping his face. “It’s just that. Well...”
“He saw the light and realized who was in the right.” Warriors saunters over, smugly standing over Legend. He slurps his ramen happily, enjoying his mild tonkotsu broth. “Clean up on aisle three.”
“The right?!” How Legend manages to look so threatening laying in a puddle of spicy broth and noodles was anyone's guess. “You stained my favorite skirt with your dumbass eyeliner!”
“Only after you dyed my jeans pink.”
“That was an accident! You were the one who didn't check to see if the washer was empty, idiot!”
“Well in my defense it looked empty! Who washes one vest?”
“Asshole!” Legend chokes on his insult. The spice reactivates on his tongue. He goes back to making wounded animal noises.
Four pushes his chair back. “I’ll get the milk.” 
Legend groans. “Make it soy.”
----
I needed a palate cleaner. Just something to take a lil whumpage break.
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Note
For the headcanon ask! o!Phil wears eyeliner (but not the waterproof kind so when he becomes a dramatic crybaby it all just streams down his face lol)
LOVE! | like it | neutral | eh… | don’t like that :(
forgot to answer this bc it came in late the other night but i love this!!! i think i wrote this into my last fic :) it's actually true and real and canon o!phil told me himself <33
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"wow" - lrh
an: this one’s been brewing for a while, finally got to finish it!!
pairing: luke hemmings x stagemanager/fem!reader
summary: you’re stage managing for 5sos on tour, and you’re chilling with luke while he's doing his makeup before he has to hit the stage, he asks for help
warnings: cursing, a slap on the ass?
word count: 2.2k+
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She sits on the red couch in Luke’s dressing room backstage. She has her legs and arms crossed while leaning back into the seat, studying Luke as he applies his makeup for the night.
It used to be that she had a makeup artist for him, who toured with them, but a bit ago, Luke had started to want to do it himself.
He does his eyeshadow nearly perfectly, but then he stares at the eyeliner.
All he really wants is just a soft wing, nothing dramatic. But for the life of him, he could never do it right.
And that’s where the makeup artist did come in handy.
Now that Luke is on his own, he hasn’t touched the liner once.
But for some reason, he particularly wants it on him tonight.
He takes a long breath before he grabs the liquid eyeliner and begins to carefully attempt to do a wing.
She watches him closely as he struggles with the eyeliner. Her lips are tucked in and her eyes squinted at the poor boy.
His hand is shaky, not even creating a straight wing. It goes a bit too far out, ruining the subtle look Luke was going for.
He mutters out a stream of curse words as he puts the eyeliner down and just stares at himself in the mirror.
Luke shrugs, “good enough,” he then turns over to his stage manager, “right?”
And from the angle she was now seeing Luke, it was so much worse than she thought she saw.
“As your boss…kinda…you’re not fucking going on stage like that.” She deadpans, keeping her arms crossed, “I’ll find a replacement.”
Luke’s face forms into a pout, “who’s gonna replace me?”
She stands up, a smirk forming on her face as she walks over to Luke. She leans in front of the mirror, looking at her reflection as she inspects her makeup.
YN glances at Luke in the reflection, and his eyes are trained on her ass.
Of course.
“Luke, I can see you hun,” YN stifles a laugh as Luke’s eyes widen in embarrassment.
“M’sorry, it’s the fuckin’ skinny jeans,” Luke giggles to himself.
This was a fun little game YN and Luke had. They both kinda knew that they kinda sorta liked each other….kinda.
Ever since she had hung out with Luke that one night, there’s been a lot more flirtatious words and actions shared between the two of them.
YN’s favorite was the forehead kisses.
He casually does it many times throughout the day, ever since that one light forehead kiss when they had spent time together before.
YN has picked up the habit of giving Luke nose kisses in response, she doesn’t want to struggle to stand on her toes just to get his forehead, her lips can perfectly press against the tip of his nose.
It makes him blush every time.
Exactly like he is now.
“Stop bein’ embarrassed, I was just messing with you, bent over like that on purpose,” YN sends Luke a smirk, “but I came over here to show you my makeup…c’mere, look.”
Luke leans closer to the mirror in his chair, his eyes trained towards your face in the reflection, looking at her eyes.
She has the exact subtle wing that Luke was going for.
Luke furrows his brows, why doesn’t it look like that when he does it? What could be so wrong? What wasn’t he doing right?
“Wait, c’mere,” Luke rolls his chair back and grabs YN’s waist, spinning her around so she stands facing him between his legs.
He pulls her face down close to his, her breath hitches at all the sudden motion and she widens her eyes.
Her anxiety spikes, was he going to actually kiss her?
Yes, they’ve had their fair share of forehead and nose kisses.
But not once have they kissed on the lips.
Right before her lips touch his, Luke stops her face, keeping his eyes trained on her makeup.
In reality, Luke was simply trying to get a closer look at the way she did her wing. Maybe if he studied it long enough, he’d be able to get it right.
Luke thinks nothing of their close proximity, not even noting that their lips are barely even an inch from touching.
YN holds her breath as she stands awkwardly, not even quite sure of what Luke was doing.
“How’d you- how do you do this?” Luke murmurs his question while angling YN’s face in different directions, “this doesn’t even look hard! Why is this hard?”
All she does is gulp, and Luke finally makes eye contact with her, rather than looking around her eyes.
That’s when Luke finally realizes their close proximity, making him suck in a breath as his eyes flicker around her face, eventually landing on her lips.
Luke has held off on kissing YN. Especially since they’ve never been on a proper date, nor have any sort of label to them.
They’ve never even confessed feelings. Just compliments, flirting, the cuddles…but none of them have ever straight up confessed.
Luke has been afraid to kiss her, feeling as if he may cross an uncharted boundary, even though it's almost like they're dating at this point.
But he wants to kiss her. So badly.
“Uh- um- it’s not that hard…” YN finally speaks up, “want me to show you how to do it?”
Luke’s hands still hold her face as she holds his shoulders for stability, “can you just…like um do it for me?” He asks.
YN furrows her brows in contemplation, she’d never done this for anyone else, but it couldn’t hurt to try.
“Yeah- yeah,” YN murmurs as she turns around to grab the eyeliner and a pack of makeup wipes sitting on the counter. She then stands back in between Luke’s legs and sets the pack of wipes on his leg.
“Hold this,” she mutters as she hands Luke the liner. She opens the pack of wipes and takes one out, she then, very very carefully, wipes the messed up eyeliner off of Luke, extremely cautious of his eyeshadow.
She holds Luke’s chin in her hand, keeping him still. His face is relaxed, trusting YN in what she’s doing with his eye.
His face was so relaxed… and blank. YN could not tell if there was a single thought in his head.
But there is.
In fact, his mind is racing.
All he can think about is how YN’s soft fingertips are touching his chin, he’s holding his breath because what if it smells bad and she thinks he’s gross? Does he smell bad in general? Does his eyeshadow look stupid? Is she seeing all of his flaws with how close she is?
YN’s head is doing the same amount of laps to counteract that thought process.
Does he hate the way she’s holding his chin up? Is he uncomfortable? Is he even breathing? Why is he not breathing? Does she smell bad? Does she look stupid while focusing so closely on his eye?
Yet, they don’t utter a single word.
Luke finally shifts in his seat, making the pack of wipes fall off his leg.
“You’re so incompetent,” YN rolls her eyes and sighs to express her fake irritation at Luke.
“My fuckin’ leg fell asleep, you want me to go on stage with one working leg?” Luke raises a brow as YN bends over to grab the pack of wipes.
YN bends over, in such a way that she is over Luke’s leg.
And temptation gets the best of him.
Luke lightly slaps YN’s ass without a second thought, she squeals and jumps up, eyes wide as she gives Luke a bewildered look.
“I’m not doing your eyeliner. And you’re fired.” YN says with a dead tone as Luke tucks his lips in trying to hide a smile.
“I’m sorry…it was right there! What else was I supposed to do, hm?” Luke rests his hands on YN’s sides and pulls her back to the previous position.
He looks up at her with a smile on his face, she smiles back, unable to conceal a small giggle at his actions. She leans down and presses a small kiss to his nose, causing a red tint to appear on his cheeks as his pupils dilate.
Honestly - it’s the moments like these where everyone thinks they are dating. Who slaps their stage manager's ass? Who just kisses the lead singer of a band on the nose at their leisure?
They didn’t care though…not too much really. This was fine for now, lighthearted domestic-like interactions like this gave just the same amount of butterflies and adrenaline as being in a head over heels in love relationship.
“Quit distracting me,” YN lightly flicks Luke’s nose, making him scrunch it. She takes the eyeliner Luke is loosely holding in his hand away, his grip still staying on her waist.
She tilts Luke’s chin up and then rests her left hand on the back of his neck to support his head and keep it still. She tucks her lips in while she focuses on creating the wing Luke was desperate for.
“Fuck- I can’t,” YN grumbles as she tries to make the wing, the way she’s standing in between his legs makes it hard for her to apply the makeup because of the awkward angle.
On a whim, YN decides to bring up her leg over Luke’s, then the other, now straddling him in the chair, she’s now the perfect distance from his face so she can create the wing.
Luke’s breath hitches at the sudden action, his grip tightening on her waist at the sudden closer proximity. His face somehow turns more red.
“This okay?” YN furrows her brows as she holds the liner closer to his eye, “are you uncomfortable?”
“No! No! This is fine,” Luke sputters out.
“Alright,” YN giggles and returns to his eye.
YN finishes the wings, she hops off Luke’s lap and steps back to admire her work.
She then steps out of the way and goes behind Luke’s chair, “look! Is that good?” She has a bright smile on her face as she and Luke look at each other in the mirror.
“Perfect, sweetheart,” Luke keeps his eyes on YN as he shows a dimpled smile, he hadn’t even looked at it yet, he just loves seeing how happy she looks with it.
“Think I deserve a raise,” YN jokes as she plays with Luke’s curls, messing up his hair right before he has to get on stage.
“Doesn’t really work like that-“
“Pay up, Hemmings.” She cuts Luke off in a demanding tone. She stops playing with his hair, leading Luke to fix it as he stares at himself in the mirror.
YN crosses her arms and taps her foot impatiently.
Luke sees her in the mirror and lets out a chuckle, “Whatcha want, YN?” He stands up and walks behind the chair, he grabs YN’s hips and pulls her closer, “hm?”
“A tip, since I’m your manager and your makeup artist now,” YN challenges, “I only take cash-“
Luke sucks in a breath and lowers his face down to hers, kissing her on the lips and cutting off her playful rant.
YN’s entire body stiffens, where the fuck did this come from? She thought there was just some playful banter here.
There’s no complaint here though, YN’s been daydreaming of this moment, it just caught her off guard.
YN’s body finally relaxes as she wraps her arms around Luke’s neck, pulling him closer as she deepens the kiss.
Luke doesn’t know what came over him, it was like the ass slap, her lips were just, right there.
Their lips dance across one another’s as they make out in the dressing room. They basically melt together as they kiss slowly, savoring every little tingle and feeling of this intimate moment.
They finally pull away, high off lust as they stare at each other with stupid grins on their faces.
“There’s ya tip,” Luke smirks. He then grabs YN’s wrist and looks at her watch, “oh- I gotta go.” He sends her a taunting smile, knowing he’s getting under her skin by acting like nothing just happened and noticing the time before she did.
She likes fussing at him to be wherever he has to be, it’s fun, so when he is actually on time it takes the fun out.
It’s the little things really.
“Oh- yeah! You- you get 'em!” YN awkwardly chuckles.
“Something wrong?” Luke’s smirk seems permanently plastered on his face as he quickly throws on a leather jacket.
YN opens her mouth to speak but nothing comes out.
“Well, I’ll be back soon lovey,” Luke walks back over to YN to press a quick kiss to her forehead, “y’might also wanna…” He grabs her dangling earpiece and sets it in her ear, he then reaches behind her, purposefully grazing her ass to turn on her device so she can communicate with the crew and the band.
“Yeah…” Is all YN manages to get out.
Luke giggles and finally walks out of the room, leaving YN standing in her spot.
All she can think of right now is how unbelievably stupid she just looked in front of Luke. How could a kiss knock all thought processes out of her head? How could the bad-ass stage manager suddenly not have a word to say?
There is one word YN can say right now, though.
“Wow…” she trails off as she sits in the chair Luke previously had sat.
“Wow…” Luke mutters as he shuts the dressing room door behind him.
1K notes · View notes
lunaastoir · 3 years
Text
fluff/relationships w the mondstadt crew
characters included: diluc, kaeya, and jean
gn! reader as always <3
tw: fluff??? domesticity??? crack??? ideal relationships w people who will never be real??? also mentions of alcohol!
an: so i’m back w a sequel to my “fluff/relationships w the liyue crew” since you guys seemed to really like it <3 thank you my heart is literally melting 😩 this post was getting too long so i excluded some of the characters but expect a part. 2 (more like part 3 but part 2 to the mondstadt version)! 
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diluc
man. this MAN.
that’s it, that’s the headcanon. 
he would literally be the most doting lover in the softest ways
SUCH a soft romantic like you thought you knew love??? nah this man will show you what love is
will constantly leave you things around the winery to convey his silent thank you’s and appreciation for you putting up with him being busy for most of the day
it’s always the most thoughtful things ever too like-
you mentioned how nice it would be to have some fresh lemonade with the hotter weather outside but it was too late in the day to actually go to the market in search of fresh lemons 
the next day you walked downstairs only to be greeted with a pitcher of cool lemonade with a side of lemon bars
there was a note attached to the handle of the pitcher <3 
“i recall you mentioning how lemonade would be perfect for the warmer weather so i decided to make some for you this morning. i hope it’s still cool by the time you drink it. love, d” 
pls sir your hand in marriage
he secretly loves it when you usher him to bed after waking up in the dead of night to see him working by candlelight on reports 
soft hands on his cheeks gently whispering about how, it’s been far too long and come to bed, darling and there will be time for this in the morning
his protests are light given the dark purple hues under his crimson eyes but he’ll still make a little fuss 
don’t let this man fool you tho he’s so so touched that you care enough to check up on him and drag him to bed!!
sometimes on the days he has a bit more free time, the two of you will quickly grab your dinners and race to the highest spot in the winery to watch the setting sun
these moments are always filled with laughter, something you’ve found you’re easily able to pull out of diluc, simply because it’s you 
uncontrollable sobbing
he would let you paint his nails black like the angsty man he is 
frankly he would let you do anything to him if it makes you happy <3 
ok but wait diluc w bLACK NAILS?? AND RINGS??? i would die on the spot ⚰️
on the topic of makeup, this man is surprisingly really good w it 
i like to think he learned after practicing on kaeya when they were younger bc kaeya was really into makeup
you found out after babysitting klee one day and trying failing to draw eyeliner on the sweet girl after her “big brother ‘bedo!”
you hastily grabbed some wipes, gently wiping off the messed up design before attempting to dive back in 
diluc however, had some down time so he decided to check up on his favorite chaotic duo 
only to be met with a pile of dirtied makeup wipes, your frustrated expression, and klee’s growing jitteriness 
swiftly moving to your side, he quietly asked if you needed help 
you glanced up quizzically before handing him the eyeliner, already looking around to find more makeup wipes when this inevitably goes wrong 
to your utter surprise tho the eyeliner is perfect??? two perfect winged lines??? in less than a minute??? WHAT
you just stood there like 😦 before diluc got back up and handed you the eyeliner 
you were short-circuiting, klee was ecstatic, diluc was worried about you 
ok last thing abt diluc 
crack! warning but the both of you like lowkey pranking kaeya 
for diluc it’s revenge on his annoying brother; for you it’s good - natured sibling rivalry fun 
every time the two of you see kaeya, one of you always swipes something of his 
small things really, it could be a pen or a handkerchief
one time, diluc swiped kaeya’s spare eyepatch and from the looks of it, kaeya’s only spare black eyepatch bc he was frantically looking for it yk he’s desperate when he even asked diluc if he saw it
the two of you spent an hour nearly laughing your asses off 
all in all, life w him is so sweet 
kaeya
pretty boy? pretty boy. 
while i can’t guarantee stability, life would never be boring w this man that’s for sure
piggy back rides 🗣 piggy back rides 🗣 piggy back rides 
he LOVES it, the feel of you on his back while he’s walking around mondstadt most likely carrying you to your commission 
he finds it comforting especially since he can hear the rumble of your voice against him while you recount stories, or just babble on about everything under the sun 
he is SO dramatic so obviously when y’all reach the site of the commission he has to kill all the monsters even tho the both of you agreed to split it up evenly 
he makes quick work of his set before stealing some of yours much to your chagrin 
you scold him but can you really be mad at him when he looks drop dead gorgeous freezing the hilichurls the answer is no, no you cannot be
oh my god ok wait-
he does this thing where he tries to spook you in public 
so say you’re getting groceries at the mondstadt general store
you round the corner just minding your own business, looking around, taking in the sunshine 
and suddenly you just hear someone drop in behind you but before you can register anything you hear a soft “boo” and hands circle your waist 
you jump SIKE let’s be honest you shrieked 
meanwhile kaeya’s just laughing his ass off 
you can hear his rich peals of laughter while you attempt to regain your bearings 
he does this so often you SHOULD be used to it but you really aren’t bc mans is SNEAKY-
he cards his fingers in your hair whenever you’re speaking 
he doesn’t know why, it’s just a cute habit and he finds the feel of his fingers in your hair soothing
oH on the topic of comfort, kaeya really likes resting two fingers on the back of your neck???
ik he seems like the type to throw his arm around your shoulder which yes he totally is but during more serious conversations his hand automatically seeks out the warmth of your neck 
your neck feels amazing especially during the warmer months due to his chilly fingers contrasting with your warm skin  
he likes that he’s able to access such a vulnerable part of you and you would willingly let him 
HE GETS YOU MATCHING OUTFITS
no i will NOT take criticism on this i just kNOW he’s that type of guy
it would be those stupid “i’m his” and “they’re mine” sweatshirts like BYE 
it’s so cringy but for some reason it’s oddly adorable and you truly despise it but you can’t seem to say no whenever he asks 
you pretend to ignore the look of pity diluc throws your way whenever he sees you like this
kaeya really loves accessories so i think he would be the type to give you a promise ring or something similar to show that he truly does care for you 
he would brush it off, flirting a little like usual before handing you the ring 
with the way his cheeks softly darken though, you know he’s being genuine 
TICKLE FIGHTS ik i mentioned this for childe but shhhh
he has tickle fingers??? his hands just loOK like they’re itching to tickle someone so you’ll most likely be the unfortunate victim 
he will not show you mercy. at all. he’ll tickle you until there are tears streaming from your eyes, your face is hot, and your voice is hoarse from laughing so damn hard 
it gives him such a rush of serotonin its SO CUTE 
i feel like this goes without saying but he’s super into pda,,, anything and everything is on the table 
hand holding? duh. ass grabs? ofc. carrying you bridal style around mondstadt? why not 
ik he’s typically very playful but once the relationship reaches a certain stage, he’ll slowly start to let down the walls that surround his facade 
very very slowly show you the more realistic parts of him 
the real, damaged pieces of his soul 
he’ll be carefully monitoring your reaction though, any sign of fear or disgust will have him recoiling within himself again and you most likely will never see his true nature ever again 
SO BE CAREFUL 👹
once you’ve seen the parts of him he’s offered to you, the hushed whispers of his past, and the uncertain lines of his future, he will take off his eyepatch 
pretends like he’s not super nervous but he’s SWEATING- 
the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen though hands down 
you can understand why he covers it up but you would like it if he felt comfortable enough to take off the eyepatch occasionally when he’s with you 
also!!! sleeps with his eyepatch side facing you (in the event he wears it to bed) 
if this happens you KNOW he trusts you bc it’s his blindside <3 
anyways life w kaeya will never be boring but he is a very complicated man 
stay with him though, i promise it’ll be worth it 
jean
the key to jean’s heart is coffee and food 
GET HER COFFEE AND FOOD
i am begging you she deserves it 😭
the poor woman works so hard bc the knights are so mf understaffed, this is literally the best way you can ever show her your love and appreciation when she has work
she will MELT if you have a hot shower and dinner waiting for her when she inevitably returns later than she promised
will completely refuse at first with, “you did not have to do this, it’s too much” but shush her as you shOULD bc she deserves the entire world 
she’s the definition of “you do something for me, i’ll return the favor ten times grander”
you leave a flower on her desk bc it reminded you of her??? you’ll wake up to find a whole bouquet of the prettiest windwheel asters you’ve ever seen the next morning along with a thank you note
she’s so sweet BYE
she gets flustered extremely easily so you obviously use this as an opportunity to tease her 
when you’re in public rest your hand on her waist and inch it higher until your hand is underneath her shirt and in contact with her warm skin 
she’ll actually short-circuit its quite adorable 
sometimes y’all will be cuddling and you’ll hear whispers of her insecurities 
“am i a good grand master? will i ever be as valiant as vanessa?”
reassure her!!! tell her that she doesn’t need to be like vanessa, she’s already amazing as jean 
if you haven’t seen her in awhile, track her down and schedule a lunch date 
she never misses appointments and if it’s for you, she’ll gladly make time to see you even if she has to stay up even later than usual 
OH-
GIVE HER MASSAGES 
she has so much tension and the sorest muscles from hunching over papers and running around on errands 
if you sneak into her office and quietly stand behind her before gently pushing down on the sore tendons of her neck, she’ll genuinely fall over on her desk 
so make sure you steady her 😀
after you feel how tight her muscles are though, you drag her to barbara bc she needs a healer asap 😭
while most of your time is spent in her office - you helping out in the ways you can while jean is overseeing knight duties - you still have your fair share of life outside of the favonius headquarters
jean never likes to sit still so whenever you have free time, the both of you head off looking for monsters to clear
bouken da bouken???
adventuring w jean is seriously the funnest thing you could ever do 
it’s just non-stop you accidentally getting into trouble and her having to come help you 
even tho the both of you are dead tired after fighting, what? 20 hilichurl camps now??? the laughter and joy in your eyes shows how you both truly loved every minute of it
it’s both a stress reliever, good fun, and a work-out <3
you’re definitely prone to getting dragged to angel’s share w kaeya 
kaeya and jean sometimes hang out after work at the tavern so inevitably you’re dragged along too 
all three of you are drunk out of your minds which just makes everything a MILLION times funnier 
kaeya slurring over his words makes the two of you start cackling endlessly while diluc just shakes his head making sure to not give you more wine despite your pleas 
angel’s share ft. kaeya and bartender diluc are always the best times fr fr 
life with her literally feels like y’all are married 
so much domesticity it’s so NICE ALJDKSFH
your house is always so clean and the color scheme is impeccable bc jean has such a good eye 
you have a chore schedule 😎 but it almost never works out bc jean ends up doing everything without you knowing- 
you always confront her abt it and she’s like 😁 “i had some time so i did them! no worries tho” like i- time??? where bitc-
oH- she has amazing style so you can bet shopping w her is literally the best experience 
she takes you to all of the hidden gems some places lisa recommended and helps you pick out things 
will 100% get really blushy if you come out in something and ask her for her opinion tho she’s literally the cutest
basically jean is a sweet girl who deserves the entirety of teyvat that is all. 
thanks for reading! if you have any requests don’t hesitate to send them in <3 
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retroaria · 3 years
Note
Hello! I really like your work and I’m wondering if you could make a Karl x Reader where they do each other’s makeup and nails on stream? Maybe reader is really good at it and Karl is a little shy when doing reader’s cuz he doesn’t know if he’ll do a good job on the makeup. Also could I be 🍤 anon? Any pronouns are fine for me :)
Pretty In Purple
<cc!karl x reader>
pronouns: gender neutral
warnings: just swearing
here’s my masterlist ^o^
hope you like it :]
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A Twitch notification popped up on your phone, indicating it was time for you to get ready. You hopped out of bed and looked in the mirror, fixing yourself up so you looked at least a little presentable. It was just an alt stream after all so you weren’t worried too much. You grabbed your phone and makeup bag before heading to your boyfriends streaming room.
“Chat! I’ve missed you guys, hope you’re all doing absolutely wonderful. This is gonna be a short stream, but I have a very very special guest joining me today.” you heard karl say in his cute little streamer voice as you opened the door, catching his attention.
“Guys, look! It’s y/n! my favorite person ever!” karl said as you sat down in the chair beside him. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, squishing your faces together as he giggled at the camera. You said hello to chat and they went a little crazy. All positive reactions luckily. Karl explained what you guys would be doing today and you started to set up all your makeup and nail polish.
“Guys you can’t bully me if i’m bad at it ok?” Karl looked at chat as they all reassured him.
“You can’t chat but I certainly will.” You laughed as karl made a playfully upset face. You guys started with you nails which was easy since both of you had experience. Karl messed up a bit but was proud of his job nonetheless. You guys answered lots of questions about your relationship. How you met, how you guys eventually came together, karl was so happy to finally be sharing this part of his life with his viewers. Especially since you’re so important to him.
Next came the makeup which was something Karl had never done before. Sure, he’s watched you do it thousands of times but even then he’s always been amazed at how good you make it look.
“Alright so I think i’m gonna do something simple for Karl.” you spoke to chat. Karl looked at you confused for a moment.
“Oh, you’re gonna do me too?” he asked, looking like a confused puppy.
“Of course, that’s the whole reason i’m here, now give me your face.” you said with a smile, making a grabby motions with your hands as karl slowly leaned forward. You dipped your smallest brush in a pan of black eyeshadow before gently brushing it onto the corner of his eyes. You didn’t wanna do too much since this was his first time ever having makeup on. There was much yelling from your end as karl kept moving around to look at chat and much giggling from his as he thought it was so cute how frustrated you were.
“I’m finally done, you’re like a toddler getting a haircut you know that?” Karl laughed in response as chat all agreed with you. He looked in the mirror at your work and smiled fondly. It wasn’t really all that, just a soft black wing in his outer corners but he loved it so much. After him and chat praised you for your work, you then got out some more products ready for Karl to use on you.
“Ok now it’s my turn!” you spoke cheerily.
“Wait- me? I do your makeup now? How the heck do I do that?” he giggled nervously. You let out a quiet sigh before picking up your eyeliner and applying it. Once it was done you handed your boyfriend a pallet and a blending brush. He looked down at the items confused and then back at you. You laughed at his cluelessness, which chat also found to be adorably funny.
“Ok one, how did you do that so fast? And two, what am I supposed to do with this? Does this thing come with instructions?” he flipped over the pallet and jokingly examined it before you snatched it out of his hand.
“Wow you’re such a comedian haha. It’s an eyeshadow pallet dork, you dip the brush in a color and put it on my eyes. That simple.” the sarcasm in your tone made Karl put a hand over his heart and gasp dramatically. You rolled your eyes at him as he dropped the act and giggled, grabbing the pallet out of your hands to decide on a color.
“Ok chat, I’m thinking purple, would this look good?” he asked the viewers, holding up the pallet and pointing to the color with the brush. Once he sat a swarm of yes’s fly by, he got to work. You knew he wouldn’t do the best job, after all you did only give him the eyeshadow as you knew the eyeliner would be too difficult for him. He lightly dipped the brush in the color before brushing it onto your eyelids with shaky hands. He wasn’t sure which direction to go in or how hard he should brush it on but he kinda just did what felt right. You weren’t gonna stop to tell him how to do it right either because if he messed up that honestly would have been pretty funny.
After a little bit he pulled back and used his knuckle to lift your chin more upwards. He turned your head a bit side to side, admiring his work.
“Chat! Is it good? I think it’s good!” he said cheerily as you opened tou eyes and looked in the mirror below you. You smiled as you saw how patchy and slightly uneven the job was but it could have been worse.
“It’s perfect baby, I also love the color choice it matches my shirt.” you looked over at your giddy boyfriend with a smile still on your face.
“You look so pretty in purple.” he gushed, looking at you in absolute awe. Chat went absolutely wild talking about how cute that was and they were right, it was adorable.
The rest of the stream was just you guys talking to chat and saying goodbyes as it was getting a little late.
“Alright guys, I hope you had fun watching y/n mansplain makeup to me, I know I sure did” you playfully hit his arm, cutting him off as he laughed along with chat.
“How was that mansplaining I was literally just expla-“ karl cut you off, continuing the rest of his goodbye.
“Alright guys I love you so much stay beautiful have a wonderful night, bye!!” he clicked on the end stream button and let out a sigh. He turned to you with a smile on his face.
“That was fun, did you have fun?” he asked giddily.
“It was fun up until the point where you called me a mansplainer.” you said straight faced as you got up and walked out of the room.
“Baby I’m sorry come back!” Karl yelled at the door as he got up and chased you down before picking you up and body slamming you down on the bed, attacking you with kisses.
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LMAO I GOT KINDA LAZY AT THE END IM SORRY
I feel like i’ve been gone for so long so i’m really sorry about that i’ve just been kinda sad lately but i’m gonna try and write more cus writing is epic and makes me feel better 😎
love you all stay safe mwah
@fantasy-innit @themanifoldenjoyer
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shouta-aizawow · 3 years
Note
[insert any character to ur liking] headcanon pls? <3
*pushes up glasses* here you go 😏
Okay but I’m choosing Bakugou because I am nothing if not a Bakugou Katsuki love dispenser 😌
Anyway!! Bakugou crying but also being super dramatic for no good reason:
So Katsuki really only cries when he’s angry, but!! He’s just as much of an emotional crier as Deku. Like, any extreme emotion has tears streaming down his face. He’s always tried to hold it back, though, because crying is for the weak and all that nonsense, but anger just hits him so hard that he can’t stop the tears.
Time skip and Katsuki has started opening up a lot more to his friends and the people he trusts. He talks to them about his trauma, triggers, and regrets, and he’s met with love and care and support.
Now, that’s all well and good, except…
His body took that as permission to lose any semblance of control over his tear ducts.
So he’s starts crying. A lot more. Like, a lot more.
Cute animals? His eyes are wet.
Kiri calls him manly? His nose gets stuffy.
Glamouroki makes another appearance? River of Tears is open for business.
And he knows it doesn’t mean he’s weak, but that doesn’t stop him from feeling super insecure about his crying. (And he hates that he has this in common with Deku. It’s absolutely terrible. Terrible.)
But!!! Katsuki is nothing if not a problem solver, and his Problem Solving leads him to the best solution in the history of solutions:
Wear red eyeliner.
And not that waterproof stuff.
No, Bakugou Katsuki wants his eyeliner to run streams of vermilion down his cheeks. He wants to evoke pure, unadulterated fear.
He wants students to flee from the sight of his that-animal-has-no-right-being-so-adorable tears. He wants villains to freeze at a glance of his you-hit-one-of-my-insecurities-dead-on cries.
(Not to mention, he feels like a badass when he sees himself. Like, crying what looks like blood? Looking scary? Other than being the number one hero, that’s all Bakugou Katsuki wanted out of life)
Plot twist: He gets this idea from something he used to do when he was younger: He watched a show where a girl’s mascara smeared in the rain, so he started wearing red eyeliner so that when he’d get into physical fights and arguments and started crying (either from pain or his emotions), he could use it as a trap card and scare the other kids away bc they thought he was a demon
(Also why is there no good synonym for tears??? Like??? That is absolutely atrocious of the English language to do.)
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the-edge-of-great · 4 years
Note
can you do 14 with alex finding out that gay marriage is legal maybe learning about other wholesome lgbt+ progress since '95
(there’s a weird glitch or something on my feed where the ask isn’t showing, so just in case, this is for @lemonwilford)
so after finishing this, I have four tabs open for formal dresses, wedding venues, and lesbian wedding aesthetics on Pinterest AND I have an article from 1993 about gay rights (started as a reference but then it got interesting so really, it’s my fourth article)
in other words I kinda get obsessed and distracted with researching and referencing for anything that I write, so, TL;DR enjoy :)
also juke is totally established in this cause I said so
14. “That’s legal now?”
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“Ready?”
“Ready!” the guys call back to Julie. They’re in the studio, patiently waiting for the surprise she wanted to show them. She was eager about something when she came home from school and told them she couldn’t practice on Saturday. They might’ve been bummed had she not been bouncing with excitement. Alex had smiled fondly at her; excited Julie was his favorite Julie.
She promised to show them what was happening Saturday before leaving, and now they’re eager themselves.
Julie throws open both studio doors with a type of dramatic flare that Alex can respect. She saunters in wearing a gorgeous golden dress with lace shoulders, a sweetheart neckline, and a hem stops just above her knee, matching heels clicking across the floor. Her hair bounces against her shoulders: big and curly and gorgeous, like always. She’s wearing red lipstick, and her eyeliner is sharp and precise; Alex thinks it’s called a cat eye. There’s so much lingo he still needs to catch up on.
He meets her halfway with a grin and offers his hand. “You look beautiful,” he says, spinning her in a circle. She twists on the toe of her heel, and her dress flares. There are sparkles in the intricate design across her chest that glisten under the studio lights. Alex catches her around the waist when she stumbles to a stop.
“Yeah,” Reggie agrees. “You look amazing.”
Alex joins Reggie as Luke approaches. They share a knowing smile.
“Where are you going looking so good?” he asks, arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her close.
Julie beams at him. “A wedding for one of my friends from music class. Her moms are getting married.”
Alex blinks. “Moms?”
Luke frowns. “You mean… two women?”
Like a switch, Julie’s bright demeanor falters. She pushes against Luke’s arms, frowning as she breaks away from him. “Yeah,” she answers, eyeing each of them carefully. “Are you guys… okay with that?”
Alex makes a noise—somewhere between a scoff and a snicker. Okay with that? Of course he is. But confused? Yes. Very.
Reggie nods, chewing on his lip. He’s trying not to smile—Alex can see the corners of his mouth twitching. “Yeah,” he says. “Of course we are, we just—”
“That’s legal now?” Alex blurts.
A second passes, but Julie’s eyes widen with realization. “Ninety-five,” she mutters to herself, nodding slowly. “Right.” Louder, she explains, “Yeah, gay marriage was legalized, like, five years ago. Actually, a lot’s changed since the 90s.”
Luke snickers. “No kidding.”
“Oh my gosh, wait until you see Pride in June! LA has the best celebrations.” She shifts her weight, smiling sheepishly. “Not that I have experienced any outside of here to compare, but, you know what I mean. It’s so much fun! Flynn and I went with Sarah and her moms last year—Sarah’s moms are the ones getting married today.”
Julie is looking at him more than she usually looks at Luke—and she catches herself every time, quickly averting her eyes back to him and Reggie—which is really saying something. She can’t possibly know though, right? He certainly didn’t tell her. He knows neither Luke nor Reggie told her. Is it really so obvious, or could she perhaps… actually be a witch? Was Reggie on to something?
Alex rolls his eyes; he must be having an off day or something to really consider Julie being a witch and Reggie to be right.
“… Or not,” Julie says, rocking on her heels and twisting the ring on her finger. She’s looking at him again, much less sure of herself than before. Reggie and Luke are staring too; Luke elbows him in the side and glares.
“What?” Alex whines, pushing him away. “What are you—Oh! Oh, I wasn’t—I didn’t—” He shakes his head at Julie. “I wasn’t rolling my eyes at you! I just… had a dumb idea… Anyway, I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“She said we could go with her,” Reggie explains. “To the wedding, if we want to.” He raises his eyebrows knowingly. How come everyone is so knowing toward him all of a sudden?
“You should,” Julie persists. “Sarah showed us pictures of the venue today at school. It looks gorgeous in the daylight—I can’t wait to see it tonight.”
Luke grins. “Of course we’ll go.” He chuckles at the guys. “I mean, what else do we have to do?”
So, that’s how they end up in the outdoors of Orange County. The guys ride in the back of Ray’s car—apparently, ghosts can ride in cars. Flynn doesn’t carpool with Julie; when the girls reunite, she explains how her mom decided last minute that Flynn’s hair would look better in a bun rather than her regular braids.
They pose for pictures from Ray and the wedding photographer. Then Sarah, Alex thinks—a teenage girl with fair skin and copper red hair in a neat plait against her shoulder—rushes over with the biggest grin on her face. The girls gush over their outfits, the night, the decorations, etc etc. They’re cute; Alex shares a fond smile with Luke and Reggie.
“This place is pretty,” Reggie admits, turning in a slow circle to take in the scenery. They’re in a forest, surrounded by towering pine trees, and there are lights everywhere. Streams of globe bulbs are strung up from tree to tree, creating an arch in the center where a long, white rug leads to a stage filled with golden flowers. The sun was already setting when they left Julie’s house, so by now, the reception is a warm glow in an otherwise dark forest.
“Alex,” Luke mutters, as if anyone could actually hear them, and nudges his elbow into Alex’s side, “look around dude. Most of these couples aren’t straight.”
He noticed when they first arrived that men mostly stayed with men and women mostly stayed with women, but now that Luke has pointed it out, Alex is noticing that the guests are actually couples. A couple to their left is discussing the food. One man feeds the other a bite of a sandwich and gloats when his partner admits it’s actually not bad. To their right, two women are posing in front of the wedding photographer. One is kissing the other’s cheek.
“I think this is the most…” Alex pauses, trying to both find the right word and take it all in because, really, this is a lot. It’s a good amount of a lot, of course, but… These people are openly showing off their partners. They’re happy. They’re proud of themselves. And the straight people aren’t saying anything rude? No one is cursing at them? Claiming they’ve damned themselves?
“Alex?” Reggie asks softly.
“I know a lot is different from, you know,” Alex begins, “but I think this is the biggest change I’ve seen. I mean—” He gestures wildly at the scene before them. “This is legal! This is legal. It’s accepted. They’re just—Everyone is just—themselves! They’re themselves, and it’s okay.”
“I was gonna ask how you feel about it, but—” Luke shares a laugh with Reggie— “I think I have my answer.”
“I feel…” Alex rocks on his heels, considering his answer. He chews on his lip. “You guys will probably think it’s dumb, but—”
“You know we won’t think it’s dumb,” Reggie argues immediately. Alex glances at him. He’s giving Alex this look with a raised eyebrow, like he can’t believe he would even think that. Which is valid, you know, because they’ve never been anything less than supportive of Alex. Of course they haven’t; he really lucked out in the friend department.
“I feel safe here.” He shoves his hands in his jacket pockets. “Like when I could finally leave my house to go to practice, and I knew none of you guys would judge me if I told you about a guy that I thought was cute.” He finds Julie in the crowd, chatting with the lesbian couple he saw earlier, posing for pictures—selfies—with them and laughing when the woman’s partner hid bunny ears behind her head. 
Alex rubs the back of his neck. “I just… don’t think I could’ve imagined feeling safe around people who aren’t my friends.” He finally turns to Luke and Reggie, who are watching him with wide grins. Alex huffs a laugh. “Stop looking at me like that.”
Reggie chuckles. He slings an arm around Alex’s shoulders. “We’re just happy for you, man.”
“Yeah,” Luke agrees. He hums. “Can’t wait to see what the whole thing with June is about.”
“Yeah!” Reggie exclaims. “D’ya think it’s a few days? A week?”
“We can ask Julie later,” Alex suggests.
Reggie snickers. “If she doesn’t stay with Flynn.”
Luke hums. “Yeah, I’m gonna… go convince her to stay home tonight.” He pauses to squeeze Alex’s shoulder before leaving them for the dance floor.
Alex suddenly steps away from Reggie. “I, uh… I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
“I just—I want to find Willie. I want to talk to him about something.”
“You’re really going to leave me third wheeling with jukebox over there?”
Alex snorts. “Jukebox? Have they approved of that name?”
“… They don’t know about it.” Reggie pauses, then adds, “And you’re not going to tell them.”
“I promise.”
Reggie chuckles. “You better. Now go, find your boy.”
He’s at the museum, the first place Alex looks. He’s just leaving actually—as soon as Alex arrives at the building, Willie is phasing through the door, about to skate down the street.
“Willie!” Alex calls. 
Willie steps off his board. He turns to him, and instantly, a smile spreads across his face. “Hey, Alex. What’s up?”
“So,” Alex says, stopping in front of him, grinning, “tell me about Pride.”
Willie’s eyes shine at the request, just as beautiful as the lights from the wedding. 
“I’d love to.”
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freddie-weaselbee · 3 years
Text
A Whole New World//F.W.
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Angst to fluff, symptoms of depression, mentions of depression, minor character death (only mentioned), language, honestly it’s really cute once you get into it trust me
Summary: “Do you trust me?” After constantly pestering Y/N and finally making her explode with anger, Fred decides to try to make her smile again, in the most extravagant way possible. 
Word Count: 4.4k
Song: A Whole New World from Aladdin
A/N: Apparently I’m a sucker for the astronomy tower I didn’t even realize until I wrote this that it takes place in the same place as my last fic, but oh well. Also I would literally sell my soul to be able to reenact this with someone, preferably Fred. Also also I’m making a taglist so message me if you wanna be on it!
The astronomy tower was one of your favorite places to visit when you were upset. Something about the way the infinite number of stars continued to shine down made you feel more at peace. It made you believe that maybe there was a plan for everything, and it would all work out eventually. 
It wasn’t uncommon for you to spend most of your recent nights watching the sky glimmer with specks of light. The past few months had been hard on you, and you felt an increasing need to escape as much as you could. Your friends noticed, but they didn’t know how to help. You were usually so upbeat and happy, always helping others rather than being vulnerable enough to admit that you needed some help yourself. Which is why you would spend hours each night, alone with your thoughts and dejection. 
Tears rolled down your eyes as the events of the day came back to you. 
It took everything you had just to get out of bed. Your dorm mate had tried to wake you up several times, but she eventually gave up and allowed you to rest a little longer. You rolled onto your side and stared at a picture that was hanging on the wall. It was a family picture from years ago, when you were just a little gap toothed girl. Your mom was holding you in her arms and your dad had his arm wrapped around your mom’s shoulder. There was only one other person in the picture, but it hurt your heart too much to look at the old man smiling down at little you. 
After letting a few tears lose, you decided to start your day a couple hours late. You had a Potions exam that you needed to do well on, or else your dreams of becoming a Healer would be a lot harder to achieve. 
You rolled out of bed and put on your uniform followed by fixing your hair and putting on some light makeup. You used to put a decent amount of effort into how you looked, wanting to practice your eyeliner skills and try out new hairstyles. But recently it just seemed like too much work for no reward. The bags under your eyes remained visible as you walked to your Potions class. 
The day didn’t get better. 
You skipped lunch and decided to take a nap instead. You curled up in your bed and shut your eyes tight, trying to calm the anxiety that was racing through your body. Your mind began to wander and you started wondering what your friends were doing at the moment, and if you were missing out on something fun. You wanted to join them and be a part of whatever was happening, but you just didn’t have the energy to get out of bed. It wasn’t until you were forced to get up for your next class that you left the silence of your room. 
Transfiguration was a class you had with most of your friends, which made it difficult for you to avoid questioning. 
“Y/N, where were you during lunch today?” your friend asked. She seemed concerned, but didn’t know what to say to the sulking mess who was usually so lively and energetic. 
You shrugged and gave a forced smile. “Just tired, didn’t get much sleep last night.”
She nodded, not believing you but figuring that you weren’t going to tell her the truth any time soon. 
You turned your attention to McGonagall’s lecture, but you were distracted almost immediately with a balled up piece of paper that landed on your lap. You looked around the room before making eye contact with Fred Weasley, who gestured for you to open the note. 
You did and scoffed at the message scrawled in messy handwriting. 
‘Hey love, you’re looking a little glum today. How about spending the night in my dorm and we’ll see if I can make you feel better? ;)’
Normally you would’ve playfully flirted back with the ginger troublemaker, but you weren’t in the mood today. You hadn’t been in the mood in months. 
Shaking your head you crumpled up the paper and let it fall to the ground. It wasn’t long before another one landed on your desk. 
You rolled your eyes and you opened this one. 
‘C’mon, don’t be so grumpy. You know you want me.’
This letter you ripped up, letting the scraps dramatically spill all around you. If there was one thing Fred wasn’t good at, it was reading the room. You just wanted to focus on the lesson and spend the rest of your night alone in your dorm. 
A third letter hit you in the back of your head. You almost turned around and screamed at Fred, but instead you picked up the note and sat in on your desk. You didn’t want to give Fred the satisfaction of opening the letter, but your curiosity got the best of you. And of course with your luck it all blew up in your face. Literally. 
A small explosion came from the letter the second you opened to read it, painting your face a scorched black and singeing the ends of your hair. You didn’t even have time to react before you were being yelled at by your favorite teacher. 
“Miss Y/L/N!” McGonagall was glaring at you down the bridge of her nose, giving you a look that she only reserved for the worst troublemakers. It made you feel like shit. “Detention, tomorrow night for disrupting my lesson. Please keep your antics to yourself next time.”
“But professor--” She interrupted you by putting her hand up. 
“Don’t argue, Miss Y/L/N. Tomorrow night.” 
Your face fell and you buried your head in your hands, trying to hold back sobs that were rising in your throat. As class ended you gathered your things and practically sprinted out of the room, ignoring the cries from your friend. 
You didn’t get too far before you were spun around by large hands that gripped your shoulders. Fred was towering over you, a proud grin spreading across his face as if he had just won the lottery. 
“You should’ve seen your face, darling, absolutely priceless.”
He reluctantly let go of you as you struggled in his hold, avoiding eye contact with the boy. “I don’t want to talk to you right now Fred, I just want to go to my room.”
“You’re in your room all the time!” he exclaimed. He wasn’t wrong. “Just lighten up a little and take a joke.”
You sighed and began to walk back to your dorm, ignoring his complaints. 
“C’mon, Y/N, who died and made you all depressed?”
That was it. 
You spun around and came storming back toward Fred, who now looked as though he regretted ever saying anything. “Do you really want to know Fred? Do you really feel the need to relentlessly bother me when it’s painfully obvious that I don’t want to talk to you?”
You had backed him into a wall and he was holding his hands up in defense. 
“Today has been awful. I could barely get out of bed this morning, and the only reason I did was because I had a Potions test, which I likely failed! I have no motivation to do anything, which means I go to my room and miss out on everything fun, which only makes me more upset.”
Tears were streaming down your face as you screamed at Fred, all of your pent up anger finally coming out. 
“And not that it’s any of your business, Frederick--” you poked his chest as you said his full name, something you only did when you were mad at him, “--but my grandpa died and made me all depressed. Three weeks ago. And I’ve felt like absolute shit ever since. So please, for the love of Godric just leave me alone for two fucking minutes!”
Fred’s face was adorned with a shocked expression, which softened immediately. You hadn’t told anyone about your grandpa, not wanting to deal with pitiful glances being thrown your way. Fred had no idea that you were going through so much, and seeing you finally break because of him broke his heart. 
But you didn’t give him any time to respond before you turned on your heel and marched back to your room, feeling worse than you had ever felt in your life. 
You knew it wasn’t Fred’s fault. You had chosen not to tell anyone about what you were going through, and you assumed he was only trying to lighten your spirits. However with everything that had been going on you needed some time to think and deal with your emotions on your own. It was the only way you knew how. 
Your thoughts were interrupted by someone behind you clearing their throat. You turned your head to see the outline of a tall ginger boy, standing at the top of the astronomy tower stairs. 
“What do you want Fred?” Your voice cracked as you spoke and you quickly turned to stare at the sky again, hoping your friend wouldn’t be able to see how upset you were. 
When you didn’t hear a response you spared another glance behind you, but Fred was gone. You stood up and looked around. Surely he wouldn’t just appear out of nowhere and then disappear seconds later. You leaned against the railing of the tower, the only thing separating you from the endless night sky. 
A scream erupted from your throat as something rose up to face you, hovering in the air. Fred was standing eye level with you, but he was...floating? 
“How are you…”
You looked over the edge and gasped at the sight before you. Fred was standing on a large carpet that he must’ve snagged from the Gryffindor common room. From the looks of it, it had been enchanted to fly and it was doing a fine job of fulfilling its duties. 
Fred laughed at your surprised expression as he reached a hand out. You stepped back, still wanting to be alone for the time being. But maybe you had been alone for long enough. 
“What is this Fred? What’s going on?” 
He didn’t respond, but rather moved closer and stretched his hand out a little farther. “Do you trust me?”
The whole scene reminded you of your favorite movie, which had just come out last year. You remembered watching Aladdin with your grandpa, memorizing every song and occasionally singing or humming the lyrics once you returned to Hogwarts. There was no way Fred’s actions were coincidental, he had to have planned this. 
No matter how upset you were, you weren’t going to give up the chance to reenact one of your favorite movie scenes, so with hesitation you grabbed his hand and wobbled onto the magic carpet that was hovering hundreds of feet in the air. 
“You ready, love?” Fred’s voice was calm and soothing, so unlike his normal persona. You gave him a tiny smile and nodded, holding onto the tassels of the rug for dear life.
Fred nodded back and scooted closer to you. “Hold on tight princess.” You grabbed his right arm and squeezed, letting him know you were ready to go.
With a flick of his wand the carpet took off and you were suddenly flying through the cool night air at racing speeds. You’d ridden on a broom before but this was something completely different. This time didn’t have to worry about working your core to stay on or try to ignore the uncomfortable position you were in. With this, you could just breathe and take in the moment. 
Fred looked over at you and grinned as he saw your amazed face. You closed your eyes and put your hands out, letting yourself be overcome with the feeling of soaring through the air. Without warning the carpet jerked to one side, causing you to scream and grip back onto Fred’s arm. 
“What was that for?” you exclaimed. He laughed and tried to pry your arms off of him, choosing to wrap his arm around your shoulder instead. 
“Just wanted to make sure you were paying attention. Now are you ready?”
You looked at him quizzically, wondering what else he could have in store for you. Fred cleared his throat and you saw a small blush appear on his face. He took in a deep breath and did something you never expected Fred Weasley to do. 
He started singing. 
“I can show you the world, shining shimmering--why are you laughing at me?!” You were bent over into his chest, heaving with laughter at his display. It’s not that he was a bad singer, on the contrary in fact. But you had definitely not expected him to start singing A Whole New World while you were flying across the Hogwarts grounds on a literal magic carpet. 
“I’m--I’m s-sorry Freddie,” you choked out through laughs, “it’s v-very nice. Fantastic job!”
He could hear the sarcasm dripping from your voice and he put on a faux glare. “Y/N, I did not listen to you sing this bloody song every single day and memorize all of the words simply from paying attention to your voice for you to not be my Jasmine and sing back.” He crossed his arms and huffed and your giggles slowly died down. 
You felt a blush appear on your face as you realized how much effort he had put into this. Memorizing the entire song from only your humming and occasional lyrics? The least you could do was humor the boy. 
“Fine,” you said playfully, rolling your eyes, “go ahead again. I promise I won’t laugh.”
He gave you an unbelieving look. 
“I promise I won’t laugh a lot.”
Fred nodded and cleared his throat once again. “I can show you the world, shining shimmering splendid!”
He cupped your chin in his hand and gave you a wink. “Tell me princess, now when did you last let your heart decide.”
The carpet dipped and you screamed as the two of you soared downwards before leveling out again. 
“I can open your eyes,” he began once again. “Take you wonder by wonder. Over, sideways and under--” as he sang each word the carpet twisted to perform the respective move, “on a magic carpet ride. A whole new world!”
He sat on his knees and spread his arms to the sky, screaming the lyrics and letting the wind whip his ginger hair around his face. Although you were speeding through the clouds and any wrong move would likely end in you falling to your death, all you could focus on was him. 
“A new fantastic point of view. No one to tell us no, or where to go, or say we’re only dreaming…” Fred was looking back at you, holding his hands in yours. He leaned in to you and you sucked in a breath, leaning toward him as well. But what you had been assuming would happen did not, and Fred leaned in to whisper in your ear. 
“That’s your cue, love.” It took you a second to realize what he was saying but when you did you nodded fervently, hoping Fred didn’t notice you mistaking his actions for an attempt at a kiss. Before you could overthink everything and make it even more awkward you sat up and belted out your lines. 
“A whole new world! A dazzling place I never knew.” You moved toward the front of the carpet and Fred grabbed your waist holding you up as you spread your arms and stared at the endless sky. “But when I’m way up here, it’s crystal clear, that now I’m in a whole new world…”
You hesitated before saying the next two words, suddenly very aware of the tight grip Fred’s rough hands had on your waist. “With you…”
You turned your head to see Fred beaming at you, and he moved you back so the two of you were once again sitting side by side. You sang the next verse as the two of you flew over the Forbidden Forest. The terrifying collection of dark trees and plants now seemed so small, so miniscule when you were soaring over it instead of walking through it. 
It was almost time for the duet portion of the song, but before you could start you were cut off by Fred’s finger on your lips. “Alright, love, now we switch. I want to be Jasmine!”
You giggled at the child that was Fred Weasley, but it was his kiddish behavior that always drew you to him. “Well you have the body for it,” you teased, poking his stomach. He poked you back and it made you flinch, seeing as how he hit a ticklish spot. His eyes widened when he realized the opportunity he had, and his fingers attacked your sides while both of you tried to sing your new parts. 
“A whole new world--”
“Don’t you dare close your eyes.” He covered his eyes as you sang this for effect and you had to use all of your strength to remove his hands from his face, which ended with you intertwining your fingers in his. 
“A hundred thousand things to see--”
“Hold your breath it gets better.”
Fred finally halted his tickling as he belted his next line straight into your ear. “I’m like a shooting star, I’ve come so far, I can’t go back to where I used to be…”
You threw your legs over his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close as the two of you giggled like schoolchildren. Something about laughing with Fred always made you feel carefree and young. Like you didn’t constantly have the entire world dragging you down. It was intoxicating. 
You ruffled his hair and screamed the lyrics at the top of your lungs. “A whole new world!”
Fred saw this as a competition, and he decided he just had to one up you in noise. “Every turn a surprise!”
“With new horizons to pursue!”
“Every moment red letter!”
At this point both of you were shouting as loud as you possibly could, so loud that you knew at least someone on the Hogwarts grounds would be able to hear you, but neither of you cared. He took his other hand in yours as you screeched the next words simultaneously. 
“I’ll chase them everywhere, there’s time to spare, let me share this whole new world with you!” Fred steered the carpet downwards to a grove that you had never noticed before. He swept through the trees and swiftly grabbed an apple from a tree above before tossing it to you. It was something straight out of the movie and you had to wonder how in the world he had this so well prepared. 
He pulled you in tighter by the waist and started to sing again, transitioning back to Aladdin’s part. His voice was much softer than it had been before, almost sweet and loving. “A whole new world…”
You lowered your voice to match his. “A whole new world…”
“That’s where we’ll be…”
“That’s where we’ll be…” You could tell that Fred was maneuvering the two of you back toward the grand Hogwarts castle but you didn’t want this moment to end so soon. 
His thumb brushed your cheek. “A thrilling chase…”
Your hand moved to his chest, feeling his toned muscles underneath his infamous Weasley jumper. “A wondrous place…”
“For you and me…”
You stared into each other’s eyes, holding each other tightly and letting out the breath you didn’t know you had been holding as you finally finished the song. Neither of you said a word as Fred guided the carpet back to the astronomy tower and helped you down onto the floor. You slipped and fell into his chest, but he was quick to steady you and hold you tight in his arms. 
Your eyes wandered up the tall redhead’s body, illuminated by the dim glow of the night stars. “What...what in the world was that?” you asked incredulously. 
Fred only laughed and pulled you to sit down next to him, legs dangling off the side of the tower. “I guess that was my way of apologizing.”
“Not even an actual ‘I’m sorry’ is good enough for you Weasley?” you teased, making Fred give you a guilty look. 
“I am really sorry, Y/N. I...I had no idea what was happening, and I was just getting tired of not seeing you ever. I guess I thought you were avoiding me and I wanted to get your attention, even if that meant being a complete arse.” His guilty look only grew as he confessed the reasoning behind his actions. “I’m really sorry, love. But I want you to know that I’m always here for you. You don’t have to go through things alone.”
You sighed heavily and leaned your head against his shoulder. His arm found its familiar place around your shoulder and you shuffled so that you were closer to him. 
“It’s not your fault. I didn’t want to talk to anyone about it. I don’t want people to pity me, or to think that I should try to get over it. I don’t want everyone to say that I should stop feeling like this when there are so many people that have it so much worse.” Your voice shook with every word that poured out of your mouth. You had never told anyone that before, always keeping your burdens to yourself and burying them deep inside. 
Fred grabbed your shoulder with his other hand and brought you into a hug, letting you sob quietly into his chest. “Darling, you should never feel as though your feelings aren’t valid. You have every right to be upset, and I want to be there for you, if you’ll let me.” 
You hummed into his jumper, taking in the scent of cinnamon and gunpowder. It had grown to become one of your favorite smells. “You know, that movie was one of my grandpa’s favorites.”
Fred nodded but stayed quiet, trying to hide his joy that you were finally opening up to someone. 
“We watched it nonstop last summer. He told me he loved princess Jasmine. Said she had spunk, just like--” your voice hitched in your throat, “--just like me.”
Your best friend began stroking your hair softly, occasionally twirling a strand in his long fingers. “I didn’t know,” he finally said. “I just knew you loved the movie, and I wanted to do something special for you. You deserve it.”
You gave a small laugh at his words and he tilted your chin up so that you could see the concern in his eyes. “Hey, I’m serious. I love you, Y/N. You’re...you’re a great friend.”
The warm feeling inside your chest that had begun when Fred started talking had suddenly died down. You were friends. Just a great friend of his. 
“I don’t know Freddie,” you teased, “the way you were singing to me out there made it seem like I was a little more than a friend to you.” 
You were only joking, but Fred was immediately silent, turning to stare down at his hands. “I, uh, I may have gotten a little bit caught up in the moment,” he stuttered. His nervousness caught you off guard, as it was so unlike the confident prankster to be so tense. 
“So you really memorized that song, recreated specific scenes from the movie, and took time to enchant a magic carpet to fly me across the skyline, just to make me feel better?”
He chuckled nervously, slightly embarrassed about all of the effort he put in. “When have I been known to be simple with these kinds of things, love?”
“Never,” you scoffed. Feeling a bit of a courage course through your veins you reached to grab his hand, intertwining it with yours. Fred squeezed your hand back and you moved to give him a kiss on the cheek. “You’re the sweetest person I know, Freddie. You may be a little dumb and over the top sometimes, but you’re sweet.”
Fred smiled down at you and opened his mouth to say something, but apparently decided against it last minute. You decided to give this one more chance. 
“Fred? Can I...can I kiss you?”
The words were barely out of your mouth when his lips gently touched yours, drawing you into the softest kiss you could imagine. Your lips moved in sync, slowly at first but quickly picking up a little speed. After what felt like an eternity you had to come up to catch your breath, tugging on his bottom lip as you moved away. 
The two of you just stared at each other before you let out a small giggle. “Oi!” Fred exclaimed. “You think snogging me is funny? Wow, I think I’ll have to take those privileges away from you, you selfish girl.”
“Oh no, don’t deprive me of that Weasley, I couldn’t live without you.” He shoved your arm playfully and you spoke again. “I just think it’s funny that it took me cursing you out after class and an extravagant musical number for you to finally kiss me. And even then I had to initiate it! For a Gryffindor you really are a chicken sometimes.”
He responded by pressing his lips to yours again, this time in a shorter but just as passionate kiss. “I was getting around to it, I just didn’t want to take advantage of you in such a vulnerable state,” he said as his excuse. 
“Well I can tell you now, love,” you said, “this has nothing to do with my ‘vulnerable state.’ I’ve been in love with you forever, I was just too scared to say anything.”
“Ah, so you’re the real chicken then.” 
You relented, not wanting this perfect moment to turn into another argument between you and the twin. “Yeah, I’m the chicken, and you can be the prince that swoops in and steals the chicken away on a magic carpet.”
He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Only if the chicken turns into my beautiful princess by the end. Y/N, will you be my princess?”
You bit your lip trying to hold back a scream of pure happiness. Something you hadn’t felt in months. “Of course Freddie, I’m yours.”
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cotncandyboifics · 3 years
Text
A Lovely Night: Chapter 2
AO3 Link
Masterpost
Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5 ~ Chapter 6
Pairing(s): pre-established roceit & prinxiety, anaroceit, eventual anaroloceit, eventual intruality
Word count: ~2k
Story summary: Roman's boyfriends had had a rivalry since before either of them had actually met Roman. Running a bit late to a date night, Roman accidentally gets them to start dating too.
General CW: non-detailed description of an anxiety attack, non-detailed description of physical pain, food, kissing, potentially triggering descriptions of physical bodies, swearing, caps lock, school settings, s-xual innuendos, slight description of gore(imagery), vague descriptions of anxiety, Implications of an eating disorder, fatigue, dissociation, suppression of stimming, implied heavy restriction (ED), inner monologue-style anxiety description, eating,(will be added to as I write more)
Chapter CW: kissing, swearing, subtle s-xual innuendo, (let me know if i missed anything please!)
Author notes: this is the starring role chapter! If that makes sense... after this I'm kind of making up the plot stream-of-consciousness style. I'm pretty excited to get CH 5 out.
...
Virgil knew this whole thing was a mistake.
Roman had practically begged him to break out his skirt, fishnet, and heels. He'd only just bought them, and Roman was entirely too enticed by the idea of his boyfriend wearing them. He was very nervous - he'd never worn heels before, and never a skirt out in public - but he just couldn't bring himself to say no to his love.
And so, here he stood, leaning on the railing over a valley as the sun began reaching to kiss the horizon. He'd worn his favorite ripped crop top and leather jacket, fishnets reaching across his exposed navel, down beneath his plaid purple skirt and all the way into the black high heels he wore. He'd done his makeup a little nicer than usual, winging his eyeliner and getting a bit of purple sparkles in with his eyeshadow. his hair curled and twined haphazardly over his forehead and eyes as he watched lights of houses in the valley flicker on.
This was meant to be a special date, just Janus, Roman and Virgil. Roman had planned it, and kept the events a complete secret to both his boyfriends, simply telling them when and where to meet him. Virgil checked his phone; it was two minutes to seven, the agreed upon time. Virgil tended to arrive early to most things, since he was usually anxious that he'd be late even when getting a 30 minute head start. He passed his phone between his hands, the screen flickering on when his thumb accidentally tapped it, and a picture of Roman kissing a smirking Janus on the cheek greeted him. He felt his cheeks heat up, and slid his phone back into his pocket.
A clicking noise sounded from a little ways away, and Virgil turned to seek its source.
Janus was walking up, the heels of his black and white dress shoes clicking on the pavement. He wore a black wool suit with golden accents, a red dress shirt with subtle frills and a black bowtie. On his head rested his favorite bowler hat, concealing the majority of his golden curls - some of which escaped anyway, tucked neatly against his forehead and over his ears. He smirked and bowed as he approached Virgil, dipping his head and holding one golden gloved hand fisted tight against the small of his own back. Virgil scoffed and shoved his shoulder, and Janus stumbled a bit, snickering back.
Janus joined Virgil at the railing, looking out at the valley and the setting sun. They stood in a comfortable silence for a while, Virgil needing to consistently will himself not to rest his head on Janus' shoulder that was painfully close but felt so far.
After long enough, Janus cleared his throat. "Where might our dear prince be?" He ran his fingers down the underside of one of his lapels, not yet tearing his gaze from the pink clouds surrounding the sunset. Virgil opted to check his phone.
"Uh..." He couldn't form the words, so he simply presented his phone to Janus. A single text had come through.
Romano<3 Hey babe, I'm running kinda late. Why don't you and Jannie entertain each other until I get there? Sorry. Love you <3<3<3
Janus hummed, eyebrows raised. "Well it appears we're stuck with each other for the time being." He smirked slightly, and Virgil scoffed, bumping shoulders with him.
"What a waste," Virgil mused under his breath after a few more minutes of them staring out at the sunset together.
"Ah..." Janus glanced at Virgil briefly. "Such a shame. What a lovely view. It's practically hand drawn for a couple." He sighed, a little too dramatically, and Virgil furrowed his brow at him. "If only Roman were here. Unfortunately, you're not really my type, darling."
"Really." Virgil spat, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest protectively.
"Alas it's only you and I," Janus continued, leaning slightly closer to Virgil, "and frankly, we've got no chemistry whatsoever."
"Ah, okay snakey." Virgil bit back, not daring to look at the smirk he was sure was playing on Janus' face. "I think I can make that call, huh? Just because you look all pretty in that polyester suit doesn't-"
"It's wool," Janus interjected in annoyance. Although after a moment he gasped slightly, turning to Virgil fully. "Wait a moment! Did you just call me pretty, Charlie Frown?" He leaned a little too close, and Virgil scrunched his nose, leaning away slightly.
"Stealing Ro's nicknames for me doesn't make you creative," Virgil deflected, smirking right back at Janus.
"Mmm, perhaps not," Janus leaned away, seemingly examining his fingernails through his gloves.
"And for the record, I'm also feeling no chemistry."
"Is that so?" Janus' attention was back on Virgil, and their eyes locked in an intense and silent battle. Virgil wouldn't back down, just as he never had before, but this time he wasn't sure what he was trying to prove. He straightened his posture, making his chest puff out slightly. Even if Janus was taller than him, he wouldn't shy away from a confidence contest. No, not even if his crush was literally looming over him, not even if he could swear he just saw Janus' eyes flick to his lips for an imperceptible millisecond.
"Yeah. It is." He leaned his head forward, almost bumping his forehead on Janus'. Had he ever seen Janus' face so red?
"So you agree, then," Janus spoke, voice ever so slightly unsteady, but he didn't dare back down. Even if he was nose to nose with a boy he was in love with.
"Yeah, I guess I do." Virgil scrunched his nose again. This time, when Janus' eyes flicked to his lips, it wasn't deniable. He watched it happen, clear as day.
And so, he took a chance.
He took one step forward, not moving his head at all but nearly pushing his body against Janus'. Janus responded in kind, taking a step forward as well, and they were chest to chest. Virgil reached up and gripped Janus' lapels. They were impressively soft, and Virgil realized Janus hadn't just been bragging; it was in fact a wool suit. Janus' hands came to Virgil's hips. Virgil pressed their foreheads together, and didn't dare look away from Janus' eyes. They both breathed on each other, caught up in the heat of the moment without even needing to move with each other.
They'd both been waiting for this for so long.
Slowly, Janus' arms wrapped around Virgil's waist, and Virgil tilted his jaw up slightly. Janus met him halfway, immediately initiating a passionate, openmouthed kiss. Virgil's arms wrapped around Janus' neck, and Janus held him as close against himself as he physically could.
Virgil's mind was exploding, and so was Janus'. Neither of them could believe that this was really real. But they were both too afraid to break the kiss to make sure that it was, so they just kept kissing.
Hands wandered as they did, and Virgil had his arms wrapped beneath Janus' and around his back, both of them pulling each other against themselves as snugly as they could. Neither could get enough of this feeling they'd been chasing for so many years, and the fact that it had all culminated into this moment felt intoxicating in a way neither could describe.
Eventually things slowed down, and they went from lovingly tongue battling to trading gentle slow pecks, both of them smiling stupidly as they rested their foreheads together once more.
Janus opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted. "I genuinely thought you two weren't going to stop kissing for a minute there. Jeez."
Janus gasped and Virgil yelped, both of them jumping about a foot in the air and a foot away from each other. Roman, who was sitting on the bench next to them, broke out in laughter.
"Ro you can't sneak up on us like that, man!" Virgil wheezed out though labored breaths, as he tried to calm himself. Janus just stood straight as a pencil with his hands pressed into his face.
After long enough, Roman caught his breath, but he was still smiling so big at his boyfriends. They both looked between Roman and each other, trying desperately to probe the situation without moving a muscle.
Roman brought his hands to his face, fingers curled into happy fists. "Do you know how happy it makes me that you two finally realized?" Roman practically squealed, and if it were even possible, Virgil's face went even redder. Janus collected himself, and cleared his throat.
"Well hello, Roman." He opened his mouth to say more, but the words wouldn't come. He kept glancing to Virgil, who had taken to staring at the floor.
Roman looked between the two of them for a moment. "Oh you big buffoons. Talking always has been hard for the two of you, huh? Come here, my loves." He patted the bench on either side of him, and his boyfriends came at his call, settling in with their thighs against Roman's. "Now hmm, how should we start... I suppose you can fill me in on what I missed?" he looked between them. "Surely you didn't simply see each other in your lovely-" Roman made a point to look Virgil up and down slowly, "-outfits," And Janus as well, "And just decide to attach at the lips immediately? That sounds like something I'd do, more so than either of you." Janus chuckled, and kissed Roman's cheek.
"Well, snakey here decided to make a deal about how pretty the sunset was. And how it was so romantic and all that. And how it was a waste that-" Virgil's snarky explanation was cut off.
"Excuse me, I started it? No no no Virgie," Janus smirked as Virgil's eyes widened at the nickname, "You were the first to make a sly comment about the waste of a romantic view."
"You tell Ro then, if you think you know so much better." Virgil crossed his arms over his chest and stuck his tongue out at Janus, who hummed a laugh.
"Alright. Well," His smirk was lost then, and he took to adjusting his gloves. "I then made a comment about the lack of chemistry between us, and... And I think Virgie said something about me being pretty," His smirk was no longer lost, and Virgil rolled his eyes to try and distract himself from his heart racing in his chest. "And... I'm not sure. We got... lost in the moment." Janus smiled then. A genuine smile. It was such a rare sight (as Roman and Virgil often commented to each other) that Roman nudged Virgil's shoulder so he'd look up to see it too. They both gaped at Janus happily for a few moments, before Janus cleared his throat. "So I suppose then that in the end, I was correct that you find me pretty, Virgil?"
Virgil choked on air for a moment. "Sure, yeah, whatever," He spoke under his breath, "but you were also wrong about the chemistry thing. So suck it." Virgil gave him a challenging grin.
"Ayo!" Roman snickered at the innuendo, and Virgil and Janus both rolled their eyes at him.
"But darling," Janus ignored Roman for a moment, and Virgil swore his chest would explode if Janus kept using pet names for him, "You so strongly agreed that there was no chemistry to be found between us, and yet." He held his hands out, gesturing to their circumstances and smirking yet again.
"Oh shut up pretty boy," Virgil growled in annoyance, reaching across Roman's lap and pulling Janus by the cheeks into another kiss.
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11 minutes away....
AN: so this is just my stream of consciousness type story? Drabble thing? Idk I had an idea and those rarely like to pan out into something vaguely story like. Anyway I know the photo I used is if Halsey and Dom but this is the vibe I was going for ya know. Yeah. Uh let me know if you liked it. That would be sick awesome.
Oh side note maybe listen to 11 minutes while reading. Idk just a suggestion. Anyway.
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Standing on the side stage you felt your heart racing. Dom had asked if you wanted to sing with him. On stage, in front of the black hearts.
You had agreed fast and wondered now if it was the right thing. Sure, you sang with him in the car, in the shower, when cooking together. He always said you had a voice to be heard.
But now hearing the roar of his fans, his family, you were terrified. He was saving you for the end of the first half of the show. You could hear Doms voice through the speakers, his voice breathless and as excited as ever. You knew he was running to get his inhaler to keep himself going for the next half.
“Alright! So, someone special is here to join me tonight! She finally agreed to do this so let’s get fookin’ hype yeah? Show her the love of the family” you looked out at him, his smile huge,
“Please help me welcome my love, my heart and soul, the only thing kept me sane this tour, Y/N!” Hearing your name you walked out to the roar of screaming and applause.
The lights casting a shadow over everyone in the crowd, the mic in your hand felt like a 10 pound weight. You knew you didn’t hold the same vocal skills as Ashley, but you knew dom loved your voice, or at least he said he did.
Looking at him you smiled softly at him, hearing the first few notes of the song start, doms slow guitar playing, before you realize the mic was raised to your mouth the words coming effortlessly.
You had sung this song so many times with dom, in the living room, in the bedroom laying in bed, in the kitchen bouncing around the room.
“You’re 11 minutes away! And I have missed you all day....you’re 11 minutes away! So why aren’t you here!?”
Walking over to him you felt him smiling down at you, his hands no longer holding the guitar, now holding your hips lightly, it was as if the sound of the crowd faded, no sound but dom and you in the kitchen singing together.
“So call me stupid call me sad you’re the best I’ve ever had! And that keeps fucking with my head!”
Your breathing was heavy, the ending lyrics coming out slow from your lips, hand holding doms cheek lightly, singing to him only.
“Why aren’t you here....”
His lip pressing against yours softly, his breath pooling into your lungs, eyes closing you kept your hand on his face, unsure if you could even open your eyes again. The adrenaline pumping through your veins, this is what he felt every minute? It was addicting.
What felt like seconds and it was over the crowd cheering loudly for you both, smiling you pulled back taking a dramatic bow. Waving you looked at dom laughing to yourself, making a quick exit.
The show had ended, dom had taken all the time he could to meet as many of his fans as he could, you sat in the tour bus, head still buzzing from the feelings on stage, the addicting feeling of it being just you and dom, even in front of 200 people.
“You did fookin incredible!” Snapping back to reality you watched dom rush up to you, the couch bouncing slightly as he sat next to you.
“i mean it! Every person I talked to after was just gushing over ya.” Shrugging you looked at him, his eyeliner smudged, hair sticking to his forehead, leg bouncing with adrenaline and his natural hyper energy.
“Maybe we could do it again then, I liked it. With you it felt like it does when we sing at home....felt safe...” smiling his lips pressed against yours.
“Then we’ll fookin do it again. I liked you on stage with me. Who knows maybe one day me and you write a song together” laughing you leaned your head on his shoulder
“You really jump from zero to one hundred so fast huh?” Laughing he nodded
“Maybe me and you write a whole album, go out like yoko and John yeah?” Snorting you shoved him lightly
“Think Adam would have a problem with that”
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pokeasleepingsmaug · 3 years
Text
Agrotera
     Based off this post . I also started a companion piece to it about Apollo doing music therapy with the girls and his redemption arc for all his problematic rapey actions in the past, so I can post that too if you’re interested. 
     Artemis doesn’t quite remember when Apollo traded his golden bow for something smaller, sleeker, easier to conceal and faster to fire, but she’ll never get used to the gleam of the pistol at his hip, and she’ll never relinquish her prized silver bow. She worked too hard to perfect her skill with it over the long millenia, brought down too many enemies with it, and cried out in a hunter’s triumph when her arrows struck true. She still uses the hand-draw technique like the archers of old, eschews the use of a quiver because they’re clumsy and slow her down when she’s in pursuit. Easier to hold her arrows in the hand that holds the bowstring.
    Archery is an art that’s been lost over time to cheap trick-shots and Hollywood inaccuracies. But she’s a goddess and a huntress, and the tense snap of a bowstring sounds like poetry as she sends an arrow singing through the air. Maybe Apollo’s right and she has a dramatic flair, but she thinks that’s pretty rich coming from the guy who shot plague-arrows into half the Greek army during the final year of the Trojan War. If she ignores the fact that she once ripped a man to shreds with his own hounds, she can believe that Apollo is, in fact, the more dramatic twin.
    The drama queen in question leans against the wrought-iron rail of their third-story apartment’s balcony, pistol gleaming at his hip as he takes another drag from his cigarette. “You can’t save them all, Art,” he tells her on an exhale, and she wrinkles her nose and waves the smoke away. She isn’t worried about the health risks, sometimes even wishes she could die, but the smell is another matter entirely.
    “I could if you helped me,” she tells him, an edge of steel in her voice, and he sighs and rolls his jaw.
    “Fine. The next time you hunt.”
    She’s spent centuries with Apollo and knows when he’s only giving in because he’s tired of arguing, but she’ll take the win because she can’t stand to lose. “You have to take your bow.”
    Apollo looks at her with one perfect eyebrow raised. She nods. “I was going to take it anyway,” he snaps. She doesn’t bother to hide her grin. He stubs his cigarette out against the railing and shoves past her through the sliding glass door, muttering as he stalks down the hallway to his room. They have rooms more as a matter of principle, since neither of them need to sleep. Both of them choose to, sometimes. It breaks up some of the tedium of immortality.
    Artemis takes her twin’s spot at the railing, looks pensively at the sun rising above the city skyline. It seems distant today, the pinks and oranges less vibrant than normal. Apollo does this sometimes to show his annoyance, and still has the nerve to accuse her of being dramatic? He practically invented the concept.
    Artemis has always been most comfortable in the dark, but it’s been decades--or has it been centuries?--since the goddess of night skies and deep woods danced in moonlight filtering through leaves. City streets are her haunt now, hunting monsters of a different kind in the glow of street lamps and neon signs that dull the once-magnificent night sky into something mundane.
   She misses the time when mortals thought there was magic in the night and in the forest, when they used to pour unwatered wine and sing hymns to her, full of awe and fear. She was powerful once, adored. She isn’t either of those things anymore, but somehow she feels stronger than ever. More purposeful.
    She’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed over her chest, faintly gleaming silver bow and a pile of pale ash arrows resting on the floor at her feet. “Apollo,” she calls, half-annoyed. “We’re hunting for prey, not lovers.”
    “I can’t find my bow.” His voice carries, muffled, from inside the apartment.
    “It’s in the hall closet, hanging on the wall. Right next to the door.”
    “I’m looking in the hall closet!”
    “Apollo. Your bow is bright gold. It glows, for Christ’s sake,” Artemis mutters. She paces down the hall, about to show Apollo exactly where his bow is, when he emerges from the closet with a triumphant shout.
    “I’ll tell Zeus you said that. Hey, can I borrow some arrows?”
    “Oh my God,” Artemis groans, wondering if he just loves to torture her. “How are you even alive?”
    “Probably because I’m immortal. So, arrows?”
    “Fine. They’re more for show, anyway.” She stoops to scoop up her bow and a handful of arrows, leaving about half for Apollo.
    “For show?” He questions, letting his eyes rove over his twin. She’s dressed all in black: black skinny jeans that hug her athletic legs and a black tank top beneath an unzipped black leather jacket. Her revealed skin is pale and gleams faintly silver, thick black eyeliner ringing her eyes, her lips the color of fresh blood. She reminds him of a panther in the breathless moment before a pounce.
    “Also, you can’t wear that. All black everything.” Artemis glares scornfully at his yellow t-shirt.
    “I don’t own anything black,” Apollo tells her matter-of-factly, smiling at her shocked face. “I’m a sun god, Art, not some weird emo moon goddess.”
    “I wouldn’t say that around Selene.”
    “Selene loves me.”
    “Selene tolerates you,” Artemis informs him, ignoring the offended noise he makes. She decides to let Apollo’s questionable wardrobe choices slide this time. She supposes he looks intimidating enough to accompany her, with his artfully messy hair, bright blue eyes, and the faint golden glow of his skin. At the very least he looks not quite human, and that’s probably the best she’ll get from him. Maybe they can do a good cop, bad cop routine or something. They’ve been doing that for centuries anyway, they’ve pretty much perfected it. She whistles once, a short, sharp burst, and her black-and-tan hound rockets off the couch. She reaches an affectionate hand down to scratch his long velvet ears.
    “Do we have to take him? He’s not, you know, inconspicuous.”
    “Aristo has been with me on every hunt since Pan gave him to me!” Artemis scoffs, more offended than ever. The old satyr gave her six dogs and seven bitches back when the world was still new. She still has the entire pack, but Aristo is the only one who comes into the city with her.
    “Where are the rest?” Apollo asks absently as he locks the door behind him.
    “With Hecate.”
    The twin gods head out into the city, walking down the sidewalk like any ordinary mortals might, and turn toward the college campus. Frat houses are usually a good hunting spot. Artemis pauses to smile up at the moon. Selene has it shining its very brightest for her tonight, a hunter’s moon perfectly round and low in the sky. Aristo trots happily at her side, Apollo has been quiet for probably three whole minutes, and she dares to hope, briefly, that she won’t need to hunt tonight.
    Apollo grins as they turn down a street, following a stream of girls in tight dresses hobbling in too-tall heels, and Artemis smacks his arm hard enough to earn a disgruntled yelp. “You’re disgusting.”
    “I look at guys the same way,” he reminds her with a shrug.
    “That doesn’t make it better,” she snaps, beginning to regret bringing him along, but the thought is interrupted by Aristo whining low and urgent in his throat. He bays, giving voice to his full-throated hunting song, and she follows the hound as he tears across the frat house lawn, partygoers stumbling out of his way. Artemis runs after him like she’s just an ordinary girl chasing her escaped dog.
    Apollo curses behind her as he starts running. Aristo waits for them at the front door of the house, still singing, and his claws leave deep gouges in the dark wood as he paws insistently at the door. Artemis shoves it open and follows him immediately up the stairs. He reaches the landing and skids around a corner, baying as he stops in front of a closed door.
    It’s locked but Artemis kicks it open with a crack of hinges sudden as a lightning strike. What good is a door against a god? She sees the boy first, the harsh moonlight streaming through the open window turning his eyes to black pits and deepening the shadows under his cheekbones. He reminds her for an instant of the type of monster she hunted in days long gone. He’s frozen in place as the door bangs against the wall, so stunned he doesn’t even notice the seventy pound dog hurtling toward him until Aristo hits him like a howling torpedo. His arms windmill as he topples out of sight.
    Artemis walks around the bed, lazy and graceful, following the sound of yelling and growling, of sharp gnashing teeth waiting for her command to sink into frail mortal flesh. She finds Aristo pinning the thrashing boy to the carpeted floor with his front paws on his shoulders. “Call off your dog! Please! Get him off me!” The voice is high and hysterical with mortal fear, and Artemis smiles down at him indulgently.
    “I am Artemis Agrotera, and I will deal with you another time.” She calls Aristo off with a sharp whistle. The boy scrambles to his feet, crashing back to the floor as his shoulder collides with Apollo’s thighs. Apollo reaches down and draws him up by the arm, smiling with a menace that can’t quite match his twin’s.
    “We’ll be seeing you,” he promises silkily, gives the arm a gentle squeeze, and stands aside to let the trembling criminal pass. Artemis sinks down on the edge of the rumpled bed, wipes tears from the girl’s cheeks with her thumb, and drapes her black jacket over the bare, shaking shoulders. The girl sobs and pulls the jacket tighter. Artemis makes a shushing noise in her throat and stands, scooping her up bridal-style like she weighs nothing at all.
    The girl hides her face against the goddess’s chest as they leave the house. Fear and guilt war in her, eating her alive with teeth that slice like knives because she knows what will happen. The police will ask her how much she drank and what she was wearing and if she was flirting with him, if she’d given him any indication that maybe she wanted this. The thought turns her stomach, but they’re outside in the cool night air and the moon is so bright it seems to shine just for her.
    Artemis looks down at the girl in her arms, and her heart breaks into a thousand pieces for the first time that night. “I’m taking you to someone who can help.” The walk back to the apartment building is about ten minutes, but the silence and the shaking girl make it seem like eternities. When they arrive, Artemis fumbles her car keys from the pocket of her black skinny jeans and hits the unlock button. “Do you want to sit in the front with me, or in the back with the dog?”
    The girl’s wide brown eyes flit between Artemis’s perfect moon-pale face and Aristo’s floppy ears and kind brown eyes. “The dog, please.”
    “His name is Aristo.” Artemis says, setting the girl on her feet and opening the back door for her. Aristo leaps in, tail wagging, and the mortal girl slides into the seat beside him. “He loves hugs.”
    “Aristo,” the girl murmurs, burying her face in his neck with a shaky breath.  “My name is Laurel.” Artemis’s stomach clenches. Apollo looks like he might be ill as he climbs into the passenger seat. He knows where the first laurel tree still grows, nearly as old as the surrounding hills.
    Artemis starts the car and within minutes they’re speeding out of the city, turning off the highway onto winding back roads, and she rolls all the windows down to feel the wind in her hair and focuses on that to still the angry shaking of her hands. “Hey Art, does Hecate know we’re coming?” Apollo asks as they turn up the long dirt driveway, past a sign that says Crossroads Farm in fading purple paint.
    “She always knows.”
    Sure enough, the front porch light is on and lights are shining through the front windows. “We’re here,” Artemis announces for Laurel’s benefit as she parks.
    “Where are we?” Laurel’s voice fills with fear. Artemis’s heart shatters into a thousand pieces, for what must be the thousandth time tonight.
    “Crossroads Farm,” Artemis tells her, voice gentler than Apollo’s ever heard it. “You’ll be safe, I promise.”
    “Who are you?” Laurel looks at them with wide, suspicious eyes and hugs hard enough around Aristo’s neck that he whines.
    “Artemis, and this is my brother, Apollo.” Artemis waves her hand vaguely in the direction of her brother’s faintly shining face and ridiculous yellow t-shirt. They aren’t so ancient that their names are completely unfamiliar, because Artemis can see recognition stirring in Laurel’s fearful brown eyes.
    “Like the ancient Greeks?”
    Apollo nods. “Something like that. Come on, you’ll like Hecate.”
    Before Artemis can stop him, he reaches toward Laurel’s hand to guide her up the steps. The mortal recoils from him, and Apollo looks so heartbroken Artemis almost pities him. She reminds herself he doesn’t know any better yet--he’s never spent time with a girl like Laurel before. He doesn’t understand the panic in her veins, the constant nagging fear she’ll carry with her for the rest of her life. He’s never heard a girl wake screaming from a nightmare she can’t stop reliving every time she closes her eyes.
    “Shouldn’t we go to the police station?” Laurel asks, but she follows Artemis up the front porch steps anyway. Apollo walks a respectful distance behind her, half-dejected and half-protective, but completely silent. When Artemis opens the door, Hecate is already sitting at the scrubbed pine table with four steaming mugs of tea, the picture of serenity.
    Hecate was called Iphigenia once, and she was the first mortal Artemis rescued; led to a gleaming sacrificial knife by a man who was supposed to protect her. She understands, in a way Artemis will never be able to, the fear and the guilt and the panic that feels like it can stop your lungs from filling. “Hi,” Hecate says simply, gesturing at the mugs. Laurel takes the empty seat beside her, and Artemis pointedly sits in the chair beside Laurel. Apollo huffs as he takes the seat furthest from her. “It’s herbal tea,” Hecate says, answering the girl’s unspoken question. “It will help you sleep without dreams.”
    Laurel nods, wraps her hands around the warm ceramic mug and inhales deeply. “It smells good.” She hesitates, her eyes dancing over the three deities. “Are--are you really Greek gods?”
    Artemis is proud of Apollo, for once, for the way he doesn’t let his face fall. She knows there’s nothing like a tragedy to unravel a mortal’s world; she’s seen it more times than she cares to remember and yet she can’t forget any of them. If something like this can happen--stories that happen on the evening news, to other people--then stories older than street lamps and cars can happen, too.
    “Yes.” Artemis has found, through trial and error, through centuries, that simplicity works best.
    “Artemis is the protector of young girls,” Apollo says, like that explains everything. “She’s been doing this--geez, for how long, Art?” He’s trying too hard to act casual, but Artemis can see he’s shaken. It takes some getting used to; this is only his first time and she has literal millenia of practice. She takes a deep breath and reminds herself to be patient.
    “Since mortals stopped protecting their own daughters. When police began asking a girl what she was wearing, instead of asking a boy why he felt he had the right to take her sense of safety away.”
    “Right. That long.”
    “I was the first she saved,” Hecate volunteers conversationally. “Back when Troy still stood tall on its hill.”
    “That clears things up,” Apollo mutters, rolling his eyes conspiratorially at Laurel. She rewards him with a tiny smile, and Artemis is half-surprised he doesn’t jump up and dance. He only grins, and she knows he’ll take whatever victory he can get even if it doesn’t feel like enough. A smile from Laurel won’t erase his past mistakes.
    “It should clear things up, you were there,” Artemis reminds him. “You built the walls of Troy with your own hands.”
    “Yeah, look how well that worked out.” Apollo pouts into his tea, unable to let go of that centuries-old sting. “Fucking Eris and her fucking apple.”
    Artemis raises an eyebrow. “That was literally ages ago. We have other problems now.” Apollo follows her gaze as it rests on Laurel, sipping her tea and watching them with open fascination.
    “How is this even my life?” Laurel wonders aloud.
    Apollo shrugs, apparently having recovered from his earlier unease. “You’re just lucky, I guess.” The joke falls flat, he hisses in a breath and scrambles to fix his mistake. “Sorry, Jesus, I’m so sorry.” Tea sloshes over the side of his mug as he sets it down carelessly and reaches across the table for Laurel’s hand. She withdraws it and stares flatly into the contents of her mug.
    Apollo’s face is crestfallen as he looks to Artemis for guidance, and she’s amazed that a god can be so painfully dumb. “Smooth,” she barks, patience momentarily snapped. Aristo rests his head on Laurel’s lap, much more comforting than Apollo could ever be, and she strokes him silently.
    “Laurel,” Apollo begins, but she cuts him off with a shake of the head.
    “It’s fine. Can-can I stay here tonight?” Her eyes are wide and wary as she turns to Hecate.
    “Of course. I’ll show you to your room.” The gentle goddess stands, leading the exhausted mortal down the hallway to the left of the kitchen, through the living room, and toward the bedrooms in the back. They’ve done this too many times since Hecate bought this place a couple decades ago; there’s a dozen bedrooms here reserved for the girls Artemis brings. Sometimes they only stay for one night, sometimes for a week, sometimes they’ll leave and show up again unannounced months later, dark circles under their eyes and a constant tension in their shoulders.
    Hecate never turns them away, only cooks them meals with the vegetables from her garden and gives them tea to help them sleep. They spend their days outside, reading in the sunlight or roaming with Artemis and her dogs, wearing loose chitons and carrying bows. There’s two other girls here besides Laurel; Kate, the girl Artemis helped last night, and Andrea, who showed up here a week ago and cried in Hecate’s arms again.
    “Artemis,” Hecate calls down the hall, interrupting her thoughts, “can Aristo sleep with Laurel tonight?”
    Artemis hates to relinquish her hunting partner, but he looks up at her with soft eyes, and she knows he would rather spend the night cuddling with Laurel than chasing her attacker. “Make sure Pelea has the scent,” she tells the dog. He wags his tail once in agreement and pushes through the doggy door to find Pelea. “He’ll be there soon,” Artemis calls back.
    She and Apollo sit in silence, Apollo fidgeting with his empty mug as Artemis waits for her dogs. They’re only gone for a few minutes, Aristo trotting in with Pelea on his heels. He bumps his snout against his mistress’s hand as he trots by. Pelea rests her head on Artemis’s lap, tail wagging as Artemis scratches her ears.
    A few minutes later Hecate glides into the kitchen on silent feet and sighs as she sits at the head of the table. “She’s settled in with Aristo. When are you guys going?” Artemis ducks her head to look out the window, squints up at the huge, bright hunter’s moon, and looks over at her brother.
    “Ready for part two?”
    “What’s part two?” His voice is apprehensive, and Artemis thinks it’s hilarious. She likes that she can still surprise him even after millenia.
    She smiles wolfishly as she stands and stretches, slow and lazy. “The hunt.”
    “Oh. I was wondering why you went by Agrotera earlier.” It’s an epithet he hadn’t heard her use in at least a few centuries, but it was one of the earliest used to describe her. Artemis Agrotera. Artemis of the Hunt.
    She rolls her eyes so hard, she can practically see the back of her own skull. “Don’t tell me you still go by Phoebus.”
    He shakes his head, looking away. “I stopped using my epithets a long time ago.”
    Artemis steps forward and grips his chin, forcing him to face her. She hates the shame she sees there, but she knows it’s been a long time coming. “Apollo Akesios,” she says softly, firmly. “Averter of evil.” Sometimes even gods need to be reminded who they are.
    “I don’t deserve that one. Maybe I never did.” His voice is low and full of sadness, but Artemis isn’t about to let him get away with wallowing. Self-loathing isn’t becoming for the god of the sun.
    “Then earn it now. I don’t have time for your pity-party, Apollo, I have hunting to do. You can either hang out here and mope over Laurel--and we both know it isn’t really about her, anyway--or you can help me catch the asshole who did this.” She releases his chin; he rubs his jaw ruefully. Her grip had slowly tightened the more worked up she became.
    “Fine, Art, geez. But tomorrow I’m going to Greece.”
    “Tell Daphne if she ever wants to be human again, she has a place here,” Hecate interjects from the table. Apollo waves a hand in acknowledgement, trying to ignore the way his stomach drops at the name. He’s barely finished composing himself by the time Artemis is halfway out the door, and he starts after her with a muttered curse. They slide into her silver car, and he doesn’t have time to buckle his seatbelt before she’s peeling down the driveway.
    “You can help me with this anytime you want, you know,” Artemis tells him, voice raised to be heard over the wind roaring through the windows. She’s tired of seeing her brother so lost, so far removed from the god he once was. They all are, except maybe Hades, because there will always be death. But hunting like this, protecting young girls like she used to, it reminds Artemis of who she is. She wants this feeling for her brother, too, because she loves him dearer than all the world of mortals.
    “I’m not much of a hunter, Art.”
    “No, but you invented medicine. You’re a healer. These girls, they need someone. Hecate does what she can, but sometimes it isn’t enough. Sometimes it takes more than herbal tea and an essential oil diffuser. For some of them, positive energy and sunlight doesn’t cut it. Hecate’s a minor goddess, but you? God of the sun, remember? Inventor of medicine and music and poetry. And Selene, she makes the moon shine brighter for them so they’re never caught out in the dark, but you can teach them to carry sunlight in their hearts again. You don’t have to hunt with me, after tonight. But when you get back from Greece,” she shrugs, “there’s a purpose for you, if you want it.”
    Apollo doesn’t have to answer, because Pelea barks suddenly from the backseat. Artemis barely checks her blind spot as she pulls over, parking so quickly she scrapes her tire against the curb. She jumps out of the car and opens the back door for Pelea. Apollo unfolds himself from his seat and jogs alongside Artemis, following the hound.
    “When did you train your dogs to do this?” He wonders idly, not expecting an answer.
    “A couple hundred years ago, maybe? Around the time Ivar the Boneless invaded Ireland.”
    “That was over a thousand years ago, Art.” He looks at her, bemused, knowing she doesn’t care about the specifics. It’s important to him, though. They’ve never kept secrets from each other, and this stings more than he wants to admit. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
    “You and Hermes sort of disappeared for a century or so, I didn’t want to bother you.” Apollo tries to remember this specific disappearance, thinks maybe it was when he and Hermes hung out with Calypso on her island for a while. It’s nice to leave the world sometimes. Pelea trots easily in front of them, scenting the cool breeze, and the moon is huge and high in the sky. It’s barely past the middle of the night.
    “Where’s she taking us?” Apollo grumbles. Artemis, ever the patient hunter, smiles serenely at him and doesn’t grace him with an answer. Pelea’s tail wags in slow arcs. Artemis knows they’re getting closer but she enjoys the pursuit. She hopes the boy is laying in his bed, unable to sleep, feeling in his cowardly bones that vengeance is coming to him. She wants to hope he feels guilty but knows he probably doesn’t, so the most she ever hopes for is fear.
    Pelea bays, just once, the sound that used to be the death-song of so many stags, and Artemis hopes the boy shivers at the sound. She sees him in the distance, a shadow against the horizon, a dark shape moving between houses. Pelea takes off after him eagerly, Artemis and Apollo hot on her heels. Pelea veers around to cut off his escape as the twins reach him.
    Artemis reaches out, a pale arrow clasped in her hand, and rubs the shining silver point down the length of his spine. “I told you I would find you,” she croons, sing-song as a baying hound.
    He stops dead in his tracks so suddenly that Apollo nearly crashes into him. Artemis strokes the arrow down the boy’s back again. She rubs her hand almost seductively along the back of his neck, leans closer, and whispers in his ear, “Turn around and face me.” She releases her hold, lets the arrowhead drag along his shoulder and chest as he obeys her. She tickles him lightly with the tip, just above the place where his heart beats so hard she can see the pulse throbbing in his neck. “Do you remember my name?”
    He nods frantically, too terrified to speak. A sharp smell reaches her nose, she glances down to the spreading stain on the front of his jeans and clucks disapprovingly. “What was my name, again?” She drags the arrow up to the wildly thudding pulse at the juncture of his chin and neck.
    “Art--Artemis A--Agro….” he trails off, she increases the pressure until he starts bawling. “Agrotera,” he chokes. She nods, pleased, and eases back just a bit.
    “I’m not going to kill you,” she purrs, arrow still pressed against his throat. “This time. A quick death is too merciful for men like you.” She sighs, as if she regrets that. “In Sparta, where they worshipped me centuries ago, they gave all their women small knives. That way, if a man ever tried to force himself upon her, she could slash him across the face and the entire world would know what he did. That was a good time for women, when they didn’t need me to protect them.” She stares him down with eerie, unblinking silver eyes. “Do you know her name? The girl you attacked?”
    He shakes his head, and Artemis gently traces the tip of the arrowhead along his jawline. “Her name is Laurel. She’s twenty years old and has a little brother, and she’s studying biology in college. She wants to be a cancer researcher, and travel the world, and she always loved the night until you made her afraid of it.” Artemis pauses, gives him a soft smile. “So now I want you to be afraid of it, too. I think they had it right in Sparta, all that time ago.”
    Quick as thought, she darts the arrow up and slices along his cheekbone. The slash is clean, surgically precise, and will heal in a narrow, smooth pink scar. It’s high enough up that a beard will never hide it. “That custom is long dead, more’s the pity.” She shrugs, twirls the arrow so that it flashes in the moonlight, and tastes the dark blood on the silver arrowhead with the tip of her tongue. “Coward’s blood, I knew it. No descendent of Sparta.” She brings the arrow up again and runs it down the slope of his nose. “No one will know why there’s a slash on your face except you. Every time you look in the mirror, you’ll remember what you did. That is my first gift to you.”
    She smiles, as if he’s just won the grand prize on a game show. There’s something feral in her eyes, a wildness mortals thought dead long ago. The boy is shaking uncontrollably. A first gift implies a second, and he doesn’t want anything except for this to be a dream. “So my first gift was knowledge, and my second is a promise.” She looks at him like she’s waiting for him to thank her.
    When he’s silent, she shrugs and continues. She inspects the arrow as she speaks, not looking at him. He doesn’t deserve the attention of her gaze. “I promise that I will be watching you until the day you die. I promise that if you ever do this again, if you ever raise your hand to a woman, I will be the last thing you see.”
    She reaches down, scratches Pelea’s ears affectionately. “This is Pelea. The dog I had with me earlier was Aristo. They’ve been alive longer than this country.” She gestures vaguely with the arrow; he instinctively raises his arms to protect his face. Artemis tries to hide the savage pleasure this brings her, but can’t quite keep the triumph from her ice-cold eyes. “They were given to me by Pan, the god of shepherds and wild places. Did you know he invented panic?” She tilts her head thoughtfully. “I perfected it, though.” The moonlight gleams off her perfect white teeth as she smiles.
    “Once they have your scent, they can find you anywhere in the world. There is nowhere you can hide, nowhere my hounds cannot find you.” Her voice is mild, almost pleasant, and it makes the boy sob with a terror that’s older than instinct. Centuries ago, humans feared the gods; that fear is buried just beneath the surface of their conscious minds. It’s nearly effortless for Artemis to awaken it. “Do you understand me, mortal?”      
    He nods rapidly.
    Artemis smiles and steps back. “Good. You may go now.”
    She turns on her heel, crisp as a soldier on parade, and walks gracefully toward the car with Pelea roaming ahead to sniff a tree trunk. Apollo glances at the boy, takes in the abject terror and awe on his face as he watches Artemis walk away, and gives the boy a smile that could be mistaken for friendly before he follows his sister. The walk is quiet, with only the swishing of their feet through dew-damp grass and Pelea’s deep whuffs as she scents the air. Artemis opens the back door and the hound leaps in happily.
    The twins climb into their seats and buckle their seatbelts, and Artemis drives them out of the city back toward Hecate’s farm. “Can’t you take me back to the apartment?” Apollo whines, not sure if he can face those girls when he can still remember Daphne morphing into a laurel tree to escape his touch.
    “I like to be there when they wake up. Someday, you will, too.”
    “After Greece, maybe.”
    “You’ve waited too long to apologize.”
    “I waited too long to learn my mistakes,” Apollo corrects.
    She smiles over at him, full of pride. “I knew you would, though. I hoped it would be centuries ago, but better late than never.” She shrugs, like a few centuries isn’t a big deal when you can never die. “If I’d known hunting was what would make you realize, I would have taken you with me a long time ago.”
    “Art, that was…. He looked at you like they all used to look at us. You were terrifying. I haven’t seen you like that in thousands of years. Agrotera, indeed.”
    She smiles, pleased. “Mortals haven’t changed much, really.” She turns up the long dirt driveway of Crossroads Farm. Hecate left the porch light on for them, but the windows are dark this time. Artemis puts the car in park and kills the engine before she turns in her seat and fixes her bright silver eyes on him. “So will you be here in the morning?”
    She’s really asking if he wants to see Laurel again, and Apollo knows it. And he does want to, but he can’t. Not yet. First he needs to see a different laurel, a tree nearly as old as the hills and twice as wise.
    He shakes his head. “I’ll be in Greece at first light. Tell Laurel,” he blows out a breath between pursed lips. “Tell her I’ll be back by dinner.”
    “I’ll tell her, if she asks,” Artemis promises, knowing she probably won’t. She hopes Apollo doesn’t pick up on that, but his face falls before he can stop it. She’s spent millenia reading his emotions, and her heart breaks into a thousand pieces for what must be the millionth time that night. She draws her twin into a hug. “Good luck, Apollo Akesios.”
    He wraps his arms around her. “I promise I won’t disappear for a century this time. This is my place now, just like yours.” He ends the hug and straightens, brows pinched together in the middle. “Should we end the lease on the apartment?”
    “No. That’s my base of operations in the city. I just let you crash there because you were a broke street musician.”
    Apollo huffs, offended. “Not anymore, though. I’ll see you tomorrow, Art.” He sighs and rolls his jaw. Artemis nods and opens the car door. When she reaches the porch and turns back to the car, the passenger seat is empty. She opens the door and steps into the kitchen. She hangs her gleaming silver bow on the hook by front door and tiptoes down the hallway.
    She peeks into three bedrooms, at the girls finally able to sleep peacefully, snoring hounds curled up at their feet. It’s not adoration like she once had, but it’s still a home, and these healing girls are just as much a family as her band of huntresses ever were. For what must be the first time that night, she thinks her heart might be whole.
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annnnd i’m supposed to be doing hw so that means it’s head canon time!
they do a q+a and someone asks about al’s nickname red (did it come from his hair or the fact that he blushes rly red) and race is like ;)) you should see how red he gets when- and al is like !!race!! and race is like WHEN i embarrass him mind out of the gutter al jeez and al’s face burns
al does a stream with tiny little braids in his hair bc race plays with his hair and race does a video where he has a bunch of butterfly clips n stuff in his hair bc al put them there and race isnt ever taking them off
race is slowly getting better at games and he’s like babe!!! there’s someone right behind you!!! and al turns and promptly gets shot point blank by race
jack was chilling on the couch once as they did a stream together and when he left they found a few drawings of them looking at the screens and also looking at each other and they’re like damn,,,,, we really do be in love
on april fools day race pours water over al and al starts freaking out and he’s like race oh my god the game setup the waters gonna ruin in oh my god oh no can i even afford an entire new setup oh god oh shit and race is like slowly panicking like babe oh crap i’m so sorry i’ll help i swear i didn’t think about that and al puts his head in his hands and race is like baby please don’t cry i’m so sorry
but al’s not crying he’s laughing, because the water didnt get into the console (race is smarter than that) and race totally fell for it and race just stops and he’s like you little-
for one of race’s videos he wants to try his art skills so he paints on al, and afterwards he’s just staring at shirtless al and al’s like uhh. you’re just staring at my abs babe and race is like oh my bad and then proceeds to stare at his arms
when they eventually do get engaged race posts smth and captions it smth about his fiancé but he’s so excited that he accidentally writes finance and everyone’s like ??? did he mean??? fiancé??? if so i’m happy for them if he’s genuinely this excited about a finance then cool i guess??
race makes an offhand comment abt stealing all of al’s shirts so he’ll just be shirtless and al is like sure race and race takes that as a challenge and the next stream al is wearing race’s hoodie (one that race had worn in multiple of his own vids) and he’s like so anyways he actually took my tops and race is like “hey at least you still have your bottom ;)” and al is like “ONE PEACEFUL STREAM RACE”
i love the hcs but for legal reasons i have to tell you to go work on your homework before you write any more because i have a ✨guilt complex✨
- race is a heathen and is constantly making jokes like this when he KNOWS albert is hyper-aware theyre on stream cause it embarrasses him b u t albert is the type that just,,,, constantly makes jokes like that regularly so if they’ve been on stream and he’s chatting with race or distracted by the discord’s banter or something he’ll casually make a joke about race using cover up on his neck in videos or something and chat will loose it and race just stares at him for a full 10 seconds like ‘😲’
- albert also did a whole stream with winged eyeliner cause race wanted to do his makeup and he refused to wash it off. race came in with bright red lipstick and left a massive kiss print on albert’s cheek before winking at the camera and walking out again to wash his face. albert 100% noticed but just left it there. race is in love with all the pictures of him from the stream with the butterfly clips and saves every piece of fanart from it to his phone for safe keeping.
- the thing i’m imagining is pubg and the animation on that makes me fucking cry laugh. just the head snapping back and then al’s character just crumbling while race is on the game floor cackling and albert is just blankly staring at his screen before he just turns to race and goes “you’re going to regret that.” very seriously. race stops laughing.
- race frames and hangs the art in their gaming room cause he thinks it’s cute. jack sees it one day like “guys- i have better ones you could’ve just a s k e d” and just gives race this massive box full of sketches of them cause they’re gross and couple-y and he teases them but they ARE a perfect character study for ‘fools in love’ and it makes for good art.
- i picture race as highly empathetic so he would immediately feel SO GUILTY if he thought albert was actually upset b u t albert cant even bring himself to feel bad cause race got trying to get him
- race is a massive al simp he frequently gets caught,,,, admiring his boyfriend (aka positively drooling over him) and it always makes albert slightly smug, which as we know, isn’t his usual state of being.
- sjhdbdhd race WOULD make a typo in engagement announcement post. albert’s comment is just “hahahhahaha FiNaNcE. good one babe” and race never ever lives it down.
- they have exactly zero peaceful streams he should be used to this by now. also he does dares for donations over $50 (cause he makes questionable choices) and someone drops $100 and just puts “i dare you to give race his hoodie back” and race just smiles like the cheshire cat. albert asks if this makes him a stripper. also when race says that “at least you still have your bottom ;)” line and winks DIRECTLY into the camera, al just gets up and pretends to leave the game room for dramatic effect.
yeah,,,,,, i’m still obsessed with this au thank you for the fantastic hcs
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nommy-thoughts · 4 years
Text
Mastication Concentration
Summary: Logan usually chews gum while he studies, but today he is out. Remus volunteers to take its place.
Contains: Hard-ish vore (idk exactly where it falls. There’s chewing, obviously, and even rough chewing at points, but the only injuries sustained are bruises). Brief mention of digestion.
Wordcount: 2.9 K
[more of my vore writing]
~~~~~
“Do you have any gum?”
The sides in the living room look up. Logan’s on the stairs, leaning over the banister and looking down at them.
“Gum?” Patton repeats.
Logan nods. “I’m out,” he says. “I’ve already drunk five mugs of tea, I can’t just keep making more. And chewlery is just too squeaky right now, and I’m trying not to destroy any more shirt collars. So, do you have any gum?”
They exchange glances. Nobody, it seems, has gum. Then Remus perks up excitedly. “Ooh!”
Logan, relieved, starts to say, “You have—”
“Me!”
Logan pauses. “What?”
“Chew on me!” Remus elaborates, bounding to his feet and hurrying over to the stairwell. He grabs a railing in each hand, looking up at Logan imploringly.
Logan makes a face. Then pauses. Reconsiders. “That… that actually might be a worthwhile stim,” he admits. Remus squeals happily, and Logan adds, “But no injuries. I don’t want blood in my mouth; I don’t like the taste.”
Remus rolls his eyes. “Oh, fine. I’ll be durable.” But he’s still grinning broadly. With a dramatic flourish, he summons the shrinking device. Scampering around the corner and up the stairs next to Logan, he sets it. Then, with a flash of sickly green light, he appears to vanish. Logan knows, however, that in reality, Remus has simply shrunk out of Logan’s eyeline. He looks down, and sure enough, there he is.
The device, no longer supported by Remus’s hands, falls from the air. It nearly strikes Remus in the head, missing by less than an inch, and crashes into the carpeted floor beside him. It bounces, skiddering off the step. It continues to fall, bounce, and roll its way down the entire flight of stairs, but nobody pays it much mind. They can always resummon it when they need it again.
Logan bends down, scooping up the now miniature Remus into his hand. He considers his fellow side for a moment, then nods, lifting Remus to his lips. A moment before he inserts him, however, Logan pauses.
“When was your last shower?”
“Does Thomas’s last night count?”
Logan frowns. “As I recall, you just sat on the soap tray, making various random thoughts pop into Thomas’s head, and didn’t even get wet, let alone wash.”
“That’s true.”
“No, it doesn’t count. When did you last wash?”
Remus thinks back further, absently shimmying his shoulders as he does so. After a few moments, Logan sighs.
“Not recently enough,” he concludes. Remus in hand, Logan heads up the stairs. In the bathroom, he plops the shrunken creative side into the sink and turns it on. Squeezing a large dollop of hand soap into his palm, Logan begins to lather Remus up, rubbing the soap into his clothes and skin. Remus squirms. He’s not trying to get away, but he quite enjoys being a slippery problem, and if it means that Logan has to apply a bit more force to get the job done, well. Remus likes being manhandled.
Due to Remus’s constant movement, getting him clean takes rather longer than it needed to, but in the end, Logan is satisfied. He holds Remus directly under the streaming faucet to rinse off, considering the spluttering that results to be fair payback for making things difficult.
“Okay, you’re clean.”
Remus cheers. “Now eat me!”
“I’m not going to eat you,” Logan corrects. “I’m going to chew on you. There’s a difference.”
Remus shrugs. “Not a big one.”
“I suppose not.” Logan considers his shrunken friend for a few moments more, then nods, heading back toward his own room. Once inside, he sits down at his desk.
“C’mon,” Remus pleads. “Put me in your mouth already!”
Logan does so, head first to shut him up. Remus isn’t small enough to fit entirely inside his mouth, so his legs dangle from between Logan’s lips.
As Logan settles back into his study routine, he slowly begins to lick and suck on Remus like a piece of candy. He doesn’t taste like a piece of candy, but thanks to the sink bath Logan just gave him, he doesn’t taste bad, either. Along with the licks, Logan tugs absently on Remus’s ankle, like he might with the stick of a lollipop.
After about a minute, Logan summons the shrinking device with a gesture. He adjusts it, and he activates it again. Remus shrinks.
Logan slurps Remus the rest of the way into his mouth. Positioning him lengthwise along his lower left molars, Logan gently bites down. Remus is somewhat soft and squishy, but there’s some firmness to him too. Logan uses his tongue to move Remus across his mouth to the other side, trying a bite there too. He nods to himself. The sensation is different than that of gum or chewlery, sure, but he believes this will work. Logan returns to his studies.
Inside of Logan’s mouth, it is dark, and warm, and wet. In other words, it’s perfect. Logan’s tongue, bigger than Remus’s entire body, lifts him, crushing him against the roof of Logan’s mouth and knocking the air from his lungs with the force. Pinned in place by the enormous squishy muscle, Remus can’t even wiggle. Logan overpowers him without hardly trying. Echoing all around him, Remus hears an enormous glk as Logan swallows the saliva that had been building up around him.
He has never found the nerd more attractive than in this moment.
Logan’s tongue drops, and Remus drops with it. The large muscle tilts under him, rolling Remus around Logan’s mouth. He’s quickly dizzy and disoriented, and the first time that he has long enough to get his bearings is when Logan shifts him between his back teeth again so that Remus lies, sprawled on his front, across the bumpy teeth. They lift, pressing Remus’s back against the equally bumpy ceiling, and slowly squeeze all the air from his lungs. Logan holds him like that, delightfully snug, for several long seconds. Remus considers blacking out from the lack of oxygen, but decides that he’d rather stay conscious to enjoy the rest of the experience. If he gets bored — which he doesn’t expect to happen, but you never know, he’s had incapacitating boredom strike at the weirdest and most inconvenient moments before — he can pass out then.
After a while, the pressure releases. Remus gasps in a breath of — not fresh air, not really, he is inside a mouth, after all. But it doesn’t smell that bad, either. Unfortunately. All that dental hygiene must’ve given Logan un-bad breath. Actually, Remus realizes, he can smell some of that tea Logan said he drank, though not well enough to guess at what kind it was.
Logan bites him again, the same way. And again. It’s rhythmic, soothing. After a while, Logan moves him over to the other side, and does the exact same kind of crushing bite over there.
After he’s done that enough times that Remus has gotten used to it and is getting bored, Logan changes it up. He moves Remus to the front of his mouth and nibbles on Remus’s ankles with his front teeth. Since his ankles are, of course, boney, they don’t provide much give. If Logan hadn’t made him promise not to, this would have been a good opportunity to break something. Remus wonders, then, if breaking an ankle really would be a breach of that promise. On the one hand, Logan had said “no injuries,” which would technically include broken bones. On the other hand, the only reason he had given was blood, and if Remus just made sure his skin stayed intact, he wouldn’t bleed.
Before Remus could come to a decision, Logan moves him again. Apparently he didn’t like this position nearly as much as the one before. Logan’s tongue pushes at Remus, shoving his legs between teeth and lips, til he can feel the cold outer air on his toes. He wiggles them.
Logan nibbles on Remus’s calves now, which have more muscle to pad them, though not from all angles.
Remus decides that bruises are acceptable under their terms. Logan won’t feel a crunch or taste blood, but Remus will be able to tell the difference. And really, the way Logan’s biting him, his shins should be bruising. And now they are. Remus grins.
Logan shifts again before long. He pushes Remus even further out his mouth, so that Remus’s hips balance uncomfortably on Logan’s front teeth. They’ll be bruising too. His legs stick out of Logan’s mouth. Since his hips are still inside, and a fair portion of his thighs are supported by Logan’s lips, and since he’s lying on his face, meaning his knees bend up, not down, Remus’s legs don’t dangle. He wonders if he’s big enough to kick Logan in the nose, but before he can try, Logan pinches his legs between his fingers, rendering him immobile. Then Logan bites.
His teeth slip off Remus’s hips, thrusting into his stomach instead. Remus’s stomach, having no bones in it, offers considerably less resistance than Logan was probably expecting, and Logan’s teeth sink deep.
Remus nearly pukes. The only thing that stops him from actually doing so is the realization that if he throws up in Logan’s mouth, Logan will spit him out and probably not put him back in again, perhaps not ever. So Remus swallows the bile, forcing it to stay down with sheer willpower.
The pressure against his gut releases, and Remus gulps down air. He has only a second’s reprieve before Logan bites down again, but this time it’s a bit slower, a bit gentler. He still presses his teeth far enough into Remus’s midsection that the shrunken Creativity muses that if not for his promise of no injuries, he’d be bitten in half by now.
Logan seems to like the squishiness of Remus’s gut. He keeps him there for a good while, squishing Remus’s stomach in on itself with his teeth and making its contents want to squeeze up and out his throat each time. It takes a lot of Remus’s concentration to keep the mix of acid and partly-digested food inside, until he remembers that he can simply banish it from reality. It takes only a quick gesture to do so, and then, stomach empty, Remus can finally enjoy the sensation of being chewed on without distractions.
Two bites later, Logan presses his teeth hard into Remus’s stomach, and then slowly pulls his lower jaw back, effectively heimliching Remus. It’s a good thing Remus had banished his breakfast, because otherwise, there was no way he’d be able to keep it down. Logan rocks his teeth forward again, not stopping when they bump Remus’s pelvis. Slowly, Remus finds himself being pushed out of Logan’s mouth. He can feel Logan’s upper teeth scraping along his back, bumping each vertebra as they go.
He can feel cold air on his butt. He’s more outside Logan’s mouth than in, at this point. Logan’s upper teeth are behind Remus’s shoulders, shoving his face down into Logan’s tongue, and his lower teeth, though considerably less deep into Remus’s stomach without an opposing force to hold him in place, force Remus’s butt to stick up in the air.
Logan holds him there for just a second before reversing directions. His teeth slide up Remus’s belly until they catch on the bottom of his ribcage. Slowly, he’s dragged back inside Logan’s mouth, back to where he started. Logan’s teeth press harder and harder into him as they go, smushing Remus’s organs. (He’s not exactly sure what he’s got right there, but he’s pretty sure there are some organs getting smushed right now. Maybe a spleen? Yeah, Logan’s probably smushing Remus’s spleen.)
After Logan’s got Remus back where he started, he does it again. And again. Over and over, Logan pushes and pulls Remus around, not once releasing the pressure. He doesn’t exactly heimlich Remus again, since his teeth are sinking in at the wrong spot for that, but Remus feels reasonably certain that his spleen is paste by the time Logan switches it up again.
Logan slurps Remus all the way into his mouth, and for a few seconds, the lack of crushing pressure is disorienting. Remus lies on his face, catching his breath.
Then Logan tilts his tongue, and Remus rolls like a log til he lands on something hard and bumpy. Logan’s teeth, he realizes. He’s on his side, facing Logan’s cheek — he thinks; it’s too dark to actually see, but based on the direction he’d rolled and the side he’s lying on, he’s pretty sure Logan’s cheek is in front of him, and his tongue behind — with one arm flopped over him and the other pinned awkwardly underneath. His head smarts from striking the tooth, and so does one knee.
He’s only given half a second to make these observations, because Logan immediately bites down. He chomps, really, with enough force to immediately break all of Remus’s ribs if only he hadn’t promised not to get hurt. The teeth separate, and Remus finds himself suspended for a moment, the soft flesh of Logan’s cheek in front of him and the slightly rougher tongue behind supporting him so he does not fall. Logan chomps again, and this time as he releases, he spins Remus with tongue and cheek so that Remus lands on his face once more. Chomp. Spin. Remus lies on his other side. Chomp. Spin. Now on his back. Chomp. Spin. Back to the first side.
It occurs to Remus, as Logan continues to aggressively chew on him, that the nerd is finally treating him as what he’s standing in for, as gum. Remus isn’t quite as squishy, but Logan doesn’t appear to mind.
Remus wonders if Logan will try to blow a bubble with him. That might be fun, being stretched out like gum.
Logan doesn’t, though. He just chews Remus up for several minutes, not even pausing to shift him to the other side. Vaguely, between bites, Remus wonders what the nerd is studying right now. What emotions translate to chewing so intensely? Is Logan reading something exciting? Something infuriating? Is he trying to puzzle out some twisty bit of logic? It doesn’t really matter in the moment, but Remus still finds himself curious.
Eventually, Logan’s bites slow again. He grips Remus (lying on his face again) between his teeth and, almost gently, especially compared to moments before, slowly crushes the air out of his lungs. Remus’s spine goes pop pop pop. There’s a particularly satisfying pop at his hips. After a second, Logan releases the pressure. He shifts his jaw around, dragging his teeth across Remus’s back. Remus sighs happily, relaxing. It’s almost like a massage.
The sensation is pleasant enough that Remus almost falls asleep. Perhaps he does fall asleep. He certainly loses track of what Logan does after that.
Some time later, he has no idea how long, Logan spits him out. Well, no, he’s gentler about it than that. Logan sticks a finger in his mouth and uses it to drag Remus out. He pinches the spit-covered Creativity between thumb and forefinger, looking him over.
“Did you enjoy yourself?” Logan asks.
Remus grins and flips him off — almost his equivalent of a thumb’s up, in the current context. “Why’d you stop?”
“I have concluded my studies for the time being,” Logan answers. “Thank you for your assistance. You were quite helpful.”
Remus beams.
“Would you be amenable to repeating this experience at a future date?”
Remus grins. “You wanna chew on me again?”
Logan nods. “As I said, you were quite the aid to my concentration.”
Remus wiggles happily. “Yeah I wanna do it again!”
“Excellent. Would you like me to swallow you now?”
“Will you digest me?”
“No.”
Remus droops, pouting. “Aww.”
“However,” Logan adds, “I intend to get an actual snack as well, and I have no objections if you wish to observe as it digests.”
Remus considers for half a second, then nods, accepting those terms. “Can I get stomach burns?”
“No, I would prefer not to digest you at all, even superficially.”
“Fiiiine.” But there’s no hiding that Remus is eager to be eaten, even with the restrictions. “Chew me up one more time before you swallow?”
“Very well. Anything else?”
Remus shakes his head, reaching up toward Logan’s mouth and making grabby hands. Logan chuckles.
“In you go, then,” he says, lifting Remus up. He dangles him above his gaping maw, and Remus stares down into it, his heart thudding in delighted terror. Then Logan drops him.
Remus screams as he falls, flailing in the air. He lands on Logan’s tongue, and the mouth snaps shut after him. Before he can get his bearings, Logan’s shoved him back between his teeth, chewing forcefully on him.
Then Logan swallows, and Remus slides head first down his throat, whooping all the way. He gets stomach acid in his mouth when he splashes into it.
Bobbing back up to the surface, Remus flicks his fingers, creating a light so he can see his surroundings. At the moment, he appears to be the only solid in here. But not for long, he thinks with a smirk, settling down against the wrinkled wall.
Maybe he can even convince the nerd to leave him in here through dinner. If Logan objects to Remus skipping a meal, Remus can just have some of Logan’s portion. Isn’t like the big guy would miss the amount it’d take to fill Remus’s tiny gut right now, anyway.
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