#brush your teeth kids even royalty needs to do it

[sheeple]

Heirs of Hogwarts | part 1

Genre(s): Nuisance to Lovers / Fake dating / Fluff / No Voldy au Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Mattheo Riddle x Hufflepuff!Reader Summary: After finding out your (now ex)boyfriend cheated on you with the girl he told you not to worry about, you decide to get into a fake relationship with the kid of another founder of Hogwarts. What could go wrong? Warning(s): Cheating boyfriend (Matt could never) / Matt is a cheeky shit A/n: Kinda tried something new with the notes. Lmk if you like/dislike it [Masterlist] [part 2] [part 3]

There is a certain expectation that comes with having a well-known surname. People expect you to act in a way that befits a Malfoy, Abbott, Prewett or any other name on the Sacred Twenty-Eight list. And while there is no person left who carries the Gaunt name anymore, a Riddle is as good as a Gaunt in the eyes of the Pure-Blood community.

The one thing nobody realises that also carries on for the ones who are literally Wizarding World royalty. Like you. A Hufflepuff. No, not like the house. But your surname is literally Hufflepuff. Helga Hufflepuff is your great-grandmother many times over. And it sucks.

You're expected to be the embodiment of Hufflepuff House. Be kind, be ready to help everyone who asks, be patient, be humble, be just, be good at Herbology. You hate Herbology! The dirt under your nails. The smell of the classroom. The way magical plants are not really safe for children to be around. I mean... hello? Mandrakes? Yeah, didn't think so.

And it's not like you're not all those things. You are kind, you do help others when asked, you are humble, maybe not as patient as you should be, and just. Just not all the time. 

Like right now. Right now you are not patient with Hannah and Susan for hogging the bathroom. You've slept like shit and you are hungry. So, you've decided to go to breakfast without them and have them join you later. You can always brush your teeth after breakfast

As you walk across the common room, you greet your Great-Grandmother in passing. "Morning, Meemaw."

"Good morning my little Badger!", she calls after you cheerfully, earning a couple snickers from your housemates. You choose to ignore them and make your trek up the stairs in silence, giving every student who greets you a polite smile.

You don't even know half the people who call out your name when you pass them. They don't even use your name. Just a variation of Hufflepuff. Huff. Puff. Badger. Queen Badger — you really hate that one. You nearly punched a guy for calling you the Top Notch Yellow One. But to be fair, you were in an abysmal mood that day.

By now you've got a pro at tuning out the stares when you walk into the Great Hall. It's mostly the first years who stare at you with wide eyes and mouths agape once they learn who you are. 

You plop down at a free spot and start to plate up some food and pour in juice. Just as you're mid-sip, you feel someone loom over you.

"Good morning", gets whispered in your ear before your boyfriend takes a seat next to you.

You hum and slump against his shoulder. Malcolm pats your head as he knows that is the best attempt at getting a response from you before you've got a semblance of food in your stomach. 

Malcolm Preece and you have been dating for almost a year now. He's a year above you and on the Quidditch team. Your friends don't really like him — and if you are completely honest with yourself neither do you. He's too possessive. He always needs to know where you are and with whom. It also drives you absolutely up the walls.

It has always been expected of you to be in a respectable relationship by the sixth year. Even non-Slytherin families have that kind of pressure. Surprising hmm? You needed your parents off your back and Malcolm was there. Do you feel bad for the guy? Yeah, of course. And it's not like you don't care about him but it's more an obligation; the kissing and the touches and the handholding.

"Guess what", you grumble, whipping your mouth. Malcolm hums as he butters his bread. "My first class of the day is Herbology."

Malcolm laughs and shakes his head. He places a kiss on your hair before saying, "I know. You've been whining about it all last evening. Is there absolutely nothing you can find to enjoy about the subject. Or why don't you ask Sprout if you can drop the course?"

You give him a look. "You know I can't do that. Everybody in my family graduated top of their class and I am not about to be the first one of my siblings to royally piss off my parents. Amelia came close when she almost dropped Meemaw's cup." 

Your boyfriend laughs but doesn't say anything else. Because your hate for Herbology doesn't come from your general dislike of dirt. It comes from the first thing you see when you walk into the glasshouse.

You share many classes with other houses. You also share many classes with Slytherin. That also means you share many classes with Mattheo Riddle. He's a pompous prat who likes to make your days worse for absolutely no reason. 

Normally you sit on the other side of the classroom and ignore him and his friends. He's not above pulling your hair or bumping against you in the hallways. It's petty. And you have no idea why or how it started in the first place.

Herbology is the only class you actually have to interact with Mattheo. For the others you usually sit with Hannah or Susan. But Professor Sprout wanted to hustle up the usual groups and pair random students with each other. That's how you got stuck with Mattheo.

"What is it, princess? Scared a little mud will ruin your manicure?", he says with a shit-eating grin as you put on gardening gloves. You shoot him a glare but continue to tend to you Fluxweed.

"Looks like your Fluxweed can use a little manicure." You give a pointed look at the sad sprig that used to be a plant and continue to do your own thing. "That reminds me, we have to finish our report on Fluxweed. Do you have any time this week? I mean, between your busy schedule of pestering first years and tripping up Neville Longbottom."

You hear a snicker behind you. Hannah holds up her hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter and you wink at her while Mattheo sends her a scalding glare.

"Sure", sneers Mattheo, "if you have any room between tea parties and snogging that sad sack you call a boyfriend."

"I don't have-", you want to interject but you know it has no use. Only if Professor Sprout wouldn't be hoovering around you all the time you would have 'accidentally' stomped on his feet.

You turn your back towards him and walk towards the supply closet, searching for a pair of shears. But Professor Sprout keeps them on the top shelf. As you want to grab your wand, a hand suddenly tugs at the ribbon in your hair. 

With a gasp, you whip around and you are met with Mattheo's chest, his tie hanging loosely around his neck. He gives you a bored look before turning around and walking back towards his table. 

You shake your head and turn around. When you want to Accio the shears to you, you see that they've been placed on the shelve at eye height. Huh.

Once your classes before lunch are finally over you walk out of the classroom with a smile as you spot Malcolm waiting for you. But your smile soon falters at the person standing next to him. Gladys Prescott stands way too close to your boyfriend. She's twirling a lock of hair with her finger as she laughs obnoxiously at one of Malcolm's jokes. They're great, but not that funny.

When you first started dating Malcolm you voiced your questions about his and Gladys' relationship. You were under the impression that they were dating because of how close they were. You and your friends were surprised when he asked you out on a Hogsmeade date.

The worst thing is that Malcolm swears nothing's going on between the two. That they're just friends. But the way he looks at her and treats her makes you glower. It's not that you're jealous. Just... you don't want to get berated by your parents for choosing the wrong partner.

"Ready?", you plaster on a wide smile, clutching your books in your hands.

Gladys and Malcolm look like they are snapped out of their little world before Malcolm registers that it's you and he returns your smile. "You don't mind if Gly joins us, do you?"

You turn to the girl, who gives you a fake ass big smile. "Of course not. The more the merrier! Now, tell me about your morning."

The two of them speak more to each other and don't bother to include you. Resting your chin on your hand, you look around the Great Hall. Susan and Hannah are doing their Prefect duties so they are unable to join you for lunch. 

Tuning out Malcolm and Gladys, your eyes flicker to the other students who are enjoying their lunch. You suddenly make eye contact with Mattheo over at the Slytherin table. He raises his brows at you. You mimic his expression before continuing with your surveying. But when you look back he's still looking at you.

His expressionless eyes flicker towards your boyfriend and Gladys before back to you. He raises a single eyebrow at you, silently asking if you tolerate it. 

You send him a pinched look back before zoning back into the conversation. Malcolm and Gladys are laughing loudly and Gladys has a hand clasped over his. The hold on your fork tightens and you swear you feel it bend in your hold.

You stand up abruptly. Gladys and Malcolm pull their hands away like they're burned and look up at you. "I'm... I have to ask Professor Slughorn something before class begins." You think up the excuse on the spot.

"Oh... Do you want me to walk you..?" Malcolm looks at you with big eyes.

But you shake your head. "No. I wouldn't want to pull you away from your fascinating conversation." You give Gladys a sickly sweet smile, which she doesn't return.

Instead of making a left once you leave the Great Hall, you keep on walking until you're at the edge of the forest. You survey if nobody's following you. With a deep breath, you crouch down and feel your bones and skin snap and pull.

One thing that nobody seems to know about Helga Hufflepuff is that she is a born Animagus. And she has given the ability to transform into a badger at will to all her descendants. The Ministry knows about it and every Hufflepuff descendant gets tested at age ten. By then most children are already used to the transformation.

And you love it. It helps you clear your head and release frustration. As of late you've been doing it a lot more. 

Your little legs move easily over the forest floor towards your little burrow. You know, the Dark Forest isn't that scary when you're one of the animals. Mostly because you know which sides of the forest you need to dodge. Badgers are vicious but spiders are a paint in the butt. 

The afternoon is spent frolicking in flower fields, munching on berries and nuts, and reinforcing the little stick bridges you made for your fellow badgers and woodland creatures over the many rivers that pass through the forest.

By the time you return to the castle, it's already dark and you're tired. You want to curl up in your bed and hear about Susan and Hannah's day. 

But something stops you in your way when you pass a dorm. A whiney, feminine voice comes from Malcolm's room. Gladys. "For how long do you have to pretend to like that stuck-up brat?"

You inch closer to the door and peer between the crack. Malcolm and Gladys are on his bed, her between his legs and they're pecking each other's lips, naked. Your chest tightens at this display of intimacy Malcolm never wanted to show you. Too 'old-school'. Or so he claimed.

Malcolm hums. "I know, Pookie. But next year I'm graduated and I want a good job. If I manage to sit it out any longer Mr Hufflepuff might recommend me for a good position at the Ministry."

Anger bubbles from within you and you turn around, marching out of the common room. You ignore the calls of your name and keep on walking until you're outside and on one of the old defence walls of the school. Your thinking spot.

It doesn't hurt that he is cheating on you. You weren't blind. What hurts is that he is using you to get further in life. He's just like the others. 

Your shoulders tense up at the sound of someone making them up the stairs and the smell of cigarettes. Great. You really need him to bother you right now.

Mattheo halts once he spots you sitting between the battlements, your feet dangling off the edge. He blows out a puff of smoke before sitting next to you. Out of politeness, he offers his cigarette. He doesn't expect you to accept it and take a drag.

"I didn't know you smoked", muses Mattheo as he watches you blow out the smoke mesmerised.

You glance at him while giving the cigarette back. "I don't."

The two of you stay silent, neither of you wanting or knowing what to talk about. Until it's Mattheo who breaks the silence. "What has the pretty Princess so stressed?"

"I'm not stressed." You opt to ignore the princess part for your sanity.

"Sure. And I can't talk to snakes. You're destroying your nailbeds", he points out and you look down. Your fingers are picking at the skin around your thumbnails. You've managed to make it bleed.

Sticking your thumb in your mouth to suck the blood away, you stare defiantly at the darkness that envelops the forbidden forest. "Malcolm's been cheating on me", you say after some contemplating, eyeing the Slytherin boy next to you.

Mattheo raises one brow unimpressed. "What?", he asks when you give him a look, "do I have to act surprised?" He dramatically fake gasps. "Oh, my Merlin! He did not!" He impersonates an American Valley Girl while covering his mouth with his hand.

You roll your eyes annoyed. Of course, you shouldn't have brought up the subject to Mattheo fucking Riddle. "Forget it if you're going to be a dick about it." You push yourself up and dust off your hands.

But Mattheo's hand around your wrist stops you and he leans back, his eyes somewhat apologetic. "No, don't go. I'm sorry. How did you find out?"

This time you raise your eyebrows. Mattheo Riddle never apologises. What in the... 

Against your better judgment, you sit back, your hands folded in your lap. "I just came back and I heard him talk about it with Gladys. How he wants my dad to give him a good job when he graduates." You take a deep breath, the nicotine tickling your nose. "I had a hunch he was fooling around with her. But using me, that hurts, you know?" 

He nods as you glance at him. Mattheo knows. He, just like you, is used to people only talking to or befriending him because they want something from him. They think getting in his good graces gets them somewhere. Absolutely not.

"You knew?"

You hum. Your fingers start to attack your nailbeds again as you think back to the many times you've had to bite your tongue. To keep face in front of the others at school. "I needed someone to keep my parents off my back. My parents expect all of us to have a steady partner by our sixth year. My siblings did it, but only the oldest actually had a girlfriend. The twins just told me to find someone to play the part."

A groan escapes you as you bury your hands in your face. "And now someone will rat to their parents about my break-up, who in turn tell my parents and then I'll get a stern letter about my future. This whole break-up is more an irritation than a heartache."

The Slytherin boy next to you is deadly silent. Why would you be so stupid to air your grievance to him? It's not like he cares. Standing up for real this time, you give him a curt nod. "Thank you for listening, Riddle. Best not to mention our meet-up with anyone, alright? Goodnight." 

You make your way back towards your dorm and crash into your bed. Pressing your face against your pillow, you try your hardest to forget today.

But as suspected, sleep doesn't come easily. Or not at all. And you feel like a zombie walking towards breakfast, your friends giving you worried looks after you explained what happened last night — minus the Mattheo part. 

"I swear if one more busybody comes up to you to say they're sorry", grumbles Hannah as she gives the students around you glares. She balls up her fists and punches the air in front of her. You and Susan chuckle while students around you look at her weirdly.

It's the worst when you enter the Great Hall. The general breakfast noise quiets as your peers start to whisper when you pass them. You keep your eyes focused on a far-off point until you are at your usual breakfast spot.

The three of you eat mostly in silence. Hannah and Susan try to engage you in a conversation but you just play with your food. 

"Can we talk?"

You tense up and drop your fork. Slowly, you turn around and look up at Malcolm. He has a guilty look on his face and it angers you. "I don't know. Can we?" You cock your head condescendingly to the side.

You turn back around and start abusing the piece of toast on your plate. Malcolm lays a hand on your shoulder but it gets promptly ripped off by Hannah. "I strongly advise you to back off."

Malcolm scoffs, looking down at the girl who stands protective in front of you. "Or what? Can't I speak with my girlfriend?"

You slowly rise and turn around to face the prick. "Don't speak to her like that, you insufferable twat. You best believe my dad will make sure you won't get a job anywhere in the Ministry, not even as a wand polisher", you bare your teeth, your chest raising rapidly. The Great Hall has fallen silent, watching the exchange.

"You little bitch." Malcolm's jaw ticks and he balls a fist. But the voice of a teacher stops him.

"Mister Preece, I would strongly advise you to step away from Miss Hufflepuff if you don't want to lose your position on the Quidditch team." Professor McGonagall comes striding from the teacher's table, where they could have seen the interaction between the two of you clear as day.

Malcolm's eyes flicker from you towards the professor and back. "This isn't over", he grumbles before leaving the Great Hall.

"Thank you, Professor." You give the woman a small smile as you collect your schoolbag. She waves you away and you grab both Hannah and Susan's hands, dragging them out of the Great Hall, the stares the whole ordeal created starting to creep you out.

Hannah grumbles all the way towards Charms how's she going to 'beat his face in the next time he dares to look at you'. Susan and you share a look but you're glad you've got Hannah to look out for you.

It's again Hannah who sends glares around as the three of you take place at your usual spot — upper bench all the way at the end. That way the three of you can whisper among each other without bothering anyone.

The class goes as usual before a paper bird lands before you. You look surprised to the other side of the classroom. Mattheo Riddle is already looking at you and miming for you to unfold the bird.

You raise your brows at his note. He has such a chicken-scratch handwriting.

"What is it?", asks Susan in a whisper, leaning closer to you to read the note. A soft gasp escapes her and she looks over at Mattheo. Who's eyes are still trained on you, by the way. "Since when are you and Mattheo Riddle sending notes to each other?!"

"Since never!", you hiss, "what time are we done today?"

Hannah looks up from her book. "Three. Why?" She snatches the note out of Susan's hands and her eyes trail over the words. "He needs to fix his handwriting, my brother in Christ. Is 'Fluxweed report' some kind of secret code?"

You snort and swat her chest, earning a smug smile from the girl.

"I think it's rather romantic", says Susan, the hopeless romantic that she is.

A grimace forms on your face. "What is so romantic about finishing a Herbology essay?"

Susan sighs exorbitantly as she rolls her eyes. "You're officially single now! Free to go and explore and find someone who you really like! Mattheo obviously has seen his chance and took it!"

You and Hannah look at Susan as if she just swallowed a flobberworm. She gives the two of you an exasperated look. "What?! Isn't it like so romantic if the two descendants of Hogwarts founders end up dating? I bet ten galleons that he asks you out on a Hogsmeade date."

You huff out a breath. "Fine. But if he ends up humiliating me I'm going to enjoy those ten galleons with all my heart. Now, what do I write him back?"

"Oh! You should ask to meet at those tables at the back of the library where nobody really comes. That way you two could really cosy up."

You turn towards Hannah, feeling betrayed. "I thought you were with me on this?"

Hannah shrugs. "I'm always down for some drama. Besides, he has been staring at you and I always wondered when he would make his move."

"Since when has Mattheo Riddle been staring at me?", you ask genuinely shocked.

"Since like forever! He always manages to look away just in time. You were also too busy with him who we won't name. Bad joojoo."

You ignore Hannah's observation and pen an answer back.

You wait to send it towards him when Flitwick isn't looking before chucking the balled-up paper towards the other side of the classroom and hitting him in the face.

You clasp a hand over your mouth while you and your friends stifle your laugh. Mattheo unfolds the paper, his eyes following every letter you wrote before he shows a thumbs up. 

"Dibs on being you guys' child's Godparent", whispers Susan with a grin and you elbow her in the ribs.

You try to bring your focus back to Flitwick, but you keep on glancing back at the curly-haired boy across the room. Has he some sort of plan to ask you so publicly to study? What is his motive? It can't only be studying, right?

Throughout the day you've grown quite nervous about meeting Mattheo. If it wasn't for your stupid friends and their stupid words you wouldn't have thought about this afternoon like any different from any other Herbology class. 

For Merlin's sake! You just broke up with your boyfriend and your friends are already pushing you onto the next. You wanted to take it slow for a while and enjoy the rest of your year without the worry of having to please a guy!

You fix your hair and uniform behind a bookcase as you see Mattheo already sitting at the table. With a curt breath and nod to yourself, you walk up to the table and take place in front of him. "Hi. Sorry if you've been waiting for long." You send him a small smile as you grab your book and notebook out of your bag. "It takes more time than I imagined to get from Divignation to here."

Mattheo gives you a half-smile and waves away your apologies. "Don't worry. I just got here too actually. So... what needed to be in that essay again?"

The two of you work together surprisingly well. If Mattheo isn't throwing his snide remarks around anyway. You also don't feel the need to be as snappy as you usually are with him. It's actually... nice? For once. 

As you're writing the last part of the essay, you feel his eyes on you. You look back up and raise your brows, silently asking what his deal is.

"I was thinking", he begins.

You let out a chuckle. "That's dangerous."

Ignoring your quip, he continues, "you need your parents off your back, right? And I imagine that you would like to smite Preece after that embarrassing stunt he pulled this morning."

You lean back with your eyes narrowed. "I wouldn't quite call it that. But continue."

Mattheo licks his bottom lips as he instead leans close to you, his voice softening. "Go out with me. Just a couple of dates so that you're seen with me. You know it will drive him nuts seeing you move on so quick."

You contemplate it for a moment or two. He is right. Malcolm always was a bit too paranoid for your taste when you talked with a boy. 

He hums. "So you agree?"

"What do you out of it? This all is a bit too suspicious."

He laughs and he runs his tongue over his teeth. "You don't believe me that I'm just content with having a pretty girl by my side?" When you shake your head he grins. "Smart girl. Maybe by 'dating' you, it will pull Preece's attention away from Quidditch and they'll lose the cup."

"So I'm sabotaging my own house?", you muse, your eyes flickering between his own.

Something seems to falter inside Mattheo's eyes for a second before a teasing smile grows on his face. "Well, you can't have everything princess."

Huming, you fall back into your chair. "Sure. When and where will our first 'date' be?", you use air quotations when you say date.

"I've heard that Saturday is going to be a sunny day."

"Sure. Eleven okay? We could meet up in the Clocktower courtyard. That way a lot of people see us leave together."

And with that, quite casually, your totally not fake date with Mattheo Riddle is agreed.

Taglist (bold means I couldn't tag you): @mylosz0 @kermits-bitch

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter scenarios #harry potter x reader #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle scenarios #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo riddle x you #hogwarts #hogwarts scenarios #hogwarts x reader #hogwarts x y/n #hogwarts x you #mattheo #mattheo scenarios #mattheo x reader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo x you #hufflepuff!reader

[protags-fic-blog]

Hello and happy new year! and happy holidays too if you celebrated. Theres no rush to get to this or anything I promise, I just came here because I don’t know any other blogs that do otome self insert requests lol

I’ve been feeling really down lately and I was wondering what guys you think would be really gentle and sweet caring with their partners? I could just really use someone whos caring right now. but no rush for sure because I know it’s a busy time of year! thank you dear

Want to send in a request? Go ahead!

my beloved anon <3 i totally understand you. Winter is real rough on me, I usually need someone caring too. If you're looking to play: Ichiya from VariBari, Ikki and Shin from Amnesia (any if you're playing the fandisc). If you like Stardew Valley you could play through Elliott's route (i love him i love love love him)

if you just want to watch something (reading can be hard), I recommend watching The Princess Bride. But! Let’s do some headcanons now. Under the cut, we have: Ichiya Mitsumori, Masaomi Asahina, and some amnesia boys!

Ichiya Mitsumori

I can guarantee he would be gentle. He knows what it’s like to be ignored, so there’s no way he’d look over any problem you have.

Silent hugs. Any pain you feel is immediately obvious to him. You don’t need to tell him about it, you only need to ask for him to be there and he will.

He will cook. He will clean. No depression nest for you!

Would convince you to do things to make you feel better (showering, getting dressed, brushing hair and teeth) by saying he’ll do it with you

Masaomi Asahina

He’s a doctor, so he’s tend to your physical wounds very carefully.

So so patient. He gets it from working with kids, ofc. but this means he’s a great listener. Even if you feel like you’re wasting time and just going on for the sake of dramatics, he’d say it’s good that you’re telling someone (and is honored you’re choosing to tell him)

I can’t explain how but you just feel the love when he’s near. His mere presence is a reminder of the love in your life

of course…. With one Asahina brother comes all the others. Expect lots of group hugs.

there’s one REALLY good fic (idk how to say this but it’s a 100/10 for me) that I reviewed early for him. Really recommend reading it. Link to my review (and the fic link) here: recommendation

Amnesia Boys

Ikki has the idea of ‘treat you like royalty’ stuck in his head and it will never leave

Again he’d do anything for you, but please don’t ask him to cook. For his sake and for your health. But he’d go great lengths to get any food you want.

Toma is so so protective. And yeah, while he may not always be gentle if he gets upset, he’s definitely caring.

Shielding from the outside world? Check. Hunting down anyone who talks shit about you? Check.

Ukyo would for sure be gentle. After the whole time loop thing, he’s trying to atone for what he did. You can try and tell him it’s too much and it’s fine, but he’d never tell you that he just likes being nice to you

He makes you pretty for fun. He’ll give the excuse that it’s for a photo and you’re helping him envision it, but you both know he mainly does landscapes

Braiding each others hair omggggg. Braid train. Even if you do the worst braid ever and get his hair knotted, he’ll wear it like that for the rest of the day

#amnesia memories #brothers conflict #variable barricade #mitsumori ichiya #ukyo amnesia #ikki amnesia #toma amnesia #protag-writes #ask #add to masterlist

[secretfantasyspace]

cool and dorky

#the first picture is literally my favorite #how does he looks so beautiful #tell me your secrets noctis #noctis lucis caelum #noctis #ffxv #final fantasy #final fantasy xv #square enix #ps4 #sony #brush your teeth kids even royalty needs to do it

[simkhira]

I Have 300+ Gameplay Mods?! & Yes, They All Work Together...

Yes, you read that correctly. I have over 300 gameplay mods / overrides in my game. 340 to be exact. & Yes, they all work just fine together. By that I mean hardly any last exceptions / errors. So if you are looking for ways to spice up your game - here you go, sis:

⭐ = my ultimate faves

PLEASE SEE ALL 300+ LINKS ON YOUR MOBILE DEVICE! desktop tumblr won’t let us be great.

BIG DISCLAIMER: Use these mods at your own risk! Just because all 300+ of these mods work for me, does not mean they will work for you. ALSO - when patch day comes, do not refer to this list for the most up-to-date versions of mods… I will only be updating this list when I feel like I need to.

O K A Y

let’s start with... the basics:

MC Command Center ⭐

UI Cheats Extension ⭐

More Columns in CAS ⭐

No Mosaic ⭐

CAS Background

CAS Blob Remover

CAS Immersive Lighting

CAS Tidy Accessories + Details

New Loading Screens

Cube Map Remover ⭐

Into the Light (Lighting Mod)

Out of the Dark (Lighting Mod)

Twinkle Toes (Lighting Mod)

No Fade on Sims and Objects

Build/Buy Camera (Tab Mode) ⭐

Lot Trait Effects Hider

Smaller Plumbob ⭐

& then you need... realistic socialization:

Chat Pack ⭐

Whim Overhaul ⭐

Meaningful Stories ⭐

Personality Please

Better Elders

More Face to Face Conversation

Call Over Sims (Higher Distance)

Call Anytime + Chat Longer on the Phone

Unlisted Phone Numbers ⭐

Low Fun is Boring

Family Matters (Share Big News with Family Members)

Share More News ⭐

Congratulate More

Ask What Happened More

Conversation Tweaks

Chat Standing Still

No Stand Up to Greet

No Rude Intro Animation

No Flirty Animation

Apology Fix (Don’t Apologize if Your’re the Victim)

Angry Walk-style Only When VERY Angry

Less Intrusive Conversations

NPC’s Get Out of My Convo

Autonomous Parenthood Social Interactions

Autonomous Social Interactions

Reduced Idle Chatting

Know Your Coworkers / Classmates ⭐

More Away Actions

More Social Activities

Spend Weekend With

Teach Me the Rumbaism

now let’s talk about... realistic romance:

Chemistry System ⭐

Pillow Talk After Woohoo ⭐

No Shy First Kiss

No Woohoo Dance

Shower Woohoo Tweaks

No Romance for Family

Restricted Romance Interactions

Less Jealousy

Simda Dating App

Can I Come Over?

Date Night Event

Movie Night Event

Set Family Relationships ⭐

Set Extended Family Relationships ⭐

Bathroom Privacy Tweak

Bridal Shower Event

Bachelor(ette) Party Event

Auto Engagement / Wedding Ring ⭐

Vacation Weddings

Sit at Weddings

Better Wedding Presents ⭐

Honeymoon Event

Buy More Gifts from Phone

Ask for Romantic Massage

Realistic Divorce ⭐

Traumatic Divorce for Children

Improved Relationships

No Restaurant Bill When Invited ⭐

Faster Cooking at Restaurants ⭐

Better Food Quality at Restaurants

Finish Eating in Restaurants

Restaurant Guests Overhaul

Restaurant Sit Tweak

(can y’all tell that restaurants annoy me? lmao)

first comes love, then comes... pregnancy / toddler / kids / fur babies:

Ages Behavior Tweaks

Toddlers Spawn at Parks (with Parents)

More Children at Beaches

Pregnancy Overhaul

Rub Your Baby Bump (Small Pregnancy Overhaul)

Determine Baby’s Gender for All ⭐

Ultrasound Scans ⭐

Baby Shower Event

Amazing Birth (Rave About Your Delivery)

Advanced Birth Certificate ⭐

Sibling Care Tweaks

Make Less / Clean Less Mess

Auto Brush Teeth After Puking

Auto Put Activity Crafts into Inventory

Allow Toddlers to go to Services

No Call Out of High Chair

Toddler Power Nap

Better Toddler Milk

Better + Younger Nanny

Call a Babysitter ⭐

Call a Dog Walker

Shorter Dog Walks

Dog Walkers in Other Worlds

Scold All Pets

Sell Grown Up Pets

Pet Food Serving Overhaul

More Efficient Pet Brushing

Kids Can Walk Dogs

Kids Can Order Espresso

Kids Can Ride Bikes

Kids Have More Phone Interactions

Kids Can Cook

Kids Can Do Retail

Kids Can Garden

Kids Can Make Flower Arrangements

Kids Can Make Robots

Kids Can Workout

Kids Can Do Spa Activities

Kids Can Play Guitars

Kids Can Play Ping Pong

Birthday Anytime

Let Friends Age Up ⭐

No Auto Put Away Toys

No Auto Put Away Pet Toys

No Puddles Under Tubs (Toddler Bath)

Has to Pee Walk-style for Kids Only

Better Homework ⭐

Better Grade School ⭐

Better High School ⭐

Preschool for Toddlers ⭐

School Projects are Fun

More School Holidays

25 School Vacation Days

Prom Night Event ⭐

Sleepover Event

Pizza Party Event

Field Trip Event

Family Reunion Event

Pool Party Event

speaking of school... university:

Less Credits for Degree ⭐

University Costs More ⭐

University Holidays Fixed

Higher Scholarships ⭐

Rejection Letter

Harder Distinguished Degree Acceptance ⭐

Degree Required for Promotions

Faster Run to University Class

Teens Jump to University

Choose Your Helmet

Choose Your Roommates ⭐

Roommate Age-Checks

Roommate Significant Other Fix

Roommates No Random Outfit Changing

Roommates No Random Item Spawning in Dorms

Roommates No Spawning Meals

Roommates No Trash

Roommates Sleep All Night

Roommates Less Music

College Org Members Are Uni Students

Faster University Homework ⭐

Faster Tutoring Class

Copy Graduation Photos and Diploma

No Bad Microwave Buffs

No Ghosts on Campus

Sports Fixes

Game Day Event

Graduation Party Event

once you graduate... careers & aspirations:

Plan Career Outfit

Better Work Actions

Enlist in War ⭐

Live in Business

Faster Retail Actions

Faster Record / Edit Videos on Video Station⭐

Higher Acting Gig Payouts & Royalties ⭐

More Realistic Overmax Pay ⭐

Higher Payments for Paintings ⭐

Higher Royalties for Apps/Games ⭐

Higher Royalties for DJ Mixing ⭐

Higher Royalties for Lifestyle Brands ⭐

Higher Royalties for Song Lyrics ⭐

Higher Royalties for Music ⭐

Freelancer Edits are More Successful

Sketchpad No Fees

Campaign Rally Event

Visible Political Position

Watch Political Speeches at Podium

Retirement Party Event

The University Aspiration Pack ⭐

Accomplished Lady Aspiration

Family Aspiration

Grow Up Aspiration

Teacher’s Pet Aspiration

Knowledge Aspiration

Retirement Aspiration

Romance Aspiration

Famous Pastry Chef Aspiration

Twilight Years Aspiration

All-Rounder Aspiration

Programming Genius Aspiration

Travel and Culture Aspiration

Wellness Aspiration

9 to 5 Career Pack ⭐

Night Shift Career Pack ⭐

Part Time Career Pack ⭐

Fitness Career

Health and Beauty Career

Modeling Career

Journalism Career (Adult + Teen)

Trust Fund Career (Adult + Teen)

Welfare Recipient (Adult + Teen)

Saturday Jobs (Teens)

Oceanography Career (Teens)

Private Tutoring Career (Teens)

All Freelancer Careers (Teens)

Tutor (Odd Job)

Woohoo (Odd Job) - lmao

Art Show Event

hahaha... adulting sucks:

Basemental Alcohol ⭐

Happy Hour Event

SNB Realistic Bills ⭐

SNB Banking

Invest in Stocks

Lowered Thermostat Bills

Instant Thermostat ⭐

Auto Wrinkles for Adults

Life Decider 

House Warming Party (No More Fruitcake)

Door Knock Notification ⭐

Island Events Notifications ⭐

No Strangers Knocking at Your Door

Quick Showers / Baths ⭐

Shower + Bladder Reliever (don’t judge me)

Power Nap ⭐

Sleep All Night

Smarter Robot Vacuum

Functional Tide Pods

Clean Your Bedsheets

Auto Put Away Clothes

Auto Start/Dry Clothes

Laundry on Community Lots Costs

No Idle Laundry Animations / Sparkles

Don’t Prep Food Where You Angry Poop ⭐

Don’t Wash Dishes Where You Angry Poop ⭐

Eco Dishwasher

Faster Cooking ⭐

No Auto Set the Table

Ask to Cook, Bake, Grill

BBQ Event

Custom Food + Recipe’s ⭐

Custom Drinks + Recipe’s ⭐

Grannie’s Old Cookbook + Recipe’s ⭐

Bake Cupcakes in Oven

Coolers are Cooling

Advanced Fishing ⭐

Fishing Trip Event

Fish for Crabs, Lobster, & Shrimp

More Seafood Servings

More Snacks in Fridge

More Food at the Bar

More Food in the Cafe

Flea Market Every Sunday

Get to Church

just in case you... get famous:

No Fame Decay ⭐

Celebrities Never Reject Fans

Celebrities are Quarantined in Del Sol Valley ⭐

Get Famous Award Overhaul

Less Celebrity Reactions

Famous Sims Gain Followers Automatically

More Follower’s Resolution for Everyone

Free Staff (Chef, Barista, Bartender, etc.) ⭐

Gardeners and Maids on Weekends

Red Carpet Event

whatever you are... just be happy and healthy:

Fitness Controls ⭐

Balanced Calories ⭐

Go for a Walk

Hiking Increases Herbalism Skill

Power Workouts

Athletic Outfit in Winter ⭐

Healthy Drinks

Improved Meditation Stool

Improved Spa Day Tablet

Improved Yoga Mat ⭐

Craftable Pottery

Less Elder Exhaustion

Less Sickness

Longer Basketball Games

More Fun Stuff

Online Gaming with Headsets

and I can’t forget these... more gameplay mods:

NPC Controller ⭐

Improved Autonomy

Simulation Lag Fix

Simulation Timeline Unclogger

Improved Autonomy During Loading Screens ⭐

No Empty Venues When Arriving ⭐

No Temperature Deaths ⭐

No Death from Murphy Bed

No React to Stranger’s Death

Realistic Death (Mortem) ⭐

Memorial Event

Freezing Sims Don’t Turn Blue ⭐

More Club / Holiday Icons

Make Hidden Holiday Traditions Selectable

Random Holiday Traditions

Wellness Traditions

More Holiday Icons

Less Rain More Sun

Less Snow More Sun

Summer Blow-Out Event

Christmas Eve Event

New Year’s Eve Bash Event

No Ugly Rain Outfits

More Umbrella Variations in World

Open Umbrella on Rainy Days Only

No More Broken Umbrellas

Destroy Leaf Piles ⭐

Dress Code Lot Trait

Gender and More Lot Trait

Preferences Lot Trait

Add Sims to Groups During Events

No Auto Club Gathering ⭐

Flower Arrangements Slower Decay

Take Photo Overhaul (Moschino Stuff) ⭐

Snorkel Everywhere

Don’t Turn NPC’s into Spellcasters

No Role Outfits for Sages

ROM Portal Only for Spellcasters

& you also need these... much-needed overrides:

More Sponge Colors

More Sippy Cup Colors

More Dog Leash Colors

White Ice Skates

Better Food Textures (All of Them) ⭐

Hidden Bassinet ⭐

iPhone X Phone Replacement

Playing Cards Replacement

Military Salute Overhaul

Small Saucer Light ⭐

Working Medicine Cabinet ⭐

Working Alarm Clocks ⭐

Realistic Fighting Animation 

Oasis Springs + Island Living Palm Trees ⭐

special thank you to all of the wonderful mod creators! seriously, I could not play this game without you guys... (no, really.) There are way too many of you guys to name without missing someone... so if you reblog this, all I ask is that you please tag your favorite modders! (& maybe even add your favorite mods?)

#ts4 #sims 4 #the sims 4 #s4 #s4 mods #the sims 4 mods #sims 4 mods #simkhira #prettyxsimblr #s4cc #ts4cc #reblog to save a life #mods 2020 #ultimate mods list

[smutbymia]

classmate jeno x reader with enemies to lovers please 🥺

There were a million and one reasons why you couldn’t stand Jeno: 

1. he’s an asshole

2. he’s the student body president for the second year in a row (you lost twice)

3. he’s a popular rich kid

4. he’s smart, athletic, AND good looking (I mean seriously... who is that lucky?)

Just to list a few. 

        You went to school together all your lives and it somehow felt like each year he got more and more irritating. This year is your last year and you promised yourself you wouldn’t let whatever ridiculous rivalry you and Jeno had ruin it. And so far you had done a good job of keeping that promise until this very moment. 

School had ended for the day, marking the completion of the first week of your senior year. You were reaching for a pen that dangled from a string next to a sign up sheet when you felt the warm skin of another hand brush against yours. You raised your head planning to mutter a quick apology to the person until you locked eyes with that bastard Jeno. The soft expression on your face immediately went icy as did his. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” you spat at him, the pen lingering in your hand. Jeno plucked it from between your fingers and wrote his name on the sign up sheet. Your eyes went wide and he dropped the pen, letting it hang from its string once more before turning to you and stepping forward. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he towered over you with his height. 

You groaned, stomping your feet before whining “You’re already president, why do you have to join yearbook too?” 

Jeno rolled his eyes, “Because I need more clubs for my college application.”

Your eyes shot daggers into his. You picked up the dangling pen and scribbled your name under his on the list before turning on your heels and walking into the open classroom next to you. You emerged from the room an hour later, expressionless. You pinched yourself, hoping that today was just an awful nightmare. Person after person left the room, walking past you until the hall went quiet with the exception of a few voices that lingered further down the school hall as people slowly made their way out. 

Things had gotten just slightly worse. When choosing the president for the Yearbook club, you and Jeno ended up in a deadlocked vote -- thus encouraging Mr. Park, the faculty member in charge to come up with the brilliant idea of electing you both to share the presidency. As if it wasn’t bad enough that you had to be in the same club. Now the two of you would be spending basically the entire year together working on such an important project. 

“Im not going to let him ruin me, I’m not going to let him ruin me, I’m not going to let him ruin me,” you repeated to yourself quietly as you slowly walked towards the nearest exit, in what felt like a daze. 

“That is quite the mantra,” teased Jeno. He had left the classroom last after talking with Mr. Park and caught up to you at some point. You jumped at the sound of his voice. 

“What do you want now?” you groaned.

Jeno stepped in front of you blocking your path. 

“Does it look like I want to be president with you? I’m being mature about it because it’s what everyone else wanted so you should stop acting like such a brat,” he spat. 

“You’re calling ME a brat? How ironic,” you scoffed, “You’re already in a ton of different clubs and hold multiple presidencies. What else could you possibly need for your college application? You could even buy your way in if you wanted to.”

Jeno froze at your final sentence. You continued the assault of words. “You know what your problem is? You can’t stand to lose,” you said, standing toe to toe with him. Jeno chuckled under his breath before bending slightly so that his face was hovering over your face. 

“You know what your problem is, princess? You’re okay with losing unless it’s to me,” he began, “You may still be royalty but that doesn’t mean you are anywhere near as powerful as I am,” he said as he straightened himself back up, walking backwards as he spoke. He tapped on one of the series of pins fastened to his school uniform jacket and you dropped your gaze to see what he was gesturing to -- it was a golden line drawing of a king’s crown. You locked eyes one last time before he turned around and stormed out of the school, leaving you standing alone in the empty corridor, blood rushing through your body with your fists balled up at your sides. 

That night you returned home, diving right into your study routine and getting an early start on some assignments to distract yourself from the awful day you were having. You had just gotten comfortable in bed when your phone buzzed with new notifications. You leaned over to squint at the bright screen. 

JENO: It’s Jeno 

JENO: School tomorrow. 5:30pm. 

You groaned before reaching for the device to type out a reply. 

Y/N: How did you get my number?

JENO: I’m the student body president. I can do anything I want. 

JENO: Just be there we have work to do. 

You rolled your eyes at his response before locking your phone and drifting off to bed.

The next day flew by the way Saturday’s typically did. You had breakfast with your family before heading out for a jog and coming home to do some workouts on youtube in your bedroom before taking some time to study and do some yearbook club work. When that evening finally rolled around you threw on some black biker shorts and a comfy oversized black graphic tee with some rock bands logo printed on the front before putting your hair up into a bun. 

Your school uniform was very preppy looking and you had to keep up appearances so every other part of your appearance had to be up to the same standard everyday. This resulted in you dressing quite “girly” so you enjoyed being able to dress down on the weekends when you weren’t out socializing.

Once you were done getting ready you made your way over to the school. According to Jeno, he had both keys and permission for the both of you to get some work done despite it being a Saturday. A security guard was parked outside by the gates when you arrived and you held up your yearbook club pass before he gave you a quick nod then immediately returned to watching some sports game on his phone screen and eating a sandwich. 

When you finally entered the school and got to the Yearbook/Media club lounge, you found Jeno leaning back in a computer chair as he clicked away at the mouse with his eyes glued to the monitor. He didn’t hear you when you entered because of the headphones he had covering his ears. He was dressed down too. He sported grey sweatpants, and a white t-shirt and his black hair looked slightly damp as the strands clumped together slightly and rested against his forehead. He nodded his head to music, and tapped his free fingers against the desk he was seated at. 

When you stepped further into the room he spun in his chair to face you. Jeno’s eyes scanned the entirety of your body before he slipped the headphones down to his neck and spoke. 

“I almost didn’t recognize you without your preppy headband, all that makeup, and those stupid earrings you always wear,” he muttered. 

Okay, low blow. The downside to wearing school uniforms is that you lose a lot of your individuality, and the school rules limit what you can and cannot wear. In fact, students had to fight for the right to accessorize until the ban was lifted. You personally enjoyed wearing tons of different earrings from hoops, to waterfalls and of course you felt a nice headband would draw together your academia look. Both were your signatures and makeup was just a given at such a fancy school. 

“I’d insult you back but honestly you look a lot less annoying when you’re not wearing that preppy uniform jacket filled with pins and patches,” you snapped back. 

“Whatever, I never said it was meant to be an insult,” he mumbled before gesturing for you to come look at his computer screen. 

“I’ve been working on the first draft for the welcome week pages. I think we should follow this layout and theme for the rest of the yearbook. I’m submitting it to Mr. Park,” said Jeno.  

You looked over the screen as Jeno waited for your feedback. “I like my version better,” you said after a few minutes. 

“Your version? Let’s see it then,” he urged. You took a USB keychain that hung with the rest of your keys out of your bag and connected it to the computer before leaning over Jeno and pulling up the file. He shifted his chair backwards to give you room, and sat back as he admired you from behind. It wasn’t until you spoke to him again that you realized what he was doing. 

“How does it look?” you asked as the document loaded onto the screen.

“Real good...” he said as his voice dropped an octave. You turned your head to face him, catching him with his bottom lip trapped between his teeth and his eyes still set on your backside before he drew them up to meet your gaze and flashing you a cheeky smile that turned his eyes into crescent moons. 

“Stop being a perv and come look,” you said sternly as you changed your position, lowering yourself to your knees by the monitor. Jeno scooted his chair forward again before looking up at your work. Within seconds he had a series of critical comments spilling from his mouth thus triggering a heated argument between the two of you. 

“You know what? I’m tired of going back and forth with you. Let’s just send both to Mr. Park and see which one he likes best,” he challenged. You were both on your feet now and standing toe to toe like you did yesterday during your face off. 

“Fine,” you accepted. Jeno sent the files off and the two of you drifted off into other work. You were both working in the dark room, developing some film, when you heard the faint sound of an email notification ring out from the monitor in the room next door. You and Jeno immediately looked at each other before frantically wrapping up your work and rushing to the computer. 

The two of you were huddled closely by the screen when Jeno clicked on the email to reveal its contents. You both silently read the screen before you were overcome with disappointment 

Mr. Park: Hey President’s. Both look great and would work perfectly with this years Yearbook but if you want my personal opinion, I think I’m leaning more towards Jeno’s! Great work so far and kudos for being so productive on a Saturday! Reach out if you need anything. 

You groaned as you stood back up. Jeno chuckled next to you. 

“Congratulations, you win again,” you snapped at him. He was so caught off guard by your tone that his smile fell from his face immediately and was quickly replaced by a smug expression. 

“Is that all that matters to you?” he asked raising his voice, “winning?”

You were toe to toe for the third time now and it was really starting to get on your nerves because Jeno was built and tall and something about him looking down on you made this stupid position even more annoying for you. 

“One thing! You couldn’t just let me have this one thing!” you yelled back. 

“Oh... my... GOD. You are unbearable!” Jeno groaned as he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. 

“You want to know why I couldn’t let you have this one thing?” he started, leaning down closer to your face. He was inches from you now and his breath danced across your lips when he spoke. 

“Because... you’re such a fucking brat. Every time you whine and complain all I can think about is filling up this pretty mouth so I don’t have to hear your voice anymore,” he said through gritted teeth, reaching his hand up to your chin. 

“And your face... the look on your face every time i beat you at something or take something away from you... the way your eyes get big and teary, and the way you pout your lips like you’re doing right now” he continued, running his index finger across your bottom lip. 

“Nothing turns me on more than taming you like this,” he whispered. Your body shivered under his touch. You were fuming on the inside at his words. They hurt. Yet you were also feeling things you had never felt before. Your eyes scanned Jeno’s face, along his lips and eyes and his jawline. Your nipples hardened underneath the cotton material of your shirt. Jeno noticed. You fought back tears of frustration as one slipped down your cheek, cursing yourself for being so turned on at a moment like this. 

“Don’t cry, baby girl,” Jeno muttered as he took his free hand to wipe away at the tear as his other hand cradled your cheek. Your hands were balled into fists at your sides and you stood frozen in your spot. 

“You’ve been so worried about me ruining you, but maybe that’s exactly what you need to get rid of that attitude...hmm?” he murmured. 

“I-I hate you,” you sputtered out, sounding more whiney than angry. Jeno let out a breath of air as the corner of his mouth turned up into a brief smile. He  stepped closer to you and you stepped back until you were trapped against a table.

“Yeah, whatever,” he mumbled as he hovered his lips dangerously close to yours, eyes searching yours for any sign of resistance. You broke eye contact with him as your gaze settled on his lips. You subconsciously licked your own as you blinked away the remainder of the dampness in your eyes. 

You didn’t notice the way you gravitated towards his lips like a magnet until he leaned away from you slightly and your lips chased after his -- not letting the distance grow too much. Your eyes were still glued to his lips which had formed into a smug grin when you noticed how you had chased after his lips like a needy girl just as you felt the first wave of heat rush to your face.

“Just as I thought...” he muttered as one of his hands dropped to your waist and you felt him tighten his grip ever so slightly. Jeno ran his hand down the side of your body, trailing his fingers along your thighs before running his hands back up again -- this time gripping the bare skin of your waist underneath your graphic tee. 

You sucked in air when his warm hands came in contact with your skin. His eyes were glued to your face and his expression showed a slight hint of darkness. Jeno gripped your waist with both hands firmly before suddenly lifting you off the floor to sit on the edge of the table you had been trapped against. 

You let out a gasp as your butt landed on the cool surface, leaving you seated with Jeno standing between your legs. He bridged the gap between you by stepping closer and pulling you by your hips -- until every part of you was pressed against him. Your hands flew up to his chest to stop you from literally crashing into his chiseled torso.  

You accidentally let out a breathy moan when your crotches met -- feeling Jeno pressed against your center, leaving only the thin material of your biker shorts and your undies between your bodies. Jeno bit his bottom lip in response and rolled his lips once more, making you whimper and sending your hands sliding from his chest down to his waist. You hesitated but your hand placement was a dead giveaway that you wanted more friction. Jeno pulled at your hips one more time as he met your center with another stroke. You felt wetness begin to pool between your legs and tightened your grip on his waist. This time it was you who pulled him forward but he froze just before your bodies could properly connect again as you desperately tried to rut yourself against him. 

“Look at me,” he ordered. Your gaze immediately locked with his, eyes wide and lips pouted, a bit frustrated that he had stopped moving. 

“Good girl... Didn’t think you’d listen to me so well the first time,” he said, rewarding you with another roll of his hips. You groaned at the contact. 

“F-first time?” you question, rolling your hips to meet his as his breathing became more unstable. 

“It’s gonna be a long year, baby,” he started, “We have to work together, so it’s my responsibility to calm you down when you get all bratty.” 

There was something really sexy about the way you both managed to continuously grind against each other in pure ecstasy while having a full blown conversation, speaking between moans and grunts. 

“I’m n-not a brat, you’re just an asshole,” you snapped as you crossed your legs at your ankles, pulling him against you even harder. 

Jeno cursed under his breath at the friction as his hands reached down to grip at your ass before mumbling, “only person who thinks i’m an asshole is you,” he taunted, “you on the other hand are widely known for acting like a complete...”

You interrupted him with another roll of your hips, as a groan slipped from his lips. “Choose your next words carefully, Jeno,” you warned. 

he chuckled before finishing his almost forgotten sentence, “princess... that’s what you’re known for. For acting like such a fucking princess,” he groaned. 

Jeno wasn’t entirely wrong. You did strive for excellence when it came to your common interests in academics and extracurriculars. In fact, a pet peeve of yours was the fact that you and Jeno were always compared to each other, with most of the school being shocked that two people who were so alike seemed to always be at war with each other. In everyone else's eyes you were both one in the same.

Though you were respected, you weren’t delusional. There were definitely people who weren’t fond of you, but you had chalked it up to mere jealousy that was inevitable for a person who excelled as much as you did to experience. Jeno must have noticed your mind wandering because he lifted your chin slightly to direct your attention back to him muttering a soft “hey...” as he snaked his free hand up your shirt, hands brushing against your bare breast. 

You moaned when you felt his fingers tease your sensitive nipple. “Whats wrong with being a princess? People only call me that because they’re jealous,” you questioned. You had definitely begun to soak through your shorts, as you watched a faint wet patch begin to show on Jeno’s joggers. You gripped at the collar of his shirt as he dropped his head down to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses all over the delicate skin. 

“F-fuck,” you groaned at the contact, hips jerking. 

“Exactly,” jeno said, lifting his head to lock his eyes with you again. “They’re jealous of how powerful you are... but that’s exactly what turns me on,” he confessed. 

He ran his hands along your cheek, leaning in to a whisper. “Do you know how hard it makes me when I think about turning the most powerful girl in school into a powerless mess?” Jeno tugged at one of your nipples as he finally drew your mouth into his for a kiss. You whimpered into his mouth, overcome with pleasure. 

Jeno deepened the kiss and for once you just allowed him to take control. As much as you hated him, you couldn’t deny that his energy was intoxicating and yes, maybe you were a little bit jealous of him for the same reasons as others were jealous of you. 

How could you not be attracted to someone who was as driven and talented and equally, if not even more powerful than you were in that regard. As much as you butt heads there was no doubt that you were very much a good fit for each other-- if all the fighting and competition were set aside, that is. But this didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was the way he was making you feel. It was as if though all those years of tension had finally bubbled over. 

Jeno’s tongue swirled against yours sloppily, just the way you liked. Even your bodies seemed to be on the same page. He pulled away from you after a few minutes of making out -- leaving a trail of spit hanging from your lips to his as he lifted you off the table and carried you over to one of the couches in the lounge area of the room. 

The sun had already begun to set ages ago, and only the faint hint of the computer screens you had been working on were illuminating the room. Jeno sat on the couch with you straddling his lap as he pulled his shirt over his head. You did the same and soon enough you were both left topless. Jeno wasted no time drawing you towards him and trapping a nipple between his lips as he palmed your other breast. You arched your back into him letting his name spill from your mouth. 

He kissed his way back up your chest as he pulled you in for a kiss. 

“Mmm.. Need all of this gone,” he said as he pulled at your shorts. You got up from his lap, and he immediately began to peel off the remainder of your clothing, dragging the material down the length of your body. 

His breath hitched as he stripped you of your shorts to reveal your white cotton thong. He brushed his fingers softly against the material before mumbling to himself, “cute...” 

His fingers ran against your slit, feeling the damp material under his touch and making you grow weak in the legs. 

“You’re so wet for me already... Such a good girl,” he said. Hearing words of praise fall from his lips like that made you feel so soft. For some reason, compliments hit different when they came from him. Your eyes drifted to the growing bulge in Jeno’s joggers. 

Your mouth fell open with the sudden desire to be filled with as much of him as you could fit as you slowly fell to your knees. Jeno raised his eyebrows while he watched you intently. You tapped your fingers against his knee, “off, please” you said as you pulled at the strings in the waistband of his bottoms. 

“Fuck, do you know how good you look on your knees for me?” he said as he lifted his hips to get rid of the rest of his clothing. Your eyes went wide when he finally settled back into his seat and began stroking his length while analyzing your expression. 

For once you couldn’t blame him for the arrogant expression on his face. He had every right to be proud of what he was packing. 

“Ugh, is every part of you perfect?” you complained as you scooted closer to him. You dragged your fingernails along his thighs as he drew his bottom lip between his teeth again. Your fingers danced dangerously close to his member as he slowed the movement of his hand before letting go of himself. 

You wrapped your hand around him, shocked at how much bigger he looked between your fingers. He throbbed and raised his hips slightly, thrusting up into your first. “Needy...” you teased, looking up at him as you giggled softly. 

“Y/n” he whimpered, a bit embarrassed at the sounds leaving his mouth now that you had momentarily gained the upper-hand. Jeno watched as you pressed your tongue to the slit of his cock before popping the head right into your mouth and sinking down around his length in one go, bottoming out. 

Your lips were wrapped around the very base of his cock when you moaned around him, making your entire mouth vibrate. 

“Holy shit,” he moaned loudly as he reached out a hand to draw circles on your cheeks while you worked at his length. You lifted your mouth all the way back, as his hips jerked forward again, fucking into your mouth as another whimper fell from his mouth. Your eyes were locked in his and you couldn’t believe how different he looked. His hard expression had gone soft. You had definitely managed to strip him momentarily of his power. 

“So naughty - where’d you learn - to use your mouth like this- huh, princess?” he asked between thrusts. Your eyes watered but you continued to let him use your mouth as you watched him grow more desperate. 

You removed him from your mouth with a pop as you pumped at his length fast. Jeno cursed under his breath before letting his head fall back on the couch for a moment. 

“Gonna c-cum,” he warned. 

“Look at me,” you ordered and Jeno obeyed.

You locked eyes as you delivered the final pumps, and waited with your mouth open and your tongue out as you felt him throb underneath your grip before spurts of his warmth shot up -- spilling onto your tongue and dripping from your lips down your chin. The remainder of his cum had spilled over onto your fingers, and you released him to pop them into your mouth to clean them off. 

You were aimlessly licking and sucking at your fingers, caught up in your own world when you noticed Jeno staring at you, chest rising and falling with a surprised expression on his face. 

“Hmm?” you hummed as you titled your head, wondering if everything was okay. Jeno, who had just cum harder than he ever had in his life was in pure disbelief at how you sat so calmly and managed to look so sweet and innocent with his cum dripping down your chin as you suckled at your own fingers. The sight alone made him start to grow hard almost instantly. 

After a few seconds he snapped out of it, leaning forward and cupping your cheek in his hand like he had been all night. 

“D-don’t think I’m letting you win that easily,” he muttered. He motioned for you to get off your knees, and he drew you in for a kiss as he repositioned you both on the couch so he would be on top of you. You seemed to have sparked the competitive fire within him. 

Jeno hadn’t expected you to switch on him like that and he was determined to follow through on his promise of ruining you. 

He trailed kisses down your body, skipping your pelvic region to drop kisses along your thighs as he peeled off your panties. 

“I’m sorry but I won’t be going easy on you... not after what you just did,” he warned as he pushed apart your thighs. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your center and it drove you insane. 

Jeno carried out the first lick along the length of your slit and it was enough to have you moaning and immediately roping your hands in his hair. You had been turned on for so long that even the slightest touch felt like heaven. 

He flicked his tongue against your entrance, muttering to himself about how great you taste, teasing you as your clit yearned for attention. He worked at your flesh, dipping his tongue in between the folds of your center before prodding at your hole and slipping his tongue inside. You tried to move your hips against his mouth but he firmly held you in place.

“Jeno, p-please,” you pleaded. He smiled against your skin as  he continued to dip his tongue into your hole, driving you closer to the edge but still not quite getting you there. 

“Whats wrong, princess?” he taunted before running his tongue up the length of your slit, once again avoiding your clit. You whimpered, reaching your hand down to feel yourself before he roped his fingers in yours to stop you. He lightly flicked his tongue against your clit, just enough to send electricity running through your body but still not enough to please you entirely. 

“I want to hear you beg for it,” he said as he blew air softly against your center, the sensitivity was overwhelming. He planted a soft kiss directly on top of your clit that would have melted your heart a bit if you weren’t so violently horny at this point. So instead, your hips jerked against the plushy feeling of his pursed lips. Jeno chuckled at your body’s reaction, before repeating the action -- drawing the same result.

After the third peck landed on your clit, and the third jerk of your hips sent you into a frenzy, you simply couldn’t resit any longer. 

Tears pooled at the corner of your eyes, and words spilled endlessly from your mouth. “Please, Jeno.. fuck, please let me cum. I’m d-desperate,” you confessed as your hips raised off of the couch, and he pulled away teasingly watching you squirm beneath him. 

“How would you like to cum, baby?” he asked.

“I need to feel you inside of me,” you pleaded before adding a soft “please” to the end of your sentence. 

You watched Jeno position himself at your entrance before stopping. 

“i’m on the pill, we don’t need --,” you assured him, reading his expression. 

He groaned straight away, interrupting you before you could finish as his mind drifted to places he was too ashamed to admit. He ran his head along your slit, making you twitch before he entered you with a quick snap of his hips, bottoming out immediately and forcing a scream from your lips. 

You weren’t sure what to expect from Jeno but it definitely wasn't this. He angled himself perfectly, propping you up so he was hitting all the right places as he pounded into you relentlessly. Within a single minute you were both racing towards your orgasms. 

“I’m close,” he murmured as he planted a kiss to your lips. 

“Me too,” you answered, “one last thing...” you said as he continued to thrust into you at a delicious pace. 

“Hmm.. what is it, baby?” he asked. You locked eyes with him, feeling quite shy at your next words. 

“F-fill me up, please. I want you to cum inside of me, really really badly,” you whimpered and with a final groan at your unexpected demand, you felt Jeno’s warmth spill all over your insides, sending you right over the edge and leaving your insides contracting against him. The two of you remained exactly how you were for awhile. 

Jeno was the first to move after catching his breath. He slowly slipped out of you with a breathy moan before lowering himself towards your center and softly licking at your folds even though they were covered in his own cum. 

“Shit, i’m sorry... I barely made it to the end of your sentence before letting go,” he chuckled as he lapped at your skin. 

“JENO” you shrieked as an unexpected orgasm rushed through you again when he flattened his tongue against your entire slit and you found yourself moving against his mouth in seek of more pleasure. You pushed his head away as you clenched your legs together feeling a mixture of both pleasure and agony run through your body. 

“Sorry, sorry, sorry... last one, i promise” he laughed as he moved to your face to plant soft kisses on your cheeks and a peck on your lips. It took you a while to come back from your high.

     it was a bit late when you guys had finally cleaned up and locked the school back up. Jeno had driven you home in his new Volvo which he tried to convince you was a totally normal back to school gift, and had texted you for the remainder of the night about things like yearbook, and homework. It almost seemed as though what had happened was merely a dream. 

It wasn't until you were back at school on Monday that you realized that going back to normal was going to be impossible. You and Jeno still bickered over Yearbook decisions and didn’t hesitate to challenge each other during class debates but things had changed. Every annoying exchange you had simply fuelled your desire more. 

You’d get into intense match ups only to find yourselves coming up with excuses about Yearbook club to sneak out of class for quickies in Jeno’s car. He even had his way with you more times than you could count across his desk in the office he was awarded after becoming student body president. At first it was fun -- your adrenaline would pump at the thought of sneaking around so much but then things slowly started to shift again. 

Soon, you would spend afternoons at his freaking massive mansion of a family home where you guys would go over yearbook work. When you didn’t have yearbook work to do, he began inviting you over for study sessions, and to do homework -- all of which would end in amazing sex. Soon those invites extended to regular hangouts for no particular reason but to enjoy each others company and you found yourself drifting away from casual hookups to something that felt heavier -- more serious. 

The final nail in the coffin was when Jeno let your little secret slip after getting so worked up in a class discussion. You had been discussing the symbolism of a film you had just watched for an english class when you began to clash. 

“Baby, that makes no sense,” he mumbled after you had shared your opinion. He was doodling aimlessly on his notebook. The entire class went wide eyed, and a few gasps were let out.

“Actually, it makes perfect s--” you began before freezing. You had just noticed his mistake, and everyone had noticed yours which was how the pet name didn’t seem to phase you at all. Luckily Mr. Park quickly moved on to another topic as you both sat cursing yourselves silently. 

After the final bell rang for the day, you locked eyes with Jeno. 

“Idiot,” you mouthed. He offered you a sheepish grin in return as he approached your desk.

“I’m sorry, it slipped,” he began, “but now that every knows..” Jeno, slipped his arm around you as you entered the hallway. Most students minded their business, which you were grateful for while others stared and whispered. 

“I have a student body meeting for the next hour... you have debate team right?,” he said as you approached an intersecting series of hallways. You nodded.

“I’ll meet you outside then, and we can go to mine to go over the photographer schedules for this months events,” Jeno said. 

“Sounds good,” you responded before turning on your heels to head in the opposite direction. Jeno’s grip on your wrist had him tugging you back towards him. 

He stood above you with an annoyed expression on his face, pouting. He pulled your face close to his, mumbling about you being heartless before he planted a lingering kiss on your lips, of course drawing the attention of onlookers. Your cheeks were on fire when he pulled back, leaving you flustered and a bit embarrassed as he shot you a final wink before checking his watch and rushing off to his meeting. You turned around to head to debate club, wondering how exactly your biggest enemy had turned into the sweetest, most caring lover you could have ever asked for. 

#tell me your thoughts please😣 #wtf i wish i was in this fic #jeno scenarios #jeno smut #jeno imagines #jeno angst #lee jeno #nct jeno #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct au #switch!jeno #nct imagines #nct scnearios #nct fanfiction #NCT Dream Scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream fanfic

[absolutepokemontrash]

The undatables as uncles need more love, so... What if L!MC and the rest of the children just go to the castle or purgatory Hall for a few days because the Bros got tired or just need a day of rest. Idk this makes no sense

Yes, more uncle shennaniganery!

A Day at the Demon Lord’s Castle

Masterlist

It was Demon-Flu season, and no demon in the House of Lamentation was spared from its sniffly wrath. It started with Belphegor waking up and sneezing right next to Beel, and it was all downhill from there.

Notice how I said “demon”, the dear little Half-Demons were all fine thanks to the efforts of M!MC who for some reason had bought a bunch of plague doctor masks the week prior.

“Why... why did you buy these?” L!MC asked, their voice muffled by the badly fitting mask.

“I saw em’ in a store window and I decided I wanted them.”

Three out of four of the Brat Brigade (plus the cat) were on their way to the Demon Lord’s castle to stay until the house’s little epidemic passed. Lord Diavolo had oh so graciously asked (begged) to be allowed to host the kids for a while.

What could go wrong?

Many things could go wrong.

For one, the first thing A!MC saw when they first arrived, was a rat. Not one of the gross scary ones, but one of the absolutely adorable ones that turns you into the ‘gently holds’ meme.

“I’m going to call you Templeton!” “*squeak*” “Yay!”

Barbatos of course came to greet the guests, and explained that they have a little... issue with rats at that moment. Butler-dad assured them it wouldn’t be a problem, just if the children saw any of the vermin running around to tell him and he’d dispose of them.

Templeton the rat was promptly hidden in one of A!MC’s pockets.

The Purgatory Hall crew was there as well, apparently Solomon decided to make brunch and Purgatory Hall’s kitchen exploded.

Lord Diavolo finally makes his entrance and declares that everyone should unpack and relax, his gorgeous/terrifying castle was their gorgeous/terrifying castle.

“So,” L!MC rested their head on their hand and rotated the knight in their free hand as they stared half vacantly at the chess board. “Did you take care of the snake in the labyrinth, Dia?”

Diavolo lit up when he heard his seldom used nickname. “Well, Henry 1.0 isn’t exactly bothering anyone down there at the moment, and I don’t think Levi is equipped to deal with a fifty foot long untamed snake.”

L!MC smirked and placed their knight down. “Yeah, at least not right now.”

The moment L!MC removed their hand from the knight, Diavolo moved his bishop and took their queen. Shit.

“Aw man...” L!MC mumbled, after a cursory look at the board, the poor thing realized that they had been screwed for the last five turns and Diavolo was just prolonging the match.

“Don’t feel too bad, L!MC.” Diavolo gave them a pat on the head. “Lucifer can’t beat me in chess either.”

“Hmph.” They wouldn’t admit it but... that did make them feel a little better.

“That reminds me, I have a favour to ask of you.” L!MC almost outwardly drooped at the mention of... ugh... a task. “Do you mind reviewing some dad-jokes with me to make sure they are suitably dad-like?”

“...what?” Quickly remembering they were in the presence of honest to God (poor choice of words... uh... Grandfather?) royalty, L!MC straightened their posture and tried their best to look respectfully curious instead of completely and utterly confused. “Pardon?”

“M!MC and several others have said I have ‘dad vibes’, so I’m leaning into it!” Diavolo smiled so brightly if L!MC hadn’t been the child of the Morning Star they may have been blinded. “My father wasn’t one for jokes, so I’d like to run these by you before I say them to others.”

Suppressing a snort of laughter, L!MC nodded. “Go for it, I’m all ears.”

Diavolo pulled out quite the long list and began to read out loud... L!MC quickly realized that this may take longer than expected. “Okay, to begin: I’m afraid for the calendar, it’s days are numbered.”

“Oh not-that-good-Lord...” L!MC muttered under their breath.

The dad jokes continued, some were funny, some were absolutely awful, some sounded like they were made for children in the Victorian era... overall, it was a good- holy shit that took over two hours...

“Finally,” Diavolo squinted at the last joke. “I went to the liquor store and they asked for my ID, while I fumbled for my wallet, my Blockbuster card fell out, the cashier said ‘nevermind’.”

L!MC furrowed their brows. “What’s a Blockbuster?”

“That was what I was hoping you’d explain to me... is it a dad requirement to get a card for that establishment..?”

“Mmmm...” L!MC pursed their lips. “Probably not. I mean, Lucifer doesn’t have one.”

“That’s true...” Diavolo looked at the clock, then stood up and began to shoo L!MC out the door. “Look at me, taking up all your time that you should be spending with your friends. Thank you for your help, L!MC, now don’t let me keep you any longer!”

Giggling slightly, L!MC shot a wave over their shoulder as they left the room. “Bye dad! See you later!”

They were half way down the hallway when they realized their verbal slip-up.

“Oh.” L!MC’s face burned with embarrassment. “Shit.”

Dad-volo was totally delighted and very cool about it, don’t worry.

M!MC and Bean the cat were hanging out with the angels in the very pretty royal gardens when that mess was going down.

Luke was being absolutely adorable and was snuggling Bean while he and Simeon looked at the pretty plants.

In traditional M!MC fashion, they were engaging in an average game of ‘lightly tease the chihuahua’.

“It’s just... you’re so small.” M!MC took the opportunity to rest their arm on Luke’s head as he stopped to observe a colour changing flower bush. “How many years have you been this height? 100? 200?”

M!MC had taken the news that Luke was older than them in stride, finding new opportunities to make the little angel do his adorable angy face. They were obviously succeeding in their jerkwad-endeavours as Luke pushed their arm off and fixed his now smushed hat.

“You be quiet! I’m perfectly average height for an angel my age.” Luke huffed, petting the cat, who hissed at M!MC. The stupid cat absolutely hated them for some reason, it brought L!MC never ending joy to bring the cat into their shared room and watch it hiss and swipe at them. L!MC should really show some more respect for their older cousin!

“Are angels normally the size of a fifth grader?” M!MC snickered. “Is Simeon considered a freak for his height?”

“No, M!MC, I am not.” Simeon chuckled. “Rest assured, Luke will grow.”

“Yeah! And I’m sure I’ll be taller than you!” Luke added.

M!MC smirked deviously and pinched Luke’s cheek. “Well, I’ll have to take advantage of your smallness and baby face while I still can!”

“Hey! Stop that!” Luke tried to swat their hands away, but M!MC had inherited their father’s reflexes and his penchant for being a little shit every once and a while, so Luke’s swatting only resulted in more pinches.

“Never!” M!MC teased. “Surrender to your smallness!”

“No!”

Luke took off deeper into the garden, surprisingly quickly considering he was holding a cat that was hellbent on clawing M!MC’s eyes out. M!MC laughed and gave chase.

“Luuuuuuuke! Come back! I promise I’ll be nice!” M!MC lied right through their teeth like the little heathen they were, as they ran down the path they noticed that they couldn’t see Luke up ahead anymore, nor could they hear him yelling for Simeon to make them quit their teasing.

“Heheh...” M!MC wheezed as they stopped to catch their breath. “Luke c’mon, don’t be a baby. It’s real immature to hide like that!”

There was no response, which made M!MC just a little nervous, just a smidge. The plants had changed from pretty flowers and gorgeous trees to a much darker clump of vines and twisting branches. It all seemed to be the same plant, M!MC noted as they scanned the area for any sign of Luke and the cat, or Simeon for that matter.

“Luke? Bean? Come on! Haul your asses over here, this isn’t funny any-” M!MC paused and looked down as something coiled around their left leg. “-more?”

The vine tightened and yanked them backwards, M!MC fell right to the ground and clawed at the path to stop them getting pulled into the brush. Another vine wrapped around their right leg, any resistance that digging their nails into the ground was nullified as both vines yanked M!MC into the bushes.

Well, this was a nightmare of epic proportions. The vines continued to wrap around the helpless half demon until they were completely unable to move. As M!MC looked around frantically, they made eye contact with an all too familiar pair of blue eyes. Ah! There was Luke!

“Mmmph!” Only Luke’s eyes were visible, but the eyes are the gateway to the soul or whatever, and M!MC took an educated guess and decided that Luke’s soul wasn’t too happy with them.

“Mmth! Mmth!” M!MC tried to speak, but their mouth was covered by the vines. The two would have to communicate with their eyes only.

‘This is your fault!’

‘How the fuck is this MY fault?’

‘If you hadn’t teased me this never would have happened!’

‘Grow thicker skin, you chihuahua!’

‘Fuck you!’

Listen, Luke probably wasn’t capable of trying to communicate a swear word, but it was incredibly funny for M!MC to think about.

“M!MC? Luke?” Simeon stepped into their limited field of vision. “Where are you two? This plant is carnivorous.”

Oh... lovely. That was good to know.

“Mmemph!”

“MFTH!” Luke and M!MC tried to call out to Simeon, only for the vines to wrap around them even tighter. Wow, what a way to go... strangled by a plant... ugh. L!MC would never let them live that down...

“Hm,” Simeon looked down at the vine that was coiling around his leg. “What a bother.”

Quick as lightning, Simeon grabbed the vine and sent a burst of shining gold magic shooting through it. The magic quickly spread to the rest of the plant and the moment the magic slammed into M!MC they nearly passed out from the searing pain that shot through their entire body.

They clamped their eyes shut and clenched their teeth to stop them from rattling as they felt the massive wave of Celestial magic wash over them. It was weirdly warm, like a hug from a friend, but it wasn’t a pleasant sensation, at least not to M!MC.

The plant let out an otherworldly scream as it threw Luke, Bean, and M!MC back onto the path at Simeon’s feet.

Luke picked Bean back up and dusted off his clothes like he didn’t have a care in the world. M!MC lay on the ground, if you listened closely you could hear them sizzle a bit. Nothing like being nearly strangled by a plant and then roasted by holy ‘fuck you’ magic.

“I’m glad you’re both okay,” Simeon pulled Luke into a hug and helped M!MC off the ground. “Did I ah... use to much magic?”

M!MC half-scowled at their saviour and wiped down their outfit. “Yeah. A little too much.”

“My bad,” Simeon ruffled M!MC’s hair. “I hope this serves as a learning experience for you two, Luke, don’t run off like that, and M!MC,”

The half demon nearly jumped in fear and surprise as Simeon swivelled to look at them. The smile on his face was far from comforting. “Don’t tease poor Luke too much, okay?”

“Uh... uh huh.” M!MC quickly nodded.

“Good! Now let’s head back, I think we’ve all had enough of the Royal Gardens.”

As the group returned, they passed a very red in the face L!MC and wondered what exactly went down in the time they were gone.

It’s common knowledge that Barbatos hates rats, it’s also common knowledge that A!MC is the embodiment of a ray of sunshine.

What does this lead to, you may be asking, well...

A!MC and their dear rat Templeton needed to hide from the politely homicidal Barbatos.

“Sh!” A!MC whispered into their pocket, the rat responded with an indignant squeak.

The Demon Lord’s Castle was absolutely massive, and trying to navigate it without a map was akin to wandering around an ancient pyramid filled with death traps. A!MC and their dear companion were wandering the place without a map and trying to hide from a butler that had the power to see into the future. The two fugitives were at a clear disadvantage.

A!MC had managed to stumble into an area that had paintings and statues completely everywhere, it was then they realized they were completely lost.

While quietly perusing the room, A!MC took notice of quite the lovely portrait of a woman. She had long flowing locks of golden hair and the most gorgeous captivating eyes... A!MC nearly shrieked when the woman’s eyes snapped to their’s and her face contorted into a scowl.

“Do I know you?” The woman asked, A!MC gulped and shook their head.

“N-no ma’am, I don’t think we’ve met...” A!MC mumbled before sticking out their hand for a handshake. The painting woman stared down at their outstretched hand, very unimpressed. “I’m A!MC, it’s nice to meet you.”

The half demon offered their cutest smile, their dad had lovingly taken the time to coach them in the art of being so darn tootin’ adorable that everyone would fall over themselves to get A!MC to like them. The moment the woman registered the smile, her scowl returned for a brief moment, then vanished entirely.

“Oh,” The woman smiled sweetly. “I do think I know you, do you mind coming a bit closer so I can see you better?”

Suffering from a complete inability to detect red flags, A!MC happily moved closer.

“Ah, just as I suspected. You look like Asmodeus.”

“You know my dad?” A!MC asked.

“Yes,” The woman’s eyes narrowed. “I know him quite well.”

A!MC was suddenly knocked off balance as a massive gust of wind shoved them closer to the painting. They frantically clawed at the stone ground as Templeton squeaked and squirmed in their pocket.

“Your father is the reason I’m stuck in this painting,” The woman explained coldly as A!MC tried to scramble away. “He escaped the labyrinth twice, but I don’t plan on letting you escape.”

“I-uh- m-muh-my dad’s probably really sorry about whatever he did! There’s no need to be rash!” A!MC stuttered.

“Yeah, no.” The woman huffed. “He had his chance to fix things. I’m getting even.”

“Not right now you’re not.”

A!MC swivelled their head around to see Barbatos calmly holding out a pair of scissors.

“Now Helene, I’d recommend releasing the child before I’m forced to take drastic measures.” Barbatos clicked the scissors together twice, and Helene paled. The wind pushing A!MC towards the painting dissipated and the half demon ran and hid behind the butler.

“Th-thank you...” A!MC mumbled.

“It’s not a problem, A!MC. Now I believe it would be a wise choice to move to another room.”

The two, (plus the hidden rat) ended up in the kitchen. A!MC shifted nervously as Barbatos began prepping lunch.

“Is there something you need to tell me?” Barbatos asked suddenly, A!MC straightened their posture and nodded.

“I um... promise you won’t be mad...” A!MC mumbled.

“I can assure you, I won’t be too upset.”

“I made a friend.” A!MC took Templeton out of their pocket and held him closely to their chest, Barbatos’s calm smile froze on his face. “He’s really sweet, please don’t kill him!”

“...A!MC.” Barbatos began slowly. “I’m not mad... just make sure it doesn’t escape and run rampant... now... please get it out of my kitchen.”

“Yes sir! Thank you sir!” A!MC turned and sprinted to their room.

Ugh... Barbatos, haven’t you ever watched Ratatouille? The rat can cook dammit!

When Luke went in to bake with his second dad he was very confused as to why Barbatos looked like he was having war flashbacks.

Huh... weird right? Anyway...

Good ol’ weird uncle Solomon suggested that after dinner everyone should get together and watch a movie.

L!MC and Solomon suggested that they watch The Conjuring and that idea got immediately shot down.

M!MC brought up that the most “family get-together” movie they could think of was Star Wars.

So they watched A New Hope.

“We could be watching the Conjuring right now.” L!MC murmured as they watched Luke Skywalker fumble his way to Obi Wan Kenobi.

“Yeah.” Solomon whispered back. “You know, I met Ed and Lorraine Warren.”

“Cool,” L!MC smiled. “My ren took me to their house once, when I went in to see all the haunted objects all the demons inside wanted to hang out with me.”

“Huh,” Solomon snickered. “Did they think you were Lucifer?”

“Yep. It was funny, Annabelle’s a pretty big asshole though.”

“I’d be an asshole too if I were stuck in a raggedy Anne doll since the 60s and not allowed to leave.”

“Both of you sh!” M!MC hissed, they threw some popcorn over their shoulder, which L!MC threw right back.

A while into the movie, M!MC elbowed Solomon and pointed at one of the aliens. “That’s you.”

“I’m so hurt…” Solomon pouted.

“And that’s you.” L!MC pointed at a stormtrooper that had just gotten shot with a blaster. M!MC scoffed and rolled their eyes.

“I’m not some dumb stormtrooper.”

“Yeah, you’re a little short for a stormtrooper.”

“HEY!”

“SHHHHHHH!” A!MC and Luke turned and started throwing their own popcorn…

The mess that they all had to vacuum after the movie was much more terrifying than The Conjuring ever could have been.

So, after a few days, Lucifer called to say that everyone was back to normal and the last remnants of the Demon-Flu were gone.

Yay! The kids could go back to their really overcrowded house!

The goodbyes were something to behold.

“Goodbye everyone! Come back sometime soon!” Diavolo waved from the doorway.

“Bye, Lord Diavolo!” L!MC smiled brightly and returned the wave. M!MC snickered and nudged them.

“That’s a pretty cold way to say goodbye to your dad-”

“Shut up…” L!MC growled.

“L!MC, what are they talking about?” Lucifer asked.

“Nothing!”

M!MC looked like they were weighing the pros and cons of surviving the conversation, then shrugged.

“M!MC, no, you have so much to live for!” A!MC pleaded.

“L!MC called Lord Diavolo dad!”

Mammon erupted into hysterical laughter while Asmo giggled and half heartedly patted L!MC on the head. Lucifer was not impressed.

“You know,” L!MC sighed. “I’m moving out. Lord Diavolo can I come live here?”

“L!MC, come back.” Lucifer trailed after his very embarrassed spawn.

A!MC pulled on their dad’s sleeve and cleared their throat.

“Yes sweetie?”

“D-dad, do you have a vehement hatred and or fear of rats?”

“Um-”

“Meet Templeton, he’s adorable and my friend.”

————————

Author’s note, The next part of the main series is coming next week… or this week… idk how long things take.

(Probably this week)

#the next mission is making sure the rat doesn’t get eaten by Detective Toe Beans… #Obey me #Obey me! #Obey me Fic #obey me shall we date #Obey me! headcanons #obey me! shall we date? #obey me headcanons #Obey me MC #Obey me Diavolo #Obey me Luke #Obey me Simeon #Obey me Barbatos #Obey me Solomon #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Mammon #Obey me Asmodeus

[twstarchives]

Hello! There used to be a list about which characters have mentioned to have siblings/be only childs but I can't find it anymore ;; do you still have it or was I imagining it? If so, do you know what is there so far about each student's family life?

Riddle

Parents

Riddle lives with his mom, the status of his father is unknown. He has implied that his parents don’t get along.¹ Both parents are magic doctors, but his mother seems to be more well-known. To Riddle, she is extremely overbearing and planned out nearly every second of his life: controlled his education, his schedule, his diet, his clothing, the supplies he used, and which friends he could have. She put a heavy emphasis on studying and always being the best.²

1. Riddle Ghost Marriage voice lines 2. Main Story 1-19

Ace

Parents

Older brother

Grandmother

His brother is 7 years older than him and a Heartslabyul alumni.¹ He seems to have often messed around with Ace & make him angry on purpose, but it was all in good nature; they are very close. Apparently his brother was even more excited than their parents when they found out Ace got into NRC.² Ace has also mentioned his grandma a few times; she taught him about the Ghost Camera³ and warned him about magic blotting.⁴

1. Ace School Uniform PS 2. Ace Ceremony Robes voice lines 3. Main Story 0-19 4. Main Story 2-4

Deuce

Mother

Grandmother

He is an only child¹ and loves his mom very much. The entire reason he’s trying so hard to be an honors student is so that he can become a son she can be proud of. He once cried when she called him to tell him just that.²

The only time his grandma was mentioned was when he told a story of his mom crying to her on the phone, thinking she’d failed as a parent (during Deuce’s delinquent days).³

1. Jack Dorm Uniform PS 2. Wish Upon A Star 12 3. Main Story 1-13

Trey

Parents

Younger brother

Younger sister

His family runs a bakery. As the oldest child, he often had to take care of his little siblings (ie. ensuring they all brushed their teeth at night)¹. They all would pester him to bake them desserts,² but he cared for them a lot—one time his little brother really wanted to go to a live magift game so Trey spent his whole allowance to get him a ticket.³

1. Trey School Uniform PS 2. Ace School Uniform PS 3. Trey Wish Upon A Star voice lines

Cater

Parents

Two older sisters

Because of his dad’s work as a banker, their family had to move about once every two years, all over the world.¹ Cater hadn’t had any long-lasting friends because of this.

He has described his sisters as “unreasonable,” his dislikes in his profile are listed as “having to suck up to his sisters,” and when everyone was going home for winter holiday, he said he’d rather stay with Trey’s family.² In his voice lines, he mentioned that he can’t relate to Yuu feeling homesick because his sisters would just be waiting for him at home. His sisters rated everything by how cute it was, and if something “wasn’t cute” to them then Cater would have to redo it.³

They would get more excited about his birthday than he would, and buy him all kinds of presents he didn’t particularly like (such as stuffed animals, dolls, perfumes, soaps, etc). But they weren’t trying to be intentionally mean, and recently have started paying attention to what he really wants.⁴

When he was about 10 years old, his mom and sisters were always baking sweets. Cater was excited about this at first because it meant he could get lots of treats, but his sisters would make him eat everything. If he refused, they’d look so disheartened, and Cater couldn’t say no to that, so he kept forcing himself to eat. Because of this, he now hates sweets.⁴

1. Cater Scary Dress PS 2. Main Story 4-3 3. Cater Lab Coat PS 4. Cater Birthday PS

Leona

Falena (older brother)

Cheka (nephew)

Sister-in-law

Leona is a member of Afterglow Savannah’s royal family. His brother and his sister-in-law are the current rulers, and Cheka is next in line to the throne. Leona has constantly felt inferior and bitter that he and Falena are treated so differently based off nothing but birth order.¹ But he greatly respects his sister-in-law; she’s one of the only people he would never talk back to.² Cheka is very affectionate and clingy towards him.

1. Main Story 2-27 2. Ruggie’s Chat w/ Jack

Jack

Parents

Younger brother

Younger sister

Grandparents

Jack is the oldest in his family with an 11yo brother and a 7yo sister. He and his siblings are all very athletic; they used to play tag with each other for 6 hours on end.¹ Jack has said that wolf beastmen pick one soulmate to spend their whole life with, and his parents + grandparents are always at each others’ side, when they wake up, go on walks, eat, and go to sleep.²

1. Jack Happy Beans Day PS 2. Ace Ghost Marriage PS

Ruggie

Mother (deceased)

Father (unknown)

Grandmother

Ruggie's mother "became a star up in the sky" shortly after giving birth to him. His father went away for work and never came back, and to this day Ruggie doesn't know what happened to him.¹

He lives with his grandma in the slums of Afterglow Savannah. They were poor and struggled to find food to eat, but his grandma could make delicious food out of any ingredients they could find. Ruggie learned to cook from her.² He described her as very kind but also tough.

Ruggie seemed to have taken care of the other kids in the neighborhood too-- when everyone went home over winter break, he brought home leftovers from the cafeteria to feed his grandma and the kids.³

1. Ruggie Birthday PS 2. Ruggie School Uniform PS 3. Main Story 4-3

Azul

Mother

Stepfather

Grandmother

His mom fell in love with her divorce lawyer while separating from Azul’s biological father. She’s also the owner of the Ashengrottoes’ famous ristorante in the Coral Sea.¹ Because of their business, Azul grew up a foodie and was exposed to a lot of different foods from a young age.²

His stepfather is kind and honest, and very clever when it comes to his work. Azul respects him and they seem to have a good relationship. He taught him about law and contracts.¹

Everyone in the Ashengrotto family is a mage, but Azul’s grandmother is said to be especially powerful. She was known for helping those in need, and very “merciful,” just like Azul.¹

1. Azul Birthday PS 2. Azul Dorm Uniform PS

Jade & Floyd

Parents

Their parents started teaching them self-defense since they were little.¹ We don’t know many details of their childhood, but there was an interesting exchange between them—Jade once said “he made the right choice choosing Floyd as his partner,” and Floyd replied that “he’s glad Jade is the one that survived with him, too.”²

In Floyd’s Wish story, he brought up how their father told him to buy a nice pair of shoes when he went on land because “men who don’t pay attention to the small details get patronized” so your appearance is very important. Hearing this gave Idia and Ortho an uneasy feeling about Mr. Leech.

1. Jade PE Uniform voice lines 2. Floyd Dorm Uniform PS

Kalim

Parents

30-40 younger siblings

Kalim’s father comes from a long line of merchants and is supposedly the greatest one in the family. But despite how busy he is, he’s always wearing a smile. Kalim’s mother is the only one in the family who can use magic. She’s described as very kind, is always praising Kalim, and almost never gets angry.¹

Kalim doesn’t know the exact number of siblings he has, but he can put names to faces for all of them, and he often plays hide and seek with them in their house. He doesn’t come from a royal family (they’re just extremely rich), but some of his distant relatives are actual royalty.² One of his distant cousins apparently owns a tiger.³ His family has about 100 servants along with specialists like a personal doctor⁴ and a beast tamer.

1. Kalim Birthday PS 2. Main Story 4-8 3. Silver Lab Coat PS 4. Main Story 4-17

Jamil

Parents

Najma (younger sister)

His family has served the Asims for generations. His parents knew Jamil was a very bright child, but they insisted that he must always let Kalim be better than him, and would reprimand him for talking too casually to his young master.¹ Jamil seems to share a typical sibling relationship with his sister Najma. They often bicker with each other, but they’re on good terms. Najma used to bake him cookies for his birthday² and they would also get into fights because she’d tell him his cooking looked too plain.³ Jamil gave his VDC plus-one ticket to her during Episode 5.

Najma made her first in-game appearance during the Aleab Naria event. Their father had sent her to deliver a message in-person to Jamil, since he isn’t versed in technology likes PCs and phones and didn’t trust that a text would suffice.⁴

Najma claims that she and Jamil look nothing alike, but they tend to make near-identical expressions. She was relieved to see that he has a few friends at NRC because he never talks about them whenever he comes home.⁴ In one scene, Jamil reminds her to wipe her hands before eating and gives her a wet wipe, and she huffs at him to not treat her like a child. Trey notes how well Jamil looks after her, but Cater thinks he is a little bit overprotective.

1. Main Story 4-36 2. Jamil Birthday PS 3. Jamil Dorm Uniform PS 4. Aleab Naria 3-4, 3-5, 3-7

Vil

Eric (father)

Vil’s father is an extremely famous actor and goes by the stage name Eric Venue. Even the Leeches’ father is a fan of some of his movies.¹ Vil has mentioned that his dad would come home dressed in special effects makeup & costumes every Halloween,² and also used to read him stories about the Beautiful Queen.³

1. Vil Scary Dress PS 2. Vil Scary Dress voice lines 3. Scary Monsters 3-2

Epel

Parents

Grandparents

Aunt & Uncle (uncle is biological)

Male Cousin

Epel’s family lives on an apple farm that’s been around for generations. They all live in the same house. His village is also made up of farmers, and they often help each other out during the busy season and have big barbecues together. It feels like they’re one big family.¹

His relatives often send him apples from home since they have such an abundance of them. They seem to have some business struggles; Epel taught himself how to beautifully carve apples when he was young because many were blemished and wouldn’t otherwise sell.² He has also mentioned wanting to make a potion that strengthens weak apple trees to make his grandpa happy.³

Besides Epel, his grandma and great-grandma are the only ones in the family who can use magic.⁴ They ride brooms to pick apples that are too high to reach on foot. Epel wanted to help them when he was little so everyday he would get on a broom and try hopping up and down, and then one day it worked! Ever since then he’s helped with that task as well.

1. Epel Birthday PS 2. Epel School Uniform PS 3. Epel Lab Coat voice lines 4. Epel Ceremony Robes voice lines / Birthday PS

Idia & Ortho

???

The Shrouds are a noble family and famous for some reason, but Idia has said that being from a noble family isn’t all that great.¹ When he was worrying about being seen at the entrance ceremony, he expected people might gossip about how he’s from “the cursed Shroud family,” and that he’ll “spread misfortune to them.”² At another time, he mentioned that the audience would be apprehensive about what kind of “weird research” he did if he had to present his research on stage.³

1. Idia PE Uniform PS 2. Idia Ceremony Robes PS 3. Main Story 5-3

Lilia, Malleus, Silver

Malleus’ grandmother

Lilia was one of the Queen of the Valley of Thorns’ most trusted soldiers when he used to fight for the royal family.¹ In Cater’s Lab Coat story, they created mandrakes that reflected parts of themselves, and Lilia’s was said to “carry the cry of a tragic hero.”

He has watched over Malleus “ever since he had an eggshell over his head.” An infant Malleus once singed Lilia’s bangs by breathing fire and Lilia was so proud that he raised a glass of tomato juice to him.²

Malleus is the heir to the Valley of Thorns, a descendant of the king “who rules over all creatures of the night,” and his only living relative is his grandmother, the current Queen of the Valley. He spent much of his childhood alone in the castle. He used this time to learn how to play all kinds of stringed instruments. His grandmother is so busy that she shouldn’t even have spare time to write him letters, but every year on his birthday, she sends him one without fail, along with rose seeds from the garden by their castle.³

Long after Malleus had grown up, both he and Lilia took in baby Silver for an unknown reason. Silver thought he was his biological dad when he was little, and continues to refer to him as “Father.” They lived deep in the forest in the Valley of Thorns before coming to NRC. Apparently Silver was very easy to take care of; he would fall right to sleep after eating Lilia’s homemade food.⁴

At one point, Sebek also became one of Lilia’s pupils. He and Silver are the only two from their generation living in the Valley.⁵ When they were little, Lilia would have them undergo training like soldiers, but then he realized he should raise them more like kids, and started making their training more fun. He had them play tag in forests crawling with beasts, hide and seek in vast deserts, and “the floor is lava” in the mountains of needles.⁶

1. Silver Ceremony Robes 2. Lilia PE Uniform PS 3. Malleus Birthday PS 4. Lilia Lab Coat voice lines 5. Sebek School Uniform voice lines 6. Lilia Birthday PS

Sebek

Parents

Older brother

Older sister

Grandfather

Sebek’s mother is a nocturnal faerie and his father is a human who works as a dentist. They met when his mother had an appointment at his clinic. She was immediately charmed and courted him despite her surroundings being against her marrying a human. Now, she works at the clinic as his assistant.¹

Sebek greatly respects his mother and raves about how she’s extremely gifted with magic and has a strong sense of justice. His opinion of his dad, on the other hand, is much different—his dad seems very loving and often showers his children in praises, sweets, and gifts, but it drives Sebek crazy. He doesn’t understand how his mother saw any appeal in him.¹

Since his parents were often busy with their clinic, Sebek spent his childhood running off to visit his grandpa, or fishing and playing in the water with his siblings. Based on the fact that Sebek and Silver were said to be the only ones in their generation living in the Valley,² his siblings are most likely considerably older than him.

All we know about his grandpa is that Malleus also knew him, and mentioned that Sebek shares his hot-blooded temper.³

1. Sebek Birthday PS 2. Sebek School Uniform voice lines 3. Scary Monsters event story

No current info: Rook

Last updated: July 27, 2021

#twst notes #misc lists

[greenninjagal-blog]

15 for Anxceitmus pls - Anon 👽

I’ll be honest I’ve had a plan for this one for days but never enough time to sit down and write it. Now lets see how this goes :D

Summary: Virgil steals a taste of a cake that’s not his and ends up poisoned.

Words: 4360

Quick Taglist: @chelsvans @faithfulcat111 @felicianoromano @holliberries @jemthebookworm @killerfangirl3 @lunasfriendgabby @never-end1ng-suffering @silverflame-wc @stricken-with-clairvoyancy @thenaiads @treasureofpriam 

Read on Ao3 || My General Writing Masterlist || Prompt page

Piece of Cake

“I’m sorry, I know it hurts, but you have to trust me okay?” the voice says.

At least Virgil, thinks the voice says it. He can’t really tell over the noise in his head and burning fire in his lungs and screaming in the background of everything that was going on. He can’t even see really, based on the rush of white and black dots all over his vision like pin needles getting jabbed directly into his eyes as his throat shreds itself apart again and again and again.

He’s not sure what is happening, not sure when he hit the floor or how the world around him compressed into just him or why his entire body seems to be trying to rip itself apart with varying levels of success. 

He sure that it hurts. 

And that he hasn’t cried like this since he was kid and he fell and hit his head on the cobblestone fountain in the market and there was just...so much blood everywhere and he thought he was going to die back then.

It had just been a bit of icing.

And Virgil can still taste it on his lips between the blood and the salty tears and the vomit. The avocado taste that he hadn’t had since his mother had passed from the plague a decade prior.

The burning in his lungs is agony, like he jumped into the castle furnace and breathed in the cinders for fun. He strains his arms to tear at his chest where the boiling feeling seems to bleed from, but something is holding him down, and he screams, pleads, begs-- anything, just to make it stop. He’s sorry, he’s sorry, he won’t do it again, he swears--

It’s like a white-hot poker being driven between his ribs and twisting, like a dragon’s breath right before those sharpened foot long teeth snap him right in half, like his head had been tilted back and he’d swallowed lava.

He writhes against it, but something has his left arm and his right wrist and there’s a weight on his legs that keep him from moving despite the desperation in his motions. Every inhale moves the flames--and he can’t quite tell if they’re imaginary anymore, surely something imaginary wouldn’t couldn’t doesn’t hurt like this hurts so much so badly he’s sorry sosorrypleasejustmakeitstopplease---

Then, all at once, it’s over.

The fire reels back, flooded by a cold so icy it steals the rest of the breath he had. His limbs feel like lead and they drop to the floor of the kitchen. It’s also mercifully silent, which seems eerily impossible because the Castle is never silent ever. His vision swims like dunking in and out of the river back home when he went swimming with the older kids in the river. Far over head the gaping arches of the room fade in and out of clarity. The hollowness rings faintly in him, followed by an all-consuming exhaustion that peels away the rest of his thoughts.

“Virgil?” Someone says his name.

He almost recognizes them. He should probably recognize them.

There are faces over him, people he knows, but they’re too blurry to make out. All he wants is sleep suddenly. A deep dark long sleep.

“Let him sleep, your highness,” someone else says softer. “He’s okay now.”

 And then Virgil’s eyes close and he loses consciousness.

The unfortunate truth of the matter was that Virgil had no reason to be in the kitchen in the first place. He should have been mending that tapestry that the twin Princes had mangled in spontaneous duel last week, or adding the few last details to the new tunic Prince Remus had been instructed him to prepare, or fixing the tear in Prince Roman’s riding cloak, or simply catching up on sleep that he had missed while pressing himself to finish the new Birthday outfits for the Twins Ball at the end of the week.

But as it stood he had slipped from his crafting room to the kitchen in hopes that the Head of the Kitchen would take pity on him like he had done so many times before and offer him some scraps from the feast that was going on. 

Some noble had arrived in the early morning and the castle had been abuzz with energy as the King welcomed him. Virgil had already heard several rumors about it, just from lurking on the corner counter out of the way of the scurrying kitchen maids and the servant runners. 

“Something about him strikes me as odd,” Patton had admitted to him between cutting up strawberries, helping a maid balance a honey bun tray, and directing a newer servant boy on the proper way to refill a spare goblet. “I didn’t like the look he gave Prince Roman at all.”

And Virgil had snorted at that, swiping a glob of honey from the empty pan before it when to the stack of dirty dishes. “You don’t like any way anyone looks at Prince Roman.” He had pointed out sucking on his index finger.

Patton gave him a disapproving look but waved off his blatant theft. “I don’t know what you mean, kiddo-- Lower Terrance! If you keep trying to pour from that height there’s a chance you’ll miss and stain the table cloth-- I know that he’s an important noble, but the way he was looking at Roman was the way a butcher eyes a piece of meat before he cuts it.”

Virgil swallowed and eyed the cook carefully. “Well, how was he looking at Prince Remus?”

“He wasn’t.”

Virgil frowned, “Wasn’t? He ignored the second Prince?” Which seemed ridiculous on all fronts. First of all, Prince Remus was royalty, and no one ignores royalty, ever. Not even if its 3 A.M. and they send for you to discuss a different pattern for the tunic you were making for them and you barely have time to put on presentable clothes much less brush your hair. Secondly, Prince Remus was impossible to ignore even if you were trying to: between his gaudy outfits and the morning star he kept looped on his belt like a sword and his voice which echoed off the cement at all hours of the day, he stood out wherever he went. His auburn hair and green eyes made him quite the talk of the castle.

Patton wrung his dish cloth between his fingers before going back to slicing strawberries. “Well not at first. He bowed and present Remus a cake. After that Remus was too distracted to really notice anything else.”

Virgil had snuck a strawberry from the pile yet to be cut and pops it in his mouth, chews, swallows and then asks politely, “What about his consort?” 

“You mean Dee?” Patton slid a sliced strawberry to the side of the wooden board. Virgil had thought was entertaining that Patton had even asked. Roman didn’t take consorts, and Remus only had one: a man by the name of Dee who had the eyes like butter and a smile too soft. His hair flowed like a golden hay field, and his voice was like a fable siren’s. Virgil hadn’t heard him sing, but he couldn’t imagine that there had ever been an instance where he hadn’t been able to get what he wanted from someone.

Dee was pretty, but in a sense that it was too pretty to be real. Like a snake oil merchant come to sell wares to the naive populace. 

But Virgil was biased on all fronts: Dee had always been present when Virgil had need to take measurements of Prince Remus for his new tunic, and every time he’d been summoned after that, watching Virgil’s every move like a predator waiting for the perfect time to strike. Virgil’s hands had shaken so badly he had barely been able to read his own notes later, and even if he tried to tell himself it was the stress, he knew it was because of how delightfully attracted he was to two things that weren’t open for him to even dream about. So, he buried thoughts of Prince Remus’s muscles and of Dee’s breathy laughter and pretended that they didn’t keep him awake at night.

“Dee was impassive, you know,” Patton had said, drawing Virgil from his thoughts, “I’m never able to read him.”

“Not like I can read Prince Roman,” went unsaid, but Virgil could hear it under his words. 

“What kind of cake was it?” Virgil had asked instead, because he was a merciful friend and wasn’t about to bother a man about unrequited crushes while he was kick dirt over his own emotions.

Patton had wrinkled his nose. “Avocado! Can you believe it? I’ve never heard of an avocado cake before!”

Virgil blinked. He had glanced towards the end of the counter where the cake had been placed so elegantly. He had been eying it all night, letting his mouth water how good he imagined it might be, but knowing it was avocado? “My mom...she used to make those. They were my favorite.”

“Oh, I know that look,” Patton said, pointing his knife at him, “You know that cake is for the Prince. He already declared that no one but him is allowed to have it, Virge. Even if I wanted to slip you some, that would put both of our necks at risk.”

And Virgil knew that, he did. But it was a large cake. Surely, the Prince couldn’t eat it all by himself.

And frankly he knew enough about the royal family by now to know that absolutely no one else would eat a monstrosity like that. Prince Roman didn’t even like avocados to begin with and had loudly complained the last time Patton had tried sneaking it into a meal.

Was the man really going to miss if Virgil snags just swatch of the icing?

Patton lightly hit his hand. “Don’t,” He warned with that stern voice of his which revealed his years over Virgil. 

“I wasn’t!” Virgil lied.

“I’ll toss you out of my kitchen, Virgil.” Patton had told him. “Because I’d rather lose your company for the next few nights than have to watch you be run through for stealing from the crown.”

“It’s a cake.” Virgil whined.

Patton gave him another warning gaze and moved another strawberry around. He had been about to say something else, but at that moment Logan, the resident mage who always chose to stay scarce when there were visiting nobles about the halls, had chosen to flourish down the servant staircase which had appropriately distracted them both. Not that Virgil had been hoping for a distraction. 

But who was he to stare a gift horse in a mouth?

Logan had zeroed in on Patton, per usual, causing the cook to blush the same way he did around Prince Roman and Logan had mentioned something about a plant they were attempting to magically grow. Virgil hadn’t really been focusing on the words as much as the fact that Patton’s eyes stayed trained on Logan while he talked. 

Virgil had inched down the counter, placing a finger to his lips when Terrance noticed what he was doing. He reached out with on hand and flicked just enough of the icing that he’d get a taste, but not enough to disturb the overall look of the cake. In fact, Virgil was certain no one would even know he took some if they hadn’t seen anything. 

“Virgil!” Patton yelled just as he popped his finger in his mouth. 

Virgil had stiffened at the sound of his name and whirled back to face a very mad Patton and a surprised Logan. The taste of avocado had hit the back of his throat, which almost made him feel great: it tasted just as earthy as he remembered it being when his mother made it, with just the right bitter aftertaste  that made Virgil want more, although he didn’t remember it being quite so prominent--

“That was the Prince’s Cake!” Patton had shouted, “As in Prince Remus! I don’t care if you are in good graces with his highness! That was a stupid- stupid -stupid-- what on earth were you thinking? Virgil--!!”

And that was when Virgil had first felt the burning, like an itch in his throat that had suddenly swept him up. Patton’s voice had faded as he grabbed for his own throat, for his chest, for anything to remove the sudden agony ravaging his body. He had toppled straight off the counter in the middle of whatever else Patton had shouted, taking the cake right down with him.

Because that was just Virgil’s luck that he’d steal a lick of the second Prince’s cake and end up poisoned within an inch of his life.

And to be honest, the price for stealing from the crown in most cases is death, and since Virgil had been pretty sure he was going to die anyway he figures when he closes his eyes that was going to be the end. 

He wakes up, with someone carting their fingers through his hair the way his mother used to do, before she had gotten sick and died from that plague that had taken over half their village. His head feels like someone had stuffed cotton between his ears, his throat like someone had forced him to swallow swords. He’s warm, which was a strange concept: usually the servants’ quarters are cool, even in the summer and Virgil’s blankets are never quite been enough to stave off the tendrils of chill that seep into his cot. But here and now? Oh, he’s so warm and comfortable he never wants to move again.

“--want him killed!”

“I know you do, your highness.” Another voice says, a voice that’s closer and more comfortable, “But there’s much more to gain from keeping him alive.”

“That cake was intended for Me!” There is the sound of something shattering, something ceramic, and fancy, and expensive.

Virgil tries to shift, tries to open his eyes, but it’s just so...exhausting. The hand in his hair drags slightly, before restarting softly, more gently than before.

“It’s okay, Love,” the voice over him says softly. “I’ve got you. Go back to sleep.”

Something else crashes. And another. And another. 

There are more after that, but Virgil doesn’t remember them.

The next time he wakes, he’s more aware of where he is: he can feel the luxurious goose feather blanket draped over his chest, and how several of the loose feathers tickle his chin with each inhale, can feel the soft pads of fingers dancing through his hair in a way that make him want to relax and drift off again, can feel the coolness of a wet cloth on his forehead that wards off an overheating.

Its comfortable, its perfect.

But there’s never been a perfect thing in Virgil’s entire life.

He shifts, moaning with the effort to get his body to move after so long (?) of stiffness. He hadn’t realized that there had been people talking around him, until the conversation comes to a soft stop and the hand in his hair retracts slightly.

Virgil’s eyes open and he almost believes he’s still dreaming.

He knows where he is, even though he can’t believe it: he’d know the opulent bedframe and those darkened green curtains anywhere; he’d know those grey and silver blankets, and that room shape even if he should have fallen blind with everything else that had happened. He had been in that room far too many times for him to not have known.

He’s in the Second Prince’s room, lying in the second Prince’s bed, under the second Prince’s covers, and the Second Prince’s consort was sitting beside him with his hand in Virgil’s hair and another hold a book he seems to have been in the middle of reading.

“Oh,” Dee, the consort who was far too pretty to be anything other than trouble, says softly. “You’re awake.”

“He’s awake?” The sound of the Prince Remus startles Virgil, although it shouldn’t have. It only made sense that the owner of the room would also be in his own room.

What does not make sense is why that Virgil is there.

“Softly,” Dee says to the Prince without removing his eyes from where he’s staring down at Virgil with an expression that he doesn’t dare put an actual name to. The very idea of it makes the back of Virgil’s mouth sting.

Prince Remus had been across the room, perhaps staring out that large window which he did often while waiting for Virgil to respond to his summons, but he comes to the bed almost before Virgil can form another thought. Virgil tries to sit up, tries to move because this was the Prince and Virgil had already been caught stealing a taste from his cake and he was lucky they did just let him die--

Prince Remus puts a hand on Virgil’s shoulder and lightly shoves him back to the pillows, back to Dee’s side, back down. Whatever strength Virgil thinks he has disappears right out of his limbs.

There’s something strange about the Prince, Virgil notes squinting up at him. Not that there isn’t usually something strange about him; it seemed that every time Virgil was requested to his presence there was something just off about him. Virgil had thought it had been like a tease: something that would stick in his mind while he threaded his needles and cause him to shake his head with fondness. It had seemed that Remus had made a game out of it too, on the rare occasions where Virgil almost asked if he was cultivating some sort of joke, and the Prince had smirked at him and dared him to say something (which of course he never did, because Virgil quite likes his head where it’s attached to his neck, and the feel of Dee’s eyes on made him dangerously aware of his own standing).

But this sort of strangeness was not like the other times. It’s a calmness that encompasses the Prince, much like a still pond moments before a stone plunges into the depths. There’s no extra energy, no mischievous glints, smug crude joke. There’s just Prince Remus, and a seriousness that make Virgil fear for his life.

This is the Prince who could beat most of the military with nothing but his fist and his morning star. This is the Prince who could stare down an invading army and send them running home with just a single threat. This is the Prince who would challenge Death to a duel and make it out with his soul.

There’s a fresh cut across his cheek that hadn’t been there the last time Virgil had seen him, as if he had dodged a blade by mere inches and dismissed the attack as not nearly as worthy of his attention as Virgil somehow was.

“Why did you eat that cake?” Prince Remus asks.

“Re—” Dee says sharply.

The Prince holds up a hand at him, and Dee holds his tongue. “I want to know.”

Virgil suddenly feels like the blankets are constricting, tightening around his torso and his chest like a vice. His body shakes at the very idea of the cake. The mere thought of avocado makes his mouth violently taste like blood and his throat smolders with the threat of pain.

His hands go to his neck, to relive the pressure that’s not really there, but Dee is quicker. The consort catches both his wrists and pins them softly to Virgil’s abdomen with one hand and uses the other to rub tenderly rub Virgil’s cheek.

“It’s okay,” the consort says, in a soothing tone, that makes Virgil want to cry, “Shh, you’re okay now, Virgil.”

“I’m s-sorry,” Virgil chokes out, “S-sorry.”

Whatever the Prince is looking for, he doesn’t seem satisfied. He stands up again, fiercely shoving the bedframe. He takes three steps from the bed and then spins back around with a murderous expression.

“Sorry?” He shouts. “He’s sorry!” He slips his morning star from its hook on his belt and spins to swing it against the wall.

“Remus!” Dee interrupts.

“Shut up!” Prince Remus snarls right back. The sound of metal against the stone walls explodes throughout the room, causing Dee to tense up. Its violent and cold and Virgil hates it, hates that he caused it, hates that he doesn’t know why and he’s too afraid to ask.

Dee shifts like he wants to get up, wants to go to his prince and cup his face to ground him back to a reality before he does something he will regret, but in the end he stays right with Virgil. And Virgil is selfish enough that he’s thankful more than he’s guilty. The sunlight from the windows make the consort’s hair glitter gold and the black jewels around his neck that claim him as Prince Remus’s property glint harshly. His touch is far softer than Virgil would have expected, softer than the blankets, softer than a breeze on a warm summer’s day.

The prince swings four more times at the wall, deepening darkening cracks without the slightest care in the world. Then he takes his weapon and throws it across the room where it collides something else beyond Virgil’s line of vision before falling mercifully silent.

“Are you finished, your majesty?” Dee says in a tone that’s dangerous close to being chiding.

“I will be finished when I have that skamelar’s head at my feet!” Prince Remus says nastily. “That cake was intended for me!”

“I’m sorry,” Virgil whimpers again.

“And just what do you have to be sorry for?” Prince Remus turns on him, “Tell me, Virgil! If not for you, I would be dead from having boiled from the inside! Or maybe from having clawed my way right into my ribcage. Or maybe from having ripped my own throat apart? I’m sure that would have been a lovely sight for everyone to watch!”

Virgil’s heart clenches, and he doesn’t know what to say, what he should do. The back of his throat tastes like the inside of his stomach, like blood, and poison, and avocado. And the Second Prince is saying his name like it’s the most normal thing in the world, talking like Virgil had done it on purpose, sounding like Virgil had saved his life and that meant something more than fate intervening at the right moment.

Dee says, “We came so close to losing you, Virgil. It was a matter of luck that you survived. Logan said that if he had been any further away, if you had taken any bigger of a taste... you would not have stayed alive long enough for him to figure out the cure.”

They talk like it means something. Like Virgil’s life is worth something more than the tailoring services he supplies, like he can’t just be replaced with just a single royal announcement, like they think Virgil is….

“W-why?” Virgil trembles. “Why are you—"

Prince Remus kneels next to the bed, and his head dips slightly so that his black crown bows for Virgil.

“Did you really think that all these times I just wanted new clothes?” The Prince says so quietly Virgil’s breathe catches. “That I’m not capable of fixing my own holes in my trousers, or my cloaks, or that I truly cared if what I was wearing had rips in them at all? Before you came along Father had been threatening to take all of my weapons and lock me in a tower so I would stop going through fabrics so quickly.”

Dee’s fingers ghost over Virgil’s chin lightly. “And a three A.M. summons is surely the most normal thing for the royal tailor.” There’s a teasing smile on his lips, lips that Virgil thinks might be very nice against his. “Our prince was quite inconsolable when you appeared looking just as presentable as normal, Love.”

There’s something about the way he says words--“our prince”, “Love”--like they’re the most normal and natural things in the entire Kingdom.

“Don’t pretend like you haven’t spent night waxing poetry to me about what you want to do with him, Dee!” The prince commands.

“I have no clue what you are referring to, your highness,” Dee says with a red blush across his ears.

Prince Remus looks up at both of them, before leaning forward on the bed. Like a magnet, Dee moves towards him as well and meets him for a smiling kiss in right over Virgil.

He’s seen them kiss dozens of times: soft kisses, warm kisses, kisses so openly filled with love that Virgil feels like he’s intruding when he looks at them. They’ve kissed while Virgil had taken measurements, when he had been taking notes for the specific requests the Prince had for him, when Virgil had been leaving to go about his duties.

Virgil has never left apart of a kiss like this. His lips are on anyone’s and the only touch he has is where Dee was still holding his hands, which had turned into him lacing their fingers together in a mangled knot. Prince Remus reaches out and takes his other hand, and who is he to deny his prince?

He feels faint, float, not really. Surely, he was still dreaming; the last wisps of the poison having their fun with him. Surely, he was about to wake up and find himself not nearly this lucky.

“Don’t scare us like that again, Virgil,” Prince Remus says, breathlessly as he presses his forehead to Dee’s and squeezes Virgil’s hand, “Not before I have a chance to properly court you. I’ll bring you a barbarians head on a stake or something!”

Dee merely smiles down at him and says “Love.”

Virgil thinks that if he died, perhaps this wasn’t such a bad place to spend the rest of eternity.

#sanders sides #greengabs #Anxceit #demus #anxceitmus #virgil sanders #Remus Sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #your author might be touched starved! #we aren't sure yet! #also might make a part two some day #alternative universe

[lunarliza]

JJ Maybank Must Die | Chapter 2: Ping Pong Balls

fuckboy!JJ x Reader

series masterlist | chapter one

JJ Maybank is the island’s most infamous fuckboy- not that you ever cared. But when a group of tourist girls come to your surf shop crying to you about him, you agree to help them plot revenge. Sabotage is all fun and games, until you find that the playboy you were sworn to ruin happens to be falling head over heels for you.

Yes, this is based on John Tucker Must Die lol

Problem not solved.

You and Sophia eagerly sipped on your smoothies, waiting for the trio to show up to their five-o’clock session the Monday following the party. Alas, they piled through the front door with deflated shoulders. 

“Well?” Sophia perked, eyes gleaming, “How’d it go? Did you make him cry?! Please don’t spare any details!” Her palms clasped together in front of her like a kid who just came up with an evil-genius plan.

“Tell them what happened,” Annalise ordered Arabella, clocking the fiery-haired girl’s shoulder. 

Arabella sighed dejectedly. “Well... not exactly. So I went to the party, hoe clothes on and everything like we planned. Saw him, used my signature look and look away move, and it worked! He came over and we started talking and-”  

��She fucked him,” Maia finished bluntly, prompting a betrayed gasp from Sophia and face-palm from you. 

“Mhm,” Annalise added, “He whisked her away before me or Maia could get the chance to interfere.” 

“I couldn’t help it!” Arabella cried, covering her face in mortification, “He was just so... smooth and sweet. And those eyes! We started talking about sea turtles! You guys know they are my weakness.”

You couldn’t help look on your face. Arabella was sweet, no doubt, but boy, the girl sure was spineless. It was a good thing she was pretty.  

“He is the devil!” Sophia enunciated each word of her sentence and huffed. “This is going to be harder than I thought!” 

“We just need someone stronger! Someone with a heart of steel unlike this one,” Annalise added, smacking her friend on the back. 

“We could give it another go,” you agreed, “but who’d be our guinea pig now?”  

You pondered at the ceiling until you felt all four pairs of eyes practically stab at you. It was like jumping into a vulture’s nest. 

“Oh no, not me!”

“Why not?” Maia questioned, frustrated. “You’re the only available one left. Plus, you couldn’t give two shits about him. It’ll be like busy work to you.” 

“Yeah not gonna happen. Find someone else, please. This is non-negotiable.” 

Out of nowhere, Sophia seized your hand and tugged you into the back room of the shop. “Excuse us for a minute,” she said to the girls before shutting the door of the crammed space.

It was a good thing your supervisor left early for the day, your asses would be toast if he were to witness the scene. 

“I think you should do it,” your best friend urged.  

“Have you lost your mind?!” you yelled-whispered. 

“Oh come on, y/n! Do it for me. For Annalise. No! Do it for all the girls on this island who has ever shed a single tear for him!” 

You sighed heavily. “I can’t do it, Soph. I’m sorry. He’s terrible and Karma has her kiss for him, but not me. Also, you know how I feel about those parties at the Boneyard.” Your look grew to one of disgust. 

“Mhm,” she crossed her arms, “This wouldn’t be because of Pope would it?” 

“No!” 

Yes. It absolutely was. 

So you might’ve maybe use to have a teensy tiny little crush on Pope Heyward-one of JJ’s best friends. It wasn’t your fault he was so cute and smart... and respectful! 

The boy stole your heart and ran away with it when you were paired up for science lab sophomore year. Him, being the genius he was, always did the experiments so gracefully while you royalty fucked everything up. 

One day, you poured the wrong solution into the beaker and the goopy liquid exploded everywhere. However, without an ounce of complaint, Pope offered to stay after with you to scrub down the walls and tables. A modern day romance if there ever was one. 

After months of daydreaming about him, you finally worked up the courage to ask him to the end-of-year dance. Sophia and your other friends hyped you up as you approached his locker after school.

Much to you dismay, he said no. But he did it in such a nice way, you couldn’t hate him for it. If anything, it made you hurt even more that you got rejected so kindly. Ever since then, you never stepped foot near him or his friends, too humiliated to even think of it. 

“You’re a terrible liar, y/n,” Sophia stated. 

She then grabbed onto your shoulders to stare you straight in the eyes. “Look, I know you swore never to see Pope again, but, honestly, fuck him! He missed out on a kick-ass date. But think- you could kill two birds with one stone! Go to the Boneyard, look hot as fuck, dance on JJ a bit and then vamoose! Pope’s jealous and JJ gets a bite in the ass!”  

Your brows furrowed in annoyance. Leave it to Sophia to convince you into her petty ploys. “I don’t know...” 

She persisted further. “Okay, I wasn’t going to tell you this because I knew you’d be super jealous, but my cousin got me front row to Venus Panic in Charlotte at the end of the summer.” 

Your eyes jolted out of your head. “No fucking way!” 

You loved Venus Panic with a dying passion. They were your favorite band who never ever came to the U.S. 

Sophia let out a long breath. “Yes. If you do this, y/n, the ticket,” she paused, “the ticket is yours.” 

It was like pulling teeth from her to make that kind of offer. Damn her for being so conniving! 

“Alright. For Venus, I’ll do it.” 

“Thank the gods!” Sophia leaped up and down in the confined room, hugging you and thanking you a ga-zillion times. 

She looked as if she sealed a million dollar deal when you two emerged from the room. You, on the other hand, were ready to fling yourself to the seagulls. 

“Operation JJ Maybank must die is a go girls!” she announced before the group started frolicking up and down, earning stares from people looking through the glass. 

“Alright, alright,” you said as they settled down, “Now that we have that done, can we please actually surf now?” 

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

The night of the next Boneyard party, you and Sophia drove to the condo the girls were staying at. Pulling up to the building, both yours and Sophia’s eyes widened. You knew the complex was on Figure Eight, but you didn’t know it was that luxurious and huge. They even had valet at the front, and you were greeted by doorman on your way in. 

Apparently Annalise’s dad was an important rich man in Virginia. He remarried, and was currently honeymooning in some exotic island. Sending his condolences, he let her choose whichever one of his condos she wanted to stay at for the summer with friends. For some unknown reason, she chose the Outer Banks. 

“Party’s here!” Sophia sang when Arabella answered the door. 

You entered into the spacious unit, in awe. The endless kitchen was lined with white Italian wood while the counters were topped with the fanciest marble you had ever seen. The living room was the size of your house with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the island. And the view was spectacular. 

So this was how the other side lived. 

Maia and Annalise squealed when they emerged from their rooms and hugged you and Sophia hello. They had on silk robes with their hair up in rollers. The Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show had nothing on them. 

They handed you two some seltzers from the fridge before Maia dragged you to the gigantic vanity in her room. Eyeshadow palettes, brushes, and compact powders littered the surface. She sat you down and fiddled with the ends of your hair. 

“So, y/n, what kind of look do you wanna go for tonight?” 

You were taken aback. “I’m not sure. Maybe something natural since we’re gonna be outside?” 

Maia scoffed playfully and shook her head. “Y/n, it’s a party! If you’re not glamming you’re not scamming. Actually say no more! I know exactly what we’re gonna do.” 

And so, she worked her magic as you watched through the bulb-lined mirror. You asked her about the products she was using while she gave you the rundown of the importance of each item and step. She was very knowledgable and swift with her hand- especially when it came to the winged liner. 

You got along with Maia. You learned that she had a successful makeup channel and wanted to start her own brand one day. She also told you about her boyfriend and how he was in Thailand for the entire summer. 

After two hours of searching for lost lip glosses, waiting on Annalise to change for the tenth time, and chugging your fifth seltzer, the five of you finally made it to the Boneyard at its peak hour. 

Linking arms, you all strutted down the beach, ready for your mission. 

The four scattered when you reached the sea of people, leaving you to locate the blonde target. After a few minutes of searching, you couldn’t find a single trace of him or any of his friends. 

Heading over to the keg, you poured yourself a drink in hopes it would loosen your raging nerves. It also didn’t help that Maia’s bikini top was hardly covering your nipples. You knew a nip slip was just waiting to happen at some point in the night. 

You casually sipped your drink and circled the party again, catching a glimpse of the wavy-haired boy at the beer pong area. 

JJ slammed his fists on the table after landing another shot. 

“Fuck yes! One last shot and your ass is grass!” he belted to his competitors: two random tourist boys who were chugging at a ridiculously slow pace. JJ then proceeded to high-five his friend, John B, who you also recognize from school. 

“Don’t be a coward,” you muttered to yourself before striding to the crowd clamoring around a fold-out table. 

From the sides, you attempted a few of the “flirty glances” Arabella taught you but no luck. The boy would much rather bounce a ping-pong ball.

You resorted to crossing your arms and waiting for the game to be over. With no surprise, JJ and John B won as the tourons groaned and withered away to the bonfire. 

“That’s right baby! Undefeated!” JJ gloated with his hands smugly flung in the air. 

“Alright who’s next?” John B shouted, earning no response from the herd. 

Welp... it’s now or never. 

“I’ll play,” you volunteered and stuck your hand up. You could feel JJ staring at you quizzically.

“Alright, alright we have a challenger! But who’s your partner?” John B asked. You wanted to slap yourself for not thinking this through properly.

“I’ll do it,” a deep voice spoke behind you. You whirled around to meet eyes with none other than Pope. He stood cooly behind you with a beer in hand. 

You originally planned to avoid him at all costs during the party. But that all went down the drain as he set down his drink and started ordering the cups in a pyramid formation. 

“You’re going down Heyward!” JJ hollered, taking the first shot. The ball glided into the first cup with ease. John B’s shot followed, but bounced off to the side. 

Your partner grabbed the beer and hurled it down instantly, using his wrist to wipe his mouth. You snatched the fallen ball on the ground while Pope nodded for you to go first. 

So this might have been the first time you’ve every played beer pong in your life. But, in your defense, you’ve done it a million times on your phone. It couldn’t be that hard. 

You tossed the first shot and it wheezed over all the cups. Whoops. 

“This is too easy,” JJ jeered, eyeing Pope as he made the next throw. It landed in one of the back cups and John B swallowed the contents down. 

“Sorry, I’m just off my game today,” you mumbled to your partner. 

“Nah, don’t worry about it. You wanna know my trick?” Pope raised as another one of JJ’s balls flew into one of your cups. You raised your brows as he handed you the beer. 

“The more drunk you are, the better you play.” 

Guzzling down the liquid luck, you fingered another ball and took your aim. Flinging it towards the mass, you gasped when it actually landed into the center cup. 

“Oh my God!” you cheered as Pope’s face mimicked yours. He high-fived you with both hands as you bounced up and down in glee. 

“That’s what I’m talking about y/n!” 

For the rest of the game you and Pope played neck-and-neck with the other two, continuously making shots and chugging down beer. His tactic worked. You were on fire. 

The flock around you chanted your name every time you scored. You could see your friends hanging around in the far corner hollering your name and sending you thumbs ups. 

It was game point as both teams had one target left. It was their turn. JJ took the stage, chucking the ball skillfully. Much to your demise, it swirled along the rim before plopping in. JJ roared out in victory. 

“Hold your horses,” Pope interjected with a finger in the air, “We still have redemption.” 

“Let’s see it then,” John B panted, worn out from the tension. 

“You got this.” Pope patted you on the back and handed you the ball. 

Your eyes bursted. “W-What? No no no, Pope you go.” 

“Relax, y/n! I believe in you. Just focus.” 

You gulped and turned to the boys taunting you across the table. Saying the quickest Hail Mary in your head, you launched the ball and had to shut your eyes. 

A sudden rush of shrieks alarmed you. Peeling your eyes open, you saw both JJ and John B’s jaws plummet to the ground. 

It went in. 

“Now that’s what the fuck is up!” Pope hurled his fist at this chest. You were frozen in utter disbelief. Maybe the Gods were in your favor. 

Pope added two more cups to your side of the table as John B copied his actions. The four of you went at it a few more times before you were one-and-one again. Both John B and JJ missed and the balls rolled back over to you. 

Taking the first shot again, you slung the ball, but it flew off the rim. You were chattering on your nails as Pope proceeded to make his attempt. 

One swish and the ball landed straight in the hole.  

You both jolted up in the air, doing a little victory dance. JJ shushed you- ready to go for his redemption kill. His ball missed the cup by a hair and John B’s slid off the table, deeming you and Pope the winners. 

In your exhilarated drunken state, you threw your arms around Pope, and he let out a soft chuckle. You hastily pulled away after you realized what you were doing. Thankfully, the crestfallen losers immediately came over to shake your hands and say “Good game.” 

JJ’s hands hung onto yours a moment longer. He studied you with his eyes before treading away towards the bonfire. 

As winners, you and Pope stayed a few more rounds before getting beat out. You noticed JJ come back to watch you for a few rounds, eyes fixated on your every move. 

After shaking hands with the girls who beat you, you waved a confused Pope goodbye and jogged over towards the drink area for water. In the corner of your eye, you saw JJ hurry up to you with giddiness. 

“That was some game you played out there,” he complimented as you swigged down your water. 

“Thanks! Guess I just got lucky back there.” 

He leaned both arms on the table, raising his brows suggestively. “Might just be your lucky night then.”

Oh brother. 

You threw him an uneasy smile and treaded away to the dancing crowd. Of course, he followed you, struggling to keep up with your pace. 

“Hey, what’s your name? I’ve never seen you around before.” 

You scoffed low enough to where he couldn’t hear. Never seen you? You’ve been in the same classes since second grade. 

“I’m y/n.” You slowed down a bit, remembering your sworn duty. 

“Well I’m JJ. JJ Maybank.” He flashed you a toothy smile. 

You stopped amidst the dancers as a popular, high-beat electronic song came on. You flung you hands around JJ’s neck and pulled him close. “Dance with me, JJ Maybank.” 

The two of you rocked back and forth for a while before the music transitioned to a provocative rap song. Both you and the light-haired boy rapped the entire first verse with ease, giggling once the chorus hit. 

“So... how come I’ve never seen you at one of these parties?” 

You shrugged tossing him a look of disinterest. “Not really my thing.” 

He tugged you in so his forehead was on yours. “Then what is your thing then, hm? What’s a cute girl like you up to all summer?” 

“I’m a surfing instructor.” 

“Is that so? You know, I’m a pretty good surfer myself...” His hands traced down to your swaying hips. 

“I’ll be the judge of that,” you retorted, running your hands up and down his biceps flirtatiously. 

It was probably the alcohol doing all the work, because in that moment, you knew you were being absolutely irresistible to the boy who’s hands were burning to stay in the... respectful areas. 

“Maybe one day I can show you,” JJ rasped. You barely heard him through the booming of the speakers, but still locked eyes with him alluringly. 

“Mmm, don’t really have time for amateurs.” 

“Ouch... feisty aren’t we?” His lips were millimeters from yours. 

“Please, you know you like it.” You decided to close the gap. 

Boy, were his lips soft. His chiseled hands made way to tangle up in your hair as he expertly kissed you amongst the throng of people. He slid his tongue into your mouth, and you could feel how hungry he was. 

You stopped after a minute, purposely cutting it short. His eyes were aching for more, but you refused. You wanted to starve him. 

“Wanna get out of here? There’s a cool place on the beach I can show you,” he asked, fingers toying with the back string of your bikini. 

You shrugged. “Why not.”

Smirking, JJ’s hand snaked around your waist as he led you to the back trees of the Boneyard. You approached a small patch of sand enclosed by a circle of trees, and it all clicked in your head. This was his sex hideout. 

You glanced around the spot. The moon beamed straight into it, and the leaves of the trees hung down fancifully. In its own weird way, it was kind of romantic- if you didn’t think about how many times he’s taken people there to fuck.

He tugged you towards the center, wrapping you in his muscular arms. 

“You’re the cutest girl I’ve ever seen. I could just eat you up,” he muttered seductively, nipping at the sides of your jawline. 

You were beginning to understand it now- his irresistibility. The guy was charming. You let him kiss you for a little bit until you felt him undo your back bikini string. 

You quickly jerked away, tying it back into a bow.

“You know what, I think I’m good,” you said abruptly, backing away. 

JJ looked as if someone offered a kid ice cream and knocked the cone off the second he was about to dive in for the first taste. “Wait! Where are you going?” he urged.

“Away.” 

His face flooded in disbelief as he let out a loud scoff, darting after you as you jogged back to the dancing pack.

“Wait! Y/n come back!” he called out. 

“What for? I’m not sleeping with you JJ!” you shouted, making sure everyone around you heard. 

When his face went beet-red you knew you work was done. 

You sped up the sand, out of sight, to Annalise’s car where your friends were circled. They whooped and cheered at your presence. 

“We saw everything!” Maia exclaimed, hauling you in for a bone-tight hug. 

“That was so awesome! Y/n, you’re my hero!” Arabella chimed in while you all crammed into the Mercedes. 

“Ladies, ladies,” Annalise began before pulling out of the parking lot, “Tonight we celebrate the fall of JJ Maybank!” 

The car erupted in drunk glee as everyone swaddled you from their seats. 

As you drove back to the condo, Sophia rolled down her window from the backseat and stuck out her head. 

“Fuck you JJ Maybank!” 

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

note: dw there is even more D R A M A to come lolz 

chapter 3

tags: @obxlife​ @rudyypankow​ @yeehaw87​ @ilymarkchan​ @jellyfishbeansontoast​ @tangledinsparkles​ @toloveortobeinlove​ @pixelated-pogues​ @normatural​ @teamnick​ @drizzlethatfalls​ 

#outerbanks #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #jj obx #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #obx #jj x y/n #jj x reader #jj maybank #jj #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank imagine #john b obx #john b #john b imagine

[possum-rat]

King ophelia

is this nearly 2 months late? yes yes it is.

@king-ophelia 

“If i die im totally haunting your ass”

(Y/n) x C!Sam  Platonic

______________

Mentions of: death, blood,tommy’s prison arc 

There had always been a close Mentor and Student type of bond Between a certain droopy elf-eared green-tinted skinned man and a young kid around the age of 15-16? Some might even say that it was closer, more Father and child-like. So naturally when Awesamdude began distancing himself from everyone while making the prison (Y/n) felt a mixture of anger and slightly guilt. Guilt because it wasn't Sam’s duty to take care of them. Sam had simply shown them Human kindness, and (Y/n) not having many good encounters with people had clutched to the praise that Sam had given on the regular. (Y/n) had only felt angrier and angrier as time passed. Especially when Ponk had stumbled into their small dark oak cottage on the outskirts of what was Pogtopia. His red yellow and black mask burned beyond repair and holding what was left of his arm. Leaping up from the small couch situated in the middle of the small one-floor house (Y/n) turns their attention to Ponk. As they work feverishly whispering that it’ll be okay more to themselves than anything else. That day they realize that the Man that they had admired so much and had tried to please didn't care. ------ “Sam? I made something look!” (Y/n) says happily as they pull the prosthetic arm they had been working on for Ponk. “I'm busy (Y/n), Tommy needs help with something,” Sam states as he brushes past (Y/n) without a thought. “Of course. It’s always Tommy and tubbo this. Why don't you have a second of time for me?” (Y/n) mumbles dejectedly. Shoving the arm back into their bag they grumble annoyed. Eventually, they bump into Foolish. “(Y/n)! Didn't see you there! How are you?” he asks cheerfully crouching into a squat. “I made something for Ponk. I tried showing Sam but he was busy. As always.” They say quietly while fiddling with the hem of the bag. Foolish’s emerald eyes widen in interest. “You did? Can I see?” Nervously they pull a wooden base of an arm armor of the bag before turning their attention to Foolish, (Y/n) smiles shyly up at the man before gently placing the arm in his huge calloused hands. Foolish sits on the ground in front of (Y/n) and turns the arm silently, his jade eyes staring intently at the arm that’s a quarter -if that -the size of his hand. Growing more nervous and agitated at the lack of response (Y/n) a close mentor-student type of bond between Sam and (Y/n). If you were to look closer it might be called a Father/child type of bond. Maybe even Found Family. Always ever since (Y/n) had been younger. (Y/n) had always looked up to him, always trying to be just like him. Horror was the least they felt when Ponk- stumbled into (Y/n’s) small cottage. His arm was bloody in his other arm. His mask torn in places, his hood pulled up pasted his face. To cover the deep cuts. Dropping the book they had been reading: The Book thief, on the couch they spring up and run toward Ponk one line still ringing in their head. “I guess humans like to watch a little destruction. Sand castles, houses of cards, that's where they begin. Their great skill is their capacity to escalate.” The meaning of those words smacks (Y/n) like a truck. Just like how Sam had destroyed (Y/n’s) view on the world, Ruining the one last thing that kept (Y/n’s) view of the parental figure like a parent. It didn't help that (Y/n) was the youngest in the vast land of DreamSmp. Being 12 when they lost their first life jumping in front of Technoblade's fireworks that Schlatt had ordered him to fire at Tubbo. And 13 when they had lost their second life to a forest fire that Niki had started. Niki had apologized of course, but techno. You know how he is. ---- It had been a few weeks after Ponk’s visit, and (Y/n) had been wandering around looking for Sam for some input. Eventually finding him they tap his shoulder and present the Wood and golden ornate hand they had been making during the past 2 weeks. “Sam! Look!” They state excitedly. As they hold out the arm. “That's nice (Y/n). But I'm busy. I need to help Tommy with his hotel.” Sam says as he shrugs (Y/n) off brushing past them. Nodding slowly (Y/n) stands on the prime path before turning and shoving the arm into their bag before walking down the prime path with no particular idea. “Oh- sorry I didn't see you there-” A tall man with bright observant jade green eyes and golden shining olive skin gazes down wearing Egyptian royalty wear with gold, and emerald stitching along the hems of the shendyt. Shifting down he smiles down at (Y/n) his gold ornately patterned Wesekh with lapis emerald and Netherite hangs off his chest while he grins happily. Sharp shark-like teeth gleaming. “(Y/n) right?” he asks as he offers out a huge hand. “Y-Yeah. You're Foolish right?” the man nods causing (Y/n) to breath in deeply the scent of pine filling their nose. (Y/n) gazes at the ground while Foolish asks “May I see the arm you tried showing Sam?” nervously (Y/n) obliges. As Foolish sits on the ground examining the minuscule arm (Y/n) grows agitated at the lack of negative response- well any response. “Sorry- I know. It's stupid and it won't work-” they mutter quietly. “No, no-no. that’s not it at all. Im amazed at the level of detail on the fingers and the knuckles (Y/n).” --------- “Tommy? I can give a note to Dream so you don't have to see him.” (Y/n) states with an undertone of wanting to prove themselves. “No- You're too young-” he begins. “No.” They interrupt loudly. Tommy raises an eyebrow. (Y/n) never really questioned anybody's judgment, they merely followed without question. “I- uh. I want to help. Please.” they continue their voice growing quieter as the sudden jolt of courage dissolves into fear of rejection. Tommy nods a small smile on his face. “Sure. Only if you pinky promise you’ll be safe okay?” ------ As they reach the prison, the anger they had repressed for months begins bubbling up. In addition to anxiety. (Y/n) hadn't really interacted with Dream much. Only briefly when he needed somewhere to hide. And foolishly (Y/n) had let him. As they reach the other end of the portal Sam doesn't look up from the desk he’s sitting at. “Tommy. Kid. I have something for you to sign.” he says tiredly. As he places a book in front of (Y/n). “Read that out loud.” (Y/n) feels a twinge of anger at the nickname Sam had given Tommy. Sam had never taken the time to do that for (Y/n). Taking a deep breath they begin. “Page 1 I HEREBY ASSUME ALL OF THE RISKS OF VISITING THE HOLDING CELL, including by way of example and not limitation, any risks that may arise from negligence or carelessness on the part of the Prison guards, prisoners misbehaving, from dangerous or defective equipment”  (Y/n) read haltingly and slowly sounding out negligence. Sam suddenly glances up and sighs “(Y/n) why are you here. Tommy said he’d be here.” ignoring what sam had asked they continue rambling

“Page 2 or property owned, maintained, or controlled by the Prison Guards. I certify that I waive, release, and discharge the Prison from any and all liability, including but not limited to, death, disability, personal injury, property damage,” they glare at Sam and murmur “you did that to ponk. You hurt him.” they take another breath before continuing:

Page 3 property theft, or actions of any kind which may hereafter occur to me, including my traveling to and from visiting the Prisoner. Written name, then sign: (Y/n)” They sign it and slide the book toward Sam. “(Y/n). Why are you here.” they scoff annoyed and reply “Why else? I'm visiting Dream. I'm telling him something Tommy wanted me to say.” ------------- As (Y/n) reaches the platform they turn toward Sam and state. “Sam. If I die. Then I’m totally haunting your ass.” Sam sighs and retorts “You're not going to die. And stop talking. Face forward.” Nodding (Y/n) turns forward tears forming in their eyes. Gazing up at the ceiling (Y/n) lifts a hand pressing it against their eyes while mentally shouting at themself to not cry. Being in prison wasn't as bad as they thought. Dream seemed nice enough, so he made conversation. “So (Y/n) have you made anything new? I’ve heard that you like making things.” Dream says as he leans against the wall his tone curious. (Y/n) jumps at the opportunity of having someone showing genuine interest in what they enjoy. “Well- I’ve started reading Norse Myths. Those are cool- I also really like- I like uh building things. Like a few weeks ago I made a fake arm for ponk cuz Sam ripped him off.” They state excitedly. Dream nods his mask contorting into a small smile. “Wait-” Dream pauses his mask’s eyebrows contorting into a frown “Did you say Sam ripped off Ponks arm?” (Y/n) freezes the hairs on the back of their neck suddenly standing on end. They laugh awkwardly, alarms blaring internally “What- nooo that's preposterous. Why would Sam do that? I mean Sam loves Ponk.” they blabber nervously as they fiddle with their hands nervously. Suddenly there’s an ear-splitting boom. Causing (Y/n) to freeze in place. ------ About a week has passed since (Y/n) got trapped in the prison. (Y/n) eventually grew more nervous and twitchy whenever Dream so much as looked at them. On the 4th day, they had gotten a cat. (Y/n) had named the calico “Fat Ass” as he was one of the Fattest cats (Y/n) had seen. On the 8th day or so (Y/n) had been trapped Fat Ass had seemed to have enough with everything and committed unalive by walking into the lava. (Y/n) would never forget his pitiful yowls as he burned alive. The ninth day (Y/n) began growing desperate Screaming at the lava for hours on end until their throat grew dry or Dream had yanked them up and tossed them across the small room. As he yelled “(Y/N) SAM DOESN'T CARE. HE’S GOING TO LEAVE YOU HERE TO FUCKING ROT. WHY WON'T THAT GET THROUGH YOUR FUCKING HEAD.” (Y/n) grew silent at that. Playing with the orangy drawstrings of their hoodie. “Okay.” (Y/n) whispers in defeat. “You win. Just stop yelling at me please.” Dream scoffs bending closer to (Y/n) grabbing the collar of their Hoodie. “(Y/n). You're pathetic. I could kill you right now and revive you because I'm bored. I could do that for hours and Sam wouldn't move a damned muscle.” (Y/n’s) (e/c) eyes widen in fear as they whisper “Your lying.” gulping they rasp “You wouldn't. You don't have it in you-” Dream grins. “(Y/n), I’m a GOD.” He Lifts a clenched fist before sending it into their gut. “I can do this as much as I want and you can't do anything about it.” He sends blow after blow. And as he bends closer to (Y/n). They take the chance and grip his ears tightly. Before screaming as loud as they could. “SAM-” As Dream sends another punch to their gut (Y/n) pulls down hard on the ear. Dream squeezes his hands around (Y/n’s) throat. “SAM PLEASE HELP. DAD-” they wail as they kick trying to escape Dream’s grasp as air begins to be a long-lost luxury. “Aw- Are you calling for daddy? He won't come (Y/n). He’s busy.” Those last words are the final words (Y/n) here before everything doubles and shifts into kaleidoscopic colors and shapes, and they take one last half-hearted breath.

(Y/n) wakes up in a calm place. Everything is so...peaceful...weirdly so. As they spin in a circle they see a playground. The cool midnight breeze ruffling (Y/n’s) hair as they skip toward the structure. Not thinking twice (Y/n) sits on one of the swings and begins to kick off. The rocking mixed with the cool breeze of the night and footsteps- wait why were their footsteps… Jumping from the swing at the top of its arch (Y/n) comes crashing down to earth. Wincing at the feeling of their body slamming against the ground. “Hello?” (Y/n) asks quietly. “Dear? Oh my- oh you were so young- Come here let’s have a little chat you and i.” a feminine voice says. (Y/n) tenses up and replies “Can- Could I stay here? On the swings I mean? I- I don't really know- I’m a little scared here- Where am-” the feminine figure comes into sight wearing a flattering simple black dress that throws her elegant features into greater depth. “Oh Honey, Do whatever makes you comfortable okay? You're in well that's hard to explain. But to put it simply, you're dead. I guess this Empty park is yours- what did My husband's son call it? Limbo? You're stuck here while we talk.” (Y/n) freezes tears forming as they sit in front of the woman. “No- I cant- Sam saved- I’m just- I'm dreaming right?” they whimper as they clutch the soft material of their sweatshirt. “Sam- He was- He saved me and I'm just having a nightmare.” (Y/n) whispers to themselves as they rock back and forth. “Here Honey let me help you. You have a bad cut and I don't want it to get infected.” (Y/n) nods slowly and as the gentle touch of the woman’s hand grazes their cheek (Y/n) jerks awake with a start. ------------------------- There had been an alarm. Luckily Sam had been in the prison at the time. As the automated voice says calmly “The Prisoner is displaying violent acts toward the visitor.” Sam’s blood runs cold. “(Y/n)” he gasps as he sprints through a special tunnel he had created in case of an event like this. As he waits for the lava to drain he regrets ignoring (Y/n). As the lava finally drains he can see Dream leaning against a wall, a hand covering his left ear as bloodstains it. While (Y/n) seems to be asleep at his feet. That doesn't help his fears. “Dream. What the hell did you do?” Sam asks quietly as he reaches the halfway point of his destination. Dream turns slowly before reaching down to (Y/n’s) head and turning it where it’s on full display for Sam to see. Bloody, and 2 giant purple hands print upon their throat. Sam Backs up disgust filling his brain. “They wouldn't stop yelling for you. I got annoyed.” dream states simply. Sam backs away in disgust as he crouches down and hoists (Y/n) up. “Sam- D’you know they kept begging for mercy. They shouted and I quote“Sam Please help. Dad” Dream’s tone is mocking as he stretches. “Obviously you failed them as a parent. When they first came in they were so eager to have someone listen to them for once instead of being bossed around.” Dream laughs. “They tried so hard to make you happy or to be proud of them. (Y/n) felt so neglected that they were genuinely excited when me- a prisoner showed interest. That says a lot about them doesn't it Sam.” Sam stares at the floor, his heart beating faster and faster. “Sam- I heard what they said to you before they came in here.” As Sam steps back onto the floating bridge he set’s (Y/n’s) body down and backs up his hands rubbing his face as the Lava begins to return to place. Sam leans on the wall a few feet from the lava covering the entrance of Dream’s holding cell. ----- Phantom(N/n). That's the only thing the ghost remembers. The only name apart from Awesamdude. Phantom(N/N) is pretty sure that Awesamdude isn't their name.  Standing in a small purplish room, where two unfamiliar men stand one cowering under another man with a scar running down his face making his eye white. Tensing up Phantom(N/n) backs up and crutches into a small ball trying to stay out of view. But they were spotted. The man with the scar crutches in front of Phantom(N/n) and smiles offering out a reddish hand. Phantom(N/n) gazes up at him before taking it nervously and avoiding the gaze of the man wearing green while Alive(Y/n)’s voice murmurs to stay away from Dream. The man with the scar has warm hands Phantom(N/n) notices. Glancing up Phantom(N/n) smiles up at the man, as he gently guides the two of them across the bridge. As they reach the other end Phantom(N/n) lets go of the man's hand, noticing then that he has Light brownish feathers coming from the side of his head along with wings coming from his back with dark shiny greens and other colors. “(Y/n)?” he asks as he places his hands on each side of their shoulders. Phantom(N/n) frowns before saying “Oh you're talking about Alive(Y/n), I’m Phantom(N/n)” they smile up at him taking in his injury. Gently raising their hand Phantom(N/n) places a finger on the man’s cheek while frowning. “Does it hurt?” Phantom(N/n) asks their head tilting in concern. Phantom(N/n) removes their hand from his slightly rough scar before turning when a set of footsteps grow louder. As they turn Phantom(N/n) fiddles with the orange drawstrings while they gaze at the shiny slightly refective Blackstone floor. Lowering themself Phantom(N/n) sits on the floor tracing the cool stone tile as the two people talk in hushed hurried tones. Before the man with duck-like feathers suddenly erupts “SAM- THIS IS A CHANCE FOR YOU TO TRY TO REPAIR YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH (Y/N).” The other man Sam retorts his voice shaking “Quackity. (Y/n’s) dea-” Phantom(N/n) looks up at those words. As their eyes meet Sam’s they flick their gaze back to the floor. “I’m not (Y/n). I’m Phantom(N/n).” Phantom(N/n) murmurs quietly while Quackity and Sam continue to argue. As their shouting becomes louder and louder Phantom(N/n) stands up and tries to find an exit. Finding a passageway probably for employees Phantom(N/n) walks through pressing a hand to the wall as they skip through the cold narrow halls. The cool rush of air a pleasant change in contrast to the hot sticky-stale air of the prison cell. The yelling growing fainter Phantom(N/n) feels a breath of air go. On they didn't realize they were holding in. Reaching into their pocket Phantom(N/n) pulls out a soft Bunny. One with orange wool, and a small carrot attached with a thin string. Holding it in their hands Phantom(N/n) stares at it a small smile spreading on their face. An expression of confusion replaces the small smile before the grin returns.“ You’ll be...uh...Your...Pluto. Yeah, you’ll be Pluto.” One of pluto’s shiny black eyes catches the light of something and Phantom(N/n) stiffens as they gaze forward. Slowly turning around Sam stands their Axe in hand. Tensing up Phantom(N/n) says with a huff.“That’s not nice. You shouldn’t point pointy sharp things at people. Someone could get hurt.” Sam frowns before crouching infront of Phantom(N/n) and placing the axe somewhere in his inventory. Smiling in approval Phantom(N/n) shrugs their jacket higher on their shoulder before jumping toward Sam. “Who are the rings for? You and Mr.Quackity both had 2 each. Are you married to two people? Do I get 2 more dads?” The questions roll of Phantom(N/n’s) tongue fast. Sam stands up resting Phantom(N/n) on his hip his left arm securing them to his body. Sam hesitates before nodding. “Yeah.- yeah you do. Do you want to meet them?” the two people walk through the same hall that Phantom(N/n) had walked through. “Mr.Quackity? Who are you married to? Isn’t it the man with the swirly pattern and the other man with the headband?” Quackity nods slowly before muttering. “Something like that. They forgot about me.” Phantom(N/n) doesn't seem to like this information. Squirming in Sam’s grasp Sam gently places them down before they grab Quackity’s hand and smiling up at him “Well We’ll go make them unforget! Come one!” They state firmly as if there were no room for criticism.

#Poss angst #awesamdude #(Y/n) x awesamdude #Platonic #Quackity #Dream smp #ponk x foolish x sam #karlnapity #Dream #tommyinnit

[atruththatyoudeny]

Monthly Reads | December 2020

I haven’t had much time to read much this month but I really enjoyed all these fics. As always, all the love for all the authors. Thank you for making this time brighter ♥

❅ Like a Picture Print by Currier & Ives | armadillosunset | Christmas - fluff - humor - established relationship - 10k “What thrift store clearance bin did you pull that atrocity out of?” Niall wheezes, doubling over from laughing so hard. They all stand there, holding their collective breaths in that moment. Everyone except Niall, whose laughter is the only sound in the entire flat — the entire building, the entire universe at this moment. “Didn’t know we were doing an ugly sweater party this year! Why didn’t anyone tell me?” — Every year, for as long as they’ve been dating, Harry knits his boyfriend, Louis, a sweater. And every year, Harry hopes for a ring on his finger in return. Maybe this is the year Harry finally gets what he wants.

❅ Baby, You're On My List | lovelarry10 | Christmas - fluff - meet cute - pining - kid fic - 17k Harry takes his niece to see Father Christmas, but he doesn't count on meeting the cutest Christmas elf. Taken by the handsome stranger, Harry decides to recruit as many children as he can so he can see him again, and again, and again...

❅ The Ideal Flatmate | Larry_you_know | Christmas - roommates - hate to love - musunderstandings - no smut - 12k Louis shares his flat with the ideal flatmate (or I-F as he often nicknames him). Harry is a bit younger and a bit taller than him. He’s polite and there is nothing to complain about. Harry rarely brings someone over, he isn’t loud, he eats at the table and when he uses the shared area for his crafting projects he always tidies after himself. Harry doesn’t bother Louis and he pays his share in time. The ideal flatmate. The only problem is: Harry hates Louis. This will be very lovely Christmas.

❅ room for your love underneath this tree | we_are_the_same | Christmas - famous/famous - strangers to lovers - fluff - no smut- first meetings - 11k “IwannameetHarryStyles,” Daisy mumbles, and Louis blinks. “What?” “She says she wants to meet Harry Styles.” Phoebe pipes up, and Louis blinks again, absently switches the camera to himself because he knows that his followers will want to catch his baffled expression. “You-” he starts, and then stops himself, because he did tell her she could ask for anything she wanted, and how can he go back on his word and tell her that he doesn’t actually have the power to make that happen? Because Harry Styles is -- he’s next level kind of famous. Louis has two million subscribers on his YouTube, but Harry has eighteen times as many followers on his Twitter alone. He’s had three number one hits in the last year, and his last album had charted at the top spot for a record breaking 27 weeks. He’s a singer, actor and philanthropist, and there is no way in hell that Louis can get him to come meet Daisy for Christmas. So of course he laughs, even if it’s a little bit breathless, and nods at her. “One Harry Styles for Christmas, coming right up.”

❅ Something Carries On | blue_marauder | Christmas- angst - fluff - minor character death - anxiety - strangers to lovers - 18k Louis would do anything to escape the prison of his emotions around the holidays. He would even go so far as to abandon his remaining family members and go on a trip to Greece, seeing as they're better off without his holiday angst anyway. While on his trip, Louis meets a kind and vulnerable stranger who manages to break through his defenses.

❅ blinded by the sparks | wallstracktwo | angst - fluff - smut - 22k "You can’t even keep your lies straight. Mike has the memory of an elephant and can remember every single detail about every single person he’s ever met, so don’t stand there and tell me that he mixed you up with someone else.” He took back Harry’s cigarette. “I saw you exchanging lower chips for higher ones. I saw you counting the cards. There is no fucking way you won seven thousand dollars tonight honestly. And so I will repeat myself — I want in. Fifty-fifty.” Harry was completely taken aback by the stunningly attractive man standing in front of him. He made several attempts to say something — opening and closing his mouth at least twice before he was finally able to string a few words together. “What? No. No way. No. Sorry, but I work alone.” That was the truth too — he had never trusted anyone enough to let them get close, especially when it came to his scamming, so having a partner was completely, utterly out of the question. “Don’t you think you need someone on the…” Louis’ tongue darted out, licking his lips as his eyes flickered to Harry’s mouth, one eyebrow cocking up. “...inside.” Or - Harry is a scammer who drifts from casino to casino. Louis is the new waiter who wants in on the scam.

❅ The Golden Prince | behappyhl | royalty - mistaken identity - strangers to lovers - grief/mourning -19k When He arrives in London, he’s speechless. It’s so different from his little hometown, he can’t help the feeling that it is an unknown planet. Everything is bigger; The streets, the buildings, the stores. The people are always running somewhere, always in a hurry. Harry instantly feels out of place. Or, Harry lives a perfectly normal life until he gets a life changing job opportunity.

❅ somewhere in between | soldouthaz | dom/sub - strangers to lovers - 43k Louis wakes up early. He brushes his teeth and can only stomach a piece of toast for breakfast, dressing quickly and heading for the car. He pulls into the parking lot of the Department of Dominance and Submission just as they’re unlocking the doors. It takes him all of an hour in the uncomfortable chairs to fill out the paperwork to the best and most accurate of his ability, handing it over to the receptionist as soon as he’s finished and wiping his sweaty palms on his business trousers. There’s a high chance that within ten to fifteen business days, Louis will be matched with a dominant. Shit.

❅ tastes like summer, smiles like may | outropeace | a/b/o - historical - hate to love - royalty - arranged marriage - slow burn - unrequited love - angst - 47k “Is this true?” Harry grabbed the beta by the shoulders. “Bryce, where did you hear that?” “There’s rumors going around the castle,” he smirked. “stories about his beauty and his cold attitude. They know he is an omega only because of his scent, but he has never had a heat.” “Do you know what this means?” Bryce smirk grew into a big smile. “He can’t give you an heir.” A cold prince, an alpha with nothing left to lose and a kingdom with a secret.

❅ sweet like honey | falsegoodnight | college/university - roommates - friends to lovers - friends with benefits - amateur porn - minor angst - 33k Weeks of flat shopping with their limited budget with Louis as a librarian aid and Harry as a barista and arguments about whether a balcony or extended bathroom suite were more important (Harry wanted to be able to feel the crisp night’s air and watch the sun set and Louis just wanted to take long bubble baths) led to them stumbling across the perfect fit. A small flat only ten minutes from campus with a cramped but lovely balcony and an included bath. It’s affordable too… well, sort of. But they always manage. Louis picks up more shifts as an aid, adapting a habit of bringing his Psych textbooks and homework with him to finish in between duties, and later his script so he can quietly practice lines with little distraction. Harry also increases his number of shifts at the cafe and valiantly endures the nasty customers who for some reason flock to their establishment like moths to a flame. For a while, it’s enough. - Or, Harry and Louis need money and they find an unconventional solution in the form of PornHub. It’s not supposed to be a big deal.

#fic rec #28th appreciation #monthly reads #completed fics #larry fics #my reads

[writingsbychlo]

blurred lines | dave hodgman

word count; 9237

summary; a few miscommunications almost ruin something that could be phenomenal.

notes; I had this idea, and I really liked it, so i just rolled with it. this is the dave insert for my birthday week celebration/7k follower milestone.

warnings; smut, public sex, car sex.

There weren’t many people that were more popular than Jane and her group of friends. They were like high school elites, and yet there was always that even more exclusive tier, those who were for all intents and purposes, teen royalty.

As he was saying, there weren’t many people more popular than the likes of Jane, Stanwyck and Brianna. However, Dave could without a doubt say that (Y/N) (Y/L/N) was.

She had more likes on just one of her Instagram posts than that of all of Dave’s posts combined. If he added the combined sum of Big C’s and Simon’s, they’d probably still fall short, even collectively. There wasn’t a student or teacher that disliked her. She was well known not only in his own school, but in others too. Even Aubrey knew of her and liked her, and that was saying something, because Aubrey had a twisted sense of importance and political standing in every view of it.

That was why Dave couldn’t quite understand exactly how he’d gotten himself into this position.

Well, that’s a lie. He knew exactly how he got himself into this dreadfully embarrassing position, that would likely ruin not only the remaining months of his senior social life, but was so colossal that it may well actually follow him to college, too.

See, it had all started three days ago, a Monday lunch-time just like any other, as he sat pouting into his basket of curly fries as Simon once again scrolled through Aubrey’s latest uploaded pictures on Instagram with her new boyfriend and shaming him in an attempt to feel better. Dave was fine, he’d moved on, truly, but Simon clearly hadn’t, and needed his own closure on the situation.

It soon followed with “so David, which of all the lovely ladies in this school are you going to take to the dance, because you have two tickets, a dashing suit, and I refuse to let you waste them,” which had prompted Dave to snort a laugh, and make a joke about asking the heartbreaker (Y/N) (Y/L/N) dance, since he had nothing else to lose.

Apparently, he’d still had a shred of dignity, which was curling up and dying with every second that passes him by, but back to how this all came to be;

Unfortunately for him, his ‘good friend’ Jane had passed by at exactly that moment, and had been just thrilled at the prospect of him finally asking out the girl he’d “been pining over so long I thought you were going to turn into Ryan Gosling and rebuild he a house out in the country after hanging from a Ferris wheel”, which still left a bitter taste in his mouth, because how had the girl picked up in his pining for you, but never once picked up on the feelings he’d once held for her?

Despite that, a collection of kids Dave wasn’t confident in the names of but often followed Jane around had seated themselves at their table, and Jane - in all her innocence and confusion - was excitedly telling them about how Dave was finally going to ask out his crush.

That was exactly how he found himself here, almost two days later, feeling all pairs the eyes in the more-crowded-than-usual corridors as he leaned against your locker and tried to look as casual as possible as he waited for you, as though it wasn’t scaring him shitless and making him sweat like a sinner in church. He pulled at the collar of his shirt with one finger, trying to distract himself from all the people watching and whispering, waiting to see if Dave Hodgman could, in fact, score (Y/N) (Y/L/N), or if more likely, he was going to be rejected in a pile of flaming shame and the crumbling of what shredded remains he had left of his dignity.

“Hey, Dave.”

He felt like a moron. A moron that had been looking the wrong way down the corridor and now you were standing behind him, leaning back with a small laugh to avoid being hit when he spun around to face you with such speeds that his own head was spinning. “Hey! Hi! Hello!”

He cringed visibly at his ridiculous greeting, the confidence he’d held was slipping from him with every passing second, and you did a better job of avoiding the lingering gazes in the halls than he was, you barely seemed to notice them as you allowed him to step out of the way of your locker so that you could swap out your books, but he supposed you were used to it. “I’ve been waiting to talk to you, there are some rumours flying around.”

He wished he could hate the way you were teasing him, but he couldn't. It was playful, not mocking, and you were offering him such a friendly smile and making him feel comfortable once again, and he just couldn't find it within himself to dislike any part of you. “Yeah, I had a question for you..”

“You had a question for me?”

“I suspect you already know what it is” His shoulders sagged, he felt himself giving up, the stress and pressure were just too much, but he at least wanted to be able to walk away with dignity after his inevitable rejection, he didn’t want to be seen running through the halls in order to escape your soft voice trying to let him down gently.

“Will you say it anyway?”

He fixed you with a studious gaze, unsure as to what your angle was, but gave you a stiff nod anyway, and hooked his thumbs through the straps of his backpack as he stood tall. “I was wondering if you’d like to go to the ‘Night In Vegas’ dance with me? As my date. Y’know.. um.. yeah.”

“I’d love to.”

He gaped at you - blinking once, twice, three times - before his face was splitting in a grin, and he cleared his throat. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Woah.” You seemed to find amusement in his reaction, and you pulled his hand up to you and plucked a pen out of your bag, uncapping the lid with your teeth and moving the nib towards his skin, beginning to write down your number. “God, I was so nervous, and now I feel stupid. Nobody thought I would get you, not even me, and all these people are here an-”

“Get me?” Your pen had stilled on his skin, and he looked back at you, shrugging his shoulders as your face seemed to take on a neutral expression, unreadable as you watched him.

“Yeah. You’re like.. really popular, and pretty, and just way out of my league. Nobody really thought you’d go for me because it’s normally the other guys you want. Guess I’m proving everyone wrong.” Your expression flickered with something he couldn’t quite understand, but you were soon offering him a polite smile and finishing your number, dropping his hand again and tucking your pen back into your bag.

You stepped back from him, letting out a small sigh and glancing around everybody that was gathered around you, not-so-subtly listening in on the conversation. “Okay, well, text me. We can sort out details. I have to go, but we’ll chat soon?”

He nodded his head moving before he could control it, and he watched you walk away with a small grin on your lips. “For sure! I’ll text, soon! See you later!”

“See’ya, Dave.”

The weeks between the day he’d asked you and going to the dance had been filled with texts at night and flirty smiles in the corridors, and Dave couldn't be more excited as he pulled on his suit. It was odd, he thought he’d clicked with Aubrey more than he’d ever click with anyone, and yet even from the simple things he’d managed to learn about you during your conversations, he felt more of a bond with you than he ever had with anyone else.

You were like an enigma, you were a little bit confusing and you often ran him in circles, but he liked trying to work you out, as if knowing you was the prize at the end of a challenging puzzle. He told you as much as he could about himself, wanting to share everything he could with you. He had felt awkward and slightly robotic in the way he went about his conversations with you, to begin with, simple texts to ask you how your day was and what you were up to, but soon enough it had resorted to one of you starting a conversation with you about anything. The jokes on the back of biscuit wrappers, something that had happened in his day, movies on the TV or even just to complain.

The two of you would sometimes even be found talking in the corridors, sharing laughs and jokes, and he found himself falling for you a little more with each passing day. He was all but buzzing with both nerves and excitement, brushing his open palms down and over his tux jacket, Stella tugging on his pants as she whined for attention, but he was too nervous and too busy to play barbies with her right now, and she just wanted him to do the deeper voices of the only male one she owned when he made his rare appearance at ‘the dreamhouse’.  

A flower in a box sat on the shelf under his mirror, his fingertips still a little sticky with the gel he’d used to style his hair, and so he didn’t want to touch the corsage yet and smear it with the substance. He’d planned or get ready early, his plan to pick you up at eight was not going to be ruined because he lost track of time in the shower and ended up being late. He had one chance, and he didn’t want to fuck it up. Now, though, it seemed he was ready a little too early, because he was stuck with a good thirty-minute wait before the earliest acceptable time to come and get you would roll around, and he had nothing else to fill his time with.

He was dressed, and ready. Clean and freshly styled and just enough of his special occasion aftershave spritzed on his skin to be alluring but no overwhelming.

Okay, maybe he had a little bit of time to play barbie dolls with Stella.

With fingers tapping on the steering wheel, he peered up at the driveway to your house, watching as the clock ticked over onto 7 PM, and he let out the breath he was holding, letting the smile that had been pulling on his features finally come free, as he slipped his phone out of his pocket, a finger under his collar to tug it loose for a second as he pulled up the string of messages the two of you had been exchanging.

hey cutie. i’m outside.

The little speech bubble at the bottom of the screen danced for a few minutes, the nail of his thumb caught between his teeth as he waited for you to respond, but soon it just disappeared. He waited, and waited, and soon five minutes had passed and he was beginning to worry for what was happening, the thoughts that this all may just be an elaborate joke was slipping into his mind when your front door opened, closing only a second later as you came walking down the driveway with a smile on your face.

He hurried from his seat, rushing up to meet you with the corsage in his hands, and you paused upon seeing it, before your eyes were finding his, wide and wondering as you closed the gap between you until you were standing right in front of him.

“Is that for me?”

“Yeah! Yeah.. you said you were wearing a gold dress, and I couldn't find a gold flower, so I got a white one, but it does have a cute little tassel on it that matches the fringe-tassel thing you have going on and-” He cut himself off with a series of stutters and breath sighs when you kissed his cheek, your thumb coming up a second later to clear away the red lipstick print you’d left on his skin from the freshly applied coat that was still a little wet. “I could have come up and met you, at the door. Do you want me to meet your parents, o-”

“It’s good, Dave, really. Let’s just go have fun, okay?”

He swallowed, glancing between your gaze and the front door, before giving it up and nodding, cracking the box open to present you with the flower to put on your wrist. “Sure, I can’t wait.”

He held the door for you, held your hand as you stepped into the car, and made sure you were settled before he got in on his own side. He was determined to be the perfect gentleman. This was his one shot to prove to you how good the two of you could be together, and he wasn’t willing to mess it up. When he got into his own seat and clipped his safety belt in, you were fiddling with the dials on the dashboard and tinkering with the radio channels, switching over to the CD he had in, and his cheeks flared a little as you looked over the back of the CD case at the songs. “You mind if I pick the music?”

“Knock yourself out, babe, whatever you want.”

You nodded offering him a wide grin as he set the car off into motion, and he peeled away from the sidewalk outside your house to head toward the school. It was a short drive, but he couldn’t help but notice every little thing you did that only made you seem more like a regular person to him, and not like someone who was miles and miles out of his league, it made him feel calmer, like this wasn’t all just some big and elaborate prank that was the punchline of, but instead like he was here with a pretty date to have a great evening.

Your fingers tapped along on your leg in time with the tune, the conversation flowing easily between the two of you, and before he knew it, he was pulling up in the back of the somewhat crowded parking lot, trying to find a space that wasn’t too close to the crowds gathering around the doors, and you were brushing your dress down and stepping out the car, grinning as you looked between him and doors.

Shooting a quick text to Simon and Big-C to let them know that he was here, he tucked the device into his pocket, offering his arm to you and grinning when you accepted it. His friends met the pair of you at the door, and this was the nervous moment he’d been waiting for.

Simon was quiet for all of two seconds, before he was smirking widely and holding his hand out to introduce himself, the slew of comments neither of you would be able to avoid all night beginning to pour from him without hesitation; “Simon Daldry. You look absolutely ravishing tonight, far better than Aubrey ever did, you really traded up, Davie-boy.”

“Don’t call me that, and don’t talk about Aubrey.”

“No, Davie-boy, do spill. Who’s Aubrey?” You turned to him, a teasing look on your face and he sighed, raising his eyebrows at him, his eyes flicking down to your hands when he felt your fingers slide down his arm and lace with his, squeezing encouragingly. You were telling him that it was okay, that he didn’t have to share if he didn’t want to, but you were staring at him intently and still giving him that look that was giving him the confidence to be by your side all night, and so he caved.

Instead of voicing his history himself, though, he turned to give Simon a pointed look, and Big-C clapped him on the shoulder as the shortest boy all but vibrated with glee at the chance to tell you the story.

“Aubrey is our dear boy’s ex-girlfriend. She wasn’t very nice, we didn’t like her very much.” Dave dropped his head back with a groan as his friend took the chance to throw some insults into the conversation and he squeezed his hand around ours to draw back your attention, cutting Simon off as the boy took a breath to start off on yet another rant;

‘How about we go and get our picture taken, yeah? I’ve seen some of the photos on Snapchat already, and they're pretty good. They really went all out; neon signs, props like the strip attractions, there’s even a red carpet.”

“A red carpet? Well, how could we resist?”

He guided you along, your heels carrying you at closer to his height and your strides wider as you expertly balanced in the shoes, thanking him when he held the door open, your jaw dropping form the second you stepped inside with the small group. The bass was beating through the floors and the music was loud, even from the main entrance, the hall holding the dance still a small walk away, and anticipation filled his body.

He may or may not be a sucker for school dances.

The room was decorated with dice, cards, flashing banners and shiny decorations with bright lights. Black, red and white hung from all of the walls, and everything screamed Sin City extravagance, but had been toned down to high school appropriate. The usual red solo cups that were always brought in for the punch and drinks had been swapped out for plastic champagne and martini glasses, which definitely looked funny being filled with the non-alcoholic and red fruit-punch, but it was a fun thought nonetheless, and he was impressed by how quickly it had all come together, being that none of it had been up when they’d been ins school earlier that day.

The flashes of the camera set up in the corner snapped him out from his wonder, and he looked over to find you in much the same way, and he leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as you looked around. “Wanna’ take pictures?”

You nodded vehemently, the two of you making your way over to the setup, and bursting out with laughter at what you saw. Big-C was accompanying Simon, who had clearly manoeuvred him into a slightly less than formal dance photo pose. The pair of them were recreating the famous Titanic pose, the one of Jack and Rose at the front of the ship as she insisted that she was flying, and neither of you could contain your laughter as you watched on.

“Simon looks like he’s having the time of your life, but your other friend looks like he’d rather actually be on the ship as it sank.”

“Simon is insane, and I’m really not sure how Big-C put’s up with him.” He shrugged, allowing you to drag him into the queue for photos taken, the words you were running a mile a minute about different poses you could do were going in one ear and out of the other, because he didn’t care what pose you dragged him into, however formal or informal, because he was shocked by how seamlessly you were fitting into his friendship group, and how his friends had known you for less than ten minutes but already seemed to like you ten times more than they ever did his ex.

By the time your turn to take photos had come around, he hadn't heard a single one of your ideas for pictures to take, and simply let himself be guided by the photographer. He found himself standing behind you, hands sitting on your stomach as his arms wrapped around your waist, your own fingers lacing through his own. The first one was a formal shot, the sort of one his mother would have taken of the two of you had she met you, and he knew she’d love it when he presented it to her. In fact, she might actually frame it. He did look good tonight.

The second was a little more playful, his head was tipped up and chin balanced on the top of your head as he beamed at the camera, holding you a little tighter and pinching at your side, prompting your face to screw up and a laugh to bubble up from you as he did, and the final one featured him leaning around you, the tip of his nose brushing your skin as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. It was more you than him, his face was mostly obscured by his position and all that could be seen was his arms, legs and the top of his head, but he knew it would be his favourite simply based on the was your cheeks had been tinted red and your eyes glistening when he looked at you after hearing the ‘click’ of the camera taking the photo.

“They’re going to be cute photos.”

The pair of you were hurried off of the platform, and took your hand in his once again, the four of you walking along the halls, following the music as it got louder and louder, and he twisted his head to face you, a smirk on his lips and his eyes dragging along you, head to toe. “That’s because there’s a cute girl in them.”

“Dave, that was shocking. Appalling, actually. How the fuck did you get someone as out of you league as her to go out with you when you have lines like that?”

He felt his face blank into boredom as he looked over at Simon, but you simply laughed, pulling him through the open doors and telling him not to mind it, because you thought it was sweet, and your reassurance was enough to give him confidence on his statement one again. Bodies filled the room, some on the dance floor, some milling around the food tables, others sitting at tables and filling the seats.

Lifting your joined hands up, he spun you in a twirl, a surprised sound leaving you before you were giggling, his brows wiggling suggestively as he brought your hand to his mouth and kissed your knuckles. “Let’s start with a dance, yeah?”

You had danced, the two of you swirling around on the dance floor until your legs were aching and you were gasping for a drink. Some songs were upbeat, and these were the songs that the two of you busted out your best moves for, limbs flying in all directions as you cracked up with laughter upon watching the other move, and your hair flew around, pink coating both of your cheeks as the blood rushed underneath, heat flashing around you until you were slumped against one another and holding yourselves up, using your intertwined body for support as you gasped for breath and tried to calm your hearts as tears pushed at your eyes from laughing so much.

Then there were the slower songs, your cheek pressed to his shoulder, or your temple resting just below his as you leaned into him. His arms were around your waist, or his hands in yours, and your own fingers were looped around his shoulders, fingers in the shorter hair at the base of his neck and your nails scratching at the skin softly, lulling him into a feeling of peace so serene that his eyes were fluttering shut, his breathing levelling out, and he realised he could definitely get used to it. He liked being able to hold you so close, and being able to feel you pressed up to his chest, your lips almost brushing on the times you'd look up to talk to him and let your forehead press to his own as you mumbled quiet words of calm chatter between you both.

There were also the more sensual songs, the ones that had too much bass and sliding notes to be a slow song, and it was with those songs that Dave found himself suffering the most, his eyes closing and jaw dropping open, hands gripping your body tightly. Your body would roll into his, your ass pressed to him when you turned in his arms and your body swaying with his own, never stopping him when he dragged his hands over your body, never too much for the public eye but more than enough to get the two of you worked up, and you never flinched away when he began to pepper the bare skin of your shoulder with light kisses and the occasional flick of his tongue against your skin.

By the time the two of you had collapsed in your seats, you had thanked him with a kiss on his cheek when he brought you punch, and you’d pulled your chair up so close to his that your thighs were pressed together, your body facing his and elbow sitting on the back of his chair, fingers once again in his hair and playing with that sweet pattern that made his whole body sag with relaxation.

He’d leaned into you, barely getting a chance to enjoy the feeling of the quiet and intimate moment, the two of you feeling more like a couple than he had ever felt when he was with Aubrey. You simply enjoyed his presence, and you made him feel calm. He wasn’t nervous and sweaty and on edge when he was with you, the way she had made him feel was so entirely different that he couldn't even compare the two of you, because you were unique, nothing like anyone he’d ever met before.

Simon had soon interrupted you both, a deck of cards in his hands as he insisted that you played him in poker, and he pressed a kiss to the palm of your hand as you turned away to face him as he dealt up. The two of you were teamed up, and you had ended up in his lap, balanced across one of his legs as his chin popped on your shoulder, arms tightly around your waist to hold your back to his chest as you held the cards.

Not only had you won the game, but you’d done the whole thing while never once caving to Simon’s trash talk, meeting him with it and raising the stakes until him and Big-C were simply watching on as the two of you playfully slated one another, goading the other to break their poker face as you played, and Simon had even offered you a shake of his hand upon winning, and it was the most sportsmanly thing he’d ever seen his friend do. He was normally such a sore loser, but maybe that’s just because it was you that he’d lost to.

The feeling that he was waiting for the ball to drop, that there was something coming around the corner or a big joke waiting to be unveiled was gone, because you were so clearly enjoying yourself that it wasn’t possible to be able to fake that kind of joy. He was having one of the nights of his life, the flickering of the lights, the beat of the music in the floor, the taste of the fruit-punch hanging on his lips and the feel of you in his arms. You had managed to convince him into taking pictures, the two of you wandering around the room to take selfies with all the fun props and displays, wanting to truly capture the Vegas theme in all its flashy entirety.

His favourite one had to be the picture of you posing under a replication of the famous sign. ‘Welcome to the Fabulous Las Vegas, Nevada’ was sparkling above your head as you looked up at it, your hands held out on either side in a way that made it look like you were holding up the sign, in the same way that tourists took pictures that made it look like they were leaning on the Eiffel Tower or holding up the tower of Pisa. It was cheesy, and he loved it, because you were so carefree and happy in the shot.

Being with you made his social anxiety melt away, your own carefree attitude washed over him and it sunk into him, taking it on himself. The lingering gazes and whispers never bothered him, or made him wonder. He managed to let it all go, because his only focus was you.

As the night went on, the pair of you were getting warmer and warmer, fanning yourselves with your hands as the sweaty bodies in the room rose the heat up, and you had only hesitated for a moment when he offered you a walk outside, sighing with what he assumed to be relief, before nodding and lacing your fingers with his as he guided you back out into the cool night, the sky dark now and the stars twinkling overhead.

There were far fewer people now, a few boys lingering on the other side of the field, clouds of smoke rising up around them with no surprise as to what they were doing, but the car park was empty, and your hands swung between you both as you walked along in comfortable silence around the outskirts of the cars. It was halfway around when he finally pulled you to a stop, pushing down the butterflies that were going wild in his stomach, and raising a hand up to cup your cheek, thumb smoothing over your skin delicately.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? You’re absolutely stunning.” his words were breathed out on a sigh, and your lips flicked up at the corners.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Hodgman.” He tilted your chin up a little more, watching the way your eyes darkened, and his jaw dropped when he felt your fingers hook into his belt loops, and tug his body towards your own, hips pressing together. Swallowing thickly, he dragged his eyes back up to yours, taking a quick inhale of breath as his eyes got stuck on the way your plump lower lip was caught between your teeth, seductive in ways he couldn't even fathom. “Are you going to do what you’ve been wanting to do all night, or not?”

“Fuck, yeah, I am.” With that, his mouth was descending onto your own, heavy and wet as his wet lips meshed with your own. He could taste the lipstick you wore, and the slightly sticky fruit punch residue in your mouth, the flavour of which only increased when your lips parted for him and your tongue dipped out to find his own.

It was needy and hot, and raw in a way that made his head spin, and one of his hands came up to lace in your hair as he backed you up into the streetlamp only a few feet away, your back arching into him as your skin met the cold metal, and the sound you made in your shock went straight to his groin. It was sweet and low, a little groan that was crossed with a whimper, and your hips were rolling up into his.

His other hand slipped down and around your waist, past your lower back until he was taking a handful of your ass in his palm, squeezing roughly at the flesh and this time, you both let out moans at the feeling. Your bodies were flush now, the heat from inside was back, like a raging fire between your bodies as you rutted against one another, pulling back for gasping breaths before diving back into one another’s mouths once again. Your lipstick was smeared around your mouth and his own, your hair was messy from the pretty style it had been in at the beginning of the night, and you were a picture-perfect mess, the sort of sight he wanted or wake up to, or fall asleep by after a long night of holding you close to him and showing you how much you meant to him.

It wasn’t love, far from it, but the spark that he thought could turn into so much more had never been brighter, it had never felt this good, and he found himself sinking into your bliss with every rock of your bodies and every drag of your lips over his, every sweet noise to meet his ears or every moan he made that you muffled with your own mouth. It was getting heavy, and you showed no signs of stopping and he didn’t want to, but he also didn’t want to get caught with your legs around his waist as he fucked you against a metal pole, because the way you were now grinding down onto his thigh was very clear, and he was only seconds away from pulling down the spaghetti straps of your dress to see whether or not you actually had a bra on underneath your clothing.

“We should.. um.. move. Car? I think we should go to the car.” He barely managed to get his words out, but you were pushing him away from the post, hands tight in the collar of his suit jacket as you tore your lips from his, looking around for the vehicle, and his mouth descended to your neck, licking and kissing along your skin. You seemed to find it, because only a moment later you were pushing him in that direction, his feet moving underneath him and your hand rifling through his pockets for the keys, before his back was meeting cold metal this time, and he hissed out at the feeling.

He forced himself to remove his hand from your ass, fumbling for the handle when he heard the car sound it’s unlocking, and when he finally managed to wrench it open, he was quickly being pushed into the driver's seat, the keys tossed carelessly onto the dashboard and his hands reaching to push the chair back as far as it could go as your own reached for the lever to flatten the seat back.

Suddenly, he was laying down, the door slamming as you straddled him in the vehicle, hair framing his face as your lips met yours once again, and now he was able to get both hands on your ass, and had his mouth not been so deliciously otherwise occupied, he would have been smirking as he groped at the fleshy mounds in bliss. The windows were fogging up, the tent in his pants pressing to your clit each time he thrust his hips up to meet your movements, and his cock twitching in his pants with every squeaky moan you let out, and every breathy moan of his name that sounded out.

Pulling away for only a second, his lips were still pouted, but his jaw soon dropped open when you pushed away the straps of your dress, the flimsy material falling away to pool at your waist, you breasts on full display to him, bouncing as you rocked down into him, and nipples perky and pointed out for him, skin showing a thin layer of goosebumps with your arousal showing clearly.

His question had been answered; you were not wearing a bra. He fucking knew it.

Dragging his palms up and over your smooth skin, he cupped your tits in his hands, the rough pads of his thumbs teasing over your nipples, and an entirely new sound left you, one that had his gut twisting with desire, and a primal urge raring up within him. You pushed your chest up into his hands, your head falling back and your own hands finding his wrists, holding his touch on your body as you rode yourself down onto him, the two of you nearing you peaks, even with the layers of clothing between you, and it took every ounce of self-control he had to still your hips atop him.

“Baby, as much as I love what you’re doing, if you keep it up then I’ll cum and the fun will be over.” His voice was hoarse, even to himself, and you took a steady breath of your own, leaning down to place a softer and gentler kiss to his lips, pulling his bottom lip with your teeth when you shifted away from him.

“Better put the condom on and put that cock to use then, huh?”

His eyes widened, spluttering falling from him, before he shut himself up by snapping his jaw shut and nodding quickly, sitting up with you in his lap and searching for his wallet in his jacket pocket. While he was up, he took the opportunity to shove the material down his shoulders, discarding the blazer to the back seat and popping the button on the front of the leather pouch, rifling through and praying against all known gods that he had replaced the condom in his wallet, only barely managing to contain the cheer of joy he wanted to let out when he found it.

The cards and that note were of no concern to him, instead, he was dropping that to focus on the silver packet he was holding in his hands, a low groan slipping from him as he watched your own fingers dip under the black panties he was only now catching sight of, the digits disappearing from his vision. Your head fell forward a split second later, your foreheads pressing together as you whined his name under your breath, fucking yourself down onto your fingers to the thought of him, and he’d never gotten his belt and pants undone faster.

The car was steamy and hot, windows fogged over to block any sights from outside, and now it was just the two of you, in a bubble of your own making as you barrelled quickly towards the very activities that Dave had been dreaming about since he’d first caught sight of you in Freshman year.

Finally dragging his cock free from its confines, he grinned happily to himself, pumping his already hard cock a few times, before using his teeth to help him tear open the wrapper and roll the rubber down over his shaft.

“Holy fuck, you’re amazing. So fucking hot.”

You flashed your teeth at him in a wicked grin, your hand coming over to take control of his, your fingers slick with your own juices, and he hadn't realised just how wet you were, but now as you were pulling your panties to the side and lining him up with your core, he could feel the heat of your entrance as the tip of his covered cock dragged through your folds. He felt as though he was panting like a dog, drooling and clenching his fingers beside his body, before he was lifting them up to sit on your hips, taking control as you erased him by pulling you down in one swift movement.

You sunk all the way along him, both of your eyes rolling in your head and your body shaking above him as he became fully sheathed in your warmth, and he worried that he was gripping you so tightly it may bruise you. His thighs were clenched and his head was pressing back into the cushions of the reclined seat, letting out a shuddering breath as he tried not to explode just from the feeling of being buried in your dripping cunt.

“Oh my God, Dave!”

“I know.” His words were wheezed out, a playful look on your face as the two of you took your second to adjust, but that seemed to shatter as the look you shared darkened, and only a moment later you were rolling your hips down into him. It started out slow, a series of simple and steady movements that were almost mechanic, the rise and fall of your hips as you moved up and down along his cock, slowly as you grew used to the position and the movements you could make within the car.

Once you had grown comfortable, you were spicing up your actions, slamming yourself down onto him with quick and rapid movements, and then slowing it down to tease him, rolling the muscles in your stomach and clenching yourself so tightly around him that he almost choked on his own tongue, his eyes crossing and hips bucking up into you desperately. He couldn't take it, the way you would drag him to the edge only to let him come back down, but he loved it, because you were with him, riding him in his car after having an amazing night, and he couldn't get enough of the way it felt to be completely and utterly surrounded by you.

You were taking over his every sense, everything he has was given over in surrender, because he was barely holding on at all.

Your lips brushed his, and your movements became weaker, less coordinated and more frantic as you chased your own high as well as his. Taking one of his hands in your own shakily, you folded his fingers away until only two remained, and he watched through hooded eyes and you sucked his long fingers into your mouth with swollen lips, warm and wet just like your pussy, your cheeks tightening around his digits as you soaked them with your spit. Your tongue lapped around his fingers, dipping and weaving between the digits and dips with precision that would be haunting his mind and filling his wet dreams for weeks, as well as the permanently burned-in feeling of your warmth around his cock.

Dragging the slick digits down your body, you lifted up the edge of your skirt and pushed the pads of his fingers up to your swollen and neglected clit, and he took the hint, taking control of his limb again and picking up the pace. Pushing down roughly on the button, he traced his name in jerky and needy movements, a possessive act that he took pride in, rubbing his name on the nub and only making it as far as the ‘O’ on his last name before you were exploding around him.

Your eyes were rolling back in your head, nails digging into his chest through the dress shirt covering his chest, and he arched up into the touch, your orgasm spurring on his own. Your mouth pressed to his, lips working slowly and tongue seven slower, simply dragging over the top of one another’s and tangled together in sloppy patterns as you muffled the cried of each other’s names and moaned out curses, prolonging one another’s orgasms until it was all too much to handle.

When you finally peeled yourself off of his cock and collapsed down into the seat beside him, you had a lazy smile on your face, your body slumping into the passenger seat, and he forced his seat back up into a sitting position Peeling the condom off of his cock and tying it off, hiding it in a handful of tissues that were left on his dash, he placed it in the cupholder to dispose of later, and tucked himself back into his pants, his mind still spinning from the events and his thoughts still swimming with only you, in his post-orgasmic bliss.

He undid the tie around his neck, popping a few buttons on his shirt to allow himself to breathe, and once he knew you’d adjusted your dress and cover yourself back up again, he rolled down the windows to air out the heat in the car.

“So, you can just drop me off at home now, then.”

His head whipped around to look at you, only you weren’t looking at him, you were looking at yourself in the mirror and wiping at the lipstick around your mouth, cleaning your skin up and removing any trace of the kisses he’d left on you, and the sight of you doing so made him rub at his own mouth the back of his hand, wiping away the red smudges on his skin. “What are you talking about?”

“Now that we’re done, y’know? You got me, you got your notch on your belt or whatever, and this night really has been an absolute blast, but I would love nothing more than a nice hot bath and some pasta, now.” He was speechless, he really didn’t know what to say, because right now there was a bitter taste taking over his mouth as he thought about the night, storm clouds coming in as your words settled over him.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

He knew he had all but spat the words at you, and he was angered by the audacity on your face to look shocked by the anger in his tone when you finally let your eyes meet his, a light shrug on your shoulders, before you picked up the keys and handed them to him, and he didn’t even look down at his palm as the cold metal met his skin. “Hey, don’t worry. I wanted to be here, I said yes to the dance and I initiated this. A lot of guys try it, want to sleep with me for the popularity boost or cool guy badge or whatever, and I think it’s dumb but you seemed so sad and nervous in the halls, and I figured, why not? You’re really cute, I like you.”

Rage swelled within him and he felt tears sting at his eyes as he let out a breathless laugh, before starting up the car and shaking his head, peeling out of the parking lot in silence. It wasn’t until the two of you had hit the main roads that he spoke over the dull playing of the radio once again. “What, so I was just a pity-fuck for you? Some kind of project, the whole night was a lie?”

“What? No!” Your hand landed on his bicep, but he shrugged you off, never even looking over at you as he flicked his way through the roads, nearing your house as he drove as quickly as the speed limits would possibly allow him to, not wanting to draw out the journey any longer than it needed to be. “I had fun tonight, I told you that!”

“You had fun on a date that I thought was real, and you thought was just something to fill the time with while you were bored?”

“I never said that!”

“Sure.” He sighed, flicking on his indicators as the two of you entered at the top end of your neighbourhood, and he heard you make a distressed little sound beside him, and even though it made his own body fill with sadness and regret, he was still angry, too angry to even consider letting those secondary emotions take over.

“Why don’t we just talk about this, I think mayb-”

“No. Why don’t we just finish this journey in silence, yeah?” He let his gaze flicker over to you for only a second, before he was looking back at the road, swallowing thickly to push down the way seeing you upset expression had made him feel. You did as he requested, and the rest of the ride was filled with tense and awkward silence, and neither of you spoke again until the car was coming to a halt outside of your house.

This time, he didn’t try to be a gentleman. He didn’t get out of his seat and open the door for you, and the evening routine he’d planned of walking you up to the door and hoping against all odds that maybe you’d kiss him was completely dashed, his newly fog-cleared mind full of regret for how fast things had advanced between the two of you, disappointment filling every nook and pore in his body.

You opened your own door, climbing from the car and walking away, the quiet click of your heels on the tiles was all that was heard, and he watched you go, eyes scanning up over you as you stopped in your place, turning and taking a breath as you prepared yourself to speak, but he cut you off before you got a chance; “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about tonight. Despite the impression you seem to have of me, I just wanted to go to a dance.”

Your face seemed to crumple in on yourself, your arms wrapping around your body, and he squeezed his hands on the steering wheel tighter, resisting the urge to rush from the car and pull you in close to him. “I-I..” Your voice cracked, like you were going to cry, and he felt his resolve crumbling, his fingers reaching for the handle of his door as you continued on, cleaning your throat. “I was just going to say thank you, I had a really great time with you, at the dance.”

He didn’t get a chance to speak, to ask you what had happened or why you’d ever thought of him like that, before you were turning on your heel, a near-run as you carried yourself up the driveway, slipping into your house and slamming the door shut. He didn’t have time to think about it or dwell on the thought because soon he was on the road, completely confused and a little bit heartbroken, and just wanting to curl up in his own bed.

Dave was walking at his locker, swapping out the books for his next class and keeping his head low, ignoring all the congratulatory pats on the back and hoots or hollers he had been receiving. It seemed that being with you had been a real boost for his popularity, because guys that have always believed themselves to be too good to talk to him were now stopping him in the corridors to start up conversations, and girls who had never looked in his direction were now batting their eyelashes and waving their fingers flirtily.

He didn’t care for any of it, but Simon was eating it all up as you went along.

He had barely gotten his fingers out of the way of the door when it slammed shut, his body jumping backwards and eyes widening, before he was turning to look at you, his shoulders slumping even further and he removed his bag from his shoulders, distracting himself with packing his bag, waiting for you to shot, or yell, or publicly tear him down. Whatever it was that you needed.

“You said it wrong. You are terrible with words.”

“Excuse me?” A flicker of anger shot through him, and he zipped up his bag with more force than was needed, swinging it up onto one arm and letting it hang there, wiping a hand over his face to calm his feelings before he turned back to you. “I was never anything but polite to you.”

“I know. But when you first asked me out, you said nobody thought you could ‘get me’. You made me sound like a prize to be won, like a notch on your belt. Do you have any idea how many guys try to ‘get me’ just to prove that they can?”

He shuffled from foot to foot, glancing around at the few pairs of eyes that had landed on you all, before a sigh on his lips helped him from his next words. “I didn’t want that, I never did. I just wanted to go to the dance with you.”

“Do you like me?”

“What?”

“Do you like me? In a real way, not a popularity-boost, make it a game, prove to people who looked down on your way.” You were vulnerable as you looked up at him, eyes wide and expression flickering every so often as you tried to appear strong, and his head tipped to the side before he could stop it, a small smile on his lips as he let his eyes scan over you, before he was looping a couple of his fingers loosely with your own.

“I really do, for a while now, actually.” Heat crawled up his cheeks at the confession, but you were giving him a grin wider than the sun, holding onto his hand a little more tightly, weaving your fingers through his until your palms were pressed tightly to one another.

“Do you want to go on a date, then? A real date. Like, to a restaurant or mini-golf, or something.”

He used his other hands to tuck some loose hair behind your ear, risking taking a step closer to you, until you were forced or look up at him as he stepped into your space, only having to whisper as he spoke to you now, the conversation only for the two of you to hear. “I would love that.”

“Okay. Cool.”

“Cool.” His own smile finally matched your own, feeling his heartbeat steadily in his chest as you seemed to relax before him, your defensive stance slipping away, and for a second, you weren’t the popular girl that had always seemed out of his league and too scary to talk to, but right now you were just the pretty girl that he had a connection with like no other. “Can I kiss you in front of other people?”

“I’d really like it if you did.”

His other hand settled itself over your cheek, pulling your lips up to meet his so that he could press his mouth to yours in a sweet connection. It was nothing like the previous night had been. Last night was rushed and sloppy and just a preemptive action towards what the night had become. There was no ulterior motive or further action to be taken now, though. Instead, it was simply a brush of lips, it was the only thing either of you needed, it was an act of reassurance in order to make sure the spark between you wasn’t being ignored.

Your other hand threaded into his hair, your body pressing to his as you pushed up on your tiptoes, being sure he wasn’t pulling away or moving from you, and he let his arm drop to wrap around your waist to support you, to keep your body pressed flush to his your thumbs played together and smoothed over one another’s knuckles with the hands that were still connected. Your lips teased his, the occasional flick of a tongue through the smiles but never enough to go any further, and you were refusing to pull away, until the burn for oxygen was just too much to ignore.

Your forehead pressed or his, a satisfied and happy noise sounding in the back of your throat as you bumped your nose against his, and he let out a breathless laugh, bumping his nose against yours in return, a grin forming on your lips at the gesture. When you finally sunk back down to your height and were no longer balancing on your tiptoes, he was able to press a kiss to your forehead, before your hand was pulling from his to loop around his waist, letting you snuggle into his chest and rest your cheek on his shoulder.

“I really like you, Dave Hodgman.’

“I really like you, too.”

#dave hodgman #dave hodgeman #dave smut #dave/reader #dave x reader smut #dave hodgman/reader #dave hodgman x reader #dylan obrien #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien the first time #dylan obrien imagine #dylan obrien fic #dylan obrien x reader #dylan obrien x reader smut #dylan obrien/reader #dylan obrien/reader smut #dylan obrien dave hodgman

[lycanthrop-ee]

Sires and Sons (ON HIATUS)

Chapter 1 of ?

Next chapter

A/N: YALL. I’ve been trying to figure out if I should finish this before posting the first chapter, but I’m honestly so pumped- this is my first even multi-chapter fanfic! Like,,, EVER. So anyway, it’s my birthday today and I do what I want, so without further ado- HERE WE GO. 

Synopsis: When the twins split two years ago, Janus was tasked with raising Remus. His only help was the evasive and sullen Virgil- who he already had to wrangle like a stray teenager. The endless days in the Dark Side’s Mindpalace were broken only by monthly catch-ups with Patton, and the only thing that ever changed the stories that Janus used to get Remus to bed. This time, though, something was different: secrets were slipping through Janus’ lips- and past the divide between Dark and Light. 

Ships: Moceit (probably just bg but I don’t actually know can you tell I’m a professional-)

Word count: 1312

Janus still remembered the day Patton came to the door, two little boys walking along behind him on the twisting path from the Dark Mindscape to the Light. He’d explained the situation and nudged a clumsy four-year-old towards him, clad in green, and that was the end of it- there was nothing to argue. As he’d taken the child by the shoulder and gently ushered him through the black door to where he’d be raised, the tiny child never once turned his head to watch where he was going. He simply kept his eyes set on his twin over his shoulder, standing confused at Patton’s feet, until the door had closed between them.

That was the last Remus had seen of Roman, but Patton had made a habit of knocking on the door every few months. Janus would put the kid under Virgil’s watch (never a good idea, but what else could he do) under the pretense of a ‘Work Meeting’. They’d follow a winding trail through the Imagination and just talk. About the twins, sure, but Janus also picked up a lot about Patton’s life. He’d grown to enjoy their meetings, and found the tales of the other sides flowing through his mind long after each encounter. 

One late night when Remus was hopped up on sugar and newly learned swear words that could be attributed completely to Virgil, Jan was pulling his hair out trying to get the tiny side to sleep. He suddenly sat up, earning a new sigh from his caretaker.

“Tell me a story!” 

Janus smiled softly, reminded of the kid’s secret brother- adventurous, brave Prince Roman, as the Light Sides had taken to calling him. In any case, a quick tale had never failed him in the past- and the stories of the others still bounced around his skull. So Janus sat Remus on his bed, settling across from him.

“Once upon a time,” he started, smiling as Remus stuck out his tongue. 

“Boring!”

“Just let me start, Remus. Once upon a time, there was a royal advisor. He knew all there was to know in the whole land of…” Janus wracked his brain before sighing and turning to Remus. “Looking for a name?” 

The six year old smiled. “Assvile.”

“Remus. We aren’t calling it-”

“Shit City. Bitchtown. Fuckopolis.”

“Remus!” Janus scolded, hiding a smile.

“The Light Side.” Remus’ face had grown serious, and he looked soberly at Janus.

“Remus-” He started the sentence as an automatic sigh.. And then he heard what the young side had said. His eyes widened, and he scanned Remus’ face- had Virgil told him more than he should have? But the mushy-cheeked child’s face was earnest and interested. “The Light Side?”

Remus nodded quietly, and Janus felt a pang under his ribs. His eyebrows furrowed.

“The Light Side. The poet knew everything to be known in the entirety of The Light Side, and was hailed across the city for his sharp tongue and serious eyes. He was known for his sobriety, sure, but those closest to him- the… the king he advised and the princes under his feet, and the royal pâtissier-” Janus smiled- “They all knew him to be kind. They saw it in his fleeting and smothered smiles, or even the rare grin to be won.” Remus settled into the story, and Janus tucked him under his blanket. The younger side did have one question, one that lead further into the tale:

“What’s a patisser?”

“Pâtissier- he’s a baker. The royal baker, and there’s more about him next.”

“The royal pâtissier was one of the advisor’s closest friends. He was the nicest man in the land, a friend to anyone willing to extend him a kind hand. His baking was… questionable, really, but they needed some front to keep him around- he brought the mood of the whole castle up in the darkest of times, and he was the caretaker of the youngest princes. His cookies were exceptional, as well, leading to his official role.”

Janus searched for signs of sleep on Remus’ face, but his eyes peered up the blankets, pleading for more to the story. Janus continued begrudgingly- he agreed that keeping the twins a secret from each other was the easiest way to keep all the sides in their proper places, but there had always been something in him that had yearned to introduce the two, to see how their personalities clashed and complimented, to watch them interact with someone their own age. And so he pressed on.

“The two youngest princes were twins. One’s name was Romulous, a courageous young boy with a knack for sparring. He was imaginative and robust, and loved stories with happy endings. He dreamed of beautiful roses and handsome adventurers, of slaying beasts and saving kingdoms…” 

And, to Janus’ surprise and relief, Remus was drifting off. 

“Promise…” He yawned. “Promise to tell me more later?”

Janus wanted to tease Remus for liking the story he’d started off mocking, but he didn’t want to get the six-year-old riled up again.

“Sure, Remus. Goodnight.” Janus shook his head gently to clear it, running his hands over his eyes as he stood. He made his way softly to the door, emerging into the kitchen, where Virgil was sitting on the counter with a butter knife, a jar of peanut butter, and a box of graham crackers. It seemed he’d meant to eat the crackers with peanut butter spread on them, but had deteriorated to eating straight peanut butter with a knife. Janus sighed.

“Virgil, could you use a spoon for that? You’re giving me anxiety.” 

“I’m giving you anxiety?” Virgil snorted as he hopped off the counter. Even as he mocked Janus, he was screwing the top back on the jar and putting the knife in the sink with a clatter. “Is the kid asleep?” 

Jan nodded, taking the graham crackers from Virgil and reopening them before he got the chance to put them away. He looked around the room lit dimly by the light over the oven. “Its only 10, Virgil. You can turn on a light.” 

The anxious side shrugged; 

“I could.”

Janus sighed and flipped the light on himself. Virgil looked as though he was only contemplating actually washing his knife before he spoke. “So…how was it?”

“It?”

“Patton. Your-” he motioned quotation marks around the phrase- “Work Meeting?”

“Oh.” He thought of the day spent wandering the sunny forest, Patton towing an adorable but somewhat impractical picnic basket, full of luke-warm sandwiches and a conspicuously commercial bottle of apple juice. “It was… nice.” Janus picked his words carefully, although he wasn’t sure what he was trying to hide. Virgil smirked.

“Did you have a lovely little sunlit picnic?” 

Janus snorted. “Would it surprise you in any way if I said yes?” He took out a stack of crackers before closing the box and returning them to their cabinet.

“Not in the slightest,” Virgil sighed. “How’s the kid? The.. Other. Kid.” He hesitated for the first time that night, his voice lowered.

“Same as ever. They’ve been taking him further into the Imagination, so, as usual, we have to be careful about when we bring Remus out.” Janus yawned, ending the conversation with a “Night, Virgil,” and pulling out a few crackers before shoving the sleeve back into the cabinet hap-hazardly.

By way of a goodbye, Virgil waved halfheartedly. Janus walked the short hallway to his room and sat on his black-sheeted bed. He rubbed his eyes, head in his hands, and let out a deep breath, putting the snack aside. His reading glasses stared at him from his night stand, and he finally slid them on before shuffling into his tiny bathroom.

The glasses made him look old.

And not particularly villainous.

He went to the bathroom, washed his hands in cool water, and quickly washed his scaly ace. The Dark Side’s Mindpalace had no windows. It was a questionable design, if on-brand. It increased the risk of mold growth. It made the feeling of being trapped so much more potent. It also meant that each time Janus closed his eyes he couldn’t help picturing the gorgeous green trails and the white sunbeams of the forests… as if anything could erase that from his mind’s eye. It made Virgil, Remus, and him all pale as shit, while the tan glow of the others’ showed in their equally bright faces. Janus wasn’t even sure if it was a metaphysical glow- it honestly could have just been the effect of extra Vitamin D. All things considered, Janus’ room was about as gloomy as the rest of the Mindpalace. Not as many frills as Virgil’s or the Others’. He did have a pet snake, but that was more by design than a choice of his- nevertheless, he’d named it Missy, and dutifully fed it every two weeks. 

Today was not a feeding day. Today had been a Patton day, and in the Mindscape there was only ever one Thing per day.

If that. 

Things had gotten boring very quickly before Remus came around.

Janus brushed his teeth, no longer hungry, made a couple notes on the pad next to his bed, and fell asleep to brightly-colored thoughts of the Others as long-ago royalty.

#AHHHH Y A LL #ive wanted to post this for so long i stg #im gonna hate myself for posting this when i end up actually having to write the rest but- #worth it #ive still got a couple chapters backed up so ITS FINE RIGHT #anyway back to your normally scheduled tags #fanfiction #fanfic #tss fanfic #tss fanfiction #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #janus sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #moceit #six-year-old!remus #six year old remus #six year old!remus #child!remus #child!creatwins #child!roman #the dark sides #sires and sons #multichapter fic #elis writing tag

[glacecakes]

Wisdom Teeth Really Hold Your Braincells

Posting my other Varigo oneshot here since the other two did so well on tumblr :) And since this one is shorter the whole thing is under read more! 

I am also now taking Varigo fic requests! 

Hugo gets his wisdom teeth out and lets a few secrets slip. Modern day AU.

-

“Ok, the doctor’s all finished.”

Varian looked up from his phone to see the nurse smiling kindly. Her scrubs were slightly rumpled as she gestured for Varian to follow her back to the operating room.

“It went off without a hitch, and since his insurance covers wisdom tooth removal, you’re free to leave.” She opened the door, but turned to face him before she opened it fully. “Just so you know, he’s on laughing gas, so he’s… acting a little funky.”

Varian laughed sheepishly. “Yea, I figured. Did he give you any trouble?” It was hell just to get his boyfriend here. Hugo had been fortunate(?) enough to not need his wisdom teeth out as a teen, but as an adult Hugo had to admit they were troubling him. He’d tried to hide it at first, brushing off Varian’s concerns, but eventually he’d been in pain at all hours of the day, and that was enough for Varian to schedule the surgery despite his boyfriend’s protests.

The man refused to admit when he needed help, damn him.

“Not at all,” The nurse responded. “One of the best behaved patients we had in awhile.” She looked like she was trying not to laugh. Varian stepped into the room to see the dentist cleaning up, and sitting in the chair was a very sad Hugo.

“Hugo?” He called, and Hugo looked up at him like a kicked puppy. Varian could count on one hand the amount of times he’d seen his boyfriend cry, so this was a concerning development. “Babe, are you ok? What hurts?” He rushed over to his side. Hugo sniffed miserably.

“I miss Varian,” he mumbled through the gauze. “I miss hiiiiiiim!” He moaned, sliding down in the chair. The dentist stifled a laugh.

Varian blinked a few times. He… missed him? “Hugh, I’m right here,” He laughed nervously, though slightly flattered. Hugo frowned, turning to Varian as if he didn’t recognize him. Then, his face lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Babe!” He attempted to stand, but the way he slid down the chair made it difficult. He nearly toppled to the floor before Varian helped him stand up. “You’re here! You’re really here!” He cheered, wrapping himself around Varian with an air-tight grip.

“Of course I am. I drove you here.”

“You did? You’re so thoughtful!”

Varian looked pleadingly at the nurse, who was clearly amused. “Was he like this the whole time?” He asked numbly.

The nurse grinned. “Nah, he wasn’t sad until the very end. Anytime we stopped working he was talking about you, though. You must be very lucky.” Varian’s cheeks flushed red as Hugo attempted to kiss his cheek, only to be stopped by the fact that his mouth was numb.

“I’m the lucky one,” Hugo mumbled, opting to bury his face into Varian’s neck instead. The shorter man couldn’t help but feel slightly overwhelmed. Hugo never acted like this normally; sure, he’d flirt and compliment Varian to high heavens, but he was never the type for mushy-gushy over-the-top proclamations of love. It just wasn’t their thing. So to see Hugo clingy and docile as a lamb all while spouting his undying love for his boyfriend, it was a little jarring. All Varian could think to do was shush him as they exited the dentist’s with instructions for the next few days.

-

“Varian, can we get McDonalds?” Hugo asked as soon as they got in the car. That was another thing. He kept calling Varian by his full name. No Var, or hummingbird, or Hairstripe, or any of the other dozens of nicknames he liked to give him. And the way he said it was like addressing royalty, with a fond reverence in every syllable. Hugo fumbled slightly with his seat belt, but otherwise was ok. He wiggled slightly as he spoke.

“Sorry babe, no solid foods for a bit. Doctor’s orders.”

“Fuck doctors! What do they know?”

“A lot.” Varian grumbled as he turned out of the office. He sighed. “If you won’t listen to the doctors will you listen to me?” He glanced over to see Hugo staring at him.

“I’d die for you.”

“That’s slightly concerning.”

“I mean it,” Hugo leaned over to rest his head on Varian’s shoulder. Varian shrugged him off, since it wasn’t safe. “I would betray my mom for you!”

“Ok, random . Where did you get that from?”

“That book series you like. Flynn’s partner betrays his mom to help him enter the Eternal Library in book 7.”

Varian looked over in shock, nearly missing the green light. “You read those?”

“They make you so happy, I read them when you go to sleep so I can follow you when you talk.” Hugo responded dutifully. That was new. Hugo usually made fun of him for liking a kid’s book, yet he still took the time to learn about it for Varian. A warm feeling fluttered around in his stomach. God damn did he love that guy.

Eyes misting up slightly, he turned back to the road. “What other things are you keeping from me?” He asked, mostly joking.

Hugo frowned, thinking for a moment. He prodded his chin in thought, ignoring Varian’s remarks to not aggravate his injuries. His face lit up as the car entered their apartment complex’s parking lot. “Oh yeah! I bought a ring last week!”

Varian nearly swerved into a post. He parked at record speed, and it was probably the worst parking job he’d ever done. But that didn’t matter. He shut off the car before looking over at Hugo in absolute shock, eyes bugging out of his head.

Hugo looked serene, eyes full of warmth as he stared right back. The scene would’ve been hilarious, his lovestruck expression coupled with his cheeks puffed up from bloody gauze. But Varian didn’t care about that. He cared about what Hugo had just said.

“When. When you say ring,” Varian struggled to find the words. “Do you mean, ring for… for me … or, like a gift?”

Hugo held up a finger in a wait gesture, digging into his pocket. With a little “tada”, he produced a small box for Varian to take. He did, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s a gift!” Hugo lit up, grinning a bloody grin at his boyfriend. Varian let out a sigh of relief.

“For you.” He opened the box to reveal a gold ring embedded with a small emerald, cut into the shape of a square, not unlike a diamond.

Varian slumped over, hitting the steering wheel. Of course. Of fucking course . Hugo remained oblivious to Varian’s panic, now trying to fight his way out of the seatbelt.

Hugo was going to propose to him.

Hugo was going to propose to him .

It shouldn’t surprise Varian, in all honesty. They’d been living together for… gosh, 2 years now? And they’d been dating at least another year. It wasn’t like this was too out of the blue, they’d talked about it before. Hugo had admitted he didn’t want to get married when he was younger. He’d been tossed around a lot as a kid, he’d said. Lost a lot of faith in government institutions. Varian didn’t blame him; he’d had a similar phase when his dad was hospitalized. He had promised Hugo that they’d go at their own pace, and if they never got officially married, it didn’t bother him. They had each other, and that was what mattered.

Not that Varian didn’t want it! Quite the opposite. He just… never thought it would happen. He always figured that if they did get married, it’d be a spur of the moment elopement. Or that Varian would propose when Hugo said he was ready.

But Hugo was ready, and he wanted it badly enough that he was going to propose… Varian let out a hysterical laugh.

“Varian…” Hugo whined, still fighting the seatbelt.

Varian let out a wet laugh, wiping away the tears that were pooling in his eyes. “Yeah, I got you,” He said.

-

Hugo felt like death.

He groaned miserably, rolling over on the couch, hoping to see Varian beside him in the other chair. Alas, that was not the case. The sun was high in the sky, meaning either he was hungover and slept in a ridiculous amount, or he’d laid down for a nap and lost all sense of self.

It was probably the latter. His teeth throbbed in pain.

Right, dentist.

“Babe?” Varian called from somewhere in the house. “Are you awake?”

“Barely,” Hugo grumbled, wiping his eyes and reaching for his glasses on the counter. His world came into focus as Varian rounded the corner and into Hugo’s field of view. “Gah. Why did I let you talk me into this?”

“Because the pain is gonna start to go away,” Varian responded, sitting down on the couch beside him. He held up a glass of water and painkillers for Hugo to take. “There’s ice cream in the fridge if you want it.”

Hugo sighed in thanks, reaching over to take the items. As he took the glass of water, he noticed something gleaming on Varian’s outstretched hand. Something very familiar. He nearly dropped the glass in shock.

Reaching out with his other hand, he flipped over Varian’s to see his ring staring back at him. Mind racing, his horrified eyes met Varian’s sheepish ones.

Oh shit.

Hugo dropped the glass onto the table, before groaning and burying his head in his hands. “ Please tell me I didn’t propose while high on pain meds.” God, just kill him now.

“You didn’t propose, you just… gave me the ring,” Varian responded, patting Hugo’s back in sympathy.

“That’s even worse!”

“I can give it back?”

“What, no! You put it on, no take backs!”

“You didn’t even ask!” Varian was trying not to laugh now. Hugo looked up from his hands to see his eyes shining. Well, might as well make this incredibly corny. He got up from the couch, rounding the side to face Varian, and dramatically dropped to one knee. He nearly fell over, but managed to maintain his balance.

Hugo cleared his throat. “Sir Varian, son of Quirin-”

“I have a last name.”

“Fine. Sir Varian Ruddiger, son of Quirin,”

“And Ulla!”

“Let me finish!”

Varian was openly laughing now, and it was infectious. The two giggled, Hugo clutching his boyfriend for support.

“Would you,” he straightened back up. “Give me the honor , the glory , the privilege , of contributing to a corrupt industry and bankrupting ourselves to prove that we love each other?”

“How romantic,” Varian deadpanned, face giving away his true feelings. “But yes, I will marry you.”

Hugo couldn’t help it; he was too excited. He grabbed Varian, sweeping him up into an embrace. He buried his face into Varian’s hair, breathing in his scent. He’d get to do this for the rest of his life! Letting go, he lowered his head to kiss Varian…

Only for Varian to stop him with a hand.

“I love you, but I’m not kissing you, Mr. Blood Mouth.”

“Wait shit, am I still bleeding?”

#tangled #varian #tangled the series #varigo #varian and the seven kingdoms au #varian and the seven kingdoms #hugo the human #tts #tts varian

[anoceaninthesun]

Needs Improvement

Thanks largely to a brilliant suggestion by @shineejeya the Home Improvement AU continues with this ficlet (mini-series ??). This time the renovating teams tackle their toughest assignment yet. If only it was all about the house and not the feisty, beautiful client.

Summary: When Yamanaka Ino meddles in her best friend’s love life quest to DIY renovate her new fixer-upper, Haruno Sakura finds herself caught up in a home improvement competition between four handsome, creative questionably qualified renovators.  

(Home Improvement AU, Modern AU, Slice-of-Life AU)

Pairings: FoundersxSaku (IzuSaku, TobiSaku, MadaSaku, HashiSaku), ShikaIno, other background pairs

Rating: T

Genre(s): Romance, Comedy, General

Warnings: none really—except maybe swearing, atrocious flirting skills and the Founders being renovating crackheads (not literally, but almost)

Pt. 1, Pt.2 

Sakura had her doubts about Ino’s intentions from the moment she showed up dressed so...expensively. The season’s latest denim cut off jacket, glittering top, a perfectly pleated skirt she’d seen in an upscale boutique they went to together, and boots easily worth someone’s paycheck. Granted, her friend had been a fashionista and trendsetter since they were kids.

 But, when Ino called the night before claiming it had been too long since they’d hung out and she wanted to do a quiet, girl’s-day-in, she’d agreed. So maybe the pinkette had brought whatever was coming onto herself. She hadn’t thought much of it when the blonde said she’d swing by.

 It wasn’t really done, boxes barely unpacked and some rooms still without fresh coats of paint, but it was slowly coming along. Buying her first home at only twenty-two was a big deal, all the years of frugal spending and careful saving, of building credit and working hard culminating in such a huge achievement. 

She was so proud of herself, and determined to turn the house into the home of her dreams, one weekend at a time. “Do you want a soda or water?” she called from the kitchen. 

She could see Ino on her couch with her thumbs flying over her phone screen, not paying any attention to the movie playing. “Smoothie.” she responded, absently. 

“That’s not even one of the choices I just offered!” Sakura huffed. 

“Don’t be an ungracious hostess, Sakura.” Ino laughed.

The doorbell chimed, and Sakura went to the fridge and fished out two bottles of water. She raised a suspicious brow when Ino ran to get it before she could so much as ask. Sakura knew she wasn’t expecting anyone else over, but her friends sometimes popped up when they knew she was free (which was sadly less than ever as of late). 

Taking the water and setting the two bottles down on the coffee table, Sakura wandered into the mudroom, peering out the window. She took a startled step back, blinking at the cars parked in her driveway and on the other side of the street. Was that...a camera crew? “What the hell?” she whispered. “Ino!” She stomped to the front door, only to find her friend bouncing around, happy sounds leaving her mouth as four incredibly attractive men stepped into her home. And yes, a flood of people with cameras coming in too. 

“Hi!” Ino waved with both hands. “Thank you so much for choosing this house! I can’t believe you’re here,” she tucked a loose lock of hair behind one ear and then moved forward to shake the first man’s hand. 

Sakura caught herself doing a double take. He looked so much like her childhood friend Sasuke it wasn’t even funny. More like Sasuke than his own older brother did, and she had always thought that their resemblance was pretty strong.

 The only real noticeable differences she could spot was his longer hair (hair which stuck up messily the same way Sasuke’s tended to) hanging down his back when he turned.

 His lips also looked fuller, and she and Naruto had always reluctantly agreed Sasuke had lips to die for. Their eyes met from over Ino’s shoulder and Sakura felt her heart seize up for half a beat, averting her eyes. He smiled politely, stepping back from Ino so she could continue conversing with the strange group of people. 

“So this is the house?” A white-haired man rumbled, his sharp, red eyes drinking in every detail. His unyielding facial expression made it hard to determine whatever thoughts were running to his head. Until his head bobbed once, evidently satisfied. “It’s got good bones.” 

Good bones. Sakura had thought the same thing when she’d seen it, and that’s what had prompted her to put a considerable amount of her savings into buying it. That, and maybe a tiny splash of idealism. The location, the rooms, the cute (if not somewhat overgrown) backyard...

“You’re Yamanaka Ino, right? The friend who wrote in?” The next man who spoke brought her right out of her idyllic visions. He was huge, with a beautifully bronzed skin tone, a voice that exuded warmth, and a flannel shirt stretched over a broad chest. He shook Ino’s hand, her whole arm bouncing with his strength, “Is the home owner around?” 

“Sure is! She’s right,” Ino half turned and her eyes immediately found Sakura, who had been frozen there the entire time. “Right there!”

Just like that, any illusion of invisibility she had was ripped away, and Sakura stood exposed. The cameras were zooming in, taking in her wide eyes, ghostly pallor and everyday clothes. 

“Haruno Sakura?” The man approaching her had a voice that felt like it punched the wind from her lungs, knocking her sideways. He shifted some of his long hair aside and smirked slightly, catching her reaction. She took the hand he offered and shook it, because she wasn’t really sure what else she could do. “I assume you know why we’re here?”

“Bad assumption,” she croaked. “This wasn’t what...I don’t know why...have I seen you somewhere before?” 

The role reversal was abrupt. His cocky grin melted into a thin line as his brow arched and he retracted his hand. “You...You haven’t seen the show?”

“No.” Sakura responded, almost challengingly.

The Sasuke-Look-Alike approached with a softer expression, but it did nothing for her nerves. He was just as overwhelming up close as the man she shook hands with.

“We were contacted to renovate a home, your home. As part of a new episode of our show, From House to Home. I’m Uchiha Izuna, and that’s my charming brother—”

“Madara.” Madara introduced himself with pride, as if he had the title of royalty attached to his name. They really were Sasuke’s relatives! Ones she’d never met, and she thought she had met a good deal of his extended family.

Apparently not wanting to be left out, the man with the large presence and abundance of energy came over, his eyes merry even before the genuine grin pulled his mouth up. “I’m Senju Hashirama, and I’m excited to work with you. We’ll get your dream home complete in no time.” Tugging the solemn man to his side and placing an arm around his shoulders, he waited.

“Senju Tobirama.” he said, his tone no more ‘excited’ than his face.

Sakura blinked once, wondering why a brain that could memorize the names for all the bones in a human body with ease had so much difficulty processing this. “Nice to meet you all.” she said slowly. Her eyes darted back to the camera crew still filming. She worried her face was going to look clammy on film. Would they edit out the awkward parts at least?

“So, Ino-san’s told us a little bit, but it’d be great if we could go over what you’re looking for.” Izuna urged.

Figuring it was too late to turn back (although she owed Ino one hell of a scolding for blindsiding her), Sakura nodded. “I’ll show you around.”

______________________________________________________________

Ino flitted around like a dragonfly that couldn’t decide where to land. Sakura did her best not to break into a sweat over the pack of handsome men following her around from room to room. She had plenty of male friends.

Attractive male friends, even. But there was a hot flame at the back of her neck from the gazes tracking her that just wasn’t there when she was around her boys. The crush she’d once had on Sasuke for that awkward period when they were younger, notwithstanding.

“A more open kitchen?” Hashirama repeated. He pulled out a tablet and began fumbling with it, biting his lip briefly. Sighing loudly, Tobirama yanked it from his hand, pointedly turning it so it was no longer upside down, and began tapping.

Sakura smiled slightly. Though they were apparently something like celebrities in the world of home improvement, they gave off a very difference impression in real life. On the other hand, exactly how competent were these men?

“It’d be nice if she could have a bigger island bar. You know, for get togethers with our friends.” Ino put in, standing at one corner of the room.

For all the helpful advice she had, the renovators probably thought Ino lived with her.

“We’ve definitely done some very fun island bars before.” The older Senju said. “Remember the project with the tropical fish tank built in?” He nudged at his brother, who grimaced.

“Your ideas are somehow always even bigger than the clients.” Tobirama grumbled.

Madara wondered over to her humble stove area, examining it. Then her second-hand fridge and microwave. “These appliances are outdated. Anything new we put in would clash.” Sakura took offense to his disdainful expression. It wasn’t easy to afford a house on her budget and spring for brand new kitchenware and appliances.

“It works fine.” Sakura explained, teeth grinding. Who did this man, who probably drove around in a car the same price as the down payment on her house, think he was? To demonstrate, she brushed by his taller frame and turned on one of the eyelets of the stove. A flame sputtered to life. “Plus,” she added, putting on her syrupiest voice, “I know seasoned renovators like yourselves can work around any minor inconveniences the house has.” Madara stared at it, then her, saying nothing else.

Sakura happened to catch the shrewd carmine eyes of Tobirama, noticing how they were lit with mild amusement.

“Without a doubt!” Hashirama agreed, “So Madara, you’ll take responsibility for the kitchen area?”

Crossing his arms, the older Uchiha made a noise reminiscent of reluctant agreeance. Sakura had been friends with Sasuke for a long enough period to decode most vague noises and gestures in an Uchiha’s standard repertoire.

That was without a doubt, “challenge accepted.” ______________________________________________________________

So far, the job ahead didn’t make him feel as miserable as Tobirama had been expecting. Despite the strange newness of the situation, Haruno Sakura didn’t seem like an unreasonable client. They were currently surveying her unfenced backyard, no one more eager to talk about plans for it than Hashirama. “The great thing about how unstructured this space is right now, is that you could do almost anything with it and not worry about taking anything out first. A fence is a definite, but how do you feel about a greenstone garden?”

Sakura contemplated, a slow smile curling her lips as her best friend barely contained a squeal. “Well, I did say whenever I got my own place I’d try my hand at something like that.” 

Happy that she was on board, she and Hashirama began to talk shop, with Ino interjecting, apparently a gardening fanatic herself. Tobirama let them chat, busy watching Madara scope out the yard, presumably to see how he’d implement his own project. When he wasn’t doing that, he was boring holes into the side of the client’s head. She had to feel it. 

It was starting to agitate him a little, and he wasn’t even the focus of the man’s gaze. Ever since the little display of sass in the kitchen – something Tobirama thoroughly appreciated since quite a few clients were too busy fawning to put Madara in his place–it was hard to tell if the older of the Uchiha brothers wanted to one up them or impress Sakura. More than likely both.

“I don’t think I’d want to splurge on anything like a pool,” Sakura was shaking her head. “But it’d be nice to have something entertaining...”

“A firepit.” Izuna said instantly. “We can do one right off the patio if you want.” He took out his own tablet and showed her a three dimensional construct of what it would look like. 

Sakura leaned in, her face approving. “Oh!” Without even seeming to realize it, she gently tugged it from his hands and tapped. “Are these the different designs? I really like this one.” 

The camera shifted to show what her choice had been. Though Tobirama found the Uchiha’s penchant for firepits entirely unoriginal from a design perspective, the one Sakura liked would unfortunately be very nice surrounded by Hashirama’s horticultural touches.

 Izuna was certainly proud of himself for suggesting it, much less openly smug than his brother. But...too pleased nonetheless. In fact, he had been stealing interested looks at Sakura nearly as often as Madara. 

As they moved back into the house, Hashirama and the women in front, the younger Senju traded a very loaded look with the dark-haired brothers.That probably wasn’t going to make the final cut. The show liked to capitalize on a “friendly” if not overly-competitive rivalry, but the venomous sneers they gifted each other were far past it. 

They were all supposed to be alright with a collaboration for the sake of Sakura’s dream reno. He just had the niggling suspicion that wasn’t the only thing on their minds. Deny all they wanted, the Uchiha Team tended to shine best when the client was young, female and single. Sakura was at least two out of three things thus far. 

At the very least, she wasn’t acting besotted. That was a welcome change. She also seemed financially conscious, which was something else Tobirama appreciated after so long doing budgeting on these projects. A lot of clients didn’t truly understand how that portion of project management worked.

 Though, with how surprised she was by the whole affair, he wondered if she even knew an anonymous source had put up a very generous amount to cover the renovation.

 Sakura could have two identical houses and triple the square footage if she really wanted it. And it wasn’t beneath Madara to use that knowledge and some sex appeal to coerce someone in the pinkette’s position to let him take control of a project like this one.   

Tobirama wasn’t about to let the opposing team break ahead. The time would come shortly for him to speak with Sakura, and when they had that meeting of the minds, he would convince her that an economical reno was the way to go.  

______________________________________________________________

It took a lot longer than anticipated but here’s part two. The beginning of the SakuraxFounders interactions! I usually do slow burn, but at the same time this isn’t going to be super long, so romance may happen quicker than usual. I think this is looking more and more like it may become a mini-series (a handful of these little chapters probably), which I have never done on tumblr. Fingers crossed I figure it out. If you’re looking for more FounderxSakura fun from me, and there’s a chance you haven’t seen my oversaturated advertisement for it, you can check out: A Stitch in Time.

#sakura haruno #foundersxsakura #konoha founders #needs improvement #madara uchiha #izuna uchiha #hashirama senju #tobirama senju #ino yamanaka #sakura is already done #tobirama’s getting there #madara should maybe keep his shirt on #sakura might splash bacon grease his way if he crosses her #hashirama never sticks to the budget #madasaku #tobisaku #izusaku #hashisaku

[queakenstein]

Mama Queaky ! :D Could you do a Hw Zelink or OOT Zelink (either one is fine) where Zelda is struggling with trust issues from a rumor & Link is reassuring her ?

Hey, my little baby Anon! ‘course I can! (also, I have no idea if I’m correct about how old horses should be before they “retire” so feel free to educate me because I did like a quick 5 second google) 

Also, also: Let me know if this is too long for ya’ll’s dashes. I can pop a read more on it to help.

______________

The whispers and rumors that swirl around any group can always be an interesting mix when it comes to romance. Especially, when in particular tiers of royalty. Zelda has learned to disregard them and, in some cases, to use them for her advantage should she need to. She has learned there is almost always a kernel of truth to even the most blown out of proportion secret. The Queen ignores the unnecessary information but the temptation to dive into the world of words orbiting around your own life can prove difficult.

“Your Highness is everything all right?” A young girl, new to the staff, asks as she picks up the tray of tea mostly untouched. She shuffles with nervousness and averts her pretty, brown eyes to the floor. “I’m sorry to ask but... I’ve heard... rumors.”

Zelda lifts an eyebrows and smiles, gently. “Birds like to twitter around and sing. Pay them no mind.” She closes the book she was reading, an old tome brought home by her favorite green clad knight, and sighs. “Thank you for your concern though.”

The girl nods and turns to leave but pauses. “It doesn’t bother you... though?” She seems torn between speaking so casually to the regent but the curiosity overcomes any desire to be quiet. Zelda’s familiar with the rather informal relationship she has with her ‘servants’. It’s something that she worked hard to achieve. “I don’t know that I could stand having anyone talk about me like that... I-In fact, I know I can’t...” Her hands grip the tray hard enough Zelda is a little shocked to see the white of her knuckles.

“Is there something you would like to say?” She urges, softly. Clearly, this was something that truly was bothering the young woman. “Or is there something I can help with?”

She wiggles her lips in an odd, quirky way as if the words are fighting just behind her teeth. “I... I’ve heard rumors.” The maid swallows and musters up a little more courage to shake the tremors in her voice. “That your husband has been seen... getting close with a ranch girl some ways away from town.”

‘Malon.’ Zelda thinks but does not interupt.

“M-My issue isn’t as serious as that... but... I heard... that there might be a bet among the guards on who... can... bed me first.” She says the last part so quietly that Zelda almosts asks her to repeat it but she’s shivering so badly that she doesn’t dare. “H-How do you ignore things like that? Mean things!”

The Queen gets up from her table and moves forward to take the tray from the girl’s hands. She puts it down and then takes hold of the girl. “It can be difficult and I remember when it used to sting. Hurt and cut so deep that I would agonize over it.” Zelda squeezes the girl shoulders and smiles. “ I have worked hard to value my own worth and words. I’ve surrounded myself with friends who are quick to ignore these kinds of things and who work to support one another. I would advise you to do the same.” She releases her and then laughs. “I have also gotten pretty brave and tend to track down those being particularly nasty to give them a piece of my mind.”

“R-Really?!”

“I wouldn’t say for you to do the same... but,” Zelda shrugs, “I can make an arrangement that the guards are reminded they are supposed to be noble and righteous.”

“Thank you!” The gratitude that shines in those brown eyes warms Zelda’s heat but it isn’t too long after they’re quick goodbye that something cold slithers it’s way in.

Her room is warm and inviting which is only enhanced by the fact that her favorite person is sitting in his old armchair by the fireplace. Link has his legs draped over the arm and seemed to have only managed removing one boot before getting lost in tracing the lines of the map he’s inspecting. 

“I would have come to bed earlier but I got lost in the library.” 

Link snorts and folds the map down so she can see him snicker at her. “You mean, lost in that old book I brought you.” He wags his eyebrows at her as she begins to undress for bed which is met with an eyeroll.

“Says the man studying his next adventure.”

“Heh.” He drops his map onto the end table next to him and reaches down to finally remove his shoe. “I am merely keeping our beloved kingdom safe from monsters.”

“And treasure.”

He grins. “If I must!” Link stands to begin removing his own clothes long since in need of a good cleaning. He drops across the bed and reaches his hand out to draw her against his chest. His merry mood dims and he looks sad all of a sudden. Link caresses her cheek when she props herself up to look at him with a questioning expression. “I, uh, talked to Malon the other day and she thinks it might be time I retire my girl.”

“Epona?” Zelda ignores the sting in her chest at the rancher’s name and focuses on the sadness in her husband’s voice. “She’s nearly 18, love. Not quite young enough for adventures any longer... ” She pokes his chest. “And neither are you.”

He pouts. “I’m not yet 30.”

“30 is old enough to start thinking about settling down... eh, dear?”

Link shrugs. “I don’t know.” He laughs. “Marriage is a being commitment.”

She gently smacks his chest and sits up. “Terribly sorry to inconvenience you.” Zelda sighs and, after just a moment or two of quick contemplation, decides that she doesn’t like the heaviness she feel in her chest. “Darling?”

Link pops up behind her and brushes her hair to the side so that he can kiss the curve of her neck. “Yes, my beautiful love?”

“Do... you...” She feels silly, suddenly, asking him something like this while his hands encircle her. “Um.”

Link places his chin on her shoulder and then titles his head so his head lightly bumps hers. “Zelda, what is it?” His voice is soft, encouraging, and she wonders if he will laugh at her question.

“You’ve been spending more time at Lon Lon... and... it’s come to the attention of the court--”

“Ah, yes, the spymasters.” Link pulls away to lie back against the headboard. 

“Well.” She pushes on though she misses the reassurance his bodyheat gave her. “They’ve noticed how close you and Malon have become... again.”

“Again?” He asks and she turns in time to see the puzzle she had not even fully laid out click together in his eyes. “You think I’m cheating?” Link’s voice tries very hard to remain even and calm but she can tell there’s more complicated emotions swelling in him. 

“N-No!” Zelda holds her hands up and shakes her head. “I-It’s just that you used to be close--”

“You can say engaged, Zelda. It’s not a curse.” Link frowns and crosses his arms. Zelda knows that’s the sign he has upped his mental guard. “That was ages ago. We were teenagers.”

“I know.” She slumps and curls her legs up to her chest. “Sometimes, when I hear the whispers, I think that maybe you regret becoming my husband.” She sighs. “It is hard when our relationship has been so complicated and I think about how easy a life with Malon would be.” She meets his gaze and shrugs. “I would not blame you if the temptation be--”

“Nope.” Link moves forward and seizes her face in his hands. He kisses her fully and hard against the mouth. “Listen,” He says presses his forehead against hers, “there isn’t a day that goes by that I am not so incredibly happy that I have you. That we chose each other. That I have this, right here, until that day that I die.” He kisses her more softly this time. “Malon and I were kids... there is always going to be some affection there. I cannot deny that.” Link smiles so softly and genuinely that Zelda feels her heart skip a beat. “But, I love you. I love you and there is no one else that would be able to fill the space you would leave if I were to lose you.”

Zelda smiles and is a little shocked when his thumb brushes away a tear. “I love you too, darling.” She kisses him and allows herself to be pulled into his lap. “I’m sorry for doubting you.”

“Don’t be.” He chuckles. “Sometimes, it’s nice just to be reassured.”

#queaky writes #zelink #legend of zelda #fanfiction #zelink fanfiction