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weasleyreidstyles · 5 months

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Serendipity

chapter two

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. All characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): slight mind manipulation?

series masterlist; previous part; next part

At some point during the feast, you managed to sneak your way onto the Gryffindor table, sliding into the seat beside Ginny, who was sat with Dean Thomas to her other side, who shifted uncomfortably everytime Ron glared at the hand that was grazing his sister's.

"Nice face, Harold." you say sarcastically. "Who healed the break? It looks rushed."

"Thanks Meadow." he snarks before deflating further in his seat as your eyes tracked him for more injuries. "Tonks walked me from the train."

You hummed in acknowledgment before you went over the unhealed scabs and dried patches of blood with wordless spells which always left your friends marvelling at your skill.

"There. Now your face is pretty as ever." you say smirking, patting Harry's cheek which he swats away. "Can't have the 'Chosen One' at his worst now, can we?"

"Piss off." he grumbled but it was only banter between two friends.

"How are you, really, Harry? Where'd you disappear to on the train." you wanted to hear him say it, even if you did trust Theo's word.

"I was right about Malfoy-" he starts before you interrupt him.

"So I've heard. You've taken up stalking as a hobby now, Potter? That's low." you chuckle, which turns into a full on laugh as he glares at you, annoyed.

"He's a Death Eater." he lowers his voice, but his admission sucks the happiness right out of the air. "He was talking about some task that Voldemort has for him."

He pauses as if his mind is trying to catch up with the words tumbling from his mouth, before he looks directly at you, as if he's staring through you.

"You've seen Nott today right? And Parkinson?" you nodded. "What did they talk about? Did Nott talk about his father being caught at the Ministry? Or did-"

You raised a singular brow at your friend as if to say 'are you finished?'.

"Yes I saw them today, in the Prefects' carriage. We just caught up with small talk and some gossip about some Hufflepuff couple. Nothing more." the lie was quickly thought out and also not too far fetched – Pansy had mentioned something about a new couple in passing before you'd parted ways on the train.

"Nothing about tasks or creepy shops?" Ron asked as he shoved a piece of chicken into his mouth. You watched him, discust painting your features.

"Nothing about tasks, and certainly nothing about creepy shops. Please chew with your mouth closed, Ronald. Seriously Harry? Stalking?"

He only shrugged at you before turning to his plate of food. He was clearly put out about something and you would bet all your galleons that it had to do with the couple next to you, who were being nauseating, to put it lightly.

You and Hermione giggled as Ron muttered about his sister and her boyfriend showing any ounce of affection in front of him, sharing a glance as Harry continued to glance at them before looking away, visibly annoyed.

When Dumbledore began to stand in front of the House tables, you slipped back into your seat beside Luna; in the corner of your eye you watched as Theo gave you the subtlest of nods.

"The very best of evenings to you!" Dumbledore announced, smiling broadly, his arms outstretched wide as if he were embracing the whole room. That's when you, and the rest of the Hogwarts student body, noticed that his right hand appeared to have started decaying at a rapid rate.

You made eye contact with Pansy who looked as horrified as everyone else.

What the fuck? She practically screamed into your mind as the sound of people whispering swept through the hall.

Dumbledore merely smiled before he shook the sleeve of his purple and gold cloak over his hand.

"Nothing to worry about," he said airily. "Now...to our new students, welcome, to our old students, welcome back! Another year full of magical education awaits you..."

You drowned out the rest of his speech, like you do every year, instead conversing with Pansy in your head.

It looks like his hand has physically died. You say to her. It's got to be dark magic of some sort.

But what business does Dumbledore have messing with that sort of evil? She sounded as nauseated as you felt just thinking about it.

"We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year. Professor Slughorn-" Dumbledore said, prompting the man that you had yet to meet to stand up. "-is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master."

You swivelled in your seat to find Hermione in the crowds and mouthed 'potions?' to her with confusion written all over your face.

The word echoed all over the Hall as people wondered whether they had heard right.

"But if he's the Potions Professor, then who will be teaching Defence?" Cho spoke from across the table.

"Professor Snape, meanwhile," said Dumbledore, raising voice so that it carried over all the muttering, "will be taking the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Well that answered that question.

"No!" you giggled quietly with Luna as everyone's heads swivelled back and forth between Harry, who had shouted so loudly but didn't seem to care, Snape and Dumbledore.

And suddenly Defence is my least favourite subject. Theo spoke, making you choke on your drink as you laugh.

As if oblivious to the uproar his announcement just caused, Dumbledore waited only a few moments before the hall descended into silence once more, before continuing his long winded speech.

"Now as everyone in this Hall is aware," he pointedly looked anywhere but in the direction of the Slytherin table, "Lord Voldemort and his followers once again walk among us and gain strength and numbers everyday."

Suddenly the heads that were staring in Harry's direction turned pointedly to where Mattheo Riddle and his friends were sitting. Instead of shying away from their gazes, like Pansy and Daphne Greengrass and few others did, he continued to stare ahead at Dumbledore, seemingly unbothered by the attention he was garnering.

The silence seemed to strain painfully as Dumbledore spoke. But you seemed to zone out of what he was saying. Something about the castle's protection wards being fortified and strengthened; extra security; stricter curfew at night, etc. You took in none of it, instead focusing on your friends at the Slytherin table, who grew paler by the second. You'd watch out for them this year, especially Theo. None of them deserved to be put into the position they no doubt would all be in, come Christmas time.

Dumbledore's blue twinkling eyes swept over the students once more. "But now, your beds await, as warm and comfortable as you could possibly wish, and I know that your top priority is to be well-rested for your lessons tomorrow. Let us therefore say good night. Pip pip!"

Your lessons tomorrow.

You wished it was as simple as school work, but you knew it would be anything but.

~∞~

You woke up early the next morning, the anticipation for what the day may bring making your anxiety skyrocket as you got ready to leave for the Great Hall, in which the ceiling sported a brilliantly blue sky, only a few clouds dotting the illusion. You met the Golden trio there, who were busy discussing Harry's theory about Malfoy.

"Well obviously Riddle's already inducted." Ron muttered as you sat down, a speck of blue, in a sea of red. "He is his father's son, after all."

"Still going on your Malfoy-is-a-death eater spiel? The day has hardly begun." you said as you piled scrambled eggs onto a plate, ignoring the pointed look that Professor Mcgonagall gave you as she handed out her House's timetables.

Ron seemed to be getting more agitated by the second as another group of third years on the table beside your's pointed between the four of you and whispered, not so discreetly, about what happened in June.

"It's rude to point." he snapped, sending a glare their way, causing them to turn around, cheeks painted with embarrassment.

"So sixth year looks very bare in comparison to last year, doesn't it." you say, steering Ron's glare from the backs of their heads while you looked over his timetable.

"I love being a sixth year already." Ron said, his mood brightening visibly thanks to your interference. "And we're going to be getting free time this year. Whole periods when we can just sit up in the common room and relax."

"We're going to need that time for studying, Ron!" Hermione berated as you laughed.

"Yeah, but not today," said Ron, "today's going to be a real doss, I reckon."

"I wouldn't speak too soon, Ronald." you say with a smirk as Professor Mcgonagall makes her way over to the four of you. You'd already gotten your timetable the from Professor Flitwick that morning and found out that you were in the same classes as Hermione. You both finished off your plates and left Harry and Ron in favour of getting to Ancient Runes, where Theo and Riddle were waiting for you.

Reaching the classroom, you spotted Theo immediately and went to snag the seat beside him, but Pansy beat you to it with a playful smirk.

"Come and sit by me, Princess." you glared at your two friends as you turned around to find Riddle with his arm stretched over the back of the spare seat of his desk. "I don't bite."

"Somehow I highly doubt that." you mumbled as you searched for Hermione, who had chosen to sit near the front of the room, the seat beside her already taken. Traitor. She only looked at you apologetically before turning around.

You slumped into the seat, pointedly ignoring him as you took out your things. You could hear Theo and Pansy laughing at your expense so you sent a small stinging jinx wandlessly their way, smirking when they yelped in surprise.

"Smart girl." Riddle mumbled to himself, probably not intending for you to hear, but your cheeks flushed all the same.

"So was Theo lying about your disastrous ability to desipher runes, or was that just a way to get me to agree for your...help?" you ask, still choosing to igore him.

"Oh I assure you I'm quite terrible, Princess. Awful. In fact I'm not sure how I got back into this class, if I'm being entirely honest." he said it with a shrug before he smirked at you again. "I'm sure you can help me. You are top of the class, after all."

"Actually Mione was top of the class at the end of last year. Why not ask her?" you ask, glancing at him through the corner of your eye. He had turned to look directly at you, but his hand was still on the back of your chair.

You try, and fail, to push it off, sneering at the muscular appendage in offence. Damn him and his strong, quidditch arms.

"Theodore doesn't trust Granger, he trusts you. Therefore, I'm putting my trust into your...abilities to help me out."

Lovely. His words carried a double meaning. You were really considering hexing Theo and Pansy again for putting you in this situation.

His huff of laughter along with the burning pinch at the base of your skull were the only indications that he'd heard your thoughts.

After Defence, wait for me so that we can discuss the nature of your lessons and my apparent tutlage.

You ignored him for the rest of the lesson, but wordlessly agreed, nonetheless.

~∞~

You were complaining to Hermione the whole walk to the Defence classroom, and while she was amused, there was underlying worry in her responses.

"So he wants you to tutor him?" she asks curiously.

"Not a clue why." you say flipantly. "If I was him I'd much rather you taught me."

"Well I am a muggleborn, for starters." she says self-depricatingly and continues speaking, not allowing you to rebute her statement. "And you're still at the top of the class. Christ, you can do most spells non-verbally and wandlessly, far better than I can. I think I'd rather you than me, too. No offence."

You only smiled sarcastically at her. "I don't think anyone would willingly tutor him. Perhaps I should bargain a favour with him instead."

You left out the part where he was already fulfilling a kind of favour, for Theodore and Pansy, no less.

"One class in and my shoulders already ache." you whine as you rolled your shoulder to ease the pain that your heavy bag was causing. Harry and Ron met you outside the classroom a moment later, staring, horrified, at Hermione's armful of heavy books.

"We've gotten so much homework for Runes already." she said anxiously. "A fifteen-inch essay, two translations and we've got to read these by Wednesday!"

"Now I see why we have so many frees this year." you grumble.

"Shame," Ron said with a yawn, before smirking at the two of you.

"Just you wait," she said resentfully. "I bet Snape gives us loads."

The classroom door opened as she spoke and Snape stepped into the corridor, his sallow face framed as ever by two curtains of greasy black hair. Silence fell over the queue immediately.

"Inside," he said.

The Defence classroom was gloomier than ever, but thankfully it was no longer sickeningly pink and filled to the brim with plates of cat photos. The dark curtains were drawn across the windows and the only light came from the numerous candles that dotted the room, insighting a headache when you tried to read the blackboard. Snape's personality appeared to shine all over the room, from the odd portraits to the weird contraptions that littered the space.

"I have not asked you to take out your books," said Snape, closing the door and moving to face the class from behind his desk; Hermione hastily dropped her copy of Confronting the Faceless back into her bag and stowed it under her chair. "I wish to speak to you and I require your fullest attention. You have had five teachers in this subject so far, I believe."

His dark, beady eyes scanned the room.

"Naturally, these teachers will all have had their own methods and priorities. Given this confusion I am surprised so many of you scraped an O.W.L. in this subject. I shall be even more surprised if all of you manage to keep up with the N.E.W.T. work, which will be much more advanced." he set off around the edge of the room, speaking now in a low voice that you desperately wanted to drown out. But the burning sensation at the back of your skill prohibited you from doing just that.

No. Pay attention. Riddle was becoming a thorn in your side, and its only the first day.

"The Dark Arts," said Snape, "are many, varied, ever-changing and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster. Each time a neck is severed, it sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible."

Someone read up on their Greek mythology this summer. You say to Theo, who smirks behind his hand.

"Your defences," Snape continued, a little louder, "must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the Arts you seek to undo. These pictures," he indicated a few of them as he swept past, "give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse-" he waved a hand towards a witch who was clearly shrieking in agony; "-feel the Dementor's Kiss-" a wizard lying huddled and blank-eyed slumped against a wall; "-or provoke the aggression of the Inferius." a bloody mass upon the ground.

"Has an Inferius been seen, then?" Parvati Patil asked in a high-pitched voice. "Is it definite, is he using them?"

"The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past," said Snape, "which means you would be well-advised to assume he might use them again. Now..."

You really did drown him out this time. Thinking about his wording. To your knowledge, only his followed gave him the name 'the Dark Lord', so why was Snape using that name? You filed away the information as he paced across the classroom.

"....you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of non-verbal spells. What is the advantage of a non-verbal spell?"

Hermione's hand shot into the air. Snape took his time looking around at everybody else, pointledly looking in your direction where your hands stayed glued to your sides, making sure he had no choice, before saying curtly, "Very well – Miss Granger?"

"Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform," she stated, "which gives you a split-second advantage."

"An answer copied almost word for word from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6," said Snape dismissively. "But correct in essentials. Yes, those who progress to using magic without shouting incantations gain an element of surprise in their spell-casting. Not all wizards can do this, of course; it is a question of concentration and mind power which some," his gaze lingered maliciously upon Harry, "lack."

The Professor's beady eyes landed on you once more, a challenge present in them.

"Miss Meadow, come up to the front." everyone's eyes were on you as he beckoned you forward, so you obeyed. "I want you to demonstrate this skill. On me." He motioned for you to stand on one side of the room, while he stayed at the other.

You shook off your limps and, using your wand rather than just doing it wandlessly, you shot out a disarming spell, which Snape blocked.

"Good. Now try again." he said as he shot his own disarming spell at you, which you wordlessly blocked with a flick of your wand.

This back and forth continued for five or so more minutes before Snape managed to catch you off guard and disarm you with a minute flick of his wrist.

"Very good. Now following that example, you will divide into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence. Carry on."

People paired off, you choosing to partner with Mione who looked determined to perfect this new skill. Everyone who was part of the DA in the previous year were practically experts at casting spells, but none of them, bar you, could perform the Charms wordlessly. A reasonable amount of cheating ensued; many people were merely whispering the incantation instead of saying it aloud, including Ron, which only made you laugh as you watched as Harry blocked his every attack.

Of course, Hermione had gotten the hang of it within ten minutes of practice, as did Theo and Zabini and Riddle. Harry and Ron were still struggling, along with Pansy and Lorenzo.

To say you were bored was an understatement. Snape had already known that you were skilled with wordless and apparently wandless magic too, which meant that he could clearly see into your mind – yet another reason why Riddle needed to teach you control. The only other interesting thing to happen was Harry blatently sassing your Professor, which left you and Hermione gaping and Ron, Dean and Seamus grinning at him.

Once the lesson had ended, Snape in a more abysmal mood than usual after Harry made a fool out of him, you lingered in the corridor, waiting for Riddle to leave so that you could get the interaction over with.

"Hey Meadow! You coming?" Ron asked loudly from the end of the hallway. He looked at you with an odd expression on his face which morphed into unwilling understanding when you felt Theo's presence beside you.

"I'll be there in a bit. I'll meet you in the courtyard." you shout back as you turn towards Theo and his friends.

"Some lesson that was, right tesoro?" Theo asks you as he wraps a strong arm around your shoulder, steering you in the direction of the rest of his group, who were looking between you, Theo and Mattheo with matching expressions on their faces.

"What the hell is she doing here, Nott?" Malfoy asks, looking at you with distain. You glared back at him, about to respond when his familiar deep voice answers instead.

"She's here for me." Riddle says. "Go on ahead. I won't be a moment."

Its Zabini who steers Malfoy away from his glaring contest with you, and Theo who wordlessly wishes you luck with a pat to the top of your head.

"So you're going to teach me control?" you ask as you lean against the nearest wall. He rolls his eyes and wraps a giant hand around your wrist.

"Yes." he hissed. "But not here. How stupid are you? Talking about it out in the open, by a classroom, nonetheless."

Your eyes only widened in mild surprise as he began dragging you down the corridor in the direction that his friends went, but he turned into an empty broom cupboard instead.

"Salazar, if you wanted to get me alone like this there were far better ways of asking Riddle." you say sarcastically, but your eyes show a teasing challenge as you stare up at him.

"Was that an offer, Princess?" he asks with that wicked smirk of his.

"Read the room, Riddle. I'd rather sleep with a troll." you snark.

"Suit yourself." he chuckles before his face sets into that serious look he seems to have mastered in his years at Hogwarts. "The first step to learning full control is learning how to ground yourself."

You look at him expectantly which made him roll is eyes.

"You have to find a happy medium in your head that allows you to keep control of what you don't want people to see, and who you let into your head." he explains motioning to his own head as he speaks.

"So that horrible burning feeling in the back of my skull whenever you get in my head-" you begin.

"Is only there because it lets you know that someone unwanted is using Occlimency on you. The fact that you can't block me out is what we need to work on. Does the same happen with Theodore and Pansy when you communicate with them?"

"No. They're presence is wanted. Yours," you trail your eyes up and down what you can see of his tall frame in the dark, "is not."

"Well until you do accept me in your subconscious, it'll continue to hurt and it'll hurt more when you're trying to block it out." he says and to demonstrate he begins rifling through your thoughts and feelings with little to no effort, that burning sensation appearing like a pinch once again. You cradle you head in your hands, a cry escaping your lips.

Walking to the Great Hall for breakfast that morning, anxiety knawing at your insides.

Harry's Malfoy-is-a-death-eater spiel.

Your mini-dual with Snape.

How you want Riddle to rip your clothes right off your body and have him take you-

That wasn't right. You managed to mentally push him right out of your mind with more effort than you reckon it would take for you to haul a quaffle into the goal. It made your head ache.

"What the fuck was that?!" you snap, hitting his arm.

"You're a fast learner. Well done. It takes most people multiple sessions to do what you just did." he looks...proud. It stirs something strange in your gut.

"What did I just do?" you asked, intrigued, scared, confused.

"You just succeeded in blocking me out of your head." he smirked lightly, almost showing a ghost of a smile.

We're going to have lots of fun, Princess.

He was still in your head. His deep voice filling every corner of your mind, but that burning sensation was no longer present. It no longer stung and he was no longer able to rifle through your thoughts. Only converse with you, like you could with Theo and Pansy.

"We'll do this twice a week, until you can block me out without thinking about it." he said as he walked towards the door, leaving you standing motionlessly in the dark.

~∞~

icl the whole plot of this is heavily inspired by my beloved xaden and violet's bond with all their mind talking and arguing🤭🤭 (minus the dragons, etc)

#mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x you #harry potter #hermione granger #ron weasley #professor snape #ravenclaw x slytherin #serendipity series

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yanderederee · 4 months

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SocialCues

a/n: Been feeling a little down lately.. very self-comfort, but I hope anyone else who has deep rooted anxiety and poor social skills can appreciate this…

cw: depictions of bullying and self-degradation/anxiety. Angst/Comfort

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Why did this always happen? How, even?

You seriously couldn’t wrap your head around how you always found yourself in these damned situations…

After being left alone at your desk, you quietly listened as the classmate who had just walked away whispered to themselves.

“What a freak…”

What did you even do? A freak? You were rightfully polite and pleasant, just as you always have been.

Did you say something wrong? Something weird? All you did was ask your classmate about their dog. Out of all the subjects you were taught to bring up in conversation, pets and hobbies were a universal win. (Strictly of the other person, because if you started going on a rant about your own pet or hobbies, you would make the person feel awkward and at a loss for words.)

How is it you always had a way of making everyone you talk to feel so awkward and bored?

But it was so lonely being forced into submissive quietness. You may have hated that more than the quiet glares of others. So still, you try to do your best and talk to people.

But only after a month of trying, it was evident that others were beginning to avoid you. To avoid talking to you. Avoiding eye contact.

You repeated what you’ve been told over and over again.

Saying less is more.

Use considerate language; words and phrasings.

Don’t make the conversation about yourself.

Avoid too specific points of conversation.

Read their facial expressions.

If they look desperate to leave, end the conversation quickly as to not bother them further.

Maybe being too conscious of what you said was your downfall?

But seriously, what else could you do? If you tried being casual, you make it awkward. If you tried too hard, you make it awkward. And if you don’t try at all, you force yourself into isolation.

Once lunch time rolled around, you started your way to the bathrooms to wash your hands before eating. How could you eat when your hands were covered in eraser shavings and lead stains? However, just at the threshold of the bathroom entrance, you could hear a conversation.

“L/n just doesn’t know when to shut up, does she?”

“Seriously! I can’t even get in a word with her!”

“Really? I just felt like she wasn’t even there when I tried talking to her! Like, she was waiting for me to ask her questions or something.”

“She asks way too many questions, like, why are you so obsessed with me?”

“She doesn’t really have much of a personality, I can’t stand people like that!”

“I dunno, I just can’t stand her.”

Honestly, they were pretty loud. People around the bathroom could definitely hear whoever it was talking.

You honestly didn’t even know how to react.

Maybe this was a good thing? At least this way you knew what you were doing wrong. Unfiltered criticism on how you could do better. So silently, you stood and listened.

It really hurt, hearing people talk about you like this. But it was your fault in the first place. Suck it up. Do better. Be better.

Holding back your tears, you fidgeted with your fingers. It was no good. You were bound to burst out in tears at any second.

“Oi.” Out came a sudden call. Startled, your heart leapt out of your chest. Looking up, you saw your classmate, Baji Keisuke, holding three filing boxes of what you assumed to be pre-graded tests and other miscellaneous paperwork. “Lend me a hand, would ya? Teach wants these taken to the teachers lounge before lunch’s over.”

It took you a few seconds to properly register that he was actually talking to you. Though it was hard to tell, given his huge thick rimmed glasses. Once it finally clicked that he was actually talking to you, a wave of embarrassment hit you hard.

“Me? Oh, uhh… o-okay.” You agreed slowly, looking at your dirty hands. You guessed it would be more suitable to wait to wash your hands after carrying a dusty box. Somewhat relieved, you nodded and walked over to your black haired classmate, gingerly shifting the top most box out of his face, into your grip. “Just this one is fine, or should I grab another..?”

You began to ask, until you were met with awkward silence.

SHIT. YOU DID IT AGAIN? Already? Embarrassed to the point of tears, you started down. “S-sorry, dumb question.”

Your classmate seemed disgruntled at your comment. Self pity never looked good. You were just digging yourself into a more massive hole. Just shut up and take the boxes.

Lift your fair share.

Almost forgot that rule.

Just as you went to shuffle the second box out from his grasp, your class mate stepped back. “I got these, just the one is fine.” He said.

“Just the one?” You asked.

“Yeah.. I mean, not to sound like an ass— I mean, um…” he clicked his tongue, trying to think of a better way to rephrase his comment.

“You can say ass, I don’t care.” You giggled quietly. You were faking it a little, what with how shot your confidence was already. But it was cute watching Baji flounder for the right words.

“Right. What I mean is, I’m probably stronger than you are, carrying these isn’t any issue. I just needed help with the third one since it was blocking my view.”

That made sense. He was damn near a foot taller than you after all. And he didn’t seem to struggle with the load in strength. Your silence made your classmate a little on edge.

“I ain’t trying to call you weak or anything. Shit. Just.. lets go.” He huffed before starting his way to the stair case.

Following close behind, you were scrambling your head with how to reply. Do you need to reply? But he sounded a little unsure of his own phrasing, sometimes validation was good for these kinds of situations.

‘It’s okay, I didn’t think you were calling me weak.’

Simulating the conversation in your head, you give up, rationalizing that your comment would more than likely go unanswered anyway.

Lost in these thoughts, you trailed behind Baji silently.

That’s right.

When it doubt, just be quiet. Just. Be quiet.

And it seemed your classmate was content with this as well.

Just as you were rounding the stairs, you were suddenly overwhelmed by a group of boys roughhousing with one another, laughing and unbothered. Before you even had the chance to move out of their way, a boy had rammed into your side hard. This caused for a series of unfortunate events.

Being as you were just making your way down the stairs, this rash shove caused you to lose your balance, trip over your feet, and topple forward. It wasn’t pretty. You definitely did at least one summersault on your crash down, the box of papers you held flying everywhere. What would have made it worse was if you had crashed into Baji on your way down, but luckily for both of you, he had walked at a much quicker pace, and had already reached the bottom of the staircase before your topple.

It was dead silent. Luckily, there weren’t too many students around, but there were enough. The boys looked back to one another, contemplating if they could just run off before you realized who they were, stay and help, or even apologize. You were the weirdo of their class after all, it’s not like these kinds of things didn’t just… happen.

“The hells your guys’ problem, huh?!” Baji yelled. It was really loud, louder than you’d ever heard him before. “Got a death wish or somethin’? Help pick this shit up, now!”

Hell with his reputation, this shit pissed him off way more than his tempter would allow him to suppress.

“R-right!” The boys who’d bumped into you nodded and scrambled to pick up all the scattered papers. “And apologize!” Baji yelled a second time, furious that they hadn’t even considered to do that first.

“We’re really sorry!! We weren’t looking, it was an accident!! We’re sorry!” They groveled low to the ground as they cleaned up the mess of their own making.

Baji huffed, but seeing as they were doing exactly as he told, he let it be for now. He sat his own boxes down gently, squatting over to help you up. “Hey, you okay?” He asked.

“No—“ you snapped in a sarcastic tone, but it was only out of bubbling up frustration and humiliation. Clearing out your throat, before he would reply, you started to pick up the papers scattered at your bruised knees. “Yeah, sorry. I’m okay; just didn’t expect it.. sorry I dropped the box. Sorry.” You repeated quietly, head hung low.

You only ever made trouble. If you’d just moved out of the way faster, you wouldn’t have messed up so harshly. Even if they were clearly in the wrong, if you’d just caught your footing instead of tripping, none of this would have happened.

“Come on, these bastards can take the rest from here.” Baji glared while his glasses slipped past his nose, leaving each boy trembling in fear. “W-we’ve got it from here..” One nodded in defeat.

Baji grabbed your shoulders, you rushed you to your feet. “Don’t worry about this, ‘going to the nurse.” He had an aura of order around him while helping you down the remaining stairs. “It’s okay, you don’t have to walk me..” you mumbled, not even sure it was worth going to the nurse for anyway. All you did was fall.

“You’ve got a few knots, and a lot of bruising. You should really be put on ice.” Baji looked you over as the two of you walked. “It had to of hurt. Seriously, those guys should have been looking where they were going. Don’t worry about it though, I’ll make sure they properly apologize again later.”

You chuckled humorlessly, and waved him off, eyes still glued downcast. “It’s not that big of a deal. It was an accident.”

“Accident or not, they’re gonna pay.” He muttered. “Sorry to trouble you, you’d probably have been better off if I just took the boxes all myself.”

“No worries, I wanted to help.”

Once you reached the nurse, Baji stopped you before going in. “You’re L/n, right?”

“Y-yeah, Y/n L/n… I sit in the front, a few rows to the right of where you sit.”

“Right. Sorry bout that again, I’ll let the teacher know you’ll be back a little later than lunch, so don’t sweat hurrying back. Just take your time.”

When was the first the anyone was this considerate of your wellbeing? Sure, it was a common courtesy, but it was still out of the norm. He gave a final look over of you, he seemed to narrow his brows further. “Well … I’m off. Seriously, take it easy.” He waved, and stepped back, waiting for you to enter.

“Right… thank you, Baji.” You have a slight bow before escaping into the nurses office.

⋆｡ﾟ｡⋆｡ﾟ ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

You were so tired. Maybe it would be best to let it go. Just accept you weren’t able to make friends. Finally accept something was actually wrong with you, and just stop trying.

Murmurs about your little fall were the talk of the class after lunch. Apparently the guys who bumped into you were actually pretty popular. Spreading misinformation about what happened, and making you out to be the bad guy. Seriously, what did you ever do to them? It wasn’t fair.

Overwhelmed, the end of the day came, and it was becoming impossible to tune out all 20 different conversations happening simultaneously as students filed out of the classroom. You bit your tongue and waited. The room would become empty before too long.

One by one, everyone left. And you were finally left alone. Finally. The weight of the day finally began to settle in the newfound quietness.

You quietly laid your head down on your desk, and held your arm sleeves tightly. Just breath. Why is it no matter what, you always make things worse? It was so suffocating, you didn’t even realize how harsh your breathing had become. Tears burned your eyes, and suddenly you couldn’t hold it back anymore. Openly sobbing into your sleeves, you huddled in upon yourself closer.

This sucked! What the hell! You didn’t do anything wrong! So why…

It didn’t do any good to think about it further than that. All thinking did was make it worse. Stop thinking. Just pretend like it didn’t happen. Pretend like you don’t hear anyone when they talk behind your back anymore. Pretend like your knees don’t hurt, like your feelings weren’t crushed. No one cared anyway. Suck it up.

Do better. Be better. Stop crying. Stop—

“Hey…” you heard a soft voice call out beside you. Your breath hitched. Was the classroom not empty? Did you seriously start crying in front of someone like that? This had to be the worst day.

You felt something cold touch your shoulder, and what you can only assume to be a juice box plopped down on your desk.

You didn’t lift your head. Soon to follow, the slight screech in a chair pulled out beside you, and the shifting of clothes. “Leave me alone…” you said softly; hoarsely.

“I thought about it… but it kinda seems like you could use a friend.” Wait, you recognized that voice. Ever so slightly, you turned your head to the side, and peeked past your hair to see Baji sitting slouched and wide legged beside you.

Still, you couldn’t let him see you like this. Rubbing your eyes against the material of your sleeve, you mumbled again. “It’s okay. You really don’t have to do all that.”

He was quiet. You were hopeful that he wouldn’t push the pity treatment further. The juice box was enough. It was thoughtful, and sweet. He was trying. But it was unnecessary. You’d forget about today soon enough.

Baji wasn’t sure what he should do. Maybe he should just leave you alone. He wasn’t really that good at comforting people, and you really didn’t seem in the mood to talk.

He’d never talked to you before today anyway.

Yet he couldn’t find it in himself to do it.

Anytime your name was brought to mention, it was always some bullshit gossip he never cared to listen to. You kept a low profile and seemed to always have a cheery aura about you. Those rumors were just that, rumors. It kind of reminded himself of when people would mumble about him behind his back when he first got held back. Sure, everything that everyone said about him was true, about being a delinquent, or being dumb. But it didn’t seem that way with you.

“People are assholes and just say shit to make you feel bad about yourself. I’m friends with a bunch of weirdos— some real freaks, so I can confidently say you aren’t as weird as people make you out to be.”

Well, it was a nice thought, if anything else. You giggled, sniffling a last few times before turning away from Baji, and wiping your face clean. You faced forward, a guilty smile decorating your features.

Baji Keisuke wasn’t ever really one to notice a person’s appearance, not for girls anyway. Yet he couldn’t help but admire you. Maybe it was the puffiness of your eyes and lashes, all clumped up together in wet mattes. Or maybe it was the gentle smile of giving up that twisted his heart into feeling like he should help you. To get closer to you.

“H-here.” Baji stuttered, and held out his glasses to you. “I don’t actually need them, they’re just for show. You were trying to hide you were crying, right?”

You blinked suspiciously at him, who was a little red faced and shifting of his own gaze. Was he trying to be considerate? Either way, it made you laugh. “Why do you wear them if you don’t need them?” You took the bait, and reached out for the plastic glasses.

“Well, I’ve been told I can look, intimidating, kinda. Like I’m always glarin’ or something. S-so, I guess that’s why?” He couldn’t exactly tell you he didn’t want to be recognized for being Tokyo Manji Gang’s first division captain.

“That so?” You played along, putting the glasses on in playful banter. “Huh, you’re right. They’re fake.” You smiled, and looked back over at Baji. Immediately, Baji broke out into a fit of laughter.

“Bwaaahaha! What the hell! You look so dorky!” He toppled onto himself, holding his side. You immediately followed his fit of laughter, kicking the chair below him. “I look dorky? Speak for yourself poindexter! You’re the one who looks goofy on the daily!”

Normally, those comments would cause Baji to roll his eyes, but with how lighthearted the air was, it only managed to make him laugh harder.

It felt good, laughing so hard with someone. A stranger even. “Alright, come on’, I’ll treat you to some ramen. You had to skip out on eating lunch since I asked you to help me right? You gatta be starving.” Baji offered, hoisting himself up and out of his chair, pushing it in.

“Well…” you thought about it. You’d hate to put him out and cause anymore unnecessary trouble. Yet, for once, you felt like you understood the social cues going on around you. Being able to relax, smile and laugh with someone, and they offer to take you out for food? Would it really be a bad thing to accept?

“Sure…”

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers comfort #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo revengers baji #baji #baji keisuke #keisuke baji #baji x reader #baji keisuke x reader #tokrev baji

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cod-dump · 1 month

Note

This could very much be an odd idea but thoughts on Nik not trusting barbers to get his hair or beard right (the word "beard" is used loosely) so he just does it himself, straight razor and all. Eventually Price finds out about this and, being a man of duty, takes it upon himself to take care of his partner. This ends up with Price sitting on Nik's lap with all of Nik's shaving tools laid out and Price sternly telling him to "shut up and sit still" everytime he tries to make a joke about their proximity

Date Night

PriceNik

———

Nik won’t cut his hair or shave until he considers it bothersome. And when he does it’s all coming off. And Price hates it. Nik would just take it all off at once and Price wouldn’t even recognize him. They made their current arrangement years ago after Price finally had enough.

Now they had a system. Nik would tell Price when his hair and scruff would be bothering him and Price would quickly arrange a time they could sit down and he would take care of it. Nik liked to consider it date night for them because it was always so tender. The way Price would hold his face and get close? He looked forward to it ever since the first time.

He would get drinks for them (afterwards on Price’s insistence) and order in food. He would have some music lined up that would be soft, something Price liked and enjoys. Nik took date night seriously, especially since it was an opportunity to get Price to relax.

“What did you order this time? Smells amazing,” Food had gotten here sooner than expected, an error on Nik’s part. So now the delicious aroma was haunting them before Price had even started trimming his hair.

“Indian, your favorite.”

Nik made sure to go the extra mile to get food from Price’s favorite place, a whole country away. But nothing was too much for him to get something that’ll make Price’s night. Nik had one of his men go out and get it for him with the promise of giving him enough money to get himself something extra (be it food or something else entirely).

“We’re already married, you don’t have to keep trying to impressing me,” Price joked as he made sure he had everything he needed before he started on Nik’s hair.

“Nonsense, have to make sure you know you made the right choice.”

“Again with the charming.”

Price had turned away, confirming that Nik had him blushing. It was one of Nik’s favorite hobbies and one that he’s only allowed to do behind closed doors. He made Price blush once in front of the boys and that’s all they needed to torment the man for weeks on end. Price hasn’t forgiven him and sworn him from flirting in public. Nik had to play nice to get back the right to be affectionate in the common area again.

“Seeing some silver here.”

Nik almost melted when he felt his husband’s fingers touch his hair, his nails light scraping his scalp as he combed through with his fingers. Nik easily could fall asleep with Price petting his hair, but Price wasn’t allowing him and tugged a strand harshly.

“Sit up straight.”

“Bossy,” Nik teased which immediately earned him another tug. Nik sat up straight and allowed Price to comb through his hair before he started trimming.

Price was surprisingly very good with hair. Nik suspected he started when Ghost was brought home, very traumatized and unable to look himself in the mirror or go out in public. Price had taken it upon himself to help the man keep up with his appearance. Once Ghost gotten better, Price seemed to turn his new skill onto Nik.

“You would make a good living in a hair salon. Just need to get practice with color.”

Price hummed as he cut Nik’s hair, “You offering?”

“Hm, no. I might just keep the grey, remind myself how far I’ve survived.”

Price finished with his hair, now just under his ears. Price gently fluffed his hair, perhaps admiring his work or being affectionate.

“Could get some orange in there.”

Nik snorts, “Orange?”

“Maybe some purple, too.”

“I like Halloween but not that much,” Nik laughed, once again melting against Price’s touch. Price’s laugh was heavenly and Nik couldn’t stop grinning.

Price deemed Nik’s hair acceptable before he went to prepare to shave and trim the scruff on his face. Nik wasn’t as gifted in growing facial hair as Price but it still needed to be maintained to look presentable. Nik was just shaving it all off but Price had mentioned he liked it on him, so it stayed. And now Price tended to it, Nik happily letting him do whatever he wished.

Price used to stand over him to shave and trim the scruff, but they both found that the process was much easier and faster with Price on Nik’s lap.

“Keep your hands to yourself.”

Nik grinned at the warning, “I’m used to you not having so much clothing when you’re like this.”

Price smacked his head with a glare, Nik continuing to grin. Price being so close to his face, holding it and using sharp objects — It was safe to say that he was the only person Nik had ever let get this close. He was one of the only people Nik would ever trust to do this. Price knew that, Nik could tell with how he touched him. How his fingers stroked his cheek, how soft his eyes were.

Price knew how much Nik trusted him, how much he loved him. Moments like this meant so much to them. These moments allowed them to demonstrated how much they meant to the other, how much trust and love they had. Nik had closed his eyes, the ultimate sign of him allowing himself to be completely vulnerable and open to Price. It was a gift, something Price returns fully.

“There,” Price leaned back on Nik’s lap, hands on the man’s shoulders. The movement caused Nik to open his eyes, greeted by Price’s eyes which were full of love, “Much better.”

“Still has handsome as the day we met?” Nik asked, completely at Price’s mercy.

“No. Much more now than ever.”

Nik couldn’t help but laugh, quickly silenced by a kiss to his lips. The kiss was short, Price pulling away and pressing a kiss to his nose before moving up and kissing his forehead. The sweet, simple act made Nik shudder, he had never expected himself to fall so deep for someone.

“Я тебя люблю,” Nik said without thinking, a phrase he has said countless times in his life, and the majority of it was for the man currently on his lap and destroying every wall he has ever built.

“I love you, too.”

There was moment of silence, of them staring into each other’s eyes, before Price pulled away and got off Nik’s lap.

“Go clean up so we can eat. I’m starving.”

Nik laughed and did as he was told. As he strip himself of his clothes and went to shower, he couldn’t help but smile and think about how much he adores these moments.

#call of duty #modern warfare #cod nikolai #john price #ficlet #drabble #pricenik #ask #thanks for the ask <3

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ratatoast · 3 months

Text

Son coeur est le tien

Alastor x Reader qpr (general headcanons)

a/n: halfway through writing this, i realised that maybe my idea of a qpr might be different than someone else's haha,,, also, this is the very first time I've written for hazbin hotel lol (and should i mention that english isn't my first language? haha)

that being said, i hope y'all enjoy this mess :P

also also if y'all would like me to continue writing Alastor qpr (cuz there's def a shortage on that), feel free to send me prompts :)) i obvi wont write nsfw, but other than that, i think anything is fine (?)

Being in a qpr with the radio demon would include…

Long talks over tea/coffee

There’s never any awkward silence between the two of you. You two could be chatting about the most mundane things, and the conversation would still flow perfectly.

He’d definitely learn exactly how you like your hot beverage.

I personally can’t imagine him being an avid coffee drinker tbh, but I don’t think he’d mind if you are one.

Takes your tea parties very seriously, knows all your favourite pastries, puts on some smooth jazz, brings out the fine china, etc

Loves listening to you talking about your day, your current interests, hobbies, etc. Even if the topic itself isn’t all that interesting to him, he’ll still listen to you.

The both of you love gossiping with each other. Neither of you will admit it to others though.

Petnames

You very rarely hear your given name come out of this man’s mouth.

He never calls you anything that he deems too sickly sweet, usually sticks to dear, sweetheart, or darling.

If he’s having a particularly great day, he might call you love, but that doesn’t happen very often.

Constant praises & words of affirmation

I think words of affirmation is one of his main love languages.

He constantly showers you with praises, telling you how gorgeous you look, how witty your jokes are, etc.

We all know that this man is a charmer, however his compliments to you are more than just empty words… most of the time :p

Do keep in mind that this man is a master manipulator tho, so he isn't above using sweet talk to get what he wants.

Playful banter that keeps you on your toes

He loves a good back and forth, especially if his darling is a particularly witty individual.

The two of you can turn any conversation into a battle of words.

However, if you take it too far, he’s not afraid to put you in your place with a couple of sharp words, aimed to hurt.

But most of the time it’s just good fun :)

Never having to so much as lift a finger

He’s very big on acts of service.

Forget about opening doors or pulling out chairs for yourself.

He takes being a gentleman very seriously, especially when it comes to you.

But not only is he a gentleman, he’s also a powerful overlord.

So if you ever need anything, be that a new pair of shoes, or getting rid of a particularly nasty demon, consider it done.

Being his closest confidant

We all know that Alastor has many acquaintances, however he falls short on meaningful connections.

He doesn’t let people get too close to him, and it is sort of understandable why.

You are one of the only exceptions to that.

You know more about this man than all of hell combined.

It took a while for him to open up to you, and even longer until he started telling you about his past.

He’s the kind to drop hints about himself and let you figure out the rest.

Trust goes a long way with him, I think he’d be more open to sharing his plans and such with someone that he knows won’t question his every move.

Even so, there’s still a lot that you don’t know about him, but you’ll just have to take what you can.

You can dress however you want… as long as it fits his taste

He’s not all too picky about what you wear.

Contrary to popular belief, he wouldn’t expect you to be in full glam 24/7.

If you like more revealing clothes, well, he’ll just have to make sure that anyone that dares to as much as look at you the wrong way is taken care of.

That being said, looking well put together is a must.

You represent him in a way, and he expects you to look the part.

He can’t have you wandering the streets of hell in rags that not even the lowest sinners would wear.

Absolutely no modern technology allowed

Do I even need to explain this?

He’d rather be safe than sorry when it comes to the possibility of Vox messing with you.

You are never truly alone

Alastor would make sure to accompany you on your outings as much as his schedule allows it.

But let’s be real, he’s a very busy man.

He makes sure that a few of his shadows keep an eye on you though, even in his absence.

I don’t think your personal strength matters in this case, as I’ve mentioned before, there’s very little that this man wouldn’t do for you, especially when it comes to your personal safety.

Lets you get closer to him than anyone else

This time, I’m talking about physical closeness.

We all know that he isn’t big on physical touch.

However, I feel like you could get away with a lot more than others.

When the two of you are walking somewhere, it’s not unusual for him to offer you his arm.

When you’re standing next to him, he sometimes rests his hand on your back, although that is often a subconscious thing.

If you’re having a particularly rough day, he isn’t too opposed to letting you hug him.

You can also get away with laying on his lap sometimes, and if he’s feeling exceptionally gracious, he might even pet your hair.

PDA is definitely a big no-no, on one hand he has an image to protect, but I also just don’t think he’d be too comfortable with showing his more vulnerable side in public.

As for kisses… if you haven’t seen each other in a while, he might greet you with a kiss on your hand, but that’s as far as it ever goes.

He’s not a very touchy-feely person, so if that bothers you… good luck finding someone better than the radio demon ;)

me af tbh lmao

anway, thanks for reading pookies mwah (slash platonic lol)

#alastor #radio demon #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader #alastor headcanons #queer platonic relationship #whew tbh i never thought that i would finish this #but i did my best #sorry for the french in the title btw lol #couldnt help myself

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twst-drabbles · 2 months

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Floyd 10

Summary: Sometimes when Crowley irritates you, you like to throw Floyd right at him.

(Really like the thought of slinging this eel around like a ferret.)

Ever since Crowley installed a number of automatic systems that basically did his chores for him, he's been coming over more and more often out of sheer boredom. He pops over in your house unannounced, hogs your television when you want to use it, and has even taken over a lot of your chores just as you were in the mood to do them.

And right now, he's watering your berry bushes like he didn't take the hose from your hand.

"Neglecting your berry bushes like this, how awful!" Crowley complained loudly like you weren't right there in your backyard, splashing your feet about with Floyd chasing after your toes. "But, because I am very kind, I shall do it for you at almost no cost!"

You pinched Floyd between your ankles and threw him to the end of the pond. He flailed and squealed as he went sailing.

You yelled back, "No Crowley, you're not watching your shows on my TV! And I'm not making you snacks!"

He has his own television! And you know he can make his own snacks! You've seen him on a cooking show once at 1 AM! He knows this stuff! He doesn't need you to do any of this. And besides, when he gets too into whatever drama he got himself into, he whoops and hollers just as you're about to enter the realm of sleep.

Seriously, you already have issues with sleeping at a consistent time and this bird-brained man is not making things better for you. You have things to do! Pets to take care of and entertain when their solo enrichment wasn't enough.

"Oh come on," Crowley scoffed in that way that never fails to irritates you. That specific scoff like you're some silly kid that's claiming things for themselves because they haven't digested the concept of sharing. "Don't tell me you have forgotten basic manners. You haven't been an adult for that long and already you don't want to show appreciation for all these things I'm doing for you."

"I don't need you to do shit for me, Old Crow," your whisper came out as a hiss.

Crowley was struck by nickname he probably thought was dead on your tongue. "Old-!"

"What I need from you," you smiled and dunked your entire arm into the pond. You grabbed Floyd just as he was about to nip at your calves. "Is for you to get a hobby!"

And like a rocket being launched, you threw Floyd directly to the back of Crowley's head. You may have thrown this eel one too many times. His posture was perfectly straight, arms sticking right out like he's one of those superheroes in a cartoon, and his face was perfectly pensive as though you're sending him off on a mission.

You didn't really mean for him to land perfectly on the back of Crowley's head. You just wanted Floyd to get, like, around his back but oh well. Too late now.

Floyd gripped his teeth and claws into Crowley's hair just as he tipped forward at the new weight.

"What in-" Then, Floyd slipped his tail under Crowley's collar, then whipped it around with no mercy! "Mmmah!"

"Ah, Floyd's slime wiping attack," you noted with a chuckle. You've been victim of that move a few times before. You're pretty sure it's not any sort of territory marking so much as he wants to gross people out. "I am not sorry."

Seriously, just because he's bored, Crowley thinks he can annoy you and not face any of your antics. If he wants to spend time with you so much, he should at least call or text ahead. Or go hang out with literally anyone else in this neighborhood. There's not a single person here that doesn't know him by name.

"Get him off!" Crowley sprinted right past you, trying to grab Floyd but his poor hands are covered in slime, "Get him off!"

"Hmm," you splashed around the pond some more. "Nah."

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst-drabbles #twst-drabbles exclusive #drabble #octavinelle #floyd #floyd leech #house pet au #reader insert

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sh0tanzz · 3 months

Text

wonbin as your boyfriend based on astrology !

(reminder that this for fun and astrology is something I study for a hobby, these are all inferences based off of observations and not exact fact unless I knew him myself !!)

warnings: small mention of suggestive innuendo but nothing extremely graphic I'll only do NSFW asks if requested.

Pisces Sun : Honestly I knew from the jump when I first started to stan Riize that Wonbin would be a water sign 😭, people claim that pisces men are toxic+manipulative etc. However EVERY sign is capable of toxicity/negative behaviors so I will not feed into those stereotypes. As a boyfriend he'd be pretty shy in the beginning, before you two even dated he would probably stalk your socials and eavesdrop in your convos to gather info before even actually talking to you. He's be pretty...delusional LMAO ! especially with his venus in pisces, you could post a song on your notes and he'll think to himself... "she wants me.." yet wont text you until his confidence was high enough. Ngl he might be slightly flakey, he'd take a min to respond at times and might not be super precise when planning things out for the two of you.

Libra Moon: This makes me feel like he'd be pretty considerate and would thoroughly think out the pros and cons before doing anything just to avoid upsetting you and to ensure your comfort. He could be very observant on the reciprocity of the relationship so if he feels like things aren't even or fair he might retaliate, for example if he feels like you're distancing himself he might take a step back as well. Also do NOT make him question your feelings for him because he will FLEEE THE COUNTRY libra moons take their love and kindness seriously and will feel upset and even embarrassed when taken for granted .

Aquarius Mercury: This placement makes me giggle knowing he couldn't keep up with the whole "cold mysterious guy" persona SM tried giving him 😭. He'd be goofy especially in private and would use his wit to flirt. Would most definitely mess with you and rile you up just for jokes. In a recent vid I've seen he said he'd play/joke around since he's relatively shy to break the ice and it seems super true to me. Would also use music to communicate or send you songs pretty frequently.

Pisces Venus : Siri play Dangerously in love 2 by Beyonce !! Venus in pisces can be soo sweet. He'd love you unconditionally and for your authentic true essence. He could be pretty clingy, tagging a long as much as he can and will want your attention and this paired with his Libra moon points towards him wanting to impress you/get praised. Once again would love to bond over music. The gifts he'd give you would be things that make you feel special and customized to the info he knows about you. He'd be literally stuck and severely down bad once he fully develops feelings. Would plan dates with an aesthetic touch and would want romantic moments between you two to have a "straight out of a movie" feel to it. He would also fall very hard very fast. He'd also want to have a sense and feeling of being "taken care of" since there's sm venus influence in his chart and a lack of domineering energy. Downside he can be too lost in the glitz and glamour of the relationship that he ends up not acknowledging or downplaying the problems in the relationship or even his own red flags.

Taurus Mars : He may not be super direct or would want to take certain things slow during the beginning of the relationship since Taurus values its boundaries as well as comfort and hates to be rushed. Before the relationship even begins he might be a bit hesitant to even approach or out his feelings unless he was 100% confident or sure. Taurus rules the neck, throat/vocal cords, and shoulders. Sssooo he may enjoy receiving neck kisses/hickies, kisses along his shoulder or even massages along his neck and shoulder line or would try to do that to you. Similar to Gemini mars he also may find your voice as a sensual turn on and very attractive and would try to hear it often.

Other Aspects:

Moon/Mercury trine: Would most definitely remember facts about yourself that you've told him especially those he deems important to you. He'd also remember the nostalgic moments between you two

Mercury/Neptune conjunct: Generally sensitive and it can show in how he communicates especially in high tension or stressful moments in the relationship

Mars/Uranus sextile: Random moments where he's very spontaneous and will require a lot of freedom and could feel suffocated within the relationship if not given time to himself

Potential Toxicity: (reminder that any/everyone is capable of being toxic and everyone has negative traits these could be POTENTIALLY true)

Venus/Pluto square: His feelings can become quite intense and he can become extremely possessive as well as SUPER jealous to the point his partner might feel constricted and like he's their shadow. Can also be super sensitive and take things that you might not find as deep very personal.

Hope you enjoyed, I might do Sungchan or Anton next :P

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camilleroses-blog · 6 months

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the meet cute

pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader

genre: fluff

formula1wagsss daniel ricciardo spotted with mystery woman in monza!

riccforthewin WHO?????

dannybadger3 GUYS WHAT.

justaninchidentlol are the ricciardo fans okay rn?

honeybadger33333 i can speak for almost all of us... no.

i met daniel at a friends party about 3 years ago. everyone was talking about the formula 1 driver that had decided to drop in. i wasn’t a huge f1 fan but i was caught up on the basics of the sport.

the party was loud with flashing lights and people everywhere. i started to get a bit overwhelmed with all of it so i headed outside to the balcony. i leaned against the railing and looked up at the stars. i was listening to the loud music blasting through the walls when i heard the door to the balcony open. i looked back and it was a man with dark curly hair and a look in his eyes that just made your heart melt on the spot. he gave me a friendly smile, “hey” he said as he walked over to the railing, about 5 feet away from me. i gave him a smile and looked back up at the stars.

“beautiful night isn’t it?” he asked with an australian accent. “gorgeous” i replied. i looked over at him to take some time to analyze his face. handsome. absolutely charming. “i’m guessing you’re the f1 driver?” i asked. “i like to think of myself as a dancer but yeah driving is one of my many hobbies” he said ever so seriously. i laughed. “what gave it away?” he asked. you weren’t exactly sure what clicked in your mind, it was just something about him and how he carried himself. i shrugged and turned to face him. “i’m daniel” he said as he walked closer and extended his hand. “y/n” i said as i extended my hand to shake his.

we continued to talk until almost all of the party goers were gone. suddenly, a guy came stumbling onto the balcony like he was looking for someone. “DANNY!” he yelled. like i said before i wasn’t super immersed in the f1 world but i knew who max verstappen was…. everyone did… the young rising star. my eyes widened when i realized who it was. daniel saw my reaction and his jaw dropped. “you didn’t know who i was but you know who he is???” he asked in utter shock. he was lowkey jealous lol. “oh cmon. its you know…. its max verstappen!” i replied trying to explain myself. “oh cmon its daniel ricciardo!!!” danny said as he pointed to himself. i shushed him as max approached us.

“hey max. big fan-“ i started, but was interrupted by daniel, “liar.” i elbowed him and continued on. “i know you’re completely wasted right now but do you think you could sign my arm?” i asked. daniel was taken aback, mouth open, eyebrows raised. “of courseee!” he slurred. “great! now i just need to find a pen-” i said just as max whipped one out from his back pocket. “mate-” daniel started. “magic!” max said as he displayed his pen that he apparently took from inside the house in an attempt to possibly steal it?

he signed the outer part of my forearm. i turned to daniel after he was done. “no way. THE daniel ricciardo??? holy shit!” i acted out. he smiled and shook his head. “you’re my favorite f1 driver!” i continued on. “hey!” max said. “shush verstappen” i said and turned back to danny “ah yes i love meeting my fans” he said. “can you sign my arm?!?!” i over exaggerated. “i would absolutely love to” he said as he took the pen and signed the inner part of my forearm along with some smiley faces and also added his number. what a slick guy. i smiled and my face probably turned red when i saw his number being written out. “mr ricciardo do you give out your number to all of your fans?” i asked smugly. “how do you know that’s my real number?” he asked. max examined the number. “yep that’s his number” max said. i don’t know what’s more concerning, the fact that max memorized daniel’s phone # or the fact that max was wearing a blonde wig that was poorly brushed.

since i have never met any real celebrities i took a picture with the two of them and we said our goodbyes. i put daniel’s number into my phone and realized that i couldn’t stop smiling.

i posted the photo the next day and decided to crop daniel out a bit so it only showed half his face while the photo focused on me and max in the wig. some friendly fire. soon after i posted it was liked by and commented on by max and danny.

yourusername: me and the legend

tagged: @ maxverstappen1 @ danielricciardo

danielricciardo this is not okay

danielricciardo i don’t think you got the chance to finish your caption. its supposed to say “me and the legendary daniel ricciardo + this random chick”

danielricciardo i demand an apology aimed to your followers for depriving them of my full beauty

yourusername i formally apologize to my followers that were wrongfully deprived of the true beauty of daniel ricciardo. i am ashamed of my actions. pls forgive me :(

maxverstappen1 …i do not remember this

yourusername thank you for signing my arm max!

maxverstappen1 you’re welcome!

#daniel ricciardo #dr3 #daniel ricciardo x reader #dr3 x reader #F1 #Formula 1 #f1 x reader #max verstappen #mv33 #red bull f1

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wito-chan-bla-bla · 4 months

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Yandere!(Y/N), who falls in love with Gojo the first time she sees him at a meeting of all the sorcerer families. She stands behind the children of the ruling branch of the family and peeks over their shoulders to look at the "great heir of the Gojo clan". As soon as their eyes meet, she giggles in embarrassment and starts looking at the floor, feeling her heart start pounding faster.

Yandere!(Y/N), who was never taken seriously and especially didn't want anything. An ordinary child who was made into a servant for more "promising family members". She should have lived a quiet and boring life somewhere closer to the "bottom", but as soon as her eyes met the sky balls, she couldn't help but think, " What a cute boy… I feel like I can't stop looking at him."

Yandere!(Y/N), who tries to find Gojo with her eyes every time she and her "master" visit the Gojo estate. Just looking at a beautiful boy makes (Y/N) feel confused and feel her heart beating faster. In her ordinary, boring life, there was finally something she truly wanted.

Yandere!(Y/N), who is looking for any ways to see the cute face of her beloved boy again. A heavy box of weapons should be delivered to his estate? (Y/N) ready to help! The wife of the head of the family goes to Gojo`s to arrange a marriage with her daughter? (Y/N) is already carrying a coat and a bag with all the necessary things for her! Is the heir of her family looking for a friend to train with? "Master, Satoru Gojo-sama is the best choice!"

Yandere!(Y/N), for whom it is not enough just to look at the boy. She's looking for ways to get closer to him.

Yandere!(Y/N), who suddenly realizes that she has no other desires than to make Gojo laugh. She wants to be close to him, hug his small body, poke his chubby baby cheeks and eat sweets with him! Any hobbies that used to somehow brighten up her life as a "non-talented sorcerer" fade into the background when (Y/N) begins to do everything to become stronger.

Yandere!(Y/N), who spends days and nights trying to stop being a "servant" and become a "full member of the family". In a small child's head, plans appear that are too cruel and complex to be invented by an ordinary, adequate child.

Yandere!(Y/N), who smiles at Gojo every time she and her "master" arrive at his manor. She secretly leaves sweet gifts for her beloved boy. She always bakes them herself, with thoughts of him, of his wonderful smile. But even when she sees the fruits of her own labor in the trash, all she feels is that her heart is pounding faster. "He noticed me. I just need to get better so that I can meet his needs and high demands."

Yandere!(Y/N), who whispers nasty things in her "master's" ear every time they return to their manor. "Master, let me fix your clothes. I've heard from the maids that you look very untidy for a family heir. They say you're a disgrace to Gojo-sama by being around him." "Master, I have written down what you will need to repeat for the next meeting. You made a lot of mistakes in the tasks. I hope Gojo-sama wasn't disappointed in you as much as sensei was." "Master, I heard that Gojo-sama hates cats. This explains why he has this face every time you talk about the Princess-sama. I think you need to find another topic to talk about with him."

Yandere!(Y/N), who secretly smiles as she watches two young sorcerers yell at each other. She's enjoying Gojo's loud voice, a fight with whom was the expected outcome after everything (Y/N) said to her master. All this time, she was just waiting for her words-firewood to ignite a flash of hatred.

Yandere!(Y/N), who doesn't go to comfort her master after they get home. She goes to the head of the family to "beg for his forgiveness." She bumps her forehead against the floor, trying to hide her smile. "I'm d-deeply sorry, my master! I should have kept a better eye on the young master, then he wouldn't have fallen out with the heir of the Gojo clan! I'm begging you, let me go there and apologize for our entire family! I will accept whatever punishment they have prepared for young master or our entire family!"

Yandere!(Y/N), who almost faints when she sees Gojo's look of discontent and disdain. "H-he... he's only looking at me! All his attention... is mine!" She sits on her knees and begs for forgiveness, and when there's a long pause, she looks up, only to see the question in the heavenly eyes that she likes so much. "I don't care about that jerk. You'd better tell me... were you the one who made all those cookies that the maids threw away?"

Yandere!(Y/N), who promises to bury the maids and those who gave them such an order alive in the ground. Her heart breaks when she finds out that her favorite boy didn't eat her cookies not because he didn't like them. She quietly admits that it's really her who's been making sweets all this time.

Yandere!(Y/N), who blushes profusely and almost faints when her cute boy kneels in front of her, leans close to her ear and whispers softly: "I'll invite your stupid master here again if you bring me some chocolate chip cookies."

Yandere!(Y/N), who bites the sleeve of her yukata as she walks to the car so as not to yell at the entire estate. She feels happy tears appear in her eyes, and her face is the same color as the blood that has just been spilled. "He was so close to me! And he only talked to me! And his breath! His breath smells so good!.."

Yandere!(Y/N), who shows the head of her family that she is no longer the "useless girl" that she was. She becomes a full-fledged member of the family and begins to train with normal teachers. And even if that wasn't her ultimate goal, she's glad that other sorcerers are beginning to respect her now.

Yandere!(Y/N), who brings Gojo the most delicious and fresh cookies she can make. She watches with rosy cheeks as her beloved boy enjoys sweets and giggles softly with happiness. "He doesn't need to know that I put some of my own saliva in it."

Yandere!(Y/N), from whom Gojo asks for more sweet snacks because he really liked the previous ones. "It's so delicious! What's your secret?" "I just added a little of my love... of cooking."

Yandere!(Y/N), who regretfully says that she can't see him often because she now attends training sessions. Her cute boy is so in love with her cooking that he asks her to come train with him instead of her young master.

Yandere!(Y/N), who bites her lip until it bleeds to keep from laughing with happiness. When she's in the car, she bites through her sleeve because she's gripping it too hard with her teeth. She feels like her heart is about to jump out of her chest with happiness.

Yandere!(Y/N), who constantly goes to Gojo with sweets to train with him. She can't focus on what the teacher is saying because she's constantly looking at her favorite boy. "He's so close! My heart is beating too loud! When we hugged, I could smell his clothes and neck! It smells so good! And those eyes? They are so beautiful! And this skin? So soft and pleasant to touch! I want to hug him and not let go!"

Yandere!(Y/N), who can't hide her joy when Gojo reveals that he wants her to move into his estate. "I'm tired of waiting for my cookies! I want you to make sweets for me every day! You can be my playmate... or something like that."

Yandere!(Y/N), who smiles widely and blushes when she hears these words. She instantly covers her face and tries to hide her genuine reaction, but Gojo grabs her hands and forces her to look at him. Her heart is about to explode at the cute expression she sees in front of her. Her favorite boy sticks out his tongue and squeezes his eyes shut like a kitten when he says, "You'd better hurry up and agree before I want you to be my maid."

Yandere!(Y/N), who would love to become a maid to touch Gojo's clothes (which he will only be wearing or has already worn), help him change, bring him food, and comb his hair. But if she can become his friend and eventually start hugging him, then (Y/N) won't turn down the opportunity!

Yandere!(Y/N), who finds the maids who threw away her sweets and does everything possible to get them fired without reference. When she talks to them before and hears something like "we were worried about Gojo-sama's safety", she suddenly realizes that she doesn't feel anything. She doesn't care about the fate of other people at all, as long as it's not her favorite boy.

Yandere!(Y/N), who spends her childhood near Gojo. They eat, play, study, and sometimes sleep together. ((Y/N) always sniffs the little sorcerer's hair and admires how he, the boy, always smells delicious). Gradually (Y/N) calms down and begins to control her emotions around Gojo, she no longer smiles or laughs like a maniac when he praises her after school or calls her to play in the garden. She just smiles beautifully and blushes every time the boy is around.

Yandere!(Y/N), who makes the same wishes for every holiday. "I want Gojo-kun to be happy." "I want me and Gojo-kun to have another good year together." "I want Gojo-kun to hug me more often."

Yandere!(Y/N), who feels that even the skin of her head turns red when she mentally utters her most cherished dream when she turns fourteen: "I w-want... I want to be Gojo-kun`s wife..."

Yandere!(Y/N), who always pretends to be a cute girl in front of Gojo's parents, elders, and servants in the manor. She smiles and says hello, is always polite and hardworking, apologizes and is never rude. With every smile she gives to people she doesn't like or love, something bright dies in her, leaving only emptiness. A void that only Satoru Gojo can fill.

Yandere!(Y/N), who decides that it doesn't need anyone but "the best". With each passing year that she spends side by side with Gojo, she realizes that she will never, ever find someone like him again. Satoru Gojo is too perfect to be true. (Y/N) admires his looks, strength, abilities, techniques, and of course, charming personality! She knows she's in love, but it's not really love.

Yandere!(Y/N), whose silly childish wish "I want to look at him forever" turns into "I only want him to be mine." "I will treat him the way he deserves to be treated. He's a god. And I will pray for him for the rest of my life… How nice it would be... for your god to be yours alone."

Yandere!(Y/N), who shares Gojo's hatred of the elders, even though she doesn't really care about them at all. (Although she is grateful that they exist, because they are part of her plan.) She criticizes their decisions and always finds disadvantages in everything they do. When she meets old people, she always supports them, shows them her best personality traits to make them believe that she is the perfect person to keep as close to Gojo as possible.

Yandere!(Y/N), who even stops sniffing the handkerchief she stole from Gojo when she learns the unexpected news. She looks at the girl who has been sent to be the bride of her beloved boy with a twitching eye.

Yandere!(Y/N), who greets her with a big smile and gives her a tour of the estate. She quickly learns that the "bride" is from faraway lands and has never actually left her estate. "Everything around you may be strange, but don't worry! I'm here to help you! I'm Gojo-kun's best friend, so I have to take care of his fiancee!"

Yandere!(Y/N), who feels nothing when she watches her boy's fiancee get eaten alive by a curse. As she stands there with the cursed tool in her hands, something finally dies inside her. But she even likes it. She hears the screams and pleas for help and only closes her eyes. "I wonder what Gojo-kun is doing?"

Yandere!(Y/N), who gets rid of the other "brides" and leaves no traces behind. Poisoned. Thrown off a cliff. Destroyed by a curse. Driven mad by moral pressure. Cut into small pieces and buried on the other side of the city. No one can even assume that the "good girl (Y/N)" is to blame for their deaths.

Yandere!(Y/N), who calms Gojo, who is clearly in shock from the deaths that have occurred. "You're not cursed, Gojo-kun. Maybe fate is just trying to give you a sign? You deserve better! Besides, you're too young to get married! Let's run away after curfew and eat some ramen instead of worries!"

Yandere!(Y/N), who rejects marriage proposals from sorcerers from other families. She even breaks one newcomer's arm because he refused to leave. "How, how dare you think you're better than Gojo-kun?!"

Yandere!(Y/N), who almost dies when she realizes that her favorite boy-(teenager) has been watching her humiliate the "possible groom" all this time. "If he finds out, t-that I killed all those girls!.. He'll never, ever want to be with me! What if he thinks I'm being too rude? If he gives up on me and I can never be his wife?!."

Yandere!(Y/N), who lets out a sigh of relief when Gojo laughs at her "fiance" and calls him a "weakling".

Yandere!(Y/N), who goes to school with her favorite boy so that he "doesn't get too bored". In fact, she's going to keep an eye on him... and not just at the request of the elders.

Yandere!(Y/N), who easily wins the hearts of teachers and her classmates thanks to the "good girl" mask she has developed over the years. Now no one will guess if she leaves someone from the staff or students of the school to be eaten by a curse.

Yandere!(Y/N), who sneaks into Gojo's room every day to play games with him, read and sleep together. She assures him that she just missed him during the day. And even if that's partly true, she uses this time to sniff his sheets and clothes, touch his skin and hair, steal a few items here and there while the sorcerer runs to the store for snacks.

Yandere!(Y/N), who starts hugging Gojo in the middle of the day because "I love my friends so much!". Everyone is used to the fact that she behaves like a cute teenager, and therefore does not comment on what is happening. The young sorcerer only laughs and circles (Y/N) around his axis as he holds her tightly in his arms.

Yandere!(Y/N), who secretly takes photos of her beloved boy as he falls asleep on her shoulder, lap, or chest. She has a separate suitcase from which she made a portable altar in honor of Satoru Gojo. There are many photos of him, objects that he touched with his lips, as well as his personal belongings, such as underwear.

Yandere!(Y/N), who is always there for Gojo when something upsets him. (She won't tell anyone that she watches him every spare second of her time, so she knows exactly when he's sad, lonely, or down.)

Yandere!(Y/N), who shares her first kiss with Gojo, who wants to know how people feel when they kiss. This happens at the next "sleepover", the sorcerer suddenly asks a question that makes (Y/N) blush very much and hide more strongly behind the book. She feels like her lungs are about to burst from how hard her heart is beating.

Yandere!(Y/N), who doesn't close her eyes when Gojo leans in and kisses her. She would never forget that moment when they kissed in the light of a single candle so that they wouldn't be caught by the teachers. (Y/N) quickly licks her lips as soon as the sorcerer turns away in embarrassment.

Yandere!(Y/N), who then wants to feel more of her favorite boy. She says they could try different things before getting into a "real adult romantic relationship" so it wouldn't be so awkward. Gojo agrees with a small nod, and (Y/N) can't contain her joy, jumping on top of him and hugging him with a happy laugh.

Yandere!(Y/N), who treats Gojo like they're boyfriend and girlfriend. Everyone thinks their relationship hasn't changed, but it's not true. Yes, she still brings him food, takes care of his health, and does weird, funny things with him that annoy other people, but that's not all. (Y/N) kisses him on the lips and cheeks whenever she can, she hugs him and lets him touch her where "friends" can't touch each other.

Yandere!(Y/N), who is happy to share her first time with Gojo. She would welcome any treatment of her body as long as it was done by her favorite sorcerer, but her heart melts when she sees an insecure Gojo standing over her, gently touching her body and asking if he's hurting her.

Yandere!(Y/N), whose love reaches its peak. When Gojo falls asleep on her chest, exhausted from his first time, she leans over and whispers into his hair, "One day I'll be your wife and we'll have lots and lots of babies. I won't accept any other outcome after what we've done."

Yandere!(Y/N), who manipulates the elders who trust her after so many years. She says that all the brides they have chosen for Gojo are not suitable for him, that they will disgrace the clan or be bad wives. She makes incredible arguments every time, the old people just can't argue with her.

Yandere!(Y/N), who easily hides her joy when the elders offer her to be a bride for Gojo. She just hums softly, bows to them, and says, "If it allows his clan and the world to flourish."

Yandere!(Y/N), who walks around with a big smile all week, hugs Gojo and can't stop being happy, as soon her favorite boy will belong to her and only her. When people ask her what happened, she just says that she has a premonition of something good.

Yandere!(Y/N), who pretends to be genuinely surprised when she learns of the elders' choice. She watches with a slightly heavy heart as Gojo shouts curses at the old men and hits the walls. However, (Y/N) calms down as soon as she hears that her cute boy is just afraid that she will die just like the previous brides.

Yandere!(Y/N), who hugs him and comforts him, promises that she will live, live for him.

Yandere!(Y/N), who listens blankly as Gojo says that he will do anything to cancel this engagement. "I want you to be happily married to the person you truly love, (Y/N)-chan! What the hell are these old farts doing deciding who you should marry?!"

Yandere!(Y/N), who asks Gojo's mother, who loves her very much, to hurry up the wedding so that her cute boy doesn't have time to ruin anything. The woman who has always dreamed that her son would find a loving and understanding bride, easily agrees. After all, this is (Y/N), their "sweet good girl"!

Yandere!(Y/N), who hides a smirk in a thick veil as she walks down the aisle to Gojo, who blushes and looks embarrassed. "It looks like someone isn't telling me how they feel, my dear." (Y/N) enjoys his shyness and gives him a loving kiss when the time comes.

Yandere!(Y/N), who sits on the bed and smiles inwardly as Gojo stomps angrily next to her, in the large bedroom that was given to the newlyweds. "H-how could they force us to get married so early?! Have they gone completely mad? Ha, these old men, I'll kill them, I'll kill them..."

Yandere!(Y/N), who slaps her knees, stopping Gojo and asking him to calm down, lie down in a familiar place and just enjoy a head massage. Her favorite boy agrees, hurries to sit on the bed and put his head with this silk hair on (Y/N)`s lap.

Yandere!(Y/N), who gradually begins to touch his body in a less innocent way, until eventually she hears those pleasant moans that always delight her ear so much. "I want him to experience pleasure and happiness. I want to be the cause of these feelings."

Yandere!(Y/N), who ends up on top of Gojo, kissing him the way she always wanted to. Her heart sings with love for the man who made her get better and worse at the same time. She kisses him with her tongue, passing along with her saliva an aphrodisiac that she surreptitiously took into her mouth while Gojo was lying on her lap.

Yandere!(Y/N), who makes her beloved boy forget about all the problems and takes control of the situation by removing a heavy, expensive kimono from his shoulders. She covers his skin with fleeting kisses before starting to leave her little marks here and there. "He's so beautiful… But he will be even more beautiful if everyone knows that he is mine."

Yandere!(Y/N), who doesn't use any protection during their wedding night because she wants to feel her lover. When Gojo, oblivious to lust and passion, finishes for the first time that night, (Y/N) just smiles and giggles, glancing at the calendar. Now is the best time to have a baby.

Yandere!(Y/N), who looks calmly at Gojo, who gets up in the morning and stares in horror at what's left of their night. While the sorcerer yells that he will kill the elders because "they put an aphrodisiac in our drinks!", (Y/N) hopes that she was able to get pregnant with his child.

Yandere!(Y/N), who sends Gojo's parents on a short vacation so that she and her husband can "try themselves as clan leaders."

Yandere!(Y/N), who kills the elders since they are now useless. Plus, they're causing problems for her husband! They deserve the cruelest possible death for making her beloved boy frown! What if it causes wrinkles? Unacceptable!

Yandere!(Y/N), who announces her pregnancy and finally tells the most important person in her life that she loves him. Everyone in the manor loves her, Gojo's parents are also crazy about her, she has a strong technique, and her family is relatively well-known, so there's no point in her breaking up this marriage anyway. (Y/N) is ready for rejection, but she still hopes that her cute boy will make the right choice.

Yandere!(Y/N), who pats Gojo on the back and comforts him as he hugs her and sobs into her shoulder. "I al-lso… I love you too! This child... I will do anything to protect our little one!.. And you, my dear."

Yandere!(Y/N), who a few years later kisses the cheek of her son, who is a complete copy of her husband. Gojo walks next to her and complains, saying that he would like his child to be at least a little like his mother. She looks at her husband, kisses him on the cheek, and says with a chuckle:: "I'll give you as many babies as you want. I want to create a big family with you, full of happiness, joy and love." "But you will still love me, your wonderful husband, right?" (Y/N) smiles, pressing her cheek to the forehead of her son, whom she loves incredibly much, because he is not just the child of her and her beloved boy, but also a complete copy of her husband. "Of course, Satoru-chan. I will love you more than anything else in the world."

Yandere!(Y/N), who, despite the "quiet life", catches every curse, every sorcerer who dared to offend her husband or just cross his path. Even if her husband is the most powerful sorcerer, she won't allow anyone, anyone, anyone to treat him other than as a god.

Because yandere!(Y/N) loves nothing more than her cute little boy.

#yandere!reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x fem!reader #fem!reader #gojo #satoru gojo #satoru x reader

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genericpuff · 7 months

Text

saw this pop up on /r/UnpopularLoreOlympus and I-

Full analysis post that inspired this post can be read here, it's a good read, go check it out!

Now my natural reaction to not assume the worst (shocking, I know) is that what Rachel's actual intention behind making Leto a sun god was due to her being Apollo's mother and her clearly having a stronger relationship with him rather than Artemis. I'm abiding by Occam's Razor here, it's the simplest answer and it keeps my brain from getting too riled up right off the bat LMAO

There's a lot of emphasis put on Apollo being the god of the sun in LO, despite the fact that Apollo is one of the MOST prolific gods in the Greek pantheon, Rachel only ever really focuses on him being god of the sun with some loose references to him also being the god of music (as we see with him playing his lyre). There's really no real referencing to him being the god of medicine though (aside from that scene of him condom-bandaging Persephone's hand in Episode 22 ?? which is silly now in hindsight because she's a fertility goddess who can heal herself but ok lmao and the fact that Rachel established him as a LITERAL DAD with his doctor son Asclepius which ... just feels weird to have in LO tbh) and there's absolutely no referencing (from what I can find or recall) of him being a protector of the young, god of prophecy (for some reason he just magically gives Kassandra the ability to read prophecies... just so she can read his prophecy ??) or archery. Like, he's shown doing a lot of these things but they come across more as just side hobbies or extensions of him being Artemis' brother (like his archery) rather than aspects of his godliness or domains that he presides over. It's just like yeah, Apollo can shoot arrows and bandage people's hands I guess LMAO

All that said, I can see Rachel deciding to make him primarily the god of the sun and then going "oh! let's make his mom a sun god! then she could be a common enemy for both Persephone and Hades!" because Hades doesn't like sun gods yadda yadda.

But... we know Rachel has used front page Google sourcing in her comic before.

(literally the 'source' was copy pasted from a 2004 study guide for Princeton.edu. And we KNOW this was taken right from the first result because it just says 'www.princeton.edu' with no slug attached, which is what showed up back when we first looked into this, the princeton version was deadass the first result with this definition word for word. She didn't even remove the typo where there's no space between Xenios:"Zeus !!!).

And while a bit more into sus territory rather than outright confirmed like the xenia thing above, there's the whole Metis / Métis theory, that has us wondering if Rachel seriously googled "Metis" on its own and accidentally used Indigenous Métis cultural depictions in her version of Metis, the Greek God.

The fringe in her outfit, finger wings, and dark orange/red color really got my attention the first time I saw her design years ago, because she set off so many, "Wait a minute, is that an Indigenous woman???" bells in my Mi'kmaq/Cree brain LMAO And not even in a bad way, but now it feels a little :/ because of how much her character has been assassinated and how clearly accidental it was for her to look like that.

Of course, there's still a more likely explanation that her design was based on this vase:

But IDK y'all. That vase is very distinctly orange while the character itself is depicted in dark garbs and with light skin, so Metis being distinctly red-toned with finger wings and fringe?

While the Xenia thing is definitively copy pasted from the first search result on Google (literally there's no denying that at this point, Rachel's REALLY bad at doing research and then pretending like she was being smart by sourcing it from a university website... completely ignoring the fact that that website literally hasn't been updated since Rachel was working on The Doctor Pepper Show) the Metis and Leto depictions are definitely a lot more up for debate as to what 'research' Rachel did and whether or not they got confused with something else during her searching.

And really, the whole thing with Leto being a "sun god" doesn't make sense really when you think about it. Why is Leto a sun god? It's not even like you could argue there are "some versions" of the myths where she's a god of the sun, or other translations out there, or whatever vague source that could be used like what has been used for other gods like Hades and Persephone. Leto is not affiliated with the sun in any shape or form. Remove Apollo, her eventual son, who didn't exist when she was born and given the title of 'sun god', and it quickly falls apart as to why she would be a sun god in the first place.

She is a goddess of motherhood though, and that's NEVER mentioned in LO. If anything, Rachel makes her a terrible mom on purpose. Because god knows we can't have anyone in this comic be a good mom except for Persephone and Rhea (who are literally just carbon copies of one another). Basically the only thing Rachel gets right with Leto is the fact that she's a Titan and that she had Apollo and Artemis after sleeping with Zeus. That's it.

Unfortunately, unlike the xenia thing, there's no outright proof of what Rachel's reasoning was behind these designs or sources. So I'm not gonna accuse or outright state it as fact that Rachel confused Metis for Métis or ripped the idea for Leto being a sun god from an anime, because the odds of that being true in any way are fairly low.

But they're never zero.

#lore olympus critical #lo critical #anti lore olympus #antiloreolympus

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mejcinta · 9 months

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Aegon, Aemond and Their Relationship With Power/Arranged Marriage.

Neither Aegon nor Aemond are opposed to incest because it's the culture they've been birthed into. So, I don't think their reaction to Helaena in episode 7 should be viewed as some kind of evidence of their attitude towards incest, but rather about their their relationship with power, which is what arranged marriages in their feudal society are truly all about.

Aegon's approach to an (arranged) marriage is more romantic in the sense of he thinks having things in common is a requirement. He says about Helaena, his betrothed, "We have nothing in common."

This doesn't necessarily mean he loathes his sister. Yes, he does call her an 'idiot' but I think this also goes to show how young and silly he is, just as Helaena is also young in that moment and still occupied with her girlhood hobby of playing with insects.

Aegon's admission speaks to his self awareness because he notices they can't get along and he wants to spare himself and her as well from any misery. After all their parents are in a loveless arranged marriage and if there is one thing Aegon hungers and yearns for truly, it is love, even though it is quite literally the death of duty.

Additionally, he has spent much of his life being starved of love and feeling rejected by his mom and dad for not meeting their expectations well enough. Needless to say the fear that he is unloved by his family seeps down to his siblings even though they might think otherwise of him. Aegon is repelled by duty, for all he knows about it is pain, not love.

Aegon is not as eager to wield power through marriage. After all he has only suffered being seen merely as a chess piece in the game of thrones, and not as a boy that needs his family to be there for him. Therefore, he is understandably resigned and more disinterested in power because it is being forced on him.

Meanwhile, Aemond has a more duty oriented approach to marriage. He is willing to do whatever it takes to grow powerful and be taken seriously in society, especially seeing as he grew up without the ultimate Targaryen symbol of power: a dragon.

Aemond states about Helaena to Aegon, "She is your future Queen," and proceeds to make a comment about strengthening their Valyrian blood etc. In episode 10 he was also well on his way to cement a marriage alliance with House Baratheon so as to add to their army for the upcoming war. He understands what needs to be done in order to obtain the power he so desires for self validation.

Aemond cares little for love for now because, once again, his family has little of it and he doesn't fully grasp it. And what he mistakes for love is attention which is being heaped on Aegon for being the Golden boy i.e the firstborn son.

Aemond feels invisible to his family because of not being 'Targaryen enough'. That is why he spends much of the season in pursuit of power, claims Vhagar, mocks the Strong boys' bastardy and vents about being a mere second son while Aegon, being the first, doesn't need to work half as hard as Aemond does to be noticed or respected.

In a way, both boys are dead to love because of the neglect prevalent in their family while Helaena is in her own world plagued with dreams of her family's destruction. Aegon numbs his pain and pressures by indulging in vanity while Aemond scrapes away at collecting figurative medal after medal so that he can prove his worth, a perfectionist of sorts.

The boys' reaction to the idea of marriage is more about showing us their state of mind and relationship wih power more than it is about loving or hating Helaena.

#hotd analysis #not a ship post #hotd #house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #helaena targaryen #alicent hightower #viserys i targaryen #floris baratheon #borros baratheon #incoherent thoughts

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cooliestghouliest · 3 months

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LOVE ME TWO TIMES, ch. two

(chapter one) (chapter two)

PAIRING: eventual Mungrove x Reader

SUMMARY: Struggling to come to terms with the abrupt abandonment of your father, you’re left with two options – attend an “all girls’ therapeutic boarding academy” that’s really more Bedlam Insane Asylum than trusty reformative school, or move half-way across the country to a small town in Indiana to live with your older brother, Rick. The upheaval of your life in Fresno might just end up being a little star-crossed and a whole lot serendipitous.

WORD COUNT: 8.7k+

SERIES TAGS: angst. some pretty heavy topics in later chapters. just enough fluff to hopefully balance it all out. eventual smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI). not a slow burn; it’s pretty hot and heavy right off the bat. eventual love triangle. neurodiversity. dom/sub undertones (dom!Billy, switch!Eddie, switch!Reader), also bi!Eddie and bi!Reader but confused!Billy. drugs and drug addiction. no use of Y/N (but much use of nicknames and pet names). Reefer Rick is Matthew Lillard circa Senseless. more TBA as the story progresses.

CHAPTER TAGS: unexpected tears. some woeful reminiscing. wisecracking siblings. how Rick and Eddie met. flirting in front of a moody bartender. Eddie has a penchant for being self-deprecating but he tries to be funny about it. oversharing. dehydrated!Eddie 😉 (there’s a tease of f!rec oral here). even more cockblocking. a tinge of tension at the end.

TAG LIST: @babybatlover

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chapter title: Nobody, That’s My Name

Packing up had actually taken three hours, mostly because you were so undecided on what to bring.

Your stomach was in knots with the realization that you’d have to leave some things behind. You wished you could just transport your entire room as it was to Hawkins.

This had been your sacred space since childhood. You were only two when your family made the move from Chicago to Fresno, so this house was really all you’d ever had memories of.

Your room had grown up and changed alongside you, a non-sentient appendage and an outward expression of every new trend and month-long hobby you’d picked up along the way.

“Bean, you good?” Rick’s voice called out from the other side of your closed door.

You’d been seated on your bed — it could have been for a few minutes or half an hour, you weren’t sure. You hadn’t noticed the wet line that rimmed your bottom lashes until you turned to look at your brother as he stepped inside your room. When you blinked, a tear broke free and rolled down your cheek.

“My face that ugly? You gotta cry when you look at me?”

You choked out a laugh, bringing a hand up to wipe your eyes dry. Leave it to Rick to try and lighten the mood. It’s what he’d been doing his whole life – never taking anything too seriously, refusing to get hung up on any emotion other than those aligned with happy hedonism.

You’d always wondered if there was a secret storm that raged somewhere deep inside of him.

“All my stuff isn't gonna fit inside your stupid van,” you said, not bothering to explain further.

You didn’t need to. Rick could read between the lines.

This was going to be the first time you’d left the only home you’d ever known for longer than a sleepover at a friend’s house.

The residence itself would never win any awards for being the greatest of places, but your bedroom, on the other hand — that had a surefire shot.

It was here where your dad had first read you the The Hobbit, the precursor to your love of fantastical tales.

It was here on the floor where you made your first prank call with Cynthia Toomey, your childhood best friend. It was to a teacher whose number had been written on a stall in the girl’s bathroom. It didn’t strike you as odd then why a twelve-year-old would know a much older male teacher’s phone number, but after the man had gotten arrested a few years back for soliciting a minor at a park, it all started to make sense.

It was here where you’d heard Janis Joplin for the first time, a record Rick had mailed you for your fourteenth birthday. Her deep crooning voice scratched at parts of your soul you didn’t even know were itchy.

It was here where you’d first taught yourself how to sew a patch onto your backpack; where you’d first tried on the lipstick and eyeshadow you’d stolen from the vanity in your parent's bedroom, something that resulted in a week's worth of extra chores (according to your mother, it was to teach you "the consequences of petty theft" or whatever); where you’d first experimented with a girl while watching Happy Days, soft tongues and even softer fingers exploring every inch of uncovered skin as Fonzie’s signature “Ayyyy’s” mixed with her breathy moans and your rapid heartbeat.

“I didn’t think I’d care that much about leaving,” you admitted, voice shakier than you’d hoped it would be.

Rick watched you from the doorframe, giving a knowing smile in an attempt to mollify you. “Y’know, you might not believe it, but I couldn’t sleep the first three nights after I left. Kept thinkin’ about how much I missed my bed and the noise the air conditioner made that I used to think I hated.” He quieted momentarily, observing his surroundings. Overflowing plastic bags and opened suitcases stuffed full of clothes, books, vinyls, and random knickknacks were scattered across the floor. “It’s still home, even if we never really wanted it to be.”

Rick walked over to one of the cases. He bent down to zip it up, having to put a foot on the grip to shut it enough so it closed completely. “But you’re gonna make a fuck ton more memories in Hawkins, Bean,” he pledged, grabbing the handle and pulling it towards the door. “We are. Okay?”

You chewed your lower lip and allowed yourself a few more moments of wallowing before heaving a sigh, slapping your thighs with the palms of your hands as you stood.

“Okay. You sap.” You snatched as many full plastic bags off the ground as you could. “The first memory’s gonna be about how much weaker you are compared to me.” You looked down at the single heavy suitcase he was carrying, scoffing lightheartedly. “Only one, Richard? Really? You have another hand. Use it.”

And he did, by bringing his free one up to flip you the bird.

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Although your brother had a spacious purple-painted 1970 Ford Econoline the pair of you could have comfortably slept in, the back of the vehicle was currently filled to the brim with all of your luggage.

Any time the side door had to be slid open for whatever reason, an ample amount of contents came pouring out.

One of your "haunted-as-shit dolls," affectionately dubbed by Rick, had fallen victim to the concrete ground outside of a gas station in Colorado. Its glass eye had popped out and shattered, its arms detaching from its tiny body. You’d gasped in horror at the doll’s demise, smacking Rick on his chest for being so careless.

It was safe to say neither one of you were going to be getting anything from the back of the van until you’d made it to Hawkins to unpack, or else Rick would be forced to face your wrath.

Your possessions were prized, goddammit.

So, one motel stay and thirty-two hours after leaving the WELCOME TO FRESNO sign behind, Rick finally pulled into the driveway of his boathouse.

The orange neon lighting of the van’s dashboard clock read 10:13AM.

You’d been soundlessly sleeping for the last hour of the car ride, having dozed off shortly after Rick had put in a Talking Heads cassette, the G Major melody of This Must Be the Place lulling you into a dreamless nap.

Rick suddenly had the brilliant big brother idea to grant himself the honor of becoming your own personal wake-up alarm.

Putting the car in park, he switched the Talking Heads cassette out for Bad Religion’s How Could Hell Be Any Worse? He skipped to a track titled In the Night, cranked the volume to the max, and started to head-bang and sing along wildly off-key.

You startled awake immediately, arms flailing at nothing as you tried to rapidly blink your eyes open.

When you found Rick performing his solo concert, way too committed to the bit, you refused to laugh at the sight, even if it was your gut reaction. The last thing you wanted to do was encourage him. “Noooo, is this what you’re gonna be like the whole time?” you instead asked with faux abrasiveness, speaking loud enough to be heard over the music.

Rick grinned wide, never faltering in his seated moshing, not until the song came to an abrupt end a few seconds later, when you’d finally had enough and reached a hand over to eject the tape.

“I didn’t want you to have an aneurysm,” you told him plainly with a shrug, in response to his offended look. “I could hear your little brain rattling around up there in that thick skull. I got worried.”

Rick shot a hand up to cover his heart, as if he’d been stabbed. “You wound me, little sister. Deeply and completely.”

He pulled the keys from the ignition and stepped outside, hurrying to the passenger side of the van to slide open the back door. He tried with both hands to stop the cascade of your belongings from spilling out, but failed miserably, clothes and books landing in messy heaps on the driveway.

“Hey, what the fuck!” you called out, hopping down from your seat to start picking up what you could from the pavement, pulling your items to your chest. “Don’t you have any grace?”

Rick pretended to ponder this before saying, “Grace, huh. Think I dated that girl in high school. Don’t have her anymore, nope.” That earned a snort and an eye roll from you.

Rick remembered a time when your brattiness would have annoyed him to no end. He knew it would again, and probably soon, but he was surprised by how fond of it he was right now, how much he missed having you around.

“Once we get all this shit inside,” he started, grabbing two suitcases, filling both hands so he didn’t have to hear you comment about his carrying capabilities (or lack thereof) again, “you can unpack, and we can shower and relax. But then I’ve got plans for tonight.”

He’d begun walking to the front door, you trailing off behind him. “So you’re ditching me the first night I’m here?” you scolded, albeit playfully. You honestly wouldn’t have minded some alone time, being able to start decorating and acquainting yourself with your new abode. Still, you wanted to keep playing the part of bitchy baby sister, a role you hadn’t been able to play in so long but a role you fell right back into, as easy as riding a bike. “That’s very rude, Rick. What a horrible host you are.”

“Not a chance, Bean. Plans for us tonight. You’re comin’ with. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

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He’d told you that he was taking you to some bar called The Hideout. It sounded sleazy, and you’d told him as much. He didn’t argue that, just said there’d be food and drinks and live music. And some guy there he knew that was in the same grade as you.

You didn’t know this, but Rick had a plan for Eddie Munson. He was going to barter with his young metalhead friend: be the lookout for his little sister when Rick wasn’t around, and he’d heavily discount the bulk weed and other goodies Eddie bought from him for the foreseeable future.

“What’s this guy’s name again?” you asked, moving to kick your feet up on the dashboard before Rick swatted your legs down. Again.

He’d told you several times already that sitting like that was one of the most dangerous positions to be in if he got into an accident. Said that your legs would snap and your bones would jam through your body. You thanked him for the visual, then kept doing it.

“Eddie," he answered.

“And what exactly does this Eddie look like…?”

You tried to breach the question with as much nonchalance as you could muster, but the intent behind your inquiry was still obvious: was Eddie attractive?

“Off-limits.”

“Hmm. That’s a weird physical description of someone.”

“I’m serious, Bean. Don’t.”

It wasn’t that Rick didn’t like Eddie.

It was quite the contrary, actually.

Rick had met Eddie the summer of ‘84, outside one of Al Munson’s many, many court hearings, after the elder Munson had mistakenly asked both of them for a ride home.

As an apology, Al invited both Eddie and Rick over to where he was currently freeloading at some guy’s apartment, to smoke a few bowls (that ended up coming from Rick’s personal supply) and order Chinese (that Eddie ended up paying for).

At some point that night, Al had mentioned to Eddie that Rick was the go-to guy for weed and weed-alike.

“Oh, shit, man – you’re Reefer Rick?” Eddie had asked after a particularly rough coughing excursion, having hit the piece a little too harshly.

“Reefer Rick? That’s what the kids are calling me?”

Eddie nodded, handing the bowl off to his dad. “Yeah, you’re kind of like a celebrity. Or a unicorn?” Rick’s brows furrowed deeply at this. Eddie laughed before explaining, “Meaning I very confidently thought you didn’t exist. Figured you were just who the posers from school said they got their shit from as a red herring, so they didn’t get in too much trouble when Hop took their stash.”

“Hop, like, Hopper? Beer-bellied fucking pig asshole Jim Hopper? That motherfucker knows I sell?”

Hopper had been a thorn in Rick’s side since just about the day he’d moved in.

Jim had been pulling Rick over for minor traffic violations almost weekly by that point, and if Eddie was telling the truth, the hard-on Hopper seemed to have for him now made a hell of a lot more sense. The cop was probably trying to catch him with something on him.

Eddie grinned like he was letting his company in on a joke. “Well, he knows Reefer Rick sells. You're just Rick Lipton, my friend."

From that night on, Eddie would stop by Rick’s house twice a month to re-up on his stock. The pair would sometimes get stoned around the fire pit in Rick’s backyard after they made the deal, and Rick soon found out that Eddie was not at all like the hardcore persona he projected to the world. And he definitely wasn’t a magnet for mayhem like his old man.

At heart, Eddie Munson was a total fucking nerd.

He liked mythology and board games and doodling and passionately debating which conspiracy theories he thought would stand the test of time. He often marveled at Rick’s comic book collection, standing at the shelves for an hour or so at times, just browsing the titles that stood out to him. Eddie’s favorites to flip through were Rick’s copies of Twisted Tales and Creepshow.

Rick had briefly thought a handful of times that you and Eddie would probably get along great if the two of you ever met.

But then the thought of just how great you’d possibly get along would get Rick irritated with Eddie for the non-existent relationship the boy didn’t have with a sister he didn’t even know Rick had.

On their last meet-up, Eddie had told him that he and his bandmates would dress up as pirates and paladins and go to the Ren Faire twice a year.

The band. That was another reason Rick was wary of introducing the two of you.

Being in the scene for as long as he had been now, Rick knew many musicians, and he wouldn’t trust nearly any of them around his baby sister.

They weren’t all like Eddie, though. Rick had to admit that.

Sure, the boy was a little rough around the edges, rowdy and flamboyant, but Rick remembered being kind of the same way as a teenager – and he hadn’t ruined the lives of any girls, had he? Not that he knew of at least, or at least not intentionally.

He’d been a bit of a relationship hopper, just desperate for attention when you got to the bottom of it, but Rick had never been disrespectful of women. He’d never forced himself on anyone, never pleaded to turn a “no” into a “yes,” never verbally or physically accosted any of them. Rick couldn’t bring himself to even imagine doing anything like that. He couldn’t imagine Eddie doing any of that either.

Despite cringing at the idea of you and Eddie maybe catching something more than just friendly feelings for one another, Rick still couldn’t think of another person he’d trust more to keep tabs on you when he himself wasn’t around.

But Rick could still at least try to persuade you to see Eddie in just a platonic light.

“He’s a dork, Bean. His favorite talking point is why Gollum is just a misunderstood victim. Doesn’t shut up about how they do the special effects in those gory B-horror movies, ruins the whole fuckin’ movie yapping. Plays lame board games with his little weirdo degenerate friends.”

“First of all, Rick, did you ever even read Lord of the Rings?” you started, throwing your hands up in disbelief, and Rick was sorry he even opened his mouth. “Sméagol is totally just a misunderstood victim. I mean, sure, whatever, he bit off Frodo’s finger, but he was basically the reason Sauron was defeated! It’s all the Ring’s fault. It was evil. It possessed everyone.” You huffed, settling back against the seat as you watched Rick pull into a parking space at what you assumed was The Hideout. “Also, are these things supposed to make me want to talk to this guy less? 'Cause if that’s the case, you’re really good at doing the exact opposite of what you intend.”

Rick gave a classic you move, rolling his eyes.

“Just don’t flirt with him, Bean, damn. Please. It’s, like, my only rule. He’s my… friend. He’s my friend. So just don’t.”

You pushed your lips to the side, stepping out of the car before Rick turned off the ignition.

Did your brother know nothing about you? Being told you weren’t allowed to flirt with this stranger, to even go as far as saying he was ‘off-limits’? You now knew exactly what your plan was for the rest of the night: try to break Rick’s only rule.

Isn’t that what little sisters were for?

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

You knew Rick had said there would be live music, but you definitely weren’t expecting four young men about your age on stage singing nearly spot-on covers of Slayer and Iron Maiden songs.

Rick had gotten the two of you a table towards the back of the bar. He’d bought you a vodka pineapple – which he wasn’t initially intending on doing, at first telling you a Coke was all you were getting, something you were not willing to accept; after a hefty amount of prodding, he moped off to buy you the fruity alcoholic beverage just to get you to stop being so fucking annoying about it.

You were nursing the last few sips, sucking the liquid noisily through the small black straw, when the cute lead singer with the mess of black curls brought his mouth to the microphone.

“You guys have been great, really, all five of you, couldn’t ask for better fans,” he spoke to the sparse crowd. No one clapped or cheered or anything, which made you laugh out loud at the one-sided interaction. “This’ll be our last song for the night – ”

“Freebird!” someone in the audience called out.

“Vince, I tell you every time, we’re not fucking playing Freebird, man — it’s never gonna happen,” tall, dark-haired, and handsome sniped from the stage.

Familiar chords started to echo out from the bassist, the moppy haired drummer hit his wooden drumsticks together in a steady rhythm, and the small-town rockstar began singing Enter Sandman.

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Rick had been chatting with a handful of other bar patrons throughout the duration of the band’s setlist. A few of them — older, biker-looking men — occupied your table as the band on stage started to descend, done for the night.

You heard the jukebox start up, playing some Dolly Parton song, a hilarious juxtaposition from the heavy metal music that had just filled the bar.

Your eyes searched for the lead singer, spotting him heading over to the bar alone, the other boys in the band disappearing off backstage with their instruments in tow.

“Hey, I’m gonna go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back,” you announced, but Rick just nodded and waved you off, in a deep conversation with one of the bearded men about something to do with Special K. The cereal? You didn’t know, and you didn’t care to stay long enough to find out.

What you wanted to do was to talk to this Kirk Hammett lookalike that poured his heart out on the stage of a hodunk bar like he was performing in front of hundreds of thousands of people at Madison Square Garden.

His back was to you when you approached, black ringlets of hair falling down past his shoulders, frizzy from the indoor humidity.

You put your now empty drink down on the bar-top, the clinking sound pulling his attention over to you.

Oh, wow.

He was nice to look at from afar, but even nicer to look at up this closely. His face was flushed, likely from the hour-long show he’d just put on, a small smattering of light chestnut freckles peeking out over alabaster skin. His big brown eyes widened as they took you in, as if he couldn’t believe you were staring at him.

“You were great up there,” you started, not able to contain your smile. “Made me forget I was in Hawkins. Thought I was at Whisky a Go Go or something.”

He looked surprised. Whether that was from your compliment or just from you talking to him in general, you weren’t sure. “Yeah?” he prodded, voice deep and raspy, obviously a bit blown out from the seven or eight songs he’d just belted.

You nodded eagerly. He grinned wide, chest puffing out a bit now. Boys plus ego stroking equaled checkmate, one of your favorite mottos.

“Can I, uh, buy you a drink? Whatever you want… whatever that was,” he pointed to your empty glass, “I can buy you another one of those.”

“Nice try, Munson,” came the voice of the bartender. Your new friend — Munson, supposedly — shot him an annoyed look. “I know you’re only twenty. You can have water or a soda. That’s it, kid.”

The raven-haired metalhead turned his attention back to you, face a bit chagrined. “Foiled by the barkeep. Sorry. You want a soda? Best in the Midwest. You’ll never drink another Coca-Cola like this ever again.”

You laughed. “Sure, I’ll take a Best in the Midwest soda. Coke with grenadine, light ice.”

“You heard the lovely lady,” Munson said to the bartender, obviously enjoying that he now got to order the man around a bit. “Coke with grenadine, light ice. Hop to it.”

“Lucky the boss likes you, you little shit,” the bartender was grumbling, but Munson didn’t seem distressed. Amused, if anything.

You watched as his eyes drifted up to the top of your head. “Now those are cool,” he acknowledged, pointing with a ringed finger.

Your brows furrowed in confusion before realization struck. Oh, yeah! You’d forgotten you’d put on a tiny little headband before leaving for the bar. It was black, but had two small red devil horns poking out on either side.

“Why, thank you,” you said, bringing a hand up to touch one of the points. “Although I wasn’t really going for cool. More along the lines of wicked or evil, maybe. Sinful. Be the reason everybody in here’s thinkin’ all those shameful thoughts.”

Had Eddie been anywhere else, or at least not high from the adrenaline he ran on after performing, he knew he wouldn’t have been able to fight off the blush from your comment. That, mixed with the heavy-lidded stare you were currently fixing on him, he’d have been a goner.

Thankfully for him, he was able to continue to false bravado his way through this conversation, as he’d just spent two-ish hours channeling his inner Eric Adams from Manowar. He could act like a big shot for a little longer. “With a face like yours, I don’t think I can call you anything but an angel.” He surprised himself with his flirtatious evenness, but he tried not to let it show on his face.

He watched as your eyes softened a smidge, but the moment was ruined when the bartender shot forward your glass.

“Coke with grenadine, light ice, for the lovely lady,” he mocked, his hard stare never leaving Munson’s face.

When the bartender turned away, Munson glanced at you, then shot a look over his shoulder at the moody man as if to say, What’s this guy’s problem?

You couldn’t help but laugh at his colorful expression before you brought your straw to your lips, taking a sip.

“Oh, fuck!” came the expletive from Munson. “Sorry. Here I am, buying you drinks and calling you an angel, and you don’t even know my name.” He fixed himself into a relaxed pose, leaning his side against the edge of the bar-top. “Hi, there. I’m Eddie.” He offered what he hoped was a beseeching smile.

Eddie… Eddie… where had you heard that name tonight? You knew you’d heard it from somewhere…

Oh! Eddie! As in, Rick’s off-limits, total dork of a friend, Eddie. This had to be him, right?

How lucky you were. You didn’t even have to go searching for your fun for the night. He just strolled off the stage, practically falling right into your lap. He’d even bought you a drink!

Achieving your goal of breaking Rick’s only rule might be a lot easier than you’d intended.

“Ooooh, so you’re Eddie,” you bemused, taking another small drink. “Of course you’re Eddie.”

A worried look overtook his previously collected features. “You’ve heard about me?” he asked. His voice now wasn’t as confident as it had been before. It was tinged with uncertainty, maybe a bit of anticipatory disappointment. “What d'you mean, 'Of course I’m Eddie’?”

“No, no, it’s nothing bad,” you cooed, bringing a hand to rest on his forearm. You could feel the solidity of his muscles beneath your fingers. You fought the urge to squeeze. “All good stuff, actually. Meeting you’s just adding to the intrigue. I promise.”

That seemed to put him more at ease. He nodded slowly, eyes briefly darting down to your hand which was still grazing his arm. You took it away, wondering if he wasn’t appreciative of it.

You’d read it wrong. He was.

“What’s your name?” he asked, finding your stare again.

Should you have told him?

It probably wouldn’t have hurt.

But you were afraid maybe Rick had already gotten to him, told him to steer clear of his little sister. Name dropping yourself might make Eddie back off, and you did not want that.

“You said you can’t call me anything but an angel,” you replied with puckish modesty. “So, let’s stick with that.” You put your free hand out, the one that had previously taken space on his arm. “Hi, Eddie. I’m Angel.”

You were a little bewildering, kind of cryptic, and super fucking hot. Eddie was a big fan of all three. He didn’t want to pressure you into giving an actual name if you didn’t want to. He could live with Angel. It wasn’t like the moniker was inaccurate.

“Okay, angel,” he granted, taking your hand in his. “It’s an honor.” He brought his lips down to press lightly against the skin of your fingers, eyes never leaving yours. He relished in the tiny bite you gave the corner of your lower lip at his action.

The bartender cleared his throat loudly. Both you and Eddie rolled your eyes simultaneously, turning your attention to him again as you pulled your hand back.

“You two mind? No one wants to come up here and drink with the both of you making Fuck Me eyes at each other. Scram.”

“You’re mean,” you admonished.

Eddie laughed at your accusation, bringing a hand up to the back of his neck, rubbing at it under the heavy weight of his hair.

“You smoke?” he asked.

“Smoke what?” you countered.

Eddie grinned. “I was gonna suggest a cigarette, but maybe you’d be interested in something a little… greener?”

Your brows shot up in intrigue and you nodded, sucking the rest of your soda down in three long sips before slamming the glass back down on the wooden surface of the bar.

“Show me the way, rockstar.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

“So, I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen you around here before,” Eddie started, leading you out the door of The Hideout, heading into the parking lot.

You’d quickly scanned the crowd for Rick before exiting, wanting to make sure he was still otherwise occupied and wouldn’t catch you sneaking out with the one person he most definitely didn’t want you sneaking out with.

No longer was he talking to the biker bros that had basically accosted him at the table. Now he was sitting so close to a pretty purple haired girl that you were sure their foreheads were touching. His hand was on her cheek, and he was smiling goofily at her.

Good. He should be busy for a while now. Thank you, lavender loc’d lovergirl.

“'Cause you’d remember my pretty face if you’d seen it before, is that the rest of your sentence?” you teased.

Eddie grinned a bit bashfully, hand moving to rub at his neck again. You acknowledged it was probably a tell for when he was nervous or bordering on embarrassed. Good to know, perhaps an essential quirk to tuck away for safekeeping.

“Yeah, something like that,” he admitted with a laugh. “But really. You’re not from Hawkins, are you?”

“I am not from Hawkins, no. I actually just moved here today, if you can believe it.”

“Wow,” Eddie said, voice taking on a bantering tone. “Less than 24 hours here and you’re already walking alone at night with some stranger who many have dubbed a sinister cult leader. I may just be Indiana’s very own Satan incarnate. What ever will your parents think?”

“Well, lucky for you, I happen to be the offspring of a high-level Duke of Hell,” you countered, fully thinking of your mother when you spoke. “Guess it’s a match made in… Inferno?”

“My favorite kind of match,” Eddie confessed with a grin as you approached the brown and cream Chevy Beauville you figured belonged to him.

You paused for a beat as Eddie pulled open the side door before asking, “Do people really think that? That you’re a cult leader?”

“Oh, yeah,” he responded, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. When he spoke next, he took on a theatrical guise, words laced with performative shock. “When I walk down the street, men can’t help but to scoff and glare; women clutch their purses to their chests; mothers cover their children’s eyes before their children can shriek in horror; dogs bark and wolves howl and the whole Earth opens up beneath my feet.”

You found yourself watching in utter amusement at his sermonizing, your focus unwavering on his expressive hand motions and his demonstrative body language, your ears attuned to every shift in infliction of his voice.

Rick was right.

Eddie was a dork.

But such an endearing dork. A stellar storyteller. A winsome wordsmith. And it was like he wasn’t even trying. Like this ingenuity came to him as easy as taking a breath.

He reminded you a little of your father -- the eagerness to put on a show, the effortless spellbinding nature. The similarities filled your chest with a warmth you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Too much?” Eddie asked, cringing a little at your silence.

You shook your head slowly, smiling. “Not at all.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Eddie had a multicolor Afghan spread out on the floor in the back of his van, one he informed you was made for him by a past girlfriend of his Uncle’s.

He apologized profusely that the interior wasn’t more appealing, mumbled something about how he should maybe think about getting actual seats installed, but when you sprawled out wordlessly on the blanket, back plush against its scratchy softness, and positively beamed at him, he shut up.

He sat down next to you after finding a half-smoked joint in his middle console, offering it to you for the first hit.

“Where'd you move here from?” he asked after a few moments of peaceful silence, nothing heard but the sizzle from the lit Rizla and the steady stream of cars from the busy street outside.

“Fresno,” you replied, passing the joint to him as you held in your hit until the smoke burned your lungs.

“A California city girl in little ole Hawkins?” he bemused, taking a deep drag. “You must feel pretty out of place here, angel.”

With a shrug, you said, “Dunno yet. It’s only been less than a day, remember?” You took the joint as he extended it out to you, taking a smaller hit this time. “Ask me again after school on Monday.”

“You goin’ to the community college or something?”

“No, I’m still in high school. Senior. I think it’s just called…”

“Hawkins High. Yeah, I uh, I go there too.” That hand rubbing at the back of his neck again. “Um – Paul, y'know, that mean bartender, he… said something about me being twenty? I dunno if you heard. But, yeah. I got held back a few years, so…”

Turns out the hand thing was a sign of embarrassment.

“Eddie, you don’t have to explain yourself to me,” you told him, moving to position your weight onto one side, leaning against your elbow. “Everybody’s on a different path. Besides, high school is such bullshit. It’s basically hardwired for you to fuck up or fail. Believe me, I know.”

You took another hit, this one bigger, wanting to feel the lightheadedness of the high sooner rather than later, especially breaching this subject. It always warranted a lament from you.

“I’ve had specialized learning plans since forever,” you continued, passing the joint off to him. His brows furrowed in concentration as he listened. “I was diagnosed with ADHD when I was little. Like, five or six. I could never sit still in class, and I always needed way more time to take tests than everybody else, and I'd forget whole chunks of paragraphs that I’d just read the second I finished reading them.” You sighed, slightly frustrated at the memories, but the weed was beginning to work its magic. Your muscles felt like they were relaxing, tension drifting away, and your head felt a very good kind of heavy. “But then I got on medicine, and it helped. Still helps.” As an afterthought, you added, “When I remember to take it.”

Eddie considered this for a few moments before sticking the joint in his mouth, inhaling. “Shit. Maybe I have ADHD,” he surmised, exhaling a thick cloud into the air.

“Maybe,” you suggested. “I’d say you could talk to my mom, 'cause she’s a psychiatrist, but she’s actually a huge fucking bitch, so nevermind.”

Eddie laughed, not expecting you to say that, and he'd been in the middle of another inhale so he ended up choking and coughing hard on the smoke.

“Oh, no!” You hurried into a sitting position. “Are you – are you okay?” you asked, and you felt bad, but you couldn’t help the little laughs that were escaping your lips at his now bright red tomato face. You were stoned. “D'you – do you have water in here, somewhere?”

Eddie nodded, having a brief break in his hacking fit, pointing to the front of his van. “Y-yeah, shit,” cough, cough, cough, “o-over there. Fucking fuck, man.” Cough, cough. That last one sounded like it hurt.

You scurried on your hands and knees to the front of the van, scanning the dashboard for some kind of drink. The high made it seem like your eyes could only move in slow motion. Finally spotting a half-drank bottle of blue Gatorade, you snatched it, crawling hurriedly back over to where Eddie sat hunched over, trying to control his breathing.

He took the drink, spun the cap off, and quickly downed most of the contents in an attempt to soothe his raw throat.

“Goddamn,” he rasped out. He realized he was still holding the joint in his hand. He definitely didn’t want anymore now. He looked to you, offering it silently, but you shook your head, rejecting it. He stubbed it out in an ashtray that was laying at his side. Bringing the Gatorade back to his lips, he dipped his head back, finishing it off.

Without really thinking, and weed always loosening your already pretty loose inhibitions, you brought your hand to rest on his cheek, your thumb stroking a small path back and forth on the smooth skin under his eye. “You good?” you asked, the ghost of a laugh twisting at your words.

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat at your touch. He was happy he’d swallowed the Gatorade or else he probably would have started choking on that, too.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt a careful caress like the one you were currently giving him. It was simple, but it felt so good. So soft. And – fuck – you were straddling one of his thighs with your legs, and he didn’t even think you noticed. But he definitely did.

Even though his skin was covered by denim, he could still feel the heat from your center warming him. His cock gave an appreciative jerk in the confines of his tight jeans.

Your eyes finally drifted down to the sitting arrangement you found yourselves in. Slowly lifting your gaze to meet his glassy, doe-eyed stare once more, you tilted your head to the side in quandary, hand not dropping from the curve of his face.

“Should I move?” you asked, voice a pitch louder than a whisper.

“Please don't,” Eddie answered, unblinking.

You let your weight rest fully down on his thigh, shifting your hips once, watching as his eyes rolled back at the contact. He was so receptive that it made your cunt clench around nothing, and you took that moment to pull his face closer to yours, pressing your lips to his almost hard enough to bruise.

Eddie groaned at the feel of your mouth, his tongue eagerly and immediately trying to pry open your lips. You grinned into the kiss, giving him what he wanted by allowing his hot tongue access to slide slippery against your own.

He thought you were sweet and citrusy, like sugared oranges, and a little tart, like ripe pomegranate. He thought fleetingly that if he could, he’d bottle you up and drink you with every meal.

You thought he was fresh and sharp, like spearmint gum, and heady, like expensive sativa. Your tongue fought with his for dominance, each moan from either one of you spurring on the other, greedy mouths working hard to stake their claim.

When you finally pulled away, you were a little out of breath. “God, Eddie, you kiss like you’re thirsty.” Your hand moved from its resting place on his face to tangle in the curls at the back of his head.

He groaned when he felt you tug at the roots of his scalp, bringing a hand up to cradle just under your chin, fingers stretching out over the expanse of your neck. A lazy grin curved at his lips.

“You wanna see thirsty?"

With that, he flipped the both of you over so you were on your back, Eddie positioning himself between your spread legs. You were happy for the padding of the Afghan, knowing the cool steel flooring of the van would have pinched your skin unpleasantly.

He wasted no time in pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, sucking quick but harsh at your supple skin.

You moaned wantonly, lolling your head to the side to give him better access. Your legs moved to wrap around his slim waist, your hips moving up to feel as much of him against your center as you could. Eddie couldn’t help but give a thrust down against you, his persistently hardening cock straining taut against his jeans.

“Can I taste you?” he asked against your skin, pressing softer kisses to the tiny marks he’d left just moments ago with his lips and teeth.

A strained whimper escaped your lips at his request. You nodded, feeling more drunk than high, arching your hips up again to try and garner more friction from him.

“Say it,” he demanded, bringing a hand up to grip at your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “‘I want you to taste me, Eddie.’ Tell me.”

“I want you to taste me, Eddie,” you repeated lewdly, ad-libbing after with, “please, Eddie, want you to make me feel good.”

His pupils blew dark and wide, and he slid the remainder of the way down your body, burying his head under your skirt. Without removing your underwear or even pushing them to the side, he pressed his mouth to the damp fabric, his open-mouthed kisses continuing there. A desperate sound came from him as he sucked you through your panties, the deliciously honeyed scent of you enveloping him completely.

In this moment, he felt like if he died with his face buried in your heat, it would be a very happy and welcomed death.

“Eddie, take them off,” you demanded, shaking your hips around in a frustrated movement.

He laughed at your impatience, but moved to grant you your wish. He hooked his fingers under the sides of your panties, just about to pull them down… before a loud pounding was heard on the outside of the van.

“Hey, Ed? Hate to interrupt you, dude, but my mom’s gonna be pissed if you don’t get me home by 10.”

Eddie groaned loudly, the noise sounding almost pained. It seemed like it took a lot out of him to have to move his head out from under your skirt. He glanced over his shoulder to the clock on his dash, the LED numbers reading 9:35PM.

“This dream just turned into a real fucking nightmare, angel,” he grumbled, biting down lightly at your inner thigh.

You jolted at the feel of his teeth, and couldn’t help but give a frustrated whine at his sentiment, wholly agreeing. Your entire body was thrumming, wanting so badly to be touched and given a release.

“Eddie…?” came the voice again.

“Yeah, Doug, got it. Give me a minute, man.”

Eddie took one more longing look at your clothed cunt, studying the wet spot made from his spit and your arousal. He gave a salacious lick of his lips before dragging his eyes up to meet yours.

“That’s my bassist,” he begrudgingly informed. “His mom’s like your mom. Huge fucking bitch, but don't ever tell him I said that. I have to drive him home or else she’ll forever forbid him to play another show.”

You offered him a placating smile, moving your hand to brush a few of his longer bangs from around his eyes. “It’s okay. I mean, it really isn’t, 'cause I’m so fucking horny right now, but I get it.” Eddie gave another groan at your admission. He cursed the universe for shit fucking timing, and for totally inconsiderate bassists who didn’t have their licenses.

“Can I see you again?” he asked, voice bordering on timid.

It was shocking to you how he could go from dirty mouthed amateur porn star to red-cheeked virginal teenage boy in the matter of minutes. The duality was enticing. You briefly wondered just how far you could push him to either end of the spectrum.

“I’ll give you my number,” you said, but then remembered, “oh, wait, I don’t know my number yet. Um. You can give me yours?”

Eddie nodded fervently, moving to a kneeling position as he reached over and started looking through a pile of stuff on his passenger seat. He pulled out a pen from the mess and ripped off a small piece of paper from an old report card, quickly scrawling down his digits.

“Here,” he said, moving to hand it to you. He did a quick once over though, realizing you didn’t have pockets, so he slid the folded piece of paper under the front hem of your panties. He patted it with his fingers and gave a pleased grin before saying, “C'mon, I’ll walk you back inside.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

By the time you’d made it back through the front door of The Hideout, Rick was running around like a chicken with its head cut off, obviously in search of you.

“What the fuck, Bean!” he scolded, marching his way up to you when he spotted you walking in, not even glancing at Eddie. “I don’t pay attention for two minutes and you disappear for an hour?!”

“Two minutes, Richard, really?” you laughed out, the sound incredulous. Because, really, Rick’s timeframe was way, way off. You knew he wasn’t the greatest at math, but damn, right now he was straight up delusional. “You’ve been talking to everyone but me since we got here! You weren't paying attention for way longer than two minutes.”

“So not fuckin’ true,” he said, but his tone was quieter now as if he figured that, yeah, it might actually be true.

Rick’s eyes finally drifted to your side, observing Eddie’s presence. You’d taken great care to fix the boy’s hair and his clothing, making sure he didn’t look disheveled for this very reason – you could tell Rick was sizing the younger man up after finding out the two of you were off somewhere together. Alone.

Eddie looked like a lost puppy, glancing between you and Rick, trying to figure out what the fuck the dynamic between the two of you was. You tried your hardest not to look so amused at his sweet, utterly confused expression.

“Oh, yeah, I ran into Eddie while I was outside smoking,” you explained away easily. “He told me you guys are friends. I figured he’s who you brought me here to meet.”

Eddie side eyed you, unsure of where this was heading. He definitely did not tell you that he and Rick were friends. Eddie didn’t even think him and Rick were friends. He hoped they were, he wanted them to be, but he didn’t think it’s how Rick would have classified their relationship.

Rick turned his apprehensive gaze on Eddie. “Is that true?” he asked, eye contact steady and unblinking.

Best go along with it, Eddie thought.

“Couldn’t be truer.”

The older man seemed to consider Eddie’s response for a minute before a familiar silly grin etched itself across his pierced face.

“Cool!” he exclaimed, clapping Eddie on the shoulder.

Rick had been planning on propositioning Eddie tonight about being your watchdog, but after downing a few drinks and having basically driven around for the past four days straight with little sleep, he figured that conversation could wait a little longer. “You wanna come over tomorrow night, Munson? Hang out with me and the little sister for a bit?”

Eddie’s brows furrowed, shaking his head slowly in uncertainty. “Sure, but... who’s your little sister?”

Rick’s smile slowly began to fade in skepticism as his attention moved from Eddie and back to you standing beside him.

“Me, silly,” you admonished, bringing a hand down to grab at his, concealing the contact behind your back so Rick didn’t see. You stroked the skin on his thumb in a wordless apology for the whole not-being-totally-honest-about-who-you-were thing.

Eddie’s eyes widened at the reveal, still a little too stoned for the realization that he’d just had one of the hottest make-out sessions of his entire life with… Reefer Rick Lipton's… little sister…

Shit.

“Remember? I told you outside?” you were pleading at him with your eyes, still trying to make it not appear obvious that you were lying your ass off to your older brother.

Eddie indulged, not wanting to be on the receiving end of the rage of Rick if he found out what had just gone one in the back of his Beauville.

“Oh, yeah! Right, right!” Eddie tried to play it off. “Sorry, man, I’m just – totally fucking stoned.” That part was relatively true. This whole interaction was making him feel even higher than he thought he was in the first place, actually. Eddie gave Rick what he prayed was an easy-going grin.

You released Eddie and stepped in between the two of them, forcing out a wide yawn. “Rick, c'mon, I’m getting tired,” you brought your hand to your brother’s arm, starting to tug at him, pulling him toward the door. “Let’s go home.” You stressed the last word, hoping that by you referring to his Hawkins residence as that, it would soften and distract him.

It did.

Rick relented, figuring he was probably just looking too deeply into things, understanding his paranoia sometimes got the better of him. Nothing probably happened between you and Eddie. He was probably just being an overbearing older brother. Probably.

“Right. 'Kay. Lemme just go find this one girl and say bye.” He disappeared off into the dwindling crowd, and you assumed he was off to bid adieu to the same purple-haired girl from before.

You took this as your chance to turn to Eddie.

Eddie, who was currently staring at you a little too warily for your liking.

“Please don’t be mad at me,” you implored, fingers finding his hand again. He didn’t make a move to pull away, so you took that as a good sign. “Just come over tomorrow night, okay? We can talk about it.”

It kind of freaked you out how much you didn’t want this – whatever this was – between the two of you to be ruined so quickly.

Since your dad left, you knew things in your life had gone a little downhill, and you also knew you’d been acting a bit belligerently in your attempts to try and ignore it. You’d been making irresponsible, rash decisions all over the board – from school, to home, to friendships and relationships. Nothing seemed to be sacrosanct from your newfound self-sabotaging behaviors.

From this, you’d encountered quite a few willing partners, of both the opposite and same sex, to occupy your mind and time since last summer, and not a single one of them was someone you were interested in getting to know more than just carnally.

Eddie was the first person in a long time you felt you actually clicked with on more than just a physical level, and that was evident from your discourse at the bar, your rendezvous in the van, and now with the realization that you may have screwed it all up by not being truthful to him. You were starting to get a stomach ache. This was so not how you’d planned on the night ending.

Across from you, Eddie seemed to weigh the entire situation as you just had, his dark brown eyes studying your face as he did so. Maybe to find a glimmer of further deceit? Of an ulterior motive? He was used to those things. It wasn’t often people wanted him just to want him. It was usually to get something from him.

However, he could find nothing but honest anticipation in your eyes. His fingers squeezed yours briefly before Rick made his way back over, your brother’s heavily tattooed arm sliding around your frame as he pulled you away.

“See ya tomorrow, Munson!” Rick called.

At the last moment you could, right before the door to the bar closed, you looked back over your shoulder at Eddie. He saw you smile at him. Your intention was to silently ask for the possibility of forgiveness, or at the very least, understanding.

Eddie watched the door you’d exited through for a minute or two longer. Blinking back to reality, he realized he was tired, at first thinking it was just from the weed, but then remembering that Corroded Coffin had literally played a show tonight.

That seemed like days ago at this point.

Being in the van with you had felt like a lengthy escapade, definitely more than just roughly sixty minutes spent together.

Eddie’s palms started to sweat.

He hadn’t known you before an hour ago, but now that you weren’t next to him anymore, talking and teasing, he’d felt more alone than he had in a long time.

Exiting the bar, Eddie headed back to his van.

The whole trip to Dougie’s house and then on his ride back to the trailer park, he was fake scenario-ing all the different ways tomorrow night at Rick’s could go.

Maybe he was bound to be screwed over by you eventually, fucked royally in a not-so-fun way.

But Eddie, ever the opportunist, would likely let you as long as that meant he got to go along for the ride.

#eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #billy x reader #billy x you #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove smut #mungrove x reader #mungrove

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intimidating-fettuccine · 9 months

Text

Another round of random creep headcanons

Because I'm not in a productive headspace and still want to write new content

Jane and Jeff while working under Slender have a truce, and while they definitely aren't friends and don't have the best relationship, there is one topic in which Jane will broach with him regularly; hair care products. Jeff has some of the best hair in the mansion (even to the extent that Jason asks him what products he uses), and so Jane, who is on a never-ending journey to be the most stylish person in the mansion, one day caved and asked him what his hair care routine was. Jeff was baffled and shocked about the whole thing, but now it's become routine that whenever he tries something new that works, he tells her about the product. Sometimes he gets her her own as a gift, but Jane gets too self-conscious about receiving gifts from him, so she always gets him a gift of equal value.

Brian got Tim to start doing face masks. Brian has always taken good care of his skin, and he finds the prospect of face masks to be very relaxing, so he's gotten Tim to start doing them as well, and much to Tim's chagrin, his skin is looking and feeling better than ever, and it is actually an incredibly relaxing way to spend your time. The others used to tease him for it, but having your ass beat by a hunky, angry man with a face mask is an experience you find hard to forget, so everyone started leaving him alone about it. You'll find him relaxing next to Brian, face mask on, eyes closed, iced sweet tea in hand, just calming down after a long day. People still can't help but chuckle at him for it though, considering he looks like such a dad while he's doing it.

Liu and Slender have overtaken the mansion with their Plant DadTM habits. Slender has an incredibly huge garden surrounding the mansion that he's worked on so hard over the years, and Liu shares the same aspirations for plants, with his bedroom being completely decked out in a variety of plants, but now the two of them have combined and decorated the rest of the mansion in plants as well. Flowers, indoor trees, succulents, cacti, any type of plant you can imagine, they have it somewhere in the mansion. They both split duties on caring for them, and all of the plants are flourishing wonderfully, and they honestly do bring a lot of life into the mansion. Sometimes the others will pitch in to help every now and then too, but it's usually Liu and Slender pulling most of the weight with them.

Jason has gotten into the arts recently, and his main area of focus has been sculpting. He started out with things like cups and plates, but recently, he's been trying to seriously challenge himself, and he's been trying to make sculptures of all of the other resident's faces. It's difficult and time-consuming, but it's something that relaxes him at the end of the day. So far, he's completed sculptures of Slender, Helen, Pup, and Toby, and he's currently working on EJ and Jane. It's a good hobby for him with his attention to detail and artistic capabilities. He does his absolute best to get them as accurate as possible, including every single scratch or scar or dimple on all of their faces. He sculpts down to just below their chests as well, so he thinks it's fun to come up with tops for them to be wearing in the sculptures as well, and he likes doing different textures for different clothing.

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lostfirefly · 7 days

Text

If you sit down with this old clown, take that frown and break it, before the evening's gone away, I think that we could make it

I probably won’t surprise anyone, but the idea came to me in a dream. In it, two girls were sitting at a bar and one of them wanted to meet Buggy (I'm serious!). So welcome to another dream! :) English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)

Buggy and F/GN Reader - Masterlist is here.

Description: Your sister took you to a bar so she could meet someone. She saw Buggy, but he clearly showed interest in you.

Warnings: Nerd people are mentioned here. I have nothing against people who are passionate about something. The basis is the reaction of people who do not understand other people's hobbies.

Words: 1815

Taglist: @gingernut1314, @operationroots

The title is taken from “I Hope That I Don't Fall in Love With You” by Tom Waits.

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GIF by vinnymauro

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“Why did you bring me here?” You twirled a glass of wine in your hands.

“Well, because I'm tired of being alone. It's time to get back into the game after we broke up with that asshole.” Your sister leaned back in her chair and scanned the entire room with her eyes. “There are no decent candidates yet.”

“That's all very nice to hear, but why do you need me here?” You took a sip of wine and snacked on cheese.

“I’m afraid I need a co-pilot, Y/N.” Your sister chuckled and scratched her nose.

“We've been sitting here for two hours and the only options that have come to us are those pot-bellied weirdos over there.” You carefully pointed your little finger at the table where a group of chubby guys in glasses sat, endlessly discussing aliens and yeties.

“They’re not that weird.” Your sister tilted her head slightly.

“Not weird? Seriously? One of them came up wearing a t-shirt with the inscription that said “take a ride on my flying saucer.” You laughed. “Sorry, but I didn't sign up for a such kind of date.”

“Well, if there are no other options, I'll choose the one with the Bigfoot t-shirt.” Your sister shrugged and opened new bottle of wine.

“I'll hope he's not as hairy as his pet on his clothes.” You giggled and poured some wine into your glass.

“You're such a bitch.” Your sister shook her head and took a piece of cheese.

Suddenly a loud laughter echoed through the bar. Everyone sitting in the bar instantly turned towards the sound.

“Lord, who is laughing so hard?” You turned around, craning your head. “Apparently that tall guy at the bar.”

“Wow! He’s cute! Why didn't we notice him before?!!” Your sister looked in the same direction.

“Seriously? Are you sure we're looking at the same guy? Blue hair, red nose, makeup on his face.” You nodded your face towards the guy sitting at the counter. His laughter seemed to shake the walls of the entire establishment.

“Yes. He’s cute!” Your sister kicked your leg under the table. “Go and find out from him whether he’s sitting here with someone or alone.”

“Why me?” You look at her.

“You're my co-pilot, Y/N. Or do you want me to start playing the poor abandoned girl card.” Your sister made a sad face. “I might even cry.”

“Okay!” You rolled your eyes. “Fuck. Why is it always me?”

You muttered under your breath, took a glass, stood up and headed towards. You cleared your throat and gently patted the blue-haired man on the shoulder. “Hey, you. Hello!”

“What?” He turned sharply and looked you with his green eyes up and down.

“Nothing. My sister liked you.” You took a sip, realizing that you had said something stupid.

“And what?” The man look at you questionably.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “Go up to her and say hello like all normal people.”

“No! I’m busy!” He turned around and poured some whiskey.

“You’re busy? How? What are you doing? You just sit and drink.” You threw up your hands.

“It's called being busy, brownie! Do you see?” He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, grinned and poured himself a glass of whiskey in one gulp. “So, sorry, my love.”

“Fuck you! Asshole!” You returned to the table, sat down and groaned.

“So? Will he come? Y/N, please, say he'll come!” Your sister looked at you with hope. “He's so cool when he grumbles.” She smiled slightly.

“No, he won’t. He’s kind of strange, to be honest. He’s sitting there alone, and by the way, he wears more makeup than you and me combined.” You leaned your elbows on the back of the chair and looked towards the bar counter again.

“Y/N, go and ask what he is doing? Maybe he will come..” Your sister took another sip of wine, looked at you with pleading eyes and lightly tapped her palms on the table.

“Why me? You liked him, so you go! You made a hand gesture, sending your sister to the bar.

“I’m shy.” She stared at the table and began to move her finger along the glass. “You’re better at talking than me. Y/N, plee-e-e-a-a-ase!”

“Why do I always fall for this? Okay! Site here.” You groaned, stood and came to the bar counter.

You tapped the man on the shoulder. “Hey, you! Hello again!”

“You again?” He looked at you, and it seemed to you for a second that he was glad to see you. “Now what?”

“Yeah, me. Well... My sister… My sister is still sitting there.” You carefully pointed towards your table. “And still likes you.”

“And my question is still, “so what?” The man turned to you.

“Listen, are you always such a rude person?” You squinted your eyes and took a sip.

“Great!” He laughed loudly. “Your sister is sending you to me, and I’m the rude one in this situation!”

“Look, okay, I admit it. I'm not very good at being a co-pilot. To be honest, I have no idea how to do this correctly.” Your chuckled.

“That's noticeable, brownie!” He flicked your nose and winked.

“Is it difficult for you to spare 5 minutes with us? Say hello, say a joke and then say goodbye. Her boyfriend dumped her, by the way. And for some strange reason she liked you.” You softened your voice.

“Still my answer is no!” The man turned back to the bar.

“Ass!” You muttered under your breath and was about to come back to your sit.

“Hey, wait!” The man shouted at you. “What's the name?”

“Whose name? Sister?”

“No! Your. What's your name?” He looked at you and took a sip.

“Y/N. And you?” You squinted one eye.

“Buggy.”

“Well, hi, Buggy.” You smiled slightly.

“Well, hi, Y/N.” He winked at you again.

“Won't you come over?” You nodded again towards the table.

“Sorry, brownie, no!” Buggy shook his head and laughed again.

“Okay!” You exhaled. “Enjoy your drink!”

You returned to the table and shrugged. “I'm a lousy co-pilot, sister. He won't co~.”

"So, girls.” Suddenly, a white-gloved hand slammed a bottle of whiskey onto the table. “Are we relaxing?"

“YES!!!” Your sister shouted happily, and immediately covered her mouth with her hand, not expecting such volume from herself.

“Yes. Relaxing.” You looked at Buggy and quietly whispered “thank you”.

Buggy winked at you again. “I thought I'd rather keep you company than these weirdos in weird t-shirts.” He placed his hand on the back of your chair. “And I’m Buggy, by the way. So. What are you talking about?”

“About various things.” Your sister said, started twirling her hair on her finger.

“Come on, brownie... and... well.. brownie’s sister, tell me about yourselves.” Buggy poured himself a glass of whiskey and gently placed his hand on your back. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye and smiled slightly.

“Oh, I work at the police station.” Your sister took a sip of the wine without taking her eyes off Buggy. “Well, you know. Administrator. I register cases and everything.”

“Sounds good. What about you, brownie?” Buggy moved his hand over your back a little lower.

“Nothing to tell, to be honest. I just quit my two jobs, and now I’m celebrating my freedom.” You blushed a little, feeling his hand started stroking your back.

He took the bottle, turned it over in his hands and smelled it. “You can't celebrate by drinking some crap.” Buggy called the waiter and ordered another bottle of wine. He placed your open bottle on the weirdo’s table. “Guys, this is for you. The best wine in this bar. Enjoy your evening.”

Buggy chuckled strangely, sat down and moved his chair closer to you. You could smell him, smelling like a mixture of rum and whiskey, and musk.

“Okay, okay.” You glanced at him. “You asked about us. It's our turn! Tell me, what do you do in life?”

“Me?” He looked at you, pointing his finger at himself. “You don't know who I am?”

“Sorry, Buggy.” You took his bottle of whiskey and poured some into your glass, squinting your eyes. “But I have no idea who you are.”

“Na-ah! First, that's my bottle. And I'm gonna get it back.” He smirked and took the bottle from your hands. “Y/N! My brownie, I'm the genius and famous Buggy the Clown!”

You drank whiskey and choked. “Fuck, it's strong.” You wiped your lips. “Who are you? The clown? From the circus? From the real circus?” You slightly turned your body towards him.

“The realest and greatest circus in the world!” Buggy placed his hand on your waist.

“So what?” Your sister asked and ran her foot along his leg. “Do you have acrobats, jugglers and mimes there?”

“Exactly, brownie’s sisters!” Buggy pointed his glass at her. “The best acrobats, the best mimes, the best jugglers! You should go to my show. Especially you, brownie!” He flicked your nose.

“Me?” You tried not to notice his hand on your waist. “Why me? Sorry, Buggy the Clown, I don't like circuses!”

“You just weren't in my circus, baby!” Buggy winked at you and slowly moved his hand to your hip.

“Damn, I'm out of whiskey. Waiter. Hey! Are they deaf or something? I'll be right back. Brownie.” He stood up and winked at you. “And.. brownie's sister.”

“How do you do it, Y/N?” Your sister laughed, taking a sip of her wine.

“What am I doing?” You raised one eyebrow.

“I noticed the guy, and he will leave with you. Probably.” Your sister leaned back in her chair and looked around.

“He seems okay. He's even cute.” You shrugged your shoulders and glanced at Buggy, who was actively gesticulating and laughing at the bar counter. “Or maybe he’s flirting with everyone like that.”

"No way! He liked you!" Your sister stuck her tongue out at you.

“Sorry...” You answered sadly.

“Oh, fuck it. He's yours. I'll go meet the yeti.” Your sister took the glass and went to the next table.

“Hey! Where is your sister?” Buggy asked in surprise as he came back.

“She went to see that dude who's wearing a yeti t-shirt. Why are you asking? Miss her?” You immediately straightened your hair, placed your hand on the table and rested your chin on your palm.

“No, brownie. I miss you already.” Buggy plopped down next to you and moved his face close to yours. “So, what are your plans for today?” He stroked your shoulder with his fingers.

You moved even closer to his face and winked. “Buggy the Clown, it seems like you promised to show me your circus. But first…” You carefully ran your finger along his leg. “You will buy me a brownie.”

#one piece #buggy the clown #buggy live action #one piece live action #buggy one piece #opla buggy the clown #buggy fanfiction #buggy fic #opla buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #buggy x female reader #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy x reader

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mikalara-dracula · 1 year

Text

When the Sakamakis were children [IRL photos + hcs]

Warning: 18+ content below; don't read if you're a minor and aren't comfortable with mentions of childhood fears/trauma. This is a fictional work and should not be taken seriously.

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Made with: @liannelara-dracula

Figured I'd put side-by-side photos for better comparison to real life and the anime.

Shu

Started practicing violin a lot as a kid, but it was honestly a hobby to him. And this is probably when his love for classical music began.

He also started learning piano too. He has a natural talent for both, but violin came easier to him.

Began learning fencing as a child. (I have a post about Shu and Reiji hcs if anyone is interested. Click/tap here to check it out.)

Shu used to be taller than Reiji as a kid, but this changed later on.

Read poetry as a child and Beatrix also forced him to write some of his own so he’d develop the skill since the heir had to know how to do something finesse.

Since he’s the heir, he was expected to attend special balls and gatherings with Reiji by his side.

And here, you can best bet he was introduced to potential suitresses he would have to choose sometime later, but Beatrix thought it didn’t hurt for Shu to be introduced early.

She honestly hoped he’d become friends with one of his suitresses as children so they could grow up together and later be married.

It’s canon that Shu has a fear of clowns.

This fear probably resulted from Ayato and Laito jumping at him out of nowhere when they were kids, and scared him by wearing clown masks.

It’s also canon that he’s afraid of caterpillars.

This fear probably developed in his childhood through Reiji putting one in Shu’s tea once, and he’s been traumatized since due to Reiji’s scheming.

It’s canon that he knows Latin, so he probably started studying it when he was a child. Beatrix figured it’d be better for him to get familiarized with the human world since Karl was well accustomed, so through Shu being the heir, you can imagine Beatrix expected him to be very knowledgeable like Karl.

It’s canon that Shu used to sneak out as much as he could to get away from the castle.

Although, he would sometimes get caught by the servants who would immediately force him to come back and he’d be delivered to his mother for scolding.

But some servants looked the other way and let Shu go out and explore, mostly because they felt bad from how much pressure was on him as the heir.

When he met Edgar, he used to sneak out a lot to go see him.

In the manga, Shu said that he worked harder in his studies so he could finish them early and go have time to see Edgar.

Their friendship was so cute. :))

Had his first kiss at 13 (at least he looked 13) with some nobleman’s daughter since he was at the age of being curious as to what that would feel like.

Was quite close with some of his nannies and servants, at least the ones who let him get away with things his mother wouldn’t allow.

Reiji

Oh my gosh, look at our lil Rei. He was so cute as a kid. (Tbh, they all were.)

Apart from this, unfortunately, Reiji was alone for most of his childhood.

Read a lot as a kid, either for school or personal research.

Has gotten into literal fights with Shu, such as both them tackling each other and battling it out.

It usually took several servants to pry them apart.

They once ended up falling into a mud puddle during their fight and Beatrix was so pissed off that their suits had been soiled. You can bet her scolding was quite brutal and never-ending about this.

Probably started learning chess around this time as well. Lil Rei honestly found it interesting since it involved strategy, something that’s right up his alley.

His fear of ghosts probably developed as a child since he was always lonely, especially through always sleeping in his room alone as a kid and being considered foolish by his mother if he sought comfort.

It’s canon in one of the game routes that Reiji developed a healing cream formula as a child to aid vampires. So we can see how advanced his chemistry skills were even as a child.

Because there was a lot of pressure on him as a child by his mother he felt the need to perfect things so he was always practicing all his manners, tea pouring, dancing, and fencing skills.

He usually asks his servants to assist him and correct him if needed.

This is also why he is so good at dancing when it comes to the waltz.

It doesn’t surprise me if he had a maid/servant who used to help him practice.

At balls and events that he attended with Shu, he always tried to make a better impression than his brother, mostly because he just wanted to be acknowledged.

It’s canon that Reiji used to spy on Shu in hopes of catching him doing something un-heir-like so he could report it to his mom and get Shu scolded so he could be viewed as the more “mature” child.

He used to have tea time with his mother because she’d want to know what was going on with Shu.

Reiji at first thought it was because she wanted to spend time with him but he later learned that these tea times were only to know what Shu was up to and if he was misbehaving or hiding anything.

Still, Reiji did what he was asked because he figured he could possibly get the chance to tell his mother some news about his discoveries or something interesting.

However, it was always short-lived because she used to change subjects and always focus on Shu.

This is also why Reiji prefers to be alone because he could never have one conversation with her, without her not mentioning his older brother.

All our lil Rei wanted was a friend who would listen to him 😭.

Laito

It’s canon that Laito once stuck candy wrappers into Shu’s pocket to not get the blame for eating them. Shu’s still pissed at Laito for this since he ended up getting the blame along with getting scolded by Reiji.

Definitely developed his fear of bugs as a kid.

Ayato used to chase Laito around the courtyard with a bug in his hand and would try to get it on him.

He used to run around the mansion shirtless.

But also used to run around naked in the castle with his brothers.

Always took baths with his two little brothers, and he and Ayato always use to tease Kanato by pouring cold water on him or by stealing his bath toy.

This usually resulted in Kanato crying.

But sometimes they were nice to him and washed his hair since they felt bad. So they used to take turns washing each other’s hair.

Laito and Ayato always bribe Kanato with candy so they dare him to touch Reiji’s shoulder while he’s reading without being noticed or to mess with the cooks in the kitchen.

This way they can get a laugh out of it.

Laito used to have the servants read him bedtime stories before going to bed every night.

Kanato

Aww, isn’t he cute.

Let’s just pretend the bby in the photo on the right is Teddy lol.

It’s honestly funny how both are positioned in the same way.

Kanato wasn’t entirely alone during his childhood.

He mostly spent his time with Ayato and Laito, but sometimes he preferred to be alone.

Used to have pillow/stuffed animal fights in his room with Ayato and Laito. And they would usually end with pillows/stuffed animals ripping, causing a big cloud of fluff to explode about them.

Used to steal sweets from the castle's kitchen and was an expert at hiding it.

Little Kanato would usually sneak out of his room after everyone had been put to sleep and would sneak into the kitchen to grab a bite of whatever sweets the castle had prepared for tomorrow.

He once colored on the castle walls because he was so bored. Cordelia was so mad, but Karl honestly didn’t care since he claimed his son was expressing himself. Until this day, that wall remains with that design.

It’s canon that Kanato used to sing “Scarborough Fair” to Cordelia when he was a kid. He honestly had a natural talent for singing and finds it nice to sing on his own every so often as seen in the anime.

His brothers used to tease him about his height and he’d get sad and would claim that one day he’d be taller.

Sometimes Kanato would have nightmares as a kid. So he’d end up going to either Laito or Ayato’s room and crawl into their beds for comfort. Aww :’))

He used to be afraid of lighting as a kid.

He had a childhood crush once and Laito and Ayato teased him endlessly about it.

Used to finger paint with Laito and Ayato and they used to tease him by taking their fingers and dabbing their fingers on his nose to get paint on it. It would always make him upset.

Our poor little baby.

Ayato

Ayato usually spent his time with Kanato and Laito, but mostly Laito since sometimes Kanato wanted to be on his own.

Ayato once spent a lot of time with Kanato and Laito building this little motor that they could drive around.

Ayato decided to test it once inside the castle with Kanato and Laito.

And it actually worked! Ayato was having a lot of fun test-driving it around, and Kanato and Laito cheering him on and begging to have a turn.

But this was until Cordelia stopped Ayato and told him to go to his room for acting foolish.

In the end, their little motor ended up disappearing, and they later discovered that Cordelia had it burned.

It’s canon that Ayato took violin lessons as a kid, but this didn’t last long until Cordelia ended up breaking Ayato’s violin during her freakouts, to which his lessons ended. And he was honestly happy to get out of them.

Ayato always used to play monkey in the middle with Laito and Kanato. And you can best bet that Kanato was the monkey in the middle.

Kanato would always complain that he could never catch the ball and would throw tantrums about this.

Tbh, this hasn’t changed since the triplets play it like this until now lmao. xDD

Used to jump off the manor’s couches with Kanato and Laito with a cape and pretended he could fly.

Apparently, it’s canon that Ayato is afraid of bees. So with this, he probably developed this trauma because he got stung once when he was a kid and never got over it.

He used to grab little mice and release them into the kitchen because all the female cooks were afraid of them.

He used to get a kick out of it every time the cooks would start freaking out and throwing pots and pans and chasing them out with a broom.

He’s even done this to his aunt Beatrix but not his mom, he was too afraid. He knew she’d instantly catch on to it being him and suffer tremendous punishment for it.

Subaru

He was alone a lot of the time too.

As we know, Christa gave Subaru that silver knife he always carries around.

Whenever he was bored as a kid, he’d sometimes used it to carve or engrave things, or even weave bracelets.

He had a childhood crush! It was a girl (a child vampire like him) from a noble family that would sometimes come to court.

She was around his age and was pretty social. She noticed him at one of the gatherings and began hanging out with him since she found the gatherings boring.

So, they both would go outside since Subaru hates crowds himself. And from there, they developed a pretty cute and innocent friendship.

She actually got our little bby car to lighten up and would tag him out of nowhere so he could chase her around the courtyard.

And it was through this that Subaru developed a crush on her.

Sooner than later, he even went as far as carving his and her initials into a tree in the courtyard.

Their friendship lasted a good while throughout the years and through having such a connection, Subaru secretly swore that he’d marry her when they were of age.

But this all changed when the girl was forced to marry another suitor that was presented to her.

This left him pretty disappointed, but he figured it would end this way because he always thought it was too good to be true since he was raised to think he was “filthy.”

Used to engage in a bit of pottery making and he gave some of his works to his mom, which she gladly appreciated when she wasn’t having a mental breakdown.

Subaru keeps his little pottery works until now stashed somewhere hidden in his room so his brothers won’t find them.

And he can’t bring himself to throw them away despite part of him wanting to since he finds them foolish now. Whatever the case, he figures as long as his brothers don’t see nor find them, he’ll keep them.

Played tag with the triplets sometimes.

Would sometimes hang out with Shu, but it was rare.

They’d sometimes go on walks together in the courtyard or even carve things together, like a piece of wood from a nearby tree.

Shu once tried to teach Subaru violin, but it was a disaster.

Unfortunately, it was so bad that it was overheard by the entire castle ground and it resulted in a lot of people complaining. So with that, he never tried it again.

Despite this though, he still considered Shu his favorite brother since Shu never bothered him in an annoying way and was the only one who made an attempt to hang out with him every so often.

It’s canon that Subaru likes Kanato’s singing. Since Kanato used to sing to Cordelia when he was a child, Subaru probably overheard Kanato sing to Cordelia in the courtyard sometimes since he spent a lot of time there himself, and grew an admiration from there on out.

Subaru would sometimes use his knife to cut roses and bring them to his mom when she was feeling okay. It always brought a smile to her face.

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