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moonlinos · 2 months

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Call my bluff, call you ‘babe’

♡ Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Childhood friends to lovers, fluff

♡ CW: Implied smut, alcohol consumption. Twenty solid seconds of angst, but it doesn’t even really count. It’s just tooth-rotting fluff.

♡ Word count: 5.5k

♡ Synopsis: Minho has been your best friend since you two could barely form coherent sentences. He was there when your last baby tooth fell, he was there when you failed your high school exams, and he was there as you walked down the aisle.

♡ A/N: This was going to be just word-vomit fluff to make me cry, but I couldn’t control myself and before I knew it there were… so many words.

You were four years old when you met Minho. It was the first day of kindergarten, and you were assigned seats together. The entire day was spent with you chatting to every kid you could reach from your seat while Minho quietly sat painting and doodling by your side. You vaguely remember thinking he was odd and whining to your mom about how your seatmate was boring, and that was why he was the only kid in class you didn’t talk to. She smiled and told you maybe you should make an effort to talk to him. That same day, you racked your little brain for a reason why your seatmate might be so quiet and promptly decided that he was too shy to start a conversation himself. You then asked your mom if the fact that you didn’t talk to him might have made him sad, to which she hesitated, and that was enough to have your bottom lip wobbling.

You remember tears streaming down your cheeks as you frantically sobbed, inconsolable at the fact that your seatmate was sad and that it was partially because of you.

The next day, you asked if Minho would like to use your special glitter pens — you even told him you wouldn’t mind if he used your favorite colors. That was really all that was needed to plant the bud of friendship between you two.

Ever since that day, you two slowly became inseparable.

You attended the same elementary school after begging your parents, writing a very concise list of reasons why you two could not possibly be separated. Reasons such as the fact that Minho still didn’t know how to tie his shoelaces, so it would be dangerous for him to be alone in a new school. Or the fact that you were always losing your gloves, and Minho always carried an extra pair in his backpack just for you, so you would surely catch a cold if you didn’t have him beside you during winter.

All extremely valid reasons.

Minho began walking you home from school when you were both nine years old. He was often left alone due to his parents’ work schedules, which made him become the most street-smart kid in your class. You had to beg your mom for a week, but she ultimately caved in.

Your favorite thing to do on your way home was to stop randomly and doodle on the sidewalk with chalk, with Minho joining you in no time. You even had your favorite little sketching spot — right in front of a nice old lady’s flower shop, where you two would spend far too much time decorating her entrance pavement with flowers, rainbows, and smiley faces. She would later introduce herself to you, Ms. Kim, and would always thank you both with a flower of your choice. You always picked tulips, and Minho always picked daisies.

On one hazy winter day, you and Minho were eager to adorn the flower shop’s entrance with a new set of doodles since the ones you had done just yesterday got covered in snow. As you two did your best to dig through the piled-up snow with your gloved hands, you suddenly felt something hard slide down your throat. Your hands stilled, and you turned to look at Minho with wide eyes.

“What happened?” He asked. “Did you lose your glove in the snow this time?”

You shook your head frantically, careful not to swallow. “Teeth,” you simply said.

Minho looked at you like you were crazy, squinting his eyes as he studied your face. “What?”

You felt tears well up, and he immediately abandoned his mission of shuffling through the snow before pulling you into a big hug.

“Why are you crying? Don’t cry. I hate when you cry, I feel weird when you cry,” He said, but no tears left his worried eyes. Minho never cried, that was something you had learned a while back.

You, however, cried until Ms. Kim noticed you two from the window, cooing as she approached you two with a gentle smile. You tried your best to explain your predicament. Minho sat with you behind the wooden counter, holding your hand in his, the smell of flowers making everything feel less catastrophic than it did ten minutes earlier.

Ms. Kim explained that you had no reason to cry, as it was normal for kids to swallow their baby teeth. And you remember harshly shaking your head and explaining with a trembling voice that you hadn’t cried because of that. You had cried because that was your last baby tooth, which meant you were officially a grown-up. You didn’t want to be a grown-up. Minho wasn’t a grown-up yet, with his last baby tooth still holding on proudly in his gums. You didn’t want to be a grown-up all alone; it would be terrible and sad.

That afternoon, you two went home together in silence, your respective flowers clutched in your hands. Minho was never good with words. Sadness engulfed him because he couldn’t do enough to make his best friend smile again. What was the point of a best friend if they didn’t make you laugh when you were crying?

Minho walked into school the next day with a proud smile on his face before placing his last baby tooth on your desk. You eyed it curiously, brows furrowed.

“There, I took it off last night,” He simply said. “Now we’re gonna be grown-ups together.”

At eleven years old, your daily after-school video game appointments began.

You had just cut your hair short; a bob you thought looked cute on your favorite singer turned out to be cataclysmically unflattering on you. And, at eleven years old, it was earth-shattering and definitely the end of your life (despite what your mother told you).

You spent every second out in public with your hair hidden by a beanie, hoping it would distract people from your disastrous haircut.

Except it had the opposite effect.

One particular day at school, a boy came up to you simply to inform you that your head looked like a mushroom before running away, laughing with his friends. They were foolish words spoken by a foolish boy, but you were eleven. Once again, earth-shattering and the end of your life.

You avoided everyone the entire day — including Minho, whom you always talked to no matter your mood. You knew you wouldn’t be able to avoid him for much longer, seeing as he walked you home every day, so you simply prayed he wouldn’t notice your puffy eyes or that he at least hadn’t heard any of the other kids making unfunny jokes about your haircut.

After school, Minho sighed in feigned annoyance when you told him you had lost your gloves again before retrieving a pair from his backpack. Like a habit, you asked if he wanted to hang out at your house, although the answer was always unchanging.

“My mom’s baking a cake,” you told him. “We can play video games and then eat it together.”

Minho hummed in agreement, adjusting his backpack before grabbing your hand as you two began your daily walk to your house. It was something you always did, never walking anywhere without your hands clasped together. These past few months, however, this once ordinary gesture had begun making your heart beat faster. You didn’t understand why, and you would rather not think about it because every time you did, the words from your other friends would echo inside your head. Their stories about how they felt their hearts racing when their crush had hugged them or even looked their way, making you question if maybe…

But it couldn’t be. Minho was your best friend. How could he be your crush?

It was another one of those afternoons, your mom busily making you two sandwiches as you and Minho played New Super Mario Bros on your Wii under the blanket fort you always meticulously built. Minho had been acting weird all day — even weirder than you, who had to endure all the asinine jokes and hurtful words from your peers. As you completed the last level for the umpteenth time, saving Princess Peach, Minho all but threw his controller to the side. You turned to shoot him a questioning look, which went ignored as he rummaged through his backpack.

He retrieved a crumpled-up piece of paper, which he promptly gave to you.

You cocked your head, awaiting some sort of explanation, but Minho simply picked up his controller once more and hit play on the game.

Unfolding the paper, words greeted you in Minho’s messy handwriting.

YOUR HAIR LOOKS CUTE. STOP HIDING IT.

Your lips parted slightly, but before you could say anything to him, Minho reached out and snatched your beanie from your head. Your short hair and bangs cascaded onto your face, partially obscuring your view. But you could still make out his side profile, where a faint smile appeared on his lips.

After that, you two were silent for the rest of the day, eventually dozing off under the tent lulled by the sound of your mother’s hand mixer and Mario’s theme song. The sun eventually set outside the window, and you woke up to two plates of your mother’s cake waiting for you on the coffee table.

From that point on, your beanie was left forgotten inside your drawer.

You were fifteen when you realized that perhaps your feelings for Minho weren’t all that platonic after all.

It all started with a letter on Minho’s desk on a rainy Friday. October 25th, Minho’s birthday.

Minho’s quiet nature hadn’t changed one bit since you first sat beside him at four years old. He would rather die than start a conversation, rarely went out to the movies with your friend group and, most importantly, hated being the center of attention. That was why he told no one about his birthday since you two began high school this year. It was the subject of much debate among your little group of friends, with some bribing Minho with his favorite snacks or promising to do his assignments until college just for some sort of clue; a day, month, even the day of the week he was born.

But Minho never budged.

So, seeing a letter on his desk on the day of his birthday was odd, to say the least.

You arrived back to the classroom late after chatting to your friend from another class in the hallway, catching as Minho sat down with a puzzled look on his face and an open letter in his hands.

“What’s up?” You asked, sitting on the desk in front of him.

He looked up, thick glasses crooked from a dodgeball incident earlier that week. “Yumi found out it’s my birthday today,” He informed you, a bit too nonchalantly. “She organized a birthday party at her house tomorrow with our friends.”

You immediately took the letter, reading it and blanching at the words written in the girl’s pretty handwriting. She had found out Minho’s birthday by snooping around Facebook until she found his mother, who had a plethora of pictures of Minho on his previous birthdays. Not only that, the letter ended with a paragraph where she confessed her feelings to him — with all the clichés and dramatics only an adolescent crush could provide.

You still remember your first thoughts upon learning that information: Oh, Yumi. Of course a girl like her would do something like this.

You cringe at your words now, but at fifteen, you deemed no girl worthy of your best friend. Especially ‘girls like Yumi,’ who in your eyes all but threw herself at him. At the time, you thought you were looking out for the boy who was practically your brother. Now, you understand you were simply an insecure fifteen-year-old who allowed ugly, misogynistic thoughts to brew inside your mind out of fear of losing Minho. For your immature brain, every girl interested in Minho was an enemy because they could easily take him away from you.

And Minho had never reciprocated any girl’s feelings, always politely turning down the few confessions he had gotten during middle school. You were ready to berate Yumi, your brows immediately furrowing as your face contorted, but Minho beat you to it, speaking before you could utter a word.

“I know I should be mad, but isn’t it a little… cute?”

You couldn’t help but scoff, the sound escaping your lips like a burst of disbelief. You also couldn’t help how your hands began to tremble as your heart shot up to your throat.

“Cute?” You asked with the strongest voice you could muster. “You think her invading your privacy is cute?”

And Minho simply shrugged, tapping his fingers on his desk. “A little bit. I know you don’t really like her, but she’s part of our friend group,” He said, taking the letter from your shaky hands. “Plus, she’s always been nice to me, and she is cute.”

That was all you could physically bear to hear, excusing yourself from the conversation with the lie that your friend had called you from the classroom window before sprinting out into the hallway. As you continued walking, your palms grew clammy and your heart weighed heavily in your chest.

You felt tears well up in your eyes once you reached the stairs. Sitting on the steps, you cried into the cardigan of your ugly school uniform. You didn’t care that you would be scolded for skipping class; all you cared about was that your best friend was going to be taken from you.

After school, as you and Minho were about to exit the school gates — your hands tightly clasped together as they always were — Yumi appeared carrying a cake, the rest of your friends behind her as they all sang happy birthday.

Minho blew out the candles and made a wish. Everyone cheered as his best friend, Chan, shoved his face into the cake. Minho yelled at him, grumbling with glasses covered in white frosting, but ultimately laughing along. Yumi was quick to clean his face with a napkin, earning her a smile from Minho before he released your hand to gently squeeze her rosy cheeks.

You remained quiet, forcing out a smile and looking up at the sky every now and then so your tears wouldn’t fall.

All because Minho had let go of your hand.

Minho’s fifteenth birthday — that was the day you learned you could fool everyone else, but never yourself.

Your seventeenth summer was a drag.

Minho had just been broken up with a couple of months before, Yumi crying as she explained her parents wanted her to focus on her studies, and having a boyfriend was simply a distraction she couldn’t afford if she wanted to be a doctor someday. An unwilling participant in the entire situation, you sat awkwardly at the bus stop as she spoke.

You were ready to witness Minho cry for the first time in your life, maybe yell about how unfair her parents were being, but he simply pressed a kiss to her forehead just as your bus arrived.

Not much had changed when he began dating Yumi, with you learning that suppressing how you truly felt was worryingly easy. You still hung out with them, battling through their cuddles and kisses like a soldier on the front lines of a war. Never unscathed, but always strong. Nobody needed to know about how you cried into your mother’s arms almost every night before falling asleep.

The only change had been you and Minho’s daily gaming appointments. You two had since outgrown your video game phase, both now interested in diverging things that made it impossible for you to enjoy them together. You discovered your love for flowers went beyond doodling on the sidewalk in front of a flower shop, but Minho complained that growing flowers was too time-consuming, and he loved dancing, which you were far too uncoordinated and lazy to even try doing.

And so, you two settled for simply hanging out together at your house. Your room had easy access to the roof, which you two took full advantage of, setting up a permanent blanket fort where you would snuggle up with pillows and talk for hours after school.

That summer was no different, with Minho stretched out across the old mattress, watching the light pink sky slowly fade away as night set in while you two busied yourselves talking.

That was the day you finally gathered the courage to ask Minho about his breakup, desperate to understand why he had appeared so unfazed. After the one-year milestone of their relationship in February, you had begun to make peace with the fact that she would probably be around for a while.

Minho shrugged at your question, hands resting on his stomach while he gnawed on his bottom lip. He explained he was sure that he liked her, but it turned out he valued her as a friend much more than as a girlfriend.

You couldn’t help but scoff at the answer. You knew Minho better than you knew yourself at times, which was why you knew he was lying through his teeth.

“Why did you stay so long with her, then?” You questioned, the resentful lilt in your voice a bit too obvious. You cleared your throat before adding, “I mean, you surely didn’t act as just friends.”

“I guess I felt lonely before,” He explained. “I was selfish for staying with her, but I enjoyed having someone. Was especially nice after…” Minho trailed off, dismissively shaking his head, and you remember being close to throwing him off that roof as he kept being so damn enigmatic.

“After what?” You prodded, “Minho, I’m your best friend. What’s the point of us talking if you’re not gonna tell me the truth?”

He turned his head to look up at you, the darkening sky making his eyes gleam as if they held an entire galaxy of stars. You felt that familiar nervousness return.

“It was nice to not be so alone after so many years of pining after someone.”

You cocked your head to the side, and Minho had the gall to chuckle at your puzzled expression. You shook your head, mumbling to yourself that your conversation was pointless if he wouldn’t tell you the whole truth.

Lying next to him on the mattress with a sigh, you could feel the weight of Minho’s gaze on you. You couldn’t bring yourself to move.

You remember the moon was already high in the sky by the time one of you finally moved — Minho, who slowly inched his hand closer to yours before clasping it tightly in his. Despite your racing heart, you thought nothing of it. He was now single, so it wouldn’t be ludicrous to assume a habit you two had cultivated for many years would naturally return.

However, after some beats from your erratically racing heart, Minho’s fingers intertwined with yours. You had never done that before, always holding hands in a way that all but screamed platonic.

That night, with his thumb caressing your skin and his hand squeezing yours, Minho finally spoke the truth after so long.

“It’s you,” He said, tone nonchalant but voice audibly shaky. “Think I’ve been pining after you since I was nine and ripped my tooth out ‘cause I thought that’d make you stop being sad.”

You remember gasping quietly and his hand tightening around yours as the clock ticked and your silence remained. You remember finally mustering up the courage to turn to look at him and being met by an expression you had rarely seen on Minho’s face in the thirteen years you had known him — he was scared, wide eyes dancing around your face as if he looked for an answer in your features, his chapped lips parted slightly as if he was ready to backtrack the moment he saw any hint of doubt in your eyes.

You remember smiling at him and how his expression shifted into pure confusion. All it took was for him to finally have the nerve to hold your hand in the way he’d always wanted to, and for you to use his courage as a catalyst for your own. You remember how you closed the distance between you two and pressed your lips to his. You remember it feeling weird because you were kissing Minho, your best friend.

But you also remember it feeling right because you were kissing Minho, your best friend.

Your transition from being best friends to being in a relationship was easier than you had ever thought it would be — it was also slower than you could have ever imagined.

Minho never asked you out or confessed his feelings beyond what was said on the roof, and neither did you. It was a shared knowledge between you, a silent agreement that didn’t need words — at least for now. The little gestures and subtle changes left no doubt in your minds that you two were, in fact, no longer just friends — like how you began to always intertwine your fingers while holding hands, or how Minho would pull you onto his lap when you hung out with your friends, or how you would rest your head on his shoulder as he played with your hair during lunch break.

Your friends certainly had questions, the confusion written all over their faces easy to read like a book, but you both knew they also understood your relationship without you needing to make a big deal out of it.

You picked him up from dance class every weekend, sometimes arriving earlier just to catch a glimpse of him through the glass door, as Minho insisted he was too embarrassed to dance in front of you.

One day, thoroughly unprompted, he reached into his backpack as you two exited his dance academy and pulled out a yellow tulip. You had furrowed your brows at the sudden gesture, and Minho nonchalantly told you that planting your favorite flower was surprisingly easy. Since becoming teenagers, you had stopped going to Ms. Kim’s flower shop, and you had long forgotten about how you two used to have your own respective flowers back in the day.

It seemed Minho hadn’t forgotten.

That was one thing you had come to know about him only after you began dating. Although he seemed cold and distant on the outside — rarely communicating his feelings through words — Minho secretly kept a mental note of every little detail about the people he cared about, and he unfailingly found a way to communicate his feelings through actions. Such as promptly handing you a brand-new flower he had picked before you even had the chance to mourn your tulip as it began to wilt.

You, on the other hand, had always been the type of person to communicate through words; spoken, written, or read, which is how you began saving your best daisies from the small garden you created in your backyard and practicing your flower arrangement skills exclusively by making pretty bouquets you could gift to Minho (always with little notes hidden among the flowers).

Your once explicitly platonic roof dates also left no room for doubt, as making out under your usual tent became a hard-to-break habit. In fact, that was how your family found out about your relationship. You were eighteen, with graduation just around the corner, when your mother caught Minho kissing you as tears welled up in your eyes at the thought of having to be apart from him during college (although you both knew that would never be the case, as you always moved mountains simply to stay together).

Everything was slow-paced, and neither of you had any desire to rush anything. Once, Minho told you he had waited eight years to finally kiss you, and somehow, that anticipation was what had made it all the more special.

And so, your first proper date only happened six months after your first kiss, and your first fight only happened a year and a half into your relationship. Not to mention your first I love you, which had been a slip-up that happened only in your first year of college after a drunken night with Chan and Minho. Your head on his lap, your tulip nestled among his daisies in a pretty vase on the coffee table as Chan hummed along to some song that came from his phone. You felt as if your entire being was filled with pure gratitude at that moment, and the liquid courage that flowed through your veins only helped you mutter out how much you loved Minho.

He looked down at you, hands cupping your cheeks with a silly smile adorning his face, and simply answered, “Well, I love you more.”

Your carefree attitude toward your relationship was almost a contrast to the one you had with your friendship. You and Minho had met so young that you could never truly pinpoint when you had become such close friends. You always wondered if that was what led you two to be so easygoing with what most people rush into. Things happened when they were supposed to happen.

You remember one of Minho’s new friends, Changbin, asking something about your sex life at some party during freshman year, and you two nonchalantly answering that you didn’t really have one. Your friends’ shock was understandable, but you and Minho only laughed.

Things happened when they were supposed to happen.

It was Minho’s 21st birthday, when your flowers were no longer in bloom, but your love remained blossoming like it was mid-spring. He had, as always, vetoed any and every plan of a celebration suggested by your friends. He opted to stay in with you, cuddling under a blanket fort like you had been doing for so many years. Chan graciously offered to sleep at a friend’s dorm, leaving your small shared apartment just for you and Minho.

He hadn’t planned for anything to happen, and neither had you. You were simply lying together, watching the flickering of the candles you had set up around the coffee table, recounting the innumerable memories you shared when you suddenly felt the earnest, all-consuming need to have Minho as close as possible.

It was clumsy, both of you inexperienced and nervous. Your teeth crashed together and your hands gripped each other tightly, the realization of the intensity of your yearning becoming undeniable. At some point, the entire tent collapsed on top of you, and laughter filled the room for a brief moment before being replaced by your sighs and whispered moans.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was you and Minho.

Graduation day was a blur in your mind.

It had all started with Minho and Chan drunk at eleven a.m., offering you the awful-tasting omelet they had cooked in your cramped kitchen. They then went on to zone out for most of the ceremony after stumbling out of your apartment.

You approached Minho after he was done taking pictures and getting scolded by his family for being drunk on his graduation day, his mother giving you an apologetic look as you whisked him away.

“You’re stressed,” you pointed out.

“Yeah.”

“Me too,” you replied with a sigh, resting against a large tree far enough away from the hustle and bustle of recently graduated students and crying families. “So is Chan. Don’t think I’ve seen him this drunk since Jisung’s birthday party last year.”

Minho chuckled, shifting on his feet and toying with the fabric of his gown. You furrowed your brows; he only ever got fidgety when hiding something. You learned that for the first time when you were thirteen and he had to wait until your birthday to tell you he’d gotten you two tickets to see your favorite band, and again when he had to keep Chan’s then-girlfriend’s plans of asking him to move in together a secret.

“You’re not nervous ‘cause of graduation, are you?”

You remember the way he stilled almost immediately.

“We always tell each other the truth, right?” He asked.

You remember the way your whole world spun as he pulled out a small box from his pocket and how everything seemed to fade into a white mist that surrounded Minho like a spotlight as he proposed to you.

Your wedding was small — both because that was how you had wanted it to be and because of your lack of money for a proper party.

After graduating, Minho became a dance teacher at the academy he attended as a teen, teaching little kids who he said always reminded him of you two. You used the money your parents had saved for you to travel after college to buy the old flower shop that held so many memories from your childhood. Neither of you used your degrees, and neither of you made a lot of money, but you were overflowing with an infatuation for life and a love for each other so great that it made up for any silly inconvenience that dared to come up.

The ceremony was held at a local church — although neither of you was particularly religious, that was the cheapest place available. You opted to walk down the aisle together; hands clasped the way you used to do for many years while walking home from school. Minho held onto a daisy bouquet you made, while you held the single tulip he had picked out for you that day.

“I’m not good with words,” was how Minho began his vows, the glow of the fairy lights and candles adorning the church rendering his attempt at hiding his tears futile. That was the first time you had ever seen him cry in the twenty-one years you’d known him. “But I think that never mattered with you. You know me better than I know myself. Most times, I don’t even have to say a word, and you’ll still understand me. It’s been this way since we were four, and you understood why I was so quiet, and you still chose to be my friend. Thank you for understanding me, and thank you for allowing me to love you. Loving you is what I do best and look how lucky I am; I’ve been able to do it for my whole life.” He then shot you a grin, the back of his hand wiping away your tears. He ended his speech with a line that was so very Minho, thought up with sincerity but spoken primarily to make you smile. “You’ve always felt like home, and I can’t wait to feel that way until we’re both food for the worms to eat.”

You had never cried so much as you did on the day of your wedding — which was remarkable, seeing as you’d been a crier your whole life. You remember the irony of it all; Minho, who had never been good with words, telling you about his love with words that came from his heart and spilled from his lips without any rehearsal, while you were rendered speechless and too emotional to even attempt to form a coherent sentence.

Your wedding vow was a simple, choked-up, “Thank you for being my best friend, Minho.”

Minho carried you home from the church, with your cheeks flushing pink and his smile beaming as your friends made rice cascade around the two of you like snow. It turned out the boy who hated attention didn’t mind the spotlight so long as it meant showing off his love for you.

Your honeymoon was spent in your small house above your flower shop — which you named Daisy’s Tulips — where you cuddled under a blanket fort the entire day, only leaving the comfort of the pillows and fluffy covers well after midnight to adorn the sidewalk in front of your house in a brand new chalk drawing.

“Can you imagine if we never said anything?” Minho suddenly wondered aloud, his chuckle echoing through the quiet street. “We were both pretty good at hiding our feelings for so long.”

And you simply shook your head, painting a daisy with white chalk on the sidewalk. “Minho, I know you. You wouldn’t have let me keep pretending after finding out I liked you too.”

“Who says I would have found out?”

“You said it yourself,” you explained, “I know you better than you know yourself, and that’s reciprocal. You would’ve found out ‘cause I can never hide anything from you.”

And Minho smiled, taking your hand in his just as you were done with your drawing. Your gaze shifted toward him, and you admired the man he had become. From the shy little boy who sat beside you to the quiet teenager with thick glasses to the man he had grown into; you loved every version of Minho you had the privilege to meet throughout your life, and you were certain you would love every new version of him you came to know in the future as well.

“Of course you can’t,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I’m your best friend, aren’t I?” He asked with a grin, and you nodded. He then added, “Thank you for being my best friend.”

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist

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munson-blurbs · 1 year

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Summary: Conflict arises with Harris's new teacher, filling Halloween with more tricks than treats. But it's nothing a visit with Ms. Sweetheart can't fix.

Warnings: allusion to Reader and Eddie's one-night stand, panic attack, Reader's grandma has dementia.

WC: 5.6k

Chapter 6/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika

Guns N’ Roses t-shirt: check. Goodwill jeans with makeshift holes in the knees: check. Bandana tied snugly around his forehead: check. Arms littered with an assortment of temporary tattoos: check.

Eddie grins as he assesses his son’s costume, reaching into the thrift store bag as he pulls out the pièce de résistance: a denim jacket, only two sizes bigger than Harris would usually wear. It was a bit over what he’d been hoping to spend, but he’d reasoned with himself that it could also be worn after Halloween. It was an investment, he’d decided, not a splurge.

His smile falters when Harris indignantly stomps his foot, crossing his arms over his chest. While Eddie had hoped his son would go with more badass tattoo options, perhaps a skull and crossbones or even a snake, he had insisted on a Sesame Street theme. Cookie Monster munches on his signature treat as Harris pouts.

“No, Daddy!” he whines, twisting away when Eddie holds the jacket closer to him. “I can’t wear that!”

“C’mon, Har,” he tries, scouring his brain to come up with a convincing enough lie. “Axl Rose wore jackets all the time!”

Harris doesn’t just shake his head; he swivels his entire body back and forth in protest. “I don’t care! No one’s gonna be able to see my tattoos!” He holds out both arms in front of him; nearly every square inch (besides the section blocked by his cast) is covered. Eddie had spent most of last night diligently applying them precisely where Harris had asked, lest there be a tantrum. There was, unfortunately, a headless Elmo from when Harris had asked–no, demanded–that he try by himself. Still, Eddie figured that only one casualty was a win.

“Those are some sweet ol’ tatties,” Eddie muses, biting back a laugh at the two-dimensional Big Bird on his son’s forearm. “But wouldn’t it be cool if you wore the jacket into school and then–BAM!--took it off and surprised everyone with them?

Harris appears to consider this, mouth tucked into his cheeks. “Can I show Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Sure, bud. We’ll stop by her classroom when I pick you up.” Whatever gets us out of the house in weather-appropriate attire. “But first, show me your most metal pose.”

The boy opens his mouth wide and sticks out his tongue as far as it extends, scrunching his face dramatically until the corners of his eyes crinkle. His middle and ring fingers press into his palm, thumb crossing over them, with his forefinger and pinky raised in the quintessential rock ‘n roll symbol.

Eddie swoops down and smacks a wet kiss to Harris’s cheek. “That’s my boy!”

Standing among the crowd of parents at pick-up, Eddie opts out of making banal small talk and instead chooses to look at the bulletin board. The previous art project that had been hanging against the faded blue paper–”self-portraits” that the students had made on the first day of school–have been replaced by finger paintings of orange blobs that vaguely resemble pumpkins. There wasn’t one for Harris because he was in Ms. Sweetheart’s classroom then, so it’s his first art project in his new class. He eagerly scans the board for Harris’s, frowning when he can’t find his name.

Maybe it’s still drying, he tries to convince himself, imagining his son over-saturating the paper with globs of paint. It wouldn’t be entirely out of character.

Ms. Marion’s classroom is a sea of costumed children. A boy dressed as one of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles stands by his mom. A Cinderella, a black cat, and a Thomas the Tank Engine surround Ms. Paula. As soon as Eddie spots Harris, he smiles and waves him over, hurriedly scribbling his signature on the sign-out sheet.

He expects Harris to zoom past the other kids, fueled by the standard Halloween diet of sugar and chocolate, but he just kind of…mopes to the doorway. His shoulders slump dejectedly, and though he keeps his gaze low, Eddie can still see the film of mist staining his innocent eyes.

“Har, what’s wrong?” He waits for an answer, and when he doesn’t receive one–an oddity for his perpetually chatty son–he tries a new tactic. “Wanna show me where your artwork is? I must be gettin’ old, because I couldn’t find it on the board out there.”

“‘S not there,” Harris mumbles, scratching off a flaking piece of the Rosita tattoo on the back of his hand. “I didn’t get to finish.”

Eddie watches as the tears start to slip down his cheeks, and he brings him into the hallway before Ms. Marion or Ms. Paula sees what’s going on. He can’t be certain, but his paternal instincts tell him that they’ve contributed to Harris’s sad state. “Why not?”

“I-I t-tried, but M-Ms. Mar-Marion and Ms. P-Paula got m-mad at me.” The words come out between choked sobs. “‘C-Cuz I c-couldn’t sit d-down.”

“What do you mean?”

“I k-keeped st-standing up, ‘cuz m-my legs wanted to st-stand.” The explanation tumbles out of him so quickly, as though he’s trying to beat the clock. “And they s-said if I did-didn’t sit down, I c-couldn’t do art. But I k-keeped f-f-forgetting, and th-they t-taked away my pay-pay-paper and said, ‘sit in the c-corner!’”

Eddie’s breath hitches, and he has to clear his throat before speaking again. “Did…did that happen in Ms. Sweetheart’s class? The legs thing?”

“Mhm,” Harris manages, “b-but she let me stand and d-do ju-jumps to get the wig-wiggles out. She just t-t-telled me not to do ju-jumps with s-s-scissors, ‘cuz of s-safety.” His breathing increases to a rapid pace, face flushing red as his chest heaves. “B-But Ms. M-Marion ye-ye-yelled at me!”

Eddie’s brows pinch together, and he gently presses his calloused palms against Harris’s narrow shoulders, desperate to prevent him from hyperventilating. “Harris, you gotta calm down. I can’t understand you when you’re crying like this!” Despite his efforts, his frustration bleeds into his tone, and he winces when the latter sentence ends with an unwanted snap. “Shh, it’s okay. It’s just an art project.”

“Harris?”

The sound of your voice draws the attention of both Munsons. You let out a small oof as Harris flings himself against your legs, and though he practically flew the five foot distance between his father and you, now is not the time to remind him about using his walking feet.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” You crouch down, taking his hand in yours, and notice his quick, shallow breaths. “We’re gonna breathe together, okay? Eyes on me.” You demonstrate inhaling for three seconds, holding for three seconds, and exhaling for three seconds. “Now let’s do it together.”

He hesitates but ultimately follows your lead, and you guide him until his breathing slows enough for him to sputter, “I t-tried to sit, b-but I c-couldn’t.”

You haven’t the slightest idea what he’s referring to, but Eddie fills you in. You feel the heat of anger creeping through your body, not just for the way your co-worker treated the sweet boy, but for her insolent approach to teaching as a whole.

“We can go to my classroom,” you offer, silently sighing in relief when the boy nods in agreement. “I don’t know if I have the supplies to make the same project as Ms. Marion, but if you have a few minutes, you can draw something now. I bet Mr. Will would love to help you; he’s a super-duper artist.”

Just as you’d predicted, Will jumps at the opportunity to help Harris with his impromptu art project, encouraging him to draw something that makes him happy. While he does that, you comb through the mess left behind from the Halloween party you’d thrown. You’d sooner toss one hundred cupcake wrappers in the trash before attempting a conversation with Eddie Munson. He’s simply too unpredictable; kind and thoughtful one day, harsh and guarded the next.

One of the wrappers in your hand drops to the floor and you reach forward to pick it up, pinching the pleated material between your pointer and middle fingers. You can feel Eddie’s eyes on your form, the way the backs of your thighs are slightly exposed when you bend over, and you stand up quickly.

“Are you the Magic School Bus lady?” He takes in your lavender dress with planets and stars stamped all over it. Oh. He wasn’t checking you out; he was just trying to figure out who you’d dressed up as. Good. Anything else would be inappropriate.

So why does a twinge of disappointment radiate through you?

You glance at your costume; with all of the commotion, you’d forgotten you’d even been wearing one “I mean, would I even be a teacher if I didn’t jump at the chance to be Ms. Frizzle?” You motion over to Will, decked out in green from head to toe with two yellow horns glued to a headband atop his mop of brown hair. “Have you met my trusty sidekick, Liz the Lizard?”

Eddie laughs. “Yeah, Byers actually used to play in my D&D club back in high school. Made some pretty sick art pieces to liven up that dingy excuse for a room.”

You look between the two of them, trying to do the mental math. “Will, didn’t you say you’re twenty-four?” And if Eddie is thirty, that means…

“I, uh, had a little trouble graduating,” Eddie sheepishly admits, ruffling the back of his hair and offering a tight grimace. “But I got there eventually. Class of ‘86, baby!”

“Worked out for me,” Will shrugs with a grin, looking up from Harris’s drawing. “You were the best DM Hellfire ever had. Although, rumor has it that Erica Sinclair gave you a run for your money.”

Harris picks up a yellow marker, furiously scribbling a circle in the left-hand corner of his paper. You try peering over to see the whole drawing, but he presses his whole body against the table, successfully thwarting your plans. “No peeking!” he warns, not putting his feet back on the ground until you’ve averted your gaze. “‘S a surprise.”

You put your hands up in surrender. “All right, all right. I’ll be surprised.” You raise your eyebrows at Eddie, who shares a similar response in return.

“Dunno when he got so bossy,” he snorts before calling out to his son, “Har-Bear? Five more minutes. We gotta get home to trick-or-treat with Grampa Wayne.”

“Ooh, that sounds like fun!” you echo as Harris grabs a purple marker from the box. “What’s your favorite candy?”

“Hmm.” Harris uses his free hand–the one with the cast–to tap his chin, continuing to color with the other one. “M&Ms. But only the plain ones. Daddy doesn’t let me have the peanut ones ‘cause he says I could choke.”

You shoot a sly, knowing look at Eddie. “I’m sure that’s the only reason. Such a selfless father.” You cross your arms over your chest and cock your head innocently. “And what do you do with all of these confiscated peanut M&Ms, Mr. Munson? Donate them?”

Eddie tucks his lips into his mouth to mask his grin. “Listen, the jig is gonna be up at some point,” he mumbles out of the corner of his mouth, loud enough so you can hear but soft enough that Harris can’t. “Let me enjoy my free candy while it lasts.”

“No judgment here,” you say with a small laugh, “they’re one of my favorites, too.”

“TA-DA!” Harris shouts, startling you, Eddie, and Will. He holds up the construction paper and smiles widely. To anyone without kids–or who didn’t teach preschool for a living–it would look like a bunch of colorful scribbles. But you can tell that he’s drawn a group of people standing by a tree (or a really, really tall flower) underneath the sun.

“Wow, Harris! That’s amazing!” you clap your hands together to punctuate your enthusiasm. “Who are all those people?”

Harris’s pointer finger travels left to right across the paper as he names each person: “That’s me, Grampa Wayne, Daddy, you, and Mr. Will!” The stick figure that represents you has a purple scribble on it, which you realize must be the costume you’re wearing. “An’ we’re all smiling because we’re happy!” Sure enough, each person has a curved red line at the bottom of their face. But there’s something else that catches your eye.

All of the people have a small space between them, except for you and Eddie. The circle that Harris drew to represent your left hand overlaps with the circle that is Eddie’s right.

You glance at the real Eddie, and if he notices, he doesn’t give any indication. “I love it, buddy.” He takes the drawing and inspects it closely. “Yup, this one’s definitely going on the fridge when we get home.” He flicks the paper for good measure. “Go clean up the markers so we can head out, Axl Rose.”

Among the noise of markers clattering back in the bins, you lean in to Eddie, inadvertently inhaling the scent of his cigarettes and cologne. For a brief moment, you’re transported back to the night fate had led you to cross paths; the thought of his lips on your neck in the stairwell has you clenching your thighs and swallowing thickly as you murmur, “I can ask him to make a new one with just you, him, and his grandpa.”

Eddie shakes his head. “N-No. I like this one.” He lets one hand drop to his side and it grazes yours. His rings brush your knuckles, and you instinctively draw back at the sensation of the cool metal and the zing of heat that pulses at his light touch. “Sorry,” he mumbles, not making eye contact.

“S’okay.”

He blinks a few times and redirects his attention to his son. “What do you say to Mr. Will and Ms. Sweetheart for letting you do your art project?”

Harris’s little chest swells as he inhales deeply, storing up as much oxygen as he can fit in his lungs before bellowing, “THANK YOUUUUUUU!”

Eddie brings his palm to his ear canal, rotating his forefinger as though trying to repair a punctured eardrum. “Love the enthusiasm,” he says through gritted teeth. “Seriously, though. Thank you both so much.”

“Of course,” Will says warmly, picking up the marker bin and placing it in its space on the shelf.

“Anything for Harris.” You smile, motioning towards the little boy already by his father’s side. “Have fun trick-or-treating tonight, bud! I can’t wait to hear about all the yummy candy you got.”

Harris scrunches his nose in contemplation. “Are you going trick-or-treating, Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Nah,” you laugh, “I’m gonna stay home and give candy to all the kids who come by.” And pray that Grandma doesn’t curse them out, you silently add.

“Oh.” Harris pauses, grabbing his dad’s hand. “Okay, bye!”

Eddie chuckles as his son pulls him towards the door. “That’s my cue. Um, Happy Halloween,” he adds awkwardly, waving once before disappearing down the hallway.

There’s so much more that he wants to say: you’re the best; you saved the day; you should be my son’s teacher instead of that old, bitchy bat. But he didn’t have time. Maybe another day. At least, that’s what he tells himself.

Wayne arrives just a few minutes after Eddie and Harris get home. As soon as his gruff voice comes over the intercom, Harris excitedly buzzes him in. “Grampa Wayne’s here!” he yells, even though Eddie’s standing right next to him. He grabs the pillowcase from the couch; it was originally white, but after Eddie accidentally threw in a red sock with the white laundry, it’s tinted light pink.

No sooner does the older man cross the threshold into the apartment, Harris is trying to drag him out again. “Let’s go, before all the good candy is gone!” he whines. His eyebrows pinch together and he drops his grandfather’s hand. “Oh, wait, I gotta show you something.” He scampers off into the kitchen, and Wayne winces when he hears the rattle of magnets falling to the floor.

“I’m okay!” Harris calls out, running back with a piece of paper in his hand. “Look what I drawed at school today!” He gives Wayne the rundown of who’s who.

Wayne analyzes each person in the picture, stopping at the overlapping circles between you and Eddie. “This is great, Har-Bear,” he muses. “Are, um, are Daddy and Ms. Sweetheart holding hands?”

“Mhm,” Harris casually confirms, taking the drawing back. “‘Cause they’re married.”

Eddie chokes on air as Wayne does a double-take. “Congrats, Ed,” he jokes, clapping a hand to his nephew’s shoulder. “Gotta say, I thought I’d at least get an invite.”

“Shut up,” Eddie grumbles, rolling his eyes. “Harris, why do you think that Ms. Sweetheart and I are married?” He wracks his brain for answers, but he can’t come to a logical conclusion. Did I talk about her in my sleep? Oh, shit, what if it was when I had that dream—

“Because you gived her a present,” Harris says, eyes innocent and wide. “And when grown-ups love each other, they give each other presents.”

“Oh, he gave Ms. Sweetheart a present, huh?” On the surface, Wayne’s words are as innocuous as Harris’s, but Eddie hears the teasing buried just beneath.

Harris nods. “Mhm. He gived her a tape!”

“It was the Toni Braxton one that she came into the shop for…that day that, uh…” Eddie raises his eyebrows at his uncle, who nods in acknowledgment. He brings his focus back to his son. “It doesn’t mean that we’re married. People have to go on dates and fall in love before they get married.”

The young boy absorbs this information. “So you should go on dates and fall in love with Ms. Sweetheart!” His face lights up at the idea of it, and it breaks Eddie’s heart to let him down.

So, he doesn’t.

“Why don’t you hang that back up so we can get outta here and get you some candy, huh?” He forces a smile and watches his son scamper into the kitchen before turning back to Wayne and shaking his head.

Harris peels a magnet off of the fridge, the one Eddie bought him on their Daddy-Son day. It has a sea lion balancing a beach ball on its snout, with HAWKINS ZOO printed in bolded letters along the bottom.

Lowering his voice to a whisper, he speaks directly to his drawing. “When Daddy and Ms. Sweetheart fall in love and get married, I’ll finally have a mommy.” He presses his hand flat against the paper as though he’s sealing in the wish. He stays like that for a moment until his dad calls his name, and he clutches his pillow case as they head out the door.

Eddie assumes that the love and marriage talk is done for the evening, but the feeling of relief doesn’t last long. The trio of Munson men is halfway down the stairwell when Wayne starts instigating. “Hey, Har, is Ms. Sweetheart pretty?”

“WAYNE!” Eddie grits his teeth and shoots a sharp look at his uncle. The last thing he needs is for Harris to get his hopes up about a blossoming romance between his dad and his former teacher.

“Oh, yeah!” Harris gleefully agrees, oblivious to the mounting tension. He grips the railing and jumps from the second to last step onto the tiled landing below. “Super pretty! Like a princess.”

The eldest Munson turns to Eddie. “Didja hear that? Pretty like a princess.”

“I heard him,” Eddie replies tersely.

“Daddy?”

No. Don’t ask me. Harris Wayne Munson, do not ask me what I think you’re going to—

“Do you think Ms. Sweetheart is pretty?”

Although he anticipated the question, Eddie still freezes. If he disagrees, Harris will inevitably want to know why not. And if he’s being honest with himself, he can’t name a single ugly thing about you.

He does think you’re pretty. He thinks you’re beautiful. Gorgeous. Stunning. And even though he’s literally seen you naked, fully on display for him–a memory he revisits more often than he’s willing to admit–it’s the thought of what you did today that solidifies your beauty. The way you’d effortlessly calmed Harris down without Eddie even having to ask. The frown on his face almost instantly became a smile, the flow of his tears ceasing and turning into the giggles that brought sunlight into Eddie’s life. You did that.

Any woman can be sexy, but you? In that moment, you were perfect.

Fuck.

“Daddy? Hello?”

At the sound of Harris’s voice, Eddie realizes that he physically hasn’t moved from his spot on the stairs. His hand is gripping the banister so tightly that it leaves an imprint in his palm. “Yeah, buddy,” he manages through his Sahara Desert throat. “I think Ms. Sweetheart’s pretty.”

“Like a princess?” Wayne’s eyes twinkle mischievously. It’s been a long time since he’s been able to tease his nephew about a crush, and he’s not passing up this limited opportunity.

“Yeah. Like a princess.”

Education outsiders might think that Halloween is one of the worst days to be a teacher. The lethal combination of sugar and excitement barely contained in tiny costumed bodies seems like a recipe for disaster. But any teacher worth their salt will tell you that there is a day far, far worse than Halloween: November 1st.

On Halloween, there is the expectation for fun. There’s a costume parade, classroom trick-or-treating, and even a little party. The kids are out of control, but who cares? It’s Halloween.

But on November 1st, there is work to be done. And you’re expected to teach the months of the year to 10 four-year-olds who are suffering from candy hangovers and won’t stop asking why they can’t go trick-or-treating again today.

You and Will are preparing for battle as students trickle in, excited to show off the candy stashes they acquired the night before. Abby Carver cries because she ate her Reese’s cup and now she’s sad that it’s gone. Joshua Harrington is continuing to “sling webs” at the other kids despite your incessant reminders that he is no longer Spider-Man. A fight over a KitKat bar breaks out not even five minutes into the day, and you confiscate it before someone causes serious bodily harm.

Two fingers lightly tap on your shoulder—too high up to be a kid—and you whirl around with an irritated, “what?”

“Whoa,” Eddie says, concern etched into his otherwise soft features. He takes a small step back, nearly tripping over a rogue Lego that somehow made its way out of the toy area. He stumbles but catches his balance easily. “Everything okay?”

“‘S a warzone out here,” you try and joke, but you feel it fall flat. You’re too tired for humor. Grandma may not have yelled at the trick-or-treaters like you’d feared, but she did get increasingly angrier with each knock on the door. After the fifth time of her snarling at you to “shut the hell up” (like you could simultaneously be on both sides of the door), you’d relented and just put the candy bowl on the welcome mat, scribbling “TAKE ONE” on a yellow sticky note, adhering it to the plastic container.

Two decades earlier, Halloween at Grandma’s house had a completely different connotation. She’d have a little pizza party all set up for you, and she’d buy a big bag of your favorite candy, in case you didn’t get enough during your door-to-door quests. And she’d always let you watch whatever spooky movie your heart desired, regardless of your parents’ rules.

“That’s what grandmas are for,” she’d said with a wink, and the two of you curled up to watch Little Shop of Horrors. Her demeanor matched the hokey magnet on her fridge that read, If I knew how fun my grandkids would be, I would’ve had them first. You’d stay like that until you both fell asleep, only being roused by your parents arriving to pick you up. The good old days, before Grandma waking up involved watching the confusion in her eyes as she tried and failed to place you.

“C-Can I help you with something?” Your guard goes up immediately when you notice that Harris isn’t with him. The time you’d spent together after school yesterday had been nice, fun, even, but you couldn’t trust that today would be the same. Not after what happened a few short weeks ago.

“I, um…I just swung by to give you this.” He reaches into the inner pocket of his denim jacket; it’s the same one that he lent to Harris when he’d forgotten his at home. A flash of yellow paper catches your eye, and he unfurls his palm to reveal a small bag of peanut M&Ms. “You said they were one of your favorites, right?”

You look at the treat, not willing to reach out and grab it. What if it’s a joke? An elaborate ploy to reel you in, just to shout “gotcha” when you finally let your walls come down?

“Are they poisoned or something?” you quip, crossing your arms over your chest. “Did you spike them with Ex-Lax?”

Eddie’s lips part in surprise before he collects himself. “Guess I deserve that,” he mumbles. “But, no. They’re not. I swear on James Hetfield’s life.” He drags his fingernail over his heart in an X-formation.

You take the bag, inspecting it for any sign of tampering, but you come up short. The edges are sealed, and there are no pinpricks as far as your eyes can see. “Dipped into Harris’s stash for me?”

“Hey, these bad boys are technically mine for the taking until he figures out that he can eat them without dying.” Eddie chuckles lightly, peering at you through impossibly long lashes. “But, yeah, I was hoping you’d accept these as part of my apology. Or apologies, I guess. For, uh, for not calling when I said I would, and all of the awful shi—awful things I said to you.” His voice is barely above a whisper as he steps closer and says, “I am so fucking sorry.”

You make a small tear in the bag, tapping it against your palm until an M&M falls out. Popping the blue candy in your mouth, you allow the shell to start dissolving on your tongue before crunching on the peanut, hoping you can process what he’s said by the time you’re finished chewing.

This is what you’ve been waiting for—an actual heartfelt apology. His brown eyes reflect nothing but shame and remorse, and you can tell by the way that he’s fidgeting with his rings that he’s anxiously awaiting your reply.

His vulnerability softens you slightly, and considering you haven’t keeled over after ingesting the candy, you throw him a bone.

“This fun size bag covers the ‘not calling’ part, but I’m gonna need a lot more candy if you want me to forgive you for what you said at the music store.” You keep your tone light; teasing, even, but there’s a layer of truth to it. He can’t merely waltz into your classroom with a gift and expect you to forget his hurtful words.

Eddie nods, his frizzy curls brushing the tops of his denim-clas shoulders. “I know. I’ve said some pretty terrible things in my life, but that might’ve been the worst. And, um,” he fumbles his words, desperately searching for the right ones. Semantics has never been his forte. “You didn’t deserve that. It’s not true; your grandma didn’t want to forget you. And…neither do I.” When you raise your eyebrows, he starts to backtrack. “Because you’re so great with Harris; like, you understand him and stuff. He’s always talking about you.”

Daddy, do you think Ms. Sweetheart is pretty? The question replays like a song he can’t shake from his head, its melody familiar but the notes still keeping him on edge. Pretty like a princess, only instead of saving her, I’m the one who needs to be rescued. So much for Prince Charming, huh?

The M&M melts in your mouth while you formulate a response to his candid admission. Sweetness seeps into your taste buds as you try to straddle the line between careful consideration and overthinking. Speak too quickly and you might say something you’ll regret. Take too long and you’ll make this even more awkward.

“W-Well, I’m glad to hear that.” Short, simple, to the point. Your words are slightly slurred by the candy obstruction, but what else is there to say? You could add that you forgive him, but you’re truthfully not sure that you do. His words scarred, had taken your already mangled self-worth and snapped it into pieces, and so did his reasoning for hurting you. Despite the love and kindness you’d shown his son, Eddie had fully believed that you were responsible for spreading personal information that would wound him. It was exactly as Jeff had said: Eddie struck below the belt at the first sign of conflict, so determined to protect himself that he didn’t even realize that he was attacking the people on his side.

The sound of books clattering to the floor snatches your attention from him, and you whip your head to your little classroom library to see two kids standing over a pile of fallen books, guilty looks stamped on their faces. “I’ve gotta go,” you blurt out, dashing off to assess the damage. You’ve never been so grateful for your students causing mischief.

The hour hand crawls to the number two; at one point, you swore the clock was moving backwards. The chaos of the morning was only a preview of the rest of the day’s fiascos, but you and Will had navigated as best as you could.

“Jesus,” he murmurs once the kids have all been dismissed, gingerly rubbing his temples, “that was brutal. I can handle the day after Halloween; I can handle Fridays, but when they coincide? Nope, never again.” He slumps into a chair dramatically, letting his arms drape over the sides.

“Gonna have a glass of wine when you get home?” you joke, wiping Play-Doh residue from a tabletop.

Will nods. “Or a whole bottle.” His focus shifts to your desk, and he nods his chin in that direction. “I see you have something to look forward to tonight, too.”

You follow his gaze, widening your eyes when you see the object he’s referring to. A bag of peanut M&Ms–much bigger than the one you’d inhaled this morning–sits on top of your desk calendar; resting next to it is a cassette. You walk over, curiosity getting the better of you. The cassette is Guns N’ Roses’ Appetite for Destruction; you recognize the iconic cover as soon as it comes into view. It’s not your usual music choice, but you’ll listen to almost anything.

There’s a piece of paper taped to the giant yellow M&M bag, folded in equal triads. Messily scrawled across the front in black ink is Ms. Sweetheart. You gently pull the adhesive loose and open the letter, nervously running your forefinger across the irregular edge where it was obviously torn from a composition notebook.

Fun size mistake=fun size bag of candy

Family size mistake=family size bag of candy

I’m really good at fucking things up, but really bad at fixing them. I wish I could say that I didn’t mean to hurt you, but we both know that I did.

You don’t have to forgive me, but I need you to know how sorry I am.

-Eddie

P.S. Not sure if hard rock is your thing, but I saw this at work and it reminded me of the kindness you showed our favorite little Axl Rose yesterday.

“Who’s it from?” Will asks, breaking into your thoughts. “A secret admirer?” He brings his clasped hands to his cheek in mock dreaminess.

You manage a laugh as you fold the note back up and tuck it under the calendar. “If it is, he’s really bad at it, because he signed his name.” When did he even sneak in here to do this? Kind of scary that someone could walk in and you didn’t even notice.

“Aha! So it is a guy!” Will pumps his fist triumphantly, though you’re not quite sure what he thinks he’s won.

“Just Eddie Munson, thanking us for letting Harris draw here yesterday.”

It’s not a total lie, but Will sees right through it. “Uh-huh. Thanking us? So that note is also for me? Can I read it?” He starts towards your desk, outstretched hand reaching towards where you’d tried to hide it, but you playfully swat them away.

You glance at the clock and frown. “If you leave a little early, I won’t tell anyone.”

Will flips you off; over the last two months, you two had developed a sibling-esque relationship that came out more once the kids had left for the day. He grabs his backpack from the supply closet and slings it over his shoulders. “You’re lucky I’m exhausted, or I’d stick around and keep bothering you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You roll your eyes, knowing full well that he’s itching to leave regardless. “Gotta save up your energy for when Marshall visits.”

Will blushes at the mention of his long-distance boyfriend’s name. He still wasn’t out to many people, but when you’d casually mentioned the date Jess had with a girl named Robin, he’d felt comfortable opening up to you. “I can’t wait!” His grin is so wide you swear it’ll stretch right off of his face. “Thanks again; you’re the best.”

That leaves you alone with your gigantic bag of candy, a Guns N’ Roses cassette, and an apology that you have no idea what to do with.

Once again, Eddie Munson has given you more questions than answers.

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@chamomileh0ney @dream-a-little-nightmare @emma77645 @kurdtbean @sheneedsrocknroll92 @tlclick73 @luceneraium @lolly-in-a-strange-land @dylanmunson @bakugouswh0r3

@strangerthingsstories5255 @imaginexred @haylaansmi @adaydreamaway08 @itsalltaken @harmfulb1tch @mimischaos @averagemisfit03 @steddiegarbage @vigilanteshit @ellendemeyer152 @sierrahhh @stevesmunson @hiscrimsonangel @ffrvtvt @mrsjellymunson @idkatee @quentinswife

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

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paintpanic · 4 days

Text

"Deep in his heart? He already knows the outcome. But if he could just reach that bright light..."

From the bottom of my heart, thank you!

This is actually the third time I've drawn this picture.

I drew the first iteration of this in January 2022. At the time, this blog mainly posted joke content and I did all the lineart in MS Paint with a mouse. I

The first remake was drawn in November 2022, a little under a year later. At this point I'd learned how to use Krita, but was still using a mouse. I would until like four months ago lol.

Anyways, thank you again so much for sticking with me through all of my nonsense. I really appreciate you guys.

#ty again again. 2k big number. i appreciate all of you.#i cannot fucking believe this blog is almost three years old #that's like. a long time.#taranza #morpho knight #kirby series

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averyyvoid · 11 months

Photo

Future AU !! inspired by my mutual @ayloverlove !!! First three were drawn in MS Paint during the time where I was dumb of setting things there lol This is for my BiscuitBites likers (or you could call it Nuzi but I prefer to call it BiscuitBites-) and possibly Vizzy (V x Lizzy) likers too? My Headcanon about the baby drones is that they were like packaged babies in front of your doorstep with your DNA samples attached lol (rather than using the human’s way of..that idea i swear i hate that being applied to these poor robots-) So we have Astra Doorman, a teen who grew up with a worker drone mother and a disassembly drone father, feeling upset at her own body for not being some sort of hybrid of both WD and DD so her clothing style is more of DD and we have Serial Designation Lemon, also a teen who grew up with a worker drone and disassembly drone parents, he has a bratty attitude but knows his limits of being one. (he fears Mama Lizzy more than his own DD mother)

#murder drones #murder drones n #murder drones uzi #murder drones fanchildren #murder drones oc #md vizzy #md biscuitbites #md nuzi #i swear to work on this au more often i swear-

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scoutsbabygirl · 8 months

Note

I would like to see headcanons from you about how your favorite mercenaries realize that they fall in love with the reader :333

🎷🐛

my first request! hi my little meow meow! i wrote for all the mercs bc why not?! fluff below the cut! also written in headcannon form! idk how to write for soldier (i just don't see the appeal)

scout:

-why did ms. pauling have to be lesbian???

-when you came along he was immediately drawn to you, maybe it was because you were new and young

-he's way too cocky around you and acts like he doesn't care about you

-after a stern talking to by spy, jeremy decides to ask you out

-other than sports, jeremy loves to paint and draw and is surprisingly good at it. he asks you to make some art with him and of course he draws you

-this melts your heart and you've fallen for him. he's just waiting for the right time to confess and ask you to be his

soldier:

-man has zhanna

pyro:

-hearing you say "you're all good! no worries!" after he lights the hem of you shirt, almost burning you alive. he feels a spark...literally

-pyro slinks around you where ever you may be. in the kitchen baking? pyros throwing flour all over the kitchen. working out? pyros cheering you on. got some spare time? pyros got some crayons, colored pencils and a bunch of coloring books

-spending time with a masked man that the team fears has him drawn to you. the mercs warned you about him, you never felt intimated by pyro yet understood yet you could understand why he was treated differently

-if you're ever sad he will give you the best comfort. he's never shown himself to the mercs but once he sees you cry the mask is coming off and expect kisses to be planted over you

-its a very intimate moment and he just admits it then. he's never had anyone love him back, he's always been depicted as a monster.

heavy:

- won't approach you first. he waits for you to make a move. he knows his size is intimidating in itself and doesn't want to scare you away.

-he's a gentle giant. he's very careful with his words and movements. he's so paranoid that you'll view him as something he's not on the inside.

- one night you cooked with him and he told you all about his life back home, showed you photos of his sisters and taught you basic russian (assuming you don't know any already)

-if you speak russian he'll be over the moon or if you use the simple russian he's taught you he loves you just a little bit more. he adores your accent when you stumble over certain pronunciation. he knows you're the one for him

-when he decides to confess he handwrites you a long poem with an russian to english translation on two separate pages. after he signs his name he writes that he won't bring this up unless you do

-please don't break his heart. he's so sensitive

demo:

- when he confesses he's drunk as fuck. he doesn't even remember when you bring it up the next day.

-is so embarrassed. he's hungover and groggy. he plays it off by acting defensive. "i was just drunk! i meant nothing by it!"

-in the inside he's freaking out. he wanted to plan it out. it's only been 7 or 8 months since you've been at teufort but he fell so quick for you.

-3am outside pointing at the constellations, telling you about old celtic, scottish myths and folklore, shit talking the other mercs, and an accidental kiss on the lips he caught feeling for you right then and there.

- he's willing to give up scrumpy just to have you reciprocate the same feelings for him. 🤞

engineer:

-lord, he used so many pet names with you; "check this out, sweet pea", "you look beautiful, darling", "i made pancakes, you want any hon?"

-he knows his voice with a combination of his pet names do something to you. he loves when you call him those names back!

-compliment his cooking! bbq is his specialty! he'll gladly eat up anything you make. hungry boi :3

-he loves when you spend time with him in his workshop, working on his little metal trinkets warms his soul. he tries to teach you about the intricate parts of engineering. it's okay if you don't understand, he's more than willing to break it down for you and teach you a bite-sized version quantum mechanics

-friday night. a few beers in. a lot of work finished. "(y/n), i know i'm a bit older and dusty at the whole romance thing but" he pauses "you ain't seeing anyone right now, are you?"

medic:

-he either falls in love with you the second he lays his eyes on you or it takes many, many months for him to catch feelings for you. regardless, of how long the process takes his love for you becomes an obsession.

-you begin lingering around his office, inquiring about his tools and weapons. he finds it very interesting that you're not startled by him and his... unethical ways of "doctor assisted suicide"

-internal battles with his conscience. does he want to rip your organs out and shove them in the wrong places? he wants to slice your arteries one by one. yes, he wants to cut your jugular and see how much you bleed before dying. alas, he won't. you're too beautiful to be cut up into pieces. he doesn't want you to die by his hands, he doesn't know what he would do with himself.

-"guten morgen, wie gehts?!" has him weak. just a simple phrase you've rehearsed a few times. you though he would appreciate you taking time out of your day to learn his native tongue. he thinks this is your way of flirting with it (and perhaps it is).

-occasionally he'll call you into his office, not for a checkup by any means but rather just to chat (on company time). he removes the gloves and runs his hands over the scars on your face and neck. "schätzelein, i have been feeling some way for a while."

sniper:

-he is such a cunt. he's so rude and bitchy to you. his attitude causes you to avoid contact with mick at all costs and he avoids you like the plague. he spends a lot of time in his van anyways so staying away from you isn't too hard.

-seeing you hurt breaks his heart. he decides to visit you in medbay after your broke your arm. the baboo uterus experiment procedure wasn't finished by the time you got hurt. you notice how out of character it is but appreciate it regardless. he brings you a little necklace made with animal teeth (him making jewerly with animal bones is the most canon-noncanon headcanon.)

-after you get a cast you ask him to sign it. next to his name he writes a little heart. then scribbles it out. and draws a skull underneath it.

-butterflies in his stomach when he lays eyes on you. he hates that he's gotten feelings for you. you're his teammate, not his partner. not yet atleast. no? why is he thinking like this.

-it's obvious that mick is touch starved of attention, he want to be validated and appreciated. he's also getting shit from his teammates so when you begin to stand up for him and complimenting him he looses his mind.

"scout, you're being mean. no wonder you have no dad, i would leave too. " "he's not ugly at all. you're old and its evident enough in those wrinkles of yours."

-oh god. who knew a petite little thing like you could spit venom. he wants to tell you how he feels so badly but he doesn't want to loose you as a friend.

spy:

-he'll flirt with you before even developing feelings for you. always trying to court you, inviting you over at late hours. he just wants to get laid tbh.

-you're playing hard to get. it excites him a bit but he's much older now so if anything he's annoyed that you won't sleep with him. he tries being more romantic and pushes idea the idea of getting with you sexually and takes a different approach.

-smoking on his red velvet couch until the sun begins to rise, sharing cigs together. he has a small stash of weed (he stole it from scout) but coughs when he smokes it, earning a plethora of giggles from you. now he's smiling and laughing with you despite his lungs being filled with smoke.

-stacks of guy de maupassant on his table near the red couch, he reads the love poems to you and translates it to you. please snuggle up into his chest and try to read the french words yourself. your pronunciation is horrible and your accent is awful. you sound so cute yet so pathetic at the same time.

-he tries to keep his feelings hidden for as long as he can. of course, it slips out. he's stopped wearing the balaclava when around you (and only you, even his own son doesn't know what he truly looks like) so the bright red blush is evident on his face. he tries taking back what he said but there's no use as your already face first into his chest.

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miinatozakiii · 9 months

Text

i fall in love too easily

kindergarden teacher!sana x fem!reader.n (pt.2)

summary: your niece has access to too many romance movies and sana thinks she's in love with someones mother.

wc: 3.2k

warnings: mentions of food

pt. 1, pt. 3, pt. 4

a/n: hi! I hope you all enjoy this! I'll try to update this little series as fast as I can! I have been a bit busy, but I'll try my best. I have some ideas for it, lot's of fluff, lots of wlw pining-ish idk.

anyways, enjoy!

(again, this whole thing is inspired by @soliarus, their take on the prompt is adorable, go check it out!!)

You check the watch on your left wrist, it reads 3:11 pm, meaning Hana would be out in 4 minutes.

You had just got off your 7 hour shift and were worried that you’d be late to pick up your niece, luckily, the school was only a seven-minute drive away.

You fiddled with the collar of the white button-up shirt that you still had on from working, and you wonder to yourself whether anyone would care how dressed up you were, at least, compared to the casually dressed parents, grandparents, and guardians around you. You anxiously waited for the moment when the bell would ring, and you waited for when the kids would be spilling out the entrance doors to reunite with their parents.

You checked your watch again and it hit 3:15 pm, and a loud ring of the bell was heard.

It was only a minute later that you started to see groups of kids being led out by various teachers. You scanned the area for a bit, and thankfully you were tall enough to see over some of the parents’ heads, so that you could see your little niece standing with a group of kids,

You also saw her teacher.

You made your way over to the area where Hana was, and Hana seemed to notice you first because she was already running toward you with her arms out. You wonder how the hell a four year old could make you lose your balance, and you might have to consider her signing up for football due to the way she almost made you fall as she came into contact with your lower body from the hug,

“Y/n!” She grinned, and you kneeled to match her level and give her a proper hug, “I missed you y/n!”

“I missed you too sweetheart, you seem happy.” You say, and you brush some of her hair out of her face,

“Ms. Minatozaki is so nice and sweet, she let us paint and she gave me more stickers for being good! They're sharks too!” the little girl beams, making you smile,

“Is that so?”

“Yes! Does this mean we can go to the cafe? Please? I was good I promise.” Hana pleads, tugging at your rolled sleeve. You hum as you think to yourself,

“Hmm, we’ll have to ask Ms. Minatozaki to make sure, won’t we?” You respond, and you’re really just saying that as an excuse to talk to your nieces' teacher again.

You glance over to where Sana is, smiling and waving to a set of parents and their kid. Her eyes light up with surprise and delight as they meet yours, her cheeks slowly turning a shade of pink, though, you don't notice.

Sana bids a final goodbye to the parents and the kid before you and your niece make your way over to the beautiful young teacher.

“Y/n! It’s lovely to see you again.” Sana greets you, and you feel that warmth in your chest again, your heart skipping a beat.

She still looks as beautiful as she had in the morning, maybe even prettier. That voice of hers is still soft and sweet when she greets you with joy, and her face lights up the same way.

“It’s great to see you again too.” You say, and you subconsciously fix your shirt and dress pants to look more presentable. A smile finds its way to your lips, and Sana’s too. There’s a small moment of silence as you gaze at each other, and you feel that warmth in your ears again, and this time it’s slowly spreading to your cheeks.

You clear your throat and tug at your collar, “How was Hana today?” You say, breaking the slight tension in the air.

Hana looks at her teacher with puppy eyes as she hopes to get a good answer, and Sana giggles to herself softly,

“She was very good today, she was really helpful too,” Sana says, Hana lets out a big sigh of relief.

“Is that so?” You question, and Sana hums in response,

“She helped me put the paintbrushes back, she’s a sweet girl,” Sana explains, and Hana tugs at your hand,

“I told you! I told you I was good, so can we go to the cafe? Please?” Hana pleads, and you nod at the little girl, then bring your gaze back to the woman in front of you.

“I guess we should get going then…” You begin, your gaze tearing away from Sana reluctantly to look back down at the girl beside you, “Why don’t you say bye to your teacher, Hana?”

Hana nods and you watch as Sana crouches down to meet the girl's level, patting her head and ruffling it a little before Hana hugs the teacher, and for a moment you think to yourself: gosh, I wish that were me.

You steal another glance at the young teacher before Hana goes back to you to hold your hand and tug you away. The last look you and Sana share has a sense of longing and an unspoken desire to get to know each other more, and you finally wave to her with a smile, and she gives you that adorable grin back to you and your niece.

“Alright, let’s get going.” You say before taking off Hana’s small school bag and putting it in the front seat, then lifting her up to put her in the carseat in the backseat of your dark green Mercedes. You close the door and make your way to the front seat to start the engine,

“Buckle up!” the little girl exclaims from the back seat, and you laugh,

“Of course, I wouldn’t forget the most important step.” You respond with enthusiasm.

You click shuffle on the playlist that you and Hana had made months ago, and a jazz favorite of yours starts playing. You turn down the volume so it turns into a faint melody in the background as you drive, and Hana starts to hum along.

You park near the cafe in your usual spot and grab Hana’s bag from the passenger seat, then open the door for Hana to jump out. The little girl’s smile widens immediately as she spots the exterior of the cafe, and rushes over to the entrance, and you have to run after her.

“Hana wait! Be careful!” You call out, hurriedly shutting the door and fumbling with the keys in your hand to lock your car, all whilst running after the excited five-year-old.

You two enter the cafe and are immediately met with the familiar and inviting atmosphere. The air is filled with the scent of freshly baked pastries and the scent of espresso shots being pulled, and you can hear the gentle chatter and laughs being shared in the cozy cafe.

There are a few people present in the cafe, though it’s not too busy at the moment. You spot a few adults in their work clothing sitting and chatting at the table for four near the window, sipping on their americanos and lattes. The dim corner to the right is lit up by a small lamp hanging from above and is occupied by a trio of high school students laughing, and they seem to be treating themselves to a small cake.

You scan the area and your look shifts over to where the familiar baker and barista are. The baker notices you and stops what she’s doing to wave,

“Ah, Y/n! You’re back, did you miss me that much?” Dahyun jokes, “Oh, and you brought my favorite customer too.” She adds, redirecting her gaze to meet Hana. Hana gives the dark-haired woman a big, gummy, and toothy smile before going to hug the woman as she walks out from behind the counter,

“Ms. Dahyun! I had my first day of school today! My teacher says I was good!” Hana boasts, and Dahyun laughs before ruffling her hair up a bit,

“Wow, I’m impressed. Hmm… maybe I should give you the special treat I prepared then.”

“Please please please please please please-”

“Alright, alright. A special treat for my favorite customer coming up!” Dahyun says cheerfully. The shorter woman heads behind the counter, and you lift Hana onto the chair thats pushed under the marble surface.

You make your way to where the taller barista works, and he’s busy measuring the coffee grinds for an espresso shot. He furrows his brows as he takes a small portion of the ground coffee out from the portafilter,

“Chaemin,”

He jumps a little and you laugh,

“My god, don’t do that.”

“My fault, can I use the steamer real quick? I need to make something for my niece.”

“You’re giving espresso to a five-year-old?” Chaemin says in surprise, he turns his body to you fully and raises his brows and looks down at you in disbelief,

“Of course not, she’s already a handful without the caffeine. I’m just gonna make her a hot chocolate.”

“I see, okay.” He says, bringing his attention back to the portafilter and tamping the coffee grinds, “By the way, where’s Johnny? I thought he would be the one taking Hana to school, you know, since he's her dad and all.”

“He had this last-minute business trip. He complained about it a lot, but he’ll be back in two days.”

You and Chaemin exchange a few more words, creating some small talk whilst you make the hot chocolate, and Dahyun has already given the giddy five-year-old her cream-filled croissant that has a variety of fruits inside, along with a drizzle of milk chocolate.

“I made it just for you, I even added extra strawberries and chocolate since you like them so much,” Dahyun says, pushing the plate toward the girl.

“Ms. Dahyun you’re the best! It looks really yummy! Thank you thank you thank you!” She says excitedly, and Dahyun pats her shoulder,

“Anything for the young scholar.”

“You never make me anything like that.” You mumble as you make a design with the steamed milk and chocolate,

“You’re not a scholar; in fact, you lack a lot up there.” she jokes, pointing to your head.

“Ouch.” You respond, looking at her with a pout and setting down the hot chocolate with the latte art and giving it to Hana from across the counter. Hana smiles and looks at the drink and pastry eagerly, but just as she is about to dig in, you pause her,

“Phone eats first.” You say, forcing her to pose and smile for the family group chat, she groans in response before Dahyun encourages her to grin for the camera, giving her a thumbs up.

You sit beside Hana and watch her eat while you hold your head in your palm, smiling at her. Dahyun goes back to rolling whatever dough for whatever pastry she was working on before, and you scroll through the family group chat, talking with your brother and mom.

“These are so good, thank you Aunt Y/n,” Hana says with a mouth full of the pastry,

“You should thank Dahyun, but I’m glad you like them. Also, don’t talk while you have so much food in your mouth!” You scold playfully before taking a sip of the iced americano Chaemin had made you. Hana sticks her tongue out at you and you pinch her nose lightly, making the two of you laugh.

“Aunt y/n, can I ask you something?” Hana mumbles after gulping down the bite she had taken,

You raise an eyebrow, “What is it?”

“Do you… Do you like my teacher?”

“Of course, she’s sweet and takes good care of you, I’m fond of her.” You answer before taking another sip of your coffee,

“No, do you like like her? Like in the movies?” And Hana’s directness nearly makes you choke on your coffee,

“W-what? Why- where did this come from?” You question, sitting straight up. Chaemin overhears the conversation and his eyes land on the two of you,

“You like your nieces' teacher?” He says in disbelief, a hand on his hip and a brow raised. You look at your co-worker and then back to your niece,

“N-no, it’s not like that,” You start, trying to keep your voice and tone relaxed (Chaemin and the little girl aren’t fooled), “She’s just nice, we’re just friendly. She’s your teacher, of course I’m going to be friendly with her.”

“Ok, then why did you look at her like that? You looked all lovey-dovey and your ears turned red!”

“Oh? What is this I’m hearing?” Dahyun interjects, and you shoot her a glare before looking back at your niece,

“I- no, It’s not like that! We just met Hana, don’t be ridiculous.” You say defensively, and Hana’s smile grows, it makes you uneasy.

“Your ears are turning red again, just like in those cartoons and movies!”

“What movies are you watching? You’re like, five! Shouldn’t you be watching some normal cartoons? Like something with mermaids or superheros or something?” You say, and now you’re getting more defensive as Dahyun and Chaemin team up with Hana to poke at you.

You roll your eyes at them, but there’s a small smile that tugs at your lips as you think of Sana.

You do not believe in love at first sight, that’s something out of a Disney movie and love is much more complex than that; however, you cannot deny that the woman that will be teaching your daughter every day is one of the most beautiful woman you’ve seen. You think about her stupidly cute smile and contagious laugh, the way her nose scrunches when she would do both, and the way she held your hand when you greeted her. Her soft, unique, and beautiful features sit in your head for a bit, even as you're being teased and poked at.

You think to yourself a bit more and you won’t admit it, but this woman did have an effect on you, and you were scared that it would be harder to hide the more you saw her.

“Look, I just think she’s a nice person okay,” You say, and you begin(or at least try) to change the topic, “Anyways… how was your first day of school? What else did you do?”

Dahyun laughs at your attempt to change the subject and decides to give you a break by going back to what she was doing, and she also gives Chaemin a cheeky look. You ignore their stupid little exchanged looks and give all of your attention to the little girl,

“You were right Y/n, I made a friend! Her name is Jiyeong, she’s taller than me by this much,” and Hana shows you the height difference by pinching her fingers down, except there’s a space in between that you would assume is an inch, “Also,” Hana begins, “Ms. Minatozaki read us a story, she’s super nice. She smiled and laughed a lot, she has such a nice smile! She smiles like a princess," Hana adds, and you really agree with that statement. Hana thinks to herself a bit, "she also helped everyone with their paintings, she’s so cool! I like her a lot.” She states.

You grin at the girl and take her empty plate, pushing it to the other side of the counter for Chaemin to take, “I’m really glad you made a friend, I told you my genes were passed on to you!” You mess with her hair, “And I’m glad you like Ms. Minatozaki, it’s important that you have nice and caring teachers.”

“And pretty teachers too, right?” She teases, and you laugh, messing with her hair once more,

“Alright smarty pants, Finish up your hot chocolate so we can get going.” You sigh, rolling your eyes playfully before going over to where Chaemin is behind the counter to wash Hana’s dish.

“How was work?” Jihyo says as she backs up her car out of the parking spot in front of the school. Sana has always taken the bus or gotten a ride from her friend, she doesn’t drive, it’s always been like that. This year Sana is lucky as she’ll most likely be getting regular rides back home from not only her best friend but also the mother of one of her students (and one of the drivers of the century).

Sana sighs and smiles, then sets her head down against the headrest of the passenger seat, “It was really good, the students this year are great. Your daughter did great too.” Sana starts. Jihyo smiles and looks at her daughter from the internal rearview mirror,

“I’m glad Jiyeong was good,” Jihyo starts, “Jiyeong, sweetheart, how was school?”

“Ms. Minatozaki is nice, and I made a new friend.” The little girl in the backseat responds, “Her name is Hana, she’s cool and nice, I like her a lot. We promised to be best friends this year!”

Sana tenses up at the mention of Hana, and she thinks of the girl’s captivating mother. Sana starts to zone out whilst Jihyo talks with her daughter, and she thinks about the young-looking mother she had met. She replays the memory of shaking the woman’s hand and thinks about her cheery grin, as well as her caring nature. She daydreams of the look the woman had given her this morning, and the friendly greetings they exchanged had remained in her mind for a bit of the car ride back.

Her heart sinks a little at the thought of you being her student's mother, and she tells herself to compose herself, there are always others, right? (but none that were as cute as you.)

“Alright, we’re here. Jiyeong, say bye to your teacher.” Jihyo says, putting the car in park at the front of the apartment complex. Sana smiles at Jihyo and steps out of the car, closing the door and waving at Jihyo and her daughter through the window,

“Thank you Ms. Minatozaki! See you tomorrow!”

“Bye Jiyeong, I hope you have a good night. You too, Jihyo, thank you again.”

“It’s no problem, your place is on the way to our house anyway, have a good night Sha.”

Jihyo waves again before rolling the passenger seat window up again and driving away, Sana turns and walks into the building.

The young teacher unlocks the apartment door and sets her bag on the hook to the right of the door, takes off her shoes, and finds herself wandering over to the kitchen to make a cup of tea.

She leans against the counter in her work clothes, staring at the cup of tea in her hand.

“I really have to talk to Jihyo about this.” She mumbles, taking out her phone and clicking on the woman’s contact. She lets out a small sigh thinking about how the hell she’ll survive the year while having to see your pretty face so often, and having to interact with someone so charming.

The phone rings for a bit before it’s answered by the woman that had dropped Sana off at her home, and the woman sounds like she’s opening the door to her house.

"Sana? Hello? What is it? Everything okay?”

"Jihyo,"

"Yes?"

“On a scale of one 1-10, how bad is it to have a crush on your students' mother?”

#sana x reader #twice x reader #kpop x reader #sana imagines #twice sana

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aurumacadicus · 2 months

Text

I finished binging Miss Fisher again:

"So why did you fall out with Howard, anyway?" Steve asked, slouching down in his seat as the car inched up the driveway. He hadn't asked before, and as he'd watched Peggy's hands tighten on the steering wheel as they passed through the gates to the Stark mansion, it finally occurred to him to wonder why he wasn't still involved with SHIELD after being one of the founders of SSR.

Peggy worked her jaw delicately. "We had a disagreement about values," she finally said.

"I can't imagine why," Steve muttered, and relaxed a little when the corner of Peggy's mouth curled up.

"Well, he'll surely enjoy me coming to him for help," Peggy added with a sigh, pulling to a stop. She took a moment to take a deep, fortifying breath, then let it back out slowly, giving Steve a glance out of the side of her eye. "And that I'm bringing you."

"I can thank him for looking for me so long," Steve agreed, and turned to unfold himself out of the car as Peggy did the same. Even though she was in her sixties, she was still sprier than he was; cars had gotten smaller while he was in the ice, somehow.

The door opened before they could knock or ring the bell, and Peggy brightened a little, greeting, "Mr. Jarvis."

"Ms. Carter," Mr. Jarvis answered, voice clipped, and her smile faltered as quickly as it had arrived. He bowed slightly, motioning toward the sitting room on the left. "Mr. Stark will be down to see you presently."

Steve took it as the dismissal it was, wondering at Peggy's reaction. There was so much about her that he didn't know. So much about the world he didn't know. His years in the ocean had done him no favors. He stared at a painting of peaches and tried not to think about how much he'd lost. Then his ears caught the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and he turned, clasping his hands behind his back as he instinctively fell into parade rest.

The man coming down the stairs was not Howard, Steve realized, even though he looked a lot like him. Anthony, he remembered the file saying. Howard's son. Steve hadn't believed Howard would ever settle down, but here was proof, walking casually down the stairs as if they had all the time in the world. To their surprise, he used the post at the bottom of the stairs to swivel directly to face the sitting room they'd been directed toward, walking over like he was meant to be there.

"Tony," Peggy said, and she was unable to keep the surprise out of her voice.

"Aunt Peggy," Tony answered, voice measured. He crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow. "Or should I be calling you that?"

Peggy sucked in a sharp breath and closed her eyes, looking vaguely annoyed, then opened them again. "Tony, I'm here to see your father."

"I'm the only Mr. Stark here," Tony told her flatly, scowling. "You'd know that if you ever called. Mom said she wanted to take a trip around the world while they still had their health, and they left three months ago. You'd know that if you read the society papers." He waved his hand dismissively. "And just so you know? I'm not really inclined to help. You didn't make it to a single one of my dissertations even though I invited you. You stopped coming to my birthday parties. You didn't even come to my coming out party," he added, and that last part was where Steve finally heard perhaps the first real emotion Tony had shown since he appeared on the stairs--hurt.

Omega, Steve remembered suddenly, at the mention of a coming out party. Tony didn't carry himself like the typical omega, he thought, tilting his head a little. But then, high society always carried themselves a little differently, he remembered. Howard had never carried himself like any of the alphas Steve had grown up with. It stood to reason that Tony would be much the same.

"Tony," Peggy began gently. "I'm sorry that my falling out with Howard affected you, too. I should have tried harder to stay in touch. But you were a child when that happened."

"And I was just as much of a pain in the ass then," Tony scoffed, rolling his eyes. "If they made a fuss about me talking to you, I would have just screamed the house down. I was good at it," he added with a huff.

Steve figured with the way Peggy winced, he was telling the truth.

"Whatever. I don't want to hash this out. What does SHIELD need from my dad? I'll pass the message on when they call next week," Tony continued before she could say anything else. "Maybe. If I feel like it."

Peggy looked like she was considering pressing him, but whatever she saw in his face, it made her back down. "It's about your mother's gala, Tony."

At that, Tony's gaze sharpened, shoulders straightening as his posture changed from dismissive to alert. "I'm in charge of the the foundation while Mom's on vacation," he said, sharp-edged and stern. "What would Dad have to do with that?"

"Hydra is trying to reestablish a foothold in New York," Steve finally answered, taking a step forward. "They intend to slither in through charities, because they believe it's easier to launder money that way. We believe several members will be trying to infiltrate the Maria Stark Foundation, and the gala will be where they make their move."

Tony swiveled to him, eyes calculating. "And who the fuck is this?"

Peggy glanced at him sharply, silencing Steve from answering. "This is the lead agent on the case, Agent Roger Stevens."

Tony pursed his lips, and the look he gave Steve wasn't entirely disgust, but it wasn't... not entirely disgust, either. Steve found himself sweating a little, and he couldn't quite figure out why.

"I suppose if I tell you that I'll take care of it, you'll poke your nose in anyway. Omega can't handle it," Tony said, lifting his chin at him aggressively.

Oh, Steve thought, wondering if this was how Bucky felt when Steve had raised his chin at him and asked, 'You wanna fight, too?' Tony thought that Steve believed he was incapable. "I'm sure you can handle it," he answered carefully when Peggy simply raised an eyebrow at him. He cleared his throat when Tony rocked back on his heels, clearly skeptical. "I just wonder. How you're going to arrest anyone. You need... authority from a governing body to do that."

Tony stared at him, unimpressed. Steve let the moment hang there, waiting. Adding anything else would be too risky, too likely to offend him. Steve had, unfortunately, not gotten any better at interacting with omegas. The only tried and true way to stay on their good sides, he'd found, was to shut the fuck up.

"So citizen's arrest doesn't count?" Tony finally asked.

"You have to hand the person you arrested over to a judge or police officer. I can detain them at SHIELD," Steve answered, and he thought he sounded pretty reasonable.

Tony scoffed. "Why? What can you do that the police can't?"

"Waterboard them, obviously," Steve deadpanned, then winced when Peggy's elbow rammed into his kidney.

"We do not waterboard our prisoners. We are not the CIA," Peggy told Tony sternly.

Tony's mouth dropped open into a surprised little 'o.' Then he threw his head back and laughed, loud, and Steve saw Peggy's shoulders relax, just a little. Maybe this would work out, Steve thought, allowing himself a small smile.

#ideas #stony #omegaverse

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pristine-rose · 11 months

Text

✧ LILAC FUMES

⊹ characters : albedo, ningguang, kaveh, la signora

⊹ synopsis : bad habits ( in which only you can see )

⊹ warnings : all sfw :] , smoking ( ningguang )

⊹ female reader, not proofread, sry for writing albedo again

minors can interact, but do not follow. this is just more sfw to pass the time! will hopefully return to n.sfw soon

⊹ ALBEDO

self-doubt

He doesn’t really know what he’s doing.

Brush strokes race rapidly across the canvas, but somehow even quicker than normal. He used more colors than he usually does; He puts in more care than he usually does, too. He paints you so beautifully. Perhaps even a little too perfect, as well. But that’s the way he sees you—no flaws, but in a way that ms so perfectly human, that you’re practically perfectly imperfect. And Archons, he loves that about you.

Is he allowed to say that? Allowed to even think it? Loving you? This is why he paints you—because he can’t show these feelings any other way. And he hates this about himself. Why can’t he kiss you the way other couples do? Why can’t he hug you without being so tense? Why, why, why did he have to be created without a heart?

You deserved someone more human than him, he feared. Someone who would pour his heart out to you so emotionally correct, and not towards a painting like he is doing now.

“Albedo…” He felt his body jump in horrific surprise. “This is…”

Ah. He forgot to lock his studio door. He was so stupid—he could never think logically when it came to you. And now you were here, seeing something he didn’t want you to see. “Albedo,” you called again with your hand over your mouth, “you’re so kind…”

Kind? He could almost scoff You were calling him kind? He was a disgrace here, he could not even understand the basics of love in a way to show it to you physically or verbally; And here you were, staring at him like he was the most thoughtful of lovers. He didn’t know how to show love. In fact, he didn’t even know what he was doing.

And yet, when you ran up to hug him so tightly, he thought, perhaps you knew him better than he knew himself.

☁️ —

⊹ NINGGUANG

smoking

Smoke-lined silk screen, glass room, bed frame, light post.

A huff, clouds filtered between red lips.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough of that?”

When she looked up at you, her pearly whites were playing with the wooden tip between her lips, toying with it as if it were like secondary skin. She looked unbothered—genuinely confused, even—as to what exactly you were asking of her in the first place.

“Enough of what?”

You gave no verbal response as your eyes glanced down at her mouth for just a second. Oh. “My pipe?”

“Your smoking problem,” you told; only to, of course, garner a response along the lines of ‘I don’t have a problem’. You could only scoff, really, and the Tianqian wasn’t sure if she liked that. To be almost belittled and scolded like a child ( which, in truth, was not happening at all—she just conditioned herself to see such a false reality ) was not a setting that Ningguang took kindly to. And if you were any other subordinate telling her what to do, you’d be a dartboard by now.

She blew out slowly. Secondhand smoke hit the tip of your nose and your brow raised. “You’re being dramatic,” she rolled her eyes. “Come. Grow up, and give me a—”

“I will not be kissing you with your smoker’s breath.”

She almost cracked the wooden pipe with the clench of her hand from annoyance—but that would be giving into you, wouldn’t it? She almost didn’t like the winning smile that crossed your lips. What she didn’t like even more, however, was being put into place right in front of you.

☁️ —

⊹ KAVEH

overworking, worrying

“Love you so m— Oh, wait! Do you think you can make another coffee for—?”

His words died into mumbles when he saw the hesitant look you gave him. “Coffee?” you questioned, leaning at the doorframe in a way he didn’t like. A lean like that meant you’d be questioning him. He got nervous when you did that. “At this hour?”

His fingers fiddled with his pen. “I have this big project to hammer out tonight, I fear…”

You only sighed. So simple, yet he could not take his eyes off of you. They were widened with a stir of caffeine and sleep deprivation both simultaneously—the bags under his eyes only causing even more concern. But he stared at you out of habit, for a large part of it was fear and insecurity. His eyes were always, always widened, searching for any trace of disappointment in your gaze. He didn’t like it when you were concerned over him; Not because of annoyance, no.

But over worry you would leave him for his self-sabotaging habits.

“Sorry,” he muttered when you pushed yourself off the doorframe, beginning to make your way towards his desk. “This project is really important to me.”

“You said that all your projects are important to you,” you remarked. The way you tiredly slouched yourself over his back and rested your chin on his shoulder made him only feel worse. “And I can see that,” you continued, “they are your life’s work.”

Kaveh stayed quiet. He stared down at his work-in-progress blueprint, trying his best to look like he was working. And truly, he was working fine just a moment ago—But how could he continue that focus now, when you’re making him self-conscious? He didn’t deserve such concern. You should’ve just left him by now.

“You’re shaking.” He didn’t notice that until you placed your hand on top of his, which was gripping his pen so tightly. “You can continue your masterpiece when you have enough sleep, okay?” you muttered as you kissed his temple. He sighed, melting in his seat. Perhaps he could spare to continue in the morning.

☁️ —

⊹ LA SIGNORA

secret keeping, overthinking

“Hey. Hey, look at me.”

Her lips landed under your own once she felt the pull of your fingers on her chin. She was seated, feeling your presence loom over her like a sense of warm security that was so reachable in this palace of ice. And yet it left her breathless—she, who was never surprised by anything. She, who was so cautious and careful about who she adored.

“Was there something you needed?” she whispered, feeling small as her breath brushed your lips.

“You were heating up,” you said with such concern, “worryingly so.” Her head slightly tilted back with a widened eye, looking up when the back of your hand gently pressed against her forehead. She could almost smile—you cared so much, and it almost made her hopelessly romantic again. “Are you developing a fever, Signora?”

Her brows furrowed together. No, of course she wasn’t.

“Perhaps I am.”

But she couldn’t tell you that. She couldn’t tell you of the scorching, liquid fire that coarse through her veins. She could not explain the self sacrifice she committed centuries ago, or how she was prepared to die.

“Do you mind walking with me to my room?”

Because why would she tell you, when you would probably become scared of her? You—who was just like everybody else—thought she was perfect and ruthless. But also you, who she could not afford to see the disgusted face of.

For now, you only smiled; And she planned to keep it that way.

#genshin x reader #albedo x reader #ningguang x reader #kaveh x reader #la signora x reader #signora x reader #genshin impact x reader #ga #genshin women x reader #genshin men x reader

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 7 months

Note

Ahoy!Hoy! How are you today, Ms Raven? I hope you're well and all is well.

Out of curiosity, Which of the twst boys have their unique magic and what/ how do their unique magic work?

The UM names, chants, effects, and restrictions we know of so far are below the cut. Please note: JP uses the term “unique magic” and EN uses the term “signature spell”; I will be using the abbreviation “UM” throughout this post to refer to it. Note that some incantations are taken directly from the official localization; others come from fan translations that I happen to like or prefer over the official ones, which I will indicate with "***".

Please also know that we don’t know the same amount of information about each UM nor their effects or limitations. I’ve done my best to compile what information we do know for certain though. I’ll update this post as more information comes out!!

***Beware of spoilers, as this post has information from TWST JP!!***

Riddle

"Off With Your Head" collars a target and seals their magic away, preventing them from spellcasting.

The collar cannot be removed by any means unless Riddle himself chooses to do so.

“Are you ready for your sentence? The verdict comes afterwards. Any last words? Off With Your Head!” (TWST EN official localization)

First use of UM: prologue-3 of the main story

First instance of incantation: Episode of Heartslabyul manga chapter 1

Trey

In JP, Trey’s UM is called “Doodle Suit”. In EN, it’s called “Paint the Roses”, which likely derives from how the UM is written literally as “(Let’s) Paint the Roses”.

His UM allows Trey to temporarily override or “paint over” a targeted aspect of something or someone else, usually the senses. For example, he can rewrite taste as well as rewrite “other people’s magic” as “his magic”.

***"White to red, and red to white. Paint the Roses/Doodle Suit!”*** (by Mystery Shop TLs)

First use of UM: 1-14 of the main story

First instance of incantation: Twisted Wonderland Novelization Volume 1

Cater

Cater’s UM is “Split Card”, which allows him to create clones of himself. The clones can act independently, but the more clones Cater creates at once, the more strain is placed on him.

In the manga, the clones are shown to revert to playing cards when they’re no longer needed or damaged.

“I am he and we are they. Split Card!” (TWST Episode of Heartslabyul manga official localization)

"I’m him and he’s them! Split Card!!” (TWST EN official localization)

***"I am he, and he is me. Split Card!"*** (by the Turtle Soup Scans team)

First use of UM: prologue-3 of the main story

First instance of incantation: Episode of Heartslabyul manga chapter 7 and/or P.E. Uniform vignette

Ace

No information available yet other than we know he’s shocked that Deuce manifested his UM before he did.

Deuce

His UM first manifests in book 5; in JP, it goes by the name “Bet the Limit”, whereas in EN, it’s “Double Down”, both of which are betting terms.

Bet the Limit allows the caster, Deuce, to send back all the damage he has taken at double the power.

"It's payback time! Get a load of this! Bet the Limit/Double Down!" (TWST EN official localization)

***“I’ll make you pay for that! Grit your teeth and take it! Bet the Limit!”*** (by Mystery Shop TLs; some creative liberties taken)

When Azul uses Deuce's UM in Glorious Masquerade, the chant is: "... It's time to pay up! You're in for a world of hurt! Double Down!" (TWST EN official localization)

First use of UM: 5-45 of the main story

First instance of incantation: 5-64 of the main story

Leona

“King’s Roar” turns anything Leona commands into sand. It also seems to induce a dry environment. The UM is called “The King’s Roar” in EN.

According to in-game dialogue, anything Leona touches after casting King's Roar turns to sand. Due to the limitations of the visual novel style of the game, it's unclear whether or not Leona's spell requires physically touching something. If we reference other official materials (such as the animated trailer), it doesn't look to be a hard requirement. I'll be keeping up with the light novel and manga adaptations of book 2 to see how King's Roar is represented, then update as needed.

Leona's UM has the capability to kill (since it has an effect on even living beings); this terrible power is part of the reason why he was gossiped about and feared by the palace servants (seen in his post-OB flashback).

"I am the one who hungers. I am the one who thirsts. I am the one that robs you of your future. Kneel before me! King’s Roar!" (TWST EN official localization)

***“I am your hunger. I am your thirst. I am what steals the light of your tomorrows. Kneel before me! King’s Roar!”*** (by twstarchives!)

First use of UM: 2-25 of the main story

First instance of incantation: Leona Dorm Uniform vignettes (part 3)

Ruggie

“Laugh with Me” lets Ruggie control the movements of other people by forcing them to copy his own body.

The more people he's controlling, the more difficult it is for him. (It's possible to take magic-enhancing potions to increase the number of people he can control at once, seemingly without negative detriment.)

***"Both kings and hyenas are my friends! Laugh with Me!"*** (by MysteryShopTLs!)

First use of UM: 2-2 of the main story

First instance of incantation: Episode of Savanaclaw manga volume 2 (I think chapter 7)

Jack

"Unleash Beast" gives Jack the power to turn into a large, powerful wolf form without the help of a transformation potion or other outside means. In EN, it has become "Unleash the Beast" to comply with English grammatical rules.

In his wolf form, Jack has heightened strength, speed, etc.

Jack had to train himself to be able to stay in his wolf form for long periods of time.

First use of UM: 2-25 of the main story

First instance of incantation: TBD

Azul

"It's a Deal" grants Azul the ability to confiscate an agreed-upon ability or spell of his client; Azul is then able to use these abilities or spells for himself.

If the client is not able to fulfill their end of the contract or breaches its terms, the client is forced to comply with Azul's every command (via the anemone they'd sprout on their head).

The agreement is valid as long as the golden contract which seals the agreement is left intact; however, the contracts are fragile like real paper. For this reason, Azul electrifies them with magic in order to create the false impression that the contracts are indestructible.

Azul is also able to take abilities without consent or without a contract. This method causes much more rapid blot accumulation, as normally the contracts help limit this.

He indicates that he "worked on" his UM, whatever the heck that means. It implies he trained or practiced using it to get better st it or to better understand its limits.

"The song ceases, the sun sets. I extend my benevolent hand to you poor, unfortunate souls. Now, to business! It's a Deal!" (TWST EN official localization)

***"The song ends, the sun sets. Extend mercy upon these poor, unfortunate souls. Now, sign the contract! It’s a Deal!"*** (by Mystery Shop TLs; some creative liberties taken)

First use of UM: book 3 of the main story, but he's been using it long before NRC

First instance of incantation: 5-5 of Glorious Masquerade

Jade

“Shock the Heart” forces a target to speak only the truth. It requires the target to look into Jade’s left eye in order to work.

This UM can only be used once per person and fails if casted on someone who is very alert, cautious, or are already aware of its effect. This is why Jade intentionally keeps his UM secret.

Shock the Heart is not all-powerful or absolute; in cases of strong loyalty, a target may not divulge the truths Jade wants to hear. For example, Kalim, who was very easy to initially trick, trusts Jamil so deeply that he resists Jade’s demands to tell him who in Scarabia has a mind-controlling UM.

"Don’t be afraid. I want to help you. Shock the Heart." (TWST EN official localization)

First use of UM: 3-1 of the main story

First instance of incantation: 4-25 of the main story

Floyd

“Bind the Heart” allows Floyd to redirect magical attacks, thereby rendering him unaffected by them.

His UM is highly dependent on his mood; if Floyd isn’t feeling up to it, then the spell won’t work.

First use of UM: 3-18 of the main story

First instance of incantation: TBD

Kalim

“Oasis Maker” summons a large amount of (fresh, not salt) water in exchange for only a (relatively) small amount of magical power.

Any additional effects of the water (if any) are not specifically stated; other characters just remark that the water is tasty and at a nice temperature.

Kalim says he doesn’t think his UM is all that useful, especially since the development of waterways in his home country has made it much easier to access potable water.

"Respite in the scalding sands, a neverending party. Dance! Sing! Oasis Maker!" (TWST EN official localization)

First use of UM: 4-14 of the main story

First instance of incantation: 4-14 of the main story

Jamil

His UM is known as “Snake Whisper” in JP and “Snake Charmer” in English (which is likely taken from the way “Snake Whisper” is literally written as “Snake Charmer” in the original JP).

This spell lets Jamil hypnotize people and make them follow his commands. His targets must make eye contact for him in order for Snake Whisper to work.

The more a target resists Jamil’s UM, the more target will hurt until they finally succumb to the spell.

Long-term use and/or controlling multiple people at once can cause more rapid blot accumulation.

"The one you behold is your master. When I ask you a question, you will answer. When I give you a command, you will assent. Snake Whisper." (TWST EN official localization)

***"The one you see reflected in your eyes is your master. Answer when I ask. Bow when I command. Snake Whisper."*** (by Mystery Shop TLs)

First use of UM: book 4-6 of the main story, but Jamil has been mind-controlling Kalim before this instance

First instance of incantation: 4-30 of the main story

Vil

"Fairest One of All" lets Vil curse any item he touches and to set the conditions to break that curse. These conditions are immovable and, once set, not even Vil can lift the curse.

"I lose naught and fear naught. This shining crown was made for me. Fairest One of All." (Note: Vil denotes the conditions for the curse after the chant.) (TWST EN official localization)

First use of UM: 5-32 of the main story

First instance of incantation: 6-55 of the main story

Rook

In EN, Rook's UM is "Arrow Afar". The original name for JP is "I See You". This is a small, slight (and therefore hard to notice or gauge as dangerous) spell that is cast upon targets. He can then pinpoint their exact location, regardless of distance.

If the tagged item or person has entered a zone which blocks off magic, then Rook cannot track their location.

"Come, see if you can flee from me. I See You/Arrow Afar." (TWST EN official localization)

First use of UM: 6-25 of the main story (for tracking); the tagging is actually done earlier in the book

First instance of incantation: 6-25 of the main story

Epel

In JP, Epel's UM is "Sleep Kiss". In EN, it was changed to "Crimson Slumber". This lets Epel conjure enchanted glass coffins to contain people. Once inside, his targets fall into a deep sleep.

The coffins can be powerful barriers to protect others.

Epel manifests his UM in book 6; Rook helps guide him in using it.

"Your eyes will close, your breath will still. Sleep Kiss/Crimson Slumber." (TWST EN official localization)

First use of UM: 6-58 of the main story

First instance of incantation: 6-58 of the main story

Idia

"Gate to Underworld" allows Idia to open and close the gateway to the "Underworld"/Tartarus which is house in STYX HQ. It is written in EN as "Gate to the Underworld". The Underworld holds many dangerous Phantoms which the facility researches.

It is implied that Idia’s UM is hereditary to the Shroud family.

"Game, set, match. Gate to (the) Underworld." (TWST EN official localization)

First use of UM: 6-68 of the main story, though technically Idia may have used it in 6-54 to let OG!Ortho out of Tartarus (we don’t get to see it explicitly being used).

First instance of incantation: 6-68 of the main story

Ortho

No information available yet; Ortho has stated that he cannot use magic, so it’s unlikely that he can have a UM at all.

UPDATE: Ortho confirms in book 7 he does not have a UM and cannot develop one. However, what makes him "unique" is his robotic nature; he is able to transfer his consciousness to new vessels.

Malleus

“Fae of Maleficence” summons thorns which causes all living beings in its area of effect to fall into a deep slumber. (Ortho speculates that people, if left in this state, will have their bodies deteriorate.) In EN, the name was changed to “Fae Maleficence”.

Malleus's UM also creates thorns which allow him absolute control of whatever is contained inside of the space the thorns preoccupy. This includes stopping time within the area. Previously, Malleus was also seen stopping time in the event Endless Halloween Night. However, it's not known whether this occurred because of his UM or not.

It is possible for Malleus to manipulate the sleepers’ dreams and to glimpse into them.

The dreams can run by themselves, pulling reference information from each individual dreamer's memories and desires. If the dreamer tries to wake up, the dream will do everything in its power to keep the dreamer asleep.

It may be difficult for Malleus to enter one’s dream if the dream takes place in a period where he does not exist (such as not yet being born out of his egg) or if he does not understand certain concepts (like technology). This is because magic requires imagination, and it is hard for Malleus to imagine particular scenarios.

"Spinning wheel of fate, spin the threads of calamity. I, the Lord of Malevolence, offer this blessing. Fae Maleficence." (TWST EN official localization)

***“Spin the thread of disaster on the spinning wheel of Fate. For I, the Ruler of the Abyss, shall bestow it (a blessing) upon you. Fae of Maleficence.”*** (by Mystery Shop TLs; creative liberties taken)

First use of UM: 7-37 of the main story

First instance of incantation: 7-37 of the main story

Lilia

"Far Cry Cradle" allows Lilia to view the memories associated with an object by touching it.

***"As if it were a day. Everywhere I go, it will be in a blink of an eye. Far Cry Cradle."*** (by Yaoyaobae)

First use of UM: 7-81 of the main story

First instance of incantation: 7-81 of the main story

Silver

Bear with me, Silver's UM has like a million and one parts to it...

"Meet in a Dream" essentially allows Silver to hop between peoples’ dream worlds. It can only be used when he himself is asleep and when he is aware he is dreaming.

“Dreamways” are transitional places between dreams. These dreamways look like a softly colored sky with birds flying through them.

Silver cannot control whose dream he goes to, although he has noted that it tends to be people whom he has a strong bond with, such as Lilia or Sebek. It's not clear how he is able to walk in Mickey's dream, as Silver doesn't seem to be familiar with him.

The dreamer is indicated by a shining white bird that flies around them. Silver must stay close to the dreamer or else he will risk falling deeper into sleep.

He can only leave the dream when the dreamer wakes up (thus dissolving the dream world) or if he uses his UM to hop into another dream.

The dreamer can be woken by a large shock, whether physical or emotional.

"Those I've met and will someday... Meet in a Dream." (TWST EN official localization)

***"To the one I’ve met before, to the one I’ve yet to meet. Meet in a Dream."*** (by Mystery Shop TLs)

First use of UM: 7-43 of the main story

First instance of incantation: 7-43 of the main story

Sebek

"Living Bolt" turns Sebek’s entire body into lightning. He can use that magic to attack and to travel very quickly.

However, the spell will damage his body with use.

Sebek reports developing this UM when Silver enrolled at NRC and when Sebek was training by himself. He wanted to be able to rush to Malleus’s side at a moment’s notice

Sebek says this is the first time he's using his UM and that he hasn't fully mastered it yet. He had not intended to use it until he has mastered it.

***"Thrust through the clouds, o' lightning! Living Bolt!"*** (by curekibouka!)

First use of UM: 7-84 of the main story

First instance of incantation: 7-84 of the main story

Che’nya

Che’nya’s UM allows him to turn himself (whether in whole or in parts) invisible.

We don’t yet know the name of the UM or the incantation for it.

Che’nya appears to mainly utilize his UM to sneak onto NRC campus and to steal food.

First use of UM: 1-18 of the main story

First instance of incantation: TBD

Rollo

“Dark Fire” envelops Rollo’s entire body in fire. He can manipulate this fire as he likes, and the flames grow more powerful the more negative feelings there are present.

"Crimson lotus flames, burn my body and guide me. Darkfire!" (TWST EN official localization)

***“O, crimson lotus flower… Scorch my soul and guide me. Dark Fire!”*** (by Mystery Shop TLs)

First use of UM: 5-5 of Glorious Masquerade

First instance of incantation: 5-5 of Glorious Masquerade

Fellow

“Life is Fun” makes a target more optimistic and happy. They are then more susceptible to being manipulated by Fellow.

This UM is notable as the only one so far with an incantation spoken in English instead of in Japanese.

The spell has no effect on people who are already very optimistic like Kalim. It also doesn’t work if Fellow tries convincing the target to do something they would never considering doing “from the bottom of their heart”.

The spell doesn’t work on heavily guarded people or people that recently underwent a traumatic event.

Life is Fun doesn’t cost a lot of magic, so it is difficult to detect. It can be used multiple times, the effect “stacking” without risk of Overblot.

***”Come on to the theatre! Life is Fun!”*** (by curekibouka!)

First use of UM: 5-6 of Stage in Playful Land, but technically we’ve been seeing him cast it as early as chapter 1 of the event

First instance of incantation: 5-6 of Stage in Playful Land

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weemssapphic · 9 months

Note

Hi lovely! Got so excited when I saw your requests was open again, your writing is so addicting 😍

I’ve had this idea since I saw a post with a gif of Larissa holding a teaching pen and I can’t stop thinking about it.

What if Larissa was actually teaching anatomy one day at the school you being the assistant teacher for that specific class and at the same time you being secretly in a relationship with her. So as she teaches the class you become more and more turned on, while she talks about the body not being able to control yourself. Ending up having to take Larissa to her private rooms, saying “teach me anatomy” and Larissa be like “didn’t you pay any attention to me earlier” while getting you to “learn anatomy” on her body. Larissa receiving/reader giving, real smutty and hot! Kinks are more than welcome too, hope it makes sense! x if you won’t, it’s totally okay ❤️

Hello ❤️ thank you so much for the compliment and for the request - I'm so sorry that it took me so long to write this (I wasn't very happy with my first draft and I'm super against posting something I hate). But I hope you enjoy it 🫶🏼

Teach Me

Larissa Weems x f!reader

Words: ~3.3k

Content/warnings: nsfw (smut) - choking, authority kink, praise kink, hair pulling, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, strap-on use

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Good morning, class! I’ll be taking over this week’s lessons until Ms. Hanson is back from her sick leave. Today we’ll be going over last week’s exam, and then if we have time we’ll start chapter 8. Any questions?” Met with a brief silence, Larissa continued. “Excellent. Let’s start, shall we?”

Larissa nodded over at you, a small sign for you as the assistant teacher to make your way down the rows of desks and hand the students back their graded tests. Some of them groaned, some squealed in delight - once you’d finished your task, you made your way back to the front of the room, making eye contact with Larissa as you did so. You found her watching you with a faint smirk and a quirked eyebrow.

God, she was so hot when she did that. The smirk painted on those luscious red lips started a small flame in your abdomen - the blue eyes that bore into your own held just a smidge of teasing amusement as you visibly shivered. Larissa knew just what she was doing to you, she always did - her eyes briefly flicked down your body, drinking in your form, and you felt yourself flush.

The two of you had been in a relationship for several months now, choosing to keep it a secret from your students and most of your coworkers for the sake of professionalism. It was normally an easy secret to keep as, apart from staff meetings, your professional interactions were limited to none - especially in front of the students. Today, however, Larissa was taking over the class you normally assisted for, which was equally delightful and a little nerve-wracking.

Larissa was a force to be reckoned with. You’d seen her address the entire school plenty of times as principal, but there was something about seeing her take control of a classroom that was unbelievably arousing. She spoke with such passion, making sure to involve the students and encourage them - somehow, she managed to create a collaborative environment where even the shyest of students felt comfortable enough to speak up.

You couldn’t help but think that, if you’d had a teacher like her when you were younger, maybe you’d have learned a thing or two in anatomy class - perhaps even enjoyed the subject.

Or maybe not, you reasoned, as your eyes fell to Larissa’s backside, perfectly displayed in her form-fitting dress, when she leaned over her desk to rifle through a stack of papers. Maybe you wouldn’t have been able to focus on a single damned word.

And as anticipated, as the lesson progressed, you found it harder and harder to concentrate. You tried, you really did - keeping your eyes mostly on the students or on your notes, rather than on Larissa, trying to soak up every word that was being said in case your assistance was needed. This proved more difficult than you thought it would, as even Larissa’s voice, authoritative yet soft, served to get you worked up. But you were almost successful - until Larissa found that she had just enough time left in the lesson to start chapter 8 and reached into the drawer of her desk to pull out a pointer.

You watched, mesmerized, as she extended it and walked up to the blackboard. If anyone were to ask you what was drawn up there, you wouldn’t have been able to say, even though you’d prepared the lesson yourself due to Ms. Hanson’s absence - your mind went blank as your eyes were glued to Larissa’s hands. Long, red-tipped fingers gripped the pointer firmly, flexing around the little stick. Her other hand waved around animatedly as she spoke.

You squeezed your thighs together, growing more uncomfortable by the second as the dampness between your legs grew. You’d always loved how she spoke with her hands - right now, you couldn’t help but ponder what else she could be doing with them. How those long fingers could reach deep inside of you, curling against your-

The shrill sound of the bell ripped you from your trance, signaling the end of the lesson. Students began to rise, gathering at the door to shuffle out of the classroom and to the cafeteria for lunch. You swallowed hard, your eyes finding Larissa at her desk as she packed away her laptop and some papers.

You were on your feet the second the last student had closed the door behind themselves, taking long strides towards Larissa’s desk. She raised her head and smiled at you.

“Darling, I-”

Your lips met hers in a desperate, sloppy kiss, a needy moan clawing its way out of your throat. Larissa let out a chuckle as you deepened the kiss, her hands coming up to cup your cheeks as she pulled back.

“What was that for?” she asked playfully, humor dancing in her eyes. “Not that I’m complaining…” Her lips curled up into a smirk.

“That was for how hot you look teaching.” Your breaths came out in ragged puffs as you captured her lips once again. This time, Larissa let out a soft moan, fisting the front of your shirt and pulling you closer.

“We have a few hours until the next class… Everyone else is at lunch,” you mumbled against her lips.

“And what would you like to do with all that free time?” Larissa’s voice was low and raspy - it only served to turn you on further.

“You could teach me anatomy?”

“Were you not paying attention earlier?” Larissa teased.

“Nope,” you murmured. “I think I need a private tutor.”

“And you’re certain I’m not too distracting?” she purred.

“Rissa…” It came out whinier than you intended, but that didn’t appear to matter much: Larissa grinned against your lips, pressing one final kiss to them before allowing you to drag her through empty corridors all the way to her private quarters.

Larissa had you pinned against the door the second it closed behind you. Her hips pushed into yours as she clicked the lock, and then her hands were on either side of your head, trapping you against the oak as her lips found your neck. She sucked at your pulse point, her teeth grazing over the sensitive skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“Tell me, darling,” she purred, her voice dropping an octave, her warm breath washing over your ear. “What do you remember from today’s lesson?”

Your breathing stuttered in your chest - if it had been hard to think before, well, now it was simply impossible. All you could focus on was how Larissa loomed over you, her body pressed against yours, her lips on your ear. The heat at the apex of your thighs was becoming unbearable.

“I-I don’t know… just- your hands,” you stuttered out sheepishly - that really was all you remembered, Larissa’s fingers flexing as she spoke, how they-

“Funny,” she whispered into your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. You felt your knees begin to give out - if Larissa hadn’t been pressing you to the door, you might’ve collapsed on the spot. “I don’t remember that being a topic in today’s lesson. Perhaps it’s better we start with the basics then, hmm?”

Before you could come up with a suitable reply, you felt Larissa’s hand close around your throat, her fingers applying gentle but firm pressure, flexing against your sensitive skin. You met her gaze to see blown pupils gazing hungrily down at you, painted lips pulled into a seductive smirk.

“Think you can be a good girl for me?” Larissa’s eyes were hooded as she looked down at you, applying just a little more pressure to the sides of your neck. You nodded fervently, not trusting yourself to speak, and Larissa grinned.

She let go of your throat, ignoring your whimper of disappointment, and turned to stroll nonchalantly towards the bedroom. “Give me 2 minutes, then you can come,” she called airily as she disappeared into the hallway.

They felt like the longest two minutes of your life. When they were over, you headed after her, your spine tingling with excitement. You walked into the room to find her sitting on the edge of the bed in her bra and panties, legs parted - her heels had been kicked off, her dress discarded.

“Larissa…”

“Now, is that how you think you should address a teacher?” Larissa raised an eyebrow, lips turned into a disapproving frown.

“Uh… Principal Weems?” Your face felt hot with embarrassment, but then Larissa grinned and let out a pleased hum and you found yourself growing hot for an entirely different reason.

She spread her legs and your eyes fell to the damp spot at the center of her panties. You felt your mouth go dry and you took a few steps forward, until you were standing between her legs. She made no move to touch you - she simply watched you with an amused grin plastered on her face.

“Why don’t you show me what you know, darling? My body is at your disposal…”

You didn’t need to be told twice - you lunged forward, planting a sloppy kiss to Larissa’s lips as your hands began to trail down her body, finding the clasp of her bra and quickly undoing it. You slid the straps down her arms and dropped the garment onto the floor, focusing your attention on her now exposed chest. Your lips trailed down her skin until they found one of her breasts, and you began to litter the soft mound of flesh in little kisses and bites.

“Take my nipple into your mouth and suck,” Larissa instructed, her voice slightly breathy but still firm and commanding. You did as you were told, sucking on the small, rosy bud and feeling it harden under your tongue. “You may bite - gently.” You grazed your teeth over her nipple before biting down, feeling Larissa arch into you and hearing her sharp intake of breath.

“Good girl, now the other one.” The heat between your legs grew as Larissa commanded you, and you mirrored your actions on her other breast.

You left a trail of kisses down Larissa’s stomach - the soft swell of which was so tantalizing that, with a cautious glance up at the blonde, you sunk your teeth into her flesh, biting down gently. A strangled gasp escaped Larissa’s throat and she looked down at you in amusement.

“Getting a bit bolder now, are we?” she teased, clearly enjoying the way your cheeks went pink. “I’m not stopping you, darling.” With her permission, you spent a few more minutes loving on her stomach and hips, biting and sucking, then soothing the little marks you left with a gentle lick of your tongue.

Soon, Larissa began to squirm beneath you, giving your head a gentle push. You settled between her plush thighs then, taking a moment to give them the same reverent treatment as Larissa let out quiet sounds of pleasure.

You pressed a soft kiss to Larissa’s cunt through her underwear, before pulling the garment down her legs to reveal her dripping sex.

The scent of Larissa’s arousal hung heavy in the air, she was already so wet for you - you licked your way up her slit, taking a second to worship her folds before finally circling your tongue around her swollen clit.

“Fuck, Riss, you taste amazing,” you groaned. You felt Larissa’s hand on the back of your head, then a sharp tug at your hair. Larissa looked down at you with a raised eyebrow.

“I-I’m sorry, Principal Weems,” you breathed out.

“Good girl,” Larissa purred. The hand holding your hair loosened its grip and you resumed your ministrations against her clit, flicking your tongue over it in little kitten licks.

Larissa arched her back off the bed and rolled her hips against your face. Ironically, considering the lesson, you knew her body well by now - you knew she wanted you inside of her. Happy to comply, you began to tease her entrance with your fingertip, earning yourself a breathy whine from the blonde.

“Enough teasing,” she murmured, and you slipped one digit into her hole, slowly pumping it in and out, before adding a second. Her walls stretched around your fingers and she let out a soft hum.

“Such a good student,” she teased, her voice breathy. “Quick learner.” You could almost hear the smirk in her voice, and it only served to turn you on further - you were certain your underwear was ruined.

Your fingers found a steady rhythm inside of her, curling into the soft, spongy spot that had her writhing beneath you. Using your other hand to hold Larissa’s thigh and steady yourself, you wrapped your lips around her clit and sucked, letting out a wanton groan as you felt her begin to tremble.

Larissa came undone beneath you, letting out a drawn-out moan as her hips bucked erratically against your face. You continued to fuck her through her orgasm, until she stilled beneath you and allowed herself to sink into the mattress.

You crawled up Larissa’s body, settling on top of her and pressing a bruising kiss to her lips which she immediately deepend with a low groan as she licked her arousal off your tongue.

“Principal Weems?” you mumbled against her lips. She hummed in response. “You said I could do anything, right?”

Larissa grabbed a fistful of your hair and gave it a sharp yank, the pain sending a shiver all the way down to your toes. Her painted lips were pulled into a devilish smirk and her eyes sparkled with curiosity.

“And what exactly are you proposing, darling?”

You bit your lower lip, blushing as you reached for the drawer of Larissa’s beside table - her smirk widened and she rested her head back against the pillow, watching you intently.

You pulled out the harness and dildo that rested in the drawer, your blush deepening as Larissa hummed her approval. She never took your eyes off you as you tugged the harness over your hips, tightening the straps and securing the fake cock in place.

Larissa squirmed impatiently on the bed, already spreading her legs for you. You could see how wet she was and your own clit ached at the sight. Larissa reached out for your hips and you caught her wrists, pushing forward and pinning her arms over her head.

Larissa’s pupils widened at the action, a gasp escaping her lips, her hips squirming.

You reached back into the drawer with the hand that wasn’t holding Larissa’s arms in place and pulled out a burgundy silk tie, dangling it in front of her face. She grinned up at you, giving you her best, innocent doe eyes.

“Go ahead, darling, I’m waiting,” she teased. You tied Larissa’s wrists to the headboard, making sure it was tight enough to hold her but loose enough so it wouldn’t hurt.

“That okay?”

After giving her wrists an experimental tug, Larissa nodded in confirmation. You pressed a searing kiss to her lips, before trailing kisses down her body, caressing her bare hips with your hands. You stopped at her inner thighs, taking a few moments to worship them with kitten licks and litter them in little bruises until you felt Larissa squirm desperately beneath you. The low whine that she let out was so delicious that you groaned into her pussy, and she bucked her hips up impatiently.

You placed a hand on either one of her thighs, spreading her legs open for you. She bent them at the knee and titled her hips up eagerly.

“So pretty,” you groaned as you zeroed in on her dripping cunt, taking the fake cock in your hand and teasing her hole before sliding easily inside of her. Larissa’s lips parted to let out a gasp and she squeezed her eyes shut as she got used to the sensation of being stretched out.

When she opened her eyes again, she gave you a nod and gently bucked her hips. You began to thrust the cock in and out of her, finding a slow and steady pace at which to fuck her.

Leaning over her, you continued your rhythmic thrusting as you wrapped your mouth around her nipple, flicking your tongue over it as your other hand began to fondle the soft swell of her breast.

Each flick of your tongue and thrust of your hips drew an even filthier moan from Larissa’s lips as she rolled her hips against you. Looking up at her through your lashes as you sucked on her breast, you could see her wiggling her arms against the restraints. She gazed hungrily down at you, eyes heavy-lidded, lips parted sensually.

“Kiss me,” Larissa demanded, and though you didn’t think she was in a position to be making demands, you couldn’t resist - you wanted to kiss her so bad, so you did. Your mouth left her nipple in favor of pressing a bruising kiss to her mouth, which she immediately deepened with a breathy sigh.

Your tongues danced around each other, Larissa’s breathing hot and heavy. You swallowed her soft moans and low grunts as you reached deeper and deeper inside of her, tilting your hips in the way you knew would bring her the most pleasure.

Her thighs began to tremble against your hips and she arched her back off the bed, her front pressing insistently into you - her skin was warm and slick with sweat.

One orgasm turned into two, turned into three, until Larissa wrapped her legs around your hips to pull you flush against her.

“I-I c-can’t…” she murmured breathlessly. “P-please…”

“Shh, it’s okay.” You caressed her cheek lovingly before pushing yourself up and carefully sliding the dildo out of her. Before removing the harness and tossing it to the ground, you undid the tie around Larissa’s wrists, placing a gentle kiss to each wrist before allowing her to drop her hands to her sides.

You crawled up the bed next to Larissa and snuggled against her, your own breathing almost as labored as hers.

“Was that okay, love?” you asked, pressing a kiss to her flushed cheek. You could feel her nod against you, a small smile playing upon her lips.

“Mmmh, thank you, darling,” she murmured.

You reached over her to check your phone - you still had an hour before your next class.

“Close your eyes and rest,” you whispered. “I’ll be right back.” Larissa hummed in response and you went to fetch a warm, damp washcloth and a glass of water, which Larissa drank as you cleaned up traces of her arousal from between her legs. Then you snuggled up next to her and allowed yourself to fall into a light sleep, her arm slung loosely around your waist.

The sound of your phone’s alarm 40 minutes later had you groaning and burrowing your head deeper into the crook of Larissa’s neck.

“Do we have to teach today? Can’t we just cancel the classes and stay here?” You gave Larissa your best puppy-dog eyes and biggest pout, but you knew as soon as she chuckled and kissed your forehead that your pleading wouldn’t work.

“After how much work you put in to prepare everything?” Larissa teased, and you rolled your eyes and huffed. “Tell you what.” Her voice dropped an octave and she moved her mouth to your ear - you had to clench your thighs together in response. “If you’re a good girl this afternoon, then I’ll show you what I know tonight.” You had to bite your lip to keep from moaning as Larissa’s breath washed over the shell of your ear, raising goosebumps on your neck. With that motivation, you allowed yourself to be ushered out of bed and dressed yourself for your afternoon classes - only now, the ache between your thighs was even worse than it had been that morning. How you were going to survive the rest of your classes and be a good girl, you had no idea.

Taglist: @alexusonfire @brienneswife @rosieathena @pro-weems-places @bigolgay @kimiinou @imprincipalweemspet @h-doodles @bychrissi @katie-bennet @giogwensversion @gela123 @friskyfisher @justcallmelittleone @michi2504 @scream-queenlover @a-queen-and-her-throne @sequoirius @anne-lister @winterfireblond @imgayforwoman69 @Ssappling2004 @yourlocaldisneyvillain @fictionalized-lesbian @i-like-reading @willowshadenox @m-0-mmy-l-0-ver33 @mysaviorfalsegod @thesamesweetie @theonefairygodmother @lvinhs @rainbow-hedgehog @sweetderacine @lilfartbox1 @daydream-cement @catechristiesstuff @im-a-carnivorous-plant @milfomaniac

Join my taglist!

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #larissa weems smut #larissa x reader #principal weems #principal weems x reader

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jackgoodfellow · 1 year

Text

[image description under the cut]

Image Description:

An iteration on a popular meme format, edited to include figures from Roman history. The original version of the meme is a crudely drawn MS paint illustration of a sad looking dude standing in the corner of a party looking on as people dance and have a good time. The meme always includes the text "they don't know" over the man's head, showing his thoughts. And then when someone edits the meme, they add onto that phrase. In this iteration, the heads of the illustrated people have been replaced with cropped photos of heads from ancient Roman sculptures of famous people.

The man in the corner is now Augustus (Octavian) Caesar and he is labeled "Octavian about to absolutely wreck everyone's shit." The text above his head reads "They don't know I'm the scariest bitch in the Mediterranean." His eyes are glowing red.

At his feet lays the dead body of Julius Caesar, cropped from a painting and covered in crudely-added digital blood. A label pointing to the body reads, "Julius Caesar (super assassinated)".

The crowd of people that Octavian is looking at is labeled, "Lepidus Antony, Cassius, Brutus, Decimus, and half of Rome fighting for control," with arrows pointing to the respective images of those men. A separate label points to the man in the middle of the group and says "Cicero attempting to preserve the Republic".

Next to Octavian is small red text with hashtags that read "hashtag gonna go full Michael Corelone on these motherfuckers" and "hashtag Your Asses Delenda Est." (This is a play on "Karthago Delenda Est", which means "Carthage Must Be Destroyed" in Latin and was a very memorable political slogan in Roman history leading up to the utter destruction of the city of Carthage. This phrase was so memorable, in fact, that the English speech-to-text program I use recognized the phrase and spelled it correctly on my first attempt! Which is very unusual for a Latin phrase that has absolutely no modern-day uses!)

#original #meme #memes #roman history #augustus caesar #Julius Caesar #cicero #marc antony #brutus #gaius julius caesar #image description #historia civilis #overly sarcastic productions #shitposting #history shitposting #historical shitposting #history memes #ancient rome #roman empire #roman republic #it's Augustus time so I can use both of those tags back to back. because spoiler alert bye-bye Republic and HELLO EMPEROR AUGUSTUS #this kid was a goddamn teenager when Caesar died and I don't think anyone expected him to become king of the world #he killed antony. he killed cleopatra. he killed the republic. he killed a horrifying amount of civilians. he fought EVERYONE and he WON #ruthless. brilliant. terrifying. truly more cruel than he had to be and Extremely Good at propaganda.#i am both fascinated by him and relieved he is dead.#[Caesar voice] Ya know that's a real nice Republic ya got there. Sure would be a shame if somethin' were to uhh....... HAPPEN TO IT.#wait jack - i hear you say - is that a julius caesar or an augustus caesar voice? and to that i say.... yes.#i mean the republic probably would've died eventually anyway but MAN OH MAN DID THE CAESARS DELIVER SOME KILLSHOTS #IMAGINE U R WAR HERO POLITICIAN GENERAL MARC ANTONY AND THIS 17 YEAR OLD SHOWS UP AND THEN YOU PLUS EVERYONE YOU KNOW LOSE TO HIM SO SO BAD #he truly is sitting in the corner quietly waiting to tear open your jugular with his... well tbh he'd probably get agrippa to do it.

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quack-quack-snacks · 4 months

Text

Star Crossed - Chapter 3

The Star Crossed Masterlist

My All Of Us Are Dead Masterlist

My Navigation and Masterlist

Warnings: Na-yeon, normal AOUAD things Word Count: 5,889

Let’s meet again.

Once Ms. Park had finished her speech over the speakerphones, Su-hyeok and you looked at each other and nodded, knowing what you had to do.

Su-hyeok slowly started to crawl toward the window, sliding across the floor to go under the protection of a different piece of furniture every so often and you followed when you could. You got about halfway across the room before a clay sculpture almost fell over. Su-hyeok was able to catch it in time but with it fell a single pencil and you cursed your luck at a time like this.

The two of you jumped up and ran toward the window as fast as you could. As Su-hyeok worked on unlatching and opening the window, you grabbed a few metal paint scrapers and used them to stab into the necks and skulls of the zombies rapidly approaching you. Just as you killed the 3 who were in the room, more came in through the open door after they heard the commotion and you turned around to get yourself out of the room before any of them could get to you. You slammed the window shut behind you and almost fell off as a few of the zombies started slamming themselves into the glass, fortunately only giving it a single crack. Luckily, Su-hyeok was able to grab you before you could fall off and secured you tightly between the wall and his chest.

Unable to look him in the eyes during the intense situation, you spoke and broke the tension, “I think we should try and head towards the science room, then maybe the others can let us in and we can reunite with everyone.”

He nodded before a small smirk appeared on his pretty face. “So… how are you liking everyone? You seemed to surprise them all when you ran straight towards the danger and nearly sacrificeed yourself for them.”

You slapped his arm lightly. “At least I’m not doing it as much as you are Mr. Hero Complex. You need to put yourself first sometimes, okay? It’s because you didn’t go up the stairs when I told you to that you’re here with me right now!” You rolled your eyes as you scolded him but he just looked at you with a soft gleam in his eyes and a small smile.

“Okay,” he whispered.

“Okay?” You repeated back, a bit confused on what he meant by that.

“Okay. I’ll put myself first sometimes,” he started before turning away from you and whispering, “Just for you.”

“What’d you say?”

He turned back to look at you and faked being confused and oblivious. “I didn’t say anything else.”

You only shrugged your shoulders and thought yourself to just be hearing the sounds of the zombies lurking in the classes you passed by as the two of you slowly inched yourself down the wall toward the room where Su-hyeok’s friends were supposed to be.

Getting closer, Su-hyeok tried to cross a gap in between two windows but it was too far and he almost slipped. You gasped as he did and used your closest hand to grab a hold of his blazer to pull him back.

“You idiot, don’t do stupid things!” You scolded and slapped his arm.

Suddenly, just as he was about to laugh and make a stupid comeback about how you were even clumsier than he was, the two of you saw Cheong-san get thrown out of the science classroom with a zombie on top of him before just barely catching himself onto a makeshift rope. Unfortunately, the zombie kept a hold onto his foot and he tried to kick it off.

“Cheong-san!” Su-hyeok sounded out in relief before noticing the zombie attached to his ankle like a ball and chain. “Look down! Down, down, down!”

“I think he knows, Su,” you rolled your eyes slightly and leaned your head back against the cool glass of the window behind you.

“I do know!” Cheong-san confirms.

“She’s got your foot, moron. Look!” Su-hyeok whisper yelled and leaned forward before you yanked him back again by the fabric of his blazer.

“I see that,” Cheong-san said again as he focused his energy on keeping his hands tightly gripping the rope he was holding.

“Kick her off or something, idiot!”

“I’m trying!” You stifled your laugh at their little banter at a time like this and lightly smacked Su-hyeok’s shoulder. He looked back at you for a second, smiling at your amused facial expression before looking back at the man hanging out the window. Cheong-san tried to climb further up the ladder but slid down a few inches with the added weight of the zombie.

“Hey. I’m coming down,” Su-hyeok suddenly said and you snapped your head toward him as he looks at the windows again with a determined face.

“No. Stay there,” Cheong-san demanded as he knew it was too high of a risk.

“Yeah, stay here. It’s too risky and you can barely reach,” you tell him before he starts to cross the windows again.

“No. I said, don’t do it!” Cheong-san yells at him.

“Oh, shit!” the boy groans out as his feet slip and you, once again, yank him back by the fabric of his blazer so he can regain his footing. As he finally gets settled, he leans his head back on the window like you did a minute ago and takes a deep breath.

“Hey, Bare-su, look up!” Only seconds after he says that, Su-hyeok tries to grab your hand and jump but messes up on part 1. He jumps and grabs ahold of the rope and climbs down so he can kick the zombie holding onto Cheong-san off. As the people in the broadcasting room hear the commotion, they all notice Su-hyeok there as well and cheer in excitement.

Su-hyeok is finally able to push off the zombie from Cheong-san but all he gets is a complaint from the boy. “Hey. Stop hugging me.”

Just as he was about to let out a cheeky response, a small and barely audible whimper interrupts his words. Looking over, he sees you hanging from the copper pipe that runs up the side of the building. Your feet were slipping and one hand was bloody while holding onto a ledge of the wall while the other one struggled for purchase on the pipe.

“(Y/n)!” He exclaimed before grabbing onto the rope and letting go of Cheong-san’s waist.

“Go down. Now!” He yelled at his friend who went without asking the questions he wanted to.

“(Y/n),” he spoke calmly, securing one of his hands around one of the holes of the rope so his other was free. “(Y/n), look at me.”

You tried, you really did, but the moment you looked away from your hands even for a seconds was terrifying and you felt yourself slipping. “No!” you whimpered out.

“I know you’re scared, but I need you to do something for me, okay?”

You gave him a slight nod without looking at him.

“I need you to jump to me.”

Your head snapped in his direction and you looked at him in pure shock at his suggestion before looking back when you felt yourself slipping again.

“(Y/n)!” He yelled and you looked back at him, your hands holding on even tighter so you could stay upright without looking at them. Su-hyeok gave an encouraging nod toward you. “Jump.”

You did it.

You jumped.

It was a scary moment when you landed in his arms and he struggled to get a grip on you but when you felt yourself using the stability of the rope you sighed in relief. Leaning your forehead against Su-hyeok’s chest while his open hand was wrapped tightly around your waist, you took a deep breath to calm down before he gently pushed your head away.

“You go down first,” he whispered but you slapped his arm lightly.

“What did I say about being more selfish?” He just smiled and pushed your shoulder down so you were forced to climb down. You groaned in annoyance but willingly climbed down.

Most of the group was hesitant to help you but Nam-ra rushed forward to grab your hand and help you climb in through the window. You gave her a smile of appreciation before you turned around to help Su-hyeok in.

“Close it before they get in!” Na-yeon screamed as you all were focused on helping Su-hyeok in. Cheong-san shot her a dirty look before rushing to grab Su-hyeok’s arm.

Just before you could rush forward to help him, On-jo had rushed to grab his hand and help him in.

You were a little surprised but decided to ignore it when she looked over at you. You just gave her a small smile but she looked away quickly.

Your smile dropped immediately.

“Would you just close it already!” Na-yeon screamed again.

“What's wrong with you? Su-hyeon was still out there! You want us to just shut him out?” Gyeong-su screamed at her.

“Is it a crime to want the window closed?” She excuses herself.

“No, but it’s a crime to be this fucking selfish,” you spoke under your breath. The people near you could hear you and snickered at your words but Na-yeon just looked at you, confused.

“What did you say? If you wanna say something, say it to my face, bitch!” She screamed at you but you just leaned back against the window with a smirk while you glared at her.

“How can you be so selfish?” Gyeong-su accused her and her attention went back to him.

She sighed before speaking again, “I can’t stand you, stupid welfie.”

You stood up from your half-seated position against the window and walked toward the two. Gyeong-su pushed Na-yeon into the chair behind her and both Cheong-san and you rushed to push him away from her.

“What did you just call me?” He pointed his finger toward her while you had a hand on his chest, pushing him back.

Na-yeon gasped and then stood back up before getting in his face. “You just hit me?”

“Yeah,” He admitted back with no shame or regret on his face or tone. “Call me that again.”

Ms. Park came running over after locking the window right as you pushed both Na-yeon and Gyeong-su into the chairs placed behind them. They both landed with an “oof” and glared at you. You sent them a cold gaze and they looked away.

“Hey, knock it off. What's going on over here, guys?” Ms. Park questioned while gently grabbing your arm and pulling you away.

“He just hit me and then she pushed me!”

“I only hit you because you called me a welfie!” Gyeong-san defended himself while you remained quiet despite how Ms. Park looked at you for answers.

“Is it not true?” She questioned and stood up, Gyeong-su soon followed, not wanting to be towered over by her.

“You can’t just say shit like that,” Cheong-san told her with a disappointed tone and his hand wrapped around the arm of Gyoeng-su.

“What’s a welfie?” Ms. Park ignorantly asked and looked around the room at everyone for an answer. Everyone stayed silent, not wanting to say the meaning of the rude word. “Tell me. What is it? What’s a welfie?”

“A person on welfare,” Su-hyeok quietly said from behind her.

“What?” She asked as she turned to face him. You went over to stand between Gyeong-su and Na-yeon, not trusting the two to not get in a fight. The both of them backed away from you when you did, backing away from each other in the process. Your lips formed a tight smile while you debated whether or not to celebrate at your win of getting them apart of to feel sad and alone because you are the reason they backed away from each other.

“It means a person on welfare. ‘Welfie’ for short,” Su-hyeok explained and Ms. Park took a moment to think about the word and how her students were using it.

“Na-yeon, that was wrong. Don’t ever say that again,” she scolded the girl who rolled her eyes when the teacher turned to Gyeong-su. “And Gyeong-su, when you hit people, you’re the one who ends up losing. Do you understand?”

“No. I don’t,” he said and crossed his arms.

“Look, you two want to fight? That’s fine. As soon as we survive this thing and get the fuck out of here, you two can fight as much as you want,” you told them as you sat on the table behind you. You shot them both a sharp glare. “But right fucking now, we have to focus on staying safe and figuring out what to do next. So shut the fuck up unless you have something useful to contribute.”

“Yes. Exactly as (Y/n) said,” she turned to you, “Although the use of foul language was not necessary,” you shrugged and she sighed before continuing to look back and forth between the two students beside you. “We don’t know what’s going on out there with those-”

“Are the zombies?” Su-hyeok cut her off and she just looked at him with a lost expression, not knowing what to tell him.

“What about the other teachers? Has anyone called the cops?” Ji-min stepped forward with desperation lacing her voice.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure someone already has,” she reassured her panicked students but her voice sounded unsure. “I just don’t have my phone on me right now.”

“We called them, but they’re not coming,” Cheong-san told her. “Neither the police nor first responders.”

“I’m sure they’ll be here soon. We just have to wait a little longer,” Ms. Park stayed optimistic as she saw the hope fading from her students’ eyes.

“Ms. Park,” On-jo spoke and got everyone’s attention. “Hyeon-ju’s hands were cold too. So were I-saks,” her voice shook slightly as she spoke of her friend. You’d realized a while ago that you were missing a member of the group and knew she was dead but you knew nobody had time for grieving right now. You all had to focus on staying alive. “What if all of this started with Hyeon-ju?” She questioned and your eyes widened at the news.

“She went to the hospital,” Hyo-ryung said with a gasp.

“What if it spread there as well?” Joon-yeong predicted with a bitter tone.

“It’s most likely it did. If this happened in just a short amount of time at a school then there’s no doubt the rest of the city is most likely the same,” you said as you looked at the ground with an emotionless face. Su-hyeok came over to sit next to you and let your fingers graze each other from your spot on the table.

“But wait, the internet still works right?” Joon-yeong questioned as he saw the computer in front of him and stood up excitedly.

After getting the computer to turn on as it took a minute from the school refusing to replace the old computers with newer faster ones, Joon-yeong logged into Facebook and started looking at the videos the people of Hyosan had posted.

It was terrifying. There were videos of people getting brutally torn apart and ripped into as they were eaten by cannibalistic monsters who now roamed the streets.

“Holy shit…” you whispered from your spot sitting on the table beside the monitor before a clanking on the window distracted your despairing thoughts. Slowly getting up, you walked over to the window with careful steps as it continued to hit against the glass.

“Let’s check messages first,” you heard from behind you before the window in front of you shattered from a strong hit by the makeshift ladder.

You gasped and jumped back but a few glass shards had flown towards you and cut lightly into your skin.

Everyone else gasped as well and Nam-ra who was closest to you ran up to you to check on you. The metal part of the rope continued to slam against the window, creating a larger hole in the glass.

“What was that?” Joo-yeong questioned, a little out of breath from the scare.

“Get over here. Come here!” Ms. Park yelled at you and Nam-ra to do, so you scurried over to where she was on the other side of the room.

“Did someone not make it in?” Wu-jin asked and got a reply of “no.”

Cheong-san slowly stepped toward the glass, ignoring Gyeong-su’s words of not getting too close.

“Do you see anything?” Gyeong-su asked as Cheong-san stood right in front of the broken window. After not getting an answer, he came to his own conclusion. “It’s just the wind.”

Wu-jin sighed, “That scared me.”

Suddenly, a zombie fell from above the rope and landed in Cheong-san’s face before he jumped back, landing on the ground.

“Look, it's coming in! Watch out, watch out!” Dae-su screamed as he just layed there on the ground and stared at the zombie. “Cheong-san, get back. Get back here!”

Cheong-san looked lost so you took the initiative. Running past him, you grabbed the mop that was hidden in the corner of the room behind some sort of cabinet and immediately started pushing the zombie back out of the window. The zombie grabbed ahold of the other end of the mop while you tried to shake it off.

Dae-su had dragged Cheong-san away from the scene behind you and he was standing up now, safe.

Surprising you, Gyeong-su ran forward and also grabbed ahold of the stick, helping you push the zombie back.

It grabbed ahold of the window and started pulling itself forward as the people behind you yelled about removing it.

“If you want to remove it, come and do it yourself, you bastards!” You yelled through gritted teeth as you focused on pushing this monster away from the people behind you.

Gyeong-su tried grabbing its hand and pulling it off before the beast grabbed ahold of his arm and started pulling it towards its mouth. In a panic, you used one of your legs to push Gyeong-su back and the beast was forced to let go of his hand, thankfully not biting him.

Although when the beast let go, both you and Gyeong-su were pushed back and you lost the mop.

Cheong-san picked the mop up and stabbed at the zombie. Unfortunately, it only ended in more glass breaking and the mop splitting in half. He started preparing himself to stab the zombie, knowing the - now broken and split - end of the mop was a perfect weapon to do so. It was clear for you to see, however, that he couldn’t do it.

Before you could stand up to help, Su-hyeok grabbed the mop from the boy and yanked it back, hitting Gyeong-su’s nose in the process before stabbing it into the cannibalistic-turned-student.

The zombie wouldn’t let up even when Su-hyeok stabbed it through its chest and Gyeong-su ran forward with the computer box from the table in his hands before throwing it at the zombie, successfully managing to make it fall down to the grass field below.

After a few beats of silence, you walked over to the table where a tissue box was placed and grabbed it before holding it out to Gyeong-su whose nose had started to bleed lightly from the impact of the mop. He looked at you confused and just as you were about to speak, Cheong-san beat you to it.

“Gyeong-su, you’re bleeding.”

“I am?” The boy brought his hand up to his nose in confusion before a look of realization crossed his features. “Right, it’s because Su-hyeok hit me with a fucking mop.” He then grabbed a few tissues out of the box you were still extending out to him and gave you a small smile.

“Stay back! Stay where you are!” Na-yeon exclaimed as she breathed shakily and you just rolled your eyes, something that Gyeong-su noticed and he gave a quiet laugh before focusing on the girl. “You were bitten, weren’t you, Gyeong-su?”

“I wasn’t. I wasn’t!” He defended himself.

“It’s true, he wasn’t,” you told everyone as well.

“Yes! (Y/n) was right next to me when it happened! Didn't you see Su-hyeok hit me?” You smiled slightly and looked down as he used your name to defend himself, it was the first time someone had used your name in a good light in a long time and it felt good.

Na-yeon took a couple steps backward and let out a shaky breath. Gyeong-su brought the tissue down from his nose and started walking towards Na-yeon.

“What’s your fucking problem with me?” He asked angrily.

“You were bitten!”

“No, he wasn’t! I saw him the entire time, he never got bit once!” you yelled at her and slammed the tissue box onto the table.

Na-yeon ignored you and turned to Ms. Park. “I-sak got a nosebleed just before she turned,” she turned to On-jo and you swear you could feel your blood boiling within your veins. “On-jo. You saw it, right? That’s the same thing that happened to I-sak!”

“You fucking selfish little bitch,” you cursed her in a low tone.

“Gyeong-su,” Ms. Park tried but was cut off as the boy tried to desperately clear his name.

“I-I am telling you! I swear I wasn’t bit!” He sighed as everyone stayed silent and you lifted the box of tissues again as his nose started dripping more. He sighed again and grabbed one, nodding towards you before bringing it up to his nose. “Shit.”

“Look!” Na-yeon wouldn’t give up and continued to find any reason to convince the others he was truly turning into a zombie. “Your hand. Explain that? What is it?”

“I got it from the computer! Didn’t you see that?” He tried to walk towards her again but stopped when the people near her all gasped and jumped back, scared of what he might become. He scoffed. “Don’t you trust me?” They stayed silent while avoiding his eyes. “I can’t believe this. I got this trying to save all of you.” He walked away from them to lean against the table where you were sitting atop it. Cheong-san walked around the table from where he was standing on the other side of it and walked up to Gyeong-su, grabbing his hand to look at the injury.

“It’s not a bite, it’s a scratch. Whoever wants to check, come look,” he said and most of the group came up to check besides a few of the girls and Ms. Park. A few of them let out comments as they find it to be true. It was only a scratch.

“Yeah, definitely. Just a scratch,” Su-hyeok confirmed while looking at Na-yeon with a look you knew to be judgmental and a bit disappointed.

“Ms. Park, look,” Cheong-san insisted and she walked up to him, grabbing his hand gently to look at it.

“Well, it really doesn’t look like a bite. Thank god. It’s a scratch,” she reconfirmed what everyone had been saying and you let out a little sigh of relief you didn’t know you were holding in and surprised yourself. “He’s okay.”

All the chaos and noise had been giving you a headache so you took your chance to exit the situation considering it seemed fine for the moment. You gave Gyeong-su’s shoulder a light squeeze and he returned the gesture with a small smile. Standing up, you walked into the recording room, glancing at Su-hyeok who was watching you go in.

Just before the door closed behind you, you could hear the start of another fight between the group members begin and you just thanked god that you had left when you did. Any more fighting and you were sure you’d have an aneurysm.

After a while of you spinning around in one of the spinny chairs of the recording room, you heard the door open.

“Oi.”

You stopped spinning and turned to see Gyeong-su standing at the doorway.

“They’re quarantining me for an hour since Na-yeon still thinks I’m a zombie, you should leave,” he explained but you just shrugged and continued spinning in the chair.

“I’m okay. I know you’re not one.”

You heard a scoff and stopped your spinning, slowly looking up and fearing he would be upset by your decision.

Instead, you saw a wide grin gracing his face. Letting your own smile take over, you reached over to pat the seat of the other chair that was positioned beside you. He walked over and the two of you started talking. It was nice, comfortable even. The more you talked, the more you were willing to open yourself up to gaining a friend.

A knock on the window of the door brought both of your attention to Cheong-san who stood on the other side. He started to do what you assume was whistling on the other side of the glass and you smiled when you heard Gyeong-su immediately start to sing the tune Cheong-san was aiming for. Your attention was brought away from the two and their funny exchange to Su-hyeok who had been leaning against the table on the other side of the glass of the big window. He gave you a smile when your eyes met and you gave him one back. He pointed back and forth between you and Gyeong-su with that same smile but a more questioning look on his face.

Your smile turned a bit giddy and you had to bite your cheek to keep it under control before you mouthed one word to him.

“Friend.”

Su-hyeok’s face lit up with a huge grin and he almost ran into the room to give you a giant hug. You’d finally made another friend and he couldn’t be happier.

Well he could, if it was under better circumstances.

But, at least if the world was ending, you would have made a friend through it.

You turned your head back to the two best friends just to see Gyeong-su waving Cheong-san away with his hand and a slightly annoyed expression on his face.

You gently nudge his ribs with your elbow. “What did he say?”

He shoved your arm away from him with a smile before replying, “He was telling me we’ve been in here for 30 minutes and I told him to fuck off.”

You laughed and nodded before deciding to resume your spinning when the door opened up again.

Ms. Park entered the room and walked up to the two of you. She placed her hand on Gyeong-su’s shoulder. “Why don’t you come out now Gyeong-su? We all know that you aren’t turning and you don’t need to stay here any longer.”

He turned around to look out the big window behind him when she spoke and saw everyone crowding around while looking at you and him. He just shook his head, “I’m staying the full hour. Just to be safe.”

Ms. Park stood back up from her crouching position and then turned to you. “How about you, (Y/n)? You don’t need to be in here anyways so you’re welcome to come out if you would like,” she recommended with a hopeful smile.

You shook your head lightly with a smile before speaking. “I’m okay, Ma’am,” you turned to Gyeong-su before you continued. “If you’ll still allow me, I’d be happy to just stay in here for the remaining 30 minutes.”

He looked a little shocked but his expression turned to one of gratitude and he nodded. You looked back at Ms. Park and noticed her smiling at the two of you.

“Okay, come out whenever the two of you are ready, then.”

The both of you nodded before she walked out. The two of you smiled at each other before going back to your own things - you spinning in the chair and him messing with the string and holed notebook he had.

Surprising you, Na-yeon walked in with one hand shoved in her pockets. The both of you looked back at her before turning to each other and rolling your eyes.

“Hey,” the both of you stayed silent. “I’m talking to you!” More silence. “You’re ignoring me?”

Gyeong-su scoffed before turning back to her. “What do you want?”

“Why didn’t you answer me?”

He scoffed. “Apologize and get out,” she said as he shooed her away.

“How’s your cut doing?” She asked and you abruptly stopped in your spinning to look at her. Something about her tone was disturbing.

“Why do you care?” Gyeong-su asked suspiciously.

“Show me,” she demanded and aggressively grabbed his arm to bring it closer so she could see. You looked over to the window to see everyone looking at the interaction with teasing smiles or rolling their eyes.

“I suspected you because the situation called for it,” she spoke and it brought your attention away from the window and back to the interaction itself. Now, she had a handkerchief in her hand and was dabbing it on the place where Gyeong-su’s cut was. You couldn't shake the feeling of something strange happening. Especially with the way she was acting - like she had something to hide. “And I was really mad earlier. I’m still mad at you.”

“I guess…” Gyeong-su started but didn’t really know how to continue the sentence so his words trailed off. She dropped his hand back in his lap right before walking towards you and grabbing your own arm, attempting to roll up your sleeves to where the wounds you had were but you slapped her hand away harshly and shot her a cold glare. She pretended not to be affected by it but you could see the fear that flashed in her eyes.

“Don’t touch me,” you told her and Gyeong-su looked over at you in surprise at how your voice went from so sweet and kind just a minute ago to now this.

Na-yeon cleared her throat before turning back to Gyeong-su and speaking again. “You know I’ve always looked down on you.”

The boy shook his head with a sigh. “It’s fine. It’s all in the past. Let’s just go,” he finished as he looked towards the door, suggesting that they all leave the room.

“I’m not apologizing,” she told him and although she didn’t physically do it you could hear the eyeroll in her voice. “You deserve to be looked down on. Our complex banned you welfies, but you forced your way in,” she spoke and your nails dug into the foam arm rest of the chair. “And how dare you push me?”

Gyeong-su looked over at you with an exasperated and astounded expression on his face before turning back around and standing up to be face-to-face with her. “Listen, you fuckin-“ he tried but she rudely cut him off with another insult.

“You thought I’d apologize?” Her head tilted slightly in a condescending way. “Everyone is taking your side. I was cornered because of a nobody like you,” she leaned in as she spoke her final words. “Stay the full hour. I hope you never come out again,” as she was walking away, you could faintly hear her whispering the words “Fucking welfie,” and that was the final line for you. Just as she had pushed the door open and walked through, cheering and clapping happening by your classmates, you marched towards her and pushed her forward before you felt hands grab you to prevent you from doing anything else.

“You fucking bitch! You think you can just fucking say that and get away with it?” You yelled at her but it was barely audible over the sounds of everyone around you screaming at you and questioning why you would do that.

Gyeong-su, who was behind you and the first one to hold you back, started to pull you away to the corner next to the windows along with a chair for you to sit in as you breathed heavily and stared at Na-yeon from across the room.

“What happened? (Y/n), why would you do that?” Ms. Park questioned as she crouched down in front of where you were sitting.

Without taking your eyes off of the bitch across the room, you responded. “That dog told Gyeong-su he deserved to be looked down on and then proceeded to call him a fucking welfie,” you spat out and nearly jumped out of your seat to rush back over to her and finish what she started when Su-hyeok, who had followed after you and Gyeong-su when he dragged you to the corner along with Cheong-san, grabbed your shoulder and firmly, but gently, sat you back down.

Ms. Park stood up and shook her head in astonishment before walking over to Na-yeon. You could hear Cheong-san checking on Gyeong-su but was focused on the conversation coming from across the room.

“Did you really say that?” Ms. Park asked as the rest of the group stood behind her in an odd way of intimidation. “You promised me you would apologize to him!”

“I did nothing wrong,” she insistently defended herself and despite Su-heyok’s hand on your shoulder you shot up out of your chair.

“Bullshit!” you screamed before Gyeong-su, Cheong-san, and Su-hyeok all rushed forward to sit you back down. You would have laughed at how comical it must have looked if you weren’t so pissed.

“(Y/n), calm down,” Ms. Park instructed and you reluctantly turned your head away from their conversation to focus on the one in front of you.

“Dude, forget about her,” Dae-su insisted and pat Gyeong-su’s shoulder as he groaned and angrily looked out the window.

“I just don’t understand why I have to take this shit!” He exclaimed and turned back to you all. Everyone’s attention got directed at Na-yeon as she started saying something about how it was Gyeong-su’s fault they had to leave their homeroom in the first place and how Coach Kang turned in there but you blocked it out as you started talking to him.

“So how are you actually feeling? What she said was bullshit, you don’t deserve to be looked down on. That’s just a shit excuse for her to be a bitch,” you told him with an eye roll and he laughed slightly before shooting you an adorable smile that you almost wanted to reach your hands out and pinch his cheeks at.

“Thank you, (Y/n). That means a lot,” he looked down at the ground and smiled when suddenly, with everyone else's attention still focused on Na-yeon, you saw Gyeong-su’s nose dripping with blood for the second time.

“Uh-h… G-Gyeong-su…” You whispered.

“Look! I guess I was right after all,” you heard Na-yeon boast proudly on the other end of the room but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn around and scold her when you saw your friend bleeding again. You noticed everyone had turned back to look at where he sat at her words.

“What?” The boy questioned, confused on why everyone was looking at him with the same expression: confusion, sadness, and fear.

Everyone except for one. Her.

“Gyeong-su…” You heard Cheong-san say from behind you but it was like you were hearing it from underwater. The only thing you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat.

And the thoughts that Gyeong-su might not have one soon.

~~~

~~~

Taglist!

@multifandom-lover01

Lmk if you want to be added or removed!

#all of us are dead #aouad #cheong-san #dae-su #gyeong-su #nam-ra #on-jo #su hyeok x y/n #su hyeok #lee su hyeok #su hyeok x reader #su-hyeok x reader

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starzioo · 2 months

Text

𝐃.𝐌 ❦ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐢𝐭.

So this is my first time writing Draco M. I like this one! Hope you like this fluff one shot as much as I do! <3

No warnings!

======

~DRACO POV~

-In the great hall.

'I can't believe that oaf Snape gave me detention, and for what I was just sitting there and my wand just so happened to cast a spell at Potter.' I was nearly drowned in my thoughts when I heard the door open. I turned around to see some girl with a weirdly bright smile on her face. 'I mean she is like 30 minutes late for detention. I don't know why she's happy' "Good after noon Professor Snape." She said bowing her head at Snape. 'Damn she's bold' "Ms. L/n, may I remind you, you are to be punctual for detention." Snape said in monotone. "Yeah yeah." She sat one table away from me and took a quill out and started writing what I'm guessing is something along the lines of what Snape is making me write. She was wearing Slytherin robes, 'I wonder why I've never noticed her before.' "Mr. Malfoy I didn't assign you detention so you could stare at Y/n" Said Snape as he shoved my head back down towards my paper.

~3RD PERSON~

You looked at Draco for a moment then smirked. 'Ah now see I would worry about him buttt I have better plans for detention.' You raised your hand. "M'yes." Snape said "Can I go use the restroom I forgot to before I got here." You said frantically, trying to convince Snape to let you go. "Seeing you were 30 minutes late I would've guessed you would've already went.....but I suppose so." "Thank you!!" You said already running to the overly large doors.

As you finally get out of the great hall doors, you start sprinting towards Snapes classroom. When you get there you were almost winded, but that didn't stop you from checking every drawer in his desk for your spray paint. "Shit, shit , shit" you cursed as your frantically looked through cupboards of confiscated items taken away from students. "What are you doing in here?" A cold and deep voice asks you. You turned around so quick Draco probably thought you were a tweaker. "Uh, nothing actually just got lost. You know what I'm guessing this isn't the bathroom, so if you don't mind imma just slide right past you." You said trying to get past Draco who was standing in the door way. His broad shoulders practically blocking every exit. As you tried squeezing past him he said "No, I don't think so." "Sir I would be appreciative if you just let me go." "Ma'am I would be appreciative if you told me what you were doing in Snapes classroom." "Like I said I got lost on my way to the bathroom." You said shrugging. "You've been going here for 5 years I think you would know where the girls bathroom is?" "I have short term memory loss" you say shrugging. "Sure, yeah. Tell me what you were doing in here and I'll leave you alone." "Oh okay then, I was looking for the spray paint cans Snape confiscated from me. He took them when I wasn't even using them."

"Well, I'm guessing by the big message on the boys bathroom ceiling saying "I see you" is good enough reason." He leans on the door way. "Okay well I told you why I was here so you can leave" "I'm not gonna leave." "Why?" "Cause you're more than likely gonna graffiti Snapes classroom and just cause problems for not only me but yourself." "Aweee you care about me, and if I get in trouble." "No I don't actually, Snape sent me to look for you. So if you get in trouble, I get in trouble." "Hey, why don't you just help me find the cans and we can go back to detention?" “nd’ why would I do that” He tilts his head slightly as he crosses his arms, he continues “All you’re gonna do is continue to graffiti the school” “Draco, the longer you stay here trying to reason with me the longer you have snaps waiting for our return, regardless i’m getting them back. With or without your help.” You shrug. He just stares for a second obviously thinking about your statement. He takes a breath before speaking. “If you tell one soul about this…” A sly smile appears on your face. “Thank youu~” You said running back over to the cabinets as Draco started looking in the drawers of Snapes desk. "I think I got it." Draco said after a couple minutes of looking. He pulled out a couple different cans. "Yes! Thank youu!" You said running over to Draco and taking the cans. "Can we go back now?" He said annoyed. "Yes, yes we can." You said putting the cans in the big hidden pockets you had in your robes.

As you two were walking back to the great hall Draco asked "Why don't I know you?" "Uhh I mean I don't know. I guess I'm usually either in detention or I'm skipping classes." You said slightly laughing. "What about your grades?" "Straight O's." You said unfazed. "How? If you're always not in class then how do you have straight O's? Not even I have straight O's." "I guess stuff just comes naturally to me. I finish all my missing work late at night. It doesn't really bother me." You said shrugging. "What's the point in getting into so much trouble? You could easily be a star student if you just didn't do all this stuff that could get you suspended." "I guess it's just for the thrill? I dunno I just do stuff that makes me happy, I guess." "You're confusing." Draco said rubbing his head. You two walked in a comfortable silence all the way back to the great hall. "I found her professor." Draco said. "What was taking so long? Where was she?" Snape said with a questioning look. You looked at Draco with a look that said 'please don't tell him I was stealing from his classroom.' He hesitated. "She was just fixing her hair in the bathroom." "Ms. L/n I would appreciate it if you didn't use your detention time to start a salon. You may both go back to your work."

~AFTER DETENTION~

There were very few kids in detention but you and Draco were the only Slytherins there. On your way back to the common room you realized Draco was walking a few steps behind you. "Why are you following me?" You said turning around on your heels. "Get off your high horse, we are both going to the same place. Geez." "Ohhhh, I forgot, although I could've sworn you were a Hufflepuff?" You said sarcastically. "You are so funny I almost forgot to laugh." Draco said with a straight face. "You know Malfoy you aren't that bad...Truth or Dare?" you say spontaneously. "I'm not going to be playing such a childish game. Especially with you." He said rolling his eyes. "C'mon just one little game." "No." "Yes." "No." "Yes." "No. "Yes." "Okay! Dear Merlin, you're annoying." He says scoffing. "I don't really care. Truth or dare?" "Truth." "Ughh you're boring. Just pick dare." "Okay fine, dare." "Oo, yes! Okay, I dare you to take one of my spray cans and write something, it can be anywhere and anything. BUT it has to be multiple words!" You said passing him a can of black spray paint. "No! That's gonna get me in detention, just like you." "Uh sir...you're acting like you weren't in there either. And plus we won't get caught." "But what if?" "It's gonna be fine, just trust me." You said realizing Draco's hand was still on top of yours from when you guys paused when you handed him the can. You quickly took away your hand and acted like nothing happened. "Well either way I have the can. So if we get caught it looks like I did it." "Ouuu I have an ideaa~" You said completely ignoring what Draco just said. "What?" "How about we write something to the Gryffindors?" "Sounds tempting," Draco said actually taking into consideration what you were saying. "I have the perfect place for it too!" You said excitedly. "Okay I'll do it, but only if you promise to take the fall if we get caught." "I promise." You said sticking out your pinky. "I don't do pinky promises." He says blankly looking from your extended pinky back to you. "Fine then, then there's no absolute way to know I'll take the fall," You said shrugging. He lets out air, "Fine." He says sticking out his pinky, you took his pinky with yours and kissed your hand. "What was that?" "You have to seal every pinky promise with a kiss, duh." "Oh my god." He said as he kissed his hand. "Okay, now there's this rock that all the Gryffindors literally cherish. I have zero clue why, it's just a rock, but they always hang around it so I'm guessing it's special or something. It's actually kinda weird, hey do you think they have a rock fetish or something?" You said gasping at the end. "Just show me where it is." He said rolling his eyes. "Okay fine then. Follow me." You said rolling your eyes. After walking for a while you two finally get to the 'special' rock. "Here we are!" You say spreading your arms out. "Are you serious? This is the rock?" "Yep!" "Okay.." He said sighing. He takes the can out of his pocket and crouches down so he can write straightly on the rock. He stares at the rock for a while. "Well?" "Hold on! I'm thinking." "Well, you better think faster cause I'm cold out here!" "I know what I'm gonna write." "What?" "Suck it." "You won't, no balls." "Shut up." He then shook the can up then sprayed it on the rock. "Oh, you actually did it." you said in disbelief. "Yeah, what about it?" "I mean I wasn't gonna force you to do it but I guess what's done is done." You said shrugging. "So what you're saying is I could've just said no and I would be going to sleep right now instead of fooling around with you?" "Yup, pretty much." "Oh my merlin." Draco said rolling his eyes as he stands. "Let's go before we get caught!" You said running back to where you two came from.

Once you get back into the corridors you begin to walk Draco is next to you walking in comfortable silence, "You know, having someone like you around isn't too bad." Draco says glancing at you. "What do you mean someone like me-" You get cut off by Draco pulling you back to the corner covering your mouth. He whispers into your ear, "Filch is around the corner shh." You nod and try to take his hand off your mouth, you finally realize he is pressed up behind you in the corner. Draco peaks around the corner and finally uncovers your mouth. "Okay, what's the plan?" Draco asks. "My plan was to follow your plan!" You say whisper yelling. You both continue to whisper argue with each other until you hear a meow behind you. When you turn around you see Ms. Norris, Filchs cat. "Go, go, go, go, go!" You whisper to Draco as both of you start running down the halls, turning random corners. You both take a few more turns and finally get to the common room. You flopped down on the couch exhausted from all the running you two did. "I can't believe we didn't get caught." You said looking at Draco, who was sitting on the chair on the right to you. "Me neither, I don't even know why I did it. I don't even know why I followed you." He laughed a little. "I guess I'm just special." You said shrugging. "Yeah, pretty special" he scoffed rolling his eyes. You two stayed up and talked until a prefect came and told you two that you should be in bed. "Night loser!" You said as you turned up the stairs to go to your dorm. "Shut up." You two became close friends, who would've known someone you never knew in the first place would become one of your favorite people.

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I saw this pic on Pinterest and immediately thought of Draco lol. This one is probs as corny as the rest of my one shots but tbh I like it a lot!

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