Tumgik
#how did they fit so much gender into one little guy
mxttellion · 3 days
Note
🏳️‍🌈 for any character you want (this is for the ask game)
Tumblr media
killing two birds with one stone or whatever they say and I'm answering both of these with a doodle lmao
sexuality and disability headcanon for the only two fuckers in my head right now
Tumblr media
here you go lol also more ramblings down below because I did say I wanted to yap
- Paul is unlabeled to me, he never bothered to find a label that fits his sexuality. Considering he never had a lot of relationships he never bothered to do a bit of introspection in that regard.
Patryck is a whole different beast- he's SOOO closeted. "wish I was straight" type of deal. "I wish I could kiss guys but I'm not gay" type. He's a mess. Considering he was also more "active" compared to Paul before the army, it would mean he had the time to experiment. But he never did. He had thoughts about guys but always assumed it was more of a "gender envy" or whatever thing rather than genuine attraction
- I did talk about Paul's eye once- but never too much in depth, neither did i for Patryck's chronic pains now that I think about it. Like I previously said in a past post, Paul got his eye scarred during the asdfland incident. He consequently lost sight of said eye, considering it was heavily damaged. Not enough to remove it completely, as it is still there, however it is paralyzed and can't move it. He can still close his eyelid though. I imagine he had to wear an eye patch for the first few months maybe- and then decided to just. Uncover it
Patryck has always had chronic pains since he was little- in fact that was part of the reason he was so sheltered and . Generally just bad at any sort of physical activity (not that it mattered anyway, he Does prioritize more intellectual hobbies / interests than anything physical). I'm gonna be real with you chat this is HEAVY self projection HOWEVER I think most of his pain is located on joints and muscles, which means he has to. Stop and take a break from heavy physical activity every now and then. How is he in the army, again......
49 notes · View notes
mochike · 9 months
Text
GOD link is so GENDER what a Creature
29 notes · View notes
foxgirltail · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I love you being trans I love you trans women i love you gender exploration I love you self discovery
[link to the Reddit post]
[ID: two screenshots of a reddit post on r/offmychest by user awaythrowjessie, titled "My girlfriend made me realize I'd be happier as a woman". it reads as follows:
I am 33, born male, and have had major self image issues my entire life. I hated seeing myself in mirrors, pictures, you name it. I honestly thought it was kinda normal so I just accepted it.
Now about 3 weeks ago I was at my girlfriends house, we have been dating a little over a year now, and have plans to move in together soon. Now recently she has shaved her head to support of her friends with cancer (side note thenl treatments for that friend are going very well). She had since bought some wigs to wear while her hair grows back out. We were joking around as I have male pattern baldness, and when she went to the bathroom I jokingly threw a wig on and waited. She came our, saw me we laughed for a bit and she said "you know I think you'd make a pretty girl" we laughed some more but those words triggered something in me.
Cut to a few night's ago she asked why I've been acting weird lately and I just told her how i was feeling. She said "alright let's do this " and when I asked what she told me she was going to give me a bit of a makeover and put me in one of her dresses and if i liked it then good. I was nervous and asked what if I did like it would she still be attracted to me. She just responded with "Baby you know I'm bi, guy or girl you're still mine." Her words reassured me honestly i love her so much.
Anyways she finished the make up, fitted a wig on me perfectly and got me in a dress and even helped me put a bra on and stuff in a little so i could see what breasts would kinda look like on me. Now I expected to see myself in the mirror, laugh this off and move on right, but I didn't. She did an unbelievable job, like I looked like I had been born a woman, and when I saw myself in the mirror for the first time in my entire life, I liked what I saw. I probably stared at myself for a good 10 minutes before she finally asked me something. She asked what I wanted to be called. After a few seconds I said Jessie, I always like the name Jessie. She whispered in my ear "well Jessie, you look beautiful." And that was it, I knew this was who i wanted to be.
I'm nervous now though, my friends will accept it but my family are, well let's just say not very progressive. But this is what I want.
end ID]
104K notes · View notes
aethelwyneleigh27 · 3 months
Text
Baby fever Scenarios and Headcanons with Husband!Simon "Ghost" Riley (Ghostie)
Tumblr media
Thank my baby godson for this one, if it hadn't been for him having me take care of him for the whole day then I wouldn't have anything to write because as of now I have no motivation or ideas to continue my past wips. Render credits are all to the lovely @ave661 who keeps feeding us. My little godson still sleeping on my chest, drool, snore and all as I'm writing this. I can't move, please send help. This is so short too, sorry to disappoint you guys 😭
Y'all CANNOT tell me I'm the only one who thinks of Simon "Ghost" Riley having baby fever from his own children (I would give him more, all he needs to do is ask 😭). Also these are basically moments of Simon with Ghostie, just a bit more general in terms of the baby's gender since some of y'all want boy!dad Simon but originally Ghostie is a girl.
My CoD Masterlist
Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thesnowurzikdjinn @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @cutenote @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @trepaika @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld
Tumblr media Tumblr media
❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who loves to toss the baby up in the air, simply just for amusement and both of them needed entertainment. Safe to say Soap never did that until the little one was a lot older because when he did it, he ended up with a glob of drool on his face.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who is always so vocal with his baby, you could just tell the influence of him talking to the baby. Just the rumble of his voice sends the tiny one into a fit of giggles while they're on his chest.
❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who was influenced by you to do that viral thing on the internet, people throwing a slice of cheese on their crying baby to make them stop. It worked and they ate it.. now he keeps the fridge stocked with sliced cheese for that reason.
❥ Babyfever!Husband!Simon who was determined to assemble everything, baby's crib, the car seat.. though the bottle sterilizer was something he needed your help with. Both of you trying to figure where the missing piece went only to find your little one chewing on it.
❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who comes home late at night yet his little one follows him like a mother duck, as much as he wants to, Simon refused to have contact until he's out and squeaky clean from a shower. Always worrying about how they might catch something from outside while the little one is directly outside the bathroom door waiting for their dad and peeking from the little space underneath the door, knocking every 3 minutes for dada to come out.
❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who has the time of his life teaching the baby CPR, it started as a joke between the 141 and now your baby knows the word and knows what to do in response to it, the bunny stuffie is the one receiving the medical attention with the little crisp giggle after Simon praises them.
❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who you find laughing his ass off at Soap who was forced by the puppy eyes of your little one to wear a pink tutu that was on the verge of breaking from his size, glittered fairy wings that were made of wire and horrid quality of pink mesh fabric, a plastic tiara and a light up fairy wand. They forced him to do ballet. (Gaz definitely had that as his phone's wallpaper for a month)
❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who love cherishing little moments of how the world reminds him of how naive, dumb and gullible his little one could be. Having a leash kid yet for a completely different reason from misbehaving and being too hyperactive. Walking on a bridge with him over a river as a little family outing at the park when your little one pointed at the aggressive stream of water underneath, Simon jokingly asking them if they want to be tossed in and without a word they turn to you with their arms up and wiggling for uppies. When that didn't work they turned to their dad doing the same thing, making Simon chuckle so much that he almost coughed as they slowly let their arms drape back down to their sides, little pout in disappointment. You playfully glared at your husband, having to explain to a toddler why they can't swim in a strong stream of dirty water.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who is very much amused about how the baby likes his stuble, hoping he won't cause a rash to them because of how much they press their face into his. He makes sure it's extremely well kept after the very first time it happened 😭.
❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who loves seeing his toddler in their sleep shirt which is basically just his shirt drooping on the floor because it's too big for them but the they're chunky enough to keep it on themselves. Just thinking of Simon hearing the loud stomps of footsteps approving their bedroom, the short pause of silence before the frantic sound of the door knob jingling, he always knew who was about to enter the room. Holding their bunny stuffie while pulling on the blanket of their dad's side of the bed to ask him for help to climb up.
1K notes · View notes
yoongiseesawmp3 · 11 months
Text
cupid - seungcheol (m)
summary: brother’s best friend!seungcheol. you move in with your brother joshua while you look for a new place, so you finally meet his best friend and roommate seungcheol. you’ve only heard stories, so you’re not prepared for the good looks or the charm that he constantly exudes. after a really bad date, you need someone to save you, and with joshua mia, seungcheol comes to the rescue.
word count: 9.3k
warnings: smut!!! afab reader. unprotected sex. gendered terms (pretty girl, reader referred to as sister/sis). thigh riding. a little oral (m receiving).
masterlist
“jesus, how many boxes do you have?” joshua complains as you hand him another box of books to lug into his apartment. 
“only a couple more,” you tell him. “these are all the things i couldn’t fit in storage.”
“get a bigger unit next time,” your brother grumbles as you start the walk back into his building. 
“no,” you say stubbornly, and you can almost hear him roll his eyes. “why did you park so far away?”
“why are you complaining!” he shrieks. “i’m doing something very nice for you! be grateful!” 
“i am,” you say as you rush to open the door for him, and he quietly thanks you. “seriously, you don’t know how much this is helping me, big bro. i was about to have a breakdown trying to find a place before my old lease ended.”
“i heard,” joshua laughs. “mom called me the other week and told me to check on you, she thought you were losing it.”
“yeah, well,” you sigh, “if i had to deal with those roommates any longer i was going to.”
“so you’re looking for a place by yourself?” joshua asks as the elevator dings. he lets you go in first, reminding you of what floor to press before you respond.
“yeah, i can finally afford one, so i figured it would be nice to have my own space.”
“i can understand that,” he nods.
“you happy living with your roommates?” you ask. “not ready to give up your frat boy days from college?”
“shut up,” he says. “not all of us got good jobs right after graduation. i need roommates if i wanna live in this area.”
“and remind me of their names again?” you ask, the elevator stopping on your floor. you let joshua go first, following him down the hall and trying to remember the unit number.
“well there’s seungcheol, or cheol,” josh starts. “you haven’t met him yet, he’ll be home later.” he unlocks the door and lets you in as he goes on. “and then mingyu-”
“i remember him,” you say happily, glad to know there’ll be a familiar face here.
“and i remember the little crush you used to have on him,” joshua smiles evilly. 
“i did not!”
“hm, you sure?”
“swear on your life.”
“whatever,” he laughs. “anyway, he’s got a girlfriend now, and we haven’t seen him here for longer than a couple hours since they started dating. so you can stay in his room until you find a place.”
“oh no, i couldn’t-”
“he doesn’t mind,” joshua waves you off, your box placed ungracefully on the floor. “seriously, he doesn’t even keep his stuff here anymore. it won’t be an issue.”
“if you say so,” you sigh. “ok, one more trip?”
“nope,” joshua shakes his head before laying on the couch. “you’ve used up all your favors for today.”
“what a helpful brother you are,” you deadpan. “give me the keys. i’ll go get the rest of my stuff. alone!” 
“sounds good!” josh replies, tossing his keys to you dangerously. “don’t get lost!” 
“no promises!” you shout back, locking the door behind you as you go. you thankfully don’t have much left to bring up, so you’re able to grab a majority of your things this trip. what’s left you can get later, because you’re exhausted. now that you know you have a bed and not an air mattress to sleep on, the idea of laying down is becoming more and more appealing. only problem with you grabbing so many things is now you can’t open the door on your own. thankfully, a guy who must live here too rushes over to hold it for you, nodding when you thank him for the help. he catches the elevator for you both before it closes, sticking his arm out so the doors won’t close in on you as you bring your things inside.
“what floor?” he asks, and you start to reply when you see your floor already selected.
“oh, you’ve got it already,” you tell him, and he nods. end of the conversation, it seems, until you get to the floor and start walking in the same direction. you slow down, waiting for him to maybe turn off at a different door, but, yep, he’s unlocking the door to joshua’s apartment. you stand in the hallway stunned for a moment before you go up and knock the door, not wanting to dig for the keys now that your hands are full. mystery man comes to the door, and you stutter out a greeting.
“don’t tell me you lost my keys already,” joshua calls from within the apartment, and the man, who must be seungcheol, looks between you both.
“you’re joshua’s sister?” he asks, and you nod. he steps aside, letting you in, as he says, “sorry, i didn’t realize. i’m seungcheol.”
“i pieced that together,” you smile. “nice to meet you. thanks for letting me stay here a while.”
“no problem,” he replies. “joshua didn’t really give us a choice anyway.”
“josh you said they were fine with me being here!” you whine, looking for your brother, who pops his head out of the kitchen with a smirk. 
“he’ll get used to it. you hungry, y/n?”
“starving.”
“cheol?”
“i can eat,” he shrugs, eyeing you carefully as you put your things down. josh didn’t say his sister was hot. well, that would be weird. he just didn’t say much about you other than you’re a couple years younger and in need of a place to crash, so the fact that cheol can’t take his eyes off of you is a bit conflicting for the man. he looks away before you can catch him staring, clearing his throat before he says, “um, i’m gonna go wash up.”
“oh, can you show me where the bathroom is?” you ask.
“uh, sure,” cheol says awkwardly, walking down the hall as you follow. he points to one door and says, “that’s joshua’s room, not sure if he said that already. your’s is back there,” he points to a door further down on the right, and then to the door behind you, “that’s your bathroom. you’ll share with your brother.”
“it’s like i’m a kid again,” you joke, and cheol smiles softly. “where’s your room?”
“what?” cheol sputters.
“well is there another bathroom? you said josh and i would share this one, i’m just curious,” you go on. “sorry if i’m prying.”
“no, yeah, um, i have the master suite since i found the place for us,” he explains. “the guys let me have it as a thanks for doing all the apartment hunting.”
“it’s a nice place,” you note, and he hums in agreement. 
“ok, well, um, i’m going,” he says, pointing to his room.
“right, right, sorry,” you say, waving him off. you step into the bathroom to rinse your face off, removing some of the sweat from your long day. you head back out into the kitchen to bother joshua and he looks up as you walk in.
“so how do you like the place?” he questions, and you tell him it’s nice. without looking at you he asks next, “and how do you like cheol?”
“he’s a little awkward, actually,” you reply. “you sure he’s cool with me staying here? i won’t be here long, if it bothers him.”
“he’ll be fine,” josh waves you off. “he may just be tired. looks like he was coming back from the gym so he’ll be better after his nap and a snack. he’s like a toddler.”
“noted,” you laugh. “you need help with anything?”
“nah, you can start unpacking your stuff,” josh says. “i’ll call you when the food’s ready.”
“joshua?”
“yeah?” he asks, turning to look at you. 
“thank you for letting me stay here. really.”
“anytime,” he smiles. “just remember we share a bathroom again, so no long ass showers.”
“way to ruin the moment,” you laugh. 
you end up going back to “your” room to change, putting some of your clothes away in mingyu’s empty dresser. he really must spend all his time at that girl’s place, you think. you take your toiletries into the bathroom, squatting in front of the sink so you can arrange them among joshua’s countless bottles. as you’re balancing and trying not to knock over something in an expensive glass bottle, cheol walks down the hallway in a tank top and sweats, water droplets still sticking to his chest. the sight of him booking it takes you by surprise, so you fall onto your ass and shake your head, clearing whatever strange thoughts the sight of a damp seungcheol were bringing to your mind. 
meanwhile, cheol joins joshua in the kitchen, opting to sit at the counter while josh finishes the noodles. he wants to say something about you, but isn’t sure how to bring it up without seeming weird. he also doesn’t have much time before you come out of your room, so cheol just goes for it.
“um, does y/n need help moving anything else, you think?” cheol offers, and josh looks over his shoulder nonchalantly.
“you can ask her,” he shrugs. “i’m tapped out for the night though, so i’m sure she is too.”
“ok,” cheol nods. he starts playing on his phone, not noticing you walking into the kitchen until joshua starts complaining about something.
“what, i can’t drink your water?” you whine back, frustrated that your brother won’t let you have one of the bottles in the fridge.
“because those aren’t mine!” joshua informs you. “they’re cheol’s, so at least as him before you take one.”
“seungcheol, can i please have one of your waters? i can get the next case if you want,” you say as you turn around, and it takes cheol a second to focus. you’re wearing an old concert t shirt (cheol is pretty sure he has that same one) and shorts that are barely there. cheol is distracted by the sight of your thighs on display and it takes his brain a second to catch up, so he nods before he really knows what he’s agreeing to.
“wait, what? you don’t have to buy more water,” he says, finally there. “have as much as you want. joshua’s just weird.”
“you’re telling me,” you say as you hop up onto the counter.
“i hate when you do that,” josh says, turning to you with his hand on his hip. 
“you know when you do that you look just like mom?”
“shut up.”
“you!” 
“oh my god!” cheol interjects with a laugh. “are you two going to bicker all the time?”
“no,” you say in unison. 
“most of the time though,” you add, and joshua scoffs.
“only when y/n annoys me.”
“am i gonna have to play referee for you two?” cheol asks. “my god.”
“sorry,” you apologize. “we’ll cut it out. right josh?”
“whatever,” he mumbles, pulling the pot from the stove. “y/n can you get a pot holder from that drawer under you and put it on the table for me?”
“yeah, hold on,” you say, moving with a quickness. “don’t burn yourself.”
“i’m being careful,” josh says softly, and cheol laughs to himself at how quickly you can go from bickering to caring for each other. you both join him at the counter, you struggling to get into the tall chair. 
“watch it shorty,” he teases, making you blush. 
“oh no, i can’t deal with both of you teasing me,” you scold. “so zip it. i’ve got little legs.”
“hm, it’s cute,” cheol says loud enough for you to hear but quiet enough that josh doesn’t catch it over the sound of shuffling bowls. he passes them out and starts serving you and cheol. “thanks man.”
“yeah thanks mom,” you joke, and josh mumbles an expletive before eating his food.
-
after eating, you and joshua were both so tired you just went to your rooms. cheol however stayed out in the kitchen, promising he would clean up. instead, he politely snoops through your things, trying to learn more about you through your boxes of junk. he doesn’t touch anything, just looks, so he doesn’t feel that bad about it. he takes note of the books laying on top of one box, jotting down the titles so he can try to find some of them later. he smiles when he sees a soccer jersey falling out of a duffel bag, and he’s about to break his no touching rule when he hears a loud, “HEY!” from the hallway. he jumps at the sound, bumping his elbow on one of the boxes and toppling books over. he whirls around to find you, clad in a baggy sleep shirt with tired eyes watching on in amusement.
“what the hell are you doing?” you question, and cheol tries to stammer out a response.
“i uh, i saw a bug,” he lies, and you nod. 
“hm, i thought josh would keep his house cleaner than that,” you judge. 
“i’m the pig in this relationship, it’s probably my fault,” cheol says as he follows you back into the kitchen. “couldn’t sleep?”
“no, i’m still hungry,” you grumble. “the noodles were my only meal today.”
“you need to eat more,” cheol scolds and you wave him off as you open the fridge.
“whose lunchable is this?” you ask over your shoulder.
“look at me,” cheol gestures. “do i look like i eat those?” you stare maybe a little longer and harder than you should, prompting cheol to ask, “find something else you like?”
“what? no,” you shake your head. “i should’ve known it was my brother’s. he lived off of these for a month when he was younger.”
“really?” cheol chuckles. “what was joshua like as a kid?”
“hm, angelic?” you say sarcastically, hopping back up on the counter like you were earlier. you start eating your lunchable as you keep talking. “he was the perfect one and i was the biter.”
“the biter?” 
“i bit so many kids i almost got kicked out of school,” you confirm. “sorry. don’t know why i just told you that. it’s embarrassing.”
“it’s okay,” cheol smiles. “you still like to bite people now?”
“only when provoked,” you say suspiciously. 
“i’ll remember that.”
“so you really don’t mind me staying here?” you ask with cracker crumbs on your lips. cheol finds that captivating, so he keeps his eyes on your lips as he responds.
“i really don’t mind,” he nods. “i’m just happy we could help. josh was worried about you for a while.”
“yeah, well, he never liked my roommates-”
“or the area you were in,” cheol says sternly. “he said it wasn’t safe.”
“oh it wasn’t,” you nod. “but it was cheap.”
“still, you need to be careful,” cheol tells you.
“didn’t know i was signing up for a bonus brother by staying here,” you tease.
“i’m not being a bonus brother, i’m simply a concerned citizen,” he says, hand over his heart. you fall silent while you finish eating, and cheol does his best to commit your form to memory. he wants you to be embedded in his eyelids when he lays down and closes his eyes tonight, and he only feels bad for a nanosecond that he feels this way about his friend’s baby sister. 
“ok, well, thank you for the company,” you say as you look for the trashcan. 
“under the sink,” cheol says, anticipating what you were looking for and keeping his eyes on you still. “all good?” he asks when you’ve thrown everything away, and you nod. “alright, well, good night.”
“night seungcheol,” you say with an awkward wave as you go back to your room. when you’re halfway down the hall you hear cheol call your name, so you turn to find his eyes smiling at you.
“call me cheol, i like that better.”
“oh, ok. night cheol,” you try again, and he happily nods. 
-
when you wake up the next morning, you hear someone in the kitchen and assume joshua must be up and about. you wrap a blanket around yourself, laughing at the fact that mingyu has a pink fuzzy blanket in his room. you make your way into the kitchen, ready to complain about how cold you were last night. 
“dude, are you rich or something? why’d you run the ac all-” you stop short, staring at cheol’s bare back. he looks back at you, hair ruffled, and has the audacity to smirk. “sorry. thought you were josh.”
“he’s still asleep,” cheol replies, and you consider just going back to your room to hide until you’re sure your brother is out here as a buffer. with his back to you still, he asks, “do you want eggs?”
“uh, sure?”
“are you?” cheol laughs, turning around to face you fully. you’re doing your best to keep your eyes on his face, but when he crosses his arms over that broad chest of his you falter. “i promise i won’t put anything weird in em.”
“that’s reassuring,” you say with a yawn, letting the blanket fall slightly as you cover your mouth. cheol sees your sleep shirt again, this time stretched out from your movements as you slept, and he wonders for a moment if it would look like that after he uses it to pull you closer and- “do you mind if i make coffee?”
“go for it,” cheol says, grateful for the distraction from where his mind was going. “machine’s over there.”
“thanks,” you mumble, half asleep still. you stand in front of the coffee maker for a moment, brain processing what you need to get first.
“you need me to find the instruction manual?” cheol asks, watching you the whole time you were standing there. 
“make your eggs cheol.”
you empty the coffee grounds that were still in the bucket, then take a fresh filter from the stack on the counter. you move around cheol to fill the pot with water, making sure there’s enough for you all to have a cup if you want. after pouring the water in, you notice you’re missing one crucial thing. you check the counter, nothing. you try the drawers below you, then the cabinets below those. still nothing. you move to the pantry and spend a moment frustratedly moving things around in search of coffee and you come up empty once again. as you turn around to look everywhere once again, you almost jump out of your skin seeing cheol so close, watching you with an amused look in his eyes.
“jesus, you scared me,” you gasp.
“i’ll wear a bell next time,” he jokes. “looking for something?”
“the coffee, where do you keep it? please don’t tell me you’re out,” you whine, and cheol just smiles. 
“you can find it on your own, i believe in you.”
“what? no, tell me.”
“and why should i do that?” cheol asks seriously. 
“i don’t know, because i’m cute?” you joke. 
“yeah, you are,” cheol says, holding your gaze, quirking an eyebrow to challenge you. you swear you would deck him if he wasn’t so handsome. you whirl around to look in the pantry again before you hear cheol’s deep voice just barely say “colder.”
you look at him suspiciously, and he’s back to cooking the eggs. he’s keeping one eye on you though, sneaking looks at you and trying not to smile at how ridiculously cute you are being so frustrated over this. he prompts you with a few more “cold”/”colder” clues before you whine in exasperation.
“but i already checked over here,” you complain, back in front of the machine. “i’ll just go get coffee, forget this-” 
you reach out to turn the coffee maker off, and cheol mumbles “warmer.” your ears perk up, so you move your hand around the counter to get a clue. finally you lift your hand toward the cabinet above the coffee maker, and cheol says you’re getting warmer. 
“hot,” he says as you finally open the cabinet, “hotter, hotter than you are, hottest, you’re on fire! be careful!” he continues, even though you’ve found the coffee and you can now finish the pot you were making. “well that took a while.”
“because someone was being childish,” you chastise him, and cheol smiles like he just won the lottery.
“but it was fun!”
-
“why didn’t you like that place?” joshua asks as you leave another perfectly fine apartment. 
“there’s no dog park,” you reply, and your brother groans. loudly.
“you don’t even HAVE a dog,” he complains.
“but i want one! i can’t have a dog if there’s no where for it to go!”
 “come on y/n, that place was nice!” joshua tries hyping it up for you. “there was so much space, way too many closets which is good for you and all your junk, and that view was amazing.”
“the view was really nice,” you concede, and josh bumps shoulders with you as you keep walking toward his apartment.
“plus it’s walking distance from me,” he smiles. “so you can bother me whenever you want.”
“that is a plus.”
“and it means you’re close to cheol too...”
“what?” you stop and look at him, and he laughs.
“i’m just saying. it’d be easy for you to visit. doesn’t matter who you’re visiting.”
ignoring joshua’s insinuations, you go back to discussing the apartment you just saw. if you wanted to apply you needed to move fast, but you were nervous. joshua listened intently as you aired all your worries, and like the good big brother he is he calmly countered each ridiculous thought with logic and only a few jokes. by the time you were walking down his hallway, you were convinced that you’d found your apartment. you grab your laptop from mingyu’s room and start working on the application, joshua peering over your shoulder every once in a while to help you decipher what it’s asking for. you’re thankful for the help, and you turn to ask him another question and almost jump out of your skin.
“jesus, make some noise next time,” you gasp, seeing shirtless cheol behind you again. he was leaning over the couch, close enough that his chin could almost lean on your shoulder. 
“whatcha doin?” he asks with a cheshire cat-like grin.
“applying for an apartment,” you inform him, and you’re not sure but you think his face falls just slightly. “do you ever wear shirts at home?”
“why, is that a problem for you?” he asks. you feel like a goldfish, closing and opening your mouth like an idiot trying to decide how to respond.
“y/n?” joshua laughs as he comes back from the bathroom to see you mooning over his roommate. “you good?”
“i’m being heckled,” you finally reply, and cheol laughs. 
“i asked if she needed help, sorry if that’s heckling now,” he says as he moves away from the couch.
“it is when your tits are out,” you grumble, scrolling back to the page you were working on. cheol made you mess up, but don’t tell him that.
“not like you haven’t seen them before, sweets!” cheol teases, and joshua looks between you both in amusement.
“you’ve been staring at his tits, y/n?” 
“no, he just never has clothes on apparently,” you defend yourself. “he was shirtless this morning when we had breakfast too.”
“you had breakfast together?” joshua asks, looking to just cheol now. he had told josh he slept in today and that you must have made the mess in the kitchen. why didn’t he say he ate with you?
“we were in the same room when we ate, yeah,” cheol nods. joshua leaves it at that, mostly because you start whining about something you don’t understand on your application. he rejoins you at the couch and cheol goes to his room, silently cursing himself for letting josh catch him so easily. he didn’t want your brother knowing he was catching feelings, so he’ll have to play it cool from now on. 
-
speaking of being cool, the boys keep this apartment too cold. after your first freezing night, you wore more clothes to bed thinking that would keep you warm. unfortunately, you don’t know where your hoodies are, so you had to make do. so when you wake up in the middle of the night shivering, you stomp out of your room to go bang on your brother’s door. just as you’re raising your fist to bang on his door, you hear cheol’s open down the hallway.
“you again?” you groan, not missing the fact that cheol still isn’t wearing a shirt. “how are you not freezing?”
“i am,” he replies, and you fall silent. “i was getting up to change the thermostat.” 
“oh.”
“and you were..?”
“gonna complain about it to my brother?” you say sheepishly, making cheol laugh.
“joshua is the one that keeps it so cold, he would just tell you to go back to bed,” he tells you as he walks toward the thermostat. “you know you technically live here. you can adjust this if you want.”
“i know,” you nod, watching cheol move it to an acceptable temperature. 
“so why didn’t you?” he asks.
“i uh, didn’t think about it.”
“no?”
“that, and i don’t...know..how to use it...” you mumble, hoping cheol drops it.
“you don’t know how to use a thermostat?” he teases with that perpetual smirk he seems to always wear around you.
“no, and at this point in my life i think it’s too late to learn,” you say. “thank you for fixing it tonight, hopefully i won’t wake up frozen in the morning.”
you try to turn and head back to bed, but cheol grabs you by the back of your shirt and pulls you toward his warm chest. he places an arm around you lightly, turning you so you’re staring at the thermostat, trying very hard to ignore cheol’s direct stare as he speaks again.
“it’s easy sweets, just push this notch,” he demonstrates, “then push the up and down buttons to change the temperature. this is good for when you want it to be cool, but if you want to clean out my wallet you can keep it a couple degrees cooler.” he finishes and turns his head back toward you again, and you notice just how close he is. you’re afraid of moving, of speaking, but cheol takes care of that for you. “any questions?”
“yeah, can you move your arm?” you whisper. 
“no,” he whispers back. “why are you whispering?”
“because i’m scared?” cheol looks at you confused. “i’m afraid you’re gonna put me in a headlock.”
“you want me to?” he laughs, finally stepping back to give you some space. “do you need extra blankets or anything?”
“ah, no,” you reply. “i wanted to find my box of hoodies but i have no idea where it is, so the blankets in mingyu’s room will be fine.”
“you need a hoodie?” cheol asks, and without giving you a chance to respond he disappears into his room. he comes out with a mound of blue fabric in his hands before pushing it into your arms. “use this.”
“no, i can’t-”
“take it,” he says firmly. “or i’ll be forced to keep you warm myself.” at the sound of that threat, you hastily pull the hoodie on before thanking cheol and ducking back into your room for the night. he stands out in the hallway, smiling to himself.
-
you’re busy for a few days after that, finally settled at your brother’s place and able to focus back on work and finding back up apartments if the other place falls through. you’re not home much, and by the end of the week joshua sits you down to convince you that you need to go out. 
“josh, i’ve had such a long week,” you start to justify. “i don’t wanna go out this weekend. i’m afraid i’d fall asleep at the club.”
“no, no, i didn’t mean anything like that,” he clarifies. “i think you need to go on a date.”
“why?” you ask, a little shocked. joshua never cared about your love life, mostly just judging from afar (and sometimes not so afar). you tend to keep that part of your life private anyway, so it’s not like you let joshua be a part of it outside of obligatory meet the partner nights with your family.
“i don’t know,” he shrugs, “i just think you’d enjoy it. i actually have this friend-”
“oh god, please don’t do this-” you start to complain, afraid josh is about to set you up with cheol.
“no, no, hear me out,” josh continues. “he’s your age, he’s sweet, he’s cute i guess, and i think you’d really like him.”
“so i’m guessing you have all of this planned?” you ask, and joshua smiles.
“be ready tomorrow at 8. he’s picking you up, and i’ll be at jeonghan’s if you want to bring him back-”
“don’t say that please,” you request, holding your hand up. “i’ll go on the date but i don’t wanna hear my brother insinuate i’m gonna have sex at his apartment.”
“i didn’t say anything, you’re the one that insinuated,” joshua laughs as he gets up, passing behind you and kissing the top of your head as he goes to his room. “you’re gonna have a great time, sis.”
-
despite not wanting to go on this date, you were nervous. you don’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of this guy, because he’s friends with your brother and anything embarrassing will be brought to joshua and used to ridicule you for the rest of your life. you also don’t wanna write this guy off before you meet him, because he could be nice. maybe.
that fire is quickly put out when you actually meet the guy. his name is chan, but he claims josh and all their friends call him dino. you wanted to ask why, but you were afraid of the answer. you just smiled politely and tried to lock up quickly, hoping that the faster you move the quicker this date will be over. 
at the sound of the front door closing, cheol is stirred from his nap. he didn’t have any big plans, but he had gone to the gym earlier and exhausted himself so he thought he deserved some rest. he assumed the door sound meant you or joshua was home, but after checking he realized it was just him. he wonders for a moment if he should check on you, but he decides against it. instead he takes a shower and starts working on dinner, choosing a chill night to rest since he has the place to himself. 
meanwhile, your date is going horribly. first of all, chan was super awkward walking with you to his car, and then he didn’t speak much on the ride to dinner. oh, well, he did, except that was only his road rage coming out. you heard this man say more cuss words in a fifteen minute car ride than you’ve heard from anyone else all year. he’s said fuck more times than he’s said your name, and quite frankly you’re not confident he knows what it is. 
once you get to the restaurant, chan basically leaves you in the car. you’re not a damsel in distress, you don’t need a man to open your door for you, but it would be nice if the man you’re on a date with would at least wait until you’re out of the car to head toward the restaurant. you make it to the curb and don’t know where chan has gone until he pops out of the restaurant asking an annoyed, “you coming?”
once you’re seated, things don’t get much better. the waitress is pretty, and she’s obviously more interested in chan than you are. you’ve given up on the date by this point, but you think you can get a free meal out of it, so you keep suffering. when he’s not flirting with the waitress, chan is mansplaining to you and gesturing so wildly you’re afraid he’s going to knock everything off the table. he tries asking you questions but keeps talking over you, and when he does let you speak he either looks offended or checks his phone. before your appetizers come, you’re ready to leave.
“what did i do to deserve this?” you text joshua as you half listen to chan describe the most boring thing in the most cocky way possible. you hope joshua will respond, but there’s nothing. 
“are you mad at me? is that why you tricked me into going on the worst date of my life?” you text again, and still no response. 
“hey, that’s kind of rude,” chan says, and you can feel your blood start to boil.
“weren’t you on your phone when i was talking earlier?” you ask in disbelief, and he shakes his head. 
“no, i wasn’t. because that’s rude,” he repeats. you want to groan and slam your head on the table, but you refrain. “whatever. i’m going to the restroom, text away.”
that you do. you keep texting joshua, trying to annoy him into responding, but he stands tall. whatever he’s doing is more important that your horrible night. you have an infinite list in your mind of things that you would rather be doing right now, so you understand josh’s disinterest.
speaking of disinterest, you look up to find chan and see him leaned over the bar talking to another waitress. this time she’s way into it, hand on his arm and phone out to take down his number. you watch as he types it in, then pull out a barstool and take a seat. now you do groan, and without leaving the table you call your brother, ready to beg for a ride back home. 
“come on, pick up, pick up please,” you mumble, hoping beyond hope that joshua will be your knight in shining armor. you get his voicemail and leave behind some choice words before slamming your phone down on the table, frustrated tears threatening to fall. you’re still new to this part of town, so your brother is your only lifeline right now. you don’t trust your ability to walk home without getting snatched, and you know that calling any of your friends would mean sitting here for at least an hour while they come get you. you’re about to go hide in the bathroom when you think of one other option.
seungcheol.
you don’t know where he is or what he’s doing tonight, but you find the “temporary roomies” chat that josh put you into and call cheol from there. you start the same plea, whispering pick up over and over, but cheol answers on the second ring.
“hey sweets,” you can tell he’s smiling. “what’s going on, you and josh having fun without me?”
“cheol, hi, listen,” you start, “josh set me up on a blind date and the guy is a dick and-”
“what did he do?” cheol cuts you off, and you tell him about the car ride, the attitude, and now his interest in any woman that’s not you. “fuck him. fuck your brother too. where are you? i’m on my way.”
“cheol, no, i was mostly calling to see if josh was home-”
“send me the address, y/n,” he says firmly. “i’ll be there soon.”
he wasn’t lying. it feels like only a few minutes have passed when there’s a commotion at the door and you see cheol stalking through the restaurant looking for you. you gather your things and stand, and chan sees you out of the corner of his eye. he comes rushing over just as cheol reaches you, and it’s almost comical watching this stare down as chan gets closer.
“come on, we’re leaving,” cheol tells you, pushing a helmet into your hands.
“what is this?” you ask, eyeing chan awkwardly. 
“hey, pal, we’re on a date, so she’s not going anywhere,” chan tells cheol, and he laughs in his face. 
“sorry, pal, date’s over,” he says, pushing chan back lightly. “go back to the waitress. we’re done here.” cheol doesn’t wait to hear what other bullshit chan might try to say. instead he grabs you by the wrist and guides you out of the restaurant to a motorcycle propped up outside. he looks at you smoothly and motions to the helmet. “i said put that on, doll. can’t ride without protection.”
“o-ok,” you stutter, placing the helmet over your head delicately. cheol stops you and turns you toward him, clicking the helmet into place under your chin, feeling his fingers on your neck sends a tingle down your spine, and you do your best to ignore it. 
“there you go,” he whispers, satisfied with his work. he grabs your head in both hands and playfully shakes you from side to side, smirking as he says, “quick road test, sorry.”
“cheol, you’re crazy,” you laugh, thankful for the distraction. “i didn’t know you drove a bike. this is cool.”
“glad you like it,” he says as he hops on. “now come on, let’s go home before i go beat that loser up.” 
you carefully and tentatively hold onto cheol’s shoulder as you sling your leg over the seat, sliding down accidentally so your chest is pressed firmly to his back. you grab onto his other shoulder and wait, thinking cheol will leave any second. 
“can’t hold on like that,” he seems to whisper, looking at you over his shoulder. “you’ll fall off.”
“well i don’t wanna bother you-”
“please,” you hear him scoff, and then he’s pulling your arms down to his waist. he even takes the liberty of lacing your hands together over his stomach so it’s easier for you to hold on. and suddenly you feel very warm. you can feel the outline of his muscles through his shirt, and being so close to him is getting you drunk off of whatever shampoo or cologne he’s wearing. 
“cheol,” you say before he kicks off, and he’s looking back at you again. “i’m sorry about this. thank you for coming to get me.”
“anytime,” he says sweetly, his eyes flicking to your lips briefly. “now hold on tight.”
before you know it, cheol is kicking off and zooming down the near empty street, ripping a scream of surprise and joy out of you. you thought you’d be petrified right now, but this is actually exhilarating. you’re not sure if it’s the adrenaline of the motorcycle ride or the proximity to cheol, but you almost feel lightheaded. you’re shrieking and laughing like this is a rollercoaster, and there’s a smile plastered on cheol’s face as he listens. 
when you get to a red light, cheol slows down and instructs you to keep your feet up as he places his firmly on the ground. he looks back at you as best he can and asks, “having fun?”
“this is incredible,” you smile. “do an extra lap. i don’t wanna go home yet.”
“yeah?” cheol asks happily, and you nod.
“wait, unless you had plans!” you say. “oh my god, cheol, i’m so sorry, i didn’t even consider that you might have been busy, oh god. i should’ve asked, i should’ve-”
“stop talking,” he tells you. “i’m glad you called. i’d do this for you every day of the week if you needed it.”
“thank you,” you say meekly as cheol revs the bike before carefully driving again. you ride and listen to the sound of the city get whipped by around you, watching the lights and realizing how much you’re enjoying yourself. you lay your chin on cheol’s shoulder and think about the butterflies in your stomach, noticing that they’re going more wild now than they ever have before. 
when you get back to the apartment, you’re immediately met with the smell of food. you’re about to cuss joshua out, assuming he had been home this whole time, until cheol walks ahead of you into the kitchen and asks, “did you get to eat on this horrible mistake i just saved you from?”
“hey, whoa, i was doing this because of my brother,” you say defensively. “it wasn’t my mistake, i was bamboozled.”
“you could’ve said no,” cheol shrugs as he leans against the doorway. then he holds your gaze and asks, “why didn’t you say no?”
“i-i don’t know,” you reply, turning away because cheol’s stare is too heavy for your right now. “i guess, yeah, i did it because i thought it would make josh happy since he set it up, but...i don’t know. it would be nice to have someone, i guess.”
“to have someone?” cheol smirks, taking a step or two closer to you.
“yeah, like have someone be mine,” you say shyly, looking up to find cheol closer than you expected. he stands in front of you, smirk hanging off his lips, arms loosely crossed over his broad chest. 
“you have me,” he says, moving so close to you that you can feel his breath on your lips. he holds your gaze, waiting for you to make a move. awkwardly, you lean in, lips almost brushing. you get nervous and try to back away but cheol quickly grabs you by the chin and whispers, “and i’ve got you” before connecting your lips. your hands fall to his chest, obliviously rubbing your hands over his muscles. his touch to your chin stays gentle but firm, holding you in place so he can devour your lips. you’re breathless quick, but you don’t want to pull away. the sound of keys in the front door scare you out of your daze, and you separate from cheol like you’ve been shocked. joshua walks in, unaware (or is he?) of what he just interrupted. pleased with himself, he looks from you to cheol and back to you before asking, “so...how was your night?”
-
you’ve been avoiding cheol. you can’t believe you kissed him, and you can’t believe you liked it. you liked it so much that you’re afraid of what might happen if you’re around him again, because nothing can happen. he’s your brother’s best friend! it’s like reverse bro code to date your brother’s friend. that would be...weird? and yet here you are, daydreaming about it. 
cheol knows what you’re doing. he knows you’ve been spooked, and he’s annoyed. now that he’s had a taste of you he only wants more, so you hiding from him when he’s out of his room or only leaving yours when he’s in the shower or asleep is really getting on his nerves. you can’t avoid him forever, but damn it if you’re not gonna try. 
you’re currently speedrunning all of your chores, trying to clean the bathroom while your laundry is on and in between you’re washing all of your dirty dishes. you’re doing this because you know cheol will come out of his room soon to go to the gym, so you’re hoping to be tucked away safely in your room before that happens. however, the biggest man in the apartment still manages to move like a mouse, so you turn around to put some plates away and find cheol leaning against the kitchen counter, watching you intently. 
“fuck you, stop sneaking up on me!” you shriek. “i’m serious about that bell now. wear loud shoes or something, god.”
“why, so you can hear me coming and hide?” he asks seriously, and you fall silent. you join him on the other side of the room, stretching to put the plates in the cabinet. cheol keeps watching, realizing this is the first time he’s seen you show so much skin. shorts pulled up just barely over your ass, like usual, driving him insane, like usual. but now you’re just wearing a sports bra on top, and cheol doesn’t miss the way you’re giving him the perfect view of your chest. he’s unapologetically staring, and without facing him you mumble telling him to stop. “i can stare if i want.”
“well can you stop, please?” you beg, turning and crossing your arms over your chest, just pressing your cleavage up more. 
“baby, work with me here,” he groans. “you can’t kiss me like that the other night and then hide from me. and you can’t look like that and not expect me to stare.”
“stop telling me what i can and can’t do,” you grumble, trying to remember what you were about to do. you start to walk away but cheol grabs you lightly by the wrist, and you ask nicely, “let me go.”
“you can leave,” cheol encourages. “i’m not holding on tight.”
but you stay right where you are, a few steps away from cheol. his hand slides down from your wrist to lace his fingers with yours. he squeezes your hand sweetly before tugging you back in front of him, a stupid smirk gracing his handsome face. 
“hi beautiful,” he smiles, making you blush. “so tell me. am i a bad kisser or something?”
“what?” you ask, shocked he would even think that. “n-no, why?”
“well,” he sighs, hands sliding around your waist too quick for you to object, “it’s just that we kissed, and i thought it was pretty sexy, and then you just disappeared on me. which is amazing considering we live together right now.”
“i’m good at teleporting,” you joke, and cheol pinches your hip. 
“answer me, y/n,” he tries again. “why are you hiding?”
“because you’re joshua’s friend,” you say with a face. “i can’t date you.”
“who said anything about dating?” cheol smiles. “we’ve got two beds, sweets. take your pick.”
“you can’t be serious.”
“you don’t want to?” cheol asks, seemingly dragging you closer to himself. he slots his leg between yours, leans in close and asks, “so if i check your panties right now, they wouldn’t be wet?”
“cheol, i-”
“hm?” he asks, pulling back enough to look right in your eyes. “you don’t want this, just say the word and i’m gone. but if you do, baby, please let me do this.”
“joshua can’t know,” you whisper fast before you’re grabbing cheol and kissing him again. his hands slide from their spot on your waist to cup your ass, nudging your core over his thigh. you whimper at the slight drag, and cheol tenses his thigh as he brings your hips forward again. 
“i don’t even need to put my hand down your pants to know you’re wet,” he says proudly. “you ok with soaking my thigh a little bit first, baby?” you nod, and he tsks. “you need to use your words. not gonna do anything unless i know you want it.”
“let me keep going,” you say breathlessly, and cheol easily obliges. he dives back into your lips, hands gripping your ass to keep you grinding over his thigh. you get lost in the pressure between your legs, but you don’t want to be interrupted like you were last time. you try to break from cheol’s lips but he brings a hand up to keep you in place, doing his best to memorize the shape of your lips with his. you realize you need to get his attention a different way, so you reach down to cup his cock through his shorts. he hisses at the contact, lips pulled from yours. “cheol, stop.”
“what, what’s wrong?” he asks, worried. 
“let’s go to my room,” you say with a nod, and his eyes shimmer with lust and a bit of glee. he’s dragging you down the hallway with him, doing his best not to tear your clothes off and leave a trail. once he’s in your room, you push him back lightly so you can be sure to shut the door. cheol takes this time to lay back on your pillows, patting his thigh to invite you back. you join him on the bed, ready to straddle him and go back to grinding down on his stupidly thick thigh, but he stops you. 
“shorts off,” he instructs, and you pull them off eagerly. “let me see your panties.” your legs on either side of his, you sit up and lean back, hoping cheol gets what he wants. he hums and nods when he sees the wet patch, grabbing for your waist to pull you back over his leg. “let’s get you warmed up a little more, need you ready to ride me soon.”
cheol brings your core back down to his thigh, guiding your movements as you whine on top of him. you’re not sure what to do with your hands, so you let one of them wander up to push your bra over your chest, playing with your nipple as cheol guides you agonizingly slow. you try to bounce and get more friction but that makes him hold you down tighter and your whines get louder. 
“that’s it baby, show me how pretty you are when you come and then i’ll give you my cock,” he growls out, a hand slipping down to push past the waistband of your panties. he swipes a finger down to play with your clit and he moans when he feels how wet you are. “all this for me, pretty girl?”
“yes, for you, just like that,” you moan, “make me come please, need to come.”
“you can come,” cheol coaxes. “just waiting on you.” he applies a little more pressure over your clit, and then you’re shaking above him, a soundless gasp left on your lips. as you try to blink away the spots in your eyes, you hurriedly help cheol get undressed, crawling down to his cock before he can stop you. you pull his boxers down as he takes his shirt off, and you gasp when you see his size. you grab him by the base and take a taste, kitten licking his tip and driving him crazy. he wants to wrap his hands in your hair and guide you over his cock, but an equal part wants to pull you up just so he can feel your pussy clenching around him. he lets you decide the pace though, hissing through his teeth as you keep licking him, until you’re ready to swallow his cock little by little. you get halfway down before you need to pull back, and you’re worried he won’t fit. 
“not to feed your ego or anything,” you say after popping off of his cock, “but you’re really big.”
“no that definitely feeds my ego.”
“i don’t think you’re gonna fit,” you say, worried. 
“well get in my lap and we’ll find out, sweets,” he says, reaching for you to help you up and over his legs again. he holds his cock still for you as you line him up with your entrance, and you glance at him one last time, still concerned. “take it slow. i know you can do it.”
“but-”
“baby, i’m letting you pick the pace,” he laughs. “if it were up to me i would’ve slammed you down on my cock already.”
“hmm someone’s horny,” you joke, and cheol thrusts up in retaliation. you gasp at the feeling of his tip at your entrance, and you do what he says. you take it slow, holding your breath as you feel him stretch you out with every inch. 
“how you feeling baby?”
“good,” you gasp out.
“make sure you breathe,” cheol reminds you, and you nod as you take a few deep breaths. he can feel every movement on his cock, and it’s driving him insane to not be fully inside you right now. he tries to push you down a little further, but you cry out and he stops. he gives you a moment to adjust, and you move on your own when you’re ready. you keep pushing down, taking more and more. “you’re doing so good baby.”
“it’s too big,” you gasp out, looking down to see how much you have left to go.
“no it’s not.”
“but it is,” you whine, trying to pull up completely. that’s the last straw for cheol though, because he grips your hips and slams you down over his cock, your clit even grinding over his pubic bone slightly. you shudder at the feeling, shocked speechless at the feeling of cheol’s cock so deep inside you. he helps you ride him at first, but you take over and start a steady pace. you don’t think you’ve ever felt someone this deep before, and your body feels like it’s on fire. 
“you can take it, that’s it,” he encourages, and you pick up the pace. cheol starts meeting you halfway, adjusting so he can hit your core just right. when he thrusts up and you almost fall over on top of him he knows he’s found the right spot, doing his best to keep his pace steady. he pulls you down so you’re caging him in, and he lays your head on his chest as he takes over, thrusting into you so fast you start seeing stars. you’re moaning into his chest, maybe drooling a little too, and it’s driving him insane. you feel so good around him, so warm, so tight, so wet. the sounds of your pussy are embarrassing to you and intoxicating to him, he wishes he had the patience to lay between your legs and lick you clean before fucking you again. but he’ll save that for later. for now, he needs to find a place to come. “where do you want me?”
“stomach,” you mumble into his chest, sitting back up with your hands on his pecs. “gonna come?”
“if you come first, yeah,” cheol nods. he focuses on bringing you closer, grabbing one of your hands off his chest and guiding it to your lips. you open, and he tells you to suck. after you’ve wet your middle and ring finger, cheol brings them down to your clit, leading your movements and applying pressure as he wants. it’s so sexy, letting him lead you like this, and the way he’s staring at you is making your chest tingle, and his cock is still buried deep inside you as you start getting closer. when cheol pulls you down with his free hand, connecting your lips again, you start to come, whimpering into his mouth as the waves crash over you. he works you through it, giving you only a second or two to rest before he’s pumping you again, chasing his own release. he pulls out and immediately starts stroking his cock, coming with a quiet gasp. you shudder as you feel his come land across your stomach, some even hitting your pussy lips. you lean back to let him see his masterpiece, and cheol looks pleased. 
“let me get a washcloth,” you mumble, moving to get up. once you’re off of him, cheol springs into action, guiding you to lay back down. 
“no, you’ll be sore soon, let me do it,” he says before ducking out of your room. he comes back with a wet washcloth and waters for you both, which you take graciously. he cleans you up carefully, and then he joins you back on the bed. the last thing you remember before falling asleep is cheol pushing your hair back, smiling at you softly.
-
you wake up the next morning to a knock at your door, followed by another louder knock.
“what?” you groan, rolling over to face the door just as joshua pops in. 
“morning to you too,” he yawns. “i’m getting breakfast. text me what you want.”
“mhm,” you yawn in reply. “close my door.”
josh leaves without doing what you asked, and there’s a beat of silence before you hear the front door close. you feel hands wrap around your waist, pulling you into a strong, warm, bare chest. cheol pops his chin onto your shoulder, cheesing as he asks, “you think he knew i was here?”
4K notes · View notes
Note
Request : first time holding hands
I’d love to see their reactions 😭
First Time Holding Hands
Short Headcanons || Gender Neutral Language!
Genre: Fluff Featuring: Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde, Javier Escuella, Charles Smith, Sean MacGuire, and Sadie Adler Warnings: None
AN: A shorter post today! Thank you so much for requesting these were so fun to write I literally love doing cute little moments with these characters ~ I hope I answered the way you meant !! lol I feel like I got a little off track in some ---> Requests are open! Check out guidelines if you have any questions :)
<><><><>
Arthur Morgan:
This man is a nervous wreck around you. Especially when you first start showing feelings for each other.
It took a million years for him to even admit that he was a little sweet on you, he is definitely not initiating anything past that point.
He can barely believe that you like him back.
The first time you grab his hand is not during anything special.
You’re sitting in the front of a wagon with him while on the way into town. The sun is casting a golden sheen across the earth, the air is warm but not hot, and the birds are swooping and playing in the sky overhead.
Without much thought you reach down to where he’s resting his arm on his thigh and envelope his hand with your own.
He tenses up at the contact, scared to make any sudden moves in case he might scare you away.
He doesn’t look at you directly, instead just glancing at you from the side of his eye. He wonders if you meant to do that or if you just did it by accident.
How your hand would end up on his on his thigh he doesn’t know.
When your thumb starts stroking the skin around his knuckle, tough and calloused from a few too many brawls, he starts to melt and relax a little bit.
He flips his hand around, which makes you pull away slightly, and fits his fingers in between yours. That way he’s holding your hand back and it’s a mutual.
There’s a blush on his cheeks and a grin on his lips. Not a word is spoken, but Arthur relishes the comfortable silence as he tries to think of what on earth he could have done to deserve something so perfect - to deserve you.
John Marston:
John is not a touchy-feely kind of guy. Not at first anyways. He doesn’t get what you see in him. He doesn’t understand why of all the men in the world - Hell, all the men in camp - you chose to waste your time with him.
He’s angsty like that.
He knows of your feelings for him and he gave a strong inclination that he might like you back but never confessed anything really. He figured you understood him enough to know.
You did, but he’s hard to read sometimes.
The first time you hold hands, he actually initiates it. You try not to overstep any boundaries with him, so he always has to make the first moves.
While playing a few practice rounds of poker (John is trying to teach you to play/play better), jokes are being thrown back and forth and rocks are being used as chips for show.
When John’s focus is pulled to the cards in his hands, you take the opportunity to try and grab a few rocks from his pile to add to your own as a little joke.
John catches you and places his large hand on top of your own making you freeze. A smug grin is plastered on his face and he doesn’t even look at you before placing his cards down, showing off a winning hand.
“Read ‘em and weep, Darlin’,” He laughs but never removes his hand from yours.
A small blush rises to your cheeks and his gaze falls to your combined hands. He curls his fingers under your own so that he’s fully holding your hand in his.
You try to catch his eye, but he’s so focused on his large, scarred hand covering your softer skin. It eats at him a little; a guilty feeling settles into his chest.
You place your other hand on his cheek and press on it lightly to direct his head to look at you. You smile one of your so-sweet smiles that makes his stomach ache a little with admiration, and he grins.
The two of you sit there for a while and continue trying to play poker each with one hand.
Dutch Van Der Linde:
Dutch has always been really hands-on with you. (Wink Wink)
He’s flamboyant, a show-off, cocky, and passionate. He loves to show you off and show off to everyone that you are his.
The first time he holds your hand, it’s to explicitly show that you are his and he is yours.
Most times after that, when Dutch holds your hand it means that the two of you are connected, not two people but one. Not just a couple but a unit.
He’s dramatic that way.
The very first time he holds your hand is during an argument with Hosea. A few things about camp affairs come up, plans are being thrown around, and Hosea makes a comment suggesting that you don’t need to be there for their conversation.
Dutch glares at the older man and reaches down to grasp your hand in his.
“But Daddy I love him!” Vibes I’m not going to lie.
He stands a little taller now that he’s touching you, it makes him feel stronger and more sure of what he’s saying. He puffs out his chest and looks down his nose at Hosea.
Hosea rolls his eyes a little and puts his hands up in surrender, telling Dutch that he can do what he wants.
When Hosea leaves, Dutch uses your entwined hands to pull you towards his side a little bit and hold you in an embrace.
He calls you his partner in crime, his other half, and a million other sultry things he can think of that causes a heat to rise in your chest.
He doesn’t let you go for the rest of the night after that, choosing to show off to the rest of the gang members that you two belong together and will always be.
Javier Escuella:
Javier values romance in a relationship.
Maybe nothing incredibly grand - but sweet notes, acts of service, small gifts here and there - he likes to show you how much he loves you through actions more than anything else.
All that and more is shown later on in your relationship. At first, though, Javier is more protective than romantic when it comes to you. It keeps him from showing his emotions at times, and makes him oblivious to your feelings other times.
He just doesn’t know what’s too much because he feels a lot of things, but he wonders if showing all that too soon will scare you away. His feelings are so intense that he gets scared away from you sometimes.
The first time he holds your hand is when you knick yourself while trying to do tricks with one of his knives.
You envy the way he’s able to just do the flips and graceful switches with the blades, and even how he can effortlessly play that five-finger-fillet game.
So, naturally, you try to replicate a trick you’ve seen him do a million times and it ends with a little gash on the heel of your palm.
It’s barely bleeding and looks more like a scrape, but as you hiss in pain Javier has forgotten his chore as he rushes to see what you’ve done to yourself.
He tsks at you and gently wraps his fingers around your wrist to get a better look at the wound.
You’ve forgotten the scrape at this point as his touch is sending jolts of adrenaline through your arm and his face is so close to yours you could count his eyelashes if you wanted to.
He doesn’t notice, too busy looking to see if you’ve mortally wounded yourself. When he’s satisfied that you won’t die, he looks up at your face (Which is dark with a blush and you’re trying to avert your gaze from him, but you just can’t).
He doesn’t understand what’s gotten into you until he sees your joined hands and a knowing grin cracks into his face.
“I’ll kiss it, make it better,” He murmurs and presses a slow, tender kiss to the palm of your hand while gazing up into your eyes the entire time.
He knows what he’s doing.
Charles Smith:
I genuinely feel like Charles is the most well rounded of the group when it comes to his emotions and how he conveys what he’s feeling to you.
Communication king for sure.
The first time Charles holds your hand it’s like he’s always done it.
It’s so natural to him that there really is no concrete first time that changed the meaning of your relationship or created some big deal.
Charles isn’t really someone who likes to show off and isn’t into public displays of affection. Brief hugs and hand holding are the only things he can bring himself to do with you if there are other people present.
He likes to hold your hand a lot despite that. Kissing, groping, or anything even a little heated is a big no for him (in private it is another story), so he likes to have your hands intertwined more often than not.
At first he would come up to you and hold his hand out, palm up, with a quirked brow as if asking you to place your hand in his. You oblige, of course, and he would follow you around camp or vice versa.
Now, Charles doesn’t even bother asking before he comes up to you and just grabs your hand whenever he sees you.
There’s no question about it, the two of you are always connected.
If he can see you he is by your side holding on to you.
It’s not possessive (unlike Dutch cough cough), but it’s more for his own comfort. He likes being near you and he likes that you seem to enjoy being near him.
Charles finds his twin flame in you, his other half. Much more than a soulmate, but his person.
Sean MacGuire:
Sean never really knows where the two of you stand in terms of a relationship.
He flirts with you over and over and over again. You laugh and blush occasionally, but end up telling him to shut up and wandering off.
He knows that he can come off as a sarcastic ass, but he didn’t realize that it’s so intense that you can’t even tell that he’s genuinely trying to get you to notice him as more than a friend/fellow gang member.
The thing is, it is hard for you to tell. Sean isn’t known for being the most serious guy in the world and you’ll be damned if you let him make fun of you by flirting with you and making you swoon or something.
The first time you hold hands with Sean is also consequently the first time you see Sean’s feelings for you are genuine, not some trick.
You turn away from Sean after he’s thrown yet another flirty remark at you, but before you even have the chance to mutter “Shut up, MacGuire” He’s shot out and wrapped his fingers around your own in a strong grip. It doesn’t hurt, but you can’t just pull away and tell him to stop messing around.
You turn back and look down at your conjoined hands.
“Please,” He begs and pulls you an inch closer. “Listen to me.”
You can hardly focus on anything but the warmth of his hand in yours and the way it makes your heart swell and tingle.
He explains his feelings for you, every last one of them. Some were a little more explicit and detailed than you expected, but you appreciated the straight forward honesty.
Let’s just say after that conversation the two of you hold hands and more pretty often in the future.
Sadie Adler:
Sadie and you hold hands all the time. She literally cannot tell how you feel about her.
Is this a friendship? Is it more? She has no idea because you’re so comfortable with her that the line between friends and partners is so blurred Sadie isn’t even sure if there was a line to begin with.
One night, you and Sadie are lying outside the tent that you share stargazing. Sadie is telling you what she knows about the stars and you chime in every now and then with your own little details. She loves the excitement in your voice when you remember the story to a constellation or find one that you hadn’t notice last time.
Your bodies are close, but your hands are closer. Lying in the grass, Sadie can feel the heat from your fingers and hers twitch and beg to touch yours.
She’s nervous, though, to take the relationship further. She doesn’t know if she’s ready to admit what she wants.
While she’s debating if it’s worth it, your pinky finger stretches and curls around her own. She audibly gasps at the action and her head whips over to see if you realize what you’re doing.
You’re already gazing at her with soft eyes and a small smile. It makes her bones turn to jelly at the sight and she tries to speak, but the only thing that escapes her mouth are sharp exhales as her words get tangled in her throat.
She tightens her pinky finger around yours, and you understand the meaning behind it.
It was all still confusing, but Sadie knew one thing: Friends don’t look at each other like that.
<><><><>
I love Sadie so much y'all don't even know
Hope you enjoyed!!
2K notes · View notes
metalhoops · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
‘Of course, I remember you.’ 
As far as first words go, Eddie’s were a hell of a head-scratcher. 
To catch up the uninitiated, everyone in the world has a soulmate. It’s been debated and speculated if a person can have more than one, but the mechanics behind soulmates was a pseudo-science at best and downright magic at worst. The first words a person’s soulmate spoke to them were inscribed somewhere on that person’s body, typically in their soulmate’s handwriting. 
Doesn’t handwriting change over time? The uninitiated might ask, to which Eddie would repeat, it’s pseudo-science or magic. Either that or something like quantum mechanics, where people are pretty sure, one day we’ll understand how it works, but right now there are a lot of theories and only a little bit of evidence, most of which contradicts itself.
Most of the time, the words are boring and wholly unhelpful. He could count on two hands the number of people that simply had some variation of ‘hello’, tattooed somewhere on their body. From Eddie’s point of view, he got lucky. 
He had a sentence of scratchy scrawl written on his inner arm stating, ‘of course, I remember you’. And really, what the hell was Eddie meant to make of that? 
Typically, your tattoo lets you know you’d found your soulmate upon first meeting, but his words implied he’d meet his soulmate before they first speak and that it would be memorable. Wasn’t that goddamn frustrating? 
His soulmate’s first words were right up there with ‘hello’ in Eddie’s list of ‘top five worse soulmate marks,’ because how the hell were those poor bastards meant to know if they’d just met the love of their life or if it was just their weird neighbour Tom? With his number one spot reserved for Gareth’s truly horrific, ‘I’d thought you’d be taller’. His soulmate was original. He’d give him that. 
There was no surefire way to know your soulmate’s gender, same as there was no surefire way for a mother to ‘just know’ a baby’s gender before it was born. Yet if Eddie was being sacrilegious, as he so often was, he’d say he ‘just knew’ his soulmate was a guy. 
There was nothing in the handwriting that gave it away. Nothing particularly ‘feminine’ or ‘masculine’ about the lettering. But ever since Eddie was a kid whenever he thought about his soulmate, he’d always think of them as ‘him’. 
He would like this or that. He wouldn’t be an asshole, like the meathead jocks at Hawkins. He would be different. He’d be kind, caring, and of course, a total badass. Eddie just had to wait to meet him. 
Tumblr media
Steve’s soulmate mark drove him crazy. 
‘You might not remember me’. 
What the hell was Steve meant to do with that? Soulmate tattoos were meant to let you know when you’d met your soulmate, not that you’d already met them. In the days before Steve received the shake-up of his life in the form of Nancy Wheeler and the Upside Down, he had a reputation for sleeping around. He knew back then he’d been a little hopeless, but surely he’d said more than a couple of words to a girl before he slept with them. 
It horrified Steve that he could meet his soulmate, in some respect, know them, and yet had never talked to them. Could he really be that much of a jerk?
He’d never thought Nancy was his soulmate. He knew their words didn’t match up. That didn’t mean he loved her any less. Statistically, the odds of meeting your soulmate were somewhere between getting crushed by a vending machine and winning the lottery. Steve’s parents weren’t soulmates and boy did that show, but a guy could dream. Call him a hopeless romantic, but Steve was holding out hope for them. 
He’d almost thought his soulmate was Robin. It fit, right? They went to the same school, but they’d never really talked. He’d been so busy with his first day at a real job, he’d missed Robin’s first words to him. It wasn’t until later he’d started to expect it might be her. That was, until the pair were huddled beside each other on the floor of a bathroom stall. Robin was a lesbian and her first words, although interesting, definitely proved they weren’t soulmates. 
When Steve was a kid, he’d spend hours daydreaming about what his soulmate would be like. She’d be outspoken. She’d be bold. She’d be able to make him laugh. When he’d gotten older, something changed. He didn’t know how to put it into words, at least not ones he was ready to say out loud. ‘She’ didn’t fit his soulmate quite right. So after high school, he started wondering what ‘they’ would be like. ‘They’ felt not quite right, but closer. 
Their handwriting was distinct. It was all sharp-edges and odd-angles. It looked like it was trying to replicate something Steve couldn’t quite place until he walked into the record store at Starcourt and caught a glimpse of an Iron Maiden album cover. That gave Steve his first real clue as to what his soulmate might be like. 
It would be another year before the same handwriting would stop him in his tracks. Dustin had marched into the Family Video store as they were shutting up shop, brandishing a notepad and talking about needing a ride to go play his fantasy game. Steve was always going to drive Dustin, but he’d been dragging his feet, to show the kid he wouldn’t always drop everything to take him places. A familiar sharp edged, odd angled handwriting stopped Steve cold. 
“What are those?” Steve asked, trying to fain disinterest as his heart pounded in his ears. 
“They’re notes from the last session. You know, so we can keep track of what’s happened so far in the campaign. Who’s doing what quests, how many hit points everyone’s got. Mike is currently—.” Steve couldn’t give a crap about Mike. 
“Who’s writing is it?” Steve tried not to sound as desperate as he felt. 
Robin must have known something was up because she moved to Steve’s side. With one glance at the notepad, she understood why Steve was acting so strangely. She’d seen his tattoo, she knew it was his soulmate’s handwriting. 
“Our D.M.’s” Dustin replied. He might as well have been speaking in freaking code. 
“Alright, I’ll drive you,” Steve gave in, hoping he could catch a glance of his soulmate. Maybe his tattoo was wrong, maybe he’d know his soulmate when he saw them. 
They pulled up outside of the high school. He saw a group of people loitering outside the auditorium. Dustin had brought a lot of loose sheets of paper, so it only made sense Steve helped him carry his notebooks in. Most of the people there were familiar faces, the kids he’d babysat with a few exceptions. 
“Well, if it isn’t our favourite bard. I’m glad you decided to grace us with your presence,” an oh-too-familiar voice crooned. A boy broke away from the crowd to meet Dustin. 
He was Steve’s age. They’d gone to school together. The dude used to do all these weird soap-box sessions on their lunch table. They had gym together, and history. Steve didn’t think the two had ever actually spoken.  
“I would’ve been here quicker if I hadn’t had to play twenty questions with Steve. Steve, you know Eddie, our D.M.? Weren’t you two in the same year?” 
Eddie was practically shooting daggers at Dustin’s side profile, shaking his head discreetly as though hoping Steve didn’t remember who he was. He supposed Eddie always had a reputation. 
“You might not remember me,” Eddie spoke before Steve could answer. 
Holy shit.
“Of course, I remember you,” Steve argued and watched as Eddie’s eyes swelled to the size of dinner plates. 
Both boys stood, slack-jawed and stiff-shouldered, peering at one another. Steve’s brain short-circuited, because holy shit, Eddie Munson was his soulmate. Holy shit he’d found them, him. 
Steve dropped Dustin’s notes and swarmed forward without thinking, throwing his arms around Eddie. Much to his surprise, instead of freaking out, like any normal person, Eddie was waiting to catch him, leaving both of them to tumble ass backwards onto the parking lot asphalt.
They held each other in a bone-crushing hug. Steve buried his face in Eddie’s neck, surprised at how naturally the action came. He’d never hugged a man like this, hell he’d hugged no one like this. He was clinging so desperately to the man that he’d never thought he’d really find. Eddie pulled back slightly, trying to get a better look at Steve’s face. The guy’s eyes were alight with wonder and mischief. 
“That was quite an entrance, Harrington. All for little old me?” 
“I’ve been looking for you forever,” Steve admitted. 
“Well, clearly you’ve been doing a shit job of it,” Eddie argued which earned a snort from Steve. His soulmate would be able to make him laugh. 
“You’re not disappointed, you know? That your soulmate is the town Freak?” 
Steve had given up on caring about labels, on caring about what other people thought. Since high school, he had changed. He was different.  He didn’t want to be just another, shallow, meathead jock. He wanted to be different. 
“No. Absolutely not. Why would I care?” 
Dustin shattered the moment, clearing his throat and proclaiming,
“Alright, anyone care to tell me what the hell just happened?” 
4K notes · View notes
colourstreakgryffin · 2 months
Note
Big bad Overlord Husk does things to me... Can you please do something for him with a reader who combs his hair and makes sure he is presentable by doing things like adjusting his bowtie? (Romantic, please!) Thanks!
Hehe~! Oooh~! I like this idea a lot and it kinda reminds me of that Overlord Husk + Casino-Bae Angel Dust AU thingie! Why not make us the Casino Bae or I’m gonna call the ‘Casinofly’? I also need to start asking for gender, because I always default to female for most of the guys *sigh*
Overlord! Husk- Dolling Up
Tumblr media
How did you manage to land being able to spend so much time with the Gambling Overlord? Not even you know, you’ve just become his personal little casinofly. The pretty face that gets to pamper and doll him up every single day, who may or may not be his current girlfriend
Husk enjoys the feeling of your cute little hands running over his blackish-gray feathery hair, gently combing the smooth semi-hard bristles of a brush over his head. The attention you put into grooming him
Husk knows this routine instinctively. He’ll sit down on his bed and order you to enter his room, waiting for you to brush his hair, style him up, spray him with some cologne, clean him to utter perfection so he’ll glow for his casino. You’re the only one he wants to be his pamperer
Husk can’t help but purr and purr loudly with every kiss and brush you give him. Kissing his ear tips or kissing the smoothly brushed back of his hair. He loves it and he couldn’t imagine anybody else doing this for him. He ends up walking out of the room with you on his arm whilst purring under his breath
“So… is today a Overlord meeting, hey?” You ask smoothly and elegantly in a soft-tone, lips perking out slightly with the nice black lipstick that your not-so-secret boyfriend, Husk, the gambling Overlord of the Pride Ring put on for you. A powerful, influential figure amongst this huge city so you’re pretty surprised he would spare you time and especially allow you to be his little pamperer. The lady that gets to dress him up and make him look presentable for the day
Husk nods slowly and carefully as you brush and style back his hair with a precise scoopful of gentle slick rather expensive hairgel, making sure it stays still, attractive and appealing. Making his quite tall tuft-tipped ears pop out a bit more as you clean off your fresh hair briefly with the nearby makeup wipes laid on the bed besides your makeup bag, before beginning to tie up his business meeting bowtie. It’s a different one than the usual bowtie
“Well yes, love. It’ll be for a hour or two. Now, may I ask you something?” Husk purrs out in his strong, deep and almost hypnotic voice, his hands laid in his lap as his high collared shirt snuggles his hips and his arms well, big feathery red and detailed wings drooped over on the bed comfortably. Sat down on his own grand silky bed in his mighty suite, fitting his appeal and his style very well. You’re the only one allowed into his room, just the pretty casinofly he has his eyes on
“Yes, Sir?” You ask warmly and almost delicately responding to your own boss, the Overlord that has both your soul and your heart in his grasp effortlessly, as your own gentle sparkly eyes focus on readjusting the bowtie around his neck slightly to make sure it’s neat and presentable for this important event. You want Husk to shine out the rest of his fellow Overlords, which is why you’re being precise but you’re always so precise, you always want him to look incredible
Fixing up the collar cuffs of the white dresshirt, you make sure his hands are free and smooth, the fur brushed and clean. All of his fur is brushed and clean, just as you desire. As soon as you’re done, waiting for Husk to speak once again after the few seconds of silence that radiates throughout the magnificent fancy room, the Gambling Overlord finally speaks again. His voice has that certain charm that can always put you in a trance
So effortlessly, you cannot believe just how effortless and impressive this demon is
“I wish for you to accompany me to this meeting. Do not worry about being unable to enter with me, I’ll let you in” Husk saying this so confidently and fearless, he is very certain about what he wants and he doesn’t suspect that you will not say no, but, he is surprised by the way you respond; widened glowing eyes, hands halting at putting on his suit jacket over his shoulders, your lips parting. You look so kissable and he can’t wait to kiss your pretty little face as soon as he can. For now, he’ll stay put and listen out for your own response
Controlling your nerves and your beating heart. The idea of being around so many powerful sinners is intimidating and the idea of Husk wanting to bring you up to the Overlord meeting. It makes your cheeks burn up, you never thought he’d ever want to show people that he’s dating you, outside of the casino and outside of his domain. He must really like you! It almost feels unbelievable…
You quickly shake your head and begin to continue putting on his suit jacket, his three-piece suit for the business. Almost completely ready, Husk is waiting patiently and sitting silent like a curiously watching cat. As soon as your done, attaching a golden suit tassel chain, the Overlord towers over you as you step back and he smoothly picks up your hands, beginning to slide your bicep-length silky sparkly gloves. Finishing up the touches of that pretty classy yet semi-sexy ‘casino bae’-style of yours
Your eyes sparkled a bit more at Husk dressing you back, slowly and strongly turning you around. He offers his arm out and waits for your next action, sharp golden yellow eyes gleaming in your direction, almost sizing you up. He is waiting for you to accept his invitation, he wants you to join him for this meeting and he’d be disappointed if you said no
Your heart dropped a bit at hearing the usual yet soothing vibration, humming through the air, of cat purring. Of Husk purring
“Shall we head out now, sweetheart?”
455 notes · View notes
David Jenkins was not a Big Name Showrunner before OFMD. In fact, I had never heard of him before. I am not even sure what he did before OFMD, according to IMDB he wrote exactly one other show and it is one I have never even heard of before.
And he somehow got HBO to make his weird little show about gay pirates, and he got Taika Waititi to help with it, and while nobody was expecting anything of it - I mean come on guys, remember when OFMD dropped and everyone only gradually realised what it was - it became The Little Show That Could. With almost no advertising. No marketing. HBO did clearly did not expect this show to be anything, to make any real money or to go beyond one season.
But then it blew up.
Because David Jenkins was so insightful, he was so good, he brought so much fresh wind into a business where we usually can tell how the next three steps of how any show is going to go (and to be fair, a lot of us feared that Izzy's death in season 2 was coming, because all the signs fit), that we put him on a pedestal.
THE FUCKING PEDESTAL.
Yes he is brilliant. He has done stuff with OFMD that you never ever see somewhere else. He has understood that historical accuracy, as well as physics and geography, are merely backdrop for plot and characters. Completely irrelevant if you need them to be, but then suddenly important if you have a bit of story that won't work without. He understood that queer relationships deserve to be told, and when confronted with skeptic fans he learned about queerbaiting.
He took a lot of tropes and put them on their head. He structured his show like fanfic. He put thought into his stories instead of following the beaten track. He single-handedly raised the bar for every showrunner out there.
But it is still only his second show.
If he didn't shine so brightly during OFMD's first season, nobody would have expected so much of him.
And yes. He dropped the ball on Izzy.
I loved Izzy to pieces ever since season 1, I wanted to pin him to a board like a bug and study him and take him apart and put him in a blender and in situations, I loved to hate him and in season 2 I loved to love him. He is such a brilliant, complex character, so well written and so well played by Con O'Neill; the options for character analysis, relationship analysis, various interpretations of everything he has done, are simply limitless. 🤯 That is due to David Jenkins & Con O'Neill.
And David Jenkins, standing in the spotlight of all of our exaggerated expectations, decided it would have the greatest emotional impact if he killed him. He made him a symbol, for the end of The Golden Age of Piracy™, and he killed him.
He was right.
He was not original.
He fell for one of the very tropes he so successfully fought in season 1, and for the most part of season 2.
Procuring an emotional response by having a beloved character, who was just starting to embark on an exciting new journey, die tragically and emotionally, providing motivation for the remaining characters.
It was a cheap move.
It is not a Bury Your Gays. Everyone is queer on this show, you can't call something a Bury Your Gays if that would be true for every character death.
But Izzy was also old, and disabled, and he had survived a suicide attempt (that he was driven into, not chose for himself), and had just had an arc of growth and character development that could have gone on for such a long time after this. He had just learned to trust and be vulnerable and experience (gender)queer joy. God, there were so many places his character could have gone.
I loved Izzy as a character, I didn't relate much to him. But Your Mileage May Vary, and I am so, so sorry for everyone who did. You didn't deserve this.
But David Jenkins? Is still sooo much better than any generic bland showrunner that is going places in Hollywood. You want to boycott anything, boycott the big streaming services that don't have the guts to make their main characters queer, to think that "a bit of both" is inclusive or bold, and who drive out any creatives that object and try to sneak in inclusiveness. They are the enemy. They are systemic discrimination and injustice.
David Jenkins is just starting out. And he did so much better on his very first successful show than anyone who has been in the business for years. If anyone deserves a chance to prove that he can do better, it's him.
I'm sure he'll come to regret his decision. I'm sure he'll see where he went wrong, how he could have done better, and fix it in any show he might do after this. I, for one, would much rather see any show he is involved in than most of the crap that the AMPTP is putting out, now or in the future. He can only get better. And he did do a lot of things right. Never forget that. Because the majority of showrunners can't even do the minimum, and David Jenkins went above and beyond.
I think he deserves a little slack. If anyone in the streaming industry does, it's him.
It's the fucking pedestal that is the problem. It makes people who do good but are not perfect suddenly look worse than the most cowardice, opportunistic mediocre guy. But they are not and they deserve a leg up, or we are stuck with the worse option who gets support from all the wrong places. Don't fall for it.
634 notes · View notes
genshin-scenarios · 8 months
Text
perhaps you've heard this before...
Summary: Assigning some trope dynamics/situations to the Fontaine guys! Gender neutral reader as usual.
Characters: Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Lyney
Tumblr media
Back in a time when Neuvillette was still in his draconic form, you were a healer living in the outskirts who came across a mysterious creature that seemed to have an injury on its leg.
Suffice to say, Neuvillette was not open to a random stranger approaching him at the time, eyeing you warily as you did what you could to wrap up the wound. A glance was shared at the awkward bandaging, having used all your gauze because of his sheer size, before you sighed and backed away, giving Neuvillette a look that said “Don't run away, I’ll be back.”
And back you were, with proper medicine and an odd concoction that soothed pain. When you were satisfied you gave him a pat on his other leg and told him it should heal up soon. He didn’t place much expectations on the works of a human healer, but surprisingly enough it did recover sooner than he expected. Perhaps it was because it wasn’t a serious injury, but you seemed to be quite happy about it anyways.
From there started an odd friendship between Neuvillette and you, like passing neighbors that would sometimes share stories (you sharing the story, him wondering why you chose to speak to him instead of another human). 
Who would’ve thought then that many years later, you’d be reincarnated as a citizen in the current Fontaine, and cross paths with Neuvillette again?
What first started as a sense of familiarity soon turned into recognition, when Neuvillette saw you speaking to some of the local children playing at the fountain. The way the sunlight seems to derive its glow from you… it’s quite hard to forget.
This time however you were a little intimidated by the Chief Justice speaking to you, even if he’d just found an excuse to do so after scaring off some thugs that attempted to take your wallet. Though Neuvillette did have to admit - it was quite amusing to see you more nervous about his presence than the thugs. It was a far cry from your meeting those centuries ago, even if he was the only one to remember it.
After you warmed up to him though, you were comfortable enough to act like you usually did. Once you asked Neuvillette to guess what you changed about your appearance, only to reveal that you’d worn a ribbon to match his, but on your wrist - inside of your sleeve.
At his note that he’d only see it if he invaded your space, you boldly replied that perhaps that’s what you were trying to get him to do. In that moment, the afternoon had suddenly turned very bright, as if the clouds just suddenly evaporated from the sky.
Is this what happens when the Hydro Dragon gets flustered? You’re none-the-wiser, save for the way Neuvillette is pointedly trying to avoid your gaze.
Tumblr media
You’re a reformed thief who now works under Wriothesley as part of your sentence (that is to say, you’re his all-purpose errand runner who already had a hand in things related to… the illegal sides of Fontaine, so this was a matter of resourcefulness on the court’s part.)
Though more often than not, Wriothesley says that you really don’t act the part of a criminal serving their time. Whenever you’re introduced to a newbie, you have fun saying you’re a detective, or assistant jailer, or some other job that doesn’t exist. 
For all your evasive ways however, there was something about Wriothesley’s presence that seemed to ground you a little. Maybe it’s the way he manages to see through your lies, or the way he treats you the same no matter what atrocious things leave your mouth.
…Maybe it’s because you lack genuine malice. Maybe it’s because having grown up in a world where you didn’t fit in with the normal folk, nor the criminals, you found a bit of solace having a place to return to at the end of the day to Wriothesley and Waghild at headquarters.
…Not that you’ll ever say that outright. You’d rather retell the story of how you and Wriothesley met than confess something so vulnerable. (Read: you were trying to steal something from him, and he’d caught you by the wrist, immediately cornering you against the wall next to him. Suffice to say your heart nearly jumped out of your chest in more ways than one.)
Tumblr media
‘You meet a charming stranger on the streets of Fontaine’, is how this retelling might go. But the first meeting in your eyes was simply a reunion in Lyney’s, who is the only one between you that remembers your encounter when you were still children, and you’d told him a story about a magician who could make flowers bloom from their fingertips, saying it was nothing short of a miracle.
Suffice to say, you were more than caught off-guard when Lyney asked you for your help during a street performance in the present time, and slipped a note into your pocket which told you to ‘follow the map’.
You recognised the Opera Epiclese as the X marked on the paper. As soon as you arrived, the map in your hands started to glow - seeming to take on a life of its own as it darted out of your hands and flew through the gap between the door, leaving you bewildered but intrigued as you followed its lead.
Through the entrance and the second pair of doors, the sound of Lyney’s voice echoed through the room. Was he rehearsing for a show?
The moment you opened the door to peek in however, you were immediately proven wrong by the seats that were occupied - VIP guests with a private show from Lyney and Lynette, with you somehow privy to it, grandiose lights, music and all.
The thing is, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave. Out of the corner of your eye the sentient map settles upon an empty seat at the back row before losing its magic, which held no other occupants (most of them populated the rows closer to the stage, private party and all).
From your peaceful place at the top, you sit quietly in awe at the impossible acts onstage. Flying birds, disappearing people, and the classic sawing-in-half trick that had the entire theater in stitches - it was safe to say that the twins commanded one's attention like no other.
As he closed up the show however, Lyney glanced up towards the rows where you sat, hidden away from the general view. Pleasantly surprised that his secret audience did in fact come to watch him, he wears a secretive smile as he bids the crowd farewell, making his leave.
The next minute, a breathless Lyney’s rushed to find you before you could leave. While the guests downstairs have just ended their time with the great magician, it seems that your evening with him has just begun.
640 notes · View notes
railingsofsorrow · 3 months
Note
hiiiiii!!!! i saw your requests were open and i’m so excited i love your writing so much!! i was wondering if you would be willing to do a coffee shop au of spencer x barista!reader? i feel like it would be very fluffy :) <3
a healthy caffeine addiction
[spencer reid x reader]
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: spencer finds a new coffee shop near work and he may be going there not just for the coffee...
pairing: s.reid x gn!barista!reader
w.c: 3K
warnings/content: a lot of flirting; mentions of case related stuff but you blink and you miss it; fluff fluff!! (you asked for it); swearing.
A/N: hi! I used gender neutral pronouns because you didn't specify so I thought it would fit best. the coffee shop is called “enchanted brewing” just do you don't get confused. one more thing! I mixed two of his best eras, glasses + long hair just because I was feeling a little silly. thank you for the request <3
navi
masterpost
cm masterlist
[requested] ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
“Oh, look, it's boy genius again.” You muse upon seeing a certain long-haired FBI agent next on the line. He's wearing a purple tie today which checks out your theory that it's his favorite color because he's always wearing something purple. It would be funny if it was an unconscious choice. “What's your order today, Dr. Reid? Maybe some coffee with your sugar?” You ask as if you hadn't seen him earlier in the day and had repeated the same thing.
You've met Spencer Reid when he walked in one day as the coffee shop you work in was still closed. He hadn't seen the closed sign. After spending five minutes straight apologizing, you delivered him his coffee order promising he wasn't bothering you. Especially if he was a cute guy with glasses. But you didn't say that last thing out loud, of course.
He's been coming to Enchanted Brewing for two weeks now. You have his order memorized from each early morning that he strides in through the entrance, his satchel hanging from his right shoulder as his bright honey-brown eyes scan through the menu on the wall. He always did that in spite of ordering the same thing from the first day.
Your timeline is slightly offbeat today. Your favorite costumer usually comes in on his way to work, once a day. Except that today he showed up twice. You're not complaining, you're currently trying to hide how happy you are that he appeared right on time for your lunch break.
“I want something different,” he says, adjusting his glasses as he looks at you with a timid smile. “Surprise me?”
“Oh.” You quickly recovered — did you? — from the spell he had you in and moved to prepare his drink. “I'll definitely surprise you, boy genius.” You already had one in mind. Your boss shots you a glare from the other side of the counter where he's delivering an order for a regular. He had reminded you of your lunch break an hour ago but you ended up attending clients and time passed by. You mouthed that it was your last one before lunch and he rolled his eyes with a knowing smile.
You take Spencer to a table outside. The day was good enough to not worry about a storm interrupting your afternoon coffee. Not yet, at least.
“So.” You utter after taking a bite of your sandwich. Spencer is sipping on the surprise he asked for and you are no profiler but your guess is that he liked it. “Aproved?”
“One hundred percent approved. What is this?” He makes a sound of satisfaction as he drinks it again. A smug grin reaches your face. “It's so good.”
You hum, “It is. From how much you like your sweets, I thought you'd like this one. Though, it barely tastes like coffee.”
Spencer silently agrees with you. “What's it called? I can taste caramel.”
“It's a caramel macchiato,” you reply, sipping your watermelon juice. “Caramel is all you can taste, boy genius.” You laugh at the way his cheeks turn pink at your nickname. Ever since he told you about his PhD's and his age. “To what do I own the pleasure of seeing you twice in a day?”
He takes his time putting the cup on the table, fingertips grazing the sides in half circles. When he meet your gaze, you were already staring, but you have the decency to look away, feeling your cheeks heat up. Thank god you were done eating or else you'd be blushing and attempting to swallow your food. Not a good view.
“Um, I... I didn't have a case today and I finished paperwork early so I thought I'd come, um.” He stammers, straightening his posture and exhaling. The middle of his forehead creased a bit and you find it incredibly endearing seeing him trying to figure out the words.
“...you were craving caffeine so you came to the best place near your work?” you complete his sentence with a playfully smirk dancing across your lips.
“Yes!” Spencer exclaims, clearing his throat realising his voice had failed. He offers you a sheepish smile, to which you respond with a grin of your own. “Yes, and... well.”
“It's okay,” you tap your fingers against the hard wood. “You can admit that I make the best coffee.” The convinced stance you had made him chuckle, eyes traveling over your frame discreetly. He could only hope he was being discreet.
“I wanted to see you.” He admits. “And for the coffee, of course.”
Sometimes you had the impression that he did know the effect he had on you, either that or he just didn't want to see it.
“Of course.” You nod as if it was obvious. “Sure.” He wanted to see me? Me?
He pulls his glasses up again, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear. He was about to say something when he jumped on his seat, groaning as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.
“I have to go,” he says, disappointment lacing through his tone. You brush off his apologetic expression.
“That's completely understandable. Duty calls.” Both of you stand up. You still had half an hour left of your lunch, you guess you would have to resort to play your mobile game instead of flirting with a handsome FBI agent. “I'll see you tomorrow?”
“Hopefully,” Spencer picks up his work bag and the coffee cup you thought he had already finished. The corners of his lips raise a bit when he catches the boy genius written in a messy handwriting on the cup. “It's not a local case...”
“Oh,” you try to hide your lack of joy. “Alright. Be careful then.” Spencer nods, giving you a tight-lipped smile. “And don't betray me for another barista, boy genius.” That got you one of his short laughs that made his eyes crinkle in the edges.
“Never.”
──────────────
Spencer was back three days later. The case was a hard one, one of those were the unsub decided to not make their lives easier and kept moving across state lines to hide. He was keeping a victim hostage in the trunk of his car and thankfully, they were able to save her in time. Everybody was granted a day-off to get some rest.
It's not like Spencer was married to his work, in fact, he could enjoy a little alone time in the comfort of his home with a book and some coffee to accompany his quiet reading.
But that's the problem.
Routines are hard to create and they are hard to let go of. Ever heard the saying “old habits die hard”?
Ivan Pavlov researched about classical conditioning. According to him, you have a stimulus and a response in a given situation. It is likely that you'll keep repeating an action if it proves to be beneficial to you. If you like doing it, you'll barely notice it became an habit.
He's been visiting your coffee shop almost every day for the past weeks and that is an habit he's gotten quite comfortable with.
Therefore, in order to not disturb his routine that is very very important to him — honestly? Spencer can't handle changes — he drives down to Enchanted Brewing. The soft jingle of the bell alerted of his entrance.
Spencer gets in line. There's seven people in front of him, maybe because it's lunch hour and all of them are rushing to get their orders. Spencer waits. He still hasn't heard any flirting remarks or winks sent his way and he's not sure if you are not behind the counter today or if his lenses are just really blurried that he can't see your pretty face.
“Afternoon, sir. What would you like to order today?”
You are definitely not behind the counter and he's slightly confused before listing off his order. The clerk notes it down, then he stops midway, studying Spencer with narrowed eyes.
“You're boy genius?”
Spencer blinks, startled. He opens and closes his mouth like a fish and really, what is that question? How is he even supposed to answer that? You call him that, so is that a yes? Is he supposed to say yes—
“Sorry,” the guy says, shaking his head with a laugh, “they told me about you.”
“Oh.” Spencer doesn't know what to say, thankfully, he doesn't have to because he carries on.
“You two have kind of a system going on, right?”
“A- a system?”
The clerk's polite smile widened into a smirk. “Well, yes.” He says slowly. “You order the same thing and they make you an entire difference drink, isn't that it? They explained it and that's how I got it.”
“Uh, yes. I think so. But you don't have to—”
Your coworker waves him off, “I was just making sure you were the guy, really. They left a special order for you in case you appeared while they were still sick.” Spencer's concern is visible through his face. “Sore throat, I asked them to stay at home this week. You know, they don't care about day-offs so I forced it upon them to have it either way since they're sick. Really stubborn, that one. I'm Tim, by the way."
“Spencer.” He gave a little wave while introducing himself and was quick to add. “Are they okay?”
Tim turned to look at him in the middle of the beverage making. He nodded. “Yes, they'll be back in a day or two. Nothing serious.”
Spencer lets out a sigh in relief, leaning against the counter to wait for this order to be ready. He hopes you get better soon and that you were taking proper care of yourself. If he knew, he would have brought some jell-o and mint tea, they are great remedies to soothe a sore throat. After he paid for his surprise drink, he sat down on a table outside, there wasn't a lot of people and he enjoyed his alone time while mindlessly scrolling through his phone.
Maybe if he had gotten your number, he could ask how you were. But he didn't because Spencer doesn't think. He doesn't have game as Derek says, whatever that means. It's not his fault that he can't think straight around pretty people, is it? He can't help it!
He left the café that day with another great drink to add to his list and his mind set on one thing: he's going to ask for your phone number next time he sees you.
──────────────
Every person in the whole freaking world decided to appear at Enchanted Brewing today. Nothing wrong with people. You love people, really!
But your back is aching and your hand is cramping from how much you used the hand mixer. God, you needed to lay down for a month and wake up maybe never.
A costumer just left and you finally turn the sign to closed. Thank god. You're finishing cleaning up the tables when you notice the silence. Being around people all day long can be a little exhausting, especially if you have to yell a name in order for someone to pick their order. Your recently recovered sore throat does not appreciate that.
You're alone tonight. Tim left early to run some errands and you're in charge of closing. You don't mind, it's actually peaceful to close the shop and make your way home. You don't live far and the streets aren't too busy nor totally empty.
Boy genius didn't show up again.
You know his job is demanding, he's occupied being a hero and using his brain to solve difficult cases and catch bad guys. You feel bad complaining about your work, knowing what he does. He must get exhausted daily.
You miss him. And it's weird, you're not one to get attached easily. To be able to call Tim your friend took about half a year, you just don't trust people fast. Spencer just feels different. He makes you feel comfortable, despite not having the experience of hanging out with him outside of your work, he's that kind of person that has a safe ambience all over him. You could be wrong, you're aware of that, you don't really know the guy. He's a regular, he loves your surprise coffees, he's got a cute smile and an awkwardness that is endearing. You don't know more than that, but you'd really like to.
After placing your uniform in your assigned locker, you check one more time to see if everything is in place before leaving.
The doorbell scares the shit out of you and you grab the first thing you see to defend yourself, which is your phone.
It's closed. You turned the sign. The lights are off. Who the fuck is entering a coffee shop when all of the lights are off?!
“Uh, what... Why are you threatening to throw your phone at me?”
And there it is, the man you cannot stop thinking about materialising in front of you. Not a burglar.
Your shoulders slump in relief and you lower your phone back to the counter. “Fuck, genius. Don't do that. Why do you always ignore the closed sign?”
“Sorry,” he responded, bashfully, realising how the situation came out. “I saw you were inside and I just came in, didn't thought it through.”
“Mm. You scared the shit out of me.” A soft smile formed on your lips and it soon became a wide grin. “God, you're so...”
“Annoying?” he offers, grimacing as he buries his hand on his overcoat. Both his cheeks and the tip of his nose are pink, reminding you of how cold it is outside. “Sorry, I'll just— I'll leave you be.” The regret on his features is what puts you out of your dazed stare.
You sprint over to the door, blocking his exit. “I didn't say that.” You let out with bated breath. He halts right in front of you, big doe eyes staring down at you in surprise and you're beaming at him again. “You could never be annoying, boy genius. I was about to say amazing, actually.”
Morgan and Penelope are two people that keep making his life miserable by the amount of nicknames they make up for him. But this one? This one he doesn't complain at all. Boy genius. You could call him that every day and he would never dare be annoyed by it. The reason is because he loves your voice — which he realised it's a bit hoarse right now — but that's besides the point.
That is a nickname he missed dearly.
Were they about to call me amazing?
“I have a confession to make.” Emily is one hundred percent right when she said his IQ is slashed to 60 while around pretty people, because now that he's seen you he can't seem to remember what he came here for. “I betrayed you.”
You raise a brow, surveying him with amusement. “Oh?”
“Yes. I, I ordered a caramel macchiato on a cafeteria in Fairbanks.” He elaborated, lifting his hand to brush his hair behind his ear. You wanted to find out if it was as soft as it looked. “It wasn't good. I don't know, it wasn't the way you made so I didn't— I didn't though it was good.”
Your chest swells for a reason you're not sure.
“What I'm trying to say is that... Your coffee is better. No. It's not actually that—”
“Breathe. You're turning red like a tomato.”
That made him impossibly redder. He pushed his glasses up his nose, swallowing hard.
“Spencer,” you say, dropping your flirty facade in fear of him combusting in front of you. You nudge your finger against his hand, timidly. “I won't bite. You can talk to me.”
“Okay.” He croaks out, playing with your fingertips. And without looking directly at you, he lets out a sigh to muster some courage and says, “I like you.” He manages to say, pretending as if the way you said his name didn't affect him that much. You're smiling at him and suddenly he's fourteen again with butterflies in his stomach because his first crush just greeted him in class.
“I like you too,” you confess in a whisper. You're too close yet so far.
Spencer shakes his head, lifting his gaze to yours since he was staring at your hands. “Not like that. Not in a I like-your-coffee-and-your-flirting kind of way.”
You fear you're misunderstanding him and you don't want to make a fool out of yourself, so you remain quiet, getting lost in the twinkle in his brown eyes provided by the street lamp outside.
“I like you in a... I-want-to-spend-more-time-with-you way.” Finally, he says it. Could he have explained it better? Yes. Is he able to do it? Not with you looking at him like that. “I-Mm, I mean, I love your company and spending time here but I would like to take you on a date.” You were supposed to ask for her number first! What are you doing, you idiot?! “If you want to, of course.”
You can't hold back the giant grin taking over your features. “Boy genius,” you drawl out, doing what you've been fantasizing from the first moment you've seen him: touch his hair. You pull a stubborn strand behind his ear and from the way he almost flutters his eyes shut and leans into your touch, you assume he likes it. “When I said that I liked you, I didn't mean as a favourite-cute-costumer-of-the-month kind of way. But in an I-think-he's-cute way.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” You laugh. “Spencer, I would love to go on a date with you. Preferably, somewhere where we don't drink coffee.”
The crinkles around his eyes show up as he chuckles, nodding. “Okay, yeah, we can definitely do that.”
“Cool.” And you can't stop smiling like an idiot.
Spencer not only got the number but a date with the cute barista. He'd say that's very cool.
212 notes · View notes
pakunod-a · 2 months
Text
Silly Prom Night
Tumblr media
Prompt: It's prom night! What do these men do in the ballroom? 🤨
Pairing: Overblot boys x Reader
Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil (I) [here]
Vil, Idia, Malleus (II) [here]
Tumblr media
CW: Random stuff, not really fanfiction-ish, more like drabbles, some shorter than others lolololololololololol Reader is referred to as You and Yuu. Reader is described to wear a gown, other than that it's gender-neutral if you don't mind the fabric gap. Bad English because I'm not a native English speaker :( not proof-read, random as FUCK and characters might seem very ooc if they do I blame my not-so-American education
Tumblr media
Notes: entire work is based off of stuff that happened to me last night at prom, and i was thinking about various characters that would probably fit the profile of all the mishaps that happened to me last night lolololol
Work under the cut :)
Tumblr media
Riddle Rosehearts !
You were sitting at your table, waiting for the buffet service to end so you could take the dance floor.
Well, it's not like anyone's dancing with you.
To be fair, you were supposed to be partnered with a first-year, who got sick the night before, so he couldn't make it. Poor lad.
It was horribly long, it felt like a very, very long time.
It took around thirty minutes for the dance to start, and everybody's got a partner.
All, except for you.
What a bummer.
Wait, is that the housewarden of Heartslabyul, in the corner, without anyone asking him to dance?!
Let's go fix that. 🏃
You ask him if he wants to dance, and he simply says;
"No."
"Come on, it's a ball, you're supposed to dance. You're getting there whether you like it or not. This long ass dress won't stop me from dragging you on the dance floor."
You ended up having a half-hearted Riddle dance with you.
Honestly, the way he held you felt like he wasn't interested at all, let alone happy. It felt like he was disgusted by your presence.
Every time you'd look at him, he would have an unpleasant look on his face, and aim his gaze elsewhere.
After the dance is over, and everyone returns to their seats, and you get a notification from your phone on Magicam. It was Cater, tagging you in a post.
"So cute! I'm vouching for RiddeYuu next year. #RiddeYuu #YuuRid"
..huh. Attached to the post was a video, and a bunch of hashtags you swear you didn't care about. You clicked the video, thinking that it was some kind of impractical prank being played on you.
Oh boy.
Boy, were you wrong.
In the video, it was you and Riddle dancing together on the dance floor. Riddle was a mess, blushing and shying away from all the lights. He had a small smile, as he evaded your gaze whenever you looked at him. He seemed genuinely happy to dance with you.
Maybe he wasn't disgusted after all.
Maybe he really did love dancing with you.
Tumblr media
Leona Kingscholar !
You couldn't count the number of times this guy stepped on the hem of your train.
It's like your hair being pulled out of your skull, except it's your entire body being pulled back like a slingshot.
It wasn't the most fun experience.
Then, you had to pick a partner to dance with for the nth time this evening.
Your feet hurt already, how much more dancing?
Surprisingly, even though you had little to no interest in dancing, a certain sleepy lion approaches you with a scowl on his face.
"C'mon herbivore, chop chop. Vargas says I gotta dance for extra credit. You look like you could use it too."
This feels and sounds condescending.
He's pretty nice to dance with, doesn't step on the hem of your train anymore, nor does he step on your feet.
On the contrary, he scoops up the longer part of your train whenever you'd have a hard time walking somewhere.
Other times, he straight up carries you like you're a cat.
It's funny, really.
There was this one instance where you mentioned you wanted ice cream.
He set you down on his chair near his party's table, and disappeared. He actually came back with half-eaten ice cream
You love your sleepy lion, even if he seems a little TOO catty at times. :)
You eventually got too tired to dance, and just sat down. Leona napped on your shoulder.
How sickeningly cute.
Tumblr media
Azul Ashengrotto !
Where there is bank to be made, Azul Ashengrotto's the merchant's name.
Seriously, this guy's part of the catering group for the buffet.
Bro did NOT stop making deals at a school function. The grind never stops, respect for that.
You'll probably end up selling your kidney and a lung if you stayed there any longer.
Buuuuut, he does need a dancing partner.
So what say you, if he offered you a slice of mango graham cake and a cup of coconut jelly with a side of gelato in exchange for a dance?
Hell yeah. sorry to the readers that dont have a sweet tooth, have some roasted garlic and onions.
He wasn't too bad honestly, never stepped on your feet once.
You do remember having two gold bracelets on your hands.
He admired one for a quick moment, and it seemed to disappear.
Now, he wouldn't go around stealing stuff from anybody.
No no.
He found it on the floor, while you were too busy dancing.
You want it back?
"Three more dances. Then I'll give you your bracelet back. After all, what's a precious bracelet in exchange for a few dances, no?~"
"You're wasting my time, screw you."
You ended up dancing with him, ten times.
Not thrice.
Ten.
Bro just exploited the jewelry glitch, and wore you out all night.
"Oh, poor Yuu, however will you get back home? If you promise to help out at Mostro Lounge, I'll have you home in a jiffy—"
Thud.
You fell on the ground, snoring.
Oh. You're asleep now. That's convenient.
Don't worry, he'll carry you back home to Ramshackle, free of charge.
After all, dancing with him all night must've tired you out.
He'll just repay the favor.
Surely, that would be the more gentlemanly thing to do.
Tumblr media
Jamil Viper !
Would you believe me if I said this guy was in the corner, squinting his eyes as he looked for someone?
Oh. Dude must be looking for Kalim. Fortunately for him, he's over by the second-year's table, away from him.
Hold on.
Away from him???
But the Octotrio sits at that very table.
The Leech twins and Azul Ashengrotto himself?!
Hell no!
Jamil sprints half a mile across the ballroom in an attempt to sweep Kalim away.
"You shouldn't be sitting with them. They're not exactly the type of people you should be socializing for this type of event."
Not even a few seconds later, Kalim trips on a giant camera stand.
He face-planted into the ground, his nose bleeding from hitting the ground too hard. He still has that stupidly goofy smile on his face.
It honestly gives you cuteness aggression.
He had to be brought to the infirmary.
Poor Jamil, he really doesn't get a break.
It's not until he gets dragged to the dance floor, does he leave Kalim's side.
Let me tell you, once this guy relaxes, DAMN can he dance.
He could be blindfolded and spun around five times, and he'd STILL have the balance and elegance of a ballerina.
Work it girl, show those students who's boss.
Tumblr media
note: "which events were these inspired from?" oh wow i thought youd never ask let me give you a tour of my brain juice i used to write this real quick and indulge myself in an immersive storytelling 🤜💥🧱
For Riddle: when i got called up for my award, there was a boy who also won the same award in the male category. we were instructed to dance together, for the Royalty dance. i thought he was disgusted because i was holding him, so i felt uncomfortable dancing with him. in a video posted by my schoolmate, they tagged me in a video of him looking at the camera and smiling as he waved. he looked half pale and half pink.
For Leona: while dancing for the "waltz" part of the prom, i felt hungry and told my dancing partner i was hungry, but they wouldnt let me back into the buffet because my dress almost took up the entire line for the buffet, so i either had to ask someone to get it for me or have my homeroom teacher get it for me. he eventually sat me on a chair, and ran back with ice cream from the dessert bar. he did eat the whipped cream and cherries, so i made him go back and get another.
For Azul: this one student was working behind the counter at the buffet, and he was jokingly stealing his dance partner's earrings, necklace, and bracelets while she wasnt looking. he said it costs three waltzes for a singular piece of jewelry to be reclaimed, but if she danced to a budots remix, she'd get everything back. she waltzed for more than seven times until she collapsed onto a couch and snored for an hour straight. she did get her jewelry back, and she resumed dancing with our Azul-like classmate.
For Jamil: i saw someone slip and their friend was scolding them for not being careful. he sat down at the table full of people who dont like him, and he got an earful from his friend on why he shouldnt sit there. his friend reminded me of Jamil so much, i had to write him like that.
198 notes · View notes
sehtoast · 4 months
Text
Gentle Giant (Homelander x Reader)
Tumblr media
1k | g/t, fluff, hurt/comfort, gender neutral reader | Fic Directory
For @homelanderbutbig bc they spoil us with their 8ft tall cinnamon roll. highly recommend them if you enjoy big homelander!
Tumblr media
As a man already larger than life, one would think Homelander would adjust well to suddenly being that way in the literal sense. One blast of energy from a rogue supe suddenly had him standing eight feet tall and finding that the world, which was already unequipped to handle him before, was far too small to accommodate him now. At least his suit had also grown in the blast. 
He had hoped it would be temporary. Maybe he would shrink up, finally fit between doorways again. Be able to lay on the couch or in bed without half his body dangling over, but such was not the case. After a full month went by, he gave up hope. 
He was just going to have to be big now. 
That didn't stop him from still getting down on himself. If people looked at him as a horror before, they did so even more now that he was gargantuan. The once metaphorical ants to him were now literal. 
But it got to him. 
Day in and out, seeing those fearful expressions… all the judgment. It ate at him. Standing before his now ten foot tall mirror, he would unleash a tirade of self deprecating thoughts and insults. His hands were too big to hold, lips too big to kiss, body too big for even a fucking hug. 
His dreams of a house with a white picket fence and a happy, normal life were dashed entirely. He would never be normal. Not only was he always going to be Vought's plaything, but he was cursed to forever be a fucking circus act giant. 
What more could life take from him? Must he always be robbed of peace? 
The answer was yes. That is, until you came along. 
A new hire.  His new assistant. 
Your job was to do what he no longer could. Anything too small for his massive hands was your responsibility on top of a normal assistant's duties. Schedule his meetings, coordinate his day, get him whatever he wants. You made the world as normal as possible for him.
It didn’t take long at all for him to get attached.
Your comparatively short stature became endearing to him beyond words.  The way you’d trail after him, help him, stick up for him… He adored you.  You were the first of his assistants to not bail in the first month, and the fact you stuck around for even longer left him nothing short of amazed.
He really wishes you wouldn’t have just barged in.  But why wouldn’t you?  You knew you were safe with him.  You knew you were allowed unlimited access to his space.  Other than just flat out kissing you, he’s practically already professed his love with how much leniency he’s given you with what’s his.
“Are you okay?”
His head practically whips over to the side.  He never heard you enter, never saw you in the reflection.  How much had you heard?  God, what you must think…
“Homelander..?”
He stands there stunned and still.  He was supposed to be your gentle giant. He wanted you to think he was nice, he was sweet, he was good, he was–
“Hey,” you coo, approaching him.  You take one of his big, gloved hands in yours and look up at him so sweetly.  “C’mon, big guy.”  You say, gently tugging him toward the oversized couch. 
He follows without an ounce of resistance, a little enchanted at how big guy sounds so much better when you say it.  It doesn’t stink of the same disapproval when the others call him that.  
When he sits beside you, he’s unsure of what to do next.  When he was smaller– normal– he would lay his head in Madelyn’s lap.  He wishes he could do that with you.  How your hands might feel running through his undercut, the sight of your smile, the twinkle in your eyes… He wishes he could find it in himself to just take what he wants.  But not with you.
He wants you to want it just as much as he does.
You’re so sweet as you coax his worries from him.  His confession starts as a mumble, eyes cast to the floor lest he see a hint of amusement at his suffering.  He knows you never would, but there’s still a part of him that fears that same old thing that always happens.  He’s baited with affection, hooked, then cast out when he’s either too much or they get bored.
“You’re not too big,” you tell him.  “But I understand.”  
Your hand pats his and he grasps it without a second thought.  It looks so small compared to his and he finds that he likes that.  In one hand, he has the power to shield you from the world.  He could wrap you in an embrace and protect you from anything.
Whatever words he thinks he could say are stuck in his throat, lips parted to release what won’t come out.  Instead, he reaches over and lifts you effortlessly, resting you in his lap.  He hugs you as gently as physically possible.  He’s terrified of hurting you, especially now that he’s so big.  One hand at your waist, the other splaying against the back of your head.
Your arms wrap gingerly around him– well, as much as they can given his stature.  But you do something else that strikes his heart and brings tears to his eyes.  You mimic his hold.
Your hand wanders into the taper of his undercut and you let your fingers dance in the softness.  
“See?”  You ask.  “Not too big.  I can hug you just fine.” You squeeze a little tighter for emphasis.  “Not scary, either.”
He huffs a soft chuckle against your shoulder at that.  At least someone didn’t think so.  Probably the most important person.
He held you like that for some time.  He didn’t want to let go and you never moved away.  Your fingers continued dancing at the nape of his neck, moving up to thread through his undercut with a tenderness he swears he’s never felt before.  You make him feel normal.  You make him feel good.  Peaceful, even.
Your smiles and contented breaths tell him that he does the same for you.  When you eventually doze off, his heart clenches with something so warm and pure that he swears he could cry.  He’d never admit that a few tears did find their way out.  Well, maybe he’d admit it to you.
After all, you make his heart sing.
225 notes · View notes
callofdudes · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
Happy National Women's Day (yesterday, woops) Celebrated with a platonic story for y/n, Laswell, and Farah.
Readers gender is not specified. This isn't beta read because my eyes really hurt today for some reason.
You had just gotten back from a mission followed by Farah's forces and accompanying assistance of one Alex Keller. After getting back the guys were pretty tuckered out. Price and Simon going for a smoke and Johnny going for a long snooze in his bed. Missions usually left you exhausted.
However, this was the week that Laswell got a much needed break from her work and she wanted to spend it well.
She was sat on the couch, watching you and Simon quietly talk. Farah was cleaning her goggles, frowning over a small scratch in the top corner of the lense.
She could see the stress on Farah's face, and just from your posture she knew you needed a break as well. So when Simon got up to use the bathroom she leaned forward.
"What do you two say we get out of here for a couple days?"
You looked up curiously. "What do you mean?? Get a hotel or something?"
She shook her head. "Camping. My brother has a cabin up in the mountains where his buddies and him go climbing. We could go spend some time out there."
"Would it be quiet?" Farah asks.
"Most likely, it's not a big place. The spot we usually go isn't touristy either."
Farah looks to you. "I've never been camping outside of missions."
"If we can get a place with room for three and not get eaten alive by mosquitoes and the like, then yeah."
Laswell nods. "It's a cabin, so I don't think you'll have to worry too much about mosquitoes. But it'll just be the three of us." Laswell stands, stretching and grabbing her coffee. "We'll head out tomorrow after you're packed."
So the next morning you and Farah brought out your backpacks to Laswell's car. She only had a small vehicle but it was enough to fit all your supplies. Laswell brought her climbing gear, and enough food to last you a week at the cabin.
Once you were all ready to go there was one person you had to say goodbye to.
"Simon it's ok, I'm not going to be gone that long, only a week."
"A week... What am I supposed to do until then??"
"Hangout with the guys, take some time off to relax your feet. Read your book. You'll be ok."
Simon grumbled and looked over at Alex who was staying with them. To Simon's dismay.
You smiled softly, and fixed his sweater hoodie. "Only a week." You wrap your arms around him and he hugged you back, squeezing you for good measure.
Soon enough you packed in and set off on your journey. Farah plugged her phone in and played music from the passenger seat. "Any song requests??"
"Remember that one song you played the other day? With the guitar solo?"
Farah smiled and put the song on, and you jammed away in the backseat. Laswell put her son blocker down and set you off to the nearest coffee shop. Because what's a road trip without coffee?
She took the tray from the man at the drive through window and handed Farah her iced coffee and you your drink. “There you go.”
“Thank you mom.” You smiled and leaned back.
“Of course. Now, it’ll be a bit of a drive.” But you guys were ready for that.
You drove for the rest of the day. As you got closer to the mountains, Farah and you both pointed out a fair bit of wildlife you saw along the roadside.
Farah’s entire day was made by seeing baby ducklings going for a dunk in a small pond with their mom.
Laswell pointed out a few deer on the way, and soon you reached the place. Driving up the road and parking in front of a rather nice little cabin. It was old, with a couple swinging shutters and the frame would need some repainting.
“This is nice.” Farah looked around the grassy area behind the cabin that led up into a large hill. A small fire pit set up around some trees and a stone pathway up to the stairs.
“How did you get this place again??”
“My brother rents it most of the summer for his rock climbing. They come every few weeks.”
“Cool.”
Laswell nods, opening the car door and putting her park pass in the window. She tossed you the keys. “I'll go tell administration we’re here so they don't freak out. You two and get the first pickings.”
You and Farah smiled at each other softly. “Thanks laswell!” You called and grabbed out your stuff. You unlocked the house and you two headed inside. In the small entry way was a couple buckets full of wood and a shelf of paper and some lighters.
A tiny kitchen area and a gas stove. It was a cozy little place. Heading into the next part of the cabin there was a small bench, a cabinet with some games and a bed tucked against the opposite wall.
The back bedroom was separated by a curtain, inside being another two beds.
You and Farah looked at each other. “you can have either, I don't mind.” She said softly.
You were quiet for a moment. “You want the one by the window??”
“I'd like that.” She admitted.
You nodded and tossed your stuff on the bed in the corner, and let Farah have the bed next to the big window looking out at the field.
Laswell came back with a bag of some firewood and her climbing equipment. Taking dibs on the bed in the other room and getting comfy.
After which she promptly started on some dinner because she was starving. Until then you two opened her tray of fruit from the cooler and snacked away.
“So where do you usually go rock climbing, Laswell?” Farah asks.
“We usually go up one of the old trails. There's an open section of land that shows off this huge rock face. It's the perfect climb. I think it'll be easy enough for you two.”
“We’re capable Laswell.” You chuckle. You could smell the food waft through the cabin. She plated up, and came over to set down two plates for you two. You moved over on the bench allowing Laswell to sit down, and you all dug in.
Talking and laughing as the sun starts to go down on the field, the food being quickly devoured. Laswell brought out brownies as dessert.
You gasped softly. “Are those….”
Laswell smiled and ruffled your hair. “She said they're all yours.”
You eagerly popped the lid off and snatched one to dig into. “Oh Farah, you gotta try one. Her wife makes them the best.”
Farah smiled softly and reached in and took one out. “What's in it, Laswell??”
“Hm? I have the recipe list here if you want to look at it.” She took it from her bag and passed it over. Farah read through it before biting in, humming happily. “Oh, oh these are good.” She took another bite.
“Can I just…” She slid the recipe back toward herself and Laswell nodded. “All yours”
Farah tucked it into her pocket and you two devoured the brownies. Laswell’s wife was the best, always asking what sweets you guys would like best and sending Laswell out to work with a box or two for you guys.
Eventually you all headed to bed. You crawled into bed and rolled over, falling asleep.
Farah pulled the blanket over her shoulder, and opened the window to look out at the darkness. The cool breeze on her face.
She sighed softly, and closed it. Flopping down and rolling over again. She looked into the darkness, trying to arrange the blanket to try and get comfy.
When she couldn't, she leaned over and grabbed the flashlight off the nightstand, flicking it on low. She went over to you, standing at the edge of the bed for a bit before poking you.
“Y/n?” She whispered. You mumbled softly and opened your eyes. “Farah?”
“I'm sorry… I can't sleep.” She whispered.
You smiled softly, and rolled onto your back. You pulled the blanket back to allow her in. “Come on.”
She pursed her lips and flicked the light off. But she crawled into the bed. You gave her some more blanket and closed your eyes again. Farah laid next to you, sighing and slowly closing her eyes.
She held out her hand and you linked your pinky with hers. Helping her relax and fall asleep.
The next morning Laswell was up first. She got dressed and needed a coffee. She pushed the curtain to the second room open and smiled softly when she saw you and Farah curled up, pinkies still linked.
You two could sleep in.
She tied up her hair and went to the kitchen to put hot water on the stove and look through the food bag for what to make for breakfast.
The sound of the kettle woke you up, slowly rubbing your eyes and sitting up. Farah felt you stir and also opened her eyes. “Hmm…??”
“It's ok, you can keep resting if you want.” You assure, and crawled out around her. You scratched your stomach and headed out to the main room.
“Well good morning.” Laswell greeted you.
“Mornin…”
“Coffee??”
“Please.” You nodded.
You sat down at the bench, and heard the curtain shift. “I'm gonna change.” Farah gave you the heads up.
Laswell handed you your fresh coffee. “What do you feel for breakfast??”
“Eggs??” You gave her the innocent best child ever look. “Please mom??”
“Tell you what, find the carton in the cooler and I'll see what I can do.”
Farah filled up her water bottle as Laswell made breakfast, checking her phone. She snickered a little from across the table.
Without further incentive you rushed to the cooler and dug around for the eggs, bringing them to her.
She chuckled and saw Farah come out from the back room soon.
“What are you chuckling about?” You teased softly.
Farah turned her phone and showed you a photo of Alex around a corner with a blurry Ghost in the background.
“You think he's dead yet??”
“Knowing Simon and Johnny… maybe.” You snickered.
“Those three are going to kill each other.” She fully smiled briefly before looking down at the accompanying texts.
“Well, he's still alive but accidentally took some of Ghost’s gummy worms it seems.”
You cringed a little. “Ooh… ouch. I'll have to talk with Simon to make sure he didn't hurt Alex too badly.”
You both have a chuckle over it and Laswell brings you your eggs.
And without hesitation you dig in, humming happily to have your stomach full of food and happy.
“How long is the hike to the rock face??”
“Not long. Fifteen minutes at most. And I've got all the gear for you.”
“Awesome.”
“Now that you've got some fiber in you, let's get going.” Laswell fills her water bottle and grabs the bag of equipment.
“I can carry it for you??” You offered, but she shook her head. “I got it.”
You headed out down the road and hiked up the trail into the mountains. Seeing the tall trees and smelling the fresh air. Feeling the gentle breeze on your warm skin.
Laswell led you up and off the main path to a small outcrop. And there it was. A tall rock face up the side of the mountain with clearly outlined passages and handholds from how much it had been traversed.
Laswell secured her hair and handed you your gear. You and Farah got snug and comfy. Laswell set up the ropes and pegs in the ground to hold you three.
Chalking up your hands.
“You ready, princesses??”
“Hey!” You huffed, rushing after Laswell. Farah chuckled under her breath and found a small ledge to slide her hand into. And you three started to climb.
Farah scaled it fairly easily, though it definitely felt easier when under the pressure of a mission.
You found another handhold and pushed your foot up, feeling around until you could find a spot to slot your shoe in. Securing the tie on your belt.
“You doing ok Farah??”
“A little sweaty.” She wrung her wrist out.
“Let's pause for a minute.” You secured your line and tugged it a couple times before taking your hands off the rocks, keeping your feet in place to keep you from spinning.
Farah did the same, wringing out her wrists and wiping her sweaty palms on her hips.
“Need some more powder??”
“Yeah, thanks.”
You grabbed it off your belt and handed it to her, letting her resupply, and you did the same.
“I bet Laswell is already at the top.” You chuckled.
Farah looked around, trying to spot her. “Oh she probably is.”
“Let's catch up then, hey?”
Farah nodded, and you continued to climb until you reached the top.
And as you suspected, Laswell was already at the top. “You're fast.” You pushed yourself up, shaking out her legs, looking back down at where you came from.
“Oh.” You wobbled a little, stepping back. “It's best not to look down for a minute.” Laswell tipped and looked out at the edge of the cliff. The sun showed out from behind the clouds. It casted down over the lake and reflecting off of the water.
Farah took out her phone and got a picture of the view. Motioning you and Laswell to get close.
You wrapped your arm around her, keeping your hand just off her waist as she attempted a simple smile. Catching the moment with you three.
“Now I'm gonna tell Alex about the fun we’re having.” She chuckled, and put her phone away.
“Maybe I could bring Simon here.” You wondered aloud. You threw sat around the cliff on a small blanket, drinking from your water bottles.
“Hey, I just remembered.”
Farah and Laswell looked at you curiously.
“Happy National Women's Day.”
The two smiled. “That is today, isn't it?” Farah said, and Laswell nodded.
“It is. I almost forgot.”
“I mean, we got the Barbie movie.”
Farah smiled. “I got to see it with some of the girls from my group. Their families said I could come with them.” She fidgeted with her water bottle. “We want to go with Miss Farah.” She remembered them saying.
Laswell looked out at the cliff. “I remember dragging John out with my wife and I.”
You snickered. “Uh oh, how did that go??”
“Oh I think he fell asleep.” She snickered. “It's not his typical movie. But hey, he gave a kicker of a review afterward in the car home.”
You looked down at your hands, looking at all the roughness to your hands. Your battered knuckles and the dirt under your fingernails.
“Do you guys ever feel pressured to look or act a certain way??”
A moment of soft silence went by, letting the breeze drift between you three. “Yes. I think it comes with the territory… but even though I have respect, I still feel mentally challenged a lot to prove myself.” Laswell said.
“Like some of the men in my charge can't understand how I could be as smart as them or understand how to handle pressuring situations.”
"But... Recently a lot of the pressures and beauty standards have been pushed by other women. Which, is sad, considering a lot of them think we need all this stuff done to look pretty or be wanted. But it just isn't true."
You nodded. “Yeah…”
Farah sighed softly. “It feels pressuring every day, to have to dress and act a certain way. Follow a certain code or I won't be respected. I had a man tell me I wouldn't ever have a voice if I didn't have a husband to speak for me.”
You frowned, but nodded. Farah fidgeted a little. “But you know what? I did find my voice. And a voice for many other men and women who couldn't speak before.”
She smiles. “And for every bad person I meet, I've met ten more amazing men I know I have in my corner.”
Laswell nods. “I second that.”
You smile more, happily raising your water bottle. “To the women, and all those who support them.”
You clinked your water bottles and took a large sip. “I'm glad I get to spend the week with you guys. I know it's gonna be awesome.”
“We’re going swimming next.” Farah says quickly.
Laswell and you laugh. “Swimming is next on the list then.”
114 notes · View notes
winedrunkwords · 7 months
Text
lovely vision.
Tumblr media
pairing: steve harrington x reader
summary: the one where people can tell when steve thinks about you and mike can't whisper. [1.1k]
warnings: fluff, unrequited-to-requited-love, gender-neutral!reader
✮⋆˙ ★⋆。 °⋆ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑
In hindsight, he really played himself, hoping his super-observant, super-loud, no-boundary-having friends wouldn’t say anything. He couldn’t tell if that made it better or worse.
It’s one thing for Steve Harrington, self-proclaimed Halloween hater, to not mind when other people decorate his space. That can just be written off to him being polite and kind, even though Dustin would scoff at that and Eddie would laugh and Mike would call him out on the word “polite” being anywhere near his name.
The point is, being around other people’s decorations had some kind of plausible deniability. Him putting up Halloween decoration himself, however, there’s no deniability in that.
“What’s that?” Dustin asked as he slid into the backseat of Steve’s BMW, pointing at the ghost charm that dangles from the rearview mirror. Steve offered (read: was blackmailed) into driving the boys from the Wheelers house to the arcade even though they had perfectly functioning bikes. But then Dustin said they were teaching you how to play some game whose name he couldn’t remember and he definitely didn’t want you walking all that way, and since he was going that way anyways….
“Nothing,” Steve snapped back, staring straight ahead. Hopefully that would be the end of it and no one would s—
“Doesn’t look like nothing,” offered Mike, the traitor. His hair was long and in his eyes, like Eddie’s, but Steve could still feel the suspicious, almost accusing glare through the mess. “Looks like a decoration.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “It’s just an air freshener. I know teenage boys stink but you guys know what that is.”
“A ghost air freshener,” Lucas said, right in his ear. Steve had half a mind to kick him out, but he’d already started driving to your house and he didn’t want to be late. “That’s for Halloween, and you hate Halloween. You always buy those dumb trees.”
“Why are you paying so much attention to my spending habits?”
“Because they’re terrible.”
Steve glared at him through the rearview mirror (the traitor). “Don’t think I won’t make you walk.”
Your house was pretty close to the Wheelers and already decked out, considering Halloween was at the end of the month and it was only October first. Fake, giant spider webs stretched up the front yard to the porch, and pumpkins and Halloween decorations dotted almost every inch. Your house looked like it was out of a cartoon about the Addams family and your outfit matched it, all black and muted colors. Your smile, though, that made Steve feel like he’d sipped pure sunshine.
You slid into the passenger seat, your designated spot (to no one’s surprise and to your complete obliviousness). “Oh a little ghost! He’s so cute! Is he for Halloween?”
“Yeah, Steve,” Dustin asked with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Is he for Halloween?”
Rock and a fucking hard place. “Uh, yeah. It looked like it would fit the vibe, you know, and it smells nice.” Which wasn’t a lie. Steve genuinely did like the way it smelled, and the thought of you smiling at him the way you were now (warm, bashful, a little endeared) made the fact that it was a ghost a good thing.
You were endeared, maybe a few shades more than that. Steve’s indifference to Halloween was a well-known fact in the merry band of nerds (their name) that he chose to hang out with. Robin still talked about the year she got him to decorate his house with one (just one!) skeleton like it was a badge of honor. Now here he was, Levi jeans and orange sweater, with a ghost dangling from his car, glancing at you with a smile as he pulled into the arcade parking lot.
Maybe Mike thought he was quieter than he was; maybe he just wanted to ruin Steve’s life specifically. Either way, the entire car heard him over the radio when he murmured, “Man you really do turn into the people you love.”
Steve flushed and turned around so fast that you would be concerned about whiplash if you weren’t replaying what Mike said over and over again. People you love. “Alright, go play your damn games.”
None of the boys said anything, Mike looking almost uncharacteristically apologetic through the window. You smiled out at Dustin and said, “I’ll meet you guys in a few minutes, okay?” You could almost feel the man beside you turn into a statue.
“Okay.” He glanced between you and Steve nervously but ultimately chose to follow Mike and Lucas, leaving the two of you staring after the arcade door as it shut beside him.
“I’m sorry he said that,” Steve said almost frantically, eyes locked on the steering wheel so he didn’t have to see whatever horrible embarrassed look was on your face. “Mike never really knows when to shut up and he’s an instigator. He’s an idiot, actually. I’m really sorry; I can take it down if you want and —“
Your hand on his bicep shocked him into silence, and when he looked up at you, you were smiling like he’d given you a gift. “I don’t want you to take it down, Stevie.”
“What?”
“I don’t want you to take it down,” you repeated, “I like it. Why are you saying sorry for liking me back?”
“Because I don’t want to — pause. Did you say back?”
You laughed, and it was the best sound Steve had ever heard in his life. He wanted it bottled up for him only, the only thing sustaining him for the rest of his life. “Eddie kept saying I was really obvious.”
“He kept saying that to me too,” Steve replied. “He’s just stupid.” He wasn’t entirely sure what’s happening, but you were still looking at him. Your hand fell onto his, right on the console, and relief burst inside his chest, a cool relief like a sip of water when you were parched.
Liking him back. What the fuck?
“I don’t think either of us are much better right now.”
His hand, of its own volition but also because it knew if he didn’t do this he would never forgive himself, cupped your cheek, and he didn’t even have time to ask before you said, “yes,” and leaned in. And he was kissing you.
Steve Harrington was kissing you like he needed it to breathe, like it was the difference between him being able to keep going or crumble right then and there. Steve Harrington liked you back.
You parted, and fell back into each other once, twice, before he pulled away far enough that he could talk. He whispered, “If those kids come out here and stop me, I’ll strand them, I swear.” Your answering laugh felt like absolution.
✮⋆˙ ★⋆。 °⋆ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑
thank you so much for reading this! i wanted to write something for the beginning of october and i've been missing steve, hence a little steve one-shot. pls let me know what you think; i'd love to hear it! feel free to like and reblog if you enjoyed this, it really does help <3
327 notes · View notes
Text
Rook, Ortho: Princess Power
BRUH 💀 Go figure, giving the guy obsessed with beauty two of the least flattering screenshots in his background frames… But hey, his groovy is very different from everyone else’s so far! ^^ Very relaxed and peaceful.
Cbjssbjsjskendb new tidbits about pre-Pomefiore Rook?? He used to cut his own hair with a knife and focused on keeping his bangs out of his line of sight… and he wasn’t as confident about his style (mood). It’s also interesting to know that he started doing ballet on Vil’s recommendation, and that has helped a lot with his posture, working out muscles he doesn’t normally use, and appreciating the art of performances. We love Pomefiore out here breaking gender norms 👊
A Tale as Old as Time.
Tumblr media
Rook drew out a longing sigh, gently easing into the quiet of the museum. The soft sound lingered, coiling around his fingers like thread from a spool. It, too, did not wish to part ways with the stunning beauty laid out bare before it.
A fair maiden was framed in shining platinum. Hair black as ebony, lips as red as the rose, and skin as white as snow... Truly, she was the fairest in all the land.
Her graceful frame was folded, kneeling on the forest floor to greet the woodland creatures that had gathered. The pale yellow skirt of her gown spilled out, blue bodice and puff sleeves fitted well by her figure. Her face round and gentle, in spite of the high collar encircling it, crowed by a petite red bow.
Here was pure innocence, a young girl reveling in nature.
“Beauté,” he marveled—to no one in particular, but such beauty warranted verbal acknowledgement.
“It seems that this painting has captured your interest, Rook Hunt-san!” a voice chirped. A neon blue light emanated from the darkness, accompanied by the silver flash of metal.
“Bonjour!” Rook greeted Ortho. "I must confess, I have been enchanted by this particular work of art! The brush strokes, masterful! The composition, immaculate!! The subject—oh, how it makes my heart quiver with nostalgia!! I am a man close to being moved to tears!!”
Ortho curiously glanced at the girl and her animal friends. No strong emotions arose within up from him. Perhaps he did not feel as much, or perhaps Rook felt too much. “Is there a sentimental experience or memory you have related to this painting…?”
“Oui! It is a tale as old as time.” Rook gestured to the snow white young lady. “They say that this maiden was a princess forced to flee from her home country, as a hostile presence threatened her life. She retreated into the woods and found comfort in a humble life there. Her tenacity is most admirable!!”
“Tenacity… That’s the value that Pomefiore was founded on!” Ortho, floating overhead, beamed at Rook. “I understand why you would like that story. It has a good moral that sticks with you.”
“That is the beauty of telling tales! They inspire those who hear of it, ensuring that the spirit of the story is never truly extinguished.” The huntsman’s eyes held a keep glint to them. “Tell me, Ortho-kun. What do you believe makes a princess?”
The boy blinked. A split second, and he had already input the term into an internal search engine, the formal definition loaded up to recite.
“Prin-cess, noun. The daughter of a monarch or wife to a prince. A woman having sovereign power.”
“An efficient, succinct answer!” Rook applauded, his cheer never faltering. “However, my desire is to know your interpretation. In Ortho-kun’s own words, what makes a princess?”
“My own…?” The words stretched, unsure, on his tongue. Ortho hesitated—seeking, processing, and analyzing. Rook’s heartbeat sounded where there was the space for the boy to think.
Then, finally, Ortho spoke.
“From what I’ve observed in movies and books, the princess is a pop culture icon. She’s usually presented as a role model for little girls. Someone who is beautiful, dainty, and composed, wearing a pretty dress and a glittering crown."
A pause. Ortho assessed Rook’s hard-to-read, bright expression.
“… Is that closer to the response you were looking for, Rook Hunt-san?” he asked.
To this, the third year’s lips quirked. “There is no correct or incorrect answer! I was curious to see your perspective. Everyone holds one that differs, lenses of all designs and colors with which to see the world through! You have my most heartfelt thanks for sharing your view with me.”
"Oh, I see! You're collecting data from a variety of sources to compare to a standard." The android (literally) lit up from within. "Let me ask the same back! Rook Hunt-san, what do you think makes a princess?"
"Mon dieu! You've set my own trap upon me," Rook teased.
The Beautiful Queen, the Fair Maiden, Vil, his peers... So many fragments of beauty in his collection. Plucked, collected, hoarded.
He ran a finger along his chin, contemplating. The thoughts assembled like a collage. Ideas taken, cut up, and pasted together into a new, glorious artwork.
"A princess can be many things," Rook declared with certainty. "They are a princess to their very core, even when their power is stripped from them or they are dressed in only ashes and rags. What defines them is not royal heritage or political influence, but the strength of their character, their values and virtues. They are not bound by a singular trait, but are aspirations to all in their own ways."
Ortho's eyes swelled. "Eh...? That's so broad! By your definition, anyone could be a princess—even you or I!”
The huntsman threw his head back and laughed. "Broad it may be, but I am of the opinion that we all have it in us to live up to the title~”
He indicated the woman in the platinum frame. Ortho’s gaze obediently followed. "Even without a kingdom to call her own, she remained kind-hearted rather than turn to cruelty. That is why she was, and always will be, a noble soul. A princess who puts out good into the world.”
“Rook Hunt-san…”
“Ortho-kun!” Rook dramatically extended an arm to him. He was practically sparkling in the dim room. “I, too, endeavor to put out as much beauty as what is gifted to me! That is my one true calling as the Hunter of Love: to not only seek out beauty, but to cultivate and to contribute to it!”
Ortho silently stared. Nii-san did warn me that Rook Hunt-san could be eccentric, but… maybe there’s some meaning to be found in it.
Cutting through the numbers and the formulas that governed him was a fuzzy warmth. Not the familiar jolt of electricity that powered his circuits. It was too wild, too unpredictable.
Something undeniably human.
Ortho let out a giggle. "Hehe. Then you must be a princess too!"
Rook's mouth formed a small "o". Unsubtle surprise—or perhaps purposefully exaggerated. "Me? Whatever makes you think that?"
"Strength of character!" Ortho parroted mischievously. "I've never met someone as uplifting as you are. Rook Hunt-san is the type of person that sees a princess in everyone."
The boy lowered himself to a few centimeters off of the ground, pretending to dip into a curtsey. "Your majesty!"
"Fufufu. You're quite charming yourself, Princess Ortho-kun!" Rook bent into a deep bow. "Most clever in all the land, computing complex problems in the blink of an eye!”
Upon straightening, the third year laid both hands over his heart. He lifted his head toward the painting of the fair maiden in the forest. A serene smile at his lips.
It was as if he was pledging his allegiance, making a vow. A worshipper at the altar to pray.
“May we all live happily ever after,” Rook whispered raptly, “like the princesses of old.”
Forever and ever.
Tumblr media
176 notes · View notes