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blue-jisungs · 11 months

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partner privilege ♡

a/n. ohmigosh it took so long to write you don’t even know <\\3 but phew okay, let’s go! first svt ot13 thingy!!!

┆彡 SEUNGCHEOL [ 승철 ]

being a leader of 12 manchildren isn’t that hard itself; it’s the fact that he also has to deal with managers. with fml being released, soon they have to start working on their next comeback. and they always make decisions in a group, it’s was his personal choice to talk it all through with their manager. cheol struggled in their early days, often afraid that they will see him as a bad leader. after many years and ups and downs together he knew he can count on them but he never shared his worries. but once he’s home, he’ll plop down next to you; head on your lap. it’s quiet at first, the questions in his head trying to make sense. suddenly, words are flooding out of his mouth as you listen carefully. seungcheol opens up, sharing his worries with you. will carats like the next comeback? isn’t the choreography too hard? will he fit the concept? is the budget enough? you soothingly caress his hair and after he’s finished, seungcheol listens to your voice as you word out your point of view.

┆彡 JEONGHAN [ 정한 ]

you don’t notice it at first because well, there’s nothing to notice. you’re having a wonderful time playing with him and his friends, some kind of a tradition whenever they came over. it’s always fun, laughs echoing in the room when minghao loses his sanity (“those are the side effects of not meditating–!”) over vernon who, somehow, gets richer and richer in monopoly. “be right back, i have to pee!” you announced and skipped to the bathroom, your sudden statement catching them off guard. jeonghan looked around and quickly moved his part of money onto your pile. “yah! what’s that?!” hoshi stood up, pointing at him “you’re cheating!”. and that blows up a whole heated debate how come he doesn’t cheat when you’re playing with them… or rather, he’s helping you win the game. only you. and you’re not even aware, most of the time. jeonghan just smiled softly at you when you came back, failing to notice that strangely there’s an additional house on your possession and hoshi is deeply offended.

┆彡 JOSHUA [ 조슈아 ]

no one knows when this habit of his started, really. as a couple, it was normal between you two to share your food. joshua would feed you a bit of his meal during dates or such. but when it came to dining out with his friends, they noticed how he doesn’t even touch his food. the first bite is always saved for you. “y/nnie, try mine!” he hums on delight, moving his plate closer to you. and as you chew on the delicious meal, nodding in approval, joshua’s face lights up with pure joy and admiration. he’s willing to switch meals if you want to, without hesitation. if you don’t like the food however, he’s giggling and apologising as you dramatically fake a gag. it would take all of his friends’ willpower to prevent from fake gagging as well but in the end, it’s heartwarming to look at you two.

┆彡 JUNHUI [ 文俊辉 ]

it’s normal for both of you to ask for something. you usually hand him his clothes when he forgets to take then to the bathroom or he’ll grab your book and bring it to you. however when you’re with his members you can’t help but notice how jealous they get over it. “junnie, can you hand me a glass of water?” you ask suddenly. they all look at him suspiciously, expecting a snarky comment or plain ignorance. but jun stands up slowly and while walking next to you he boops your nose. “of course, baby” he hums and off he goes to the kitchen to bring it to you. coming back to reading your book, a smile lingers on your lips when their complaints reach your ears (“he didn’t even bring me a single drop of water when i begged him after our comeback practice?!”). he comes back, holding a glass of water and hands it over to you with the most caring expression on his face.

┆彡 SOONYOUNG [ 순영 ]

everyone was ignoring you, just being lovey-dovey in a corner. as soonyoung was loving all the attention, you squished his cheeks with a grin. “you’re so cute…” a hum left your mouth, followed by a giggle. he pulled you even closer, tilting his head “…like a hamster”. the whole room went silent, eyes turning towards you. everyone was expecting a sudden wave of shouts of protest and arguments proving he’s a tiger, not a hamster but… nothing. soonyoung just smiled wider, lips curling upwards. “how is that possible? how did she get away with that?” someone grunted and you chuckled again, placing a quick peck on his lips. because most of the time hoshi was your tiger but in soft moments like this soonyoung was your hamster.

┆彡 WONWOO [ 원우 ]

sharing clothes with his friends (usually mingyu) was something normal for wonwoo so it was only natural that he shared his clothes with you, his significant other, as well. however, things started to change as mingyu noticed wonwoo wasn’t so willing to lend him his clothes anymore. “no, i don’t really… i stopped borrowing others my clothes, i always ended up with lack of necessities” your boyfriend explained with a giggle, mingyu nodding understandably. but things weren’t adding up when mingyu noticed you wearing similar hoodies and t-shirts. “nonu, i’m taking your leather jacket!” you announced on your way out one day, grinning wildly. and suddenly it all made sense. wonwoo only allowed you to still borrow his clothes because of your scent lingering on them afterwards. and honestly, mingyu wasn’t even offended.

┆彡 JIHOON [ 지훈 ]

jihoon isn’t too big on skinship. everyone knows that. he doesn’t fully like it, sometimes it makes him uncomfortable. hoshi still remembers that one time when he got pushed a little too hard by him when he fell asleep on jihoon’s arm. but you… oh, you. he didn’t even notice that you falling asleep on him doesn’t bother him. in fact, he enjoys it. once asleep on his lap, he was trapped on the couch; sure, he could push you off but he didn’t have the heart to do so. whilst playing with your hair the most dramatic gasp reached his ears. “OH WHAT THE–?!” dino yelled out and it took one look from jihoon to make him quiet. the younger one left the room, sprinting to share the unusual gossip while (the gossip itself) woozi put a blanket over you, his heart overtaken by warmth.

┆彡 SEOKMIN [ 석민 ]

it’s no surprise that dokyeom inhales his food. whether it’s because he’s hungry or doesn’t want to share (which is more likely) or he has to be fast because with other twelve hungry men it’s either eat or be eaten. but it comes as a shock when you’re out with them, enjoying the meal and dokyeom suddenly offers you his food. “you want some?” he asks tenderly and when you nod, he’s handing you the plate. with heart in his eyes he’s watching as you munch on the food, a happy smile on your face. “delicious, isn’t it?” your boyfriend hums and you nod, ignoring the whines of but he never shares with us! in the background.

┆彡 MINGYU [ 민규 ]

as you entered the room you could feel the atmosphere was thick. seungcheol was pouting with his arms crossed and others were side eyeing mingyu. “baby, could you drop me off to the convenience store? my favourite snacks are–“ you started, unsure why everyone is now staring at mingyu. he just smiled sweetly and stood up, reaching to his pocket over to grab his car keys. chaos erupted, mostly yells of “but you just turned down to drop off seungcheol!”. mingyu not only gives you rides everywhere but also at any given time, let it be 2am because you’re craving mcdonald’s. you’re also his passenger princess – controlling the aux, opening windows whenever you like, etc etc. as long as you’re not creating any possible dangerous situations, you’re good. albeit, there’s one rule: his hand being attached atop your thigh.

┆彡 MINGHAO [ 徐明浩 ]

it’s not something extraordinary that the members tease him, they do that on daily basis on each other. especially during gose, nowadays that he stopped meditating. sure, it’s fun for his friends to tease and make fun of him but most of the time it ends up with him throwing snarky comments back or even smacking them. “look, look his nostrils are flaring!” seungkwan yelled out, causing a manic laughter from all of them. before minghao looked over at you, laughing too, he sent the younger one a deadly stare. “you look like a bull ready to attack!” you added, giggling. he rose his hand, all of them expecting him to smack you on the arm or push you away but put it on your arm instead he pulled you closer. he broke into a soft smile, gaze softening. “oh what the–“ seungkwan grunted, mouth agape and just like that, a switch has flipped again. with a thundering gaze aimed at seungkwan, hao soothingly rubbed your arm. your teasing never put him in a bad mood, quite the contrary: he found it actually amusing (and adorable, too)

┆彡 SEUNGWAN [ 승관 ]

your boyfriend coming home in the middle of the night was such a normal occurrence lately that once he opened the door at nearly 7pm, you thought it was a intruder. “oh hi kwannie, how was work today?” you ask and the answer is on his face. after a long day of variety shows and cracking jokes, he’s emotionally drained. it’s not like it wasn’t fun but it was exhausting being the entertainer. seungkwan plops down next to you, burying his head in your neck. there’s no need to be loud, yell or talk to the camera when he’s with you… he can loosen up. he allows himself to loosen up in your presence, not being worried about if he’s entering others enough. with your embrace surrounding him and your fingers gently playing with his hair, he even manages to snooze a bit

┆彡 VERNON [ 버논 ]

vernon is rather okay with people borrowing his stuff but it’s not like his friends didn’t want to… their styles differed, that’s all. but one thing he didn’t lend often is his beanies. they just his favourite accessory and besides, who would want to borrow a beanie? well, you apparently. the first time he realised that on a photo you posted on insta you’re wearing his beanie… he couldn’t help but to smile wildly. the thing was, he didn’t confront you about it. he enjoyed the way you sneakily stole his beanies and lately put them back in their place. one time he just bluntly took off his beanie and put it over your head, pulling it down so you wouldn’t see a thing. before you managed to pull it back, vernon was giggling and hiding his phone so you don’t delete the photos he just took. you took it as a sign that your little beanie thievery is okay with him.

┆彡 CHAN [ 찬 ]

he was pretty excited for the weekend: just him, his friends and you having a fun time at cabin near a lake that seungkwan found. but when on saturday morning, while he was on his way to the meeting point, you called with a raspy voice and sniffing every second his enthusiasm dropped. “i’m sorry channie, i won’t be able to make it. but you better go, have fun–“ you croaked out and didn’t waste a moment to take a sharp turn and go to your place. only after buying needed meds and some ingredients to make you a chicken soup, he called his friends you and him won’t go. they understood, of course, and wished you a speedy recovery. at first you complained he turned down spending his free time in longly awaited place but in the end you can’t stay mad at him. while he’s feeding you soup and throwing away all the used tissues; lee chan shows you that you’re his priority, even if that means sacrificing his spare time. nonetheless, time spend with you is never a wasted time (and he’ll stand by it, despite the sickness you accidentally passed to him)

[ masterlist <3 ]

taglist. @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinshua ,, @stxrseungs ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @iliveforlixie ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @mark-geolli ,, @l3visbby,, @w3bqrl,, @ddeonudepressions,, @yourfavoritefreakyhan ,, @cinnamoroxie,, @kazmura

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ranhaitanisgf · 4 months

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heyy congrats on 2k! can i request delinquent & class president + stuck together with baji? thanks and congrats again

—baji keisuke // delinquent & student council president // stuck together

☆ ˎˊ˗ i went. soooo . overboard . this was too good though once i got going i couldn't stoppp omg. all this is lowk inspired by that one scene from the webtoon a reason to die, so iykyk :3 thank you for requesting anon, and i hope youre still around 2 years later to read this! enjoyyy xoxo

☆ ˎˊ˗ warning! small references from the 'a letter from baji keisuke' prequel series!

☆ ˎˊ˗ fem!reader

☆ ˎˊ˗ wc ; 2.5k+

masterlist || 2k masterlist

the breeze of the early evening wind was doing wonders for you at the moment; it was nice to take a moment for yourself amongst all your responsibilities and just relax.

it was even nicer that you were able to enjoy a cold beverage after completing all your student council duties; the vending machine on the rooftop was a great investment, (you’d been against it when someone pitched the idea, but you’re so glad you approved it). all of this paired with your favorite music playing through your earbuds from your iPod?

yeah, this was a perfect moment.

you perked up a bit when you heard the door to the rooftop open, looking to see who was there.

“hm? oh, baji-kun!” the boy looked over to you at the call of his name, the corners of his lips turning up when he recognized you. “what’re you still doing here? i thought you would be home already.” you asked, pulling an earbud out of your ear.

“chifuyu and ryusei were helping me with some stuff after school and we just finished up. how ‘bout you? it’s getting pretty late.” you sighed at his query, the stress coming back to you just thinking about all the things you have left to do.

“there was a lot of club budgeting to finish because a lot of the clubs are requesting more budget. all the presidents are getting mad at me for choosing another club over them, but it’s like, maybe if you were more productive with your club, i would allot more budget, y’know? gah, just thinking about it gives me a headache…i haven’t even finished the revised budgeting for half of them…” you shook your head, sighing at the predicament. when you looked back up, you saw baji adjusting his glasses awkwardly, as if he didn’t know what to say.

“sorry about that, baji-kun. i just came up here for a small break from it and ended up complaining about it to you.”

“nah, it’s fine. ‘m kinda like that with studying too.”

“oh, right! how has the studying been going for you-? wait, hm…” noticing that he was still standing, you paused, slipping your school blazer off and laying it down next to you, patting it. “here, come sit down! you don’t have to keep standing, y’know. i’m not gonna bite!” you teased, feeling satisfied when he came and sat down next to you.

“anyways! how has the studying been? have your test scores been alright lately?”

“yeah, they’ve been alright. enough to pass.”

“i’m glad to hear it! you’re improving so much, it’s so impressive! oh, you can also always ask me for a tutoring session or if you need anything. that’s what i’m here for!” you offered, smiling at him. “i admire your diligence, so i’m happy to help with anything!”

baji nodded at your words, a small smile on his lips. “yeah, thanks.”

after a few moments of silence, you offered one of your earbuds to baji, who accepted. you weren’t sure if the two of you had the same music taste, but you figured it was worth a try, and surprisingly, he didn’t seem to complain at all. in fact, he even complimented your song choice, which made you feel a very normal amount of happy. a very normal amount.

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

you were scared awake by a sudden yell, jerking as you immediately sat up, wondering what was going on.

“hey!! open this door right now!!” the banging on the door drew your attention to baji, who was no longer by your side and was yelling at the door. “hello?! shit…” he walked away from it, sighing a bit.

now that you were a bit more awake and coherent, you realized that it was dark outside.

oh shit…

“ohhh my god, i’m gonna be in so much trouble, ohhhh my god…” you mumbled, scrambling for your phone to check what time it was. when you finally found it and flipped it open, the only thing that popped up on the screen was the dead battery symbol, making you groan.

“uh…” baji started, seeming a bit awkward. “the door…is locked.”

“what?!” you exclaimed, shooting up and walking towards the door. you tried the doorknob to no avail, proving baji’s words to be true. “oh my god…dude, i’m so dead. school administration might actually kill me if they find out about this…”

baji was running a hand through his hair, also seeming to be very stressed. “my mom’s gonna kick my ass…”

now that you were looking more closely, you realized that baji had ditched his glasses and that his ponytail was gone, making him seem almost unrecognizable. in fact, you might not have recognized him if you’d passed by him on the street looking this way.

in all honesty, he actually looked so much better without the thick lenses of his glasses blocking the view of his amber eyes, and you thought that his dark hair being free from a hair tie suits him a lot better. you’re curious to see how he dresses outside of school now; he would probably fit streetwear pretty good-

wait, you have to focus. there are more important things to be thinking about right now.

right, right.

focus.

“baji-kun, does your phone have any battery?”

“no…” he mumbled, his hands shoved into his pockets as he looked at the sky. you sighed, trying to think of something. in the midst of your thinking, a chilly breeze blew by, making you shiver a bit.

“ahh, i can’t believe this is happening.” you murmured, laughing a bit at the ridiculousness of the situation. “actually though, i’m sorry about this, baji-kun. you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me.” you said, feeling a bit guilty. after all, you had been the one who had offered for him to sit down with you, and from what you remember, you were the one who fell asleep.

“it’s fine, i fell asleep too.” he said, leaning down to grab your school blazer off of the floor. “here, put this back on. it’s cold.” he tossed it over to you and you gladly accepted it, brushing some of the dust off before slipping it on. it helped a bit against the cold, but you supposed you underestimated how chilly the nights get in the spring.

baji sat back down, taking his school blazer off and setting it beside him, loosening his lie. he leaned his head back against the wall and shoved his hands into his pockets. he seemed to have given up in trying to get someone’s attention, instead accepting the situation. you were about to sit down again and do the same, but you suddenly got an idea, shuffling around in your pockets for some spare change.

“yes! 500 yen!” you whispered excitedly, walking up to the vending machine. “hey, baji-kun, do you like red bean?”

“huh? yeah, why?”

“one sec…” you answered, putting the coins in the machine. you picked out two red bean buns, watching as they slowly dispensed and fell into the bottom compartment. reaching into the bottom, you grabbed both of them, walking a few steps and sitting next to baji.

“i mean, it isn’t exactly dinner, but it’s something!” you said, offering one of the buns to baji. he accepted it, saying something about paying you back as he opened the wrapper, immediately taking a huge bite. you did the same, not realizing how hungry you were until you started eating it.

“i’m actually such a genius for this!” you exclaimed, continuing to munch on the bread. “it’s so lucky that i ended up approving the budget for this vending machine!” silence fell over the two of you as you continued eating, but you felt more content than awkward. you’re glad that you ended up stuck here with someone nice like baji.

speaking of baji, you were still a bit caught off guard by how different he looked without his glasses and ponytail. of course, you’d noticed how cute he was even before, but the word you would go with now is more like…attractive?

really attractive, but still cute.

“what?”

“huh?”

“you were lookin’ at me.” you felt your cheeks flush, a bit embarrassed at the fact that he caught you looking at him.

“oh, i was just thinking, you look a lot different without your glasses. do you actually need them?” baji seemed to think for a moment before he spoke again.

“nah, i jus’ don’t want people gettin’ the wrong idea about me.” he ended up saying. “i’m trying to get better with school, so if i go around lookin’ the way i do…”

“girls will be attracted to you?” baji sputtered at your words, almost spitting out the bread that was in his mouth.

“hah?! no!! it’s ‘cause i don’t want people knowing i’m in a gang!!” your jaw dropped at his words, and he subsequently smacked his hand over his face.

the information was a huge shock to you. of course, you’d heard the rumors, but you’d chalked them up to just that; rumors. after all, even though baji wasn’t someone with perfect grades, you always saw him trying his best to get his grades up, and you really admired that.

“you…pff…you’re in a gang?! riiight…” you managed to get out, giggles starting to overtake your words. “baji-kun, you literally dressed in a sailor school uniform to get extra tutoring-!”

“hey! that was one time!” he grumbled, his ears turning pink. you finished laughing, wiping some tears from your eyes as you calmed down.

“okay okay, sorry. i mean, are you being serious though?” you asked, feeling a bit curious.

“yeah. only losers lie about stuff like that.”

“okay, which one then?”

“toman.” again, your mouth dropped at his answer, but you recovered quicker than before.

“t-toman, like tokyo manji gang…right. yes. wait, would you get arrested if people found out you were in a gang? why can’t anybody know?”

“it’s ‘cause then random dudes start showin’ up at school to fight, and then i get in trouble for fighting.”

“ohh, i guess that makes sense. why would they bother you at school though? school isn’t the place for that stuff…”

“dunno. it just gets annoying to deal with after a while, and my mom always kicked my ass when the school called her, so it was kinda crap.” you nodded thoughtfully at his words.

“well, your secret’s safe with me, baji-kun! pinky promise i won’t say a word to anyone!” you held your pinky out, but he just looked away from you.

“i believe you, you don’t have to-”

“c’mon!! it’s not a pinky promise if you don’t lock pinkies, y’know.”

“...fine.” you cheered as baji relented, gently wrapping his pinky around yours. you shook your crossed pinkies and let go, feeling satisfied, (why did that small contact with him make your heart skip a beat?)

“there! and you can beat me up or something if i break it.” you joked, leaning your head back against the wall.

“i’m not gonna beat you up.”

“eh? why not?”

“i don’t hit girls.” he said matter of factly, his tone quite serious. “only assholes hit girls.” you stared at him for a moment, seeing the dead serious look on his face before you smiled, closing your eyes.

“y’know, you’re a pretty stand up guy, baji-kun. i like that about you.” you hadn’t meant to say the last part, but you were hoping he would just ignore it.

“...thanks.” after that, there was a comfortable silence between the two of you, the only light source being the moon. you enjoyed living in tokyo, but if there was one thing you didn’t like, it was the fact that you couldn’t see the stars at all.

“this wall is so uncomfortable…” you muttered, trying to get comfortable enough to sleep again. you’d long since given up on trying to get off the rooftop, so you figured that you might as well get some sleep since you were sure tomorrow was going to be interesting, (you weren’t looking forward to having that conversation with the principal).

abruptly, you felt baji’s arm across your chest, pushing the side of your head to land on his shoulder.

“better?” he asked, seeming to have no reaction.

“uh, yeah…isn’t this uncomfortable for you though?”

“nah.”

“o-okay…” you said hesitantly. if you weren’t so tired, you probably wouldn’t have been able to sleep from how flustered you were right now; after all, you’ve never had a boy offer you his shoulder to sleep on, so why wouldn’t you be flustered?

it definitely wasn’t because it was baji.

definitely not….

it was definitely because it was baji.

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

bonus:

chifuyu and ryusei both looked down at the sight in front of them, shock filling their bodies.

they’d been worried when baji had skipped the toman meeting yesterday evening, and they had been even more worried when his phone had been switched off, spending the rest of the night trying to find out what happened to him. however, now that they knew what had happened, they were about to burst their seams from laughter.

“pff…do, hah, do we wake them up?” chifuyu whispered, his cell phone out and snapping pictures.

“n-nah, haha, they look pretty cozy…pfff…” ryusei whispered back, his cell phone also out and snapping pictures from every angle.

in front of them was baji and you, your head resting on his shoulder and his head resting on top of your head, dozing off without a care in the world. he had draped his blazer over the both of you as a blanket, and if one didn’t know any better, they might think that the two of you were a couple.

“pff…this is some good blackmail stuff,” ryusei chuckled, exuding a proud aura. “look at toman’s little keisuke, all grown up now and sleeping with his crush! that’s what dreams are made.” chifuyu spluttered at ryusei’s words, a shocked expression on his face.

“baji-san has a crush on (y/n)-san?! isn’t she the student council president?!” he whisper-yelled. ryusei nodded and shrugged.

“the heart wants what the heart wants, or something.”

“both of you, shut the fuck up.”

“eek!”

“gah!”

baji glared at the two boys in front of him, holding up a finger to his lips, telling them to shush.

“what’re you still doin’ here? scram.” they both immediately made a beeline for the door, fearful of baji’s wrath after being woken up from sleep.

baji rubbed his eyes, yawning a bit as he looked around. he’s not sure what time it is, but he’s glad that it was only those two idiots who saw the two of you and nobody else.

we should probably get up and get to class before someone else comes up here.

he turned to the side to wake you up, but he stopped, looking at your sleeping form. he chuckled a bit when he saw your messed up hair, wondering how it got so messed up when the two of you were sleeping sitting up. he leaned back against the wall, staring up at the clouds passing by.

just five more minutes.

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lihhelsing · 9 months

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Baby, be the life of the party

This is Steve’s first solo project and the odds are not in his favor. Everyone he knows already told him the guy is a menace, but it’s the opportunity he’d been waiting for, so Steve takes it.

There’s a poll to how long it’s gonna take for him to quit.

Steve’s not a quitter, though. He’s used to people treating him like shit, so he’s not scared of the guy. His father has said and done much worse to him than this guy ever could. That doesn’t mean he’s not nervous about their first meeting.

He gets to the house early because first impressions matter. He knocks and a small redhead opens the door for him. She’s on the phone, but she motions for him to follow her to the backyard.

Steve is shocked. It’s not a house, it’s a fucking mansion.

Robin had told him the guy was famous and rich and whatever, but he didn’t expect any of that.

The girl points to a table under a tree, right across from the giant pool. There’s a guy sitting there and Steve takes a deep breath before walking to him.

“Mr. Munson. Hi, I’m Steve Harrington.”

The guy turns and scans him. He has sunglasses on, and Steve would bet his life on the fact he’s hungover.

They stare at each other and the guy doesn’t say anything so eventually, Steve sits down.

Silence.“I’m the party planner,”

“Didn’t know they were letting anyone do this shit.”

“I can assure you I know what I’m doing.”

“Yeah? Didn’t they tell you throwing parties to piss off your dad when you were a teenager doesn’t count as experience?”

Steve sighs. It's not the first time a client judges him for looking like he does. And he's not exactly surprised. From what he can gather, Eddie Munson is a metal guy.

He looks the part.

And worst of all? He looks good. Even if he's hungover.

"From what I understand, your daughter wants a Cosmic Princess theme this year? Is that it?"

Eddie grunts and Steve thinks this is the best he will get.

"Let me show you what I was thinking and if I have your approval, I can meet with her and see what ideas she likes best"

Steve doesn't miss Eddie's surprised expression, even as he suppresses it real fast. He shows him his folder with all his ideas and inspiration and he can tell Eddie wasn't expecting that.

He can tell Eddie is surprised with him and there's a part of him that feels good about it

When they are done, Eddie nods to the house.

"Chrissy will take you to Lily's room. She can have whatever she wants, within reason and not above budget. I trust you will know how to handle her."

"Yeah, of course, Mr. Munson. Your budget is very generous."

Eddie looks up at him for the first time all day and he almost smiles. Almost.

There's something mischievous behind his expression and Steve can't quite place it.

"You check in with me after she makes her choices, ok?"

Steve nods "Yeah, Mr. Munson. I'll be back."

"Oh, and Steve?"

Steve is already up, so he looks down, curious. This time, Eddie smiles.

"You can call me Eddie."

Steve smiles back, feeling like he must've done something right at least if Eddie is not cursing him already.

Maybe, just maybe, he might pull this out.

Part 1 Part 2 (soon)

#steddie #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #steddie fanfic #steve harrington x eddie munson #Steve Harrington #Party Planner AU #Alternate Universe

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weirdly-specific-but-ok · 1 month

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Hey students everywhere, I'm proud of you. You are so much more than enough.

Hey my maggots who're stuck in the education system right now. This is a long post but... but I know how many of you need to hear this, so please do. I just want you to know...

I'm proud of you. I'm so, so proud of you.

For continuing to survive in a system that's so bullshit that it can fail you at art, give you a grade for composing music, decide your seat in a medical college based on multiple choice questions about obscure ecology statistics (that are probably outdated), and decide whether or not you should study literature based on your summary of a pre-approved book.

I'm so proud of you.

i see you, I know you're exhausted, you're losing the love for subjects that were once your passion but now are ruined, you're burnt out and scared, you're studying things you don't even care about.

I know there are some of you who feel guilty even taking the time to read these words. I know, because I was there.

I'm proud of you for every second you spend doing the things you love, for every second you've spent trying so hard, for every second you've spent resting, for every second you've spent doing ridiculous things that made you smile and laugh and cry, for every second you studied and every second that you didn't, for every second you've spent wasting time because hey the point is that you lived that time and that's amazing in itself.

It's a fucked up system. It's broken and deeply flawed on every level, from the administration to the teaching to the budget to the students' mentality to the politics to the inclusivity... it's all fucked.

The more you recognise that, the closer you'll get to maybe realising that truth. That your talent and love for a subject, for an art form, for a branch of science or mathematics or a language, cannot possibly be measured in fucking numbers or alphabets from A to F.

The very idea is ridiculous, yet here we are, believing it.

Let's not anymore. It'll take a while to push it out of our head. But we can do it.

Yeah?

Tell yourself, and the people you know who are at any stage of education right now, all of this. It's not your fault. You're doing so well. I'm proud of you. So much of this is out of your control, with factors that shouldn't matter affecting your grade, with things happening that you can't help. So I'm proud of you. For being you and living. I'm sorry if you don't hear it enough, because you should.

I'm so, so proud of you.

#good omens mascot #weirdly specific but ok #asmi #maggots #oh my maggots #i love you so much #i am proud of you #fuck the education system #the education system #kind words #but they're true ones too #positive post

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ihavemanyhusbands · 1 year

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Degustatión

Hannibal Lecter x Will Graham x Fem!Reader

Also on AO3

Summary: You, an aspiring food critic, are introduced to Doctor Hannibal Lecter by one of your professors. The two of you bond over good food and perhaps... a mutual attraction. Then, Will Graham -- Hannibal's closest friend and confidant -- is added into the equation and things get a lot more complicated... but let's be honest, a whole lot more interesting as well.

Word Count: 4,464 words.

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ only, minors dni), p in v, light knife play, oral sex (f & m), threesome, lmk if there's anything I missed!

A/N: Yep, not much plot, we are going straight to it. We all know what we came here for right? HEAVY ON THE SELF-INDULGENCE

———

The night air was crisp and cool, seeping all the way to your bones despite the layers you wore. Fall was coming to a close and winter was quickly approaching, icy claws bared. You stared up at the house – his house – admiring the impeccable but austere architecture. It reminded you of a more modern sort of palace and, my word, was it fitting of the man you came to see.

As you locked your car and began slowly walking up the driveway, you shivered, but it had nothing to do with the temperature.

This wouldn’t be the first time you’d dine with Doctor Hannibal Lecter, the most refined palate in all of Baltimore. In fact, the first time you met him – a favor from your creative writing professor, who knew of your dream of becoming a food critic – he’d taken you out to dinner. He was always happy to meet people who loved food as much as he did.

It’d been at a fancy restaurant, glittering diamonds and expensive perfume and the cold sneers of the wealthy surrounding you. It was way out of your budget, to say the least. But you hadn’t been surprised at his choice; he was a little eccentric, after all.

You’d felt bad, but he’d insisted on taking care of the bill, so long as you gave your honest opinion on the dishes he ordered for you to try. You were definitely not a picky eater, but you’d been a bit hesitant to relent all of your control. In the end, your own promise to give everything a chance at least once convinced you.

And boy, did Hannibal know how to eat. Not that you thought all word about him was a rumor, but you simply had not known the depths of their truth.

In just that first meeting, he expanded your palate considerably, presenting you with things you’d never even thought of. Perhaps not to the level he was on, but it still felt like a whole new world was yawning open for you to explore.

Sometimes you still dreamed of the lingering umami of caviar, the richness of a good Malbec wine, the sweet and creamy croquembouche he’d fed you spoonfuls of for dessert.

But you had felt a little embarrassed afterward, like you’d been a mere imposter before that night. What the hell had you even known about food?

You had a couple of exotic meals under your belt, but you were only truly starting your career journey, and money wasn’t always permitting.

On the other hand, you’d also felt slightly reassured by the way he watched you, appraising and unrelenting, with a certain curiosity that made you feel completely exposed. He had delighted in your deep hums of approval, the soft glaze of bliss in your eyes. He hung onto your every word as you described flavors, textures, scents. He’d smirked slightly throughout the entire ordeal, hazel eyes shining with amusement, and you found yourself squirming slightly in your seat.

He hadn’t failed to notice that either. In fact, unbeknownst to you, he had a very keen sense of smell, and he seemed to get hooked on yours.

So yes, you had bonded over food, and every subsequent meeting had brought something new and positively groundbreaking. The way he could make you experience such wonders seemed to entice him to continue seeing you, and you certainly were happy to oblige.

But tonight was different in more than one way. He’d bestowed upon you the great honor of inviting you to one of his famous dinner parties, to finally get a taste of his cooking. The idea of eating something put together by his hands – so elegant, with such long fingers, like a pianist’s – felt incredibly intimate, but also monumental. It was anticipation that had you quivering, your whole body tight and seemingly buzzing with electricity.

Especially as you heard a car door shut behind you. Ah, there was the other reason you were so anxious. You whirled around to face him and his steps slowed as he found himself pinned under your gaze.

Not necessarily a rival, but someone who definitely seemed to want to compete with you for Doctor Lecter’s attention. In his own subtle way, of course.

You had heard the name Will Graham a couple of times in your meetings with Hannibal and it was very apparent that they were close. Very close.

When you two had finally been introduced, you did not know what to make of one another. Will was tense and awkward for the most part, avoiding eye contact as much as he could. He was definitely more reserved, letting you and Hannibal do most of the talking, but chiming in with dry remarks whenever he thought it was necessary.

But he also seemed intrigued by you, often looking at you at least from the corner of his eye, like he wanted to see for himself what your appeal to Hannibal was. Not many got close to the Doctor, it seemed, even as popular as he was.

Will studied you in return and smiled almost imperceptibly. It felt like a truce, which you readily accepted.

“What a coincidence,” he said. “We’re both so punctual.”

“Anything else would be rude.” You said, your tone light, even if you firmly believed it to be true. Especially when it came to Hannibal.

He stepped toward you, offering you his arm. “Shall we?”

You linked your arm with his, immediately getting a whiff of his strong aftershave. You understood why Hannibal hated it, but you didn’t voice your opinions. You wished you could smell his more natural scent – pine needles and petrichor and musk – as it fit him much better. It made you want to bury your face in the crook of his neck, fingers intertwined with the curls at his nape.

Perhaps he also did not know what to do with the fact you seemed to be drawn to him as well. It was that quiet, mysterious air about him, always assessing, poised to strike. In a way, he sort of reminded you of Hannibal, though not quite as eased into that darker, more primal nature.

You waited as Will rang the doorbell, arm still holding yours. You weren’t sure if he was leading you, or if he had captured you, not letting you escape. The idea of either was titillating, though it wasn’t like you wanted to leave.

Then, the door opened and there he was, that familiar smirk already on his handsome face.

“Well, well,” Hannibal said. “It’s a pleasure to see you both. Please, come in.”

As you stepped over the threshold, Will took the bottle of wine you brought – a Shiraz, which you remembered Hannibal mentioned liking – as Dr. Lecter stepped behind you.

“May I?” He asked, referring to your coat.

You nodded and his hands slid over your shoulders lightly as you shrugged your coat off. His fingers were warm, almost teasing, and you momentarily wondered how they’d feel on your exposed flesh.

Hannibal inhaled deeply, scenting your perfume – Amber, smoky cedar, bergamot – and that chemical change in your sweat at his nearness.

“Your home is so lovely.” You breathed, taking in your surroundings-- The pastoral art on the walls, the dark glaze of the hardwood floors, the almost surgical cleanliness. It was all just so him. “Thank you for inviting me.”

Hannibal nodded in appreciation, leading you both to the dining room. Will, who was at your side, leaned in close to your ear. “Be careful not to let your jaw fully unhinge, it’s bad for the muscle.”

You scoffed, half amused and half offended. Was he accusing you of being a brown-noser, or did he dislike simply dislike you currying Hannibal’s favor?

“We don’t have to do this, you know,” You said, your voice a husky whisper. “We were playing nice just now. Though I have to say, I do like that little fire of yours. It tells me you can still burn, if you so want.”

Will said nothing, and you knew that in some way, you got to him. Yes, you’d had just a little bit of liquid courage before you got here, but just enough to warm the blood; If only so they might not confuse you for a trembling fawn, surrendering to its fate. It had certainly loosened your tongue a little, letting your desires slip through.

As Hannibal pulled your chair out for you, his smirk grew a little as he sensed the sudden tension between you and his coveted Will Graham. Oh, things were already getting so interesting.

Hannibal poured three glasses of the wine you brought, reaching over to squeeze your hand upon reading the label. You felt a swell of pride in your chest, hid it behind a demure smile. He eyed the column of your throat as you swallowed your wine.

“Forgive my forwardness,” Hannibal said, setting his glass down. “But I must say, you look quite… delectable tonight. Did you go through all that trouble just for me?”

“Doctor Lecter–” You breathed a small, shy laugh, cheeks flushed.

“Careful, Hannibal.” Will cut in, looking right at you. “She might put your dinner to shame.”

“No, I don’t believe she would.” Hannibal leaned forward slightly. “In fact, I have some slightly regretful news. I apologize for waiting until now to bring this up, but I thought we could have a different approach to tonight’s dinner.”

You tilted your head to one side, just now realizing that there were no enticing scents of a cooked meal. You’d been so occupied with his presence to notice. Disappointment curled in your stomach, but his tone made you straighten your spine.

“Oh?” You prompted, suddenly very curious.

“In the continued pursuit of new experiences for you, I was wondering… How would you like to be tasted?”

There was a moment of silence in which you didn’t even move, unsure if you were dreaming or he’d actually just said those words. Oh, what cruel torture it would be, if it turned out to be the former.

But then he went on. “Will and I spoke of it. He was the one to suggest the idea, actually.”

Your eyes immediately drifted to Will Graham, who was looking intently at Hannibal’s profile. That was a time he decided to stay quiet, but you didn’t fail to notice how his Adam’s appled bobbed with a hard swallow.

“Did he now?” Your voice dropped to a near whisper, sultry, coaxing. “And did Mister Graham go into the specifics of how this would go about?”

“Well if I did or not, wouldn’t it be better for you to find out?” Will said, terse, as if he could still not admit his desires to himself. Like he was ashamed of wanting something to keenly. “Or did you want me to tell you?”

You held his gaze for a moment, shaking your head almost imperceptibly.

But then, looking at both men, a sort of awareness made your skin tingle. A field mouse between two mighty serpents, not fully concealed in the tall grass. You wondered how their fangs might feel as they sunk into you, how their venom must sting.

Well, you did say you would try anything at least once, didn’t you?

You cleared your throat, crossing your legs. “Will anyone else be joining us for dinner?”

Hannibal arched a light brow, just as Will finally looked at you, a little taken aback. To Hannibal, this wasn’t so much of a revelation, but more of a confirmation. You secretly loved the theatricality, the rapturous looks of spectators. Most of all, you loved when the spotlight was on you, baring everything – your soul included – for examination. It was what drew him most to you.

Perhaps eventually, but that night…

“No, just us.” Hannibal said finally. “Only with your consent, of course. I do not want to make assumptions. It was just a thought, a mere… unbecoming desire.”

“Perhaps it is mutual.” You admitted, breathless. “We are only made of flesh and fault, after all.”

“Yes, and how tender seems the flesh.” He trailed a finger lightly down your arm, and goosebumps followed in its wake.

Hannibal’s easy smirk returned as you squirmed, thighs rubbing against each other, heat pooling in your stomach and even lower. Will adjusted in his seat, clearing his throat, swallowing hard once again.

You wondered what it would be like to see him break; to see him without restraints, free, surrendered to his basest instincts. You wondered if Hannibal had seen him that way, and if he was just about to share that with you. Or do the same to you.

You weren’t sure which you wanted more, but you were sure you would lose your head if you got neither. Were you beneath begging? It was yet to be seen…

You worried your bottom lip with your teeth, unsure of how to proceed. “What do you need me to do?”

“Nothing, dearest. Leave it to me – to us. You’ll be in very good hands.”

That sultry promise in his words – purred to you in a way only he seemed to know how – melted you completely. You had never believed in anything more.

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

The first slow lick of your open mouth had your breath catching, but you couldn’t do much more than close your eyes. Hannibal held your face with one hand, and you were sure it was the only thing grounding you to the Earth; tethering you to your own body.

But then his tongue dragged over yours a second time, and a soft mewl escaped you, your head spinning.

“I’m not sure which I like more,” Hannibal said, voice husky. “Those sounds you make, or the taste of good wine on your tongue.”

The three of you had moved to the kitchen, with you sitting on the dark granite island. The kitchen was opulent and in pristine condition, though there were small details that showed it was well lived in. Out of all the rooms in the house, you knew this was where Hannibal spent most of his time.

Not that you were really paying much attention to your surroundings at that very moment.

“I think you’ve rendered her speechless.” Will commented, an edge of amusement in his voice.

Your eyes fluttered open just barely as Hannibal chuckled. “And we’re barely getting started.”

He slowly trailed the back of his hand down the sleeve of your blouse. “I don’t think we’re going to be needing this, do you?’’

Hannibal took a step back, fingers pensively dancing over the handles of the knives that were stored in a polished wooden block. You immediately moved to start unbuttoning your silk blouse, hands shaking.

But Will, in a sudden act of confidence, stepped forward, between your legs.

“Allow me.” He murmured, eyes downcast.

You watched him closely, how his patient hands slowly finished undoing all the buttons. Your chest heaved as he gently pushed it off your shoulders, pooling at your back. He gazed intently at the lacy bralette you wore, barely concealing anything. Your nipples were two hard peaks that pressed against the thin fabric, demanding attention.

But he did not give it to you. At least, not yet.

Then, Will and Hannibal switched places, your eyes closely trailing the glint of the chef knife’s edge. Your pulse began racing, both in exhilaration and a slight tinge of fear.

Hannibal took a moment to look at you, his hand coming to rest on the flat expanse on your stomach. His hand inches upwards, fingers just barely grazing the soft underwire of your bralette.

“Let’s see what we’re working with here, shall we?” He purred, holding your gaze. “Lean back for me, sweetness.”

You oblige without a doubt. In the next moment, his finger curls, pulling the underwire forward, the knife following close behind. You gasped and in a quick, expert slash, the measly excuse for a cover falls apart, baring your breasts. Your back arched instinctively, attempting to get closer to him.

Hannibal hummed in approval, his smirk positively devious. “Take a gander, Will.”

He trailed the flat part of the knife — featherlight, barely a whisper – down your sternum, through the valley between your breasts. You dared not move this time, not wanting to distract him from this deliciously slow torture. You kept expecting even the slightest nick of the blade, and that fearful anticipation made you even more aroused.

“I must say, I’m not quite sure where to start. Such softness… Such supple skin.” Hannibal mused. The tip of the knife stopped at the hem of your skirt, and he tilted his head to the side with the curiosity of a predator sizing up its’ meal. “We should free you of this too, hm?”

“Yes.” You breathed.

Will tsked in disapproval. “Don’t forget your manners, now.”

Your eyes were drawn to him, your pupils blown wide with desire, the darkness swallowing your iris. You briefly wondered if they could hear the jackhammer pace of your heart; Like a war drum against your ribcage.

“Please.” You added, just as low, your voice somewhere out of reach.

The knife retracted and Hannibal offered you a hand so you could stand up. As soon as you did, he pressed you against him, your bare chest against his woefully clothed one. Will came up behind you, intent on unzipping your skirt, but you stopped him with the arch of your back, pressing your ass against his crotch.

He sucked an audible breath through his teeth, a groan threatening to escape his throat. Hannibal chuckled as Will gripped your hands behind your back with one hand and finally undid your skirt. Roughly, he pulled it off of you, stepping back as Hannibal quickly spun you around to face him.

You gripped Will’s arms tightly as his lips captured yours in a ferocious kiss. He held you up as Hannibal ripped your stockings apart – both with the knife and his hands – jostling you a little against Will. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth as your panties fell to the same fate.

When you broke the kiss – an obscene string of saliva still connecting your lips – you looked into his eyes, breath catching at the intensity of them; Like a pure and holy – or perhaps unholy? – blue flame. He was getting more and more beautiful by the minute, unraveling before your eyes.

You felt Hannibal’s finger trail up your inner thigh, capturing your wetness. “What a delightful mess you’ve made.”

You squirmed in Will’s embrace, slightly embarrassed at his discovery. How were you so wet already?

Actually, you knew the answer to that question.

Hannibal’s fingers trailed further up, precariously close to that aching spot you really wanted him to touch. But he stopped, almost expectant.

“What do we say?” Will said, voice dangerously low.

“T-thank you.” You gasped as Hannibal grazed his teeth against your inner thigh, chasing away the sharp sting with his tongue.

Involuntarily, you pushed your hips back, closer to his face. You heard Will’s belt clink slightly as he undid it, along with his trousers. You reached down, wanting to touch him, to savor him too, but he only smirked devilishly.

“Greedy thing, isn’t she?” Will purred, taking a hold of your hand to stop you.

“So it seems.” Hannibal said, standing up. “But with such delectable honey, how can we deny her?”

From behind you, he stretched his hand out towards Will, offering his fingers slick with your arousal. Without a second thought, Will leaned forward and captured his fingers in his mouth, tongue wrapping around his digits.

And that taste of you, saccharine on his tongue, sticking to his palate in all its glory, snapped something in him. He let out a low growl and pushed your hand away, his trousers and boxers soon falling to the floor in a heap.

Hannibal crouched once more behind you as Will pulled you forward, your eyes widening and mouth watering. At the same time that Hannibal buried his face in your cunt, you grasped Will’s erection, a glistening bead of precum on the tip.

Will leaned back against the kitchen island and you bent lower, sticking your tongue out and lapping up the precum. The taste of him was a bit sharp, but not unpleasant; salty and slightly musky. You hummed in approval, giving the underside of the head a teasing lick. His hand buried in your hair, guiding your head gently.

As you took him in your mouth, you moaned around his length. Hannibal was licking you in long, languid strokes, hands spreading you further open. Your legs twitched, but you were too wrapped up in the feel of Will’s cock sliding over your tongue. He shuttled it in and out slowly, reaching a little further every time. You hummed your pleasure continuously, the vibration of it adding to his own pleasure.

Will’s hips bucked and he grunted, eyes screwed shut and head thrown back in ecstasy. Then behind you, Hannibal picked up the pace, his tongue circling your clit as he inserted a finger into your cunt. Your whole body tensed, the movements of your head momentarily halting, and Will snapped to attention.

“Don’t make her come yet.” He snarled, a startling possessive edge to his tone.

Much to your chagrin, Hannibal acquiesced, pulling back, though his finger was still pumping in and out of you at a much slower pace. With a loud pop, you released his cock, drool sloppily dripping down your chin.

“Apologies, I got too carried away.” Hannibal panted, sounding quite smug at how he got you dripping for him. “I’ve seldom tasted something quite so divine. Sweet ambrosia, a feast worthy of the Gods.”

He withdrew completely, pulling you up with him. One hand came up to grip your neck just tight enough to keep you pinned; The other came up to palm your breast, thumb teasing your nipple. You growled in frustration, wiggling your hips.

“What’s that now?” Will taunted, stroking his length slowly – flicking his wrist just so… oh sweet torture! – his breath ragged. “Didn’t we agree to play nice earlier?”

“Oh, she’s being nice. Aren’t you, sweetness?” Hannibal purred, tilting your head to the side to meet his gaze. He looked much like you, lower half of his face glistening with an artful mess of your own creation. “Perhaps she deserves a taste.”

And he kissed you, tongue immediately parting your lips and tangling with your own. You tasted yourself on his lips, mixed in with his saliva, and it had an almost narcotic effect on you. Warmth spread throughout you, oblivion just at your fingertips. You were simply, utterly hooked.

He pulled away to toss his jacket to the side and then bound your hands behind your back with his tie. You heard him undo his trousers and you suppressed a shiver of anticipation. You kept your eyes on Will, the steady rhythm of his hand stroking himself hypnotizing you.

Then, you felt Hannibal’s cock line up with your entrance, the head of it barely slipping in. His low groan was in your ear and he dipped his head to nip your shoulder. You held your breath, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he plunged further into you, making sure you felt every inch.

When he was fully sheathed in you – your head swimming and barely able to tell where he ended and you began – your mouth slackened in pure, unadultered ecstasy.

“How angelic,” Will breahted, awed. “Look at the rapture in her eyes, gazing directly into Heaven.”

“How lucky… she had us to show her.” Hannibal panted.

Hannibal fucked you with a near surgical precision, his thrusts deep and unrelenting, knowing exactly what spots to hit to make you cry out. In fact, he guided himself by the sounds you made, adjusting quickly to whatever seemed to make you respond the most. His hand snaked down to your clit, stroking in time with his thrusts.

And he had to admit, you really did look like an angel in that moment, rosy cheeked, eyelashes thick with tears of overstimulation. Those undignified moans of yours were like a melody he would remember for days to come.

By the tight clench of your cunt, he knew you were right there, but as much as he wanted you to come all over his cock – anointing him with your cream, forever marking him – he knew he’d already been quite greedy with you. He wanted Will to have it; A gift to him.

The swap was almost seamless; one moment you were achingly empty, ready to claw the walls if you didn’t get your release soon. But then you were bent over the kitchen island, legs kicked apart, and Will filled you up in a single thrust.

The way he fucked you was wholly different. Will was more frantic, almost feral, all bared teeth and low growling. His hips slapped against yours loudly, his thrusts quick and almost punishing.

Your body was pure fire, a pillar of all consuming flame. You worried you would slip through their fingers if you weren’t held together tight enough.

Hannibal watched through the whole ordeal, stroking himself, though a part of you wished you could be doing it for him.

And suddenly, with a slight tilt of his hips, Will hit a certain spot inside of you that finally unraveled that tight coil in your stomach. With a keening wail, you stumbled into oblivion, shooting stars streaking in the darkness your eyelids.

Will was right there with you, the tight clench your cunt milking out his pleasure. He painted his design inside you, a messy, unabashed masterpiece.

After a couple more heartbeats, in which you listened to his grunts and ragged breathing, he pulled out of you, sticky warmth trickling down your inner thigh.

Hannibal undid the tie holding your hands, massaging your arms gently and kissing down your spine. He’d already cleaned himself of his own release, now intent on taking care of you. He turned you around and embraced you, wiping your damp hair away from your forehead.

You sagged against him, smiling beatifically, breathing heavily still. Your body still responded to his touch, but you were exhausted.

Will soon returned, already clean himself, with a soft towel in hand. He kneeled in front of you and cleaned you with the utmost care. Both of them looked at you reverently, like someone to worship.

“Well, out of all our times dining together, I have to say… this has been my favorite.” You sighed dreamily, voice still tremulous.

Hannibal chuckled. “Trust me, sweet angel, this won’t be the only time.”

And you were more than okay with that promise.

———

#will graham x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #will graham smut #hannibal lecter smut #hannibal fanfiction #will graham x fem!reader #hannibal lecter x fem!reader #hannigram x reader

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evilphrog · 7 months

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Watching Wheel of Time without reading the books: Season 2 Episode 3

Rand gets Pretty Womaned. Perrin has to once again make a choice between the hammer and the axe, and once again lets someone else make that choice for him. Nynaeve is missing, presumed dead, until she literally breaks the laws of physics to get back home because nobody tells her what she can and cannot do, not even reality. Egwene never stops believing in her. Mat escapes with the psychic bartender, but it was actually all orchestrated by the biggest bitch on the wheel.

Rand is the personal attendant to the False Dragon, who is now more of a lizard. He desperately begs to be taught how to control his powers before he suffers the same fate, but Lizard was never all that empathetic to begin with, and now he is actively suicidal. He agrees to teach Rand everything he knows, at the price of some fancy wine. Rand knows exactly how to earn that, and turns on the charm for his landlady. Selene really skeeves me out, for more reasons than just the predatory relationship with a barely legal guy who is clearly very mentally ill. I think it is the way she keeps trying to pretend this is more than a transactional relationship? The way she plays at romance, while still reminding Rand at every turn that she holds all the power? The way she pouts at him when he refuses to play along? I don't know, maybe she just has a sinister personality.

She gets him the wine, and an invitation to a dinner. He makes friends with some older lady who looks like Moiraine in disguise, who snarks at him about how much rich people suck. Okay, Not!Moiraine, way to hypocrite all over the place. Anyways, Rand is incredibly upset to realize the lady that has been preying on him is also preying on other desperate souls, so he runs off to Lizard. Lizard approves of the wine, and delivers the entirety of his advice: accept the madness and eventual death, because there is no way to avoid it. He then returns home where his landlady assaults him, and then they bang. Or maybe he just fell asleep and had a sex dream/hallucination. Either way, he accidentally Mannels, and burns down her inn. She rushes from the flames to find him, and I still get the feeling she's just Off.

Perrin and his friends have all been captured, except his Wolf Buddy who looks like Discount Heimdal. These are apparently the Seachan I have heard so much about. I now realize it is pronounced Shaun John, not See Chan. If there are no special effects from here on out, at least the rest of the budget was well spent on the Shaun John costumes. They are creepy as hell. Nancy Reagan is with them for reasons yet to be explained, and he keeps checking out Perrin. They take the Eyepatch guy up to force him to swear fealty to their throne, and immediately kill him when he refuses. Everyone else submits without question, though Perrin is still angry about it.

At some point he must have been knocked unconscious, because he wakes up alone, chained up in a carriage with Nancy Reagan. This dude is playing jumprope with the line between sweet grandfather and sexual predator. He wolf-baits Perrin, and comes out as the Dark One, which is still a lie. Perrin asks what he wants with him, and Nancy leans in like he is about to kiss him, and says he wants Perrin to be his. GAAAAAAYYYYYY. Heimdal and the wolves break Perrin out, and Perrin wants to rescue the others. Heimdal has another plan. Run away. Perrin follows along, but I sense some complaining in his future. He hates the choices other people make for him, but goes along with them because he still can't handle the thought of being responsible for another major mistake after his last one. Someone should tell him that choosing to follow orders is still a choice, and he is still responsible for the consequences of his choice. I fear he is going to find that out the hard way.

So onto Nynaeve, the heavy hitter of the episode. She is presented with an opportunity to walk through the swamp three arches, where she will face her greatest fears without even the force one power to protect her. If she succeeds, she will become a true Jedi master Accepted Aes Sedai. Her three greatest fears are really all the same fear. Watching people she loves suffer and die and choosing to leave them to their fate rather than fighting to save them. First up is her parents, then the Two Rivers folk, and finally, a brief flash of visions that end with her covered in blood. That last one haunts her so badly that she chooses to leave the tower, run away with Lan, and PSYCH! She was in the arches the entire time. She didn't even notice the archway return for her.

When the arch lit up and faded, the head Aes Sedai all realize she has been lost forever. The Principal of Novice School wallows in guilt, but has enough left over to remind JK Rowling that her self-righteousness won't actually wash away the blood on her hands. JK actually seems to feel shame, which I wasn't sure she was capable of before. She is suddenly more complex than the cardboard cutout lunch room bully she has been up until now. No more likeable, but painfully realistic with her ability to justify any and all actions as a defense against the deep self-loathing she can't afford to face. We all know someone like this. Someone so dedicated to their cause that they can't see the fact that they have become the exact thing they claim to fight against. In this case, She Woman Man Hater, Protector of Girls Everywhere has manipulated and murdered a young woman by treating her as a tool to power, rather than a person. But she doesn't have a penis, so she must still be Good. Right? Right? Her shields are failing. I wonder if she thought she loved Nynaeve, in whatever way her shriveled husk of a soul could comprehend love.

Egwene has recovered from her self-pity sleepover with Elayne, and is committed to appreciating Nynaeve a lot more. She goes to wake her up for school, but finds the Principal there instead. Principal stiffly and woodenly informs Egwene of Nynaeve's death and then walks out, in a way that seems cold to Egwene, but like she is inches from breaking down sobbing to the audience who saw her earlier performance. Elayne tries to comfort Egwene in her sincere, awkward way, but Egwene has just lost her final tie to home, and is not ready to pour her heart out to someone she met yesterday. Read the room, Elayne. Not that you have ever had this skill. Aren't princesses supposed to get etiquette training? She must have failed that class.

JK Rowling does find a way to blame a man after all. She WOULD have prepared Nynaeve properly, if only she hadn't been stuck tormenting Mat for no real reason except that she likes manipulating people. It is really all his fault, for being so manipulable. She releases him, after delivering a scathing rant about her own insecurities projected onto him. Someone in that room is certainly an insidious coward who mistakes their own moral failings for cunning and wallows in self pity. He and Min make a run for it, but Min goes back for a quick chat that serves no purpose except to let us the viewer know she's been working with JK all along.

Egwene goes to the arches, and pours everything she has into opening the archway for Nynaeve, but it just isn't enough. Elayne comes by for a second attempt at comfort. She is able to convince Egwene to stop trying to kill herself by overchanneling at the arches, but promises to sit with her until she's ready to leave. Maybe she CAN learn how humans work after all.

Nynaeve, meanwhile, has been living peacefully in a fantasy similar to Rand's. She and Lan are happily married, with a rambunctious daughter. They live in the Two Rivers with Mat and Perrin, and get letters from the Powerful and Amazing Egwene Sedai. After many happy years, however, her home is invaded by trollocs. She has to hide her daughter in a cellar, while she tries to fight, in a clear parallel to her own memories of losing her parents. The adults do their best, but Mat, Perrin, and Lan all die brutally within seconds of each other. Nynaeve rages so hard that she channels inside the arches. Okay, I understand. Her biggest fear is that being an Aes Sedai will keep her from protecting her loved ones because her duty will come first. She has overcome it by realizing that her power is the one thing that could have saved them all. But now for the final test. Her daughter comes upstairs for a hug, just as the archway appears. Nynaeve knows she must walk through, but she can't abandon her child to her fate. So she gathers up the girl and rushes through, only to emerge empty-handed and covered in blood to a shocked Egwene, who hugs her as she cries. Was that life ever actually real? Is there a world out there where a little girl closed her eyes and trusted her mother to carry her to safety, only to end up helpless and alone against a horde of monsters and the corpses of her family? Nynaeve will never know. Congratulations on becoming an Accepted, and on never knowing peace again.

Other episode reviews

#wot on prime #wheel of time #wot prime s2 #nonreader #wot s2 spoilers #evilphrog reviews

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angelasscribbles · 6 months

Text

Unexpected Chapter 7: Red Flags

Series: Unexpected

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Riley x Maxwell, Riley x Liam

Rating: MA

Warnings: None for this chapter

Word Count: 2,221

My other stuff: Master List.

Liam lay on his back staring up at the ceiling, turmoil swirling through him.

He had finally bedded the American suitor. She was still naked, sleeping innocently beside him as he struggled to reconcile the conflicting emotions she inspired in him.

His moment of vulnerability had been real. His developing feelings for her were also real, but he was leading her on with even the implication that he was going to choose her to marry.

He couldn’t. The council would never approve it, his father would never allow it, and the rest of the nobility would never accept it.

The common people and the press might love her, but she was ill-suited to be queen.

None of the other suitors interested him, it was true, but his interests were never the point. He had tried to be fair, tried to give each woman an equal chance but that ended today. There was no point. She was the one that he wanted, but he would never be allowed to make that choice. Last night everything had seemed so simple, but in the cold, harsh light of day, he knew better.

So, while he was done pretending that any other woman had a chance of taking his heart, his impassioned resolve to choose her for marriage crumbled in the face of reality.

He had to tell her, had to be honest with her. He determined to explain the situation to her immediately but as he glanced down at her sleeping form, refusal to accept his fate surged through him. There had to be a loophole. His mind spun with possibilities, solutions, and avenues that would give him what he wanted. There had to be a way. There was always a way.

He picked up his phone and typed a quick message. She stirred in the bed beside him. Tossing the phone aside, he rolled back toward her just as her eyes fluttered open. He smiled at her with genuine warmth. There was no reason to spoil the night they had just shared, especially when there might be a way around all of it.

He ran a hand down the side of her cheek, “Good morning, my love.”

“Mm,” she stretched her entire body before responding, “Good morning.”

God in heaven, why did she have to look so damn good lying in his bed? Like she belonged there. He placed a gentle kiss on her cheek before telling her, “As much as I’d love to stay here with you, I have a meeting to get to. But please, stay as long as you like. I’ll let the guards know to bring you whatever you require. Breakfast, a change of clothes, whatever you need.”

He would give her the world if he could.

“Are you sure you can’t spare a few minutes?” She purred as her arms wrapped around his neck and her body arched into his.

His entire body exploded with heat in response, “I can be late….”

Forty minutes later he was out the door of his suite, humming happily as he made his way to the monthly budget meeting.

He hurried through his morning engagements distractedly, impatient for the only meeting that mattered. The most important one of the day, perhaps of his life.

Just after his luncheon with the Prime Minister of Italy, the answers he’d been waiting for all day arrived.

They were not the answers he had hoped for.

“You can’t marry her,” Drake slapped a manilla folder down on the desk in front of him, “You asked me to look into her background, I looked. She has a criminal record! Even if the council could overlook her commoner status, they won’t, and shouldn’t overlook her history of scamming and fleecing romantic partners.”

“No,” Liam shook his head in denial as he pulled the folder closer, “The initial background check would have found that!”

“Well, technically she’s never been convicted of anything. But I went beyond the initial check. You said to do a deep dive, so I did a deep dive. She’s had more than one complaint lodged against her by people she scammed out of their money.”

“She’s a con artist?” Liam flipped through the file quickly.

“Specifically, she targets men and women with a little bit of wealth. Takes them for what she can get financially, wipes out their bank accounts then disappears. I’m sorry, Li. I know you really liked her. But I doubt her being our waitress that night was an accident.”

“No,” he shook his head again as he closed the file and pushed it back across the desk, “No one knew we were there; she had no way of knowing who I was-“

“Come on, man,” Drake scoffed, “She didn’t have to know you were a prince to know you were loaded. Your high-end clothing, that Rolex on your wrist, Tariq whining for filet mignon…”

“Perhaps. But it couldn’t have been pre-planned. You chose that restaurant at the last second.”

Drake held his hands up in front of him, “All right. I’ll concede that it wasn’t premeditated. But when she realized you had money….”

“But she knew that it was only for one night. She could not have predicted Max asking her to come back with us.”

“No. But when he asked, she sure jumped at the chance, didn’t she?”

“But she couldn’t have known ahead of time that was going to happen. So, what happened between us in New York was real, Drake, I know it was!”

“Even if it was, there’s no way you can marry her. The optics-“

“The press loves her. We can bury this.”

“Look, I get it,” Drake softened at the desperation in Liam’s voice, “Leo had to abdicate the damn throne so we could be together. But-“

“Can it be suppressed?”

“Maybe. But if it ever comes to light, it will do irreparable damage to your reputation. I don’t think it’s a risk worth taking. Especially since she’s probably only playing you for your money. What happens if she marries you then absconds with millions from Cordonia’s coffers?”

Liam’s body sagged heavily into the leather upholstery of his chair as he considered the repercussions. He had to put Cordonia first no matter his own feelings.

Was she really faking everything?

He could handle the nobility; council members could be bribed. His father would be the biggest obstacle to a union with the American.

But he couldn’t marry her if she was only after his money. He couldn’t risk Cordonia, or his heart, like that.

Drake’s voice drew him out of his musings, “Besides that, I’m pretty sure there’s something going on between her and Beaumont.”

Liam’s head snapped up, his brows furrowing, “Bertrand?”

“No,” Drake snorted, “Maxwell.”

Liam sat up straight in his chair, steepling his fingers and bringing them to his lips, “Why do you think that?”

“They’re always together. He acts weird around her-“

“You always think he’s weird.”

“Weirder than usual. And he’s at her door at all hours of the day and night.”

“His house is sponsoring her.”

“It is,” Drake rubbed his eyes with a sigh, “I have no proof. Just my gut instinct.”

Liam tapped his lips as he thought, “He does have a history of being….inappropriate with women at times.”

“At times?” Drake snorted, “Okay.”

“Do you think he’s been harassing her?”

Drake’s mouth fell open, “That’s what you got out of this conversation?”

“No one deserves to be harassed, Drake.”

“No, of course not! I just meant….” He looked up at the ceiling as if beseeching the almighty for intervention, “Fine. I’ll look into it.”

“Thank you. You’re a good friend.”

“Yep,” he muttered under his breath as he rose, “I’ll make sure the scammer isn’t being harassed by the pervert that brought her here.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

Liam checked his watch. He had ten minutes before his next appointment. Pulling his phone from his jacket pocket, he sent a text to Riley asking her to meet him after the official Suitors Dinner Regina had scheduled for the evening.

He got an immediate response. He always did. Was that because she was falling for him or because she was playing him? He needed answers, and he intended to get them.

Riley breezed down the hallway in the suitor's wing of the palace, still on a high from her time with Liam. After a little earth-shattering morning sex, she had ordered a decadent breakfast of raspberry crêpes, rashers, and a ham and cheese soufflé and then taken her time eating it, savoring every bite.

She had taken Liam up on his offer and sent the guards for her favorite bath products and a change of clothes from the palace boutique. After a long leisurely bath in the impossibly huge soaking tub in the royal suite, she had booked an appointment at the palace spa. Her nails had needed a touch-up. She had gotten in immediately.

Yes, she thought as she made her way back to her room, a girl could get used to this life. She was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn’t see him until he spoke, “Where were you last night?”

She slid her eyes sidewise at him, “None of your business.”

Max matched her pace, keeping his body as close behind hers as he could without actually touching her, his hands shoved into his pockets to keep himself from touching her, “But you never came back after your meeting with Bert.”

“I came back.”

“To the palace maybe, but not to your own room.”

She stopped outside her door, and he stumbled into her. Turning to face him, she pinched his cheeks between her fingers and leaned close, “We need to have a talk about boundaries, Max.”

She turned back to open her door then pulled him through and closed it.

At the end of the hall and around the corner, a figure watched them from the shadows.

Drake’s brows were drawn together in a frown. Maybe Liam was right. Maybe Max was being creepy with her. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time he’d been inappropriate with a woman. If he were a commoner instead of a son of the nobility, his ass would have been in a jail cell long ago. But his brother always managed to dig him out of trouble somehow. Bribery most likely.

Surely Bertrand would want to know if his brother was harassing their sponsee. He turned on his heel and headed toward the duke’s room.

Bertrand’s head lifted from the copy of Civility: Manners, Morals and the Etiquette of Democracy that had him thoroughly engrossed as an incessant pounding noise issued from the door of his room. With a sigh, he placed a bookmark between the pages, carefully closed the tome, and sat it on the end table with meticulous precision, ensuring it could not be knocked off by a careless passerby.

He rose from his seated position and took a moment to smooth his clothing out. One never wanted to look rumpled or unkempt, after all. He crossed the room unhurriedly and pulled the door open slowly. His eyes widened as he took in his visitor. “Sir Drake! What are you-“

“Can I come in? It’s kinda important,” Drake shoved past him without waiting for an answer.

“By all means,” Bertrand grumbled as he moved aside, “Why wait for an invitation?”

“Don’t need one.”

“It is my room-“

“In Liam’s palace,” Drake reminded him drily, “Do you want to know what your brother’s up to or do you want me to just report him to-“

“No, no, no!” Bertrand closed the door quickly before anyone happening by could overhear, “Please…” he gestured toward the scattered seating before squeezing his eyes shut as he pinched the bridge of his nose, “What has he done now?”

Drake didn’t bother to sit as he dove in without preamble, “He’s been harassing Riley.”

Bertrand froze as his eyes popped open. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I overheard him questioning her about her whereabouts last night and when she told him it was none of his business, he pressed the issue, and she told him they needed to have a discussion about boundaries.”

“Where was she last night?”

“That doesn’t matter. The point is-“

“Was she with Liam?” Bertrand tried to suppress the glee in his tone.

“I’m not here to divulge Liam’s business. Are you going to put a leash on your brother or do I need to do it?”

“No need for that. I’ll handle it. Thank you for bringing this to my attention.”

“Yeah…sure,” Drake started for the door, pausing with his hand on the knob, he turned back to Bertrand, “By the way…how much do you know about her past?”

“Lady Riley?”

“No, Queen Regina. Yes, Lady Riley!”

“Just that she was your waitress in New York and shared some kind of adventure with the prince. Why do you ask?”

Drake regarded him critically for several long seconds as Bertrand’s body twitched and his eyes darted around the room, landing everywhere but his face.

He was lying.

“No reason.” Drake exited the room and then stood in the hallway outside Bertrand’s door contemplating the duke’s deception. What was he hiding?

He didn’t know, but he was damn sure going to find out.

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dont-mind-if-i-slytherin · 6 months

Text

Hot take on final episode

Spolier warning!!! Last chance!

I'm not even mad about Izzy. It was sad, and I'm upset that he's died. It does make sense storytelling wise, and if I was the writer, I probably would have made the same choice, I did see it coming, but thought they might not do it because of the whole subverting gay tropes and this does seem a little 'bury the gay'... Izzy had finally accepted himself, could move on and be happy and he dies... but I get it. I understand why they did it.

However, I will say i wish they did it differently. It was a random ass bullet shot, it wasn't even aiming at him properly, it was chance, total bad luck. I guess it was for the shock factor, and how sudden things can happen during battle, and for a comedy/drama, it is still a pirate show, so people will get hurt and they will die, but I would have loved to see something more meaningful for Izzy's character development. We spent an entire season working through his trauma and acceptance journey, and it just feels a little.. anti climatic.

I would have loved for there to be a parallel from season 1, a show down with the British, Ricky shoots the gun at Stede, Ed is to far away this time, and Izzy jumps in front of him. It would bring his arc full circle, accepting Stede as family, approving of his relationship with Ed, and understanding that Stede makes Ed better, and while last season he gave him up to the British, here he is saving him, because he knows that without Stede, Ed may fall back into that dark path he was on and he wants to save Ed (and the crew) from that. It would have been a nice contrast of him helping break them up, and nearly dying from it, to dying to ensure they can be happy together.

I would have also accepted him maybe sacrificing himself for Lucius, the one he had a lot of tension with, because of his own self hatred reflected in seeing Lucius as everything he felt like he could not be, open, caring and gay without no fucks to give. Him then saving Lucius would have been a nod to him coming to terms with that in himself, that he doesn't have to be this angry hateful person, and also saving him now when last season his words and actions had a domino effect which led to lucius being pushed of the ship and a lot of trauma, so being a nice little parallel.

I wish we had more episodes, but they did amazing with what they had. There were pacing issues but that wasn't the fault of the writers, it was getting a rubbish budget and 8 half an hour episodes. I hope for a season 3, and I really really hope Con is still in it, even if he is Ed, Stede's or Lucius' ghost just making snarky comments behind them for the entire season.

Anyway, thank you for reading my Ted Talk!

#ofmd spoilers #our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd izzy #izzy hands #stede bonnet #edward teach #lucius spriggs #ofmd season 2 #blackbonnet #con o'neill

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literaticat · 3 days

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With parents/guardians regulating (I hate the word but I think it's accurate) what they want kids to have access to, it makes libraries and the poor librarians have to fall in line and carry what only certain parents 'approve of' (to the detriment of us all). And publishers and writers might not take chances on books they know might be banned or challenged.

Sooo how much power/influence do publishers really have? I mean in society and pop culture, I guess. I feel like publishers are beholden to everyone no matter what side of the political spectrum you fall on.

And that old adage 'if you try to please everyone you will please no one' is starting to really be the truth. The recent Scholastic fiasco comes to mind.

(so sorry in advance this turned into a lengthy rant that doesn't answer the question) (but then again, I am not even sure I get what the question part is, so OH WELL, strap in for some book ban talk!)

A very small minority of unhinged, ridiculous parents and horrific politicians are actually trying to ruin schools and libraries for everyone. I mean:

Louisiana has current legislation that would criminalize libraries joining the American Library Association. (ie, yes, a librarian could be ARRESTED AND SENTENCED TO TWO YEARS HARD LABOR what the actual fuck???)

Utah has a law that allows any district to pull any book that any other district has pulled

Florida "moms for liberty" (LOL - FU) are trying to have librarians arrested -- Again and again -- etc etc --

I could keep going but I actually have to work at my job THWARTING BOOK BANNERS today!

So just for what it's worth -- I don't think most librarians want to or are "falling in line" and bowing to these parents. Librarians, hopefully, want to make a library that has a collection of material that will best serve all their patrons. And it truly is a very small number of patrons that launch these bizarre campaigns against books.

They do have budgets though, which are also being slashed in many cases, and obviously if they know that their particular community leans toward a certain mindset, they might make choices that reflect that when curating their collection, sure. But yeah -- all the librarians I know are big fans of free speech and freedom to read, and are willing to go to bat for that -- that's why some places are going so far as to pass LITERAL LAWS against librarians, because short of that, librarians are tough to stop!

I would say, too -- Publishers are not trying to "avoid bans" (I mean they aren't ENCOURAGING them either obviously!) -- but in my experience, they simply don't think that way when deciding what to acquire. They can't, because the fact is, it doesn't MATTER what the book is about. A book doesn't have to have "scandalous content" for people to want to ban it -- PICTURE BOOKS are being taken off shelves -- books with themes like embracing your own beauty. Or making stew with neighbors. Lots of times books are challenged for pretty blatantly racist reasons -- no reason at all, actually, other than a BIPOC person wrote it so it must have "critical race theory" (???) in it. For reals.

(Also -- these "banners" / "moms for liberty" aren't READING the books. It is a few people using canned language that somebody else came up with to paper objections to books across districts where they don't even have children. I'd argue that whoever is pulling the strings here doesn't actually even care about ANY of this -- they are using some batshit people who have too much time on their hands to just heap school districts and public libraries with challenges about every last thing because they want it to become so difficult and annoying that the librarians and library boards just give up. They want all libraries and schools to be privatized. I dunno - follow the money.)

Ugh. Again -- this is probably not answering your question??? Sorry, and I really do have to stop typing now. I guess my point is :

Publishers are beholden, in some cases, to their shareholders -- but really, to readers at the end of the day -- most readers want freedom to read and the free exchange of ideas and freedom of speech, etc -- those are the people who pay for books -- so that's who publishers cater to.

Librarians are mostly pretty staunch advocates for free speech and freedom to read, and publishers are supporting them as well.

Writers hopefully, same!

(In the case of the "Scholastic Fiasco" -- Scholastic wasn't trying to bow to nasty parents, exactly -- they were trying to protect the educators who might get harassed, fired, or potentially arrested by those nasty parents. Unfortunately, as you say, it blew up, because you can't have it both ways, etc etc.)

I really do have to go now sorry I couldn't solve book banning this morning :-/

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scarletslippers · 5 months

Text

Nace Countdown to Christmas - Day 10

(From this post of relationship milestone prompts)

On AO3

first vacation together

“We have to figure this out tonight. If we wait any longer to plan this, you’ll have another case on your plate or Connor will decide to un-approve my time off.”

Nancy sets down the red pen she was using to mark up the map spread across the kitchen table. “Well, with the limitations of ‘only three days’ and our tiny budget, there’s not a lot of options.”

“What about Boston?”

“Sin eater.”

“D.C.?”

“Sin eaters,” Nancy says, emphasizing the plural. “Also too expensive.”

“Come on, there has to be somewhere.”

“Look, I didn’t make the ‘no sin eater’ rule. That was all you. It severely limits the choices.”

Ace sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Can you blame me?”

“No.” She smiles softly, her face turning thoughtful. “What about Portland?”

He scoffs. “That hardly counts as a vacation.”

“It’s close by, so we could take full advantage of our three days. A man who owns a bed and breakfast there owes me a favor.”

“But there’s nothing to do there.”

Nancy’s smile swells into a wicked grin. “Exactly. We wouldn’t have to leave the room.”

#nace #nace fanfiction #nancy drew cw #cw nancy drew #nace countdown to christmas 2023 #my fic #nancy and ace #petition to let them spend 3 days in bed. they deserve it.

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crackedpumpkin · 2 months

Text

|| ʙᴀᴅ ɴᴇᴡꜱ || 08 ||

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ] | [ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

“No.”

Ren, the student council president looks at you with a sigh, having skimmed through the proposal you handed to him in the morning. He places it down on his desk, pinching the space between his brows and massaging it with a grimace. “I already told you that the school won’t let this run.”

Ever since Hiro had suggested the idea to you, it’d taken root in your mind, planting new ideas here and there until you made a whole proposal, PowerPoint presentation and all you’d used to persuade Leo to be on your side. Suffice it to say it worked.

The urgent article had been published without issue, but it quickly got edited to put the school in a good light by Ren. It’d taken a little over a week to put everything together, but now you’re ready. The proposal is bulletproof.

“But,” You raise a suggestive brow, “you and I both know that you want this to be printed.” He pauses, barely opening an eye to give you a frosty stare. You simply smile widely in return, knowing full well that regardless of how much the students and teachers like him, or how well-off he is, he doesn’t like how the school operates.

“Look,” You sit down on the armchair reserved for special guests in the spacious lounge, glancing down at another paper with words underlined in prominent red ink. A slight squint reveals that they’re all things that can be improved on in the school, with your journalism club being given more of the school’s budget. “I don’t like whatever the school’s doing, and I sure as hell don’t know why you’re still here when your parents could’ve transferred you elsewhere,” a slight narrowing of his eyes makes you skip over that subject quickly, “but the journalism club was made to give the students a voice.”

You can sense him considering your words, so you barrel on, not intending to stop. Hiro had given you a match, and you’d be damned if it isn’t going to start a fire. “So many students agree with me about the school’s stupid measures, and they won’t even listen unless we do something about it! Are you ready to watch everyone be denied their bathroom rights? What if someone’s still pooping and the lights turn off? They’d be terrified!”

“Those are the examples you chose to go with?” He raises a brow. You wince.

“Okay, maybe not the best ones to start with. But think about it. If we publish this and make sure it gets out there, they’ll listen. They won’t have a choice, right? And I’ll be sure not to credit you in it in case it goes wrong - which it won’t,” You quickly add, watching his nose scrunch.

He’s silent, staring down at the proposal where you’d outlined all the benefits and reasons why you should do this. You’re not sure whether to move; it feels as if though as soon as you do, he’d shoot it down faster than before. The ticking of the clock above the whiteboard is almost ominous, but the rhythmic sound clams you somewhat. You’re confident in this; confident that you’ll be able to convince him.

All you need is a moment. A moment of hesitation, a moment of recognition, a moment of acknowledgement that you have something solid. And as soon as you spot it, you lunge.

— — — — —

You slam open the doors to the journalism clubroom with an air of victory. Leo turns around in his spinny chair at the sound, eyes wide and jaw dropped in excitement.

“You didn’t…”

“Oh yes, yes I did.” Your wide grin is starting to hurt your cheeks, but this doesn’t phase you in the slightest, marching over to him and staring him down. “I just got Ren’s stuffy butt to approve our proposal. You and I? We’re gonna head this together.”

Leo takes off his glasses, wiping them as he ponders for a moment. “Don’t you have work? Are you sure it’s a good idea to juggle everything, including school?”

“I’ll be fine,” you wave off his concerns, sitting down in your own designated spinny chair in the mildly cramped room and turning on your computer. “First, we gotta plan this out.”

“Not now you won’t,” he snorts, getting up from his seat and walking to the door. He opens it, pausing in the doorway. “Your shift starts in thirty minutes. It takes you twenty to reach there from here.”

“Oh crap, you’re right. I’ll call Cass. Thanks!” You race out the doorway, grabbing your bag on the way. Leo shakes his head with a disapproving sigh, though a hint of an amused smile ghosts his lips.

It does in fact take about twenty minutes to reach the Lucky Cat Cafe. Well, nineteen minutes and thirty seconds to be exact. But who’s counting?

Apparently Hiro Hamada.

He’s already waiting for you at the counter with an apron on and a toothy smile that immediately drops when he sees you. “About time you got here,” he grumbles, passing the apron to you. “It’s been a nightmare.”

“Aw, did Cass drag the gremlin out of his cave?” You say in mock pity with pursed lips, dropping your voice to a whisper. “It’s you. You’re the gremlin I’m talking about.”

“Wow, that’s a salary deduction. Maybe twenty percent.”

You hold your hand over your heart in mock offence, having stashed your bag under the counter. “Not twenty percent!” You drop to your knees, the devastating news crushing your soul as he stares down at you with a smug smile.

The both of you hold this charade for a few more seconds before a twitch of his lips makes you both dissolve into laughter. You get back up from the floor, leaning against the counter. Luckily, there aren’t many customers around that you have to attend to. The only people are the regulars, like Miss Darcy from down the road and Tom from the bookstore. They both merely chuckle, used to this behaviour by now.

Rifling through your bag, the smile drops from your face when you realise the shirt you’d brought along to change into is suspiciously absent. Textbooks? Check. Pencil case? Check. Snacks in case you get hungry? Check.

Everything is there but your shirt. Clearing your throat, you glance up at Hiro who’s making a drink for himself. “So…” You start, noting the stiffening of his shoulders.

“What do you want?” He asks warily. Sometimes your requests ranged from borrowing a pen to dismantling his precious megabot. The latter was done under his strict supervision, of course.

“I kinda, forgot to, maybe, bring my shirt…?”

He turns around with his mug in hand, scanning you up and down to figure out if you’re lying. Judging from your sheepish grin, you’re not. “Follow me.” He sighs. The both of you head to his room after placing a sign at the counter saying you’d be back in five minutes.

Something’s different, you realise, upon entering. Hiro’s side is well-lit, having finally drawn the curtains and allowing the natural sunlight to enter and illuminate the room in a warm glow. His desk is mysteriously tidied up, all his blueprints arranged in a corner next to his notebooks. You watch him go through his drawers, taking a sip from the drink you’d bugged him to let you try until he relented.

Huh. It’s fizzy yuzu tea. You’re unsurprised by this odd combination, quickly figuring out how he managed to make it. It’s nice. Taking a few more sips, you notice the absence of his brother. He must be at SFIT again, probably working on Baymax.

“Here.” You’re interrupted from your thoughts, taking the shirt Hiro hands to you. “Bathroom’s down the hall.” You hand him back his drink which he happily takes, sipping away at the same place your lips touched.

Oh. That’s an indirect kiss.

You shake your head, dismissing those silly thoughts before heading to the bathroom and quickly changing into his shirt.

Indirect kiss? So what?

His shirt is more comfortable than you thought. You recognise the logo on the front belonging to a famous YouTube channel. The shirt itself is a faded red, resting loosely on your shoulders.

Exiting the bathroom, you fold your shirt up and tuck it securely under your arm before approaching Hiro. He tilts his head upon seeing you, nodding approvingly. “I was worried it wouldn’t fit.”

You arch a brow. “Really? It fits like a charm. It’s a little loose on the shoulders though, you pig.” The effect of your words turn out the way you intend them to, grinning widely as he scoffs.

“Return it then.”

“Sorry, can’t hear you! Busy working!” You call out, slowly making your way down the stairs. However, a thought occurs to you and you pause, poking your head back into sight before he heads back to his room. “On a totally unrelated note, do you know where Cass is?”

“What do I get in return for being your informant?” He crosses his arms. Your shoulders slump, glaring at him.

“Very funny Hamada. Cute move. Where’s Cass?”

He only smirks in response. “Bold of you to assume I’m joking.”

“I’ll just call her.”

“Wait!” You’re interrupted from unlocking your phone, Hiro running a hand through his hair in defeat. “She’s at the grocery store. I think she’s coming back soon.” A victorious chuckle slips from your lips, pocketing your phone.

“Thanks Hamada, ‘preciate it.”

The shift in the cafe is as usual, though you keep an eye out for Cass. Once she returns, she invites you to dinner once more, citing a new recipe she wanted to try. You agreed eagerly, planning to ask her about your request for some adjusted shifts afterwards.

Once the cafe has been wiped down, dishes cleaned, and the ‘Open’ sign flipped to close, it’s time for dinner. You’re making your way up the stairs when you hear the door open and shut behind you, turning around to see Tadashi putting aside his umbrella and taking off his shoes.

“Oh hey, didn’t know you were having dinner with us tonight.” He says, surprised when he sees you. He hands you another pair of house shoes that you accept graciously, slipping off your sneakers.

“Yeah, Cass invited me again. You guys should take this out of my pay y’know.” You chuckle warmly, slowly walking up the stairs with him. He laughs along with you, but his eyes widen slightly upon noticing something. He looks at you oddly, tilting his head.

“Is that Hiro’s shirt?” You look down at it, suddenly feeling self-conscious and tugging on the hem.

“I forgot to bring mine, and he lent me this one.” You spot the smirk playing on Tadashi’s face, scowling as you punch his arm lightly. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

He rubs his arm with another chuckle, reaching the top of the stairs. “Sure, sure it doesn’t.” You spot Hiro setting the table, Cass busy stirring a pot. The younger Hamada acknowledges your presence with a nod, Tadashi checking on the chicken in the oven.

You slide into your seat beside Hiro’s. Your seat is now a designated spot at the table, Cass claiming that you’re over for dinner often enough to have your own space. “Hey,” you greet when he sits down, handing him his fork that had somehow made its way onto your plate.

“How’s the article?” The question catches you off guard, surprised that he’d remembered even telling you about it. He spots your incredulous smile, offering a small one of his own. “I’m taking that as bad news.”

“Actually,” you begin, unable to suppress your excitement, “I got Ren to agree to the proposal and he’s gonna turn a blind eye for now. We’re gonna start by asking people to do our survey and compile the information, then get signatures for a petition! Ooo, maybe the art club might wanna do some posters or something.” In your enthusiasm, you fail to notice Cass and Tadashi exchanging looks, quietly beginning to eat while Hiro listens intently.

“That sounds good, how long do you think it’ll take before teachers shut you down?”

Propping your elbow up, you rest your cheek on your hand with a huff. “As if. They’re too busy sucking up to the principal and Ren’s parents to even care. If not for all those donations his parents made, maybe they’d be serious about teaching us.”

“Tell me,” he points his fork at you, “have you ever considered embezzlement?”

“Aand that’s a conversation for another day.” Tadashi interrupts against his own will, reaching out and roughly messing up Hiro’s hair. The victim looks up with a scoff, stabbing his fork into a piece of chicken on his plate.

Huh. Jokingly as it was said, you’d never actually considered that before. What if…?

Nah. You shake your head, ignoring the suspicion that sneaks its way into your mind. For now, dinner is the priority. Surprisingly enough, conversations are civil and the atmosphere is light-hearted.

“Looks like it’s your turn to do the dishes,” Hiro calls out, standing in front of the sofa and allowing himself to fall back with a loud ‘oof’. You casually kick his leg that’s dangling off the armrest, making your way to the kitchen.

“Thanks, honey,” Cass greets warmly when you approach the basin. She closes the fridge door, a bowl of washed grapes in her hands. “I’m gonna go binge my drama now, so be careful on the way back! I’ll get Hiro to walk you home.” She narrows her eyes as soon as you part your lips to decline, her pointed look enough for you to merely nod in response.

Gotta hand it to Cass, she’s the best boss you’ve ever had. Working at the Lucky Cat cafe is the best blessing the universe has decided to give you, and there’s no way you’re ever going to let them down. Tadashi saunters over, nudging your side.

Pausing your dishwashing to briefly raise your brow, suggesting a silent ‘What’s up’ makes him smile. He nods to Hiro who’s going down the stairs. “Do me a favour and make sure he doesn’t spend too long in the garage. I know you don’t have school tomorrow, kid. Stay over if it gets too late.”

“Sure.” You shrug off the dishwashing duties to Tadashi, following Hiro out the door and into the garage. It’s still as tech-chic as ever, the stunning glow of the vending machine they have overshadowing all the other cool gadgets.

“I can’t believe you still have to pay for your snacks.” You muse, your sudden presence startling Hiro. he flinches at the sound of your voice, his hand gripping his chest with wide eyes.

“You have got to stop doing that.” He sits down, turns on the lights above his desk and begins to solder wires. You pull up another spinny chair and roll over to him, peering over his shoulder with intrigue.

“What’s that?”

Apparently, he quickly forgets people are around because he flinches once more. “Seriously?” He calms down quickly and sets down his soldering gun, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “Get a bell.”

“So spill,” you ignore his disbelieving splutter, prodding at the headband on his desk. “What’s this all about then?”

He sighs, perhaps sensing that you’re not going to leave anytime soon. “It’s the headband you suggested last time. It controls the microbots, but currently…” He lifts the headband and plops it onto his head. You watch it light up, turning your head when you hear something crawling toward you.

A river of microbots is slowly but surely approaching. You prop your feet up on the chair seat, sitting cross-legged in fascination as Hiro focuses. Once they reach both of you, they move into a large pile before promptly collapsing in on itself and scattering all over the floor.

“That’s all I got so far.” You look back to see the headband back on the desk, Hiro hunching over and resuming his soldering. “But it won’t take long for me to figure it out. I’m probably like, halfway done?”

You don’t reply. He doesn’t notice your silence, but it feels as if you’re already drowning. You drop your gaze to the floor, eyes fixed on a small stain that’s been there since the first time he’d introduced you to his workspace.

Moments like these suck. As much as he forgets that you’re there sometimes, you always forget that he’s a child prodigy — someone so smart, so capable of doing anything that you often wonder why he’s still here. Still in San Fransokyo, going to bot fights and working at this cafe.

And then there’s you. A scrappy teenager who’s still in a school that probably has corrupted teachers. A random spokesperson in the journalism club, just someone who started writing as an escape mechanism and ended up liking it so much she wanted to be a journalist.

You’re nobody compared to him.

Hiro must’ve sensed something off. You’re snapped back into reality when he coughs awkwardly, having swivelled around in his seat and is now looking at you with a hint of concern in his eyes.

Realising you’d been staring blankly at the floor for probably a while now, you force a smile back onto your face. “Is there, like, a spider on my face? Or are you just mesmerised by my charm?”

The concern in his eyes is instantly replaced by disgust, reaching out a hand to shove you away. A genuine giggle from you does make him crack a smile though. “There’s a spider on your face.”

“Don’t even joke about that.” You punch his arm lightly, feeling at ease from his reaction. “Hey,” you tap his shoulder, noticing a date on his calendar that’s circled in red. “You didn’t tell me Tadashi’s birthday is next week.”

“You never asked.”

“Very funny, Hamada,” you reply grouchily, straightening up in your seat. “Have you gotten his birthday gift yet?”

“I’ll get him the same thing: a massage coupon and a coupon of servitude.” He shrugs, having gotten used to your habit of fiddling with the contraptions on his desk when you’re thinking. You roll a screw between your fingers, shooting him a sceptical glance. “Hey, he loves it!” He states defensively.

“I haven’t gotten him anything,” you grumble, setting down the screw and taking a random wire he hands you. “Wait, are you free this weekend?”

“I think so- wait, why are you asking?” He looks down at you with a raised brow, already suspicious. You scoff, crossing your arms and discarding the wire back onto his table which he nonchalantly sweeps into the small trash bin right next to you.

You cross your hands, before remembering that you’re about to ask him a favour. “Could you come with me to the mall so I can buy a present for Tadashi?”

“He’ll love anything you get him.” Hiro leans back in his seat, stating an obvious fact. You roll your eyes.

“I know that, genius. That’s why I wanna get him an actual good gift. God knows he hasn’t had one from you in years.” The offended look on his face makes your eyes widen, clearing your throat. “I mean, not that massage coupons and servitude aren’t good gifts, but I was thinking of something else. Besides, he kinda…saved my life. I would’ve been homeless without his offer. I owe him.” Your voice goes a little quieter, almost as if admitting to yourself that truly, you wouldn’t be here without his help.

“Fine,” You look up to see Hiro place his soldering gun down and turn to face you properly. “I’ll go with you this weekend if,” He holds up his phone, the screen filled with a picture of a new movie that’s just come out. “We watch Iron Man.”

“Looks like you got yourself a deal.”

— — — — —

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shayewrites · 1 year

Text

may i have this dance?

synopsis: slow dancing with erwin before a formal fundraiser l hosted by the scouts. extreme fluff, read at your own risk gn!reader

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You weren’t aware that Headquarters could look so charming. Strings of lanterns illuminated the the usually dark mess hall along with banners depicting the wings of freedom that adorned each of the walls, serving as a reminder to each guest, officer, and staff that soon would fill the open space of the purpose for such an occasion.

“All of this for a fundraiser for the Scouts?” Captain Levi grumbled from where he stood next to you, “Seems a little excessive if you ask me.” You knew his comments were not directed at the hard work you and the rest of Levi Squad had put into cleaning and decorating the mess hall for such an occasion, but his sharp criticism still stung.

“Perhaps,” you replied to the captain’s skepticism, “but it isn’t soldiers we’re wanting to impress after all.” You couldn’t deny that some of the preparations were a little overboard, particularly the food budget that you had allotted for the cooking staff, but each detail of this event was crafted to impress, to emulate the power and strength of the Survey Corps to possible donors and supporters.

Levi huffed at your reply, unamused by your light-hearted attempt to brighten his outlook towards the fundraising event, “Right, it’s those fat merchants in the interior who throw money to the wind all for the sake of status.” He sighed, his eyes narrowing as he glared at the floor beneath his feet, “I don’t see why we try to gain their approval in the first place. They seem content to hide behind the safety of the walls like cowards.”

You understood his general distaste for the guests of tonight’s banquet. It seemed impractical to have the officers of the Survey Corps spend a whole evening shaking hands with and accumulating the support of nobles who seemed to care less about their cause. If given the choice, you knew the captain would undoubtedly find something more proactive to do with his time rather than appease the nobles, but as ‘humanity’s strongest soldier’ it would be viewed as impolite for him not to make at least a brief appearance. After all, he had become the face of the Survey Corps nearly overnight.

He shook his head at the very thought of the banquet tonight, opting to take his leave while he still had the chance. He ghosted a hand on your shoulder as he walked by, “You did a good job, kid. I’m sure those pigs will be tripping over themselves to donate to the cause once they see this place.”

His words were meant to be taken as an encouragement, but his tone lacked sincerity. “Levi,” you called after him, “look, I know how you feel about all of this but just try to-”

He didn’t spare you a glance as he continued towards the exit, “I’m going to touch base with Hange and the others.”

After the captain took his leave, you continued to place the final touches around the venue. You greeted the musicians that you had hired for the evening and hummed along to a few of their pieces as they warmed up, but even with the pleasant distraction, you couldn’t help the frown that crossed your lips as you thought back to your conversation with Levi. It wasn’t that he was wrong to be wary of those who lived a life of luxury in the interior. Any other time, you’d find yourself in agreement with him, but the Scouts depended on their funding to support their expeditions outside the walls. It wasn’t ideal, but what other choice did they have?

You were so engrossed in your thoughts that you nearly jumped at the familiar, husky voice of the commander coming from behind you, “Something wrong, y/n?”

“N-no, sir! Everything seems to be going according to plan.” You were quick to reply, your shoulders visibly tensing at the commander’s presence. “It’s just-” You trailed off, returning to the thoughts swirling around in your mind.

“It’s just-” Erwin prodded when you unexpectedly paused mid-thought.

You started to finish your statement but decided otherwise. Better not to dwell on the captain’s negative outlook on the fundraiser, you thought to yourself. Instead, you replied, “Forgive me for thinking so negatively, commander, but events like these aren’t truly meant for soldiers or common folks like ourselves. They’re meant for those with power to boast, those with money to flaunt, and those with status to parade around. While I can’t particularly say I’m jealous of those things, sometimes I can’t help but wonder what it might be like to be something more than a soldier, something more than just a scout. I wonder what it might be like to dance without a care for the titans that lurk just beyond the safety of the walls.”

“Something more?” he repeated distantly, his thick eyebrows furrowing in thought as he spoke.

Almost immediately, you started to retract your statements, finding them to be rather childish as you spoke them aloud. “I don’t know,” you murmured, “I’m sure I’m just spouting nonsense at this point.” You were quick to redirect, flipping through your checklist once more, “While you’re here, let’s go over the guest list again to-”

You were taken by surprise as Erwin’s hand lightly pushed the clipboard down from where you were gripping it with white knuckles, “I think that can wait for now. Don’t you think? There’s something I’d like to show you first.”

“Sir?” you asked, confused by his sudden change in tone

Deep within his sky blue eyes hid a daring mischief that you found to be enticingly terrifying as he held out his hand for you. He had something planned. You knew it, but in that moment, you couldn’t even begin to imagine what crazy idea he might have in store for you next. “Take my hand,” he offered, “Let me show you how it feels to be ‘something more’.”

You were hesitant at first, but you soon found your hand enveloped by his own, feeling the rough callouses that lined his palm from years of ODM use. He led the pair of you towards the dancefloor in the center of the mess hall where the musicians were finishing their warm ups, now playing through a few of their pieces before the guests arrived. With your hands still intertwined with his own, he started to bring you closer, swaying you both in time with the music. Suddenly realizing what the commander had in mind, you pulled away with a light blush starting to dust your cheeks and the tips of your ears, “Erwin, I can’t…I-I don’t know how to dance.”

You expected him to scoff, to leave you standing in the center of the mess hall like the fool you were. However, instead of pushing you away or dropping your hands, he held them tighter in his grasp, using one hand to lift your chin so that you could meet his gaze and see the gentle assurance that shone in his blue irises, “That’s alright. Just follow my lead.”

You both started slow and steady, simply swaying to the music in the background as you started to grow accustomed to his movements. You both stayed that way until one of his hands began to trail down to your torso, resting just above your hip as he effectively pulled you closer to his body. “Is this alright?” he asked, his breath fanning across your face as he spoke.

With a nod, you allowed him to pull you flush against him as you once again began to sway, starting to spin in a small circle around the hall. Your eyes closed in bliss for a moment, relishing in the strong hands that guided your movements and the lingering scent of pine that came from the commander as he glanced down to you with a look of adoration. You were so entranced by this moment that you missed how you voiced your thoughts aloud, “So this is what it feels like.”

“Mhmm” Erwin hummed in response, taking note of the way you nearly jumped at his response. You clearly hadn’t meant to say it aloud, but his amusement was apparent in the slight uptick of the corners of his mouth. “I’m going to spin you now,” he informed you. At the sight of your apprehension, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, “Just hold onto my hand. I’ll guide you through.”

Just as he started to lift where both of your hands were connected, you froze, “Are you sure?”

He nodded confidently, guiding you through the spin before pulling you back to him, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you find dancing more frightening than facing a horde of titans.”

“I think you’d be correct in that assessment, sir.” He spun you once again, this time with ease as you followed his lead, “At least I’d know what to expect from titans.”

“You humor me, y/n,” he chuckled, his voice resonating deep within his chest. Your eyes were darting around to the scenery, as if you were about to take flight. Perhaps you had just realized what a compromising position you were in, here with the commander, but he leaned down, hoping to calm your fears. “Here, lean on my chest.” By now, the band had began to play in full, but surely it wasn’t time to start the banquet yet. You wanted to stay like this just a little longer, so you leaned into Erwin’s chest, closing your eyes as you listened to the steady beating of his heart.

When you finally opened your eyes, you noticed that the two of you had gained an audience hiding in the doors of the kitchens. Once again, you started to pull away from Erwin’s touch, but he held you tightly in his arms, “Erwin, they’re all watching.”

He spared a glance to the kitchen doors and chuckled as the scattered back into the kitchen, “Let them. It’s not often I get the chance to hold you this close. Let me indulge in this feeling for just a little while longer, please.”

You leaned back into his chest, content to sway to the rhythm of Erwin’s steadily beating heart, “As you wish, commander.”

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