#i guess no one sold my secrets

[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Two

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warning: None :)

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

“The sun’s barely gone down!” Cassian grumbled, following behind Helion, Rhysand, and Feyre as they walked the cobblestone streets of the Day Court. Every block of the small city contained at least two local bookstores, one cafe that also sold books, one flower shop that also sold books, and/or a small glass box filled with - as anyone could have guessed - more books to be given away for free. 

Helion chuckled, “You’re not in the Night Court any more. My people are early to bed, early to rise. Unless of course you spend a night with me.” He winked at Cassian, who had the sense to blush. Indeed the Night Court members had been shocked when the party cleared out not even two hours after the sun had slipped beneath the ground. 

Aside from the small scale bookstores which housed the most popular and recently published novels, every sector of the Day Court also had between one to three athenaeum’s - elaborate buildings of ivory stone laced with filigree and windows that lit up like the glowing eyes of an ancient beast. They were the pride and joy of all Day Court members. The windows flickered and shone with the magic used to protect the volumes from the sun. Even as the neighborhood lights slowly winked out, Azriel could track the diligent minds scouring the brightly lit shelves. There was a loving madness in their hunched backs, craned necks, and squinting eyes. 

As their troupe reached The Alcove, one of the smaller and cozier athenaeum’s, Azriel couldn’t help but imagine you in a similar display of passionate madness, when you forgot about the world around you and could actually relax.

The Alcove specialized in housing diaries and novels of everyday comforts - quiet, unassuming stories that could steal your heart as swiftly as the grandest tales of war and romance, but with much more discretion. Here, the knowledge pressed between pages with ink was full of warmth and subtlety. The others in your cohort had scorned you for your choice in The Alcove. Why would anyone choose such a dull place to live and work? Why not be surrounded by books on war tactics or history or religion or biology? Someplace useful and worthy of a Librarian’s gifts. But The Alcove had offered you something you’d missed since your mother’s death - a sense of home. 

You sat by the bay windows overlooking the darkened street below, breathing in the crisp and cool air that snuck in through the glass. On the other side of your apartment, a similar window overlooked The Alcove’s interior. Hundreds of mahogany shelves lined the high walls of the octagonal building with its signature domed roof. Grand staircases of gold twisted their way up from the ground, connecting to walkways that gave easier access to the volumes housed higher up the walls. 

It was a blessing in disguise that you’d chosen to sit on this side of your apartment. Otherwise you would have never seen the Shadowsinger watching you with careful consideration, his eyes faintly glowing like the eyes of a cat. He raised one gloved hand up at you in a wave, a solitary gesture as the rest of his companions and Helion walked towards the stairs that led up to your apartment entrance. 

He saw your mouth open in a shocked oh and couldn’t help the faintest smile gracing his lips as you disappeared from view.

“Oh shit.” You sprang up from your seat, eyes madly racing over the contents of your apartment. You were in the middle of a research project on magical signatures and your living space reflected the madness in your mind. Books lay open on the floor, on the desk, on the coffee table surrounded by carefully documented notes and half-scribbled ideas in equal measure. You wouldn’t be able to clean it up in time and, quite frankly, you had no interest in disrupting the chaotic organization. Did you really care about impressing the Night Court and Helion? 

The terrifying answer was, yes.

The dining room. 

It rarely saw use since you were disinclined to receive guests, and had more recently been repurposed to house stacks of romance novels… best not to let anyone see those… 

In the five minutes it took for Helion and the members of the Inner Circle to climb up the dozen flights of stairs, and knock on your door, you’d successfully managed to hide all the smutty romance books in your bedroom, throw a table cloth and candle on top of the dining table, put away the dried dishes that had been displaced on the kitchen countertops, and set a kettle on the stove. Was there anything more that could be done? 

Helion smiled brightly when you made your appearance, keeping the door slightly ajar to keep the worst of the living room out of sight. Perhaps this would be a short visit and they wouldn’t even ask to come inside.

“Y/n!” Helion said with a grin, “I present to you the Inner Circle of the Night Court.” He gestured with a grand flourish to some of the most beautiful fae you’d ever had the honor of witnessing.

“Some of us at least.” The High Lord’s voice was liquid honey and filled with enough charisma to seduce a nun.

“The most important ones.” The Lord of Bloodshed said with a boyish grin. The faint scar on his cheek pulled back with his smile.

“I’ll let Nesta know you said that.” The High Lady had swapped out her dress for a more simple pair of black slacks and a billowing shirt that cinched in at the waist, flowing over her body like smoke on water. 

“Wait, no. Feyre, I was only joking. Feyre-” 

She laughed, tipping her head back while her husband and mate looked on with a tenderness in his eyes you hadn’t expected to see. It wasn’t the love that shocked you so much as the casualness of it. High Lords and Lady’s - from the limited experience you had reading about them in books - were either unreadable or such outrageous flirts they looked ready to jump into the bones of anything that could stand upright or lay down for long enough. Both methods were appropriate to hide their true feelings, but Rhysand and Feyre seemed to take another approach entirely. 

Helion coughed when you made no move to introduce yourself, still shell-shocked at the caliber of guests currently at your door, “And to the Inner Circle of the Night Court, I present Y/n Y/l/n. My dear friend and one of the most talented researchers I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with.” 

“We’ve heard so much about you.” Feyre said, moving forward on instinct to embrace you. She stopped immediately when she saw you flinch back, but recovered quickly, smiling brightly, “My name is Feyre, and this is my mate Rhysand,” The High Lord tipped an imaginary hat, “And his brothers, Cassian and Azriel.” 

“It’s an honor to meet you.” You said politely.

“The honor is all ours.” Rhysand said. He held Feyre closer to his side, one hand ghosting close to her stomach in memory of the child that had grown there not even two years ago. “Helion told us everything you did. Our daughter is alive and well thanks to you, as is my mate.” 

You blinked in surprise. You didn’t know Helion had told them about that. 

“Oh um, it was a joint effort. My High Lord is too kind.” You said with a respectful dip of your head and all at once your manners flooded into your brain again, “Please, come in.” 

You sheepishly opened the door further, allowing the two High Lords and High Lady to grace your apartment. The Illyrians crossed the threshold last. Muscular, leathery wings rippled with power and prestige and it was incredible they managed to stay upright, let alone keep them from dragging on the floor. 

You made a mental note to revisit some old anatomy texts on winged fae. 

“I um,” You hurried to the kitchen, hearing the kettle start to screech, “I apologize. I wasn’t prepared for guests.” The screaming stopped and you remembered that you didn’t have any matching tea sets. 

You reached into the cupboards, face blushing at the assortment of novelty mugs you’d acquired over the years. Hardly fit for a children’s tea party let alone some of the most powerful fae to have ever existed. 

“There will be no apologies from you, tonight, my dear.” Helion said with a charming smile, “Not after we’ve barged into your home uninvited and taken over your dining table.”

From over the island you saw that Helion had already settled down at the table, the others following suit. Everyone except for the Shadowsinger. 

He lingered by the kitchen archway, keeping a respectful distance as you poured boiling water into the teapot over a mixture of chrysanthemum and rosehip. 

“Would you like any help?” He gestured to the tray now loaded with the teapot, cups, and a platter of biscuits that shook in your hands. 

“Oh,” You stared at his outstretched hand, soft black leather molded over graceful fingers. “No, that’s alright. I can do it. But thank you for offering.” You stood face to face with him, silently begging him with your eyes to move to the table with the others so you wouldn’t have to suffer the consequences of touching him.

His hand quickly dropped to his side, then slid behind his back. You caught the flash of hurt in his eyes before he masked it. 

“There are some cookies in the living room!” You said a little too loudly, “On top of the coffee table. If-if you wouldn’t mind bringing those-” The Shadowsinger was already gone on his mission and you breathed a sigh of relief. 

There were more books on the floor than swords on a battlefield. Azriel stepped over them gently, careful not to disturb the precarious arrangement. Books on anatomy, microbiology, human medicine, and magical theory flared outward, tracing the path of Y/n’s mind. Azriel walked it with wonder at the brilliance hidden within the midnight thoughts that had been spilled on paper, before being organized later on with a loving hand. Because that’s what this all spelled out to him - some chaotic, maddening love. He was almost jealous not to be on the receiving end of it… almost.

He saw the platter on the table, but ignored it for the pile of books by the windowsill. These ones were different from the rest. Older and more worn. The bindings were cracked and flexible after being read hundreds of times. He could even trace the faint outlines of your fingers on the leather bindings where natural oils had eaten away at the dye. 

He read over the titles and committed them to memory for no other reason than the fact that he liked things that had been well loved. 

“I made a mistake don’t-” 

Azriel straightened up, color washing over his cheeks as he turned to face you in a sea of paper and leather. 

Without thinking, he’d fallen into old habits of poking through people’s belongings. There was a reason Rhysand had made him Spymaster of the Night Court after all. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” 

“Did you eat a cookie?” You blurted out in a panic. 

“No, no I didn’t.” 

Your shoulders dropped in relief, one hand brushing back your hair. Azriel caught sight of your ink stained fingertips, and the faint mark they left on your temple. 

“Oh thank the Mother.” You muttered under your breath, stealing a glance over your shoulder to the dining room where Helion was playing host in your stead and doing a far better job than you would have been capable of.

“Are they poisoned?” Azriel asked, but the joke fell flat upon seeing the horror in your face.

“No! No, that's not why-I should explain myself better. I would never dare try and poison you. Or anyone for that matter!” You scrunched your eyes shut, face burning brighter than the sun at noon.

I’m a fool. I’m making a fool of myself. He’s going to think I’m an absolute idiot. And right after Helion called me a gifted researcher. What a fucking lie.

Azriel, the blessing in disguise that he was, gave you a moment to collect yourself, pretending to find more interest in a volume on snake venom that was laid open on the ottoman. 

“A friend baked those for me.” You finally said. 

Azriel nodded, a faint smile gracing his face and it caught you off guard. He was beautiful, there was no doubting it so long as you had eyes. What had surprised you was the faint slivers of warmth behind the facade of the cold, brooding Shadowsinger. It was… surprisingly comforting to be standing in a room with him, just the two of you. It was certainly better than the party you’d unceremoniously winnowed out of earlier that day.

“I would never hold it against you if you wanted to save those for yourself.”

Your lips twisted in disgust, “Oh gods no, Cherp is a terrible cook.”

“Cherp?”

“He’s another Librarian I know.” Probably the closest thing to a friend I have. But you weren’t about to tell the Shadowsinger that. “He specializes in chemistry and food history.”

“He’s a food historian?”

“Yes.”

“And yet he’s a terrible cook?” The Shadowsinger tilted his head to the side. 

The corner of your mouth tipped up, “The worst.”

“How is that possible?”

You gave it a thought, eyes darting around the walls like the answer was hidden behind paint, “Do you know how many different types of eggs there are, um,” You weren’t sure what to call him.

“Azriel. Call me, Azriel.”

“Azriel.” You said, testing out the shape of his name. You liked it.

“Do you know how many different types of eggs there are, Azriel?”

He cocked his head to the side, “I do not.”

“Thousands, Azriel. Thousands. If I told you to bake a cake with an egg, would you know I meant a chicken egg?” This time you didn’t wait for an answer, “Because you’d be surprised how quickly facts we consider ‘common knowledge’ disappear. Will people know we meant chicken eggs 1 million years from now? Perhaps not! All this to say that when Cherp follows recipes, he usually doesn’t have the knowledge to make it correctly and they turn out bland at best, inedible and poisonous at worst.” 

Azriel tipped his head back and laughed, prompting you to explain further, “He once spent ten years researching the evolution of average spoon sizes because so many of his recipes were measured in spoonfuls.”

Azriel smirked, “Is this what you academics get yourselves so worried about?”

You couldn’t tell if he was ridiculing you or not, but the sincerity in his hazel eyes said he wasn’t. “Well we...among other things, yes, I suppose that is something we concern ourselves with…” 

“Y/n!” Helion called from the other room, “Stop romancing the Shadowsinger and join us at the table. It’s a futile effort. I’ve been trying for centuries.” 

Your face turned a brighter shade of red as you watched Azriel pick his way through the empty spots on the floor. You pressed yourself against the wall to let him pass, a fact that didn’t escape his notice. And when he took a seat at the table, you ignored the unoccupied seat next to him, preferring to stand behind the island like a woodland creature ready to dive into their den at a moment’s notice. 

His lips flattened. He’d hoped to make you more comfortable around him after the disastrous events at the party, going so far as to hide the shadows that were clamoring for release. He should’ve known better than to assume one conversation about the historical accuracy of egg recipes would make that discomfort go away.  

From your island you tossed pleasantries back and forth like it was a game. But you couldn’t help the stiffness in your posture, the hesitation in your voice when they asked you about your life.

“I’m a Librarian.” You’d first answered, as if it were all that needed to be said. But they pressed onwards, tried to make you laugh. Cassian, especially, liked to poke fun, and despite your best efforts, you laughed. 

“All these libraries would make Nesta go feral. She wouldn’t know what to do with herself.”

“What kind of books does she like to read?” You asked, refilling the kettle as the cloudy sky outside darkened into a rich purple-black.

Cassian coughed, face turning red, “Romance.” He answered simply.

“Smutty romance.” The High Lord said, punching Cassian in the arm. His face turned redder.

“Lucky you,” Helion said with a wink that had Feyre bursting out into laughter. It was no secret that Helion had added Nesta onto his list of fae he’d one day like to have in his bed.

“There is an athenaeum that specializes in romance, and there’s no shortage of those sorts of novels… if you’re interested.” You said, hiding your face behind a sip of tea. 

“And how would you know about that?” Feyre asked teasingly. 

“I… am a Librarian. I know-I know things.” You sputtered unconvincingly. “I went once. Purely for research purposes.” 

Azriel gave her a look, a look that said he somehow knew of the eight raunchy books that graced your bedside table and had been well-read indeed.

As the conversation evolved to less embarrassing topics, you were struck by the fact that you were actually enjoying yourself. It was a far cry from the parties that you’d previously been invited to. There was an ease to the Inner Circle. A familial love that flowed off them as easy as water off a whetstone. It was something you hadn’t experienced in quite some time.

Azriel noticed when you fell silent, your mind carried away to more sobering thoughts than Cassian’s most recent travels to the Human Lands. Feyre noticed as well and made her surprise at the time look natural and unscripted.

“Day Court members are early to bed and early to rise aren’t you? I’m sorry we’ve taken up so much of your time.” She said, gently pulling Rhysand up with her as she stood. 

“No, not at all. Thank you for coming. I-I hope your daughter is doing well.” Was that an appropriate thing to say? Perhaps it was too threatening to comment on the wellbeing of a High Lord and High Lady’s child. But Feyre didn’t find any fault with that, a glassy look sliding over her eyes as Mor let Feyre into her mind so she could look at little Velaria dozing away in her aunt’s arms back home.

“She’s getting to be more and more of a handful everyday.”

“I wonder where she gets that from?” Cassian chimed in, throwing Rhysand a look as they collected their coats and slowly made their way over to the front door.

Rhysand threw his hand to his chest in indignation, “I was practically an angel.” 

Cassian snorted, “More like the devil.” 

Feyre rolled her eyes, shuffling the pair out the door into the still night. 

Azriel once again lingered behind, the last to leave behind Helion. He stepped out into the night-chilled air, the edges of him disappearing like the darkness had come to reclaim him. 

“It was lovely to meet you, Y/n, the Librarian.” He said, dipping into a shallow bow.

“It was lovely to meet you, Azriel…the Shadowsinger.” 

He smiled shyly, then froze, the smile slipping off his face into a look of shock. You glanced over your shoulder, missing the explosion of shadows that spilled out from him. 

You leapt back upon feeling their cool touch wrapping around you. There was a curiosity to the way they wound themselves through your hair and got tangled up in the folds of your dress. But thankfully, they carried no memories with them. No feelings but a faint relief and comfort that washed over you and gave you back your breath. For the first time in years you were experiencing a touch that you could handle. A touch that was stillness and peace.

“Is everything alright?” You finally looked back at Azriel, his eyes blown open and panicked.

He was not a man of many words. Never had been, never would be. But he wished he could speak everything on his mind. 

You’re my mate. You’re my mate. You’re my mate. You’re the one I’ve been waiting over 500 hundred years for. 

But when he saw the concern in your eyes, the gentle tilt of your head that exposed the curve of your neck, he knew it wasn’t the time.

“I-I have to go.” 

This time it was his turn to disappear. He swallowed his words, forced down the bond that now burned in his chest with the light of a thousand suns, and fled past the shocked faces of his family members before shooting off into the night sky.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

Does this batboy deserve a nerdy mate to tease and have fun with? Yes. I will take no criticism (just kidding if you have thoughts about how my writing is, let me know, just be kind and respectful about it).

Love,

Florence B.

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#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x mate reader #inner circle #azriel acotar #the shadowsinger and the inkbird #acotar fanfiction #acotar #helion acotar #helion spell cleaver

[twobluejeans]

HEARTBREAK ON TOUR!

charles leclerc x famous!reader

summary: in which the lavender haze has been lifted. or in which america’s it couple splits.

part 7: revenge dress, part 6: reckless, part 5: relevancy, part 4: emo ponytail girl, part 3: dupeee, part 2:wtf does ET know?, part 1: don’t start

faceclaim: madison beer

ally’s radio 📻: PART 7! bc why did this take me 2 days to make. da faq. a lot of tswift references 🫶

INSTAGRAM, july 15

liked by harrystyles, austinbutler, and 26,955,959 others

yourinstagram and by the way, i’m going out tonight.

View all 357,728 comments

sabrinacapenter R U KIDDING ME???

badgalriri go bad bitch go bad bitch go

1dstyles.harry harry i see u lurking 👀

user1 she don’t know she need me yet

arianagrande MOTHER IS MOTHERING

barbie this barbie is THAT GIRL

leclerc_pascale Beautiful Girl!❤️

yourinstagram leclerc_pascale thank you ❤️

alexademie 😍😍

user2 they won’t love you like i would

omarapollo come home the kids miss u

y/nsdeadreputaion i know charles is crying in the corner rn

(landonorris liked this comment !)

danielricciardo May God bless the dinosaur that died to make the fossil fuel that was treated to become petrol in the car that took your mom to hospital to give birth to you

yourinstagram danielriccoardo i hate you 😭💀

danielricciardo yourinstagram Don’t lie, You know you love me

fernandoalonso_offical danielricciardo No. Stop it.

written by Ally

July 15,2023 AT 1:30PM

Y/n L/n is rarely seen walking the streets in public anymore, but that is changing following her recent breakup  from longtime love Charles Leclerc.

The 12-time Grammy winner was spotted out and about in Rome just one day after her release of her new single, Reckless, which reflects on her past relationship with the formula 1 driver.

L/n was joined by celebs friends Zendaya, Tom Holland, Sabrina Carpenter, Bella Hadid, and Alexa Demie for a night out at Shari Vari Play House in Vía de' Nari, Italy. 

The news of her breakup sent shockwaves on social media. Tweets and memes were made, with fans expressing their disbelief and grief

Rumors had already spread that Leclerc was seeing someone else the last few months of thosr relationship. L/n just made those rumors  official last night as she delivered a tribute to  Leclerc and his new girlfriend Australian Youtuber Lola Ransdell, sending the media to a frenzy. 

The “Karma” hitmaker opted for a dress from Mônot’s SS22 collection, a black dress with cutouts across the chest and stomach, leaving little fabric between L/n’s collarbone and lower waist.

People on twitter are already calling this “Y/n L/n’s Revenge Dress Era” . 

"Not @Y/nL/n wearing Y/n’s Version of 'the revenge dress'," one fan posted.

The ultimate revenge dress is, of course, the off-the-shoulder black Christina Stambolian dress that Princess Diana wore while her former husband then-Prince Charles was admitting to an affair with current Queen Consort Camilla.

Diana, Princess of Wales attends the Vanity Fair party at the Serpentine Gallery on November 20, 1994 Anwar Hussein

L/n kicked off her sold-out Eras Tour on March 17, and eagle-eyed fans noticed that Leclerc had been absent from her shows.

In case you're unfamiliar with the lore of YourShipName (portmanteau and couple name of L/n and Leclerc), you probably don't understand the distress caused by the news. For most, Leclerc is not even a household name, but for YourFandomsName, he's the titular Lover.

via @yourinstagram in a now deleted instagram post

The Midnights singer and  f1 driver started dating in 2016. Fans speculate they met at the 2016 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix based on the lyrics of Reputation cut "Dress": "Flashback to when you met me / Your buzzcut and my hair bleached." Because, you guessed it, Leclerc sported a buzzcut and L/n’s hair was bleached.

At a secret session for Reputation, Leclerc reportedly told fans that the single "Gorgeous" was about her "angel boyfriend of one year." Other tracks off of Reputation like “Delicate," "Call It What You Want," and "King Of My Heart" are also thought to be about Leclerc.

Her next album, Lover, is also understood to be about Leclerc with songs like "Paper Rings," "Cornelia Street," "Daylight," and the titular "Lover."

During quarantine the couple started collaborating creatively. Leclerc surpassed his muse status and co-wrote Folklore tracks "Exile" and "Betty,"

 Evermore songs "Champagne Problems" and "Coney Island, and most recently, "Sweet Nothing" off Midnights. Other tracks on her most recent three albums canonically about Leclerc include: "Invisible String" and "Peace."

While they opted to remain very private about their romance, the couple was hit with a slew of engagement rumors throughout the course of their ill-fated romance.

"I'm aware people want to know about that side of things," Leclerc told GQ in 2018. "I think we have been successfully very private and that has now sunk in for people."

L/n briefly touched on the privacy aspect of their relationship in her 2020 documentary, "Miss Americana."

"We decided together we wanted our relationship to be private," she said. "Even though [my public image in 2016] was really horrible, I was happy."

"But I wasn't happy in the way I was trained to be happy. It was happiness without anyone else's input. We were just... happy," the singer added.

The "Lavender Haze" songstress' exes famously include Leonardo DiCaprio, Robert Pattinson, Fabian Frankel, Ben Barnes, Harry Styles, and Aaron Taylor-Johnson. 

SEE MORE RELATED POSTS:

• From Y/n L/n and Charles Leclerc to Sofia Vergara and Joe Manganiello, Here are all the Celebirty breakups of 2023…So far

• Leonardo DiCaprio, Gigi Hadid Are 'Definitely Dating' (Exclusive Source)

• Carlos Sainz Shares his thoughts on YourShipName’s Breakup

TWITTER, july 15

INSTAGRAM, july 15

liked by kendalljenner, haileybieber, and 2,674,123 others

lolaaransdell_ couldn’t be bothered

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user5 someone pls take away her phone i’m so serious

y/nsleclerc god has lots of favorites🥰💞🧚🏽you’re not one of them🥺💘💘

haileybieber the hottest ❤️❤️

badgerdannyricc you hit different 😍when you’re not on my screen 🧚‍♀️💞✨

cillianmurphyfineaf u killed this 💞🦋!🧚🏽now do the same for urself🙈🥰⚡️

charles16_leclerc this is just embarrassing stop

auzziericciardo i don’t like you but ur blush and highlight looks really good

norissxricciardo my daughter said she loved your videos! 😩💗✨ so i put her up for adoption 😽☁️🌺

INSTAGRAM STORIES, july 16

yourinstagram 4h

viewed by michaelbjordan, lilyrose_depp, and 2,042,828 others

INSTAGRAM, july 16

liked by landonorris, jacobelordi, and 8,667,214 others

yourinstagram it feels like a perfect night to dress up like hipsters & make fun of our exes.

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cinnamongirldelrey oh this is iconic.

queensel the reunion we needed

argentinastyles stop i love selena and y/n together

parisy/n THE CAPTION LMFAOAKSKHDH

charlottesiine Angel sisters for life!!!

yourinstagram charlottesiine my queen i love you!

jarofheartsy/n wait i’m confused who’s the girl on the last pic?

ciney/n jarofheartsy/n charlotte sine, charles’s ex gf 💀

TWITTER, july 16

ally’s radio 📻: DON’T U LOVE WHEN WOMEN. guys im stuck on who to choose for y/n’s next boo. like. so stuck. THIS CAN GO LIKE FOUR WAYS. WE HAVE FOUR OPTIONS AND I KINDA WANNA LET U GUYS PICK BUT ALSO NEED TO KEEP YALL IN SUSPENSE SO LIKE😭 SHARE WITH ME UR THOUGHTS PLS. also, i think i might start a danny ric fanfic next bc that’s bbg.

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[toxicanonymity]

twin peaks.

4k, Joel x afab!reader x Tommy, ONE SHOT A/N: This is my @pedrostories secret santa gift. @endlessthxxghts, you're on my nice list. Happy holidays! ♥️ Ty for the flexibility and for engaging with fics you like, which gave more ideas 🖤. Please excuse the extra men, don't need to remember names. Ty @jksprincess10 for your afab insights! WARNINGS: I8+, Motorcycle Club AU, but Joel is no longer riding. You're a chef. Language. Bar fight. Blood. Gunfire. My first attempt at mild grumpy/sunshine. Passing reference to a bar server's prior SA incident. An OC gets in your personal space and touches your side. Hurt/Comfort. Minor love triangle, I guess, but everyone’s cool. Unsafe P in V, creampies. MFM but only joel inside. The men can lift you. You’re shorter than them. Competency kink, mild size kink, sharing. Starts in Joel POV. Finished & "edited" on covid & meds, fck it we ball! BIKER JOEL RECS: both sides of the moon by @lunitawrites and (and ty for this list luna lol)  a minute from home by @agentmarcuspike, little mouse by @katiexpunk & @josephquinnswhore., the road to love by @jobean12-blog

dividers from @cafekitsune for POV change and time jump

“Changed the recipe,” Joel grumbles. 

Tommy shakes his head with a smile. “Ya know, brother. . . you might be the only one who comes here for the wings.” 

“Cause they’re the best. Or they *were*. Taste this.” Joel pushes the basket over to Tommy and takes a swig of beer, then adds, “If I wanna see some skin, I’ll go to a proper titty bar.”

The uniforms are cute at Twin Peaks, but Joel is there for two reasons: the wings and the company. He sold his Harley and quit the club after a minor accident. It left him only a little scraped up but scared his daughters to death. Now these biker bars are the only place he sees his old crew.

“Shit, they did change it,” Tommy concedes. “Maybe ya should send’em back,” he teases.

“Not a bad idea,” Joel mutters. 

“Really?” Tommy asks. 

“‘S’cuse me. Miss?” The scantily clad server turns around. “They musta changed the recipe, I can’t eat these.” 

“Oh no,” the server frowns. “Sorry ‘bout that, lemme see what I can do.” The server takes the wings back to the kitchen. 

-

A minute later, you emerge from the kitchen in your chef’s whites and Joel does a double take. You smile at him as you approach. 

“Oh, shit,” Tommy elbows him, but Joel hardly notices. He’s captivated by you, but he keeps a straight face. 

“Heard the wings weren’t to your liking,” you cringe empathetically. 

“Why’d ya go and change the Hot Honey recipe.”

“I’m sorry, hun. Hot Honey’s off the menu, that’s the closest we’ve got.”

“It’s *what* now? Why’d ya take it off?”

You sigh with an apologetic smile. “Wasn’t my call.” Then you perk up. “But I think you might really like the new Thai Spice recipe,” you smile.

“Don’t think so,” Joel grumbles. 

“He don’t like change,” Tommy explains. 

“How ‘bout a basket on the house?” You offer with a tilt of your head and raise of your eyebrows. 

Joel is flustered by your charm. “Uh, sure,” he mutters, trying not to check you out. Not much to see anyway with that chef’s apron.

“If ya like’em, buy me a drink sometime,” you add with a wink that makes Joel lose all his thoughts for a moment. 

“Yes, chef,” Joel nods, which makes both you and Tommy giggle. Then you turn and head back to the kitchen. 

“I dunno what they see in ya, man,” Tommy teases Joel and watches as you walk away. “Mm. Hottest thing here and dressed like a paper towel roll.” Joel fails to suppress a chuckle. “You gonna share?”

“We’ll see.”

-

The front door to the restaurant opens, and a hush falls over the dining room. 

Joel looks over his shoulder for only a second, then turns back toward the bar and mutters, “Fuckin’ Benny.”

“And the Jets,” Tommy adds as Johnny and at least half the rival crew follow Benny into the restaurant. Great, there’s Cal, Carter’s rotten brother. Real bad guy. Their motorcycle club is dangerous.

Joel gets his wallet out of his pocket and pulls out a few twenties, then downs the rest of his beer. “Didn’t come to babysit.”

“Think it’ll get ugly?” Tommy asks. “What about your new friend?”

“My new friend?” 

“‘member what happened with Carter’s girl?” Of course Joel remembers. Cal got handsy with her, Carter put him in a chokehold, and a nasty fight broke out. Carter got stabbed.

“Well, I ain’t in charge and don’t got a sweetheart, so I reckon chef hottie’s okay. Where’s Carter?” 

“Home. Can’t ride, already busted his stitches open once.” 

“Good. His girl ain’t workin’ either.” Joel’s face tenses and his nostrils flare as his gaze falls on Cal. “Cal shouldn’t be here.” Joel has to look away before his rage gets the best of him. Joel glances at a table of his own guys (now Carter's), and he isn’t surprised to see one of his buddies putting on brass knuckles. Ya don’t stab the leader and get away with it, but Joel sure wishes this would go down somewhere else. Joel does a double take when he sees another man at the same table reach for his hip. “Damnit, Harold,” Joel whispers to himself. 

“Better hit the boys room ‘fore all hell breaks loose,” Tommy mutters and gets up from his chair. 

—---you—--

Tonight’s the first time you’ve spoken with Joel, but you’ve noticed him before. His quiet, dark gaze is hypnotizing. The girls are all over him, and he doesn’t show any interest. He sits there scowling with his drink. 

When the chatter of the restaurant abruptly dies down, a pit forms in your stomach. Heavy boots click on the floor, and it sounds like they’re slowly circling the room like sharks.  “Hey sweetheart,” Benny croons out of view in that deep, smooth voice. He looks like a young, brunette Elvis. “You new?”

“Started this week,” the new bartender answers bashfully. 

“Bet they didn’t teach ya the whole job. Benny'll show ya the ropes,” says a deep voice that makes you bristle. It’s smooth. Southern. Sinister. It's Cal. You can visualize his infectious wink. 

One of your cooks puts Joel’s new wing basket on expo.  You compose yourself and grab it with a smile. “I’ll take this one.” You put on your blinders and don’t make eye contact with any of the men, but you notice Tommy walk by, headed toward the back. 

Before you make it behind the bar, Cal intercepts you. “Whoa, what’s cookin’, baby? You believe this, Benny? Keepin’ top talent locked up in the back.” 

Benny’s too wrapped up with the server to respond. 

“Thanks for the snack,” Cal tells you with his eyes roving your apron as he reaches for the basket. You pull it back. “Hey, what’s under this, anyway?” He skims your apron from the side and crowds you against the wall. He braces his arm against the wall, over you. “Got one of them sexy uniforms under this?”

“Excuse me,” you say and try to duck under and around him. 

“I wouldn’t move, darlin’,” Cal taunts.

“What the hell are you doin’ back here,” a man asks behind Cal. 

Cal laughs and looks over his shoulder, and you manage to free yourself. 

“Ain’t worth it, Harold,” Joel warns as he approaches, then Joel turns his attention to you. “You okay?”

-. . .-

Joel gets between you and the brawling men. You hear a blow land on someone, and they spit. Then there’s a click, and before you know it, you’re on the floor, tackled by Joel as a gunshot makes your ears ring. The wind is knocked out of you. 

Joel is on top of you, and time seems to slow down. Cal is slumped against the wall behind Joel, bleeding from the mouth and chest with a menacing smile. 

“Look at me,” Joel says and his massive hand turns your head to face him, bracing his other arm near your head on the tiled floor. “Look at me and only me.” His body is heavy on top of yours. 

You nod as chaos unfolds in the dining room. 

“You okay?” Joel searches your face. 

You nod again, and try to ground yourself with everything you’re physically feeling. The coldness of the tile under your hand. The weight of his body on top of you. The warmth of. . .the massive bulge pressing into your thigh. Joel doesn’t seem to be aware of it, but you sure are now. A wave of desire overwhelms you. Your thigh lifts against his hardening package and it twitches but he still doesn’t seem to notice with everything else going on. He glances behind himself.  

“Gonna get ya outta here,” he promises. “Ready?”

Behind you, someone opens the door to the men’s room, belt jingling. “Shit.” You recognize Tommy’s voice. 

“Bathroom,” Joel commands as he helps you up, then gently pushes you into Tommy’s arms. He nods toward the family restroom, which has a lock. “Gonna take this outside,” Joel pants as he heads into the fray.

“Joel, don’t–you’re outnumbered, don’t get yourself killed,” Tommy pleads.  There’s another gunshot. “Shit, I’ll be right there!” he shouts at Joel

“NO,” Joel barks. 

-

Tommy forces you into the family restroom and locks the door behind the two of you. “You okay?” he asks. You don’t answer.  You wouldn’t be able to without crying. He rubs your back, then searches your face. “Breathe for me, darlin’.”

You tug at the high collar of your chef’s apron, trying to unbutton it for relief.  Tommy quickly rips it open, exposing your tank top. His eyes linger for a moment, then he cradles your head and takes a deep breath, guiding you in your own breathing. He exhales, then murmurs, “You’re okay, honey.” 

You nod and take the apron off entirely, with him supporting you. “Yeah,” you laugh not to cry, but with tears in your eyes. “I’m good.” 

“Good, good. C’mere, darlin’.” His strong arms wrap you in a gentle, protective hug, cradling your head into his barrel chest. You take a deep breath, and the scent of his shampoo intoxicates you. “You’re okay,” he repeats. 

You pull your head back to look up at him, and the corner of his mouth twitches. Then something else twitches, against your middle.  That’s when you feel the denim slide under your hand and realize you’ve grabbed Tommy’s ass. What the fuck. You yank your hand out of his back pocket and stammer “Sorry–” feeling like your face is on fire. Why did you do that? You try to pull away but he gently holds you close. 

“‘S’okay,” he chuckles. “Adrenaline. It’s normal.” He dips his head and it’s close to yours. It gets a little closer, then there’s more gunfire and he releases his gentle hold on you. He bolts toward the door. “Lock it behind me” is the only thing he says as he leaves. 

You lock the door, then slump down against the wall. Is this real life? What’s gotten into you? Feeling up Tommy Miller in the bathroom less than an hour after you asked his brother out. Yeah, it must be adrenaline. The noise of the fight fades into the background while your thoughts drift back to Joel saving you. He’s so big and strong. So protective. You’ve heard how dangerous he is, but to see him in action? While he’s saving you, no less? 

-

Finally the noises have died down. You wonder if it’s safe to leave. You worry about whether Joel and Tommy and your line cooks are okay. You wait a little longer, then unlock the door and peek your head out. Cal staggers toward you, dripping blood. “It’s okay, I’m alright,” he drawls. Then you swiftly close and lock the door, heart pounding. A few seconds later, boots thud across the dining room and a punch is thrown. You hear Cal groan. “C’mon, man.” Another blow lands and Cal goes silent. There’s a knock at the bathroom door. 

“It’s me.” Joel’s voice. You’re still near the door. You unlock it for him. He comes inside and you must look terrified. He holds your cheeks, and his face and shirt are splattered with blood - surely not his own. He hugs you into him. “It’s me, baby. You’re okay.” His voice is deep and soft. He holds you for a minute. When he pulls back again to look at you, his eyes fall to your tank top and he wets his lips. He looks in your eyes again, then at your mouth. 

You close the distance with a soft kiss. Joel’s mouth spreads your lips open, and his tongue finds yours. As the kiss heats up, he pulls you tighter, moaning “Mm,” and you feel it again, you feel him. His hands slide down to grab your ass, pulling your hips into his, and he’s firmer. Lord, is he hung. He lets out a low growl from his chest, and he walks forward against you until the backs of his hands nudge the sink counter – thankfully clean. 

He bends down and his mouth latches onto your neck. He slips his fingertips into the front waistband of your pants, grabbing the button, then pulls away from your neck to pleadingly meet your eyes, and you nod urgently. He takes your pants and underwear down in a flash, then his hand engulfs your bare pussy and he groans at how wet you are. He kisses your neck again for a moment before hooking his massive hands, one of them wet, around the backs of your thighs. He lifts you onto the sink with a grunt as your legs wrap around him and you feel a rush of desire.

Joel sloppily kisses around your mouth with one hand between your legs and the other cradling your head. His scruff scratches you pleasantly. You grope him through his jeans, which are slick with your arousal, as you unbutton and unzip him. Then his own hand dives into his boxers and frees his thick cock, holding it at the right angle to slide right into you, pants and boxers resting below his balls.

“C’mere, baby.” He runs his stiff cock through your folds and you slowly grind against it with a moan. He spits on his shaft and his swollen, leaking tip prods at your entrance for only a moment before plunging into your wet hole and spreading your insides with his girth. There’s a brief burn, then your body catches up. On his second go, he bottoms out with a groan, and you gasp.

 “Yeah,” he sighs and begins to fuck you, slowly at first. “How’s that?” 

You can only nod, feeling so full of him you can hardly listen or form thoughts.  “Ohh,” you whimper as he stuffs you with his massive cock. Your skin feels hot. He speeds up to a moderate pace and you both moan and grunt as you fuck. He kisses and sucks your neck, moaning into your skin, then he breathes against it. He fucks you harder, deeper

“How’s it feel, baby–ohhh” He slams his pelvis into yours each time. 

“Ohhh, God, it’s, yeah, nngh–ohh”

Footsteps come down the hall, and stop outside the door. 

“Wait,” you whisper.”

“Want me to wait?” he whispers teasingly, slowing down to an excruciating pace, dragging slow and heavy inside you. 

You shake your head no. 

“Good,” he whispers. 

Tommy’s knowing voice outside the door: “Catch y’all later.” Then the footsteps recede. 

“Now please, please” you beg, wanting it harder again. You pull him close and grind your pelvis into his in just the right spot. “Ohh, Joel.” The pleasure overwhelms you and you whimper as you begin to clench and pulse. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, “Where do you want it?” 

“Right here,” you nod, pulling him closer, keeping him inside with your legs around him. 

Joel erupts with a groan, filling your hot, wet cunt with warm bursts, slowly thrusting into you as he empties his balls. 

“God damn, you’re somethin’ else.” 

---a few weeks later—

"Ain't wearin' a stupid holiday sweater," Joel grumbles. You and Joel have been seeing each other, and now you're going to Tommy’s holiday party with him.

"C'mon, just for the party. It'll be fun," you smile hopefully.

"Gimme a break, baby. Nothin' fun about sweaters."

"Don't be a Grinch," you pout.

"Thought I was a Scrooge," he retorts. 

"What if I let you fuck me in Tommy's bed?"

He squints at you. "God damnit, my heart just grew three sizes."

You look down at his jeans and smile saucily. You don't have to make the joke out loud. "Can't wait," you purr and hand him the sweater.  

"Tommy'd lose his mind," Joel shakes his head, then raises his eyebrows. "And not in the bad way." 

"Oh yeah?"

Joel gives a low whistle. "You should see him droolin' when ya walk away." Joel chuckles, and your face heats up. 

"Well. Maybe we shouldn't, then. . ."

"Don't see why not," Joel shrugs. 

You look away shyly.

"What's got you all flustered?" 

"Nothing," you shake your head, but you can't push away the thought of Tommy walking in and losing his 'mind.' 

Joel smirks. "Don't look like nothin'."

"Just excited to see you in a sweater," you run your hand through his curls. 

"I ain't the jealous type if ya wanna give Tommy some sugar, too."

You gasp and can't hide your embarrassed smile. Your face is burning. "He told you.” 

Joel plays stupid. “Told me what?” 

Your hand drifts up to cover your mouth. 

“Just sayin’, if ya wanna grab him in a nicer setting. . .”

“Joel!" You gently smack his chest. 

“Musta been the highlight of his life,” Joel laughs. “Post-divorce, at least.” 

"Naughty list for you." You press his sweater into his chest and go to the closet to change into your own. 

----

When you’re standing at the door of Tommy’s ranch, your heart is racing. 

“Relax, baby.” He rubs your back. 

“You were serious?” you ask. 

“Yeah, but ya don’t gotta. Just sayin’ it’s fair game.” 

Your eyes meet and he cups your cheek. You whisper, “thanks for wearing the sweater.” 

Joel gives you a kiss right as the door opens, and Tommy teases, “You two need a room already?” Tommy’s wearing a festive cardigan open over a wifebeater and his huge belt buckle. He stands aside to let you in, and you don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on your mouth. 

Sarah brings her husband, and you spend much of the night talking to them, hearing old stories about Joel. It’s a small party, adults only, and most of the parents have to get home to their babysitters, but Ellie is staying at Bill and Frank’s for the week to help with their Christmas tree farm. It’s a real treat for her and also her first “job.” 

—

You don’t steal Joel away during the party, and he doesn’t try either. But when everyone else is gone, you and Joel stay for a drink with Tommy. He offers that you’re welcome to stay over since the kids are with Maria. 

“Where ya want us?” Joel asks. 

“Well, my bed’s the most comfy,” Tommy looks at you and adds a wink that gives you butterflies. 

Joel nods with an intrigued frown. “Whatcha think, honey?”

“Okay,” you nod. You’re afraid to act too eager, but can hardly believe your luck. 

-

In Tommy’s room, Tommy reclines on the bed, while Joel holds you in a hug. Joel turns your chin to meet his eyes and asks “Comfortable?”

You nod and smile. 

“Ready to be even more comfortable?” 

Joel kisses you gently, sensually. Then his lips become hungrier, and you lose yourself in his rising desperation. He moans into your mouth and pulls you closer against him. He walks against you until you’re at the bed, and when you glance back to make sure you don’t fall, you see Tommy reclining with his ankles crossed, palming himself over his jeans. He holds your gaze and begins to undo that big belt buckle, and you get a rush of arousal. 

With you seated on the bed and Joel looms over you. The curves of his hulking muscles stretch his sweater. Your eyes fall to his jeans, and you can see the outline of his massive erection. You reach for the button and he murmurs, “yeah, there ya go,” and affectionately cradles your head while you unbutton and unzip him. Then he takes his sweater off over his head and his under-tee rides up exposing his happy trail. “Let’s get that sweater off, Tommy.” 

You turn around and see Tommy is on all fours with his cardigan already off. He’s prowling across the bed, to the foot of it where you sit. Tommy sits up on his knees behind you, and wraps his arms around. He lifts at the bottom hem of your sweater and brings his mouth to your ear to murmur, “Yeah, let’s get comfortable.” You raise your arms and he takes off the sweater for you then cups your breasts. You pull off your bra from under your tank top while Joel takes off his jeans. 

“Shit, let’s take it all off,” Tommys says with his voice briefly muffled by his wifebeater as he pulls it over his head. “Nothin’ like three bare bodies all twisted up.” His giant belt clinks as he unbuckles it behind you. Joel steps out of his jeans, leaving the tent in his boxers on full display, making you gush. He bends down to help take your tank top off, then he kisses you as he unfastens your pants. Joel kisses down your body as he removes your pants and underwear. 

“Come on up here,” Tommy mutters and wraps an arm around you. He pulls you up toward the pillows, then stacks them behind himself and pulls you between his legs where you can feel he is fully nude and hard. His skin is hot and smooth. You're both facing Joel. 

You sit between Tommy’s moderately hairy legs, and his broad palms cup your naked breasts. “How ya doin’, darlin’?” he whispers into your ear. His cock twitches against your lower back. “Ready for my brother?”

You nod, “Yeah.” 

“He’s ready too.”

Joel is kneeling onto the bed with his commanding cock in hand. He pauses to squeeze himself, eyes roving over you like you’ve never looked hotter. “Look like an angel, baby. Can’t wait to be in ya.” Tommy lightly grinds himself against your lower back, then his hands come to your thighs, and you spread them open for Joel. 

“Always so good,” Joel mumbles, then kisses you deeply and you feel his cock run through your dripping seam.  You’re wet, so wet for him. He’s still kissing you, letting your lips separate every second or so.  His face pulls back and Tommy slightly adjusts you between his legs. Tommy’s cock is stiff against your back. Joel’s tip nudges your entrance, then he pushes himself into you. Tommy’s hands are still on your breasts. Joel leans over you, bracing his hands on the bed to either side of Tommy’s thighs. It still makes you swoon how his big cock stuffs you full. As Joel thrusts into you, Tommy ruts against you, moaning softly. The force of Joel’s thrusts makes you rub against Tommy’s stiff manhood and he groans.

“Feel so good, baby,” Joel breathes. 

“Take’ him so well,” Tommy  whispers. 

Your breath hitches and you moan into Joel’s mouth with his cock dragging thickly deep inside you. Tommy massages your breasts and grinds into you while Joel kisses you and fucks you good. It feels better and better every minute. Joel dips his hips and grinds against your front as he stuffs  you with his cock. You feel the tension building in your belly, and your clit twitches. 

You tear your mouth away from Joel’s and whine, “Joel.”

“Oh, baby, gonna cum already?”

You whimper and nod. 

“It’s okay, baby. Go ‘head,” Tommy whispers. 

“Yeah, let it happen, baby,” Joel agrees. 

Then Joel, with his cock still seated inside you, rolls his hips to put more pressure on your front, and  Tommy grinds against your lower back, and you clench down on Joel’s cock with a moan. 

“Oh, Fuck,” Joel whispers and he begins to pulse at the exact same time you feel Tommy erupt against you. The three of you come in a cacophony of grunts and moans and Tommy’s sliding wetly against your crack as his cum trickles down. 

Joel stays inside as he catches his breath, then slides out of you, and some of his cum drips down between Tommy’s legs. 

“Think ya might be the one I been lookin' for,” Joel mumbles. He gives you a slow kiss.

You get cleaned up, then you sleep like three spoons stacked together with Joel in front. 

===

Thank you for reading!

: @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading

#pedrostoriesgift23 #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader x tommy miller #tommy miller x reader #biker!joel #toxicanonymity ☠️ #joel miller x afab!reader #tommy miller x afab!reader #the bikeriders #the bikeriders x reader #bikeriders cal #the bikeriders cal

[blushweddinggowns]

When Nancy’s mom pulled her aside one day to ask her a favor, she never thought that it would involve tutoring the Steve Harrington. The basketball starter that had nearly every girl in their high school wrapped around his finger. 

And sure, Mrs. Harrington was offering some really good pay, but that didn’t mean she wanted to do it. Because Steve was…a lot. He was cocky, he was weirdly aggressive when it came to his drug dealer best friend, and if his grades and lack of self-control were anything to go by, he was also dumb as hell. 

Just because he was the hottest guy in school didn’t mean she wanted anything to do with him. But her mom didn’t really give her a choice, not when she had been vying for Mrs. Harrington’s friendship for years.

And that’s how she found herself on the Harrington doorstep on a Sunday, dreading how tedious trying to make someone with no attention span learn was going to be. She rang the doorbell, impatient for the whole thing to just be done with already. 

She was surprised when it was Eddie Munson who answered the door, clad in nothing but boxers and a t-shirt that Nancy was pretty sure belonged to Steve, unless he had been a secret swimming champion in 1982. For a split second she thought she was at the wrong house, until she remembered that Eddie was supposed to be living in a trailer park. 

He ran a hand through his messy hair, not even the slightest bit embarrassed to be caught without pants on at someone else’s house, “Uh, can I help you?”

“I’m here for Steve? Um, I’m his tutor? Nancy Wheeler?” She wasn’t sure why she said her own name like it was a question, but the way Eddie was staring her down had her uncharastically nervous. 

But his eyes brightened at the word tutor. He stepped aside to let her in, “Oh yeah! He told me that was today, I guess we just lost track of time. Wait here. I’ll go get him. You want a muffin? I literally just made them, unless you're allergic to chocolate? But if you’re not they’re like, really good, my uncle’s recipe so you can trust it.”

He was talking a mile a minute as he led her into the house, happy in a way she never would have expected from him. In school he was so…defensive. Always willing to cut down anyone who made a comment about his weird sense of style. And there was also the little known fact that he sold freaking ketamine in the woods behind school with a small history of violence and theft. She kind of thought that the drug dealer whose wardrobe half consisted of skulls wouldn’t be the type of guy to bake muffins. 

But that didn’t mean she didn’t want one. 

“Um, sure?” She said, jumping a little when Eddie suddenly tossed one her way. 

Before she could even say thank you he was two-stepping his way up the stairs, whistling a tune that Nancy couldn’t help but smile at. If Eddie Munson could be so nice, then the odds of Steve turning out to not be a total dick were looking pretty good.

She could hear him slam a door open upstairs, voice loud and obnoxious, “Time to wake up sunshine! You got some learning to do!”

Nancy wandered over to the stairs as she ate, happily surprised at just how good it was. She couldn't hear much else, just a few groans and some shuffling, then something that sounded suspiciously like a giggle before the two of them made their way back downstairs. 

Steve was just as disheveled as Eddie was, hair a mess as he blearily blinked into the light, like it wasn’t already noon. He at least had the decency to put on pants though, something that Eddie had decided was superfluous. 

He waved at her as they came down, at least apologetic, “Hi, I’m Steve. Sorry about that. I was up late last night doing- I mean watching movies. Kind of let the day get away from me a little bit.”

He put out his hand for Nancy to shake and she couldn’t help but notice just how big they were. She took it, suddenly a little flustered as she spoke, “Nancy. And we’ve uh, actually met before. Believe it or not.”

Steve blinked at her, mind obviously racing to try and figure out when he’d seen her before, “Please don’t tell me we used to date.”

“No we didn’t but- wait. You don’t remember all the girls you’ve dated?” Nancy raised a brow at him, suddenly a lot less impressed. Just how big of a player was this guy?

But at least he had the good grace to look embarrassed, “I-well, it’s not like that. I-”

Eddie put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him in the midst of his stuttering sentence, “Stevie, stop while you're ahead. Now go get some food so your brain can actually function.”

Surprisingly, Steve obeyed, just like that. He just nodded and puttered into the kitchen, leaving Eddie and Nancy to follow him. 

Eddie leaned over, stage-whispering in her ear, “He’s usually a lot more charming after he’s been conscious for more than 5 minutes. I swear.”

They rounded the corner, just in time to see Steve eat half a muffin in one bite. He moaned at the taste of it, and Nancy was suddenly blushing for the second time in one day. 

He smiled at Eddie, hearts in his eyes, “How are you so good at everything?”

Nancy was starting to understand why her mom always said the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. If she didn’t know any better she’d say that Steve was seconds away from asking Eddie to ride into the sunset together. 

Eddie shrugged, even though his face was positively pleased. Steve finished the rest of it with a dreamy sigh, eyes still locked on Eddie.

“God, I love-” Steve coughed mid sentence, and for a second Nancy was sincerely worried that he had managed to choke on a piece of muffin. But the next moment he was fine, glancing over at her before straightening, “Uh, when my parents are gone. You can eat anything you want. Thanks for making them dude.”

Eddie snorted, barely managing to keep his laughter inside, “No problem, dude. But now that you're functioning I’ll let you guys get to it. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

Nancy wasn’t sure just what they would need him for, but Steve nodded anyway. It was almost weird, just how comfortable Eddie was in his house. She had half expected him to leave after he dragged Steve downstairs, especially since it was a school night, but the way he sprawled himself out on the couch said otherwise. 

They set themselves up at the kitchen table, Nancy with their biology book in hand and Steve with a second muffin. She cracked her book open, internally preparing herself for an afternoon of frustration. So imagine her surprise when none came. 

Because Steve Harrington was nothing like she expected. He wasn’t some undiscovered genius or anything, but he was diligent. He didn’t try to make a move on her, which her friends had definitely warned her about when they first heard she was tutoring him. He never got mad when he didn’t understand something, or even impatient. If anything he was just apologetic, a constant barrage of I’m sorry coming out of his mouth whenever he got something wrong that she already explained.

It was endearing to say the least. He even offered to drive her home after. She hadn’t realized that the offer included Eddie poking at him from the back seat and complaining about the music the whole ride home, but still. It was a nice gesture. 

When her mom asked her how it went she didn’t even have to lie. It went great. Not even on the whole he wasn’t a dick side of things. He was making ground when it came to his schoolwork, he just needed a little bit of extra attention. 

She found herself laying in bed that night with a smile on her face, more than excited to see Steve again. Maybe they’d even manage to get a little alone time, just so she could get to know him a bit better.

For strictly tutoring reasons, of course. 

~

Part 1.5 Part 2 Part 3

From an unpublished chapter of this fic (But I'll probably add part two and the reveal here because it kind of works with tumblr formatting!)

#secret relationship steddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #nancy wheeler #the universe trapped in your skin #unrequited crush #sorry nancy #boy's taken #stranger things #season 1 rewrite #childhood friends au #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things season 1 rewrite #stranger things fic

[linkspooky]

GREAT TEACHER, GOJO

For my final commentary on chapter 236, I thought I'd talk about this panel the starter of a million flame wars on twitter dot com. The big controversy is Nanami stating that Gojo fought only for himself without mentioning his students which a lot of people thought was a last minute reversal on Gojo's character, or character regression.

I'm not going to call anyone stupid, or say if you have good teacher Gojo headcanons you're wrong. However, I'd like to point out that Gojo's always been more complicated than most shonen mentors. He's not Kakashi, and he's not Aizawa, and I'd argue the fact that he's not the standard "I'd die to protect my students" mentor we see in shonen manga is what makes him interesting.

The Springtime of Youth

Jujutsu Kaisen is a shonen jump manga that is very aware of the other manga that are running in the same magazine and uses that awareness to play with audience expectations.

To put it simply if you don't want to use words like Deconstruction - if you're reading Jujutsu Kaisen then things are probably not going to go the way you expect them. It's not Naruto, it's not My Hero Academia, it's a little bit like Bleach except characters actually die.

If you expect things to go one way in Jujutsu Kaisen, then you're going to be thrown a curveball. To name some examples briefly before diving into Gojo.

Yuji Itadori is a normal boy protagonist suddenly dragged into the world of the supernatural.

However, everything goes wrong from there. Jujutsu Sorcerers are not heroes. Yuji is told that much from the beginning by Megumi within the first thirteen chapters. The world of Jujutsu Sorcery is not a good place to be, Yuji is initially excited to be a sorcerer and to be a part of this world and then learns that lesson fast. I mean, imagine if Deku was accepted to UA, and then he immediately learned that students at the school die on the regular and all the adults are either terrible selfish people, or if they're not they die too like Nanami because being selfless means sticking your neck out for someone else.

Yuji's not really special in the narrative. He's just a kid who swallowed a finger. He doesn't have a secret technique. We're hundreds of chapters in and he's still just punching people. If he's cornered in a fight he doesn't unlock a secret technique either, he just loses.

Yuji has a superpowered evil side, like the nine tailed fox, or Hollow Ichigo except it's not really his super powered evil side. It's an evil parasite attached to his soul with a will of its ownt hat will manipualte him. Hollow Ichigo and the Kyuubi can escape temporarily and there's usually no consequence. Sukuna escapes twice, the first time he nearly kills Megumi, the second time he kills thousands.

Yuji is kind of like a main character who is not a main character.

If you still believe he's the main character, then you can agree he's punished for thinking he's the main character and therefore things are going to be easy, because nothing is ever easy in Jujutsu Kaisen.

Megumi is a riff on the chosen one. He's supposed to be the Gojo Satoru of his generation, born with the strongest technique that ca even surpass the limitless and he's nowhere near the level he's supposed to be. This is because Megumi has been continually failed by every adult figure all his life, starting with his father who sold him, then Gojo the man who SAVED* him techically but with a big asterisk that he needed to become his student and do jobs for Jujutsu High School otherwise Gojo would just let the Zen'in take him or let them starve I guess. Megumi has no adult figures to rely on, and has been given very little freedom about who or what he wants to be in his life, and therefore he's a very passive, repressed individual who's riddled with insecurities. Megumi doesn't want to be the strongest like Gojo, or like many hero / rival characters in shonen manga. Megumi doesn't even know what he wants to be, because he's never been given any choice in life.

If you don't think Megumi's a deconstruction of any sort of character type, look at those posts on twitter that are like "Look at the black haired depressed shonen boys" and then look at Megumi, he's never actually like any of these boys because he's much deeper and probably closer to being the main character than Yuji is.

Then we get to Gojo who is very unlike all the other mentors in shonen manga.

If Yuji and Megumi are both riffs on a main character, a hero in a world so cynical he's not allowed to play hero and actively punished for it, and a chosen one who doesn't want to be the chosen one then you have Gojo as the mentor who's nothing like the classic mentor.

The problem with mentor characters in fiction is that number one they die a lot (spoiler warning Obi Wan Kenobi dies in Star Wars just so you know) and number two they're not usually the most complex character in the cast.

What is the mentor there for?

To Mentor (duh.)

What this means is they are usually a fully formed adult who can teach a lesson to the main character, who in shonen manga is typically a teenager.

I say they're usually less interesting because stories are about characters changing, or characters learning lessons. A teacher presumably already has learned his lesson. They are usually at the end of their journey and not the beginning, that's why they can offer wisdom to the main characters. They're not usually their own separate characters because of this - a narrative doesn't have time to waste on a character that's not going to change.

Jung had a term for this character, it's called the Wise Old Man.

In Jungian analytical psychology, senex is the specific term used in association with this archetype. Examples of the senex archetype in a positive form include the wise old man or wizard. In the individuation process, the archetype of the Wise old man was late to emerge, and seen as an indication of the Self. 'If an individual has wrestled seriously enough and long enough with the anima (or animus) problem...the unconscious again changes its dominant character and appears in a new symbolic form...as a masculine initiator and guardian, a wise old man, a spirit of nature, and so forth'.

The role of the wise man archetype is to help other people along with their ego development, because usually they are already fully developed individuals.

Obi Wan is the most typical of typical mentors, and he dies in Star Wars because after he finishes teaching Luke he has nothing to do. This is Luke's Hero's Journey. Obi Wan's already happened offscreen, he's at the end of his journey there's no room for change or growth in him because his story purpose is to exist to advise Luke and to do that he needs to be a fully grown adult figure.

The subversion to this when the mentor has their own agenda (Gandalf), or the mentor is as flawed as the main characters themselves and so therefore he has something to learn.

Gojo is kind of a combination of both, like Gandalf he is the mysterious but seemingly all powerful wizard (er... or rather sorcerer) with his own agenda, and he's also practically the fourth member of the main cast who are otherwise all teenagers. In fact, Gojo spells out his agenda in the same panels that everyone uses to constantly assert that Gojo is a good teacher who only wants to protect his students.

He wants to make the Jujutsu World a better place (good) which is why he is raising students so he can turn them into his political allies to make a regime change (hidden agenda).

It's a means justifies the end type scenario. In Gojo's mind the means (raising kids as tools in support of his political agenda) justifies the ends (a better jujutsu world for those children). His motivation is still the same. This is what I think people most often get confused about with Gojo's character. I think he is one hundred percent genuine about wanting a better world.

"I have a dream, I want to reset this crappy Jujutsu World" is his motivation, but not his means. He uses his students as a means to achieve that end. Even if it's purportedly for their sake, he's still using them. I don't even think this is subtext it's text, both Megumi and Yuji call themselves cogs.

"But senpai, what's your function...?"

You could say in this case that the ends don't justify the means. Is Gojo really protecting these kid's youth, if Yuji and Megumi are going around calling themselves cog and acting like they don't matter in the grand scheme of things? In fact the narrative is inviting you to question if Gojo's ends justify his means.

Gojo's ideals can be one hundred percent real, but he can also pick faulty ways of choosing those ideals that fail to live up to them. In fact most people fall short of ideals, that's why they're called ideals. Gojo is taking these kids in because they have strong potential as sorcerers and he wants to recruit them, that's his hidden agenda. It's confirmed in databooks in Yuji and Yuta's case, and even if you don't trust databooks as canon then look at how he treats Megumi.

Megumi is explicitly Gojo's student, not his son. He only intervened in Megumi's situation on the caveat that Megumi work for him. Presumably, if Megumi didn't want to be a sorcerer and just wanted to be a normal kid, Gojo would have either let the Zen'in have him or do nothing. The option of just calling child services and getting someone to foster Megumi until he was older didn't even seem to cross Gojo's mind. There's the help he gives (Food money, rent, protection from the Zen'in) and then the hidden agenda (Don't work for the Zen'in who are my political rivals, you're my student now).

Yet at the same time Gojo is shown going to find Megumi after Geto's defection, probably because of the words he said to Yaga "You can only save those who want to be saved," when he realized it was too late for Geto. Was he intervening earlier for Megumi because he learned from being too late with Geto? Did he think Megumi needed guidance, or did he think Megumi needed protection in his youth so the Jujutsu World wouldn't corrupt him like it did Geto, or did he think he just needed to make it so Megumi was strong so he wouldn't fall behind him because Geto fell so far behind him once Gojo became the strongest. There's ambiguity there, because the hidden agenda is you know... Hidden. That's what I mean with Gojo though, you can look at him from multiple angles, he's not just (I love my students I'd die for them) because that character would only have one purpose in the narrative and that'd be being the perfect mentor who teaches them all the right lessons.

Gojo's not like other mentors, and in fact he's a commentary on the mentors that everyone is always comparing him to and expecting him to be like.

Literally everyone who reads Naruto has the exact same response, "I hate how the manga never talks about how it's a bad thing to send these child soldiers into war, and nobody breaks the cycle."

There are a lot of people unhappy about the same thing in My Hero Academia, "Why does nobody talk about how wrong it is that the adults make these high school students fight on the battlefield."

Well there you go. That's Gojo. His dream is to make it so Jujutsu Society is a place where teenagers can survive until adulthood. His method of doing so is to... raise those teenagers to be stronger than the previous generation, but you know still letting them be child soldiers on the battlefield just stronger ones. He does this because if he's working within the system the his two choices are raise a group of people who can age out and replace the old regime, or just kill everyone at the top.

Everyone complains about how no one talks about the child soldiers in Naruto or My Hero Academia, but here you go, we have a manga that is centered around how messed up it is to send high school students to continually fight these curses before they even turn eighteen. Gojo's sending these kids out there still even if he wants to change things, and it's supposed to be a little messed up and also a contradiction to what his ideals are supposed to be.

Because in My Hero Academia you have characters like Aizawa and Kakashi who are "I will die for my students" but then they just send those teens out to fight in a war, and seem totally fine with that. It's a hole in the writing, but this time it's done on purpose, to ask why these adults are always comfortable sending teenagers out to fight for them?

Jujutsu Kaisen provides two answers, number one the system is inherently corrupt and it sees the youth as cogs because the system is rooted in traditions that keep the elderly in power. Number two, in Gojo's case at least this is exactly what it was like for him growing up as a child. Gojo is just repeating with his students what was done to him, subconsciously.

The reason Nanami said this, and then repeated it in this most recent chapter is Gojo was born to be a Jujutsu Sorcerer. Being a Jujutsu Sorcerer is a highly deadly occupation for everyone else, except for Gojo. Not only that but because he's so good at it, and he's so lauded for it he's built his entire identity around it. Nanami's not just saying that Gojo is selfish, he's also saying that Gojo thinks being a sorcerer is a good thing. It is the end all, be all of Gojo's existence.

He doesn't want to make it so sorcerers don't have to fight, or make it so all cursed energy is gone for the world like Yuki Tsukumo, his dream is actually kind of limited in scope he doesn't want the school days of his students to be destroyed by the outside world the way it was for him and Geto.

Gojo looks at the symptoms and not the cause. Geto defected, Haibara died, Yaga wasn't really able to do much for his students in both scenarios. Gojo deduced it was because the elders and regressive policies were holding people back in favor of keeping the regime in charge (correct) and that because of that the sorcerers in Gojo's high school years just weren't strong enough to keep up (this is just what Gojo thinks).

His words to Megumi are encouraging him to be strong so he won't get left behind, which as I speculated above might imply Gojo thinks that part of what went wrong with Geto was that he simply wasn't strong enough to keep up with Gojo or stay on his level. If not then he still encourages Megumi to get strong before everything else, he's not taking care of these kids emotional needs, he's pushing them to get stronger because in Gojo's mind that's the be all end all solution to every problem.

"Nanami's line was not saying that Gojo doesn't care about children, it's saying that "You live for Jujutsu." It is the lens through which Gojo sees everything, and so therefore he doesn't think of breaking kids out of the Jujutsu World, just making it a place that's slightly more safe for them. Gojo's ego is so strong that he only ever sees things from his point of view, being a sorcerer was fun for him, his high school days were the happiest time in his life before they got ruined by outside forces.

He's trying to protect those days for his children, but he's not arguing against the existence of an institution like Jujutsu High in the first place. He's not saying the teenagers should never be sent out on missions, he's saying we need to make the teens stronger. If they're stronger than they won't die (that's probably true but they'll be even safer if they don't have to go on missions in the first place).

Now we have a reason! Why do Aizawa and Kakashi send out child soldiers into the battlefield if their goal is to protect their students? Because it's a shonen manga and the main characters are all teenagers.

Why does Gojo send out teenagers to fight for him if he wants to protect them, well I just explained it.

In fact, the entire purpose of Nanami in the story is to give us a character who explicitly treats children like they are children and not miniature adults. Who acknowledges that this is emotionally hard for children to deal with and they shouldn't have to do that.

Nanami's lines of "I'm an adult you're a child" and "Being a child is not a bad thing." would not have the weight they carry if they weren't so different from the way that every other adult in the story (including Gojo) treats children.

Nanami and Gojo have the same goal of making being a Jujutsu Sorcerer easier for children, but Nanami practices what he preaches. He tells Yuji to stand back and that he doesn't need to fight if he sees an enemy that's too strong, to let the adult on scene handle things first.

When he sees that Yuji is disturbed by the idea of killing former humans that Mahito had changed with his technique, he consoles him. He knows that Yuji is a sensitive kid and tries to spare him as much of that grief as possible. When he leaves Yuji behind he tells him explicitly that he's the adult in this situation, he shouldn't be forcing a child to help carry that burden if it's not necessary.

He also explicitly tells Yuji that being strong or jumping into life threatening situations =/= as growing up. Nanami is a character aware that the problem isn't that the children are not strong enough, but that too much responsibility is being thrown on these children. That there is a difference between what children and adults are emotionally capable of. Gojo doesn't see that difference because he reached enlightenment as seventeen. He even explicitly chose Nanami because Gojo knew he wasn't good at that stuff.

Nanami was not saying that Gojo doesn't care about children, Nanami was saying Gojo lives to be a sorcerer, Gojo who loves sorcery doesn't understand why being a sorcerer is too much of an emotional burden on a child. He just doesn't. He literally says his students are flowers.

Now, here's the kicker. Nanami dies.

Nanami wanted Yuji to not take on too much responsibility, and he died leaving Yuji with more responsibility than he could ever carry. Nanami failed in his goal, despite the fact he is the most responsible and well-meaning adult in the story who treats children like they're children.

The reason he dies is because this is what happens to people like Nanami in Jujutsu Society. The whole of society is built to condition people into being cogs and Nanami who's just one person can't overcome it on his own. I can write a whole meta on how Nanami's way of dealing with children is way better than Gojo's and yet they do essentially the same thing, throw way too much responsibility onto Yuji even though he's just a kid. They're both too ingrained in the system to make any sweeping changes, and that's why the child soldiers keep on child soldiering.

Gojo as a Character

The second reason as eluded above that Gojo is not meant to be read as a perfect teacher, or even a good one really is because he's the fourth main character of the cast. If you are a main character, then you need a flaw, and an arc where you either improve upon that flaw or you succumb to it in tragic fashion.

Gojo's not the perfect adult mentor, because he's kind of in the same place as the kids themselves. I think there's a reason we never learn anything about Gojo's backstory, we know nothing about his parents, the Gojo clan, because those details aren't as relevant. The most important thing about Gojo is the three years he spent at high school, because that was the only time he felt like a person, and also because he is trapped there mentally.

There's a reason that Gojo's dying dream is him imagining everyone reset to seventeen years old, because that was where the clock stopped for him in his youth, and that was where all of his regrets as an adult come from. His motivation to help teenagers today only comes from his own youth being ruined, and the adults in his life failing to protect him.

It's very likely that Gojo who lives for Jujutsu probably would never have realized the problems in his current society, if his youth wasn't ruined by those same adults he's now fighting against.

The reason most mentor figures in fiction are not main characters is because as adults they don't really need to grow up anymore. The obvious solution is that you just need your mentor character to just fail to be an adult in some glaring way.

To show how Gojo falls short as an adult, especially in regards to these children and how he treats them is to drag him down from all powerful, all knowing wizard, and make him struggle with the rest of the main cast. Gojo is not a positive adult figure in these kids lives despite having the best of intentions, because he's not really an adult.

I guess if you were already the best and strongest person in the world at seventeen, smarter and more capable than all the adults around you, you wouldn't really feel the need to grow up. Coupled with the fact that you are alienated from other people and do not relate to them on a personal level that's not going to help with your identity formation.

I mean I constantly compare Gojo to Superman, but to be fair to Gojo instead of bullying him like I usually do Clark Kent was raised by parents who raised a boy not a superman, and who constantly tell him that he's just a normal person, his powers don't make him great, it's his heart.

Nanami says that Gojo only fights for himself that ""You don't wield Jujutsu to protect something, you use it solely to for your own sake. What a weirdo" it's likely Gojo only fights for himself because he's never ben told that's he's more than just the six-eyes and more than just the limitless.

The best way to make a mentor a part of the cast, is to make them through some way or another have failed to grow up properly in their youth and therefore they need to do it while the story is taking place. We know how Gojo failed, his springtime of youth ended early, it ended the day he couldn't stop Geto from leaving, the day he can be the strongest sorcerer ever and still fail because sorcerer society is too corrupt for one person to handle alone. We also know he didn't really grow up past this point, because he still thinks the solution is to make people be stronger. Why does he not do anything about Geto for 11 years? In story terms he's basically suspended in time unable to grow past Geto. Kenjaku literally uses the trauma from his youth and the memories that seeing Geto alive would provoke in Gojo again, to trap him because he knew it would make him freeze up. Gojo is frozen in the past, he failed to grow up in story terms and must now grow up while the main story itself is taking place along with the children he's trying to raise.

This is how you make a mentor interesting. You have to make them flawed in some way that makes it worth having them onscreen, because a perfect mentor only serves one purpose to teach a main character and then he's gone.

Dazai Osamu from Bungo Stray Dogs is a character that's almost as massively popular as Gojo. Similiarly, he is a teenage genius who found trouble relating to other people who is now as an adult attempting to mentor two children.

However, Dazai's faults as a mentor are made much more explicit.

Dazai suddenly punched Akutagawa in the face, preventing him from finishing his sentence. Akutagawa flew back onto the ground, his head bouncing off the stone flooring with a thud. "Perhaps I made it look like I wanted to hear excuses. Sorry for the misudnerstanding," Dazai said while rubbing his knuckles. "Urg..." Akutagawa moaned. He'd hit his head so hard that he couldn't even stagger to his feet. "Give me your gun," Dazai ordered one of his men. The subordinate was hesitant but nonetheless handed over his weapon. Next, Dazai removed the magaine from the automatic pistol, took out all but three bullets, then put the magazine back in. He immediately pointed the gun at Akutagawa, who was still on the ground. "I have this friend who's supporting several orphans all on his own, you see," he continued his weapon still drawn and aimed at the boy. "AKutagawa I'm sure Odasaku would've been patient enough to give you the guidance you needed had he been the one who'd found you on the brink of starvation right in the slums. That would have been the 'right' thing to do. But 'righteousness' doesn't take very kindly to me. And there's only one thing people like me do to useless subordinates." Dazai mercilessly pulled the trigger the moment he finished his sentence.

(Don't worry, Akutagawa lived). Dazai is a character who had a troublesome youth he never grew up from. He was too smart for the world as a kid, and because of that joined up with the mafia because he wanted to feel like he was more connected to life and other people by getting closer to death (weird dazai logic I know) and was the best of the best at it, but it only drove him further away from people. He makes one friend, and loses that friend similiar to Gojo. Just like Gojo too, that friend is the one who gives him his purpose as an adult that drives him to mentor young people.

"Odasaku.. What should I do?" "Be on the side that saves people," Odasaku replied, "If both sides are the same, then choose to become a good person. Save the weak, protect the orphaned. You might not see a great difference between right and wrong, but... saving others is something just a bit more wonderful."

Is this not what Nanami said just in different words. Odasaku tells Dazai point blank, I know you're selfish, I know that you don't really have any concept of good or evil but you can choose to save others anyway.

Isn't this what Gojo does?

He is selfish. He doesn't really consider the morality or his actions or get hung up on the idea of protecting the weak like Nanami or Geto do, but he still does go out of his way to live for the ideal of saving children.

Both Gojo and Dazai are characters who are struggling with this ideal of saving the children, because while their ideals are good they themselves as people are morally gray. Adding onto that, they're also children and a good deal of their backstory is devoted to showing why they never really grew out of the mindset that they held as children.

The story doesn't call them horrible monsters for it, it's just saying that they need to grow up or face the consequences of not growing up.

"I have one regret," I said. "I never got to say good-bye to my friend. He was always there for me as 'just a friend.' He was bored of this world and always waited for death to come for him." "That man was in search of a place to die just like me?" "No, not exactly," I answered. "I thought you were similiar to Dazai at first, rushing into battle and wishing for death without even considering the value of your own life. But he's different. He's sharp-witted with a mind like a steel trap. And he's just a child - a sobbing child abandoned in the darkness of a world far emptier of the world we're seeing." He was too smart for his own good. THat was why he was always alone. The reason why ANgo and I were able to be by his side was that we understood the solitude that surrounded him, and we never stepped inside it no matter how close we stood. But in that moment, I kind of regretted not stepping in and invading a little.

Does that sound like the narrative is condemning Dazai for being who he is? No, it's Dazai's best friend offering empathy and understanding for how lonely it must be, and how if Dazai made real connections with people then he could have a chance of growing up like everyone else. That's what the narrative challenges Dazai to do while empathizing with why it's harder for him to and why he's still trapped in his youth, because to take care of children you need to be an adult yourself. Otherwise if you're a child, and I'm a child, then nobody's driving the plane.

Rupert Giles from Buffy the Vampire Slayer is another mentor who faces the same moral dilemna that Gojo does. In fact his entire character revolves around the fact he knows deep down he's sending a kid to her early grave.

Buffy is the Chosen One TM. One girl in all the world is chosen to fight the vampires. Much like sorcerer society, there is an entire bureaucracy dedicated to identifying the chosen slayer and then raising her up and guiding her as a weapon to be used against the threat of vampires and demons.

The watchers are all adults. The slayer is a teenage girl. The slayer slays. The watchers watch. Just like in Jujutsu Kaisen, there is a necessity for the Slayer to exist, because the alternative is just letting vampires eat people. Yet even if the slayer needs to exist, at the end of the day a bunch of adult men are sending a teenage girl to fight for them.

All Slayers die young. All of them without an exception. No matter how good of a mentor is, no matter how much he cares about her, Buffy is going to die one day, and Giles is going to watch. Because that's what the watcher does, they watch. Sending her on missions means Buffy's in danger, not sending her means innocent people are in danger.

It's a scenario that's pretty much like Gojo's, and the narrative of Buffy makes it explicit that Giles really can't be a father figure to bufy in this scenario. A father would have to choose to put their child above the world and keep them safe, not send them out straight into danger.

It is a choice that Giles makes over and over again. He is always her watcher and never her father. There's a season 3 episode where Giles literally drugs Buffy as a part of a test to prove she is "worthy" of being a slayer. A test that deliberately puts her in harms way that he complies with - because the system told him to. A choice to be her watcher and act according to what the council of watchers wanted and not what Buffy wanted. A choice that shatters the illusion that Buffy had of him, showing her that Giles is only there to teach her to be a Slayer, not to take her to the iceapades or buy ice cream with her.

In this scenario Gojo is very much like Giles as no matter how much he may personally like these kids, he is not their father, and there is only so much he can do for them when he's still feeding them into the same system. Giles loves Buffy, Giles wants to protect Buffy, Giles is a part of the system that exploits Buffy. Giles is an adult asking Buffy to risk her life to save the world.

Gojo goes out of his way to recruit Megumi, Yuji, and Yuta among others. Gojo still doesn't let them be anything other than sorcerers, and as sorcerers they're still guaranteed to one day die and probably die young. Gojo wants to revolutionize the system he is, but he still sends out his students to do missions as part of that system. He's not letting them escape it, he's just making them be stronger sorcerers.

Not only is Gojo not a father figure to Megumi, he is exploiting him more or less. The option of Megumi not being a sorcerer isn't on the table. No matter how well-intentioned he may be, or how good his ideals are he's still an adult telling a child to make a sacrifice for the world.

So, there are two character conflicts with two different mentors that both reflect Gojo. Gojo cannot grow up because he's still trapped in the tragedy of his youth. He himself is not an adult, for various reasons (lack of connection to other people, trauma in his youth) he's egocentric like a child but there are children in his life who need him to be.

Gojo also cannot be a proper adult, because he is part of a system that exploits children. We see what the system does to proper adults like Nanami, he shows us just how much well-intentioned adults struggle to help kids under sorcerer society so how about Gojo who thinks being a sorcerer is really fun. A proper adult would never send kids on those missions, they'd find some way to shield them but Gojo cannot do that. Because sorcerers are short staffed and innocent people will die if he doesn't. Because Gojo isn't the sorcer-king of Jujtusu Society and is working within it to affect change. There are reasons, but still Gojo is failing to live up to his desire to protect children because he's not doing what a responsible adult should do in this situation.

Gojo's failures are two-fold, and yet it's because of those failures that he was a main character who got as much special plot attention as he did. If Gojo was a perfect teacher he wouldn't be a character. After all, we relate to the struggles of other human beings we see onscreen in television and in movies so why would we care about a perfect character?

Gojo has a lot more to say about teachers in shonen manga, and also about childhood vs. adulthood as a bad teacher struggling to be a good one, then a teacher who's already perfect. Nanami said those lines because he wanted us to understand the audience that this is who Gojo is, he is a selfish and egotistical person who nonetheless was trying to do good things.

#jjk meta #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #nanami kento #kento nanami #jujutsu kaisen meta #jujtusu kaisen #jjk spoilers #jjk 236 #jujutsu kaisen spoilers

[thelargefrye]

STARSEED : PERFECT LOVE … mature one - shot

pairing : king!hongjoong x concubine!m!reader (ft. concubine!seonghwa and guard!yunho)

genre : fantasy au, slight historical au, royal au, smut, romance, sprinkle angst (i'm sorry i just can't help myself)

word count : 3.7k

warnings : language, slight jealousy (mainly yn), mentions of working in a brothel

smut warnings : unprotected sex, anal sex, oral, slight cumplay / eating

note : for my secret santa @yourfatherlucifer! i hope you enjoy it and happy holidays!! no tag list for this since its a present!

as the king’s favorite, you had many advantages and most of those included being with king in a way no one else could.

something felt uneasy in your stomach. like a swarm of moths flocking around inside of you. it was a feeling you didn't like, but you couldn't figure out how to get rid of it.

"what's wrong, moonflower?" you look up at the voice that snaps you out of your dazed thoughts. your eyes easily lock with seonghwa's figure who is standing behind you. his features are so soft and comforting as he smiles down at you.

his hands come to rest on your shoulders, gently massaging them and you feel the uneasy go down. but not disappear. "hmm?" he cocks his head to the side and you swallow the lump in your throat.

"i don't know... i'm just nervous i guess."

"nervous? about what?"

"hongjoong hasn't requested to see me in a while," you say with a sigh as you feel seonghwa's fingers press into your shoulders and you slowly feel the knots go away. seonghwa always was good a massages.

"i'm sure he's just busy, y/n. he is our king after all," seonghwa tries to reassure you and you appreciate his attempt, but it still doesn't settle the uneasiness. you hate it.

it's been several days since hongjoong last came to see you or even requested for you to spend the night with him. basically almost a week, and he's never went longer than a day without coming to see you. you couldn't help the thoughts running through your mind. was he still interested in you? did he still love you like he claimed?

you know he hasn't been by himself. having heard that he's been requesting for seonghwa as of late. your eyes flicker back up to the male standing behind you. seonghwa... he was so beautiful and kind. you don't blame hongjoong for taking him as a concubine, because you too fell in love with him. it wasn't hard.

perhaps hongjoong has just fallen for seonghwa harder and enjoys his company more than yours. the uneasiness returns tenfold the longer you think about these questions.

"moonflower?" seonghwa's voice once again brings you back to the present, his hand coming to rest on your jaw as he turns it to look at you. his eyes filled with worry as he looks at you.

you don't want to admit it, but you're completely jealous of seonghwa. how could you not be jealous of your lover? even when you both were growing up, he was the star of the village that everyone either wanted to marry or be. even when your village was raided and you were both sold off to the brothel, seonghwa was seen as the favorite "jewel" that everyone wanted. you were always second place to him, your own lover.

hongjoong probably only kept you as a concubine because of seonghwa.

"y/n, what's wrong?"

you open your mouth to speak; however, a knock at your chamber doors stops you. it opens to reveal yunho stepping inside, his armor hugging him nicely as he stands tall and proud.

"excuse me for interrupting, but his highness as requested to see you, y/n," you feel your heart jump into your throat as you stand up. you feel your palms sweat at the negative thoughts that fill your head.

this is it, he's going to tell you that he doesn't want you anymore. he's going to dismiss you and you'll never see him or seonghwa or any of the others again.

"hey, y/n," seonghwa grasps your wrist and you turn to look at him. "come find me later. so we can talk, okay?"

"okay, hwa," he smiles at your words before he's quickly leaning over to kiss you. his lips feel soft against your skin and you have to will yourself to not melt into his touch. thankfully before you can he's pulling away, his touch lingering on your skin even when you walk out of your chambers and down the grand hall.

yunho trails behind you, not saying anything as he escorts you to hongjoong's personal chambers.

"thank you for escorting me, yunho," you say looking at the guard with a smile. yunho returns your smile, bowing his head a little bit and you can't help but think he might have gotten taller since you last saw him. he's definitely gotten buffer, probably training with san and yeosang instead of resting. his brown hair is soft looking and he looks much happier now than when he did years ago when you first met him.

"of course, y/n," he says before his eyes are darting down each end of the hallway. there's no one else but the two of you and yunho takes the chance to lift your hand up and kiss the back it. he lets go of your hand before he's standing tall and adjusting his armor before he's turning and making his way back down the hallway.

and then you're left alone in front of hongjoong's chamber doors. you feel an ugly twist in your stomach as you knock on the oak doors and wait for his voice to let you in.

"come in," god, how long has it been since you've heard his voice. even just hearing him speak is enough to make you weak.

opening the door, you are immediately greeted to the sight of hongjoong lounging at his table, sitting in one of his plush, velvet chairs. his royal garments have been discarded, leaving him in only his thin, silk blouse and black trousers. his brown hair framing his face perfectly and you feel a wave of butterflies fill your stomach as your heart beat picks up.

hongjoong turns to see who has arrived and upon seeing you, his stoic face quickly turns into one of happiness. he stands up and makes his way over to you as you close the door behind you.

"my moonflower," he says, arms open as he brings you into a hug. his strong scent fills your nostrils as his arms wrap around your form and you can't help but to return the hug as you bury your face into his neck. you hear hongjoong let out a small laugh as his hand comes up to run over your head. "i've missed you so much."

you can't help but doubt his words. the knowledge that he's been seeing seonghwa again and again comes crashing in. if he truly missed you then why did he wait till now to request you?

"i've missed you too, your highness," you tell him, you can't help the mix of emotions that swim through you. you want to question him, but you know it will do no good. it will only make you look jealous.

"come on now, y/n," he says with a grin as he pulls away just enough to look at you, "we're alone, there's no need to call me that."

you can't help but feel flushed at his words, "sorry, just a habit," you say a little embarrassed, but hongjoong brushes it off with a laugh. "so... did you call on me solely because you missed me?"

"ah, yes, i actually have something i want to talk to you about?" he says before he's taking you by the hand and guiding you to his lavish and overly large bed. you sit down when the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed.

"talk about?" you feel your nerves bubble up when you watch hongjoong walk away from you and over to his desk that is filled with an assortment of stuff, but mainly parchment papers with writing all over them. however, its none of the papers that he picks up, but a small ornament box instead.

hongjoong holds the box as if it will break any second before he's gently sitting down next to you on his bed. you look at the box with confusion before you're are looking back up at hongjoong.

"this box is very important to the royal family," he begins to say as he runs his hand over it. you take notice of the white moonflower – the lunar tear – craving on the top of it. "my mother gave this to me when i became king," he adds on and you can't help but feel your palms start to sweat. "when she gave it to me, she told me about the duty my family had to the goddess and to protect this box."

"what's inside it?" you couldn't help but ask as you reached your own hand out. not to touch the box, but to touch hongjoong's hand.

"my mother told me its the spirit of a great evil. that centuries and centuries ago, pandora's soul was trapped in this very box by the goddess," he explains and for a second you want to laugh at his words. you think he's messing with you, but when you look at his face you can tell he's serious.

however, despite this information he is sharing with you, you can't help but want to ask him the one question that stands in your brain. "why are you showing me something this valuable, hongjoong?"

"because, my moonflower," he says with a smile as his hand comes up to cup your face. "i want to give it to you, to protect for me."

"me? h-hongjoong have you gone crazy or something?" you are completely caught off guard by his words. he wants to give you the box that supposedly has the soul of the most evil spirit the world has seen.

pandora is a person of myth; however, its been proven throughout the history of the world that she was just as real as you and hongjoong are. her goal was to bring about the end of the world. how she attempted to bring about the end of the world tended to change slightly, but her goal was still the same. kill any and everything.

and here, hongjoong was giving you this box to trust and hold. "hongjoong..."

"i'm giving entrusting this box because i know i can trust you," he says, leaning over as his lips ghost over your cheek. you feel a chill run down your spine as you look towards your lover right as he rests his forehead against yours. "my favorite flower, the one i love the most," he adds softly as he places the box into your hands.

his words make your heart skip a beat as his hands come up to cup your face. his breath fans against your lips as his hovers closely to yours. just centimeters from touching yours.

"but that's only if you accept the box, my love, i won't force you to take it," he says and that's when you're reminded of the weight in your hands from the small metal box.

you take a deep breath before answering, "of course, i’ll guard it with my heart, joongie." the king's smile is enough to make your heart do a flip.

“that’s not the only reason why i summoned you here though,” hongjoong said, his usual grin on his face as he gently takes the box and sets it on his bedside table.

you feel hongjoong tug on your sleeve and you turn to see his eyes filled with lust and longing and you can't help the smile that tugs at your own lips. "its been way too long since we have been one, don't you think?"

"yes it has, my king."

hongjoong's chamber was filled with a mixture of your moans and the sound of skin slapping skin. your legs were spread wide and you were practically bent in half as hongjoong pounded away at your hole. you couldn't help but arch your back as how hongjoong's cock filled you up.

"you take me so well, moonflower," hongjoong says a grin painting his lips as one of his hands wrap around your own cock, he gives it a firm squeeze that makes you cry out. your lover can't help but let out a laugh as he watches you wither underneath him.

"n-ngh! joongie! p-please!" you cry out as you feel hongjoong hit your sweet spot as he continues to stroke your cock. his thumb runs over your slit and it slowly begins to leak pre-cum that hongjoong uses as lube to stroke you off quicker.

"please what, love? use your words," he's clearly mocking you as he leans down to kiss you before he's pulling out of you and turning you onto your stomach. you can't help but moan at how hongjoong handles you like you were nothing.

"h-hongjoong," you can't help but moan as you feel hongjoong lick at your puckered hole as his hand grabs at your cock again and begins to jerk you off once more. "a-ah fuck! fuckfuckfuck!"

hongjoong laughs as he licks at your hole before he's pulling away. "does it feel good, moonflower?"

"y-yes s-so-so good, joongie!"

you let out another moan when you feel hongjoong enter you once again. you can't help but let out a sigh at hongjoong not only filling you up once again, but also at him finally leaving your poor cock alone. both his hands grip your hips tightly and he begins thrusting into you once again.

you grip the sheets below you tightly as you can't help but feel your eyes roll back as hongjoong's cock massages your prostate. you clench around him tightly as you feel your orgasm build up the longer he fucks you.

"you're so perfect, my flower," hongjoong says as he presses his chest against your back. his hands wandering over your body before they stop of play with your nipples and pinching them harshly which causes you to let out loud cry. "you take my cock so well and your body was made for me."

"n-ngh, yes joongie, only yours," you say in your fucked out daze as you felt hongjoong trail his lips down your back. you felt a pleasurable chill run over your body when hongjoong licks up your spin before his arms are wrapping underneath your armpits in order to pull you up off the bed.

you're pressed flush against hongjoong as he continues to abuse your hole, pounding away as he uses you for his pleasure. not that you mind, you would happily allow hongjoong to use your body to his heart's content in order to pleasure himself and make himself happy.

"you're so beautiful," he says before kissing your cheek. "i love you so much, moonflower," he says and the nickname that him and seonghwa and others always use for you makes your heart skip a beat. you remember when hongjoong had overheard seonghwa call you that nickname and how he had asked if he could call you that ask well.

"if i could marry you, i would in a heartbeat, but t-those bastard ad-visors of mine– fuck!" hongjoong cuts himself off as he does a particularly hard thrust before he's stilling himself inside of you for a moment.

he slowly lets you go as you rest back on his sheets, the cold material feels good against your hot skin. hongjoong moves once more to hover above you as he leans down to kiss you again.

"i wanted to ask..." he begins as he moves at a slower pace this time. "if you would come with me on my next campaign. i can't bare being without you and so i want you to be with me."

"r-really?" his question catches you off guard as you turn to look at him with just as much shock as you feel.

"yes," he says with a little laugh. "i've been trying to find a way to ask you since i got back from my last one and i even asked seonghwa if i should ask you. he scolded me for trying to hog you too much, but he eventually told me to just ask and so... yeah, here i am."

"fuck– hongjoong, of course!" you say when you feel his tip rub against your sweet spot. hongjoong gives you a teasing smile.

hongjoong doesn't say anything as he kisses you one last time before he's focusing back on making the two of you come. and when you finally do, you moan at how you feel hongjoong pumping you full of his cum. you know that when he pulls out, it will leak out of you knowing how much cum the king has.

you are left a panting mess as you feel your own cum panting your stomach. hongjoong pulls out slowly and you whine at how empty you feel as your lover turns you onto your back to look at the mess he had cause.

you watch as hongjoong bends down before licking up most of your cum that painted your skin. he then moves to lean over you before kissing you and you cringe at how you taste yourself on his lips and you can tell hongjoong is enjoying himself.

when he pulls away from your lips, you can't help but pout as he smiles at you softly before he's rolling over to lay next you. he brings his hand up to rest on your waist as he pulls you closer to you.

"i love you, my king," you said and hongjoong looks at you fondly as you brush some hair out of his face.

"i love you too, my moonflower."

its a few hours later when you are finally leaving hongjoong's chambers. your lover of course begged you to stay with him longer, pleading to spend the entire night with him, but you turned him down. not because you didn't want to spend the rest of the night in his embrace, but because you needed to find seonghwa.

you wanted to talk to him as a way to clear your conscious from those jealous thoughts you had earlier.

you kissed hongjoong's pouty lips, "next time we can spend the entire night together, my king."

"yeah, yeah, just go before i change my mind in letting you leave," his tone is full of tease as he rests on his side, his silk blankets the only thing covering his nude body.

you let out a laugh as you reach for the box before making your way out of his chambers and down the hall before you are arriving at the wing that has both yours and seonghwa's private chambers.

standing outside of seonghwa's chambers, you feel a sense of nervousness settle on you as you try to build up the fleeting courage to knock on his door.

then without a second thought, you knocked on his door. you bit your lip as you waited for your lover to open the door, and it felt like ages before you heard the door opening.

your eyes immediately met seonghwa's bright and shining ones. and then he beamed a bright smile at you when he realized who was at your door.

"ah, y/n!" he says your name and you can't help want to hear him say again and again, over and over. "did you go see hongjoong?"

"yeah, i just got back," you tell him and the box he gifted you feels heavy in your hands as you look at seonghwa. "b-but i wanted to talk to you, can i... can i come in?"

"of course, moonflower," seonghwa says before letting you, "how did your visit with hongjoong go?" he asks once the two of you are in his room and away from any prying eyes.

seonghwa had stripped you of your clothes, a wet rag in his hands as he wipes down your body. you felt a warmth spread over you as you felt seonghwa's hands roam around your body. you had to stop yourself from moaning when his hand wrapped around your cock.

"so..." seonghwa begins after he finished wiping you off, "what did you want to talk about?" his head tilts to the side as he watches you redress yourself.

"i wanted to apologize for earlier," you say, feeling embarrassed now that you say it out loud.

"what for, y/n?" seonghwa asks as he comes to sit down next to you on his bed. he takes your hands into his warm ones and sweet scent makes you want to melt into his embrace.

"i thought hongjoong was going to dismiss me from being his concubine because he had been seeing you more than me recently. i was... scared that i would never be able to see you again."

"oh, y/n, i would never let that happen," he says pulling you into his embrace. your head rests against his chest, your cheek pressing into the soft material of his blouse. "i love you so much."

you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by his confession, tears brimming at your waterline as you wrapped your arms around him. "i'm sorry for being jealous, i'm sorry for not being good enough like you."

"you hush now, don't think like that, my love. you are more than enough for me, that's why i love you." you peer up at seonghwa to see him smiling down at you. his hand runs through your hair before he's cupping your face and kissing you.

you immediately melt into the kiss as your hands pull him closer to you. seonghwa moves in order to lay you down onto his bed with him hovering overtop of you. both his and your own hands roam over each other's body, pulling away your clothes so that you are both bare and pressed up again each other like you have been so many times before in the past.

seonghwa kisses down your body, his hands squeezing your flesh as he leaves his own trail of lovebites next to and around the ones hongjoong had left.

and then seonghwa is entering you, your warm hole welcoming his cock as he milks your prostate. your moans fill his chamber as his hips meet your ass and you can't help but feel loved by seonghwa.

eventually, you reach your climax with seonghwa before you're laying together in his bed. the two of you lay so close to each other that your noses graze each other whenever one of you moves.

"seonghwa?"

"yes, y/n?"

"we'll be together forever, right? nothing's going to tear us apart?"

"no, never. together forever." you two share a brief kiss before seonghwa is pulling you to rest your head against his chest. seonghwa smiles down at you before his eyes flicker up at pandora's box that sits idly on the bedside table behind you.

network : @cultofdionysusnet @cromernet

#codn: santa23 #cultofdionysusnet #cromernet #kdiarynet #ateez x reader #ateez blurbs #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez hongjoong x reader #ateez x male reader #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x male reader #ateez royal au #ateez fantasy au

[babyyoda234]

Tea Time with Alfred

Context: Alfred has always been a close family friend of your Grandma. After her death both of you haven't been dealing with the grief very well, so you decide to start hanging out more to ease the pain. (Y/G/N: your grandma’s name)

Knocking on the door to Wayne Manor, I fumble with the basket of muffins in my left hand. A very confused Jason opens the door.

"Look Y/N..." He begins awkwardly shifting his balance. Guilt spreads across his sculpted features.

"With love, I'm not here for you." I interrupt putting my hand up to silence him, "Whatever you have to say, save it for another time."

Brushing past him, I wander down the hallway past a dozen or so portraits of the Wayne family. With the high ceilings and shelves filled with books older than my great Grandma, I narrowly get lost in the grandeur. One of the glass shelves catches my attention. A much younger looking Alfred beams up at me while a soaked brunette angrily swats at his shoulder with a shoe. My heart contracts when I recognize the woman. Years before she got sick, Y/G/N was radiant. Although the photo is in black and white, I know for certain she is wearing her faithful orange sweater that was in rags by the time I came around. The photo reads: Alfred's revenge London 1965. My eyes well up with tears at the thought of her being so healthy. The image of how frail she looked in that hospice bed will forever be burned in my heart.

The next photo over shows Alfred, Grandma, and I at my first visit to Gotham. Freshly nine, Gotham was such an adventure. Driving into the city was... nothing short of magical. There may have been crime in every corner, but her stories brought much needed light into the city. My 9 year old self hadn't yet grown into herself. With cracked glasses I had broken moments prior and aggressively neon braces, my fashion had a long way to go. I was probably too big to go on Alfred's shoulders at that point, but he picked me up anyway for the walk around the city. The crowded boardwalk behind us sold the best deep fried oreos in Gotham city. A teenager at the time, Dick had convinced me that the secret ingredient was cocaine... As an adult looking at Gotham city, that joke may not be too far off.

The infamous smell of Alfred's baking grounds me to the present. Dickie isn't stealing my gameboy anymore. He's happily living in Bludhaven revamping their police force. Shit, I really need to call him back. How do you tell someone that if you talk about it there is no guarantee that the crying will ever stop?

It doesn't matter what he’s been saying. It's better to not burden him with this. I take a deep breath to avoid a breakdown. Cookies. Tea time. Glancing at my watch, I realize I'm five minutes late. Classic y/n.

Alfred's back is to me when I finally stumble into the kitchen. A mischievous grin emerges on my face as I creep closer making a conscious effort to silence my footsteps. Jason used to say that watching the two of us sneak up on each other was like watching a cheetah stalking its prey. Of course, Alfred always made it look so easy though. Halfway there....

Stirring a bowl of brownie batter by hand, he calls out to me.

"You've got to do a lot better than that if you want to sneak up on me."

I stifle a laugh throwing my hands up in surrender.

"Sorry Alfie.... Old habits die hard. You would not believe what happened to me today..."

Conversing with the older man fills a void, I have been missing. Telling him about life made everything less scary. If I can spin these horrifying events into a joke during tea time.. well I guess I can survive it.

Alfred isn't one to diverge intense grief, yet I will never forget how heartbroken he was when he explained how painful it was to talk to me. Although our features may be completely different, it was the mannerisms that hurt the most to see: the way I held my hands when I was nervous, the anxious laughter in stressful situations, the silly regency romance novels that sat on my bedside table, the intense hatred of the barren winter... My entire being has been shrouded by her love. For better or worse.

The first couple months, I could almost pretend she wasn't gone. Working two jobs while attending school doesn't give me much time to reflect. However, the holidays left an unspoken hollow void. The empty seat at dinner. The contact I would instinctively dial. The horrible sinking in my chest when I remembered the phone would ring forever.

At the beginning, I think we both pretended we were talking to her. Now as I cackle over his photo collection of Tim falling asleep in public places, I realize how much I love the man who was so important to her. This pain may always stay with me, but what is grief if not love persevering?

#batfamily #alfred pennyworth #batfamily fluff #dc x reader #batfamily x reader #red hood x reader #dick grayson x reader #bruce wayne #batman #dc comics #batbros #batfam #dick grayson #nightwing x reader #tim drake x reader #tim drake #red robin #red hood #grief #dealing with grief #loss #grief/mourning #things will get better #Alfredxgrandaughter reader

[ieatangstforbreakfast]

Pairing ೃ⁀➷ 𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝟒𝟐! 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 x Fem! Reader

Summary ೃ⁀➷ Lovers have secrets of their own, no matter how much they come to trust each other, whether it be a past mistake or an unspoken trauma. For you and Miles, however, your secrets came in the form of hidden identities— one being a masked vigilante, and the other a mastermind.

Genre ೃ⁀➷ Forbidden love, mutual pining, angst♡

Tags ೃ⁀➷ Both are artists, reader is from a very wealthy family, both are living double lives, underaged smoking, reader is female and uses she/her pronouns, forbidden love (ish?), swearing, daddy issues, mommy issues, reader is unhinged, both are mentally unstable, lots of flirting.

Author's Note ೃ⁀➷ i thought about this plot over and over, and I hesitated publishing it since i don’t want to deviate so much from everything but i said fuck it, so now ere i am, greeting y’all with ‘wassup villain’

Tag list ೃ⁀➷ @sakura-onesan @coffeeandtealol @luvjunie @noetophat @proudgojofucker @depresssedcowboy @shuna-boin

⚠️ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⚠️ Mommy issues, mention of death,, profane language, plot progression. Pronouns keep shifting bc Miles thinks you’re a guy. A bit confusing? Anyways, congrats with your debut. I’ve got uh.. A little surprise? Enjoy.

FIC MASTERLIST

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"Park behind the building B, McLaren. I’ll have to deal with a separate matter, for now, call backup."

"Yes, miss."

Ring. Ring.

Your head pivots at the sound of your phone’s ringing, eagerly answering the call without having to look into the ID, knowing a thing or two about a certain someone’s timing.

“What’s going on so early in the morning?” Your father haggardly asks. You could already smell the stench of his morning breath from the car.

“We have trespassers in the Warehouse.” You start. “Two of them, partners. The duo we know as the Prowlers.”

“What?” You hear the morning grogginess laced in his voice. “Who leaked the information?”

“I’ve updated Morrison and he’s currently investigating the black market. I suspect a traitor.”

“Evidence?”

“There’d been no reports of outsiders entering the vicinity. All employees have been given fake addresses and all of their gadgets have been monitored— and so far, no one’s been flagged, so my guess is.. A higher up who’s sold us out.”

There you go.

“… I’ll look into it.” Your father mumbles. “Make sure that nothing is released into the media. The election is coming soon, we don’t want to do anything that’ll stir the public.”

“Understood.”

And the call ends just like that.

You blankly look at the road ahead of you, skin itching from the tightness and texture of your leather coat. Laid before your lap was a flat screen, in it were nine boxes— each playing a variety of scenes brought to you by the hidden cameras. Across every box, two swift figures maneuvered past the rooms with incredible ease. Several workers and scientists were sprawled across the jagged floors, motionless like corpses. You grimaced at the possibility of them being dead, but after seeing the thick gas emanating throughout every crevice of the building, you safely assumed that they were simply knocked out.

The Warehouse housed one of your father's investments; an Oscorp-Alchemax experiment funded by the elites, done underground and tested on prisoners to find some sort of super serum. When the new money folks thrusted themselves into the world of High society, most of the higher elites came to applaud the idea of one man.

Harry Osborn.

As a kid, you grew up aspiring to be like Harry. Always so friendly and approachable to anyone and everyone he’s ever met.

He did it so effortlessly that you recognized his niceness as a talent.

Harry came from second generation money— hailing this scientific empire called Oscorp. Having been brought up by his father, Norman, who was an industrialist, Harry was all things sciencey.

After his father's death, Harry sought out a blueprint of his father's past works, finding a journal containing the records of several hypotheses in regard to a variety of drugs. A sort of instruction to turn into a superhuman being, he claims, that his father had put into mind but never really practiced.

A handful of the higher-ups adored the impressionable idea, one of its primary investors being your father. You never really understood his reasons, but when the drug seemingly began showing fruitful results, your father set you up under Antonne's name to supervise Warehouse 317 after Harry entrusted your family to house the experiment.

So at that moment, you weren't you.

And Miles wasn't Miles.

He didn’t know what he was doing here. But he never bothered to really ask since his Uncle seemed tense all throughout the journey.

When Aaron told him to strap up for a sudden mission, he wasn't expecting a raid— nor was he expecting him to bring him to a hidden laboratory containing all these alien-like fuckeries. From glass beakers to drums filled to the brim with some sort of neon liquid, it all varied in levels of strangeness. Everywhere he looked, he could find the same circular, yellow warning sticker staring right back at him. Behind his digital mask, he skims past the unconscious workers— checking every crevice to see if anyone had escaped the incapacitating agent.

“According to the drive, the stuff are located in the north building.” His uncle’s voice snaps him out of the haze. “I’ll be heading there. I’m sure you can fend for yourself?”

“F’course I can,” Miles answered. “I can knock a bitch or two out with these.” He grinned while unfoldding his claw.

“You kiss your mama with that mouth? Watch yo tongue.”

“Yes, sir.”

Aaron pats his shoulder. “Record the evidence, I’ll go find the blueprints.”

With a single nod, Miles sets off with his mission in mind. When the holographic interface materializes from his wrist-mounted control panel, he activates the scanner with a light tap. The digitalized purple light cascades over the room, gathering physical data with each passing step.

He prided in his cut-edge tech— developed into great usage by his and his uncle’s hands. In a way, it reassured him that he had epically great potential, despite the current crisis going on in the city. But of course, his greatest pride was the fact that you liked the idea of the Prowler. That alone harbored him confidence he never knew he had.

Miles never initially thought of himself as a hero, no matter how much he’s worked to save the lower class of New York. Heroes existed in the confines of comic books and kids’ TV shows. He wasn’t super, and he wasn’t a hero either. The term was black and white. Narcissistic, as you would put it.

But he liked playing along to the idea of being a superhero to you.

He wanted you to gawk and admire his vigilante identity. He wanted you to look at the TV early in the morning with a mug of coffee in your hands, pointing at the screen with a squeal, ‘It’s the Prowler!’

Most of all, he wanted you to know about it eventually.

When he passes by the computers, Miles heads straight for the manila folders, unraveling his gauntlet just to grasp the files better.

[ 11 | 10 | 2020 ]

•[𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝: #𝟷𝟷𝟹𝟸] 𝙳𝚊𝚢 𝟻𝟼

𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎. 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚞𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜. 𝚍𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚊 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚡𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚢 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗.

𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝. 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝.

With the slightest jolt of his palm, the paper crumbles, and behind it sat another file. He peers through it diligently, only to find a name signed at the bottom.

And it crumples from the clamp of his fist.

Anthony Primo-Chávez.

The surname, Primo-Chávez, was the household name of the family who owns the Primm Hotel, and a single mention of it alone only reignited the anger he was sparing for the upcoming plans. All of the rage he kept to himself was seeping out the cracks of his still-grieving heart, and the grief remained a permanent scar.

And with a whisper of the wind, the warehouse falls into darkness.

There was this chill crawling up his back, and it haunted him. And in the silence that surrounded him, he calls out for his uncle.

And it echoes, and echoes. No one replies. Only the silence answered to his desperate calls. At that point, all that he could hear was the sound of his own heart beating out of his chest— a sort of morbid reminder that he was still alive. It made him wonder if that was all his father heard when he was trapped beneath the fallen carcass all those years ago. Just like that carcass, in the midst of all that darkness, screams begin to bellow.

Oh. One of the scientists have woken up.

But all Miles could picture was all what could’ve happened that night, when everything fell apart. Did they scream like this? Call out for help like this? Did his father struggle to breathe like this?

A lone light shines above the metal rails— a watch window, large and square, gleaming in this daunt violent that flickered and flickered. There was a figure there, dark, willowy, and invasive in the way it stared.

Unmoving, watching. A gaze that lingered like the chill running down his back.

What did they do in here?

Like a croak, the question bubbles up his throat and releases.

“Who are you?”

Like a growl, the voice changer emits the query a too many tones lower. At that question, the being tilts its head.

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

Velvety, low, exhausted— and it oozed from the broadcaster mic like a tease. You stared at the Prowler, almost amused by his size. From above, he seemed much tinier, like less of a threat. You feel your breath cascade against the lenses of your gas mask, sweat sticking to the leather of your gloves. There, you see the digitalized magenta and the gleam of his steel claws, as though he meant to intimidate. You stood partially befuddled at the fact that the vigilante everyone revered and loathed was likely a teenager.

“… You don’t know what this place is, don’t you?”

Ｂ　Ｏ　Ｏ　Ｍ.

The wall beside him crumbles into dust.

Miles shields himself from the impact, the cement’s fumes blinding his sights. Upon the activation of his night vision, he searches in behind the violet screen, finding only his uncle emerging from the smoke and debris, rushing with a USB in his hands. Behind him, a flock of guards came rushing in with their ray guns— flames of red bursting into a shower as the man signaled him to run.

Miles casts a quick glance at the window above.

No one’s there.

“ＥＶＡＣＵＡＴＥ ＡＬＬ ＥＭＰＬＯＹＥＥＳ

ＩＭ ＭＥＤＩＡＴＥＬＹ. ＩＭ ＭＥＤＩＡＴＥＬＹ.”

The digital voice commands along with a blaring alarm.

The warehouse that housed this elaborate labyrinth, it continued on and on like a maze. Bland green tiles and white walls, glass screens— like a pattern he immediately grew to dislike. It all went on and on like a fever dream, but Miles’ head was ringing with the sight of the man he saw up the window.

And he lays it all out in his mind, trying to piece it altogether.

Ｂ　Ｏ　Ｏ　Ｍ．

The walls click and collapse, and the floors shake, but Miles doesn’t look back. The sound of the guards’ heavy stomps cease though, eventually replaced with a sort of screech that irked his ears.

It was unfamiliar to him. He’s faced over a hundred bad people, but only the sight of that being unsettled him more than the rest.

“Up ahead!”

He watches as his Uncle heads right out the window with a fall, the shards ricocheting behind him like specs of snow as he throws a carabiner right back at Miles to snatch. His fingers thinly reach for the cord when he’s suddenly assaulted to the ground with a powerful force.

Ｃ　Ｒ　Ａ　Ｓ　Ｈ.

“Agh!” He grumbles in pain, rolling down to the ground. But even then, it wasn’t the pain that made every hair on his limb stand, it was the sound of your heeled boots clicking against the tiles, and the sound of your metal blade scraping against the wall.

“Mornin’, Prowler.”

Exhaustion made the delivery deeper. He senses it in you, and you sense it him. Though he was unaware of what your head was actually filled of, I’ve got a lecture at nine, I still have to do my literature essay, and I want to sleep. Miles wasn’t all that interested at all in what your mind bore. To be fair, from where he was, Miles only saw this figure towering over him with a long knife poking out its sleeve. Some gas mask, and a black leather coat. Even then as you stood above him, he could only watch as you fixed your gloves, pulling farther beneath your sleeve.

“It’s an honor to meet you like this.”

Fwip. With a crisp cut, the cord that connected him to his partner was severed. You throw it out the window along with the metal piece. “I’m not so usually cruel, but you’re trespassing my family’s property—“

“So this is your family’s property.” He stands back up, hands aching to fight. “Primo-Chávez. As I recognized.”

He claws at you, but instead, the metal meets the end of your unsheathed blade with a clink!

“You’re smart.” And when you pull away, he stumbles backward. “Let’s see if that’ll save you.”

Crack! The walls quivered as Miles narrowly avoided the blade aimed for his neck. He raises his gauntlets, lunging right at you with swift punches, to which you countered gracefully with quick blocks. Eventually, he manages to take hold of your shoulders, shoving you back with feet tangled like knots. You lower down and hook your heel over his ankle, pulling with force as he falters.

You crack your neck, pressing your heel over his shoulder to keep him down. “I’ll be honest with you, I think you’re awfully underwhelming.” You lean down to his level, musing yourself in the way he heaved.

“But I can forgive all that.” Your fingers fiddle with the strap of his backpack. “You’re useful in a way—“

With a gauntlet over your neck, he slams you against the wall.

“I ain’t working for nobody,” He churned. “And I definitely won’t be fucking working for people like you.”

“I never said you had to work for me.” You calmly replied despite his grip. “You just have to make better decisions from now on.”

“Fuck you mean by that?”

From the ache your neck bore, you knew it was gonna leave a bruise.

“Aren’t you supposed to be smart?”

He furrows his brows at that statement, holding himself back as he taunts. “… I wonder how your father is going to abandon you once I set this little investment of his on fire.”

Rather than the silence or panic he hoped, Miles heard you laugh.

“Do it.” You playfully suggest. “Do it, and kill all the other interns, employees, and guards in here.” Despite your façade, he could still sense the smirk creeping up your lips. “Then think to yourself, ask yourself; are you any better than my family?”

That alone catches him by surprise.

“… You’ve got a lot to learn.”

“What do you m—“ Before he could even finish off his sentence, a powerful strike ricochets into his stomach, sending him off to the other wall. A loud grunt emanates from his lips, hands gripping the lower of his belly as you set your foot down. “The next time we meet, do promise me that you’ll be much more of a promising opponent. Today was.. Eventless.” Your gaze sets sights on the camera hidden in the corner.

“For now, I’ll have to let someone else do the job.”

As though on cue, you see his partner rush in with the broken cord in his hand. The same broken cord you’d thrown out. Without another word, he lunges at you with lightning speed, and the way you collide with the glass wall sends ripples across the corridor.

“You goddamn son of a bitch.”

“Long time no see.”

Ｃ　Ｒ　Ａ　Ｓ　Ｈ.

And from then on, Miles watches as this figure and his uncle battled amidst the labyrinth. But your words struck him hard, ‘Long time no see’— what did that mean? Did his uncle have a sort of connection to the elites, or has he worked for the upper class before?

With how his punches flew, Miles sensed this sort of undying rage that crackled with the quiver of his Uncle’s fist.

Why did this battle seem so natural? Like the two of them know each other’s moves too well.

“I see you’ve resigned.” You curtly brought up, grunting as he mercilessly charges at you. “And seems like you’ve brought a little something with you.” Upon the mention of Miles, Aaron struck back with a blow, feigning ignorance at your words. Despite your state, you managed to put up a great fight. “Why did you bring him here? He doesn’t seem fit for the job—“

“Stop the small talk, Antonne.”

Antonne.

Anthony Primo-Chávez.

“I’m simply being polite,” You grinned. “It’s been a while, don’t you think so too?”

With that alone, Miles somehow confirmed that the figure was the heir of the hotel in the flesh. The man responsible for the deaths of many— the man responsible for the death of his father. But something felt wrong, like a sense that was gnawing at his guts.

He couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly.

Just of now, Miles realizes that he had no place here, at least, not yet. But he was just as confused as the other guy, why did his uncle bring him here if it was too dangerous?

“Is your sister also a piece of shit like you?”

Sister?

“She’s a little more pacifist than all of us.”

You lie so naturally, it was like second-nature to you— as though it was your second, utterly ridiculous hobby next to scheming. To play the part of Antonne was excruciating enough, but it was enjoyable in a way. You haven’t seen the Prowler for about four years— last seeing him when you were twelve, when he worked for the Fisks until his abrupt resignation. Next thing you and the elite knew, the mercenary who once worked for the high-class was now a vigilante working against them.

No one particularly knew the reason why. You somewhat guessed what it was.

And when the both of you crashed past the danger zone, you knew that the situation was way beyond your grasps from this point on, and the best you could hope for was a perfect gamble.

The man grabs all that he could in his anger, from glass beakers to steel rods, he figures splashing you with whatever thing he could find can help in making you perish from his sights.

You fight back, without the usage of anything else except the blade, only until Aaron repeatedly smashes your head inside a closed-off frozen cage. The two of you fall right in, breaking some sort of container in the process.

“What the fuck?”

Like a flame, it sears your skin— causing you to panic and recklessly pat away at the tar-like substance enveloping you in its sticky embrace. Without even a shriek, it consumes your system entirely, sending you down on your knees.

And the next thing you know, everything else fades into black.

Aaron pulls away, in shock of the dark matter unveiling before him. Immediately, he places a hand over Miles’ eyes, ushering him away.

From afar, they could hear the police sirens coming.

“Let’s— let’s go.” Aaron hurriedly commands.

“Uncle Aaron.”

Miles exhaustively calls out to him.

“Uncle Aaron!”

As his mask unfolds, Miles squints as the sunlight seeping from the tall trees welcomes him, shielding his face with his hands while trudging across the stones to meet his Uncle’s steps. Aaron pauses for a moment, taking only one look back.

“Why’d you bring me there?” Miles directly starts. “I wasn’t strong enough to be there— who was that guy? How- How did you suddenly know about the location of the warehouse, how did— I don’t— I-I have school in three hours, I don’t get why you had to bring me along—“

“That girl you’re seeing,” Aaron intervenes without a waste of breath. “What’s her last name?”

Miles takes a step back, furrowing his brows.

“[L/n].”

Aaron nods. “… It’s the same as the file.”

“What?”

“Bring her to dinner.”

Now everything further confused him, what did you have to do with all of this?

“I-I can’t bring her to dinner yet— what do you mean part of the f— we haven’t even gone on a date yet!”

The date set for tomorrow. The trick-or-treating date Miles had always longed for. Aaron tosses his hand upward. “Just make it quick and let me meet her.” He commands in a rush, pacing his steps faster. “We’ve got to get moving before they find us.”

“But— I don’t get it. What does [Y/n] have to do with all of this?"

Aaron stops for a moment, looking up before heaving a long, jagged sigh.

“… I got a file last night. Sent by an anonymous number. Someone managed to take a picture of you and your girl earlier when you were walking her home.”

Hearing this, a bundle of worries begin to churn in Miles’ mind. This whole night enough was messy for him, and he couldn’t understand why things were getting so complicated. Like what Antonne said earlier, it was ingrained into his mind, Aren’t you supposed to be smart?

“Along with the pictures, I got sent a file. [Y/n] [L/n], is..” Aaron consequently looks into his nephew’s eyes, a sort of hesitation imbued in his system. “Somewhat connected to the Primos.”

Miles halts entirely, and over and over, like how he’s always asked for the last hour. “What?”

“I.. I’ll just tell you when we get home.”

It was many years ago, when your mother endowed this habit of sitting you down by her vanity just to comb your hair and fix you up like a doll.

At that time, you were a tiny little girl with tiny little legs that were unable to reach the floor, instead opting to dangle them with light kicks from your seat— thinking you were some kind of mermaid. During those times, you could only spot at least the whole of your head staring right back at you, but rather than yourself, you marveled at the sight of your mother and her clothes.

The colors she wore were patterned in dates. Mauve, pink, white, and sometimes vermilion in special occasions. Those were the days she used to pick out your clothes for you, and whenever you complained about the color being too bright or dull, your mother would claim that she'd know your colors the best.

As you got older, and when you started dressing for yourself, in the colors you liked, and in the sort of mauve and pink that suited you, you watched as your mother would stare at you from afar with an irate frown, and silently, you'd think to yourself.

Even in the way I rebel against you, you still see yourself in me, because when you look at me, you see only a mirror of your younger self grimacing in disgust. You'd come so far to convince yourself that you're at the height of your being, but your daughter and your child-self only sees mediocrity.

…

“Miss?”

A flurry of people. Lots of talking. You despised that.

“Miss, are you awake?”

“[Y/n], wake up this instant!”

And at your father’s instruction, your eyes peel open almost immediately. You’re greeted with the sight of the ceiling, and your skin covered in warmth. You look at yourself, finding bruises all over your arms, still wearing your white dress shirt and formal pants. Silently, you force yourself to sit up despite the ache you felt, wincing as you spot several faces surrounding you. There was your father, pacing back and forth, certainly distressed about something; Antonne, with his arms crossed, sitting by the edge of your bed; some physician, silently standing by the side with her hands clasped together; and Harry Osborn standing alongside her.

“What’s going on in here?” You haphazardly asked.

“You almost died.” Antonne stirs the silence. “The Warehouse was set on fire, and you were still inside.”

“The warehouse was set on fire!?” You jolt up, only now realizing the dirty looks from your father. “That’s impossible, how could—“

“There were traces of gasoline.” Emerging from the doors, your father approaches you with a sort of chagrin in his glare. “Since you failed to capture or at least slow down the perpetrators, that happened.”

“… You’re placing the blame on me?” You ask, hardly believing your ears.

“We’re not—“ Just as Harry’s about to speak, your father intervenes. “Yes, we are. Because of your incompetence, we lost millions worth of money in damages!”

“Sir, calm down.”

“Father, this is what I’ve been telling you about.” Antonne pinches the bridge of his nose. “She’s sixteen! How could she have possibly fought against a mercenary!?”

“I did better than you.” Poison spewed from your lips, losing all sort of rationality. “This has never happened before. Whenever there was something any of you asked me to do, I did my very best. How could I possibly perform my best when I lacked sleep and I was dependent on coffee!?”

“Your brother is right.”

Hearing that alone was a nightmare.

“Although you’re talented in upkeep and information, you’re too young to fight against an ex-assassin.”

You helplessly scramble off the bed. “Daddy, you’re being unfair.”

Daddy. It’s like you were a ten-year-old fighting for his attention once again. You looked at Antonne, and then your father, shifting in complacency. “I worked for three years, ceaselessly. Even if it meant giving up my weekends and studying so hard that it made my nose bleed. I got the job done, even if no one paid me or thanked me, I still did everything.”

“We’ve lost a lot of resources,” Harry begins. “And we’ve been brought back to square one because of the fire.”

Before Harry could even finish off his explanation, you lift a finger and point at him accusingly. “This is because one of your people decided to leak information—“ In between your rant, Antonne attempts to soothe you. “Had it not been for the fact that you decided to let untrusted people into the faction, we wouldn— stop it, Antonne— we wouldn’t be dealing with this sort of thing. Mother warned you about it, and you brushed off her every warning— STOP IT, ANTONNE!” You finally yelled out. Your brother ceases, lifting his hands off of you after he sees that you’re shaking.

What’s wrong with me?

Why am I being more emotional than usual?

The way the rage consumed you left you in dismay. At a short moment of epiphany, you run your hands across your face and, like a switch, all of your emotions reboot.

“I apologize. I spoke out of line.”

That line alone was chilling.

“I’m sorry, [Y/n].” The tender way Harry called out your name was unfathomable. “I know it’s upsetting that your job is being taken away from you, and you have every right to get upset. However, for your sake and your health, you can pass on these responsibilities to Montrell for now.”

“Montrell’s in London.” You add. “He can’t possibly take over—“

“He’s not in London.” Antonne confesses. You furrowed your brows, shaking your head. “What are you talking about?”

“… It was going to be a surprise but..”

Oh no.

“Oh,” You blankly state, your mind rioting. “I see.”

“It’s an unplanned decision, really,” Your father explains. “Montrell also has no idea that you’ve taken Antonne’s place in taking care of the hotel for the last three years. It’d be better for you, as well, to take a break.”

You wanted to scream, break down, curse at everyone.

“I’m sorry for being too harsh on you, [Y/n].” Harry eases, placing a hand over your shoulder. “However, you have to understand that it’s also for the best.”

“I understand.” Fuck you, and fuck all of you.

“We’ll leave you to rest for now.” Yeah, leave me the fuck alone before I melt the fuck down.

As they step out, all the tension in the room leave along with the squeak of their fine, leather dress shoes. You’re left with the silent physician, whose presence you’d completely forgotten despite the wildness of her dark curls. She shifts uncomfortably, parting her lips to speak, only to find that she didn’t know what to say.

“What is it?” You ask, lowering your voice so as to not intimidate. Prompting to break the silence in her place.

The woman blinks at you, somewhat relieved by your words.

“Can I be direct, Miss?” She sternly asks.

“It’ll be better off that way, frankly.”

She leans a little closer, tugging on the sleeve of your arm. “When you first got here, your body was riddled with cuts, bruises, and broken bones around— oh, can I touch you?”

You squirm. “I’m not a relic.”

“Sorry ‘bout that. Most of the rich people I’ve worked with were usually snobby douches who think their skin shed gold.” She subtly laughs, raising the fabric up higher. “Initially, I believed you were exactly that kind of rich kid, but after seeing what happened, you don’t seem like anything they say.”

You raise a brow. “.. Have we met each other before?”

She looked at you as though you’d just insulted her, her eyes about to pop off her thick-rimmed glasses.

“.. I work at Alchemax. I’m the head of the research team in the particle accelerator project— we’ve spoken many, many times before.”

“.. You’re not my physician?”

Her lips tighten into a line. “I take what I said back. You’re exactly like all those other rich kids.”

“W-well, I’m sorry.” You grumbled. “I work with a hundred different people almost every single day, my mind usually shuts down when I’m at work.”

“Well, your father did just drag me out of the line and forced me to fix you up since they didn’t want to risk calling for a doctor who doesn’t know that you’re parading as your brother.” She spoke so quickly, it made you rethink what she just said three times. “Anyways— I needed to tell you that under my observations, you’ve healed yourself in a supernaturally fast rate that it’s groundbreaking.”

“What?”

“Six hours ago, you had broken bones in here,” She points her fingers at your shoulder. “Here,” Followed by your thigh. “And here.” Then your calf. “But after seeing your little drama session with your father, you were able to move yourself without any sort of pain. Initially, I concluded that you must’ve had some very high pain tolerance, but I noticed that so many of your cuts and bruises have all been healed, and that,” Her fingers trace a line over your neck. “That was red as hell just moments ago. Now, it’s gone.”

Oh, the mark you got from Prowler Jr after he choked the hell out of you.

You liked calling him that. Prowler Jr— a smaller, rustier protégée of the Prowler you grew up with.

“.. I wonder why so.”

There was a wily grin on her face that unsettled you tremendously.

“Well, without your father looking, I ran a test on you.”

“You what?”

Without even a single second to lose, the woman takes out few samples from her bag, laying them all out before you with a couple of handwritten documents.

“Here.” She states so proudly.

You marveled at all that she’s written— unfortunately for you, her handwriting was so messily done that you couldn’t understand a single damn thing.

“… You could get sued for this, you know that?”

“Your father wouldn’t. Unlike his children, he can’t find a replacement for me.”

Your mouth hung in disbelief at what you just heard. Rather than acknowledging the insult, however, she plucks out a print of what you assumed were tiny splotches of black tar on a petri dish.

“What the hell is that?”

“I got that swabbed out of your mouth.”

“Oh fuck, I thought I’d dieted enough for the performance!”

“It’s not sweets, sweetheart.” She answered defeatedly, clearly full of your unsure-weaponized-incompetence. “It’s a mysterious symbiote that we’ve recently caught hold of four months ago, and during your fight with the Prowler, it forged itself into your system.” Her fingers trace down your arm, grasping the center of your wrist while grinning. “And it can make you do this.”

As she squeezes your hand, a black matter ejects from your palm. You jolt away, slapping her hand off as you curse.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!?”

“The symbiote.” She casually replies. “Isn’t it amazing?”

It retreats like a slimey being, pushing itself back into your skin as though it’d all been a mere hallucination.

“You mean to tell me there’s some alien slime living inside my body!?”

“Well, yes—“

“GET IT OUT OF ME!”

She winces at the loudness of your voice, moving back an inch away. “That’ll take a while for me to dissect. You have to come to my lab tomorrow if you want me to find a way to pull that away from you.”

“I can’t go tomorrow.” You had a date with Miles, and that alone was reasonable enough to miss anything and everything else. “I-I have practice for the fundraiser on Sunday, and I’m still the hostess, so I have to make sure that the preparations are seamless.”

“… I have a comment, but I’m not sure if you’ll like it since you probably hear it all the time.”

“What? That I’m just like my mother?”

She scrunches her nose. “I was going to say that you’re too young to be acting so old.” The woman turns away, beginning to pack up her things again. “You’re sixteen. You should be going out to parties, creating fake IDs, sneaking out to make out with your boyfriend— whatever other shit girls your age like to do.”

You try your hardest not to react at the last mention, since that was definitely what you just did a few hours before. You begin to rub your hands, the friction warming you up as your shoulders shrug.

“Well, as much as I want to do all that, I’ve got too much to do.”

“You won’t be sixteen forever, Miss.” She tosses the bag over her shoulder. “Take that from me. I’m forty-six, and I’ve went through a lot. I’d give everything to be your age again.”

As you watch her head for the door, you call out to her one last time.

“.. Call me [Y/n]. I don’t like it when people way older than me call me ‘miss’.”

She raised her brows. “Alright then, [Y/n].” Your name rolls off her tongue gently.

“How about you? What do I call you?”

With a hand over the knob, the woman beamed.

“.. I’m Olivia Octavius, but you can call me Liv.”

#miles morales #astv x you #42 miles morales #42 miles morales x reader #astv x reader #astv miles #astv #astv x y/n #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #earth 42 miles morales x female reader #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 prowler #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles morales x you #earth 42 miles x reader #miles 42 #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales 1610 #prowler miles x reader #prowler miles #miles morales prowler #prowler x reader #atsv prowler #astv fanfic #spiderman astv

[sunflowervoltwentyeight]

Hello! This is a fic rec of my all-time favorite fics. These fics have really stuck with me over the years, and I've read many of them multiple times. This is an ongoing fic rec, that I will continue to update. These fics are organized by word count from longest to shortest. You can view my other fic recs here. Enjoy!

Of Mates and Men by bananaheathen / @bananaheathen (630k)

In which, Louis and Harry meet as best men for their best friends' wedding... well... sort of.

Or, the one where Harry's just moved back from New York and Louis doesn't believe in romance.

Or, I guess... the one where Zayn and Liam are getting married.

Hiding Place by orphan_account (365k)

Louis never wanted a soulmate, didn’t really care for the whole Bonding thing at all, really. Enter Harry Styles, who’s wanted to be Bonded for as long as he could remember. With one fateful meeting in an X Factor bathroom, Louis gets a dagger on his arm and the realization that just because Harry is his soulmate doesn’t mean it’s mutual.

From the X Factor house to Madison Square Garden, from the Fountain Studios stage to stadiums across the world, Louis has to learn to love without losing himself completely, because someday his best friend will Bond to someone and replace Louis as the center of his universe. Meanwhile, Harry begins to think that maybe fate doesn’t actually know what it’s doing after all, because his other half has clearly been right in front of him the whole time. All he has to do now is convince Louis to give them a chance.

Or, the canon compliant Harry and Louis love story from the very beginning, where the only difference is that the love between them is literally written on their skin, and there’s only so much they can hide.

You Can Hear It In The Silence by imogenelee / @imogenleefic (234k)

When Harry Styles was accepted into a post-grad degree, he knew he could no longer afford his flat, leaving him with three options: 1) Move back into student halls. 2) Become homeless. 3) Move in with his best (and only) friend, Niall, and three of Niall's other mates. He went with the third option. But it was a close race. Shame one of his roommates reminded him why he only has one friend. If there is one thing Louis Tomlinson can't stand, it's pretentious tossers, having grown up around enough of them. If there is one thing he can't live without, it would be his friends. So he was proper thrilled to move in with his best mates and a couple of other lads. That was until he discovered one of them was the archetype for a pretentious tosser.

In the interest of seeing out the twelve-month lease without killing each other, they both try (debatable) to get along despite believing they are opposite in almost every conceivable way, each having the communication skills of a cucumber, and secrets that have no business be kept secret.

One More Time Again by orphan_account (232k)

Harry looks down to where Louis is cradling his hand between his own. Louis' hands are slender, the bones delicate, the nails bitten short. The 2-8 on the backs of his fingers is gone, but the faded scar from a skateboarding mishap in Year 7 is still there.

Harry's hand is awkward, knobby-boned and naked, no rings, no tattoos. It's too big for his wrist and his wrist too big for his arm. Yet it still somehow fits in Louis' in the painfully perfect way it always did.

He blinks back the sting in his eyes.

On the morning of his second sold-out performance at Madison Square Garden, Harry wakes up to find that he's sixteen years old, on The X Factor, and that he has a chance to make things right.

A canon-compliant fix-it fic (sort of).

Stranger Stars by shaylea (212k)

Five years ago, Africa offered a grieving Louis Tomlinson an escape from an England he couldn't tolerate. Now it's become home as he leads overland tours across the continent with his best friend and driver Zayn Malik. What's meant to be just another ordinary six-week trip from Cape Town to Nairobi turns into anything but, when future lawyer/current photographer and songwriter Harry Styles and his friends join Louis' latest set of passengers.

Given A Chance by fabby / @fabby1d (173k)

Five years after One Direction took their last tour, the last thing Louis Tomlinson ever expected to happen while on a tea run at the local Piggly Wiggly was to run into his ex-boyfriend and ex-bandmate Harry Styles.

The odds of them ever running into each other again had to be super slim, right?

Wrong.

What happens when you mix ex-boyfriends with a large serving of Small Town America? Will Louis and Harry be able to set aside their differences, or will Louis be able to stay breezy as fuck in the wake of Harry’s arrival?

(or, the one where Louis and Harry run into each other five years after One Direction ends and learn how to love each other again. Featuring: Reggie as the overweight labrador, Niall as Louis’ last grip on reality, and Nowheresville, North Carolina as the setting for Louis’ worst nightmare to come true.)

The Wonderlands by stylinsoncity /  @aliensingucci (150k)

"Somewhere between chaos and control — these are the wonderlands."

Harry's daughter, Andy, is signed to Louis' girl band. Her path to success is marked by competition, chaos, and for Harry, a love affair.

As You Are by Zarah5 (139k)

AU. Five years after The X Factor launched his career as a radio host and songwriter, Louis Tomlinson returns as a judge. Falling for a contestant is the last thing he needs. It's also against his contract.

The only reason Harry auditions for The X Factor is because his best mate signed the two of them up as some kind of joke. Harry doesn't get the big deal—not until he's faced with this season's judges and realises that one of them used to be his desperate, impossible teenage crush.

Unbelievers by isthatyoularry / @isthatyoularry (136k)

It’s Louis’ senior year, and he’s dead set on doing it right. However, along with his pair of cleats, a healthy dose of sarcasm and his ridiculous best friend, he’s also got a complicated family, a terrifyingly uncertain future, and a mortal enemy making his life just that much worse. Mortal enemies “with benefits” was not exactly the plan.

Or: The one where Louis and Harry definitely aren’t friends, and football is everything.

Empty Skies  by green_feelings / @greenfeelings (134k)

For three years, Harry has been running from his past. Now, he is moving to London and pledges to fulfil his only dream – making it big in the music industry. Not everyone has a place, though, and the competition is tough. As is his past catching up on him.Louis is part of the biggest boy band of the world, and getting there had meant a lot of hard work, as well as sacrificing parts of his heart and soul. He’s still happy. Maybe not as happy as he could be, but who is he to complain?

Let's Fall in Love in a Place You Want to Stay by embro (134k)

A George of the Jungle / Tarzan AU where Louis is a model who meets Wild Man Harry in the Congo. He was raised by apes and barely speaks a word of English and turns Louis' life upside down.

Love Is A Rebellious Bird by 100percentsassy, Gloria_Andrews / @gloriaandrews (134k)

AU in which the boys still make music. Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who "has made Mozart cool again" according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best. Zayn and Liam are around too.

Don't hum Bolero.

Wild Love bypurpledaisy / @harrydaisy (130k)

“Good,” Julia says, clearly pleased to have them both uncomfortable and unable to look at each other. “Now, I only have one more question before you can go. What are you planning to do when this experiment ruins your friendship?”

“We said we’d stay friends no matter what,” Harry says smoothly, his chin lifting in defense.

“That was our one thing going into it,” Louis agrees. “Stay friends no matter what.”

Julia raises a perfectly manicured brow, “That’s all fine and good. But I hope you realize your emotions aren’t going to realize this is an experiment in the end. If one of you falls for the other and finds out those feelings are not reciprocated, you’re not going to be able to laugh it off as a social experiment. I’m not saying you shouldn’t do this, I’m just hoping you’ve considered all of the possible outcomes.”

- AU: Two best friends try to date each other for forty days. It’s supposed to be fun until emotions make it complicated.

After All These Years byLifeInAColorWheel (127k)

It’s been seven years since One Direction went on hiatus and it’s been eight years since Louis and Harry broke up. They’ve been strangers to one another since then.

But, over the course of a weeklong boys’ trip, history between Harry and Louis resurfaces.

Or,

The one when Louis and Harry don’t talk, connect again years later, and reflect on why their love collapsed.

Wild and Unruly by 100percentsassy, Gloria_Andrews / @gloriaandrews (123k)

Harry is a cowboy sitting on the biggest oil reservoir in Wyoming, and Louis is the paralegal assigned to pressure him into selling his land.

I'll Fly Away by juliusschmidt / @juliusschmidt (122k)

Harry and Louis grew up together in Lake County, Harry with his mom and stepdad in a tiny cottage on Edward’s Lake and Louis in his family’s farmhouse a few minutes down the road. But after high school, Louis stuck around and Harry did not; Harry went to Chicago where he found a boyfriend and couple of college degrees. Six years later, Harry ends up back in Edwardsville for the summer and he and Louis fall into old patterns and discover new ones.

ft. One Direction, the local boyband; Horan’s Bar and Grill; families, most especially children and babies; Officer Liam Payne; many local festivals and fireworks displays; and Anne Cox, PFLAG President.

Bitter Tangerine by purpledaisy / @daisyharry (119k)

Maybe it’s Niall, he reasons to calm his storming heart. Maybe he’s not actually gone for the holidays yet, maybe Harry got the dates confused. Slowly, he holds his breath and pushes the kitchen door open. The first thing he sees make him jump, a wooden spoon held out like a sword. Once his brain processes the sight in front of him, it’s less the sword that gets him than who is attached to the wooden spoon.

“Harry,” the swordsmen speaks before Harry can, his voice low and steady though confusion laces each word.

Harry’s breath catches. Every string around his heart, all the protection he spent nine months building, rips out and tears open all at once as he says, “Hi Louis.”

-

AU: Nine months after they break up, a twist of fate brings Harry and Louis back together at Christmas.

Never Be by cherrystreet / @cherrystreet (117k)

Monica: You've got to see her again.Ross: And why do you care so much?Monica: Because! You could get to live out my fantasy!Ross: You had fantasies about Emily?Monica: No! Y’know, the fantasy! Meet someone from a strange land, fall madly in love, and spend the rest of your lives together.  

The one where Harry Styles moves to Connecticut from England for nine months as a part of a study abroad program, and he just so happens to move in with Louis Tomlinson and family.

Burn to Ash by bethaboo (116k)

Harry is sitting there, so fucking casual, and Louis realizes in a split second he was not ready. When Harry walked out in Detroit and never looked back, he was a boy verging on a man, still only twenty years old, but there's a man in his place now. Hard and resolute, yes, but still, for the first time in a long time, Louis can kind of see the old Harry in him. The soft, directness of his gaze, the hesitant smile he gives to Lou, the way he wrings his ridiculously large hands in his lap.

He's a little bit the eager sixteen year old puppy dog again, his innocence and sweetness resurrected miraculously, and Louis freezes in place. He was prepared to face the asshole Harry. He was prepared to meet a whole new Harry.

Louis is not prepared to meet one of the old incarnations of Harry, and it absolutely tears him up.

Or the fic where Harry spirals out of control, the band breaks up, and then he shows back up, five years later.

Mine Would Be You by crinkle-eyed-boo / @crinkle-eyed-boo (114k)

Louis blinks his eyes open, his eyelids fluttering as the room swims around him. He takes several gulps of beer once he confirms that he’s definitely not hallucinating, that the very first portrait Harry Styles ever painted of him is hanging on that wall.

Louis stares at the wall, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as he realizes that there’s not just one painting of him, there’s five, the portraits lined up like they’re some sort of storyboard depicting the rise and fall of his deepest love. His greatest heartache. A pain that cut him so deep that he left the fucking country, severing all ties with his life in New York, now suddenly surrounding him as if he’d never left.

Fucking shit motherfucker fuck.

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn’t intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

Tired Tired Sea by mediawhore / @mediawhorefics (113k)

As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

Babydoll Blues by devilinmybrain / @thedevilinmybrain (111k)

Louis is a high profile, filthy rich label executive who has the world at his feet - a music god.. Harry is the sugar baby trying to make a name for himself singing in shady bars and hanging off the arm of Louis' biggest rival. What Louis wants, Louis gets. But what if the game gets too hot and hits a little too close to the heart?

Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose by certainsadness (103k)

“There’s something so great about watching you interact with art,” Harry said quietly. “Like, when you were giving the tour, you were just so you, and so happy and excited and funny and engrossing. But then when you’re looking at the art, when it’s, like, just for you, you get so quiet and observant.” He pressed a kiss to Louis’s shoulder. “But you still seem so you, and so happy. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you as happy as you’ve been tonight.” He kissed his shoulder again. “As you are right now.” A shiver went up Louis’s back. “I’m happy when I’m with you,” he said.

Or, Louis loved art and Harry was a masterpiece.

Emperor's New Clothes by sunsetmog / @magicalrocketships (92K)

The fact that Louis’s most precious belonging was a cat with a face like thunder and an uncanny ability to cover every single inch of Louis’s clothing with cat hair was something that Louis chose not to think about too much.

or: Harry’s a pop star and Louis isn’t, and there’s a non-disclosure agreement where there used to be a relationship.

Behavioural Ecology by turtlekz / @turtlekz (81k)

Louis Tomlinson is a primatologist working with the Jane Goodall Institute for primate conservation; and Harry Styles is the photojournalist sent from National Geographic to write a piece promoting awareness about the endangered species. They meet, and love is never, ever simple, as we know.

Featuring Eli the chimpanzee, bickering humans, storytelling, and five men who come to gain an understanding of what it means to be human; all stationed in the Republic of the Congo.

Do Not Go Gentle by afirethatcannotdie / @afirethatcannotdie (70k)

“This is all a game to you, isn’t it? Well, it’s not for me. This is a real life or death situation,” Louis says, spitting the words at him. “And I just don’t think you’re cut out for it.”

For a moment, they stare at each other in complete silence. Harry can feel his blood thrumming between his ears, can see Louis glaring at him, feels red-hot anger. And then all he feels, oppressively and desperately, is lust.

Suddenly Louis is surging up to him to press his lips against Harry’s. Harry walks the two of them backwards, pressing Louis back against the door. Louis oomphs in surprise and brings his hands under Harry’s scrub top, scratching at his lower back.

“Lock — oh — lock the… fucking door,” Louis mutters.

When Harry Styles starts his first day as a surgical intern, he expects a lot of things: to treat patients, to observe a surgery, to feel a bit overwhelmed. What he definitely doesn't expect, however, is that the handsome guy he kicked out of his bed this morning is also an intern.

A Grey’s Anatomy AU where tensions are high, Harry and Louis are hooking up in secret, and no one has time for love. Or do they?

To the Ends of the Earth by stylinsoncity / @aliensingucci (68k)

During a yearlong hiatus, Louis visits Harry at his cabin in Idaho, where long-buried feelings ignite like the fire keeping them warm.

A Yuzu Grows in Brooklyn by stylinsoncity / @aliensingucci (66k)

Harry is a recent implant in new york and a young chef opening a restaurant called yuzu. louis, a music teacher and broadway lover, has been around the block for a while. in a city that's so fast-paced, they're slow to catch on to each other.

The Dark and the Dentist by sunshiner / @theprizeofcoolness (66k)

“I know this song,” Louis whispers, and Harry has to lean his ear toward him to pick up what he’s saying. “It was written for people to dance to it. We should be dancing.” We can’t, Harry almost spits, but it’d be stupid of him. Louis knows they can’t. Even if he looks like any regular Parisian in their twenties, and Harry looks like any hipster Parisian in their twenties, they can’t anyway. To be fair, they probably wouldn’t do it even if they were out. But if they were two uni students, both in Paris for an exchange, meeting over fallen books at the library, or because of mutual friends, or watching Monet’s Water Lilies? “How would we dance?” Harry murmurs, mouth almost pressed to Louis’ cheek, so close he can feel his warmth. What a picture they must make, two millionaires freezing in a park and dreaming of a different life.

An account of the events of November 2014. Canon-compliant.

Time Passed by coffinofachimera (66k)

Louis struggles with their relationship as Harry grows into his identity.

Outwit, Outplay, Outlast by dancesongsoul, lookatyourchoices (60k)

“Tommo and Harry are gonna do it. I don’t know when, but they’re gonna do it. They’ve got the mattress, the pillows, everything’s in place, and they’re gonna do it. I really wish those two the best of luck.” –Taylor Swift, "Chapera"

Or a Survivor All-Stars AU in which Harry and Louis are just in this game to win the million dollars, but they end up with something better.

Featuring Harry's yellow swim shorts, Louis in snapbacks, and OT5 shenanigans.

No One Does It Better by nodibs (49k)

Harry’s an alcoholic and Louis is a bartender. The first time they meet isn’t the first time they’ve met.

Sail Away With Me by star_henderson / @star-henderson (47k)

“It’s inhumane putting four blokes in one cabin.” Louis stripped off and climbed up into his top bunk. “And why did we get the smelliest twat on the whole ship and bore of the century?”

Harry shrugged. “We clearly pissed someone off along the way.”

Louis snorted softly. “Who do I have to bend over for to get us an upgrade?”

Harry barked out a laugh. “If only it were that simple.” He rolled his eyes wistfully at Louis.

“The only way I’m going to get a two berth is to throw Payno overboard and be next in line for the deputy cruise director's job.” Louis leaned up on one elbow to look over at Harry. “Would you help me weigh his body down so I don’t go to jail?”

“Only If I can share your cabin.” Harry shuffled about, tucking the duvet between his legs, sweeping his hair up into a bun and securing it in a band. “I’m not being an accessory to murder and then still having to share with them two, no fucking way.”

Or

Louis and Harry are part of the entertainment team on board a luxury cruise liner. They hate sharing their four berth cabin with two other guys and would do anything to get a cabin of their own. One drunken night the solution was simple. They'd just get married...

Be My Little Good Luck Charm by 100percentsassy (34k)

In which Harry is a promising amateur golfer making his debut at the PGA Championship, and Louis is a Sky Sports anchor who would really rather be commentating on footie.

The other boys are around too: caddy!Niall provides victory pints, Liam is Louis's Very Serious co-anchor, and poor Zayn just gets his face drawn on.

Have You Coming Back Again by whoknows (31k)

It’s five o’clock in the morning. Louis has a lecture at half eight. He could be using this time to study or to do his readings or to go to the gym, but - well. He doesn’t have any exams coming up, he’s not going to his seminar today anyway and he hates the gym.

Instead he’s using this time to fuck with Harry Styles’ poor little brain.

Louis jogs across the street and jabs the key into the car door. It opens easily, not that he was expecting anything else. He copied the key for a reason, after all.

He’s got Harry’s schedule memorized, more because the guy keeps following him around than anything, so he doesn’t bother looking around before climbing behind the wheel and setting his bag on the passenger seat. It’s a Monday, which means that Harry doesn’t even get out of bed before noon unless he’s planning on harassing Louis.

Loved By Your Mother by superglass / @gaymoustache (31k)

Harry stretches out like Venus with her lover, growing sleepy in the late afternoon light with a baby growing inside her. Perhaps not literally, not physically. Not exactly.

or

Harry struggles to come to terms with wanting to have children, and what that means for their relationship. Canon compliant, set a few years into the future

#read #favorite fics #ficrec #larry fic rec #hlcreators #1dficvillage

[schizoprophet]

It is not a secret about me that one of the things I like to do is read stories in the Bible and get sad about it. That's like, that's been a pastime of mine since I was a child. Let me find the story that really makes me feel sad for the person in the story who I can't help because one, they've been dead for years if they ever existed in the first place. And two, if you're reading a story to try and help the people in the story, then you have approached the whole thing from the wrong end. Because you can't, that's the thing you cannot really do except to choose your own adventure books. And the Bible is not one of those. So one of the best stories to read if you like to read the Bible and make yourself feel sad for the people in it is the story of The Last Supper. Jesus Christ gets a bunch of his friends together, right? And then let's take the Jesus part off just as a person. You get a bunch of your friends together, right? And you have dinner, this big old dinner, you know, some bread and whatever, some wine and it's cool to be with your friends. It's fun, it's a good feeling, you know. And then you just get a vibe, there's a very, very, very specific vibe that you get. Right. And these are your friends so you can speak your mind around them. You can tell them how you feel and you say, you know, one of you is gonna sell me out. I just know it. You've - you've had some wine at this point. So you know, you can say that. Your friends will not judge you for speaking what's in your heart at this moment, and some of them are also, they've had a couple of glasses of wine themselves. They immediately go God, no, you are my friend. I would never, I would never, man. I want you to know person to person tonight. I will never sell you out. You, we've meant a lot to each other over the past couple of years and I will not sell you out man. And Jesus is like, OK, it's all good, you know, and they all do this. And one of 'em doesn't say shit. And he knows and he knows they both know and the one who's gonna do it feels worse than the one who's gonna suffer for it. Because he sort of knows I'm gonna do this thing. I guess I am. I don't want to. These are my friends, they're all gonna hate me. And in one version of the four gospels, Judas, uh, having sold Christ out, who normally then gets arrested and murdered by the state. Right? Um, in one version of the gospel Judas immediately goes and hangs himself. I've always - when I was a child I was like, oh, man. I mean, I understand that it'd probably be a tough one to live down in Jerusalem if you're the guy who killed Jesus. But, I mean, you know, that seems like kind of an extreme. This song is called cry for Judas.

-- John Darnielle about Cry for Judas, Tivoli de Helling on 2019-11-14

#tmg #tmgbanter #tmg banter #the mountain goats #cry for judas #there is not a day on this earth i don't miss @tmgbanter #chatterchirping

[pinegreenapples]

Radiostatic Fic Recs

Do you like radiostatic? Are you looking for something good to read? Here are some of my personal favorites that I think everyone should read! As a reminder, if you don't like something listed, just don't read it! And don't bother the author or me! Staying in your lane is free! 😊

Finished works

Control + V

Vox and Alastor are on the cusp of a relationship but Alastor worries that he isn't enough for Vox. Val interferes.

Get Your Thrill Just to Get At Me

Alastor experiences a rut for the first time and Vox refuses to waste good dick on a panic attack.

Hold Me Like A Grudge

This one's ABO and pretty much just smut. Suppressants fail all over the city! Guess we gotta fuck!

Put Your Fingers Back to the Keys

Alastor gets publicly summoned by Lilith and Vox searches for him.

Escape Was Just a Nod and a Casual Wave

This one's a really cool predator/prey fic where Vox chases Alastor.

Keep You Like an Oath

Alastor sneaks into V Tower and discovers Vox's video logs. It causes a revelation.

Lucidity's Fog

Vox has one final sex dream of him and Alastor together.

How to Commission a Radio Demon Body Pillow (and other assorted things)

This one is based off a tumblr ask thread about Vox having an insane amount of Alastor paraphernalia. It's funny, but it is one-sided.

Would You Download a Demon?

Alastor tells Vox and Rosie that he sold his soul. Vox does something so stupid, it's smart.

Classic and Better

Oooohhhhoooo, this bad boy is what made me start writing again. The characterization of them is so good and I love it so much. Alastor tempts Vox back into his folds and Vox follows blindly.

Once Bitten, Twice Shy

Alastor lays claim to Vox by biting him. This one is short and sweet.

Couple's Therapy

This one was funny and sadly too short. Modern day Alastor and Vox decide to go to therapy as a joke and it actually makes them realize a thing or two.

Bambi

I love this piece. It's cute! Vox and Alastor have two different versions of Bambi-their clashing interpretations lead to an adorable misunderstanding.

Joking Matters

Vox and Alastor got married to consolidate their power and have kept their relationship a secret since.

Obligations

Vox trades for Alastor's soul but it isn't at all like how he wanted. They both cope in their own ways.

Meant to Be Yours

This one's one-sided. Vox gets rejected and takes it really badly. An excellent piece exploring his side.

Bargains

This one is also so so so good. Alastor has a rut cycle and the only person who knows is Vox. However, Alastor hates that he has a rut and takes it out on Vox. Vox just wants to know what Alastor actually wants.

Spite

This one is delicious. It's based off the first episode where Alastor says he pulled a few strings to get the commercial to air. Vox demands that he act in a porno for blackmail.

Just a Slave to Your Instincts

Vox researches deer instincts and uses it very effectively against Alastor.

That One Tuesday

Similar premise to Classic and Better but it involves more of the Hazbin cast and the main plotline of trying to redeem sinners.

Vox and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Afterlife

This one is light on the relationship but funny. Basically, every rut Alastor goes fucking nuts and takes it out on Vox. However, no one believes him and they think he's going crazy.

666: Live on Air!

An excellent series that does a good job exploring the push and pull between these two and what a relationship between them would look like with all their hang ups and miscommunications.

Seeking Solace

This story plays with Dom/Sub designations and Vox is a sub who hasn't dropped in too long. He calls Alastor to help.

Radio Made the Video Star

I haven't fully read through this series but it is well written and I'm liking it so far!

Thawing Out

Vox is in an abusive relationship with Valentino. Alastor finds him one night by accident when he's mulling over his relationship. For the first time, Alastor notices that something else might be going on at Vee Tower and he has these awful feelings about it that he can't seem to shake.

The Pitch

Vox swaggers into Alastor's radio tower to propose a deal, he ends up limping out. Wink wonk!

Hypnosis, Live in your Bedroom!

This is inspired by the 666 hypnosis fic and it is quite good! It’s another smut piece of Alastor and Vox exploring his hypnosis.

Other Place

This piece is really sentimental. It made me cry and think about death. Basically, Alastor visits Vox on the anniversary of his mother's death and they talk through his many emotions.

This Wasn't on the Agenda

One-sided but funny! Vox and Alastor start a hissy fit in an overlord meeting about their brief sexual history together.

Staticradio Woodland Fun

This one's cutesy! Vox and Alastor are both mythical creatures experiencing rut and so they spend it with each other.

Feeling from Grace

Angel Dust comes to Alastor with some concerns about Vox’s wellbeing. Alastor manages to fuck it up, as he does all things regarding Vox and feelings.

Music on T.V. and Sex on the Radio!?

This one’s funny and sexy. After their little fight on air, Vox tracks Alastor down in his tower to have some good old fashioned fun.

Stay

Alastor can’t seem to let Vox go, even when Vox decides he can’t keep playing this game anymore.

Like Old Times

Alastor pays Vox a visit in his office after their musical spat to say hello.

Deer in the Backlights

This piece is nice in the way that it explores Vox finally getting closure from his obsession with Alastor. Val and Velvette set up a meeting for Vox and Alastor to finally fuck and get rid of their weird psychosexual tension. Vox wonders if this was really what he wanted all along.

198

This one is pure smut and it’s so delightful. Vox manages to mind break Alastor and turn him into his own personal sex toy. I also highly recommend anything by childishsadism, they write very compelling work!

Undisclosed Desires

Alastor and Vox get into another fight and Alastor finds he likes it a lot more than he thought he would.

To Be Yours

This is my own work! Alastor hears Vox open their personal frequency for the first time in years. Curious, he goes to find out why exactly Vox has chosen to break the silence.

Unfinished works

Addicted

Addicted is really good. Vox finds out he's been drugged by Val for decades and as a result has long term amnesia. He runs away and tries to reckon with a past he can't even remember.

Hypnotic

This one is a rape fic. Vox hypnotizes Alastor against his will and forces him to recount his first sexual encounter as he has sex with him.

Prey of the Video Star

This one is really really good! After the battle, Vox takes Alastor back to Vee tower, determined to finally make the other his. Alastor, weakened, struggles the best that he can even as the noose tightens around his neck.

Safe with Me

This one's good! It's a modern AU where Vox is a CEO and Alastor is a serial killer and podcaster. After separating as childhood friends, Vox and Alastor meet once again and find love with one another.

Equilibrium

Vox saves Alastor and accidentally creates a soulbond between them. This sets in motion a landslide of unexpected events between them.

The Answer is Yes

Okay, this one is extremely well written. It's a fascinating exploration of Vox and Alastor's relationship through a vignette style. It blends all sorts of memories with modern day and it's really cool. I like it a lot.

Bluest Monday

This one is so well written and the romance between them is absolutely heart wrenching. Alastor fears losing Vox to modernity, so he finally accepts Vox’s courting in an attempt to keep the other at his side. This decision has unintended consequences neither could foresee.

Hell’s Televisionary

This one is a really interesting take on Vox and his first few years in Hell. I’m really enjoying it! Vox is new to Hell and looking to make a name for himself. He’s also looking to reconnect with the elusive redhead that helped him when he first fell.

Rival Frequencies

Vox goes after Alastor after the extermination and patches him up. He discovers that maybe his feelings haven’t waned, and he tries to rekindle a friendship with Alastor again.

Tune On In!

This one is based off of an art post where Vox and Alastor got platonically married and details their life together.

Unraveling Emotions

Falling in love makes a sinner’s heart human again and their second death permanent. Vox has never stopped loving Alastor. Alastor makes a mistake and Vox nearly pays the price.

For my friends who liked my post, I hope this finds you!

@rae-does-stuff, @drakepad-luv-2000, @motherarts, @freakshowmemories, @bratpfanne-of-doom, @superpersonpatroleclipse , @nocakesformissedith , @coins-that-never-land , @matrixbearer2024, @dancingafterdark ,@pedi-bug , @starlightthenightwing , @unnecessarilysalty

#radiostatic #staticradio #staticlovetune

[swordfright]

Since we're talking c!Quackity...one of the interactions that fascinates me is the conversation between him, c!Wilbur, and c!Tommy when crimeboys visit Las Nevadas, because it contains this snippet of conversation:

This snippet comes in the middle of a larger conversation wherein Wilbur, more or less freshly revived, is grilling both Tommy and Q for details about how to get into the prison to see Dream. After this, the conversation moves on to navigating the visitation system. This snippet is framed within the context of Wilbur wanting to visit Dream, Tommy trying to convince him not to, and Quackity...? Well, okay, what is Quackity trying to do here? What's his goal in this conversation? He readily supplies Wilbur with info about the visitation and security systems (while Tommy actively withholds and obfuscates this info), so does that mean Q is trying to normalize his own visits by encouraging other people to visit? That's possible, but what interests me more is the question of, like, what the hell is going on here in a broader sense.

The simplest view of this conversation is that it's an argument between two people who are diametrically opposed, and Quackity is the third party here, a guy who doesn't seem particularly invested in either outcome. Which begs the question, why does he bring his own visits up at all? Q is the one who cuts in and mentions that he's been visiting Dream, which at this point isn't a secret on the server but it's also not something Q seems interested in discussing at length. The torture visits are something to be flaunted, not talked about. My assumption, given what we know about Q as a character, is that he's leveraging his experience with navigating Pandora in order to impress Wilbur. Information is something that can be negotiated, brokered, sold - so he's letting Wilbur know he has something Wilbur wants.

This is classic Q behavior right up until the end, where he gets oddly touchy about the torture being brought up. This moment has always struck me as weird, especially considering the handful of other times Quackity doesn't care whether people know (the conversation he has with George comes to mind, as well as the path he asks Foolish to build.) So there are three possibilities here:

that Q is bothered by Tommy saying the quiet part out loud;

that Q has only just found out about Wilbur's gratitude to Dream in the last 5 minutes (literally) and doesn't want to give Wilbur a reason to oppose him right now;

there's something about Tommy specifically knowing about and acknowledging the torture that rubs Q the wrong way.

Personally, I don't see option #2 as viable, given that Wilbur and Quackity are already beefing over how close to Las Nevadas Wilbur can build stuff. That's part of the reason Wilbur is here in the first place: to execute some chernobyl-grade negging. It's not world-ending beef, but given the propensity for mid-tier beef to turn into world-ending beef on this server, it's not nothing. Point is, Quackity and Wilbur have already been at odds with each other for this entire episode. Is Quackity less likely to tolerate conflict involving Dream? Absolutely, but I don't think avoiding such a conflict is his primary reason for acting the way he does here.

My current theory is that it's a combination of #1 and #3 - Quackity seemingly enjoys implying that he's been torturing Dream, but rarely talks about it outright unless it's with Sam. I can't think of many examples of him discussing the torture openly with other characters. I think it's not a stretch to say he enjoys the power of suggestion, he likes making people wonder, he likes making people scared, but he's not really prepared for someone to bring it up so boldly and directly the way Tommy does here. As for why this bothers him, my best guess is that the torture is actually kind of...difficult to talk about with people who aren't directly involved (i.e. Sam and Dream.) It's an incredibly demanding habit that takes up much of Quackity's time and energy, not to mention it's insanely intimate. Like I just don't think it's a stretch to say that Q probably just straight-up doesn't know how to talk about it in a way that's upfront, rather than gloating or flaunting or vaguely implying. Another reason it's likely difficult is that, based on the interactions we've seen, Q probably isn't used to other people bringing it up at all. Tommy's remark catches him off-guard in a very literal way.

The "Don't say that, not even as a joke," really gets me though, because it's such a defensive thing to say, coming from a guy who up until now has been very clear about how little interest he has in defending the indefensible. Is this comment a sign of remorse on Quackity's part? Fuck no, but I do think it's an admission of something. Keep in mind that Quackity's mannerisms when speaking to Tommy are almost identical to the way he speaks to c!Slime. This is evident in a number of streams from the Las Nevadas era, but especially this one: Quackity's tone of voice, language, demeanor, all of it is calculated to evoke the same kind of mentor-mentee relationship he has with Slime. And it makes sense - at this junction in the story, Q views Tommy as someone who's young and impressionable and fucks up a lot, someone who could use Q's advice, someone who's easy to manipulate.

If I were to hedge a bet, I'd say the primary reason Quackity reacts to the torture comment with defensiveness in this scene is because Tommy's remark reminds him that he needs to stay in control of the narrative. I think this is why Q brings up his visits (not the torture, but the visits) earlier in the conversation: "Tommy, you know about this, right?" He's testing Tommy to see how much he knows, and is taken aback when Tommy is prepared to bring up the nasty stuff. Q can walk around with Dream's blood on his shirt all he likes, but once the story's out, it's out - Quackity will no longer have control over who knows and, more importantly, what they think. If anything, this moment is a fleeting but noticeable admission of Quackity's insecurities surrounding the torture in specific. If he's going to properly manage his alliances, he would do well to maintain control of info surrounding, uh, how he spends his time.

#c!quackity #dream smp #dsmp meta #c!tommy #long post

[persephonememes]

* (  GUTS BY OLIVIA RODRIGO /  SENTENCE PROMPTS.

These may have been edited for clarity or length or to better apply for roleplaying.

❛ i pay attention to things that most people ignore ❜

❛ i'm alright with the movies that make jokes about senseless cruelty ❜

❛ i feel for your every little issue ❜

❛ i know just what you mean ❜

❛ i make light of the darkness ❜

❛ i've got sun in my motherfuckin' pocket ❜

❛ you know me ❜

❛ i forgive and i forget ❜

❛ i know my age and i act like it ❜

❛ i've got what you can't resist ❜

❛ i got class and integrity just like a goddamn kennedy ❜

❛ i'm a perfect all-american bitch ❜

❛ i know my place ❜

❛ i don't get angry when i'm pissed ❜

❛ i'm the eternal optimist ❜

❛ i scream inside to deal with it ❜

❛ i'm grateful all the time ❜

❛ i'm sexy and i'm kind ❜

❛ i'm pretty when i cry ❜

❛ haven't heard from you in a couple of months ❜

❛ i'm out right now and i'm all fucked up ❜

❛ i'm sensing some undertone ❜

❛ i'm right here with all my friends ❜

❛ i know we're done ❜

❛ i know we're through ❜

❛ my brain goes 'ah' can't hear my thoughts ❜

❛ i cannot hear my thoughts ❜

❛ i should probably not ❜

❛ seeing you tonight, it's a bad idea, right? ❜

❛ it's a bad idea, right? ❜

❛ fuck it, it's fine ❜

❛ yes, i know that he's my ex. but can't two people reconnect? ❜

❛ i only see him as a friend, the biggest lie i ever said ❜

❛ i just tripped and fell into his bed ❜

❛ now i'm gettin' in the car, wreckin' all my plans ❜

❛ i know i should stop, but i can't ❜

❛ i told my friends i was asleep but i never said where or in whose sheets ❜

❛ i'm sure i've seen much hotter men but i really can't remember when ❜

❛ how's the castle built off people you pretend to care about ❜

❛ i see the parties and the diamonds sometimes when i close my eyes ❜

❛ i loved you truly ❜

❛ you gotta laugh at the stupidity ❜

❛ i've made some real big mistakes but you make the worst one look fine ❜

❛ i've made some real big mistakes ❜

❛ i should've known it was strange you only come out at night ❜

❛ i used to think i was smart but you made me look so naïve ❜

❛ the way you sold me for parts as you sunk your teeth into me ❜

❛ bleeding me dry like a goddamn vampire ❜

❛ every girl i ever talked to told me you were bad news ❜

❛ you're so convincing ❜

❛ how do you lie without flinching? ❜

❛ how do you lie? ❜

❛ what a mesmerizing, paralyzing, fucked up little thrill ❜

❛ i can't figure out just how you do it and god knows i never will ❜

❛ you went for me and not her 'cause girls your age know better ❜

❛ you said it was true love but wouldn't that be hard? ❜

❛ you can't love anyone 'cause that would mean you had a heart ❜

❛ i tried to help you out ❜

❛ i tried to help you out now i know that i can't ❜

❛ how you think's the kind of thing i'll never understand ❜

❛ aren't you the sweetest thing on this side of hell? ❜

❛ did i ever tell you that i'm not doing well? ❜

❛ i linger all the time ❜

❛ i linger all the time watching, hidden in plain sight ❜

❛ i try but it takes over my life ❜

❛ i see you everywhere ❜

❛ the sweetest torture one could bear ❜

❛ i'm losing it lately ❜

❛ i feel your compliments like bullets on skin ❜

❛ aren't you the greatest thing to ever exist? ❜

❛ my stomach's all in knots ❜

❛ you got the one thing that i want ❜

❛ people are people, but it's like you're made of angel dust ❜

❛ it's like you're out to get me ❜

❛ you poison every little thing that i do ❜

❛ i just loathe you lately ❜

❛ i despise my jealous eyes and how hard they fell for you ❜

❛ i despise my rotten mind and how much it worships you ❜

❛ i don't think i get along with anyone ❜

❛ i'm on the outside of the greatest inside joke ❜

❛ i hate all my clothes ❜

❛ it feels like my skin doesn't fit right over my bones ❜

❛ so i guess i should go ❜

❛ the party's done, and i'm no fun ❜

❛ i broke a glass, i tripped and fell ❜

❛ i tripped and fell ❜

❛ i told secrets i shouldn't tell ❜

❛ i stumbled over all my words ❜

❛ i made it weird ❜

❛ i made it worse ❜

❛ each time i step outside it's social suicide ❜

❛ i wanna curl up and die ❜

❛ i laughed at the wrong time ❜

❛ i talked to this hot guy, swore i was his type ❜

❛ everything i do is tragic ❜

❛ the morning after i panic ❜

❛ oh god, what did i say? ❜

❛ when i'm alone, i'm fine ❜

❛ don't let me out at night ❜

❛ i'm shocked i'm still alive ❜

❛ i called you the wrong name twice ❜

❛ i want it, so i got it ❜

❛ another thing i ruined, i used to do for fun ❜

❛ another conversation with nothing good to say ❜

❛ another day pretending i'm older than i am ❜

❛ another perfect moment that doesn't feel like mine ❜

❛ sometimes i feel like i don't wanna be where i am ❜

❛ i push away all the people who know me the best ❜

❛ it's me who's been makin' the bed ❜

❛ i'm so tired of being the girl that i am ❜

❛ every good thing has turned into somethin' i dread ❜

❛ i'm playin' the victim so well in my head ❜

❛ every night, i wake up from this one recurring dream ❜

❛ i read somewhere it's 'cause my life feels so out of control ❜

❛ i tell someone i love them just as a distraction ❜

❛ they tell me that they love me like i'm some tourist attraction ❜

❛ i got the things i wanted, it's just not what i imagined ❜

❛ i'm counting all of the beautiful things i regret ❜

❛ i'm pulling the sheets over my head ❜

❛ you're so good at what you do ❜

❛ you come for me like a savior ❜

❛ i'd put myself through hell for you ❜

❛ i fell for you like water ❜

❛ i couldn't get out if i tried ❜

❛ it was all in my mind ❜

❛ now you got me thinking ❜

❛ love is never logical ❜

❛ all the things you did to me ❜

❛ you lied ❜

❛ i'm sure that girl is really your friend ❜

❛ you said i was too soft ❜

❛ why do I do this? ❜

❛ i know i'm half responsible and that makes me feel horrible ❜

❛ i know i could've stopped it all, god, why didn't i stop it all? ❜

❛ i met a guy in the summer and i left him in the spring ❜

❛ i wanna make him feel bad ❜

❛ i wanna make him really jealous ❜

❛ i really miss him and it makes me real sad ❜

❛ i want sweet revenge ❜

❛ i want him again ❜

❛ i want to get him back ❜

❛ i write him all these letters, then i throw them in the trash ❜

❛ i miss the way he kisses and the way he made me laugh ❜

❛ he said i was the only girl, but that just wasn't the truth ❜

❛ i am my father's daughter, so maybe i could fix him ❜

❛ i wanna key his car ❜

❛ i wanna break his heart ❜

❛ he's not even gonna know what hit him ❜

❛ he's gonna love me and hate me at the same time ❜

❛ i don't know ❜

❛ i told my friends you were the one ❜

❛ i stayed in bed for like a week ❜

❛ when you said space was what you need, i waited by my phone like a goddamn fool ❜

❛ love's fucking embarrassing ❜

❛ how could i be so stupid? ❜

❛ you found a new version of me ❜

❛ what was i even doing? ❜

❛ i give up ❜

❛ i give up everything ❜

❛ i keep coming back for more ❜

❛ i have nightmares each week about that friday ❜

❛ one phone call from you and my entire world was changed ❜

❛ you took everything i loved and crushed it in between your fingers ❜

❛ i doubt you ever think about the damage that you did ❜

❛ i hold on to every detail like my life depends on it ❜

❛ i hear your voice every time that i think i'm not enough ❜

❛ i try to be tough, but i wanna scream ❜

❛ how could anybody do the things you did so easily? ❜

❛ i say i don't care, i say that i'm fine but you know i can't let it go ❜

❛ i've tried for so long ❜

❛ it takes strength to forgive, but i don't feel strong ❜

❛ i try to understand why you would do this all to me ❜

❛ i know in my heart hurt people hurt people ❜

❛ do you think i deserved it all? ❜

❛ you built me up to watch me fall ❜

❛ you have everything and you still want more ❜

❛ even after all this, you're still everything to me ❜

❛ i know you don't care ❜

❛ there's always something missing ❜

❛ when pretty isn't pretty enough what do you do? ❜

❛ i could change up my body and change up my face ❜

❛ i'd always feel the same ❜

❛ you can win the battle but you'll never win the war ❜

❛ fix the things you hated and you'd still feel so insecure ❜

❛ i try to ignore it, but it's everything i see ❜

❛ i don't know why i even try ❜

❛ i bought all the clothes that they told me to buy ❜

❛ i chased some dumb ideal my whole fucking life ❜

❛ none of it matters and none of it ends ❜

❛ you just feel like shit over and over again ❜

❛ when am i gonna stop being wise beyond my years and just start being wise? ❜

❛ when am i gonna stop being a pretty young thing to guys? ❜

❛ when will it stop being cool to be quietly misunderstood? ❜

❛ i'm sorry that i couldn't always be your teenage dream ❜

❛ when does wide-eyed affection and all good intentions start to not be enough? ❜

❛ will i spend all the rest of my years wishing i could go back? ❜

❛ they all say that it gets better ❜

❛ it gets better the more you grow ❜

❛ it gets better, but what if i don't? ❜

#rp meme #rp memes #rp prompts #ask meme #meme #memes #roleplay meme #ask memes #lyric meme #lyrics #guts #guts olivia rodrigo #olivia rodrigo

[sl-newsie]

The Secret Ingredient (Willy Wonka (2023) x Fickelgruber Daughter) Chapter 1: Mystery Man

Today is different. I don’t know why, but ever since I woke up there’s been something different. I don’t know what’s in store for today but there’s no doubt that something’s coming.

“Dear, I need you to run down and fetch me the paper.” Father calls lazily from his lounge chair.

I feel my heart leap. “Really? I can go downstairs?”

“Be quick! Don’t make a scene!” Father barks as he sips his morning cocoa.

Before he can reconsider I rush to the staircase and am about to slide down the railing-!

“And act ladylike!” Father calls from behind me.

I stop in my tracks and remember who I am. “Fine,” I grumble under my breath. My life’s been dull as dishwater until now anyway. Why change?

My name is Charlotte Fickelgruber, daughter of one of the most powerful chocolatiers in the world. But do not let that fool you. Just because my father’s a chocolatier doesn’t mean life is fun. 

After taking forever to walk slowly and ‘ladylike’ down the stairs I fight my giddiness and strut towards the door. Father hardly ever lets me go downstairs, let alone leave the building. The usual display of chocolates is still plain and dull since father saves the best chocolate only for ‘upscale business,’ which basically means upperclassmen and bribery. The shop opens at 10am as usual and also as usual there are few customers here due to the usual chocolate. Today there’s a fair amount of foot traffic buzzing around outside in the Galeries Gourmet and it’s all I can do not to venture out and see what new chocolates are being sold.

“Morning, charcoal,” two voices taunt in unison.

I groan and turn to face two girls in matching mint mint green dresses. “Morning Cindy, morning Mindy. For the last time, my name is Charlotte. Not charcoal, not Charlie, Charlotte. If you both want to keep your silly job of greeting customers with fake smiles I suggest you treat the heiress to Fickelgruber chocolate with respect.”

They both snicker and walk off to the back of the store, more than likely to check their makeup for the tenth time. Such rudeness.

“Here you are, miss!” The paperboy sprints up and waves our daily paper up for me to grab. 

“Thank you, Timothy!” I hand him the change (with a special tip, of course). “How’s the world out there?”

He shrugs and shuffles his feet. “It’s alright, I guess. Starting to get cold!” He grips his bag and rushes off.

“B- Bye!” I wave as he disappears into the crowd. “See you… later?”

And so goes another failed attempt to make friends.

“Everything alright, Miss Fickelgruber?” Our maid Lottie asks from behind.

I give a heavy sigh. “Charlotte please, Lottie. You know how much I hate being a Fickelgruber. It’s torture to spell and even worse to hear. It’s just…” I glance up again to look out at the passerbys. “I’m so tired of being alone. Dad’s too embarrassed to have me be too social. He can’t expect me to stay tucked away upstairs forever!”

Lottie shakes her head and puts a hand on my shoulder. “It’s not my place, miss. But if it gives any comfort-” She takes a quick look to make sure we’re alone and whispers: “I could try to sneak you out one day.”

My pulse skips and I hold up my hands to keep her from saying more. “No. No! I can’t let you do that! You’ll get fired. Last time I tried to sneak out dad nearly flipped out! He hates it when I’m even on the same ground as the ‘poor’ people, let alone trying to associate with them!”

Lottie nods in silent agreement and goes about with her load of laundry, leaving me to keep looking outside. All those people, all the sights and smells I’m missing out on…

“Ladies and gentlemen!” 

A cheerful voice across the room catches my attention. It’s surprisingly animated for the Galeries Gourmet. I take a deep breath and, in a hasty moment of courage, walk out the door to search for the voice’s origin. I see people gathering towards the front near the empty lot. What on Earth-?

That’s when I spot him. At first all I can see is a brown top hat. Once I get closer a better view presents a lanky, boyish man wearing a tattered magenta overcoat, olive-colored waistcoat, brown scarf, tan trousers, and worn brown boots. I can’t quite make out his face…

“Step right up! I’ve got just the chocolate for you!” 

He’s standing on a simple crate with nothing more than a jar of strange-looking chocolate. The crowd drowns him out and I can’t squeeze past-!

“Well, there's chocolate.

And there's chocolate.

But only Wonka's makes your eyes pop out their sockelets.”

Singing? What an unusual way of advertisement. And what’s- Oh my! The chocolate is flying! Literally flying over my head!

“Put your hand into your pockelet,

Get yourself some Wonka chocolate!

Come now, I insist!

You've never had chocolate like this!

No, you've never had chocolate like this!”

Through the gathered crowd I see people pluck the chocolates from the sky and- fly? They’re flying! Light as a feather!  

“Oh my goodness!” My jaw drops. “How’s that even possible…?”

“Charlotte!”

I spin around at the sound of my name. By now the commotion has caught much attention, including my father’s. 

“Go inside now! What have I told you about walking about with-?”

“With our customers?” I ask. “Father, I wanted to see-”

“Go, now!” He barks and points to the store as he goes to follow the other chocolatiers. “I must go see what all this racket is about.”

And there they go. The big three: Fickelgruber, Prodnose, and Slugworth. I’m the only heiress of any of them but as of now there’s been no talk of me getting to help out with the family business. Father always waves it off and keeps saying ‘when you’re older,’ so I’ve got no clue what to expect. 

I sigh in defeat and walk away from the excitement. Just when I thought this day was different. Back inside, I mope over to the window to see-

“Jeez louise!” My mouth drops open.

There, just above me, is my father. Flying! Just like the others! I pinch myself and shake my head to see if I’m awake and still see him levitating up to the ceiling! 

“Lottie are you seeing this? It’s amazing!” I look down and relocate the man in the top hat, and I’m overcome with a sudden urge to meet him. He doesn’t look like a high-class highbrow. How is he making everyone so happy?

I forget all about being ladylike and slide down the railing, rushing to find the mystery candy man before he disappears.

“Out of the way! Coming through!” The chief of police barges through and the cops spread out.

“But he didn’t do anything wrong!” I complain.

“He’s disrupting business,” Officer Affable informs me.

“It’s the hoverchoc,” the man in the top hat explains.

Hoverchoc? I’ve never heard of-

Just then, father storms up and ushers the officer to go after the man. “Come, Charlotte.”

“B- But I wanted to-”

“Such nonsense!” Father ignores my pleas and starts mumbling to himself.

“Father…who was that? Did you just fly? I could barely see from the window-!”

“He is no one,” father states clearly. “He is a fool to think that he can even try to compete with us! I do not want you going anywhere near that boy, Charlotte. He’s bad news.”

We get back to the store, but before I’m dragged back inside I sneak one last look at the mysterious stranger. Who is he? Will he be able to survive dad’s competition?

#wonka 2023 #willy wonka #willy wonka x reader #wonka movie #wonka x reader #arthur slugworth #felix fickelgruber #gerald prodnose #timothee chalamet #calah lane

[saintmagx]

✨ Cruel Summer ✨

Part 2

pairing: Solo Sikoa x reader, Jey Uso × reader (briefly)

AN: If you’d like tagged, let me know 💖

⚠️ Warnings: 18+ , swearing, violence (this is the WWE after all) slight smut, infidelity (if you squint), jealous Jey, toxic behaviour, bad/embarrassing writing ⚠️

doesn't follow a specific timeline however it is more recent, total divas making a return.

✨ Said I’m fine but it wasn’t true, I don’t want to keep secrets just to keep you ✨

The match was going off without a hitch, I had Charlotte in a headlock ready to execute my finisher when I’m taken down from behind by Rhea, the plan was for her to beat me down then escape through the crowd laughing and holding her title up high, I sold the beat down like a pro and the heat she was getting was phenomenal. Corey Graves and Michael Cole were doing their part on commentary making this look like a sickening attack, though as per his character Corey was doing his best to be a little shit that he is and side with the heel superstar. Smackdown ended with me out cold in the middle of the ring. What a way to kick off this rivalry.

Backstage, Gorilla

Back in the gorilla I’m met with hunter.

“Amazing job out there yn!”

“I’m afraid that was all Demi, I just followed her lead.”

A thick Aussie accent fills the gorilla.

“Nah, don’t sell yourself short yn, I wouldn’t have been able to look half as good if your selling of the beat down wasn’t as great.”

I’ve finally come face to face with demi, her aura radiates confidence and raw sex appeal.

“Okay ladies, you both did good.” Hunter states “but now, we have to incorporate the Uso’s into this, so next week on Smackdown the Judgement Day will meet the Uso’s.”

There is a real buzz backstage about this upcoming Smackdown. I just hope it’s something that the fans can really sink their teeth into.

Yn interview (TD segment)

“I always try and look at social media after a match, everyone things I’m crazy but honestly I need to know how it’s coming across to the fans.”

“If something isn’t working or isn’t believable you best believe the WWE universe will make their opinions known.”

Yn picks up her phone and goes into twitter.

“See, look at these comments.”

Mami vs yn????? TAKE MY MONEY NOW #smackdown #wwe

Mami stepping all over yn, me next jkjkjk unless👀 @RheaRipley_WWE #smackdown

Rhea why????? What did yn do to you :( #wwesmackdown

My two favourite woman beefing 😭 this will go down as the greatest rivalry ever!!!!!!!!!! #wwe #smackdown

“Okay, yeah some are a bit more extreme than others, but it shows that what we are doing, the story we are trying to tell is getting over with the fans. I just hope the Uso’s and Judgement Day can pull it out the bag too.”

The next day after I’m on television, I always wake up to messages from family and friends congratulating, consoling or just trying to get details out of me about what’s happening next, but my lips are sealed.

If I don’t see Jon, Trin or Josh before leaving the arena I always have multiple messages from them too, and today was no different.

J 💖

Get yo ass ready, we going for breakfast

Or we could stay in and I’ll have breakfast 👀

Did you get message?

You better be getting ready!!!!

I’m leaving now

Yn?

*10 missed calls J 💖*

Shit.

As I’m getting up, I hear banging from the other side of my hotel room, I don’t have to guess what, or who is making that noise. Opening the door, I’m greeted with an unamused Josh.

“Why didn’t you answer my calls or texts? I thought something had happened to you!”

“Well as you can see, I’m fine, so if you don’t mind, I need to get ready for breakfast.”

As I turn to walk away, I’m pulled into the familiar arms of his, my forbidden safe place. If Josh knew I was harbouring these feelings for him, this would all stop, and I could potentially lose him and I’m not ready for that.

Whispering into my ear he says the one thing I’ve been desperate to hear:

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry for yesterday and the way I acted when you were talking with Orton, I know he’s just a friend but fuck, I hate when other men talk to my girl.”

“Your girl? So, are you mine then too?” I say sarcastically, knowing his answer.

He smirks “You know all this can’t be tied down.”

As much as we have had this conversation before, and I already knew his answer - it hurt but I couldn’t let him see that.

“Exactly Josh, so how about we cut the bullshit and call this for what it is? Two friends having fun.”

He spins me around and lifts my chin so I’m looking at him, his eyes dark and fiery – he was pissed.

“Okay, lets call it for what it is, you are mine.”

His large soft lips engulf my own, filling my body with the same euphoric feeling I always get with him.

“Now go get ready, Trin and Jon are waiting for us.”

At Breakfast (TD Segment)

“Hey girl, you took your time.”

“Ay did my brother try keep you from us AGAIN?”

“Trin, I overslept and Jon no one can keep me from you guys.” I say sitting next to Trin.

No matter what I’m going through, being with my family always makes me feel better. My happy place.

“Ya’ll mind if I sit?”

Joseph Fatu. As much as we run in the same circles, I’ve only ever met him once and that was in Hunters office. From what Trin and the boys have told me he’s quiet at first, but when he warms up, he is truly a special soul.

“Sit yo ass down, you aint gotta ask uce.”

I can see the Fatu resemblance. The dark mysterious eyes, the infectious smile and in contrast the brooding stare. These boys have good genes. My eyes start to wonder to the ink across his arms, studying each piece as if I was an art enthusiast. Looking back up I see his eyes are already on me with the signature Fatu stare, I smile and return to my conversation with Trin, hoping he hadn’t realised how long id been staring.

Unbeknownst to me, the waitress that had been serving us had been making heart eyes at Josh the entire time, and he had noticed this. Whether it was to get back at me for speaking up earlier or Josh being Josh, he started flirting with her at the table, she was over exaggerating her laugh and he was pulling out all the usual material that worked on these types of women. Watching him flirting wasn’t something knew and normally I wouldn’t bother much, however they exchanged numbers and arranged to meet up tonight. My stomach became heavy, and I felt like I was going to throw up, my heart was breaking once again and the cause? Josh Fatu.

Trin and Jon interview (TD segment)

“I love my brother deeply, but he is such an idiot.”

“Flirting with another girl right when yn is sitting at the table? That’s messed up.”

“Yeah Jon, your right your brother is an idiot. How could he do that to her?”

My eyes begin to sting as I excuse myself. This behaviour is nothing knew but each time it happened it took a little piece of me. Why did I have to fall in love with him of all people?!

tagged: @southerngirl41 @christinabae @raya-hunter01

#wwe #solo sikoa x yn #solo sikoa x reader #solo sikoa smut #solo sikoa #wwe fanfiction #wwe smut #wweedit #wwe x you #jey uso x reader #wwe x reader #joshua fatu smut #joseph fatu #joseph fatu smut #fatu #wwe x oc #jey uso fan fiction #the usos

[familyvideostevie]

𝟭𝟮 𝗱𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗰𝗵𝗿𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗺𝗮𝘀: 𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗲𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 

day eleven: secret santa with steve | fluff, friends to lovers, 1.8k 12 days of christmas masterlist

Steve opens his front door and his smile makes your face feel hot immediately. It's getting really tedious, being in love with him, And the holidays haven't made it any better -- everything you do together as friends feels like a date and you've dodged so much mistletoe you never want to see a sprig again. 

"Am I the last one?" you ask him as he gives you a brief hug and takes your coat. Your gift is hidden in a bag dangling from your fingers. 

"Yeah, but I've only just got them all to sit down, so you're just in time." This is your first year participating in the Secret Santa exchange with everyone else, and you're a little nervous, not in the least because it's his name that you drew. And in addition to the holidays exacerbating your feelings for Steve ,your friends haven't been a great help, either. Everyone has been teasing you about it for months and on days when you're feeling optimistic you're pretty sure Steve is getting the same treatment. You allow yourself to consider that he likes you, too. But most days the thought of confessing to him and being rejected and losing your friendship is too much, so you keep your mouth shut and swallow your affection.

"How did you manage that?" you ask. He purses his lips and runs a hand through his hair. The sleeves of his sweater are a little too long for him, the cuffs dangling to the edges of his fingers. You want to hug him again. 

"Promised them hot chocolate after it's over." You laugh and Steve beams like you've given him a gift. "Which you're going to help with," he adds, trying to sound stern. You scoff and make your way into the living room where the rest of your friends are in a wonky circle. Small bags and wrapped packages are piled in the center, each addressed to someone in the room. You shuffle them around and try to bury yours in the pile without showing it too much.

"You took forever," Mike says. "Eddie won't stop guessing who has him." The metalhead shrugs from his place on the couch, unbothered. 

"Not my fault you're easy to rile up, Wheeler." Steve appears behind you, letting his hand rest on the small of your back for just a moment before you head to a spot on the floor next to Robin. She eyes you and you refuse to meet her gaze. 

"How are we doing this?" Nancy asks.

"Someone starts and opens theirs and then guesses who gave it to them," Will says. "And when they get it right that person goes next."

Max is eyeing a very round package on the edge of the pile with a furrow in her brows. "Who goes first?"

"Steve," Robin says, a little too innocently. "Host goes first." Everyone titters a little but no one objects. 

"Uh, sure," he says. He digs through the pile in the middle before pulling out a square wrapped in blue paper with his name on it. "I think it's a baseball," he says, getting laughs and groans. 

"That was terrible, Harrington," Eddie says. "Truly awful."

"Bite me, Munson," Steve shoots back, taking his package and plopping on the couch across the circle from you. 

"Not my job," Eddie mumbles. The kids dissolve into giggles and you suddenly find your fingernails fascinating as Steve opens his present carefully, sliding his fingers underneath the taped seams to avoid tearing the paper. You didn't know he'd be so careful with it, so methodical. It makes your stomach flutter. 

"Oh, shit," he says when he sees what it is. "No way!" 

"Well, are you gonna show us?" Max asks. Why is she looking at you like that? She's going to give you away! Steve holds up the now-unwrapped album: Bruce Springsteen Live: 1975-1985. It's more a box than a sleeve, considering it's got five LPs inside. 

Jonathan whistles. "Didn't that just come out?" he asks. Steve nods, eyes raking over the cover as he turns it over with careful hands.

"Those are impossible to get," Eddie adds. "Record shop has been sold out for weeks."

Eddie is right. You had to beg the guy at the store to save one for you over a month ago. It cost more than you'd like to admit but you knew that Steve would love it and you were right. The look on his face is worth every penny. And then he looks up and right at you. You have no idea how he can tell you got it for him, but he's right. 

"You," he says. His tone makes you feel hot all over. The room seems to hold its breath and then you nod and everyone cheers. 

"Got it in one," Lucas says. "Wonder how he did that." Max elbows him. 

"Your turn," Robin says. You stand and dig in the pile for yourself until you find a soft package wrapped in green plaid with a kind of droopy white ribbon bow. You hold it up as you settled back into your spot and everyone oohs and awws appropriately. 

As soon as you tear the paper you feel your throat grow thick. 

"What is it?" El asks. You rip off the rest of the paper and inhale sharply as you realize what you're holding. 

"It's my scarf," you say quietly. Well, it's a newer version of the scarf that you wear all the time but lost a few weeks ago. 

Steve is the only person you told that you lost it. 

"Don't you have one just like that?" Dustin asks. "Kinda lame to get another."

"No," you say, clearing your throat so your voice sounds less hoarse. "No, I used to. But I lost it."

"It's pretty," Nancy said kindly. "Do you want to guess?"

You don't hesitate. "Steve," you say. You finally look at him and see that he's leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, watching you intensely. He blinks a few times and then rubs the back of his neck. Is it blushing?

"Yeah," he says. "Yeah, I'm glad you like it--"

"Crazy how you guys got each other, right?" Lucas says. Max elbows him again. "Who goes now?"

You realize then that it's been rigged. You and Steve were supposed to get each other so that your friends could see what you'd do, could watch this embarrassment play out in front of them. But they aren't cruel, so the only reason they'd do that was if they thought you both needed some nudging. So, that must mean...

You wish you could say that you pay attention to how the rest of the exchange goes. But you don't, not really. You just stroke your scarf and try not to stare too hard at Steve and fail for the most part. Your stomach feels full of butterflies and you can't believe he figured out how to find a scarf that looks exactly the same and you want to kiss him so badly you wonder how much longer you can bear not telling him so. 

Lucky for you the opportunity to do so arrives quickly. All the presents are exchanged and everyone is toying with their new items and gossiping, so when Steve stands to say he's going to start the hot chocolate, no one even blinks. And when you stand to go with him to the kitchen to help, no one says a word. 

And then you're in the kitchen, alone. 

You don't help much, instead hopping up to sit on the counter and watching as Steve pulls out a huge sauce pan and pours milk into it, setting it on the stove so that it'll warm up.

"So," he says, turning to you once he's done and crossing his arms. "Thank you for the records. It's too much, but--"

"It's not too much," you interrupt him. "I know you've wanted them ever since it was announced they'd be doing the collection." 

"You kept the secret pretty well," he says. "I don't even remember telling you that." He steps forwards and you move your knees so that he can stand in the v of your legs. His gaze is so intense you swallow. 

"You kept yours pretty well, too," you say, softer. Your hands tug on the hem of your sweater. You're starting to get worried that you'll reach out and touch him if you don't keep them occupied. "The scarf, Steve--"

"Is such a good color for you," he says. "I know you loved the other one." You hum and look away from him. "So, we're good at keeping secrets. Got any others you want to spill?"

He steps even closer, his hips hitting the counter and your knees brushing his belt. He keeps his arms crosses, still, but he's so close you can see his pupils dilate. You look down at your own hands. "Cause I've got one," he says. "I think it was rigged."

"You do?"

"I do," he says. Laughter trickles in from the other room but Steve doesn't move.

"Why?" Your words sound more like breath than anything else, but Steve understands. He always does. 

"I can think of a few reasons," he says softly. Then there's a slight pressure on your chin and you realize he's guiding it up with the knuckle of his pointer finger. "Can't you?"

"Yeah," you admit. He doesn't move his hand, keeping it touching your face, and you feel him put the other one on your knee. You cover it with one of your own and it's his turn to gasp a little. But he quickly recovers and smiles softly, eyes crinkling at the corners. 

"Wanna share with the class?" The Harrington charm is softer than it once was, and it worms its way into your heart and makes you feel like a million bucks because it's directed at you.

"You don't want to guess?" you say lightly. Steve is leaning forward now, inching closer and closer, but he's doing it so slowly.

"I don't think I have to," he says. "Do I?"

"Steve," you breathe. His hand moves from your chin to cup your jaw, thumb running over the corner of your mouth and up your cheek. You close your eyes and gently squeeze his hand. 

"Okay," he says softly. And then he's kissing you. He's kissing you right there in his kitchen, your knees digging into his hips, milk boiling on the stove, and everyone you love in the next room. He's kissing you and kissing you and kissing you and you clutch at his arm with your free hand and he pulls back a little before touching his forehead to yours. 

"Milk's probably ready," you say, eyes still closed. You feel his huff on your skin. 

"Just a second." His nose rubs against yours. "I'm enjoying my gift." A laugh bubbles out of you at his shameless flirting and you pull him in for a hug, burying your face in his neck. 

"They're gonna be smug," you say. You feel his chest rumble.

"Not as smug as me," he says. "I've got you."

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, masterlist here!

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic