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#sorry this turned into a small essay
essektheylyss · 1 year
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CR is WILD for ships like, I feel like all the characters have such unique and interesting dynamics that you can nearly ship each one with any other one and come up with a valid argument. It's the only piece of media that I can't devote myself to a single relationship because they're all so interesting in their own ways
I have two kind of parallel thoughts on relationships in CR because on one hand, you're so right that all of the characters play off each other in SUCH fun ways, and all of them are a little different!
But then at the same time, having primarily watched campaign 2, pretty much all of the ships that turned out canon by the end were deeply ingrained into their character arcs, and I eat that up so much; I think a lot of pushback against romance in media stems from the fact that often romance feels very tacked on, and that's never the case in this show! Which is STELLAR. But it does mean that I end up with preferences, but usually only in hindsight (or well down the line).
This campaign, though, hasn't had that set up nearly so clearly, whereas you can see how beauyasha and fjorester at the very least were set up from episode one, and then even when you consider shadowgast, although that was never a guarantee, there's a lot to establish why they gravitated towards each other (pun intended lol). (I'm not mentioning the Brenattos because they were married prior to the campaign and also because Veth was blatantly obscuring her interests through the first 40 episodes, whereas Caleb lays out his own interests a lot earlier on.) And I'm really excited about how Laudna and Ashton are engaging now! There's been some indications of it, but primarily on 4sd out of character, and the canon conversation was SO juicy, oh my god.
But honestly, this is why it's so fun thinking about how all of them interact with each other on multiple levels of relationships—and why I've in the past been :/ about collapsing relationships in this show in particular into 'ships'. I was actually already thinking about this this week lol—I... may have considered sourcing and writing a whole essay about how ubiquitous a term 'ship' is in fandom culture, and how it suffers deeply for the fact that it is a very broad brush used to paint any character interaction and dynamic without accounting for the very messy relationships that people can have. The CR cast does SUCH a good job creating very realistic, complex character relationship dynamics, and it often feels like a term that is too overburdened to engage with canon well.
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peregrineggsandham · 1 year
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But that’s wrong? Someone can say “Its raining”, but that doesn’t mean the other person hears or even understands them, even if they speak the same language. It means nothing.
I mean, we can just talk about the sequence of sounds that we can write out phonetically as /ɪts ˈreɪnɪŋ/. And yes, those are inherently meaningless. It's just a bunch of noises! As I said, nothing iconic, or even remotely evocative of rain.
But meaning is formed around that sequence of sounds by those who create and hear it - speaker and listener alike. And that meaning is predicated on a wonderful mix of speaker intention, listener bias, historical context, shared cultural knowledge, and a host of unspoken conversational maxims and patterns.
I was definitely focusing on the meaning as interpreted by the listener in that last post, so I'm sorry if that confused things. And I was sort of assuming that the listener and speaker were in an ongoing conversation and understanding each other. But even if they weren't, even if the listener couldn't understand the speaker, that doesn't mean the utterance itself "means nothing". If said with the intent to communicate, then it definitely means something at the very least to the speaker! Like you said - someone can say it! And there lies a full half of the meaning.
Conversation is inherently a collaborative act, but it starts with the speaker's intent behind an utterance. They're taking a complex idea - the concrete "rain", the more abstract "-ing" and "'s", the somewhat idiomatic "it" - and turning that combination of ideas into the movement of a stream of air, following a strict set of patterns and rules that developed organically over thousands of years. That's neat!
If the listener doesn't speak the language, or mishears, then they may not pick up on that meaning. It could just be sounds, to them. Or they may even misunderstand, and pick up an unintended meaning. If they lack some of the required context (e.g. by not knowing a word), or if the speaker is flouting one of those unspoken maxims (e.g. by being sarcastic) and the listener doesn't realize it, the meaning may be warped.
The utterance of the sounds /ɪts ˈreɪnɪŋ/, the writing of the phrase "It's raining", you're right that these aren't inherently meaningful. If the sequence "itsraining" happened to appear in a randomly-generated string of letters, I wouldn't personally assume any meaning to it. And since this train of thought did start on the topic of magic, I'll say I find nothing particularly magical about a string of random sounds or letters either.
(Now, if you did see meaning in that random string, I think you'd effectively be practicing some kind of divination, by believing that there was intent behind the randomness. That the universe or whoever or whatever produced the string was actively trying to communicate with you. That's a pretty common idea when we talk about certain kinds of "magic". I think it's interesting that words, symbols, and communication from some unseen "speaker" are so integral to our understanding of it, and I think there's something to be said there for seeing language itself as an inherently "magical" thing regardless of whether your interlocutor is just your next-door neighbor or... whatever you personally believe is at the other end of an alectryomancy session. But dammit Jim I'm a phonetician, not an occultist.)
Point is, in conversation, in the context of a person speaking to another (regardless of whether it's understood), an utterance (or any sequence of symbols) is meaningful because of the intent behind it. Not the sounds themselves, but the very act of turning ideas into symbols - and back again.
...
I apologize if I'm repeating myself a bit - it's quite late and the question of "what does it mean for a utterance to have meaning" is actually a really interesting and complicated one, anon!
I'm admittedly being more flowery and less technical about it here because in the end my other main point is just "Isn't language really astoundingly neat?", but this is the stuff from which journal articles are written. (Usually involving a surprising amount of predicate logic.) It's an important line of inquiry because it can help explain a lot of where communication goes right and wrong, how misunderstandings happen, and how to effectively convey ideas to others.
That said, to be fair this isn't my specific area of expertise - I'm in the phon/phon corner where we ask people to make noises and stare at spectrograms all day, this is more the sem/prag corner where they put lambda calculus and philosophy in a blender.
@cryptotheism Ach, look what you made me do, I'm rambling about sounds.
#linguistics#semantics & pragmatics & semiotics are entire fields of study for a reason! people can and do spend years talking about this very issue.#I took a great pragmatics class once - the first week of which was titled ''what does 'mean' mean?''#for instance - if a speaker says ''it's raining'' aloud to -themself- without intent to communicate with a separate listener#is it still a meaningful utterance?#it doesn't add things to any kind of conversational common ground#but it may still serve a specific purpose to the speaker in helping them organize their thoughts#and it isn't a random string of sounds said for the sake of making sounds#so we can argue that it does indeed still have meaning#magically speaking I'd jest that the speaker is casting a one-person spell of 'remind myself why I picked up that umbrella a second ago'#now... could a random string of sounds said by a person with the sole intent of making meaningless sounds... have meaning?#it may convey information! that information being ''I am making some meaningless sounds.''#it's not really -language- but does it -mean- something?#does it -mean- something in a different way from how 'it's raining' -means- something?#and from there you get into a couple different definitions of the word 'mean'#the specifics of which I don't remember though now I sorta want to track down the paper we read that first introduced it#it was super interesting and a bit of a mind-bender#sam says stuff sometimes#sam says... a lot of stuff apparently - whoops#I'm sorry anon I didn't intend this to turn into a small essay
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capricornsicle · 1 year
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(Image: Handshake meme template. One arm is "Deucalion in season 5", the other is "Beacon Hills lacrosse refs". Where they're shaking hands is replaced by the "I pretend I do not see it" meme.)
#look I have a lot of thoughts about teen wolf lacrosse. feel free to send asks/dms if you have questions I love talking about this#sorry in advance for the essay in the tags#I was suddenly possessed by the need to make this as quickly as possible#this is going to be funny to a small sect of people but I hope it will be as funny as I think it is#the refs fr be like -_-#you are not doing your job. why#the players will be fouling + illegal checking + stabbing + breaking bones + turning into wolves on the field and the refs are like#(looking off into the distance) hmm did I leave the stove on?#this is what I get for playing lacrosse in high school#I am one of 4 people who understands a sport that is a great metaphor aside from how much the refs ignore shit#ONE OF THE PLAYERS STABS SOMEONE. THIS HAPPENS IN S4#if you can't follow play fast enough to see the most obvious foul in history why are you coaching#I know it's an aggressive sport but I coached middle schoolers as part of my longstanding high school detention#and as a lax ref the first thing you learn is how to break up a fight#bet these mfs on the sidelines have never gotten stick checked in the throat by an angry 13yo#like when they do break up a scuffle they do it so limp wristy#'are you gonna do that again' 'no' 'sure thing kid'#even if cody saintgnue was the one blatantly fouling like that I would still call that shit! you can't body slam someone! that's not legal!#ffs tv acts like ANYTHING is legal in lacrosse and it's basically soccer with sticks#checking is not targeted harassment (at least that's not legal play) it's only allowed when someone has the ball or is picking it up#and if you keep body checking someone when you can get by with less you will get called#in fact you get preemptively fouled for body checking too often even when it's entirely legal#+ most body checks are shoulder bc it's way easier to dislodge the ball without breaking someone's back#teen wolf#teen wolf memes#you ever think there's a watermark on your meme but then realize it's just tumblr text editing icons all over the place? good times
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scalproie · 8 months
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I'm not really like. Upset at the pure fact of Kuai being scorpion, more just that Hanzo might be gone. He really is a tragedy, and it was fun seeing his arc in both timelines. Mostly, besides when Raiden called him Q-C's slave and present Hanzo death. I liked that he became the face of mk but wasn't a chosen one or a altruistic hero or something like that, hell he wasn't even supposed to be popular, just a fun lil thing for the og cast cause his rivalry with Subz.
He just became the popular one cause hes just really fucking cool. He Is good, but unrelenting about what he wants, he's not above killing yet shows restraint for the special forces and Kuai in X. Everything he does is for a reason, maybe not a good one but one you can see the reasoning behind. He's not the most complex character to exist but he's a really fun character.
Plus, I miss the old man yaoi, more on the Old part. Everyone looks so young in 1. My wrinkly old farts are gone ✊️😔
yeah no hanzo being completely MIA so far is a valid concern. but I would like to trust that nrs are not completely clueless over why their characters are beloved in the first place and know that half the appeal of scorpion was hanzo's story and not just his general aesthetic, so I dare hold onto the hope that he's gonna make an appearance in the story, or at the very least, I would settle for a solid justification in-game over why he's missing.
Hard agree on your take on scorpion too, in the great mk universe he is at his core Just A Guy with a storyline thats compelling and could be standalone. Like for exemple, you cant take liu kang, raiden and shang stung (and goro) out of mortal kombat because they ARE mortal kombat, you could technically take sonya (and jax) and kano out of mk but in my personal opinion it wouldnt make for a super interesting story cause its like, standard military mumbo jumbo. Johnny is an outlier and should not be counted, his whole appeal is that he is an actor, adaptable, and is more than he seems. But I genuinely think the ninja storyline with scorpion AND sub zero could be divorced from mortal kombat and still be extremely compelling, even if it does lose a significant amount of meat bc of it.
Also yeah he wasnt meant to be the mascot but im glad he is (alongside subz kinda but he really takes the forefront since mkx) bc like i said before character favoritism is okay if i like said character. Which i do. Also since he really wasnt meant to be mk's face, its funny to imagine if another character got the spot, like imagine reptile on cover bc he was a secret boss back in the day and people (and ed boon) loved him so much he blew up in popularity, while sub zero was relegated to a jobber, and scorpion was dlc like ermac is nowadays (🥹👍)
(Anyway the lesson here is when two characters are so intricately linked in their storyline like scorpy and subz are, they lift each other to the top.)
Anyway back on scorpion, I really enjoyed his arc in the second timeline as well bc yeah, he isnt as shackled in his morality as other characters and I really love that they let him fuck up massively, like killing bi-han ib mk9 when he swore not to, and when he killed quan chi in mkx, its very accidentaly "scorpion and the frog" of him and I like that "he couldnt change his nature" :) he's a really really enjoyable character to watch partly bc hes been through a lot but also bc he genuinely is conceptually so cool. Also I will not be the first to say that his relationship with kuai liang/sub zero in the second timeline was the best written arc they did, that spawned over three whole games too.
SPEAKING OF Im gonna miss the old man yaoi sooo much too, its was about the "finding love again/for the first time in your forties" yknow? Esp with someone u had a complicated history with. Man.
And finally. Technically I understand every character going back to their 20s with the new timeline thingie, I even could understand our resident old man raiden not being old anymore with the whole divinity switch with liu kang but LIU KANG ISNT OLD TO COUNTERBALANCE. HE DOESNT EVEN HAVE HIS WHITE GOD HAIR ANYMORE. and take of depending temperature but Ive always enjoyed shang stung as an old evil man so much more than him young and him not even being old anymore is such a loss to me. So yeah Im mourning my fucking dilfs and senior citizens man😔
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wreckofawriter · 7 months
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Only If You Catch Me
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pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader
summary: fred had always been frustrated by your endeavors with other men, especially other men that always looked quite a bit like him. after a disastrous mistake during quidditch practice you find yourself wondering how you had never seen fred Weasley in the light you saw him in now
word count: 4.4k
warnings: jealousy, language (maybe?), only proof read once so sorry for any mistakes!
a/n: this is my first big piece in ages, I hope you guys enjoy and im so sorry for my prolonged absence i fell off on writing for a while and im just now getting back to it
♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~
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♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~
Some things were just facts, plain and simple; the sky is blue, two and two is four and you had a type.
“Another ginger I see.” Alicia murmured as you sat down across from her, pints of butter beer clinking together. Your eyes were locked with a pretty freckled boy by the bar. 
You huffed even though she was quite right, this must have been the third redhead that you set sights on this year. “Well William got boring and,” You paused wrinkling your nose, “-pushy” 
The Three Broomsticks was packed, the sounds of chatter and warmth guarding you from the icy cold of the blizzard that had swept through Hogsmeade. You and Alicia had joined the dozens of students seeking cover in the popular pub and quickly snagged a small table near a large fireplace where you now looked out on the sea of flushed faces and smiles. 
“With your type it's a wonder your last name isn’t Weasley.” Your friend chuckled and you laughed. 
“If I could have gotten my hands on Charlie, it would be.” You replied, your silly crush on the older Weasley brother lasting from your first year to what you were sure would be your last. 
Alicia giggled, taking a large swig from her pint, licking the foam off her top lip. “Why not one of the twins then?”
“What twins?” A voice asked from behind you.
“She couldn’t be talking about us now could she, Georgie?” Fred jested.
“No no,” The other replied, “I mean what could Spinnet possibly want from us?”
Alicia rolled her eyes with great effort, “Trust me when I say I want nothing to do with you. As for my friend here, I don't know if I can say the same.” she said with a smug grin and you sent her a furious look.
Fred smirked, leaning over the back of your chair, his large palms ghosting your shoulders, “Is that true? Do you need something from us?” He leaned in even further, his nose brushing your hair, “from me?”
You began to look a bit red as he pulled away, “Please Weasley,” you managed to scoff “since when do I need things from you? In fact, I believe you still have my Charms notes.”
Fred had come to stand in front of you now, George joining his side, “It's just that your notes are so much better for writing Flitwick’s essay. ” He argued. 
“You don’t even take notes.” You said, exasperated. 
“Exactly” The twins replied in unison. 
Alicia snickered beside you.
Chairs appeared and Fred and George sat. The table seemed half the size it was before as Fred's elbow knocked against yours.
“Made yourselves at home have you?” You spoke, wincing.
Fred just grinned and leaned purposefully closer, thighs now brushing.
You slid towards Alicia who was turning a laugh into a cough and set your eyes back on the boy with freckles. 
“You headed to the Slytherin match next weekend?” Alicia asked absently.
“Of course.” George replied, “I’ve bet Lee a galleon that Malfoy catches a bludger with his nose.” he chuckled,  “He reckons it’ll be his gut.” 
You all smiled at the idea, no one hated Malfoy more than those on the Gryffindor quidditch team. 
“We also have business to do.” Fred said, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously.
“You don't have any more of those nosebleed nougats do you?” You asked, eyes still across the room, “I’ve got to get out of Binns’ class tomorrow.” 
Alicia's eyebrows shot up, you hardly missed History of Magic, or as you liked to call it, nap hour. “Why's that?”. 
“No reason.” You mumbled, intently staring into your butterbeer. 
Fred’s eyes darted between the two of you. 
“Of course we’ve got some.” grinned George, oblivious, “2 sickles a pei-.”
“Or for free if you tell us what you're up to.” Fred interrupted, catching a strange look from his brother. 
“I'm not up to anything!” You gasped with a bit too much enthusiasm. 
Alicias eyes had narrowed to slits and Fred had never looked more unconvinced. 
Your face began to grow hot and you found yourself wishing you had more grace in the act of lying.
“Oh come off it,” George said, “If she wants to snog Murphy instead of hearing about the seventh generation of goblin rebellions, who are we to judge?” 
You were glowing pink now, sending a vicious look at George who had taken to sipping his drink innocently. 
Fred looked appalled, his face contorted like he had just caught a whiff of something horrible, “Murphy!” 
“Keep your voice down.” You hissed angrily, glazing across the room again to be sure he hadn’t heard, “I'm trying to keep it quiet.” 
Fred was fuming, “Who wouldn’t, swapping spit with a git like that.” 
You scoffed, pulling out a small coin purse, “Can I just have some nougat?”
“Nope.” Fred responded, voice suddenly ferocious, “We’re out.”
You were beginning to grow frustrated, “George just said you had some.”
Fred glared at you, “We’re out.” he repeated his nose high in the air.
You turned to George looking for help but he threw you an I’m-not-getting-into-this look and you were forced to round back on Fred. 
You glared at each other for a moment before Fred caved, "Fine we’ve got some,” He huffed, “Three Galleons.” 
Your mouth dropped, “George said 2 sickles!”
He crossed his arms, “They’re in high demand.”
You stood, chair flying back into the wall with a loud crack, “You’re a complete prick.” you said sharply snatching your bag and sweeping past Fred and over to meet Finn Murphy  who was now standing to leave the pub. 
“Well I think you handled that well.” Alicia said, grinning at Fred who looked as though he had been slapped. 
George, who looked all too happy with himself for instigating such an interesting conversation, helped himself to the remains of your butterbeer as you and Murphy bowed out into the flurry of white followed closely by Fred’s glare.
“Looks as though she's gonna snog every redhead at school before you.” Alicia snicked. 
“Yeah,” George snorted, “You might want to keep an eye on Ginny.”
Alicia giggled even harder, pressing a hand to her lips in an attempt to keep her drink in her mouth. 
Fred could hardly hear them, too busy envisioning your latest with large boils all over his face or perhaps vomiting indefinitely. 
Alicia managed to contain herself and shot Fred a sympathetic glance, “I've been trying you know, I keep bringing you up but she seems far more interested in Charlie.” 
“Charlie!” He guffawed, “But he's been gone for ages!”
“Well he seemed to have made quite the impression.” Alicia chuckled. 
“He was captain when she was appointed to the team.” George pointed out. 
“Yeah when she was TWELVE” Fred gasped. 
Alicia couldn’t help it, she had started laughing again, “Relax,” She spoke between breaths, “It’s just a silly school girl crush.” 
Fred looked unconvinced and began to tap his heel incessantly against the floor.
“Take it as a complement!” She continued, “Charlie looks quite a bit like you, I mean you are related after all.” 
Fred was not taking it as pleasantly as she suggested and began to rap his foot on the ground even faster, “We’ve got to do something.” 
“We?” George snorted, “This is all you mate. I’m not the one in love with her.” 
Freds ears grew pink, “I’m not in love with her!” he sputtered. 
“Whatever you say.” Alicia spoke rolling her eyes.
The truth was that if Fred wasn't in love with you, he was so close he may as well have been. At the very least he had been pining after you for years and he had never been particularly quiet about it. In fact he was the opposite of quiet about it. His flirtatious remarks and dazzling complements were quite consistent. Unfortunately so was his coursing jealousy as you paraded around with boy after boy who was not him.  Every year he swore would be the year. The year where you finally realized it was him you needed and all would be right in Fred's world. But time and time again he failed as you walked out the door with a different redhead. He was growing nervous, his seventh year was upon him and this may be his last chance before you were all carted off in different directions never to see each other again. The frustration of it all was turning him bitter.
That night Fred lay awake on his four-poster, staring at the ceiling venomously. What was it? He wondered, What was it that he didn't have that every other ginger you knew seemed to possess? Why was it never him pulling you into broom closets and meeting you after classes? What was he doing wrong? His thoughts spun until he drifted into an uneasy slumber. 
By the time he arrived at the quidditch pitch for practice the next morning, the rest of the team was already changing into their robes as Angilina scribbled vigorously on the chalkboard in front of them, already changed and ready. 
“Fred!” She shouted watching him try to sneak his way into the bustle of the team unnoticed, “What took so long? I was beginning to think I would have to send George back up to wake you.” 
He shrugged, “Sorry Cap, I didn’t get much sleep last night if you know what I mean.” he winked at her and she looked sorely unamused. 
You on the other hand perked up at the insinuation, finally looking at the twin who, in protest of his behavior the day before, you had been ignoring. 
“She gets what I mean,” He smirked nodding towards you, “Up late with Murphy boy last night?” He asked viciously. 
You flushed as the changing room filled with chuckles. 
“Murphy?” Angelina asked, turning to you, “Isn’t he a bit,” She paused, “dim?” 
You scowled at Fred silently before snatching your broom from the rack and marching so quickly out onto the pitch that you hadn’t even noticed you had hit Harry in the temple with its handle. 
As Potter groaned in pain and fixed his askew glasses Fred looked over to Alicia who was shaking her head slightly. As the rest of the team slowly followed you out onto the field she and George made their way towards him. 
“You’re an idiot.” Alicia groaned, “No wonder she won’t go out with you.”  
George chuckled.
Fred glared at the pair, “It’s not my fault she insists on only snogging boys who are 'a bit dim.'" he spoke, mocking Angelina.
“I know that this may be hard to wrap your head around,” Alicia spoke sharply, “But maybe she went out with Murphy because he was, ya know, nice to her.” She then shouldered past the twins leaving Fred gapping at his brother desperately. 
The day was crisp, the heavy licks of winter drawn in by a bitter wind. But the sky was clear and the sun was out, much to everyone’s appreciation. 
Fred mounted his broom still angry, feeling foolish for upsetting you yet again as you stood with your back to him defiantly. 
The whistle blew and the balls were released as the team kicked off, snow flying in all directions as you did so. 
Fred's head was not in practice as it should have been but instead on you, watching you speed towards the goal posts with the quaffle already under your arm. You scored easily on Ron with a feign left.
Fred was so absorbed in you that he had completely forgotten about the bludgers, one of which was hurtling at him with frightening speed. With little time to react he swung his bat wildly and pitched the bludger in the opposite direction, which with a sickening feeling he realized was right at you. 
He tried to shout but you must not have heard him over the howling of wind in your ears. Because when the bludger struck you heavily between the shoulder blades you were completely unprepared. Your vision danced as the air was knocked from your lungs. You were flung from your broom with a shriek and began to plummet.
Fred streamed after you, urging his broom towards the ground with a frightening speed. His Cleansweep shuttered under the immense pressure he suddenly held it in and never before had Fred wished so badly for Potters Firebolt. 
He managed to get beneath you mere feet from the ground. The force at which you hit him knocked you both into the snow with a heavy thud, and there was a sickening sound as his broom snapped in two. 
Neither of you moved for a moment, the snow settling around you and beginning to melt through your robes. 
“Are you alright?” Fred asked and was struck with panic when you did not respond. He sat up quickly pulling you with him, your legs tangled together in the snow. He called your name desperately, hands holding your face as you lay limp in his arms. 
Angelina landed beside the pair followed closely by George and Alicia both of whom were wearing nervous expressions. 
“Y/n!” Fred shouted again, tears stinging his eyes, fear gripping his throat like a vice. He was moments away from shaking you when your eyes slowly peeled open. 
“Fred?” You mumbled, confused. 
The boy let out a barking laugh of relief and then dove into a hug, almost knocking you back to the ground. 
Bewildered, you returned his embrace and realized quite suddenly how much larger than you Fred really was. You practically disappeared into his chest, his broad shoulders shielding you from the wind that whipped across the pitch. You felt frighteningly warm listening to his heart beat quickly beneath his robes. Your cheeks were hot as he pulled away from you and began to search for any look of pain or damage on your face. 
“Are you alright love?” He asked again and was washed with relief when you nodded. 
As you fully realized what was going on around you, you gasped, pulling the handle of Fred's broom out of the snow.
“Your broom!” You looked horrified, “Fred, your broom broke!” 
Fred on the other hand brushed it off helping you to your feet and beginning to pat the snow off your robes, “It’s alright, I’m sure it's fixable.” he shrugged, “Listen, I am so s-”
But before Fred could finish his apology George burst between the two of you, “I am so sorry!” He spoke hurriedly, “The bludger caught me off guard. I swear I wasn’t aiming for you.” 
You chuckled, giving George a pat on the shoulder, “I sure hope not, but 's not me you should be apologizing to anyway.” You said, “It's Fred’s broom that broke.”  
George did not issue his brother any regrets and instead sent him a wink, whipping his wand out of robes and shouting “Repairo!”
The broom snapped back together and Angelina, who was desperate to get back in the air, looked to you, “You alright then?” 
You nodded with a grin and turned back to Fred who was testing the strength of his brother's repair. 
“Thank you so much Fred,” You gushed, looking up at him through your lashes. 
The boy's heart skipped a beat, stomach lurching, “It was no problem really.” He breathed and miraculously found you in his arms for the second time as you lunged towards him.
“Thank you.” You murmured into his robes before disconnecting and swiftly boarding your broom again. 
Fred watched you leave struck for a moment. Alicia shot him a thumbs up and a grin before he was able to clumsily climb onto his own broom and follow you back up into the air. 
By dinner the story of your fall had been told and retold so many times that you were now said to have plummeted upwards of a hundred meters before Fred had heroically scooped you onto his own broom, saving what was sure to be your life. 
In the great hall you kept getting asked if you were okay as down the table Fred got clapped on the shoulder and congratulated for his great save. He seemed to be enjoying the new story a fair bit more than you were. 
Finn had come over to ask about you halfway through dinner but you found suddenly that he was no less than boring and he returned to the Hufflepuff table after a few short minutes with a look of disappointment on his face. 
Fred watched this with such delight he was sure he was glowing. George -who he had been applauding as the best wingman one could ask for all day- poked him hard in the side and pointed down the table to where you sat. Fred turned to catch your eyes already on him. He winked exuberantly and you turned away with a scoff, but your cheeks had taken a rather deep shade of red. 
He grinned so wide at George he thought his lips might split, “I mean this is some real progress!” He cheered, “Did you see that? She was staring at me!” 
Down the hall you turned to Alicia, cheeks still pink, “Have you ever noticed how tall Fred is?” You asked so suddenly she choked on her pumpkin juice. 
You stared at her curiously as she wiped her mouth with her sleeve smiling, “Oh yeah very tall.”
You hummed looking back down the table at the elder twin who was now laughing wildly at something Lee had said, “I guess I never really thought about it before.” 
Angilina shot Alicia a glance as you were distracted and the two of them broke out into giggles. 
“What?” You demanded though you were still smiling. 
“Oh nothing.” Angilina grinned and you huffed turning back to your dinner. 
You found yourself wishing Fred had chosen to sit a bit closer to you as you watched a group of girls across from him break out into giggles at something he said, “There's no way he's that funny.” You muttered knowing he in fact was. 
  Yet you couldn’t find yourself being all that jealous as he kept glancing up at you, as if checking to make sure you were still watching him and much to his delight you always were. His shoulders, you noticed from where you sat picking at plum pudding, were quite wide, his arms toned. It was no wonder that he had engulfed you completely out on the pitch. 
How had I never noticed this before? You found yourself wondering. How had he managed to escape your list of potential suitors when he was so obviously perfect for you?
The thought struck you rather abruptly and while you would have liked to have sat with it for a minute, Alicia was standing and you knew it was time to head back to the common room. 
As students began to flood from the hall you fiddled with the sleeves of your robes, thoughts full of brown eyes and freckles . 
As if summoned, Fred appeared at your side grinning widely, “Hello.”
“Hey Fred,” replied Alicia. 
“Have you guys heard the news?” He asked, throwing an arm around your shoulder. You tried hard not to blush and instead shook your head, staring at the floor. “Apparently, you owe me your life.” He was beaming down at you now and you found it hard to look away. 
“Oh yeah?” You smirked, “And I heard it was actually you who hit me with that bludger.” 
His smile disappeared only momentarily and you were happy to see it recover so quickly. 
“Ah well, I figured Angelina wouldn’t keep her mouth shut.” He shrugged, “Though I swear if I had a choice I would have knocked her off her broom instead.” 
And for the first time that evening jealousy took you strongly, “Oh yeah? I suppose she would have been a bit more fun to catch then?” 
Fred looked startled by your bristly reaction, “Nah,” He responded, “That would have been Georgie’s job.” 
You were satisfied with this answer and felt yourself leaning against him as you began up towards the tower.
George was delighted to see you still tucked beneath his brother's arm when you reached the common room. He called you over to where he sat and you placed yourself in a large squishy armchair as Fred perched himself beside you on an ottoman. 
You spent your evening rather uneventfully, finishing an essay for Snape as the Gryffindors slowly filtered off to bed in pairs. When George rose to take himself to the dormitory you expected Fred to follow but instead he stayed rooted by your feet where he now sat cross legged on the carpet looking over what looked like an extensive order form. 
Hours later you yawned, stretching when you finally finished your work. It was now well past midnight and only a few fifth years remained, cramming for a quiz in transfiguration the next day. You turned to look at Fred who had long since sprawled himself across the couch before the fire and found him snoring softly. 
A jolt of infatuation made your stomach flip. His messy hair glowed shockingly bright in the fire light, his pink lips slightly agape. You gathered your things slowly, sure not to wake him before you stood beside him.
You knew you should wake him, you were the reason he had not retreated to bed after all. But he looked so peaceful like this, so soft. Instead you found yourself slowly counting the freckles that sprawled across his cheeks, leaning close to brush a strand of his bright red hair out of his face. He woke immediately at your touch, large brown eyes locking with your own.
You felt your cheeks go hot, “You should go up to bed.” You mumbled beginning to pull away. 
He snatched your wrist with such haste it took you by surprise, “Do that again.” he spoke.
You furrowed your brow, “What?” 
“With my hair,” It was his turn to blush now, “Touch my hair again.” 
It felt as though the air was sucked from your lungs yet you found yourself obeying, fingers coming to comb through the soft waves that spread across his forehead. 
He hummed, leaning into your touch slowly, gaze still locked with yours. The two of you stayed there for a moment, you kneeling beside him fingers in his hair, his hand still loosely wrapped around your wrist. 
“I’m sorry.” He murmured and you looked at him confused. 
“For what?” 
“Hitting you with a bludger.” he responded remorsefully. 
You laughed softly, your head thrown back, “It's okay Fred.” you grinned. You were close now, so close Fred could feel the tickle of your breath on his cheek, “I forgive you. You made up for it after all.” 
He smirked in spite of himself, “I suppose I did, saving your life and all.” 
You were giggling again and Fred was sure he was in some beautiful dream where all he could ever hear or see was your joy. 
“I wouldn’t push your luck if I were you.” You grinned, “I may just chuck the quaffle at your head when you're not looking.” 
“Only if you catch me when I fall.” Fred whispered, leaning closer still. 
You let him, your lips connecting slowly. You were pleased to find he was a fantastic kisser, his lips soft and plush, eager to please. His free hand cupped your cheek as he pulled you closer still until you were practically on top of him.
One of the alarm clocks the fifth years had been attempting to turn to roosters burst to life and you pulled away abruptly remembering bitterly that you and him were not the only ones in the room. Fred chased after your lips with his own desperate for even a moment more with your mouth.
“You should get to bed.” You repeated standing now, knees a bit shaky. 
Fred was disappointed by your departure but grinned wildly nonetheless as you gathered your books into your arms and turned back to him. 
“I’ll see you tomorrow Fred.” You yawned and began up the stairs to your dormitory determined not to let him see the childish glee that had spread across your face. 
“Wait!” He called after you, lurching from the couch and stopping at the bottom of the steps. 
You turned back to him taking in the wonderful sight of him staring lovingly up at you. He looked delightfully disheveled, his hair a mess and his lips swollen from your touch. You took two steps down now only one above where he stood on the hardwood floor.
You looked down at him expectantly as his eyes bore into your own. 
He lifted himself onto his toes and grabbed your shoulders forcinging you forward where you connected for a second time. 
This time his breath was hot and heavy on your lips, his earnest intensifying to a level that you could only describe as hunger. Your feet dangled momentarily in the air as he lifted you fervently into his embrace. You were suddenly engulfed in Fred again, he was all you could smell sweet and cinnamon, all you could hear were his pants in your ear, all you could feel was him, his arms around your middle, his thigh pressed between your legs and his lips and tongue working so well together that it was you who chased after him this time, whining in protest when he pulled back.
You stared at him, out of breath and stunned to silence. 
Fred looked as though he had just won something very expensive the way he was grinning with triumph, his eyes dark with lust. 
 “Sweet dreams love.” He murmured leaning down to give you one final kiss, his lips moving sickeningly slow against your own, wet and warm. He hovered inches form your lips for a moment, as if debating diving back in, before he backed away tucking his hands casually into his robes.
“You should go to bed, love.” He smirked, “We’ve got an early practice tomorrow and I do believe you made me a promise about knocking me off my broom.” 
You bit your lip to keep from breaking into girlish giggles. Your heart was still pounding as though you had just run a long race. 
“Only if you swear to catch me though.” He added with a wink.
“I’ll always catch you Freddie.” you assured him before turning and hurrying back up the stairs, grinning so wide your cheeks had begun to ache.
♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~
taglist: @accio-rogers @roslea @k3nz-dood13 @theseuscmander @sleepingalaska @chloe-geoghegan1 @coldlilheart @the-natureofme @trickylittlewitch @layaa-layaaa @sarcasticallywitty @rosieweasley @dracosgoodgirl @inglourious-imagines @princess-jules47 @daedreamss @d22malfoys @evyiione
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lex-the-flex · 4 months
Note
coriolanus snow being jelly/ needy and demanding attention,,
been obsessed with him lately tehe <3
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“You’re staring again, Coryo.” You announce through your focused state.
"Sorry, Y/N. Can't help it." He says, tossing his pen on the table.
Closing your notebook, you let out a sigh, rubbing your face in mere frustration. Leaning back in your chair, the study room’s ticking clock provides a low level profile for getting work done. But in this case, you were far more than ready to give up.
“It’s not fair! Why must our professors give us an essay and two projects to work on? Do they think we’re robots?!” Arachne questions, throwing her history book on the table.
Turning to face Coriolanus, you widely opened your eyes, hoping he shared the same annoyance at Arachne’s endless complaining. Thankfully he did. Offering you a small smile, you turned back to the study group.
“Because we’re preparing for the 10th Hunger Games. We need to know the importance of the games.” Clemensia replies.
“Besides, we’re all going to be mentors next year. So this is vital for the University. They accept any students who wish to be mentors.” Sejanus adds, leaning onto the table.
“Okay, Mr. Plinth Prize. Please spare us of your wisdom and can we please go get dinner before the mess hall closes?” Arachne asks, standing from her chair.
“Yes please! I’m starving.” Clemensia responds, grabbing her bag.
Standing from your spot at the table, you notice that everyone has practically bolted out the door: except for Coriolanus.
“You okay, Y/N?” He asks, grabbing his bag.
“Yeah, just exhausted, that’s all. I feel like I’m reaching my limit, Coryo.” You respond.
Following Coriolanus to the mess hall, you were so deep into your conversation that you stopped paying attention to the stairs. Upon reaching the second to last bottom step, the sole of your shoe got caught, and you started to fall forward towards the carpeted floor.
Unable to stop yourself, Coriolanus jumped in and leaped forward. Swiftly catching you in his arms, you couldn’t help but yelp at the action.
“Are you alright? What happened?” He asked.
“I’m alright. I think I just slipped.” You reply.
Glancing up at Coriolanus, his worried face and scrunched brows made your stomach turn with excitement. His icy blue eyes were forever locked onto your own e/c orbs and his once neat blonde curls were now draped over his forehead.
Keeping his arms gently around your forearms, the echoing ambiance of the mess hall seemed to fade, until Arachne interrupted.
“Oh what do we have here? Some new lovebirds in our midst no doubt.” She teases.
“Leave them alone.” Sejanus called out.
Finally letting go of Coriolanus, the two of you fixed your uniforms and promptly headed to get dinner. Waiting in line for your food, you couldn’t help but feel Coriolanus’ grip on your shoulders. As your heartbeat slowly started to return to normal, you refused to let Arachne’s constant jokes get in your head.
After all, you had better things to worry about.
Returning to the study room, Coriolanus offered to carry your meal, so once he opened his paper bag, you rested your hand on top of his to make sure he didn’t let go.
“There. Thanks, Coryo.” You replied.
Briefly pulling your hand away, Coriolanus wouldn’t let you. He wanted to keep you here, with his hand in yours. But he hesitantly let go, as he knew that the study session was almost over.
Finishing your meals, you let Clemensia proofread your essay, to which she found was brilliant. After a while, you noticed that Coriolanus slowly moved closer to you. And after a few minutes of concentrated silence, his fingers began to brush along the trim of your jacket. Facing him, he promptly motioned toward his pile of notes.
“Can you explain this to me, Y/N? I don’t know what this line means.” He asked.
Leaning closer, you ended up sitting on the edge of your chair. Offering his hand on the small of your back, Coriolanus gave you his full attention as you started to explain the poem to him.
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remuslovebot · 10 months
Note
sirius black being the cockiest mf ever trying to impress his crush and she is not impressed in the slightest to the point he starts getting really shy around her because he no longer knows how to act if his usual bravado doesn't work
but turns out just being his dorky, vulnerable, and still (softer) flirty self works like a charm!!
Sirius would totally the most cocky and immature tactics to get you to go out with him. it would be romantic for sure. im picturing the dance number that heath ledger sings in “10 things i hate about you.”
I hope you enjoy!
𝐂𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐲 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐟𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮 | 𝐒.𝐁
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summery: after Sirius gives up on his boastful ways of flirting, you turn the other cheek and notice the popular marauder is sweet and dorky on the inside.
warnings: not proof read. one inappropriate joke, but that’s all 🫶🏻
pairing: sirius black x reader
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Sirius Black was a charmer. That was for certain. Rumors spread like the plague of his roughish ways. You were not a fan of him, which was unfortunate for you because he was a fan of you. Constantly. Every chance he would get, he would flirt you up in the hallway.
“Hey y/n, what are you doing later?” He would ask you. You replied with, “McGonagall’s transfiguration essay.”
Sirius just smirked and returned with his cocky banter, “That’s a shame, I wish you’d do me instead.” He grinned, James and Peter behind him laughing.
It wasn’t genuine, or at least that’s how you felt. You rolled your eyes and replied with, “You wish, Black. In your dreams.”
You walked away with out seeing or hearing Sirius’ response. It frustrated you to no end that he would joke that way. You wanted to save him the trouble. He was obnoxious and too cocky for your own liking.
You missed when he was sweet and genuine. Not the popular boy that has become a staple at Hogwarts.
Sirius on the other hand, genuinely did want you. But no other tactic had gotten him a date. The rumors were misconstrued and he put on a cocky front. But in reality he was just as shy and dorky as he used to be.
One night after a hogsmeade trip, you were reading in the Gryffindor common room. It was a nice quiet night by the fire place. But all of a sudden, Sirius showed up, sat in an arm chair near you and started playing with wizarding cards.
“Could you keep that down?” You asked him, looking up from your book.
You expected a witty and cocky calculated response, but instead Sirius looked flushed. He ran a hand through this shiny hair and nodded, a little shy.
He gave up on impressing you and being so boastful. What did he have to lose? “Yeah sure, sorry.” He replied.
Sirius’ response continued to surprise you. Where were his annoyingly witty comments and jokes? Why wasn’t he flirting?
“Are you okay?” You asked, now a little confused.
“Yeah I’m fine,” he replied, lookin over at you. In his mind you looked so beautiful sitting by the fire. “Urm—actually I wanted to apologize. For making you so upset. I just think you’re really pretty an all. But I’m taking the hint and I’ll stop.”
He sounded so sweet about it and vulnerable. This was the Sirius you liked. The genuine one.
You smiled softly, “Thank you for the apology Sirius. I appreciate it. But you really think I’m pretty?” You asked.
He nodded, continuing to be sincere in his response. “Yeah, could never take my eyes off you love?” He said. It was straightforward and flirty but absolutely adorable and dorky.
You blushed. Why couldn’t be t he like this all the time?
“I like you like this.” You said, with a small smile. Sirius flushed.
“Y-you-u do?” He asked, a little surprised. This was the first time you’d shown him affection.
“Yeah. I mean when you aren’t being so boastful and cocky around me. I like the genuine you, Sirius.” You said.
With that, he sat up and walked over to the couch. He sat next you and both were facing each other.
“Sooo, I guess what you’re saying is???” He teased. You lightly pushed him and laughed.
“I’m saying if you tried to ask me out in a less boastful way. I would say yes.” You explained, blushing.
Sirius felt like he’d won the jackpot. “Really?! Uh I mean oh that’s cool.” He said, earning another giggle out of you.
“Y/n, will you go out with me?” He asked, sincerely.
You nodded, “Yes Sirius, I will.”
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exhaslo · 5 months
Text
Kinktober Day 20- Roommate!Miguel x Reader
*Requested by Reader ;) *
        It was your third year of college and you had decided to get one of the dorm houses right next to the college. Finally! No more small apartment in a large dorm hall; no more random fire alarms because someone didn't know how long to cook popcorn; no more being locked out of your dorm room because you were in a shared bathroom; and finally, no more loud and obnoxious roommates. Having this house meant that you picked your roommate. You had your freedom.
        What better than a roommate who is going to have their heads stuck in the books or at the library? You interviewed so many people, but only one caught your attention as the perfect roommate. 
Miguel O'Hara
         The man was not only eye candy, but one of the smartest students on campus. Correction, he was the smartest student. You were surprised when he was in the hunt for a roommate. The two of you got along and you decided to go with him. All you ever heard about him was either girls wanting to fuck him, or that he was a hardass who kept his head in the books. A perfect roommate.
         Things were going smoothly for the first few months. You barely saw him due to your conflicting schedules, but he kept his part of the house clean. There was never any loud noise from his room, nor was there any reason to complain. The only little issue you were having was that he was too fucking sexy.
        Lord did the impure thoughts start when you saw him exit the shower one day. You swore drool was coming out of your mouth as you stared at him. You would have never thought that Miguel was so fit. No wonder why all the girls on campus wanted to date him. The man had a body of a god!
"Perhaps I should charge a fee," Miguel said, waking you from your trance. Your face was flustered,
"Sorry! I was just surprised!" You admitted, hiding your embarrassment. 
"Surprised it took you long enough to know why I like to hide here instead of the library?" You could have sworn you saw a smirk on his face, "Midterms are coming up. Let me know if you need help...studying."
        Oh man, you were embarrassed. Since then, Miguel had gotten a little more snarky with you. In a playful manner. Honestly, it felt like he was pulling st your heart strings. The man was smart, hot and a menace to your thoughts. You were ashamed to say that you had thought about your roommate a lot at night as you played with yourself.
        You weren't the only one. Miguel was pumping his dick in his hand every night to the thought of you under him. You were pretty dangerous to be around. Walking around in your underwear and a shirt; laying on the couch; hell, Miguel was even aroused by you cooking dinner. In his eyes, you were already his. He just hadn't sealed the deal yet.
"Argh, I hate men!" You cried out, planting your face onto the couch. Miguel was sitting on the side chair,
"Including me?" He asked, not straying away from his essay. You huffed, face him,
"No..."
"Good, now who do I have to beat up for annoying my precious roommate?"
"Hahaaa, just one of my classmates. We were doing a project and he had the gall to tell me I had no idea what I'm doing. I fucking major in the subject!"
       As you were venting, Miguel was staring at you. He found it cute how red your cheeks got when you were angry. How tight your clothes were against your body. Miguel wanted to see you strip. To get lazy and comfy. It was something only for his eyes to see. He moved his laptop over his bulge, wanting to hide the fact that he was getting turned on from just staring at you.
"And then he had the absolute nerve after all that to ask me out! Like, why would I want to date a rude snob like him?! After I said hell no, he called me a bitch and went to shit talk me to his friends!" You whimpered, tears threatening to spill. 
        Miguel immediately went to your aid. He brought you a box of tissues, sitting beside you now. You rested your head against his shoulder, trying your best to not cry.
"I can beat him up for you, amor. (love). You can do so much better."
"Haha, thanks Miguel."
---------------
          After that, you went back to your hard studies since Finals were around the corner. That boy who had bothered you prior stopped bothering you completely. In fact, he avoided you. It was strange, but you were happy about it. All you needed was to pass your classes. Miguel helped you study for midterms, perhaps he was willing to help you again for finals?
        You were sitting in your shared living room, waiting for Miguel's class to get out. You were getting frustrated from trying to figure out stuff from another class. Glancing at the time, you inhaled deeply. There was still plenty of time before Miguel came home, you could use a little destress. Laying against the couch, you spread your legs and began to rub your clit was massaging you breast.
"Mhm, Miguel," You closed your eyes, imaging that it was Miguel toying with your body.
        Raising your hips, you started to feverishly rub your clit. Whines coming out as you desperately wanted Miguel to touch you. You lowered your fingers to your aching hole, doing your best to finger yourself.
"Miguel!" You whined.
"Fuck," Miguel groaned as he walked through the door. You gasped loudly, fixing yourself, 
"M-Miguel!? Y-Your c-class-?!" You panicked. Miguel hurried to your side,
"Don't you fucking stop now." He groaned, his hands making haste into your shorts, "Fuck, hearing your moans when I walk in. Cómo puedo contenerme? (How can I hold myself back?)"
       You gasped as Miguel had you pinned to the couch. His hands quickly replaced yours and he entered two digits into your wet cunt. You moaned, arching your back into the couch as he pumped his fingers roughly. Your pussy clentching down against his hand whike your hips moved against his palm. His fingers were so thick, bigger than some of your toys. He was already stretching you out.
"Hah, ah, M-Miguel..." You whimpered a moan as he curled his fingers. Miguel licked his lips,
"Qué hermoso. Tu cuerpo se está desmoronando por mi culpa. (How beautiful. Your body just falling apart because of me.)" You trembled as you reached your first orgasm, "What a naughty roommate. Teasing me so much."
        You panted heavily, never experience an orgasm like that before. You followed Miguel's gaze, watching him undo his pants as he licked his fingers. His pupils almost looked blown once he had a taste of you. It made you wetter. Finally, all of those wet dreams you've had of fucking your roommate was about to come true. Miguel cussed lowly as his belt got in the way.
"I never seen you this stressed," You teased, helping him undo his pants, "How long have you been wanting this?"
"Why do you think I became your roommate?" Miguel watched your reaction towards his large dick, "You?"
"Before midterms,"
        You stroked his dick with both hands. His low rumbling groans were turning you on more. You brought your lips to his tip, licking the precum that had started to drip. You winced at the salty taste but continued to suck him. Miguel's hand rested on your head as you bobbed your head against him. It was difficult and you could not take him fully, but Miguel seemed to enjoy it. Tears formed from the corner of your eyes as Miguel forced your head lower.
        Muffling against his dick, Miguel stopped, allowing you to breathe. You crawled over his lap, positioning his dick over your soaked hole. Miguel held your hips and placed you on your back before entering. The two of you moaned in unison. Miguel held your legs up as he stretched you out. Miguel was destroying your pussy and he hadn't even moved yet. You gripped the couch's blanket, raising your hips as he kept pushing himself inside.
"Looks like you need help with your finals," Miguel groaned, watching your pussy suck his dick as he finally fit his whole length, "Let me start by teaching this naughty pussy a lesson."
"Mhm, p-please," You begged. Miguel pulled back then slapped his length into you with force, "Ah~!" You cried out.
"Qué compañera de cuarto más cachonda. ¿A punto de romperse después de un solo empujón de mi polla? Tu coño fue hecho solo para mí. Mira lo mojada que estás, sólo para mí. (What a slutty roommate. About to break after just one thrust of my dick? Your pussy was made just for me. Look at how wet you are, just for me.)"
"M-Miguel!" 
        You gasped for air as he fucked your brains out. Each thrust was bringing your orgasm closer and closer. Miguel grabbed your breasts, playing with them as he sucked on your collarbone. His dick pounding you relentlessly. He had his body pinned against you like an animal in heat, refusing to let you go. You wrapped your arms around his neck, moaning into his ear as you reached another orgasm. Miguel shivered in delight and decided to reward you. He slammed his cock a few more times, filling your womb with his cum.
"Looks like you're going to need a lot more lessons, cariño (sweetheart). But don't worry, I won't charge my dear roommate."
"Y-You better not." You huffed. Miguel smirked as he gave you another slap of his dick, "W-Wait~ Mhm, d-don't...d-do that." Your whines turned into moans as Miguel kept abusing your poor cunt.
"After waiting this long, you really don't think I'm not going to fuck you dumb? Gotta make sure I keep tutoring you."
"Hah, hah, y-yes," You replied, throwing your head back in pleasure.
        You did not care how many times you needed to ask Miguel for help. You knew that he would tutor you seriously. It was your payment that you really looked forward too. Anytime either of you were stressed, you two had some of the best sex. When it was time to renew your lease for the house, both you and Miguel did not hesitate to agree. Miguel was the perfect roommate. Perfect boyfriend. You were not letting go of him, and neither was he of you.
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faebaex · 7 months
Text
Accidentally Courting an Eel Ⅰ
author note: oooops I was supposed to post this days ago but then it somehow ended up being almost 5k words?? And this is only part 1?? Sorry sorry, I hope you enjoy it! A lot of chaos here, the only one who shows any kind of sense is Ruggie, we love you king! also many character cameos as well! i hope i did them justice
warnings: Cursing, violence, reader is quite a feisty and angry person tbh
characters: Floyd Leech x F!Reader
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Your world had been turned upside down when you had returned from summer break. Intent to start your second year, you instead went to your first day of the semester only to find out that your mage school was closing and being absorbed by another school. In a whirlwind, you found yourself in the prestigious Night Raven College opening ceremony, being placed in a dormitory posthaste (you found yourself sorted into Heartslabyul, your new housewarden seemed absolutely unhinged) and then expected to continue in as normal. You had no idea why your academy closed, or why such a prestigious college was so willing to absorb an indie mage academy with a small student cohort and an obscure reputation, and those questions were never answered. Life just kind of… Went on.
Whilst the arrival of new students at the start of a new academic year wasn’t strange, it was entirely unusual to receive sophomore and senior students with the incoming batch of freshmen, so there was a lot of excitement that followed the first couple of weeks that you and the rest of your previous cohort had at Night Raven College. Lots of eyes on you, sizing you up and trying to get an idea of what you were worth… And for you, that meant a few fights.
You were known in your previous academy as being quite fiery, not hesitating to throw hands if you needed to, despite being on the shorter side compared to your peers. You were a scrapper, and a dirty one at that, more than willing to bite, scratch and pull hair if it meant that you could get the upper hand. It had gotten to the point that you began wearing shorts underneath your skirt, so that you had more freedom of movement if you needed to kick someone where the sun didn’t shine. You had the most spats with the Savanaclaw dorm, growing sick of being shoulder bumped and generally harassed by the predominantly beastman dorm. After the first couple of fights and during your next, you’d found yourself thrown over the shoulder of the Savanaclaw housewarden, Kingscholar, and extracted from the situation. You received a rather stern lecture on how you needed to stop getting into fights with his boys (which you gave him a few choice words right back) but after that, you seemed to find yourself getting bothered a lot less by the Savanaclaw students. And to be honest, a lecture from Kingscholar was miles more bearable than a lecture from housewarden Rosehearts. There were only so many apology essays you could write, after all.
After a few weeks, the novelty of having new students wore off and you were able to carry on with your school life without much issue. Sure, you got into a few fights here and there occasionally, but nothing too major, enough for you to skate under the detection of housewarden Rosehearts. After all, nothing was worse than sitting through a Rosehearts lecture. Weeks blended into months, and soon you were far into your first semester, and had rather gotten used to life at Night Raven College. You’d even managed to build some sort of rapport with your housewarden, who was less on your back now that your constant fighting had calmed down.
You found yourself sighing as you made your way to the potions lab, leafing through your notes on the way. Professor Crewel had set up and assignment and paired everyone off and to be honest, the assignment had been a complete nightmare. Together, you and your partner were supposed to brew an energy boosting potion, but you had to figure out the ingredients and brewing method with only a few hints and clues along the way. Crewel refused to give further instruction apart from surveying the ingredients selected by students, to ensure no dangerous mishaps could occur, stating with a slap of his whip that the whole point of the assignment was for students to study the potion and ingredients available to them to create the potion. Unfortunately for you, your partner for this assignment didn’t have the best grade in potionology, and considering that this assignment was graded, anything short of a good pass would have housewarden Rosehearts chasing you around the dorm demanding an explanation. Thankfully, you seemed close to finishing the assignment, the ginger root you required as your last ingredient finally having finished distilling. You were on your way to the potion lab after classes now to meet with your partner to finish brewing the potion and finally be free of the assignment that had been weighing around your neck for the last few weeks.
Or so you thought.
When you entered the lab, your lab partner was waiting there as expected, but you knew at first glance that something was up. The closer you got to him, the paler you noticed his face was, and you couldn’t help raising your brow as you stopped beside him. “What’s up?” You queried, placing your notes on the desk and putting down your bag by your chair. A few other students were milling around the potions lab, trying to finish their own assignments, one of them being Ruggie, a Savanaclaw student you usually saw running around after Kingscholar. He looked rather sheepish, his ears twitching as he stared hard at his own assignment. Your eyes fell back to your lab partner, who still looked like he would rather sink through the floor than be in the lab at that moment. “Well? Are you ready to finish the assignment? The ginger root should have distilled now so all we need to do is brew—”
“Um… About the ginger root…” Your lab partner began in a small voice, and you could see sweat beginning to bead on his forehead, “I think we are going to have to distil it again…” You blinked and stared blankly at your lab partner, as if he had suddenly grown an extra limb. “Distil it again? It took us 2 days to distil the first vial! What happened to the one we distilled?” You asked, frustration clear in your tone and mounting fast. If your lab partner wanted to sink through the floor before, now he wanted the ground to just open and swallow him whole. His eyes darted around nervously and he leaned forwards, closing the gap between you so he could whisper to you, “someone… Took it.”
You stared incredulously at him, “do you know who?” Your partner nodded; his eyes glued to the floor. “Then just take it back!” You hissed, at a loss at why your lab partner didn’t just retrieve your ginger root and resolve the situation, but his eyes shot up at your words and he looked terrified at the suggestion. “N-no way!” He stuttered, his face somehow becoming paler, “look, lets just wait a few days. I’ll distil another vial, I’ll do all the work—”
“Who took it?” You demanded flatly.
“Just forget about it, we still have time—”
“Who. Took. It.” You repeated sharply, your eyes narrowing into a glare on your lab partner. He swallowed thickly, and he discreetly nodded his head in the direction of the culprit. Your eyes left your lab partner and settled on the culprit, and you crossed your arms over your chest. “Look,” your lab partner started, moving to put a hand on your arm, “Just leave it, whatever you’re thinking, it’s not a good idea—”
“Wait here.”
You brushed off your lab partner’s hand as you began walking over to the culprit, who had his back to you as he leafed through the ingredients in the potionology inventory. He was tall, towering over you even when you weren’t that close to him yet, with teal coloured hair and roughly put together uniform. You could spy what you assumed to be your vial of ginger root tucked into the crook of his hand as he thumbed through the rest of the jars and bottles on the shelf, clearly looking for ingredients to complete his own assignment. And apparently, he had decided that your ginger root was his for the taking.
“Oi. Give back my ginger root.” You demanded, glaring at the back of the culprit’s head.
“Ahh~? Get lost, guppy. I’m workin’ here.” The culprit drawled back, not even bothering to look back at you as he continued to flip through ingredients, not a care in the world.
“Yeah? Well, you’ll be working on your ass if you don’t give me back my ginger root.” You retorted, folding your arms across your chest as you continued to glare. That seemed to get his attention, as he turned around to face you. His eyes seemed to light up when he caught sight of you, a wild grin spreading across his lips, showcasing his freakishly sharp teeth. Yikes.
“Ahaa~ You’re real tiny, little guppy. Hey, why don’t you come get your ginger root back?” He challenged, a glint in his eyes that immediately told you that this guy was going to mess with you. You tried to reach for the vial, but he quickly snatched it away, dangling it high in the air over your head with a spiteful grin. “Ah, ah, ah guppy, you’ll have to try harder than that. C’mon, jump for it.”
You clicked your tongue, feeling your blood boiling at his attitude. You stood on the tips of your toes, and even then, you were barely closer to his face. “None of us will have ginger root when I shove that vial so far down your throat no one will have to hear your annoying voice again.” You hissed at him lowly, your lips twisted up in an annoyed snarl. All amusement and mocking sank out of his face as his own face darkened, his pupils shrinking as he now began to glare at you. “You got alotta nerve, guppy. Who do you think you’re talking to?”
The two of you glared at each other, and he leaned forward with menacing intent, “Maybe I should do you a favour and squeeze some sense into ya.” He said, all previous drawl lost from his tone as he threatened you now. You scoffed, having had more than enough of this guy. You quickly reached forward and yanked that stupid black lock of hair that hung down his face, catching him by surprise and using that opportunity to push him back, making him collide into the ingredients shelf, the jars and vials rattling precariously from the impact. You tried to reach for vial of ginger root, that now also balanced dangerously in his hand, but before you could reach it, his arms suddenly locked around your middle, lifting you off the ground and squeezing. You felt your ribs begin to protest as he crushed you, and you hissed in pain, your legs kicking violently at whatever you could in an attempt to get free. You could vaguely hear the sound of smashing glass, but you couldn’t focus on that. Now when he was staring down at you, a smug smile spreading across his lips as he watched you struggle. It made you seethe. You twisted and kicked, and somehow managed to free your left arm. Striking before he could restrain you again, you took your chance and seized hold of his earring and yanked. You heard him grunt as the earring came away in your hand, but it still wasn’t enough for him to let you go, so you turned your head and sank your teeth into his arm. He froze when you did that, his hands slackening enough that you slipped out of his grasp altogether, your feet hitting the floor quicker than you expected, almost making you fall backwards. You steadied yourself, readying a follow up attack when he was still stunned frozen after you bit him, only to feel yourself yanked backwards at the waist and thrown over someone’s shoulder, moving at such a nimble speed that the ginger root stealing culprit was soon leaving your sight as you were whisked out of the potions lab.
“Put me down!” You seethed, trying to lean up in your captor’s grasp, your hand pressing into their shoulder. “Ruggie?! What do you think you’re doing? Put me down right now!” Ruggie ignored your complaints, running through the corridor with surprising ease despite you being on his shoulder, zipping through winding corridors like this wasn’t his first time.
“No can do. If Leona found out you’d been fighting again and I was there and didn’t do anything, he’d have my tail.” Ruggie grumbled, his ears going flat at the thought, “and with Floyd Leech of all people! I mean this respectfully but, Y/N are you nuts? You gotta have a death wish.” Ruggie continued to spout off about how you had not perception of threat or danger, just throwing your hands left, right and centre without any care for who you were dealing with. You scrunched up your face, a lecture from Ruggie not on your bingo card for the year, that’s for sure.
“Who is Floyd Leech?” You grumbled sourly, starting to feel a little dizzy from a combination of the blood rushing to your head and how quickly Ruggie sped through the corridors. Ruggie shook his head, glancing up at you incredulously. “Floyd Leech is the guy you just rammed into the potions inventory, and probably in every student in this school’s top 10 guys not to mess with ranking. High up too, I imagine.” Ruggie commented dryly, his speed slowing to a slow jog as he seemed to near to the destination you had in mind. “Crewel is going to kill you by the way, if Floyd doesn’t first. You absolutely totalled his potionology inventory for that lab.”
You groaned at that, the consequences of your actions starting to rear their ugly head. Either way, housewarden Rosehearts would have your head, if there was anything left of it after Crewel was done with you. You didn’t get a chance to wallow, as Ruggie slowed to a stop and gently lowered you off of his shoulder. You looked around, only to notice you were standing outside of the infirmary. “Why did you bring me here? I’m fine.” You questioned, only for Ruggie to give you another stunned look, his tail flickering anxiously behind him.
“What? Y/N… Uh… Your legs are kinda…” Ruggie trailed off and you looked down, your eyes widening as you saw an array of cuts down your bare legs, dripping blood down to your socks. “Oh… Oops.” You muttered, looking a little sheepish. Ruggie scratched behind his ear, looking slightly awkward himself. “Yeah… You should probably get those checked out…”
You sighed as you turned to the infirmary door, a small grimace on your lips. “Thanks, Ruggie… Feel free to tell housewarden Kingscholar that you saved the day.” That seemed to brighten the mood a little bit, Ruggie’s characteristic smile starting to come back to his face. “You bet I will, shishishi…” With that, he scurried off, leaving you to enter the infirmary alone. As you were about to push the door open, you noticed the something in your hand, opening it to reveal a teal earring clutched in your fist. You sighed again, having completely forgotten in the heat of the moment that you’d torn that out of Floyd’s ear. Not knowing how to deal with it, you slid it into your skirt pocket and entered the infirmary.
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You sighed as you trudged back to your dorm room, rubbing your head with a tired expression. You’d barely finished having the cuts on your legs checked for glass and cleaned when Professor Crewel had come marching into the infirmary to tear you a new one. You swear your ears were still ringing from the crack of his whip, knowing you’d be hearing it in your nightmares for the next couple of days at the least. You’d been instructed to attend the potionology lab after classes tomorrow to clean up the mess you’d made, and for whatever other punishment Crewel deemed necessary for however many days he deemed. You fully expected to get chewed out by Crewel even more tomorrow when you attended your detention, but that was something to dread tomorrow.
You’d survived your encounter with Floyd Leech largely unharmed, luckily the cuts on your legs not having any glass stuck in them and shallow enough that they’d likely heal in a couple of days, easily bandaged up to keep them clean. Your ribs, however, were bruised and hurt like a bitch, but again, it could have been worse. Surprisingly, another thing that could be worse was the reaction from Housewarden Riddle once you had gotten back to the dorm. He was waiting for you by the doors to be dorm, and you expected to lose your head immediately. Instead, you sat through a two-and-a-half-hour lecture about how unacceptable your behaviour was and how he expected you to apologise to Crewel sincerely posthaste, as well as demanding you write a 2000 word apology essay. But oddly enough, Riddle seemed more irked that it was Floyd Leech that you had gotten into a fight with, warning you to keep clear of him if you valued your education.
Floyd Leech this, Floyd leech that. All everyone talked about was Floyd damn Leech, like he was some sort of terror on campus. Although you had to admit, if he managed to even rile Riddle up to that extent, maybe there was something about him.
Either way, you didn’t really care. The adrenaline from the fight had worn off an hour ago, and you were beyond exhausted. You pushed open the door to your dorm room and flopped face down onto your bed, ready to pass out into oblivion, only to feel a stabbing pain in your thigh. You groaned dramatically and rolled onto your back, patting at the bed to try and find the source of your irritation. Finding nothing, you patted at your thigh, slipping your hand into your pocket and feeling something jingle. With a quizzical hum, you pulled out a set of teal jewels, squinting at it in confusion, before it finally clicked.
Floyd Leech’s earring.
You held it up to the light, watching the light shine off of the three jewels that dangled from the simple golden stud. It was quite pretty, actually. As you continue to gaze at the earring as it dangled between your fingers, you noticed that the chain that attached the teal jewels to the stud were slightly damaged. You sat up, bringing the earring closer to your face to inspect it. Huh, it must have gotten damaged when you had pulled it out of Floyd’s ear… You turned the earring around in your hand, giving it another look over whilst you mulled over what you should do. Standing, you made your way to your desk, turning on the desk lamp and laying the earring carefully on the desk, you got to work…
“I don’t want to see a single shard of glass on that floor. Do you understand, pup?”
“Yes sir.” You muttered dejectedly, beginning to sweep up the mounds of glass that littered the battered potions inventory. You had to admit, you and Floyd had done a number on it, the floor chaotic with smashed glass and spilt ingredients, plant leaves mushed together from being trodden underfoot and staining the tiles of the lab. You sighed quietly under your breath, knowing that it was going to take a long time to clean all of this up.
As you cleaned, your eyes kept flickering to the door. You weren’t the only one who was supposed to be cleaning up this mess. Floyd was supposed to be here too. However, he had yet to turn up, so the lion’s share of the work was currently left to you. Crewel sat at his desk, grading alchemy papers whilst keeping an eye on your progress, probably to heckle you if your progress slowed. Your ribs still throbbed dully, protesting every time you bent at the waist to retrieve a particularly hefty chunk of glass, Crewel peering over at you occasionally to make sure you didn’t cut yourself any more than you already were. You could only hope you could get this done quickly so you could leave.
After what felt like hours, you had finally cleaned all the glass and ingredients off the floor, the process taking longer than you anticipated after Crewel insisted that you disposed of the spoiled ingredients properly, and then scolding you for yipping and giving you an impromptu lecture on correct ingredient disposal methods. You were about to pull of your gloves when Crewel once again appeared in front of you, a large cardboard box in his arms that he placed on a nearby desk.
“You’re not finished yet, pup. I expect you to arrange the new ingredients onto the shelves in proper order.” Crewel instructed, and you felt yourself grimace before you could stop yourself.
“Do I have to? Can’t Floyd do it? I cleaned up the entire floor!” You complained, deciding to push your luck anyway. Crewel looked around the room, an eyebrow raised before his eyes fell back on you.
“Do you see Leech anywhere?” Crewel said, and you could tell by his tone that you’d already lost. Why did he have to be so sassy?!
“… No.” You mumbled, cringing as you heard the thwapping of Crewel’s whip against his gloved palm.
“Exactly, now get to work. You can go once I approve the finished inventory.” Crewel ordered, making his way back to his desk whilst you rummaged through the cardboard box of fresh ingredients, a hard done by pout on your face. “Yes sir…”
“Good girl.”
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Your entire body felt stiff the next morning, your joints cracking as you stretched with a groan. Floyd had never turned up in the end, leaving you to clean up the entire inventory and restock it, which was no easy task with Crewel’s finicky tastes. It took numerous attempts and lectures on the importance of ingredient storage before Crewel was finally happy enough to grant you freedom, only to miserably crush your spirit by informing you that he expected you to attend to the regrowth of replacement ingredients in the botanical garden for the next 3 days. Lucky you.
The only saving grace was that your initial sentence in the botanical garden had been reduced as a result of Floyd not turning up at all when you were supposed to clean the potionology lab. By the sound of it, Crewel was going to be ensuring that he served his detention in the botanical garden.
You found yourself slightly irritated that Floyd hadn’t turned up to your joint detention. Not only because it meant you had to spend hours cleaning up a mess that arguably wasn’t entirely your fault, but also because you had planned to give him back his earring. You had stayed up late into the night fixing the earring, fairly satisfied with yourself for making it look as good as new. You planned to hunt him down today to give it back to him, no matter what, if only because walking around with it in your pocket made you feel like it was going to inevitably get broken again.
Your fight with Floyd had spread around campus like wildfire, and you had people you didn’t even know commenting on how hardcore you were for going up against Floyd Leech without batting an eyelid. You’d also heard that since the fight, Floyd had been in a foul mood, and it was fifty fifty between students complimenting you and blaming you for being the unfortunate victim of Floyd’s new vile mood.
Either way, Floyd’s mood was not enough to deter you from finding him to return his earring. However, you couldn’t find him in the morning on the way to classes, and you didn’t see him at lunch either. You were wondering if you were going to have to go all the way to the Octavinelle dorm after classes, not really looking forward to that thought and beginning to think about whether this was all really worth it. Maybe you should just flag down a random Octavinelle student and give them the earring and just hope it made its way back to Floyd.
As you were pondering as you walked to your club, you saw a flash of teal at the end of the corridor, looking up quickly to see the retreating figures of a light grey-haired student along with two taller, teal haired students, one with a pretty unmistakable slouch with his hands in his pockets. A-ha!
“Oi! Floyd Leech!” You called, starting to break out into a light jog in case he didn’t stop and turn around. Luck was somewhat on your side, as all three of the students stopped and turned their attention to you, and you vaguely recognised one as the housewarden for Octavinelle. He was currently eyeing you up, meanwhile the teal haired student who wasn’t Floyd was giving you a smile that, whilst coming off polite at face value, reeked of mocking. You ignored them both, slowing to a stop in front of Floyd and boy, the other students were right. He looked like he was in a terrible mood, his eyes narrowed on you like he was about to start another fight.
“What do you want, guppy? I’m busy.” He drawled; his eyebrows furrowed as he frowned down at you. You scoffed at that, shooting your own frown back at him reproachfully. “I was really busy yesterday when someone didn’t turn up to their detention and I had to clean and rearrange the entire potionology inventory by myself.” You shot back at him, narrowing your eyes at him and watching him just stare back at you disinterestedly.
“Anyway, that’s not why I’m here. Here.” You fished into your pocket carefully and brought out the teal earring, dangling it carefully between your fingers. If you weren’t so distracted trying to get the earring out of your skirt pocket as gently as possible, you would have seen the flicker of surprise that went across Jade’s expression, or how Azul pushed up his glasses in an attempt to mask his own surprise. “I didn’t realise I still had it on me when I left the potions lab, to be honest. It got a little damaged during the fight, but I managed to fix it so good I bet you can’t even notice!” You weren’t even aware of the proud little beam that was on your face as you spoke of your repair job, or how all three of them stared at you in a veiled mix of surprise, confusion, and awe.
You held the earring out to Floyd for him to take, which he did, all previous traces of irritation washed from his face now as he held his earring in his palm. A silence had fell between you and considering that the situation was already awkward enough as it is, you decided to excuse yourself. “Well, that was all I wanted. I’ll be leaving.” You didn’t wait for any of them to respond, and none of them did as you walked past them and continued on your way to your club activities.
So happy you were to finally have that interaction over with and not have to worry about re-damaging the delicate earring that had made its home in your pocket over the last couple of days, you didn’t notice how Floyd Leech stared wistfully at your retreating back, said earring cradled carefully in his bare palm…
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moonstruckme · 7 months
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the boys w a reader who's very physically affectionate? pre-relationship >:)
like none of them are dating yet, and she'd hug and kiss them on the cheeks, hold their hands on the way to class, carry their books/bags for them and lean on them in the common room and all three of them are flustered by it. bonus points if reader doesn't even know she does it, it's just how she is, and when they point it out she's like "oh.. i'll stop, sorry" and they're like "NONONONO" THEY'D BE SO CUTE
Yesssss thanks for requesting my love!
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
You insist on carrying Remus’ book bag to Hogsmeade for him, and he glares at James the whole way for letting slip that his shoulders have been aching all day. 
“Let me take that,” James offers for the upteenth time, ignoring Remus’ muttered “Yeah, let ‘im.” 
“I’ve got it, Jamie,” you say again, wobbling a bit under the weight of Remus’ books, far more plentiful than what you’d packed for the study session. “We’re here anyway.”
“C’mon, doll, let’s get you a butterbeer to warm up, yeah?” Sirius opens the door to The Three Broomsticks. “I’m sure Remus will buy.” 
Remus rolls his eyes. “I’ll buy Y/N one, not either of you.” 
“Spoilsport.” Sirius slides into an empty booth, and you set your load down beside him, turning around and pushing up on your tiptoes to give Remus a kiss on the cheek. 
“Thanks,” you say sweetly, and Remus isn’t a very affectionate person, but he’s hardly easily flustered either. So when his cheeks turn bright pink as soon as you’re not looking anymore, James can’t help but grin. 
“Sit by me, sweetheart,” Sirius says, setting his arm atop the booth. James thinks he views your flirting as a sort of contest, seeing who will go the farthest before someone needs to tap out. But if it’s a competition, it’s one Sirius is destined to lose. 
You slide agreeably in beside him, slipping under Sirius’ arm so readily that it drops from the booth in surprise, landing with a dull thump at your side. “Merlin, it’s cold in here,” you say, nestling close. “You think they keep it that way so you’ll buy more butterbeer?”
Sirius’ voice is pitchy and breathless. “Mm—probably.” 
James smirks at him, sliding into the safe zone across from the two of you. 
You take Sirius’ hand in both of yours, frowning and rubbing at it. “See, your hand is freezing! This is ridiculous.” 
Remus reappears with four pitchers, grinning knowingly at the shell-shocked look on Sirius’ face. “I’ll be expecting the two of you to pay me back,” he says to James and Sirius, setting them down and beginning to dig through his book bag. “Merlin, if I can finish Slughorn’s essay while we're here it’ll be a miracle.”
James blows gently on his butterbeer, trying not to watch too closely as you purse your lips to do the same. “Have you started on that already?” he asks.
Remus shakes his head, exasperated but familiar with James’ ways. “It’s due tomorrow, Prongs. You won’t be able to do it in the hour before class, trust me.” 
“Wait, the one on boggarts?” you ask, opening your own bag. Remus nods, and you hold up a small stack of parchment, beaming. “I finished this morning. Wanna see?”
“That'd be great,” Remus says. “What I really can’t figure out is the part…about…” he appears to lose his train of thought as, instead of passing the papers across the table, you disappear under it, re-emerging a second later to squeeze between James and Remus in their seat. 
“I know what you mean,” you say, as though this is all very commonplace, pressed shoulder-to-shoulder and hip-to-hip with the both of them. “The second part of the question is near impossible to understand, but I think I may have figured it out. Here, see…” James stops hearing the conversation as you duck down towards your work, your hair tickling his arm and your jumper riding up to reveal the small of your back. James’ eyes follow the curve of your spine, down, down, until—he feels like a total perv, and looks away. 
Across the booth, Sirius is looking simultaneously relieved to have a break from your brazen affection and regretful that you’re not still there with him. He watches you as you speak in low tones with Remus, his eyes flicking upwards to James as if to say this is insane, right?. James nods back dazedly. 
You finish whatever you’ve been explaining to Remus, hauling your butterbeer across the table to sip at it. “Jamie, do you want my jumper?”
He nearly chokes. “Hm?”
You look up at him with concerned eyes. “I can feel you shivering. It might be a bit small on you, but it could help.” 
James is cold, but watching you take off that jumper, smelling you on it, would be too much. He forces a smile, taking a sip of his warm butterbeer instead. “Thanks, but I’m alright.” 
You frown at him, setting your hand atop his on the table. “You sure, honey? I don’t mind. I’m feeling a bit hot, actually.” 
Whatever the look on James' face, it’s enough to make Sirius guffaw. Loudly. Even Remus snickers, tucking his tongue into his cheek. 
“What?” You look at them. “What’s funny?”
“Doll, you’ve killed him,” Sirius laughs, and James doesn’t feel so chilly anymore, all his blood rushing to his face. 
Your brows scrunch together worriedly. “What do you mean?” 
Remus chuckles, the only one of them kind enough to give you an explanation. “I think what he’s saying is, even James has a threshold for flirting. You’ve just flustered him. Don’t worry, he’ll recover.” 
“I…what?”
“C’mon,” Sirius says, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, “all the touching, the hugs, the pet names? A man can only take so much.”
“Oh, Merlin, I’m so sorry!” You clap a hand over your mouth, eyes wide with horror. “I didn’t realize—I’m just a naturally affectionate person, but I didn’t mean to flirt—well, I don’t not want to flirt with you all, but I wasn’t doing it on purpose. I’ll stop, I’m sorry.” 
Sirius blinks. “Don’t stop,” he protests. “That’s not what I meant.” 
Your confusion returns. “No?”
“No,” Remus says, some of the color from earlier returning to his cheeks. “I mean, it’s nice.” 
James nods, finding his voice again. “Flirt with us all you like, but, um…would it be alright if we flirted back?”
Your smile comes like a sunrise, slow and brilliant and beautiful. “Yeah, I’d like that.” 
Sirius grins at you, bravado restored. “Good, because we need to even the playing field, dollface. Come back over here, I’m cold.”
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lackadaisycats · 1 year
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I tried to answer this succinctly, but it turned into an essay. (Sorry.)
The Princess and the Frog was not accurate, strictly speaking, but dinging it for that would be like criticizing the Lion King for not being a realistic wildlife documentary. Accuracy wasn't really the point. Given the fantastical elements and fictional nations like “Maldonia”, I suppose we're meant to understand this as a bit removed from the real New Orleans. It's more a a jazz-flavored fairy tale than a historical fiction.
But for discussion's sake....
Is it fashion-accurate to its 1926 timeframe? Ehhh, sort of. It pays homage to 20s fashion trends with cloche hats, furs and feathery headpieces, but without fully committing to it. The waistline on almost all of Tiana's clothing is too high for the 20s, and the the shapes of her fancier costumes take a lot of liberties, or deviate wildly from the style of the period.
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In the 20s, dresses (including workaday stuff) tended to have a straight up-and-down shape to it - kind of a low-waisted rectangle that de-emphasized curves instead of highlighting them. There are valid reasons to play fast and loose with that, though (something I’m definitely guilty of as well). One of those reasons is communication. 
For instance, speculatively, the filmmakers wrote Tiana as a hard-working waitress and wanted her to look the part, so they made the choice to clothe her in something familiar - that gingham dress of mid-century shape that we broadly associate with diner waitresses. Actual waitress uniforms of the 20s had a fair bit of overlap with maid uniforms at the time too, and I can see why they wouldn't want to risk the confusion. It's more important to communicate clearly with the larger audience than to appease a small faction of fashion nerds who'd notice or care about the precision.
I don't think it's a case of the designers failing to do their research - I'm sure they had piles of references, and maybe even consultants - but they also had to have priorities.
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With her hat and coat on, she looks a lot more 1920s-shaped.
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Pretty consistently, the indication of the characteristic 1920s drop waist is there, but the approach otherwise ignores the 20s silhouette. The clothes hug the body too much. This may be about appealing to a 2000s audience, visually speaking, but also could be an animation thing. Maybe both. For practical reasons, clothes in 2d animation are usually more a sort of second skin than something that wears or behaves like realistic fabric.
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These are not in the 1920s ballpark at all. Tiana's blue gown looks like your basic Disney brand invention. Strapless things would have been extremely unusual and the overall shape is far out of step. Excusable, I guess, because it's a costume in context. Charlotte looks like she’s heading for a mimosa brunch in a modern maxi dress.
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Charlotte's princess dress did seem to be calling back to the ultra-wide pannier side hoops of the 18th century - something that made a reappearance for part of the 20s, albeit in much milder form called robe de style. I'm not sure if the filmmakers were alluding to that at all, really, but either way, her dress is hilarious.
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They only went about halfway with the cloche hats. The 1920s cloche really encapsulated the cranium, almost entirely covered bobbed hair, and obscured much of the face from certain angles, so it's easy to see why they've been somewhat reined in for the film. Still, it ends up looking more 1930s, where the hats started to recede away from the face, evolving in the direction of the pillbox.
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Similarly, Tiana's hair is not very reminiscent of the bobbed, close-to-the-cranium style of the period, but I think that could legitimately be written off as characterization. She's not at all the type of person who'd fuss about going à la mode. Not everyone bobbed and finger-waved their hair.
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The clothes Prince Naveen is introduced in are very 1920s collegiate in spirit - the wide-leg oxford bags, the sleeveless pullover sweater, the flat cap, and high, stiff collar. The ukulele and banjolele were pretty trendy instruments at the time too.
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Definitely some Josephine Baker vibes here. Also, the look of this whole fantasy sequence was reportedly inspired by the works of Aaron Douglas, a luminary painter of the Harlem Renaissance known for his depictions of the lives of African-Americans. (The mural is in Topeka, Kansas.)
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They pretty much nailed the Art Deco. It's gorgeous. Looks somewhat inspired by the interiors of some of the Ralph Walker-designed NYC architecture, plus some French Quarter balcony flair for the final manifestation of Tiana's Place. Her dress here does resemble some gauzy mid-1920s looks, too.
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Culturally speaking...
New Orleans is an unusual place. Because some of the colonial Spanish and French laws and conventions that New Orleans evolved under persisted even after its inception into the United States; because it was such a heterogeneous hub of indigenous and immigrant peoples; and because it had a considerable population of free people of color (mostly Creole), it did not function quite like the rest of the South leading up to the Civil War, nor for a while after. Its particular coalescence of cultures made it its own unique sort of culture within the country, within the region, within the state of Louisiana even. By the early 20th century, though, regardless of the not-very-binary nature of New Orleans, Jim Crow laws were enforcing a literal black-and-white distinction, and not an evenhanded one, by far. In that aspect, the city had begun to resemble the rest of the South.
The film nods at the wealth disparity, but goes on to paint a pretty rosy picture of race and class relations at the time. Still it's not unbelievable that some people were exceptions to the rules. You could probably find a few compartments of old New Orleans society that resisted segregation or certain prejudicial norms, preferring to do things their own way. That aside, the film wasn't trying to confront these topics. Not every piece of media should have to. Sometimes breaking away from miserable period piece stereotypes is refreshing. I'm not sure it could have handled that meaningfully given the running time, narrow story focus, and intended audience, anyhow. (But you could perhaps also make a case that family films habitually underestimate younger audiences in this way.)
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Raymond the firefly I guess is the film's Cajun representation. There's not much to say about it, except perhaps to note that Evangeline is a reference to the heroine of a Longfellow poem of the same name. The poem is an epic romance set during the expulsion of the Acadians from the eastern provinces of Canada and the northernmost reaches of the American colonies (now Maine) by the British in the mid-1700s. Many exiled Acadians gradually migrated south to francophone-friendly Louisiana, settling into the prairies and bayous, where 'Acadian' truncated into the pronunciation 'Cajun'. Evangeline - who is only finally reunited with her love when he’s on his deathbed - has become an emblem of the heartbreak, separation and faithful hope of that cultural history, and there are parishes, statues and other landmarks named after the her throughout Louisiana.
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Voodoo does have a very historical presence in New Orleans, having arrived both directly from West Africa and by way of the Haitian diaspora (where it would more properly be called Vodou). While I don't think Disney's treatment of it was especially sensitive or serious, it also wasn't the grotesquely off-base sort of thing that media of the past has been known to do. It was largely whittled down to a magical plot component, but it wasn't so fully repurposed that it didn't resemble Voodoo at all either - and that's mostly owing to the characters, because it does appear the writers pulled from history there.
It’s apparently widely held that Dr. Facilier is a Baron Samedi caricature - and likely that's true, in part - but I have the impression he's also influenced by Doctor John. Not the 20th century funk musician, but the antebellum “Voodoo King” of New Orleans. Doctor John (also called Bayou John, Jean La Ficelle, and other aliases) claimed to be a Senegalese prince. He became well known as a potion man and romance-focused prognosticator to people from all corners of society. Though highly celebrated and financially successful at his peak, he seems ultimately remembered as an exploitative villain.
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To my recollection, the film sort of gingerly avoids referring to Facilier as a Voodoo practitioner directly (I think he's more generically called a witch doctor in the script?) but it does seem to imply his 'friends on the other side' are a consortium of loa. It's mostly abbreviated into nebulously evil-seeming special FX, glazing over any specificity or dimensionality, but it does also loop back around as a vehicle of moral justice. Loa are all very individualistic and multi-faceted, but they do have reciprocal rules for asking favors of them.
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There's also the benevolent counterpart in Mama Odie's character. Her wearing ritual whites has a definite basis in Voodoo/Vodou practice, and her depiction as a fairy godmother-like figure isn't entirely out of step with how a mambo may have been perceived...in a very general sense. They were/are ceremonial leaders and community bastions who people would seek out for help, advice and spiritual guidance. More than just emanating matronly good vibes, though, some have wielded considerable political and economic power.
(Just my opinions here. I've done a lot of reading on the subject for research but I'm no authority with any special insider understanding of Voodoo, and I really shouldn't be relied upon as an arbiter of who has or hasn't done it justice in fiction.)
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In summary--
Culturally, I think the film is respectably informed but paints a superficially genteel picture. The set pieces are gorgeous, but the story mostly delivers a sort of veneer of New Orleanishness. And as for fashion, well, it’s the 1920s run through a Disney filter. It’s very pretty, but it’s only as proximally accurate as seemed practical.
I don’t know that any of that really matters so much as whether or not it achieved what it intended, though. As a charming yarn and as a tribute to New Orleans and the Jazz age, I think it’s mostly successful. It’s also really beautifully animated!
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Into the Blackhole
Theodore Nott x gn!reader; fluff
summary: when it all just gets too much, there’s one place you can always find theodore nott, a secluded corner on the second floor of the three broomsticks
a/n: hogmarch prompt 2. it’s apparently my goal to be the last submission for all of these, sorry @thatdammchickennugget (it’s technically still the 13th). i went with the butterbeer approach and this pure fluff. lots of friends to lovers in my submissions, whoops. guess the trope is on the brain
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Bad week. That’s the only way you could describe your current mood. Between the long ass essay Snape had assigned with only 2 days to complete and the howler you’d received from your parents about something that wasn’t even a big deal you needed a break away from the castle.
So here you were on your way to the Three Broomsticks. The path to Hogsmeade is familiar and the fresh air is already starting to improve your mood. With the sun setting soon, there’s a comforting light casted on the village.
The old wooden doors to the pub creak when you open them and it’s relatively quiet for a Friday evening. You decide to make your way up to your usual table to relax a bit before getting a drink. At the top of the stairs you find Theodore Nott already sitting there. A smile spreads across your face.
He looks like his week was just as bad as yours as you slide into the seat next to him. His blue eyes look up to meet yours when you sit down and his expression is immediately softer. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your heart flutter.
“Bad week?” you ask.
Theo sighs and nods, “why else would I be here. Assuming that’s why you’re here too.”
You laugh softly at that, he wasn’t wrong. Since your first trip to Hogsmeade third year, you and Theo had decided this was the best spot in the village to get away from everything. You’d spent many a night here with and without him, and you couldn’t help but feel glad he was with you this time.
“Want something? I was about to go get a drink when you came up,” he stands from the table, eyes still on you.
“Sure, that’d be great.”
He gives you a nod before heading down the stairs, leaving the seat empty and a hole in your heart.
So, maybe you had a small crush on your friend. Maybe.
His footsteps returning pull you out of your thoughts. He sets a cold butterbeer down in from of you and you give him an appreciative smile.
“I know you don’t like warm drinks, as weird as that is,” he teases as he sits back down with his hot butterbeer in hand.
“I’m not arguing about this with you again, Nott,” you tease right back.
He holds his hands up in surrender, which makes you both laugh.
There’s a comfortable silence as you sip on your butterbeer and you steal a few glances at him.
“Wanna talk about it?” his voice surprises you, making you snap your attention to him.
“Just a rough week,” you blink a couple times, trying to think of what to say.
“Yeah, my fathers been, persistent in the whole… mark thing.” He looks down at his mug.
“Oh, Theo, I-“ without thinking about it, you get up and hug him.
He tenses up for a moment at the unexpected touch, but easily melts into your embrace. You don’t ask anything else, you don’t need to. He turns in his seat to make it easier to hug him, his strong arms coming up around your waist.
“Thank you tesorino. I guess I wanted to talk about it, but my friends…” he trails off and you immediately understand. They’ve gone through similar if not worse, it can be too much.
“I’m always here for you Teddy,” the nickname slips past your lips like it’s the most natural thing in the world and you try not to blush at the Italian term of endearment.
“I know you are and-“ he hesitates, “I think that’s why I’m falling in love with you.” The second half comes out quieter, like he’s scared of your response. “Actually, I’ve liked you for a long time.”
His blue eyes meet yours and it feels like it’s just the two of you here in the Three Broomsticks.
Just the two of you in all the universe.
He blushes, “sorry, not great timing on my part.”
“No!” you blurt out, “I’ve had a crush on you forever. Since we met first year.”
Theo looks a little shocked, but it’s quickly replaced with a smile and you melt.
“Wanna maybe turn this pity party into uh- a date maybe?”
You laugh softly, which makes him join you.
“Sure, I’d love nothing more.” You sit back down in your seat, in your and Theodore’s table and you can’t stop the grin that spreads across your face.
“But first, another butterbeer?” he smiles and you happily nod.
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lila-went-missing · 2 months
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Saw you want to write Clarisse x Reader and I NEED more clarisee x reader fics SO!
Can you a Clarisse x reader of when Percy broke her spear and just like readers reaction to the her scream and just very angsty but very fully at the same time! Pls and thank u!
I swear on my life reverse hurt/comfort is one of my favorite things to write on this planet. Also, I feel like it’s worth mentioning that Dior said she literally BLEW OUT HER VOICE when she did that scream?!?! She never fails to amaze me.
This got a bit sadder than intended but it's not too bad. Also, sorry this took so long, I had a math test, two essays, and a debate, on top of personal shit. But I FINALLY got it finished.
My Love is Waiting For You to Come Home
Warnings: Slight violence, mild angst, hurt/comfort, cursing, small amounts of blood, mentions of wounds, lmk if I left anything out.
Pair: Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Apollo!Reader
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For the first time in what felt like forever, capture the flag was going great. It had been a long time since the red team had won, but you were actually doing really well. You were up in a tree close to the flag, shooting anyone who got too close with your arrows. They weren't sharp, but they had enough of a point to hurt.
Clarisse was hunting in the woods below you. You'd occasionally catch sight of her from the place you were perched on your branch. She always looked amazing like this. Hair pulled back, armor on, spear in hand. She was in her element, and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't extremely attractive. The way she looked so tough, her lucky red bandanna tied around her bicep.
Anyone else would say she looked terrifying. But to you, she was the most beautiful person you'd ever laid eyes on. You were the only one who got that side of her.
It wasn't long before she disappeared again, hunting down anyone who dared to get close to the flag or your tree. She had mentioned something before the game. Something about revenge on the new kid. She didn't go into detail about said revenge, but you new it wouldn't end well for someone.
You didn't move from your tree, assuming her and her siblings had everything handled. And they did, for a while at least. You had shot down another four people by the time you heard your girlfriend scream in a way that genuinely terrified you.
Jumping down from the tree, you raced to the sound as the conch horn blue. You made it in time to see her storm off as the blue team carried the flag over. Just before she made it out of sight, you saw the spear in her hand. Or rather, what was left of it.
Oh gods. You thought.
You tipped your head back, letting out a breath before turning in the direction she went. You found her in the arena, tearing dummy after dummy into shreds. You let her go at it for a while, watching from the doorway.
Eventually, you slowly walked towards her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"Clar.." You whisper.
She jumps, turning quickly, ready to knock you into the ground before relaxing. All of the tension disappears from her face, her bottom lip trembling. You reach forward, taking the sword from her hand and tossing it into the rack haphazardly.
"I- fuck.." She drops her head forward, breathing hard.
"Come on.. it'll be okay." You lead her towards your cabin, knowing all of your siblings would be in the infirmary tending to peoples wounds. You can see cuts and bruises on her arms, giving you a feeling that her back will be even worse. You make sure to grab the pieces of her spear on your way out.
On the way to your cabin, her eyes don't leave the ground. Your hand stays on her back the the whole walk, not leaving even as you open the door for her.
She sits on your bed, putting her head in her hands. The broken weapon lays on the foot of your bed as you sit next to her. Her breath shakes with her body.
"Let me clean you up, okay?" She nods, at your words.
"Okay.." Her voice is smaller than you've ever heard it before. You lean forward and pull her shirt over her head, confirming your suspicions about her back. An angry red covers almost the entirety of her tan skin, small amounts of blood leaking from a few spots.
You hover a hand over the scrapes and cuts, a warm glow emanating from your palm. Her wounds slowly heal as her muscles relax. Your heart breaks for her every time you hear her wince or feel her breath hitch. Your free hand reaches forward, grasping hers. A few small scars form over the area, but nothing that won't fade.
You lean your chin on her shoulder when you finish, wrapping your arm around her front. Her other hand reaches up to hold your wrist.
"I love you.." You whisper into her ear.
She hesitates, not speaking for a few moments. When she does her voice is as shaky as her body.
"That was the only thing- the only proof he-" She can't finish either sentence. You can feel her holding her breath as if she's trying not to cry.
"I know, my love. I know." Your lips press into her shoulder. "I'm gonna talk to some Hephaestus kids, I think there's a couple of Hecate kids in the Hermes cabin. I'll do everything I can to fix it."
Her whole body shudders. She's never had the best relationship with her dad. He'd always said that she should've been a son. That spear was the only acknowledgement she'd ever gotten from him. And now it was broken.
A few tears slip down her cheek that you pretend not to see.
"It'll be okay, Clar'." Your arms tighten around her as her head leans into you.
"Thank you." She mutters. If it wasn't for your close proximity you probably wouldn't have heard it at all.
"You deserve someone to care about you.. I'll be damned if I don't do everything I can to be that person."
"I love you. So much." Her voices is so soft, so gentle.
"I love you more." You're not sure how long you sit like that, but it's long enough for your legs to go numb. You can bring yourself to care as she looks so comfortable. She's always had to fight for her dad's love. It gets tiring after you do everything you can to get no recognition. It was nice to know she had someone. If she didn't have anyone else, she would have you.
Eventually you moved positions to her laying on your chest. Your hand rubs up and down her back as her wrap around your waist. She traces patterns across your skin with her finger tips. It's not long before you're both sound asleep in each other's arms. She would never have to fight for your love, it was just there, ready for her when she came home.
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gentaro-kinniecom · 2 months
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New Beginnings
Characters: Zayne/fem!reader
C/w: 1.4k! (Read at your own risk, meant for +18) mentions of breeding, married life, somewhat graphic descriptions of sex. Zayne wants to be a father although he doesn't admit it..he just wants to get you knocked up.
A/n: Finished writing this instead of my english essay because... There's also a Rafayel fanfic in the making so stay tuned for more <33
“Zayne? It’s 1am, you still haven’t come back to bed..” I said, leaning against the door frame as he sighed, typing away on his computer while passing a hand across his hair, trying to calm himself down. 
“I know. I’m sorry, I’ll be there”
“That’s what you said an hour ago..you’re tiring and exhausting yourself to the point of death at this point” Zayne sighed, closing his laptop and getting up from his desk chair, walking towards me with a soft grin trying to comfort me. 
“Are you satisfied now?” He asked, hugging my waist as we walked towards our shared bedroom. Ever since we got married, Zayne has gotten more work than usual piled up on his desk every time I go to visit him at work. It worries me that he’s overworking himself because of money, which hasn’t been an issue at all given he’s a doctor and works in a very respected hospital. But what other reason might it be? I laid in our shared bed, feeling myself drift away to sleep when suddenly, Zayne wrapped his arms around my waist. 
“Mhm, thank you” I replied, snuggling up to him while caressing his soft dark strands of hair that fell on his face, smiling. He muttered something under his breath that I couldn’t quite grasp as Zayne kissed me goodnight. I couldn’t help but stay awake for a few minutes, looking at the city lights by the window and back at Zayne’s sleeping form beside me.
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Woken up by the sound of something crashing from the kitchen, I got out of bed with a small yawn, walking down the corridor of our lovely home to see Zayne had a mess of pancake batter all over his “kiss the cook” apron while sighing in annoyance before turning towards me.
“There’s shards of glass on the floor..please, be careful” I nod, grabbing a broom from the closet room and coming back to see Zayne was picking up the broken pieces from the floor. I suddenly stepped in one while trying to hand him the broom which made him look at me with worry, I try not to cry as he can clearly see the tears pricking my eyes.
“I’m fine I swear..” Without a second thought, he quickly lifted me onto the kitchen counter, carefully yet skillfully removing the glass from my foot as Zayne chuckled.
“Having you like this, reminds me of our honeymoon. Remember when-” I stopped Zayne by placing a hand over his mouth, trying to not remember that day where he fucked me into oblivion in our hotel’s kitchen island, right before breakfeast too.
“Why must you always make me remember? It’s like you’re hinting at wanting kitchen sex right now..” A chuckle left his lips as Zayne’s body inched closer, his hands grabbing my waist gently, kissing my neck while whispering sweet words that had me falling into his desire.
“Because, shouldn’t being a husband imply taking care of his wife’s desires as their own? Is it too bad that I want to be greedy with you for a few moments?”His hands began to trail under my nightgown and towards my chest as he began to rub my nipples, making me whine while kissing him.
“Alright, fine. Just seeing you in this apron alone made me feel things, did you do it on purpose?” I asked half jokingly as Zayne kissed my shoulder before taking off my nightgown, leaving me naked on the counter while grinning ear to ear.
“Perhaps, although now I see what you’ve been meaning to hide all this time; you’re trying to rile me up, and it’s working” He then kissed me, taking his sweet time to stroke my clit, agonizingly slow, teasing me as I whined into his mouth. Zayne didn’t take this lightly and spread my legs apart in a second. 
“And to think this wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t break the glass measuring vase today” I added, gazing over at Zayne who kneeled towards my pussy, blowing on it gently before sucking on it. I gasped as his tongue did wonders, had I really forgotten of that day, or was I too fucked out of my brains to remember? Possibly the latter. He suddenly grabbed my thighs, massaging them in a way that made my cunt drip with more arousal than before. Of course, I was impatient, so I grabbed Zayne’s hair, pulling him upwards as he got the message.
“Maybe it was fate or clumsiness on my behalf, at least we’re making something out of this.” He spoke, yet I was too focused on how quickly he was to take off his pants, making me wonder why the hell was he wearing work pants so early in the morning. Nonetheless, all my thoughts vanished out the window as soon as I saw his cock. It wasn’t less than average or more, slightly curved and girthy, the type that never wants to let go once he’s had a taste..that..is the man I married, and the man he will always be. The small but noticeable vein on the side made me drool as he stroked himself a few times before prodding at my entrance. 
“Please, don’t make me wait longer, my love” 
“I thought, you weren’t the type to beg for something, it seems there’s a first for everything after all” Pushing my hips to meet his cock, Zayne grabbed them harshly, not enough to leave a bruise but enough to put me in my place as he smiled. The moment he thrusted inside, I threw my head back at the overwhelming pleasure Zayne was giving me at the moment. My hand found Zayne’s shoulder as he continued to pound at my dripping pussy. He let out a sharp groan as he finally reached my g-spot, making me let out a breathy moan while speeding up.
“Is this what you- hah wanted all along? For me to breed you? Make you carry our child? Answer me.” Zayne’s voice dropped to that soft and warm yet firm tone I always loved. Without any doubt, I answered almost eagerly.
“Y-yes..! Oh fuck~!” I sobbed due to the stimulation he gave me, in a hazy rush, Zayne grabbed my thighs, thrusting sharply yet deeply, enough to make me crave more.
“You’d be such a good mom, look at you, all needy and willing for me. I can’t wait to expand our family with you” He said, panting afterwards as he unexpectedly came inside rather quickly than normal. Pulling his cock away from my puffy cunt almost regretting his decision not long before seeing his cum leak down with a faint smile on his face.
“Stay here, I’ll go grab a towel.'' I nod, smiling at his gentleness as he comes back to clean me up. Zayne’s lips met mine as a ‘thank you’ from my behalf for being so kind and sweet as always. We eventually got dressed once again as I looked at my husband through the mirror of our bedroom, walking downstairs as I stared at the kitchen momentarily.
“So..what are we going to do about breakfast?” I asked, causing him to laugh while he grabbed both the house and car keys as we exited the front door.
“I know of a brunch place that just opened up nearby, perhaps we could give it a try today”
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Some weeks later, I started feeling sick and began vomiting sometimes during the morning. I had a feeling it was because I was pregnant, however, my husband wanted to run some tests for me in the clinic near the hospital he worked at, “just to be sure” his words not mine. At the end of the day, I returned home waiting for the results to come back as I heard the front door open. Zayne tried little to hide the smile on his face as he handed me the envelope from the clinic
“I don’t need to read the letter at this point with the way you’re smiling at me” I teased, opening it up to show that I was indeed 3 weeks pregnant with his child. Zayne hugged me briefly before kissing my lips ever so softly.
“I promise to be the best father for our child, thank you for allowing me to have the blessing to start a family the day we got married, I love you.” He spoke, tear-eyed as I hugged him back, crying happily onto his chest.
“I love you too..I’ll never regret marrying the man that treats me like a queen and makes sure I have everything I need.” 
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rogueddie · 9 months
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Runner / End Of Beginning
Steve has never seen his father as upset, as furious, as he was when he got home with his final exam results. He'd known- suspected- that his father would flip when his results came in...
His father got angry at small things. Hearing that he'd had a party while they were away, that a girl went missing at that party, had been the closest Steve thought he'd ever get to recieving a beating.
But when he came home with his grades... when his father realized that his son, his supposed prodigy, barely passed...
Steve has never ran as fast as he currently is.
As soon as he'd seen an openning, a clear line to the door, he'd stumbled to his feet and bolted. He'd picked a random direction and ran. He isn't going to stop running until he physically has to stop, knowing that his father is most likely in his car, trying to find him.
He can't stop. He has to keep running.
Eventually, he has to pause. He has to catch his breath.
He leans against a trailer, panting. He prays that no one thinks to look outside and spot him. He prays that no one will-
"Harrington?"
"Fuck." He hisses, squinting up at- "Munson?"
"What the fuck happened to you?" He says, eyes widenning when he finally gets a look at his face. "Second round with Hargrove, or what?"
"Nothing happened, I'm fine."
Munson eyes him for a moment, frowning. "Is someone after you?"
"What do you care?" Steve heaves a deep breath, forcing himself to stand up straight. He brings his knees up in a few knee highs, gearing up for another sprint.
"Ugh. Just- you can come into my trailer," Munson says, sounding as though Steve is forcing him to make the suggestion. "No one would think to look for you there. You can, like... I don't know. Drink some water? You jocks do that, right?"
"Wh- I don't need your help!"
"I'm not waiting for you all day, come on, let's go!" He makes a wide, exaggerated gesture for Steve to follow.
"You just assume I'm gonna follow?"
"Yeah."
He sounds so confident, so sure, that Steve can't think to do anything other thank blink and say, "fuck it, yeah, alright."
Steve is a little surprised at how much space Eddies trailer has. It's cramped, but in a nice way- the way a home gets when people actually live in it. When the people inside are actually happy and chase those joys.
Munson does get him a glass of water, mumbling at him to "sit anywhere", before flopping onto the sofa himself. He turns the TV on, focusing on that.
"Thanks," Steve eventually mutters, awkwardly sitting down.
"Wanna talk about it?"
"Nothing to talk about."
"Sure."
"There isn't," he insists, despite how casual and accepting Munson is acting. "It's my fault, anyway. I deserved it."
"Did you?" Munson turns to him, eyebrow raised. "All us freaks and losers can talk about these days is your change of heart. King of Hawkins High turned lame boytoy."
"Thanks, that makes me feel so much better," Steve sneers.
"Even Jeff thinks you're alright now," he barrels on. "Said he bumped into you, pretty hard, knocked all your shit down, and you apologized. Said his coffee ended up on an essay, or something. Thought he was about to get his ass kicked and you just..."
He waves his hand at him, as though that's explination enough.
Steve doesn't know a Jeff, but he's pretty sure he knows who Munson is talking about, and; "I wasn't looking where I was going. If anything, we were both at fault."
"See?" Munson waves his hand at him again, a little more pointed. "Don't doubt you've got a long way to go, but you're not half-bad. You didn't deserve whatever the fuck happened to your face."
"Whatever."
They fall quiet, both pretending to watch whatever is on the TV. Steve is so zoned out that, when someone clears their throat, he flinchs.
"Sorry to startle you boys," the man chuckles. But the humor quickly teeters out, once he gets a good look at Steve. "You alright, kid?"
"I'm fine."
"He's not," Munson grins wide when Steve glares at him.
"Staying the night?" The man continues, only looking at Eddie now.
"If I can convince him," Munson shrugs.
"I can't stay the night," Steve tries.
"Good," the man nods, as though Steve hadn't said anything. "I'll start making us all some dinner." He finally looks to Steve. "You got any allergies?"
"I can't stay," Steve tries again, insisting.
"No," Munson answers for him. "No problems with meat either."
The man gives Munson a thumbs up, heading through to the kitchen.
"I can't stay," Steve repeats, turning to Munson. "Really. I have to go back or... I have to go back."
"What will happen if you don't go back?"
Steve grimaces. "Nothing. Just- I can't stay here."
"Why not? They gonna hit me too?"
"You know what, Munson? Yeah, probably. And your- your dad?"
"Uncle," Munson snorts, standing, stretching. "No one messes with us though. We're too scary." He wiggles his fingers in Steves face as he passes by. "And call me Eddie."
"Why?"
"It's my name."
Steve awkwardly follows him to the kitchen, hovering a good distance from the two of them, watch how they move around each other with so much comfort and ease. It makes something in Steves chest ache.
"Oh, hey, you like football right?" Eddie asks, pointing to him.
"Uh, yeah, kinda. Not enough to have, like, a team." Steve shrugs.
Wayne turns around slowly, eyebrows raised. "You don't got a team?"
Talking football with Wayne is so easy that, until he's halfway through the dinner he cooked, Steve doesn't notice how fast the time is going. He can't bring himself to be bothered though. It's too nice.
Plus, Eddie is almost bouncing with joy at how well Steve and Wayne are getting along.
Someone starts banging on the door, loud and aggressive, as they make their way to the kitchen.
"Alright!" Wayne calls, rolling his eyes. "Hold your horses."
Steves stomach drops when the door opens and his father is on the other side. He smiles at Steve, sickly sweet and dangerously calm.
"Oh, thank God," he sighs. "Steve, your mother and I have been looking all over for you. When you didn't get home-"
Wayne blocks his way when he tries to step inside. "Who are you?"
"Robert Harrington," Steves dad sniffs, leaning back so he can physically look down at Wayne. "I'm here for my son."
"He ain't here."
Robert Harrington splutters, face tinting red with anger and frustration. He points to Steve, voice raising as he says, "he's right there! And he's coming with me."
Wayne turns, slow and casual. "Huh. That's odd. Don't see him."
"Steve," he snaps his fingers at Steve, like he's a dog. "Come on. We're going home."
Eddie shifts so he's standing slightly in front of him.
It's enough reassurance for him to finally snap back; "I'm not going anywhere with you."
"Steven-"
"Get off my property," Wayne snaps.
His father glares at them, waiting, as though he expects them to back down. When he doesn't, he snarls; "this is kidnapping."
"He's 18," Eddie drawls.
Grumbling, he stomps off.
"Asshole," Wayne mutters. He shuts and locks the door, sliding on the chain too.
Steve has to sit down, with how much his legs are shaking.
"You alright?" Eddie asks, hesitantly sitting beside him.
"Yeah," Steve says. He's surprised to find he means it. "Yeah, I'm good."
"You can stay here, long as you need," Wayne offers. "You'll have to bunk with Eds though. Not a lot of room."
"Why can't he use the sofa when you're-"
"Nope," Wayne cuts him off. There's a glint of mischief in his eyes that has Steve squinting in suspicion. "And you'll need those cuts looking at. Eddie, why don't you go with him. Medkits in the bathroom."
Steve goes ahead when Eddie points the way to the bathroom.
Eddie tries to give Wayne a warning look but he's unbothered and, with Steves back turned, he gives Eddie an encouraging wink.
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klausinamarink · 8 months
Text
(saw this post and laughed at everyone’s tags and ended up writing this instead of my actual wips i should really finish whOOPs)
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Eddie bopped his head lightly along to Mötley Crüe on his Walkman as he scribbled his ideas for the Thanksgiving oneshot. He managed to finish the gruelling biology homework and his English essay tonight, so he deserved a treat.
As he tapped his pencil against his desk, he looked up and happened to catch one Steve Harrington’s face at the window.
Eddie perked up, taking his headphones off. Steve grinned, gave his dumb finger wave, and pointed at the window. Eddie gave him a ‘wait a second’ gesture and hurried to close his door, peeking first at the living room where Wayne sat on the couch and read his newspaper. Then he swiftly moved his Mötley Crüe tape to his radio and cranked the volume up that would cover any discreet noise.
He lifted the window open, taking a moment to closely observe Steve’s face in his goofy awestruck glory. “What brings you to my balcony, Romeo?”
Steve shrugged playfully, “Doesn’t Juliet yearn for his lover to come at unknown hours under the moonlight?”
Eddie gave himself a second to turn away and cover his delightful shriek with a palm over his mouth. Goddamnit, his boyfriend is a perfect Shakespeare romantic. He leaned back in with a low whisper, “Sounds like Romeo needs an excuse to see Juliet.”
“That’ll be great since I’m literally tiptoeing on this box right now.” Steve laughed and heaved himself up with a ‘hup!’ Eddie stepped back to let his boyfriend shimmy in, but then his eyes widened in horror when he realized what was under the window in his room.
“Wait, Steve-!” Eddie cut off as Steve landed elegantly onto the small bookshelf instead of the bed because he had switched their places the previous week because his brain was on a weird day and Eddie had thought doing so might shut it up, so he has yet to reverse them.
The bookshelf toppled over on the floor, along with the lamp and other figurines. Steve himself pretty much crashed and rolled before he stopped himself on his side. He looked up at Eddie in bewilderment.
“Uhhh…”
Before either of them could say anything, Wayne burst into the room. Out of instinctive reflex, Eddie threw his bedsheets right on Steve, covering him but not really hiding him.
“What’s going on?” Wayne asked. His gaze landed on the mess and the very obvious Steve blanket lump on the floor.
“Nothing!” Eddie answered, too cheerily. “I was just dancing a lot and, uh, did this. By accident, sorry.”
Wayne stared at him, clearly not believing his ass. “…Right.” He said slowly. “Does Steve want to stay for breakfast in the morning?”
Eddie blinked innocently and, because he was the best liar in the entire world, said, “Who’s Steve?”
Steve made some muffled guffaw sound. Eddie subtly kicked him in where he hoped was in the shins. Wayne gave him another stare before coming to Steve the Blanket Lump and lifted the sheet up where Steve blinked just as innocently back.
“What’s your name, son?” Wayne asked matter of factly.
“…Steve?”
“Steve, would you like to stay for breakfast in the morning?”
Steve looked over to Eddie, who quickly shook his head no, then back at Wayne with his parent-rated charming smile. “Of course, I wouldn’t mind, Wayne.”
His uncle nodded and dropped the blanket, covering Steve again. He turned and walked out of the room, calling out, “Better not hear any more noises again!”
Eddie practically dropped to the ground, his face in his hands, and groaned aloud. This was so embarrassing. He felt Steve’s arms hugging his chest. “Eds, babe, I’m sorry but you know I would die for your uncle’s buttermilk biscuits and jams.”
He glared at his boyfriend half-heartedly. “Stealthy like a ninja, you say?”
Steve pointedly looked down at the fallen bookshelf. “Welllll, I could’ve sworn there was always a bed there-”
Eddie kissed him. “Well,” he said after they broke apart, “maybe I’ll let Romeo help me clean up and all shall be forgiven with our usual duties.”
Steve wiggled his eyebrows with a shit-eating grin. “Clean up, you say, Juliet?”
Wayne hollered at Eddie to close his bedroom door.
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