#I didn’t mean to accuse you of being combative or anything! I was meaning I’ll let otnf defend her own *argument*

[zeldahime]

I will say, as regards Good Omens, that Nina and Maggie aren't getting a lot of attention because they just don't have chemistry and that this is kind of on purpose. They're being forced into situations by Crowley and Aziraphale in an attempt to make them fall in love, but that isn't how it works and Nina has other stuff going on.

We spend most of our time in Nina's head finding out about her current relationship (bad, gender of partner unknown) and our time in Maggie's finding out how stressed she is about her store (business is SUPER down because of the pandemic). Maggie seems to have a bit of a crush, but the one time they're alone together it's just super, super awkward, to the point it almost hurts to watch.

Their point in the story of season 2 is to be awkwardly not in love with each other while Aziraphale and Crowley try to smash them together like Barbie dolls. It does not make me want to smash them together like Barbie dolls more. At this point it just seems cruel.

https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/746553097204203521/the-fandom-hates-women-response-to-lack-of-ff

The "fandom hates women" part of it comes from the fact that fandom as an entity just doesn't watch the kind of media that draws femslash, even if it ticks all of the boxes of things those very same people say they like. There are so many times I've watched a show that I've seen mega-popular Tumblr posts wishing existed, and then the fandom is so, so small comparatively and often in general. There have been superheroes, vampire/supernatural shows, fantasy shows, movies, books, the list goes on, that feel like they were generated out of Tumblr's desires for ideal fandom media, and everyone knows they're never going to attract anywhere near the same attention for fandom and fanworks because the common denominator just tends to be that if there isn't a full ensemble of attractive men to ship either with each other or with the women, fandom's not interested.

So it's not about prioritizing women in that sense, it's about people witnessing hypocrisy over and over again the second a show doesn't have a mostly-male ensemble. The people who are in these fandoms are frustrated that good faith attempts to get people interested are met with every excuse in the book that all eventually boils down to "I don't like watching stuff with women in it as much as I like watching stuff with men in it." And if that's how people feel about it... sometimes the conclusions are going to turn into the more uncharitable take of "fandom hates women."

--

Maybe, but whenever I see a "fandom hates women" reblog of my stuff, one or two reblogs further down the chain I get an overt TERF. I just had to go block several people today, in fact.

The first person to reblog with a comment like that is usually subtle, but their friends and friends of friends are not. The rhetoric that very quickly starts is the fandom equivalent of that "All the butches are becoming trans men! We're losing lesbians!" stuff.

Here's the thing: I've been in ten billion fandoms that were so awesome and fit fandom's supposed tastes to a T and yet no amount of promoting them could get anyone to try the canon. This goes for canons that are all men or all white men or all majority ethnicity men or whatever else.

The default state of media is to not engender a big fic fandom.

I agree that the rare outliers mostly follow certain patterns, but we extrapolate too far when we say that a lack of those patterns is why a fandom is small.

A fandom is small because that's the near-universal default.

--

Yes, a small slice of fandom consists of guilt-ridden queer fujoshi who say they want more f/f but don't make much of a move to make that happen. I tend to run into that a lot because of my own tastes and having friends who share those tastes.

Far more of fandom is people talking generally about how representation matters without saying they would personally join these fandoms if they existed.

Neither group is large enough to be the real reason some woman-heavy canon fails to take off to HP levels.

The real reason is not hypocrisy but the fact that most things don't take off like that. Most things without massive, massive audiences especially don't take off like that. And the very few things that do are flukes and don't actually predict that another similar thing will take off in the future.

--

Go to AO3's tag search. Search for all canonical fandom tags. Sort by uses and descending order.

Right now, I get 64,390 tags.

The first page, 50 tags, goes from HP with 497,845 works to the Thor movies with 59,266 works. By page 6, we're below 10 thousand works.

By the end of page 10, we're down to Labyrinth with 3,906.

Somewhere in the top 500 AO3 fandom tags (many of which are just franchise metatags for each other), we go all the way from megafandoms to medium size and down to relatively modest ones.

That's not a lot of room for a big f/f-heavy fandom given the trends in mainstream media and that mainstream media is where most really big fandoms come from.

--

I also notice that you're conflating a lack of desire to watch something that's primarily about women with a lack of desire to watch something that includes women.

There are tons of fans who want something more like The Mummy with a leading man and leading woman they love.

Granted, that's not me and that's not a lot of my fujoshi/slasher audience, but it's extraordinarily common. I know plenty of people who don't like canons that are only dudes, but since they also don't like canons that are only ladies and they don't ship f/f, this gets spun into "fandom hates women".

--

Let me be clear:

Conflating "lesbians" and "women" is a radfem position.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Never Try, Never Know

Pairing: Peter Parker enemies to lovers

Synopsis: Flash pesters you about your sex life

Read the series or read on its own

Masterlist

A month later, you were in Peter’s room once again. Doing your homework together had once again become a make out session.

You were underneath Peter with your hands up in his hair. Your skirt was hiked up around your waist and his jeans were brushing against you every time he moved. His hand was resting just below your boob, pressing firmly on your rib cage. As you kissed him, you slowly moved his hand up and kept yours on top of his. You squeezed your hand, prompting him to squeeze your boob. You could feel him smile into the kiss as he gained more confidence. He slipped his hand under your shirt and brushed his thumb over your bra. You moaned into his mouth, hoping he would keep going. You could feel his boner against your thigh and you were dying for him to take the next step already.

“Can I take my shirt off? You whispered against his lips. He nodded eagerly in response. You pulled away from Peter for a moment to pull your shirt off and tossed it to the floor. His cheeks tinted pink since this was the first time you’d done this. He shyly looked at you and gulped so you gave him a reassuring smile.

“It’s okay.” You told him. “You can touch me.”

Peter hesitated before putting his hand back on your boob. He bent down to kiss you again and slowly trailed kisses down your neck. You were combing your fingers through his hair as he kissed the tops of your breasts, thinking you were finally about to go all the way with him. Before you had a chance to do anything else, Peter pulled away and groaned.

“Oh my God.” He gulped and sat up.

“Are you okay?” You sat up as well to check on him.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

You slumped back on the bed as Peter climbed off and went to the bathroom. Once you heard his shower turn on, you let out an angry huff. You squeezed your legs together in frustration before slipping your shirt back on.

That was how it always went. You’d get close but never go all the way. You knew Peter was a virgin, but you were starting to think he wanted to stay that way. You didn’t want to push Peter before he was ready, but your sexual frustration was getting to be more than you could handle. If you waited any longer, you thought you might explode.

“I’m back.” Peter announced, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Sorry about that. I get overstimulated very easily. All my nerve endings are extra sensitive.”

“It’s fine.” You faked a smile as he sat next to you. “But you know, you don’t have to calm yourself down every time. You could run with it.”

“Run with it?” Peter asked. “You mean, you want me to…”

“Fuck me. Yeah.” You nodded. “Just a suggestion.”

Peter’s face blushed all the way down to his neck at your bluntness. He shyly laughed and put his lap top on his lap.

“You’re crazy.” He chuckled. “What do you want to watch?”

“I’m fine with anything.” You faked a smile and rested your head on his shoulder. You didn’t want him to know you were disappointed. If he wasn’t ready, then he wasn’t ready. The only problem was, you were a little more then ready. You were two close calls away from begging him to fuck you, and you could only hope it wouldn’t resort to that.

~

You were in a bad mood the next day at school. All you could think about was how badly you wanted to get off. It felt like Peter was dangling himself in front of you but never letting you have him. To make a bad day worse, Flash spotted you at your locker and decided to pester you.

“Hey, pretty lady.” He smiled as he flicked some of your hair off your shoulder. “What are you doing tonight? Wanna get Flash-y on a Friday?”

“Fuck off.” You groaned. “I have a boyfriend.”

“There is no way you and Parker are actually together.” Flash scoffed when you rejected him. “This has got to be some weird hate sex thing.”

You froze when he mentioned sex since it was currently a sensitive topic for you.

“It’s not.” You said quickly. “Peter is my boyfriend, and you make me drier than sandpaper. Buh bye.”

You pushed him away from you and kept walking, but he followed.

“Who do you guys think you’re fooling? Everyone knows you guys hate each other.” Flash insisted.

“We used too.” You shrugged. “Now we love each other.”

“Are you sure you’re not just hooking up to get your frustration out and thinking it’s a relationship?”

You sucked in a sharp breath when he mentioned it again, growing frustrated now.

“I’m positive.” You grumbled.

“Why?”

“Because we haven’t even…” You trailed off when you realized you said too much. But it was too late. Flash’s jaw dropped as he bounced up and down.

“You guys haven’t had sex yet?” He asked. “How? You’ve been together like two months.”

“Can you keep your voice down please?” You hissed. “It’s none of your business. And it’s normal for couples to wait.”

“You know what?” Flash snickered. “I’m not even surprised that you guys haven’t done it yet. He’s not man enough to try anything.”

“Yes he is.” You said. “Shut up Flash.”

“Are you sure about that?” Flash taunted.

“Yes.” You snapped as your confidence slowly faded. “I’m sure. Now leave me alone.”

“I kinda feel sorry for you.” He continued. “You’re dating the man who played the girl part in last years musical. It’s probably the only girl part he’s ever seen.”

“Shut up.” You repeated. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I? Because I’m willing to bet Peter doesn’t have a single clue what to do in bed. He’d be like, “orgasm? You mean organism? It’s an animal, plant, or single celled life form”, or something.” Flash mimicked his voice. “He’s probably awful. He’ll never be able to please you.”

“Yes he can.” You said quietly, but you weren’t sure. You hated to admit it, but you were starting to think Flash might be right.

“How would you know?” Flash taunted. That pushed you to your edge. You knew if you didn’t say something now, Flash would tell the whole school and humiliate Peter.

“Because I was kidding. We have had sex.” You lied. “He sexed me like, a hundred times. Including last night.”

“Really?” Flash narrowed his eyes.

“Yeah. He nearly broke my pelvis.” You continued. “That’s why I’m in leggings today. I’m really sore.”

“Peter Parker left you sore?” Flash snorted. “What’d he do? Forgot you were there and sit on you?”

“No. He fucked me.” You said confidently this time. “Really, really well.”

“Nope. I don’t believe you.” Flash shook his head. “There is no way Little orphan Annie is having sex. Not a chance.”

“Well, he is.” You shrugged. “And he’s got a huge dick. Like, the size of a salt shaker.”

“Salt shakers are like two inches.” Flash scoffed.

“Not the kind you have at home.” You rolled your eyes. “Like, the really big ones at Italian restaurants. That size.”

“For real?” Flash’s eyes widened.

“Yeah.” You began to lose confidence in your lying ability. “Real, um, real monster cock on that boy. He’s uh, he’s a mouthful.”

“You mean handful?” Flash asked.

“I said what I said.”

“No way.” Flash gasped.

“Uh huh. He’s the best I ever had.” You egged it on. “By a long shot, too. He really knows what he’s doing.”

“You’re telling me Peter Parker is some kind of sex god?” Flash raised an eyebrow.

“Yep.” You replied. “In fact, I’m going to his apartment later for more. I just can’t get enough. You’d understand if you were getting it this good.”

“Who would have thought.” Flash shook his head. “I certainly didn’t see this coming.”

“Well, speaking of coming, I better go. Peter’s expecting me.” You smiled tightly and walked away from Flash. You squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment as you left him, unsure of how much damage you had just done.

~

Flash spotted Peter at the lockers the next day and thought of your conversation from the day before. Always looking for trouble, he walked up to Peter and leaned against his locker.

“Hey, Penis Parker.” Flash said with a grin.

“Go away Flash.” Peter groaned.

“Woah.” Flash held up his hands. “That’s no way to talk to someone who knows your dirty little secret.”

Peter stiffened when he heard this and gave his full attention to Flash.

“What?”

“Yup.” He nodded. “I was just talking to Y/n and she told me all about your double life.”

“She what?” Peter asked as he began to panic.

“Yeah. I can’t believe you were able to keep it hidden this long. I’m almost impressed.” Flash said as he folded his arms. Peter grabbed him by the shirt and pressed him up against the lockers as Flash gasped.

“Woah, woah, woah. Take me to dinner first, jeez.” Flash said as Peter loosened his grip.

“What do you know?” Peter said through gritted teeth.

“Not much. Just that you’re not the man I thought you were.” Flash winked.

“What?” Peter flushed with rage.

“You know what I’m talking about.” Flash said before blowing him a kiss. “Bye!”

Peter watched him leave as a nervous anger settled in his stomach. He didn’t know Flash was talking about something entirely different. He assumed you told him about his Spider-Man secret and he was furious with you.

After school, Peter walked to your apartment and used his spare key. He found you in your room and wasted no time in letting you have it.

“What did you tell Flash?” Peter demanded as he slammed the door behind him. You were someone who hated being yelled at, so you were immediately annoyed with Peter’s behavior.

“Woah.” You scoffed. “Nice to see you too.”

“Why did Flash tell me I wasn’t he man he thought I was?” Peter continued. “Did you tell him I was Spiderman?”

“Excuse me?” You stood up angrily. “You can’t just barge in here, yelling at me and accusing me of exposing your secret.”

“I can when you told the worst person we know something I trusted you with.” Peter snapped. “Did you seriously tell him I was Spiderman?”

“Yes, Peter. I told Flash your biggest secret.” You said sarcastically. “I went straight up to him and said, “hey, want to hear some information my boyfriend specifically trusted me to keep?” Then I made rode off in his porch and we made love under the stars. Oh, and we’re writing a cookbook together. It’s called “I Didn’t tell Flash Your Fucking Secret”. You can preorder now.”

“Real funny.” Peter seethed. “If you didn’t tell him, then why did he say you told him my secret? Why was he impressed that I had hidden it for so long?”

“Because I told him…” Your shouting trailed off when you realized what you told Flash was much worse.

“Told him what?” Peter asked angrily.

“Nothing. I didn’t tell him anything. Just calm down.” You rolled your eyes and flopped back on the bed.

“I am calm.” He yelled. “You have to tell me what you said to him.”

“No I don’t.” You said simply. “I have the right to remain silent. I don’t have to tell you shit.”

“If you didn’t tell him I was Spiderman then what could you have possibly told him?” Peter whined as he sat next to you. He was smart enough to know yelling at you would just make you more defensive.

“I don’t want to tell you.” You said quietly.

“Why?”

“It’s embarrassing.” You whined as you covered your face.

“So is your outfit.” Peter shrugged. You uncovered your face to narrow your eyes at him.

“Fucker.” You grumbled.

“Just tell me.” Peter groaned. “Or I’ll shit the bed next time we cuddle.”

“I need you to take a step back from this conversation and think about what you just said to me.” You said seriously.

“I’ll do it.” He threatened.

“Fine. I told him you were…” You mumbled the end of the sentence so even with his super hearing, he couldn’t hear you.

“What?”

“I told him you were really good at sex.” You reluctantly confessed. “I told him all the dirty little secrets of our sex life and that’s what he was talking about when he came up to you. I didn’t tell him anything about spiderman. I cannot believe you think I’d do that to you.”

“You…wait, what?” Peter stuttered as his face went bright red. “What?!”

“Don’t make me repeat it.” You pleaded.

“How did you tell him about our sex life if we never...” Peter’s sentence tapered off like it usually did when it came to talking about something real.

“Fucked?” You raised an unamused eyebrow. If he couldn’t even say the word, you wondered how he’d ever do the action.

“Yeah.” He gulped. “That.”

“I don’t know. I made stuff up.” You shrugged. “I told him we had sex all the time and that you were super good at it. And that, you know, you have a monster cock.” You mumbled the last part out of embarrassment.

“A what?” Peter sputtered. “A fucking what?”

“I was hyping you up.” You defended yourself. “And it’s not like I can’t feel it when we spoon.”

Peter flushed again and rubbed his face.

“Why were you telling him any of this?” He asked wearily.

“Because.” You mumbled, not wanting to tell Peter why the topic ever came up.

“Because why?” He pressed.

“Because he was saying you’d never be able to please me and you were too inexperienced to try anything so I put him in his place.” You explained. “I’m the only one who can make fun of you like that. Not him.”

Peter looked at you with sad eyes as the weight of your words hit him.

“Is that what you think?” He worried. “That I couldn’t please you?”

“What? No, Pete.” You shook your head. “I don’t think that. That’s just what Flash was saying. You know how he is.”

“But he’s right.” Peter gulped. “I am inexperienced. You were my first kiss. I’d have no idea how to...you know.”

“That’s okay.” You assured him. “I don’t expect anything from you.”

That didn’t sit well with Peter. Instead of cheering him up, it made him feel worse.

“Have you had sex before?” He asked quietly. You blinked a few times, knowing your answer would only make the situation worse.

“Yeah.” You nodded stiffly. “I have.”

“Shit.” Peter whispered as he looked down. You noticed he was clenching and unclenching his fist, something he did when he was anxious.

“Peter, I’m sorry.” You got off the bed and put your hands on his face. “I didn’t mean to make you feel insecure. We can just drop this. It doesn’t matter.”

“You feel the same way, don’t you?” Peter frowned with glassy eyes. “You agree with what Flash said so you overcompensated on my behalf. That’s why you told him all those things.”

“Pete, I don’t give a fuck what Flash says.” You told him. “I never have. I was just trying to shut him up.”

“You just told me you don’t expect anything from me.” He said as he moved away from you. “You don’t think I could please you, do you? You think I’m too innocent and inexperienced.”

“Well, you are innocent and inexperienced.” You said calmly. “But that’s not a bad thing. We love each other, okay? And when we’re ready to take the next step, we will.”

Peter sucked in a sharp breath and bit his bottom lip, telling you he was fighting back tears. You put one hand on his shoulder and one on his face in an attempt to comfort him.

“Hey.” You said soothingly. “What’s wrong?”

“First you tell me you wanted to sleep with Bucky, and now I find out you’re telling Flash about our ridiculous make believe sex life because you were too embarrassed to tell him we don’t have one.” Peter said sadly.

“What do those two things have to do with the other?”

“I can’t compete!” Peter exclaimed. “Flash is probably right. I probably can’t please you. I’m just…I’m just a virgin who can’t drive.”

“It’s okay.” You chuckled. “I knew both of those things before I started dating you.”

You only made the situation worse by saying this. The confidence had been knocked right out of Peter and it showed. He was visible shaken over the conversation and you wished it never started.

“Pete.” You sighed. “You don’t have to get upset about this. It’s just a stupid thing Flash said.”

“A stupid thing Flash said that you’re worried is true.” Peter stated. You opened your mouth but quickly shut it when you realized he was right. As much as you hated to admit it, Flash had gotten in your head.

“I’m not worried.” You said weakly.

“I can smell when you’re lying.” Peter said as he glared at you.

“That’s not fair.” You groaned. “Don’t sniff out my emotions.”

“It’s not just your emotions. It’s what you’re saying.” Peter protested. “You were too ashamed to tell him we haven’t had sex yet, weren’t you? And now you think what he said was right.”

“I’m not ashamed. But, I mean, it’s not like you ever try anything.” You shrugged. “We make out and then you take a cold shower and put on a movie. I’m not trying to push you before you’re ready, but Jesus Peter. You can’t even say the word “fuck”. You could barely say “horny” a month ago. They’re just words. You don’t have to be scared of them.”

“I’m not scared. I was trying to be a gentleman. But apparently, that’s not good enough for you.” He shot back.

“Are you mad at me? Is this a fight?” You honestly wondered. You didn’t expect him to react the way he was and it was throwing you off. You’d gotten into plenty of arguments before, but never like this. You were a couple now and the stakes were much higher.

“I don’t know how I feel right now. I know this conversation made me feel really bad, though.” He answered. Your eyes softened for a moment before your anger returned.

“What’s your problem? You should be thanking me.” You insisted. “Flash is probably telling the whole school how great you are in bed. Why are you so upset?”

“I’m upset because my girlfriend thinks I can’t fuck her.” Peter gravely as he stared you in the eyes. You uncrossed your arms and blinked a few times, surprised that he finally said it.

“Yeah.” He stated as he got ready to leave. “I can say the word.”

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[isfjmel-phleg]

Anthea “Awful” Sykes is a fascinating character.

At a glance, she’s the bratty and obnoxious younger sibling trope. But Diana Wynne Jones gives her a depth that most characters of this type aren’t usually afforded. Is Awful really so awful? Well, yes. But also no.

Awful is genuinely, legitimately abrasive and belligerent and that’s just her personality. I do not dispute that. But I can’t help wondering to what extent her “awfulness” is a role that has been thrust upon her. We’re told that she has been called Awful “from the moment she was born and first opened her mouth.” That’s a rather harsh label to apply to an infant, loud or not. Before she’s ever had the chance to develop her personality, she’s already been branded with this unfortunate expectation, based solely on having the audacity to be vocal as an infant. Her parents continue to reinforce this role for her as she gets older, reminding her that they find her unpleasant. “I don’t know what we did to deserve you,” her father tells her--and not in the positive sense. “I’ll give you away willingly,” he adds when she protests that she wishes she were adopted and “[n]ot boring and ordinary.” Banter of this sort is common in the Sykes family, and it’s likely that it’s meant on some kind of affectionate level, but it would be difficult to be exposed to such words from your parents your whole life and not start to internalize it. So I think it’s likely that Awful has learned to exaggerate her naturally truculent traits.

Yet there’s evidence that she feels misunderstood and wants her family’s affection. “Is Venturus selfish too? [...] I am,” she freely admits to Archer, adding after he answers in the affirmative, “Then I like Venturus best.” (This takes on another meaning once we find out who Venturus is!) Yet she becomes uncharacteristically quiet and moody when Howard accuses her of being “as selfish as [...] Torquil!” Instead of lashing back at her brother, she then goes out of her way to be “unnervingly kind to everyone,” as if “trying to prove” her unselfishness. For all of Awful’s rudeness to and taking advantage of her brother, she cares what he thinks of her and takes his criticism to heart in a way she wouldn’t from anyone else. This is not the behavior of someone who “[doesn’t] love anybody,” as she claims.

She’s drawn to Hathaway because he responds to her in the vein of what she means rather than what she says. Howard notices that despite her rudeness, “Awful liked Hathaway. She was talking to him the way she talked to Dad. She was expecting Hathaway to understand.” And indeed it is with Hathaway that she opens up enough to compare her habit of quarreling to Torquil’s: “I don’t mean it either. I wish people understood.” Between the combination of her belligerent nature and the exaggeration that has come with the role she’s accepted, she struggles to express anything in a way other than being difficult. Being Awful has allowed her natural combativeness free rein, but it has also deprived her the ability to be vulnerable. The effects of the wine she drinks at Hathaway’s house catch up to her when she returns to her own time, and intoxication opens up this hidden affectionate side of her. Yet the first words out of her mouth while drunk are “Nobody loves me!” This could be taken with a grain of salt, given her condition, but perhaps in vino veritas after all, and this is an expression of something that Awful privately feels?

There might be some support for this when the family is discussing Howard’s adoption. Awful admits that she knew already, that 

“Mum told me once when I bit her. She said she wished she could have chosen me like she chose Howard. She”--Awful had the grace to go red here--“she said she’d have chosen someone else.”

What a thing to say to one’s own child, awful or not! Perhaps we can charitably assume that Catriona said this in the heat of the moment and didn’t really mean it, but Awful has clearly taken it to heart, and it’s obvious how much this hurts her.

When Howard reproaches her for never telling him he’s adopted, she apologizes and “[hangs] her head.” Her mother didn’t want her to upset Howard, so Awful, the disobedient, the vindictive, the brutally honest, has held her tongue to avoid hurting him.

And shortly after this, her father makes his comment about willingly giving her away. Awful doesn’t see the humor in what she might ordinarily take as a teasing remark. She’s upset and continues to be for a while, even after Howard tries to appease her with the assurance that as the Sykes’s biological child she’s really descended from Hathaway. This doesn’t help, and she “relieve[s] her feelings by calling the guard names.” Her descent from Hathaway isn’t the issue here. It’s the apparent rejection by her own father, on top of the reminder of what she perceives as rejection from her mother. Despite being the child with the actual biological connection to their parents, in this moment she seems to feel as disconnected from them as if she were someone else’s child after all.

There’s so much more to her than being awful. She repeatedly proves herself intelligent and perceptive. She reads the wizard siblings better than Howard does most of the time, and she shows a keen awareness of interpersonal dynamics among the siblings, always asking questions about how they fit into the birth order. And why not? As the second child, she’s had to stay on top of how power works in the family lest she get lost in the shuffle. (Whereas Howard, as the eldest, has a more assured position in the hierarchy and doesn’t need to assert himself to get noticed, as Awful does.) And as we’ve seen, she’s capable of being more caring and affectionate than she seems.

Awful doesn’t seem to have substantially changed by the end of the book. But our perception of her has, and so has Howard’s. He’s ready to help his parents bring her up into someone who doesn’t live up to the worst of her potential (as the equally belligerent Shine has become). If he can grow up not to be Venturus (i.e. the worst version of Venturus), surely Awful too is not bound to the expectations of her nickname.

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Blind Spot

Spencer Reid x (Gender Neutral) Reader

Word Count: 2640

Warnings: Hair pulling kink! Bucketloads of sexual tension but no actual sex. Gratuitous facts about bird nests. Dorks being oblivious. Lots of fluffy heart-eyed banter. Accusations of intercourse with fictional tree-beasts. 

A/N: I saw a gif that made me want to pull Spencer’s hair. That’s it. I have zero shame. 

For the “friends to lovers” square on my @cmbingo​ card! Proofread by @fangirlxwritesx67​ because she’s the best. 

“You look like you fucked an Ent,” you commented cheerfully, stealing sideways glances at Spencer while you waited for the light to change.  

“Thanks, that’s helpful.” He grimaced, trying to tug another burr out of a snarled curl. 

“Oh my god, you’re just making it worse! I’ll help you when we get back to your place. Leave it, you goober.” 

“Did you just call me a goober?” Spencer asked, trying not to laugh. 

“You’re like the dictionary definition of a goober,” you said fondly. 

“I have three PhDs!”  

“I really wish I’d gotten a video of that tumble, Doctor Goober.” 

Spencer was blushing, grinning down at his lap as he shredded a piece of leaf. It was hard not to stare at him when he smiled like that. 

He’d essentially face-planted into a burr bush earlier, somewhere in the Virginia woods — he’d been so excited about explaining some wonky bit of Star Trek physics theory to you that he just forgot to pay attention to his feet — and he’d floundered out with half a hedge stuck in his hair before picking up exactly where he’d left off. 

In other words, Doctor Spencer Reid was a ridiculous human being. You knew that, objectively. It didn’t stop you from having a massive crush on him. 

Either he was pretending not to notice, to spare your feelings, or he was socially oblivious; you tended to believe the former, considering how well you’d seen him read other people, but you appreciated it. There was a chance you’d make it out of this — if you could just get over it already — with your friendship intact. 

You cleared your throat and told him, “You look like the bastard child of Grandmother Willow and the Wizard of Oz scarecrow.” 

“Even if they were real, the anatomical —” 

“You didn’t mention that when I brought up the Ents. Something you want to tell me about you and Treebeard?” 

“You’re ridiculous,” he huffed, trying to sound exasperated, but he could barely keep a straight face for a second before he was laughing, that scratchy sunny childish giggle that only came out when he was really relaxed and carefree. 

“Close the window before a bird sees you and decides to take up residence.” 

“How about you watch the road?”

“What, no facts about bird nests?” 

“Is that a rhetorical question?” 

“Nope.” 

“Well in that case… gyrfalcon nests are frequently re-used and passed along for generations. The oldest one that’s been discovered was in Greenland, and it was actually estimated to be approximately 2,500 years old.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Yes! In fact…” 

You had to remind yourself, yet again, to stop staring. 

Maybe someday you’d get sick of hearing Spencer talk, but you couldn’t really understand the way most of your teammates reacted to his rambling. Even if you didn’t care about what he was saying, there was something amazing about the way his eyes lit up and his hands fluttered around to illustrate his point.

You parked in front of his building and followed him upstairs. His apartment had become comfortingly familiar — ever since you and Spencer bonded over a shared love of sci-fi, you’d taken to driving him home and, if it wasn’t too late, sticking around for an episode or two of Doctor Who.  

He got his ancient little DVD player up and running, and you settled on the couch, fluffing pillows and shoving aside his nest of colorful crocheted blankets, getting cozy. There was something about Spencer’s space that always felt like home; maybe it was the smell of books, or just the general Spencer-ness of the whole place. 

Just being around him had always kinda felt like home, too. Sometimes you forgot you’d only known him for six months. 

He disappeared into his room for a second and came back with a comb. It was cheap plastic, missing a couple teeth, and looked like it hadn’t been used in a while. You looked from him to the comb and back again. 

“That actually explains a lot,” you said, grinning. Spencer rolled his eyes and sat down on the floor in front of you, leaning back against your shins, and after a dismayed glance at his curls, you commented, “We could always just shave it all off.” 

“I’m not going to dignify that with an answer,” he said primly. 

You started with a couple of the less tangled pieces, finger-combing carefully through one soft lock at a time. You half-expected some comment about primates and social grooming, or at least a few facts about the quantum theory behind the TARDIS, but Spencer was uncharacteristically quiet and still, his eyes fixed on the TV. 

You separated out one of the worst knots, and he tilted his head to the side to give you better access. You were being as gentle as possible, but you knew you were hurting him at the first tug — he sucked in a breath, knuckles going white as his fingers clenched on his knees. 

“Sorry, I’m trying,” you sighed. 

With his head tilted like this, you could see the muscle clenching in his jaw and the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. 

“S’okay,” he whispered hoarsely. “It’s not — not your fault.” 

He sat there stiffly as you worked. His hair was silky, where it wasn’t hopelessly knotted, and you were close enough that you could smell whatever clean, sweet shampoo he used. Something about it made you want to hold your breath; it felt like you were too close. Spencer rarely let you inside his little bubble of personal space. 

Maybe that was why he seemed uncomfortable. He was usually so fidgety, tapping out a rhythm or twirling a pen between his long fingers, and it was strange to see him motionless like this. 

You ran your fingers through a de-tangled section, slow and careful, and Spencer shivered, his shoulders trembling for a moment before he went unnaturally still again. 

Spencer blurted out, “Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

At the same time, you asked, “Are you cold?” 

You paused for a moment, surprised by the reaction, but after hesitating, Spencer just muttered, “Yeah. Cold.” 

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were missing something. It was too warm, if anything; Spencer had a patchy flush crawling up his neck and over the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones. 

“Here you go, goober,” you said, awkwardly cheerful in an attempt to cover your uncertainty as you grabbed an afghan from the couch and draped it around his shoulders. 

“Thanks.” He pulled the blanket down onto his lap without looking at you. “But maybe I should just do this myself.” 

“You’re never gonna get this loose on your own, not without scissors,” you warned, plucking at the knot around the last burr in his hair. “I’ll just, um — I’ll try to be more gentle.” 

“Maybe just go for it,” he said. “Get it over with.” His voice had gone all high-pitched and strained, like he was on the verge of a panic attack. If this was how much he disliked physical contact, no wonder he always avoided hugging you. 

You tried to go quickly, figuring that one quick moment of pain was better than another ten minutes of making Spencer uncomfortable. In your nervousness, you ended up tugging the burr out much more abruptly than you’d intended, and Spencer let out this rough, low, choked-off sound. Before you could apologize, he was jerking away from you, curled in on himself with his shoulders up around his ears like he was worried you were going to hit him, and — 

“Sorry,��� he said, voice cracking. 

— what? 

“Spence?” you said tentatively. “What—”

He was still just curled up on the floor in a ball of gangly limbs, but he half-turned to you, twisting around. He wouldn’t make eye contact, though; he was staring intently at the pillow that was on the couch next to you. It felt weird, looking down at him like this, so you slid down onto the floor, hoping it wouldn’t spook him. He shifted back slightly, but at least he didn’t flinch away. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t — this was a bad idea.” 

The profiler in you couldn’t help but notice a few details. He was blushing, for starters. His lower lip was red where he’d been biting it, and — this was the part that surprised you most — his pupils were huge. 

You knew what Spencer looked like when he was panicking, and this wasn’t it. 

“Oh,” you breathed. “Oh.” 

He looked down at his lap, frowning as he played with the loose thread in the cuff of his sweater. 

“Sorry,” he repeated. “I know you don’t feel the same way, I wasn’t trying to — I didn’t realize it would be like that, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, and—”

“Wait, what?” 

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable! I shouldn’t have asked—”

“I don’t feel the same way about what?” 

“I know you’re not attracted to me,” Spencer said, barely audible. 

“You’re… you…what?” 

He looked up, at that, genuinely startled. There was something sweet and vulnerable shining in his eyes, and your heart was racing. You slid a little bit closer, so that your knees were almost touching Spencer’s as you faced each other, cross-legged. 

“I thought you knew.” His hushed, croaky voice broke on the last word. “I thought I was being obvious.” 

You gaped at him for a second before letting out a sharp, hysterical giggle. 

He ducked his head again, hiding behind a curtain of hair, but not before you saw the hurt expression that flashed across his features. 

“No, that’s not—” you blurted out. “Spence. Spencer.” 

“Forget it,” he said sharply, his body going tense like he was about to bolt. “Can we just forget this happened?” 

Before you could think better of it, you reached out and pushed a few curls back behind his ear, and then you grabbed, twisting your fingers in his hair to tug him forward. You cut off the startled noise he made with a clumsy, eager kiss. 

The angle was all wrong, both of you leaning forward awkwardly, but it felt like sparks all down your spine.

You pulled away just far enough to get the words out: “I thought I was being obvious.”  

Then Spencer was surging closer on his hands and knees, crowding into your space, until you had a lapful of rumpled doctor pressing you back against the couch. He cupped your jaw with gentle spidery fingers, gaze locked on your mouth, and leaned in slowly like he was still waiting for you to push him away. 

There was nothing awkward about it this time. If the first kiss was sparks, this was fireworks — it was such a goddamn cliche you wanted to kick yourself for thinking it, but it was true. Your head was spinning. Every pillowy press of his lips and soft slide of his tongue seemed to steal the breath from your lungs. 

By the time you broke apart you were panting, but at least you weren’t the only one. Spencer’s chest heaved as he pulled away. He was still staring at your mouth like he couldn’t help himself. Part of you wanted to kiss him again and maybe never stop, but another part of you was paralyzed, trying to process the fact that this was actually happening. 

You just wanted to put the world on pause so that you could memorize everything: the way he licked his lips, the smell of his laundry detergent, the barely-perceptible movement of his pulse — you’d never seen that before because you’d never been this close to him before. You wanted to hold onto it, even the less-than-perfect details — the soundtrack of buzzy Dalek screeching in the background — the way you were folded together on the floor, all too-long legs and bony elbows, which was going to get uncomfortable fast.  

Spencer seemed to feel the same way. He grazed the pad of his thumb over your lower lip, then followed the curve of your smile out to your temple and traced the shell of your ear with careful fingertips. When he brushed his curled-up fingers along the ridge of your cheekbone, you turned your head and kissed his knuckles.  

His hand came to rest on your shoulder, and you wrapped your fingers around his wrist, holding it in place, feeling the blood and bones shifting under the skin.  

“You really didn’t know?” you whispered. 

He shook his head shyly and gave you one of those incandescent smiles that always made your heart race. “No idea.” 

“I thought you were just ignoring it to spare my feelings,” you confessed. 

“I thought you were doing that.”  

“I thought you were good at your job!” you laughed. “Aren’t you supposed to be a genius or something?” 

“I think I have a blind spot, where you’re concerned.” He was blushing again. “But I was so distracted by you that I walked into a bush! How did you not —” 

“I’m the one who stares at you all the time like a creep.” 

“You thought you were being creepy?” he said sheepishly. “As soon as you started touching my hair — oh my god that’s embarrassing.” 

“That’s not the word I would’ve used.” 

You tangled your fingers in his curls, tugging experimentally. His breath hitched. 

Both of you were utterly still for a moment, watching each other, and the tension between you seemed to fill the air like a living thing. You were excruciatingly aware of all the places your bodies were touching.

You considered all the places you could touch. It would be so easy. You could tug him in, kiss him, melt into each other… there were so many possibilities, suddenly, and there was something incredible about that: the electricity, the excitement, the moment of pure potential in the pause between certainty and action. 

Spencer sighed, long and shaky, and you were so close that you could feel the current of exhaled air. 

“I couldn’t think straight,” he murmured, with a twitch of a smile. “That doesn’t happen to me often.” 

“So you didn’t know…” 

You scritched your fingernails down his scalp, marveling at the way he shivered and swayed closer like he was hypnotized. He curled his hand around the side of your neck, thumb slowly stroking the hinge of your jaw. 

“I knew I liked it,” he confessed. “But — within a certain context? Not out of nowhere like that. I didn’t think it would be... like that.” 

“Like what?”

“Intense.”  

“Yeah?” 

“But I think maybe it’s just you.” His eyes had gone all glassy and heavy-lidded, and you could barely breathe. “Maybe you drive me crazy no matter where you’re touching me.” 

“I can think of a few ways to test that hypothesis.” 

You caught a glimpse of his grin, but then he pressed his forehead to yours and his features went blurry, too close for you to focus.

“Never really thought I’d be into dirty talk, but if you’re going to start quoting the scientific method…” 

“Funny, most of the time you never shut up,” you said, giddy and overwhelmed. 

The tip of his nose brushed yours. There was maybe an inch of space between your mouths, and you wanted to close that gap so badly it felt like a physical ache. 

“I mean, if you want me to start rattling off statistics—” 

“Spencer.” You fisted both hands in his hair, tugging sharply, and he shuddered. “Take a hint.” 

“Blind spot, remember?” he whispered, lips brushing yours as they shaped the words, feather-light and maddening. 

“You know, for a genius—” you started, but he kissed you, hungry and sweet like he was making up for lost time, until you’d completely forgotten what you were going to say. 

.

.

There is now a sexy follow-up here! 

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If you enjoyed this, please reblog or leave a message! 

[onlyfreds]

I Told You to Behave | F.W.

Title: I Told You to Behave

Requested: Yes/No

Summary: We all know that Fred has trouble behaving

A/N: A huge thank you to Holly for sending me the prompt that inspired this fic! I had so much fun writing this and I hope that I did this justice.

As soon as I wrote down the concluding sentence of my essay, I threw my quill on the table as I leaned back on my chair, breathing a sigh of relief.

I then heard a small knock on the dorm room door, thinking it was one of my roommates I immediately answered, “Come in!”

But, instead of Angelina or Katie or Alicia, the person who came in was none other than my handsome, lovable, sweet, caring (and did I mention handsome?) boyfriend, Frederick Gideon Weasley.

I smiled, my mood immediately being uplifted, while I lazily pushed my chair away from the table, standing up and walking over to him as I wrapped my arms around his torso and breathed in his scent.

“Hey darling.” He cooed with a small smile, combing his fingers through my hair.

“What have you been up to?” He asked.

I looked up at him, “Just finished that 12-foot essay for Transfiguration.”

“How about you?” I then asked, “What brings you here?”

He raised a brow, “What brings you here? She asks. I missed you. Isn’t that obvious? Why else would I be here?”

I shrugged, giving him a small smile, “Dunno, maybe you need something from me?”

Fred gasped as he placed a hand over his heart, feigning offence, “How could accuse me of such a deed?! Honestly woman, you call yourself my girlfriend.”

I laughed, pressing a small kiss on his lips, “I’m just joking love. Besides, I know how clingy you could be.”

“Hey!” He protested, “You’re clingier.”

I stuck his tongue out at him, “Am not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“Am not.”

Fred rolled his eyes, knowing that I wouldn’t back down because of how stubborn I could get. He crashed our lips together, causing me to stumble back slightly from the force of the kiss.

He sunk his teeth on my bottom lip, nibbling it gently, causing me to moan softly against his mouth.

He placed a hand at the back of my head while I rested my hands on his chest. While he deepened the kiss we slowly walked backwards until my back hit the wall.

The two of us pulled apart, breathless and the temperature of the room rising up by a few degrees.

I looked up at him, feeling my cheeks being painted a tint of pink, “Is that your way of telling me to shut up?”

He grinned sheepishly, “Maybe?”

I giggled, “Then maybe you should shut me up more often.”

Fred smirked, leaning closer that I could practically feel his breath fanning over my face, “What if I shut you up now?”

I bit my lip, feigning innocence, “What’s stopping you?”

My boyfriend was about to reconnect our lips, when a knock on the door caused him to jump slightly.

“Oi Fred!” The familiar voice of his twin could be heard from the other side of the door, “Are you in there?”

Fred muttered something about wrong timing as he answered, “I’m kinda busy at the moment.”

“Well, now’s not the time to be making babies.” His twin retorted, “This product needs your immediate attention. Emphasis on immediate.”

“Why don’t attend to it?” Fred asked, rolling his eyes.

“I have a date with Angelina you oaf! Now, stop your baby-making, get your arse here and fix this.”

“Fine.” Fred huffed as he opened the door and took the box from George.

I sat down on the edge of my bed while Fred sat down on the floor and starting to figure out what was wrong.

“So much for the mood.” I said with a small laugh, moving to sit down in front of him.

“This fever fudge has been on trial for weeks.” He groaned, looking over the ingredients of the product again.

“What’s wrong with it?” I asked, resting my chin on the open palm of my hand.

He frustratingly ran a hand through his hair, making it even messier, “It malfunctions. Once you eat it, your temperature will rise up to 40 degrees. Then within mere minutes it’ll go back down to your normal temperature even without the cure.”

I reached out my hand, “Can I see the list?”

He nodded, handing me the piece of parchment as I read over the messy, but thankfully eligible, handwriting.

“That’s why.” I muttered once I’ve finished reading the whole list.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Fred asked as I handed it back to him.

“You’re missing an ingredient.” I explained, “That’s why it malfunctions.”

“What ingredient?” He asked.

I shrugged, “Just a mandrake leaf. Though, I’ve run out of stock. I’ll go ask Hermione if she has some.”

We then started making the potion again, now all we needed was the mandrake leaf.

I walked towards the door and before leaving to Hermione’s dorm, I warned my boyfriend, “Whatever you do. Don’t add anything else to the potion. You behave until I get back with the mandrake leaf.”

Fred nodded, giving a mock salute, “Yes Ma’am!”

I playfully rolled my eyes at him before shutting the door behind me.

(Fred’s POV)

As soon as the door closed, I looked back down at the parchment in my hand, double checking the whole process to make sure that we did it right.

I took a glance at the bubbling potion that was sitting in the cauldron, that’s strange. If I wasn’t mistaken the potion had to be orange, not purple.

I went over the list again and thought that we’ve must’ve added a little less unicorn horn powder than required

Unscrewing the jar, I was about to add a dash of the powder when I stopped in my tracks remembered what my girlfriend told me.

“Whatever you do. Don’t add anything else to the potion. You behave until I get back with the mandrake leaf.”

I hesitated, the ladle hovering above the cauldron.

She did say that I should wait for her, but I’m pretty sure that nothing will go wrong if I just add a dash, right?

Right?

I sighed, quickly tipping over the ladle, watching the powder drop into the potion.

I waited a minute, but nothing seemed to happen.

At that moment, I realized that I should’ve listened.

Fireworks started to explode from the potion, bouncing off the walls and knocking stuff over.

Once the fireworks disappeared, the room was a mess. I mean a literal mess.

Before I could think of a solution to make it look like that nothing happened, I saw the door knob turn.

She was back. I was dead.

(Reader’s POV)

“Thanks Hermione!” I called after the girl as she headed down to Ron and Harry.

I then opened the door to my dorm, only to see a wreck in front of me and my boyfriend with the look of a guilty puppy.

“What in the name of Godric Gryffindor happened here Freddie?” I asked, staring at him agape.

He gave a shy smile, “I may have added a dash of unicorn horn powder to the potion.”

I glared at him as I took out my wand and waved it, the room cleaning itself up, “What did I say?”

He seemed to cower a bit, “You told me to behave.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, “And what did you do?”

Fred gave a small, innocent smile, “The exact opposite.”

I sighed, suddenly remembering my Transfiguration essay and rushing immediately towards the table. I let out a sigh of relief, seeing that the essay was perfectly fine. I tucked it away in my bag before any damage could be made.

I was aware of Fred staring at me with big doe eyes, silently begging me to forgive him.

I gave him the silent treatment, fixing up the rest of the stuff until the room was back to its natural glory.

I suddenly felt a pair of arms wrap around my waist, breathing in Fred’s scent as he rested his cheek on my shoulder, his hair tickling my ear.

I looked at him, once again seeing those big doe eyes.

“I’m sorry.” He said, almost in a whisper, “I should’ve listened to you.”

I licked my lips, “You’re lucky the essay I worked on for three hours didn’t get ruined.”

Fred’s eyes lighted up, “Do you forgive me?”

I playfully rolled my eyes at him, “I’m talking to you now, aren’t I?”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to my cheek, “See? You can’t stay mad at me for long?”

I raised a brow at him, “You want to test that theory out?”

His eyes widened, shaking his head vigorously, “No thanks.”

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝:

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[fangirlfics]

Trouble Sleeping (Loki x reader)

I swear if this deletes for a third time Im gonna cry 

KINDA A SLOW BURN BOIS

also I didn’t finish reading it over for mistakes bc I’m lazy 

summary: y/n and Loki used to be very close friends and sometimes when she had bad nightmares he’d use his magic to calm her mind, a few years have passed and they’ve grown apart. Her nightmares come back and hesitantly she seeks Loki’s help again 

word count: 3,592 wahahahaha

y/n leaned over one of the balconies that overlooked the kingdom’s private garden. The weather was perfect, the temperature ideal, sky blue, and the plants were all thriving feet below her. Despite the scenery however y/n’s attention was fixated elsewhere. 

Down in the depths of the garden, propped up on one of the fancy golden benches was the youngest Asgardian prince-Loki. His dark raven hair was combed back as he turned to the next page in his novel, the cover matching the shade of green displayed on his clothes. y/n couldn’t help but sigh as she watched the handsome prince, they had once had an unbreakable bond. It was always Loki and y/n-best friends, one wouldn’t be seen without the other. But somewhere among their late teenage years, Loki had become more cold and distant towards y/n-leaving her alone in the giant halls of the castle to wander alone. That’s when her and Thor’s relationship grew stronger-she had always been friends with the God of Thunder but after her and Loki’s relationship crumbled to pieces he was there to cheer her up. 

“Oh there you are!” Thor’s voice boomed-pulling y/n from her daydream. y/n glanced once more at Loki before turning her attention to her tall friend. “I was looking for you!” He beamed. 

“What can I do for you, your highness?” y/n asked with a playful voice.

Thor smiled, putting his hands together before continuing, “I was hoping that you would join me and-” his words faded as he glanced down to the gardens and caught sight of Loki. y/n’s attention soon turned to the railing in front of her as she traced her fingers along it’s smooth surface. “You still watch him.” Thor told her, his normally enthusiastic voice was now dry and serious. “How long have you been thinking of him?”

y/n furrowed her eyebrows, playing with her fingers. “I never stopped.” She confessed, “I know it’s foolish but I can’t help it, I..miss him more than I can even begin to explain.”

Thor was silent as he watched the girl glance back down at the gardens then to the sky. “Let’s go...horseback riding.” He suggested, getting y/n attention. “To lift your spirits, we can go with Sif a-”

“No.“ y/n blurted out, “nobody else-I don’t want to embarrass myself again by falling off my horse.“

Thor chuckled, “nobody is going to think low of you-” he looked at y/n once more sensing her silent plea ”very well then, just us.” He agreed, making her smile.

“Thank you.” She laughed, giving him a hug. It caught Thor by surprise but he then loosely wrapped his arms around y/n in return. “Thank you for everything,” y/n whispered, “really, I don’t know what’d I’d do without you. I’m blessed to have a friend like you.”

“Of course.” 

Neither of the two friends noticed that down in the gardens Loki clenched his jaw, snapping his book shut and silently retreated to his room-they also didn’t notice the pair of blue eyes staring through the window at them, when they returned laughing on horseback. 

_____________________________________________________________

 There was fire everywhere, thick black smoke made it impossible for her to breath. She was choking-desperate for air. She fell to the ground as the fire closed in quickly-it’s heat trapping her in the room. There was no hope, no help was coming and it was impossible to escape, with a loud crack the ceiling caved in leaving her trapped screaming out as the furious flames burned her alive. 

y/n woke up with a start, beads of sweat lined her forehead although her room was cool and she found that her hands were shaking. Realizing it was just a dream she lied back down, covering her face with her hands as she tried desperately to fall back asleep. She got no more sleep that night.

The same thing happened again in the coming days and three days later while in training, y/n who was running on less than four hours of sleep was doing rather well. In one quick movement she jumped up-kicking the sword right out of Fandral’s grip. 

“Very good!” Volstagg commented from across the room.

“Yes.” Fandral agreed, “show me that move and I’ll show you some of mine.” He winked.

“Just give me a time and place.” y/n responded playfully, earning a laugh. 

“Impressive.” Fandral commented at her response. (she normally responded to his joke flirting with an eye roll) 

“Yes impressive.” Loki commented from behind Fandral. “That y/n can apparently chase after two men at once.” He said this while staring casually at Thor. Sif went stiff inder the tension and Thor opened his mouth but y/n spoke first.

“I’m sorry?” 

“Well by the looks of it, you can’t seem to decide between Thor and-” 

“Brother that’s enough.” Thor warned, taking a step forward.

“I’m just putting out a warning, you do know what they say about these sort of things.” Loki remarked, not meeting her eyes.

“You know full well that I am not chasing after anyone.” y/n said, growing aggravated. 

“It sure seems that way.”He then opened the door to the room and left.

“You know what?” y/n responded, dropping her sword to the ground with a loud clang “I am tired of this.”

 “y/n I think it best if you ignore him.” Sif spoke up, “nobody is accusing you of anything, we all know you aren’t that sort of person-”

“Thank you Sif, but I am not taking this.“ y/n exited the room in pursuit of Loki, who was a few paces ahead of her walking calmly. 

“I don’t like being followed.“ He simply called out to her, because his room was only about a minute walk away from the training room he reached it fairly quickly.

“What is your problem?“ y/n asked him, putting her foot in between the door and it’s frame as Loki was about to shut it.

“I don’t have a problem, now if you’d excuse me I’d like you to leave me alone.“ 

 “Then leave me alone.” She huffed, “hold your silvertongue and stop acting as if you’re above me because you’re not.”

“Is that all?“ He asked her calmly, “you’re done with your childish tantrum?” 

“Oh you are so-“ y/n narrowed her eyes.

“So what?“ Loki asked with an eye roll.

“Terrible.“ y/n blurted, earning a cold laugh from the God of Mischief.

“So I’ve been told.“ He stated bored.

“No, I mean you’re really terrible and for so many reasons.”

“Such as?“  

“You want a list?“ y/n asked with a bitter laugh, “ok well you think you’re better than everyone and you’re not, you poke fun at other people because it’s amusing to you and-and everyone-I mean everyone thinks that you’re a snake, ever since we were younger, and I can’t believe I’m just now realizing that..they’re probably right.“ He swallowed hard furrowing his eyebrows, “you used to be my best friend Loki, I’d defend you from people’s accusations when you weren’t around and..I wasted my time because you are everything people say you are and worst.“ She saw the look in his eye, she hurt him-good now he understood how it felt. 

Loki glanced away-looking down at the girl again. “Is that all?” He asked, trying desperately to remain collected. y/n scoffed. “You may think you know me but I know you much more, don’t forget, I’ve been inside your head. People may think I’m a bad person but I can live with that, you on the other hand can’t stand the fact that someone might not like you, so much so that you’ll break down about it. You’re a weak fighter, you’re not as clever or as witty as you seem to think, and frankly I don’t understand the fascination Thor seems to have with you, you’re nothing special.”  

y/n pulled her foot from the doorway. What happened to us? She was about to cry and she did not want him seeing that. “Is that all?” She asked, reciting his previous question.

“Yes.“ He spat coldly. 

“Good.“ She turned to walk away as Loki stayed in his place trying to keep the impression that he didn’t care.

Late at night y/n tossed and turned in her bed, trying to fall asleep after waking up from a particularly realistic dream-she had thought that by laying still she’d trick her body into falling asleep but that didn’t happen. She knew that she had been able to power through the last few days with almost no sleep-but she’d certainly crash if she didn’t get any sleep soon. The thought of making a visit to Loki for help came to her mind, but she really didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing she wanted/needed his help. Screw it. She thought after another couple of hours, her clock read 2:35 as she swung her legs over her bed and slipped on her slippers and robe. 

The halls were dark and empty except for the occasional guards, which she was careful to avoid (she didn’t want to raise any suspicion). Thank God her room was only a three minute walk from Loki’s. It was once she was already in front of Loki’s door that she started getting second thoughts, but she was there already and the worst that could happen was getting the door slammed in her face or no answer. She raised her cold knuckle, letting it hover over the door’s fine wood before knocking. “It’s y/n..” She announced barely above a whisper, “trust me I really don’t want to ask for your help but I see no other option an-”

The door opened a small crack. “you do realize what time it is, right?” Loki’s annoyed voice asked-he didn’t sound like he had just woken up, maybe he was having trouble sleeping also.

“I know.” At her response Loki opened the door wider, revealing himself in a pair of emerald colored pajamas. “Look I know-” at the sound of approaching footsteps (guards) Loki stepped aside, giving her a cue to get in. She did, turning to face him one he closed the door again-his back facing the door he put his hands on his hips.

“What do you want?”

“I can’t sleep.” She said sheepishly, “I just-I’m getting the same nightmares again and I thought that maybe just this once you could, you know..” She put hands up, wiggling her fingers to imitate magic.

Loki rolled his eyes, “first off that’s not at all how magic looks, second why should I help you?”

“Just this once!“ y/n practically begged, “please. I’ve have not been sleeping at all I just need one hour. I won’t make you sleep on my couch like I did when we were younger, you can just...alter my thoughts or something and I’ll leave and-” 

“Fine.“ Loki agreed, grumpily. He walked back over to his bed, getting in between the covers on the left side. “Well?“ He asked when she stared blankly at him. He rolled his eyes again, “Obviously if you go back to your room I won’t be able to sense when I have to alter your thoughts and you’ll just come back to make a racket when you have another nightmare.“ y/n nodded slowly, making her way to the right side of the bed. “Besides it’s a big bed, just stay on that side-away from me.” She laid down, hesitant at first as she tightened her robe around herself. Loki leaned over, placing a finger and thumb over her temples to enter her mind. 

When she woke up she was in the same exact position that she was in when she went to bed and Loki was standing directly above her looking annoyed once again. It was still dark outside as he looked down at her from where he stood. “It’s about time, I’ve been trying to wake you up for the last two minutes.”

“What time is it?“

“6:05..the castles about to start waking up, you should leave before more people get uo to avoid being seen.“ y/n nodded in agreement. 

“Ok“ she walked to his door, turning to watch as he laid back down in his bed. “And Loki..“

“What?“ He sighed.

“Thank you.“ She said softly, leaving the room right after. Loki was left surprised.

“Look I know I said just once-” y/n whispered that night outside of Loki’s door, it was past 2 a.m. again, but surprisingly Loki let her in again.

“The faster you stop pestering me, the better.“ Loki told her harshly. He had woken her up at 6 a.m. again like he had done the the last time. The time after that Loki woke her up at 7 and the time after that she had woken up past 8 to see Loki sitting in a chair some feet from her sharpening his knives-when she had asked him why he hadn’t woken her up he had simply reminded that he could just teleport her back to her room, that way nobody would know she had spent the night there.

Flash forward a month later, y/n tiptoed to Loki’s room in her nightgown again, the nights were getting hotter which had led to her to leave her robe behind. When she had reached Loki’s room she didn’t need to knock, since he now left it unlocked for her. 

Once she laid down on the right side of the bed (more towards the middle now rather than all the way on the edge) Loki laid down about a foot from her. They didn’t go to bed right then however, since they had formed a habit of talking before falling asleep. “Have you been sleeping better?” Loki asked the girl beside him.

“yes.” 

“Good...”

y/n rolled onto her side to face Loki, “Thank you again.” He nodded. “You know for someone who hates me, you’re actually quite kind to me.” The corner of Loki’s mouth folded up slightly,

“I don’t hate you...” He rolled over onto his side to face her, “but what I do hate-“ he then had explained the entire plot of a book just to express his hatred for one detail in it. 

y/n woke up in the middle of the night with a start, her nightmares had came back. As it turned out Loki wasn’t in the room but when he got back with a glass of water he noticed she was off right away. “I’m sorry.” He quickly apologized, sitting beside her, “I was just-I didn’t think-”   

“I know, it’s fine.“ y/n told him, but his hand was still on her shoulder and his blue eyes still held worry in them. “I’m just-I’m going back to bed...“ Loki nodded, watching as she laid down again. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?“ She nodded.

As she began drifting off she felt Loki take her hand in his. Later on in the night y/n woke up randomly, but she wasn’t facing Loki anymore-instead she was facing his dim window, she felt warm but not from the covers and to her surprise she realized that the prince’s arm was around her waist, keeping her close. Their legs were tangled mess at the bottom of the bed and she could hear his slow breathing as he slept peacefully. She looked around slowly, trying to figure out a way to move away to avoid the embarrassment when he wakes up-but just as she began to shift around she heard him speak up. “What time is it?” up. 

“Sorry...” She apologized growing red, “I don’t know how-“  

“It’s fine.“ She heard Loki whisper. 

“It is?“

“This is quite comfortable.“ He whispered again, then he moved slightly closer-resting his head on her shoulder and he fell asleep again-she assumed that he was half awake and didn’t fully process what had happened. She decided it didn’t matter and fell asleep again, after all he wasn’t wrong-it was comfortable.  

There was a loud noise that woke y/n right up, making her jump. Now she realized that she was facing Loki again, her arms were wrapped around his neck like in a hug, his head was nuzzled in the crook of her neck-their legs still a tangled mess. Bang! Bang! There it was again, she lifted her head, looking towards the door as it came again-bang! Bang! 

“Loki” She whispered, gently shaking his sleeping form. He ignored it, pulling her closer in response instead. “Loki, someone’s at the door.” She whispered, trying not to laugh. He sighed looking up towards his door.

“Just ignore it, they’ll go away it’s probably a servant or-”

“Loki!” Thor’s voice came from the other side of the door, “Loki, I know you’re in there! Open the door.” Loki rolled his eyes, standing up to make his way towards the door. 

He opened the door a few inches, “what do you want?” He hissed.

“I-” Thor paused, “are wearing your nightwear?”

“Why is that of any importance-what do you want?”

“er, Loki is there someone in there with you?“ Thor asked. 

y/n held her breath, afraid that somehow Thor would hear her from the doorway. “I-no!” Loki snapped, “What are you talking about?”

“Alright, alright I apologize. I’m here to ask if you have seen y/n? I’ve been searching for her, she’s normally turned up somewhere at this time it’s past 10.” 

“No I don’t know where she is, I haven’t seen her. Check the garden, she’s most likely wandering around there.“ He shut the door, turning back to y/n. 

“Past 10?“ y/n asked, covering her mouth, “I should’ve been awake two hours ago.” Loki shrugged. “Can you teleport me back to my room, I should go to the gardens since Thor’s looking for me.” Loki looked at the ground with an unfamiliar look in his eyes before nodding. “Thank you.”

The girl had spent more time with Thor training than she had expected that day, leading her to take an extra long shower at night to get clean. She hadn’t realized until she looked at her clock that it was past 10-normally she’d already be at Loki’s room by now. Quickly she dried her hair and changed into her nightwear. 

She was about to leave and opened her door and unexpectedly Loki was there with his hand raised looking like he was about to knock. They stared at each other for a moment before she spoke up, “Loki? What are you doing here?” 

He glanced to the side, not wanting to meet here eyes as she awaited his response, “I thought..” he said glancing at the ground before back to her, regaining his composure “that you-“

“Weren’t coming?“ She finished for him, he nodded.

“So I came to see if you were ok, I’ll leave.“

“Wait, no.“ She told him, grabbing his wrist and taking him by surprise, “I was just coming it was just taking me longer, but you can sleep here if you want since you’re already here...?” He nodded in agreement, stepping into her room.

He settled himself into the bed, opening his arms for her to crawl into which she quickly did. The two laid there for a moment, listening to the quietness as Loki slowly brushed through her hair with his fingers.      

“remember the other day when I said that you were terrible?“ y/n suddenly asked, getting Loki’s attention. He stopped running his fingers through her hair. 

“Yes, why do you ask?“ He responded cautiously. 

“I was just mad at you. I’m sorry.“

He took a moment to think to himself, “I didn’t mean what I said either."

“Can I ask you something?” y/n asked after a while later.

“What?”

“Why did you push me away?” She asked, shifting herself to meet his eyes.

Loki sighed-only it wasn’t from being aggravated this time. He backed up a few inches from y/n-staring straight up at the ceiling. “It’s because..”

“Because what?”

“I had noticed that you and Thor were becoming closer and decided to..abandon you before you did me. I thought it’d hurt less that way.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, everyone always seems to choose Thor over me, I just assumed you would, in time, do the same.“ He confessed, still not meeting her gaze. 

“Loki...“ she set her hand on his shoulder waiting for him to look at her. “I would never abandon you for Thor, sure Thor is my friend but so is Fandral, so is Volstagg, so is Sif and I’m not abandoning anyone for them.“

He nodded.

“And tonight..“ y/n spoke up again, “when you thought I wasn’t coming-“

“I assumed you wouldn’t need me anymore, especially after you had spent so much time with Thor.“

“Loki!“

“What?“

“Don’t be like that!“ y/n told him, sitting up, “I do need you! I’ll always need you, I need you don’ t doubt that, and not just because of stupid nightmares, because I care for you and I love you, ok?”

Loki smiled to himself, “you love me?“

“Yes you stupid-“ she stopped talking because Loki had leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss, taking no time to hesitate she leaned into him further deepening the kiss. After about a minute they pulled apart-resting their foreheads together. 

“I love you too.“

[obeyme-kaidii-writes]

Innocence

Mammon x gn!MC

Words - 1918

Content Warnings - so much fluff, mild angst, platonic cuddling, relationships open to interpretation

Prompt/Inspiration - Inspired by the Devilgram “One Too Many Insults”

Summary -  After spending the day at Purgatory Hall, you return home to learn that Mammon is missing.

AO3

It was Saturday evening and you were on your way home, after spending much of the day, at Purgatory Hall baking sweets with Luke. Since both of you shared a love for baking, it was something you often enjoyed together. And you went to Purgatory Hall to do it because cooking in the kitchen at the House of Lamentation also meant trying to keep 7 very nosey brothers (including 1 very hungry Beel) away long enough for you to finish.

You waved goodbye to Solomon, who had done you the courtesy of escorting you home after dinner, and let yourself inside to find absolute chaos waiting for you. Raised voices could be heard coming from the library area, so you headed there to see what all the fuss was about.

“Hey guys, I’m home.”

“MC!” Levi said, as he rushed over to greet you with a hug.

“Um, Levi? Is everything ok?” It was unusual enough for Levi to initiate any sort of physical contact when you were alone, so being hugged in front of everyone...mostly everyone...struck you as incredibly odd.

“Where’s Mammon?”, you asked, trying to catch a glimpse of Levi’s face as he pulled away. He refused to meet your eyes, and as you scanned the room you realized no one else was looking at you either. Finally Lucifer stepped forward, attempting to explain the situation.

“Apparently there was a bit of a misunderstanding today, and he was accused of stealing something of Levi’s.”

“Oookkkayy...and where is he…?” Mammon being accused of theft wasn’t exactly unusual. Even though he was only ever guilty less than half the time, that didn’t stop everyone from always blaming him whenever pretty much anything went missing.

“He left around lunch and hasn’t come back,” offered Satan.

“Lunch? That’s only 8 hours ago. On a Saturday. That doesn’t really seem like anything to worry about.”

“He may or may not have said that he was fed up with us for never believing him and always ganging up on him,” added Asmodeus, “...and something about never coming back.”

Ah, now things are starting to make more sense , you thought.

“So you all cornered him, accused him of something he didn’t do, he ran off, and then you found out he was actually innocent and now feel guilty because he wasn’t back before I got home? Is that about the gist of it?”, you asked, your anger rising as you watched the 6 men in front of you fidget and shuffle uncomfortably while you waited for a response.

“That would be one way to describe the situation, yes,” answered Lucifer, finally.

You heaved a sigh and pulled your DDD out of your pocket to see that the battery had died sometime earlier that afternoon. You were annoyed with yourself for not noticing sooner. The lack of notifications you received all day should have been a clue, but you had been having so much fun you let yourself carry on without checking in with anyone. You hoped Mammon wasn’t now mad at you too for thinking you had been ignoring him.

“I’m going to charge this and see if I can get a hold of him. The rest of you just stay out of my room. I’m not in the mood,” you said as you walked off.

You really shouldn’t have been surprised by what you heard, but part of you always tried to have faith in the brothers that they would actually learn from their mistakes.

For as long as you had been there, (and as you later learned, long before) Mammon always took the brunt of the blame for anything that went wrong, even when he wasn’t actually responsible or even involved. It was probably one of the first things you noticed when you had arrived here and were introduced to him. After getting to know him though, you realized just how hard he tried to do the right thing and even when he messed up, his heart was usually in the right place. Not to say he never actually did any of the things he was accused of - but more often than not, he was innocent or just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

As you made your way to your room, you hoped that Mammon didn’t actually mean that he would never come back and that it had only been something he had said in the heat of the moment. You knew how sensitive he could be sometimes, and found yourself growing increasingly worried that maybe he did mean it and you wouldn’t get to see him again or even say goodbye properly when it was time for you to return to the human realm.

With those thoughts in mind, you entered your room, only for an arm to shoot out of the darkness and cover your mouth, pinning you to the door as soon as it had closed. You had been about to scream when you heard a familiar voice speaking to you.

“It’s me! Just me! Keep it down, alright?”, Mammon said in a loud whisper, as he tried to keep you restrained until he was sure you were calm. He knew if his brothers heard you, they would come rushing in to check without even knocking, and he really wasn’t ready to deal with them yet.

As soon as you recognized Mammon’s voice, your body relaxed, and you gave him a small nod as you placed your hands on the one held over your mouth to reassure him you weren’t going to scream. He then released you with a sigh, only for you to wrap your arms around his neck and hug him close.

“I was worried about you. I just heard what happened.”

“...I tried to call ya, but you didn’t answer,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist and returning your hug.

“I’m sorry, my DDD died and I didn’t notice until I got back. I wasn’t ignoring you, I promise.”

Mammon nodded in understanding before letting you go and turning on the lights to your room. You released your grip on him as well, but left your hands resting on his shoulders to keep him near.

“Can you tell me why you’re here? All your brothers think you left.”

“Ummm...well...about that…” he gave a nervous laugh and scratched the back of his neck, “I did leave…jus’ ya know...I couldn’t think of anywhere to go...so I came back.”

“...and hid in my room for the rest of the day?”

He nodded again, offering you a sheepish grin. You laughed and gave him another hug around the neck before taking his hand and leading him to your bed. Something about the fact he thought hiding in your room was “safe” warmed your heart and brought a smile to your face.

“So,” you said, kicking your shoes off and crawling into bed, motioning for Mammon to join you, “do you want to tell me what happened? I already heard their version, so I want to hear yours.”

Mammon blushed at your concern as he laid down beside you, resting his head on your chest and looping an arm around your waist. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, but the real reason he had waited in your room was because he knew you’d eventually come back and cuddle with him like you were doing now. It had taken him some time to get used to just how nice you were to him, but after awhile he started to seek you out just so he could be spoiled...if only a little...and preferably without his brothers around. Though sometimes seeing the looks on their faces as you showered him with praise or affection was worth the minor embarrassment of them watching the whole thing.

“I was just hangin’ out in my room listen’ to music when Levi barged in and started yellin’ at me. Something about some limited edition blah blah blah figurine. Said he bought two of ‘em but now he could only find one,” Mammon explained, while you began to comb your fingers through his hair, “I asked him why he thought it was me and he just said ‘of course it was you! Who else would it have been!’ and like, how does he know that huh? Just because he thinks I’m a scumbag doesn’t mean I steal from him all the time, ya know? Wasn’t even like that figurine was worth that much anyways...and he just goes accusing me without any proof! How is that fair? It ain’t!”

You listened carefully as Mammon vented his frustrations, carding your fingers through his hair in a slow and steady rhythm to help him relax.

“And they always do that ya know? Always accusin’ me without any proof, sayin’ I’m a money grubber and a scumbag and whatever other insult they can think up on the spot. Don’t matter how many times they find out they were wrong, or how many good things I do either. They always blame me when somethin’ goes wrong.”

“So Mammon...can I ask you something?”, you said, giving him a reassuring squeeze with your arms.

“Yeah?”

“Did you take the figurine?”

Mammon stiffened, “...umm...well...that’s not really the point is it? The point is he accused me without proper proof!...ya know…?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that confession, and hugged him closer to you. The more you thought about it, the more the entire situation seemed ridiculous. From Levi accusing Mammon of something (he was guilty of) without proof to Mammon hiding in your room all day to his brothers downstairs right now feeling guilty over chasing him off. It was just so...funny.

“Hey! Whattya laughin’ for? It ain’t funny!”

“Oh Mammon,” you laughed again as you hugged him tighter and placed a kiss on the top of his head. He never failed to keep things interesting for you, that’s for sure. And even though he was at fault, you knew this was about more than just him getting caught.

“Well, I suppose Levi did still accuse you without proof, and everyone else still ganged up on you, didn’t they? So I guess it’s alright to let them sit with their own guilt a little longer, don’t you think?”

“...maybe a little,” he said, trying to hide his smile.

“And don’t worry, we can figure out how to fix the mess with Levi’s figurine tomorrow. I’ll help you ok? So why don’t we just watch a movie for now and relax some, hmm?”

“No horror movies?”

“No horror movies.”

As Mammon watched you get up to grab your laptop, he thought about how glad he was that even though you learned the truth you were still being supportive. You didn’t lecture him like Lucifer would have, or mock him like Asmo might have. You simply promised to help him figure things out, without judgement.

And he knew he could always count on you to have his back and be there for him, regardless of the situation he found himself in. You always listened to him, and believed in him, sometimes even when he couldn’t believe in himself. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to tell you how thankful he was for that, and how much of a difference it made just to have one person on his side.

Maybe someday though, he thought, maybe someday he’d be able to tell you how he feels.

[ilalos]

Lavender dreams (Anthony Bridgerton x OC)-Part 1/3

Word count: 3.1k

Anthony stormed into his office after breakfast with his mother following close. The proper introductions were made when Miss Grace, or Gigi as she preferred to be called, entered the dining room; he had ignored the little somersault that attacked his heart when he made eye contact with the young girl and instead of acknowledging the feeling chose to finish eating as soon as humanly possible and left the table in a haste.

“How could you not notify me of this visit mother? The responsibility of finding her a suitable match falls on me and I know nothing about this girl, do you?” he tried to keep his voice down, but the exasperation he felt still showed in the form of harsh whispers.

“I didn’t tell you because I know she won’t have a problem finding a suitor that would be interested in her” Violet sat down tiredly looking at her exasperated son.

“And how are you so sure of that?”

“Well, she is an only daughter to a wealthy man, she is a well-read young woman and an amazing piano player, not to mention her dowry is obviously substantial” she gave him a pointed ‘I told you so’ glare “and of course, she is beautiful”

“Even worst then, we’ll have to make sure that whoever marries her-“

“We won’t do anything but I’ll make sure she loves the man she chooses to marry and he does her, that was Rose’s wish and that’s what I’ll do” she stood up not wanting to hear any more of her son’s antics.

Meanwhile, in the drawing-room things seemed to be running smoothly as Gigi read a novel and Eloise sat next to her reading the latest Lady Whistledown, while Benedict draws the pair in his sketchbook.

“Ugh! I can’t believe tomorrow is the day where our whole future is defined by the judgment of the queen” Eloise couldn’t keep her discontent in after reading the suppositions of who could be this season’s Incomparable “Can you believe it? Tomorrow our settling down begins” she sighed dramatically.

“Stop scaring the girl, Eloise” Benedict chastised with a smile, not looking up from his sketch.

“It’s not like I have a choice on the matter, so I try not to worry too much about it” Gigi gave her a small smile as if trying to comfort her.

“Right?! Society makes us feel like we have no choice, we either settle for a boring man who will hopefully be interesting enough to-“

“I don’t think she meant that she is pressured by society, dear sister” chuckled Benedict

“Oh, then pray tell me what you meant Grace”

“My father is very ill” started Gigi with a sad look as she let the book fall on her lap “I’m his only daughter and he wishes to see me married and in love before his passing”

Silence filled the room after Gigi finished speaking, she picked her book back up and resumed her reading when Eloise’s voice suddenly cut through the quiet atmosphere.

“You could marry one of my brothers, you know?” She said it more as thought said out loud than an actual suggestion and it caused Benedict to loudly scratch his pencil against the paper of his drawing.

“I don’t think that would be a wise suggestion sister” he racked his brain trying to come up with a way to explain how adamant he was on NOT getting married anytime soon “I for one wouldn’t want to be the brother in question, no offense Gigi”

“None taken” she giggled “I understand where you’re coming from Eloise but neither of your brothers seems prepared, or willing, to get married this season”

“Well it’s your loss, these dimwits may not look like much but they are somewhat intelligent and also very desirable matches according to Lady Whistledown”

“Well isn’t this a warm welcome?” Colin's voice startled the siblings and their guest as they didn’t expect him to arrive for another month.

Benedict was the first to stand and embrace his brother while his sister seemed to be torn between welcoming Colin and running to the Featherington’s residency to notify her best friend of his arrival, she knew Penelope would appreciate learning the news before the whole ton started whispering about it or even worse reading about it the next day. Standing up she chose to run to her friend’s home and also drag her guest along to not leave her alone with her brothers who were already deep in conversation.

“Tell mother we will be back for lunch!” She ran to the door with an iron grip around Gigi’s wrist only stopping to give a quick “Welcome home brother!”

“It was lovely to meet you!” That was all Gigi managed to get out before being dragged through the streets of London towards the Featherington home.

/////Time jump\\\\\

The picnic had gone wonderfully and Violet could not have been happier, surrounded by all her children and one grandchild. For a moment she forgot the expectations, the pressure of the next day’s events that signified the start of a new season that would, hopefully, be less dramatic than the last.

The men chatted about Colin’s travels as all the older men had already taken the same voyages, in way less innocent intents than him (read: brothel tour) as he seemed truly interested in the culture, the sights, and the history of the places he visited. Of course, he had met many women on his travels and he had laid with some of them but of that, he wouldn’t speak in such proximity to his mother and sisters.

Later that evening the girls had gone to pick up their debut dresses accompanied by the duchess to get as much advice as possible in how to be the Incomparable of the season, Daphne truly didn’t know how she had achieved that and if she had to be completely honest she only went to spend some time with her sister.

When the girls arrived back at the Bridgerton home, Violet decided it would be early supper and early bedtime for everyone because tomorrow was a crucial day for everyone’s life. Lady Bridgerton knew she couldn’t control what her sons would get up to in the late-night but she would make sure that her debutants were well rested before their presentation to the queen, and she made sure of it by personally escorting them to their shared room and verifying they had in fact gone to bed.

Way past the middle of the night Gigi woke up with a start after having a nightmare about her mother’s death, tears were running down her cheeks and her heart was hammering inside her chest so fast it was almost painful. She quickly looked to Eloise’s sleeping form and breathed a sigh of relief when she confirmed that the girl had not been awakened by her. Slowly and quietly Gigi got up from the bed and grabbed her robe, she needed some fresh air to calm down and maybe some milk.

Little tears were still falling from her eyes as she walked to the kitchen but the hammering of her heart had subsided by now, as she passed the office she noticed light coming from the room and with a frown, she went to see who was there at this ungodly hour. It was Anthony who was hunched over his desk holding an almost empty cup of liquor, his other hand supporting his head and messing his once perfectly combed hair, he was looking at some papers that were carelessly thrown over the desk surface with a deep frown.

“Lord Bridgerton is everything okay?” she knew she should’ve just continued her path to the kitchen but seeing him so concerned made her feel a dull ache in her chest.

He was startled by her voice, almost dropping his cup and lifting his head so quickly he got a little dizzy. He took a good look at her and realized a couple of things: first, she had been crying, and second, even in the simplest of robes with dried tears on her cheeks she looked breathtakingly beautiful.

“Miss Gillingham what are you doing awake at this hour?”

“I could ask you the same thing” she hadn’t meant to sound so sassy but her sleepy brain couldn’t process much formality at the moment.

“It’s nothing that concerns you” he said it with no intention of being harsh but her small wince let him know it came out that way “may I ask you, where were you heading to before stumbling into my office?”

“I was on my way to the kitchen to heat some milk, couldn’t sleep”

“I could help you with that” he surprised even himself with the suggestion because he knew he couldn’t even turn on the stove “stay here, I’ll go to the kitchen, it’s no place for a barefoot lady to be in”

She blushed and looked down at her feet that were in fact bare. He got up from his desk and walked up to where she was standing by the door, he gently pulled her inside the room and guided her to sit on the couch, silently instructing her to stay there before taking his leave for the kitchen. After he left she decided it would be nice of her to refill his drink, she grabbed the liquor bottle that sat atop one of the many papers on the desk and poured it in the cup. She knew she shouldn’t be reading what was written on the papers but her eyes couldn’t help but wander around the surface and soon realized what troubled Anthony, someone was stealing from the family.

“You didn’t need to do that, I could’ve poured it myself” she jumped a little when she heard his voice.

“Nonsense, you went into the trouble of getting me...cold? Milk” she had one look at the small glass bottle he held in his hand with a small smile.

“Ah yes” he chuckled “I didn’t want to bother a kitchen maid so cold milk it is”

“I appreciate the gesture Lord Bridgerton” she took the bottle from his hands as he approached her “I understand you not wanting to wake any of the kitchen staff as one of them is clearly stealing from you”

“What are you talking about? Such accusations are not to be said in such a lightly manner”

“I apologize, sir, I didn’t mean to anger you” she looked down at her feet and tears welled her eyes once again.

“What makes you think one of our kitchen staff is stealing from us?” He was genuinely curious about her answer, not sure if he’d believe it but nonetheless curious.

“Here” she pointed to a piece of paper and his breath hitched at her proximity “it says that you bought 50 baguettes from the bakery today”

“Yes, what about it?”

“Well I saw your table this morning and there were no baguettes there, in the picnic he had croissants and for dinner, there were, again, no baguettes” she felt proud of the way he looked down at her in what could only be described as awe “Baguette is a bread that must be eaten within the same day it is bought as it will get stale rather quickly, it is also an incredible amount of bread for a relatively small family to eat” she completed her explanation and stepped back to give him room to see it for himself.

“I believe you are correct but I must know, how did you know this?” All Anthony could think about was how wonderful it would be to have a wife that could understand such concepts of family economy.

“The same thing happened at our state a couple of years back, our housekeeper claimed to buy enormous quantities of food to get the extra coin herself”

“Who caught her?”

“My mom” she smiled “She said men would’ve never noticed because they had no idea how a kitchen works, she did and she taught me that being a good wife meant not only raising the children but also making sure everything in the home is working how it's supposed to, among other things”

“She sounds like a wonderful woman” he wanted to embrace her with how small and sad she looked but he refrained from doing so, it would be highly inappropriate.

“She was” a yawn tore through her and she suddenly realized just how tired she was “Well good night Lord Bridgerton, thank you for the milk”

He took the vessel from her hand, set it gently on the table, and offered his arm to accompany her to the door.

“Goodnight to you too, and please call me Anthony”

She looked up at him one last time before turning and padding to her bedroom as quietly as she could. Meanwhile, Anthony sat back at his desk and chuckled in disbelief, he had spent the past three hours trying to know where the sudden increase of expenses had come from and she had solved it after mere seconds of looking, she truly was a wonderful woman and would be an even better wife. He couldn’t help but think for a brief moment that she could perhaps be a wonderful wife for him.

Morning came quicker than expected and the house was filled with running maids preparing baths, horses being brushed, and food being made. Anthony fired their housekeeper, Violet wanted to kill him as he chose to do so at the worst possible time and that forced her to make her personal maid the housekeeper to keep things running smoothly on such an important date. The girls came down with their hair done wearing robes so they could eat before getting dressed, Violet didn’t want them to spill anything on them but most importantly she didn’t want to have either of the girls fainting in front of the queen due to hunger, so breakfast in a robe was the solution.

Disaster hit Lady Bridgerton’s mind as soon as she saw the way her firstborn looked at Grace, he looked at her as if he was in love with her. She had no problem in her son choosing to court the young heiress but it would look terrible if he were to court her while she was staying in their home, it would certainly give the wrong impression. She rose from the table and grabbed her eldest daughter by the elbow prompting her to follow her out to the hallway where she proceeded to explain that she needed her and her husband to take Grace to Lady Dunbury’s house.

“But why? Is our presence bothering you mother?”

“Of course not dearest, but I must get Grace out of the house to avoid a scandal” at her daughter’s confused face she continued “your brother seems to fancy her and I’m afraid if he chose to court her it would look terrible if she was to be living under the same roof as him”

Daphne understood her mother’s reasoning and agreed that it would be quite scandalous for a debutant to live in the same home as the man who courted her. Back in the dining room, the Duke of Hastings was getting worried by his wife’s absence so he ventured into the hallway to find her and her mother speaking in hushed voices.

“My love! I was just about to send for you” Daphne reached her hand out to her husband and he took it with a wary look “My mother has asked us to take over Grace’s season at Lady Danbury’s house, and I wanted to know if that may be possible”

He wanted to say no, he wanted to avoid staying the whole season under the scrutiny of the ton and also that of Lady Danbury, but he couldn’t deny his wife the chance to spend this time close to her family and for her to take such responsibility was a task he knew she wished to do to make her mother proud. So despite wanting to deny such request he smiled and instead said he’d be honored to help her with such task and would make arrangements to speak with Lady Danbury and send their belongings there while they went to de debutants presentation.

The presentation to the queen goes uneventful until Eloise walks in accompanied by her mother, even though she failed to aid in catching Lady Whistledown The Queen admired the young lady and provided her with a nod of approval, which was an enormous statement coming from the monarch. Next walked in Grace with Daphne and to no one’s surprise, she was deemed the Incomparable by the queen with a simple kiss to the forehead.

The news traveled fast and as soon as both ladies arrived at the ball in Lady Danbury’s home their dancing cards were filled with prospects, well Grace’s was because thanks to Anthony’s ‘assistance’ Eloise’s was impossibly blank. Daphne and Simon had decided to allow Gigi to dance with whoever she liked and they would worry about background checks when the dances turned into gentleman callers.

Anthony spent half of his attention taking good care of his sister and the other half was put into painfully watching Gigi dancing with different men, but what hurt the most was seeing that the man that made her smile the most was his own brother. He watched Colin take her first dance and couldn’t help the jealousy coursing through his veins as he saw them smiling and laughing as he twirled her around the dance floor. Perhaps that jealousy is what prompted him to abandon his sister’s side and approach the purple-eyed girl to ask for a dance.

“I’m so sorry Anthony but my dance card is full for the night” she was truly apologetic even though she had no way of knowing the eldest Bridgerton would want her to save a dance for him.

“May I see it?” He read through the list of names and chose to scratch over Benedict’s name knowing his brother had saved himself a dance with the girl only to save her from another dance with an impossibly boring gentleman, so he wouldn’t mind giving his dance up to his older brother.

“Is that allowed?” She asked with a smile.

“It is when he’s your brother” he dropped the card and handed back her pencil “Do me a favor and save me a dance on the next ball, and all others after that” with a final smile he left her to dance with the next gentleman and went back to his sister’s side.

Part 2

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I wanted to write this in 1 part buuuuut it came out longer than expected 😬 It’ll probably be like a 3-4 part story. If you took the time to read this I appreciate you :):):):):):):):):)

[pterodactylterrace]

Guys Like You Chapter 10

Title: Guys Like You

Chapter: Chapter 10

Chapter Summary: Story time.

 Rating: 18+ 

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy and loss. 

{Prologue} {Chapter 1} {Chapter 2} {Chapter 3} {Chapter 4} {Chapter 5} {Chapter 6} {Chapter 7} {Chapter 8} {Chapter 9} "Where do you want me?" Henry asked, pulling his shirt off and tossing it aside as he took in the small woman standing before him.

"We have two options. Either you kneel, or I need a ladder." Faye giggled, turning off the buzzing device and setting it on the edge of the sink. Henry knelt down obediently, raising a flirtatious brow at her as he made himself comfortable on his knees before her. Faye rolled her eyes at the man, picking up a comb and pulling it through his hair detangling the curls, unable to stop from giggling at his happy groans.

"Any last words to the curls?" Faye asked, threateningly turning the clippers back on.

"They'll grow back." Henry sighed, closing his eyes as she began to slowly run the buzzing device over his head, his curls falling away as she went.

"They'll grow back." Faye repeated, brushing the shorn hair from his shoulders. She made sure to leave his newly buzzed hair even, rubbing her hand over his now fuzzy scalp once she was finished.

"Well?" Henry sighed, peering up at her expectantly, his cut hair still sticking to his chest and shoulders, looking like a scolded puppy for all intents and purposes.

"Still as handsome as ever." Faye assured, resting her hand on his cheek. "Now go ahead and wash all that hair off before you get itchy. Briar is probably climbing on something by now.

"Let me sweep this up first." Henry countered, dusting more hair off of himself as he stood, casting the curls on the ground one last sorrowful glance before following Faye back out into the house to grab the broom.

Faye found her daughter cuddled up with Kal in his bed, happily babbling away to the dog, a few promises to behave herself being peppered in with her monologue. She smiled and waved happily when she spotted her mother, hugging the dog possessively.

"He miss me." She declared, squealing happily when the dog licked her face.

"It sure looks like he did. Sweetheart, is it ok if we pass on the dinosaur nuggets tonight? Henry has to follow a special diet for work and can't eat them all the time like you can." Faye explained, kneeling down to run her fingers through the dog's fur.

"Brockey."

"If he has any, I will be sure to make it for you." Faye agreed, kissing her daughter's forehead and heading to the kitchen. It felt strange to be cooking in someone else's kitchen, but she knew if Briar didn't eat soon, a hunger fueled tantrum was imminent. Judging from the looks of his refrigerator he was currently living off a strict diet of chicken and vegetables, several bottles of rosemary water also lining the shelves. That made planning dinner easier. All he had was chicken and Briar wanted her favorite broccoli. That just left the question of where he kept all his pots, pans and utensils.

"You didn't have to start dinner by yourself." Henry's amused voice almost made Faye jump out of her skin, which was quite the problem considering she had resorted to climbing onto the counter to reach the cutting board. He plucked her from her perch, setting her back on her feet and kissing her forehead. "I see where Briar gets her love of climbing." He teased, easily grabbing the cutting board for her.

"Well I'm sorry, not all of us are giants." Faye pouted, smiling softly to herself as she ran a hand over his fuzzy scalp.

"Mommy, I gotta go potty!" Briar announced, rushing into the room, freezing when she saw the unfamiliar looking man so close to her mother.

"Come on, then, let's go potty." Faye broke away, taking her daughter's hand and leading her away.

"Who that?" Briar asked, looking up at her mother with wide eyes as she toddled along beside her.

"That's Henry, sweetie."

"No it not." She disagreed, her tiny face pulling into a frown.

"Yes it is, he just cut his hair." Faye assured, turning the light on for her daughter, waiting by the door for her.

"Not Henry." Briar repeated firmly as she did her business. The scowl never left her tiny face, not even when her mother led her back to the kitchen where Henry had taken over preparing dinner.

"See? Henry." Faye repeated, nodding to the man in question.

"Not. Henry!" Briar repeated firmly, stomping her little foot.

"I'm Henry, princess." Henry chuckled, slowly approaching and crouching down to let the child see his face.

"Henry?" Briar whimpered, reaching an unsure hand out to touch his freshly shorn hair.

"Henry." He nodded, lowering his head more to let her examine his head more closely.

"I told you, it's Henry." Faye chuckled, patting her daughter on the back, rolling her eyes when she wrapped her arms around Henry's neck, silently demanding he pick her up.

"My Henry. I be good." Briar stated firmly, pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek.

"Don't worry, Princess. I'm not going anywhere until your mother tells me to." Henry assured as he picked her up and carried her back to the counter, dragging a chair along with him and setting her down on it so she could watch what he was doing.

Crisis averted, the rest of the evening went fairly smoothly, Briar insisting on keeping Henry in her sights at all times. The two minutes he'd taken to go to the bathroom had almost been a disaster. Though the look on his face when he opened the door to find both Kal and Briar waiting on him was priceless.

It came as no surprise to Faye when Briar insisted Henry read her a bedtime story. The little girl had become to clingy since Henry had come back into their lives. He was nice enough to download a few children's books onto his iPad, perching himself on the side of the bed as Briar thoughtfully swiped through her options.

"This." Briar decided, pointing firmly at Goldilocks and the Three Bears.

"Ah, yes. A classic." Henry praised, letting the toddler press into his side to watch the screen as he read. Faye only wished she had her phone with her to sneak a picture of the sweet scene unfolding in front of her. He was going to make a wonderful husband and father some day. He was amazing with her daughter, taking all of her demands in stride. He never lost his temper with her, even when she was being unreasonable. The few times she'd been on the verge of a tantrum around him, all he had to do was raise an eyebrow to instantly defuse the situation. The last three weeks without him around had been hard, Briar having grown so used to having him around.

"Henry." Briar's voice interrupted Faye's train of thoughts.

"Yes?" Henry paused his reading, looking down at the little girl.

"Henry." Briar repeated, pointing at the screen. "Henry Papa Bear."

"What?" Henry asked, giving the girl a confused look.

"Henry Papa Bear." Briar repeated. "Fuzzy bear. Papa Bear." Faye was sure all the color drained from her face at the child's declaration.

"Oh, I'm fuzzy like a bear, hu?" Henry chuckled, ruffling her hair.

"Fuzzy!" Briar insisted, pulling the collar of his shirt down more and pointing firmly at his chest hair. "Fuzzy Bear. Papa Bear!"

"Well why am I Papa Bear? Why can't I be Baby Bear?" Henry gasped in mock offense.

"No, silly! I Baby Bear!" Briar explained.

"Ok, I'll be the Papa Bear, then. So, we just discovered that Goldilocks tried my porridge, your mother's porridge, and then ate yours ALL UP!" Henry continued on as though nothing was out of the ordinary.

"That will teach her to come in our house and mess with our stuff." Henry finished reading, squeezing the little girl to his side before getting up and ushering her under the blankets.

"Princess Kal." Briar requested, pulling the blanket up to her nose.

"You know, Kal is a boy dog." Henry pointed out, fighting a laugh.

"Sleep here." Briar continued, oblivious to Henry's correction.

"Will you sleep better with him in here?" Henry asked, whistling for the dog at Briar's enthusiastic nod. The fluffy canine wasted no time in jumping straight onto the bed, forcing his wiggling body close to Briar's and laying his head on her pillow, lazily licking at the side of her head.

"Looks like I've been replaced." Henry sighed in mock despair, switching on the night light and gently shooing Faye into the hall to close the door.

"By which one?"

"Both. It would seem I am obsolete."

"Aww, poor baby."

"That's poor Papa Bear thank you." Henry scoffed.

"I am so sorry about that." Faye quickly apologized, her hands unconsciously coming up to cover her lower face in horror.

"She's a child, it's no bother." Henry assured, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and leading her back to the living room.

"She's never said anything like that before, I swear."

"I know you don't enjoy the subject, but can I trouble you to tell me about her father?" Henry requested suddenly, sitting on the couch and pulling Faye into his lap, wrapping her securely in his arms.

"He's not in the picture." Faye summarized, resting her head against his shoulder to hide her face.

"I know there's more to the story than that." Henry gently pressed.

"He... he left as soon as he found out I was pregnant. I showed him the ultrasound pictures and... it wasn't the reaction I'd been hoping for. He accused me of lying. When that didn't work, he started saying I was a whore, and he had no way of knowing if they were his, that anyone could be their father."

"You mean her. Briar." Henry interjected.

"No... they." Faye admitted after a long pause, reluctantly pulling her sleeve up to show him the ink on her forearm more closely. A pair of wings and a date, marking the worst day of her life. "Briar had a twin that I lost at around ten weeks."

"I'm so sorry." Henry apologized, his stomach dropping as he squeezed her tight, regretting bringing up the subject.

"Not like he cared. He was long gone by then.

"That didn't make it any easier on you."

"No, but there was nothing I could do." Faye sniffled, quickly wiping at her eyes and nose with the back of her sleeve. "He was never involved with anything. He's not on her birth certificate."

"I'm sorry for bringing it up." Henry apologized after a long pause, unable to think of what else to say.

"It's fine. Most people just assume she was from a one night stand or something." Faye shrugged. "Doesn't matter that I was with that asshole for years before I got pregnant, or that he made the decision that if I stopped taking birth control, that meant he didn't have to use a condom either. What kind of sense does that even make? Of course, the asshole didn't even tell me about it until after the fact. Naturally, it was my fault for expecting him to continue using contraceptive if I didn't."

"That makes no sense. He didn't want a child, but he did nothing to prevent from having one?"

"I know. It was just another way of him trying to control me."

"You've done an amazing job raising Briar on your own. She's a happy little spitfire, just like her mum."

"Mom."

"You're in England now, Miss Warren. Here, we say mum."

"Well Briar and I are both from the states. We say mom."

"I really am sorry about the last few weeks." Henry abruptly changed the subject. "I was very busy and I didn't want any distractions. I was miserable. I realize now I really could have used a few distractions to keep me sane instead of throwing myself into my work."

"That's what you do. You're an all or nothing type of guy. Half way is not in your vocabulary."

"What I'm trying to say is, I want to make it easier for you two to be around more."

"How so? You're not about to ask us to move in with you or something, because I really don't think that's a great -"

"No, no." Henry cut her off with a chuckle. "I know you wouldn't say yes even if I did offer. You're far too independent to move in with a man you've only known a few months. What I meant was: would it bother you if I bought some things to make the two of you more comfortable here? That way you could come over whenever you wanted without having to plan it out."

"Such as?"

"Toothbrushes come to mind. You mentioned Briar still needs diapers at night. I could add more things to the spare room to make Briar more comfortable in there. Some stuffed animals maybe? Possibly new bedding with characters on them."

"Henry, if you are asking my permission to go crazy and redecorate your spare room to suit a three year old girl, go for it. I won't judge."

"I'm holding you to that. That girl's already got me wrapped around her little finger." Henry sighed defeatedly.

"You'll get used to it. Soon you won't even notice that your entire day is being plotted out by someone that can't tie her own shoes."

"You don't know how to tie your shoes?" Henry gasped playfully.

"Learning to tie shoes is overrated. Zippers and velcro are the way to go."

@Xxxkatxo @Weallhaveadestiny @lunedelorient

[spaceskam]

rest in my arms, sleep in my bed

Summary: Jiang Cheng goes to Qinghe before a snow storm.

Tags: post-canon, fluff, implied sexual content, morning after

ao3

Nie Huaisang was a selfish man and he was willing to admit it.

Many things he’d done in his life were born of selfish desires and he was happiest at his most selfish. His disciples seemed to understand that and seemed to be content with it, though a part of that selfishness was making sure they were good, taken care of disciples and therefore it worked in their benefit. He couldn’t risk having shitty people that he was required to trust and rely on‒that would not be happening again.

Still, that selfishness had also led to him doing exhiliratingly dumb things like dragging Sandu Shengshou into his bed. It was absolutely a dangerous prospect and could’ve very easily gotten him killed or at least a few broken bones, but Nie Huaisang apparently had caught him at a good‒or bad, depending on how you looked at it‒time and he needed someone to go a little wild on who would also pet his head and call him embarrassing pet names just to see how red he could get.

That was a while ago now, though, and they’d fallen into a nice pattern of not seeing each other for months on end and then showing up when they needed a day of pretending they weren’t sect leaders with someone who was just as fucked up and unqualified as they were. It was pretty effective and gave Nie Huaisang a large amount of time and space to wallow in self-loathing. Granted, he was pretty sure Jiang Cheng did something like that too, so they were basically fated at this point.

Last night, however, the idiot himself had flown to Qinghe and stupidly misunderstood how weather worked. Nie Huaisang’s functioning theory was that he was so angry that he didn’t feel the cold because as soon as they banged it out and he got some fucking rest for what was probably the first time in a week, he was freezing. Nie Huaisang had wrapped him up in the thickest blankets he could find and cooed at the way he burrowed into them like an adorably angry baby.

Sometime during the night it only escalated and snowed so hard Nie Huaisang was beginning to think they might have to send a quick letter to Lotus Pier to let them know their fearless and highly feared sect leader was incapacitated by way of being scared of the weather.

“Fuck this fucking white shit,” Jiang Cheng grumbled in his heap of blankets on Nie Huaisang’s bed. It was usually made by now so it was slightly annoying that it wasn’t, but he could excuse it. For today, at least. Extenuating circumstances.

“Does it not snow in Lotus Pier?” Nie Huaisang mused from where he sat cross-legged on the other side of the bed. He had ink grinded and was working his way through a painting, one of a pretty tree in the snow. Part of him wanted to paint in Jiang Cheng pouting under said tree, but he assumed that would go as well as that time he painted Da-ge smiling with a flower. “Does it not get cold?”

“It does,” Jiang Cheng said, sounding like an absolute child from inside his pile, “But not like this! This is torture. Inhumane. Wrong. Lotus Pier gets, like, windy. A bit snowy, sometimes, yes, but fuck all of this shit.”

“You’re such a baby.”

“You are not allowed to talk to me like that!” Jiang Cheng snapped, but he didn’t move from his blankets and therefore it meant nothing. Truthfully, even if he had, it wouldn’t have meant anything. Jiang Cheng was just like that. It was part of why Nie Huaisang liked him so much.

“Seriously, this is nothing. You should come when it gets too cold to snow.”

“ Too cold to snow?” Jiang Cheng repeated, absolute disbelief and horror in his voice. Nie Huaisang found himself smiling.

“Darling, you’re adorable when you don’t know things.”

“Says the Headshaker,” he grumbled.

Nie Huaisang huffed a laugh and carefully put his ink and painting on his bedside table that existed solely for a place to put nightly paintings and ink. Once it was settled, he crawled back over to the lump of blankets and draped himself over it.

“If you’re truly that cold, I can think of a few ways to warm you up,” he said. Jiang Cheng grunted in disdain because he thought he needed to be manly and Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes.

“No offense, but I’m too cold for that. I’m pretty sure my dick has climbed into my body,” he said. Nie Huaisang rolled onto the other side of the mass of blankets, sliding his hand beneath them. “If your hand is cold, I’m going to fucking‒ Fuck! Why do you feel like ice?! What is wrong with you?! Are you even human?!”

Nie Huaisang laughed and dug under the blankets more to press his cold fingers into his skin. That was another reason that he liked Jiang Cheng so much. He made him laugh. That was something he hadn’t done earnestly in well over a decade.

“ Stop, ” Jiang Cheng whined, finally letting his stupid facade drop. Nie Huaisang felt motivated by it and started to make his way into Jiang Cheng’s blanket heap. “You’re so cold, what the fuck, you’re letting the cold air in!”

“You’re a cultivator, aren’t you warm naturally? Your core is so strong, can't you just get over it?” Nie Huaisang asked, easily slipping his foot to press against the back of Jiang Cheng’s thighs. He jumped and half-assed swatting at his leg. Nie Huaisang hooked his leg around him and pulled himself in. “Here, you big baby, I’ll tuck you in.”

He took a second to seal off any passageways into the blanket heap, closing them in together. Once he settled, he got a good look at Jiang Cheng’s pouty little face in the darkness of the blankets. Somehow, he still seemed to be glowing. As much as Nie Huaisang never cared to grow his own core, he couldn’t deny that it helped create some breathtaking men. That in itself was a gift.

“Do I need to get one of my disciples to take you back to Lotus Pier?” he asked. Jiang Cheng’s eyes slowly slipped across his face and then down between them where they were pressed together, more or less. Nie Huaisang raised an eyebrow and waited for him to meet his eyes again. “Well? Do I?”

“I don’t need help. ”

“Yes, but it isn’t safe to fly on your sword in this,” he pointed out, “And it definitely isn’t safe to travel on foot alone. I don’t care how known and powerful you are.”

“What,” Jiang Cheng said, voice a bit quiet, “Are you actually worried about me?”

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes again. “Imagine the kind of attention we’d get if you died in the middle of nowhere from exposure and the last place you’d been was the Unclean Realm. I do not want to deal with your brother or either of your nephews, thank you very much.”

Jiang Cheng stared at him, eyes still squinted like he was trying to read him. Fortunately, that was something he’d been notoriously bad at for his entire life. It was a good thing that he was pretty and strong.

“You know, you’ve gotten pretty lucky that you’ve basically got your foot in every other major sect. You’re running YunmengJiang, your nephew runs LanlingJin, your other nephew is the last living QishanWen, your brother is shacking up with an important member of GusuLan, and you’re shacking up with the man running QingheNie. Look at you, making connections by chance,” Nie Huaisang said, patting him on the chest. Jiang Cheng blinked three times in succession.

“How did you know about Lan Sizhui being a Wen?” he asked, “I didn’t tell you that and surely Wei Wuxian didn’t.”

Nie Huaisang huffed a laugh and pushed further into Jiang Cheng’s space until they were nose to nose, twirling his hair around his finger. He was so dumb and so, so cute. Nie Huaisang should've taken advantage of him when they were young.

“Darling, when will you learn I know everything?”

Jiang Cheng scoffed, but he didn’t push him away. Instead, his hand pressed against his back and pulled him in tightly.

“No wonder you and Wei Wuxian get on so well. You’re both know-it-all assholes,” he said. 

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes and poked him in the chest, deciding not to comment. He and Wei Wuxian got on so well because they knew different, complementary things. But it was less that they got along and more that they could respect each other for that‒and that they both knew what the other was capable of even if they didn’t know the specifics. That was enough to keep distance.

Jiang Cheng didn’t need to know that if he didn’t already.

“Ah, would you like me to get him to come here and lead you back? I bet he’d love that,” Nie Huaisang said. Jiang Cheng narrowed his eyes at him all over again.

“Asshole.”

“Mm, quite.”

Jiang Cheng made a little mocking noise and paired it with his hand carefully combing back Nie Huaisang’s hair. He was sure he looked a mess with all the blankets, but he could handle that later.

“How long will it snow for?” Jiang Cheng asked.

“Alright, when I said I knew everything, I didn’t mean I could predict the weather,” Nie Huaisang scoffed. Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes and gently flicked the base of his spine. Chills shot all the way up to his neck. “My guess would be it’ll stop by this evening, probably.”

“Then I will stay until the morning,” Jiang Cheng decided. Nie Huaisang raised an eyebrow.

“Really? You’re just going to invite yourself to stay another night? How hospitable of you, Jiang Wanyin,” he said. Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes and then gripped him a bit tighter before rolling him onto his back and placing himself on top of him. Nie Huaisang gave a mocking, “Stop it, you’ll let the cold air in!” 

“Didn’t you offer to warm me up earlier? Has that offer been retracted?” he asked, lowering himself down until Nie Huaisang could feel his breath on his lips. 

“Of course not, I have no intention to let my guest suffer.”

“Asshole,” Jiang Cheng said, but his voice was soft and he was smiling.

“Baby,” Nie Huaisang accused right back, but he was grinning all the same.

Jiang Cheng kissed him then, a way to silence him and a way to get warm all the same. And he would be staying another night, officially the longest they’d spent time together since this whole tryst began.

And perhaps Nie Huaisang wouldn’t be able to wait another handful of months before doing this again.

[kirbyspits]

I hate how everyone blame mako for makorra being toxic but don’t hold Korra responsible for her role in it too. She accused him of conspiring behind her back, humiliated him in front of his coworkers, yelled at him, and flipped his desk over. Book 2 was a nightmare.

Part 1/2 Asks

Listen, Book 2 is dead to me. When antis say Korra is unlikable in Book 2, I can’t defend her. Korra’s stress and insecurities are so subtle and downplayed, it’s hard to even feel sympathetic towards her. Combative characters don’t normally bother me, but Korra was too much, especially since Mako also had no clue what to do. Korra’s the one who had over a decade of training and had all the old wise teachers. 

I only started tolerating their fights after catching one line that helped me understand how Korra spiraled into this raging bundle of blueness. She mentions being “locked up” and people telling her what’s best for her. So my headcanon is all those years in isolation with older men controlling every aspect of her life came to a head, and that took a major toll on her mental health. 

Book 2 was a missed opportunity to explore the confusion, loneliness, and isolation that comes with being the Avatar. The fights with Mako could have been more bearable because they’d make more sense, with those issues being the heart of the problem. However, since we already got into most of that in ATLA, I guess Bryke wanted to focus on spirits, the spiritual world, and frankly speaking, breaking up Mako and Korra. 

So let’s get into Makorra Book 2, specifically before Mako’s lie, because I have more thoughts about that. Ngl, I’ve been dreading writing about this. I get so frustrated and sad because this could have been a beautiful story about a relationship's trials. 

Korra is the one who made the relationship toxic. Trying to keep the peace by downplaying your own opinions and beliefs to avoid making your partner angry isn’t healthy. Walking on eggshells in a relationship is never a good sign, and it’s uncomfortable to watch.

I tend to think people who place all the blame on Mako just don’t like him. Mako was nearly perfect. And I’m not just saying that as a Mako stan. From the beginning, he has done nothing but try his best to support Korra. This is pretty much the pattern during the southern pole arc: Korra vents, Mako responds with what he thinks is supportive feedback. Korra accuses him of taking sides and then shuts the conversation down.  Mako is not the problem. At least while he’s in the southern pole. Korra’s responses are extreme, for starters, mostly because we as viewers are not given enough context to sympathize with her and see why she’s upset with Mako. Mako also listens to Korra’s responses in an effort to remedy the situation the next time there’s a disconnect. When Korra shuts down the first time after he offers his outside perspective, Mako changes his approach. The next time Korra vents, Mako responds by telling her he’ll support whatever decision she thinks is right instead of his opinion. Sure, there is a slight difference in the way Korra talks to Mako. The first time, Mako speaks without her asking for his advice on the matter, while the second time, she asks. Only Korra wanted him to voice his thoughts without her giving him the ok based on the dialogue: Korra: “Well?” Mako: “Well what?” Korra: “What do you think I should do?” 

No wonder Mako is confused and eventually becomes frustrated. It’s also important to note that Mako doesn’t do anything wrong here unless we’re supposed to blame him for not being a mind reader. In fact, Mako takes it a step further and asks Korra how they should communicate to avoid fighting.

Mako: “Do you want advice, or am I supposed to just listen? Still not clear on that.” 

Korra apologizes, but she never answers him, which becomes a problem when they return to Republic City. 

Antis love saying how Mako and Korra were so young when they dated and needed to mature first. I love Korra, but sorry she needed to stop suffering from the hands of Bryke, who just wanted the relationship to end mature. Mako’s approach was very satisfying to watch, and he handled the relationship in a way that would have led to something more healthy if extreme events didn’t occur.

Korra was also mean, and Mako is not a punching bag. He wasn’t going to just let Korra insult him. Mako only becomes combative when Korra makes jabs at him. Mako was the one who either diffused the situation if Korra couldn’t walk away. Otherwise, he’d stick up for himself whenever Korra became sarcastic. 

One of my favorite lines is Mako saying “I thought you wanted me to be supportive. Now you want to know what I think?!” I’ll admit he might have taken it too far when he told her to make up her mind (you were right Mako, but time and place 😬). That was how he got an air bison plushie shoved into his face. Korra was wrong for that, but I understand why she did it 😅. 

Once they got back to Republic City, things became terrible even though Mako and Korra had made up, and I guess Bryke wanted them to go back to square1. Mako finally hit his breaking point and started yelling back. In his comebacks, he threw Korra starting a civil war and messing up the world in her face, something she already felt guilty for. However, these insults were always said in response to Korra demeaning him. You can argue he shouldn’t have fought fire with fire, but again, Mako was at his limit, and Korra was beyond hers. 

The most ironic line in their fights is Korra telling Mako, “I can’t talk to you when you’re like this,” before storming out. I love it because this line really belongs to Mako! He’s the one who can’t talk to Korra and says so!

Even the breakup scene shows Mako starting out as the diplomatic one. His inner Tenzin came out. Korra, on the other hand, basically tried to intimidate him during the confrontation. She first leans over his desk and yells at him for answers. Mako remains seated, explains himself, and Korra doesn’t accept it. Instead, she then kicks his desk out of the way, so there’s nothing in between them. Idk stans, rewatching that scene makes me wonder Korra was actually looking to fight.   

Mind you, Korra has every right to be angry. Her feelings are real. This fight was probably the only fight I was ok with because we got to the source of the problem. She felt betrayed by Mako. This was the only time her accusation about Mako choosing sides makes sense. Of course, Mako was put in an impossible situation, dealing with an angry Avatar or being tried for treason. He made the right decision. Korra would forgive him at some point, and no one goes to jail. 

Also, I noticed that those who say Mako’s the toxic one conveniently forget he ended the relationship. I also don’t think that he would’ve if Korra didn’t say anything about him getting her way and alluding to choosing sides again. Look at his face:

I’m probably getting into headcanon territory, but I think something broke here. Maybe his heart. For 5 episodes, Mako has been trying to convince Korra that he’s on her side. He wants to help her and support her, but she never believes him. He couldn’t take it anymore it more and honestly, Mako did the best thing for his own mental health. And Korra, after all that talk and gusto, jogs out, and runs away. It’s almost comedic. Siighhh, shipping Makorra, and watching Book 2 is torture! 

Still, we have some really sweet moments of our favorite couple, like Mako asking Korra out to dinner 🥰. It’s moments like this that make rewatching Book 2 a little more bearable. Part of me cackles at the idea that Korra and Mako were so in love, it took a war to break them up. Safe to say wars can end any relationship.   

[tortie-tales]

Friendship Ch. 6

I scrolled through my notifications, shocked. They were almost exclusively from Mokuba, who had called and messaged me over a hundred times.

I opened the group chat I was in and began to catch up. They were all related to my whereabouts, except for the last few;

Red Eyes: If anyone asks, (y/n) stayed home because she had diarrhea.

Dancer Girl: Couldn't you have thought of a better excuse, Joey?!

King of Games: I'm with Téa, couldn't we have just said that she wasn't feeling too good?

I groaned before typing up a quick response.

Psychopath: Gee, thanks, Joey. I'm fine guys, I was just sleeping all day.

I'm so happy we don't have school tomorrow, I thought to myself, dreading the homework I would have to catch up on tomorrow.

My stomach growled, reminding me of my original goal: food.

I sighed and stood up, stretching. I walked back into my bathroom and decided to try to fix my hair. I combed it back, only for it to look worse. I sighed and grabbed a hoodie off of my bed, pulling it on quickly.

I grabbed my wallet, only to see that I had five dollars left. No food for me, I guess.

I put my wallet back down and grabbed my laptop, deciding to instead spend this time looking for another job. I walked back out to the living room, hearing the brothers chatter quiet down once again.

"Thanks for checking on me-” I looked at Kaiba “-and breaking my window. You guys can stay if you want, but I'm not making any food or doing anything fun.” I sat down next to Kaiba and directed my attention to Mokuba. “Why did you call me so many times?”

“We were worried!” Mokuba exclaimed.

“Didn't you just say that you were hungry?” Kaiba asked, eyeing me. I shrugged.

“I guess I'm just not hungry anymore.” My stomach growled almost immediately as if it were protesting to my lie. My cheeks flushed slightly.

“..right,” Mokuba said, disbelief evident in his tone. “Seto, I'm hungry too. We should order a pizza!” His eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Absolutely not. You know how much I hate greasy foods,” Kaiba scoffed.

"But Seto, you shattered (y/n)’s window! The least you could do is order pizza for us!” Mokuba begged.

I laughed. “He has a point, you just cost me my deposit, which was two hundred dollars, not counting the repairs I'll have to pay for. Pizza is the least you could do,” I said, smiling. I shut my computer and turned my attention towards him. Mokuba perked up.

Your move, Kaiba.

“I already said no, if you’re that worried about the window I’ll just pay to have it replaced and refund your deposit,” he said cockily. Mokuba groaned.

“Sorry, I only take payment via pizza.”

Mokuba perked up once again, a wide grin spread across his face. He giggled.

Kaiba sighed. “Fine. Gather your things, we’re heading back.”

“Okay big brother. Bye (y/n),” Mokuba mumbled sadly.

“No, (y/n) is coming with us.”

“She is?” Mokuba jumped up off the chair.

“I am?”

“Yes. You wanted payment in pizza, correct?” I nodded, still not understanding why I would have to go to his house. “I refuse to look at that greasy peasant food, let alone let Mokuba consume it. My personal chef will be making us dinner tonight.”

“I appreciate it Kaiba, but it’s kind of late, and I don’t want to get back when it’s dark.”

“You could stay the night!” Mokuba exclaimed throwing his arms out and smacking Kaiba in the process. He gave a quick apology before redirecting his attention to me.

“Ah, that’s sweet of you, but I’m not sure about that,” I said, not knowing how to feel.

“You obviously don’t feel safe here,” Seto began, pinching the bridge of his nose, “you had a chair propped up against your front door and you tripped me with a bat. We have 24/7 security at the mansion, and I can guarantee that no one there will hurt you.”

“Plus your window is broken, so that makes it even less safe,” Mokuba added quietly. Kaiba shot him a glare.

They have a point…

“Alright, let me get some stuff packed.” I stood up and walked to my room, smiling at Mokuba’s cheers.

I stopped in the hallway, realization hitting me.

“Actually, I don’t want anyone stealing my stuff. You guys wouldn’t happen to have boards in your car, would you?” I asked sheepishly.

“I’ll get someone to take care of it,” Kaiba said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Hurry up and gather your things.”

“Alright, no need to rush me.” I went to my room and packed some clothes along with my chargers and laptop. I brushed my hair out and threw it up into a bun before returning to the brothers.

“I’m ready.”

Mokuba grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the door. “This is so exciting, Seto never lets me have friends over!”

The cold air made my skin tingle. I walked out onto the pavement and was surprised to see a sports car parked outside. “Did you drive that over here?” I asked Kaiba.

Kaiba scoffed. "How else do you think we got here?” he asked cockily, continuing to walk towards the bright blue car.

“Gee, I don't know, don't you guys have limos?” I asked sarcastically, a little annoyed with his behavior. I glanced at Mokuba, who seemed to share my frustrations.

Mokuba had a look of disbelief and irritation on his face, one that quickly turned into a mischievous grin. “Seto was so worried about you, (y/n), he couldn't trust our driver to get us here fast enough!” He gave us an innocent look before opening the passenger door for me. “Here you go, (y/n).”

“Thank you, Mokuba.” I got into the car, buckling my seatbelt and holding my bag on my lap.

I glanced at Kaiba, quickly looking away before he could accuse me of staring. I directed my attention at the window, watching the scenery fly by.

The ride to the mansion was short and silent, the only noise being the purr of the engine.

We finally arrived at the mansion, pulling in front of the building. Mokuba practically lept out of the car, running to the doors.

I got out of the car and swung my bag over my shoulder, smiling at Mokuba’s energetic outburst.

I waited for Kaiba to get out and walked with him towards the enormous building, opening the door for him.

“Where should I put my stuff?” I asked.

“Seto will show you to your room! What do you want on the pizza, (y/n)?” Mokuba asked, ecstatic.

“What about (favorite topping)?” I said, glancing at Kaiba. He looked tired and slightly annoyed.

“Sounds good to me! I’ll go ask Raymond to start on it!” Mokuba ran off, likely in the direction of the kitchen.

“Follow me,” Kaiba said quietly.

We walked for what seemed like forever before reaching a hallway with 2 doors on each side, and one at the end.

Kaiba opened the second door on the right, walking in and turning on the light. A bed was on the left side, with a dresser across from it.

“This will be your room for the night. Try not to mess it up too badly.” He rubbed the back of his neck, averting his gaze. “And, if you need to sleep here for more than one night, you’re welcome to do so. Mokuba appears to enjoy your company.”

I smiled. “Thank you, Kaiba. I really appreciate it. And thanks for checking up on me today, sorry if I made you worry.”

Kaiba locked eyes with me, his gaze softening. He opened his mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by Mokuba entering the room.

“Hey, uhh, big brother? Raymond quit.” Mokuba handed Kaiba a note.

“Unbelievable,” Kaiba muttered.

I tossed my bag on the bed and walked over to Mokuba. “Should we just order one?”

“No. I’ll make it myself.” Kaiba crumpled up the note and threw it into a waste bin before dramatically exiting the room. I quickly followed, afraid I would get lost in the endless halls.

We reached the front of the mansion, the glass coffee table in front of the couch looking at me threateningly.

“Do you want help, Kaiba?” I asked, still following him. We went through an archway which revealed a large kitchen.

“No, I do not need help, thank you. I think I am capable of making a pizza by myself.” Kaiba walked up to the fridge and got out several ingredients, mumbling to himself. The only words I could catch were ‘unreliable’ and ‘idiot’.

Mokuba walked up beside me, glancing up at me. “So, (y/n), do you want to play video games while we wait for Seto?”

“Sure, what do you want to play?” I grinned at Mokuba’s excited smile and followed him into the living room, watching him open a cabinet and look through the games.

I sat down on the couch, carefully walking around the glass coffee table.

“Do you want to play Mario Kart?!” Mokuba asked, his eyes shining.

“Sure,” I said, entertained by the idea of destroying this young child.

I let him win the first few rounds before I got serious. I easily beat him, flaunting my victory after the third win.

“I am the Mario Kart Queen!” I yelled, standing up and throwing my hands in the air. Mokuba giggled.

“The Queen, huh?” Kaiba walked into the living room, smiling slightly. I grinned at him.

“Yep. Care to challenge me for the title?” I asked, holding up a controller.

“Not today,” he said, walking over and sitting across from me. I smiled at him, happy he was talking to me a bit more than last time.

“Mokuba, can you set a timer for the pizza?” Kaiba asked. Mokuba nodded and grabbed his phone.

Mokuba and I played a few more rounds of Mario Kart. He gave up after I won for the fifth time in a row.

“So Seto, tell me more about that girl you fired today.” Mokuba was barely able to sit still, constantly moving around in anticipation of the pizza.

“She was incompetent, and I have no room for incompetent people at KaibaCorp,” he stated simply before sipping from his glass of water.

“What did she do wrong?” I asked curiously.

“Well, for starters she didn’t appreciate the Blue-Eyes White Dragon. She had the audacity to tell me that it was just a card,” Kaiba looked up at me. “She also overlapped my appointments several times, and I had to do her job for her today.”

“I see. Was she your secretary?” I asked. Kaiba affirmed by nodding. “Does that mean you are looking for someone to replace her?”

“Are you interested?” Kaiba asked, raising an eyebrow. Mokuba was watching us intently.

I thought for a moment.

Do I really want to work for Kaiba?

Joey had always told me horror stories, but he didn’t seem that bad. Joey also exaggerated a lot, so something simple like Kaiba's taste in food probably offended him.

"Yes. Should I set up an appointment for an interview now? Or would you rather do that later on?” To say I was desperate for this job was an understatement. If I got it, it would take a lot off of my shoulders.

Mokuba and Kaiba looked at each other. Kaiba took a breath to respond before Mokuba quickly interrupted him.

"You're hired.”

“Mokuba, she's still in school. How is she possibly going to have time to work full-time as my secretary?”

Oh. I guess he has a point.

“But it would be perfect! You would get to see each other all the time!” Mokuba protested.

I sighed. “He has a point, Mokuba, I didn’t realize the job was full time. You're not offering any part-time jobs, are you?” I asked, still desperate. Kaiba thought for a moment.

“Do you want to scrub toilets?” he asked. Mokuba facepalmed.

"....how much does it pay?” I asked.

“Sixteen dollars an hour,” Kaiba stated simply.

“Done. I'm hired.” I stood up and stretched. “I feel like the pizza should have been done by now. Mokuba, how much time is left on the timer?”

Mokuba looked at his phone and paled. “I never pressed start.”

“Do you guys smell something burning?” I asked, looking at the kitchen. Black smoke became visible.

“Fire!!!!!!!!!!!!” Mokuba screamed.

“The pizza!!!!” I yelled, running into the kitchen. I threw the oven open only to be smacked in the face with the sun's heat and glory, along with a ton of smoke. I started coughing and grabbed the pizza, desperate to save it.

The pan burned my hand, and I yelled, dropping the pizza. The pain was intense, but it hurt more to know that my food was willing to hurt me in that way.

“What are you doing?!” Kaiba yelled, startling me. He put on an oven mitt and put the pizza on the stove.

“Saving the pizza,” I said, coughing a little. Kaiba sighed and opened a window. He walked over to the sink and turned the water on.

“Put your hand under the water,” he said, walking back to the burnt pizza. I followed his directions quietly, looking back at him. He shook his head and shoved the pizza aside.

I stood there for a few minutes. He walked over to me and turned the tap off, gently grabbing my wrist. He looked at my hand and shook his head once again.

“Come on.” Kaiba walked out of the kitchen. “Mokuba, order a pizza.”

Mokuba cheered and ran for his phone.

I followed Kaiba through the mansion, keeping my burnt hand close to myself. We reached a familiar hallway, entering the second door on the left.

We entered the master bedroom. There was a bed with a dark blue comforter on the right side of the wall, a window at the back of the room, and a door on the left of the room.

“Sit down,” he said, opening the door. He walked into a bathroom and opened a cupboard.

“Where?” I asked, glancing around.

“On the bed.” Kaiba walked back to me with a first aid kit.

He sat on the bed next to me and tenderly took my hand in his. I looked away, my cheeks warm, trying to ignore how his rough hands fit perfectly around my own.

“It’s fine, you know. The burn isn’t even that bad, it’s not like I’m going to die,” I mumbled. I glanced over at him and watched him completely ignore me, continuing to treat my burn. He lightly wrapped it in gauze. When done, he sat there holding my hand, saying nothing.

"...Kaiba?"

"Enlighten me: why did you grab the pizza pan with your bare hand?" he asked in disbelief.

"It was burning??" I said, confused.

"There were oven mitts right there." His eyes pierced into my soul, analyzing my very being.

"Well, Kaiba, I wasn't looking for oven mitts, I was saving the pizza." He looked irritated at my response, removing his right hand from mine and pinching the bridge of his nose, his left hand remaining on mine.

Kaiba let out a deep sigh and stood up, pulling me with him. "Let's go see what Mokuba ordered."

[rocksandrobots]

Of Rocks and Robots Ch. 33 -Don't Mole On My Parade

"Beware evil doers, for I, the mighty Minimax, doth roam the streets with my trusted partner Fred, along with his newest protégé Varian, and together we plan to buy a DVD!"

Varian watched the small robot jump upon a mailbox to proclaim this lofty goal. The little automaton looked just like his namesake, a mini Baymax, but his behavior was far different from the robotic nurse. Hiro had built him to be a sidekick for Fred and so the robot acted just as if he came out of a silver age comic.

"Hey Fred?" Varian asked.

"Yeah?"

"What happened to 'keeping a superhero's identity secret is rule number one in the hallows of superherodom'?"

His friend looked back at him confused, "It is. Why?"

"Because your robot pal isn't exactly what I would call ' inconspicuous'. Aren't you worried someone might recognize him and, you know, put two and two together?"

Fred looked surprised, as if he had never considered this possibility. After a moment's thought he called after his robotic companion.

"You know, your right. Hey Minimax,

come here, you need a disguise."

The little android dutifully ran up to the teen and Fred pulled out a pair of sunglasses and placed them upon its head.

"There! How does that look?"

"Like a small white robot wearing sunglasses."

"Exactly! Usually he wears a cape when he's superheroing."

"You seriously don't expect people to be fooled by a pair of glasses do you?"

"Why not? It worked for Henry Reeve. He played Captain Fancy in the tv show."

"Yeah but I doubt the guy was a two foot tall robot."

"As far as we know…." Fred said stone faced as he looked Varian dead in the eye; the way he often did when spouting some crazy theory that no one else believed.

Varian decided to cut his losses. There was no getting through to Fred once he latched onto an idea; regardless of how ill advised and detached from reality it was.

"So where are we going again?" Varian asked instead.

"We're going to the comic book store to buy a copy of the Professor What DVD that just came out."

"I thought you already owned every episode though?"

"I do. Of every aired episode that is. This is the "lost serial". It was recorded but never broadcast due to a production strike during the 70s and the only way to see it was through bootlegs. But now the EBC has released it in full on dvd, plus extras, like special interviews with the cast and such."

"Ok, that's cool, I guess."

"Mega cool! I can't wait to see it in all it's high definition glory!" Fred joyously squealed only to sober up as they neared the comic shop. "There's only one problem."

"What's that?"

"Richardson Mole" Fred growled.

"Mole?" Varian echoed, confused.

"My arch nemesis, remember? His is the only comic store in town that currently has any copies. The rest won't get theirs till next week!"

"Then why not wait until next week to get it then?" Varian very sensibly asked.

Fred looked at him aghast, "And let Mole gloat over getting to see it a whole week early!? Un-uh! No way! Buuuuut he won't sell me a copy; so that's why you're here."

Fred wrapped an arm around Varian's shoulder and pointed at the other teen's chest as he recounted his plan.

"You see, Minimax and I will cause a distraction drawing Mole outside. While he's gone, you quickly grab a dvd from the display stand and mix it up with a bunch of other stuff you're going to purchase and dump it all on the counter. Hopefully he'll be so annoyed by what me and Minimax have planned, that he won't notice that he sold you a copy along with all the other things you grabbed. It's the perfect plan!" Fred rubbed his hands together devilishly.

"Uh...hun….Ooor I could just walk in there and buy a copy outright instead of paying for a bunch of stuff I don't want." Varian countered.

"You know... that's so crazy…it just might work. Minimax; new plan!" Fred yelled after his robot.

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

The comic shop was not much different from the store inside the mall that Fred had taken Varian to on his first day in San Fansokyo. The main difference was it was a freestanding building and the cashier was a short child perhaps only a few years younger then Varian himself.

"Hello, welcome to my sho--oh it's you, Fred." The kid interrupted his enthusiastic greeting towards Varian the moment Fred walked in behind him.

"Why hello, Mole, unpleasant as ever I see." Fred retorted back with equal disdain.

Mole only sighed and rolled his eyes. "What do you want Fred?"

"Oh contraire, it's not what I want but what my friend here wants." Fred gently but firmly nudged Varian up to the counter as he said this. "Tell him Varian."

"Uhhh...I'd like the newest Professor What DVD...the lost episode one?... P-please." Varian wasn't sure what he had expected when Fred first asked him to come along on this quest for a DVD, but being glared at by a very irritated 12 year old from across the counter wasn't it. Moreover he hated being put on the spot like this. He really had no context for this apparent feud Fred had with this kid.

"Really?" Mole raised an eyebrow. "And there's no chance that my rival Fred here didn't put you up to the task of buying the dvd for him?"

"Uh...d-does it matter?" Varian shrugged, now completely bewildered. He had assumed Fred was only exaggerating about Mole, same as he exaggerated about just everything, but no, turns out that the pre-teen really was that petty.

"Uh, of course it matters." The kid replied as if Varian had missed something obvious. "I have the only copies in town and in limited quantities. I'll only sell them to true fans of the series, otherwise someone might just buy from me and then sell it at a mark up price online or something. Now why should I give someone else that advantage when I can corner the market?"  

Varian raised an eyebrow at this explanation but Fred stepped in before he could say anything.

"Hey, Varian's a fan. We've been marathoning the series. Tell him, buddy." Fred gave Varian another nudge.

"Oh really? Well then, Varian, who is your favorite Professor?" Mole's voice dripped with incredulity.

"Y-you mean there's more than one?" Varian began to ask in confusion but Fred jumped him, covering Varian's ears with his hands. Though it did little good as Varian could still hear Fred shushing Mole.

"Shhh...Careful with the spoilers Mole!"

"I knew it! I knew It!" Mole yelled back. "You just dragged your friend over here to buy the special edition dvd for you!"

"I did not!" Fred snapped back.

Minimax jumped up onto the counter and pointed a finger at Mole. "No one accuses my Fred of trickery, foul villain. For even though that is indeed the plan and you must have only deduced that with your nefarious cunning."

"Minimaaaax!" Fred whined.

Varian was losing his patience. He shoved Fred off him. "Look, yes, I came here to buy the DVD so Fred and I could watch it in our marathon. But so far we've only watched the first season and more copies are arriving in a week, so what does it matter!?"

"Wait? You've only seen season one, as in the original series first season from 1963?" Mole asked.

"Uh..Yeah?"

"That's what I was trying to tell you, Mole." Fred interrupted again. "He's going into the series completely blind. He doesn't know about… r-e-n-e-w-a-l yet."

"Renewal?" Varian echoed now even more confused. Fred had tried to drop his voice to a whisper but Varian heard anyway.

Mole's entire demeanor magically changed. Gone was his standoffish and combative nature and in its place was a look of genuine excitement.

"Ooooh, how I envy you my friend! Imagine being able to experience the whole series fresh! Oh..oh, then what's your favorite story so far?"

"Ummm...I liked the one we just finished… it's the one where they're stuck in the middle of the French Revolution."

"Interesting choice." Mole said intrigued. "So who's your favorite assistant?"

"Well I don't if she counts as an 'assistant' but my favorite character so far is the Professor's granddaughter, Sue."

"Yeees!" Mole exclaimed suddenly, taking Varian a back. "Finally, someone who sees sense! Sue is so underappreciated. You know what?" Mole continued as he reached behind the counter to pull a dvd box off the shelf. "Just to show my support in your endeavor to embark on such a daunting quest as to view the entirety of Professor What, here is the dvd to complete the collection, free of charge."

"Really?" Varian asked bewildered as Mole handed him the coveted copy.

"Yup, just come back and let me know how you enjoyed the later seasons, or stop by and maybe check out some of the other Professor What merch I got for sell."

Mole cheerily waved goodbye as Varian, Fred, and Minimax walked out of the shop.

"What just happened?" Fred asked.

Varian opened the thin box to see the disc inside. "Well, apparently your mortal enemy just gave me a free dvd."

"I don't trust it." Fred said darkly. "Mole is up to something."

"Do you want me to return it?"

"No!" Fred quickly exclaimed and reached out to grab the case. But Varian snatched it back out of his reach.

"Now, now, he did give it to me, you know." Varian said as if reprimanding a small child and a sly grin slowly formed on his face.

"Oooh, but.. But I waited years to see it… pleeesee."

Fred was practically crawling over him to get to the dvd but Varian fended him off while trying unsuccessfully to stifle his laughter.

"I'll tell you what… I'll let you have it…but for a price."

"Name it."

Varian thought for a moment. "I wanna drive the limo."

"Oh… but Heathcliff…" Fred stopped mid sentence as Varian waved the dvd in his face, his crooked smile growing wider.

"Ok. Fine." Fred relented. "But on one condition. Heathcliff has to teach you how to drive it."

"Deal."

They shook hands and Varian handed over the movie.

"Huhzzah!" Minimax proclaimed. "And once again the heroes have concluded their quest and now return home victorious!"

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

"Hey Mole," Fred shouted as he sauntered into the comic shop. "Do you got any replacement parts for a limited addition Space Hike laser gun? I kind of broke mine dur---"

Fred's voice trailed off when he noticed that the little store was empty. A week had passed since he and Varian had procured the Professor What DVD and Fred hadn't seen nor heard from his nemesis in that time. Fred didn't think that was too odd, it wasn't like he and Mole talked daily or anything, but it was suspicious for his rival to leave the store unattended without closing shop first.

Fred's senses went on alert and he instinctively went into stealth mode: dropping to the ground and crouching on tiptoe as he looked for booby traps on the shelves, behind the doors, and under the displays.

He didn't find any.

Though as he ransacked the counter during his search, he did hear the distant sound of laughter and music coming from the "staff only room." Which wasn't a room really. It was an elevator that went into the basement. Mole had a private arcade down there and must have been playing video games and had simply forgotten to lock up.

Satisfied that there was no danger of a prank literally blowing up in his face and covering him in some sort of slime or soap bubbles or something else that was similarly messy (Fred never forgot that time when Mole dumped dumped a bucket of chocolate fudge on his head five years ago) he decided to go down stairs to ask Mole about the previously mentioned parts.

What he found was far worse than a bucket of chocolate syrup.

In the basement Varian and Mole were both playing a video game. It was an old stand up arcade machine and on it was a retro beat 'em up. Both seemed to be enjoying themselves and called good natured taunts as they furiously pressed buttons trying to one up the other.

Neither had noticed Fred enter.

"Oh you're going down now!" Mole cheered.

"In your dreams!" Varian laughed.

He pressed the block button and his little pixelated character averted a punch from Mole's pixelated avatar and then grabbed said character into a hold and bodied slammed him to the ground.

"K.O.!" A distorted voice from the machine announced and Varian threw up his hands in victory.

"Ah…. Man!" Mole bemoaned. "You got lucky. I had you on the rocks."

"Yeah, I did." Varian admitted with a snicker.

"Best two out of three then?" Mole asked.

"Naw.. I got an essay I need to finish bef-" Varian paused mid-sentence as he turned around and finally saw Fred. Who just stood there with his mouth agape.

"Uh...hi, Fred."

Fred just pointed his finger at them and made an unintelligible sound like a cross between a gasp and a squeal.

"How the heck did you get in here Frederickson?" Mole said irritably.

This seemed to awaken Fred from his stupor.

"Betrayal!" He shouted, still pointing his finger accusingly at them both.

"Now Fred, don't overreact." Mole chided. "My friend Varian and I were just playing a friendly little game of Street Combat."

"Friend? Friend ?! My bestest buddy and protégé playing video games with my arch nemesis and mortal rival! This just like when Captain Fancy found the Fearless Ferret robbing banks with the Toymaker in Earth's Greatest #20!"

"Fred…" Varian started to reason with a weary sigh but Fred interrupted him.

"No. I don't want to hear it!" And with that he turned around on his heel and marched back into the elevator. "But mark my words Varian, Mole can't be trusted." And with this warning he pressed the first floor button and the elevator doors closed.

Varain rolled his eyes and followed after his friend. "Sorry Mole, I gotta go smooth things over with Fred. I'll see ya later."

"Okay, oh I almost forgot" the Professor What convention is next month. You want to go?" Mole replied as Varian hurried over to the elevator.

"Yeah sure, sounds like fun."  Varian answered back distractedly. "I'll see ya then." He waved bye to Mole as the door to the elevator closed.

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

When the elevator opened back up Varian saw Fred stomping away down the sidewalk outside and raced after him.

"Fred! Fred, wait up!"

"Why? So that you can stab me in the back again?" Fred called after.

"Fred...you're being ridiculous."

He stopped, incensed, and fumed at Varian, "Ridiculous?! Oh, I'm being ridiculous now am I?"

"Yeah, you are." Varain stated matter-of-factly.

"Oh, I see how it is. Crazy Fred is just being paranoid again. It can't possibly be that Mole has been trying to ruin my life since he was in dippers. Seriously, when I first met him he was a week old and I had to be the one to change him. It was all downhill from there."

Varian crossed his arms and gave Fred a reproachful look.

"Oh you don't believe hun?" Fred defended, "Well did he tell you about the time he cut the power to my house so he could win the online auction for Captain Fancy 133? Or the time he spilled hot fudge on me at his 7th birthday party? How about the time he stole my prized Captain Fancy pants? Oh, or how he bought out the mech wrestling league just so I couldn't own it? And he doesn't even like wrestling!!"

Varian didn't answer and kept up his disapproving glare.

"I tell you Mole is just using you to get to me. Don't you see? It'd be the ultimate revenge if he stole my protégé away--."

"Ok, first off, I'm not your "protégé" or "apprentice" or whatever, and second off, Mole never mentioned you the entire time we've hung out. Couldn't it just be possible that he wants to be friends with me and that you're making a big deal out of nothing?"

"Oh really? Then how would you feel if I started hanging out with that princess you hate so much? Rapunzel! Yeah, wouldn't you be hurt if I became pals with your mortal enemy."

A shadow fell across Varian's face and his mildly annoyed glare transformed into cold steely gaze.

"Fred."

"Y-yeah."

"Rapunzel left me, my father, and my entire village to die. Your 'mortal enemy' just buys the same stuff that you want."

Fred looked like a man who had just had a glass of ice water splashed in his face.

"Ooookay...I-I'm beginning to see the difference…"

Now it was Varian's turn to storm off in a huff leaving Fred to stand there bewildered.

"Wait! … She did that ?!" He turned and ran after Varian. "I thought fairy tale princesses were supposed to be nice?"

"Well, they're not, and my life is not a fairy tale Fred."

Fred pouted as he tagged long after Varian, unsure of what to say now.

Varian stopped at the bus stop to wait on his ride home and Fred sheepishly stared at his shoes. After a few awkward minutes he spoke up.

"H-hey, Varian.."

"What."

"I'm sorry….maybe I overreacted a little?"

"A little?" Varian raised an eyebrow.

"Alright, a lot. But I just don't understand why you want to even hang out with Mole."

Varian heaved a heavy sigh and relented. "Look...I just, don't have many friends ok? And before I came here I didn't have any friends. So if someone invites me to hang out with them then I wanna go. Cause that doesn't happen often, and I don't like being alone, and....and Mole doesn't know who I am or about my past. Same as Carol, or Karmi… It's just nice to feel normal for once."

"Annnd you can't feel normal around me cause I know you're magic, right?"

"For the last time Fred, I'm not magic." He growled through his teeth and then in a gentler voice said. "Also, and I mean this in the nicest way possible, you're not normal."

"Fair. Though, if we're talking 'normal' I don't think Mole counts either."

"Maybe not, but I don't think he has a lot of friends either. I guess in that way we have something in common."

Fred looked thoughtfully at that. It was true, Mole really didn't have any friends; a combination of homeschooling and being a huge nerd had left the kid pretty isolated. Fred understood that. He'd been there too, but then again he wasn't a huge jerk to people.

"I still don't get it…. Buuutt if you want to hang out with Mole I'm not going to try and stop you."

"And you're not going to pitch a fit, or sulk, or argue with me if I do?"

Fred heaved a sigh. "No. I'll be very mature about it….also very confused…but I'll be cool, promise."

"So we're still friends?" Varian asked with some slight trepidation.

"Well of course we're still friends! That was never in question. Friends have fights sometimes, ya know, but they always stick together in the end."

He gave Varian a playful nudge on the shoulder and Varian smiled back.

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

Big Hero Six walked away from the college campus and headed towards the parking lot where Wasabi had parked his car. The gang of teenagers laughed and conversed until the squeal of tires on pavement sounded off in the distance and the sound of motor revving became louder and louder.

Soon a fire red sports car came barreling down the drive towards them. They jumped back as the car skidded to a halt next to them, making black marks on the pavement.

The little group stared in shock at the close call and a window rolled down to reveal the driver.

"Hey guys!" Varian cheerfully called out, oblivious to the fright he had caused them.

"Varian, what are you doing!?" Wasabi yelled.

"Oh, Heathcliff is giving me driving lessons."

The Frederickson's faithful butler tilted his head to give the other teens a better look at him. He was dressed in his usual work attire but save for the pair of sunglasses he wore. He said nothing but his stoic face broke into a sly grin and he gave a thumbs up.  He was clearly enjoying being chauffeured around for a change.  

"Yeah, Fred let me borrow his car to practice with." Varian continued and then turned to the man sitting beside him. "You were right Heathcliff, this is cooler than the limo."

At this Gogo punched Fred in the right arm.

"Oww, what was that for?" He rubbed his arm ruefully.

"You never let me borrow the race car!" She said deeply offended.

Hiro also gave Fred's left arm a much lighter smack just to get his attention. "Yeah, and I got a learners permit; same as Varian."

"Yeah but I'll get my actual license before you so I need the practice more." Varian smugly replied.

Heathcliff interrupted this friendly spat with his usual soft spoken British accent, "Master Varian, how about we learn how to pass other cars safely on the road next; and see how fast this bad boy can really go."

"Heck yeah!" Varian laughed. He moved the gear out of 'park', yelled "See ya!", and slammed on the gas. The car took off like a shot; burning rubber as it went.

"Oh what fresh horror have you unleashed?" Wasabi asked Fred as everyone stared dumbstruck after the boisterous teen and renegade butler.

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Hey I’ve recently lost my job and am currently hunting for work so story updates will be slow. 

If you would like to help out you can all way support me on ko-fi 

https://ko-fi.com/rachelbethhines

[hteragram-x]

LOCEIT HCs...

...because I don’t see nearly enough posts about these two, so here is my contribution. (With some supportive Creativitwins in the background.)

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---

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Their flirting (especially before they got together) is a competition. Not like Roceit flirting when they try to one up the other partner with cute gestures and suave compliments. Nope. With Logan and Janus it’s the game of pretending to not flirt and to not understand flirting until one of them becomes too flustered or reacts like a normal person and, therefore loses.

Janus would, for example, say something nice and innocent about Logan’s intelligence. And Logan only smiles nicely and says: “thank you, that’s my job” in the most neutral way possible. Janus starts escalating the compliment, by saying how much he likes a man that is smart. To which Logan answers politely that he’s glad they are on the good terms. And so one and so forth.

At one point either the person who is complimenting gets frustrated and shouts something like: “I just think you’re hot, goddammit! Take the compliment!” or the other one blushes too hard to hide it and has to admit that they are more than flattered.

The amount of romantic tension in the air is so high that it often involuntarily summons Roman.

He later quietly sits nearby with his phone and texts other sides to make bets who wins this time. Usually he quite likes these battles of patience, but he still calls it: “Who’s more like a fucking human being” contest. Whoever loses in the eyes of Loceit is the winner in Roman’s.

...

Janus still likes to flirt with everyone around without any shame, but they know it’s only a game. If the other side shows the slightest sight of feelings he quickly steps back and fervently explains that it’s just how he is and he didn’t mean it romantically.

If Janus and Logan are on the same side of the discussion Logan actually encourages Janus’ attempts to convince someone (usually Roman), by using flattery. He’d prefer to win using just logic, but if that’s not enough he can use a charming snake to gain some support. If they are on the opposite sides Janus tries to change Logan’s mind with flirting, but that never works unless he combines it with actual good arguments.

When Logan and Janus team up it’s almost 100% guaranteed that they’ll win. At least academically and from the audience’s perspective. That doesn’t necessarily mean that Thomas will listen to them in the end.

If they lose they usually disappear together for some time. The others think that they are simply blowing off steam e.g. by destroying things or yelling (or doing other stuff, according to Remus) and they just hide to not ruin their reputation. In reality they stay together tangled in blankets mumbling how frustrated they are. Basically two braincells recreating the “No talk, me angy” meme.

...

Janus likes to use his cane to pull Logan closer with every little excuse he can find. Sometimes he does that with no reason at all and claims it’s a reflex at this point (which is partially true). He loves to get unnecessarily close just because and if he has no cane around he can always drag Logan by the tie.

Logan doesn’t allow anyone else to do that except for Remus from time to time when he has no patience to argue with someone so irrational and rebellious. Other than that, Janus alone has the tie-pulling privilege.

They do argue about ties and bowties a lot, though. It’s an ongoing, very serious, debate about which of the two looks better and more elegant. They cannot objectively solve it. Janus secret mission is to somehow trick Logan into wearing a bowtie without snapping his fingers and changing his attire himself.

...

When Logan feels terrible about himself Janus shapeshifts into him and repeats everything that Logan says. Not to be annoying, but to let Logan hear his own words in a different context and realize that these are just his own insecurities speaking and it usually has nothing to do with the truth. (No need to tell him that right away. He can figure it out himself. It works better.)

When Janus is upset Logan just recites very blunt positive facts about him. If Janus still has a problem with believing in these compliments Logan calmly explains that these are not compliments, but merely scientifically provable claims. In that case Janus cannot really argue with them and he knows better than to accuse Logan of lying for the sake of emotions.

When they went from flirting and tiptoeing around each other to actual dating they kept these tactics, but added some more tricks to lift their partner’s spirits. The new methods are much more affectionate and emotional, but still backed up with a lot of objective facts that are not up for a debate.

...

Before they started dating Logan went to Remus and Janus went to Roman desperately needing some advice. Logan because he’s so bad with feelings that he fears he misunderstood the entire situation (plus Remus knows Janus better than the Light Sides at this point) and Janus needed some actual help when it comes to romance. He may be very suave and flirt a lot, but it’s just a nice façade he uses to gain something. It works way worse when real feelings are involved.

Eventually, they end up getting together in a very slow, gradual way, because all their attempts to do something romantic are disasters. Not that Creativitwins’ advice was bad… it’s just their plans’ questionable execution. Logan and Janus were playing their “We pretend to not get what’s going on and appear unaffected” game for so long that every romantic gesture seems to be fake or a trap.

So in the end they just painfully slowly grow closer and closer. When Janus drags Logan with his cane, he stays beside him longer than he needs to. When Logan reads and gets distracted, Janus brushes his hair from his eyes with his gloved and later gloveless fingers. When Janus doesn’t know something he stops pretending he understands everything and goes to Logan to ask which makes the other man lit up with excitement. When Logan doesn’t feel like talking and arguing he just leans on Janus seeking silent support and delicate affection.

They probably start officially dating in a very nonspectacular way. They are just very close and Logan says something like: “Well, according to my data we should probably kiss at this point” and Janus answers with: “Can’t argue with science”. So they do kiss, before Logan mentions that science is exactly about “arguing” until you get the most objective and statistically correct answer possible.

...

For some time they do not say anything to the others.

But they notice the change pretty quickly, starting with Roman who nearly faints with relief after their confessions, because the amount of repressed love they were carrying around was insane and was an actual physical burden for a romantic side.

However, before anyone else knows they spend a week together trying to squeeze as much affectionate, loving moments into these few days as possible, so they don’t act too delirious around other sides when they come back. (They do anyway.)

Their flirting is still a competition, though. Sometimes to a ridiculous extent when they try to outdo the other with obscenely romantic gestures. It’s not a date. It’s a game. There is a scoring board and they both simultaneously play the roles of the contestants and the judges.

(Logan wins after carving a heart with J+L sign on the tree, because Janus refused to do anything that would look even more like a scene from a cheesy teenage movie. He gladly accepts his defeat. The punishment was just more soft kissing under the same tree. What a tragedy.)

...

At the end of the day Loceit as a couple is a very unpredictable mixture between them being two cold motherfuckers (with one refusing to show a single emotion and the other using the emotions as a weapon) and being two nerds that can giggle at each other’s jokes about law while combing their partner’s hair with fingers, cuddling, and blushing very hard when they hear a breathless: “you’re so smart!”.

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And that’s all. However, I do feel that we’ve neglected Loceit as a ship which means that I will probably create more HCs and writing prompts about them soon. So feel free to ask about these two :D I’ll gladly post something more.

[easyrevenge]

shinkami drabble

word count : 1.6k

ship: shinsou hitoshi / kaminari denki 

rated: t

summary: denki has a crush on shinsou who works across the street at the second-hand music shop.

(ive never written shinkami before & i’ve been having writers block so i wrote this based on true events for warm-up.)

Kaminari is pretty sure he might die. 

“You’re being so dramatic,” Mina tells him. And yeah, he is, but that hardly changes the fact that he’s starving. Not to death but it’s significant. He forgot to eat breakfast and wasn’t even on the schedule to work today. He’s just a good employee, and friend, or whatever. Denki thinks Mina could at least be a little more--”But, someone did leave their Café Luna bag behind about an hour ago. See what’s in it.”

Denki loves her. “Café Luna? That place is expensive!” And delicious, so he’s heard. The restaurant opened a few weeks ago down the block and since then the line has been wrapped around the corner. 

He hurries to the back of their shop and rummages through the mini-refrigerator that definitely should have been cleaned out at least three weeks ago. Past some questionable yogurt cups, he finds what he’s looking for.

Denki only spends a solid five seconds debating the morality of the situation--is it rude to eat someone’s untouched food? What if they come back for it? But it’s a short-lived consideration, especially once he sees what’s inside; a small clear container with what a fancy as fuck sandwich—“It’s been an hour, surely they would have come back by now…” he reasons. Most importantly, as well as the deciding factor, “Oh hell yes!” A huge, insanely thick double chocolate chip cookie. “Sorry not sorry, loser.” Who the hell could leave any of this behind?

The sandwich is obliterated within minutes. Then Denki, because he is a good friend and model employee, brings the cookie back out to the front and offers some to Mina. 

“You’re sweet, Denks,” she says, patting his shoulder. Then she laughs, “But it looks like you might cry if I say yes and you're forced to actually share.”

Denki really, really loves her. 

He’s half-way through the cookie, propped up on the counter and munching away while Mina does all the clean up tasks that he’s excused from today for coming in. This is their usual slow hour anyway, not a customer in sight. Easy money. 

“So, I forgot to tell you that your walking wet-dream came by earlier.” 

Denki almost chokes on his cookie. “What! When? What was he wearing?” 

Mina smiles as she wipes the counters down. “I was swamped so I didn’t get a good look. He was in and out pretty quick.”

Denki leans back against the wall, closing his eyes for a moment to revel in a quick day dream. One where he’s smooth and clever, manages to get his number, then maybe a date, a blow job, a boyfriend, a decent, regularly scheduled lay. He’d take that in any order, really. 

Denki’s never actually talked to the guy but he does know his name is Shinsou thanks to a very tactful phone call by Mina. He works at the secondhand music store across the street and one morning while opening shop they made eye contact across the asphalt. Denki had been sweeping while the other was writing a music lesson schedule on a chalkboard menu. It was anticlimactic, lasting no more than three seconds, but Denki never stops thinking about it. 

Shinsou is intimidating in the way that most pretty people are. He looks mean, disinterested. It pulls Denki in unquestionably, especially because he always smiles (full teeth) whenever he spots Shinsou through the window and rarely gets anything back except the highly coveted lifted eyebrow. Denki’s favorite thing about him is his eyes, dark and liquidy.

Denki also cares a lot about fashion and Shinsou’s clothes are the brand of cool that is obviously effortless, all black. His messy purple hair is usually pushed back with one of those cheap, zigzag plastic hair combs that were popular in the 90s.

Shinsou is aggressively hot, it’s almost offensive. Denki isn’t sure if he has a league but Shinsou is out of everyone’s.

“I can’t believe he actually came in. What did he order?”

Mina shrugs, “He just bought bottled water but he did spend a minute staring at your freaky art.”

“Oh my god,” Denki flushes pink with excitement and disbelief. He doesn’t exactly call himself an artist but he does fuck around a lot in his small studio and paint weird, neon colored, warped looking Pokémon-monster hybrids. Mina let’s him display them around her fruit shop because she’s a good friend. 

A customer comes in and Denki continues to lounge on the counter, still daydreaming of purple hues and picking at the cookie while Mina makes a smoothie that has far too many vegetables. 

“Hey Denks,” Mina says after the customer has left with their inevitable bowel movement in a cup. She sounds weird. He looks over and she’s smiling like the Cheshire Cat. He knows he’s fucked. “We’re best friends and I’m your boss, so you’re obligated to forgive me.”

Denki’s heart is squeezing tight and he stares wide eyed. “What did you do?”

Mina turns to look out through the front windows where Shinsou is currently looking left, then right, before doing a half-jog across the street. She hurriedly looks back at Denki, “I forgot to tell you the Café Luna bag was Shinsou’s and now it looks like he’s coming back for it and I’m going to go on my break now, bye.” She says the last part in one breath while the door opens and the little bell on top rings. 

Shinsou walks in and all the air is pulled from Denki’s lungs.

Denki doesn’t have time to think, just react. He practically throws himself off the counter and—again, not thinking because who has time for that when someone that good-looking is walking your way—does the only thing he can think of to dispose of the evidence. 

He shoves the rest of the cookie into his mouth. It’s a big fucking cookie, even with only half of it left. 

He never should have come into work today. 

The chime of the door tinkers again when it closes and Denki knows he has about 3.5 seconds before Shinsou reaches the front counter. He chews vigorously, practically suffocating on cookie crumbs and chocolate chips, but it’s all just turned to paste in his mouth and there’s no hope. 

Then, he starts to choke. 

“Should I call emergency services or just let you die.” It hardly sounds like a question and if it is, Shinsou is asking himself.

Denki sputters, standing up from his half-crouch in an attempt to hold on to an ounce of his dignity. But it’s all lost when they make eye contact and Denki knows there’s nothing he can do, so he just holds up a finger to say hold on before spinning around and grabbing the small trash bin under the sink. 

He spits the cookie mush into the bin, eyes watering while he coughs the dust out of his lungs, and prays that death comes swiftly in the next few seconds. 

Denki hates Mina. So, so much. 

Catching his breath, Denki leans forward over the sink and runs the water. He wonders if he should fill it up and drown himself but opts for rinsing his face instead. The eyes boring holes into his back are unrelenting and vicious. He turns around and regrets being born. 

Shinsou is way too goddamn pretty. His eyes drink Denki in, full of judgement and unabashed intensity before blinking back into nonchalance. “He lives.”

Denki can’t help it, he laughs. It’s loud and a bit wet because he hasn’t wiped off his face. What a mess. “Unfortunately.”

Shinsou doesn’t allow for any awkward silences though, just moves the conversation forward with ease. Denki barely has time to feel embarrassed but he knows he’s blushing deeper with every millisecond that ticks by. 

“I left my lunch here earlier, I think. A bag from Café Luna.” 

Denki considers lying because surely that would be the easiest route. He attempts to wipe his face off with the inner elbow of his sweater, nervous. “Oh—uh, I don’t…”

Shinsou holds up a long, slender finger.  Denki wonders what instruments he plays. Maybe he should sign up for one of his lessons, give himself a second-chance to make a good impression. Erase this one from existence. 

He shakes his head, explaining, “You have chocolate smeared on your chin.” An obvious accusation. Denki is so fucked. 

He sighs. “The cookie looked way too good, dude.” It feels good to confess, at least. “I’m sorry,” Denki apologizes, eyes downcast as he pulls at the hem of his sweater. 

“Are you,” Shinsou replies and Denki wants to run out the door but then something happens. Shinsou laughs. It’s a quiet sound, breathy and warm and deep. Denki looks up and smiles brightly because wow, that sounds like music. “I don’t think you are.”

Denki catches something like a smile on the corner of Shinsou’s mouth and it gives him some of his confidence back. Just enough. “Yeaaaah,” he breathes, grinning sheepishly. “It was really tasty so maybe not that sorry.”

“Sorry you got caught.”

“Definitely.”

“A true criminal.” Shinsou nods, something like approval. Then he pulls out his phone to check the time. Denki is already disappointed this interaction is ever going to end, despite his embarrassment. 

“I’ll have the sandwich back at least, I only have ten minutes left of my lunch break. I’m starving.”

No, yeah, Denki is going to fucking murder Mina. He’ll be an actual criminal. 

Denki knows his silence is telling but there’s no cool way to talk himself out of this. Instead he puts on his best pouty smile and apologetic eyes. Shinsou looks so unimpressed until he doesn’t, just annoyed.

He clicks his tongue, sucking air through his teeth like a disappointed parent. “I’m off in three hours.”

Denki pulls a face.  “Oh-kay.” 

Shinsou looks like he wants to roll his eyes. Denki feels hot all over, degraded even though he hasn’t been called any names or chastised. 

The silence makes Denki itchy so he breaks it with a fountain of apologies and offers to pay him back. “Do you have Venmo? Just charge me the cost! My username is 69Pika—”

“Please, stop.”

“Okay.”

Shinsou knocks his knuckles on the counter, looking him over once more before taking a few steps back. Another customer comes in and the bell tinkers twice, open, then close. 

They watch each other for a moment.

“If you’re off in time, you’re buying dinner after my shift. I’ll meet you outside the shop.” Then Shinsou turns and leaves and Denki just smiles because what the fuck else was he supposed to do. 

God, he loves Mina. 

[giorno-plays-piano]

Sinking under Part 2

Pairing: detective!Steve x Reader Warnings: yandere, stalking, death of minor character, allusion to non-con, swearing, brief mention of suicidal thoughts. Words: 1931. Summary: You are suspected of a murder you did not commit. Steve Rogers, a detective employed by the mother of a victim, makes your life even more pitiful than it already is. Part 1 P.S. A big shout-out to awesome @tansypoisoning​ who helped me a lot with this part! If not her, I think I’d never write this :D Sending you lots of love! _____________________________________  You were shaking like a leaf, your hands trembling so badly you couldn’t hold your phone, and Steve quickly put it in the pocket of his formal black pants. He was hugging you close, your head on his chest again like when you had encountered him in a supermarket half a year ago. You were leaving the courtroom. You were not the defendant. You were asked to participate in the trial as a witness.

“You’re a fucking slut!” A woman’s high-pitched voice almost made you deaf. “I KNOW IT WAS YOU! IT WAS YOU! YOU! I’LL SUE YOU, YOU LITTLE BITCH!”

Steve fastened his pace, and the two of you were pretty much running away to the exit, rushing before the crowd would come out of the room. The murderer had been found, and they proved he was guilty for your neighbor’s death, not you. It took them long six months before the judge stated that the best friend of the victim was found guilty as there was more than enough evidence to support his charge. 

Six months. Six months of constant fear for your own life, barely moving outside of your house, being scared to touch your phone to see hate messages from the family of that dead bastard, taking more pills than you had your entire life. Six months of being continuously bullied and followed around. You could hardly count how many times you wanted to jump off the bridge or take too many pills at once.

“It’s alright, it’s alright, darling.” Steve easily pushed through the line of reporters with their microphones, recorders, and cameras. “We’re close, hold on to me.”

All other voices blended into incomprehensible noise: people asking you thousands of questions, someone still yelling from the back, and policemen demanding everyone to keep out the way. You saw nothing, moving fast with Steve to his car. He was your shield; the one who kept protecting you at all costs.

When he found out about hate mails, he simply took your SIM card and gave you a new one with just his name in the list of contacts. When he saw his own employer coming over to your house to harass you with her accusations, he found a cheap apartment in the outskirts of the town and helped you to relocate fast. Steve had been helping with the investigation, tracking every other suspect down and telling you every significant detail he wanted you to know. He followed you too, of course, to pretend he was doing his job and avoid any suspicion. No one needed to know the nature of your relationship.

What was it, anyway? First couple of months it was hard to tell. You felt like he was simply using you to satisfy his own needs, though Steve was a considerate lover to an extent. He could fuck you literally anywhere, including the back of his own car. He enjoyed making a mess out of you, your makeup smeared and hair wild, and sometimes it was either driving you mad or making you frightened. But then he was really great at aftercare, getting very affectionate. He could help you to wipe your face and adjust your clothes carefully, and if you were home he would bring you to the shower and wash your hair so tenderly it could make you cry.

Nonetheless, it felt rather strange he was ready to trade sex for protecting you from the accusations of his employer. You couldn’t understand why he went through all this hassle just for a chance to fuck some girl. With his angelic appearance women would probably line up to get into his bed.

You had finally landed on the car seat, Steve on your left already turned on the engine and moved before you were approached by a few reporters who kept following you.

“You’re safe.” He said softly, turning his head to you and curling his lips in a heartwarming smile. “We’ve won, baby. Fuck all these scumbags, we’re done with this shit.”

You burst into tears with your hands still trembling, and Steve reached out to grab your palm. Forcing yourself to smile back at him, you wiped your face with your other hand. You were lucky he was with you.

“T-thank you, Steve.” You murmured quietly as if you still couldn’t believe it’s over. “Thank for everything you’ve done for me.”

“Come on, darling. I only did what I thought was right.” His smile grew wider at your appreciation of his efforts, and he rubbed your hand. “You can’t imagine how happy I am we’re through this goddamn investigation. It calls for a celebration, don’t you think? I want some champagne and oysters.”

You laughed through tears, shaking your head. Steve had one quality you were always jealous of – he was optimistic. Even at the worst times, he was able to keep his head high and pull himself together. Then he helped you to get through with your issues too. Of course, he demanded to listen to him, to follow the rules he set for you – don’t mess with other men, don’t go where I can’t follow, don’t speak to police unless I instruct you to, don’t leave without telling me first – but it was a small price to pay for the protection he offered.

“Now we don’t have to hide anymore.” Steve turned the car, and you saw he was bringing you to his house. Naturally, celebrating there would be better than in your half-empty apartment since Steve’s place was more comfortable and cozier.

“Do you mean I can finally return to my house?” You thought of the grass on your backyard that probably grew higher than your pretty red fence.

“What?” He sounded surprised. “Why would you want to come back there, right next to the house where that piece of shit died?”

“I can’t keep living in the apartment. I’m very thankful to you, it really became my hideout, but I have my own place.”

“No, baby, come on. Friends of that guy still live in the neighborhood. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.” He brought your hand to his face and left a tender kiss on your knuckles, bringing you to tears again. “You can live with me now before I find a better place for us somewhere else.”

You gaped at him openly and heard your heart pounding in your head. Did he just offered you to live together with him? Was he so scared those men would hurt you for real? Or did it had to do something with your relationship? Wait, no, it couldn’t be. Maybe Steve liked to cuddle and spent some evenings together as if he pretended to be your boyfriend, but you never took it seriously. There was no reason to.

“You mean… you want to live together? Like a couple?”

“Well, yeah?” He flashed his beautiful smile, and you held your breath. “We can start like a couple if you need more time.”

What’s that suppose to mean?

“Steve, I don’t understand anything.” You told him honestly.

“We don’t have to pretend like we’re strangers, darling, since that old bitch can’t do anything anymore. Honestly, I’m tired of dating secretly, aren’t you too? All this precautions, living in different places so that no one knew, hiding from the windows. It was exhausting.”

Although you could agree it was really unnerving, you still didn’t understand why he called it a secret dating. Wasn’t it just… sex?

“Now we can take our relationship to the next level.” Steve was delighted, a bit too exited maybe, and then whistled, turning the car again – you were already in his neighborhood.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything and just kept staring at the man, taken aback by his words. Apparently, you had been missing something very important all these months. But you could swear you had never talked about anything like that before. You didn’t even remember discussing your feelings for each other much.

Obviously, Steve wasn’t happy with your silence, peeping into your absent eyes. He frowned with annoyance: usually you were much more responsive than now, always listening to what he had said.

“What is it, baby?” He asked you, his voice tight. “Don’t you want it?”

You awakened from your stupor and grasped the fabric of your dark blue skirt.

“No, it’s not that… it’s just…” You mumbled, unsure of what to say and feeling a bit scared of his displeasure with you. “We just never talked about it. I thought… I thought you didn’t want t-to be romantically involved.”

Steve blinked at your sudden confession. It took him a moment to put his thoughts together, and he rubbed his forehead with his thumb several times. Meanwhile, you remembered all those times when he brought you nice food and wine, watched movies with you, combed your hair because he really liked how pretty it looked, and made you a shoulder massage when you were too tired. He bought your meds and always took care of your mental health the best way he could. Even if you had never talked about love, do fuck buddies normally do things like that? You were not so sure anymore.

“Damn, I get it.” For some reason he laughed, shaking his head. “I didn’t say it properly to you. You’re right, it’s completely my fault. I took it for granted that you saw me as I saw you, but I’ve never verbally admitted what I wanted from this relationship. I’m sorry, darling. Please, let me do it properly this time.”

You nodded, still feeling uncertain about all this. It felt a bit unreal at best.

“I love you.” He said with a grin and placed his hand on yours again. “You’re my precious little girl, and I want you to be with me. I want to keep you safe. I want you to stay close, so I would be able to protect you.”

You didn’t know why you cried, but your pathetic whimpering made Steve look at you with awe and admiration, his other hand gently caressing your wet face. He unclasped his seatbelt and moved closer to you, kissing your forehead. It only made you cry harder.

“It’ll be alright, baby. I know you’ve been through a lot this half a year. I’ll keep helping you, ok?” He shushed you gently, your phone still in the pocket of his black pants.

“Ok.” You managed to utter between your sobs.

“That’s it, darling.” Watching you with adoration, he took a wet wipe from the box in a car seat pocket and gently rubbed your face with it. “Everything gonna be alright. When you move in with me, I’ll take care of those guys, the friends of your neighbor, and you’ll be safe. But before that, promise you’re gonna listen to me, alright?”

You nodded once again, and Steve carefully wiped the tears streaming down your cheeks.

“You’re so good for me, baby. I’ll take care of you, I promise. Just keep following the same rules we had before I deal with all those fuckheads, and nothing bad gonna happen, believe me.” He was gently rubbing your face with the wet wipe and taking off your smeared makeup, occasionally kissing your face. You kept nodding at him, not even listening to his words properly and trembling again like after leaving the courtroom when your neighbor’s mother shouted behind your back.

It was over. The trial was closed, and you were ought to be safe. But why, why did it feel like nothing had changed?