#I’m surprised that no done this idea yet although I could be wrong and just hadn’t found art of idea yet

[loopyarts]

Here’s a quick coloured digital sketch of Olimar introducing Moss to his kids, who instantly take a liking to her. I imagine this as post pikmin 4 of Olimar taking Moss home with him, who knows maybe I predicted the future, probably not ha ha…

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝟷𝚔 || 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐘

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Just another normal day with the boys.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: Dead poets society x Reader

You’re late to breakfast again, because, let’s be honest, getting up at the crack of dawn isn’t your idea of fun. Neil is already waiting outside your dorm, practically bouncing on his heels.

"You're going to make us late for chemistry," he says, grinning, but you know he doesn’t care. He’s more excited about rehearsals later.

"Please, it’s just chemistry. What’s the worst that could happen?"

Cue Meeks walking by, fiddling with some kind of strange contraption made of wires and gears. “The worst? You could accidentally discover a chemical that wipes out our entire dorm.”

You blink. “…Is that what you’re working on?”

"He's not wrong," Pitts chimes in, balancing a stack of textbooks. “I’m still not sure what we made in class last week. Meeks said it was a radio, but—”

"It was a radio!" Meeks interrupts, offended. “We just… haven’t found a signal yet.”

Charlie greets you all with a dramatic bow at the dining hall entrance, smirking as always. “Ah, if it isn’t my favorite lady. Come, join me for breakfast. I saved you a seat next to yours truly.”

You roll your eyes but take the seat, because let’s face it—arguing with Charlie Dalton is both pointless and highly amusing.

Todd’s already there, quietly poking at his scrambled eggs like they might come alive and attack him. He looks up, glancing at you, then quickly averts his eyes.

“Good morning, Todd,” you say, leaning a little closer just to see if he’ll blush.

He does. "Uh, g-good morning."

Neil slaps him on the back a little too enthusiastically. “Relax, Todd! She’s not going to bite.”

Charlie, leaning back with an exaggerated sigh, stretches an arm across the back of your chair. “Although, she does seem like the type, doesn’t she? A real heartbreaker.”

Neil elbows him before you can respond. “Careful, Dalton, she might take that as a challenge.”

Across the table, Knox is staring wistfully into space, most likely daydreaming about Chris—again. He hasn't touched his food, too busy scribbling something in his notebook, probably a love letter.

“You’re still writing those?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“I think she’ll appreciate the poetry,” Knox says dreamily. “I’ve just got to find the right words. Something that’ll really speak to her soul.”

“Yeah, you and every other lovesick poet in history.” Charlie says, leaning in way too close to you with that smirk. “You know, I could write a love letter… right now… addressed to you.”

“I could throw a book at you right now,” you fire back, raising your diary threateningly. He raises his hands in surrender, but not before tossing in another playful wink.

Todd's buried in a book, his foot tapping nervously under the desk. You nudge him, trying to bring him back to reality. “Relax, Todd, it's just a pop quiz. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Todd looks at you with wide eyes, whispering, “Uh… failing? Public humiliation? Charlie staging a protest because we’re being ‘oppressed by academia’?”

You grin. “I’m surprised Charlie hasn’t done that already.”

Across the room, Pitts and Meeks are still quietly tinkering with the radio, muttering about antenna lengths and frequency adjustments. “Try 89.5,” Pitts suggests.

Meeks sighs. “We’ve tried 89.5 like six times, Pitts.”

Charlie overhears, leaning back in his chair. “Maybe it’s not the signal you’re missing. Maybe the universe just doesn’t want you to hear it.”

You roll your eyes at the dramatics. “Or maybe you two just need to admit your invention is a little cursed.”

Mr. Keating’s class is the highlight, as usual. Today, he’s making everyone stand on their desks to recite poetry.

“Well done!” he says, clapping. “That’s the spirit, seize the day!”

Charlie gets up next and, of course, winks at you mid-recitation. "What is life, if not the pursuit of—”

“Dalton, sit down before you fall,” Keating interrupts, though he’s clearly holding back a smile.

"Today," Keating says with a gleam in his eye, "we’ll be looking at life through a different lens."

Neil nudges you, whispering, "This is gonna be good."

Charlie, lounging in the back, raises his hand. "Mr. Keating, does that lens involve skipping the rest of class for some fresh air?"

Keating grins, not missing a beat. "Now, Nuwanda, where’s the fun in that? We’ve got poetry to read, minds to bend."

Knox is still writing furiously in his notebook, glancing up every so often to see if anyone’s noticed. "Do you think Chris likes daisies? Maybe roses? What if she’s allergic? Should I ask her?"

Neil glances over. "Knox, you haven’t even spoken to her yet."

Todd, beside you, whispers, "Maybe he should just… say hi?"

"You’re all missing the point!" Charlie exclaims, dramatically flinging his arms. "The real romance is right in front of you!" He points to you, leaning in like he’s about to make a grand declaration.

"Charlie, if you flirt with me one more time—"

"You’ll fall in love with me?"

"Absolutely not."

By the time the day winds down, Pitts and Meeks are still muttering over their radio. "Maybe if we try it with a wire hanger," Pitts suggests, looking deeply contemplative. "I swear I heard a sound earlier."

“I think we need to recalibrate the frequency,” Meeks mutters, twisting a knob.

“You’ve been recalibrating the frequency for three days,” you point out, biting into an apple.

“It’s all about persistence,” Pitts says with a determined nod.

“Or delusion,” Charlie adds, stealing your apple out of your hand and taking a huge bite, just to annoy you.

Afternoon rolls around, and you’re barely keeping up in Latin class, but Neil’s right beside you, scribbling notes like a machine. He gives you a reassuring smile, as if to say, You’ll get it. You won’t, but it’s sweet that he believes in you anyway.

After classes, you all meet by the cave for a Dead Poets meeting, the air filled with the smell of damp earth. Charlie’s reciting some scandalous poem he found, Knox is asking for feedback on his latest love letter, and Todd’s nervously glancing at the fire, probably worried it’s going to get out of control. Neil reads Shakespeare with such passion that you’re half convinced he’s going to run off to join a theater company by the end of the week.

By the time the sun sets, you’re all laughing, a little too loud for the quiet woods around you, but who cares? It feels like, for a moment, the whole world belongs to you and this crazy group of boys.

As you head back to the dorms, Charlie walks beside you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “So… you coming to watch me play tonight? I’m thinking of dedicating my next solo to someone very special.”

You laugh, pushing him away. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Dalton.”

He leans closer, voice low. “You can deny it all you want, but we both know you’re just here for my charm.”

“You wish,” you say, shaking your head, but smiling anyway.

Todd trails behind, stammering about needing to study for tomorrow's exam, while Neil drags him back to the group, promising they’ll make time for both. Knox, lost in thought about Chris, sighs dreamily. Pitts and Meeks are still discussing their radio, determined that one day, it will pick up a signal.

As everyone heads back to their rooms, Neil gives you a tired smile. "Another day survived."

You laugh. "Barely."

Todd lingers awkwardly, giving you a shy wave before scurrying off, while Charlie blows you a kiss. "Until tomorrow, my muse."

thank you so much for the request @march32nd!! i loved writing this one 💕

[pigeonpeach]

Love Ambush

Characters: Jean, Navia, Furina, Ayato, Thoma, Neuvillette

Prompt: Surprising your partner by randomly peppering their face with kisses rapidly then acting like nothing happened.

Needless to say Jean wasn’t prepared. She was mid head turn when your hand held her head in place as you covered her face with kisses, leaving no patch unkissed. You pulled away abruptly as you handed her the bouquet behind your back.

“Love you dear, don’t overwork yourself okay?” You said as you set it on the table casually. She was stunned before her brain started to process it all, blush crept up her cheeks.

“I- won’t thank you dear. Just give me a warning next time.” She said fixing her hair as you smiled victoriously.

“My humble servant, it has been approximately 2 hours since I have seen you!~ i demand attention this instant!” Furina proclaimed as she held onto the groceries bags, Crabletta, Chevalmarin, an Usher carrying the rest. Before she could even set them down you launched your attack. Holding her face gently as she closed her eyes leaning her cheek out to accept your onslaught. Her small smile grew as she readily accepted each smooch. You kissed her nose, her forehead, each cheek, her temples, her lips, anywhere that you could. You pulled away as you wiped your lips, taking some of the bags with a smile. “Welcome home dear.” You gave her one last kiss as she smiled.

“Did I say you could stop?”

“I understand that you’ve missed me dear bu-mm could you at least let me- finish my sentence.” Neuvillette was used to your antics at this rate, although he was s little nervous with it being in his office. There wasn’t anything wrong with kisses, but he didn’t want people to get the wrong idea. He is a ‘man’ of many things, justice, refinement, respect and power, how would anyone react to seeing how he lets his partner overpower him him, pinning him to his chair as they lavish him with kisses?

“No.” You spoke quickly as you immediately continued your work. He tried to lean his head to watch the door but you simply followed it to continue the smooching. He sighed in defeat, but you knew he was enjoying every moment of contact between you, wether or not he’d admit it. You heard a little rumble in chest confirming your suspicions.

“I suppose as long as no one is watching. I have a reputation to maintain.”

“When others are around you are the iudex, but alone you are my canvas and I will lather my lipstick onto you until you are undoubtedly mine.” You smiled at your attempt to speak the way he does. He chuckled slightly as he moved some hair out your face.

“I see, its a possessive behavior on your part, then I shall reciprocate the gesture with my own.”

You thought you could just leave so easily? Ambush Navia with a smooch fest then ditch? Absolutely not! You hardly got one inch away before she hooked her fingers around your hair and tugged you back, turning you and surprising you with her own smooch ambush! Kisses upon kisses with little time inbetween! Her lipstick smudged as she held you to the wall not allowing you to escape your karma! After some time she pulled away with a smug look in her eyes.

“Prepare yourself, I’m not done just yet!” She triumphantly proclaimed as she dove back in.

“In surprised you were able to hold back for so long.” Kamisato Ayato was many things, rich, well known, powerful, but being a sucker for his dearest’s antics wasn’t a widely known attribute. But it was the truth. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you two were seated on the floor. He merely smiled as you raided his face with your lips. Although the gloss on your lips wasn’t as noticeable as lipstick, the glitter would prove difficult for so long.

It is standard practice in Inazuma to not show alot of PDA when guests are present, so you always saved ever urge and every intrusive thought for the moment you two were alone. He wasn’t one to complain, not one bit.

“Should I return the favor? We have about a hour or so before the next meeting.” He said softly as his hand nestled in your hair.

“If only it was the whole day.” You pouted. He smiled as he laid a smooch onto your lips.

“We’ll continue afterwards if you like. Just let me take control for a bit.” He spoke.

“I can’t get it off!” Thoma stared at the mirror as he dabbed the cloth in the bucket and scrubbed his face. the many many lipstick marks were stubborn and refused to come off. You smirked as he struggled to remove it.

“Your face is red enough now, they’ve completely blended in.” You tease, laying a kiss to his neck, at this rate however your lipstick had been worn out so it only left a faint mark as he groaned.

“I love you too but I have to train new staff today! You could’ve warned me that you were going to wear lipstick when you did this.” He sighed,unable to hold any annoyance towards you.

[tgmsunmontue]

Get your motor runnin' - 2/6

Bradley, a bit of a (very talented) grease monkey and Jake, who has been sent to see him because he's apparently the best mechanic Maverick knows.

A longer fleshed out fic at the request of @poetryandpickles based on their idea in this post. Likely going to be 3-4 parts and likely an excuse for lots of smut. Just as an FYI.

PART ONE

PART TWO

                Bradley isn’t sure why Mav insists on sending work his way, it’s not like he needs it. And North Island is not down the road or around the corner. Not that he doesn’t mind the scenery, the man standing in front of him clearly regretting his life choices that brought him out her to the middle of not-quite nowhere with a car Bradley hasn’t even looked at yet. God. He doesn’t even know the make or model, and if it’s a newer car he’s going to have to go and get the diagnostic reader from his little house that’s hidden around the back.

                “What’s your name?”

                “Jake. Jake Seresin.”

                “Hmm. Nice to meet you. Now walk me through what’s wrong with your car.”

                “More like what’s not wrong,” Jake mutters and Bradley barks out a laugh, walks out beside Jake and winces under the unforgiving glare of the sun, doesn’t have his aviators and raises his hand to at least block the sun as he takes in the 2007 Toyota Camry and pulls a face. Of course it’s a fucking 2007 model. He listens as Jake lists off issues, not surprised to hear about the potential engine problems, or the melting dashboard, although the pooling water is something he’s not come across particular to this make and model. He’d bet good money it’s stored outdoors while Jake is deployed as well as near the ocean.

                “You have the service records?”

                “Uh…”

                “For your car,” Bradley clarifies, his lips twitching in amusement.

                “Oh. Uh yeah, in the glove compartment.”

                “Thanks. Keys?”

                He catches the keys one handed over the hood, nods his thanks. Bradley needs to look, because there were so many problems with this make and model, an accelerator pedal recall not being the least of the problems, there were also issues with brakes and wheels and he really needs to know what he’s working with and what work, if any, has already been done on the car. The idea of anyone driving around a ticking time bomb causes his skin to itch. There’re potential issues with the transmission as well for this year, along with heavy oil consumption. It’s a fucking dud of a car.

                “Did you buy it new or second hand? I’m going to need to take it for a quick spin. Want to jump in?”

                “You don’t need to lock up?”

                “I’m just going up and down, it’ll be fine…”

                He slides into the driver’s seat, waves away Jake’s apologies about the mess, because he’s seen far worse, is just hoping he doesn’t leave grease stains on any of the upholstery, but at least Jake doesn’t seem precious about it. He turns the ignition and oh yeah, crunchy. He sucks his lips into his mouth and eases it out of his drive and into the road, listening carefully, and yeah, it’s not as bad as it could be but he’s certain it could be a damn sight better. He heads back, the short drive enough to confirm things.

                “What? You making a face. What’s wrong?”

                “Well, you listed a lot already, but I’m going to need to check the transmission. But I want to go over the service records and see what has already been done. And you didn’t answer me. New or used?”

                “Used.”

                “Okay. Let me have those papers.”

                Jake hands him a collection of papers and he’s pleasantly surprised at how well organised it all is considering the rest of the car. There’s a solid seven years of records, all in chronological order and held together with a clip, but then there’s change of ownership papers from 2014, and again in 2017, showing when Jake apparently bought it. The accelerator pedal recall was carried out and documented properly, and the transmission has already been fixed.

                “What’s wrong with it? I was told it was a good car when I bought it…”

                “2006 was a good year. 2007 was very definitely not. They started getting good again around 2013. But looks like the first owner was pretty diligent.”

                “Yeah. It was like, the grandmother of some guy, and then he got it, and I bought it from him.”

                “And you don’t drive it that much, which has its own pros and cons. Lower wear and tear, but if the engine isn’t getting turned over regularly it isn’t good for the battery, but also engine fluids start to break down, parts that aren’t getting lubricated begin to corrode…”

                “Can you fix it?”

                “Yeah. Haven’t met a car yet I can’t fix.”

…            …            …

                He’s not quite sure what he’ll do if Bradshaw can’t fix it, despite his confidence. He can still drive it, even if the list of things wrong with it is growing longer every time he turns the ignition. Assuming Bradshaw doesn’t make it undrivable. His confidence is… attractive though. He drives Jake’s car directly into an empty bay and the immediate shade makes it feel several degrees cooler immediately.

                “Right. I hope you brought a book or have lots of data on your phone, because town is a little walk away…”

                “I can hang out, just point me to where I’m out of the way.”

                Weirdly there’s a little comfy set up in the corner with two worn loungers, little coffee table with some books and a pile of magazines, some Aviation Traders which makes him wonder if Bradshaw works on planes as well. There’s a small fridge and Bradshaw tells his to help himself, pulling a bottle of water out for himself and Jake tries not to outright stare as Bradshaw drinks the entire bottle in one go. Drool. He grabs a bottle of water for himself, definitely needing to cool down a little. Then Bradshaw’s sauntering off, and baggy grease-stained coveralls should not somehow be that sexy. He’s left to the music of the radio and the sounds of Bradshaw doing whatever he needs to do to ensure Jake’s car won’t unintentionally kill him.

                He plays around on his phone for about thirty minutes, resists the urge to take a sneaky photo of Bradshaw bending over and sending it to Trace, because she’d at least appreciate it, even while telling him off for taking pictures of people without their permission. Then he picks up one of the battered books and decides to start reading, it’s a romance novel but it’s clearly going to have a happy ending.

                Then he hears Bradshaw start to sing, and surprisingly he has a nice singing voice, clearly going into his own little world and forgetting Jake’s presence completely. Sings loud and sweet along to the radio and Jake can’t help but find it endearing. He even catches him playing the air guitar and air drums at different points and it’s pretty much all the entertainment he needs, although Eric and Alexandra’s relationship has at least caught his interest, Eric’s own family being so much like his own he can feel a sick sense of camaraderie for the fictional character.

                Hours slip past, the temperature drops, lights flicker on, bright in a different way. The sun is no doubt kissing the horizon somewhere he can’t see, judging by the pink and orange hues the sky is turning, from what he can see through the one raining open roller door. He’s over half-way through the book and he’s starting to feel like it doesn’t have a happy ending, and he quickly scans the back, stomach sinking as he reads the blurb. The title should have also given him a clue…

                “All finished.”

                His head snaps up.

                “What? Really?”

                “Yep. I’ve fixed up everything with the engine. Running like a dream now. Gave her new brake pads and did a wheel alignment. I mean, you’re still going to have to book her in for a proper overhaul of the seals, because salt and sun’s a bitch on rubber, so I’d recommend getting a cover for her when you’re deployed if you can’t get her stored inside somewhere. Also the drainage holes were blocked, which was why there was water accumulating, and I’ve re-gassed your aircon as well, and fixed the hole in the condensing tube which should stop the water dripping into the footwell on the passenger side.”

                Jake blinks, because that sounds like a lot of work.

                “Wow. Okay. Thanks. Seriously man, I didn’t think when I headed out here about the practicalities of everything. Really appreciate it.”

                “Well, I don’t normally accept walk-ins, but if Mav is sending them,” he shrugs, like he is used to Mav getting what he wants and Jake guesses he does. “And you drove all this way. Couldn’t really turn you away. Come on, let me ring you up…”

                Jake follows him, reaching into his pocket for his wallet, and yeah, when he looks at the printout there are quite a few parts, and five hours of labor, which doesn’t seem to match the actual hours he’s worked, and he wonders if he should question it. He doesn’t, swipes his card and considers it a bargain. The Bradshaw is handing him his keys along with a receipt and the printout.

                “And you’re free to go. Not stuck here.”

                “Hmm. Can I interest you in dinner?” Jake asks, because he’s got to ask, he doesn’t have to see the guy ever again if he says no. From the way Bradshaw’s slowly smiling at him he’s feeling pretty confident about the answer and he smiles slowly back in response.

                “Actually dinner? Or… I mean. I have a bed not even twenty yards away…”

                “Yeah? Show me?”

                “What? Never seen a bed before?” Bradshaw asks and fuck yeah, Jake likes guys who are a little bit snarky.

                “Not one with you in it…”

                “Smooth. Come on. It's a nice bed.”

PART THREE

(For the love of god do not ever buy a 2007 Toyota Camry).

[sirianasims]

Chapter 43.9

I arrive at GeekCon both sweaty and with a vague sense of unease. The stifling heatwave has turned the city into a pressure cooker, and it feels foreboding, like something terrible is building and about to break free.

I’m greeted by my own face by the door, advertising the panel that I’m supposed to be on this morning. I never got comfortable seeing myself like this, I prefer it when they just use the logo or my masked promo pictures. At least today is the last time I’ll appear as Llama Man in any official capacity, and then…

Then I don’t know.

But there’ll be time to figure that out later, right now I’m about to see Julia again. I can’t believe it’s only been a year since we met, and I have no idea how she feels about me right now.

I spent most of the night in my hotel room tossing and turning, thinking about what I’ll say to her, but I still don’t have a plan. I just want to apologise for ending things so abruptly.

It really wasn’t my best work.

She said she just wanted to be with you. And then you dumped her.

I groan inwardly as I scan the faces of everyone I see. There’s no sign of her, but the cosplay competition isn’t until later, she may not have arrived yet.

I wonder if she’ll refuse to speak to me at all. I wouldn’t blame her, but she never seemed like the type to carry a grudge. I just want to see her and make sure she’s not too upset about how things ended, something I should have done months ago.

I need to make sure she doesn’t hate me. I can’t handle if she hates me.

I guess I’ll have to play it by ear, although Lee would tell me that’s not my strongest suit.

I leave my jacket in the wardrobe and linger a bit, fiddling with my VIP bracelet. The gallery’s air-conditioning is working overtime, and it helps a little with the heat but I still feel uneasy. My eyes are drawn to the bathroom door.

If this was a movie, Julia would come out of the bathroom right now, exactly like last time. Our eyes would meet. A beat, as the camera cut from her face to mine, both of us too surprised to speak. I would recover first, tell her that we can’t keep meeting like this, and her face would crack into a smile. Then she’d leap into my arms and I would kiss her like there were no tomorrow.

Get it together, Romeo. She’s not kissing you ever again, you’re going to be lucky if she even speaks to you. Focus. You’re at work.

At least I’m not in full costume this year, I would probably have died from heatstroke. And it would have made me feel silly trying to have a serious conversation with Julia.

I decide to take a quick tour of the convention floor before the panel starts.

Even though it’s still early in the day, there’s people everywhere. Some tabletop role-players are recording their podcast on location, kids are running around, and several people are dressed up despite the heat. I wish Julia had shown me pictures of the costume she was planning so I knew what to look for.

A woman with long, red hair makes me do a double take, but I know it isn’t Julia before she even turns around, the way she moves is wrong. I know every inch of Julia’s body and this isn’t it. Everything Julia is, the way she walks and talks and laughs is imprinted on my brain, and it feels like I should be able to locate her by telepathy, by following some sort of invisible string tying me to her.

“Uh, Mr. Romeo! Sorry, hello.”

“Oh, hey. Edmund, right?”

The young man beams, clearly pleased that I remember his name. His booth was next to mine last year, we talked about old movies. I wish I could introduce Julia to him, she would have loved to discuss Cow Plant Love with an expert.

“Wait, you do know him? I thought you were lying!” The teenage girl next to him sounds somewhere between impressed and angry.

“Yeah, why would I lie about that? Sorry, sir, this is my sister Liz, she’s a big fan of Llama Man.”

“Can I have your autograph? I collect them, I already got the Coolala guy and the Freezer Bunny lady this morning. Oh, and can you make it out to ‘Lizette’, with a Z, please?”

“Of course. That’s a very cool costume, Lizette with a Z.”

“I made it myself! It’s Michelle from Doherty’s Revenge, have you seen it? The one with the zombie gym teacher?”

“Oh? Haven’t heard of it, do you think I should watch it?”

“You have to, it’s so good! I used to think it was actually really scary but now I just think it’s funny. Me and Edmund watch a lot of like, retro movies with dad, we even watched the really old Llama Man movies once. I’m gonna tell my dad I met you, he won’t believe it!”

“I’m flattered. Thanks for the movie recommendation, I’ll make sure to check it out.” I hand her the autograph before waving goodbye to Edmund who mouths a silent thank you.

Retro.

I know everything seems ancient to a teenager, but the word tastes like dusty VHS tapes, like lava lamps and shag carpets, like mid-century kitchens. This is my demographic, I suppose, nostalgic dads and their excitable kids.

Julia is not in the panel crowd either, but I guess that would have been too much to hope for. I would probably have found her presence too distracting anyway.

I know one of the other panellists, Mei Zhang, the iconic voice of the Freezer Bunny for over fifteen years. We’ve met briefly at conventions and even on a few gigs, but never really got a chance to speak much.

The third panellist is a young man named Andy Okeke, who seems to be voicing a few Voidcritters as well as a bear-like creature I’ve never heard of. It’s his first time on a panel, but he’s already annoyingly good for his age, and I can imagine him having a pretty impressive career at the speed he’s going.

I answer the same questions I’ve answered a million times before and try to find some sort of comfort in the fact that it’s the last time. As much as I loved my job, it got repetitive after almost a decade. Maybe I should get that number for Sierra’s agent, try to get back on screen. Maybe I’ve grown too complacent, stagnant.

Finally, the questions dry up and the last people leave the room, and just like that, I’m free from my contract. It doesn’t feel like freedom, though, more like a free fall.

“Hey, Romeo, wait up.” Mei stops me by the doors.

“How are you doing? It must be so weird.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know what I’ll do if they ever retire Bunny.”

“You’ll still have others, won’t you?”

“I know, but I’m known for Freezer Bunny, not for… four or five Voidcritters. I can’t even keep track of their names, which is ironic since it’s all they ever say.”

I’m not sure how to respond so I just nod. I’m impatient to get to the cosplay competition, but I don’t want to be rude.

“Mei, it was great seeing you again, but I’m in a bit of a hurry, actually.”

“Sure. Would you – would you want to grab coffee some time, though?”

Shit. Before Julia, I would have gladly followed Mei home tonight, maybe we’d even go on a couple of real dates before things fizzled out as they normally do. But right now, every muscle in my body is telling me that I have to go, to move, to be somewhere else.

“Sorry, I’m, uh. Maybe another time, I don’t…”

The giant poster of my face is judging my lame attempt at stringing together a sentence, and I’m painfully aware that the woman behind us has been sweeping the same spot for a minute now, pretending not to eavesdrop.

“I’m a big girl, Romeo. If you’re not interested, that’s fine.”

“Right. I am sorry, though, it’s not…” I mumble something politely incoherent and more or less flee the room.

Fuck. One year and I’ve completely lost my touch.

I hurry up the stairs, the competition must be just about to end. I can see through the doors before I even reach them, all of the contestants are on stage – and she’s not there.

I stand in front of the doors, frozen, arm still outstretched. This doesn’t make sense, she loves this, she told me about the costume she was planning, she should be here.

There’s no time to dwell on why I so desperately need to see her again, what I would even say to her, the only thing left is fear.

What if something has happened to her? Would I ever know? We’re not together anymore and we have no friends in common, no one who would think of me or assume I’d want to know if she got hurt or sick.

She could be dead. She could be dead and I would never know.

I’m vaguely aware that I’m spiralling but I can’t stop, I feel dizzy. The heat and the lights and the people, everything is too much and I can barely see.

Somehow my feet carry me outside, to the very same bench where we talked for hours on that first night. I try to breathe, deep breaths, but the air is too warm and feels thick.

My hands shake as I log into the anonymous account I made during a moment of weakness after she blocked me, and I pull up her social media in the hopes that she posted something recently, anything that can reassure me that she’s fine.

Relief floods through me when I see the timestamp on her latest updates. San Sequoia Aquarium, just a couple of hours ago. But the relief dissipates quickly as I scroll through the photos.

Nestled between fish and family pictures, there are two selfies with her friend Marten.

I stare at them, suddenly feeling numb.

Her eyes are shining like stars in the lights from the tanks. She’s smiling, and so is he. His arm is around her, possessively, and there’s a hint of triumph in his eyes that I don’t like.

He seems to be carrying her on his back in the other photo, and the thought of her legs wrapped around him awakens an urge to tear him away from her that is almost suffocating.

If they’re not already dating, it’s a matter of time. They would probably have gotten together a long time ago if I hadn’t been there. A petty part of me wonders if he was really being her friend or just biding his time, waiting for me to fumble, but that’s crazy. I barely know the guy. Actually, I don’t really know any of Julia’s friends, I just have a vague idea about their names and who they were to her.

I wasn’t a very good boyfriend, was I?

I told you it was better this way.

I’ve kept reminding myself that I didn’t make a mistake, and here’s proof at last. This was meant to be, they were meant to get together, I just happened to get in the way. He’s been a good friend to her, nice and considerate, while I only brought her chaos and pain.

I was so worried that Julia was wasting my time, but all along, I was the one wasting hers. She deserves better, I know this, but it still feels like I lost her all over again.

I put away the phone and take a deep breath of the scorching air. And then I reach for the tiny, secret corner of my heart where I was nursing my last hope of getting her back and stomp it out.

beginning / previous / next

[munsonluhvr]

THE FIRST DATE

contents: this is a steddie x reader one-shot. sfw! you and steve are dating, happily in love, when you meet eddie munson and are intrigued by his charismatic personality. everyone is caught by surprise when you all end up going on your first date as a throuple. word count - 1.6k

Your heart thumps against your chest as you sit in the back of Eddie Munson’s van, the two back doors open as you sit in the middle of Steve and Eddie. In your mind, though you aren’t particularly religious, you say a prayer that this date goes well and that Eddie’s van doesn’t explode from the tension that’s between the three of you.

It all started when Steve Harrington, your boyfriend of several years, was introduced to Eddie Munson by Dustin Henderson, a mutual friend of both Steve and Eddie. You had been there too, beside Steve, when Dustin introduced Eddie as his friend and leader of the club Dustin was so loyal to - the Hellfire Club. It was obvious from the very beginning that Eddie found you stunning, his cheeks flushing with nerves as you gave him a hug, glad to meet another friend of Dustin’s. It had surprised Steve when he was turned on, only a little, when he noticed Eddie’s obvious attraction to you. Although you’d never admit it out loud, especially to Steve, you found Eddie Munson handsome, sweet and charming. There was something so cute, so endearing and genuine about Eddie. He was shamelessly funny, joking around with you, Dustin, and Steve with ease.

It had taken several days for Steve to bring the interaction with Eddie up to you. “So that Eddie guy,” Steve had said, glancing at you. You were sitting in his room, nestled on his bed watching while he picked up his clothes that were thrown about the room. “He obviously thought you were cute.”

You had laughed, amused. “Oh really? What made you notice, the fact that he blushed when I hugged him or the way his eyes took in my entire body,” you said, glancing at Steve to see if he was mad or amused too. “Are you jealous?”

Steve snorted, shaking his head. “I’m not jealous, I was actually turned on by it.”

You frowned, now staring at Steve. “What?”

Steve paused picking up his clothes, tossing them into the hamper. “Listen, and don’t think I’m weird, but I don’t know, I found it kind of hot that another guy liked you.” Steve’s eyes moved off of you to the floor and then back to you. “You think I’m weird don’t you?”

You shook your head, realizing that your mouth was slightly agape. “No, I-, I’m just confused, Steve. What are you saying?”

Steve shrugged, “I don’t know, I saw this program on tv about people that have a third partner in their relationship, you know polygamy, throuples. I thought it might be interesting to add a third person, maybe somebody as unique as Eddie to our relationship.”

Your jaw dropped then, totally blown away by your long-term boyfriend’s admission. Steve had never suggested such an idea before, something so out there as being in a trouple relationship. As caught off guard as you were, you acknowledged that Steve had never done you wrong in your relationship, not once in the several years you had been dating. He’s always been loyal, kind and caring; he wouldn’t suggest something that would ruin that perfect track record. You decided to go with it, loosening the tight reigns that you had held throughout your entire relationship with Steve.

It was frightening, to say the very least, when you and Steve approached Eddie with such an offer. Eddie was equally caught off guard, yet intrigued. Eddie knew nothing about him was normal; he’d been labeled a freak for as long as he could remember, he was a nerd, a drug dealer, and comes from an interesting family background. Why couldn’t he add polygamist to that long list? You and Steve seemed to being decent people, obviously in a stable relationship, must be a little freaky to come up with an idea to add Eddie to your relationship. In the end, Eddie agreed to try the arrangement out, joining you and Steve on a date night.

You’re at the Hawkin’s drive in theater viewing ‘Aliens,’ what is allegedly supposed to be the hit movie of the year. Eddie had offered to bring his van for the three of you to sit in, the back of it leaving a lot of space to hang out and stretch your legs while you watched the movie. The drive in theater is packed, much of Hawkin’s High utilizing the opportunity to screen the movie on the extended weekend.

Beside you, Eddie and Steve converse fluidly around you, bending in front of you and behind you to pass comments and continue conversation. You sit between the boys, zoning out at the reality of the entire situation, of what you’re doing sandwiched between the two handsome boys. Although this idea of being a throuple with Eddie and Steve is new, a part of you wants it to work. Having one sweet guy in your life was amazing, but having two? Could you really be that lucky? Occasionally, Steve nudges your arm with his hand, attempting to include you in the conversation.

“Did you hear that, babe?” Steve says, bringing you out of your thoughts. “Eddie plays at The Hideout in a band; he invited us to go watch him sometime.”

You hum, offering a smile. “That would be awesome, we’d love to.”

You were pleased that the two boys were getting along so well with each other, conversation flowing between them with ease, which just made the possibility of Eddie officially joining your relationship more real. It was all settling in to your mind though, each passing minute allowing you to adjust to the reality that it will no longer be just you and Steve but you, Steve and Eddie. That could be good though; the more the merrier is how the saying goes, right?

The movie begins a few minutes later, although you couldn’t tell by the way Steve and Eddie continue to converse. Thankfully, when you three had arrived at the drive in, the theater attendants told Eddie to park the van in the back row since his car was tall and would block other’s view of the screen if it was anywhere but the back row. This fact also ensured that Steve and Eddie’s antics wouldn’t interrupt other’s movie experience.

You tried to keep your attention on the movie at first, however, it became hard to do that when Steve made a game of tossing popcorn into Eddie’s mouth. You couldn’t help it anymore; you joined in on the fun, tossing the small, round candies that you had bought from the concession stand into Eddie’s mouth too. The game flips eventually, Steve now on the receiving end various foods being thrown at him. Through the course of the two hour movie, you, Steve and Eddie had done a cart wheel contest on the open space next to the van, which is where you learned Steve can’t do a single cartwheel and Eddie is talented at entry level gymnastics moves.

Steve had always made you laugh, his sense of humor always hitting your funny bone, yet Steve and Eddie together was overwhelming and you couldn’t remember the last time you had laughed so hard. To be honest, Steve and Eddie are near perfect for each other, able to find things to talk about with ease. They were two completely different kinds of guys: Steve came from an upper class background, a more clean-cut, typical guy while Eddie was eccentric and unique, a weedhead, an artist and nerd of the game ‘Dungeons and Dragons.’ Nonetheless, the way they acted on this date was as if they’ve known each other forever.

After all the games, you sit, tired, on the edge of the backside of the van. Steve moves from the open space next to the van to sit beside you, wrapping his arm around the front of you and leaning back against the side of the van. Your back leans against Steve’s chest, his arm securing your position. You notice Eddie lingering to the side, eyeing you and Steve’s position. You feel bad for a moment, knowing that he feels out of place.

You pat your lap. “Come sit with us, Eddie. There’s lots of space for you too,” you say with a soft smile. Behind you, Steve smiles, then glances back at the movie screen. He attempts to understand the movie, the scenes that play out not making any sense as he missed the first half of the movie due to horse playing with you and Eddie. Steve gives up after only a few seconds.

Eddie moves to where you and Steve sit, climbing into the back of his car to join you both. You help Eddie arrange himself among you and Steve, suggesting that Eddie lays between your legs, his head resting on his your lap. Eddie does so, taking the second to ask Steve for approval.

“Is this okay, Steve? To lay on your girl, I mean.” Eddie asks cautiously

Steve smiles, gesturing towards you who still lays against his chest. “Go for it, man. She’s your girl now too.” A smile tugs at the corner of your lips, not very surprised at the calm, euphoric feeling from the way being both Steve and Eddie girlfriend and from the way Steve easily accepts Eddie without jealousy or hesitation.

Eddie softens, laying his head onto your lap gently. His arms wrap around your legs, your body now his personal pillow. Your hands go into Eddie’s hair automatically, mostly out of habit as it’s what Steve likes when he lays like Eddie does.

Down below, Eddie purrs with content. “I can get used to this easily.”

[fuckmycrane]

I was thinking about something… Maybe you could write a fic in which Neil wakes up embarrassed from a wet dream about the reader. He decides to get up and get some relief in the bathroom, but she ends up helping him with it instead.

I love your writing btw!

— CW: 18+, smut!. Handjob, blowjob, slight voyeurism/stalking, Neil being a whiny baby! (Not proofread!)

— a/n: I did this instead of paying attention to my class. I’m so happy to answer requests 💌.

Of course he forgot to close the bathroom door.

With a hand around his cock, Neil sits on the toilet, handing his head and biting his lips to keep his pathetic noises to the minimum. His blue checkered boxers stretch around his ankles, he simply couldn’t wait to get his hand around his dick.

His AC is broken and you were kind enough to let him sleep on your couch— and this is how Neil repays you?

To be fair, Neil had no idea his brain would evoke such a lewd dream about you although it makes total sense since he watched a porno by himself last week… and when the actress looked exactly like you. He knows he has to make it quick, so he fists himself faster, the slick sound of his precum and saliva— because Neil is incapable of jerking off without spitting on his dick— echoing through the small bathroom.

Neil whines, closing his eyes and hanging his head. He’s getting carried away, just like he always does when he masturbates. His ears aren’t unable to register more than his own lewd sounds and small, pathetic self-talk.

“You feel so g—good” He says under his breath, sliding his hand underneath his worn tee to pinch his nipples. His chest arches at the sensation, and he momentarily forgets where he is. “I love your pussy so much… fuckkk— so perfect, so pretty”

Dragging your bunny slippers across your apartment, you yawn and wrap the soft robe around your frame. Slow, groggy steps guide you to the bathroom, still too drowsy to gain total consciousness of your surroundings. Reaching the bathroom door, you notice it’s open, it is just a small crack but you recognize Neil’s messy hair— and the sound of your name. It is as if a bucket of cold water fell over your head. Your hand covers your mouth to silence the gasp of surprise that the image of your best friend seeking relief in your bathroom, in your apartment, moaning your name, probably thinking you are asleep. Standing next to the door, you know it’s wrong to violate his privacy like this… but, didn’t he violated your privacy first by doing such a filthy thing inside your house?

That makes sense. It totally does.

You admire how his breath hitches, and you are unable to peel your eyes off his cock. It’s so pretty, and he is so hard— you wonder what got him so riled up… it has to do something with you, obviously, since he is moaning your name in such a desperate manner. Clenching your thighs together, you find yourself helpless upon witnessing such a beautiful sigh; You wish it was your hand wrapped around him— shit even your mouth. You desire to be the one pinching his adorable, perky nipples making him shudder and moan.

Your hand cups your core, rubbing yourself against the heel of your hand, unquestionably soaking the thin material of your pajama shorts. Neil chokes a moan, squeezing the base of his cock to prolongue his orgasm as much as he can— inside his mind, you are on your knees, sucking his balls while your hands wander up and down his dick.

Yet— that creepy feeling of being watched washes over Neil, causing him to flutter his glassy eyes open. He meets your gaze, the prettiest set of eyes staring at him from the shelter that the hallway’s darkness provides. He gasps a dreadful, embarrassed sob, covering his crotch as much as possible. He is screwed, he is done.

There’s no point in hiding now. Your hands trembles as you open the door, facing Neil. His eyes are wide, he looks like a child being caught doing something he’s not supposed to— which is basically the nature of the situation. He calls your name hurriedly, shaking his head and apologizing profusely.

“Neil” His name is a ragged breath that your lungs exhale, your body feels on fire. Slowly, testing the waters, you kneel in front of him, gently removing his hands from his crotch, allowing him to stop you if he really wants to— but he doesn’t. He will never stop you.

“Oh my god—” He whines, thrusting his hips when your tongue lands on his swollen tip. This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening—

You lower your head fitting as much of his cock as your throat allows you, and Neil realizes…

This is happening.

You never expected him to be the moaner type— but every little sound and curse he says makes the wetness pooling between your legs worse. His sounds are delightful, and when you pick up a faster pace, his moans grow louder. Neil wants to warn you, to tell you he is about to come, but it’s too much— the warmth of your mouth, the way you are sucking him so fucking good, how your hand sneaks and fondles with his balls— shit— he is releasing every single drop deep down your throat and he still can’t believe you are swallowing it all.

Panting, sweating, practically sobbing from the raw pleasure, his mouth feels drier than the remote Sierra Madre mountains featured in the Award winning movie The treasure of the Sierra Madre. He watches your every move, how you wipe your mouth, how your stand up and cup his face to kiss him— this is fucking happening.

He whispers your name, which draws a smile form your lips.

“Next time ask for help, dummy.”

[k-dokja]

Life is so much better when you don’t take anything seriously 🫠 Kayden x f!reader.

“…What?” You cross your arms, meeting Gestella’s eyes without flinching. For all you know, you haven’t done anything wrong to receive her attention. Maybe she wants your hair care routine, you can’t tell with her glaring at you in silence for the past few minutes.

“What is your relationship with Kayden?” She asks point blank, making you raise your eyebrows in surprise. Truthfully, you expect that this conversation might come at some point, but you had thought she’d dance around the topic longer.

“Why does it matter?” You shoot your own question in return, leaning back on the couch with the blasé confidence you associate to your beloved pain in the ass more than anything.

Gestella’s eyes narrow by a minuscule margin before she tears her attention away from. “Tch…”

“Hey!” Her lackey, whatever her name is, blows up in the place of Gestella. More than a few times now, you’ve seen her inserting into the conversation when Gestella’s social ineptitude fails her. But you struggle to think of her as anything but Gestella’s mouthpiece when speaking for her boss is all she does. “My lady demands an answer from you!”

You’d assume Gestella has already given up on the idea, but her lackey seems to think otherwise.

“I’m his supplier,” you drawl, barely holding back a snicker, “he’s horribly addicted, you see, can’t live without having a whiff of it every day.”

“Addicted?” Gestella frowns. “To what?”

You shrug, “Can’t say,” you lower your voice conspiratorially, “it’s privacy protection for my client you see.”

Her ire heats up the entire room, but once again, she gives up without pressing you. With another click of her tongue, she turns away from you. “Pathetic…” She mutters before taking her leave, vanishing into the thin air.

With her departure, you contemplate visiting Jiwoo less often. There is more than enough to deal with now that Kayden is suffering from his long recovery, you don’t need some silly drama on your plate to complicate everything. Besides, it’s not like you have anything more you can do for him at this point, it’s all on him to expedite his healing now.

“Huh, was Gestella just here?” Kayden’s familiar voice penetrates your musing as he paces towards you from the stairways.

“Yeah,” you tilt your head towards him in acknowledgment, draping your arms over the couch, “done for the day?”

Kayden leaps on the couch gracefully, padding over to curl up on your laps, “Not yet,” he says, “one more thing.”

Without giving you any other warning, he buries his entire face into your chest, drawing a lungful of breath before groaning in contentment. “That’s so much better.” His words are punctuated by heavy nuzzling into your soft flesh, rubbing his scent all over your torso.

With his final grumbles, Kayden plops back down, bearing a content and lazy smile on his mouth, “You should stay here everyday, save me the trip to your place to recharge while I’m this weak.”

“Isn’t this crowded enough with all the cats and… dog?” You snort, but the corner of your mouth curves into a smirk. “Besides… you could use the exercise.”

”Hey, that’s no way to talk to the love of your life.” Kayden huffs, lashing his tail at your face. “What’s the point to your cat form if you don’t use it, anyway? Yours is far more compact than any of us.”

“Some of us don’t enjoy being an animal all day, weirdo,” you swat his backside, making him jump slightly, “although, I don’t oppose to you staying in this, you’re much more tolerable this way.”

Kayden growls, “You’re just profiting off being bigger than me for once,” he snaps back at you, but the fury in his eyes dim into a smouldering gaze when his sight lands on your chest once more, “still, can’t deny that you’re much more delectable as you are… good enough to eat—”

“Ehem.”

You both turn in time to see Kartein mid-coughing. He adamantly refuses to meet your eyes, and the same goes for Pluto, who sits by him. But the muttering Kartein makes is directed towards the two of you anyway. “Just reminding you that there are other people in the room.”

“Tch,” Kayden grunts and settles back down on your lap. “Spoilsport.”

“See why you should make the long trip now?” You tease, ruffling his soft furs.

He snaps back at you with his sharp teeth, but visibly deflate when he knows there is a limit to his actions. “I will deal with you when my strength is back.”

“Promises, promises.”

There is something you can still help Kayden with for his recovery after all.

[p8rasite]

FINE.  ›  SUNG HANBIN ݃ 0612

synopsis.. where hanbin says it too often, he starts to believe he is.. until he isn’t.

muses.. roommate! hanbin x gn! reader

pantone.. angst & comfort ft. and they were roommates

cw + tap the mic.. self-doubt, reader kinda dislikes hanbin & mention of drinks + first zb1 writing let’s gaur! this was a mix of request & word vomit so i hope this is good enough 🥺 also new layout : @/stealanity & @/chiyuv

“no one’s here, come again in four to seven business weeks.”

you bite the inside of your cheek. as clear as it is that hanbin doesn’t want to entertain anyone at the moment, you refuse to let him be. not when he’s isolating himself within those four walls. not when you can just tug that handle and let yourself in.

so you do.

the abrupt bang of the door against the wall was slightly.. over the top, but at least it got his attention. well, more like his frown, but you can be bothered about the details some other time.

“what are you doing in here?” he mumbles, voice lacking its usual coat of vibrancy. this time, it’s soft and fragile, just like its owner.

you shrug your shoulders. “the kitchen told me you haven’t visited it in a few days so i’m checking in on you on their behalf.”

he chuckles, but even that sounds so hollow. another sign that he isn’t your roommate, but a shell of him. and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re even more a tad bit worried.

“may i?” you gesture to the space next to him, shortly receiving a nod. sitting on the floor—legs stretched out and back slouched against the wall—isn’t ideal, especially not when there’s a queen sized bed just a few steps away. although, given why you’re here in the first place, you suppose you could refrain from complaining this time.

(singular—you’re already stressing that before your friends can make assumptions.)

the two of you let silence wrap around you like a blanket, one neither of you seem eager to remove. you excuse your awkwardness by claiming you want to take in your new surroundings before moving further. to which, in fairness, makes sense because this is your first time in his room.

weird, isn’t it? living in a place where you’re familiar with everything but your roommate and his space. there were times where he left his door ajar enough for you to catch glimpses inside, but nothing could have prepared you to see it in its entirety.

so tidy, so cozy, so.. hanbin.

the young man in question fidgets with his sweater’s sleeve, a loose thread in particular. a translucent pane of absentmindedness hovers over his cocoa-tinted irises as he twists the material between his lithe fingers.

“i don’t know what’s missing,” hanbin gauges your reaction (seemingly blank, actually surprised) before continuing. “i gave everything i had to them, constantly tried to do and be my best self to make up for the things i lack, yet they still left.”

you nervously rub your palms upon your thighs, unsure where to pick up after such a heavy confession. there’s also that guilt that chews on your soul as you come to realize that this little mister perfect persona of his isn’t just for attracting people.

it’s supposed to convince those he loves to stay.

with this newfound understanding, you finally speak up, “them leaving isn’t on you.”

his brows furrow, lips slightly parting to reject your words but you lift your hand to cover his mouth. probably not the best idea, ‘specially not when he can just make muffled sounds through the makeshift gag, but it’ll have to do. all you need is for him to listen to you, no interruptions allowed.

“you gave almost all of yourself to them, which isn’t wrong—almost every person who’s been in love has done that. but that isn’t enough to make the relationship work because there’s two of you. now, either it’s a responsibility that they can’t or don’t want to face, which is why they broke up with you.

whichever it is, the fault still lies with them. and that, binnie, is why you shouldn’t be beating yourself up on this. yes, it’s okay to grieve what has been lost. but at the end of the day, you should acknowledge and accept that it isn’t your fault.”

you’re completely winded by the end of your speech, you don’t realize your hand had pulled away halfway through it. but then you notice the upward curve of his lips, and your eyes instinctively narrow at the suspicious sight.

“did i say something funny?”

he shakes his head and points out, “you called me binnie.”

..damn. you were so caught up in your rant that you hadn’t noticed your mistake. with a light hit at his shoulder, you grumble, “don’t read too deep into it, i just heard one of your friends constantly call you that so it slipped.”

“are you sure~?”

“yes.”

“very sure~?”

“..‘right, that’s the end of our therapy session. i expect you to pay me with a cup of karak tea later.” a groan emerges from the deepest part of your tired soul as you get back on your feet, backside sore from maintaining the same position for at least 10 minutes.

right as you’re on your way out, hanbin calls your name. intrigued confused as to what else he’d need, you take the chance and turn around. those busy fingers you noticed earlier? now they’re put together to make a unique heart gesture.

“thank you for keeping me company and opening my eyes to the bigger picture.” the warmth and cheeriness hasn’t been fully restored yet, but you can hear a sliver. and regardless of whether you admit it or not, you feel proud of yourself for assisting in bringing it back.

“no need to thank me, matters like this are why roommates were made.”

(uh huh, sure..)

❀ ... ⃕ not sure if i’ll make a taglist but feel free to donate to my kofi ! now, would you like to return to the masterlist? yes / no.

[skrrts]

sunday morning (one-shot)

✧ reader x yeosang (non-idol) ✧ genre: slice of life, fluff, dating ✧ word count: 1,2k ✧ mentions: nervous about a job interview, eating, food

You really do not like Sundays just because Monday is so close. It's good that Yeosang is just fine with your idea of staying in bed all day.

As the sun started to find its way into your room, you were hidden under the comforting shelter of your blankets and held in a soft embrace, Yeosang’s fingers gently brushing over your arms as you sighed a little. Your eyes were pressed together as if to chase away the looming arrival of Monday. It was a little silly, you knew that, with an entire day still ahead of you to spend as you wish with the sweetest boyfriend you could think of by your side.

“Good morning,” Yeosang’s voice was close to your ear, his long hair tickling your skin as you pouted. “Mh, I don’t want to get up yet, let’s just stay in here.” You could hear his amused chuckle as he leaned in to look at you properly, as much as the blanket over your bodies allowed for it.

“Well, it’s good that there is no specific limitation on how long one can stay in bed on a Sunday morning,” Yeosang replied and started to place a few kisses along your arm. “We can stay here all day if you wish, though I wonder how long it will take for your stomach to make little noises again. They are cute tho, I’d not have any complaints about that.” Ah, why was he such a tease sometimes?

You slowly started to move and turn around so that you were able to look at him. Eyes still sleepy, but the image in front of you was still as stunning as back then when you saw Yeosang for the first time. The day when he asked you out still felt a little surreal at times. You always had a small crush on him ever since the two of you met but you lacked the bravery to consider exploring the idea, too worried about how you'd lose a friend if it went wrong, well. It turned out to be quite foolish, and you were glad that Yeosang was bold where you were shy.

“I hate Mondays,” you snuggled against his chest, allowing Yeosang to curl his arms around you again. “I know,” he placed a kiss on your hair. “I know you are a little nervous about your job interview tomorrow, but it will go just fine. I can pick you up after, and we can go shopping, just for a walk, or visit our favorite café, whatever you’d like to do. I arranged to have tomorrow off, so I’ll be there.”

You were surprised by this news and looked up at him. “You did? I know you offered it but…” You told him it would be fine, although knowing it would give you more confidence if he'd be there but you were too embarrassed to say just that. Yeosang really knew you too well, but you were thankful. “That sounds nice. It’s only scheduled to take an hour, and I will be free after. I did prepare well, I know that, but I’m always overthinking before something like that.”

Yeosang wasn’t judging; he never did. If anything, he was quite understanding. “Well, then we’ll go and do that. I’ll bring you there and pick you up once you are done. We can enjoy the nice summer day tomorrow; it won’t be too hot.”

You wiggled yourself free so that you faced each other, brown eyes looking at you with curiosity, one of your hands resting against his cheek. “You are the most amazing boyfriend; it’s almost a little annoying, you know? How can you be so great at it after claiming this is your first time dating?” You faked sounding a little judgmental, and it led him to laugh. “Oh? Is that so? Well, you are the one who said that.”

His embrace around you tightened, and you found your bodies closely together. But as always, you two were more soft and silly, allowing for your noses to bump gently against one another, brushing over them before lips met in a gentle kiss. You could feel how Yeosang relaxed, and the two of you closed your eyes to enjoy the moment.

This was how you enjoyed spending time the most. As much as both of you also liked to showcase your love to others and go on dates with your friends, what really mattered was the time together, just the two of you. In a way, it seemed you both just liked being homebodies; cooking together, watching a movie, or spending Sunday mornings cuddling was simply the way to go, making your hearts' content.

“I love you,” Yeosang whispered, and you smiled. “I love you too,” you repeated before chuckling. “Sorry that I’m such a headache sometimes.” Yeosang winked. “Admitting to it is the first step to improvement.” You stuck out your tongue and allowed him to carefully pull the blanket down as it started to get a little warm underneath.

“Well, since you are insisting on staying in here today, how about I go and make us some breakfast we can enjoy here in bed? I’d rather not have to worry about my favorite person starving because of not wanting to leave.” Yeosang was caring; he’d always find ways to make you feel better and supported silly wishes way too much.

“That also means I’d have to let you go; I am not too sure,” you joked but eventually nodded, pulling away. “I will wait here and miss you a lot.” Yeosang ruffled your hair, leading you to make a soft, complaining noise. “I will be back before you know it.”

With that, he walked out of the bedroom, and you used the time to stretch, checked the time on your phone, but decided to ignore the red notification number of messages for a little longer.

Soon, the apartment was filled with the smell of coffee and what seemed to be pancakes. Yeosang really put in much effort, making your life seem like a movie sometimes. You sat up, trying to make yourself more presentable, but your hair was just a mess after sleep, and the shirt you stole from him was too large.

As Yeosang returned, he carried a tray with two cups of coffee, a plate with pancakes, and a small bowl of fruits decorated with a flower. “Please, you really start to make me feel like I’m in a visual novel and I just got the best boyfriend.” You loved the way his deep voice sounded whenever he laughed.

“Is that so? Well, it means I was quite lucky to win Reader over, as there are always so many good love interests to choose from in those stories.” He settled the tray on the bed, moving to sit on the edge of it. You looked at him fondly. “He did, Reader is all smitten and crazy in love; the others stood no chance.”

Yeosang smiled gently. “Well, he couldn’t be happier, and he’s quite content to make sure that it never changes. Although his chosen one can be a little bit of work sometimes, especially on Sundays.” He picked up a slice of pancake, offering it to you on a fork. “Say ah.”

“Hey!” you pouted again but chuckled, leading him to smile as you leaned in to accept the offered bite.

[subastian-swallows]

Ominis Gaunt x You

Herbology Class (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)

I write fluff, too (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)

A/N: Just fluff, that I had to write, while ignoring my work duties.

Have you ever tried concentrating on the correct procedure, on how to appropriately repot a young mandrake—while the person you have a crush on is sat squished up against you? No? Didn't think so.

Ominis had done many things in his lifetime, some not safe to repeat and yet, the fact that he was stuck at a potting table pressed up against you—had now made him a bumbling mess. He was usually pretty calm and collected, even around you, making sure to keep his feelings hidden and shoved deep down within himself and yet—suddenly it seemed, that no longer was the case.

You had been paired with him, simply due to the assignment and because Sebastian was out sick—a Garreth 'potion' gone wrong. Which meant it was just you and him, alone, squished together as the rest of the class got stuck into their work. You didn't press him, although you wanted to, realising quite quickly that he was clearly nervous—or uncomfortable. But instead, you just tried to focus on the work and not the fact that your arm was against his, which not only sent electrical currents along your skin—but now made you realise that Ominis ran a lot warmer than you thought.

Eventually when you decided to say something, anything, just wishing to remove the awkward silence—which had now caused the room to feel almost claustrophobic, Ominis just simply wished to ignore it and continued to hand you the wrong tools. He was beside himself now, realising quickly that his shyness, had come off as rudeness and when you awkwardly made yet another comment about how he had given you the wrong tool—yet again, he wished the ground would have swallowed him whole.

It got so bad at one point that, Ominis spilled the soil bag all over the table and his lap—when you both reached for it at the same time. He wasn’t usually this clumsy, but you see, your fingers brushed against his as he tried to be helpful—which only made him unhelpful and it was almost like he had touched something much too hot or much too cold. You took this the wrong way obviously, Ominis never once just admitting that he was in love with you and so you took it as a sign that he perhaps, just didn’t like your company.

When class ended and Ominis had cleaned up his mess, his hands now dirtied from the soil, you could do little else but—wish to be anywhere but here. Ominis however, whether it was a sudden burst of courage or the fact that your whispering, of how you confused you were—wasn’t as under your breath as you thought and so he suddenly grabbed your hand. You barely noticed the dirt now, only feeling the heat of his touch against your skin and when he swallowed hard and gripped you tighter—it was like your body went numb and your mind, blank.

“I-I’m sorry.”

Was all Ominis could say, or perhaps confess so openly and you just looked at him—even more confused, than before. You had no idea what he was apologising for, unless perhaps, it was for cringing at your touch—which only made you frown. Ominis on the other hand, had a million things running through his head, from apologising for being standoffish or simply apologising for being a coward—but either way, he was sorry. When you attempted to ask him why, simply wishing to know the reason for his apology, Ominis just apologised again—more softly, before reaching his hand to your face.

You don’t even register the marks he was leaving on your face, the dirt slipping between his fingers and onto your blouse—because all you were focused on, was his face and how it moved towards you now. Then, he kissed you. It was a soft and awkward kiss, yet done with such haste, that it was as if he was afraid you’d stop him or push away. And yet, when you didn’t, although surprised, you quickly realised—that you had not only deepened it, but had leaned forward to grip his shirt. The kiss lasted long, but it was not a kiss that showed anything more than longing—a show of how much he had wanted this, needed this and you just happily obliged, enjoying the fact that it was real.

You had thought about this many times, curious about how he would move, how his lips would feel, how he would taste—and now, you didn’t need to anymore, because it finally happened. Eventually the kiss had to end, breathing becoming a little difficult in this position and when you did, even Ominis whined about the loss of your touch. After a short moment of reliving what just happened, perhaps still surprised at the sudden boldness of him, it was Ominis that returned his touch to your face—but this time, his fingers dusted where the dirt had stuck to your skin.

“I made you dirty, I must apologise.”

“Will you quit apologising, Ominis? It’s dirt.”

Ominis laughed, knowing well that your reply was not just for the dirt and so he hummed and leaned forward kiss you again. He kissed you far too many times to count after that, only parting from you when new students had arrived to start their lesson—hopeful that no one had spotted your little moment. But, it seemed that despite the quickness of his moments and pulling away from you, as if putting space between you both—would hide the fact you kissed, it had not been effective. For you see, kissing after accidentally putting dirt on the others face, tends to leave its mark and when a student questions the dirt on your faces—Ominis can only blush and place his head against the table.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Thoughts on Taskmaster s18e06, written as I watch it:

- Weirdest banter section yet this season, well done to both Greg and Alex on that one. I’m with Greg, I would also love to have an actual fight with Alex Horne. Also, is there going to be an explanation for why Alex is wearing the pocket coat from the locket task?

- I have now played the video long enough to hear the prize task category. I’m glad they didn’t make us wait long for that explanation.

- Still in awe of the Zaltzman commitment to prize tasks. Not all the prizes have been great, but none have been low effort. This is the second week in a row in which he’s basically brought in a Bugle monologue as his prize; I could see a Bugle opening with a list of ingredients on the elixir of life that include batshittium and dolphins, and a list of warnings about not giving it to pets.

- Baba’s prize – pretty good, amusingly goes with the Little Alex Horne character, but he definitely just told the production staff to make a keychain with a few words on it and no one even bothered to make them look nice. While Andy, I bet at least dictated to the team exactly what the label on the bottle should say, down to the fine print warnings.

- Jack’s prize – better than his previous ones, mostly, though I think he sold it wrong. It’s ��most fun thing”. Whoopie cushions are fun with their intended use, you don’t need to pretend they’re some other exercise-based thing. Just say surprising people with that noise is a fun prank.

- What the hell, Emma? Did she bring in two tickets to the cover band that played her wedding? The Bon Jovi cover band? What a weird thing. What fun. And a QR code makes it even more fun, a mystery code in your pocket. And then you get a cover band. Good prize.

- Rosie’s prize – I always like prizes that are really specific to the prize task category. In this case, she was the only one to go with not just a fun thing, but a thing that gets more fun if you put it in a pocket. Good job.

- What fucking part of the theme park is this? No wonder they set so many horror movies in theme parks.

- First thought on hearing the task instructions: it doesn’t say anything about them needing to stay on the bridge. Surely there’s a way to get down there, taking the frying pan with you, in well under fifteen minutes, so you’d have time to look through the fish before putting one in the pan. I mean, if this was filmed after the locket task, they should definitely also know to look around the bridge for dotty fish.

- Update: Yep, just saw Emma find the one on the back of the pan. I enjoyed the excitement on her face upon finding it, the hesitant pride on putting it in the pan, and then the regret of realizing there might be an even better one that she missed. What a journey. I feel like Emma takes us on a lot of journeys in this show.

- Baba is primarily on this show to big up himself, I think. He doesn’t appear to care about winning. He doesn’t appear to have a specific strategy for profile boosting. But he is big upping himself a lot.

- Ohhh, you can make a dotty fish. And I thought I was being clever with the “go pick them up, on the bridge or the track, instead of just fishing” plan. Good one. I was so sure that Andy’s pen would be a red herring, so quite pleased for him when it turned out to be useful.

- And my idea of looking on the bridge was the actual red herring. Fair enough, Alex.

- Love that, to follow up on his prize task that was a lie, Andy has now jumped into the first task with a further lie:

When I'm transcribing Andy Zaltzman quotes for Tumblr posts, I often find myself including the "um" and "uh" in the transcript, and then wondering if I should because normally you'd leave stuff like that out, but with Andy's style of speech, they seem like such an integral part of what he's saying. Glad the Taskmaster subtitler has agreed with my choice to leave them in.

I know, Greg. The Zaltzman lies are sneaky. Although some comedians who've worked with him long enough have the opposite problem, start responding to his statements as though they're all lies and Andy has to clarify "Oh that one was true, actually."

- 657 dots? Holy fuck, Andy. He is here to win.

- You've heard of Jamali Maddix not knowing who Greg Davies is. Now get ready for... Babatunde Aleshe not knowing who Alex Horne is, while filming the tasks with Alex Horne.

- You've heard of, "perform a scene from Taskmaster the Musical" (season 6). You've heard of the nursery rhymes (season 2). Now get ready for, puppets.

- Heh. Jack implied "cunt".

- You know, I was going to say I think Jack Dee should be marked down because I never like it when a task attempt is significantly improved by the editing, as this one was, with their farm background. But then they zoomed out and took out the added background, and we can see that Jack did actually make a set and the puppet, so well done. Also that was quite a good sketch for that short a time.

- I like Greg this season, I feel like he gets to be a bit more fun lately. Seems slightly less tied to the autocue. Like there have been a few seasons where it seems like they were marketing his "The Taskmaster" character so hard that they'd just stick really Taskmaster-y lines on the autocue but that had become the extent of him being funny. I assume jumping on Alex after getting him to lean in close wasn't on the autocue. That was funny. Greg should do more stuff.

- Look. I know this is funny.

Anyone with any kind of sense of humour would laugh out loud upon seeing the above screenshot. But what I cannot quite explain is why, upon the first reveal of that image, I absolutely lost my breath from laughing, probably harder than Taskmaster has made me laugh since Sam Campbell in season 16. Holy fuck. Andy.

It was the subversion of expectations. When they said "Pidgeor" I assumed it would be something fucking weird, because it's Andy and inventing weird shit is his thing, so I was trying to picture in my head what little creature he'd create. I was picturing a combination of the Pokemon Pidgey, and Pliny from Lee & Herring. And then they reveal this. Those gloves don't fit right. Where the fuck did he find that mask? Has there always been a cape there? Fucking hell. Andy. You've outdone yourself.

- I can't get over this guy.

On the subject of giving credit to editing vs. the comedian, I found myself briefly wondering how Andy made his voice all echo-y like that, before I remembered about the existence of post-production. My brain's initial reaction to the voice is to assume Andy can just do that.

- This is the funniest shit I've ever seen.

Why did Lee & Herring get the big TV show for their bird puppet? It should have gone to Andy Zaltzman.

- Jesus, Emma's puppet is creepy. I did not know someone could make their own hand look so creepy. I think the fact that it's very clearly a rubber cleaning glove somehow makes it worse, but I don't know why.

- Well, Emma's had several tasks where she's tried to get off with Greg, and one where she tried it with Andy and Baba. Nice that she's gone for one with Alex too.

- By comparison to the others, Baba sticking a sock on his hand and telling kids to deal drugs seems pretty tame. It's also funny to me that he's the first to put an actual sock on his hand.

- The first but not the only, I see. I want to know how fast Rosie had the idea to put actual sticky brown stuff on her hand, in addition to the fabric-based poo, because I don't think most people would come up with that, and that really sells it. Well done.

- Well, it's been a while since we've had straight-up gross-out humour on Taskmaster. Alex getting that stuff all over his face has to count. Always expanding the humour sources on here.

- Fucking hell, that was a great task. That has to go down as an all-time Taskmaster classic. A rare one where every single creative effort was strong. That was so much fun.

- Another Taskmaster escape room. I have never done an escape room and never had the desire to do one, but I do enjoy watching comedians do them.

- I think this is the first time I've noticed a disability accommodation for Rosie in the filmed tasks. Though I might just be unobservant, as it took me until halfway through the season to notice that they gave the contestants chairs with arms for the first time, presumably to help Rosie balance in the studio. Either way, any disability adaptation has been quite unobtrusive, so that's cool.

- Ah, I now see why they had to specifically show us this particular disability accommodation, that Alex was cutting wires for Rosie. Because he fucked it up at the end. That's an interesting situation. Not fair to penalize Rosie for that.

- Yeah, Greg's right. You can't mark her down. I've not stopped to write stuff much during that task because there isn't all that much to say about the escape room stuff, even though I enjoy watching it. But I will say: absolutely not fair to penalize Rosie because Alex was being annoying. She could probably have cut the wire herself in 8 seconds.

I do have to admit, Jack was quite funny in this task. Solving it fast but being bloody annoyed about it.

- Damn, Zaltzman is killing it in this episode. Won that one too.

- So it's that season 13 live task but with a job instead of a name. Cool, I don't mind at all when Alex finds a workaround to essentially repeat tasks that are good enough to deserve repetition (which that season 13 one definitely was). This will be fun. It's been a while since they've brought in NPCs for the contestants to play off, I feel like they used to do that more often. I miss Fred the Swede.

- Oh shit, it was Quentin! I didn't realize it was the same guy until they said his name at the end! Oh that is fun! I can't tell whether Andy was intentionally calling back to another previous task, with his anesthetist guess (probably not). That's great, they've established another running NPC. Quite funny that it's the second time on Taskmaster they've been desperately trying to guess what type of doctor someone is. Also funny that it took over 75 questions in season 13 to find his name, while in this one, they almost immediately, mostly accidentally, stumbled upon his field of work.

- That is the second episode in a row that'll go down as one of my all-time favourites. Fucking amazing. God this season is good.

[sooniessoulmate]

𝙳𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚈𝚘𝚞 - 𝚌𝚑.𝟺 - 𝙷𝚊𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜

𝚌𝚑.𝟹 | 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝚌𝚑.𝟻

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟺 : 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚐𝚒𝚏𝚝

Donghyuck races to the rooftop where he is certain you will be. When he breaks through the doors, he freezes at what he sees.

He runs over, pulling your arm, disrupting your current make-out session with a man that Donghyuck doesn’t recognize.

“What the hell are you doing?” he yells.

You stand there, shocked by his presence, rubbing your head before speaking.

“What the fuck,” you finally end up muttering in response.

Donghyuck looks at the other man and orders, “leave…I need to talk to her.”

The man ignores his demands and continues to watch on.

“Why the hell don’t you answer your phone?” Donghyuck snaps before looking back at the other man. “I said LEAVE! Get the fuck out of here.”

The man looks at you, shaking his head, sighing heavily before exiting the rooftop, leaving you alone with Donghyuck.

“Do you have any idea how many people were worried about you?” Donghyuck stresses.

“Worried about me?” you repeat, briefly rubbing your head. “It’s none of your damn business. Aren’t you just happy to see me like this? Isn’t this what you fucking wanted?”

Donghyuck looks around, angry at himself for being in this situation. “For your information, I never wanted you to get heartbroken. I only wanted you to move on from Jisung so you would be able to find someone that could make you happy and love you back.”

You stare at him for a few moments, surprised by the words that are coming out of his mouth. Although, you aren't sure how to process them, they honestly make you even more confused.

“I don’t know why I want that for you, I really don’t,” Donghyuck confesses. 

“You’re just such an amazing guy,” you snap, with more sarcasm in your voice than you intend. “You want me to be happy? I’d be a fucking idiot to believe bullshit like that. You just don’t want something to happen to me because you don’t want Jisung to feel guilty. YOU NEVER ACTUALLY WORRIED ABOUT ME! You’re just…”

Donghyuck watches as you are having your breakdown. Without thinking he grabs your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. He leans in, pressing his lips against yours.

He quickly pulls away, “Why?” he yells. “I have gone further with you than I have with Yeji.” He grabs your head, pulling you in and firmly pressing his lips against yours again.

You instinctively kiss him back for a few seconds before pushing him away.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you yell, wiping your mouth with your arm. “I HATE YOU!”

You say those words with such passion and rage that there is no denying how serious you are. You turn and storm off of the roof leaving Donghyuck behind, regretting his life choices alone.

The next few days you run through the movements robotically. It feels as though you were seeing Karina and Jisung everywhere and it drives you nuts. You still don’t want them to be together but you know that you have no chance anymore. You have to accept the situation as it is, no matter how hard it is going to be.

You see Karina alone in the library. She is never alone anymore, she always has jisung by her side. You think that this will be your only chance. You walk over to her, seething with jealousy and rage.

Karina turns around pausing when she sees you standing behind her. “Jisung isn’t here,” she sighs.

“Here,” you say, handing a bag to her. “This is his birthday gift. Can you give it to him?”

“Why are you giving it to me?” she asks.

“Because you two are official now. I’m done meddling between the two of you,” you explain. You don’t want to admit your defeat but you knew it was the right thing to do.

Karina smiles, widely, “Really, Y/N?”

“Yea,” you nod, looking down at the ground not wanting to make eye contact out of pure shame.

“You really moved on this quickly?” she questions.

“Not yet but I’m going to try,” you sigh, turning to walk away. You can’t continue the pleasantries any longer and you don’t want to slip up and say something nasty.

As you are walking away you notice Jisung walking towards his girlfriend out of the corner of your eye, but you force yourself to not look.

“What’s that?” Jisung asks, pointing to the bag that you gave Karina.

“It's the last gift from your number one fan,” she smiles, handing him the plastic bag, unaware of the contents inside.

Jisung removes the Iron Man figurine from the plastic bag, staring at it for a few moments before smiling at Karina and walking to go back to where his friends are sitting. He places the figurine on the table before sitting back down.

“What’s with Iron Man?” Jaemin asks.

“It’s my birthday gift,” Jisung announces, forcing Donghyuck to look up from the book he is currently reading. He peeks up then looks back at his book but instantly focuses back on the box in front of his friend. A look of disgust on his face.

Mark turns around, “I have the sudden urge to boo you,” he announces.

“Ready?” Chenle eggs on.

“Hit it,” Jaemin continues, pretending to shift a car into gear with one hand and pretending the other is on the steering wheel.

“Boooooooo,” Mark laughs at his friends.

“What’s wrong with you?” Chenle asks, looking at Jisung.

“Stop fooling around,” Jeno interrupts, trying to be the mature one.

“I’m sorry,” Mark sighs while bowing his head, politely.

“Jisung, did your hot doctor give you that?” Chenle asks, bluntly.

“No, it’s not from Karina,” Jisung states.

“Then from who?” Mark wonders.

“You just got your big present from your sexy doctor yesterday,” Jeno interjects with a huge smile on his face.

“But, is she enough for you, Jisung?” Chenle teases.

Donghyuck slams his book on the table before storming out of the library.

“Hyuck,” everyone says before he is out of sight.

“What the hell's wrong with him?” Mark snaps.

Jisung watches his best friend leave without saying a word but this isn’t a normal reaction for the Donghyuck he knows and loves.

At the pool, you are stretching on the side before getting into the water. You have your normal routine before you start swimming and stretching was the last step.

You feel a large hand grab your arm, forcefully spinning you around.

“You lied to me,” Donghyuck hisses.

“What the hell are you talking about?” you ask, confused.

He looks around before speaking to make sure you two are alone. Deciding that the surroundings aren’t safe, he pulls you into the locker room to guarantee more privacy.

Although once inside, Donghyuck still doesn’t let go of your arm, which he is squeezing quite tightly.

“You’re hurting me,” you announce looking down at your arm.

“You said you would stop bothering my friend,” Donghyuck says, squeezing your arm even harder. “So why the hell did you give him that iron man? Huh?”

“You’re really hurting me,” you whine, finally getting his attention of what he was doing and it forces him to release his grip.

“I didn’t give it to him. I gave it to Karina to pass along to her boyfriend,” you explain while rubbing the arm that he was squeezing. “Plus I told her that I would stop meddling.”

“I just…” Donghyuck stops, searching for the correct words to use. “Worried…that you’d get hurt again.”

You stare into Donghyuck’s eyes for a few seconds before looking down at the arm that he squeezed. “Is this what people do when they’re worried?” you ask. “You yelled at me the minute you got here AND you didn’t even say you’re sorry for hurting me.”

You turn to walk out of the locker room, wanting to make a dramatic exit.

“SORRY,” Donghyuck yells, forcing you to stop walking and back up towards the boy.

“What did you say?” you ask. You knew what he said but you just wanted to hear him say it again.

“You heard me,” he sighs, not wanting to repeat it.

“I don’t think I did,” you insist.

Donghyuck thinks for a second, staring into your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

You look at him with a little smirk on your face, “I’m still not hearing you.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, in a meak tone.

“What was that?” you ask again, teasingly.

Donghyuck grabs the back of your head and pulls you close to him so he could whisper in your ear, “I am sorry.” He releases you and you pull away annoyed that he touched you again. “Are you happy?” 

You refuse to answer with words, you only smile which makes Donghyuck relieved, knowing what you are implying without using your words.

“Now that you have your answer,” you state. “I need to know something.”

“What?” he asks.

“About last night…”

Donghyuck is concerned about what you were going to ask, only because he isn’t sure if he is ready to be honest. Honest with himself more than anything. But before you have time to ask your question, Karina walks inside the locker room, eyeing the both of you up.

“Nevermind,” you sigh, exiting the locker room while you have the chance.

Donghyuck watches as you storm off, resisting the urge to chase after you.

𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚟 | 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝

𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗

[vincess-princess]

in darkness shall you be reborn

Chapter 14.

Word count: 3090 Warnings: some manhandling on Nikki's part A/N: this is just as unexpected to me as it is to you. i just had nothing to do in class lol

“Damn it,” Tommy laughed hoarsely, his chest trembling. “I swear I could have got you this time.”

“You couldn’t, but it was a praiseworthy try.” Nikki sheathed his rapier, stretched out his hand and helped Tommy up. Vince caught a grimace of pain flashing across the first mate’s face. The masterful, almost effortless disarming must have been less pleasant to experience than watch. Although Tommy should be thankful to get out of this death match practically unscathed.

“See?” Mick said. “All ended well. There was no need to annoy me about it. And don’t look at me all pissed. You needed to hear that, and better from me than from Nikki.”

Vince wanted to tell him a lot of things, the majority of which would definitely lose him whatever amiability Mick still harbored towards him. A few more seconds, and it would surely spill. And if there was anything Vince had learned on the “Shout”, it was that letting out emotions only made matters worse. Every time, without fail.

So he said nothing - only glared at Mick and stormed off to the galley. His fists itched to punch something; Mick himself was off limits, but his pillow seemed like a good alternative. Vince had a lot of other, more creative ideas, but even his mind clouded with anger understood the harm that would be done wouldn’t be worth the harm Vince would get inflicted upon himself in return.

He was halfway there when a hand landed on his shoulder. Vince couldn’t help but flinch. Did Nikki notice his presence, after all?

”Hey, blondie, hold your horses!” No, that wasn’t Nikki. Vince turned around and met eyes with Slash. He was the closest to them when Vince was so carelessly criticizing Nikki’s skill. Mick’s warning immediately came to mind; his stomach sank. Did Slash hear their conversation? What was he going to do about it?

“What?” Vince asked sharply. Too sharply, apparently, because Slash was clearly taken aback.

“Wow, why are you so pissed? I ain’t done you no wrong.”

Yet, Vince wanted to add, but held it back. He still didn’t know what Slash wanted.

“Don’t call me that,” he said in a softer tone.

“Well, I still don’t know your name,” Slash shrugged. “Gotta get by somehow.”

“It’s Vince. Now you no longer have that excuse.”

“Really?” Slash raised his eyebrow. “I expected something posher.”

“It’s a very simple version of my actual name,” Vince said dryly. “That’s all you’re getting. I’m not giving you any more reasons to mock me.”

“Man, you really taking that to heart?” Slash seemed genuinely surprised. How could someone not take that to heart? “C’mon, we were just messing around. We do that a lot - it gets boring here.” He patted Vince on the shoulder condescendingly. “Vince it be then. You know, I’ve overheard you and Mick chatting-“

“I was just joking around,” Vince interrupted him, his heart beginning to race. “Didn’t mean anything by that.”

“Really?” Slash’s face dropped. “Damn, and I was thinking you were onto something there. I practice the way the captain tells me to but I ain’t getting nowhere. And he always says I ain’t trying hard enough. But if you just made it all up…”

Vince couldn’t believe his ears. Was Slash actually… taking him seriously? After all Nikki did to crush any semblance of respect the crew could still have towards him?

“You know, every joke has a grain of truth in it,” he said hastily. “It won’t hurt to try, anyway.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Slash nodded. “You got any specific suggestions? Some moves I could try, maybe?”

“Uh,” Vince recalled his training sessions. Back then he was irritated that a significant part of them was dedicated to solitary practice and exercise, bemoaning that it took time away from actual sparring, but the pirates had just demonstrated how the lack of the former inherently undermined the latter. He scrambled to bring to his memory the exercises his teacher made him do. A few seemed helpful for Slash’s problem. “I think so. You’ve got good reaction and speed to match, but your precision and distance perception lack. You should practice on your own first so you can pay very close attention to muscle movements-“

“Really? How’s that gonna be helpful?” Slash wrinkled his nose skeptically. “What’s the point of just waving the sword around? I ain’t gonna fight a spirit.”

“It ain’t, I mean isn’t, just waving it around,” Vince began explaining patiently. “You’ve got to build your muscle memory before sparring. What’s the point of it if you don’t know what to do? You should become familiar with your body first, how fast it can move, how strongly it can strike, how long it can hold on in a fight. When you don’t know your own limitations, you turn them into weaknesses, which the enemy can – and will – exploit. You don’t need to get rid of them completely – I doubt it’s even possible – but you can plan your strategy around them.”

“The guys are gonna think I drank too much rum fighting air.”

“Are you so afraid of looking stupid you’d rather get gutted in a real fight?” Vince bristled. “I’m not forcing you to do it. It’s you who came to me for advice. If you don’t like it, you can fuck right off.”

To his surprise, Slash grinned wide, baring an unexpectedly complete collection of white teeth.

“Huh, you’re adapting quick. Fine, fine, I guess I gotta try it out. What do I do?”

“There are a couple moves you can start with. Basic ones. I’ll show you.” Vince walked to the stack of wooden swords in a sack, pulled one out and gave it a test swing. The handle, polished by countless hands to the point of shining, spun readily in his palm. The prop was just a little bit lighter than a real weapon, and the familiar heaviness of a blade in his hand pricked his heart with wistfulness. He shook it off.

“Alright, here’s what you can do…” Vince replicated the first exercise to the best of his ability, surprised to find that the familiar muscle strain it provoked was quite enjoyable. It did disturb his healing shoulder, but the pain wasn’t serious enough to put his arm out of action. Slash watched attentively, then picked up another sword and tried to copy him.

“Not bad.” Vince adjusted his elbows. “Now do the swing. Yes, it’s hard to control both your arms and footwork at the same time. That’s the point. When it stops being hard and starts feeling like second nature, you can try the next one. Look here.”

He assumed the position again and swung his arm back. Suddenly Slash’s gaze shifted on something behind him, his eyes widening, and the next second pain exploded in Vince’s wrist as it was twisted viciously, the wooden sword hitting the deck with a bang. Vince couldn’t hold back a cry of pain when his arm was locked into a painful hammerlock, forcing him to bend forward.

“Slash, you are on nightguard for the next week.” Nikki’s voice was simmering with barely contained rage. “And if I ever see you, or anyone else, let the slave touch the weapons – real, wooden, doesn’t matter – they won’t get away with it as easily. Is that clear?”

“But captain, you never said-“ Slash began.

“Do I have to tell you not to piss in the water barrels too? Because that’s just as obvious. As the first warning, you’re only getting a week. Keep bitching, and that’ll turn into a month. Was that clear?”

Slash’s eyes sparked with indignation from underneath his hair, lips parted as if he was on a verge of snapping back, and Vince waited with bated breath for him to do it, to point out how unfair Nikki was. As if reading his mind, Nikki pressed harder on Vince’s wrist, making him drop his head and gasp in pain, and that tipped the scales.

“Yes, captain,” Slash said through gritted teeth. “It won’t happen again.”

“Very well.” Nikki slightly eased the pressure but didn’t let Vince go. Looked like only crewmates were getting off this easy, Vince realized with dismay as Nikki pushed him in the direction of his cabin. If he wanted to just beat him, he would do it right there and then.

“Don’t be too hard on him, captain,” Slash said suddenly. “I asked him for it.”

“And he knew there would be consequences to doing it. I’ll handle him as I see fit, Slash. You get down to work.” Nikki sped up, dragging Vince with him. Vince caught a glimpse of Slash behind them, his expression helpless.

When they reached the cabin, Nikki threw open the door and pushed Vince inside with such force he landed on his knees and skidded forward on them at least half a foot, shredding the fabric on his knees and scraping off the top layer of skin. Amid the sharp pain came a bang of a door slammed shut, and then a hand grabbed his hair and pulled it up violently, and a new pain drowned out the other, fogged up his vision. He grasped at the hand in his hair, fruitlessly trying to unclench the fingers, but no scratching and pulling could weaken Nikki’s iron grip.

His cheek felt the coolness of the wood of the cabin wall, but not for long – Nikki gripped his shoulder and turned him around, his face now mere inches away, and it was so disfigured with the pure, uncontained rage Vince shuddered.

“Who do you think you are?” he hissed, fingers digging into Vince’s shoulder, making him wince in pain – because, of course, Nikki chose the wounded one. “Who the hell do you think you are, you little piece of shit?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” Vince tried to protest, but was promptly silences with a slap on the face so powerful his vision went white for a second, his hair falling onto his face. After a second’s lag the skin there began to burn. He didn’t get any more time to recover, as Nikki once again pulled his hair to bring Vince’s face close to his. If the captain went on with that, a thought flashed past, Vince would soon have no hair left. “You never said I couldn’t touch the weapons!”

“I was pretty explicit you weren’t welcome at the training, weren’t I?” Nikki’s pupils were so dilated they covered almost his whole irises, giving his eyes a sinister look. “You came anyway. Don’t act so surprised now.”

The pain in Vince’s shoulder grew stronger; he could feel hot blood starting to pool under the bandage. He semi-consciously reached for Nikki’s hand, but his wrist was caught halfway and pinned to the wall above his head. Immobilized this way, with Nikki’s knee between his thighs, Vince was completely defenseless.

Nikki leaned closer, his hot breath brushing Vince’s face. “If I ever see you touch – no, even look in a direction of a weapon, any weapon, I will break your fucking fingers. One by one, on both hands. You don’t need them to serve your real purpose anyway. Is that clear now? Am I being convincing enough?”

He was damn convincing, that was for sure. The icy fear coiling in Vince’s guts almost completely put out the burning flame of indignation at the injustice. But he still wanted to know how Nikki would explain that. Surely such a strong reaction didn’t come from just the fear of being criticized. Or, if it did, Nikki’s authority on the ship was much more fragile than it initially seemed.

“But why? I can’t really hurt you - any of you - and you know it!”

Nikki tilted his head, looking at him silently. His expression shifted ever so slightly, sending another array of goosebumps down Vince’s back, but for a different reason now. The anger was still there, but it… calcified, lost its dynamics. Vince recalled a time he felt the same uneasiness – when looking at a death mask of his late uncle. Only Nikki wasn’t dead, and there had to be something underneath it.

Finally, he spoke.

“Yes, you can’t really hurt us, not by a long shot.” His voice was the same unnatural kind of menacing as his face. “You’re not equal to us in any respect either, though. The crew, especially Mick, are being lenient to you in that – you eat with them, you talk to them, you might even joke around a bit – but you’re not one of them and never will be. All of them earned their place here, be that their skill, bravery, intelligence or hardness. You, on the other hand,” Nikki released Vince’s shoulder only to hook his finger under the collar and pull on it, “you have none of that. You’re a whiny, spoiled, ungrateful brat. You’re only good for one thing, and that is what you’re going to do while on the Shout, whether you want it or not. You seem to forget what it is. Do you want me to remind you?”

“No,” Vince murmured, already knowing that his answer would not change anything.

“See,” Nikki pulled harder on the collar, and now their faces almost touched, “you’re doing that again. Shirking, slacking off. Counting on preferential treatment that you’ve been getting your whole life. I have bad news for you: here you have to earn every little bit of food you’re getting, every sip of beer you’re drinking. And do you know how are you gonna do that?” Nikki smiled an unnatural, toothy smile. “By spreading your legs in front of me and anyone who I give my permission to use you. By doing what I tell you to, whenever and wherever I want. By being a good, obedient, docile little whore. And a whore doesn’t need a weapon. Did I answer your question?”

Blood flushed to Vince’s cheeks; his throat closed up. Not that he didn’t know any of that, but he was still clinging to Nikki’s vague promise of rising in the ranks if Vince proved himself worthy even without realizing that, even knowing it was never going to happen. This was it, though; this was the last straw. There was nothing for Vince in the future, just more pain and humiliation, as if what he already had got was not enough.

Another slap, this time unexpected, again blinded him. What was that for, to drive the lesson home?

“I don’t tolerate when my questions are ignored,” Nikki explained when he caught Vince’s confused gaze. “Once again. Did I answer your question?”

Never before had a nod seemed this challenging. As Vince tilted his head forward, his tongue tasted metallic.

“Good.” Nikki finally released him and stepped back. Vince’s knees were so weak he could barely stand and had to lean onto the wall for a moment. This surely wasn’t the end of it, he thought, watching Nikki warily. There had to be more coming, something that would warrant dragging him to the cabin when all the things so far said and done to him would be much easier and more effective to do outside, in front of the whole crew. Nikki was just messing with him, giving him an inkling of hope only to later step on it. And he still hadn’t demanded Vince follow up on his promise.

But seconds passed, and Nikki wasn’t making the next move. What’s more, he didn’t even pay any more attention to Vince, lighting up a cigarette and settling in his chair with his back turned to him instead. But he didn’t give him a permission to leave either, and after what just happened Vince wouldn’t hurry to treat a lack of explicit prohibition as one.

Things were getting really awkward, and Nikki didn’t seem to care one bit. Vince began to slowly move along the wall in the direction of the door. No response from the captain.

Oh, damn this motherfucker. “Sir?” Vince called, his voice trembling. “Can I go?”

Nikki turned his head slowly and looked Vince over from head to toe. Vince couldn’t handle the smug look on his face, so he looked above his shoulder instead.

“Huh, you’re learning.” He let out a cloud of smoke. “Yes, you can.”

Vince took solace in slamming the door of the cabin behind him so hard the whole ship seemed to vibrate at the impact. That was probably the reason why all the pirates followed him with their gazes while he was hurrying across the deck to the hatch that led to the galley, but he still couldn’t shake off the feeling of filth smeared all over his body, invisible to him but clear to everyone else. At one point he caught a glimpse of Slash’s mane in the corner of his eye, but didn’t even turn his head.

Vince wanted to slam the door to the galley behind himself as well, but at the last moment chickened out and softened the push. Still, the sound was louder than usual, prompting Mick, who was chopping something up on the kitchen counter, to turn around.

“Oh,” he said, looking Vince over. “Lemme guess: you did what I explicitly told you not to do?”

“Shut up,” Vince grumbled, pushing past him and plopping down onto his blanket.

“You did,” Mick concluded with a sigh. “You should probably drop by Izzy’s place.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Vince rolled over to face the wall and pulled a blanket over himself. His knees burned like they’ve been sanded off, the shoulder wound throbbed under the wet bandage and the ringing of slaps in the face still echoed in his ears, but overall it could be much worse. He wasn’t going to come crying to the surgeon with every scratch.

“I see.” Mick’s voice hardened. “Well, I’ve got bad news for you: you will do what I tell you to-“

Vince flinched, his tongue again tasting blood.

“-because I’m your boss down here. Now, if you don’t need a doctor, you’re good enough to get your ass up and peel those potatoes. C’mon, c’mon.”

The tapping of the knife on the cutting board resumed. Vince sat up, slowly unwrapped the blanket, picked up the knife sent in his direction and settled at the counter without a word.

It was a good thing he had to stand with his back towards Mick when working. The cook still saw later how badly the potatoes were peeled, though.

[h0ney-gl0ws]

I loved reading the griss one, so hear am I going to request an one shot with Diamant where his s/o got taken alongside his father and him going to the rescue to find s/o badly injured and knocked out about to be used as sacrifice to the fell dragon please?

Hello! I’m so glad you liked the Griss one! Comments like that make it more motivating to write. I like this idea and hope I did it justice for you! Thank you so much for being patient by the way!

Just as a heads up guys, my writing posts may be a bit sparse this month as I am very busy, but feel free to keep sending in requests, just know it may take me a bit longer to write them!

Anyways, onto the story! Enjoy reading and be mindful of the content warnings!

Word Count (Approx):1,763

Content Warnings: Spoilers for chapter 10 of fire emblem engage, Character death, blood, angst

Diamant can hardly focus on the area around him as his mind races with the terrible possibilities of what might have happened. He told his father not to go out there, he told you—— no it was his fault. He should’ve been more forceful, he shouldn’t have let you out of his sight. If only you had listened to him, but there’s no time for “What ifs” not when you are in danger.

“Where have you hidden King Morion, as well as Y/n?” The divine dragon says, cutting Diamant out from from his own thoughts.

“All will be known in due time.” King Hyacinth says with an eerie tone.

“Tell us—now!” Alear demands.

Prince Alfred cuts in, “Look, over there! There are people besides the altar!”

The party gauges the figures. Diamant feels relief wash over him at the sight of his father’s frame. Although the second figure causes him to worry again. Your limp body draped across the floor. He cannot tell if you are breathing from where he stands.

“Can it be…Diamant, it’s Father—he’s alive!” Alcryst exclaims.

However, King Morion has not turned around to acknowledge his sons. Diamant has a bad feeling about this, yet he calls out anyways, “Don’t worry! We’re here to save you both!”

Again…nothing….

“Somethings wrong….”

With uneven shaky steps, King Morion stumbles around. Diamant’s heart sinks in terror as inhuman glowing red eyes stare back at him. No… He can hear his own heart pounding.

The corrupted King Morion lets out a blood curdling roar.

“Father!” Diamant didn’t even register that he had spoke, until the divine dragon was finishing his sentence.

“He’s been…” The room falls silently. The reality of the situation sinking in as the opposing sides glare at one another.

King Hyacinth tuts, “It appears you were a few moments too late. As you can see, the ritual has been carried out.”

Rage takes over Diamant’s fear. What right did this man have to take away not only his father, but you as well? “Hyacinth… You bastard!” He practically growls out.

“We have to leave at once, Alear. Call a retreat without delay.” Marth’s calm voice speaks up.

“We cant!” She replies.

“King Morion is beyond our aid…”

“What do you mean? You would have us…leave our own father behind? I cannot! I will not abandon him here!” Alcryst cries.

“The only option is to fight Hyacinth, and even if father is—is…“ Diamant can’t even bring himself to say it, if he says it then it becomes real..he has to accept it, so he can’t, no, he wont let that happen. “She could still be alive! If there’s a chance, I won’t flee especially after…after what he has done!”

“Diamant! Alcryst….” Alear says.

“Foolish, but I am not a bit surprised.” King Hyacinth says. With a tilt of his head the large doors to the cathedral shut. Leaving them trapped inside, “This grand cathedral will serve as your grave. Thanks to your impetuousness, you brought the rings unto my very hand.”

“So be it, Hyacinth…now we fight!”

The divine dragon’s troops rush in against King Hyacinth’s corrupted. While Diamant’s nature is surely shaken, he has to appear strong. For Alcryst, for father, for you… He has to continue to fight. He knows what he must do.

By the orders of the divine dragon, they are able to push through the corrupted. Slashing apart all who dare to get in his way. Letting those who’s rest was disturbed return to the peaceful confines of death. Diamant wonders if all of those who were corrupted were like his father. If so, he will do them the favor of setting their souls free, in order to protect the ones of which he loves.

At least up until….King Morion, Father… stood before him. He has a clear shot. The perfect opportunity to end his father’s misery. As he looks into the glowing eyes of his father, or rather the empty husk of what used to be his father…he froze. Memories start to flash before his eyes, the day he got his first lance, the time he got hurt after his magic lesson, when mother died….His father was there for all of it. His father made those memories better. Diamant’s not ready to let that go. He never got to say all the things he wanted to say, and now he never will.

Diamant’s stance falters, his lance falling below his waist. King Morion stumbles forward a step, then another, until he was charging up for a blow. Raising his weapon, and letting out a guttural cry. Do something Diamant… do something!

Fwoosh! An object whizzes past Diamants head, hitting his father right in the chest. Sending the corrupted king down. Diamant whips around to see his brother, lowering his bow. Glossy eyes threatening to have tears spill over.

“Go Diamant, I’ll handle father, you have to get to Y/n!” Alcryst begins in a shaky voice, “If we can’t save father, at least save her! We’ll cover you!”

Diamant nods dumbly before shaking his head. Now is not the time for him to lose focus. He scans the cathedral. Forces are fighting everywhere. Luckily none seem to be focusing on him. HIs eyes trail over to where he last saw your body. You’re still there. No one is around, now’s his chance. He runs as fast as his legs can carry him over to where you are laying.

Falling to his knees as he arrives next to you. He cups your body lifting you to his lap. The sight of you causes his heart to stop. You have a large wound on your head with a large amount of blood spilling down onto your face from it. Your hair is matted and has copious amounts of dried blood in it as well. Your eyes are closed and the worst part, Diamant can’t hear your breathing.

He chokes back the need to sob, instead hugging you close pressing his face into your chest. He tries to calm his shaky breaths, willing that by the divine dragon herself that this isn’t happening. Despite the raging bloodshed around him, in the heat of the moment it is just you and him, and Diamant thinks for a moment his ears are playing tricks on him as he hears the faintest….beat of your heart. He pulls back, trying not to get his hopes up, he examines you further…could it be? Your breathing! It’s the most shallow, strained breaths Diamant has ever seen, but you’re not dead, and that’s all that matters to him.

“My love, don’t worry, we are going to get you out of here. You are going to be okay, I promise. Please just hold on. That’s all you need to do darling. I swear, King Hyacinth won’t get away with what he did to you and…father. Just hang on.” Diamant whispers to your unconscious self, his fear being replaced with anger.

Between King Hyacinth, The fell dragon, and the four hounds, the next moments went by in a blur. They went by so fast, they lost so much in only a few moments. King Morion, the emblem rings, not to mention you were in critical condition. There was no choice but to fall back.

Tensions were high back at the Somniel. Everyone is in a state of distress after what went down at the cathedral. Diamant hasn’t had much time to check in on the divine dragon, and Alcryst’s usual hiding away tendencies have increased tenfold, but right now Diamant’s full focus has been on you.

You’ve been residing in the somniel’s infirmary. Jean, Celine, and the other healers that reside around the somniel have around have been doing all they can to stabilize your condition. Diamant has rarely left your side. He often sleeps in the chamber where you are being kept, and only ever really leaves when Jean shoos him out. For quite a small kid he can really be forceful when he needs to be.

And yet even though a week has passed you have still not woken up.

“Her condition has gotten better since we first got her.” The small doctor-in-training says.

“Do you think she’ll be waking up soon?” Diamant asks.

“She’s…getting better, you should just focus on that for the time being.”

Diamant thanks Jean before stepping into your chambers again. You look a lot more peaceful now that your wounds have started healing steadily. Color has returned to your face, and you could almost be mistaken for simply being sleeping rather than severely injured. In all honesty to Diamant, you look like a goddess. Which is why seeing you this way is all the more painful.

Diamant quietly steps over the bed you are laying on. He grasps your hand within his own, pressing a light kiss to your knuckles, “Hello, again darling. Did you miss me? I miss you…every day. The Divine Dragon has been in a state of disarray since the incident, she’s angry, and scared. Frankly, I think were all a bit scared, Lord Sombron has our emblem ring after all, and…father’s gone. A man who thought himself to be invincible…it’s frightening. Alcryst hasn’t spoken to me, I’m not sure if he’s spoken to anyone for a while now. The whole father thing has really taken a toll on him…I wish I was stronger in that moment. Maybe then I would’ve been the one to take father down, and Alcryst wouldn’t have to carry that burden. Or maybe if we were just faster, father would still be here, and you would be awake…..

Please wake up Darling, I cant do this without you….Please” Diamant sighs, silent tears slipping down his face as he presses his face against you. Trying to get any sense of comfort from back when you were awake…

…”D-Diamant?”

[artemisia-black]

I really love your Black family metas and over the years I’ve definitely become more interested in the family than I was when I first read the books. I always thought that Regulus was very interesting to me, because canonically we know very little about him, but ofc fandom has taken that to mean he can be either very softened or turned into a Death Eater at like age 11(I’ve read both of these lol). Anyway, I was wondering what you thought about how Regulus came to join up with the Death Eaters. I know a lot of people try to have him be forced into it(I think as a way to excuse his actions), but there’s no real evidence for that, and also in order for him to have a redemption arc(of a sort)- he needs to have done something wrong lol. I always thought that it was a mix of Regulus genuinely being interested in the DE’s and also Bellatrix(and perhaps Malfoy) seeing that interest and grasping onto it. So there could have been some manipulation involved for sure and peer pressure going on, but joining the Death Eaters was also something that Regulus did seem like he was interested in. Not to mention he literally has news clippings about Lord Voldemort hung up around his room- which Reg? Buddy? You good? He’s not James where you would probably have to like erase his mind to get him to join Voldemort’s side. Rather I think he was someone who already showed an interest/fascination in what Lord Voldemort was doing and this would make it easier for Bellatrix to use that to get him to join(and I wouldn’t be surprised if she used his parents as leverage too-like “This could make them proud,”). So I really do love him and I do think that there was some form of pressure/manipulation involving his joining of the Death Eaters, but I also think a lot of it was his own idea and that’s where he would need a redemption arc, because he did some bad stuff before his death. Also I’m sorry this is so long- I just have so many feelings about this subject 😂

I also don't see him as being forced into it. During Kreacher's exposition speech he literally says that Regulus joined willingly:

"he knew what was due to the name of Black and the dignity of his pure blood. For years he talked of the Dark Lord, who was going to bring the wizards out of hiding to rule the Muggles and the Muggle-borns . . . and when he was sixteen years old, Master Regulus joined the Dark Lord. So proud, so proud, so happy to serve."

So Regulus was talking about joining the Deatheaters for years before he actually did and had clearly bought into the surface-level ideology. It's interesting that Kreacher also includes 'muggles' and not just muggle-borns, so Regulus was fully up for a complete world takeover, not just a 'reform' of the wizarding world's intake policies.

I also don't think his parent's forced him. Even Sirius, who claims to 'hate the lot of them,' can't bring himself to actually call them Deatheaters. Although he does say that their pureblood ideologies primed Regulus for Deatheater recruitment. And going back to Regulus being 'happy to serve,' I think the proud and haughty Blacks would have been horrified at that alone.

I'm not sure if you're reading my WIP Pietas, but this quote (get me quoting myself haha) summarises what I think set Regulus up on his destructive path:

‘Of course, father,’ Regulus said, returning the smile as his pulse quickened in anticipation. He had been dreaming of this moment for years, the endless possibilities chasing each other around his head as he replied with a simple, ‘I am keen to hear both yours and grandfather’s plans for me.’

Orion nodded returning his goblet to the table, ‘Well, you will of course be expected to achieve both excellent OWL and NEWT results,’ he paused and allowed Regulus to nod.

Orion’s voice softened and he indulged in yet another smile, ‘And in the meantime, we will procure you a wife from an excellent family.’

Regulus nodded once more, despite the desire to question his father bubbling inside him. The anticipation becoming almost intolerable as it caused his heart to beat uncomfortably fast. The moments seemed to stretch into infinity, as he silently willed his father to continue talking.

‘As for your long-term future,’ Orion began, once more pausing to eat as Regulus suppressed the urge to throw a Sirius-esque tantrum.

‘Your grandfather Arcturus and I, feel a Black is needed at Hogwarts. As in recent years, that school has allowed too many dangerous ideas to fester and corrupt children from pureblood families.’

 His eyes pierced Regulus as they continued. ‘You will help tamper the nonsense down and one day you will become headmaster.’

As his father finished, Regulus took a large gulp of his wine and almost spluttered as his thoughts chattered over each other.

Disappointment clanged through him, leaving a hollow feeling in his chest. He had been hoping to help with his family’s political dealings. He had yearned to dedicate his life to something that would aide in bringing wizards out of hiding and help his family take their rightful place on the world stage. He had dreamed of the day when wizards could openly use magic and their superiority was acknowledged by all.

Annoyance rose in his chest, but determined to not act like his brother, he willed his emotions into check.'

I basically interpret him as someone who feels superior but lives in his brother's shadow. But is equally as determined and intense as his brother (the Note is as feisty as anything Sirius would write) and puts his beliefs into action. I interpret his defection as being about the Horcruxes rather than because he suddenly got all woke about muggles. I have a meta about souls here.

Also, his Voldy mood board can be interpreted as him intelligence gathering after finding out about Horcruxes- it's described as 'ragged', which is a contrast to the rest of his room (also Sirius gathers intelligence in a similar way in Gof). Or it could be that he walked into the DE's knowing full well what they were about and did so willingly because he was willing to spill blood for his ideals.

I love chatting about Regulus- so thanks for this :D