#Now I am interested to hear your favourites as well...

[sexlapis]

ᝰ.ᐟ read me to sleep (zhongli’s version)

── .✦ zhongli x gn!reader

s4w, fluff, reading, established relationship, petnames

. wc: 1k

a/n: i’m finally living up to my name who would’ve thought? anyway. i’m just so obsessed with the idea of someone (with a very sexy voice) reading to me and that’s why i’m made this fic with zhongli (& nanami). it was lowkey tricky figuring out what petnames zhongli would call his s/o but i know he would not say ‘baby’ or anything modern.

masterlists

*

He’s not in bed when you wake up.

You blink sluggishly, rubbing the matter and tiredness out of your eyes before you paw at Zhongli’s side of the bed.

It’s only a little bit lukewarm, meaning he left bed quite a while ago.

But to do what?

You recall completing your nightly ritual which included showering, brushing your teeth, washing your face and kissing Zhongli goodnight and falling into a light sleep.

The bedroom door is slightly agar and you decide to take initiative and find your partner yourself.

Sitting up, you unravel yourself from the warm, pleasant satin sheets, wrap yourself in your thin blanket and pad out of the bedroom door and into the hallway.

You wander down the hallway of you and Zhongli’s shared home. It is furnished with cabinets and drawers of the freshest, finest mahogany, the walls embellished with painting of ancient myths of dragons, goddesses and vast mountains, created with an utmost delicate hand, along with traditional, treasured Chinese ornaments and decor.

It is like everything Zhongli touched turned to gold.

You pass the bathroom, guest room and office on your short journey, and then you end up in front of the library.

Of course he would be here.

The library was Zhongli’s favourite room in the entire house. Though it was not exactly sizable, it was cosy and contained rare collections of books that could not ever be found elsewhere.

Amber and vermillion light flickered from the sill of the door emitting from the fireplace, signalling to you that the room was very much in use by Zhongli.

You twist the doorknob and peek in.

There, sitting on a leather armchair, is Zhongli, his reading glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, and a book held within his hands. The lights from the fireplace dance across Zhongli’s skin and his long, ombré hair.

He seems so engrossed in his book, he doesn’t seem to notice you at first. Something like this, him not noticing you come in or hearing you whatsoever, would only occur in the comfort of your shared home, where he feels safe.

“Zhongli,” you quietly call out.

Zhongli’s head perks up, looking at you.

“Oh!” He says your name in surprise. “I was not aware that you had awoken! I did not wake you, did I?”

“No…not necessarily…” You rest your temple on the doorframe, pouting a little. “I got up and went looking for you ‘cause you weren’t in bed.”

“Oh, I see.” Zhongli rests his concern frown. “I had only wished to read some pages of the book I am reading. ‘Rex Incognito, Volume 2’.”

“Ooooo…” You tiptoe over to him, looking over his shoulder at the book, “and is it good?”

“Well,” he sighs, “the ideas are…very interesting.”

You laugh, knowing that that is Zhongli’s way of saying ‘the book is trash’.

“But, I suppose I should get some rest. Sleep is essential for me now, after all.”

…When has it never been essential?

You shrug off that comment and stop him from getting up from his seat. “No, it’s okay. You can keep reading, I just wanna be here too.”

“Oh…well then…” Zhongli starts, then he realises you are blatantly eyeing his lap and he hums, a smile appearing on his lips. He spreads his legs a few inches, patting his thigh, “Come here.”

You practically hop into his lap like a bunny, causing him to laugh so wholeheartedly at your eagerness. The blanket around your shoulders now lay across your legs, and you nuzzle your head into his neck.

“Comfortable?” He asks.

“Yes…” You pause for a few moments, “Zhongli, I want you to read to me.”

“Hm? Do you? This book or another? This book is not exactly thrilling…”

“Yes, Zhongli,” you place your hand over his one, gently stopping him from moving, “I wanna hear you read this one.”

Zhongli’s warm eyes crinkle as he smiles at you, a tender look on his face. “As you wish.”

His body is hard. Solid. Like a rock. It makes you feel safe, steady and protected, guarded in his arms and his grand house like a dragon shielding his precious, beloved jewels.

Zhongli reads. His voice is rich, dulcet, sapid. It is so gentle yet so strong, like the thick stalk of bark and tree, sturdy and stable, yet smooth, like pouring a red wine into a delicate glass.

His voice flows through your body. With your ear pressed near his chest, you revel in the low rumble of his speech, the undeviating beating of his heart, and the bodily warmth that radiates from him.

All of this, along with the cosy ambience and the crackling of the fire has you on a journey to your perfect slumber.

“Does my reading bore you, dearest?”

Your eyes snap open, suddenly wide awake. “Huh? No! Keep reading!”

“I jest, I jest.” Zhongli chuckles and you flick his arm. “Try to stay awake. The best part is coming soon.”

“Okay…”

You try to pry your eyes open with willpower alone, the sleepiness causing them to droop every few moments. Your heart wants you to stay awake so bad, to please Zhongli, but your body says ‘sleep, sleep, sleep’ and you have no choice but to obey.

“Zhongli,” you murmur with drowsiness, “Zhongli, ‘m gonna fall ‘sleep…”

He hums. “I know, my love. Please, sleep. I will continue reading to you until you are having the sweetest of dreams.” Zhongli rests his head on to of yours.

You are just so sweet in his eyes.

You grumble.

And then, slowly but surely, you are fading away into a deep, endless sleep, with Zhongli's melodious voice being your lullaby.

“‘And’-Ah.” Zhongli stops his reading when he realises you are fast asleep, you breath even and snores quiet. “Alright then,” he places a soft kiss on your forehead. “Sweet dreams.”

*

Upon your awakening, Zhongli is gone again, most likely to perform his daily work duties.

But not before leaving you a traditional breakfast, cooked perfectly to the minute, along with a small note written in cursive penmanship, that reads:

Good morning, beloved,

I apologise for leaving so early, duty calls I’m afraid.

I hope you enjoy the breakfast I prepared. It is healthy and good for the start of the day.

Luckily, my duties will be complete at an earlier time. Perhaps we can have a satisfactory dinner and then have a relaxing night in?

No boresome books this time around.

Yours,

Zhongli

*

a/n: i tried to write him in character but i think i did too much lmao.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can I request headcanons for Remy with shy gn s/o please?

Remy loves how shy you get whenever he does near enough anything.

Your flustered and cute responses to his affection only made Remy want to smother and flirt with you all the more than he already did! You were far too sweet for many but to him you were just sweet enough that it should be forbidden.

He’d kiss the back of your hand, guide you by the small of your back through crowed areas, press tender kisses against the side of you head just to see that sweet, timid smile of yours that you always made before looking away from him to calm your reaching heart.

It was Remy’s favourite part of being with you is knowing that your reactions were genuine, not an ounce of emotion you’ve shown him was fake or fabricated. You may hate it but Remy loved it more than ever as it meant he could tell the effect he had on you no matter what.

‘Good morning mom Cherie.’ He said while pressing a kiss to your cheek as you smiled sheepishly at him. It fills with nothing but warmth and a sensation that felt as though he had butterflies in his stomach.

‘Good morning Remy.’ You reply and he couldn’t help but steal a kiss from your lips, causing you to squeak in surprise.

‘Remy.’ You whined, ‘we talked about you surprising me with affection and how it gets me.’

‘I know and I’m sorry mom Cher but you are just the sweetest thing alive that I just wanna eat you up.’ Remy replied as he gently nipped at your bottom lip cheekily, causing you to softly swat his arm before crossing your arms over your chest.

‘Am I forgiven?’ - Remy

‘I guess .’ - you

He loved the squeals and jolts you did whether he held you from behind before meting into his hold as though it’ll keep you safe and protected, you had so much trust in him with your heart that he was genuinely worried that he might make you regret giving him such an important task one day.

He respects your boundaries for if you feel things have gone on long enough, he wasn’t going to push you out of your comfort zone for his needs or wants, he just wands and needs you to be happy.

So for now he takes to appreciating every moment he gets to spend with you no matter what as you deserved to be worshiped and appreciated for everything you’ve given him, and if you ever were to show an ounce of insecurity about yourself, Remy was more then ready to shower you in sweet whispers and tender kisses and lovingly hugs to show you that you were everything and more to him if that was even possible.

‘Wouldn’t you be with someone more confident or social?’ You’d ask him one day and it broke his heart to hear you say such things because why should he desire anyone else when he has you.

‘And why do you i should be with someone like that when i have everything I’ll ever want or need right in front of me.’ He replied, kneeling in front of you with worried expression. You shrug. ‘I just don’t think we’re compatible and that what we have won’t last and you’ll find someone who can keep up with you..’

‘Oh mon Cher.’ Remy sighed as he held your hands in his, intertwining your fingers, bringing them to his lips as he kissed each and every one of your fingers. ‘We’re more compatible then you think, you may think we don’t fit well together but to me we couldn’t be two piece of the same puzzle, meant to be in more ways then one. We fill in the others blanks, we balance each other out and there should be nothing more important then that.’ Remy concludes as he eyes your lips.

‘May I kiss you mon Cher?’ He asks

‘You never have to ask but yes, yes you may kiss me. That sounds good right about now.’ You answered chuckling as Remy kissed you gently and slowly but deeply enough to convey his feelings towards you.

Remy didn’t care that you were shy or less interested in social interactions or were more of a homebody type of person, you were perfect the way you were and Remy wouldn’t want you any other way.

[mrskokushibo]

Warnings: Sex, Smut, NSFW, MDNI, 18+, Funny

Summary: It gets both steamy and funny when you manage to rile up Sanemi. And the man really has a short fuse. Modern AU.

A/N: For all you MHA fans, you are welcome to replace Sanemi with aged-up Bakugo. I can almost hear his voice in Sanemi's lines.

Masterlist

The afternoon was going well until you made the fatal decision to go to the arcade. It was ages since you both last been and the silly in you wanted to try if it was as much fun as you remembered it to be. At first, Sanemi was enjoying himself but very soon things went south. You were winning, time after time, beginner luck at first, but when your winning streak continued, he was no longer able to contain his frustration.

‘This shit is rigged. How the fuck can you be winning all the time?’

You laughed impulsively.

‘Seriously Nemi, how can it be rigged? Do you think I am in cahoots with the owner?’

Your grin became vicious and you lowered your voice into a conspiratorial whisper while leaning closer to him.

‘Maybe I slept with him to get ahead?’ You followed this with a wink.

He was not amused. He glared at you pursing his lips and continued the game.

‘Fuck. How do you do it?’ He almost growled out after losing yet again.

You shrugged and gave him an innocent but triumphant smile, and even did a little victory dance. And…you shouldn’t have.

‘Enough! We are going. This was not a good idea and I am not coming back here again.’

You giggled and put your hand into his as you began walking out of the noisy arcade.

The cool evening air and your mild hand softened his mood and by the time you came back home, he was seemingly fine. But, once on the sofa, his eyes flared up in vicious intent.

‘Let’s play Battlefield. I bet you can’t beat me there.’

It was his favourite online shooter that you only played a handful of times. You did not take to it and, to be honest, you weren't interested in gaming that much anyway.

‘Yeah, whatever. But don’t you just want to watch a movie and cuddle?’ You asked with a flirtatious smile.

‘We can do that later.’ He was already pulling out the controllers and logging in to the online portal.

He passed you the controller and a few moments later you were moving through a village in the middle of a desert, first-person view of your surroundings, trying to avoid or shoot the enemy. For each time Sanemi got shot and revived, you stayed alive and kicking. When you quickly glanced at him, his jaw was tensed and his eyes had that half-insane focused look in them.

‘Nemi, you are taking this far too seriously.’

‘This is serious.’ He barked out, which caused you to burst out laughing.

He paused the game and looked at you. A long, drawn-out, crazy stare. “If looks could kill” was probably the best description of what was being projected from his light-purple pupils.

‘Relax, babe.’ You put your hand on his thigh and began riding up to his groin. ‘Let me help you.’

You cooed and started rubbing him through his jeans, the bulge slowly growing from your treatment. He was alternating staring at you and down at your hand.

‘Do you really think I am some primitive gorilla that can be pacified with sex?’ He was seething with increasing irritation.

‘No, of course not, I don’t think that. Why would I?’ You cocked your head and smiled, biting your lip while continuing to rub his now quite prominent hardness.

‘Fuck you.’

‘Yes, fuck me, Nemi… ‘

This was followed by a moment of silence after which he suddenly growled quietly and flipped you over on your stomach.

‘Alright, I will fuck you. But don’t say you didn’t ask for it. Because I don’t intend on holding back.’

You bit your lip in anticipation. You liked it when he was rough, but it would probably piss him off even more to know that right now you wanted him to be exactly that, heavy-handed. So instead, you just lay still, tiny, pinching, shivers running down your spine as his hands touched your ass and began pulling up your skirt. 

His hand disappeared momentarily, and the sound of his zipper being pulled down sent even more electricity up your spine. He grunted as you could hear him get up and pull down his trousers. And then he was back at you, slapping your ass repeatedly, you moaning in response.

‘Now, bitch, I will show you who is boss here.’ He rubbed you to excessive wetness and began pressing his cock into you, without much consideration for positioning himself properly. He was too eager to be tough.

‘Nemi, that’s my other hole. You need to reposition.’

‘Argh! You don’t need to tell me what to do. I know what I am doing.’

He shifted and slammed into you, missing your opening entirely and burrowing himself into the sofa. He was so consumed with the combination of rage and arousal that he managed to give the sofa a few hard thrusts.

‘Babe, you are not inside.’

‘Stop talking. I know I am not.’

‘Should I assist you? In finding the hole? It’s like pinball, you know..’ You giggled. You could not help yourself to make the arcade allusion, because his reactions were simply too entertaining.

‘Do you think I’m funny, huh? Let’s see if you think this is funny then.’

This time around, he pumped his fingers into your pussy, positioned himself correctly, and slammed into you causing you to gasp.

 ‘How do you like this?’

‘I like it.’

His bare teeth were now grazing up your back and finished up on the side of your neck, the proximity of his warm, strong body causing you to clench a little extra. His breath was near your mouth and he hissed in a raspy voice:

‘Brace yourself, fuckdoll.’ You loved it when he called you that.

He kept his proximity to you and started to hammer his hips into the softness of your ass. You were a little shaken as his pace increased. Your breath started to sync with his thrusts, but he kept it up so fast you were left gasping for air. He pushed deeper and harder until you were whimpering from his force.

He then pushed the whole length of his cock into you, and you could feel the head pushing at your cervix. The pain and pleasure sent shivers throughout your body. Your legs were shaking uncontrollably now, and you could feel your pussy start to gush. He continued his thrusting as if you weren't even there. Your knees were about to buckle, but he pulled you up again by the waist, his fingers digging into your flesh, and started his relentless thrusting once again.

You could barely breathe, and you were starting to see stars, the only sounds you could hear were your own heartbeat, his ragged breathing, and the sound of his cock driving into your soaked pussy. You started to lose consciousness, your vision narrowing to a point.

‘Nemi, I’m coming.’ You whimpered out as the familiar feeling of needing to pee was turning into a full-blown climax accompanied by your pussy gushing like a fountain.

As you slipped into a blissful abyss, his cock finally erupted and released the thick, white cum that had been building up. It coated your womb and dripped out onto the sofa. His breathing started to slow down, and he released his grip on your waist. Your legs gave out, and you slumped forward, resting your head on the soft cushions.

He grabbed his sweatshirt off the floor and cleaned himself and your leaking pussy. He then pulled you upright and wrapped his arms around your waist, leaning his head on your shoulder. You placed a hand on his head and caressed his hair.

‘Are you calm again now, my dear?’ You whispered into his ear.

‘I was never agitated. What are you implying? That I lost control?’ Irritation was beginning to simmer up in him again. You let out a giggle. You could feel him tense up behind you, and his hands went for your throat. You tried to get away, but his grip tightened.

'What's so funny, hmm?'

You struggled to get out a few words. 'Nemi...please.' You begged.

'Please what, slut?' He replied, his grip getting tighter.

Your head was going fuzzy again, but his grip was not tight enough to make you black out. He was not a monster, after all, and besides, you did enjoy it, your juices running down your leg from his grip on your delicate flesh. You felt his cock growing stiff again. He really was insatiable. He let go of your throat and turned you around. He sat down on the sofa and pulled you into his lap.

'Now, we need to get a few things straight, doll. If I am going to continue to put with you, then you are going to need to understand that I am the one in control here, do you understand?' This was his usual way of asserting himself, that never really worked on you other than make your pussy drip.

‘Just like you were in control of the game controllers just a moment ago?’ You giggled while grabbing his cock and lowering your full weight onto him.

He could no longer keep up the tough façade, the cracks showing by a playful spark appearing in his eyes. He laughed through closed lips and shrugged.

‘Yeah…just like that. Well, I guess we both know that you are the boss here, my kitten.’ He groaned as you began riding him. And this was the beginning of a long, adrenaline-fueled night filled with sensual and passionate sex. Lesson learned? Annoying Sanemi was well worth it.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Hope I can make you laugh with this oldie but goodie. Imagine Bakugo instead of Nemi 😅 @doumadono @crystalwolfblog

[vrystalius]

I have been way too shy to ask you for a request and now that i am here writing it, it feels weird but, i love your writing way too much ❤️❤️❤️ can we get the Hashira and upper moons if it's not too much 😅. A scenario where they always been in love and had this huge crush on reader but they always say "I will confess when the moment is perfect" but then the reader falls in love with a boy from the village ,but then he breaks her heart by leaving her and now she is crying and sulking in her favourite spot when they find her and now they take the opportunity to confess telling her she needs someone who actually loves her and takes care of her.

(Sorry if it's too much it's my first ask and I don't know how else to put it please pardon my bad english) ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Heartbroken

You’re crying from being heartbroken. What will the hashira do?

Note: I kind of completed this request differently and noticed it too late, I’m so sorry! And I apologise that it took so long. Thank you for sending in a request, I am extremely honoured that you entrusted me with this ask. I’ll try to write one for the Upper Moons as well. Your english is perfectly fine! Again, thank you!

Pairing: Sanemi, Kyojuro, Gyomei, Giyu x gn!reader

Sanemi Shinazugawa

He’s been denying his feelings for you for a while now. You’re too pretty, too smart, too strong and way too good for Sanemi to even have a single chance at dating you. He has been holding his feelings inside while watching you talking interacting with that damn kakushi everytime you saw them. Sanemi saw how much your eyes brightened up and your smile widened when with them.

He hated it so much. He fucking hated himself for feeling all these things and how much they’re making his heart hurt. It was distracting him from doing his missions properly. Sanemi started to get careless, getting slashed more often and taking more hits during practice. The others started to notice how absentminded he seemed and grew worried for the wind hashira.

Sanemi felt selfish when he helped you lean against his shoulder, holding you close to himself. Your tears were dropping onto his shoulder, beginning to soak his uniform. That damn kakushi rejected you and broke your golden heart, and now you’re here, crying against him. His hand was gently rubbing up and down your arm, trying to soothe you.

His mind was clouded with guilt, now thinking that he might have a chance with you. Was that shitty of him to think of that right now while you wrapped your arms around Sanemi and cried into his shoulder?

“I’ll kill that damn boy for ya. You don’t deserve gettin’ your heart broken…”

Kyojuro Rengoku

You two have been friends for such a long time and Kyojuro fell for you quickly after meeting you. He rants about you to his little brother, boasting about your incredible kindness and intelligence and how truly powerful you are. An incredible hashira who managed to defeat so many demons on your own! Senjuro would always listen quietly while sweeping the porch or preparing a meal for him as his brother. He noticed how brightly Kyojuro begins to glow and how his eyes shine. He truly loves you, he can tell. His brother might not even be aware of how much he actually fell for you.

Kyojuro was more heartbroken to see you this upset than being happy for himself that he has a chance now. He tried everything in his power to cheer you up and comfort you by giving you encouraging words, comforting touches and a big bear hug.

You two have been talking for hours now, about your feelings and what you want to do now. Kyojuro even offered you his dessert while you talked.

“How about you come home with me and we could eat dinner together with my brother? Company might do you good!”

Gyomei Himejima

Gyomei would feel guilty for wanting to have you for himself after hearing that you expressed interest in one of the kakushi. Instead of persuading or trying to convince you to not confess to the kakushi, he’d actively try to bring you two together. If you are happy, Gyomei is. That also included on behalf of his happiness.

He’d encourage you to speak with the kakushi more, to create a bond between you two and create more of a chance that you might have a romantic relationship with him. Whenever you got nervous or unsure, Gyomei was there to encourage and offer advice to you every time.

After your heart was broken, the first person you thought of seeking comfort from was the stone hashira.

His deep voice and gentle hand on your back was incredibly comforting, making you lean against him. Your head was resting against Gyomei’s chest after he wrapped his large arm around you and soothingly stroked your back, offering his comfort.

“It will be okay. Your heart will heal in time. Please know that I will be here for you if you need any support.”

Giyu Tomioka

Giyu didn’t want to get close to you after noticing how much you like that kakushi. He doesn’t want to interfere with your love life and who you choose to be. Instead, he drowns in misery and a wave of depression. Giyu barely spoke to you, and now he’s completely ignoring you. You felt bad for him and wondered if something might have happened that caused him to be so… downcast and depressed. Fearing that you are the reason why Giyu’s acting like this, you decided to stay out of his way as well, just in case.

He accidentally stumbled upon you after your heart was broken. You were crying your heart out while Giyu just awkwardly sat down beside you. His posture was stiff and he wasn’t sure how to comfort you, so he just patter your back silently. He felt a slight glimmer of hope in his chest after finding out why you were so upset, but was extremely bewildered why someone would reject someone as perfect as you.

In Giyu’s eyes, you are the most beautiful, intelligent, powerful, fast and best person in the whole entire world. How could someone be this blind and not see that? Even Gyomei probably knows how beautiful and perfect you truly are, and his eyes are completely clouded. Giyu carefully scooted a little closer to you and made you lean your head onto his shoulder in an attempt to offer comfort.

“You’ll be okay, trust me.”

💠

Again, so so sorry it took so long. My brain was being a little fried and I couldn’t work on any asks and I instead posted my own things. I’m planning to work on more requests!

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!

Take care of yourselves <3

[shitapril]

very often see posts about how the one direction fans grew up to be formula one fans, and the more I think of it, the more it makes sense. putting aside the fact that almost all my f1 friends were 1d fans (were ? are lol), it makes sense that a fandom who's fuel was hyperfixating on boys living out their dreams shifted from one form of it to another.

tha being said, it got me thinking - how do the girlies translate to f1 ? and by girlies i mean what your kpop fan would call a "bias". for example, if i was a niall girl - who's my favourite now ?

so here's a silly little non-sensical analysis and comparison that should not be taken seriously at all :

firstly, the zayn malik girlies are definitely lewis hamilton girlies. both zayn and lewis come from humble backgrounds, were subject to vile, inhumane racial discrimination and hate - all while being arguably the most talented in their respective fields (I mean, you've heard zayn's high note in you & I, and seen lewis' 7 world championships). they're hardworking, pet-loving, very fashionable men who stay out of unnecessary spotlight for the most part, and step out once in a while to remind the world they're drop-dead gorgeous. the zayn girls are safe with lewis.

next comes liam payne - and here on you'll have to hear me out with my comparison of every racer and bandmate. liam and george russell are both aggressively british, unapologetically goofy and true to themselves (and i'm talking about liam in 1d not the one on logan paul's podcast). they're both very talented, highly regarded in their boss' eyes (toto wolff and simon cowell - this post is going to be interesting wow) and still somehow not an immediate fan favourite. this comparison also goes wonderfully well with the whole ziam and britcedes parallels.

thirdly, louis tomlinson. easy peasy. max verstappen. both incredibly blunt, dry humour, pr nightmares, do not give two single hecks. people either love them, or hate them - no in between. both incredibly talented individuals (louis wrote majority of 1d's discography, max has 3 world championships under his belt) and yet are discredited ("louis is only famous cuz of his bandmates and the band itself" and "max just had a good car"). the zayn and louis fued also parallels abu dhabi 2021 quite well aye ? (i'm going insane)

harry styles, no debate. charles leclerc - regarded as the pretty boys (the prettiest, their fans would insist i'm sure) and the most popular, the well-liked. both extremely talented without a doubt, but a little bit overrated, and victimised to glorify and support fan narratives. i know i sound like a hater - forgive me, not my intention. i like them both as individuals - their fans on the other hand (and no, not all, i know) are so blind-sided, so insane and cause so much unpleasantness on the internet. almost ironic, how the most amicable ones have the least liked fans lol. that aside though, if you were a harry girl, chances are you went from one fan-favourite to the other. i also just realised - this supports the larry and lestappen narratives - am i genuinely, honestly onto something here ? (i absolutely am not)

lastly, niall horan. now this one i'm sure will divide you all, but here you go anyway. lando norris. both babied immensely by their fans and bandmates/teammates alike - churchboy persona. the moment they shed the insecurity, suddenly bam everyone hates them (niall's mofo t-shirts, lando's frat boy tendencies, and saying things that the internet will not find funny), promising at a young age, yet somehow grew up to be called overrated. their fans are stubbornly loyal to them, defending them through all their rights, and wrongs. it makes sense to me. one smiley boy to another.

this probably makes no sense - but feel free to add your own comparisons, theories, and notes ! there's 5 of them and 20 on the grid, obviosuly disparity for me to go on and on and on about (for example, I see a little zayn girls to carlos girls pipeline, louis to fernando - oldest boy syndrome and all that) so let me know ! let's yap :)

[scaredpigeons]

Deus Auri

Zhongli x reader (gn)

Word count: 1.04k (smol)

CW: sfw:) mild spoilers for Neuvillettes voice lines about Morax, he calls him Deus Auri, which is god of gold in Latin— might just be a title but any little tidbit of Morax we get I just gobble gobble up. Flirting, zhongli calls you my dear, darling, vixen. No pronouns or other gender specific language used. Some kisses and allusions of wanting more.

Enjoy!

“Deus Auri.”

You can nearly hear the crack of Zhongli’s neck as his gaze whips towards you, but you keep your gaze trained on your book as if you hadn’t seen its comical swivel in your peripherals. 

“I’m sorry my dear, could you repeat that?” He said, though there was an edge to his tone. 

“Deus Auri—God of Gold. What can you tell me about that name?” You said, index finger gliding down the edge of the book. You were no longer reading, but still kept your eyes trained on the pages to pretend like you weren’t vibrating with excitement at his reaction. 

Zhongli was naturally very stoic, a well maintained facade to those who weren’t interested in looking deeper. 

You had been plenty interested, taking one look at him and instantly knowing he was no ordinary man. 

Now the better part of half a year into your blossoming relationship, he still hadn’t outright told you, but he’d grown comfortable. 

You’d catch glimpses of his wrists, normally covered— deep onyx with veins of pure gold. Though this only happened in the safety of his home— there was a time he had to remove his gloves to help you in the kitchen, and his perfectly pale, human hands had distracted you the entire time. 

The glamor he kept up in public slipped a bit when he was more at ease. 

To the eye that was actually looking, zhongli really wasn’t subtle about who he was. 

“Well, why don’t we start with where you heard such a name?” He asked. 

“I was with the traveler last week, helping she and paimon with a commission in Fontaine.” 

You can see the minuscule wince he gives out of the corner of your eye. Just a twitch of the brows as he blinks, so graceful, but you catch it because you’re looking for it. 

“I overheard a conversation she had with a lovely gentleman over there, though I didn’t get to introduce myself. He mentioned the name when the traveler was asking him about Rex Lapis.”

You closed your book, finally turning to look at him, though you kept your gaze coyly through heavy lids, peaking demurely at him through your lashes. 

“And you know, I thought that was very strange, her asking him about Rex lapis, when she could learn anything and everything about him from our resident expert.” 

“The traveler has not visited liyue to see me in some time, darling. And I'm sure there are others who’ve studied the gods. I am not the only knowledgeable one in Teyvat.” 

“I know, I know.” You chewed on your lip a bit for effect, looking puzzled. “So who is this Deus Auri? Is it perhaps another one of Morax’s many names?” 

You looked at him expectantly, grinning as he grew more stiff in his seat beside you. A mere foot of space between you on the couch and he looked like he was ready for you to pounce on him. 

You wanted to, you have wanted to, but he so chivalrously insists upon taking it slow. 

Hand holding in the harbour. Chaste kisses good night. You wanted so badly to break through his barriers but you knew he was holding back.

“You are…” he let a puff of air through his nose. “Correct in the knowledge that Morax was known to have many different names. Unfortunately that is all I can say on the matter.” 

“So cryptic.” You squinted at him. He often shut you out when you pried like this, poking and prodding in places you know you shouldn’t be, but he was always kind and straightforward about it—so you usually dropped it as soon as he denied you. 

“Do you think he had a favourite name that he went by?” You pushed a bit more, hoping to get him to give you just one more crumb before you played your cards. It was time, you were getting tired of hiding it.

He smiled thoughtfully, relaxing into the couch once more. “I’d like to think that he enjoyed the name Rex Lapis, the name given to him by his people. I’m sure it brought him a great sense of pride.” 

You grinned, soaking in his expression and words. Knowing what you know— gods. He really was so cute sometimes. 

You open up your book, stilling your grin to prepare for what was next. 

“Really? I’d like to think Zhongli is his favourite. Retirement is a good look for him.” 

You expected denial, perhaps his neck snapping back to you like it did when you first mentioned the ancient name. 

What you didn’t expect was to be tackled to the floor, a gloved hand supporting your neck instinctively as you and your book tumbled along the floor with the blur of rich oranges and browns that took you down. 

When you finally settled, you were on your back with him looming over you, pining you to the ground. 

“You little vixen. How long have you known?” His eyes were wild, hair a mess, cheeks flushed and breathless. Disheveled.

He looked more beautiful now than you’d ever seen him before.  

“From the moment you opened your mouth.” 

He kissed his teeth in a quick tsk, ducking his head in embarrassment. “Nothing escapes you, does it? I knew I would be in trouble with you.”  

You cupped his face in your hands, pulling him back towards you. 

“And yet you kept me around regardless.” You smiled, giving him a quick, teasing peck on the lips. 

“How could I not? You have an inescapable magnetism that I am completely captured by. I’m afraid to say that you’re unraveling me even as we now speak.” 

You grinned at him, face feeling just as flush as his. 

“How much more unraveling do I need to do to get you to let down those walls you keep around you?” 

“They were gone the moment I saw that you knew the truth, my dear, you should have said something much sooner.” He tilted his head with a soft grin. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him ever closer. 

“Kiss me then, you old blockhead.” 

He gave a rumble in his chest that sounded very much like a growl, and it set your nerves on fire.  

“Behave.” He said sternly. 

“No promises,” you said as you kissed him. 

[growling]

*average self-proclaimed safe space tumblr blog voice* I soooooo support people with schizophrenia that must be so hard to you anyway I just saw some weird looking woman talking to herself right outside my house im fearing for my life should I call the cops. Yeah dude I support all the adhd havers in the chat just try to pay attention when I talk to you it's not that hard it's like the least you could do to show some regard for the other human being in front of you. Like it's fine to have memory problems but why did you forget this one thing in particular that was important to me do you like not care or anything you should try harder. I am one of the only real mental health advocates to still exist in this world I hear your struggles that being said I hope I never get to meet one of those irl sociopaths or people with aspd whatever they call them now they're so freaky and they can blend into society so well you might never know if you're actually face to face with an actual socio i mean person with aspd in the store absolutely one of my biggest fears what if they torture me in their basement. I absolutely empathize with all the people in here suffering from delusions as long as they like, don't actually show it or have one concerning me that'd be highkey uncomfy leave me out of this dude im not talking to you until you get help, anyway my fav character from my anime just presumably died but i still think they actually survived im sooo delulu lol. We should push for more wheelchair accessibility in our cities I agree but like it's so difficult to tell how many people are actually disabled and who are actually faking it, like, ummm why did that "wheelchair" "user" guy stand up just now cover blown lmaoo…. Yeah I support people with facial differences but I still have a right to be disgusted you can't control my emotions anyway can you tag your selfies as #body horror this deeply triggering to me. Speaking of triggering can you also pleaseee hide your scars or at least warn us beforehand jesus do you know how many people genuinely do not want to see it. Here is my extremely fast strobing lights and flashing gifset #epilepsy. Yeah I loveee girls with bpd beautiful princess disorder am i right they're so interesting the stigma sucksssss i'd love to get to be one's favourite person as long as they don't actually have any of those weird or violent symptoms or don't go into any of their "episodes" near me like that's a bit dramatic….. I deeply feel for those who had underwent narcissistic abuse from the hands of an npd I think my shitty ex boyfriend was a narcissist too tbh #surviving narcissism here are 10 signs you are dealing with a narcissist and here's a tutorial on how to trigger a narc crash to epically own them anyway does anyone else think we should start enforcing mandatory castration of all the newly diagnosed narcs like you know what happens when they reproduce right. But I am willing to support them as long as they go to therapy to get that fixed it's just you know. Anyway sometimes hospitalisation is fine if they're genuinely a danger to themselves like what do you want them to go live on the streets or actually get help?? I support all the people dealing with being a professionally diagnosed disordered system and I think it's sooooo terrible how literally 99% of the youth population nowadays is purposefully faking it for attention I did my research (1 minute google search, 2 minute r/fakedisordercringe scrolling session and consulting a single system that agrees with me). It's just not believable to me that there's really that many people with it isn't it supposed to be rare… Also are we really sure all those alleged people in their heads are really real or just their imagination maybe all of them are actually faking it huh food for thought. I am very uncomfortable with nonverbal high support needs ppl actually having sex like consent is supposed to be explicitly verbal only and, are we really sure they can even consent arent they like basically children. You can't call me ableist I'm literally autistic

[six-eyed-samurai]

DIALING...

Silly reasons the Tokyo Rev Boys have dialed you for based off…actual reasons…people have called me for…

🌸Takemitchy calls you for conversation, which suddenly turns to school and "WAIT DON'T WE HAVE A TEST TOMORROW?". Obviously the both of you panic and whip out your books, meaning to study together via phone call but also simultaneously realize you've forgotten the topic...and which class it was for. The rest of the call is just sitting in panicked silence, punctuated with the occasional "We're so screwed."

🌸It’s canon Izana plays guitar! Do you ever think he writes his own songs as well? Maybe, and that's why he calls you in the middle of the night to tell you about it, wanna hear it, oh am I bothering you, it's fine you don't have to listen now (and you'll say “I SAID I'D LISTEN TO IT AND I WILL KUROKAWA NOW SING.”), any suggestions for improvements? And then somehow it spirals into the both of you doing your utmost best to be off key, off tune and completely ruin the song with as many voice cracks as possible.

🌸Chifuyu, bless his heart, calls you out of the blue with no prior warning, at an inconvenient time and scares you enough for a heart attack, but he doesn't realize it, too intent on forcing you to watch the latest anime trailer for the both of your favourite manga with him after you say you can't load the video. He’s downright scandalized, and in his defense he did text you about what he was going to do - only you hadn’t understood he meant call as in call now. I mean, at least the both of you got a kick out of it as he shares his screen, so win-win?

🌸I think Inupi would call you for no particular reason other than to be in your company. You both don't say much but somehow the call spirals to a three hour dial. Whenever one of you gets up you'll flip the camera to show the other where you’re going or what you’re doing. Inupi likes to think it’s like the both of you are having lunch together, doing that jigsaw puzzle together, doing the dishes together…it’s alright if you spend two thirds of the time in silence, your company is enough for him.

🌸Koko calls you for a venting session! He rants about the idiots he’s encountered, his worries, the gang, money problems, boasts on how much he’s made today, stuff he’s bought you, anything really. He knows he could’ve just texted you about it but it’s a lot more personal for him if you pick up and reply back talking, but occasionally he does feel bad he keeps calling you - although you assure him you love it! You do, really, because in turn you get to vent about whatever’s on your mind and Koko always has the best reactions (damn if that girl hasn’t been an absolute bxxch, nooo, she did what now?). He’s like a gal pal and a boyfriend combined.

🌸You’re the one to call Baji, actually, because it’s the only way to get him to study with you if you’re not free to go to his place. You put up with his complaining and force him to answer a bunch of quizzes. The study session goes great for the first half….then somehow you both get sidetracked when Baji says he’s bored and leaves to make yakisoba. You make him take the phone with him and it could’ve been romantic, both of you making noodles from your ends of the line! But no, Baji ends up getting distracted flirting with you and overcooks it into a mushy mess that has you gagging and hanging up on him.

🌸Ran and you call for normal-people reasons like chatting or studying, but more often than not Ran’s childish nature has him more interested in playing with the phone call’s filters (if let’s say you’re using apps like Instagram) and making you pose with him before screenshotting - by the way, you’re the one doing that, because Ran has TERRIBLE timing when it comes to taking photos. If there’s those filters that let you draw on your screen self, oh man does Ran love doodling moustaches, beards, cat ears, the whole gig. If you don’t call him handsome he gets pouty and threatens to hang up or leak that ugly screenshot of you when the phone froze from lag.

🌸With no apology to your ears, Sanzu will call you at 3 a.m. in the morning to either a) make the most terrifying/fart noises known to mankind or b) bombard you with meaningless philosophical questions that made you get out of bed and actually Google them. Of course he doesn’t do this all the time, mostly when he’s high as a kite. Yet you KNOW for a fact he’s sober that night when he suddenly dialed your number and when you picked up, dead silent until the most unholiest rendition of your favorite song is being sung (read: screamed) out. You yelp and hang up, but not before you hear him cackling.

🌸He’s the sort to honestly forget to call you but when he does Mikey makes the call drag on for hours because he has his ways of making you not hang up, but the times he DOES remember to call you is after you tell him no, you can’t eat twenty five dorayaki in one go, I’m not paying for that. He’ll be feeling petty and when he gets his hands on dorayaki he calls you for no other reason than to chew it as loudly as possible next to the microphone so you get the Mikey Premium Dessert ASMR. If you hang up he’s sending voice recordings.

[zoros-bandana]

Hii, can you write something like angst with Zoro? Y/n an him fight and argue about something but they made up at the end??

Miscommunication.

Warning: fighting, yelling, swearing, drinking/slightly drunk

Summary: After being with Zoro for a while, the lack of compliments and attention became a nagging point; wishing to feel special. A conversation with Sanji left an unusual sense of fulfilment you had never experienced before, only to later bring it up with Zoro in hopes he would understand your desires.

Word Count: 1,800

"All I said was that I don't find it fair"

"Yeah, and I know exactly what that means, Y/n!"

You had approached Zoro with the idea this conversation would go smoother, hoping to bring Sanji into conversation after a few drinks would sooth him. It was obvious the mutual displeasure both Zoro and Sanji shared for one another, all the more imposing as you began to date Zoro. It was a taboo topic to even mention a budding nickname for the cook, Zoro shutting down any discussion of him, almost protective in the way of his bitterness.

"Well clearly you don't because you're not listening to me"

Zoro chuckled darkly. "Oh I heard you quite clearly, Y/n. Curly brow had finally gotten to you in his love-sick ways and you're falling for him"

"I'm not falling for him! I'm very much in love with you, Zoro. All that happened was Sanji-"

"Don't fucking mention his name!"

"Well what do you want me to say?"

"Nothing"

"Nothing?"

Zoro grunted, confirming his wish. The bottle of alcohol he held in his hand stayed firm in his grip, once acting as a brace but now as the bottle hit his lips he used it as a distraction. The liquid vanished before your eyes, each chaotic chug intensifying his rage, stewing over exact what Sanji could have said to make you question your relationship with him.

Once of his biggest fears was losing you - an irrational fear in this lifestyle you shared - especially to that of Sanji. Zoro was aware he could be cold and stoic, but never expected you to slip away from him over a short conversation with the cook.

"What did he say to you?" Zoro finally gasped, taking a break from his chugging.

"I thought you didn't want me to say anything?"

"What did he fucking say to you, Y/n?"

A heavy exhale parted your lips, knowing it would fuel the fire to discuss what Sanji had said. Of course you remembered, word for word, replaying over in your head. There was a feeling of utter guilt thinking of someone else instead of Zoro, but the way he spoke, looked at you, even how he leaned into you was enough to make your head spin. It was a softness Zoro had never shown.

At first, it didn't bother you. You knew what exactly who you were dating when you started to crush on Zoro. He didn't appear to have any complex layers, always neutral in his performance and showed no lean for affection or softness around the crew. But as the pursuit of interest happened, and over a long period of time, it was clear just how much you missed something. A part of you craved someone to be vulnerable with, intimate, not afraid to express how they feel about you and make you feel like you mattered. Blame it on your past, or the people that hurt you, but no matter the cause there was always a need for adoration in your life.

Stepping away you calmly took a seat, grounding yourself, your legs buckling under you in a horrendous shake. You could feel Zoro's eye watching your every move, hazed with anger, ready to attack you the second he had the chance.

"I told him I was feeling a little low about myself, and he wanted to comfort me" you began, taking another deep breath. "He told me how incredible I am and that ever since I arrived on the ship I have done nothing but taken his breath away by how beautiful I am. He said he wished he could adore me fully, to look after me and when he made me a cup of tea he remembered how I liked it, even down to my favourite cup..."

You looked up at Zoro, scared to hear the answer, ignoring the blatant anger on his heated face. "What is my favourite cup, Zoro?"

"You don't have one!" Zoro spat, furious you would even ask such a ridiculous question. "You don't even like tea!"

Sighing again you dropped you eyes, hating how the conversation had turned. "I do like tea, Zoro. It's like you don't even know me at all..."

"Yeah, well maybe we should break up then!"

Zoro's words shot through you as a cruel sting, leaving you stunned. You hadn't wished to come to this conclusion, knowing how much you loved and adored your boyfriend, in hopes he would feel the same. But maybe after that, his feelings would never reciprocate your own.

Your hands came up to cover your face, hiding yourself as you sobbed, wailing into your hands. Your body ached forward, curling yourself over into your legs, hiding yourself as much as possible. Every inch of you ached, regretting ever saying anything to him, wishing to just sit on your hurt; anything to have him take back what he said.

"I don't want to break up, Zoro! I just want to feel special! I want to feel like I matter to you and that you find me attractive in some way!"

Zoro furrowed his brows, unsure of how to properly act. The brief intermission of your cries let him breath, seeing you were more upset than angry at him. He was caught in his own whirlwind of anger, blinded by a fog of rage to even consider what you truely wanted; only what he thought he was hearing. His was still furious, but now more-so at Sanji for coming between you and himself, making you feel so hurt and guilty for wanting to express your feelings; and for the way he react to them.

"I do find you attractive, Y/n. I wouldn't be with you if I didn't"

"Then why don't you act like it?"

Your voice cracked, unable to hold back the continued stream you held in for so long. It was unfair how much you felt you had to hold in for Zoro's sake, knowing he wouldn't cope with emotions - your emotions - pushing you away instead. "You have never admitted to how you feel or told me I'm pretty or comforted me and made me feel like everything would be okay"

"I just don't see it as something practical; nothing will ever be okay"

"It doesn't have to be practical all the time. I like affection where I feel seen, and like I feel special to you and not just like I am a friend. You could do this with anyone but I am your girlfriend, I want you to make me feel loved. I don't think that is asking for too much. And I know that not everything has to be okay, but I want us to be, Zoro. I want to be with you"

The heavy footsteps of Zoro came towards you, dragging against the floor. They stopped as his body hovered over you, bending down to see you face-to-face, letting you lift your head to meet his gaze. His face had dropped, neutral as always, giving no indication whether his next words would be insulting or sincere.

"Tell me then, how do I be better for you? What do you want me to say? What do you want me to do?"

You thought for a moment, wiping at the remaining tears pricking your eyes, wishing to see him more human than before. You felt dizzy with emotions, muddled into a pool of dread flooding you to think clearly. You hadn't pondered on the idea, half expecting him to think about your words and find out himself. But as you looked up at him, the lingering notes of alcohol burning his lips, there was a familiar stance of drunk before you; unbeknown whether he would even remember this conversation.

Deciding to let it out, you confessed, hoping even if it was a minute detail something would get through to him.

"I would like you to try and be more soft with your words. Take my feelings into consideration and not to look at me like... that" you waved at his face, making him look away. "Compliment me from time-to-time, tell me I look nice, or something that I am doing is cute, or you like it when I do something small like laugh at a joke. Give me random gifts for no reason; they don't have to be expensive. Hand written notes, a pebble on the beach that reminded you of me, anything that lets me know you think of me when I'm not around"

Zoro stood back up straight, sighing once more as he cleared his head. He knew he had a decision to make, to put you before himself and his feelings, something he struggled to grasp. It wasn't that he didn't care about you or how you felt, but rather how he saw you cope with emotions differently to him. He wasn't used to this; the crying, the pleading, the reasoning. Zoro knew how to bottle himself, keeping as much of his emotions to the side, finding a relief through training. However, meeting you, he never expected he would have to change, to communicate and cooperate with you. He had never done this - been with someone like this - wishing to spend the rest of his days by your side.

And for that, Zoro would have to put you first.

"Alright" Zoro nodded, his face blushing in a bright red.

"So does that mean you don't want to break up?"

"Of course I don't want to break up" Zoro sighed, realising his mistake. He looked back down to you, softer, his eye still fluttering to meet your gaze properly. "I- I'm sorry I said that to you. I was angry and I thought if I said it you wouldn't have to. I didn't want to keep dragging this out if you wanted to end things with me"

"Why would I wish that? I love you so much, Zoro"

"I know that, Y/n, it's just I-"

Zoro stopped himself, realising the drop in your face, recognising his dismissal as something negative. Your eyes clouded with fear, brimming with a new set of tears, afraid he hadn't changed; caught in the same dismissive tone as always.

He sighed. "I love you, too"

Taking a seat next to you, Zoro flopped down, carelessly leaning towards you. There was an earthy warmth in him, leaning over you as his arm found its way around, holding you close. It was rare he was able to be so still, your chosen time for this conversation finally playing to your advantage. "Ya know I'm still gonna kill ero-cook for this, right?"

"I know" you smirked, leaning yourself against his shoulder. "I wouldn't expect less from you"

[lulublack90]

Prompt 1 - Accidental Eavesdropping

@wolfstarmicrofic May 1, word count 706

Remus curled into his favourite hiding place. Behind a tapestry, up a corridor and around a bend in a small chamber and above that chamber, there was a ledge with a window that looked out over the black lake. 

It was quiet, and few knew of its existence, so sometimes, when things were getting on top of him, he liked to come here and hide out for a few hours with a good book. 

Remus had been there only about ten minutes when he heard the sound of footsteps echoing off the corridor walls. Damn it, he thought as he shuffled closer to the window. Please go past. Please go past. He silently willed whoever it was using the shortcut. Please don’t know about the chamber. 

But the pair did, and they entered through the obscured doorway, casting silencing charms as they did in case anyone walked past when they should have been more concerned with the six-foot seventeen-year-old trying to make himself as small as possible above them. 

“The dreams are getting worse, Prongs. Last night, I dreamed we were in the shower, and it was all streamy, and then there was soap, and things started happening, and when I woke up, things had, you know, happened. James, what the fuck am I supposed to do?!” Merlin, James and Sirius had come to chat privately and there he was listening in because he was trapped on a window ledge.

“I mean, I think it's gone past simply fancying now and turned into a full-blown crush,” James said unhelpfully. Sirius groaned into his hands. 

“I need you to help me, Prongs,” Sirius pleaded. “What should I do?” Girl trouble, Remus rolled his eyes. He didn’t feel bad about hearing what they said any more. The amount of times he’d heard about Sirius's latest girl crush. He went back to his book, blocking them out. 

“Well, do you like him enough to ask him out?” James asked. Him? Sirius was interested in boys!!! Remus put his book away and crawled as close to the edge as he could without being seen.

“What if he doesn’t feel the same way, Prongs? What if he tells everyone? I don’t think I’m ready for everyone to see that side of me.” Remus could hear the panic and sadness in Sirius’s voice and wanted more than anything to wrap him in his arms and--

“He’s your best mate. He’d never do that to you. We’ve known him since we were eleven. Have you ever known him to be that cruel?” James had clapped a hand on Sirius’s back. 

“I suppose so,” Sirius snuffled. “I need to get him on his own. Test the waters and see if he feels the same way. Will you help me, James?” 

“Don’t be daft, of course, I’ll help you. Right, first things first, let's take a trip to Honeydukes.” James said brightly. 

“I don’t need to go there, James. I need to plan what to say.” 

“Right, and we can do that as we’re walking. Trust me, if you get some chocolate and give it to him. Remus will stay in the same room as you for at least five minutes, and you can make your move then.” Remus froze. Had James really just said Sirius wanted to ask him out? Sirius’s mystery crush was him. Remus wanted to fling himself out of his hiding place and launch himself at Sirius, confess he’d had the same feelings for so long. But the way Sirius had seemed so worried stopped him. He decided he’d make his way back up to the dorm room and wait there for him. 

He waited for the sound of their feet to fade away before he unfurled himself and dropped to the stone floor. He’d never rushed so quickly up to Gryffindor tower as he did just then. He washed his face, combed his hair and made sure he had his softest jumper on. 

A tap at the door alerted him to Sirius’s return. 

“Hey, Remus, I got you something,” Sirius said shyly and held up Remus’s favourite chocolate bar.

This was it. Remus took a streaming breath and waited for what he’d dreamed of for years to finally, finally begin. 

Second part

[piratefishmama]

Fake it Till you Make It | Part 13

“Buckley residence”

“Melissa, my second favourite Buckley! Hi, it’s Steve, is Robin there?”

“Oh Steve! Yes, yes one moment, I’ll just—weren’t you on holiday with your parents aaaand—?” he’d been calling Eddie his ‘partner’ for the week leading up to the big holiday. Never dropping any names, but given he’d found a sort of second home at the Buckleys… they were relentless in finding out who he was dating.

Since it’d never be Robin.

He wasn’t falling for it, no matter how deep they’d been into flower power back in the day. If he came out, Robin would end up coming out in solidarity and he knew she wasn’t ready yet so—“Yep, calling from Chicago airport, bit of a time sensitive call” he wasn’t giving it up.

“Oop, I’ll grab her—” there was a scuffle on the line then a quick “ROBIN, STEVE’S ON THE PHONE” another quick scuffle later and suddenly

“Aren’t you supposed to be on a plane right now, Dingus?”

“I’m in Chicago! Just checkin in on my baaaaaby, how’s my little bun today? Any morning sickness yet?”

“Robin!!”

“Mom get off the phone!!”

“Hahaha I’m kidding Melissa! Can I talk to Robbie alone though?”

“Unbelievable, you kids are turning me grey.”

“You’re as beautiful as ever though!” The other line clicked off, and Robin’s snickering laughter was all that remained. “One day she’s gonna stay on just to call my bluff.”

“But that is not today, again, aren’t you supposed to be on a plane? What’s up?”

“…Okay so, hypothetically, if you were fake dating someone you… I dunno… maybe, sorta… click really well with, can laugh with, and maybe sorta like a little, would you—”

“Steven Leopold Harrington do you have a crush on your boyfriend?”

“Fake, fake boyfriend, Robbie, fake. And that isn’t my middle name.”

“You’re not DENYING it! It's not even been a DAY yet, Steve!”

“No, I’m not—well… I’d call it more an interest than a crush, but that’s why I’m calling you, what would you do?”

“Pine uselessly for years, you know this.”

“Got it, pine uselessly” He could do that. He was doing that already, sort of. He’d watched in squinty eyed rage while a newsstand cashier with a nose ring flirted with his fake boyfriend while he grabbed a drink to down during the wait between flights. It didn’t go anywhere, Eddie barely even noticed, but Steve noticed. Steve noticed everything. “You really should ask Vi—”

“NO. Listen Steve, as the kids would say, you have found an ‘ultimate cheat code’ to asking your crush out, listen closely now, don’t want you to miss it… you’re already dating him!”

“It’s fake though!” Luckily his parents were off showing Eddie a cool mural they found last time they flew through. No chance of them hearing him.

“So?! Just act like it’s real! It’s like a test, you have a week to see if you’re actually growing ooey gooeys for this guy, and at the end of it, you’ll know if you wanna keep him.” Brilliant in theory but one small hiccup

“What if he doesn’t want me at the end of the week?” The fact that he hadn’t had a solid date in forever before the scheme looming over his head and heart like a dark cloud of suffering.

“I will eat my own shoe. Trust me dingus, trust me. He’ll want you, just work that mysterious Harrington Charm I’ve heard so much about. You’re already half-way there, you get to kiss him already.”

“…Okay, it’s gotta be the real stinker shoe though, you know the one.”

“The skunk one?!”

“Yep. The skunk one.”

“But we were gonna use that on—” Kevin, they were gonna hide it in Kevin’s office after he refused every holiday request Robin put in for a month after she, very politely, shot him and his advances down, why they still had it was… a mystery. They kept forgetting to get rid of it. “Fine, the skunk one. I will eat the skunk shoe, that is how confident I am that Eddie will want you, now please go and spend time with your way cooler than you boyfriend before your parents turn him into a normie.”

“Miss you already.”

“Miss you more”

“Miss you most.”

“Hang up.”

“No you han—” she hung up, and Steve couldn’t help but laugh about it knowing that undoubtedly. She’d be laughing on her end too.

The second flight was much easier to get Eddie onto. In fact, after they spent the hour between flights milling around the terminal, Eddie led him down the gangway, hand in hand, demanding he hurry up or “they’ll leave without us, my precious little harlot!!” there was no rush, they were actually first in line at the gate in front of his own parents, whom Eddie beat to the front of the queue, dragging Steve with him, still ribbing him for the mile high club thing.

He was not going to live that down any time soon.

The flight, in theory would give him a lot of time to think though. Nine hours. In seats that were too far apart. His parents in the middle of the cabin in a semi-enclosed pod-like structure comprised of two seats and a desk between them which they both shared to work on some paperwork, and he and Eddie on opposite sides of the plane.

Which sucked. Because he couldn’t hold Eddie’s hand.

He couldn’t make sure Eddie was okay, and that alone really dug into his time to think about things, because his brain was quite stuck on the fact that Eddie was alone on the other side of the cabin likely going through it as the second flight excitement could only last so long, and that just wasn’t okay.

Eddie couldn’t even do anything to pass the time, he’d packed all but one of his notebooks in his checked luggage, Steve was pretty damn sure he'd go insane if he had to just sit there with nothing to do for a whole nine hours.

So, they teamed up. From opposite sides of the cabin, because somehow Eddie just understood what Steve wanted him to do without having to be told.

It took them a joint effort all of one hour into the flight to puppy-dog eye his parents into switching seats with them.

This allowed them to pick at each other’s ‘gourmet’ meals, Eddie stealing several of his steak fries, and Steve stealing both the last bite of his steak, and two of his orange slices, it allowed Eddie to ramble on about the D&D campaign he was plotting to send the kids through when they got back, allowed Steve to subtly plant the idea into Eddie's mind that maybe... maybe he might be interested in seeing what that looked like.

Maybe they could hold the first session at his place when his parents went away again. Plenty of room! He could watch for once, instead of ribbing Dustin for it and purposefully never getting the name of the game right.

All leading to them both settling in their reclining seats, wrapped up in blankets, facing each other's smiling faces, and falling into an incredibly easy food-coma slumber for the remainder of their flight.

Both wishing the seats were just... a little closer.

Part 15

[flowerandblood]

Glass Cuts Deepest (1)

[ professor! • Aemond x student! • female ]

[ warnings: angst, mention of trauma and violence ]

[ description: A female painting student is finally able to choose the specialisation she has dreamt of - stained glass. She wants to become a student of the best specialist in this field, but he, for some reason, refuses to accept female students into his workshop. She finds out that he once slapped a female student of one of the other professors. Nevertheless, she makes an attempt to find out what happened then and to convince him to teach her. Slow burn, sexual tension, dark, agressive Aemond, great childhood traumas. ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She remembered exactly the one sunny afternoon when, still being a small child, she walked with her father into an old, gigantic Gothic church that seemed to her to be so high that it reached up to the sky.

As they stepped inside they were struck by the distinctive smell of incense, dampness and a strange, disturbing echo with each of their steps, as if reminding them that they were in the House of God.

She remembered clearly the narrow, long windows filled with figures of saints, shimmering with various colours of glass, as if they were really looking at her from the heavens themselves. The rays of the sun shone through them like the glory of God himself, and she thought then that she wanted to learn more about them.

She quickly began to draw. At first it was just her favourite cartoon characters, but as she got older she began to take an interest in art and paintings − on all her school trips she would look curiously at the works of the old masters in art galleries and then read about them at home.

When she managed to get into a painting department at a state university, it seemed like the happiest day of her life. One of the specialisations she could choose after the first year was that of stained glass, and it made her face flush all the more because she knew who taught there.

Although there were as many as three professors in the stained glass department, only one, the youngest of them, namely Professor Targaryen was so spectacularly successful internationally, to which he also owed his quick habilitation being only six years older than her.

For all she knew his talent had already been recognised during his studies and he was now carrying out gigantic commissions for new churches built by the richest archbishops.

She had seen his work in one of the churches in her town and had to admit that he was one of the best stained glass artists of their generation.

The holy figures in his works seemed light and halting, partly Baroque and partly Mannerist, their faces expressing some kind of heavenly anticipation, wonder or melancholy, the colours of the glass he chose contrasting wonderfully under the sunlight, creating a breathtaking composition.

He was a genius.

During her first year at university, she saw him fleetingly several times during a class on the basics of stained glass design, where everyone, no matter what specialisation they wanted to choose afterwards, learned how to cut glass with diamond blades, paint it and apply patina.

They were then taught by his assistant professor, Cregan Stark, and Professor Lannister's doctoral student, Meera. Both were very warm and patient – she took great joy in these lessons and stayed after hours to complete her work.

One day Cregan stood over her and seeing her painting her saint's face for the third time, this time with satisfying results, he nodded his head in approval.

"You are very hardworking and you are doing well. You should choose stained glass as a speciality." He said softly. She blushed all over and hopped up in her chair, happy.

"I am so pleased to hear that. I would love to study in your workshop under Professor Targaryen." She said quickly with excitement in her voice, and he raised his eyebrows and laughed. She blinked, confused.

"Forget about it, I advise you well. You're a good girl and you don't deserve what would happen to you there." He said, scratching his chin, looking at her apologetically, as if he resented himself for getting her hopes up. She felt a tightness in her throat not understanding what he was implying.

"What do you mean, sir?" She asked uncertainly and he sighed heavily.

"Ask your fellow students."

His words kept her awake and made her feel very uncomfortable – she had heard that Professor Lannister sometimes liked to flirt with his female students.

Was Professor Targaryen the same way?

Or worse?

Reflecting on this, she realised as she walked past the room where his students worked that she had never seen any women.

She asked this out loud the next day to her female colleagues, who looked at her surprised.

"Didn't you hear about that incident two years ago? He slapped one female student in the face during class. And she wasn't even his student! It landed him on the rug with the rector himself and he almost didn't get fired from the university. He owes his position only to his achievements and that thanks to him our university keeps getting new assignments from the curia." Said Ellyn, and she swallowed loudly, shocked by her words.

"Is it known why he did it?" She asked uncertainly. Lysa shrugged her shoulders.

"Apparently it enraged the rector the most. He didn't explain why he did it, he just said that she deserved it and that no whore – he probably meant woman – would cross the threshold of his workshop. He has one artificial eye and a huge scar, maybe because no woman wants him he behaves this way."

She lowered her gaze, heartbroken, feeling the cold sweat on the back of her neck, her heart pounding like mad.

What kind of man was this?

Now she wasn't surprised why Cregan had told her to let it go.

However, the closer she got to choosing a speciality and a workshop, the more she felt the need to fight for what she wanted.

Maybe if she stayed away from him and just worked hard he would give her a break?

Maybe he was annoyed by the way the girls dressed or behaved?

She decided to give it a try.

Despite everyone warning her not to do so, she submitted the papers, writing his name as her supervisor, whose workshop she applied to.

She had a feeling that it would lead to some kind of earthquake, but in the field of stained glass she wanted to be like him.

She thought through how she would dress – she decided that since she didn't like women, she would try to look as neutral and bland as possible.

She put on a large black hoodie from under which neither her breasts nor her buttocks were visible, tight black trousers and trainers. She tied her hair up in an elaborate braid to keep it out of her face, applied only foundation and no other make-up.

Dressed like this, she came to the first meeting of the new semester, where students found out what classes they had and met their lecturers.

She entered the room full of men and complete silence fell; she saw that the professor wasn't there yet, so she sat down with her notepad and pen at the very end of the table to just disappear. One of the boys with dark, curly hair turned to her.

"You're brave, but I already feel sorry for you. He'll kick you the fuck out of here." He said amused, several of the other boys laughed nervously.

She lowered her gaze, horrified, beginning to regret doing this instead of going to another professor who would have welcomed her applications with open arms.

When the door suddenly opened she curled into herself, not looking in that direction, resting her chin on her hand, swallowing loudly. She heard the sound of a chair being pushed back and someone sighing, then the rustling of pages.

"I'll start by reading out the list and welcoming the new students." She heard a cold, indifferent, stern voice that sent shivers through her, felt her breath get stuck in her throat with fear.

"Allan Baratheon."

"Mark Arryn."

"Royce Hightower."

"Matthias Martell."

"Well. I welcome you and will get straight to the task ahead of you this term." He said calmly, putting down the sheet of paper – she felt the stares of all the students on her.

He hadn't read her out.

She was sure she was on the list.

She pressed her lips together lifting her gaze to the boy who had spoken to her earlier – he just raised his eyebrows with a shrug of his shoulders in an I told you so gesture.

For a moment she wondered what she should do, feeling tears of helplessness under her eyelids – still not looking at him she raised her trembling hand slowly upwards. She heard him fall silent for a moment, but then he continued as if nothing had happened.

"− I have decided to hold a competition for the best design for three window quarters with a representation of the Virgin Mary surrounded by saints. The design will be chosen by me and the bishop, who will pay for the whole order, and then the whole workshop will work together to make this chosen design. Cregan will send you by e-mail the dimensions of each window and which specific saints are to be depicted. That's all."

He said and simply stood up, taking his papers and coffee and left, not paying any attention to her or her hand. Her classmates looked at her in shock.

"Oh fuck, that was horrible. He completely pounced on you. I'm so sorry." Her year mate said, patting her on the back, and she burst into tears, hiding her face in her hands.

"Don't cry. This is not about you. Go to Lannister and don't spoil your nerves." Said one of the older students and everyone slowly began to leave the room.

She looked blankly at her notebook and decided that she would try one last time.

She would try to talk to him.

She left and approached the locked room where a placard with his name on it was posted. She heard two voices coming from it, in one she recognised Cregan.

"− she's not like that, Aemond. Really. She focuses on her work, she's diligent. Three times I made her start the same face over and she did it without saying a word. She is humble and learns quickly. It's a shame to give her up to waste to Jason or Floris −" She heard Stark's voice and felt warm in her heart at the thought of him trying to defend her. For a moment he was answered by silence.

"No. There are always problems with them sooner or later. She was almost crying by now. I don't want any weepy scenes in my workshop. I −"

He didn't finish because of the loud knock on their door. She heard someone stand up inside, then the door opened and she saw Cregan standing in front of her. He shook his head quickly letting her know that this was a very bad idea, but she had already made up her mind.

She wanted to look him in the face before she gave up completely.

"Please, find five minutes for me, Professor." She directed her words to him rather than Cregan.

He sighed heavily, stepping back and it was only then that she noticed a fair-haired man with his short hair pulled back in black turtleneck, looking at her as if he had never seen a more disgusting thing on earth.

His artificial eye was cold and lifeless, his nostrils moving restlessly, his jaw clenched tight – she thought he looked more like a sculpture rather than a human being.

He seemed empty to her, created from stone rather than flesh.

He was silent for a long time and then rolled his eyes, sighing heavily and hummed under his breath, pulling out his phone, turning on the stopwatch.

"Five minutes." He said lowly, and Cregan quickly walked out, leaving them alone, closing the door behind him. She wanted to come closer, but his voice stopped her.

"Don't come up, just stand there and talk. You're running out of time." He burst out coolly, still facing her in profile, tapping his fingers impatiently on his armrest. She swallowed loudly, feeling her throat dry up, and opened her mouth to tell him all that she was holding inside.

"I know what rules you have set in your workshop and I wish very much now that I had been born a man, but unfortunately I am not." She said with difficulty hearing her voice tremble. She glanced at him and saw that he was still listening to her, so she continued.

"I saw your artworks while I was still in high school at St. John's Cathedral, and having always dreamed of creating stained glass for churches, I wanted to be taught by someone who is such an accomplished specialist in the field as you are, sir. I know how difficult the job is and I promise to do what you tell me to do without a shadow of dissatisfaction. I will not approach you except to revise my designs or projects. I will always work at the furthest table and sit in the last seat as far away from you as possible, dressing in such a way that you do not notice me and forget my existence on a daily basis. Please." She whispered the last word weakly – she saw his adam's apple waving as he swallowed loudly, tense.

He remained silent.

"Just because you're a fan of my works doesn't make you a talented person. What good is it to me that you work in silence if none of your pieces will be at least satisfactory and your colleagues will have to correct your mistakes?" He asked dryly, lifting his stern gaze to her – she swallowed loudly, feeling small, feeling like a nobody.

She did not bring her designs with her.

"Well. All I have with myself now are quick sketches in my notebook. They're portraits of people I see travelling on the bus to my classes." She said quickly and he sighed heavily, frustrated, and ran his hand over his face.

"So you are unprepared." He summarised, and she furrowed her brow, shaking her head.

"None of my colleagues had to −" She began, but he threw her a sharp, annoyed look and she realised at once that she had to back off, had to humble herself.

"− I − yes, I'm unprepared. I'm very sorry." She mumbled, fiddling with her notebook in her hands, her lips tightening.

He turned his head away from her, but extended his hand towards her in a movement full of impatience. She approached him uncertainly, handing him her sketchbook without touching his skin. He sighed and began to look quickly through what was inside without interest.

She saw that he had stopped at a few drawings, depicting a young woman with a child on her lap, an old man wearing a large black cap and winter scarf, and a stooped man asleep leaning his temple against the glass.

She saw him massaging his forehead and closing his eyes, clearly fighting with himself internally. He closed her notebook and waved it in his hand.

"Three of your fifteen sketches I would consider good. Do you think that's enough?" He asked dryly, without even looking at her. She felt a squeeze in her heart and a wave of disappointment knowing what he meant to say.

"No. It's not enough."

He hummed under his breath agreeing with her opinion, and then with a light flick of his hand, he tossed her notebook into the bin that stood by his desk. He glanced at her reaction and she gasped.

He wanted her to cry, to run out hurt and humiliated, to leave him alone.

No.

"So I'll do 200 sketches, 40 of which will be good. Or 300 of which 60 will be good. I will do as many of them as you see fit, Professor." She said with an effort, trying with all her might not to cry again.

He looked at her coldly in silence, the bell on his phone ringing out like something final. She felt cold sweat on the back of her neck as he reached over and muted his app, turning his profile back to her again.

"400 sketches. And they're all supposed to be good. Without them, don't even show yourself to me. Anything else?" He asked, and she shook her head.

"No. Thank you for the chance, Professor." She muttered and just walked out, closing the door behind her, feeling her whole body tremble.

He wasn't a man, but a walking monster breathing fire.

Cregan walked up to her, looking at her in horror, clearly seeing how pale she was.

"Did he agree?" He asked in a whisper, as if he was afraid he would hear them.

"He told me to bring him 400 good sketches and not to show my face to him without it." She mumbled apprehensively, wondering how long it would take her and how she would decide which were good and which were not. Stark looked at her in disbelief.

"I know it's no consolation, but you've just achieved the impossible." He said with some kind of admiration, and she sidestepped him, not knowing if she could call it that herself.

When she got home she started searching the gossip portals in the hope of finding out something about the incident from a few years ago, guessing that it must have been a big scandal and she was not disappointed.

Admittedly, she couldn't find his statement anywhere, and the student he slapped gave a wide-ranging explanation.

Professor Targaryen showed an unhealthy interest in me from the beginning and was also unpleasant and disrespectful. When we were left alone and I went to him to ask him to proofread my work, as my professor was on sick leave at the time and I wanted to move on with my job, he rose with anger and slapped me on the cheek shouting that I had no right to enter his workshop and invade his privacy. I believe this stems from his complexes and fear of women, and I regret that no justice reached him for this. Unfortunately, in this university everyone cleans each other's hands.

She read this, and she decided that she needed to be wary of him and keep her distance, not to approach him or frustrate him.

She spent the next week from morning to night sketching, sitting in the park and looking at people passing by, but she wasn't satisfied with her results.

She recalled her sketches he had stopped at and wondered what they had in common. She thought that as well as a study of the body there was a kind of melancholy and lightness in them, a snapshot of some fragment of life and situation.

She decided to go to church.

She made sketches of figures from the paintings in prayerful exultation, sculptures facing the heavens with outstretched hands, close-ups of their faces.

She thought he meant a character study like Leonardo da Vinci did, who caught facial expressions and gestures on the fly, making the viewer of his drawings go through a thrill of excitement.

She went round all the temples in her city and ended up with 500 sketches, from which she selected the agreed 400. She decided for her own satisfaction to bring him 401 drawings, which she managed to pack into two big folders.

She did not find him in his office so she set off towards his workshop where his senior students and her year mates were gathered. However, she didn't cross its threshold but knocked on the doorframe, eager to get his attention, to get permission to cross that magic line.

He was just leaning over another student's projects and glanced at her with a sharp, disgruntled look, clearly hoping he would never see her again. She lifted up her folders showing that she had brought what he wanted – he sighed heavily and moved towards her, avoiding her by a wide margin.

"Follow me." He said dryly, so she went straight after him. They entered a room with illuminated tables on which glass was usually cut and painted.

"Lay them out here. Show me the top 40." He said impatiently, and she swallowed loudly, wondering what she should show him. Her hesitation frustrated him.

"Can't you judge which of your works are suitable to be shown to me?" He growled and she shook her head, quickly searching for the works that were most memorable to her.

The woman turning to her over her shoulder with an enigmatic smile, the angel looking up to the heavens with his lips parted, the distraught Mother of God looking at her suffering son, Mary Magdalene humbly bent over in prayer, the nun covering her face with her hand, leaning over in thought.

She put down sheet after sheet, counting in her head, but then she lost track, stood up, trying to count them all over again, her heart pounding like mad.

"That's enough." He commanded coolly and walked over to the table, this time looking at each of her works in turn.

She stood at a great distance from him, not daring to come close, his face thoughtful, sharp and tense, his brow furrowed.

She was afraid he was about to humiliate her again, start crumpling up sheet after sheet and throwing them in the dustbin. He picked up a few, however, taking a closer look at them.

"Is that a figure from the church of St Michael the Archangel?" He asked indifferently, and she nodded quickly. He hummed under his breath and added nothing, putting the piece of paper down, watching further, his hands entwined at his back.

It seemed to her that his silence lasted for ages.

"A month. For a trial. If you disappoint me, I'll kick you out." He said low and unenthusiastic, turned and walked out, simply leaving her.

She squeezed her eyes shut, hiding her face in her hands, and burst into sobs.

She had made it.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess

[specialagentlokitty]

Sherlock x reader - my favourite person

Hello lovely writer, could you do a prompt 67 for Sherlock and fem reader, obviously has age gap but she's cute and he's obsessed with her. Like she's the sun in his day. - Anon💜

67: “Hey! Get back here!” “Catch me if you can you old man/woman!” “Stop running!”

Sherlock had been ignoring you all day simply because you didn’t want to go on a case with him.

He was pouting was the easiest way to put it. Pouting because you made him go on his case alone.

He was acting childish, but you couldn’t really say much because what you were doing right now just about levelled out Sherlock’s am Hmmmm petty behaviour.

“Give me my coat!”

“No!”

You ran under his arms as he tried to grab you and stood by the open flat door with a grin on your face as you flicked your eyes towards it.

Sherlock saw this and raised a hand, pointing his finger at you.

“Don’t even think about it, I know what you’re going to do and don’t do it.”

You slowly pulled his jacket on and he narrowed his eyes at you and you grinned at him.

“Why’re you doing this?” Sherlock asked.

“Because you’re being petty and ignoring me.”

“You’re being petty right now!” He huffed.

You shrugged a little.

“I know.”

You spun around and jumped down the stairs, rushing down them as fast as you could as Sherlock ran after you.

“Hey! Get back here!”

Running out the front door, you jumped down the step and barrelled out into the street, turning around to grin at Sherlock.

“Catch me if you can you old man!”

You took off down the shockingly quiet street, and you could hear him running after you.

“Stop running!”

“Never!”

You knew Sherlock was soon going to catch up to you, he was taller and had the advantage of longer legs.

But you had the advantage of being small, so when he got a bit too close you spun around and ran past him making him stop.

“This is childish (Y/N)!”

“I don’t care!”

You stood in front of him and crossed your arms, well, crossed them the best you could with baggy coat sleeves getting in the way.

Sherlock walked over and stood in front of you, placing a hand on your shoulder so you couldn’t run away from him this time

“Is this all because I wasn’t talking to you?”

“You know what it’s for.” You huffed.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, pressing his lips against your forehead.

“I wasn’t ignore you idiot, I was waiting for you to finish what you were doing and to come and sit with me.”

“Really?”

Sherlock nodded his head and you beamed, taking his hand you laced your fingers with his.

“Can I have my coat back now?”

“No, I like it. It’s warm.”

“Why do you think I’m asking for it?”

You grinned and started to walk back in the direction you had run from and Sherlock looked down at you dragging him along.

Usually he didn’t do things like this, hold hands, kiss your head in public, but sometimes it just felt like the right thing to to.

You stopped walking and looked in a shop window, admiring the display and Sherlock looked at it.

He couldn’t really see the appeal, but it made you smile so he stood there waiting for you to finishing looking at it.

“I wanna look inside!”

You let go of Sherlocks hand and made your way inside and he was right behind you, trailing with his hands in his pockets as he looked around uninterested.

Instead he just kept his gaze focused on you, the only interesting thing in this boring shop

[liaswills]

Pick a card: Does your crush like you back?

Today we are asking 4 seperate energies what they think of you! It's important to know that any pick a card's are general energies and some messages are resonant to your crush and others might just be for other people. Generally this is my first pick a card on Tumblr but I've been in the tarot community for longer than today, since 2017 I read tarot.

Disclaimer: I haven't used any tarot cards for this reading, ironically. I'm channelling the messages instead.

Take a moment, I understand crushes on anyone can be mind whirling and obsessive at times. But well I'm here to feed your obsession, aren't I? I will take the opportunity to channel their messages so every reply is written in the voice of your crush (general) and I'll give all four groups some extra information too!

Pick one of these four sentences from my favourite tommy shelby quotes!

1. "Why not?" — Thomas Shelby

2. "Do I look like a man who wants a simple life?" — Thomas Shelby

3. “We used to come here; she’d wait for hours for me when I couldn’t make it. And I’d wait for her if her family kept her in.” — Thomas Shelby

4. “A man needs to prove he is better than me, rather than show me his birth certificate.” — Thomas Shelby

All readings are channelled letters from your crush s/o. Hope you enjoy these and follow my account for more tarot posts!

Pile 1: "Why not?"

First of all this is a person that thinks softly of you. They have kind eyes, might be more of an effeminate person. May have a beard, or look like a gentle giant. I'm also getting blonde/brown hair or shoulder length blonde hair. They have dazzling eyes.

My darling,

I have never called you that before. But why not, eh? Or maybe I do enjoy calling you that in my mind. You are like a fond thought my mind wanders to when I am sitting in the train or my car. Or when I walk or am riding my bike. I think of you softly. I'm secretly afraid, that whilst I think of you softly, you don't think of me that way. I might just be a hopeless fool thinking you'd be interested in myself. Or perhaps I am not a fool?

I kind of want to do fun things together. Take it slow. There are some people I think of. Some other people that might be interesting to me as well. I know you didn't expect to hear that but I'm sometimes too stuck in my daydreams that I wished I was anyone's person. I just want to think of love. I like to imagine my closest friends think me an idiot everytime I say I met someone because how could they not? I sort of just 'love' being in love, right there, in my head.

Telling you how I feel makes me question whether it's worth it. Should I take that step to ask you how you're doing? To ask you whether you'd like to walk with me? Get an icecream? I don't know how to date to be honest. I read often, I just thought that thinking of you in my mind would be easier than thinking of you and I actually going someplace to do fun things together.

I specically like your legs, your smile, your hair. I think you look like my dream person. I may not smile in person, or I may not say these things in person, or I may not even let you know how HOT I think you are but you really are my type. I just don't know whether you'd think of me as 'your' type.

Sometimes I fantasize too much. I think it all out. Us, together, marriage, maybe even normal things like grocery shopping together or finding out what kind of candy you eat or don't eat. I kind of want to know how you live your life. I really admire how you come off to me as a person and I just think that we could 'be' something. If only my mind wasn't so easy to wander to other scenario's and people and friends who could possibly become my person too.

If you like me, just tell me. Right now. I beg of you. It would make my day. It would be recipocrated, I already have chosen you in my heart but I can't keep my mind collected. I can't stop thinking about work or about how busy I actually am when in truth, I just want to get to know you better.

Don't be sad. I don't want you to be sad. Was I an asshole? I never meant to be one. Trust me.

Do you trust me?

Yours Forever,

Your hopeless romantic

Pile 2: "Do I look like a man who wants a simple life?"

This is someone who has dark features. Might have brown hair. They come off as someone who has dazzling green/hazel or brown eyes. They are HANDSOME. You think of them in a handsome light. Their dress style might enchant you daily. Everytime you receive pictures of them or see them you might just think highly of their aesthetic. They're giving stronger masculine vibes or someone who has a dominant personality.

Babes,

Look I never meant to fall for you. I think my guides never saw 'me' falling for you. But I did. I was thrown into this abyss of feelings that I had long forgotten or long thought I could not feel anymore. I keep being disappointed in life but you have never disappointed me. I like that. I like that about you.

You and I talk or we don't. It's like that. I know it is. Because I keep you far away from me when I need time to make a decision. When I need to fix my shit. When I need to fix my issues. I have many of them. I don't need an angel like you to come into that mess. I don't want you to see a mess or see me as a mess. I need you to understand that I'm getting better. Really, I am. I thought I told you that, before, didn't I?

My life can never be just us. It's everything. It's mostly my family, my job, my friends. It's everything. I am always at the center of it and sometimes that makes me anxious. My friends drag me into shit you may not like. I might hurt your ideas about me when I do stuff like that, or I might be repugnant but it's just who I am, all right?

I can't be with someone who will hold me back. I am not saying you do this, but I hope that you will understand I don't really know how to be in a relationship that isn't going to end in destruction so I will put this lightly: don't give me the steer. I need you to say what you need to say and be as expressive as possible to keep me there with you. Maybe I like you, maybe I don't, I don't even know this myself.

See my guides want me to stop questioning my life. They want me to stop being such a fuck, maybe I do too. When I talk to you or when I think of you, I think of what of a redemption arc that would be for me? I know that sounds weird, but I think of how I could do 'right' by you.

So, technically, no, I don't want you to crush on me because I would not deserve you. But I also want you to be with me because I want to have you. Does that make me an asshole? I suppose it does.

Look, I know how to get you on your knees. I know how to kiss you, I'm experienced, I know. I know where to push your button, what to flirt, what to say, I do this naturally. It's like god gave me one gift and it's flirting without actually intending to flirt.

I get in a lot of trouble for that.

Like you for instance. You're my trouble. You're my death. You are the one person I can't get off my mind and it bothers me because I can't come forward to you and give you this sorry excuse of a person that I am right now. I really can't. Will you forgive me for not saying anything? If you ask me about my feelings, my love, I will most likely just ignore it or just be rude. I know, I can't have you.

You do NOT deserve me. I'm so sorry. I don't want you to want me, yet I do. Yet I thrive on it. Yet I am so sick that I would get off on it. I want you to want me, it's a game, alright? It's a game. I thrive on the thrill. I thrive on chasing. I thrive on flirting. This is a mad world and you're making it worse.

If you'd give me a chance, if by some miracle you'd be able to tame the fucktard that I am, would you be able to put up with my non-commital energy? Would you? See, you don't want this. I know you do.

My guides don't want this for you.

I'm sorry,

Your idiot.

Pile 3: “We used to come here; she’d wait for hours for me when I couldn’t make it. And I’d wait for her if her family kept her in.”

Your person is very feminine. I see someone who is shy, gives off introverted vibes or might just be a person who doesn't express what's going on with them all the time. They have a hard time texting others first, they might wait on texts instead. I feel like they are someone who thinks fondly of you.

Mr/Mrs *insert your name*,

I didn't know it could feel like this. Ha, who would've thought that, ME of all people would like you like some childish crush, though, the child in me still dreams of my shining knight. Are you that person? My shining hero, you might think I read too much fantasy novels or that I'm too obsessed with that one band, haha, I know, I am. I may talk too much about my one interest because It's all I think of. It's where I want to be, want to dream of, it's where my mind wanders and what keeps me occupied. I know you're not like that, or maybe you are, but you don't show it that easily.

I do like you. There, I said it. I want to be polite. I want to court you properly, when I do gather the courage to actually do that. I feel like somehow you might be the one person for me. Therefore, I find you irresistable. Because of that connection between us. We might already be friends, or well, we hang around one another, but I think you and I could be something more.

It had to be you. It just had to be you. That's what Barbra Streisand sings in the song "It had to be you" with Michael Bublé. I am on a cloud. Because I dream too much, I might seem like I am zoning out at times. That's what you do to me. You make me zone out and dream of many things. Sometimes my mind wanders back to those idols though, haha, or my favourite celebrities or games or book characters. But it mostly is you.

I would like to tell you how you inspire me. I am not an artistic person, but if I was, I would draw you. I would paint you. I would want to paint your soul. Does that sound too weird? Probably. See, when I think of you, I think of how you would be the most perfect thing to be laying beside me. To be holding hands with as we walk through an autumn world forest, to get a hot drink with in the cold winter, to meet up with for lunch or dinner. I think of you kindly, admiring and I hope you don't think I'm coming off too strongly on you because yes, I recipocrate this crush you have on me.

Even if you're not sure if you crush on me, I would not mind. Technically, I'm yours. I want to be yours. I might not be too responsible sometimes, I might not take the lead in things but I promise you that I can do that if you allowed me the time to adjust to you, to being around you, and not just you in my head.

I could ramble on and on about you in my head. I don't have many friends and the people I talk to I do mention you. Sometimes when I see something that reminds me of you, like something I see in a store window and I am like, you would like that shit, I'm almost tempted to buy it as a gift. I like gift giving. But I am bad with receiving it. I would really like if we could give each other book or song recommendations, maybe exchange poems. I secretly would give you a poem that explains my feelings for you, not going to lie about that.

Yeah, that's what it is. I sometimes feel like I have no appetite. I don't want to eat when I think of you. I can't get my head straight some days. And then I just focus only on stories. Books. My interests. I would like to get to know your interests too. Sometimes I worry that I am not good enough for you. Or that you would not want me. It keeps me silent. Truly.

It's stupid, I know. I might not come from a good background. My family life was not something that brought me joy and that kept me in my books and my internal world. Or it was my school but I hope that you might want to be my family.

Or is that too much? I'll convince you of how great that would be. :)

Yours truly,

*insert their name*

Pile 4: “A man needs to prove he is better than me, rather than show me his birth certificate.”

This is a soft masculine energy. He comes off hard on the outside. I am getting a definite 'he' but it could also be someone that is considered a butch energy, has macho energy or a person with very masculine energy. Technically it doesn't matter but this person has a message for you and it's coming. :) They're a bit mysterious.

My Destiny.

You feel like my destiny. You know I am a religious person, I think a certain way about life that might be philosophical, it might be faith, it just is my faith. I want you to know that when you're not around, I think of you as special. The song, I am a Creep, by radiohead, you like that one don't you?

Why do I have the feeling that you're after the bad guy. That you're after someone who looks dangerous, could be dangerous and that I would be that person for you. Why do you give me those eyes? That stare? That smirk? You're playing coy but I know that you fantasize about me like I am some devil in the sheets.

I really am not. *Snort*. Truly, you'll think of me less than that. Sometimes I worry that you think of me in a way where you're making this up. About me, information just gets distorted or you make something up in your mind that doesn't truly fit my personality. I would say that I don't mind you doing this, I think it's kind off cute. I think you're cute.

Some days, I wonder what you're doing. Only some days. Like those moments when it's night, you're sitting on the couch or in the tub and I am contemplating what to do now that my phone died (I might just be addicted to my phone) and I think of you in those moments of disconnect. I can watch the moon or I can look up at the nightsky and wonder if you're my person.

I like witches. Eh, did I say that? Yep. You're like a witch to me. Not in a bad way, more like in the way that "I know my girlfirend is a witch" vibe. You are mysterious to me. Something about you that I can't pinpoint my finger on. Something mysterious. It draws me in, but at the same time I don't want to be drawn in by you.

It's a push and pull with my feelings of my heart and my body and my mind. It's like this, I don't think you fit in my ordinairy life. You should do something with someone that fits your life. We might just be dating other people or you might feel unavailable emotionally to me, which is something I can't help but only you can, truly.

Still... I do think of you softly. In the quiet moments. My mind lingers on you. You're my favourite happy place where my thoughts can wander to. My favourite thing to relax, I don't know maybe your body is too. You know how I would love to relax with you, sweaty, together and being intimate in a way that makes you blush if I would ever talk about it nonchalantly in public day light.

I'd like to take you to a restaurant. You'd like that, huh? I know, I am smug when I think I know something about you but truly, i'm just a clueless fool wanting your attention when all but nothing you're just this goddess that could ruin me if you tried.

You don't even have to try, truly. I'm already broken, that's my secret.

I don't fear breaking my heart. So, if you do want to chase this? Chase me, darling.

I am ready.

But, let me say one more thing before I end this message. That dress, those trousers, that favourite clothing item you own, the one that looks comfortable, but isn't? Ehm, yeah, I have thought about you in that exact piece and eh- shamefully have fantasies about you wearing that fucking thing. Sorry, I get carried away when it's you, I really do.

You didn't expect this, did you? I know you think me the person you'd think is your type but you might need to re-arrange your expectations about me. I will disappoint you, I know that I will, I can't do nothing right in my life, why would I do right by you?

I sound like I hate myself. Perhaps I do.

Will you love me then, honey?

You know who I am.

Thankyou for reading this pick a card! I hope the message resonates and that you're able to enjoy this little crush reveal or did not enjoy this crush disappointment. The energies were very different and some messages aren't entirely the same but take whatever resonates, not what doesn't, if your gut feeling says those words weren't from your crush or s/o then they're not.

All the love, elias.

[vaguesxrrow]

Platonic monty x witch reader where the reader would frequently visit esther with witchy duties and would always bring crow monty trinkets so when human monty came around he just starts fanboying seeing reader but they're confused about it so he just tries to act cool talking ab hearing good things about them from his "ghost friend" thank u <3

(p.s this was actually a dream I had and I think it's cute😭😭😭)

I AM SOOO SORRY THIS TOOK OVER A MONTH LIKE ACTUALLY 😭😭😭🙏

monty & witch!reader

a/n: yayy cheers for my first monty fic

wc: 1408

tags: gender neutral reader, witch reader, platonic monty & reader

"hi, esther!" you called as you opened the door to her house, lugging behind you a rucksack filled with... well, the contents of your bag were probably best left unsaid. "hi, monty!" you said as you caught sight of the crow in his cage. "oh, it's been so long. missed you, buddy."

you usually came around to esther's twice a month for your witchy duties. 'duties' meaning exchanging ingredients, and the occasional (frequent) gossip of other witches in the magic community. really, though, your favourite part of your visits were visiting monty.

the crow chirped at you in greeting. you grinned, retrieving from your pocket two trinkets. first, you handed him the necklace, which you had found when you were doing some spring cleaning. the gem on it was almost black, but blue enough that you thought it would pop against monty's feathers. and you were right - as you handed it to him, he deftly swung it up as if to put it on, but wasn't quite successful and instead it landed on his head. you laughed, unlocking the door of the cage to adjust it for him. he cawed and puffed up his chest, clearly pleased with the new gift.

next, you handed him a shiny pebble. this, you only just found on your journey here. you had parked at the beach, intending to collect some green seaglass for a spell, when you found a rock gleaming so brightly it could have been a crystal. it held no magical properties as far as you were concerned, but you knew monty had to have it.

monty took that, too, setting it down on a cushion in the corner of his enclosure. then, he flew out the open door to perch on your shoulder, nipping your hair affectionately.

"are you planning on stealing my monty, [name]?" esther teased, appearing from the kitchen.

"you know what? maybe i will," you mused as you stroked monty's feathers.

esther barked out a laugh that was equal parts disbelieving and threatening. "sure, honey. now let's talk business."

you left the place two elemental teeth and three vials of blood richer, and with a promise to visit again soon.

⌦ --

'soon' ended up being a whole month and a half later, having missed your second visit last month. you had an extra bounce in your step as you strolled up to esther's front porch, yet still taking care not to jostle your bag full of potions in glass jars.

before you could open the door, it swung open, revealing a boy who seemed to be about your age.

your first thought was, did esther have children?

after ruling out the first question with a no way in hell, your second thought was, did esther kidnap a teenager?

"uh.. hi," you said awkwardly. "is esther home?"

"not at the moment! she went to the store, but we were expecting you, so she shouldn't be much longer," he told you. "but, uh, come in, please!"

he held the door open for you as you walked inside. you set your bag down on the table. "how'd you end up living with esther?" you questioned. you weren't judging (mostly), just surprised that esther would ever live with another human, especially a teenager. she seemed to barely tolerate you. "and what's your name?"

"well, esther calls me 'handsome' most of the time." he rolled his eyes. "really annoying habit, but i let her do it, cause you know her!"

nice evasion, you thought to yourself, noting that mystery boy had deigned to actually answer any of your questions. he was getting more interesting by the second.

you sat down on a stool at the kitchen table. "well, nice to meet you. i'm-"

"[name]!" he blurted. "i know."

you paused in surprise. "and how do you know that, exactly?"

he froze for a millisecond, before launching into another long-winded explanation. "well, you're actually pretty famous, in case you didn't know! i heard about you from this, uh, cool ghost friend of mine. yeah, they're like, super cool, and if they think you're cool then you must be, like, even cooler."

you gave him a once-over, still confused. he noticed you staring and self-consciously tugged at a chain around his neck, tucking the necklace into his shirt. weird.

before you could interrogate him more, the front door audibly swung open, creaking on its hinges. esther's voice sing-songed from the entrance as she complained about the cashier at the supermarket, vaguely plottint his demise.

"where are you, m- oh!" she paused as she caught sight of you. "[name]!" her tone was cheerful, but you weren't sure if she was exactly happy to see you. then again, you never were.

"hi, esther," you greeted back. "just came to drop off the potions." you gave your bag a jostle, and the glass jars inside clinked against each other noisily.

she half-grinned, half-grimaced at you. "thank you, dear. you can be on your way now." she waved you away, undoubtedly using her magic, as you felt an invisible force tug you towards the front door.

"uh, my bag-" you began.

"i'll return it!" mystery boy piped up. "um, meet me at the park tomorrow at noon? we can be friends!"

"sure!" you called, having to raise your voice as your body moves further and further away. "um, see you then!"

it wasn't until you arrived at the sole motel in port townsend that you realised you'd never gotten the name of your to-be friend.

⌦ --

you met mystery boy on the bench at the park, as you had arranged yesterday. you were determined to get his name this time; if you were going to be friends, then you couldn't call him mystery boy forever. he already knew your name after all.

"[name]!"

you turned around to find him approaching, two paper coffee cups in his hands, along with your bag, as promised. smiling, you waved at him.

"hi. wow," he said. he handed you back your bag, and one of the cups. "this is for you. i wasn't sure what kind of coffee you like, so i just chose the special, cause y'know, from what i heard from my ghost friend, you seem like the kind of laid back person who can just do whatever, which i admire."

amused, and slightly puzzled, you chuckled. "thank you?" you took a sip of the drink he offered, nodding in approval to let him know it was good. "i didn't think i had that high of a reputation. i mean, you seem to know a lot about me, but i don't even know your name."

he fiddled with the chain around his neck again, drawing your attention to the piece of jewelry. today, it wasn't concealed under his shirt. you squinted. it was a metal chain, with a gem that was a dark sapphire blue. you could recognise it anywhere.

"is that... the necklace i gave esther's crow?" you blurted.

he froze.

your eyes widened. "wait..." you scanned him, and the more you scrutinised his features the more oddly familiar they looked. "monty?"

"uhh, about that..."

"oh my god." you stood up in shock. "did esther turn you into a crow? i didn't think she'd do something like that, transforming humans.. if she's been keeping you with her all this time-"

"what? no!" he shook his head. "she recently turned me human."

your rant ended abruptly. "oh."

you were a bit confused about that, too. how? when? why? but you supposed you might as well enjoy it for what it was: finally being able to talk to your favourite crow-boy.

"but thanks for looking out for me." he - monty (monty!) smiled.

"it's no problem," you responded, slightly embarrassed at your outburst. "i mean, you're my friend. so like, any time." you really were touched. being a witch didn't give much time for socialising, and even within the magic community, relationships were often kept professional. talking to monty, even when he couldn't respond, was nice for you.

"we're friends?" he asked, eyes sparkling hopefully.

"yeah, duh," you said. "i didn't give you all those trinkets for nothing. i'm glad to see you kept some of them, though." you motioned to the necklace.

"of course i did. guess i'm kind of wired to like shiny things. ex-crow and all."

"makes sense." you shrugged. "how'd you end up becoming human, anyway?"

he huffed, grinning. "oh, boy, it's a long story…”

[stevesbipanic]

@steddiemas Day 26: Fake Dating

Steve was ready for Hawkins to open up again and for the Upside Down to swallow him whole. Christmas was meant to be fun, well at least it was supposed to be fun now that he spent it with the Buckley's. Right now though he was glaring at his boyfriend and best friend across the table. Or wait not his boyfriend this evening, no tonight, Eddie was Robin's boyfriend.

Steve could only blame himself he supposed, one for loving the two idiots that were currently badly suppressing giggles and two because it was all because of what he'd said last week.

One week earlier...

"Robin, just tell your mom you're a lesbian or I'm not coming to Christmas lunch next week."

"Steve I can't do that do you want to ruin Christmas!?"

"She was already fine with me being bisexual she's not going to send you to hell, that's why we tested her with me in the first place!"

"No, I'm not ready!"

"Well I can't sit through another Christmas of your mom suggesting a Spring wedding!"

"You're my boy space friend can't we just let her live in a fantasy world where she marries into the Harrington's?"

"I don't even want to be one!"

"Could pop down to the courthouse and become a Munson, baby," Eddie supplied watching the back and forth while blatantly stealing from the candy display.

Steve gave him a deadpan look, "You need to propose to me better than that, Eds. No, Robin that's it I'm not going, I'm not being your boyfriend anymore!"

"What am I meant to do then, she'll be asking about you all day!"

"I'll do it!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Do what?" The other two asked giving him a questioning look.

"No, stop I hate when you do that twin thing it's creepy. And I'll be your boyfriend for Christmas, Birdie."

Which brought Steve to now. It had seemed like a brilliant idea, one Steve could enjoy his Christmas lunch peacefully being the golden boy of the table as Mrs Buckley dawned over him and two, no boyfriend questions. There was also the added bonus that lesbianism might seem like a better option than the town's drug dealer in the Buckley's minds. What Steve hadn't counted on, was the Buckley's loving Eddie.

"Oh, you're in a band that's so lovely, you know I played tamborine for a band back when I was your age, we thought we were going to be a big girl group."

"I hear you're working over at Thatcher's son, they're good men there you're certainly going to learn a lot."

Steve had been relegated to peeling the potatoes while Eddie was literally putting his feet up in the living room. He felt like the middle child of a family that just got a newborn baby, how dare Eddie steal his pseudo parents. What was worse was that Robin was finding this hilarious.

"Oh poor Stevie Wevie are you sad mom's not asking about how EMT school is going?"

"Yes! I had such a fun fake heart attack story she was gonna love." Steve pouted and for a moment he thought about stomping his foot in protest.

"Hey, it's ok, next year I promise I'll have told them, and Edward over there can come as your boyfriend, ok?" Robin reassured wrapping an arm around him.

Steve guessed that he could give up being the favourite this time, and it was nice seeing people be kind to Eddie, it hadn't been easy after Spring Break. It didn't stop him shooting daggers whenever Eddie and Robin decided to reassure Steve at lunch that he'd find someone nice eventually.

Steve and Eddie waved goodbye after lunch, promising to visit soon and hopped into the van.

"Have fun?"

"Oh yeah, I think Janice is already planning the Spring wedding."

"Well, I hope you enjoyed getting fawned over because we've got dinner with Wayne now, and guess who's his favourite?"

"Just because you know the difference between the Chiefs and the Packers, I'm his own blood and the minute you're there it's like I'm chopped liver!" Eddie exclaimed as they drove towards the trailer park.

Lunch had been interesting but he was very glad it was over as he laughed and slid his fingers between Eddie's between them, happy that he had his boyfriend back.

Ao3