#and then made it a bit neon and bright to give it some personality

[simplysolo]

zuko for the lovely @atlabeth

[trashmouth-richie]

𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞 — eddie x fem reader (7.1k)

summary: 2011– your roommate drags you to a frat party and ditches the second she sees the guy she’s been fucking. left by yourself, you meet someone by accident, someone who isn’t in the fraternity 

warnings: smut, underage drinking, p in v, unprotected sex, grinding, dancing, eddie is trying to be cocky but he’s just awkward and silly

notes: i had a blast deep diving back into my hs and college days to reminisce with this. i hope if you were growing up during this time you can giggle along with me. love youuu oooh! also i hid some easter eggs in here (they’re not hidden at all)

The basement was steamy, and not in a ‘oh it’s a little warm in here but more like, every single person is drunk off their ass and the walls are sweating’kind of way.

College was everything you’d hoped it to be and more.

Your roommate, Kenzie was the type of girl who had an ‘open closet’ policy letting you wear her clothes almost more than your own. You weren’t too keen on sharing a dorm room with a girl you’ve never met before, but thankfully—you had gotten lucky. 

You had heard the horror stories from your older sister about her terrible roommate freshman year and you worried for most of the summer that you’d strike the same type of fortune. It wasn’t until you got a friend request on Facebook and a cheery little message : 

[Kenzie Walmen 2:07 PM: heyyyy roomie (;] 

that you knew you had nothing to worry about. 

She was from the west coast in sunny California, that bright western sky seeped deep into her personality. Kenz was sun kissed and bright haired, pretty ocean dipped eyes to give her the All-American type of aesthetic that most girls wished for. And maybe it was her laid back disposition, or her thrill for living it up and every hour of the day— that landed you here tonight at Delta Kappa Sigma. 

It wasn’t your scene.

You weren’t shy or new to getting drunk, you had even been so brave to take the occasional hit from a homemade bong in your neighbors dorm a few times, but the frat parties were known for their out of control Project X style of getting shitfaced. 

And something about guys with too much testosterone and too much Adidas cologne made your skin crawl and not in a good way. 

“Prints always look weird on me,” you grumble into the mirror eyeing your curves in a leopard lace tank top and black skirt, “is it too much?” 

Kenzie adjusts her off-the-shoulder top, adding a bit of shimmer powder to her exposed shoulder, “absolutely not, if anything it’s not enough.” Neon feathers decorate her bouncy curled hair as she eyes you in the mirror, “add that silver chunky necklace, and you’ll look bomb.” 

She was right, the necklace really pulled the entire look together, and if it were Halloween weekend you could even pass as a Spice Girl or maybe Snookie. 

“Sooo, is Steve gonna be there tonight?” You ask elongating the vowels in the aforementioned name, followed by some kissy faces and porn worthy moans. 

Kenzie rolls her eyes, a dusting of pink warming her cheeks, “yeah… about that. He said he has a “surprise” for me when I get there, so if I disappear, I’m just with him, okay?” 

“Wait wait wait—” you protest, holding a death grip clutch on a bottle of UV blue. “We aren’t even at the party yet and you’re already planning on ditching me?” 

— 

And that’s what got you here, a little more than drunk, holding a piss warm Green apple flavored Four Loko to your mouth, leaning against the corner basement wall in hopes to maybe disappear, wishing you were anywhere but in this cesspool of basement. 

The “DJ” (a frat guy wearing neon glasses with bars across them, scrolling through an ipod and a playlist more than likely named ‘Get Crunk’) was playing Kid Cudi, again. Everyone was screaming along to the chorus like he personally wrote it for them and their experience at college. A headache was brewing behind your eyes as the beat thumped loudly into your chest and radiated to your temples. 

Kenzie left almost immediately upon arriving. Swooped up and tossed over the broad shoulder of Steve the minute he answered the door. You laughed and shook your head, imagining how she was probably face down in navy cum stained sheets by now. 

The hours she spent on her hair and makeup went to waste, only being seen by the dead catalog eyes of Playboy’s finest from their pinned positions on the walls of Steve’s shared bedroom. 

Another sip from the overly carbonated beverage has you shuddering, the fiery ripple of fruit flavored [vomit] alcohol scouring through you like lava, causing your face to screw into a disgusted look.

How can people drink this shit? 

Your bladder screams at you to break the seal, demanding to find relief, immediately. The black lights were zero help in disguising if there were any doors that might lead into a bathroom. Pushing from the wall and taking the last hot sip from your drink, you navigate your way to the stairs. 

A table holding lone solo cups in formation from a forgotten beer pong game is now the proud owner of your empty can.

Weaving through the jungle of fist pumping douchelords and tipsy sorority girls making out for risqué facebook pics labeled [*~Freshman Y3ar!~*] you finally emerge from the sweaty pits of fraternity hell and climb the beer stained steps to the main floor. 

The monotonous beat from the music thumped a little less loudly up here, as if the noise was absorbed by the maroon colored carpeting and the oak cabinets in the foyer. 

The house was dated, decorated with a clash of orangey dark wood mixed with emeralds, dark reds and gold. As if this house was based out of Tuscany instead of midwest nowhere— complete with the rubbery fake fruit and vines that stood solely to collect dust. 

You had never been here before and didn’t know where in the hell to start looking to find the bathroom, and like Alice, you figured you might as well try every door knob in this type of Wonderland. 

The first door you peeked into looked like it was a formal dining room, but instead sat a television on the great oval table blasting obnoxiously loud as a pornstar moaned ripples of “pleasure” through her pink pout. Above her was an extremely tanned guy rocking a set of hard abs, thrusting in a slow rhythm that didn’t match her orgasm. 

A snicker slips from your lips and you gently pull the door closed with a small click, loud whoops and whistling from what you could only assume were a couple of frat guys erupt behind the door.

Watching porn together. 

You’ll have to add that to your growing list of things you didn’t know about the brotherhood behind a fraternity. 

The second door looked more hopeful as it was adjacent to the kitchen area. Upon nearly peeing down your leg, you were shocked stupid when you yanked the door open to find a closet housed with cleaning supplies. 

What the fuck? 

How could a frat house not have a bathroom? 

Your bladder squeezed in on itself and you were certain you couldn’t hold it any longer. Just short of giving up on this quest of relief and going back to your dorm, a gaggle of girls run down the steps leading to the top floor, where you could only assume the bedrooms were. 

“…why are frat bathrooms always so fucking dirty?!” 

Bingo.

Hustling up the never ending carpeted stairs, your bladder was on the brink of exploding as you shoved past a wooden door with a paper sign that read, “no jerking off in the shower!! pipes are clogged!” 

Your sandals clapped along the sea foam tiles floors as you slipped into one of the many metal stall doors. With a swift hike of your skirt up to your middle and pull of your panties, you were finally able to pee. 

A choir of angels sang the HallelujahHallelejuah chorus as you went and you sighed in relief that you had made it. 

“..yeah yeah, okay asshole,” a loud voice sounded from just outside the bathroom door frame, “you still owe me from last time,” the voice now echoed as it hit against the tiles and cement block walls, “no, payment is cold hard cash buddy, I don’t care if you have to dip into your trust fund.”  

A pair of black docs stomp into the tiled bathroom, nearing the stall you were in. There's no way he’ll come to this stall. 

“Tell daddy that you need more money for polos or Jordan’s— I really don’t give a fuck, but you need to pay the fuck up.” 

But as fate would have it…and in your hurry to get to the toilet before pissing all over yourself… and forgetting to lock the door in your haste… the stall door swings wide open— revealing a very bottomless you, to a pair of very wide dark, deer-in-the-headlight eyes. 

A beat that feels like an eternity passes, his hand is choked against his belt in a yank to unthread it, his phone wedged between his shoulder and ear. Your hands fly to cover yourself the best you can, panties still at your ankles, skirt still around your midsection. 

It’s all yells and screams with this random guy stumbling over himself dropping his phone on the ground and spewing, “Shit! Sorry! Sorry!” and you yelling for him to shut the fucking door already. 

His apologies don’t stop as he pulls the door closed, and from the other side of it as you pull up your underwear and adjust your skirt. 

“I swear! I didn’t think anyone was in there! I promise!” 

Your face burns in embarrassment as you contemplate melting into the floor and becoming one with the poorly aimed piss stains and the dirty grout. As good as that sounds you still have to leave, you still have to pass the guy who just saw your bare vag and you still have to navigate your way out of here. 

His phone lays face down on the floor, and you pray it isn’t broken for his sake. You pick it up, flipping it over to see that it scathed by with just a fine crack from one corner to another. His screen saver is a picture of a group of guys in a skatepark in the dark, smoke billowing thickly to cover their faces as they stand on the boards, the one with dark longer hair is shirtless, and painted with tattoos. 

“Shit,” you breathe quietly, “your phone is cracked.” 

You can see the shadows of his feet pacing back and forth but when you speak they stop, “oh..,” he mumbles, clearing his throat a bit, “umm, yeah, no biggie it was broke like that already.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah— hey, if you wanna slide that under the door I can um, let you ..ahem.. finish up in there.” 

Shit. Duh he needed his phone, and you were just holding it hostage in here as your shame hung thickly in the air. God this might really couldn’t get any fucking worse.

A deep breath in through your nose, you fake a mask of confidence and open the stall door. 

You hadn’t gotten a good look at him when he barged in on you, but now in the fluorescent dust covered light you dared to look a little longer at him. 

Long locks of honeyed brown locks fell onto the tops of his shoulders, covered with a green plaid flannel that hung open showing his neck and a flick of dark lines from a tattoo hidden under a black band tank top. His eyes were just as brown, round and flocked with a grove of thick lashes. Clearly he was the shirtless one in his background picture. 

He smiled sheepishly, pulling his jaw taunt as he averted his gaze to the toe of his boots, noticing your hand stretched out before him to give him back his phone, he glanced at your face, skimming his hand over your palm.

“Thanks— uh…” he started, shifting his weight to lean back against the many rows of sinks, “sorry again, I promise I don’t normally walk in on ladies using the facilities.” 

His eyes met yours and you instantly felt a heat run to your throat, his lips were impossibly plump as he drew them into a tight smirk. 

Fuck are those dimples? Of course they were. God he’s so pretty. 

You smile, “normal people lock the stall, but I was in a hurry… well I was lost!” you exclaim in a huff, fully hands on hips annoyed, “why the fuck would the bathroom be on the top floor?” 

You asked him incredulously like he should know. But on second thought…

“uhh… I dunno,” he shrugs, sliding his phone into the front pocket of his light wash colored jeans, not even looking at the broken screen as he leaned back again, “I’m not exactly an architect.”  

“But you live here?” you question, turning on the sink to wet your hands, “haven’t they ever thought of putting even a half bath on the main floor?” 

He rumbles out a laugh that makes your cheeks tingle, your buzz still in full force, “nah, you got it all wrong, I’m not a member of the ‘fraternity brotherhood of Alpha Mega Steroid’”, he jokes with air quotes, smiling wide when your lips tick up at the ends. “But I am a frequent guest, of sorts…”

This guy seemed to be one of those people who can make a nun blush, witty and dripping with a sexual charm that radiated from him like a ray of fucking sunshine. And fuck that grin of his. You’re in trouble. 

“Ahh, okay,” you banter back easily, shaking your hands to dry them since there were no paper towels in sight, “which one is your boyfriend? Let’s see I know.. Kyle? I think is his name, reddish hair, kinda feminine hands, or are you fucking Steve because I gotta say, I think my roommate might be giving you a run for your money right now.” 

Eddie’s eyes light up, a quirk in his brow as he asks, “Blonde girl? Kinda naive, head over heels for that mop of perfectly styled hair? Shit, what’s her name…Kelly? Kitten? She’s your roommate?” 

Of course he would know her, Kenzie knows everyone, and seems to leave a kind of impression on people that you envied. As bright as she shined, you were the shadow behind her. 

“Yeah,” you say, not hiding your annoyance, remembering how you got into this predicament in the first place. 

Eddie looks just as pissed as you’re feeling, “Oh, Stevie boy and I will be having words later on his lack of tact. They’re the reason why I was out wondering the halls like a fuckin’ ghost in a haunted mansion.” 

He takes note that you’re in the same boat he’s in but in your case, it’s a little worse, being a girl alone in a frat house never ends well. 

“I’m Eddie, uhh…designated dealer,” he says in almost a whisper, “for the deep pocketed asshoels full of daddy’s money.”

You connect a few dots, realization hitting hard in your frontal lobe from conversations you’ve kind of listened to from Kenzie about Steve. 

“Ahh, okay… now that you mention it, Kenz has talked about you before. You’re Steve’s old friend, Munson? I thought she meant like a forty year old or something.”

He laughs, loud and belly rolling like, “nah, minus a twenty from that. Steve and I are just close friends ‘s all… and no, not boyfriends.” 

You laugh then, all bubbly and light hearted that has his own skipping beats. Saying your name, he repeats it, a little grin on his face that he tries to hide, “mm that’s cute.” 

“Cute?” you question, an eyebrow raised as you fold your arms in on themselves, poking a hip out. 

“Yeah… cute,” he says standing fully and peering down at you, “your name is very fitting for you.” 

You roll your eyes playfully at his flirty words. Even though your stomach is somersaulting at the way his eyes seem to drip from heaven when he looks at you, your cheeks heating beneath his gaze.

“Is this the part where we exchange our hometowns and majors, because I’d rather get run over than do that right now.” 

Eddie chuckles, “oh yeah, well I’m actually here on an athletic scholarship.” 

“Really?” you question, eyebrows cocked in disbelief. 

“Yes!” Eddie jokes back, trying to bite back a smile, “if you must know it’s for Tennis, but please don't bother me for an autograph. I'm just trying to be a normal guy tonight.” 

“Noted.” You giggle, admiring the way this banter is coming so easily, maybe it was the liquid courage taking over or the fact that he was actually fun to talk to— either way, this night is starting to take a turn for the better.

“So, what does a Tennis star/designated rich boy drug dealer usually do at these kinds of things besides bursting in on girls using the bathroom?” 

He smiles, dipping his chin and looking at you through those impossibly thick lashes. Pushing off the sink he asks, “Sell a little here and there, sometimes dip into my own stash…what do you usually do at these things?” 

“Well,” you tease, twisting on the ball of your foot and heading towards the door out to the hallway, “I’m not usually at these things.”

“Ohh my god,” Eddie preens in his best valley girl/ Kourtney Kardashian impression, “you’ve never been to frat party!?” 

You smile, at his stupid joke, “Noo, I haven’t actually. Kenzie drug me out for a little pick me up after we bombed our History midterm, to…y’know— live it up— YOLO, all that.”

“Okay okay, letting off some steam after the stress of class, I get it...school was never a cake walk for me either.” 

“Yeah! But then your friend snatched her up, and since I don’t know anyone here… I was doing a very impressive wall flower guise, until my bladder interrupted that… and then a guy barged in on me in the bathroom.” 

Eddie stalks towards you, his eyes roving over your body, “Well… now you know me, soo Miss Lady Wallflower,” he cracks, “shall we descend to the basement and keep this party going?” 

His infectious smile stretches wide, practically ear to ear and you find yourself grinning just as wide, trying to twist your lips to at least hide your enthusiasm a little bit but goddamn— something about the way those dimples compliment the fucking christmas twinkle in his eyes.. ugh. 

He was trouble. The kind you had always craved but never dabbled in. But when in Rome…

“Lead the way.”

—

Eddie had made a pit stop in the large kitchen before returning to the basement. 

“Now sweetheart,” he purred, fishing around the shelves, of a pantry, moving cans of food and bags of chips, “I didn’t plan on drinking more tonight, but I’m not gonna let you drink by your— aha!” 

Eddie stands upright, brandishing a large box of saltine crackers. Your eyebrows furrow in response and he bows low, puts his hand inside the box, “I present to you, Stevie’s not so secret hiding spot,” pulling out his hand, his fingers are wrapped around a bottle of Burnett’s Vodka.  

Your eyes widen with devilish glee as you smirk, “how did you know it’d be there?” 

Eddie unscrews the cap and puts it to his lips for a long six second pull. 

You weren’t watching the way his throat bobbed and gulped when he swallowed each burning swig. Nope, not at all. You definitely weren’t memorizing each valley of cords and muscles as a single drop fell to his sharp chin and jaw. Never, not you!

And you weren’t holding your breath right along with him only breathing when those fucking glorious thick lips popped clean from the mouth of that bottle… his lips shiny from the bitter alcohol like a gloss you desperately need to lick clean. Yeah… no. that was not you…

So it’s only fitting when he speaks hoarsely and clears his throat that you are snapped back to the moment, your core keeping its own pulse. 

“He’s been keeping vodka in the same box in a food pantry since we were in high school, guy is the most unoriginal bastard I know,” he shrugs, wiping his lips with the back of his hand, and you can’t help but almost pout in the wasted opportunity. 

His eyes meet yours and they look just as hungry as you were feeling. He smirks crookedly and you practically flatline from the depth those molasses colored eyes hold. He moved first, inching towards you like a wolf stalking its prey, your pretty chapstick smile daring him to come closer. 

But the fuse between you is snuffed out cold as a crying girl erupts from the basement steps, her gaggle of friends helping calm her down as they leave the house. 

Eddie shakes his head and clears his throat as if he was just as bothered by you as you were of him. Turning towards the fridge he asks, “I’m sure they’ve got some Sunny D you can chase this with if that’s cool?” 

—

The basement proved to be in the same situation you had left it in: hot, sweaty, sticky. 

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes hotly behind you, loud enough to hear him above the music, “it’s like a furnace down here, no wonder that girl was crying.”

You lead him to the corner you were tucked in before, your drink still sitting on the beer pong table. By the way he is standing you can tell that this really isn’t his scene either, but after a while of passing the vodka and orange juice back and forth between you, he seems to loosen up a bit. His shoulders relax as his back leans against the wall next to you. 

Eddie’s words slurring together as his stories became more and more animated, and you giggle along, never taking your eyes off of him. Completely enamored. 

Your stomach burned with a flurry of butterflies when a few of his clients came up to him to buy, each more nervous than the next. Eyeing you suspiciously, questioning if you were some sort of a narc. 

Eddie stepped ahead of you, his shoulders squared and chest out to casually announce that you were cool and were with him. 

You didn’t know that he was waiting for you to object to it, to shove away from him and call him a pig for even assuming that you’d ever be seen with the likes of him besides in the dark, but you never did. 

Hours pass and the music just gets worse. Wiz Khalifa starts singing about colors and Eddie looks at the crowd of people grinding and rolls his eyes. 

The alcohol has you feeling tingly, a buzzing of flirtation sparks your blood and you are closer to Eddie than ever, the smell of his musky cologne and laundry detergent invade you.

Like any drunk girl, you start getting antsy, a little more touchy, and a lot more feely. Standing around isn’t cutting it anymore and you want to move, toss your hair back to some cheesy song, want to feel those hands you’ve been staring at all night run along your body as your hips move against him. 

Running your forefinger along the inside seam of Eddie’s flannel shirt, you look up at him through your lashes. 

“I’m assuming you’re not one to dance to a club remix?” 

Eddie watches your finger stroke up and down, your knuckles barely grazing his abdomen, but the small touch sending electricity to his spine. 

He leans into you, following your lead and pinching the hem of your skirt between his large fingers “you’d assume correct, the music I listen to is a little more head bangy than this.” 

“So,” you say coyly, pulling him towards you just a fraction more, “what you’re really saying is that you can’t dance.” 

Eddie scoffs, throwing his head back, his throat sticky with sweat and the hair by his ears wet and curling into ringlets, “oh I can dance my ass off honey, taught Channing Tatum everything he knows.” 

His hands find your hips, and you almost lose the little bit of confidence you have gained when the warmth of them seeps through your shirt, his blunt nails skimming your skin in small strokes.

“Do these little white lies masked as dorky ass pickup lines work for you?” Your hands are on his chest now, the black light illuminating each letter of his Deftones shirt to sparkle like snow beneath your fingers. 

“I don’t know,” he whispers into your ear, pulling you tight against him so your chest is pressed into his, “you tell me.” 

The music changes and a throwback song  

comes on, one you haven’t heard in years. 

“Guess you’ll have to show me those moves, because in typical drunk girl fashion… this is my song!” 

You grab Eddie’s hand and stomp to the middle of the floor, pulling him along with you until you’re shoulder to shoulder with other drunk and sweaty college kids. 

“Get low?” Eddie asks from behind you, his mouth dangerously close to the shell of your ear as his hands land heavy on your hips, “seriously?” 

Leaning your head back so your lips could reach him you talk loud enough just so he can hear you, “stop talking and fucking dance with me already.” 

“Goddamn…” he groans when you finally push your body fully back into him. 

It’s sloppy and horribly uncoordinated the way your drunken hips move beneath his hands. You’re both swaying along with the music, trying like hell to match the rhythm of everyone else around you. But in the tiny square footage you have in this cluster fuck of a space, Eddie has all the right moves. 

His palms are pressing you tighter into him, making sure you can feel just how hard he is, how hard you are making him. 

Courage and a few prom night dances under your belt have you dropping low and coming up slow, your skirt fanning out the tiniest bit as your knees are bent to the ground.

And Eddie is practically thanking God himself when you run the fattest part of your ass up his body, on the bunched denim by his shins, skimming the barely there fabric of your skirt against the hole in his knee, and finally up where he desperately needs your body the most. 

When you come back up he moves your hair from the side of your neck, his lips puckering around your earlobe as he nibbles lightly, “spin around so I can see you.” 

He groans again when you shake your head and laugh at his dismay, as much as he is turned on and bothered you are too, but the power of keeping him like this, teasing him with your body— turned you on even more. 

You snake your hands upwards seductively, landing daintily at the nape of his neck, twirling the wet tendrils of curls round and round pulling gently. Eddie hisses through his teeth, his hands roaming freely from your hips to your ribcage running them along the length of your sides, bruisingly hard. 

One minute you’re facing away from him, eyes closed in pleasure as he roves over your body, his lips pressed to your neck, and in the next he’s spinning you around so that you’re face to face— eyes locked on eachother, the heat and the alcohol and the endorphins are too much to handle. 

Your once labored breathing snuffs out to nothing when he leans in with licked lips his eyes fixated on your mouth. Standing. Staring. Staring and standing. You’ve had enough of this cat and mouse game. 

“Fucking kiss me alrea—”

His mouth with its plush pillow lips slam into you. He tastes like tart orange juice and a bite of alcohol. Like the way a summer day would taste if it were bottled up. He licks into your mouth and you whine for more of him, clutching onto his neck and pulling him further into you. 

When you break for air it’s loud, smacking lips and lapping tongues, tilting your heads to line up perfectly. When you twist yours again, Eddie holds onto your neck angling it just so with a glint of trouble in those whiskey eyes as he dives into the supple skin at the column of your throat. 

Sucking, swirling— his tongue is hot against you and you’re clutching onto his shoulders, your nails digging into the pilling fabric like he was the only thing keeping you Earthbound. 

You wiggle in his arms, squealing and whining out but he’s holding you tightly against him, moaning words into your neck that you can’t hear above the music. Then he’s on your mouth again, working you into a fit. His big veiny hands move along your back, grabbing your ass softly, then work up to wrap in your hair or lightly scratch at the inch of skin between your skirt and your tank top. 

Doing your own little damage to him, his shirt is shoved up over his chest, your fingernails trailing down his tattooed skin. A rise of goosebumps following in their tracks, and he stops kissing you to suck in a breath, your smile on his lips as you laugh and he whispers a breathy ‘fuuuuck’. 

Your fingers trail down to his waist band, tickling his skin as you suggest an idea with your eyes, one that you’re certain he would understand.

“C’mon,” he mouths, gesturing his chin to the exit as he slowly begins to pull you from the dance floor, up the stairs and into the kitchen area.

Eddie knew what he wanted. Knew it the second you walked out of that stall with that sweet fucking smile on your lips, shy and coy when he called your name cute, like you weren’t at all used to the type of attention he was giving.

And maybe you didn’t want this with him. Maybe you were a: ‘fuck-me-in-the-dark-so-I-won’t-be-embarrassed-by-being-seen-with-you’ type of girl, but you did dance with him, you laughed at his stupid jokes, stuck by him almost all night, but still he needed to be sure. 

He thought maybe in the brighter light you’d change your mind about what you wanted, what you needed from him, but you surprise him when you cling to his side, going up the steps, and backing into a wall pulling him with you by his shirt needily when you reach the top.

“D’ you uh..wanna get outta here?” he slurs, almost sleepily, his bangs fucked up beyond belief, his hair drenched and sticky with sweat and humidity, lips swollen red.

“My dorm isn’t far,” you say, looking up at him through your lashes running your finger along the waist of his jeans, “across campus.” 

Eddie chuckles, “fuck…” he sweeps a thumb over your pouted lips, groaning as he bites his own. “I’d crawl to fuckin’ Alaska for these, honey.” 

Your cheeks burn sweetly from his inebriated compliments. And even though you’re tipsy and so is he, you feel an odd sort of comfort with him—one you haven’t experienced before. 

“Let’s go then,” you whisper into his ear, “I want you inside me.” 

That did it for him. 

Eddie was all but running with you across the campus green, but not before taking off his long sleeved shirt and placing it over your shoulders murmuring how it was freezing and you’d probably get sick. 

Your combined laughter ricocheted off concrete forums and neatly trimmed grass. Passing by the fancy Chemistry Lab building, the Art Museum, the Med School and finally to your painted black brick dorm building: “Wheeler Hall” 

“Here’s home,” you sing out, placing your key into the door and pulling on the steel handle. 

The Wheeler Dorms were the newest addition to the college town. Named after a family that was killed in an accident back in the 80’s or something… you didn’t really remember what happened. 

The side door you had come in through was closest to your room, 011, on the first floor, again, the universe being kind to you. 

“Never been here before,” Eddie said looking around with wide eyes, “any of the dorms actually.” 

You smiled upon unlocking your room and entering, hanging up your keys on the command strip hooks by the door. Whatever confidence he had back at the party is now deflated a bit once he realizes just how different the two of you are. What the hell was he doing here? You’re in college, he’s only here because he deals. 

“Uhh..?” he questions, eyeing the lofted bed, “you know I was joking about being an athlete, right?” 

You giggle and toss your purse onto the futon, “relax, that’s Kenzie’s bed, mine is the shorter one.” 

“Oh thank fuck,” he practically sings letting out an over exaggerated sigh as he plops down on your futon, eyeing the leopard throw blanket, “I may look like a suave Casanova but I’m about as agile as Mr. Bean.” 

Laughter fills the room and you click on a lamp throwing the room into a cozy ambience as you slip off your sandals and sit on your bed, leaning forward, “you’re way hotter than him.” 

Eddie blushes a bubble gum pink sheen, using his still damp and unruly hair to cover his face, “keep being sweet on me see where it gets you.” 

“Is that supposed to be a threat, or a promise?”

“Oh baby, I don’t make threats, not to a girl that’s like you.” 

“Like me?” 

“Yeah you,” he deadpans, standing up and waltzing towards your bed, crowding you in, “funny, sexy, and by some greater power— digs me… at least I hope.” 

“I’m not the type of girl to bring a guy back to my place, Eddie,” you nearly whisper, putting a finger into his dangling necklace and pulling him forward, “you’d be the first.” 

Eddie places his hands next you on the bed, “like your first? Or just here in college first, I’m cool with either I just— are you sure you want this? I can leave if y—”

Cutting him off you kiss him, but not like the heavy kisses earlier when you two were making out like you were each other's oxygen masks, this one is sweet, like melted  sugar on Eddie’s tongue. 

“You talk too much,” you say with a warm smile, wrapping a finger around his curled ends of hair, “no more of that, just kiss me.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

Eddie wraps his arm around your waist and shifts you up further into the bed, laying your head on a pillow his body pressed into yours. He takes his time with you, kissing your lips then your jaw, working his way down your neck to where the bruises he’s already sucked into your skin were painted. 

Your moans and little breathy sighs have him hard against his zipper, his hips bucking into the tiny fabric of your panties that’s covering up that sweet pussy he got a glimpse of earlier. 

His shirt is somewhere on the floor, you had pried it off of him between locked lips and groans of having to move your lips from his that earned you a throaty laugh from him and the sexiest eyes that drove into you with an intense ferocity. 

He lowers further down your body, kissing every inch, moving your tank top out of the way to eye your orange bra, his mouth between your cleavage, moaning about how orange is now his favorite color. 

Eddie’s everywhere all at once, a hand traveling up and down your thigh, from the crux of your knee to the waistband of your skirt, the other hand is popping your tits out from that new found favorite colored bra of his —smiling wickedly at your peaked nipples. 

You moan lustful bliss as his tongue circles each one, giving equal attention to both, “you like that?” he asks.

“Feels so good,” you whine, “more, please.” 

Eddie smirks with your nipple between his teeth, “don’t have to ask me twice.” 

You weren’t a virgin, but holy shit you felt as if you had never had sex before, well never sex like this. Eddie teased you with his fingers, his thumb rubbing your clit while his fingers pumped inside of you, each curling inward towards a place nobody has reached before. 

He groaned with his bottom lip tucked between his sharp bite rubbing his achy cock through his jeans when you pushed your skirt down laying there in a matching orange lacey thong, bedazzled on the hips. 

“Would it be corny if I say you look like a Goddess?” he asks sheepishly, pinching the stretching fabric around your hips, “because… wow.” 

You bite your finger as if you were really thinking hard on this, hiding a smile, “you’re too much, Munson.”

“Too much?” he scoffs, pulling down your panties and settling himself between your legs, “you haven’t even seen my dick yet.”

You sit up, tits out and naked from the waist down, “well by all means, show me.”

“Greedy girl,” Eddie smirks, “did you bring me here just to get me naked? I’m appalled!” 

You move to your knees, sitting upright a bit so your face is level with his. You kiss him softly, moving to his neck and sucking just right to pull those deep moans from him that make your knees shake. 

Feather light touches skate along the expanse of his chest, working down down down until you’re undoing his belt, thumbing open the button on his jeans and yanking down his zipper.  

When your hand slides between him and his boxer briefs,  Eddie hisses, watching you pump him slow and tight. The feel of your smooth palm against his velvety shaft makes him almost cum right there and then, it’s been awhile since the last time. 

But you’re not hesitating or questioning yourself and he isn’t either. It’s almost fluid like a rocking wave the way Eddie lays you down, a team effort to swiftly shove down his jeans so you can finally feel eachother where the desperation is needed most. 

Legs hiked over his hips, he lines himself up with your gummy slicked entrance. It’s a deep and achy stretch for you, a vice grip for him. The lazy gasping moans you both emit are drawn out, yours practically breathless. 

“Holy fuck,” you breath into his mouth as he peppers you with kisses. He drags his hips out at a measured pace, pushing in just as unhurriedly, enjoying the way your body adjusts, cuffing him like a glove. 

Eddie breaks away from your lips to watch your bodies join together, moaning your name as he presses his forehead on yours collecting your mouth with his. 

“Shit…This okay?” he asks earnestly, nipping at your ear. 

You nod in gasping silence, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he speeds up. Your hands are skimming down his bareback, pressing him further into you with every thrust, begging him for more. 

He snakes a hand between you, rubbing circles in your puffy clit as he thrusts harder, trying to get you there before he loses all control. “Want you to feel good sweetheart, fuck— keep making those pretty little noises, you’re squeezin’ the hell outta me.” 

And he does. You cum hard around him, your walls fluttering and pulsing so fast you practically black out from the mixed pleasure of his fingers rubbing your clit and his cock stuffed in deep. 

His name falls from your lips in tiny little whines and he bucks into you a hard and final time before he groans, holding onto your headboard for support as he’s bottoming out, stringing rope after rope of hot spend inside of you. 

“Baby,” he whispers, “God—” he stops cold, realizing what he just did and what he didn’t do. “Oh shit, fuck fuck fuck! I didn’t pull out, I'm sorry! I’m so fucking sorry!

You laugh wickedly, your body shaking beneath him at his worried panicked face. 

He’s a babbling, out-of-breath mess, “’s not funny! I just got caught up in the moment and you felt so fucking good and I’m still a little dru—”

“Eddie, it’s fine,” you say, holding his cheeks with both hands squishing them together so his lips pucker like a fish, “I’m on the pill.” 

His face is still squished together when he speaks, “oh, well… okay.” 

“You’re fine,” you coo, coaxing him down from the ledge of regret and self hatred, “I—” you lean up and kiss him square on the mouth, licking into it and sliding your tongue against his, “I liked it.” 

His eyebrows disappear into his bangs and before he can open his mouth to speak you’re pulling him onto you kissing him deep and needy. 

The two of you end the night that way, him holding you, your hands in his hair, kissing so much your lips are chapped— never getting enough. Legs entangled together like a weaved basket. You fall asleep before he does, your little huffed breathing making his skin damp as you curl further into his chest. 

Wonder if Verizon is open tomorrow? He thinks when he remembers that his phone is definitely broke from it landing on the bathroom floor—but he’d never tell you that. 

He also wouldn’t tell you how he was supposed to go back to Steve’s tonight because they were leaving to see another old friend in California for the weekend— or how they needed to be at the airport by 2 AM for a 4 AM flight.  — or that Eddie was Steve’s ride because he lost his license in July. 

Nope.

He wouldn’t tell you any of it. None of that seemed to matter when you were sleeping so cute on his chest like that. 

When late morning comes you’re at it again, this time you’re riding him on the futon, slow like a twangy country song his hands rocking your hips. When you both finish you drag him to the showers, pumping some expensive shampoo into his hair and giggling when you tell him to be quiet so you won’t get caught. 

Steve called Eddie’s phone all night, and all morning, sending duplicate texts of rage, wondering where the fuck he had gone. 

Eddie silences the last call from Steve as you’re getting dressed, wearing a black pair of yoga pants and a zip up hoodie. He smiles when you offer to comb his hair, grabbing your wrist to pull you onto his lap kissing behind your ear. 

His voice is low, soothingly sweet and minty from your toothpaste as he asks, “can I take you to breakfast?” 

[heartfullofleeches]

While the psychological mindfuxking Host puts Darling through in order to wear them down into being his co-host is honestly one of the most fun things to write, I live for Darlings who were never appreciated in their own time and suck up all the praise he gives them for their talents.

Crafty Reader who also dabbles in a bit of inter decorating winds up on Host's show and their immediate first thought is "Damn, bitch- You host a game show on this stage?"

It's cute- but a little outdated. Where's the passion? The irritatingly bright neon signs that burn their eyes from a mere glance. Potted plants??? Anything??

Normally Host isn't one to tolerate guests that interrupt his opening speech, but as Darling goes off on their tangent Host is left stumped - stupefied, damn near mesmerized by that fire in their eyes. He can't say they aren't wrong either- Props come and go as Host wishes, but the stage is a bit lacking without them. Not contestants don't stick around long enough to point it out, but with his newest and top pick for co-host right in front of him perhaps it's time for a few changes.

"Congratulations! You won today's show Give our fans a big smile and wave goodbye to our losers."

"I won?...but you didn't even ask me any questions."

"Oh, you- If answering questions was the only way to win here no one would."

Darling is whisked away by stage hands into a bedroom- The room is deprived of any furniture beyond a bed, a large chest propped against the farthest wall, and a table upon which an old sewing machine sits. It looks a bit like the one they had back home, but the label is made up of jumbled letters and symbols. How are they supposed to use the darn thing without any supplies anyway?

Darling inspects the chest and finds.... pretty much everything tucked away in their small bedroom, their real bedroom that they use for their projects. No construction paper, though.....

Oh. There's some.

Darling quickly discovers that whatever they require appears in the chest whenever they're vocal with their requests. On occasion, the chest acts without their say and pulls the thought from their mind before they're able to speak. It isn't long before the empty space is fully stylized to their personality and presences. Darling thinks they did a great job. The teddy bear on their bed believes so too.

.....When did that get there?

Darling may have won his show, but Host is the real winner when he see what Darling has done to his stage. Host are extended by another hour....or year with how long he brags to guests about Darling's craftsmanship. Time is a tricky thing to keep track of when the watches you wear flop between ticking backwards or at a snails pace.

"Thoughts on those name plates? Our brilliant co-host made them for you all- Are you lucky? I of course have my own, but- Oh, come now. I know this is top quality work, but there's no need to scream. Give our co-host a hand for all their hard work....Or lose both."

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Catch of the Eye | Azriel x Hippy!Reader

Summary: After you moved into Velaris, your bright demeanor and clothing seemed to demand Azriel’s attention, as well as the rumors of the Princess of Autumn’s disappearance.

Word Count: ~ 800

Warnings: None!

A/N: This request had me cracking up while writing it bc the idea of a hippy bamboozling az into silence is so funny to me, hope you enjoy <3

Requests are open!

Ever since Azriel had met you, since you’d moved from Autumn Court, you always managed to utterly flabbergast him in ways that shouldn’t be possible for the stoic shadowsinger.

It had all started when he’d noticed the bright, almost obnoxious clothing you always had. Some weren’t bad, like the jeans you would wear with bright floral patterns accenting them, or the flowery shirts or skirts you’d wear.

Your fashion sense was the complete opposite of his, and since you had moved to Velaris under his suggestion, he got to see your wacky outfits every day.

Sandals were a common choice, not to mention warm-toned clothes, cardigans, and knitted tops. The earrings you wore were nothing like he’d seen before, not even trying to be elegant or beautiful, just giving an extra pop of color and flare to your outfit.

It fascinated him.

He’d always seen proper noble women trying to be beautiful or elegant or alluring, but you weren’t that at all. You were just…yourself. You didn’t care about what others thought, you were a rule unto your own law. You were just so out there, sticking out like a sore thumb, but in a good way.

Your bright clothes and personality became a comforting sight for him amongst the dark color theme of Night Court, with most residents opting for black.

And your opinions?

Completely outrageous. But also funny.

Like when you rambled on about how Fae should need a license to winnow, to ensure that they weren’t endangering themselves or others if their skills weren’t good enough. Or how any winged Fae should also need licenses, for the same reason.

He will never forget the time that you told Rhysand to his face on one of your first few times meeting his family that if Velaris was already peaceful and perfect, why not expand that principle to Hewn City, too?

And when he’d tried to explain that the people of Hewn City were too stubborn and hateful for that, you’d just called his reasoning “stupid” and an “excuse” because he just wanted to live in his little paradise city and not deal with the problems of the Court.

That had frazzled Rhys.

In fact, you frazzled almost everyone in the Inner Circle. Except Cassian. He seemed to find you extremely entertaining. You’d nearly given some of them a heart attack, especially since your fiery red hair and hazel eyes oddly resembled the Princess of Autumn, who hadn’t made a public appearance in months, and some people were getting suspicious.

Once getting over the initial hurdle of them adjusting to you, Feyre invited you to her art studio, and when Azriel got there (he’d volunteered to help with some of the paints since he didn’t have any missions that week) he saw you, an absolute mess of paint, helping all the children. You were surprisingly good at it, knowing just what colors to mix for them, giving them what they needed and when, and generally working well with Feyre even if all your paintings were bright and usually neon, and hurt his eyes a bit if he looked too long.

“You’re good with them.”

He spoke to you as he walked down the street, you alongside him as you finally left her painting studio.

“I’ve handled kids before, they’re pretty fun usually.”

He raised a brow at that.

“Did you…babysit, or something?”

He asked, the mental image of you watching and caring for a child for an extended period of time not exactly a great one.

“No, I helped raise my little brother. He was always a more mellow kid, but he had a tongue on him, that was for sure. I oughta visit Luci sometime soon.”

He listened. You’d never mentioned brothers before, or any family at all, really. It didn’t help his suspicions.

“‘Luci’ is an odd name for a boy.”

He commented dryly, and you, clearly not catching onto his sarcasm, as you rarely did, only laughed.

“Boys can be named whatever, but his full name’s Lucien.”

He stopped walking at that, and you continued, oblivious to it until he jogged to catch up.

“You’re Lucien’s sister? As in Lucien Vanserra?”

He asked in a quiet but surprised tone. You only nodded, grinning at him in that lazy, relaxed manner you always had.

“Our secret!”

You declared, before prancing off to go look at the bright fabrics of your favorite salesmen in Velaris. You’d already befriended more than half of the people there, and they all seemed to like you.

Cauldron help anyone who befriended you, and definitely help the shadowsinger stuck as your mate for eternity.

[dadyscumslutprincess20]

Lost Love

(Small story I thought about doing until I write another request that I got, also be looking out I’m working on 4 request at a time then the rest at once💕)

Cha Hyun su x fem reader

Genre: Just a bit emotional

It’s been a year since you last saw Hyun su after trying his self into the military to keep the remaining survivors of Green Home safe , so we all would be able to saved and took to a shelter/camp that was meant for any survivors

Since then you lived with the regret of not telling him about the baby , both you and Hyun su moved in together in your first apartment at Green home , since you were a bit more social you made a few friends inside the building , but most of you time was spent with Hyun su

When the apocalypse started. Hyun su started to have serious noise bleeds , times where he would black out or there were even moments you felt like he want your Hyun su

After gathering with the remaining survivors you soon learned that Hyun su was a special case of the monsters that now roamed the city

After a while you found out you were pregnant, deciding it wasn’t the right time as you kept the pregnancy to yourself .. not knowing Hyun su would turn his self in the same night

Now here you were a year later with two beautiful children, a boy and a little girl , even though it’s been just a year they were already at the age of 12

Before giving birth to Cha Hee (son) and Cha Hui (girl) , you escaped from the shelter finding a small abandoned camper , the only joy out it was that it was two small rooms that had a full sized bed in both , a small kitchen and dining area that was in the middle and the driver seat that was locked right when you entered the camper

Your pregnancy was pretty easy we’re surprised you along the way , except that you felt your self changing as you started to hear a voice in your head , you belly barely as it looked like you were just bloated from a good meal or something, but you knew you were pregnant, the hardest part of the whole pregnancy was the birth , since you didn’t have any support, you ended up giving birth to the twins inside the camper in your small room , bring down on a spare dry towel you had to hold in your scrams as you gave birth to both Cha Hee and Ch Hui

After giving birth to the twins you noticed how much you’ve changed, your eyes had I slight hit of green with time making your neon eyes now look unnatural, you half grew a bit longer as you soon realized that you gave in to your desires , now becoming a monster but some how keeping it in control.. maybe it was because you had not one but two people to protect

After a few months after having Cha Hee and Cha Hui you soon realized that they weren’t exactly human either , as Cha Hee was born with bright blue eyes , Cha Hui was born with Green eyes

There was a few differences between the two as Cha Hee, he was a quite child , who could make a person go crazy after a certain amount of days soon resulting in their suicide or the death of everyone around them including them selves if you were lucky enough to stay on his good side he would use his touch to show your most happiest memories

Cha Hui was a bit different she was a cold child , always quietly analyzing others , but even though she seemed cold she was super nice once you got to know her , her touch could either set your ablaze as you scream in pain and agony or you could fall into a deep sleep that no one could wake you out of as you live out your deepest fears over and over again, but like her brother if your were no harm to her mother or Cha Hee she could show you your happiest memories ,you didn’t discover this until it happened in front of your eyes

After that you had Cha Hee and Cha Hui to keep on a special pair of gloves that were handmade by you, it made you feel a bit more safe if no one would discover there powers then any one would assume their normal kids , the only thing that would make any one realize their twins it their dark black hair that resembles Cha Hyun Su’s

As you laid in your bed as you start to realize that it’s been quite for a while now , thinking that the the twins were in bed as you stand to your feet , slowly walking out of your room and you peek into their room that was located on the right of yours

Seeing that the room was empty as you start to become slightly worried , heading for the kitchen finning area to see that they weren’t there either

‘Where are they’ the voice in stead your head says as you frantically search the camper a second time just to make sure , but when you saw they weren’t there you quickly open the doors to the camper heading down the three small steps as you head out the door looking left and right frantically as you run straight heading down the road as you call out both Cha Hee and Cha Hui’s names

Not getting a response from neither of your babies as you start to panic thinking of all the possible things that could have happened to them

What if they ran into humans? Or worse the military? , as your mind starts to cloud with questions that only made you panic more , you soon came to a hault as you heard a few giggles , looking around the area as you notice a small grader dome

Taking a small breathe in and out as you head inside the small dome , eyeing scanning around the flowers that bloomed with life , causing you to feel a bit calm but still worrying for you babies

After a while of walking down the small trail you come to a stop , as you feel your body tense up , confusion shown in your eyes

There was Cha Hee and Cha Hui.. but they weren’t alone , there stood Hyun su with a girl that seemed to be around the age of 14 as she talked to Cha Hui who had a small smile on her face , it took a while before Cha Hyun su noticed your presence , eyes locking with your as Ah-yo turned to see why Hyun su was so quite , eyes slowly following his as they land on you soon catching the attention of the twins

“MOMMY” Cha Hee screams out with joy as he runs toward you wrapping his arms around your waist with a smile

“Mom , look we made a new friend” Cha Hee says as pulls away from the hug grabbing a hold of your hand as he pulls you towards Hyun su , Ah-yi and Cha Hui as Cha Hui soon stand beside you wrapping her arms around you as she looks at Ah-hi and Hyun su

“This is Ah-yi and Hyun su” Cha Hee says as he points to both Ah-yi and Hyun su

“And this is our mom , Reader” Cha Hui says as she tightens her hold eyes still watching Ah-yi and Hyun su who eyes now look at you with pure shock

“M-Mom…” Hyun su says as his head hangs low , Ah- yi noticing the hurt in his voice , after a few seconds his head slowly rises eyes now shining blue as he gives you a cold stare

“ After everything we done for you.. to keep you safe , and you have some assholes child , correction children” Hyun su says eyes staring daggers in to yours as you feel a shiver flow down your spine

“I-It’s not like that” You reply as you look down down your feet not able to look him in the eye

“Wait..you know her” Ah-yo says as she looks between you and Hyun su in confusion

“I do actually in fact she’s our dear girlfriend, well was it seems” Hyun su says eyes now looking both at you , Cha Hee and Cha Hui

“I didn’t cheat okay.. I just..” you say looking back in to Hyun Su’s eyes tears now threading to fall

“I don’t know how to tell you and it was to late.. you let us alone” you managed to choke out as tears start to flow, Shock showing on Hyun Su’s face as he looks between Cha Hee and Cha Hui

“T-Their .. mine” Hyun su says eyes slowing turning to normal as he slowly falls to his knees , tears falsify flowing down his face as he looks at you with a sorry expression

“I-I didn’t mean to .. I-I just wanted to keep you safe..I..” before he could finish his sentence Cha Hee warped his in a warm hug as Cha Hui looks him in his teary eyes

“So .. your our father” Cha Hui says as her green eyes watches Hyu su closely as he slowly nods his head in agreement, slowly walking towards Hyun su as she slowly wraps her arms around him pulling him and Cha Hee in a hug

“I had a weird feeling .. it explains why we were okay with you keeping us company” Cha Hee says with apart smile

After a while of hugging , Hyun su informs you on Ah-yi and how he has been taking care of her since she was pretty much born , listening as Hyun su talks about Ah-yi like a proud father , which he was, he starts to feel guilty about missing his own kids growing up deciding to keep not only Ah-yo but you and both Cha Hee and Cha Hui close and safe

[tothosewholisten]

Forever Healed | TUA insert

Chapter: 01

<<previous chapter | next chapter>>

Masterlist

…

The next morning I woke up in disbelief of what I saw the previous night. I always thought Reginald’s grip on me was too tight for him to let go. I believed that he would live forever, that he would lecture me in his overpriced mansion when I failed at becoming my own person.

I didn’t know if I should feel sad or not, after all, it’s not like he would feel the same if it was me who died that man had the emotional intelligence of a zoo animal. At least that's what I tried to tell myself. But I did want to go back to my old home, just to see if this was a huge prank played on me and he would be there to finally give me what I wanted for years now.

No, this was reality and I knew that because at my front door was a letter, it was addressed from Pogo. The “man” who practically raised me instead of the parent I was supposed to have. How he knows where I live, I had no idea, but it felt good to hear from him after all this time. He told me to come back to the house for the service and I couldn’t just ignore him.

Since this was a funeral I should wear black or maybe some bright neon-colored outfit for the last F you to the big man. But after looking in my closet I realize I only own sad mundane clothes.

“Black it is..” I whisper to myself.

..

The taxi ride was silent, after telling the driver where I wanted to go I think she knew exactly who I was. I fixed my hair several times and thought about the other adopted children who also experienced hell living there. From time to time I do like to check up on how they're doing, never face to face though.

Like Allison and her latest celeb drama, or Diego still acting like a superhero only now he’s almost 30 and lives in someone else’s storage closet. I'm not sure that adult life has been kind to any of my siblings but I wish the ones who weren't here could’ve still experienced it.

We had come to a stop and I could see the house in all its glory, it gave me shivers that crawled down my spine. I stepped out of the taxi and just stared up at the tall building, If I was about to go in I needed to majorly hype myself up.

After standing there shaking, my shaky hand had finally started to open the intricate umbrella engraved glass doors. This reminded me of the first time I showed up to this place just as terrified of the unknown, but this time instead of crying on the doorstep the unknown opened the door for me. If the unknown was a small monkey man with glasses and a wooden walking stick named Pogo.

“Miss Y/n, please do come in.” Pogo expressed with a warm smile on his monkey face. “I believe you are one of the first to arrive, just right after Master Luther and Klaus. Luther is in your father's room and Klaus is in his study if you’d like to visit them.”

I wasn't paying attention to Pogo’s words, instead I was taking a look around. It took me a while to come up with the right words, it’s like I forgot how to speak. The inside of this place looked like it hadn't changed since I moved out, not one piece out of place.

“Maybe later.” I croaked out, “I'd like to take a look around for a bit.” We walked into the main lounge of the home. I forgot how much there was to see, the space was decorated very well in my opinion.

“As you wish Miss Y/n, let me know if you need anything else.” He called out as he started to walk in the opposite direction. I called back out to him in a small panic.

“Pogo wait,” I said and he turned back around to look at me.

“Yes-“ It only took me a few steps to reach him as I opened up my arms for a hug and he caught on. I embraced the smaller “man”, it felt so familiar, so comforting it almost made me feel good to be back. We stood like that for what could’ve been all my life and I wouldn't care before I pulled back thinking it was too much. “It’s so good to see you, my girl. Welcome home.” I immediately felt back at ease when he spoke those words.

Pogo was a prominent figure in my adolescence to the point where I didn't even question how a monkey could talk. I'd like to think of him as one of my saving graces for getting past the years that I could never forget.

“It feels strange to be back,” I said walking back over to the lounge area. On the wall, I could see a bunch of familiar items like our Umbrella Academy comics, some of our news articles and-

“How long has it been since Five disappeared?” A voice cut in, my eyes searched the room looking for that voice. I set my sights on a small scrawny woman with brown hair pulled into a bun.

It was Vanya, she’s changed since I last saw her but that comes with age I guess, she still shares the same mannerisms as her younger self.

“Miss Vanya! I'm glad to see you as well.” Pogo exclaimed, turning to her but then went back to the portrait of Five on the wall. Made just before he ran away but hung up after as a sign to remember him by our father. I don't think it was out of love for his son but more of a warning for us to not end up like him. “But to answer your question, it's been sixteen years, four months, and fourteen days. Your father insisted I keep track.”

I gave Vanya a little smile and she spoke again. “You wanna know something stupid? I always used to leave the lights on for him.” Pogo and I looked at her sympathetically. “I was scared that he would come back, it would be late, and the house would be dark and he wouldn't be able to find us, so he’d leave again.”

I don’t know if it was childish or hopeful for her to think he would just one day return to us and all would be forgiven but it was true that she never lost hope.

“So, every night I'd make a little snack and make sure all the lights were on.” She finished.

Pogo sighed at her words. “Oh, I remember your snacks. I'm pretty sure I stepped in half those peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches.” Yes, it was a sad memory but I think all three of us took comfort in the fact that they had these little things they did. To cope with the fact that a part of us was lost the day he left.”Your father always believed that Number Fiver was still out there somewhere. He never lost hope.” He continued.

Vanya frowned, “And look where that got him.”

..

Alison and Luther made their way to us in the lounge room along with Diego and Klaus following soon behind them, but I had already sat on a couch next to Vanya.

This was an odd event since everyone was so quiet and sticking to themselves or their drinks. And Pogo had left a few minutes ago so any conversations that he sparked no longer existed and it was back to complete silence.

I twiddled with a loose string on my cardigan, trying to shake at least some of the anxiety that brewed from the room. You’d think because we were together almost for half of our lives we would know how to ask each other how life’s been but I guess not. I'd have to talk to Alison sometime soon and also Klaus, out of everyone I've been the most excited to talk to him.

Luther stood up from one of the large couches and cleared his throat. “Uhm, I guess we should get this started. So, I figured we could have some sort of memorial service. In the courtyard at sundown.” He paused. “Say a few words, just at Dad’s favorite spot.”

“Dad had a favorite spot?” Alison questioned.

Luther replied, “You know, under the oak tree.” And I honestly doubt anyone knew or cared but him. He was always more attached to Dad anyway.

“We used to sit out there all the time. None of you ever did that?” Of course not...

Klaus chimed in walking over to the group, a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other. “Will there be refreshments? Tea? Scones? Cucumber sandwiches are always a winner.”

“What? No. And put that out. You know Dad didn't allow smoking in here.” Luther argued.

“Well he is dead so does it matter” I said while rubbing my forehead. I'm already getting a headache from Luther and it's been five seconds. He throws me a look and I just shut up. Arguing with him also reminds me of a zoo animal and it's not just his new physique..

Alison points to Klaus’s interesting new outfit and says. “Is that my skirt?” And I'm reminded of our teenage years all over again.

“What? Oh! Yeah, this. I found it in your room.” Klaus says. “It’s a little dated, I know, but it's very breathy on the bits-“

Luther cuts in with a stern voice. “Listen up. Still, some important things that we need to discuss, all right?”

“Like what?” Diego asks and finally looks up at us.

“Like the way he died.”

“And here we go..” Diego remarks.

Vanya stares at Luther confused. “I don’t understand. I thought they said it was a heart attack?”

“Yeah, according to the coroner..”

“Well, wouldn't they know” I say?

“Theoretically”

“Theoretically?” Alison raises a brow at Luther's strange words.

“I'm just saying, at the very least, something happened. The last time I talked to Dad, he sounded strange.” He adds on.

Klaus starts gurgling his alcohol and with a strange noise, he says. “Oh, quelle surprise!” Whatever that means..

“Strange how?” I try to continue.

“He sounded on edge. Told me I should be careful who to trust.”

“I don’t think that’s anything out of the ordinary, like at all.” I shrug.

Diego stands from his chair. “Luther, he was a paranoid, bitter old man who was starting to lose what was left of his marbles.”

“No. He must have known something was gonna happen.” I roll my eyes at Luther's statement. “Look, I know you don’t like to do it, but I need you to talk to Dad.” He finishes by looking at Klaus. The only one of us with those capabilities, Klaus looked panicked by his words.

“I can’t just call Dad in the afterlife and be like, Dad could you just.. stop playing tennis with Hitler for a moment and take this quick call” Klaus states exaggerating the words with hand movements.

“Since when? That’s your thing.”

“I'm not in the right.. frame of mind.”

“You’re high?” Alison turns to look at Klaus.

“Yeah!” he chuckles, still holding his drink and cigarette while sitting “Yeah! I mean how are you not listening to this nonsense?”

“Well sober up, this is important,” says Luther and Klaus groans.”Then there’s the issue of the missing monocle.”

“Who gives a shit about a stupid monocle?” Diego cuts in, which I would have to agree with.

“Exactly, it's worthless. So whoever took it, I think it was personal.” Everyone stares at Luther like he is delusional and at this point, me included. “Someone close to him. Someone with a grudge.”

“Where are you going with this? You lost me at Dad's favorite spot” I ask Luther directly.

Diego stares up at Luther and gets out of his chair to get closer to him. “Oh, isn’t it obvious, Y/n? He thinks one of us killed Dad.” I know everyone knew that was what he was saying but hearing it come from Diego’s mouth hit everyone.

“You do?” Says Klaus. “How could you think that?” Vanya added.

“Great job, Luther. Way to lead.” Diego walks out of the lounge room.

“That’s not what I'm saying,” Luther grunts.

Klaus gets up too not before saying this on his way out. “You’re crazy, man. You’re crazy. Crazy”

“I've not finished” Luther tries to tell us to sit back down.

“Sorry, I'm just gonna go murder, Mom. Be right back” I say with a smile.

“That’s not what I was saying. I didn't-“ Luther sighs as Vanya walks out too. Leaving Allison the last one in the room with a pleading Luther. “Alison. Jeez..” He says trying to call out to her. But unfortunately for him, she also walks away leaving him to mutter to himself alone. “That went well.”

..

“Hey,” I whispered to Vanya as she was sitting on the stairs deep in thought. “That was.. intense right?” Out of everyone she was the easiest to talk to, she always was there for me.

But I do have to admit I could’ve been there for her more and I'm not sure what she thinks about me after all these years. By her silence she confirmed what I thought, she hates me. After sitting for a second in the silence I wanted to run away and retreat to my room. But she raised her head and looked me in the eyes.

“Yeah it was, Luther was way off.” She says.

I could hug her right now, I'm so happy hearing her voice. I hummed in response but I couldn’t think of anything to say, we just ended up looking at each other waiting for the other to bring up our next topic. “Uhm you're still playing the violin, right? How’s that going.” I ask.

Vanya gives me an awkward smile “It's going pretty okay, I play for an orchestra near my apartment. I also give lessons to kids when I have the time.”

“That’s amazing Vanya.” I smile back. “What chair are you?” That is the extent of my orchestra knowledge, I always liked hearing her play but didn't have any knacks for instruments myself. And it's not like Dad would’ve given me any time to learn, always on to the next mission or session with him.

“Third” she frowns, “for the last couple of years now I guess.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that. I didn't want her to think that was bad because I'm sure she is trying her best so we were back to silence again. As I stare off into the distance.

But then I look up to hear a loud muffled noise, like a song? It was coming from upstairs. I wasn't going crazy because Vanya heard it too. I remember listening to this song as a teenager and my only conclusion is that this was playing from Luther's record player. The song still played as I told her who I thought was playing this, and we both started laughing before Vanya stood up and held her hand out to me and pulled me up too.

I kept laughing as she started to sway back and forth to the music, she looked so carefree so I joined her. I'm no star dancer myself but being with her made me feel like I could do anything and that's what I did. We bounced around as the chorus started, grabbing each other's hands and mouthing the lyrics.

“I think we’re alone now,” I started.

“Doesn’t seem to be anyone around” Vanya continues.

“I think we're alone now”

“The beating of our hearts is the only sound” This was an out-of-character moment for both of us but we didn't care, we were simply enjoying ourselves and I wondered if anyone else was dancing too.

The music skips as thunder cuts the song off and we stop. The whole house starts to rumble and Vanya grabs on to me as we look around at all the flying items that are coming off shelves and tables.

I was confused, nowhere did the forecast mention thunder and lighting at all and looking outside I didn't see anything, only a blue glowing ball forming in the sky near the back of the house.

Luther and Alison run from upstairs towards us and they tell us we need to go outside, where we run into Diego. He must have seen the glowing too.

..

“Oh shit“ I plug my ears, the lighting whips and thunder got louder as we reached the door. Diego was the first of us out there, and then we all followed. We were horrified at the sight ahead of us. No longer was this a blue ball but more like a large translucent blue ripple in the sky.

“What is it?” Vanya yells out.

Alison pushes Luther slightly back with her hand “Don’t get too close” she says.

“Yeah, no shit” Diego interjects.

Luther points it out. “Looks like some sort of temporal anomaly. Either that or a miniature black hole. One of the two.” For a moment I forgot that he spent all that time and space, he was more knowledgeable than us.

“Pretty big difference there, Paul Bunyan!” Diego exclaims. Hearing all of their voices I slowly realized who was missing..

“Out of the way!” Klaus yells from inside.

He starts to run up to us with something in his hand “What are you doing?!” I called out. He then runs up to the “black hole” and throws a fire extinguisher into it? I'm worried for Klaus if his response to strange situations is to throw something at it.

Alison gave him a puzzled look “What is that going to do?” She said,

“I don’t know, do you have a better idea?” He replies with exasperation. His frustration seemed to somewhat affect the glowing thing because it suddenly got bigger, and flashed strong blue light at him. Klaus lets out a shriek and runs behind me.

“Woah woah get behind me,” Luther says addressing us. Diego decides to chime in, of course, to upstage him and says that we should get behind him instead.

“I vote for running c’mon!” Klaus tries to grab my arm but I stay still, if I was scared of anything anymore I would've run but I was dying to see how this played out.

All of us just kind of stood there, some probably accepted their fate that this blob of color was gonna swallow them whole. I look down to see Alison and Luther hand and hand.

But that's not the only thing I see, because something was coming out of the light. A man? A boy? I was so confused. He lets out a terrible screech, like coming through that “portal” was ripping him apart.

All of us take a closer look at the now clearer image because whatever was in the portal dropped down onto the mud-covered floor. And the blue light disappears above him.

“Oh my god,” I said, I finally recognized what was standing right in front of me. All of us took a couple of steps closer to him.

“Does anyone else see little Number Five, or is that just me?” Klaus asked.

Five looks down at himself and for the first time in close to 17 years I hear him speak.

“Shit.”

…

Aug 14 update:

If you'd like to be added to the tag list for rest of the series (starts at chapter 10) say taglist in the comments!

[mcdonaldsnumberone]

VARIOUS AND PRECIOUS (MOMENT OF INERTIA)!

what love is to them

gender neutral reader

NAGI SEISHIRO!

when you pamper him!

It’s easy for people to dismiss Nagi as a lazy genius who does little to fend for himself, but deep down, you know that there’s more to Nagi than the sleepy boy most people dismiss. He’s someone who wants a lot of love, having fended for himself living alone for most of his life, and if there’s someone who’s willing to feed him the affection he’s been lacking so long, of course he latches on like bees to honey. All Nagi ever wants to do is to sidle up next to you while you work or fold laundry and melt into your touch when you lean over to ruffle his white hair. It doesn’t take too much to make Nagi happy, but he knows for sure that nothing beats soaking up your attention like a touch-starved teddy bear. You certainly don’t have any complaints about him hogging you, especially when you’re the one enabling him.

“Give me a kiss…,” Nagi grumbles, and the boy plops his head down in your lap and sprawls his long limbs across the length of the couch. You glance up from the book you were reading, and your attention suddenly shifts away from the words on the page to the young teenager peering up at you expectantly with drooping eyes. “It’s so hard to stay awake.”

You giggle to yourself, and you set your book down to gingerly thread your fingers into Nagi’s soft hair. “Well, if it isn’t Sleeping Beauty. You’ve worked hard today at practice, haven’t you?”

He nods slowly, and his face practically glows as he soaks up your touch. You continue to stroke at Nagi’s hair, fingertips rubbing soothing patterns into his scalp. He sighs, “Mhm. I did all the training regimes that Christ Prince set up for me, and Reo made me do some passing practice with him. So much work…”

The boy clearly expects a reward for all of his efforts, and you stifle back another giggle at how adorable your boyfriend is. For being one of the most highly coveted players from the Blue Lock program, all he ever wants to do most of the time is cuddle up next to you and let the hours pass by. Who could look at such a doe-eyed, harmless sweetheart and realize that he’s the same genius striker that singlehandedly dominates the field?

You duck down carefully, and you press your lips once, twice over each of his eyelids. The corners of Nagi’s lips twitch upwards into a warm smile, and he settles down even further into your lap, happy and comfortable using you as his personal pillow.

“Happy now, Sei?” You ask quietly, tapping the tip of his nose with your pointer finger. Nagi lets his eyes flutter shut, and he pretends to think before shrugging innocently.

“Not sure,” he murmurs cheekily. “Maybe another kiss will help me make up my mind.”

ITOSHI RIN!

when you’re there for him!

Rin believes that to make it in this cold, cruel world, he has to face everything head-on and by himself. It’s how he tended to his tender, wounded heart when his older brother abandoned their collaborative dream, and it was this exact cutthroat philosophy that secured his success within the Blue Lock program. Rin is quick to weed and cut out anyone he deems as weak or unworthy of his time, but in reality, he’s nothing more than a young teenager who craves the warmth and validation of someone he admires. He needs someone to love him unconditionally, not because he can become the greatest striker and certainly not for the results he can bring. You’re the one who’ll drop everything to comfort him when he has a bad day or the only one he feels comfortable calling when he’s lonely at night. And once you’re in his arms, his bleak and frozen world seems a little bit more warm.

The clock reads 2 in the morning in bright red neon letters, yet it’s clear from the tight grip Rin has on you that your boyfriend has no intention of letting you go. There’s a horror movie playing in the background of his room, yet neither of you are paying attention to what’s happening on the screen.

“You know,” you lightheartedly begin. You’re snuggled up comfortably in Rin’s arms on his bed, cocooned in a mountain of blankets that smell exactly like him. “It’s probably not healthy for you to stay up this late. Don’t athletes have to maintain a really strict sleep schedule?”

The boy sticks his bottom lip out into a rare pout, a vulnerable side of him that he only ever shows to you. Outside of the safety of his bedroom, Rin is best known as a fearsome striker with an ice-cold heart, not showing any forgiveness to those he deemed inferior to him. Yet despite this impenetrable persona of his, the moment he called you late at night and asked if you were busy, you immediately halted whatever you were doing and practically sprinted out the door to get to his place as quickly as humanly possible.

Rin had happily welcomed you in, and it only took one look at his wide eyes and sad lips to realize how lost and lonely this poor boy was. You were more than happy to fill up the empty voids in his life, to kiss him and hold him and remind him of how loved he is, no matter how much his own brain tells him otherwise.

“I can stay up a little bit longer,” he grumbles, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

You grin, and you lovingly smooth down his black hair. “Whatever you say, buddy. You’re just saying that because you want to spend more time with me. Don’t worry, Rin. I’m not going anywhere.”

You hope Rin memorizes that promise. He loves you so, so much. And it’s this kind of quiet, endearing affection that makes Rin fall for you all over again.

MICHAEL KAISER!

when you don’t care if he lives or dies!

Kaiser is so, so, so horribly used to getting what he wants. Fans throw themselves at his feet in awe of him, and with just one well-timed show-stopping smile, he could make anyone fall in love with him easily. As a famous superstar, Kaiser knows he could have anybody he wants by his side: celebrities, socialites, the upper echelon of people that you could only dream about. Except his issue is that he’s fallen madly in love with you, and you physically couldn't care less about the arrogant blond who’s more of a thorn in your side than he is impressive. For the first time in his life, Kaiser has to work incredibly hard to win your favor, and as much as it frustrates him, it makes him fall even harder in love with you. Kaiser is nothing if not determined, so he’ll work through all of your sharp glares and prickly insults to win your coveted heart.

“Do you enjoy annoying me that much?”

Kaiser never knew being insulted like this could make him swoon. Not ever in a million years would he dreamt that someone who held his favor could treat him so callously, and never in a million years would he have dreamt that his heart would swell and skip a beat at that treatment. There are absolutely no signs of warmth on your clearly pissed off face, yet it makes the blond’s face heat up to see you glowering at him.

“I’m not annoying you,” he coos, attempting to step closer to you. You expertly step away from him, refusing to let him come any closer to you than necessary. Kaiser’s hurt, but at the same time, it excited him endlessly. “Any normal person would be honored to be graced by my presence!”

You roll your eyes at him, and your voice is tinged with such disgust when you acknowledge him. “Consider me abnormal then. I’m not quite jumping for joy at the thought of someone like you tailing me around.”

Everyone thought he had lost his mind when he admitted that he was falling for you. Admittedly, Kaiser thought it was crazy too: why have someone as unimportant and insignificant as you when he can have anyone he wants in the world? But it’s this exact roughness that makes him weak in the knees and leaves him breathless. He wants to see more of you, to see what it would take to make you melt under his touch and desire him as much as he desires you.

“Someone like me?” He repeats playfully. He wiggles his eyebrows, and he lowers his eyelids seductively to bat his long lashes at you. How many countless sleepless nights had he spent perfecting his appearance in hopes that you’d pay attention to him! “Someone as handsome as me? As sexy as me? As perfect as me?”

You scrunch your face up as if you had eaten something sour. “No! You’re the exact opposite of that!”

The German laughs heartily, and he stares adoringly at you with the kind of persistent tenacity that leaves the two of you in this oddly flirty song-and-dance. “There’s absolutely no need to play so hard to get, darling! One day, I’ll get you to admit how much you love me!”

“In your dreams, Kaiser!”

NOEL NOA!

when you do your best for him!

Noel understands that he’s not the easiest man to love. Not only is he the current greatest striker in the world, he knows that the pressure of being by his side isn’t to be taken lightly. While he loves you and cares for you in ways that he can’t describe, he’s more than aware of the sacrifices you have to make to receive his love. So he’s more than appreciative whenever you greet him with a big smile and an even bigger hug, reassuring him that no matter what life throws your way, you’ll be fine as long as Noa is there for you. Your efforts won’t ever go unnoticed around him, and he’s always quick to remind you that his heart only belongs to you. Noa is fiercely loyal, and so long as you keep your head held high, Noa will face the world bravely with you, hand in hand.

“Another early flight?” You purse your lips as you scan over his flight itinerary. The sheer amount of numbers and fine text made your head spin, and you had to blink and shake your head to clear your vision. “It’s just one thing after another for you, Noel. Your management really needs to give you a break sometimes!”

Noa had insisted that you didn’t need to come to every game that he was in. He knew you had a life of your own, and frankly speaking, even just following him around everywhere was a taxing task in it of itself. But you wanted to support your lover on every end, and you knew that by being there, that was your way of cheering him on wholeheartedly. 

Noa takes the itinerary from you, and he sighs deeply at the horrid hours and his unforgiving schedule. “Again, if it’s too much, you don’t have to feel obligated to follow me-”

“-Don’t you dare start on that lecture again!” You cut him off, placing your hands on your hips. “I want to go with you. I want to go to every single game you’re in, and it doesn’t matter to me if you score a million goals or if you’re sitting on the bench. Being there for you is the least that I can do.”

Noa smiles warmly, and he pulls you close to him and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. His chest fills with pride at your determination to support him. He would be lying if he said that he didn’t like seeing you in the stands, and nothing motivated him more than to know that you’d be waiting for him after every match to embrace him with open arms and tell him how proud you were for doing his best.

“I can’t stop you if you’re dead set on coming with me. Make sure you’re packed and ready though. Clearly we won’t have much time for any leisurely activity.” His voice softens slightly, and he kisses you again. His callous hands brush yours, and he squeezes your palms adoringly. In a hushed tone he reserves solely for you, he whispers, “Thank you for always wanting to be with me.”

x

[allykatsart]

Clubs

Spades Clubs(Here) Hearts Diamonds

Onto my favorites of the entire thing, these are the clubs! I had a lot of fun contrasting the dark and monotone colors with the bright drippy neon colors! And, you know, the colors for the ace flag are in there for Reasons LMAO

Hehehe Commission me!

Daniel ~ King of Clubs

Daniel is the whole reason any of this started! I made a character who had ADHD, was immortal, and wore an Asexual themed hoodie! I couldn't fit him in anything so I ended up making a whole world for him! XD despite these beginnings, however, he's gone through a lot of changes!

Nowadays, instead of being depressed and rich, Daniel is a punk graffiti artist! He doesn't give a damn about money and is much happier for it! He still has a terribly angsty backstory, but he got over being emo and is ready to fight the bourgeoisie.

Yet, he's still a bit young when it comes to Immortals. He's 400 years old, and only learned about other immortals in the last 150 years or so. Still, he's used to masking and hiding his supernatural aspects to seem normal. He doesn't want his friends to think of him differently. He's very loyal to his friends, they mean the world to him, and he's terrified that he'll lose them if they knew.

Ashe ~ Queen of Clubs

Ashe is.... Definitely different than most of his kind. Most Reapers are personifications of neutral concepts. Intangible things like Time or Gravity. They don't have much personality or zest. Ashe is the personification of Humanity, so they're allowed more wiggle room! They can be pretty chatty when they're guiding souls to the other side.

Ashe is pretty familiar with Daniel! He's always stoked to see him, as it breaks up the monotony of their job. Plus, Daniel always seems to bring some color to the drab world! Not to mention Ashe has saved Daniel in the past. For mortals, addiction is a lifelong disease, but for immortals it never ends, and some things will prey on that addiction...

Addiction ~ Jack of Spades

Again, no name for this one, but for a very different reason. This mushroom lady is actually the Demon of Addiction. Or rather... The tentacles are. The upper body is an unfortunate immortal soul, and is slowly being fed upon by the demon. As you can see, Addiction is quite literally eating away at them.

Demons feed off of souls, and immortal souls are like almost unlimited batteries. Reapers and Angels can scare them off, but... Addiction has a way of luring in its victims and enticing them to stay. Escape, indulgence, community, all reasons souls keep coming back to it. And it doesn't forget its victims either, it will call out for you, again and again, trying to tempt you back.

Daniel has a nicotine habit. He's gotten better, thanks to Ashe, but Addiction is patience. It can wait for him to have a slip, for the stresses of life to be too much, and it can offer him escape again. And maybe it'll be able to replace its withering form.

[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

hi hi! What'd you think the boys would do if the reader was standing under mistletoe?

A/N: I see you Nonny. I see you. Thanks for sending this in, it really jump started my creativity again <3

DARRY CURTIS

I think the holidays would bring out the fun in Darry, especially if you’re around when they hit!

There’s less stress on his shoulders when you’re by his side, I think he would actually get some time to lay back and relax

Which is exactly where the mistletoe comes in!

I’ve got a feeling Two-Bit put it in the house, but somehow, one way or another, a sprig of mistletoe finds its way into the doorway in the Curtis hallway

Darry just happens to find you beneath it, more than once of course, and takes the moment to stop and kiss you nicely before continuing on

He’ll walk away smiling, whistling to himself, happy and content with everything he’s got going for him

SODAPOP CURTIS

I can just see Sodapop leaning against the doorframe, those pretty brown eyes of his looking up at the mistletoe before landing back on your face, smiling the whole time

He’d be so sweet too, gently cupping your face with this cocky little grin that you can’t help but smile back at because he’s just too pretty-

He’s definitely the one who put it up, he’d like the extra excuse to kiss you whenever he wanted

I honestly wouldn’t put it past him to keep some mistletoe in his pocket so that you just have to kiss him, no matter where you guys end up

If someone wants to complain about how the two of you always seem to end up under the mistletoe, Sodapop couldn’t care less

Mistletoe was made for kissing and the middle Curtis brother is going to take full advantage of the little plant and kiss you a million times whenever he sees a sprig

PONYBOY CURTIS

Pony would go best red when someone points out the mistletoe over your heads and you can’t convince me otherwise

He’d chuckle nervously and duck his head, rubbing the back of his neck as he glances up at you to see how you feel about the situation you’ve just found yourself in

Full disclosure, you’re probably going to have to make the first move, Pony’s a little shy, I think, so you might have to make the first step

Just cup his face in your hands and give him a little smooch and I will personally guarantee Ponyboy will go even redder than he was before

If you’re in front of the boys, expect jeering and teasing no matter how innocent your kiss may be, the boys are annoying and we all know it

But if it was just the two of you, only you guys in the hallway, only you beneath the mistletoe, Ponyboy might be a bit bolder and pull you in for the kiss, smiling shyly against your lips <3

DALLAS WINSTON

Hear me out, alright? Just stick with me and let me go on my little rant, I swear I have a point, and I hope it comes across coherent and sweet

Buck, trying to be funny, sticks a thing of mistletoe at the base of the staircase, hanging nice and pretty from the ceiling, shining under the neon lights

Let’s just that Dallas knows it there and you don’t <3

So it’s just the two of you, going on your way to his room, done with the party scene and ready to fall asleep next to each other

And all of the sudden, Dally will just stop on the staircase and turn around to look down at you with the biggest grin, nodding up towards the little plant hanging up above your heads

And it’s not like he hasn’t been kissing you all night, because I’d bet money he has been, he just likes having another excuse to kiss you

JOHNNY CADE

10/10 experience, wholesome to the max, I think Johnny would love seeing you under the mistletoe

With some coaxing from the boys, he might sidle up beside you and press a soft kiss to your cheek, a bright spark in those dark eyes of his <3

Once he has your attention, he’d give you a nice kiss, smiling against your lips as he laces his fingers with yours

I don’t see him as the kind of guy who would carry mistletoe with him, but I see him definitely taking advantage of whatever mistletoe you find yourself under

Just a few soft kisses and then you guys are good to go on, holding hands as you walk on

If you kiss him, oh hoo hoo, he’s never been more in love with you and you can just see it in his eyes and the way he looks at you

TWO-BIT MATHEWS

Without any hesitation, Two-Bit would literally make out with you beneath the mistletoe if you let him

No matter who’s watching, if you let him, he will kiss you til you’re gasping for air because he just really, really loves you, alright?

Kissing you is something he would do anyway, so why would he mind a little plant that means he has to kiss you even more

This is sort of wholesome, I can just see him kissing you to the cheers of the boys and then giving you a soft little kiss before you step out from beneath the mistletoe

He’s gonna make a comment or two about how badly he wishes mistletoe were an all-year-round sort of thing, just you wait for it, it’s definitely gonna happen a few times

Just imagine the way he would look at you if you were the one to start the kiss, God, there would be stars in his eyes and I just really want someone to look at me like that-

STEVE RANDLE

For some reason, I’ve just got this feeling that Steve would be absolutely oblivious to whenever he’s under the mistletoe and I can just see the soft look in his eyes when you kiss him

Like if he’s busy with something and you come up to him and plant a kiss on his lips, he’s just gonna be so cute and confused before realizing what’s going on

Once he realizes though, you’ll need a crowbar to get him off of you, just a forewarning

But like, I can also see him as the guy who actively hunts for mistletoe so that he can kiss you more <3

Just him dragging you through the house by your hand so he can kiss you underneath it

Like I would bet money that he and Sodapop had a super long discussion about whether or not it was a good idea to hang some mistletoe in the garage so that when you came to visit your boy, Steve had the excuse to kiss you again

TIM SHEPARD

I just wanna kiss Tim Shepard so badly, I hope you all know that know because I really really want to

I will personally guarantee, if Tim finds you beneath the mistletoe, expect him to join you, a cocky grin on his face

He’ll make some suggestive comment, letting his hands find your waist and tugging you closer to him, thumbing across the hem of the waistline of your pants

And that smile? If you don’t kiss him when he smiles at you like that, I think you’re seriously missing your opportunity

I don’t see him going out of his way to find mistletoe to kiss you under, he’s Tim Shepard and he does what he wants, including kissing you

But if a sprig of mistletoe just happens to appear in one of the doorways in the Shepard house, don’t be alarmed <3 it was done out of love

CURLY SHEPARD

Curly’s favorite part of the holiday season quickly becomes the mistletoe, especially after the two of you start getting serious in your relationship

I’ve talked a little about it before I think, just how touchy Curly is in a relationship and how often he’d kiss you, and it really just gets worse when mistletoe is in the equation

He has little to no shame whatsoever so he’d be down to make out with you beneath the plant, no matter where you guys are and who you’re around

Also also also, please for the love of everything in this miserable world, drag Curly beneath the mistletoe and kiss him until he’s breathless, only able to grin at you like the little love-sick fool he is

Curly is touch-starved and attention-starved, so if you’re the one who instigates the kisses and all that, I will personally guarantee that Curly will be over the moon with excitement

And! He’s definitely the kind of asshole who’s going to make some comment in, like, the middle of a makeout session, about how the two of you really don’t even the mistletoe to kiss <3

[npdclaraoswald]

I do find it interesting that Agent Green gets a whole redemption but Damien doesn't*. Like Damien, as much as he is a fucking asshole who does horrible shit to people, a lot of what he does clearly stems from a genuine inability to understand other people. Meanwhile, Owen is over here low-key doing Nazi shit. Like I know The Bright Sessions doesn't lean as hard on the "people with powers are a minority group" thing as say, the X-Men, but it is a present theme, and Owen actively assists and participates in the kidnapping and unethical experimentation upon said minority group. And his motives for that are... career advancement? Impressing Joan? Like I know he likes to focus on the good the AM does for people like Rose, but he focuses on that by ignoring the fact that they're torturing people in a basement until it threatens his job security.

I know Owen does stop what he's doing and comes to Joan and Sam asking them to help him be better, but Damien asks multiple characters what he should be doing to actually connect with people and they all just kinds roll their eyes and go "Well, if you don't know, I can't explain it to you." Explaining it to him should be part of his therapy- which admittedly it's unclear the extent to which none of his therapy actually being helpful is his own fault by forcing Joan to spend the sessions talking about abilities instead of actual therapy, but it still could've been part of her little "you always wonder about the patients you can't help" speech. Is the fact that Owen gets the help he asks for and Damien doesn't just because Owen helps oust the bigger threat of Wadsworth- which doesn't even work? If Wadsworth hadn't made herself immune to abilities and Damien had made her fuck off, would he have been welcomed afterwards?

Don't get me wrong, I don't think Damien necessarily needs a redemption, and I definitely don't think he should be spending more time around the main characters, Mark especially. But Owen's redemtion has always rung a bit false for me and like the reason he died is that killing him was the only way to make him ultimately sympathetic, and I think this is part of why.

If you asked me to rank the villians of Tbe Bright Sessions, Damien would be at the bottom of the list because unlike Wadsworth, Owen, and to an extent Blackwell, he doesn't weild any institutional power over a group of people, and unlike Helen, the only person he's ever killed was in self defense. And while what he did to Neon to enact that self defense was despicable, forcing atypicals to use their abilities in ways they hate is what the AM did to every major character who went there other than Rose. And we know Owen actively participated in that because Mark and Helen know him. And it doesn't feel earned by the narrative to redeem to some extent both Owen and the institution that gives him that power over people, especially when held up in comparison to another villian.

*I do need to reread Some Faraway Place, but to my memory, the "well maybe one day, if he keeps working really hard, he'll be worthy of forming a genuine human connection" story that Damien gets there is still a far cry from Owen becoming a protagonist in The AM Archives

[this-is-fox-speaking]

my own attempt at “redesigning” some hazbin characters

(extra notes: i decided that everyone wears red for the most part because that’s the uniform color for the hotel. that’s part of why i didn’t change certain things like husk’s or vaggie’s clothing colors. - i’m 17 with the only character design knowledge being my own personal ocs, so of course, take my criticisms with a grain of salt! - everything is a bit poorly edited in terms of recoloring because i did this on ibispaint for fun.)

here are all the (re)designs together. under the cut is more info about my thought process and side by sides.

1. Husk

- The only things I changed were his pupils, the colors, and his tail tip stripes.

- I used his pilot colors because I realized they have a much warmer feel to them instead of the final design which made him look all greyed out and dead. Good for an old man, I suppose, but not good for when the inner wing is colored almost the same way as his fur, his pants, etc. Having these colors so dead makes him blend into himself too well, but changing the inner wings did a lot, I think.

- Gave him heavier lines under his eyes like eye bags, to replace the heavy fading eye bags that were in his pilot design.

- Got rid of the hearts next to his eyebrows. It felt like a bit much.

- In terms of his actual design other than the colors, I’m not mad about it! I actually adore the new pants and such. It was just the colors I had an issue with.

2. Angel Dust

- God, he’s so ugly to me.

- He looks a lot like his pilot design, but for good reason. I realized that the pilot design also had more warm colors and not bright neon pink, so I used those colors instead. I really just.. changed all the colors.

- I hate his fucking gloves. I hate them a lot. So I replaced them with his usual short gloves, but gave them back the little white tips in the show design just to be fair. I have no idea why they decided to make the lower pair of gloves white, as it just looks like they aren’t wearing any gloves at all, alongside them having no pattern like the top gloves. It’s the weirdest design choice in the entirety of this design, to me.

- I made his extra eyes actually look like extra eyes instead of teeny tiny dots.

- Gave him his tit fluff back. Like, why’d they get rid of that? It’s apart of him, bro…

- Gave him pupils, cause he looks better with them than without them. I even gave him two different ones, just for fun!

3. Vaggie

- Like Husk, I don’t actually hate Vaggie’s design. It’s the only one I have zero complaints about, actually. But I decided to mix in some of her pilot colors and traits to give her some sort of soft look, to mix in the loving girlfriend Charlie knows but also the ex-exorcist that she still is.

- I recolored her stockings, her choker, her (arm things?), and made her bow rounder, to try and tie in the idea that she’s wearing a uniform but also still wearing these softer things to be more comfortable. Again, just attempting to make her look less aggressive.

- Gave her an eyepatch so the X over her eye would make a bit more sense, design wise. Because we don’t see any form of scarring under there, I don’t think? I could be wrong. Would also explain how everyone else notices the X.

- I don’t know what the light pink middle was about, so I changed it to black.

- Recolored her sleeve frills to be white and gave her the same white frills on the bottom of her skirt. Honestly, I just thought it looked nicer.

[whatgaviiformes]

Fic: Grannies (part 2)

Part 1 here Also just added to AO3 Summary: Gordon's committed to the bit. The bit just happens to be an obnoxious amount of granny squares In this part: Gordon ~*~*~*~*~ Okay, so truth time - Gordon really loves pranks. 

There’s nothing quite like a good laugh to cut the tension, and it’s taken many years of perfecting his skills to properly read the room and his family. He still gets it wrong sometimes because people are like that, but one thing he’s proud of is that his jokes aren’t mean-spirited. That’s a line he refuses to cross. A prank is only enjoyable as long as it’s not at the expense of the other person’s overall happiness or safety. 

The granny squares?  Those are easily his best prank idea in a long time. It’s the laugh that keeps on giving, and as far as the long game goes, if he’s right about Virgil actually doing something with the squares, it’ll be a good challenge for his older brother to embrace his inner chaos demon. He’s gotta have one in there.

There wasn’t some grand scheme or anything either; Gordon just started picking up yarn for himself at random and the whole leaving around the villa thing evolved organically. 

He’s made hundreds of granny squares, but he still remembers that first one: four rounds - blue, then lavender, yellow, and pink. Sometimes he grabs at random, sometimes he chooses based on whichever color draws his eye next. His theory of color is to follow where his gaze - or his heart - wants to go, and he remembers from that first square the way he felt when he started compared to how he felt after. 

Since it was Virgil that worked him so hard in his PT that morning, it felt only right to leave it for him to find. And the sketchpad was right there.

The game spiraled from there. Sometimes it would be single granny squares hidden in different places, sometimes it was multiple put in an obvious place - like the time he put at least 20 of them and mixed them into Virgil’s clean laundry basket. 

So here’s the fun part. 

He can walk now.

Okay, fine. Hobble. But, eh, semantics. 

The point is: more of the villa and surrounding areas just became independently available to him. 

He’s had a vision ever since operation grannies became an actual thing, and finally able to execute it, Gordon’s gathered a basket of twine, scissors, and a collection of granny squares, happily humming on his way to Virgil’s studio while the rest of clan Tracy is out on a rescue. A water rescue, nonetheless. 

Stupid Chaos Cruiser. Stupid Hood. 

As he rounds the corner, the chocolate tones of cello music drift past the open door of the study, left ajar in Virgil’s haste to attend John’s situation update in the lounge. Excellent! He didn’t even need to try to guess the passcode. Inside, the easel was bare, the paints still meticulously organized, but the desk chair was pushed back with papers scattered across the fine wood. A glance over at the sketches piqued his curiosity; he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted but his mission was elsewhere. 

The large monstera plant in the corner towered over one of Gordon’s favorite chairs in all the villa. It was one of his favorite places to think; inspired perhaps just with proximity to Virgil’s creative genius. Most of his thesis had been written from that very recliner.

Ergonomic with lumbar support. 

Virgil swore he’d gotten it for his own aesthetics, but Gordon has his theories.

Gordon places the basket of knick knacks on the chair, so it’s in decent reach; he’d never be able to bend down far enough to grab what he needed if they were on the floor. First he picks up the twine, eye-balling the length he needs to wrap it around one of the stems of the plant and tie it, and he cuts what he thinks he’ll need. 

The first granny square he picks up is a solid orange. There's not a lot of those; he tends to prefer the fun of multiple colors, but the bright neon colorways were also too good on their own. 

Gordon strings the twine through the corner of the granny, lifting it to the section of monstera he’s chosen to decorate. Like a Christmas tree, but with yarn instead of ornaments. And an aroid instead of an evergreen. He ties the knot itself tightly, leaving the string loose enough around the stem for Virgil to safely cut the twine and so it won't hurt the plant. The sailor's knots are instinct, and Virgil won't be able to just undo them. There's no sense trying too either. It's just twine. 

The next granny has the same orange as the last one, but it also has neon green with black every other row. His vision was for bright colors against the natural green of the plant, and so there are no Earth tones in what he collected for this prank. 

This one he hangs a bit lower, and after he steps back to admire the way the light filters through the fenestrations onto the fibers. It’s not glow in the dark yarn, but it does look like it could be radioactive in the darkness. Perfect. 

“What are you doing in here?” 

Gordon spins towards the voice and sees purple, but the rest of his body can move quicker than his leg can, so he trips over his own feet. His grandmother, closer than she sounded when she spoke, catches him in her arms. 

“Woah! Careful there, sunshine,” she urges, helping him right himself and rebalance. “You don't want to end up back in the infirmary, do you?” 

Her top is soft like velvet and her flowery perfume only reminds him of the comforting hugs after his manys scrapes growing up. Her concern is genuine, though the smile pulling at her lips is one of amusement as the realization of just what Gordon’s doing in Virgil’s study becomes apparent. Gordon flushes under her gaze. 

“Thanks, Grandma.” His shirt is fine, but he straightens it anyway. 

“You boys,” she says fondly. She finds one of the squares in the basket with purple in the center and gestures for a piece of twine. 

“Grandma!”

“What, dear?” 

“What would Virgil say?” He hands cuts her off a piece, beaming. 

“This will make Virgil smile,” she says in answer before reaching up to another section of monstera to tie the square. “I hope he leaves it up for awhile.”

“I’ve always admired you both for this. You make such beautiful things. And watching you with yarn reminds me so much of your mother. Lucy used to always carry around little project bags, you know. She’d make little socks and hats for you and your brothers.” She chuckles, “We’d be out for a meal and Lucy would be making stuff under the table.” 

Gordon nods. “I think it’s another way Virgil feels connected to her when the music’s too much. I’m actually surprised he agreed to share it with me,” he muses.

“I’m not.” There had been no hesitation, and Gordon stops what he’s doing to ask why she’s so certain. But she notices his expression before he can speak. “Don’t give me that look. Virgil adores you, dear.” 

Gordon smiles, because that’s just not phrasing that exists in the brother code. Regardless of how true it is, for all his annoying downfalls and all. Hell, he adores Virgil too, and he admits it by keeping the coffee pot filled, and learning to love jazz piano, and sometimes by making way too many granny squares to count. 

Trust Grandma to tell it like it is.

She stands back to admire their handiwork. “Sure, our Virgil is much like your mother in a lot of ways,” she says, “but you’re a lot like her too. More than you would remember.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. Your mother could never keep things organized. She was a bit of organized chaos herself.” Grandma swings a gentle arm around Gordon’s back and leans in to whisper. “She loved neon colors. I bet crafting with you feels a lot like crafting with her.” 

Gordon’s finishes tying up his current square, not sure what to really say to that. If there’s anything to say. 

“Do you have more of these?” Grandma asks.

“Of course.” That’s a look he knows well: a mischievous glint that inspired him in his youth, rather than the scolding he’d get from others. He raises an eyebrow. “Why?” 

“We have more plants in the lounge. Come on, dear. I can tell you’re getting tired on your feet.” 

“Yes’m!” 

Later, if John heard their cackles over comms, he wisely chose not to comment.

[thotsforvillainrights]

Glad you're back! 🌈🌸 could I ask how AFO would react to his s/O leaving cute love notes 4 him?, ty!

(I love when I get requests for All For One like this because even though I hate him, it's so funny for me to think of him being in situations like this. Like "I'm after world domination! I will destroy all of you...right after I go Blueberry picking with my lover first" Lmaooo. Please, long live asks like this!)

~AFO's S/O leaves him Sweet Notes~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up|drabble

-The fact that he's come to expect this behavior from you is actually very sweet when you think about it. Like you're honestly the sugar to his salt. He knows no matter how awful he is, there will always be you standing there beside him and waiting to offset his person with your general brightness. It wouldn't matter if you were a naturally dreary person because you were still very sweet for him when in comparison to him in general. That's why when you start doing little things for him here and there, he finds himself smiling a bit more than a villain should be doing. And these are genuine smiles too, not just sinister one's with ulterior meaning behind them. Nope...just real, ACTUAL smiles coming from him.

-It starts with you packing him small bento lunches whenever he has to leave the mansion to handle business. You already know that he's not going to allow you to come with him. Your safety is of the utmost importance to him. He actually has you moved to a second location every time he leaves the house for extended periods of time since he wants to be sure no one will target you like they have in the past. Beside this, you're also well know for making him a favorite snack and presenting it when you KNOW for a fact he may be in a bad mood. how can he stay upset when he's eating a pastry made by you after all?

-Other things you do can be found around the mansion's back end. You end up reviving the dead garden there. What was once weeds taking over the back end of the house now ended up being vibrant flowers here and there. The roses are his favorite as you've managed to essentially bring them back from the dead. He's also slightly impressed with the way the vines look growing up the lattice near the large back window. He's able to take a moment to smell the flowers and get a small break from his day whenever he passes that area of the house. It's all thanks to you of course.

-Perhaps his favorite thing is the activity you've taken up lately: leaving messages for him throughout the mansion. These are usually small and brightly colored sticky notes with various little phrases on them. In the bathroom there sits a neon pink note reading 'I love you to the moon and back' right on the bathroom sink. In the living room you can spot a green sticky note that says 'never forget how important you are to me' stuck on the side of the TV stand. The study had a nice little orange note sticking above the fireplace mantle that reminds him to eat and get plenty of water and sleep. The notes are everywhere, some easy to find and some no so much. He secretly hops you never give up this activity as he finds joy in little bits of his day when he finds random notes describing your love for him.

[tywrites]

not your babe | the lost boys [marko x reader]

a/n: hi! this is my first time actually writing in around 9 months? so i apologise if it’s bad :’) it’s also my first time writing for the lost boys! i just can’t get this man out of my head >.< i found marko pretty difficult to characterise so i apologise if he’s ooc <3 as always feedback is super appreciated!

summary: you get stood and marko wants to make you feel better :( inspired by this post by @kurt-nightcrawler​

pairing: marko x gn!reader (i’m pretty sure i didn’t use any gender terms-)

word count: 2.2k

warnings: cheating :0, i think that’s it? maybe ooc marko

---

A sigh fell from your lips. The bright lights from the boardwalk shimmered around you, taunting you. Intoxicated whoops and screams of laughter echoed and swirled through the air. Your arms were comfortingly wrapped around your body despite the warm summer night. Gazing longingly at the people around you having such a good time caused your heart to ache. As much as you wished to join in with the festivities, there was a heavy bitterness lying inside you.

Your boyfriend wasn’t the most punctual person in Santa Carla, but standing you up completely was new. After waiting for nearly 2 hours, you were close to giving up and going on home, maybe drowning your sorrows in a bottle of wine and shitty late night TV. You glanced at your watch once more, the neon numbers only succeeding in making you feel worse. I mean, really? What kind of person leaves their partner waiting for this long? Had he forgotten or could he just not be bothered to drag his sorry ass here tonight? You’d only been dating for about a month, but you really couldn’t believe that you meant so little to him.

You surveyed the boardwalk, taking notice of all the familiar faces. You were a regular there, having lived in Santa Carla for pretty much your whole life. It may be dangerous, but it was home. In the distance, you could make out a gang of Surf Nazis messing around with Big Ed, the boardwalk’s night guard, as per usual. Clumps of people were scattered around, chatting at the top of their lungs; drunks and junkies wobbling their way around the stalls. The boardwalk was particularly crowded tonight, probably due to the weekend; but there was no sight of him. Biting your lip, you decided that enough was enough and began to gather your things ready to leave. It was particularly frustrating since you’d put so much effort into your appearance tonight. But whatever, dude didn’t deserve to see you looking so good if he couldn’t even be bothered to show up.

A sudden cacophony of motorcycle engines broke you from your thoughts. You dropped your bag back onto the bench and whipped around, hoping to see your boyfriend. He was never seen without his bike. Instead, you were met with a gang of boys who you were all too familiar with. Clad in leather and showing a tasteful amount of skin, they were definitely a hard bunch to miss.

A few of them frequented the record shop you worked night shifts at, usually the two blonds (the natural ones anyway...) They’d always been sweet to you, despite their reputation – even going as far as to chase away some guys who’d been harassing you one time. That happened all too often around here so you really did appreciate the gesture. Those guys never entered the store again. You understood why people found them intimidating, but to you, they were really fun to be around. Always laughing and joking around in the store, and more often than not, flirting too. Especially Marko. You’d found yourself drawn to the wild guy in a way you’d never been before. His fashion sense, his humour, the way he always made a point of making conversation with you whenever he’d come in. You kinda had it bad for him. Maybe he flirted a bit too much for your taste considering he knew you were taken, but he was funny and definitely easy on the eyes. Your boyfriend really didn’t approve of your friendship, he always seemed to pull you away the moment you started getting too close for comfort. The two guys really didn’t get along.

You struggled to tear your eyes away from Marko as he and his friends parked on the side of the boardwalk. They bantered good-naturedly, giggling with each other as they dismounted their bikes. The girl and kid that always hung around with them hopped off the bikes and wandered into the fairground, the rest of them speaking for a moment before Marko turned and headed into the crowd with Paul. They strutted around for a bit, looking around the area before Marko looked in your direction. You quickly averted your eyes, the ground suddenly becoming very interesting. He brought Paul in for a moment to whisper in his ear. When he pulled away, a large suggestive grin was plastered on Paul’s face and he clapped Marko’s back as if wishing him luck before continuing on. Marko rolled his eyes at his friend’s antics while heading over to you.

“Hey there babe,”

“Not your babe,” you reminded him, looking up to meet those mischievous blue eyes you’d grown so familiar with.

He smirked as he advanced towards you, looking at you intently. He was pretty close now, standing in front of the small bench you were sitting on. He bounced on the heels of his feet as he glanced around, gently nibbling on the skin of his thumb. Cute. “So… Where’s your little boyfriend?” He asked, quirking a brow.

You looked down, shuffling your feet. God, this was humiliating. “He, uh...”

“Didn’t show?”

You let out a short, half-hearted laugh. “That obvious, huh? Yeah, you got it right,”

“Asshole. Clearly doesn’t know what he’s missing. You look really fucking good tonight.” He grinned when he noticed the blush that rose to your face at that. You realised that you were genuinely smiling for the first time tonight. “So since he’s not here… you’re free tonight, right?”

“I mean, technically. But I was honestly just planning on heading home, not really in the best mood y’know? Wouldn’t wanna bring the vibe down,” you replied, fidgeting with the strap of your bag.

“Aw c’mon!” He took your hands in his, the leather of his gloves sliding against your soft skin. “The night’s still young, don’t let that tiny dick asshole ruin it for you,”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, your laugh only making Marko smile wider. God, your laugh did things to him. You knew this might be a bad idea. You were still taken. But right now, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He was the one who fucked up, why should your night be ruined because of him? You mulled it over for a moment before replying.

“Fuck it. Why not?”

“Then let’s bounce, babe.”

–

Your arms were wound tightly around Marko’s torso, gently tracing patterns onto the bare skin of his stomach exposed by his crop top. The firm denim of his jacket was rough against your bare arms, the many patches layered over each other creating an uneven texture. You leant your cheek against his back as you sped through the night, sand flying up into the air as you rode. It was exhilarating. Your boyfriend never let you near his bike; it was his pride and joy. At this very moment, as the wind whipped through your hair, splaying it out behind you – you’d truly never felt more alive. You screamed in excitement and tightened your grip when he suddenly lifted the bike back into a wheelie, whooping wildly. The engine roared deafeningly. Your eyes clenched shut involuntarily as you felt the bike lean back, your stomach dropping. You could hear Marko chuckling at the screams coming from your mouth and found yourself laughing along.

The moon and his headlights lit the way in front, showing nothing but a long expanse of sand. To your right was the most gorgeous view of the ocean, to the left the vivid lights from the fairground. It felt as though the moonlight was stalking you both, following you through the shadows and bouncing off the waves. Part of you didn’t want the night to end. It was like a dream.

Unfortunately, the ride was finished too soon. Riding bumpily back up the stairs to the boardwalk, Marko parked his bike back where you’d first started nearly two hours ago. After that ride, your boyfriend wasn’t even a passing thought in your mind. All you could think about was the pretty boy who was currently helping you off the back of his bike.

“How was that?” He grinned as he slung his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side.

“Well, it was definitely worth the absolute mess that is my hair right now,” you giggled, trying your best to smooth out your locks but to no avail. Not that it mattered when two seconds later Marko’s hand found it’s way into your hair, messing it up once again. You glared playfully at him.

“It’s cute, you should keep it like that,” he winked. “C’mon!”

He grabbed your hand, dragging you into the fairground before you could protest. Not that you would have. You weren’t 100% sure where all of this was going – whether he was just trying to cheer you up because of the whole boyfriend thing or whether it was something more. But you put all of those thoughts to the back of your mind. You just wanted to have a good time.

And you did. He dragged you on pretty much every ride, no matter how many times you was chased off by the security guard. Laughing delightedly together on the biggest roller coasters, you clinging tightly to his arm as the cart teetered over the edge of steep inclines. The teasing quips he’d make about you being scared. It was a rush, a breath of fresh air. The pounding in your heart and lungs as you sprinted away from Ed hunting the two of you down. Of course Marko hadn’t told you about his ban from the boardwalk. You weren’t one to get in trouble a lot, but this was exhilarating. After getting pursued all throughout the fun house (you’d lost Ed in the mirror room, and Marko for a short while too, but you’d reunited outside the fun house), the two of you sprinted down to a ride at the very end of the fairground. A boat ride on a track tempted you, one you hadn’t seen before. Must be new. But hiding in the tunnel seemed like a good shout.

“Quick, on here!” You both hopped onto the ride, the boat rocking creakily in the water, and frantically urged the operator to start.

The bored teen cranked the lever and you were off, heading towards a tunnel lit up with pink tinted lights on the inside. You looked up just in time to see the lit up banner pasted on top of the tunnel. The Tunnel of Love.

Go figure.

You breathed heavily, desperately trying to catch your breath, clutching the side of the boat. Looking at your companion, you couldn’t understand how Marko seemed so unbothered while you were still fighting the stitch in your side. Instead, he was far more distracted by the inside of the tunnel. Huge heart-shaped arches lead you through the ride, flower petals were scattered across the water. Neon bulbs emanated a pink glow as a subtle, sweet smell spread through the air.

He looked at you, smirking. “Just wanted to get me alone, huh babe?”

You rolled your eyes, shoving his shoulder with your own. “Not your babe…” you said quietly.

He giggled, intently gazing into your eyes. Carefully, he reached out and took your hand. You felt the cool leather of his fingerless gloves and rough callouses as he gently played with your fingertips. He smiled lopsidedly at you. Your heart fluttered.

“You still thinking about him? Your night still ruined?”

You bit your lip, shaking your head. “He’s the last thing on my mind right now.”

His gaze was intense, you felt so analysed. One of his hands left yours, coming up to cup your cheek. Your breath hitched but you leant into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed. You waited. Soft lips pressed against your own, capturing your mouth in a sweet kiss. It was so different than you expected, gentle and slow. Until he took his arm and moved it to your back, manoeuvring you onto his lap. His hand dropped to your waist, his grip firm as he deepened the kiss. You arms came up to settle around his neck, one of your hands tangled in his blond curls. He held you tightly against his body as his lips moved in sync with yours, the kiss becoming gradually more messy as it went on. You were breathless, chest heaving but unable to part from him. The gloved hand around your waist became more and more confident, playing with the hem of your shirt before sliding underneath. The cold leather made you shiver as it slid against you, tracing patterns on your side. It was so sudden when he bit your lip, a high whine escaping you. You could feel him smirk against your lips. Your head was foggy as he reconnected your lips, almost possessive with the way he held you against him.

“That’s enough kids, break it up!”

You hadn’t even noticed the ride stop. You sprung apart from him, still feeling as though your were under a trance. Looking up, blinking in the bright lights of the fairground, you saw the night guard hovering over you both, a triumphant scowl on his face.

“Uh oh-”

“I’ve got you now!”

Marko yanked you up, leapt out of the boat and – narrowly escaping Ed’s arms – the chase began once again. You ran side by side into the night, laughing manically. You’d definitely be giving your boyfriend a call tonight.

[zee-has-commitment-issues]

Hi, so I wrote a little fic, and I posted it. I gave it to Dani, she laughed at it, I asked if I should edit it, she said "fuck it we ball"

The entire fic will be below the cut because it's short enough to post here, but if you'd like to leave comments or kudos, it is also posted on my AO3. It's only 1k words.

Dress Up As...

This is the stupidest party they have ever thrown. They know that.

This was the stupidest party they had ever thrown, and they all knew it. No one was sure whose idea it had originally been, and no one was quite brave enough to own up to it. But it was their last party at Hillerska — their last third years’ party — and it seemed like a pity to go out without throwing at least one entirely stupid blowout. 

The theme was truly very simple: Dress Up Like… 

Throughout the entire week before, each third year had one at a time drawn a card out of a hat to find out what or who they would be dressing up as for the party. Every person had a different theme. No one should or would be dressed for the same party. In theory, that’s what made it fun. 

What made it decidedly not fun was the fact that no one was allowed to redraw their theme. Once the card was in their hand, they could not switch with anyone or draw a second theme. That factor made the whole thing more than a little stressful. Because not everyone had the clothes they needed just lying around. Some of them had even resorted to stealing from First Years just to complete their looks. 

But now it was the night of the party, and one by one they started to trickle in, costumes ready and on full display.

Some were better than others. 

Henry wore a black tank top and bright green basketball shorts, chunky sneakers and a backward baseball cap. The entire night, he carried around a can of beer and would randomly start shouting about his human rights. Dress Up Like… An American. 

Walter, his ever present counterpart, looked truly ridiculous. More so than usual. He showed up in short-shorts and a crop top, an LED flower crown sitting pretty atop his head. He had a mesh shawl overtop that went farther down than his pants did, and somehow he had managed to find what could only be described as cowboy boots. Dress Up Like… A Pinterest Girlie. 

Stella wore a baby pink nightgown with a fairy pattern and clearly not matching blue bunny slippers. She had her hair tied up into pigtails and she was carrying around a worn-in looking stuffed bear. She was drinking her alcohol through a sippy-cup and every once in a while switched to suck on a lollipop. Dress Up Like… A Five-Year-Old. 

Fredrika had it (arguably) the easiest out of all of them. She was quite literally wearing a bedsheet that she’d pinned into a toga and some sandals she’d managed to find on short notice. She’d gone the extra step to make herself a wreath for her hair, but pretty much everyone was mad at her for her lucky draw. Dress Up Like… An Ancient Roman. 

Alexander had somehow gotten his hands on neon spandex. He went all out for his costume, even finding someone to give him a perm. There was a neon sweatband on his head that had “mysteriously” gone missing from the locker room a week ago. He’d completed his look with sunglasses that were too big for his face and Henry’s orange wrist-watch. Dress Up Like.. The 80s. 

Madison wore a muscle tank and tight biker shorts. She was carrying around a big bin of vanilla protein powder and every time someone asked her a question she would respond with “do you even lift, bro?” She’d gone as far as to draw on faint mustache hairs and no one was actually sure if she was kidding about having bought into cryptocurrency as a way to commit to the bit. Dress Up Like… A Gym Bro. 

Sara had spent all week stressing about her costume, only to give in and ask Henry if she could borrow his tuxedo. The one she knew he had just lying around because it was Henry, and of course he had a tuxedo lying around. She’d stolen a ring box from Simon to keep in her pocket, as well, and she had found a top hat somewhere in their mother’s box of old Halloween costumes. Dress Up Like… A Groom. 

It was a lucky coincidence that Felice was her counterpart in all of that. They looked ridiculous, but at least they looked ridiculous together. Felice had taken the time to go to the thrift store in Bjärstad for her costume, though. Not even the students of Hillerska had wedding dresses lying around. She was able to find one for relatively cheap, too, and it had come with a veil. The dress was nice if you pretended it wasn’t from the 70s and ignored the suspicious stain. Sara had gotten her a bouquet to really sell the look. Dress Up Like… A Bride. 

Wilhelm had borrowed his entire outfit from Felice. It was a blue dress and some gold jewelry. Nothing too scandalous, though he was still sure Jan-Olof’s heart would fail if he saw it. They still hadn’t told him about Wille piercing his ears yet. Wilhelm had opted to wear his own shoes for the night, as much as Felice begged him to try out high heels. He’d promised her he’d try another time when he wouldn’t have to commit to an entire night in them whilst slightly drunk. Dress Up Like… Your Best Friend.

It was Simon that truly caught everyone’s eye, though. With the exception of a long coat and scarf that they knew wasn’t his, he looked like he wasn’t dressed up at all. Everything he wore was seemingly something he wore every day. A sweatshirt and jeans, converse and a silver chain hanging around his neck. 

“Oh, come on, Simon! You could have at least tried,” Fredrika called out, somehow already tipsy despite the party having just started. 

“I’m dressed up,” Simon said. He shrugged off the coat and scarf before depositing himself in Wilhelm’s lap. 

It was an obvious lie. 

“Simon, you wear that all the time,” Henry pointed out. 

Simon nodded, running his fingers through the hairs on the back of Wille’s head. “Yes, I do, and I’m still dressed up.” 

Wilhelm looked like the cat who caught the canary and, most of the time, the rest of them would take that as a clue to just accept Simon’s words as truth and move on. But not tonight. No, they had all made asses of themselves trying to commit to this stupid ass party plan and they would be damned if Simon ruined it. They would force him to go home and change if they had to. They’d drag him by the ear back to Bjärstad and stand guard until he emerged looking just as idiotic as the rest of them.

“I would bet all the money in my wallet that you are not dressed up properly,” Walter said. It would have been a serious threat, too, had he not looked so ridiculous. 

“Are you sure about that?” Simon asked, a smirk tugging at his lips. 

“I’d like to join in this bet!” Maddie declared, pulling her wallet out of her waistband. And, soon, they were all betting some kind of money on the fact that Simon had not properly committed to their stupid plan. 

Wilhelm didn’t say a word. He just sat back with a smug look on his face as Simon got all of his friends to bet him a small fortune. He, of course, knew what Simon was supposed to be dressed up as. He, of course, knew Simon was about to be several thousand kronor richer. 

When everyone had placed their bets on the table, his own sister included, Simon pulled his card out of the coat he’d earlier discarded. He knew they were going to challenge him on his costume. He’d come prepared for this. 

He cleared his throat, sitting up straighter, though it was difficult with Wilhelm’s arms wrapped tightly around his stomach. “Everything I’m wearing — boxers included — is something Wilhelm has, at some point, stolen from me,” he announced. He threw his card down on top of the make-shift money pot and then leaned back into his boyfriend with a satisfied smirk. “Read it and weep, bitches.” 

Dress Up As… Royalty.

[relly00]

Garreth Weasley x Reader

Reader is not a Gryffindor in this but could be any of the other three houses, as the reader sneaks into the Gryffindor common room and you can’t break into your own common room.

Waking up you didn’t take notice of the sudden change in your hair as you stretched. Beginning to get up from your bed in the dorm room, your other three roommates not in sight. As you start to leave you take notice of a neon blur that seemed to appear on the mirror. The small mirror your roommate hung up on the wall. You stop taking a couple steps back to fully analyze yourself in the mirror. A scream left you mouth as you hands quickly go up to grab your hair.

“This can’t be happening.” Bright neon hair is the sight that you happen to see. you couldn’t believe it just yesterday your hair was normal, not this bright neon color. Just then you remembered someone…meaning Garreth happen to be creating a new potion yesterday. Luckily it was still early in the morning meaning you could give the redhead a little visit.

Quickly getting ready you mutter the spell you been perfecting ever since you saw it being performed from Professor Weasley. The spell that changed your robes to your designated house, although you don’t know for sure how a flick from the wand changed your robes. You dedicated a bit of time on creating or at least trying to get something close enough that it changes your robes to a different house for some time.

The spell doing its magic as you flick your wand. Robes you seemed to be wearing once showcasing your house crest changed to the Gryffindor robes. The neon bright hair contrasting the robes horribly.

“He better have a good excuse or even an explanation for this!” You march out of your common room. Waking by classmates and other students you get some confused looks, some giggle, others giving you a weird look as you walk by with your neon hair and Gryffindor robes.

In this moment you realized you in fact did not know the common room password. Scouting the area for a Gryffindor you decided it was best to pretend you forgot the common room password, as to why they and never seen you before as a Gryffindor is a different story.

“Uhm excuse me…”

“Oh hello! What do you need” the enthusiastic Gryffindor quickly turned to you leaving their previous conversation. Black short hair that reaches above the ears, and brown eyes meet yours. They don’t seem to mind the bright hair.

“This is embarrassing- really. So I might have forgot the password to the Gryffindor common room and I can’t seem to recall what it was.” You tried to sound as lost as you could, really hoping this would work.

“Oh don’t worry about it, it happens! I can go with you. I need to go back either way. I forgot I was going to send a letter before the great hall served breakfast!” The Gryffindor replies quickly moving as you follow. Making it in no time to the Gryffindor entrance, the new-found acquaintance says the password the painting opens and you both enter. They leave you alone as they walk away towards some other people.

Looking around you see big groups of people chatting. Spotting the person you were looking for you quickly grab drag the redhead dragging him out of the common room.

“Ow that hurts.” Weasley groaned as he fell, the sudden stop causing him to tumble down. You shake your head pulling out your wand and muttering the same spell from the earlier letting your robes change back to their original form. Finally meeting eyes as he stands up.

“What happened to you?” Garreth laughs then stopping as he notices your expression.

“Sorry-” he whispers.

“It’s clearly about the potion you made yesterday.” You uttered sighing afterwords.

“Oh, I didn’t intend for it for it to work.” Garreth smiles a little. You can’t stop the smile that makes it on your face as you see his face lit up at the small victory.

“That’s great, but that it worked how long will it last?” You asked. He looks up at you stepping closer to you.

“It should wear off in a couple of hours…” he says reaching out to touch your hair.

“That’s great.” You exclaim as you ignore as his hand slowly pays down on your head.

“Don’t worry about your hair, it’s not that bad.” He says taking his hand off and out of your hair. You shake your head.

“Everyone has been staring how could it not be that bad.” He chuckles

“Well your in luck cause it seems you have forgotten we don’t have classes today, they have some important meeting. Now c’mon.” Garreth smiles as he grabs your hand.

“It’s my turn to drag you!”