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cantfightmoonlight · 2 days ago

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The party had sounded like a good idea three years ago. Or maybe she had simply been swept up in the moment? Convinced that a funeral themed birthday would be fun, because at at least there were two people who had seemed to be up in arms on her behalf? She might not have had many people, but two had seemed to be enough. Everyone else in her life had seemed to want to either gloss past what happened to her or, worse, expect her to simply get over it, because dying was apparently par for the course in Lunar Cove. Who cares if you were deceived into moving to a town you would be unable to leave without losing your memories? Who cares if you had your heart toyed with by some lesbian vampire who had only ever seen you as toy for them to play with when you had thought they were the love of your life? Who cares if they drained you of all of your blood and buried your body in the backyard of the house you thought you'd grow old in together to hide the evidence? You're the murderer and the terrible person who 'smells of death' and should never came back to begin with, even if you hadn't been fully coherent when you completed your vampire transition and accidentally put someone else through what had been done to you.

It didn't matter if she had hated herself for what she had done that night. If it still traumatized her to this day and she still regretted having ever come back. She was at fault. Her. She was the bad guy and she didn't even blame anyone for thinking it, because, as she was slow to catch or maybe forced to realize, they were right.

But, at least she had her friends. One might have spent three months hanging out with her and didn't realize in all that time, she was a vampire even though she hadn't exactly done anything to hide it. That one friend might have not even bothered to ask her where she had been for three years she spent dead. But, when they heard she hadn't even gotten a gravestone, her friends wanted to rewrite the past. They wanted to turn what marked the worst moment in her life into a fresh start. A new beginning. They had wanted to give her the loving speeches they felt she deserved to have had the first time and wanted her first birthday as a vampire to be as Gia, ironically and unknowingly, mentioned in her eulogy, 'the first day' of Bri's new life.

But, it never happened. They got caught up in other things and her first birthday being a vampire went by pretty uneventfully. Fast forward a year and Paloma had left town. Dilan brought the same garlic press Bri was called 'Cruella' over to White Elephant and when her best friend saw her eyes turn back, she called her a monster and stabbed her in the very literal back. So much for a celebrating. And now? While she appreciated what Dilan was trying to do, truly and she knew Dilan had really been trying to step up to the plate in terms of their friendship, the party felt a little too late. Bri didn't want to be there just as much as anyone else did. What was supposed to be a celebration wound up feeling like a real funeral as she found herself mourning the past and when she heard Bexley's attempt at a joke through the wooden door, Bri found herself mumbled quietly out, her cheeks flushing red in embarrassment having been caught in such a state, "You were going to pee in a confessional? Because I... I know this isn't a real church anyone or anything, but if there is a hell, I think that might be a good way to me smited there," She attempted a joke back however lame.

Cracking the door open a peek, she motioned with a tilt of her head toward the other door beside her, so that Bex could join her in her hiding space. "I know. That's why I'm hiding. Care to... care to join me?"

Bex really hadn't wanted to come to this party, not because of who it was for or what the theme was (though she thought it was a little macabre to have a funeral themed birthday party for someone who had died (and this was coming from someone who literally spent most of her free time scouring the forest floor for dead things and bones)), but because she really wasn't feeling festive about anything this year. Especially after the White Elephant party and seeing Billie and not being able to look at her at all, even as she'd taken her gift to make sure the other girl actually got something she could use. They hadn't talked to each other since the night of the Catalyst attack and each day that dragged by just made her hurt more.

But, apparently, this party was somehow mandatory. Bex really didn't understand, but she'd thrown on one of her nicer black dresses, made her way to Confessions, and decided she'd go in, make an appearance, and then fuck off. Easy.

Except it wasn't easy. People were all expected to give eulogies and they couldn't just show up and leave, and every time Bex saw a flash of blonde hair and brown eyes, she felt her heart jump into her throat and she really didn't want to be here at all. It was enough that the funeral theme kept reminding her of her past, of the fact that she never even got to attend her own parents' funerals because it was her fault they were dead, but now she had to also deal with trying to confront feelings about a girl who wasn't talking to her, and it was extremely overwhelming. Enough so that Bex felt like her heart was pounding too fast and her throat was closing up. She ran for the closest escape, away from the party and the prying eyes, throwing open the first door she could find--

Only to come face to face with someone else who had the same idea. Except, it wasn't just any someone, it was the someone that the party was for.

The door shut in her face faster than Bex could register, standing there, stunned for a moment. All she could see, despite the door being closed, was Bri, sitting curled up in the confessional, holding a single cupcake. She didn't really know what to do. Her voice sounded so small. Sad. Tired. Bex understood that.

"Sorry," Bex finally said quietly, but she didn't move, "thought this was the bathroom." It was supposed to be a joke, she didn't know if it hit, but it was an attempt. "You, um-- you know the party is out here, right?" she teased.

#bexley ft. brielle #c: brielle #did I try to match length cause I have a problem? lol maybe haha

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moemammon · 4 years ago

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I love your writing so much!! Could you please write about how the brothers would feel about seeing you baking with Luke? Lukes like an adorable little brother and I’d love to see how the brothers would feel about finding out you’re good with kids. Thank you so much :)

The Demon Bros React to GN!MC Being Good with Chihuahuas Luke!

Lucifer

If you wanted a pet dog, all you had to do was ask?? Cerberus exists????

Jokes aside, he never doubted the two of you would get along. Humans are more comparable with benevolent beings, and Luke was practically a lapdog.

He was a little annoyed that the yappy angel was always clinging to your hip and following you around, but he got used to it pretty quickly.

Especially seeing how happy you are when the two of you are baking together. You get along so well, you'd assume you were old friends. Or maybe a parent and their adopted kid?

Either way, he's happy to see you're enjoying yourself so much. You handle Luke and his outbursts, and keep him quiet and occupied. He's content.

Mammon

Why are you letting Luke follow you around like that? There can only be ONE MC fan and it's MAMMON.

He's pissy about it at first and keeps doing everything he can to drag you away from the screeching angel. Why would you wanna hang out with a little kid all the time?? Lame.

Though he starts realizing that you genuinely enjoy Luke's company when the two of you are seen baking together, and sees that look on your face.

You're so patient and gentle with Luke, despite the angel being centuries older than you, and it's almost like you're an older sibling guiding your annoying little brother.

Now he's wondering if you're just a Good Samaritan, or really good with brats. Either way, he's starting to wish HE were in Luke's shoes. Pat his head too, damn it...

Levi

As long as you guys don't get too noisy, he doesn't mind your hangouts. Though that's rare since you're either laughing loudly, or Luke is screeching because he's being pestered by the others.

So obviously Levi pops his head out to go see why you're being so LOUD. And that's when he sees that happy face you're making. Were you always like that with Luke?

And why Luke?? Wasn't it annoying to have that tiny angel acting like your bodyguard? He guessed not, since you happy accepted any plans he offered up.

Levi admits he's a little jealous of how well you guys get along though. Maybe you preferred the company of angels after all? Or just... people who were shorter than you?

There's no way he'll ask to join, but later he'll pull you into the kitchen when it's just you and him, and suggests making some cookies together. You can shape them like your favorite anime characters! Now stop talking about Luke please-

Satan

He realizes pretty quickly that you like children, with the way your expression softens when Luke runs up and greets you, and talks about your day.

He likes harassing the angel, so the fact that you two hang out often means that he has plenty of chances to try out new pranks! Of course he never goes overboard, considering you're quick to defend your chihuahua.

He enjoys the soothing tone your voice adopts when you're talking to Luke, and the way you're always able to get him to settle down. Though you two have playful moments when Satan is sure you're annoying the hell out of Luke.

Despite that, you two are able to get along no matter the hurdles, and he admires your patience. He's pretty sure he couldn't spend more than three afternoons in a row with Luke. You couldn't even pay him to.

He'll outright ask you if you like children, referencing the way you act around Luke. He's sure it must be refreshing for you to be able to have him around.

Asmo

He doesn't mind Luke being around so often since he thinks he's cute, and it's funny to harass him. And he notices how you get when you two hang out!

He loves to interrupt your baking sessions so he can snap some surprise photos, or sample the batter without anyone's permission.

And he realizes pretty quickly that you must like kids. Though he's still gonna make sure he has majority of your attention regardless!

Regularly posts your baking escapades to devilgram so he can be involved in some way. Though he's unavailable if you guys ask him to sample anything. He's on a diet, remember?

Okay... maybe one bite. But only if you feed it to him! And he knows Luke is gonna kick him out of the kitchen immediately after, so make it quick, okay? ❤️

Beel

Beel's pretty happy you and Luke are so compatible! Especially since your hangouts usually lead to baking. And you two tend to get carried away and bake too much, and that means he gets to feast.

He usually slinks around the kitchen when you're hanging out anyway, so he catches onto the way you behave when you're with Luke.

Gently reprimanding him when he disses the demons, trying not to tease him TOO much, laughing with him when you both get flour all over yourselves...

Were you just naturally good with children? Or small people?? Now he REALLY thinks you're some kind of angel.

He likes seeing you smile so much. So even though it's annoying when Luke yells or hogs all your attention, he can tolerate it if it means you're happy and making cakes for him to eat

Belphie

He's not a huge fan of Luke's presence, mostly because the angel is annoying. He's always yelling, always insulting him and his brothers, always trying to convince MC to move into their dorm...

But he's too tired to really do much about it, other than making obligatory "chihuahua and his owner" jokes. It's funny seeing how red Luke's face can get.

In quieter moments when you and Luke are baking together, Belphie likes to watch from a distance. He pays close attention to how you behave, and has come to a conclusion.

You like kids. You HAD to, because why else would you want Luke hanging off of you all the time?

Might consider teasing you, and asking you to treat him like that, too. He just wants to be babied a little. Actually, he wants you to do everything for him. That's fine, yeah?

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miekasa · 4 years ago

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daylight’s wasting (you better kiss me)

↯ pairing: eren jaeger x reader

↯ genre and warnings: college au, fluff, someone please be gentle with this boy i’m begging you, jean and eren pretending they don’t give a fuck about each other whilst actually being best bros for the win

↯ word count: 2k

↯ summary: based off of that reddit post about some guy talking about his girlfriend washing his hair for the first time + hoping it fills a request for someone asking for reader playing with eren’s hair for the first time :’)

↯ notes: this is cross-posted and edited slightly from another blog in a completely separate fandom, so if you’ve seen it before, no you didn’t </2

Jean can’t say that he immediately noticed a pep in Eren’s step when the green-eyed boy met him in the library, but what he does notice is the stupid, dopey looking grin and starry-eyed gaze in his eyes that he’s sporting while he’s not doing his part for their project. And while Jean considers himself relatively attractive, he knows for sure Eren isn’t shy about making it known that he doesn’t; so the brunette doubts the literal heart eyes Eren has are for him.

“Eren? Eren, bro, are you good?” Jean calls, a dark eyebrow raised above his left eye. Eren barely registers the calls of his name, and it takes Jean waving his hands in front of the shorter’s face for him to wake from his trance, looking up at Jean with that same, longing smile (that’s, admittedly, starting to creep him the fuck out).

“Yeah,” Eren sighs, something reminiscent of a lovelorn cartoon prince, as he rests his elbow atop his notebook and his chin the palm of his hand, “I’m good.”

Jean looks at him, skeptical and confused. He shifts in his seat, but Eren’s eyes don’t follow—he just stares ahead, lost in thought and completely unaware of everything around him. He looks like a lovesick little bitch if you ask Jean. Or completely sloshed.

Slowly, Jean leads forward, eyebrows pinched, looking for streaks of red in Eren’s eyes, “Are you stoned right now?”

“What?” Eren pulls back, almost offended, “No, I’m not high—Jean, what the fuck?”

Jean simply shrugs, leaning back into his seat, “I dunno. Yesterday you were so stressed about your acrobatic salt cycle samples—”

“—Acetylsalicylic acid. It’s basically Asprin, and I wasn’t stressed, they just weren’t crystallizing the they way they’re supposed to—”

“I don’t fucking care. But now you look mellow as hell,” Jean cuts him off, “Just thought maybe you rolled a good one before coming here or something. Not that I’m judging, of course. But you’re much more of a lightweight than you think, so try not to go—”

“‘M not a fucking lightweight,” Eren groans, “You and Reiner are just heavy bodied.”

“Just admit you can’t hold your shit, Jaeger.”

“I’m not admitting shit. Mikasa makes strong drinks, that’s all.”

Jean grits his teeth at Eren’s stubborn antics, but lets it go. It’s not like the conversation was going anywhere, anyways. “If you’re not baked, then what’s got your head in the clouds?”

Eren shifts in his seat now, pulling his hand off the table, and into his lap. Jean’s suspicious eyebrow is quirked again, and that slightly creeped-out feeling is back when he spots Eren’s ears going red.

Jesus Christ, he just asked a simple question.

“Not that I care,” Jean tacks on, feigning disinterest, “But if it’s gonna keep you from doing your half of the project, just spill it already so we can get this shit over with.”

Eren rolls his eyes, but that blush is still there. He looks like he contemplates waving it off for a minute, before he sighs. “(Y/N) and I showered together yesterday,” he finally blurts.

Jean blinks. “Oh. So you got laid—”

“—No, no, it wasn’t like that!” Eren corrects him, the red on his ears spreading to his cheeks slowly, with every word that spills out of his mouth. Eren stutters, a hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck, “She just… She washed my hair.”

Eren sighs, flustered and frustrated, and annoyed that he looks like this in front of Jean’s horse-faced ass of all people; but he knows, that no matter how much shit Jean talks, he can rely on him. For better or (often times) for worse.

And Jean, for as hotheaded as he can get, and for as much as Eren annoys the shit of out him, knows how to read a room; and in this moment, he can see that Eren is actually coming to him with genuine emotions, other than masked anger and abrasiveness. So, the both of them concede; pull back from their usual pointed commentary, and listen to what the other has to say.

“Ah,” Jean comments, lamely; an embarrassed blush of his own growing on his face at his stupidity. The two sit in silence for a moment, before Jean speaks up again, “It’s, uh… It’s nice, right?”

Eren’s eyes snap to him, wide. He almost completely forgot that Jean’s in a committed relationship, too. The two don’t often go to each other for relationship advice, or… relationship venting, but Eren makes a mental note that maybe, just maybe, he should.

“Yeah,” Eren admits, “I don’t, uh, I don’t know how to explain it. It was just—”

“Relaxing?”

“Yeah. Like all the bullshit from school just melted away all of a sudden,” Eren confesses, “All she fucking did was wash my hair and hum for, like, five minutes, but I feel like… I don’t know. Good.”

Jean hums, acknowledging Eren’s words and mulling them over. “Loved,” he chimes in with an awkward cough, “Pretty sure that’s the word you’re looking for, Jaeger.”

Eren chokes on air, his eyes darting around the room. So, yeah, it’s still a little awkward, talking with Jean of all people about his relationship, and love, and all that gushy stuff; but, even Eren can admit, it’s comforting to know that someone knows what he’s feeling—even if that someone is Jean.

“You should tell her. Girls like that shit, when you tell em what you’re thinking, you know?” Jean comments, picking up his pen to resume scribbling in his notebook. He sounds nonchalant, but from the redness on his face, Eren can tell he’s just as flustered, and probably thinking about his own girlfriend. “Besides, you’ve been together for a long ass time now. Don’t know what you’re waiting for at this point.”

“Yeah,” Eren coughs, pretending to resume his own homework, “Yeah, I think I will.”

“Good,” Jean nods, “Now will you fucking paste your paragraph in the Google Doc so I can rewrite it and make it coherent.”

“Fuck you, it’s coherent as is.”

“As if. I’ve read your shit before, and it sounds like it was written by six year old on meth. You science majors can’t write to save your life.”

“Tough talk from someone who can’t do basic addition.”

“Derivatives and shit aren’t basic addition, they were created by a man who died a virgin. Tells me everything I need to know about them and you.”

Three days later, Eren finds himself alone in your off-campus apartment, laying on your bed, stomach to the mattress, while he tries to convince himself to study for his upcoming biology exam. He finds looking around your room to be much more interesting, though, and takes the time to notice things he hadn’t before.

There’s a small strip of images of the two of your in a clear mason jar on your nightstand—the newest addition to your collection—from the photo booth at the ice-skating rink you went to last week. Eren doesn’t know why you insist on going to every photo booth you come across, but who is he to deny you the pictures.

When he looks to your closet, he isn’t surprised to see two of his hoodies, one of his warm-up soccer uniforms, and last season’s hockey jersey hanging up. What does surprise him, is the way they’re all hung up next to each other, like they have their own little section amongst your clothing; like they were reserved, special almost. He bets they’re all probably washed and clean, too; because you take care of his things like that.

He thinks about how he has a few pairs of sweatpants and pajamas—hell, even a pair of slacks and a button-down from one of your fancier dates—all tucked away in his very own drawer in your dresser. The bucket hats thats you claim are oh-so ugly still have their own place in your room, hanging next to your belts. Even his psychology textbook sits on your desk, clearly set aside for him and taken care of, but still integrated amongst your other belongings.

You seem to be the only person who thinks Eren and all his baggage can have a place in your life. You seem to always have space for things to fit in, no matter how stupid, or ugly, or tattered they are; no matter how emotional, or lost, or impulsive he is. Nothing is out of place here, himself included.

Lost in his thoughts, Eren doesn’t register the sound of your front door opening, or your footsteps growing louder. In fact, he doesn’t register that you’re home at all, until you come padding into your bedroom, shaking your backpack off of your shoulders and setting it next to his on the ground.

“Hey, baby,” you greet him, almost offhandedly, as you place your coffee down on your desk. He doesn’t mind—actually the element of practiced casualness in your tone brings a kind of warmth to him, and makes his stomach flutter.

“Hey,” he smiles, a stupidly fond look in his eye as his watched you shimmy your jacket off of your shoulders.

Eren sits himself upwards, shifting so that his long legs dangle off the edge of your bed as he watching your silhouette move throughout your bedroom. When you’re finished removing all your layers and jewelry, you finally look to him, greeting him a second time as you walk towards him and your bed.

Eren cages you in when you reach him, his ankles wrapped on top of each other as he secures you standing between his legs. He wraps his arms loosely around your waist, while your fingers crawl up the nape of his neck.

“Your hair’s dry,” you hum, your fingers raking through his brown locks as if to make your point, “You didn’t shower yet?”

Eren shakes his head lightly, craning his neck forwards to tuck the cold tip of his nose into your collar. He holds you a little tighter when you smooth his hair down, one of your hands resting against the back of his neck, and lightly scraping at the hairs near his nape.

“How come?” you question innocently, “I thought your classes ended a few hours ago—did your lab go late again? You should tell your TA you have a life outside of trying to culture bacteria in a dish, you know.”

Eren chuckles lightly, but feels the concern in your voice tug heavily at his heart strings. You seem to really hate his lab TA.

“Wasn’t him this time,” Eren mumbles against your skin, “Was waiting for you.”

“Yeah? That gonna be a regular thing, now?”

“Wouldn’t mind,” Eren confesses, words barely audible as he buries his face into your neck. He tries tickle you with his eyelashes, shift the heat towards you, but you move out of reach too quickly; your hands on his shoulders, forcing him to sit upright.

He has to look up you, just slightly, and he hopes he doesn’t look like a complete blushing idiot. If he does, you don’t seem to mind, if the way you cup his face between your hands is any indication.

“Well then, come on. I bought two new loofahs yesterday.”

Eren follows you to the bathroom with a smile, borderline giggling with excitement all the way to the shower. When it comes down to it, he relishes in the feeling of your fingertips against his scalp, suds of shampoo cascading down his neck as you find amusement in coiling his hair into a bubbly mohawk.

It’s so mundane, so simple, yet overwhelmingly intimate the way you’re taking care of him—the way you always take care of him. It fills Eren to the brim with emotions he can’t even begin to convey with words.

And when you’ve had you’re fun, and made sure his hair is throughly clean and smells like apples, you take your body wash on the ball of his (his! his very own!) loofah, and scrub away at his back, down his shoulders, across his torso; and Eren can’t stop the tears from falling.

He realizes his must look bizzare, to be standing the middle of your shower, crying like a baby with soap and suds all over his body, but he can’t help himself.

“Eren? Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he assures you, hiccuping between his words and sniffling away any more tears that threaten to fall. You don’t seem convinced, and once again, Eren feels his heart swell at just the sheer thought at you’d hold even an ounce of concern for him the way you do.

“You’re crying, Eren,” you point out, voice soft, but clearly concerned, as you reach your hands up to cup his face again, “Did I hurt you? What’s wr—”

Eren cuts you off by wrapping you in a hug, hoping—praying—you know that you could never hurt him. The two of you spend nearly five whole minutes like that, your arms wrapped around each other’s middles, with warm water pouring over your naked skin. Eren can feel you pressing shallow kisses into his chest, and he feels his heart physically swell every time your lips make contact with his skin.

It’s on the fifth, quiet press of your lips that Eren knows he can’t hold it in anymore; pulls away from your embrace to look you in your eyes.

“I love you,” he finally confesses, with wet hair stuck to his forehead, and teary eyes. It’s hardly a picture perfect moment, but Eren can’t bring himself to care; he needs you to know.

But, of course, you already did. “I know, Eren,” you say with a smile, kissing his chin, and then on the tips of your toes, his lips, “And I love you more.”

#aot x reader #snk x reader #eren x reader #eren x you #eren smut #eren fluff #aot imagines #snk imagines #levi x reader #jean x reader

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slytherinspired · 4 years ago

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Firsts - A Sirius Black Imagine

Pairings : Young Sirius Black x Reader

Warnings : smut, obviously, unprotected sex, swearing, smoking, alcohol and mild drug use.

Hi love! I did it! Beware, it is quite long, I sort of took the liberty to provide some context, but I hope you'll like it! :)

Masterlist

Sirius is looking back at himself in the mirror, wincing at his reflection. He recognizes his traits sparingly; his dark curls falling to his shoulders, his mocking smirk, his overall nonchalant expression. He knows who he is, but the clothes on his back are completely robbing him of his own identity. He glances bitterly at his beloved leather coat sitting on the back of his desk chair and sighs. The ridiculous black suit he’s wearing barely fits him. He knows it probably used to belong to one of his distant cousins and that it has been quickly and grossly recut to fit him by the house-elf. His parents are downstairs in the drawing room, waiting for him to join them so they can leave for this stupid reception.

He doesn’t even know what it is about, except that he’s going to this apparent important new Ministry guy’s house who threw a sort of lame introduction party, since he just arrived in London with his family. And what he knows is that he’s going to spend the whole night with the type of people he doesn’t want to be assimilated with. From what he heard, the host of the reception just arrived at the Ministry of Magic to help with the passing of some bill for Muggleborn regulations, as awful as it sounds. He’d like to avoid to go, but Walburga has the upper hand on him, and nothing in the world would convince his dear mother to leave her eldest son behind, knowing full well that if she does so, Sirius is going to get the fuck out of there and join these Muggles mingling Potters fools.

‘You look dapper,’ says a soft voice behind him.

Standing in the doorway, Sirius’ youngest brother observes him, grinning.

‘Shut up,’ he replies, annoyed by the stupid smile on Regulus’ face.

His brother crosses his arms and steps into his bedroom. He looks around like he just stepped into some kind of freak show. His gaze rests a little longer on a certain poster. Sirius glances at the Muggle woman dressed in a revealing red swimsuit standing straight in the middle of the picture. He smirks, and caught-red handed, Regulus turns away quickly. She always was his brother's favourite, after all. Whether he wants to admit it or not.

‘Are you going to behave this time?’ he asks, stepping in front of his eldest brother.

Sirius shrugs, trying to adjust the bowtie strangling him. For Merlin’s sake, he thinks, it feels like he’s suffocating already.

‘I always behave, brother dear,’ he replies, trying to undo the knot around his neck. ‘I just don’t behave the way they’d like me to,' referring to their parents.

Regulus shakes his head and starts fiddling with his brother’s bowtie and adjust it perfectly in one fell swoop, as if it were child’s play. Once the knot is properly buckled, he taps Sirius’ chest in an encouraging gesture, and frowns when he feels something hard hidden in the inside pocket of his brother’s vest.

‘Really?’ he asks.

Sirius snorts.

‘Just a bit of courage,’ he admits.

‘And how much courage did you drink already?’

‘Not enough, apparently,’ Sirius replies, thinking about the full flask of warm whiskey tucked inside his suit.

He’d honestly rather be stuck in detention with Snivellus for the rest of his existence then go to this lame-ass party. That alone justifies the whiskey amply.

After a few detours in the city, he finds himself in front of an imposing white manor situated in one of London’s richest Square. Oh, this is going to be a long night, he thinks. Not only it seems like the host is wizard-rich, but he’s also everything rich, period. He rolls his eyes, there’s no issue. Walburga is pressing her long and emaciated fingers into his son’s arm as they step into the great hall of the house. The interior is as posh as the exterior, with its grand marble staircase curving up to the upper floor and its giant diamond-like chandelier hanging over their heads. For God’s sake, is it a live classical assemble he hears playing in the back? As his mother pushes him further inside, the sound of light chatter reaches his ears. He sees his father, dressed in his horrible robes, already on his way to speak with some old acquaintances, quickly followed by Regulus. He scans the principal room for a quiet corner, but it’s filled with this bunch of pricks, and he’s fighting with all his might the panic that is taking over his mind. He finally spots a free corner next to a big window and he walks straight ahead in that direction, hoping no one will recognize him on the way.

‘I heard his son has found some work as a doctor,’ he hears a shrill voice say.

‘A Muggle doctor? How peculiar!’ says another voice.

This is exactly the kind of chatter Sirius doesn’t want to hear. In no way he thinks he’s superior because he was graced with magic powers at birth. It is so suffocating, and he feels so incredibly small and inadequate, drowning in this sea of close-minded guests.

He studies them, recognizes some familiar faces from Hogwarts, but most of them are Slytherins and are not close at all to use them as an escape. A waiter walks in front of him, holding a tray where champagne flutes fill themselves up. He grabs one and drink it in one sip. He’s already quite tipsy, but he doesn’t care. He’d rather be intoxicated right now to bury this hatred deep within. God, he needs air.

He sees Walburga looking for him in the room, and she’s walking next to a tall and handsome man. For Godric’s sake, why is she walking straight in his direction? The man next to her doesn’t look as old as his mother, but the grey strands in his black hair betrays his age. He looks posh, and haughty.

‘This is my eldest son, Sirius,’ says his mother in a toneless voice. ‘Sirius, this his our host, Mr Santorini.’

‘Pleased to meet your, Mr Black,’ says the man while he extends his hand.

Sirius gets up on his feet, subtly struggling to find his balance, under the duo’s concerned stare. He rapidly and weakly shakes the man’s hand and nods. Ashamed, Walburga shoots darts at her son and quickly turns away from him.

‘My youngest, Regulus, is doing quite well at Hogwarts, see, he’s - ...’ her voice fades away.

Sirius closes his eyes; he needs to find some distraction. And what could be better than the little thing he has brought to the party that is currently hidden in his pocket behind the whiskey flask? He needs to feel something else than the dreadful thoughts he has right now. He struts to the giant marble staircase and finds his way on the upper level without attracting attention to him. That is one advantage when no one cares about you; not being seen. The voices downstairs are slowly fading away and he feels already so much better.

He runs a nervous hand in his dark locks, feeling quite hot, with this bowtie strangling him. There must be a door leading outside. He tries to open the first one on his right, but the handle doesn’t bulge; it’s locked. And Walburga has confiscated his wand at the beginning of the summer upon his return from Hogwarts, so there’s no use. He sighs and adventures further away in the hall.

He has more luck with the second door, and finds himself into a deserted bedroom. His eyes make out the giant bed over the central wall of the room, and spots some sealed boxes on the floor. The translucent curtains discreetly veil the large windows in front of him, and he opens one widely and lights himself a cigarette without a care, pacing into the room nervously. He sees some pictures resting on a vintage dresser on the opposite wall. There are rows of books in the built-in bookcases, and even some disperse vinyls taking up some of the space. He’s clearly trespassing someone’s intimacy, but whose? Sirius walks to the dresser and opens up the first drawer. A tickling feeling in his stomach at the sight of the several underwear – even in the darkness – makes him wonder how long has it been since he’s been intimate with someone. The last time was before school ended, with Mallory, and it was just snogging. He never went all the way... He chuckles discreetly at the thought and taps the ashes of his cigarette on the floor. Fuck this house, fuck this bedroom, and fuck this posh Pureblood family.

‘Mm, mm.’

Someone has cleared their throat behind him. He jumps, and tries to hide the cigarette away.

‘Please, don’t stop for me,’ says a girl in the doorway.

He can’t make up her traits in the darkness, but she sounds young. She steps right in front of him.

‘I don’t think you should be up here,’ she says.

He feels like a child, caught red-handed. He feels suddenly very trapped.

‘I heard the owner of this house is quite severe,’ she adds, taking the cigarette away from him, inhaling the smoke into her lungs, and exhaling. ‘If he found us in his daughter’s room, I think he’d torture us without any remorse.’

‘His daughter’s room?’ he replies nervously.

She nods, giving him back his cigarette.

‘A real pest.’

There is an awkward silence.

‘What were you doing here?’ she adds.

‘Looking for a way out,’ he replies in all honesty. ‘What about you?’

‘Just about the same.’ She glances at the cigarette. ‘You might want to put it out now.’

‘I really don’t,’ he replies, taking one last whiff, ‘but when do I get what I want anyway?’

He throws it on the hard-wood floor indifferently and follows the stranger in the hallway. She turns around to take a good look at him.

‘I’m Y/N, by the way – ‘

He feels like his legs are going to flinch. He doesn’t know if it’s the sudden nicotine rush, or the champagne mixed with the whiskey, or the lights in the hallway shinning over Y/N’s green doe eyes staring at him, or her long black hair waving on her back, or her delicious pink lips, or the gentle freckles on her nose, but he’s suddenly feeling quite light-headed.

‘You okay there?’ she laughs. ‘What’s your name?’

He shakes his head, trying to regain his thoughts.

‘I’m, er. I’m Si – ‘should he really tell her his real name? ‘I’m Sid.’

‘Sid,’ she repeats. ‘Well, Sid, you don’t look too good.’

‘I don’t feel too good,’ he admits.

Her expression changes. She’s not amused anymore. She’s pitying him.

‘Follow me,’ she says, grabbing his hand like she has known him forever, dragging him to the end of the wall where they cross a door and end up on a small balcony overlooking the deserted garden.

‘How to you know this place?’ he asks, resting his arms on the guardrail, humming the fresh crisp air.

‘Hung out with the pest earlier,’ she replies.

‘Not anymore?’

‘Told you, she’s a pest. I can’t leave, though. I’m sort of stuck here.’

‘So am I.’

She laughs lightly. The moonlight shines on her beautiful face, and her traits are so soft, and if he was much more like himself, he’d try to charm her the way he knows how.

‘So, Sid. What are we avoiding?’ she asks away.

‘My parents, I guess,’ he replies, taking out the flask of whiskey of his pocket.

He takes a big sip and hands it to her. She considers it for a moment and grabs it. The wind flies through her hair, and her perfume reaches his nostrils, a perfectly well-balanced mix of vanilla and gentle notes of citrus. The fragrance shoots up his nose and wafts around his brain. Fuck, she’s so beautiful.

‘What about them?’ she asks away, wincing when she swallows the liquor.

He snorts. He doesn’t want to talk about his parents right now. Not when the prettiest girl he’s ever seen is standing right in front of him. He has something else on his mind now.

‘Your accent,’ he says, switching subjects. ‘It’s not from here.’

Y/N nods.

‘I grew up all over the place, but mostly America.’

‘You don’t sound American.’

She smiles, revealing a straight row of perfectly pearly white teeth.

‘My family, we’re from Sicily.’

He nods.

‘It’s in Italy – ‘

‘I know where Sicily is, I’m not stupid,’ he replies harshly, a bit offended.

But Y/N chuckles lightly, and her soft laugh brings his attitude down. He can’t help but stare at her. She’s a bit overdressed to his taste, but hey, so is he. He wonders what is hiding underneath that navy dress of hers, and if her skin is as soft as he imagines it is. He needs to calm down.

‘First time in London, then?’

She nods.

‘What do you think?’ he asks, locking eyes with her.

She licks her lower lip without realizing it.

‘Well, I don’t hate the accent,’ she teases.

Praised be Godric.

‘Tell me, Sid, you seem to be about my age, yet you’re drunk like an old man with a drinking problem, and you probably smoke like a city boy. I keep wondering if I really should be alone with you right now.’

‘Are you afraid?’ he asks.

She shakes her head.

‘Rarely.’

‘To be honest, Y/N,’ he says, pronouncing every syllable of her name like he could actually taste it, ‘I was alone up there to find a quiet spot for this.’

He shows up the joint between his fingers. She squints for a short moment and smiles.

‘I see.’

Y/N’s eyes bored into him. He wonders if he has crossed a line. He barely knows her, after all.

‘Let’s go somewhere more private, then,’ she suggests, grabbing his hand. He doesn’t even have the time to appreciate the softness of her skin when he feels himself disapparating, his body swirling in every direction, and a sudden urge of panic takes hold off him. When he reapparates in a loud pop, he shouts:

‘What the hell are you doing? Are you bloody insane?’

‘What, did you never apparate before?’

‘Yes, I did but -,’ he is freaking out, Walburga must think he’s left and is probably fulminating. ‘My mother, she’s going to hex me! Bring us back!’

‘Why?’ Eliana asks, intrigued. ‘How would she know?’

Sirius shakes his head nervously.

‘She placed some sort of charm on me, I’m not allowed to leave her sight. If she knows I left the premises, she’ll find me and – ‘

He stops himself from saying too much. Perhaps it would be a bit intense to share with the girl what would Walburga do to him. At least, he wouldn’t have to explain the healing bruises on his ribcage.

‘Relax, Sid. We’re still on the premises.’

He looks around and spots the house in the distance through a small window. Are they in some sort of guest house? A garden shed? There is nothing around him, he’s just standing on a mat. Relieved, he sits down, running a hand in his hair. Y/N joins him and creates a small fire by flicking her wand, enough to dimly light the room they are in.

‘You’re actually scared of your parents. Why?’

Sirius chuckles. He’s not scared, he’s terrified of them. She points out the little stick he forgot he was holding between his fingers.

‘Shall we?’ she suggests.

‘Who says I want to share?’

She pouts adorably. He lights it up and he takes a good breath of the substance and exhales slowly, indulging the heavy smoke, his lungs burning, and a light sensation rushes to his head. Them Muggles can also do magic, he thinks to himself. Under her curious eyes, he passes the stick in her delicate hands, and observes her. Her delicious lips reach it, and she slowly breathes it in. She starts coughing, tears running to her eyes.

‘Wait,’ he laughs, ‘is this your first time?’

She presses her hand to her rounded chest, laughing uncontrollably. Sirius shakes his head, following her laugh, and explains to her how to actually get the smoke to her lungs.

‘There, yes – keep it still a second, let it -, yes, good,’ it’s like teaching children how to mount a broom, ‘and exhale. Brilliant.’

He waits a second before taking another whiff. Y/N’s mouth curves into a smile and she closes her eyes slowly.

‘Oh,’ she exhales, ‘this is – ‘

‘I know,’ replies Sirius, smiling. ‘I know.’

‘Oh,’ she repeats.

He stares at her, admiring her delicate features. Her eyes are still closed and he sees her falling on her back, completely relaxed. If his mother saw him right now, smoking pot with a random girl he met at this rich guy’s party, she’d have a good reason to use the Cruciatus curse on him for once. Or she’d cut his head before he could say he’s sorry. He decides to join Y/N and rests his back on the floor. He lays his head just beside hers and fixes the ceiling. He feels better now, and it’s not just the drugs.

‘I feel so heavy,’ she says, sliding her hands on her naked arms.

She turns her head and looks at him.

‘Do you feel heavy?’

‘Kind of,’ he laughs.

He doesn’t particularly feel heavy. In fact, he feels relieved, and mostly, he feels horny. Good god.

‘What is there to do in London at night?’ she asks.

‘Mm,’ he hesitates. ‘Pubs, clubs, walking around Southbank, I guess.’

‘Never went to a pub,’ she admits.

He wants to run his finger on her cheek. He wants to grab her face and press his lips on hers.

‘You’re kidding,’ he replies, still fixing that beautiful mouth of hers.

She shakes her head lightly, and a stroke of her long hair falls in her eyes. Her little red stained eyes. He smiles at the view, and slowly leans closer, replacing the stroke of black hair behind her ear.

‘I’ll bring you to a pub, one day,’ he mutters, daydreaming out loud.

‘Wouldn’t you mother kill you if you did?’ she jokes.

‘She would. It would be worth the risk, though.’

She turns on her stomach and rests her head on her hands. He keeps staring at her, detailing everything.

‘What are you looking at?’ she chuckles.

‘Just admiring the view,’ he replies frankly.

She would blush if she wasn’t all flustered already. There’s an odd adrenaline spluttering inside of him as he feels her close, and his pulse quickens and he’s feeling so hot right now, he’s melting into the rug. There’s a comfortable silence between them, and they both enjoy it for a couple of minutes. There is something about this girl, this nonchalant attitude, and her mesmerizing eyes, and her accent, and the way her body moves when she finally sits down again, pulling her dress over her thighs to sit comfortably, making him lose his fucking mind. If he weren’t so distracted by her presence, he’d be sweet talking to her, like he’s so used to do with other girls. But he’s simply incapable of doing so, like she’s robbed him of his means.

‘We should go back, they’re going to be looking for us,’ she whispers, showing him her hand to help him sit back.

But he doesn’t want to go back and mingle with the people he hates. He wants to be alone with her, if it is just to stay motionless on this rug in her company. He takes her hand and sits back up, and their eyes lock again, and they stare at each other, and he’s wondering if he’s hallucinating someone so perfect to help him cope with this emptiness he feels all the time. She absentmindedly licks her lips, taunting him, and he has to remind himself how to breathe, as his lips quirk hesitantly, sighing out loud to stop himself from pining her underneath him.

‘Yeah,’ he stutters, like a fucking coward, and then he clears his throat and steadies his pulse and sternly instructs himself to get it together, dude. James would be laughing at him if he saw him right now.

But they both stay there, motionless. He can feel the drugs running away from his bloodstream, he’s on another high now, another rush, and it has nothing to do with it. He can’t stop staring at her lips. Her expression washes over him in waves, and he pins a hesitant smile on his face, hoping it will distract her from the bulge growing down there.

‘Or we could just, you know, stay here for a while,’ she suggests.

For fuck’s sake.

He’s only able to gulp and nod, his cock painfully growing thick through the fabric. He tries to hide the bump by placing his arm over his legs, but instead it catches her attention down there, and her eyes quickly spots it, but she innocently acts like she’s unaware of the effect she has on him. If he could only smack his lips on hers.

Her emerald eyes are wide open, she leans in and presses her soft lips on his, and he’s never felt so relieved in his entire life, her mouth is warm and soft, and he can actually run his hands in her soft hair, and he can hear his heart hammering in his ears, and she actually lets out a discreet moan in his mouth, and fuck, there he is, gone, he knows there is no way back from there.

He feels her hands slowly unbuckling his belt and removing those atrocious trousers, and he follows through, pulling up her dress to reveal her skin. He removes his shirt, he has dreamt all night to rip it off his body from the second he put it on, and now she’s pushing him on his back on the hard rug and places kisses in the crook of his neck, sliding her tongue all the way down, and he knows where she’s heading, but he can’t let her do that, or he’s going to cum already. He grabs her head softly, and while he’s busy sticking his tongue into her mouth, he’s unclasps her top, tosses it on the floor, and starts licking her round breasts, circling her hard nipples with his tongue. He realizes it is actually the first time he’s allowed to touch naked breasts, and Merlin, this is so much better when there’s no fabric covering them.

He pins her small body under him, and he slowly moves down on her. He admires her ribcage moving up and down, and he can hears her heavy breathing, and he feels like he can’t hold it anymore. He runs his lips on her skin, down her stomach, to the birth of her underwear, pulling them down very gently. Sirius can’t believe he just met her a couple of hours ago; he feels like he has been desiring her for an eternity. There was a before her, and there’s now – and all the shit he’s been dealing with since school ended is now tucked away in the back of his mind. He caresses with his lips the soft bump between her legs, indulging the new sensation, and then just takes a mouthful of her sex. Her breathing stops, her ribcage is suspended for a second, and then she breathes out and grabs the back of his head while he tastes her. It’s sweet, and warm, and wet, and salty at the same time, and it’s so fucking good.

She’s squirming and writhing beneath him, her subtle moans amplifying. The gasps she makes sends sparks of unbearable pleasure through him, and he feels dizzy, like his heart is about to explode, ready to jump out of his chest at any moment. He slides one finger into her, and then another, and she spams around his fingers. He observes her perfect body tensing at his touch, cupping one breast with one hand while she orgasms into his mouth, her fluids mixing with his saliva. Her face is flushed and her pupils are dilated, and he could very well be on this high for the rest of his existence. But she places kisses on his lips, tasting herself on him, and his cock is so hard, he can’t help but groan when he feels her hand grabs his sex through the fabric of his underwear, slowly stroking him. It is pure torture.

He feels the small piece of clothing covering him sliding down his legs, and he kicks it on the floor. She stares at him in the eyes and licks her fingers, then moves her hand down there again, gently applying pressure on his hard-on. Sirius’ head tilt to the back, blood rushes through him. That is a different story when it’s someone’s else hand, isn’t?

She lays down in front of him, and he follows her as she guides is cock at the entrance of her sex, and it’s so wet, how is he going to pull through? He’s shaking with apprehension but pure pleasure. She suddenly frowns.

‘Wait,’ she hesitates, ‘is this your first time?’

He nods. There’s so point in lying.

‘Do you want to stop?’

Of course, he doesn’t want to stop. He shakes his head, and her face lits up.

They kiss and he presses the tip of his cock into her, slowly, to get every sensation right, and he closes his eyes and, oh this feels so fucking good, and he can’t help but exhales of relief when he feels the warmth, and he hears her gasping underneath him. He’s sinking into her, and she pushes his length even farther by raising her hips. Why does it feel so good? He starts to pace inside her, like he has known what to do forever, increasing the tempo, and she moans under him. He moves swiftly now, trying with all his might to not just release himself off the pressure. She throws her head back into the rug, he feels sweat pearling at the birth of his forehead, his locks fall into his eyes, and he accelerates his pace and presses her legs on her stomach, and oh my god, this is even better.

She presses her right hand on his chest, running her fingers over his hard stomach, avoiding the bruises, detailing each parcel of his body. She looks back up and pushes her lips on his, and their tongues meet, and he’s completely melting into her. She finally bucks her hips tightly and Sirius hisses, he can’t hold up anymore. Oh, he wants to hear her say his name – if only he had given his real one – but she lets a loud ‘fuck’ escape her mouth, and she’s damp with sweat, and he never seen something so beautiful, he slams into her harder and faster, he groans while his grip tightens around her delicate waist. He feels almost he’s in pain and something stronger than life itself is burning him; yes, he’s burning up down there, he can’t hold it anymore, his whole body is on fire, he glances at her one last time, and he lets out a guttural growl, while feeling his insides pushing his soul out, and for a short moment, he thinks he’s dying, spilling his warm seed into her, filling her up while’s he petrified, hanging between dream and reality, thinking his heart stopped beating.

It is only half an hour later that he comes back to the manor, flustered and feeling out of his body, followed by Y/N. She’s even prettier under the warm lights, blushed cheeks, and he relives in his mind what just happened over and over again. That wasn’t bad for a first time, he thinks.

‘Y/N! Papà has been looking for you forever, where were you?’, a young girl is staring at her.

She shares similar traits with Y/N, but she looks younger, about Regulus’ age. Her arms are crossed, and she observes Sirius oddly, in a manner that makes him believe she can easily guess what Y/N was doing all the time they’ve been away.

‘Where is he?’ asks Y/N.

The young girl points at the host, the man he shook hands with earlier, speaking with Sirius’ father and a couple of older men in the corner of the room.

‘Clara,’ mumbles Y/N with a threatening expression. ‘non dire niente a Papà.’

The young girl rolls her eyes and leaves them. Sirius frowns. Wait a minute, is this girl...

‘Didn’t you tell me the host’s daughter was -’ he mumbles, feeling his hands becoming moist.

‘A pest,’ she smiles. ‘My sister.’

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well-its-not-human-anymore · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! Could I get HC from the guys? 👀 How they would always react to catching the reader seeing them "badly", in addition to the fact that he usually avoids them, but with his brothers it is incredible and they feel bad because they think they do not like him. But she actually likes them and she looks at them like that because she "studies" them to draw them and she is too clumsy and shy to talk to them, that's why she ends up avoiding them. Until finally he catches her drawing them with lots of hearts or maybe they'll find her notebook with lots of portraits of them.

It's kind of funny because when I study people to draw them, they think that I look at them with hatred xd maybe I should increase my glasses prescription

God, glasses are such a pain in the ass but I have to wear them. If I don't anyone within my near vicinity doesn't have a face. But why they gotta get dirty so easily???? Makes me wanna explode or something

TMNT Headcanons

The boys w/ a quiet reader who is fine with his brothers but acts cold around him and stares a lot

Michaelangelo

mikey couldn't describe his disappointment upon realizing that you didn't want to be friends with him

well, you never actually said that to him

but he was pretty sure it was the case

you'd never made an effort to be friends with him

stared at him an awful lot though, but there was always something off about your gaze when you looked at him

like you were sizing him up, scrutinizing him, like he was an opponent

it kinda worried him

to add to that, you didn't even attempt to look embarrassed when he caught you staring

you'd just stare harder

on your end it was quite the opposite

you always found the brothers fascinating and you LOVED studying their anatomy, you'd confessed this to Donnie early on and he happily indulged in your questions

and you loved how easily you got along with the boys

well, except for Mikey

but it wasn't for a lack of trying

whenever the orange sporting turtle came around your normally flamboyant personality crept back into its little corner and hid

any words of excitement that had previously been with you died in your throat

for the longest time you didn't understand it

and you hated not understanding things, so you turned to your only outlet

that's how you ended up with an entire sketchbook full of the youngest brother in vastly different styles and poses

you had a separate book for the others, none of them as detailed as this

and when you stared to analyze you'd fallen into a habit of not looking away when caught

by your logic, if you stared back hard enough he'd look away first or just assume you'd zoned out

he didn't

and on one hectic day you'd left your sketchbook open on the kitchen table in your rush to get to work

you hadn't even noticed the slip up until Leo texted you to let you know during your shift

instant panic

in truth, Mikey was the one who discovered the book upon waking up from his nap and he'd spent the next three hours analyzing every drawing

when you finally dropped in after work to grab your book the turtle was waiting for you with it in hand

he'd asked you if you hated him

you told him no and accepted your sketchbook from him

he was relieved and screaming excitedly, just in his head

"Do you maybe wanna hang out sometime?"

You sighed in relief and nodded

"If you're cool with it- you don't think I'm weird do you?"

"I mean- you are talking to a turtle..."

you lightly shoved his chest and smiled, although it faded within a second

"Oh hush, 10 o'clock tomorrow? I'll bring snacks."

he was so stunned he could only shoot you finger guns in approval

Donatello

Donnie genuinely couldn't understand your unease around him

he'd followed all the proper expectations of holding a conversation

he was polite and engaging

so why wouldn't you talk to him?

this boy has read so many social blogs to try and figure out what he was doing wrong and he just couldn't put his finger on it

you were fine with the rest of his brothers, you'd stay up for hours laughing and gaming with them

you'd even sat still long enough to listen to Leo explain some old Japanese myth that he'd read about in a book

but with him it was always a quick, cordial greetings and farewells with bland small talk in between

Donnie had picked up pretty quickly that you weren't interested in any sort of interaction with him

and he convinced himself that that was okay

but that didn't explain the staring

he'd caught you in the act several times, eyes narrowed and locked on him

especially when you were alone with him in a room or just in the lair

the poor turtle just couldn't put his finger on it

then he caught you drawing, he noticed early on that you always carried a small sketchbook on your person but he didn't think much of it

and it wasn't so much that he caught you drawing, in fact, he wouldn't have noticed if you hadn't snapped at him while he was trying to do a sudoku puzzle

"Damn it Donnie! Stop moving! If I fuck this arm up one more time I'm gonna decompose!"

he'd quickly moved back into the position he was in prior

"sorry?"

but you'd gone silent again, occasionally glancing up from your work and running your eyes along his frame before looking down again

nearly twenty minutes later Donnie had finished the puzzle and it seemed as though you had finished your drawing

"Uh- can I ask what are you-"

"I'm drawing you but you kept moving your arm and making me mess up. You always do that when I draw you so every damn picture I have of you stays a sketch because you always come out looking like a fucking octopus."

He just stared

"Sorry, I uh- I didn't mean to explode on you like that. I'm just- I'm really bad at talking to you okay? It's so easy with everyone else but you've just gotta be so damn smart all the time and I worry that you'll think I'm boring so I just... don't talk to you?"

Donnie is stunned™

You refuse to show him the drawing until you can complete the line art and color it

But at least he knows that you don't hate him

Leonardo

To be completely honest Leo didn't mind that you were distant from him

You created an aura of calm when you were around and you always managed to distract his brothers while you were present

And he enjoyed the alone time

But after a few months that calm acceptance turned into jealousy

Not that he would ever admit it

He would just push it off and ignore it, that usually seemed to work

So why wasn't it?

And your obvious staring problem didn't help at all

Leo didn't spend much time considering his appearance but something about your gaze made him self conscious

And he hated that with a passion

Why was it that you could hold entire debates with his siblings? Even his dad for gods sake. You'd have hour long conversations on almost everything but whenever he tried to say hello you'd make up some lame ass excuse and scamper away

He just wanted an explanation

It appeared that the answer resided in your sketchbook

You'd left it open on the couch when Raph had called you away to spar with him

Leo very delicately flipped through the pages, careful not to disturb some of the polaroid pictures of his brothers

He was admittedly surprised to find pictures of himself among the pages

One of him in a handstand, another of him meditating, there was even one of him mid sneeze that you'd recreated with pencil and paper

The image of his eyes was the most startling, but the book held no polaroid of his eyes

You drew them from memory

And he was shocked when you returned to the room and didn't immediately panic

But that might have been because he didn't try to withhold your book from you

"It took me three months to color them, your eyes. I could never get the shade of blue just right."

"I'm gonna be honest with you y/n, I really thought you didn't like me."

You had the nerve to roll your eyes and follow it with a laugh

"I don't. I mean- I do but no, you just remind me a lot of myself and I haven't exactly figured out why yet. I thought that maybe if I drew you it'd be easier to figure you out..."

"Well did it help?"

You grinned

"I'm talking to you, aren't I?"

Raphael

If there was one thing Raph hated it was not understanding something that was right in front of him

which is ironic, as a much younger version of himself probably couldn't care less

and a part of him wishes he didn't care about it so much

he wishes that your blatant avoidance of him didn't upset him

but shit, it got under his skin better than any needle ever could

was it too much to ask for you to just tell him what he said or did wrong?

was he asking too much of you?

but on the same scale you'd never shown obvious dislike towards him, you were never rude and you sure as hell didn't talk shit about him to his brothers

you got along great with them

in fact it was getting more difficult to remember a time before you became a part of his family

he'd become so used to your presence that it no longer put him off when he found you hanging around the lair

but in another sense he was certain that you hadn't spoken more than three sentences to him in your time knowing him or his family

so what was the reason

several months in he finally caught onto the staring, your narrow, glassy gaze locked onto his body and refusing to look away

he stared right back at you

this annoyed you for several reasons

because within five seconds your very peaceful drawing session had turned into a staring contest and your eyes were getting VERY dry

then you exhaled in a half-sigh and looked back down at your paper

"Huh, I guess your head is more of an oblong shape..."

he took offense to this

"What tha' hell is that supposed t'mean?"

now your eyes held more of an amused silent judgement, you begrudgingly held up your sketchbook

"I'm drawing you, you fucking walnut."

"Oh..."

now you rolled you eyes and tossed the book to him, he nearly dropped it and fumbled with the pages

your annoyance was quickly growing

"Careful with that."

He flipped through the pages at a snails pace, assumingly because he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing

you had some real talent

when he looked back up at you he was wearing that crooked smile

"and here I was thinkin' that my eyes were just green."

Hope I was able to get this down pretty well! I really enjoyed writing this one! Thanks for the patience!

-Mars 🌠

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt headcanons #tmnt x reader #writing blog #writing requests #askbox #ask response #tmnt leonardo #tmnt donatello #tmnt raphael #tmnt michelangelo

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expectingtofly · 3 years ago

Text

Claire Novak's (Surprisingly) Not-So-Lame Day

this fic is written for @dean-has-great-taste as part of @starrynightdeancas' gift exchange. thanks sophie for organizing this, it was a lot of fun <33 and i hope you enjoy this, gen!!

*****

How did Claire find herself joining Dean, Cas, and Jack for an excursion to the mall?

Well.

Cas had texted her yesterday, with an extreme amount of emojis and emoticons that took some time to decipher, asking if she wanted to go shopping with him, Dean, and Jack. Apparently Jack needed new clothes and they needed a gift for Eileen’s birthday coming up, and maybe they could go bowling or something afterwards.

And normally she would’ve said no way because hanging out with old guys was lame and she didn’t like little kids, but she needed an excuse to get out of Jody and Donna’s weekend plans of cleaning out the garage. Plus, Kaia needed to study for a test—she actually enjoyed school, the weirdo—and had requested no distractions.

So that’s how she found herself sitting in the back of the Impala next to a carseat, listening to one of Dean’s old cassette tapes (which wasn’t too bad, but she’d never admit it).

“What’s that?” Jack asked, stretching against his carseat straps to jab at one of the pins Claire wore on her leather jacket.

“It’s the lesbian flag,” she told him. Cas looked back at them from the front seat, smiling.

“This one?” Jack pointed to the rainbow pin on her pocket.

“It’s the pride flag.”

Jack considered that for a moment before announcing, “I want one. And this one.” He pointed to the mothman pin on her lapel, then the big-eyed, green alien. “And this one... and this one, and this one.” (Alex said she had more pins than leather on her jacket, but sue her, she liked making her clothing her own).

Jack, it seemed, also liked… unique clothing. The kid was wearing rain boots even though the sun was out and overalls with embroidered flowers. He dressed weird, there was no way around it. But so did Cas, so there was probably no hope for him, poor kid.

“Okay,” she decided. “I know where to get you some.”

Jack beamed and swung his legs. “Don’t kick the seat,” Dean told him, and Jack pouted at him.

Claire was surprised Dean even let a carseat in his precious Impala. Pulling out her phone, she asked, “Can we listen to my music?”

Dean started to respond with a “Hell no,” but Cas spoke up first, “Of course.”

Dean spluttered as Claire connected to the bluetooth connector Sam had finally convinced Dean to install. The old man didn’t realize it was the 21st century, apparently.

“I wanna listen to Gaga!” Jack said, leaning over to look at her phone.

At first she thought that was some baby talk, then she realized Jack was into pop music. Ugh. But it would annoy Dean, so...

Leaning in conspiratorially with Jack, she let him scroll through her phone and choose which song to play. When “Born This Way” started filtering through the car, Dean groaned.

“Really?” he asked, sending her a glare in the rearview mirror. Mission accomplished.

Jack clapped along and Cas turned the music up louder. “Great choice, Jack,” he said.

Dean, for all his grumbling, didn’t turn down the music, and Claire caught him glancing at Cas, who tapped his fingers on his thigh to the beat. Dean looked like he was fighting back a smile and Claire rolled her eyes. Dude was so whipped.

When they parked at the mall, Cas grabbed Jack’s hand before he could sprint across the parking lot. “You have to look both ways,” he reminded him gently, and Jack nodded.

“Claire’s gonna buy me pins,” he said, jumping onto the curb.

“Yup.” Claire pat her jacket pocket. “Good ol’ credit card fraud.”

“Woah, now,” Dean started to protest.

“You and Sam are the ones who taught me!” Claire reminded him.

“We’ll pay for them,” Cas said, opening the door to the mall. Jack skipped inside, his rain boots squeaking on the tiled floor.

“We’re doing what now?” Dean asked Cas, taking his hand. Gross.

“Come on, Jack,” Claire said, catching up to the toddler. “Let’s go get you some style.” Over her shoulder, she called, “Meet up with you guys later.”

“Have fun!” Cas called.

“Don’t get kidnapped,” Dean added.

As they distanced themselves from the old geezers, Jack grabbed her hand, and Claire startled a little. “Do you like dinosaurs?” he asked.

Someone passing by gave them a smile, and Claire realized people probably thought Jack was her younger brother. She let him hold her hand anyway. “Sure.”

“What’s your favorite? Mine is the bon-ta-sore-us.” He sounded out the word carefully.

“Don’t know. What’s the one with the spiky horns?”

“Ti-ce-a-tops?”

“Yeah, that sounds cool.”

“That’s my second favorite!” He started jumping from one colored tile to the next. “And the T-Rex. That’s Dee’s favorite. And Dad likes the steg-a-sore-us.” He peered up at her. “Did you know he got to see dinosaurs? Right in front of him!”

“You know what that means, right?” He shook his head. “He’s super old. He’s basically a dinosaur himself.”

Jack’s eyes widened. “He’s a dinosaur,” he repeated in a hushed whisper.

“Yup.” Spotting Hot Topical, she headed that way. “You should tell him that.”

Inside the store, Jack let go of her hand to grab a stuffed cat. “Claire! Like yours!”

Claire rolled her eyes. “Yeah.” So, she still had the Grumpy Cat Cas had bought her. She wasn’t cruel enough to throw it away when the guy was trying so hard to make up for walking around in her dead dad’s body. Plus, the stuffed animal was kinda cute. Not that she was going to tell anyone that.

“Here ya go,” she told Jack, finding a box of pins at the register. She brought the box down to his level and Jack ran over to look inside.

“I want a Doc McStuffins pin,” he said, plunging his hand into the box.

“I don’t know if they have those.”

As they rooted through the box of pins, she heard familiar voices and looked up to see Dean and Cas walking inside.

“What are you guys doing here?” she asked.

“I like this store,” Cas said and Dean rolled his eyes. Among the pleather and black, Cas’ dingy old trench coat—over a Winnie the Pooh sweatshirt instead of a suit—and Dean’s ratty flannel and boots only looked more ridiculous. She took it back—even Jack dressed better than them.

“You guys don’t have to be in here,” she told them.

“What, we’re too old?” Dean asked defensively.

“Yeah, actually.”

Cas poked at a toy and it squeaked. God, could they be any more embarrassing?

“Dad!” Jack called, holding out a rainbow pin. “Look, they have soo many.” Cas joined Jack in going through the pins and Claire asked Dean, giving his outfit a meaningful look,

“Was the Army Surplus store too trendy for you?”

“Did they kick you out of Sephora for buying up all the eyeliner?“ Dean shot back.

Touché. In a truce, she held out a pin with the bisexual flag. She wasn’t really sure what Dean identified as, if he even gave it any thought, but guessed it was close enough. “For you.”

Dean rolled his eyes but took it. “I’m not weighing down my jacket with this crap, though.”

“No, ‘course not, that would mean having any sort of style.”

“Can I help you with anything?” asked an employee with two nose rings and jewelry up and down their ears— so cool. Claire saw the way their eyes flicked between them, probably thinking they made a weird group, and she took a step back, trying to silently communicate that yes, she was shopping with them, but no, she was not as lame as them.

“Just looking,” Dean told them.

“I like your drawings,” Jack said and the employee looked down at their arms which were littered with tattoos.

“Thanks.”

“My dad has a drawing. It’s Enochian.”

The employee—Wren, by the name tag—looked at Cas with new respect in their eyes. “Language of the angels. Sick.”

Cas looked pleased. “Thank you. It’s come in handy more than once.”

The employee went back to looking confused and, starting to walk away, told them to call if they needed anything.

“Do you want anything?” Cas asked Claire, and Claire looked through the box. She grabbed a pentagram pin and, seeming to copy her, Jack grabbed another one, clutching several pins already in his fists.

“You like bees, right?” Claire asked Cas, spotting a “Save the Bees” pin. She held it up for him.

Cas’ eyes brightened. “That’s a wonderful message.” He glanced back at Dean and frowned. “Dean, they’re not going to bite.”

Claire looked over to see Dean shying away from a few emo teens. “Look like it,” Dean muttered, joining them. Jack lifted up his hands, asking to be hoisted up. Dean set him on his hip and Jack showed him the pins he’d selected. He held a dinosaur pin to Dean’s collar.

“Do you want one, Dee?”

“He’s too lame,” Claire piped up. Not for the first time, she noticed the healed over piercing mark on Dean’s right ear and pointed to it. “Looks like he used to be cool, though.”

“Yeah, guess so,” Dean said dryly. His hand went to his earlobe. “Pierced it myself, in high school.”

“I think you’re still cool,” Cas told him, and Claire fake-gagged, making Jack giggle.

Cas took the pins to the cash register where Wren rang them up. Dean added the bisexual flag pin and Claire threw in a pair of spiky earrings, because, hey, they were paying.

“15.36,” Wren told them, dropping the pins into a bag.

“My dad’s a dinosaur,” Jack told them, trying to see over the edge of the counter. Wren raised an eyebrow, Cas looked surprised, and Claire stifled a laugh.

“Claire, help me,” Jack said, grabbing the bag from Cas as they exited the store. Moving to the side, Claire helped him attach the pins to his overalls. A smiley face, a pride flag, a grinning Stitch, a sunflower, a dinosaur, and the pentagram. The pins clacked as Jack tugged at his overalls, trying to look at them all. Overall, a chaotic look, but it kinda matched his vibe.

“Lookin’ good,” she told him, and Jack beamed.

“I’m like you!”

Alright, she wouldn’t take it that far, but, “Yeah, close enough.”

Cas attached the “Save the Bees” pins to his trench coat pocket and it ended up crooked. Rolling her eyes, Claire said, “Let me.”

She reattached the pin and stepping back to look it over, decided, “You could actually make that coat look cool if you added more stuff to it.”

Cas looked down at himself. “Thank you.”

“Nothing’s gonna save that sweatshirt, though.” Couldn’t let his ego get too big.

“Dean said he liked it,” Cas said, glancing back at Dean, who was shooting an evil eye at Claire. He quickly wiped it off his face and draped an arm over Cas’ shoulders.

“Yeah, it’s uh… Charming.” He guided Cas away from Claire. “Don’t listen to her, she still thinks sarcasm is a personality trait.”

“Screw you, old man,” she called. Jack skipped after them and she checked her phone to see Kaia had texted her: How’s everything going? They drive you crazy yet?

They’re so weird, she texted back. Then she added, They’re not too bad.

“Come on, Jack,” she said, hurrying to catch up with him, Dean, and Cas. “Let’s go get our ears pierced.”

“Yay!” Jack cheered. He grabbed her hand and tugged her down the mall.

“Woah, woah, you’re not doing that,” Dean protested like the wet blanket he was.

“You can get yours pierced too,” Claire told him, and he faltered,

“I don’t want, we’re not—“

“You know you want to.” She let Jack lead her away and Dean called after them,

“We're never bringing you shopping again!”

Grinning, she turned to shout over her shoulder, “You know you love me!”

#starrynightdeancas gift exchange #established dean/cas #claire novak #toddler jack #dadstiel #fic #spn #expectingtoflywrites #im gonna post this on ao3 as soon as i figure out a summary lol

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triptuckers · 3 years ago

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New In Town (part two) - Kaz Brekker

Request: nope Pairing: Kaz Brekker x reader Summary: you're exploring ketterdam and happen to overhear an interesting conversation Warnings: none Word count: 2.6K A/N: ketterdam my beloved <3 <3 <3 PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART TAG LIST (all grishaverse fics): @ayushmitadutta @mrs-brekker15@dancingwith-sunflowers @thegirlwiththeimpala @parker-natasha@story-scribbler@romanoffstarkovs @daliareads @meiitanoia @itsnotquimey @sanktaesperanza@whymyparentscheckmyphone@aleksanderwh0r3 @ilovemarvelanne1 @marlenaisnthappy @tomridlessecretvampiredemigod TAG LIST (Kaz Brekker): @mufnasa @janesofia7 @stairscortana add yourself to my tag lists here (bold means I couldn't tag you for some reason!)

You spend the first weeks wandering around the city, getting to know the streets, canals, and its secrets. Every morning you wake up early to leave the pub when the regulars aren't there yet.

You like Ketterdam in the morning. It seemed like everyone collectively decided to sleep in every day. When walking the empty streets, you feel like the city belongs to you, even though you only arrived a couple of weeks ago.

During your short stay, you couldn't help but to develop some habits and routines. Normally, you made sure no one could figure out your habits and favorite spots, but somehow you felt like nobody in Ketterdam cared enough to pay attention to an outsider like you.

Especially when said outsider definitely didn't look rich.

Your clothes had worn out, because you hadn't taken your bag with you and had spent all of your money on rent for your room. But the owner of the building had agreed to give you a job at the pub.

You made a little money on the nights you worked as a bartender. You saved part of it, and spend part of it on clothes. First was a shirt, that was slightly too big but at least it didn't have stains on it or holes in it.

Next up was a new pair of pants. You picked them out carefully, buying one with wide legs so you could easily hide your weapons. It also has a lot of pockets, which was useful as well.

You then bought a new coat. It was a long, black coat. Perfect for wrapping it tightly around you and disappearing into the shadows during the nights you were on the streets.

Your boots weren't worn out just yet, so you hadn't spend money on a new pair. You kept your old clothes at the room, in case you needed a change of clothes. Old ones were better than no clothes at all.

With every piece of clothing you bought, you felt more like you had been in Ketterdam for a long time. Part of you felt like you needed to blend in, and buying Kerch clothes was a perfect way to do so.

You wake up on a particular sunny day. At first, you're excited to spend the day walking around the city, exploring the outer edges of the city.

But your good mood soon disappears when you remember you have an extra long shift to work at the pub today.

It's not like you particularly enjoy working at the pub. Most of the guests seem to think they can do anything to you when they're drunk.

The regulars know not to mess with you, but the new customers weren't around to witness you break three fingers of a guy who put his hand on your waist.

Even though less people messed with you now, there are still some who believe they can convince you to have a drink with them. You always have to smile and politely refuse, telling them you're working.

You'd much rather work your usual jobs, but you had yet to find out how to get someone to notice you. You didn't trust the gangs - yet. Simply because you didn't know enough about them.

Sure, you had the guts to march into whatever their main building was, but if you didn't have any dirt on them, it wouldn't be very useful. Besides, you'd much rather watch them try to anxiously get you to forget the information you had gathered.

You loved to have your clients beg for their pride when they double crossed you, or hadn't paid you enough. But you didn't dare to walk into a house full of trained gang members simply because your job at the pub was dull.

It was boring, and your skills were useless, but at least you got paid. It was just enough to cover the rent of the room, but a little money is still better than none at all.

If you could just find out some more information on the different gangs, you'd be able to join one of them, using the secrets you discover as leverage.

It's not like you had always wanted to join a gang. But the streets of Ketterdam are more dangerous than the ones in Ravka or Fjerda. Being part of a gang provided protection. You knew no one would touch you if you were part of a gang. Except maybe members of rival gangs, but you could handle those.

But for now, you're stuck serving rich tourists and drunk regulars.

Though it was a boring job and nothing exciting really happened, you did learn a lot by listening to their conversations. Gang members didn't often come to the pub, but guards, merchant's servants and advisors, people of the Stadwatch and other interesting people did.

You'd already learned a great deal about them by listening to their conversations. As someone who worked at the pub, you could come closer without any of them getting suspicious.

If only some gang members came in for a drink, you'd be able to listen in on their conversations as well. But you figured they'd have their own clubs, or other pubs they like to go to.

After a quick breakfast and a morning walk in the sun, you're already back at the pub, getting ready to start your shift.

Luckily, there aren't many people in the pub this early. You spend your time washing glasses, occasionally serving people, tiding up the place.

Around noon, it starts to get busier. But that's also when more people start their shifts, so you don't have to do all of it on you own. Even though it's busier the later the hour gets, it's still boring to you.

The same people are there and they order the same drinks, making the same lame jokes, hoping to make you laugh. The best you can do is a forced smile which disappears as soon as you turn your back on them.

When your shift is almost over, you're standing behind the bar. You're cleaning the glasses people used today, trying not to zone out as you stare at the open doors on the other side of the pub.

People are laughing and talking loudly, but it all seems oddly far away from you.

Suddenly, your coworker nudges your shoulder and gestures with her head to the entrance.

'They're not regulars, are they?' she says.

You look at the people she pointed out. Two boys around your age walked in the pub. One of them is tall, curls falling down on his forehead, and there's a grin on his face.

The other one is shorter, leaning on a cane and dressed head to toe in black, as if he's going to attend a funeral. Unlike the other boy, he doesn't have a smile on his face. Instead, he walks to the nearest table and sits down, signalling to the bar.

Your coworker wants to approach them, but you're faster.

'I've got this one.' you say with a smile.

You didn't see many people like this in your pub, and your curiosity got the better of you. Besides, you hadn't seen them in the city, making you believe they are from the parts of the city you rarely go to.

And since it's not weird for a bartender to make small talk, you approach them with a smile.

'Good evening!' you say cheerfully. 'How can I help you today?'

'Hello love!' says the taller boy as he returns your smile. 'I'll have a beer.'

'Great choice.' you say.

You turn to the other one, quickly scanning him up and down and noticing he's wearing gloves. Which seems odd, since it's such a nice sunny day. But then again, there are a lot of odd people in Ketterdam.

'And what can I get you, sir?' you say.

Just as he looks at you and wants to answer you, the taller boy speaks up again.

'You don't have to call us sir, you know, we're basically the same age.' he says.

'And how would you know that?' you say.

'I'm a good gambler.' he says, leaning back in his chair.

You see how the other boy raises his eyebrows at him.

'He's not a good gambler.' he says. 'I'm good.'

'You sure you don't want anything to drink?' you say, deciding to see if you can find out more about them. 'You're in a pub after all, and we've got some good stuff.'

'I'm good.' he says again, more firmly, indicating you don't have to ask again.

'Alright then.' you say. You turn to the taller boy again. 'I'll come back shortly, with your beer.'

'Thanks.' he says with a wink.

You smile at him and walk back to the bar. You notice your coworker was a little too late to subtly look away.

'What were you talking about?' she asks.

'What they want to drink.' you simply say, reaching out to take a beer and open it.

'And?' she presses on.

'And that's it. The other one didn't want anything to drink.' you say.

'Why's he dressed like that?' she says.

You shrug. 'Tell me the answer when you ask him.' you say.

You walk back to the two and notice how they quickly cut off their conversation. With a smile, you set the beer down in front of the tall boy.

'There you go.' you say. 'Enjoy.'

He thanks you, and you turn to the dark-haired boy again.

'Are you sure I can't get you something?' you say.

He briefly shakes his head. You turn back to the taller boy again. Apparently, he's the talkative one.

'So, you're a gambler?' you say to him.

'I can't say no to a game of cards every now and then.' he says.

Before you can ask him another question, the other boy speaks up again.

'Jesper, cut the small talk.' he says.

So the taller one was called Jesper, that's at least a start.

The tall one, Jesper, looks offended. 'I can have a conversation, Kaz, relax.' he says. He turns back to you. 'You a gambler?' he says.

You shake your head. 'I never really understood it. And I haven't gotten a chance to go to one of the gambling halls yet.' you say.

'You should tag along some time, I can teach you the basics.' says Jesper.

'That would be amazing.' you say, surprised at how easy it is to get Jesper to engage in a conversation. You wonder what else you can learn about him.

Unfortunately, a large group of tourists enter the pub, loudly telling you to come and take their orders. You don't bother to hide the disgust and annoyance on your face.

'Looks like I'll have to pass. I'm working, after all.' you say. 'Let me know if I can get you guys anything else.'

'You got it.' says Jesper as you walk over to the large group of tourists.

Of all the people that stopped by for a drink, you loathed tourists the most. They always seemed to think that if they were in a different country, basic rules about human decency didn't apply.

They're loudly shouting their orders at you and as you walk back to the bar to get their drinks, you can feel their eyes on you. No doubt they were talking about you.

You bring them their drinks with a forced smile, ignoring their horrible flirting. The second you turn your back on them, you let your smile disappear. You then catch Jesper's eye, who had been looking at your encounter with the tourists.

'Tourists are all the same.' you say as you walk up to him to retrieve his empty beer glass.

'They look nice.' he tries.

'They're assholes.' you say. 'Every tourist that comes in here thinks because I'm a bartender they can shamelessly flirt with me and pull me closer. But they give excellent tips, so I can't really complain.'

'If you don't like serving them, why not get a different job?' asks Jesper.

'Because I need the money.' you say. 'Don't really have a lot of choice. Can I get you anything else?'

'Another beer, please.' he says.

'Jesper.' says the other boy.

You turn to look at him, you almost forgot he was there. Jesper had taken off his coat, but Kaz was still wearing his long black coat and gloves.

'No more drinks, I need you sober for this.' says Kaz.

'Okay, dad.' says Jesper. 'He never lets me do anything fun.' he then whispers to you, loud enough for Kaz to hear.

'I'll leave you two to it, then.' you say.

You walk away from their table to clean a table of a couple who just left the bar. Normally, you'd do a quick sweep and head back to serving customers.

But something about Jesper and Kaz has gotten your attention. Jesper seems like a cheerful, fun person to be around. Kaz, on the other hand, looks like he hasn't smiled in his entire life. You wondered why they would go to a pub together.

You take out a piece of cloth and start to slowly clean the table, but focusing on Jesper and Kaz behind you. They're talking in such hushed voices, you're having a hard time understanding them.

But you do manage to hear a few sentences of their conversation.

'We enter as guards, Nina, Matthias and Inej go in disguised as party guests.' says Kaz in a low voice.

'Why can't I be a party guest as well?' says Jesper.

'Because we can't afford you to drink and flirt, we need to to confirm that diamond necklace is the real thing.' says Kaz. 'So we move quickly and don't attract too much attention.'

'Fine.' says Jesper. 'But next time we're crashing a merchant's party, I get to be one of the party guests as well. I want to have a good time.'

You quickly straighten your back and walk past them, back to the bar. You didn't want to give them the idea you'd been listening to their conversation.

So they were planning on robbing some rich woman who owned a diamond necklace. And Jesper would be the one to confirm the diamonds are real. Only Grisha could do that. And there were more on their crew, at least three more. If you could figure out what party they had been talking about, you could try and get in as well.

As you're standing behind the bar, talking to one of your coworkers, you see Jesper and Kaz get up. While standing in the doorway, Jesper waves happily at you. Kaz is already out of the pub.

You smile and wave back at him.

If only he knew that in just a few minutes, you had discovered they'd steal a priceless necklace, and that they were gang members. Because who else would dare to steal a necklace someone would be wearing at a crowded party?

Only gangs would be bold enough to do something like that. You didn't know what gang they were part of, but that wasn't the kind of information you need to acquire. Right now, all you had to do was find out where and when the party was being held.

You could be quicker than them, and snatch the diamonds away from them. You could buy yourself a nice new set of knives, or rent a bigger room.

Either way, you were going to get a lot of money.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

#me whenever I am writing a grishaverse fic: I must include jesper or nina in this #I literally cannot write something without at least one of them in there #also I am sorry but it is true. kaz dresses like he's going to a funeral I'm sorry <3 its okay tho he's hot #kaz brekker #shadow and bone #grishaverse #Kaz Brekker x reader #Kaz Brekker x you #kaz brekker fanfic #Kaz Brekker fanfiction #Kaz Brekker fanfics #Kaz Brekker fic #shadow and bone fics #shadow and bone fanfics #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone fic #new in town

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amoristt · 3 years ago

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Just a Dare | Nathan Prescott x Reader

@trueloveknifefight asked, Also can I request Nathan asking you out?

here u are! i love writing convos w nathan UGH i adore his character.

as always, replies and reblogs are greatly appreciated1 i check all tags and comments <3

wanna support me for just $3? here's my ko-fi!

The lights were bright, vivid. Almost blinding. They dance LED accents into the reflection of your drink- a dull plastic cup filled to the brim with one part whiskey, zero parts mixer. The taste could bring a tear to your eye but you would be damned to water down such fine alcohol, provided by none other than Nathan Prescott himself.

Music reverberated along the pool rooms walls, laughter and hollers distantly rising with the tempos. Your foot absently tapped to the beat- you were never one for dancing. Never one for parties, either, actually, favoring drinking in the solitude of a small friend group.

If not for Nathan you wouldn't be here at all. Some would say it's a privilege to slip past those heavy doors, entering the dully lit world of the Vortex Club. You mostly just felt like it was all for show. Somehow securing a place among Nathan's friend group, and a good friend at that, it was almost duty to show up. He insisted on it.

So, here you were. Leaning against a wall in a suffocatingly warm, cramped pool room surrounded by a sea of faces you hardly recognized.

That was, until you saw Nathan's face peer through the small break in shifting bodies. You knew him all too well.

Strikingly handsome, equally strikingly pompous. Funny, crude, an absent minded party goer just as much as he was a fireball with racing, incoherent thoughts. A drinker, a druggie. Takes the edge off, he says, but you think he does it to take away his thoughts completely. You felt like his entire life was all edges, never sacred ground.

The poor bastard.

He lures your attention in as he saunters over with squared shoulders, narrowly avoiding spilling his drink when a random student cuts it a little too close. Normally Nathan would make a bigger deal, give him what for, but this time he just shoots the poor kid a menacing glare and grumbles, 'fucking watch it'. He's walking with purpose and intent, you can see it on his face. You must have a target on your forehead as he darts straight over.

When he comes to your side, his own alcohol dripping down the sides of his cup onto his wiry fingers, you raise a brow.

"Something wrong?" You ask, as he takes a spot leaning against the hard wall right next to you.

"Just wondering why you're being so fucking lame over here," He shouts over the music, taking a sip of his drink, grimacing at the taste. "We're all having a good time over at the lounge and you're over here acting like all the other wallflower nobodies."

You roll your eyes with upturning lips. "Maybe I like being a wallflower. I like people watching. I see things no one else does."

"Yeah, okay, fucking weirdo."

"I mean it," You push off the wall and grin. "Look-" You point to a student obviously wasted, drink held high over head while he lets the music take him away. "That guy is clearly trashed- he's having the time of his life. He's gotta be seeing double."

Nathan whistles at his state, taking in the guys goofy smile, half lidded eyes. "I'll bet it's the triplets. I could breathe on him too hard and he'd fall over."

"You should go try it." You tease. He shakes his head and takes another drink.

"Nah, he'll get it himself. Guarantee we'll be dragging him out by his feet by the end of the night." He shrugs. "Or, at least someone will. I sure as fuck ain't staying that long."

You snicker. "What, got a hot date?" Nathan glares at you. "Oh don't tell me," you cup your hands to whisper, a secretive gesture, "homework?"

"Fuck no," He scoffs, and you can just barely see that he's a little more than tipsy now. His pale cheeks dusted with red, the tip of his nose ruby under the harsh lighting. It's also then that you realize he's a little more tense than usual, even despite the drinking. He's standing straight upright, his right hand gripping his cup like a crutch and his left now shoved hastily into his pocket.

He hasn't looked at you dead in the eyes yet.

"So what is it then?" You ask curiously. He shrugs and stares into his cup. You frown. "Bro, are you like, good right now? Do you wanna leave?"

For the first time since he'd wandered over, Nathan looks up at you. His eyes are unreadable, but his composure seems stressed. He shrugs again. Before you can even open your mouth to ask him about his state, he sighs and downs an entire mouthful of burning whiskey. It makes you cringe just watching him.

"Fuck it," He huffs. "Look I got some stupid ass dare to come over here and put the moves on you, okay." He sounds almost annoyed, like it's a hassle for him, or maybe embarrassing. You cross your arms. "I was dared to come over here and try to get you like, to fucking, you know, leave with me, but now that I'm over here I'm starting to think maybe that was a dumbass idea."

"Leave with you?" You say incredulously, a brow already lifting. "You were dared to come over here and try to sleep with me? By our friends?"

"No, no, fuck," Nathan seems agitated now, rushing. "Like a date sorta bullshit. Ask you out." He manages to get it out in almost the worst delivery possible, meanwhile you're just trying to pick out who would put him up to this. Hayden? Victoria?

A laugh forces its way out of you. "Aren't we a little too old for that game?"

Nathan shrugs. "That's what I said but they insisted. Fucking babies. At least make the dare a little more fun than just asking some bitch out. That's like elementary level shit."

Your eyes widen, you scoff. "Excuse me?"

Nathan sputters. "You're not some bitch, I didn't mean to-... Fucks sake, I'm clearly a little drunk right now okay, if you could cut me some fucking slack that'd be awesome."

"Hey man I didn't ask to be a victim of bullying," You tease, and he can't help but laugh. You soften. "Never expected it from you, though of all people. As ironic as that sounds."

"I'm not even bullying you, come on. Don't be a bitch. I even admitted it and everything."

You grin. "Yeah. Gotta say though, I'm a little disappointed."

"Oh what, you wanted to see my moves?" Nathan hums. "You wanted some Prescott action?"

"Shut the hell up." You shove his shoulder, an action that would be a mistake to so many others, but for you, it was welcomed. "I'm disappointed that it was just a dare. I'd probably have said yes if it wasn't. But, oh well."

Nathan doesn't answer for a long moment. First, he stares into his drink, processing. Almost like he hadn't heard that right, or like you were messing with him. It's rare to see Nathan Prescott stunned into a momentary silence. He's thinking, wondering what he should say next. Suspicious that you're just playing with him, hopeful that maybe you aren't.

And, you hadn't been. Truth be told if given the chance you would allow him to take you out for the evening. Show you fancy things, try out something a little more intimate than just laughter and poking fun at classmates together. You enjoyed his presence, looked forward to it at times.

A small part of you had hoped that he felt the same, maybe. Somehow. While grateful that he respected you enough to cut the crap before it even began, you couldn't help but feel a little... Disheartened at the prank. You'd saved your pride by denying him beforehand, but, if it had been genuine...

"So if it wasn't a dare," He began, quietly, barely audible over the booming music overhead. Eyes barely visible in the sea of vibrant lights crashing like waves. "You'd have said yes."

You shrug, trying to play it casual to save your own feelings, just in case. "Probably. I mean, we're already friends. We have fun so it couldn't have been that bad." He nods along to almost every word.

"Well what if we did it anyways." He blurts.

"Did what?"

"Go out tonight. Like, you know ditch this lame ass party and have some real fun."

"You love this lame ass party, and plus," You shake your head in feigned annoyance. "I'm not sleeping with you, Nathan."

He glares at you. "Fucking duh. I'm just saying we can go and hang out somewhere else. This party happens all the fucking time so it's not like we're missing anything."

"But, wouldn't that make me the butt of our friends joke?"

He shrugs. "Fuck em. It was a dumb dare anyways."

"Now it seems like you're trying extra hard to convince me to say yes." You state, and he's frazzled, running lines through his brain to try and save the absolute failure of asking you out. You decide to spare him, take a little leap of faith for yourself. "But, alright. I'm in."

Nathan gapes at you. "You're in?"

"Yeah, why not. I'm not busy right now and if you're not either than," You smile. "Why not. You better wow me though, Prescott. I'm talking a night to remember. Fireworks, dinner by candle light, a serenade. The whole package."

Nathan's eyes light up, but he tries to hide it, rolls those beautiful blues. "Well considering I've had like no fucking time to prepare how about we instead go to the roof and chill out."

You toss the idea around in your head for show. You already knew the answer the moment he asked if you were being serious.

"I mean I guess that would work," You say. "I was looking for fireworks but I suppose that will suffice. Feel free to go tell our buddies their joke may have backfired on them."

Nathan shakes his head. "Nah, don't even bother. They're all drunk and probably don't even remember daring me in the first place."

"Alright then," You push yourself off the wall, feeling your cheeks warm. A flutter takes wing in the base of your chest, your heart picking up just a little faster. You can't stop the smile that graces you as you say, "Lead the way, Prescott."

Nathan does lead the way. He takes your hand into his own, your fingers tracing over his boney knuckles as he drags you through the sea of bodies, out to the school hall and up winding stairs.

You giggle like a child when he struggles to find the correct key on the janitors ring he'd snatched weeks ago just in case, tease him when he almost spills his drink all over himself. Nathan's hands are almost shaking, but you chalk it up to the alcohol. You chalk everything up to the alcohol- his trembling fingers, his red face, a shy, albeit goofy smile resting upon his lovely, angular face.

The night was cool and crisp, a stark contrast to the smoldering heat of the Vortex Party.

He looks amazing out under the stars, and underneath the scope of the vast, black sky dotted with trillions of perfect, twinkling lights, you feel at peace.

Looking at him, you feel like this may be the start of something you'd denied yourself the chance of ever even imagining.

Out there, alone but together, hearing the echoes of music mixed with the livelihood of crickets in the darkness...

it truly was a night to remember.

-----------

Days later, you sit atop your desk, feet tapping rhythmically on your chair, typing away at your phone.

"Love the top," A familiar voice pipes, and you glace up to find Victoria standing before you, books pressed to her chest. She takes in your shirt, a nicely fitted long sleeve with a rather low cut v-neck. "Why haven't I see that one before?"

You shrug and set your phone down. "Never got around to wearing it I guess. Not a big fan of V-necks."

"It fits you," She sets her books down at the table beside you and brushes a hand through her hair, making sure every strand is in line. "I'll have to get one myself."

"You know what, you can have it after today," You say, and she perks up in disbelief. "As a thank you for what happened at the party."

That disbelief soon turned to confusion. "...Meaning?"

"Y'know, making Nathan ask me out. He made a whole huge deal about it- said you guys were drinking and playing Truth or Dare of all things. Gotta say, I was a little surprised."

Victoria's brows knit. "We hardly drank at that party, and I wouldn't be caught dead playing Truth or Dare. That game is for kids."

It almost knocks the wind out of you.

They hadn't even been playing in the first place.

As the teacher walks into the room, the first period bell blaring annoyingly over the speakers, you climb off your desk and prepare for the day, hardly able to contain yourself. It hadn't been a dare, after all.

And, you and Nathan's official second date was merely a day away.

#nathan prescott #life is strange #imagine #lis

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hangovercurse · 4 years ago

Text

Like Father Like Daughter

You meet Colson while visiting your dad, Tommy Lee, on the set of The Dirt and the rest is history.

Request: “Have colson(mgk) meeting tommy Lee’s daughter(reader) on set of the dirt and they fall in love and she meets casie scared that casie won’t like her but casie loves her”

Colson X Reader

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: I wrote this 3 different times because I didn’t like the first two…

Word Count: 2558

Day One

Stepping out into the New Orleans air for the first time was shocking; the smell of cigarettes, liquor, and swamp mixing around in your nose. But there was something in the air; something electric, exciting; something new. You headed towards the studio where your dad told you he was working for the day. A young woman with an earpiece and a clip board found you at the entrance, a kind smile on her face. “You’re Y/N, right? Tommy’s daughter.”

You nodded, letting her lead you through the maze of sets until you walked into a large room with lights and cameras surrounding an area of floor that was set up to look like the set of one of Motley Crue’s old music videos. Your father was on the set, talking to two men who looked around your age and Jeff Tremaine, the film’s director. You hesitantly walked further into the space, but not past the cameras, to alert him of your presence. This process was made much easier by your Uncle Nikki spotting you from across the room and shouting “Little Lee!”

Your dad, along with the men he was talking to and a few other people in the room, turned to look at you. You smiled shyly, sending a small wave to your dad’s best friend. Your dad beckoned for you to join his conversation, wrapping an arm around your side once you landed next to him. “Hey kiddo, how was your flight?”

You leaned into his shoulder, “it was fine. Longer than I’d expected but, at least I’m here.” You took in the unfamiliar faces of the men surrounding you, eyes lingering on the man with bright blue eyes and a drumstick twirling around in his hands.

“Oh, shit, right. This is my oldest, Y/N.” Your dad introduced you to the guys. “Y/N you know Jeff, this is Douglas,” he motioned towards the guy with long black hair and two painted stripes under his eyes, “he’s playing Nikki in the movie.” You nodded, sending the man a smile which he returned brightly. “And this is Colson, he’s me.” He pointed to the man your eye had caught on, who sent you a wide grin.

“Nice to meet you.” You said, towards all the men, but your eyes still trapped in Colson’s blue ones.

The rest of the day was spent uneventfully. You watched the boys film scenes over the monitor with your dad, him feeding you commentary on what actually happened. Even though you’d heard most of the stories growing up, you let him retell them.

You kept finding your attention drifting towards the man with bright blue eyes, a long black wig, and a set of drumsticks always at hand. Your dad noticed, teasing you every chance he got. “He’s hot, right?”

“Dad!” You huffed.

He chuckled, “Just spitting facts. At least I’m not the one drooling over him like a teenage girl.”

You rolled your eyes, “I am 26 years old: I don’t drool over boys.”

“Oh, well, Colson’s a man.” He elbowed you jokingly.

“You’re annoying.”

“Passed it down to you, kiddo.”

Later on, he’d swear he had nothing to do with it, but you’d always suspected he told Colson about your attraction for the man, as after filming wrapped for the day, Colson asked you to dinner. It was quite honestly the best date you’d been on in a long time, and soon you were agreeing to another the next night.

With Colson everything seemed naturally easy. He was one of the sweetest, funniest guys you’d met, and you wouldn’t have to worry about your dad not liking him. The only problem was that you were only able to spend a week in New Orleans with him.

Day 6

“You live in LA, right?” He asked on the walk back to your apartment, his jacket slung around your shoulders.

You looked up at him with the same smile that had been on your face the entire night, “yeah, why?”

He let out a nervous chuckle, “well, I was hoping that when I get back to LA in a month, we could do this again?”

Your smile turned into a smirk, “are you asking me to wait for you, Colson Baker?”

“When you put it like that I sound like a fuckin dweeb.”

“I thought I was making you sound romantic.” You whined jokingly, hand reaching out to intertwine with his. “But if you were asking, I would say yes.”

“It’s a date.”

“You better call me while you’re gone though.”

He looked down at you with a confused expression, “what do you take me for, an idiot? I am going to be texting and calling you so much you’ll be begging me to stop.”

“Good.”

You swung your hands back in forth the rest of the way home, comfortable silence enveloping you. Colson walked you all the way to the door of your hotel room, leaning against the wall as you unlocked the door. You turned to him before making your way into the room, a sad smile on your face. “I’ll see you in a month?”

He leaned off the wall and moved to stand directly in front of you, hands grazing your hips lightly, hesitantly. “One very long month,” he mumbled, trying to burn your image into his memory.

“Well,” you started, “maybe you should give me something to remember you by.” Colson raised his eyebrow at you, feeling somewhat taken aback by your boldness. But then he remembered who your dad was and was much less surprised.

His grip on your hips tightened as he leaned in, lips colliding with yours. Your arms moved up his arms slowly, landing finally around his neck. The kiss was sweet and slow, something you would have never expected from looking at the man. His lips felt intoxicating, like you would die if you pulled apart. It had only been a single kiss, but you were already addicted.

You were broken out of your trance by cheering from the end of the hallway, a familiar voice calling out “that’s my girl!” Your face turned red as you pulled apart, finding your dad and his fiancé, Brittany, clapping at the end of the hallway.

“You are so fucking embarrassing.” You told him as he approached you and gave Colson a firm pat on the shoulders.

“It could be worse. If it was anyone else, I probably would’ve kicked his ass for even thinking about kissing you.” Tommy said, an innocent smile on his face. “But Colson, I will kill you if you fuck this up.”

The blond boy gave him a small salute, “yes sir.”

Day 34

Your text tone rang from your phone as you sat on your couch, watching TV.

Colson:

Be ready in 45

Even though you’d spent the last 4 weeks facetiming him, you weren’t fully convinced that Colson would keep good on his promise to see you again once he got back in town. You’d been pretty convinced he wouldn’t as the days dragged on with no mention of his return or a reunion. But here he was, telling you to be ready for something.

You texted him back

Wait… are you serious?

When he responded with a

Flight just landed, yes I’m serious.

You squealed, rushing around the house to get ready. The simple thought of seeing him in person, of hopefully tasting his intoxicating lips again, made your heart flutter. And then he was knocking on your door. When you opened it to see him standing there, a single rose in his hand and a nervous smile on his face, you wanted to jump into his arms.

He was a gentleman the entire night, opening your door for you, pulling out your chair, complimenting you. Everything just felt so perfect. And when he walked you up to your door and kissed you goodnight, you swooned.

Day 50

You were sat on his couch, your back resting against his chest as some movie played on the TV. One of his hands was wrapped around your waist, the other intertwined with your own. You’d been sitting in relative silence for a while, save for the noise from the TV.

But that was broken when Colson spoke softly, “I know this is lame but like, I gotta make sure. You’re my girlfriend, right?”

You chuckled lightly at his lame attempt to ask you to be his girlfriend. “No, I’ve just been going out on dates with you and not talking to anyone else for shits and giggles.”

He let out a breath of air from his nose humorously, “Okay cool.”

“That was a yes, by the way.” You turned your head and leaned up to press a soft, strained kiss to his lips.

“Cool.”

Day 96

You were half asleep, wrapped up in Colson’s arms on his bed. Your head rested on his chest, eyes struggling to stay open. Colson was just as tired of you were, his words slowing when he said, “I think I’m in love with you.”

You mumbled out a lazy “really?” too tired to be shocked at the gravity of what he was saying. Truthfully, you weren’t all that surprise at the admission, as you had been looking for the right way to express the same sentiment.

“Yeah. I’m pretty fuckin’ in love with you.”

“Sweet” You mumbled, pressing a small kiss to his bare chest.

His chest shook with a silent giggle, “Cool.”

“I love you too.” You said, snuggling closer into him.

“Sweet.”

”Cool.”

Day 102

You were making pancakes at your stove, Colson’s arms wrapped around you from behind. He’d been staying the night at your house for almost a week, simulating the feeling of living with you. You couldn’t admit that the thought wasn’t attractive, having him around almost all the time was amazing and something you were afraid of ending.

“Hey, could I ask you something?” He mumbled as you watched the pancakes cook. You hummed a response and he continued, “my daughter’s gonna be in town next week. I was hoping you’d meet her.”

You bit your lip, a grin growing on your face. You knew meeting Casie was a big deal to Colson, he had told you many times how important she was to him. He didn’t let her meet just anyone in his life. “Yeah, I’d love that.”

But then that thought crossed through your mind; the one that would raise your anxiety levels for the next seven days. What if Casie doesn’t like me?

If Casie didn’t like you, things with you and Colson would be over. He didn’t even have to tell you that, you just knew. And you couldn’t blame him; she’s the most important person in his life. But you loved Colson, and you wanted him to be around for a while. So, if you made a bad first impression, everything would crumble down.

And that’s exactly what you told him a few days later while you lay in bed, Ferris Bueller playing in the background as you traced the outlines of his tattoos.

Day 106

“What if Casie doesn’t like me?”

“Babe, she’s nine years old. She’ll get over it.” He kissed the top of your head lightly, fingers running up and down your spine.

“Yeah, but what if she doesn’t? I know you won’t wanna be with me if she doesn’t approve. And I don’t blame you. I don’t want to be with you if she doesn’t want me to be.”

He grabbed your chin, pulling you to look at him, “you worrying right now is exactly the reason she’s gonna love you and the reason why I already do.” He kissed you softly, your eyes fluttering closed. He still manages to take your breath away.

“I love you too,” you whispered, “I’m just scared of losing you.”

He chuckled, “Casie’s tough, I won’t lie, but she’s going to see just how amazing you are and fall right in love with you. And, if you want extra brownie points, you should let her help you bake something.”

“Was that accidental or were you trying to make a really bad pun?”

He pressed another kiss to your lips, chuckling slightly, “they don’t call me comedy genius for nothing, babe.”

“No one calls you that.”

Day 109

Colson had decided it would be best for you and Casie to meet at his house, mostly because he hated taking Casie out in LA. He’d ordered dinner to be delivered and told you he’d stocked up on baking supplies for you and Casie. Now all you had to do was show up.

He answered the door, pulling you in for a long kiss as soon as he saw you. “I love you.” He whispered, trying to ease your nerves. You spoke the words back to him, letting him take your hand and lead you inside. “Hey, Case, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

You’d seen Casie through pictures that Colson had shown you or from around the house, but she seemed so much prettier in person. You could tell by the way she moved that she took after her father, just like people always said about you. “I’m Y/N.” You said shyly, a soft smile on your face.

Casie beamed up at you, “I’m Casie. Dad talks about you a lot.”

You chuckled, turning to him, “he does?”

She nodded, “he thinks you’re great.”

“I think he’s pretty great too.” He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. “He tells me about you all the time.”

“Really?”

You smiled at her excitement, “heck yeah. I was so scared to meet you because of how cool he makes you sound.”

The three of you ate dinner, chatting conversation. You were less nervous than before; Casie seeming to like you, but you were still on edge. When you finished, Colson announced, “I happen to know that two of the best cookie makers in California are sitting at this table and I am not one of them.” He looked between you and Casie, a smile on his face. “So, I believe cookies are in order.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, an amused smile on your face. “You’re helping us.”

Casie nodded, “every master chef needs an assistant.”

“She speaks truth.”

Colson pouted at both of you, “I was gonna be the judge.”

Casie giggled, getting up from the table and dragging her dad by the arm to the kitchen. “Too bad!”

You stayed at the table, picking up dishes and taking them to the sink before joining the other two at the counter in front of a large bowl and a variety of ingredients. Colson was currently holding a bag of chocolate chips over Casie’s head as she jumped to reach it, failing miserably. “Y/N he won’t give me the chocolate chips.” She whined.

You gave Colson a stern look, “hand them over, noodle boy.” You held out your hand and he placed the bag into your palm, a pout on his face. Casie laughed, repeating the phrase “noodle boy” to herself as you handed her the bag.

“So, are you two just gonna team up against me the whole night?” He asked, looking between you two.

Casie and you made eye contact, firmly shaking your heads, “absolutely” you said at the same time.

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #colson imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker fluff #tommy lee

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thelovelyghostwriter · 4 years ago

Text

Ranking the HxH guys in my Simping Tier: Countdown

Note: This is just for fun and lame-ass humour. You are free to like anyone in hxh and this tier doesn’t reflect how great the character is. It’s just a ranking based on how much I simp for them.

14. Meruem

Okay. There’s a reason why Meruem is at the last list. He’s an ant. He’s not even fully human FML. Can’t believe people wanna fuck this teenaged mutant ninja ant. Can’t even say those people are a furry because this ant has no fur. It’s a no for me.

13. Illumi

The Illumi simps are gonna hack me for having him too low. I find him cute and has really nice hair that can be for shampoo ads... but his eyes... it covers 70% of his face. It’s guppy eyes. It’s like he wore those coloured contact lenses that enlarges the eyes.

12. Shalnark

OKay. Shalnark is cute. He’s really one of the most good looking guys in the series. However, I don’t know why but his personality is kinda “ehh”. He’s a little psycho who controls people with his phone, but somehow his personality is overshadowed by a lot of extreme characters with Hisoka. Also, I try not to get too attached to him because of what happens in the current arc.

11. Kite

Okay. This is weird but... I find Kite more attracted when he’s a red-headed female ant right now. Okay. I know I went all like “MERUEM ISNT EVEN HUMAN” but female Kite LOOKS human. She has freckles and all that. It’s real cute. But I’d say he’s a little lower because he doesn’t really have that “oomph” personality so-

10. Pariston

Now, talk about a character with FABULOUS presentation of himself. Pariston shows himself off with extravagance. NOW, that’s a personality. He’s like one of those celebs that are just so extra like Lady Gaga that it’s amazing. I know he’s underrated in the simping world, but he’s essentially kinda like Hisoka (who has a big simping fandom), only he prefers to play with people’s minds rather than fight people.

9. Tserriednich

You might be wondering, why the fuck is he here? Okay, first of all, he reminds me of Hannibal who is by the way, charming. And yes I mean it in the Mads Mikkelsen AND the Anthony Hopkins way. Makes me wanna his Clarice but I’d rather have Theta have that spot. Secondly, he’s a prince so being his bride is literally a dream come true. Thirdly, yeh, Tserriednich is actually very handsome. Nice blond hair and that facial beard.

8. Gon

He’s quite low on the tier because I had always seen him as a cute green mini-Ging. Personality-wise, he’s really sweet and I can see a lot of girls liking him because he knows how to treat women respectfully. He can even handle the crazy ones like Palm. His alpha side came out during the Chimera Ant arc and his adult form is hella attractive.

Jokes aside, this character is really amazing as an MC. It’s sad that he gets overshadowed but I believe he’s a pretty unique shounen MC because most of the time, a shounen MC doesn’t kill or has a pretty much black-and-white morality. Gon Freecss breaks that stereotype and he’s truly appreciated.

7. Leorio

Listen to me. This man is supposed to be the type of man you’re supposed to marry. Doctor, loyal, caring and funny. This man is the total package. I think the reason why he’s a little lower in my simp tier is because well... he’s the type of guy that I will go for in reality. In fiction, that’s where all my crushes for crazy guys should be. My simp tier is based on my heart, not brain.

6. Killua

Okay. I was down bad for Killua when I was younger. DOWN BAD. So down bad that it was scary. I sort of got over him now. But what can you do? Killua is simped by a lot of teenaged girls or women who had a crush on him since the beginning of time. He’s fiercely loyal, has white hair and pretty blue eyes, is a fun mixture of mischief and seriousness. He’s the type of guy you can count on to get out of trouble and one to always treasure you. I do think that if I ever meet Killua though, that he’d bully me to oblivion.

Okay, we’re at the top 5. From here onwards, some real NSFW simping words.

5. Hisoka

I kinda do understand Hisoka stans, but at the same time, I do not get them. Like him or not, he’s a very flamboyant character. He stands out of the crowd and he just have that unexplained charisma.

He’s actually a really well-written character. He’s the balancing factor in the narrative of HxH. He’s like the joker in the deck of cards. Back to my simp tier, he’s very attractive ESPECIALLY with his hair down. There’s a certain aura that is addictive about him that I can’t pin-point. And for that, he earns my top 5 spot.

4. Feitan

I swear. This simping phenomenon actually manifested from Hiei. Yes, Feitan’s character blueprint, Hiei from Yu Yu Hakusho. (The real OGs will know that Hiei is the character blueprint, not Levi). I know a lot of people compare him to Levi but let me explain why Levi and Feitan are alike: it’s because their character blueprint is Hiei.

Anyway, Hiei is HOT. And to me, the hxh equivalent is Feitan, with a huge addition of sadism and emo-ness. Okay, that makes it even hotter.

I have read some Feitan/Reader on AO3 and BOI. I enjoyed reading certain stuff that I never thought I would enjoy. I read a fic about Reader-chan getting whipped and basically all sorts of BDSM and OMG it’s heaven.

“They say all good boys go to heaven, but bad boys bring heaven to you”

3. Chrollo

At first, I didn’t really care about Chrollo until he wore that tuxedo and let his hair down (Is it just me or a lot of hxh boys look good with their hair down?). HE LOOKS SO GODLY HOLY FUCK.

I’m 100% sure that his character blueprint for the hair-down is Koenma. He also gives me Tuxedo Mask vibes. Overall, such chivalry and handsomeness all in one man. Not to mention, that sexy sexy voice when he recites his fortune-telling. I would say he has the sexiest voice among all hxh guys. He is just that HOT and charismatic. I wanna see where he hid that Spider tattoo and scratch his back.

2. Ging

Okay. Ging is hardly simp by girls. And I do not understand why?? He is motherfucking attractive. Even now. GAWD. I love him.

I think my attraction to him pre-started because he looks and acts SO much like my childhood crush Yusuke Urameshi from Yu Yu Hakusho. I know he’s an asshat but he’s a CHARMING asshat. Yeap, I said it. He is actually highly intelligent and just acts like a total haggard because he can.

It’s not just when he’s young. I STILL think he’s hot even in his 30s. He’s not that old for me to me honest. I don’t care if he’s a decade older than me because I think that’s the appeal of it. I

It’s kinda sad that he’s not that popular because I need some Ging/Reader smut content. Like, I envisioned a smut fic where the reader is like in her 20s and is strangely attracted to Ging. He’s wildly confused over this but he’s seriously considering of tapping it because his old ass haven’t had any action lately. The other Zodiacs are also confused and are convinced that he must have given some sex pollen to the reader because who the hell is sane enough to be attracted to him? (But it’s just that you need some acquired taste to actually find this man alluring). He’s one of the most fuckable characters ahhh.

And... for the last one...

Drumroll please....

1. Kurapika

Seriously, was there even a surprise.

THIS MAN IS THE AKAKU GOD. He’s beautiful, he’s sexy and fucking dominant (yes, I say he’s domineering because do you see the way he throws a hot tantrum during the whole YorkNew arc, demanding shit from his enemies, taking charge of everything?) His chains drives me nuts. I love it when he gets angry. I know he’s kinky on the inside. When he wore that tuxedo... ooof. He looks hella fine. He’s the only guy in hxh that fulfills my ala Michael Corleone mafia boss kink. I want him to ^&*(%%%*%^ (to save myself from embarrassment, I self-censored) as we attempt to repopulate the clan and produce more scarlet eyed babies, as he whispers some real degrading and possessive shit in Kurta while he tells me what to do. AHHHHH. *bye gotta go write some kuraneon porn now byeee*

#hxh #hunterxhunter #sorry im just down bad during quarantine #kurapika #akaku #kurapika akaku akaku #akaku god #ging #ging freecss #chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #feitan #this is a shitpost

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