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astermath · 2 years ago

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“So? Whatever.”

pairing: dave lizewski x popular!fem!reader

summary: The preppy girl that just about everyone admires has more in common with Dave than he expects. He doesn’t quite know how to handle this information, but it excites him nonetheless.

word count: 2K

♡ LANDING PAGE♡

notes: I haven’t written something like this in a good while, so please bear with me if I’m rusty or there are some mistakes here and there. Reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, I tried to be as non descriptive as possible about her appearance. I do love writing a bit of a mean reader like this, but don’t worry, she’ll warm up to him. This fic takes place in senior year for age purposes, I’m pretty much fully ignoring the timeline of the film. Comments and/or requests are super welcome btw!! Hope you enjoy!! <3

(ps this will get a part two don’t worry xx)

To Dave, girls like you were unreachable. You could hear about them, you could listen to them talk in the hallways, sneak a glance their way… But talk to them? Any single one of their group would consider that social suicide. The only reason any of them even looked in his direction was to ask him to do their homework. So why in god’s name were you at his locker? Why were you acknowledging his existence at all?

“What’s that?” You leaned against the locker next to his, pointing at the piece of a comic book panel he’d taped to the door. It pictured Spider-man putting on his mask for the first time, something Dave looked to when he needed some motivation for the day.

He struggled to get basically any words out, still not fully registering that you’re within such close range. He could smell you… God that was really weird to think about, he felt like a creep already, but you just… Smelled really nice. Like vanilla, mixed with something sweet. He realized he hadn’t answered your question yet and was just staring in front of him like a weirdo. “O-Oh, yeah, that’s uh… That’s Spider-man. It’s this… This superhero I like.” He adjusted the strap of his backpack to keep his hands busy.

You smiled and rolled your eyes. “Duh, I know who Spider-man is, please.” You couldn’t help but think he was doing anything to avoid looking into your eyes, as if you’d turn him to stone if he dared to do so. Which, yes, was exactly how he felt.

“I wanted to know which comic that was from. The art style looks a lot different than the ones I’ve seen.” Now this part was pretty much making his teenage brain short circuit. He probably didn’t hear that right, there’s no way a popular girl like you read comics, right? This had to be some kind of elaborate joke, like you were trying to pull a prank on him by making him ramble about his favorite superheroes. However, he wasn’t close minded. Even if this was a prank, at least you were talking to him, right?

“Yeah, sorry, I uh… Forget he’s a pretty popular character sometimes. This one’s from a collector’s edition. One of the pages was kinda falling apart so I just… Taped my favorite panel to my locker.” Again, he tried to look anywhere else, but it felt rude not to be making eye contact with the person who’s trying to give you a chance at a conversation. His eyes met yours and he realised he hadn’t ever actually seen you up close like this. You were really pretty, he knew that, but he never noticed these particular things about you before. The way your hair framed your features so nicely, the little beauty mark that seemed to be somehow perfectly placed, or the way a dimple appeared on your right cheek when you smiled.

“Hopefully you didn’t pay too much for it, those things cost like, a fortune.” You followed, snapping him out of his haze as you twirled a piece of hair between your index and middle finger. Dave was much taller than you, so you had to look up to match his gaze, which was already hard since he kept avoiding your eyes. You never realized how much he’d matured since freshman year. He looked pretty cute… Really cute, actually.

“S-So, uhm, I really don‘t wanna be rude, but…” He closed his locker before looking at you with a rather awkward expression. “Why are you here? Why are you… talking to me?” Honestly, not an unjustified question. Dave was often the subject of bullying, and the popular girls clique made no exception to that rule. He doesn’t remember you specifically doing anything, although... He has a vague memory of you being in the car with those jocks when they threw spoiled milk at him.

“What? A girl can’t talk to her fellow classmate? This is a free country, you know.” You pretended to be a little hurt by his assumption that you were probably just here to make fun of him. In all honesty he was still a little dumbfounded by this whole ordeal, and the fact that half the people that passed you were giving you two weird looks really wasn’t helping. “You know I sit behind you in English, right?” He responds by nodding. He is painfully aware of this fact, as your friends had expressed their empathy for you when your seat was assigned behind him, though you honestly didn’t mind. And also the fact that he got a fair share of gossip from you and your best friend always whispering to each other. “Well,” you flipped a bit of hair over your shoulder. “I saw you had a copy of Birth of Venom in your backpack, and I... Wanted to ask if I could borrow it...” You looked to the side, muttering the last part. As much as you tried not to care what people thought, you did have a bit of a reputation that you were stuck to. Liking comics wasn’t for you, you were a cheerleader, you went to parties, you liked shopping. Okay, you secretly liked comics.

Dave looked at you with a puzzled expression. “I-I’m sorry, can you repeat tha--”

“Can I borrow your stupid comic or what?” You interrupted him, clearly looking a bit embarrassed.

“Oh!” His face was getting hot, this conversation was lasting way longer than he imagined it would. Usually he’d have his face shoved into his locker by now. “U-Uhm, sure! It’s a bit expensive, but... Well, just don’t damage it, please.” He took his backpack off his shoulder and was about to pull it out before you grabbed his arm.

“Not here you dumbass! Just, like... Ugh, meet me at my car after school’s over, you can hand it to me then.” You were acting like this was some kind of illegal drug deal, but this truly was something important to you. Your dad had already made it very clear that he didn’t want his little girl becoming some kind of tomboy and have her mind run rampant with superhero stories. Especially with this Kickass guy running around...

The bell rang and you silently thanked it for doing so. “Look, I gotta go. White Corvette, by the vending machines.” You walked past him, and a waft of that lovely vanilla scent hit his nose. He damn near melted into the floor when your arm brushed against his. “Later, Lizewksi.”

You leaned against the hood of your car, scrolling on your phone as you waited for the brunette to show up. You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty that you were just meeting him in secret like this. It’s not like you were embarrassed to be seen with him, or that you didn’t like him, it’s just that liking comics and superheroes was just about the dorkiest thing anyone could be into. Especially with Kickass running around, and, well, kicking ass, people would probably be thinking you’d be into this whole vigilante business yourself. Sure, you thought it was cool that people were doing something about all the crime, but you’d rather die than mess up your hair beating some thug’s ass.

You noticed someone approaching and noticed that Dave wasn’t alone. With a bit of a disgusted expression, you gestured to his two sidekicks. “I don’t remember inviting the entire geek entourage to come see me. This isn’t some kinda meet and greet, you know.” Todd and Marty seemed, just like Dave before, a little shocked that you were talking to them.

“S-Sorry, they just uh...” Dave began.

“We didn’t believe him.” Todd followed.

“...believe what?” You questioned, crossing your arms.

“That a chick like you was into comics.” Marty said, before Todd smacked him on the back of the head. “Dude! Don’t say it like that!”

You got a bit flustered, and looked at Dave. “You told them!? What the fuck, Lizewski?”

“I-I’m sorry!” He held up his hands. “They were asking me what we were talking about, and... I panicked.” They were more so insinuating that he was flirting with her, and he didn’t want that rumor going around, in case your jock brother caught wind of that and beat his ass for flirting with his sister.

You sighed, looking down and pinching the bridge of your nose before waving your hand out in a dismissive manner. “It’s... whatever, just leave. Before I change my mind and throw a bitch fit.” His two friends gave him a suggestive look before heading out. “Those two better not snitch or I’ll cut off their shrimps.” He nodded, just a little intimidated by the threat.

He got out his backpack and handed you the comic. “I’m still surprised I uh... I never knew you were into this stuff.” His breath hitched in his throat when your finger brushed over his as you took it from him. You flipped through it, keeping your eyes on the pages.

“Yeah, well... There’s a lot you don’t know about me, as much as I’m sure you guys love to assume.” You realized you hadn’t even told him your name, so you looked up at him and held out your hand, introducing yourself. You know, out of courtesy.

“I-I know your name, but uhm... I’m Dave.” Your hand felt so soft, your beautifully manicured fingers being a real juxtaposition to his. His hand was much bigger and rougher than yours. You wondered why his hand was so calloused anyways... He didn’t look like he did many sports.

“Wait... Your name isn’t Lizewski?” You chuckled. “Christ, my bad... I always thought that was just your first name.” Your feeling of guilt for the boy before you flared up a bit again. He was being really nice to you, offering you something personal of his that he probably spent a pretty penny on. And you didn’t even know his actual name before. No wonder some people thought you were a bit of a bitch, you thought to yourself.

“Hey, uhm... I know you got a bunch of these, and my dad would kill me if he knew I was reading them. He hates vigilantes, and he thinks reading comics will get me into the whole thing. Stupid, I know, but... He takes it surprisingly seriously.” You put the comic away carefully. “So I have a proposition for you.”

His eyebrows rose a little. A proposition, alright. No big deal. Could be literally anything though.

“Come to my house this Saturday, bring a bunch of these, and I’ll tell my dad you’re coming to tutor me for physics or something.” You tilted your head a little, your locks falling gently over your shoulders. “I’ll pay you. Money’s not a problem. It’ll be like I’m renting them from you.”

He thought for a second, but in all honesty... How was this not a total win/win situation? He got to be in a pretty girl’s room, read comics with her, talk about them and make money. What kind of idiot would say no to that? “Yeah! Sounds good to me, uh... What do you want me to...” His words trailed off as you pulled out a pen and reached for his hand, writing a string of numbers on the back of it.

“I’ll text you the address, and which series I like. I’ll let you do the picking. Oh, and Dave?”

“Y-Yeah?” He felt like his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. This is the closest you’ve ever stood to him.

Your grip on his hand tightens, and you look up at him with a death stare. “Not a word to anyone about this.” You followed with a cutesy smile. “Alrighty?” You let go of his hand and put your stuff away before pulling out your car keys.

Dave stands frozen in place, a faint blush already spread across his cheeks. He swore you were going to be the death of him. He looked down for a second and realized that what you wrote down wasn’t just some random numbers. It was your phone number. It all just suddenly felt very real to him, he’d never gotten a girl’s number before. And you were just about the last person he’d expect it from too.

You got in your car and turned on your engine. “See ya on Saturday, Lizewski! Don’t be late or I’ll kill you!” You smile, before driving off at a totally normal and acceptable speed.

He gave a nervous wave before he looked back down at his hand. There was a little heart scribbled behind the phone number. It probably meant nothing.

But boy did it make his heart flutter.

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angelwishess · 2 months ago

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— 🎀🕊️ The ethereal yet odd prefect of Ramshackle.

This version is old! Updated intro is here!~

“How did I get here? Why, I wished upon a star, of course!”

Nicknames: Prefect / Prefect of Ramshackle, Henchman (Grim), Trickster (Rook), Little Shrimpy / Sea Angel (Floyd), Kid (Leona), Child of Man (Malleus), Lacy, Ra-ra (Cater)

Grade/Class: Freshman/Class A

Birthday: May 5

Age: 16

Height: 170.18 cm (5’7 ft) ( 175.26/5’9 with her heels!)

Dominant Hand: Right

Homeland: ???

Club: None yet !

Best Subject: Animal Languages

Hobbies: Designing and making clothes

Pet Peeves: Indecisiveness and living routinely

Favourite Food: Burgers !

Least Favorite Food: Steamed fish and liver

Talent: Making clothes out of just about anything!

Likes : Fashion, Cute things, Mythology, Folklore, Fairytales, Flower language, “Adventure”, Anything considered “Art”, Ribbons n’ frills, Pranks n’ mischief, Amusement parks, adrenaline rushes, Cute sweets and cafe hopping!!!

Dislikes : “Boring things”, Normalcy/Living life routinely, pessimism, indecisiveness, lack of freedom, strong smells, studying, silence, humid weather, being looked down on.

Gender & Sexuality: cis girl, demisexual + demiromantic

Voice Claim(s):

ENG: Briana White (Aerith from Final Fantasy)

JP: ??? (None yet!)

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

— ₊˚⊹ The mysterious prefect from another world, Kyra Lovelace exudes an ethereal aura that draws in people and animals alike.

Easy to approach, its easy to let your guard down around her without even realizing it! Well, mostly because she doesn’t seem like a threat at all.

It almost feels like she was pulled straight out of a fairy tale! The way critters big and small flock to her— they say that they even helped her clean up the Campus when she was still a janitor!

(Strangely enough, this also extends to beastmen and merfolk. Such a strange thing, isn’t she?)

With how kind she is, it feels like she really is an angel sent from above! Ever so eager to help whenever she can without ever asking for a thing back, even if they never even asked her.

Of course, people aren’t always as they seem.

Kyra is an uncontrollable force of impulsivity and chaos! Wherever she goes, trouble is sure to follow! With an insatiable desire for adventure and an almost childish curiosity and wonder of everything— Kyra is much more mischevious than you’d think!

Incredibly chatty and foul-mouthed (and fluent in brainrot) with absolutely zero filter, Kyra says whatever is on her mind, and does whatever she wants, whenever she wants!

So dont be surprised if she randomly dissappears out of nowhere, only to come back with trouble burning hot on her heels, and eyes full of wonder! Shes an odd one, thats for sure. You never know whats going to come out of her mouth!

Despite how rambunctious and uncontrollable she is— you’ll find that she’s wormed herself into your heart, and its already too late! Because once she sees you as a friend? Hah, good luck getting rid of her!

An amazing friend in all seriousness, but be ready to face whatever trouble she brings with her! The definition of ride or die, if you can’t handle it then don’t bother sticking around, cuz’ the fun (and chaos) never stops when Kyra is around!

Its undeniable that Kyra leaves an impression! Shes the kind of person you’ll remember even years after a little interaction, she leaves a mark on everyone she meets and her larger-than-life persona is sure to be remembered by all! If you’ve met her, you’ll never forget her. Thats for sure!

Even if she seems rather naive and simple minded at times, shes actually very thoughtful. She has an admirable view of life, and honestly? The best way to describe her is love itself.

She loves so, so very much. Shes so full of it, and it overflows onto the people she interacts with. Shes very emotionally intelligent, and knows just the right things to say to people. A lover in spirit, she can tell when someone’s hurting. After all, shes been there, too.

Perhaps its a little foolish, she can be too trusting of others, choosing to see the best in everyone regardless of who they are. But she’d rather love too much than not at all.

She loves living, she loves every little thing. She has no room for shame nor hesitation because she loves living so very much, she refuses to waste time standing at the sidelines (Not anymore). She lives without regrets, with no restraint, nor fear. She lives as she pleases because that is what living should truly be, shameless and raw. To be who you truly are unashamed, to let yourself shine brighter than the stars! ♡

Sadness is nothing to be ashamed of. Feeling overwhelmed? Stop on by at Ramshackle, and the little mischevious angel of a prefect is sure to sit down with you and listen. Because, she loves you, too!

“Whats done is done, nothin’ we can do about it now other than laugh about it and move forward! Whats the point in feelin’ bad anyways? No point in waiting for the world to stop spinning, yeah?”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

—₊˚⊹ Funfacts n’ Trivia !

(+ some doodles~)

(the quality is so bad pls…)

🎀 Kyra is not twisted / based on a specific character, but she is just the embodiment of the kind of person i aspire to be! Free, positive, and full of love! Basically a ball of blazing chaos and love, with a lust for life.

🎀 I gave her some typical Disney Princess characteristics (the talking to animals, ethereal beauty, ykyk) just because i thought it’d be funny paired with her personality!

🎀 Kyra’s name means ��Shiny” in Japanese, but it can mean “Lord”, “Princess” or “Lady” in other languages!

🎀 Kyra’s last name, “Lovelace”, originates from the word “Lawless” or “Outlaw”! Which honestly fits her and her attitude perfectly, as well as how cute it sounds despite its meaning lol

🎀 Uses her affinity with animals for her ‘little shit’ shennanigans. Has sent an army of rats to Octavinelle during Book 3 out of pure spite, and always wins Croquet with Heartslabyul because the hedgehogs roll into the goals even though she clearly missed (shes actually really bad at croquet.

🎀 ^^ Her natural ability to draw in animals doesn’t stop there— but it seems beastmen and merfolk alike are also drawn towards Kyra! Although much more subtly. Though, don’t be surprised if a beastman comes sniffing around her without warning! (She doesn’t mind, she finds it cute!)

🎀 With waaay too much energy, Kyra just cant stay still for a minute! Always off on some random side quest, working a part-time job at Sam’s just for the fun of it to partying it up with Scarabia, she just can’t stick to one thing for too long! She’ll dissappear for a minute and come back with something completely random. You really never know with her.

(Parents got confused and picked Side Quest Daughter)

🎀 She has a concerningly high pain tolerance. Could be stabbed and be bleeding out but wont notice until someone points it out.

🎀 A total klutz. Shes so clumsy its actually unbelievable how clumsy she is. She could be walking so gracefully then suddenly trip on air. Bumps into literally everything. (The truth about her high pain tolerance— its because shes so clumsy shes so used to getting hurt by random things)

🎀 She adores fashion and hopes to one day be a fashion designer! Her personal style is himekaji.

🎀 She customized her uniform herself, and has always been fond of making her own clothes out of spare cloths and fabrics ever since she was a child! Her first ever dress she made was from the fabric of a curtain.

🎀 Despite how rambunctious she can be— Kyra can also be incredibly gentle. This comes out whenever taking care of her friends, even if she finds it funny to (playfully) bully them, she doesn’t mind letting them lay in her lap and quietly singing to them until they fall asleep.

🎀 She has a scarily good inuition!

🎀 Hoards things like a goblin. Whatever random object she finds she just keeps it, regardless if its worth anything. Her ‘hoard’ consists of trinkets that vary from ‘cool shaped rock on the side of the road’ to ‘a literal gemstone mined from the depths of Briar Valley my friend Hornton gave me!’.

🎀 shes an adrenaline junkie.

—₊˚⊹ Fatal Flaw(s) :

💔 (Self) Toxic Positivity : Anyone who knows Kyra knows just how positive she is. But, what they don’t know is how deeply imbedded it is in herself. Although Kyra always speaks about how important it is to allow yourself to express your emotions, be it anger or sadness, she encourages others to express themselves.

But that does not go for herself. For some reason, she refuses to ever show any sign of “negative” emotions in herself.

Toxic positivity is a "pressure to stay upbeat no matter how dire one's circumstance is", which may prevent emotional coping by feeling otherwise natural emotions. Toxic positivity happens when people believe that negative thoughts about anything should be avoided. Even in response to events which normally would evoke sadness, such as loss or hardships, positivity is encouraged as a means to cope, but tends to overlook and dismiss true expression.

Instead of properly coping when faced with overwhelming, negative emotions, she instead chooses to ignore it entirely. She jokes about it, and pretends it doesn’t exist. All of these pent up emotions keep on layering on eachother, yet she continues to bottle it all up until she explodes.

💔 Impulsivity, with zero regard for safety : Infamously known for her reckless behavior, but her impulsiveness constantly puts her in danger. It doesn’t matter how many times she gets hurt, she just keeps on doing it— constantly running head first into danger again and again with zero regard for her own safety and health.

💔 Calm— to the point of being uncaring : Kyra is coolheaded. As chill as mount Everest, and goes with the flow just like water following a stream. This calm mindset is both a blessing and a curse, even if she is good at staying calm even under crushing pressure, she can struggle to see the urgency in situations until its too late.

Often brushing off clear warnings, reassuring herself and everyone else that it’ll be finee! (It wont.)

She lacks that sense of danger needed for survival— but not all hope is lost. After all, theres always room for growth!

“If you keep waiting until you’re ready, you’ll be waiting for your entire life. People will always judge you no matter the time of day, so just go on and be yourself!”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

—₊˚⊹ Notable Relationships !

— Kyra x Floyd !! (AngEel)

(Yeah they have the dumbest ship name ever but i think that makes it fit even more theyre so STUPID !!! IM GONNA BITE RHEM !!!!!!)

SLOWBURN IDIOTS TO LOVERS !!! SLOWBURN IDIOTS TO LOVERS SLOWBURN IDIOTS TO LOVER SLOWBURNIDIOTSTOLOVERS THEYRE SO AAAA

The cutiest patooties EVER !!! If you like a dramatic, angsty ship, unfortunately they aren’t for you !!! The only thing you’ll get from Floyd n’ Kyra is tooth rotting, diabetes inducing FLUFF and a major headache while watching them obviously be basically a couple— but refuse to acknowledge it.

Ever since they both caught a glimpse of eachother, there was always this strange feeling of familiarity. As if they’ve met before, somewhere… Perhaps once upon a dream? (Nah, jk. Opening scene ref!!! She took his hand teehee)

They’re canonically soulmates. Eachothers compliment, theres no one on land nor under the sea that could ever be as in sync with Floyd as Kyra is. They just… Click. Their hearts beat in the same pattern, and they’re always on the same page. Well, even when they aren’t and they argue, they can never stay mad at eachother for too long.

Remember what I said about Kyra being naturally very touchy? Yeah, this is a whole new level. Kyra has no problems showering Floyd in kisses and affection, both physically and verbally, even if they are in public. She doesn’t see how it could be seen wrong, after all they are just the best of friends !! Shes just really comfortable with him, thats all.

In fact, she gets cuteness aggression from him! Thinks that hes the cutest thing ever, and she just cant help but swoon and coo at him, squish his cheeks and pepper his face with kisses!

Floyd doesn’t mind at all! And returns the favor! Of course, there are times where he isn’t in the mood, and Kyra is more than understanding. But no matter how upset or angry Floyd gets, he could never be at Kyra. He’ll come to her grumbling about whatever hes annoyed about and melt into her arms, and she’ll listen while carressing his hair and humming along.

Its hard not to assume the two are dating, when Kyra runs into his arms at match speed once hes in view, and he picks her up n’ spins her around like they didn’t just see eachother earlier in the morning. Hard not to assume they’re dating when Kyra tells him ‘I love you!’ So shamelessly in public.

Hard not to assume things when Floyd is so obviously, ridiculously soft around her. Absolutely smitten, you can practically see his heart eyes, paired with that lopsided, dopey grin. Not to mention the way his mood seems to do a total 180 and cheering right up when Kyra is around! He could never get bored with her, even when they’re doing nothing but laying in bed together in silence. Everything they do, in his opinion, as long as theyre together, then its fun.

Are they really that oblivious…? Theres no way… But, it seems as time passes, the realization is beginning to dawn on both of them! Its about time! (No, seriously. Everyone is sick of them. Especially Ace. Gags whenever he sees them being all “lovey dovey”, pun intended.)

— Kyra & Leona !!

After Book 2 Kyra basically looked at Leona and said “yeah, thats gonna be my big bro!” And ever since she just refuses to leave him alone. Literally.

Kyra sees the good in Leona, she knows deep down he does care for the people around him even if he says he doesnt. And she finds it so endearing!! She loves him dearly as her big brother, and wants to help him get his motivation back!!! (Has absolutely tricked him into doing his own homework by pretending it was hers.)

Though he won’t admit it, he sees her as a little sister and somehow takes pride in knowing she knows she can depend on him.

— Kyra & Malleus !!

The best of friends ! Late night walks where Malleus— or, Hornton, talks about gargoyles and Kyra listens, and talks about whatever comes to mind. Kyra always invites Hornton to Ramshackle for a little hangout, and she enjoys playfully bullying and bantering with him. Malleus finds it amusing how ‘brave’ she is, and plays along. What a funny little human!

Who could be a better friend than Kyra? She was practically meant for this! Platonic soulmates?? I think yes!!!!!!

They exchange random little facts, Malleus talking about gargoyles n’ architecture while Kyra talks about mythology from her world! (“He… Ate his own children…?” “Haha, yeah.”)

Kyra absolutely teaches Malleus brainrot. She has no regrets.

— Kyra & Adeuce Duo !!

Her day ones, and also victims of her Found Family Beam. (Seriously, shes just out here building a family like this shit is Toca Life 😭😭)

She especially has a soft spot for Ace! Even though she bullies him the most and they banter (and fight) like siblings, she cares for him more than she’d ever admit.

She finds Deuce adorable! His biggest supporter, even if she doesn’t like studying, she tries to help him whenever she can! (Jokes that Deuce is her favorite and she’d “throw Ace in the trash”.)

Adores the two with all her heart. Will always be looking out of them in both big and small ways, she trusts them entirely, fully! Would trust them with her life, but not with the food she was saving for herself.

— Kyra & Grim !!

She always found Grim so very cute! As an animal lover, she couldn’t bring herself to ever dislike Grim. Of course, they got even closer as time passed, and she cares for him like a son! Views him as such, and loves to cradle him in her arms. (In private, of course. The Great Grim has a reputation to keep up!!)

— Kyra & Divius Crewel !!

Same thing that happened with Leona, she kind of just looked at him and went “Mmm yes, father figure time!!!”

Although she doesn’t like to open up much, she often finds herself doing just that when talking to Crewel one on one. She feels as if she can rely on him.

Admires him a lot! Especially with his designs, she begged him to teach her some of his tricks that he picked up. Her biggest inspiration to pursue fashion designing as a career! Shes so thankful for him, as a role model and as a father figure.

“The world is so much more beautiful than most realize. Life is a gift. Don’t worry, you can rest. I’ll be right here until the sun rises again, and we can face tomorrow together.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

#🎀🕊️! Kyra #🎀! Oc #twst wonderland #twst oc #disney twst #twst yuu #twisted wonderland #oc #oc art #oc x canon #oc x cc #yuusona #twst #floyd leech x oc #floyd leech x yuusona

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memescomicswriting · 3 months ago

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It's Nice To Have A Friend

Chapter 4: You Weren't Mine To Lose

Summary: Fate is cruel on how it goes about obtaining its desires. It must be fate, because there is no other explanation for how perfectly molded Y/N and Helaena are to one another. They complement one another like opposite sides of a coin. Where Helaena is shy, Y/N is outgoing. Helaena has a photographic memory. Y/N has emotional inteligence. They have the right temperament to be the missing piece in one another’s lives. Ying and Yang. Then there are the boys. Love them or hate them, they’re there. Even the adults cannot escape the Targaryen chaos, and the fallout doesn’t spare the minors simply because they’re adolescents. Follow how Y/N and those around her carve out lives for themselves amongst the weight of the Targaryen legacy in a modern Westeros.

Word Count: 6.2k

Pairings: Aegon x Y/N, Aemond xY/N, hints of Jace x Y/N, Platonic! Helaena x Y/N, Father Figure! Harwin x Y/N, Mother Figure! Rhaneyra x Y/N, Mother Figure! Alicent x Y/N

Warnings: 18+ you’ve been warned

Lots of profanity, sexual innuendos, drug and alcohol use, boys being stupid jerks, infidelity, divorce, eventual smut

A/N 1: Chapters drop on Thursdays. Please, please, please, please share your thoughts. I wanna hear them. I don't bite, promise! Also, I lied about this chapter being signifigantly shorter. I reodered some parts for the story to flow better. Oops, sorry! This is for my Aemond girlies. My Aegon girlies, you'll have your turn soon.

Sereies Masterlist

Aegon pulled Y/N along by her mitten covered hand. It was winter, a harsh one. They were walking down a secluded trail, as the sun set, and old browning snow blanketed the ground. It was scenic. It was freezing.

“I swear to the gods, Aegon Targaryan, if you dragged me out here for some dumb prank or to try and make a pass at me then I’m going to-” She could see her breath as she huffed at him.

“Do what?” He was giddily mischievous today. Her annoyance only fueled his fun. She’d quit her whining once he revealed their reason for being out in the cold. Until then, he enjoyed her frustration.

“I’ll post that video of your Risky Business impersonation on my throwback Thursday.” It was a smug, looming threat- one she only brought out when she couldn’t think of anything he’d done recently. It was a video of him at thirteen practicing for a costume party. He thought the outfit made him appear cool and mature. That was, until he slid a little too far, lost his footing, and face planted. Y/N was recording for him to review his performance. She saved the video to five different locations before he could fight her for her phone.

Aegon shot her a dirty glare. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.” She tilted her head in that annoying, dareful way that made his skin itch.

“Fine.” He dropped her hand. He continued walking, but backwards so he could face her. “No high for you.” He turned and sped up his pace which forced her into a light jog to follow.

“High?” She questioned. Smoking Ashai root, or Shairo as it was called, was something Y/N brought up to Aegon months ago. As a freshman in high school, she felt mature and wanted to partake in the fun, just like how she now attended the parties. Of course Aegon of all people had a connection. She smelled the bottles of body spray he used to cover the scent.

“Yup.” He popped the word to accentuate his nonchalant persona. “Snitches don’t get prizes.”

“It’s technically not snitching.” Y/N mumbled under her breath. She’d caught up to Aegon by this point and tugged on his arm. “Why do we have to go out this far though? Why couldn’t we have just gone in the backyard.”

“And give Aemond the opportunity to snitch, huh!” He shook his head at her naivety.

“Ugh, fine, but isn’t this far enough?” “Gotta get to the clearing.”

“The clearing?” “You’re a green little girl. What if you crash out after your first hit? Gotta place you somewhere stationary.”

“Fuck you!”

“If that’s how you’d like to repay this kind gesture, I won’t complain.”

They’d stopped at a rather decrepitated set of tree stumps. It was one of the smaller clearings. In a fit of dramatics, Y/N crossed her arms and took a seat like he so rudely suggested.

“Good girl.” This made Y/N roll her eyes. She watched as Aegon took out a long, skinny roll, of what looked like wax paper from his pocket. He held it between his lips as he sparked the lighter, cupping it to secure the flame from the wind. Y/N watched intently. She wanted to know what to do so she wouldn’t look inexperienced when asked at a party. There was something about the way Aegon’s brows knit or his low grumble in annoyance. Y/N’s lips curved into a lazy crescent smile. He was almost endearing. Aegon’s eyes flicked from their half lidded concentration and landed on her. The roll was lit and he was emitting puffs of smoke.

“Have I ever told you how hot you look when you’re speechless, looking up at me with those dopey eyes.” And the moment was gone. Aegon was in a fit of giggles, dodging Y/N’s ire. He waved the roll above her head until she calmed down. Then he handed it over, showing what part to hold to her lips, and directed her to sit.

Y/N inhaled in as he instructed. The smoke burned her throat and lungs as she suckled on the roll. She coughed in little spouts as she tried to hold it down. Smoke poured out her nose by the end.

“Well, you’re definitely part Valyrian.” Aegon settled. “You didn’t choke nearly as bad as I’ve seen and the smoke pouring out your nose made you look like a dragon.”

“I get the purpose.” Y/N was struggling with her release of the second inhale. “But how do you enjoy this part?”

Aegon shrugged. “You just get used to it I guess. It becomes familiar and then kinda comforting.” He took the shairo from her so he could partake as well.

“And then we do what?”

“Relax, enjoy, hangout…”

“In the middle of the woods, when it’s freezing?”

“I’ll admit, it isn’t the most ideal place this time of year, but where would we go? I don’t have a car yet.”

“What about those gummy things I’ve seen people take?”

“Nah, you’re going about it the old school way like the best of us. I would be a poor bad influence if I didn’t give you the full experience.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. That was Aegon’s new thing. Yeah, he was popular in his class. How could he not be? He had all the right clothes, and socials, and the Targaryen status. It was just for his class though. To appear cooler to anyone older and to attract admiration from those younger, Aegon adopted the bad boy moniker. It wasn’t successful with Y/N. She’d seen him cry over animals in movies. He couldn’t appear aloof after that.

“So we just hang out.” She accepted.

“You’re stuck with me.” He mulled it over. “Till we get hungry. Then we rejoin society to raid a fridge.”

Y/N nodded. “Uh, my place. ‘Cause I don’t fancy Alicent’s bird food.”

“Ditto.” Aegon quickly replied.

After that, getting high became their thing. Before that, it was passively scrolling on their phones, but Y/N did that with Helaena as well. No, for the first time Aegon had something only he could do with Y/N. He’d often save up allowance and lunch money for these purchases. His excuse to have her all to himself. He wasn’t sure why he did it. Half the time he didn’t realize he was doing it.

The weather was warmer now and swimming in the lake was a possibility. Y/N was with Helaena for the weekend, but Helaena was indisposed for the moment. One of her insects, or maybe it was an arachnid, was acting strangely. Y/N couldn’t tell the difference, but she’d mumble agreements every now and then to Helena. Really, she was left to lay idle until her friend was done.

Aegon knocked on the doorframe of Helaena’s room. Helaena glanced at the disturbance but did not acknowledge him. Y/N, however, silently addressed him. Aegon held two fingers up to his lips, their signal. Y/N nodded and hopped off Helena’s bed. She began putting on her sneakers in preparation for the walk ahead.

“I’m gonna go on a quick walk while you finish up.” Y/N spoke to her best friend who waved her off. She figured Helaena had to know what they were going to do, but she really didn’t care so long as it didn’t interfere with her plans.

The pair walked down the stairs as warily relaxed as they could be. They still had that teenage anxiety of being busted by a parent. Much like a drunk person trying to prove they aren’t intoxicated, they were a bit off.

They made it out the door, but not down the driveway. Alicent and Aemond had arrived home from tourney practice. Y/N and Aegon exchanged a look- proceed with caution. Alicent paid little mind to the two cagey teenagers seemingly going on walk. Nothing a teenager should care about was nearby. Yes the lake, but a lake day without proper accouterments wasn’t something society born Alicent could comprehend. Aemond though, he knew better.

He wasn’t oblivious. The thick, weighted smell was easily remembered. No matter the amount of perfume or cologne sprayed, the oder remained pungent. Yes, they could slip past the adults to change, but they almost always encountered Aemond. He didn’t hate the idea of getting high. He wasn’t a prude. It was the intentional exclusion from Aegon and Y/N’s compliance that drew his contempt. He was too young, wouldn’t understand, couldn’t handle it. Well, he was as mature as the rest of them. In some ways, more than Aegon. So it rubbed the wrong nerve. Aegon had something with Y/N that he couldn’t, whether he actively knew it or not. Of course Aemond would never snitch on Y/N. Aegon alone, absolutely. So rather than alerting his mother, he played her to his advantage in a subtler way.

“Mother, since tonight is the live premiere, can we order pizza for supper? I’m sure Heleana and Y/N would appreciate it as well as I.” Aemond’s tone had become rather haughty lately. He always had an advanced grasp on his language skills, but the older he became his readings increased in intensity. Often, it reflected in his superior attitude.

He caught Y/N’s attention with the use of her name. Yes, she’d come over to watch a new Valaryian documentary with Helena and Aemond, but the release was scheduled for tomorrow.

Y/N and Aegon exchanged their confusion. “I thought that was tomorrow night.”

“Oh it is,” Aemond quickly elaborated. “However, the exclusive live exploration of the archeological site is tonight. Father agreed to purchase the viewing rights.”

Smug, that’s how Aegon would describe his brother’s countenance in perceived triumph. Aegon’s eyes narrowed, making it clear that he knew what his brother was up to. Aemond held his own, showing he knew his brother knew and didn’t care.

Before more words were exchanged, Alicent sighed her approval without looking up from her phone. The entire practice she’d sat on the sidelines scrolling reviews for exercise classes and personal trainers. “Whatever you like dear, but I expect you all to eat a healthy bit of salad along with it.”

“Of course, mother.” Aemond held a delightful innocent grin as his mother passed by to enter the house. Once she slipped inside, the facade dropped. Ignoring his brother’s seething, he addressed Y/N directly. “I’ll make myself presentable and then we can set up.”

“You go make yourself presentable, pretty boy.” Aegon didn’t hide the condensation he felt from his tone. “You can primp all you like while we walk, then you can watch whatever you like.”

Aegon went to take Y/N’s hand and pull her along. The stand off looked rather familiar. Similar to the battles they had as little children over a favored dragon stuffie. This time, Y/N was the toy being tugged from both ends. Much like the stuffend dragon, she felt little say in the battle of wills.

“Oh, but it starts in thirty minutes. Will your walk be that quick?”

“Record it.”

Aemond scoffed. “What’s the point of a live premier if you wait to watch the recording.”

Aegon pulled his free hand down his face in annoyance. “Forty-five minutes of delay and it’ll still be as insufferable as it was forty-five minutes before.”

“Then you miss out on the opportunity to submit inquiries in real time.”

“Oh no, whatever will you do if you can’t be one of thousands to submit the same stupid question about the same stupid rock?”

“It would be nice to participate.” Y/N slowly reclaimed her hand. Lately, she’d become inconsistent with the brothers. One moment she asserted her wants and left it up to them to follow. Another, she was demure and allowed them to go through their tense exchange. Maybe it depended on her reluctance to referee. Maybe she was caught between wanting to satisfy them both. Maybe it was something else.

“We can walk after.” Y/N offered as she gravitated towards Aemond.

Though it was reasonable, Aegon couldn’t allow his brother to be the top choice. “It’s now or never. I’ve got to meet up with Tarbeck and Redwyne later.” It was a lie, he had no plans, but if Y/N wouldn’t comply then he could always summon them and lick his wounds while shit-talking his family.

Aemond now acquired Y/N’s hand. Again, she was the toy being tugged. This time, Aemond was winning the competition by slowly escorting his prize up the front steps. “We’ll walk another time then.”

Y/N gave that apologetic grimace of sympathy that Aegon hated to be on the receiving end of. When he was the one it was directed at, it meant he’d lost. He hated losing, especially to his pompous prick of a brother. He gritted his teeth and groaned through them. He shoved his closed fists into his pockets and refrained from kicking at the grass. He didn’t want Aemonf to have the satisfaction of his temper. “Fine, fine, nerd out with the geeks. When you wanna have fun, maybe I’ll be around.”

Aegon’s angered surrender was enough satisfaction for Aemond. He and Y/N were in the house, so close to the finish line, Aemond allowed the glee to fill his stomach with butterflies. The celebration came too soon.

“Wait,” Aegon slyly feigned his acceptance. “Before I go, let me grab Helaena for you.” Both knew Helaena usually fed her pets around this time. That girl never broke her routines if she could help it.

Aemond hadn’t anticipated his brother having enough composure in his frustration to sabotage his plans. Underestimating Aegon would be his downfall. Helaena was feeding her pets which would take longer than Aemond needed. He also never told Helaena about the live premier, so she’d probably go straight into her drawing until dinner time. That would’ve left him and Y/N alone for over an hour. Aemond couldn’t help the strangled hum he let out. If he stopped Aegon, then it would raise questions he’d rather not answer. The arrogant little scholar couldn’t think of an escape from his own web.

“I’ll feed her little creepy crawlies since asking questions seems so important.” Aegon’s grin was a little too grandiose to avoid Y/N noticing something was up. Though she’d let it slide if nothing else came of it. Aemond recluded into his default lack of expression, signaling on the inside, all he wanted was murder.

“How generous of you, brother.” Aemond swiftly turned on his heel, retreating in the direction of his room. Gratified with his actions, Aegon added a bounce to his step on his way to retrieve Helaena. The lack of escalation allowed Y/N to convince herself it was all nothing.

…

The last party of the summer was as big of a blowout as the first. Maybe more so, because it was the final time a batch of overly privileged teens, who thought themselves invincible, let loose before parting for separate colleges. Y/N’s celebration into adulthood was no different. Helaena attended, though she spent more of her time enjoying the fire than the drinking or drugs. Or maybe she took the drugs and that’s why she enjoyed the fire so much. Aegon was off impressing soon to be freshman college girls with his seasoned university knowledge. Or whatever made it easier to get laid.

Aemond was the only challenge. Yes, he’d gone to parties countless times before. He even drank enough to be enjoyable during the first party of the summer. Somehow, at some point, his attitude towards their parties soured. He was grumpy and giving Y/N a hard time. She’d gotten him out of the house at least.

“If I need to be inebriated to enjoy their company, then I shouldn’t be expected to suffer their presence at all.” Aemond argued, but loyalty followed Y/N as they walked.

“You say that, but maybe it’s you who needs the alcohol to behave.” She quipped back, but he stopped and gave her a look that would intimidate many others. Not her. “Come on, Aemond, please? It’s the last time we can party together before I leave for school.”

Aemond crossed his arms and haughtily smirked. “You’ll be back.”

Y/N groaned. “Please, I’ll owe you a favor for your last party.”

Appearing reluctant, Aemond accepted her terms. Gaining his obedience always pleased Y/N. They made their way down the trail to the designated party spot. Everything was up and running. Hard liquor flowed from stolen and or purchased bottles. Many were over eighteen now; the legal age in Westeros. Someone even managed to drag a keg out.

Y/N made a drink for herself and Aemond. For a while, they managed to stay together. Everything was just right for Aemond. Aegon was out of sight, out of mind. Jace found himself a Haroway or Hillden to entertain himself. Helaena was somewhat occupied. He had Y/N all to himself. She never contemplated how his arm draped over her shoulder or when he tugged on her waist. It was just Aemond, the boy who used to drag her by her hand to show whatever new book or poster he bought. Aemond, the boy who often fell asleep on her shoulder during long car rides. Aemond, her best friend's little brother. His touch meant little to her, but her touch meant everything to him.

Eventually, she slipped out of his grasp. She’d gone to refill her drink and stayed away; not intentionally. Aemond didn’t notice at first. He wasn’t irritated when he did. He had others he didn’t loathe talking to, but after a while he found himself longing to be near her again.

Y/N was a social butterfly. Like Aegon, she was at ease conversing with her targets. She’d gone group to group and addressed those she wanted to, but landed on Alana Rogar and Lance Tyrell. Both looked so tasty, she could eat them then and there for all to watch. She hadn’t a preference for either. If so lucky, she’d take both. Her flirting wasn’t subtle, but neither was theirs. When Alana leaned in and melted her mouth to Y/N’s, she felt like a lightning struck wildfire. Alana parted and did the same with Lance. Finally, Y/N and Lance greedily devoured each other. They only hummed in agreement when Alana announced she’d bring her off road dragonback to pick them up. Then they could have some real fun.

Y/N and Lance had no shame. Each groped at the other over and under clothing. Both had a need they wanted filled, and both were more than willing to help the other. Hands under shirts, red patches forming on collar bones, and the two walked in tandem towards the trail where Alana would pick them up. Lance pushed Y/N up against a tree. She preened at his roughness and returned the favor by grinding herself against his tented pants. Just as she was losing herself in the satisfying rock of their hips, she lost the feeling.

Lance stumbled steps back. Y/N opened her eyes to see Aemond be the force that pulled him. Somehow the angles of his face were sharper, casting deeper shadows, and appearing menacing.

“What the fuck man?” Lance tossed Aemond’s commanding hand off his shoulder. Aemond retaliated by pushing Lance further and standing between him and Y/N like a platinum haired wall.

“Think you're some caveman tough guy here to snatch up the girl.” Lance’s fists balled as he dared to be face to face with Aemond. The adrenaline from the carnal encounter was shifting to something lethally primal.

Aemond laughed maniacally for being disturbingly restrained. It further enraged Lance. “No, but I know a perverted bastard when I see one.”

Lance took a swing on Aemond. They were practically blended into the trees. Y/N couldn’t expect back up when separating the two. Aemond dodged and threw his own punch. Less intoxicated and more grounded, Aemond’s swing was faster, harder, and it connected. Lance didn’t stand a chance. He fell backwards onto his ass and rolled further back from the momentum of the fall. Aemond was very pleased with himself.

Y/N snapped out of her shock and went to help Lance up, to Aemond’s disapproval. She tried reassuring Lance by suggesting they just walk away, but he wasn’t interested anymore.

“No, this shit isn’t worth it.” He shrugged Y/N off. “Alana’s getting her four wheeler and I don’t have to joust some douche for her pleasure.” Y/N protested, but Lance stormed off to hide his wounded pride.

Y/N watched him leave. Enraged tears welled in her eyes. Like an electric current, the fury pulsed through her body, and in a quick pivot she slammed Aemond’s chest. It was his turn to be sent stumbling.

“What the fuck is wrong with you.” Y/N roared. Aemond allowed her to push him again. “What in the seven hells is wrong with you!” She punctuated each of her last words with a shove.

Aemond caught her fists the final time and ended her physical tirade. “Lance Tyrell is a dickhead and you would have regretted going off with him.”

“Who gave you the right to make that call?” Y/N struggled against him.

“Don’t be stupid, you know I’m right.” Aemond faintly sneered and refused to let go.

Y/N roared. “Aemond.”

“I’m right!” He snapped, matching her volume and intensity. “You shouldn’t be entertaining guys like that.”

Y/N slipped her hands free by tugging downwards in one sharp motion. Her strength surprised Aemond. Her tone lessened in rage but grew in disgust. “That’s not for you to decide.”

Aemond grumbled under his breath. He refused to acknowledge that he indeed had no right to make that decision on her behalf. He wasn’t her father, brother, or boyfriend. Unfortunately, all he was, was Helaena’s younger brother.

Y/N was unsatisfied with his silence. “Why did you do that?” She was exasperated but refused his answer before he could give it. “No piss ass excuse. Why, Aemond?”

Aemond was pushed to his edge. First she dragged him here when he didn’t want to come to begin with, then she abandoned him, finally he finds her dry humping that ass wipe Lance Tyrell. It was more than Aemond could take. He was boiling over and she was at the fuel of his madness.

“I thought you were better than slutting yourself out to any guy who gave you a moment’s attention.” He sneered. “My mistake.” “Fuck. You.” Y/N slapped him. Aemond didn’t reject the hit. It reverberated in the night air. She was going to leave him, but her thoughts were too sharp not to let cut. “You give me your attention and yet I find sleeping with you repulsive. Must not be that much of a slut after all.”

She did her best to keep her head held high and suppress her tears. She didn’t want anyone at the party to make a fuss and ruin their fun. Aemond in turn let his frustrations out by screaming and kicking the dirt.

“You’re going to regret that.” Was all he could sputter out. Or maybe that was all she heard.

…

Time didn’t heal the wound. Yule was… icy. When Y/N and Aemond were forced in close proximity, a chill settled over the space. Eyes shot daggers made of icicles. Everyone noticed the obvious animosity between the two. Few addressed it.

Aegon, Jace, and Luke found humor in it when they could. Always away from Y/N. If she caught their remarks, she’d roast them alive over the Yule log. However, it was open season on Aemond. Sure he’d retaliate, but he’d never let it get out of hand and peak the curiosity of the elder adults. He wanted to continue the facade of the rift being a simple teenage squabble.

Aegon initiated the teasing. He was privy to the depth of the feud. Jace and Luke, sensing an opportunity to taunt the prick, joined in. Y/N would normally disperse the teasing before it got out of hand, but there was a void where Aemond’s best ally used to stand.

Aegon would ask, “Aemond, have you seen Y/N today?” Aemond would stiffen his posture and attempt a withering glare.

His response was always something like “No I haven’t,” or “You know I haven’t.”

Like sharks, Jace and Luke sensed the blood in the water. Aemond was uneasy about Y/N? Keep her around as often as possible. Invite her to partake in things Aemond enjoys. You’re going horseback riding? Let’s round everyone up and ride together.

Little jabs like, “You know who’s good at this? Lance Tyrell.”

“The Tyrell estate has great Yule lights. We should go check them out.”

“Guess who I saw today?”

Another favorite was, “You’ll regret that.” Though it was said in a jovial tone.

All hell broke loose, and the Targaryen estate turned into Thunderdome every time Aemond found a How to Talk to Girls pamphlet amongst his things. The hit list included: under his pillow, on top of his bed, inside the books he was reading, his car, and Vagar’s terrarium. Whichever boy was nearest received his tirade. The adults shrugged it off as boys pulling childish pranks.

…

Come summer break, Y/N, Helaena, and Aegon were due to return from university. Their college set up resided in storage units as their living arrangements differed in the fall. Out of brotherly love and duty- or Alicent’s behest, Aemond volunteered to help Helaena sort her belongings. He assumed Y/N wouldn’t turn down the free help, but gods she was as stubborn as him. Maybe she was prettier than stubborn. She had several well built members of the jousting league assist in moving her boxes. She made a display out of her sugar sweet compliments and feather light touches of gratitude. Aemond wanted to take a flamethrower and torch the world.

He tried to talk to her. She came back to the dorm for one final walk through and Aemond followed her out to her car. There wasn’t anyone or anything to buffer their interaction.

“You can’t stay mad at me forever.” Aemond hollered in her direction. He’d followed her out, but his footsteps hadn’t captured Y/N’s attention. She was unprepared for this.

Y/N stood at the driver’s door of her car. Her keys tightened in her hands but she refused to face him or climb in the car to drive away. Aemond took the lack of fight as an invitation to approach. He got as far as a hand brushing her shoulder before Y/N became a tempest of withheld rage. “You haven’t given me a reason to forgive you. So I can and I will.”

Aemond scoffed, she was being immature. Or, she was the immature one, to him. “I’ve already apologized. It’s been nine months.”

Y/N’s scowl was one of disbelief. “No!” He couldn’t be serious. “No you didn’t Aemond. An apology isn’t some ridiculously expensive Yule gift or a mumble in passing about how it wasn’t your best night.” She pushed his chest as she entered his space. Her temper radiated and forced him to take steps back. This was all too familiar. “An apology is an “I’m sorry. I fucked up. I let my jealousy blind me to my actions.” And then you make changes to your behavior that reflect your remorse. Ugh!”

She turned away once more. She couldn’t stand him. She wanted to return to their exile. The best she could do is withhold her gaze. Aemond was frozen, feet away on the asphalt as she made her final remark. “So no, you haven’t apologized.”

Aemond liked to think of himself as an unwavering, incorruptible pillar, but Y/N was a force of nature. She couldn’t always move him, but she could leave him battered and bruised. She was one of the few who could leave him uncomfortably still. She made him want to move, but somehow also pinned him in his place.

Helaena and Aegon returned to their childhood rooms. All Hightower-Targaryen children were together again. This go round, their parents were serene by comparison. It was agreed upon that until their youngest graduated college and was fully independent, they’d both reside on the estate but in separate wings. After that, Alicent would move out and move on. She’d always be welcome for family gatherings, obviously.

Y/N, true to her determination, claimed the pool house. Not much changed, just bed sheets and decor. The younger Targaryens and Velaryons gravitated to Y/N’s new set up. For one, there was the summer activity of the pool. The adults rarely made appearances in the pool house. It was unsupervised territory and there were snacks. It was a perfect impromptu clubhouse. When Y/N was over it, she’d kick them out till the next day- save Helaena.

That’s who she presumed was knocking on her door. The sun was setting and the sky turned all shades of pastel. Helaena was an unexpected delight. Y/N’d show her how far along she was in redoing the pool house. Helaena’d pick out a movie. Y/N would order something to be delivered. But it wasn’t Helaena at her door. It was Aemond.

Expensive wooden blinds covered the glass doors for privacy. Y/N couldn’t see Aemond lying in wait. When she swung the door open, ready with an open smile and a remark, everything faltered. Y/N’s mouth remained open, hung in surprise. Aemond dared turn up to her sanctuary, sneaking past the residents of the primary household, and stood as if he was an invited guest. In his hands rested a pizza box, a stack of favorite snacks, and the mini projector they used to use to watch vintage movies.

For someone who strived to be Aegon’s opposite, he certainly shared the presumptuous smirk. They started using it as boys when they knew their mother wouldn’t follow through on whatever punishment she promised. Grown, it was reserved for when they pulled one over on the other, or they were certain they secured a girl’s attention. Y/N went to slam the door in his face. That smirk was gasoline to her fire. Aemond stopped her by nudging himself against the frame, preventing her momentum from gaining traction.

His smirk faded into a gentle smile. “I know I fucked up and I know I should’ve made amends long ago. I couldn’t move past my pride and I see how ridiculous it- I was.”

Y/N remained mute but she stood aside to let him in. His eyes sparkled with hope. He looked around at the new set up. His heart panged in regret. He would’ve been here with her the last few days, setting up, but he missed the opportunity. Though different in appearance, the layout remained the same. He made his way to the kitchen and placed the peace offering on the counter. Y/N leaned against the archway that connected the kitchen to the living room. She was barefoot, in her pajama shorts, and an oversized university sweatshirt. Her usual sleeping attire.

She remained in place, arms folded and on guard. “If you haven’t noticed, your opinion means a lot to me. So those insults you freely discarded really took a dig at my self esteem.”

Something caught in Aemond’s throat. There was a deep seated urgency that drove his thoughts in quick succession. She valued his opinion. That was something he had yet to consciously think of, or maybe he did and his subconscious couldn’t believe it. It clouded his mind with unpinnable anxiety. She never required him to earn her consideration. She gave it freely and he dashed it’s worth against the rocks. She hadn’t clung to her anger. She clung to her hurt. Everything fell into place, he never needed to wait out or cool her fury. He had to bandage the wounds he blindly made.

“Y/N,” He pleaded earnestly. “I never wanted to make you feel that way. I was just, ugh!” There was a deep rumble from within his chest, directed at himself. “I was angry and frustrated-”

“And you let the green eyed monster take over.” She cut him off with the obvious. If she didn’t, he’d dance around it.

Meekly, he confirmed her observation. “Maybe.”

“Aemond.” Y/N took a step into the kitchen. Her moves were tentative to prevent any reflexive bolt on Aemond’s end. “Be honest with me, because if you aren’t you won’t like the result.”

“What?” He immediately shot back in nervous suspicion.

Y/N was blunt. Her voice was flat, giving no indications. “Do you have feelings for me?” She stunned him. Her words were the headlights and he was the deer in the roadway. There was a long silence, hoping for an interjection. There wasn’t one. Aemond was forced to speak, stuttering, “What?” Y/N again swept closer. Her tone remained without any indication. “Do you have feelings for me?”

“I,” Aemond tried to gather composure, but the anxiety already made its way to his very blood and pumped through his veins. “I don’t know. Yes? Maybe.”

Y/N held her breath till she was forced to exhale. The release broke their eye contact. Her hands became very interesting. Her fingers rocked back and forth over smooth palms. She swallowed to hold back the intensity of her unease. The bubble of plausible ignorance had burst.

“I… I know. I knew for a while now. I see it in the way you look at me.” She huffed. “Like I hung the moon or something. You treat me differently. You’re not as… gentle with anyone else.” Crystalized eyes looked up through damp lashes. “You shouldn’t. I thought that by playing ignorant it would fade with time. I didn’t want anything to change, and I failed to realize it already had.”

Feeling emboldened by the honesty that settled over the conversation, Aemond spoke up. His voice was freshly assured. “We’re not kids anymore.”

Y/N fluttered her eyes clear, melancholy at the acceptance. “No, we’re not.”

Aemond grew bolder, he took a step forward and tucked her hand in his. She allowed him to run his thumb over the dainty skin of her knuckles. It sent a shiver down her spine and to try hiding her gasp, she turned her head away. Aemond refused the escape. He took her chin between his thumb and index finger, directing her focus back to him. “I’m not Helaena’s nerdy little brother anymore.”

Y/N nodded ever so slightly in his grasp. He held her attention captive. The roles reversed. She was now the deer. “No, you’re not.”

It was then and there or never at all. Without the veil of naivety or shaky denials, Aemond took action. He cupped her cheek, tunnel visioned her lips, and went in.

His attempt broke the hypnosis that settled over Y/N. The deer made its dash. She slipped out of his hold and held herself. Before Aemond could fully feel the impact of rejection, Y/N surpassed his chance to speak. “I don’t know what I feel for you, but whatever it is, isn’t the same as what you feel for me.”

She dressed in a warm, sorrowful smile. A smile nonetheless. Though weary, her eyes hinted at a spark of hope. It was enough for Aemond, for now. He did not buck or bolt.

“I can wait.” It was as solemn as any vow he’d take. “I’ve waited for you for eight years already. You’re worth a thousand more.”

Y/N’s lip quivered. “What if I never feel the same?” It was a defiant, whisper of a question.

Aemond felt a familiar warmth spread from his heart. There was a sense of nostalgia which acted as the source of heat. Gods she was insufferable, but that’s why he fell in love with her. His eyes held the twinkle now. Like the sun reflecting off the water. Certain. “You will. I know you will because we’re meant to be together.” He brightened ever so slightly. “I’ve known it since the day we first met.”

Unironically, Y/N mumbled, “I’m sure shoving Aegon’s face into the dirt had something to do with it.”

He felt at ease enough to chuckle. Still, so certain. “Possibly.”

Worry reclaimed Y/N. He was too assured. “What if I develop feelings for someone else while you’re waiting? I don’t want you to be compelled to the sidelines forever. It wouldn’t be fair.”

Aemond’s breath faltered into rigidness. “I promise I will no longer interfere. It’s my choice to wait, and you’d be a hypocrite to interfere with that.”

Y/N nodded as her mind wandered off to the infinite possibilities. They made her dizzy. She steadied herself by collapsing onto a kitchen stool. Her head rested against her crossed arms, the counter barring her weight. As it just so happened, she’d tucked in right in front of the pizza box. She could smell the contents and they pulled her out of her plummet.

She raised her head, to Aemond’s surprise and delight, with a friendly smirk. “All this seriousness is making me hungry, and we have an apology pie to eat.”

A/N 2: Let me know your thoughts! I'll soon add post chapter discussions and share mine.

Next Chapter

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dc418writes · 3 months ago

Text

Fool Me Once…

✨Pairing✨: Ari Levinsonxblackreader, Pete Brennerxblackreader

Summary🪄: who knew grudges could be so deadly?

🚨: 18+ NO MINORS!!, kidnapping/abduction, very slight torture, choking, brief violence (man-woman, man-man), gunshot wounds (slightly descriptive), mention of blood, language, death, implied nudity, mention of bullying

A/N🎤: hello🌸! This is my submission to @witchywithwhiskey ‘s Slasher Summer Writing Challenge! I hope yall like what I came up with, and that you please check out the other works submitted for this challenge as well☺️💕!

*DISCLAIMER!: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were found via Pinterest*

Location: Lake House

Trope: Kidnapping

Quote: “I know how much you guys like games”

“You’re only gonna make things worse.”

If Ari had to guess, five minutes had passed of Pete yanking and toying with the shackle attaching his ankle to the brick wall. He swore if he could hit that small opening on the link just right, he’d be free.

“At least I’m tryin to do something rather than sit there with my thumb up my ass,” Pete retorts still yanking and jingling. “Don’t see you with any ideas.”

It was going on nearly a whole day of them being chained in the unknown basement. A cell-like barred gate keeping them enclosed from the other half of the space like animals at the zoo. The single light overhead dim, adding to the creepy appeal of the room.

“Because I’m still thinking of how to get out and not tip her off in the process,” Ari angrily responds.

Both men pause turning towards the basement door when the “her” in question begins to turn the knob. Two plates of food perfectly balanced on the tray in your hands as you descend the creaky steps smiling as bright as the sun both men wished so desperately to see again.

“Hi boys!” Pete already thought you were crazy, but from your bubbly mood acting as if this is just a get together among friends, he’d deem you certifiably insane. “I figured you were hungry so I brought sandwiches. Ham and cheese for you Pete and PB&J for Ari. I remembered you don’t eat pork.”

Sliding the tray through the small opening under the gate, both men suspiciously eye their plates - prettily set with sandwiches cut diagonally along with carrot and celery sticks - before Ari dares to bend down for his.

“Are you crazy?!,” Pete whispers. It’s no use though with you only a few feet away sitting crisscross on a wooden chair and able to hear everything being said.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t do anything to it. Can’t get rid of you before the fun silly!”

“And what would that be exactly?,” Ari asks sounding as serious as a judge.

“I know how much you like games, so I was thinking Never Have I Ever. Simple, but fun right?! ”

“As fun as a root canal with no meds,” Pete mutters under his breath. You ignore his words eagerly holding up your hand while you try to think of a good one. Your eyes tightly closed in deep concentration. He’s surprised to see Ari slowly hold up his free hand immediately quirking his brow to which Ari just shrugs.

“Just play along,” he simply mouths.

“Oh! Never have I ever been stuck in an elevator.”

Rolling his eyes, Pete begrudgingly raises his hand to bend his thumb down leaving him with four fingers left. “Your turn Pete!”

He sighs, “Never have I ever abducted innocent people. Huh looks like that’s two for you sweetheart.”

For the first time since either man met you, - two separate occasions of chance meetings and a simple drink - a flash of..something darkens your brown eyes. “Alright then,” you begin, slowly bending your pinky and ring finger, “Never have I ever hurt someone.”

“This isn’t hurting someone?!,” Pete retorts motioning to the shackle he jingles around his ankle.

“More specifically, never have I played a cruel prank on someone and embarrassed them in front of the whole freshman class!” Pete might be confused at your outburst, but Ari remembers that day vividly. The shy hope that soon turned to sorrow realizing the love letter was fake. How foolish you felt. He admits he should’ve done more in those days after when classmates would tease you about it, but like any high school boy his concern was himself and his budding popularity.

Leave it to Pete to keep getting him into trouble all these years later.

“…Wha- What are you-?”

“You really still don’t remember..” your laugh isn’t a humorous one as you stand with arms crossed over your chest beginning to slowly pace back and forth. “I shouldn’t be surprised seeing as though you only cared about yourself then and clearly still do now.”

“Or maybe I have more important things to do than sit around harboring some dumb, juvenile grudge from high school. Actually have a successful job like a grown adult.”

“You made high school hell for me! If it wasn’t your snide comments anytime I’d answer a question in algebra, you were messing with me in the hall for no reason!” A lone tear falls down your heated cheek that you quickly wipe away. “Then you just had to make things worse with that letter pretending to be Ari. Claiming how he liked me and wanted to meet in the alcove after-,”

“Wait..” Leaning against the gate, his cerulean eyes partially squint as if he was finally seeing who you were. Maybe even realizing the error of his ways for once. “The alcove where-,”

“You sent both me and Ari under different guises. When I told him about the letter, he had no idea what I talking about and then enter you with half the freshman class.”

“Aww looks like someone was rejected by her crush,” young Pete laughed along with the rest of your peers that surrounded. “And would ya look at that, she even had a little present for you Levs!” You couldn’t care less about your floral picture - now crumpled and stained with dirt - running through the crowd just wanting to get away. Needing solace anywhere but there to cry as freely as you wanted feeling your heart shatter.

“Why, huh?,” you quietly ask. “What did I do that made you hate me so much?”

A sigh passes his pink lips raking his fingers through his almond strands no longer in that perfect comb over like that night you met him at the bar. His gaze sympathetic; opening his mouth once, but failing to immediately produce any words as if his throat was glued shut.

“N-Nothing, you did nothing okay? I was just a…a dumb kid doing stuff I thought was funny, but they weren’t. I’m sorry I did that all those years ago and…I’m sorry for not apologizing sooner.”

Admittedly, you weren’t expecting to ever get an apology from Pete. Egotistical and self centered, you wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t know what a genuine apology was. But hearing those words, you feel that decades long wound slowly begin to close.

“Forgive me?,” he asks holding out his larger hand between the bars of the metal gate. As expected, you’re apprehensive taking turns looking him in the eyes and at his outstretched hand. “I understand if you can’t or won’t, but I still want to try and make things right.”

Part of you doesn’t want to, but you know the righteous thing to do is to let that pain and bitterness go. For your mentality’s sake at least.

The moment your palm touches his, a squeak falls from your lips as you’re yanked in closer - nearly crashing against the bars of the gate - before Pete’s hands wrap around your neck squeezing as hard as he can.

“Let her go!,” Ari yells trying to pull the man back with his muscular arm around his neck, but he’s quick to headbutt his childhood friend causing him to stumble backwards. Ari’s nose pulsing from the impact as he checks for blood. “You’re gonna kill her!”

“Better her than us!,” he responds tightening his grip. You try to claw and punch at his hand, but every second your brain doesn’t get its needed oxygen, it’s hard to focus. Your eyes beginning to droop and movements slowing as Pete simply chuckles without remorse.

“At first, I wanted you in the looney bin. Now, I think it’s best I get rid of you. Just to make sure you don’t do this again, yea?”

A pop and sharp pain to his leg is what finally has Pete loosening his grip as he howls in pain and you fall to the wooden floor regaining consciousness. “What the fuck?!,” he shouts clutching at the gunshot wound to his calf turning to see his friend holding a black hand gun. “You had that the whole time?!”

“I told you to let go.”

“Let go? She’s the psycho that took us!”

“And you’re the conniving liar that’s stolen money from too many people to count. Including my family,” Ari states still keeping his gun trained on the bleeding man in front of him.

It didn’t take much convincing on Ari’s part to get his parents to invest in Pete’s business. They practically saw him as a second son, so of course they’d do anything they could to help.

Time went by and they never saw any money though.

“These things take time man, just..trust the process!,” Pete responded when Ari brought it up. So he did, until his father became ill. The hospital bills kept coming and coming giving him no choice but to go to Pete again.

Except this time he couldn’t be found. His phone no longer in service anytime he’d try to call. There were rumors he’d moved out of state; some even said out of the country. Either way, it was as if he’d disappeared leaving Ari and his mother struggling to pay for the funeral let alone the remaining hospital payments.

From the pale and clammy tint to his skin, Ari knows he needs a doctor. He can’t seem to care though daring to step on his injury making Pete scream.

“Where’s the money?”

“What money?!”

“Don’t play dumb!,” Ari practically growls stepping a bit harder on the hole in Pete’s leg.

“Ari stop!” At the hoarse voice, both men turn to look at you still on the group gripping your bruised throat. And the way his Adam’s apple bobs gazing at you with eyes full of concern, Pete shakes his head realizing what was in front of him all along.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he chuckles to himself. “Her?! Of all people!”

“Shut up,” Ari grits bringing his attention back to the bleeding man.

“Way I see it, you should be thanking me then. I practically brought you together, although I’d rather not take the credit for setting up my best friend with scary spice.”

In one swift movement, Ari has the gun pointed to Pete’s head. His lower leg still oozing crimson red as he winces from the removal of Ari’s boot covered foot.

“A-Ari just let him go,” you plead. “He needs help.”

“Not until he gives me what he owes.”

“Jesus you two really are perfect together..”

“You really wanna play around with this gun to your head?!,” Ari asks pressing the metal against Pete’s temple. “Money. Now!”

“The money’s been gone!,” Pete shouts back at him. “Businesses have expenses a-and then you grow and others come along-,”

“You never meant to give that money back,” Ari mutters.

After all this time he had a feeling. Basically hearing it confirmed though still has a pang of hurt and guilt expanding in his chest. His mother was near homeless - trying to do whatever she could to keep their house - and it was his fault for trusting his so called best friend.

“Look alright we can work something out!,” Pete bargains with that charismatic smile too many have fallen victim to. “I can try to find something for you around the office or-,”

“No need,” Ari responds lowering the gun to aim for Pete’s chest and pulling the trigger once. The loud pop making you scream as you cover your ears to stop the ringing.

“Oh nonono..,” you whisper to yourself watching more red pool from Pete’s lifeless body. “T-That wasn’t part of the plan!”

“I’ll take care of it. Just go upstairs.”

“Maybe he’s still alive? Y-Yea we could call 911 and get them to help! Just say it was an accident-,”

Amid your panicked rambling, you don’t notice Ari release himself from his shackle before unlocking the barred gate to get to you. His hands gripping your arms so you’d look at him and clearly hear his words.

“No! No 911 or anybody else alright? I’ll take care of it.” Although still afraid, you simply nod letting Ari tilt your head so he could look at your neck marked by Pete’s hands. If he wasn’t already dead he’d kill him for that alone. “It hurt?”

You gently shake your head. “N-No, just a little sore.”

“Good. Now I need you to go upstairs. I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

“But-,”

“Upstairs, now baby.” That quiet, demanding tone always has your body listening as if solely controlled by his voice. Your shaky legs turn towards the basement stairs leading to the main floor of the lake house not daring to let you look back when you hear dragging and muted thuds.

Numb is the best way to describe you striding to your shared bedroom, then the bathroom. Turning on the warm water of the shower head before shedding your clothes to let the droplets caress your skin. The only thing you can seem to think of is Ari pulling the trigger without a second thought and Pete’s eerily still form. His eyes solely gazing at Ari even after the light had left.

You figure you’ll always have that image plaguing your memories. Unable to truly, and happily, live in the present as your past involvement haunts you.

A cold hand to your shoulder has you jumping deeper under the water raining down overhead. You would’ve nearly fell had Ari not secured your body to his.

“Just me sweetheart. You’re alright.”

As he leans past you to grab the washcloth, you notice the red staining his hands. Those same hands that just killed and disposed of a dead body now so gently washing you with the shower gel he loved to smell on you.

His lips leave chaste pecks along your neck while the cloth runs along your chest, stomach, then your arms one by one. “I love you.”

At this moment, you struggle to say the same. The man behind you wasn’t the same man who reached out that random spring day wanting to make amends for his part in your pain along with genuinely wanting to catch up. He wasn’t the same man who made you fall in love with him all over again bringing back those feelings you thought you left in high school. The man who swore no one would get hurt in this perfect plan for revenge he created.

Nevertheless, turning to meet those soft, near-crystalline eyes, you can’t deny the patter of your heart. How it still yearned for his touch, his being, and sought him out for comfort. Your fingers gently scratch along his beard before leaning up to let your lips press along his.

“I love you too Ari,” you whisper.

#ari levinson #ari levinson x black!reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson au #red sea diving resort #pete brenner #chris evans #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x woc!reader #slashersummerwc

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return-to-twisted-wonderland · 11 days ago

Note

🔆anon

Fun fact, if Kit didn’t disappear, she probably would have been very close to Kalim in personality. If less extroverted.

Intentional ignorance and all.

— —

Disappearing Children: Kit

—

Vil doesn’t know if he is truly unlucky anymore. It is certainly what he thought when he first had the responsibility of a young child dumped on him, but actually spending time with Kit is not so bad.

The Kit he’s used to has always been snarky. Hiding a sharp mind and a sharp tongue under a saccharine mask. Yet, if this is not some elaborate prank, apparently Kit was the exact opposite as a child.

She is still a child with energy and impulsivity, sure, but she is just the sweetest thing. She loves to spend time quietly watching Vil, or anyone in the dorm, even if she does interrupt every now and then. She also loves having Vil style her hair, and she seems to love him doing small amounts of makeup on her so she can look exactly like him.

And she actually listens to him for once. Vil is finally free of the teaming freshman undermining his every order.

One thing does feel shocking though, is Kit admiting to her creative mind. Vil was always aware she had one. No one does as much scheming as her without one. No one gets into Pomeifore without one. But she seems to revel in doing anything creative. From simple drawing to Vil allowing her to play with some cheap makeup. It seems to be the most fun she’s had in forever.

She also mentions having a favorite movie that Vil remembers being in all too well. A simple holiday movie Vil worked in with Neige when they were kids. Her not recognizing him as the villain is another thing Vil isn’t sure if he’s lucky to have or not.

He at least wishes Rook could have seen more. But alas, Rook was the only one Vil could have sent to grab Fellow and Gidel with certainty the job would be done in a timely manner.

For as much as Vil wants to deal with a Kit that won’t try to undermine him at every opportunity, he knows it’s not only important for them to be updated on the situation, but also be involved if they can be. It does deal with her well being after all.

—

Vil: *standing at the gates to NRC wih Kit around midday*

Kit: *looking around while Vil holds her hand to make sure she doesn’t wonder off* Those place looks so pretty!

Vil: It definitely does.

Kit: Can I come here again?!

Vil: I don’t think you have to worry about that. You’ll definitely see this place again.

Fellow: *quickly walking up to the gate with Gidel and Rook with him* Kit?

Kit: *turns her head to Fellows voice and feels Vil let go of her hand* Fellow?

Fellow: Kit! *runs up to her, giving her a big hug* Are you ok? How do feel?

Kit: *trying to squirm free* I’m fine! And you look weird.

Fellow: I probably do don’t I?

Gidel: *puts a hand on top of his head before dragging outwards and over Kit’s head, comparing their heights*

Fellow: Yes, yes. You’re taller now. That’s what four years does.

Kit: Who is he?

Gidel: *looks sad*

Fellow: *pats Gidel’s head* Don’t worry, she probably won’t remember a lot of things. We can help her. *turns to Kit* This is Gidel. He’s part of our family now too.

Gidel: *nods before hugging Kit*

Kit: *happily hugs back*

Gidel: *breaks the hug and tries to give her the hammer*

Fellow: Don’t.

— —

Screw Crowley, Kit will get her family time! And I do this, so I can actually write the Fellow angst.

He’s not free from the pain.

(Practically wholly unrelated side note that for some reason this snippet made me think of. Snow White takes place in Germany, and that’s why Vil has German roots, right? So why is Rook French? Neige means snow in French too, why is he French? Is it just because of ‘romance’?)

Gidel, please do not give Kit your hammer

(one of the jokes is that Rook just likes the french culture and only knows a few words in French)

#twisted wonderland #return home au #🔆anon #kit honest #fellow honest #twst gidel #vil schoenheit #disappearing children

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bari-the-witch · 2 years ago

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Steddie Fic rec PART I

Some of my personal favorites I could read over and over again. You can all find them on AO3:

The shire is NOT on fire by kissesforcas (50k+ words, Rating E)

The kids convince Steve to take them all to a Renaissance Faire and LARP event. Steve has more fun than he admits. And then Steve has a LOT more fun than he admits.

Comment: One of the first Steddie fics I read, love it!

Wouldn't it be nice (if we could wake up) by kissesfarcas (100k+ words, Rating E)

Steve finds his pulse. He carries Eddie out of the Upside Down, he keeps his heart beating until they get to the hospital. And then the government intervenes, that shady part of the government? With Sullivan? And he and Eddie wind up locked up, together, in a cell. There's one bed, and glass walls, and it turns out that he and Eddie? Might need each other more than either of them thought they might.

Comment: It's Kas Eddie, what more can I say?

this is what fallin in love feels like by plutoelegies (50k+ words, Rating M)

“For the sleeping thing- I get it. I really do. So you’re gonna get in my car and you’re gonna sleep in my guest room until you look more like a person and less like a Night of the Living Dead character.” Steve said, a tone of finality in his voice.

“Steve, man, I couldn’t ask you to do that.” Eddie said.

“Good thing you’re not asking. This is what we do, we take care of each other. Because if we don’t, nobody else will.” Steve said.

Or: Eddie has nightmares, Steve has a sexuality crisis, and while they’re busy co-parenting some freshman kids, their unlikely friendship begins to turn into something more.

Comment: Season 4 Fix-it with nightmares and a good old-fashioned sexuality crisis

The Adventures of Eddie Munson, Cheerleader by bookworm1805 (20k+, Rating E)

The moment the basketball players walked into the gym, all hell broke loose.

Curses were spat. Teenagers whispered in scandalized tones as their nikes squeaked over the polished wood floor. Prayers were chanted. Somewhere across town, a baby probably cried.

Eddie Munson grinned.

Eddie borrows Chrissy Cunningham’s spare cheerleading uniform as a prank. The ensuing chaos tips his entire world on its head, for the better.

Comment: This is so funny (and hot!)

Steve Harrington's Guide to Planning a Party (Without Blowing Up) by Anonymous (80k+ words, Rating T)

In a way, Steve was kind of grateful for the swift intervention. He knew now, after all, that most people in the world didn't have the ability to pick out people's emotions, and in a town like Hawkins he wouldn't have lasted long if he commented on every feeling he encountered. It was the reason why despite everything, he had turned out normal, despite all of life's attempts to turn him into something other than a popular somewhat dim-witted jock.

Comment: I'm a sucker for Steve has Powers! It's so so good and well-written.

Must Have/Can't Stand Checklist by deludez3 (60k+ words, Rating E)

Steve decides to move to Chicago for a fresh start after everything is settled with Vecna. Three years later, he returns to Hawkins for the kids’ graduation and rekindles some feelings he discovered years earlier for Eddie.

When Eddie offers his apartment for Steve to crash at to stay longer in Hawkins, Steve can’t say no. Sure he was supposed to drive home on Sunday, and sure he was supposed to work that week, but how could he say no to those chocolate button eyes?

Comment: Eddie and Steve become temporary roomates - hot shenanigans ensue.

someone else's favorite song by fastcardotmp3 (100k+ words, Rating E)

“Not sick, not sick,” he slurs, and Eddie wants to see his face, wants to hold it in his hands, wants to look him in the eye when he says, “just sad. Sad. Fuck… fuck, sad.”

“Why are you sad, big guy?” Eddie asks.

Steve laughs again, but it’s sharper this time, it doesn’t last as long, because as soon as the words slip out of his mouth— “My mom’s dead—”

—it walks that treacherous line between the two sounds and morphs straight to a broken sort of sobbing that reaches directly into Eddie’s chest and drags out his heart.

- A friends-with-benefits relationship goes complicated when who Steve and Eddie are to one another shifts with the coming of a new sort of tragedy.

Comment: This is the best piece of Steddie fanfic I've read out there, I swear. MUST READ

Sanctuary by SpicedSage (40k+ words, Rating E)

After Steve Harrington goes missing, Eddie Munson gets exposed to the secret dangers of Hawkins, Indiana in 1985 instead of 1986.

Will a different first meeting lead to a change in his fate?

Comment: Eddie helps Steve after he got captured by the Russians post Season 3, the characterization is so so good in this one.

More will follow :)

#steddie fic #steddie fic rec #steddie

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askjeffsterling · 8 months ago

Text

"Cause we all just wanna be a big rock star."

wait, is that JEFF STERLING they kinda look a lot like ROSS LYNCH, don’t they? i heard the TWENTY-ONE year old is known as the PUNK ROCKER around mckinley. it seems like they auditioned to be in THE WARBLERS which is so lame? people at campus have said they’re CREATIVE, but don’t be fooled since they’re also ONE-TRACK MINDED. rumor has it, you can find them at N/A when they aren’t belting show tunes. their entire vibe revolves around GRUNGY UNDERGROUND CLUBS, LEATHER JACKETS AND WORN OUT JEANS, CALLUSES FROM GUITAR STRINGS and YOUR HEART RACING TO THE TEMPO OF A SONG but no one pays attention to that here in ohio.

Auditioning with Hammer by Point North

Jeff didn’t have a bad upbringing. He was the child of two loving parents, who did whatever they could to support him. That wasn’t to say that he made it easy for them though. Jeff was always getting into trouble in school. Whether it be a prank on another student, or the consequential fight that would be a result afterwards. But no matter what, they always went in to bat for him, and always made sure he knew he was loved and supported.

That wasn’t to say that Jeff wasn’t smart, though. Academically, Jeff thrived. He could cram for a test the night before and ace it. But he just wasn’t interested in it. School bored him, and the only thing that could hold his attention was music. Freshman year of high school, Jeff picked up a guitar, and he hasn’t put it down since.

In senior year, Jeff was so sure that music was the path he was supposed to take that he almost chose to for-go college in order to pursue getting signed to a record label. His voice wasn’t bad, but it also wasn’t outstanding- and playing guitar could only get him so far. Being a quitter was something that wasn’t going to happen though, so instead he started a band. He’s fine to share the spotlight, so long as he gets it.

His parents pleaded for him to at least give college a try- they didn’t care about whether he attended an Ivy league or not, just that he went. He agreed with their request to keep them off of his back. So with them paying his tuition, he now attends just enough classes to not flunk out- whilst focussing as much time and energy as he can on his band and getting them noticed.

BASICS OF JEFF;

Name: Jeffery (Jeff) Sterling Pronouns: He/Him Hometown: Lima, Ohio Birthday & Star Sign: April 10th - Aries Relationship Status: Single and mingling Sexuality: Pansexual Occupation: Event promoter Sports/Clubs: N/A Glee Club: Dalton Academy Warblers Major: Art

WANTED CONNECTIONS;

Best Friend: His ride or die. The person who can bring him out of his shell and knows all the little inner info that he doesn't let anyone else see. Ex-Relationship: There was chemistry, there was a connection, talking, casual dates etc. But for some reason one (or both) just couldn't make it work. Could be amicable, or there could be tension. Current Love interest/FWB: Everyone needs someone to lean on when it comes to pent up sexual frustration. Could be as simple as a one night stand to a small fling. Nothing super deep, or the love of his life. Enemy : Pretty self-explanatory. They cannot stand one another. Could be something that's happened in the past, a general differ in character, anything really. Bandmates: The people he's trying to make a living with in this crazy life. Bandmates could be super close, have an understanding that they're both a means to an end, or lowkey despise one another. So much room for many options! *Definitely open to anything else also! If anyone is looking for something to be filled and thinks Jeff could be the man for the job, I'm more than happy to assist!

#wmacintro

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marshmallowprotection · 2 years ago

Note

yooo one romantic mysme matchup s'il te plaît? having gone over the rules i do apologize in advance if what i initially submit is fairly wordy of sorts, so i will save you the troubles of placing that disclaimer now 👍 thanks much

entp || aries || ravenclaw || adult || pansexual || asian || she/they

appearance: long dark brown wavy/curly hair, glasses, with dark brown eye, 5’2, with that simple light southeast asian melanin 😮‍💨

aesthetic type: dark academia yet with my own twist of things either softening up my style or making do what i can to feel eccentric and bold

music type: very alt rock, indie rock, soft rock like the Beatles, music, classical symphonies, kpop or just any music from asia for the most part, any music genre I’ll still enjoy them

favorites/hobbies : playing the violin (10+ yrs), spicy noodles, boba, kbbq, hotpots (shabu shabu), psychological, horror, mystery, thrillers, cuisines and delicacies from any culture! exploring

currently obsessed listening to: midas by skott

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

in depth personality analysis i’m not entirely sure how i should describe myself. though in simplistic terms, i’m an over-thinker. i’m always thinking of something and how i could possibly better my opinions and opportunities in my life years from now far beyond what i could possibly imagine. it’s more than overwhelming to think so far into the future yet in a spilt second of thinking like so turns that into hours of just me pondering, daydreaming, pacing back and forth my room of what could be versus what should be. i’d like to call this my hobby and my talent. the ability to just really let time pass by without having done anything. though that’s just if i don’t have others around me to ground me and place me back into reality. which I’m more than grateful for. because i’m a natural over-thinker it’s only fair i were also the type to self indulge myself into the wonders and realms of fiction,fantasies, and religion/spirituality. and what better way to richen up my fantasy world/life than to read books of old holy prophesies, books of old folklore and mythology? i’m a reader and ever since i started working, i now currently possess a humble library. i’m a also a freshman college student majoring in biochemistry. with the potential thorough thought and impulse of me joining the navy and make use of its money to become a doctor (let me become a psychologist). that’s another great fact about me as academic or even formal as i may write and speak i absolutely love action. and will never miss an opportunity to go on some sort of adventure. just like the hobbits in JRR Tolkien’s/Christopher Tolkien’s middle earth sagas. speaking of which i’m a huge geek and nerd. i’m usually pretty fidgety especially when i’m thinking. i absolutely need to be pacing the floors or just fidgeting with one of those true genius puzzles or just plain play dough. going back to that action sometimes or actually most times the only reason why i like being in such stressful environment is because it helps me ground myself and get be back into reality and really notice what it is i need to be focusing on at the moment. and i’d say i thrive fairly decent under stress and under pressure. which some say is the reason why i can be a good leader, but i’m a jokestar, i pull pranks i pull jokes wrong time or not it’s one of the ways i cope. yet despite all this chaos of whatever is in my mind i like to think i’m a pretty approachable person except apparently my tone of voice sounds demanding and sarcastic. not my problem i’d say. though another reason some are intimidated by me is simply of the fact that i’m a boasting loud bubble of energy but will instantly shy off the moment a conversation to me feels awkward or of irrelevance. other relevance perhaps of any significance many of those who i call friends and or are close to all tend to be a lot of smart quiet people. i like people who are quiet to the point where it seems intimidating and they deem to be heartless and cold. but that’s just me as long as whoever i’m with is a decent human being who’s also pretty smart then we can hit it off right away and become friends.

I match you with...

Jumin!

People might assume that you are somebody who has everything together all the time. They think that everything might come easy to you but that's not always the case, y'know? It's very human to feel as if you're all over the place. Your thoughts are like a bouncy ball that never quits. You're always thinking about what comes next or what's behind you, and that means it can be hard to figure out what you're supposed to be doing in the present. You know what you're supposed to do and the things that you should do, but they don't always align with what you want to be doing. Sometimes, you just want to be in a world of your own where there's nothing to worry about but the dream. You need somebody in your life who can pull you back in from a daydream and show you that life is worth the trouble. Most of all, you just need somebody who makes you laugh.

That's why your match is someone like Jumin Han. People don't always understand him either. They think that he's cold or calculating but in reality, he is somebody with a great sense of humor who can make you feel safe and secure. With him, you don't have to worry about formalities. There's nothing messy in the middle. You know where you stand with him and it helps any insecurities or worries you may feel in the night. Nothing he says can be taken out of context. He says what he means and he means what he says. He knows what you mean when other people might assume that you sound dry or upset. You're cool under pressure and so is he. It's why the two of you are perfectly balanced since you can lean on each other when the other feels tired.

What he loves the most is being able to talk with you about whatever you're reading and caught up with. If there's one thing he loves, it's being able to focus on the intricacies of a fantasy world when he isn't knee deep in business work. It means more when it's coming from something that interests you.

#mod kait #ask #matchup

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caocao-caokie-blog · 2 years ago

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Art from Picrew @zumizumi1254

Yusef Al-Nazari

Dorm: Scarabia

Age: 18

Grade: 3rd Year

Birthday: September 18

Club(s): Mountain Lovers Club, Gargoyal Research Society, Globetrotters Club

Best Subject: Astrology

Worst Subject: History of Magic

Unique Magic: Diamond a Dozen

Forms crystalline structures on where he wants to cast his unique magic. As heavy and as hard as diamond, he can stop whoever is causing havoc or causing problems for him. It can be used multiple times, but each new crystalline structure, depending on how big or small it is, will cost a lot or a little of his stamina. He can remove the creations after, but after they are created, and without him dispelling them, the creation will stay indefinitely.

“O heed my call, shards of clear light, or green envy, or ripe rage, protrude out and capture my foe! Diamond a Dozen!”

———————————————————————————————————————

A coy and mischievous man, Yusef never takes a break in chaos. Especially with the dorm leader Kalim, to the chagrin of Jamil. Although his looks may make him out to be a party animal, he much prefers to move his body without much of a crowd. He used to be the dorm leader until Kalim arrived. Why he succeeded his position to Kalim is still up to debate, though no one is complaining with the constant parties buzzing about.

He can be found on long treks in the dormitory’s desert, adventuring for who knows what. But, whenever he comes back to the dorm, he has one or two of trinkets that seem to appear out of nowhere. He does caution to the others to avoid venturing to far out, but does make sure to leave markers for those lost during his trips.

Part of the Nazari family, he excels in creating and appraising jewelry. Part of a distinguished familiy in the Scalding Sands, he has traveled all over the world too learn of the crafts to take on the family legacy. But, if presented with questions about what he will do after graduation, he simply shrugs and laughs it off.

He is introduced to Yuu or whoever is transported into Twisted Wonderland through the same way you meet Malleus: Trespassing!

Is it really? You don’t own it- Shut up narrator, it is my home ಠ_ಠ.

You don’t meet him until the second time they meet Malleus, and a few cameos here and there maybe. He would quickly dip until the Scarabia and Pomfiore arcs, where he most likely stayed in Scarabia to take care of the kids, which then turned him into a puppetservant for Jamil to use.

He tried out for the VDC and got in, where you get to see more of him. He would most likely set up pranks on people like Jamil or the freshman, but that’s about it. Stuff like spooking them, moving items slightly, maybe taking them, or slipping ominous notes.

———————————————————————————————————————

Friends:

Kina; His snake who he has owned for a long time. Unknown age, but she seems to enjoy basking in the hot sun when Yusef is away. He says he has had her since he was but a child, and her, an egg. He diligently takes care of her, feeding her mice and other small creatures. She returns the favor by being a menacing body guard to people who think the man is just an aloof idiot.

Kalim: A ball of what could only be a piece of raw sugar or the sun incarnate, both him and Kalim get into a lot of trouble usually. Took a shine to him when Kalim and Jamil came, and was at first distrustful and outright dismissive of Kalim from the start, especially with how his family status bought him a seat at Night Raven, and how he was told to “pass on the torch” of the dorm to another person.

After a few weeks, he started to warm up to Kalim and his leadership. With the lackadaisical rule of Kalim, he was eventually won over with parties and fun. Now, he love the boy to death. But, he will talk to him seriously from time to time.

Jamil: Not oblivious to the hatred and faux kindness directed towards Kalim at the start, thinking that he could turn Jamil if he wanted to, against Kalim, and reinstate himself as dorm head. But, as fate would lead him, he grew to take care of the boy, taking care of his chores and simultaneously causing another mess for Jamil to clean up. If you asked Jamil, he would sigh and be both frustrated and amused by Yusef’s actions.

Yuu: The magicless prefect of the abandoned Ramshackle dorm. Yuu’s first impression of him, and his impression of Yuu, wasn’t off to a good start. While Yusef was apathetic to Yuu as a whole, Yuu thought bad of him for laughing at Kalim as he was burning. The second time they saw each other was during his time with Malleus. While he was there, he didn’t want to stay and intimate the Prefect more, right? Because he’s so scary.

Yuu got to know more of him during the Scarabia Arc. He opens up about how he felt about the situation with Kalim and Jamil, and him trying to help them get along, especially since while he wanted to tell Kalim the truth, he would need to do so subtly in order to not be accused by the Scalding Sands’ Government of being an internal or international spy for some organization. To bad that ended with an overblot. You see him during the VDC tournament too!

Jade: Although they don’t seem like the types to interact much, they talk fairly quite often. The hyper-fixation Jade and Yusef has are somewhat close, but their personalities, to the rest of the NRC Student Body, seem somewhat incompatible, especially with Floyd already filling the role of the excitable man to Jade’s stoicness. There was one thing the had in common; adventure. That’s why he signed up for the Mountain Lovers Club, in order to both research and discover new flora, fauna, and breathtaking views.

Jack: Another odd pair, but he like to move his body quite a lot, so it isn’t a surprise to see him on a morning jog with Jack. They seem to have grown a camaraderie through the shared passion of running. This was especially true, due to the fact Yusef told his history of being on the Track & Field team, winning gold 6 times for each Track Meet. Sadly, Yusef couldn’t fit in Track & Field into his schedule anymore, and decided to quit the club to focus on other hobbies and clubs, albeit, he does coach here and there in the clubs to help prepare the members for competitions if he has time.

Epel: Again. Odd alliance. What do they have in common? Nothing! One day, they both happened to just meet each other, and bam! They just clicked. He can be seen talking to Epel about his hometown and the unique flowers and fruit that are in his home. He begs Epel to show him pictures some day, to the boys puzzlement.

Malleus: They met at their first orientation, and never looked back. One of the only people that actively hang out and seek him (Besides Yuu and the Diasomnia students). He invited our precious Tsunotaro to a walk around campus in the middle of the night. Even when told of what Malleus is, he shrugged it off and laughed at how ridiculous it would be to shun the man when they were the same age, and were at least amicable with each other. They stick like glue, and have created a new group with Yuu, formulating the Gargoyle Squad (Name pending approval by Yuu and Malleus).

———————————————————————————————————————

He is part of 3 Clubs. Even if the limit is 1 club, the nature of the other two clubs make it so that he is able to join another club and to found one too! The Globetrotters Club was created to have people talk about their homes and to where their culture there, also finding pride in diversity of the school body. But, it has now become another pseudo-cooking club and photography club, due to the absence of Yusef for most of the clubs founding. He has left his Vice President to handle most of the basic day to day issues, and some documents needed for the club. There are currently 7 members, but are visited by the rest of the student body.

#twst oc #twst headcanons #twst

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campbluelake · 2 years ago

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And the world is spinning, and she keeps on winning | ████ 3.6 | Re: Yall

She isn’t sure how to feel about this. So much is happening in her head. Hibiki’s words are ignored because she knows she’d try to attack the man for talking shit about her dads right now. Of course there is relief with Saya no longer threatening to end their friendship. Jacky-Bobby gives her pause. Was that the problem all this time? She didn’t like herself? Abbie tact on that maybe if she can’t like herself then she should have confidence in her friends. As it looks despite everything she still has some people on her side, as long as she accepts responsibility with a little more grace from here on out at least.

Then Yua. He wants an explanation.

“You… You want to know about them…?”

With her free hand she nervously strokes one off her pigtails.

“… I guess it doesn’t matter if you all know, huh? I can’t imagine what I can say now can make you all hate me any more than you already."

Plus if she’s dying it’s not like they can take her in, right? Haha.

"Um. Okay."

Mason’s arm gets squeezed for a moment, for support. She still doesn’t let him go. He’s very needed right now.

"My first kill was in my freshman year of high school. A girl named Ryan Bishops. I, uh, I was her ‘friend.’ I was a weirdo, her weirdo as she liked to call me. We called each other friends but really she was my bully who just let me sit with her and her friends at lunch. No one was allowed to push me around because only Ryan had the benefit to… I hated her. I hated her so much but I was so desperate I didn’t do anything about it. It was Halloween and she called me to meet her at this shut down theme park near town. When I got there this… This masked clown person showed up with a bat and started chasing me around the place, swinging their bat, trying to hit me. I fought back in the funhouse… Of course it was Ryan pulling a prank. While she was on the floor laughing at me I… I just…” For a moment her eyes look far away, staring at the fire. “I just didn’t think. I think I snapped. I remember grabbing the bat and just… I kept hitting her until she stopped screaming… I walked to a payphone and called my dads. They took care of it."

"In my sophomore year, a different school, I did make a nicer friend. Dani Alamilla. She was real sweet and soft and I thought we were really good friends because it seemed like maybe we were outcasts together, y'know? Well… There was this big house party and I wasn’t invited. She wasn’t either, so she said. The night of the party I was really bored so I snuck out and decided to check it out anyways. I peek through the window and I see… Dani. Hanging out with people. Having fun. Smiling. I was furious. I called her the next day and demanded answers. We met up at the local park at night and she just confessed that she was lying. She had this whole social life she was keeping away from me because… I don’t know. Something about not wanting to hurt my feelings. I was so angry and I pushed her. Well… The park had these concrete stairs. When I pushed her she… She didn’t survive the fall. I think that’s when I started to notice that there was something really wrong with me because… I didn’t feel bad? I didn’t. Ran home and dads took care of it again."

She finally seems to snap back, her face grimaces a little. The next one makes her feel a little sick.

"New school. Junior year. I met this girl… Io Hunt. We met and we clicked instantly. We started dating and it was 24/7 honeymoon feelings. Months and months, nonstop. I loved her as much as a dumb 17 year old could. I thought we were soulmates. We told each other everything. I thought we were going to be together forever. So naturally I didn’t want secrets. I told her about my dads, about Ryan and Dani… She seemed fine at first but… She snubbed me for like two weeks until she invited me over finally. I was so worried because I thought she was going to break up with me. When I got there… Well. She stabbed me."

Her hand subconsciously rubs a spot besides her lower stomach, feeling a fleshy line.

"She tried to kill me. I think I told someone here that you should never bring a weapon to a fight unless you really know how to use it. Io was many things but a proficient knife fighter was not one of them. We fought and I was able to finish what she started. Somehow I was able to sneak back, bleeding like a pig… Dad went to clean up while papa stayed home to tend to me. He was *sooo* scared. So scared I was going to die."

And now look at her. Half way in the grave.

"After Io went missing her dad came by and accused me of having something to do with it. He never liked me. I think he knew something was wrong with me. Dad wanted to get rid of him but Papa just packed our stuff and we left again.

And the last one. Um. I will admit this one wasn’t really my proudest moment. Shiloh was pure revenge and nothing else. Petty. In my senior year I was able to perfect being a pretty girl next door. It was me but just more, y'know? I got into the popular group, joined the cheer squad, and met Shiloh Tinamou. Head bitch. We hated each other the moment we locked eyes. It was just one of those things where you knew you wouldn’t get along. It was social war between us. Half way through the school year Shiloh was basically destroying my good name. Talking behind my back, rumors, turning my friends against me. One day I had everything I wanted and next I was basically a social outcast. He had fully destroyed my reputation. He made my life a living hell… School ended and everyone went off to college or whatever. I didn’t. I became obsessed thinking about how much I hated that guy. I wanted to kill him so bad but he left for school. It was only pure luck that we didn’t move yet and I got a job at a clothing store. I was 20 years old when Shiloh walked through the door. He was back from school on break and he remembered me. Of course he was still a huge bitch. I clocked off and tailed him around the mall. I learned he was having a party… That’s when I decided to kill him."

Again, Mason’s arm is squeezed.

"I grabbed a change of clothes, an axe from the garage, and drove to Shiloh’s house. I stayed there all night. I counted every person who came in and every person who came out. It was morning when Shiloh was alone… I went inside. I chased him around his house. I killed him. When I called my dads for help they were sooooo mad. I had never seen them so angry before. This was petty, this was needless. It didn’t have to happen… They were even more mad because they couldn’t clean up everything up in time. It was huge news. A house full of holes and blood and no body… We moved to Florida after that and I started going to fashion school."

And as she said before. She was doing so good. She hadn’t killed anyone since. Now Warrick.

”… I guess now you can all judge me fully. I have no more skeletons.“

#ch3 #trial #johanna

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drowningswimmer · 2 years ago

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Thursday Night Thoughts

Nobody prepares you for your life to fall apart. One minute you’re moving into college, making all these friends, and the next you’re sitting in a doctor’s office being told you might never be able to swim again. Your family asks you how you’re doing, and you say “It’s great! I love everything about it!” but you don’t tell them that you had to withdraw from your English class because you were failing. You think that maybe being a student-athlete might work until the surgery that will end your pain will end your career.

You go to physical therapy twice a week. You do your exercises and get frustrated with your physical therapists every time they make you stop because you’re in pain. You want to cry and say that you can do more, that this is nothing, anything to speed up the recovery process. Losing your friends, your teammates, and your family seems like the end of the world. One minute you’re making goals, everything seems to be looking up, and the next you’re crying in the athletic trainer’s office relaying the orthopedist’s bad news. You don’t even care if you’ll be good again or not, you just want to swim. You just want to not have to modify lifts again. You just want to be okay again, in manageable conditions without paying money to feel that way.

Feeling like you’re letting a coach down is one of the worst feelings. They didn’t sign on for this. Bringing in a recruit, a new commit, and an ecstatic freshman should be great. There shouldn’t be problems. They shouldn’t be getting day-to-day updates from the athletic trainer on the plan for practice that day.

But hey, at least you’re doing good in your classes, right? Wrong. Having so much on my plate with classes, homework, practices, physical therapy, and doctor’s appointments, I could go on and on and on. It’s not easy. Do you have the grades to show for it? B’s, yeah. The withdrawal from English is certainly screwing you up. But you’re the oldest child—the one that always seems fine, so how are you supposed to reach out about these issues? You’re one of the only non-bio majors in your class, how can you compare to their workload?

But it’s worth it. It’s worth it to have your nightly roommate movie and tv show nights. It’s worth it to be friends with everyone in the athletic trainer's office. It’s worth it to finally see your work pay off in the classroom and the gym. It’s worth it to have your teammates care for and check in on you when you’re not doing okay. It’s worth it to say you made it through hell and got out on the other side a little scraped but otherwise fine. You made it. You’ll make it. It’ll be hard, but you’ll make it.

Your world might crumble in a matter of minutes. Mine did. It might have been minutes at a time, spread over weeks and weeks and weeks. The straw that broke the camel’s back was an orthopedist’s appointment. Getting told that I might never swim again and that he felt the surgery that could potentially change my life wouldn’t be worth it was horrendous. It felt like I was being lied to—or on a prank show. That the surgery that could fix my shoulder might make it worse. I cried on the way down in the elevator because I was so tired. So tired of more and more shit being thrown at me over the years, and this could be the worst of it all. So, I break down in the trainer’s office. I let them tell me everything’s going to be okay, that we need to make some decisions, and that they’ve got me to take all the time I need. I cry again in my coach’s office, telling them again what just happened.

I still go to physical therapy twice a week. I still break down in the locker room after kicking with my silly little kickboard for an hour. I still feel isolated. I’m still benched indefinitely while we work on my shoulder strength. I can’t tell you everything’s going to be okay yet, because I’m still fighting.

#mental health #athlete mental health #swimming #swimmer

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fuckyeahdindjarin · 2 years ago

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Grays

Frankie Morales x f!reader

{ Grays Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Grays Part II }

Rating: M

Summary: Frankie wants you to cover up his grays. You want to knock some sense into his salt-and-pepper head.

Warnings: Insecure Frankie in need of self-love comes with his own warning, Reader is a hairstylist and has a related nickname, no physical descriptions other than that Reader has hair that can be dyed, not-quite-friends to *respectfully looking* dynamics, mentions of hair, gratuitous descriptions of the male body, sexual innuendos, lots of teasing and banter.

Word count: 4.8k

Notes: The origin story is here if you missed it. This is dedicated to my Frankie soul sister LJ @prolix-yuy who encouraged me to write this many months ago ❤️ As always, I’m an anxious mess writing for a new-to-me Pedro boy, so please be gentle with me (cos it's my birthday week) 🥺

I have a part 2 (with smut) in mind. I love where this leaves off, but who am I kidding. I probably won’t be able to help myself 😂

The bell on the door chimes with a sweet tinkle, cutting through the low, insistent purr of the hair clipper buzzing in your grasp. You don’t look up as you spy broad shoulders and a battered Standard Heating Oil cap crossing the threshold out of the corner of your eye.

‘Are you lost, Morales?’ you drawl indifferently, focused on the task at hand. ‘I have an appointment with Pope today, not you.’

‘He booked it under his name. Thought you’d take it as a prank if I called in myself.’

You look up to meet his gaze reflected in the mirror sitting in front of Greg, your current customer. ‘I wonder why he’d think that.’

Frankie shrugs, leaning against the reception counter with his arms crossed. ‘Beats me.’

You snort. ‘Really? You’ve insisted loudly and repeatedly for as long as I’ve known you that you don’t see the point of going to a hairstylist when you can have Pope cut your hair with kitchen scissors in his bathtub.’

‘C’mon, Shiv.’

‘Oh, he knows my name,’ you gasp sarcastically. You turn to Greg, who’s clearly amused by this exchange, and loop him in. ‘He usually just grunts at me.’

At this point, Ashton - your apprentice and all-round salon maverick - makes an appearance. Clearly having caught the tail-end of your conversation with Frankie, he glances between the two of you with an arched eyebrow. ‘Are we back to chasing customers away, boss?’

‘Sit his ass down but he doesn’t get a free drink,’ you instruct. ‘I’ll get to him when I get to him.’

Ashton goes ahead and ignores your orders point blank, per usual. After hanging up Frankie’s jacket and settling him at the station furthest away from you in the far corner of the salon, you see him sneakily give him a coffee. He can never resist the handsome ones.

You take your sweet time with Greg, cleaning up his sideburns, even though you’re basically done with him - just to tick off your waiting customer.

Not that it works, and you know it won’t. He just sits there, his wide frame filling up the chair, still as a rock. The dog-eared, months-old magazines strategically placed on the table for idle reading lie untouched. That’s Francisco Morales for you.

You’ve been orbiting each other since sixth grade, as all kids in your close-knit neighbourhood do. In fact, most of your customers went to your school.

You don’t even remember how it started - probably at a sleepover - you discovered one day that you’re handy with box hair dye. By freshman year, you were colouring your fellow classmates’ hair in the girls’ toilets after school, earning enough pocket money to keep your cabinet at home fully-stocked with new hair products on rotation.

Your ever-changing hair colour got you into trouble with the headmaster more times than you can count, who nicknamed you Shape Shifter. Your friends abbreviated it to Shifter, then over the years, whittled it down to Shiv, and it stuck.

After being gifted a set of styling scissors for Christmas one year, you started hanging out at the neighbourhood salon, hustling for an apprenticeship. You practised what you observed on your fellow students, giving out haircuts on the bleachers on non-game days for a couple of dollars (the fee waived if something went disastrously wrong).

That’s how you first met Benny - his then cheerleader girlfriend took him in for a haircut when it got too long for her liking. When you eventually opened your own salon years later, he was your first paying customer, having come home after being honourably discharged from the army.

During the early days, when you struggled to fill your appointments and he couldn’t win a fight to save his life, you made a pact. You would do his hair at a heavy discount for his posters and promotions, and in return, he would let you use his photos for the salon’s marketing.

And it worked. Well, not that you had anything to do with him turning his fortunes around on the MMA circuit, but he had everything to do with getting customers through your door. It only got busier when Santi joined the ranks a couple of years later, and even though Will only shows up when his hair gets really unruly, they both sit in front of your camera with no complaint in return for mate’s rates.

Having these guys on your salon’s social media keeps both the gents and the ladies booking up your appointments.

Frankie Morales, though, is a different animal.

When you finally appear over his left shoulder, his coffee is all gone and he meets your eyes in the mirror nonchalantly. He’s leaning his whole weight on his right elbow on the armest, his left arm outstretched and blunt nails tapping on the table, the only hint of impatience he’s giving away.

He’s good at that - he’s the laid-back one out of the boys, the one who hangs back and observes with arms crossed, but quick to crack a grin and throw in a wicked barb when the occasion calls for it. Nothing ever seems to faze him, and probably nothing does - you hear that makes a good pilot, and from what Pope lets on, he’s a damn good one.

It also makes for highly effective bait for the ladies. He’s a popular fixture on the local bar scene - let’s face it, all of the boys are. You’ve seen him in action more than once when Benny or Pope invites you along on a night out, more often than not without Will since he had a baby girl with his high school sweetheart last year. Frankie’s brooding, quiet, beer-sipping act often works better than Benny’s over-the-top flirting or Pope’s Casanova bit.

But that’s neither here nor there.

Hands on your hips, you goad him, ‘Alright Morales, how do I know you’ll pay up, you cheap bastard?’

‘Pope says to put it on his tab.’

‘Music to my ears.’ You tap him on the shoulder. ‘Sit up and off with the cap.’

With a grumble, Frankie lifts the cap up by the beak, ducking his head as he does so. He tosses it onto the table offhandedly and shifts in his seat, but you’re not fooled by his unconvincing air of indifference. From the way he plasters his palms to the top of his denim-clad thighs, as if to stop them from fidgeting, you know he’s feeling vulnerable.

You can’t say you’ve ever seen Frankie without his headgear - now that you think about it, he’s been wearing it since high school. Heck, he might have gone through several incarnations of that blasted hat in the years in between. You’ve caught glimpses when he lifts it up to fix his hair, but otherwise, all you see is what peeks out from underneath, the longer wisps that coil around his ears and the curls at the back.

As it turns out, there’s really nothing to hide - sure, the cut is blunt and his hair lacks shine, but both can be easily fixed. You step into his space and comb through his locks, starting at the base of his skull and working your way up the sides.

The contact startles him - he practically jumps out of his skin, and you don’t miss the way the veins on the back of his hands pop and he digs his nails into his legs.

'Easy, boy,' you soothe with a teasing undertone, earning yourself a glower from the pilot. As much as you enjoy needling him, you do want your customers to be comfortable. So you let slip a deliberate but genuinely appreciative hum as the dark tendrils, subtly tinged with grays, part softly at your prying fingertips. ‘Wow, your curls are really thick.'

He looks up, an unsure frown on his brow. ‘Oh. Is that bad?’

‘No, Morales, it’s definitely a compliment,’ you tell him encouragingly - your bark has always been worse than your bite. ‘What do you use to wash your hair? It’s a bit dry.’

He shrugs. ‘Shampoo.’ At your insistent stare, he snaps, ‘What?’

‘Don’t lie to me, Morales,’ you warn him in a stern voice.

He huffs and gives in. ‘Fine. It’s a 2-in-1 body wash. I get it at the gas station, happy?’

You shoot him a smug grin as he rolls his eyes. ‘Well, you’re using proper shampoo from now on, and conditioner.’ He opens his mouth, a complaint on the tip of his tongue, when you hold a finger up at him. ‘Don’t argue with me, mister. I’ll throw in a couple of bottles on the house to get you started.’

‘Fine,’ he concedes. Unfailingly polite even when grumpy, he adds, ‘Thanks, Shiv.’

Your trusty swivelling stool screeches in protest when you drag it over on its wheels, before you take a seat and address the elephant in the room. ‘So - I’m guessing you’re here because of the wedding.’

You get a grunt in response. Scratching a particularly scrappy patch of his beard that has turned prematurely silver, he says, ‘My ma says I should cover up my old man grays for it.’

You snort, shaking your head. ‘Ha! And you tell your mother I say - hell no, ma’am! I will do no such thing.’

Frankie blinks at your unexpectedly adamant response. ‘What?’

‘I said, hell no,’ you repeat. Turning his head to the side with two fingers on his stubbled cheek, you comb his locks upwards to study the way the grays blend in softly with the umber, matching the ashen flecks in his beard. He doesn't start as badly at your touch this time, but there’s a telltale tick in his jaw, and you can almost hear the tension that thrums just below his skin where a late summer tan still lingers.

‘See how your grays are mainly coming out on the underside?’ you point out. ‘I like the way they just peek through the brown, it gives more depth to your curls. Natural highlights, if you will.’

He looks unconvinced and swipes at a smattering of silver with dismissive fingers. ‘Dunno. Thought the grays make me look old.’

You chuckle. ‘You’re no spring chicken anymore, Morales, and I mean it in a good way. Grays are natural - they will look even better when you start using actual shampoo and conditioner. Trust me, the salt and pepper works on you. I’m not dyeing your grays, and that’s that.’

For the first time today, Frankie turns his head and looks directly into your eyes. ‘My mother’s coming back to town for the wedding, you know. And she remembers where you live.’

You laugh. ‘Go ahead and send her my way, you know I’m not scared of her.’

He scoffs at your big talk. ‘You should be.’

Your relationship with the Morales matriarch is complicated, to say the least. She was always hard on you when you were a kid, thinking you were too wild and undisciplined. Now that you’re grown, you’re still torn between your admiration for her as a single mother who raised a good man, and the woman who never tires of dishing out criticism, warranted or not.

You give him a reassuring pat on the back, solid and warm under your touch. ‘Leave your mother to me, Morales. The grays stay, and I’ll make sure you steal the show at the party.’

‘Your funeral,’ he quips.

‘You just worry about getting yourself to the wedding,’ you retort, cracking your knuckles. ‘Now, are you ready for some pampering?’

Frankie rolls his eyes, but you see the corner of his mouth tick up in a vaguely upward direction - and you take it as a win.

‘Relax, Morales.’

‘I am relaxed,’ he insists through gritted teeth.

‘You’re about as relaxed as a cow on the butcher’s block. Unclench.’

For someone as economical with words as he is, his body certainly says a lot. Every single part of him seems hellbent on making his discomfort known. He breathes a frustrated exhale through his nose, brow deeply furrowed, his glare burning holes into the ceiling.

The leather seat of the backwash barely contains his tall build, his t-shirt stretched to the seams across his chest as he leans back into the basin. He’s bouncing his left leg irritably, the tight denim straining against his lap.

You try - valiantly - not to gape too obviously at the conspicuous bulge nestled snugly between his thighs under his belt buckle. But you can’t avert your eyes from something of that size. It’s against the laws of physics. Or something.

Even from where you’re standing, at the top of the basin peering down the slope of his body, its heft is clearly testing the structural integrity of the zipper of his jeans. Imagine the view from the other side -

Clearing your throat, you bodily press down on Frankie’s shoulders which are coiled up like the hood of an angry python, forcing them to loosen up. He jerks as if he’s a copper wire and you’re electricity. You tease, ‘So sensitive. You act like you’ve never felt a woman’s touch before, Morales.’

‘You know that’s not true,’ he growls at you, the prominent vein in his neck starting to pulse in frustration.

‘No, you’re right - I do know,’ you smirk, dragging out your syllables.

Your tone has him frowning at you, upside down. ‘What do you mean by that?’

‘I mean - I know,’ you repeat with a conspiratorial wink.

He narrows his eyes at you. ‘What do you know, Shiv?’

You wriggle his eyebrows at him suggestively, enjoying yourself far too much. ‘I own a salon, Morales. I hear things from the ladies about town.’

One large palm reaches up to shield his face in embarrassment, a pained groan escaping between the gaps of his fingers. ‘For fuck’s sake - kill me now.’

You laugh, wrestling his hand from his face to with an impish grin. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve only heard good things so far - Frankie big boy Morales.’

He blushes so hard that his ears and neck go a livid red, and for a minute, you’re actually worried that he’d pass out from not enough blood reaching his heart. Not keen on the prospect of having to explain to the emergency services that you teased the poor man into an aneurysm, you turn on the water and cut short your little chinwag with a good-natured chuckle.

His hands are still tightly clamped around the armrest when you carefully run the shower head along his hairline and behind his ears, soaking his curls. His biceps flex from the tight grip and the lean muscles strain against the sleeves of his t-shirt.

At least he closes his eyes when you start with the shampoo. The velvety lather froths as you patiently wash his hair, which clings to his wet curls like vanilla frosting. The deep crease between his brows eases with each gentle swipe into his locks, and the invisible force pulling his lips downwards slackens. By the time you rinse out the bubbles, you don’t miss the way the tension in his body unwittingly goes with it down the drain.

When your nails slide slickly into his hair with the conditioner, his stubborn body finally, slowly unfurls. His head tips back of its own accord, baring the column of his strong neck as he leans inadvertently into your touch. Colour returns to his knuckles when he releases his death grip on the backwash.

You smile to yourself, scraping your fingertips along his scalp in a firm massage, watching his chest rise and fall as he teeters on the brink of consciousness.

As your thumbs trace a confident path down the back of his skull, they appear to find a particularly sensitive spot near the base of his neck, and it's as if a switch is flipped. You witness the exact moment he breaks - his back arches off the leather seat, his obstinate lips part with a strangled half-sigh catching in his throat as he yields his full weight into the palm of your hands.

If you're not careful, you could get used to this.

‘Still with me, Morales?’ you tease quietly.

He garbles incoherently, and you grin.

Frankie practically molds into the chair like warm wax when you shepherd him back to the styling station. You’re so chuffed with yourself that you don’t even feel the need to gloat at the way his eyes are glazed over and how his head lolls into the soft pressure when you run a fluffy towel through his hair. The man recoiling at the mere brush of your fingers a distant memory.

You run an assessing eye over him, brushing out his locks to gauge your game plan. ‘I like this length on you, so I’ll just trim the split ends and tidy up your sideburns. You’ll benefit from some layering too - it’s a bit heavy on top right now.’

From the way he blinks owlishly at you, you know he doesn’t catch a single word. He shrugs and says matter-of-factly. ‘You can’t do worse than Pope.’

The salon is quiet this afternoon, as it tends to be on Wednesdays. You let him enjoy the peace for a little bit and tap your foot to Ashton’s playlist as your styling scissors move over his curls in metallic snips.

‘Tip your head forward for me,’ you instruct, sliding around the back of his head on your wheels as you probe, ‘So - how are you feeling about the wedding?’

The fabric of his t-shirt bunches over his shoulders as they quirk noncommittally.

‘It’s just a few days away.’

He makes an indifferent noise. But you’re not so easily dissuaded from conversation, and he knows it.

‘Can’t be easy - watching your ex get married.’

Frankie pins you with a long-suffering stare in the mirror. ‘We broke up a year ago.’

Getting onto your feet, you ruffle your fingers through the crown of his curls. ‘Yeah, but you dated for years. She sure moved on quick.’

He huffs a sardonic laugh. ‘Thanks, Shiv.’

Swapping out the styling scissors for blending shears, you argue, ‘What? It’s a legitimate observation. I’m just making conversation here.’

‘Or we could just sit here quietly.’

Ha. As if you ever listen to him. You press on, ‘Why did she invite you anyway?’

Frankie’s sigh sounds a lot like surrender as he humours you. ‘It’s a damned if she does, damned if she doesn’t kind of situation, I guess. The whole town’s invited.’

‘You sure she isn’t trying to flaunt it in your face or something?’

‘Flaunting implies I still care. I don’t.’

You give him a juvenile nudge nudge, wink wink. ‘Well, on the bright side, you’ll definitely get laid, being the heartbroken ex and all. Chicks love that shit.’

He dispatches a side-long stare in your direction. ‘I’m not heartbroken, and that’s not why I’m going. And you know none of this is any of your business, right?’

‘You’re no fun,’ you pout.

He quips, ‘As a professional hairstylist, you really should be better at making polite conversation.’

You snort. ‘Do you really think it’s a good idea to call me rude when I have scissors in my hands?’

Frankie watches you work in the comfortable lull that’s settled between you, gliding the blades along strands of his curls pulled taut, before running a fine-toothed comb through to brush out the loose tufts. Soft coils land on the floor around his chair as you work your way methodically through his layers.

‘Are you going to the wedding?’ he asks eventually.

You shrug. ‘Maybe, depends on my schedule. I gotta say, I’m kind of curious to see how tacky it will be.’

At his eyebrow sternly cocked, you argue, ‘I know she’s your ex and all, but she’s always been a bit tacky. I mean, that remodel of your house was just tragic.’

Frankie frowns. ‘How do you know all this? You’ve never been to my house.’

You wink. ‘Benny tells me everything when I do his hair.’

He pinches the bridge of his nose. ‘Of course. Benjamin fucking Miller.’

You give him a pat on the shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, I’m on your side, if it helps.’

‘I don’t need you on my side.’

You flash him an insufferable grin. ‘Too bad, Francisco. I am and there’s nothing you can do about it.’

The hairdryer drowns out any further conversation, and Frankie quietly studies you as you cord your fingers through his hair, ruffling it as it dries.

It’s still a bit damp when you switch off the hairdryer and reach up to pull a couple of jars from the shelf above. ‘On the day of the wedding, I want you to wash your hair just before you style it. You have a hairdryer at home, right?’

He throws you a pointed look. ‘I’m not a heathen.’

You grin. ‘Down boy, just checking. Now, you’ll dry your hair until it’s still a bit wet, like so.’ Presenting the styling mousse to him, you say, ‘Then go on and grab some product - you only need a dollop.’

He dips his index finger into the pot, scooping up a generous blob. Your attention is unexpectedly piqued at the sight of his hands.

Have they always been so big?

Realising he’s staring at you in wait, you shake yourself out of it. ‘Ok, rub the mousse onto your fingertips and run them all over your hair, combing from root to end.’

Frankie does as he’s told, face set to a serious scowl as he impeccably goes over each section of his locks, staring into the mirror to make sure he gets every strand. For the first time, you see the pilot in him up close, and you wonder if he’s this thorough about other things, like -

Laundry, your mind interrupts as it careens on the brink of the metaphorical gutter. Get your shit together, Shiv.

‘Good,’ you smile when he’s done, hoping he doesn't see the strain in it. ‘Now, I want you to rake your fingers through the roots when you dry your hair all the way.’ In demonstration, your nails burrow into the base of his thick hair, then you wriggle your fingers upwards towards the ends. ‘It will give you lots of volume and really show off this cut.’

Passing him the hairdryer, you watch him critically in the mirror. He imitates your movements, a bit clumsily and far too cautiously. Leaning down to his ear so he can hear you over the whir, you instruct him, ‘Don’t be gentle, Francisco. C’mon, harder, deeper - don’t hold back.’

He chokes and pins you with a wide-eyed stare in the mirror that glances right off your oblivious self. Along with your words, nothing about this exchange would register in your head in any other way until much, much later tonight, when you replay the conversation in your head in that limbo between sleep and wakefulness.

It may or may not have you squealing into your pillow in latent embarrassment - and something else.

But for now, you’re happy with the way his hair has set, and you gesture for him to switch off the hairdryer. Turning his chair towards you and away from the mirror, you scan your eyes over him and make small adjustments - tucking a couple of strands behind his ear here, a couple of final snips there.

As a final touch, you bury your fingers into his locks, dragging your fingertips through the roots to impart a final tousle so that the curls are loose and soft. You preen at the way he sways into your contact, all shyness gone, his hooded eyes half-closed - before he seems to catch himself and sits up with a self-conscious ahem.

Grabbing a small bottle from the shelf, you say, ‘Last thing - your beard is a bit dry as well. This oil will keep it nice and moisturised, just two or three drops after you wash up in the morning will do.’

Tipping his face up by the crook of your finger and opening up his neck to you, you smooth the ointment along both sides of his jaw, rubbing circles into his neatly trimmed whiskers and all the way up his sideburns. Sliding downwards, your hands seek out the closely shaved stubble tucked beneath his chin. Then, by sheer momentum, your palms continue down his throat in a slow, sticky descent, until the pads of your thumbs slot into the hollow between his collarbones, your fingers resting at the base of his neck where you feel his pulse rabbiting underneath.

The air thickens and shifts between you. When he swallows, you feel the ripple of the moment against your fingertips.

His eyes are on you, and suddenly he’s too close, his skin too hot under your hands. To your horror, something akin to shyness rears its head and you almost stumble backwards to put a safe distance between you.

Scrubbing the oily residue from your hands on a towel, you break the moment with a wink and a steadier smile than you actually feel. ‘You look good, Morales. Ready to take a look?’

‘As if you would take no for an answer,’ he mumbles under his breath. Fondness might be too strong of a word - but you don't think you're imagining the faint trace of amusement in his voice.

With a dramatic ta-da, you spin his chair around with a flourish.

Frankie Morales is obviously not a vain man - he most likely owns five pairs of jeans that he’s worn on rotation for the past fifteen years, his t-shirts are washed ragged, and his trusty leather boots have seen better days. He probably doesn’t use a mirror other than for purely utilitarian purposes, like checking if there’s something stuck in his teeth from his last meal.

But right now, by the way he’s holding his breath as he meets his own eyes in the reflection, you can tell that he’s really looking at himself for the first time in a long while.

You pretend to busy yourself with tidying up the styling station as you discreetly sneak glances at him, feeling strangely bashful for intruding in this moment. When he remembers to breathe again, he tilts his head left then to the right, and back again, even swivelling his chair from side to side so he can peer round the back.

You’ve parted his waves to the side, the lighter cut allowing his curls to carry their natural shape. The healthy sheen, courtesy of the mousse, tempers his grays to a softer, burnt silver that catches the light fetchingly as he moves. Reaching up, Frankie pushes back a stray curl that falls over his eyes, and his back straightens in a quiet show of confidence.

Running a salon is hard work and often thankless. But on days like this? You know you’re meant to do this.

A dramatic gasp draws both of your attention. Ashton is clutching at his chest, backed up against the neighbouring styling station, gaping at Frankie. ‘Mister - you look good enough to devour. Look at that salt and pepper, I’m living for the grays. Doing the Lord’s work, Shiv!’

You laugh as Frankie flushes, scratching an invisible itch on his forehead. You brush the loose hairs off his shoulders with a towel and give him a nudge. ‘See? I’m not the only one who thinks you look good with the grays. You better stock up on the condoms, Morales, the ladies will be all over you at the party.’

He shakes his head self-deprecatingly as he stands up, rubbing his palms on his jeans, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. ‘I doubt it, but - thanks. I appreciate this, Shiv.’

He shrugs on his well-loved burnt yellow jacket, the one with the sleeves perpetually folded up above his wrists and grabs his cap. You hold out a paper bag with the free shampoo and conditioner you promised him, throwing in a jar of hair mousse for good measure. ‘You’re welcome, and you better not put your hat on again this afternoon after all that hard work.’

His fingers brush yours when he takes the bag from you, then, as if it’s the logical next thing to do, he leans down to press a chaste kiss to your right cheek, his stubble coarse against your skin - and you know without looking it’s the gray patch in his beard that brushes against your jaw as he draws back. You fumble, feeling heat prickle the back of your neck and blooming in your rib cage.

He flashes you the most self-assured smile you’ve seen on him this afternoon, which has you biting your bottom lip. ‘I won’t. Maybe see you at the wedding, Shiv.’

It takes you five full seconds to regain motor functions. By the time you unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth, Frankie’s already out of the door with a spring in his step.

In companionable silence, you and Ashton watch the pilot strut - because that’s what he’s doing, he’s strutting with a confidence that becomes him - across the road through the glass front of the salon.

‘What a dish,’ Ashton sighs dreamily, flopping into a chair as if his limbs have given out. ‘I hope he comes back soon.’

You smile. A girl could always hope.

Notes: It's the first time I'm using a nickname for a Reader, but I have a real soft spot for Shiv, and I think she deserves one. I'm not sure where the fandom stands on this, does it disqualify the fic as a reader insert? If anyone has an issue with this, please let me know! For me, Shiv has no physical descriptions so to me she's still a reader insert.

I don't know if anyone expected this kind of dynamics between these two, but it's been so much fun to write with a bit of antagonism in the mix. I hope you enjoyed this, reblogs and comments are so, so appreciated as always. Thank you for reading ❤️

#frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x fem!reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #francisco morales #triple frontier fanfic #frankie friday #queue

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kimbap-r0ll · 2 years ago

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OMG thank you for writing the horror movie like s/o and you chose the best characters for the scenario. If it doesn't bother you can you do the same scenario but with 5 characters who you'd think be more prone getting scared.

Hi, I’m glad you liked it! I actually like this s/o idea a lot, and I was wondering what it would be like for opposites to attract. Most of them like you as a person, but are concerned with you crawling around haha.

Riddle, Idia, Sebek, Ace, and Vil with a horror movie!s/o

Riddle

He’s so stiff and so easy to startle, it’s a wonder how you two ended up together without him offing your head yet

You met him when he was walking down the hallway and you fell on him while climbing out of a vent

He literally shrieks when you grab his legs from under tables, please don’t do this to him often it embarrasses him :’(

He loves you, and because of this doesn’t want you to hurt yourself when climbing out of towers, sewers, vents, etc. Will scold you if he sees you fall out of one.

Idia

You showed up in his room once, hair down and just standing in front of his large computer screen once. He fainted when he walked into his room and didn’t expect to see you there

He doesn’t care too much about the grabbing actually, but he gets unnerved super easily when you stare.

He might think you’re kind of cool though, you remind him of the horror video game bosses. You two might play a horror game together!

If anything, don’t use him as your target to scare, he might die of a heart attack :/

Sebek

He wouldn’t care that you stare or that you seem scary because he’s used to intimidation. But if you grab his leg, he will scream with a really high voice

It’s funny to Lilia and you, but not to the poor freshman

Like Riddle, he’ll be worried that you might hurt yourself, and often scold you for being careless about where you crawl

Don’t scare him too often, he might punch you in the face by accident and then be a flustered mess because he hurt you and he didn’t want to

Ace

He loves pranks until the target is him

You once decided to show up out of nowhere when he was alone in the library, already unnerved that it was late at night. You scared the living shit out him

He thought you were a ghost, and hugging you sobbed “DoN’t dO tHat AgAiN!!”

He has no problem pranking others with you however, but if you decide to scare him, know that he has the leg power to knock you out.

Vil

He’s also like Riddle in that he’s very proper. So he would be mortified by your behavior.

Not only are you terrifying, but you also crawl around in all those sordid locations around the school. Do you know how many germs vents can carry?!

He will not get scared easily I feel, but you can startle him. He’s more scared for your health (and your hair). He probably screamed once because you walked into his dorm room soaked in sewage.

If he catches you staring at him however, even with a scary look he will manage to make you flustered instead by smiling charmingly in your direction. “I caught you staring, didn’t I?”

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emitheduck · 2 years ago

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Date to the Winter Dance (Eddie Munson x Reader)

A/n: so this is my first eddie fic so be nice // also this concept worked better in my head lol

“So I had this crazy idea for a prank. How about, we find some losers at school, and pretend like we like them, and ask them to go to the dance with us, and then stand them up! I think it would be totally hilarious!” Laughed Tiffany, one of the cheerleaders seated at the lunch table.

“Don’t you think that’s a little cruel? They are actually people you know.” (Y/n) snapped at the girl next to her, watching her roll her eyes.

Tiffany groaned. “Come on! It’s funny! They’re such losers that they would fall for us instantly, and the look on their faces would be priceless when we don’t show.” She was getting ready to stand up, scanning over the cafeteria to find the perfect victim for her plan. “I think I’ll try the king freak Munson. Give myself a real challenge.”

(Y/n) stood up first, her hand slamming down on the table a little harder than she had anticipated. “You know what. I’ll do it.” She said, watching as all the other girls at the table started to gain interest. “I’ll let you know how it goes..” She told them before she started to walk over to the table where she knew she would find him.

And there he was, seated at the head of the table, clearly in the middle of discussing something before he stopped in his tracks, watching her with his large brown eyes as she cautiously approached him. “You’re Eddie, right?”

He looked almost the same as a deer in headlights, mostly just stunned that she was standing in front of him and not some kind of figment of his imagination. He only was able to blink when someone’s foot kicked him from under the table he was able to snap back to reality. “Y-Yeah, that’s me.”

“Listen, I know we have never spoken before in our lives, and that goes for all of you–” She said as she gestured to the rest of the boys at the table who were just as stunned as he was. “And I’m here to warn you.”

“Warn us? Is it something serious?” Asked the boy sitting to Eddie’s left. He looked up at her, almost vibrating as he seemed like he would jump out of his seat at any moment.

She rested a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him down. “Nothing super serious. However, some of the cheerleaders are coming up with a plan to ask you guys to the dance this week and then ditch you on the night of. And Tiffany over there, who you might know, was planning on asking Eddie.”

“You wanted to make sure no one made us look like idiots by going to our only social function of our lives?” Eddie asked, raising a brow as he looked over at the table that she had come from, watching the other girls sit and laugh while they tried not to stare.

(Y/n) nodded, sitting down next to the younger boy so she could get a better look at Eddie. “I swear, I would never want that to happen to you guys.”

Eddie, while still baffled, started to gain his confidence back. Leaning back in his chair, he crossed his arms while looking at her. “Are you sure you’re really a cheerleader? Because last I checked, they have never cared about anyone like us, whatsoever.”

“My little brother is going to be a freshman next year. He loves D&D, and I just couldn’t imagine if someone did this kind of shit to him.” She told him, glancing around the table at the boys who looked still too stunned to speak. “Listen, if you really do want to go to the dance, I would love to go with you, but if you don’t want to go, I’m not going to use my cheerleading charm to try and force you.”

“I’m sorry, did you just ask me to the winter formal?” Eddie asked her, now leaning forward on his elbows to look her in the eyes. “Why should I believe that you won’t ditch me like what your friends are planning?”

She rolled her eyes but mimicked his behavior, leaning forward like he had done. “I want to see the looks on their faces when I show up with you. Besides, maybe it will be fun?” (Y/n) shrugged before she stood up from the table. “But if you don’t want to go, maybe they’ll be someone from the basketball team or even someone at this table who would be happy to go with me.”

Once she had stood up, the younger boy sitting next to her had reached over and gave Eddie a slap on the arm, whispering something just low enough for her to be unable to hear. They fought for just a second before Eddie leaped from his chair to stop her before she could walk away. “Okay, I’ll go.”

“You can pick me up at seven before the dance, and if you want to hang out anytime before then just let me know.” She leaned down, grabbing one of the notebooks that was sitting on the table to write her information. “That’s my address and my number. I’ll see you then?”

Eddie nodded, tearing the paper out of the book to stuff into his pocket. As the bell rang, and before anyone could ask any questions, he gently grabbed (Y/n)’s arm to pull her to the side. “Are you really sure you want to do this? No one is forcing you, and I’d rather not get my ass kicked for talking to you.”

“I’ll give you a little bit of credit, you are pretty cute.” (Y/n) smiled, leaning up and gently pressing a kiss to his cheek, watching as he turned a light shade of pink. “Okay, I gotta get to class, I’ll see you later.” She giggled, watching as he stood there like a fool and watched her leave.

–

“So are you really doing this? You’re really taking (Y/n) (L/n) to the winter dance?” Dustin asked from where he sat on Eddie’s couch, watching as Eddie fussed over his hair in the mirror by the door. “What if she stands you up like she said the girls were planning to do?”

“I don’t really think she would. I mean, she told me I could see her whenever I wanted, and then she even gave me her number.” Eddie shrugged, looking down at his tie that was going to be slightly crooked no matter how many times he re-tied it. “I’m gonna go pick her up, you have the flower thing?”

“It’s called a Corsage, and yes I got it for you.” Dustin sighed as he reached into his backpack to pull out the plastic box with the flower in it. “Just don’t come crying to me when she stands you up.”

Eddie snatched the container from his younger friend with a glare. “If she does, then I’ll play it off. Make it seem like I don’t care or some shit like that.”

“Oh my God, you really do have a crush on her, don’t you?” Dustin was grinning, of course his smile growing when he saw Eddie try to brush him off. “You know, you have no chance with her, right?”

“Maybe I do, who the hell knows?” He snapped as he grabbed his keys. “I’m gonna go pick her up before she thinks I bailed on her, and you better not be here when I get back later.”

Eddie didn’t wait for an answer before he left, getting in his van and driving to the address that (Y/n) had given him a few days earlier. As he pulled up to the house, that’s when he truly started to panic. Should he have gotten her flowers? What if she really did ditch? What if this wasn’t even her house and he was about to be murdered by whoever opened the door?

All his thoughts vanished from existence when (Y/n) stepped out the front door, giving him a small wave before she walked over to his van. “Sorry, I watched you sit in the driveway for a minute and figured I should just come outside.”

“You’re wearing red.” Was all Eddie said as she climbed in the passengers side, shutting the door behind her. He was about to really beat himself up for that one. “Sorry, I just thought all the cheerleaders usually wear green to these kinds of things?”

“I figured I’d switch it up for a change?” (Y/n) shrugged, leaning over and gently holding his hand. “You don’t have to be nervous or anything, you can be honest with me. We can stay at the dance for as long as you want. Just tell me when you want to leave.”

Eddie gave her a small grin as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “You really don’t seem real to me Angel. I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to meet you.”

(Y/n) blushed at the nickname as they pulled into the school parking lot. “You ready for this? I don’t think I’ve even seen you at a school assembly, never mind a school dance.” She said as they got out of the van, Eddie quick to grab onto her hand.

“I’ll be okay, I mean, what’s the worst that can happen to me? I get verbally abused by everyone on every team sport in the school? That already happened to me before lunch.” Eddie joked, but (Y/n) could tell he wasn’t really joking. She’d seen it first hand, watching as the people of the school loved to tease the Hellfire club. “Hey, we’re gonna have a fun time tonight. We’ll dance, maybe talk to some of your friends if they come, and even drink punch till we puke.”

Eddie smiled as they walked into the gym. It looked almost similar to the middle school ‘snow ball’ and if he had to guess, they were the same decorations so the school board could save some money. “So tell me about yourself, I feel like I know nothing about you.”

“Well I’m on the cheerleading squad, thinking of quitting because I would rather put all my time in science club. I think Styx might be my favorite band of all time with Led Zeppelin coming in close second, and I think I could eat popcorn till I puke; that’s how much I love it.” She told him, watching as he froze, smirking at her words.

“You’re a 70s rock kinda girl. Never really expected that.” Eddie chuckled as she rolled her eyes.

“Let me guess, you expected me to say someone like Madonna? Don’t get me wrong, she’s pretty great but she’s not my cup of tea.” She told him while they found a spot along the wall of the gym to stand and relax; watch the rest of the dance.

Eddie was baffled, but tried his best to hide it as he didn’t want to seem too obvious that he was 100% falling for her now. “Sweetheart, I’m starting to think they made you up in a lab or something, because I don’t think there has ever been a single girl that I’ve met at this school that has first been nice to me, and second likes the same music as me.”

Before she could answer, a slower song started to play over the speakers, all the couples moving to the center of the dance floor to have a special moment. “Did you want to dance?” Eddie asked, leaning down to almost whisper in her ear.

(Y/n) felt a chill go down her back, but nodded as her face started to grow red. “Of course. Thought you’d never ask.”

He still held onto her hand tightly as they made it to the center of the dance floor. He slowly reached down to rest his hands on her waist, still afraid she would recoil back in disgust as he touched her. However, she reciprocated by gently resting her hands on his shoulders; the two swaying slightly to the music.

“Listen, (Y/n). You’re a really nice girl, and I’m me, but I was wondering if maybe at some point you would want to–”

“Oh my God, the freak really did come!” Eddie was cut short by the shrill voice of some cheerleader in the crowd that had formed around them, causing the pair to jump apart. “I really didn’t think she would follow through, but it looks like we got here just in time!”

Eddie sighed as he shook his head, trying his best not to look over at (Y/n). “Wow. You really played me. For a second, I really thought you weren’t like them.” He bit at his cheek, trying his best to hold back the tears that he could feel stinging at his eyes. Of course, it was some kind of joke. He always was the butt of other people's jokes.

“Well if he’s a freak, then I’m a freak too!” (Y/n) snapped, causing Eddie to pause before he could sprint out of the gym. Her hand quickly found his and held onto it tightly. “And you’re all just bitches!”

Someone could only yell that she was kicked off the squad as the two stormed out of the gym, stopping outside where others were standing and smoking, not paying them any mind. “Are you crazy? What the hell was that?”

“It’s called sticking up for someone. I’m sorry no one ever has for you before.” (Y/n) sighed as she pulled him in for a hug, her face buried in his chest as she started to cry.

“Angel, why are you crying?” Eddie as he gently rubbed her back, waiting for her to look up at him so he could wipe away her tears.

(Y/n) took in a deep breath before she spoke, trying her best to stop herself from crying. “You’re just so sweet, and they treat you like trash because you’re just different. That’s just so way to talk to someone–Ever.” She sighed as his thumbs gently wiped away her tears. “What were you trying to tell me in there?”

Eddie shook his head, trying to laugh it off. “It’s nothing, really. Nothing to be worried about.”

“You better tell me or else I’m gonna start crying again.” Was all she had to tell him for him to come clean.

“Fine! I was trying to ask you out! On a real date!” He snapped at her, instantly pulling away to hide his disappointment in case she said no.

She smiled as she nodded, grabbing him by the tie to pull him closer; giving him one soft (but slightly forceful) kiss before she pulled away. “I would love to.”

Eddie was grinning as he leaned down to kiss her once more, pulling away only when both of them started to laugh. “Lets go get some food or something? I feel like I want to get the hell out of here.”

“How about us two freaks go get milkshakes? Everyone likes milkshakes.” (Y/n) smiled as they walked back to van hand-in-hand. “Eddie?”

“Yeah Angel?”

“Can I kiss you again?”

“You never even have to ask.”

MASTERLIST

#eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #reader insert #reader #eddie stranger things

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