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jujutsubaby · 1 year ago

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🍒 only fans boyfriend!toji headcanons 🍒

☆ pairing: toji fushiguro x afab!reader ☆ summary: blurb in which toji is your bf who helps you take your photos and videos for your onlyfans ☆ warnings: 18+ !! MINORS DNI !! dirty talking, nudes, sex work, penetrative sex, idk what else lol ☆ a/n: i'm having some serious toji brain rot send help

bf!toji who first thinks of the idea of you doing an only fans after taking his millionth video of him pounding into you. he won’t lie, initially it was because he was tight on some cash and didn’t wanna borrow from you again, but he was convinced you could be some insane OF celebrity. “i’m not sure about it, toji. i don’t want randos to see my face…” you surmise. “c’mon, we’ll cover your face, doll, if that’s what you’re worried about. i swear, we could be raking in thousands from this.” the prospect of coming across a large amount of money like that was enticing…

bf!toji who suggests that you start out simple. “maybe just a shot of you wearing somethin’ cute for the camera, i dunno.” after work one day, you both go to a lingerie store and pick out a sheer pink babydoll slip on, with silky bows on the shoulders. at home, you fish out an old mid 2000s digital camera from the garage and present it to toji. “you’re gonna be my sexy photographer, right?” you tease, as you change into the babydoll slip dress.

bf!toji who totally sucks at taking photos at first, but is a quick learner as he learns all your best angles and poses. turns out when money is on the line, he’s a hard worker after all. pictures of you sluttily sticking out your tongue, and the dress straps falling off your shoulders send toji into a frenzy, and you both take a quick sex break before going back to taking the photos.

bf!toji doesn’t know how to edit photos for shit so you use the minimal photoshop you know to spruce up your makeshift boudoir shoot. not to toot your own horn, but you kinda ate those pics up, and toji can’t get enough of it. at work, he’s partially distracted, fighting off enemies with half a brain as the other half is trying not to get turned on (one time, he did get turned on while fighting and it was awkward to say the least. the guy’s dead now so toji doesn’t really care).

bf!toji who creates the OF account for you because you’re feeling too shy to do so. the interface is confusing for both of you at first, but you guys get the hang of it pretty easily. you post the boudoir photoshoot and immediately close the laptop because you’re terrified of it flopping. “the damage of no one subscribing to me, toji, i would die,” you say earnestly, feeling nauseous. “if no one subscribes to you, i’ll fuck the memory out of you, don’t worry,” he says nonchalantly as he picks a random show on netflix to watch. he’s not bothered by this even one bit and you think it’s because he doesn’t care but really, it’s because he’s that confident.

bf!toji who wakes up before you the next morning for work and quickly checks to see if your photos gained any traction. “holy shit, doll, wake up!” he practically pushes you off the bed as he shakes you and you groggily wake up, irked at the intrusion of your slumber. “toji, i swear to god i’ll kill y-” “you just got 300 subscribers overnight, shut up.” he says, cutting you off and meeting your lips with a tender kiss. you quickly pull back, eyes widening at the news.

bf!toji who reassures you that you’re only gonna blow up more, and that’s why you need to post more photos and videos. it starts off small: simple photoshoots and more slutty lingerie. you arch your back as toji gets an ass shot with your camera. he slaps it hard, leaving a red handprint mark and snaps a couple more photos.

bf!toji who encourages you to start doing videos after reaching over 1k subscribers. you do a little strip tease/dance while toji films, but the first time you do it, toji folds almost immediately and has you pinned under him. you try again the next day, and graduate to longer more explicit videos – fingering yourself, using toys, and live streaming. toji buys you a couple cute masquerade masks to use, too.

bf!toji who loves it when you get donations during streams. he ends up creating an amazon wishlist for you of things you guys could really use around the house. he can’t remember the last time he bought you lingerie anymore because your donations would usually cover that cost. that being said, he always chooses lingerie for you. he knows exactly what other horny guys are looking for on girls. “doll, i know crotchless panties are awful but i know the male gaze – they don’t give a fuck. look, okay, i’ll buy you that one piece too, don’t give me that look.” he says to you as you throw in a bunch of lingerie of your liking in the cart.

bf!toji who finally decides to join you in front of the camera, giving your fans what they wanted. the way he sees it, he fucks you senseless for free every night anyway, might as well get paid for it. toji makes a show to tear your nice lingerie off you and leaves visible marks in your skin from his touch as he pounds into you or bites your neck.

bf!toji who joins you on your livestreams, and they usually end with you bent over a desk, skirt hiked up, and his arousal deep inside you. “you guys think she deserves to cum?” he asks the chat, feeling you clench against him. he knows you're close, and it turns you on knowing it’s out of your control on whether or not you get to feel a release. your fans love your pornographic and lewd moans, but with toji fucking you, you don’t even have to act for them to come out of your mouth naturally. speaking of your mouth, toji especially loves when you have a masquerade mask on while he makes your little throat gag. you love it when he tests your gag reflex on camera in front of an audience, and everyone can tell when they see you soaked through your panties.

bf!toji who surprises you by taking you on a lavish vacation to bora bora when you reach over 10k subscribers. “we built this shit together,” he says, talking about your OF fame and money. you can’t remember the last time you guys worried about paying rent, and he wanted to do something special for his slutty little doll. he got one of those seaside huts surrounded by a private deck. your breath is taken away by the surprise, and toji wastes no time getting all your clothes off and getting you into the water. the makeout session turns into him fingering you underwater as he pushes your bikini to the side. after coming all over his fingers, you give him a handjob under the water, and toji has to quickly climb out of the pool so he doesn’t cum inside it and has to request a clean up on the very first day.

bf!toji who fucks you more times than you can count in the water, on the bed, in the infinity pool, that one time super discretely under the blanket in the beach. you bring up the idea of filming a little here and there on vacation. “what? the grind never stops,” you say jokingly as you set up the camera on the tripod in front of the bed. he surprises you by using some silk ribbons to tie your hands back while he licks and kisses every inch of your body, focusing especially on your sensitive nipples erect for the camera. he blindfolds you, hands still tied back while he eats you out. the electrifying sensations are amplified in the darkness of the blindfold, and you make an absolute mess on the sheets and his mouth.

bf!toji who uses the last night of your trip there to convince you to film one more video, this time on the private infinity pool outside your hut. you come out with a black strappy bikini with a sheer babydoll cover up. “don’t take off your clothes just yet, doll. just come in the water.” he commands, and you slowly get into the water. his silhouette looks ethereal in the golden hour of the sunset as you approach him. he cradles your jaw and kisses you deeply and passionately.

bf!toji pulls away from you and guides you to the edge of the pool that stares out to the pink sunset and the turquoise ocean. “what? gonna fuck me while looking at the sunset like a stupid romantic?” you jeer, poking his chest. he chuckles nervously. “eventually…”

bf!toji who pulls a small black box from behind him and opens it to reveal a big shiny diamond ring. tears start freely falling down your cheeks and you don’t even hear what toji is saying (you feel a little bad – he must’ve prepped this speech for a while but you were far too emotional to process anything). all you do is nod your head vigorously as he gently puts the ring on finger. a perfect fit. and it glistens just perfectly in the dimming sun.

fiance!toji who then fucks you into the sunset like a stupid romantic.

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snailsgoingdowntown · 3 months ago

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Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Lead’s Sister-in-Law!

‘Slight’ Yandere! Dion Agriche x Fem! Reader

Chapter 16

Story Masterlist

Arranged marriage AU

Interact with this linked post to be added to the tag list.

Entire chapter is Dion’s/Ash’s POV, takes place during the day of chapter 14 during the beginning scene of when Dion and Reader share a moment that is not nice in her mind. He is also out of character again lmao

Edit: LMAO I FUCKED UP THE TITLE OF MY OWN FIC. can you tell I wrote this entire thing in one setting while very tired? God now I need to check the other chapters lol

NOTE: Dion is having a very small crisis towards the end. Also, I do not know how to write fight scenes. I’m also getting kind of tired of saying ‘male’. Also two chapters within two days!? I'm on a roll baby! (I will proceed to not update for at least a week since life gets in the way/motivation/ideas won't come to me)

Warnings: slight yandere themes, themes of obsessive and possessive behavior/thoughts, toxic marriage/relationship, murder, blood, threats of injury/murder, slight torture (probably?), mention of divorce (it almost does not end well, rip Ash lol), Dion accidentally gets hurt (it’s his own fault), attempted murder, mention of past murder, implied murder (I think?), implied threats of injury, thoughts of imprisoning the reader at the end but he decides against it, implied stalking, HEAVY VIOLENCE Dion’s actions are toxic no matter how you look at it. Please tell me if I missed any.

NSFW-ISH WARNINGS: (NO SEXUAL ACTIVITY ACTUALLY TAKES PLACE) suggestive, implied vaginal pain (I think), throw back to their first time, implied perverted thoughts (Dion), Lant once again being a pos, encouraging Dion to force himself on the Reader, implied/mentioned past sexual activities, implied past Dub-con. Please tell me if I missed any.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE HARMFUL AND/OR DANGEROUS ACTIONS AND/OR BEHAVIORS THAT MAY TAKE PLACE IN THIS PIECE OF FICTION. THESE ACTIONS/BEHAVIORS SHOULD NOT BE NORMALIZED NOR ROMANIZED AS THEY ARE EXTREMELY DANGEROUS AND TOXIC.

MINORS/BLANK BLOGS, BLOGS THAT DO NOT INTERACT WITH OR REBLOG FANDOM RELATED THINGS (FICS, ART, ETC.) DNI

“How's married life?”

Boredom fills the voice of the redhead doctor as he dabs a cotton ball on the patient’s wound, crimson soaking into the fluffy white cotton. Once done treating it, he starts to wrap it up a little too tight, irritated that a certain Agriche got distracted, slipped down a slope full of sharp rocks and thus, sliced his arm open. So unlike him and yet, he still saw it coming from miles away.

God forbid if anyone in this hunting party listens.

“... why are you asking?” Dion questions back, narrowing his eyes, glaring daggers into the very doctor who’s treating his wounds. Still, it’s not like Ash would harm any of his patients, as he was well above that. Even with someone like him.

However, Dion Agriche often challenges his views and morals. He had always thought of the second eldest as a fool - however, ever since he got engaged to you, he became more so of one. While smart and talented in many areas - hunting, sword fighting, ballroom dancing, leading hunting parties for both monsters and animals alike, maybe a musical instrument or two if memory serves correct, and of course, assassinting - by the Gods, is his personality a nasty one.

“Am I not allowed to? After seeing the mess she was after your first night… I worry for her. Poor girl probably lost faith in God the moment she saw your face.” Ash bites back, tying the bandage up and securing it with pins before patting it down hard. He holds back a smile when THE Dion Agriche flinches at the pain.

It doesn’t matter if it was physical or emotional - pain is pain. Although, it would be better if it was both, finally hitting his employer where it hurts the most. But Dion always bites back.

“You’re rather mouthy for someone I could cut down easily.” Dion's threat is empty, but the urge to throttle the doctor remains. While he wouldn’t kill the man, putting him in a full body cast would settle some things.

Ash only sighs with a shake of his head. Gesturing your husband to put his shirt and black arm sleeves back on, the redhead starts to clean and put his medical supplies away. Currently, the two of them are alone in a tent that was hastily set up, the rest of the hunting party members outside eating dinner. The sun had barely set.

“Come now, I even tended to the poor girl as a free favor. Surely, answering a question or two isn’t that hard - consider it payment for that black eye I left with.”

“And I’ll leave another one on the other eye.”

“... why must you always be so violent? It’s clear that your wife isn’t fond of violence - much less you.” He hits where it hurts, patting the ‘poor’ man’s shoulder as he buttons up his uniform shirt. He watches with great interest when the black haired noble stiffens before resuming his task.

‘So, it’s not going all that great…’

“I mean, it’s only natural for me to ask, taking the fact you personally invited me to the wedding into account.” Ash continues to dig for answers, enjoying the way his scarlet hues become hollow and unfocused. Had he been a better man, the doctor would have pity the newly wed noble some more.

But Dion Agriche is nowhere close to even a decent person.

“It’s…,” his low and tired voice trails off before he stands and straightens his clothes out, “fine. Nothing for you to worry about.” A lie paired with another lie. How unlike him.

“Hm. Sure.”

Dion leaves the tent without another word, leaving the doctor behind.

As soon as he steps out, one of his men rushes over to him. Dion's mood only sours more, not wanting to interact with anyone just yet.

“Sir, we haven’t found any traces of the monsters. The entire area is empty.” The jet black haired noble can’t stop a brow from raising.

The brunette delivers the news in a hurry, out of breath. Your husband notices the way he tries to keep his voice down, eyeing everyone behind him. Weird.

Closer inspection revealed the dirt on his boots and leaves in his hair. But towards the chest, there’s a speck of red on the purple accents that’s barely hidden away by the cloak.

It’s even slightly damp. His sleeves look a bit too short as well. The gloves don’t look right, not fitting the fingers, slightly sliding off with each gesture of his hands. Scarlet eyes zone in on them before returning to the soldier’s face.

The hair looks a bit lighter. The eyes are a bit deeper.

“How far did you go?” Dion asks as he comes back down to earth.

“Oh!” The soldier straightens up before going on to tell him the details. Your husband listens with little interest, already looking at the area from where the soldier just came from. And then, he glances around the camp, eyes landing on each person once. Once he’s done with relaying the information, Dion walks past him.

The brunette follows. “Is something the matter, sir?” He follows until the chatter of the camp becomes distant. He runs into Dion’s sturdy back as the man comes to an abrupt stop. Gently rubbing his nose, the shorter man backs up.

“I must admit you have guts.” Dion’s voice is low, mockery laced in it despite ‘praising’ him.

“...huh?”

In a flash, his gloved hand slams the other man’s neck against a tree trunk. The bark bites into the exposed skin of his neck while his face turns red. Gasping for breath, the man makes a futile attempt to claw at Dion’s gloved hand.

His legs kick and kick, but it does little to help. Scarlet eyes stare at him emotionless, and the sight of the glowing orbs sends chills down his spine. “It’s amusing how you thought you could replace one of my men.” He chuckles low and deep, increasing the pressure on the poor man’s neck.

“But I have memorized each and every one of their traits - from their eye color to the way they even walk. Not to mention I didn’t order them to look for any monsters in the near vicinity.”

The black haired man considers snapping his neck right at this moment. But his actions are halted when he hears a twig snap under someone’s foot.

He scowls once the familiar voice reaches his ears. His eyes narrow at how annoying the new addition sounds.

“Is this really necessary? How about we find out what happened to the victim before killing the perpetrator,” Ash advises as he gets closer. He stops once he’s two feet away from the now angered man.

Close to being enraged but not yet, irked that one fool thought he was stupid while the other had just interrupted his actions.

“Dion.” Ash tries again. “Ask questions first. You can do whatever with him later, after we get answers.”

A hiss of annoyance and Dion drops the man. While he’s coughing for breath, with his boot Dion delivers a hard kick to the imposter’s stomach that has him wheezing for breath. Ash sighs in exasperation at the scene unfolding before him.

‘Once a brute, always a brute.’

“Talk. Maybe I’ll be merciful depending on your answers.”

“Arg! W-wait, fuck, wait!” He raises his hands as he surrounders. “I’m not the one who killed him - I was just given the uniform. Honest!”

The two standing men share a look.

“Regardless of who killed him, didn’t you at least consider that maybe everyone would notice you weren’t originally part of the party?” Ash squats to the enemy’s height, observing the hand mark that now decorates his neck. “Unless you’re an idiot.”

“I wa-wasn’t supposed to get too close to the others… just to lure you away.” He stares up at your husband the entire time while clutching at his stomach. Saliva drips from his mouth as he shakes. He looks more pathetic than a terrified dog.

“How far? I’m assuming just a bit further away from here.” The Agriche continues the integration. His head tilts when the idiotic imposter nods.

Ash looks up at him. “Should we call for reinforcements? It’s probably not a good idea for you to go alone.”

“I’m not alone. I have you.”

“...huh?”

- - -

Against his own will, Ash follows close behind the prisoner and warden. His arms are wrapped around himself as a cold breeze starts to pick up. His long red hair sways in the wind as Dion’s hood flops back due to the direction of the sudden wind.

“I’m not a fighter, you know this.”

“Right.”

“I’m a doctor - I help the wounded, I don’t give injuries. I don’t even have the training of a swordsman - unlike you.” Ash continues to complain, wanting nothing more than to kick your husband straight in the ass.

“Right.” Dion’s one word replies are dismissive - the doctor doubts he’s listening at all.

All the while the brunette is being dragged by the collar. He only listens in silence as the two assumed co-workers or something of that sort have a one sided argument or conversation. He can’t tell what it was.

“You have like what, thirty men?”

“Thirty five.” He takes a pause before correcting himself. “Well, now it’s thirty four.”

“Thirty four? And you choose me, a weak and mild doctor -”

“More like an annoying one,” Dion cuts in, starting to regret bringing Ash along. He forgot how… yappy he can be. Even with the amount of money he pays him, he always has something to complain about.

“... If your wife ever divorces you, I’ll help her in every way I -”

SNAP

Twigs break in half under your husband’s feet, the prisoner choking as the taller man turns on his feet so quickly it gives him whiplash. Ash immediately shuts his mouth as shadows start to cover the sharp features of Dion’s face. His eyes glow in the moonlight. His scarlet eyes are narrowed, filled with unsaid threats, glare so sharp it cuts into his very soul.

The redhead takes a step back as his employer towers over him. He breaks out into a cold sweat, the forest having become silent - like every animal in the vicinity sensed the bloodlust of this obsessed man and went into hiding.

It feels like death itself is breathing down his back, his stomach twisting and turning painfully. His mouth becomes dry, and he can hear every breath Dion takes. So, this is what it feels like, to be on the sharp side of Dion’s blade.

He gulps, Adam's apple bobbing. The air becomes suffocating.

“... it was a joke.” Ash says slowly, unable to look away from the grim reaper. A quick glance to his hands shows that they are both tightly clenched. The enemy is shivering in fear as well, worried for his own safety.

One wrong move and he’ll lose his head, it doesn’t matter if he wasn’t involved with the conversation. The fact he’s here at all spells out his doom.

This rage was different from the one that was directed towards him. He doesn’t know who the wife - you are, but at the mention of divorce, Dion became a different man. A worse man.

Did you mean that much to him? Or was it a pride thing?

“...A joke? I didn’t realize my marriage was a joke to you.” Husky and deep, your husband’s voice sends chills down the other two spines. Each step carries weight and the poor man dragged along regrets ever taking the job.

“No, I don’t think your marriage is a joke… I’m sure she’ll open up to you. Eventually. Just a bit.” Trying to soothe the pissed man proves to be futile.

Ash doesn’t understand why Dion was so smitten with you. You were strangers prior to the engagement - only shared a space in the ballroom without interacting with each other. However, one memory that will never be erased from his mind was when the then nineteen-year-old had pointed at you with his red eyes and declared to the doctor he would marry you during a ball that took place a year ago.

Right after you and the Agriche accidentally locked eyes.

Ash always knew he was mental. Just not to this degree.

“Listen, I’m sorry; I overstepped. Let’s just get this done - the faster we finish the faster you can return home. Maybe not into her arms, but at least you’ll see and hear her voice. Right?”

At the mention of that, the murderous man calms a little, but the looming threat of being cut down is still in the air. In the moonlight, your husband looks imposing, his red eyes glow as his short black hair moves along with the wind - all he’s missing is the scythe, standing tall and oh so close to putting his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Ash slowly lowers his hands when Dion sneers at him one last time and turns his back. Tension still in the air and in everyone’s body, they continue the walk. Each step is on the verge of being heavy, but caution prevents them from dragging their feet. The captive was soon thrown over Dion’s shoulder, the sound of dragging getting on his nerves while Ash brought up the amount of noise it made.

The captive and Ash stare at each other in silence. He almost feels bad for the man, but the doctor quickly reminds himself that he was his employer’s enemy - if he pities him he might cave in and help. But helping would mean that Dion would cut his pay, assuming he doesn’t put him six feet under.

Or both.

“... we’ve been walking for a bit now. Maybe you should turn around to let the man get a view. We might have taken a wrong turn.” The doctor suggests as Dion hums, considering it. He halts and drops the man who lands face first on the ground. Dirt gets in his eyes, groaning in pain as he rubs it out.

“If you try to run I’ll cut your legs off.”

“And this is why you don’t have any friends.”

The captive listens in confusion, baffled that there’s someone who can shit talk the infamous Dion Agriche and live. A pause and he stands to his full height, a head shorter than your husband. Dusting himself off, he quivers under Dion’s sharp gaze. His voice cracks as he looks around before giving them directions.

Or at least, attempts to.

Swoosh

Thud!

“Wha!?” Ash backs away as an arrow impales the imposter’s head. He falls to the ground immediately, eyes becoming lifeless. Blood pools underneath his head as some drips down his face. Dion whips his head to the right, where the arrow came from.

Swoosh

Before it can hit him, Dion catches the arrow with his hand after rushing in to save Ash. He snaps it in two easily. The forest becomes quiet. Both men look to the right, but sense nothing.

The Agriche feels a hit to his pride once he realizes that he had just lost his prey. His scowl deepens, and Ash squats to investigate the dead body that lays on the cold ground.

Gently, he lifts the head, getting a good look at the fatal wound. Upon closer inspection, the head of the arrow was dipped in a purple liquid - most likely poison. He glances at the man standing behind him, but quickly returns his attention to the corpse.

‘Not that it matters if he got hit… he’s immune to most if not all poisons. Oh, but what if he’s not immune to this one?’

The doctor mentally questions as he looks over his shoulder again. Only to be met with the sight of Dion licking the arrow head, tasting the possible poisonous liquid without a second thought. Ash blinks blankly.

‘Are all Agriches like this?’

“It’s poison -” the black haired man starts before he gets interrupted, holding the urge to throttle his employee back. It’s so tempting.

“Obviously -”

“- that’s made from Mellow light*” He finishes while he glowers at Ash. “How unfortunate. Had I known it was drenched in it I would have let it hit you.” A crooked smile plays on his lips as the redhead furrows his brows at the younger man's ‘teasing’.

“Ha ha. That’s enough from you - what do you want to do with the body?” He looks at the corpse next to him. “Should we burn it? Or bury it?”

“We’ll bring it with us.” Answer your husband. Without another word, he grabs the corpse by the collar of the shirt and drags it alongside him. “It’d be interesting to see their reactions.”

Ash stays quiet.

- - -

“Where’s the doctor and the young master?”

“I saw them heading that way…”

“Were we abandoned?”

“Do you honestly think they would do that? Master Lant would have a field day if the young master just up and left. Even if he’s the favorite, he wouldn’t be able to get away with doing such a thing.”

Chatter fills the air as the soldiers scratch their heads. Stars twinkle in the night sky, and yet despite the pretty sight, only tension is present. Everyone is tense as some look around them to make sure nothing or no-one surrounds them.

“Actually,” one young man starts after he looks around, “where’s Adam? I haven’t seen him since we got back.”

“Maybe the young master disposed of him.” One says casually.

“Or he was eaten by a monster and that’s why the other two left - to investigate. It’s normal for them not to say anything sometimes.” Another man offers up, scratching his head despite the implication that their fellow soldier is dead somewhere.

It’s a normal occurrence they’re used to seeing rather than experiencing - it was only a matter of time until someone from their group would die in action or get disposed of by one of the Masters.

Despite their unease, they stay at the camp, weapons ready and alert about their surroundings. The night was still young and the person in charge was missing.

- - -

They stopped at an abandoned cabin. However, like the fools they are, chatter is loud enough to be heard from outside, and a lantern was lit inside, showing the silhouettes of people through the windows. Two people stood guard outside, Dion and Ash hiding near the trees.

“Talk about being obvious,” Ash mumbles under his breath, staring at the sight with furrowed brows. Wasn’t this a little too easy? Out in the open, did they think that the night alone would conceal their presence?

Or maybe this was a trap. Making it look too easy so attackers would act cocky or something along those lines. Acting without thinking. Makes it easy to -

“This is dull.” Dion walks out into the open, clearly having no intention of staying hidden. Unlike the swordsman, the doctor says in hiding. He sighs, shaking his head as he quietly prays for the poor souls. Three strikes of his sword and both are on the ground, dead. One with a slash to his neck and the other was pierced with Dion’s sword to his head. Their bodies fall to the ground with a ‘thud’.

Then, he kicks the door in without warning, caution thrown into the wind, the corrupted noble acting out of character. Slowly, the doctor follows after, watching from the doorway as your husband swings his sword to slash someone’s eyes, making them blind. The Agriche jumps back when one of the men thrusts their sword with all his might towards your husband’s chest.

He deflects it easily.

From the doorway, Ash witnesses as the younger male swipes his opponent from his feet, his booth making contact with their own, causing the enemy to trip over. Dion wastes no time in bringing his sword down, blood splattering on his boots and floor, the hem of his cloak also now stained as he kills him. There is no remorse in his red eyes.

The doctor shivers.

Two capable men remain. They look at the brooding figure like he was a beast - and perhaps he was, the man emotionless when it comes to his victims. Shaking in their boots, their hold on their sword’s hilts loosen. Their eyes are so wide it’s cometical.

“Remember to leave one alive,” Ash shouts from the doorway. Dion doesn’t spare him a glance as he rushes forward, and another man is killed. Blood is shed and none of it is from him.

The man who was blind by the Agriche writhes on the floor, palms pressed against the wound as he tries to soothe it. He’s also sobbing, and for a moment, the sound reminds your husband of you.

He’s quickly ripped out of his thoughts as his opponent dashes towards him, lifting his sword and is about to bring it down before Dion just… stabs him in the chest. The sword falls to the floor with a clatter as the man cripples over in pain. Slowly, life fades from his eyes, your husband taking it upon himself to end his life faster.

The sight is reflected in scarlet eyes and their owner feels nothing. He’s all but a canvas painted a bright red, no more room for anything else to be added, black fading at the corners.

The wails of the now blind man reach his ears. He turns on his feet, realizing he should have let one of the enemies who could still see live. A blind man can only help so much with directions.

Dion takes a quick glance around the one room cabinet only to realize one thing - there are no arrows. Whoever the archer was, they were not here. His eye twitches but he calms himself as he looks at the injured man on the floor, blood dripping from his eyes onto the wooden floor.

His steps are heavy, the floorboards creaking under his weight. Ash reaches the new victim before Dion does. He only stares, standing above him as the doctor checks out the gash.

“F-fuck! You - you -” The nameless man stutters out before he stops to sob, the pain unbearable. Ash doesn’t blame him.

“He’ll kill you if you keep talking without permission.” A half-lie, the doctor giving your husband a look. “Just keep your mouth shut until spoken to.” Reaching into his coat's inner pocket, he brings out a small bottle full of some type of medicine.

Dion scoffs as the doctor rinses out the wound, dusting himself off as the wails get stronger. Louder. What was the point of performing first aid? It’s not like he’ll live for long.

Without heistance, Dion kicks the man in the stomach once Ash is done ‘treating’ him. He’s getting impatient - their idiotic and poor attempt to kill him, to trick him was only making the length of his mission longer. He could be with you right now. Watching as your chest slowly rises up and down as you sleep, as his insomnia prevents him from joining you.

He could be in your shared bed by now, the only time you don’t squirm under his gaze. When he can trace the contours of your face with his eyes, wishing that he could do it with his fingers instead.

He directs his attention back to the matter at hand. Thinking about you only distracts him.

“Talk. The longer you lie or stay quiet, the longer I’ll beat you.” Not a complete lie. He swears he’s trying to be a bit less brutal. For you.

But it’s hard when it was hardwired into his very being at a young age.

“I-I don’t -”

THWACK

Another kick to the stomach that has the man wheezing. Drool flies from his mouth as he doubles over in pain. His entire body feels wrecked, his eyes fucked for the rest of his life, no matter how short. Breathing hurts but his lungs won’t stop seeking for oxygen. The burning sensation almost makes him wish he was dead.

“Ugh… I-I was ju-just ordered to be stationed here��” He braces himself for another kick that never comes. However, he doesn’t delude himself into thinking that the threat before him has decided to let him rest. He knows that Dion is planning something else.

And he’s scared to find out what.

“So you’re mercenaries. Who hired you?” The interrogation continues.

“I-I didn’t see his fa-face… he wore a ma-mask. Dark blue. A-a bit shorter th-than you." The mercenary gives details as he prays that his death will be a swift one. He knows he’s not leaving alive.

- - -

The matter was out of their hands now. He has to report everything to Lant, and wait for further instructions. It’s a routine he hates.

He’s treated no better than a show dog.

“At least you’re almost done with the original task.” The doctor tries to be positive.

Dion doesn’t answer as he brings the blind mercenary with him. Unlike with the first one, he carries this one over his shoulder the entire trip back to camp. It’s quicker and easier, while dragging him would slow him down a bit.

It doesn’t make him dislike it any less.

“Surprised you kept him alive.” The doctor stares at the unconscious man as he walks behind Dion. “What about the rest of the bodies?”

“We leave them as a message,” is all your husband says. What a crude thing to do, Ash thinks. But he doesn’t comment on it further.

By the time they reach camp, the soldiers look on in shock as their leader returns covered in splatters of blood with a man on death’s door slung over his shoulder.

- - -

“...you want me to do what?”

“Take the money and buy the necklace I told you about earlier. I’ll either be kicked out or they’ll run away immediately as soon as they see me.” He gestures to his messy appearance.

“Just take off your cloak! Wash your face! Besides, what will your wife think if she ever finds out I was the one who got it!? She’ll think that you’re lazy and it’ll only make her view of you worse!”

The hunting party is on the outskirts of a town they passed by on their way to the hunting grounds. Dion stares at Ash with money in his hand, silently ordering him to take it and buy a necklace that matches your pretty and lovely eyes.

Dion had passed through the town himself a few weeks ago while out on a different mission. Curious, he decided to check out the local jewelry store. He was only supposed to take a peek, not leave with plans to buy a certain piece. The only reason he didn’t get it right then and there was because he forgot his wallet.

He still holds that against himself to this day. While it’s true he could have used his status as being part of the Black Clan, it didn’t sit right with him. How soft has he become?

It’s all your fault. And yet, he doesn’t hold it against you. It’s impossible to do so.

“... I suppose you’re right.”

“Then go get it yourself!”

The blind and unconscious mercenary is forgotten on the carriage that also holds some monster parts.

The soldiers in the background try their best to ignore their conversation. But it’s hard when the doctor’s frustration is bursting through the streams, clearly done with their leader. While it was common knowledge among this group of how the two butt heads, it’s a secret outside of it.

For a mere common doctor to go against a child of Agriche, it would be a death sentence. Especially with his occasional condescending remark or tone that would bring punishment or even death for anyone else. However, for whatever reason, Ash Katopodis was the only one who ever lived without injury after shit talking Dion Agriche. The first time it happened, they waited with baited breath for the doctor to fall to the ground, dead.

The second time it happened they thought it was fluke.

Everything after that showed that he had a privilege that no-one else ever will have. It’s curious how he’s the only one.

One time, a soldier, a stupid one, who overheard Dion’s men talk about it did try to snitch on them to Lant, hoping to bring down Dion’s reputation. Safe to say his death wasn’t quick and painless. After that, they all realized that the only reason Dion kept them around was because they knew when and how to keep their mouths shut.

Still, it was entertaining for a man below Dion in status to lose his temper with the crimson eyed noble.

Even if they can’t hear every word.

“Take off the cloak - oh. Right. The Agriche crest.” The sudden memory of what’s engraved into that uniform hits Ash hard. How stupid of him to barely remember.

“You there! Come over for a second.” Not waiting for Dion’s response, Ash calls over one of the soldiers. He walks over in confusion, slightly irked that a doctor dared to order him around. But due to his leader being there, he keeps his mouth shut.

“Y-yes?” The man looks at both of them with uncertainty in his eyes. Worried, he keeps himself from turning around to avoid your husband’s eyes.

“Can you lend him your cloak? Just for a bit.”

Dion glares daggers at Ash.

- - -

“We-welcome! How may I help you to-today?” Open twenty-four-seven, Ash watches as Dion had knocked on the door of the store, deciding to stay in his stained clothes and dirty boots while staying outside, not staining the store’s floor. How benevolent of him.

The owner, who was originally confused and slightly annoyed, quickly changed tune once he saw the two men. Since he had met Dion before, he knew who he was. Which meant his automatic fear and willingness to work with him and not send him off only made sense.

“The necklace,” Dion starts while recalling how it looks, “the simple gold one with a small (e/c) jewel in the middle - how much?” He knows it’s genuine after the first time he examined it. What he forgot was the price.

This isn’t like him. None of this is. But the second you entered his life, he’s been… different.

The owner blinks before answering. “Oh, that one? It’s 1240 - but for you, I’ll only charge half.” Business is still business to this man, clearly. Still, seeing how it’s an Agriche who’s his customer, he doesn’t want to test his luck too much.

It’s also amazing how he memorized the price of each and every one of his goods.

“Alright.” Dion doesn’t try to negotiate to lower the price further. Ash watches in amazement as the exchange comes to an end as the gift is placed in a small elegant blue box that’s carefully placed into his pants pocket.

- - -

Ash left the party before reaching the Agriche estate.

Everyone else goes their own ways once everything is reported to Lant, the head of the family scowling at the news. Perhaps too tired to care much, considering the time, he dismisses everyone without incident. Everyone but Dion, that is.

“The girl didn’t leave your room today. Were you too rough before departing?” His father takes a puff from his cigar as he questions his son on a matter that frankly, doesn’t concern him. His ugly smirk only makes the context worse.

“... she’s still getting used to ‘it’.” A simple lie that has his father chuckling. It’s nails on a chalkboard, making his ears bleed.

“Interesting. I never thought you would be that type.” One more puff after a suggestive line. “Well, it’s late - you should get some rest. Or don’t, depending on your mood. It’s not like she can deny you.”

His hands form fists before they relax. Getting mad here wouldn’t help. Even though every fiber of his being is enraged that Lant is treating you like a sex toy - then again, in his eyes, you probably are. A nice little breeding tool given to him, his son.

He ignores the urge to give in and punch him.

He wonders how long he’s had these violent feelings towards him.

“Yes, father.” And with that, he leaves.

The walk to your bedroom feels longer than what it is. Too long. Even so, he doesn’t rush, knowing that you prefer it when he’s gone. A part of him does feel guilty about it, really. At times, he does consider separating himself from you physically - as long as you’re married, as long as you don’t look at anyone else, as long as you belong to him, it should have been fine.

And, truthfully, it was, at first. He was content with the knowledge that you were his wife and he was your husband. Looking from afar would sate his needs, small dinners here and there would have been better than fine. Just hearing your voice would improve his mood, and sharing a bed with you was nicer than nice.

That day when you were sitting on the floor and fell backwards, head resting on his legs, he couldn’t help but admire your beauty.

Although, looking back on it now, you probably took it differently.

The night where you allowed him to touch you, his fingers on the bare skin of your back, how loose you were with him, his resolve started to crumble. He shouldn’t have done that. He shouldn’t have acted in a suggestive way, either the position sending his mind places that you clearly didn’t appreciate nor agreed with. He should have gotten up the moment he was done with untying the strings and not imply he wanted to make you cum with both his words and actions.

His behavior that night only served to drive you away further.

You both had your first time together, which was amazing - but he does regret how it went. He should have been softer, kissed you, whispered praises in your ear as he slowly, inch by inch, entered you, said you were beautiful because you were, because you are.

But, shamefully, he was caught up in his head. Too eager to take you, to become one, his actions only worsen your impression of him. He should have been better. Instead of trying to hold himself back which only made him look disinterested, made him look selfish with sexual pleasure, he should have given in a little bit, at least with making you cum and sweet words he should have said instead of calling you cute only when you started to cry.

Maybe then, you would be more welcoming to fleeting touches and even accept a kiss to the forehead or at the very least, hold his hand. But now you only see him as a perverted creep, and no matter how hard he tries, everything only backfires on him.

He has no-one to blame but himself.

He pauses once he reaches the bedroom doors. It’s only now does he realize he didn’t wash up - still dirty and covered in specks of blood. Dirt in his hair, he wonders if he stinks or just smells like the outside. Or maybe that would smell bad to you too.

His eyes glaze overs at the thought of you shooing him away - can’t he just spend a few minutes with you? Maybe he should just… lock you up. That way, you wouldn’t be able to avoid him. You wouldn’t be able to give your attention to anyone else, if he just hid and locked you away all for himself.

A pause before he sighs through his nose. Not a good idea despite how tempting it is.

His thoughts are interrupted when his hand starts to turn the door knob without his knowing. He caves.

He’ll just take a peek. To see if you’re asleep or not. He’ll leave to wash up as soon as he sees you before going in.

Only he caves in once he sees you on the terrace, in nothing but your sleep attire. A frown pulls at his lips - it’s slightly windy - he knows this is only an excuse to get closer to you, but an obsessed man can only hold back for so long. In the beginning, he was satisfied with just being married to you. But your personality, your real one that shined through in the past, was addicting. Your skin was so warm and hair soft, and the way you had clung to him during your first night would have eventually caught up with him, wanting to hold you in his arms again.

It didn’t have to be in a sexual manner. Your genuine sweetness was never meant for him and he knows this. But, at times, it does hurt a bit that you just don’t remember past events, no matter how small.

Quietly, by reflex, he enters the room and opens the closet to pull out a coat. The first one he sees is a gift from his mother.

Despite his distaste of it, he pulls it out regardless and walks to you. You smell nice, he thinks as he gets close enough to place the coat over your shoulders. He sees the way you tense but he still can’t stop himself from saying -

“You’re still awake.”

= = =

EDIT: *- it's a plant I made up. That's all.

tag list: @tiny-mimi @umi-adxhira @pix-stuff @queenofspades403

@manitscold @s-ajia @disappointment-san @rentaldarling @darkumbreon92 @puggyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

#yandere #dion agriche x reader #dion agriche #Yandere dion agriche #yandere dion agriche x reader #twtptflob x reader #twtptflob #the way to protect the female lead's older brother #yandere twtptflob #yandere the way to protect the female leads older brother #roxana #deon agrece #deon agrece x reader #deon agriche x reader #male yandere #yandere x reader

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slvtforfiction · 2 months ago

Text

Chapter 1 || Skiing trip

☆ This is the 1st chapter to a series!!

☆ WillNE x Reader

☆ Yayayaaya,my first fic on tumblr

☆ Backstory here

☆ TW// Drug use

Wattpad

Series Masterlist

Masterlist || Pinned Post

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Incoming call ; Freezy

Missed call ; Freezy

Incoming call ; Freezy

I sighed as I picked up my phone,realising it must be important if you must call me twice though this could very equally be something stupid that won’t affect my day what so ever.

“Hey Cal,what’s up?” I said as I picked up the phone,leaning it between my ear and my shoulder as I continued to paint my nails.

“Hey so we’re going to New York for a skiing trip,we were gonna film it for a video but Chip dropped out because he’s ill,do you wanna come?” He quickly explained and I processed the information slowly.

“Uh yeah sure.” I said as I continued painting my nails, “I’m glad you sound enthusiastic.” He replied sarcastically and I giggled, “My bad,oh my god! Yes Freezy! I would love to!” I giggled sarcastically down the phone.

“Alright alright,I’ll send over the details and meet you at the airport tomorrow?” He said and I furrowed my brows, “Tomorrow? Fuck! Uh okay.” I said as my mind began racing thinking about where my ski clothes are along with my suitcases and kit.

“Alright I’ll send the details,see you tomorrow.” Cal said and I nodded “Yeah cool.” I said as I now desperately and silently begged my nails to dry as fast as possible because I had some insanely fast packing to begin.

I think u got a room w / WillNE ifyk who that is,the flight is at 5 tomorrow morning,meet us at Gatwick at 4:30 and we’ll meet there,see u soon x

That’s all good,see u soon! x

I smiled as I typed out my reply though stressed out and worried about how im going to pack so quickly.

I found the suitcase with my skiing gear in it,pushing it to the side as I began pushing clothes and recording equipment into my bag,running around my apartment as I gathered everything I even thought I would remotely need.

Grabbing a red bull out of the fridge I walked back upstairs,deciding sleeping wasn’t an option and having a pint with the guys at 4am sounded fitting.

I shoved my makeup bag into the suitcase,zipping it up and throwing it with my skiing gear suitcase,lying down on my bed as I stared at the ceiling,sighing.

I had my suitcases packed,rather quickly if I say so myself,even if it was because I shoved everything in without rhyme or reason.

I turned to my side,grabbing the tray off my window sill,folding the paper as the green dust fell into the paper,rubbing against the roach.

I licked the paper,sealing it as the lighter hit the end of the blunt,taking a sharp inhale as I placed my tray upon my window sill again.

I lied against my pillows as I blew out the thick white smoke,coughing lightly as the plume of smoke filled my room.

I rolled into my side,holding my phone infront of my face from a good enough distance,scrolling through my TikTok feed calmly as I inhaled and exhaled clouds of smoke.

As the high hit my vision blurred slightly and I settled into bed,pulling my cover on top of me.

Hey,supposed to be sharing a room with you?

Hey! My name’s Y/n

Nice to meet u

Nice to meet u 2 x

I smiled as he messaged me,finishing the conversation too early but little did he know it wasn’t the first time I had heard of him,I knew who he was through some of our mutual friends and after a few hours of stalking his YouTube I came to the conclusion that he’s fit. Like,fit fit. And after a few more hours of stalking edit accounts I could’ve been bordering parasocial.

Laying in my high state I snuggled into the covers and flicked onto YouTube,prepared to do more “research” a.k.a giving me a reason to watch his videos.

I flicked into the first video I saw,propped my phone up on the bed and cuddled up to my pillow as I prepared to stay up till 4am,convinced I would never wake up if I fell asleep tonight.

The trip to the airport was the least memorable part and I wasn’t looking forward to it,an hours journey all by myself sounds brilliant. absolutely shite.

#spotify #smut #song #romance #cute #fluff #will lenney #willne x reader #WillNE #james marriott #youtubers #youtube #uk #sidemen

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indigovigilance · 1 year ago

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Bullet Theory

Thesis: Crowley passed Aziraphale a bullet during the Final Fifteen kiss. This bullet contains his memories. He tucked it under his tongue, then began to access the memories during the ride up the elevator.

Edit: debunked by God himself, in response to this post. As a reminder, please don’t send fan theories to NG.

Proof:

Glint in the mouth

Inspo credit to this post by @somehow-a-human

Yeah so we were already paying way too much attention to that very special four-letter word we thought Aziraphale was going to say, but it so happens that during that cut-off phoneme is the only time you can see this shiny object in his mouth. (catching this on the right frame was emotionally painful and I’m sending Gavin Finney my therapy bills (actually no I’m not I love you very much sir)).

So that’s the basis of this theory. Crowley passed Aziraphale a bullet that he then tucks under his tongue.

Add’l Evidence Post-Kiss

Aziraphale works his jaw after raising his fingers to his lips: [gif]

Then when the Metatron comes in, he turns his back on the Metatron and raises his hand. I originally thought he was wiping his eyes. Now I think he’s raising his hand to his mouth, maybe to spit out the bullet, maybe to make sure it’s secured under his tongue.

Credits Scene

Aziraphale has the craziest fucking look on his face through the credits, we can all agree. But towards the end, his eyes flicker back and forth, as if he is watching or reading something. Then he smiles. I hypothesize that he is still accessing his memories during this time, and getting the information he needs to [redacted].

Thematic Justification: The Bullet Catch

Aziraphale having a bullet in his mouth as part of a two-man act of deception is not a fresh concept by the time we get to The Final Fifteen.

Additionally, the use of surreptitious modes of communication, where messages are passed from person to person inaudabily, is introduced in this same magic trick.

NB1: I wish I could credit the person who I first saw point this out (relatively recently). It wasn’t even tagged as meta, I don’t think. But the gist was there’s some parallelism between “aim for my mouth but shoot past my ear” and the “pin the lips on the lips” move that Crowley pulls in the Final Fifteen. If I find it I will properly cite.

NB2: One hypothesis that has circulated around, I think creditable to @sendarya, is that Aziraphale mouths “trust me” to Crowley just before he gets on the elevator. This isn’t necessary to the Bullet Theory but it would be thematically consistent.

Small objects carry memories

Why a bullet? Well, it’s a small object that has meaningful significance between the pair of people involved, much like:

Beelzebub introduces us to the idea that a small object like a fly can be used as a storage container for memories. We also see that the object entering the body of the person is a viable way for the memories to be delivered.

(btw Jon Hamm if you’re reading this, you have very pretty eyes)

“I keep a derringer in a hollowed out book”

K, so it’s not like Crowley is just carrying a bullet loaded with Aziraphale’s memories around with him at all times, is it? (I mean, it could be, but probably not. I’ll just point you to this meta for my theories on why, if Crowley had anything that needed to be kept safe, he would keep it in the bookshop.)

We learn in S2E4 that Aziraphale keeps a gun in a hollowed out book somewhere in the shop. A gun wouldn’t be any good without bullets, right? This may not be the reason the derringer was left as a Chekhov’s Gun for S3, but it’s a possibility. If Crowley wasn’t already in possession of a bullet, he knew that he could find one in the shop. Even more likely, the exact bullet used in the 1941 magic trick is a precious keepsake being kept somewhere in the bookshop, and Crowley chose to use that exact bullet because of the memories already directly attached to the object.

Why Aziraphale even has memories to be returned to him

We know that Aziraphale could have had his mind wiped because Heaven has done it before. Certainly once. Probably twice. We know this because when Metatron is announcing that Gabriel, alongside having his memories erased, is being demoted to 38th class, Muriel pipes up and reminds us that they are 37th class:

So this wasn’t a “just Gabriel” thing. Mind-wiping is a routine form of personnel management in Heaven. There is NO reason for us to believe that it didn’t happen to Aziraphale. But in case you need a reason to believe it, here goes:

We know from our interactions with Jim that the person whose memories are missing (1) doesn’t necessarily know and (2) isn’t necessarily distressed by that fact, even if they do. Muriel also fits this “cheerful empty shell” archetype. You know who else does? Ding ding ding. The one and only A. Z. “wiggles with delight” Fell.

I can already hear your very valid counter-argument. This guy is actually terrified out of his mind on any given day that his romance with a demon will be discovered. Yes. Because he’s involved in a romance with a demon. The other two angels we’ve met don’t have this issue. Beyond that, though, these three characters share more in common with each other disposition-wise than any of them do with the other angels we’ve met (Uriel, Michael, Sandolphon, etc.).

We also know that Aziraphale has been [demoted] at some point from Cherub to Principality. This is book canon:

"Technically Aziraphale was a Principality, but people made jokes about that these days."

This has also been confirmed (insofar as Neil Gaiman ever confirms anything) by Word of God:

(marketing video screengrab clipped for brevity)

We don’t know for sure it was a demotion, but I think we have enough evidence to infer that with a high degree of confidence.

Anyways.

Summary: Aziraphale is a cheerful angel who was demoted and has a name that is not biblical canon. This evidence indicates that was probably mind-wiped. This is not the first time I’m proposing this. It won’t be the last.

How Crowley Did It

My meta on Continuity Errors gives the complete proof for why I believe that Crowley is able to stop time without Aziraphale knowing, and I propose in that meta that the kiss was a cover-up for the exertion of effort necessary to pull that off. I further proposed that during the pause, he retrieved something from the bookshop. At the time of writing, I didn’t know what. Now, I have an inkling that it was a bullet.

If you need a refresher on Clock Theory, here’s one. The idea is that the clock behind Aziraphale shifts by fifteen minutes from before the kiss to after the kiss. This is consistent with a theory that Crowley paused time (but the clock kept running) in order to retrieve the bullet, dump Aziraphale’s memories into it if he hadn’t already, and then return to transfer the bullet to Aziraphale.

Why Crowley Kept the Secret So Long

As with Continuity Errors, I am ending this meta with a very unsatisfactory “I don’t know.” The motivation for Crowley to keep Aziraphale’s memories from him until the very moment he’s about to leave must have been a strong one. I think it has something to do with why Crowley was so insistent on trying to get Aziraphale to run away with him, instead of dealing with whatever’s coming. But as with Continuity Errors, I suspect that the good omens meta hivemind (and the vast collection of people who are posting clues, you have no idea how important you are) will assemble yet more breadcrumbs that we can follow to some sort of hypothesis.

Until then,

(here's my meta index if you would like to read more stuff like this)

#good omens meta #bullet theory #the final fifteen #crowley #aziraphale #good omens gabriel #good omens muriel #good omens #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #good omens theory #good omens speculation #good omens analysis #good omens clues

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kremlin · 9 months ago

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after many years my old company has finally allowed people back into the office, haha, not to go to work, no no, solely to collect their belongings from their desks. i picked up my stuff and remembered what a psycho i was about my office back then, let me show you..

i set up an old VT-420 on a side of my desk to read my email on (to flex my computer dick) which is unfortunately a bit too yellowed now for me to post exposed but hilariously enough i did take the chance to fix the faulty RS-232 chip in it and i no longer get a bunch of keystrokes interpreted as ŸŸŸŸs randomly. the fix was great too, instead of having to throw the whole thing out like you'd need to today, i literally just had to pull the PTH chip out of its socket, didn't even need to desolder. nor throw the old one out. i blasted it with a blowtorch for about half a second and it's fine now.

youtube

(it is amber by the way, which is the best color)

the keyboard is another story, i think a lot of like, entry-level vintage computing people get this concept that every old keyboard is some treasure, and boy let me tell you, some of them make you want throw up, like the vt420's:

you'll have to take my word that the typing experience is pure ass, but if you look at this fucker for more than two seconds your blood pressure will start to raise. and i'm not just talking about the euro return key. where is the super key? and what is going on left of 'a'? did they decide to solve the age-old "caps lock vs ctrl" debate by putting both of them there (??) what the fuck is going on north of the arrow keys?!?! and even further north, 'help' is funny enough on its own, the fact its next to DO, a truly existentially puzzling key, makes it that much better. why is DO so wide?? why are there so many F keys? and apparantly 20 F keys wasn't enough, they had to go on and invent "PF" keys above the numpad. and it doesn't stop there..

the pre-USB world was pretty nuts, but most keyboards still had sane connectors like DE-9's, PS/2, DINs, etc, but not this one

it uses, a, uh, looks like an ethernet cable. weird. but look closer. six pins. AND, big honking square to key it specifically and make it incompatible with the very-similar already-existing 6P6C specification (why?) anyways, that's enough of this crap, moving on

this is the keyboard for my lisp machine, the famous "space cadet keyboard", i get so many fucking emails about this keyboard, christ almighty. people trying to buy it from me, it's a shame, the machines don't boot without them so seperating them to satisfy reddit guy wish fulfillment breaks my heart. it's a lot better. it's from an era where a good computer would set you back half a million and the hardware reflects it. honeywell made it, it's "solid state" insofar as that makes sense for a keyboard, uses the hall effect. there weren't any rats at my office but just in case i seem to have taped something to the underside:

lol. now for accouterments to cover those hideous eggshell white walls:

in order, openbsd, you know it baby, middle is a weird polish promo for the holy mountain, the last thing was a joke whose meaning has been lost to time. chicken and turkey!

i seemed to have been working on some very bizarre electronics projects, personal, during my workday:

god, what the fuck was this?

oh, duh, it's bort's hat. (??)

some reading materials. K&R C is a first edition, somewhat rare. the 9front manuals:

classic, natch. and a huge gear that's clapped

that's it. that's my office apparently.

#w #words

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andersonsbby · 1 month ago

Note

could you do hc for todd with an equally shy reader? Your page is so lovely and I’m looking forward to seeing what you post!

TODD ANDERSONxEQUALLY SHY GN!READER

nav

authors notes: I’m gonna do like.. headcannons or whatever… I’m assuming that’s what you wanted anyway so!

ALSO TYSM, IM SO HAPPY WITH HOW MY PAGE HAS COME OUT SO FOR YOU TO SAY ITS LOVELY MADE ME GIGGLE AND KICK MY FEET. I HOPE YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY !! <33

edit: I just realized you specified headcannons so ignore everything I said about the assuming………. Bye

PRE!RELATIONSHIP..

- You and Todd were so obvious it was genuinely hilarious to everyone around them, like wdym todd slipped your name up in a sweet love poem while reading at the meetings? wyd bud.

- OH MY GOD AND CHARLIE IS SUCH A DICK ABOUT IT, I SWEAR TO YOU!! HE WILL GENUINELY SHOVE TODD INTO YOU!?!?!? And then todd gets all embarrassed and he would turn red and apologize profusely, feeling like some weirdo now.

it’s okay todd we know it wasn’t your fault!

- whatever you do. Don’t let anyone besides like, neil or pitts know about the crush. I swear to you, anybody else and they’re running there mouth.. (It’s not like you’d have to even tell them to know.)

- I feel like Todd’s the typa guy to like look for you in a crowd, if he can’t find you it ruins his mood, however when he does find you, he will immediately walk to you and just follow you around.. you don’t mind though, it’s kinda sweet, in a.. clingy puppy way.

- back to the teasing of the Charlie you know oh so well, he won’t let you free either, if he saw you or todd coming by, he would be like ‘ooo’ … bro shut up

like, if he sees you walking up to them he will laugh and nudge todd, saying ‘look it’s ___!’ making him flustered and blush as he shoved Charlie.

it’s out of love, really!

- ok, if you are as shy as todd.. I really don’t think that neither of you would say anything about liking eachother, therefore I think to actually be in a relationship somebody else would.. like Knox, or Charlie MAYBE even neil, however I think todd would get neil to if it was neil who broke it to you!

- so like, one day Charlie or whoever is at your dorm, you open the door, and see whoever and they just drop it on you… It was awkward.

- but hey now you’re in a relationship with todd!

DURING!RELATIONSHIP

- I don’t think they’re .. much differences in the relationship from friendship at first atleast, yeah you guys have a label now but he’s still incredibly shy and so are you so, the most difference at the start is him just always finding a way to be with you, like oh somebody sat down next to you at the cave? nope, he will do what he needs to get that place, and if he doesn’t get it, he’ll just be upset and possibly annoyed, but I don’t think he’d be like whiny about it or anything i just think everyone would know he was upset because he couldn’t sit with you

atleast now you know all his poems are about you and have been for a while

- I think they’re most pda you’d get from him is hand holding, and it won’t even last for a while if you’re around people, like.. if you reach your hand out he will notice it and maybe take it, but if he doesn’t DONT take it to heart <\3

poor dude isn’t ready for Charlie’s teasing

neither r u btw

maybe idk

- I think however, he will hold your hand the whole time if you were just walking alone. and he would have a small smile with the blush on his face.

- also, I think he would have gift giving as a love language.. I think he would see something and be like “wait ___ would love this..” and look at that, you now.. have a caterpillar .. pin?? ok then.

- I also think he craves touch, like yes he’s to scared to initiate it, so please do hug this guy, play with his hair, hold his hand, give him small massages, kiss his cheeks, nose, forehead, his head, his lips!!! he will love it I promise…!!!!!!?!!?!?!

- if you guys had phones and TikTok he would 100% send you those TikTok’s that are like “me and them” or me and you (I’m the ___ one) no matter if it’s a literal math equation. he will send you it, and you better appreciate every single one of them

-… I don’t think this is important but I don’t think anyone would really strike up an argument. Maybe childish or small ones that aren’t serious just stupid, like a disagreement over like the best whatever, but yeah I don’t think you guys would genuinely argue? I feel like he’s laid back enough to not.. make you upset?

- so yeah, don’t worry about bro cheating, I promise you once his eyes set on you, they won’t leave!

- I also like to think that he writes about you, yes I know I mentioned this many times but wait. he would write about you, and say you caught him he would immediately slam his notebook shut and blush and hide it nervously, like some kid who was caught eating sugar after bed.

- I think he’d love cuddling once you guys got to it, like if you’re alone with him he will somehow try and let you know he wanted to cuddle without .. actually saying it. like, maybe he would slip his arm around you and just nuzzle into you, hoping you got the memo.

- he loves when you kiss him, it always flusters him and gives him butterflies but he loves every second of it.

this is all I got ?!!… anyway I HOPE YOU LIKED THIS !! :3

#𖦹°. ᵎᵎ andersonsbby #dead poets #dead poets fandom #dead poets society hcs #dps boys #dps fandom #dps fanfiction #dps headcanons #dps #dps todd #dps x reader #todd anderson x reader #todd anderson

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skzdust · 5 months ago

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Cinderella in Mary Janes

This fic was written for the @mirohs-aurora-society secret Santa event! My secret Santa was @dinossaurz ! You requested fluff so I really hope you like this! It contains just a bit of angst/drama but it has a very happy ending :)

This is also the first fic I’ve made a playlist for so I hope you like that too!! It contains a healthy mix of emo music and romantic pop!

Side note: as I am an emo music enjoyer I included three references to emo bands/brands in this fic! If you’re familiar with the genre see if you can find them ;)

Enjoy!!

Summary: when emo Wooyoung sits next to you in class, it leads to an unexpected romance. But rumors fly, as they often do… (featuring a few skz boys as friends!)

Pairing: emo! Wooyoung x cutesy! Reader

Includes: college au, emo music/clothing references, cutesy reader, a little Cinderella reference bc that’s my fav movie, watching movies together, Chan, Minho, Hyunjin, and Felix as reader’s besties, rumors and reactions, coffee and study dates

Word count: 3.8k

Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone , @caught-in-the-afterglow , @palindrome969 , @skzstan12345 , @katsukis1wife , @tsunderelino, @hyunjinsjeans , @somethingkindazainy , @silverstarburst , @atzlordz , @breadpuddingboys

Networks: @mirohs-aurora-society

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!

Masterlist

——-

You held back a sigh as you walked into the lecture hall. You did not want to take this biology class, but the requirement had to be fulfilled, especially since you were in your last year of school.

“I don’t get why a film major has to take a science class.” You grumbled to yourself, setting your white frilly bag on the desk in front of you and sitting down.

“I know.”

You jumped as you looked over your shoulder. A boy with long, dark hair was setting his messenger bag down beside you. He was dressed in a black T-shirt with the Your Organic Hatred band logo on it and light-wash jeans, and his jacket was covered in patches and pins. “Oh my God, you scared me.”

He smiled. “I have that effect on people sometimes.”

“I— you just startled me, that’s all.” You sat down, wondering why he’d chosen to sit next to you in the nearly empty lecture hall. You were dressed as opposite to him as you probably could’ve been: a blush-colored top with a white cardigan and a frilly pink miniskirt.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” He sat down, too. “I just wanted to say I love your outfit.”

“Oh… thank you.” You looked down, turning the same color as your top. “I am not looking forward to this class.”

“Me neither.” He said as he pulled out his laptop. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop on your conversation with yourself, but I’m a film major, too.”

You giggled. “That was a very private conversation, you had no right to listen.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, miss…” He trailed off, waiting for your name.

“Y/n.” You said, a little shyly.

“Miss y/n. I will be more considerate of your privacy going forward.”

“I appreciate that, Mister…” You raised your eyebrows.

“Wooyoung.” He grinned, and you noticed an eyebrow piercing. You swallowed. It was hot.

“Mister Wooyoung.” You tried to regain your composure. “So, you’re a film major, too? What’s your concentration?”

“Visual effects. How about you?”

“Screenwriting. I’m taking an editing class this semester though.”

Wooyoung perked up. “Which one?”

“Color correction.”

“440? With Dr. Dewey?”

“Yes!”

“We’re in it together, then.” Wooyoung smiled. “That’s cool.”

“Yeah!” You smiled back. “I hear Dewey can be tough, but he’s ultimately a good professor.”

“Yeah, I had him for editing techniques last semester.” Wooyoung nodded. “He definitely pushes you, but I learned a lot.”

“Well, now I know who to go to when I need help.” You leaned down to your bag to get your notebook out.

“I’d be more than willing to help.” Wooyoung said, and you were glad your face was away from him, because you were furiously blushing again.

You continued to talk with him about classes and professors and the film program until the Biology 110 professor walked in and started the class. Even then, you couldn’t get your mind off Wooyoung, doodling little flowers in the margins as the professor went on about course expectations. You were a good student, you’d read the syllabus already. You only paid attention when she mentioned a homework assignment due in a couple days. You groaned, homework during the first week of classes wasn’t unusual by any means but it was still annoying.

When the fifty minutes were up and the class was over, you packed up your things and stood up. “It was so nice to meet you, Wooyoung… could I get your number?”

Wooyoung’s grin was wide. “I’d love that.”

You handed him your phone with an empty contact open. He filled in his information and handed it back to you. He’d included his birthday, November 26.

You laughed. “Why’d you put your birthday in?”

He shrugged. “I always give people my birthday. I like getting happy birthday texts.”

That’s so cute, you thought, but you said, “Maybe I should start doing that, too.”

“You should. It says a lot about a person, who they send happy birthday texts to.” He nodded sagely.

“I’m sure it does.” You laughed.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow for color correction.” He grinned. “I’ll find you.”

“Sounds good.” You said, going red again.

He laughed and walked out. You finished zipping up your bag and left, off to your next class.

—

That evening, you were at your best friend’s apartment with a few of your other friends. Minho was cooking dinner, and the rest of you were crowded into the small living room.

“So, first day of classes.” Hyunjin said. “How’d it go?”

“Oh my God, I met the cutest guy.” You gushed. “In my biology class, of all places. He’s also a film major, maybe you know him… Wooyoung?”

“Wooyoung?” Felix’s eyes widened. “I just know he’s in a band that plays at Ross’s sometimes, he’s the drummer.”

“I’ve heard he’s a bit of a playboy.” Chan hummed. “Be cautious, y/n.”

“He seemed so sweet.” You mumbled.

“Campus rumors aren’t always true.” Felix put his arm around you. “And drummers are hot. You should go for it. Did he seem interested in you?”

“I mean, I got his number.”

“Text him! Oh my God, text him!” Felix bounced in place. “Ask him on a date!”

“That seems a little presumptuous.” You smiled at his excitement. “But I’ll see if he wants to hang out or something.”

You opened your phone and started a text to Wooyoung, grinning that he’d put a little smiley face emoticon next to his name: “Wooyoung :)”.

“Hey, Wooyoung, it’s y/n.” You mumbled aloud as you composed the text. “Do you want to work on the bio homework together tomorrow, maybe after color correction?”

“You’re in a second class together?” Felix smiled. “Oh, this is meant to be.”

You rolled your eyes and sent the text.

Hyunjin had started to tell you about his painting class when your phone buzzed. You picked it up immediately. “Wooyoung :)” had texted back.

“Hi y/n! I’d love to. I’m free after color correction so we can totally go to the student center or something!” You read, a smile spreading across your face.

“Victory!” Felix pumped his fist in the air. “Date scheduled!”

“It is not a date.” You laughed. “We’re just doing homework.”

“Maybe right now it is.” Hyunjin smiled. “But it could become something more.”

“Exactly!” Felix chimed in.

You looked at Hyunjin. “Oh, not you chiming in.”

He smiled innocently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, yes, you do.” You shook your head, smiling. “I’ll let you all know how my not-date goes, okay?”

—

When you had color correction the next day, you walked into the class looking for Wooyoung. He must not have arrived yet, though, so you sat by some girls you knew from a film class a couple semesters ago. You didn’t remember any of their names, so you hoped you wouldn’t need to address them.

“Hey!” One of them greeted you. “It’s been a while! How are you?”

“Good!” You said absently, still looking around for Wooyoung.

“Who are you looking for?” One of the others said, twisting around in her seat.

“Do you know Wooyoung?” You said quietly.

“Drummer for Ateez Wooyoung?” The first one said. “You’re looking for him?”

You smiled. “Yeah.”

“Careful with him.” One of them said. “He’s super cute, and he knows it.”

That made two people who’d warned you against him. You bit your lip. “He seems so nice, though.”

“He is nice!” The first one said. “That’s the issue. He’s so nice, and then suddenly he’s talking to some other girl, and doesn’t even worry about you anymore.”

“You’re talking from experience, Ella.” One of them nudged Ella’s shoulder, and she rolled her eyes.

You didn’t like these girls. You’d sat near them in your last class, but they’d always seemed a bit mean to you.

You stood up. “I think I’m gonna sit near the front so I can get the notes better.”

“Okay.” Ella nodded. “Cool.”

You gave her a tight-lipped smile and picked up your bag, moving to the front of the room.

As if on cue, Wooyoung walked in the door, waving at you and walking over to sit beside you. Today he was in a black hoodie with a red and black design on it from Open Destruction, and black jeans. A tiny calculator hung from his belt.

“What’s that for?” You nodded at it.

He grinned. “Math, of course.”

“Oh, of course. Just in case.”

“Just in case.” He agreed. “How are you today?”

“I’m good.” You said. “I’m kind of dreading the bio homework, but it has to happen.” You sighed dramatically.

“It does.”

Before you could respond, Dr. Dewey walked into the room. “Hello, everyone! My name is Dr. Dewey, and welcome to color corrections.”

—

After class, you and Wooyoung walked to the student center together. “So, what’s the homework?”

“I think we read the textbook chapter and do the online quiz.” You said. “It shouldn’t be too bad, but I haven’t taken a biology class in a very long time, so I thought having someone to work with would be good.”

“I’m not very good at bio, but maybe if we put our heads together we can come up with something that makes sense.” He smiled.

You got to the student center and set up. Wooyoung went to get a coffee from the coffee shop, and you pulled out your phone.

11:56am, September 4

You: Just got to the student center :)

Felix: OMG YAAAAY

You: Don’t celebrate just yet lol, we’re just hanging out

Hyunjin: Sure. Remember to use a condom, y/n.

You: STOP IT HYUNE

Wooyoung returned with two cups in hand, and you put your phone away. “I didn’t know your coffee order, but you seemed like a caramel latte girl.”

You smiled, taking it. “I am! I love caramel lattes. Thank you, Wooyoung, I really appreciate it.”

He sat down across from you. “Of course.”

You both opened your laptops, navigating to the course page. “Ugh, I’ve said this before, but I hate biology.”

“Me too, but it’s a necessary evil.” Wooyoung said. “Gotta get the science credit.”

“Yeah.” You opened the textbook and began to read the first chapter. It all made sense so far, except for some information about the chemical makeup of microbes.

“I can’t quite get this. Page thirty four.” You said to him.

“Oh. I think I got that.” He began to explain it to you. It was all clear when he said it, and it wasn’t just because he was incredibly attractive as he described it. You stopped him after a couple minutes.

“Okay, I get it now. Thanks! You know, you’re not bad at bio.”

“I guess.” Wooyoung shifted in his seat. “I just don’t like it, so I don’t think I’m great.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, you’re smart, Wooyoung.”

“Thanks.” He smiled at you. “Do you want to move on to the quiz?”

“Yeah.”

You did the quiz together, and both of you got a 90% on it. This was mostly due to Wooyoung’s biology smarts, but you helped on a lot of the questions, too.

“Perfect.” You smiled, closing your laptop. “This was great.”

“It was. You know… you should come to my place sometime. We can watch a movie or something.”

You were suddenly on high alert, the warnings from Chan and Ella echoing in your ears. “That sounds great!” You said anyway. You hadn’t known Wooyoung for long, but you liked him, and you didn’t want to keep your distance.

“I’ll text you.” He said, finishing packing his things.

You walked out together, separating as you walked one direction towards your apartment, and he walked the other. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yes, for sure.” Wooyoung winked. “See you!”

“Bye!” You waved, hoping he couldn’t see your blush at his wink.

—

On Friday, you smoothed out your short white skirt as you stood in front of Wooyoung’s door, taking a breath before knocking.

Someone who was very tall and very not Wooyoung answered the door. “Hello?” He said, smiling and tilting his head. “Um, can I help you?”

“I’m— Wooyoung invited me over.” You stammered.

“Oh!” He leaned inside. “Woo! Your date’s here!”

“Coming!” Wooyoung’s voice said, and the way he didn’t deny you were his date made you go red. He appeared behind the other boy a minute later. “Come on in, y/n!”

“Thanks.” You said softly, stepping inside.

The other boy closed the door behind you, and you followed Wooyoung up the stairs.

His bedroom had a lot of stuff in it, but it was neat. The walls were decorated with band posters, and a drum kit sat in the corner. Trinkets sat on every available surface, and a TV was on the wall.

He switched it on, hopping on the bed. You gingerly sat on the edge, looking at the TV.

“You can get comfy, if you want.” He smiled.

“Okay.” You smiled and took off your shoes, then sat next to Wooyoung on the bed. “Oh, your bed is so comfortable.”

“I know.” He laughed. “I don’t like waking up early.”

“I can see why.”

Wooyoung queued up a movie on the TV, a comedy you’d never seen but wanted to. “I really like this one, if you want to watch a comedy?”

“I’d love to.” You smiled.

He started the movie, and you reclined back onto the pillows beside him.

You didn’t touch, but it already felt intimate to be so close to him. The movie was good, and hearing him laugh so much was adorable. You chatted as you watched, too, talking about the jokes, the characters, other movies you liked, classes, and music. You barely noticed when the movie ended, you were so caught up in your conversation.

Eventually you lay down with him, looking into each others’s eyes as you continued to talk. You began to notice his eyes drifting to your lips, then snapping back to your eyes when you said something. It was clear what he was thinking about.

There was a pause in conversation, and you smiled, just looking at him.

“Can I kiss you?” Wooyoung asked softly.

The alarm bells rang, deafening.

Chan. I’ve heard he’s a bit of a playboy. Be cautious, y/n. Ella. He’s so nice, and then suddenly he’s talking to some other girl, and doesn’t even worry about you anymore.

I’m just another girl to him.

You got up quickly, tears gathering in your eyes.

“It’s okay if not, y/n, I didn’t mean to freak you out or anything.” Wooyoung said, a note of distress in his voice.

“Don’t play around with me, Wooyoung.” You said, your words wavering.

“What? I’m not playing around with— I’m sorry for asking so soon!”

“I’m not just another girl.” You got one shoe on fully and slid the other half-on, ready to get out of there as fast as you could. All he wanted from you was a kiss, or more, and then he’d be done with you. You’d thought you were moving towards something deeper with him, but you should’ve listened to the people you knew.

Sometimes, campus rumors were true.

You ran down the stairs, one of your Mary Janes sliding off on the stairs. You didn’t even worry about it, running out of the house and back to your car. You locked the doors and took a few deep, shuddering breaths, holding back your tears.

Wooyoung hadn’t followed you outside, and you were glad for it. You got yourself together as best you could and turned on your car. Instead of going home, you went to Chan’s apartment.

He answered the door. “Y/n? What happened, are you okay?”

“Wooyoung asked if he could kiss me.” You sobbed.

Chan just looked at you for a second. “Okay, come inside.”

You told Chan and Minho, who was over hanging out, about what had happened. “I was just another girl to him, he was just using me.”

They looked at each other for a long moment. “I’m sorry I told you that, y/n.” Chan said.

“Huh?” You looked at him.

“I heard that from a friend of Ella’s. It sounds like he really does like you. He got you coffee, he invited you over, and you talked for hours. That all sounds like someone who’s actually interested in you.”

“Really?” You hiccuped.

“Yes.” Chan nodded. “And as for Ella, well… she doesn’t sound like the most reliable source, if Wooyoung broke up with her.”

“Yeah, I don’t like her all that much.” You said with a rueful smile. “She talked about her exes all the time when I was in that other class with her.” You tried to remember if one of them had been named Wooyoung, but you couldn’t exactly recall.

“Sounds like someone might be a little bitter.” Minho noted. He looked down. “You’re missing a shoe.”

“Yeah, my Mary Jane fell off on Wooyoung’s stairs.” You held back another wave of tears.

“So, you have to see him to get it back.” Chan said quietly.

“I have to see him in a couple days for class, anyway.” You sighed. “Can I spend the night here? I don’t want to drive.”

“Of course. The couch is all yours.”

“Perfect, thank you, Chan.”

He rubbed your back. “Of course, y/n.”

Minho left a little later, and Chan got some blankets for you. You fell asleep fitfully, even on Chan’s famously comfortable couch.

You woke up the next morning disoriented. You felt like you hadn’t gotten any rest at all. Chan was already up, making eggs on the stove.

“Morning, sleepy. It’s 10.” Chan shoved the eggs around with a spatula. “I thought the smell of breakfast might wake you up.”

“It did.” You smiled. “Thank you for everything.”

“Of course.”

You looked at your phone.

One text from “Wooyoung :)”.

“Hey, I’m sorry about last night. I have your shoe, if you want to meet somewhere and I can give it back.” You read to Chan.

“He apologized.” Chan said. “I think that’s a good sign. If he was trying to use you I don’t know that he’d care enough to try to rebuild the relationship.”

“I guess.” You sighed. “I’ll get the shoe back and hear what he has to say.”

“I think that’s a good idea. But first, eggs.”

—

You gave Wooyoung Chan’s address. Chan had to leave to meet his sister for lunch, leaving you to meet him alone.

“Just give it a chance, okay?” Chan smiled at you, taking his keys off the hook by the door. “And if he’s a dick, we’ll all cut him off forever, okay?”

You smiled back. “Sounds good.”

Chan walked out, and you collapsed onto the couch, trying to prepare for what you’d say to Wooyoung, but all you could think about was yesterday on his bed, looking at each other and talking about anything and everything and smiling at each other.

You wanted to give him another chance, but you didn’t want to get played.

There was a knock at the door. You unlocked it with shaking hands.

Wooyoung was standing there with your pink Mary Jane in one hand and a bouquet of beautiful white and pink flowers in the other. “Hey, I got you these because I thought you’d like the colors, and, um, to apologize, I didn’t mean to freak you out moving so fast.” He said in a rush.

You felt yourself tearing up again, and you stepped aside to make space. “Come on in.”

“Is this your apartment?” He asked, looking around.

“No, it’s my friend Chan’s. I came here last night after, um… what happened, and I ended up sleeping on the couch, partially because I only had one shoe.”

“Well, I can help with that.” Wooyoung held it up.

You took the flowers from him, pushing your face into them and inhaling the beautiful scent. “Woo, these are beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like them.” His smile was tentative, like he was… nervous.

You set them on the counter and went to sit on the couch, holding out your leg.

Wooyoung slipped the shoe on, looking at you. You could see him biting the inside of his cheek.

“I’m sorry about yesterday.” You sighed. “I heard all these people telling me you were kinda a… a playboy, and I freaked out.”

Wooyoung closed his eyes. “Yeah, those rumors have been following me around since me and Ella broke up. She can be really nasty when she’s angry, which is part of why we… you know, broke up.”

You felt a flicker of hope. “So… you actually do like me?”

He laughed. “Of course I like you, y/n. I really did just want to kiss you.”

You patted the couch beside you. Wooyoung sat.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked.

His eyes widened. “Do you really want to?”

“Yes.” You said breathlessly.

He gently moved one hand up to your hair, combing through it with his fingers. “You’re so pretty, y/n. Yes, I’d love to kiss you.” And with that, he moved forward, closing the gap between you and pressing his lips to yours.

It wasn’t anything rough or demanding, rather, sweet and affectionate. Wooyoung was gentle and sweet and he tasted like mint, like he’d just brushed his teeth or had been chewing gum or something.

When you both pulled away, you bit your tingling lip. “You’re not mad?”

“No.” He shrugged. “You were just doing what you thought was best with the information you had. I don’t blame you for that.”

You smiled. “Can we go on another date then?”

He smiled back. “Of course. I know emo music isn’t entirely your style, but there’s this band I really like that’s coming into town in a couple days, and I have an extra ticket, if you’d like to come.”

Your eyes widened. “Actually, I really love emo music.”

“Really? You have about the most opposite style to emo I’ve ever seen.” He laughed.

“Hey, just because I don’t commit to the look doesn’t mean I can’t like the music!”

He raised his hands in surrender. “My bad, my bad! But, um, you want to do the concert, then?”

“Here, um, you’ve got…” You brushed a stray piece of hair away from his face. “I’d love to go to the show. What band?”

“Climb In, Girl. They’re one of my favorites.” You could see him light up as he mentioned them.

“That works out, I love them too!” You beamed.

“Perfect.” Wooyoung took your hand, squeezing it. “I’m so excited.”

“Me too.”

You just smiled at each other for a moment before Wooyoung leaned in to kiss you again.

#skzdust writes #mirohsaurorasociety #mirohsaurorasociety secret Santa #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez fic #wooyoung #jung wooyoung #Wooyoung fluff #jung wooyoung fluff #wooyoung fic #ateez wooyoung #stray kids #bang Chan #stray kids fic #hyunjin #Felix #Lee know

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lsd-astronaut · 17 days ago

Text

A Hobbit's Guide to Court Someone (Merry Brandybuck x Fem!Human!Reader)

Summary: Meriadoc Brandybuck has fallen irredeemably in love. It shouldn't be that hard to confess, right?

Purely indulging myself at this point with these stupid fics lmfao if you like it and want to see more, requests are open! Refer to the pinned post for the character list and the rules

Like and reblog!!!!

Post-writing edit: This is so long omg😭😭😭I cooked a bit too hard but I'm actually so proud of it. Yes, Merry, is a bit stupid in it, but we like an idiot in love

Couldn't bear to separate them but this is not a Pippin fic sorry guys he does appear tho!

Love. Such a beautiful word, that encompassed almost every other feeling. There existed as many interpretations of the concept as visible stars in the sky of the Shire. For one Meriadoc Brandybuck, love was not in his list of topmost priorities, nor he felt like it was something that truly suited him. This was not born from insecurity, he claimed, but simply out of convenience. Life was much more than 'tying the knot' as he so crashly put it. He still had some years of fooling around before he definitely had to inherit his father's position as Master of Buckland, and then he would just get together with whoever he saw first, his worry as nonexistent as that.

It all changed on the year 3018 of the Third Age, when his cousin Frodo just had to inherit a cursed ring that also acted as a weapon of mass destruction. But the gods be damned if he wouldn't help him.

Thirteen months and a destroyed ring later, he would say they have done a pretty good job at avoiding the global catastrophe of all time. Yes, the only victims had been his burnt arm, and Frodo's psyche being stretched out to its absolute limits, but it was nothing some rest in the Shire and a certain blonde hobbit that refused to leave his side no matter who complained couldn't heal somewhat.

And this is exactly when everything changed for one Meriadoc Brandybuck. All in all, it should have been a normal day in the Houses of Healing; his arm just needed the weekly checkup, a routine he had grown accustomed to and was also fairly insensitivized to. How could he have guessed that Éowyn's excited shout was a premonition of what was to come?

"By the gods! You're here finally! What took you so long?"

A giggle made Merry's ears perk up and he unconsciously turned a bit to concentrate on that unknown voice.

"The roads to Minas Tirith are in disrepair, so close we are still to the war, and our caravan stopped in every settlement along the way so we could help the survivors as much as it was possible."

"A noble endeavour, indeed." Éowyn smiled. "It is in your personality, after all. It shouldn't surprise me. But you're here now for good, aren't you?"

A bump on Merry's good shoulder made him break out of his reverie and he turned to look at the cause, which was looking at him with raised eyebrows.

"Are you even listening to me?" His younger cousin, Pippin, knew the answer before he could even open his mouth and shook his head. Any possible retort was rendered useless when the curtain to their section was pulled aside and the most beautiful person he had ever seen appeared on the makeshift threshold.

"Oh!" You smiled with a little surprise. "I had the impression I was only to treat one patient. Which one of you it is, then? Or perhaps it is a parent?"

Pippin had the gall to laugh at the human's words while Merry could do nothing but blush furiously as he noted that the gentle voice matched your appearance almost exactly.

"My name is Peregrin Took, and this is Meriadoc Brandybuck, my cousin. I'm afraid this is the most we'll grow, and even by hobbit standards we're extremely tall."

At least you had the decency to look embarrassed after the correction. There had been so many Big Folk who had just laughed at them and continued on to treat them like the children they looked like.

"My most sincere apologies if I have offended you, Master Hobbits. I must admit I had never met your kind, so I didn't know what it is that you look like. The feet should have been a clear indicator."

Once again, Pippin laughed but even Merry could notice the tinge of embarrassment that was hinted in his voice; hobbits had a lot of pride in their feet, and even some did intricate braids on their hair that even surpassed the skill of dwarves, although this was something said when the night had advanced and ale ran as easy as water. Still, for someone to so blatantly refer to others' feet was seen as scandalous at best and offensive at worst. Aragorn had known about this, having met Bilbo all those years ago, but it was no wonder other Big Folk didn't.

Clearing his throat, Pippin broke the tension and pointed at Merry. "He is the one with the wound. I was just here to give him some conversation."

You nodded with a smile. "A most effective strategy. Talking with someone is a good way to distract them from pain of any kind."

Walking toward the box with the supplies, you didn't notice the scowl Merry directed at his cousin, and the subsequent teasing grin from Pippin. Once you had grabbed everything you needed, you lifted the hobbit's sleeve and started prodding gently along the burns' outline. A sudden intake of breath made you look up.

"Did I hurt you?" Merry shook his head vehemently and swallowed, not daring to make eye contact with you. Humming in doubtful agreement, you continued with your ministrations. "Should I believe Éowyn about the cause of these burns?"

"Depends on what she said." The blonde hobbit's voice was a bit strained, but he cleared his throat to hide it.

"Oh, nothing, just that you saved her from being killed in battle by a certain Witch King." At his slight nod, you smiled gratefully. "She has been my best friend since we were little kids. Alright, all done!"

Merry looked down at his right arm, which was now covered completely by bandages. Something had been pressed at certain spots that ranged from his shoulder to his hand; a poultice, most likely. It was working, though, for he felt the coolness seeping in his abused skin, but it was a gentle thing, not like the freezing that pierced his nerves every now and then.

"If the bandages irritate your skin, or start itching, come back. I should not tell you that scratching is completely out of the question, right?" Merry nodded like an idiot. Your voice and presence had just that effect on him, and he had only met you for less than ten minutes.

With a satisfied grin at his understanding, you closed your supply box and stood up. "It was a pleasure to meet both of you, Peregrin and Meriadoc." And off you were.

Merry shook his head and looked down at his hands. A most unusual scoff sounded from his side.

"What is wrong with you?"

"Alright, so let me get this straight. You met someone and want to court her, yet you haven't spoken more than two sentences with her?"

"Aye, it was more like one sentence." Ignoring Merry's glare, Pippin continued. "You had to be there, it was really pathetic."

Sam nodded and sipped from his cup of ale. Honestly, he was more than used to Merry's and Pippin's shenanigans. But this? This exceeded even his wildest expectations. From Pippin he would have expected it, but Merry was supposed to be the mature one of the two. Now, love had its ways to make even the most logical person lose all their wits, and not even him had been left out, his love for Frodo a proof of it. So, Merry couldn't be faulted at all.

"You have to help me." Merry looked desperate, and Sam felt sorry for him.

"I understand, but nothing I tell you will work out if you can't even talk with her."

"I can talk to her." Sam raised his eyebrow, and Pippin muffled a snort in his own cup. "Okay, maybe she makes me a bit nervous, but I can definitely talk to her."

With a sigh, Sam looked up to the ceiling, gathering his thoughts. After some seconds, he looked at the two hobbits in front of him. Throwing back the last of the ale, he slammed the cup on the table and stood up.

"Alright, I'll help you. But you have to do exactly as I tell you."

The first thing that Sam had proposed was flowers. Everyone liked flowers, and Big Folk women were surely no exception. Having been helped by an amused Faramir who had given them access to the library, the three hobbits had created a bouquet that would have been the envy of everyone in the Shire.

Standing as he was now in front of your little study door, Merry was rethinking all his choices up to that moment. The bouquet was clasped in his hands, which clenched with a strength that still was barely enough to hide the trembling in his fingers. With a deep breath, he pressed his lips and knocked. You didn't let him wait for long.

"Hello? Oh, it's you, Meriadoc! I almost couldn't see you behind all those flowers. What brings you here?"

Not trusting himself, he simply thrust the bouquet towards you. With a surprised expression, you held them to your chest. "And what did I do to deserve these? Is it because of your arm? I was just doing my job." The little smile you flashed at him made his legs feel like melting butter. "But still, these are really pretty, and I was in need of some of these for my medicines. Thank you very much, Meriadoc."

You turned around and went to put the flowers on an empty vase by your window. The hobbit gathered his courage and cleared his throat, calling for your attention. But as your eyes met with his, it was like all his bravado had vanished in a puff of smoke. Instead, he only said "My friends call me Merry."

The wide grin you gave him was the final straw, and he turned around and ran out of the room.

"You did not. Tell me you didn't."

Merry just groaned as his head lay on the hard table in the pub they frequented after their daily obligations were completed. No pity was left on the hobbit's face that sat in front of him.

"Do you realize how rude that was? Actually, that isn't even the main problem at all. You couldn't even say anything to her."

"Now, that's not true." Merry lifted his face a bit and glared halfheartedly at Sam. "I did speak to her."

"'My friends call me Merry.' Astounding." Sam's tone was deadpan. "Should we call for a celebration?"

"I wouldn't be opposed to that." Pippin busied himself with his ale as the other two glared at him. "You could always invite her."

His older cousin shook his head. "Sam is right. I can't even string two words together when she is near me. A party would be madness."

Pippin scoffed and gave a pointed look at Merry. "Alright then, I have an idea, seeing as Sam's was not successful."

"Not because of its validity," came the sullen retort. "Should we be worried about it, though?"

The younger hobbit waved his hand dismissively. "Of course not! It's a pretty normal idea, all things considered. Now, you're in the Rohan army, it would not be strange that you got wounded during a drill and you had to go to the Houses of Healing. It doesn't even have to be an actual injury."

Merry mulled it through. He had to give credit to Pippin where it was due. He wouldn't have come with that idea in a million years. Perhaps this could be attributed to a deeply ingrained sense of justice, or more probably, he just didn't feel it right to lie to your face. Yet, was he truly this desperate to seriously consider it?

"I'll give it a try." He ignored Sam's wide eyes. "However, I'll get injured. It has to look real."

"You do you, Merry, just don't get knocked out or you won't get to see her pretty face," Pippin teased.

Putting Pippin's idea to practice hadn't been too hard. A most unexpected motion from Merry that had him positioned perfectly to get the flat of his opponent's blade straight on the face, and he was now sitting on a bed in the Houses of Healing, as you fretted over the bruises on his face. He'd have to give his cousin something as a thank you gift, perhaps a sweet from his favourite bakery.

"Now, how did this happen?" Your worried voice made him come back to reality. Maybe it was the pain that did the trick, for the words came forth with no trouble this time.

"A simple distraction and faulty footwork did it for me."

"Really? I have seen you fight." At his surprised expression, you rushed to explain. "My study's window overlooks the training field, and it's good entertainment when the paperwork is too much. Also, it's quite easy to tell you apart from everyone else."

Merry could only but blush furiously, which was concealed by the big bruise that surely covered his face at this point. That you had been watching him and that your eyes hadn't overlooked him shouldn't make his heart beat as fast as it was doing right now. Alas, these things cannot be controlled.

Your work done, you gave an appraising look that had Merry looking down like a lovesick fool. "If my word is something to be believed, I think that your pretty face will heal up nicely in no time."

Before he could open his mouth, a blonde head appeared on the door and called your name excitedly. You grinned at Éowyn and, after giving Merry the good to go, you walked up to her.

Once again, any possible conversation between you had been interrupted by someone or something. Wait, had you said "pretty face"?

"I can't believe it didn't work. It was actually a great idea!" Pippin was in disbelief after Merry had told them all about the interaction.

"At this point, it has to be your fault," mumbled Sam as he busied himself in peeling an orange. "If you can't talk to her, then nothing we tell you will work."

Merry hated that Sam was right, and bit his lip looking down while wringling his hands. "Perhaps all this was just a sign from the world that this isn't meant to be?"

"Wow, you weren't lying, Sam. He is that infatuated." Frodo chimed in from his bed to which he had been bound for the last weeks or so while he recovered from the whole ordeal of defeating Sauron. "Now, Merry, how about you listen to me? Invite her for a picnic in the prettiest place you know around these parts. Make sure you'll be alone and relaxed. The reason the other ideas didn't work was probably because you were too nervous."

It sounded like a good enough idea. Merry was a bit doubtful of it working, but he was nothing but a stubborn hobbit, and Frodo's proposal ear cuff stared at him in the face as if saying, What do you have to lose?

That you had accepted at all, even after every blundering of his from the last weeks, had surprised him in great measure. For him, it just attested what a big heart you had for everyone around you. And he wanted to get you all for himself? It was selfish, and it made his insides bitter at the sudden realization. Even if you didn't accept his feelings, he still wanted you to spend a nice afternoon.

"Did you make the food?" You smiled at him, as you bit onto a jam-filled pie. Conversation came so easily to you, and you were trying so hard to make him comfortable. Merry felt like an ass that he couldn't even speak or look at you normally. He was trying so hard.

"No," he shook his head. "One of my best friends made it for us."

Revelling in the flavour, you continued eating. "Well then, my congratulations to the chef. This is the best pie I've ever had."

"I'll make sure he knows it."

"You don't cook?" You smiled gently at him as he shook his head with clear embarrassment. "My mother tried to teach me when I was little, but I was more interested in reading my books, so you're not alone in your plight." Merry could feel a knot forming in his throat at your teasing voice. He had done nothing to deserve such trust from you. He did not answer you, instead busying himself with his own portion.

"Merry." Your clear voice cut through the murkiness of his thoughts like a sharpened knife, and he turned to look at you. "Is there something wrong?"

The hobbit shook his head, but you weren't fooled so easily, accustomed as you were to treating all kinds of patients. Frodo was a recurring one, and Merry knew how prone he was to retreating to his own mind when he was having a bad day, so it was no wonder you didn't believe him now.

"Don't lie to me, Merry. What is it?" You tried to look into his eyes, but he hid his gaze, as he was sure there were visible tears threatening to make their escape now. "Is it me?"

At that, Merry's head snapped up and he rushed to shake it when he saw your hurt expression. "No, of course not!" His voice finally came out loud and clear. "It's just that I like you so much that my words fail to come out."

Silence overcame the little picnic spot, only broken by the occasional bird chirping, and the wind rustling the trees around you. What had he just said? Oh, how he wished the ground could swallow him whole right this moment. Wait, you were smiling?

"Finally. It took you so long." You grinned and scooted closer to the gaping hobbit. "I thought you would never do it."

"W-What do you mean?"

"It means that Éowyn told me all about it some weeks ago after Pippin told her."

Merry couldn't believe what he was hearing. He furrowed his eyebrows. "Why didn't you say anything, then?"

"To be honest, I did not believe her when she first told me. But then you brought me that big bouquet of flowers that was twice your size, and it did dawn on me. Speaking of it, did the flowers have any special meaning in particular?"

Merry nodded, still dumbfounded. "Well, it meant 'I love you.'"

"Really?" Your eyes widened and so did your grin. "I'm afraid I only know about the medicinal properties of plants and flowers, and not their other meanings. I'll have to study on it."

"Are you joking?"

You scoffed, but the smile was still present. "Why would I be joking? Now, if I can be honest with you, Merry, I'll confess that my original plan was to leave the Houses of Healing after some days, and continue on my travels. Can you guess the reason of my staying?"

Merry shook his head, and you sighed before leaning forward, and gently grabbing his cheeks, brought your lips to his. The kiss was nothing out of this world from an objective perspective, and Merry had experienced more than he could count throughout his life. Yet, in that moment, he felt like a light was travelling across his body, illuminating even the most hidden nooks and crannies of his being.

After what felt like an eternity, you pulled away, and noises started surrounding him once again, focused as he was on you. A blush covered your face, and you grinned softly.

"Can you guess it now?"

Merry couldn't trust his voice now, and hoped with all his being that by staring at you, his eyes could do the talking for him. It seemed to work, for you laughed and leaned forward again. Now, more prepared, he eagerly returned the kiss.

Oh, love, what a beautiful and tricky feeling.

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