#i have one of my preferred names used in the game and now its all ive been thinking about
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toxicanonymity · 1 day ago
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Literally any smut with Tommy Miller. I know you have fics with both Joel and Tommy and some imagines with gym trainer/perv tommy but I was hoping you could do something with game or movie canon tommy, I've searched the depths of this app but to no avail! Preferably some jealousy or something dirty and filthy. I hope you're taking care of yourself as well, we need each other more than anything right now and I fully appreciate every bit of serotonin your amazing writing brings me and the rest of us who love you💜
lunch mates
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TOMMY MILLER X f!READER | WC: 1100
Warnings: 18+ jealous, unmarried patrol partner Tommy in Jackson, he's not exactly a gentleman, PIV, praise, pet names. You can't skip lunch. You just can't.
Notes: Tysm nonnie 💜 love you too. I also have a dark post-outbreak Tommy here: birds of prey. It's in the raider universe but Joel's not in it.
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You had just sat down in the mess hall when a handsome stranger joined you. He was new in town and had dark blonde hair, lively brown eyes, and must have been In his thirties. In the corner of your eye, your patrol partner and friend Tommy puffed out his chest and walked toward the table without even getting his food first.
Tommy didn’t look at you. He placed his hands on the table, leaned forward, looked the man in the eye, and wore a subtle sneer.
“Not sure I caught your name, buddy. I’m Tommy.”
“Tate,” the man replied and stuck out his hand, which appeared to get crushed based on how Tommy's forearm and wrist veins bulged.
Tommy sat down across from him with a smile. Tate chuckled, then turned to you. “Don’t think I caught your name either, sweetheart.”
Your face heated up, and Tommy watched you like a hawk as you unconsciously bit your lip and looked down, suppressing a smile. As soon as you looked at Tate and opened your mouth to tell him, Tommy’s face darkened and he interrupted, “She’s with me.”
Tate looked at you. “Are ya?”
Your heart began to race, unsure what to say. “We normally eat together before patrol.”
“The more the merrier?” Tate asked defiantly, then held up his hands like he was joking after Tommy stared him down.
As Tate walked away, Tommy muttered “That’s a boy. You need a man.”
As you took in his words, your eyes fell on his swollen biceps, stretching his jeans shirt.
“Why do I need a man?” You asked. “You know I can handle myself.” As the words came out of your mouth, a montage moved through your head of all the times you’d seen Tommy hunt or shoot. The time he mowed down three raiders on their way up the ridge, and yelled, “Woo!” as the last one fell to the ground.
“Sure, ya can,” he winked, making your chest get all warm. “I know ya take care of yourself, sugar.”
He looked you up and down with his eyes sparkling.
“What?” You asked.
He chuckled with half a smile, then lowered his voice. “Sometimes….. ya look like ya could use a dick, is all.”
“Tommy” you scolded him I a whisper, face burning, loins tingling.
“No?” He asked.
You didn't answer.
"I'm observant," He shrugged. "That's why I'm the best patrol partner," he winked.
You squeezed your thighs together as he stood up to get some food. His back was so broad, and his jeans weren’t particularly tight but the way they skimmed his thighs–He glanced back and grinned to himself. Caught you looking. He didn't say anything, but he casually stretched like a slut, then took his time walking away.
“Oh my God,” you mumbled into your hands as you covered your burning face. When he returned to the table, it took all your effort not to look at his crotch. You'd seen the bulge in his pants before and weren’t immune to its effects.
You ate most of the meal in a silence thick with tension. Even the way his jaw moved when he chewed was making you wet.
“C’mon,” he said right after finishing his drink.
“It’s not time,” you protested.
“Gotta stop by my place,” he explained. “Somethin’ I gotta take care of.”
As you left the dining hall, you passed Tate’s table and he gave you a subtle smile and wave. Tommy put his arm around you.
Tommy’s place smelled like him, like the day after a pinetree campfire. You sat down on the sofa to wait for him to do what he had to do. A buzz in your gut told you what it was.
Moments after he locked the door, he was sitting next to you, his thigh against yours. He took your chin in his hand and leaned in right away. He kissed you hungrily, humming “Mmm,” into your mouth as he groped your thigh.
As soon as you kissed him back, he growled, “C’mere,”and pulled you into his lap, straddling him. He buried his head in your neck and murmured, “What’s a pretty girl like you doin’ starving herself of cock, hmm?” then pressed light kisses and nibbles into your neck that drove you crazy as he unbuttoned your shirt.
He slid his broad hand into your bra and thumbed your nipple as he kissed your neck. Then with both hands on your butt, he pulled you closer and you could feel all of him through his jeans. The warm throbbing of his stiff cock made you weak. He moved you against him for a couple of minutes, then slid his palm between your legs and whistled at your wetness soaking through the demin. “Ohh, I’m gonna stuff her full, sugar.” He urgently thumbed the button to your jeans, and helped you take them off in a hurry.
You hovered over him and his knuckles rubbed against your cunt as he palmed himself, then undid his belt and jeans. The next thing you felt was the hot thwack of his fat, stiff cock against your mound.
“Fuck,” you whispered.
He held his cock and shifted you onto it, and groaned as you sank down. With an upward thrust, he bottomed out, and the stretch felt so foreign and right. “Whew,” he looked at where your bodies were joined, then began to move you on him. “Knew you were a tight little thing,” he panted. His cheeks flushed under his freckles. “God Almighty,” he sighed, fucking you from the bottom.
He held you tight and his hips were powerful and smooth as he thrust up into you. The rhythm hypnotized you and you lost your sense of time. You lost yourself in the pleasure, and let yourself moan.
“Good girl,” he praised you. “Take it like ya need it, …’cause ya do.”
You rode him, savoring the stiff girth that was filling you to the brim. He encouraged you with a breathy, “attagirl.” He pulled down your bra and nosed our nipples and sucked your tits. He twitched inside you and cursed to himself, then abruptly lifted you off and came all over his shirt and yours.
“Felt too good,” he admitted. Your empty cunt spasmed faintly. "You gotta really let go next time if you wanna cum." He tucked himself away and fixed your hair. He gave you a long kiss, held you, and you put your head on his chest. He offered, “or, I could, uh–”
But the clock on the wall caught your eye, and you were startled by the time. Now y’all would be late if you weren’t careful.
“Maybe later,” you said.
He gave you a shirt of his to wear, and once both of you were cleaned up, you left for patrol.
------
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Thank you for reading!
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buryam-soul · 6 months ago
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I hope picking the Male Rover from Wuthering Waves is the reason I sort out my gender situation bcs that would be a pretty funny way for that to happen
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sourcherryandsprinkles · 3 months ago
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can i request cregan stark modern au, with jaces younger or twin sister and maybe they like hide the relationship and its like fluffy and maybe smutty
Request: five times cregan and jace’s sister almost get caught and one time jace does find out about their relationship. I don’t think he would be too mad. He knows cregan is a good guy and would treat you well. 
I usually dislike body hair (personal preference) and beards, but Cregan has a short beard in this one (as he does in all of my fics for him) because I said so, and because he’s a Stark. I think it is mandatory and missing for his character — manifesting for a beard in season 3.  Also, this is 6.6k words...idk how that happened
p.s. You can find this fic on AO3 under the title Who are we to fight the alchemy
Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f receiving), mention of a fight and blood, short appearance of Larys Strong (he needs his own warning),
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When you started college and moved in with Jace, he had warned his teammates that his sister was off limits and that if he caught any of them looking at you, he would not be afraid to throw hands. He may be smaller than a lot of his teammates, but Jace was very protective of you. 
They were good guys, brothers to Jace, but he also knew their history with girls. He knew the dirty secrets; the dramas, who they had sex with, where, and details that he wished he could forget about. They were not boyfriend material — at all. 
You were not going to lie, Jace’s teammates were hot hockey players. It was tempting to turn your life into a cliché book trope and hook up with one of them, but you refrained from doing so. They were not worth being another name on their list. 
Until one of them changed your mind. 
It was a Tuesday night. You were in your room, reading on your bed while Jace had friends over playing video games. You could hear them shout at the TV and each other. After a few chapters, you wandered to the kitchen to get a cookie from the cookie jar, but found its content empty. 
‘’Jace,’’ you said under your breath. 
Living with your brother had a certain strange familiarity to it, a comforting echo of home despite the newness of being on your own. But some things hadn’t changed. Like how Jace never mentioned when he emptied something. Like that one time you wanted to make spaghetti, only to discover he had left an empty pasta box in the cupboard. Or when he used your shower towel because his was in the laundry. These moments made you miss your mom's presence — she’d always been there to keep the peace and enforce some order.
As you stared at the empty jar with frustration, one of Jace’s friends walked in behind you, his eyes immediately landing on the same spot. You could not see who it was, but his tall shadow was towering over you and you could smell a faint woodsy cologne. 
‘’If you’re looking for a cookie, Jace ate them all,’’ you said, throwing your brother under the bus.
‘’That was me, actually,’’ admitted a deep voice with a northern accent from behind you. You turned to see Cregan standing there, his expression sheepish. ‘’Jace said to get anything I wanted. Sorry.’’
You forced a smile, the irritation fading as your eyes met his gray ones. ‘’It’s fine. I’ll get something else.’’ 
Cregan watched as you moved to the freezer above the fridge to get the ice cream out. You opened the lid and saw that it was almost empty, so there was no need to put it in a bowl. 
‘’Did you make them?’’ he asked as you reached for a spoon in the cutlery drawer.
‘’I did,’’ you answered with a smile. 
‘’They were really good.’’ 
‘’Thank you. If Jace baked them himself, they would have turned out like hockey pucks: black and hard,’’ you joked.
Cregan offered a light chuckle as he stepped towards the counter, his gray eyes studying the details of your face. He hadn’t really looked at you until now, respecting Jace’s warning, but now he was struggling to look away and go back to the living room. 
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・° 
Two months later, you found yourself making out with the Wolves’ captain in his big jeep. His hair was damp and he smelled strongly of soap and deodorant, having showered twenty minutes ago after practice. 
The windows were beginning to fog as you were kissing, your hands all over Cregan's shoulders and chest. His tongue slipped into your mouth, causing you to grip his shirt when it grazed yours. You could drown in his kisses. 
Getting frustrated by the gear shift separating you, you attempt to climb over it and fumbled your way to the driver seat onto Cregan’s lap without breaking contact with his lips. You bumped your head and legs along the way, and let out a little curse. Cregan laughed, pulling back his seat as far as it would go so the steering wheel would not press in your back. 
From his new angle, you could feel the warmth of Cregan’s body against yours. It wasn’t as effective as cuddling in bed, but Jace would get home soon and Cregan’s small dorm bed was not made for two. He barely fitted himself. 
He slipped his large hands under your shirt, his thumbs inching up and up your sides, feeling your soft and warm skin while his mouth locked itself to your jaw. ‘’Your brother would kill me if he knew about us,'' he said as his mouth trailed down your neck, leaving wet kisses up to your collarbone.
You rolled your hips to meet his, the friction causing Cregan’s breath to stutter. His hands were still in your shirt, large and warm, leaving trails of fire over your back. He felt like he was sixteen and in high school all again, not twenty-one and in college. 
‘’Gods, you’re going to kill me if your hand keeps going rubbing against me like that.’’ 
You smirked and tipped your head back to give him more room. ‘’Jace is not the boss of my relationships. I can see whoever I please,’’ you replied, raking your hand through his hair and grazing the side of his short beard.
Cregan scoffed against your neck. ‘’Then what are we doing in my car instead of your bed?’’ 
He was only teasing, but it still made you sigh. You didn’t think living with Jace would put a wrench in your dating life. He meant well, but gods was it frustrating. 
Not waiting for your response, Cregan continued to shower your neck with kisses, his teeth nipping at the skin before his lips soothed it. You didn’t think kisses would make you feel like this, but this man had an effect on your body that you could not explain. You pulled at his hair when he bit at the sensitive flesh there, leaving a small mark you will have to conceal later. 
You wished you didn’t have to hide your relationship. You wished you could kiss him whenever you desired, go to his games and wear his jersey and cheer for him loudly when he scored a goal, cuddle with him on the couch without looking at the door every five minutes to check if Jace was coming home. 
Cregan pulled back suddenly, looking up at you with his gray eyes. ‘’I should go, Jace is gonna come home soon. Walking from campus to here takes less than thirty minutes,’’ he said in a hushed tone, his breath coming in short puffs. 
‘’Just a few minutes more,’’ you bargained, stealing a few kisses from his lips, not yet ready to part. ‘’I have a class at 8pm tomorrow and you leave for your away game Saturday morning. I won’t be seeing you until Sunday or Monday.’’ 
He let out a sigh, also dreading the moment he’ll leave you, and held you for a moment, his hands gently running up and down your back. You drinked in his scent and warmth, winding your arms around his neck and pressing your head in his neck. 
The moment was ruined as you shifted and accidentally hit the horn with your ass, the loud sound echoing  in the parking lot. 
Startled, you jumped and then burst into laughter, but Cregan didn’t join in. His expression was stone serious as he stared intently at something in the distance. Confused, you followed his gaze and spotted Jace standing by the doors of your apartment building, his gym bag slung over his shoulder. He was scanning the parking lot, clearly trying to figure out which car had honked, but with the lights off and the evening darkness, there was no way for him to tell which one it was.
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・° 
The second time you almost got caught together was before a hockey game. The team the Wolves were playing against was strong and Cregan texted you to come outside the locker room and give him a good luck kiss.  
You smiled at the text and sent a quick ‘coming’ to your boyfriend. ‘’I’m gonna get something to drink,’’ you told your friends. 
You snaked your way through the students and families waiting in the entrance to get to their seats and quickly made your way down to the locker room. You knew where it was from bringing over Jace’s skates last Saturday at practice. They were essential for getting on the ice, how could he forget them? 
Family, friends — and girlfriends — were not allowed in that area of the arena, so you kept an eye out for anyone from staff. You could always play the ‘I was looking for the bathroom’ card, but it would add another lie on top of the others you and Cregan were piling up since the beginning of your relationship. 
You found him leaning against the wall, waiting. He was in his compression pants and an old Wolves tee shirt, looking like a complete snack. You could see everything in those tight pants. And the way his hair was tied at the back made him look sexier. 
He looked up when he heard someone approach and a soft smile curled on his lips. ‘’There you are,’’ Cregan said, his voice low and gravelly as he stepped to you and pulled you to his chest. You fit against him perfectly, like a missing piece snapping into place. 
He leaned down and pulled you into a kiss, his hand cupping your face gently. It was supposed to just be a quick kiss — a quick ‘good luck’ smooch, not anything too serious. But the moment your mouth met his, you both got carried away. 
Cregan grabbed you with ease by your thigh, lifting you up, and you winded yours around his neck, almost forgetting that he had a game to play in twenty minutes.  
‘’Okay, that’s enough,’’ you decided, breaking the kiss. ‘’You’re gonna be late for pre-game talk.’’
Cregan sighed but gently lowered you back down. Your boots hit the floor, but he didn’t let you go without stealing one last kiss. You smiled into it, then stepped back just as Jace came barreling down the hallway, clearly in a rush.
He came to a stop, frowning when seeing you. ‘’What are you doing here?’’ His gaze shifted to Cregan, suspicion creeping into his voice. ‘’And why are you talking to my sister?’’
Cregan didn’t miss a beat. ‘’She was looking for you, actually,’’ he lied smoothly. ‘’Baela asked her to tell you she wouldn’t make it to the game tonight. She and Rhaena drove home for the weekend for their dad’s birthday.’’
You made a mental note to thank him later for the quick thinking. Baela had mentioned her trip, and Jace had been sulking and pouting ever since, upset that his girlfriend would miss a big game. 
Jace nodded, still catching his breath. ‘’Yeah, I know. She already told me.’’ 
‘’Oh?’’ you played along effortlessly. ‘’She must have forgotten that she already told you. She has a lot on her mind right now, you know.’’ 
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°  
Your breathy 'ah's and whimpers were bouncing off the walls as Cregan's strong hands gripped your thighs and held you in place while he lapped at your pussy like a starved man. The intensity of pleasure forced you to grip the headboard. The scruff of his beard was rubbing against your sensitive skin, chafing, but you kind of like it. 
It was your first time having the apartment to yourself for more than two hours, and you were going to make the most out of it. Jace was at a bar in the city with some guys from the team. He won't be back until at least 1am...or even later. 
When you heard about the night out at the bar, you texted your man and let him know so he could come over after Jace leaves. His teammates were disappointed that he was not joining, but Cregan told them to have fun for him. 
He’ll have his own fun with you in the sheets.
The moment he crossed the door, your mouth was on his and you were unbuttoning your shirt, eager to feel his hands on your tits. 
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, mewling at the way he was suckling on your clit. No one ever made you feel this good before. Not that you had a lot of experience to compare with.
His sweet assault on your pussy continued, the sounds you were making making him rock hard. He loved it — pleasing his girl. 
''I'm gonna— I'm gonna come soon,'' you whined, feeling your core tighten and rocking you body forward in the same rhythm, fucking yourself on Cregan's tongue.  
The hockey player let out a low grunt below you, encouraging you to use him how you wished. He let go of one of your thighs to run the back of his hand up your stomach and grab your breast the way you liked, his calloused thumb and finger capturing your peaked nipple, rubbing it as he flicked your clit again. 
Your orgasm hit and you made circular jerks of her hips, pushing down on Cregan’s tongue and chin, drenching both. His name fell from your lips and you continued on like this for a moment, toes curling and legs tensing. Until you had nothing else to give.
He pressed a last kiss to your sensitive clit, then helped you clamber off him. ‘’You remember when I said the cookies you made were really good?’’
You hummed, although confused where he was going with this. 
‘’This is better.’’ 
Your face flamed up at his words, not expecting such a vulgar thing to come out. ‘’Shut up.’’ You smacked his chest, his laugh rumbling under your palm. 
The sheepishness he sported in the kitchen that day had disappeared, revealing a dirty sense of humor you never expected from him.
You thought you would get a breather, a moment to catch your breath between your last orgasm and the next, but Cregan — insatiable — had other plans. He rolled onto his side, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and began kissing your body with a slow, deliberate intensity. His lips trailed all over your chest, down to your breasts, and then to your stomach, each touch igniting your desires all over again. You arched into his touch, the warmth of his mouth and the gentleness of his caresses melting away any resistance.
Under his tall and broad stature, Cregan Stark was a teddy bear. A Costco sized teddy bear. On the ice, he was known for his strength and leadership, but off it, he was all heart. He was kind, caring, and protective. His caresses were gentle, and his kisses tender and loving. It was impossible to not feel his love.
Speaking of feeling his love, you felt his hardness twitching and poking at your thigh through his tight boxers. You reached down to slip your hand inside, jerking him slowly. In response, Cregan squeezed your hip and let out a low groan.
‘’I need you,’’ you gasped, feeling him suck at the skin under your left breast. 
It was one of your rules: no leaving visible marks that could raise suspicions. 
He gave one last swipe of his tongue over your nipple and peeled off his boxers, his delicious cock springing up immediately. Your pussy was weeping at the sight. 
You spread your legs to accommodate him, offering yourself to him. He teased at your entrance, his movements deliberate as he bumped against your clit, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through you that made you whine. His amused chuckle filled the room, clearly tempted to draw out your anticipation even more, but as you shot him a warning glare, silently urging him to stop teasing. 
Cregan shushed you, rubbing your thigh, and just as he was about to breach your walls, you heard the door of the apartment open and Jace’s voice echoing. 
You froze, eyes widening in panic, and Cregan cursed under his breath, realizing that Jace was back much earlier than expected. ‘’Shit. That’s Jace.’’ 
He called your name again and you quickly slipped on a shirt and got out of bed, answering your brother's calls of your name. You couldn't risk him coming into your bedroom and catching his best friend in your bed in his birthday suit…with with a raging hard-on and your juices all over his beard.  
‘’You’re home early,’’ you pointed out, coming down the hallway. 
You studied him as he grabbed a bag of chips from the pantry, trying to guess his state of inebriety. He seemed barely tipsy. 
‘’Drama at the bar. Ben got into a fight with some guy over a girl — which he did not know was someone's girlfriend — and we all got kicked out,’’ Jace explained, rummaging through the bag of chips and taking a handful to pop into his mouth before leaning against the counter. 
You shook your head with a sigh. ‘’Typical Ben. He really needs to stop going after girls that are taken. Has he not learned his lesson?''
Your brother laughed, taking more chips. “Whose shirt is that?” he asked, his eyes narrowing as he glanced down at the large shirt you were wearing, then back up at you.
You followed his gaze and saw that you had grabbed Cregan’s tee shirt instead of your sleep shirt…
‘’Dad’s,’’ you blurted out quickly.
Jace frowned, not remembering your dad ever wearing that shirt, but let it go. ‘’What were you up to? I thought you would invite the girls over.''
‘’Eh, no. I...I was having fun by myself,'' you stammered, clenching your thighs and hoping your face was not too flushed. 
It wasn't entirely a lie, but it wasn’t true either. You were having fun, just not by yourself. 
His face twisted in disgust. ‘’Ew, that’s gross! I did not need to know about that.''
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°  
Unlike Ben, Cregan wasn’t the type to get into fights — especially on the ice. He thought it was stupid and pointless, a quick way to end up injured or benched for a few games. As the father figure of the team, he was usually the one stepping in to break up the scuffles, keeping cooler heads prevailing. But sometimes, no matter how careful you are, you get caught in the crossfire and take a punch that wasn’t meant for you.
You shot up from your seat immediately, your heart sinking to your stomach as Jason Lannister’s gloveless fist accidently connected to Cregan’s face. It was aimed at Ben — unsurprisingly —, who had played a foul, unnoticed by the referee, and got his brother Tyland in the penalty box.
Chaos erupted on the ice. The referees were shouting and blowing their whistle, trying to break up the fight. Seeing Ben implicated, Cregan had rushed over, taking it on himself to pull him back, but that's when Jason punched him. 
More players skated over, helping the referees. One grabbed Jason, and another went for Ben. He was lean but feisty, a scrappy fighter who never backed down. He shot a taunting grin at his opponent and spat blood on the ice, right at his feet. Jason tried to free himself, but the closest referee put his hand on his chest, shaking his head. Enough.
Cregan turned to Ben and wiped the blood off his nose, glaring at darkly.  
You didn’t see him until Sunday afternoon. You were coming back from the laundry room, arms full with a basket of freshly cleaned clothes, and forgot how to breathe when you saw Cregan sitting on the couch across from Jace. He was wearing gray sweatpants and a hoodie, and his pretty face was decorated with a bruise close to his nose. 
Your feet froze, unable to take another step. You wanted to fucking punch Jason Lannister.
‘’Hey, you’re back,’’ Jace noticed, turning his head towards you.
You nodded, trying to regain your composure. ‘’Yeah. I was doing laundry,’’ you explained, lifting the basket slightly as if to prove your point.
‘’Can you do mine next time? I’ll pay you ten dollars,’’ Jace offered with a grin.
You scoffed, shaking your head. What did he take you for, a housemaid? ‘’Ten dollars to wash your dirty underwear and smelly socks? Never.’’ 
‘’Fifteen,’’ he countered, still hopeful. ‘’My clothes smell better when you do it. It’s like when Mom used to do it.’’
‘’That’s because I use fabric softener,’’ you replied, rolling your eyes.
Jace frowned, clearly puzzled. ‘’What’s that?’’ 
Before you could explain it to him, his phone beeped with a notification. He paused the game and checked his screen. ‘’Food is here. I’ll go get it,’’ he said to Cregan.
The taller one nodded, waiting for Jace to be out the door to glance at you. Without saying anything, you set the basket of clothes down on the beanbag chair that had seen better days and went straight to Cregan, cupping his face gently. His eyes softened at your touch, seeing your look of concern. He reached up with one hand to lightly hold onto your wrist as you examined the bruise on his face.
Cregan gave you a soft smile. He could see that you were worried about him. ‘’I’m fine,’’ he said, yet you couldn’t help but notice a hint of stiffness in his expression. ‘’I’m fine. I promise.’’ He kissed the inside of your hand. 
‘’I’ll fetch you some ice.’’ 
He tried to protest, saying that it wasn’t necessary, but you were resolute. You hadn't been able to take care of him after the game, so you’ll do it now. 
You put some ice cubes that you used for your iced coffees in a plastic bag and brought it to the living room, gently pressing it to the bruise. ‘’Here.’’ 
Cregan winced at the cold, his face sensitive. ‘’Thanks, love.’’ He reached out and put a hand on your hip, tugging you closer, but retracted it as the door opened and Jace returned with the food. 
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・° 
During the course of your relationship, you found yourself in a lot of risky situations, but letting Cregan sleep over was playing with fire. 
You didn't mean to. It was an accident. 
The two of you were watching a movie in your bed while Jace was on a date with Baela, and he fell asleep forty minutes in. You should have woken him when your phone showed close to 11pm, but you didn't have the heart to. You locked your door, turned off your laptop and cuddled against him. 
When you woke up to pee at 1am, you saw that your brother was back and was asleep on the couch with his phone in his hand, the TV playing some older kids cartoons and his leg off the couch. Jace was a light sleeper, it would be too risky to sneak Cregan out.
Morning came and you woke up alone. A sad pout graced your lips. It was your first time spending the night together and you didn’t even get to have morning cuddles or hear his sleepy voice. 
You grabbed your phone, checking if he left any messages, but there was nothing. Just a text from your mom asking if you were coming home for your dad’s birthday this coming weekend. You rolled over, breathing in the sheets where Cregan slept in last night, and left her on read and got up. 
Your morning coffee was calling your name.
Running a hand through your hair, you walked down the hallway, looking forward to that first sip of coffee, and grinned when you found Cregan in the small kitchen, standing in his tight boxers and a tee shirt and drinking black coffee from a Disney mug. It looked Polly Pocket sized in his hands. 
You wrapped your arms around him from the back, your body flush against his. You pressed your face into his back, and the warmth of your body against his made his shoulders relax. 
He smiled to himself, covering your hands with his free one. ‘’Good morning,’’ he said in a groggy voice.
‘’I thought you had left. What of Jace? If my brother sees you in your underwear in his kitchen he’s gonna flip.’’ 
Cregan set his coffee down and turned, his gaze soft as his eyes met yours. The bruise on his face had significantly faded, barely there. ‘’He’s not here. I heard him leave.’’ 
His strong arms wrapped around your waist, drawing you close, and you let yourself relax against him. The warmth of his body seeped through his tee shirt, and you could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest. Cregan's hand slowly traced down your back, his fingers rubbing gentle circles at the base of your spine.  
‘’Don’t you have classes?’’ you asked, glancing up at him with a small smile.
He hummed softly. ‘’Not until later. My 10am class got canceled. I thought I’d hit the gym instead...but there’s no rush.’’
‘’I’ve gotta leave in one hour,’’ you sighed, wishing you could linger in this moment longer.
Cregan’s grip tightened slightly, as if to keep you close for as long as he could. ‘’I can drop you off,’’ he offered. ‘’That way we’ll have more time together.’’
You nodded, pressing a kiss over Cregan’s sternum in thanks. ‘’I’ll make us breakfast...in five minutes.’’ 
To ruin the moment, you heard the loud buzz and a voice coming from the intercom. 
‘’Are you up? Please be awake. I tried texting you and calling but you didn’t respond so I’m taking a chance here.’’ Jace called your name again, louder. 
You groaned in annoyance and went to the door to press the intercom button. ‘’What do you want?’’ 
‘’Yes! You’re awake! Eh, I left my laptop on the counter, and I also forgot my keys...’’
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・° 
When Jace left for college, your parents didn’t see the use of getting a car when everything was close to campus and within walking distance. What they didn’t think through would be the possibility of the bus riding home being full and not being able to make it for your dad’s birthday. 
Jace: Pack your bag. We’re leaving at 4pm. I already told Mom
You: You found us bus tickets? 
Jace: No. I found a ✨chauffeur✨
You: Please tell me it’s not some random person you found on a co-driving forum. I don’t want to spend two hours in some creep’s car 💀
Jace: He’s not
You should have known it would be him. 
Jace called shotgun, forcing you to take the backseat. You didn’t mind. In fact, you preferred it. If you had sat at the front, you were scared your hand would have slipped and revealed your relationship. Or that Jace would have noticed the familiarity between you. You were supposed to be his best friend’s little sister, not someone he knew like the palm of his hand.
Although it was only two hours, the drive felt never-ending. Your back ached from sitting in class all day and your stomach was impatient to be filled with your mother’s cooking. Every now and then, Cregan would sneak glances at you through the rearview mirror, and each time you couldn’t hide your smile. Your brother didn’t see, too busy on his phone or switching the music. 
This weekend was looking to be long and difficult. 
Your mom was more than happy to have another guest over. Cregan was as polite and charming, easily winning her heart when he complimented her infamous lasagna and asked for a second serving. 
''Of course! Help yourself,'' Rhaenyra said, smiling warmly. She glanced between Cregan and Jace, who both emptied their plates quickly. ''It's like they don't feed you at college.'' 
''I live in a dorm,'' Cregan explained in defense. ''It's hard to cook when the only appliances allowed are a mini fridge and a coffee pot.''
Your mother turned to Jace with raised eyebrows, clearly waiting for his excuse. ''And you? What do you have to say for yourself?'' 
Jace grinned sheepishly, swallowing his last bite. ''Can I take the leftover back to college?'' 
At the head of the table, your father let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head.  
When you were seven, you used to sneak out of your bedroom at night to eat a bowl of cereal. It took your parents several months to figure it out. At eighteen, you were sneaking to join your boyfriend in the guest room. 
You waited for everyone to be fast asleep, and avoided the creaking floorboards in the hallway. It was dark inside as you closed and locked the door behind, but you made it to the bed without stubbing your toe on any furniture. 
Cregan stirred when you pulled the covers and slipped in, feeling your cold feet on his calves. ''What are you doing?'' he asked, half-asleep and eyes still closed. He didn't need to see you to know it was you. He simply knew. 
You said nothing and cuddled against him, sighing happily when he reciprocated. 
Morning came faster, the early rays of sun peeking through the curtains. You cursed at yourself, having once again slept longer than planned. You checked both sides of the hallway, and once you deemed it safe, you exited. What you didn’t see was Luke leaving the bathroom, his hair unruly and barely awake. 
‘’I…’’ you stammered, not knowing what to say. 
He was fifteen, you could not trick him like Joffrey. He knew what you were doing in the guest bedroom. 
So you bolted to your own, praying he would keep his tongue.
‘’Luke knows,’’ you blurted out as you descended the stairs for breakfast, the weight of the confession lingering in the air.
Downstairs, your mother had gone all out, setting up a massive brunch spread — eggs, bacon, hashbrowns, and even pancakes. Grandfather Lyonel would be coming over...along with your uncle Larys. The thought of him made your stomach twist; you had never been at ease in his presence, but he was your father’s half-brother, and that meant you had to force a smile and be nice. 
Cregan furrowed his brows, concern creeping across his face. ''How?''
You quickly recounted the incident, watching as Cregan ran a hand through his dark hair, his expression growing tense. ‘’You think he’s gonna tell Jace?'' he asked, his voice dropping. ''Or worse...your dad? We got along well last night, but when he’ll find out—’’
‘’My dad is not the one we need to worry about,'' you interrupted softly, trying to ease his anxiety. ''Sure, he’s protective of us, and he might look like the kind of guy who could knock someone out with one punch, but he’d never do that to someone I care about. Not unless he had a damn good reason.''
As you reached the bottom of the stairs, Joffrey got down from his chair and dashed over to you, his small face lighting up with excitement. ‘’Mommy made pancakes!’’ he announced, his big brown eyes practically glowing. ‘’There’s blueberry ones, your favorites.’’ He grabbed both your hand and Cregan's, tugging insistently, messing up your plan to arrive separately.
At the table, Luke was talking — bragging — to grandfather Lyonel about school while Jace was helping your mom bring all the food to the table. And of course, Uncle Larys was just sitting there, observing everything with his usual quiet, unsettling presence.
At Joffrey’s urging, Cregan took a seat next to him. The little one had taken a strong liking to the hockey player, and you couldn’t help but hope that this budding friendship might work in your favor when it would all blow up. 
‘’Careful, it's hot!'' Rhaenyra called out, entering with a plate full of bacon. ''Jace, can you bring the orange juice? Oh, and a small fork for Joffrey?'' 
You interrupted Luke and made your way to Grandfather Lyonel, wrapping him in a warm hug like you always did. ‘’Where’s Dad?’’ you asked, noticing his absence.
The burly man looked around for his son, not knowing either. 
‘’I'm here, I'm here,'' Harwin’s familiar voice rang out from the sliding door as he entered, carrying a bowl of freshly picked strawberries. On top of his head was a handmade birthday crown, obviously crafted by Joffrey. ‘’Your mother forgot the strawberries. I had to fetch some from the garden.'' 
You grinned, stepping up to greet him. ‘’Happy birthday, Dad,’’ you said, kissing his cheek as you wrapped him in a hug. 
Everyone sat around the table, and began filling their plates with food. 
You mostly took blueberry pancakes, and some fruits from the garden. You had a sweet tooth this morning. From the corner of your eyes, you could see Joffrey talking a mile a minute between bites of pancakes and bacon. Cregan was trying his best to listen to your little brother — what he could make out of his words, anyway — but his attention was completely focused on you.
Two seats down from you, Luke was watching. You could feel his gaze on Cregan, and there was an unsettling tension beneath the surface. He knew something. He could let it slip at any moment and throw the whole breakfast into chaos. But, for now, he stayed silent.
‘’So,’’ Grandfather Lyonel began casually as he sipped his coffee, ‘’how's your first year of college treating you? Found yourself a boyfriend yet?''
The word 'boyfriend' had your bite of pancakes catching in your throat. Grabbing your coffee, you took a long gulp to wash it down, buying yourself a moment.
You shook your head, managing a calm smile. ‘’Not really. I’m keeping my focus on my academics,’’ you replied, briefly raising your eyes at Cregan, who was focussing on eating the content in his plate. The last time he had a home-made breakfast was with you. 
You thought you were being discreet, but your grandfather noticed the short glance, as did your father who was right next to you. 
Joffrey, oblivious to the tension, piped up, ‘’Jace has a girlfriend. Her name is Bella.’’
‘’Baela,’’ Jace corrected with a fond smile, shaking his head at the enthusiastic six-year-old.
Grandfather Lyonel smiled, happy for his grandson. ‘’That’s a lovely name.’’ He then turned to Cregan. ‘’And you, Cregan? Got a girlfriend? A handsome, well-mannered lad like you cannot be single.’’ 
Before he could answer, Joffrey piped up with the bluntness only a child could muster. ‘’I think you should date my sister,’’ he declared.  
Jace’s head shot up, eyes wide. 
Before him, Cregan chuckled uncomfortably, clutching his fork. ‘’Why is that, little one?’’
‘’Because you look at her like papa looks at mommy.’’ He said it so pure and innocently, yet it was true. 
The silence that followed was so loud it didn’t take long for Jace to connect the dots. The truth hung in the air, undeniable and clear. Cregan shifted awkwardly in his seat, and you felt your heart pound in your chest.
Jace glanced between you and the one he called his best friend. His nostrils were flared, shock and outrage painted across his face.  ‘’How long has this been going on?’’ His brown eyes glared daggers at Cregan, waiting for an answer. ‘’How long have you been keeping this from me?’’
‘’Jace,’’ your father’s voice cut through the tension, firm but gentle, an attempt to stop the situation from spiraling any further.
But Jace wasn’t listening, angry at his friend’s betrayal. ‘’How can you betray me like that? I would have expected it from Robb or Theon, not from you. You pride yourself to be loyal and honorable, but where is your loyalty in this? Where is the honor in disregarding my one and only rule?’’  
He was allowed to be upset that you and Cregan spent the last two months seeing each other behind his back. It’s a reaction that was expected. But you hated that he was painting his best friend as the villain. Cregan never used you, it was never his intention. He knew what he was risking when he kissed you back that rainy afternoon in his car. Yet, he couldn’t ignore his feelings — and neither could you. 
‘’How can you make this all about you?’’ you asked, shaking your head in disbelief. ‘’Can’t you see past your own selfish feelings that maybe Cregan does love me for me and not just to piss you off? This is exactly why we didn’t tell you anything.’’ You gestured around the room.
Cregan, who had remained silent until now, took a deep breath before speaking, his voice calm but firm. ‘’You know I don’t play around with girls. I would never use your sister the way you think I am. Come on, Jace. You know me.’’ There was a pause, allowing Jace to absorb his words, then he continued. ‘’I’m truly sorry for keeping this from you, but can you blame me? Put yourself in our shoes. You think I wanted to sneak around and lie to everyone about the girl I love? It might look cool in movies, but it’s not in real life. It’s just stress and pain.’’  
The room was so quiet you could almost hear a pin drop. No one dared speaking around the table. It was only silent glances. 
What a way to ruin your father’s birthday…
A few hours later, you found yourself sitting outside, your heart heavy. The house had grown quiet after the earlier commotion, the celebratory mood from the family gathering long gone. Grandfather Lyonel and uncle Larys had left. The former had apologized for starting the conflict, but you told him it was not his fault. It was bound to happen anyway. 
You apologized to your father — and mother — for ruining his birthday. It was his turn to shake his head and pull you in his arms. 
The air had gotten colder as it neared sundown, but you didn’t want to go inside. You liked the soft stillness of the open air. It was a calming contrast to the fight from this morning.
The drive back to college was going to be tense tomorrow. You already dreaded it. 
Unbeknownst to you, Jace was watching you through the glass of the sliding doors. He stood there for a moment, observing you and Cregan sitting quietly together on the patio furniture. Your head was leaned on his shoulder, curled up at his side, and his left arm wrapped around you. He recognized the Wolves hoodie on your back, Cregan’s number and name on it. 
It wasn't until he saw Cregan kiss the top of your head and the soft smile that instantly bloomed on your face that Jace realized that maybe Cregan was good for you.
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nemjun · 2 years ago
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read that beel character analysis post yesterday and haven't stopped thinking about obey me since
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moonlit-imagines · 4 months ago
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Headcanons for being Johnny Lawrence’s daughter
Johnny Lawrence x daughter!reader
warnings: alcohol, underage drinking, classic johnny sexism <3
a/n: WHAT! ME write a fic thats not gn, i know. im shocked too but its just bc i feel johnny is so gender-stereotypey that doing this gn wouldn’t work very well but very open to a son!r or nb!r if anyone is interested (bc seriously. johnny cannot help but bring up genders). also i just want to say that a lot of this (not all!) honestly reminds me of or are actual things that have happened w my dad bc johnny is literally my dad if my dad was like 8 years older i think also i wrote this all in one sitting ALSO NO COBRA KAI SEASON 6 SPOILERS
prompt:
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GIRL DAD!
you always kinda just gravitated toward living with your dad
“y/n, i’m so proud of you. i never have to worry about you. you can take care of yourself. robby on the other hand, i worry about him. i think girls are just more self sufficient” -johnny, a little drunk
“thanks dad” -you, also a little drunk (hes a “cool dad”)
he was the type of parent that “prefers that if you’re gonna do something stupid at least do it while he’s around” aka underage drinking
whenever he stays out late you fall asleep in his bed. and lock him out
“y/n! open the door!” -johnny, banging on the door
“no! your bed is more comfortable” -you
he thought it was sweet honestly but he did want to sleep in his bed
sort of like a lesson not to come home late all drunk and gross
he was VERY against letting you drive his car
“dad, i need my license!” -you
“no woman is getting behind the wheel of my firebird” -johnny
“why do you have to make it about women? i’ll fight you” -you
“you’ll lose that fight” -johnny
“oh, so you’d fight a teenage girl? wow, real classy, dad” -you
“no, but i’d fight my teenage daughter. i brought you into this world and i’ll take you out” -johnny
you honestly had a great sense of humor with johnny, but you’d check him if he said anything too messed up
“dad, it’s not the 80’s anymore, you can’t say that” -you
“dont tell me what i can and cant say! the 80’s were awesome, i wish it was the 80’s again” -johnny
“so i’ve heard” -you
he helped you with your homework as a kid until like, 2nd grade when multiplication and division got involved
he did teach you karate growing up! but mostly the basics, for self defense purposes
“hey, never let any guy try to impress you with his karate skills. he’s probably a douche” -johnny, pausing “i sure was”
late night movie marathons (70s/80s classics for sure)
he took care of you during your first hangover (high school parties, ya know)
“didn’t i teach you better than to mix liquors” -johnny
“ugghhhh” -you
yes, you have heard about daniel larusso. enough said LMAO
robby and you had a kind of sweet but distant relationship
occasional check-in texts
robby: are you doing okay with dad? he’s actually buying food and shit?
you: yeah! he’s fine right now, how’s mom? new stepdad yet? is he rich?
robby: mom’s not going anywhere she’d find a rich guy, but keep dreaming
you wear a lot of your dad’s old t-shirts. usually band tee’s
oh and he made sure you got into the “right music”
he used to drive you around in the firebird when you were a SMALL CHILD (front seat, no car seat!) and blast his old cassettes
for YEARS he’d pull the “who is this” “what song is this” game with the reasoning:
“if you wear a band shirt and some asshole asks you to name three songs, i want you to name ten” -johnny
listen. you were still “daddy’s girl” or whatever used to be a cute little saying and is now ruined but whatever
“dad, can i have twenty bucks?” -you
“for what” -johnny
“for fun. pleaseeee” -you
*johnny pulls out his wallet and gives you $40*
could he afford it? no. can he say no? also no.
the absolute fear he felt when you got your first period
“it’s fine, i can call mom” -you
“no, it’s not fine! i’ve had girlfriends before, i got this. stay here, i’ll be back” -johnny
he went to the store and bought the most random assortment of period products and pain meds and snacks and a heating pad
A for effort
when the diaz family moved in across from you guys, miguel took one look at you and johnny said:
“stay away from my daughter”
when the karate fuss got started you tried to keep your distance but sooner or later you joined the dojo and proved to your dad just how “badass” you could be
“take notes everyone, y/n’s gonna be the next all valley champ!” -johnny
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blueberrymocha · 5 months ago
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texting them
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gon
✰ he didn’t grow up with much technology
✰ and he def did not have a phone
✰ so since he isn’t in the habit of using it often, your messages are all on delivered
✰ he also prefers to live in the moment instead of checking his phone all the time
✰ unfortunately for you that means you’re better off calling the person he’s with if you need to reach him
✰ once you talk to him about it though, he’ll be sure to answer within a couple hours
✰ he’d save your contact as a pet name, personally i can see him using “sunshine” or “honey” for you
✰ you’d be pictureless until killua points it out to gon and explains that you can add pictures to someone’s contact
✰ but once he does learn he’ll use a cute coupley picture of you guys from one of your first dates
✰ would have trouble deciphering your abbreviations
“btw ur gna be back asap right?”
“huh.”
✰ its fine, he prefers to call (loves to hear your voice) anyways
killua
✰ y’all would be so mischievous together
✰ prank calls as a weekly ritual
✰ you’re mostly safe from them but don’t think he’ll never do it to you
✰ probably won’t text you first but always responds within the minute
✰ would only call if he’s checking up on you, like when you’re sick or he’s on an adventure
✰ will use the most abysmal, disrespectful picture he has of you
✰ your name on his phone is either an inside joke or an insult like “sleeping ugly 🧚‍♀️” (he’s out for blood omg you overslept once)
✰ i just know alluka is confused af
✰ he’ll change it to something else whenever you see it, which you will eventually
“y/n can you check my phone?”
“sure! babe why is my name ‘dumbass’ heart emoji, wizard emoji?”
kurapika
✰ you can see this one from a mile away…
✰ his phone always got that silent mode + dnd + texts muted combo
✰ he does all that but would fully expect you to pick up if he called you
✰ speaking of which, he would call probably daily if either of you were away
✰ never forgets an “i love you” “be safe” “see you soon” etc
✰ if something happened, would want you to know that
✰ you guys would fall asleep on calls
✰ but mostly him
✰ your contact might just be your name for a while
✰ but i could also see him using something tame like “love” or “sweetheart”
✰ hes also the type to leave you on read
✰ especially if you’re asking when he’ll be back or how his mission is going
✰ generally just keeps his work separate from home unless he needs to vent or it’s extremely relevant to you
leorio
✰ wishes he could talk more often
✰ school just keeps him really busy
✰ will be upfront with you if he needs time to study, make dinner, or anything of that nature
✰ you’d get in the habit of leaving voicemails
✰ he listens to them all and leaves some for you too
✰ also good morning and good night texts, always
✰ your picture is whatever picture of you he finds the hottest tbh
✰ your name would be a pet name such as “shorty” or “beautiful”
✰ idk why but i feel like he’d misplace his phone often
✰ so if he doesn’t respond by the end of the day, you’ll probably get a call from his roommate’s phone saying how he lost his own
hisoka
✰ lets it ring out and then calls back a minute later
✰ “oh did you need something?”
✰ this man can’t stop playing games, the call cuts off halfway through what you’re saying
✰ then he calls back again acting like it was the wi-fi
✰ don’t worry——that’s only like a quarter of the time
✰ depending on his mood, he’ll be mostly serious
✰ imagine the look on his face when he realizes you’re calling because you’re in the hospital or smth
✰ yeah so he’s better at responding now!
✰ your contact picture is gonna be from the most stalker angle
✰ like it’s just you sleeping
✰ you found that a little odd but maybe your clown just wants to capture those memories
✰ …while you’re walking home on the opposite sidewalk
✰ if you’re in a longer, serious relationship, your name is something romantic like “my dove” but it’ll take a while to get there
illumi
✰ you’d be so surprised to find that he loves to call
✰ he travels a lot as an assassin, so he needs something to do
✰ would always text you formally it’s scary
“have you arrived at the manor yet, y/n? be sure to notify me immediately once you do.”
✰ he’s giving you customer service type responses
✰ you’ll also get updates about his missions
“i’ve just finished killing the target, expect to see me home in four days”
✰ the contact is just your name and if you convince him, he’ll add a picture of your choice
chrollo
✰ has like six phones
✰ if you didn’t know he was the leader of a gang you might‘ve thought he was cheating
✰ you also have the numbers of most of the spiders
✰ so if he ever has to disappear (like after yorknew) they’ll be sure to let you know what’s going on
✰ he’ll text you a few times a day if he’s able to
✰ would ask about your day and remind you to take care of yourself
✰ the conversations usually focus on you, while he listens or prompts you
✰ like kurapika, doesn’t want to involve you in troupe business so it’s very rare for him to even mention them
✰ he doubts you even want to hear about how he robbed an old man today, or killed a woman who didn’t hand over a jewel
✰ on his top secret personal phone, he’ll give you a contact photo with both of you in it
✰ your name would be a classy pet name, maybe “princess” or “beloved”
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polarisjisung · 7 months ago
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PETNAMES NCT DREAM WOULD USE
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pairings: nct dream x fem!reader
genre: fluff
wc: 0.7k
warnings: hopefully none
notes: this is a little shorter than usual but if you couldn't tell already I'm a sucker for petnames (if you think they're cringy you're just painfully single 😤) so I HAD to make this
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MARK — my girl/babe
now mark's a chill laid back guy, and he loves you like crazy but he also doesn't see any need in extravagant nicknames or petnames and he sticks to the classics, he probably won't address you by your name for the most part so he'll just stick to babe. sweet and simple
"that's my girl" is such a classic mark thing, he gets proud over the smallest things you do, he's like your personal cheerleader. It could be something so small as flipping an egg without breaking the yolk and mark would be ecstatic.
RENJUN — darling
nicknames are serious business for renjun, every now and then he'll call you babe but to him it feels too casual— most likely it'll be something very specific to your relationship and how you met but if not he loves darling, it feels the most endearing to him.
JENO — baby/angel/gorgeous
for the most part jeno will stick to baby, sometimes babe but in his softest moments he'll go for angel— it's unconscious really.
but to jeno you're the best thing that's ever happened to him, like his own personal angel— somehow you always know what to do/say when he's feeling down and he's never met someone like that before. you're unique and somehow everything you do feels perfect to jeno, he thinks your soul is so pure, you're his angel.
on occasion jeno will throw a quick but calculated "good morning gorgeous" your way— mainly because it has you absolutely falling apart to the point where you can't even form coherent sentences, but jeno thinks it's cute
HAECHAN — sunshine/sunflower/honey
you bring out the best in him, you're his motivation and you give him so much energy for performances and his idol life, especially when things get tough so calling you his sunshine just feels right to haechan.
haechan probably throws around a lot of nicknames with you, sometimes some a little too weird, but he knows it'll get you smiling
"hey snookums" he'd say casually as he enters the room
"are you talking to me hyuck?"
he'd nod eagerly and you can't help but giggle at his dorky smile
"I love you but please, never call me that again" best believe he'll stick to that nickname for the rest of the week
and of course every time he steps through the door, haechan has to announce "honey, I'm home" like hes in some american sitcom, as if you didn't see him pull up in the drive and hear his keys jingle as he unlocked the door— you love him either way
JAEMIN — princess/pretty
sure jaemin thinks he's a princess but you? you're like the princess of all princesses. plus jaemin feels the need to remind you of your worth day in and day out— you're a princess and so you deserve to be treated like one, given jaemin's practically a king at princess treatment, you'd consider it appropriate
jaemin thinks you're pretty no doubt. in some moments, especially when you don't quite share the same opinion, jaemin will be the first one to remind you, and if you're feeling down "hey pretty look at me" he'd say in that soft low tone of his that's so awfully comforting, with two hands on your shoulder before giving you the pep talk of a lifetime
CHENLE — babe/baby
chenle's not much of a petnames guy aside from a casual babe/baby here and there but you suppose that's what makes it all the more special when he does use them
he much prefers to have a nickname for you that's exclusive to him than using petnames, but if its something you're into he'll definitely try and step up his game, also if he gets teased by his members for calling you by your name
a jealous chenle uses all the petnames under the sun— anything to make it clear you're his girl
JISUNG — (my) love/beautiful
jisung is usually soft spoken but too shy to throw around "I love/like you's" without becoming a blushing mess so his favourite way to subtly remind you just how much you mean to him are through petnames. he truly thinks you're beautiful inside and out, so it's one of the first names he addresses you with.
he likes to switch it up, testing and seeing which ones your smile grows the widest at. he decides love feels right. after all, you were the person who taught him all about it.
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froggibus · 4 months ago
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Roadtrip - Overwatch Boys
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Includes: Cassidy, Genji, Hanzo, Baptiste, Lucio & Mauga
Genre: fluff, some crack lol
Summary: take a summer roadtrip with your favorite OW man
CW: irresponsible/reckless driving, cops (Cassidy's), drinking (not while driving I promise), Genji slander, camping, very fun summer vibes w this one
This is part of my Summer Suntacular event, come check it out!
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Cassidy:
definitely takes you through the midwest somewhere
insists on driving the whole way but its ok cause he has an insane sense of direction
like knows every road and shortcut like the back of his hand
tries to pretend like he doesn’t like your music but ends up singing along
loves stopping in old local diners
at least once the owner of a bar recognizes him and reminds him that he’s banned for life
and somehow he ends up talking the owner into letting you guys stay??
only drinks black coffee and pretends like he enjoys it
you forced him to try an overly sweet 6$ coffee one time and now he insists on stopping for one in every town
pretends to obey traffic laws but speeds whenever you’re on a backroad
a cop tries to pull him over and suddenly he turns into Max Verstappen and is offroading through a random field to lose them
“what the fuck is happening”
“I’m winnin’.”
you guys get takeout and eat it on the tailgate of his truck
stops at any bar that advertises live music 
will sing all the words all dorky to you and try to get you to dance with him
wants to stay on the road with you forever
Genji:
do not let this man drive he can’t drive for shit
wants to go somewhere neither of you have been before, but doesn’t really have a solid plan
matcha lattes at EVERY stop
you camp rather than stay in a hotel cause he never got to as a kid
like he’s never even tried a s’more or had a campfire before
chooses the most beautiful campsites ever with pretty beaches
neither of you can figure out how to set up the tent so you end up piling the blankets and pillows in your car and sleeping in the trunk
it’s surprisingly cozy though
also he totally winds up cuddling you for warmth
takes SO MANY pictures 
insists on using a paper map because he wants a more “authentic” feel 
results in you guys getting lost in the woods at least once
picks up handcrafted flavoured marshmallows at literally every gas station you stop at so he can make different kinds of s'mores
some of the flavours get wild too—like maple bacon or banana split
weirdly good at roadtrip games
brings his Switch or something so he can play Pokemon while you drive + names the ones he catches after the models of nearby cars
you end up staying on the trip way longer than intended because you guys have so much fun
Hanzo:
has a meticulously planned schedule of where you’ll visit and when
wants to take you through the Japanese countryside, maybe stop at a beach or two
very careful driver 
has a Nissan Versa that he babies and refuses to let you eat inside of (though if you bat your eyes at him enough, he’ll give in)
brings a polaroid camera so he can take pictures of all the beautiful sites
keeps the polaroids in a little folder tucked into the glovebox
refuses to get fast food and insists on stopping at cute local cafes
has packed for literally every possible occasion in only one tiny bag
you ask him to stop so you can buy something weird and obscure and he just so happens to have it
“I really wish I had Shrek 2 on DVD right now”
“check the glovebox”
???
has a soft spot for roadside fruit stands and had to stop at every single one to buy stuff 
the whole trunk is filled with fruit. there’s no escape
lets you play whatever music you like and will have your favourite songs memorized by the end of the trip
prefers experiences to souvenirs, but if you buy him a keychain or something he’ll treasure it forever
Baptiste:
annoyingly slow driver
everyone is passing you guys
has a pretty solid plan of where he wants to go but he’s open to feedback
has an immaculate sense for choosing the best local restaurants
always wants to try the most niche food combos he can find—like deep fried milk
needs to have his water bottle, an energy drink and a fun drink or else he can’t drive
wears sunscreen in the car and stops every few hours to reapply
cringes at your driving no matter how you drive and definitely gives you at least one (1) lecture about the dangers of speeding
loves tourist traps and wants to stop at every one you pass
insists on getting those dorky commemorative t-shirts from said tourist attractions so that the two of you can match
loves salt water taffy and looks for fun weird flavours wherever you find them
his entire centre console ends up being FULL of them by the end of the trip
he has the ac in the car on full blast to the point you’re shivering
not big on taking pictures but loves videos—he has about a thousand of the two of you trying new fun drinks and snacks
it’s been so long since he was able to be on the road without worrying about Talon—and he never wants to go back
Lucio:
nobody is more fun than him on a road trip
has a super fun car that he’s souped up and decorated to hell
the car has window tint so dark that you can’t see into it
does not obey traffic laws. you’re getting so many tickets, im sorry
buys those window markers so the two of you can draw on them when you’re bored
chooses the music and probably has a thirty hour long meticulously curated playlist
car singalongs all day
drinks so many energy drinks you’re surprised his heart still works
wants to stop in every single town to try their local specialties 
doesn’t really have a solid plan or anything, just wants to hit the road and see where you end up
wears increasingly goofy disguises when going out in public
“omg is that Lucio?”
“where?”
gets dragged into performing at least one impromptu concert somewhere
takes turns driving with you so the other can rest and reads out gossip articles about himself to entertain you
every hotel you stay in is a different gimmick and he goes crazy for it. the sillier the better
posts cute pictures of the two of you on his insta and is always taking candids
wants to make your roadtrip an annual thing
Mauga:
insists on taking his big ass Jeep that he refers to as “Little Betty” and refuses to let anyone else drive ‘her’ 
completely reckless driver too
drives with one hand on the wheel, music way too loud, the windows down even when you’re going like 110
he lets you pick the music as long as its upbeat 
constantly drinking some weird protein shake 
absolutely no plan of where he wants to go, just wants to hit up some nice beaches
has all of your stuff crammed in the back so high that you couldn’t possibly see out of the back window
drives in the sluttiest skimpiest tank top ever 
wants to try all the local cocktails and party in every town you stop in
gets drunk and becomes best friends with everyone he meets
needs to collect a Hawaiian print shirt in every place you stop in to commemorate the occasion
wants more than anything to teach you how to surf
he stops at every beach you pass and BEGS you to try it out
either wants to sleep in a five star hotel or on the beach with no shelter. there is no inbetween
takes one awkward blurry picture of the two of you throughout the entire trip and puts it in his wallet
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Summer Suntacular | Masterlist | Overwatch Masterlist
(if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way! comments, likes & rbs are always greatly appreciated ^-^ !!)
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intynidad · 1 year ago
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YES MAKE A PART 2 OF SHAPESHIFTER
they’ve been living in my head rent free since i read the fic and i’m gonna lose it
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You guys really liked that fic huh
I tried my best at doing smut even though shapeshifter can change all o their body, hope you guys like it!
(I’m planning on making a new part that is more explicit??? But idk if you guys would like that)
Love has many forms pt 2
NSFW
warning: yandere tendencies?? (Not a lot but im gonna say it just in case), mention of female and male genitalia (not towards reader) minors DNI
Some people are like two perfect puzzle pieces, fitting together effortlessly and completing each other's picture. It's a beautiful connection that brings harmony and joy. However, your last relationship was different. You and your partner were more like two corner pieces of the same puzzle, belonging to the same game but unable to fit no matter how hard you tried.
In your current relationship, things were different. While you remained the same little puzzle piece, your partner was like water, flowing and fitting into every nook and cranny around you. Their ability to adapt to every situation and effortlessly surround you was one of the perks of dating a shapeshifter.
Their shapeshifting abilities added a thrilling element of excitement and adventure to your relationship. Witnessing their seamless transformations into different forms and their effortless blending into various environments was truly awe-inspiring. They made it clear since day 1 that they didn't mind changing all of themself to fit your likes. It sounds romantic or even a little comical but the way pure obsession dripped from their eyes made you believe them.
Their abilities were present even in the most intimate moments of your relationship
Sometimes their hands were small and delicate and sometimes where rough and full of scars, both of them made and excellent works on touching your body and having the knowledge that your partner could be anyone you ever dream of aroused you
At first you were shy about asking about using their powers in the bedroom, after all you told them you wanted to love them as they are, but they were their powers and they have told you that they didn't mind…
So the first time you ask them to change into a celebrity you had a crush on, you tried and tried to not moan the celebrity’s name but it slowly fell out of your lips, again they said that you could moan the name of whoever you wanted after all THEY were them in that moment
Then it was a supermodel you thought was hot, after that they even started to experiment with their different forms.
Sometimes they had a pussy dripping from arousement for you, sometimes they had a cock erect and hard ready for you to suck on
Sometimes they made themselves bigger while being inside you just to watch you squirm and your little please of “its too big” “i'm gonna break” just motive them to do it again
Sometimes they had small breast that you could fold with one hand and sometimes they had huge breaths that they loved to let you suck and squish
Your partner was very happy that you ask them about using their powers, after all the more they know about your body the better they can make you moan.
The fact that they just know that even if you break up with them, you will never have his pleasure with anyone else makes them smile, and even if you break up with them they just need to assume a new form for you to fall in love again and again and again.
Now that they know your preferences you won't be able to escape them, but since that wont happen they prefer to continue making you feel good.
The favorite moment was when the watch you ride them, since they started to add texture on their cocks you been cumming faster and faster, they think is adorable how you eager you are bouncing up and down on them, is so cute watching you bite the pillow of your shared home trying to stop yourself from moaning but they know exactly how to make you sing like a little bird for them
And believe me for them you sing like an angel
Their angel
And no one else
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w2sarcher · 7 months ago
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noisy neighbour part two | harry lewis
✩ ✩ ✩
summary: in which y/n owns a coffee shop and harry is her noisy neighbour
word count : 5.7k
part one here
a/n: this is part two of my noisy neighbour series!!! read part one before this <3 there will be more parts to this as its a proper slow burnerrr. sorry for the slow updates i haven't forgotten about this series lol xxx
masterlist <3333
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Y/N had come to the conclusion that life was much better when she didn’t let silly lies get in her way. It had been a week since she had come clean to her noisy neighbour, or Harry, as she now knew him, and life couldn’t get any better. 
After the pair had laughed about her moment of foolishness and how they were both a little too loud for their own good, they were able to move past it all and properly get to know the person they were living next door to. 
Y/N found out more about Harry’s whole ‘Youtuber’ lifestyle. He was part of a group of seven boys that made videos that came out every Sunday, but he also had other channels in which he’d play computer games and do funny reaction videos—the source of all that playful shouting she had heard through the walls. He told her that he’d gotten bored of his old apartment and wanted a change of scenery, so he chose the small-scale but nonetheless nice flat next door to hers. He lived alone and was 27; his favourite colour was blue, and his favourite cake was chocolate. He liked coffee,cycling, surfing, and the occasional beer, and he loved travelling anywhere in the world, near or far; he just loved exploring places. He had two younger siblings, a brother and a sister, and was from a little channel island named Guernsey. Y/N had never been.
She told him all the little details she could think of about herself in return. She was always sort of bad at introductions, cringing when they used to say ‘’Tell us three facts about you’’ in school, never knowing what to say. But she managed nonetheless. She told him all about her dream of having a cafe of her own and how she came to do so. She loved old music, mainly Abba, to which he laughed and told her he knew already, making a playful jab at the singing he had heard from next door. She too lived alone but was 26; her favourite colour was green, and her favourite cake was lemon. She also liked coffee, not so much cycling or surfing, and opted for cider whenever she went to the pub. While she hadn’t been travelling much herself due to paying off her university debts and then starting up her coffee shop, she still shared the desire to travel anywhere in the world—far away from London. 
It was such a breath of fresh air for Y/N. Owning a cafe all on her own meant early mornings and late nights, and her weekends were either spent visiting her parents or nestled away in her flat watching episodes of Vanderpump Rules or trying new recipes for baked goods that she was thinking about selling in the cafe. Because of this, she had found it hard to find time to make friends, and while she had her fair share, she barely saw them; they either had big city jobs or were living outside of London and starting a family. It just felt nice for Y/N to just sit and chat with someone a similar age to her and talk about nonsense for a while. 
While the conversation the pair shared was cut short by Harry needing to get to work and record a podcast, they shared numbers (only in case one of them got a parcel for the other, of course), and Harry said he’d pop back in soon to finish where they left off. 
So that was it. It had been a week, and she hadn’t seen him since, but that was all she could think about. It wasn’t even like Y/N had a crush, or so she convinced herself, but she longed to talk to him again; it just felt nice. While the occasional old lady that came into the cafe was great to chat with, asking away about how her day was going or what their plans were for the day, she still preferred the little chat she had with Harry; it just felt different, and she couldn’t put her finger on why. 
But then she got all in her own head. Maybe he didn’t come back in because he realised she was a bit weird, having lied about living next door and that he was only being friendly and entertaining the conversation, but in reality, he didn’t want to be talking to her at all. Y/N knew she was probably getting a bit ahead of herself, but she couldn’t help but think the worst. She had always been a bit of a pessimist. 
It was now Monday again, and the cafe had just begun to die down after the lunch rush. After cleaning tables and putting cups and saucers back in place, Y/N finally felt like she had it all under control. There was no one in the shop, and looking at the time, the clock read 1:00 p.m., a perfect chance for Y/N to have her lunch break. She had scoffed a croissant earlier that morning and topped herself up with flat whites throughout the day, but now she was starving. She walked over to the door, flipping the ‘open’ sign to ‘close’ and walked back behind the counter to prepare herself something nice to eat. 
She wasn’t long into making a ham and cheese toastie when she heard three loud knocks on the glass door. Usually she’d shout ‘’We’re closed’’ and continue what she was doing, but another three knocks followed, and she thought she’d just let them in and eat her sandwich another time. 
As she turned around, she saw a hooded figure standing outside the door—it was lashing rain in London today (shocker) —but she could barely make their face out through the raindrops on the door. Nearing closer, she realised it was Harry. After a week, he’d returned. Maybe her pessimism wasn’t always right.  
Letting him in, she moved back as he took his coat off, the black puffer soaked from the awful weather. 
''Hello, you,’’ he smiled, lifting the hood of his jumper from his head. ‘’Didn’t realise you closed this early.’’
‘’Hiya,’’ she smiled back. ‘’Just closed for lunch, that’s all.’’
Furrowing his brows, he replied, ''U-Oh, right, I can come back later if you’re busy.’’
She laughed, taking his coat from him to hang it up on the coat stand next to the door. ‘’Don’t be silly. I’m only having a toastie, nothing special.’’
‘’Lovely stuff,’’ he said, clapping his hands together and following her towards the counter.
‘’How’ve you been?’’ she asked. ‘’Horrible weather today, isn’t it?’’ Classic brit filling empty silence with talks of the weather.
‘’I know, proper pain in the arse,’’ he laughed. ‘’Been good, though. Just back from a holiday with the boys, but so typical, I’ve come back to the shittest weather possible.’’
''Ooh, lucky you,’’ Y/N smiled as she resumed the making of her lunch. ‘’Go anywhere nice?’’
‘’Went to the Maldives for two days for a video,’’ he said nonchalantly, ‘’was a good laugh though.’’
‘’Wow, that must've been unreal.’’ she gasped, placing her sandwich on a small green plate before looking back at him. ‘’Can I get you anything to eat? I feel like a knob if I’m sat scoffing my face and I’ve not made you anything.’’
Harry smiled, watching as the girl moved her plaited hair so that it was out of her face. He thought she was quite pretty with her hair tied back, freckled cheeks, and a peach-coloured blusher on her face. She was wearing her same old green apron, but instead of the jumper she had on the last time he saw her, she had a striped long-sleeve top paired with black jeans. Yeah, she was really quite pretty, he thought. 
‘’No, I’m fine, thanks. I got a meal deal in the airport earlier,’’ he paused. ‘’And I’m trying to keep off the cakes, but they do look bloody brilliant today.’’
Y/N laughed, ''Well, you’re in the wrong place if you’re trying to keep off the sweet stuff. I got cakes coming out of my ears in this place.’’
The conversation felt easy for Y/N. It was almost weird to think about their first few conversations, stiff and awkward, thinking the other was a bit rude and not really interested in making small talk. But now, it felt like they could talk for ages; the initial uneasiness was now a distant memory. 
‘’So what brings you here?’’ she started. ‘’Surprised you’re not straight to bed after that long flight.’’
They sat down at a little table in front of the counter, Y/N enjoying her lunch and Harry watching, fumbling with his fingers. 
''Oh, trust me, I’m knackered.’’ he laughed. ‘’But I thought I’d pop in. Remember, I said I would last time, finish where we left off, and all.’’
Course Y/N was remembered. It had been all she thought about for the last seven days. 
‘’Oh right, yeah’’ she said between mouthfuls of her sandwich. ‘’Well,tell me all about this Maldives trip then.’’
✩ ✩ ✩
A few days had passed since Y/N and Harry’s last encounter. And that was all she could think about.
After leaving her cafe to go back to his flat, the pair shared a few jokey text messages: Harry sending her random pictures he’d taken on his holiday and Y/N sharing snaps of new baked goods that she’d made, with him responding with a classic ‘Save me one.’ It was nothing serious, but it was nice to have playful conversations away from her busy working day and Harry’s video shoots. 
Despite only a small proximity separating the pair, Y/N longed for the next time she might bump into him, almost hoping that a parcel would get delivered to the wrong address to give her some reason to knock on his door or that he’d finally succumb to his sweet tooth and trod down the stairs to try whatever fresh baked treats she had to offer. 
It made her laugh that only a few weeks ago she’d dreaded the thought of seeing him and hated the thought of having to make small talk with him, but now it was all she’d thought of. And don’t get her wrong, she was no romanticist or anything of that sort but when she found something she liked or in this case, a person she liked talking to, it was hard for her to take her mind away from them. 
Another day had come to an end for Y/N. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air as she wiped down the last table in her cosy little shop. It had been a long day for her, filled with the hustle and bustle of customers coming in and out. She felt swept off her feet trying to make sure everything ran smoothly and made a mental note that maybe it was time to hire some help.
Now, as the clock struck closing time, Y/N couldn’t wait to retreat to the comfort of her upstairs flat. Locking up the cafe, she made her way up the narrow staircase and into her home. The familiar creak of the stairs under her feet echoed in the empty hallway—a comforting sound that signalled the end of another day’s work. 
As she reached the door, she let out a contented sigh—peace at last. Turning the key in the lock, she pushed open the door and stepped into her sanctuary.
The soft glow of string lights greeted her, casting a warm and inviting atmosphere through the room. She’d forgotten to turn them off the night before and was surprised the batteries had lasted the day. Kicking off her shoes, she padded across the hardwood floor to her living area, where a plush green sofa beckoned her to sink into its comforting embrace.
Her days always went the same after work. She’d come upstairs, sit down on the sofa, and stick some random television show on for some background noise, needing to just sit for a moment after being on her feet all day. The stress of the day always melted away as she allowed herself to just be in the moment, relishing the peace and quiet of her own space. 
Next to the sofa, a stack of books awaited her attention. She had been reading some Dolly Alderton novel that a friend had recommended, and so far she was loving it. There was nothing quite like getting lost in the pages of a good book; all she needed now was a nice cup of tea, and she’d be in heaven. 
It’d felt like hours had passed as Y/N finally got to the end of another chapter. The gentle hum of the TV in the background continued as Y/N settled down the book and turned her attention to her phone, wondering if she had any new messages from a certain someone. And lo and behold, she did. 
Clicking the message open, she saw a picture that Harry had taken from what she assumed to be his living room. Her view was similar, just at a different angle—the Shoreditch’s streets looking equally as ‘London’-esque from both their windows. He had added a little message to the bottom of it: ‘This weather is mental. Think it calls for tea and some cake.’ Y/N hadn’t seen the message with her phone on ‘Do not disturb’ and her eyes well focused on the piece of fiction she was reading, and he had sent it over twenty minutes ago, but she assumed he was still next door, not wanting to dare step out in the treacherous rain. 
She wondered if he was hinting at her to send him a text and offer some cakes from downstairs. Or maybe even invite him over to try the pastries she’d sent him a picture of only a few days ago. Of course, Y/N didn’t really know if he was hinting at anything, but she really hoped he was. The time on her phone showed it was just past 7:00 p.m., and having eaten a small lunch earlier in the day, she too was in the mood for some cake and tea, not really bothered by the thought of cooking dinner and having to wash up loads of pots and pans in the kitchen.
She lifted herself up from the comfy sofa and into her kitchen space, opening the fridge to see if she had any nice delights to cure her craving. There sat a small blue tupperware, inside two vanilla cupcakes, left over from the day, perfect. Two. Perfect. 
Whether he had been hinting or not, Y/N took the tupperware in hand and stuffed her feet into her fluffy slippers. Unlocking her door and making her way down the stairs towards his door, she felt giddy. She thought it was a nice gesture to turn up with a little treat that he had longed for, and she hoped maybe the two could share a nice chat over a cup of tea as they looked out on the London rain. It’d be nice.
As she got to the door, she lifted her hand up, ready to press the buzzer to his blue door, but as she did, she heard the faint strains of music drifting through the air, accompanied by a girl’s laughter. Her hand froze, and a wave of disappointment washed over her. Doubt crept into Y/N’s mind, and she couldn’t bring herself to interrupt whatever moment Harry was sharing with another.
With a heavy sigh, Y/N turned on her heel and retreated back up the stairs to her flat. She knew she was being silly, but she felt a sting in her heart, and she couldn’t shake the image of Harry’s front door from her mind. 
Back in her kitchen. Y/N set the cupcakes on the counter; her appetite for something sweet was now long gone. She wondered if she had misinterpreted Harry’s kindness and their conversations as something more. Sure, the two had shared a few playful texts, updates throughout the day, and random pictures, but that was the extent of it so far. Y/N felt like an idiot. 
She never did respond to Harry’s text that night.
✩ ✩ ✩
Another few days passed, and Y/N had finally gotten over her little strop. Well…sort of. She didn’t have much to go on other than the fact that she’d heard a woman’s voice and lots of laughter, which she knew didn’t necessarily mean Harry had a girlfriend, but she'd rather nip her feelings in the bud than wonder about the what-ifs that could of been had he opened the door. Plus, Y/N felt a bit silly. He’d never given an indication that their chats were anything more than friendly, and the texts they shared weren’t suggestive in any way—I mean, you could probably send your mother the same things. So she knew it was better to cut her little strop short before she got herself all tangled up in her feelings.
She’d had another long week in the cafe, busy with big orders and endless amounts of coffee, and she knew it was definitely time she put out an advertisement for a job vacancy. But that was a job for another day as she was currently getting ready to go out with a few friends in a pub just near Old Street. It had been a while since she’d found the time to meet up with people (with their big city jobs and her never ending hustle in the cafe) and considering she’d given Harry radio silence for the past few days, this was the most socialising she’d done outside of the occasional old lady in the cafe. So, Y/N was buzzing. She reached for her favourite pair of Adidas Sambas, their sleek black design accentuating her style. The leather was very worn despite carrying many stories of past adventures. Y/N made a mental note that she’d get a new pair out of her next paycheck. Her outfit was bold yet chic, a lot different from her usual jeans, t-shirt, and green apron combo. A leopard print midi skirt is paired with a black fitted crop top and a leather jacket over her shoulders to give the outfit unmistakable flair. She always enjoyed dressing up, even if it was just for a quick pint—it just gave her something to do and was a nice change from her usual get-up. 
With a flick of her wrist, she grabbed her essentials—a phone, cardholder, and keys—and headed out the door. It wasn’t raining in London for once, with spring slowly creeping in, so Y/N didn’t bother with an umbrella, deciding her jacket was enough protection from whatever the weather had in mind. It felt nice as she walked along the busy Shoreditch streets with the city lights beckoning, couples holding hands, groups of friends laughing—it made her heart squeeze, and she felt like the night was promising her excitement and all sorts of possibilities.
/
The pub night was everything Y/N had hoped it would be. It had been a welcome contrast of warmth and laughter, and seeing her friends, who usually worked nine to five, was a breath of fresh air. With flushed cheeks from all the lively conversations and talks of fond memories, not to mention the five pints of fruity cider she had drank, Y/N left the pub with the cheesiest grin on her face. A few kisses to the cheek and warm hugs later, Y/N waved goodbye to her group of mates and headed back towards the Old Street roundabout. 
The city seemed quieter now; most of its energy was subdued despite it only being 10:00 p.m. Walking around familiar streets, she felt a sense of comfort in solitude but wished she hadn’t forgotten her airpods because there’d be nothing better than a peaceful stroll accompanied by her favourite indie music playlist in the back. 
The pub was only about a ten-minute walk from her flat, so it didn’t take too long, and Y/N felt herself subconsciously speed walking as the cold London air got to her, now regretting her choice of jacket. As she neared closer to her doorstep, she could see a hooded figure placed on it, a backpack in front of them, and a phone in their hand as they scrolled aimlessly. Her eyes felt a bit hazy from the cider, and she approached apprehensively, her mind wandering to the possibilities of it being a crazy ex-boyfriend or a drunken friend hoping to rest their heads for the night. But as she moved closer, her anxiousness eased. It was only her neighbour. Harry. Harry, who she’d given the cold shoulder to for the past few days.
His friendly face looked up at the sound of her approaching footsteps. A slightly flustered expression on his face. 
‘’Hi Harry,’’ she smiled. ‘’You alright?’’
Getting up from his crouched position, he moved aside, letting her stand in front of her own door. ''Oh, you life saver, been waiting ages.’’
She looked up at him, a glow on her face, not too sure if it was caused by the pints or his general presence. ‘’What for?’’
‘’I’ve been a right numpty and locked myself out.’’ he laughed. 
‘’Oh shit,’’ she laughed back, buzzing from alcohol. Y/N was a lightweight by definition; the smell of alcohol could probably get her drunk, and at this moment she felt buzzed.
‘’I know, pain the arse,’’ Harry said, pinching in between his eyes. ‘’Can’t even try to get a key cut because everywhere’s shut.’’
‘’You got any friends that’ll let you crash for the night?’’ Y/N asked, feeling genuine concern for the poor boy sitting outside their doors. She hadn’t even asked how long he’d been there—it could have been hours. 
‘’Tried a few but got no response,’’ Harry sighed, "I guess no one wants a rogue sleepover at 10 at night.’’
‘’Good friends you’ve got,’’ she teased, confidence of drink taking over her. 
‘’Oh shush you,’’ he playfully said back. 
A small silence fell over the toy as Y/N fumbled around in her bag to find her keys, the street light giving her enough of a torch to be able to find them. Every time she drank, she’d experience a small panic that she’d managed to lose all of her belongings, but luckily for her, everything seemed intact. 
‘’So what are you going to do?’’ Y/N said as she went to put her key in the lock.
Harry paused for a moment. While the two had shared the occasional message and nice chat over coffee, he felt a bit bold with what he was about to ask. Not being the most social person, he had weighed out the options of whether or not it would be awkward if she'd say yes to his question—he'd more than likely have to sit chatting for a while and then maybe have an uncomfortable sleep on whatever sofa or bed she’d have to offer—but at the same time, he reminded himself that it was only Y/N and whatever awkwardness could have come between them had well and truly been dissolved by their initial meeting. And truthfully, Harry was all for saying outlandish things and asking rogue questions, so if she did say no, he’d just take it on the chin and find somewhere else to go. 
‘’I hate to ask,’’ he paused sheepishly. ‘’I really do. But by any chance, I could come in for a bit, or at least till one of my friends picks up their phone and lets me stay around theirs.’’
‘’You hate to ask?’’ Y/N smirked, cocking her head to one side. ‘’Am I really that insufferable?’’
Harry’s eyes widened at her words. ''N-no, no, not at all. It’s just that I thought, ’’
‘’Stop your blubbering for a moment,’’ she laughed. ‘’It’s fine, really.’’
‘’You sure?’’ he smiled. ‘’Don’t have to say yes, 'coz you feel sorry for me.’’
And yes, Y/N did feel a bit sorry for the blubbering boy sitting in front of their adjacent doors. She couldn’t imagine anything worse than being locked out of her own flat and left out in the cold in London with nowhere else to go—it was a frustrating inconvenience to say the least. Plus, Y/N was always a bit of a generous soul, never really able to say no to people, always biting her tongue when she felt awkward, and with a few pints combined, she was feeling especially generous. 
‘’Honestly, no bother.’’ she replied, unlocking her door. ‘’I’ll probably be awake for the next few hours anyway, so companies are good.’’ An absolute lie on Y/N’s part. Any drink would usually send Y/N into a tired haze, and she couldn’t think of anything better than sticking on her pyjamas and curling up in bed, but it’d have to be put on hold for the night. 
Following her up the stairs and into her living area, Harry let his eyes analyse the room. Fairy lights adorned nearly every wall, blankets crowded on the sofa, a few plants dotted around the room, and an endless amount of cookbooks—while Harry didn’t know too much about Y/N, he could still recognise that her little flat was an exact replica of her as a person. 
‘’Nice place,’’ he said, placing his backpack down on the wooden floor. 
‘’Cheers,’’ she smiled, ‘’similar to yours?’’
‘’Similar size, but mines full of cardboard boxes at the moment,’’ he laughed, ‘’yours has a lot more life to it.’’
‘’Took a good few IKEA trips to get it this perfect, I won’t lie.’’ Since walking in, Y/N had dropped her bag by the door, walking into the kitchen space to find some snacks or atleast a drink to give to her unexpected guest. 
‘’You want a cider?’’ she asked, rummaging through the fridge to find a can of Strawberry Old Mout that she had left over from the last time she had a guest in her flat. She couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous as she looked around the brightly lit fridge - it felt weird having Harry in her flat. Different somehow, more intimate than their casual chats down in the cafe or over text. But especially after her little moment of weakness the other day and the fact that he more than likely had a girlfriend, she pushed those thoughts aside and focused on being the good host she was. 
"You know what- I’ll take one," he replied,thinking nothing sounded better than a cold cider after his shambles of an evening. ‘’Only if you’re drinking too - don’t wanna start getting leathered on my own,’’
‘’As if you’d get leathered off of one cider,’’ Y/N laughed, passing him a can and cracking open her own, ‘’Plus I’m 5 ciders deep already so think it’ll be me getting leathered, not you.’’
Harry shared a laugh with her, holding his hands up in defeat, ‘’Alright, you piss head. You just been necking ciders on London streets then or what?’’
‘’Oh shut up,’’ if she had been closer to him, Y/N probably would of swatted him on the arm for the absolute nonsense that left his mouth but the kitchen counter separated the two, so she kept her arms to her side, ‘’I was just out in the pub.’’
‘’So that’s what the mysterious Y/N gets up to when she’s not running a cafe,’’ he said, raising his eyebrows as if he’d uncovered some maddening truth about her.
‘’Mysterious?’’ she snorted back regrettably but she couldn’t help it and plus after a few drinks, her snorted laugh always seemed to appear.
‘’Well ye-yeah, mysterious.’’ he paused, taking another big gulp of his drink and Y/N wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d managed to finish it by now. ‘’Haven’t heard from you in a few days and then you come swanning in after a few pints, I’d say that’s pretty mysterious.’’
‘’God, you talk some shit,’’ she said, laughing at his use of words. 
‘’S’true though, haven’t heard from you.’’ 
‘’I haven’t heard from you either?’’ 
‘’You liar! I texted you the other night and got no reply,’’ Harry said, clutching at his heart in a playful manner, ‘’really hurt my feelings.’’
‘’You’re such a windup,’’ she grinned, ‘’Didn’t take you as the type to be hung up over no replies,’’
‘’Broke my heart really. I was waiting for you to reply and say you had a cake and a chat waiting for me but got nothing.’
So maybe Y/N hadn’t taken his hints wrongly. 
‘’And then my sister turned up and I couldn’t even come round and pester you for a slice of lemon cake,’’ he continued, ‘’my plan went out the window,’’ His sister! Y/N mentally scolded herself in her head for being so silly that night and thinking the worst.
‘’Your plan?’’ she challenged.
‘’Yeah, my plan to butter you up and then steal every last slice of cake you had going for you.’’ he joked. 
What an idiot, Y/N thought. But a funny idiot, nonetheless. ‘Ah, well, you should have told me your sister was round and I would have been more than happy to share something with her - sure, she would have been better company than you anyways,’’ she joked, in return. She couldn’t tell if it was the ciders making her head feel dizzy or nonchalant playfulness, but she felt giddy and confident. 
‘’No one likes a liar, Y/N.’’ he beamed, ‘’We both know that’s a massive lie.’’
‘’Hmm maybe.’’ 
‘’So, pub, did you say?’’ he questioned, ‘’W-was it a date or?’’
‘’Think I go to the pub on a first date?’’ she said, raising her brow in amusement. 
‘’Nothing wrong with a pint and a bag of crisps for the first date.’’ he defended.
‘’It’s that where you take all your unlucky ladies then?’’
‘’Ha! Unlucky. It’d be the luckiest night of their lives,’’
‘’Oh I bet,’’ Y/N laughed, ‘’But no, just a few drinks with some of my friends. Nothing mad.’’
‘’Very cool.’’ Harry grinned. 
‘’Shut-up,’’ Y/N grinned back in return.
The two fell into a silence, each other not really knowing what to say. Y/N could feel the lull of the alcohol weaning off and she knew she’d be drifting off if she stayed up any longer. She didn’t want to come across rude, enjoying his company but her bed was calling her name and she needed to call it a night knowing she had to be up in  the morning to sort out admin for the cafe. 
‘’I think I might head to bed, I’m feeling knackered.’’ Y/N sighed.
‘’Leaving me all alone, one cider deep?’’ Harry laughed.
‘’Sorry but I don’t think I can keep my eyes open for any longer,’’ A giggle uttering from her lips, ‘’You’re more than welcome to stay on the sofa thought until you get your keys sorted and all.’’
‘’You’re a star, Y/N.’’ Harry smiled in return as he made his way to the couch to make himself comfortable for the night. He couldn’t have been more grateful for her in the moment, thinking back to not so long ago when he was out in the cold, locked outside of his flat. Course, they’d made familiar with each other the past few weeks but he couldn’t get over the kindness of the girl - or pity that she had for him - but either way he was thankful nonetheless. 
‘’There’s a few blankets on the side and some cushions so it shouldn’t be too uncomfortable,’’ Y/N paused, walking over the basket of random throws and cushions she had by the corner of her living room, signalling him to choose his pickings. ‘’Right, I’ll see you in the morning. Night Harry.’’
‘’Night, Y/N. Thanks again.’’ And that was the last thing he saw, her gleaming smile, cheeks red from alcohol as she walked down the hall to the last room that he knew now was her bedroom and headed to bed. 
/
Y/N woke up with a pounding headache the next morning followed by a dry mouth and a queasy stomach. She hadn’t even drank much but in her defense she rarely ever did so any alcoholic beverage would always send her sideways the next day. Blinking against the harsh sunlight streaming through her window, she groaned, regretting the cheap ciders of the previous night. Her memory was a bit hazy, blurred by the fog of alcohol but she did remember one thing. There was a Harry on her sofa. 
Dragging herself out of bed, she quickly sorted herself out, combing through her hair and fixing her pyjamas, not wanting to look an absolute state in front of the boy. She stumbled to the kitchen, head throbbing with every step, desperate for a glass of water. But as she walked into her living space, he was nowhere to be found. Surely she hadn’t been so drunk she had imagined the whole night. 
She could remember everything from the loud music of the pub, the dancing and laughs she shared with her friends. And she most definitely remembered the blue eyed boy that was sat outside her front door, locked out from his home.  
She did a quick check of her phone to see if she had any texts from Harry but the only notifications were a few Instagram tags from her mates and a text from her mum asking what she thought of the banana loaf she had made. Nothing from Harry. 
Walking around the kitchen to grab a glass for her water, she noticed out of the corner of her eye the little notepad she had on her kitchen counter was opened, a few words scribbled on it and a black biro pen next to it. 
On the note read ‘Thank you for letting me stay last night, you’re an angel. I had to leave early this morning to meet the landlord for a spare key but I really do owe you. Let me know when you’re free, I’m thinking of dinner on me? Thank you again, Harry x’ 
With a little smile on her lips as her fingers traced over his messy handwriting, she felt a sigh of relief. Dinner on him, it was and she couldn’t wait.
-
a/n: thank you for reading. sorry for the wait!!! there defo won't be a long wait for part three. this is such a slow burn but promise it gets more cutesy in part three <333
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tsukimara · 7 months ago
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hii! Can i request a death the kid × fem!reader please? I would love for it to be like one of them is really sleepy and the other cuddles with them to help them sleep? And reader is also really touch-deprived!
(I would also really like if the cuddling position was like hugging the other at the waist while laying down and like the other person is playing with the other's hair?) BUT ITS YOUR CHOICE
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જ⁀➴ Sleepy cuddles
✰ Pairing: Death The Kid x fem!Touch-deprived!reader
✰ Summary: Reader is sleepy so Kid helps her fall asleep.
✰ Warning: None!
✰ Of course dear! I suspect you guys like DTK very VERY much (We love him 🫶) I'M SORRY IF THIS IS TOO SHORT.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
I heard another tired yawn next to me and of course it was my girlfriend who was studying instead of sleeping at night. Staying up late was actually a habit of hers that constantly worried me. Whether it was studying, playing games or other things, she did it all late. I have to change it somehow, luckily she stayed overnight because Patty literally dragged her here. [Name] had her head resting on her hand, slightly dozing off as Liz painted her nails and Patty did her hair.
"Whaaa Liz! You painted her nails beautifully!!" Patty exclaimed as she looked at [Name] nails which were black with white stars and a skull. "Right? And you too-" Liz looked at how messy Patty had made her hair, she had clips and tied hair everywhere. She was too sleepy to say anything so she let Patty continue. I didn't want her to be tortured like that so I got up from the chair and walked over to girls.
"Guys, I think [Name] should go to sleep now." Patty started to pout a little because she hadn't finished doing [Name]'s hair, but Liz placed her hand over her mouth, silencing her. "Come on Patty, let's go, lovers here prefer to be left alone." Liz quickly ran out with Patty before I said anything. Suddenly I felt someone hug me from behind and wrap their arms around me, causing a little pink to appear on my cheeks, knowing it was [Name]. I turned carefully to face her, she still had that terribly unsymmetrical hairstyle, so I took it all out of her hair while she just hugged me, burying her face in the crook of my neck. I was more used to the fact that she was so touchy, which didn't bother me at all. It was a cute sight.
"Let's go put you to bed. You look like Sid-sensei." She just said a quiet "hey" as she stopped hugging me and took my hand to walk towards my room.
We entered my clean room and climbed into my bed together. Luckily we had already changed earlier so we didn't have to worry about that now. [Name] immediately moved towards me and hugged me, putting her head on my chest and she wrapped her arms around my waist. I smiled, placing one hand on her back and the other hand on her head, stroking her hair to help her fall asleep faster.
"Goodnight sleepyhead." I kissed her head and closed my eyes to fall asleep with her.
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➥ Soul Eater Masterlist ➥ Masterlist
➥ Rules request
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mapofthemazeinthemirror · 5 months ago
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𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬
Noble reader x Prince beomgyu
author's note: This isn't very fleshed out because it's not something that I had planned on writing — there’s a lot of telling not showing — and I have other things that I want to work on that this idea interrupted! I also kept a lot of details vague to allow readers to imagine your own interests. I hope this doesn't read like it was rushed (it took me about a month) and that I caught all the errors. This is inspired by Violet aka @blackhairedjjun and her fic Flowers of Every Colour. Her persona of Prince Yeonjun and vivid scenes live in my mind and I recommend you read it if you haven't yet!
word count: 6k
The prince often feels overwhelmed. Sometimes it seems as if everyone in the castle is looking for him at all times. Officials come to find him during his lessons, upsetting his tutors. His tutors come searching for him when council runs late and cuts into lesson time. No matter where he is or what duty he’s busy with, he receives notes from staff or delegates. He feels as though he’s in a constant game of tug-of-war, with his attention being the thing that’s fought over.
After a long lesson that had been rescheduled to a late evening hour to allow time for an urgent discussion with his advisors in the afternoon, Beomgyu could feel a headache coming on. As he departed from the study where tutoring was held, he felt heavy with exhaustion, a pressure pain behind his eyelids. He was so on edge that his head whipped toward every creak of the old floors, every distant sound of a door opening or closing, anxious that it was somebody seeking him out for yet another task that only he could see to or decision only he could approve. He just needed a minute – one minute at least – to himself. Every waking hour was spent in the presence of others, so much filling his days that his mind played it all back as he lay in bed at night trying to chase some much needed rest. Since becoming his parents’ consort, it felt as though he hardly had time to hear his own thoughts.
There was one place he knew nobody would look for him. Wearily he carried himself across the long open hall, past the top of the grand marble staircase he usually took to his rooms. He felt a little paranoid with the way he kept glancing around and over his shoulder as if he might be attacked at any moment by a “there you are, your highness.” If his father saw him now, he’d be scolded for looking like a thief in his own castle.
On reaching his destination, he breathed a sigh of relief. The library was quite large, with wall to wall mahogany shelves, beautifully covered atlases and historical volumes as far as the eye could see. Unlike the rest of the castle with its overbearing chandeliers, the library was lit with the soft glow of sconces. Finding a desk tucked away in a corner, Beomgyu sank into a chair. This was an area of the castle he hadn’t visited more than a handful of times, and never of his own will. He hadn’t been keen on reading growing up as his older female cousins had, always requiring a book to occupy them during the duration of their stay when they visited. The young prince had always preferred to spend his time outside whenever he could, and he'd found the silence of the library was stifling. It was bliss to him now. He only wished the buzzing of noise in his head would stop if he soaked in the silence long enough.
The place was empty, nobody to protest his posture as he leant his elbows on the hardwood desk and pressed his face into his hands. Closing his eyes, he willed his mind to quiet. He focused on his breathing. In, out. In, out. In…
It was no use. His head was still swimming with facts from his lesson. With things he had to remember for tomorrow’s conference and the names of politicians he’d met yesterday, their faces all blurred together in his mind. With his advisors calling for him, the head of house calling for him, everything needing his deliberation–
He dropped his head onto his arm on the desk. Even the silence couldn’t help him, it seemed. Was this to be his life? A mind full of endless chatter?
Beomgyu’s tired eyes wandered over the spines of the books he could see on the far wall. Their rich colours, greens and reds, whites and browns, many with delicate gold foiling of titles he couldn’t make out. His eyes traced up the aged ladder leaning against the shelves, the one he was always given a telling off by his chaperone for playing on whenever he was dragged up here. The corner of his mouth turned up at the thought of those simpler days. His cousins had married and had children, far too busy to visit except for special occasions – usually only those of a ceremonial nature. The last time he’d seen them, the children hadn’t remembered him at all, it had been so long.
Sighing unconsciously, his gaze drifted to the decorated ceiling, not even making the effort of lifting his head from his arm. The elegant painting that adorned the library ceiling had been done with a skilled hand. Beomgyu couldn’t even begin to imagine how many hours something so beautiful and detailed would have taken. It was a dazzling scene of the night sky, with clouds and stars that seemed to swirl around each other in a silent dance. He could see every fine stroke that had gone into creating the layering hues that made up the deep night sky, that brought texture to the clouds and made them look as though a gentle breeze could move them, and stars that seemed so meticulously placed. He’d never looked so attentively at the art before, but he found a new appreciation for the work as he discovered his thoughts had grown quiet. Maybe this was why people spent so much money on paintings, he pondered, before his eyes drooped to a close.
The prince had almost completely dozed off when a soft gasp pulled him from the edge of sleep. Eyes blinking open, he realized that he’d gotten far too comfortable. He felt slightly groggy as he lifted his head from his arm, which had gone dead with the weight, and wondered at how long he’d been sitting there. Thumbing at his lip, he found a wet spot had begun to grow at the corner.
“I’m sorry,” came a voice, the source of the gasp that had brought him back. Would he have spent the entire night here if he’d not been woken? His dazed eyes looked up and found you, shrouded in dim light. He caught sight of recognition dawning on your face before you dipped into a respectful bow.
“I’m so sorry, your highness, I didn’t mean to disturb you,” you said hurriedly, as if the words couldn’t get out fast enough. Did you think he was going to scold you for being here at the same time he was? “I was just leaving…”
Fighting off the lingering drowsiness, Beomgyu waved a hand, feeling sheepish at being caught in this position. “Please, there’s no need.”
You seemed to relax a little at that; the way your shoulders lowered as if you'd been tensed didn’t go unnoticed by the prince’s eyes. He had become skilled in recognizing stress, whether it was because he grew up in a somewhat high-stakes environment or he was sensitive to it now as a stressed adult himself, he was unsure. The book you were cradling in one arm caught his attention now that you weren’t clutching it so tight. Beomgyu didn’t recognize you, and he knew everyone who worked in the castle. It bewildered him a bit that you knew him but he didn’t know you, despite that being the case with almost every person he met. Suddenly he felt a touch embarrassed. Not only had you caught him in an unmannerly state, but he didn’t know your name, and he couldn't think of a single thing to say.
“I really was leaving,” you caught him out again by speaking first. Your eyes met for a long silent moment, and Beomgyu thought the silence had never been less stifling. Then you seemed to remember yourself, eyes dropping to the book in your arms. “I just need to put this back.”
Beomgyu stared at the back cover of that book as if it could help him, too occupied with scrambling inside his head for something to say to notice the way you nervously brushed the hair away from your face and stole shy glances at him.
“What is it?” he blurted. Internally he cursed himself for the way it sounded. He’d only wanted to say something before you walked away. There was an overwhelming feeling he couldn’t name. A longing for you to stay. A feeling of stupidity for not being his usual collected self.
As someone with an official title, meeting new people was always planned, always with a purpose, an end goal. He knew each time what was expected and required of him; how to act, questions to ask and answers to give. This was the first time he could remember meeting someone by accident, and it didn’t seem to Beomgyu that he was very good at it. Taking a breath, he attempted to reign in his panic and try again. “What are you reading?”
You had to look down and check. Turning it over in your hands, you revealed the cover to him with a shy smile. With just one glimpse at the title, Beomgyu knew it would be of no use to him in trying to make conversation. It was a topic he knew nothing about.
“Oh,” he said aloud. He hadn’t meant to. Hoping you hadn’t heard the disappointment in his voice, he rushed to cover himself. “Is it… good?”
Your small laugh surprised him. The sound of it lessened the knots in his stomach, even as he wondered if he had made a fool of himself.
“It’s useful,” you answered, looking him in the eye again. He tried to concentrate as you spoke, to hold on to the words and not get too distracted by your smile or your eyes. “I’m doing research for a scholarship and only the royal library has the books I need. That’s why I’m here,”
“The scholarship?” Beomgyu’s eyes had gone wide. “The scholarship that only one person is picked for every five years?”
Your eyes lowered as you began to blush. “Yes, that one.”
“Wow,” Beomgyu subconsciously sank into his chair in awe. “Your family must be very proud.”
You laughed once more, unaware of how the prince’s eyes lit up each time you did. “Well, I haven't got it yet.”
His mouth caught your contagious smile. “But to even be considered is a great accomplishment.”
Your eyes were the ones to light up this time. Clutching the book close to your chest again, you leaned forward, your fingers curling over the back of the empty chair in front of you. “This is the most impressive library I’ve ever seen.”
Beomgyu sat up taller in his chair. “It is, isn’t it?” He couldn’t help the proud grin that took over his face as he looked around.
“When I come here I lose track of time,” you went on. You were unmistakably animated with enthusiasm, and he was completely taken with you. “The first day I came here, I lost a whole two hours just reading all the spines. Even the ones that aren’t required reading.” Lowering your voice as if to share a secret, you confided, “If I lived here I’d probably never leave the library!”
Beomgyu suddenly felt guilty. He’d never thought about the knowledge that could only be found in this library, and that very few were permitted to the books that contained it.
“If only I had the time to read for pleasure here,” you went on.
“Well, why don't you take some home to read?"
"I'm not permitted to take books out of the library," you said sadly, your attention on the book in your hand as your finger traced the spine.
Beomgyu thought back to the summers he'd shared with his cousins; days he'd spent running around the courtyard in the sunshine while they lazed under a tree with their noses between book pages. "I am," he supplied. His voice came out surprisingly excited. "I could read them for you."
You looked around at him as he stood up from his chair. "Read them for me?"
The prince felt as though his smile was plastered on now. He couldn't hide it if he tried. "I could read them and tell you about them."
He felt your eyes go warm, glowing on him like the sun as you brought out your own smile. "I'm sure you have more important things to do, your highness."
Beomgyu shrugged.
***
That was the reason that Beomgyu started his days by going to the library. He read while he ate his breakfast, which luckily didn't have a set time to be finished by, as it took him a little longer to eat this way. He found himself getting so engrossed in the book that he would forget to eat at the same time, averaging a mouthful to every three paragraphs, his meal cold by the time he finished it.
Then he would read in his room at night. He found that it was an effective way to turn off the noise in his head left over from the day, helping him to sleep better. Many times he would nod off in his chair before waking up and getting into bed. He would take notes sometimes, to better remember the things he wanted to tell you about.
He looked forward to the closing of the day. Once his schedule was complete and it was almost time for dinner, he would slip up to the library in hopes of catching you and relaying all the things he'd read about so far. Excitedly and enthusiastically he'd tell you interesting facts and historical stories from his current book. He had much more energy at the end of the day than he'd had before now that he was sleeping better.
The library had become a sort of safe haven to him now. His tutors complimented his new interest in his learning during lessons, retaining and remembering with a sudden ease, and many of the staff had noted that he had become a lot less tense. The serving staff who saw him with his face behind a book each morning were amused, often surprised as he rattled off facts to them as they laid out and cleared away his breakfast. None of them knew the reason.
On his rare day of rest, he came to find you straight after lunch. He'd confirmed you'd be in the castle today the last time he'd seen you, and he'd been so excited last night that it had taken more than just one hour of reading to send him off to sleep. The day was sunny, and with some persuading Beomgyu convinced you to take a small break from your studies to sit in the garden. You were a little anxious about being caught taking advantage of your privilege to be at the palace by being seen with the prince, but he assured you that he would take care of it.
Deep in the garden, the two of you wandered up the stone path that divided the lawns, chatting casually. The gardens were magnificent. You'd only seen them from a window in the castle, but the further you walked the more beauty there was to see that couldn't be viewed from a distance. The path led to a beautiful paved area with a grand gazebo. Beomgyu ushered you to sit on the ornate bench, forgoing the custom that he should be the one to sit first and taking a seat once you had. Your heart was pounding despite the relief you felt that you'd not run into any trouble on your way out of the castle, and you were sure you felt it leap each time Beomgyu laughed.
He had produced a book when you looked back from admiring the scenery, from somewhere you could not determine. Your face lit up as you took in the familiar cover; it was the one book in the royal library that you'd longed to read most. Beomgyu beamed at your excited reaction as he held it out for your taking. You had to fight the urge to glance around and make sure that nobody was seeing as you took it from his hands.
You read it aloud, with Beomgyu listening intently to every word. In the back of your mind, you wondered how you ended up in this position. When you'd started coming to the castle to study, you had never imagined you'd catch sight of the prince let alone talk to him, and yet you had been in his presence more than anyone else inside the palace. Now, as you read, you took every opportunity to look from the page up at him, finding his eyes on you, his undivided and eager attention completely yours. You were quite comfortable being at his side by now, but sometimes when he looked at you, you could feel the prickling of heat beneath the surface of your cheeks.
You hadn’t thought he would follow through on his offer, but each time you saw him enter the library it made your whole day complete. Truth be told, it had begun to take your mind off studying a little. One moment you’d be reading about a lost dynasty, and the next you’d realise you had stopped taking in any information and your mind had turned to Beomgyu. It also happened that you would dawdle while reshelving the books you’d been studying, delaying your leaving in case the prince showed up, which he always did.
Time seemed to fall away around you as you read. Minutes were marked by each turn of a page and seconds by the now steady beat of your heart, until you were so enthralled by the text that you could have almost forgotten the scene you were truly in.
Beomgyu chuckled lightly and you paused your reading. Your eyes readjusted to the glow of sunlight on the backdrop of bright white flowers beyond the gazebo as you took in his smiling face once more.“You’re really enjoying this one.” His eyes flicked down to the page where you were marking the place you’d stopped with your finger. “You haven’t looked up for the last five pages.”
“I’m sorry,” you couldn’t help but laugh too. You felt almost giddishly content in this moment; in a breathtaking garden with a good book and someone you felt was becoming dear to you.
“No, it’s wonderful,” he assured you. “Is it as good as you imagined?”
“No,” you answered in one breath. “It’s better.” Beomgyu beamed, and it made you feel so warm you might’ve been sitting directly in the sun and not under the shade. But just then, a sudden cloud passed through your mind. “I’ll be sitting the scholarship exam soon.”
Looking out over the garden, you couldn’t help but feel sad as you thought of how much more you would miss your visits to the palace now that you had fond memories and someone you could call a friend here.
“Are you nervous?”
You shook your head softly. It wasn’t the answer to his question. He hadn’t caught your meaning. “My studies will be finished then.”
The prince’s eyes brightened even more. “Then you can read whatever you like, whenever you like.”
“Yes,” you agreed distractedly. In your mind you were going over the future possibilities. If you were awarded the scholarship, you’d be going off to attend university. If it was not granted to you but to someone else, your life would go back to the way it had always been.
Beomgyu seemed to catch the somber look in your eye as you looked to the distance. His expression faltered. “Oh.” He shifted on the bench beside you. “Oh, you mean…”
“I won’t be coming to the castle any more,” you affirmed.
His eyes lost their sparkle only for a moment as he thought through this information. Then he seemed to perk up again. “Well, I can invite you to visit. To visit the library. I’m sure there’s still so much to learn here.”
Your heart swelled with the idea that he wanted to see you more, even if you knew that it wasn’t a probable conclusion. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust the prince’s word, only that you knew that he was a busy man with tight schedules, that you were the eldest child of a noble family with a future to be decided and forged ahead. You returned his smile and tried to ignore the thought that you wished he’d come to the library months ago, that you’d met sooner so you could have had more time together.
“Would you like me to keep reading?” you asked as you reminded yourself that he was a prince and that was all he would ever be to you. It was a fortunate happenstance to have met him at all, you reminded yourself as he nodded eagerly and propped his chin into his hand to listen contentedly as you began to read again.
It didn’t stop you from clinging to every moment and trying to engrave every detail into your memory.
***
During the last few days you visited the castle library, you tried your best to think about Beomgyu as little as possible and focus solely on study. It was a hard task. Passing the grand portrait of the royal family in the hallway without looking was like trying not to glance around when feeling the presence of someone you know. It felt as if the library was haunted now. Almost each corner held a memory of the prince finding you and bumbling eagerly through a tale, helping you carry books back to their shelves, or asking you to come and sit in the garden.
You had seriously considered leaving early, removing yourself from the castle before the hour he usually made his way to the library. But you weren’t sure which would hurt more — knowingly missing out on seeing him in the last few chances you had, or having more encounters in which to grow more attached. The thought of both made something inside of you ache.
Just when you’d convinced yourself you had made up your mind to leave, you passed a window and spotted a carriage pull up at the entrance gates below. The door swung before the footman could rush to open it and there he was. You didn’t know he hadn’t been here in the castle. The heart that had sat heavy in your chest felt leagues lighter just at this distant glimpse of him. As you tried to gauge whether you were relieved you hadn’t gotten away without seeing the prince, you saw him rush inside. He disappeared from view of the window and you looked up into the purple hued sky of the fast oncoming dusk. Maybe you were safe after all. He was clearly on his way to tend to a matter of importance. Feeling assured you could slip away unnoticed, you slid the last volume back onto its shelf and made for the door.
The sound of hurried footsteps on marble gave you pause. Unconsciously you backed away a few steps frin the open double doors, ready to wait out the staff who must have been ascending the staircase on some urgent errand. But the huff of exertion you heard was familiar. Heart pulsing suddenly and in a mind of suspense and disbelief, you waited with bated breath.
When Beomgyu stepped through the doors, you felt an overwhelming gratitude that you hadn’t succeeded in your departure. Even after a mere day without seeing each other, seeing those warm eyes and the smile that broke across his face when he found you felt akin to finding a well of water after a month without rain.
“I’m so glad I found you here,” he said in his usual way, and it sparked your smile just as it always did. You were so occupied with trying to memorize this feeling, to make sure you remembered this moment, that you didn’t reply. Beomgyu was preoccupied himself and didn’t seem to notice. “I got you something.” His grin turned a tiny bit shy.
You blinked in surprise as the words sank in. “You got–? Your Highness–”
Beomgyu chuckled. “Come on, none of that.” Your eyes didn’t leave his as he reached for the hand at your side. His other retrieved something tucked under his arm. Gently he turned your hand upwards, and you hardly had time to process anything before an object was placed into it.
You looked down to see the very book you had been reading in the garden, only it wasn’t the same copy. This seemed to be a newer edition, with a beautiful blue velvet cover. It felt quite luxurious as you turned it over in your hands. A gasp emitted from you as the glint of the gold page edges caught the light. It was the most special and thoughtful gift you’d ever received, and, you thought, far more precious than any of the books that surrounded you in the royal library. You found yourself so touched that you wanted to cry, but you fought back the tears as you looked up at your friend.
The prince looked twice as happy as you felt. His eyes sparkled despite the soft lighting, and his cheeks had taken on a slightly bashful pink. “So you can finish it,” he told you softly. “And read it over and over again, any time you want.”
You were still speechless, and you could feel the hot prickle of tears threatening to build. Before you knew it, you had thrown your arms around his neck, his arms closing around your back. Never did you imagine anything like this. You were stretched up on your toes, and you were sure he was leaning down to hug you, but you were too wrapped up in the moment to think about any of it. It felt like you were holding on to each other a long time before you finally parted. The urge to kiss his cheek filled you as you brushed away from him, but you thought better of it. The last thing you wanted was for him to feel as though you were jumping to conclusions that were presumptuous.
“I don’t have anything to give you,” you fretted. The weight of the book in your hands made you feel unexpectedly empty-handed.
Beomgyu chuckled. “It’s a ‘good luck’ present. Except I know you won’t need luck.”
“Thank you, Beomgyu.” His smile somehow grew at your use of his name. You knew you had his smile etched into your memory already.
“You’ll have to tell me how it ends,” he said as the two of you made your way slowly down the stairs. It was the first time he’d walked you out, and you were too intent on borrowing more time with him to worry much about being seen together when you reached the grand hall.
“No, I won’t,” you retorted with a laugh, looking up at him as you both dragged out each next step as subtly as possible. “You have your own copy here,”
Beomgyu pondered this for a moment, lips pursing, before formulating his reply. His eyes were determined as they met yours again. “Well, we’ll have to discuss our opinions on the ending.”
Neither of you took notice of the way the heads turned and followed the two of you as you crossed the hall. It was mostly palace staff at this time of evening. With the book clutched to your chest, they could only gather that this was the spark that had ignited Prince Beomgyu’s sudden penchant for reading. Many silent smiles were exchanged across the room as you passed.
“You will come if I invite you, won’t you?” Bromgyu asked on the front steps. His face was earnest, maybe the most you’d ever seen. “When you have time out from school?”
“Of course,” you replied, meaning it with all the hope in your heart. “But I haven’t gotten the scholarship yet.” You felt cause to keep reminding him.
“As well as I know how often you could come to visit if you didn’t get it, I know you will. I have no doubt.”
You looked up to see the genuine look in his eyes, sincerity doing little to conceal the sadness. “We’ll see each other again.” The words felt like truth as you spoke them. “And in the meantime, we can write.” Beomgyu nodded eagerly.
Disappointment tugged at you when you spotted your family’s carriage roll up through the gates. With a small bow and one last smile, you stepped into the vehicle, still clutching Beomgyu’s gift. You kept your eyes on him as the horses walked on, watched him wave until he was out of sight. There was a renewed heaviness about you as you sat back and settled in for the journey home. Even the first stars beginning to emerge from the darkening sky couldn’t comfort you as you gazed out of the window solemnly.
***
Prince Beomgyu tried his best, rather unsuccessfully, to stifle yet another yawn. He’d stayed up too late reading, and now he was sitting in the grand hall trying to go over his upcoming speech with bleary eyes. He hadn’t intended to go to bed quite so late, but each time he’d told himself he’d close the book at the end of the chapter, he hadn’t been able to. The closer he’d gotten to the end of the story, the more gripped by it he’d become and the faster his eyes seemed capable of taking in the words. He’d read until he’d finished the book, then sat in stunned silence. He couldn’t help but wonder if you’d finished the book yourself, and he’d had the strong urge to start a letter. Instead, his good sense had taken him to bed, where he’d remembered the speech he should have spent the night memorising. The book had been a satisfying distraction. Without it he likely would have tossed and turned the whole night in anticipation of giving his speech.
Beomgyu was still new to public speaking and was not fond of it. As the hour grew closer, he found himself stumbling over his words as he practised. He could feel his heart rate increase, seemingly with each tick of the loud ornate clock across from him and every sound that carried into the hall from the room full of people he was to address.
Getting to his feet, he began to move about the room in an effort to soothe himself. His thoughts attempted to reassure him. He knew what was expected of him. He knew, for the most part, what he was to say. But then the image of hundreds of pairs of eyes all fixed on him crept into his mind, sending a chill down his back. As he passed the clock, he felt it was taunting him — it seemed the minutes were passing faster than they should. He could almost feel the second hand’s torturous chanting inside his chest from this proximity. With a shaky sigh he turned to cross the room away from it again, fiddling with the golden buttons on his jacket cuff which he had already fastened and unfastened more times than he could count in his nervous state.
Through the open doors across the hall he could hear the familiar sound of a carriage arriving out front. Beomgyu allowed himself to imagine it had come to rescue him. He had the urge to go and greet it, just to give him a brief distraction, but the clock stared him down, boasting a mere five minutes remaining until he must speak in front of the crowd. Reaching for the small paper in his pocket, he made to sit once more and make himself concentrate on revising the words, until a voice called his title. He jumped back to his feet in panic, fearing they had come to usher him in early, but as he turned to the door beside him that led to the luncheon, he found no one. Instantly some of the tension in his raised shoulders fell away.
“Beomgyu!”
His heart skipped over one beat as he spun toward the entrance and saw a figure in a half mannerly run. Disbelief flickered in his mind at the sight of you, the first in weeks, but his body suddenly felt lighter than it had all day. You were rushing toward him, an unmistakable grin on your face, footsteps muffled by the thick ancient rug that carpeted the tiled floors.
Beomgyu stepped away from his seat with only seconds to spare, his face still one of bewilderment as you threw your arms around him, almost knocking the prince off his feet. His heart was thudding rapidly in his chest, but now it had nothing to do with nerves. His arms went around you instinctively as you met chest to chest, and in his excitement he brought you up onto your toes with his hug. Your laugh in his ear was like a familiar tune from a yesterday he’d longed to return to.
You pulled back to see his face, speaking first as you saw a question forming in his mind. “I got it! The scholarship – I got it!” you exclaimed.
The sun seemed to dawn on Beomgyu’s face, along with something that looked proud. “Of course you did! What did I tell you?”
His arms had relaxed around you to let you draw back, and now you glanced down at the placement of your hands on his shoulders, looking a touch shy in your realisation. His smile grew at this.
“You worked so hard.” He spoke more softly than a moment ago. His heart didn’t seem to settle as the two of you untangled from each other. He had half a thought to check on the time before another thought replaced it. “I finished the book last night.”
Your smile turned fond. He’d missed you more than he’d thought he had, which was hard to imagine. “I finished it the night you gave it to me,” you admitted with a small laugh. “Did you like how the story ends?”
Beomgyu reached a hand out toward yours in a small movement, his skin tingling at the feel of your warm fingers as you allowed your own to close around his. It was the second time he’d touched your hand, and this time he could hold it longer. “Yes,” he replied as he felt his smile widen. Your eyes met his again with a new shine. “I liked the ending very much.”
The clock chimed across the hall, announcing the hour and reminding him of his impending task. The door opened and his advisor appeared. If he was surprised to find the prince with company, he didn’t show it. The man simply smiled and nodded his head respectfully. “They’re ready for you, Your Highness.” Then he disappeared back inside.
Beomgyu took a deep breath. He found that he wasn’t as anxious as he had been before. There was still a lingering nervousness, but it had been softened by another feeling. Even the wall of sound that was just beyond the door seemed to have dulled at the back of his mind. He looked at you and you nodded towards the open door.
“My parents are inside. I used them as my excuse to come here.” He caught your clever smile, then felt your hand on his shoulder, and before he knew it you’d raised up onto your toes and your lips brushed his cheek. It was the kiss you’d held back before. “Good luck. But I know you won’t need it,” you said, slipping away through the door before he could react to the tingle on his face.
The prince’s mind was pleasantly blank as he faced the door and the duty ahead of him. It seemed his nerves had been replaced by a buzzing sensation that felt rather like courage, matching the tingling trace of your kiss on his face. Equipped with a smile, he stepped into the room feeling like he was about to give his best speech yet.
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missriyochuchi · 3 months ago
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The Torchbearer and the Flagbearer
Summary: The Torchbearer and the Flagbearer meet in the Jardin des Tuileries after the Opening Ceremony and commiserate about the Olympic Games.
Word count: 1.7k
Warnings: Established relationship. Mentions of death.
Notes: I imagined these two like otherworldly beings blessing the games, what with the Olympics being invented by ancient Greeks as a partly religious event. As such, I would have preferred to keep them gender neutral, but because I’m writing this in a pinch and want to be able to distinguish between them without constantly using their names, I opted for gendered pronouns. But nothing about their physical descriptions are particularly gendered; I’m just leaning on the old linguistic quirk lol Also, how tf is there no video of the Flagbearer!? I wanted to gif her/their entrance but couldn’t find a damn thing! She/They deserves more love!
Read on AO3 - Part 2 - Part 3
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Darkness cloaks the Jardin des Tuileries. Even the cauldron floating above its center offers little illumination on the ground. Shadows play along the perimeter, tourists passing in the midnight hour, their idle conversations lost to the humid air. The soft patter of rain echoes across the masonry scattered throughout the empty park. Only the occasional creak of metallic plates and restless hoofbeats betray the garden’s solitary visitors.
The Flagbearer looks up at the orange orb in the sky. She marvels at the city’s ingenuity. Decades of oil and gas have finally given way to an electric fire. Only with such technological advancements could engineers even dream of safely flying the eternal flame above the City of Lights. If only the future was as assuredly bright, the Flagbearer thinks. Her gaze drifts back down to the darkness below, the surrounding chill creeping back into her senses. Her horse stirs beneath her and jostles her mind back to the present.
“Easy, Zeus,” she murmurs as she presses her legs to the animal’s sides in an attempt to soothe both their anxieties. “Patience.”
No Olympic Games are ever truly free of political problems, an inevitability of any gathering between disparate peoples, but they weigh heavier on the Flagbearer’s mind now more than ever. Her part in the Opening Ceremony is small but significant, and though she spends less time among the crowds than her eternal counterpart, she catches enough to gauge that tensions are higher than ever before. The darkness of the night seems to encroach and bleed into the darkness in her mind as she ponders human history and her role in it. Before her resolve could lurch under the gravity of her thoughts, the light crunch of gravel announces his arrival.
“You are late,” the Flagbearer intones harshly. She steers her steed to turn around and face the approaching footsteps.
Enough ambient light creeps across the park to distinguish the Torchbearer’s silhouette, catching on the gauzy pieces of his attire bobbing in the breeze. His stride is sure, his stature straight, betraying neither weariness nor arrogance. Only a few meters away, he shrugs and raises his palms out at his sides, teasing, “I did not have a ride.”
The Flagbearer is unmoved but in no mood to quarrel. “How are you, my love?” Her voice floats soft and light through the misty drizzle.
“Exhausted.” His shoulders slump fractionally, perceptible only to his eternal flame facing him. “And you?”
“Concerned.”
The Torchbearer reaches for the horse’s muzzle and runs a familiar hand along his nose. “I hope you are not as troubled as your rider, mon joli cheval.” Zeus bows his long head and huffs in response. His palm runs along the animal’s left flank, lifting once he reaches the Flagbearer’s side. He extends both hands to her gloved ones and helps her to the ground.
“What ails my sweet?” He pinches her chin.
She hums and takes one of his hands in both of hers, squeezing hard enough to convey her worry. “In all our years shepherding these games, did you ever know the atmosphere to be this—”
“I know. The world is—”
“Restless.”
“Yes, and—”
“Not at peace.”
“Never has been, my love.”
“I do not remember it ever being this—”
“Your worries are not unfounded, cherie, but you must redirect your attention elsewhere.”
They circle the base beneath the cauldron, hand in hand. Zeus follows close behind, his reins tied to the saddle. While the nightlife bustles beyond the park’s pocket of silence, the few security guards on duty watch the hooded figures from a distance.
Event organizers had explicitly and numerously instructed personnel not to approach or engage with the Torchbearer and Flagbearer. They were both host and blessing to the festivities, and decades of tradition dictated that a respectful, neutral distance be maintained between the host nation and the two Olympic guardians so that there would be no suspicion of impropriety or favoritism during competition.
The Flagbearer recoils, incredulous. “How can you be so indifferent to the violence and rhetoric—”
“I am surprised that between the two of us, you, in your glittering armor, are the first to lose hope and declare defeat.”
“I have not!” She stops them in their orbit and shoves his hand back to his side.
The Torchbearer laughs. He crooks a finger under her chin and raises her gaze. She sighs and closes her eyes as the backs of his fingers graze her cheek. Her hands come up to open and press his palm to the side of her face, his pressure more than his warmth a soothing balm to her inner turmoil. Her voice is low and leaden when she continues.
“I merely wonder if the gods have not tasked us with an impossible mission.”
The Torchbearer falls silent as he contemplates the Flagbearer’s concerns. She did not interact with humans as much as he did, a natural consequence of their separate roles. While the Olympic torch exchanged hands with every kind of man and woman, the Olympic flag exchanged hands with a significantly select few. As a result, the Flagbearer’s opinion of humanity often leaned towards the optimistic while the Torchbearer’s leaned towards the pessimistic. He had come to know, better than she, the complexities of human nature, their heavenly highs and their hellish lows. They spent decades arguing about the tenuous balance. Now, as he watches his partner’s shoulders sag with the weight of the world, he finds himself despondent that she seems poised to concede to his viewpoint and knows it, knows that she lost this one important battle. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and guides their walk away from the cauldron.
“Plus vite, Plus haute, Plus fort.” The Torchbearer rattles off the Olympic motto.
“Citius, Altius, Fortius, my dear. Latin may be dead, but it is still your mother tongue.”
“‘Ensemble.’ C’est la partie importante. And that is precisely what they are doing and continue to do.”
“But for how long? We do not have a future if they do not, and my darling, I do not see—”
“We cannot predict the future any more than humans can. It is none of our concern. The gods will take care of us.”
“The gods have abandoned us, just as the humans have abandoned them.” The Flagbearer catches the ice in her voice and does her best to warm her vitriol. “We do not exist outside these games, my love. And if these games end, if the world can find no purpose to these communal competitions—”
Silence. The specter of death looms large in their periphery. Every Closing Ceremony marks the end of their days on Earth, a return to a darkness beyond darkness. And every two years, they are reborn and reimagined back into existence to inspire and perform and protect the Olympic Games. Despite the constancy of this cyclical event, the eternal guardians find humans increasingly less hospitable to the ideals they represent. What is sportsmanship to a world where even the rules of war no longer hold?
“Steel your heart as this city has steeled your form.” The Torchbearer steps close enough for the edge of his hood to kiss hers. “The next host cities have been decided, their venues under construction. We still have a future. There is no reason to despair.”
“For now.”
“For now.” He sighs at her obstinacy, but knows not to push further or risk wasting precious moments on a fruitless fight. “In the meantime, the games have begun, and we do not have much time together.”
A smirk plays beneath the Flagbearer’s hood. She perks up at her partner’s motives. “Sixteen days is not enough to spend with you.” She steps closer and brings her forehead to his. She squeezes his biceps, and he rubs her elbows in return. They exchange breaths for a moment of eternity.
“Come.” The Torchbearer takes her hands and swings her in circles. Their laughs echo as they near the horse. “Much of the city has changed since we were last here, and you will not see them if you continue to sulk beneath the cauldron.”
The Flagbearer mounts Zeus and extends an arm to help the Torchbearer take a seat behind her. He presses his front to her back, unbothered by her damp cape. He slides his arms along either side of her waist and rests his hands atop hers on the horn of the saddle. The horse ambles forward towards the city streets.
Buoyed by the Torchbearer’s embrace, the Flagbearer regains a sliver of her hope and optimism. “The Italians will call on us next. Perhaps we will meet a changed world by then.”
“We always do. I wonder what forms they have planned for us.”
“I quite like this form on you, my dear. The cut of your jacket complements you well.”
“As does this armor on you, mon amour.” His hands find the edge of her cuirass and sneak nimble fingers to the suit underneath.
She giggles at the light pressure below her ribcage. “I will miss hearing you speak this city’s language.”
The Torchbearer tightens his hold on the Flagbearer, impressing his being into hers. “You worry about community and forget that we are in the City of Love.”
“Paris is not the world, my dear.” They sway in sync as Zeus carries them towards the edge of the garden.
“Perhaps, but the Olympic Village is, or at least, as close an approximation as the humans are capable of producing. If it is unity you seek, we will surely find a certain kind—”
“You said you were exhausted.” Amusement lightens the Flagbearer’s tone, her heavy mind now fizzy with thoughts of the Torchbearer’s amorous intentions.
“Never enough to deter me from you.” He presses his chin to her shoulder, his words vibrating down the expanse of her armor. “Would you waste the energy of the players’ liaisons?”
Her hood whips to the side as he squeezes the unarmored flesh of her upper thigh. Before she can answer, he takes the reins and brings Zeus to a gallop towards the Olympic Village.
“No more talk,” he heaves with urgency. “I need you before the sun rises and our duties begin again.”
Footnotes:
mon joli cheval - my pretty horse cherie - dear Plus vite, Plus haute, Plus fort (French) / Citius, Altius, Fortius (Latin) - Faster, Higher, Stronger ‘Ensemble.’ C’est la partie importante. (French) - ‘Together.’ That is the important part. mon amour - my love
“The 100% electric flame burns no fuel. The ring of fire uses 40 LED spotlights to illuminate the cloud created by 200 high-pressure misting nozzles.” (source)
According to the engineers who built the mechanical horse, its name is Zeus.
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frutigeraerosims · 6 months ago
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"A tropical ocean paradise loved by divers for its colorful coral and fish and more recently by scientists for its unique marine life. With plenty of large and small fish, this is an ideal diving location."
Hi, I’m Catherine and this is my first Sims 3 world! My intention was to create a smaller world that can be used to play the Island Paradise expansion pack in a more compact way. (It’s technically medium-sized, but a lot of that is water.) I based this world on the area of the same name in the game Endless Ocean: Blue World, granted with quite a lot of creative liberties taken. Gatama Atoll is situated in the fictional country of the Pelago Commonwealth, which is in Micronesia.
Isla Paradiso is stunning and there are great fixes out there, but I still prefer to play smaller worlds for the sake of performance and convenience. So here’s a small world meant for boats, houseboats, resorts, lifeguards, merfolk and of course diving!
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While Gatama Atoll now features a town, the original area is still for diving, with 5 dive lots based on some of the areas in the game. On the islands surrounding the dive lots are small nature areas similar to those found in the original Gatama Atoll — you can find animals here.
Nearby is Nineball Island, a relaxing and homey place, ready for divers to move in and make it their hub of operations. This is also an area from Endless Ocean: Blue World.
The town features all the base game rabbit holes as well as a few community lots and the Festival Grounds, and empty lots for expansion. Additionally, there are houses situated right near the water, and ports for houseboats. The empty 64x64 lot is intended for you to build your own resort (or place one you downloaded), though of course you can place your resort elsewhere if you wish.
Like Isla Paradiso, Gatama Atoll has mysterious islands surrounded by fog, waiting for discovery. Only a few, though; one unlocked through diving, one through resorts, and one through lifeguarding (exact way to get each island will be included below).
Gatama Atoll requires Island Paradise, Seasons, Pets, and Sunlit Tides. I specifically made this world with blam’s ea store files, as my decrapped sims3packs did not work in CAW. Therefore, I believe this means you also need the Sunlit Tides store files to be non-decrapped in order to play this world. My recommendation is to just pick them up from blam.
This world definitely isn’t perfect, considering it was made by a complete novice. Here are some disclaimers:
The landscaping is relatively simple, both because of performance concerns and because I lack skill in this area.
The only lot I made is Nineball Island + I edited the houseboat. The other lots are all from Sunlit Tides or Isla Paradiso.
The world is also definitely on the smaller side and doesn’t have room for a lot of extra lots.
Also, you need to be farther out in the ocean to snorkel, you can’t be close to the beach.
The notifications when your sim levels up their diving skill are gonna say the Isla Paradiso diving spot names (e.g "Rocky Reef"), not the Gatama Atoll diving spot names. Please refer below for a proper guide on when you can access each diving spot.
This world was made in version 1.67 (Steam)
Required mods
NRaas register - with this mod, ban horses, unicorns, paparazzi and deer for a smoother experience. You don't want that stuff in this world.
Dive cave reset fix - I used one and only one dive cave in this world. With this mod, you need to reset that dive cave when you see it, just once. Please do not forget to reset the cave so that your sim doesn't get reset when trying to enter.
Interact on sloped terrain - The world is kinda curvy so I think having this is a good idea.
Recommended additions
Surf’s Up Sun and Fun Collection - so your sim can surf, and also have some cute CAS stuff.
Sun, Surf and Sand - cute beachy buildbuy stuff.
Island Villa - ditto^
Tiki dining room - tiki buildbuy stuff
Tiki living room - ditto^
Tiki outdoor living - ditto^
Yoga mod by twinsimming - for the tropical paradise zen.
Mermaid Power mod by xantak22 - improves mermaid gameplay.
4t3 Island Living conversions - look around for some if you need more buildbuy or clothes.
Feel free to do whatever you want with this world! I have no conditions. You’re welcome to tag me so I can see, too :)
Download 🐠
Notes
Here is when each dive spot is unlocked:
Atoll Gate: available at level 2 of the diving skill
Spring Garden: available at level 4 of the diving skill
Doughnut Reef: Available at level 6 of the diving skill
Blue Cliff: Available at level 8 of the diving skill
Cabbage Patch: Available at level 10 of the diving skill
Here is how to get each hidden island:
Diving island: At level 10 of the diving skill, explore the cave in Cabbage Patch. Reset the cave before going in.
Lifeguard island: Rescue 35 sims as a lifeguard.
Resort island: Have a 5-star resort.
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qierxing · 1 year ago
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A/N: An interpreted continuation of @shiny-jr wonderful fic. (checks calendar) Uhm, happy three month update to this series AND 1k notes on the first part! I would say sorry for the wait, but I really did need it LOL. Anyway, it's not super obvious, but the timeline is a bit all over the place in this part, because I'm jumping back and forth between past and present.
TW/CW: Immolation, violence, implied stalking+actual stalking, obsessive behavior, mild psychological and body horror, toxic relationships, Yuu uses it/its pronouns, we get a little meta in here, the boys are FIGHTINGGG I. II. | Isekai AU | Yan! Heartslabyul x Reader
“Who are you?” said the Caterpillar.
This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, “I—I hardly know, Sir, just at present—at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.”
“What do you mean by that?” said the Caterpillar, sternly. “Explain yourself!”
“I ca’n’t explain myself, I’m afraid, Sir,” said Alice, “because I am not myself, you see.”
— Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Caroll
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vi. Mourning
It is incredibly hard to get Yuu alone.
Whether it be by the forces of fate or just because so many vie for their attention, there is rarely, if ever, any time when someone is able to spend time personally alongside them. The only exception to this rule is Grim, who was practically the player's companion from the beginning.
So when Ace Trappola manages a rare chance to snag some one on one time with Yuu, he guns for it. Course, he had to time it perfectly. 
It was just another night like any other. Ace and Deuce decided to come over to hang out for a casual sleepover as usual. The four of them did initially start out studying, before the textbooks and worksheets were being abandoned in favor of more exciting things, such as the deck of cards that Ace brought with him.
Sending Deuce and Grim off to get snacks through a won bet over a card game was easy as pie.
"Hey Ace?" 
He hums in response, letting Yuu know he's listening. His nimble fingers shuffle the worn cards, flipping through them with practiced ease. Stacking them up quickly, he wonders if he should try to impress Yuu with another card trick to gain their enthralled praise.
"Do you…like…being my friend?"
The question makes him blink and look up in surprise at Yuu. It feels blasphemous to hear such doubt lingering in their words.
"Why? Scared I'm gonna ditch ya?" He teases.
Yuu doesn't respond, only giving a sheepish smile back. 
"I-It's not like I don't like being friends with you." He tries to keep his cool. "I just-"
Yuu's smile doesn't falter. "It's okay, Ace."
He's reminded of his previous girlfriend in middle school. It was more of a fling than a serious thing, but it's something he remembers vividly. Their breakup, after all, was rather dramatic.
"You're too much, Ace. Sometimes you just take it too far." 
What was even her name? Elizabeth? He could barely even remember, but for some reason, he still recalls the intense way her face was twisted in burning resentment. He tried to bury it in the past. He swore he would never fall in love or get into another relationship, preferring friendships over any kind of romantic trysts.
Now that he looks at Yuu, he already knows he's screwed up big time.
Yuu's gaze is no longer meeting his, instead staring into the fireplace that Grim had so generously set up earlier. The crackling blue flames reflect in their irises and in that moment, dread curls inside Ace's stomach. Yuu doesn't seem right.
"Hey…you okay?" He asks hesitantly, placing a hand on their shoulder.
Yuu doesn't move, still staring at the fire intently. He opens his mouth to ask again, but then they speak.
"If I wasn't acting like myself, would you still like me?" 
Another question out of left field. 
"Even if you somehow grow anemones on your head, Yuu's still Yuu, right?" His heart swells in pride at the way their lips quirk at his inside joke. 
"Yeah…" they murmur back. 
"Wanna see somethin' cool?" he says, holding out a card. Yuu tilts their head questioningly.
"It's the ace of hearts. What about it?"
"It's not just the ace of hearts!" Ace puffs out his cheeks. "Don't you know the meaning of this card?"
Yuu shakes their head.
"It means good news for yourself or someone close. Practically a lucky charm!" Ace waggles his eyebrows suggestively. "So how can things go wrong now that you have me?"
Yuu snorts and shoves him playfully. "Yeah, yeah, okay, Mr. Lucky Charm."
But it works. The foggy clouds clear from Yuu's eyes, finally returning them to the familiar luster he's used to. For the rest of the night, there is no hint of hollowness within them. And Ace hopes he will never see that sight again.
-
He should've known something was up since that night.
When Headmaster Crowley personally makes an appearance at their dorm, he should've realized it then. If there was anything that the old raven hated more, it was having to do more work than usual. 
"That person wasn't an imposter." Crowley says, coughing awkwardly into his fist.
The solemn words echo in his head on end. The rest of the Headmaster's words start to tune out for Ace. Automatically, his legs begin to move on their own. The calls of the others chase after him, but he ignores them, racing out of the lounge and towards the mirror portal.
Because if you didn't hurt Yuu-
-then what had he done?
When he first arrived in NRC, he didn't even know that Ramshackle dorm existed. Not until Yuu came to reside there; until he had to beg for shelter from them when he was chained with that damn collar. He knew that they didn't have to take him in. But they did, and maybe that's why Ace couldn't turn his back after that. 
The building before him is no longer the broken down hovel that he remembers back then. He remembers how the roof was almost caving in and wooden beams were always in danger of collapsing. Each knock on the entrance doors would send cascades of dust upon his head. Now, the walls are painted with a fresh coat of paint, the roof has new shingles, and the place actually looks like a house you could safely live in. 
Bang! Bang! Bang!
"Prefect! Are you there?!" He yells, desperation leaking into his voice. "Please!"
Bang! Bang!
He's gotta be out of his damn mind, acting like some crazy person. But he can't help but be blinded by his fear. So he keeps hitting the door with his fists, praying, hoping, for…well that someone would open the door.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
"Yuu!!" He screams, and his voice echoes around him, mocking his helplessness. His fists are becoming numb from slamming the wood so hard, but he can't stop himself.
"Yuu–!"
"Oi! Ace!!!" A rough hand on his shoulder shoves him back and before he could knock the souvnabit-
"Ace, look at me!"
He's stopped by Deuce's fists meeting his in an even match of strength. Like an illusion broken, Ace stills and yanks his hands back.
There's only heavy breathing in between them for a long while. 
"...they're not here." Ace snaps to look at Deuce, who only closes his eyes in a painful grimace.
"What do you mean, 'not here'?" Ace asks.
Deuce doesn't say anything for a beat.
"What do you mean they're–"
"They're in the infirmary." Deuce's words flow out in a breathless rush. "The Headmaster said that after you ran."
Fuck, he just acted like an idiot then. No wonder no one was responding to his absolute earth shattering door banging and yelling. Then the meaning of Deuce's words begin to sink in. Oh Seven, no–
He turns and before he could even step in the direction of the main building, his arm is yanked back.
He snarls at Deuce. "Let me go! I have to see the prefect!"
"Housewarden is calling you back." Deuce forces out through gritted teeth and closed eyes. "The Headmaster said that…they don't want to see anyone."
And like a fire put out, Ace's anger chokes to flickering embers.
He lets Deuce guide him back, all the way from the Ramshackle dorm, to the mirror portal, and then back to Heartslabyul's lounge where the other three are grimly awaiting them.
Ace half expects to be yelled at once he passes the threshold. Or get some kind of lecture on how he should have better manners than to just run off like that. It would've been just like his housewarden to only care about weird, arbitrary rules when there were other arguably more important matters.
But his housewarden sits silently on his gilded velvet throne with glassy eyes. There's no anger burning behind them, and the freshmen are terrified to see their once proud and fearsome queen reduced to this husk. He almost would rather him back to the state where he was barking out orders for them. The silence in the lounge is deafening.
Ace swears they must be all thinking the same thing.
Please let this be a bad dream.
-
He tried calling you. Texting you. Hell, he even tried messaging you on Magicam! Magicam, of all things! 
Anxiety claws at his heart with each unread message and dial voice tone greeting. He has so much to say, to ask for-
Deuce wasn't faring well on his side either. He had also tried calling and texting you, to no avail. Grim, that traitor, hadn't come back to visit Heartslabyul at all since the incident. Never mind the fact he had only himself to blame for that—he thought at the very least the cat direbeast would have some sense of pity for their friendship and throw them a bone. 
Ace tried two more times to meet you. 
First, during your infirmary stay, when you were still unconscious.
The second time was when you returned to Ramshackle dorm with Grim.
Maybe the Seven were punishing him for his hubris. Or he supposes this is just karma. Because both times, he fails spectacularly at the front door of Heartslabyul. Because of this, he's the reason why Riddle had put them all on house arrest (with the exception of academic reasons, of course).
It's a declaration that would've been met with mutiny from all of them, if it weren't for the fact that even Headmaster Crowley had explicitly forbade anyone from showing up on Ramshackle's doorstep or trying to meet you. So he understands. Really! He does. He's seen how Riddle holes up in his room, muttering to himself while carrying out boxes upon boxes of crumpled paper. When he manages to snag a stray paper that flutters out on garbage day, Ace realizes that Riddle is also just as frenzied trying to reach out to you. Even if he is going about it in an old fashioned way.
He'll chip in to help. If his housewarden is left to his own devices, they’ll all be fossils by the time he sends what he deems a satisfactory letter. 
And the faster they do this, the faster they have a chance of reaching you.
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vii. Embalming
The most horrifying thing is that it doesn't seem to care about dying.
That cursed pile of ceramic shards had disappeared—no, pieced itself back together—and once again, it became the smiling face of Yuu, the being they all knew and used to adore.
Riddle Rosehearts immediately smashed it to pieces again under the weight of his magic.
No one had tried to stop their housewarden. Not even the faceless mobs. Even if they were all alarmed at the erratic behavior of their housewarden, they could not deny the fear of seeing something dead come back alive. With not so much as a dent or wound in them, for that matter.
The third time it happened, Riddle ordered for the remains to be dumped into the school’s incinerator at the highest heat level. Surely, that would be enough. 
He watched as the incinerator roared and shuddered, shaking as if the pits of hell had opened. After a few agonizing minutes, the rumbling stops, and before he can even breathe a sigh of relief, the iron hatches creak open, and out strolls Yuu, perfectly fine and pieced together again.
It's magic. Or some kind of century old curse. Of course it is. After all, it was at a higher power than even Draconia's comprehension. Why he didn't consider the possibility beforehand is something he berates himself now. 
What might be the most damning thing is that it has no fear or suspicion in its face; even after the multiple times it’s been maimed and torn apart. Not like you, who immediately closed themselves off at being hurt so thoroughly. 
The irony isn't lost on him. The temptation of letting the puppet take its place back in favor of just bringing everything back to how it was is something Riddle could not deny. But now that he's actually met you, Yuu just seems more of a shadow of what he remembers during your interactions together.
It has your face. It acts like you.
But it's not you.
When Ace asks after the commotion at the Unbirthday party on how he was able to figure out that it wasn’t [First], he had to take a moment to gather his thoughts. Ace’s face changes into something of disbelief when Riddle merely replies with: “[First] takes their tea with two sugars and a dash of milk.”
“You were so sure only because of that?”
He doesn’t want to think what Ace’s face would look like if he had explained his whole list of reasons how he realized that the puppet wasn’t you. How he soaked up as much as he could when you came over for the tea party. Your expressions, your little habits, the way you fidget…it was all filed away in Riddle's head and later, his private notebook.
But that doesn’t matter now. Now, there’s an even bigger problem than the puppet resurrecting itself.
Grim is missing again.
This alone should've been more worrying than anything for Yuu, but it merely shrugs and says it’s not sure where he scampered off to. He's more than suspicious, of course, but there is no proof, which is infuriating already.
But without Grim, they are missing the key to finding [First]. 
The others raise hell once they hear the news Riddle reports at the weekly housewarden meeting. A new wave of tension washes over NRC and with it, an unprecedented deep disdain for the puppet. It returns back to classes unannounced, making Ace and Deuce rant to him about how weird it is that it’s trying so hard to act like nothing had happened. It attends school events with their camera, drumming up conversations like normal between all of them; despite the fact it gets ignorance or violence in response (depending on the person it greets).
But none of them are really sure on how to interact with Yuu.
The nicer ones, like Trey or Deuce, entertain Yuu with frigidly civil responses, in hopes of boring the puppet and making it flit away to another victim. Meanwhile, he and Ace have finally come together on an agreed opinion: that they would rather die before letting the puppet even think it could take [First]’s place.
“Go away.”
Yuu merely smiles in response to Riddle’s annoyed voice. The puppet leisurely lounges in the chair across the table from him. The school library is vast but empty, his authoritative voice echoing down the long halls. Several floating books flit past above their heads and the chandeliers above flicker with bright candlelight.
“I just wanted to keep you company.” Riddle purses his mouth in disgust. It’s invasive, it’s gross, and most of all it feels wrong to hear those words coming from Yuu. 
“I didn’t ask for your company,” he replies coldly. “Shouldn’t you know that it’s bad manners to bother someone who wants to be left alone?”
“I don’t think you like being left alone, Riddle.” He flinches at the way Yuu’s eyes bore into him. “Well, then again, you sure like to pretend you’re fine, don’t you?”
His hand tightens around the textbook he’s reading about cursed dolls. There would be no point if he brought out his magical pen and reduced it to rubble. But he is tempted, if only to get some peace and quiet for just a few minutes.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Riddle says.
“Hmm…” Yuu hums into its hand, “...then I suppose I will just let you be. What a shame, I had something entertaining to tell.”
“What? What do you mean?” 
Yuu giggles and waves him off. “No, no! You said you didn’t want my company now. Why should I tell you anything?”
He resists the urge to incinerate the book in his hands. “Fine! I would like your company. What is this ‘entertaining’ thing you want to tell me so badly?”
“Hmm…how insincere,” Yuu tilts its head coyly with a smile more akin to a smirk. “But I guess that’s the most I can get.”
“Since you’ve all been driving yourselves crazy, [First] is safe.” The floor feels like it’s been yanked underneath him. The puppet is smiling still, as if it’s all some big joke rather than the revelation it delivered. He can hear his blood roaring through his ears.
“You…” Riddle snarls, face heating into a bright red rage. “What did you do to them?”
It bursts into laughter at his face. 
“Why, I only granted their wish!”
Its laughter is cut short by the sound of ceramic being crushed, and Riddle is left shakily breathing at the pile of shards that used to be Yuu. The puppet’s words churn over and over in his head.
What did you wish for? 
-
It is currently 3:20 on a Wednesday afternoon. 
In his planner, the bullet point neatly penned on the schedule shows ‘Studying for History Test’ in bold blue ink for the time slot. ‘History of the Queendom of Roses’ is laid open on his desk, to the chapter about the local mythos of the area, just as he intended. His notes from lecture are next to it, with several of his stationary needed to jot down annotations. 
And yet, Riddle has yet to touch any of these items or actually adhere to his daily schedule—he’s too distracted by what he should do in order to reach the player.
Riddle's already embarrassed enough, resorting to handwritten letters with the best calligraphy he can muster. He's sent only a couple that passed his satisfaction, and they have all been met with judgemental silence. He’s hunched over another crumpled letter near ripping his hair out when someone knocks on his bedroom door. He quickly shoves the envelope under some textbooks out of frantic instinct.
“Come in.”
A familiar bob of red orange hair pops out behind his door, and Riddle raises an eyebrow at the underclassman who enters.
“Ace? What is it?” Normally, Ace would never be in his room if he could help it. If he was in Riddle’s room, it most likely meant he was either being scolded or punished. And Ace’s eyes are shifting side to side, as if he was trying to sneak his way in. 
“Out with it, Ace.” He’s not in the mood for the underclassman’s shenanigans.
“Housewarden, you’re writing letters to the prefect, aren’t ya?” The question completely takes him off-guard sputtering.
“W-What does t-that have to do with you?” He tries to maintain his composure, but Ace is already giving him a smug smirk for the one up on him. Of all people, it had to be him finding out. 
"I had an idea, Housewarden. Why don't we send them something with the letter?" Riddle blinks in surprise.
“...How smart of you for once, Ace.” It was so simple, yet he marvels at the idea's brilliance. Perhaps there was merit in trying this proposal.
“Hey! What the hell does that mean?!” His underclassman snaps back in a huff. “Whatever, point being, maybe we should switch it up instead of letters all the time.”
He crosses his arms, “And what do you suggest? There’s not much we can really send that hasn't been sent already by other dorms.”
Ace winces. Clearly he didn’t think about the other dorms with more affluent people; people who had more than enough thaumarks and prestige to spend it to appeal to you. Riddle can't blame him either: although he is at the top of the school and his parents are well known mages, it's not like any of that could help him here. All of them, in a sense, were stuck in that situation. 
For once, he starts to resent not having more.
"Ugh, well…maybe it doesn't need to be so fancy, you know?" Ace rubs his neck, face scrunched in frustration. "Like…uh…you know-flowers! People send flowers all the time, yeah?"
This is true. And for Queendom of Roses’ residents, it has become custom to send bouquets with subtle messages left in petals and stems. Although he is a bit loath to admit that he isn’t as well versed in the language of flowers compared to hedgehogs.
"And what do you recommend, Ace?" He asks. "What would be the best flower to send to the prefect in our circumstance?"
"We got all these roses, why not send them that?" Ace responds, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Riddle coughs in annoyance. 
"Why not just procure some from Sam's shop? Today is Wednesday. Do you not remember rule 228?" He chides. Ace groans, rolling his eyes. 
"Not the weird rules again…"
"Ace."
"Yeeesss Housewarden…" The card soldier mock salutes with a deadpan expression. "I'll see if we can get some flowers at Sam's."
"You better, or else it's–" 
"-off with my head, I got it, I got it." Riddle seethes as Ace cuts him off and dashes out of his room before he could get another word in. So troublesome…
Still, there's nothing to do except wait for his card soldier to report back. He turns back to his desk, bringing out the crumpled letter from its hiding place. Running a hand over the crumpled pages, he attempts to pick up his pen again, but fails as his thoughts begin to wander. 
Riddle only manages to pen a couple legible sentences when his door slams open, banging against the wall. He almost falls out of his chair in shock from the loud noise. How was Ace back so quickly?
"Have you not heard of knocking?!" He scowls, turning around to see Ace panting and sweating as if he had run a marathon.
"Never mind that, Housewarden, I saw them!" Ace shouts. 
“What are you jabbering…” Riddle trails off in realization. “You better not be horsing around, Ace.”
“Do you think I would lie to you about this?” Ace retorts frantically. “I saw them at Sam’s shop working the cashier!”
For a moment, his mind races with this information. If you were working at Sam’s shop, it would explain why you weren’t showing up to classes, let alone in the hallways or rooms of NRC. It’s a clever ruse—classes may be over during this time of day, but nearly all of them were participating in mandatory club activities or study labs. No wonder no one else has caught on to this. Riddle rubs his chin in thought, settling back in his chair.
“What are you going to do now, Housewarden Riddle?” Ace asks hesitantly. His eyes are filled with some kind of anticipation and hope, no doubt wondering if he could get some leeway in his own agenda. Normally, he would go right away as there was no need to hesitate about these kinds of things.
But. Crowley’s stern announcement comes back to his mind and guilt starts to creep in. 
“First, we’ll go with your idea, Ace.” He responds. “The ban hasn’t been lifted, after all.” Ace opens his mouth to protest, but he holds a hand up to interrupt him.
“But if that doesn’t work, then I’m sure even Crowley can’t say anything about coincidences.”
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viii. Calling Hours
“I’m not joking around, you two.” 
There’s very few times that the vice housewarden of Heartslabyul gets truly mad. His patience seems boundless, honed by years of taking care of younger siblings at home and then dealing with rowdy underclassmen in NRC. But even his saint-like patience could only stretch so far.  
“I told you, we didn’t do it!” Ace scowls with furrowed eyebrows and crossed arms. Meanwhile, Deuce is silent by his side, face twisted with conflicting emotions. “You don’t even have proof! You just singled us out just because!”
“Who else was around the kitchen when I left it?” Trey asks, voice starting to rise in anger. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice you two lurking around before?”
The two freshmen began to speak out, voices rambling over each other and cascading into a loud shouting match that was barely intelligible.
“We just wanted to see if we could get something from the fridge, how were we supposed to know someone would-”
“Me and Ace just wanted to bring something along when we deliver the Housewarden’s invitation to-”
"You dumbass, don't just say that out loud-!"
It’s at this moment that Cater Diamond strolls in, takes one look at the mess of the situation and does a 180 back round to the door. But it’s too late, because the interruption is just enough for Ace to sink his hooks into him.
“Cater-senpai, you believe us, right?” Ace shouts after the orange head, making him flinch in place. “You saw us get the order from Housewarden Riddle!”
Cater turns around slowly like a door on rusty hinges, with an expression that screams of not wanting to be involved. "Oh Acey! Uhm, you mean the letter Riddle gave you two-"
"Yes!" Deuce interrupts in earnest, already trying to barrel his way to proving his innocence. "Housewarden Riddle entrusted us to deliver the tea party invitation ourselves personally." 
Cater turns to Trey, who is rubbing the bridge of his nose, eyes closed with a tiredness that seems comically reminiscent of an old man. "Well, I'm not sure what this is all about, Trey, but maybe you should cut 'em some slack and let it go."
The other senior nods in reluctant agreement and the two freshmen all but nearly trample over each other trying to run from the tension filled room. But they're stopped in their tracks when Trey calls out again.
"Wait, you two." The duo slowly looks back with cautious eyes.
"You wanted to bring something to the prefect, didn't you?" Trey tilts his head to one of the many strange topsy turvey cabinets in the kitchen. "I have some leftover cookies that I made yesterday. Take them. I'm sorry for accusing you guys like that."
Ace and Deuce exchange confused glances, and although Ace looks away in denial, Deuce nods in gratitude. They leave the kitchen just as chaotically, this time with the aroma of lavender following them.
A brief silence follows their absence, while Cater raises an eyebrow at Trey.
"Sooo…care to spill the tea?"
"Don't even start." Trey groans.
Cater seats himself on one of the stools near the counter, waiting. Trey busies himself with cleaning the stoves and counter, trying not to meet Cater's eyes. Silence falls, but it's with none of the comfort that Cater is familiar with. Giving up, he turns to his phone, refreshing his Magicam dash mindlessly. This continues for a good while until finally—
A low sigh, then– "Somebody took my candied violets."
Cater looks up from his phone. Another beat passes, and he realizes it's not a passing statement. 
"It's not like you to get this bent out of shape over your ingredients going MIA." Cater shifts his face onto the elbow meeting pristine marble while shoving his phone away. "You sure that one of the froshes didn't just end up taking them thinking they were for everyone?"
Trey lets out a rough guffaw. "You know better than I do that the others don't touch our stuff."
Cater taps his fingers on the polished white granite, hands already itching to grab his phone and check for updates, but he restrains himself. "That's…mostly true."
"That can only mean one of you guys has taken it." The hairs on Cater's neck raise at Trey's tone.
"Hey now," Cater grins, raising his hands in mock surrender, "you heard it from those two. I was with Riddle when he gave them that invitation."
"I know." Cater's fingers twitch as Trey carelessly tossed aside the rag used to clean the counter into a bucket. The soggy fabric makes a hollow sound against the wood, echoing rather loudly in contrast. "But Riddle would never do such a thing either."
Cater resists the urge to roll his eyes. It's true that their cute housewarden would hardly dare to stoop to thievery, but Trey's blind faith in him can be annoying at times. After all, didn't their little teapot tyrant threaten to kill the prefect at one point?
He supposes that was his fault, though.
"Then it's back to square one." Cater shrugs. "Besides, what were you even planning to do with them if you weren't gonna eat it?"
The baker runs a hand through his mussed forest green hair and frowns. "I was going to bake a cake with them as a peace offering to the prefect."
Cater's mouth forms an 'o' shape in realization. "That's pretty big brain."
"Yeah, but look how that turned out."
"It's fine~you were able to at least send cookies this time round." Cater finally cracks, digging into his pocket for the familiar grooves of his phone case. "All's well that ends well, right?"
Trey doesn't respond and Cater is too engrossed in his phone to look up to see his expression. He slides off the stool naturally, tapping through recent posts and comments, eyes laser focused on recent posts on his dash. 
"Cater." 
There it is. It's the most recent story reel by Ace(according to the time stamp, about two minutes ago). It's an inconspicuous black out picture with several cute teapot and teacup stickers decorating the screen. The banner message is short and sweet: 'Dorm tea party bout to get real this month 🤔😶'
"Cater." Cater's attention snaps back and towards his friend, who gazes at him with dark eyes.
"Please don't lie to me next time."
With that, Cater watches as his long time friend finally leaves the kitchen. 
Thank the Seven he did. He might have been a decent actor, but Trey has been with him through thick and thin, and it's given him the annoying ability to see through his tells.
Really now. Trey knows that he hates sweets. Shouldn't that be enough of an alibi?
It's not fair that Trey already has everything to set him up for a good relationship with you. Even if they're all set back by their violent reaction to you arriving in this world, he's sure it would only take a couple tries with Trey offering genuine heartfelt food to get to you.
It's just not fair. 
Isn't he fun to hang out with? He consistently gets compliments online for his suave looks and easy personality. So why couldn't he compare to-
He shakes his head. There's no point in overthinking it now. Cay Cay #3 had easily taken the cutely decorated jar of violets and discarded it in the dorm dumpster. Like candy from a baby.
He knows it's petty. But for once, he feels much better, knowing that he upset Trey's original plans to ensnare you.
Now, he once again checks Ace's story reel and screenshots it, while quickly pulling up the search bar. He just needs to level the playing field.
-
There can only be one fake bitch in this house and Cater has had enough of the competition.
“I wasn’t aware that you were going to visit me, Cater.” 
The puppet tilts its head with a warm smile, but there’s a frosty undercurrent to the greeting. It’s clear that he’s not welcome, if the way it’s blocking the doorway of Ramshackle has anything to say.
“Yeah, I ended up losing something here. You mind if I look for it, Yuu-chan?” Cater asks innocently. “Promise it won’t take too long.”
“Hm, sure. But I don’t think you’ll find what you’re looking for.” Yuu's grin is sharp as a razor blade. It knows what he’s here for and it’s definitely taunting him. That little–
“Well, it doesn’t hurt to look~” He responds back airily. His fist curls around his phone in his pocket tightly. The puppet shrugs and walks off, leaving him standing in the doorway.
It’s been a while since he’s personally been at Ramshackle dorm. Cater remembers how Ace complained about the house being a real fixer upper, but then again, he doesn’t remember much of that, since Yuu always spent most of the time at Heartslabyul dorm. The renovations certainly made it much more pleasing to the eye and more importantly, livable by HOA standards.
There’s nothing to write home about the living room. The coffee table is bare and there’s no wrinkles in the sofa cushions at all. It’s a little eerie—as if no one even lived in the house in the first place. The only sign of living was perhaps the fact it is clean of dust or dirt. 
Nothing in the kitchen either. He gives a wayward glance to the second floor, searching for any signs of movement. Couldn’t hurt to be thorough. 
Rows of tall doors pass by as Cater opens each one of them. A storage closet, a spare room, an electric cabinet, another storage area–it all blurs by after the fourth door. There really is nothing, as if the whole house has been wiped of any trace of you. He's about to toss in the towel when an old, dusty memory crops up. His little freshman, Ace. Cater swears he had been making fun of Yuu for seeing strange things at night. Something about a mouse?
Right, their room! Why didn't he think of looking there?  
His feet take him rapidly from memory to the door that was the third from last in the hallway in the east wing. He manages to wrench the door open to see a regular bedroom, bed sheets barely stirred. Before he can even put one foot in, a throat clears behind him. 
"It's rather rude to go into other people's bedrooms, don't you think?"
You got to be kidding me. Cater turns around with the fakest smile plastered across his face. Yuu looks unamused, tapping its foot impatiently against the wooden floorboards. 
"Just wanted to make sure, y'know?" Cater replies. Yuu gives a tight smile back. It goes around him and shuts the door with a hard thunk.
"Ever heard about how curiosity killed the cat?" 
Cater shakes his head in surrender, "I guess I need to look elsewhere for my lost item."
The entrance doors slam shut behind him hard enough to startle several birds out the dead trees in the yard. Cater doesn't bother giving a look back as he strides out of the yard and past the gated fence surrounding the property. That glimpse was enough and much more. Cater smirks to himself, taking his phone out and sending a quick text message to the group chat. Yes, curiosity may have killed the poor kitty cat…
But satisfaction brought it back.
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viiii. Eulogy
It might surprise people to know that Trey Clover's first real friend is Che'nya Pinker.
That's not to say that Trey had trouble getting along with others as a kid, oh no. Everyone in his neighborhood agreed that he was a very sweet boy, who looked out for others around him. When he wasn’t taking care of his baby sister, he would be asked by other parents around the block to look after their own children, whether that be playing soccer games with the more energetic kids or patty cakes with the quiet ones. So it isn’t a stretch to say that he’s friends with nearly everyone. But Che’nya was a special case.
Their first meeting is still burned into Trey’s memory.
“You see it too, don’cha?” The boy had greeted him while swinging upside down on a low hanging tree branch. Trey had half a mind to scold him for the dangerous action before he actually looked at him. 
The first thing that takes Trey off guard is that he has eyes. They’re a shiny yellow, just a shade lighter than his. His pupils are long and thin, not round like his at all. He supposes it must be like a cat’s pupils—for he’s never seen anything like it. Then it’s his unique colorful hair, streaks of light pink intermingling with dark purple, making a strange striped pattern across the chopped uneven hair. Trey faintly recalls a certain cat from their local legends, whose fur boasted those very same colors. 
“...What are you talking about?” Trey eyes him warily. The cat boy gives a cheeky grin. He vanishes and then reappears in front of him, albeit with missing arms.
“The people around us who wear the faces of strangers.” Trey’s skin gets goosebumps at the way the boy observes him. He is not looking through Trey, but at him. Their eyes are directly making contact. “But you’re different. You have the face of a friend.”
“And what do you mean by that?” Trey furrows his eyebrows. The boy's grin stretches wider in response. (His teeth were rather blunter than expected, but his canines were pointed.)
“You’re strange. I’m stranger. Together, we can both be strange,” the cat boy chirps back lightheartedly. “The name’s Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker. But you can just call me Che’nya.”
Something in his mind had clicked then. It’s hard to explain the feeling–just that it felt like a puzzle piece put into place. He hadn’t known it then, but at that point, the hands of fate had moved. 
Whatever the case may be, Trey was grateful to have Che’nya. Because now he knows that he isn’t crazy; not when he couldn’t see his parent’s faces nor his baby sister’s or even his other friends'. Che’nya too, only shrugs his shoulders when Trey asks him about his grandfather.
“The old man? Yeah, they say I have his eyes, but I wouldn’t know.” The statement is so casually delivered that Trey can hardly believe he’s talking about his only living relative and guardian. “His face does not mirror mine in my mind.”
Staring down at you, shivering with cold and hunger, he feels something churn in him again, just like that fateful day. 
He has his orders from Riddle: bring in the imposter alive. Trey isn’t a violent sort and nor does he enjoy boasting his strength over others like a sadist. And he cannot deny the feeling of cold rage that day when Yuu shuts down, fear inundating him that he may never, ever, get an explanation for the world he was born in. Why he and Che’nya were special, why he had to witness Riddle suffer under his mother–what was it all for?
Your face. There is no blank stretched skin—he can see your wide open eyes, bloodshot and fixated on him. Your mouth too, shaped in a pained grimace, lips bruised and bloodied from previous skirmishes. Surely, surely, there must be a reason why you were here. Why you bear the same face as Yuu. You hold all the answers, if you would just cooperate.
“Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Trey tries reaching out, but you scurry back into the hedges, squinted eyes wary and untrusting. You remind him of a frightened hedgehog, prickly spines bristled and body curled in to protect yourself. “I just wanna talk.”
“Go away, please,” the imposter quietly pleads. “Just pretend you never saw me! I swear I didn’t even know how I got here…”
Trey swallows hard. 
“Just come quietly. Please.” He is the one begging now. “It’ll be easier for all of us.”
“For who?” The imposter barks a sharp laugh. Trey doesn't miss the way they wince in pain from their wounds. “For me? Or for you?”
He doesn’t have an answer. The sound of running footsteps has him turning, and when he looks back, you’re already gone. The only traces that you were there at all were faint splotches of red blood and crushed grass.
Trey wonders if this, too, was meant to be fate.
Trey’s been lovingly dubbed as someone reliable. Some consider him to be an older brother figure due to his nagging and supportive care. It's ingrained in him at this point from the years he’s spent playing babysitter. Trey knows the students around him are not his younger siblings who need constant watching (although their actions say otherwise).
But he worries.
Just a bit. Trey knows better than anyone that you can take care of yourself just fine. He's seen how you carry yourself within those hedges. 
It's just that, he doesn't know if you're okay right now. How could he know? You've been silent even in the face of Riddle's unceasing letters. So of course he's just a bit unsure if you're actually okay, or if you don't trust them enough to say so.
Trey finds himself more frustrated with the ban they're under. Not because of the inability to see you, although that is part of it. No, it's because Riddle has managed to skirt around that rule to desperately grab onto you, and that was just enough to wear you down. 
He thinks if he was bold enough, he could've tried.
As if it wasn't enough, even Ace and Deuce find their own way to get to you, snatching up the chance to deliver the monthly tea party invitation. It takes everything in Trey to clench his teeth and let go—even when Cater ruins his plans. He can't get mad here because it won't get him any closer to you. He has to be the bigger person.
If there is one thing Trey knows about Cater, it's that he absolutely hates getting sweaty or dirty. If Cater wasn’t trying to get out of running those P.E laps, he would absolutely be shirking any extra work assigned. So he's more than suspicious when Cater bounces up to him with a grin saying he could help cover Trey's science club duty of watering plants. 
Trey likes to think he can tell when Cater’s lying. His close friend's happy go lucky demeanor often throws off others, but he’s been with him long enough to pick out his subtle tells. His eyebrow twitches when he’s particularly anxious and the corner of his mouth tends to perk up if he’s feeling particularly daring or desperate. Trey figures this must be something that even he can’t trust Trey with, if he’s going out of his way to take on extra work.
So Trey considers this repayment for letting him take his violets. He watches as Cater dashes off in labwear, waiting for a minute, before following after him. His duty was in the tropical zone of the botanical garden, so he has no worries even if he does lose him. 
He nearly does a double take when he sees you walking in the courtyard hallways by yourself. And before Trey could rethink his actions, he follows behind you, eyes not leaving your form for a minute. 
You look like you haven't slept well. There's dark circles under your eyes. He hopes you're brushing your teeth. There’s no signs of bandages or wounds that he remembers you in, which he supposes is one relief. Even if he so desperately wishes to cook you a proper meal—you look like you could fall over at any minute.
The realization your path is leading to the botanical garden comes just as Trey catches sight of the glass dome. He wants to rush in after you, but he stops himself just as the door swings close behind your form.
Cater is in there. It all makes sense now. Trey has to give it to him—Cater really does know every little happening in the school. But Trey knows him well too—and if he had to guess, even if Cater manages to talk to you, it won’t end pretty. His inability to be genuine will definitely only set you on edge and less likely to reciprocate. 
The waiting game he plays is nothing compared to the silence he had to endure before. Trey doesn’t have to look to know that you’re the one slamming open the doors to the botanical gardens, labwear dirtied and face twisted in a frustrated anger. He watches as you enter Professor Crewel’s office again and after some time, pop back out in completely different clothes. 
His chest tightens in longing as he continues to follow after (more from an instinctual drive now, rather than deliberate), trying to keep you in sight within the stone pillars. He wants to call out after you so badly and ask you what’s the matter, if you need help with anything. If there was anything he could do to make you forgive him for watching you bleed out on dewy grass. The sun is about to set, warm golden rays flickering between pillars and casting long shadows. Trey’s so enamored with following after you that he flinches back when the sun directly shines into his eyes, blinding him momentarily. 
He barely manages to get a hold of himself. By the time his eyes blink away the blurry blots, he realizes you’re looking back at him. His breath stops. Your eyes are wide and frightened as they are that day, and his heart drops to his stomach. Both of you don’t move, merely staring at each other. 
You finally break the connection, turning around and quickly walking away. Trey gasps, remembering to breathe, lungs screaming for air. 
What was that?
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x. Entombment
It's a nice sunny afternoon in the Heartslabyul domain. There weren't any track club activities nor dreaded remedial lessons. If anything, this free time would have been perfect for a nap. He hadn’t been up to any large shenanigans like this since the whole fiasco of [First] and Yuu. 
“I don’t think this is a good idea.” 
Ace scoffs, rolling his eyes. “You got a better one, loosey Deucy? If we don’t do this now, then all of us are stuck until Housewarden grows a pair of balls.” 
Deuce Spade bites his lips. “I just think there might be a better way around this.”
“Yeah? And the sky is blue. Keep going, we don't have much time." Ace cranes his neck to the side of the bush, eyes warily looking out to make sure the coast is clear. 
Deuce grumbles but continues plucking, some roses already tucked within his arms. They chose a bush the furthest away from the dorm, in a hidden corner where no arched windows could overlook them. It was necessary, because today was Wednesday, and the Housewarden would have their heads for plucking his beloved roses out of all the flora.
His fingers are bleeding already, finger pads torn from repetitive tugging on the thorns and stems. They couldn’t afford taking any of the gardening tools, lest they be questioned for what they were doing with them. Still, even he had his limits.  
“Why is it that you aren’t helping at all?” Deuce snipes at Ace, who scowls back. 
“You want to be caught by someone, genius?” Ace replies snarkily. “Someone has to keep look out.”
“Doesn’t explain why I have to do all the work.” 
Ace rolls his eyes, deigning not to bother engaging in another futile argument that would lead to nowhere. Deuce is about to cut off a particularly stubborn rose when Ace pipes up again.
“...Did they ever respond to your texts?” Deuce only deflates in response. Ace’s mouth slants crookedly in an annoyed grimace. The two of them know full well what the answer to that was.
“Damn that cat…” Ace mutters bitterly under his breath. Deuce doesn’t say anything. He too, is finding it hard to not feel petty towards Grim right now. Weren’t they friends? He could’ve afforded to help them out somehow. But it’s no use. Their texts went unanswered. Headmaster had banned them from stepping foot onto Ramshackle grounds. It’s like you had closed everything off from them.
It’s why he doesn’t protest this plan, as reckless as it is. He’s not any better than Ace—he needs to see you. He and Ace were your closest friends, your first friends! He loved you. That had to mean something. If it didn’t, then…
“I think this is enough.” Deuce adjusts the messy bouquet in his hands, attempting to hold them without crushing the delicate petals. Ace looks over and nods in approval. He takes out crimson ribbons and a silk handkerchief and begins tying it around the stems in a very artful way that has Deuce’s eyebrows raising.
“Where did you get that?” Ace smirks in response at the interrogative question.
“Don’t worry about it.” Ace snatches the bouquet from his hands and slips in an envelope with the housewarden’s seal. Deuce silences the questions on the tip of his tongue. For whatever Ace has planned, he’s rather not know anything more troublesome than necesscary. 
What he failed to account for was getting caught. Housewarden Riddle was beyond furious for what they did. It was only by Trey and Cater's gentle reminders that what they did was for all of them, that he only calmed down.
Deuce supposes three days with the collar is better than a week. Even if it is a heavy thing that weighs on his very soul.
He only hopes that you don't notice the thorns they forgot to trim.
It’s a given that although Trey is the right hand of Heartslabyul, Cater is considered the left hand of Housewarden Riddle. It’s been that way since Deuce himself enrolled in NRC, and possibly even further back. He hadn’t understood it quite then, but after some time, he realized something that he should’ve realized a long time ago. 
To never get on Cater’s bad side.
There are events where the five of them gather outside of Yuu’s influence. Administrative meetings, monthly tea parties, and the occasional casual hang out. When you’re aware of how much of your life is affected from being not like the others, it’s common to side with those who are like you. 
Cater had called the meeting this time. It was a bit out of the blue, at least for him and Ace. It’s only when they’re all gathered around the playing table in the lounge, not another soul in sight, when Deuce realizes Cater has that gleam in his eye. One that screams that he got a viral lead on a hot topic. His upperclassman must have been investigating.
"Remember how mirrors are considered to be portals?"
Deuce's neck prickles.
"Your point, Cater?" Their housewarden is impatient, not aware of what the question poses. His arms are crossed with his eyebrows furrowed in a frustrated glare. Deuce realizes that he must have been the one to send out Cater.
"There's a mirror in the prefect's bedroom." Deuce blurts out, and Riddle’s steely eyes snap over in surprise. Cater nods in affirmation.
"Yeah. I only managed a glimpse, but Yuu covered their mirror." Cater says. 
“Hold on, you went into the prefect’s bedroom? Scratch that, to Ramshackle?” Ace asks. “Why are we just getting this now?”
“Because I just came back Acey,” Cater flicks his forehead, causing Ace to exclaim in pain. Trey smiles faintly at the action. “Also Riddle told me to keep it confidential—you two would have ran straight out if we had told you.” 
Deuce sheepishly rubs his neck at Cater’s pointed sentence. Riddle rubs his chin in thoughtfulness, eyebrows still furrowed. 
“But there isn’t anything magical about that mirror, is there?” Riddle asks, skepticism coating his tone. “The puppet could have simply covered that mirror out of an odd preference.”
“Acey, didn’t you mention that Yuu always mentioned seeing things in that mirror?” Cater responds, deflecting the question upon his underclassmen. Ace straightens as he and Deuce both exchange a glance.
“Yeah…something about a mouse in their mirror,” Ace answers slowly, face scrunched in an effort to recall memories. “I always thought it was just crazy dreams but…”
“Yuu was always insisting about it,” Deuce chimes in. “Said the mouse speaks to them and everything—that there was another world it was in.”
Trey and Cater share a furtive glance together before looking at Riddle. Their housewarden seems to be taking in the new information, closing his eyes in thought. For a while, no one dares to speak. 
“What do you think, Riddle?” Trey finally breaks the heavy silence, and Deuce breathlessly releases a sigh. Leave it to Trey to speak for all of them.
“If the mirror in the bedroom is magical, then that changes things.” Riddle pronounces with conviction. “If that mirror potentially holds a dimension, then that would be the perfect place to trap someone.”
“Cater.” The orange head straightens to attention at the stern command. “Find a way to get the puppet out of the dorm for a while. We’ll need to look into this ourselves.”
Cater smirks and a chill runs down Deuce’s spine. While Cater still has an easy going look, his jade green eyes have darkened with a sadistic gleam. 
“Roger that, housewarden!” His upperclassman chirps, already taking out his phone. 
Riddle is already barking orders that each of them are to take up within this mission of theirs. But Deuce nearly misses his task, eyes stuck on Cater’s face as he scrolls his phone.
He catches a glimpse of a photo before it’s quickly clicked away. Deuce snaps back to Riddle just in time for Cater to shoot him a wary glare, checking to make sure no one else was looking. 
Deuce is very glad he is working together with Cater.
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sad-ghost-of-garbage · 4 months ago
Text
Nicknames with the Lost Boys
Affectionate and Goofy nicknames for and from the boys
Author: SadGhostofGarbage Warnings: this is a crackfic! It’s only semi serious. There is some NSFW headcannons so MDNI!
David:
David’s nicknames for reader: Kitten, Kitty, Kit Cat, Doll face, Beloved, and My Queen (Yes even as a male reader, David believes himself the King so naturally his partner is his other half despite gender. He regards his partner as the chess Queen to his King; here is a lil blurb of how I see the conversation going, the first time it happens.
Male reader x David: “Um David, why did you call me your Queen? I am a whole grown ass man?” “Beloved, you are the most important piece on my chess board, since I'm clearly the King, you are my other half.” The bastard has the audacity to say condescendingly as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You do realize that means I should be protecting you right?” That wipes the smirk right off his face, and he narrows his eyes at you. “Absolutely not happening”. He says with teeth grit in a firm line. “You are not putting yourself in any danger ever.” “Then by chess standards that makes you the Queen”. It was your turn for the shit eating grin, the expression on his face was priceless. It is definitely one of your favorite ways to tease him from that moment on. If however it causes you discomfort he will refrain from using it. But that doesn’t mean you can’t still tease him with it. You will be punished accordingly after every instance you jokingly call him “my Queen”, but teasing him is half the fun. Side note, Paul tries to help by suggesting you combine the two, “One of you can be, Quee-ing, and the other can be Ki-een. BOOM! Problem solved, you’re welcome!” Spoiler… It does not solve the problem.
Things that David secretly loves being called, its a “secret” because he “doesn’t do nicknames”: Handsome, Cowboy, My King, My one, My love, basically anything that has a possessive edge implying that David is readers everything (Daddy loves to be needed)
Things reader (and the boys) call him that he “hates”: Daviey (Paul’s go to mostly), Marko calls him Daddy as if he were confessing to a Catholic priest during confession; “Daddy I’ve been naughty” instead of “forgive me father for I have sinned”. Chaos ensues and you will catch David chasing Marko around the cave on multiple occasions for this very reason. David won’t admit out loud that he’s okay with his partner calling him Daddy but he does prefer Sir, but if it revs your engines then he will graciously allow you to call him Daddy. Moral of the story… David is a butthead.
Names David actually hates being called: Baby, And any nickname that is overly obnoxious like : Stud muffin, or Pookie.
Dwayne:
Dwayne’s nicknames for reader; Darling, Sweetheart, Baby/Babygirl/Babyboy (if it is Babyboy, just know Paul is jealous), Mama or Nobi for a non gendered version (of a parental name that both he and Laddie call a parental figure reader), Prince/Princess/Princex
Dwayne’s nicknames from the reader and the boys, they are all fair game for D-man: Papa, Big man, D, Snuggle bear, Big Cat, Baby Daddy
Nicknames that are affectionate when it comes from reader, and jokingly when coming from the boys: Gigantus, Tall Dark and Dracula, Skater boy, Dork
Paul:
Paul’s nicknames for Reader: Sugar, babe, bug, Beautiful/Handsome/Gorgeous, Hot Stuff, My cute lil capri sun! If you're still human. Bit will continue to call you that after you become a vamp as well, he just likes biting. (fun fact I looked up when capri-sun came out, the answer? 1969! its cannon!)
Paul’s nicknames from reader and the boys: Paulie, Puppy, Pretty boy, jellybelly~ Paul got high af and cried because his blood wasn’t jelly bean flavored after he ate 12 bags of them. “I wanna be a jellybean damn it” 😭 NSFW: I saw a post going around about sucking Paul’s dick and my brain went… ah a Paulie pop… and now it lives rent free in my head so have that too
Marko:
Marko’s nicknames for reader: Angel, Dove, Love, precious one, Sunshine, Tesoro / my treasure (if you headcannon him as an Italian, as many do 😉) the Juliet to his Romeo if you're a fem reader (until you point out that Juliet was like 13 and Romeo was 16. And comparing your love to that of children was not as romantic as he assumed it was. Those names quickly get abandoned)
Nicknames for Marko: Cassanova, Italian Stallion, Stud, Angel (the first time reader calls him angel you both argue over who gets to call the other angel, and it ends with an intervention from David. “You are both little devils, you brats!” you both continue to call each other angel, and David continues to call you both little devils.)
Nicknames that will get get you (or the boys) in trouble and not the good kind: Cherub, bird boy.
side note, I'd love to hear what nicknames you guys think the boys like being called and call their partners
Taglist: @ria-coolgirl, @britany1997, @henhouse-horrors. If you want added to my Lost Boys taglist lemme know!
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