#i wanted to write more but what is there to say about this movie. it's good. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

madebycloud · 2 days ago

Text

No Erase

violet "vi" x female reader — 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬⠀𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: on valentine's day, and you've finally worked up the courage to write a letter to your crush confessing your feelings. unfortunately, your friend accidentally gives the letter to the one person you can't stand. warnings/themes: fluff, one sided enemies, valentines, kissing cam, angry confessions, fast burn ig, high school, mordern au words: 10.9k

You look at the letter in your desk, which you spent at least six hours working on to make sure it's perfect. Not just to make sure the words you're choosing are perfect, though—you want to make sure your handwriting is perfect enough that it doesn't look sloppy.

You grab the letter and read it over one last time… lovey-dovey bullshit, sappy stuff, romantic nonsense, etc.

You cringe at the last words, “Meet me at the bleachers... recess.”

It's so cliché, so stereotypical, and maybe you've had a couple too many cheesy romance movies in the past month. You've probably read a dozen fanfics that start like this.

If it were done by anyone other than yourself, you'd think it was absolutely dumb and corny as hell.

You know you could just message them through snapchat or on insta, or facebook, even just confessing through their email is a good idea… but, no, you just can't do that.

What if you say the wrong thing? what if you just happen to say something extremely cringy in your message? what if they screenshot it and put it on their story for everyone to see? what if they reply with “who is this...?” what if they start ignoring you?

Plus, you love your phone too damn much, and you know you're gonna end up throwing the damn thing because of the absolute panic you're gonna feel when your finger hits that send button.

You probably should have just sent a carrier pigeon or something… at least they could eat that.

Oh wait.

You forgot one thing.

You look around your room, trying to figure out what you left out. Your penmanship is on point, the words are as romantic as they could be, and the grammar is perfect... but what's missing?

The perfume.

The bottle of perfume is on your dresser, hiding behind the jewelry case. You spray it liberally, making sure the paper absorbs the smell of it, before finally folding it up neatly and placing it in the envelope. You seal the envelope with a kiss to the paper and hope it's the ‘special touch’ that it needs.

The smell is nice, just enough to have the paper absorbing it nicely, but not enough to be overwhelming (even if you love the perfume to death). You also want your recipient to be able to read the letter without cringing.

Okay, now it's really done. It's romantic, it smells good, and it's as perfect as you can get it.

Tomorrow's the day, and you finally feel confident. You have everything ready to go, you just have to figure out how to get your friend to deliver it to your crush's locker.

As you get ready for bed, the only thing you can't stop thinking about is how tomorrow will go.

Will they love the letter? will they finally realize the feelings you have for them and confess their own feelings? who knows?

—

“Come on,” you whine, begging Ekko for the fifth time. “Just do me this favor, please?”

Ekko just scoffs and gestures to the table. “I already told you, I have all of these-” he motions to the dozens of letters in front of him, “-that i'm supposed to deliver for girls that are crushing on Caitlyn.” He sighs. “I can't add any more to my to do list.”

“Please?” you beg, waving the envelope at him. “It's really important.”

Ekko groans and slumps forward, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. “Why can't you just deliver it yourself?”

“It's kinda.. embarrassing… for me to deliver it myself…” You fidget awkwardly.

“Ugh.” Ekko groans again but gives in. “Fine,” he relents, sitting up straight and grabbing the letter from you.

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ekko waves his hand dismissively. He stands up and stretches out, letting out a deep sigh as he does. “Just remind me what locker number it is?” he asks, shoving the letters into his bag.

“Locker number is 13 C,” you reply, watching as Ekko slings his bag over his shoulder and starts walking out of the cafeteria. “It's pretty much right next to Caitlyn's, so you won't be missing it.”

“Got it,” he says, turning around and flashing a grin at you. “See ya later.” He gives you a salute before he disappears.

Finally.

After months of keeping your feelings quiet, your secret would be revealed. You just have to hope that it doesn't blow up in your face.

—

Ekko walks down the hallway, scanning through the numbers above the lockers until he finds the one he's looking for.

Caitlyn's locker.

He scans the area for any sign of Caitlyn, and luckily for him, the coast is clear.

He pulls out the envelopes from his bag, each one slightly crinkled from being stuffed in there. He counts up the total- ten, no, twelve... wait. Fifteen? that's more than he thought, he could have sworn there were less. He dumps all the letters on top of the locker hole.

He looks down at the remaining letter in his hand. Right, that one isn't for her. He sighs and places the letter next to her locker, just like he was told to do.

He gives the locker one last look but doesn't give it a second thought and starts walking away, whistling as he goes.

But... what Ekko didn't know is that instead of placing it into the locker next to it, he accidentally dumped it into 11C, aka, Vi's locker.

—

You wait at the entrance of your school, impatiently bouncing on your feet. Valentine's day is tomorrow, and you can't wait for your crush to read the letter you poured your heart into.

Then, you spot Ekko, and you're quick to greet him. “Hey!” You throw an arm around his shoulders. “So, did you put it in?”

He nods, gesturing to the school doors. “Yeah, I did.”

You sigh, relieved that the letter is in your crush's locker and will likely be seen by them soon. “Thanks.” You give him a squeeze on the shoulder before letting go of him. “I seriously owe you one for this.”

Ekko just brushes you off. “It's nothing.” He shrugs and shoves his hands in his pockets as you start walking into the courtyard. “Just doing my good deed of the day.”

“Mhm, hopefully tomorrow goes as planned,” you say, “I just hope they like it…”

—

Tomorrow finally comes, and it's the day you've been patiently waiting for. Valentine's day.

You're in your first class, waiting for your teacher to come in. You're distracted, your mind racing with thoughts about what your crush thinks of the letter.

Then, someone suddenly sits next to you, and you turn to look at-

“What the hell?” you blurt out, looking at Vi as she makes herself comfortable in the chair.

Vi smirks. “Hey,” she greets.

That smirk alone pisses you off.

You still haven't gotten over the fact that because of her, your grades had taken a nosedive. The two of you had been paired together in science class, and she'd somehow managed to blow up the experiment, all because she wasn't paying attention.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you snap, glaring at her.

She simply glances at you, then back at the desk she's sitting on. “What do you think? I'm sitting.”

The audacity?

“I know that, but why are you sitting next to me?”

“Come on, don't act like you don't know.” She throws in a wink, and your disgust quickly multiplies.

“Excuse me?” you sputter, completely caught off guard by her sudden flirtatious behavior.

“You really gonna act like you don't know?"

“No?”

She scoffs and leans towards you, smirk on her lips. “I mean,” she adds, eyeing you up and down, “I thought you'd be... happy... to see me.”

You're stunned, confused, and quite frankly, grossed out. “Happy to—WHY ON EARTH would I be happy to see you?” you spit out.

She huffs and slumps back into the chair. “Oh wow, thanks for the warm welcome.”

“Well, what did you expect? You haven't exactly been... pleasant to be around.”

She narrows her eyes and opens her mouth to reply but stops short as the teacher enters the classroom.

She finally shuts up, and you're left wondering what just happened. Why in the world is someone who is a pain in your butt cheeks suddenly flirting with you? is there something wrong with her? or has she lost her damn mind?

—

It's recess, and you're sitting on the bleachers, waiting for your crush to show up.

Your palms are sweating, you're starting to worry that your armpits are going to start smelling, you're probably going to end up throwing up on someone's shoes.

The letter was probably too much. The words were too romantic. The whole cliché “meet me at the bleachers” thing was just cringe. Who wrote that? oh right... you did.

But even if the outcome isn't what you hope for, at least you've got a good story to tell later or maybe a good reason to drown yourself in ice cream and cheesy rom-com movies.

You look around the bleachers once, twice, three times. You try to avoid glancing at your phone, but the urge to check the time only grows stronger.

It doesn't help that a couple of assholes are sitting a few feet away from you, loudly laughing at some video playing on one of their phones.

Recess is almost over, and your crush is still not here. Where the hell are they?

Maybe they could possibly be in the bathroom, having a nervous breakdown like you were? or maybe they're just taking their sweet time, making sure they're looking perfect?

Or maybe they're not coming at all.

And then you hear footsteps coming your way,

THIS IS IT.

Is your hair okay? yes. Are your teeth brushed? yes, dumbass.

You quickly wipe your sweaty palms, trying to calm your racing heart. You turn around, ready to see the face of an angel, the face of a goddamn god-

But instead you see the face of someone you'd rather shove into a brick wall.

Vi.

Why the hell is she... smiling at you?

“Damn, you look good from this angle.”

WHAT?

Why is this goddamn lesbian here with that stupid smile on her face?

“Why are you here?”

“Isn't it obvious? I'm here to see you.” She pulls out an oddly familiar envelope from her pocket and holds it in her hand, and you realize why it's so familiar.

Wait... that's your letter!

The one you wrote to your crush. The one that's meant to be in their locker, not in her damn hands.

How the hell did it end up with her?

She looks at the envelope, studying the handwriting on it, and then her eyes lock with yours again. “This is yours, right?”

Your hand quickly snatches the envelope from her hand. “How the fuck did you get that?”

Vi quickly snatches the envelope away, holding it out of your reach. “Whoa, woah, wait-”

“Give me that!” You lunge for the envelope, but she sidesteps you.

Vi laughs, holding the envelope away from you. “Isn't this for me?” She opens the envelope and throws it aside, then pulls out the letter and starts reading it aloud. “Dear... what the hell, how do you... whatever. Dear blah, blah, blah, happy valentine's da-”

“-SHUT UP!” You try to snatch the letter again.

“Hey, I'm not done reading it yet! This is my valentine's gift, after all.”

“That letter is meant for someone else!”

“Really? Then why did I find it in my locker?”

“Wait, what? You found it in—you're joking, right?”

She shakes her head, waving the letter in front of you. “Nope, I'm not joking.”

“How did you-”

“Someone put it in my locker.”

“That's impossible! I would never—I mean to you? there's no way that was meant for you.”

Vi squints at the words in the letter, then looks up at you again. “But this is definitely written in your handwriting, right?”

How did it end up in her locker? and how the hell does she even know what your handwriting looks like?

Your eyes dart from the letter in her hands to her face. Yes, it's definitely your handwriting. Yes, it's definitely the same stupid letter you wrote because you're a hopeless romantic.

“Maybe,” you grumble.

“Maybe? so it is yours?”

You avoid her gaze, avoiding her smug look.

She starts reading over the letter again, reading it aloud. “Meet me at the bleachers, how goddamn cliché-”

“STOP READING IT!”

“Damn, I didn't think you could be this corny.”

“Shut up, just-” You try to snatch the letter out of her hand once again, but she pulls her arm away.

“You wrote this much for someone?”

“Why do you care so damn much, anyway? You didn't get a valentine gift or something?” and now you're just being bitchy as well.

“What are you, ten?” she retorts.

“And what are you, an idiot?”

“I'm not an idiot, unlike you.”

“Oh, wow, are we back in sixth grade now?”

She looks down at the letter. “I'm not the one who wrote a heartfelt letter for someone who probably doesn't even like you.”

“And how the hell would you know?”

“Have you even talked to them before?” She lifts her head, her smirk coming back when you didn't answer. “Since whoever the hell you have a crush on doesn't like you-”

“They could still-”

“See, everyone has a valentine. Well, almost everyone, which means your crush probably got one too.”

“Yeah, 'cause you got that letter they were supposed to receive.”

“Maybe I was meant to have it then.”

“You're seriously that sure that the universe wants you to have this?”

“Maybe it's a sign.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Are you just dumb on purpose?”

She grins. “I'm not doing it on purpose, and maybe it's a sign that I should be your valentine, that the universe is trying to tell you something.”

You roll your eyes. “Wow, so confident. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you're actually serious.”

“And what if I am serious?” You look at her blankly as she shrugs. She actually thinks she's funny. “I mean, you don't have a valentine, which does kind of suck, and I don't have one, which is by choice, by the way, so I think the universe is clearly telling us something.”

What the actual hell is wrong with her today? she didn't get enough sleep or something, and now she's acting like... like this? this is weird.

She's being weird.

“What, is the universe now trying to set us up? really? we're gonna get a movie based off this?”

“Hey, no one said this was a movie, maybe it's just a cute little high school romance,” she argues back. “Plus, you put a lot of work into this letter, and I'd hate for it to go to waste.”

“I'm not in the mood to start a cute little high school romance with you, okay?”

She heaves a dramatic sigh. “Look,” she says, holding up a hand to stop you from replying, “it's valentine's day, right? and we both don't have anyone, so it's just... for today, we can, you know... see what happens, and if it doesn't work out, then we can just leave it alone and go back the way we were.”

You blink slowly. “That sounds worse than your whole ‘the universe wants us together’ bullshit.”

“Wow, don't act like the idea of it is so awful. I mean, I'm not that bad, right?”

You're going to disagree with that with every single cell in your body, but you decide not to, instead, you just remain silent.

Vi seems to take your silence as agreement because she gives you this insufferable smirk like she just won something.

She continues. “It makes sense if you think about it. We're both single, you're already in a lovesick mood because of this,” she gestures at the letter, “so if we do, you know... we can get it out of your system, and you won't have to spend the rest of the school year pining over some person who is probably ignoring you anyway.”

Why is she making some sense? no, why is she sounding like... a good option all of a sudden?

“It's just for today,” she reminds you again. “We'll just see where it goes. Who knows, you might actually have some fun with me.”

This feels like you're cheating on your crush for even entertaining this stupid plan.

“You're basically saying that we're going to spend one day together and then you'll ditch me?” you retort.

“No, that's not what I'm saying,” she corrects you. “I'm saying we're gonna spend one day together, and if it doesn't work out, then we go our separate ways. It's just one day, it can't hurt. It won't be such a big deal.”

“I'm not going to be your one day entertainment.”

“Who said you'd be my entertainment?” She rolls her eyes, shaking her head at you. “You and I both know you have no other options. What're you gonna do instead, go home and cry over this person who doesn't even know you exist, or just spend the day wallowing in self pity while the rest of the school is celebrating love and stuff with their actual valentines?”

You wince at her harsh words because... she's got a point.

You don't have anyone to spend this day with, and the person you'd want to spend it with will probably spend it with someone else... so yeah, you have no plans, and yeah, you're probably going to just go home and wallow in self pity, wishing that today was over already.

What would happen, actually? if you go along with her stupid plan. You could finally have an escape from pining over your stupid crush who probably doesn't even notice you.

“Fine.” You snatch the letter back from her.

“Wait, what? really?” She's actually surprised. No wonder, she's the one who came up with this stupid plan in the first place.

“I am,” you say, “you don't want me to?”

She huffs out a laugh. “No, no, of course not. I just… didn't expect you to actually agree.”

“And why is that?”

“I don't know, I figured you'd still have a little bit of decency left in you.”

What a backhanded compliment. “I have plenty of decency left in me, it's you who I'd question, and besides... it's just for today.” You fold the letter and shove it into your pocket.

Vi hums, not taking that offense to your comment. “Just today,” she repeats. “Then tomorrow, boom, everything goes back to normal.”

You nod. “Back to normal.”

“I could kiss you right now.”

Whoa woah woah. Calm down. “Ew, what?”

“I didn't say I will kiss you,” she points out, “I said I could.”

You could say something mean to her words, you could try to change the subject or you could just walk away and forget this conversation ever happened.

But what you actually say is, “What's stopping you then?”

You hate how that sounds so casual. It wasn't meant to come out like that. What the hell?

You're not entirely sure, but something is definitely encouraging you to keep this going. Is it because you find everything she does annoying or that you've been pent-up over your stupid crush lately and you need to get it out of your system?

Vi raises an eyebrow at your words. “You want me to kiss you?” The words drip out of her mouth, like honey on a spoon.

“No,” you reply on instinct, because of course not.

But you can't stop the way your eyes flicker down to look at her lips. You look back at her face, and you know damn well she saw you look down at her lips, but she doesn't say anything about it.

“So now that it's official... you're my valentine, and today, we're going to have the shittiest, most awesome date-” she coughs, “-i mean hangout, that you'll ever have.”

“I doubt it.”

“Hey,” she says, “don't underestimate me, okay? I know how to have a good time,” and then she, god help you, she winks at you.

She looks like she's about to say something more, but she stops when the bell rings.

“Meet me at the parking lot after class?” she asks.

You find yourself nodding. “Yeah, sure.” You look at the field for a second and then look back, just so you can catch her reaction—and it's not at all what you were expecting. She's... blushing?

It's subtle, more subtle than you'd think, but her cheeks are definitely red, and when she realizes you notice her, she looks away.

She looks embarrassed.

She's embarrassed?

“Anyway, see you there... valentine.” She doesn't look at you. “Try not to miss me too much.”

What? miss her? She sounds like she's trying to joke about it, but something about the way she says it sounds sincere? What the fuck?

She starts to walk away. You're pretty sure you see another smile on her face, and if you didn't like her so much, you'd probably like how she looks when she does.

But you remind yourself, this is Vi.

The same Vi you've known for years, the same Vi who made your grades worse because of a stupid experiment, the same Vi who you'd probably love to throw out the nearest window if you could, and the same Vi you can't stand.

You force yourself to turn away, and you start to walk back to the school building. You try to push the image of her stupid blushing face and her stupid pretty smile out of your brain because you are not... going to make the mistake of being attracted to her.

—

Time passes by more slowly than a snail.

What's the saying...? ‘A watched pot never boils?’ You're pretty sure you could watch paint dry, and it would move at a faster pace.

Why is time passing so slowly today?

You're not sure if it's because you have this... ‘hangout’ to expect at the end of the day or if it's because you keep getting distracted by the thoughts of what is going to happen later.

What you do know is that you end up spacing out way too much more than a person should.

Thankfully, you don't have any homework, but your notes for the day are just absolutely horrible, a mindless mess of scribbles and pointless words. You're definitely going to regret this later.

The last bell mercifully rings just as you're in the middle of doodling a small sketch of Vi's face in the corner of your notes.

You quickly shut your notebook and stuffed everything into your bag.

You need to find your goddamn common sense first, but it seems to have left the room before you could.

The hallway is a goddamn mess.

Kids are running everywhere in the halls, screaming loud as hell, some girl is trying to stuff her locker to the point where it's going to explode, and some kid has got a goddamn boombox and is blasting music from it. There's the hallway drama that everyone loves listening to even though they should be minding their own business.

Seriously, it feels like you're in the middle of a goddamn jungle with the amount of people screaming.

Walking to the parking lot takes longer than it usually would. When you get there, you see a familiar head of pink hair leaning against a red motor, scrolling through something on her phone.

She hasn't noticed you yet, and you find yourself unable to move your feet for a second.

She's just leaning back against the motorcycle, lazily swiping through something on her phone. She's even biting her lower lip slightly, and for some reason, you really don't know why that's such a good look on her.

Okay, what?

You need to stop letting your brain run away with these thoughts.

You are not going to act like a middle school idiot who just got caught looking at her crush or something. You're an intelligent, mature human being. You're definitely not some dumb kid with an embarrassing crush either. Definitely not.

The sunlight makes her glow, and when she looks up from her phone, you feel you're hit with a wave of goddamn sun poisoning because the sunlight hitting her eyes makes them shine.

She looks over and sees you, shoving her phone into her pocket. She gestures you over with a slight jerk of her head.

You force your feet to start cooperating and get your ass over there.

“Glad you came.”

What kind of response would even be the right one for that? “Me too” would sound too enthusiastic. “Yep” sounds so disinterested, like you'd rather be anywhere else than here, when that might be partially true, but you're not trying to sound like a dick. “Same here” sounds like such a sarcastic tone, and “Of course I'm here, you're the one who forced me into this” would sound too rude.

Instead, you just say nothing, which she notices, of course.

“What, no smart shits today?”

“I have nothing to say to you,” you mutter as you turn your attention to the red motor behind her. You notice the scuffed up leather seat and the worn tires.

You then glance around the parking lot, wondering how many times you've seen this before. The motorcyclist who's always late to class, the seniors who smoke too much and are always ditching school, the students with cars who love to show off the brand new car their parents gave them, and the popular girls gossiping about some poor girl who can't afford nice clothes.

The sound of a motorcycle engine starting snaps you out of your thoughts, and you look up to see Vi getting onto the motorcycle

She pats the back seat behind her. “You getting on or what?”

“...is it like fast?”

“Is it like fast?"” she mimics in a childish tone before rolling her eyes. “Yeah, it's fast. Get on it and find out.”

“I just asked a question, no need to be a dick.”

“Are you always this bitchy?” she asks, then throws you a helmet. “Put this on.”

You catch the helmet, and you put it on. “Only around you.” You approach the motor and try not to comment on the poor condition and instead climb on behind her.

You have no idea what to do with your legs, so for a few seconds, you just awkwardly sit behind her, trying to position yourself like riding a horse.

“Are you gonna hold on?” Vi calls out.

“Hold on to what?”

“Me, dumbass. Grab my waist.”

“Hell no.”

“It's for your own safety.”

“I'm fine,” you shift around, trying to find a comfortable position.

Vi seems to start losing her patience with you. “If you want to fall off the bike mid ride and splatter onto someone's yard like a squashed bug, be my guest.”

That gets you to hold onto her waist out of pure spite.

“Just don't squeeze my abs too tight. I still need air.”

You scoff. “Who the hell is so narcissistic that they think something as simple as that would affect me?”

She huffs, amused by your snark, and puts on her own helmet. “It's not narcissism. It's just a joke,” she retorts.

You scoff again, but your hand tightens around her waist reflexively.

She chuckles. “Knew you couldn't resist.”

You pinch her waist. “Just shut up and drive.”

She snorts. “Touchy, aren't we?”

“Yeah, I am,” you reply sarcastically, pinching her waist again.

“Hey!” she exclaims, then sighs. “Okay, fine. I'll stop, just stop it.”

She starts the motor, and the hum of the engine vibrates throughout your body. It's louder being sat on top of the thing compared to how it sounds when you're on the ground. You feel this rumble throughout your chest, and you really want to comment on the poor thing making that much noise.

“Just hold on tight.”

—

“FUCK YEAH! WOOO!” you shout, punching the air with your fist and standing up. It's hockey, but who cares? you're not a fan, not in the slightest, but you're still screaming and cheering, all in a bid to support the team.

Vi is right beside you, shouting as well, while she eats a hot dog and washes it down with soda. “I thought you hated hockey!” she shouts over the crowd's cheers.

You shrug, but it's impossible to respond. You can't hear each other over the sound of the audience's cheers.

A few of the people sitting in the same section as you give you some weird looks, like you suddenly went insane. Well, can you really blame them? it probably looks like you have the sudden urge to yell random things for no reason.

Vi is the only one who doesn't look at you like you're some lunatic, her gaze is focused on the game, all while cheering, and occasionally making comments about the players.

It's different compared to watching it on TV. You're actually there, in person, surrounded by people who share your excitement and are as loud as you or louder.

You're also next to the most annoying person ever, but you don't want to dwell on that.

You drop down, back into your seat, and lean back, stretching your legs out. Your thighs and legs are starting to feel like jelly from all that screaming and standing. “Damn,” you tell her, shaking your legs. “I think I just strained a muscle or something.”

Vi laughs and sits down on her seat. “You know, I've been around here for years now. I probably know some people here.” She glances around the crowd of people, scanning them like she's trying to find someone in particular.

“Oh yeah? who's that in the third row then?”

She follows the direction of your finger and immediately points at a random person. “That's Fred! I once went to elementary with him.”

You have no idea if she's making that up or not. “And what about the guy next to him with the big hat?”

Vi squints at the section you pointed at. “That's George.” She then points at a girl with a black jacket. “That's Sneha,” she pauses, her eyes catching someone in the distance, “and oh-” her hand abruptly changes direction, pointing forward, “-that's Jenny,” she says, waving her hand. “Yo, Jen!”

The old lady turns around and nods her greeting. “Hi sweetheart, how's it going?”

“Doing good, gramps. Just watching the game with this one.” She nudges at you.

The old lady turns to look at you, her face taking the form of a smile. “Ah, a girlfriend, I see.”

Girlfriend? What's she talking about? “Um, no. Just a friend.”

Vi's eyebrows rise as her whole mouth goes ajar. “Friend?” she repeats, “We're friends now?”

“Only for today. Don't get used to the idea.”

The old lady hums. “Is that so? well, enjoy the game, children.”

“Yeah, yeah, we will,” Vi responds to the old lady, and once the lady turns back to watch the game, she leans in close, bumping her shoulder into yours. “That's Jen. She's basically the team's grandma,” Vi explains. “She's been here for years, goes to almost every game.”

You watch the lady continue to watch the game. “So she's like a regular here.”

“Yeah, sometimes she talks about how things were better in ‘her day.’”

“You two seem close though,” you point out.

“She's old and friendly,” she says, scratching her cheek. “Plus, old ladies are always fond of me. I helped her one time with her groceries after one game, and now she thinks I'm a sweetheart.” Vi shrugs, taking another bite of her hotdog. “She's also a nice lady. Always has candy and stuff to give out to everyone.”

“Candy, huh?”

“Yep,” she swallows and smacks her lips to get any food out from her mouth. “She always has peppermint discs, peppermint sticks, and chocolate sticks in her bag.”

“Why do you know that?”

“Everyone knows that.”

“Why does she have candy anyway?”

Vi takes another bite. “Just something she likes to give out,” she says, between chews, then points at the old lady's lap. “That blue thing she's knitting is actually a hat. She likes to give that out too.”

“Really?”

Vi shrugs again, eating yet another mouthful of her food, still somehow managing to speak at the same time. “Yeah, and don't be fooled by the knitting and the candy. She could beat you in a game of arm wrestling. She's still really buff.”

You nod silently, impressed with this old lady.

When Vi swallows the last bit of her hotdog, she pulls out her phone and points it at you. “I'm gonna take a picture of you... and put it on Tinder.” The second the camera's click sounds off, it takes everything in you to not grab her phone and throw it across the goddamn stadium.

She continues taking pictures, each time saying something different, like, “Look at this one,” or “This one's really good.” She holds up the phone, showing you a picture that's... actually not half bad. But you know giving her that reaction would just fuel her to do more, so instead, you scoff.

You turn your attention back to the stadium, trying to ignore whatever she's doing beside you. You look around. There are a surprising amount of men, guys, dudes, bros, etc. It's like they outnumber the women.

“There's a lot of dudes in here,” you comment. “Is it a testosterone fest over here, or what?”

Vi looks around as well. “Yep.”

“Do you think any of these guys like girls who love sports?”

Vi snorts. “Nah,” she replies, shoving her phone back into her pocket. “They're more interested in a girl who looks good in a jersey and knows how to bring them a cold beer.”

“So… basically they're only interested if we look cute and we don't open our mouths?”

“Pretty much.”

You groan. “I hate guys like that.”

“Hey, some guys aren't that bad,” she remarks.

“Yeah, and they're the ones in relationships.”

She thinks about it for a moment. “You know�� I'm surprised you're not in a relationship.”

You give her a weird look. “Why?”

“Well, you're... y'know… cute.”

Is that a compliment or a fact? you are cute, you're aware of that, but still, it's weird how she said it and... did it look like there was a hint of something else in her tone of voice when she said that?

You force a smile, trying to brush it off. “Thanks.”

You both sit in silence for a moment, a silence you really want to fill with literally anything else than this weird awkwardness.

Just when the awkward silence couldn't possibly get more awkward, a sudden cheer from the crowd interrupts your thoughts. They're all looking up at something on top of the stadium. You furrow your brows before looking up, trying to see what it is they're looking at.

Your eyes land on the huge TV that's attached to the ceiling, and you see the words ‘KISSING CAM’ flashing in bright letters. The camera pans through the crowd, searching for a couple, and it lands on a couple who's sitting not too far from you.

“KISS! KISS! KISS!” You look over at Vi and see her cupping her hands over her mouth. She's standing up and shouting at the couple to kiss.

You watch as the girl looks up and sees the camera pointed towards her and her boyfriend. She whispers something to him, and it doesn't take a genius to know what she just said. The guy grins and leans in, giving his girlfriend a sloppy, wet kiss.

The crowd goes crazy, cheering and whistling. The couple pulls away from each other, both of them smiling.

You look at Vi again, who's still standing up. She seems to be enjoying this a lot more than you are, and you can see hearts in her eyes.

Once it seems like the camera has recorded enough footage, it moves to the next couple.

It goes to a couple sitting not too far away from you. The guy looks uncomfortable, but his girlfriend is completely eager to show some public affection. She grabs his chin and kisses him, but it’s only a quick, chaste kiss.

Vi yells out, “Come on, put some effort into it!” and then she sits down, leaning back in the chair.

The camera pans through the crowd again, skipping over several couples until finally landing on a group of guys. They look like they're having the time of their life, yelling at the camera and making rude gestures.

“Ah, boys…” an older man next to you sighs.

The camera captures the guys for a while, they're all laughing and having a good time.

The camera moves away from the group of guys and lands on Vi and a girl sitting right next to her.

Vi immediately makes some hand gestures, shaking her head and probably saying no. “We're not-” but before she can finish, the camera moves away from them, unsatisfied with this answer, and lands on the other girl sitting next to Vi.

You.

Fuck.

“KISS! KISS! KISS!” you hear someone, it sounds like the same person who cheered on the other couples.

You look over at Vi, who's watching you with this stupid smile on her face. You glare at her, she's clearly enjoying this way too much.

You lean over to her, through clenched teeth, you hiss, “This isn't funny.”

She shrugs, still smiling. “I think it is.”

“Well, I don't.”

“It's only a kiss.”

“It’s still embarrassing.”

“Oh come on, it's Valentine's Day!” she replies. “What? are you worried that you'll suck at kissing or something?”

“Excuse me? I am an excellent kisser.”

“Oh yeah?” She quirks an eyebrow. “Then why are you so worried about this? it won't be some gross open mouth kiss, it'll be just a little peck.”

You narrow your eyes at her. “Because I don't want to be seen kissing in public, in front of hundreds of people,” you say, lowering your voice, “And I definitely do not want to kiss you.”

“Come on, you don't have to sound so disgusted by the idea of kissing me.”

“Because I am,” you say simply. “I don't want to kiss you anymore than you'd want to kiss me.”

“I never said I didn't want to kiss you.”

That statement takes you by surprise, you had just assumed that she would be grossed out by the thought of kissing you.

The chants start to get louder as more and more people join in. “KISS! KISS! KISS!”

You hear the same guy from before. “Kiss! c'mon! it's just a quick kiss, do it.”

You hear another girl from behind you. “Oh, come on! one little kiss! what's the big deal?”

It's no big deal.

But at the same time, you're starting to panic. You don't even know how to act right now, are you supposed to play along with this? are you supposed to ignore it? what the hell is happening?!

Your brain is starting to mush into mush because why are so many people chanting? why are they making such a big deal out of this? it's just a kiss, right? right… so why are you so nervous?

You turn your head to see Vi looking at you, her eyes staring into your soul.

“A kiss on the cheek will do,” she says aloud.

You're going to die.

Your heart is going to explode right here, in the middle of the stadium, and then your guts are going to spill out right in front of everybody.

Maybe it's best just to get this over with?

All you have to do is... just a kiss on the cheek. That's it.

You just have to get it over with before this turns into something bigger.

You're not really gonna enjoy this, you'd just get the feeling like you should have brushed your teeth harder in the morning.

Vi's not even attractive in the way that you would want to kiss her cheek, her skin probably sucks from waking up in the mornings, there's no way she remembers to wash her hair at least three times a week. What about her breath? There is no way that she actually brushes her teeth every day. Her breath probably tastes like stale cheetos and mountain dew. There is no way you're gonna get a single bit of pleasure from kissing her cheek.

But you do it anyway.

You press a kiss on her cheek, and it's... warm, and they burn under your lips. The smell of her body spray isn't overwhelming. It's subtle and pleasant. Her hair isn't as greasy as you imagined, and it feels kinda nice when your fingers brush against the side of her face. Her breath doesn't even smell like mountain dew and cheetos, it's actually minty and fresh, like she just ate a pack of gum.

You pull your face away before you let your brain get to you, but you just keep looking at her face because there is this huge grin plastered on her face that makes your heart beat faster. Her cheeks look red, and the tips of her ears are even red too.

The crowd goes nuts. You can barely hear the music or the announcers over the chanting. The kiss had lasted all but a few seconds, but the feeling on your lips linger.

You're both looking at each other like you've just seen each other for the very first time.

She's actually gorgeous.

How is it possible that you only now realized how beautiful she looks?

You look away, but even in your peripheral vision, you can see her looking at you. There's still a stupid grin on her face, and she looks happy.

She's actually happy that you kissed her on the cheek.

—

You and Vi are sitting in the parking lot after the game ends. Vi had bought some $5 pizza, but since the place is packed, you're now sitting in the parking lot with Vi's motorcycle parked behind you.

“I'm gonna be honest,” Vi starts, her face twisted up as she chews on a slice of pizza. “This is the best meal I’ve ever had.”

You hum, nodding along.

Vi takes another bite, a big one, and chews on it, her cheeks stuffed. She swallows and sighs contently. “Man, I should have bought two boxes,” she grumbles, looking down at the one last slice left in the box. Then, she looks up, straight at you, and grins. “You want the last slice?” she offers, holding up the box with the slice still left in it.

You shake your head, and she looks at you with skepticism. “Are you sure you don't want it?”

“I had three slices already, I'm fine.”

Vi looks at the slice of pizza that's still in the box, then at you. She looks like she's considering something, then shrugs and pops the slice into her mouth. “Suit yourself,” she says, the words garbled since her mouth is still full of food.

Something about this moment feels... comfortable. Strangely comfortable.

It's weird. You don't understand why you don't feel threatened or uncomfortable or annoyed or any of those things, even though she's sitting right next to you.

But, oddly enough, you feel safe.

Or maybe that's just because you can't think of anything to say.

Or maybe it's because the silence isn't awkward.

Or maybe it's because you're distracted by the way she seems to enjoy her food.

Because... it's so... weirdly satisfying, watching her chew her food, watching her swallow, watching her use the back of her hand to wipe off the sauce on her chin.

You have no idea why you're paying attention to those little details.

But... you are.

You're not sure when you started paying attention to those.

You're not sure why you feel so comfortable around her right now.

You're not sure of a lot of things, actually.

You're not sure how to feel at the moment, or when your dislike of her had dwindled down to... whatever the hell this is, to whatever this weird, unfamiliar feeling in your chest is.

You're not sure why the corners of your lips keep trying to twitch upwards every time she makes some stupid face.

You're not sure why you're fine sitting in the freezing cold of the parking lot. Not even on the motorcycle, but on the cold ass ground, just sitting behind the motor, back leaned against it.

You're just fine sitting here, and you're just fine knowing that after this, you'll have to go back home and deal with a bunch of bullshit again.

You don't get it.

What changed?

She used to get on your nerves, and you used to get on hers.

She's still the same, isn't she?

And you're still the same.

Everything, suddenly, feels... different.

The air feels different, the atmosphere feels different, the whole world feels different.

The only thing that hasn't changed is her.

Well, no, that’s a lie.

She has changed.

She feels different.

She's not the same girl you can't stand.

And you're not the same girl she can't stand.

Everything is just different.

Maybe the two of you had changed.

But you're not sure how.

You're not even sure when you started noticing it.

But those little details about her, those little behaviors and quirks and habits that you used to find irritating and annoying… they're not bothering you anymore.

She's still a pain in the ass, but she's... well, a tolerable one.

For now.

You don't understand.

Or, rather, you won't allow yourself, at least not yet.

Because you're not sure how to process everything.

And, honestly, you're afraid to even try.

You look at her, still eating on the slice of pizza, and there's a small smear of sauce on the corner of her mouth. “You've got something on your face.”

She tilts her head. “I do? Where?”

Your eyes slowly move down, from her eyes to her nose, and then... her lips. Then, you notice something... freckles. She has freckles. little ones, spread across the bridge of her nose and cheeks, and they're… really cute, really, really-

What in ever loving hell are you thinking?

“Hello? you alive over there?”

You snap out of it. You're not about to let her see you be weak just because she happens to have a pretty face. “You had something right… here,” before she can respond, you raise your hand, reaching for her cheek. You wipe the sauce off the corner of her mouth with your thumb. Your thumb accidentally brushes against her lower lip, and something in your chest twitches.

Vi freezes, her eyes widening as you touch her lips.

Everything feels... slower.

You can hear the sound of her breathing as she exhales, how it hitches when you brush your thumb along her lower lip.

You don't know how, or when, but you find yourself leaning closer to her, your hand still cupped on her cheek.

Her gaze flicks to your lips, her own parting slightly.

...

Holy shit.

You snatch your hand away, realizing what you just did.

Damn it, what the fuck?

You quickly stand up, trying to regain your composure. “I-” Your voice comes out as a croak. You clear your throat, trying to sound normal. “I should... get home. I think it's getting late.”

Vi is still sitting on the ground, and then she shakes her head, as if waking herself up. “...right. Yeah, it is getting late.” She slowly stands up.

“I... umm…” you start awkwardly. “I should-”

“I'll... drive you home,” she interrupts whatever you were about to say.

Your head snaps up, surprised by the offer. “What? You don't have to-”

“I want to.” Her tone leaves no room for argument, so you shut your mouth. You don't want to prolong this weird, confusing moment anyway.

—

Vi's motorcycle comes to a stop in front of your house. The engine making that clunky, sputtering sound before it finally dies.

“We're here,” you say, trying to break the awkward silence that has been between the two of you since you got on the motorcycle.

You manage to finally slide off the motorcycle, but unfortunately, you're still attached to the helmet. You attempt to unbuckle the chin strap, but the damn thing seems to be glued to your head.

“Ugh, this piece of crap,” you mutter, struggling with it.

“Here, let me-” she cuts in, reaching for the straps.

“No, I got it,” you insist.

“I know you can, but let me.”

You glare at her, feeling stubborn, but it's not like you're getting anywhere. “Fine.” You let your hands fall to your sides as she reaches for the straps.

She unbuckles it with ease, finally freeing your head from its confines.

You take the helmet off and give it to her, trying to not make eye contact. “Thanks.”

There's a moment of what could be an awkward silence before you both speak at the same time.

“So-”

“I-”

You cough awkwardly. “Go ahead.”

“No, you can speak first-”

“No, no, I insist. Go ahead-”

“I'm fine-”

“Stop being stubborn-”

“Says you-”

“Yeah, I am stubborn-"

“Shut up-”

“Make me-”

What did she say? Was that... an invitation?

“Are you challenging me-”

She snorts. “Pfft, no, that-”

“Then why would you say something like that?”

“I don't know, thought it'd be funny.”

“It wasn't.”

“It was a little funny.”

“No, it wasn't,” you scoff. “Whatever. You were saying?”

“Oh, yeah,” she replies, shifting on the motorcycle. “I just wanted to say…” Her gaze shifts from you to the side, then back to you. “I just wanted to... say that I had... fun today. Yeah…” She shrugs. “What about you? what were you sayin'?”

Huh. “I guess it wasn't the worst thing that ever happened to me.”

“Wow,” she says, deadpan. “So glad you're not completely miserable being around me.”

“Don't get your hopes up too high, it's just for today, remember?” you remind her.

“Yeah, I remember, I'm not an idiot.”

“Could have fooled me,” you retort, and a smirk makes its way to your face.

“Watch it,” she warns, the corners of her mouth curving upwards. “I'm only tolerating you today.”

“The feeling is mutual,” you quip back.

The two of you share a look and then start laughing. You're glad she's starting to loosen up a little.

“Alright alright, truce?” She holds out her fist.

You roll your eyes but bump your fist with hers anyway. “Truce.”

There's another silence, but it doesn't feel... awkward like the last ones.

Then, she speaks up, “Well... I guess I should go.”

“Yeah,” you reply. “I guess you should.”

“See you at school, then?”

“Unfortunately,” you grumble. You take a step back, getting ready to turn around and head to the front door.

“Hey,” she suddenly says.

You glance back at her, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Can I…” she starts, then hesitates, “...can I ask you something?”

You shrug. “Yeah, go ahead.”

“Just... promise me you won't be mad,” she hedges, not quite looking at you directly.

“I'm not promising anything-”

“Just... humor me.”

“Fine. I promise I won't get mad.”

She takes a deep breath. “Do... do you… do you actually hate me?” You're silent for a moment, trying to find the words, but she starts backpedaling. “Ugh, never mind, I shouldn't have asked, forget it, it doesn't matter-”

“No, no-" you interject, “I don't- I don't hate you.”

“You don't?”

“No... I don't hate you.”

“You sure?” she presses, leaning forward on the motorcycle, resting her arms on the handlebars. “Then why are you always so pissy whenever you're around me?”

“I dont-” you start, then stop. “I'm not-” you start again and stop again. “Remember that time in science lab?”

“When we lit the bunsen burner, the table caught on fire, we got three detentions, and everyone thought we were going to be expelled?” she recalls.

“Yes… that time.”

“Seriously? that was months ago.”

“I never said I was the most forgiving person.”

“It was a mistake,” she points out. “I didn't mean to do it, I was just being stupid.”

“It was still your fault. You didn't look at the instructions.”

“I was distracted,” she counters.

“By what, your big brain? cause you definitely weren't paying attention to the experiment instructions.”

She looks away, shifting uncomfortably on her motorcycle. “Actually, I was distracted by something…” her eyes return to yours, “-someone.”

“You're making it sound like it was a person you were crushing on or something.”

She falls silent, looking away again.

Wait.

Hold on.

What?

“Wait—wait a minute,” you demand, walking closer to her.

“What?”

“You were being distracted because you were crushing on someone during the science lab? That was the reason that whole thing happened? You couldn't keep yourself from being distracted because you were crushing on someone?”

“That's not fair to say,” she protests.

“Not fair to say?” you repeat, scoffing. “I literally got three detentions because you were more interested in staring at someone-”

“Fine! Whatever. Maybe I was distracted, maybe I wasn't paying attention-” she admits defensively “-maybe I was looking at-” she cuts herself off again. “Whatever, I'm going home.” She starts her motorcycle, not glancing at you.

“Hey-” you reach out, grabbing her arm. “Wait.”

“What do you want?”

“What was that person's name?”

“What does it matter?”

“Cause, I have a hunch.”

“Care to share this hunch with me?”

“Uh, Caitlyn Kiramman…?”

She snaps her head to you, eyes tracing up and down. “Are you actually this clueless?” she sneers, then drives away, leaving you alone on the sidewalk.

“Hey!” you shout. “Seriously, what is your problem?” you call out after her. “We were having a decent conversation, why did you-”

Suddenly, she stops, braking abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk with a quick skid. Before you can say, or think, she has her motorcycle facing you once again. She swings her leg over and hops off, walking up to you with a determined look.

“You want to know my problem?” she asks, coming closer. “I'll tell you my problem.” She grabs your shoulders, forcing you to step back. “My problem is that it's been years. Years, and you still have no idea, do you? you're still just as clueless as always.”

“What are you-” you stumble, struggling to keep your footing. Her hands are tight around your shoulders, holding you in place.

“You keep saying I'm the one who causes trouble, I'm the one who always makes your life harder-” she continues. “But you-”

You manage to find your footing and look at her face.

“-don't seem to get that you're just as guilty of making my life miserable.”

“Vi-” you start, but she doesn't let you finish.

“Every time you smile at me, every time you look at me, every time you talk to me.” She shakes you. “Every time you do something stupid, which is all the goddamn time,” she spits. “You don't seem to get that it drives me insane.” She huffs, letting go of you. “I've been right in front of you this whole damn time, and you just didn't even-”

“Didn't what?”

“You had no idea, did you? You don't understand why I’m so damn irritable whenever I'm with you, you don't get why I'm always trying to pick fights, why I can't just be civil, why I can't just be normal around you… you just think I'm a jerk!”

“Well, maybe you are. You did just grab me like a fucking maniac.”

“Oh, shut up,” Vi snaps. “Just shut up for a second.”

You shut up.

She takes a deep breath. “You think I enjoy this?” she asks, and the question sounds genuine enough that you regret the ‘maybe you are’ comment.

She scoffs. “I don't. I wish more than anything that I could just be calm and civil and… and nice around you. But instead, I'm always getting into your face, I'm always picking at you, I'm always trying to piss you off, because it's the only goddamn way I can get your attention.”

“Any time I try to be normal around you,” she continues, “I get... I get ignored. You act like I'm not even there. But the second I get in your face, the second I do something stupid or obnoxious-” she gestures at herself, “-suddenly, you're right there. You're looking right at me, you're talking to me, for once, you're actually paying attention to me-”

“Why do you even care about my attention?!” You don't mean for it to come out as angry as it does, but the pure confusion you feel causes you to raise your voice.

Vi looks away, a frown twisting her lips, before she snaps her gaze back to you. She sounds oddly embarrassed when she speaks. “Maybe because I'm completely, miserably, head over heels in love with you, okay?!”

Wait... what the actual fuck?

Vi looks away, the words leaving her in a rush. “I'm in love with you,” she repeats, quieter and slower. “There's no maybe about it. I've literally been in love with you since middle school.”

“So, instead... instead of just telling me,” you start, “you... you decided to be a jerk to me for the past six years?!”

“I was twelve!” Now her attention is fully on you as she gestures at herself. “I was a dumb kid, I didn't know what to do, but I was desperate for you to notice me. Every time I tried being nice, I got ignored, so... I guess I decided that if you weren't going to notice me in a good way, then I was just gonna piss you off and make you notice me in a bad way.”

“And then, I just kept doing it,” she continues, “because then, you would notice me, and you'd talk to me, and at least you weren't ignoring me. It became a habit. It was the same damn cycle every day. So, you know, I'm sorry if I don't suddenly know how to behave like a normal goddamn human being around you.”

She looks at you defiantly, she's expecting a fight, an argument, and the last thing she expects is for you to... laugh

You laugh. You don't laugh because you think it's funny, you laugh because you're so unbelievably shocked and overwhelmed that the only thing you can do is laugh. You try to cover it up, you try to muffle your laugh by bringing your hand to your mouth, but it's too late, you've already laughed.

“Why are you laughing?” she asks. “I'm being serious, okay? this isn't a joke, it's not some sort of prank. I am dead serious—I just confessed to you, and you start laughing? Jesus, you're actually heartless, you-”

You manage to get your laughter under control, your body still shaking with a few silent chuckles, but you manage to speak in between your breaths. “You have the worst-” and another chuckle, “-worst timing, I swear to god.”

“Oh I'm so sorry that my confession didn't please all of your fucking needs,” Vi says sarcastically, “but I've spent god knows how long in love with you, and I just had to take my shot. And what are you doing? You're laughing at me. Because your pride can't stand-”

“Would you shut up for like two seconds?!” you snap, cutting off her rant in an instant. “I'm not laughing because you confessed to me, okay?!”

“Then why are you laughing, huh? why is this so funny to you? because I don't find it very funny-”

“Because-” you sigh, and you're actually surprised by how... nervous you suddenly feel. “I never expected this, okay? I never expected you to actually... feel that type of way about me, and to top that, you're confessing to me in the stupidest way possible.”

“I didn't plan on confessing to you at all!” she protests. “It just... kind of happened. Plus, you've never been too keen on me.”

“I-” you begin because 'not keen on you' feels like an understatement. You've never liked her, or rather you've never let yourself even consider her as an option because your heart was set on one person only. “I just need some time to... process this.”

Vi scoffs, her face looking annoyed again. “You need time to process this? what's there to process? I just told you how I feel about you.”

“Yeah, well, I need to process that! Because you just dumped a lot of information on me, and right now I'm-” You pause, trying to pick just the right word. “...overwhelmed, okay?”

Vi's features soften, not quite fully, but just enough to show a little bit of sympathy. “Overwhelmed,” she repeats.

“Yeah…” you reply, “I mean... you just confessed to me, and I... I've never-” you gulp. “-I've never really thought of you... that way.”

“Never thought of me, or never let yourself think of me?”

Okay, woah, that's... a very accurate question.

She's right, and it's scary that she just pointed that out.

Maybe in the back of your head, you've wondered things, you've had thoughts, but it was all so brief, you've always been quick to brush them away. It never even crossed your mind that maybe you had been missing out on something.

You're not sure how to reply, and it gives Vi a chance to continue talking.

“You never let yourself think of me like that, huh?” she continues, “That's pretty sad, because I've literally been in love with you for the past six years.”

“Don't guilt trip me,” you snap. “It's not like I asked you to fall in love with me, is it?”

“I'm not guilt tripping you. I'm just trying to get you to understand how I feel. I'm just trying to make you see that I...care about you, okay? I'm not trying to—ugh!” She groans, rubbing a hand over her face. “I'm screwing this up, I'm screwing everything up, because apparently I suck at confessing and you… you mess with my head.”

“I mess with your head?” you repeat. “You're the one who's messing with my head! You're the one who's messing with my emotions, you—you just turned my entire life upside down, and you expect me to respond to it perfectly?!”

“Not perfectly!” she retorts. “You're seriously not getting it, are you? All I want is for you to-”

“What do you want then? you want me to say that I feel the same way about you? that I've secretly been in love with you for years and never said anything?”

“No, that's not what I— that's not what I want you to say at all!” She runs her fingers through her hair and pushes it out of her face because the haircut she has gets everywhere. “All I want you to say is that you'll even consider me as an option! I just want you to give me a chance. Is that so much for me to ask for?”

You groan to yourself. “Look, if you like me that much, then maybe you should at least make an effort… and then maybe... I'll give you a chance!” With that, you walk towards the front door.

Vi doesn't respond, not immediately, she just stands there watching you leave, a stunned look on her face. But she manages to shake herself out of that stupor in time to follow you.

“Are you serious...?"

“You want me? You gotta work for it,” you respond without slowing your footsteps.

“Woah woah woah, what? work for it?” she sputters, trying to keep up with you. “What more do you want from me?”

“I want-” You stop in front of the door, suddenly turning around to her. “-I want you to prove how serious you are. Just confessing to me isn't going to change everything, and if you're being serious,” you jab a finger to her chest, “then prove it.”

“And how exactly am I supposed to prove myself, huh? Please, tell me, because I'm really at a loss here.”

“I don't know, figure it out.” You shrug. “You claim to be in love with me, right? and if that really were the case, then you have six whole years worth of feelings inside that-” you point at her “-that heart of yours, and you better damn use it.”

“Fine,” she says, and her tone is determined. “You want me to prove it? I'll prove it. I'll prove it so much, you're going to be drowning in how much I prove it. I'm going to do everything just to win your heart. Just watch.”

That sounds cheesy, but... you'd be lying if you said you weren't intrigued. You scoff, turning around and opening the door, but not before saying, “We'll see about that.”

—

Vi stares at the closed door, her thoughts completely occupied with your words.

Prove it.

She shakes her head, a grin on her face as she walks back to her motor.

You and her have had a rocky past, but she's determined to wipe the slate clean.

Vi swings her leg over her motor. She grips the handles tightly and starts the ignition.

She's going to start from the ground zero with you.

And by god, she will prove herself.

246 notes · View notes

theteablogger · 17 hours ago

Note

You may have already noted this, but Andy's claims on twitter about being able to understand what his sparrow is saying (and thus sparrow language in general) seem to be ramping up in unbelievability- apparently yesterday the bird was able to communicate that it didn't want its conversation with other sparrows recorded and shared. Andy makes mention of several of his followers who have apparently been having FaceTime calls with the bird. There's at least 5-6 of Andy's followers who consistently comment on the bird updates and show no credulity, expressing how much they want to be able to communicate with the bird like Andy does. It's probably not the biggest deal, but the whole thing has just been giving me an odd vibe. Feels like Andy once again making friends/followers by demonstrating abilities and knowledge no one else has.

Yes, his allegedly deep connection with sparrows has been getting weird for quite a while. He says he can understand some of their language, enough to relay things that the flock outside his house is talking about and things that Nuggie communicates to him. On top of that, Andy has written about things like Nuggie watching movies and musicals and following every emotional beat, to the point of showing the characters his malformed feet to offer encouragement when they're lacking confidence. Andy is anthropomorphizing the hell out of that little bird. Meanwhile, his followers praise him for knowing sparrows better than ornithologists do.

I've lived with a parrot before, for many years, and I bonded very closely with him. I agree that birds are much smarter and more emotionally complex than most people realize. But they're not humans. Their thoughts and feelings are not exactly like ours and we have no way to know exactly what's going on in their heads. Projecting onto them can lead to misunderstandings of their behavior and needs. Andy seems to be taking good care of Nuggie, from what I can tell--bearing in mind that we only have his word for it--but that doesn't mean he's right about everything.

Here's the thread you mentioned:

Here's Andy in November, writing about Nuggie's "phone flock":

Here's a thread from October, featuring Andy's musings on sparrow language. Friendly reminder that he is neither an ornithologist nor a linguist.

Note that at the end, he specifies that he's not Dr. Doolittle and doesn't speak or 100% understand sparrows' language...but he's still claiming a level of understanding that no one else has.

And here's Andy in August, wishing that he could communicate effectively with Nuggie and then having an actual conversation with him:

Those are some awfully complex ideas for a member of a non-human species to understand and respond to appropriately.

I'm not trying to suggest that Andy is forming another cult based around his bird, but like you said, Anon, it's notable that he is once again positioning himself as someone who has a special ability that no one else has. He's also repeating an old pattern in making himself the sole conduit to communicate with someone who holds a great deal of emotional significance for people. Back in the day, it was any of 160+ "others", and later, the DAYDverse/Harry Potter characters; now, it's a rescued sparrow with a disability, whom a lot of people apparently find inspiring.

#craftycatdad #andythanfiction #thanfiction #andrew blake #andy blake #the bird whisperer

198 notes · View notes

militaryapple · 1 day ago

Note

Hi, I'm not sure if you're taking request but I love the way you write Caleb ☺️ Is it possible you can do a cute little fake dating troupe in college with Caleb?

It goes like, reader (non MC) and Caleb are friends and reader wanted a bf but she can't find one so she tried out this "men will start chasing you when you have a bf" theory with Caleb when Caleb thinks this is an opportunity to do couple things with his crush 🫢

wc. 939.

add ons: hii yes I can!! so glad u guys love my caleb he's so crazy I miss him

college. it was definitely something. work load 20 times heavier, professors who don’t really give a fuck wether you live or die or right, and dating. how you loathed the couples in your university. was it because you were unable to get a boyfriend yourself? maybe. was it also because half of every guy on campus was either a massive jerk, a guy in a frat or taken? maybe.. partly.. yeah.

everytime you were close to finding a guy, a perfect suitable guy who was funny or sweet or kind— he had to bail or he already had a girlfriend! yeah, total dreamboat. you could only sigh at the thought of you and someone on a date, going to the movies or watching some corny movie. wow you were really single and mindlessly scrolling on social media wasn’t helping your case one bit. post after post, jesus how did they do it? then you had an idea.

maybe you were pathetic and desperate.. oh fuck you’re in college. what’s worse? graduating with no love life or dying without someone who loves you. yeah, you would take your chances.

you silently typed up on your phone “how to become more attractive to men”. was it weird? yes. did you care? not really. it’s not your roommate was here, she would go on about how “life is amazing without a lover!” and “you don’t need to cry over a man!” in which she was silently resigned everytime you brought up how she had a boyfriend. so it’s come to this. better now than never anyways.

“men like taken woman, gives them a chase.” well fuck! that was your issue from the start?! what were you gonna do? get a boyfriend out of thin air to make guys ma— then you heard a knock.

you closed out of the tab as you walk to your dorm door, opening it as your gaze shifted upward, and holy mother of pearls did you find the holy grail. he was your answer.

“hey, pipsqueak!” caleb said as he held his arms out for you waiting for a hug, just to be greeted by a grab on the wrist and a soft ‘thud’ on your bed. you stared up at him, inspecting him closely. caleb was a perfect candidate! he could be your fake boyfriend!

“be my fake boyfriend.”

you were met with small chuckle as he covered his mouth and muffled out apologies. you were embarrassed, god this was embarrassing. if only you could rewind 2 minutes. god god god.

caleb smiled widely, “are you sure you want me as your fake boyfriend? what’s this even for anyways, pipsqueak?” his eyes soften as he got more comfortable on your bed. you could only smile in content. he didn’t say no, so you’ll take that as a win.

“guys are more attracted to you when you have a boyfriend.” you said shoving your phone in his face. he scanned over the phone closely before pushing your hand down to look at you. god were you pretty.

“that’s.. not real pipsqueak.” he said trying to cover his laugh. were you serious about this? you couldn’t actually believe this crap. this is why caleb prefers for you to come to him for this sort of thing, not some lousy thread you found on a very sketchy site. though he couldn’t just trample on your dreams so he went along with it, even if it was funny.

“I’m serious!” you snapped back. “just for a while, until someone shows interest in me! well more interest than my supposed boyfriend.. please caleb?” you begged, and he could never say no to you. you jumped up happily before leaning in for a hug but instead you were met by a subtle push and “ah-ah”. you looked at caleb puzzled as he got up. his arms moving to your hip while he leaned down, his and your breath almost kissing.

“if im gonna be your boyfriend for a while pipsqueak, don’t I deserve a little reward for helping you out?” he smiled, “even if it’s a fake we have to get used to kissing.”

kissing.

your first kiss, would be him.

you stared up at awe, he was handsome. just one kiss, it wouldn’t be bad right? you were flustered but no backing down now. better make this as real as possible.

You nodded in subtle approval before you leaned in, your lips touching as his grip on you held tighter. his free hand cupping your face. he was a natural at kissing, his movements were tender and he was so gentle with you. it was as if he didn’t want to wreck you. caleb moved his head back, breaking away from the sweet moment. “okay then, it’s official.” he said softly.

caleb would take you out often, every week, everyday to be exact and there seemed to be absolutely no luck with other guys. it’s not like it mattered anyways though, you were having fun with caleb, almost like he was your actual boyfriend.

as for caleb, this was perfect, he was almost glad he checked on you the day he did. you were a dream, and this “fake boyfriend” idea? would soon wash away when you start to only think of him as your actual boyfriend. taking you out, kissing you, holding you while you’re upset. everything.

as for the guys who chase you around? haha as if! he personally made sure on your first day of university that everyone knew you were his. well it doesn’t matter, it worked out either way. for both you and him.

174 notes · View notes

gangstalkerbarbie · 22 hours ago

Text

REAL AS HELL OP it's so much more fun and edifying when you make an effort to understand the people who were writing. they probably weren't writing to you and they may have actively wanted to kill you or enslave you, but that's a bias inherent in a Lot of writing by people who aren't whatever you are, that i for example was still required to read to be able to participate in even my birth society. you know? to me this actually does have a lot to do with the real world, personally (again: to me, i'm not hauling anyone into anything. everyone not interested in Barbie Gets Political: The Movie can ignore the cut)

like, ok, xenophobia is and was real in real life too, and if it's set dressing in a period novel, well, i'm there for the plot, aren't i? these are concerns these characters realistically would have had, aren't they?

the racists and the antisemites and so on aren't going to jump off the page and hurt me. in fact a lot of the time old dead racist people or whoever are hamfistedly trying to be anti whatever it is for their time, given that many of them don't experience the effects of whatever on their society at all, being dominant in it and not having any acquaintances who aren't. sometimes some of them actually do know people marginalized in their society intimately, and their writing is genuine allyship. that's in the archives of history too.

and no one like, shielded me from any of that, because if literature reflects the world then encountering written hatred is safe practice for children at engaging with real hate. you balance it out with your own cultural products where your experience is central and your domestic life is celebrated, but in order to survive in a hostile society your offspring have to understand the soul of that society, and if you want to change something about it, why then you need to know what you're working with so that you can effectively do that.

being able to see people that conceivably could have hated you as humans who are good or at least neutral at heart is hard. especially if their descendants keep killing people like you and saying inflammatory shit online. but intellectually understanding them is still important, because most of the time the fencesitting people in your daily life who find refuge in times when you were less visible are afraid of you, and most of the time the fear is manufactured by some force other than either of you with oodles of money. and much of the time comforting them in the voice of these ancestors of theirs works!

and idk it's no one's like, heaven given task to educate racists but the one person that frames it as a sickness and bothers is going to change those people's lives, and their own life in a small way too. you know? i've done it, it's work i didn't have to do and shouldn't be held responsible for always doing but i have in fact done it.

that's why i spent so much time grinding english - i would have been fine with the school level if i just wanted to make money, but i wanted to understand the anglophone soul, as a matter of keeping myself safe and helping other people.

i half have a conspiracy theory that the american push to sanitise children's experience of the world is a push to keep children from accurately comprehending the situation they're maturing into. left unspoken is that there are going to be responsible parents of every kind educating their children at home, but they'll do that from books that reflect their own politics and their real experiences and fears about the world, which is how you get privileged children who grow up into a kumbaya sparkles and rainbows construction of the world where racism or antisemitism or whatever is Solved, and then every other kind of child raised by parents with every other idea about how the world works, who might meet them only in higher education. who has a pretty fundamental gulf of experience with them, which is none of their faults, but which does mean that in their perception this marginalized person who is just trying to protect themself appears to be picking on them for no reason.

if someone picks on you for no reason and you've been raised to fight injustice with the structural power that you have to do that, riddle me piss, what's the white kid going to do?

bingo, the same thing that i do when lumped in with anglosaxons by people trying to minimize whatever racist thing i'm telling them happened to me, or deny that it was because the people doing it don't think eastern european women are fully people (they don't), or whatever.

except they have relevant and responsible ancestors and mine were, like, illiterate peasant wizards with a classist and antisemitic reputation for stealing everything not nailed down, krymchak rabbis who tbh didn't really do anything honestly they just got axe murdered for nonexistent gold, horse cart nomads with a racist reputation for stealing everything not nailed down, and factory serfs with a classist reputation for stealing everything not nailed down.

and to this hypothetical white person it's just defending themself, but everyone else might experience that same exchange as a manifestation of structural racism - the establishment gaslighting them about their own suffering and, essentially, engaging with them as an abuser with a victim.

why does only that guy get to sit on this high horse? why does he get to believe the world is ponies and care bears while everyone with any tie to literally any "third" or "second" world country, to any ancestral homeland, even one like the construction of mama afrika, can see it for what it is?

if there was a unified, at least trying to be antiracist national literature in any anglospheric country it would help - it did help, it's largely the soviet cultural machine and its unfortunate impacts on everyone that made, for example, russians and tatars in the ussr, who had beef, largely functionally indistinguishable from each other today. these are people with a long intergenerational legacy of mutual strife and oppression, and they're, like, fine now. they joke about it.

but there isn't an attempt at a unified, antiracist national literature in any anglosphere country, that i know of. there's only books by people who aren't you, some of whom have always or frequently seen you as less than human (if you're anything other than WASPy), and some of whom (if you're WASPy) are justifiably really, really, really fucking mad at your parents.

it is a very important skill to have to abstract yourself from people personally starting shit with you and start seeing writing about your demographic as just a neutral reflection of the world, or the biases inherent in the world. that's the only way it's ever going to get any more neutral, is if the people who could actually most benefit the world by reading minority authors actually did that.

the rest of the world has to read your literature, why not read the world's? see what the world has to say? it might not be flattering but it's real, which is something that i knew from childhood, and something that people better off than me are at present actively trying to devalue learning from university.

to be someone who's actually interested in reading english literature and genre fiction or tbh any kind of cultural production. you kind of accept that racism and misogyny and so on usually brackets all the cool worldbuilding and beautiful prose and the clever ideas? it doesn't really dull my enjoyment exactly, i honestly have fun mapping out the exact contours of the type of racism. i enjoy fanwork that thumbs at that. but the denial of its existence actually really really does annoys me. i emotionally have a worse long term response to the denial of racism than actual racism. (this has absolutely nothing to do with the real world.)

#barbie malding

1K notes · View notes

plaidcowboy · 2 days ago

Note

pls i need more soft rafe 🧎🏾‍♀️ i feel like people barely writes for him all soft and cutie

◜ RAFE CAN’T FOCUS ᪖ during movie night ᮫ ۪ ۫ ֢

༝ ﹆ softie rafe ༝ ⊹ ᰍꫬ distracted rafe ༝ ੭

you playfully shoved rafe’s hand when it went to lie on you again. you glanced over to see him lull his head onto the back of the couch, upset after another failed attempt. you giggled at his slight pout, “at least the first ten minutes” you referred to the film you put on for you two to watch. it was a favorite of yours and you wanted to introduce it to him. “’m down” he had said. but seeing you in your cute pj set all snuggled up next to him, made him distracted.

“just give me a brief synopsis so i know what i’m watching . . i’m paying attention, i just wanna . . pay more attention . . ” you watched as his brows slowly furrowed and a from formed on his face as his sentence went on. he didn’t even know what he was talking about.

you nodded, going along so you two could just start the movie. “so, they’re starting their first senior year of high school. well, at least she is. you’ll figure out why he technically isn’t later . . ” you were cut off by rafe gripping the bottoms of your set. “where’d you get this from? i want to put you in more.”

you grabbed his hand, putting it back onto his lap. “were you listening?” you huffed out. rafe looked up to you, “yeah, she’s a senior, he isn’t . . what?” rafe realized your words.

you giggled, “no, they’re both seniors, he just . . well, you’ll see. anyway . .” rafe halted your words again, “no, seriously, what store? you look so cute like that explaining your favorite movie. i could listen to you talk about anything. i’d believe anything you say. i don’t even have to watch the movie, you just tell me everything and i sit here and stare at you. is that an option?”

you froze, hands mid gesture while explaining. “no . . not an option” rafe’s head slung down. he sighed, “yeah, i figured.”

“rafe!” you grabbed his face, getting closer to him by shuffling forward on your knees, “it’s not that hard! it’s a good movie. watch this one, then we can do whatever you want.”

you’d thought that would tempt him. but instead . . “i really like when you touch me. have i ever told you, your hands are so soft, and i might be one of those physical touch people. but i only want touch from you, all the time. what is that called?”

you sat, staring at him. “um . . obsessed.”

rafe nodded in your hands. “yeah, that’s it. i like touching you too . . ” he pulled your waist, head coming down onto your neck. you felt him take a breath. “and you smell good. jus’ wanna cover you in bites. can i, please?”

you sighed, not understanding how you two strayed from the movie this much. “so . . no movie?” rafe’s head came up, frowning at the look on your face. “no, we’re watching this movie. my baby wants to watch this movie, we’ll watch it. she gets anything she wants.”

you couldn’t help the smile that formed, “okay, yay. will you actually focus?” you rose your brow at him, mockingly serious.

“yep,” rafe rose his hands in surrender, “no touching . . ” he quickly put his hands back onto your waist, “actually, no. got to touch.”

you giggled out a, “fine,” and turned in his lap to continue the movie. “comfy?” you asked.

“of course,” you heard from behind you. “great. there’s four more movies after this.”

“there’s what?”

#rafe cameron ˚ ⑅ ⍣#req ₊ ֗𓈀 ⌒#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe blurb #rafe cameron #rafe x reader

548 notes · View notes

rivalswrites · 2 days ago

Text

Valentine's special 2/4

Before you read, please be warned that I'm writing based on my impressions of them not only in the game (though it's the biggest inspiration), but some of them with the movies/shows in mind too.

Summery: giving everyone on the Marvel Rivals roster a kiss (with plot!!)

Valentine's Masterlist

Underage characters and animal characters will be platonic (there will be a reminder for each one)

Characters included: Bruce/Hulk, Invisible Woman, Iron fist, Jeff the Shark, Loki, Luna Snow, Magik, Magneto, Mantis

“You are just the cutest thing ever” Bruce said, holding your head in his hands while sitting on the couch. He had you sitting in-between his legs, which were laying all across said couch, enjoying the warmth of your body laying on top of his.

Usually he wouldn't be so affectionate, worried about… other variables of his, but tonight was different. Tonight Bruce was tired, and all he wanted to do was be with you- even if it meant he'd probably fall asleep on the couch and get back pain in the morning.

“And you're so handsome” you said back, smiling up at him. Your arms were around his waist and you cuddled on top of him. “All of you” was added after.

Bruce let out an amused ‘hmf’ and you could see a soft blush on his cheeks if you squint hard enough. “All of me? Even the big green pea?” That got a laugh out of you.

“Yeah, even the hulk” you mutter out as a reply, laying your head on his chest and humming in content. His hands moved from your face to your back, drawing patterns, and probably equations too, on your back lightly.

Silence reigned over the living room, it would almost be deafening if it weren't for Bruce’s heart beating into your ear where it laid. “Love all of it” was let out in barely a whisper. His hands stopped tracing their patterns, instead grabbing onto your shirt in fistfulls, “can't say stuff like that” he murmured, laying his head back to barely touch the arm of the couch.

“But it's true.” Your elbows pushed you up to try and see his face, “I do love all of you, I don't care if it's you or Hulk.”

When his head came back up to a regular position, his entire face was flushed. “Don't just go saying things like that,” his eyes closed and his face looked so adorable when he was flustered like this “gonna get a heart attack.”

“You of all people know that's not how you get a heart attack.” You whispered while leaning up to meet his face.

He was surprised by the kiss, but not unwelcoming of it. His arms tightened their hold and his fists scrunched up your shirt, trying to pull you closer as he pushed against the kiss to deepen it.

The two of you laid in bed giggling together, it was still early morning but you bother were definitely supposed to be up and running for the day by now. Instead of being responsible adults the two of you stayed under the sheets and made jokes to each other, the early morning fog making everything a tad more funnier than it should be.

“You're ridiculous” Susan said, her head resting on your chest while holding in her laughter horribly. “I'm serious! He really did say that.” You replied, an arm waving in the air as the other one sat entangled with her hair.

After you said that she laughed some more, moving her head back to let it all out. God she was gorgeous like this, in the lighting that perfectly framed everything.

You laughed along too, but eventually it died down to deep breaths to catch both your breaths. Holding each other in a tender embrace, you let out a deep yawn. “Guess we should get up and be productive people, hm?” You said and pulled her closer.

“Yeah, maybe” she replied, pulling you just as close.

Neither of you had any intention of letting go to get up, but you both knew it had to happen eventually. Susan deeply sighed before pulling her arm out from under you and perching herself up. “There's only one way to start the day perfectly.” She said, smiling at you.

“And what's that, my love?” You asked, your hand in her hair moving to push it out of her face. “This” she said before lounging at you.

She practically tackled you with all her force, laying on top of you as she smothered your face in kisses. “Susan!” You said with a shout, laughing and grabbing onto her waist as she continued her attack. She pulled back and smirked, “what, can't handle it?” she said with a giggle. “Oh, I can handle it, can you?” You said before grabbing her face with both your hands and pulling her back in for a passionate kiss.

Lin was met with a bunch of flower in his face the moment he opened his bedroom door, eyes going from them to you multiple times as he processed what was happening.

You had a big smile on your face, holding up the single flower for him. After taking a moment, he smiled back and took the flower from your hand and examined it on his own. “What's this?” He asked, looking up at you with pure curiosity. “A flower” you replied with a proud tone.

“Well obviously, what's it for?” His tone was playful, not at all taken back by the dumb response you had given him. “For you!” Again you gave a vague reply.

He was used to your vague replies, and even found them funny, but his curiosity begged for a real answer- so he pressured more questions. “Where'd you get it?” “Nature” “did it cost anything?” “I paid with my love for you” “why today?” “Why not?” It went on and on, like a game of cat and mouse, except he had no way of winning this one.

There was only one thing to do, pull out the big guns.

“I'll give you a kiss if you actually tell me.” In an instant he saw your eyes light up, immediately making eye contact with him as you spoke.

“I found it in someone's front lawn on my way here, I thought it was cute and wanted you to have it.” Straight forward, “I believe you owe me a reward for being so honest.” and humble.

He laughed, looking back down at the flower, “I do, don't I?” Lin pulled you in by the waist and dipped his head down, capturing you in a soft kiss full of love- as they always were with him. When he pulled back he observed your star struck face with a smile. “Thank you for the flower, baby. But maybe don't go stealing from random neighborhoods next time.”

(Platonic)

The little shark had wanted to play outside, and as the self-designated caretaker of the little guy you were the one to take him outside. You sat on the porch stairs and watched as he ran around chasing everything- literally. His tail? Chased. That butterfly? Chased. The wind? Chased.

Jeff never ceased to amaze you on how much curiosity one creature could have- he was adorable.

You had spent maybe an hour outside by now, resting your head on your palm and watching Jeff explore a yard he's seen a million times before. By now you were getting hungry, and you sure Jeff was a little too, so you started thinking of lunch. Sandwiches sounded good, and they were simple to make, quick and easy so the little guy didn't have to wait.

Jeff easily noticed when you stood up, stopping his playtime and trotting over to you to see what was up. His face looked up at you with what you thought was a cute smile and big beady eyes. “Ah, Jeff you're so cute” you praised, crouching down to scratch the underside of his chin. He enjoyed this, letting out a cute noise and letting his tail wag. “How's about some lunch? You hungry?” The question easily peaked his interest, turning in circles to show it.

He easily followed you inside, even pushing the door closed after- something he had learned himself somehow, thank goodness he doesn't know how to open doors… right?

The kitchen was empty and made it easy for you to take your time and whatever you wanted from the fridge or cabinets. You settled on some sort of meat you found in the fridge (ham? Maybe turkey?) since it looked fine and passed your smell test- Jeff's too, but he ate anything so smell didn't really matter.

After making the sandwiches, five in total, you sat on the floor and pushed the plate with four of them towards Jeff, taking one for yourself to have. “Enjoy little buddy” you said as you watched the little shark absolutely devour them, taking the late with them. Glad you used a paper plate.

While you were eating yours Jeff came up and laid on your legs, pushing up against your hand that sat on your thigh. Deciding you could always make more, you tossed the rest of your sandwich- which was less than half- and watched as he scrambled to catch it. “You're adorable.” You muttered as he came back to you with a large smile that showed off all his teeth.

He let out the most adorable sound as he jumped onto your lap and licked your face, leaving an uncomfortable trail of shark saliva. “Thanks buddy” you said, using the bottom of your shirt to wipe off what you could.

Honestly it shouldn't be a surprise to you, coming home to find him bathing in rose petals and bubbles. He was a man who liked to be pampered, by others or herself didn't really matter.

“Be a dear and wash my hair for me, hm?” He slurred out, using a charming smile to coerce you into following his question- though he really didn't need to, you would've done it if he had ordered you too. Kneeling down you roll up your sleeves and grab the cup sitting on the edge.

Loki closed her eyes and sighed in bliss as the water washed over his head, relaxing into the water even more when your hands started to brush through his hair. “So good to me” he muttered.

“I try” you replied, rubbing the luxurious shampoo onto his scalp and down her long hair. Your fingers scratched at her scalp and that definitely got a satisfied reaction from her- seeing as he kept leaning his head into your hands, you happily obliged and applied more pressure onto her head. The deep exhale of his breath was a show of satisfaction.

It continued on like this, a cycle of singing his hair and applying hair products of all kinds- he insisted you used them all, to make sure her hair glowed. She still wanted to lay in the water, after you were done, so you started to stand up to give her space and alone time. Her hand rushed up and grabbed yours, water splashing out of the tub at how quick he was “stay,” her tone was demanding, but also quiet, “please.”

It was rare for him to ask such things of you, so you did. You took a towel and set it in the ground before sitting on it, your arm leaning on the tub. Quickly she took the opportunity to lay her head on your arm, a hand of his coming up to rest on your wrist- her pinky was outstretched to interlock with yours.

The both of you sat like that in silence for what could've been 5 minutes to an hour, it didn't seem like either of you cared which one it was.

His head would readjust sometimes, until eventually it was up on your shoulder and she had to hunch over to stay comfortable.

“The water is cold” the silence was broken by his comment. Unsure of what she wanted as a reply you went with the safest option, “want me to rerun the bath for you? Make it warm again, my love?” “No” his reply was quick, hand on your wrist tightening its grip. “Alright” was your reply, a quiet one as the silence set in once more.

You looked over to her, cheek resting on his wet hair with a smile. Your hand came up to rest on their head, thumb rubbing up against their cheek in comfort. It was all he needed to raise his head and look up at you- leaning into your palm.

It was too hard to resist, you couldn't help it when she looked at you with those eyes- vulnerability showed in them, something only you were allowed to see. So even so slightly you leaned in and pressed a kiss against Loki’s own lips; enjoying how soft they've always been compared to your most likely chapped ones.

It was late at night and you were in the dining room, sitting with two bowls in front of you- even though it was just you. This had been like the fifth time you'd checked the time, but you waited patiently, you knew she was a busy person.

The front door keypad sounded and went off after the correct code was put in before the door opened and closed soon after; which still didn't stop the cold breeze of outside meeting your face briefly. You could hear her, her shiver from the outside as she took her shoes off and put them in the shoe rack, replacing them with the bunny slippers you had gotten her ages ago.

“Oh,” she mutters, leaving the entry hallway to get a peek at you “I didn't realize you'd be awake still.” Seol looked guilty, reaching up to scratch at her hair nervously.

“Wanted to wait for you, should I not have?” You asked, turning in your chair to look directly at her. “No- No!” She shouted, “I mean- I don't mind it, you staying up for me.” her corrections on her reply were quick and worried.

She comes and pulls the chair next to you out, to sit in, and faces you like you do her; your legs interlock. “I'm sorry I'm always so late.” Her hand comes up to rest on your bicep, rubbing up and down in comfort. “It's alright, I know you're busy” you muttered in reply, taking her hand on you and holding it in yours. “You could make it up, though.” That caught her interest.

“Oh? How's that, my love?” Her face cracked a smile, if she knew you- which she did- she knew where this was going.

You didn't verbally reply, simply reaching up and pointing to your lips with a smile. Seol’s smile got brighter with your movement, raising her hands to cup your face. “I can't deny you.” She said before tugging you close and bumping faces with you with a laugh. Eventually her lips met yours and her laughs turned into little giggles instead; you even let out a few of your own.

The kiss was apologetic and sweet. She was busy a lot, you knew what you signed up for.

“Why do you care so much?” She sighed, laying her head on the foot of the bed as she laid on her stomach, “it's a shirt! Just pick one, baby, not that hard.”

Illyana wasn't one for fashion, despite looking good in everything, so when you propositioned her to pick your shirt because you couldn't decide she started complaining- nicely because it was you. “C'mon Illy- I can't decide!” You said back, holding up like three different shirts “That's why I'm asking you!”

This obviously wasn't going anywhere, as it always did when you asked her to help you with your wardrobe choices. “Why don't you wear that one shirt, the one I like?” She replied, rolling onto her back and turning her neck to glare at you from upside-down.

“It's dirty, I don't want to smell bad when I go out.” You said on the bed next to her and tossed the shirts onto her legs. “Hey!” She scoffed playfully, not actually bothered by it.

“Hey” you replied, leaving down to rest your hands on her stomach as she adjusted her head to look up at you. “Why don't you just stay inside today, then you don't have to pick out a shirt.” She suggested, raising her eyebrows in a silly manner while smirking at you.

“I'm not gonna walk around shirtless all day at home, you sucker.” You grabbed into her nose and shook her head playfully. Her hands raised to meet yours, tugging it off of her and smiling up at you. Her hands brought yours back down to rest on her stomach.

Quiet washed over the two of you, leaving both to just look at each other with smiles. “You could wear one of my shirts.” She offered, cutting through the silence. Pretending to think you looked up, “You do have some nice ones…”

“Alright, one of yours it is.” You pat her stomach and she laughs. “See? Not so hard after all,” Illyana reached up and grabbed your face. “I deserve a reward for being so helpful.”

With no complaints you listened to her suggestion, leaning down and giving her a sweet kiss. Her hands tangled with your hair and tugged slightly, always having to be in control in some way.

Somehow it was a quiet evening, for everyone. You sat on the couch with Erik, holding onto his arm and practicing melding into his side. “You're so warm” you told him earlier when he questioned it, but quickly left it alone with your answer being satisfactory.

He was reading a book, something random he found in the Baxter Buildings extensive library- it was probably something science related, maybe philosophical, but you didn't pay attention or care enough.

Your head rested on his muscular shoulder, not the most comfortable pillow but a favorite. He never showed it, but he loved when you cuddled up to him, you knew imso because he'd always make space for you to do so. Willingly he would move his arm to just the right position to where your arms could easily wrap around it so you could hold him. What a sweetheart.

Erik would let it occasional hums, something he unconsciously did when he was satisfied with his environment- when you were there.

“Please, my dear, stop staring at me.” He cut through the silence, but didn't look up from his book. “I don't know what you're talking about.” You said, feigning stupidity at him obviously catching you in the act of ogling over him. “You are right, I should not assume that you were staring at me when I can very obviously feel your eyes on me” Erik replied sarcastically, putting an ear on the page he was reading so he could close the book and put it aside- finally looking at you with a light smile.

“Exactly,” you agree, playing along “assuming things never work out well.” The both of you chuckle and smile at each other, leaning in more- if that was even possible.

“You are so right, my dear, as always.” his eyes were gentle, for a man that had gone through everything he has. “I always am,” you said back, thumbing at his shoulder gently.

His hand comes up to cup your cheek, rubbing his thumb across it before running back and playing with the ends of your hair. His touch was so gentle, like you were the most precious thing in the world; because you were, to him you were.

Without another word needed between either of you, you moved to sit up more and leaned up to give him a kiss. He gladly returned it, using his hand in your hair to tug you closer, giving all of his love and attention to you.

“I can feel your love for me.” She said, thumbing at your hands that rested around her. You both laid in bed, her back to your chest as the moonlight passed through the curtains of your room. “Well I sure hope you can,” you replied, pushing her up against you more “make sure you get all of it.”

Mantis laughed at your comment, turning her head to see you and in turn show you her smile. “I certainly am.” She replied with a giggle.

You leaned your head down and nuzzled into her cheek, pushing yours against her like a cat. “Good, it's all meant just for you.” Her smile widened. Mantis pushed against the bed and turned around so she could wrap her arms around you like you were with her. The room became quiet again, besides your breathing, and you both just looked into the others eyes; full of love they were.

Leaning down you pressed a quick kiss against her nose, pulling back with a smile as blush dusted her cheeks a little. In turn she leaned up and pressed a kiss against your chin, and the game was on. The both of you took turns pressing kisses against the others face, it felt like enough time had passed to where every inch of both your faces was covered in kisses.

“I win.” You said, leaning down and capturing her lips before she could ask what you meant. She didn't complain, her hands raising to rest under your sleep shirt and pulling you closer.

When you pulled away it took a moment for the both of you to catch your breath, but she was quicker. “I didn't know this was a game, I think there needs to be a rematch.”

112 notes · View notes

steveseddie · 15 hours ago

Text

pencil me in

written for the @steddiebingo kissing booth mini event | prompt: heart | rating: t | wc: 1,5k | tags: pre relationship, misunderstandings, dramatic eddie

read on ao3

Eddie arrives at Steve’s house with a mission– he’s finally going to ask him out on a date. A Valentine’s Day date where he’ll romance the hell out of Steve.

If he says yes, that is.

Eddie has his doubts, of course he does, but he also has reasons to believe this might work out. Reasons to believe that Steve might like him back.

Those are what gets Eddie to the front door where he rings the doorbell before whatever doubts he has make him turn around and leave.

His resolve falters slightly when Steve opens the door, dressed in sleeping clothes but somehow still looking as beautiful as ever. But he bounces right back when he notices that the shirt Steve is wearing is his Black Sabbath shirt. Little things like these are what make Eddie think he might actually score a date today.

“Eddie, hey.” Steve flashes him that lopsided grin that Eddie thinks he saves just for him. Another one of those little things.

Eddie waves, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Hi, Stevie.”

“I wasn’t expecting you,” Steve says, pushing his hair back. A stubborn strand of hair falls back over his forehead, making him huff in annoyance. “We– we didn’t have plans, did we?”

Eddie tsks. “I’m offended you think you could forget you and I had plans. Do you care so little about me?” He asks, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout.

Steve’s eyes dart to his lips for a split second before he rolls them. “Okay, drama queen,” he says, fondness lacing his tone. “Do you wanna come in or not? I was just about to have coffee.”

“Well, when you offer so nicely,” he teases, patting Steve’s cheek as he steps into the house.

He follows him to the kitchen and watches as he pours coffee in two mugs. The whole time Eddie is nervously playing with his rings, thinking about what he’s here to do.

He stops only when Steve hands him one of the mugs. “There you go. There’s milk in the fridge and I already added two spoonfuls of sugar.”

Eddie can’t help but melt like he does every time Steve remembers details about him– the way he likes his coffee, that he hates pickles, that strawberry is his favorite milkshake. “Thanks, sweetheart,” he says, walking to the fridge while Steve takes a sip from his own coffee. Black, like a heathen.

See? Eddie remembers things about Steve too. Then again, he’s also in love with the guy.

Time to do something about that, Eddie thinks.

“So, uh, Valentine’s Day is coming up,” he says, trying to steer the conversation where he wants it.

Steve leans back against the counter. “Mhm,” he hums into his coffee. “Are you going door to door telling people Valentine’s Day is a capitalistic holiday and an excuse for companies to make more money?”

Eddie clutches his chest. “Harrington, did you actually pay attention to my rants back in school?”

Steve chokes on his coffee, a slight pink tinge shading his cheeks. “N–No, I mean, I might’ve heard some of it, you’re loud, man. ‘S not like I had a choice.”

“Sure, Stevie,” Eddie says, shooting him a dimpled grin. “Anyway, no, I didn’t come here to lecture you about holidays being capitalist days of overconsumption.”

Steve tilts his head. “Why did you come here then?”

Eddie’s stomach churns as he realizes this is it. His fingers tighten around his coffee and he remembers he didn’t grab the milk. He thinks that something to do while asking Steve out might make things a little easier.

“Yeah, so I was thinking–” he starts, reaching for the fridge door, but the rest of the words die in his throat when he notices something on it.

See, like the Mother Hen that he is, Steve keeps a calendar on his fridge where he writes down everything from work shifts and doctor’s appointments to after-school pick-ups and group movie nights.

The first time Eddie saw the calendar, he wanted to call Steve a dork and tease him for having to keep track of his kids like that. But when he saw his name there, something warm bubbled up in his chest at the reminder that he was part of the group, of their lives, of Steve’s life. That they didn’t drop him as soon as the Upside Down was defeated. And just like that, making fun of Steve didn’t seem so important anymore.

Now, several months later, Eddie’s name is all over the calendar, but this time, that’s not what shuts him up.

No, it’s the word date written on the tiny square for February 14th, and the heart drawn around it.

Of course Steve has plans for Valentine’s Day. Of course it’s too late for Eddie to ask him out.

Of fucking course the moment he finally decides to make a move on Steve, he’s already got himself a date with someone else.

“Eddie?” Steve asks, snapping Eddie out of his spiral. He tears his eyes from that damn heart and glances at Steve, who’s waiting for him to finish what he was saying.

To finish asking him out. Except, he can’t do that anymore.

“I– I have to go,” he says instead, leaving his untouched coffee on the counter and backing away.

“What?”

“Yeah, I forgot I– I have to help Wayne with– uh, something.”

Steve’s eyebrows knit together. “Eddie–”

“Thanks for– for the coffee,” Eddie stammers out.

Steve huffs. “You didn’t even drink it.”

He takes two steps towards Eddie, who takes two steps back. “Sorry, I– I have to go.”

“Weren’t you gonna ask something about Valentine’s Day?” Steve asks when Eddie pivots and heads towards the door.

“Nope! Bye, Steve. Have fun with your date!”

“My– date?” Steve’s voice is laced with confusion. “Eddie, wait!”

Eddie doesn’t want to. He wants to leave, but Steve grabs him by the arm and pulls him to an abrupt stop.

He still won’t meet Steve’s eyes, though. At least not until Steve gives him no other choice by cupping his cheeks and forcing Eddie to look at him. He can’t help the way his stomach flutters at the touch and how close their faces are like this, and he has to remind himself that Steve has a date. This doesn’t mean anything.

“Why did you really come here, Eds?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” Steve huffs, his thumb brushing over Eddie’s cheek. “Because for a moment it seemed like you were here to ask me out on a Valentine’s Day date.”

Eddie groans, averting his gaze. “Steve, I said it doesn’t matter now–”

“Yes, it does!” Steve repeats, his arms falling to his sides in frustration.

Yeah, well. Eddie is frustrated too, damn it.

He crosses his arms over his chest. “It doesn’t because you already have a date!”

“Says who?”

“Your calendar, Steve!” He snaps. “The heart? The date you’ve got scheduled for Friday?”

“Yeah,” he says, “with you!”

What?

Eddie blinks. “But– you haven’t asked me.”

“I was going to,” Steve says softly. “But then you beat me to it.”

“Oh,” Eddie breathes, his heart picking up speed. Steve was going to ask him out. Holy shit.

“Yeah. So, are you gonna finish what you started or should I?” Steve says, the corner of his mouth tugging up in a tiny smirk.

This time, Eddie doesn’t hesitate, his doubts gone now. “Stevie, do you want to go on a date with me on Valentine’s Day?”

“Yeah, Eds, I do,” he says, his smirk turning into that lopsided grin he saves just for Eddie.

He only gets a glimpse of that grin before Steve swoops in and presses their lips together, softly at first. When Eddie makes a noise in the back of his throat and grabs a hold of his own Black Sabbath shirt to pull Steve closer, he kisses him harder, his tongue darting out and swiping along Eddie’s bottom lip. Eddie parts his lips, letting him in. He wraps his arms around Steve’s shoulders and stumbles back a few steps until his back hits the fridge, knocking a couple of magnets to the floor.

At the sound, Steve pulls back, his eyes focusing on something next to Eddie’s head as his lips twitch upwards. Before Eddie can ask what he’s looking at, Steve grabs the marker stuck to the fridge and writes something on the calendar.

Curious, Eddie turns his head. Now where they used to say just date Steve added something else.

Date with Eddie.

That same warm and fluttery feeling from the first time he saw his name there comes back, only tenfold. And so does the need to tease Steve.

“Can’t believe you had our date scheduled even before you asked me,” he says with a shake of his head. “That’s pretentious of you, sweetheart.”

Steve shrugs. “I was right, wasn’t it?” He says, grinning smugly.

With a laugh, Eddie agrees. “Damn right, you were,” he says, pulling Steve in for another kiss.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddiebingokiss #stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #monse writes #hello i have three fics left to write before saturday for this mini event can i do it? maybe

109 notes · View notes

jayparked · 3 days ago

Note

understandable understandable! i’d love a lil bro like him 🥺

i had a thought about Nicholas earlier. I saw a clip of him saying he likes being called Weno because Nicho/nicholas sounds too cute to him? so imagine poking fun at him like “awww Nico~ you’re so cute” and he’s gets gen pissed off and he’s like ok bbg let me show just how cute i can be

idk much about this man but 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

- 🍎

i'd love a lil bro like maki too 😞 he'd be the most annoying and loving brother ugh but yes ahem lemme write something about nico real quick...

WARNINGS: brat punisher nico? *blinks*, slightly bratty reader, lots of teasing, fingering, dirty talk, take a shot every time i say the word 'cute'

WC: 1094

SNAIL TRAIL: i dont wanna talk about it i dont wanna talk about it i dont wanna talk about it i dont wanna talk about it i dont wanna talk about it i dont wanna talk-

you and nicholas have been sitting on the couch watching a movie for a little over an hour now, but you haven't been able to sit still. you're bored. restlessly, tiredly, annoyedly bored. and poor nicholas is having to deal with the repercussions of it.

“you’re the one who wanted to watch this movie.” nicholas warns after you’ve poked his cheek for the hundredth time.

you pout and let out a dreamy sigh, pinching his cheek between your fingers before leaning in and kissing the spot lightly. “cant help it. you’re just so cute. my cutie nico you’re so much better than any dumb movie.”

nicholas’s eyebrows narrow, gaze flicking towards you. “i’m better than a movie, yeah, but not because i’m cute.”

the intentions behind his tone go unnoticed by you, too distracted by the urge to squish his face between your hands. right when you're about to give into those urges, nicholas grabs both of your wrists, his grip tight as he pulls you forward. he stops you just inches from his face, lowering his head so that his hooded gaze meets yours.

"and what do you think you're doing?"

you gulp loudly, eyes wide at the lowness of his tone.

"...just wanted to squish your cheeks," you say meekly. no longer able to hold eye contact, you look down at your lap. nicholas's eyes flick down to your lips, his thumbs unconsciously rubbing short lines down your wrists.

"you think i'm cute?" he says slowly, one eyebrow raising playfully. all you can do is nod your head slowly, not trusting his question. all it does it make him smirk, biting his bottom lip slightly, his eyes roaming over your body. "let me show you just how cute i can be then."

you yelp as nicholas pulls your arms forward more, his hands leaving your wrists to hold you under your arms instead. he lifts you as he stands up from the couch, pulling your body close to him before laying your back flat against the cushions. he hovers over you, enjoying how your eyes widen and your breath gets caught in your chest.

he leans down, his face now next to yours, "you still think i'm cute?" he murmurs, his breath ghosting over your ear. nicholas's hands are roaming along your side, his thumb stopping just short from brushing against the side of your chest. his touch is soft and light, in total contrast to the ruggedness of his tone.

again, all you can do is nod.

the smirk on nicholas's face fades quickly. he lifts his head so he can look into your eyes again, but you try to avoid him. grasping your chin firmly in one hand, he forces you to look at him. the hungry look in his eyes is enough to have your lower body squirming, desperate to feel his body against yours. it's too obvious to go unnoticed by him. slowly, he moves one of his knees forward until it just barely makes contact right at your clothed core, making you flinch. you can't control the soft whimpers that leave your lips, trying to slowly grind yourself against his knee without appearing too pathetic.

"ah, cmon. you were so confident telling me how cute i was being earlier. what happened? did my cuteness make you shy? seems like you're the one being awfully cute now..." he clicks his tongue and chuckles slightly, his free hand still exploring your skin.

"i'm sorry." you manage to finally get out weakly.

"oh, you're sorry?" he laughs loudly and lets go of your chin. "well i guess that fixes everything now, does it?" he gives a convincing smile, one you know would fool anyone else. but you know him too well, "so you don't need me to punish you then. we can just go back to watching the movie-"

"no!" you yelp and grab the front of his shirt as he attempted to pull away from you. heat rushes to your face, closing your eyes tightly. you didn't mean for the words to rush out and sound as desperate as they did. but there's no taking them back now.

"that's what i thought." finally, his hand moves past your navel, his thumb hooking under the hem of your sweatpants, moving teasingly slow. you know he wants you to beg, to completely fold and take your words back. but the urge to be stubborn and not give in so easily trumps your need to feel his fingers inside you.

and yet, even with these intentions in your mind, your mouth betrays you.

"weno, please."

you watch as his eyebrows perk up with surprise, eyes now sparkling with a newfound hunger. he groans as he pushes your sweatpants past your hips, taking your underwear down with it. just because he's won in the battle of patience doesn't mean he's going to prolong it. before you can even process the feeling of the air against your bare skin, he's shoving two fingers inside you, not even caring to check to see how wet you are.

"aahhh, look at you. all of this for me," he coos, mouth hanging open in pleasure as he coaxes the moans from your body. the pace he scissors his fingers into you is overwhelming, leaving you digging your nails into his arms as you hang onto tightly.

only a few minutes pass with him continuously drilling his fingers into you at an unforgiving, unfaltering pace and already your orgasm is quickly approaching. you know he'll never let this go if you come so fast, it'll only fuel his already large smug ego.

"you can't hold back now," he smirks, "i can feel you clenching around me. just give in. you'll feel soooo good if you do." his words only makes it harder to hang onto your sanity. so, without wanting to, you can't help but give in.

nicholas moans along with you as he feels your juices spraying along his fingers. quickly, though, he's cradling you with his other arm, kissing your temple as he slows his fingers down, helping you through your high.

when you finally come to, you manage to breathe out an airy, "why?"

"hm? you thought i wasn't gonna let you come? my baby was being so cute and feeling so needy, i just couldn't help myself." he kisses the tip of your nose lightly and pulls you up against his chest, hugging you tightly.

"now that you've had your moment, pay attention to the movie. i wont be so considerate a second time."

♡ pls like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed! ♡ masterlist ♡ all rights reserved jayparked 02/15/25 do not copy, repost, or translate. if you're inspired to create something similar to my work, please credit me

#&team #&team x reader #andteam #&team smut #andteam x reader #&team imagines #&team nicholas #nicholas x reader #nicholas wang #wang yixiang #nicholas smut #yixiang smut #nico smut #nicho smut #nicholas hard thoughts #nicholas hard hours #♡ - 🍎 anon

84 notes · View notes

politicalunicorn · 1 day ago

Text

Thoughts on Captain America: Brave New World

It wasn't that bad. Lots of people are saying that it sucked, and yes, I was hoping they would do something more interesting with the adamantium but c'est la vie.

The villain was definitely really scary. I think the direction choice of showing us individual people that The Leader was killing is arguably one of the best choices. I found several moments where I genuinely looked at the screen and gawked.

That being said, the villain felt almost cartoonish. Like? C'mon. that phone call with Ross was just... it felt like a my little pony villain, bsfr

JOAQUINNNN MY BABY!!!! We have been LACKING for Peter Parker-coded characters, and he is definitely one of them. I love the way people are calling him baby falcon, bc yes, but also the mentor-mentee relationship between him and Sam???

On that relationship, Sam and Joaquin have the relationship of siblings with a massive age difference. Like eight years at least. Joaquin idolizes Sam and Sam is fond of him, but teases him as well. It's just so cute.

SamBucky nation is winning. Enough said. The I love you was one thing but the "He's also 102 years old" like, ok??? gatekeeping your man?? ok, I see you Sam <3

I did not empathize with Thaddeus Ross. Maybe, if they made him a shittier father, yes I would get the whole new leaf thing. But making his entire arc of bs in the last fifteen years be about Betty was just...not it. Make him have more to prove.

Also the writing of the phone call? Please. I know Marvel writers can do better than that.

this is just a problem with film-making in general, but marinate in the silence. a lot of life is silence, real-life exists in the margins of conversations. like that conversation between Bucky and sam could've definitely had that silence to really pull that impact.

the fight scenes tho??? that was so good, that was acc such good choreography, OBSESSED.

Bucky as a congressman is something that I really like, but was unexpected. I can totally imagine him trying to make the world a better place, but we're probably going to get that guilt-complex justification that marvel always pulls with Bucky.

The Isiah arc?? that line of "Don't Come Back" was SO good. Also, his face when he was shoved into the ground and his cries about his suit, was HEARTBREAKING. just absolutely gorgeous. arguably the best acting performance.

Sabra??? Kind of unnecessary??? like, the black woman (I don't remember her name, sorry) that was Sam's friend in the White House would've had a better role. It would've also been an interesting way to analyze what it meant to be a black woman in the Red Room.

also, if we WERE going to analyze sabra as a character, what does it mean to be Israeli in the red room? I am not a huge fan of boycotting someone based on their identity, because you can't really change where you come from, but we could analyze the status of the ethno-state in the larger marvel universe if we could.

I really wish they had pushed the political intrigue storyline, so much harder.

we do want bruce banner back tho. specifically the insanely lovable version of him in Avengers 1.

I wish they'd make the dialogue more natural

the avengers plot line could've been tied in better?

TLDR: It was a really good movie, with some writing issues and some brilliant performances and some beautiful relationships.

63 notes · View notes

alilobsessive · 9 hours ago

Note

I have probably sent you an ask before about this but idk I NEED someone to make something from this idea:

Neglected!Wayne as Bob Belcher inspired

The early season crashouts, the struggling to pay the bills….it’s glorious

OR OR for a more like ‘different’ au:

Bruce Wayne falls in love with a struggling single parent with three kids, a burger shop that SHOULD be renowned worldwide, and a shitload of debt

🎤

Omg omg, okay, so I admittedly never watched Bob’s burgers I have seen clips, obviously. So I can’t in good conscience write this. I will never be able to do it justice, not until I binge watch at least a season or two or more, maybe the movie. But you’re definitely on to something.

If we’re going for option A

Neglected Wayne is probably about the same age as Dick, maybe older. None of there kids are that old 6 at the oldest. There desperately trying to keep the Restaurant going, this has been there dream since they were young! Not the running a Burger Place part but running a Restaurant, beggars can’t be choosers and you picked a Burger Place solely to spite the chain restaurants and Batburger’s that keep popping up. They desperately don’t want to contact there family for financial help. There relationship with them is awful and Reader would rather die then contact them. But one night during an attempted robbery at the restaurant all of that changes. You’re back on Bats radar, not just you but your whole family and that is not a good thing.

B though, I think it would be hilarious to see Bruce is kid and the medias reaction to him falling in love with this stressed and sarcastic single parent. Like

Reader: *Drenched in sweat, eye bags under eye bags, makeup? Don’t know her. Trying to stuff one of there kids into a hamburger costume in some big to gain more visitors or the restaurant will close for the 5th time. Another one is trying to blackmail and guilt trip a customer into tipping extra. The oldest is aggressively typing away at there phone writing 100 wpm, creating what can only be described as a 2010 pre-teen fanfiction. That in realty is mid at best but looks like high art to her.*

Bruce Wayne: *pining aggressively*

Bat kids: Really? You have women that could become supermodels if they wanted at your beck and call. Man that could revile gods swooning like teenager girl when you just glance at them? And you want that? That’s why to normal for you are you feeling okay?

The Media: Really? You have women that could become supermodels if they wanted at your beck and call. Man that could revile gods swooning like teenager girl when you just glance at them? And you want that?

Maybe instead of Bruce coming over as well Bruce Wayne it’s as Batman.

Picture this, your a single parent running a family owned Burger place in Gotham City. It’s a miracle you aren’t secretly a front for something. One of your kids is at the cash register, the other two doing homework, it almost completely empty. Then suddenly you hear it “HOLY SHIT!” One of them screams as the bell jingles signaling another customer. Instantly you’re on edge unsure of its a bad holy shit or a good one then they continue “ITS FUCKING BATMAN!” And instantly there’s a stampede if tiny footsteps. You look out of the kitchen and see your kids crowding around Batman who is still at the door. “What are you doing here?!” “Why are you here” “Baba didn’t commit any crimes did they??” “Baba’s not cool enough to commit crimes idiot!” “When did Baba get cool!” You’re youngest snaps her head to look at you. “You committed crimes and didn’t include me!?” She says both shocked and offended, Batman, the Dark Knight, someone who was nothing more then a cryptid when you and your Ex Partner first started this business, slowly turns his head to look at you. You feel nothing but fear, a primal fear you thought was long forgotten as you make eye contact.

Without a word he orders enough food for a small army, making sense judging by the amount of protégés and coworkers he has. He then pays solely in hundred dollar bills, leaves a hundred dollar tip and then disappears into the dead of night not taking his change. To your horror and your kids glee not just the Batman but his entire posse become regulars.

We’re cooking! We’re cooking here!

And remember kids! Always support your local businesses! Steeling from large companies is not a crime! And if you’ve never been to a Burger place before that isn’t fast food, go to one ASAP it will change your life a swear!

#batfam x reader #platonic batfam #x gender neutral reader #x reader #neglected reader #bruce wayne x reader

49 notes · View notes

joeyalohadream · 11 hours ago

Text

💕☀️Joey's Masters of the Air Fanfiction Recommendations - Part 1 ☀️💕

Being part of a fandom that is small, yet so incredibly talented has been such a breath of fresh air for me. My reading list has been a mile long (and growing every day!) for far too long and I've recently been making more time for myself to simply read. And I wanted to take some time to shout out some of the wonderful stories and authors that I've really enjoyed lately.

All of these recommendations are Clegan stories because that is what I personally most enjoy reading. But there are other blogs and talented authors out there that write for all sorts of pairs in the fandom that I encourage people to engage with!

Adding a cut because it’s a looong post!

☀️ The Bucks in a Boat by magic_glow (not sure if the author has a tumblr!)

Explicit, Post-War, Falling in Love, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort

This is an AU based on the movie The Boys in the Boat (starring our lovely Callum). The plot follows John returning home from the war, where he still served as a B17 bomber pilot. But he enrolls in school and times are tough, so much like in the film, he tries out for the rowing team for the free room and board. Where he meets, and immediately forms a strong bond with, Gale Cleven. The author manages to keep the characterizations true, while still making them their own. They manage to incorporate almost every Mota character in a meaningful way and I especially love the sweet friendship between John and Brady in this one. It deals with the trauma of War and life and also displays a beautiful sense of camaraderie as they form as a team and learn to lean on one another. It’s wonderfully written and the world building is phenomenal. The pace is perfect and the story is compelling and John and Gale’s connection is explored with care. This is my current ‘comfort fic’ and I look forward to reading how it all develops. (And the title is so cute!)

☀️ He may be the Reason by c_goldthorn (@c-goldthorn)

Explicit, Mutual Pining, Romantic Comedy

This a modern au based on the movie Notting Hill and I recommend this one, whether or not you've seen the movie! As someone who has never seen the movie, this fic is my first experience with the plot and I'm loving every minute of it. The author infuses humor and care and love into her stories and you'll fall in love with all of the characters in this one. It's romantic and sweet and angsty and the longing is palpable. I am always patiently waiting for me. (And she has a couple of side stories in the universe posted as well that are very sweet!)

☀️ one way, or another by hart (@blixabargelds)

Explicit, Kidnapping, Strangers to Lovers, Getting Together

Okay, so literally everything that she writes is fantastic. No one quite hurts Gale like she does (lol) and it's done with care and reason and it's beautiful to read. This story though, it's hard to find words to describe it. It's a modern au where Gale orchestrates his own kidnapping (for reasons) and John is the kidnapper. A truly unique plot that is executed so perfectly that I read it twice in one weekend. It's angsty, especially as Gale's circumstances seem to get more and more bleak, yet there is this light, romantic air to it throughout because of the dynamic the author creates between John and Gale. It's FUN. And reading should be fun. It's truly a masterpiece and you'll be hooked from the first paragraph.

☀️ before you say 'cut', wait five more seconds by phlegmatic (@irregularcollapse)

Explicit, Actors AU, Workplace Relationship, Sharing a Bed

She is one of those gold standard creators in my opinion. Not just in the Mota fandom, but just in general. The way she tells a story is captivating and you get the sense that every word written is there for a specific reason. The care she puts into the craft is evident and appreciated and while I’m too shy to have ever really interacted with her, I’m such a huge fan. I could rave endlessly about her work, but onto the specific story I’m recommending! This story follows Gale, an up and coming actor that gets his 'big break' when he's cast as one of the leads in a big movie. He's starring alongside John, who is already an very established name in the industry. They fall into bed (and never really leave for long) and along the way, start to fall for each other. It is clear that this universe the author created means a lot to them. It is so authentic and focused on acting as a craft, as an artform and I learned a lot about the industry from reading this. The turmoil, buzzing under the surface, that Gale feels about his career and his future is so palpable and so vivid, I felt the anxiety along with him. Her version of John in this story is one of my favorites. He's sweet and raw and brash and caring. I really could gush forever about this one. The characterization is so impressive, they're them, but they're also hers and they're layered and real and beautiful. Honestly, just go read it. You'll understand why I rambled and still couldn't manage to say anything eloquent.

☀️ Packages and Pet Names by youllneverrecme (@recmeidareya)

Modern Setting, First Meetings, First Dates, PTSD

Any pet name you could possibly imagine John using for Gale, this author has already thought of them (and more!). In this one, Gale is a war veteran and John is his local UPS driver. I went into this one thinking it would be a silly, funny, sexy story (and it is!), but it also so much more than that. It's tender. And it's sweet and it's gentle. The way this author writes Gale is beautiful. He feels so real to me. The care and thoughtfulness that clearly went into his background as a Soldier is very important to me. And watching him open himself to new things, to John and to love? It's been a wonderful journey to be on. And John in this? Absolutely amazing. He's funny and sharp and soft and he cares about Gale so much. I am genuinely enjoying watching them fall in love in this and I can't wait to read more. Every one should be reading this.

☀️ just stay with me (baby stay with me) by bcoflove (@bcolfanfic)

Teen+, Modern Setting, NYC, First Kiss

This story is so sugary sweet. The author has created a 'Cornerstore AU', on tumblr and posted a fic on AO3 on Super Bowl Sunday and I'm a little obsessed. Gale moved to NYC and ended up in bad living situation. But he finds solace in visiting a corner store where John works. I'm in love with this version of Gale. He's unsure of himself and he's awkward and he's so sweet. And John is a force of nature. Funny and kind and in Gale's corner. I hope the author is inspired to write more for this au, because I'd read a 100,000 words of this.

☀️ Driving In Your Car (I've Never Felt Safer) by Thetrystingtree (@alienoresimagines)

GA, Mutual Pining, Boys in Love, Fluff

One of my favorite things about this authors writing is that it always feels a bit like I’m reading poetry when I read her stories. There’s a lightness, a beauty to the way she weaves words together. It’s vivid and authentic and I can clearly picture the settings and feel the emotions in her stories. This story in particular is such a sweet premise. Gale is tired and John drives him around base in the jeep to allow him to rest a bit. The other night, I was lying in bed and I wanted something calming and gentle to read before I fell asleep. So I went to this authors page and found this story to reread because I knew her words were what I was looking for in that moment. It's sweet and funny and, just like all of her stories, always the perfect bedtime story.

☀️ I Won't Go Where You Can't Follow by stars_remain2 (@stars-remain2)

Teen+, Whump, Violence, Protective John

If you know me, you know I have a weak spot for Gale whump and John being protective and this story has both in SPADES. It is a canon-divergence, looking a what if? scenario where Gale doesn't go over the wall and is punished for his escape attempt. He's beaten while John is forced to watch and it's brutal and painful, but so well written and so beautifully explored. The way the guys rally around Gale to help him get through the march, the way John cares for him, the way Gale is so self-sacrificing...it's all woven together into a fantastic story. The cliffhangers are killing me, but I'm hanging on because it's too good to stop. And I just know some supreme comfort is coming after all of the hurt.

☀️ Looking for Eight by VoluptuosPanic (@weimarweekly)

Explicit, Modern Setting, Rodeo AU, Repressed Feelings, Love

I'll embarrass myself if I go on to much about this fic because it brings me such joy. John is bronc rider and Gale is farrier. In this modern au, they met and spent a few days together on a road trip, years ago and then they reconnect at a rodeo. This story is so calming and so gentle and so tender it will melt you into goo. The authors style is so unique and beautiful. Her words flow together in a way that honestly reminds me of water running over river rocks in a stream. I swear I have a dopey smile on my face while I read each chapter (and then reread it). This fic is breathtaking and wonderful and just one of my favorites I've ever read. I've never read a sweeter version of Gale and John. They're so tender with each other I could melt into goo just thinking about them. Read it!

☀️ cicada season by Swify_Fox (@swifty-fox)

Explicit, Modern Setting, PTSD, Past Child Abuse, Therapy

Oh, Swifty. A fandom staple and a masterclass talent. This fic is no exception. A modern au where Gale is a Phd student, working on an intense thesis breeding a rare breed of frogs and John is a contractor, hired to remodel the house Gale lives in with Crank and Marge. The research that went into this is evident and impressive and makes the story that much more compelling. Gale is practically made of barbed wire in this (for good reasons I dread to learn) and he's so three-dimensional. Each chapter begins with a therapy session for Gale as he works through trauma from his childhood. It's such a well crafted story in every aspect. John and Gale's dynamic is so fun and contentious and full of potential for something more. I'm in love with this one. You can feel the care that went into this one and every word you read means something special. Rachel's mind is truly a marvel and you are missing out if you haven't given this one a go yet.

This was fun! There is so much talent in this fandom and I have been having such a good time reading. As I was making this, I kept thinking of more and more, so I'm sure I'll be making another one of these at some point. 💕

For now though, I'm taking a little break from Tumblr. I'll still be writing and reading and posting on AO3, but I need some time off from social media for personal reasons.

Just wanted to spread some love before I disappear for a little while ❤️

#buck x bucky #mota fanfic #mota fic rec #I hope every one checks out these wonderful stories

42 notes · View notes

gilbirda · 3 days ago

Text

How to write Romance

Hello! This is the second post I'm making as a rough tutorial for writing, based of my method and experience. I'm not a professional writer by any means, but I've been writing for a long long time, and I specialize in writing women and romance.

The objective for this post is so you, the reader, has an idea what to look for or where to start when embarking in the journey of writing romance or a romance story.

Let's go. This is a long one, folks.

Romance Story line Vs Romance Story

Before I go into the details, I'd like to discuss the difference between "romance story line" and "a romance story".

But Gil, those are the same thing!

You'd think that! But nope. The main difference lies on how much space romantic aspects take in the story.

For example, you can have a tragedy with romance story lines. A murder mystery with some romance intertwined. An epic hero journey with some romance on the side. And so on and so forth.

Before sitting down and getting to writing, think what you want to write about: Is this about an epic romance for the ages, or is this about adding romance to a story (and not let it take the main stage)?

Let's take as an example "Pride and Prejudice" Vs. "Pirates of the Caribbean". One is about Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy falling in love and the drama around them; and the other is an epic pirate action movie where Will and Elizabeth are protagonists and their relationship adds to the story but is not just about them.

I want to write a Romance story

Then you really have to sit down and write the story beats with the relationship beats.

Usually the natural flow of the story (first act, second act, third act) will match relationship milestones; and the development of the relationship is the development of the story.

There can still be drama, murder mysteries, etc. but it will serve the purpose pushing forward the main characters' romance story.

For example, the drama could be real life issues getting the way of the couple; or the romantic interest needs to do some growing before proposing.

Also, with Romance Stories you can play with some fun tropes on top of the story itself: Star Crossed Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Childhood Friends to Lovers, etc.

I want to write a Romance story line

In this case, development of the romance takes a step back and doesn't have to match the main story beats.

You will also take into consideration the tips and tricks of this tutorial, but don't have to go deep into much detail and can afford writing the relationship development more "in the background" as much or as little as your story needs it.

For example, you could write a couple getting together at the end, but can write the characters' "will they won't they" beats with the climax of the main story line's arcs — a character receives the Call for Adventure, and leaves behind the romantic interest; a character experiences a devastating loss, and can't really offer romantic interest the attention; a battle leaves main character heavily injured, and romantic interest nurse them back to health.

How do I write a credible Romance

Note how I'm avoiding saying "good" or "bad" romance here. I'm saying credible.

Why credible? Because, in my experience, readers engage more and feel for the characters more if they can believe that what is happening could be real. You write a romance in space, or as pirates, or Regency era stuff — but at the end of the day, you are writing people and people experience emotions in complex ways.

You have to make your readers think "they are so like me for real" at least once.

But how?

Emotions don't exist in a vacuum. You can deeply love someone and still be mad at them; or be frustrated with them; or be sad and not in the best headspace.

There has to be something else going on. Things happen all the time, and the world doesn't stop because you like someone. You have to include more meat than the romance, and explore more circumstances that have nothing to do with Character A and Character B having a crush.

Develop the characters beyond their romance story. Love is great but characters are so much more than that. They should have personal goals, personal drama, individual story lines.

But wait, there's more!

Let's talk more about characters in a relationship

This drinks from some basic character development tutorial (maybe a future post idea? 👀), but regarding romance you should also take into consideration more than the romance.

Feels counterproductive, but it's so so so so important. Before you even consider diving head first into Romance, you should already have solid characters to play with.

Some usual tricks for creating a character include doing a character Bio: Write their likes, dislikes, dreams, favorite food, favorite colors, height, age, etc. Anything you can think of, have it already chewed. (Think making a D&D character sheet!)

For fanfiction writers, understand the character you are writing first. Find their voice and even if you don't have a reference of a good romance already (I'm looking at you, DC comics) try to get an idea how they respond to good and bad things, how do they communicate, how do they like to be loved.

Then, you can use it for Romance.

How?

Easy: Consider what the situation is actually about, not just the romance.

Is it about trust? — How quickly does the character trust? How do they behave with betrayal? Do they have trust issues?

Commitment? — Are they the type that commits fast? Or needs a minute to commit? Do they have commitment issues?

Is it about communication issues? — How? Do your characters speak different languages (literally and "love languages")? Do they struggle with speaking up? Do they hide their feelings to a fault?

Are they incompatible? — Do they have different expectations for physical aspects of their relationship? Do they have little in common? Is the struggle about personalities clashing?

Love is not enough? — Do their circumstances pull them apart even if they do love each other? Is it "not that simple"?

Things you should be careful about

"This drama would be avoided if they had ONE honest conversation"

Classic misunderstanding drama set up. Is very tempting to hinge your drama and character development on one single misunderstanding, and is easy to maintain as long as you don't let the characters make up.

Don't fall for it. Is not as easy as it looks like and a bad execution can derail the story you want to talk about and make your characters completely unrecognizable. Check out this video about "Idiot Plots", which discuss more in depth how hinging the whole plot on one out-of-character misunderstanding is not worth it.

There can absolutely be misunderstandings, but not make it the only thing keeping the story going.

"Big Strong Masc saves Small Weak Femme (and they fawn for their mighty protector)"

(Notice the language used, because I've seen this with all types of ship configuration, not just M/F. )

This is related to deeper issues: Gender roles and patriarchy bullshit, which have no place in fandom.

You can absolutely write Character A saving Character B, but watch out! Characters should be developed on their own and have room to shine without the romantic interest.

Here's my tutorial on Writing Women, and I'm planning on another post to discuss the "strong, independent woman" paradox.

"Character A falls in love seemingly overnight with Character B"

What it says on the tin. It's just not believable. Even people who falls in love fast, don't just make the other person their world overnight.

But Gil, what about 'love at first sight'? That one is cute, and you can definitely write characters meeting for the first time and sparks flying, but there's attraction, and there's love.

Definitely write meet cutes and so on; but acknowledge that there is so much more needed to make a love story work.

"My romance story line suddenly became the main story"

Avoid this as much as possible. If the reader wants romance story, they'd look for straight up romance. Making the relationship suddenly ALL the story is about would be changing the genre mid-story and that's not nice. Is like starting with a murder mystery that switches to a shenanigans slice of life midway.

Then how can I have drama and relationship development?

If we should avoid misunderstandings and character A saving character B, then what would be my romance story about?

Answer: Like any other story development! Write conflict.

Internal conflict — Could be about one character or both; or about their relationship.

Internal conflict is a psychological or emotional struggle that takes place within a character's mind or heart. It involves their inner thoughts, feelings, beliefs, or desires. (source)

You use these to focus on the Character's Journey, and in the context of romance, on how they grow in a relationship. Loving someone else can be the catalyst for a character trying to better themselves, or realizing they need to change.

This is all your conflicts of interests, communication issues, trust issues, etc. Create situations where the drama comes from within the characters and how they themselves get in the way of their happily ever after.

External conflict — How the circumstances surrounding the characters influence the romance.

External conflict is a struggle that occurs between a character and an external force, such as another character, society, nature, or a situation. (source)

Families not approving the relationship, political drama, different species, opposing sides of a war... The world is your oyster.

Or use both! Is so much fun and complex (and credible) when there's layers to why your characters Will They Wont They.

And that's it for now!

I may come back and edit to add and/or tweak something, so keep an eye!

NOTE: These are some tips to write healthy romance stories. If your goal is to depict toxic dynamics or portray toxic relationships on purpose, by all means change and ignore whatever you'd like. Know the rules before you break them!

Happy writing!🙂✌

#Gil's Writing Tutorials #writing #writing tips

53 notes · View notes

etherealval · 4 hours ago

Text

dating chris headcannons | a/n: these were actually so fun to write!! let me know if you guys want more :))

⭑𓂃 he’s the type to always have a hand on you, no matter what. whether it’s resting a hand on your thigh when you’re sitting together, intertwining your fingers absentmindedly, or draping an arm over your shoulders when you walk beside each other. he just likes the reassurance of your touch

⭑𓂃 he loves calling you “baby” more than your actual name. it just rolls off his tongue naturally, and half the time, he probably doesn’t even realize he’s saying it. “baby, pass me that?” , “baby, c’mere.” , “what are you doing all the way over there, baby?” he drags it out when he’s whining, murmurs it when he’s half-asleep, and says it so sweetly in passing that it makes your heart flutter every time.

⭑𓂃 he’s so dramatic about missing you, even if it’s only been a few hours. if you haven’t texted him back in a while, you’ll get something ridiculous like, “i’m wasting away over here, baby. do i even exist to you anymore?” he’ll call you just to sigh dramatically into the phone, groaning about how “life is so boring without you.” and when he finally sees you again, he makes a whole show of it, pulling you into a crushing hug, rocking you side to side, whispering, “never leave me again.”

⭑𓂃 he loves taking pictures of you, even when you’re not paying attention. his camera roll is full of you, some of them are cute, some of them are blurry mid-laugh, and some are just straight up ridiculous. he’s got a whole folder dedicated to candids of you, and he refuses to delete a single one. when he’s traveling without you, he scrolls through them just to feel close to you. and if you ever catch him taking one? he just smirks and says, “can’t help it, you’re my favorite view.”

⭑𓂃 he loves watching you get passionate about something. he could listen to you talk for hours, especially when you get really into it, whether it’s about a book, a movie, or some random niche topic you love. he’ll just sit back, watching you with this soft grin, nodding along, even if he has no clue what you’re saying. and when you realize you’ve been rambling and apologize, he shakes his head. “nah, baby, keep going. i love seeing you like this.”

⭑𓂃 he hypes you up like it’s his full time job. any outfit you wear? “damn, baby, you’re really gonna make everyone jealous today, huh?” any new project you take on? “they don’t even know how lucky they are to have you.” even if you’re just doing something simple, like making breakfast, he’s watching you like you just cured world hunger. “look at my girl, being all talented and shit.”

⭑𓂃 he randomly texts you the most unserious things. sometimes he sends cute messages, like “miss u, come over” or “thinking about u rn , just thought u should know.” but other times, it’s complete nonsense. “if i were a worm, would u still love me?” or “just saw a dog that reminded me of u.” and if you ever ignore him for too long, expect an “hello????? do u hate me now????” followed by an influx of dramatic emojis

⭑𓂃 he loves pulling you into his lap, just because. doesn’t matter if you’re in private or in a room full of people, he’ll pull you onto his lap the second he gets the chance. wrapping his arms around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder, acting like he’s just getting comfortable, when really, he just wants to feel your hips against his. and if you so much as shift against him, he’ll exhale sharply, fingers digging into your hips as he mutters, “you tryna test me right now, baby?”

taglist: @heartsforvin , @sturncakez , @matts-myloverboy , @mattsbitchh , @ilyttmatsa @sturniolosluttt , @emely9274

#etherealval ´ˎ˗#chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturiolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x y/n #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagine #sturniolo triplets

33 notes · View notes

calcifiedunderland · 2 days ago

Text

Pride & Prejudice: A TWSTed AU

A Beautiful Tyrant: V. Schoenheit

Introduction, or Pick another route!

Vil x GN! Reader

Warnings: P&P-level angst and miscommunication, Vil tendencies, talks of stress, the Power of Meddling Friends (ft. Jack and Epel)

Notes: I thoroughly enjoyed writing this part. It took several hours of overthinking, but this is probs my favorite. And I twst-ed Lizzy and Darcy. Hope you enjoy, this has been my contribution to the twst community, thx everyone <3

You smelled Vil before you saw him.

A musky, regal scent wafted into your nostrils and you felt your body tense automatically. Here comes the Queen, you sighed, shifting the stack of script papers in your arms.

Earlier that week, Vil sought you out. When he and Rook finally cornered you in Alchemy lab, he asked (demanded) you help him out with the Film Research Club’s latest production. You weren’t exactly at liberty to say no, because you knew you wouldn’t have a moments peace from Rook, Vil, and any one of Vil’s mob of fans at NRC if you did.

This all wouldn’t have started if Vil hadn’t walked by when you were reading Prejudice and Pride. It was after-hours, and you were reading under the Fairest Queen’s statue on Main Street for a change of scenery from Ramshackle’s dusty sitting room.

As luck (or misfortune) had it, you two started chatting. After you showed him what you were reading, Vil mentioned thoughtfully that he’d been looking for inspiration for a new Film Research Club production. Apparently, Prejudice and Pride was a classic on Sage’s Island, as it was in your world - a classic that Vil thought was just perfect to perform. And wanted you to help with, since you were now reading it.

So, here you were - up at 5am, yawning as the sunrise came up, waiting for Vil who somehow looked very put together (complete with perfume and a full face of makeup and a chic outfit, on a Saturday). It was just you, him, Ortho, and a handful of other club students at the moment.

“Set that over there, Jack,” Vil nodded, and the two of them walked to you. You smiled at Jack, a bit surprised. “Hey, what brings you here?” Your fellow first year smiled back at you, surprisingly energetic despite the early hour. “Vil and I usually run together around this time, he said he needed a hand with the set. I thought I’d help him out.”

You were about to respond when you yawned, stretching a bit. Vil set down a box, side eyeing you, “keep your eyes open, Prefect. I want all your attention.” You sighed, picking up your clipboard, “on it, Vil.”

—•—💜👑💜—•—

You were exhausted.

It was safe to say that, after working for a month with the Film Club, it was tough to get out of bed at 5 in the morning, deal with Vil’s weird iciness, and then trudge through the rest of the day.

Somehow, a conversation about the character dynamics of the two main leads snowballed into Vil thrusting the movie script into your ‘capable’ hands. Apparently, no one else in this world could fully understand the complex relationship that the main characters, Ellis Benner and Mr. Darby, had except you and Vil. When you began protesting, Vil’s sharp gaze locked onto you.

“Enough of this. I will not have this production fail before it even begins, and if it means learning on the job, then so be it. I do pride myself on seeing potential, (Name).” Gingerly, he put a finger under your chin. Maybe the light played tricks on your eyes, but you thought his gaze softened fondly at you, “I wouldn’t give you this if I didn’t think you could handle it.”

And that was how Vil Schoenheit schmoozed you into writing the next blockbuster hit. No pressure, or anything.

So far, the production had gone off without a hitch. You’d been at it for a couple weeks, and had gotten into full swing of things. Vil took the helm as director, while you were doubling as production manager and script writer. You’d lamented to Jack that you were more like Vil’s second-hand when it came to the production. You were glad Jack was popping by a little more often, since some of the work had to be done done before classes began at 8am.

Currently you were going over the script with Rook. A few times, Rook’s flamboyant gestures and over-the-top comments made you laugh, causing a few students to look over. After a while, you noticed that every time you laughed, Vil seemed to look at you with a frown - as if he was mildly annoyed with your amusement. Even when you weren’t laughing, you saw him glance at you out of the corner of his eye. After a while, you had enough.

You leaned closer to Rook quietly. “Rook, be honest. Did I offend Vil?” Rook looked at you, eyes wide. “Pourquoi? Le Roi du Poison doesn’t seem offended by you at all.” You glanced over at Vil. Yep, he was still staring at you, but now his brows were pinched in a deep frown, violet eyes stormy. Rook looked over aghast, “Mais non! He will get wrinkles!”

Vil abruptly rose from his seat and all but stomped over to you and Rook. Stray students jumped away from his path, as if his mere aura made them skittish. You tensed, staring him down.

“Prefect,” he said icily. “Vil,” you responded evenly, looking him in the eye.

“I seem to recall that I put you in charge to look over the script. You don’t seem to be doing that.” You drew yourself up, head raised to look up at Vil, “I found some errors. Rook was helping me.” Vil’s eyes darted to Rook, who smiled pleasantly. “The tricksteur has a keen eye! The production will shine with both your beauties when it is done!” This seemed to calm Vil down.

“Yes, it will…” he murmured to himself, then his eyes snapped to you. “I’ll see you back at the dorm, Rook. Prefect, I expect a full report by tomorrow. We’ll go over the changes together.” Vil marched off, and you sighed heavily. Rook patted your arm affectionately, before giving you a cryptic smile.

—•—💜👑💜—•—

“Cut! Absolutely not!”

You watched Vil with a frown, shifting in your chair, “I didn’t think that one was bad.” For the past few days, Vil wanted the contenders for the main lead and love interest to act out a scene together - a ‘chemistry test’ between actors to see if they’d work well together. Earlier, you’d offhandedly mentioned how you wanted the ballroom dance scene in the script to have a good balance of tension and romance. At that, Vil looked thoughtful, “perhaps we should make sure our leads work well together.”

You were dragged out of your thoughts as the two students acting on the stage muttered to themselves as they stalked off. You hummed, leaning back in your chair, “let’s end it for today. Everyone’s already tired as it is.” As everyone cleared out, you looked at Vil carefully, “we can start again tomorrow. But I really thought those students were fine.”

You couldn’t understand why Vil looked so annoyed. “Prefect, playing the roles of Ellis Benner and Mr. Darby goes deeper than just acting well for a scene. It has to be believable. And I’d like it to be faithful to the book.” You sighed, “is this all because one of them stumbled during the dance? It’s harder than it looks, y’know.”

Vil gave you a pointed look, “no, but both of them should dance better.” He sniffed, “Although I disagree. I’ve made the dance quite simple.” Vil looked over at you, something swirling in his eyes, “even you could grasp it.”

You bristled at his words. “Oh? Even me?” you echoed, frowning at him. Vil nodded, clearing his throat. “Yes. I’ll show you.” Suddenly you were swept to your feet, Vil’s hand in yours, leading you to the stage. His expression was unreadable as he faced you. His voice was uncharacteristically soft, “now, (Name), follow my lead.”

The beginning of the dance’s violin music wafted in the air delicately as you and Vil stepped together. “Focus, Prefect.”

You were definitely focused, if only to make sure you didn’t show how flustered you were. All you could see were Vil’s deep violet eyes, and you were hyper aware of his perfume. You weren’t sure how long you were clasped together, panting, until-

“Hey Vil, I brought the boxes you wanted, where should-?” You nearly jumped out of your skin as you parted from Vil, face feeling hotter than lava. Poor Jack looked baffled, muscling a heavy-looking box with props. You hurriedly straightened your shirt, glancing to Vil. Even he didn’t look fully composed, swallowing thickly.

“Yes, just-“ Vil cleared his throat, “just set them over there. Thank you, Jack. We’ll see you in the morning.” Jack ran a hand in his hair, confused, but nodded and left. You were suddenly aware you were still holding hands with Vil. You quickly let go, abruptly saying “well, we should go too. I- well, good night!” And you ran as fast as you could out of the set, not seeing the forlorn look on Vil’s face.

—•—💜👑💜—•—

“What?!”

You gaped at Rook, eyes wide. He looked equally distressed at the news. Apparently, during Spelldrive practice, Epel had fallen off his broom and gotten injured. “Is Epel okay?!”

“Oui, mon cher, he is alright. I just came from the dorm, the nurse gave him a healing potion. He will be fine, but alas! He will not be able to attend the practice dinner Vil is hosting!” Rook sighed dramatically, hands open wide next to him as he shook his head.

You bit your lip, “do you know if it’d be ok if I went to see him later? I’m sure he’d at least like the company…” Rook’s gaze warmed, “Oui! The company of a friend is always welcome,” he looked outside. “Although, it will likely rain later.”

You glanced out, snorting. “It’s bright and sunny out, Rook. I doubt it’ll rain.” Rook looked at you, mischief in his eyes, “bah oui, tricksteur. A hunter knows.”

—•—💜👑💜—•—

Needless to say, you will never doubt Rook again. Ever.

He said it’d rain, and rain it did. As soon as you got out of the botanical gardens after Herbology, a mini flood rushed your way down the dirt path. You hunched your shoulders and ran up the path to the Hall of Mirrors to get to Pomefiore.

Once you made it to the elegant halls of the Fairest Queen’s dorm, you trudged to the common room. You were about to make a beeline to the dorms, when-

“Great Sevens, Prefect, did you walk through the rain?!” Vil’s voice made your limbs freeze. Your eyes widened. Vil’s eyebrows knit together as he stood up, looking at you. He was oddly quiet, any other criticism halting on his lips. The two of you stared at each other strangely, until a student on the couch cleared their throat, wanting to talk to Vil.

You suddenly found your voice. “I’m so sorry,” you realized you were dripping dirt onto the nice carpet floors, “uh, is Epel in his room?” “Yes” Vil’s eyes bored into yours. You opened your mouth silently, then said “thanks.” You glanced at the other student, before nodding to yourself and leaving.

Silence passed, while Vil stared at your leaving figure after you disappeared down the hall. “By the Sevens, Housewarden did you see their clothes? Dripping water all over the floor,” the student said snobbishly, looking at the trail you’d left. “And their shoes and pants hem just caked six inches deep in mud.” He looked at Vil, thinking his upperclassmen would agree, but a chill went through him as Vil’s violet eyes bored coldly into his. “That’s enough. Now, did you want something or are you wasting both of our times?” The student shut up.

Meanwhile in Epel’s dorm, you were relieved to see him on the mend. He was just glad he could avoid Vil for a bit. In any case, you could tell he was fine because he had no problem complaining with you, which warmed your heart.

You groaned, flopping back onto the mattress. “He just-! Sometimes we’re completely fine with each other, and sometimes he just hates me, Epel!” Your friend just sighed, “look, Vil doesn’t hate you. It’s the opposite really-“ “He’s weird around me!” That got Epel’s attention. He angled himself and listened intently.

You balled up your fists, gritting your teeth. “He just stares at me!” You threw your arms open, “MENACINGLY!”

Epel watched you, unimpressed, piecing together what you said, and Rook’s cryptic words and Vil’s strange fascination with working with you. He hummed, “Maybe he likes the challenge?” You stopped your rant, looking up at him, “huh?” Epel shrugged, “no one else can speak to him like that.” “Not even you?” You teased, nudging him. Epel gave you a look before throwing his now-empty apple juice at you. You dodged it, laughing loudly.

—•—💜👑💜—•—

“Ah, there you are.”

You looked up from your lunch. Across the table from you stood Vil, arms crossed. You felt Epel tense, and you mentally prepared yourself to listen to a long speech.

A chill went down your spine when Vil stated “You can stop looking so tense, Epel. I’m here for (Name).” What could he want? You’d already given him the final script, and castings for the production. This could’ve waited till club time.

Vil began, “I’ve looked over the script, Prefect, and I think it’s good.” Wonderful. “But, I’m going to change one thing,” he inhaled, and looked you in the eye firmly, “You will play the role of Ellis Benner.”

Epel’s fork clattered down onto the plate, and his jaw dropped. You stared back at Vil, stomach churning anxiously. “Vil, I can’t play Ellis, I have no time. Besides, you didn’t have me do any readings-” Vil cut you off, “We’ll discuss this later. For now, go over what you can, and we’ll rehearse together.” As he walked off, you frowned. A single word he said echoed in your mind - ‘together’?

—•—💜👑💜—•—

You rubbed your eyes as you trudged to the set. You held your script in-hand, filled with highlights and written notes in the margins. There was no way today was going to go smoothly. After your mini-scare with Vil in the cafeteria, you didn’t think you sufficiently went over your lines. Sure, Vil was a little overbearing, but hopefully he’d be understanding.

You were surprised to see no one at the set. “Uh, hello?” You said hollowly, peering at the empty set. You were spooked when Vil stepped out into a spotlight. “Prefect, you’re here.”

You put your things down, and walked to him. “Look, Vil, I didn’t get a lot of time to prepare,” you looked around again for good measure, “and I guess the actor for the Darby isn’t here, so we’ll have to postpone it for today.” You couldn’t hide your relief.

Your heart dropped when Vil responded, “There is no need to cancel. I’ve decided on an appropriate actor for Darby.”

“Who?” You asked. Vil looked over at you, something swirling in his eyes, “Myself.” Your eyes widened as Vil took your hands and swept you towards the stage. “We will be going over the confession scene, the one in the rain.”

You blinked, trying to flip to the scene in your script. You hadn’t gone over this part. Still, you guessed you could improvise some lines with Vil, maybe?

“Vil, why do you want to play Darby? I thought the other actors were good. And the ones for Ellis were good, too.” Sure, you knew he always wanted to play the hero, but this seemed sudden. Vil turned to you, a hand on his hip, “I only want the best for this story. Such a classic needs two main leads who do it justice, and who better than you and me?” he sounded haughty, eyes daring you to challenge him.

You sighed through your nose, and launched into the scene without delay. “Fine.” If Vil wanted a good Ellis, you’ll give him a good Ellis. You steeled yourself.

“‘Mr. Darby? What are you doing here? In the rain?’” You asked, chin lifted in defiance.

Vil switched seamlessly, standing across from you. “Ellis, finally. I’ve struggled in vain and I can bear it no longer.” It was like the air shifted as he got into character. “These past few months have been torment. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and l-love you.” Vil took a deep breath, and you couldn’t quite describe it, but you felt his demeanor slip.

“I’ve fought against the inferiority of your status, rank, magical ability-” what? You thought, magical ability? That didn’t come from the book, “- and circumstance, but I’m willing to put them aside.” Vil held your gaze firmly, and you felt your heart in your throat.

He continued, taking a step closer to you, voice becoming thick, “I’m asking you to end my agony, (name). I beg you-” you didn’t realize he’d taken your hands, and your script fell to the ground, “please do me the honor of courting you. Please accept my hand.” You held his gaze, your next line falling silent. Something felt strangely… intimate about this rehearsal.

You were taking too long to deliver your line. Vil frowned impatiently, “(Name), your line please?” You sucked in a breath and took a step back, letting go of his hands. “What?” Vil asked, and briefly, hurt flashed in his eyes. “Vil,” your voice wavered, throat thick, eyes wide, “You said my name. During the line, y-you were supposed to say Ellis, but you said mine.”

You saw Vil slowly realize what just happened. He cleared his throat, and you saw the tips of his ears turn red. Was The Vil Schoenheit flustered? He spoke, “Yes well, I did have an… ulterior motive to casting you as Ellis, and myself as Darby.”

He took a deep breath, holding your gaze, “I didn’t exactly want to tell you like this, but I do indeed…” he ground his teeth, and forced out the words, “have feelings for you. I have tried to stop them, but…” He shook his head, and continued, “Well, I do understand that it may be shocking to you, what with you having no magic or connections in this world aside from Grim, and living in Ramshackle of all places, but I suppose it can’t be helped.”

You looked at him, dumbfounded, as he continued in a matter-of-fact way, “But I can overlook that. You could switch dorms, and come to Pomefiore.” He stopped, waiting for your response. As if it were no other thing you would possibly do. You felt yourself grow angry under Vil’s gaze.

“So, that’s it then?” You looked at him, and he seemed shocked at the anger in your eyes, “you wanted to tell me that despite all of these things you’re willing to associate with me? That I’m not good enough for you but you’ll like me anyway?” Vil’s eyes widened, but your voice grew louder. “Is that what this production is about? You trying to confess in some twisted, insulting way?” Vil frowned, eyes becoming stormy, “You have some nerve speaking like that to me, Prefect-”

“You are so arrogant.” Your eyes stung, “You expect me to date you, even after you said all of that to me? After making me work tirelessly for this stupid production and stressing me out? You don’t even like that you like me.” You laughed humorlessly, “Forget it, Vil. I’m never going to date you.”

You turned on your heel, feeling your eyes well up. You went straight back to Ramshackle and flung yourself onto your bed, ignoring Grim’s yelp and pats on your back, trying to ask you what’sa matter henchhuman?

Back on the set, Vil stared at you as you left, feeling the same way he did after he overblotted. He slowly gathered his things and began trekking back to Pomefiore in silence, replaying every word, action, and emotion as if he were rewatching takes from his movies, wondering if he was acting or if he really was diabolical. He didn’t notice the water dripping from above until he stepped into a puddle, the water soaking his socks. Ah, he thought, looking up to see the grey sky, it’s raining.

—•—💜👑💜—•—

You didn’t return to set for a week. You weren’t quite sure how to feel when Vil didn’t reach out.

After that day, you were sure that consequences known as Rook Hunt would be… well, hunting you. You couldn’t shake off the feeling of being watched, and whenever you turned around to look, you noticed Rook looking at you with a somber expression. Still, he didn’t approach you. Some part of you sort of wished he did.

You couldn’t deny that your days were much shorter and less stressful now that you didn’t have Film Club, and since its members weren’t reaching out to you. Still, sometimes you found yourself a little too idle. Even your friends had noticed your moodiness, but thankfully didn’t tease you much whenever you’d pull out Prejudice and Pride to read. At first, Ace started to tease you that maybe you oughta switch dorms to Pomefiore if you were gonna read the stuffy classics! but when he saw you upset, he laid off.

You still did see Vil, but he simply went about his day normally, never glancing in your direction. Hurt pooled in your stomach whenever you saw him, and even when you scrolled through MagiCam, it felt like you only saw Vil. Advertising a movie. Old clips of his past films. Product promotions. His MagiCam account.

“I heard you quit the Film Club, Prefect. You okay?” Jack asked, setting his lunch tray down. You shrugged, pushing around the food on your plate. Epel nodded, “I overheard from Rook that ya quit, too.” Epel didn’t mention that what he’d heard was Rook waxing poetry to Vil to try and get him to go after you to explain himself, but he didn’t think you needed to know that. Especially when you looks clammy as soon as you heard Film Club.

“The work got a little… much,” you responded after a bit, “that’s all.” Jack rubbed the back of his neck, “Vil’s been looking stressed without you. He’s been trying to find actors fast. He said the original ones he had in mind didn’t work out, he looked pretty bummed out about it.” You tensed, and it didn’t go unnoticed by either of them. Finally, the bell rang, and you all but sprang up to leave, “bye guys, see you after class!”

Epel frowned as you escaped, “they have potions with me after lunch. I’m literally their lab partner.”

Jack’s frown matched Epels. “Something’s going on with them, and it’s been happening before this.” Epel agreed, “I overheard Rook talking to Vil. I’m thinkin’ something went down when the Prefect left Film Club. Not to mention, Vil’s been a real pain in the behind,” he said disdainfully, “He’s been real snappy lately.” Jack shook his head, “I don’t know, I think something else happened. Before (Name) left, I was delivering boxes to the set, and I think I interrupted ‘em or something.” Mentally, he cringed when he remembered that. Talk about being a third wheel, damn.

The warning bell sounded, and the stragglers in the cafeteria stood to get to class on time. Jack crossed his arms, ears twitching. “I have to stop by Film Club later, Vil wanted my help.”

Epel nodded, and as they went their separate ways, Jack thought back to last week.

—•—💜👑💜—•—

A week ago Jack was walking with Vil to the Film Club set. “So, I guess Prefect is gone for good?” Vil’s step faltered, barely noticeable, “I haven’t seen them since,” Vil said in a clipped tone.

“Did they get busy or something? It’s not like them to just leave like that,” Jack commented. Vil frowned, looking frustrated, “I agree. I’ve had to take care of many things for the production. Not to mention, I have to find new actors…”

Jack crossed his arms, “Y’know, I heard a few people were real interested in playing a part. Why not just ask them?” Vil pinched the bridge of his nose, “No one seems to understand. I had a very specific image for this film, and I needed Prefect to-!”

Abruptly Vil sighed, seemingly exasperated. “I’m sorry Jack, I’m not sure what came over me. I just…” Jack noted that Vil didn’t meet his gaze. “I’m just…” Vil seemed to struggle for a word, “frustrated that the Prefect and I didn’t see eye to eye.” Jack rubbed his name, “They were pretty busy when they were doing the production. It was a lot, not to mention all the other stuff they have to do. It’s not easy being Ramshackle Prefect.”

Vil bit his lip, “Well, I suppose it was only natural for them to disagree…” Vil swept his hair over his shoulder, muttering “...even if they were wrong. And I would speak to them, but I don’t think they’d want to see me.”

That was odd, what did he mean by that? Jack was about to question Vil, when the third year nodded to Jack, “I appreciate your help. I should be alright, will you be coming later on?” Jack nodded, deciding leave it at that. “See you later, Vil.”

—•—💜👑💜—•—

Ah, you thought as you shut your book. It’s raining again.

You really didn’t have a reason to continue reading Prejudice and Pride, but you told yourself there wasn’t anything else to do. Even though you did have other books, and finally got a movie player, and a stack of old movies that Sam had given you. You pinched the bridge of your nose. You’d gotten to the part where Darby confessed to Ellis, but you couldn’t stop thinking back to that day. Vil rehearsing lines to you. Telling how much he loved you. Holding your hands, as if he really meant it.

Maybe you wished he meant it. Wait, what?

You quickly shook your head, getting up. Maybe you could watch some movie to clear your head. You glanced over at a box full of books from the attic and the empty bookshelf, and do some cleaning.

Without a second thought, you slid a movie into the player and got to work. You didn’t really bother listening to the movie since you just wanted ambience. You were halfway to stocking the bookshelf when a voice made you drop a book.

“ ‘My my, what have we here?~’ ”

You spun around, squeaking “Vil?!” You were alone. But how…?

“ ‘I was sure you’re little troupe of friends wouldn’t come back. And yet, here you are~’ ”

Your attention snapped to the TV. Vil was in the movie you’d put on? Vaguely, you remembered that Vil once mentioned he’d been in a spy movie. Though you could, sadly, see that he was playing the villain. Still, you could tell that even at a young(er) age, he stood out from his protagonist costars. Vil had always had a way of commanding a room, even back then. Even if the room was a movie set, and you were viewing it through a crappy TV set.

You watched as a grainy, but recognizable, Vil moved across the screen. The cameras seemed to love doing close-ups on him, and you could see the technique he put into his acting. It wasn’t just his body movements, you realized in awe. It was his little facial movements, the way his eyes flickered in smugness. The way his mouth quirked up in that attractive smirk.

The movie protagonist shouted at Vil’s character, “How could you do this?! You’re so cruel! You’re a tyrant who doesn’t care about anyone!”

That’s not true. You snorted to yourself and picked the fallen book up. You mused to yourself as you shelved the book, Vil was strict, sure, but it wasn’t like he did things because he didn’t care. You found your eyes wandering back to the TV screen, some emotion blossoming in your chest. Rather, he did things because he cared too much.

You thought back to when you were filming with Vil a few weeks ago. Sure, you didn’t exactly like being stressed out with the production, but some part of you did miss it. You couldn’t exactly put your finger on it though. Or why it hurt when you saw Vil or Rook. You chalked it up to feeling bad about ditching him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to even talk to him, let alone apologize. You tried reading P&P to get your mind off it, but every time you sat down, you thought about Vil being Darby. And then you couldn’t focus.

As you were lost in you thoughts, the movie did a closeup on Vil. Maybe it was because you just hadn’t seen him a while, but you were mesmerized watching him in his element. Or maybe… You sat down on the couch, rubbing your arms, maybe you missed him.

When you first arrived to Night Raven College, you didn’t know anything about this world, much less its celebrities. When the VDC (SDC) rolled around and you became acquainted with Vil, you didn’t know who he was. Maybe that was why you eventually came to respect him, even if you didn’t always agree with him. You weren’t fully blinded by the stardom, but somehow you could understand why his fans liked him, without having to watch all his movies and interviews. You hadn’t admitted it to anyone, but eventually, you started to like him, definitely not in a fan way. And it freaked you out, but you tried to keep your crush-crush in check. After all, it wasn’t weird to have a celebrity crush. Even if you had a micro crush on your friend, who happened to be a celebrity.

You kept it under wraps, to the point where you didn’t really flinch when he interacted with you. So when he asked you to help with Film Club, you thought you would be just fine. Your crush had faded, and that was that. Or so you thought. And then that day happened, and you were back to being confused again.

You took a shaky breath, realization filling your core as you watched Vil move across the TV screen, laughing at the protagonist. Oh, great sevens. You still liked Vil. And you brutally told him off. You didn’t even hear him out. You bit your lip as Vil’s character was kicked down by the protagonist, a villain defeated. What have you done?

—•—💜👑💜—•—

Epel didn’t always like Vil’s lessons, but now he was sorta glad he had them.

It wasn’t always easy dealing with the endless etiquette lessons, but the physical lessons were alright. Especially when the endurance and grace lessons came in handy to sneak around. Epel may not have been Rook, but he could sneak easily around the dorm when he wanted to. Especially now.

It was starting to get late, and Epel was tiptoeing to the Pomefiore kitchens to sneak in a little snack. Vil usually went to bed earlier for “his beauty rest,” and usually Rook wouldn’t trouble him. As Epel closed the fridge door, triumphantly holding his contraband goodies (some beef jerky and a bottle of Harveston’s finest apple juice), he was startled to hear voices from the dorm laboratories.

“-so utterly ridiculous. The nerve! After I put together the whole production!”

Vil was still awake? Epel ducked behind a large plant and peeked through the foliage. Vil was in his dorm uniform (improperly dressed for lab, Epel noted), goggles on his face, dorm crown crooked, and hunched over the workbench as he mashed something angrily with a mortar and pestle looking frazzled. Rook, meanwhile, was properly dressed for lab, in his lab coat and goggles, shaking his head. “I see, Roi du Poison. Such a shame they quit, the film would have been magnifique with your combined beauties!~”

Vil huffed, tossing his bangs over his head. “The Prefect worked just as hard as I did for this film! Surely they cared about it? And after all that time working together with me, I thought- I thought they’d at least see it through!” Vil gave the pestle one last smash! and promptly dumped the contents into the bubbling caldron. Whatever was inside it hissed loudly and began spewing green fumes, and Rook took off his hat to fan it away from their faces. Vil turned back to his workbench, frowning at his potions book.

“I don’t understand.” Vil angrily stirred the cauldron, his gaze so burning it could boil the mixture. “Couldn’t the Prefect see that I only had their best intentions with this production?! And I was willing to work with them, despite them having no experience with film!”

Epel suddenly wondered if Vil was talking about the film, or himself. Rook was quiet for a moment, and quietly said, “Mon Roi, I believe you’ve pushed them too much.” Vil stopped stirring, but didn’t turn to Rook. He continued, “the Tricksteur’s beauty is not rooted in what they could be, but what they are. After all, that is what drew you to them, was it not?”

Epel’s eyes widened, and he stumbled a bit after being hunched down. The leaves on the plant rustled, but it seemed that Vil didn’t notice, lost in thought. Rook’s eyes darted in Epel’s direction, and he stiffened. Vil stammered out distractedly, “Yes, well, I- hmm…” He looked troubled at Rook’s words.

Rook took the stirring stick from Vil gingerly, “Vil, you should go to bed. You will need your beauty rest for the day ahead!” Vil sighed, shucking off his goggles and taking the dorm crown off his head, “You’re right, Rook. Thank you, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Epel scrambled back towards the wall as Vil passed him, purple dorm sleeves brushing the plant. He heard Vil mumbling to himself, “the Prefect… maybe I should…?... No…”

Epel sighed in relief, and was about to sneak off when Rook’s shadow loomed over him. “Monsieur Pommette, how lovely to see you.”

Epel yelped, hiding his snacks behind his back even though it didn’t matter now. Rook towered over him. “I presume you overheard us, oui?” Epel scrambled up, trying to compose himself. “Y-yes, Vice Housewarden.” Epel sighed, here comes the punishment- “Then perhaps you could speak to the Prefect?” Rook asked, a hand on his hip.

Epel’s eyes widened as Rook continued, “I believe there has been some misunderstandings between our Roi du Poison and our dear Tricksteur. Perhaps you’d be willing to investigate?” Epel already was interested in this, (if only to cheer you up), but Rook sweetened the deal. “I can get you out of that etiquette dinner you’ve been so dreading?” Epel grinned and nodded, “Deal!”

Rook sighed, but looked pleased. “Ah, to choose missing a meal of beauté… but such is what we give up for friendship.”

—•—💜👑💜—•—

“Alright Prefect, see ya later,” Epel waved as you left the cafeteria early with Grim. You wanted to catch Professor Crewel before homeroom to ask him about an Alchemy assignment, and Jack and Epel were only too happy to see you off. Once Ace and Deuce headed off too, the two of them got to work debriefing (gossiping).

After a few minutes, they were done. “... so that’s what I heard from Rook,” Epel finished. Jack’s brow furrowed, “Sounds kinda like the Prefect and Vil don’t really know how to deal with each other.”

Jack leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms in thought. His ears twitched, “Y’know, Vil wants my help with fixing one of the light beams on set tomorrow morning. It’ll just be me and him…” Epel’s eyes widened, and a small grin grew on his face, “an’ Prefect said they’d be waking up early anyway to finish an Alchemy assignment.”

Understanding passed between the two of them, smirking.

—•—💜👑💜—•—

Turns out, it’s actually pretty hard to get you out of Ramshackle when you’ve already locked in for Alchemy.

“Epel, I’m almost done. What could you possibly want?!” Your friend was already dragging you by the wrists out the door, spewing a few Harveston-flavored phrases you couldn’t quite make out. “Y’aint gonna stop m’fr nothin!”

“I promise, Prefect, just follow me-” Epel grabbed your wrist and began pulling you. For a small guy, he had a lot of strength. “Dude, calm down. I’m coming- wait, Epel-!”

Instead of taking you to the library, Epel dragged you to towards Main Street, where Vil had the production set up. “Epel, where are we going?! I’m not done with Alchemy!” Epel grunted, “Yer jus’ gonna have ta trust me!” Dammit Prefect, he was halfway to tossing you over his shoulder and hauling you to the set like a sack of potatoes.

You soon relented though, feeling as if Epel would tear your arm out of its socket if you struggled any more. “Fine…”

Meanwhile, Jack was running out of things to stall Vil with. Vil tapped his foot, arms crossed and frowning slightly, “Well? I believe that takes care of everything, Jack. I’d like to get back to the dorms.” Jack flinched, “Ah…”

Jack’s ears twitched as he heard you and Epel squabbling in the distance. “So Vil!” Jack moved, keeping Vil’s attention on him so Vil’s back was to the path. He rubbed the back of his neck, “You remember when you said you wanted to talk to Prefect about what happened?” Vil rose an eyebrow, immediately suspicious, “Yes…?”

“Uh- well…” Jack cleared his throat, looking over Vil’s shoulder. “Looks like you’re gonna have to face it sooner and not later.”

“What?” Vil��s eyes widened. You struggled against Epel’s hold, his hand still tight on your wrist. You narrowed your eyes at Vil’s back. “Epel, why…?” At your voice, Vil spun around, and panic flashed on his face. There you were, the rosy dawn light washing over you, better than any stage lighting could ever hope for. “Vil,” you said, swallowing thickly.

“We oughta leave you two,” Jack said abruptly, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but here. Epel nodded, “R-right!” Soon, it was just you and Vil.

You looked away, feeling too nervous to look at him. “Vil, I…” He quietly cut you off, tone gentle. “Prefect, would you walk with me?” You looked up at him quizzically, and nodded. He lead you out of the set, to a nearby bench outside. You gazed out at the rising sun, breathing in the chilly air. You tried again, guilt eating at you, “I’m sorry for what happened that day.” You bit your lip, looking at the ground and away from Vil, “I said a lot of hurtful things to you. I know you didn’t mean it like that but…”

“No, (Name). You were right to be upset.” Your breath hitched, and you turned to Vil. He was looking at you with a soft, almost… mournful look. “I… also said some things I shouldn’t have. And I…” he took a deep breath, “I didn’t realize at the time how overworked you were. I never meant to put that kind of stress on you, I just… I wanted to push you to be the best. But I never wanted to change you.”

Your eyes widened. You never thought you’d get a genuine apology, let alone from Vil, but you could see that he meant it. You were stunned, but Vil took your silence to mean that you were angry at him still. He rushed out, “N-not that it’s an excuse. How I behaved was…” Vil trailed off, and you could feel the tension leave you.

“And,” Vil said softly, “I suppose I wanted to play a role that wasn’t the villain. And this role… was the best way to do that.” He laughed humorlessly, “I guess, in trying to not be the villain, I became just that to you. For that, I…” Vil took a deep breath, “I’m sorry, Prefect. Truly. And I understand if you… don’t wish to see me again.”

Your eyes widened, and Vil looked away. You gently touched his hand, “Vil, at first I was kind of mad about how much work I had to do…” You saw him purse his lips, but you continued, “But I’m not mad at you, Vil. And I’d be really hurt if I didn’t see you again.”

Vil’s eyes seemed to shine at your words, “I also confess that I’ve tried to separate myself from the thought of you, but I’m afraid it’s done quite the opposite. Prefect, I truly meant everything I said that day.” His gaze was soft but nervous, “You truly have bewitched me body and soul. And I suppose I’m asking for your heart,” he said, looking away.

You breathed out a laugh, inching closer to him. You gently put your fingertips to his jaw, turning his face towards yours, “Don’t worry,” you smiled, eyes shining, “it’s already yours.” Vil’s smile mirrored yours, and slowly he closed the gap between you two, pressing his lips against yours.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and the two of you shifted around on the bench. Vil’s arm went around your waist, and his hand rested beneath your jaw holding you in place. One of your hands drifted down towards his collarbone, over Vil’s heart. After what felt like forever, you pulled away, smiling so widely it felt like you’d never stop. You and Vil locked eyes, and you both chuckled breathlessly.

Epel fist pumped quietly behind the tress, “Finally! Took ‘em long enough.” Jack beamed, tail wagging wildly. “Glad to see they’re back to normal.” Epel grinned, “maybe now, Vil’s gonna be distracted n’ I can-”

Jack suddenly straighted up, feeling a chill down his back. “Uh, Epel-”

At that moment, Rook landed from the trees behind them, clapping his hands on their shoulders. “Ah, what a miracle love is~!” Jack jumped, ears and tail standing straight up. Epel let out a small shriek, heart beating wildly. Rook smiled obliviously, “You should be proud of the part you’ve played!” He sighed happily, watching the two of you like you were a stage opera, “Truly magnifique~”

You giggled into Vil’s shoulder, “do they know that we know they’re there?” Vil hummed, nuzzling his cheek against your head, “Rook will deal with them.” You sighed blissfully, deciding not to deal with that and instead bask with Vil in the setting sunlight, your head on his shoulder. In that moment, his perfume had never smelled sweeter.

~END

*smacks fic* this oneshot can fit so much overthinking in it

But seriously, thank you all so much for your support and patience!! I’m glad people still like this series lmao. Hope you liked the fic 😄 take care shrimpies~

Taglist: @cerisescherries , @eclecticprincecollector, @ars-tral, @thehollowwriter, @twst-eeps, @casperandcats, @ttokkisbee, @mitsuriswaifu, @parad-ice-lostandfound, @sad-sie, @moyo5653

(If your user is bolded, I wasn’t able to properly tag you 😅)

64 notes · View notes