#if it's too vague he WILL assume he's overthinking it

[sunfollows]

i think. harper deserves to be chased after actually.

[weirdmageddon]

i love these tags this person is so right

actually, can you imagine if dave was raised by B1 roxy?

i wanna get into this actually

(ok i had to spend a few hours rewriting this because IT DIDNT FUCKING SAVE AFTER FIVE HOURS OF WRITING WHEN MY COMPUTER UPDATED WHILE I WAS AFK so it would mean a lot to show this post some appreciation. i LOVEEE hearing what other people have to say)

even though these things mom does are presented in an extravagant, kitsch, jokey way, her intentions always came from a place of sincerity. she is simply Funnie

but rose reads too far into it and assumes things that aren't there, that her mother is passive-aggressively feigning interest in rose's interests simply because the things she does are so extra. "why do all of this if not to mock me"

im telling you right now if dave lived in this household he wouldn't assume antagonism, he'd go,

don’t forget who LITERALLY patented tangible jpeg artifacts as their post-scratch adult self and scattered shitty scummed up statue of liberties all over the planet. theres no way some of that overboard artful shit wasnt post-ironic / circling back around to genuine funny sincerity

dave's natural state is funny sincerity like roxy. he's had the natural capacity for this type of humor from the start and this is the direction he goes towards when he grows out of his brother's shadow by the end of the comic. dave and roxy share an earnest “so bad its good” type of humor

(lots more under the cut; the length of this meta analysis just got unwieldly with all the pictures and whatnot)

despite the alcoholism, roxy is a supportive mother. she's not the ideal guardian but hells of a lot more supportive of her kid than bro is. if she knew dave's interests she would totally indulge in them with some over the top silly goofy haha shit as a genuine gesture simply because she loves him

rose isn't too keen on it though. but she is more similar to dirk in her natural state of thinking of overthinking shit and assuming the worst, like the tags said

and yes dave got the sweet cuddly yet sometimes backhanded ouppy gene from roxy, probably even moreso lol

roxy's even said rose "sounds like girl dirk"

side tangent here, but this is something i wanna talk about.

i dont think bro should ever be in custody of children ever but if theres anyone who would be up to the task it's rose probably. i know she'd be able to keep up with him. not only does she have a defined personality (dave is more malleable and absorbs his environment like a sponge), if anyone can pick apart B1 dirk's batshit brain and probably be right on the money it's her. lil cal has been pumping patriarchal nonsense into bro's head and rose would be able to bring the fucking facts to the table without losing her own and being a living example of a badass little girl. i also don't think bro would try to force masculine roles onto rose like he did with dave, seeing as she is a girl, so she would actually have more of a leg up and get some passes that dave was never afforded. and rose wouldn't stand idly and accept any bullshit; she is no doormat. and i think this would earn bro's respect

but anyway, from this, couldn't we conclude roxy "sounds like girl dave"?

yeah okay. we havent even gotten into their penchant for funny typos or misspeaks, deliberate or otherwise

so, dave's environment

the sentiment "god you hope you can be as good as your bro at this some day" might have been genuine at the time when he idolized bro but of course he's not able to express that in any sort of sincere fashion because he's in dirk's fucking household. and this level 10 irony shit isnt doing dave any favors

his role models were the Internet and a vague idea of what Bro was like. So he built up his facade based on irony–not the literary definition of irony, as Rose might be quick to point out, but a popular concept of irony based on the idea that things that didn’t make sense actually made sense in some roundabout way. As a master of irony, Dave probably reasoned, he could see in a way other people couldn’t why a world that was scary and didn’t make sense really did make sense, and could therefore convince those people that he was superior to them. And he would wield his knowledge to maintain the appearance of superiority by calling everything ironic and pretending he didn’t care about things that didn’t make sense, and he would use walls of vaguely rhyming words to keep everyone at arm’s length so they wouldn’t discover his insecurities (source)

roxy's style is the embodiment of post-irony. being raised by mom lalonde would be like being raised by joel vinesauce ok

what can i say ….. (getting meta about this actually, hussie got these jpeg wizard wallpapers from a spyware website. link takes some time to load because internet archive)

rose is quick to read post-irony as actually being a joke/insincere, which in bro's case would be true. but i believe dave's natural instinct, outside of the influence of bro, is to read post-irony as genuine, which is exactly how mom serves it. we see this as early as act 3 from him; he understands her motives better than rose does herself:

and in act 6 intermission 2 i think it's pretty clear

but the thing is, it's always genuine from her. dave wouldn't have to second guess it because he's not one to naturally second guess someone's sincerity; that was learned due to his bro being virtually unassailable

there two types of ironies at play here:

seems like a joke, is actually genuine (roxy)

doesnt seem like a joke, is actually a joke (dirk)

you can make the argument that the second is is more psychologically destructive because it makes you question the reality of what is genuine sentiment and what isn't. dave never knew what was genuine and what was irony so he just sort of existed in this sincerity-ironic limbo and always did the opposite of what he genuinely felt on principle even if it always did originate from a genuine place.

"it just a joke bro i was just being ironic i dont actually x" is so much more trust-breaking and psychologically damaging than "wait are you being serious" / "i am being so fucking fr rn davy gravy" / "ok thats actually pretty fucking awesome. giant ass wizard statue" / "RIGHT"

how much about dave would change do you think? his character arc would be completely different for one thing, i think he'd have it good aside from mom's alcohol issues. he'd be left with the sweet and funny parts of him that we see at the end of the comic. the fake coolguy stuff is out, but this remains. this is dave in his element and we see it as early as act 1

he'd probably have no shades growing up in the lalonde residence* either cause those were given to him by bro straight out of the crater as an extension of his own cool image. and john gave dave ben stiller’s aviators for his 13th birthday to replace them so he could “spread his wings”

dave said he was wearing them for the ironies but i kind of doubt it. maybe post-irony but there was some reacharound to it being genuine because dave never put those pointy anime shades on his face again.

*though... it’s kind of hard to imagine him without his shades at all? B2 dave still got stiller’s shades from stiller himself so maybe getting them is a universal constant. i can imagine mom getting him them as a birthday gift cause shes pretty wealthy and probably could buy it out in an auction. but also itd be cool if john still gave him it as a gift

dave is actually a lot more genuine and easy to read than he lets on even when grappling with his upbringing with B1 dirk (again, see this post). this can be seen all throughout he comic but a good example is the evolution of thoughts about his interest in the preserved dead things in his room:

if B1 roxy was dave's guardian he probably WOULD have pursued paleontology because she wouldve indulged him in it and probably find it cool and worthwhile to pursue, instead of allowing dave to flounder under ironic detachment, being poisoned by irony to the point of gaslighting himself into believing he doesnt actually believe he thinks this shit is cool. even if it was indulged in this such a way; a superficially kitsch and ironic appearing presentation, it comes from a genuine place and inspires genuine interest. just read the comments.

basically, i think if B1 roxy raised dave, their relationship would have a surface level appearance of being bizarre or over-the-top but they’d have an unsaid mutual understanding that it’s completely in earnest and just build on each other's funny and absurd gestures of affection. rather than seeing it as one-upping each other, it'd more like collaboration of some silly bullshit that you take a step back and look at full and just say, "fucking incredible"

speaking of paleontology, mom had the proto-ectobiology lab. maybe they'd be able to use the equipment to appearify paradox ghost imprints of the dead shit to create paradox clones of things from the cambrian era??? sounds like a fun mother son bonding activity. and theyd actually put the sciencey shit in the household to use

oh god i know exactly the kinds of music shed listen too also growing up as a teen in the 80s. she on that (post)-punk/art rock/new wave/new romantic mtv stuff. XTC shit fr. this is a B-52S HOUSEHOLD. maybe the associates for the campy melodramatic flair. so he gets to keep the record on his shirt cause he is an enjoyer of the shit in her vinyl collection. dave would still gravitate towards musical expression and music itself but of more variety outside of just rap, with an 80s-90s, even 70s flavor due to mom’s influence. see this for perhaps a glimpse. ​she probably visited new york city a lot for business trips and because the music scene was cool as hell around that time, imports came straight from jfk airport, she probably got in on that a bit and have remnants in the form of vinyls and cassettes. in this way she could be distributing void to dave (influencing him with forgotten / presently irrelevant music). now he can REALLY rave about bands none of his friends have heard of. “hey davy grvay watcha listenin to” (he holds up vinyl cover) “omg snakefinger”

btw dave lalonde would look like this to me

[bernardsbendystraws]

Pink Petals

Chris Sturniolo x Reader

See pinned post for (series) masterlist and (oneshots) masterlist and more.

Summary: Chris had a past with a few girls who had left him burned. Y/n had succumbed to the utter tragedy of giving up on her high school sweetheart a while ago. Chris walks into Y/n’s flower shop, searching for  a bouquet of flowers for a girl. A blind date takes the lovelorn pair into fate’s hands. Chris isn’t holding back his true colors anymore. He’s a true romantic. Handwritten letters, cheesy compliments…and maybe some flowers. 

Warnings: 18+. This series contains mature themes, read at your own risk. (SMUT, angst, parental troubles, financial hardships, and more. Don't like, don't read.) This warning is made for all parts.

A/N: To be added to the taglist, send a request in my inbox or comment on the pinned post. I'm far more likely to see requests sent to my inbox.

With love and big tits, Rose.

Part Two: Don't Be Shy...

The familiar surroundings passed by as Chris drove the car. I could see Rebecca’s house, smiling at the thought of Austin and Madison. The perfect pair had lingered in my mind with excitement. Words had already been rehearsed as I imagined telling them the events of the date so far. 

And it wasn't even over yet.

Soon enough, Chris had come around and guided me out of the parked car. I smiled at the feeling of his hand grasping mine slightly tighter as he tugged us towards the sand of the beach. My nerves made my cold hands shakily hold his. I sucked in a deep breath, willing to calm my anxiety.

Peeping to my right, I could vaguely see my shop from the corner of my eye. Next to it, the ice cream parlor was adorned with a couple of customers on the patio. The red hair illuminated by the suns glow made me smile. Rebecca. She sat across one of the outdoor tables from a man. I assumed it was the one she had gossiped about a few days ago, rambling on about his gentleman-like behavior.

Maybe, I'd tell her about Chris too.

“Here, let me hold your shoes so you don’t get sand in them.” Chris suggests. I look down at his outreached hand, tilting my head with a grin as I slip off my shoes and hand them to him. He holds his own shoes by the laces, his socks tucked in them. 

Struggling to get a secure grasp on my shoes, I giggle. “I can carry them, don’t worry–” 

“Nope,” he interrupts. “Here, get on my back.” he turns around, slightly bending his knees as I look at him with a questioning glance. My eyes wander around the surroundings, finding the shore and shops nearly barren of any people besides a couple of elderly locals I could somewhat recognize. 

“Don’t overthink it, just come on.” he says, looking at me over his shoulder. 

With furrowed eyebrows and a lack of movement, Chris starts to make his way over to me. I hold my hands in front of myself, surprised as I feel my palms lay flat on his chest. My eyes glance upward, catching his piercing gaze as he smirks down at me. 

“Come on. I promise I won’t drop you, okay?” he says. 

Letting out a gruff sigh, I nod my head hesitantly. Chris turns around once more. I wrap my arms securely around his neck, jumping as I feel his hands clasp around my thighs, supporting me. A wave of heat rushes up my spine with the close proximity. I nearly forget to breathe as he soothes his fingers on the underside of my thigh. 

I really like how his hands feel on me.

“There ya go.” he praises. 

Tension rises in my gut from his subtle words, twisting a feeling of electricity emitting from my veins. I rest my chin down on his shoulder, seeing his eyes trace over to meet mine with a sly chuckle falling from his lips. 

“Good?” he asks. 

“Mhm.” I hum out. 

“Good.” he mentions. 

With that, his steps trail back towards his car. I cringe while he walks on the uneven, probably uncomfortable street pavement. One of his hands drops from my thighs, the other clutching on roughly into my leg. I swallow thickly at the vulgar touch, focusing on keeping my breaths even and quiet. 

He opens his back car door, gently setting in both of our shoes before shutting the vehicle. Locking the car, he shoves his keys back in his pocket before both of his hands hold to the bottoms of my thighs. My ears shutter with a wave of bliss at the closeness of his fingers. My arms mindlessly tighten, his hair tickling my arm bringing me out of my trance as I attempt to relax back onto him.

“Still okay back there?” he asks. 

“Oh, yeah…I’m good.” I say. I cringe at the sudden change of my voice, a higher tone resulting from the nerves coursing through my body. 

“Okay,” Chris acknowledges, rubbing his thumbs simultaneously through the denim material of my jeans. The saliva gathering in my mouth nearly drowns me. I swallow, cringing at the volume of the action as I hear Chris chuckle. “Do I make you nervous?” he laughs out. 

Getting defensive, I immediately start shaking my head from side to side. “No, you…just shut up.” I mutter out, accepting defeat. 

The soft laugh echoes into my ears once more. His hands clasp tighter around my thighs, making my breath hitch in my chest. “That’s okay,” he mumbles. He bends down slightly, allowing me to hop off onto the sand as the golden sunset glow shines onto the ocean. 

“I, uh,” my eyes drift back towards him, seeing his figure turn to face me as he stands tall. I hold my breath, watching him step closer to me. I feel his chest ever so slightly as it rises with each breath. The distracting sensation is groveled by his hand trailing lightly up my arm with the tips of his fingers. 

His lips are so close to mine.

“I think I like making you nervous.” he whispers out. 

My eyes widen with anticipation. I watch as his gaze drops to his hand tracing upward, stopping as he runs his fingers through the side of my hair with a delicate precision. “I, um,” 

The words mindlessly from my thoughts, a blank void consuming me. His stature crouches down, his lips inches away from mine as I tilt my head upward without conscious intention. “You…” Chris trails off, trying to retrace my words. 

“I,” my eyes flicker from his and down to his lips, seeing him doing the same as I crumble underneath the warmth of the fading sun and his blue stare. “I…I think I like it too.” I breathe out. 

Chris' lips turn upward into a smile, his eyes squinting with a devious, yet innocent glint. “Yeah?” he asks. I swallow thickly, nodding with a slow movement as our noses brush against each other with a tickling sensation. “Is this okay?” he asks. 

His lips nearly an inch apart from mine leave my mind with no answer except for a subtle upward shake of my head. His fingers cautiously tighten softly in my hair as I let my eyes flutter shut. My chest burns with excitement as I wait for the delicate press of his lips on mine. 

I feel his nose graze over my jaw, his warm breath fanning over my neck. A pucker erupts through the silence, my body nearly quivering internally as he presses a kiss to the side of my neck. The tip of his nose trails up smoothly, stopping at the side of my mouth.  

“You’re so pretty.” he whispers out. 

Before a response can be formed from my cloudy mind, his lips are pressed against mine. Softly, yet with pressure devastatingly agonizing. My eyes widen open with shock before fluttering shut from the tingling warmth of his lips moving on my own. His hand in my hair tangles further back, grasping the back of my head, as the other wraps around my hip and pulls me closer to him. The movement brings an imbalance to my weight as my hand reaches around and grabs the back of his neck securely and hesitantly. 

All I feel is a burning excitement, my body wishing for more as his lips slowly pull away from mine. I go to open my eyes, but his hand on my hips tugs me impossibly closer as his mouth hungrily lands onto my own with more passion. 

His lips on mine felt incomparable. It just felt right. Although my hands shook with excitement, wanting more...I could stay like this forever. Him against me, wordlessly exchanging a devotion of something unexplainable.

I let my hand wander upward, plunging through his hair. Urges overcome my senses as I let myself get lost in the bliss of the proximity and passion. Our chests thumb against each other with racing heartbeats. 

Pulling back for air, my eyes open to catch a glimpse of the nearly completely sunken sun. I heave in deep breaths, looking over to witness his eyes still closed and his lips parted with a plump, pink hue. My cheeks tighten with a smile. I resist the urge to touch my still pulsating lips, admiring the sight of him slowly opening his eyes. 

I can see my lipgloss on the corners of his lips.

The little piece of me laced in his appearance makes my bones melt. Like the after effects of a romantic scene in a movie, my heart started to beat a little louder. The pronunciation from the organ reminded me, screaming the capacity it could hold.

It only ever did that for my grandma and Taylor for so long. No matter how many times I had sloppily laid my lips on another person...it never looked that good--that right.

As he looks at me softly, he smiles. My heart puddles into mush as he reaches for my hand behind his head, gently grasping it and pulling our hands down between our sides. “Fuck, you really are perfect.” he compliments in a hushes tone. 

I look away, fighting a smile at the sweet words. I feel his hand grasp tighter onto mine, tugging me further as we continue taking steps into the gentle sand towards the shore. “Sorry, I just love getting you all nervous. It’s cute–you’re cute.” he confidently announces. 

I look in front of us, rolling my eyes as I shake my head with disbelief. “Thank you. I…thank you.” I acknowledge. 

Pulling us to a stop, Chris sits on the sand. I look next to him, bending at the knees to sit on the sand. As I crouch down, Chris pulls my hand to his chest. I stop my actions, looking at him with questioning eyes as he shifts his gaze from me to the ground. 

“You, um..” he licks his lips. “If you want–you could sit on my lap or between my legs. You know, to get more comfortable.” he suggests. 

The smile overtakes my face as I tilt my head at him. “Won’t that be uncomfortable for you?” I point out. 

He shrugs. “I don’t think so, you don’t have to. I was offering, I…” 

I rest my hand on his thigh. I smirk, feeling his grasp on my other hand tighten at the sudden touch. “Do you want me to, Chris?” I ask. 

The nerves subside as I expect him to shrink under my touch. Instead, his grin widens as he licks over his teeth. “I’d love it, actually.” he says. 

The smooth confidence in his voice brings my chest to tighten with a short breath. “Come on, don’t be shy.” he mentions, patting the ground in front of him between his legs. I stand back up, crouching shyly and turn my body to lean against his as I sit down. His arms automatically wrap around me, a sigh of contentment slipping from my lips mindlessly as my cold hands gravitate to his arms. 

“Oh my fuck!!” he exclaims, shuttering his arms tighter around me from the ice touch of my hands.

My eyes shut closed tightly with embarrassment, my hands falling in a pile into my lap. “I…sorry.” I say under my breath. 

“Wait,” Chris lets his arms tangle tighter, his hands reaching and clasping my own. “--let me warm you up, yeah? You just…caught me off guard is all.” he laughs out. 

I smile, leaning further into him as his embrace clouds rays of warmth onto my skin. The sun peeks just barely above the horizon, the golden glow dissipating with each passing second. 

“You know,” I feel his warm breath against my scalp as he talks. “--I didn’t really have much expectations for this date, but…I…” he peeks over my shoulder, glancing down to let his eyes meet mine as I turn towards him. “--I’m really having a good time with you. You’re…you’re someone I want to know, if that makes sense.” he explains softly. 

My stare melts into an aura of somber with his words. I let my body relax with each breath, leaning further and crumbling in his arms. “I…” I trail off, admiring his features as the golden sunlight illuminates his face. “I feel the same way…I…I’m glad I didn’t bail.” I laugh out. “I really wanted to, but I...I’m really glad I didn’t.” I say, looking up as his arms and hands squeeze around mine. 

His blue orbs observe my eyes shifting from each of his irises, trailing over my face as I let myself relax under his gaze. “I’m really glad you didn’t either. If I’m being honest…this is my first date in a while.” he admits with a sigh. 

As his eyes shift up towards the ocean, I tangle my fingers upwards and in between his clasping around my hands. I tighten the ligaments, watching as his eyes trace down to my face with an unreadable look. “Hey,” I let my head lean onto his chest, watching his expression paint into a brightened glow. “--it’s mine too.” I comment. 

The confession seems to release a tension as his chest heaves in slowly, his back becoming more relaxed. “I…I don’t know exactly what to say. I just…let me get to know you more, hm? What do you say?” he presses. 

I wander my eyes towards the dimming sky. I squint my eyes, humming. Pretending to think, I feel his chest vibrate with a light laugh at my antics. Whipping my eyes back to his, I give an affirmative nod. “I’d love that, Chris.” I say.

The whites of his eyes bulge from his head as his name rolls off my tongue. He lets out a shaky breath, leaning his head on top of mine. “God,”  he breathes out. “--I really have to thank Madison. I gotta get her a fucking check or some shit.” he mumbles. 

I laugh, leaning further into his chest. “Well,” I start. I adjust, sitting up enough to gaze over his shoulder and at my shop. The small crowd outside the ice cream shop next to my floral arrangements lining my window had disappeared, the small strip of shops now barren and dark with not a single car parked in the parking lot. 

My palm clenches into his shirt as I turn back to look at him. The tips of my nails tingle as I feel his fingers lightly trace over them. I admire his mindless touch as his eyes stay focused on his actions. 

“Chris.” I speak softly. 

He hums, his eyes still fixated on the light traces of his fingers touching mine. “Would you wanna thank Madison together?” I ask. 

The question catches his attention. His eyes shift, gleaming innocently up at mine as I nod over his shoulder. He peeks over, following my gesture before turning around with a crooked smile with his lips pressed into a tight line. 

“Only if you let me kiss you again.” he bargains. 

I squint my eyes, leaning forward as I pucker my lips softly. I briefly let my lips linger on his. As I allow myself to pull back, his hand caresses the back of my shoulder, his lips chasing mine with a soft hum. 

The way our lips intertwine sends my mind into a loop of bliss. My conscious thoughts slip into my pulsating heart, the thumping emotions sending waves of security from his skin against mine. The tightness in my chest burns as my lungs beg for air, I let myself pull away, gasping a deep breath in as Chris’s lips softly peck along my cheek, his thumb swiveling across the surface as I hear him pant for air. 

“Just so you know,” he breathes out heavily, “I would’ve agreed either way.” 

I lean my forehead on his shoulder, his hand soothing gently over the back of my head. A soft giggle falls from my lips as I feel his shoulders rack with humor. “I know,” I pull up, looking into his eyes. I let myself sink into the details of his irises, “trust me, I know.” I conclude. 

Chris offers me a tight-lipped smile as he stands up. Dusting off his bottom, he reaches a hand downward. I let my hand slither into his grasp. As he pulls me gently, I stand up, wiping off my jeans. 

“Here, let’s go get our shoes, jump up.” he turns around, bending his knees until he’s mostly at level with me. 

I shake my head with disbelief. “Chris, the car is all the way up there. You don’t have to–” 

He peers over his shoulder at me, pursing his lips. “I want to. I really want to.” he pronounces. 

I suck in my bottom lip, nodding as I mutter an acknowledgment under my breath. As I wrap my arms around Chris’ neck, he turns around, his chest pressed against mine from the lack of distance between our bodies. 

“What are you doing?” I teasingly ask. 

My eyes squint at him as he stands straight. The skin of my waist tingles as he curves his hands around both sides. His eyes shift to the side, gleaming down at me with a hidden mischievous glint in his gaze. 

“Well,” he starts, “This might come as a surprise to you….but, I think you’re really fucking pretty.” I blush furiously at the compliment, averting my eyes down to his chest as his gaze darts into mine. “--and, I really like pretty girls. Well, pretty girls who have your name,” he leans down, his nose prodding against the skin of my neck. “--pretty girls who have your smile,” his breath fans out just beneath my ear with a burning warmth. “--pretty girls that love pink flowers,” his nose trails up my neck, stopping as he leans his head downward, resting his forehead against mine. 

The anticipation makes my gut swirl into rhythms of excitement. My eyes stay trained on his, the outside of my peripheral vision fading into a blur as I focus solely on him. The pulse in my chest thumbs furiously. My lips part, sucking in a deep breath of air as my throat seems caught up on his words. 

His mouth lets a deep chuckle escape. “I really make you nervous, huh?” he teases. 

I bite my tongue, my eyes still unable to peel away from him. “A little.” I mutter through a tight smile. 

“That’s okay,” he announces. His hand brushes the hair back from my face, a shiver running down my neck and through my spine as his fingers lace through the hairs on my head tenderly. His eyes run down, meeting mine as I clutch my hand onto his wrist. “--you make me a little nervous too.” he admits. 

Relief rings through my mind as I shine him a smile with softened eyes. “Really?” I press. He nods affirmatively, his eyes watching his hand tangle down through my hair. 

“Either that or I’m starting to have a heart attack,” he jokes. 

I laugh, tugging his hand in between our bodies as I push my fingers through his. His warm palm radiates a comforting heat onto mine as our arms swing back and forth as we step through the sand. 

“Wanna hop up now?” he suggests. 

I let our hands drop, nodding slowly as he mimics the crouched positions from earlier. I place my arms around his neck, his hand tapping gently at the side  of my thigh. 

“Come on, pretty girl.” he encourages. 

The nickname sends salvia piling into my mouth and a wave of heat fluttering over the entirety of my body, down to my feet. I hesitantly bring up one leg. Chris automatically grasps onto it, yanking it securely as he reaches to hold my other leg. I let out a slight huff, out of breath. He visibly shutters from the air hitting his neck, the hairs standing straight up as I smirk with arrogance. 

I really do make him nervous. 

My smirk falls from my face as his grasp tightens, pushing me up his back effortlessly. The ease in his motion was impressive. 

Sure, I really wanted to know him, but I really wanted to know him. 

Something about his aura assured me that it would be heaven in sin tangled in sheets with him. His touches were soothing, comforting. He knew how to touch me in gentle ways, ways that I’m sure extended into deeper rendezvous. 

“You okay there, sweetheart?” 

I snap back into reality hearing his voice. I clear my throat, humming a pitiful acknowledgement. In response, he laughs. My thighs clench tighter around him from the embarrassment before I can think. 

“Squeezing me with those pretty legs, hm?” he says. 

My eyes widen, picturing the context in a different situation. 

I need to get my head out of the gutter, this will be more than sex for once. 

The reminder flushes me with shame as I cling onto his back. He unlocks his car, gently placing me down in the passenger seat before grabbing our shoes from the back. Chris slides his shoes on almost instantly. Kneeling down, he taps on his thigh. 

“I can put them on–”

Chris gives me a knowing look, his palm enclosing gently over my knee with a soothing motion. “I know,” he grabs my foot, placing it on his thigh as he slides my sock and shoe on. “--just wanted an excuse to touch you.” he leans down, repeating the action with the other sock and shoe. My eyes gleam down at him with admiration watching him gently place both of my feet back on the ground. 

“Alright,” he stands up, offering me an outreached hand. I slide my fingers over his palm, bathing in the warmth of his body heat as he grasps onto me. Standing up, Chris closes the car door behind me and locks the car. His hand doesn’t leave mine once, his thumb still swiveling back and forth against the back of my palm. 

My mind stuttered with the way he touched me. Blank thoughts rushed through my head, creating nothing but a void to help curate my daydreams with him included. I had only known him for a couple of hours, but it didn’t feel like it. It felt like each hour had been a week. Yet, at the same time, my nerves still rushed through my body as if I was just barely opening my front door for him. 

I didn’t know how to feel, I didn’t know how to react. It was foreign land. I didn’t know where to begin trying to dissect the situation, all I knew was I wanted more. 

More of him. 

And that–that was not something I had ever experienced. Not in a long time. Not ever like this.

“What did you have in mind?” Chris asks. 

As our intertwined hands swing between us with each step, I let a grin take over my face, flashing him a sly smile. “Well,” as we come in front of my shop, I reach down in my small bag and pull out my keys. Fiddling with the numerous metal conjoined on the holder, I pinch the golden, rusted key in between my two fingers. “Madison does love flowers too.” I suggest. 

I twist the key in the lock, pushing it open and shoving the clanking metal keychain back into my bag. Chris walks in behind me, holding open the door from behind me as his eyes glance over the shop. I pull him in faster, shutting and locking the door quickly. 

“Wanna make a custom bouquet with me?” I offer. 

Chris nods, his eyes still dancing over the small interior as if it had been his first time witnessing the surroundings. I tug his hand with mine, walking behind the counter. I set my bag by the register, turning on the small overhead light. 

“Where do we even start?” Chris asks with a light laugh. I look over as I start pulling materials onto the counter. I hold back a smile, watching as he nervously scratches the back of his neck. “I, uh…I wanna make sure you’re not the only one doing the work.” he mentions. 

The slight waver in the tone of his voice contradicts the outburst of confidence seen in his stature minutes ago. My eyes soften looking at his nervous persona.

“Don’t worry, I’ll walk you through it.” I say. 

The blush covers his face as his eyes bulge out of his head. I lick over the bottoms of my teeth, holding back a smirk as he clears his throat. “Oh–okay.” he stammers out. 

A sense of pride washes over me as I clap my hands together. I point to the various papers to wrap the bouquets in, looking over at Chris. 

“Wanna pick?” I suggest. 

Chris nods hesitantly. “Um….that one?” he says slowly, his tone rising higher at the end of his sentence with uncertainty. 

“This one?” I point down to the pink one he gestured to. With a hum of his approval, I slide the paper out of the array, piling up the others and sliding them back beneath the counter. Clapping together my hands again, I start walking around the display in the center of the shop. I look up, seeing Chris still waiting behind the counter with furrowed brows. “Come here!” I laugh out. 

Chris runs a hand through his hair while walking over to me. I pick up a couple of options, holding them up to him as he stands beside me. “What do we think?” I ask. 

A moment of silence leads my eyes from the flowers and to his features. His tongue prods at the side of his mouth. The ring-clad fingers scratched lightly at his jaw. I tilt my head with admiration watching the deep focus painted on his expression. 

“Hm…these two? We could put them with more purple, I know Madison likes purple.” he says. 

My eyes widened with shock. The tilt in my head pushes further to my shoulder as Chris looks up at me with an approval-seeking glance. 

“What? Is it not purple anymore? Or does that just sound ugly? I’m sorry–I don’t really know what I’m doing…” he trails off. 

I shake my head, grabbing a couple more of the white and lavender baby’s breath. With a bundle of each color in my hand, I move back around the counter. As I place the florals on the paper, I feel his body heat radiate on my skin beside me. 

“We um…we don’t have to do that, I just thought it might look pretty….” he says. 

Letting out a sigh, I look up and over until our eyes meet. His attention focuses on me, his lips glistening as his tongue darts over the soft pink skin. 

“Chris,” I start explaining as my fingers begin mindlessly organizing the delicate arrangement. Looking around the shop, I nudge my head over to the side wall. Chris follows my gaze, turning his head. “--I was just surprised. I think it’d look gorgeous. The, um…the flowers are over there. There’s roses, begonias, peonies, really a lot. I’m pretty sure I have a large sum of purple over there.” I state. 

“How many do I get? Which ones should I get?” he asks while walking over. He looks over his shoulder at me. 

With a shrug, I give him a reassuring smile. “Any is fine, Chris. We can probably fit about the same size handful as the baby’s breath. Pick whatever, you seem to have good taste.” I point out. 

I focus down on the paper and layered flowers. Taking my time, I topple each stem and small buds of flowers over each other, dispersing the colors evenly. 

A subtle touch on the small of my back breaks me from the focused state. I look over, seeing a pile of purple florals on the counter. My eyes wander further upward to see Chris giving me a tight-lipped smile. 

“Sorry, I said your name a couple of times,” he says. My face goes pink with a flush of embarrassment. “--I didn’t mean to scare you.” His hand drops from the small of my back. I long for the warmth of his touch, my head leaning onto his chest as I let out a small sigh of contentment. 

“--didn’t scare me.” I mumble out. 

His chest rises and falls beneath my head. I slowly drift to stand up straight, my hands fiddling anxiously with the strong stems of the large flowers.

I just want to touch him. 

As if reading my mind, I feel his hand resume its position on the small of my back. My body goes stiff under the tantalizing shiver that spreads from his hand. His hot breath fans on the side of my scalp as my hands stutter with the shuffling between the florals.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. 

I look over my shoulder, his eyes piercing into mine as I slowly nod my head. My eyes drift down to his lips. I reminisce on the feelings, but turn back to the task at-hand. 

“Good, just--let me know if it isn’t okay?” he says. 

I bite down on the inside of my cheek, replying with a small hum. Not trusting my voice, I stay silent. I bathe in the feeling of his hand starting to draw circles onto my back, relaxing further and further into his touch. 

I shouldn’t feel this comfortable. 

The pondering thought felt like a warning. There has to be something wrong with him. A million words, bursting through my head. One stays engraved far deeper than the rest. 

What would it be like to love him? 

What would it be like to be loved by him?

“Can I help at all?” he asks. 

I jump back into reality, my words stumbling in gibberish for a minute. Shutting my eyes tightly, I take a deep breath as I hear his laugh. 

“Don’t worry,” his hand soothes in a bigger motion. “--take your time.” he voices. 

Take your time.

The soft statement echoed in my head as I nodded appreciatively. “Um…thank you. I…Do you wanna help me tie it all together? I can tie the bow, you’ll just have to hold it all together for a minute.” He nods as I pull the purple paper together around the floral arrangement. His hands graze mine while taking hold of the stems, my fingers nearly stumbling to outreach for him again. 

I spin out some purple ribbon, a dark royal shade of silk. Snipping a long length, I tie the bow just beneath his fingers. I tighten the knot, my eyes staying trained on his hands. His nails are perfect, manicured and have small designs on each. 

“I like your nails,” before I can stop myself, I reach out, caressing the nail beds of his fingers. Chris laughs as I shrink my hands back to myself with a wave of nerves succumbing over my senses. “--sorry. I just got excited.” I mutter out. 

Chris laughs harder at this, a smile of pure embarrassment painting my face. He gently places the bouquet on the counter, his arm swinging over and behind me. I feel the weight of his arm hug me into his side, his other arm enclosing around me as he sways us side to side. 

“Don’t be sorry,” he pulls away, both his hands resting on my shoulders as I look up at him. “--I thought it was cute.” he announces with a grin. 

My teeth clamp into my tongue lightly as I fight back the urge to turn away. His intense gaze stays on me as he leans down further to my level. As his nose grazes mine, my breath hitches in my throat. 

“--and pretty. I…” I swallow thickly, watching his grin spread ear-to-ear at the nervous antic. “I was wondering…what were you gonna ask for if you won our bet? Hm?” he presses. 

As his arms relax onto me, his grip around me stays the same. I take in the feeling, petals of emotions raining through my body like nervous butterflies. 

“I…” My eyes wander just behind his shoulder. He moves his head, making his eyes catch mine as he holds the connection of our eyes meeting. “--well, I, um…” The words fall lifelessly as the overhead light illuminates his perfect features. My mind goes numb. Every thought besides how good he looked was gone. 

His hand untangling itself from around my shoulder catches my mind into reality. I look up from his lips, catching his playful eyes. The warm touch of his hand holding my chin upwards sends my emotions into a spiral, clinging onto the burning pit of anticipation in my gut. 

“Come on, aren’t ya gonna tell me?” he taunts. 

Looming over me, his stature becomes taller somehow, more confident. I feel my eyes going wide, my heart racing in my chest. “I…” My chest sinks inward with a heavy breath being pushed from my lips as I muster up courage. “--I was gonna say…” I bring my hand up, laying my palm flat on his chest as it starts to rise and fall unevenly. “--our next date, it should be something fun. Maybe, something I’ve done that you haven’t, ya know? Make it fair.” I say through a large breath. 

As I let my eyes look into his, the glazed over look sends a smile onto my face with pride. “Yeah…yeah, our second date. I…I’d really like that.” he breathes out. 

@sturniolosmind @freshloveforthefit @gnxosblog @sturnreblog @milasturniolo @mattscokewhore @melanch0lybby @stars4matt @samandcolbyfan22 @ruedowney @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @greatooglymooglyyy

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[joicecubes]

HEY!!!!! HEY YOU!! (sits you down to listen to me yap about my queer headcanons for gravity falls characters)

mabel - okay lets get her out of the way. this girl is queer as fuck. she may not realize it yet, but in her teenage years i know she’s experimented with every single label and microlabel in existence. she’d try out hundreds of neopronouns. she realizes her obsession with boys as a kid was a result of comphet. i don’t have a specific label for her because i think in the end she’d discover she can’t make herself identify with any one label. because she’s just mabel! unlabeled and proud.

dipper - do i even have to say it… he’s trans. i think every queer person in this fandom headcanons him to be trans. moving on

stanley - he’s kinda unlabeled too, but for a reason opposite to mabel’s. ladies, gentlemen, doesn’t matter to him! i think its fair to assume he grew up believing that being gay was wrong, it was the 60s and 70s and his dad’s a piece of shit, but as he traveled the country and met so many different people and then witnessed the times changing around him… he’d just. grow into his attraction for men. like, yeah i like men? so what? he doesn’t care for labels. “bisexual, mabel? pansexual? quit making up words!”

(more starting with stanford under the cut this is gonna be sorta long)

stanford - hehehheee okay this is my favorite. i’ve thought about his sexuality a lot. he’s definitely gay to me, and i don’t have much reasoning for that other than like… my heart is telling me that’s the right answer. but he’s also definitely on the aroace spectrum. i personally think he’s demi or grayromantic, he feels romantic attraction VERY rarely and its part of the reason why he felt so helpless in the dating department as a teenager, and also why as an adult later on he tells fiddleford he doesn’t understand romance. he’s hardly ever experienced it! and he wouldn’t really KNOW he identifies with those labels until he’s back in his dimension and mabel is in her obsessed-with-queer-microlabels phase. he hears mabel say “demiromantic” and, being the nerd he is, immediately wants to know what this new word means and why he’s never heard of it before. so mabel rolls a big-ass whiteboard in and starts Mabel’s Guide to the Aromantic Spectrum! ford learns something about himself that day.

fiddleford - HE’S GAY. he’s gay. he’s so gay. i know he canonically has a wife but he literally leaves emma may to work on this mysterious project with his best and only MALE friend from college like… BE so fr. he made ford TWO christmas gifts and forgot to get anything for his wife!! i imagine his marriage to emma may was more of a way for him to deny his sexuality and live what he believes to be a “normal” life. and that obviously doesnt excuse the neglect to his family (because what the fuck fiddleford) but its how i personally make sense of his behavior.

bill cipher - bill transcends human comprehension of gender and sexuality. bill is just bill. but in human terms he’s a lover of all genders. as long as he can manipulate them, they’re fair game! (sorry ford)

wendy - okayyy yesss i know i used the comphet excuse once with mabel but i’m using it again god dammit. with the way wendy talks about her past boyfriends and how we see her be so vaguely invested in her relationship with robbie, it makes me think she’s either a lesbian or somewhere on the aromantic spectrum. she’s just not super interested! but she gives guys chances because why the hell not and is never super into any of it, eventually they break up, and she moves on with her life. i imagine sometime after high school is when she reflects on that and thinks… huh. was i ever attracted to men at all?

soos - saving the most anticlimactic for last… soos is straight to me. but he’s an ENTHUSIASTIC ally :)

thanks for reading i really like overthinking the theoretical queer identities of my favorite characters have a nice day (and let me know if you’re headcanons differ i would love to hear what people think!!)

edit: i’ve seen some people disagree with me on the comphet part for mabel, in hindsight my wording was way more definitive than i was meaning. check the replies for more on her :)

[wolfprincesszola]

"Do you want a kiss?" | 707 x Reader

I couldn't think of anything else for the summary because I wanted it to be vague. Have a first kiss scene that's so cute that it makes my teeth rot every time I read it. I smiled so much when I wrote it that people in my house started to ask me if I was texting an s/o (i'm single asf). If you are one of my irl mutuals who know about my obsession with 707, no, you don't see this. Scroll away. (candy fic just in time for halloween <3) ————– Summary: You offer Saeyoung a kiss and he gladly takes the opportunity.

Trigger Warnings: None

Content Warnings: Food (Chocolate), Light Swearing (only one) ————–

"Do you want a kiss?"

707 choked on the water he had been drinking, quickly putting the cup down and going to grab a napkin to wipe his mouth and the remnants of the water that had gotten on his clothes. His voice cracked as he turned to you with confusion, "What?"

"Are you alright?" You asked, staring at him with concern etched on your face.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Don't worry about me." 707 brushed it off as he joined you on the couch, "I must've just heard you wrong."

Yeah, that was it. His lovely, innocent girlfriend wouldn't have suggested for them to share your first kiss right then and there.

"Do you want a kiss?" You blinked innocently, enunciating the words so that 707 wouldn't misunderstand you again. "What did you hear?"

Nope. He heard you correctly.

"I heard you correctly, I guess. I'm sorry, that's just such an odd question to ask when I'm drinking water."

"Why?" You raised an eyebrow, "It's something that people normally ask."

707 couldn't help but question the people you had been hanging around and debating trying to take you away from you friends without knowing the full story. Who had been asking you to kiss them and would 707 be able to take them in a fight?

"I don't know. I just never thought that you would be the one to ask me that first. I guess I also thought that it'd be in a more romantic setting than this."

You raised an eyebrow before glancing around the room, "Sitting in the living room together domestically isn't romantic enough for you? I guess I could present it down on one knee too..."

"No, no! There's no need." 707 laughed nervously, stopping you from getting down on one knee, "This is fine. This is romantic enough already."

"Besides, not everything we do has to be romantic." You hummed, smiling at 707, "What are you so nervous about? It's just me asking you if you wanted one. It's okay to say no."

Why weren't you freaking out about this? Why were you treating this like nothing? Had you done this before? Was he ready to make the move? What if he was bad? What if he was horrible and then you wanted to dump him? What if he messed things up because he had agreed to a kiss? Was he overthinking this?

Looking at your nonchalant face, he definitely was.

"It's okay to say no, Saeyoung." You repeated, "You don't have to say yes to make me happy. I don't care either way."

"You don't?" 707 raised an eyebrow.

It wasn't the earliest stage of your relationship together as the two of you had been together for more than half a year already. However, you still had yet to do many things. It took you two almost three months to start holding hands even because of the anxiety 707 held and the inability to make a move you had. You two were fine with the slow pace you were going at though. It was nice and a fresh breath of air from the constant whirling of the rollercoaster life took you two on.

"Of course I don't. Why would I?"

"Well because I just assumed that you never had one before, so this would be as big of a deal for you as it is for me." 707 admitted, "Are you telling me you have?"

You stared at 707 as if he was insane, "Everyone I knew has had one, especially in your elementary school days. Don't tell me you've never had one."

"Of course I haven't! You know me. I mean, you're my first girlfriend."

You raised an eyebrow, "What does that have to do with ever having a kiss?"

707 flushed, knowing that he had greatly assumed that if you had already had your first kiss, it had to have been from your previous boyfriend. 707 did not know a single thing about your ex, but wanted to strangle him for ruining the experience of you ever sharing your first kiss with 707. Great, you had officially turned 707 into a homicidal maniac, ready to kill anyone that got in the way of his relationship. "You're right, it doesn't."

"But you're serious about that? You've never had your first kiss?" You seemed appalled by the statement.

"No!"

"Somehow I doubt that."

"What? You think I'm so likeable that people are just lining up to give me kisses?" 707 accused you.

"Well, yeah! You're the Saeyoung Choi. You're my boyfriend. If I like you, that means that there had to have been several friends of yours that have offered you them." You scoffed, "I mean, I'm not very much of a likeable person and I still had people offer them to me."

"Did you take the offers?"

"Of course I did! It was free kisses. Why wouldn't I?"

"You whore!" 707 scoffed, amusement clearly sparkling his eyes with no malicious intent to the comment.

He was surprised though. For someone who seemed very new and innocent to the relationship idea just like he was, you sure had a lot of experience if you had kissed many people. 707 felt a little jealous at the fact that he wouldn't be your first kiss, although he knew that his thinking was silly. You were his and would always be his for as long as he cherished you. He didn't have to worry about you accepting anyone's offers to kiss anyone while you two were together. There was at least that.

"What? You're telling me you've always refused it when people have offered them to you? I completely doubt that's true." You examined 707 for body signals to show that he was lying.

"They've never offered them to me." 707 admitted, "Unfortunately."

"You never bought any either?"

"Why would I? The booths are just overpriced for something I know I'll experience in time."

"Weirdly poetic for something as small as a kiss." You smirked, "Would you like to try it now?"

His heart started to pound. Was this really happening? Was he really going to kiss you for the first time?

"More than anything." He breathed out as he stared at you. "I just...what if I mess up?"

"Mess up?" You raised an eyebrow, "I doubt you can mess up at this."

"Says who?"

"Says me, who has gotten plenty of kisses in the past!" You giggled.

"Well, I've never had one before, so I don't know what to do."

You stared at your boyfriend before exhaling in amusement, "Alright, fine. I'll help you out. Move your phone, I'm going to sit on your lap."

"O-oh, okay." 707 cleared his throat as he moved his phone, trying not to show his flushed face. You straddled him, your legs in between 707's as you were facing him. 707 wrapped his arms around you to keep you from falling off. "How do I do this?"

"Just relax and close your eyes." You instructed.

707 did just that, feeling the darkness comforting him. He really hoped that you couldn't hear just how loud his heart was pounding.

"Open your mouth."

707 let confusion wash over his face as he emphasized every word to make sure he knew what you were saying, "Open my mouth?"

"Open your mouth." Your voice remarked as he could hear crinkling of something.

"Why would that be beneficial in any way, Y/N?" 707's voice had raised from confusion all the way to bewilderedness.

"Just do it, babe, before I force your mouth open. That's the correct way." You remarked.

"Alright, alright." 707 sighed before letting his jaw open, feeling you move yourself closer to him and his mouth. There seemed to be no more sounds of crinkling as something--your fingers--brushed against his lips. His heartbeat fastened as he was waiting for your lips to close in on his.

Then, he tasted chocolate.

Sweet, creamy, and velvety chocolate. It had the same distinct taste that Hershey's chocolate kisses had.

Oh...that's what you meant. His eyes fluttered open as he looked at you, smiling.

"How is it?"

707 burst out laughing, pulling you close so that he could bury his face into your chest in embarrassment. "Oh my universe. Y/N, you're so innocently sweet. Just like this kiss."

"What?" You laughed, pushing 707 gently off of you so that you could look at his face, "What are you talking about?"

"I thought you were talking about an actual kiss, not a Hershey's. I've had plenty of chocolate kisses before." 707 brushed a hair out of your face as he waited for the recognition to hit you.

"Huh? Oh-OH!" Your eyes widened as you burst out laughing too. "Is that why you were so flustered and nervous?"

"What else was I supposed to think when you just randomly offered me that?"

"The treat! I didn't think you would think of that!"

"Clearly not." 707 gasped for air as he finally finished the chocolate in his mouth before he could choke on it. He cupped your cheeks, "My innocent, sweet girlfriend."

"Shut up." You huffed, "So you're telling me you've had a Hershey's kiss before?"

"Yes, plenty."

"But not a kiss on the lips?"

"Nope. I've never been offered that."

"Then...do you want a kiss?"

707 stared at you, wondering if you were truly offering it this time. His voice cracked as he tried to ask you to clarify, "What?"

"Do you want a kiss?" You remarked, enunciating things the same way you had asked in the beginning of the situation. "It's okay to say no, babe."

"No, I want it." 707 gave a small smile, "How do I do this?"

"Just close your eyes and this time, close your mouth." You giggled as you cupped 707's face. Your chest was pressed against his and he could practically hear your heart racing at a hundred miles an hour. His heart was pounding almost the same speed as yours.

707 slowly closed his eyes as you leaned in, fully shutting them when he could feel your breath on his face. Your lips brushed together before finally, you gently pressed your lips against each other and then pulled away.

You tasted like Hershey's chocolate kisses and strawberries. Your lips weren't chapped, but instead waxy as only moments before you offered him a kiss, he had watched you apply your signature strawberry chapstick. He hadn't realized how much he had wanted to know what it had tasted like and how it was like to be so close to your lips until the moment he had gotten a taste of you. Maybe that was why your chapstick never seemed to last you long. It would dry out in hopes that the chapstick would once again touch your lips, becoming addicted to that sensation. Now that 707 had gotten a taste of his own, he knew that it would become an addiction of his.

"Was that okay?" You asked as 707's eyes fluttered open, staring at his girlfriend that was facing him with anxiety written all over your face.

All 707 did was pull you closer to him with his arms still wrapped around your waist before having his right hand travel to pull you face closer to his. He crashed his lips onto yours as an answer, desperately wanting another taste of your lips, of you.

You returned the energy as your hands traveled from his face into his hair. 707 could not care less about how you were messing up his hairstyle when you had your fingers in his hair while you were kissing him. Those combined together made the top ten list of his favorite things you did in that moment.

When you two separated--albeit only because you two were humans that needed to breathe--you pressed your foreheads together, whispering a feisty remark, "You never answered my question."

707 couldn't help the smile that spread onto his face, "It was more than okay."

"Good."

You two stayed in quiet silence, enjoying each other's company. Even as you shifted off of 707's lap and onto the spot next to them, you took comfort in nestling closer to one another and holding each other.

The only thing that interrupted the silence was when you held out another chocolate kiss, "Do you want a kiss?"

"I'd love one." 707 replied as he pulled you closer to him for a kiss before grabbing the chocolate and popping it in his mouth. ————– If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging! Reblogging helps me a lot and it's just two clicks of a button (trust me, likes don't do anything to help me). Check out my masterlist for more, feel free to request any writings, and stick around if you want to see what other fandoms I like to write for! :)

[satoruxx]

NORTHERN LIGHTS.

✧ PAIRING: kaeya alberich x fem!reader | 4.5k words

✧ SUMMARY: smut, p -> v, praise, fingering, lots of pining, angst, angsty bc it’s kaeya tbh lol, kaeya lore but it’s vague, also military themes bc sometimes we forget kaeya is a captain and i love the knights of favonius, he’s highkey got commitment issues but i think he’s valid, man is whipped tho, he's just an overthinker and traumatized, also can you tell i’m a med student?

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: first i have to apologize bc this is SO late??? i got this request back for my 200 event, asking for kaeya with the song northern lights by kennie (which is such a good song). at first i was gonna make it a short little drabble, but the more i wrote, the more i wanted to make it a full fic, which is what ended up happening. kaeya's character has so much depth and i wanted to explore it hehe. northern lights is such a fitting song for him so i just had to go all in. but i'm so sorry that i got to your request so late, hopefully you still enjoy it lovely! (even tho it’s not the main focus in this fic, this is technically my first real smut fic so take it with a grain of salt; i don't think i write it that well LMAO)

it was rare to truly know your own weaknesses, but kaeya knew his a little too well. behind his carefree, unbothered exterior he cared a little too much. he cares a little too much when klee tugs on his fur cape and whines about a scolding she’s gotten from jean, and he ends up indulging her with whatever she’d like. he cares a little too much when rosaria spills just a tad more than usual during her drunken ramblings. he cares a little too much when he sees the discomfort in the face of certain fiery bartender as they speak, and he consistently lies awake and remembers days when that discomfort between them didn’t exist.

it’s a curse, he thinks, because he always ends up feeling too attached to people he knows he shouldn’t be attached to.

even now, his weakness is acting up as he barks orders to his soldiers. they scramble around him as they enter the city, carrying their wounded brethren to safety up at the cathedral. kaeya knows he shouldn’t blame himself but as their captain he feels like he should’ve seen this coming. new recruits wouldn’t be able to handle the hordes of monsters at daduapa gorge—he miscalculated.

“take them to the sisters at the cathedral. sister barbara and the others should be able to heal them,” kaeya commands, clasping one of the men’s shoulders and helping him up to the church. he’s ignoring the now dull throbbing in his side as blood stains his clothes—his soldiers were most important right now. like he said, he cared a little too much.

the nurses had set up a medical station at the cathedral, and in between all the commotion, kaeya’s finally able to hand over the groaning soldier to a nurse, who immediately gets to work.

he then takes a few steps back to assess the damage, grateful that all of his soldiers are getting the attention they needed. he’d hate himself if there were any losses today.

he doesn’t even realize that he’s now leaning against the wall, panting shallowly as blood continues to pour from his abdomen. oh well, he’d wait his turn—only after his soldiers were taken care of.

kaeya shuts his eyes, letting his body rest for a minute.

“you’re wounded.”

his eyes shoot open to see you standing in front of him. he assumes you’re not one of the nuns because your clothes are entirely different. you’re young, appearing to be around his age as you eye his torso critically.

“it appears so,” he answers.

“did someone take a look at you yet?”

“i’d prefer all my soldiers be taken care of first.”

your eyes flash with recognition. “so you’re captain kaeya?”

“indeed i am.” he lets his eyes roam over your concerned features.

you give him a small smile before continuing with a sigh. “i can safely tell you that all the wounded are being treated. i’m still an apprentice so i’m only here to deal with the non fatal injuries. like yours, captain.” you crouch down in front of him, fingers reaching towards his clothing with a silent question of permission. he lets his hand slacken as he gives you a nod and you attempt to peel back as many layers as you can to asses the damage before you’re motioning him towards a tent.

a few minutes later and kaeya is letting you strip his torso bare until you have a full view of his injury. your fingers brush over the wounded skin gently, and he wonders if you even touched him at all. “it’s long, but not too deep. a few stitches and you should be alright. if you’re okay with it, i’ll get started,” you tell him.

kaeya wants to tell you that he’s no stranger to the pain of injuries, but he finds something oddly refreshing about your comforting attitude, so he just says yes and lets you begin to work.

you thread through the skin with a delicate hand and despite the sting he honestly can’t even focus on it, choosing instead to analyze your features.

he realizes that you’re awfully pretty.

kaeya makes small talk with you as you work, partly to stay awake through the pain and mostly because he can’t stop his curiosity. he finds out your name, your hobbies, your goals. you may not have the most exciting life but kaeya thinks there’s something so alluring about you it makes him a little dizzy. he's not sure what it is, but he thinks about it the whole time you tend to his wound. realization hits when you finally finish, looking up at him with a smile, and kaeya realizes that your eyes hold the stars in them.

it’s hard to explain but when kaeya watches you work, nose scrunching in the dim lighting of the tent, he thinks you remind him of home.

(kaeya has chased the stars for as long as he can remember. he remembers shouting with diluc in the grass behind the winery, the two of them reaching for celestia because the stars up there were so undeniably pretty.

"we're never gonna get them!" diluc would laugh, trying hard to balance kaeya on his little shoulders. "they're too far…"

and kaeya only grins down at him toothily, raising his fists to the sky. "no way! i'll catch them one day!"

and yet his whole childhood went by without being able to capture the stars. as he grew older he started to learn that it was impossible to steal what the sky so selfishly held on to.

but even as an adult, kaeya knows to appreciate the stars when he gets the privilege to see them in the sky.

especially after he finally seems to find them in the dim glow of a medical tent.)

he hates to admit how often his eyes seek you out after that one encounter. sometimes he’ll see you at the cat's tail, giggling with your friends as you slam tcg cards down on the table triumphantly. other times he’ll catch a glimpse of you at good hunter, chewing on a quick meal as you browse through a book. almost every time he gets caught staring you only smile and offer him a little wave that sends his brain into a frenzy.

(maybe in another life kaeya would allow himself the luxury. he’d let himself go through the motions for you. let himself stress every time you threw a glance his way. work up the courage to ask you out on saturday afternoon. finally get the chance to press his lips to yours. trace your skin with nimble fingers and have the privilege to call you his.

in another life maybe.

but for now he’ll just keep you his own little secret—a guilty pleasure he’ll indulge in because it’s hard to rid an addiction, especially if you don’t have the will to rid it in the first place.)

kaeya’s messed up this summer. he knows it in his soul that he’s made the wrong decision as he watches you babble about something as you lean against his bare chest, still basking in your own afterglow.

he knows that he should have resisted the temptation. as soon as he and the troops got back and he saw you sitting in a secluded corner at angel’s share he knew that his feelings for you hadn’t dissolved.

they say absence makes the heart grow fonder and kaeya only now knows this to be true because just the sight of you sends his mind into a frenzy. you could probably feel his gaze on you because you look up from the book you’re reading and make straight eye contact with him. for a second, he wants to turn away but then you smile at kaeya like you’ve never once forgotten him, and he’s putty. before he knows it, he’s buying you a drink and walking over to your little corner to make himself comfortable.

it’s a slow descent for him because in his head he knows he shouldn’t get too attached. he’ll leave again soon with the troops, and who knows maybe he’ll leave them behind one day too. his future has always looked so clouded to him, and he knows you belong in the sun. he’d like to leave you there in the light—avoid dragging you into his darkness.

so he tries to keep it simple, occasionally meeting you for a drink or catching up around the city. but then you’re showing him your favorite place to study near starfell lake and he’s showing you his favorite stars while laying on his back on starsnatch cliff. and he knows he can’t avoid it.

soon enough he’s giving into everything he said he wouldn’t, finally finding out what you taste like. finally knowing how his name sounds when it falls from your lips.

it's more addicting than he could've predicted, the feeling of your breath against his skin as you pant out his name. kaeya can't even bring himself to pull away from you to stop and think for a second. if he did then maybe he could slap some sense into himself and draw some distance because archons above he was digging himself deeper into this hole. but he can't, not when you're gripping his shoulders as he presses you against the wall of his bedroom, whining into his lips for all that he can give you.

and kaeya is nothing if not generous.

so he indulges both you and himself—the perfect mix of selfless and selfish as he guides you to his bed, nimble fingers loosening the ties of your clothing until you're bare in front of him. he can see the bashfulness settling into your cheeks and he almost feels like goading for just a minute, but he decides he'll be nice.

you've always deserved a nice guy anyway.

he tries to push that thought away, instead distracting himself with the heat of your body, his fingers dancing along your skin eagerly. maybe, just this one night, he can let it be about you two. he can afford to forget about all the old promises he's made—all the responsibilities and duties he devoted himself to a lifetime ago.

kaeya ignores the flush of heat crawling up his neck as he hovers over you, caging your body underneath his as you squirm in anticipation. he understands—the tightness in his pants is enough for him to feel the same. but he's not worried about that, not when his fingers part your thighs eagerly, brushing over heated skin and finding slick wetness there as he dips into your cunt. he hears the sharp intake of breath, the quiet restrained moan, and he preens. kaeya revels in the sounds he pulls from your lips as his fingers curl against your slick heat, your head lolling back against his pillows.

there's a possessive streak of something that cuts through him then—something that tells him how he aches to be the only one who gets to hear those sounds.

it makes him slightly sick.

kaeya realizes then—he's been quite stupid when it comes to you. he's kept the maelstrom of feelings brewing in his soul trapped under all his bravado, arrogant and cowardly all at once. he needs to tell you, needs to be honest because this isn't something he can trick his way out of.

but all he wants to do is run. run so far away from you because he doesn't want you to to get caught up in his own ruin. you're far too good for him, too sweet and carefree to be tainted by his sin-laden hands. he needs to run.

but he does none of that, not when he's guiding his fingers to the apex of your thighs and exploring territory he knows he shouldn't claim. because then you look at him with an expression so blissful—so thankful, relieved that he's giving you a part of himself he never wanted to—and he can't even be angry about it.

kaeya presses his lips to the swell of your chest, feeling the rapid thumping of your heart under your skin, and he shuts his eyes as he breathes out your name. you answer with a resounding mewl, catching his eyes even through the dark strands of his hair.

he then chooses to focus on pumping his fingers in and out of your cunt because archons do you look heavenly when your eyes roll back like that.

but it scares him, the way you leave him open and exposed and aching even when he doesn't want to be.

in his head you're perfect, all bright and glowing under him as you chant his name like he's some kind of savior. but kaeya isn't a savior—if anything he's destruction in human form, sent by the heavens to wreak havoc on those around him. he'd destroyed enough already—he doesn't think he can do it to you too.

but archons the way you're looking at him now, from under fluttering lashes and dewy eyes that shine even brighter when they're trained on him—begging, pleading, and oh so trusting of him and every thing he wants to give you. he can't even help himself.

"i know, sweet girl," he sighs, voice strained as you buck your hips just perfect—a temptress, sent to lead him to his doom. and yet he can't stop his fingers from pushing back your hair from your sweaty skin, knowing that he should be careful because he doesn't want to destroy something as fragile as this.

"kaeya please," your breath comes out in short desperate pants, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt and sliding it off his shoulders haphazardly.

"i know," he repeats, reaching down to heft your thigh over his waist as he slots his hips against your own, biting back a groan at the sensitive brush against his cock—throbbing, aching, needy.

"ah fuck," he's almost shy at the way his voice shakes as he lines his cock up, the heat and slickness of your cunt a teasing caress against his sensitive head. he drops his forehead against your shoulder, breathing heavily even before he's inside you because something about this makes him so incredibly nervous. a single desperate whine and the soft squeeze of your fingers into his biceps and he's stilling—breath catching, heart pounding.

for a moment, he doesn't even feel like himself. he's not anything, no one.

and then he slides in and kaeya knows that there will never be anything better—another experience that would feel this right in his life.

he pulls out a little, gaze lingering at the sweat beading at your forehead, and something in his chest stutters. "okay?" he traces your face for any hint of hesitation—of the nervousness that he feels in his gut, but all he finds is a stormy mix of desire and devotion.

"uh huh," reassurance, stability—everything he isn't. his brows pinch, eyes shutting because he doesn't want you to know.

he's pulled out of the whirlwind that is his thoughts when he feels your fingers on his cheek, brushing over his skin gently. his eyes snap open, and even through the haze he can feel himself relaxing under your touch, because the way you're looking at him is so undeniably loving and it makes his stomach flip.

"you okay?" you whisper, looking up at him carefully, and kaeya feels as though you've put him between the halves of a microscope slide to analyze him.

"i'm fine," he breathes out, not a lie but not the whole truth either. "don't worry."

his words do little to quell you, but one roll of his hips has your eyes fluttering, a choked moan escaping your throat, and the sound makes his pride sing.

there's an image then—hazy and yet so obvious as his brain registers it. the implications behind it makes his stomach churn.

quiet smiles, hazy kisses, soft goodbyes—and then the inevitable distance as he crosses over the border separating your world from his. a lone figure standing in the streets of mondstadt, always waiting for him to come back. always disappointed.

you buck your hips upward, blissfully unaware of the torrent of conflicting emotions in his head. kaeya's brain short-circuits, and then he's pushing back, a steady rhythm against your gummy walls that takes the breath out of your lungs. you savor every thrust, punctuated by the sharp grunts he lets out against your throat.

your fingers rake over his back, desperate and needy and focused on one thing only—kaeya, kaeya, kaeya.

"that's it sweetheart," he doesn't have any more control—not on his mind, his body, his mouth. they've all escaped his grasp, too spurred on by you and everything you're willing to offer him.

"'s okay…ah fuck…it's okay," kaeya groans into the column of your throat, not sure whether he's telling you or himself. the clench of your walls sends him spiraling, hips picking up the pace as he pistons his cock in and out—trying to find out just how far he can go.

then he hits one spot, and his vigilant gaze catches the way your jaw slackens, eyes glazing over even as they roll back and a shaky moan escapes your throat—surprised, unexpecting. his ego jumps.

an experimental roll of his hips against the same spot and you make a sound so unhinged that he finds himself already addicted to it. and to tease is in his nature.

"yeah? right there?" he drawls, masking his anxiousness with his bravado once again.

"right there," you whimper, nodding meekly as you grip his shoulders. he huffs out a soft laugh, pressing a gentle kiss to your eyelids like he's trying to kiss away the tears that have gathered there. you preen under his ministrations—it feels a little too domestic.

he understands. it scares him, but he understands. he wonders what the point of worrying is—wonders why he's letting his paranoid brain taint this moment that he'd been waiting for. the only solution left is to ignore it. because you're here, writhing underneath him in the throes of pleasure, vulnerable and trusting and just for him. he should give you what you deserve after all.

so kaeya pushes every other thought out of his head, only focused on you and making you feel good because that's what someone like you deserves—everything you desire laid at your feet.

he presses a chaste kiss to your mouth, paired with a languid roll of his hips as he quietly groans. "okay…." his voice comes out an octave lower, pushed down by the barely concealed need for you. "okay sweet girl. i've got you."

another searing kiss as he breathes through his nose, picking up the pace again as he slams his cock into the spot that makes you see stars. your moans get louder even as they remain muffled against his lips, and kaeya can't help but dig his fingers into the meat of your thigh, leaving behind finger shaped dents in the plushy skin.

a claim—possessive, desperate, selfish.

your kisses become sloppier as kaeya leads you closer to the edge, walls clenching around the length of him, tighter with every thrust he delivers. the chants of his name have become almost reverent, and kaeya thinks his name couldn't possibly sound more beautiful than in that moment. he wonders if he could be blessed to hear it for the remainder of his life, and the thought sends pure unadulterated need through him.

his hips stutter, red hot fire coursing through his chilled veins—building, climbing, overwhelming as every sense goes fuzzy with heat. his grunts become more irregular, in time with the reckless thrusts of his cock as your cunt tightens around him greedily.

his cock twitches as you suck him in eagerly, feeling every ridge and vein as he grunts and groans and tightens his hold on you—unyielding, unrelenting, selfish.

your eyes stay locked on his even as your orgasm rips through you, and kaeya sees celestia in them—brighter than ever before. your muscles spasm, clenching almost painfully as you tremble and writhe underneath him, and he follows you to the doorstep of nirvana with a throaty groan. his hips stutter, twitching and throbbing as he pants out a broken chorus of your name and every praise that doesn't do you justice.

then he drops his forehead against yours, watching your eyelids flutter—celestial stars dim. a soft brush of your lips against his.

your muscles go lax, every guard dropped just for him—trust he realizes, trust he doesn't deserve. he doesn't know how to tell you that.

because even after everything—when you're curled up against his chest, skin warm and dewy against his own, he does not think about how he adores the feeling of your hair brushing against his arm, nor does he focus on the soft tickle of your breathing washing over him. instead he thinks about how he's ruined it all, how he's dragged you into him, and how he needs to let you go before he destroys you completely.

at the end of the summer, kaeya tells you he can’t.

“what are you talking about?” you ask him, a light chuckle escaping your lips as you barely focus on his words. your nose is buried in some medical text, and kaeya thinks that the universe is punishing him now by making him repeat himself.

“us. we shouldn’t have…” he sighs, shoulders dropping. “i mean, we should stop…seeing each other.”

he can practically feel the way his words pull your attention and when he looks up he sees the way your grip on the book has slackened. there’s panic settling in your eyes, mixed with a bit of confusion. a conflicted emotion runs across your face and kaeya’s fingers itch to touch you. “w-why?”

it’s a simple question and he should have no problem answering it, but he struggles to get the words out, his throat constricting uncomfortably. “it was fine in the summer, when i was back here with the troops. but now i’ll have to leave and-“

“so what?” you question, turning in your seat to face him completely. his eyes drop to the shirt you’re wearing, his shirt, and he feels his heart squeezing.

“so-“ he gulps, head spinning as he tries to explain himself. he doesn’t even have a proper answer—he just knows that this is his only option. because there’s no way in hell he deserves this kind of comfort, this kind of happiness. “so i cant-“

“can’t what, kaeya?” you stress, voice going slightly higher and he only then sees the real fear in your expression.

he pauses, mulling over his words and the bitter taste they’re leaving in his mouth. he can feel the sting of your pleading stare, and he swallows hard. “can’t stay,” he finally answers, and he’s shocked at how miserable he sounds.

you look at him like he’s insane, and honestly he feels like he might be. you’re confused and rightfully so, because there are so many remnants of him left in your space, so clearly evident the impact he’s left on you.

“can’t or won’t?”

kaeya’s eyes snap up to yours, because the tremor in your voice sends a jolt of fear down to his stomach, churning and roiling until it makes him sick.

he regrets looking, because he can feel himself breaking then and there.

you’re looking at him with these shining eyes and he swears that he’s glimpses them again—the brightest stars he’s ever had the privilege of seeing. for a second he thinks the light of those stars might disappear because that’s what always happens. but they remain, glowing against the backdrop of your irises and he’s captivated all over again.

his plans to leave you in tears fly out the window then and there.

he’s reaching for your cheeks in less than a second, holding them delicately as he lets his thumbs brush over your teary lashes. there’s a reasonable bit of confusion in your face at his sudden change, but when he leans down to kiss you, you don’t protest, melting into him even though he’s so undeniably cold. kaeya doesn’t even realize he’s saying he loves you, choosing to murmur it against your lips because it’s not meant for anyone else to hear—just the two of you.

he remains there, in the quiet darkness of your room for the rest of the night, because he doesn’t want to leave your side even after he told himself he would.

and yes, he dreads tomorrow. he dreads tomorrow because he knows that he will have to choose between the comfortable home he’s found in you or the dark abyss that has swallowed his past.

he’s scared that the more he allows himself to fall into you, and the more he finds that your eyes are the ones that hold the stars of celestia, then the easier his choice will become.

he’s been chasing the stars for so long after all. now that he finally has them, why in teyvat would he let them go?

[themage9062]

I've never wanted someone in-universe to look at a character and go "what the fuck did they do to you" until now

(Minor dog-man spoilers but nothing that wasn't seen in a trailer until stated otherwise)

I'm pretty sure everyone's gone through the "I just thought of the concept of dogman for more than two seconds and have decided it's fucked up" phase but its destroying my mind at the moment

Now I know I'm not supposed to read too into it because George and Harold's writing is generally silly and unrealistic unless they're projecting but i'm going to do it anyways.

How does dogman even make noise?? Are the stiches attached by the top of his neck or the base?? Because that drastically changes his vocal range if it's one or the other. I'm assuming it's he's attached to officer knights body at the base of his neck so it makes sense that he can't speak.

Does he need physical therapy??? I'm pretty sure the human body isn't supposed to move like a dog's. We've all seen him move like he would if he was still normal but no matter how natural it feels we're bipedal and he's forcing his body to do quadruped. Would he have to curb his dog behaviors in order to not harm knight's body? (Note: In my eyes, he 100% doesn't see officer knights body as *his*, even though he controls it. It is one of the last things he has of him after all.)

But he does have moments where he just doesn't do that at all and walks and runs like a human should + whatever fighting style he uses. Is he doing these things off of muscle memory from officer knights body?? If so, what the hell happens if he wants to learn something new??

What does his diet look like? We've seen him eat dog food but I'm pretty sure that's not healthy in the long run for a human's body. I don't know anything about serious about biology, but dogs can't eat chocolate because of their stomach, no? So can he taste chocolate for the first time? Does he inherit Knight's allergies??

[Spoilers below the cut, but the general idea is questioning if he can be counted as sapient or not, so buh bye if you haven't watched it yet!]

Most importantly to me, because I really want to enjoy the Detey ship but there's always this question ringing in my head, did he get smart enough to be counted as sapient? The procedure was vague as George and Harold fumbled the specifics but there had to be some neural surgery from his brain to his body right??

It was cute and all, but his interactions with petey, especially after becoming his friend after he recently killed his best friend was a bit concerning in the mental department. I know most of this can be boiled down to "the middle schoolers aren't Shakespeare" but come on lemme overthink about this

I NEED ANSWERS THAT I WONT GET GAAAAAAAAAH

[emma23]

Married for money :

Nathan bateman x reader

Nathan’s house smelled faintly of cedarwood and freshly brewed coffee. Y/N shifted uncomfortably on the edge of the sleek black couch, her fingers drumming an uneven beat on her knee. The sun filtered through the massive glass windows, casting an unforgiving light on the high-tech yet oddly cozy interior.

Nathan, barefoot and nursing a glass of something far too strong for this early in the day, leaned casually against the kitchen counter, watching her with that infuriatingly unreadable smirk.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong, or do I have to bribe it out of you?” he asked, tipping the glass toward her in a mock toast.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Why do you always assume I have a problem?”

“Because you’ve been staring at that same spot on the floor for five minutes. Either you’ve lost something, or you’re overthinking again.”

She glared at him, but he wasn’t wrong. “Fine. I was just... wondering if we’re insane.”

He raised a brow. “Define ‘we.’”

“Us.” She gestured vaguely between them. “This... marriage thing. It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? We don’t exactly scream ‘perfect couple.’”

Nathan chuckled, a low, rich sound that both irritated and thrilled her. “Ridiculous? Absolutely. But perfect? That’s a stretch even I wouldn’t make.”

She tossed a throw pillow at him, which he dodged effortlessly. “You’re not helping!”

“Relax, Y/N. People do ridiculous things all the time. Like the time you tried to ‘fix’ the toaster and ended up setting it on fire.”

“That was one time!”

“And yet, here we are. Married. Living proof that bad decisions can lead to... slightly better ones.”

Y/N crossed her arms. “I didn’t marry you for your toaster opinions, you know.”

“No, you married me for my money.” He grabbed his wallet off the counter, pulling out a sleek black card. “Speaking of which...”

Before she could protest, he walked over and waved the card in front of her face. “Sam will drive you. Go buy whatever overpriced nonsense you’ve been eyeing lately.”

“I have my own card,” she mumbled, already regretting the pout in her voice.

“But I thought you married me for my money,” he teased, his lips quirking into that smug grin she simultaneously loved and hated.

She snatched the card out of his hand, her own grin spreading. “Yup, that’s correct. Thanks, darling.”

Nathan leaned down, his face so close to hers that her breath hitched. His voice was soft, teasing, but there was a hint of something deeper. “Just a heads-up... you’ll probably regret marrying me.”

She tilted her head, meeting his gaze without flinching. “I don’t think so.”

Two hours later, Y/N returned with a single bag. Nathan arched a brow as she plopped onto the couch, smug satisfaction written all over her face.

“That’s it? I was expecting you to come back with half the store,” he teased, eyeing the logo on the bag.

“Quality over quantity,” she replied, pulling out a ridiculously expensive bottle of whiskey and setting it on the coffee table.

His expression softened, his eyes flicking from the bottle to her. “You bought me whiskey?”

“Consider it a thank-you for putting up with me,” she said, leaning back with a self-satisfied smile.

Nathan walked over, his steps slow and deliberate. He sat beside her, close enough that their legs touched, and picked up the bottle, inspecting it.

“You’re not so bad, Y/N,” he said softly, setting the whiskey down.

“Don’t get sappy on me now,” she warned, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.

Nathan’s hand found her chin, tilting her face toward his. His gaze locked on hers, and for a moment, the usual sarcasm and teasing disappeared. “I mean it,” he murmured.

Her breath caught as his lips brushed hers—soft, tentative, testing. She responded without hesitation, her hand finding the back of his neck and pulling him closer. The kiss deepened, all teasing forgotten, replaced by something raw and undeniable.

When they finally pulled apart, Nathan rested his forehead against hers, his voice low and full of mischief. “If this is what I get for giving you my credit card, I should’ve done it sooner.”

Y/N laughed, swatting his arm. “Don’t push your luck, Bateman.”

He grinned, pressing a quick kiss to her temple before leaning back. “Oh, I fully intend to.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the room in warm amber hues, Y/N realized that maybe, just maybe, marrying Nathan Bateman wasn’t her worst decision after all.

“I still can’t believe you married me,” Nathan said later that evening, sprawled out beside her on the couch.

Y/N smirked. “I know. I must’ve been drunk.”

“You were.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Oh, yeah. Hammered.”

“Nathan!”

[redd956]

Hey, hope you’re doing well. Do you have any advice for coming up with names? Towns/cities, locations, creatures, characters, thingamabobs, all those things?

Hope I’m not being too vague, but if I am, specifically creatures and/or characters. How do you think of a name that’s meaningful or suits them? Just find a name, say it aloud and see if you like it? I know name generators exist (like fantasy name generator. They’re great and have a lot) but sometimes nothing really fits the vibe or appearance or lore or a sort of deeper meaning (yeah, names don’t always have to be like that, but I like being detailed and overthink with these things lol sorry), hopefully that makes sense.

Plus, in some places/mythologies/cultures, names have a lot of meaning and power, like people referring to powerful corrupt people as “he who should be be named” or with the whole Fae-stealing-names thing. Some names evoke different feelings from respect and fear to disgust and mocking, and some names are for mocking purposes that sometimes “replace” a things name in big cases.

What about the roots of a name? Assuming that you haven’t world built an entire dang language with suffix’s and grammar and all that, how would roots play into it (probably self answered)? Also with names being the core of someone’s being, so I guess my overthinking is actually somewhat justified?

Sorry for the wall of text and questions, again, I overthink and analyze answering questions like this in their entirety and try to include EVERYTHING, but this MAIN QUESTION is just how do you go about creating meaningful names for characters and creatures? All of the other words are mainly my brain musings and the whole “take fricking everything into account” so you can ignore them or use them for more thought provocation if you want. Feel free to take as much time as you need and answer in as much or as little detail as you want

Hope you’re having a great day/night and are taking care of yourself and staying hydrated and all that jazz :]

-idk (@idkanonymystuff. Tagging myself in case I forget I asked and won’t accidentally send it again)

Of course! Although I am personally quite bad at naming things, my own poor characters included XD

But anything to help prevent someone to become like me. This is going to be a long one.

Worldbuilding: Naming Conventions

Names As Descriptions

People

Historically and overall, generally cultures have used names as descriptions, whether about appearance, workforce, or even past achievements. We see this especially in English Surnames, Native American Names, and Abrahamic Names

Grace, Philip, Baker, Miller, Smith, Chris, Abigail, Johnson; all have descriptive origins, whether in their historical name variants or other.

Abigail was once Aviḡayil from Hebrew, which roots of av mean father, and gil mean joy, meaning the name meant "my Father is Joy"

It's also common for cultures to have family occupational surnames. The Millers own a windmill, Smiths had a blacksmith, Coopers made barrels.

Names don't have to have such strong meaning though. Many people are happy giving their children names they just like the sound of, or mean something to them in personal ways, like a grandmother, a country/continent, or even favorite song artist.

(Hopefully they're not like my friend's mom. I'm so sorry Airyc)

There's currently a trend in Japan to give people ridiculously cute names, although it is viewed similarly as "tradedeigh" names in the United States. (Sorry any Kayleighs)

We also see naming cultures like China's, which I will go on more about later.

If you want to look further into the etymology of names I suggest the website Behind the Name, it not only has a good name randomizer but also an amazing name dictionary with some explanation of history and origins.

Animals

As for animals the names get far much more whimsical. I honestly just suggest looking through the names of birds in your local region.

We see descriptive names like American Goldfinch, a bright yellow bird found in the United States. Sometimes they're named after their discoverers or famous people, especially scientific names. Or the sound they make, like a finch.

Names can also be straightforward; Fried Egg Jellyfish, Bullet Ant, Blobfish, Mountain Chicken

Or random like the Nonsense Rat

Names As Achievements/Fluid

Some cultures use names as achievements or role-examples, most infamously many Native America tribes, such as the Lakota. Eventually you earn a new name based off of something you've done or are.

As for the Lakota, a naming ceremony takes place where people present receive their new name, entering them into the family of the Lakota.

Some cultures have a multiple names system, more complex then the middle name system we see in English style names. You can work with a naming culture where people go by different names at work, then they do at home.

The Inuit often name their children by passing on the name of a spirit, which is selected by an elder after they receive a sign that a spirit is ready, this is because they believe a person never really dies and instead a spirit embodies a child.

In fact traditions of the parents not naming the children is another common thing seen, in worldbuilding too, such as names being chosen by an important member of society or even provided through magic.

In Brazil we see the Pirahã people, which go through many names throughout their lives, often to combat and avoid dark spirits.

Names don't always have to be a one and done, even in Western culture we see the action of changing your first name to match for gender affirming reasons, or even abandonment of an abusive family.

Family

We often see the tradition of the family name, often times the surname in the west, and the first name in some eastern countries like China. Think [First Name] [Family Name] versus [Family Name] [Secondary Name]

Having a family shows the importance to so many various cultures that is family, or knowing where you've came from. We also have traditions like taking on the surname of a lover (traditional the man's surname in a heterosexual pairing).

In several Hispanic cultures they have two surnames, their father's first surname, and their mother's first surname. So their names look like [First Name] [Father Surname]-[Mom Surname]. This is written similarly to conjoined surnames when people simply combined surnames instead of replacing one when marrying.

Maybe we're working with a culture that doesn't honor family at all, do they have secondary names? Do they only need one name? A sole named culture would put a lot of emphasis into the inner workings of having one name... and that's because names hold power.

Power of Names

I'm sure you've heard the historical rumor that we have middle names to protect us from fairies and demons. That is because there is a sort of natural power to names, and in various cultures many superstitions that come with them.

The more prevalent the supernatural, or religious beliefs, the more superstitious people are going to be about names.

As for the origin of middles names it's still mostly unknown. Many cultures have reinvented the middle name for various reasons, including the superstitious belief that if a fairy or demon got a hold of your entire name, first to last, they could own you. The middle name was introduced as a name only people the closest to you would know, and when you gave out your first and last name you would still be safe.

Other origins include requirements that your child had a saint's name in traditional Christian societies. While when middle names first appeared in medieval England, it was actually illegal for the common people to have them, as middle names were reserved for the wealthy, important, or royal.

In China and many other East Asian nations they believe that the name holds luck. Directly translated many Chinese names becomes things like Wealth, Strength, Wisdom, and Success. There's many other superstitions, including not naming your children's after someone alive in your family or after someone who met a tragic end.

This is why sometimes Chinese people using English names will meticulously choose their name, to find something of equal value.

In a world with magic I wouldn't be surprised if the magic that someone posses plays a role in their name too. In my own worldbuilding, nations like Mondie, Charagon, and Tannica which use mostly western naming basis will see surnames based off of magic. Some characters deviate from this within their own nations for religious or subcultural regions, such as the people from the Lichtfuer Kingdom, or Fayen-Charagonian Immigrants.

Nicknames & Callsigns

Speaking in terms of militaristic characters we bring in nicknames and callsigns.

Rarely ever are callsigns from cool or badass actions. Their origins are usually very embarrassing or insulting, no in-between. Often times the badass titles that we think of are from war heroes, who are the few out of thousands of soldiers, and usually dubbed onto them after their efforts are known historically or from their enemies.

People like the White Death, the Red Baron (Rote Kampfflieger), or Lady Death were also still people. Their nicknames did lead to people idolizing or exaggerating their actions, often times becoming so focused on their war stories that the outside about them is left untouched. Although they have these nicknames, they are all still indicative of their role in war or times as unwilling propagandist.

Callsign stories are a great place to look for how silly and strange their origins can actually be. There's entire forums dedicated to it. My own grandparents even had callsigns, Doc and Hillbilly.

Doc was my granddad's callsign, because he was a medic. My papa had the callsign hillbilly while in training because his rural Indiana accent was mostly unheard of at the time, and reminded people of hillbillies. That was just the 60s though. Nowadays people will have callsigns like "Firehose" meaning that they pissed themselves once really really bad.

Thankfully I never went into the military, because I already had the high school nickname "Shortcake" for being very very short.

Dangerous/Infamous Animals

When it comes to infamous people we see similar naming conventions as dangerous animals, think of an unkillable dragon or a mutant wolf that has gone rogue.

In the early 1900s there was a tiger called the Man-Eater that had gone rogue due to physical and emotional trauma from poaching, leaving the tiger to prefer hunting humans instead of its usual.

There are many cases of animals like this having names in such a way, from monster catfishes to a crocodile named Gustave.

Final Thoughts

There's even more that goes on behind names, than I would feel comfortable with covering in one post. Maybe in the future I will do another, touching on other aspects.

Honestly when naming my own characters I don't think too hard, but that's just me. I know some people take naming characters very seriously.

A lot of my worldbuilding does have its own naming conventions, but I often find myself trying to cheat anyway.

[eternalwritess]

hiii! first off, i just wanted to let you know how much i love your work- your writing is so adorable, and ifff you're taking requests, i'd like to make one for jjk (o^^o)

for appearance- im about 5'1, i have reaaaallyyy long hair (knee length and dark brown). i wear glasses or contacts (mostly glasses though, theyre just comfier lol). i usually fit a size small, but i'm on the curvier side, and my style is super feminine but still kinda minimalistic. i really love shoujo-style fashion and how carefree, yet pretty and elegant it is :3

personality wise- i'm an isfj, lil bit of a perfectionist, very prone to overthinking and people-pleasing (working on it though), and i really like being helpful to others.

i like to bake, read philosophy, mystery, and manga, listen to music (studio ghibli instrumentals, jazz), and i love to sew my own clothes. i'm also a psychology major, my favourite colour is pink, and i love bunnies <33

thank you again!! you're super talented, and your blog rocks 🌟🌟

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✬ I feel like the two of you would most likely meet outside of Jujutsu Tech, like after he quit and everything. I don't necessarily know where you work so I assume the two of you most likely met outside of it, at a park or something. You could always see curses and and one day when you saw him exorcise one and were shocked to see that people could just get rid of those things

✬ He noticed that you saw what he did and he was about to go away when he saw that you were about to be attacked by one, he killed it and asked you if you were okay

✬ You said you were okay before asking him what exactly those things were and if they were spirits, to which he vaguely responded by saying how they were curses and such. Soon enough you asked him how he could just do that and he explained that he was a Jujutsu sorcerer one thing led to another and now... you two know each other :)

✬ It was basically you both running into each other a bunch before finally hanging out and having fun, you were actually the person who convinced him to go back into Jujutsu society too!

>.<

✬ You and him bake every now and then, he wasn't very good at it at first but sooner or later you managed to teach him and he learned relatively quickly!

✬ You and him most likely share book recommendations often and he typically recommends more philosophical books but given your major I don't think you'll have much of a problem with it :)

✬ You help him out whenever and however you can after work, even though he tries to get you to stop you still do and he loves you more for it :)

[cheemscakecat]

Missing in Action 10

Chapter 10: Splitting Up

The hunt for Merasmus begins, with Scout and Spy left to hold down the base. They’ll be fine… right?

TW: Heavy angst. Spy is not in fact okay.

Ms Pauling briefed the team on a Merasmus lead. She said he mighta been training up in the Appalachian mountains to ruin Soldier and Zhanna’s wedding. She told Scout and Spy to stay at base, so someone could guard it while the others went after him.

Jeremy was glad that Soldier and Pyro weren’t staying at base; he’da been left to baby sit them alone, with Spy not feeling right and being new. Then again, this was a real threat to Soldier, so he wouldn’t have stayed put at base anyway. It looked like he was really taking this seriously, as far as Scout could tell.

Spy looked stiff for the whole briefing. Angry even. But Scout figured he was just on edge because of last night’s nightmare.

—————————

Heavy was glad that Pauling didn't waste any time. Zhanna was new to America and the most naive of his sisters. He could only hope that her training was real and useful to her.

He didn’t like her marrying Solider, but had to respect the man for wanting to protect her. And for trusting in her strength as well. Soldier was impatient to start the mission one he heard the briefing.

Heavy also wanted to avenge Spy, not just his sister. If that curse had not hit Spy, he may have already fixed things with Scout. At the least, the team boy would not have been so sleepless and ill with bottled tears.

It was time for answers. They packed up swiftly and got ready for one last stop on the way.

—————————

Spy and Scout were in no condition to go on this hunt, even if they could’a known the truth. Engineer couldn’t bear to leave Pyro in their care with everything goin on. He knew that if Pyro had to withhold fire, he’d be a much bigger threat to Merasmus when he was finally found. And Soldier was already ruthlessly ready.

The plan was to look for Merasmus and take any help or clues from the other magic users. Once they found their evil old wizard, they’d trap him for Pauling so she could question him.

They had Soldier call up Zhanna and the Holy Wizards to assist. Bein Merasmus’ Halloween playthings, they needed all the magical assistance they could get.

—————————-

Demoman and Sniper talked to Pauling in the ship. Sniper had also noticed Spy acting strange around her, and wondered if it was connected to that terrible nightmare. “The lad looked fierce the first time, but I was the only one who saw. Thought it was the scrumpy playin tricks on me eye.”

“He was like that at today’s briefing too. Not sure if theah’s something he hated Helen for, or if it’s just the nightmare problem.” They had to be vague with Soldier, Pyro, and Zhanna in the ship.

“I thought he sounded off, but you know how much I overthink. I just assumed it was me overthinking last time.” Pauling said. “The sooner we get Merasmus locked eway, the better. So we can puzzle out what to do.” “I agree. You guys have a battle put on hold until you get back, but after that we should investigate.”

——————————-

Medic kept a wide expanse between himself and the wizards. He wasn’t sure if they could sense his dealings with the Devil, but the way they were talking about the dark arts, he didn’t need them finding out. They focused on healing and growth spells, like planting new forests and healing herbs.

It was a bit surprising that they got along with Soldier so well, but nobody was complaining. They said that the Appalachians were enchanted to allow wizards to train and experiment without interruption. The practice was put into place during an uneasy peace between holy and dark magic users.

It was better to bring them along and risk his deal getting screwed up, than to get cursed or lost in the enchanted mountains. Soldier’s strange habit of attracting magic was coming in handy for once.

————————-

Heavy was surprised that the white wizards trusted Soldier to wander in the woods; when they got out of the ship, none of the magic users took issue with Soldier’s erratic behavior. Here he seemed to move with unexpected smoothness, as if he knew the land well.

Zhanna had been training under these men, so perhaps Soldier had learned how to act through her. Though Heavy didn’t notice too much difference in how the man was acting now. Pyro was being closely watched now that it was established he was not permitted to set the forest ablaze. Doktor was acting strange, like he was uncomfortable with the wizards being there.

The magic allowed them to travel undisturbed through wizard trails, hidden from that one BLU Scout and the other local people. Strange plants and animals were all around them, many of them being pleasant smelling and beautiful. Zhanna said she had been growing some of these flowers and vines for the wedding, and the wizards were making new hybrid plants for the desert.

The wizard with two points in his beard explained that the dark faction was very likely to kill unsuspecting locals for venturing too close to their lairs. The hidden trail magic and enchanted eerie feeling in this place was created by the light faction, to remove any excuse for such murders. It was accepted by the evil wizards for providing them privacy when they didn’t want to see non-magicians.

It also meant that they must be careful not to attack random creatures, in case they belonged to someone bloodthirsty. Only if they were attacked first, and the wizard magic failed them. Heavy was worried that Soldier would not follow that rule, but he was surprisingly unbothered by the magic birds and little creatures. He didn’t lash out to attack like anyone thought he would.

————————

Soldier jumped back as something huge ran across the path, growling. It was a giant raccoon, the size of an elephant. It looked like it was going to attack, but stopped. Doe swore he’d seen this one before. No, that didn’t-

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the newly-weds.” Merasmus. Merasmus could bring things back to life. But Lieutenant bites and the other raccoons didn’t leave behind bodies, how could he have done this?

“Thought it was a shame to waste these savage little animals after you dodged my magic.” The wizard smirked. “Attack if you wish, it’ll only hurt them and you.” *******! He was using Soldier’s friends as a meat-shield! Doe couldn’t fight his raccoons like the other monsters, and they would not attack him. He didn’t know how to get back at Merasmus this time.

He stared out at the other wizards, looking bored and annoyed. “Stay out of this, goody-goodies. This man killed my innocent roommate and destroyed my lair many times. You’re on the wrong side.”

Soldier knew the other mercenaries weren't really on his side right now, but they cared about Zhanna. Everyone knew he was dumb, they just assumed he was too dumb to see how they looked at him. It had always been like that, with other kids, and teachers, and orphanage people. He didn’t know what the white wizards would do if they agreed with Merasmus. For once, he didn’t yell anything.

“Did you ever explain your rules?” Spice wizard asked. Merasmus looked annoyed. “What was there to explain? We were in a lair with normal human furniture, it’s not like I asked him to do magic. Any person should have had common sense-“ The white wizards launched magic at the raccoons that turned them back to normal. Lieutenant Bites jumped on Doe and bit him, his way of saying hello.

“I missed you too, Bites.” He choked out. The other raccoons abandoned Merasmus too, sitting next to the wizards and mercenaries without trouble. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Do you know what he’s like?!”

“Yes”. Said the tea wizard with the two tailed beard. “And I also know he’s a feral child Merasmus. And you know that common sense is not the same to them.” Zhanna stepped forward. “Did he kill Tom Jones before you threatened to kill everyone he loves?” Merasmus grumbled. “No..” Zhanna shrugged. “Then it vas returning favor, I think.”

“I forgot about that!” Demoman said. Soldier turned to look, and the whole team seemed just as surprised as Demo. “Come to think of it, yeah! Ye the one who be cursin us all each Halloween. Been doin that fer far longer than ye lived with Jones.”

It was times like this that Doe remembered Zhanna really understood him. Sometimes he worried that she would get fed up with him like everyone else, but right now he knew she wouldn’t. And the wizards didn’t get fed up with him, and the other men were trying to understand. Things were not so bad.

“Merasmus.” The old wizard general growled. “Did you target this man’s team over a death, or over property damage?”

————————

The necromancer started to stutter, sensing that the Holy wizards had turned against him. Medic knew they had to be stronger than him, in numbers alone. They joined hands with each other and Heavy’s sister, and started chanting.

The oldest wizard with the longest beard continued to talk. “Merasmus. By order of the Holy Herbologists, thou art sealed in these mountains forever! No more will you torment non-wizards in this or any other place with thy magic.” Some kind of glowing lock appeared on the necromancer, before disappearing.

“What?! What is the meaning of this, high master?” The wizard with the goatee and the sass piped up. “Well, since you decided to live in the desert amongst non-magicians, you caused conflict with this Soldier and his friends. This place is free to both Holy and Evil wizards to separate from the normal folk of this world, but you didn’t use it. It stands to reason that your travel privileges should be taken.”

Another wizard turned to everyone. “Even if he goes into the local towns, he’s blocked from using magic on the people there. So don’t worry, the civilians are safe too.”

—————————-

“Will he be able to wander very far?” Engineer asked. They would need to come back to get more answers if he wasn’t mistaken. “No, he’s locked into a certain acreage so we can monitor things. Why, is something else going on?”

Engineer whispered an explanation, apologizing for the secrecy before. They couldn’t tell all of the teammates.

“A dark de-aging spell and cruel nightmare… I’ve heard of this spell. In animals, it is not so difficult to undo, but when a human is cursed, only going through their life’s memories in order can reverse it. Your teammate needs to look through his old things, pictures, letters, anything like that.” Engineer frowned, and so did Heavy, who was listening too.

”Zhis Spy on our team, he is very private. And some of that is our fault for teasing him.” Engineer wasn’t surprised that Heavy regretted that camera prank. He wouldn’t be surprised if Medic did too. “Ve do not know vhere his things are, to help him.”

Soldier and Zhanna were chatting with each other romantically and noticed them all huddled to speak privately. “What’s going on?” “Wedding surprises.” They said in unison. That was enough to send the lovebirds on their merry way, thankfully. “I’m sorry, without something to remind him of his life in order, there’s no way to undo this curse. Many have looked for another cure, but it doesn’t exist.”

————————

Back in the ship on the way home, Soldier, Zhanna and Pyro had fallen asleep. Pyro had been allowed to burn something to calm his nerves of course. Heavy asked the wizards what a feral child was.

The answer surprised him. Apparently through Soldier and Zhanna, the wizards had learned that he was raised by feral raccoons. They said that he was not permitted to join the American military because of this feral nature.

“Some of these lost children are unable to adjust to civilization. They were taught the common sense of wild creatures in nature, human common sense doesn’t pair well with it.” The elder wizard explained. “But in any case, Holy wizards often meet this children, at a higher rate than normal humans. Merasmus is more than aware of the signs that someone is a feral child, but in all these years he did not report it. He chose revenge instead.”

Heavy was glad to know this, before he became even more disapproving of the marriage. They had all wondered why the soldier was so strange, and now they knew. They could get help from these wizards to make the base understandable to him, and Zhanna thankfully already knew. Things were finally starting to look up.

——————————

Scout really needed to talk to the other teammates in private. He wished they were back, Spy needed their help bad.

It started out weird but harmless enough. Spy looked off at nothing, wandering the halls and staring out windows for no reason. Jeremy wasn’t good at talkin about feelings, and he didn’t know what to say about Spy’s nightmare from the night before. But after a whole day of Spy acting really weird, he decided to check up on him.

Nobody was here to make fun of him for being weak, and nobody would have anyway. He was starting to wonder how much his brothers had ****ed up his brain, for him to be hesitatin in the empty base.

He visited new Spy in the smoking room that night. He was just sitting there, looking into the fire. His revolver was on the side table, but the barrel was open and clearly emptied of bullets. Spy was smoking a cigarette and holding a glass of wine. When he heard the door and Scout’s footsteps, he lifted the glass and looked in the reflection on it.

“Oh, hello. I was not expecting you.” Spy said, turning suddenly. This was wrong. Nobody else was there, he shouldn’t have been checking visitors with a wine glass either way. “Heh. Whaddya mean? We’re the only ones here right now…” There was something wrong in Spy’s eyes, but he couldn’t place it. Jeremy was getting another nasty gut feelin.

“You are a nice person, desert Scout.” He nodded once, still feeling uneasy. “Please close the door.” Jeremy did and looked around. “What’s wrong? Did a BLU Spy get in?” “No. Not BLU. Something worse, but I cannot say.”

“Spy, what’s goin on?” Jeremy asked. Spy went real quiet for a minute, too quiet. When he did look at him, he didn’t look right. “I’m going to die soon. That helicopter, it was no accident.” The room was warm from the fire, but Scout froze and felt a chill run down his spine. He hurried and sat down in a chair across from Spy.

“Someone’s after you? Who?” New Spy shook his head. “I cannot tell you.” “Well, I can’t sit back and ignore this. Who?” Spy stared into his drink, chugged it, and tried to shrug. “I had a false identity in Canada. Secret agent, their CIA. I came to RED when they got close to finding me out, to tracking me.” He stared at the fire.

“It seems they’ve found me.” Scout wasn’t the smartest, but that explanation was too simple, and too fast. Spy didn’t hesitate like when he talked about his kid. There had to be more to it than that. “What can I do to help?” “Let it happen. Don’t get involved, or you’ll be in danger too.”

“Hell no! Listen Spy- nobody in their right mind would cross Admin like that, and the others..” The others weren’t there. Spy thought he was getting silenced tonight. Jeremy didn’t know much about Canada, but he sure hadn’t heard of a Mob up there. He didn’t like this one bit.

“Admin… would prefer not to get involved. No use losing good mercenaries like you over me. So please…” Spy looked at him. “You must not try to stop it. This is why I did not want to say, I knew you’d want to.”

“I can’t do nothing, Spy. Listen, why don’t we just go to the camera room with some food and lock the door? Bring our guns, keep watch on the base… We can wait this out until the others get back and it’s too hard to target you again.” Spy didn’t look hopeful at all.

“When I.. When I die.” He pulled out a sealed envelope. “Give this to the Administrator. But don’t read it yourself, she wouldn’t like that.” Scout thankfully had two words to try to read in the fire-light. Divorce Papers.

“My ex… I want her to get my money when I’m gone. And I want Admin know that she was uninvolved in this matter, so she can tell the Canadians to stop at me.” He put his hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. “Remember, whatever happens, my ex didn’t know anything.”

Scout stayed posted outside the smoking room all night. He didn’t know whether Spy was having another episode, or if this was real. And he wasn’t gonna take chances. The others had to know when they got back, the minute he could pull them aside and explain. This wasn’t right whether it was real or not.

Spy had been hesitant to talk about his kid. His ex had a two year old. They were in danger, and Jeremy was smart enough to know it. He didn’t believe that Canada story, Spy musta gotten in trouble with the mob or somethin. Somebody who was actually bloodthirsty, either way.

Scout had never heard of the mob infiltrating the Gravel War. The old Admin was too scary even for them. But Pauling was in charge now… they might have gotten the idea that it would fly with her in charge. Maybe Spy was a basket case, but somehow, Jeremy doubted it.

All he knew was that something was wrong, and the others needed to get back already.

[ftwdb]

Don't Say Go.

Chapter 10.

Summary: Soulmates find each other through what is known as The Pull. A sense within a persons body that their soulmate is within reach that guides them to find them. You find yourself following this Pull, guided by vague dreams of a man you can't quite see, until you collapse in the wild and are found by Troy, your soulmate, who has been following the same feeling toward you for days.

Once connected soulmates are able to share emotions through their bond, as well as being able to sense where the other is. But how this force works is very much a mystery still, it can vary from soulmate to soulmate, and just sometimes a connection too deep can lead twist a bond from something beautiful to, well...

Warnings: Dark themes, sexual content, violence, non-graphic description/implications of SA, child abuse and domestic violence. References to addiction. Unhealthy love/obsession/relationships. Soulmate AU. Eventual smut.

You’d been sitting on the steps of the Otto house when the militia returned. Troy had been behind the wheel of the first truck and spotted you instantly as he came to a halt. His eyes never left your face as he stepped from the vehicle, barking orders at the men inside as he did so.

You stood, wiping your slightly sweaty hands on the cut off jeans you’d been given, glancing at where Mike was sat in the passenger seat of the truck avoiding your eyes (you had a feeling Troy had had a few choice words with him after the incident in the bunk’s shower) whilst another man you couldn’t remember the name of bundled someone out of the backseat.

You frowned as Troy reached you.

“You okay?” Troy asked, examining your face.

You nodded, forcing yourself to look at him and not at the strange sight at the truck.

“Of course. Sorry I didn’t want to worry you, I was just waiting for you get back.”

Troy hmm-ed in such a way that you knew he could tell there was something on your mind, but your decision to have a heart to heart was quickly being forgotten.

“Who is that?” You asked.

Troy glanced back over his shoulder as Mike and Blake led the stranger to the medical tent.

“Not sure yet. Maybe no one,” Troy said as he took your hand.

You weren’t sure what to make of his answer but as his fingers curled between yours you quickly felt your anxiety fading. The tension in your chest was also easing. It was a feeling like sinking into a hot bath at the end of a long, cold day. For a moment your entire being buzzed with the sense of relief at having your soulmate back with you.

Troy’s men filed by without a word. You realised it was odd for Troy to behave like this. Even though he’d been by your side at every moment he could when you’d returned to the ranch he hadn’t shown any kind of affection toward you in front of anyone else.

You’d tried not to overthink it and respected his need for space. It was still a big adjustment for you both, and a shock to everyone else as you’d came to understand.

You’d overheard people whispering sometimes, looking at Troy with an almost fearful expression. You assumed in his role as head of the militia he had to have a certain aura of authority to command respect and obedience. Perhaps that was why gestures like this weren’t in his nature, he couldn’t be soft when he had so many people relying on him for for protection.

Including you.

Guilt suddenly began to eat away at you. During your time at the ranch all you’d done was eat and hide away. Troy had followed your lead patiently, it was time to start giving something back as thanks for his understanding.

“I was waiting because I think it’s time I did something for this place. Contributed.”

Troy’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but only for a moment.

“Did Jake say you're ready because-“

“I’m fine,” you tried to reassure him with a smile and a squeeze of his hand, “I promise to take it easy at first. But I can’t be the only freeloader in this place.”

Troy’s eyes flashed.

“Did someone say something? My father?”

You shook your head.

“Everyone has been great,” if a little intense, you thought. “I just want to feel like I belong here.”

“You do,” Troy said almost too forcefully, “you belong with me.”

Your smile this time was genuine.

Troy began to relax and you let him lead you toward the bunk house before deciding you didn’t want to spend the rest of the day closed away.

“Can’t I stay with you?” You asked.

Troy shook his head, “Not until I get more intel on our newest arrival.”

“You think he’s dangerous?”

Troy’s shoulders were tense, his loose grip on your hand a giveaway that he was trying too hard to appear relaxed.

“I don’t trust strangers,” was all he said.

You couldn’t help the quiet laugh as Troy shot you a quizzical look.

“I’d never have guessed,” you teased. Troy scowled as he thought about how you’d met, how cruel he must have seemed to have sent you running off into the wild where he could’ve lost you for good.

You gave a playful tug of his hand.

“It’s okay, you know. Everything turned out okay.”

Troy didn’t reply but his scowl eased.

“Just promise me you’ll stay in the bunk house until I’m sure you’ll be safe.”

Worry nagged at you. If Troy was really so concerned then why bring the stranger back to the ranch at all?

As you reached the familiar door Troy spun to face you, pulling from your grip as he placed both hands gently on your arms instead. His hold was loose enough that you didn’t feel threatened by him, even as he towered over you, but you could sense the tension radiating from him.

“Just a few hours and I’ll be back. I promise.”

“In time for dinner?” You said. “We could eat with the others tonight. Together?”

You could tell his smile was strained as he promised to walk you from your bunk to the canteen. Your cheeks warmed a little as you spoke quietly.

"Like a date?"

Troy paused, torn between amusement and his sense of duty as he knew his brother would be waiting with questions. And his father, no doubt. He had brought home two stragglers this week and it had not put him in good stead with Big Otto so far.

"Like a date. Although I hope you don't expect flowers," Troy shot at you as he opened your door and ushered you inside.

You pretended to be disappointed as you said your goodbyes. Troy waited until you had closed your door and he heard the bolt slide shut before hastily making his way across the campsite. You watched him leave from the window, genuinely disappointed to see him go already but feeling happier at the thought of sharing a real meal with him that night. Perhaps even getting to know some of the militia a little better, since they were who Troy spent most of his time with. You could figure out the best way to contribute to the ranch once you'd sized everyone up and knew who would be the most tolerable to spend your days with.

Heading toward the shower room you decided to clean up as best you could before dinner, even picking out the cleanest clothes you had. They were nothing special, a pair of worn jeans that weren't stained and a light blue shirt made of soft cotton. You peered at yourself in the small mirror, already seeing how much better you were beginning to look after several days rest and proper food.

For the first time in weeks you allowed yourself to feel a small spark of happiness as you picked up your brush and began working it through your hair. Perhaps it was time to start believing in this place, in Troy... in a future.

XXX

He could hear raised voices before he'd even reached the medical tent. Troy braced himself as he swept aside the fabric that made up the entrance and set his jaw as his father's gaze fell to him.

"What in the holy hell were you thinking boy?" Jeremiah sneered at him.

Jake tried to sidestep his father, to put himself between him and his little brother as he had when they were children. But they were no longer children and Troy would not accept his brother treating him as such anymore.

"I was thinking he was already close to the ranch. He'd have come across us eventually." Troy said flatly, "Better to bring him in on our terms then have him sneak inside or turn out there."

Jeremiah scoffed, "Cooper already briefed me about your scouting mission today. One sickly man or lone undead is hardly a threat to us."

Troy hid his clenched fists behind his back. Of course the only person with higher rank when it came to the militia's intel was his father, he couldn't blame Cooper for telling Jeremiah what they had come across in the wastes if Jeremiah had asked, even if having him disobey his instructions did piss him off royally.

"I made a call," Troy shrugged. "You want him gone? I can take care of him now."

Jake began to dismiss Troy's words, insisting it wasn't necessary, whilst Troy and his father stared at each other. If Otto ordered him to shoot the man dead where he lay, cuffed and unconscious on his bed - the same bed you had lain in - Troy would do it.

His father sighed.

"It's a waste of resources. The man's on death's door."

Troy nodded, an unspoken understanding passing between the two. His clenched fist moved to the gun ever present at his side.

"You can't be serious?" Jake said, mouth agape as he watched his brother flick the safety off his weapon.

"Father's orders," Troy said, hearing his own voice as if from far away.

"This is... this is murder. The man isn't bit. He could live if we helped him!"

"And if he doesn't? What if we waste our medicine on a stranger, on one of the unprepared, what then Jake?" Jeremiah said almost tiredly.

Jake shook his head.

"We have plenty of medicine-"

"For now. We don't know what's going to happen, how long we will need to survive. We should prioritise our own."

Your name was on Troy's lips as he stopped himself asking why his father had allowed you to stay but not this man. You'd both been at death's door. Troy knew how his father felt about soulmates, a sentiment Troy had shared before meeting you and having everything his father had ever told him about the phenomena turned upside down. Had Jeremiah let you stay for him? It wasn't in his heart to show such kindness, or leniency.

It was a puzzle he was still pondering on.

His father seemed to know exactly what thoughts were plaguing his youngest son.

"Don't think I've forgotten about our other newest member just because she hides away in the bunkhouse all day."

"She' recovering-" Jake interjected before his father's raised hand silenced him.

"She's freeloading-"

"She's ready to work," Troy said louder than intended, a spark in his chest threatening to ignite at the way his father spoke of you. "She said so herself before I came here. She wants to earn her place."

Jeremiah's brows nearly disappeared beneath his hat.

"Is that so?"

Troy nodded as Jake looked exasperatedly between the two men.

"Then she can help me, here in the medical tent. I'll train her, we need more people with medical knowledge."

Troy found the suggestion agreeable. If he had to leave you with anyone his brother was a good choice. He knew Jake would watch over you when he couldn't.

"She can help me treat this man," Jake continued, "It's not a waste of resources if we're using him for training."

Jeremiah waved his hands in the air as if washing the pair of his sons from them. Troy could see the twitching of his fingers that said his father was missing the feel of a bottle between them. He tried not to smile at his brother's quick thinking.

"He's got until sundown tomorrow to show some sign of improving. If not, Troy will take care of him."

With that Jeremiah pushed past his children and exited the tent, leaving the brother's to stare at each in silence. Jake looked tiredly at the gun still in Troy's hand.

"You don't have to follow every order you know," he said almost bitterly.

Troy didn't respond. How easy it was for his big brother to judge him. They'd both suffered as children at their father's hands but Jake had always been the golden child. It was Troy who'd usually be the target of his father and mother's ire, no matter how hard he tried to please them.

He turned to leave as Jake called after him to send you to the tent in the morning. Troy would walk you before meeting with the militia to organise the next scouting mission at the border. He'd feel better knowing you'd be with Jake and not alone in the bunkhouse until he returned.

He ran a hand through his unkempt hair, feeling the knots mingled with dried blood. He still had time to clean up before dinner and turned to walk toward the main house. It was as his eyes fell on the set of steps you'd been sitting on when he'd returned earlier that he remembered the look on your face moments before your eyes had met his. You'd look deep in thought, as if preparing yourself for something and it had left a sense of dread in his gut as he'd stepped from the truck.

Troy was good at reading people. A skill he'd developed as a child to know where and when the next danger would come from. A blow to the face from his father in a drunken rage or words that cut as sharp as any knife from his mother as she ran out of drink and was forced to go through the tremors and sickness caused by the sobriety she rarely allowed herself to fall into.

He'd been too distracted by the dying man to question you further about your unusual venture from the bunkhouse, but he would be sure to get to the truth after he took some time to shower and rest.

[theflyindutchwoman]

Hello,

I can see lucy having a big undercover mission now that end up with her getting the golden ticket and that's how she will be able to be detective. I have nolan vibe from when he wanted to be TO. If anything this ep confirm for me lucy will be detective.

From what I've seen in the past 24 hours, you're not the only one who thinks that - or should I say, hope for this outcome. I'm not gonna lie, I'm a bit on the fence with the Golden Ticket scenario. And this isn't a criticism towards you, Anon, or anyone who likes this idea by the way. It's just that, like you said, this is exactly what the writers did with Nolan so rehashing the same storyline with the same outcome feels kind of lazy to me. I also can't help but feel like she should already have gotten one by now if that were to happen. If taking down two major drug cartels on your first solo UC op, despite being mostly untrained, didn't warrant one, then how is she supposed to top that? She took down another major drug cartel and some very dangerous criminals on her second UC op and that still wasn't enough.

And even if she were to get one, I don't know if that would really solve the problem. We know that Nolan still had to take the TO exam first… So does that mean Lucy would have to retake the detective exam? Or since she technically passed, can she skip that part and directly get a spot? Cos in the first case, she would still have to face Primm… and somehow I doubt he would be any less vindictive. The second outcome sounds much better but if Primm administered the oral exam, I'm assuming that means he supervises that department, right? If that's the case, knowing that one of your superior has it for you isn't exactly an enviable working environment. She could win him over, of course. Or he could also disappear like the Union president who was after Nolan. Or I could completely be overthinking this! To be clear, I'm not entirely opposed to this idea either. If that means we get more Lucy as a badass, I'm in. Maybe she will be instrumental in apprehending the bad guy in the next episode (I'm trying to be vague here so I don't spoil too much) or the mastermind behind the attacks from the finale/premiere. I just wish that the Golden Ticket hadn't already been used in a similar fashion.

[lemurzsquad]

Music to Owl Ears (Ch 1)

Ch 1: Jogging Laps

Pairing: Bokuto x musician fem!reader

Summary: After being knocked over, your morning is hijacked by the pair of students responsible, and your mind is jogging laps trying to figure out one question: What in the world just happened?

A/N: I have once again been dragged along by my own story, I have no control of what happens lol

In all seriousness tho, I was not expecting some of this stuff to happen right off the bat, but we're going with it. Also, this is NOT going to be a love triangle---Akaashi is a very important character, but I am not adding him to the romance problems TvT he just got a surprising amount of attention this chapter

I hope you enjoy!! And please read the prologue if you haven't! (It's essentially the actual Ch 1 lol)

Word count: 1510

cw: overthinking, some jealousy, rambling

"Bold for English"

"Not bold for Japanese"

- Masterlist -

< Prologue | Ch 1: Jogging Laps | Ch 2: Lunch Break >

Your first day of school turned out… interesting, to say the least. Chaotic may have been a better word—maybe hectic. Or perhaps unexpected and eventful were more accurate. Confusing? Not quite, save for the lingering question of how you got to this point in the back of your mind.

You found yourself at your assigned desk, running through English synonyms for your experiences that day and trying to think of Japanese synonyms in the process. Your teacher was running through class expectations for the year that you only vaguely listened to but never fully locked your attention on. It wasn't intentional; your mind was simply jogging laps to process what had happened that morning.

You recalled the course of events once more, attempting to grasp some sort of understanding of the question that ran through your head over and over: What in the world just happened?

After you had been pulled to your feet, eyes wide and taken aback, you finally got a good look at the person who you assumed had knocked you over—and you could immediately tell how that happened. He towered over you, still holding on and moving you around slightly to inspect for any signs of injury. From the way he had picked you up with such ease, you gathered he was pretty well built under his partially disheveled uniform. His hair was two-toned in black and silver and slicked back into what you would describe as spiky owl ears—the thought almost made you chuckle, but you kept it to yourself.

You glanced over to the left in the direction of his friend. His stature was not quite as tall or nearly as visibly brawny, and he was much more put together. He gave you a very brief look of sympathy and apology that you barely caught before your eyes turned back.

The one still holding you by the shoulders finally spoke a coherent, complete sentence that wasn't some broken variation of “Are you okay? I'm so sorry!” When he deduced you had not sustained any wounds due to his carelessness, he said, “I'm so stupid, I'm sorry. Glad you're not hurt, though!” He gave you a grin, one that was somewhere between sheepish, apologetic, and lighthearted.

“I told you, you should have been paying attention,” his black-haired friend interjected dryly. “You might want to let her go, though.”

Something seemed to click beneath his owl ears that reminded him he was still clinging to you. He pulled his hands back finally, chuckling as he scratched the back of his head. You smiled and sniffled whatever remains of your previous tears were left.

“It's no worries,” you reassured. “I should have been paying attention, too, but I didn't know where I was going.”

“Oh, are you new? A transfer student, maybe?” The shorter of the two asked while his companion went to pick up your bag and hand it back to you.

“Was it that obvious?” You joked, brushing off the remaining dust, pebbles, and strays bits of grass from your uniform. You tried your best to straighten out your outfit—the first uniform you'd ever had to wear to school before—before slinging your bag back over your shoulder and across your body.

The one to the left tilted his head slightly, replying, “Well, you were speaking English earlier, so I just took a guess.”

“And you have a strong accent,” his friend interrupted. He grinned brightly and held out his hand, unexpectedly blurting out, “I'm Bokuto Koutarou, by the way!”

You probably would have shook his hand if you didn't get distracted by your own thoughts. “Bokuto's your… surname, right? Last name, first name, I think. Sorry, I haven't met many people since I got here even though it's been a couple weeks,” you rambled. “Also, sorry if I get anything wrong, I'm kind of new to this whole ‘being in Japan’ thing.” You gesture with your hands as you speak, using your fingers as quotation marks near the end.

Bokuto laughed lightheartedly, and his friend almost joined him. “Don't worry, you are doing okay,” he said—to your surprise—in English. It was a bit stiff, but you could understand it just fine—it was about as good as your Japanese. You turned to him, the faucet of your thoughts running out of your mouth quickly closed, and your jaw hung open. “My name is Akaashi Keiji. You can just call me Akaashi,” he added.

For some reason, his words seemed to hit you right in the chest. Maybe it was because he went through the effort to say them in your own language, or maybe it was because you were still emotional and unsure of how living in Japan would go. A couple of subtle deep breaths were enough to stop the tears threatening to well.

“My name is Y/n– I mean, L/n Y/n,” you replied, making sure to correct yourself. “Please just call me Y/n, I'd feel weird being called by my last name.” You held out your hand with a hopeful smile, shaking their hands in turn. I have no idea why I just did that, you thought in reference to the handshake. That felt way too formal.

You shook your head softly at your own thoughts before continuing, “It's nice to meet you, Akaashi and… Bokuto.” You took a guess in calling him that, not entirely sure which name to use. You were already uncertain if you were being impolite, but the wide grin you got in return told you it was fine.

The whole situation went by in a blur to the point you almost had to ignore your own awkwardness, finding yourself just trying to form sentences. It somehow made you both anxious and relieved by having to focus solely on the conversation. There was no time to think about how or why the conversation was happening in the first place.

You briefly pulled out your phone, and your heart leapt in your chest when you saw the time. School would be starting in seven minutes. “Oh no, I have no idea how to get to class—” You looked between Bokuto and Akaashi, the panic of unfamiliarity rising in you once again.

When you asked if they knew the way when you mentioned your class, Bokuto piped up, “That's on the way to my class! You should totally come with me, I can show you where it is!” Before you could give any sort of answer, grabbed you by the arm and started to almost race into the building.

You had just enough time to wave at Akaashi and for him to see the flustered, stunned look on your face. He shook his head, putting his hands in his pockets and heading to class at a much more leisurely pace—he didn't bother trying to catch up. He had the sneaking suspicion that this year was about to be a very entertaining one.

Bokuto had dragged you a good while before you had managed to get him to slow down, saying you couldn't tell where you were going and needed to commit it to memory. Eventually, you had made it to your class. You found it odd that the classroom was just open with no teacher inside. You had glanced around, confused, but didn't bother asking about it.

In the time it took to get to where you needed to go, it was evident that Bokuto was fairly popular. He had loudly greeted people along the way with a shining smile and enthusiastic waves.

A feeling started to eat away at you—a guilty emotion that brewed of envy, discomfort, and something else you couldn't quite place. You were grateful that he had shown you around, but a nagging in your mind told you it was just to make up for his first impression. And seeing him so carefree and able to talk to people so casually made you infinitely more aware of your standing. The realization that he may have been that comfortable due to years of enrollment at the school didn't make you feel any better.

You now sat at the back of the class, running through the busy morning once more. You wondered mindlessly if you would ever run into Akaashi and Bokuto again as you listened to your teacher. You hadn't greeted anyone or introduced yourself; you knew you should have if you wanted to make friends, but the thought alone made you start to feel nervous.

It was too early to be coming to the conclusion that, in reality, you knew you weren't going to go out of your way to make friends, but you couldn't help it.

The bell that signaled lunch rang just out of your current sphere of focus.

And just as you started to get fully immersed into your spiraling reasoning and excuses, jogging laps in your mind with an ever-increasing speed, a voice pierced through your protective, self-destructive bubble, loud and clear.

“HEY, HEY, HEY!! Y/N!”

It would seem that you didn't have a choice on that friendship front.

Thank you for reading!! <333

- Masterlist -

< Prologue | Ch 1: Jogging Laps | Ch 2: Lunch Break >

Do not copy and/or repost!! Any likes, comments, or reblogs are appreciated, though! (c) 2024 LemurzSquad

[watchoutforthefanfics]

achievement unlocked 🔓 (part three) || Streamer AU! Reddie (IT)

Part 1, 2

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration: this prompt

Summary: Richie liked to play video games, and by some stroke of luck, it became his job. Being primarily known as Trashmouth on stream, he found his own little group of streamer friends and they became intertwined: The Losers Club. It never did feel quite complete, though. Well, until, he got his very own backseat gamer in chat.

TWs: internet stalking, innuendos, lots of talk of sex (it's Richie), vague mention of one night stands, low self-worth, a little angst, loneliness, imposter syndrome, cursing, and shameless flirting.

[[A/N: Enjoy :))]]

Richie was not delusional. Stupid, yeah. But delusional? If anything, he was oblivious.

If someone was into him, he knew fuck all about it.

That being said, what he was doing now was not delusional. It was stupid. And Richie knew that just to clarify.

He was up too late again, and he'd say he was bored. But he was mostly kind of curious.

Sometimes he stayed up scrolling through his Instagram feed, usually sort of wistfully. He scrolled through a lot of the couples tags, mostly because he hated himself. And then he had a thought, a spare thought.

of course you are fuckface

Right. That happened.

He shouldn't be as affected by it as he is, but he guesses he can't control that. And so maybe he had the thought: are you handsome, Eds?

You know, it feels better when it's from someone fucking hot, right? So, he got curious. And Richie did stupid shit when he got curious.

With unsteady hands he went to his page, a public one (although, if he dug, he was pretty sure he'd find an old one), and simply clicked on his followers. That was the thing about Instagram, you could search through your followers. Which in retrospect, felt a little creepy.

And conveniently, he had his username. Or well, he wasn't so sure of the last name but he remembers the 'ka'. Or maybe that wasn't his last name-

"Beep, beep, Richie," he muttered to himself, before clicking the bar and typing.

'Eddie'

Naturally, there were a lot of Eddies that followed him. He wasn't exactly unpopular on Instagram, although, he was a lot more popular on Twitch.

Social media kind of went hand-in-hand, Richie learned. If somebody followed you on Twitch, they might want to follow you on Instagram, if they follow you on Instagram, they might want to subscribe to you on Youtube-

Focus, Richie, he cleared his mind and started typing again.

'Eddie Ka'

eddie.bellie || ✨️fairy dust✨️ Bell

eddie.kal || Kalee is here

e.kaspbrak || Eddie Kaspbrak

Richie blinked, That one. I recognize that name. Before he could think about it too much, he clicked through to the profile.

Eddie Kaspbrak (he/him)

I like cars 🚘 and know what I'm talking about so you better fucking listen NY 21

Follow back || Message || +👤

Richie's eyes moved ahead of his judgment, as he spotted a photo of him. Or what he could guess to be, it was kind of small but Richie could see it was a guy.

Before he could overthink it, he pressed the post.

His heart halted in his chest.

What the fuck, his brain chanted, he's beautiful what the fuck-

Eddie (or what he assumed to be Eddie) was grinning, the kind that crinkled at his eyes and shriveled up his nose. Richie wondered if he always smiled like that, or if this was special. His eyes slid across the bridge of his nose, spotting fucking freckles of all things, freckles-

He felt a little like he might spontaneously combust. Maybe in a fiery flame.

He thought I was handsome? Him? Holy shit-

Richie paused, flickering through the comments, and eyes landing on one in particular. Two, actually.

mike.me.up✔️: so good to see you happy man ❤️

benny.boy.official✔️: just remember you deserve everything good !!!

What the fuck? He thought to himself, How old is this post?

Checking the date, he recognized it to be about a year ago. In doing so, though, his eyes caught on the caption and he faltered slightly.

"To all those people who said I couldn't do it," he read, carefully, "-fuck you. Look at me now."

Richie bit at his lip, his finger swiped to the next one on the post. It was him again, carefully holding what looked to be a milkshake; if Richie looked closely enough, he thought he might be at a diner. He wasn't smiling as big this time, but more preoccupied with something else -entranced. Richie felt a little like he was floating then. Had he ever seen someone so beautiful in his entire life?

Speaking of, when had he ever called someone fucking beautiful? God, he was so fucked.

Before he could stop it, he was scrolling through his entire feed. He'd gotten off mostly without a hitch, just until he was looking at the most recent one.

It was Eddie again, but he was working on a car. Smudges of oil slipped across his face (he really looked like he hated it), and in those cute jumpsuits that mechanics wore, Richie felt a little confused about whether it was hot or cute. He was thinking maybe both.

He's not entirely sure how it happened, but he thinks he thought the newest post might be a carousel. (Where there is more than one picture.) Well, it decidedly was not. And when he tried to flick through them, his phone decided to register it as a double tap.

Richie blinked, once and then twice. Pink heart filling his thoughts while the entirety of his brain flatlined.

"Shit," he suddenly chimed, pushing himself off the bed slightly in panic, "-shit, shit, shit. I just have to-"

He clicked the heart again, and the like promptly disappeared. Richie let out a heavy sigh of relief and threw himself back on the bed. Fucking stupid.

It was probably quick enough Eddie wouldn't even notice it. There's nothing to worry about, yeah. (At least that's what he'll tell himself.)

It was, what, 6 am in New York right now? What self-respecting human being would be up at 6 am-

One message request from e.kaspbrak

Shit.

Richie stared at it for a few seconds.

Maybe like he'd blink and it would go away. He could totally be hallucinating, absolutely. Doesn't lack of sleep do that to you? Or maybe he could just be a dick and not look? There's a lot of message requests that he has, half from bots and half from fans (some weirder than others, let's be honest). He could just say he missed it? Maybe? He didn't owe it to Eddie to respond.

Something was crawling up his throat though, that picture running through his mind. And that message. God, he was just a subscriber, why the fuck was he like this? He'd definitely have to tell this to Steve (his therapist)-

Fluidly, Richie went to his messages. He skimmed some new ones in his primary (mostly friends sending him memes or his mods checking in). And then, with a breath, he clicked on requests.

e.kaspbrak

What the fuck

He laughed, mostly because it seemed really in character for what he knew of Eddie. Which, in retrospect, was not much. Enough to apparently make him curious though. Something swirled in him that the man messaging him was the same in the picture -fucking beautiful. Of all ways to describe someone, that's what his brain settled on. God, he really was gay-

Richie debated a few answers for a moment. His mind spiraling, anxiety twisting his stomach so violently that he might throw up. Will probably throw up, actually, he did that a lot when he was nervous-

e.kaspbrak

Aren't you in California?

What are you doing up at 3 am?

Okay, that was not the thing he expected him to comment on first. But, turns out, Eddie was full of surprises.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

what are u doing up at 6 am spaghetti

no one wakes up that early

e.kaspbrak

All types of people get up at 6 am dipshit.

You ever heard of a job?

He laughed again and realized he was really fucked up for thinking someone berating him was funny. But then, he got kind of curious. Eddie knew stuff about him. And he kinda... wanted to know things about Eddie. Pathetically.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

u have a job eds ??? r u a chef?

bc spaghetti, u get it?

e.kaspbrak

Are you seriously sticking to that one? Fucking spaghetti?

You're a dumbass.

And yeah of course I pay to watch your dumbass, don't I?

He pursed his lips a second, did he not want to tell him? Even still, he waited a second, watching the bubble for a moment.

e.kaspbrak

I'm a barista.

I fucking hate it.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

awe eds in a cute lil apron

i used to work customer service it was hell

And then he paused, thinking. Richie carefully added to the message something more genuine like he was testing the waters. Seeing what he could get away with, without seeming like a creep.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

what do u wanna be ?

if u could choose

There was a pause, and suddenly Richie felt incredibly stupid. What the fuck was he doing? Texting someone in chat? Because they called him handsome? Well, he was funny. So, he probably added that to the motivation too.

He had no idea why he was even here, doing this. It just felt... He felt fucking pulled in, and he got curious. But maybe he really was just being stupid-

e.kaspbrak

A mechanic.

And the apron isn't cute, it's nasty as shit after every shift.

His fingers moved before he could stop them. He really was never good at controlling himself, ever.

trashmouth.tozier✔️

who said it was the apron spaghetti ? 😉

Richie stared at the sent message for too long. Maybe hating himself a little bit more, because he was too much. And he couldn't always reel himself back-

e.kaspbrak

You did dipshit. Do you have the memory of a fucking goldfish?

That would actually explain a lot in your streams.

Richie paused -waiting for the other shoe to drop.

e.kaspbrak

And thanks.

You would make a good Eric. Even if you think you wouldn't, fuckwad.

Okay, he thought to himself -maybe grinning a little, not too much. Something unfurling in his chest that felt put away a long fucking time ago. (Maybe a few years, but that was nearly as dramatic enough for Richie Tozier.)

He smiled, maybe a little cheesily bright but that was between him and his apartment walls.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

thanks eds

and i do

it's called adhd

And then he paused.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

and i think you would make a good mechanic

e.kaspbrak

How? You probably don't even know shit about cars.

Do you even remember to change your oil?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

u are supposed to change that ?

Richie watched as the bubble started up, almost immediately. It made him laugh a little.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

just kidding spaghetti

relax

e.kaspbrak

You're such a shithead.

And don't call me that.

trashmouth.tozier✔️

yeah uh no

that's sticking sorry eds

e.kaspbrak

Fuck you dickweed.

And Richie laughed again. Alone, in his apartment, at 3 am. He laughed at a guy in his Instagram DMs.

God, he was so fucked.

e.kaspbrak

It's almost 4 am in California right now.

You need to go to fucking sleep.

Do you know how much not sleeping fucks you up?

It can literally fuck up your brain function and you can't fucking afford that. Yours barely functions as is.

Richie laughed again, and he was kind of thankful nobody lived with him for once. How was he supposed to explain himself? He had no fucking clue.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

awe spaghetti cares about me 🥺

and my brain 🥺

e.kaspbrak

Fuck you.

Go to sleep.

There was a pause, and he thought for a second he might leave it there.

e.kaspbrak

See you at your stream when you wake up.

Something in him softened, and maybe for once he was excited to sleep. His brain felt a little quieter, more manageable.

He wasn't too much for Eddie. At least for now.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

yeah okay eds

see ya then

And if he slept the best he had in awhile that night, that was only for him to know.

They kept texting for about a week, and just like he said, Eddie was a substantial (he should note) part of his next few streams. Today was his break day though, and he would be lying if he wasn't staring at his phone on the charger. Waiting for it to ding.

Which was a little pathetic, but Richie was okay with it somehow.

And then, it dinged.

Richie almost tripped himself to grab his phone off the charger. And he was glad in that moment that no one was there to see it.

e.kaspbrak

I'm working with my least favorite coworker. I wish I was fucking dead.

I hate her more than I hate you, and that's saying something.

Richie laughed a little, and let himself ruminate. Or maybe he just didn't want to look desperate. It was all kind of the same, anyway.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

u want me to come and tell her she makes shit coffee ?

pull my famous card ???

and what did she do ?

e.kaspbrak

You're such a dick.

Richie hoped he was laughing. Sometimes he thought he might be.

e.kaspbrak

She just won't leave me the fuck alone.

If she puts her hands on my arm one more time, I'm going to bite her head off.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

pretty sure that's called workplace harassment eds

u should go to ur manager

And something in Richie made him type more, even though, he really could have left it there. And he probably should have. But he was fucking curious.

Fuck his brain.

trashmouth.tozier✔️

and just call up ur gf

tell her that u need saving

eds the damsel in distress ✨️🧚‍♀️

He gnawed at his lip, fingers dancing along his sheet. He almost threw his phone back onto his chest, or maybe against the wall-

e.kaspbrak

boyfriend*

And I'm single dipshit. Why would I be texting you if I wasn't?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

oh

Richie felt something in his chest flutter. Like a fucking schoolgirl watching her crush play in a football game. If he had a little less dignity (and it wasn't fucking insane in the mornings), he would twirl his hair and kick his feet.

Fucking focus, trashmouth.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

welcome to the club eds

e.kaspbrak

You're single?

Richie pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

yeah ?

have u ever seen a bf on my streams ?

e.kaspbrak

I just thought you had one off camera.

Or something.

He paused a second. That text somehow read as embarrassed or maybe... awkward. Richie wasn't sure how to read it.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

well i don't

e.kaspbrak

Well, me neither.

Richie's heart halted in his chest for a second.

e.kaspbrak

Obviously, because she won't stop bothering me.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

just tell her u do

or tell her ur gay

e.kaspbrak

How is that her business?

And I can't just lie dipshit.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

it's not fair point

and why not ?

e.kaspbrak

She'll ask me questions.

And I'm shit at lying.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

let me do it for u

i did it for 18 years baby it's foolproof

e.kaspbrak

How the fuck are you going to do that?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

just spit out a person for u

i will give u all the details and u can just recite them

no thoughts needed spaghetti

e.kaspbrak

You can just make up a person?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

uh yeah

i used to do skits when i was like 12

by myself

e.kaspbrak

I would pay fucking good money to see some of those.

But okay. Give me your weird fake person.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

jamie porter

in tech school for IT shit

only child

really introverted bc constantly studying

likes jazz and the color blue

u go on classical concert dates sometimes

e.kaspbrak

What the fuck

That's not my type at all.

He honestly debated asking exactly what that was but he held back. Because, technically, Eddie knew his type. Which was exactly him. That... shit, he never thought about that.

He cleared his throat.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

why would it be ?

he's not real eds

it's just for a lie

e.kaspbrak

Can I just tell you my type fuckface?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

why

e.kaspbrak

Because I want to dipshit.

And I already know yours, it's only fair.

Richie felt a little stupid. And a little confused.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

okay spaghetti whatever u say

e.kaspbrak

Tall idiots. Very tall, and very fucking stupid.

[downtoncoquetteroach]

Summary: Reader and Fred are confused about last night, reader is a little bit too sensitive but she encounters the right person to hang out with. Neville deserves a personality so I gave him one, hope you like it.

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Fem reader

Fred Weasley x Fem reader

Notes:

This ended up being way longer than what I thought, sorry but I love slow burn. No smut this time just fluff and angst.

Also no Fred, just a lazy autumn Sunday.

TW: self harm, anxiety, self deprecating reader. Also not encouraging marihuana use. They wore ugly sweaters the hole time.

Words account: 2,302

Chapter One

You can also find this work on AO3 ✨

Chapter Two:

Secrets under the covers 🌼🪄

Y/n woke up at 5am not knowing what had happened, why was she half dressed half naked? A random blanket covering her, bed messy...HOLY FUCK DID SHE? Godric's beard, she did, didn't she? The muscular pain she was feeling confirmed everything.

She dressed herself before pulling the curtains and with a lot of effort, managed to get in the loo without waking up her dormates. She looked at herself in the mirror through the darkness. She saw herself confused, a mess, in and out. What happened after...? Did she just fall asleep?. Obviously Fred couldn't stay so, no reason to freak out about it, he wasn't there and that was not a bad thing, just a normal reaction to her falling asleep after giving him her virginity. Y/n decided to clean her tears and wash herself a little before coming back to bed, where she revolved, overthinking until the sun was up.

It was a Sunday so it was a relief that she didn't have to go to classes and face him in front of everyone in the great hall, that would have been a bit to fucking much given the fact that she didn't knew the state of their now relationship (?) She obviously expected him to make the first move, her dignity didn't allow her to do anything else. So she waited in her dorm for him to come and say good morning or check on her, but it was almost noon and her stomach was the only thing demanding attention. Now y/n wasn't only hurt, but starving.

Fred was awfully quiet the whole morning, internally suffering some blockage, ignoring everything and everyone around and only reacting vaguely to Lee and George. They assumed it was just a hangover but after breakfast they confronted him.

Did someone nicked your wand brother? You are acting like Hagrid's slugs after a class with Malfoy.

No, I dunno, I reckon I did something awfully stupid last night

What was it? You said no more sneaking into Snape's den by yourself

No! It's not that, it's just-

Fred's heart stopped, Y/n was coming out of the great hall, walking without any direction, slowly, lost in her own thoughts, getting dreadfully close to their spot on the grass. George followed his twin gaze and immediately knew.

No you didn't

Shut Up

You knob head! What did you do to her? She's literally an angel and you knew she was in love with you, you said you weren't ready

Shut it George!

Fred was literally screaming in whispers and that caught y/n's attention, their eyes locked for some seconds but then she turned away visibly pissed.

George hit Fred on the head.

You, me, quidditch pitch NOW!

Y/N was swallowing her tears, she couldn't let anyone seeing her like this, they would know she was a fool. An easy one. She was feeling extremely self conscious, she was ugly and naive and boring and stupid. Fred's expression was tattooed on her brain, the feeling that she wasn't wanted, ugh. Loud evil thoughts screaming all of her flaws, everyone's eyes were on her, she was painfully digging her nails on her hand to prevent public crying when she ran into on Neville.

Oh h- hi Y/n, how's your day?

She looked at his eyes, not knowing what to say, and started crying.

Blimey, y/n did I hurt you? Wanna go to Madame Pomfrey? I can carry you if you need me to! Please don't cry I didn't mean it! I'm sorry!

Neville was freaking out, his tender words making her cry even harder, all of the things she wanted Fred to say were coming out from Neville's mouth as if he knew exactly what she needed. It was ridiculous. This whole situation was rubbish.

Nev, no! It's not you, I'm sorry, its fine. I'm fine.

Y-you don't look fine. Sorry I mean

yeah I know, it's just complicated.

They stood in silence for a moment, finally Neville got an idea.

C-come with me, I'll show you something.

Y/n was cleaning her tears with her sleeve. Considering Neville's proposition. She didn't wanted to be alone on the dorm again or worse, at the common room, so she agreed.

Neville guided her to the most predictable of all places at Hogwarts: the greenhouse. She hided a smile, it was such a Neville move to assume some plants would make her feel better. She appreciated the gesture tho, he could have just ignore her or mock and leave. But she knew Neville was not that kind of guy. However, she was wrong about him, he hadn't just took her to see some weird plants moving, they were in a hidden corner of the greenhouse, looking at a blanket behind a table full of dirt and seeds.

What are we supposed to...

Shhh

Neville crouched and removed the blanket with great care and 3 small kitties appeared inside a box.

Y/n died of tenderness, to Neville's satisfaction she looked so much better than before, her energy totally shifted while she carefully tried to got closer to the sleeping creatures. They had been born 2 weeks earlier in the greenhouse, their mom sadly didn't make it through so Professor Sprout and him had been looking out for the baby's.

He sat on the ground and made a space for y/n, she followed and beamed on the little fellows.

She looked like a totally different person now, it was one of his favorite things to see. People could change so much according to their emotions, they could be totally different persons through the day, so he always had to check on them before interacting. Something inside him told him that he could trust her so, he took out his tiny can and started to roll up.

Y/n was mesmerized, she loved cats so much and had always wanted one of her own but her mother was totally against it. It took her a few minutes to look away and noticed what Neville was doing. She was shocked.

I- if it makes you feel uncomfortable I can save it for later.

She couldn't say a word. Neville was about to put his stash away when she forced herself to speak

N-No! Uhm, it's ok it's just, I never thought you-

Its just a plant, I look it up! Compared to some day use potions it's harmless you know.

I know, I've tried some back home with my childhood friends, it's just that it's kinda illegal for muggles, and very rebellious of you.

Neville laughed, he was way more confident than ever, y/n couldn't believe it, he seemed like a whole different guy. "It's always the quiet ones" her grandma has said. She watched him concentrated in the task, effortlessly rolling a joint with his long delicate fingers, such a beautiful hands made her think of Fred. Damn, remembering so suddenly only made things worst, his face while he looked at her half hour ago made her stomach turn in the worst way. Well not the worst at least it wasn't diarrhea...

Neville noticed her vibe changing, her face holding a weird expression.

Do you want to talk about it?

She stared at him, pulling her out of her dumb thoughts. How did he knew?

Are you some sort of legilimency master or something?

He just smiled

Neville Longbottom was a year younger than y/n. They were very cordial on each other, not precisely friends because he wasn't at any of her classes but, she had always had a soft spot for him, because of his family tragedy and the struggle's he had at school. He often forgot about the password to get in the common room so she was always checking on him so he wouldn't be out for too long. She hated people bullying him.

He stopped smiling and rolling, locked his gaze on her and said something that felt like a dash of cold water

You know, I saw what happened last night.

Y/n couldn't hide her disturbance, her lips parted a little bit while he carefully continued

I mean, I saw Fred following you after you left the couch, did he did something to you?

Y/n was still trying to process the sudden revelation, she felt so embarrassed, of course someone watched, probably everyone knew by now, she was feeling hot, shame crawling over her skin, about to dig her nails on her skin to prevent crying again when he put his hand on her's

I- It's ok, I didn't mean to intrude, it's just... even if I like Fred, even if he is someone I look up for, If he hurt you or anything I'll

No! He didn't, don't worry, Im fine, really.

Uhm, ok, you sure?

Yeah, sure Neville, who would have guessed you'll be such a knight on a horse, look at you, hiding all of these personality traits.

Y/n was used to mask her emotions quite well, at least most of the time and even if he make her feel safe, she didn't wanted to spoil the moment by ranting about Fred's horrid actions. She wanted to have some fun, and a spliff with Longbottom was something to tell the kids.

He observed her for a moment and carried on, getting the shit done once and for all.

After some smokes away from the kitties they got back to their sits besides them. Neville had turned on the old record player and after some minutes, a whimsical song started playing with a female voice filling the air. The greenhouse felt like it was coming more alive, the golden light of the autumn sun falling through the glass. Neville was smiling, y/n had her eyes full of sweet dreamy light, the sun hitting perfectly on them while she saw all of the things he loved revealing themselves for her for the first time.

He had always thought that there was some sort of unnamed magic on sharing the things that you loved with someone else.

You know y/n, I'm sure that one of the reasons we are alive is to be understood.

Y/n turned her head away from him and started shaking violently, hands on her face, not a sound coming out.

Hey what's wrong!

Neville was trying to pull her hands out of her face to see if she was choking or something but then she finally managed to laugh out loud and roll on the floor

Ugh, though you were dying or something

She laughed harder

"You can go on your own way" as he said, Neville exclaimed.

Y/n was still trying to recover but put some attention to the song

I don't want to shaking up you know, I wanted him to be my boyfriend, not just fucked him

Neville's face went full red

So, I'm truly the last virgin on Hogwarts? Cheers.

Oh no Neville don't say that, there are first years that haven't -

Neville laughed

Shut it you damn creep

They fall in silent again, and some fierce song filled the room.

Damn Neville that's good, what is it?

Fleetwood Mac, it's American.

I had never ever heard of them, are they new?

Nah

How did you came to have such a gourmet taste in music?

Ahm, this is my mother's, she kinda lent it to me.

Y/n felt silent, the weight of Neville's words falling over her, she knew what had happened to Neville's parents, she found out one day from professor McGonagall talking to Madam Rosmerta on the Three broomstick s. Y/n had felt so much sorrow for it all.

Neville felt the need to fill the silent

L-last nights record was mine too you know, Andromeda Black send it to my mother as a gift some years ago.

Oh wow, really?

Yeah, she's like a muggle record dealer for wizards with strange interests.

Y/n was lying on the floor looking at the clouds through the ceiling windows. Neville was such a bad ass behind the scenes, he was probably the coolest kid in the whole school

How can you be so cool? You are not even trying, it's so not fair Longbottom.

He felt a twist inside his stomach, cheeks wildly blushing. One of the things he liked the most from y/n was that she always said the things she thought about people to their faces, specially compliments, must of the people would be embarrassed to say such nice things to others, scared of what they could interpret, but not y/n. She was brave and sweet at the same time.

It started to get dark, they were really hungry, exhausted from all the laughter.

Ugh I'm so hungry but I don't want to go and have dinner with all of the Gryffindor's. I'm usually with them and everyone will notice me not talking to them.

Neville had an idea.

Why don't you go to my room and wait, I'll bring us dinner.

Really? Would you do that?

Sure

Neville stood and helped Y/n who had sleeping legs, he made her run and the laughed all the way up to the castle.

They had a great dinner, never shutting up about their favorite desserts, records and bands, the fact that Neville didn't knew that much about muggle concerts or y/n didn't knew about the wizard's society because she was a muggle born.

They pulled the curtains and made a silence spell to avoid Ron and the others, prolonging their now sleepover.

They were awfully comfortable, a weird feeling of belonging pulling them. They felt like they had known each other all their lives. They fell asleep while they shared secrets under the covers.