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sunflowerhyun · 3 months ago

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how he sees me | hwang hyunjin | part two

ᝰ summary: “Do you love me?” she asked.

In his hesitation, she found her answer.

OR, alternatively, Hyunjin is a little bit of an asshole and Y/N just misses him.

ᝰ pairing: hwang hyunjin x fem!reader

ᝰ genre: ex-childhood-friends-to-lovers, punk!hyunjin au

ᝰ warnings: ! MDNI ! cursing, many references to past situations (in italics), alcohol consumption, angst, themes of depression, slight smut (?) consisting of making-out and brief grinding

ᝰ wc: 8k+

ᝰ a/n: it’s 4am and the long awaited part two is finally here!!! this part is a little heavy on y/n’s emotions, and very angst-y (i’m sorry in advance). i hope you all enjoy it just as much as i did writing it ♡

ᝰ reference the masterlist here.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The first time Y/N met Hyunjin was in elementary school and she remembered every detail.

It was at the beginning of their math class, when Y/N was just starting the third grade. She remembers how excited she was to be in a new school, hair up in pig-tails, flower dress on. She was so giddy that she didn’t even mind sitting in the front by herself, happily swinging her feet in her chair as she colored on her notebook before class started. She was so giddy that she didn’t even notice when her teacher, Mrs. Anderson, had walked in with a little boy, standing beside her with his hands clutching his scooby doo lunch box.

He was dressed in a nice blue button up and khakis, cheeks chubby with a slight pinkness to them. His hair was nicely cut and slicked back at the top; he looked like a proper little boy, which is exactly what he was.

Mrs. Anderson started talking, to introduce the new student as Hyunjin from South Korea, and Y/N immediately felt even more giddy.

He had enthusiastically introduced himself and Mrs. Anderson told him to sit wherever he wanted. Y/N pouted slightly at this, knowing he would choose a seat next to someone else, as nobody ever wanted to share a desk with her if they could help it. Her eyes widened slightly whenever he had threw his lunch box on the desk beside hers, and she looked up in surprise, seeing a sly grin take over his lips as he sat down.

“Hi.” He spoke, side-eyeing her as he took out his own notebook and a pencil.

“Hi, Hyunjin. My name is Y/N!” She excitedly grinned, and Hyunjin faced her. He gave her a quick glance from head-to-toe, a grin forming on his lips as he let out a, “Hi, Y/N. You remind me of a flower. Do you like flowers? My favorite ones are roses. My nanny says they are a symbol of love, but I have no idea what that means. Do you like roses, too?”

The talking continued all until lunch, when Hyunjin had sat with her at the lunch table in the cafeteria. He was eating some dumplings, while Y/N was eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She had asked them if they were good, and he started feeding her bites of his. In return, she halved her sandwich and shared it with him.

In between bites and giggles, Y/N had quickly found out that Hyunjin liked to talk. He talked and he talked until school was dismissed, where he was forced to leave her side for the day.

“We are going to be the best of friends!” Hyunjin had spoke as he stood up after the teachers called out his name, indicating his ride was here to pick him up.

“Pinky promise?” Y/N had asked, holding her pinky up in the air. He giggled at this, not hesitating to wrap his around hers with a, “I pinky promise!”

It’s funny how things turn out, isn’t it?

Pinky promises were just full of shit. Y/N knew that, and yet she still made them anyway. And out of the many that she has made, it only took one broken promise to completely change everything; it only took one broken promise from him to completely change everything.

Y/N had grown up with him, had spent every single second of her free time with him amongst the stars and the skies and whatever else. He was there when she had her first period, standing at her front door with a box of pads and some chocolate milk his nanny had bought for him to give her after she had ignored him for two days and yelled at him for stepping on the back of her shoes at recess. He was there when she had gotten her first job as a waitress at a café up the street, being her first customer and tipping her $50 for a simple cup of coffee and a bagel, just because he knew she was struggling with money. He was there when her grandma had passed away from breast cancer after a long two years of fighting, laying with her for hours in the pitch black dark and silence, holding her while she cried in his chest.

Y/N remembered every detail of their friendship, whether it be the good or the bad, but what she remembered most was the little things that he never saw in himself.

Whenever he smiled, his eyes would form little crescents and his laugh would sound like her favorite song. He always tilted his head back whenever he would laugh at something stupid, and Y/N hated when he did that because everything went dull and dark. But whenever he looked back at her, the light would return as quickly as it faded and the universe would spin again.

Whenever he was anxious about something, his foot would bounce up and down repeatedly. Y/N would always have to put her hand on the top of his thigh to remind him to calm down, and she remembered the look on his face each time. His cheeks would redden slightly, a sheepish smile on his lips, and he would mumble out a soft apology. Everytime she moved her hand away, he would put it back, insisting that the only way he wouldn’t move his foot was if her hand stayed there.

He was the happiest when he was painting. Y/N loved to watch him paint.

He started painting in middle school, when they were both thirteen. He had decided to take art as one of his electives and easily succeeded in it. It came so naturally to him, just as everything did, and Y/N had wished more times than once that she could have that ability to be perfect in every single thing she did.

When he was younger, Hyunjin painted flowers. Roses were his favorites, so naturally, that was what he started with. Y/N remembered watching him paint whenever she came over, laying on his bed with her iPad in front of her while he sat at his desk with a picture of roses pulled up on his laptop. His eyes had a different twinkle in them while he was focused on the colors and the shapes, and his tongue would stick out slightly on the side of his mouth in concentration. She was always so mesmerized by him and would watch him for hours without complaint. The look on his face once he finished always made up for the long wait—the excited glint in his eyes, the higher-pitched voice he had when he turned around to show her, the wide smile that always reached his eyes, the warmth on his cheeks.

He was falling in love with art, while she was falling in love with him.

Coming to that realization as they got older became difficult for Y/N to grasp. In a way, she knew that she had always loved him. The little things that defined him as his own person clouded her mind for years, slipping into her dreams while she yearned for it to become a reality. He was always her Hyunjin, and she was always his Y/N.

And she hated the fact that she was still wanting to believe that.

“You’re not going tomorrow.”

Y/N didn’t move from her current spot in her bed, hidden under the covers, arms wrapped around her body and pulling herself together. Everything was dark, just as she wanted it to be, tears and make-up staining the pillow case she was laying her head on. Felix had finally gotten her out of the bathroom at the club, wrapping her in his arms and leading her outside to Minho’s car without making a scene. Majority of the people there were too preoccupied anyway, much to Y/N’s relief.

Minho had insisted on coming back with them, just to make sure they got home safely, much to Y/N’s protests. She begged for him to stay with his friends and not worry about her, but he wasn’t taking no for an answer. She already felt extremely embarrassed at the fact that she had made a scene outside, in front of Chan and his bandmates, in front of Minho and Felix, in front of Hyunjin.

Her Hyunjin.

“Are you even listening to me? Look, I really hate to be that friend, but you are not going to that festival tomorrow. It’s only going to satisfy him in such a fucked up way that you’re going to be there watching him perform. It’s not good for you. You’re not going.”

“How about you stop bossing her around and let her decide what’s best for herself?” Minho’s voice chimed in.

“No offense, but you don’t know half the shit that asshole has done to her. She needs someone to talk some sense into her because I know she’s going to want to go, and it isn’t going to turn out good.” Felix scoffed out a reply, and Y/N could hear some shuffling as she felt someone sit on the edge of her bed.

“Still, it’s up to her. You shouldn’t be telling her to do something just because you think it would benefit her for the good. People cope in different ways.”

“She had a fucking panic attack from that guy!” Felix exclaimed, the bed shaking a little as he held his hands up in exaggeration. “That should say everything! And even then—“

“I’m not going,” Y/N interrupted him, snuggling deeper into her pillow. Her head was starting to hurt and she couldn’t take the constant bickering back and forth, “I’m not going, okay? Can you please just… stop talking about me like I’m not here?”

It was quiet for a moment, and then she heard a sigh.

The bed moved again, bedsheets rustling, and then she could feel a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” Felix spoke, rubbing her shoulder over the comforter, “We didn’t mean to come off that way. Do you need anything?”

“No,” She quickly replied, secretly hoping Felix would get up and leave her alone. She loved him to death, but she just wanted to be alone right now, to wallow in her self-pity a bit longer. It was quiet for another moment, and then she felt the hand on her shoulder trail down to her back.

“I’m gonna go get you some water, and then I’ll leave you alone.”

Footsteps were heard going out her bedroom door until they grew faint, and Y/N let out a sigh she didn’t know she was holding. She closed her eyes, pulling the blanket closer to her chest, when a soft voice spoke out.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

It was Minho, and Y/N could feel his presence coming closer to her. She froze for a second, forgetting that he was even still here, pulling the blanket off of her so she could see him.

“I’m sorry,” He repeated, hands twitching slightly by his side, as if he didn’t know what to do with them, “I’m so sorry. I would have never brought you there or even offered if I knew. I can’t help but feel like this is my fault. I’m just—I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

Y/N sat up, wiping underneath her eyes with her hands in attempt to get some of the mascara and eyeliner off of her face, reaching her hand out towards him. He hesitated for a moment before slowly grasping her hand in his, and Y/N smiled briefly, knowing Minho wasn’t the biggest on touch yet still let her hold him in a way.

“It’s not your fault. Exactly like you just said, you didn’t know. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just didn’t want to go through that again. And it’s a little embarrassing,” She let out a chuckle, “I’m just embarrassed right now is all. You didn’t know. Don’t blame yourself.”

“I know but still,” He replied with a sigh, “I just won’t go tomorrow either. We can all go do something else—“

“No, you’re going to go,” She interrupted him, “Chan is your best friend. You’ve been so excited about it. You’re going to go and enjoy yourself and support him. Just because he’s in the same band doesn’t mean you can’t go.”

“Well, yeah, but I’d feel weird if I—“

“Minho, you’re giving me a headache,” Y/N interrupted him, again, letting go of his hand to lay back down with a dramatic sigh.

Minho rolled his eyes, “Fine. I’ll go.”

“Go where?” Felix asked as he re-entered the room, placing the cup of ice water with a lemon slice in it on her bedside table.

“The festival.”

“Oh, you’re still going?” He asked Minho, but before he could answer, Y/N spoke up, “Yes, he’s still going. And you are, too.”

“Hell the fuck no I’m not,” Felix scoffed out, crossing his arms across his chest.

Y/N groaned in slight annoyance, “You are both getting on my nerves. Lix, you had such a good time tonight, and I could tell you really liked Chan and Changbin. I was just telling Minho this, but just because he’s a bit of an asshole, doesn’t mean you can’t go support everyone else. It’s not going to hurt my feelings, I promise. Plus, I kind of want to be alone for a bit. No offense.”

“A bit of an asshole?! More like a—“

“Lix,” Minho interrupted him with a warning glare, and Felix sighed, glancing over at Y/N who was already looking at him with a pleading expression. Rather it be the tired, broken look in her eyes or the fact that she might be right, Felix found himself caving in, sighing out a short, “Fine.”

Y/N smiled slightly, mumbling out a thank you as she curled herself back up into her comforter. She just wanted them to be happy and enjoy themselves; that’s all she wants. Plus, Minho had paid a lot for the tickets and she didn’t want them to go to waste. She decided she would Venmo him for her portion anyway once she mustered enough energy to roll over and glance at her phone.

“I guess we’ll leave you alone for a bit. It’s almost midnight so we should probably get some rest anyway since the festival starts at noon tomorrow,” Minho let out, Felix reluctantly agreeing. The same hand was felt on her shoulder again, a deep sigh carrying out through the room.

“Try to get some sleep, okay? We’ll see you in the morning before we leave.” Felix softly spoke, and Y/N nodded her head in reply, even though they couldn’t see her.

Seconds later the door quietly shut and she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Everything was now silent and dark, despite the faint sounds of Felix and Minho walking around the house, and Y/N suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness, mind drifting back to Hyunjin.

Hyunjin, and his stupid long hair and piercing brown eyes. Hyunjin, and his beautiful body that was now adorned in multiple tattoos and piercings. Hyunjin, who seemed to be a completely different person, yet still so familiar at the same time.

She rolled over, throwing the comforter off of her curled up body, sitting up on the side of the bed. Glancing at her window, she noticed the stars were out. She slowly got out of bed, pulling her dress down a little as she approached the window, the stars and the moon shining brightly, igniting a soft glow. Her hand carefully grazed the coolness of the window, a tear slowly falling down her cheek as she sunk down to the floor, nothing but Hyunjin on her mind.

——>

“Do you think we’re best friends in every universe?”

Hyunjin swiped the brush against the canvas in front of him before dipping it in the now dirty cup of water, tongue peeking out from the corner of his lip, letting out a soft hum in response. Y/N rolled over to her stomach at his response, hands underneath her chin as she faced him, canvas blocking half of his face from her view.

“Did you hear me?” She asked with a small huff, and Hyunjin glanced at her briefly before continuing his strokes on the canvas.

“Why are you asking such a random question? Obviously.” He replied with a click of his tongue and a slight eye roll.

Y/N glanced around his bedroom, eyes settling on his desk cluttered with multiple art supplies and sketches, and then at the picture of her and him at the photo booth at Chuck e. cheese hanging up on his wall. She chose her next question carefully, softly. “So you don’t think that in another universe, we could be something else?”

Hyunjin glanced at her again, and she could feel his gaze on her face, but her eyes stayed locked on the picture. “Like what?” He asked.

She shuffled a little bit in his bed, hands coming down to lay in front of her as she played with the loose thread on his comforter. “Like… two pigeons running down the beach. Or sunflowers swaying in a field,” She spoke, in thought, before leaning her head on one of her hands, “We could even be married in another life. Wouldn’t that be fun? Growing old together?”

It was quiet for a minute, the sound of birds faintly chirping outside being the only sound heard. Y/N snuck a glance at him, wishing she could see his entire expression instead of only half, gulping loudly when seeing that he looked lost in thought.

“Yeah, it would,” He finally replied, voice coming out soft, unwavering. “We are going to grow old together anyway, though. So I guess it wouldn’t matter if we were married or not.”

Y/N glanced at the picture again, the giant smiles plastered on their faces as they excitedly hugged each other. She remembered them wanting to be as close as possible to ensure they both fit in the picture from how small the booth was; being as close as possible to one another was always their thing. She wished they could get closer.

“But wouldn’t it be nice to be married to each other? And to do things married people do? To… to wake up beside each other every morning, and to cook dinner together every night, and… and…” She trailed off, cheeks heating up when realizing she was definitely speaking her inner thoughts out loud and she definitely should not finish her sentence. Her hands began to grow clammy from the slight anxiety she was feeling, and she shook her head slightly, sitting up on the edge of the bed and reaching for her iPad and bag.

“Nevermind. I don’t really know what I’m saying,” She laughed out, shoving her belongings into her bag quickly before throwing it over her shoulder. “I’m gonna head out. Mom’s making dinner. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She quickly walked past him, a soft grip on her wrist making her stop in her tracks. She looked up to see that Hyunjin had stood up, the paint brush now sitting in the cup, his expression soft. “It would be nice,” He let out, and Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, “We already do those things, anyway. But you know you’re the only person I’d want to do it with. You’re my best friend.”

Best friend. Right. They are best friends, and that’s all it would ever be.

“Yeah,” She replied, eyes trailing down to the plush of his lips. The last time they kissed was when they had their second make out session in the back seat of his car after he finished soccer practice two weeks ago. Her cheeks started to heat up at the memory, and she found herself biting her bottom lip slightly when remembering the sound he made whenever she accidentally pressed down too hard on his lap.

Hyunjin noticed, finding himself doing the same as his teeth sunk into his lower lip, the grip on her wrist tightening slightly. Nothing was said for a minute, the tension shifting in the air. And then his lips were on hers for the third time.

Y/N doesn’t know who initiated it first, but she didn’t care. The bag that was on her shoulder fell to the floor with a soft thud and his hands were cupping her face. She put hers on his shoulders, trailing them up and down, not exactly sure where she should put them. She just wanted to feel him in more ways than one, so she took a step forward, his knees hitting the edge of the bed as he fell on top of it. Their kiss broke, but only for a second before Y/N was climbing on top of him, a small moan escaping his lips as she kissed him again.

She was definitely feeling more confident this time. The first time her and Hyunjin had made out was sloppy, but it was amazing. The second time was rushed and hot, as Hyunjin just needed to release some steam from a shitty practice he had. But this time was desperate and so, so dangerous. It was so dangerous because she was becoming addicted and eventually it was going to kill her.

His hands gripped her thighs, and she pulled back. “W-we’re doing it again,” She stuttered out, his lips moving to her neck, making the butterflies erupt in her stomach.

“And?” He replied, hands now moving towards her ass, letting out a deep groan at the fullness in his hands. He kissed her again, slipping his tongue past her lips, and she let out a content sigh at the feeling.

“I-is this… weird to you?” She struggled to get out her sentence, rolling her head to the side to give him access to her neck instead of her lips. It’s not that she didn’t want to kiss him, she most definitely did, but she wanted to see where his head was at. Which was, unfortunately, sometimes difficult to do.

He didn’t reply, choosing to pepper her neck with kisses and slight bites, and she shifted on his lap each time, soft moans filling his room. “Jinnie,” She tried to get his attention again, gasping slightly when feeling him underneath her, a tingling sensation traveling down from her head to her toes. He buckled his hips up, and she gently pushed him down.

“What?” He asked, panting slightly, lips red and moist from their spit, and she gulped before asking her question again. Hyunjin was starring so intensely at her that it made her squirm in his lap, and he tightened his grip on her ass slightly.

“No, I don’t think it’s weird,” He replied out through breaths, eyes trailing down her body and back up to her face briefly, “We’re just best friends who sometimes make out. People do it all the time.”

Do they? Y/N thought to herself, glancing down at her thighs and away from him, an uneasy feeling growing in her chest. Hyunjin noticed her expression, moving his hands to her hips instead, rubbing them a little as an act of comfort.

“Are you uncomfortable?” He asked, a slightly concerned expression on his face, and Y/N immediately shook her head.

“Of course not! I’m always comfortable with you. It’s just… is this… okay? Are we… okay?”

His hands stopped their movements, and Y/N immediately regretted the question that just came out of her mouth. He looked as if he was lost in thought, a slight pout on his lips, and his hair was slightly falling into his eyes, looking a little unkempt, but Y/N thought he was beautiful.

“I don’t see an issue with it,” He finally replied, lightly trailing his hands up and down her thighs, a soft grin forming on his lips, “Like I said, we’re best friends who sometimes make out. We’re okay. Nothing will change that.”

Y/N woke up to her phone going off, the vibration making a screeching noise on her bedside table, eyes struggling to open from the bright sun that was currently gracing her face. She blinked a couple times, letting out an annoyed groan as she covered her eyes with her hand in attempt to block out the light from blinding her vision so early in the morning.

The first thing she noticed once she somewhat came to her senses was that she was so uncomfortable. Her back was aching and her neck was as stiff as a rock, and she turned her head to the side to notice that she was currently laying on the floor next to the window. No wonder her back felt like shit.

She cursed to herself, bringing herself up to sit on her knees, back popping and a grimace forming on her lips. She can’t believe she slept an entire night on the floor. And she didn’t even change out of her dress or take her makeup off, which is something she always does, so why did she not do it this time?

Memories from last night flooded her brain all at once, and suddenly, she wasn’t able to feel the physical pain from her back or her neck, because nothing can compare to the pain of heartbreak. The dream she had last night of her and Hyunjin was fresh in her mind, hitting her like a ton of bricks as she felt a heavy feeling in her chest. Waking up to the thought of him was not a great start to her day, but it’s not like she never stopped thinking about him anyway.

Willing herself to stand up and stop wallowing so much in her self-pity, she slowly shuffled her way towards her bathroom, turning the light on and cringing at her reflection in the mirror. She looked like a fucking wreck, with mascara running down her face in streaks, lipstick slightly smudged around her mouth, eyes puffy and red and dry. Her hair was still slicked back into the ponytail and she mentally rated the styling cream she used five stars. However, she couldn’t think about that long as the events from last night kept replaying in her mind.

“Hey Petal.”

He had called her by her nickname that he made for her when they were in middle school, when Hyunjin had gifted her a bouquet of roses after her chorus concert. It seemed fitting at the time, so naturally, the nickname stuck with her. He was the only one who called her that, and he was the only one she wanted to call her that. But last night, it didn’t seem right coming from his lips when there was so much distance between them for years. Yet, she couldn’t help the flutter in her chest when he spoke to her, despite everything.

Another vibration from her phone interrupted her thoughts and she shook her head slightly before walking to her bedside table to unplug her phone, seeing that she had multiple unread texts and two calls from Felix.

lix🐥: hey ugly

lix🐥: minho convinced me to not wake u up, but i left u some ramen if ur hungry whenever u get up. we’re heading to the festival now but i’ll text u whenever we get there

lix🐥: we’re here. it’s crowded af and my social anxiety is slowly brewing 😀 gonna get some drinks and claim us a spot. i’ll send pics l8ter

lix🐥: 1 attachment

lix🐥: me and minho are currently downing this bucket of beers rn. say a prayer for me plz. miss u

lix🐥: 2 missed calls

lix🐥: hey bubs it’s been like 3 hrs since i last texted can u tell me if ur alive at least bc im ✨worried✨

lix🐥: ///:

y/n: i’m alive. i just woke up. stop worrying about me and enjoy yourself. let me know when you’re both otw home and be safe

lix🐥: 🫡

Y/N let out a sigh, locking her phone back before throwing it on her bed. She shivered, goosebumps forming on her skin from the AC that just turned on, reminding her that she was still in her dress that was now bunched up her ass. She cringed at that fact, deciding she should take a shower and wash away the overwhelming sense of depression and desperation she was currently feeling from last night, feet shuffling against the floor as she made her way back towards the bathroom to turn the water on.

She took her time washing her hair and body before finding herself curling up on the floor of the shower, head resting against the coolness of the tile behind her as she soaked in the scalding hot water falling down her body. Hyunjin had always hated how hot she kept the water when she showered, and she found herself thinking back to one of the multiple times he had yelled at her over it.

“Are you almost done?!” Hyunjin yelled from the inside of his bedroom, laying down on his bed with his phone in his hands, “I’ve got to shower too, you know! I can only wait so long!”

Y/N rolled her eyes, choosing to ignore him as she hummed to Katy Perry’s Fireworks that was currently playing on his bluetooth speaker. She just finished shaving her legs and was currently finishing up washing her body with her designated hot pink loofah that always hung next to Hyunjin’s blue one in the shower.

“Hello?! Are you ignoring me?!” He yelled out again just as she finished rinsing off.

“I told you I would let you know when I’m done! Stop yelling and being so dramatic and wait your turn!”

She heard some shuffling, and then the bathroom door slammed open, making Y/N let out a short scream. “What are you doing?! You’re not allowed in here yet!”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes even though she couldn’t see him, reaching up to tug his shirt off and throwing it on the bathroom floor, “You’re taking too long so I’m coming in. I smell like grass and shit and it’s starting to give me a headache.”

“Like hell you are!” Y/N replied, opening the shower door slightly so she could peek her head out, a gasp threatening to escape her mouth when she caught sight of a shirtless Hyunjin who was now in the process of sliding his athletic shorts off his legs. “Are you insane?! Do not come in here! I’m literally naked!”

“No shit,” Hyunjin let out a laugh, rolling his eyes as he stepped out of his shorts, “I won’t look at you. We can just graze our butt cheeks against each other as we take turns rinsing off. This is a great way for us to up our friendship level.”

Y/N could feel her face turning red at his comment, mouth falling open in complete disbelief that he had even said that, and she found herself stuttering out a mix of words that made absolutely no sense. It was when Hyunjin reached for his briefs, about to take them off, that had her finally forming words.

“Stop!” She screeched out, a smirk of triumph forming on Hyunjin’s lips as he glanced at her, “Oh my god, you’re literally so annoying! Hand me my towel, asshole.”

Hyunjin smirked widened as he reached for the towel currently folded and sitting on the toilet seat. He unwrapped it, handing it out to her with a sickly sweet look on his face, and Y/N huffed in annoyance before jerking it out of his hands. She could hear Hyunjin singing, could picture him currently rocking back and forth on the heels of his feet as he waited for her to step out. She decided to turn the hot water up slightly out of spite before she wrapped the towel around her body, opening the door wider and stepping out of the shower.

Just as she suspected, Hyunjin was still standing there, grin still on his face. He glanced at her feet, and then back to her face, a few drops of water trailing down her neck. She glared at him, “You’re not even going to say thank you for keeping the water on for you?”

He let out a chuckle, finding himself wanting to wipe the drops of water off her neck but restrained himself, “Thanks, Pedal. You’re an angel.”

“Idiot.” She mumbled to herself, letting out a small shriek when he reached for his briefs again, quickly running out of the room and closing the bathroom door. She could hear Hyunjin laughing on the other side and wanted to yell at him to shut up but decided against it.

She began drying herself off when she heard him scream, giggling to herself as she knew what he was screaming about, pulling her shirt over her head. “Seriously, Y/N?! You’ve just scalded my dick over here!”

She laughed to herself, a pleasing smile on her face as she continued to get dressed. “You’re not going to even say anything?! You keep the water way too hot! No wonder your skin is always so red!”

“Shut up and shower! You smell like shit!” She yelled back, thankful that nobody was home to hear them basically cussing each other out.

Suddenly, a loud bang was heard, a long groan following shortly after. Y/N turned her head towards the bathroom, immediately rushing in to see Hyunjin’s silhouette laying on shower floor.

“Oh my god, Jinnie!” She yelled out, “Are you okay? Did you just fall?”

She opened the shower door slightly to get a glimpse of him just to make sure he was okay, letting out the loudest scoff when seeing a smirk on his face, a satisfied hum escaping his lips. “Now if you wanted to see me naked all you had to do was ask, Pedal.”

“Shut up, idiot!” She replied, quickly shutting the door back, face flushing even more when he began laughing like the little menace he is. She decided she was going to turn the water even hotter next time.

The urge to cry again was strong, but she was sick of crying; she was sick of feeling this way, so she told herself she wasn’t going to cry anymore. That mindset didn’t last long, however, as she eventually felt her eyes tearing up.

Hyunjin was always in the back of her mind someway or another, but now that she had seen him in the flesh after so many years, she didn’t know what to think. She had spent months attempting to reach out once he had left, attempting to even ask his own parents where he had gone, and got nothing in return. Eventually, the texts went from blue to green, and her heart went from broken to completely shattered.

Hyunjin had always wanted to be an artist. He loved to create art, through paint or pencils or dance. He was always creative and told his own stories in more subtle ways, always full of light despite the lingering darkness that always found a way back to him. Y/N had noticed more times than once that he would put on an act at times, knowing how much he despised his parents, knowing that he hated living at home. She knew he wanted to leave, but she didn’t think he would leave without her. And then he leaves, disappears for years, and now suddenly shows back up as the lead singer of a band? Hyunjin had always wanted to be an artist, so it didn’t make any sense to her. None of it made sense to her.

She grew annoyed at the fact that she was crying again, harshly wiping her tears from her face. She wanted to scream, wanted to claw her skin off her body; she hated feeling this way, and she hated the way her heart was reacting. She should be angry, completely and utterly repulsed at the thought of seeing Hyunjin after the shit he has put her through. But she isn’t, and she hates herself for it.

She just missed him. She missed him so much.

Y/N doesn’t know how long she stayed sitting in the shower, but it was long enough to where the hot water ran out and her skin turned wrinkly. She felt numb to the coldness of the water, not even flinching when feeling it falling down on her, suffocating her. Right now, she wished it would. It would be so much easier.

Y/N thought about seeing a therapist for the longest time after Hyunjin had left her. It wasn’t until her breakdown with Felix that had her solidifying the fact that she definitely needed to talk to someone, as it was now interfering with her intimacy with other people. Felix had befriended her and guided her to get the help she needed, and she would forever be grateful for that. She was getting better, had graduated university in the top 10% of her class, got herself a job working in the ICU at one of the top hospital’s in the state, and had made new friends and memories. She was getting better until she saw him, and now it feels like it’s back to square one.

She thought of Hyunjin and the many pinky promises he had made with her. She thought of Hyunjin and the way he always made her feel safe. She thought of Hyunjin and his tattoos and piercings and long hair that covered his eyes so elegantly. She thought of the smirk on his lips, the fire his touch left on her skin, and she became angry. How dare he just show up again like this after years and pretend nothing had even happened?She was pissed at the thought of him acting so nonchalant, so unbothered, while she had spent years crying and praying for him to come back to her somehow.

It was uncanny, really—a fever dream. And she’ll be damned if she lets him get away again so easily.

She turned the shower off, a sudden coolness gracing her skin as she stepped out of the shower. She didn’t even bother wrapping herself up in a towel, leaving a trail of water as she rushed back into her bedroom, clicking on Felix’s location. After all, she did still have the ticket saved on her phone, and she didn’t want it to go to waste.

y/n: changed my mind, i’ve decided to come. i’ll be there soon

——>

It was excruciatingly hot.

Y/N was stood in line to get a drink, (liquid courage, of course), and she could just practically feel the sweat dripping down her back and into her skirt. The thought made her cringe but she had been in line for about thirty minutes now and it was almost her turn, so she had to tough it out. It’s insane how hot it was even at 1600, but luckily, the sun would be going down soon.

She sighed, pushing the sunglasses she was wearing further up her nose, glancing over to see a girl wearing a black crop top with Stray Kids engraved across her breasts in red.

“You’re here for Stray Kids, I’m assuming?” She let out without thinking, the girl turning to look at her, placing a hand on her forehead in attempts to block the sun from her eyes.

“Hell yeah! They’re the only reason I came to this thing,” She grinned, quickly taking her phone out of her pocket to show her the back of her phone case, “Huge Hyunjin girlie. I wanna fuck him so bad, dude. He’s sex on legs.”

Y/N felt her breath hitch at the picture she had on her phone case. He was posing in the mirror, his collarbones and shoulders on display, hair bleached blonde, biting his lip softly. She had only ever seen him with black hair, so this was new to her.

She found herself starring at the picture for far too long, the girl letting out a giggle before putting her phone back in her back pocket of her jean shorts. “Told you, sex on legs,” She grinned again, and Y/N couldn’t disagree with that statement, “I heard he gets around with his fans. Maybe I’ll get lucky tonight.”

Y/N felt a strange feeling of slight jealousy at her comments, annoyance overcoming her and she glared at the girl through her sunglasses. She shouldn’t have even said anything in the first place because now her mood turned sour and she just wanted to punch this girl in the face for even thinking she would end up in his bed.

Choosing to ignore her, she finally ended up at the front of the line, ordering the largest size of a frozen mango margarita. She took a large gulp as she turned around after saying a quick thank you, eyes scanning the huge crowd in attempts to find the B stage that Felix and Minho were currently standing at. However, she realized she should probably use the bathroom before she met up with them, so she asked the closest person she could find where the bathrooms were.

“They’re right over there!” She replied, pointing to a section where a bunch of different trailers were parked. She thanked them and made her way over there, finding the closest trailer and walking inside.

She cringed at the thought of bringing her drink into the bathroom with her, (she should’ve thought this through), but had no choice but to, stepping inside the bathroom and sliding the door shut.

After she washed and dried her hands, she let out a sigh, looking at her reflection in the mirror. She had opted to braid her hair instead of attempting to fix it, the two braids hanging over her shoulders. Her top was low cut, black, and lace, splitting down the middle and flowing over her sides, coming down to her boots that covered her ankles. Her stomach was on display, belly button ring shining from the light in the bathroom. She wanted to fit the festival vibe a little more, and she wanted to dress confidently. She thought she looked good, but would it be good enough for him? She shook her head, trying to get those thoughts out of her mind, grabbing her drink and sliding open the bathroom door.

She was surprised to see a guy sitting on the couch that was weirdly placed near the bathroom, stumbling back slightly when seeing that he looked awfully familiar.

He glanced up at the sound, eyebrow furrowing in confusion. “Uh,” He let out, glancing her body over from head to toe before looking back at her face, “Who the fuck are you?”

Slightly taken aback, she took a step backwards, “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused. Now you’re hot and all, but who the fuck are you and why are you in my trailer?”

Y/N blinked, words failing to come out, and she knew she looked like an absolute idiot. Why did this guy look so familiar, and why was he talking to her like that? Isn’t this the public restroom?

“Alright, I’m calling security.” He decided, beginning to type in a number on his phone, and Y/N was frozen in her spot. What the fuck was going on?

Before anything could happen, the door opened, and Y/N felt her throat close up.

“Han, you won’t believe what shit I just heard. I—“ Hyunjin stopped his sentence, eyes widening when seeing that Y/N was standing in their trailer. Y/N couldn’t move, couldn’t speak—she felt like she could pass out any second now. Everything was happening too fast, and she could feel her breathing picking up.

Not even five seconds passed and two men were barging through the door, shoving past Hyunjin and heading straight towards Y/N. She took a step back in fright, stumbling when both of the men gripped her arms so tightly it was sure to leave a bruise. She let out a gasp, the men dragging her like she was some ragdoll, and Hyunjin immediately stepped in front of the door.

“What the fuck? Don’t touch her like that!” He yelled out, but the men ignored him, continuing to shove her towards the door. It wasn’t until she stumbled over her feet and fell, one of the men roughly grabbing her and jerking her back up, that Hyunjin had lost it.

“I said don’t fucking touch her! Put her the fuck down and take your hands off her before I get you both fired!”

It was then that the men let her go, and Y/N immediately backed away. She let out a wince, rubbing her arms, noticing that she already had a bruise forming on her thigh from when she fell. Her arms were aching and she just wanted to get the hell out of here. This was such a bad idea. She shouldn’t have came.

“Dude, what the fuck are you doing?” The guy on the couch, Han, asked, and Hyunjin glared at him.

“What am I doing?! What the fuck are you doing? Did you seriously call them to come get her?”

Han let out a scoff, “Obviously. She’s in our trailer. I mean she’s fine as hell but she’s obviously a crazed fan. Why else would she be in here?”

If looks could kill, Han would be dead by now. “She’s not a crazed fan! I know her! It’s Y/N!” He yelled out, Han’s eyes widening slightly in realization, and Y/N could cry right now. “Get out!” He screamed at the two men still standing by the door, then glancing back at Han who now looked guilty as fuck sitting on the couch. “You too!”

“Where the fuck am I supposed to go?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care! Just please get out.”

Han let out a sigh, glancing over at Y/N, mumbling out an apology before heading out the door. It was quiet, too quiet, and Y/N refused to look up, hugging her arms across her chest.

“I… I was just coming to use the bathroom,” She softly spoke, not really knowing what else to say other than to explain herself, “This girl told me this was where the public restrooms were. I—I didn’t know it was your trailer. I’m sorry. I’m gonna go now.”

She then quickly attempted to walk past him and out the door, but a hand on her wrist stopped her. She winced slightly, and he immediately let go, letting out a, “It’s okay. You… you don’t have to leave.”

She could feel her eyes watering, a heavy feeling in her chest, so she chose to ignore him and pushed the door open. A strangled noise behind her made her stop in her tracks, voice heavy, pleading.

“Please don’t leave me.”

A tear fell down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away, taking in a deep breath, closing her eyes. This was what she wanted, right? She wanted to be able to see him again, to talk to him, to ask him why he left. So why was it so hard?

She stood there for a second before slowly turning around, eyes softening at the sight of him. His eyes were heavy, glossing over, and Y/N just wanted to hug him. So she did.

He stumbled back a few steps before his arms latched around her, holding her close to him. Her face was buried in his shirt, her arms wrapped around his neck. She was holding him so tightly, afraid if she let go he would disappear again. And she really, really didn’t want him to disappear again.

“I’ve missed you,” She sobbed out, tears soaking his shirt, but she couldn’t help it. The words kept coming out and she couldn’t stop it. “I’ve missed you so much. I can’t—I can’t…”

“Shh, it’s alright. I’m here. I’m here, Y/N,” He whispered in her ear, and she sobbed even harder. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I’m here. I’m right here.”

It was embarrassing, really, how easily her body betrayed her—how easily her mind betrayed her. When it comes to him, she has no self control, no mind of her own. He was here and she was here and that was all that mattered; he was all that mattered.

She was sure she would regret this later. But right now, she needed him to hold her. It was all she wanted for five years; it was all she ever wanted.

So he held her and she held him and she cried and cried and cried, until she couldn’t anymore. And when he wiped her tears away with his fingers once she looked at him, when he whispered how much he missed her and how sorry he was, when he cradled her face in his hands so tenderly and looked into his eyes that she loved so much, she finally felt at home.

“Hyunnie, I brought you some of those churros you like,” A girl’s voice was heard once the door opened, and Y/N turned around, heart dropping in the pit of her stomach when seeing the same girl from last night that was kissing and grinding all over him. “Maybe after you eat we can—oh. Who’s this?”

And maybe that’s the best thing about home—the feeling of it. Where we love is home. Even if we have to physically walk away from it, our hearts will still stay.

Hyunjin was her home. But she wasn’t his.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

▫️taglist: @hyundumpling, @hhwangsmoon, @luvyblossom, @inthefairygrove

#hwang hyunjin #hyunjin fanfic #stray kids #hwang hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin angst #skz x reader #skz smut #hyunjin smut

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moonstruckme · 9 months ago

Note

hi mae !!! i’ve been resding ur stuff for forever & if this request doesnt strike ur fancy i just wanted to at least say that!!! but i would love love love anything you have to say about steve harrington comforting his s/o (maybe shy!reader?? but no pressure on that) after a very tough emotional few weeks? like yknow those weeks that just knock you down & then stomp on you a little & have you saying “it’ll get better if i can just get through the week” but then the next week comes and it’s just as 🕳️🤸 as the last ? idk if this makes sense but ik u wanted more requests w our other boyfriends !!

Hi lovely, thank you for requesting!

Steve Harrington x shy!reader ♡ 791 words

You’ve been trying not to cry for about a month now, and this stupid movie is going to do you in. Steve’s got his arm splayed across the top of the couch, his features lit in the colors of the TV screen and revealing only a vague sympathy for the characters in the movie as opposed to the steady crescendo of emotion that’s building behind your eyes.

You turn from him so he won’t see your heating complexion and do your best to hold it in. You hold it until you can feel your heart beating in your sinuses. Steve’s fingers start toying with your hair, and it feels so ridiculously casual and tender that it only makes matters worse.

You must make some sort of sound, because then he’s shifting beside you. His eyes burn into the side of your head.

“Hey.” His voice is quiet, unsure. “You okay?”

You breathe in through your nose, swallowing hard. “Yeah.”

“Are you crying?”

“No,” you say. But you are now, properly, and your denial is completely undermined by the wobble in its delivery.

“You are,” Steve accuses, letting his hand drop onto your shoulder just as it gives its first great hitch. He tenses. “Hey, it’s okay. We can change the channel.”

You let loose a horrid laugh, wet and pitchy. “No,” you tell him, finally breaking and wiping underneath your eyes. “No, it’s fine. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to upset you.” He grabs the remote. His tone has gone serious and a bit panicky. “We’ll find something lighter to watch.”

“It’s not the movie.” You turn towards him and he pauses, frozen like a rabbit in the forest. “It’s just…it’s a lot of things, you know?”

Everything about Steve melts. His shoulder sag, the hand with the remote dropping into his lap, his lips part, he slouches towards you a bit, his eyebrows pull up and to the middle. “Yeah,” he says, soft and smooth as butter. “Yeah, I get that.”

You try to smile, making fun of your own ill-timed meltdown, but another sob breaks free from you again. Steve slumps further. If you keep going like this, you’ll shatter into a million pieces and he’ll liquefy into a stain on the couch and that’s all Robin will find of either of you when she inevitably comes looking.

“It’s okay.” Steve’s hand makes its way from his lap into yours, taking your hand and squeezing your fingers lightly. “You’re okay, you’re good.”

And you know you are, but it feels nice to hear him say it. Your shoulders shake, and you tilt your head downwards, salty tears dripping off your nose.

“Sorry,” you croak out, but he only brings his other hand to your face, angling you up where he can see you.

“I don’t mind,” he promises. When his thumb sweeps an arc from the side of your nose nearly to your ear, you shudder.

Steve’s brows twitch together, but he doesn’t alter his grip.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“No, what is it?”

“It’s just…” Just that you short-circuit anytime he touches you, and right now your body doesn’t know where to put the excess emotion. You think if he pays you any more attention you’ll have a heart attack. Cause of death: Steve Harrington’s tender ministrations. “Sorry, nothing.”

His forehead creases as his thumb brushes once more, feather light, under your eye, and then his expression clears. Because though intuitive Steve is not, he’s perceptive enough to catch your unintentional glance to where his hand rests upon your cheek.

“Oh, sorry.” He stills, eyes flickering back to yours. “Hey, if you want me to stop, I’ll stop. Just say the word.”

And you have to think, because it is torment, and it might actually kill you. But at least this way you’ll die happy.

“That’s okay,” you murmur. “It’s nice.”

A little smile curves Steve’s lips before he remembers you’re sad and tries to squash it. You feel something similar tugging at your mouth anyway.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

You sniffle. “I don’t think so. I’m just kind of tired of it, you know?” He looks like he does. “Maybe we could just keep watching the movie?”

“Yeah, sure honey.” The endearment slips out as if it’s something he says every day, and Steve’s demeanor doesn’t reflect anything different. For your part, you feel a buzzing in your chest so intense you wonder if you’ll disintegrate into tiny pieces. He scoots closer to you on the couch, settling an arm around your shoulders and leaning you into his side. “Let me know if it’s too much, okay?” he asks quietly, like it’s a secret.

You rest your head on his shoulder and say nothing.

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bonesandchalamet · 2 years ago

Text

lessons in french- t.chalamet

pairings: timothee chalamet x reader

warnings: google translated French

a/n: first post on this account 😁 my main is @thatsdemko 🫶 feedback is always appreciated xx

“and how do I say ‘I love you’ again?”

“Je t'aime.” he says, mouth full of a buttery croissant you fetched from the bakery across the street. it’s your morning ritual, the boy who lives across town comes to your apartment and you get him “New Yorks finest croissants”— at least that’s how he puts it as.

your recent discovery was of his ability to speak a different language, French that is, and ever since you’ve been begging for lessons due to your upcoming trip to Europe. you could say New York public school systems failed you, as you barely remember a lick of the words he makes you repeat.

“and what about stop making a mess of my sofa.” you scowl brushing the pastry crumbs that scatter the cream colored seats. he mumbled a sorry as he finishes his last bite, a delighted moan escapes his lips.

“why the sudden interest in the language again?” he asks brushing his hands on his pants rather than using the crummy paper napkin that’s already wadded up and disintegrating from the butter of his hands.

“because I’m going to Europe in three weeks! I can’t look like an idiot.”

“certaines choses ne peuvent pas être changées.” he lightly giggles shaking his head watching your face scrunch up trying to dissect the sentence, but you fail. some things can’t be changed

you huff an annoyed sigh, arms crossed over your chest, “I wish I never bought you that croissant years ago.” you joke watching his acting skills come to life as he pretends to be hurt.

“now you’re just being straight up rude, amour.”

—

“so when a nice guy offers me a drink at the club what should I say?”

“J'ai un petit-ami.” the same buttery croissant fills his mouth, he watches you saunter across your tiny New York City living room. he admits, you not knowing any French is fun for him. it means he has all control of what you repeat back and what you write in your journal for the trip. this one might’ve just been the icing on the cake. I have a boyfriend

“J’ai un petit-ami? doesn’t that mean something else?” you question, head cocked to the side watching him shake his head in response as he swallows the pastry.

“nope.” he replies, reaching for the hot coffee you’ve provided him, he slurps the contents watching your pen move vigorously across the page. he thinks it’s cute how focused you are, he loves how close you hold the notebook to your face and how you spell out the words in a way only you will know what they mean.

“so are all French people assholes? I’ve been reading up on your people.”

he laughs, “my people?” he watches the red hue light your face, hands up in defense, “that’s what the internet says!”

he laughs once more telling you to never believe the internet, although he did play you into thinking the words “I have a boyfriend” mean something completely different, so maybe he is apart of that collective group.

—

“repeat it to me once more, amour.”

“Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?” do you want to sleep with me tonight

he chuckles a little to himself trying to find a serious tone, “that’s exactly what you should say to the cab driver.”

you chuck an orange at him watching his hands go up in defense as he allows the fruit to hit him the arm, two of you laughing, “this isn’t funny, Timmy! I leave in twenty-four hours!”

he watches you collapse against the cream colored sofa beside him, legs extending into his lap, “how am I supposed to order croissants for you across the world?” you bat your eyelids in an affection way, it’s your last hope to get help— the pastry was already the key to his heart. it gets him to do anything.

“what a dilemma that is.” he shakes his head, fingers tangling through his curls that fall in front of his eyes, “just don’t forget your notebook and you’ll be fine. do you remember how to order?”

“un croissant š'il vous plaît.” a croissant please

“tu est parfaite.” you are perfect

—

his phone buzzes in his pocket, it hasn’t even been a full day since you landed in Paris and you’ve been buzzing him like a mad woman. it’s his first time being in your place alone, he’s in charge of watering your plants. he notices you’ve left him money for his croissants and an extra key in case he misplaces the one you already gave him.

“bonjour mon ami how is Paris?” he picks up the phone plopping down onto your cream colored sofa and pressing speaker so he can listen and eat.

“did you know j’ai un petit-ami is I have a boyfriend?! you lied to me!”

he laughs, the familiar sound spreads a smile on your face despite your angry tone, it’s nice to hear him. even if you’ve been texting him, his voice is what you miss right now, “I guess you’re right my people are assholes.”

“damn right, chalamet! and I learned a little something from the bartender last night, tu es un connard!” you are an asshole

“Je t'aime!”

#timothee x reader #timothee blurb #timothee chalamet #timothee fanfic #timothee imagine #timothee chamalet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet x you #Timothee chalamet x y/n #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee chalamet fluff #timothee chalamet fic #timothee chalamet fanfic #timothée chalamet #timothée x reader #timothée fanfic #timothee x you #timotheé chalamet #timothée x you

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befuddled-calico-whump · 2 months ago

Text

Total $hit$how: Computer Games

in which Jericho has a talk

cw: referenced violence, implied manipulation, adult language, migraine

previous // masterlist // next

×~×~×

Jericho slept in for the first time in months. At the compound, Sahota and Vic had kept the team on a Ben Franklin approved schedule---early to bed, early to rise---and back at home, Ari was still at the age where she naturally woke up early. Saturday mornings were lovingly tiresome, and Sundays were for church and visiting. Much as he missed staying in bed on the weekends, he'd give up sleeping late forever to be home right now, Ari at his door, knocking and calling for him to wake up, wake up, come on already!

He pulled himself out of bed at nine, unable to stare at the ceiling and miss his family any longer. They all had work to do today, and completing the next tasks would put him one step closer to home.

And maybe one step closer to getting through to Harbor.

Jericho exhaled, changing into a fresh set of gray sweats, and stepped into the hall. He wasn't sure Harbor would still be in his room, but after a few knocks---

No answer.

After a few more knocks, Harbor stumbled to the door, looking like he'd just rolled out of bed. His old cargo jacket was thrown over his own set of grays, and his colorful hair was more tangled than usual.

Jericho offered a smile. “Sorry, I didn't know you were still asleep.”

Harbor only shrugged, not making eye contact, and Jericho stepped aside to give him room to move into the hall.

Okay. This was it. Time to talk about yesterday, see if they could come to an understanding. The rest of the crew would already be out for the day, so at least he wouldn't have to worry about them getting hostile and scaring Harbor off, but that wouldn't make the conversation any easier.

“You wanna grab breakfast before we get to work?”

Harbor once again shrugged, still not looking up. Good enough, Jericho didn't wanna do this on an empty stomach.

They ate in silence; Vic had left out plain instant oats and peanut butter, and the combination wasn't half bad. Harbor didn't eat much, his cut-up hands half-hidden in his jacket sleeves, fingers tight around a spoon as he tapped the side of the plastic bowl in an unsteady rhythm.

Maybe he felt guilty. That was a good sign, right? Sahota did say he'd told him to do it, so maybe Harbor had just run with the order, taken things too far, and regretted it. Breakfast could've been a good time to get the ball rolling, but Jericho didn't know the words to start, and Vic appeared in the doorway before he could find them.

After a brief exchanged greeting---and more silence from Harbor; he didn't perk up the way he usually did around their handler---they followed Vic past the briefing room---he tried not to think about the last time they were in there---and into a side room… side hall, more like. A corridor he hadn't been in yet. Was this where their trainers’ rooms were? Vic led them past a few closed doors, to a room with an external keypad. Jericho's eyes went to the floor as the man typed in the code, a habitual attempt at respecting privacy. On the other side of the door was a pretty unremarkable office; desk and lockable cabinets and an old computer with monitor attached. Vic powered it on, and it roared to life with a sound like a small avalanche.

As high-tech as Vic’s gear seemed, he was woefully out of date here. Maybe it was another level of security? The older hard and softwares were more difficult to access remotely, Jer knew that firsthand. Still, it had to be aggravating to get any sort of work done on it.

Again, he hung back, waiting for Vic to input the password before stepping forward.

“Are there any specifics you want me to go after?”

Their handler shook his head. “Anything you believe is relevant.” His hand went to Harbor's shoulder, giving it a squeeze and lingering there for a maybe a little too long. “Or anything Hunter here guides you to.” He rubbed a small circle into the younger man's shoulder as he spoke. “Remember what we've been training, mhm?”

“Mhm,” Harbor replied, quiet as Vic left the room. Jericho took a seat in front of the screen, deciding to ignore whatever nonverbal exchange had passed between the two. For now.

“Is Hunter your first name?” he asked after he heard the door close, fingers dancing across the keyboard to pull up various Rotorworx sites.

“Fuck else would it be?” Harbor—Hunter grumbled, leaning against the wall.

Jericho tried not to sigh too audibly. “Do you prefer that, or Harbor?”

“I don't care.”

They were off to a stellar start. Jericho rolled his shoulders, keeping his eyes on the monitor screen. This had to be a casual endeavor. Anything accusatory would likely make the other man clam up, or turn hostile, or worse, storm out and leave him to work alone. He cleared his throat.

“Is there anything you can, uh, see? Anything pointing me a certain way?”

“No.”

“Nothing at all?”

“If I see shit, I'll tell you.”

Jericho pressed his lips together, looking for a new approach. Something that would work. In the weeks he'd known the other man, Hunter had shown to be easily agitated and easily shut down; leaving the room or cussing them out at the first sign of disapproval. He seemed insecure. Maybe around this specific group of people, maybe around people in general. He seemed to like Vic, and Vic had a tendency to praise him.

Was that the secret? If Hunter was just afraid of not measuring up, and that was the root cause of all this, would assuring him of his ability help break his shell a little bit?

Did it feel right to praise him after what he'd done to Sahota?

Jericho shook the thought away. He still didn't know the full story. Starting the conversation with a clear bias wouldn't get him anywhere.

Encouraging Hunter had seemed to work back in the labyrinth. Sure, he'd still been a little hostile about it, but he'd stuck with them, just that once.

“I've been impressed with your abilities,” Jericho said as he scanned the source page of one of the smaller Rotorworx websites. “That implant you have is really something special.”

Hunter's scowl didn't seem to deepen at that. “Yeah… I mean. Yeah. It is.”

“Once we get the mission going you're gonna be the MVP. Even with all this preparation, we'll still be relying on you to navigate. Like a… psychic GPS.”

The other man snorted, but he seemed more amused than annoyed. “Guess so.”

Jericho made a point of scanning the page. Anything he believed was relevant. Vic's instructions were vague and unhelpful, but with a little push…

“Think you could do that now?” he said, glancing back at Hunter. “I'll be honest, I'm lost.”

He cocked his head, a flash of genuine confusion on his face. “Lost? I thought you were a master hacker or something. Can't you just… go in and find the secrets?”

Jericho let out a laugh. “It's not that easy. Usually I'm coming into a site with a very specific goal or target. Going after the institution as a whole… it's a bit too broad.” He gave him a slight grin. “Could really use a psychic GPS.”

“Yeah. Fuck. I'll try.”

Jericho scooted his chair to the side, allowing him room to step forward.

“I… I can't always get it though,” he mumbled. “I'll try, but sometimes I mess up. Or…” He trailed off.

“Hey, you're a million times better at it than I am.”

“Yeah.”

It felt like a success. They were working together, Harbor's attitude was brighter, progress on the task was being made. Too bad he'd have to darken the mood before too long.

“Uh. Try that?” Harbor pointed towards the bottom of the site page, and Jericho scrolled down, watching for anything that stood out.

“There?” He waved the mouse over an embedded link.

“No, not...” Hunter squinted at the screen, face pinched in concentration. “There. Not online. On… it's one of the computer files or something.”

Jericho minimized the window and opened the file explorer. This felt… not quite right. Why would anything relevant be stored on Vic's computer?

“Are you sure?” he asked, mouse hovering on the browser tab. Maybe he'd misjudged. It had to be difficult to translate something that usually applied to the real world to a computer screen.

“I'm… I don't know,” Hunter said. “Give it to me.”

Jericho moved his hand, allowing the man to pilot the mouse. Eyes half-closed, Hunter shifted it around, looking like a teenager at a ouija board. After a few jagged motions, he opened a folder. Another, another. Stopping at one that was simply labeled Untitled 1. Hunter frowned at the screen, teeth bared like he was ready to square up with the monitor. His finger twitched, accompanied by the click of the mouse, and the folder opened.

He seemed to recoil as its contents loaded, inhaling through his teeth, hurrying to backtrack. Jericho managed to catch a glimpse before he could retreat to the previous screen. Untitled 1 appeared to hold a bunch of videos. No thumbnails, but he caught a title or two. Battery, Switch.

“What was that?”

Hunter shook his head, brows drawn down tightly, something unsteady in his expression.

“What did you see?”

“Nothing. It's… this isn't what we're after.”

“What do you mean?”

“It's not… it's wrong.” He shook his head again, mouth twisted in a grimace. “This isn't what Vic wanted. It's not… just go back. Fuck. I'll try again, I-I fucked it up.” He shoved himself away from the monitor, mouse askew in his wake.

Jericho took control of it, hovering over the folder. Untitled 1. What had led Hunter here? He didn't know how his abilities worked, so maybe it was just a case of crossed wires, but what if it was something more? He was tempted to open the folder again, to watch just one video, just to see what this was all about , just in case it was important.

He managed to hold back. Vic trusted them to only use this system for the mission. Jericho didn't want to breach that trust. He knew Vic had a lot to hide, but he had a right to that, didn't he? Especially with a job like his.

“Okay.” He closed the file explorer, re-opening the Rotorworx tabs. “What about now? See anything?”

Hunter squinted at the monitor in silence, his expression twitching, eyes chasing unseen things. His hand went to the mouse. Jericho yielded it to him, half expecting him to open a source code box and tap away at it like some kind of psychic hacker. Instead, Hunter clicked the tab for one of the sub-sites and opened the “meet our staff” page. He frowned at it for a moment, before tracing a circle around a name with the mouse.

“That guy,” he said. Michael Walsh, the text read. Data Analytics Manager.

“What about him?” Jer asked.

“Don't fuckin know,” Hunter said, pressing his palm into his eye. “It's just… him.”

Jericho looked away from the screen, turning instead to the man at his side. Hunter was breathing through a scowl, his eyebrows drawn down in a wince. What had he said before? In the maze? His head hurt.

“Hey, we can take a break.”

He shook his head, palm pressing into his temple. “I'm fine.”

Well, he certainly didn't look fine. “It's cool, I'll start looking into Walsh. You can rest your eyes for a minute.”

“Said I'm fine.” As if to punctuate the statement, Hunter took the mouse back in a quick jerk.

“Hunter—”

“Fuck off.” He clicked a few hyperlinks and tapped a few keys, his eyes barely open, each breath hissing through his teeth. Then, at last, he fell back in his chair, eyes closed.

“There. That.”

Jericho didn't even glance at the monitor. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Hunter snapped again. “I just… it’s training. I need to get better at finding.”

“Even if it hurts?”

“Need to learn to push through. Vic said it's important.”

Vic said. Of course. It was becoming more and more clear that Vic’s priority was the mission, not any of them. And the mission really was important, but if their handler didn't care about them beyond their functions, it was up to them to look out for each other.

“You did good,” Jericho said. “But rest is important too.” He pressed his lips together, adding, “Gotta be fresh for the next one, right?”

At least the last part seemed to resonate with Hunter.

“Yeah. Guess so.” He was hunched in his chair, both hands pressing against his face. A part of Jericho wanted to tell him to go lie down, but he doubted he'd take that well. More than that, they still had things that needed to be addressed.

And a time when Hunter was in pain was probably not the best time to do that addressing, but it had to happen soon. Later today, Jer told himself. Finish the task, and confront him when he's feeling better.

The page Hunter had landed on was really more of a popup window. Walsh’s contact information, including a phone number and company email, were displayed across it in tiny black text.

Hmm… If this was where Hunter's sixth sense was leading them, there had to be a reason, right? Jericho glanced at the email address.

Maybe it was as simple as a scam email. Walsh seemed to be high up on Rotorworx’s food chain. If Jericho could trick him into letting some malware onboard, it could give him more access, and faster, which was just what they needed.

He opened a new window, mulling over which site would be the best place to create a fake email address, and what exactly he should say to get Walsh rise to the bait. Maybe he'd pretend to be someone from a startup asking for advice, or an events host looking for an experienced speaker for their next conference. A little ego stroking went a long way…

Jericho set to work whipping up a quick identity and make-believe company, aware of Hunter behind him, curled up in his chair, facing away.

It would be easy to take a quick break. Dig back into Vic's files. Watch one video, just to confirm there was nothing deeper going on, that Hunter's finding it was just a fluke. No one but him would ever have to know…

With effort, he buried the urge. No, it wasn't his place, and especially not right now. They had a task. He had work to do.

It was time to go whaling.

×~×~×

Laying all the bait hadn't taken as long as he'd expected. Once the message was sent, Jericho let Vic know what their plan was, and their handler said he'd keep an eye out for the notification that his trojan horse had been let inside.

So far, nothing. He ate a quiet lunch with Harbor, then invited him to the library, more quiet. At this rate, Joy and Sahota would be back before he’d even brought up the matter. Jericho let out a small sigh, glancing at Hunter.

He was just slouched on one of the chairs, staring at an unopened book in his lap.

Huckleberry Finn.

Jericho cleared his throat. “I appreciate your help today. Wouldn't have come up with that plan without you.”

Hunter just shrugged. He wondered if the headache was still bothering him.

“When else have you used it? Besides the maze and the bomb, I mean. Did you ever use it to figure stuff out before coming here?”

Hunter tapped his fingers against the book’s cover. “No. It was Vic's idea.”

Ah. “Is that what you two have been working on together?”

“Yeah.”

Jericho licked his lips. He was delaying a much needed conversation, and they were running out of daylight.

“So… did you use it yesterday?”

Hunter’s shoulders tensed, nails scraping against the book as his hands tightened into fists. “No,” he said after a moment.

Then what happened? Once again, the right words evaded him. What could he say?

Did you have a reason to hurt Sahota? No, that felt wrong.

Why did you hurt Sahota? It wasn't that simple. Was there any excuse that would make it make sense?

“I saw what happened,” he said instead, letting out a soft exhale. “You know, I saw him. After… after you were done.”

Hunter's eyes darted back and forth, as if tracking something invisible, his gaze firmly angled on the ground.

“You hurt him.”

He watched Hunter's mouth tighten, settling into a scowl, eyes dark as he lifted his head. “I don't fucking need this.”

“Hunter—”

The other man shoved himself to his feet, book hitting the floor in a flutter of pages. Damnit. He wasn't about to grab at him, but how could he make him stay? Talk about it? He couldn't say it's okay, he couldn't say I'm not mad, couldn't say you did nothing wrong.

“We're a team,” he said, just as Hunter reached the door. By some miracle, he stopped, arms swinging at his sides.

“That doesn't mean anything.”

“It does. It means a lot.”

“I know you don’t fucking want me here.”

“I do want you here.” Jericho sighed. “But we still need to talk about yesterday. Please.”

The room felt like a freeze frame, neither of them moving, Jericho certain Hunter would cuss him out, or run away, or maybe just stare him down, and then what?

But he didn't. Slowly, head bowed, like a kid caught passing notes in class, he trudged back to the couch, falling into the cushions, fingers squeezing fingers.

“I'm not sorry for it,” he mumbled, though his tone suggested otherwise. Jericho took a seat beside him, slouching forward until their eyes were about level. Not that Hunter showed any signs of glancing up.

“Why not?” he asked, careful to voice it as a genuine question, not an accusation.

Hunter shrugged. “What's the fucking point? It already happened.”

“And you don't feel even a little sorry?”

Hunter shook his head. That had to be a lie, right? Or was Jericho just putting too much hope forward?

“Would you… is it something you think you'd do again?”

Hunter's head snapped up at that, his eyes meeting Jericho’s for all of a second before dropping again. There was a flash of something there, something he hoped was remorse, but it was swiftly covered up by anger.

“Is that what this is fucking about? You think I'll jump someone else? Like… like some kind of rabid dog? Maybe I will. What are you gonna do about it?”

Jericho took a breath. “I don't think that, Hunter. I'm just trying to work out what happened.”

A snort. “Sure.” His hands wrapped tighter around each other, knuckles whitening. “Maybe I just got tired of Sahota being an asshole and decided to teach him a lesson. Maybe I did it because I could.”

“Did you?”

Hunter didn't answer.

Lord give me patience. “I won't pretend I can see inside your head. I don't know why you hurt him, but you know it's not right. Like I said, we're a team. We can't go around beating each other up.”

“Mm.”

“You don't have to tell me your side of this. I just want you to tell me it won't happen again.”

“What if it does?”

Jericho dropped his own gaze at that. “I hope it doesn't, but that would probably be something that pushes you off the team.”

“And who made you the boss of that?” Hunter was glancing up again, lips pulled back in a snarl. “Vic is in charge, not you.”

“Vic wouldn't stand for that,” Jericho replied, but even as he said the words, he wasn't sure he believed them. Vic had watched Sahota suffer and done nothing. Vic had electrocuted them for training value. Vic…

“Was he there?” he asked before Hunter could shoot back. The other man's mouth hung open, whatever he'd been about to say stuck in his throat, eyes widening.

“Hunter, was Vic there yesterday?”

His jaw snapped shut, eyes darting along the ground as if looking for the right answer. “He… he came to watch me.”

Something cold was spreading through Jericho. Something that should've been right in front of his face, a puzzle piece he'd missed.

I hope you had a productive training day.

He's resting.

Vic had known about Sahota, but he'd shown no concern, no anger at what had happened. Hell, he'd sent him on a mission today. Why hadn't he connected it before?

“He didn't stop you.” It wasn't a question.

Hunter gave a tiny shake of his head. “He…” his words trailed off, expression twitching.

“Did he tell you to hurt him?” It was irrational, something Jericho didn't want to believe. Why would someone with so much power over them do that? Of course, he already knew the answer, he'd seen it before. Out in the real world, a repeating cycle. Because he could. Because who would stop him?

“He— it was for… he said it was training, and I… I don't know.”

Jericho stayed quiet. What next? What could he—

“I didn't want to. I just— he… fuck. He said…”

“He said..?”

“Fuck. Nothing.”

“Did he threaten you?”

“No.”

Did he believe him? “Look, it's okay. I'll talk to him about it, tell him—”

“No,” Hunter said again, more insistent.

“Why not?”

“He…” Hunter blinked furiously, gritting his teeth. “I can't fuck this up. Vic said… he said I could stay, after all this bullshit.”

“And you want that?” The question came out harsher than he'd intended. Jericho wanted to get as far away from Vic as possible once this was over. Who would want to stay?

“Yeah,” Hunter said, an edge entering his tone. “Something fucking wrong with that?”

“No, I… why Vic? He's…” Not a good person.

“He's what?” Hunter got to his feet. “What else am I supposed to do? Go back to being nothing? Being alone? Anything's better than that. This is… it's something. Vic cares about me.”

“No he doesn't.” The words fell out before he could stop himself, before he could come up with something more tactful. How much did Vic really care about any of them? They were assets, nothing more. He barely seemed to care about Sahota. But that wasn't what Hunter wanted to hear.

“Fuck off.”

“Hunter—”

Before the other man could storm out of the library, before Jericho could try to say anything else, Benji stumbled through the door, his hair windblown, makeup smeared.

Both Jericho and Hunter stopped short.

“What's—?”

“Kaius,” Benji said breathlessly, leaning on the doorframe.

“Someone got Kaius.”

×~×~×

@theonewithallthefixations , @violets-whumperflies , @whump-me ,

@pirefyrelight , @soheavyaburden , @snakebites-and-ink ,

@whumpsday , @kixngiggles , @echo-goes-aaa , @whumpcateyes ,

@clickerflight , @sodacreampuff , @starfields08000 , @neverthelass

#hooray more writing #I'll be real this feels weak somehow but it needs to come out at some point lol #total$shit$how #writing #manipulative whumper #fiction

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kscheibles · 1 year ago

Text

congratulations (college bf! au)

content warnings: f! reader, fluff

word count: 0.8k

dedication: to my sweet, sweet friend, mads (@toomuchracket), who earned her master’s degree today 🫰🏼

You sit on a stool at the countertop of your and Matty’s tiny NYC apartment, crowded with books, plants, and shoes you couldn’t quite give up in the move. You chuckle to yourself as you recall countless conversations with Matty as you packed up your dorm room – him “just checking again, sweetheart” that you needed a second pair of black heels. Boys never understand. You touch your steaming mug of tea gingerly, sipping it and letting the sweet, herbal taste melt on your tongue. Years ago, you would have made fun of him for having tea in the morning. Now, everything in your life is colored by him, and all the better for it. He makes the colors richer.

Matty is in the kitchen, donning a pair of grey sweatshorts and a graphic t-shirt making breakfast. You feast your eyes on the sight of him being so domestic. The past year, he’s been working while you’re still studying and completing your integrated master's program. As of a few months ago, you’re officially at the mercy of your dissertation committee to see if you’ll be awarded the degree. You’ve been feeling lost – like your life is on hold until you know the result. Stuck in a limbo between being accomplished and a total failure (not to mention broke from grad school tuition costs). Matty’s noticed a change in your disposition and adjusted well given the circumstances. He makes coffee, cleans the apartment, and plans dates like it’s his job. Right now, he’s standing in your shared kitchen, flipping pancakes with surprising agility, and doing a happy dance each time they turn out okay.

He makes a show of bringing you your pancakes, speckled with chocolate chips and stacked uniformly on your nicest plate. Butter melts off of them and the smell of chocolate fills your nose. Matty sits beside you, his plate a shockingly different sight. On his plate are amorphous pancakes, lopsided and deformed.

“What happened to yours?” you tease, pouring some maple syrup onto your plate and offering him the carafe.

“Wanted you to have the pretty ones,” he says softly, accepting the syrup and kissing you on the forehead. You smile into his touch.

You’re a few bites into your delicious pancakes when you get a call from one of your schoolmates. You look at Matty silently questioning if he’ll be mad if you take it and he waves you off. You pad into the bedroom, answering the phone calmly.

“Get your laptop out, bitch,” she states, curtly.

“What?” you ask, reeling.

“Get your laptop out. They’ve released our dissertation grades. I want to find out the same time you do.”

You grab your laptop and bring it out to the kitchen counter, putting your phone down.

“You’re on speaker, Matty’s here so be nice,” you almost shout, simultaneously logging into your student portal.

“Matty, I’m always nice about you, she’s just being a dick,” your friend clarifies.

“I know you too well to believe that for a second, darling,” he muses, fitting more pancakes into his mouth and washing it down with his tea, “What’s this about?”

“Are you on the page?” you ask into the phone.

“Yes, ready?” comes the staticky response, “Refresh on three.”

“Okay.”

“One…two…three!”

As the page reloads, you see the familiar crest of your school with the word ‘Congratulations’ juxtaposed over it.

“Oh my god!!” you squeal, jumping up and down. Your friend cries excitedly on the other line.

“Babe, what on earth is going on, you haven’t told me a thing,” whines Matty to your left.

“You’re officially dating a girl with a master’s, Healy,” comes the voice from the phone. Matty's face brightens in every possible way: his eyebrows raise, mouth widens, eyes light up and squint in total contentedness. He comes up to you, hugging you tight and kissing your lips softly, unflinchingly.

You pick up the phone, turning it off speaker and pressing it to your ear.

“Congratulations, babe,” you muse. Matty looks at you with total adoration that’s morphing into hunger by the second. You meet his eyes as his eyebrows quirk suggestively. You smile and Matty leans down, kissing your collarbone and creeping up slowly towards your exposed neck.

“I have to go,” you nearly moan into the receiver, “drinks soon?”

“Yeah yeah whatever blow me off to be with your boyfriend,” she teases, “Love you.”

“Love you,” you make a kissing noise and click the phone off.

“Hey, I love you too,” Matty whines into your skin. You touch his hair once your hands are free.

“I know baby, I love you, too.”

“Yeah?” he meets your eyes, “Well I’m about to show you exactly how much. My perfect, smart, sweet girl,” he punctuates each word with a kiss below your ear.

He whispers “congratulations” one more time before lowering himself to his knees.

#matty healy fanfic #matty healy x reader #matty healy x y/n #matty healy fluff #matty healy fanfiction #matty Healy

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shipfishwrites · 9 days ago

Note

i've been wanting to get into pern rp, do you have any tips/suggestions?

hey sorry for the late response, for some reason tumblr forgot to tell me

thank you for this ask!! i would love to answet it fully and completely but it would be a very long answer!! basically a breakdown of how to scope out an rp that will fit you.

here are some broad based ideas to get you started as you shop for an rp:

check activity. find an rp that aligns eith your preferred activity level -- if you want to perfect every post and trade replies weekly, look for evidence of that, if you want daily replies, look for that

check recently approved characters to see if they match the vibe you want -- a lot of times the lore doesn't match the vibe of the site, so something can look really cool based on the lore but actually have become a different vibe over time

pern rp particularly has a pretty bad time with staffing all of their ranker-players. if eventually attaining a ranking/leadership/plot relevant character is your thing, look for evidence that the admin team does that (evidence, not them sayimg so in the rules)

here's some things i do that may not work for you:

i don't bother to read the rules until i've basically made up my mind if i'm going to try to play there. i go for the dragon info page (and wher page if the site does whers) and read through the description of the canon and special colors. are greens forced/expected to be stupid sluts? are bronzes forced to be noble knightly chads? biiig pass. the way these pages are written can give you a great idea about how flexible and story-oriented the site intends to be. i lean hard either "let me do anything" or "make the restrictions interesting" so ymmv

for jcink rps: go to the bottom of the site, get "today's active topics" and change it to see the past month. pay special attention to who is active in the rp. look at their characters. see if the vibe is right for you

check out the adopts!!! mega points if the admins are cleatly trying to get people to enter leadership positions. big demerits if there is some kind of ban on newbies having leadership. (buying rankers can be neutral or bad, it depends on the site)

for getting into pern rps specifically:

for this purpose i'm going to assume you, nonnie, are somewhat familiar with the books and at least passingly familiar with the art and commentary in the pern tag here on tumblr. i assume you like the books?

it is very important to remember that if the site you are looking at is up front in praising the books, says they really love them, etc., this is a BAD SIGN.

pern rp fandom is (maybe a little bit uniquely?) in an argument with canon, not in conversation with it. there are so many aspects of canon that just suck in an rp setting (ex. lifetime appointment of the senior weyrwoman, meaning the only way to shake that up is for her to die, everything about flights) that even the most canon weyr has yo make concessions to make it playable/comfortable in a group setting.

so if a site up front is like "we're canon. not like those other sites. we actually care about the lore." this is actually a dogwhistle for blatant transphobia, homophobia, favoritism, and really shit moderation. likewise, a tone of anger or vitriol towards more canon-leaning sites is a red flag, they tend also to have extremely narrow views on what the "right" way to play is.

the best way to play a pern game is to take the books as a framework, like baking a cake, that's your flour and egg, you're getting the structure from there but your cake isn't going to taste good unless you get a site willing to spice it up with its little extras and go to the effort of putting some basic butter and baking soda in there to fluff it up. pern in the novels does not work as an open, public rp, it's not a recipe for cake, so everyone adjusts it, the people who say they don't are Lying.

anyway

suggestions

i don't feel comfortable recommending an rp for you nonnie without knowing what you're most interested in. i have heard that at least one site is just starting up so that could be a great place to start.

i'm in the middle of making a site but it's not ready yet

@ followers, kindly recommend your rp spots for nonnie! (don't just drop the ad, give them a feel for the rp. don't leave out the rough bits either, we all know every site has them)

#discussion #question answer #dragonriders of pern #pern #rp meta

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momo-shut-the-fuck-up · 1 month ago

Text

So i ve done the main story in infinity nikki and im gonna stop playin now, before i squeeze the game dry of content and have nothing (new) to do on release.

Time for a lil review/thoughts post

I m not gonna review every single mechanic in the game, simply things that stood out to me or that i wanna talk about. I also wont add more images, i kinda want ppl to see the world for themselves... i ll share more when the game comes out tho.

There s a lot of text under this. Tldr, i like the game i think it's a solid, enjoyable experience with a good gameplay loop, the story isn't for me, and i'll keep playin of course. And u should try it too if ur device wont blow itself up tryin to run it.

Dress up

The bread and butter of Nikki games... it's good as usual. Game doesn't shy away from long skirts or coat tails or complicated ballgowns just cuz nikki can run and jump and dash now and i'm very happy bout that. There's some clipping issues once in a while, but it's nothing major and the clothes we do have in the game are lovely. There s an evolution system for some of the sets, which makes em a diff color.... usually they can evolve once, but i saw Three extra evolutions for one of the UR sets and that scares me. Bcs to evolve them u have to craft the suit again. So u have to pull 4 copies of a suit to max it out..

Combat

Game's definitely succeeding in its quest for being cozy. There's no real stakes, combat isn't difficult in the slightest but i do welcome it- super simple but it's pretty fun regardless. The boss fights were surprisingly creative and fun for what they are, it's just unfortunate that you have to do them more than once or twice (crafting mats)- but they do change what the boss does so it's different depending on what mat u are farming for... and u can claim double or triple or however much stamina u got-le of the mat after u complete it once. So that s rly nice.

Exploration

I actually think it's really really good. Again this isn't a difficult or complicated game, not yet i guess... but with the major goal being "get new clothes" and "take pretty pictures maybe", the open world feels actively engaging to participate in. There's collectibles everywhere, little challenges you can do that are diverse but quick, styling battles, collecting everythin from animals fur to bugs to fish, and allll of this brings u closer to that never ending goal of woo more clothes.

However even if a challenge doesnt give you a blueprint, it's still just. Really Nice to exist in this world. It's very whimsical, as expected of Lilith, and the world has a combination of realism and cartoon artstyle that is just soso appealing to me. It's genuinely how i would've imagined miraland to look in 3d. Shame it's not the same miraland we know..

Story

Hmm... silly is one word i could use for it. Cute also. The story isn't doin anythin bad per se, and i did start skippin dialogue near the end w the pieceys because i want to keep at least Some part of the story for the game's release... but i get the gist of it, and it s just not my thing.

It feels like a story made for children, and it definitely would get a G rating. Easy and simple to follow, there's moments of tension or sadness sure but with the antagonist bein a literal babie lookin cutey fairy with a grown man's voice, or the creatures that i'm interacting with are a bunch of. Fuckin weird lookin big eyed balls of fabric that look closer to plushies than somethin Alive... it's all so silly and dramatic sometimes i can t help but cringe.

Part of it is a me problem, if u just open ur heart and free urself from the cringe the story is fine. It's just a little too kiddy for me and i so desperately hope it won't stay like this forever. My prayers might be answered though, there's a whole war beyond the borders and we have refugees around... shit's lookin bad for Umbrosa.

Other things i noticed that i liked:

The effect on nikki's skin when it's raining, she actually has water dripping down her face... its so cool

Momo capes are actually kinda neat ngl. Especially cuz the fucker follows u around everywhere, at least i can bedazzle him

Npc models look really good im a fan. They do suffer from "everyone is very beautiful" syndrome, which makes some of the npc villains look/sound ridiculous, but they have kid-teen-adult-elderly versions of models (i never see teen models in these games! Its cool!) And some body variation. The grandmas look so lovely i cry

The dark skin tone is really dark, and it looks quite nice and natural.

The lighting engine in this game is just rly good in general. God bless UE5

The edges of the map where there s forest, which u obv cant go thru, the forest is made to be darker, thicker.... i m a huge fan of this idk y. It's not just *invisible wall in front of an open field* nopee cant go there lets explore that area later tee hee. And it looks good to boot.

Camera function is p robust, has more options for changin brightness/saturation/contrast etc which i feel Shining Nikki lacks.

Some of the creature designs are so good man i looove themm <3.... the pieces are awful tho. Ok creature design is a hit and miss sometimes but the stray hatty? Peak. All the weirdy fashionable animals? Peak.

Bein able to quick switch thru ur saved sets while in the overworld is real neat

Oke that was it. Bye

#infinity nikki #if i was a reviewer i d put more effort into the presentation of this game but #im not and its 4 am so

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year ago

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Also I'm sorry my mind is Lorcan mush right now 😂 but like him baking with his soft SO? Like she made him his own apron and it's fall so there's a slight chill, she had flour smeared on her cheek and he's chuckling as she shows him how to properly roll put a pie crust because he messed up the first one

Managed to type this out before my body completely gave out. Been a long minute..

warning: slightly suggestive

Pie crusts

This man aka Lorcan was far from sweet in others' eyes. They crossed the street when he walked through the town. They never stared. Never struck a conversation. These were the basic rules. You just didn't. Because this man had a reputation. Had a name to him. And it made one shiver. Made you take a double look just to make sure that you haven't caused yourself trouble. Haven't ended up in a bad book. Because Lorcan had that predatory attitude. That cold-blooded killer look. One that drowned out any happy sounds around.

But if they only knew. If they only knew what kind of male hid away behind the cold mask. What kind of male he was when no one but you were watching? His beautiful, selfless, radiant mate. His life. His pride. His joy. You had Lorcan wrapped around your finger and people who got to see that, that mainly being the family, knew that Lorcan was nothing but a big gentle giant. One that would drop everything if a planted pot in your yard needed to be moved. One that stocked up your hygiene supplies every month because he knew that you would forget about it. One that did nothing but smile when he was in your presence.

"No, you need to put more flour on it", you pointed to the jar, watching the dough sticking to the rolling pin. Rolling pin that looked ridiculously tiny in Lorcan's hands. "You said to dust it once", he rumbled, yet still reached for it. "Yeah, but you probably put too much butter in it, so it's sticky", you said, turning to reach for the bottom layer. A tin filled with a berry jam you bad made first thing in the morning.

Lorcan let out a slight growl as he tried to roll the dough again, only to be met with the same sticky mess. "You can't scare the pie out, Lor", you chuckled slightly. Sometimes you wondered why he even agreed to participate in things like this. He had little to no patience yet if he saw you doing anything by yourself he never failed to ask if you wanted him to join you. Or he would simply join himself without saying a single word.

But pie making and Lorcan had a deep-rooted beef going for a couple of months. That was Lorcan's first attempt at making the pie crust. It had gone awfully bad and nothing usually went bad for Lorcan. This man was way too competitive. Way too sure of his abilities to fail at something. You had laughed till your stomach asked back then. Watching him scowling at the dough, your tiny apron barely covering his chest.

Now Lorcan had his apron on. Once you had made for him. One he had been strangely excited to receive. "Stan up for a minute", you had told him one evening while he was finishing his paperwork. Lorcan had given you a strange look but didn't question it. Especially when he saw the messing tape in your hands. "You know, my cock hasn't changed size", he cackled to himself while you hit his chest shaking your head, "You're disgusting, put your hand up, you brute". That had him cackling, while you tried to hide your smile. You had sowed him his apron that same night. Had chosen a much more dim color, no pastels but Lorcan had frowned as he looked at it. "I don't get to have a pocket with a flower?", he questioned, glancing at your apron that hung in the kitchen. "Oh, I... I didn't think you would want one", you admitted, reaching for a deep red thread but Lorcan beat you to it, "Make it pink and blue, like yours".

You smiled at the memory as you moved to stand beside him now. "Add some more flour and knead it through once more", Lorcan simply nodded his head, following your instructions. You reached to rub the back of his neck as he worked. You would have loved to run your fingers through his hair but it was put up in a messy bun, the baby blue scrunchy shining against his onyx-black hair. "You're doing great, honey", you said softly, watching him reform the dough back into a misshapen ball. "Usually, I'm the one praising you. This is new", he grumbled but his attention was full on the backed good he was desperate to craft perfectly.

You let out a light laugh, "You're making it sound as if I never tell you just how amazing you are", you scrunched up your nose and that was enough for Lorcan to lift his head to look at you. Any, even the smallest feeling of hurt or discomfort coming from your side crippled the dark wielded. "You do, you do...", his words died down as his eyes fell on your face. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?", you tilted your head to the side. "You have...", Lorcan's voice died down, "Let me get it for you", he said softly, fingers moving to brush over the tip of your nose, whipping away the flour. His touch lingered, moving to brush over your cheek next. "And something here", he muttered, before leaning in to softly kiss your lips. No rush. No eagerness. No need to rush as Lorcan softly kissed you over and over again.

"Smooth", you mumbled as you two finally broke apart. You turned your attention back to your mate, "You took your time with my lips. Must have been real dirty", you trialed off, and turned to check on the oven. Instantly feeling Lorcan's hands slipping around your middle, "They are dirty, especially when they are wrapped...", you elbowed him in the stomach, "Don't you finish that! You dirty, teenage fea baby...", Lorcan only laughed, smirking down at you. "Go finish the crust or you will die defeated by the pie", you pointed to the forgotten dough, ushering him away with a tea towel. Smiling to yourself when another laugh slipped past Lorcan's lips and the smooth sound of him humming filled the kitchen.

#lorcan lochan salvatorre #lorcan x reader #lorcan salvaterre x reader #lorcan salvaterre imagine #lorcan tog #lorcan imagine #lorcan tog imagine #lorcan tog x reader #tog x reader #tog x you #tog imagine

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gabisbabbies · 7 months ago

Text

from ask on gay-poet-gabriel blog

Johnny (little boy)

Love love loves to imitate his cg, especially dally

When dallys (failing at) cooking, johnnys playing with little fisher price plastic food

When darry or pony is cleaning, johnny is playing with his little broom or washing his plastic dishes

Loves schedules and having plan😪s

Darry is good at keeping structure for him

A bit scared of kids and other people so he doesn’t like to go to the park, especially the one he killed bob at

Loves to be read to! Especially by Pony!

Wheelchair user!

Absolutely a stuffy kid

Loves to chew on his stuffy (a small rabbit plush that’s not dirty, just stained)

Cleaner than other littles (two-bit)

Goes non-verbal often, babbling

Ponyboy (flip, regressor-leaning)

Also a stuffy kid!

Has a palomino horse plush Soda gave him named Star

Loves to color, is very precise with his hands

Also goes pretty non-verbal, completely mute

Loves to write and read little stories! They are very cute and he likes to give them to Two-Bit, he keeps them and treasures them

Begs and begs everyone in the gang to buy him a pet!

Favorite little food is grilled cheese

Pretty clean, but likes to play in puddles

As a caregiver, he’d love to take care of Johnny and read him stories (and write him stories too!)

Darry (daddy fr)

Loves to explain things!

Sometimes gets a bit frustrated though so he needs to learn to cool down occasionally

Helps with homework (already canon lol) also likes to help little pony spell things for his books!

Doesn’t like movies but he is perfectly content with laying Pony and Johnny on his belly as he sleeps and they watch a kids’ movie.

Loves to cook for his littles! (and everyone else too haha)

Sometimes even makes his chocolate cake really sweet just for Sodapop

Sets up any toys that need assembly (i.e. plastic cooking station, baby easel)

Soooooo happy that pony regresses

Bought pony like 20 pacifiers because “Anything is better than those cancer sticks” (he’s got the spirit!)

Soda (Flip, right in between daddy and middle)

Horses

So many horses

Steve made him a wooden rocking horse one time and he loves it

Would love my little pony (rip)

Loves to play with cars and pretend to change the oil on them with little tools!

Loves to watch Steve work on cars and pretends to help him with plastic wrenches etc

HUUUGE sweet tooth

Chocolate, ice cream with sprinkles, waffles with tons of syrup and butter, honey straight from the jar

Darry and Steve can’t stop him

Loves to cuddle!

Will latch on and never let his cg go

Enjoys sensory play

Sand, mud, leaves, feeling blankets

Blankie kid!

Has the grossest, wettest, most slobbered-on blanket in history

Can get out of any trouble ever

Dally (daddy)

Will only take care of Johnny and Pony

Usually only considers taking care of Pony when Johnny’s there tho (cuz he doesnt have a soft spot for him [we all know the truth])

When he and Johnny are home alone, he really does try his best to cook and make sure Johnny gets 3 meals in

EXTREMELY protective

Likes to surprise them with ice cream and little candies he steals from 5 and dime stores

Totally would push Johnny in his wheelchair around town if it wasn’t so dangerous for them

Likes to take them to watch ducks and just hang out

Can be pretty quiet and get a bit angry but still reassuring

Loves to watch movies with them both!

Will only start to cuddle Johnny at the start of the movie, and then Ponyboy will whine and then he feels bad and gives in (because he loves Pony don’t lie)

Two-Bit (Flip: like i would call it daddy but its more like…cool uncle? And middle!)

Really fun to hang out with!!

Babysits Soda, Pony, Johnny, or all three at once!

Everyone loves him!

Able to distract them when they have a cut or something and need Darry to put some alcohol on it

Makes funny faces and steals coloring books and sticker sheets for them (which really annoys Darry because he keeps finding stickers everywhere)

Loves Pony and encourages him to write his stories

Helps Pony come up with really silly things to write and draw

Loves to tell fun stories to all the littles!

As a middle: loves to eat

Loves to eat so much

Especially cheesy things

Messiest little you will ever see

Loves to play pranks

Watches Youtube prank channels unironically and tries them out

Can get out of any trouble just like Soda

Lets the little ones trace animals and shapes in his freckles

Steals the littles so many gifts. SOOOO MANY

Perfectly happy to watch Mickey Mouse with them all day

Steve (daddy, but only Soda’s)

Loves to build things for Soda

Can weld!

Horrible cook

Burns chicken nuggets (but Soda wolfs em down anyway)

Playfully wrestles and roughhouse with Soda (but lets his little boy win)

Makes forts with Sodapop and likes to play hide n seek with him!

Pretty childish too but also can be pretty mean

Has made Soda cry on several occasions and everyone hates him for it (SORRY STEVE PART 3)

Saves Sodapop from Two-Bit’s pranks

Loves to play with cars with Soda

Loves to drive Soda around in his car

Likes to nap with Soda

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gay-poet-gabriel · 7 months ago

Note

Idk if you do headcanons, but if you do, can you make age regressor hcs for the curtis gang and the Shepards?

I love you for this anon except anyway i have never tried to write a headcanon in my life anyway im sorry im just doing the curtis gang because like…MAN IDK THE SHEPARDS VERY WELL IM SORRY THEY WERENT IN THE BOOK TOO MUCH I ALSO ZONE OUT A LOT

(some of these might fit into the 60s time period, some probably will not)

Anyway

Johnny (little boy)

Love love loves to imitate his cg, especially dally

When dallys (failing at) cooking, johnnys playing with little fisher price plastic food

When darry or pony is cleaning, johnny is playing with his little broom or washing his plastic dishes

Loves schedules and having plans

Darry is good at keeping structure for him

A bit scared of kids and other people so he doesn’t like to go to the park, especially the one he killed bob at

Loves to be read to! Especially by Pony!

Wheelchair user!

Absolutely a stuffy kid

Loves to chew on his stuffy (a small rabbit plush that’s not dirty, just stained)

Cleaner than other littles (two-bit)

Goes non-verbal often, babbling

Ponyboy (flip, regressor-leaning)

Also a stuffy kid!

Has a palomino horse plush Soda gave him named Star

Loves to color, is very precise with his hands

Also goes pretty non-verbal, completely mute

Loves to write and read little stories! They are very cute and he likes to give them to Two-Bit, he keeps them and treasures them

Begs and begs everyone in the gang to buy him a pet!

Favorite little food is grilled cheese

Pretty clean, but likes to play in puddles

As a caregiver, he’d love to take care of Johnny and read him stories (and write him stories too!)

Darry (daddy fr)

Loves to explain things!

Sometimes gets a bit frustrated though so he needs to learn to cool down occasionally

Helps with homework (already canon lol) also likes to help little pony spell things for his books!

Doesn’t like movies but he is perfectly content with laying Pony and Johnny on his belly as he sleeps and they watch a kids’ movie.

Loves to cook for his littles! (and everyone else too haha)

Sometimes even makes his chocolate cake really sweet just for Sodapop

Sets up any toys that need assembly (i.e. plastic cooking station, baby easel)

Soooooo happy that pony regresses

Bought pony like 20 pacifiers because “Anything is better than those cancer sticks” (he’s got the spirit!)

Soda (Flip, right in between daddy and middle)

Horses

So many horses

Steve made him a wooden rocking horse one time and he loves it

Would love my little pony (rip)

Loves to play with cars and pretend to change the oil on them with little tools!

Loves to watch Steve work on cars and pretends to help him with plastic wrenches etc

HUUUGE sweet tooth

Chocolate, ice cream with sprinkles, waffles with tons of syrup and butter, honey straight from the jar

Darry and Steve can’t stop him

Loves to cuddle!

Will latch on and never let his cg go

Enjoys sensory play

Sand, mud, leaves, feeling blankets

Blankie kid!

Has the grossest, wettest, most slobbered-on blanket in history

Can get out of any trouble ever

Dally (daddy)

Will only take care of Johnny and Pony

Usually only considers taking care of Pony when Johnny’s there tho (cuz he doesnt have a soft spot for him [we all know the truth])

When he and Johnny are home alone, he really does try his best to cook and make sure Johnny gets 3 meals in

EXTREMELY protective

Likes to surprise them with ice cream and little candies he steals from 5 and dime stores

Totally would push Johnny in his wheelchair around town if it wasn’t so dangerous for them

Likes to take them to watch ducks and just hang out

Can be pretty quiet and get a bit angry but still reassuring

Loves to watch movies with them both!

Will only start to cuddle Johnny at the start of the movie, and then Ponyboy will whine and then he feels bad and gives in (because he loves Pony don’t lie)

Two-Bit (Flip: like i would call it daddy but its more like…cool uncle? And middle!)

Really fun to hang out with!!

Babysits Soda, Pony, Johnny, or all three at once!

Everyone loves him!

Able to distract them when they have a cut or something and need Darry to put some alcohol on it

Makes funny faces and steals coloring books and sticker sheets for them (which really annoys Darry because he keeps finding stickers everywhere)

Loves Pony and encourages him to write his stories

Helps Pony come up with really silly things to write and draw

Loves to tell fun stories to all the littles!

As a middle: loves to eat

Loves to eat so much

Especially cheesy things

Messiest little you will ever see

Loves to play pranks

Watches Youtube prank channels unironically and tries them out

Can get out of any trouble just like Soda

Lets the little ones trace animals and shapes in his freckles

Steals the littles so many gifts. SOOOO MANY

Perfectly happy to watch Mickey Mouse with them all day

Steve (daddy, but only Soda’s)

Loves to build things for Soda

Can weld!

Horrible cook

Burns chicken nuggets (but Soda wolfs em down anyway)

Playfully wrestles and roughhouse with Soda (but lets his little boy win)

Makes forts with Sodapop and likes to play hide n seek with him!

Pretty childish too but also can be pretty mean

Has made Soda cry on several occasions and everyone hates him for it (SORRY STEVE PART 3)

Saves Sodapop from Two-Bit’s pranks

Loves to play with cars with Soda

Loves to drive Soda around in his car

Likes to nap with Soda

will crosspost this on my subblog (gabisbabbies)

also theres no way this is 1,000 words dude how

#the outsiders #my hcs #headcanons #hc #the outsiders hcs #darry curtis #sodapop curtis #steve randle #two bit mathews #ponyboy curtis #johnny cade #age regression #agere #KEEP INTERACTION HERE SFW THANKS #cute!#love them #i love u anon

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jomiddlemarch · 9 months ago

Text

I loved and guessed at you, you construed me

It was not that he was waiting for her as much as that he was most often in the faculty sitting room at this hour and so was she and the staff knew to leave out a full tea service and also a magically chilled bottle of very dry amontillado, the color of her eyes. And then to tell anyone else that the room was occupied and that they were not to be disturbed.

It wasn’t that he was waiting for her, but he did look up when she came into the room, letting the ancient, rare and precious book he held slip out of his hand, an instinctive, wandless spell keeping it from clattering onto the floor.

“You cut your hair,” Draco said.

Any pretense to eloquence, savoir-faire, or intellectual rigor associated with achieving his Potions Mastery and Mwandamizi kemia had been decimated by the four words, uttered in a tone of complete shock, which given his Pureblood upbringing meant flat, with a hint of scorn. He had spent the past twelve years working to convince Hermione he wasn’t that man anymore, the one who would have meant the scorn, the fault-finding appraisal, cold and superior and not terribly clever underneath it all.

(The one he’d felt doomed to become before the chandelier fell in his family’s ballroom. Before she’d testified to keep him out of Azkaban. Before she’d returned his formal letter of apology with a brief addendum You were a child, Draco an absolution he didn’t deserve.)

Blaise always said he was his own worst enemy. Theo always nodded and offered a glass of single malt Scotch. Neville always shrugged and tried to reassure Draco, meandering through some nonsense about how they’d all had to grow up too soon, let down by the adults, forced to experience trauma that they’d been lucky to survive and a plate of buttered toast would soon set him to rights.

Luna changed the subject and talked about some possibly fictional chimerical creature to take his mind off his shortcomings. It never worked but he appreciated her effort and consistency.

“I suppose that’s better than ‘Bloody hell.’ And “Holy fucking Christ.’ Harry reverts to Muggle obscenity when he’s really surprised,” Hermione replied. “You only told me what I already know, as I didn’t accidentally fall into a Mongolian silver scissor-bush.”

“Is that a thing?” Draco asked.

He had to keep talking but there was a lot to take in, the startlingly gorgeous line of her bare neck, the angle of her jaw, how her eyes looked enormous, luminous. How her chestnut hair was swept across her brow and came to a delicate little point on the nape of her neck, all these hidden aspects suddenly marvels revealed. Suddenly, astonishingly breath-taking and erotic and also heart-breaking, because he’d wanted so to run his fingers through her loose hair, to stand behind her and draw a brush through her curls. Watching her eyes get drowsy in the dressing-table’s looking-glass, resting a hand on her bare shoulder and feeling the tickling silk of her hair. He’d wanted to cast the spell that ended the charm securing her chignon, to pull out the jeweled pins she used to keep her braids in the coronet around her head.

“No. It sounds like something Luna would mention though,” Hermione shrugged. It was as if he’d never seen the gesture before.

“It’s a lot to take in,” he said.

“It’s actually not. It’s both literally and figuratively not,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Snape being a double-agent in love with Harry’s mum was a lot to take in. Any Sunday lunch at Molly Weasley’s table is a lot to take in. War and Peace in the original Russian without a translation charm is a lot to take in. I took off a few inches—”

“A few inches?”

“Fine, I got the first professional, Muggle, haircut of my adult life because I was fed up with my hair and charms and Sleekeezy and glamours, so many glamours, and you would think I have announced I am Grindelwald’s secret lovechild,” she said in a tone of complete exasperation, pursing her lips in a matching moué he felt an impossible urge to kiss very thoroughly and until she was gasping his name.

He was fairly certain that action would not be requited, not now, and potentially not ever.

But definitely not now.

She was now almost glaring at him, waiting for a response.

If this was ever to become something beyond hopeless pining, if he were ever to be allowed to call her sweetheart and coax her back to bed, he couldn’t get the next part wrong.

“Are you happy with it?” he said. It was a gamble, saying anything would have been a gamble, but there was a chance he’d gotten it right.

He’d surprised her, that he could tell instantly, though her face changed very subtly. It meant no one else who’d seen her had asked and considered she might be. No one else had thought about why she’d done it, only what they thought of it. Evidently, both Weasley and Potter had indicated a negative response, Weasley likely driven by his own unrealized Pureblood upbringing, where all witches wanted the long hair associated with power and Potter never wanted her to be anything other than she’d been in their youth, when her unruly hair was her most obvious signifier.

“Yes, I think I am,” she said.

“That’s good. That’s what matters,” he said. He was supposed to reference the book he’d been reading or follow-up on their most recent conversation about geopolitics or whether Chopin was a Squib or at the very least offer her something to drink, the tea first and then, when she demurred, the sherry. But all of those would require him to look away from her and he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Not quite yet.

“I ought to have done it a long time ago,” she said. She spoke without her usual forthright confidence, but also without any of the regret the statement might have implied. She sounded hesitant, as if she wanted something from him she felt she shouldn’t. Or shouldn’t ask for.

It was tempting to make some sort of declaration, offer reassurance or an argument. But he’d gotten this far by asking her a question.

“Why do you say that?”

“I don’t know. It would have been a way to move on. Grow up. Make my life easier, decide it for myself,” she said. She was watching him very closely as she spoke. She liked that he’d asked, though she wasn’t smiling. “It wouldn’t have been grief or some kind of, I don’t know, unhinged trauma response.”

It would very much have been a response to the colossal trauma she’d experienced if she’d hacked it all off after being tortured, and it wouldn’t have been unhinged when one considered the myriad extremely risky alternatives she might have chosen, but Draco wasn’t about to ruin everything. Even as his own worst enemy, he could keep from doing that.

“It could have been just something you do when you’re in your twenties, trying something out. Like, going to the Maldives or studying Norn. Learning earth magic from tribal elders in Namib.”

“Only you would saying learning earth magic in Namib is something you do in your twenties,” Draco said wryly. “Most people just go to the pub and fret a lot.”

“You didn’t,” she said.

“I think it’s well established I’m not most people,” he said.

“No. You’re not. You’re the only person who didn’t tell me cutting my hair was a terrible mistake,” she said. “As if it could even remotely compare to the other terrible mistakes I’ve made.”

“It’s not a terrible mistake,” he said. “And you’re the person I know best whose made the fewest terrible mistakes in her life and we can sit here drinking sherry talking about it because of it.”

“My parents wouldn’t agree,” she said.

“Neither would mine. I wonder how people grow up when they don’t have to discover their parents were deeply, entirely wrong about something absolutely crucial to survival,” Draco said.

“We could ask Blaise Zabini,” Hermione said after very clearly Thinking About It, a little crease appearing between her eyebrows.

“Too risky,” Draco replied. “It’s only the husbands people talk about but people have a way of disappearing when they ask questions about his mother.”

“No one would comment on her haircut,” Hermione said wistfully. “What a bloody icon.”

Draco laughed, startled.

“You’re enchanting,” he blurted out. Stupid, gauche, impulsive—he could go on (and on) about how ill-considered it had been.

“Well, I am a witch,” she said. She did not seem put off. In fact, she smiled at him, a little shyly. “Goes with the territory—”

“You enchant me. Bewitch me,” he said, throwing caution to the winds. “You don’t want anyone to comment on how you look, so I shouldn’t but you’re exquisite—”

He broke off, fearing he’d broken it all. She was still in the room and he still had all his bits and bobs, when he knew she was a dab hand at wandless curses. It was rather late to decide discretion was the better part of valor, but better late than never.

“I didn’t do it for you,” she said.

“No,” he replied.

“I didn’t do it only for you,” she clarified. “But I was curious to see how you’d react.”

“Did you have a hypothesis? You usually do,” he said.

“Yes. You’ve exceeded it slightly,” she said. There was a gleam in those sherry-brown eyes and when she tilted her head to the side, he understood the vampire’s insatiable lust.

“I can do better than slightly,” he said, half-dazed with the realization that she was requiting far more than he’d ever imagined. And that she’d imagined his response to seeing her bare neck, had wanted his admiration. He got up from his chair and crossed the room to her, standing close enough to take her in his arms. “I can do a wide margin. Prodigious. Overwhelmingly—”

“I like prodigious,” she said and he leaned in and kissed her parted lips softly, then deeply, one hand at her waist, the other cupping her cheek. The urge to possess her was tremendous, held in check only by an immense and constant tenderness, the moon that could pull the devouring tide back from the shore.

“Can I see overwhelmingly?” she whispered. “For comparison—”

“Of course,” he answered and moved to kiss her neck. He tasted the pulse of her carotid, sucking gently where he wanted to nip her. He moved back up to the hollow behind her ear, grazing her lobe with his tongue, then murmured,

“You cut your hair. I love it.”

#dramione #hermione x draco #draco POV #post-hogwarts #epilogue what epilogue #hermione gets a haircut #romance #pining #always some extra worldbuilding #references to lots of characters #had so much fun I wrote a second part #that one's hermione POV

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pacificheights · 2 months ago

Text

My Lizard Loves You and So Must I

Posted on AO3

No warnings apply.

----

“Just because that pompous asshole is older than time itself and has worked at this university since before the dinosaurs went extinct, doesn’t mean that he knows everything there is to know about philosophy. I mean, isn’t it supposed to be some sort of opinionated subject? Isn’t the point of philosophy to think?” You grumbled under your breath.

“Well-”

“It was a rhetorical question, Aemond; I don’t need an actual fucking answer!” “No, but I like to poke at you when you’re already pissed off,” he smirked, punctuating his point with a literal poke to your upper arm.

Aemond - a weird guy with an even weirder name - sat next to you in your philosophy 110 class. You had come in a bit late on the first day, and, apparently, nobody wanted to sit next to the eye-patch kid. So, you had taken your seat next to him, and now, nearing the end of the semester, you still hadn’t changed it.

“You’re a dick,” You murmured, poking him back. “I need coffee. Do you want coffee?”

The two of you were already heading in the direction of the overpriced student-run coffee shop on the far corner of campus.

“You know that you shouldn't drink so much caffeine. It makes you shake like an anxious chihuahua,” He said. He adjusted his backpack on his shoulder - he wore it only on one side, like a cool and mysterious guy, or something.

Your understanding of Aemond was limited, if you were being completely honest. You had known the guy for three months, and, in that time, you had figured out that he was, one, incredibly clever, two, an asshole, and three, that he had a large iguana named Vhagar. She was like fifteen years old and also an asshole, just like her owner. She adored him, but had tail whipped at you when you tried to enter his apartment.

“Yes, well… I don’t have a rebuttal for that, but I do want my six dollar pumpkin-spice coffee.”

“As you wish, princess,” Aemond replied. You moved closer to him, so that your arms were touching as you walked.

The two of you had some little flirtatious game going on, it seemed. He was absolutely atrocious to everyone else the two of you had come across - cold, standoffish, a bit psychotic, even - but with you, he was so soft, so warm.

You didn’t know what made him like that - maybe it had something to do with his eyepatch. You hadn’t asked for the story behind it, and he hadn’t given it to you. But, beneath all of it, you could tell that there was some desire to be loved. Maybe he had mommy issues. You knew that his family was wealthy - they paid for an off-campus apartment for him and his siblings - so maybe he had been raised by nannies and had some mommy issues.

The two of you walked in silence for a few moments, just enjoying the closeness of each other's company as you made your way to the coffee shop.

“Are you getting anything?” You asked him upon seeing the door.

“You know I don’t put that sort of trash into my body,” He opened the door for you as he said it. What a gentleman!

You walked to the back of the line, him joining by your side. You rocked back and forth between your heels and the balls of your feet as you looked up at the stereotypical hipster chalkboard menu, even though you knew what you wanted.

You ordered your overpriced latte when it was your turn, and a pastry, because everyone loves pastries, and went to go claim a table by the window with Aemond. The leaves were changing colors as fall grabbed hold - you were entranced. It was you first year on campus, and Harvard was absolutely stunning in the fall.

“Would you like some of my croissant?” You asked him once the two of you were sat. You tore a piece off, crumbs flaking off, and held it out for him to take.

“(Y/N),” He groaned, shaking his head, “do you know how much butter is in that? Your arteries hate you.”

“Your arteries hate you,” You retorted, sticking your tongue out like a child. You put the piece of the croissant that was meant for him in your mouth. “Can I come play with Vhagar today? I want to try and feed her.”

“She's never going to like you,” Aemond took his phone out of his pocket - his lockscreen was his beloved iguana. He unlocked it and began to scroll through his camera roll until he found what he was looking for, and then slid the phone across the table to you.

It was a photo of an older, physical photo. You looked closely at the screen to see Vhagar as a baby. Well, baby Aemond and baby Vhagar - he could be no more than ten in that photo, and, wow, he had two eyes! He was holding her in his lap, looking down at her adoringly.

“She was so tiny!” You exclaimed, thinking it best not to mention his eye.

“That was the first day I got her,” He responded fondly. Nobody could deny how much he loved his lizard.

You slid his phone back across the table to him, a smile playing across your lips. Your name was called, and you went to get your latte. He followed.

“So… I can come over, then?” You asked.

He shrugged and nodded, “If you'd like. I think I have some strawberries in the fridge - she likes those.”

The two of you headed out of the coffee shop and started in the direction of his house. He lived a little ways off campus - a walkable distance - in a beautiful, four bedroom house. You knew that his parents paid for it. His two older siblings lived there, as well, and Vhagar had her own special room.

The first time you had gone over to his place, it had been out of pure necessity. A bird had gracefully shit on your head while you and Aemond were coming out of class. Your friendship with him was just beginning, at that time, and he was still incredibly distant and cold to you. But, after laughing at your misery and misfortune, he had offered to come and let you shower off your shame so you didn't have to wait and be seen in the student dorm showers.

That was when you had first encountered Vhagar. She hated you then, and she hated you now.

The two of you idly chatted - well, you chatted and he listened - as you made your way to his house. He unlocked it when you got there and held open the door for you. You walked in and immediately took your shoes off, knowing it was one of their house rules.

Aemond took off his shoes and set his bag down before taking your hand and dragging you over to the fridge. He pulled out the carton of strawberries and handed you three of them.

“I'm not sure if she'll take them from you,” he cautioned. “You should use the tongs to feed her, otherwise she might bite.”

You followed him into the lizard room. It was also so hot and humid in there, thanks to all of the special lights and the humidifier. He sat on the floor, and she immediately came running over to him. You stood in the doorframe, watching the interaction.

“Come.” It sounded like a demand. You carefully and slowly walked towards them, sitting down next to him. Vhagar immediately whipped her tail against your leg.

“Vhagar,” he scolded, lightly tapping her on the nose. “Here, give me a berry.” He held out his hand and you placed a strawberry in it.

Aemond kissed the top of his lizards head before holding out the strawberry for her. She ate it happily. “You try,” he encouraged.

So, you did. You scooted closer to him, berry in hand.

“She can sense fear,” he teased with a smirk. He took your hand and placed it closer to her mouth, and then, just like magic, she took the berry! “See? Nothing to be afraid of, she's a good girl.”

“She's an ass, just like her owner,” you shot back at him.

“Hey. Don't insult my lizard, she has feelings. She's a very intelligent creature.” Aemond’s fingers found their way under her scaly chin, scratching the loose skin under it. You just smiled; he was so gentle with her, it was such a stark contrast to how he treated everyone else.

“Can I feed her the last berry?” You asked. He nodded in reply, and you reached your hand out, without him holding it this time. The cold blooded beast hesitated for a moment before deciding that, ultimately, her hatred for you was less intense than her desire for the strawberry, and she took the berry from your hand.

You grinned, ear to ear. This was the first time that Vhagar had allowed you so close to her.

“She's deemed you worthy,” Aemond declared, a bit of warmth in his voice. Vhagar, realizing she wasn't getting more food, crawled out of his lap and back to her basking platform.

He stood up, offering you a hand. You took his hand and he gently guided you up.

“She hates everyone, but… she let you feed her,” He beamed, staring into your eyes.

You nodded, “Yes,” you responded smugly, “I must be special.”

“I believe so,” he led you out of the room and closed the door behind you. “That was all I needed to be sure.” He murmured softly. He still hadn't let go of your hand.

“Aemond…?” You had never seen him this calm, never heard him speak so gently.

Before you knew it, his arms were around your waist, and his lips on yours. They were soft. His scent hit you like a freightliner - some sort of cologne and Old Spice. Why had you never noticed before?

You sank into his touch, melting into the kiss. His tongue flickered against your lower lip, and you parted your mouth to allow him access. He wasted no time sliding his tongue in, against your top teeth, your cheek.

As suddenly as it began, it ended.

You both stood there, staring at each other. Had that really just happened?

Wait…

“Were you waiting on approval from your fucking lizard to do that?!”

“Obviously.”

#house of the dragon #game of thrones #hotd #fanfic #ao3 #ao3 writer #aemond #almond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond Targaryen x reader #x reader #reader insert #college au

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