#people told me he looked like him even when I thought he looked like someone else

[01zfan]

sweetheart | l. at

nerd!anton x nerd!reader | 5.1k words

a request i got and it kinda made me go a little insane.

contains: anton pretends to be an insecure little nerd to plot on the reader, fingering, reader is implied to be a virgin

Anton is a sweetheart. He’s non assuming and soft spoken, so quiet that he has to clear his throat each time he speaks. He’s kind, always extending the same tenderness and patience to people he received as a child. He’s one of the few men in his program that the girls didn’t have trouble approaching if they had a question or trouble with an assignment. 

Each time anyone approached him with a question he was helpful, pushing his thick frames up his face before leaning to the paper. With a pencil he’d mark where the mistake was, and explaining it with a gentle voice that had girls leaning in even closer. 

After they got a smell of his cologne and the look of his soft skin everything else was easy. The girls would tilt their heads in curiosity about Anton, intrigued at how someone so shy made it this far in life. How someone was so cute from afar but something more once you got close. All he had to do was avoid their eyes and chew his lip a few times before they were sliding their phones over to him.

Just in case I need help with another assignment.

Anton’s eyes would always widen in shock. Not from the surprise of being pursued but just how easy it all was. The girls never found out that Anton was red in the face from the rush and he ducked his head to hide a smile of satisfaction. They would laugh lightly seeing his reaction, observing what they thought was insecurity. Before going on about their day they’d touch his shoulder or pull on him playfully.

Anton is a sweetheart.

But he also has a problem.

He knows he does. His friends compared it to a sweet tooth that bordered addiction, or someone who would walk into a casino with a twenty dollar bill expecting to hit big. They sometimes even called Anton a psychopath when he’d get all giddy telling them about his day. 

Anton knew he had a problem, but it was hard to stop when he got the sweet fix or hit the jackpot each time. Nothing could top the feeling of euphoria Anton would get when he’d come to one of those girls after they asked him to come to their place. He’d look at the messages in the comfort of his room and smile, knowing what it meant when they’d preface the study session by saying they were alone. He’s addicted to the game he’d play every time, faking the shy and insecure nerd that pretty girls were going to eat for dinner. Like they were throwing him a bone by inviting him to their apartment or dorm under the guise of doing homework. 

They’d answer the door in something easy to take off or something that would cling to them like a second skin. If they were particularly desperate it’d be both, yoga pants that showed everything and a cropped shirt that rode up with every movement. Anton loved shamelessly gawking at the girls behind his glasses, shuffling from foot to foot in front of them before they invited him in. He waited for each direction, eyes darting around their room before he was invited to sit down or told to take out his notebook. He would purposefully be a step behind, showing how lost he was to be in a room that didn’t belong to him or his other intraverted friends.

He loved letting the girls make the first move. On their bed settling in as they really got a look at him in the setting of their room. Something about how clueless he was made the girls all the more strung up. He looked everywhere but at them, shrinking himself on their bed. His timidness made the girls love making the first subtle touch on his flexed arm, or purposefully grabbing his pencil so they could compare hand sizes. Anton loved acting like he was nervous wreck from the longing stares to the side of his face, like he hadn’t done this dance a million times before. He loved messing up his words while trying to act oblivious to the hungry look in their eyes. He loved the pretty smile the girls would get like he was the one falling into their trap. 

His absolute favorite part was when they’d turn his head with their soft hands. Anton would falter from the eye contact, letting his lips part in confusion as they focused on him. The notebooks and assignments between them long forgotten as they shuffled closer to him on the bed.

“Have you ever been with a girl before?” 

They’d always ask that. Voices light and airy, already having an answer in their mind.

“I have.” 

He’d always answer with a stutter. The falter in his voice never made them push any further. They assumed by Anton’s darting eyes that the number was so minuscule asking about it would only embarrass him. 

(He stopped being embarrassed of his conquests a long time ago. He also stopped being able to keep track.)

Anton is a sweetheart, with a problem of seeing pretty girls eyes flash when they realize that he is more than capable.

The moment was always the same. The mood in the room would change when Anton would sheepishly take off his oversized hoodie. Each time silence would settle over the room when they saw what he was hiding underneath. His undershirt hugged close to his body, showing the chisel and the hard work he put in at the gym. When he was feeling tired while working out he’d replay the sight of the girls taking in his toned body. They’d reach out to touch his chest as if they were expecting it all to be fake, other times they would just let out a breathless wow.

He always basked in seeing the girls try to maintain their composure. They would become the ones averting their eyes and stumbling over their words. They would be shellshocked on their side of the bed, wondering what else he was hiding. But Anton was still sweet, he always was. He would always wait patiently to see if this was really what the girls wanted. He would pick at the seam of his pants and look down to the forgotten homework to let them know they could go back to what they were doing and pretend this never happened. But the obvious bulge in his pants always made pretty girls reach for the waistband of their pants without a second thought.

Anton was never sure if they gawked at him in an attempt to get his confidence up or if they were truly surprised. As if his build and height were no indicator, each time Anton took off his pants to reveal his dick they were always so shocked. That’s when the resolve would truly fall, when their jaws would drop and they’d blink their eyes from the sheer surprise. Precum would leak from his tip just from the sight of them coming to terms with what was twitching and red and angry in front of them.

“You’re big.”

The infliction in their voice was always different. Some girls would be excited, others would be confused, a few times they almost seemed disgusted. Like there was no way the shy kid in the back of the class was hiding this.

“Am I really?” 

Anton wasn’t an idiot. Even if he said it looking down at the bed, he knew that he was endowed and it was pretty. But sometimes he just needed to hear it an extra time, or look up to see a quick head nod when they couldn’t fathom saying it again. He was an insecure nerd after all. The quiet recluse in the back of class that barely had friends. An absolute sweetheart that threw girls around and manipulated their bodies into positions they didn’t even know about.

He loved being a good fuck. For a long time he believed he was put on the Earth to fuck pretty girls and to stop them from judging books by their covers. Anton was killing two birds with one stone by cooing at girls condescendingly while he gave them everything. It was his civic duty to exert his strength and to kiss girls until they were breathless and his glasses fogged. Each time he heard I didn’t know you had that in you an angel gained it’s wings. Whenever they’d tell their girlfriends what the shy nerd did to them in their dorm Anton was making the world a better place. Sometimes he would get called back, sometimes he would run through entire friend groups just to prove he was really committed to the cause. 

No matter how many people Anton fucked, no one seemed to believe it. Like it was collective psychosis that the nerd was a good lay, or a big open secret everyone was hush about. Anton was still treated like he was meek, his soft nature made everyone believe he was an open book, so much to the point that they made wrong judgements about his character. He actually hated staying inside and enjoyed exploring the city and trying new things with his friends. He was a sensitive person but he could also advocate for himself and admit when he was wrong. He was quiet, but only because he valued personal, quiet conversations more than anything. 

He eventually learned that people’s preconceived notions of him couldn’t be helped. Anton could fuck the entirety of the campus and people would still treat him like he was made of glass. He decided to be an optimist, finding the silver lining in people assuming he was the sweetheart with a cute smile. Their perception of him could’ve been worse, being shy was infinitely better than being loud and obnoxious. So when people would assume things about Anton’s personality he would only react positively. He would let his eyes go wide, acting shocked when someone would tell him about their first impression of him. 

“I thought you were an asshole at first.”

You told Anton nonchalantly, as if his whole world didn’t crumble. You didn’t even spare him a second glance as you wrote on your lab report. You were too busy adjusting the calculations and reading over the proper way to dispose the chemicals a million times to make sure it was right while Anton sputtered to himself. He was caught off guard by your honesty and surprisingly quick answer as if it was on the forefront of your mind. You only tilted your head up for a second before you had the answer. 

Anton didn’t know what to do about you. Just when he thought he had seen every girl in his major you came along, sitting in the back of class with him. You seemed to be the recluse of a person everyone mistook Anton for. You were in and out of class, not bothering to raise your hand during discussions or to socialize with your peers. You also didn’t seem to latch onto him like other girls of his major did. When they looked for Anton’s face in the lecture hall you walked right past him, not bothering to look up from your notebook or laptop. For the first time in his life Anton felt compelled to make the first move. He thought that you two had built up a good rapport, and that you saw him as your kindhearted and resigned classmate.

But you saw him as anything but that. You said it confidently too, and loud enough for your classmates at the next lab table to look over.

“What do you mean?” Anton said quietly.

You frowned looking up from the pamphlet. You were visibly annoyed, you even motioned to the undisposed chemicals to show him that you two still had class.

“Can we talk about this when our grade isn’t at stake, please?” You asked.

You weren’t commanding for his benefit. You weren’t taking into account that he might be afraid to hear a negative opinion about himself. You weren’t looking at him like girls had before, like you were trying to pick him apart for your own entertainment. You were willing to put validation for Anton on the back burner because you had other things to do. When Anton would have girls gush over him you were benevolent, indifferent to his fake insecurities. 

The more you paid attention to your work rather than him, Anton found himself scrambling. He was working hard for your affection. When the teacher announced that class was over and lab reports were due the next morning he leapt at the chance to invite himself over. He was supposed to be shy and insecure, getting nervous over the mere thought of being alone with the opposite sex. His facade went over your head. Instead, Anton watched you do the cost-benefit analysis of inviting him over before you shrugged your shoulders.

“Alright. Just follow me.” You said before setting a ridiculously fast paced speed walk to the other side of campus.

But Anton followed you. He bobbed and weaved through crowds and essentially chased you across the common area while you continued on your pace. Other girls would walk with Anton, trying to pry information out from his clammy hands. You barely spared a second glance over your shoulder like you were trying to lose him. Anton followed you all the way to your dorm, then up the stairs, then waited for you beside your door as you put your backpack on your desk and pulled up a chair next to yours. You didn’t extend an invitation towards Anton to take a seat. 

He waits for you to step in. He’s laid the trap by taking off his hoodie even though you kept your room cold, and shuffled his seat closer to yours. He put his elbows on the table next to yours coming closer to the lines you stopped writing on your paper.

He laid the trap. He can see you hesitate, looking from him to the assignment and then back to him. Anton keeps his eyes on the paper, rubbing his fingers over his lips to stop himself from smiling.

“Do you work out?” You asked.

Your voice didn’t have the sultry infliction that girls usually had when they asked him that question. You didn’t reach across and squeeze his toned bicep or shamelessly drag your eyes over his broad shoulders. You asked the question simply, no other intention except for wanting an answer.

“I do. Sometimes.” Anton said.

You only hummed and went back to your paper. Anton scooted closer to you, hoping his Le Labo Lavande 31 and the hand across the back of your chair was invading your space enough for you to really get a good look at him. Anton watched your eyes dart again. You were nervous, eyes wide and Anton felt the rush.

“You smell nice.” You said.

The line was pulled from the trap. You’re caged in and Anton looks to you. He knows about the death grip you have on your pencil, it makes him brave enough to invade your space even more.

“You forgot to write your observations here.” Anton says, trying to make lab reports as sexy as possible. 

This assignment would’ve been abandoned a long time ago. If this was anyone else it would’ve never made it out of their backpack. You were adamant about your work, looking at the tips of his pretty fingers where you left a spot blank. He should have his report out too. He should be writing something just like you try to, instead Anton leans closer and he swears the pencil in your hand is going to break from the pressure. 

Is this how he should’ve been acting with those girls all that time? This is real nerves rolling off your body. The anxiety almost makes Anton nervous by extension, he shivers when he finally lets his hand on the back of your chair touch your body. You stiffen and he’s amazed. You went from being indifferent to being too aware. He feels you back away slightly, but when his hand tightens on your shoulder you lean in. You’re hot and cold, not knowing what you want. He can feel you tremble, and your eyes dart from his eyes to his lips. 

“I’ve never done anything before.”

Anton comes closer. His hand that pointed at a random thing on your paper turns into a fist as he distracts you completely. He brings himself forward until he’s in your line of sight, even when you try so hard to look at anything but him. He smirks when your eyes dart past him, and he fully lets his arm rest across your back. You’re malleable, before you refused to even bend to him but now you move from his slightest touch.

“What do you mean?” He asks. “You’ve never done what before?”

He should go for the nerds more often. The way you already seem sweaty and antsy just from thinking about what is happening makes Anton want to play with you some more. He knows it’s perverse, like a dog playing a smaller animal to death. He wants to see if you’ll twitch, if you’re playing dead just to try and make a run for it. 

“I’ve never—I know that—” Anton raises his eyebrows and nods to each one of your broken statements. “It just seems like—”

“Like what?” He smiles and nudges you. His smile is toothy, yours is tightlipped to a straight line. “C’mon. Talk to me.” He continues.

“You smell really good.” You repeat.

You’re the twitching body of a mouse in his jaws. He just smile and nods at your statement, how you go back to saying old things in an attempt to catch your footing. He forces you to sit in the uncomfortable silence. He waits for you to say something knowing you can’t, he waits for you to touch him even if you’re caught like a deer in the headlights.

“I look good too, right?” He starts drawing shapes on your shoulder.

He’s having too much fun. He’s entertained seeing your intelligence fail you. You’re stumped, you drop your pencil to fully clench your fist. 

The pencil is rolling back and forth on your lab report, the small sound is the only thing that speaks. You’re still desperately trying to figure out how you got into this situation, how one thing led to another so quickly that his hand is reaching underneath the sleeve of your shirt.

“You look good, Anton.” You agree.

“Thanks.” Anton smiles and you do too, averting your eyes and nodding to yourself to feign indifference. Anton looks down to your shirt, still playing with your skin underneath your sleeve. “You do too.” He says.

Another bout of silence. You let yourself be touched, hands still clenched on top of the table. Anton rests his hand on top of your fist, smoothing over the protruding veins trying to coax them open. This is more fulfilling than playing with popular girls. The game still hasn’t ended for him. He’s on the fifth consecutive jackpot when you finally open your mouth again.

“I don’t.” Your hand opens and Anton clasps over it, smiling to himself when it disappears. “I don’t know what you want me to do.” You stutter.

You’re too cute for your own good. Finally you look at him with big eyes and your eyebrows raised. You give into his touches a little more, finally warming up to all the attention. Still your pupils shake, and Anton brings his hand from your shoulder to your face to keep you from turning away.

“Can I make you feel good?” He asks.

You could barely nod before Anton was guiding you up from your chair and backing you towards your bed. He watched you stumble when the back of your legs hit the edge. You looked up at him, your pretty eyes already looking wet. Maybe he really did have a problem. Because he loved seeing them widen in surprise when he put his hands underneath your arms, lifting you up just enough to set you on the edge of your bed. He loved seeing your jostled expression and the tiny yelp when you landed so perfectly on your sheets.

Anton watched you stay in place, catching your breath from the sudden movement. He watched your chest still as his hands went to the bottom of his tank top. He’s grateful to have such a captive audience. There’s no way he can pretend to be shy after this. You’re astonished as he slowly lifts his shirt, and he watched you shamelessly stare at him before you realized he could see you. 

Anton let you eat him alive before he came up to you, until you had to tilt your head upwards to see him. You didn’t dare lift your hands from the bed, like he was going to disappear the moment you touched him. Like he was straight from a dream you only looked up to him, waiting for what he was going to do next. Anton wonders if you thought you’d end up in this position, with him looming over you and his hand creeping to a spot under your chin. He absolutely can’t stop doing this. The view is too pretty, your stillness is addicting. Like you’re too afraid to even breathe too loud in case it’d break the tension. He bends closer to your lips, eyes still open after you screw yours shut. You preemptively grip your mattress for dear life and he can’t help but smile.

He smiles into the kisses, each peck bringing you closer and closer to your mattress. When your back is against the sheets Anton climbs on, refusing the break contact. You look so pretty underneath him, eyes squeezing shut again when another wave of realization hits you. You’ve never been in this position before, with someone like Anton looming over you while still being so sweet. He runs his hand over the apple of your cheek, and fixes your shirt that left your stomach exposed.

“Is this okay?” Anton asks.

He knows it is, because your legs seemed to spread a little bit more and more with each passing second. By the time his hand drifts down to your neck you’re completely open, your soft pants bunching at the place Anton wants to touch you next. The valley of your chest gives him a straight path down, and your bent legs open further.

“Want me to touch you?” He asks.

He knows he’s cruel. You’re metaphorically dead and his face is covered in blood, but still he continues. He’s jumping around your body, reaching out a playful hand like you have the life to play back.

“Please touch me.” You whine pitifully.

Anton presses a chaste kiss to your forehead as his hands work past the elastic band of your pants and underwear. You flinch from his hands, then you preen your hips towards his fingers, then you pull back. He’s mocking when he coos at you, the time pressing a kiss to the side of your head. He almost feels bad. You’re clearly fighting against something, your eyes are shut tight as you press your head into the mattress. Anton tries kissing your eyes open, but it only makes you squeeze them tighter.

With you writhing underneath him, he took the time to look around your room. Your little pegboard above your desk where you had calendar marked with all the important due dates of upcoming assignments. Your neatly placed books and papers, your stuffed animals around your pillows. You didn’t make your bed this morning, instead laying on crumbled sheets and gripping whatever you could get your hands on. Your hand went to Anton’s forearm and clutched it, whimpering something that he couldn’t decipher.

“Does it feel good?” He asks.

You nod, and when Anton tries to pull away he feels your nails dig into his forearm. You seem unaware of what you’re doing, how you’re silently begging him to keep going. You’re just moving underneath him, already beginning to twitch helplessly. Anton purposefully pushes his fingers deeper into your clit until he knows he’s bringing you the smallest amount of pain. He’s pulling the strings, watching your body react to him because you can’t control it. By this point the girls would already be asking him to take his pants off, but you can’t even form a coherent thought. He’s having fun in his jeans, watching you twitch and twist and grip his arm with all your might.

“Anton.”

You flick your hips up and he presses his hand to your hip, pinning you to the bed. You still try to swivel, useless against his strength. He’s intrigued that you aren’t trying to be defiant but you simply can’t help it. All the other girls were pliant immediately, so desperate to please the quiet boy in class they underestimated. You’re defiant because you can’t handle it.

“What’s up?” He asks.

His completely even voice makes you whine. The flush across your cheeks tells him you’re embarrassed, red hot and real unlike his facade.

You don’t answer him. You just dig your nails into his arm and attempt to get his prodding fingers to slide in. He raises his eyebrows at your not-so-subtle attempts to get him to inside of you.

“You want me to finger you?” He asks.

You nod like a good girl and Anton almost feels bad for asking you the question in a mocking tone. He makes up for it by giving you what you want immediately, sucking in a deep breath to match your deep breath. He smiles when he sees you arch off the bed. This is so much more entertaining than anything else. Just two fingers has you making unfiltered noises and gripping the sheets. Anton has to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing, and he has half a mind to ask you if you’re okay in a serious tone. But he just continues driving his fingers into your hole.

He picks up the speed, just to hear the lewd sound you two make. It’s wet, Anton can already feel the mess on the palm of his hand. He pulls your waistband down to your knees, bringing your thighs closer together. He has to fight against your soft thighs clenching around his hand. He’s still able to drive his fingers in and out of your heat. He likes the resistance even though you clearly want more. Anton is surprised when you lift your shirt on your own accord. It’s obvious you’re doing it to relieve some of the heat you feel, but he’s still flattered nonetheless. His hand presses against your stomach, applying force to the lowest part.

“I can’t.” You whimper.

That’s when Anton finally laughs. He chuckles at how panicked you sound and how you turn your head in embarrassment.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks while picking up the speed of his hand.

You nod your head but when Anton tries to pull his hand away you clench your thighs to keep him in place. He chuckles again, situating one legs on the side of your body and the other between your closed legs. He casts a shadow on you below him, and he can see your eyes open the slightest bit from his movements. He drives your legs apart with his knee, and continues pumping that spot deep in you that leaves you shaking your head.

“I can’t.” You whimper.

“You can.” Anton sees your eyes open, wide and staring directly at him as he drives your legs apart further. “You’re so close.” He says.

Your entire body moves from the speed of his fingers. Even your chests jumps underneath your shirt, and he wants to lift it up to reveal the rest of you. He lets you take it at your own pace since you’re giving him so much already. He just pinches and grabs a handful of your stomach, marveling in how soft you are.

“So cute.” Anton coos. “You had no idea, right?” He asks.

You shake your head and you don’t stop shaking it, like you’re trying to will away your impeding orgasm. Anton watches all of it. He’s never had a pretty girl twitch for him so much, or reach a greedy hand up to grip your chest. Something you do when you’re close, something he wants to do for you. His hand superimposes yours, and grips harder too. You’re arching into his palm and preening your hips on his fingers, and then he watches your body go rigid.

“You’re cumming.” Anton teases.

Your whimpering yes rips through the room, and Anton feels wound up himself. He has to set his sights on something else. Pretty confident girls are fun, but seeing your shame manifest in the way you push and pull at him is much more intoxicating. He likes that he knows what you want but you’re too scared to say it, it’s your body that has to act on its own to fulfill your needs. When you continue going, and your strangled moans turn to broken oh my God’s and your legs start shaking, Anton knows he won’t be able to get enough. He keeps pushing you further because he knows you can take it, and you continue whimpering. He doesn’t stop until you sound panicked, and your hand starts pushing his away.

He still looks down at you with a smile on his face. Your head is turned towards your fluffy comforter, exhaling and inhaling so hard you move the fur with your breath. He’s satisfied seeing what he’s done to you, and he’s even more amused when you turn your head to face him.

Your eyes are wide, your lips are swollen and slick from your mindless drooling. Anton feels something in his chest when your eyes move past his body to the prominent bulge in his pants. He’s a step ahead, shaking his head and moving back to rest on his haunches. That comes later, when he plays with you some more and you start voicing how badly you want to please him. When you reach your hand towards his crotch Anton grabs your hand instead, intertwining your fingers.

“I just wanted to make you feel good.” He says.

He’s a sweetheart, after all.

[ruewrote]

𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑔𝑜.

PAIRING: jj maybank x fem!reader WARNINGS: jealously, arguments, no use of y/n GENRE: angst SONG INSPIRATION: is there someone else? by the weeknd WORD COUNT: 4.1k REQUESTED: yes NOTE: can you tell that me breaking no contact didn't go well?

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you were tired. not the kind of tired you could fix with a good night’s sleep or an extra cup of coffee. 

no, this was deeper. heavier. it had been weighing on you for months, maybe longer, and no matter how much you told yourself you were done.

that this time would be the last, you always found yourself right back where you started, with jj.

it wasn’t the kissing that made you feel this way, not exactly. you liked kissing him. god, you loved kissing him. the way his lips tasted faintly of weed and beer, the way he held you like you were the only thing grounding him. 

the way his stupid grin would soften just for you, his cocky bravado melting into something almost vulnerable. for a few fleeting hours, it felt like everything you wanted, everything you’d dreamed of since the first time you realised how deep your feelings for him ran.

but it was never real. not when the alcohol was buzzing in his veins, not when he whispered things he’d never say in the harsh light of day. “you know it’s always been you, right?” his voice would crack sometimes, and you’d feel your heart breaking and healing all at once. 

or there’d be the quiet, desperate promises. “one day, i’m gonna do right by you. i swear.” and for a moment, you’d believe him.

you always believed him.

but then the sun would rise, and jj would be gone. not gone in the literal sense. no, he’d still be around, cracking jokes, causing trouble, being him. but it was like the version of him you got in the middle of the night didn’t exist in the daylight. 

instead, you’d see him with someone else, his arm slung around some girl, his attention completely absorbed by her like you’d never even crossed his mind.

it wasn’t just one time. it wasn’t even a few times. it was a pattern, and it was breaking you. because as much as you wanted to hate him for it, you couldn’t. you couldn’t hate him for being who he was, for not giving you the thing you so desperately wanted but he so clearly wasn’t ready to give.

you hated the way you let him in, over and over again. the way you believed the things he said, even when he never followed through on them. you hated the way your heart sped up when he looked at you, even though you knew that look wouldn’t last. 

you hated the way your chest ached every time you saw him with someone else, the way you had to swallow the lump in your throat and force a smile like it didn’t matter.

but it did matter. it mattered too much.

so, you told yourself you were done. this time, for real. no more stolen kisses, no more whispered promises. no more jj.

moving on wasn’t easy, though. it wasn’t like you could just flip a switch and stop caring. but you tried. you told yourself it was okay to look at other guys, to flirt a little, to remind yourself that there were people out there who might actually be able to give you what jj couldn’t.

at first, it felt hollow. empty. none of the guys you talked to really clicked, and you started to wonder if you were just wasting your time. but then there was jackson.

jackson wasn’t like jj. he didn’t have that wild spark, that untamed energy that drew people in. but maybe that was a good thing. because jackson was steady. reliable. the kind of guy who made you feel safe instead of uncertain.

he wasn’t one for grand gestures or flashy moves. but he was thoughtful in ways that caught you off guard. like when he texted you first thing in the morning, asking how you slept. or when he remembered little things about you. your favorite coffee order, the song you hummed under your breath when you thought no one was listening.

and maybe the chemistry wasn’t instant. maybe there weren’t fireworks or that pull you’d always felt with jj. but there was something else. something quieter. something warmer.

still, there were moments when doubt crept in. 

late at night, when your phone buzzed and you half hoped it was him. even though you knew it wouldn’t be. or when you caught yourself comparing the two of them, wondering if you’d ever feel the same fire you felt for jj with someone else.

the doubt lingered. refusing to leave no matter how much you tried to shake it. 

the room had quieted down, the hum of conversation replaced by the soft rustling of the evening. the others had scattered. pope was buried in his notes on the porch, sarah and john b had disappeared into the twinkie for some ‘alone time,’ and kie had made herself scarce, muttering something about a late-night walk.

that left just you and jj, sprawled on opposite ends of the couch. you had tucked yourself into the corner, scrolling through your phone, a quiet giggle escaping your lips now and then. it wasn’t intentional, but each laugh seemed to draw jj’s attention, his eyes flickering toward you.

“what’s so funny over there?” he finally asked, his tone light but laced with curiosity.

you glanced up at him briefly, your lips still tugged into a soft smile. "nothing," you said casually, shrugging as you turned your attention back to your phone.

he shifted, sitting up slightly, leaning toward you, his eyebrows raised. "nah, come on. don’t give me that. who’s got you giggling like that? share with the class."

you hesitated, your fingers tightening around your phone as you debated whether or not to answer. you weren’t doing anything wrong, not really, but something about admitting you were texting jackson felt... complicated.

"it’s just jackson," you said finally, keeping your tone light. "he sent me something funny."

jj froze for a split second, so brief you might have missed it if you weren’t paying attention. but then he leaned back, his smirk slipping into place. "oh, jackson, huh?" he drawled, his voice dripping with something that wasn’t quite teasing but wasn’t far from it either. 

"what’s he got you laughing about? some dad joke or something?"

you rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way his sudden shift made your stomach twist. "it’s not a big deal, jayj," you said, shrugging again. "just a funny meme. relax."

"relax? i’m totally relaxed," he shot back, but there was an edge to his voice now, subtle but obvious to you. he stretched out on the couch, his arm draping over the back, his eyes fixed on you. "i mean, good for you, right? jackson seems like... a solid guy."

you could feel the tension creeping into the air between you, and you hated it. you hated how jj could make something so small feel so heavy, how his words, his tone, could tangle you up inside even when you tried so hard not to let them.

"yeah, he is," you said quietly, your eyes still on your phone. "he’s nice."

"nice," jj repeated, the word rolling off his tongue like it left a bad taste in his mouth. "that’s great. real exciting."

you looked up at him then, your gaze meeting his, and for a moment, the cocky mask he wore slipped. there was something raw in his eyes, something he couldn’t quite hide no matter how hard he tried.

"why do you care?" you asked softly, the question hanging between you.

he opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again, his jaw tightening. for a moment, it looked like he might actually say something real, something honest. but then he shook his head, his smile sliding back into place.

"i don’t," he said with a shrug, his voice light and breezy. "just curious, that’s all. you know me, always gotta know what’s going on."

but you weren’t convinced, and from the way he avoided your eyes, you knew he wasn’t either.

you turned back to your phone, trying to focus on jackson’s message, but jj’s presence was impossible to ignore. the warmth of his presence, the way his leg brushed against yours when he shifted. everything about him pulled at you, even when you didn’t want it to.

the tension had been building for days, his snide comments had started small. barely noticeable jabs that you brushed off with a roll of your eyes. but they didn’t stop. every interaction seemed to carry a sharper edge, a hidden layer of something he wouldn’t address. and while he never said anything outright about what had been between you, it was there, unspoken, colouring every word that left his mouth.

by the end of the week, it had become unbearable.

you were sitting at home, sprawled on your bed with the tv on for background noise, trying to find some semblance of peace. but jj had shown up unannounced, like he always did, at first, he just hovered, pacing around your room, muttering something about john b, then pope, then kie. and when that didn’t hold his attention, he turned his focus to you.

"really?" he scoffed, nodding toward your phone. "let me guess, you’re texting jackson. again."

you froze, your grip on the phone tightening as your pulse spiked. he was baiting you. again, but this time, you weren’t in the mood to play along. "what’s your problem, jj?" you said, not looking up.

"my problem?" he said, his voice cutting as his eyes flicked over you. "i don’t have a problem. just didn’t realise you were into guys who need a manual to figure you out. guess you finally found someone slow enough to keep up."

that was it. that was the breaking point.

you stood up so fast your phone fell onto the floor, your chest heaving as you rounded on him. "what the hell is wrong with you?" you snapped, your voice louder than you’d intended. 

"you’ve been like this all week, taking cheap shots, acting like a total asshole. why? because i’m trying to move on? because i’m finally doing something for myself instead of waiting around for you to get your shit together?"

jj blinked, startled by the sudden outburst, but his defenses went up just as quickly. his jaw tightened, and he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back slightly. "i don’t know what you’re talking about," he said, his voice colder now. "i’m just calling it like i see it."

"calling it like you see it?" you repeated, your voice shaking with anger. "no, jj. you’re being a coward. you can’t handle the fact that i’m not waiting around for you anymore, so you’re lashing out like some jealous boyfriend. grow up!"

"jealous?" he scoffed, his laugh bitter. "of jackson? please. the guy you’re settling for?”

"stop it," you snapped, your voice breaking slightly. "just stop. you don’t get to do this. you don’t get to act like this when you’re the one who’s been stringing me along for months. you don’t get to pick and choose when to care about me. you either want me, jj, or you don’t. but i can’t keep doing this with you."

for a moment, the room was silent, your words hanging heavy in the air between you. jj’s expression flickered, his mask slipping for just a second, and you saw something raw in his eyes. guilt. pain. maybe even regret. but it wasn’t enough. not this time.

"that’s what i thought," you said, your voice quieter now but still stern. "you can’t even say it, can you? you can’t admit that you don’t want me, but you can’t stand the thought of someone else making me happy either. that’s not love, jj. that’s just being selfish."

he opened his mouth to say something, but you didn’t give him the chance. you shook your head, turning away from him as tears stung the corners of your eyes. "just go," you said, your voice trembling. "i can’t do this anymore."

but he didn’t move. he stayed frozen in the same spot, staring at you, like he was waiting for something.

you whipped around to face him, your hands shaking. "why the hell are you still here?" you snapped, fury rising in your chest. "are you really just gonna stand there? if you won’t leave, then i will."

without another word, you turned and stormed down the stairs, the adrenaline making your steps faster, sharper. you grabbed the door, slamming it behind you so hard the house seemed to tremble. 

you didn’t stop. your feet pounded the pavement, the cool night air biting at your skin, but you didn’t care. in all your anger, you hadn’t even grabbed a jacket, and now the chill of the night was cutting through you. 

you found yourself heading to the beach without even thinking. the sound of the waves crashing against the shore was distant, muffled by the pounding of your pulse in your ears.

you reached the sand, and collapsed down, too exhausted to care about the discomfort. the wind howled around you, you pulled your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them as if you could hold yourself together that way. 

the tears that had been threatening for so long finally broke free, flooding down your cheeks as the full weight of it hit you.

you couldn’t stop the sobs, each one shaking through your body. it felt like every bit of the anger, the hurt, the confusion, and the love you had poured into jj over the months came crashing down all at once. it wasn’t fair.

none of it was. you had given him everything, trusted him, believed his empty promises, and now... you were sitting alone on the beach in the dark, freezing cold, with nothing left but the ache in your chest.

you buried your face into your knees, the salt of your tears mixing with the salt of the ocean breeze, as you let the emptiness swallow you whole.

the tears had stopped, but they clung to your skin, leaving long streaks down your cheeks. your eyes were swollen, your lips tender and raw from the sobbing, and you just sat there, numb, staring out at the dark expanse of the ocean. 

the waves crashed relentlessly, matching the rhythm of the ache inside you, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. 

you had no idea how much time had passed. minutes? hours? the world felt like it had gone quiet around you, just you and the ocean. and then, the sound of footsteps. at first, you didn’t acknowledge it. 

you figured it was just the wind or some passing stranger, but the steps grew closer. you held your breath, the space around you suddenly feeling claustrophobic, like everything in you knew who was coming, even before you saw him.

the sound of a thud broke the silence as someone sat down beside you. you turned slowly, the muscles in your neck aching, but there he was. of course, it was him.

for a moment, all you could do was stare, the disbelief hitting you. your chest tightened again, and before you could stop it, a tear slipped down your cheek. you wiped it away angrily, but it didn't matter. the damage was already done.

a bitter, humourless laugh escaped you, the sound raw and broken. "why can’t you just leave me alone?" you muttered, the words barely audible. you tried to look away, but your eyes wouldn’t shift from him. 

you hated the way your heart twisted at the sight of him, even now, even after everything.

jj didn’t say anything at first, just sitting there beside you, his presence heavy. you could feel his gaze on you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet it. the silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken things.

you glanced back over to him to find his own eyes were swollen, lips and nose tinged pink from what you could only guess were from his own breakdown, his hands still trembling as they rested at his sides. 

you hated how, despite all the pain he’d caused, you still found him pretty in this moment. the vulnerability in him, the way he wore his brokenness so openly, it made your chest ache. it was the last thing you wanted to feel. 

he didn’t speak. neither did you. it felt like you were both waiting for the other to break first. but it wasn’t until the sound of the waves crashing against the shore felt too deafening that he finally spoke, his voice cracked, raw.

“i… i’m sorry," he began, voice thick with something like regret. "i’ve been a fucking idiot, okay? i know i have. and i don’t know how to fix it. i don’t know what i’m doing, or what i’ve done to you… but i need you to know that it’s not because i don’t care.”

his words were stuttering, full of shame, but the way he said it, the way his hands fidgeted, his desperation was impossible to ignore.

“i–god, i fucked this up, didn’t i? i… i always do this. i push, i pull, i make you feel like shit, and then… then i can’t stand the thought of losing you. but every time you walk away, i don’t know how to make you stay. i never know what the right thing to say is, and i just... i just hurt you again and again. i’m so fucking sorry."

you were still staring out at the ocean, fighting the hurt that sat heavy in your chest, fighting the urge to listen to the softness in his voice, to hear him out. but you couldn’t. not yet.

“i’m not asking for your forgiveness,” he said, his voice breaking. “i don’t deserve it. but i need you to know how much i fucking care about you. more than i know how to say. more than i can ever show. it’s like i don’t know what to do with it, so i make everything worse. but you–you matter to me more than anything else in my stupid fucking life. and if you can find it in you to forgive me... if you can just look at me the way you used to, i’ll do anything. i swear, i’ll do whatever it takes.”

his voice was softer now, quieter, almost pleading as he inched closer to you on the sand, his face full of regret. his eyes searched yours, desperate to find any trace of warmth, any sign that you still cared.

“i’m begging you,” he said, his voice trembling. “please. i can’t lose you. i can’t. i know i fucked up, but please. give me the chance to make it right. please don’t walk away from me. not like this.”

the words hung in the air between you, his desperate plea reverberating in the cold night as you sat there, trembling from the weight of it all. your chest felt tight, the pain of everything that had happened pressing on you, threatening to suffocate you. 

his words reached you, pierced through the numbness you had been trying to build around yourself. but you weren’t ready yet, not ready to let go of the anger, the hurt. you wanted to stay mad at him, wanted to keep your distance, to protect yourself.

but you couldn’t.

you felt the floodgates open, and the dam you’d so carefully built up around your heart cracked, letting the years of suppressed feelings break free in one overwhelming rush.

the tears came first, unbidden, streaking down your cheeks as your breath caught in your throat. you wiped at your face, trying to hold it together, but the weight of everything, the heartache that had built up for so long, was impossible to ignore. you turned toward him, your voice shook as you spoke, barely a whisper at first.

“you don’t get it,” you said, the rawness in your voice making it hard to speak. “you don’t get how much i wanted this… how much i wanted you.”

your hands were trembling now, your heart hammering as the words poured out, no longer able to keep them locked inside. “i’ve been holding on to this... this stupid hope, waiting for you to realise how i feel. but i couldn’t do it anymore, jj. i couldn’t keep waiting for you to come around. for you to see me. to see us. every time i tried to let you in, you pushed me away. every time you said you cared, i believed you, and you made me feel like an idiot for it."

you paused, trying to steady your breath as your chest tightened again. 

“i kept telling myself i was done. that i was over it. that i could move on. but every time i saw you with someone else, every time you pulled away, it tore me apart. it felt like i was drowning in it, jj. and i kept asking myself why i kept putting myself through that, why i kept letting you hurt me. but the truth is, i can’t stop wanting you. i can’t stop needing you.”

you took a shaky breath, your eyes brimming with tears again, but this time, they felt different. this time, they were from the depths of everything you’d been holding back. the fear. the hurt. the longing.

“i can’t do it anymore,” you whispered. “i need you. i’ve needed you for so long, but you never, never, let me be close enough. and it’s breaking me. it has been for so long.”

"i don’t want to be this broken, desperate person anymore," you continued, the tears coming faster now. "i can’t keep waiting for you to make up your mind. but god… god, i need you to choose me. i need you to finally see me. not as some game, not as someone you can just toss aside when it's not convenient for you anymore. i need to know you’re here for me. that you want me too.”

you looked up at him then, your heart in your throat, his eyes were wide, filled with a mix of guilt, pain. “i need you, jj,” you said again, your voice barely more than a whisper now. "i don’t care if it’s messy. i don’t care if it’s hard. i just need to know you’re here… that you’re really here."

the weight of it all hung in the air between you, and you felt exposed. but for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t care about hiding anymore. you were done pretending you didn’t need him. done pretending you could walk away from what had been growing between you for so long.

he reached out, tentatively at first, like he was scared you’d pull away. his fingers brushed against yours, a gentle touch that seemed to break the tension in the air.

“hey… hey, look at me.” his voice was softer than you had ever heard it, like he was trying to steady himself, trying to make sure he didn’t fuck this up. he moved closer to you, his other hand resting carefully on your cheek, wiping away a tear with the pad of his thumb.

“i’m here,” he said, his voice low, but full of conviction now. “i’m right here, and i’ve always been here, in my messed up way. i know i’ve hurt you. i know i’ve been a fucking idiot. i don’t deserve you, but damn it, i’m not going anywhere. i don’t want anyone else. it’s always been you, even when i was too stupid to admit it to myself. but i’m not afraid anymore.”

he let out a shaky breath, and you could see how real he was being. it wasn’t just the guilt on his face anymore; it was something else, something pure. it was like he was finally letting himself be vulnerable with you, really showing you what he’d been hiding all this time.

“i’m so sorry for making you feel like you had to fight for me,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “i should’ve chosen you from the start. i should’ve seen you. really seen you, for who you are. not just the person who’s always there when i need them. you’re more than that. you always have been.”

his forehead pressed gently against yours, and you could feel his breath mingling with yours. his hand moved to your back, pulling you closer, as if he was afraid that if he let you go, you’d slip away forever.

“i need you too,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. “i’m not perfect. i’m never gonna be perfect. but i’ll spend the rest of my life showing you how much you mean to me. because you are my choice. always. you’re all i want.”

the warmth of his words, the tenderness in his touch, broke something open in you, you allowed yourself to lean into him fully. 

all the walls you had built around your heart started to crumble, piece by piece.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

© ruewrote 2024.

[sky-scribbles]

Party Banter with Rook!Blackwall

Harding: You know, for a moment back there, I thought you might actually get through to Solas.

Thom: Regret’s something we have in common. I thought… if I reached out to him, told him I understood what guilt drives you to do…

Harding: But no. ‘Do not compare your regrets with mine, Thom Rainier!’

Thom: He’s right, though. He can at least say he did his crimes trying to stop tyrants. I did mine for coin.

Harding: Uh, yeah, and then you faced up to it and decided no one else was going to get hurt for it except you. Solas is right. He’s nothing like you.

—

Lucanis: Do we have a problem, Warden Rainier?

Thom: You kill people. For gold.

Lucanis: I do. Venatori. Blood mages. The political rivals of those who hired me.

Thom: And that’s enough for you? Someone flashes a purse, and you’re ready to murder over some nobles’ spat over which of them gets the bigger fancy house?

Lucanis: Depends on the size of the purse.

—

Bellara: Um, so, about the mayor of D'Meta's Crossing? I just… do you really want someone like that? In the Wardens, I mean.

Thom: I won’t defend him. But he wouldn’t be the first Warden who let innocent people die for gold, and got another chance from the Order.

Bellara: He doesn’t deserve it. Like, really, really doesn’t deserve it.

Thom: No. Neither did I.

—

Thom: Do you ever get people trying to bribe you? To look the other way, or drop a case, or...

Neve: It's Minrathous. If I took even half the bribes I've been offered, I could buy an estate in Hightown.

Thom: It takes a special kind of strength to resist that.

—

Thom: I got a letter from Sera the other day. Don’t ask me how she got it to the Lighthouse.

Harding: ‘Friends’, I bet. And hey - she dealt with the Fade for you! So what'd she say?

Thom: Well, there was a lot of calling Solas a shite-faced arseknuckle. And then she told me not to get killed, or she’d yank my beard ‘til my head came off.

Harding: Aw.

—

Lucanis: Rainier, I do not knife civilians. Everyone I have killed has been embedded in politics. Their hands are never clean.

Thom: And you're sure you’ve never made a mistake? Never got a passer-by or a child caught in all the blades and arrows? Never gone in without knowing everything, and got someone hurt?

Lucanis: Of course not. I’m a professional.

Thom: You’re a mercenary with a cape.

—

Thom: You could’ve left Dock Town. A mage. Talented. You could’ve gone anywhere, chased a better life.

Neve: If I left, I’d be abandoning people who never got that choice. I’m good where I’m at.

Thom: I hope you know how admirable that makes you.

Neve: Not that admirable. If I got that estate in Hightown? Too far to walk to Hal’s fish stand.

Thom: (laughs) Good priorities.

—

Davrin: So, Rainier. Heard a lot of rumours about how you joined the Wardens.

Thom: (uneasy noise) You know, Warden Blackwall told me your past gets forgotten after the Joining.

Davrin: A nice ideal, but it never stands up to the gossip. But you’ve shown your worth.

Thom: Enough for me to have one of those griffons when we rescue them, d’you reckon?

Davrin: (laughs) We’ll see.

—

Thom: I knew someone like Manfred once. He was a spirit, but he sort of… grew his own body.

Emmrich: Oh! A spontaneous incarnation! Do you happen to know what kind of spirit he was?

Thom: Uh… the kind that looks like a young man, but reads minds and flits about trying to make everyone feel better about themselves?

Emmrich: Ah, Compassion! A rather more advanced emotion than Curiosity, and therefore capable of manifesting a physical body, rather than needing to adopt a vacant one.

Thom: More advanced? Right. That explains why Cole used to talk to me about living with the weight of regret, and Manfred spent ten minutes yesterday poking my face to see if my beard came off.

—

Neve: So, you know Dorian?

Thom: Does anyone who’s been in the same room as him for thirty seconds get a choice about knowing Dorian?

Neve: And didn’t always get along, I take it.

Thom: He’s… he’s not so bad. We might’ve judged each other by first impressions back when we met.

Neve: And what’s your impression now?

Blackwall: Still too fancy for his own good. But it says exactly who he is that he’s fighting against slavers and blood mages. I think I got the better deal with the darkspawn.

—

Taash: I heard the Inquisitor turned into a dragon.

Thom: No, she… didn’t. But she did get one to fight with us once.

Taash: She did? What kind? How’d she do it?

Thom: Sort of… gold? And she drank from this pool of elven magic, and… that somehow let her ask it to help us. I think.

Taash: Did she ride it into battle?

Thom: Uh… No.

Taash: Oh. I would’ve ridden it into battle.

—

Thom: Emmrich, do you know what those demons were the other day? The ones that wouldn’t leave me alone?

Emmrich: Ah. Those were manifestations of Shame. A variant of the Despair spirit.

Thom: Right. Don’t know what I expected.

Emmrich: If it’s any consolation, I find that one can tell much more about a person from the more benign spirits that gather around them. I catch glimpses of them about you often. Valour. Fortitude. Honour.

Thom: I hope to be worthy of them.

—

Thom: Lucanis, have you ever regretted any of your kills?

Lucanis: Not so far.

Thom: So this is what you’re fine with being? A man who takes nobles’ money and lives in luxury with your bloodied hands? That's the life you chose?

Lucanis: Not ‘chose’, exactly. It is what I was trained to be since my childhood.

Thom: Wait. You were – who trains a child to be an assassin?

Lucanis: You met my grandmother.

—

Davrin: You held up pretty well in the last fight, Rainier. For an old man.

Thom: Whelp like you’d better watch what he says around a senior Warden.

Davrin: Why? You’ll tell me to do the fifty press-ups that your creaky bones can’t handle?

Thom (laughs) I’ll stop letting you borrow my best chisel.

—

Bellara: Hey, um, Thom? You know that little rocking griffon you made? Could you make, I don’t know, a bigger one? Like… adult… person-sized?

Thom: (chuckles) You never have a rocking griffon growing up?

Bellara: No! They’re not a Dalish thing! Because you can’t really rock. When the aravel’s moving, I mean. So… no, it’s a dumb idea. Forget I said anything.

Thom: You want me to make it a rocking halla?

Bellara: Yes please thank you.

—

Emmrich: How far you must have travelled, with both the Inquisition and the Wardens!

Thom: I like being on the road. Keeps a man honest.

Emmrich: I rather envy your fearlessness of the wider world. It’s so recent that the end of the Circles allowed me to travel freely outside the Necropolis.

Thom: Must have been freeing. Having the whole world suddenly open to you.

Emmrich: And rather overwhelming, I must admit. When I compare myself to you – a brave Warden, combatting the Blight across all of Thedas…

Thom: Trust me: compare the two of us, and that’s the only way I’ll come out better from it.

—

Thom: We fought quite a few dragons in the Inquisition. Almost got eaten once by some pissed-off beast in the Hinterlands. Kept throwing its dragonlings at us.

Taash: Fereldan Frostbacks are crappy mothers. First sign of trouble, and it’s ‘here! Take my children!’

Thom: (laughs) The worst was the lightning-spitter off the Storm Coast. Spent twenty minutes hacking away at its scales, rest of my team unconscious on the ground.

Taash: Wait - you what? That's not how you fight dragons. You can't just stand there and hit them. That's stupid. And boring.

—

Lucanis: It’s how the Crow Houses work. Children of the House lineage are trained from our infancy.

Thom: Andraste’s fucking tits.

Lucanis: It’s necessary. If Illario and I had been coddled… Caterina pushed us hard and young, because she wanted us to survive.

Thom: I don’t… (sighs) The things people do to children.

—

Harding: I never thought to ask - how come Varric changed your nickname?

Thom: I asked him to go with something else. 'Hero'... that was a name he gave to Blackwall.

Harding: Well, he chose the right name. You know, 'cause Rooks move in straight lines. And you charge right in there, don't mess around with fancy words, just hit things til they drop. You could say you're -

Thom: Don't do it, Lace.

Harding: Straightforward.

Thom: (chuckles) You're as bad as Sera.

—

Emmrich: Master Rainier, I wanted to say – I hope you know that you’re the only person here who looks at you with any harshness.

Thom: I – (sighs) You don’t know everything about me.

Emmrich: I would never claim to. But I know that you place yourself before your allies and the defenceless without hesitation and with utter selflessness. I know you understand your Warden oath better than many of your superiors. I know that you are a good man.

Thom: … I wish I knew what it was like to be you. Seeing the good in everyone, living or dead.

Emmrich: Then I hope you’ll permit me continue to see the good in you – until you can see yourself as I do.

[startanewdream]

Why would I think you're weak? Everyone gets nightmares."

For hinny, preferably Ginny is the one with the nightmare

Please and thank you

hope you enjoy this sort-of missing moment that could have been:

*******

Harry walked absently to the Room of Requirement. It was still early, but he enjoyed arranging the room ahead of the D.A. lesson; for today, their first real class about the Patronus Charm, he had the idea of filling the room with mirrors so people could look at themselves while they worked the spell. As he reached the usual entrance to the Room, however, he realized he wasn’t the only one who had started early.

The door was already there, even before he asked for it.

He entered carefully, just in case someone had inadvertently found out about Dumbledore’s Army. The room seemed empty — until he noticed a figure in the farthest corner. For a moment, his stomach dropped, remembering the last time he had been there alone with someone — he and Cho weren’t really speaking these days, avoiding each other’s gaze after the disastrous Valentine’s Day date —, but the sight of vivid red hair told him it was someone else.

Ginny hadn’t seen him. She was facing the warm fireplace that was always lit, mumbling to herself. Her eyes narrowed in a fierce expression as she moved her wand; nothing happened, and she sighed unhappily, stooping her feet and looking up to the ceiling—now enchanted, like the Great Hall, to reveal the day sky above. 

Harry caught himself staring at her; it wasn’t the first time he’d done so, not with him teaching the D.A. Ginny’s spellwork had always impressed him; he remembered George once telling him that size was no guarantee of power when talking about Ginny, and though Harry hadn’t witnessed her famous Bat Bogey Hex yet, he could see what George had meant. Ginny had a strong raw power; even though she was still in her Fourth Year, she’d had no problem mastering any OWL-level spell Harry had shown the class. He would often compare her with her boyfriend, her usual duelling partner, and more than once Harry had thought she deserved someone better—he hadn’t said it out loud, but Michael Corner had looked quite bland—

“Ow!”

Ginny’s voice startled Harry. For a crazy moment, he’d thought she’d read his mind and was mad at him—then he realised she looked sheepish. 

“Sorry, I thought I was alone.”

Harry shook his head. “You were, I just came in. Are you practising?”

Ginny flushed as she nodded; it suddenly occurred to Harry that it had been a while since he’d seen that. It was weird seeing her looking flustered when she had been nothing but bright around him.

“You know, I appreciate the effort, but I cannot give you house points.”

As he had a feeling she would, Ginny chuckled.

“Prat,” she called without any malice. “Sorry, I meant Professor Prat.”

Harry smiled. “Much better.” Then he tilted his head. “What were you doing? You didn’t have any problem with the Shield Spell last class.”

“Ah.” She bit her lip. Harry had a sudden urge to ask her to stop it before she drew blood. “The Patronus Charm.”

That made him blink, suddenly aware he had been looking at her mouth.

“Patronus?” He repeated, startled. “We are just getting started.”

“Yeah, but…” Ginny took a deep breath. “It annoyed me that I couldn’t cast it.”

“It was just our first lesson—I mean, not even a lesson, it was just a lecture.” 

It had been the final part of the last D.A. lesson, last week. Satisfied that everyone seemed to have mastered the Shield Spell, Harry had started the Patronus Charm, the one spell everyone was excited about. He hadn’t much time, so he’d decided to explain the theory behind the charm — the first time he’d talked more than show any spell, and rather than seem annoyed, everyone had eagerly listened to him. He had given everyone some sort of homework — to think about their happiest memory — and, in the last five minutes of the lesson, he’d let everyone try the Patronus Charm for the first time.

A few people had managed a silvery wisp, nothing resembling any shape or that lasted more than two seconds. 

“Every time I try, nothing happens.”

“I don’t think anyone can cast it in their first attempt,” Harry said. When Ginny raised her eyebrows, he added, “I didn’t.”

“How many lessons did it take you?”

“A lot,” he answered truthfully. 

Her expression didn’t change. “You were thirteen when you first learnt it.”

“And I had Professor Lupin giving me private lessons. All you got… is me.”

She rolled her eyes. “You are an amazing teacher.”

“I think you are comparing me to Umbridge, so—”

“Stop it.” She patted his arm playfully; her hand was warm. “You know you are a decent teacher, come on.”

“I noticed the downgrade from amazing to decent.”

A grin appeared in her lips as if she couldn’t help herself; Harry smiled in answer. He enjoyed her reaction.

“See, that’s better—you cannot try the Patronus Charm if you are all gloomy.”

“I wasn’t gloomy.”

“You were stomping your feet.”

“Maybe I had an itch.”

“Did you?”

“No,” Ginny admitted, and then she threw herself on one big bean couch that had just appeared behind her. “I’m really frustrated.”

Harry gave her a bracing smile as he sank on the couch next to her. “It was just your first try.”

“I got every other spell. Maybe it wasn’t perfect, but something happened.” She waved her wand absently, not seeming to notice the sparkling dust that she was casting. “Now I could yell Expecto Patronum until I lost my voice and this wand wouldn’t be more useful than a random stick.”

“I get it,” he said bracingly. “I was disappointed with myself when it didn’t improve the way I wanted—but there is no secret, you just need to keep trying.”

“It is as if I can’t get it right—every spell I try, even when I don’t cast it, I can feel it, the connection between me and my wand. But the Patronus just eludes me.”

“What memory are you using?” Harry asked before he could think it through. He smiled awkwardly. “Sorry, I know it’s personal.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s not working anyway, so—” Ginny shrugged. “I thought about when I got my Hogwarts letter. I dreamed of it since I was two—” She caught sight of Harry’s face. “What?”

“That’s what I remembered the first time I managed something. It was just this silver shadow, but—”

“But it was a start.” Ginny sighed. “I’m not even hoping for a full corporeal Patronus, just one that gets the dementors far away from me.”

She shivered, her face whitening so much that Harry felt he could count the freckles on her cheek. 

For a moment that distracted him, until a long-distant memory resurfaced. He was thirteen and recovering after meeting a dementor for the first time; he’d just fainted, but the worst part had been hearing a woman’s scream. He hadn’t been in the best condition, so he hadn’t really noticed the small girl quietly sobbing in the corner of the train, looking just as pale as now—he’d never asked what Ginny had heard, but now he got a good idea…

“You had forgotten.” He blinked. Ginny was grimacing. “You are not the only one who hears You-Know-Who when dementors are around.”

“That was not what… I never considered what you would remember.” He bit his lip. “Sorry.”

“What are you sorry for? You saved me. I was the one stupid enough to get involved with a Dark Lord.”

“You were not involved, I mean—you didn’t know who he was.” He met her gaze. “And I am sorry for forgetting what you went through. I guess it was just easier to think everything was all right.”

Harry remembered the final days of that term, when he had watched Ginny closer; after a moment’s struggle, she had looked happy, a bright version of the girl that had slowly shrinked that year. Even her brothers were visibly relieved that Ginny seemed to move on. At some point, Harry had just stopped looking for any distress sign.

Ginny sighed. “I know. That’s how I wanted you to perceive me. Not as the weak girl who couldn’t sleep at night because of her nightmares.”

“You are not weak. Why would I—why would anyone think so?”

“I still dream—”

“Everyone gets nightmares.” He thought about a graveyard, a cruel laugh, and a boy’s dead eyes. “It’s just a reminder that we survived. You survived.”

“Only because you—”

“Because you fought Riddle long enough to give me time to get there. You were eleven.”

“Saying like this makes me look stronger than I was.”

“You were strong. You are strong.” He took a deep breath. “I’m not saying this to excuse myself, but I forgot about you and Voldemort because I can’t see it when I look at you. You went through one of the worst things that any human could experience—I know how I felt just by thinking I was possessed—and yet you are here now, casting every spell, destroying those Death Eater dummies, and getting a reputation for that Bat Bogey Hex that I have yet to witness.”

He felt suddenly self-conscious of his speech, but Ginny was smiling softly now, and Harry just reminded himself that he was the teacher, he could be motivating even if it involved personal stuff. In any case, even her eyes were shining now, warmer; Ginny’s eyes were a nice shade of brown, like treacle tart.

“Let’s find Umbridge,” she suggested at last. “Then you can witness my Bat Bogey Hex, it will be epic.”

Harry chuckled. “I don’t doubt it, but I don’t think you’d want to be expelled.”

“I’d only be if I got caught,” she noted, winking at him. Then Ginny jumped, leaving a soft trace of flowers on the couch. “I’m going to get this.”

She closed her eyes, her expression confident. Harry couldn’t know what she was remembering, but a breeze filled the room, coming out of nowhere, and made Ginny’s hair move as if she was flying. Then Ginny opened her eyes —they were blazing—, flourished her wand and whispered, “Expecto Patronum!”

A silver shadow flew from her wand, dashing around the room before disappearing. It wasn’t shaped yet, but Harry could swear he saw a long snout and a floating mane.

“Yes!” She cried happily, beaming at Harry; for a moment, he thought she was going to hug him — he even opened his arms — but Ginny didn’t move. “It was something!”

“It was a perfect start,” he told her, jumping to his feet. Ginny looked bright now, and he didn’t think it was just an act. “What do you think it will be? Your patronus?”

“No idea. I think it had hooves.” She smirked. “It won’t be a stag, though, I’m hoping to be original here.”

Harry just smiled. “It’s my father. I mean, the stag represents my father. It’s a long story, I’ll tell you later.”

“Ok.” She nodded, watching him, her expression sober now. “I remembered the first time I took flight on a broomstick.”

“That’s also one of the memories I tried that first time learning the Patronus Charm,” he noted, amused. “I’m glad it worked better for you.”

“Flying made me feel free—and powerful. I think I’m done with Riddle’s voice in my mind.” Ginny paused for a moment, watching Harry, before taking a deep breath. “I was afraid that if I couldn’t cast the Patronus, it meant that, in some way, I wanted to hear him.”

“I get it,” Harry mumbled, not quite meeting her eyes now. “The reason why I got so bad around dementors was because I could hear my parents’ voices, when they were… in their last minutes. And it was the only memory I had, so for a while I hung on to them.” He risked a glance at her. Ginny didn’t look pitiful, so he felt safe enough to give her a small smile.

She shook her head.

“I think you are very generous to compare you missing your parents with my unhealthy relationship with the diary that almost killed me, Harry, but that’s just you.”

“Well, what made me cast the Patronus Charm was that I could not risk us losing another Quidditch match.”

“Priorities.”

“I can tell all the effort paid off in the end.”

“Isn’t it true that you managed to fight off a hundred dementors to save Sirius?”

“Yeah.” He grinned. “But I was thinking that Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup that year after all.”

She grinned back. Ginny had dimples when she smiled; she could be as bright as a Patronus, Harry thought suddenly. She’d manage to cast one soon, he just knew.

He was about to tell her this when the door of the room opened. Ginny glanced at the door before taking a step back, her face only slightly flushed as she asked him, as if continuing a different conversation, “How can I help you?”

“Huh?” Harry said, confused. The group of Ravenclaws had just entered, and while they were greeting him, Cho had given him a smile, though somewhat avoiding his gaze.

“The Room,” said Ginny patiently. “You like to get the Room ready before the lesson, and I thought I could be useful—hi, Michael.”

She waved at her boyfriend, and for a moment, it crossed Harry’s mind that there was as much enthusiasm in her voice as in Cho’s smile to him. 

He shook his head. “Mirrors, it might be helpful.”

“I’m on, Professor Potter.”

“Not prat anymore? I see the improvement now.”

“Like I said, you are kind of decent, Harry.” She winked at him, clearly amused, and turned around; as mirrors appeared on the corners of the room, her boyfriend joined her, hands hanging on the inside of the pockets of his robes and just watching her.

I didn’t like him, Ron had said it once, and though Harry didn’t think he’d share this thought with anyone, he couldn't help but agree with Ron.

[rainbowrites]

[image description: a pile of chocolate chip cookies on a counter in front of a plastic bag with more of the same cookies]

I saw that Colton died last week, and almost immediately couldn't process it. Closed the tab and walked away. I didn't think I deserved to be sad about someone who I had never met in real life. But today I looked through @penroseparticle-memorial and was so fucking moved. So here it is:

I met @penroseparticle, like many of us, through Glee. It feels strange to say I met him, when I never met him in person. But I did meet him. I did know him. Just because it happened online doesn't mean it didn't happen. I met him when I was 17. I'm 31 now. I knew him for 14 years. That's almost half my life. Even after Glee ended and we stopped screaming together every week about the Everything that was that show, I always enjoyed seeing him on my dash. He was like a neighbor that I'd nod at sometimes, or enjoy a chuckle as he told me a funny story by the mailbox. Hell, even my fiancé knew him just based on how many of Colton's posts I would show him.

I never got to meet him in person so I don't have any pictures of him. But what I do have is a pictures of the chocolate chip cookies that he and @into-the-weeds politicked their way into getting through my follower give away. Never Forget Cookiegate. For literal years after that, every time I made cookies I thought about you guys and would laugh to myself. You guys waged a campaign that could have overthrown countries for those cookies. I remember you had people voting for you from across the world! You gathered so many people together, all for the sake of cookies and most importantly, in dedication to the bit.

I feel like that really sums you up. Bringing people together with food and laughter. I wish I had sent you more cookies. I wish I could have given them to you in person

[usoppshoneydew]

"9 to 5" Tasm!Peter Parker x reader🕸️🕸️🕸️

S: After a bad day at work, you get a lucky ride home from your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

Pairing: Andrew Garfield! Spider-man x F! Black reader

Tw: Heights??/ Fluff

Word count: 5.3k

Notes: Reader is described as shorter than Peter; reader has a sister; parted hair is mentioned; This is proofread but there may still be mistakes🕸️🕸️🕸️

It's a normal, bustling night in New York as people walk through the streets of Queens. The sun set a while ago but through a window, a person could still hear civilians revving engines, honking horns, or cursing out someone who almost hit them in the crosswalk. A typical night in the city you live in. It's on a relatively basic night like this, that you meet spiderman for the first time.

“Yeah, I'll be right there. Yeah, I missed my bus so I'm taking the street.” You softly speak into your phone, explaining to your sister the reason you're not home from work yet. You glance around while she lists off all the ways she wants you to watch yourself. You knew this way home like the back of your hand, and it's pretty much the safest one, surrounded by families and the elderly, but that didn't mean you didn't keep your head on a swivel like usual.

“Yeah, okay. Yeah, I've got my mace. Ok, see you in a minute. Ok. Love you too. Bye.” You end the conversation and hang up, before putting your phone in your pocket. You sigh deeply and continue your walk, no earbuds in for safety reasons, just the sounds of traffic and the puddles underneath your feet keeping you company on your way back. With nothing else to keep you busy, you do the exact thing you didn't want to do, and run over the course of your day in your head.

You'd had a pretty awful shift at work. It must've been “be a jerk to customer service employees” day and you hadn't gotten the memo or something, because the amount of pissy customers there were today caught you off guard. So of course you were more than ready to go home when it was time to clock off, right before it's time to clean up and close the store, as planned. You scheduled your hours this way on purpose because you hate cleaning with other people, and because your BUS doesn't run that late. This is what you told your manager, when she gave you some bullshit reason for having to leave early and why you had to stay and close up instead of her. You should have set her straight right then, manager or not, but as per usual, you just stewed angrily and cussed her out in your head for the next two hours while wiping counters. You're caught up in your thoughts when someone suddenly shoves past you with their shoulder,forcing you to stumble out of their way.

“Watch where you're going!” the guy practically spits at you and walks off without even giving you a second glance. He doesn't even give you a chance to respond, but it's not like you would have anyway. Instead you just suck your teeth loudly and toss an irritated glare at him over your shoulder. After all, you're not all bark and no bite. You've got enough in you to give someone a nasty look, maybe even venomous depending on what they did, but for some reason any comebacks you can think of only come to you long after the person is gone.You shake your head and are about to continue on your way when you hear a loud “thwip”, and a surprised shriek. Just when you're about to glance back to see what happened, there's the sound of feet roughly landing on the pavement in front of you.

“Yo! It's not nice to push people, man!” You turn back towards the voice, and right in front of you is spiderman, looking over your head while continuing to berate the guy behind you. You stand there stunned for a moment while the two men argue, your mouth slightly parted.

“What the hell man!? Let me out of this!” The stranger shouts while struggling, and you turn around to see that he's now uncomfortably strapped to the wall beside the street, with a large spider web. His arms are up in an awkward position and the tips of his feet are just barely grazing the ground. It looked embarrassing, and there was no way there wouldn't be a group of teenagers taking pictures of him soon, but hey, the guy deserved it.

“Actually, I think I'll let you stay there for a while! Maybe give you a chance to learn some manners!” Spiderman calls back casually before finally directing his reflective eyes down at you. You just glance back up at him for a short moment in disbelief. In the few years since you first saw Spiderman on TV, you've never once seen the hero in person. Maybe you're always looking down at your phone whenever he swings by or something, because you've never seen any of his amazing feats. There could be news about him stopping crime on the exact street you take to school, at the exact time you get out of your last class, and you'll still only find out about it after you step inside your front door. Now he was standing in front of you, tonight of all nights, and he's taller than he looks in the videos.

“Are you okay?” He huffs breathlessly after his little back and forth with the guy from earlier, the wide eyes of his mask staring down at you expectantly. You blink a few times before stuttering a bit and dusting your jacket off.

“Oh uh- yeah I'm fine. He didn't knock me over or anything.” You mumble absentmindedly while looking down at and straightening your already straight clothes. You don't know why you're acting so skittish. Spiderman isn't a celebrity or anything but he is extremely well known at this point. Maybe that's why it feels kind of surreal that he's speaking to you so casually. That, and you're a bit of a fan of Spiderman despite never seeing him in person, always finding yourself keeping up with his latest acts of heroism.

“Well no- I meant-.” Spiderman says before pausing and tapping at his eyes. You just pause for a moment before finally noticing your stiff cheeks and the tears drying on them.

“What the hell? How did I not realize I'd been crying?” You frown, genuinely confused. It must've been when you were thinking about how you let your manager get away with treating you like a shag carpet. You don't have anything to clean your face with, except for a few small packs of wet wipes in your purse, and you don't want to imagine what that would do to your skin.

“Yeah! I uh- was swinging by and noticed you. You looked pretty lost in thought, so I wasn't gonna say anything but. Y'know, spiderman makes time for all civilians, even- crying ones.” He rambles on, and how awkward it comes out makes you smile a little. You never would've thought that spiderman could kind of, well,word vomit. He always looks so put together in his videos, aside from the compilation of times he's fallen or swung into something.

“No, I'm fine really! Thank you. And for dealing with that guy too! If you hadn't done anything I probably would've just complained about him with my sister later.” You joke after glancing back at the man again. Spider man just nods with his arms crossed.

“I get it, not the confrontational type. Me neither.” He sighs, and you tilt your eyebrows slightly, because his actions just now and a few of the videos you've watched definitely contradict that statement. After a moment you begin to fidget a little, not entirely sure of what else to say to Spider-Man, but not wanting to end your conversation with him either. Who knows when you'll get a chance like this again. The next time would probably have to be when there's some sort of danger, and you're not necessarily looking forward to that, especially not after that horrifying lizard incident when you were in highschool. That had been the first time you saw him, watching your TV in awe while clinging to your mom. He notices your discomfort and jumps to make conversation, not necessarily ready to leave you on your own either.

“So um- are you on your way home? I don't think I've seen you in this neighborhood before.” He asks you before coolly leaning on the wall beside him. He really hopes you actually wanted him to continue the conversation, and that he's not just awkwardly holding you hostage now. You brighten up when you look back up at him though, so you can bet he's inwardly patting himself on the back for making the right choice.

“Yeah,that's probably because I usually take the bus through here. I don't normally walk down this street.” You respond while looking around,noticing the sudden absence of families and the elderly. This is the safest route you know, but it's also significantly later than when you'd usually walk through here, around 11 at night now. Spiderman must've noticed the lack of people too because the thing he says next catches you off guard.

“Do you want a ride?” He asks you casually and you look back over at him.

“A ride?” You ask, confused. From what you've seen, no one's ever posted about a spider mobile or anything of that sort. How would he give you a ride home? Spiderman just nods easily before looking up at the buildings around you.

“Yeah! Y'know, you wrap your arms around me, I wrap my arm around you, and fwip fwip!” He makes a small swishing sound and mimics the way he shoots his webs. You look at him with a dumb face, before finally processing what he was offering.

“You're saying you're going to swing me home?!” You gasp, your voice echoing in the empty neighborhood. Spiderman nods casually, this being something he does pretty often. Well, not that often but he's done it with a girlfriend or two, or one. He doesn't swing people around that often.

“Are you sure that's okay? Don't you have to uh- patrol or something like that?” You ask wearily. Swinging while in the arms of New York’s own Spider-Man is something you daydream about an embarrassing amount, but that didn't mean you wanted to take up his time.

“Well I'd offer to walk you home. But swinging’s faster. And! That high in the air, I can patrol at the same time. It's a win win.” He quickly says while rubbing the back of his neck, trying to appear cool about it. You just falter, at a loss for words. What was happening? You've not only run into and spoken to spiderman, a person you've only ever seen on camera,but now he's asking you if you want him to swing you through the city? All in the same night? How had this day turned around so drastically? You're still lost in thought when spider man speaks up again.

“Besides, I can't let a civilian walk around an empty neighborhood by herself can I? Not at this time of night.” He adds softly and reaches his hand out. After a moment more of contemplating, you sigh. You'd had a horrible day and your favorite hero was offering to take you home. Your friends would only clown you if you missed this chance by acting timid again, overly considerate, and you'd beat yourself up over it too. Besides, you glance around at the dark neighborhood. What could be safer than a personal escort home from the webbed hero himself?

“ I guess you can't. Thank you.” You say and accept the hand he has stretched towards you. Spiderman takes your hand before gently leading it to wrap around his shoulders, and you're surprised by how warm his hands are even through his gloves. You wrap your other arm around him, and nervously start to wonder how this was going to work. The masked hero was taller than he looked in the videos, and you had to reach a little just to get a half decent grip around his shoulders. There's no way you're not flying into a late night hot dog stand like this. As if he read your mind, spiderman suddenly starts to shuffle a bit.

“One second, let's just get a better grip here.” He mutters quietly, and you make a startled sound when he suddenly squats a little lower than you, his chin grazing your chest, before wrapping an arm around your waist and lifting you slightly higher. With the sudden movement and the new height difference, you reflexively wrap your arms tighter around him.

“Oh lord, this is really happening.” You practically cry in your head, your heart starting to beat faster in your chest when it sinks in that you're going to be hundreds of feet in the air in a short moment. After a quick little bounce, just to secure you a little higher, spider man finally looks at you.

“Alright. You ready?” He huffs and watches you nervously glance around at the ground, as if you're already flying through the air. You sigh before meeting the reflective eyes of his masks, pausing when you find reassurance in them somehow, and finally nod.

“Yeah, I'm ready.” You exhale and finally find the courage to look up at the buildings and night sky above you. Spiderman takes a breath too, the quick pounding of your heart against his collarbone making him slightly nervous, even if he's confident that he won't drop you.

“Alright. Here we go!” He huffs, and you hold your breath as he takes a running start, before shooting a web. He latches it to a building and with a leap and a yank of his arm, you both spring into the air. You had built the courage to look up but the moment you feel that drop in your stomach from the rise in altitude, you yelp and hide your face between spider man's neck and shoulder, squeezing your arms even tighter around him. You must be strangling the poor man at this point, but if he feels any discomfort, the masked hero doesn't say anything. For at least four more lifts and swings, you're crouched tightly against spider man's side, hoping that this Roller Coaster drop simulator would end quickly. There's nothing but the wind in your ears and the small noises you make whenever you both drop before catching another web, until he suddenly clears his throat.

“ I uh- probably should have asked this sooner but-! Where am I taking you exactly!?” He calls out above all the noise, grunting in between words whenever he has to yank your combined weight back into the air. That's right, you'd been too busy trying to keep your guts out of your throat to tell him where your apartment is. You're about to pull away from his shoulder the smallest bit to answer him, when your home training suddenly reminds you that you're about to tell a random man, even if he is a hero,your address. Still, if there's ever an emergency, it wouldn't hurt for spiderman to know what window to hop through.

“uuh- itS- ugh. That one apartment complex by the sandwich- shop on 5th Ave!” You utter miserably, trying to hold it together while also avoiding looking at the buildings sweeping by.

“Oh ok yeah! I know where you're talking about!” He calls back and you're ready to tuck back into your hiding spot against his neck when he speaks up again.

“You know! It's alright! I won't drop you! You can open your eyes!” He shouts and you squint your eyes open a little.

“I'm sorry?!” You yell back, trying to talk more towards his collarbone rather than screaming directly into his ear. You still keep your eyes open as lightly as possible, not sure if you can stomach watching the buildings swing by. Spider man holds you just a little tighter when he swings from a higher building than the ones you've taken so far, and you try to stifle another borderline inappropriate sound the best you can. What can you do when it feels like you're on the pirate ship ride at six flags,though? It's either restrained, yet slightly weird sounding yelps, or downright screeching in the man's ear, as if you really are on a roller coaster ride. Spiderman glances over at you before swinging again.

“Open your eyes! I promise the view is worth it! You'll love it!” he tries to convince you and you suck your teeth, thinking about it.

“Uh!” your voice wavering as you try to dredge up some courage. You're still contemplating when you feel spider man turn his head. You look up at him and find that his wide, reflective eyes are on you.

“I've got you. Trust me.” Spiderman reassures you again, and you pause. You search his eyes for a moment, and again even though they shouldn't, they almost have a comforting look to them. You both gaze at one another until you take a deep breath. After one more, you close your eyes tight and turn your head towards the front of you both.

“Ok!” you call out, with your eyes still closed. The wind is cold against your ears, and you can even feel it blowing through your hair you messily parted before work this afternoon. You can't see it but you can tell spiderman brightens up.

“Ok?! Yeah! Alright let's go!” he yells excitedly before latching onto another building and preparing to lift you both to an extremely tall one, one that'll give you the best view. He holds you close as you both drop for a moment, building momentum for the swing.

“You ready?!” He pants with excitement while giving your side an encouraging squeeze. After a deep breath, you nod and wrap your arms tighter around spider man's shoulders, squishing the side of your face against his jaw, something you wouldn't normally do to a stranger. This isn't a normal situation though.

“Ok! Here we go!” He cheers before whooping loudly and yanking you both into the air, the force making you groan. You squeeze your eyes shut, until you feel everything coming to halt. When you open them, you and spiderman are both suspended in the air above the buildings. A gasp leaves you and it feels like time stands still, with your jacket rising around you, as well as your bag. You're only able to take in the stretch of lights around you for a short moment before you feel your bodies start to drop. The view is quickly overtaken by buildings again, and you're still out of breath when spiderman sticks to the side of a nearby building. He makes a makeshift perch out of his knee for you to sit on, and despite that being something you'd usually be embarrassed about, you're too stunned to care right now.

“Are you alright? I'm sorry that was too much wasn't it?” Spiderman apologizes breathlessly as he straightens your jacket a little, your silence making him anxious. Maybe he had gone too high? You finally blink yourself out of your daze, bracing yourself against his shoulder.

“No- I-! That was incredible!” You huff, still not entirely over the sight you just saw. It was like looking out an airplane window, but without any, well, security or walls. Spider-Man just looks at your bright eyes and wild appearance, and bursts out laughing. You aren't aware of how wind blown you look so you just continue.

“No really! It was like-! And I couldn't-! You know?” You flounder illiterately as your extensive vocabulary flies out the window. You look at him to see if he was grasping what you're saying and Spiderman laughs again, finding it cute how quickly your opinion about this whole thing had changed. It was also nice that you seemed to be in a way better mood than before.

“Yeah! No, I get exactly what you're saying! The feeling is surreal. I felt it when I went swinging for the first time too.” He agrees with you, your excitement rubbing off on him. You finally feel your heart beat start to decelerate. It was for such a short time but in that brief moment in the air, you felt completely weightless, your day at work completely forgotten. You look over at him again and Spider-Man’s holographic eyes widen when they meet your gaze.

“I've thought this ever since that night in high school but, you really are so incredible.” you sigh and unconsciously search for eyes that you can't see. But spiderman can see yours perfectly, and the awe you're looking at him with, makes his heart speed up unexpectedly. You both gaze at each other for a moment longer before spiderman remembers to catch his breath and clears his throat.

“So um-. Are you ready to go again? I've uh- still got to deliver you home safely.” He jokes while laughing a little towards the end. You blink before situating your arms back around his shoulders. He wraps his arm back around your waist and you squeeze him a little more securely before bracing yourself.

“Yeah, I'm ready.” You huff and Spiderman springs off of the building and you both descend towards the ground before he shoots a web, swinging away with you in his arms. He whoops and you scream the entire way.

***

If someone listened hard enough, they'd hear laughing and talking from the top of a certain building.

“No but really that was such an underrated movie, and all because the animation was different.” You say around the last bite of the hotdog from the stand that's always parked on your street. Spiderman scoffs and shakes his head before impressively tossing his crumpled foil into a trash can on the street 90 feet below you. You'd whistle if you knew how to do it properly.

“Some people can't appreciate anything beyond aesthetics.” He sighs profoundly, and how dramatic it is makes you laugh, causing him to join in too. After gazing out at the city for a short while longer, you ball up your hot dog wrapper and stand up, making spiderman look up before standing too. You stuff the trash in your pocket to throw away later and sigh wistfully.

“Welp, I should probably head inside now. My sister has been blowing up my phone for the last 10 minutes.” You exhale while rocking on your heels and glancing over at the door that leads to the stairs of your building, not entirely ready to end this incredible night.You really should've gone inside the moment you both arrived, but when the masked hero offered to buy you something to eat, you couldn't say no. It was rare enough that you'd actually met him in person today after never being able to catch a glimpse of him before, so you know it's not likely you'll get this chance again. It only makes it worse that he turned out to be much nicer than you ever imagined through his videos. Spiderman just nods his head and swings his arms a bit.

“Yeah of course! And just tell her that spiderman held you up, if you need a way out of a lecture or something.” He responds, making you both laugh for the nth time tonight. You hum and nod your head.

“Will do. So uh- thank you for taking me home tonight, I appreciate it. Honestly, I've wanted to meet you since I first saw you in high school.” You chuckle quietly and sigh.

“I guess people aren't always right when they say never meet your heroes huh?” You say softly and glance at him one more time, making his reflective eyes widen again, before finally turning on your heel and making your way towards the door. Spiderman just stands still until you call out one more time.

“ Goodnight Spider-Man! Thanks again!” You call from the door and it snaps him out of his little daze.

“No problem! And watch yourself on the way to your door too! People are crazy!” He adds quickly and you shout back a distant ‘Yes sir!’, that makes him grin. Even after the door has closed Peter continues to smile to himself, replaying your conversations in his head as he walks off the building with a jig in his step. He never would've expected that he'd run into you tonight. Despite sharing a class with you and noticing you on your way home sometimes, Peter has never spoken to you, as himself or as Spider-Man. He's had a small crush on you for a little while now, nothing huge, just enough that he notices if you've got on a new outfit or if you missed class, but after the way things ended with Gwen before she moved, he doesn't plan on acting on it. That was never a good idea. He swings for a while longer before pausing for a second once he notices he's passing the street you both were on what felt like hours ago.

“She might need a swing home again though, who knows?” He thinks to himself as he walks over to the unruly civilian he webbed up earlier, still stuck to the wall. Maybe that manager you told him about will flake on you again, making you miss your bus and walk down this street. No, that wasn't likely. He's never seen you walk down this street before now so why would it happen again? It wasn't right to look forward to seeing you like that anyway. After scolding the guy one more time after letting him go, Peter swings back up to the building he was patrolling from. Sure, he was drawing in his sketchbook too but he was mostly watching and listening. He doodles with the noise of New York as his ambiance, and soon there's a tiny, no effort doodle of you in the corner of his page. He scribbles mindlessly on already sketched lines as he thinks of you.

“I can at least say hello in the hallway or something.” He ponders quietly as he adds little coils to your simplified hair, to stand as the curls that had escaped your parts when you both were swinging.

An intense yawn leaves you as the last few minutes of class tick by, with your instructor( who insisted on being called professor despite running a poorly taught class at a small community college) talking about a topic you couldn't bring yourself to care about. You couldn't get much sleep after your amazing encounter with spiderman last night. All you could do is run over the entire ordeal in your head over and over. Which you think you would've been tired of doing after relaying the story to your sister and all your friends about a hundred times, enough for them to get sick of it anyway. You're in the middle of skipping through the songs on your phone when you finally notice other students getting up to leave. Technically you didn't have to stay for your instructor's rambling but it always felt too rude to just get up and leave in the middle of them talking. While stuffing your binder back into your backpack, two classmates you'd consider friends walk up to you while chatting.

“Y/n are you going to the student store? Let's go together, I want some of those fruit snacks!” one of them says while leaning a hand on your desk. The other sits at the desk beside you, a desk belonging to a guy named Peter. Now that you think about it, he'd rushed out of class a while ago and hasn't come back. Maybe he had an emergency. You contemplate grabbing his backpack for him, noticing he'd left it behind, but decide not to. How would you even give it back to him? What if he comes back for it after you left?

“Y/n?” Your classmate calls your name again since you hadn't answered them, making you snap out of your thoughts. You quickly stuff the rest of your things in your bag.

“Oh yeah. I don't know you guys. They haven't changed what they stock in a while now. ‘M getting kind of tired of that stuff.” You hum while grabbing your purse and phone.

“Then just walk with us over there.” Your other classmate suggests and the three of you make your way out into the hall.

Peter weaves through the crowd of people leaving their classes for the day. He had spent way too much time dealing with that bank robbery. If he had just left after webbing them up instead of taking the time to bother them, he would've gotten back in time. Now he's going to miss the chance to talk to you-.

You run into a solid chest the moment you step out of the door, hard, because the person in front of you was rushing.

“Oh man! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry are you alright!?” Peter gasps after almost bulldozing over you. You're busy holding your nose and Peter is trying to catch a glimpse of your face to make sure you're not bleeding, when you both notice that you're talking to the person you were just thinking of.

“Oh Peter. I was wondering if you were coming back to class. Your backpack is still over at your desk.” you report once you realize who you're talking to. Peter just pauses and looks at you for a second. It's crazy that he's seen you plenty of times before today but just because of your half an hour long interaction yesterday, things felt different. He almost felt a little naked without his suit on, like you'd recognize him right away.

“Peter?” You ask him again and he finally remembers to human. He blinks a few times before nodding his head.

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah I had to go take care of something, but thanks. For looking out I mean.” He says hurriedly before letting out a sheepish laugh. He looks up at you with a cute smile that unexpectedly makes your heart stutter a little. This being the first time you've looked at him longer than the time it takes for him to answer a question, or slide past your desk. You blink and shrug casually.

“ Oh nah, it's no problem. I guess we'll see you tomorrow?” You say goodbye as your friends start to walk off ahead of you, seeing one of their other classmates.

“Yeah of course, see you later.” He responds and you give him a small smile before walking to meet up with your friends. Peter watches you for another second before turning to walk into the classroom. The two of you had so many conversations yesterday and now it was odd to exchange more than a few words. He can't do it though. Can't attempt to interact with you more outside of his suit. It would only lead to unavoidable problems that he'd rather not deal with again. Peter stops in the doorway to the classroom and taps at the frame with his finger.

“Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it.” He chants in his head as his feet stay planted to the spot in front of the door.

“Hey y/n!” You hear Peter call you right as you're about to step out into the quad. You peer back and see him jog up to you. When you look at him with big, questioning eyes he sighs and brushes his fingers through his hair.

“Sorry, but could you tell me the assignments for tonight? I missed them earlier.” He asks you with an adorable smile, and just like that, things are on the course to change, for better or for worse.

🕸️A/n: I can't believe I finally finished this, I started it in June last year. I told myself I'm gonna finish all the fics I want to read this year, no matter how long and complicated, and I'm already off to a great start. Super proud of myself. This is my first post on this blog so, thanks for reading!🕸️🕸️🕸️

🕸️Taggies: @cookieswithay, @bokutosbiceps

[lemon-muncher]

hey!!! I was wondering if you could do some yandere content with a villain male reader whos a lot like toga but he's absolutely obsessed with pro hero Bakugo that he keeps him tied up in his basement??? You can choose if its angst or smut but I hope you're doing well and thank you for your timeeee!!!

OH MY LORD I NEEDED THIS!!! I'm thinking of making a second part to this but I'm not sure. If you guys want that, let me know if it should be angst or smut!

CW: Kidnapping, obsession, stalking, basic yandere shit idk

Katsuki Bakugo x Yandere! Male Reader

Most people would retract in horror or shock if they found someone bound, gagged, and disheveled in their basement. Their hearts would race, subconsciously entering into a fight-or-flight reaction as they analyze the situation. But you, you were different from others. All you can do is stare in awe at the results of months of hard work. 

You’re not sure when your obsession with Katsuki Bakugo started. Probably when you were leaving the scene of one of your crimes. From the mass panic and large amount of civilian activity, you were able to slip into the crowd and blind in. In the chaos, you just happened to bump into someone, both of you stumbling but still left standing. A hand roughly grabs your shoulder to stabilize the both of you. “You alright?” A rough voice speaks to you, but for a moment you thought you fell and hit your head because there’s no way you could hear the voice of an angel. “Yeah…” You simply mumble, nodding your head in response. Before you could say anything else, blonde hair and red eyes turn away from you, running towards the scene of your crime. 

For the first time in your life, you were awestruck. Completely captivated by a man you had only seen for a few seconds. You watch as he runs away, memorizing how the man’s muscular body stretched the spandex of his hero suit. Scanning him from head to toe, watching as his back flexed and his ass slightly bounced with each step. As a villain, you had learned how to get away from the police, to evade capture. But for a moment, you wanted to walk back, just to observe the pro hero for one more second.

“It was a moment of weakness!” You told yourself as you browsed the internet at all the new and upcoming heroes. “A small misstep in my criminal agendia!” You tracked down the hero agency he worked for, finding the address of his apartment. “He’s just… intriguing…” You stood in the doorway of his bedroom, wide red eyes looking into your own. “Katsuki Bakugo… we meet again…” If it weren’t for the silent apartment, he wouldn’t have heard you mutter. You took a step forward, the moonlight coming through the window showing the vibrant blush on your cheeks and bloodshot eyes. Your smile sent shivers down Katsuki’s skin, both of your bodies moving purely on instinct. 

From the beginning of time, fight-or-flight was embedded into the DNA of living things. In the wild, two animals fighting each other wouldn’t be odd as they were simply fighting for survival. Katsuki clawed at your face as the sedative filled syringe was plunged into his neck. Your body atop of his, caged him against the bed. As he struggled, his feet dug into his sheets, kicking them off the bed in a struggle. He was fighting for his life… but at the same time, so were you. 

How long has it been? Three months? Four? Time had stopped the second Katsuki was in your possession. You can help but blush and chuckle as angry eyes stare back at you. Even when restrained he still fought. He would be such a good pro hero if you hadn’t made it your mission to turn him into the perfect man for you. “You’ve been quiet the past few days… what’s gotten into you?” You question, slowly pulling the gag out of your captive’s mouth. “Fuck you…” His voice hoarse and his mouth dry from days of screaming into the cloth. His body was slumped in the chair he was restrained to, the quirk-blocking cuff around his ankle slightly worn from Katsuki’s constant struggling. 

The blush rose on your cheeks at the statement. How can you refuse him such an intimate act? He was finally giving in, starting to feel the same way you did for him! With a hum, you slowly started to walk around the other man, stopping directly behind him. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that…” You raked a hand through Katsuki’s blonde hair, your fingers instinctively tightening around the strands and pulling his head back. A strained groan leaves the other man’s mouth as his eyes are forced into the line of sight of your own. His lips twitched, most likely to throw out a string of profanities but all it did was make you lick your own. 

“Now, all you have to do is behave, my love…”

[gilverrwrites]

for the continuation of tim's revenge for what pervy dick did 👀

did he manage to get revenge

AN: God they're messy. Warnings: Manipulation, voyeurism but not really, dubious consent, (barely) rough sex. ━ [Part 1] ━ [Part 2] ━ Bonus parts: [X] [X]

He stews on the situation for a while. He’s not mad at you for sleeping with someone else, you’re not an item after all. He’s also not really mad at you for sleeping with his brother, of all people. He also isn’t even really mad that you hid it from him even though he has every right to be pissed.

But there’s still something boiling deep in his psyche, making him bitter and keeping him on edge. Jealousy. Possessiveness. Never in a million years would he admit it, but he's He’s hyper-aware now and scathing every time you grin at your phone, or when Dick's hand linger on your curves just a second too long to be considered friendly. You’re too tied up in each other to notice Tim’s eyes burning into your souls.

You're oblivious to his glare when Dick whispers in your ear, as you let his older brother guide you out into the hall, and he’d bet you're clueless to the way Dick holds back just long enough to look back at him, blue eyes filled with an irking level of smug triumph, before following close behind you.

He knows he’s only torturing himself by trailing the two of you, but it beats sitting around trying not to imagine whatever’s going on.

He doesn’t want to look, so he presses his ear to the door just in time to hear you quietly lament “I don’t know, Dick. Are you sure?”

Dick's voice is so low and soothing that its barely audible but Tim clocks it clear as day, the use of his name. “Yes baby, I told you to trust me, didn’t I? Tim will love this, once you’ve learned how to take it right.”

The thought that he’d been wrong, that Dick was actually teaching you something sweet and totally innocent to surprise him crosses his mind, and for a second he feels bad for assuming the worst but moments later the undeniable sound of skin slapping against skin and the echo of your muffled voices moaning each other's names quickly puts an end to that line of thought.

Finally, he’s angry. He has half a mind to boot the door in and put a stop to whatever manipulation Dick is pulling on you, but he knows things will get ugly fast.

The question of what ‘this’ is that he’ll love so much also dangles in the back of his mind, but there’s no way in hell he’s opening that door for a peek, this isn’t how he wants to see you undressed for the first time and if he catches a glimpse of anything Dick has going on he might have to put bat-bleach in his eyes.

No, he doesn’t open the door, but he decides then and there to close the deal the next time he has you to himself.

He’s not sure how he’ll react if you reject him, but fortunately, neither of you has to find out. After all this time, all the wondering, all the nerves, he’s surprised by how easy it is to get close to you. It’s like magic; once he’s got you wrapped up in his arms, pressing his lips to yours, you just melt right into him like you were always meant to be there, melded to each other.

Your kisses are hungry, and urgent but you touch him so tentatively, and you hesitate when his hands snake under your shirt for the first time. He breaks away from kissing your throat to look into your guilt-glazed eyes. Whatever moral debate is going on in your head is long forgotten however when he starts grinding his cock against you.

The sex is total bliss, you’re everything he’d dreamed of and more; tits shaking in time with his thrusts, pussy hot and wet, taking it so damn well, and your eyes, half-lidded but glued to his every move. So totally perfect, everything he’d been envisioning. He’d completely lost sight of everything else until he catches your expression shift.

You speak so quietly, so unsure, looking up at him with hopeful eyes as you tell him something that he doesn’t quite catch between your softness and his euphoria.  

“What?”

“I said you can be rough with me. If you want.”

It takes a second for your words, their implication to click inside his brain but then he remembers.

Before you can object he grabs your wrists, deliberately hard enough to bruise, pinning them to the bed as he pressed his chest against yours, stopping his thrust once he's buried balls deep inside you. He ignores how you whine at the pain in your arms, how you desperately buck your hips to try and coax him into fucking you again.

“If I want?”

You nod frantically, without hesitation. “Anything you want.”

The bawdy look on your face quickly fades to confusion, body falling completely still as he starts to laugh at you. Man, what he would have given to hear you say those words just weeks ago.

“Did Dick tell you I like it rough?” He asks, and your eyes grow wide and panicked. “What else did he tell you I was into?”

“Tim- I- Wait- It-” You choke on your words when he starts pumping in and out of you again, so slowly it's agonizing for the both of you, but he's sure his resolve will last far longer than yours.

The muscles in your arms grow taut but you’re not strong enough to push off his weight. He stays excruciatingly close, watching every twitch and breath and moan as you try and fail to get a grasp on yourself.

“C’mon tell me.” He goads. “Tell me everything Dick taught you so I can put you to the test. I want to try all of it.” Not only that, but he’s gonna do it all ten times better than Dick ever could, and if the way your cunt clenches around his cock at the seer notion is any indication, you’re gonna enjoy every second of it.

[kitkat13001]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚞𝚗, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎

drunken monologues, confused because it’s not like i’m falling in love i just want you to do me no good and you look like you could the look of love, the rush of blood the “she’s with me”s, the gallic shrugs

⤷ denki kaminari x reader

⤷ denki calls reader “ma’am” once as a joke (no pronouns used), brief mentions of alcohol and small descriptions of anxiety, title and lyrics from arctic monkeys’ “no. 1 party anthem”

you didn’t feel like going out tonight. 

you had told denki this much when he barged into your room after you’d declined his million calls, instead finding you buried under a mountain of blankets just a few hours away from midnight on the 31st. 

not the best way to start the new year, he’d pointed out. you had only grumbled, tossing over in your bed and ignoring him. 

you’re surprised he’s not at the party right now. surely everyone else you two know is there, if the pictures mina, sero and kirishima had blown up your phone with were any indication. 

denki nudges your lifeless body and your grumble again, louder this time as he plops himself down on your bed beside you. 

“come onnn, it’s new year’s eve! you can’t go into a new year moping around like this, you need to get out and have some fun!”

unfortunately, he makes a pretty compelling case. it was something stupid that had you in such a bad mood, and getting out would probably do you a great deal of good. but then again, the party…the lights, the crowd, and ugh not even to mention the noise…

it’s like denki can sense your dilemma, the crack in your stubborn attitude, and he jumps at the opportunity to sway you. 

“pleeeaseee, you said you would come!” he whines, tugging on your arm insistently. 

contrary to popular belief, denki is actually very hard to say “no” to. 

you narrow your eyes at him, but you can’t muster up any malice in the face of his big golden eyes. 

you hold out for another couple seconds, internally debating, but he just keeps pouting and you know he won’t leave you alone until you agree and his hands on you are so warm and he’s so infuriatingly cute and—

“ugh, fine!” you groan, pushing him away so he can’t see the way you flush. “go away so i can change!”

“yes, ma’am,” he replies quickly with a cheeky smile. “so bossy.”

the party is in full swing once you two arrive, and it’s not even midnight yet. it’s packed, just like you thought. you stick tight to denki's side as he weaves through the crowd with a smile, ever his charming little self. his body against yours as you clutch his arm is the only one that doesn’t make your skin crawl.

it takes a few drinks to loosen you up, but once the tension has bled from your shoulders you’re out dancing with mina and jirou like it’s nobody’s business. 

you’re not sure at what point denki left your side, but it tugs at the back of your mind that even though you’re enjoying yourself, you kind of miss him. 

you try to shrug the odd feeling off, throwing yourself back into the dancing and the drinking as the music drowns out every thought from your head. 

it’s a good distraction, probably what you needed just about now. not just the dancing, but the party—seeing your friends, getting out of your head. you’d been so down lately, and without good reason, too, which just made you more frustrated. 

it’s good you’re getting it all out there, isn’t it? isn’t this what you’re supposed to do? dance it out, drink it away, crash and sleep it off, then wake up to a new day and start over again? 

someone bumps into you from behind just then, and the hypnotic haze you’ve been wallowing in begins to clear. that claustrophobic feeling is coming back, and suddenly the music is too loud and the people are too close and you find yourself stumbling for the patio door. 

the fresh night air is a godsend and you stand there for a moment, leaning against the sliding glass door and taking in deep lungfuls of it. 

there’s a little couch setup around an empty bonfire pit, and that’s where you drop down to look at the sky as you regain your bearings. 

it’s also where denki finds you when he comes out of the house, eyes alight at the sight of you. it makes your heart jump. 

“hey! i was looking for you just now.”

“yeah, sorry,” you murmur. “crowd was too much, i was starting to feel…urgh, y’know?”

“yeah,” he agrees sheepishly, ambling over. “it was really packed in there.”

he takes a seat beside you, propping his feet up on the brick pit in front of you. 

you feel his golden eyes on you, but you keep your gaze skyward. 

“you okay?” he asks after a minute, carefully nudging his leg against yours. 

your only response is a half-hearted shrug. 

“you wanna go?”

you think about it for a second, the allure of home calling out to you, but the night breeze feels so cool on your warm skin and the steadiness of denki’s body against yours brings you peace. you don’t really want to go. 

“not just yet,” you tell him, letting yourself lean against him more. “do you think…can we stay like this a little longer?”

“yeah. yeah, we can stay as long as you like.” denki opens his arms, letting you kick your feet up on the couch and nestle comfortably into his side. you rest your head on his bicep, surprised by how sturdy the muscle is beneath you. you knew denki was fit—it was impossible not to be in this course—but it’s never something you’ve really thought about. or felt. 

the two of you sit in soft silence, watching as fireworks light up the sky. you can hear denki humming softly to the music still pouring out of the house. it makes you smile. 

the yelling inside the house is getting louder and you check your phone. 11:59. they must be starting the countdown now. 

ten. 

“hey denki?”

“yeah?”

nine. 

“thanks for making me come out tonight. it’s…”

eight. 

“i’ve had a better time than i thought i would,” you admit, toying with his fingers from where his arm is draped gently across your collarbone. 

seven. 

“really? i felt kinda for bad dragging you out when i saw you out here by yourself,” he replies with a nervous laugh. 

six. 

“well, maybe. but ‘m not by myself anymore,” you tell him, allowing yourself a cheeky little smile. you tilt your head back to look up at him, and he’s beaming at you. 

five. 

the fireworks are lighting up his face in the most beautiful colors. even from upside down, denki is probably the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen. 

four. 

it’s faint from under all the shouting inside, but you can still hear the music. you love this song. 

three. 

you reach up to trace your fingers gently over denki’s freckles. they’ve faded some in the winter, but they’re still there if you look closely. his hand comes up to intertwine your fingers, holding them to his face.

two. 

you’re leaning in, both of you, like magnets. you let your eyes close as denki pulls you closer, the music and shouting and fireworks fading into the distance as your lips meet his. 

one. 

it’s a long time before you separate, and even longer before either of you even think about getting up from the patio couch. 

“happy new year, denki,” you murmur through a little smile. 

even though you’re both looking up at the sky, you can practically hear the matching smile in his voice. “happy new year.”

i meant to get this out closer to new years, but i’m actually happy with how it turned out either way. denki is so special to me. take care and much love,

- 𝚔𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚢 ! 🩷🩷

[harunade]

moots 2 . zhang hao

pairing: camboy!hao x camgirl!reader

synopsis: your camboy friend, Hao, comes over for the first time. The two of you make the promised collab but end up catching feelings

warnings: smut!! p in v sex, biting, alcohol mentions, idiots in love.. , recording while fucking, making out, basically drunk sex,, not proofread possible typos

wc: ~ 1.8k

a/n: part 2 guys!! Im so happy u liked the first one :’)) part 3 where they become official might come out soon methinks

Your streams became something ordinary for you. Once every two days, you would doll yourself up, wear the most revealing pieces of clothing and make yourself cum on camera. What was even better was that people loved it! In two weeks you made enough money to cover rest for the next half of the year, when you usually lived paycheck to paycheck.

As for your new friend, you and Zhang Hao kept in touch as promised. He was present on your streams and you were on his. He made himself known by sending at least $50 and asking you to moan his name, which you happily did. Returning the favour, your name was moaned as well on his live, except you didn’t always have so much money to spend, but still did it anyway.

Unbeknownst to you, whenever Hao came across your videos or lives, his cock got inevitably hard. Normally, he wouldn’t have problems with erections, since he jerked himself off on camera almost daily, but ever since he met you, it’s like you put a spell on him. Sure, he spoke with girl on that site before, but you were the only one he looked forward to see post and had notifications on for.

Whilst for you, Hao was like your dirty little secret. You watched all of his streams, but didn’t always make yourself known. You gained a community pretty quickly, reaching 20k followers in the first month, and your fans shipped you with Hao together. It was common for either of you to recieve donations with pleads to collab.

@/sheloveshao: haha yn someone just send me $100

@/lovelyyn: damn?? so now u got money to ask me out or what

@/sheloveshao: r u saying i was broke before..? well i actually wanted to ask u out but now i dont wanna

@/lovelyyn: hao.. we still have that collab to do :)

It was quite obvious both of you avoided this subject. The thought of meeting with Zhang Hao in real life and “collabing” made your stomach hurt. After talking daily, you gained a liking for him. But since he was a camboy, he probably played with hearts too, so you resorted to just being friends. You face palmed yourself mentally for even bringing it up. Hopefully he won’t think of you as a creep.

@/sheloveshao: you’re right.. what if we met this weekend? if i’m not wrong you live about 20 mins from me

Your heart sank. You wanted to meet him, but at the same time didn’t. You were just too nervous!! Your celebrity crush but also crush but also friend wanted to come over, and both of you knew it would end up with him getting in your pants. That’s what you two do, after all. You didn’t know he was actually as nervous as you.

@/lovelyyn: i’m not opposed.. bring some red wine too.. I’ll have the camera ready ;)

Whew.. you tried so hard to sound as if it barely affected you but your legs were shaking while typing. At least that was done with, and you had 3 days to mentally prepare yourself.

Zhang Hao on the other hand, couldn’t be happier. Maybe happy is too strong of a word… he was definitely excited, both ways. He didn’t only plan to fuck you, but he wanted to surprise you with some sushi first, since he’s a gentleman after all. It wasn’t very manly of him, but he called his friend while kicking his feet. “Guess what, Hyuck.. i’m meeting y/n next weekend!” he exclaimed as soon as his best friend picked up. “What.. are you for real? How did that even happen?” Hao couldn’t wait to give all the details, he was probably more excited than you were. “Well.. it was her who asked in the first place. I came up with the time and she told me to get some wine and that she’ll have her camera ready.. so you know what that means�� he giggled towards the end. “Yeah yeah, bring a pack of condoms,too, you sex freak. But don’t get too attached, if she’s a camgirl who knows how many guys she’s done this with” the words spoken by his best friend created a dent in his heart. I mean, were you really meaning to play with his feelings? Did he have feelings for you in the first place? Hao failed to understand how you got so deep into his brain. Sure, he talked to camgirls before, but you had something different. He could actually talk to you without you just asking to collab for his fame.

—

The remaining days went by in a blink, and Hao was knocking on the door of your apartment. He looked lime a child visiting his relatives. He had grey sweatpants on, an oversized black hoodie and a backpack. He was carefully holding a paperbag with sushi inside. He gulped when he heard the door unlocking.

“Hi” you smiled at him and welcomed him in. You weren’t dressed too fancy yourself, just shorts and a tshirt.

The two of you sat down at your table and started chatting. The awkwardness quickly disappeared as soon as Hao pulled the red wine out of his backpack.

“You’re so much more fun than i expected you to be” you tell him before sipping the last drops of wine in your glass. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?” he laughs back.

Although he seemed to have fun, Zhang Hao was still thinking about what his friend said. You two hadn’t actuallt done anything yet, but he was still scared. He knew he had to charm you well enough for you to like him back.

—

Much too many glasses were now empty, and the bottle was thrown somewhere on the ground. Next to it was Hao accompanied by you, laughing hysterically at everything and anything. The second mistake of the night, other than drinking so much, was turning your head to face him. You were met with his beautiful brown eyes and saw his hair falling to his forehead. His lips were plump and rosier than usual, and he had a gone look in his eyes.

You didn’t know if you should kiss him or not, but you definitely wanted to. It seemed as if he had read your mind. “Kiss me, pretty?” you didn’t wait a moment before attaching your lips to his, cupping his face in the process. His larger hands went to your waist, carefully throwing you on top of him.

Stranding his hips, the kiss got heated. This new position allowed you to feel the boner in his pants and to rub down on it. You knew you were doing it right when you felt him whimper in your mouth. Normally, Hao gave off a dominant energy in his livestreams, but now he was putty in your hands.

—

“Hao..” you whimpered from below him. In the meantime you moved to your bed, where the brunette boy took of your shirt as well as his hoodie. So far the two of you didn’t do anything other than kissing and biting each other’s skin. You made sure to leave some marks on Hao’s neck. Maybe it was wrong to think this way, but you felt like Zhang Hao should be your property, and that was the best way to show everyone else. And in return, he gave you the same treatment. You neck, chest and belly were covered in kisses and bite marks from the boy in question. He loved the way you grabbed at his hair while he was doing it so much that he just couldn’t stop.

“Should we film?” you asked in a half ironic tone. Hao’s head rose from the crook of your neck and for a second you swore you could see sadness in his eyes.

“I think i have a better idea, just wait, beautiful” he said before diving back into your lips.

—

You grew needier with each moment and the boy above you made it his mission to tease you. “Please, Hao, just fuck me already..” your voice was like a drug to him, and he obeyed immediately. Both of your clothes were gone in no time and he slid a condom in his throbbing cock.

He grabbed it in his hand, and rubbed his tip up and down your drenching pussy, teasing you further and admiring you. Obviously, he had seen you naked before, but you looked even better in real life.

Right before pushing in, he looked you in the eyes, silently asking for permission. “Yes, please..” you murmured.

He bottomed out and let out a sigh. That was the moment the both of you had been wanting for so long. None of you could believe what was actually happening and how good it actually felt.

As Hao was thrusting in and out of you, he grabbed his phone, recording a quick 5sec video of his cock disappearing inside of you and reappearing. He would need that later.

—

Altough it was the first time you two met, it seemed like you had known each other for eternity. Zhang Hao figured out your body in an instant and knew exactly how to get you off, and you knew exactly when to clench your muscles to help him get off as well. Furthermore, you both came at the same time, which had to mean something, right?

Zhang Hao plopped next to you, resting for a bit before cleaning you up with a towel. He then got in bed next to you, welcoming you into his arms. This definitely wasn’t casual…

“What are you planning to do with that video?” you asked him. He almost forgot

Zhang Hao posted said video on his account.

the duo you guys knew you needed <3 @/lovelyyn

Not even two minuted had passed that both of his and your phones started buzzing. People were liking, reposting and commenting on your joint post. “I think they liked it” you laughed. “I did too..” the boy next to you was happy to hear that, as he enjoyed every second himself.

—

It didn’t take you long to tap out, leaving Hao with you in his arms and a lot on his mind. You were even more wonderful than expected. You were kind, beautiful and smelled amazing. He definitely knew he wanted you. It was only a matter of time before he figured out how to ask you to be his girlfriend.

[greenleaf4stuff]

Of Convenience, pt 2

(Cont. from this) (all parts of "Of Convenience")

Adar x Celebrimbor (silverscars) political marriage AU, 2nd snippet. Adar finds someone to officiate the marriage. The elf in question does not think this is a good idea and is pretty vocal about it. Celebrimbor must convince a good friend to help him - even if by, well, unconventional means.

Hiii guys this AU is slowly but surely taking over my brain so - have another snippet. No guarantee how many I'll end up writing, but well, this one exists, so I want to share it. If anyone else wants to try their hand on this concept/AU, be my guest!

"I refuse!" Galadriel spat, after Adar had dragged her into the tent after himself. Celebrimbor had very little time to be elated to see the other elf again before she ripped herself from Adar's grasp and put herself between Celebrimbor and the uruk. "You are trying to force him into something he does not want, would not want if he had any other options left. I refuse to lend you the legitimacy to the claim you seek. I will have no part in it."

She was as brilliant and fearless as the smith remembered her; despite her being in chains and how the two of them were surrounded by potential enemies from all sides, Galadriel was willing to risk her safety and lay down her life for Celebrimbor.

Which was precisely the reason as to why he would not take her up on the 'offer'.

He held up his hands and stared beseechingly at the uruk, who appeared stoic at first glance - but whose gauntleted fist was tightly clenched at his side, grasping the handle of his sword. At Celebrimbor's silent request, the uruk stopped his attempt to get closer. He even motioned the two uruk who had come in alongside him to stand down with a glance, before his eyes settled onto Celebrimbor again. Adar seemed oddly curious now, as if the tension had bled out of him.

The elf brushed it aside, and carefully came closer to Galadriel, humming before he touched her arm as not to startle her. She stepped back, closer to him.

Apropos of nothing, she hissed. "He speaks Quenya and Sindarin. Don't say anything you don't want him to hear."

Celebrimbor blinked, confused. Both at Galadriel's warning, and the fact that this unusual uruk spoke their languages. Then again - he did look elven enough that he might indeed be Moriondor. A terrifying thought, perhaps, but also one that held possibilities.

With gentle motions, the smith began to rub Galadriel's arm, and coaxed. "My friend, be at ease. Let me talk to you, first. Are you alright?"

She seemed torn between turning towards him to reassure him, and keeping an eye on the three uruk in the tent with them. Celebrimbor stepped forward and wrapped an arm around her, so the two of them were shoulder-to-shoulder - they'd cover their backs and she'd still be able to look at him. He had a hunch he'd need to be able to do that for the conversation that would follow.

Her eyes were wild as she was moved, her glances brief, but eventually she allowed herself a moment to take in the smith's face. "I am unharmed," she replied, brief and non-committal. Her glare went back to Adar. "You?"

Celebrimbor continued to rub her shoulder. "I've been treated well. He gave me food and drink," he paused, and looked at Adar. "He didn't even bind me."

This time, Galadriel did whirl around. Celebrimbor held up his hands and indeed, he had neither ropes nor manacles around his wrists. She tilted her head like a bird, and then glanced back at the uruk. Her expression still spoke of suspicion, but at least she wasn't quite so full of hatred anymore.

"Their leader told me he is planning to force you into a marriage," the word sounded like an insult from her mouth. "And tried to lie to me, claiming you'd accept to such a ludicruous idea-"

"Galadriel-," Celebrimbor sighed, gentle. Something in his tone must have given him away, because when Galadriel next turned towards him, she completely forgot the other people in the room by turning around fully. And shock was written all over her face.

If the situation wasn't so dire, the smith would have laughed at the picture she made. She was usually nearly unflappable in times of battle.

"-listen to me, I-"

"You cannot be serious," she breathed, still in shock, and grabbed Celebrimbor's hands with her own. "Tyelpe, listen to yourself. This orc-"

"Uruk," came from the other side of the room. Celebrimbor briefly looked up to see that Adar had spoken the words, but there was no heat behind them. If anything, he looked almost mildly amused. Celebrimbor threw him a glare and then focused on his friend again.

"Orc," she doubled down. Celebrimbor groaned internally. "Is speaking lies! He is trying to rope you into a plan to attack your own people, because he thinks-"

"Sauron is in Eregion. Yes," the smith finished her sentence, and Galadriel's expression fell out of her face at the name. "He's right. I- I have seen him. I know he's there because-"

He hoped, prayed to the Valar that his friend would forgive him. "Because I chose to ignore your warnings when 'Halbrand' returned to Eregion. I..." his voice broke. "I let him in, and now he won't leave. He's- he tricked me and my people, and when I realized it was far too late already."

His confession threatened to tear him apart, and he felt tears of frustration and shame gather in his eyes. "I am so sorry, my friend. I made a terrible mistake. And now my city is going to pay for it."

He would not crumble in the middle of an enemy tent, in front of the leader of a dark army that was still readying itself to attack Ost-In-Edhil if he diverged from the path he and Adar had set themselves onto.

Galadriel's gentle fingers at his cheek were a balm to his soul. As were her kind, understanding eyes. Gone was the commander of the Lindon elves, replaced with a kind smile and an imploring gaze.

"He tricked me too, same as you," she confessed. "Same as he has done to others," Adar's voice drifted over. Celebrimbor looked over in confusion and saw an unusually vulnerable expression on the other's face. And then the smith noticed how Galadriel's eyes had sunk to the floor as if contemplating something herself.

"It's not your fault," the female elf finally settled on, and looked at the smith, imploringly. "Almost none can resist him. And he set out to trick you, it wasn't a mistake or a coincidence on his part. When he first sets his sights on you...it already becomes impossible to escape him. Do not blame yourself for it."

"But I do," Celebrimbor said, and hushed Galadriel as she tried to reassure him. "I am the lord of this city. Of its citizens. I am meant to be their protector, and yet I couldn't even protect myself..."

"Which is why you must do me this favor, and help officiate a marriage between me and Adar." It was, perhaps, unfair to end his heartfelt confession with such a demand, but time was of the essence. Celebrimbor could apologize to her later, if she took offense to it. "His reasoning is sound - he plans to vanquish our common foe. As his husband, I can hand over control of my city to him. My people would have to accept that claim. He could enter it and drive out Annatar- Sauron. Hopefully with little bloodshed."

He trembled as he repeated Adar's plans at his friend, whose face was moving through different emotions at a speed too rapid to keep up with. Still, the smith pressed on. "Please Galadriel - like this, he will advance on Eregion. Elves and uruk will die, and Sauron will reign over whatever is left. Likely, he'll take the city and the army both. I know not how. But whatever he plans cannot be good," another pause. "He's tried to get me to make more rings."

At the mention of Sauron taking over the uruk army, there was a loud hiss from across the room, but it was Galadriel who was jerking in the smith's grasp at the mention of the rings.

"Over my dead body," Adar snarled, but the smith chose to ignore him for the moment. He could discuss this further with Adar when they were alone.

"He wants me, Galadriel," Celebrimbor pressed, and sought out her eyes. "Please, I need you to help me put a stop to this." "There's got to be a better way than this." The smith could tell it was her last attempt to reason with him, and already, it sounded more like a plea than an exclamation made in full confidence. He guessed that she was quickly arriving at the same conclusion he himself had come to.

"If there is, we have no the time to parse it out, or to pursue it," he said, and there was a finality to his words that made Galadriel deflate in his hold. He drew her closer and pressed their foreheads together. "Officiate the marriage. Stand by my side and give legitimacy to Adar's claims. Help me bring this to Gil-Galad so we might unite their- our forces against this greater evil. You want to get rid of him too, do you not?"

She looked back at him. "I can tell you are trying to appeal to my sence of vengeance," she said. And then sighed. Celebrimbor could tell he had gotten through to her, and it made him sigh in turn - in relief.

"I will do as you ask," she told Celebrimbor, and threw another glare at Adar, whose expression was a mask of indifference - thankfully so, for the smith was sure that if the other had been smug about it, Galadriel would have made an attempt on his life, no matter the circumstances (or consequences). She turned back to him. "And I will stay by your side to make sure he won't go back on his word. If he does, I'll cut his throat."

Her bold declaration was met with enraged growling from the two uruk guards who had brought her in, and a watery smile from Celebrimbor, who nodded and brushed his thumbs over her cheeks. "Of that, I have no doubt."

This put a small grin to her face, at last. Good.

"Now that this matter is settled," a voice cut through the small moment of peace, shattering it. "I believe we should start. My children are getting restless, and morning is fast approaching."

Celebrimbor sought out Adar's gaze, who still seemed as unaffected as through most of the conversation, safe for the fact that he wasn't grasping his sword anymore and was infact walking over to the nearby table to drink from a goblet - wine, the smith presumed.

"Untie her, and then let us be done with it quickly." It sounded as if this marriage was merely another task for Adar to fulfill - the smith couldn't quite fault the uruk for that. There was no love between them, not even affection, safe for how he couldn't quite help following the motion as Adar lifted his glass and drank in big gulps, throat moving with the motions.

It was an oddly arresting sight, and Celebrimbor was thankful when the two approaching uruk guards helped him to tear his gaze away. They were cautious to touch Galadriel, and surprised the others in the tent when they gave Celebrimbor the permission to open her manacles with a key instead.

The smith rubbed her wrists between his hands after he'd handed the keys and manacles back to the guards without a fuss and thanked them. The raised eyebrows that greeted him were unexpected, however. He gave Galadriel a lopsided smile and made sure the commander would not require a balm for the chafing.

He was surprised to see that while the manacles had certainly worked, they hadn't cut into her skin. Even with how Galadriel had behaved - and Celebrimbor was sure she hadn't been caught without a fight - Adar hadn't had her bound so tightly that she would bruise.

Perhaps, he mused, there was indeed a way this alliance could work out. "Well then," the smith clapped his hands once. The finality of his words didn't escape him. "Let us proceed."

[rainbow-scarab]

Sly's Past in the Crossroads

I coulda sworn I put this on my blog but perhaps I mix it up with all those times I've told people on Discord so XD here we are. Theory post time.

Sly used to live in the Crossroads, in that little village where you first find him. I think this for a few reasons.

First, I must speak of Sly's age.

The stasis seems to have some odd effects on bugs, some of which seem to have lived a long time. I'm just assuming that aspect of stasis for this post. Sly trained the Nailmasters, and is almost certainly older than them. Some of Sheo's dialog has him speak of the Great Knights (and sculpt them). He seems quite familiar, at least for someone with an interest in the kingdom's warriors. But according to Lemm, "Both [the Great Knight's] names and appearance seem to have been expunged from history." So it seems Sheo, and by extension Sly, are old enough to have been around during Hallownest's heyday, perhaps centuries ago.

This raises an interesting contradiction. The game manual calls Elderbug "the oldest resident of Dirtmouth". Dirtmouth, it seems, has been living on the edge of the Kingdom, free of the stasis. Elderbug looks and acts old, but he's just....normal old, not supernaturally old like Sly. He doesn't know what Hallownest was like long ago except in stories. When you open the stag station in Dirtmouth, he says "That building lay silent since before even my time."

So, what to do with this discrepancy? Surely Team Cherry could never make a mistake, could they?? If Sly was originally from somewhere else, perhaps that could explain the wording that Elderbug is Dirtmouth's oldest.

(I've heard some say there are some mistakes in the game manual as compared to the game XD it could be for this but that's not all I have here for my theory)

We find Sly in that little village, the same one where we find Gruz Mother and Salubra, in a house that's falling apart. He's partially infected, though Ghost is able to break him out of his haze. Bugs become infected through their dreams. Bardoon says:

I resist the light's allure. Union it may offer, but also a mind bereft of thought… To instinct alone a bug is reduced…

We see reference to the instinctual state of bugs as well in a few entries of the Hunter's Journal, such as guards continuing to act as guards. Sly is not as far gone, but I had to wonder. Why does dream lead him there? To a village that's mostly dead? He thinks of Oro, his past pupil, and whoever Esmy is (I think another prior (and probably dead) pupil, but that's for another post). When Ghost breaks him out of his early state of infection, he says:

…I see. This old village. What a strange dream, to have led me down here! If you hadn't found me, I don't think I would've ever woken.

He seems to recognize it instantly, even from the inside of a broken house. I think he used to live there, in that same house. A place he knew well, ingrained in him deeper than his current house (and life) in Dirtmouth. Where even if half asleep his feet could carry him there on instinct.

...Lastly. I think. I think Sly and Salubra used to be dating XDDDDDD sorry I am subjecting you all to this. But I have reason to believe it. Or at least that they were flirty in the past.

I think Salubra talks to Ghost somewhat like she used to talk to Sly. She calls Ghost a "gadfly" a couple of times. And this word has a few meanings. One is literally a kind of fly, and Sly is a fly as well. Another is "social butterfly", which could be what Salubra is thinking of (especially with calling Ghost "stylish" and "dapper" alongside the word). BUT THE THIRD DEFINITION--

WHO'S MORE OF A BLOODSUCKER THAN SLY LOLLLLLLL

I rest my case, Salubra used to call Sly her dapper gadfly, Slylubra canon

.

.

(ahem, my primary evidence is mostly the dream instinct aspect as far as Sly's former home, but shhhh Sly/Salubra is clearly the most important outcome of the lore XD)

[hetaestoniahq]

"Who is Estonia?"

A series of responses heavily based on little facts of culture and history with the Nordic-Baltic 8. This is just a fun little short way I thought of to talk about their relationships and history. Pretty much everything is a reference to something. This is all for fun! :D

FINLAND

Two out of three of the only independent Uralic countries to exist. You’d think it would be a heavy burden to carry, but it’s easier not being alone.

Even when I was the one to wrong him, Eduard did not change his stance. Guess it's part of being family to not always see eye to eye. It never discouraged him from rushing to my aid even when things were hard for him too. Eduard refused to let any hardship stop him from bleeding for my country. Ridiculously stubborn he is - but it’s been one of his greatest strengths. Of course I repaid him, then he proceeded to do it again. It's like a cycle of fighting for each other's freedom, one I was unable to continue because what I could do had became incredibly limited. These limited set of actions still seemed to mean the world to him. Re-independence had its rough patches, but more than ever were we glad to both be free and have each other again.

Eduard always wants what's best for both of us. He doesn't want any one of us to end up in the hands of our Eastern neighbours and puts so much time and effort into our cooperation and safety. Why do you think he became so dedicated in Cybersecurity? If he can't be a physical powerhouse, he'll be a powerhouse of the mind. Even when I was uncertain of what I will do, he did not pressure me. Instead, he promised that no matter what I decide, he will always be there for me, no matter what.

The only flag I want to see down south is a tricolour blue-black-blue, if the sun one day rises without it then I will know I have failed as a brother.

🇫🇮💙🇪🇪

NORWAY

I didn’t expect us to have many things alike outside similarities that are basic and expected for a northern nation. Never expected that something as simple as common patterns among our sweaters, hats and mittens could mean a lot more in hindsight. Another is the familiar feeling of having been thrown between nations and finally being independent again- even if our stories on that are much different.

When life told him no, he looked for another way- even though his government in exile continued to operate elsewhere, the mere fact that it was founded in Norway seemed to mean a lot to him. Perhaps it was my way of making up for the time he bled for me as well. When his own freedom was compromised, he would not sit idly and watch as someone he cared about was fighting for the same reason. As small as it may have seemed in the big picture, it is the passion and care that counts.

Estonia has always wanted to bridge any gaps between us. Inviting my people to sing in song festivals, making work deals, rushing to create a flight connection for a direct method of transport. It seems like every year Estonia finds ways to bring us a little closer, be it economic or cultural.

I too know the weight of sharing a border with Russia, partially to have so much history of dealing with him.. The Baltic’s strength is commendable.

Keep singing, songbird.

🇳🇴❤️🇪🇪

LATVIA

Long ago I used to hate Estonia. We used to be at each other's throats declaring each other “blood enemies”. It's a little funny looking back on it, the way history went on to tie us so close together. Together we saw countless wars, famines, storms, rarely were we separated through it. Sometimes I'd ask him “What do you think the world will throw at us next?” And he'd look at me and simply shrug “We'll see.”

A moment of truth was when we both fought for independence, for two new nations to be formed.

When I was backstabbed by the people who had tormented both of us for centuries, It was then I saw how our relationship had changed over the ages when Estonia without question stepped up to fight by my side. So casually my fight became his fight, no strings attached.

Estonia, his culture and language is notably different from mine, but must that mean we can't be brothers too? What brought us together was our experiences, not our blood. This applies to most of us, all I have been left with in regards to any sense of family is Lithuania. It would be a sad reality to live in if I considered only one country as worth being brothers with.

Estonia with his bond with Finland is the bridge that ties the Nordic-Baltic 8 together, but that doesn't mean me and Lithuania don't contribute to it either!

🇱🇻❤️🇪🇪

LITHUANIA

You'd think that with how different our history till the last century is, that I would be a weak link in all this, right?

I would not say so, even if there's some truth in the fact that I am not as close to Estonia as some others might be, it's the continuous effort to bring us together that counts.

Our old history includes fights here and there, the Balt Estonia once held close is no longer with us and with the Finnic brothers he has seen fade - he shares our pain of loss. Our enemies have often been the same, but back then we failed to see unity. What would have happened if we realised that far sooner? We’ll never know.

Our time together under the commonwealth was brief but the time under Russian rule slowly gave us a new opportunity.

The moment all three of us became independent, Estonia was the one to seek ways to bring us closer. Of course the main motive for it was to stand together stronger in the scenario of our east neighbour attacking, it still planted seeds for more than just that.

Latvia may be the one linking the Baltics together, but if it was necessary for me to be the one to reach out and hold his hand instead - I would not find it strange.

I'll always enjoy sitting back and enjoying some ice cream together, basking under a shared free sun.

🇱🇹❤️🇪🇪

ICELAND

I know the feeling of not being seen or heard, I decided a change was needed and took the first step. I never expected how much my simple words of “I recognize you as an independent country” would be worth more than gold. I became seen as a true friend, a “fellow small country”, an icebreaker, a name immortalised on a memorial- for just stubbornly expressing my stance? They seemed surprised when I showed my gratitude with a similar gesture.

Neither of us care for large mighty extravagant buildings as tourist attractions, instead we value and guide people to explore what mother nature has gifted us. I appreciate having him around. Even if I were the only Nordic to feel this way - I would still speak up for him.

🇮🇸❤️🇪🇪

DENMARK

Resilient, stubborn and always ready to improve - that's how I would describe Estonia.

I was part of the era that turned his history dark, I had celebrated victory for conquering a fierce land. When I had pointed my sword to his throat to submit him to the Danish crown, Estonia stood up and said “I will never die, no matter what you do to me.”

That was a promise.

Instead of looking at me with distaste for what I did to him so long ago, these memories instead are proof that we have always been connected. The flag of my nation - Dannebrog, stands as the strongest symbol of that. Hah! Why do you think Tallinn keeps showing it off all over the place? Give the coat of arms a closer look while you're at it! My guess is it's how Eduard expresses holding something dear.

It was like a hit of nostalgia to come back 700 years after that battle, hearing of Eduard’s fight for independence.

Like repaying a debt of honour, I couldn't sit back and watch a wounded land fight against a giant alone. I knew I had to do at least something, even if the government was not the most supportive of it. Two hundred men out of two thousands who were able to go and able to risk their lives in the end may seem small, but their effort was a success that brought honour to the crown.

This turn in history gave us another chance to start over, kindling a friendship neither of us thought we could ever have, before being struck with another turn that took him away from us again. I sat in silence refusing to accept it until he and his Baltic brothers reminded the world of their existence and stepped up to stand in support.

I made sure to keep the promises I made. I had 50 lost years to make up for, so I gave a hand in as many areas as I possibly could.

I'm proud to be his friend and I know that if he falls then I might too, which is why I know I can never let that happen. Never again will I let that happen.

🇩🇰❤️🇪🇪

SWEDEN

Most people don't realise how far back we go.

I saw Eduard at his fiercest point, a land that would strike fear into kings and just as easily burn what he didn’t like. He wasn’t someone to upset and yet I kept poking at him like a bear with a stick.

He allowed my people to come as settlers into uninhabited areas, despite his experience with foreigners taking and taking from him. Those settlers seemingly became a natural part of his nation, honoured even if most of them are now gone.

Something I quickly learned was how studious Eduard is, someone who picks up new skills incredibly fast. To think Eduard steadily became one of the most literate parts of the Russian empire back in the day makes me wonder how much of it was the seeds of education I planted or his hard work in fighting to keep it.

I tried my best to give my part in his fight for independence, turns out my support in this fight had been something his people had fantasized for decades. To think that after the way I left the people would continue to hold Sweden so dear in their hearts as the words “Good ol’ Swedish age” would be carried from generation to generation. Of course once given the opportunity we reconnected, provided a warm welcome.

Guilt gnawed at me every year as freedom had been so easily robbed from him again. I made mistakes. Mistakes I've apologised for repeatedly. Because of all the people given a chance of freedom and a normal life that my land gave - it's been forgiven. Sweden became a place where people could gather and continue the fight in safety - I am proud to have been able to have a role like that.

I am glad to have been given the chance to now stand as close to equals as possible.

All I hope is that Eduard learns to truly value and love himself more, do not let the ignorant voices shake him now.

🇸🇪❤️🇪🇪

All of us together, we will thrive as the Nordic-Baltic 8 and all of us are glad to have Estonia be part of it. It wouldn't be the same without any one of us, which is why we will continue to stand together no matter what others try to claim we are.

With love,

Northern Europe

🇮🇸🇳🇴🇩🇰🇸🇪🇫🇮🇪🇪🇱🇻🇱🇹

[everettes-requiem]

why talk about the others when i can talk about myself? i find it rather offensive you’re even asking about them.. but oh well. at least it’s about my opinion and not a “oh how are they?” “say hi to someone for me!”, otherwise i would have gone mad.

some are more bearable than others,

for example: simon, despite being all loony and ruining the choir’s look with his constant faints and i assure you, it is majorly trying to have to haul his addled self up to a place where he can rest, he can be dare i say pleasant sometimes. he may speak nonsense at times, but he’s one to help, useful, and i guess he’s... kind, something very far and few inbetween. perhaps that’s why no one really likes him, people don’t like those who are different. he’s still very much batty ‘hough, it would be better if he didn’t share his thoughts

then there’s ralph. he’s, fine i suppose. it’s just, it’s rather hard to tell with him. i mean, it’s difficult to form a solid opinion on him considering he… he’s odd, and little seem to notice it or see him that way. i don’t know how else to describe it which is shocking, i know. as someone who got full marks in writing, you’d think i’d have enough adjectives known to describe him. but, even then, there are special cases. my father told me you don’t want to be special, at least not like that, because then you’ll be sent where the mental are. i’m special though, but in a reverenced way and i don’t mean he’s odd like a roger odd, or maurice odd. it’s just, one moment he’s splashing about in the water like a littlun and the next he’s so serious about duties. first he’s so friendly with that god awful merridew, and next he’s to simon, and then he and piggy are attached. he’s a leader, and suddenly he’s a coward. but, as much as i would like to keep going i can’t say much, to be fair i did vote for him even if it was only to spite merridew

i do absolutely hate it ‘hough when he’s always going “everette! go and build a hut!”, get it in your mind that i’ve self designated myself to fire duty. why ask me to build a hut? im not going to get all dirty, you mangy ket.

oh and don’t get me started on piggy. it’s always all blether with him, i can barely stand him. even me saying his name is making my head hurt because apparently that’s all he likes to do. i’ll admit, his ideas could have a smidge of potential if it weren’t for how narking he is, it’s all whine with him and all he talks about is “oh but my aunt” and “ralph, my asthma!”. the only thing he’s useful for isn’t even himself, but his glasses. i mean, how else would we start the fire? i’m sure if he didn’t have those then he would have lived true to his name, all the other boys would have butchered him by now, if he wasn’t already slaughtered by the amount offenses thrown his way.

merridew, jack merridew. the way he speaks, the way he looks, the way he acts, the way his gritting voice sings kyrie eleison? he’s an absolute fool and i hate him, i despise every part of him. and you might be saying that i’m over exaggerating, that i simply am overestimating the extent of it, but i know well how i feel about him. everyone knows it, i know it, he knows it, and i have no problem letting you know either. you wanted to know my opinion so badly after all. you wouldn’t understand.

merridew has always been someone who has been intertwined into my life no matter how much i try to untangle myself. in school he was always the one to raise his hand first, just a second before me. in choir he was always the one appointed to lead small sections for some reason while the director was gone for a few moments despite the fact i sing better, i keep counts better. when there was church it seemed as though his bible was apart of him, praise following him for being so devout. i knew how he truly was though, i knew that the choir prefect, chapter choister, merridew was really just a pathetic boy.

one day, i told myself. i’d be free, be rid, from the wretchedness that consumed me. but no, god had other plans. grace was not given when we crashed on this island. stuck with merridew, more stuck than i ever have been. the way he’s so adamant about hunt, about that pursuit for blood. the way he sharpens a stick made spear, found no doubt about the bouts of forest. salvation, i need salvation. hate, gods i hate him. i hate him, i hate his freckled face, i hate his eyesore ginger hair, i hate the way he looks at me. he will never be better than me.

— everette ainsworth

[s1lv3rp4w3dc4t]

shout out object shows with canon queer ships. I'm talking on screen kiss or even just verbal confirmation. all things considered it's a bit strange you don't really see them that much when you think about how gay everyone here is. I love you ii but c2bc did what you didn't and I think that's actually really nice.

[baileyfox1999]

Couple months ago I asked my brother which bsd character he thinks he would like and he told me he think he'd like chuuya

And I am not at all surprised

When I got into bsd I remember thinking chuuya would be the kind of character my brother likes