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flamboyantly-incompetent · 1 year ago

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OoTP, Chapter 3 - Your First Lessons

Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader

Warnings: none?

Masterlist

Word Count: ~4,800

Note: the length of this one kind of got away from me, can't lie. usually my method of proof reading / editing is retyping the whole thing from my text editor to tumblr but this was taking me days with all the other stuff I have going on, so if there are more weird typos than usual that's why and I'm sorry

Saturday morning came, and you woke up and groaned at the ceiling. You hoped that if you pressed your pillow onto your head hard enough you could go back in time to stop yourself from offering tutoring to the biggest git at Hogwarts.

Wilbur sat down on your chest and started purring.

"Gff mrng," you mumbled from under your pillow. He began kneading your chest. You sighed and removed the pillow. "I suppose you'd like some treats." He pushed his wet nose into your face, so you pushed back your bed curtains to find an open bag. Donna was awake too, stretching in bed.

When she saw you were up, she said, "You getting breakfast? I think Yvette is already gone - she said something about Quidditch before passing out last night."

"Nah, I've gotta get to the greenhouses. I'm tutoring someone today."

"Who?" She sat next to you on your bed, scratching under Wilbur's chin.

You grimaced. "Uh, you probably don't know him. He's a fifth year. A Slytherin."

Donna laughed, then said, "Oh, you're serious? Well, ha! Good luck."

"Thanks. Keep him company, will you?" You pulled on a pair of jeans and a lime green and peach jumper your mum had described as 'hideous, but warm,' and headed out the door.

Before the greenhouses though, you needed to make a stop in the library if you were going to help Malfoy rewrite his self-fertalizing shrubs essay, which, thankfully, was about as easy to find as the great hall.

Halfway down the corridor you heard Peeves singing at the top of his ethereal lungs, "Saturday! Ink hooray! Why are you working? Saturday! Time to play! Good luck without your ink!" followed by the unmistakable sound of ink bottles shattering against stone. To be fair to Peeves, that was the nicest thing you'd ever heard him sing.

A Gryffindor came sprinting round the corner, dripping in ink, followed closely by the Gryffindor ghost.

"Oh, hey Ginny. Rough morning?"

She scowled, "I don't know why I even bother. Scourgify." She tapped herself with her wand, and the ink melted into the think air.

"I'll go get the Bloody Baron," the ghost said before drifting off into the wall.

"You don't happen to have any spare ink, do you?" asked Ginny. "I've procrastinated too much on that nonmagical transportation essay for Muggle Studies."

"Yep, s'all yours. Is the library...?"

"I'd wait for Nick to get back. Peeves has totally blocked the door. He's actually trapped a couple students and Madam Pince inside."

"Great." You peered around the corner; inside the library Peeves was doing a jig atop a toppled bookcase leaning against the door and throwing books with every kick. Madam Pince repaired them as quick as he could rip them apart. You watched, horrified and baffled, through the windows lining the library until the Bloody Baron appeared a few minutes later. He drifted up out of the floor and bellowed at Peeves incoherently, who then disappeared into the ceiling in a fright.

You ducked under the fallen bookcase and gingerly stepped through the books littering the ground, glancing at titles. You found a few that would suffice and stuffed them into your bag, and left to find your way back out to the greenhouse.

A few other students were already there, milling around with watering cans and bags of fertilizer.

Draco Malfoy waited for you by the vegetable patches, wearing a green argyle sweater vest over a pristine white button-down -why he chose that to garden in a mystery you wouldn't venture to guess- staring at his shoes.

He looked up and met your eye; his mouth fell open but before he could speak, you said, "Did you bring your essay?"

He nodded sharply. "I wasn't sure you were still coming."

"Oh? And why was that?" you snarked, walking past him to greenhouse 5. He trotted to keep up with you.

"Well, you seemed pretty mad the other day."

"Don't know what you mean. Sit." You held out your hand for the essay. At the top you saw, "T- see me" scrawled in Professor Sprout's handwriting, and you began to scan through. It was truly dreadful, not only was it several inches too short, it made the argument that the shrub bore fruit that, when it fell, turned into excrement that put nutrients back into the soil. "Where did you get this information? Don't tell me you made it up!"

"She gave us homework the first day!"

"So did everyone else, small wonder this is so bad. I have brought actual, real sources for you to pull from in your new essay." You ripped the old one in half with a flourish. "And we'll never speak of this one again."

Draco huffed, "How is anyone supposed to come up with a foot of yammering about a shrub?" You shot him a dark look, your patience wearing thin. "Fine, fine. Where do I start?"

You handed him a tome entitled Carnivorous Flora - Reversal in the Food Chain and said, "Chapter three."

"Carnivorous?"

"Read," you commanded, pointing firmly at the book, "and we'll talk after you've got the broad strokes. I'm going to get some things set up for your snapdragons; Professor Sprout may be lenient and regrade that as well. They'll be on the O.W.L. anyway." You found the snapdragon; it wasn't difficult since the tips of its petals were still discolored from the acidic soil, and pulled down the limestone, as well as powdered moonstone, ground horsefly wings, and gargoyle blood. Draco was still skimming, so you took a moment to fill a watering can from the pump outside again, not willing to fail at that bloody water creation charm in front of him.

"Well?" you asked, setting the water down.

"This is absurd. These things eat people. There's a whole section about how to keep them from eating you."

You pointed at your bag, "In Travels with Trolls there's a fairly detailed account of an accidental encounter with one while Gilderoy Lockhart was searching for trolls in the caves of Sweden. There are pictures in that one there - Flesh-Eating Trees of the World - for reference."

"God, that's disgusting."

"Yep. Am I safe in assuming that you've written a passable essay before?"

Draco scowled. "Well, yeah, but where do I even start with this? I can't very well write a foot on how to survive a flesh eating bush attack for Herbology."

"Ok," you sat down next to him and pulled out some new parchment and a quill. "We can start with an outline, and you can do the writing on your own." You walked through the important sections - climate, soil quality, how best to care for the plant - and picked out various bits of helpful text.

You continued, "If you need more length after that, it's always nice to not why someone would want to cultivate a species. These produce seed pods that are rich in iron, used in various medicinal concoctions, see here?" you pointed to a page in the potions textbook for second years. "Otherwise, once you've covered the basics of having the thing in your garden, just find something about it that interests you and expand on it. That should get you to a foot of parchment, and at least an A."

You stood up and stretched a bit before moving onto the snapdragons.

They were whining in a weak, rather pathetic way. Draco watched with a creased brow as you explained how their petals acted as a pH test, and you could tell his soil was too acidic based on the green tinge around the petals' edges. You pointed to the things you'd pulled out and said, "The limestone is the gentlest way to raise the pH, but I think for you the moonstone should do fine. You want purple edges, if they turn blue you've gone too far - add some gargoyle blood. Works as well as leaf mold, but these things love blood."

He took a pinch of the powdered moonstone and sprinkled it close to the base of the stems. "How do you know so much about this?" The petals lost their sickly hue and softened into yellow.

"My mum runs a potions supply shop. We grow almost everything we've seen in class."

"And that's why you're in Herbology 5?"

"Yeah, Professor Sprout convinced Dumbledore to let me skip ahead a bit because I kept interrupting her in first year." Draco continued to sprinkle the moonstone on his firebreathing snapdragons, and their leaves finally turned the right shade of purple. "Stop! That's perfect. Now you want to annoy them until they start glowing red, then be ready to douse. I'll go get a bottle." He managed to rather cleanly bottle beautifully plum smoke right up to the brim, and despite your lingering distaste, you bloomed with just a little bit of pride at his success.

The sun had been climbing steadily during your activities, and by the time the bottle of smoke was tucked into Draco Malfoy's bag, along with the reference books you pulled for him, it was obviously noon by the way the rays beat down through the greenhouse's glass roof and the way your stomach rumbled with fervor. He thanked you rather brusquely, the conflict of Thursday apparently remembered, and strutted back off into the castle.

The next Herbology lesson rolled around, and while Draco refused to meet your eye during Professor Sprout's lecture on the screechsnap, on your way out the door you heard, "Y/N! Hang on!"

He had jogged out into the sprinkling rain, bag held above his head, and handed a roll of parchment to you. It was his rewritten essay, a hastily written "E" and smiley face at the top.

"She accepted the smoke too." Though good news, his expression remained rather stoic. You cocked an eyebrow. "I owe you one."

"Don't worry about it," you said before turning to walk away.

He followed you into the castle, "No, really, I owe you. I don't understand why else you'd offer-"

"Because I could. Is that not good enough?" You shook your robes off in front of a fireplace, eyebrows knit together. "And you desperately needed it. If you need any help with the screechsnaps let me know - they can be a bit nippy."

His mouth opened and closed a few times, a bit like a fish out of water. "You clearly don't like me though, no accounting for taste, but I don't-"

"I like you fine when you aren't being a git or ignoring me for no reason. Besides, this has nothing to do with-"

He got quieter, glancing around at the other students walking through the hall, "I just don't want anyone to know - just if my father found out I need help in Herbology, from a fourth year in Hufflepuff-"

"And what's that supposed to mean? Nevermind, I don't care. I have to get to Potions. Goodbye." You huffed away from him, fuming and damp, asking yourself repeatedly why me?

Though you had a sinking feeling that every conversation with Draco Malfoy would be a contentious one, Saturday morning after the third week of the academic year you were inhaling a muffin on your way to greenhouse 5. You weren’t sure if it was a good idea to continue tutoring, or if Draco would even show up, and your stomach was turning over at the thought of it. Yet, once you sat down at one of the benches, you saw that silver-blond hair glint harshly through the tinted glass and the knot in your gut loosened. He jerked open the door and paused.

You gestured at the bench across from you. “This time I wasn’t sure if you were showing up,” you joked weakly.

“Well, as you so deftly pointed out, I desperately need help.”

The morning was tense as you explained the homework - getting the screechsnaps to sing and harmonize - but by the end you thought you may have a way to lighten the mood. You just hoped you were right.

“So,” you began slowly, “you still owe me one?”

Draco’s eyebrows narrowed. “Yes.”

“I think I’ve thought of something. Do you know the water conjuration charm?”

He pulled his wand from his pocket unceremoniously, tapped the nearest empty pot and commanded, “Aguamenti.” The pot filled to the brim with perfectly clear, almost sparkling, water.

“I’m absolute pixie piss at Transfiguration, but I’ve had to use the hand-pump outside since forever, and I wondered if you could help me with it?”

“This is the favor you want from me,” he said, deadpan.

“Yeah,” you said, trying to sound casual. “That way no one owes anyone, and no one has to know.”

“And you’re ok with that all of a sudden?”

“Well I don’t love the idea, but it’s not like we need to be friends, right? This is just a mutually beneficial academic exchange.” He raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, I just can’t tell if you’re angry or not and I use big words when I’m nervous. But I can’t think of a reason why you would be angry, so I’m confused too. You gotta give me something here.”

He sat back on the bench and exhaled heavily. “No, I mean, I just thought, nevermind. Yeah, you’ve got a deal.”

“Great.” You shifted and looked at him expectantly, hoping he’d take the hint and teach you how to do the spell that’s been giving you grief since you read about it. McGonagall kept telling you it was “advanced” and you shouldn’t worry about it, but you’d show her.

Draco blinked a couple times. “What, now?”

“If you have the time, please.”

“Uh, alright.” He tossed the water from the pot onto the greenhouse’s floor and plunked it in front of you. “Let’s see what we’re working with.”

You took a deep breath, pulled out you wand, and cleared your throat, then said, “Aguamenti.” There was a long pause while nothing came out of your wand. You knit your eyebrows together and tried again. “Aguamenti.” There was another long pause and heat crept swiftly into your cheeks. You shrugged and looked at Draco as if to say, “See?”

“Don’t be offended by this, but have you ever transfigured anything?”

“How could I possibly be offended by that,” you said in disbelief. The absolute audacity. Though you hated to admit it, there was some truth there as you thought back to last year and your inability to ever correctly transform a teapot into a tortoise. “Like I said. Pixie piss.”

“Maybe we should start with something simpler. What was the last thing you did that seemed easy?”

You grimaced. “The match to needle spell in first year.” He snorted rather derisively, his cold grey eyes rolling in his stupid head. You crossed your arms, indignation rising hot in your gut. You blurted out defensively, “At least I’m not just a lazy, entitled muppet-”

“Now, see here-”

“No! Why is my inadequacy any funnier than yours?” He stood up, still gripping his want tightly, eyes angry and flitting to and from the door. You held your hands up in surrender, “Look, I’m sorry. But this is never going to work if we take turns insulting each other’s intelligence - it’s just school, so it’s normal to need help, right? Though I stand by lazy, I think that’s accurate.”

He sat back down in a huff. “How so?”

“You could’ve passed the essay if you’d done any research to begin with - it’s clear you aren’t stupid, but asking Professor Sprout to curve your grade because of whoever your parents are instead of just doing the work is my definition of lazy.” He mumbled something under his breath. “What?”

He grumbled, “I sort of see your point.”

You grinned cheekily, “What?”

“You heard me.”

“I did. Now, are you going to teach me how to conjure water or not?”

He rolled up his sleeves and cited the transformation formula - bodyweight, viciousness, wand power, concentration, and a fifth unknown variable - before gesturing to his own wand. “Hawthorn, unicorn hair. Sufficient wand power. What’s yours?”

“Oh, uh, chestnut, unicorn hair.”

He nodded, “Bodyweight and viciousness has nothing to do with you, so it must be the concentration component.”

You huffed, “Well that’s not helpful.”

“Would you just relax?”

“Sorry,” you grumbled.

“Transfiguration almost always works for me,” you rolled your eyes, “because, my theory anyway, I almost always believe it will. And I stay focused. So, instead of concentration, try confidence and focus.”

You squinted doubtfully; how could you possibly convince yourself that the spell which hadn’t worked would suddenly? Though, you had to admit it made some amount of sense. And Draco seemed to have some idea what he was talking about. The spell worked for him after all. A transfiguration spell. Wasn’t it just transfiguring air into water? Steam found its way and dissipated into the air all the time. Surely the things were related.

“Ok,” you said to yourself, “I’m ready.” You squared your shoulders and readjusted the grip on your wand. Draco nodded once, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. “Aguamenti.” You couldn’t believe your eyes. A healthy stream fell from the tip of your wand into the bucket. But then you looked up, excited, and it sputtered out.

Draco smiled smugly, “You lost focus. But better.” He stood up. “I think this will work. But if we can avoid it I’d rather not meet here every Saturday. I’ll find somewhere more secluded; I don’t want to have to explain what I’m doing in the greenhouses to every Hufflepuff pruning some vegetable.”

At first you were prepared to protest, but looking around, there were only going to be more people here on weekends as the term advanced - especially O.W.L. students. “Ok, some days we will need to be here, though. The conceptual lessons only go so far; Herbology is very hands-on. And I can’t imagine where would be a secluded place at Hogwarts on a Saturday that won’t be overrun with couples.” He waved a hand, “I’ll take care of it, don’t worry.”

“Alright, let me know when you’ve figured it out then.” You stood up to gather your things.

Draco, at the door, turned around and asked, “By the way, I never asked - did you make the team?”

“What? Oh, Quidditch. No, I’m a substitute though.”

“Ah, too bad. You’re a decent flier.” He left you standing dumbfounded in the greenhouse, uncomfortable and flighty heat flooding your cheeks.

The next Saturday Draco found you leaving the great hall after breakfast. He had been lurking behind the beveled arch of a window, and you yelped when he materialized from the shadow. He shushed you and pulled you around under the arch with him.

“Are you insane?” you whispered, poking your head out, wondering if Yvette had seen. It looked like her early morning Quidditch practices were doing you a favor - she seemed totally unawares as she slumped away back to the common room.

“I’ve found a place,” in addition to his usual school bag, he was carrying two boxes - one wrapped like a package, the other with holes poked in the top - he continued more quietly, “Meet me on the Quidditch pitch, at the base of the Professors’ stand, in fifteen minutes.”

Before you could ask any questions, he hopped through the open window and strolled out onto the grounds. Despite your confusion, you did arrive on the Quidditch pitch and found his head poking out from under the checkered cloth covering the stands.

He waved at you hurriedly, “C’mon! Under here!”

You followed him under, asking, “Here? What if we get caught? We’ll get in so much trouble.”

“Nah,” he said, brushing off his trousers and pointing to the pin on his lapel, “We won’t - I am a prefect, after all.”

Under the stand, a fairly large if short space, very little light filtered through the cover and the bare ground was patchy and hard, not to mention freezing. The first rafter nearly brushed the top of Draco’s head. “Oh, ok…” you said, rubbing your arms and trying not to shiver.

Draco smirked and picked up the box wrapped like a package. “My mum sent this to me this morning.” Inside was a perfectly round stone, which he set on the ground in one of the corners. “This should do the trick. Lapis Ignis.” A faint light grew from within the stone, and the air was warmer immediately - the light became a tiny, crackling fire trapped behind a thin layer of the stone. “It’s a portable fireplace. I told her I’d been getting cold at night. Our common room’s under the lake, so.”

The tenseness in your shoulders relaxed with the warmth. You set down your bag on the ground thoughtfully. “This could work. Next time I may bring a picnic blanket though.”

“I was getting to that. I did say I’d take care of it, didn’t I?” He pulled a large green and black checkered quilt from his bag that looked far too nice to be putting on the ground, and tossed it into the air. You tilted your head to your right shoulder sharply. Draco didn’t miss a beat. He whipped out his wand and muttered something, and before the quilt started to fall it opened in ripples and settled itself neatly on the ground.

The borders on the quilt were all embroidered with little silver snakes.

“You really bleed Slytherin, don’t you?”

“It is the best house.”

You laughed, until you realized he was not at all joking. “Well, everyone thinks their house is the best house, don’t they?”

“They might think that. But, really, there’s no contest.”

Well, you disagreed there pretty strongly, but given he’d turned his attention to whatever else he brought with him, you decided there was no use in arguing. You rolled your eyes, “Anyway, do I wanna know what’s in that box?” You pointed to the one with holes poked into the lid.

“Right, this is for Transfiguration. I borrowed it from McGonagall this morning.” He opened the box and coaxed the thing inside out onto the blanket.

It was a hedgehog.

“Don’t worry, I’ll return it when we’re done here.” It’s cute little nose was working overtime, snuffling around on the quilt.

You knelt on the edge of the quilt across from him, careful to keep your shoes off of it. “Poor thing looks nervous. You didn’t bring any treats, did you?”

“Why would I have brought treats? We’re gonna turn it into a pin cushion, not invite it over for tea.”

“No need to get snippy,” you said, trying to rub a bit of your scent onto the quilt. Draco watched dubiously. Softly, to the hedgehog, you said, “No, no need to get snippy. You’re a cute tiny thing, aren’t you? Yes, of course.”

Draco cleared his throat.

“Right, sorry. We’ll start with Transfiguration, then?”

An hour later, you had succeeded in turning the hedgehog’s quills into pins, matches, and threads, but the hedgehog remained a hedgehog and never a pincushion. Draco’s brow had knit together furiously and he tried with growing fervor to explain the spell to no avail. Finally, he sat back on his heels and sighed, head thrown back.

“Well,” he said before a long pause, “it’s an improvement at least. Shall we move on to Herbology?”

“Oh thank heavens.” Your spine relaxed as you waved your wand and the hedgehog’s pins turned back into quills. “Professor Sprout tells me we’ll be getting to fanged geraniums soon; they’re not complicated but forgetting a step can get you bitten and that will scar no matter what Madam Pomfrey puts on it.”

Another hour passed, and you had taken off your shoes to sit cross-legged on the quilt, open book in your lap and happily napping hedgehog under a fold of your cloak. Draco had begun tapping his wand against his knee in frustration. “Remember,” you said, “they’re sentient beings. They really don’t want you to take their fangs - you have to reason with them.”

“How?” he said hotly, “How do I ‘reason’ with it?”

You shrugged. “A trade typically works. I’ve got one at home who likes acorns to decorate its pot. Or you could convince it that you need the fangs more than it does, like in Wandering with Werewolves.”

“This is absurd. I feel silly.”

You smirked, sensing a foothold. “And you’re going to let that stop you? I thought you wanted to be a… something?”

“I thought it could be fun to be a curse-breaker. For Gringotts.”

“Ah, and when you’re breaking curses all over the world, and you miss a trap because your tie gets crumpled and you need to make a blood-replenishing potion or you’ll bleed out, are you going to hesitate asking for a trade from the nearest fanged geranium? Or will you feel too silly?”

He paused. “You’re kind of an ass, you know?”

“Says the kettle. What do you do?”

But Draco never had the chance to answer, as the curtain began to lift. You shared a panicked look for a moment. A large eagle-owl came tramping into the space, feathers ruffled, carrying a letter on its leg. Draco held out his arm for the bird, “Here, Montague.” Montague settled himself on Draco’s shoulder and began preening, clearly affronted, and Draco plucked the letter from his leg. The parchment was gilded on the edge and sealed with inky black wax. His brow furrowed as he read. “I have to go,” he said, looking up quickly, “Now. I’m sorry.”

“That’s ok,” you picked up the hedgehog to return him to his box. “I can return him to McGonagall for you, if it’s urgent.”

He nodded, “Same place next week?” He tapped the stone and the light went out, the chill creeping back into your bones at once. You stood up and helped him fold the quilt before he stuffed it back into his bag along with the stone.

You sat back down next to the hedgehog’s box to pull on your shoes. “Sure. But don’t think we’ve moved on from fanged geraniums.”

He laughed shallowly, silver hair falling limply on his forehead.

“C’mon Montague.” He lifted the curtain and stooped to climb out, then looked back rather regretfully. “Sorry, thanks, uh… bye.”

“Bye,” you said to the closed curtain. “Lumos,” you whispered, and your wand lit up so you could tie your shoes. That was strange, wasn’t it? You brushed some dirt off your jeans as you stood and picked up the hedgehog.

The week following crawled on agonizingly slowly, and, to make matters worse, the stairs seemed particularly driven to keep you from any and all destinations. It had put you in a rather sour mood. So sour, in fact, that when Professor Umbridge made an unexpected appearance in Arithmancy, and proceeded to interrupt Professor Vector every two minutes to ask her to repeat herself in “more general language,” after class you couldn’t help but complain about it the second she was out of earshot.

“It’s like she has no understanding of the subjects she’s evaluating,” you moaned to Luna, the both of you on your way to Charms. “She doesn’t even have a grasp on her own subject, I’d bet any number of galleons on it.”

She nodded thoughtfully, “It does seem that way. But I don’t think Fudge cares much about her being a competent teacher.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well she’s clearly meant to be a competent spy.”

“Hey - Luna. Oh, hi Y/N,” Ginny came hopping up from behind, swinging an arm through each of yours. “Where’re you off to?”

“Charms,” you grumbled.

Luna’s eyes sparked with her sly smile. “Professor Umbridge sat in on Arithmancy. We’ve been discussing-”

“We’ve been complaining, Luna, tell it how it is.”

“Well it’s funny you mention her,” Ginny started, lowering her tone as other students passed. “How do you feel about the current quality of your education?”

Luna replied, “Not good.”

You said, “Pixie piss.”

“And how would you feel about learning from a more practiced source?”

You cocked an eyebrow, “Who?”

“Harry Potter.”

You let out a laugh, “Excuse me?”

Luna thought for a moment, her eyes glazing over, then said, “He should be a font of experience, theoretically. To survive He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named not once, but twice is quite a qualification.”

You felt Ginny’s gaze before you met it, her eyes searching and only a touch wary. You sighed, “Well I don’t know what happened last year but I don’t think he’s a murderer, or crazy. So I guess I believe him. What’s this about?”

Ginny, apparently satisfied, leaned in closer. “We’re having a meeting. This Saturday at the Hog’s Head in Hogsmeade. At noon. Just to talk things over.” She shrugged. “But you didn’t hear it from me.”

~~~ Taglist ~~~

@yeolsbubbles

@ronslovergirl

@snickersmee

#draco malfoy x reader #draco x hufflepuff!reader #draco malfoy #harry potter #slow burn

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kingofthe-egirls · 9 months ago

Text

TEXT ME: SHOYO x Y/N (part 2)

series

(cw: food/eating, fluff, shojo vibes)

(a/n: text conversation romance i swore i’d never write you)

words: 1.3k

****

so when are you coming to visit??

Shoyo texts with exclamation points and emojis. His enthusiasm for life shines through every sunny character.

You do your best to keep up.

this weekend?

Shoyo responds with a smiley face and the double exclamation points.

we should get ramen! 🍜

You’d met Shoyo at the practice match between Karasuno and Nekoma in Tokyo. Shoyo had stuck out to you as shiny, athletic, and sunny. His fiery orange hair and his scrawny-yet-sculpted physique, his brown eyes and intense stare…he’d caught your eye.

You’d become fast friends over text.

Seems like he’s most passionate about volleyball, spending most of his time either practicing or wishing he was practicing.

tonkotsu is my favorite

You lie back on your bed, phone held over your face.

🍜😺🍲💯‼️

You smile, and send back your own line of emojis. He’s sweet, and fun to talk to. He’s never boring.

You lick your lips.

so, do u have a gf?

(…)

You watch the ellipses appear and bounce as Shoyo types.

nooo

Sighing, you type in relief:

sweet! then it’s a date ;)

Shoyo types and stops. Retypes. Stops. You’re hypnotized by the text on your screen.

🫣😳‼️

And then,

okay!!!

You smirk.

bring flowers

🌺🌷💐🌼

You chew your lip, staring at your phone. You want to ask him more, pry him open, see what makes him tick. So you decide to press:

have you ever had a gf?

no, wbu?

ive had some boyfriends but nothing that lasted more than a month

You roll over onto your stomach, chin propped up on a pillow. Your ballet slippers phone charm clicks against the case. You toy with it, idling.

sorry about that but also im not sorry. since i wanna go on a date w u

Smiling, you hide your face in your pillow. It smells like lavender.

same

You have homework waiting on your desk, but that’s what morning bus rides are for.

what’s ur fav thing in the whole wide world?

Hinata asks such earnest things.

umm…ballet, i think

He responds quickly:

why??

You sigh, and think of how to answer. Your room’s fan spins lazily overhead. You kick your feet as you type.

it’s perfect. the shapes, the movements, it’s all so beautiful. plus it’s exercise and makes my body feel so good after and i really like pointe

You take a deep breath, sending the run-on sentences without editing.

it’s like music or poetry, but in my body. pointe feels especially challenging, but i like it 🩰

Shoyo types.

i like challenges too

****

Saturday comes after even more text conversations. You’d spent the week glued to your phone. Each text sends butterflies through you.

You’d learned about his little sister, his parents, the foods his family cooks (salmon and pork buns are his favorite).

In turn, he’d spoken with you about Kenma, your family’s pet cat, and your somewhat distant parents.

You’re standing in front of the ramen place you’d both decided on. You muse on what other questions you’d like to ask—favorite colors, animals, subjects in school—when the orange-haired boy himself bikes up beside you. He’s electric.

“Hiya,” you say, hands clasped behind your back. Shyness suddenly overtakes you, as he smiles and steps forward.

“Hey!” He locks his bike, and then fishes something out of the basket.

Sunflowers.

“Oh!” You say, delicately accepting the bouquet, “Oh my gosh…”

Shoyo scratches the back of his head. “Hope you like sun—“

He’s interrupted by a quick, tight hug from you. Your arms wrap around his thin, wiry frame, as you bury your face in his shoulder. He smells like the sunflowers in your hand.

“I love them.”

You speak and then quickly step backward. Shoyo’s face is flushed a deep red, and judging by the heat searing your cheeks, your blush is just as bad. Smiling, you tuck a stray lock of hair behind an ear. “Sorry, I uh…didn’t actually expect flowers.”

He bustles up, cheeks puffed, “But you said to bring them!!”

“I know, I know,” you smile, “It makes me happy you did.” You bury your face in the flowers and inhale.

They smell like spring.

****

“Let’s eat!”

Shoyo exclaims before digging into his bowl of ramen. Your own steaming bowl sits in front of you: pork and scallions and hard-boiled eggs. Mmm…

“This is so good!” Shoyo picks his bowl up to sip the broth, “Like, really good!”

You smile, slurping up noodles with a hum. “Ramen was a good idea.”

“Mhmm!!!”

You sit and eat for a moment. It’s an easy silence. Shoyo is someone who you don’t have to feel awkward around. His expressions are honest, and he always says whatever he’s thinking.

“So…,” you start, toying with your chopsticks, “What’s so great about volleyball?”

Shoyo lights up.

“It’s the best!! You get to run around and play on a team, and your friends are all there supporting you!” He pauses to wipe broth off his face with the back of his hand. He’s excited and flushed, eyes wide and shining.

You sigh, picking at noodles. “I wish ballet was more of a team sport. It’s really beautiful, dancing with friends, but it’s not like a team or anything. No one’s gonna support me in a pirouette,” you say, scratching the back of your head.

Shoyo cocks his head.

Wow,

His stare is intense.

“Why don’t you play a team sport?”

You shrug.

“Ballet takes most of my energy, aside from schoolwork.” You bite your lip, “Besides, I’m already so in love with ballet. I can’t ever imagine stopping dancing. It makes me too happy. Even when my hips hurt and my toes sting, it doesn’t matter,” you lift your chin to meet Shoyo’s amber eyes, “Because it means I got to dance ballet.”

Shoyo stares.

And then his face cracks into the biggest grin you’ve ever seen.

“That’s why I love volleyball!!”

You both smile and laugh, happy to have found such a common thread.

Shoyo slurps up the last of his pork broth. “When do you have your next game—or uh, performance?” He smiles sheepishly. “I dunno all the lingo, hah…”

He’s cute when he’s shy.

“Recital,” you say for him, “And the next one is in three months! I have a solo part…,” you say nervously. Shoyo lights up, chopsticks in hand and broth on his chin.

“Solo!? That sounds super cool!”

You nod, sheepish. “It’s the Rose Fairy from The Nutcracker! I come out in the Waltz of the Flowers, and I get to do a bunch of spinny stuff with the male dancers,” You chew your lip, “I guess it is sort of a team sport, doing partner work like that,” You tap your chin, “Since they technically are helping me with pirouettes!”

Shoyo falters for a moment, lips pursed. “What’s this about male dancers?” His cheeks are flushed.

You smile,

you can’t help it.

“Here,” you say, and show a YouTube video of the waltz. His expression only darkens. He watches the men help the Rose Fairy spin across the stage—each man helping her with an impressive move. “My favorite is this promenade,” you point out.

Hinata frowns.

“All these…guys are gonna be touching you?” He asks with a pout.

You snicker.

“Jealous?”

Hinata nods fiercely.

“Yes!”

You burst out laughing. “None of these dudes are interested in me,” you assure him, “It’s just part of the dance.”

He still doesn’t look pleased.

“Of course they might be interested in you! You’re the prettiest girl in the world!”

You smile behind your hand. Even so, your face is burning hot from his complement. He sits up with his arms crossed. “I wanna be the one to help you peer-oh-wet!” He sounds out the French. (It’s so cute, you could die.)

“Well…,” you drum your fingertips on the table, “I usually rent the studio for an hour each week to rehearse on my own. If you want, you could join me! I’ll teach you,” you say. Shoyo immediately brightens.

“Mkay!”

****

#dumpster dive #shoyo x reader #shoyo fanfic #haikyu x reader #hinata fluff #hinata shoyo x reader

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illarian-rambling · 9 months ago

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Thanks for the tag @somethingclevermahogony!

Find the Word Tag

My words: rough, spice, fix, and nature

(I couldn't find spice in the draft of HO I'm working on, so I had to grab a snippet from MG lol)

(Edit: I see now that those were your words, @somethingclevermahogony, not mine. Aw well, I'll blame the dyslexia. Im too lazy to retype all this, so I'll leave it as is. I got one of them in there at least)

Your words: design, radient, fish, faith

I'll tag @ryns-ramblings @deanwax @carrotsinnovember and @bard-coded!

While Sepo had been focused on the broken base of the stone, he had completely neglected to examine the upper part. All of the stones were carved with intricate designs matching the thorny motifs of the arrows that had led them here. From what he could make out, the detail was impeccable; it must've taken a master mason decades to achieve such artistry. However, the patterns were now nearly unreadable due to the rough, four-pointed stars scratched over every inch of the thing.

Again, she spun the barrel of her new gun and got into position to watch the battle unfold. Perhaps, for the second time in her life, her stepdaughter would swoop in to fix everything. Perhaps not. Either way, Oyanna was ready.

Mierka was a Yewbury staple and, in Astra's opinion, one of the best things to come out of the gods-forsaken city since the invention of the microscope. It was a sort of flakey dumpling filled with all manner of fruits and spices, tapioca binding the whole thing together. Scholars, lords, and errand boys alike ate mierka on their way to work; it was the perfect food to eat while busy.

Bi'em nodded hesitantly. "The pattern is pretty scattershot, so it took me longer than I would've liked, but I was originally built as a code breaker, so these things are second nature."

"A code breaker...." Twenari cocked her head. "In the Dwarven Alliance?"

The robot nodded again. "Privately owned. I lived there for years before I gained sentience. And I see that look in your eyes, young Miss Devaris. Don't bother. No one knows how mechanical sentience comes to be, least of all us who experience it."

#writing #writerscommunity #writblr #author #my ocs #find the word tag

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floflipo · 2 years ago

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k2 random oneshot

warnings: minor swearing, not proofread, just eh in general, gay kyle broflovski, also gay kenny mccormick

“Huh, you’re usually not up at this time.”

“... I guess.”

Two voices- one cheerful, one groggy- could be heard at the late time of 2:37 AM. Kyle sighs as he reaches across his desk and tries to grab a pen, but drops it onto his wooden floor. There were towers of textbooks, notebooks, and random pencils surrounding a singular sheet of paper. The piece of paper, devoid of Kyle’s chicken-scratch handwriting, sat sadly on his desk.

“Did something happen? You okay?” Kenny softly speaks to the speaker after a few moments of silence.

“No, not really. I’m fine. Just, you know,” Kyle inhales quickly. “Graduation is soon.” Kyle wishes that time didn’t move on so quickly. He missed the times in elementary school, where studies and reputation weren’t a huge worry.

“Haha, it’s weird to think that we’re gonna go to college soon. I mean, it feels like we haven’t changed at all since then,” Kenny laughs. Kyle can imagine it. How Kenny’s freckled cheeks slightly go up, scrunching up his face. He looked pretty when he smiled. He looked pretty with any facial expression, but especially his smile.

“Really? I feel like most of us have changed. For the better, and the worse. I kinda wish we didn’t,” Kyle scratches his hair with the back of his pen.

Kenny thinks for a bit. “Well, Cartman’s still an asshole, Stan still has problems with Wendy, Butters is still… Butters I guess. You’re still you, and I’m still me,” He says finally.

“Change can be a good thing too, but it’s still lonely watching everyone around you grow,” Kenny also adds.

Kyle massages his temple and groans. “I don’t want to deal with any of this shit. University, jobs, moving, and everything. I wish our parents still did everything for us.”

“... Right, you’re moving to the city. It’s gonna get more lonely around here for sure, haha,” Kenny painfully laughs.

“I feel like nothing is gonna work out, Kenny. No matter how hard I try,” Kyle suddenly breaks down, almost crying.

“None of us know for sure if something is gonna work out. But none of us know for sure if something isn’t going to,” Kenny says softly. Gosh, it almost feels like Kenny’s sitting right here next to him, rubbing his back like they used to do as kids.

Kyle almost regrets that he used his last years at South Park for studying. Maybe he should’ve hung out with his friends more.

Kyle doesn’t say anything for a while. Probably because he was crying. Kyle never liked talking when he was crying. All the words that he meant to say end up in a jumbled-up string of sniffs, hiccups, and sobs.

“Hey, I know you’re crying. I’m not gonna push you to talk or anything,” Kenny says slowly, soothing him. “But if you don’t know how something’s gonna end, isn’t it just better to believe it?”

Kyle sends Kenny a text instead. How do you know it’s not going to betray me? He retypes it a few times, due to his fingers shaking.

“... Do you not believe yourself?” Kenny asks.

Not really.

“Mm, then do you believe me?”

Duh, you’re my best friend. Kyle scoffs at the words “best friend��.

“Then believe in me who believes in you, alright?” Kenny’s voice could only be described best as light. It was almost too bright for Kyle to look at directly.

After a long pause, a mumbled “Okay, thanks Kenny,” could be heard, and after that, the short call of three minutes and twenty-seven seconds had ended.

the quote believe in me who believes in you is from an anime called tengen toppa gurren lagann, but the first time i heard it was in monika after story.

the thing about kenny’s voice being light is kinda a reference to killua’s thoughts about gon in chimera ant arc. (when gon insisted that kite was okay)

first time writing a oneshot/fanfic, idrc if it's bad its almost 1 am im going to sleep this isn't proofread btw

#sp k2 #fanfic #oneshot #south park #kenny mccormick #kyle broflovski

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halliescomut · 5 months ago

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Love Sea Ep1 Watch Along

-Already need to know more about what Mut does....what is he making notes about.

-Conner/Love Sand mention already... interesting 🤔

-As someone raised in a rural area the 'I'm borrowing this' to a seemingly random person and them just nodding bc everyone knows you is relatable, even if it seems farfetched

-Cat sounds for Peat/Rak is sending me.

-Will we meet Connor I wonder?

-As someone from a family of beach/coastal ppl, totally understand the awe of the ocean, even if I'm dealing with mid Atlantic and not sub tropical. (Also, I really thought I was going to cross off one of my bingo squares with that one, but no😔)

-Okay I gotta be honest - the knocking on the glass door by Mut is just reminding me of when my dog scratches at our glass door to come back inside and it kinda just sounds like nails tapping the window. Cute

-If I call that number will Mut flirt with me?? 🥺

-Aya!!!! Khaimuk is me at work fr, but far more fashionable

-Test Love???? What is this???

-Ja already? Or is this the only ep we'll see him in?? I'm curious.

-I know it's not everyone's cup of tea, but I love grumpy almost rude love interests. It's why I liked Sky so much and it's why I'm certain I'll enjoy Rak.

- Not a drinker, but I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to just drink a martini like a shot 😂😂

-Aww a little montage of Mut being thoughtful and sweet.

-Is the breaking and entering cool? Not really, but it is nice that he's straightening up.

-Rak all curled up like a kitty 🥺🥺

-Cat sounds effects...but not catlike reflexes

-Rak trying to seduce him and Mut being totally oblivious is hilarious 😂😂

-Is this mfer eating a dry salad? Man is clearly a psychopath.

-The close ups of Peat's face and his eyes in HD is so 😍😍😍😍 I kinda need them to switch seats so I can see Fort's eyes in the good lighting.

-The guilt tripping and puppy eyes are working!!!

-You ever just think about how pretty Fort's lips are???

-I guess Mook is Aya's character's nickname. Hopefully I can keep that in my head. I struggle so much remembering names.

{Okay I saved this as a draft because I had to go do something and then come back and finish the episode and it didn't save the second half. So I'm going to retype what I can remember but it's iffy}

-Interesting idea that he must be having sex to write about it. (And honestly a little fun considering how many Ace smutfic writers I know....including myself)

- The matching scenes of both of them late at night before bed is sweet.

-While I do understand how frustrating it is to have someone interrupting your work, Mut is so cute.

-Boat adventure!!! 🛥️

-Grouchy Rak after being told to sit still so he doesn't go overboard 😂😂

-"Get lost"....and go fucking where? We're on a boat!

(lemme know if you catch the reference)

-Oh no....Mut has accidentally traumatized him. ( Was that on my bingo card?? No...dang it)

-Aww😭😭 Rak does need a strong warm hug poor baby. 🫂🫂🫂

-"This is good stuff too" in reference to Mut's body is.....amazing. Simply a amazing.

-"Which do you want to eat?"...well you see I actually don't like clams so....👀👀

- A wet dream!! Or I guess maybe it would have been if Mut hadn't woken up. 😂

-Seems like we're gonna be moving at a good clip based on the preview for next week. Though I'm not surprised...Mame's never been one of the first kiss in episode 7 types. (& we love that about her)

-End credits is Rak(?) alone on the beach....I wonder if that will change as we go through the show?🤔

Well this was fun. I'm excited for next week. I have some critiques, but that's to be expected and honestly it was a nice distraction for an hour from the dumpster fire that is existence.

#love sea the series #love sea #love sea ep1 #tongrak x mahasamut #mahasamut x tongrak #mutrak #fortpeat #fort thitipong #peat wasuthorn #mame bl #thai bl

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engagemachine · 1 year ago

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This is totally random but can you imagine Taylor doing a cute little tik tok about an outfit she really likes because she sees videos like that all the time, and the Joker sees men commenting on her video, would he make her take it down?

Um, first of all, OMG. This ask has been living rent-free in my brain ALL FREAKING DAY. I couldn't wait to come home to answer it.

Secondly, it hadn’t really ever occurred to me that Taylor might have a TikTok, mostly because I imagine the timeline of Burn to be like, idk… 2010? Maybe? I don’t ever specify the year because I don’t want to pigeonhole myself in a box in terms of what I can reference in regards to the media and with regard to current events -- and ultimately it's not terribly important to the plot, anyway....

but for the sake of this headcanon, we'll say Taylor does have a TikTok, mostly because our baby girl just wants to be SEEN, okay, so her very first video is a little try-on video of some really cute outfit she's thrifted -- she's so proud of her thrift store finds -- and she posts the video and is so excited every time she receives a notification for a comment. Her heart gives an excited little pulse as she opens the notification...

Some of the comments are from other girls. "OMG SO cute" and "love it", but then she's biting down on her lip and her cheeks are flushing when she reads the comments from men -- usually much older ones, if their pictures are anything to go by.

Some of the comments are pretty benign. "Pretty" and "beautiful young lady" and "whats your snap" -- but some of the comments are a lot more detailed. More graphic.

In the video, she's spinning to show off her new skirt, and in one comment she's told to take off her panties next time, then bend over. Another comment says, "tight little body" and, to her mortification, another that simply reads, "so fuckable". She reads further down the list, feeling horrified -- ashamed -- as more comment notifications ping on her phone. "wanna lick you from top to bottom", "fucking tease. she knows what she's doing", and "saving this for later" with a yellow 'thumbs up' emoji.

It sends a flurry of emotions fluttering in her tummy. Nathan had always told her she was ugly -- worthless -- and only Mr. J had ever really made her feel special. Pretty.

But now all these other men are complimenting her, too, and she doesn't really know how to feel about it. A part of her is secretly -- maybe horrifically -- a little pleased. But another much bigger part of her feels disgusted with herself. She hadn't meant to show off her body. She hadn't meant to do anything, really, she just thought her outfit was cute. Is it so bad to have wanted that? To want to be seen?

Later, she lies in bed curled up on her side, reading every comment under the safety of the covers, just in case Mr. J walks in. She doesn't want him to see. He'd be so angry if he knew.

The comments trickle in slowly over a period of a few more days. The video has a little over a thousand views, which Taylor thinks is a lot, especially for a first video.

But then, a few days later, the video is abruptly gone, and she realizes she's been locked of her account.

"What the heck?" she murmurs, once again tucked under the warm cavern of her covers, even though Mr. J isn't home and probably won't be for a few hours.

She sits up in bed, untangling herself from the sheets. Her face is shrouded in the white light from her phone as she retypes her password, five times and then seven, before finally searching for her account on the app, but it's gone. Like it was never even there.

She pouts about it for the whole next day. She had 143 followers, which isn't a lot, but she was thinking about posting more videos, and now she can't unless she makes another account, and what's the point now that all of her followers are gone? She'd have to start all over from scratch.

Mr. J notices her sour mood after a whole day of sulking around the house, because of course he notices. He corners her in the hallway during the late afternoon. The TV's on in the living room, a quiet murmur, and blades of orange sunlight slice through the half-opened blinds, long tiger stripes stretching across the carpet. Taylor tries to move past Mr. J -- not in the mood to talk -- but he grips her by her chin, his long fingers digging into her jaw as he forces her to look at him.

"Not that I'm uh, not enjoying this sweet, pouty little face of yours," he says, his thumb briefly stroking along the line of her jaw, "but what's got my girl's panties in such a twist? Hm?"

Taylor flushes, knowing that she can't explain. "It's nothing," she says, looking away, because it's so hard to lie to him.

Mr. J's brows arch into his hairline, which would almost be comical if she weren't toeing the borderline of fear. There's no way she's getting out of this without telling him. He always gets his way.

"Doesn't seem like nothing," he says. "Seems like a whole lot of something."

Taylor reaches up with both hands to try to pry his hand off her face, but he doesn't budge, only grips tighter, briefly smushing her cheeks together with his fingers.

"Alright!" she cries.

He releases his grip, but only slightly.

"Alright," she says again, this time softer. "It's just... I posted a video, okay? On--online, and it got taken down and I don't know why! I didn't even do anything wrong."

She pauses to take a breath, then nervously glances up into Mr. J's black, steely eyes.

"A video," he says, almost a question, but not quite. His expression is eerily calm. Unreadable. Taylor squirms under his gaze, wishing he'd let go of her jaw already, which is starting to ache.

"I was just trying on clothes. It wasn't anything like--"

"You were trying on clothes?" he repeats, interrupting her, and Taylor feels a lightning bolt of fear splice through her.

"No!" she cries. "I mean, I--I was, but I wasn't naked. I was already dressed. I was just--just showing off my outfit. That's all, Mr. J, I swear--"

"And what exactly were you, uh--" he pauses to work his mouth, his tongue briefly snaking out to wet his lower lip, "hoping to gain out of 'showing off'?"

Taylor swallows nervously, her eyes darting back and forth between his. The sun in the living room window behind him has dipped lower, and those tiger stripes elongate even further across the carpet, stretching all the way until Taylor can feel the warmth of the beams on her bare toes.

"Daddy isn't paying enough attention to you, is that it?" he says, before Taylor has a chance to answer. "You felt like you had to go online -- when I veeeery ex-plic-it-ly told you not to -- to parade yourself around for everyone to see? For everyone to see what's mine?"

Taylor whimpers, because he's squeezing her jaw and cheeks so hard it hurts.

"I--I'm so sorry, Mr. J. It wasn't like that," she whimpers. "I didn't think--"

"No," he agrees. "You didn't." She stares at him, trembling, and watches his nostrils flare. His gaze is somewhere behind her--just for a moment--just long enough for her to know he's eyeing the mussed sheets of their empty bed through the open door of their bedroom. "Well," he says, after a long, loaded pause, allowing his dark eyes to settle back on her, "if it's attention you're after, daddy'll give it to you."

Suddenly, he shoves her backwards--still holding onto her, so she doesn't fall--as he forces her to stumble backwards into their bedroom. His eyes are dangerous. Feral. "Daddy'll give you plenty."

#anonymous #asks #Burn #Taylor #I have SEEN the comments men leave on TikTok videos and they are truly APPALLING #these are really just the tip of the ice-berg #anyway #mini fic #DIDN'T PROOFREAD THIS idk I wrote this all in one siting hope it doesn't suck

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snarp · 2 years ago

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monku 2: Ubuntu Japanese input won't let me type in Firefox anywhere but the address bar (where it is undesirable)

文句

Ubuntu Japanese input won't let me type anywhere in Firefox except the address bar (where it is typically undesirable). I had to copy-paste that "monku," and doing so for some reason cleared all this other text so I had to retype it all from scratch

edit: the original text is back now.

#ubuntu

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metal-requiem · 2 years ago

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data science was honestly one of my favorite classes ive ever taken but when i gave my final presentation to the class and the professor, who had approved the idea with great gusto and was also Not Normal, gleefully went "and how did u GET the dataset for this" (bc it wasnt one of the simple ones provided) and i said "oh it was in the wrong format and i couldnt easily edit it to be friendly so i made a csv file manually. from scratch." the FACES on the other students. my god. why are u people here if u dont enjoy data input

for context i used all the data my instructor gave us from all the sections she taught in bio lab for THAT final as our dataset for my data science final but it was in the wrong orientations and shit and i was like fuck it. time to retype it all manually. she taught like four or five sections. anyway it was like 450ish rows and like. six columns or something like that

every now and again i think "surely it can't be that weird for a child to sort things, it has to be something every child does"

and then i remember that my mother finally had an allistic child after two autistic kids in a row and was baffled and annoyed to find out she couldn't just keep him occupied by sticking a box of unsorted buttons in front of him and let him sort them

like my mother thought, exactly like i do sometimes, that surely every child must just sit there and sort whatever is in front of them but no, actually, most of my non autistic peers didn't do this and thought i was a fucking weirdo for doing it

anyway i still struggle to believe that most people don't find deep enjoyment in sitting there and arbitrarily sorting shit. what do they even do if they need to do data entry? do they just suffer? weirdos.

#god i miss that class.

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emphistic · 7 months ago

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hiii can i request a scenario like sometime before sukuna and reader got together like what pushed sukuna to ask reader out :)))

pls don’t be lonely, in time your anons will have emojis/names ^^

A/N: ugh i hate beta reading (im sorry if you find any typos or mistakes), and i hate how this turned out — definitely gonna rewrite another version for this request

"Alright, your total is coming up to $11.89 Would you like to pay with cash or card today?"

You cleared your throat, "Could you give me a second?"

"Of course!"

You turned away from the cashier to face Sukuna, who stood behind you, and probably playing some dumb video game on his phone. When he noticed your gaze on him, he looked up at you, raising a brow.

"We ordered two croissants, two drinks, and two cookies, right?"

Sukuna hummed

"So why is our total so low? We always get this as our order and it always costs more than $11.89."

Sukuna shrugged, "Why would I know?" Then, an idea came to Sukuna — his eyes lighting up. "How about . . . we don't say anything, that way we get to pay less. See? At least one of us has brain."

You frowned at that last part, "Says the one who literally tries to cheat off of me on every test we take. Anyways, that's not a good thing to do. If we did that, we would be making this business lose money. What if this store goes bankrupt because of us? I really like their croissants."

Sukuna was taken aback, were you really this nice of a person?

"No way. Are you stupid? This is the perfect way to save—"

You turned your back on Sukuna and faced the cashier, "I have a quick question."

"Yes?"

"We order this every time we come here and our total is always higher than just $11.89, is there any reason why it's lower today?"

Sukuna facepalmed after hearing you.

"Oh, right! I forgot to mention, we have a 35% discount for all couples today — in honor of Valentine's Day being right around the corner. You guys are together, right? As in you're dating?"

"We are—" Sukuna began, eager to get a discount, as he knew you were paying with his card — not that he minded spending money on you.

"We are not, actually," you finished his sentence.

Sukuna's chest tightened at your words. He didn't know why. You guys weren't actually dating, so why did he feel the need to say you were?

"Oh, my bad. I just assumed because you guys were ordering together. Sorry again," the cashier retyped whatever they had recently put in on their screen.

You laughed, "Don't worry about it."

"Grandpa, how do you know if a girl likes you?" Sukuna had called for a meeting in the dining room with Mr. Itadori — the grandpa in question. The pink-haired elder sat on his chair, with a cup of still smoking tea in his hands, taking occasional sips here and there.

Mr. Itadori laughed, a boisterous, and clearly very amused laugh. "You've had plenty of girlfriends, how do you not know?"

Sukuna winced at the deluge of memories, because the only reason he even had girlfriends before was to get you out of his head. You were the only one he ever thought of, ever dreamt of. You were the only one so unfortunate as to have him thinking of you night and day. Well, that's what Sukuna thought. You, on the other hand, had a different idea of him.

"I just," Sukuna scratched at his nap, "don't know."

"Well, boy. It can be a very easy thing to know. Or it can be a very hard thing to know. My best piece of advice is—"

Sukuna sat at the edge of his chair, impatiently waiting for his elder to advise him further.

"—you never know. You can never know."

Sukuna's mouth fell to his feet. "You've got to be kidding me — Grandpa, please. I need your help."

Mr. Itadori laughed, again, "You've asked me your question. I've answered your question. What more do you want?"

Sukuna grumbled, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to think. He didn't know what to feel. He didn't know what to do . . . about you.

This time, Sukuna had planned to meet with your parents, in order to further investigate and see if you had even a speck of feeling for him (besides friendship, of course).

"We've seen you two kiss before, a multitude of times actually. Why would she not like you?"

Sukuna immediately reddened in the face, "She's only kissed me on the cheek. And, ah, I've done the umm . . . same to her. I haven't done anything bad to your daughter, I swear — on my life." He held his hands up in a defensive manner.

"Relax, Sukuna. You seriously think we haven't seen your guys' photos from the photo booth at the fair last week? Besides, you're the only boy she has movie nights. You're the only boy she would ever work with on a group project. You're the only boy she ever talks about. You're the only boy," your mom said.

Sukuna gulped. "So, can I ask her to be my—" He winced. "—girlfriend?"

Your parents both sighed, "Kids these days. Always asking questions they already know the answer to."

Sukuna's heart hammered in his chest; this was it. He finally got his answer, the answer he's been dreaming of. Now here comes the hard part: figuring out what to do next.

"Wait, hold on Zoe. Sukuna just texted me," you turned your camera off in order to view your messages.

"Ooooh, it's Loverboy. How romantic of him to be texting you at 8pm on a school night. Shouldn't he be getting his Z's in, considering he's like, what, 80 years old?"

You laughed, "He's only a year older than us, he just got held back."

"Uh huh." You heard the squeak of a chair from the other line as [you assumed] Zoe leaned back in her seat.

Kuna

Hey

Meet me @ the beach

I need your help rq

You

Wtf??

Why the hell r u at the beacj at eight?

Kuna

Just get over here already

You rolled your eyes at his bluntness. "Sorry, girl. He needs my help with — actually, I don't even know what he needs my help for. Anywho, I'll call you back after."

"Sureee you will. After he kills you or something. Y'know, from the moment you introduced him to me, I knew there was something off about his demeanor—"

"Okay, bye!" You hung up the call and quickly slipped a pair of sneakers on.

When you pulled up to the beach, you saw a figure sitting on a bench with his head in his hands. You recognized said figure are none other than Sukuna.

"So, what's up?" You approached Sukuna.

He looked up, somewhat surprised to see you arrive so fast.

"Um—" He looked around, searching for something, before standing up quickly.

"You gonna tell me what's going on? Are do you want me to figure it out myself?"

"I'd rather you not do the latter."

"Oh my God, just tell me," you spoke, with an exasperated expression on your face.

Sukuna sighed, before thrusting a bouquet of roses (he's not that basic, he just didn't know what flowers you liked best, and was too scared to ask) into your arms, saying, "Be my girlfriend."

"Sorry — be your what?" Your mouth fell open in utter disbelief.

"My girlfriend," he muttered, now turned away from you; you could see the tips of his ears reddening. "Are you deaf or something, kid?"

Even when he was flustered he worked hard to keep up a cold attitude.

You regained your posture, clearing your throat, "Does that line work work with all the ladies? Is that how you get all your girls? Oh, please. 'Be my girlfriend'? What the hell, Sukuna? Is that seriously the best you've got?"

"Ugh, forget it." Sukuna stuffed his hands into his hoodie pocket and began to walk away.

"Wait — I never said my answer was 'no'."

That made him turn around instantly.

"But I never said my answer was 'yes'," you teased, flashing a grin in Sukuna's direction.

"You're so annoying," he met you halfway.

"And you're such a silly goose," you booped him on the nose, earning a grunt in response. "Of course I'll be your girlfriend, 'Kuna," you stood up on your tippy toes and placed a chaste kiss on Sukuna's chapped lips.

As you pulled away, he brought you back in for another, more zealous kiss, this time. One of his arms wrapped around the curve of your waist while the other played with your hair; you placed your hands on his shoulders.

This was it.

Sukuna now knew what to do. Sukuna now knew what to say. Sukuna now knew what to think. Sukuna now knew what to feel. Sukuna now knew you.

Taglist: @starlets-things @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @lich1 @hannas16 @acroso

#sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna fluff #em writes ˎˊ˗

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yesokayiknow · 5 years ago

Text

headcanons about eldritch!doctor except not actually about them:

there’s no way that splintering herself across time and space didn’t do something to clara. earth feels so small now, and every time she returns to her home planet she feels restricted and claustrophobic, like she's trying to occupy a space meant only for a single person. she lies like breathing, desperately trying to find a version of events that fits each of her millions upon millions of lives. clara oswald is a badly sewn together patchwork of forgotten memories and whispered stories and she is much less scared of that than she should be

river song is mostly human but slightly curled and fraying at the edges, and for most of her life she has kept a strict grasp on her mortal form, terrified that she'll be punished for being wrong. it takes her a good long time to let these edges slip, and the first time happens while she’s with her parents. they don't react badly (my beautiful beautiful girl amy murmurs and river cries in her arms as rory carefully combs his fingers through hair that flickers in and out of reality and feels like static) and she starts becoming more and more comfortable with her true form. the doctor's always been able to see her of course

amy never talks about it, but those years living by a crack leaking time and space didn’t exactly leave her unscathed. she remembers timelines that never happened and sees things that should remain unseen. where rory sees an old tired timelord, amy's always been able to see a splintered and shiny mass of time energy that weaves through dimensions. river flares fever bright in her eyes and rory flickers between flesh and plastic. new york is a gnarled wound in time and she pretends that it doesn't burn every time she blinks

she doesn’t remember anything afterwards but there’s still something off about donna noble and the way she seems to almost. grow a little. the way that her eyes light up and there's something so much bigger behind them. she takes up camping, and doesn't quite know how to explain how much more settled she feels sleeping under the stars (if there were any onlookers, they'd be able to see how the stars pulse in time with the too quick rise and fall of her chest)

rose has always sworn that she has nothing of the bad wolf left but sometimes, when she grins, she almost seems to have too many teeth in her smile. she prefers the day, prefers the sun and the bright blue sky; she spends so much time in bright places that it takes her a while to realise that her eyes reflect the light

#doctor who #clara oswald #river song #amy pond #donna noble #rose tyler #eldritch!dw #okay but i have SO MANY THOUGHTS about amy pond and her memories #all the lives she's lived and unlived and relived #fascinates me that she's able to keep them straight #wonder how much it hurts to do that #(fun fact tumblr crashed about six times when i tried to post this i had to retype it from scratch abt 4 times #before i realised i should just save it in a word doc smh)

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noblechaton · 3 years ago

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🌹 💘 💢 💓 💚

Ship that you have as an OTP: 🌹

2B9S is unstoppable to me and I'll prove to you how much I love them with one single image:

Ship that is unpopular but you still like: 💘

this question feels made for Adrigami lmao and everyone who loudly hates Kagami and her ships (Adrigami, Marigami, etc.) only makes me stronger

Ship that is most misunderstood: 💢

people tend to get the wrong impressions of 2B9S I think and that's largely due to the game's reputation and how if you google it or look it up on some site I'm almost positive you find typical kinda twink boy dominant gal smut within the first few results lmao. that sort of dynamic isn't totally wrong but I think it paints a more....uh. porn-y picture, for lack of a better term, than how they truly are with one another and completely discards the actual romantic attraction (and uh, coughs, everything else in there too). also I'm surprised at how many people still get Ladynoir wrong ~5 years in

Ship that you didn’t expect to ship but now do: 💓

I admit to kinda playing it up at first with Akechi and Ren McP5Protag but at this stage in the game I am genuinely shocked he's not a romance option. Alyadrien is actually one of my favorite ML ships and has been since ~S2 I think. also Commander White and Jackass is another pair I actually enjoy even with their dynamics only sorta hinted at in the game tho those names won't mean much to non-Nier folks lol.

Ship that you secretly like: 💚

this one's tough bc I think I'm p open about my ships it's just more that people don't ask. I think Adrien and Alix is a lot of fun tho it's super underrated. Haruko and Naota, while not really a ship so much as a pair, are sort of embedded into my heart thanks to my watching FLCL 4-5 times in a row when I was at an impressionable age. also I haven't kept up with it in years but Izuku and Mina are cute as hell together imo

#would u believe I accidentally cut almost all of this ask and had to retype it from scratch 8)#also yes that is an image of the 2B and 9S figures holding hands I took shortly after getting 2B (already had the boy)#and yes I took far too many images of them doing stuff like that #search-a-gif didn't give me any good 2B9S results so u all get to learn abt that lil bit of Noble lore

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mariakko · 5 months ago

Text

(Accidentally deleted my repost like a total dummy. Gotta retype what I said :’( )

Yeah I’ll be honest, I love Strangled Red’s writing a lot more, and I can see why it was highly favored and preserved better than the sequels. I mean, I think a hacked cartridge rather than a secret Easter egg is a much better way to tell a story, especially with how Steven reacts to the world being just a video game and how he hates the game for destroying what happiness he had. There is some respect for the sequels though, I do appreciate how damn good S!3V3N is at being a villain. Cold, depressed, obsessive, insane. What more could you want from a guy? (The fact that Steven’s name returns to normal after the glitched charizards get defeated, and yet he’s still a total asshole, is just the cherry on top that lets the reader know he didn’t become evil because he was corrupted, he became corrupted because he was evil. It just shows everything Steven did was his own actions and he really seems unapologetic about it all.)

My small extra facts about Door’s Open and Strangled… that I wish to comment:

Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think the fourth move is just “Strangle” but since the author already wrote that in Strangled… and the player’s pokemon are capable of fighting in Door’s Open, maybe that was written away. But given that Miki was the one who killed Mike (according to S!3V3N’s command) and that she manages to use that on everyone in Strangled…, I would assume that. But, if we were to use a legitimate move, then yeah we could just replace that with submission or counter like you mentioned.

(Random fun fact for charizard in general: So you know how Charizard couldn’t use Fly in Red until the next game? Yeah well, apparently since it’s a lizard, it can learn ‘dig’. Wouldn’t it be funny if Miki knew Dig? I mean, it’s not canon, but given that Miki is now a corrupted zombie, and that the irl Miki was leveled up to lvl 100 with a variety of move types, I could totally see Dig as her second ace move post-revival.)

Now, canonic fun fact: You see the line “The abomination of a Pokémon that is your foe will retaliate with simple Scratch, which to your dismay”? Yeah, that’s from Miki. The move she had when she was lvl 5

I kid you know, Steven ‘revived’ his Miki, somehow duplicated her to three worst versions, somehow gave her corrupted moves, but kept ‘scratch.’ I mean, no judging, since Miki’s so strong it’s apparently still strong enough to KO the player’s pokemon. But like, come on. Was it just kept for the memories? (Oh S!3V3N, never change.)

btw i dont think ive ever blatantly put it anywhere afaik??? maybe. idk. but in doors open it heavily implies mikis moveset, which is one of the other 'cool random details that doors open has despite it not being that great of a story' - and one thats like never actually mentioned by anybody except me as far as i can tell. so if you were wondering:

hyper beam, firespin, flamethrower, and Unknown fourth move

yes i have these on my lvl 100 EV trained female charizard named miki in my copy of violet because im very normal ( not ). i was on a grind, and knowing some vague listing of mikis moves helped with motivation.

anyways.

this is pulled from doors open text - its not entirely 100% reliable bc its based on the "Hellfire" move thats unique to miki / M' / M@#% / M@#$*

*( there is no entirely canon and consistent name for missingno/revived miki - the last two Look similar but the & is replaced w a $ in the og . the percentage at the end is the first miki of 4 in stevens party from doors open - he has multiple but the only fully 'corrupted' name that starts with an M is that one since all of them have one letter of mikis name in order uncorrupted... so ig thats the most canon name, but its never consistent. she's also just called . 's / [ BLANK ] in strangled because when she attacks its just 's attack continues! so its just empty. literally never consistent its kind of funny. entire off ramble. image examples below from strangled and doors open. )

( btw i know ive talked about it before but i think all 4 of his weird charizards spelling out mikis name and stevens name slowly going from PokeMANIAC to S!3v3n to St3v3n to Stev3n and once he's defeated just "Steven" is. mwah. chefs kiss. )

off ramble aside, hellfire is a unique move that seems to mix several other move animations together which i feel implies mikis moveset but its not like, a given, its just what id assume is implied. hypnosis is the only move there that cannot be learned by charizard, firespin hyperbeam and flamethrower obviously can and are specifically pulled from Gen 1 charizard's learn by level up moveset, and one tm being hyperbeam. which means the fourth move is up to interpretation in her alive moveset.

btw in gen 1 pokemon don't have different moves if they level up to their evolve level or past it but dont evolve. at least for charmanders line, each member of it has the same level up moveset.

i personally think its like... inferno. or i think my miki in violet has inferno as the fourth move. but inferno was introduced gen 5 so for moves a gen 1 charizard could actually learn, slash or rage by level up maybe? but i think for miki a fighting type move would be funny. gen 1 charizard can learn that by tm and mikis already weird and special, so if she learned moves charizards normally cant by level up itd be par for the course. the fighting type moves charizard in gen 1 can learn by tm are submission, counter, and seismic toss, which all feel like something miki could have. specifically seismic toss but any of the 3 work for her fourth hypothetical move.

also because seismic toss does dmg equal to level so it'd do 100 damage and mikis already overpowered. which i think is fitting.

or its like. fly, or something. which would make sense. i guess. i just personally hc steven as having a pidgeot as a fly hm user instead bc you know his ass would have the most basic pokemon team of 'op starter and some early route mons for hms' . but he'd obviously still mainly fly on miki due to his attachment, so... who knows!

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pedgito · 2 years ago

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Could you do a love triangle between reader, Steve and Eddie? Like she can't decide who she's more attracted too and spin the bottle goes south really quick. Because they're jealous when someone dares the reader to kiss the other or someone else.

author's note: uh, yeah...i got carried away. this took on a life of it's own. i also got halfway through and tumblr deleted it and i had retype all of it, so if it seems a little disjointed, i'm sorry. hopefully it isn't too noticeable

cw: 18+ (to be safe), background!ronance, lots of making out and some suggestive touching, but nothing too crazy. there's not any interaction outside of the reader between steve & eddie, other than talking, ect, but i tried leaving the ending a little ambiguous for a reason :p

word count: 3.6k

You weren’t entirely too sure how you ended up in this situation—scratch that—you were definitely aware of how, but why was the real issue. A small group of teenagers huddled around a fire during of those infamous senior year parties, drinking until you couldn’t see straight and making far too many irrational decisions—which is the how on you ending up here, staring directly at the two boys you couldn’t stop thinking about, sans the few other kids who didn’t really matter—not to you, anyways. You hadn’t spoke to half these kids the entire school year, but spin the bottle was harmless, practically child’s play. What was the worst thing that could happen?

“So, how are we doing this?” Steve asks after a long silence. Everyone shares a glance around the circle, not a single word spoken. “Come on, at least one of you has to have some idea of how to play.”

You sigh, taking the bait. “Let’s do—spinner chooses the person to kiss for whoever it lands on. Fair enough?” There’s a collective shrug from everyone in response. “Great—I’ll go first.” No one argues against it.

It lands on Nancy first, who takes a small sip of her beer—liquid courage, maybe? Though, she already looked like she been through a few by the slight flush in her face. You glance over at your quirky, fast talking friend and an idea strikes you.

“Robin.” You grin, staring Nancy down. Part of you expects Nancy to back out, but she crosses the path to Robin, who sitting beside you. It’s a quick kiss—close mouthed and simple. Nancy offered a comforting smile to her friend before turning on her heels and returning to her seat—and if it weren’t for the four beers Robin had consumed in the time you had been here, she’d be shaking in her converse after being kissed—and by Nancy Wheeler, of all people. You nudge her shoulder comfortingly, watching the blush creep up her neck toward her face. “Alright, who’s next?” Robin asks, desperately hoping to avert the attention away from her.

A young blonde girl who’s name you couldn’t remember spun the bottle, landing on Jason, and to no surprise—she picked herself. You’ve never been more happy that Chrissy wasn’t much of a partier, she didn’t deserve this—Jason really didn’t deserve her. You couldn’t be bothered to watch, eyes averting to Eddie who was just as equally uncomfortable, but it didn’t seem like it was for the same reason. He rarely ever took part in group stuff or socialized outside of his D&D club—but he had you, Nancy, Robin, and Steve to thank for finally helping him branch out—even if it was against his own will most of the time.

Jason took the next turn, spinning the bottle. It spun and spun, lasting for what felt like hours until it stopped on you. You looked at Jason, bracing for whatever stupid choice he was about to.

“Harrington.” He says smugly, smirk covering his annoying face. “You get to kiss Harrington.”

Steve eyes you wearily, immediately feeling uncomfortable with all eyes on him. Luckily, it wasn’t that big of a deal. Had he been the Steve of two years ago, he would’ve had no shame, kissing you square on the mouth in front of the entire school if he needed to, just to prove a point. But this Steve, he was hesitant. You had been through a lot, together and apart.

“Lucky me.” You joke, flashing a sweet smile in Steve’s direction. You chug the rest of the beer, throwing the bottle off toward the other growing pile of empty bottles. You contemplate whether a simple kiss was enough, but the way Jason was staring you down—you just had to stick it to him, shove it right in his face.

Steve’s leg spread slightly as you moved forward, allowing you the space you needed to take a careful seat on his leg, one arm hung loosely around his back. “You can hate me later.” You whisper, hand coming up to cradle the side of his face before leaning in, pressing you lips against his own with all the confidence in the world.

You really don’t expect the pressure the Steve returns, parting your lips slightly. But, he seems to catch on to why you were putting on such a show—he would play along either way. And even if you did have the teensiest of crushes on Steve, you would never find the courage to act on it alone. Steve spent all of his time talking about girls that there was no reason for you to be anywhere on his radar. He sighs quietly, bring you in closer, hand gripping onto your waist gently.

Jason clears his throat awkwardly, “If you two want to get a room that’s fine.” Of course the jerk couldn’t take what he wanted to dish out. You pull away slowly, eyes immediately connecting with his.

“Sorry. Who’s next?” You ask simply, standing to smooth out your shirt where it had ridden up from Steve’s hand. “Robin?”

“Me?” She asks, voice shaken. Robin was always so inherently nervous, but it was part of her charm. "I, uh--Okay."

You could hear a pin drop as soon as it landed on Eddie, the entire group snapping their attention in his direction. He was fiddling with the neck of the bottle, not realizing everyone was staring at him until Steve nudges him.

He laughs lightly, not even the slightest bit uncomfortable. You would never understand how easily he brushed everything off. "Choose wisely, Robin." He teases, pointing a tantalizing finger her direction. Robin forces a laugh, eyes wandering around the group slowly, categorizing every person.

Not Jason, not Nancy, not to mention all the other kids who were vehemently making an effort to avoid Robin's gaze. She stops on Steve for half a second, considering--before she snaps to you. She mumbles a sheepish, "Sorry--I love you, please don't hate me."

But, there wasn't any reason to hate her. It was a game--a silly, stupid little game, right? You shrug, throwing your arms up in the air. "Rules are rules." You assure her, "Pucker up, Munson."

Much similar to your approach to Steve, Eddie widens his legs. But, he's perched higher, allowing his head to be level with you while he sat. "It's an honor, sweetheart." His voice dripping with honey, warm and entirely too welcoming--and now you really can't ignore the shiver that runs down your spine. It wasn't the alcohol this time, not even in the slightest.

He yanks you toward him gently, fingers carding their way through the hair at nape of your neck, pulling you in for a slow, searing kiss. You yelp quietly at the action, caught off guard by the way Eddie manhandled you into place--not that you were complaining.

The kiss quickly turns into something else, a mess of tongues and not much else. It was probably time to cut off the alcohol. Robin whistles loudly from behind you, the rest of the teenagers joining in quickly, pulling you both out of whatever trance you had both entered. You quickly stepped back from Eddie, pointedly avoiding his eyes--unfortunately, locking right onto Steve's. Except he's not looking back, he's staring directly at Eddie. And it's then, in the midst of all your drunkenness, that your existential crisis hits you.

Steve was jealous and Eddie wanted to make Steve jealous. It had worked perfectly, assuming by the look on Steve's face. But, what doesn't make sense, is why Steve couldn't bare to look at you now. Eddie coughs softly, causing you to separate further. "Sorry, sweetheart. Kinda got ahead of myself." You wanted to blame it on the alcohol, but it couldn't have been more obvious--the problem was literally staring you directly in the face.

They were both jealous. They couldn't even share a glance with each other anymore, after an entire night of pointless chatting, it was like they couldn't be on further points of the universe, all over a harmless game.

"Well, I think that's enough for one night." Nancy finally says, breaking the tension that had been created between the three of you. "Robin?" She asks, making an effort to hope she would catch on.

"Yep!" She claps, standing up from her spot and immediately snatching Nancy away from the group. "God, please fill me in on whatever is going on with those two." Robin whispers into your ear before she finally flees, following Nancy toward the drink table, against her better judgement.

.ೃ࿐

After a few minutes of silence and stolen glances between each other, no one speaks. You sigh loudly, hands thrown out to your side. "I'm not dealing with you two. I'm not--I'm just gonna go find somewhere to sober up." You weren't sure what had brought out the behavior from Steve--well, Eddie had--but, you hadn't done a single thing to him. And Eddie, he couldn't even be bothered to look Steve's way.

You turn, stomping off into the deep brush of forest, desperate to escape the chaos of the party and calm your nerves. "Wait!" You hear Steve call out, but you don't stop. To no one's surprise, Steve trails closely behind--a quiet Eddie sticking behind, staring at the dirty, scuffed white sneakers he wore.

"Wait, please," Steve's voice is softer this time, but louder, void of all the loud music and chatter. He's staring at you with his soft, brown eyes--the type of look that would make any girl melt. But not you, not now, "stuff got weird back there, I'm sorry."

"Stuff got weird? Is that the excuse you're using?" You ask, entirely unconvinced by what he was telling you. "So, you staring down Eddie like you wanted to murder him isn't important? I shouldn't be worried about that?"

Steve looks away, jaw clenching. "I didn't think it would feel weird. But, I couldn't help it." He replies lamely, still not looking your way.

"Couldn't help what?" You ask, arms crossing over your chest, "Acting like a complete douche? It was a game, Steve." But, you were far past the point of it just being a game--you knew it was more to Steve, maybe not before, but definitely now.

"Just a game? So when you had your tongue shoved down Eddie's throat, that was just a game?" Steve turns toward you, eyes narrowing. You set yourself, brows furrowing in anger.

"So, you are jealous." Steve shakes his head in frustration, back turned toward you. "You're jealous that I kissed Eddie? Steve, I kissed you too, how does that make any sense?" He didn't even have the courage to look at you now, even after being so confrontational. "Steve, seriously?"

"Fuck this." He snaps, turning on his heels and stalking toward you, legs hitting the back of the worn out picnic table, sending you stumbling back, arm extended out in an effort to catch yourself, but Steve's hands are around you before you can even think, pulling you into him.

You hesitate for a split second, seeing his eyes scan over the expanse of your face, silently checking if you were okay--you were furious, but you couldn't help but want to lean in further, the tingle of alcohol filling your body. You sigh into Steve's mouth the moment it touches yours, immediately wrapping your arms around the expanse of his neck, allowing his hands to slip under your thighs and force you to be fully seated on the table now, wrapping your legs around his hips.

His tongue traces a line against your top lip, idle hand squeezing at the soft flesh of your waist, before delving into your mouth like he was a man dying of thirst, ready to bleed you dry. You fight back, lips pressing against his in an effort to gain an upper hand, fingers gently pulling at his hair. Steve moans outwardly, a filthy laugh slipping from his lips at the effort you were giving. "I guess I had a reason to be jealous, yeah?" He asks teasingly, his voice low and soft, only for your ears.

"Shut up." You bite back, pulling him back in for another kiss, leaving you practically breathless.

"Well, seems you two had a couple issues to work through." A voice bleeds through the trees, the familiar crackle of leaves coming closer and closer until..."Didn't think you had it in you, Harrington."

"Eddie." It's a warning. He knows it.

Eddie throws his hands up in defeat before resting them behind his back, slowly stepping closer. Steve was still pressed between your legs, but both of you were glued on Eddie and that stupid smirk he had.

"Don't act so innocent, sweetheart." He chides, his voice soft but condescending in it's tone. "You knew exactly what you were doing."

A step closer, than another, until he's practically kneeling on the bench beside you both, only a few inches away. "Steve's definitely got it out for you--problem is, I do too."

It couldn't have been more obvious, but the reality of hearing it fall from Eddie's mouth has your heart skipping a beat. Two of you bestfriends, two people you loved--it should feel wrong.

Eddie lets out a short chuckle, eyes dark, not soft like they usually are. He wasn't mad, you've known him long enough to understand what that looks like, but this--it was something else entirely. He leans in slowly, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

You were too hyperaware of your position now--Steve crowded over you, Eddie pushed in beside you. Steve hadn't even bothered to move, to enraptured by the show Eddie was putting on, almost like he was amused by it. You glance over at Steve, his mouth hung open slightly, still caught up in all the emotion of the moment, his grip never faltering.

"You think Harrington likes to watch? Or maybe he'll join in?" Eddie asks teasingly, eyes glancing toward Steve. Steve's eyes flit toward Eddie quickly, before returning to your own, eyes glossing over slightly. "He does get a little feisty when he drinks, doesn't he?"

"Eddie, just get to the point." You beg tiredly, glancing up toward him now. Eddie smiles, but it's slight, barely noticeable at all. He's thinking, contemplating. But, it doesn't take long before Eddie's leaning forward, chin grasped between his fingers in an effort to maneuver your face toward him. It's surprisingly gentle, despite how aggressive it would look to anyone passing by, luckily you three were completely alone.

"Just couldn't resist another taste, sweetheart." Eddie flirted entirely to well, it was one of his more annoying traits. He flirted with everyone, anything, it wasn't something you ever put much thought into. But, this--this was dirty, this was real. "I'll let myself regret it in the morning."

But, it's you who closes that gap, hand reaching up to graze the side of Eddie's face, fingers catching in one of his curls. Steve's grip on your waist tightens, but he doesn't move, doesn't let go. He hasn't even made a sound. Eddie licks into your mouth, desperate for more of you, teeth grazing against your bottom lip, nipping gently. Eddie was messy with passion in the way that Steve was slightly more coordinated--and the idea that you were even comparing the two was insane, but that was a thought for a later time. There were more pressing issues at hand--like, Eddie pulling away to suck at a particular spot on your neck, allowing you to finally lock eyes with Steve again.

"Can I kiss you?" His voice was rough, eyes drawn to where Eddie was sucking along your neck. You couldn't even be bothered to answer, nodding quickly in response. He pulls you in carefully, the hand that wasn't holding your waist a featherlight touch against your thigh, pulling your leg higher up his hip. He didn't seem to mind that Eddie wanted to join in, but he wanted to make sure his presence was still known. Not like you could forget it--this would be burned into your mind forever.

You sigh, desperate for more and more touch, from either of them. It was driving you wild, the way Eddie was whispering in your ear, taking the time to claim up your skin with his own mouth, all while being devoured by Steve’s, his tongue breaching past your lips, desperate to pull any little sound he could out of you. Words were pointless, you couldn’t even form one. It wasn’t like you were drunk enough to the point where you couldn’t make a rational decision, not that anything was making sense right now, but you were definitely aware.

“Switch me, Harrington.” Eddie sighs out, hand reaching around to grip at the thigh that Steve wasn’t occupying, squeezing at the sensitive flesh. You whine softly, the cold sting of his rings a very prominent reminder. This was Eddie, your best friend, and Steve—also your best friend—how were you going to recover from this?

Steve doesn’t put up a fight, surprisingly, switching with Eddie quickly, hand wandering up your chest, slipping under the thin material of your shirt. “This okay?” He asks into crown of your head, mouth buried into your hair, squeezing at your breast, over the flimsy bralette that covered them.

“So okay. So much better than okay.” You confess, pleasure having taken over your rational thinking completely. You catch the glance that Eddie sends Steve's way, watching his hand disappear under your shirt. And for a split second, Steve locks eyes with him. They could've buried you six feet under at this point, not even feeling like you were in control of yourself anymore. But, the feeling of Eddie's lips brushing against your own has you jolting back to reality, your hand coming up to push his hair out of his face, delving into his mouth, a sloppy mess of tongue and spit, just like before.

It was a stark contrast, the way Eddie was ready to devour you whole, compared to Steve, who was sure of himself, but never taking a step too far without checking in with you. It had you reeling, two of the boys you care about most, drawing sounds out of you that you had no idea existed. You had to stop this at some point, before you three woke up the next morning, unable to look at each other.

You sighed, reaching back to rub tenderly at Steve's arm, pulling his attention away from where his face was buried in your neck, barely grazing Eddie's, but it's enough to interrupt him. He pulls back, eyes softer now.

"We have to stop." You say, regretfully. As much as you wanted to let the alcohol think for you, some things just couldn't get out of control, not this. "We can't do this."

They both pull back slowly, slightly dejected. "Sorry." Steve says softly, attempting to subtly adjust the front of his pants, but he fails.

"Damn, Harrington." Eddie laughs, finally pulling back, fishing his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. "You just keep surprising me."

"Shut up." Steve shoots back, but there's no real emotion behind it. He almost laughs at the absurdity of the situation, not having fully processed everything either.

"I need to get back before Robin comes looking for me." You tell them both, the flick of Eddie's lighter louder in the silence that had settled.

"Eh, I don't know about that." Eddie gives you a playful look, taking a long drag from the cigarette. "She might be a little busy."

"With?" You ask, eyeing him carefully.

"Let's just say, Wheeler was pretty eager to run off with her earlier," He glances over at Steve, then back at you, "and I definitely didn't catch them making out over by the parking lot."

"Damn, I didn't think Robin had it in her." Steve comments offhandedly, seemingly proud of his friend.

"God," You sigh, rubbing your hands over your face tiredly, "this is the last party I'm ever tagging along on."

"Probably a good idea," Eddie says, smiling down at you, "you might end up falling in love with us." It's a lame attempt at a joke, but the way your heart flutters scares you.

"Yeah." You force a laugh, pushing yourself off the table and attempting to walk back toward the wild group of drunk teenagers. The boys trail closely behind, exchanging glances between each other unbeknownst you. Steve shakes his head in disbelief.

"Hey!" You hear Robin yells, jogging toward you. Nancy was close behind her, an obvious pep in her step. You gave Robin a suspicious look, eyeing her up and down. "So, these two ever stop acting so grumpy?"

"Yeah." You say slowly, glancing over at Nancy, who was forcing herself to hide the obvious smile on her face. "They'll be okay, we talked it out."

"Good, at least they finally figured their shit out." Robin whispers to you, glancing up at the two boys who were both wearing the same pair of shit-eating grins on their face at the sight of their other two friends.

"I could say the same for you."

The look on Robin's face is priceless, sending you running in the direction of Steve's car at the startled yell of your name. "She's gonna kill you for that." Eddie comments, gasping for breath when you finally come to a stop, arm draped over your shoulder gently.

"I told you, she just needed a nudge." Steve smirks, jingling the keys to his car in front of you. "Need a ride?"

It didn't matter if you three ended up in the back of Steve's car that night, somehow in the same situation as earlier, you could regret it in the morning. But truthfully, that wasn't the last time—and none of you ever regretted it.

#eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve x eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #steve harrington smut #i'm so mad the first draft was perfect #and then ploof #i hope it isn't too bad :(#my writing #this turned into a mini fic on accident

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