#still very much a god though so he's really only got to worry about shit if another god comes for him

[beatcroc]

Is your pfp an oc of urs? Any story?

yah that's N.K.

primer: a former god of fear who has since resigned, and now runs what is essentially an intergalactic tourist trap on his cursed planet, simply known as ''nk's domain''

i don't really do "stories" per se i just have my guys in their 'verse and they have their lore and sometimes that's actionable in a plot sort of way, but most of the time they are just doing their things. nk is one of my oldest oc's and as such probably the most, like, centralizing? nk's domain is sort of a meetup hub for most other characters that don't have their own defined Thing going on, as well as what several characters' Things are directly related to, but nk himself isn't all that much of an active player any more and most of the current story type stuff i'm working with has kinda moved beyond him.

aside from that it's just his history tying him to other stuff; there's a lotta old-guard guys who fuckin hate him back from when he was still doing the whole 'reign of terror' fear deity thing [nk used to stand for 'nightmare king' but he just goes by nk now], there's a bunch a new-guard guys he's pissed off for being the main force behind the universal outlawing of capitalism[honestly not that important and some worlds still do it anyway bc gods are bad at caring enough to actually enforce their rules unless it's like a Really egregious violation], and there's also the history of said "cursed planet" itself [he didnt do that he doesnt know why its like that he just saw it wand went ooooh free real estate. but theres a reason its like that and he's starting to pay the price for having taken it over [accidentally unleashed an imprisoned god-parasite plague][uh oh][its that yellow thing in the last image][this is actually what my "main" "story"/alleged webcomic is about] [go here go in the dark]]

[walpu]

I've got those requests almost at the same time jsrfwwxewe also I fucked up big time and accidentally deleted them but thanks god I've made the screenshots

I've been looking forward to writing something nsfw for him lmao

nsfw headcanons w/Aventurine

characters - Aventurine notes - gn!reader, nsfw, subby!Aven. Somehow turned into a character study. Somewhat angsty but with a turn for hurt/comfort. No beta.

Okay, first of all, he's no virgin. But he's NOT a manwhore either. Like for some reason when it comes to the cunning characters it's always either he's a dickrider-pussydestroyer-900 or he's actually a fragile innocent virgin baby. Not the case with Aventurine, not on my watch at least.

I mean it's pretty much canon that the only moment he feels truly alive is when he's gambling so he won't seek sex for the purpose of filling up the hole in his heart. And I don't see him as a lustful person in general.

He has one-night stands from time to time though. Not particularly often but once in a while he feels a certain level of frustration and stress budling up in him so in order to distress without losing his cool he seeks sexual relief. For him it's a safe way to relax a bit without actually taking off the mask of a frivolous and confident man.

Also. He's very touch starved. Not even in a lustful way, he just wants to feel someone's touch. Someone on twitter pointed out that he's practically hugging himself on his e6 and I haven't been the same ever since.

And now look at his body language in almost every cutscene. He has his arms crossed and is generally pretty reversed. I think he doesn't trust people around enough to be in his personal space but when it's a part of the sexual act, it's just natural. He doesn't have to feel exposed. So yeah. This is another reason why he seeks sex.

Now do you remember what Sparkle said to him? About stripping himself naked for Sunday and all that? Yeah I feel like he gets comments like that a lot due to people's prejudice against Avgins. People are usually not this straightforward butttt the idea behind their comments is the same.

He may act unaffected as long as he wants to but I do think it messed him up quite a bit.

Due to his fucked up views on his own value and his sexuality he doesn't have a healthy set of boundaries with his partners, allowing them to be as mean and rough as they want. And I don't mean just kinky stuff, I mean genuinely uncaring partners who really don't give a shit about Aven's comfort. I think subconsciously he seeks people like this. In his eyes, it's better this way, otherwise he may crumble from a gently and caring touch.

So yeah. His sexual encounters usually leave him sore and exhausted. The initial feeling of relief washes away in the morning, leaving him more empty than before.

Okay now to the happier part because we are 466 words in and I still didn't say anything good or sexy.

If the two of you started your relationship as a fling then initially he would be surprised because of how observant and attentive you are.

"My, my, how caring you are. But don't worry about me, you're free to use me as you wish" he says in the same flirty tone as usual. And you just. Stare.

He acts like he's bored while you literally pry the information out of him and, well, he doesn't give you anything specific anyway so you have to ask questions during the whole prosses to make sure he's doing fine. Orrr you just set for something very vanilla just in case.

In reality he's a bit confused. Has mixed feeling about this. Being treated with such care makes it harder for him to hide behind his mask but it feels so nice.

And when he realizes that he has actual feelings for you he just. Stops sleeping with you lmao. If you have questions about this he'll find 2134144 excuses but in reality he just tries to figure out his own feelings.

If you started off as friends then he would not try to sleep with you until you start dating. At first he just doesn't want to mix up this dynamics. And when he catches feelings, he just tries to make sense of it. Plus since sex is not something entirely positive for him, he's just kind of... unsure how it may affect your relationship even if it's obvious that the two of you want each other.

Okay now the real talk. When the two of you are officially lovers be prepared to face his messed up views on his own sexuality. Will probably need a lot of reassurance, attention and aftercare to realize the importance of his own safety and comfort. Learns to value himself through you.

A very good lover, knows how to please you and wants to please you. His previous sex partners weren't important to him so he didn't go out of his way to make them feel good but with you it's a different story. Literally worships your body, pressing kisses everywhere. Especially likes your thighs. Kisses them, bites them, leaves marks all over them. Loooooves teasing them while keeping eye contact with you right before giving you oral.

I feel like he's a switch but leans towards being a sub. May dom if you want him to or, rarely, if he feels like it.

May look like a brat but is not actually a brat. Well, most of the time. He's a tease but still does pretty much everything you want without making you work for it. However, if he's in a playful mood, may get all cheeky with you. Says stuff like: "Oh, that's all? I know you can do better" or "My dearest, don't disappoint me, okay? You know I don't make deals that don't pay off" just to rile you up. He loves being tamed okay. He knows you won't hurt him so him being all cheeky and disobedient is actually a huge sign that he's comfortable with you and trusts you fully.

Worship his body and he'll melt. Like. He'll genuinely crumble.

Goes all worked up and needy and soft and completely submissive in your arms.

Loves loves loves edging you. And fucking hate being edged. And by "hates" I mean he will whine and sulk and beg you to let him cum already. Secretly loves it but won't admit. You know it anyway since he never tries to stop you, obeying your every command, like a good boy he is. If you tell him that you'll stop doing that if he actually wants you to he'll huff and admit that he's not actually against you being a meanie.

Loves marking your body and loves when you mark his. HOWEVER would prefer to leave/have hickeys on the parts of your bodies that are usually covered. Doesn't want to create any rumors and doesn't want to make you uncomfortable. However, if you're into this, he'll gladly cover your entire neck with hickeys.

Is actually very sensitive pretty much everywhere so it's quite easy to overstimulate him. Once again, he'll whine but would never be against it.

Has the pretties moans and is very loud as well.

Doesn't have a lot of stamina so if he tops and you're still not satisfied after he cums, he'll use toys to entertain you up until he is ready for another round. If he bottoms then please give him some time to rest. Andddd kiss all over his body so he would get worked up again as soon as possible.

Has a praise kink. And a bit of a degradation kink too actually. Don't just insult him, mix it up with a praise and boom he's ready to cum.

Loves aftercare. Both giving and receiving it. He feels extremely vulnerable after a sensual lovemaking session so please just hold him and tell him he did great.

[nyoomfruits]

osctober day five

prompt: teacher pairing: charles/oscar word count: 900

“Seriously, Ames?” Oscar says, when he rounds the corner and finds her sitting on a chair just outside the classroom.

“It was for love, dad!” Amelia exclaims, jumping up when she sees him. “I can’t just not do it if it is for love.”

Oscar has conflicting opinions on that. It is, sweet, of course. He’s glad Amelia still believes in the concept of love at all, seeing as her own father is so completely shit at it. But like. He really wishes she would stop hosting flashmobs. Or serenades. Or that time she and that boy from her Spanish class that was really good at programming tried to make a matchmaking app.

“Right, yeah,” Oscar says, ruffling her hair. She’s too old for that now, and he knows he only gets away with it because she knows she’s in trouble. “Just. Maybe find a more quiet avenue next time, yeah? How about a good old fashioned love note?”

Amelia’s eyes light up in a way that the unexperienced eye would find adorable, but that fills the person who has been raising her for the past fifteen years mostly with dread. “Yes,” she breathes out, and then grabs for her bag, probably to retrieve a notepad.

“Okay, well, I guess while you go plan your next ‘disruption of a calm learning environment’ I will go speak with Mr. Leclerc yeah?” He says, hand on the doorknob. She barely glances at him and he sighs as he pushes open the door.

“Ah, Mr. Piastri,” Mr. Leclerc says, looking up from his desk with a wide smile. “You made it.”

Oscar thinks, generally, that he would have a much better time coming to the school to talk about his daughter’s behavior if her teacher wasn’t so goddamn pretty. With bright, sparkling eyes, and a lazy smile, and the kind of artfully tousled hair Oscar couldn’t even achieve if he tried.

The horribly baggy pants and oversized button up combo don’t even ruin the look. Somehow it makes him look cool. Oscar hasn’t looked cool since, well. Possibly ever.

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” Oscar says, sitting down in the chair Mr. Leclerc gestures at. “Again. I don’t know who he has it from.”

“Not you, I presume?” Mr. Leclerc says, eyes twinkling. He doesn’t seem mad, so that’s. Good. Amelia’s previous teacher consistently got their panties in a bunch about the well. Singing. And dancing. And everything.

“No, god no,” he hasn’t tried in a while, but he doesn’t think he could dance. Or sing.

“Her mother, perhaps?” Mr. Leclerc asks, flipping through some folders on his desk.

“Maybe,” Oscar says. “She hasn’t been around for a long time, so. Yeah. I think she mostly gets it from Lando? I mean not the singing and the dancing but this. Need to perform? He’s a DJ, so.”

“Ah, your partner?” Charles asks, looking up at Oscar now, curiously.

“Oh Christ no,” Oscar says, trying not to pull a face, remembers he’s talking to his daughter’s teacher, and schools himself into a more neutral expression. “No, uh. Lando’s just a friend. Of the family. He’s not. He has a boyfriend.”

“Ah,” Charles says. “Alright. Well, I mostly summoned you here because-“

“Because my daughter upheaved your class by performing a perfectly choreographed flashmob to Bruno Mars’s ‘Just The Way You Are’? Yeah, I uh. I heard. And I apologize, again. I’ve been trying to talk to her about it, but it’s-“ he pulls a face. “It’s just me and she’s just uh. Very different and sometimes I just. I don’t really know how to get through to her?”

It’s the most honest he’s been in a while. He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly blurting all of this out to Mr. Leclerc of all people. He’s blaming the big sparkly eyes. Stupid eyelashes, too.

“Hm, I can imagine. All parents kind of feel like that when they reach this age, though, don’t worry. No, I was actually wondering if you were aware of our after school theatre program? I think she would do wonderfully in there. If it’s more the dancing she’s into, or the singing, there’s also a dance team and a choir.”

Oscar blinks. Process. He’s so used to hearing Amelia’s teacher admonish her behavior he wasn’t really expecting anyone to. Well. Encourage her.

“Oh,” he says.

“They’re free, school funded programs, if that’s a concern,” Mr. Leclerc continues. “But I do think it might be a nice outlet for her.”

“Yeah,” he says. He knew, vaguely, that there were clubs. But Amelia had never expressed an interest, and he’d been too busy juggling his demanding job and raising a teenager to ever properly look into them and. Yeah. He takes the folder Mr. Leclerc hands him.

“Thak you, Mr. Leclerc,” he says. Mr. Leclerc stands, and so does he.

“No problem. That was all, really. I do some of the musical accompaniments for the theatre and choir programs so if you have any questions feel free to ask.” By the door, Mr. Leclerc takes his hand. Oscar shakes it a little dazedly. “And please. Call me Charles.”

“Oscar,” Oscar says. Charles hands are soft, and his smile is gentle, and his eyes are still so incredibly stupidly sparkly and fuck. Fuck.

“How did it go?” Amelia asks, when he steps back out the door.

‘I think I might be in love with your teacher’, he thinks. “We’re enrolling you into the school’s theatre program,” he says.

[ashthemadwriter-archived]

Pregnancy Dramas

—Things you faced when you were carrying their child

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Pairings: Dazai, Chuuya, Akutagawa, Fyodor, Kunikida X Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Mainly Humor

Format: Drabble

Warnings: Pregnancy, Pregnancy problems, Cravings, etc

Word Count: 1.4k

↳Osamu Dazai

If anyone had told Dazai that he would eventually settle down with someone, he would have merely laughed at them; but there he was, standing next to the infirmary bed while looking at you, his beloved wife, who was carrying his baby.

You were now three months pregnant, your belly shaped into a cute bump. You both agreed to not know about the gender of your baby till it finally arrives, therefor, whenever you went to a sonography you only asked the doctor if the baby was ok and refused to gain any more information. You were feeling sick a while ago so Dazai hurried to the hospital to show you to a doctor, and now you were waiting for the result.

The doctor smiled at Dazai's worried face and put the sonography results on the desk. "You're very attentive toward your wife's health condition, but these kind of problems are common during pregnancy. I'll give you some medicine to kill the pain, though I assure you, all four of them are fine"

"Thank you so much, doc—"

You suddenly froze. Looking at your husband and catching a glimpse of his shocked face, you turned your face toward the doctor. "How... How many?"

"Ah, you're carrying triplets, right?"

Shit.

"T-there has to be some kind of mistake, sir" You were now stuttering over your words and Dazai was still silently staring at the doctor with the same expression. "I mean we didn't want to know anything about our baby until it's born but— TRIPLETS? MY FUCKING VAGINA IS GOING TO EXPLODE!"

"I'll... give you a minute..."

As the doctor left the room, you covered your mouth with your hand. "Aren't you going to say something...?"

"I... guess we'll have to ask Kunikida to be the godfather..."

"So that we raise the kids with his money?"

"Yeah"

"Well, sounds like a plan"

↳Chuuya Nakahara

"Sob* this cake is sob* delicious..."

Chuuya had always had a hard time understanding people around him since they were all a bunch of weirdos, and ever since you showed him the result of your pregnancy test, he couldn't really get you either.

"Yeah... I would have believed you if you weren't crying while eating it" He shook his head with disappointment as he reached for the cake tray, but you snatched it away and shot him a threatening look. "DON'T YOU DARE EAT MY CAKES. THEY'RE ALL MINE!"

"Ok ok, geez..."

"WHAT'S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?"

"Nothing! Eat your cakes!"

"Don't tell me what to do! I eat my cakes whenever I want to!"

"Do whatever you want y/n"

You shoved the rest of the cakes in your mouth, and your sobs got even louder. "I'm sob* gonna get nom nom* fat... Waaaa this is so tasty... sob*"

Chuuya thought of leaving the room, but that could make you even angrier.

"It's all your fault that I'm fat since you're the one who got me pregnant in the first place!"

"I'm not complaining baby doll, you look even prettier like this..."

"SO NOW YOU WANT ME TO BE FAT?"

"My god that's not what I fucking meant!"

During these few months, you had become overly sensitive and moody. He really was the one to blame— Chuuya did knew that; but sometimes he lost control and snapped out, like now. Though the second he saw your teary eyes, he sighed and leaned to plant a kiss on your cheek. "I'm sorry honey... What can I do to make you feel better?"

"...More cakes please?"

↳Fyodor Dostoevsky

You were lying on the couch and Fyodor was sitting on the floor with his head on your belly, wearing a soft smile that made your heart flutter. He had become extra sweet with you since the day you got pregnant, so despite all the pain and trouble you were going through, you didn't want these days to be over.

"Are you sure she's going to kick?" he held your hand gently and lightly kissed your palm.

"Positive. I mean, I kinda have the feeling... You know, motherly instinct and stuff..."

"Then I shall wait a little longer" He closed his eyes and started stroking your hand with his thumb. You couldn't help but to reach out for his cheek with your free hand to caress it, and you almost died when he leaned to your touch.

"Fedya..." "I love you too, my darling"

Then it happened.

A light kick indirectly hitting his head, announcing her presence to her daddy.

Fyodor smiled, a dazzling one that was rare and charming to the eye, and looked at your belly. "My... Our baby is a wild one. That was one aggressive kick"

"I'm sure she's just impatient" Giggling softly, you patted your belly. "She's not aggressive, she only wants to arrive soon. Our baby will be an angel"

"She will be; she takes after her mother, after all"

You closed your eyes at the feeling of his lips pressed against your forehead, thankful for your lovely family. You went through a lot to get to this moment, but you could never regret it even one bit. Not when you have Fyodor, and your soon-to-be-born baby.

↳Ryuunosuke Akutagawa

Safe and sound sleeps had always been a stranger to Akutagawa. Growing up in the slums, he had to sleep with his eyes open so that he would be ready when a threat came along; and even though he was not living in the slums anymore, he still couldn't get much of a sleep.

You wouldn't let him.

"Ryuu" You shook him lightly, watching as his nose scrunched up with annoyance. He seemed put out and he didn't even open his eyes, talking to you with a low, husky voice. "What?"

"I want fried chicken"

You observed him as his eyes shot open and stared at your serious face with disbelief. He looked kind of shocked, and you wondered if he was familiar with the term "Craving".

"Y/n it's 4am" He sounded unsure. "All of the stores have closed by now"

"I'm pregnant with a seven months old baby Ryuunosuke, I don't care if it's 4am"

"Well I'm not going out right now either" He closed his eyes again, trying to go back to sleep; but your sudden remark suddenly sobered him up.

"Fine then, I guess I'll just have to eat you instead of the chicken"

Your tone was not humorous, nor it was threatening. It was more like you were announcing your next steps if you don't get your way.

"I don't think I'm enough to satisfy you. I'm all bones, barely any flesh"

"Then I'll eat your sister. She's not as skinny as you. She's living next door, isn't she?"

Looking at you again, Akutagawa searched for a hint of humor in your eyes to confirm that you were joking; but all he saw was a dangerous gaze, shooting out of a hungry, pregnant woman's vicious eyes.

"...I'll go get my coat"

↳Doppo Kunikida

"Y/n? Where are you?"

Hearing your husbands voice, you get up and exit the bedroom to greet him at the front door of your apartment. You announced your pregnancy to him last night, making him thrilled to bits. After celebrating with you, he had started planning out the ideal schedule for the nine months ahead. He had left you hours ago to go shopping for necessary items, and now he was finally back.

"Welcome home, Anata" You pecked him on the cheek. "So? What did you buy? Lemme see them"

The blonde smiled and took your hand, dragging you inside the living room to sit on the couch. He then started taking his purchases out of the shopping bags, explaining about them with slight excitement.

"This is a medicine to help you stop vomiting, this device is baby sleep that would inform us when the baby wakes up in it's room, and these are some clothes that I bought for the baby. I tried to buy neutral clothes since we still don't know the gender of our baby"

"Oh Doppo, I think it's still too soon to buy some of these" You chuckled and took the small shirt to have a better look of it. Its small size made you feel butterflies in your stomach. You were having a baby that probably looked like your husband. You finally had a family of your own. Nothing could stop you from being happy. Nothing...

"And these are for when your body gets bigger"

You looked at the pregnancy pants in his hands. "When my body gets bigger?"

"Yes"

NOTHING CAN STOP YOU FROM BEING HAPPY.

"Your ankles are gonna swell, your breast are gonna get bigger, even your face might get a bit out of shape in the last month. Your cheeks might bloat as well too. There will also be stretch marks on your belly, and your vagina might dilate if you choose not to have a caesarean... ARE THOSE TEARS IN YOUR EYES??"

All rights reserved © 2023 AshTheMadWriter. Please do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works on any platform.

[thewertsearch]

ERIDAN: im just saying wwhere the fuck wwere you guys ERIDAN: i had to deal wwith those awwful angels all by my self ERIDAN: do you havve any idea howw hard those assholes are to kill ERIDAN: like at least a minute of sustained fire from only the most legendary wweapon evver and they wwere FAST and ANGRY as SHIT

That's fucking terrifying, what the fuck?

Even without a maxed weapon, John was able to kill a First Guardian Imp in well under a minute.

Eridan's 'angels' survived significantly longer, while under fire from a significantly more powerful weapon. They're massively more durable than the most dangerous Underlings in the game, despite their session's Kernels containing weaker material.

What the fuck are these things made of?

KARKAT: I REALLY DON'T THINK YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE KILLING THEM DUDE. KARKAT: I KEPT SAYING, I THINK THEY'RE LIKE GAME CONSTRUCTS OR SOMETHING. THERE TO SERVE SOME OTHER GAME PURPOSE, NOT FOR YOU TO HUNT DOWN. KARKAT: THEY DIDN'T EVEN GIVE YOU ANY GRIST, YOU IDIOT. THAT WAS YOUR FIRST CLUE.

Far from being random Underlings, these angels are starting to seem kind of important, actually.

Like Jade's frogs, they represent one of the dual traits of their Land - and Jade's frogs are mission fucking critical. Did these angels also have an endgame purpose to serve?

If so, just how badly has Eridan fucked us over?

I don't know for sure if this quote is related, but Sollux described angels as 'terrible' beings who 'usher in the end'.

If these are the the LOWAA angels, then they almost certainly did have an endgame role that Eridan didn't discover.

Guys, I’ll admit it.

Eridan is kind of funny.

Karkat is really worried, isn’t he? He’s desperate to keep his team safe, even though most of them aren’t really listening to him any more.

Everyone gave this guy so much shit for being an ineffectual leader, but even now, he's taking his responsibility very seriously. Most of the other trolls would have thrown in the towel by now.

Six hundred hours.

This campaign went on for six hundred fucking hours, and Eridan still isn’t leaving Feferi the fuck alone. Did shooting all those angels not let off a little steam? Come on, man.

FEFERI: […] Eridan, you weren't really serious about going to find Jack, were you? ERIDAN: of course i wwas ERIDAN: and wwe should do it together ERIDAN: youvve got nothin to fear noww ivve reached a neww heights of powwer no one else can dream of […] SOLLUX: thii2 ii2 the mo2t hiilariiou2 thiing ii've ever heard, he made one of hii2 2hiitty fake wand2 glow a liittle and now he thiink2 he'2 a faiiry god troll or 2omethiing, lmao! ERIDAN: wwas that slander just i heard i cant evven tell ERIDAN: i tend to block out noise from filth wwhose blood is practically the complementary fuckin color a mine

I hate to admit it, but this behavior is actually fairly realistic. The whole world has collapsed, and Eridan is grasping for anything he can latch onto, to provide some semblance of normalcy.

Unfortunately, and predictably, he has latched onto classism like a limpet.

[dootznbootz]

that WHO in no longer u oh my GOD

YESSSS

Like, yeah, Odysseus is like "Yandere" (joking but also not) because kills all who even go near Penelope and Telemachus and he's very protective of them AND jealous.

But I think this "WHO?!" is also a desperate plea as to who is this dangerous man who is near his wife? A warlord? A conquerer? A man who would not even care about Penelope for who she is and mistreats her?

Because even in the Odyssey, Odysseus asks about Penelope to his mother.

Tell me of the wife I married. What are her thoughts and plans? Is she still there with our son, keeping watch on everything? Or has she been married                            to the finest of Achaeans?

(Book 11, Johnston)

There's not even much resentment in his question. There could be but Narrator does not say. The use of "the finest of Achaeans" almost is a "Did she at least marry the best man? Did she at least marry a GOOD man?"

In "No Longer You", when he hears of this dangerous man NEAR his wife, he is SCARED. It could be jealousy but I feel it's more of concern. As it is in the Odyssey.

"I understand if she would remarry, it pains me but I did tell her that when Telemachus finally grows his beard, she could. I will love her always but is she at least happy? Is she safe?"

And she's not safe. She's not happy. He is terrified.

Psst. The reason why My Odysseus takes a long time to grow his beard is because of that line. He's hoping that his son will take after him and take forever to grow a beard like he did (as he doesn't really have one even when he first leaves for Troy) because he would try forever to get home. Penelope even teases him that he still doesn't have one so that's a silly request and that's the point. "I will never stop trying to come back to you. He and I will likely remain beardless forever." (it's a little funky for him when he finally grows one by the end of Troy. He's thinking "...Shit. Telemachus, stay baby-faced for your dad please.")

ANYWAYS.

I mean we all know that these two are obsessed with each other in the Odyssey and in Epic. They are likeminded and are so integral to who they are. They mean everything to one another. I think Odysseus genuinely does want Penelope happy. As even in the Odyssey with him simply asking for another bed, shows how much he loves and respects her. He could've been like "get in it" even though she had rejected him at first but he LISTENS BECAUSE HE LOVES HER. Only breaking down into a sobbing mess when he believes she destroyed their bed.

"Heaven made you as you are, but for sheer obstinacy you put all the rest of your sex in the shade. No other wife could have steeled herself to keep so long out of the arms of a husband she had just got back after nineteen years of misadventure. Well, nurse, make a bed for me to sleep alone in. For my wife's heart is just about as hard as iron."

(Book 23, Rieu)

Please note that this is his attempt to insult her in a way and yet he still talks about her being from Heaven 👀 SIMP

But even though he's deeply hurt by her rejection (poor guy would've probably sobbed himself to sleep) He still asks for another bed. After sleeping on the floor and in the dirt since he's been on Ithaca, refusing beds unless it's his own marriage bed, he takes her 'no' because he values her happiness and comfort over his own. He takes a lesser bed so she can still sleep in their own luxurious one.

I mean we know how fucking awful the suitors are. Hold Them Down is a disturbing song. (as it should be. As they are not good men) He does not even know how bad these men are yet. If his future self could speak with his past self, he'd probably be like "Yeah, don't worry about the guy who kills a bunch of people, they had it coming. ;) " or something.

That "WHO?!" is a mix of jealousy AND fear.

[gojos-thot-patrol]

Now Loading...

A short drabble in which Sukuna grapples with the fact he's going to be a dad

Sukuna had never wanted to be a dad. Why would he have any desire for that? A ball of snot and shit that rolled around on the floor and insisted on getting into everything? No thank you. He had other far better things to worry about. A child was out of the question.

So, it's really no surprise that you kept your pregnancy secret from him for so long. You may have been his favorite of the concubines, but you didn't think his favoritism extended that far. You'd seen other girls slaughtered for being cursed with a child, and were trying to avoid that fate for as long as possible. You couldn't avoid Sukuna though, not if you wanted to hold your spot as favorite. And that spot was the only chance you had of surviving this whole ordeal.

Sukuna wasn't an idiot, much to your dismay, and was very familiar with your body. The moment you started to show, he knew. And the resulting temper tantrum was nothing short of horrific. 

“And just how long were you planning on keeping this from me?!" He yelled so loud you could feel your soul shake. Tears streamed freely down your face as you tried to make yourself seem small.

"I don't know-" you confessed. 

"You don't know?!" He snapped, "you don't fucking know?! Do you think im stupid Y/n? Is that it? Did you think I wouldn't notice you were fucking pregnant?!" He punctuated his sentence with a punch to the wall, making what felt like the whole structure shake. 

"I'm sorry My Lord." You knew better than to try to defend yourself in this situation. Sometimes it was safe to push back against Sukuna. Sometimes he liked to play brat tamer, and remind you of your place in fun ways. Now was not one of those times. To challenge him now would be to meet whatever God it was you worshiped, or lack thereof. 

"You're sorry," He sneered, "you're so sorry, like that fucking fixes anything! Why wouldn't you tell me the moment you knew?!"

"I didn't want to upset you."

"You fucked that up when you got pregnant, whore." He scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose and looking away in disgust. "Abhorrent girl, bringing a disgusting creature into my temple. Get out my sight until I can decide what to do with you."

You didn't need to be told twice. You rushed out of his throne room and back into the concubines quarters, just thankful to have your life. All in all, he took the news surprisingly well and it went better than you thought. You held your stomach as you worried about what your Lord would have done with your baby. With his baby. But, for now, you had survived the most dangerous part of all of this. Now you really just felt like you needed a nap.

Sukuna avoided you for weeks after that. It was harder than you thought to be on the other side of the avoidance game. You didn't realize how much you had grown to appreciate Sukuna’s attention until it was gone. You wondered what the hell he was up to, especially considering none of the other girls had been "blessed" with his attention either. 

He was too busy battling with his own internal demons. The part of him that wanted you dead for the creature you were brining into his temple- and the part of him that wondered what a baby from the two of you would look like. Would they have his cursed techniques? Would they have your eyes? This was the part of himself that he hated the fucking most. 

He was a ruthless warlord, he had no time for love or children or a family. And he definitely didn't have it in him to admit he'd grown soft for a fucking concubine of all things. How fucking pathetic of him. The only way he could rationalize any of this was to tell himself it was a for an heir. He wasn't going to live forever after all, might as well take this opportunity. Still, was really going to let a fucking whore mother his heir? There was only really one thing he could do. 

You still remember the ice in your veins as you realized all of the concubines had been gathered in the court yard for an execution. It made sense, he hadn't been with any of you for a month now- and for the other girls quadruple that. You had all just become extra mouths to feed. 

So then why weren't you down there with the rest of them? There was no hiding your swollen stomach now, if any of the concubines stood to be killed- it was you. But you had been tucked away safe from the executions in Ryomens sleeping quarters. Why? 

The answer came pretty quick as he joined you in his room. His face was unreadable, which chilled you more than any blizzard could have hoped for. Ryomen had always worn his emotions on his face, and you had always been able to read him as if he were a well loved book. This was out of your comfort zone. You didn't like this.

"I spoke to your father." He finally said.

"My father's alive?!" You gasped 

"Yeah, I was shocked too." He huffed, taking your hands in his. "You're to be my wife." He said rather bluntly as he looked into your eyes. There was no room for negotiation here, Sukuna made that clear. Despite yourself, you felt a wave of excitement surge through your body.

"I am?!" You asked, smilingly like a fool. He gave a rare, gentle smile back. And that's when you finally saw the softness in his eyes that was only reserved for you. 

"You are." He confirmed, "under the condition that you can birth me a healthy heir, that is." He said, placing an uncharacteristically gentle hand on your stomach. You knew without him having to say it that this was his best attempt at an apology. The future king of curses could never bring himself to say the words 'I'm sorry' or 'I was wrong.'  But, he could lovingly take you in his arms, and hope you got the message.

Ryomen was unnaturally tender in the days leading up to you giving birth. He had all of the best doctors on standby, and refused to leave your side. Anyone that so much as breathed wrong in your vicinity would have hell to pay. He didn't know what the fuck had gotten into him. All he knew was that as your stomach got heavier, his need to protect you and the life growing in you got more intense. Like some animalistic part of his brain knew a part of him was inside you, and to protect you was to protect himself. At least, that was how he rationalized it.

The day you gave birth he was a fucking mess. It killed him to listen to your screams of pain and be unable to do anything to help. All he could do was let you break his hand with your death grip, and reassure you you were doing amazing. Rare moments of his praise lost in the sounds of an agonizing labor. He didn't expect the relief that washed over him when he first heard his son cry, a sound he thought was going to be horrifically annoying some how sounding like music to his ears.

"Y/n, can you hear him?" He asked, mostly to make sure you were still alive. 

"Sadly." You were not as enthused by baby screaming as Ryomen was. You were decently pissed off when, after being cleaned and checked over, the baby was given to Ryomen instead of you. You were the one that carried that bitch for nine months, and had just spent hours to deliver him, you should get to hold him first!!

All of that melted away when you saw the look in your husband's eyes as he stared down at his new child. You had never seen Ryomens eyes twinkle, but they were absolutely sparkling now. It even took him off guard just how deeply he fell in love with the baby the moment they touched. Flesh of his flesh, blood of his blood, he was holding his entire future in his arms. His chest felt like it was going to implode from how tight it was, and- holy shit, was he holding back tears?!

"He's beautiful." Ryomen finally choked out.

"He looks just like you." You hummed. He chuckled and shook his head.

"No, not at all. He's too good to look anything like me. He's all you." You shook your own head at the blatant lie. That kid was carved from the exact same marble Ryomen was, but you had no energy to argue. 

Soft cries started to bubble up from baby boy as he stirred. Instinctively, you reached out for your son. It was almost reluctantly that Ryomen handed him over to you. You smiled as you pressed your newborn to your chest to feed him, finally getting a good look at the life you brought into this world. 

"Thought of any names?" You asked your husband. Ryomen paled a bit. He really hadn't. 

"None worthy of him." Technically it wasn't a lie. You chuckled softly. You expected such an answer. 

"What about Ryuu?" You asked, looking up at Ryomen.

"Ryuu?" He asked, mulling the name over. The name meant Dragon. It was strong, and noble. He could definitely see Ryuu Sukuna leading his armies into battle one day. He smiled and nodded. "I like it. Ryuu it is."

[scoops-aboy86]

If You Were Serious (Secret Admirer pt 7)

Okay, so there will be more than seven chapters. For now, please enjoy Steve on painkillers and creative mix tape shenanigans.

(The crossed out thing after the first "Dear" is the first line of an E.)

wc: 3226 / rated: T / set end of/after season 3 / also on ao3

Dear I

Dear Secret Amdirer,

Sorry, painkillers kicking in. I got pretty banged up in the mall, in the fire. Well, less the fire and more getting hit by stuff. Mall fell down. I have ribs and eye and nose, and concussion this time so I had to stay over at Robin’s because someone had to keep an eye on me sleeping and my parents are still out of town. Dustin said I won at upper body injury bingo but I didn’t even know I was playing, that sounds like really a shitty game. 

Anyway, I haven’t been home so I don’t know if you tried to call. If you did, don’t worry!!! I’m not mad. I don’t not like you anymore just because you’re you. And this isn’t the durg drugs talking because I read your letter first before they kicked in, but I have to write this ASAP so it can get to you faster. 

You could’ve called back that night but if you needed some time to breathe I get it, it’s cool. And I kinda had a feeling after that you might be a guy? Like, shit, man, they’d eat you alive in this town. Not me, I learned my lesson after Jonathan wrecked my face after I called him and his family some bad things. I deserved that. Kinda funny how the next year he stole my girlfriend and now I like you. If you could still be interested in somebody who used to be like that. 

I know I like you because when you hung up I was really worried, you sounded like you were breathing really fast, maybe a panic attack? I have those after nightmares now. Robin too. (Don’t worry, we bonded and she’s like my sister now, she says we’re playdoh soulmates

“Oh my god, I knew explaining who Plato was was a bad idea. It’s platonic, Steve, not Play-Doh.”

“Stop reading over my shoulder! … How do you spell that?”

“P-L-A-T-O-N-I-C.”

“Thanks Robbie.”

she says we’re playdoh soulmates platonic soulmates.) I was worried about you and thought maybe you might be a guy but, that wasn’t as important as wanting you to be okay, you know? You still wrote me all those nice letters. You’ve made me feel really good about myself, why does it have to be different just because you’re not a girl? I can’t tell you why Robin knows about this stuff but she says I might be bysix bisexual. Not sure why I need a big fancy word for it when I didn’t have one for liking girls, I just know I care about you a lot and want you to like me. 

And you’re not a coward, you’re very very brave. You reached out first, you went for what you wanted even when I didn’t get it and tried to ask for too much too soon. And then you kept coming back to try again, even though I kept doing that. That’s so brave. 

I’m not feeling so awake anymore so I’m going to stop and have Robin mail this for me. (No way am I going out dressed like this. Her dad wears grandpa shorts dude, it’s pretty bad.) I’ll write more when I’m feeling better. Are you okay? Hope you weren’t anywhere near the mall the other night. Thanks for the rainbow song I will look for it.

Love Steve 

~

Once Eddie is done reading, he screams into his pillow for a different reason. Several, actually. 

First, he’s been so sure for the past week or so that he would never hear from Steve ever again. The only reason he’d checked his mail today was because he should have another zine coming in soon. He didn’t, but there was a yellow envelope with familiar, if slightly messier than usual handwriting on it. And inside that, stationary with colorful geometric shapes along the edges that Eddie now surmises is Robin’s. 

Second, Steve isn’t even writing to tell him to fuck off right to hell. Because yes, Eddie had heard the rumors about Steve calling Jonathan Byers a queer. The irony does send a seam of semi-hysterical laughter through his screams. It’s fine. It’s fine!

Third, Steve hasn’t been avoiding his calls. He just hasn’t been home. He’s hurt, and it sounds like his head and torso took quite a beating. Eddie remembers seeing him around school both times after the other concussions and that had looked bad enough, and that had just been his face. This sounds worse. 

Fourth, Steve is… still interested? Has talked to someone about this and might be bisexual?! Eddie’s never had anyone talk to someone else about him, has always been completely anonymous with a possible option of becoming a dirty little secret. And then the letter ends with ‘Love Steve.’ Love? Love Steve?!

Fifth, Robin knows he sent Steve that ice cream. Eddie doesn’t know what all “platonic soulmates” entails, but what if she tells him? What if she already has?!

Sixth, despite being injured, and having panic attacks apparently, Steve is still asking if he is okay. 

Seventh, beneath his name Steve had also doodled a lopsided happy face with what he can only guess is an ice pack balanced on top. Or… maybe it’s hair. Or some kind of hat. 

Any of these would be enough to make his head spin on their own, but it’s all happening at once and he doesn’t know what to do. So he screams into his pillow for a while longer, kicking his feet for good measure. 

He wants to rush out and find Steve, wherever he is. Wants to call him, but doesn’t know what he would say even if he did know the number to reach him right now. What he could say. Wants to wrap both arms around him and kiss his poor head better. Hell, if he’s turned Steve gay he doesn’t just want, he deserves to make that guy the little spoon for the first time in his life probably and just. Hold him. 

Except… he’s not sure he’s ready for face to face yet. He will be! Soon. Once all the emotions bubbling in his chest have settled a little. And after he’s pinched himself a few million more times just to make sure. But until then…

A thought occurs to him, and Eddie rolls over to frown consideringly up at the ceiling. He’s sent Steve words to comfort and reassure him before, right? Maybe there’s something else he can send, a different way of offering a part of himself to Steve until he works up the nerve to face him for real. 

It’s just going to take him a little time, and some recording equipment. 

~

Dearest Steve,

I hope this address is still okay to write to you while you stay with your friend, but I don’t know where she lives. 

You have no idea 

Holy shit man. Holy shit. Are you serious? No, strike that, you’ve been nothing but genuine in these letters and I trust you, I do. Holy shit though. It’s you. Clearly I never thought I’d actually have a chance, from the way I approached this whole thing, so you must forgive me for how utterly poleaxed, completely flabbergasted, and genuinely gobsmacked I am. 

And shit, I’m still sorry for hanging up on you. That golden years line—and this heavy secret of the most basic fact of who I am weighing on my shoulders, pressing down so hard I couldn’t breathe. I wish I’d just said something. But you’re right, I needed… space? And a push, to work up to writing the last letter I sent you. I got yours the day I put that in the mail, by the way, and that spun me even more because what if you read mine and took it all back?

But you didn’t. You didn’t, sweetheart. I’m still reeling in the best possible way. Again, axed like a pole, flabbers gasted, and gob thoroughly smacked.

Enough about me. More than enough about me. You’re concussed; I ought to wrap that gorgeous head of yours in bubble wrap and offer to fight all your battles henceforth, even against falling buildings. I’m glad you have someone out there who’s looking out for you though. I guess… you’ve told Robin about some things? Maybe these letters? Which is absolutely fine, by the way. It’s great! Fuck knows it wouldn’t have occurred to me to explain what bisexuality is, since I hardly dared to dream so big and only swing the one way myself. You’re an amazingly open-minded person by the way, Steve; I hope you know how rare that is, especially in a place like Hawkins. And Robin too, apparently. Please give her my highest regards, she is an angel among mortals and an inadvertent champion of this sad wet rag of a human being (me). 

At any rate, wishing you the speediest of recoveries and I hope you’re already feeling at least a little better. My condolences on the grandpa shorts, although personally I’m convinced you could wear a trash bag and still look like an Adonis. 

It’s taken me a little longer than I’d like to send this because I made something for you. Enclosed is a tape with some of the songs from our call that you said you liked, played acoustically by yours truly. Rainbow In The Dark is one of them. You mentioned having nightmares, and whenever I had bad dreams as a kid my mom would play for me until I calmed down. She’d hum instead of doing the words, to make it more like a lullaby. I hope it’s at least a decent distraction, sweetheart. 

Let me know if you like it? I can make one of your favorite songs too, just you let me know what they are. In the meantime, I remain, as always—

Your Secret Admirer

~

“You should tell him that you know,” Robin whispers, at some point during the fourth night in a row they’ve ended up crashed on the same bed listening to the Anti-Panic Attack Metal Mix. 

Her dad sleeps like the dead and her mom sleeps with earplugs in because he snores, so they get away with it, but Steve always insists on laying on top of the covers anyway. The friendship is still new, for all that they’re trauma bonded, and he wants to make sure she knows he’s not getting any funny ideas, that he gets the whole lesbian thing, that even though he’s new to being into a dude he’s committed to it and not wishy-washy or greedy or whatever.

He fiddles with a loose string on the blanket for a minute before answering. “No… I don’t want to freak him out again. It’s all going to be on his terms from here on out, no more pushing.”

“Well you’ve got to do something. Come on Steve, I’m invested now. Ask to meet him.”

He rolls his eyes. “What did I just say?” 

Immediately he gives an inward wince, because that came out bitchy. But Robin just snorts and murmurs “Fine,” sounding amused rather than offended, so he relaxes. 

They exist in silence for a while, side by side. Just close enough to not feel alone, drifting on the soft notes and low, rich hum. It’s soothing. 

“What if,” Robin starts, and ignores Steve’s huff. “What if you go somewhere you know he might show, and then give him the opportunity to talk to you?”

“Oh yeah,” he scoffs, “like what?”

“Summer house party.” Her whisper picks up a little in excitement as she warms to her own idea. “I bet we can find one that’s coming up soon. Everyone knows that Munson sells, it’s one of those never invited but always welcome things. Then if he doesn’t come to you, just buy some weed and see if he says anything.”

“No,” Steve whispers back. 

She rolls over to squint at him in the dark. “Just think about it, okay? You wouldn’t be forcing him to do anything, just… providing an opportunity. Come on, Stevie-evie, this is my chance to see a gay love story go right.”

“Vetoing that nickname.” With a sigh, he rolls onto his side too, facing her. “My face still looks like raw hamburger meat, Robs. I have like zero charm right now.”

The swelling has gone down, at least to where he can open his eye again but the bruising remains spectacular. It looks like a sunset exploded across the side of his face, and not in a good way. 

Robin rolls her eyes. “You’re more than just your face, dingus. It wasn’t your rugged jawline, sculpted cheekbones, or pimple-free forehead that wrote those letters, it was you. Steve.”

He goes to wrinkle his nose at the descriptions, but quickly remembers that’s still a bad idea with a swallowed grunt. “Please, never describe me again.”

“I make no promises. And anyway, if you’re willing to try makeup I think we could get most of it covered so no one’ll ever notice. Not at night, anyway.”

That gives him pause. He rolls onto his back again to think about it, staring up at the ceiling of Robin’s bedroom and tracing imaginary constellation lines between the glow in the dark stars she has up there. Beside him, he feels her settling on her back too without having to look. 

It’s not like when he’d found a little brother in Dustin—who has visited pretty much every day during Steve’s convalescence, sometimes with Erica or Mike, Lucas, and Max in tow, spouting off things he’s read in books about the various still-healing injuries. As annoying as it is, Steve appreciates that the little dork took the time to study what’s wrong with him enough to provide armchair diagnoses and give him advice about things that he already knows. 

Robin is… more of a twin than a sister. (Which, yeah, twin sister, whatever. That’s not the point.) They’re on the same wavelength in a way he’s never experienced before, not with Tommy or Carol or even Nancy. The closest thing Steve has ever had to this was during basketball games, in the heat of a play where everyone on the team knew where everyone was and where they’d be and how to work together as a unit, perfectly in sync. Only with Robin, it’s all the time. Sometimes they can even finish each other’s sentences—though they try not to do that around her parents, in the interest of not wanting them to think they’re a couple. 

They’re more like a pair of bonded kittens at the pound, Robin says. Must be adopted together. (“Okay, but why can’t we be dogs? Dogs are cooler.” “Because, dingus, you have a one-hundred-and-twenty-seven step hair and skin routine and you’re incredibly aloof when you want to be. I could go either way, but you’re one hundred percent cat.”)

“Maybe,” he whispers finally. 

He’s not sure she’s still awake—he’s not sure he’s still awake, with the soothing music lulling him back to a calm he hadn’t felt even before he’d gone to bed the first time. But he wants to think she hears it, just like he wants to think that he’ll run into Eddie and find out what it’s like to hold his hand, maybe even kiss him, all in the same night. He’s worn lip gloss, he can deal with a little makeup. 

“Maybe I’ll go.”

~

Dear Secret Admirer,

Thank you for the tape, it’s perfect. It helps me get back to sleep because it feels like you’re there, watching over me. Like nothing bad can happen. Sometimes the nightmares still come back after but I think it’s getting better. It takes a while, you know? Last time, after the after Billy after my last concussion it took a while to stop having bad dreams. I guess the mind needs time to heal too, even if the stuff that happens to it isn’t as “real” as breaking a nose or a rib. Who knew?

I really am serious, yeah. Even though I’m me. Whatever that means. I don’t really know what to do with myself or what I want right now. (Except you. Kind of cheesy, but maybe you like that about me? I guess it’s something I always tried to hide before because the guys would’ve made fun of me, fuck knows Tommy did all of junior year, but I kind of like the idea that maybe you saw it anyway.) Once my face heals up me and Robin are going to try and get jobs together somewhere else because we’re cats that have to stick together or we’ll get stressed out and claw all the furniture. Other than that I don’t know what I want to do except leave Hawkins someday. But stick around to make sure it’s to see the kids graduate. Dustin’s starting high school in the fall, maybe you could keep an eye out for him? Curly hair, no collarbones, ego bigger than the whole state, total nerd but in a good way, even if he’s sometimes a butthead about it. He plays that game with dragons and those weird looking dice, do you know it? Him and his friends Mike and Lucas are kind of bully magnets. (Max is starting freshman year too but she can take care of herself in that department.) They’ve all been pretty down after the mall and with Will and moving away and everything. Erica, Lucas’ little sister, I guess I’m her “babysitter” now too, is still in middle school but I don’t know if she’d be glad or insulted if I waited around to see her graduate. She can take care of herself too. She and Dustin were with us for most of the Starcourt burning down and it was a lot, but kids are resilient. I don’t think she gets nightmares, not that she would ever admit to anyone if she did even though in her own words “we’ve bled together.” She’s getting into the nerdy dice game too and is planning her campaign for President of the USA as soon as she turns, what, 40? 50? Whatever age you have to be before you can do that. I’ll probably still be in a town like Hawkins with another lame retail job by then, but she’s got my vote. She’d do a hell of a lot better job than Regan, that’s for sure. 

Is your mom My mom never sang to

Also, you are really good at guitar, man. I still think about your hands, I bet you have long fingers. Really… What’s a word for ‘good with his fingers’? I think about that sometimes. I don’t really know what kind of stuff two guys can do together except the obvious but I think about that a lot. I want you to play me like your guitar. I’d let you fight my battles too, at least until my ribs get back to normal and then we can both fight both of our battles. You know I’d do that for you, right? If you ever need me. I really like these letters. I really like you.

Love, Steve

P.S. If you were serious about making me another tape (which you really don’t have to, this was already going above and beyond), my favorite songs are…

Tag list (and if you missed the earlier chapters check the "#secret admirer steddie" tag on my blog): @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve @steviewashere

@cryingglightningg @theresebelivett @sleepy-steve @rozzieroos @lunaraindrop

@just-my-latest-hyperfixation @wheneverfeasible @swimmingbirdrunningrock @yesdangerpls @matchingbatbites

@ihavekidneys @p0lybl4nkk @grtwdsmwhr @cheesedoctor @whalesharksart

@thetinymm @envyadams-vs-me @practicallybegging @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @dauntlessdiva

@nerdyglassescheeseychick @fuzzyduxk @chaosgremlinmunson @greatwerewolfbeliever @goosesister

@dolphincliffs @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @beckkthewreck @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @kurofuckingshi16

@bookworm0690 @millseyes-world @live-laugh-love-dietrich @the-tenth-mus-e

[gothgleek]

Agnus Tully- NSFW Alphabet

I do not own the Holdovers nor the images used in this post. All thoughts are my own. The borders are from @saradika-graphics

TW: sexual acts, kinks, parental issues, mention of mental hospitals, porn.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated but not required 🌸🌼🌸

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Really cuddly and clingy but quiet. He’ll pepper you with kisses and praise, but he’s the one who needs more attention afterwards.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

We all know Agnus is a breast man. You will need to snap your fingers a few times before his eyes can tear away from looking down your shirt. Pervert.

He also LOVES biting them and marking you up.

His favorite part of himself is his legs. He takes a lot of pride of being tall and take any opportunity he can to show them off. Hence the James Bond trunks.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He has a paralyzing fear of parenthood but he LOVES cumming inside you unprotected. Especially if he can watch it drip out of you before he eats you out. He wouldn’t mind painting your tits with his cum either. He’ll take a pic of you like that too and ruin it later.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He steals your underwear and uses it to jerk off. He’s also into roleplay but he hasn’t found the right time to bring it up.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

His only previous experience comes from porno mags. Maybe he had a partner or two in college, but I doubt it got anywhere emotionally. Regardless, you’re his first MAJOR relationship either as FWB or serious partners.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Mating press. Pretzel dip. The butterfly. As long as he can stare into your eyes and have your legs in his hands, he will be a happy man. Also you against the wall, him in his knees so he can give you oral and try to make your legs shake.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Half his dirty talk is him being sarcastic shit. Other times he has to keep himself from laughing at your cum drunk expressions because he’s proud he did that to you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

This is the 70s so he’s trying to grow chest hair and a bush. However, he’s very particular and he trims himself.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Once he’s in love, he will make sure you know. However, he’s still Agnus so he might be a little shit about it. He’ll whisper sweet nothings while pounding you or while he teases you. Nonetheless, he’s his most romantic during aftercare.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

As much as he tries to deny it, he loves jacking off. The dorms make it hard for him to do it as much as he wants but as soon as he’s whipping it out. He’s quick too, to the point he was worried he wouldn’t be able to control himself when he fucks you. Thankfully that’s not an issue.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Taking pics of you as we’ve established. Role-play as well. Due to his many boarding schools, he’s developed an appreciation for uniforms. He’s also warming up to having a minor religious kink. The two of you definitely role played as James Bond and a damsel before though.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s got an exhibitionist kink in him so the woods and library are the most fun for him. One time the two of you fucked at an open air concert. But he loves fucking in his room so the two of you can nap and cuddle after.

He hates the beach though. He took you on a family vacation once and sand got everywhere when the two of you fucked.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Thank god for the sexual revolution and its hatred for bras. Low cut tops and kindness. That’s what attracts him to you. Also when you wear a low cut top and beat him at pinball, that’s when he is all over you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Restraining him (ropes, handcuffs, etc.) reminds him of his father so that’s a no-go. Maybe he’ll warm up to the idea of restraining you but not for a long time. Nurse roleplay he’s on the fence about because he could jack off to the idea or a pic of a sexy nurse but he could not get turned on irl for similar reasons. Also not fond of daddy kinks but would be open to a mommy kink. He’s not gonna talk to a therapist about it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves eating you out. And then you introduce him to rimming and he is excited about tasting more of you. He doesn’t even need to touch himself, he will rut against the bed while eating you out. He loves your blowjobs as well but he keeps his hands to himself, pulling his sheets and clawing the walls.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He actually prefers slow and sensual (though no less kinky). Why shouldn’t he take his time with you? Even if it’s a quickie his mouth is everywhere on you, drawing it out as much as possible.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

While he loves taking his time, he has an appreciation for quickies as well given the lack of privacy he’s always had. If you fucked before dating, it would’ve been mostly quickies but now that you’re together, it’s longer. He’s more willing to have a quickie when it’s a stressful time for the both of you (family trouble, finals week, traffic jam, etc.).

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

The great part about the 70s is the sexual revolution. He would be down to experiment with almost anything. Repression is known for creating super kinky people after all. Both of you keep notes about each place and position you’ve fucked, well well as a running list of what kinks you would try again.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

When you first get together, he doesn’t last very long but after a quick break, he’s ready to go again.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Thanks to the sexual revolution (and his wallet), the two of you have more than enough toys. Unfortunately Google tells me sex toys were scary looking during this time so the once the excitement of sex toy shopping wears off, you really only stick to the vibrators. Maybe once nipple clamps are more popular, he’ll have you wear them as well. Your favorite toy to share is the famous hitachi massager.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves teasing you soooo much. He’s such an asshole about it too, teasing you anywhere from a car ride to the library to bed. He enjoys someone he can banter with too so he will take anything you’ve said to him and throw it back in your face later. Absolute menace.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s chatty at first (he LOVES dirty talk) but when he really gets into it, he will just be panting, all words lost. When he finishes, it’ll be a low moan in your ear.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He’s a biter and will mark the hell out of you. Especially your thighs and breasts and ass. Also he had, at one point, made a sex playlist but stopped using it when he couldn’t hear you over the music.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Long but not girthy. Curved. Cut. Grower, not a shower. A nice little happy trail as well.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty high. The poor guy is so touch starved, he can’t keep his hands off you. Even if he’s not horny, he acts like it and is always touching you, just so he can tease you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He needs to hold onto you before he falls asleep. He’s secretly romantic and likes to match your breathing and circle his thumb in your skin. When it’s a quickie though? He turns into the energizer bunny and won’t burn out until hours later.

[underhousearrestblog]

Lost In Translation | Pedro Pascal

(summary) a drunk confession makes things weird between you and Pedro

(warnings) an age gap (oh the horror)

(pairings) Pedro Pascal x reader

(genre/ tropes) angst, lemon-y fluff, miscommunication, mutual pining, friends to lovers

(word count) 7.7k

(also) Pedro’s point of view (of sorts) is in Italics

(also) minors, scram (I’m kidding. Kinda. I was reading these types of things when I was twelve. I’m not the one to advise anything. Just, please, don’t interact. Better for my conscience and your digital footprint.)

(also) damn – I’m actually doing something here now... a step up from my usual one-post-per-six-months activity...

HAPPY READING!

Things around you blurred, people’s faces were distorted and music was giving you a headache. You lost count how many drinks you had about an hour ago and now you were regretting having any.

Your friends – who were more work acquaintances than friends – had ditched you, you had no car that you wouldn’t be able to operate in this condition anyway and not enough money to call a cab. All you had were a very revealing dress with a deep cut up your right thigh and a phone with around twenty percent charge left.

You stepped outside. Evening air did some but still not enough good for you to feel confident enough to walk those two and a half kilometers to your apartment building. Especially not in these knee-high boots. You would probably end up murdered. Or murdering yourself by accidentally stepping in front of a car. Either way, in a ditch.

You checked over you contacts for anyone who would pick up a phone and pick you up at the club at this ungodly hour. Since you had moved, most of your contacts were pretty much useless for this type of shit.

You pulled out your wallet. There were several business cards that you had gotten since you had started to work as a PR manager for The Last Of Us production team. Your eyes scanned over some of the names. Nico Parker. You weren’t sure she even got her license yet. Bella Ramsey. You knew for a fact she didn’t have a car.

Pedro Pascal.

Shit.

Well, from a purely objective stance, he was the best choice. He could pick you up and he didn’t give creepy vibes so technically you should be fine.

The problem was – he probably didn’t even know who you were. You had been on, like, two lunches with him with purely professional intentions. There had been more people from both the cast and the PR team and, even though you had spoken to him one-on-one multiple times, he had these types of conversations every day.

Worst he could do was say no.

To be fair, he could theoretically also cuss you out.

Or look at an unknown number and not even pick up.

Before you let your mind talk itself out of it, your fingers typed in his number and called.

It was quite chilly, now that you were out in dark alley with only your stripper dress on. It was pretty but god was it doing a shit job at keeping you warm.

The phone was calling and after the very first ring, you started to doubt yourself.

Maybe it would be less embarrassing if you just called your boss? Sure, she would know you indulged in an occasional living of your life but she was a woman and maybe would be more sympathetic than most of the men you worked with...

Two-

- Y/N? – unprepared for Pedro to actually pick up, you startled.

Your brain was foggy from all the alcohol and your body was still trying to decipher the sudden temperature drop so it took you several seconds to even put words together.

- Hey, are you alright? – it was actually him.

He really picked up at a quarter to midnight.

How did he know who was calling?

- Hey, Pedro, - up until this point you had used the formal “Mr. Pascal” just like everybody in your team but now it would feel weird. – So I have a bit of a... situation?

What was the term for getting drunk and placing all your trust in people that you had met two weeks ago?

- Are you alright? – he sounded worried. – Where are you?

Not wanting to appear nervous yourself, you tried to put on a smile, hoping it would make your voice sound lighter and careless.

- I’m at the... – you looked over your shoulder at the sign in front of the club, - Sensual Vibes, - you cringed at the name.

He definitely thinks you’re at a strip club.

- It’s a bar downtown. And I’m kinda drunk and I don’t really have any money, and my asshole friends left, and I’m also kinda col-

- Do you need me to pick you up? – he didn’t sound mad.

If anything – he sounded almost careful. As if he didn’t want to push any boundaries by insisting.

You were silent for a second.

Why was it so hard for you to ask for help when it was clear you desperately needed it?

Fucking pride.

You can cringe in shame tomorrow when you haven’t been murdered trying to walk home drunk...

- Yeah, - you said quietly before adding, - but it’s totally fine if you can’t. I’m sure two kilometers of walking will be fine if I can get off these stripper shoes-

- I’ll be there in twenty, - he said in a voice that left no arguments. – Go back inside. I’ll come in and get you.

- Who was that? – Oscar asked, stuffing the leftover pizza back into the box.

- Y/N, - Pedro put away his phone and went to get his car keys.

- Y/N? Who the fuc-

His hand stopped halfway to close the lid.

- Oh shit, - Oscar laughed, turning towards his friend. – Is that the girl from the PR team? It’s that Y/N?

Pedro didn’t answer and went to get his jacket. Oscar, in true friend fashion, followed him into the hallway, while teasing:

- Is that the same girl who still calls you Mr. Pascal even though you corrected her, like, thousand times?

Pedro just rolled his eyes.

This wasn’t exactly new. Oscar had never really met you – at least, in person – though there was abundance of information regarding you given by his friend every time Pedro had a drop of alcohol in his system.

- You know, if you weren’t so famous, I’d think she actually didn’t even know your first name by how much she uses the surname... – Oscar went back to pick up the leftover pizza, before turning back and looking at his friend suspiciously. – Are you sure she meant to call you? I mean, if she called you by your name, the call might have been meant for another Pedro. All I’m saying is-

Pedro threw him a dark look and turned to leave. Could that be true? You never really called him by his name and he was almost one hundred percent sure you didn’t even have his number...

- Lock up before you leave, - Pedro murmured before opening the door.

You were drunk and alone so, either way, you’ll have to make peace with it.

Once Pedro had ended the call, all you could do was blankly stare at the screen. To be fair, you were very intoxicated so... could you had hallucinated this whole conversation?

Either way – waiting inside was probably the best choice here...

You dropped down on a sofa in the foyer. You felt a headache coming on.

God, this is gonna be embarrassing...

After fifteen minutes of waiting and contemplating about leaving on your own, a hand lightly touched your shoulder, making you startle yet again. You had been way too focused on a painting on the wall to notice anybody approaching.

- Pedro? – your eyebrows shot up as if you were surprised that the person who you had called had actually shown up.

- Were you waiting for someone else? – there was a note in his voice you couldn’t quite decipher and your foggy mind refused to cooperate.

- N-no, - you stammered out. – I just wasn’t sure you would actually show up...

Now was his turn to look surprised. He opened his mouth to say something but, when you lightly swayed on your feet, he quickly put an arm around your shoulders to steady you.

When he lightly pressed his palm on the skin between your shoulder blades, a small shiver ran through your body, making you look up at him. He had probably seen or feel you shiver and had interpreted that as you being cold which was technically true. He pulled off his jacket that looked way too big for you.

You were by no means model-thin but the jacket was oversized on him so it looked like it would end up around your knees.

You shook your head.

- I’m not taking your jacket after you drove all this w-

- Don’t argue, - was all he said before lifting your arm, pulling the sleeve over it and then repeating the same on the other side. – And it’s still longer than that pretty thing you call a dress, - his eyes ran over your half-naked body.

Not in a leering way. But he did gulp when his eyes touched on the slit across your thigh.

Great, there’s no getting this out of memory, he chastised himself for enjoying and savoring you while you were very clearly drunk.

Shit, he’s probably uncomfortable, was all you could think about.

His car was pleasantly warm. You managed to climb in on your own but when it came to the seatbelt, you fingers still lacked focus and were stiff. After two unsuccessful attempts at connecting the two parts, Pedro gently peeled your fingers from the belt, reached over and buckled you in himself.

Before he could step back, you placed your hand on his bicep to stop him. The touch itself was innocent enough but you felt your skin lightly tingling as if you had touched a wire with low charge.

Pedro’s eyes followed you to where your skin had touched his. All he could do was stare at your fingers around his arm.

- Shit, sorry, - you decided he was probably uncomfortable and withdrew your hand, - sorry, I didn’t mean-

- It’s fine-

- I just wanted to say thank you, - your gaze held his. – I don’t know what I would’ve done otherwise.

There was something intoxicating in doing favors for you. He would’ve driven to pick up any of the women he knew if they were drunk and alone but your trust in him made him a bit delirious.

He wanted you to call him if you ever needed to get home drunk but he also wanted to drive you to a meaningless appointment and pick you up after work.

- It’s fine, - he swallowed before stepping back. – You’re welcome.

He could hear Oscar’s teasing voice in his head, telling him how absurdly romantic it was for him to simp after a girl who probably read his number off a business card when hers had been cataloged in his phone since day one. He probably could recall it from memory at this point.

Pedro closed the door on your side and walked around to get into the driver’s seat. He tried to take in some of the chilling evening air before getting in.

- ... and my friend said just go up to him and ask him out, - he heard you say once he got in, - but every time I looked at his pretty face I chicked out... – you hiccuped, - chic... chickened out! And then-

Your words were slurred and half-coherent.

Pedro started the car, pulled out of the parking lot and then threw a glance at you.

- Who were you trying to ask out?

- I wasn’t trying... And he wouldn’t come anyway...

Alcohol had made you braver and in a stupid attempt to rip your own band-aid off, you turned towards Pedro and whispered in an almost broken voice:

- Would you go on a date with me?

You needed his answer. Tomorrow was gonna be shameful but you could, at least, write this off as a drunken mistake. You had finally done it, you had finally gathered all your courage and taken a step-

But it was the way you had said it. With the accent on the word ‘you’. All Pedro heard was your confession about liking another man and how busy he was, and now you looked at him with glossy eyes and it made him wonder if this stupid man you were talking about had said something to make you insecure. You had just confessed about your crush and needed confirmation that other men – smarter men – would still date you.

But knowing that you trusted him enough to take you home drunk, he knew he couldn’t just confess about wanting you for himself. That was a dick move used by every false male friend around the world.

- I... – you watched his throat work, as he was putting words together, then he ripped his gaze away from where you sat in his car, in his jacket, for the first time ever giving him your undivided attention. – I think you’re amazing and any man would be lu-

Your eyes burned with unshed tears. His figure got distorted through the rapidly increasing moisture.

You are amazing.

Any man would be lucky to date you.

Not me though.

Last one wasn’t said out loud but, in your defense, it was usually never spelled out when a person was rejecting someone.

This was a rejection speech.

He was giving you a rejection speech!

You lifted your hand to silence him. He immediately did and you looked out through the window on your side.

- Please, don’t, - your voice broke at the end. – I respect you way too much and don’t want to start saying things I don’t mean while drunk.

It was said and done.

You had asked and he had rejected you. Work’s gonna be a bitch but PR, thankfully, was a team effort so you could probably take meetings with another member of the cast and make one of your colleague meet with Pedro. Eventually, your stupid little feelings would stop hurting and you would move on.

Eventually.

Until then you probably should avoid Pedro every chance you got.

It was said and done.

Even drunk, you had realized his incurable crush on you and in a very “I’m well-versed in public relations” manner had put an end to his confession. What was it that you had said? I respect you way too much...

Respect you way too much to outright say “no”.

You had a crush on a man you worked with. Probably someone your age. Probably someone who’s life wasn’t constantly dissected on every media platform.

You were a real pretty girl so even if you never gathered the courage to take the first step, that man you talked about would probably do it for you. He would be stupid not to.

Which meant that at some point you would be seen on set, laughing and kissing some other man who probably had no idea for how long you had lusted after him. And Pedro knew that if your crush forgot what he’s got, he would be way too tempted to teach him a lesson or two about not throwing away life’s biggest treasures.

Maybe even way too tempted to put the fear of god into that man. To threaten to never dare to break your pretty little heart.

But you had good taste in most things. And the man you were talking about asking out was probably good. More than good. He probably was respectful in public and would make you scream his name in private. Buy you a nice dress and later rip it off your body. Pick you up to take you places and then wait patiently for you to come back to him.

You deserved the best. And you were probably way too good for that boy you liked. Granted, Pedro thought you were way too good for basically everyone, including himself, but he also wasn’t one of those men that would pass on an amazing woman all because “she’s too good for him”.

Nah. He knew he would greedily accept your love and lust if only you offered. He might have thought you were too good for him but he also knew there were many things he could provide for you. He was successful, had money, a stable job, he was mature and wouldn’t play any games. Besides, he was damn near sure he loved you and even with you reciprocating just half of that love and affection, it still would be perfect.

- What’s your add-

Once he looked over to where you were watching him just a minute ago, Pedro found you fast asleep with your head pressed against the window. His jacket, way too big for you, had fallen down your shoulder, revealing that distractingly little napkin you bravely called a dress.

Shit.

This was definitely not good.

If he had to bring you back to his home, he knew he would see ghosts of you every time he stepped inside his own house. And that would be bad. Right now you were already everywhere at work, he couldn’t afford to let you make yourself at home in his private space too. Damage would take months to undo.

He contemplated waking you up but even then there would be no guarantee that you would even remember where you lived in this condition.

Pedro started driving towards his own home slower than necessary, hoping you would wake up at some point and give him your address.

All he could hope for was that Oscar had already left because, otherwise, Pedro would never hear the end of this...

Shitshitshit.

Your head was hurting even before you opened your eyes. That was never a good thing. Once you did, you were met with a semi-dark room that was vaguely lit by a small lamp left on on the nightstand.

Where the fuck where you?

This looked way too homey to be a hotel and way too impersonal to be someone’s bedroom. You lifted the thick blanket that was draped over you to check out if you weren’t missing any clothes. Or some more important things, like body parts.

Your eyebrows shot up in confusion when you were met with the same light blue dress you had worn at the club with just more wrinkles in it now. All you were missing where the boots that you saw placed by the bed.

You checked the small alarm clock on the nightstand.

5:06 AM.

It was early.

On a day off, you probably wouldn’t have woken up this early but your body had most likely dealt with the alcohol in your system and had woken up naturally once you had sobered up.

Then you noticed the small note placed next to the clock.

I’m not sure how much you remember but I picked you up from a club. You didn’t give me an address before passing out, so I brought you home with me. You’re in my guest bedroom. I’m in the one down the hall. I got you some aspirin and water. And some clothes.

Pedro.

There was something else written on the paper but it was scribbled out. You lifted the note and placed it before the small lamp, letting the light shine through.

Cute dress.

You smiled, however that smile lasted for exactly one second before you remembered the conversation in the car. You had asked Pedro on a date. He had given you the “there’s more fish in the sea” speech.

God.

You had excused your bravery with “you can live today and be embarrassed tomorrow” but now, when tomorrow was finally here, you weren’t sure it was actually worth it.

Thank god you didn’t work closely with Pedro because this would be ten times more awkward if you were an actress.

You quickly changed into the clothes Pedro had left for you. It was a white t-shirt with something spelled in a foreign language you didn’t understand. The shirt reached down to your knees and covered more than your dress had. You could technically leave in just the t-shirt but your sudden sobriety would probably result in you freezing to death so you decided to wear sweatpants as well. You rolled up the ends of the pants that were too long, threw a glance in the mirror and decided that you looked presentable enough.

Once you left the guest room with the dress still in your hand, you tried to find out if Pedro had already woken up. It seemed unlikely. It was very early.

And that seemed to be the truth, as none of the lights were on in neither the kitchen nor the living room. Or in the hallway.

Thank god the key was still in the door and you didn’t have to wake him up to unlock the door. You carefully tiptoed through the hallway and sneaked out through the front door, leaving nothing but a vague scent of your perfume and a note on the living room table.

Thank you. Truly. You have no idea how grateful I am. Don’t hesitate to contact me if you ever need anything.

That’s exactly how Pedro found your note three hours later when he woke up. Note had no name. Apparently, you didn’t assume he rescued women every night and didn’t think he would mix you up with someone else.

As if he ever could.

He was quite grateful to have missed you, in case you remembered how he had come onto you in the car. He didn’t want a pitying glance and you saying sorry, as if you had anything to be sorry about.

Don’t hesitate to contact me if you ever need anything.

Pedro let out a bitter laugh. That’s what you sign at the bottom of a work email, in hopes the recipient never truly reaches out for anything. You just felt like you owed him.

three weeks later

Pedro felt somebody brush a makeup brush over his temple to add some last touches before the filming started. People were running around, adding and taking down some props. Camera crew were doing some last check-ups. And in what Pedro thought was a torturosly ironic touch to an already important scene that caused some nerves to resurface, you were there.

In fairness, you weren’t here on your own and by your own wish. Some people of the PR and social media management teams were here, hoping to take some photos of behind the scenes for marketing.

And they were all pretty irrelevant because his eyes didn’t leave you for one second.

Pedro, Bella and some of the others were placed good ten meters from where you were standing by the door of the room that seemed to shrink every second. You were either unaware of his intense gaze or simply ignored it.

Pedro didn’t know which one would piss him off more.

There weren’t many things that didn’t irritate him these days. Oscar had started to call it Y/N withdrawal. As if he was an addict. A junkie who’s been cut off from his favorite drug of choice.

At first, Pedro was understanding. You probably felt weird you had clocked him liking you and wanted space. Fine. He would be an asshole not to give you space. Then he called you but the call always went to voicemail. On week two he had the first PR dinner since ‘the incident’ and when you didn’t show and had sent one of your assistants in your place, it only soured Pedro’s mood. The assistant had lied about you not feeling well but when you were still nowhere to be seen on the next meeting – and the next – he knew it was an excuse.

You were making excuses.

Week three took the crown when at one of the advertisement meetings that was mandatory for all cast and production team members, you had apparently ‘had a doctor’s appointment’.

Now he was pissed at the whole world and especially himself for fucking this up. You were a smart girl and he should’ve expected you to put two and two together that night. And, in addition, he was just a tiny bit pissed at you for not giving him a chance to apologize.

When you excused yourself and went into the kitchen, Pedro quickly stood up.

- Sorry, - he murmured to the makeup artist. – I’ll be right back.

Filming was set to start in ten minutes.

That was all he needed to say the things that needed to be said.

You were facing the open fridge when Pedro walked in. You read something that was written on the side of what looked like a protein shake.

You looked good. There were no signs of tiredness in your eyes. No sluggish movements. No yawning.

That was good, Pedro tried to tell himself.

Would it hurt for you to be a little affected that he was absent from your life for three whole weeks?

Then his eyes caught a thin bracelet around your wrist. It was shiny and had a minimalistic heart charm on it.

Pedro recalled Oscar once mentioning getting something similar to his wife because “the only time women wear heart jewelry is if it’s gifted by a man who’s interested”.

It was quite a big assumption that the bracelet was, one, a gift, two, from a man, and three, that it was the same moron you wanted to date. And yet it only fueled Pedro’s irrational jealousy and anger.

He let go of the door and it fell shut with a loud bang.

You jumped.

- It’s really unprofessional, you know, - Pedro accused. – This behavior of yours lately.

It only took a second for you to go from a startled look to a glare. You put the drink back in the fridge and shut the door. Loudly.

How matching.

- Excuse you? – you pushed back.

- I get that you’re avoiding me and that’s fine but you also have a job to do, - he regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. – You’ve missed several PR meetings and allowed your underage intern to replace you.

You chuckled under your breath and looked away.

So that’s what this was about...

- So you feel a bit neglected because an intern – highly skilled, might I add, - was attending a few of the meetings? Is he not good enough for you?

Pedro looked at you as if you’d grown a second head.

- I don’t care if he’s as useless as a toddler – don’t change the subject!

You blew away a strand of your hair that had fallen in front of your face.

God you looked hot angry.

When you tried to side-step him and leave, Pedro followed your movements until his back hit the door, leaving you without an escape. He leaned against it, wrapped his right palm around his left wrist and looked down at you.

- You’re avoiding me, - he was glaring at you.

You glared back.

- No shit.

Pedro had expected more resistance. Or more excuses. He definitely expected you to look at him with a confused stare and say ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’. Now that you had done none of that, it felt a bit weird to “confront” you because you had had every right to avoid him.

- I’m just making sure you don’t get a write-up for skipping work, - even though the words were genuine, the tone was rude and you recoiled.

You looked up at him as if he’d slapped you.

- Are you threatening to snitch on me for skipping few meetings?

His eyes widened.

Shit.

- That’s not wh-

- Fuck you.

Now he looked like you had slapped him.

This was going downhill and fast. He had never accused anybody of bad work ethics and you had never cursed at someone for essentially doing nothing wrong, really.

You had spent three weeks, trying to soothe your ego. But rejection still stung. And, for the first time in your life, your personal feelings had affected your professional life. There was no excuse for that.

So you exhaled, counted to ten, got to five and decided to push your emotions down. You didn’t actually believe that Pedro would ever attempt anything to harm your career but he was still a big star and, would somebody come across this very unprofessional conversation, your future job opportunities might be in jeopardy.

- Listen, I’m sorry, okay? – you said, then quickly added. – For missing those meetings.

You didn’t want to voice that you were also apologizing for taking rejection badly.

Even though, you were.

- Won’t happen again.

His eyes softened.

- I’m sorry too, okay? – he lifted his hand to place it on your shoulder or upper arm but decided against it in the last second and let it fall back against his side.

You laughed. Genuinely.

- What are you sorry for?

- For what I said in the car, - he explained.

Your eyes returned to the startled expression that they were in when he first came in. You had wanted to avoid that night but he had brought it up voluntarily. He could see your prey-like expression and shook his head:

- I didn’t mean... – he got quiet for a second. – That would be a lie. I did mean it. But I think I could’ve worded it better. Maybe. Or explained it to you when you were sober...

I didn’t mean... That would be a lie. I did mean it.

His words, even though soft and placating, still grazed your heart like a knife.

You could respect him for not leading you on.

Leading someone on was still worse than letting somebody down gently.

Be a big girl and accept defeat like a champ, you motivated yourself.

- That’s fine. It didn’t mean anything.

It didn’t mean anything.

You had realized he liked you, damn near loved you, and it didn’t mean anything.

His love meant nothing.

Pedro swallowed and nodded. When you gestured towards the door that he was still blocking, he stepped aside, letting you leave.

- Did you feel harassed by me? – he asked before you left.

You laughed. But when you realized he was dead-ass serious, your smile fell.

- What?

- In my car. That night. Did you feel harassed by me?

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Even though it was absurd for him to ask this, you felt warmth engulf your heart.

He’s making sure you didn’t feel unsafe with him...

God.

He’s gonna make a great partner to someone someday...

- God no, - you grinned, trying to put him at ease.

- You sure? – he asked.

- Of course, - you gave him a bittersweet smile. – How could I have felt harassed? Nothing happened.

Nothing happened, as in, I asked you out and you turned me down, simple as that.

Nothing happened, as in, you figured I liked you and that realization meant nothing, I still mean nothing to you.

When week four rolled in, things had went back to normal. The weird kind of normal. The professional kind of normal. You were present in all PR meetings you needed to attend, Pedro went out of his way to treat you like a friend.

He had started bringing these weird mini cupcakes from around where he was living. Every meeting, he would show up and give them out to all, usually five or six, attending persons. He would never skip you, giving you exactly the same amount of pleasantries, sweets and eye contact as to every other person from the cast and PR teams. It was as if he had timed your interactions to make sure you felt identical to everybody else here.

You translated his actions as he’s making sure to drive home the point of “I treat everybody like this, don’t make this weird, you’re not special in that sense”.

He translated his actions as making sure you saw that even after you rejected him, he still wouldn’t be passive-aggressive towards you and wouldn’t exclude you from anything.

“Don’t make things weird” had become a motto for both of you, at this point. This was exactly why Pedro had advised Oscar to also invite you to the party he was throwing in honor of ending the shooting of one of Oscar’s movies. Even though Pedro knew you would show up all dolled up and, most likely, with a plus one, as suggested the invitation.

And “don’t make things weird” was exactly why you had accepted, even though the last time you had attended a formal function, it had ended with you at a club and with no ride or money.

You had showed up in a black sleeveless dress that reached your knees. Pedro had had exactly one drink and he was using the hell out of it as an excuse why he couldn’t – and wouldn’t – take his eyes off you. The dress was simple and maybe exactly because of that your own beauty shone through more than usual when there was nothing to distract people from it.

Then you turned towards the small home bar and his eyes slid over your frame, landing on the dress’ very deep slit. This time it was on the behind of your dress’ skirt.

You and the fucking slits. Making every piece of clothing look like it was designed specifically for you...

- Thank god moods are not contagious because this would be the saddest happy event ever, - Oscar’s hand landed on his friend’s shoulder, as he followed Pedro’s gaze down to where you were standing.

Pedro unintentionally moved to block you from his friend’s eyes which came as a surprise to both. It was very clear that Oscar had no negative or positive intentions regarding you so it was even more weird when Pedro felt small pang of jealousy when he saw the bottle of wine you had gifted Oscar for hosting the party.

Oscar raised his eyebrows, amused.

As if asking, really?

You, on the other hand, were doing everything to avoid Pedro that evening. He looked good. He looked so handsome even though he was one of the very few men here who had chosen to wear a sweater instead of a suit or a dress shirt. You definitely needed a distraction and given how it had ended with drinking last time you got drunk, you avoided alcohol like it was the plague, only drinking virgin cocktails.

The biggest problem with avoiding someone is that that person is living in your head rent free, in order for you to be where they are not. Which meant that before you avoid them in a room, you have to check specifically for them. The biggest support for you in this was the fact that Pedro seemed to avoid you as well, so it was quite easy to keep your distance.

- Is there a guest I’m not aware of? – Oscar humored lightly. – Or are you stalked by someone?

Only the ghost of your best friend.

You smiled, shook your head and asked a few questions about the movie to whose ending this function was dedicated to. After some time he excused himself and said to go look for his wife but before he left, Oscar casually threw out:

- I’m sorry things are weird between you and Pedro right now, - he seemed apologetic.

You wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

Pedro had clearly told him about what had happened.

It was already embarrassing enough for you to realize that Pedro had been sober that night and remembered every word your drunk self had confessed. And, to add insult to injury, the rejection still kinda stung. But he had clearly told everything to another man. And that one made you even more upset because you knew Oscar by reputation only but that reputation was quite good. So he probably felt sympathy for your little groupie act by asking out someone clearly out of your league.

You averted your eyes. How many other people knew?

- Look, he’s a grown ass man, he’ll be fine, - Oscar put his hand on your shoulder in a pacifying manner. – It’s just that this was his longest crush ever so it will take more time than usual...

Because you actively tried to block out his voice, the words didn’t register at first. And, once they did, they still didn’t make much sense.

- But it will-

- What did you just say?

Your tone was harsh and it made Oscar do a double-take.

- I... I’m not trying to pressure you into anything by what I said about being his longest crush, if that’s what you meant. I promise.

Your eyes searched his face for any signs of amusement or humor... or confusion. When you didn’t find any, you put down your drink and turned your full attention towards him.

- What did he tell you happened that night?

Oscar looked at you like you were a child asking to explain the alphabet.

- I’m not sure I should-

- He clearly told you something! – you raised your voice – not loud enough to be heard by everyone but enough to make some of the closest people turn heads.

Oscar nodded:

- All he told me was you figured out he liked you. And you don’t like him back, - Oscar used the tone he probably used with his kids. – And that’s fine. You have every r-

- What kind of fairy tale did he fed you? – your first thought was that Pedro had lied to his friend.

But why would he ever do that? What could he possibly get out of telling people you were the one who rejected him? Letting someone down wasn’t a crime and it didn’t make you a bad person.

- He rejected me! I straight up asked him out and he gave me the whole speech about there being men who would be oh so lucky to date me. And then he kept on friend-zoning me for a month just for funsies. Making sure I knew my place was with all the other people who worked for him!

When you turned to leave – and maybe give that free alcohol a shot or two – Oscar unceremoniously grabbed your upper arm and turned you back.

- That can’t be true, Y/N! You were the one drunk! Are you sure you remember everything okay?

You rolled your eyes, trying to pull your arm away.

- I was drunk, not stupid! I know rejection when I receive one!

Oscar’s grasp wasn’t hurting you or anything but it probably looked like you were fighting from afar, at this point.

- Look, Y/N, calm down, - he lowered his voice so other people wouldn’t hear a thing. – All he told me was that you had confessed liking someone you worked with, and-

- And who do you think that someone from work is, genius?

You could almost hear gears turning in Oscar’s head.

- So... When he said that you had asked if... When you were wondering if he would date you, it wasn’t because...

You waited.

- ... it wasn’t because you were insecure about nobody being interested in you?

- Why would I give a shit if other people were interested in me?

It was a good thing you were sober because it was taking a good amount of time to understand this even sober. Your eyes widened when you finally put the pieces together.

The way Pedro looked almost crushed when you had interrupted him to silence him in the car.

Please don’t. I respect you way too much and don’t want to start saying things I don’t mean while drunk.

Could he had mistaken it for rejection?

You silencing him out of respect so you didn’t have to tell him you didn’t want to date him? Did he thought that you were thinking his ego couldn’t handle being rejected by someone who was not rich or famous?

Shit.

You tried to find his pink sweater somewhere in the crowd. He couldn’t have gone home already, could he? You had relatively little knowledge of the layout of Oscar’s house so your best shot was to run into Pedro somewhere.

Your wish manifested a bit too literally, when you roughly rounded a corner and ran straight into someone.

Pedro’s fingers wrapped around your upper arm in the same manner Oscar’s hand had just mere seconds ago. Just to drive home the point of your attraction to him, a small shot of electricity shot through your arm whereas nothing even similar had happened when his friend had touched your arm.

- Careful, - he steadied you and then removed his hand.

When you looked up, you noticed that he wouldn’t meet your eyes.

You thought you had gotten over this awkwardness...

Guess not.

With music still sounding throughout the house, you looked around, grabbed the front of his sweater and pushed him into one of the many guest bedrooms here. Once you closed and locked the door, you turned towards Pedro who was looking a bit thrown out of the boat.

For one moment, nobody said anything. Then you pushed down the dress that had ridden up your thighs while you were frantically looking for him throughout the house, and stepped closer to him.

The height difference was always a turn on for you but right now it did nothing but annoy.

- Sit down, - you commanded.

He took a step back and sat down on the bed.

When he looked up at you, you realized that you probably shouldn’t have asked him to do that. Your foggy brain finally decided to give you back few of the memories missing from that night month ago.

When he had gently lowered you onto the bed and you had finally woken up just in time to see him drop down on his knees to take off your boots. Out of concern, he had looked up at you with a very similar expression as he was having right now. With his lids lowered, eyes dark and pupils dilated.

When his brows furrowed in confusion, unaware of your flashbacks, you snapped out of it.

- Why does Oscar think I rejected you in your car that night? – you demanded before you lost your courage.

Pedro looked away.

You had had a long day at work today and still most of your energy had went into dodging Pedro at every corner, trying to not even look at him, while simultaneously keeping an eye on him at all times to not accidentally get close. Your patience had worn out long before you got here.

You unceremoniously grabbed his chin and turned his head back towards you.

- Look, I’m sorry I told him, - Pedro raised his eyes to meet yours. – I needed to tell someone and you were avoiding me and refused to even look at me!

You shook your head and tried to step back before he grabbed your hand in both of his.

- I’m sorry.

- What are you even sorry for? – you ripped your hand from his. – For lying?

When all he did was stare up at your in confusion, you took a step back to keep some distance.

- Do you get pity points or something for act-

Pedro stood up and you lost any advantage you had due to height. When he advanced towards you and you still stepped back, he caught your wrist, refusing to let you leave.

- Stop running from me! – he demanded. – Talk to me!

Fine.

- Fine, - you still tugged on your arm and he still didn’t let go so at some point you had to give up on it and leave your hand in his grasp.

- Tell me why you were avoiding me for a month, - he used a painfully soft tone as if afraid you would run at the very first sign of confrontation.

You were silent for a moment, trying to find the right words to sound like a mature adult.

- I guess... – you sighed and decided to just get over it. – I was hurt that you weren’t interested in me when I asked you out that night after you picked me up. I was butt hurt and it wasn’t fair to you because you have ever-

You didn’t get to finish when he closed the small distance between you and pressed his lips against yours. You would’ve pulled back by surprise if not for Pedro’s hand cupping the back of you neck.

Your heart seemed to simultaneously skip a beat and stop altogether. After the initial shock, you slid your hand into Pedro’s hair and lightly pulled him back by it.

Amusement danced in his eyes with a light shake of his head.

- To think we could’ve done this weeks ago, - he laughed.

You felt a bit giddy inside, still not really comprehending every piece of this misunderstanding but, in your defense, it probably had been quite hard to catch any love signals that night when you were wasted.

- You want me to ask you out again? – you proposed.

- Nah, - he shook his head. -  I’ll do the honors, - he cleared his throat. – You’re going on a date with me.

You cocked your head.

- Are you asking or telling?

- I assumed you were a sure thing, drunk words being sober thoughts and all that...

This felt a bit too good to be true but you weren’t going to question it. Once you both left the guest room, with Pedro’s hand still wrapped around yours, and turned the corner to return to the party, you found Oscar leaning against the wall in the hallway with a drink in his hand and an amused look in his eyes.

- No freaky business under my roof, - he gave his friend with a stern look. – That’s like the only rule I have.

Only when his eyes found your intervened hands, he chuckled under his breath.

- Love must be hard when you’re both idiots, huh?

[dunmeshichilchuck]

For That One Guy on Tumblr part 5

Chilchuck x !fem !halffoot reader

Your first thought on waking up was to wonder what the hell you'd drunk last night to give you such a nasty hangover. 

Your second thought was "is something...breathing on me?"

You opened your eyes and stared straight into the worried gaze of an uncomfortably close and extremely blond elf.  

She sighed with apparent relief. "Oh thank goodness! You've been sleeping for hours! I thought maybe something had gone wrong with the resurrection spell and you might not wake up, it's just such an unknown area of resurrection magic as to how long someone can be dead before they're resurrected!"

You squinted, brain churning a long for a few minutes before you caught up with the fact that you had, in fact, died and been turned into a Popsicle. "Hrghhh....yeah...yeah 'm fine. Got one hell of a headache though. Why didn't you just wake me up if it's so late?"

Marcille fidgeted with her staff. "I wanted to but -" she shot a glare at the other party members. "They wouldn't let me!"

"It's not like it would make much sense to wake someone up just to make sure they still can wake up." Chilchuck grumbled. "do you want them fully recovered or not? They'll need to rest without you poking them awake every 10 minutes." 

Laois nodded. "Yeah and if something WAS going wrong you'd be able to see it right? Falin told me if resurrection magic went wrong you'd just kinda melt!" 

"You wouldn't- it's not melting! Why would you say it like that?"

You interjected before they could get going again. "Who's Falin?" 

Chilchuck glanced over at you. "Falin's his sister." He gestured at Laois. "She's the main reason we're here. We were trying to rescue and ressurect her but something...." He glanced at Marcille briefly, an odd, almost warning look on his face. "went wrong. And now the mad mage has transformed her into something else and is controlling her." He shrugged. "If we want to get Falin back we're going to need to defeat the mad mage."

Huh, that was. Interesting. 

"What...what exactly went wrong?" You asked, unsure if you actually wanted to know the answer. 

Laois opened his mouth to say something, but Chilchuck shot him a glare and jumped in. "We don't know, she'd been dead for a long time and we had to reassemble her body." He shrugged again. "Who knows with resurrection magic? Shit just goes south sometimes." 

Well that was even more interesting. With that and what you'd heard before they realized you were conscious....there was definitely some shady magical shit going down. 

You looked at Marcille dubiously. Normally you'd think some kind of black magic, but was this prim and proper cream puff of a barely adult child really capable of crimes against god? For heavens sakes she'd been so embarrassed about the bra thing even. You couldn't picture her in combat, let alone casting some kind of banned black magic. She'd probably get too anxious and not be able to go through with it, and why would she even study that? It seemed like her field was relatively narrow if she didn't know the leaving spell.

Definitely very interesting, and potentially very dangerous. If they knew what you'd heard and what you suspected this could get very dicey for you. The best course of action would be to play dumb as a rock. 

You nodded. "Oh yeah no I know, I don't know much about magic but I know ressurrection magic is one of those things that we don't know much about, right? Cause it's so new and everything. I've heard of some weeeiiiirrrddd stuff happening in other groups. People not fully resurrecting or even getting body swapped. And who knows how the mad mage is involved in that? Hell maybe he could control ANYONE resurrected in his dungeon, but he just went after your sister for some reason." 

Lies. Blatant lies too. You weren't dumb and you'd asked as many questions as you could of the mage in your old group. You could even cast some basic healing magic if it came down to it. You'd only had one mage in the party, and you were the only one not directly involved in combat every time, so it made sense for him to teach you some quick and dirty spells in case he was incapacitated. Not that you'd ever reveal that, you knew what happened to halffoots who learned magic. Resurrection magic wasn't complicated at all. No way they weren't doing shady shit. 

Laois and Marcille chimed in with agreements that sounded just a bit too relieved, but Chilchuck just shot you an indecipherable look and then turned back and said. "alright now that that's settled we need to get packed up and head out. We've wasted too much time waiting for y/n to wake up as it is." 

You clenched your jaw and firmly reminded yourself that you were already in a precarious position, and that seemed to just be the way Chilchuck talked. 

You could put up with it. You could put up with anything if it meant getting to take down the bastard that had built this dungeon. 

Tag list, ask to tag:

@night-shadowblood-writes2

@thoughtfulbelieverstrawberry

@dunmeshimeshi

@leguink 

@gh0st-spider

@reh-llik

@sy1v30n

@qardasngan

[witchinatree]

i have posted a LOT about the issues i had with season 4 of TUA but i'm going to say everything i've been thinking right here right now. i cannot get this shit out of my head.

i think a lot of it ties back to the flaws i noticed in season 3, they tried to take on too much and abandoned the previous storylines that were waiting for them (viktor's traumatic relationship with leonard, five's trauma in general, lila's parents dying because of five, DAVE, etc etc) and we were all expecting them to tie it all together in season 4

instead they just.. added more..???? jennifer and abigail were thrown in late season 3 and were just suddenly supposed to be super important to us (they were not.) the subway that takes you to other timelines (objectively cool as fuck, why is this only introduced in the last season of The Timeline Show)

and i'm still really upset that reginald is an alien because it makes no fucking sense. i always assumed he created the mystery 43 babies (why else would he seek them out and already have a plan for them) but the alien route was.. ill-fitting. i think it would've worked better if he fell in love with abigail, who was an alien and created marigold, and then his hubris and curiosity was what unleashed it into the world and doomed the timeline. "sure this mystery chemical destroyed the planet my wife is from but i'm reginald hargreeves so that won't happen to me!" [happens to him] also i wish abigail was not just used as "see! abuser not so bad! abuser have wife! he love wife :]" because. what. and then her weird complaints about reginald in episode 6 that came out of nowhere confused me. they just should've written her entirely different if they were gonna have her at all

AAALSO i hated that they regressed all of the characters back to how they were in season 1 (or worse??). luther was living in the old umbrella academy building because apparently he will never leave it?? after everything?? diego's life was different but he was still doing this weird job shit (discount batman and mail carrier are the same thing) and he was miserable with his loving wife and kids (who ARE you.). allison's husband left her again (what the hell raymond) and she was still the neglectful single mother of claire?? after EVERYTHING I KNOW I ALREADY SAID THAT BUT GOD. klaus actually had something going for him, if only his recovery wasn't made into a joke, and then he relapsed and got kidnapped and was just very.. season 1 klaus.. but with no ghost ben anymore. five.. eugh. he was not season 1 five he was just NotFive. crazy how they had a magnus archives crossover and just brought in NotThem to take five am i right guys. ben's also different because it's not the same ben from season 1 but they just made him really fucking mean. like worse than season 3 because there wasn't that underlying "please i just want to be loved" thing. crypto bro ben was funny as fuck though. and VIKTOR just fucked off by himself after working so hard to be part of the family again. glad he got to transition and become canada's #1 manslut but jesus, just abandoned everything you did to be part of the family huh.

my vision for the ending of TUA would go something like this

ending of season 3, pretty much the same but they all have their powers and reginald's head getting sliced in half did not reveal him to be some alien freak. also at some point abigail would have been introduced. i don't feel like rewriting season 3 too okay i'm cutting corners.

luther finds sloane when he goes back to where the umbrella academy building used to be, but it's now a very lovely apartment that the two of them live in together. they host all of the family gatherings for sentimental and space reasons. i think luther would explore the stripper idea but decide not to follow it because of sloane. sloane would be fine with it but luther would still get worried.

diego and lila live in the same house somewhat nearby. lila's family (they do get to be alive but lila does have to overcome the trauma of losing them while simultaneously getting them back) are their neighbors, it was the compromise they came to because diego wanted their house to be their space but lila wanted her family close. they have three kids who are each loved and names get to be in the fucking show. (looking at you mystery twin. grace and coco (?) didn't really get much attention either). they have a big backyard that the kids all play in together when they're visiting

allison and ray are still together and they have claire (maybe another kid...) they also live somewhat nearby the rest of the umbrella family because i refuse to let them separate. i don't have much to say about them other than RAY DID NOT WALK OUT ON HER.

klaus and dave live in allison and ray's neighborhood. maybe they adopted a kid? maybe they didn't? i think their family would be really cute either way. klaus is still overcoming his addiction and dave supports him through it. it's not made into a joke and actually gives klaus a lot of depth and emotional moments. also just in general dave meeting the rest of the family would be really really sweet

five gets to retire. he lives with viktor in my mind. full circle on viktor being the person who always waited for him and offered him a place to stay after he got home in season 1. five would not actually be getting a retirement pay because he has never had a real job so he's just vik's roommate now. he could have a romance plotline with a woman working at the department store down the street named delores. she looks familiar.

ben lives alone and works at a tech company? honestly i don't know what i would do with him in the pre-plot but it would not be put him in jail?? me personally. i think he would probably move further away than everyone else but stay close enough so he could visit sloane sometimes. he still feels like an outsider but doesn't know how to tell the umbrellas he wants to be their brother now

and viktor lives with sissy harlan and five (previously mentioned). his transition gets to actually be explored (PLEASE.), harlan is in therapy, and sissy is a strong working woman!! again i don't really know what to do with him pre-plot. just know he's the happiest he's ever been!!!

and just in general, a lot of this happiness from all of them comes from their powers and that they can finally be one big happy family together (whether ben likes it or not). setting up the inherent tragedy that comes with perfection

episode 1 opens by showing everything i just explained, the tragedy of getting everything you want or whatever the title was. their powers are still integral to their lives. they're either tied to their careers (luther would probably be like a wrestler or something again, diego could try police work again because i want that to be explored) or other aspects of their existence (allison still finds herself doubting how much of her life is real, klaus' relapses are always caused by his trauma surrounding ghosts, five sometimes space jumps when he wants to be alone [also i think he could feel some sort of shame/guilt because he lives with viktor and can't really contribute much without the commission. not really his fault though because of his insanely fucked timeline], ben uses the squid to carry things or grab things that are far away, and viktor plays the violin to help him remind himself that he is in control of his power now, and he won't end the world again)

the main conflict starts when ben meets a new woman named jennifer and shakes her hand when introducing himself (starting the marigold/durango reaction that builds very slowly throughout the season.) it could be romantic but i think it's just devestating. they're slowly realizing they're losing everything they worked so hard for because of something they can't control

yadda yadda yadda figuring shit out while also having conflicts in their life from the earlier seasons and it culminates in the old umbrella academy building, viktor is the only person who can remove the durango and marigold from ben and jennifer and save the world. he finally gets to be the hero, be the one to stop the end of the world instead of cause it, but he needs to take the marigold from each of the siblings in order to balance the amount of durango jennifer had (no idk why he would let the other like 30 something marigold kids keep theirs i really don't know how to fix that. why would they do this to me)

each of the siblings have to give up part of their lives, part of their identities, and it's hard for them!!! they struggle a lot to agree to do it!!! and it's also harder for them because they don't know if viktor will survive doing this. but he's the only one who can? is his life more important than the existence of everything and everyone? ultimately, they all give up their marigold, and viktor takes all of it and the durango to save everyone. it cancels itself out and stops the cleanse reaction, and i think it would kill viktor (but it doesn't have to). we see that same clip of the 'perfect world' but they get to be in it. they were never the problem. lila and diego play in the park with their kids. allison ray and claire are walking together. klaus and dave are talking on a bench. luther and sloane are carrying a large basket of food. ben and five are helping them set up the picnic. harlan is sitting in the grass with sissy next to him. each of the adults have a small violin tattoo on their wrists. their lives will never be as perfect as they were before, but they can finally just rest and move on. because it was never their fault.

also reginald dies. fuck that guy

[its-mekjt]

watching exu prime, and oh my god, I'm trying not to cackle or else I'll wake up my siblings.

● orym and opal, dorian and dariax. every dms worst nightmare.

● ash hole

● opal shouting into thin air

● new hairdos (orym gets frosted tips)

● DARIAX PRETENDING TO BE HIS EX

● nancy.

● "but as my friend said, we have other offers to field and other people to see. very important people that we've been discussing going to see for quite a while do maybe we SHOULD GO SEE THEM." dorian was STRESSING.

● 'orym shoots dorian a look that a spouse gives to a spouse'. this is where the dorym shippers were born.

● i love when people (opal) are correct but phrases it weirdly

● "for you i could take off another 150 gold" // "okay, 900 gold got it is."

● butt stab

● orym really is the only one with a braincell. mainly by process of elimination.

● 'that's all good though. 3.'

● glitter diaper

● dorian fucking with dariax saying that he's from a long of trapeze artists and jugglers is still one of the funniest things ever

● 'what's your last goddamn name opal.'

● THE CONTEST

● dariax cosplaying as dorian

● "if you were a GEM what would you be and why?" // "i'd be a peach jam."

● dorian and dariax using the cloak and wearing each others clothes as an outfit is one of my favourite bits

● ashley johnson's laugh is addictive. i love it so much.

● opal kissing dariax cause he messed with her opponent.

● "what's your favourite flower?" // "probably oleander because it has multiple purposes. they're beautiful, they smell great and you can also kill someone if you need to."

● orym being DRAGGED on stage

● "WILL THE HALFLING LOVE, OR WILL THE HALFLING DIE?" (he did die, just a few months later)

● BEST NATURAL 20 EVER

● "DARIAX- oh the jam boy."

● people hitting on dariax gives me LIFE

● "in fairness you seem to be a little confused much of the time."

● whiskey and milk

● 10 GOLD WORTH OF PIES.

● "what's a unifying quality?" // "well, we're all pretty attractive."

● "you're not where you fell asleep." // "oh! that's... a problem."

● "i heard the voice of the spider queen giving me power but you know, nothing to worry about."

● fyra rai is contemplating EVERYTHING

● combat ended because they flipped it over

● 'i rolled a natural 1.' launches dice

● night time lullabye of hot cross buns

● dorian is mothering everyone

● titty racks

● "what is a tal'dorei."

● ALCHOHOL applause

● dariax has a good ass

● mister has performance anxiety

● "don't touch me, stranger! ew!"

● ashley's impression of dariax doing a double take at real-opal while disguised as opal

● "what head, Nancy?" HORROR MOVIE SHIT.

● orym's face as he carries the head. HILARIOUS.

[alongtidesoflight]

so here's my honest thoughts on dragon age: the veilguard, after ~40 hours of playing. i finished the main quest after having finished all companion quests and major faction quests. just to clear up what content i saw, i played as an elven transmasc rook who is a member of the lords of fortune. he romanced lucanis (although after finishing the game i'm now leaning towards taash). i don't know what's happening in playthroughs that have a different race, gender identity, romance or faction going on.

full spoilers ahead, i mean it. don't read further if you want to avoid them. i don't want complaining about it in my asks.

oh and also, if you're worried because of a few negative reviews online i can comfort you by saying don't give a fuck about a certain big name youtuber who is very much tied to bethesda franchises giving this a negative review. i'll explain why.

i'm starting off with the things i liked

the game looks really pretty. i was worried it wouldn't feel like thedas anymore (with them trying to "focus on northern thedas only" i thought they'd make a clear cut in environmental design. they do and they don't. it's complicated. i'll elaborate on it when talking about the negative stuff). anyway it does. minrathous feels like kirkwall. treviso enchanted me like the winter palace did. the hossberg wetlands reminded me of the hinterlands and a couple other inquisition maps. arlathan looked like... arlathan. the crossroads were different, but familiar. overall i like the way it looks and feels. it's thedas, with a twist. it's a good one, and gives everything a solid but unique feel.

combat is top tier. if you're a hardcore dragon age player you WILL miss the tactical aspect of it for a bit, but i promise you, once you're used to the way the combat works, you will be lapping that shit up. and once you get to ability combos you'll mourn the control you used to have over your companions in battle a bit less

the MAIN quest and its story. i expected worse, way worse. and for a while the game even had me tricked (harr harr you'll get it in a second) it is Really That Much Worse. but holy shit was it good. i walked away satisfied ngl.

your choices have SOLID weight. there's consequences, good AND bad. i got minrathous blighted, ruled over by venatori, and the leader of the shadow dragons ultimately died because of my decisions. i made those at the beginning and throughout the game. he died at the end. DAVRIN died because i didn't expect what i was saying to have that much weight. i thought i was in the clear. he had hero status. well turns out, your choices can still get your companions killed even if you do everything right. i fucking love him. he shouldn't have made that sacrifice just because i told him to do everything it takes once.

the inquisitor, morrigan and dorian being there, surprisingly. there's also negatives to this though, see below.

speaking of companions dying and the inquisitor playing a bigger role: the final quest feels like me2's suicide mission. i was blown away by it and the fact that i got to see the results of all my efforts playing out in front of me.

bioware are NOT trying to redeem solas. they love him as a character yes, but i wasn't forced to see any good in him. he betrays you. he fucked my rook over twice. he fucked him over right back, for good this time (the veil wasn't torn down, i anchored it by binding him to it, he's doomed to uphold it). but solas really lives up to his name as the trickster elven god. rip to all the people who grew really attached to him over the years.

varric died. if you like him that's probably as hard reading it as it was watching it. varric died and the game lies about it until the very end. when the realisation hits, it hurts. but in the very best way.

the amount of care they put into gender expression and trans identities this time around. (i'll add onto this with negative points as well too).

rook feels very much ingrained in the world of thedas. he doesn't ask questions that expose the player to lore through dialogue as if he's stepped foot into thedas for the first time. those conversations feel very solid and good. i hope other faction players got as much joy out of this as i did.

and the things i didn't like and boy there's a lot unfortunately

the music. let's just get that out of the way holy shit. it doesn't feel like it belongs in this universe. it gets so incredibly sci-fi-y at times you'd think it's taken straight from mass effect andromeda. there's not a single song unique to veilguard that i really enjoyed. it broke my immersion, real bad. hearing a busker play the tavern songs from inquisition on a lute right after i killed some venatori with wobbly bass songs playing in the background is just odd. weird tonal shift. don't like it. it's made for people who like flashy light-weight cinema.

tevinter nights is required reading. the podcasts are required listening exercises. the game is so fast paced, especially at the start, that there's no time to introduce you to characters and how much weight their names carry in-game. i would not have known who half these people are if i hadn't skimmed over tevinter nights. i'd care even less about them than i already did. there is no time to get properly attached to them. people will act as if you're talking to a legend personified and you'll be thinking man goddamn which chapter of tevinter night were they in again and what did they do???

there's a weird mismatch with the animations. you'll have beautifully fluid ones, like emmrich casting spells. and then you'll have rook's face animating in the most unnatural manner that's sorta reminiscent of mass effect andromeda's "my face is tired" addison, when their emotions SHOULD be landing with the player rn instead.

i'm not vibing with the art style. sometimes it works. most of the time it doesn't. at points i felt like i was watching tangled.

that also brings me to some of the dialogue. same issue. i am watching frozen. i am watching tangled. someone on the writer's team really likes the adorkable trope. bellara is its victim.

for all the talk about identity, bioware sure doesn't like theirs. the grey warden armor got a redesign again and it just makes them look like a generic army. i hate it lol

in general, i don't like the armor design. the wardrobe/appearances system is fine, but it's just not helping if all the armors are just... kinda bland or downight bad looking? and don't get me started on the lords of fortune armor. that is orientalism personified.

the world states should have been carried over, full stop. i know they said they didn't because they want to separate what happens in the north from what happens in the south, which... i could have lived with that. but the inquisitor sends you letters that keep you up to date on... the south of thedas. you learn that there's a blight again, that people are standing strong but it's difficult, denerim's fallen, the rulers are taking care of it, orlais is fighting and they're successful for a while, etc etc. what's good bioware. i thought we don't care about the south this time around. why are you feeding me so much boring generic information. if you're not gonna show any of it and just write letters, then carrying the world state over should not have been an issue. i have a game dev background. those few lines of code would not have broken your budget or pushed your engine's limits. fuck right off.

this gripe of mine carries over to all the cameos. as a lord of fortune you have to deal with isabela a lot. it's fun. i missed her. you get to go drinking with her and taash and bellara! also my hawke romanced her. she's not mentioned once. they had the opportunity to put a sentence or two about her in there with not a lot of effort, trust me.

when varric dies, all she has is a single line about it. for gold, for fortune, for varric. she only says it if you interact with her on your way to the final push. that's not mandatory.

morrigan is there. kieran isn't. the old god soul that mythal and then solas absorbed? who cares at this point, the gods are dead now and solas is locked away for eternity. i suppose? why is morrigan there. she feels unneeded. i wish they'd just left her down south, at least that way i wouldn't have had to witness her god awful redesign.

dorian at least feels as if he belongs in this story. the shadow dragons are a crucial part to protecting minrathous. he's also weirdly underutilised. isabela and morrigan had more lines than him in my playthrough.

on the topic of romance: bro that was underwhelming. no, genuinely. you know when romance picked up a bit? after the point of no return. i heard maybe two lines of companion banter about it before that. maybe i missed something which i honestly doubt, but romance did not play much of a role in lucanis's storyline. i saved his grandmother as he wished me to (and if you read tevinter nights you know she was rather abusive and their relationship not the healthiest) and told him to focus on his family. a reunified family my rook wasn't even introduced to as a partner at the end of all that.

really, do not buy this game if you're only in it for the romances. others might be better, lucanis's basically gave me nothing. except for an outing (the second coffee date i had with him, it was getting repetitive) all of it played out once i committed to the final quest. the sex scene was a fade to black. annoyingly right after davrin died. if you're looking for well paced and good spice, pick up something else. the sweet talk and the final goodbye were nice though.

for all the good the ever-presence of gender identity does, it is brought up in such a disruptive manner too. it doesn't even play out naturally if you CHOOSE the lines that are meant to be said. hearing the words trans and non-binary in this setting doesn't feel right, and i'm saying this as a trans guy. i think it could have been handled more gracefully. the amount of times my rook went "i'm a MAN" as if he's about to start drumming on his chest and roaring any second now got super nerve-grating. "i'm so glad you're into me... the me who is trans. remember?" just. tell me one trans person who'd talk like that to a person they've grown close with and are trying to romance. this game doesn't handle sexuality well, so all this hey my body might not look like the way you're expecting it to look talk amounts to nothing anyway. i feel about this the way i feel about krem: this is partial exposition to trans experiences... packaged up for cis consumption. the ONLY exception to that is interacting with taash. holy shit was all of that heartwarming and bro did it feel good and natural to talk to them about theirs and rook's gender.

rivain and nevarra are new locations added by veilguard. they're also incredibly underwhelming, small and constricted maps. rivain is a coastline with a few ruins. the hall of valor is a partial ruin nestled into a cave on a beach, with a fighting pit. isabela is there in her skimpy outfit commentating your pit fights. that's it. i'm sorry if you were looking for a bustling pirate cove or whatever. you're not gonna get it. the nevarran crypts btw are a long ass dungeon crawl. that's it.

speaking of maps. i thought people were being dramatic when they said you're gonna be fighting the same enemies on them again and again. i thought they were figure of speeching it. they're not. you WILL fight the same amount of enemies. in the same spot. every time you reload the map. best to stay on a map and clear out the enemies and do as much questing on that map as you can before leaving, because you WILL have to do it all over again once you return.

the three choices i made for my inquisitor didn't matter lol she didn't have to face solas and therefore couldn't stop him at any cost as she had sworn (maybe because my rook tricked solas into binding himself to the veil, there was also an option to fight him. would she have stepped in? who knows). blackwall wasn't mentioned. and either her using a small amount of her forces in the final fight was the reason the civilians of minrathous fared so well..... or it just didn't matter. ultimately i think she had very little impact on anything

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

❤️🌸

The reader gets jealous, maybe when some old flame of Eddie's come around and she's gorgeous and they share a laugh and she gets insecure that maybe he misses that old life and she starts to withdraw and avoid him to "ease the pain when it comes" but Eddie reassures her when he finally understand what's going on and also tells her that he was scared as hell that she was planning to leave him and THAT has never happened before? And then he's going to 'punish' her for scaring him the crap out of him ^^ Fluffy, a little angsty and smutty

A part two of sorts to For The First Time

Request by @somethingvicked

❤️❤️

Warnings; Angst, Jealous Reader, fluff. Smut (spanking) 18+ minors go away.

I don't give anyone permission to copy my work.

💕🌸

You were not jealous, not at all... Okay, that was a huge lie because you were very jealous right now of the pretty ex of Eddie's you met while the two of you were hanging out at a bar.

She was gorgeous and lovely and watching Eddie share a laugh with her at something he said makes her burn with envy.

Her name was Bella- she even had a pretty name and a pretty fucking laugh and was around the same age as Eddie.

So gorgeous and older and sophisticated, it made you feel inadequate.

It was ridiculous for you to be so jealous but you were, Eddie had proudly introduced you as his girl but you still couldn't help it as your mind raced with anxiety.

You loved Eddie so much and he loved you, god he told you constantly but the thing about anxiety is that one thought could play in your head all day and that's what was happening right now.

Even though she had a very lovely boyfriend herself it didn't ease your mind, it took time for you to de-stress when you got really anxious or worked up about something.

Eddie smiles as he slips his arm around your waist, kisses your forehead and bades goodbye to Bella and Derek.

The knot of tension you felt while watching them together tightens even more as you worry that Eddie may miss his old life, flitting from one fling to the next without a care in the world.

What if he missed no strings attachments and his fuckboi days? The thought turns your stomach to ice.

"Want to head back to mine sweetheart?" he asks and you frown still feeling out of sorts.

"I don't feel very good. Can you take me home?"his face falls.

"Oh, yeah right" you kiss his cheek and get into his van your stomach still churning.

❤️❤️

Come morning the feeling doesn't fade away, in fact it's worse and even though you go to work and try to take your mind of it there's still the tight feeling and a brutal headache to go with it.

The pain of losing Eddie would be immense and you were desperate to protect your heart incase of it happening.

But even as you distance yourself a bit just to clear your head for the next couple of days you miss Eddie so much.

You want to talk to him but you're unsure what to say.

Just when you're about to head out to see him after having enough of shutting yourself away your door opens and he comes in.

He doesn't look happy, his big brown eyes are full of worry and he walks up to you.

"Sweetheart? Are you okay. I haven't seen you in two days, I've been worrying like shit"

He paces back and forward.

" Why have you been so weird all of a sudden. Are, are you leaving me?" his eyes fill with agony and you rush to him.

"What? No! no I'm not leaving you" the tenseness in his body melts away but only a little bit.

"You've been distant since Thursday, I'm sitting here worried as shit that you're going to leave me, I've never worried about that before because I've never gave a shit until I met you and the thought of you leaving me rips my heart apart"

Teary you cup his cheek.

"I'm not leaving you. I love you so much Eddie, it's just you know on Thursday when we met Bella. I've been anxious and it's just taking me a little while to calm down"

Eddie softens

"Oh princess that's why you were off?"he finally gets it and you nod with a cute pout on your face.

"I guess, she was beautiful, older, sophisticated. I worried you missed your old life, maybe missed her" he snorts.

"Absolutely not. Bella and I lasted a total of two weeks sweetheart, it was a fling and it meant nothing, there was no attachment or feelings between us in any way. We both knew that and we ended things amicably"

You relax a little bit as he strokes your cheek.

"I just got anxious, she's so beautiful" he softens and gently kisses you.

"No one is as beautiful as you in my eyes sweetheart, no one and I don't miss my old life, it was cold and empty. I realised that when I fell in love with you. I love being with you, love the connection we have"

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you onto his lap.

"I love waking up to the most beautiful girl in the world beside me and I feel so fucking lucky, I would never trade what we have for anything, you got me for life sweetheart" his words melt your heart and you beam.

"I love you Eddie, I'm sorry I made you worry" he gets a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Oh, princess. I think I may have to punish you for worrying me sick huh?" your whole body tingles at that thought.

"Oh?" he smirks and his fingers dance up your shirt.

"Take off your clothes and get on the bed sweetheart, " you do and wonder what he has planned for tonight.

"Lie on your stomach" he orders and you immediately feel arousal pool in your lower belly.

Was he going to spank you? You had done it a few times and you thoroughly enjoyed it.

"Count to five sweetheart" his hand caresses your backside and you count to one in your head.

He lightly slaps your ass. "Out loud sweetheart" you smirk and begin to count.

One

Two

"You were very bad sweetheart. Worrying me, worrying yourself sick for no reason"

Three, "Think you might to spank me harder it isn't quite sinking in" you tease and he does.

Four

"Just one more princess" Eddie croons.

Five

The last one makes you shriek with giggles because right after Eddie gently kisses over your ass and his stubble tickles.

Eddie then pulls you into his arms and kisses your forehead and you curl into him.

"I've missed you sweetheart, next time there's any problem talk to me okay? Communication is important. You told me that" you nod and he kisses you deeply.

"Now, I would very much like to make love to my girl all night. That sound good to you angel?"

Hell yes. ,

[sports-on-sundays]

heyy girlyy, can i please request an enemies to lovers with pedri where the reader and him are notorious for fighting all the time and lowkey hating each other in school, but one day this boy and the reader get in a fight and he hits her and she comes out of a classroom crying with blood on her face and pedri sees her and asks her "who did this to you"🤭🤭 and is absolutely furious but she doesn't tell him who did it at first but then sees how mad he is so she tells him and he goes and beats the shit out of the boy who hit her, then the reader and pedri are in the nurses room together and she asks him why he did that and he confesses his feelings for her and how he was in love with her the whole time and she does the same and they kiss or something, yayy

a very detailed ask but i hope you don't mindd, anyways hope you're doing well, lot's of lovee 🫶💕

I hate you (not) / Pedri González

Summary: There is a very detailed summary in the ask haha! Pedri x female!reader. High school AU. Enemies to lovers trope ig.

Warnings: Blood, crying, censored swears

Requested?: Yes ma'am!

Author's Note: I love the detailed request girl! Thanks so much! I appreciate the support!

Pedri walks down the empty hallway slowly. He's tardy anyway, so why not just walk slow so he doesn't have to do any work when he gets to maths, right?

As he walks, he thinks. He thinks about the argument he had gotten in with you the day before. Maybe he had been a little harsh- saying that you were a terrible cheerleader and all the boys made fun of you in the locker room all the time? Yeah, that might have been kind of mean. You had flipped out, clearly hurt to hear this, yelling at Pedri and firing back at him about how he was a cocky idiot, and no one really liked him anyway- everyone was just pretending because they didn't want to hurt his feelings, but really they all gossiped about how much of an ass he was.

In truth, neither of these things were true at all. And in truth, both you and Pedri had believed what the other had said.

Then you had shoved Pedri, and he had smirked and teased you about how weak the shove was, before walking off.

Yeah, Pedri feels bad.

He's getting to class just as the bell is ringing. Students immediately start flooding out of the classroom, pushing themselves out of the door as if spending one more second in that room would suffocate them.

But then suddenly Pedri's jaw drops when you walk out of the classroom. You've got your hand over your mouth and nose, and there are tears streaming down your cheeks from your eyes, though you're clearly trying to be tough. You freeze when you meet the eyes of Pedri. Your eyes widen, and dread sets in deep within you. Oh God, no. The last thing I need right now is for Pedri to start taunting me about being a weak cryb-

Suddenly unexpected anger wells up within Pedri, and his jaw clenches. He doesn't even really know why- maybe it's because he still feels bad about what he said to you yesterday; maybe it has to do with the deep, honest feelings for you he has hidden down deep within himself. He snaps, "What the hell? Y/n, what happened? Are you okay? Who did this to you? Where's the teacher?!"

You continue to choke up, letting out only short breaths as you feel the blood trickle down the inside of your palm. You're in so much discomfort, you decide not even to worry about what kind of off motives Pedri has right now as you murmur, "The teacher was out of the room..."

As students awkwardly continue to file out of the room, Pedri asks again, "Who did this to you...?"

You glance around nervously, about to walk past him, but suddenly he grabs your arm. You look back at him in surprise. His concerned, angry brown eyes meet yours. His grasp on your arm is tough, but not enough to hurt. "Y/n... Tell me who did this to you."

"Pedri, I can't tell you..." you softly squeak, staring at his hand on your arm. "I don't want him to..." you hesitate, and let yourself trail off.

But he repeats with such seriousness, tenacity, and sincerity, "Y/n, it's alright... Just... Tell me who the hell did this..."

You swallow, and then say his name softly. It dawns on Pedri right away who the boy is, and he looks around in the thinning crowd. He spots the boy, and on impulse, so quickly so that you can't even stop him, suddenly he attacks the kid, knocking them to the ground. You stare in shock as the one minute they beat on each other feels like about one day. You're frozen as blood drips down to your chin.

"Why the hell would you hurt her? Do you see her? She's crying? Do you see how much blood there is? She's pale, you idiot! Don't you feel sorry! Say sorry! And if you tell anyone about this, you're going to be-"

You stare in awe when the boy on the ground shouts, gasping, "Okay, okay! I'm sorry! I won't tell anyone! Get off of me!"

Pedri hesitates, then slowly nods. You're leaning against the hall, slightly trembling. The moment Pedri pushes the boy away down the hall, commanding him with such fierceness to get back to class, he immediately turns to you. With no hesitation he uses the end of his shirt to wipe your blood a bit and murmurs, putting an arm around your back, "Hey... Let's go to the nurse's office. Okay?" He speaks with such gentleness and softness, you can hardly believe this is really Pedri. I didn't know he was even capable of speaking in a tone that sweet.

You walk along with him, feeling very confused. You get to the nurse's office- the whole walk you both just keep silent. Pedri explains to the nurse that you fell and cut your mouth and nose (which vaguely annoys you, because that makes it seem like instead of getting in a fight, you just fell over like a clumsy freak right on your f*cking face. But whatever.), and the nurse fixes up your mouth, covering the wound with some bandages. The whole time, Pedri stays. You watch as he slips a sweatshirt over his head that he had in his backpack- probably to cover the stain of your blood on his shirt. The nurse doesn't ask why Pedri stays, and neither do you, until you're all fixed up and walking out of the classroom alongside Pedri.

A few seconds pass by. You walk next to him, looking at the floor. The bandage above your mouth feels uncomfortable. But, you suppose, it's much better than the possible alternatives, which would be still spilling blood everywhere, or forming a huge ugly scab on your face. Pedri is also looking down, but his dark brows are knitted together, as though he's deep in thought. His hand brushes against yours as you walk, and suddenly he looks up. You look up, too. Your eyes meet his dark chocolate colored ones. He seems to hesitate. You swallow. "Pedri," you start softly. There's a question that has been in your head and bugging your heart ever since he met you outside the classroom. "Can I ask you a question?"

You watch his Adam's apple bob up, and then down again, when he swallows, before nodding. "Yeah."

"Why... Why did you do that?" you hesitate. "I thought you hated me..."

Pedri bites his lip, looking into your eyes. "I... I don't hate you. I've never hated you. The truth is, I like you. A lot. And I owe you an apology. A huge apology."

You stare in confusion and shock.

He rests his hand on your shoulder. Gives it a soft squeeze. "I'm sorry for hurting you all these times... I..." Pedri can't believe he's really doing this. All this time he's been masking his feelings, and all the sudden, now, it's all tumbling out.

He doesn't even know why. Right just seems like... the right time.

"Y/n, I've liked you for a long while now... And yeah, I mean the crush kind of like."

Pedri watches as your hand covers you mouth. "Pedri- then why..."

His jaw clenches. "Years ago when I started liking you I was too stupid to just admit it. So to mask it I was rude to you. Plus, it was fun to tease you sometimes... But I took it too far and... Yeah, here we are today, right now... I couldn't just randomly change my behavior, so I had no idea what to do. But Y/n, I really do..."

Suddenly your heart wells up, and your face heats up, and with no more thought put into it, you grab his hand tightly and squeak, "Pedri, I think I like you, too."

Now it's his turn to look shocked. "Really? Why? How? I've been so rude to you..."

I shrug. "I couldn't deny you're cute. I've always liked your personality. Sometimes I enjoyed your teasing. That's just why when we got in real arguments, it really broke me..."

He gently strokes your heating up cheek, your eyes lock. "Will you forgive me? Now that you know-"

You smile softly, enjoying the feeling of his touch on your cheek, and interrupt, "Of course I forgive you..."

His eyes shine. "This must be the best case scenario..."

You nod, and you notice his face slowly inching towards yours. You lean in, too, still eyes locked. Soon your faces are nearly touching, and Pedri whispers softly, "There's something I've been wanting to do for a while... Can..." He looks embarrassed, but you wait. "Can I kiss you?"

You swallow, hesitate, but then nod. And just like that, his head tilts, eyes close, and his soft lips gently press against yours. He cups the nape of your neck, and his other hand slips behind your back.

Suddenly you both jump though, pulling away from the lovely kiss when you hear the beginnings of the school bell.

Pedri waves, and says, "I'll meet you outside the front of school after classes!"

You stare, stunned, as you watch him walk away. You don't even care you've probably missed at least three class periods. You just gently press your fingers to the lips that Pedri just kissed, heart pounding and butterflies swarming.

My God. This is a dream come true.