#that ×××××× liked my post from 3 days ago about my new haircut and feeling good about myself lmao
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OH WHAT EXCELLENT TIMIJG. KILLS MYSELF
#reblogs two posts in a row that vaguely have to do with my current mental state . immediately gets a notif on insta#that ×××××× liked my post from 3 days ago about my new haircut and feeling good about myself lmao#“why dont you just block her” well you see last time i did that she wouldnt stop calling my phone until i unblocked her.#and what if i started eating fiberglass. what of it. she hasnt touched my ig in like 6 months WHY NOW#hey girl are u reading my tumblr posts still. i hate ur ass so mucj leave me alone leave me alone leave me alone leave me alone#<< im just being paranoid ive remade my blog like 3 times since she was kn here last#and also ive got all 3 of her urls that i know of blocked lollll#im going to fucking scream im going to bite my pinkie finger off at the knuckle#head jn hands#instant impulse is to delete that post and also my entire insta and also my entire online presence.#but i know that is not a good idea. im stronger than that#girl why are you so fucking obsessed with me still its weird. get a goddmn life godddddddd . jm going to kms#does a gay little dance. oh BOY i cant eait to have nightmares about this later
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THE LEANOVER -> OP81
Part 1 of 2. Read Part 2 here.
Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader
Summary: You come home on uni break to find your brother’s best friend, Oscar, is visiting. You both fall back into old habits, but some things are not the same.
Tags: brother’s best friend, friends to lovers, slow burn? kinda?, fluff, suggestive content (18+), very gentle reading tbh
A/N: Here it is finally, the highly requested full length version of the drabble I posted. Sadly I’ve reached my limit of dividers for this one and have to split it into two parts :( Very funny that it took off so much because it was honestly just a warm up for writing 😭 Anyway, I hope it was worth the wait, enjoy <3
“You’ve gotten soft, kiddo.”
He leans against the doorframe, that same mischievous smile on his face as he watches you do the dishes.
“Well,” you say, rinsing a cup over the running faucet, “Some of us have to.”
Oscar quirks up an eyebrow, arms folding over his chest. “Really? Fascinating. I had no idea.”
“And some things never change, I see,” you chuckle.
It’s December, and you’re home for the first time since moving away for university. It’s been an eventful year, one that’s brought about many successes, mistakes and surprises. Your mother marvels at how much you’ve grown; you’ve ditched the old frumpy haircut, started slouching less and finally found the perfect shade of lipstick. Your father is just glad you’ve managed to achieve a pretty impressive grade average.
When Oscar arrived, he caused so much commotion you had to stumble down the stairs to see what all the fuss is about. His presence was a surprise, but a welcome one. He was always your mum’s favourite—you remember the day he set off two years ago to pursue Formula One full-time. She cried as if he was her own kid. (Your brother stayed in Melbourne, so it’s dubious whether or not she would’ve cried harder if he moved away. For what it’s worth, when you went off to ANU yourself, she cried about the same amount.) Always a charmer, he came bearing big bags of gifts for everyone, and your family gathered around him like bees to honey.
He pulled your brother in for a hug. They’re too close to just settle for a dap-up after another year apart. “Looking good, mate,” your brother chuckled. “Look at this guy. Dapper, eh?”
“Says you, man, look at yourself,” Oscar laughed, throwing his head back in delight before patting him roughly on the back. “Fucking hell, you finally filled your beard in.”
From a distance, you smiled, watching as they started to roughhouse, laughing as they wrestled and wrung one another. Eventually your brother released him from his headlock, throwing him out of his grip, and Oscar ruffled his hair back into place before turning and spotting you, standing at the staircase.
He smiled at you fondly. You’d forgotten how nice it feels to be the recipient of it. He’d forgotten how he can recognise what every expression you make means.
You’ve grown a lot. Maybe not physically, but definitely mentally. He never had a problem with you before, far from it, but he likes this new you a lot—more graceful, tactful, a skilled conversationalist eager to help out whenever. Not to mention he didn’t even realise you could grow even more beautiful. Well, you’ve managed it somehow.
Now dinner is over and he’s still standing there, watching as you shut the dishwasher close. “Just can’t be fucked,” you sigh with relief. “Too many fuckin’ dishes.”
He comes closer, ruffles your hair with a hand while the other wraps around your waist, pulling you to him. The action is familiar, but the feeling that arises in you from it is not. “Well, you used to just not do them at all, so,” he reminds you. “This is a big improvement, Tiny.”
You flush. “I can’t believe you remember that.”
“I remember everything,” Oscar smiles at you. “Why would I forget anything?”
“I don’t know,” you shrug, “it’s normal to forget the little things.”
But his smile never falters. “They’re not little to me.”
“Well fuck, you’ve put me in a difficult position.”
The two boys you’ve known your whole life stand in front of you in the living room, where you’re sitting on the couch, legs sprawled over its full length, reading your book. Your brother sighs. “I just wish you’d told me beforehand, like, I know you wanted it to be a surprise but,” he continues. “If you told me you were coming, I wouldn’t have booked the trip—”
Oscar shakes his head. “Nah, don’t sweat it, come on,” he says. “It’s fine. Either way I’m back home, I can catch up with some guys from school, and your folks are lovely to me.”
Your brother starts up again, but Oscar puts his hands up. “Mate, really, it’s fine. I’ll be right on my own.”
“Say swear?”
“On my life,” he nods. “You just enjoy Bali with your missus.”
Your brother looks at him for a moment, shakes his head and smiles. He nudges him on the shoulder. “Don’t let her do anything stupid.”
“What, that little thing?” Oscar smiles, turning to look over where you sit on the couch. “She’ll be right. I got her.”
They talk for a little longer before one of them bids the other goodnight, retreating into his room. Oscar stays, looks at you for a moment as you pretend to not notice, eyes scanning over the pages of your book like your life depends on not looking back at him. He runs his fingers through his hair, lets out a breath before he comes closer.
“Looks like it’ll just be you and me this holiday season, Tiny.” No one calls you that except Oscar. He stands in front of you, towering over your sitting figure. You can’t find the bravery to look up at him, but you just know he’s smiling again.
You flip to the next page. “Where’s your family?”
“Off to the Alps,” he shrugs. “But I’ve just been last year with a few guys.”
“How convenient,” you comment, earning a chuckle from him. Oscar nods his head, smiling still, unashamed.
“Very convenient.”
“Good morning, sleepy.”
You stand in the kitchen, rubbing your eyes with the sleeves of your jumper where the counter is. He brushes past you to the coffee machine, and you feel his warmth close by for a split second. “Don’t do that,” he tuts at you, chuckling at your sleepy state. “It’s bad for your eyes.”
“Is he awake yet?” you ask, and your voice is still hushed, soft from slumber.
“No,” he says. “But I’m making coffee anyway. He’s a bit of a cunt in the morning.”
You suddenly remember that he’s sleeping on the spare mattress, very inelegantly smack dab in the middle of the floor in your brother’s room. You can’t help but snicker. “You know him too well. You’re like an old married couple,” you tease him. “Aren’t you too old to be doing sleepovers still?”
“Aren’t you too old to be reading your porny little novels on a Friday evening?” he retorts. You feel yourself flush almost immediately, the blood rushing to your cheeks as embarrassment overwhelms you, knowing you’ve been caught. Oscar glances over at you from where he stands, pouring out cold milk while the espresso shots continue to drip into his mug, and he chuckles.
“I’m right, no?” he continues. “You’re all grown up now, Tiny. My question is, why stay in? Why read about fucking a soccer player when you could just, you know, actually do it?”
You glare at him, but the sight of him this early in the morning with his soft sleepy smile and tousled bedhead hair makes you falter a little. “That’s not even a book I own.”
“I know that,” Oscar nods, holding the little pitcher to the steam wand, gently frothing the cold milk inside. “But I have seen one on your desk. Think it was about another sport, actually.”
Then the frothing stops, and he pours the milk foam into the mug slowly, carefully. He snickers. “It was about racing, wasn’t it?”
Your cheeks grow hot, hotter than you thought was possible, and your eyes drop immediately to the ground at his words. It amuses him to no end. He hands you the mug; it’s a latte, with a cute little heart on top of it. Now he’s just being cruel.
You take a sip of the searing hot coffee immediately just to avoid having to speak about this topic any further. “This tastes like shit.”
He crosses his arms over his chest and grins. “You’re welcome, love.”
“Can you even speak to me this way?”
“What way?” Oscar says, cocking up an eyebrow again. “You’re a big girl now. What, you can read about sex but you can’t talk about it—”
“Keep your voice down,” you whisper-yell, shushing him in a panicked tone, but he can barely take you seriously, chest rumbling with soft laughter.
“Alright,” he nods. “If it’ll please you, Tiny, I’ll do it.”
Then he leaves the kitchen, retreats into your brother’s room and starts yelling at him to wake up. You’re left on your own to figure out why he put so much emphasis on the word please.
“You’re leaving?”
Alright, now it’s getting fucking ridiculous. You’re sat in the back of your dad’s car after sending your brother and his girlfriend off to the airport, absolutely flabbergasted by what your parents have just said.
“You’re leaving me alone for two weeks,” you continue. “Since when? How long has this been in the works? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“God, no, it’s not like that,” your mum sighs, turning to you from where she sits in the passenger’s seat. “They invited us to their beach house in the Central Coast a month ago. We said no because we knew you were coming but, with Oscar here now… Why not?”
“We just thought it would be nice to have some time to ourselves,” your father continues, eyes still on the road. “With our friends. And you’re on break for ages! We’ll only be gone for two weeks.”
“You’re an adult now,” your mother smiles hesitantly. “And with Oscar… Well, I honestly trust him more than your own brother to take good care of you.”
Oscar is touched, but you’re less than satisfied by all this still. “I’m sorry, honey,” your mum starts again, but you shake your head.
“No, no, I get it, it’s fine,” you say, waving off her concerns. “I just wish I had a heads up, but I get it.”
Looking out the window now, you feel Oscar place a comforting hand on your shoulder, his touch soft and warm, wordlessly assuring you things will be okay. He means well, but it worsens your worries. Your stomach feels strange. Now you can’t escape how you feel.
You look out the window, waiting for the bread slices in the toaster to pop out. In the back garden, Oscar is dutifully watering the plants blooming around the wooden benches and table where your parents like to host barbecues. (It’s one of the many tasks listed in the list of chores your mum left the two of you.) He takes careful steps, acutely aware of the blossoming flowers near his feet, and slips his gloves off where the shelf with all the necessary gear is.
He calls out to you, nudging the watering can with his foot to where it should be. “Smells good in there.”
“Almost done now,” you call out back to him, turning back to the kitchen counter where two dishes are lined with omelettes and chorizo sausages. When the slices pop out, you smear smashed avocado all over one side of them. When he finally comes through the back door, you’re finishing the already-salted avocado toast off by grinding up some pepper. Oscar stands behind you, watching as you do it.
“Looks amazing, too,” he chuckles. “Or maybe I’m just real hungry.”
“I think you’re just real hungry,” you say. “What took you so long?”
He shrugs, taking both plates from the counter to the dinner table. “Your dad’s tool shelf is weird as fuck.”
You don’t question it; he’s probably right, your dad is weird as fuck in general, so you just take knives and forks to the table. “Dig in,” you tell him, placing a fork down where he’s sat. He turns his head to look up at you, smiling.
“Thank you,” he says, softly, and Oscar’s looking at you with genuine delight. You turn away. Your chest is tightening. You go to sit where he’s put the other dish, and he watches as you take a small bite of your toast.
“So,” he starts up again. “They’re all gone. It’s just the two of us. Should we throw a rager?”
You chuckle at his words, and he beams, eager to make you laugh. “Yeah,” he nods, smiling gently again. “Wasn’t feeling like it either.”
“We don’t really have to do anything today,” you say, chewing on your food. “We’ve still got a whole two weeks ahead of us.”
“That’s true,” Oscar hums. “Well…”
You look up from your plate, giving him a curious look. “Well?”
“Well,” he continues, “I just haven’t had a chance to say—well, I’ve just wanted to say… It’s nice to see you again. You’ve grown a lot. You look good. Really good.”
You must be bright brick red in the face now. “Thank you,” you mumble back, and when you both finish your food he helps you load the dishes into the dishwasher before vacuuming the living room, ticking off another thing on the list.
“Tiny, I’m sure you look amazing,” he says from the other side of the door. “Can you please come out now?”
You look at yourself in the mirror, huffing. “No.”
Oscar frowns to himself. “Well, can I at least come in?”
“No!” you exclaim, the thought of him seeing all the clothes tossed onto your bed embarrassing you too much to even consider opening the door.
“You’re not naked in there, are you—”
“Oh my god, Osc, no.”
“We’ll miss the whole thing at this point, we’re late as is,” he tries to reason with you. “Please, Tiny, I could help you.”
“Yeah, because you’re so fashionable. I can’t just throw a linen shirt and beige shorts on like you do.”
You hear him snicker from outside. “Mee-ow. Touché.”
Sighing, you come closer to your door. “Just,” you say. “Don’t be cruel, okay?”
Oscar leans his head against the door. “Of course,” he mutters quickly. “I mean, obviously. Yeah.”
With another big huff, you unlock the door, and his eyes widen at the sight of you in a dress, soft blush pink silk hugging to your curves all the way down to your ankles. The thin straps leave little to the imagination, your collarbones and shoulders exposed to the sunlight filtering through your curtains. Oscar wonders how soft your skin must be, supple arms smoothing over your waist.
“I don’t know if I feel good in this,” you say, and his eyes dart back to your face, wincing in worry. “I don’t know if I necessarily have the body—”
“You look fantastic.”
You turn around to face him. He’s standing behind you, a little flushed as his eyes rake over your figure again. “You look great, I mean,” Oscar says. “Just… bring a cardigan.”
You chuckle. “It’s the middle of summer—”
“It could get cold at night.”
There’s a bite in his voice that makes you shiver, especially as you turn back around to face your mirror and he comes closer, towering over you.
“Who knows how long we’ll be out for.”
The Christmas market stays open until late. It doesn’t get dark by the evening hours in the summer, so you never slip on the cardigan. Instead, Oscar insists on having his arm around your shoulders the entire time, leading to more than one stall owner mistaking you for a couple. The commotion makes you blush every time.
“What are you so embarrassed about?” he chuckles. The two of you meander through the paths of the market, barely taking note of any of the stalls at this point. “People used to mistake us for a couple all the time in school.”
You scoff, shaking your head. “Nuh uh,” you retort. “They thought we were siblings.”
Oscar gags. “What? Christ, no.”
“Exactly,” you chuckle. “Or they thought we were cousins.”
He looks at you, cocks his head to the side curiously. “Well, what’d you tell them?”
You shrug honestly. “I don’t know. I told them you’re my Oscar,” you say, and your answer makes him laugh softly.
“And what exactly does that mean?” He prods.
“Well, there’s no other way to put it.”
He furrows his eyebrows. “We’re not friends?”
Well, I hope not, you think. “You’re my brother’s friend,” you say. “And I think even he detests you sometimes.”
Now you’re approaching where the crowds are down the street. As you slip through the mass of people, the heat starts to rise even more in temperature, making his skin stick to yours in the humidity as he holds you close still.
“But we’re close,” you nod. “Not friends, not family. Just… My Oscar.”
He chuckles. “Your Oscar?”
“Ha-ha,” you roll your eyes, though the heat starts to get to your cheeks now. “Yes. My Oscar.”
Well, he likes the sound of that. It’s very intimate, he thinks. And he definitely likes that. “You know,” you continue as you finally escape the crowd, walking down the street and away from the market now. “They never stopped asking me.”
“Asking what?”
“About whether or not you were single,” you giggle.
Oscar sighs dramatically, halting to a stop as he shakes his head in great disappointment, making you laugh even harder. As the years went by, Oscar’s racing aspirations became more and more apparent to the student population, propelling him to celebrity status at school. It’s funny; the more lenient his schooling arrangements became, the less he showed up at school, and rumours started spreading, making him a sort of mythical figure that would drive girls wild whenever he did show up to class.
“You know I always fucking hated that,” he grumbles to you, eyes narrowing. “Fuckin’ hate how they treated you—I mean, you’re not my guard dog, you’re a human being.”
“It’s not that serious,” you snicker. “Schoolgirls are schoolgirls. You were a heartthrob, you know?”
Oscar lets out a hesitant chuckle. “Not by choice. I didn’t have time for girls,” he says, turning the corner towards the train station. “Well. Maybe just the one.”
“Oh?” you laugh. “How did I not know about this? Who was it?”
He smiles, turns to look at your curious face, and ruffles your hair like he always does. “The tiniest girl I’ve ever known.”
But you’re not that girl anymore. Later that night he knocks on your own door just before bedtime; you tell him to come in, and when he does, you’re standing in front of your mirror, clipping your hair back. In the sweltering heat of Australian December, your choice of pajamas is a camisole that wraps loosely around your bare chest, the shape of which is too apparent for him to not flush, and heather grey shorts that are dangerously short. It is now that Oscar realises that the tiny little girl he used to play wrestle with as a child really is, as he had told you before, all grown up now. When you turn around, smiling so sweetly and innocently and wishing him a good night’s sleep, he dryly swallows and silently nods, closing the door when you wave goodbye. If he didn’t leave right that minute he would’ve put his hands all over you, feeling that soft skin he’s been wondering about all day.
It’s not that that girl you were or the boy in him has vanished. But now you have both come to a situation where a certain passion shows its naked face, and that girl and that boy can now see the true spirit of the relationship they share, and it was there all along. Oscar sleeps scarcely that night, stirring in your brother’s bed in a cold sweat as his mind replays the images of your figure standing in front of your mirror, blissfully unaware of how gorgeous you have always been in his eyes. The ultimate standard of the perfect girl in his mind. What a pleasant affliction this is, a small price to pay for his heart to blossom.
He ignores the tent in his boxers and shuts his eyes. Your brother’s going to kill him.
Thoughts? Comments? Suggestions? Questions? Leave them all in my askbox, and sorry for any mistakes/typos!
#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri imagine#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#oscar piastri fanfic
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alright kids, gather around. I have some things I'd like to say regarding last night in a very organized list format
OVERALL SHOW THOUGHTS
Overall It was beautiful. I cried watching the stream. But sadly went to bed before it was over because I was feeling very unwell from staying up so late ): I missed blood,I'm not ok and Helena on stream but that's ok <3
MCR5,NEW TOUR?
-Did not expect them to release anything about that last night since it was night one of two. More likely they would do it tonight so I'm holding out hope for tonight since it's the more likely option
SOCIALS/ONLINE PRESENCE/POSTS
-Frank has NOT posted anything regarding MCR only dunes, which is very unlike him. As we know Frank loved MCR to death. He's the no 1 fan of his own band so I find it odd and very intentional that he has not posted anything about MCR at wwwyf only dunes
-along the same lines Mikey has not posted anything. Few weeks ago we got practice from him which was good, but all we have from him r 2 pics of him and his wife which r adorable, but not relating to MCR. also seems a little intentional to not have said anything about them playing at all
-MCR'S socials r DRY like bone dry. With swarm tour they posted things about "tonight were playing in (blank) at (blank time)" or something like that but they didn't post anything about WWWYF apart from when tickets went on sale for both days which is a little odd in my opinion
for all of them the silence seems ominous. Like they r trying to build suspense
OUTFIT'S, STAGE,GEE'S HAIR
-All black outfits head to toe, they looked good but it was very lacking black parade tbh (not a bad thing they looked so cute tho)
-STAGE-
-Only projections of spiders,tree (during cancer),swords,bridge (?),worms (?)
-SPIDERS PROJECTED
-swarm logo=fly
-spiders= eat flies
-"Witch" was leaked earlier this year. Paper kingdom was the album meant to come right after black parade. Their aesthetic kinda similar. Whites,blacks ect.
-some of the visuals like the swords was giving very paper kingdom 100% and if I rly did see a bridge projection in the background that's also very much the vibe. but most this stuff was done in short flashes across the backdrop
-Gee's hair-
-New haircut (stunning btw)
-new era? Gee had changed his hair for new era's. bullets/revenge it stayed pretty much the same apart from random dye jobs here and there but during black parade he got it real short and bleached it. Danger days ht dyed it red. hair is a big thing when it comes to Gee.
-New hair since shrine show (2019) pretty much. He's had long hair since MCR has come back together. U could argue it was to look nice but think about all the other stuff he's done that was also a big deal like umbrella acad final season and stuff. Why didn't he get a haircut then? Why now? and why was he hiding it?
-The last vid we got was earlier in the week the birthday one and he had the long hair still. It was recent like he did this JUST for the shows.
-i'm 100% taking this is a way of moving into a new era for MCR
MERCH
-some people were kinda bummed there was no new cool merch from the festival apart from the DEAD! zip up which is pretty cool ngl
-kinda looked like they were trying to get rid of older stuff before making something new perhaps?
-spending more time and resources on NEW shirts for a NEW album makes more sense than spending all the time and resources on designing new shirts for black parade when they can do that pretty much any time
HOPES FOR TONIGHT'S SHOW
I will not be staying up this time sorry guys. I slept 4 hours last night and feel very unwell from it. So i'll be sleeping tonight sadly but here is my hopes and predictions for tonight.
-MCR will play just like last night with the visuals and stuff but will maybe play one new song or announce it some how with the backdrop and "Paper Kingdom" will be announced to be released on OCT. 31
-Their socials will go live with all the info immediately
-Shortly after the album comes out there will be tour dates announced for spring/summer of 2025 INCLUDING warped tour
-END-
thanks for listening to my rambles if I think of more i'll add it to the list but I wanted a cohesive place to put all my findings and thoughts to share
#my chemical romance#mcr#my chemical fucking romance#gee way#g way#gerard way#ray toro#mikey way#frank iero
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New day, new doll post! Or in this case several doll posts XD Was originally planning to marathon all this into one giant entry, but to preserve my sanity and make things more easily digestible for my dear Readers, we're going to break it down into smaller sections. Consider this Andrea Mail, Part 1 <3
(You know the deal--rambling monologue and more pix under the cut)
So. About a month ago @dollsahoy was casting around for someone to adopt this doll she made by combining donated vinyl parts (head/arms/legs) with a vintage Holly Hobbie stuffed doll pattern (you can read more about the project in her blog post here). I volunteered immediately, and we hashed out the shipping details. At some point in that process she said in addition to sending the doll in question "I want to sew something for your dolls," which I naturally agreed to because why would I not ???? At any rate, a few weeks went by, and this past Friday the box finally arrived, filled with SO MANY wonderful things! I can't wait to share them all with you. But first we have to talk about this girl, because I am genuinely delighted by her.
While it may not be greatly apparent from the current state of my collection (though you may have gleaned from the peek into my doll trunk and willingness to take on those crocheted Barbie gowns), I have a latent countrified streak a mile wide, born from many long vacations with my grandparents in Vermont, years of pouring over Victoria magazine, and a love of classic children's literature like Anne of Green Gables. My house is full of antique books, old photos, vintage porcelain, and an assortment of handmade needlecrafts and small patchwork quilts I've collected while visiting my family who still live in New England. I suppose nowadays this would all fall under the heading of 'Cottagecore', though I've never bothered assigning a label to it. It's all just things that make me happy.
All of which is to say, when I tell you this doll is my aesthetic--my earliest aesthetic--it is really, deeply true on a level that is difficult to convey without...posing her in front of one of my thrifted quilts, which coordinates with her dress perfectly ^_^ She is just sweet--starry eyes, questionable haircut and all*--and has an innocence that makes her feel like an old doll, though technically her current assemblage is new. Nostalgic in the best possible way. I think she'll inspire me with the push I need to get my porcelain dolls out of storage, because she absolutely needs to be displayed alongside them.
Now the only matter left to address is her lack of a name! It would be rather awkward to continue referring to her, as I have been, as 'the doll my friend Andrea made.' Given her origin story, I think I'll call her Holly ;p
Alright, on to Part 2, of...idk, we'll reach the end eventually XD
*Be it noted the questionable haircut is not Andrea's fault--the head came that way. I gave her the ribbon to soften the effect a bit, but...yeah, the factory was not kind to her.
#handmade dolls#doll sewing#vintage dolls#holly hobbie#Megan goes on yet another reminiscing bender#happens more frequently with age#blog mail
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First Lines
Tagged by @thetragicallynerdy to share the first lines of my last ten fics! (Thank you for all the tags!!) I think I did this ages ago but I truly can't remember which ones I posted at the time, so I might as well do all ten!
Table Manners (Usopp/Sanji, Sanji teachs Usopp about fine dining etiquette)
See, there are some rules about the world that Usopp is still learning. He likes to think he’s a quick study—he’s kind of had to be, given he always seems to end up with the jobs nobody else wants—but weird things still catch him off guard: little details he’s never had a reason to notice, or care about.
2. Rosmarinus (Sanji + Nami, Sanji gives Nami a haircut and has some Feelings about it)
Sanji wouldn’t call hairdressing a particular talent of his, any more than Zoro would probably call lifting heavy objects a talent. It’s simply another application that his hands happen to be well suited for.
3. The Oar that Leads Us (Nami + Sanji, Nami and Sanji get stranded together in the East Blue)
They take stock in a moment of hard-fought calm: Sanji counts the food, while Nami counts her bruises.
4. Caleb Widogast's Five C's of Safe Return (Caleb/Essek, Caleb and Essek build a life together in Rexxentrum post-canon)
The little house sits along the western edge of the Tangles, just beyond the elegant disorder of the Court of Colors and its lively, winding streets. Its door is made of sturdy Dwendalian oak, but the floorboards are rosewood, brought from the shores of Nicodranas and laid in neat order by Caleb’s own hand.
5. burning up (for you, baby) (Caleb/Essek, the M9 have a beach day and Essek gets a sunburn)
The successful completion of a world-saving quest calls for a week in the sun: relaxation, rejuvenation, relocation (while the heat of Trent’s still-ongoing search dies down). With amulets slung over bathing wraps and under wide-brimmed hats, the Mighty Nein make their way back to Nicodranas, pay their respects to a grateful Yussa, and hit the beach.
6. Damage Control (Essek + Caleb, Essek gets hit by a curse in Aeor that devastates his powers)
“Ooo, look at this!” Essek looks up from his perusal of the cabinet’s bottom shelf to find his vision obscured by a curtain of deep, vibrant blue.
7. Echoes (Caleb/Essek, Essek is unsettled by Caleb's new eye-related powers)
There was a time when a voice from the darkness was comforting.
8. to say what lips cannot (Essek/Caleb, Essek muses about Caleb's hands)
It’s not hard to guess where the fascination began. So much of a wizard’s work is done with the hands. A forefinger extends, leaving wisps of smoke in the fiery ember’s wake. Crooked thumbs come together and apart, and space rends before their passing. A dot of sweet nectar passed over the lip, and the tongue becomes as deft as the curling wrist that placed it there.
9. a liquor never brewed (Caduceus/Eodwulf, Caduceus has an unexpected crush)
“You don’t like meat, and you don’t like drink.” Eodwulf grins, arms uncrossing. “Is there anything you do like?”
10. your dust from mine (Fjord/Caduceus, Fjorclay retelling of The Goose Girl fairytale)
Fjord’s first memories are of darkness.
Phew, that was a lot! Tagging (if they feel like it!) @the-littlest-goblin, @saturdaysky, @soullistrations, and anyone else who feels like doing it!
#replies#this was so fun to look back at!#it is WILD to me that your dust from mine is my 10th most recent fic#it feels like a lifetime since i was working on that story#it really is high time for me to do another novel-length multichapter huh
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Wisteria NPC dialogue
Dialogue if Wis was an NPC in MTAS! I've written some of these lines before, but since a couple other people have been doing it, I decided to write moreeeee! I've fleshed out most of the basic dialogue types.
[Very long post below the cut, heads up :P]
Intro: "Oh hey, you're new here? I'm new here too. I'm Wisteria. Or Wis. Or Wisty. Your pick. I'm still getting used to getting around here, but maybe we can learn together."
Acquaintance:
Oh, hey. What’s up? Me? Oh, not much.
How are commissions? Busy? Yeah.
Need any help with anything? No? Okay. Feel free to ask if you do.
"Ughhhhh, this heat. Whyyyy did I move to the desert...?! Oh hey, sorry. I'm just busy dying... Ughhhhhh...."
Buddy:
"I keep running out of water... No, not with the machines, it's my garden. Think I got a bit overzealous..."
“Hey, you explore the ruins lately? Find anything cool? I mostly turned up a bunch of cheap plastic junk, but there are some interesting things here and there.”
“If you wanna use the telescope without risking Qi giving you the stinkeye, he never uses it between 3 and 4 AM on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. Yeah, odd hours. But this is Qi we’re talking about, remember?”
“I don’t mind taking up something extra if it’ll help you out. With a guy like Yan at the helm, we need each other’s backs as much as possible…”
“Slow going machine? Hmm… Here, let me. I know a trick to make this a little faster…”
Good Friend:
“Quick question: what’s your favorite plant? …I see, I see. Lemme see if I can get my hands on it and we’ll see if it can grow out here!”
“Do I miss Highwind? Eh, yes and no. I’ve still got a chip on my shoulder about the place, but…it doesn’t matter now. I’ve got Sandrock. And I’ve got you.”
“My aunt Solanum sent me more pomato seeds again… You want any? No? Okay. …You want any potatoes or tomatoes? Swing by my place if you do. I have…many.”
I always keep my screwdriver set on me. You probably should too. You never know when you’ll come across something that needs screwing, or something that needs a little leverage, or a time when you need a stabbing weapon! …What? Never an impossibility.”
Sandstorm: “Careful out there. It’s already hard to see and the sandhat only makes it worse. Stay close to landmarks you recognize.”
Rain: “Raaaaaain! Oh man, I don’t have to water all gajillion of my plants today! Yaaaaay!”
Player has a new haircut: “Hm? Oh, new hair! Looks good.”
Player has panda eyes: “Hey, you good? It’s not really worth it to try and squeeze out work past like, 10 PM. Trust me, I would know.”
Player cuts a tree in front of Wis: “Oi, oi. That was a nice tree, I’ll have you know. Not many of those around here. Now it’s dead.”
Player attacks Wis with a weapon: “Ack! Be careful! That’s not a sparring weapon!”
Birthday: "My birthday? Fall 26. Born just before the end of the best season. Yes, fall is the best season. Objectively true."
Day of the Bright Sun: “I wanna take a closer look at the airship, but every time I look up, I’m conked in the head by a present…”
Showdown at High Noon: “Sparring is supposed to be safe, but we’re still swinging stone weapons around… Oh, and Qi might be slow, but that hammer is still 100% steel. Don’t get bonked.”
Day of Memories: “Who am I remembering? Well, I don’t know what kind of person they were. I don’t even know their name. All I know is that they lived a long, long time ago…and I see their face every time I look in the mirror.”
Tour de Rock: “I think most of the budget for Sandapalooza goes into injury compensation. And lawyer’s fees. For uh, the injury lawsuits. But um…you didn’t hear that from me.”
Running of the Yakmel: “Horses, I can handle. Yakmel, I can’t.”
Winter Solstice: [with a full mouth] “Mmm, hey. Have you tried this kebab? It’s really good!”
Loved gifts:
Floating galaxy: “Oooooh, look at this! It’s so pretty! You can look at the stars whenever you want! Thank you!”
Potted plants: “Aw, look at this little guy. I’ll be sure to take good care of it. What? Am I gonna give it a name? I’m a human named after a plant. Little guy’s already got a name, haha!”
Liked gifts:
Other relics: “Oh, this is cool. Where’d you find it? What do you suppose it was used for?”
Dishes she likes (e.g. beef noodles, sour and spicy potato): “Did you make this yourself? Smells really good. Thanks.”
Tea leaves or summer sand tea: “Never drank that much tea until I met Qi. Now I actually really like it. Thanks! I’ll be sure to share some with him too, if you don’t mind.”
Materials she likes (e.g. steel bars): “Oh, sweet Sunlight, you’re my savior. These things are a ton of work to get for how much I need.”
Neutral gifts: “For me? Oh. Thanks…?”
Disliked gifts:
Desert mushrooms or dishes with mushrooms: “Eh…mushrooms? Not a big fan, sorry. Beans might like it, though…”
Most accessories: “Hm… Looks cute, but it’s not really my thing. Sorry.”
Hated gifts: “…There are more civil ways of sending a message. Like using your words, for instance. Like an adult would do.”
Complimenting appearance: “Aw, thanks! Pablo says my hair and my fashion sense are boring, but maybe I like it boring, Pablo! It’s practical. And my hair is already great without anything extra.”
Complimenting work: “Hey, that…that really means a lot. Back in Highwind, being a small fry builder was such a thankless job to have. Even if one person is appreciating what I do…then it’s all worth it. Thank you.”
Complimenting personality: “Oh! Uh, thank you! Not sure what else I can say. I’m just me, y’know?”
Asked about her past:
“I’m a clone. Test tube baby. No, seriously! Some researcher found an Old World lab one day and there was baby me, chilling in a tube of goo. There were a bunch of other babies exactly like me in the same place. We were all adopted out eventually, to my knowledge. There’s another Wis in Portia, but I don’t know where the others ended up…”
“I had another workshop back in Highwind. Wasn’t very much, just a humble little shack. But it was mine. And I loved it. …And then I ran out of money.”
The first thing I made when I graduated from the Builder Academy was the sign outside my workshop. Made from local pine wood. I kept it even after my old workshop closed. Now it’s hanging outside my new workshop!”
“Things started getting kinda heated back in Highwind a year or two after my workshop went out of business. Apparently a lot of us newcomers were pretty quickly getting run out of business. We yelled and screamed at the Commerce Guild and the city government, but it only amounted to an audit of the Commerce Guild. An internal audit. Surprise surprise, nothing wrong, apparently.”
Asked about work:
“You ever notice how some people always want certain things commissioned? Like how the Civil Corps always needs canvas for some reason? I usually keep a stockpile of those materials so I can crank the stuff out a lot quicker when the commissions hit the board.”
“I always keep my eye out for anything that looks like a relic piece when I mine for ore. That and the rats…”
Asked what she likes to do:
“I thought I wasn’t going to be using my camera a whole lot after I restored it, but I’m actually kinda into using it these days. I like to take pictures of the plant and animal life around here. Makes it seem like less of a wasteland. Okay, most of it is a wasteland…but not all of it.”
“It’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but I honestly like reassembling relics by hand. Yeah, yeah, the restoration machine does a better job of it, but it’s fun trying to treat it like a puzzle, y’know?”
“Some nights, I like to park myself somewhere quiet and with a good view of the sky. And I just watch the stars for a while. Good thing about living in a desert is that ‘somewhere’ is pretty much everywhere.”
“I got so excited about gardening that I planted all the seeds I had at once. Uh…pro tip: don’t do that. Unless you want to spend hundreds on water every week. At least Burgess knows it’s all going to growing stuff and not getting wasted.”
Asked about her favorite things:
“I really like relics. Finding them, restoring them, studying them… Most of the stuff in the ground is pretty benign, unlike what some people think. And even if it wasn’t, it’s still important to acknowledge that they exist.”
“Um…I’d say plants, but I’ve got plenty of those to take care of already.”
“It’s always a good day whenever I can get my hands on extra materials.”
#my time at sandrock#mtas#mtas builder#mtas wisteria#mtas oc#other shady business#long post#i have a couple mission reaction dialogues but since there's no good way to censor spoilers i took them off :P
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can i have some oc lore pls its cold and im starving
maaaannn you're in for a ride!! ok ok where do i start
my "main" ocs are Russell, Dylan, Frankie & Viktor. together they are the bulletproof bandits and they are my lifeblood. bb is set in the year 2084, between the two towns Rhinestone City and Liberty City, where the first is a post-apocalyptic wasteland and the later is basically a mix between london in orwell's 1984 and neo-tokyo in akira. Russell lives in Rhinestone City with his buddy Dylan, plus a couple of thousands of survivors. the two live day by day making favors for the local gangs, when one day they get sent on a mission in liberty city, where they meet frankie and later on will be joined by viktor. here are their character sheets:
really, i could go on and on and tell you their story word by word but i feel like the topic is so vast i could stay here for hours. go to @bulletproofbandits if you feel like learning more about them!! also i am writing their story and posting it on wattpad <3
ohh and another thing. if you notice any similarities with danger days and the killjoys, believe me when i tell you i didn't do it on purpose lol like, i realized russell is basically party poison wayyyy after i created him. i guess me and gerard have similar minds when it comes to character design (which makes me want to make a comic with them soooo bad MX WAY WHERE ARE YOU WE NEED TO TALK)
my other oc is nuclear cat, my killjoy persona!! i created them a couple of years ago and i'm re-picking them up only now so i'm still building up their story. they're based on me from a few years ago when i had their exact same haircut and dye-job. they live in zone 4 and lost two of their friends in a drac attack, while the third one left the group just before that. NC, now alone, is looking for his ex-friend with the intention of asking him to come back to him, while also looking for new squad members. here's my rp blog for them if you're interested: @nuclearcat-fromthe-dangerzone
okay i think i yapped enough for now!! thank you so much for the ask <333 i love talking about my blorbinos 🥹
#witchy's ask booth#i feel like i'm out of breath just by typing all of this shit lmao#bulletproof bandits#nuclear cat rp
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I'm kind of late responding to your post, since it's been nearly twenty hours now, but I'm sorry that you had such a long day. I hope you're having a much more pleasant one at this point. <3
I do have a bunch of very happy things going on in my life right now, which I can share: I'm five sessions away from being finished all of my active cancer treatment, and I came out of it just as relatively and ridiculously unharmed as my deities assured me that I would. I'm getting my first haircut in seven months on Saturday morning, because my hair is growing back lusher and lovelier than it was before chemotherapy. I have a huge, fancy, sugar shack-style brunch scheduled with a group of friends on Sunday morning, where I can debut my new 'do. And I have three movie dates, and a date at a comedy club, with my primary partner, all scheduled within the next week, and all of which I'm super looking forward to!
Here are a few hopefully fun asks for you, too:
1. Do you have any hobbies that you enjoy inviting your deities to engage in with you?
2. How did your deities come into your life?
3. Do you have any goals that you've chosen to dedicate to them?
oh my goodness congratulations on almost being done with treatment! you are so incredibly strong and so loved and im sure everyone on here is so proud of you (I know I am!) thank you so much for sharing that so we can celebrate with you! and you have so much to look forward to that is so exciting! im sure you'll look amazing with your new haircut!
to answer your questions!
I love to read and color and so inviting my deities to engage with me in those is usually what I like to do, and while schoolwork isn't a hobby, I ask them to keep me company during that as well.
I left christianity a couple years ago and was still feeling like I wanted to belong somewhere and thats when I talked to one of my friends about all of these weird things that kept happening and she is a hellenic pagan too and she suggested that Aphrodite might be reaching out to me!
I have dedicated my goal of speaking kindly to myself and giving myself grace though my chronic illness journey to them!
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[5 𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙚𝙨]- Rin Itoshi
hey hey hey! so this is my first fic (that's getting posted) but i had a lot of fun writing this and i am pretty proud of this icl, it was hard and abit awkward to write at some points but i hope you enjoy it!^^
Rin x fem!reader word count: 1530 warnings: eating/drinking, kissing, reader is referred as 'girlfriend' and 'goddess' and implied to be a girl, but you can always think of it as gn or male. if i missed anything else please lmk!
Sight.
Rin wasn’t the most grateful person; he often complained about many things, especially on the field when a pass was sloppy or when his or his teammates' dribbling was under par. He wasn’t one to appreciate the scenery around him, whether it was a beautiful sunset on the beach or a rainy day seen from his living room window.
While he wasn’t particularly responsive to his surroundings outside of the field, that didn’t mean he wasn’t observant. Quite the opposite, in fact. He noticed every single detail about you (and his surroundings), even the smallest ones. It could be as simple as a different shade of lipstick or a new pair of earrings, or something more noticeable like a recent haircut or new shoes. He noticed everything.
It was now 5:24, twenty-four minutes past his usual time to start the day. Why was he keeping count, you might ask? Because of you. Twenty-four minutes ago, when he tried waking up, he saw you shifting in your sleep. He took it as a sign that if he moved, you’d wake up, and he couldn’t let that happen. Not when you were overworking your pretty little head so much. So he chose to lay back down, looking at you. He couldn’t help but feel his heart warm at the sight: messy hair, slightly parted lips, eyelashes resting on your cheeks, a tiny amount of drool pooling at the corner of your mouth. To anyone else, you might have looked like a mess, but to him? He found himself in awe.
To him, you were absolutely gorgeous, whether you were dressed up for a night out, in pajamas when he showed up unexpectedly, or simply sleeping in his arms. He found himself grateful for the ability to see. To see you smile brightly after eating your favorite dessert. To see you pout when he teased you for slipping on a puddle.
This is when he truly realized: he had to be grateful for the little things in life (in this situation his ability to see). How else was he supposed to worship you like the goddess you were?
Hearing
Rin was always a listener. In contrast, you talked a lot more, openly expressing what you felt. Being with Rin allowed you to do that more than usual because he never did, or never will, mind sitting there listening to you talk about something so mundane. If it were anyone else, they would have probably left, but he didn’t. He patiently listened to your feathery voice because he truly enjoyed listening to you talk.
It was 3:18 AM. Usually, at this ungodly hour, Rin would be sleeping. But today? There you were, sitting on his couch, talking about something. He couldn’t exactly figure out what; his mind was hazy, your honey-laced voice overwhelming him. What brought you both to this situation? A nightmare, one that Rin had. Nightmares weren’t unusual for him, pretty frequent and normal if you’d ask him. But the one he had today? Saying it scared him was an understatement. To Rin, his brother Sae and you, his childhood best friend and now girlfriend, were the most important people in his life. His relationship with his brother was extremely strained, and he knew their bond might never return to what it was. So when he had a nightmare that you left him for his brother, it terrified him. Even now, an hour after waking up, the thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. But there you were, sitting in front of him, talking about your week because he asked you to. He wanted to distract himself, so what better way than to drown in the comfort of your embrace and your sweet, melodic words? Talking about how you saw a new cat cafe on your way from work might have seemed boring to him at any other time (though he would have still listened just to see you happy). But right now, it made him happy because it meant he got to hear your angelic voice that lulled him back to sleep.
Touch
Rin wasn’t the most affectionate person at first, but with time, he started to crave your touch. A simple brush of your shoulders when you were standing next to him made his heart pound and head spin. Before long, he was practically attached to you whenever he could be, regardless of the time or place. He tried to control himself more in public for the sake of his ‘tough boy’ persona.
He couldn’t explain why your touch brought so much comfort to him, but it did. It made him feel complete, even if just for a moment. He believed he was enough and deserved love. Even if he wasn’t ‘Rin Itoshi: Star striker of Blue Lock,’ he knew you would still be there.
Now, here he is in a new cat cafe, grumpily staring at you as you pet a cat comfortably laying on your lap with one hand while sipping your coffee with the other. Rin couldn’t believe he was jealous of a cat, but he was. He shot daggers at the cat until a sudden touch on his cheek shook him out of his trance. You sweetly asked him if anything was wrong. He shook his head, knowing you didn’t believe him. But what was he supposed to do? Tell you out loud that he wanted so badly to be in that cat’s place? He’d kill to lay on your lap, having you thread your hands through his hair.
It was almost as if you read his mind. You shifted closer, whispering in his ear, promising him that you’d cuddle with him when you got back home. The thought made him all giddy inside. It was laughable, really, but at that moment he didn’t seem to care. When it came to you, he could throw away all his ego just to be held by you.
Taste
Rin wasn’t a confused person. In most spheres of life, he was clear about what he wanted to achieve. But when it came to you, it was as if someone flipped a switch. His usual calm and collected self could become putty in your hands with just a simple kiss. His past self wouldn’t be caught dead behaving like this, but how was he supposed to resist your sweet kisses?
It was almost laughable. You had recently bought a new lip gloss and made the grave mistake of putting it on in front of him. He stared at your pretty lips as you applied a generous coat. Being the oh-so-generous girlfriend you were, you offered some to him. Instead of reaching for the tube, what did he do? He grabbed your face, cupping your cheeks and placing his lips on yours, transferring the gloss from your lips to his. He could taste the vanilla, and he craved more, the sweet taste overwhelming his senses. He pulled away to let you breathe, muttering about how sweet it tasted, before pulling you back in for another kiss.
He knew that if he really liked the taste and feel of the lip gloss so much, he could just directly put it on. But that wasn’t the case at all. It was how you tasted and how your lips felt against his. That pleasant taste and feeling was something he could always get used to.
In those moments, with the flavor of vanilla still lingering, Rin realized that no matter how composed he was elsewhere, with you, he didn’t need to be. He could let go, savor each kiss, and simply enjoy the comfort and joy you brought into his life. And as he held you close, he knew that this was where he belonged—wrapped in your embrace, tasting the sweetness of your love
Smell
Everyone had their peculiar preferences, and for Rin, it was the way you smelled. Whether it was the allure of your new perfume, the lingering aroma of coffee from your dates, or the comforting scent of cinnamon and honey when you baked, each fragrance spoke to him in a language only he understood. It wasn’t just about the physical scent; it was about the sense of comfort and belonging you exuded.
After a grueling week, where every challenge seemed insurmountable, Rin found a small piece of heaven the moment he stepped into your shared home. The comforting aroma of vanilla and sugar greeted him, a welcome respite from the absolute hellish his day was. Despite the clutter of flour-covered countertops and scattered utensils, the sight of you kneeling in front of the oven, tending to cookies, filled him with warmth and inexplicable joy. Before he could fully process the scene, he found himself enveloped in your embrace, melting into the feeling of home.
Amidst the chaos, the lingering scent of citrus enveloped him, a familiar fragrance that grounded him in reality. It was a subtle reminder of the little things he cherished about you, whether intentional or not. As he savored the moment. Rin knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as he had you and your comforting presence, everything would be okay
#rin itoshi#rin x reader#rin x you#blue lock#bluelock x reader#sanawrites#rin fluff#bllk x reader#bluelock fluff
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still into you
pairing: bo burnham x reader.
readers pronouns: she/her.
warnings: none, just fluff and a little shy/bashful bo<3
era: what. (2013)
a/n: i am back !! i was gone for awhile, even though i didn’t mean too.. but i am back with a new imagine. i posted about it with a quick synopsis and all that. i feel like there is a few things to know before u read the whole thing. the reader (you ;3) are in a band (paramore) and you have two other members taylor and zac. and yeah that’s all.. oh and ur the lead singer. and be warned it’s incredibly unrealistic and cheesy, my favorite. so. in the words of tatianna— thank you. <3
(two years earlier.)
“are you sure?”
“honey, i’m sure. i mean think about it, when people find out that y/n l/n of paramore wrote a song about bo burnham, they’re gonna lose their shit.”
he chuckled as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. he smiled at her as they sat on the couch. the two had recently moved in with each other.
she tilted her head, “why would people lose their shit?” she asked.
he ran a hand through his hair— while thinking he really needs to get a haircut, his fringe is getting a bit too long, for his liking. “cause people are gonna be like ‘what the fuck? the paramore chick is dating this loser?’ so, they’ll be in for a surprise.” he laughed.
she laughed as she gave him a playful shove. “stop, don’t say that!”
(two months ago.)
“you wanna put it on the album?”
“yeah, why not? i think.. i don’t know.”
she sat on the couch of the studio. she had a small smile on her face.
“does he know you’re gonna put it on the album?” their drummer zac spoke. she shook her head as she busied herself looking at her notes. taylor and zac shared a look. they’ve never seen her this happy before, who knew she’d be the type to write a love song.
she looked up and smiled, “i wanna perform it at the upcoming festival. maybe even a lead single?”
the three started coming up with melodies, alternative lyrics, and whatever else they saw fit. by the end of the day, they had gotten more than sixty percent of the song finished.
as they left the studio, y/n couldn’t help but smile on her way back to her house— well, her and bo’s shared house.
when she arrived, bo welcomed her with a small kiss and a movie in bed.
her head rested on his chest. the mere thought of the song made her all giddy.
bo looked down, “why are you smiling so much? i know this movie isn’t the reason.” he cocked his head to the side with a sly smile on his face. his glasses were perched on his nose. she always like his circle rimmed glasses.
they’re cute.
she moved to lay her chin on his chest to look at him. she bit her lip in a way to contain her smile. it wasn’t helping very much.
“i wrote a new song today, and i think it has potential.”
(present.)
“i wanna thank all of you for coming out tonight! i also wanna say thank you for having us, we’re having a blast and we hope you are too.”
her hair flowed with the wind of the late night. she stared out into the crowd, holding the mic stand close to her. her smile was wide as she looked over to her left.
there stood bo smiling right back at her. he gave a small wave and a joking wink.
she looked to taylor and zac— and their backing band. taylor held his guitar close to him as he walked up to his mic.
“this next song, our lovely y/n wrote.” the crowd cheered and taylor looked over to y/n. “you wanna take it from here?” he asked.
she fiddled with her fingers as she nodded. bo watched with his eyebrows raised. he’s never really seen her nervous while on stage. while the crowd continued to cheer, bo joined in cupping his hands around his mouth and yelling a string of words.
(yeah, y/n!, that’s my girlfriend, whoo!, i’m dating her!)
she laughed as she pushed her hair back. “right, so this next song— you’ve might’a heard it, if you listened to the album. but, the person it’s about hasn’t heard it or even the album, i didn’t let them.”
she looked over at bo, as subtly as she could. he was starting to piece things together, slowly but he was catching on. his eyes widened the tiniest bit as he pointed to himself and mouthed, ‘me?’
she looked out to the crowd as the music started, “this next song is called ‘still into you’!”
she jumped around as the instrumental started.
“can’t count the years on one hand that we’ve been together. need the other one to hold you, make you feel, make you feel better!”
she held the mic in one hand as she sang, she didn’t dare make eye contact with bo. however, he was ecstatic, the smile on his face was starting to hurt from hearing the first line alone.
as the song continued the two couldn’t stop smiling. y/n continued to jump around when the song reached the chorus.
“cause after all this time, i’m still into you.” she sang and for the first time during the song made eye contact. he laughed as he could feel the heat on his cheeks.
when the song came to an end, the lights darkened as deafening cheers came from the crowd. she placed a hand over her chest as they walked off stage. they have about five minutes before their encore, and she will be spending that time with bo.
when she reached him, he pulled her into a— somewhat harsh— kiss and held onto their waist. he pulled away and hugged her.
“oh my god, i love you. that was incredible.” he gushed, the redness on his cheeks was still evident.
she looked up at him, “are you sure, was it okay? did any of the lyrics bother you?” she rambled a small bit. he shook his head as they walked to her dressing room.
“honey, i loved it.”
she nodded and placed a kiss on his cheek as they sat down. the two sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments. bo grabbed her hand and entangled their fingers together.
corny, cheesy, cute couple shit.
“so,” he began. “do you think anyone will be surprised the song is about me?” he asked.
“it shouldn’t. i only talk about you all the time.”
he smiled as he looked at their hands. “another question, do you still get butterfly’s around me?”
#bo burnham imagine#bo burnham x reader#whoabo#bo burnham#bo burnham fanfic#paramore#bo burnham fluff
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Parenting Rock Lee with Might Guy :)
Note:@xemaliahrssx here ya go! I hope it tastes just like you dreamed it would!
Sitting at the kitchen table, watching Guy and Lee devour the dinner you made, had you feeling nostalgic... You watched with your head rested on your hand. It was the little family moments that you appreciated more than anything else these days. "Yeah! and then I caught him in a cross block!" Lee said, describing their latest mission, his mouth full of food.
"Haha yes yes (y/n) you should have been there, our Rock Lee is becoming a real force to be reckoned with, much like his handsome sensei" Guy said with a wink in your direction.
"Handsome indeed" you said with a grin.
Thinking back to the days when you were a little more of a workaholic made you laugh. If you told your younger-self all those years ago that you would be Konoha's worst helicopter parent in just a few years, you'd have never believed it. Guy was a perfect match for you in that regard. You two were a well oiled machine when it came to parenting.
While Lee could do no wrong in your eyes, Guy was a bit heavy handed in his discipline of Lee's skills as a shinobi. You kissed every bruise and scrape, while Guy was teaching him how to prevent them in the first place.
Rock Lee has had more than his fair share of the short-end-of-the- shit-stick his entire life. BUT One could be forgiven for not recognizing the true level of hardship the boy has overcome in his short tenure as a shinobi. Lee is a true underdog.
Lucky for him, you've always been a bit of a sucker for an underdog.
You thought back to those early days......
Even before Lee evolved to a mini version of your childhood crush, you felt the need to protect him. Watching him fumble and practice jutsu in vain day after day.....early in the morning and into the night. You would watch him from a distance while training your own team. One early morning, you decided to check in on the boy with long black hair. He kicked at a post, counting off as you looked on...10....11.....12.....his kicks were weak even for his young age. As he got closer to 50 he fell back, overwhelmed by the pain of repetitively beating his shins into the wood without chakra to safeguard his bones.
Clearly angry at his situation, the thought occurred to you that maybe he wasn't using chakra because he couldn't....the boy had tears streaming from his eyes. It broke your heart to watch a kid who couldn't be more than 10, cursing his life.
"A kid working that hard shouldn't have to feel that defeated..." you said to yourself.
You felt conflicted. Torn between wanting to step in and takeover his training...but feeling the weight of responsibility that would come with encouraging a child to chase a pipedream that would only lead to disappointment. You knew all too well what happens to weak ninja. The reality was that it would be cruel to encourage the boy to peruse a life as dangerous as that of a shinobi. You were no slouch when it came to taijutsu but ninjas are able to compete with one another because of the advantages that come with developing kakai genki.
Could a boy with no use of chakra stand a chance against the generations of those families of ninja who use fearsome jutsu and tactics like lightning...wind....wood or even hereditary gifts like the dreaded sharingan or byakugen? The real answer was sad and harsh. No. He couldn't.
You wouldn't be so irresponsible as to tell the boy he could be anything but a failure.
If he perused that path, he would die young.
So you stood back, restraining the desire to comfort and nurture the little boy out of what you told yourself was mercy. Day after day, week after week....you watched on....until it became too much. You couldn't sleep anymore, couldn't function on missions the same way. Always thinking back to him still out at those training grounds.....always struggling.
....
One morning it was pouring rain. You called off training that day for your team and headed out to the place you knew he would be. He was there of course. He was doing his best to catch a cold while practicing hand signs to no avail. After watching him for a few minutes you finally asked, "What's your name kid?" speaking loud to project over the rain. Startled he looked up to where you stood, perched on a post a few feat away. "I...Im Rock Lee" he said timidly. You laughed at his shy but sweet face, "Im y/n" you said.
"Your kicks look like they could use some work", holding your palm about chest high, to show him where his blow should be landing. The boy grimaced...clearly angry with his lack of direction in training. You laughed and the both of you worked on his kicks for the duration of the morning.
"I think you'll be a splendid ninja someday" you said as you offered him a bit of lunch you packed. The boy looked up at you with the most heartbreaking fear in his eyes, "I can't use chakra" Lee said barley above a whisper, clearly ashamed to tell you the truth.
You ruffled his hair. "Look kid, life is shitty sometimes. But I can tell you are someone who will never quit. No matter the odds, and that is something worth more than all the talent in the world." He instantly smiled up at you, melting your heart for what would be the first of a million times. Laughing and showing you also first time you saw that shiny smile that you would come to love more that anything on earth.
From then on he was your responsibility. Your chest burned with pride in his concrete determination. Feeling instantly the protective burn and feral instinct to insulate him from anything that would hurt him.
....
It was about a year later when things evolved. You and Lee had become close. He, being an orphan as you found out he was, had taken your invitation to live in your spare bedroom. It wasn't long before you were nagging him to be sure and eat breakfast before class, take baths every night. You were often hearing your mothers voice echo in your own as you guided the child to a structure he lacked.
You even went to his parent meetings at the Academy, much to the surprise of Iruka (because he himself was 2 years older than you and had known you since you were smol) laughed when you asked to see Lee's reports.
----
Then one hot summer day you got the order... your team was dispatched on your first extended mission with your new genin. 3 months on a C rank mission to Suna. Your heart sank as you remembered Lee's graduation exam was in just a few days. Before you left, you kissed his forehead and promised a tearful Lee who had become just as attached as you over the last year, that would bring him back a graduation present.
You just knew he would finally pass.
....
Returning to the village near midnight you couldn't wait to see Lee. After giving report to Lord Third, you quickly made your way home. Quietly cracking the door to his bedroom, you peaked in to see his sweet little face. The snoring boy looked peaceful.
"He cut his hair?" you thought puzzled..."he must have done it himself, it looks a little odd." You laughed at the thought of him using a bowl to cut his hair.
Then your eyes traveled to the headband still around his forehead, "He passed!!!" you quietly celebrated, careful not to wake him up. You placed the promised gift on his dresser, a brand-new set of num-chuks you'd had made in Suna.
The next morning you were up before sunrise making a celebratory breakfast when an extreme round of knocking came from the apartment's front door.
You quickly answered, immediately flustered when on the other side was none other than Might Guy....the same Guy you'd had the hots for over a decade.
"Y/N!, I must have the wrong address! I was looking for one of my students!" Guy said in his familiar boisterous cadence. Laughing nervously you started to respond, when behind you Lee pushed his way through the doorframe. Your eyes widened at the sight.
The haircut made sense now, Lee stood side by side with his sensei. He was wearing Guy's jumpsuit... they could have been father and son.
Looking at the two of them standing side by side in front of you for the first time gave you the most jarring sense of dejavu.
"Guy sensei! Look what Y/N brought me from her most dangerous mission!" Lee brandished the weapon, beaming up at his teacher who laughed and winked in your direction. "Ah, a great choice! Only the most skilled ninja know how to use such a fine weapon! We must enlighten you at once Lee my boy!" With that the handsome jonin and your sweet Rock Lee were off to train.
You had known Guy since he was still struggling to gain entrance to the Academy, you knew that the man who radiated confidence today, only earned that ability through blood, sweat, and tears.
You apprehensively accepted that Might Guy was a good match to be Lee's sensei.
"Be careful!" you called, more than a little apprehensive at the thought of your sweet baby boy training with such an admittedly impulsive man. Feeling a small tug of sadness as you watched the two of them disappear down the street.
"Lee's getting tall..." you though as you closed the door.
....
Over the next few years Lee had grown into a strong young man. You felt such extreme pride in everything he did. Even though you being in your mid-twenties were not nearly old enough to be Lee's mother, he had taken to occasionally calling you mom.
Lee was never embarrassed of you as he grew into a teen like some of the other kids his age. He was always just as willing to give you a hug before a mission as the day you met him.
It would be a lie to say that the relationship you and Guy shared hadn't also matured along the way. Although you weren't Lee's biological parents, anyone would be forgiven for thinking that you were. Everything you had admired about Guy, his hot-bloodedness, his devotion to youthful perseverance, his love of his village had been passed down to your surrogate son.
It was only natural that you and Guy would become a team in raising Rock Lee. Over time after a few years of dinners, training sessions, birthdays, holidays etc...Guy decided to propose to you.
It was a literal dream come true. You couldn't say yes fast enough. But as required when two shinobi become married, when you went to sign the paperwork to make your marriage official, requesting a stamp of approval from Lady Tsunade....she extended to you a folder with a second set of forms.
Guy beamed as you read the contents. Adoption papers with Lee's name printed at the top in bold.
"He will always be our son. Since we are making it official... why not add one more?" Guy said with a laugh. The tears began welling in your eyes. "He's 17" you laughed, "I love you" is all you could think to say in response to the most kind gesture you have ever witnessed.
Guy held his trademark thumbs up high as he replied, "Lee will always need his mom, no matter how big he gets!" His words like music to your heart...
You'd never felt so complete as you walked hand in hand with Guy, on your way home to surprise your sweet son with the news.
Upon telling Lee what the two of you had done, he looked from the papers back to you. Confusion spread across the sweet ravenette's features. "But I do not understand" Lee said with a hand rubbing the back of his neck. "Have you not always been my mom?"
The innocent look in his eye and profound sincerity in his voice made tears well in your eyes for what felt like the tenth time that day. You laughed and swept he and Guy into a hug that didn't last long enough. "What's for dinner?" the two men asked in unison and in that moment you knew you were the luckiest person in the world.
#rock lee#might guy x you#might guy relationship#naruto imagines#naruto#naruto fanfiction#might gai imagine#might guy fanfiction#rock lee fanfiction#parenting with maito#rock lee's mom#maito guy#rock lee imagines#rock lee x y/n#team gai
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Here is a list of amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of January. Between the third month of the Bottom Louis Fic Fest and all the other fics that authors posted throughout the month, it’s clear that this was a great way to start off the year of bottom Louis fics! Happy reading!
1) Leave It All Here In This Bed | Explicit | 1071 words
One of Louis’s many sleepless nights.
2) Games Are Only Fun If You Win | Explicit | 1554 words
Louis and Harry have a bet. If Louis wins that means he's off laundry duty. If he loses well.
Let's just say Harry won't be complaining.
3) If It Makes You Feel Alive | Explicit | 1691 words
Louis is horny one night on the tour bus so he and Harry fuck while trying not to get caught by the others.
4) Beg Me Silently | Explicit | 2140 words
“So, your boyfriend…is he planning a magic night for you at home?”
Louis snorts. “He’s not, actually. He’s pretty hardworking, you see, so he comes home late.”
“Such a shame.” Harry walks towards Louis, so close that they’re sharing the same space. “You’re so beautiful, Louis. If you were mine, I wouldn’t make you wait for me.”
5) Birthday Wishes | Explicit | 2895 words
Note: This is part 3 of this series.
The one where Harry takes Louis to dinner for his birthday, and gifts him with a vibrating butt plug he wears to the restaurant. Fluffy birthday sex follows.
6) New Year, New Beginnings | Explicit | 3577 words
Note: This is part 4 of this series.
The one where Louis and Harry unexpectedly end up at the same New Year's party. Louis makes Harry jealous, and Harry shows him just how bad of an idea that is.
7) Heaven In These Sheets | Explicit | 3557 words
Bunny Hybrid Louis has it out for his boyfriend’s phone.
8) Pits Of Love | Explicit | 3934 words
Harry smells Louis' sweat for the first time after they've moved in together. His alpha goes a bit wild.
9) First Blow Hits You Cold | Explicit | 3986 words
Louis wears a shirt with a big ass H on it for his livestream, and Harry really, really likes it.
10) Close Your Eyes And Surrender To Me | Explicit | 4209 words
Note: This is the sequel to this fic.
Harry hummed and pressed his lips to Louis’ forehead. “I am very stressed, but I also know you’re stressed and tired too.” He glanced to Louis’ face seeing the confirming nod. “But, if you’re sure you’re up for it.” Harry smirked, waiting for Louis to say it was okay before he laid the boy down on the bed and hovered over him. “I really love this color on you. You look so pretty. Always do.” He spoke quietly, rubbing his hands over Louis’ soft thighs and moving them to his tummy. He then moved his hands up to Louis’ hair. It had been a while since Louis’ last haircut and it was now long enough that he could tie it up in little ponytails and even little braids. Louis currently had two hair clips in his hair. One was gold with little stars on it and the other gold with a moon. “I love your hair princess. Do you feel pretty?” He asked.
11) P Is For | Explicit | 4349 words
Note: The pairing for this fic is Louis/Pedro Pascal.
Louis and Pedro, winter in New York, a coffee machine, and bilingualism.
12) Pull Out Your Heart | Explicit | 5028 words
He wants to apologise, the five letters sit on the tip of his tongue but he does not. It means nothing to either of them.
13) Loving You's the Antidote | Explicit | 5070 words
Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.
Prompt 302: Alpha Harry & Omega Louis are divorced but still spend each other’s heat/rut together because they only really trust each other but things get complicated when Louis (or Harry, author’s choice) spend it with someone else. Cue angst with a happy ending.
14) Sweet Talk With A Hint Of Sin | Explicit | 5095 words
“What the hell are you wearing?” Harry had the nerve to ask, and Louis bristled slightly.
“Well, what the bloody fuck does it look like?” Louis snapped, breaking his seductive demeanor momentarily because he was wearing this ridiculous get-up for Harry. He had thought that this would go over well.
And now that the moment was here, it was going anything but.
Harry’s brain seemingly malfunctioned, completely unbothered by the fact that he was now standing in an actual pool of red wine, or that there might even be broken glass directly next to his feet. He was focused solely on his boy splayed out on their bed. “Are those ears?”
“Yes,” Louis mumbled, reaching up to finger the burnt orange fur of the fox ears. “And a tail,” he said, shifting to lay on his stomach so that his perky ass was on display, showing the way his lube slicked hole had been prepped and was now hugging the impressively sized plug attached to the fox tail.
15) New York's Beauty | Mature | 5274 words
Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.
Prompt 104: AU where Harry is an alpha wolf and Louis is a hybrid kitten. They were roommates. While they were arguing about something stupid, Harry wanted to bend Louis over the kitchen table and knot him right there. He slowly accepted his feelings and extreme desire for Louis, so he started to tease the hybrid until he would beg Harry to fuck him. They fall in love.
Louis needs to feel comfortable with the camera so harry fucks him until he is blushing and calm and gentle.
16) I Went Astray To Make It Okay And He Made It Easy | Not Rated | 5537 words
Note: This is a sequel to #17 on this list.
Harry makes sure to put on his blue truckers hat that has 'if you ain't a fisherman, you ain't shit' printed on it to hold back his hair out of his eyes. He remembers when he came home after buying it and Louis went on for days about much he looked like such a Dad. He made sure to fuck him hard that night and show him that he's a fucking DILF not just a Dad.
17) You Make My Heart Beat Like The Rain | Explicit | 6611 words
Note: This is the prequel to #16 on this list.
"You're stunning, eh?" Harry whispers, his Canadian accent thick with lust. It usually slips out when he gets horny because he knows it turns Louis on. Harry presses his lips into the curve of his neck. His hot breath makes Louis shiver. He opens his eyes and sees Harry's bigger, tattooed arms wrapped around him, completely engulfing his smaller frame—and, fuck, maybe he is up for it.
Why does his boyfriend have to be such a fucking DILF? He blames it on a twitter thread he read a few weeks ago.
18) Baby, Let Me Love You Goodbye | Explicit | 6837 words
Harry and Louis are going through a divorce after being together for 10 years, so Louis comes over to collect his things, and, well…what’s a little goodbye sex, just one last time?
19) A Place To Call Home | Mature | 8113 words
The thing is, he’s pretty sure he’s found home in a person in his life, someone who’s been essential in everything he’s done since he was seven years old. Through every broken bone, through every breakup, through every failure; through every triumph, personal and professional, and every goal he has scored in his time in Man U, there’s been someone there for it all.
That’s his best mate. Harry. A twenty-two year old with the kindest heart known to man, a slow drawl that is entirely too endearing, with the dreams to open up his own flower shop. A quiet and earnest boy with those he doesn’t know, and open and honest and absolutely lovely with those he loves.
It all hits him, really, the night of their final game of the Premier League. Again, timing is not his forté. They’re gearing up, ready to hit the field for the second half against Liverpool that determines their ranking in the League, when his brain decides to come online (after seventeen years, apparently), and conveniently supply him with the revelation that oh yeah, you’re kind of in love with your best friend.
20) To Love Without Reason | Explicit | 8854 words
Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.
“Come on in, soldier,” Louis pats Harry’s chest and walks away, leaving Harry to follow behind.
Harry stands in the living room, looking around at Louis’ dwelling. Family pictures placed high on a shelf, certificates of Louis’ practice, and other trinkets that make Harry entirely too nostalgic.
“I have to warn you,” Louis says as he puts the kettle on, the water droplets from his hair trickling down the golden skin of his back. “The door jams if you lock it so you'll have to leave it ajar.”
Harry acknowledges with a soft hum, too entranced by Louis’ glistening skin to form a coherent reply.
21) It's A Game We Play In The Sheets | Explicit | 9426 words
Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.
“Louis is… He’s a boy I’ve been talking to.” He bit his lip, grin evident. “After I watched one of his videos during a Harry Reacts a few weeks ago I messaged him and…”
His sentence was cut short by the sound of a timid little “Hi” being whispered into his ears.
Harry closed his eyes for a second, pausing to take in the online presence of the real-life fairy, before he opened them and smiled. “Hey Lou. Ready to play with me?”
22) One Track Mind | Explicit | 9911 words
“You have a lot of friends, huh?”
Harry nods again. “A few.” The muscles of his bicep flex under Louis’ touch, and the alpha looks a bit drunk from the feeling, his eyes blinking slower and lips quirking at the corners. He’s leaning in, his alpha scent surrounding Louis from all sides.
“Mm,” Louis hums, squeezing his fingers tight, just to hear the sharp way Harry inhales. Then, when Harry is least expecting it, Louis returns the earlier sentiment—leaning up on his tiptoes and pressing his weight into Harry for balance, drawing his lips up close to Harry’s ear, and whispering, “Why don’t you go tell them goodnight.”
23) See You When I Get Home | Explicit | 10308 words
"What are you thinking about?" He repeats Louis' question from earlier.
"You." Louis' reply comes out in a moan. It shocks Harry, and his brain scrambles for the right thing to do, the right thing to say. He doesn't even know how to feel, or if he even heard Louis correctly.
"Me?"
24) Floating | Explicit | 10435 words
Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.
The one where Louis has control over water in every form but he doesn't know what to do with it. Harry is here to guide him.
25) I'm At Your Mercy Now (And I'm Ready To Begin) | Teen & Up | 10552 words
Where Louis' soulmark was leaked, Harry keeps his private. They're both famous popstars. Louis is waiting for his soulmate, Harry has a feeling it's him but Louis is completely oblivious.
26) You And I 'Till The Day We Die | Explicit | 10807 words
Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.
Prompt 124: A fic inspired by Groupie Love by Lana Del Rey, where Harry is a Rockstar and Louis is his cute little boyfriend who tries to hide himself in the middle of the crowd. (Preferably set in the 80s)
27) Moonlit Sky Over Gentle Waters | Explicit | 11377 words
Harry left his hometown to sail the seven seas and returns seven years later, yearning for something — or rather, someone — that he isn't sure he can have.
28) Late Night Devil Put Your Hands On Me (And Never, Never, Ever Let Go) | Explicit | 11524 words
Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.
Harry is a demon that feeds off of people’s nightmares. He finds his next meal in Louis’ dreams where he changes and molds them to become scary nightmares. Soon harry learns Louis is a lucid dreamer- he can act on his own in his dreams. They interact in the real world and have sex in the dream world. when the demon catches feelings for louis, he wants to live.
29) If You're Feeling Lonely | Explicit | 12807 words
The guest list is on the desk. Louis runs through it and stops a third of the way down, a familiar name catching his attention.
Harry Styles.
All he needs to do is confirm whether Harry Styles is the same Alpha whose scent left such a memorable impression on his body.
30) Want You To Play With Me | Explicit | 14335 words
"I'm quite not finished with you yet." Harry whispered right on the shell of his ears and squeezed the girth of his cock, making Louis shudder a sloppy puff of air as the tickling sensation ran through his spine, Harry was intoxicating. "Let me play with you a little more, Lou. I promise I'll give you what you want. Be my good boy, hm?" He slowly annunciated every word and licked a warm line on the nape of Louis' neck — Louis curled in his arms at that. Submitting himself a little bit more.
"Always wanna be your good boy." Louis whispered back and enveloped Harry's hand in his.
31) No Good Unless It's Real | Explicit | 17021 words
Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.
Louis is a very busy farmer who’s just trying to make it to his next nap and Harry’s the new hot vet that’s determined to infiltrate every area of his life.
32) Tennis Court | Explicit | 18285 words
Louis and Harry are co-workers and Louis is sure Harry hates him because he always refuses to help him with his heats.
33) Joker Is Wild | Explicit | 18444 words
Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.
Prompt 390: A reality show AU where Louis, Harry, Liam, Zayn and Niall are selected to stay at confined in a luxury mansion for 1 month, where they are required to have explicit, graphic sex at all times, like a porn Big Brother kind of show. Every week there are several different sexual tasks and trials that they must overcome together, which all ends in orgasms for all of them. When the boys all discover Louis is strictly a bottom, and a slutty one at that, they all can’t wait to get their hands on him. Bonus if other hot celebs are there too, like Shawn Mendes, for example. Includes lots of hard gay sex, rimming, blowjobs, gang bangs, ass worshipping (Louis ass, of course) and double penetration.
34) Baby, Let Me Love You Goodbye | Not Rated | 20249 words
Louis almost calls Harry daddy. Cue denial, feelings, and way too much dirty talk.
35) Give So Much (Not Enough) | Mature | 24610 words
Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.
“For my little lion,” Louis slid the smoothie bowl in front of Oscar, letting him dig in with his little hands. “And for daddy.”
He didn’t process the bowl in front of him, the push across the table causing a raspberry to roll off and fall on his lap, because Louis calling himself mummy may make him feel all sorts of mushy emotions, but Louis addressing Harry as daddy was suddenly having a very different effect on him. Since when did Louis saying daddy out loud render him speechless?
“Daddy’s still sleepy, but we’re up bright and early right Ossie?” Louis’ cooing shook him out of his daze. The man coughed, picking the raspberry off his lap and swallowing it with unintentional, and very unnecessary, eye contact with Louis. “Well, is it better than your protein smoothies and why?”
Harry chuckled, spooning another heap of the strawberry banana goodness into his mouth, “Way better sweetheart.”
A friends to lovers au with tons of mama Louis and domesticity.
36) Short And Sweet | Explicit | 29658 words
Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.
Louis is a shy university student in a world scarce of male omegas. He's always dreamt of having an alpha despite his sheltered upbringing, fantasizing about being loved and cared for. He's immediately smitten by the mysterious alpha with curly hair, broad shoulders, and the addictive coffee scent.
37) Under Thorn And Bramble | Explicit | 31931 words
Note: The pairing of this fic is Louis/OMC. This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.
Prompt 445: A historical AU where Louis is working as a servant on a farm. The family that owns the farm is exceedingly cruel to him and he is often exhausted and in pain from his work. A mysterious stranger boards at the farm and is very intrigued by Louis, but Louis doubts his interest in genuine. Any pairing fine.
38) Pink In The Night | Explicit | 32324 words
His finger was tapping on Louis’ chat before Harry could even think about it, eyes reading over the last text he’d sent Louis. I miss you. Do you miss me?
Harry had felt so pathetic that December night, alone in the dark room of the Japanese apartment he’d been staying at, the strong smell of alcohol clinging to his clothes.
Louis hadn’t replied, but Harry wasn’t surprised; he had texted Louis a few times before while he’d been away, but there had never been a response.
It pained him to admit that this was their new normal.
39) Coeur De Pirate | Explicit | 34207 words
Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.
He tilts his chin up as the Captain strides across the deck, his footfalls falling loudly against the planks. The crew watches them from afar.
Stepping into his space, the Captain wraps an arm around Louis’ waist and pulls him in. He lowers his head to breathe his words against Louis’ cheeks. “I won,” he whispers, “I’ve come to claim my prize.”
40) If The Sun Don't Shine | Explicit | 36330 words
In a world where you meet your soulmates in dreams, Louis has spent the last three years going to bed hoping to finally meet his, only to end up disappointed time and time again. It all changes with a violin.
41) The Pirate And The Piper | Explicit | 38396 words
Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.
The one where Harry is Hook, Louis is Pan, and nothing is what it seems.
42) Begged And Borrowed Time | Mature | 40198 words
Prompt 60: Time travel AU where Louis somehow gets thrown back in time and ends up in the dark ages, during the reign of the Styles family.
43) I Ain’t Gonna Fence You In | Mature | 40645 words
Louis Tomlinson is a 18 year old city boy who is forced to spend his summer before his senior year at his aunts farm. There, he meets Harry, a 19 year old country boy his aunt hired to help around the farm.
Maybe the farm isn't the worst place to fall in love?
44) Don't Want No Other Shade Of Blue | Explicit | 43285 words
Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.
Prompt 339: it was foretold that Alpha Prince Harry would be mated to a beautiful male omega with eyes that could rival the stone amethyst, but Omega Prince Louis refuses to believe it.
45) No Easy Choice, But You’re Mine | Explicit | 44963 words
Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.
Louis is an omega hitman with one last job that goes a little sideways. Harry is the alpha bartender that looks a little too closely and cares a little too much.
46) Sedative Duty | Explicit | 46588 words
Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.
Pop-star of the moment Louis Tomlinson is on his third-world tour. He decides to hire renowned professional dominant Harry Styles to unwind while on the road. In an effort not to raise suspicion by the crew, fans, and press, Harry pretends to be his bodyguard. He ends up being far more than that.
47) Just Always Be Waiting for Me | Explicit | 46837words
Note: Please be sure to check tags for any trigger warnings.
Harry Styles is a librarian at a private school who is not very devoted to his job but is very devoted to Louis Tomlinson, the resident English teacher, and has been ever since they met six years ago beneath a lonely streetlight.
Louis Tomlinson is a self confessed bookworm whose passion for Peter Pan, the literary classics and Harry Styles' happiness knows no bounds. He's self sacrificing, somewhat self loathing and haunted by a trauma he can't talk about.
Mutual pining abounds in this fic where a Peter Pan quote is never just a Peter Pan quote, caretaking is a love language and a platonic nude is never actually platonic. Louis has a kiss that belongs to Harry but he also has a painful past that might end up hurting them both.
48) Since The Future | Explicit | 48947 words
Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.
"It's done."
The words were barely above a whisper when they left Harry's mouth, but they hit Louis with the force of a freight train. It was done. Holy fuck. They had created a time machine. And tomorrow, they were travelling to the future.
49) Dirty Laundry Looks Good On You | Explicit | 50581 words
Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.
When Louis Tomlinson finds his clothes lying in a sad soapy mess on top of the washing machine in which they are supposed to be, he acts upon his anger and retaliates. What he doesn’t expect is having to deal with a six-feet tall, curly-haired and dimpled man in return, who seems to arouse confusing feelings within him and to make his life take an unexpected turn for the better (or worse?).
50) Hamartia | Explicit | 66970 words
Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.
Six years is a long time for Louis to mend his heart back and erase every lingering, stubborn memory of his ex-lover, Harry Styles. But when news of the war being over spreads across the world like wildfire, and he stumbles upon the alpha he vowed himself to never see ever again, he realises that not even a lifetime will be enough for him to pick up the scattered, broken parts of his soul. He's far from expecting the alpha he loved to be struggling in the same way.
All the ointments in the world might never soothe the pain out, but it doesn't take long for them both to come to the conclusion that, maybe, the only medicine to their heartbreaks are what caused them in the first place.
51) Feeling Borrowed, Always Blue | Explicit | 68214 words
Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.
Louis has been dreaming of his wedding since he was young - he just never expected it to happen like this. words
52) Mind Over Matter (You Under Me) | Explicit | 73825 words
Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.
It’s dark outside when Harry finishes practice for the day.
53) Rogue | Not Rated | 94992 words
Louis is a rogue Omega who's suffered through rejection and abuse for the biggest part of his life. He stumbles onto the Styles pack, quite possibly the kindness one he's ever met.
54) Chandeliers And Fake Smiles | Mature | 145010 words
On the brink of winning their first Grammy; up-and-coming rock band One Direction find themselves in the midst of the biggest scandal of their career - right before tickets for their world tour go on sale. in order to save their reputation, Louis Tomlinson must find it in his heart to forgive pop singer and heartthrob Harry Styles after his first impression rubbed him entirely the wrong way. after all, they cannot sell a relationship if it looks like they hate each other.
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heartbreaker
warnings: angst, swearing, drinking, and smut OK WOW
summary: never have i ever with your ex and current boyfriends is an interesting experience
a/n: excuse me for taking such a long ass time on this but super big shoutout to whoever requested it for being patient <3 i’ve been trying to write what y’all would actually be interested in so don’t be shy tell me what you want to read!! also italics are flashbacks and as always i hope everyone enjoys hehe
-
“never have i ever...” harry purses his lips and looks around at your table, “cheated on schoolwork. successfully.” everyone easily takes a sip of their beers, except harrison. you snort and tilt your bottle to where he’s sitting across from you.
“haz, how are you the only one?” “because this div used to copy all my shit in year eleven, and i’d be the one to get in trouble for it.” he elbows tom’s side, tom nudging him back. “should’ve turned yours in first, bro.” rolling his eyes, harrison bends the rules of the game by sipping his drink.
their silly bickering makes you realize how much you’ve missed hanging out with the boys like this. it makes you realize you how much you’ve missed the boys in general. the last time you even saw tom, really saw him, was for a catch up lunch. you had to rush it because he was in between onward press junkets.
before that was the day he left to film cherry, almost a year ago. it’s not at all something you like to remember. dwelling will just set you back, and you’ve come too far to let that happen. as far as one can go when the person they gave their whole heart to breaks it.
now you have luke, and tom has anyone in the world he wants. it’s a new relationship. you’ve only been seeing luke for about three months. you met him while buying some post-breakup ice cream. he randomly started a conversation with you on the line. you bonded over your hatred for chocolate and ended up trading numbers. since you’re slowly getting more serious, you invited luke to the pub tonight.
the meet the friends stage is an important one, and it’s not often that one of your closest would be available for it. tom’s thoughts and opinions still mean a lot to you. you’ll always love him, even if it’s not in the same way you once did. you know he’ll always love you right back. that’s why he did what he did in the first place. that’s what he told you, at least.
you spot luke searching for your table in the pub not too much later. sitting up straighter for him to see you, you wave him over. none of the boys knew that he was coming tonight, so you’re a bit nervous about what they might say. you just hope they’ll like each other as much as you like all of them.
“hey, y/n.” luke leans down and kisses your cheek. you smile up at him, scooting over in the booth to give him room to sit. you’re in between him and tom now. it’s pretty metaphorical if you think about it. “hi. good day?” “yeah, and super busy. i’m luke,” he reaches out his hand for any of the boys. harrison gives him a friendly shake. you haven’t noticed the way tom has been looking at you this whole time.
it’s like he wants to say something, but he’s biting his tongue.
harry shakes luke’s hand, then tom. he uses a firm grip paired with his signature lips pressed together smile. “good to meet you, man. what do you do again?” “i’m in journalism, so mostly chase people around all day.” tom clicks his tongue in a way that sounds like he approves. you’re not exactly sure what’s going through his head at the moment, but it seems to be good things so far.
“he’s just taking the piss. your writing is seriously amazing, luke. don’t downplay it.” you lean into the arm he outstretches across the back of the booth. he lets his hand move to your shoulder and pulls you in closer.
tom stares down at the floor. his leg bounces next to yours, one of his nervous habits you’ve become familiar with. picking up on his brother’s mood change, harry clears his throat to change the subject.
“let’s keep playing never have i ever. we were enjoying that earlier.” “great, i’ll go get everyone another round,” harrison volunteers himself and takes off for the bar. that was obviously his way of escaping the sudden awkwardness that came about.
you tap tom’s foot lightly with your own, making him look up at you. “doing okay over there?” “‘’m fine. my jetlag picked a bad time to act up, is all,” he lamely excuses himself and shifts the tiniest bit away from you.
you’ve seen jetlagged tom plenty of times, and this isn’t him. something else is clearly on his mind. you’d call him out on it and have a heart to heart, but it isn’t your place to do that anymore. you’re both still adjusting to the whole friends thing. it’s going to take time to get back to how close you were, especially with different boundaries in place.
harrison comes back with fresh beers and sets them down on the table. each of you grab one. tom immediately chugs half of his without bothering to wait for the game to continue. you’re not in the mood to watch him act like this, so you turn to face luke. that only encourages him to drink some more. harry is the one who steps in and pulls his bottle away.
“easy there, alcoholland. you gotta save some for when we play.” “right.” tom wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes already glossy. this isn’t how tonight was supposed to go.
“speaking of,” harrison starts, overly cheerful to make up for the way his friend is behaving. “it’s my turn.” “go for it,” you force a smile at him and swish the beer around in your glass. “this’ll definitely be good. never have i ever gone skinny dipping.”
the heat that rises to your cheeks gives you away before you can take a sip. with a shit-eating grin, tom snatches his beer out of harry’s hand. “gonna need this back, baby bro.” you shyly pick up your drink, tom and harrison being the only others who are guilty. harrison clinks his glass with yours, then you’re both gulping down your poison.
luke playfully raises his eyebrows at you when you’re finished. “i’m sorry, y/n, but i have to hear this story. you went skinny dipping?” cockiness absolutely oozing out of him, tom cuts in. “we went together, actually. i can help her tell this one.”
you spare everybody the explicit details of what happened, but it isn’t hard to guess them. tom is thankfully mature enough in the moment to not reveal much. now that luke knows the story, it feels like there’s tension between him and tom. he’s just too nice to let it show.
taking notes from tom, you impulsively finish off the rest of your drink in hopes of clearing your mind. you earn looks of concern from everyone except the man of the hour. he’s enjoying messing with you.
“that was a fun night, huh?” tom smirks at you. you close your eyes and rub your temples. sensing how off everything is, harrison leaves the table again to get you another drink. he sure has a talent for that.
you’re not sure why tom has to be such an ass tonight of all nights. you’ve already told him about you and luke before, actually he was the first person to know. he should’ve expected to meet him at some point. maybe then, his coping mechanism wouldn’t be getting drunk and making both of you look stupid.
“you okay?” luke nudges your shoulder with his hand. you give him a tight lipped smile. “yeah. sorry about all of that.” “no, it’s fine. i’m a big boy.” he glances over at tom, who’s poking harry’s cheek with a spoon. jesus christ.
harrison brings over another beer for you and a water for tom. you take your drink and push tom’s over to him. he decides to be immature and drops the spoon to switch your glasses. drunk tom is a child.
“are you serious right now? you need to learn when to cut yourself off.” you switch them again, taking a sip of your beer before tom can take it from you. he huffs and drinks his water like you said. you’re only doing this because you care about him. he’s probably too gone at the moment to understand that. if he’s going to think you’re a buzzkill for helping him out, oh well.
“so, babe,” luke makes a point to stress the word, “how about you do the next round of the game?” he leans into you again. you still haven’t taken your eyes off of tom.
“sure,” you agree absentmindedly. “um, never have i ever...” tom smiles lazily at you when he notices you’re looking at him. you forgot that drunk tom is also cute, but you’re not supposed to think that way anymore. not about him. you clear your throat. “never have i ever given myself a really bad hairstyle?”
everybody takes a drink this time, tom finishing his water. you’ve styled your hair in so many awful ways so many times, but only one comes to mind. it’s technically tom’s fault.
-
“come on, y/n/n, let me do it. i’ll even say please. please?” tom all but begs you for the third time. you look up at him from your phone to see him making puppy eyes at you. saying no to those is physically impossible.
you’ve been on hold with your hair salon for almost half an hour trying to make an appointment. they’re normally never this busy, but you really need to go. a person can only let their ends become so split.
for some reason, tom decided he wants to be a hairdresser today. he keeps offering to cut your hair for you instead. you’re not so sure you trust him with scissors, but he won’t stop asking about it unless you let him try. plus, this could be interesting.
you end the call with a sigh. perking up, tom grabs your hands. “so? that’s a yes?” “don’t make me regret this, tom.” he pulls you off the couch by your hands and leads you straight to the bathroom.
“should we wash it first? i think that’s what they do.” he turns on the sink, then goes into the shower to get your hair products. you lean back against the counter and watch him set up. you’re starting to feel kind of nervous about this. tom is usually good at everything he attempts, but something as permanent as a haircut, you’re not sure about.
“relax a bit, darling. you’ll be fine.” tom ruffles your hair with his fingers, making you crinkle your nose. “if it looks bad, no i won’t.” “it’s just hair.” he gets a towel off the rack and drapes it around your shoulders. you look at your hair in the mirror one more time, then lean back so your head is under the faucet. “you’re the one who uses a bottle of hair gel every day.”
“anyways,” you can hear the eye roll in tom’s voice. “let me know if the water’s too hot or too cold.” “nah, it’s good.” he opens your shampoo and squirts some into his hand. “see, i know what i’m doing.” you hum in response, tom’s fingers combing through your hair to make sure it’s wet enough.
you lift your head up from the water so tom can do the shampoo. it feels good, like you’re getting a massage but on your scalp. tom notices your small smile as he eases you down to rinse it out. “enjoying yourself?” you open an eye to see a smug look on his face. “for now, yeah.”
after all the shampoo is gone, tom starts with conditioner. he pulls all your hair to one side and runs through it with a brush a few times. you’re honestly impressed he knows what he’s doing. he must have learned from watching you do your own hair. he puts in the conditioner and twirls a loose strand of hair around his finger, letting it sit for a bit.
“i’ll admit it, you’re actually good at this,” you reach up and poke at his chest. tom pokes your cheek back, then gathers all of your hair again. “mm, thanks. you should let me do your hair for you more often.” “that’ll depend on if you can cut it.” with a chuckle, he lets the ends of your hair fall under the water again.
your hair all washed, tom helps you stand back up. he takes the towel from over your shoulders and uses it to scrunch your hair up. it falls over your face. you know he’s trying to do it so it stays in place, but that’s not what’s happening.
“i’ll do this part, babe,” you laugh to yourself and flip your head over. “pfft, yeah, i was totally gonna try that next,” tom jokes, searching through a drawer for scissors while you wrap your hair. he opens and closes them before dropping them on the counter.
“wanna sit? i don’t know how long this’ll take.” “oh, god. sure.” tom easily lifts you up by your waist and sits you on the counter. you giggle a little at the gesture. he’s full of surprises today. “there you are, m’lady. let’s get started.” he takes the towel off your head and squeezes your hair out with it one more time. pouting, you grab a few strands. “i’ll miss you guys so much.”
”stop it, i’m not even cutting that much off,” tom groans and stands in between your legs. you put your hands on his shoulders. “that’s the plan, but knowing you, you’ll end up giving me, like, a mohawk.” “you think i know how to do that?” your legs wrap around his waist, scooting yourself closer to the edge of the counter. “i hope not.”
tom wraps an arm around your waist and gives you a wicked smile. you probably should’ve asked him to section off your hair so he could cut it evenly, but it slipped your mind. he splits your hair in half the best he can and picks up the scissors. you’re facing him, so you can’t see what he’s about to do in the mirror.
“i’m gonna count to three, okay? one, two, three.” tom takes half of your hair and starts cutting it in a straight line, which is already a problem. it ends up creating this weird zigzag look that can’t be saved by just him. he realizes his mistake after he’s already holding your hair. “oh, shit..” he puts down the scissors and covers his mouth with his free hand. your eyes go wide. “what? what did you do?”
“i- i, um, we can fix it,” he tries, backing away before you freak out. you hop off the counter and turn around to see what happened. it’s long in the back and too short in the front. how did he mess up this bad in not even two minutes? you gasp and touch your disaster of a haircut.
“tom, what is this? it looks... i don’t even know what to say!” you spin back around, pointing at your half cut hair. he winces when he sees it again. “i’m so sorry, y/n/n. i thought-“ “no, you didn’t! you thought nothing! your mind literally must have been empty.” you sit on the floor with your head in your hands, tom crouching down in front of you.
“look at me, darling.” he puts a hand on your back. you scowl up at him. “it’s really not that bad. you’ll figure out a way to make this work.” “you’re so helpful,” you mumble, leaning your head forward so it’s resting on his chest. you’re being dramatic. he was trying to do something nice for you, and it’s not like this was on purpose. tom rubs circles on your back, you nuzzling your cheek into his shirt.
“should i leave the other side, or would that be worse?” “i can do it for you.” “absolutely not.”
-
“i could only wear my hair up for months because of you,” you laugh to tom, warming up to him again from the memory. he puffs some air out of his cheeks with a smile. “be happy you didn’t ask for bangs.” “that’s because i’d never be able to pull them off.” tom messes with your hair so it’s over your eyes, you pushing his hands away with a breathy laugh. “not true.”
luke shifts in his spot next to you to remind you he still exists. you glance over at him and move your hair out of your face. “um, what was yours?” “i dyed my hair orange once. ginger definitely isn’t my look,” he jokes. it seems like he’s just trying to compete with tom now. you muster up a small chuckle for him anyway.
“tom, you haven’t gone yet,” harry points out, picking up his glass. tom considers the fact for a second. “true, but it’s not much fun if i don’t get to drink. can i get another since i’m behaving?” he juts his bottom lip out at his brother. harrison lets out a long sigh. “mate, i really don’t feel like getting up again. take a break.”
you slide your beer over to tom without a second thought. “you can share mine.” he looks at you like you said something wild. “are you sure we should do that?” he’s clearly referring to luke and how he might take it. at this point, it doesn’t matter to you. luke has been acting off since you started playing, and you’re not going to let him ruin your time with your friends.
you shrug your shoulders and tap the glass. “i’m the one who suggested it. drink up.” he hesitates, but takes it.
“ok, never have i ever gotten kicked out of somewhere.” harrison shakes his head and harry rests his chin in his hand, bummed he can’t drink. luke raises his hands up in surrender. that leaves you and tom. you know exactly what he’s thinking about right now. he takes a sip of your beer and hands it back to you, you finishing off the rest of it.
-
tom brought you to a super fancy restaurant for date night. it’s one of those places that has their own dress code and mood lighting. here you are, sat across from him in your most uncomfortable pair of heels and picking at course three of your meal; a bland salad. tom isn’t thrilled with it either, so you don’t feel too bad.
you rarely get the chance to go out for dinners like this because of tom’s ever-growing schedule, so you’re giving this place a try to make up for it.
“i wanna ask if they have dressing, but i’m scared i’ll get yelled at,” you murmur to tom, stabbing a piece of lettuce with your fork. he bites his cheek. your look of disgust makes a giggle slip out of him. “try holding your breath so you don’t taste it,” tom suggests, fiddling with a button on his jacket to stall from eating.
you take a big gulp of water in hopes of cleansing your tastebuds. tom looks at you from over his cup, doing the same. it’s so hard to take this seriously. “i know you wanted to take me somewhere nice, baby, but this kinda sucks.” you whisper the last part. “you’re right. i’ve heard great things about their dessert, though.”
“we’d find out if they didn’t take five years to serve us every course,” you laugh a little too loud at your own joke. an older woman with diamonds around her neck shoots you a glare. tom finally cracks, joining in your laughter over the situation. your waiter comes back at that moment, and he’s less than pleased by the behavior from both of you.
“is everything okay over here?” he asks sharply. “we’re, uh, we’re fine. thank you,” tom hides his laugh with a cough and makes an overly serious face. your waiter places a check on the table. “we didn’t ask for this yet,” you tell him politely. “i’ve heard several complaints about you two throughout your meal, so i’m going to have to ask you to leave.” he explains, handing you a pen to sign the check.
tom’s fake serious face is now a real serious face.
“you can’t-“ “let us pay for what we had, and we’ll be on our way.” you take tom’s arm from across the table. he would’ve pulled the ‘do you know who i am?’ card without you stopping him. your waiter walks away and goes to serve someone else.
“i can’t believe they’re kicking us out. this is so unfair,” tom complains, but gets out his wallet. he grabs the pen from you to take care of everything. “to be fair, we were being pretty annoying. we didn’t even like our food,” you try to reason.
tom does his signature and leaves money on the table. he’s going to be sulking about this the rest of the night. you stand up with your arm still linked in his and walk him over to the exit. he squeezes you closer to him on your way to the car.
“that was disappointing,” tom speaks again once you’re in the car. he rests a hand on your thigh. you put yours on top of his. “and funny. the only thing is, i’m still hungry.” “yeah? how about we go for burgers?”
you’re in the mcdonald’s parking lot eating your second dinner not too much later. it’s a lot better than your first. your heels are kicked off, your feet on the dashboard while you and tom eat and listen to your favorite songs.
tom steals one of your fries and shoves it in his mouth, sticking his tongue out at you after. that earns him a flick from you. “you have your own fries, weirdo!” “yours taste better somehow. here, i’ll trade you.” he lifts the bun off his burger so you can have his pickles. he knows you so well.
“can i tell you something?” tom asks all of a sudden. you stop eating and turn down the radio with a nod. “i know this isn’t as cool as fine dining, but i’m happy we get to have these moments together. wish they could last a little longer,” tom admits to you while staring out the window. you bring his hand up to your lips and kiss it.
“i’ve had so much fun tonight, and every night i spend with you. i don’t care about some gross rich people food. the only thing that matters is is being together, okay?” tom grins at your words, then leans forward and presses his lips to yours. it’s a short but sweet kiss. it’s a kiss that says the words he doesn’t have. “love you, y/n. thank you.” “i love you.”
-
you and tom are doubled over, giggling like kids with your heads bent together. you’re both pretty buzzed from your drink. you try to get yourself together, but he makes eye contact with you and you bust into another fit of laughter. even harry and harrison join in. it’s nice to finally have all of you getting along.
“i think it’s time to head out,” luke announces, moving to get up from the booth. you turn to him and wipe under your eyes. “oh, ok. i’ll text you later?” “you’re not coming?” he sounds more bitter than surprised. “i’m gonna get a ride back with tom when he’s ready to drive. it’s too early for me.”
luke fully sits himself back down and places his almost full glass in front of tom. all the boys are looking at you, but you have no idea what‘s happening. “why’d you do that?” you ask just to him. “i’ve changed my mind. i’m staying for another round of the game.”
you have a bad feeling about whatever he’s going to say. he’s been salty about you and tom all night, as if he didn’t know you’re still friends. it’s not like him at all. not the him you thought you knew, anyway.
“never have i ever,” luke intentionally directs the question at tom, “broken up with the most amazing girl so i could make shitty movies and fuck models. i wonder who’s done that.”
everyone stays silent. you could swear you’ve just been knocked sober. tom gets up from the table without a word, not bothering to wait for harry and harrison to move. he ignores them telling him not to go and steps over them. he’s out the nearest exit of the pub before anyone can stop him. you want to go after him, but you’re stuck in the middle of the booth.
your ‘boyfriend’ put his jealousy before your feelings for the last time tonight.
“what the fuck, luke?”
-
“are you sure you have everything? you remembered all your stuff from security?” you hold tom’s hand impossibly tighter as you get close to his gate.
he leaves today to film cherry in the states. you’re dropping him off at the airport like you always do, but something feels different about this time. it seems like a more permanent goodbye.
“mhm, it’s all here.” tom squeezes your hand back. you stop walking when you reach the sign that has his gate number on it. this is it. the last time you’ll see him for who knows how long? he stands his suitcase up off to the side and moves so he’s in front of you.
his arms are around your neck now, hugging you so close. you wind your arms around him so there’s no space between you two. he rests his chin on your shoulder, letting out a breath. “gonna miss you so much, baby. fuck, i hate this.” “it’s okay, tom. we’ve done it before. we’ll be okay.” you’re trying to convince yourself and him.
he pulls back from you and holds you by your waist. you stay flush against his chest, grabbing on to his hoodie. you don’t trust yourself to look at him right now.
“y/n, i can’t keep doing this to you,” tom says into your ear, his voice oddly steady for such a big thing to say. “doing what? you mean your job?” your fingers play with his hoodie strings. “i’ll be fine. i always am.” “that’s the thing. i don’t want you to just be fine all the time.” he can’t be saying what you think he is. you shake your head against him.
“you should be happy. it’s not fair that i make you settle for less.” “tom, stop.” you move off of him completely, your throat getting tight. “we’ve already talked about this. you do make me happy, even if it’s from another country sometimes. i don’t care.” he takes your hand again.
“this is something i’ve been thinking about for a while, honestly. it’ll be good for both of us.” “i- what are you trying to say?” tears are already clouding your vision. tom lets go of you. “we need to break up, y/n.”
you can feel your entire heart shatter into millions of tiny little pieces. this isn’t happening. not now. not ever. he’s not leaving you so easy.
you’re crying in the middle of the airport for everyone to see, and tom isn’t too far behind you. “i thought you loved me,” you manage to get out. tom chokes back his tears and wipes yours instead, his thumbs running over your cheeks. “i do, angel. i love you so much that it’s hurting me to say goodbye.” “then why can’t we make it work? please,” you lean into his touch for probably the last time.
“because you deserve more. i’m away all the time, and there are things i can’t give you. you deserve someone who’s here for everything.” tom’s fingers trail down to grab your chin gently, you looking up at him with bloodshot eyes.
“i want more for you, y/n.” “i have you. that’s all i want, tom.” neither of you say anything for a good minute. tom almost gives in, you can see it. you whimper when he grabs the handle of his suitcase instead.
“this is because i love you. i... i need you to understand that.” his voice is soft. you wish he could’ve done this way earlier since he was planning on it. “it’s all happening so fast.” tears are dripping down your cheeks and chin. you want to reach for tom, but there’s no point. his mind is made up. an announcement plays through the airport that tom’s flight is boarding.
“i really don’t wanna leave you like this, but i have to go. i’ll call you after i land, okay?” who are you to stop him now? “o- okay. be safe.” tom presses a kiss to your forehead, letting it linger for a few seconds. he puts his hood up and turns around. you watch him walk to his gate. this is the first time he’s left you without looking back.
you start making your way to the parking lot as soon as he’s gone. it takes everything in you not to scream and sob the whole way back. none of this feels right. if you both still love each other, you should be together.
after the longest walk of your life, you get back to your car. you break down all over again.
-
“i’m trying to help you, y/n. it seems like you forgot what he put you through,” luke scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest. you can’t believe how he’s acting. “let’s talk about this somewhere else. sorry, guys,” you smile awkwardly at harrison and harry. harry waves you off. “it’s okay. we understand.”
luke gets out of the booth, you following behind and leading him over to an empty corner in the pub. your smile fades. “that was fucked up, luke. we didn’t end things for his career. you know that.” “not officially, but it definitely helped.” does he not realize how crappy that sounds? like you were holding him back?
“you’re wrong. i told you exactly what happened. everything you’re saying is some weird story you made up in your head.” “then he should’ve said that for himself.” you throw your hands up in the air. “you made him fucking uncomfortable! i would’ve left, too.” luke laughs bitterly. “he’s really good at that, you know. leaving.”
“he did it because he loves me. fuck you for joking about it, like it wasn’t something that took me a really long time to get over. it’s sad that my past makes you jealous.” there’s a beat of silence before luke says anything. “do you still love him, y/n?” you both already know the answer. “well?” “yeah. yeah, i do.” you push past him and go out the door tom left from. luke doesn’t bother following.
you’re ready to start searching for tom, but he ends up being right outside. he’s leaning against the side of the building. his head snaps up when the door opens. “didn’t mean to scare you.” you walk over to him. he sniffles and shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “‘s alright. rather you than someone else.” “tom, i’m-“ “don’t apologize.”
“i have to. the things luke said to you were really gross, and i hate that i didn’t stop him.” you take a step closer to him. “you couldn’t have predicted anything he said.” tom gives you a tight lipped smile. “he’s... not the kind of person i thought he was.” “he’s a bit of a dick, to be honest.” you giggle a little at that. you’re just relieved tom isn’t taking this too hard.
“so, he didn’t pass the friends test. i guess that’s okay since things are kind of over between us.” tom finally meets your eyes, furrowing an eyebrow. “why? what happened?” “i cursed him out. said some pretty mean stuff.” he holds out an arm for you. you let him put it around you, instantly settling into his warmth. you’ve needed this.
“you can do better. he seemed too boring for you, anyway.” you shrug your shoulders with a small smile. “i wanted to talk to you about that. i’m not really sure how to say this, so i’ll just... say it.” tom’s heart is beating so fast you can feel it next to you. “yeah?”
you turn to face him, his arm still around you. “i haven’t stopped loving you. this is bad timing because you’re about to go film uncharted, and it’s out of no where, but i thought i should tell you. it might not mean anything now-“ “come with me.” you’re both shocked by each other’s words. you laugh in disbelief, tom nodding to urge you to say yes.
“for real? you want me to go?” “i wanna work on us, and i’m not making you wait any longer. i was stupid for ever giving up. we can figure everything out, and it would only be for the summer-“ now it’s your turn to cut him off, your lips crashing into his. his eyes flutter closed as he kisses you back. he grabs your arms and both of you pull back to catch your breath.
tom kisses you again, this time softer. you smile against his lips. “god, i’ve missed doing that. i really, really love you, y/n.” “i really love you, tom.”
and just like that, he put the pieces of your heart back together.
#tom holland#tom holland smut#tom holland fluff#tom holland fic#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#tom holland blurb#tom holland angst#peter parker#peter parker fluff#peter parker smut#peter parker imagine#marvel#mcu#spiderman#tom holland imagine#tom holland fanfiction
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I know you don't usually write PRU stuff, but if you ever feel inclined, here's a ficlet idea! so: Newt is trying to fight off the Precursors by constantly reminding himself that He Is Human. but whenever newt thinks about what makes him Feel Human, the answer is always hermann. so newt starts conjuring up vivid mental images of hermann (doing mundane, hermann-y things) to ward off the Precursors. bonus point if, like, newt fondly remembering smth innocuous (like the scent of Hermann's chalk dust?) is enough to actually sever the alien mind control.
Anonymous asked: Maria!!! Would you ever write an angsty post uprising prompt? Or even a pre uprising? Anything with Newt fucking around with Kaiju and being sad i am HERE FOR 👏
in honor of the sequel’s 3 year anniversary, let’s try something a little different 👀 THIS ONE GOT AWAY FROM ME RE: LENGTH....I'll leave it up to interpretation whether or not the bonus is wholly fulfilled.... also on proofing this I realized it might need content warnings? so vague refs to disordered eating and alcohol drinking (ie, newt’s body is inhabited by aliens who forget how human stuff works)
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Honestly, Newt’s life has been kind of a shitshow lately. He’s too, like, high strung. Too many responsibilities. Not enough hours in the day to get that shit done. He’s even higher strung than he was during the war, which is nuts, because certain doom was lurking around every corner. Maybe that’s why it’s not that nuts, though. The war was chaotic—and Newt’s fueled (or, used to be fueled?) by chaos. The kaiju were unpredictable. The kaiju didn’t run on a 9-5 schedule. The kaiju didn’t expect Newt to have three new jaeger prototypes on their desk by noon on a fucking Saturday, which is usually the day Newt spends two hours in his expensive bath tub and drinks a nice bottle of wine, and definitely not a day he wants to spend giving himself a stress migraine and shouting at underlings to make themselves useful. On top of that, his usual cafe got his coffee order wrong—when Newt had to run in to get it, himself, on a Saturday morning—and it only had half the espresso shots he really needs for the day. No wonder he’s going grey at forty. Fucking nightmare. Stable employment is exactly the kind of chaos that’s bad for Newt—give him the kaiju any day, thanks.
“Dr. Geiszler?”
Newt pushes his sunglasses up, and scowls at whichever one of his employees has dared to interrupt his catnap. The fluorescent overheads are brutal on his poor eyes right now. The lab needs more natural lighting. Maybe if he complains, they’ll knock out some walls in put in a few more windows. “Did you find any Aspirin?” he says.
Wordlessly, Newt’s assistant passes him a bottle. Newt pops the cap off and takes at least four. The coffee he washes it down with is cold. “How are the last simulations coming along?” he says, flicking his sunglasses back down. He seems to have so many migraines these days. It’s the contact lenses, he thinks—making the switch over from frames so late in the game. Screwing with his perceptions. Newt went thirty years with frames, after all. “We only have two hours before—”
“We’re almost done,” his assistant cuts in. “We’re working as fast as we can, Dr. Geiszler.”
“But are we gonna make the deadline?” Newt says.
She fidgets, and moves her clipboard to her other arm. “Well—we’ve had some—issues.”
Newt stands up with a long sigh. Double overtime, probably. Sunday lost to this shit too. That new bottle of wine waiting for him on his kitchen counter bought for nothing. “Gotta do everything myself, huh? Unbelievable.”
He follows his assistant over to the main lab down the hall, where his team of j-techs are hurrying around. Hardly anyone in proper lab attire—no labcoats—someone in sweatpants—Newt wasn’t the only one who had his Saturday ruined, probably. No one else is going grey, though. “What’s this shit?” he says, stopping in his tracks with one foot through the doorway. The high-tech holo-smartboards have been pushed aside, and instead, someone’s wheeled in a huge…chalkboard.
“Technical issues,” his assistant says. “The other floors are having the same problem—something in the new interface update that downloaded last night, we think. They’re all out of commission. Technology is working on it, but for now, we had to pull that out of deep storage.”
Two of his scientists are scrawling across the board quickly—one with white chalk, the other with pink. They’re debating something in hushed tones. Newt hasn’t seen a chalkboard in years. It doesn’t fit with Shao Industry’s whole chic, sleek, futuristic aesthetic. So—bulky. And messy. “Of course it would happen today of all days,” Newt sighs. The sight of it makes him feel odd, and he can’t seem to drag himself any further into the lab and any closer towards it.
His assistant says something. Newt doesn’t hear—he’s listening, instead, to the squeaking of chalk across the blackboard. So noisy and obnoxious. It reminds him of years and years ago, of working in a grimy little basement, of…
“—look it over. Dr. Geiszler?”
“Hm?” Newt says. It was like a layer of fog had begun to lift from his thoughts, but the interruption sends it rolling right back in.
“I said we’re ready for you to look it over. Only if you want too, of course,” she adds, nervously.
“Uh-huh,” Newt says.
Newt’s never had anyone fear him before, not like his employees seem to fear him—he’s not sure he likes it. His scientists shut up the second he looms over (well—under, Newt’s never loomed over anyone in his life) their shoulders to inspect their work so far. The squeaking stops. One of them lowers their piece of chalk. “Wait,” Newt says, too-loudly, surprising them and himself. They both look at him with the same nervousness as his assistant, like he’s about to start shouting or something. “Keep doing that.”
“Keep…?”
“Writing,” Newt says. “On the chalkboard.”
The scientist frowns at him. “Um, okay,” she says. “What am I supposed to write?”
“Anything,” Newt says. “Seriously. Anything.”
She hesitates.
“Anything,” Newt repeats.
She picks up the white chalk, and writes out her name, then doodles a few random pictures—a DNA helix, a flower, a cat face, a star. Newt shuts his eyes, and breathes in deeply. That smell. He snags the forgotten piece of pink chalk from the ledge. “Can I have this?” he says. He doesn’t wait for them to respond—though they both nod yes frantically, and bewilderedly—before writing out his own name on the board. Dr. Geiszler. It looks wrong, so he writes Newt beneath it. He shuts his eyes, and writes Newt again. Why does he feel like he’s done this sort of thing before? This thing is ancient—before his time at Shao—he wouldn’t have used it before they carted off to the basement. Newt, Newt, Newt Was Here,he writes, Newt +, and then he stops.
He opens his eyes. “Who’s Hermann?” his assistant says.
Newt + Hermann. Newt didn’t realize he wrote it. “Someone I knew,” he says, faintly. “Years ago. He was my—” He swallows. He feels strange. “My colleague?”
Strange. Dizzy. The Aspirin isn’t working. Definitely the contact lenses. He could afford laser eye surgery now, if he wanted, maybe he should look into it. He grips the ledge of the chalkboard, swaying, and grits his teeth; his two scientists back away from him slowly, no doubt worried he’s about to hurl all over their shoes. He might, to be honest. Newt + Hermann. Hermann was his colleague. Hermann was his— “Are you feeling okay, Dr. Geiszler?” his assistant asks. “You look…”
“Tell Shao I’m taking the rest of the day off,” Newt says.
“What?”
“You guys got this shit handled without me,” Newt says. He pockets the chalk. “I’m not—I’m not feeling myself. I think I need to go home and lie down. Seriously, you’ve got it under control—all these numbers look, uh, good, I trust you. If you guys don’t get it finished you can just tell Shao it’s my fault, okay?”
She gapes at him. “Uh,” she says. “Okay?”
Newt doesn’t go home. He goes to the nearest shop he can find instead, and makes a beeline for the art supplies aisle. Only a few boxes of chalk in stock. Four multicolored, two all-white, one yellow. He drops them all into his basket but the yellow, which he rips opens and immediately smells. Newt + Hermann. Hermann always smelled like chalk dust—he always had a fine layer of it on his clothing, patches of it on his blazer, his sweatervest, even on his undershirt. Newt used to tease him for that. He closes his eyes, and breathes in again. Funny—all those baths, all those bottles of wine, and this stupid little box of chalk is what’s finally making him feel calm for once. Quieting down his brain. He didn’t realize how loud it’d gotten in there. When Hermann would kiss Newt, he would sometimes stain Newt’s clothing with chalk, too, and Newt would pretend to be annoyed, but he never really was.
Someone is speaking to him. An employee. They’re staring at him, a cautious distance away, and Newt’s not sure what they’re saying.
His vision’s gone blurry—he didn’t realize he’d started crying, either. He wipes his eyes on the cuff of his blazer and sniffles. “Sorry,” he says. The box of yellow chalk is wet. “Um. Do you have any more of these in the back?”
He takes the bus home for the first time in years, one hand stuffed in his little brown shopping bag the whole time, wrapped around a box of chalk. When he gets back to his apartment (his big, lonely, apartment), he pulls out the only food in his fridge—some leftovers from a Shao Industries event three nights ago—and settles down on his big, lonely couch. He can’t stop thinking about Hermann. Five or so years, maybe more, not thinking about Hermann, and now suddenly—it’s like the floodgates have opened. He thinks about Hermann’s haircut. (Bad.) He thinks about Hermann’s smile. (Silly, and sweet.) He thinks about Hermann’s dumb accent, and the clack of Hermann’s cane on the floor, and Hermann’s chalk squeaking over his chalkboard, and how it felt when Hermann would wrap him in his arms and kiss him and whisper things to him. Hermann’s sweaters always smelled like mothballs and stale cigarette smoke. Terrible combination.
Newt’s stomach growls. He’s finished the small bit of leftovers without realizing, and is apparently still hungry. He would kill for some sushi takeout right now. Or pizza, God. Yeah, it’d be screwing with his new diet and fitness plan—he casts a guilty glance over at his brand new exercise bike, which is gathering dust in the corner by his TV—but he’s tired of doing stupid kale and juice cleanses or whatever, just to please—well. He’s only human.
He is?
He walks up the stairs to his bathroom, and stares at himself in the mirror. Stupid vest. Stupid tie. Neat hair, clean-shaven cheeks, contact lenses. Newt’s only human. “I’m human,” he tells his reflection. Is he human? He felt human standing by that old chalkboard back in the lab, and holding that box of yellow chalk in the aisle of that little shop. He felt human when he was remembering things. Because of—Newt blinks at himself. Because of whom?
“Hermann,” he says, and smiles at the way the name makes him feel. He should text him, maybe.
-------------
“I must say,” Hermann says, “I was quite surprised when I received your dinner invitation. You’ve done a rather fine job of ignoring my calls as of late. I’d thought— Ah, thank you,” he adds, as Newt holds the door open for him. He steps into Newt’s apartment and cranes his neck around, squinting curiously, and then shoves a bottle of red wine at Newt’s chest. Hermann is much more personable than Newt remembers—what little Newt remembers—and he wonders if it’s age or something else. “I’ve been holding onto this one for a while. It’s the one you gave me as a part of a gift for my thirty-seventh birthday—you remember? Oh, but isn’t it so terrifically, er, modern in here.”
“Is it?” Newt says. He’s never given much thought to his apartment before, but he stares around at it now in mild interest. It is very chic, isn’t it? Monochrome. Impersonal. Not something Newt would’ve picked for himself. “Yeah, I had some interior decorators come in and do it for me.”
Hermann arches an eyebrow. “How…”
“Modern,” Newt offers. He puts the bottle of wine on his marble kitchen island. “Thanks for this, by the way, but I’ve actually been trying to cut back on the—” He bites back drinking. No need to alarm Hermann. “—Calories, so if it’s cool with you I’d rather not open it. I’m doing a, um, a new fitness program.”
“Ah,” Hermann says. “I suppose that explains that, then, doesn’t it?” He points at the dusty exercise bike. Newt watches his gaze move from that, to the barren leather couch, to the short staircase which leads to Newt’s shut bedroom door. Newt can practically see the gears working in his head. “Will—ah, what was their name, that little flight of fancy of yours—a dalliance, one might say—will they be, ah, joining the two of us?” He looks at Newt out of the corner of his eye. “Alice, was it?”
“Who?” Newt says, blankly.
Hermann breaks out in a broad grin, which he quickly tries, very badly, to turn into a sympathetic frown. He pats Newt’s arm. “There’s the spirit, then, Newton! All in the past, I presume? Hardly any use in dwelling on a broken heart. Then again—it’s not as if you were together long enough to warrant those sorts of dramatics, were you?” he says, cheerily. “What I mean is—certainly it wasn’t as if you had any sort of deep or emotional connection with—?—oh, I’ve forgotten the name again.”
“Uh,” Newt says. He’s not really sure who Hermann’s talking about, but just based on that fact alone, he would assume Hermann is right. “I guess not?”
“Precisely as I expected,” Hermann says, with a satisfied nod. “Rotten grounds for a relati—for a fling. You deserve far better, Newton.” Hermann touches Newt’s arm again, and this time, he doesn’t move his hand. It makes Newt’s skin prickle pleasantly. “You look well these days, though I admit it’s a bit of a shock to see you without your glasses,” Hermann continues, flicking his eyes up and down Newt twice. He lingers on Newt’s left hand, over the bare spot where—until this morning, when he suddenly realized how stupid it looked and yanked it off—he was wearing that Elvis ring. “Ending things must be treating you kindly. I don’t suppose I could dash to your loo?”
“Loo?” Newt says. “Oh, right. Yeah, it’s that door there, right off the living room.” He drops down onto the leather couch. “Knock yourself out. I’ll be right here.”
Hermann disappears into Newt’s bathroom, and comes back out three minutes later with combed hair, a straightened collar, and the vague smell of cologne. He’s tucking a small bottle into his top pocket. “I found a box of hair dye in your medicine cabinet,” he declares, smugly. “I knew there was no bloody way that was natural. Though I’m not surprised it fooled Alice.” He rests his cane against the glass coffee table and sits down next to Newt. Right next to Newt. The whole sofa to pick from, and he’d rather their thighs touch. Newt doesn’t mind—actually, the contact is strangely grounding, like Hermann’s hand on his arm had been earlier. He’s here, in his living room, with Hermann, his friend Hermann, his colleague Hermann, his—well, question mark—Hermann.
“Hermann, can I ask you something?” he says. “Something important?”
“By all means,” Hermann says, leaning in and fluttering his eyelashes. Even over the cologne, Newt can still make out that mothball-chalk-smoke smell.
“Do you take your coffee with sugar?” he says.
Hermann laughs. “Do I—what?”
Newt repeats the question. The smile slips off Hermann’s face, and he draws away, furrowing his eyebrows. “Well,” he says, “yes, usually, only I’m not sure what—”
“Sugar, and some milk,” Newt says. “It was the same with your tea. And you had a mug that you would use—you wouldn’t use any other. It was blue, and it said—” He exhales through his nose. “It said TU Berlin. That’s where you got your PhD.”
After Newt sent Hermann a text about dinner last night, he sat down with a pen and pad of paper and made a list of everything he could remember about Hermann. He started with what Hermann looks like, and who Hermann is, and then moved into the harder stuff like what Hermann likes and the sort of things Hermann used to do. He stayed up all night doing it, until his hand cramped and his head hurt even more than it had that morning, and then recited it over and over to himself in a whisper as he fell asleep. Hermann has brown eyes. Hermann likes blackberry jam on his toast. Hermann wears little glasses on a chain. Hermann uses a cane with a tiny little nick in the brass of the handle. The list is in his pocket now; it makes Newt feel calm, and even calmer when he reaches into his pocket and touches it. He exhales again, hard, and then inhales. “We were together,” he says. “When we closed the Breach, you told me you loved me.”
“I did,” Hermann says, quietly.
“I said it back,” Newt says.
Hermann nods.
Slowly, Newt reaches out and puts his hand over Hermann’s. Hermann makes a strange noise in the back of his throat—like a sigh, or maybe a groan. His pulse twitches erratically under Newt’s fingertips. “I bought chalk,” Newt says.
“You—” Hermann echoes, his voice choked. “You bought chalk?”
“It reminded me of you,” Newt says.
He’s not surprised when Hermann kisses him, but he is surprised at his knee-jerk reaction: to pull away, or push Hermann away, and to order him to get out of his apartment. He’s surprised, because those aren’t his thoughts. He doesn’t want Hermann to leave—he wants Hermann to stay longer, and kiss him more, and help him remember more. “Oh, Newton,” Hermann says. “Newton, Newton—” He moves his mouth to Newt’s neck, kissing, breathing, and whispering his name, and Newt shuts his eyes and forces himself to remember his list.
“Tell me things about you,” Newt begs. “I want to remember you.”
Hermann’s laughter, hesitant and confused, comes out in a puff of hot air against his skin. “Remember me?” he says. “I’m not sure— Are we not a bit—?”
“Hermann,” Newt says.
He grips the back of Hermann’s sweater, digging his nails in Hermann’s skin through the layers of fabric. Hermann must hear the urgency in his voice, because he shakes his head with another laugh, kisses Newt’s jaw, and says, “Well, alright. What am I even meant to tell you?”
“Your favorite color,” Newt says. Hermann kisses his chin. “Your favorite song. No, wait—” He nudges Hermann away from him, just enough so that Hermann can see him smile. “Tell me what you like about me.”
“Feeling rather egotistical tonight, aren’t we?” Hermann teases. He reaches out and brushes his fingers through the side of Newt’s hair. One of the spots Newt dyed—it was too grey. He catches Hermann’s hand by the wrist and pulls it away gently, but only to press himself up against Hermann’s chest instead. He can feel Hermann’s heartbeat. “I like—hm,” Hermann says. “I like your stubbornness. I like your passion. I like…”
His voice vibrates in his throat—Newt can feel that, too. He listens.
#newmann#maria's fanfiction tag#if Alice was a real person her picture would be on Hermann's dartboard#it probably is anyway#Anonymous
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Masterlist
Heya! Thank you for visiting! I will post all of my writings here, so please feel free to browse at your leisure.
If you want to send in a request, please feel free to do so, unless my blog description says requests are closed. If they are indeed closed and you wish to send something in anyway, you are very welcome to do so! I may or may not get to it though I will try my best.
__________________________________________
Levi Ackerman
Fics
Train Pt 1
All My Choices - “All my choices lead to you” prompt
Hot and Cold - He would compliment you one moment, and hurt you the next
Just a Drink - Someone came to hit on you at the bar...
Nothing More - You and him were friends with benefits...and nothing more? NSFW
Remember - You succumb to the thoughts in your head, and he’s there to remind you
Monster - “Why do you have to make me into a monster?” prompt
Snow - You get lost in blizzard and Levi is worried sick
By Your Side - What happens when your cheesy pickup line loving self gets paired with a handsome bodyguard?
Education - You are a poc, and somehow the world will not leave you alone
Counting the Days - Levi just wants to do the do, but his son gets in the way. NSFW
Bows - “I just wanted to be pretty for you”
Carry a Tune - (LawyerAU) Levi gets jealous.
Never - He broke up with you out of the blue
Alleged Allergies - (LawyerAU) Levi and your cat adoption adventures
Fish - You’re feeding your baby and Levi couldn’t be more supportive
What More Could You Ask For - You and Levi with your kids on a beautiful morning
I Miss Her Too - Your best friend was gone. How could you ever heal?
Tease - (LawyerAU) You have to entertain an important client for the firm...your boyfriend is NOT pleased
Pep Talk - Hanji’s messy cat comes over to meet your cat...what could go wrong?
Next to You - He opens his eyes, and sees you, fast asleep.
Never Expected - He breaks up with you, but you loved him so much. So why?
For the Night - You met his eyes from across the club. Memories that weren't your own swirled in your head. One night of passion ensued. NSFW
Treading Water - You fall into the water after a titan attack. You can’t swim.
Poopyhead - You and Levi’s darling son goes missing one day
The Sham - You were arranged to married to Levi. It was a sham.
Your Touch - Levi was so so stressed, so you do what you can to help him
Uprising - You loved him so much, but the moment never seemed right
Someone You Loved - He watched as you fell out of love with him
I Wish - Him and you were over months ago. What more could he have to say?
You Weren’t There - You were missing in action for weeks. No way you were still alive. Right?
Mergers and Accusations - (Lawyer AU) Your boyfriend couldn't have leaked your confidential files...could he?
The Mop Job - Levi, Isabel, and Farlan and Levi’s broken ankle
Where You Belong - You and Levi were expecting. So what happens when one of you loses their memory?
A Matter of Time - It was only a matter of time before one of you caught feelings
Hold On - There was nothing you wouldn’t do for your sister...who also happened to be Levi’s girlfriend.
Dibs - You sought out Levi for comfort after a breakup
Mirrors - You felt insecure in your body. Levi comforts you
Pumpkin - You tell Levi you’re pregnant against a gorgeous fall background
His Touch - You have a phobia of intimacy, and you thought you were ready to try something new
You Never Liked Her - You stood by Levi through it all. What about your own feelings?
Stressed - You were so stressed over exams, and Levi helps you out
Pet - You were a high ranking demon. And then you met him
Treading Water 2 - he was so glad to have you back and he wanted to show you (tiny bit spicy)
About Damn Time - the other vets act as ScoutWingmen because you and Levi were taking too long
Pointe - Levi finds you alone in the mess hall in the middle of the night. Dancing?
Zoom - the 104th kiddos see a cat...in two zoom calls?
How Many Times? - how many times does Levi have to ask you to be his?
Diamonds - (MafiaAU) Fluff/angst
Just a Trim - haircut with Levi drabble
Whirlybird - domestic drabble
Moot - LawyerAU, nsfw | watching Levi demolish opposing counsel made you feel a certain way...
Headcanons
- Levi’s Ideal s/o - kinda turned imagine/scenario, some nsfw
- Levi with a Med&Science s/o
- Levi with s/o with eating disorder - tw eating disorder mention
- Levi with a s/o who has a fear of intimacy
- Levi with a s/o who cries after sex - mention of past trauma, fluff, kinda nsfw
- Levi with a s/o who is RIPPED
- Cheater!Levi with a badass s/o
- Cheater!Levi with a badass s/o PT2
- Levi when his s/o has a miscarriage (tw)
- Levi with a smaller male s/o
- Levi with a s/o with narcolepsy
- Levi with a smaller bratty male sub! s/o NSFW
- Awkward sub!Levi in a relationship - SFW, fluffy af
- Levi when he meets another full Asian girl
- Levi slow dancing with you
- Levi with a dom!male reader
- Levi with a s/o who looks like an angel but is kinda the devil
- Levi with a s/o who likes to laugh/tell jokes
THIRSTY THURSDAYS - NSFW AF Y’ALL. 18+!!!!!!!!
#1 - oral reader receiving | You just wanted to try sitting on his face...
#2 - first time, smut, choking kink | You waited for him to be your first
#3 - Sub!Levi, tied up, slapping | He wanted to prove he could take orders
#4 - Dom!Levi, jealous/possessive, edging | You spent time with Erwin?
#5 - Waxplay, sensation play, edging, dom-ish Levi | You wanted to try this...
#6 - Omegaverse, ModernAU | Your heat was coming and the sauna helped
#7 - Dirty talk, modern AU | You just wanted to watch the dang movie
#8 - Pegging, prostate stimulation, sub!Levi | You wanted to try something...
#9 - public sex, oral, dirty talk | A fun time in the waterpark changeroom
#10 - dirty talk, sex, modernAU | You wanted him to do more than just your taxes
#11 - bathtub sex | Levi saw you training cadets...and oops you’re hot
#12 - Modern AU, dirty talk, name calling, domlevi | You were worried Levi wasn't enjoying himself
#13 - hurt/comfort, comfort sex, fluff | After the [redacted] Levi was worried you were avoiding him
#14 - jealous/possessive dom!Levi, rough sex, choking, slapping | You got a little carried away squealing over your favourite actor...
#15 - MIKE X READER - daddy kink, size kink | no plot just fucking Mike while calling him daddy
#16 - oral female receiving | He was too busy to give you attention...
#17 - older!reader (31) x Levi (25). No kinks just sex | it had been so long since you were with someone...then you met him
#18 - public-ish sex | you and him were friends with benefits for years. But one day, beneath the stars and against the wall...
#19 - oral, slight voyeurism | you, in a dress. Him under the table...what could go wrong?
#20 - oral, vaginal sex, slight voyeurism | you and levi get walked in on
#21 - touchstarved Levi | just sex no kinks, fluffy
#22 - Eren x Reader, modern AU, soft + sweet, no kinks, fluff
Multi - Chaptered
Abeille: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
Not Levi
Sneakers - Annie x fem!reader - Annie goes to the mall to get a pair of sneakers...what she didnt expect to find was you
She - Mikasa x fem!reader - You just loved her so much. But she...
#levi x reader#snk levi#levi ackerman#levixreader#masterlist#snk#levi snk#snk x reader#levi ackerman snk#aot#aot fanfiction#shingeki no kyojin#shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction#levi ackerman fic#levi imagine
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Is it possible that you write a fic where Robbe is feeling a bit frustrated as Sander found new friends at school, and he spends a lot more times with them now, maybe too much as he starts getting late at some of their dates? Bonus point if one of his friends doesn't like robbe that much and Robbe knows it?
Part 1 - hint of dirty talking, but it’s really a hint, if you blink you might miss it
It’s been five days. Yeah, Robbe is actually doing a countdown. He doesn’t really have to, based on the number of times he checks his phone to see the day and the amount of time he goes to Sander’s Instagram or their conversation.
He’s been trying to be patient and understands he brought this upon himself, but it doesn’t make it less painful. The cold shoulder behavior he’s been receiving for the past...well, five days. Robbe is ignoring all of it, still texting Sander all day long like he would if they were talking.
to Sander: I think I got a good grade on today’s test. I hope I did, don’t feel like studying anymore.
Hope you’re having fun <3 I miss you
You would laugh at me if you were seeing this. I tried making that pasta you taught me. I mean...it’s eatable so that’s good?
My mom said it’s delicious and for me to thank you for teaching the recipe. But she’s my mom so I can’t take her word for it, I think it turned out okay
He stares at his screen, bitting the corner of his bottom lip, his arms a little tired from being up in the air, holding his phone for so long, rereading the messages he sent today. He types the last one for the night.
to Sander: I’m going to bed now, wishing you were with me. I love you <3
And he puts his phone on airplane mode, checking his alarm for the next morning before putting his phone down on the nightstand, far away enough that he can’t reach easily if he decides to text Sander in the middle of the night, asking to talk just to be ignored one more time.
He hasn’t been sleeping well, starting to worry the second he puts his head on his pillow every night, overthinking everything he said, afraid his words were enough to make Sander change his mind and break up.
He has a few more tests, and some assignments to give to his teachers, but in every free minute that he has, Robbe is checking his phone, knowing what he’ll find: his messages with no answer. Sometimes Sander will at least read them, but he never answers properly. He likes Robbe’s messages or sends a few emojis that can have so many interpretations.
The school is his main focus during the weekdays, his only way to worry about something else other than his relationship, but he does everything automatically not needing to use much of his brain: wakes up, eats breakfast with his mom, goes to school, does whatever test he has, leaves his assignments, watches classes, gets on his bike and goes home.
He doesn’t feel like skating and spending his time with the boys these days. It’s stupid, but he gets even angrier if he remembers what Sander said and his reaction. So he decides to leave Aaron, Moyo, and Jens be for now.
Robbe moves to his side under the sheets, opening Instagram again. It’s Friday night, finally, and Jens insisted on him to go with them to this new bar close to his place, but Robbe was tired after so many tests and he wanted to be alone. Or with Sander, but that he couldn’t do.
Sander posted a piece of art earlier and tagged some of his friends in it. Robbe opens every one of the links in hopes to find a story or a picture with his boyfriend in it. He leaves the worst one for last. And of course, that’s where he finds something.
Adi posted a bunch of videos during the whole afternoon. Robbe rewatches them more times than he should, just to hear his boyfriend’s voice or to see his blurry smile when Adi films him looking at some art, his favorite camera under his arm and around his neck, laughing over his shoulder to look at Adi when he’s making fun of how Sander would rather look at more art in their free time instead of going out for some drinks.
Robbe didn’t know Sander’s friends were going and he can’t stop himself from wondering why they could go and that wasn’t even offered to him. He stops before he can start disliking Adi even more for no reason other than the boy is not his fan either. He opens the stories again and tries to take a screenshot of Sander’s smile, his messy hair that’s needing a haircut if Sander’s words are something to go by.
Robbe keeps his opinions to himself for four more days, trying not to let Adi get under his skin with all the stories, all about Sander. Or the pictures he posts of all of them at a bar late at night, smiling from ear to ear. He knows part of all these posts is to annoy him. That’s what Adi does, he doesn’t like Robbe and he’ll make sure to piss him off whenever he can. Showing off how Sander is having fun with him and the boys.
to Sander: ’m happy to s you and Adi aer having fun. Hope he wont maaAke you hate me:)
Robbe texts his boyfriend on the tenth night when he’s drunk after going out with the boys because they wouldn’t let him go home yet again. He’s struggling to change to go to bed, wishing he had warmer, stronger hands to help him with that. Robbe won’t get an answer and he’ll be hungover the next morning so he turns his phone off and passes out on his bed.
It feels like he blinked his eyes and when he opens, his mom is carefully putting a big bottle of water on his nightstand and leaving him be for a little longer. Robbe lifts his arm, feeling it so heavy and tired, but he manages to grab the bottle, turn to his side and drink half of it, hoping it’ll help.
He can’t put it back on the nightstand so he leaves the water on the floor and falls asleep again. Using his hand to cover his eyes, wanting to cry and call Sander to break things up already if that’s why he’s trying to do with this stupid silence.
His phone lightens the room suddenly and Robbe opens his eyes, trying to understand where the light is coming from. He looks around himself, everything is exactly as messy as he left it so he puts his head down, staring at his phone until the light fades back to black. He stretches his phone and finds it, letting his arm fall back on the mattress with the phone. His eyes are fighting to close again, but Robbe presses his fingers on the sides of his phone to see what’s going on.
earthlingoddity tagged you in a photo
That’s unexpected, but Robbe clicks on the notification, rubbing his eyes with his other hand to wake up enough to see what he posted.
He clicks on Sander’s username, opening his feed to make sure he saw it right. A picture of him that Sander took and never showed him. He can post a picture of Robbe, but not reply to his messages.
It’s ridiculous how fast his half-asleep, deprived of touch body responds to the caption Sander wrote underneath the picture.
I keep my visions to myself
It's only me who wants to
Wrap around your dreams and
Have you any dreams you'd like to sell?
Robbe lies on his back, reading the caption a few times. It’s not even that sexual, but it feels like it. He opens their conversation, still no new message from Sander so he closes it again, opening the camera. Looking at himself, the sheets falling closely around his legs, Robbe thinks about being stupid and reckless and desperate .
Maybe that will make Sander reply to him for once. Letting his rush of adrenaline take over, Robbe lifts the sheets, looking at the door to make sure it’s closed. He’s harder than he anticipated which is a little embarrassing considering that absolutely nothing happened, but fuck it. He takes the picture of his naked torso, his shirt rolling on his chest from him probably moving too much while asleep, his lean, way too skinny legs, and his grey underwear.
to Sander: you can’t write things like that
And he sends before he can think about it. It’s been a while since they did this. Exchanging photos, but Robbe waits, keeping his phone unlocked. Sander sees the photo right away, but there are no bubbles indicating an answer.
Robbe lets himself wait for five minutes. Sander liked the photo, but didn’t answer, didn’t send a text. Just like the universe is trying to send a clear message, when his phone hits 12:45, it turns black.
“Shit…” Robbe slams his phone against the mattress, hating himself for being so stupid and needy.
Sander really left him on read after that photo.
Robbe rushes out of his bedroom, clicking on the screen a bunch of times to make sure he’s completely out of battery. His mom doesn’t know his password either so he’s not risking her seeing what he just sent to Sander.
“Mom?” He finds her in the living room, soft music playing in the background, everything is off the floor so she can clean it.
“Yes?” She stops her dance party while mopping the floor, turning around to look at him.
“Can you do me a favor?” Robbe keeps pinching the inside of his cheek with his teeth, the embarrassment still filling his every thought like his mom can see in his face what he did five minutes ago.
“Of course. What do you need?”
“I need you to keep my phone hostage for the next 24 hours.” He offers his phone to her, trying not to worry. It’s just 24 hours and Sander hasn’t replied to him in days, it’s not like he’ll miss much if he keeps his distance from his phone for a whole day. She frowns, but smiles softly, holding his phone carefully.
“Okay…” Robbe smiles at her, and she looks at the black screen, “Can I ask why?”
Robbe tilts his head, looking around, not knowing what to say, “I just have some important things to do for school and so I need to focus.”
She doesn’t believe him, keeps staring like she’s waiting for him to tell the truth, but he doesn’t want to and she doesn’t ask either, putting his phone inside her pocket.
“Thank you.”
“No problem, sweetie. If you need anything, just ask.” She says and he nods his head, thinking about making them lunch as a thank you, trying to keep his mind away from Sander and how unfair he's being.
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