#the paws were just because they were cute and on sale | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vonev · 2 years ago

Text

Kitten

MW2, Simon "Ghost" RileyxReader fanfiction

Another short and sweet one-shot to soothe the pain

Self-insert, AFAB, she/her pronouns.

Word count, 2480

Summary:

You had plans of adopting a kitten for quite a while now, the thoughts danced in the back of your head like a sweet, agonising ticking bomb. You knew it wouldn't be long until you make the impulsive decision to walk down a few streets and pick up a poor kitten by the sidewalks. Or confidently take a stroll to the nearby pet store with the specific breed you want in mind, just to fold at the mere sights of different breeds of kittens waiting to be adopted.

God knows you wouldn’t be able to resist those cute, lovable eyes of theirs with the absolutely heart-wrenching noises they make.

Oh, and Ghost knew.

Two dorks rekindle broken bonds over a kitten. ____________________________________________________

“Meow.”

Your heart melted.

God knows you wouldn’t be able to resist those cute, lovable eyes of theirs with the absolutely heart-wrenching noises they make.

Especially since you had lost yours to a car crash only a few months ago.

Oh, and Ghost knew.

He had seen the way you paced around the living room at times with a magazine of pet belongings for sale. He heard the squeals you would make at the sight of a little kitten that somehow wandered into the base, seemingly uncaring of the world around it as its tiny paws carried its small steps,

But he was not a man of possession.

He learnt the hard way that attachments only led to inevitable loose ends that he’d have to clean up.

But he was a hypocrite as well.

As much as he denied ever feeling the connection to you, he knew he had been lying to you—to himself. The number of times he’d catch himself blank out, with you primarily occupying his empty mind was starting to worry him, and he understood that he had to distance himself away from you. Which is what he did.

For the past few months, he purposefully avoided you like a plague. If he found you in the kitchen, he would somehow end up in the bathroom. If you had walked into his room for an enquiry? He’d be out like a light, softly snoring away in the next second. So and so forth.

And for the past few torturous weeks, he had left you with more questions—though, you knew you weren’t getting an answer.

He had heard your cries at times, and they would shatter his heart into million pieces. The urge to barge into your room and hold you close to him had been festering inside him, but with what little self-restraint he had, he would end up walking away every time. Telling himself that it would be the betterment for you and him both.

One rainy morning, Ghost wandered off down the streets with plans to fetch himself some groceries. The food had dwindled because you had been the one running them dry—he’d catch you shoving food into your mouth as you sobbed away in the middle of the kitchen.

He also took notice of the subtle, yet evident weight you gained as a direct result of sleepless nights and stress that consumed your energy. To his honesty, he thought you looked good with the weight, great, even. Ghost had never been particularly picky with women—not when the one he had his eyes on was as perfect as you.

You were everything right; and wrong. For the past years, you had somehow shot straight through his heart with your presence, completely wrecking the facade he had carefully moulded to the world. He didn’t know how you had done it, but more often than not, he would find himself craving for your seemingly bottomless affection.

Contrary to him, you wore your heart on your sleeves, even a blind man would be able to smell them from miles away. You were always so charismatic; so welcoming and everyone could read you like an open book—he had to step in from time to time to make sure you weren’t hurt, that your feelings weren’t toyed with.

But that soon stopped when he went out with the squad that one night.

All of you were having a, in your words, girl’s night out as you all strutted down to a local bar.

To assume you were a capable drinker had been a mistake on his end—as soon as your lips touched the rim of your glass, you were drunk off practically air; he wasn’t sure if it had been the alcohol or the pure high off of the excitement at the bar at that moment.

You truly let yourself go—even went as far as to reel Soap into your arms and waddle to the dance floor.

Watching the two of you slow-dance away in glee had his stomach churned in all the wrong ways. He had gotten up abruptly from his seat and excused himself to the restroom, wanting to get away from the bitter fact that it had been jealousy he felt when he laid eyes on you and Soap in such an intimate moment.

Unbeknownst to him, a pair of heels clicked on the hardwood floor behind his large frame, trailing his path; he had been in too deep of his thoughts to register that the clicks belonged to you, and as soon as he entered the restroom, you were there standing at his side.

“Why are you running away from me?” You whispered.

Those sweet, endearing eyes of yours were on him when he turned around to face you, he had been surprised—and unrightfully, angered.

“I’m not.” Was his bland reply, as he approached the sinks.

“Stop lying to yourself for once, Simon.” His tracks stopped, and he was stunned at the mention of his name—you had only spoken of his name once, and that one time hadn’t been for the right reason.

“Don’t.” His voice sounded more of a whimper than a demand. “Don’t use my name.”

It hurt.

It hurt so much you felt as if someone had taken a knife and wrenched it into your very heart, twisting and turning the sharp object whilst it destroyed you from the inside. Tears were threatening to spill, but you kept a brave face and closed the distance with Ghost. No, Simon.

You knew you had earned the right to refer to him by name, that he had subtly permitted you long ago when he knew you deserved the privilege—and he called you a friend since then.

“Simon.” Your hand reached up to gently place it on his arm. “You have to talk to me.” You understood that you had been pushing your luck, but you would never in a million years expect him to fling your hand away as though it disgusted him—as if it had been vile.

He didn’t miss the soft gasp that left those pretty lips of yours, nor the tears that pricked at the corner of your captivating eyes; they pierced through his skin and engraved themselves deep in his mind as he watched a tear slide down your supple cheeks.

Even in those moments, he wished he could just push you against the wall and steal a kiss from you—one that he had been wanting for far too long.

Unfortunately for him, the very next second, you were out of the door.

And now there you stood, amid the busy pet store you found yourself in as your eyes scanned your surrounding—

—Kittens. Kittens everywhere.

Turned out, you didn’t do well with pressure, so you ultimately ended up walking out of the store, giving the staff apologetic glances. As much as you loved the variety you could be picky with, you couldn’t help but think back to your babydoll, the love of your life.

You felt wrong, downright terrible at times for wanting to adopt a new kitten, knowing that yours are resting up there in heaven with its last memory one of an approaching vehicle. You recount the nights you spent curled up in your bed, the pillow beneath you soaked with tears as you wept for what you once had, the very kitten that would lay next to you whenever you slept.

It had been love at first sight for you.

You knew that it would be yours the moment you gazed upon it.

Black fur, two bright, yellow buttons for its eyes, the tiny paws that would claw in the direction of you—wanting to get close to you. You had picked it off the sidewalk, on a particularly gloomy day with seeming rain that would never cease. In an instant, you brought it home—no questions asked nor do you need any. You fed and nurtured it back to health within a week, you still remember the way it felt in your arms as you both drifted off into sleep.

You named it Spirit.

Not because of the guy you were in a team with, no, it was mainly because the kitten would seem to disappear out of thin air at random chances just to come back with either loot or meowls to signify that it had been starving. You were sure you had been close to experiencing having a heart attack when it up and disappeared for too long one time—but it came back unscratched, and longing for your attention after a few hours.

To say you had been a wreck had been an understatement when you found out why your sweet little kitten had been gone for a full day.

The team had gone out on a hunt for it—Soap, Gaz and even Price had gotten in on the news and ran to flip every corner of the streets. But Ghost wasn't found anywhere—both the man and the kitten.

Imagine the dread that filled your whole being when you sprinted down the street you found it in, just to spot its mutilated, lifeless body on the sidewalk.

It died where it was found.

And a piece of you was left on the ground where its body lay, never to be found again.

You grumbled, your palm reaching up to wipe away the tears that clouded your vision as you walked back to the familiar safe house. You understood that you had been desperately attempting to cling onto what was left of you, frantically searching for a new pet to fill in the void of the previous one—but you couldn’t do it, everything hadn’t felt the same since then.

Grief had never been easy to deal with.

The tense atmosphere you had around Ghost didn’t aid your pain either, on the contrary, it worsened it. You weren’t sure if you could handle another loss as significant as the two of them—one, a relationship you held dear for years and the other, a loving tiny companion that you could never replace.

You had to refrain from knocking on his doors a few nights—needing the company of someone who used to be so willing to give it, and now he had been sheltered away, far from you.

It felt like being back at square one, somehow, it was worse.

Ghost would tell you the same if he could—if he wanted to. As devastating as the consequences of his actions had been, he longed for the times you would seek his comfort and huddled away in the shared balcony of yours, the two of you reminiscing the fun times, sometimes, the sad.

But he had been there, and he only wished he could be back where he wanted to be—in your personal space. Ghost grunted, his hand now gripping the umbrella he held tighter than what was needed, he knew the grasp wouldn’t fully calm him down, but it would have to do for now.

“Fucking hell.” His feet took him down the very street where you had adopted your previous kitten, and he knew of it because you would ramble his ears off about the damn kitten.

How he hoped he had been the kitten.

He winced.

Not the death that came to it—but the thought of being able to be in your warm embrace and rest well for once in his life.

A small whisper took him out of his daze, barely a whisper.

His head snapped to the noise, and below him, he saw a kitten—

—one that had an uncanny resemblance to your previous one.

In that same street, tucked away on that same sidewalk he had come to be familiar with.

And as Ghost stared into the beady, bright yellow of its eyes. He knew what he had to do.

Before he knew it, he was back at the safe house, drenched in rain and the umbrella tossed to the side of the entryway. In his arms, a soft mewl sounded.

You had been in the kitchen, your hands working to make a batch of warm, delectable meals for the boys tonight—when you heard the front door shut close, loud.

Jumping at the sound, you whipped your head around and saw Ghost, completely soaked with rain dripping off of him. And as you trailed your eyes down his figure, you heard a soft mewl coming from his arms. Ghost seemed to have noticed your curiosity, and slowly but carefully held the tiny creature out in his hand.

Your eyes popped like a champagne bottle at a nightclub, the utensil you were holding onto fell on the counter, and a staggering Clank sound hit your ears as the spatula slipped onto the floor. Though you were long gone from the kitchen by then, now standing in front of Ghost and peering down at the little creature he carried.

It looked so much like Spirit.

For just another moment, you stood there.

And Ghost happily complied with your silent request, handing the kitten and letting it slip effortlessly into your arms.

Admittedly, it had been a while since he had seen your tears, or you, at all.

It hadn’t been easy for him to avoid you, really, all he wanted was his closure and the comfort of being by himself. But he soon came to realise that it wasn’t the same comfort you offered him on nights of loneliness, no—it was how you opened your arms to him no matter the circumstances, without questions.

And he went and blew it all off from himself when he needed it the most—when he needed you the most.

In the haze of his thoughts, you had peered up at him, and a quiet plea left you.

“Can we bathe it, please?”

And he would have been more of a fool if he declined when you had slowly opened your arms back to him again—and this time, he pushed the fear of commitment to the back of his mind, now choosing to jump into your embrace as he had always wanted to.

Ghost swore to never let you slip away between his fingers ever again.

“Yes.” Ghost felt a sense of relief washed over him as you perked up, your eyes now shone with life that he hadn’t seen in quite a while.

“Yes, we can.”

And he ought to keep his promise.

#ghost cod #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #john mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #cod mwii #mw2 #modern warfare 2 #y/n #x reader #female reader #angst #hurt/comfort #ghost fanfiction

271 notes · View notes

marshallpupfan · 8 months ago

Text

New Marshall Merchandise #57... or #32... or #29, I've Lost Count!

You know, I started posting these updates a few years ago, back when many of my followers were curious about anything I added to my collection. Some of them have gone quiet, possibly moved on or lost interest in PAW Patrol. I'm not sure if my current followers have any interest in these updates. At this point, I just post about these now because I enjoy showing off new items of my favorite character. 😇

And new items, I indeed have! Many of these I've collected over the last month or two, as finding new items hasn't exactly been too easy lately. Most major stores are still selling Jungle Pups and Mighty Movie toys, so hopefully anything new will pop up soon enough. Despite that, I have managed to find a few interesting things!

I first found out about this little figurine when it popped up on Ebay, but nobody would sell it without the other pups (Chase, Skye and Rubble... sadly, no Rocky or Zuma). Someone on Twitter told me they seen some at a Dollar Tree, so of course, I tried checking all the stores I have near me. It took a while, but one finally got some in! Best of all, it's only $1.25, so that's cool!

Hey, you know what else is cool?

Accidentally finding another piece of merchandise I didn't expect to see! I'd actually seen one of these on Ebay earlier the same day, but I thought it was a part of some set. Much to my surprise, Dollar Tree also had it, and also for $1.25. It's not the most impressive of the bath squirters I own, but I'm still happy to add it to my collection!

Ha, look at the label! Chase, Marshall, Skye... and Zuma! Well, it makes sense, given he's the water pup, but I still didn't expect that. Nice to see him on a label for once. :)

I'd actually seen pictures of these online a few times over the years, although they were typically branded as Christmas candy. I never could find any at the stores near me, but then a friend said she seen some at Walgreens. I searched around and finally found one... the last one they had left, in fact! Score! And yeah, I likely won't eat it... it'll sit in my collection along with that other Easter candy I got. lol

...huh, I just noticed it's cracked around the neck. I don't think it was like that when I bought it. Guess I somehow did that. Oops... but it still looks cool, right? Maybe I can find one to replace it when they show up again next year... if they show up again next year. 😅

I seen this at a garage sale for $1. How could I say no? Besides, just look at Marshall on this thing! Too cute, as always! 🥰

Actually, this was yet another lucky find, since I've seen these on Ebay for like $10 (with $5 shipping or so). The fact it's practically in perfect condition is also quite awesome. Living in a small town has it perks!

Last, and it's the priciest item today. I seen this while helping my folks with their shopping at Walmart. They had a few, but they were all Marshall. I wasn't going to get one at first, due to just how big it is, but my mother knows I collect practically anything of Marshall, so she bought it for me. Indeed, I'm already having trouble finding a spot for it, but no doubt I will... eventually... along with the other items on my table. Remember my last few updates? Yeah... most of those items are still sitting there, too. I'm running out of room! lol

That's all for now! I actually do have a few more items coming in the mail, so I'll have a few more things to show off soon enough... Valentines plush dolls, in fact. Ones I expected my local Walmart to get, but they never did. Otherwise, a friend of mine in the UK has offered to send me something I believe is only being sold in her country, so I'll get to add another imported item to my collection soon! I always love doing that, so I'm looking forward to getting it!

As for the Rescue Wheels toys, I've no idea when they'll show up. Maybe in June? July? Whenever the USA finally puts the episodes on their schedule. Now that I think about it, they'll probably be the last toys based on the original designs, huh? All future merch will likely use the new style. We better enjoy it while it lasts, I suppose.

14 notes · View notes

bokettochild · 1 year ago

Note

I would love to see your plushies collection! How many of them have names?

All of them!

And here they are!

These are Creamer and Angus! The trusty steeds of my stuffed animal collection! They didn't talk like the others, but they had some personality; both loyal, Creamer (the palomino) more friendly and Angus (the black one) more guarded.

These two are Katy and Lucy/Andy. Katy (grey) is the more timid one, and was given to me by my younger brother. Lucy is a friendly and outgoing person, but when I made her a boy, 'Andy' he was more of a jokester and risk taker. Lucy/Andy was given to me for the Christmas my dad was overseas, in my stocking. My mom had an identical one that I loved to bits, so she got me my own.

Katy is the twin sister to my elder sibling's identical cat "Kitty"(very original, I know)

Fun fact! These two kitties have magnets in their paws and foreheads! So they can hold hands, play peek-a-boo and stick to anything metal!

These two are Kittiwink and Rocky! They're BlueNoses™ and I think they're from England?

Fun fact! These two were also gifts from my dad when he was deployed. That same Christmas, he sent these over for us, and my mom let us choose which ones we wanted. My siblings all went first, so Rocky and Kittiwink were the last two when me and my roommate (current and at that time) got our turns. Because I was the only one who had cleaned our room that night, I got first pick and chose Kittiwink, and my sister got Rocky, but was upset because he was "ugly".

Kittiwink was later burned at the stake (put on top of a light bulb and melted) by my toddler brother, so the one I have now is actually one my dad got me when I was 14, for my birthday.

Kiitiwink is a timid and quiet deary, with good manners and a lot of cowardice. Come to think of it, she's a lot like how I write Ravio nowadays; caring but cowardly, and never eager to step on toes, but willing to push matters or tease if she feels comfortable.

Rocky was a bully, originally, because my sister hated him, but when he came to me (because she didn't like him) I made him a studious little nerd with a love of astronomy! He and Kittiwink have been a couple since then, although I have at times elected to cast them as siblings when needed. Their romance is very timid and sweet, but very classy <3

These three are Lewis (Grey), Susanna (White) and Roy (Orange). Lewis was a garage sale find, and Susana and Roy I bought online. I had a cat just like Susana when I was seven, that I most cleverly named "White" and whom was my favorite stuffy for forever. When my dad was deployed over Christmas, my mom was actually almost ready to pop with my second brother, so we had to travel out of state to stay with some friends of hers while the baby was born, because our regular sitters all got hung up with something and we had no family in that part of the country. I left White in the living-room window to greet me when I got home, but she wasn't there when I got back. My siblings tried to convince me that she was so old that she disintegrated :(

I bought Susana when I was older, in hopes of replacing my beloved stuffy, but she wasn't the same except in looks. Where White was sweet and gentle, Susana is stern, stuffy and very proper, with an elder sibling like need to correct other people and keep everyone behaving according to the rules of society.

Roy is her lover, a charismatic and charming leader sort who ended up as arm candy more than not because I had no great male role models to inspire him, and thus he was just there as...arm candy.

Lewis is a stupid and lovable bafoon and Roy's best friend. He occasionally played a villain or henchman, but was also a goof and jokester when he wasn't kidnapping or enslaving innocents or committing war crimes.

This is Susana. Another stocking stuffer, but this one hated. She's very cute, but don't let her face fool you, she's made of cherpa! A most detestable ick material that always makes me uncomfortable. For this crime, she was made the Karen of this world, and an all around bully and entitled jerk to anyone and everyone for no reason whatsoever. Why, you ask? Because this way I didn't have to touch her very much :)

These two are Jacob and Jingle! Two of a trio, the third (their elder brother) belongs to my elder sister, and is named John. their last name is Heimer-Schmitt >:)

Yes, we sang that song incessantly whenever this trio came into play "John-Jacob-Jingeheimer-Schmitt!". They're children of the local butcher, these three were honest but poor and always provided backup, care, and support for those around them. John was madly in love with the aristocratic Kitty, but his siblings were content with their lot and friendly with most but not attempting to climb the social ladder. Jingle is sweet and motherly and Jacob somewhat clueless but well meaning.

For no reason whatsoever, Jingle was the only one with a cockney accent.

This is William. He is a classist aristocrat with an attitude problem. My second elder sister gave him to me when I was eight, for my birthday. I wanted to name him Miracle and make him a girl, but his perpetual scowl made it barely believable and he quickly became the stern, serious and somewhat antagonistic figure he is now known as. Sometimes a villain, sometimes not, but never quite the hero, he was never able to land a lady, despite the fact that he was commonly portrayed as quite the catch.

These two are Martin (mouse) and Mattie (bunny). They're both hand-me-downs with tragically already established personalities belonging to my second elder sister. Bitter rivals for no apparent reason and hardly equal, Martin is a weary but resiliant fighter and skillful in his craft, and Mattie is a gluttonous oaf who lacks any real grounds to stand a threat to anyone, especially with his nonsensically poor attempts at manipulation.

Mattie is absolutely adorable, but my every attempt to redeem him into a likable character failed after he came into my possession, du to bias from my playmates, and he is now doomed to be thought of as the stupid villain forever :(

Martin is cardboard and boring, and his charming rabbit ears were butchered in the first of many experiments by my sister to try altering him. He is now a mouse :(

This is Daisy! One of a trio of rabbits belonging to my eldest sister, my room-mate and myself, she's basically me! She's well meaning but unfortunately quick to charge ahead. Inquisitive but not as insightful as likely would be best, and with a good heart but not always a full understanding of how things actually work.

Her sisters, Blossom (elder sister) and Violet (room-mate) and she are all BlueNoses™ as well. Blossom is quiet, delicate, timid, and a coward, and Violet is bold, brash, independent and possibly gender fluid, apparently (room-mate's words).

Daisy came to me on December 10 as a replacement after my brother burned my beloved BlueNose™ at the stake when I was small. I loved bunnies a lot as a kid, so when my dad told me to choose a replacement for my ruined stuffy, Daisy was my first pick. I named her after my mom's favorite flower and she's been my favorite stuffy since before she even arrived.

This last trio is Dusky (left), Sierra (center) and Blackie (right). The two dogs are hand me downs from the sisters on either side of me in the age line up, and Sierra was also a hand-me-down from the second elder sibling.

These three form a small detective agency in the animal world we played in. Sierra is the chipper, friendly, but devious lead detective. She's bright and bubbly, but quick and dangerous when need be. Yes, she is a skunk, but I never let it bother me and she's been a favorite with almost all the babies in the family.

Dusky is her work-partner, a more serious, and somewhat butch female cop with a no-nonsense attitude but a soft spot for her team-mate. They're a good team, although unlikely friends and despite my younger sister's insistence, they are not lesbians, just besties.

Blackie is their commander and a stern and serious guy who mostly didn't show up in games except either to arrest someone, guard something, or occasionally to drop the role as the gruff cop and take on the position of the loyal soldier to a cruel overlord.

So yeah! that's all of them!

Or most anyway, I've collected a few random ones over the years, but none of them have ever been payed with because i was already grown up when I got them

#ketto's stuffies #asks and answers #not lu

16 notes · View notes

milktearosethorn · 1 year ago

Note

(Wizard! George meets a new furry friend and potential new ones. Enjoy!) Bottles clinking, bubbles popping, fire cracking, the wind blowing against the trees outside. These were all sounds George was accustomed to in his small cabin in the middle of nowhere. He was a trained wizard but a potion maker by trade, in a small business deal with his close friend from wizarding school where he would make the potions and his friend would go out to different villages and have a pop-up shop. He had to hand it to his friend, he was a great sales-guy and he gets half of the profits so he’s not complaining. One thing that sucks about living in the forest was that he got lonely. A lot. His friend only came by to pick up potions and while they try to schedule a few days off so they can have fun, their business took off faster than they thought so they were constantly busy. George loved making potions and all of the different possibilities he could make, he just wished he had someone there while he stirred the pot. As he ponders on what to do next, he hears something scratch against his door. He’s used to random branches breaking off and scratching against the door though, so he opts to ignore it and goes over to his shelf to find his stash of netherwart. As he looks, the scratching on the door continues. Ok, there’s probably someone or something there and he’s admittedly a little apprehensive since its very, very rare for him to get visitors. Quickly grabbing an iron sword, George stalks over to his door and slowly reaches for the handle. With an internal countdown, he throws the door open. Only to find no one there. George looks around at the treeline when he hears a soft mew at his feet. Looking down, he found a beautiful tabby cat with small white paws sitting right on top of his welcome rug. “Oh hello.” George knelt down and reached out his hand so the cat could sniff his name. It sniffed a few times before rubbing its head against his hand, “And where did you come from, little one?” Thats when he noticed her collar and what looked like parchment rolled up inside the leather. With a quick hand, he gently pulled the paper out and unrolled it as he scratches underneath the cats chin. ‘Hello! My name is Patches, my dads and I live nearby. They're too shy to come say hi, so thats why Im here! Meow!’

George couldn’t help but chuckle as he waves a finger to summon his ink, quill, and paper.

“Well, Patches,” he greets as the quill dipped into the ink, “You’re such a brave little kitten for coming all this way. Be sure to send my greetings to your dads.” With a quick sign of his name, he attaches the note to the cat's collar and sends her on her way. Closing his door behind him, he hopes that whoever sent her will come and meet him in person.

Ahhh this is so cute, thank you!

I took an extra while to answer this ask because I was inspired to make a little pixel doodle to accompany this flash fic! :D

#i'm a major beginner when it comes to pixel stuff and have only done small scale but i did my best!#dtblrtot2023

6 notes · View notes

icarus-suraki · 2 years ago

Note

15: Have any pets? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 62: What makes you happy?

15. Have any pets? Sadly, I do not :C At the moment I don't anyway.

Growing up, I had a massive black and white tuxedo cat (seriously, this boy weight 25 lbs, 11oz at his heaviest and he was a big kitty). He lived a good 14 or 16 years and I loved him regardless of how crotchety he was. He was an indoor-outdoor cat and I regret that knowing what I know now--to say nothing of how he got into fights with other indoor-outdoor cats in the neighborhood. But I loved him and I cried when he died.

Then in graduate school, my roommate had a super skinny little black and white long-haired tuxedo cat named Kanda (after the character in D.Gray-man though the character is male and the cat was female). I swear there's a skinny tux long-hair moggy phenotype because I've met more than a couple cats like this and they're all inclined to the zoomies and very vocal. This cat was no exception: she was nuts but she was cute. And she loved anything milky or creamy. If you laid down for a nap, she'd walk up like "That looks like a good idea. Scoot over" and take a nap next to you. She sat on my lap while I wrote my master's thesis and I wish I had given her a credit on that. Alas. Kanda actually has a long story as to how she came (back) to my roommate.

Meanwhile, towards the end of graduate school and thereafter, I kept finches. I started with four: a society finch, a spice finch, an orange-cheeked waxbill, and a bronze-winged mannikin. My roommate (the same one with Kanda) insisted that they have fancy, Victorian names. So they were Giacomo, Guilford, Vincent, and Jasper. Giacomo didn't live very long, unfortunately. Guilford, Vincent, and Jasper lived quite a while. Jasper, according to a vet, was older than we thought (as in, he had cataracts?), but he lived for something like 10 years in my care. Vincent, the orange-cheeked waxbill, lived the longest at something like 12 years. He had such a nice song. The spice finch sounded like a digital camera or a CD player--so oddly mechanical. Looking back, I'd do things different to take care of them. I wish I could've had a huge, huge enclosure for them, but that wasn't possible. If I ever keep finches (or any kind of birds) again, I will spoil them rotten with the biggest enclosure possible. (Channeling my inner Nie Huaisang here suddenly…)

But for right now, no, I don't have any pets. But! I had a dream about a little black and white tuxedo cat--mostly black but with white toes on his front paws and a little white on his chest--who was living in a bookstore that would make the dark academia fans rip their Moleskines in half. He was walking around in the bay window in the front of the store and there was a sign there that read "HONK IS NOT FOR SALE." This cat's name was Honk and I am taking that dream as a sign that someday Honk will come into my life. I'm trying to use Honk to motivate me in my therapy and job-hunting. It's all for Honk.

27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? Not that I know of…?

I mean, I went on about two dates with this guy and I think he thought it was more serious than I did? So we had to have a "breakup" conversation after two dates? Maybe that broke his heart? I doubt it, though. (Sorry I'm introverted and kinda schizoid. Damn.)

If I've broken your heart, I'm really sorry. I had no idea I did that.

62: What makes you happy? I suck at answering things like this because my brain immediately goes "NOTHING. FUCK OFF." So lemme see what I can do here…

Okay. Sleeping. I know sleeping a lot is a symptom of depression and all but I do like it--likely because I really enjoy dreaming. I've never really mastered lucid dreaming, but I generally don't care. I just like seeing what my brain comes up with.

Um, tea with milk and sugar. Lousy carryout grocery store sushi (especially salmon nigiri). Hot fresh sticky rice (with or without Ingredient). Pickles. Cherries. Blueberries (my beloved). Cheese (you may indeed fascinate me by giving me a piece of cheese). Dark chocolate--or anything dark and/or bitter, really. Also salty things, like miso and soy sauce.

I like talking to my parents when we're not being too serious. Like, when we're showing each other memes or talking about what we've read lately. Or I'll sit on my news feed and find weird articles about iguanas falling out of trees in Florida because it's cold or about whatever George Santos has lied about most recently. I like it when we can just hang out and laugh at dumb stuff and make inside jokes. Like, if you've ever seen the movie After Life, that's the memory where I'd like to live.

Um… Spring right through early summer--like from when the first maple buds come out stright through to mid-July--makes me happy. Winter is really hard for me and fall just makes me remember that winter is on its way. Candlemas (Imbolc, February 2nd) is kind of a bright spot but it's not quite the same as when the early onions come up and the first dandelions. Seeing some sunlight through red maple buds is like a spiritual experience.

Related to that: flowering trees. Any of them. All of them: plums, apple, crabapple, pears, even invasive and smelly Bradford pears. But, being an oldtaku and reformed weeaboo, cherry blossoms are near and dear to my heart.

And related to that: the local anime convention that I've been going to for…20 years--that always makes me happy. Same thing with cosplaying, there or elsewhere: it makes me happy. Sometimes it stresses me out a bit, sure, but it does make me happy in the end. (Need to work on some of the cosplay projects scattered on the floor in here.) Like, seeing a thing I've made that's clever or so amazingly close to how a character looks in their source makes me smile.

Right now I'm still hooked on The Untamed and Heaven Official's Blessing (see: cosplay). So those make me happy--especially all the amazing fanart and the delicious memes. God bless the meme-makers. Like my tag says, I swear I'm into the series for more than the memes, but the memes are really good. Seeing the Jiang sect decal I have on the back window of my car makes me happy too. Jiang gang 4 lyfe!!

There's probably more, but this is what I can think of right now.

Ask me things?

#ask game #ask me things #anon is on

3 notes · View notes

rotworld · 2 years ago

Text

31: Halloween Party

your least favorite visitor at the party supply store where you work is back again.

->suggestive but not explicit. contains mild/implied body horror.

A motion-activated zombie lawn decoration starts to rattle and moan theatrically at a group of giggling teenagers coming through the automatic doors. You smile tightly at them from the picked over display you’re rearranging, a plastic skeleton flopping across your shoulder. The store’s packed thanks to the ULTRA MEGA LAST CHANCE SALE ads, aisles clotted with frantic, last minute shoppers and free-roaming children. Things are pretty well picked over. The costumes section is a wasteland, nothing left but bottom of the barrel gimmick outfits and obscure Star Wars characters, but customers keep coming.

Your manager is ecstatic. To her credit, she’s in the trenches with the rest of you, trying to corral a pair of masked children smacking each other with foam swords, but her exhaustion hasn’t caught up to her enthusiasm just yet and she’s insufferably chipper. “How’re we doing over here?” she asks you. “Good day so far?”

“Great,” you wheeze, catching a plastic lantern before it can fall off the shelf.

“Great! Can you run back to the dressing rooms, make sure nobody needs help?” She frowns, staring towards the back of the store. “And if anybody’s telling those stupid rumors, make sure to clear it up.”

You’d rather do literally anything else, but she gives you a sharp look and you remember you’re on thin ice. “Yep,” you say weakly, “be right there.”

There’s an anonymous user spamming every possible public forum about Naughty ‘N Nice Party Supplies once October rolls around. The story changes from year to year. It used to be standard urban legend fare, black mold in the walls, spider eggs in the costumes, but it’s gotten increasingly unhinged lately. “N3 Party Supplies is cursed and you will die if you try on a costume in the dressing room,” one Google review claims. “There is something in the mirror of the N3 Party Supplies dressing room that kills anyone who sees it,” says someone on Yelp.

“PROOF that there are DEMONS in N3 Party Supplies Dressing Room,” is the title of a viral clip widely believed to be an elaborate marketing stunt or the start of an ARG. The clip is less than a minute long and shows the space beneath one of the dressing room doors. A pair of jeans is crumpled around someone’s ankles. There’s a convenient moment of strange visual distortion and the focus needlessly auto-adjusting, and if you scrub through it frame by frame, there’s something else in the dressing room with them for just a split second. It’s hard to make out details and the comments argue about it—tentacles? Curved talons? Those cute, fuzzy little paws you see in close-up pictures of spiders, but way too big?

The company denied that it had anything to do with the video. Your manager had a fit and called a meeting the day after the video was uploaded, because she recognized the carpet floor and arrangement of the dressing room furniture and knew it was her store. You and all of your coworkers were interrogated but nobody took responsibility, and she’s been suspicious of all of you ever since.

In the end, it didn’t matter. Sales are up. The store being “haunted” turned a slow season into one of the busiest in recent years. Some local ghost hunter group wants to come in after you close tonight and stake the place out. The whole thing still confuses the hell out of you. People aren’t staying away. They’re coming more often, in even greater numbers.

The lights don’t work right in the back corner of the store. The luminescent tubes buzz and flicker, and one of them always seems to be dead. Customer chatter dies to an unintelligible hum as though it’s a world away. There are four dressing rooms and they’re all unoccupied, the doors wide open. You let out the breath you were holding, peering into each. Maybe you can just hang around back here, catch anyone before they go in. There’s a wet floor sign in the front. You can pretend they need cleaning. You turn to get it and run right into someone, crying out in surprise.

“Oh, sorry—” The word’s half out of your mouth when you end up shoved into one of the open dressing rooms, your back slamming into the wall. The door creaks shut before you’ve recovered and you look up to see a customer—or what used to be, at least.

It’s a younger guy, college age. He’s unremarkable, short hair, average height, dressed in a jacket and jeans, and he’s leering at you like you’re a piece of meat. He’s right up against you, caging you against the wall, hot breath fanning across your face. His hand is around your throat just as you start screaming, digging his thumb into your windpipe. He’s freakishly strong and all of your struggles don’t even make him flinch, his eyes arched in excitement.

“You’re a little late this year,” he murmurs. “Sorry. I know you like to watch, but I’ve got places to be. Big party on campus, y’know? I just stuck around to say hi, and thanks. Your little crusade really blew up in your face this time.”

“Fuck you,” you say, barely a thin whisper with his hand on your neck.

“Mm. Don’t tempt me.” You shiver when his hand smooths down your body, his eyes flicking up as he palms your sex through your clothes. “I bet you’d feel good to wear,” he hisses, nipping at your ear. “Such a tight fit. Hot and snug and soft inside. I can make it hurt, but I don’t have to. I can make it pure fucking ecstasy.”

His tongue licks the shell of your ear and something else—something thicker, more flexible, a second tongue wriggling beside the first—presses teasingly into your ear until you let out a frightened noise. He withdraws both tongues with a chuckle and gives your face one last, hungry lick with both before they slither back into his mouth.

“This one,” he hisses, a hand on his own chest as a shiver runs down his spine, “this one likes it. Maybe I’ll keep him. Wouldn’t that be fun? Next year, I’ll walk in and you’ll recognize me right away. You’ll look at me the same way you are right now.” His tongue darts out to lap up the tears you can’t hold back. The hand between your legs starts tugging at your pants and he squeezes harder at the squeal of fear that slips out.

Your manager’s voice calling your name is what saves you. She does a quick lap by the dressing rooms without really paying much attention. “Hello! Everything good in there? Can I get you another size of anything?” she says, standing right outside the door.

The thing in the man’s skin never breaks your gaze, his eyes full of hunger, as he says, “No, I’m good, thanks.” Your manager doesn’t linger. You’re released when her footsteps fade and the man turns towards the dressing room mirror, smoothing down his hair and adjusting his jacket. “What time do you get off work?” he asks conversationally. His tone is completely different than before, closer to how he talked to your manager.

Your breathing is still shuddering and uneven. You sag against the wall of the dressing room, sinking to your knees. “You work too much,” he chides you. “You should come to this party with me. Cut loose, have fun, wear a crazy costume.” When he turns to you, there’s nothing off about his face, no intrinsic wrongness to his smile, and that scares you more than when it was obvious. He puts his hands in his pockets and ducks his head slightly in a perfect imitation of a shy college kid, grinning bashfully.

“So,” he asks, a gleeful sparkle in his eye, “what do you think of mine?”

#rotpeach writes #goretober #original #a short and sweet one to end the month!!#happy halloween everyone i hope you enjoyed goretober this year!

44 notes · View notes

chromatic-lamina · 2 years ago

Text

fluff & buff, paws & claws, bear & care

The signifier of a battle well-fought and survived (despite the odds) is a bandaid across the nose

whether the wearer is 19 or

or forty-seven or

just generally

cute.

Law,

despite having a bear, just might not be cute enough for a bandaid across his

nose.

OR those plasters on Law’s face are Bepo-sized, and Bepo

tried, oh yes he tried, to put one on the bridge of Law’s nose, but Captain’s such a spoilsport, and wouldn’t let him (furthermore, considering the size of the plasters, they might’ve asphyxiated him if placed across the proboscis).

***

As an aside, can you imagine no-name Daichi, the One Piece version of the Johnson & Johnson rep (or whoever’s most famous for Band-Aids in your country), trailing Luffy from island to island, battle to battle, war to war, trusty selection of bandaids at hand, because wherever the Straw Hats are there’s a need for cute plasters,. (Ace and Yamato were pre- these shenanigans), so, in general, like the News Coo and the bounty hunters, the bandaid sales rep has untapped, whole-universe potential).

#one piece #trafalgar law #trafalgar d. water law #one piece meta #opmeta #bepo one piece #monkey d. luffy #portgas d. ace #yamato one piece #denjiro one piece #Kyoushiro #one piece 1051 #chapter 1051 #one piece spoilers #opspoilers #op spoiler #chromameta #chromacaps #chromalami

91 notes · View notes

gloryofluv · 3 years ago

Text

Situations that end with MC Walking Away Brothers and Datables (-Luke)

This is supposed to be funny, humorous, fluffy, and teasing. Obviously, insinuations are there.

I didn't do Luke because you shouldn't walk away from children or dogs. Haha! No, really, I just didn't want to do one for him so apologies.

Lucifer-

MC walked into the library to see Lucifer. He hadn’t seen them as he turned over several books on random shelves. He also took books from one shelf and placed them on other shelves. MC watched for two minutes before clearing their throat.

“What are you doing?” MC asked.

Lucifer jumped and turned around with an eyebrow raised. “Nothing, and if I were you, I’d keep this to yourself.”

MC shakes their head and leaves. So Satan was right. Lucifer goes out of his way to fuck with him.

Mammon-

MC was walking by the bathroom and stopped at the door after hearing someone wailing.

Wait… that was Mammon singing that song they played for him. Treasure by Bruno Mars. How fucking cute! MC ducks closer to the door and smiles brightly. Damn, he was cute. Was he singing about them?

MC sneakily opens the door to see Mammon in the bathtub. He was holding up Goldie and singing. Ugh.

MC moves to shut the door, but he sees. “MC, wait! It’s not what it looks like!”

Moving down the hallway as fast as they can, Mammon was trying to hold up his towel. “Wait! MC! Come on!”

Leviathan-

Leviathan showed MC his recent picture compilations he was creating for TSL and Rui-chan on his editing software. It was impressive.

Levi gets up to retrieve a figure he modeled one of the frames out of when MC clicks the other project he had minimized. Oh, boy, they shouldn’t have done that.

“MC, I have the,” he stopped dead.

The project was massively just about MC. Quite a few of the shots were of them together. He even had little hearts littering the frames.

“Levi, I love you, but I have to go,” MC murmured with the brightest blush and left the room.

Satan-

MC and Satan decide to go to the cat shelter. They were petting all the cats and feeding them treats. It was all in all a great day.

However, when MC glances over at Satan, where he’s ducked down to a pair of kittens, he was holding up his hand, and their little paws would touch his palm.

“Good, one more time,” Satan said.

“W-what are you doing?” MC asked.

Satan glanced over with wide eyes. “Teaching them to high five…” he trailed off.

MC put their hands on their cheeks and walked out of the room. All of this to hide the incredible blush and giddy laughter they were suppressing.

Asmo-

MC was skipping up to Asmo’s room to tell him about this sale. It was awesome, and he was going to obsess.

However, when they opened the door, they regretted it. Asmo was making out pretty hardcore with Solomon on the bed. Appalled? Shocked? MC didn’t know which.

“There’s always room for my other human!” Asmo giggled when he caught sight of MC.

Solomon covered his face. “Asmodeus, really.”

MC clapped a hand over their mouth and turned in a mechanical fashion before retreating.

“I’m never opposed to a humane threesome!” Asmo called after them.

Beel-

MC was working out with Beel. Well, more that he was working out, and they were putting chips in his mouth. It was a very gratifying experience. Both would laugh and enjoy this ridiculous routine.

It was all going like a well-oiled machine. Well… until Beel bit MC’s finger. Now it wasn’t that hard, but hard enough to make them jerk backward.

“Oh, MC, I’m sorry!” Beel puffed as he stopped his pushups.

MC took their finger to their mouth and grumbled. “That hurt, but I’m okay. You won't hurt me again, Beel.”

“Did Beel try to eat you like in your dream? I was hoping for screams and not whimpers,” Belphie murmured with a smirk as he turned over on his bed.

MC turned beyond what was considered red on the color spectrum. “I gotta go,” they rushed out and climbed off the floor.

“Wait, MC, I promise I won’t eat you!” Beel shouted as he rushed after them.

“Or he’ll try lower!” Belphie snickered.

Belphie-

MC was relaxing with Belphie in the sitting room. He was resting against their shoulder, and MC’s legs were over his lap. It was a typical evening of lazy bones being lazy cuddle buddies.

Asmo scrunched his nose while walking into the room. “It’s really unfair,” he started.

MC glanced over. “What?”

“Why is Belphie always getting to sleep with you! You never sleep with me!” He cried while crossing his arms.

“Because I do it better, Asmo. MC likes to be on top,” Belphie murmured through sleep.

MC’s eyes grew as Asmo rolled his. “Yeah, sure, like anyone would believe you fuck better than me.”

“What do you think the pillow is for? Muffled cries,” Belphie smiled over at Asmo.

MC puffed and stood up, nearly toppling over the table. Their hands landed on it for balance.

“Thank you for assuming the position, MC,” Belphie chuckled.

Needless to say, MC bolted from the room with bright mortification.

Solomon-

Magic. Always magic and human experiences. Today was no exception while they were practicing in the sitting room at Purgatory Hall.

They were working on transformative magic. Advanced and complicated.

“Now, watch, the strings will change to bracelets,” Solomon declared as he performed the spell.

MC bobbed their head as the white string did change into silver bracelets. “Cool.”

Simeon glanced over from his book. “Always talented, Solomon.”

Luke looked up from his phone and seemed wholly unamused by the situation.

“Now, it’s your turn.”

MC made the gesture and sputtered on the words. Instead of the string on their wrists turning into bracelets, they coiled around their hands and connected in a binding. MC gasped and struggled as they tried to climb off the ground.

“I didn’t realize you liked being tied up. I would have offered in private,” Solomon teased.

MC’s cheeks filled with blood and tripped as they moved toward the exit of the room.

“Solomon!” Simeon groaned.

Solomon was laughing. “I didn’t mean it. Well, maybe just a little, MC.”

They didn’t give him the chance to tease them anymore. MC struggled with the front door and began to march down the path.

“MC, you look like a demon meal like that! Come back,” Solomon called out, trying to catch them scurrying off. He laughed while following them all the way back to House of Lamentation.

Barbatos-

They were cooking together because he offered lessons. MC was always happy to help and learn to perfect a skill.

“Very good,” Barbatos nodded at MC finishing the sauce.

“Thanks, Barbatos. You’re going to get me cooking well enough to put any human to shame,” MC laughed.

“Maybe, but you were a proficient cook beforehand,” Barbatos said.

“I’ll have to cook for you sometime. Just tell me what you’d like to eat,” MC smiled.

Barbatos blushed and cleared his throat. “Anything you would like to make, MC. It isn’t often someone would like to return the favor for me.”

MC glanced over to see Barbatos had turned to the large pot on the stove. “I mean it. Whatever you want, Barbatos. I’d like to do something nice for you.”

“Why don’t you go see if we have any fresh greens?” He murmured.

MC scowled at the demon but agreed. They walked to the other side of the kitchen and went into the fridge. Glancing at the side, MC could see Barbatos subtly wiping his eyes through the reflection.

“Hey, Barbatos, I’m going to run to the restroom. I’ll be right back,” MC said and left the kitchen.

“Thank you,” Barbatos murmured as they left.

Diavolo-

Diavolo and MC were walking together through RAD as Barbatos trailed. They were on the way to a meeting, and MC was headed to lunch. This was usual, rare, but something not out of the norm. He would get his human questions in during these moments.

“MC, I heard the oddest thing from Asmodeus the other day,” Diavolo declared.

“What did he say now?” MC questioned with suspicion.

“There’s this game that you and he play. It has to do with figures of some sort,” Diavolo hummed.

“Figures?” MC asked.

Diavolo tapped his chin and glanced back. “Barbatos, what was it called again?”

“Daddy or Uncle energy, I believe, my lord,” Barbatos said while stifling a smile.

“Ah, yes, that one. Is this one of those parental human games?” Diavolo inquired while staring at MC.

Ded. one hundred percent. “No, um, Lord Diavolo, I gotta go,” MC puffed and tried to gesture toward the cafeteria.

“Wait, but he said you saw me as a father type? That’s very sweet,” Diavolo beamed with the smallest hint of mischief.

“Bye, Lord Diavolo! Bye, Barbatos!” MC rushed out and sprinted toward the cafeteria.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” Diavolo called after them with a bout of laughter.

Asmo was killed later that night. (Not really, but it could happen…)

Simeon-

Simeon and MC were in the kitchen of Purgatory Hall, baking. They had just finished the batter for the fingerprint cookies with a celestial recipe. Simeon was his usual serene self.

“Simeon, how long are these going to take?” MC questioned with the timer in hand.

“Put the timer on for fifteen minutes, and we’ll check then. I still am not confident that Solomon doesn’t tinker with the oven for experiments,” Simeon laughed.

MC set the timer and grinned. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“He is a very unique human,” Simeon noted with a smile.

MC laughed while picking up the towel on the counter. “Here, let me help you clean up. You have some flour on your face.”

Simeon bent enough so that MC could clear his features of the flour, all the while beaming. It was a very cozy experience to bake with the angel. He took the towel from MC’s hand and nodded.

“Let me assist. You have some as well,” he noted and wiped their cheeks with soft swipes.

Simeon’s eyes were focused on the task.

“Simeon! Solomon took my hat for a spell again!” Luke yelled as he walked into the room.

MC jumped and accidentally pressed their lips to the space just next to Simeon’s mouth. “Oh, my God!” MC puffed and bounced back.

That just made it even worse. MC clapped a hand over their mouth and rushed from the room. Fire was cooler than their face. How were they ever going to explain that?

#Obey me #obey me fandom #obey me humor #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me solomon #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me mc #obey me drabble #obey me headcanons

500 notes · View notes

fiddlezips · 3 years ago

Text

Beans | Yordle!Silco x Reader

Pairing: Yordle!Silco x GN!Reader Word count: 1.6k Rating: General Audiences Notes: This is a parody, mostly. Have you seen the “Señor Macho Solo” episode of 30 Rock? If so, you’ll know where this is going.

It's a beautiful day in the Undercity.

Okay, that's a bit of a stretch. It's a slightly less smoggy day than usual, perhaps. You're not even sure it's daytime, to be honest; the high cliff-sides and lack of natural light tend to mess with your perception of time. It also gives you a headache as you try to figure out which parts are below sea-level and which parts are directly underneath Piltover and then also -

You've gone cross-eyed trying to figure it out. Fine, let's restart:

As per usual, it's a habitually shitty period of time in the architecturally complex area that you call “home”.

You're on your way back from your menial job. You don't work in the mines, nor somewhere as narratively interesting as the brothel, and you graduated from “morally questionable child labourer” many years ago. No. You're a sales assistant.

You work in a shop where people squint at your name badge and inevitably pronounce your name wrong. You don't even sell anything noteworthy. You don't secretly distribute Shimmer and none of your products are infused with Chem-Tech. You sell shoes. Exclusively shoes. You once floated the idea of branching into socks to your manager, and they just stared at you in disgust until you excused yourself for the day (or evening or night).

So that's you. Aside from a keen interest in reading and maybe a slightly overactive imagination, you're pretty normal. You also have the uncanny ability to suspend your disbelief, but that's hardly relevant.

Well, there is one thing that makes you stand out: you love animals. Poros, crocodiles, plague-infested rats. And whilst a love of animals isn't all that special, you're the reckless type of fanatic who'll jump into traffic for the chance of petting a dog.

Which is exactly what gets you into your current predicament.

Across the street you spot the cutest puppy and—as anybody would in your situation, surely—scramble towards it. After your difficult shift at work, you need this fuzzy pick-me-up. You need it, damn it. As you kneel down beside the little guy, your cuteness-clouded brain causes some variation of “look at this pupper!” or “who's a fluffy boy?” to tumble out of your mouth. But the moment your hand touches fur, you realise the extent of your mistake.

Because you have not simply accosted a random pet on the pavement like you are wont to do at least five times a week: you've just grabbed the very fluffy ears of the very scary Eye of Zaun.

Indignant, Silco spins around and gives you a look of utter disdain. Gods. It's the socks incident all over again.

He may be a Yordle (and tiny and fuzzy) but you expect it wouldn't be a tall order for him to murder you then and there. You'd probably welcome it, since your mind is already fried trying to come up with an excuse for your actions. You can't imagine “I thought you were a dog” will go down too well, so you keep your mouth shut.

'Can I help you?' he drawls, the corner of his lip twitching into a sneer. His little nose is pink and cat-like and wrinkles with his disgust and you suddenly wonder if he has beans on his paws or feet.

'Beans,' you say, very smartly.

He narrows his one good eye and echoes, in a voice that makes the word sound utterly ridiculous, 'Beans.'

You feel your grasp on life begin to slip as it flashes before your eyes: an embarrassing childhood memory you were certain you'd repressed, a significant moment with a friend or family member or stranger, your reflection in the store window this morning showing how you currently look and therefore not requiring a specific description.

But, you decide, you will not die this day. There are still animals to be petted, noses to be booped, beans to be squeezed until they become danger beans. So you take a breath, steady yourself, and call forth your ultimate bullshitting skills from your now pivotal time as a sales assistant.

'Beans here long?' you ask, and you put on your very best and definitely not unnatural-looking smile.

And that's how it started.

---

Now you're on a date, Silco sitting opposite you, his tiny paw holding a wine glass. He brings the glass to his face, sticks out his tongue, and laps at the wine. You can't handle it. You want to scratch his ears and tickle his chin and shake him like a maraca.

He talks a lot, you've noticed. Everything he says sounds like a metaphor and to be honest you're struggling to keep up. Is he a monster? Are you a monster? Is the waiter a monster? Part of you wishes you were back home, indulging in self-insert fiction, but you can't deny that Silco is cute. The cuteness is worth your... well, whatever you're feeling right now.

How were you to know that Silco preferred the more aggressive approach when it came to courtship? That by accidentally manhandling him in the street you captured his interest? You're flattered, you really are, but you're not sure if this is going to work.

Do Yordles even have -

No. Don't think about it.

'I must thank you for your forwardness,' he says, monologues on hold for the moment. 'I rarely get the chance to relax these days, least of all in pleasant company such as this.'

You're about to tell him it's fine, that you're enjoying yourself too (you think), when the waiter brings over the food. Your plate is divine, everything incredibly edible and barely a tentacle in sight. And Silco's...

You stare. It looks like kibble.

No, it's not. It can't be. Sir, this is a restaurant. You go to speak, to question his choice. Then he grabs a pellet, a dry and brown pellet, and crunches it between his teeth.

It's kibble.

You quickly excuse yourself to the bathroom where you spend the next fifteen minutes simultaneously laughing and screaming.

---

As it turns out, once you get past the initial issues, you actually like spending time with Silco. Sure, he always stinks of smoke and technically he's a drug kingpin and every now and then you see him style his hair by licking his paw and running it over his head, but you like him.

And, strangely enough, he likes you too.

You don't know exactly why, at least not until he tells you and your stomach drops.

'You're one of the rare few people who actually treats me like a person,' he tells you. 'You respect me.'

You decide not to mention that you have a laser pen in your pocket and that you were sneakily going to see if he would chase it around the room. Instead you force a very awkward grin and ignore the suspicious look he gives you.

Later on, you're about to head out, and Silco offers to escort you home. Technically he offers to provide you with bodyguards, but your foolish brain can't stop its instinctive response of:

'Walkies? You want to go walkies?'

He stares at you. He stares at you in utter contempt.

'When we first met,' he begins, fuzzy forehead somehow creased with the intensity of his frown, 'you thought I was a dog, didn't you?'

'Yes I did,' you answer immediately.

He sighs, his ears drooping, and he holds a paw to his forehead. 'Of course. Jinx warned me it was too good to be true.'

You catch sight of his lips pulled back in a snarl before he turns away. Whatever apologies you attempt, he doesn't seem to listen.

So you make an offer. You ask him to think about it, to give you another chance. You tell him that you like him, that you want to be with him for who he is and not how adorably fluffy he is. And if he wants to, if he can find it in his little furry heart to look past your dumb mistake and know that you'll never make it again, that you'll wait for him in The Lanes tomorrow.

You don't know if he'll be there. But—and you're surprised to realise this—you want him to be.

---

The street is busy. And today—it is a day—is beautiful for real.

You've made up your mind. You like Silco. Beneath the fluffy exterior is a horrible little man, and you're okay with that. You like the fuzz, the ears, the beans and the murder. Okay, maybe you like that last one slightly less than the others, but still.

Against your better judgement, against your common sense, he makes you happy and you are here for it. You scan the street, your optimistic heart pounding in your chest, hoping he wants you too.

Suddenly, you spot him, a familiar mass of fur. You rush over, grinning, and kneel beside him.

'Beans here long?' you laugh, as you move to scratch his ear.

He's so fluffy. He's...

He's too fluffy.

Horrified, you slowly crane your neck upwards to see a very confused lady glaring down at you. And beneath your palm, fuzzy and adorable and very delighted, is a Poro.

You open your mouth to speak just as you hear a sigh behind you.

Silco is stood there, a bouquet of flowers clasped in his tiny paws and a huge look of disappointment on his face. His eyes are round, dejected, but the emotion is quickly blinked away. He shakes his head, tosses the flowers on the ground, and leaves.

You want to call out to him. To apologise one last time. But the happy Poro is licking your cheek, snuffling enthusiastically, and you quickly—more quickly than Silco would like, you think—realise you'll be okay.

You bury your face in the Poro's fur, just in case Silco were to look back and catch you grinning.

#Arcane #Silco #Silco x Reader #fanfiction #this is very silly but I could not resist lol #Silcordle AU

41 notes · View notes

dreamerstreamer · 4 years ago

Text

Slip Up

Pairing: Dream / Clay x f!reader

Summary: One literal slip up leads to another and, well—it isn’t pretty.

Warning: includes depictions of anxiety as a result of exposure

Word Count: 5.0k

A/N: requested by an anon who wanted something about a secret relationship! i hope you enjoy! on a more serious note though, don’t harass your creators and the people they care about. seriously, don’t.

With one last click, Clay let out a sigh, grabbing his headphones and setting them down on his desk. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the still clip on his monitor with a hint of a frown tugging at his lips.

After two long hours, he was officially tired of listening to George’s screams ringing through his ears. Sure, they were funny in the heat of the moment when he was recording, but having to listen to the same screams on loop while editing?

He shivered.

No thanks. He needed a break.

Grabbing his phone, he pushed open the door to his studio and headed for the stairs. I wonder where [Y/N] is, he thought to himself as he climbed the basement stairs two at a time. It’s been a while since I last caught a glimpse of her.

Surfacing on the first floor, he stuck his head into the living room, glancing around for a brief moment only to deduce that you weren’t there. With a huff, he spun on his heel. If she’s not there, he thought, his strides confident and full of purpose, then she’s definitely in—

He stepped into the kitchen, his gaze landing on your figure half-tucked behind the open fridge door almost instantaneously. He smiled. Bingo.

Slowly, he crept forward, slipping around the kitchen island to silently walk up to you. Before you even noticed he was there, he leaned down next to your ear and whispered.

“Boo.”

Letting out a sharp yell, you whirled, your wide eyes practically drowning in the amusement filling Clay’s emerald gaze as he let out a long wheezing laugh. “Clay!” you gasped, holding a hand over your heart. “You scared me, oh my god.”

His wheezing only grew louder in volume as he slapped his knee, still cackling at your distraught expression. Puffing your cheeks in a pout, you turned your back to him, staring back into the fridge. “Meanie.”

Struggling to regain his breath, Clay leaned in to wrap his arms around your waist in a hug from behind. You could feel his chest shaking against your back with laughter, beginning to slowly die down with each passing second. A moment later, he dipped his head down to press a kiss to your cheek. “Sorry,” he hummed. “I just thought it’d be funny to make you jump.” His eyes glinted with mischief. “I was right. It was.”

“Not for me,” you grumbled, and he let out the tiniest of wheezes next to your ear.

“Alright, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, kissing your neck. “How are you doing? I haven’t seen you all morning.”

You relaxed into his warm touch, melting into the feeling of his soft lips on your skin. Sending him a tired smile, you closed the fridge door and focused your attention onto him. “I’m alright, but I’m feeling kind of tired,” you admitted. “You get kind of sick of working on an assignment after the third, you know?”

He snuggled closer to you, smiling into your neck. “Well, I mean, I wouldn’t know, but I understand your point.”

You rolled your eyes at him, leaning back into his figure. “Right, I forgot that you didn’t go to college, Mr. Streamer.”

Clay laughed at your words. “You’re just that much smarter than me, then.” He poked at your cheek affectionately. as he cooed, “Look at you, my super smart college student girlfriend.”

You turned in his arms to face him, frowning at him. “Clay, you say that like you aren’t considered to be one of the best, if not the best Minecraft player in the world. Give yourself some more credit.”

He brushed a stray hair away from your face, his gaze fond as he held you a little closer. “Okay, but only because you told me to.”

You snorted, sinking deeper into his arms. “If your followers could see you now, I’m sure they’d be spamming ‘simp’ in chat.”

He chuckled. “They already do that whenever I hang out with George—I can’t even imagine to what extent it would increase if they knew about you.”

You offered him a smile, but it felt forced. The question had been swirling in the back of your mind for a little while now, and it was just sitting on the tip of your tongue, now. You had to ask now, or it would devour you alive.

“Hey, um, Clay,” you said, your tone shifting as you fidgeted slightly in his embrace. “Do you—do you think we’ll ever tell people and your fans about, well—” You gestured to the space between the two of you. “—about us?”

He paused for a moment, then let out a soft breath. “I want to,” he said. “Oh man, you don’t know just how badly I want to share you with the whole world and show them you’re mine.” You felt your cheeks grow warm, your lips instinctively curling up at his words.

“But I don’t think they’re ready for that just yet,” he added in a wistful tone. He pulled back, sending you a crooked smile. “How about we cross that bridge when we get there? I know that when we do get around to it, they’re gonna love you as much as I do, I promise.”

You bobbed your head, feeling the anxiety in your gut disintegrate. “Okay. Thanks, Clay.”

He reached up to ruffle your hair, cooing at the small whine you let out. “Anything for you.”

Knocking his hand off your head, you grinned at him. “On another note, what have you been up to? Instead of sleeping in late, of course, you lucky butt.”

He swayed back and forth, bringing you along with him. “I spent a lot of time editing some videos that are still in the works. I’m gonna be streaming for a few hours in a bit, though. If you need anything, you know where you can find me.” He grabbed your hand in his, fiddling with your fingers with a slight squeeze. “Are you still gonna be working on your assignment later, or will I be allowed to bother you?”

Your mouth twitched at his pouty tone, and you squeezed his hand back. “I actually might go out to the grocery store. Patches’s cat food is on sale, so I might stock up on that, and I kind of wanted some snacks for studying. Was there anything you wanted while I was gone?”

He hummed, thinking for a moment. “Not really, to be honest.” Slipping his hand into yours, he began leading you to the front of the house. “Here, let me see you off.”

You felt your heart swell with love as he handed you your bag from where it hung on the coat rack while you laced up your shoes. Clay was always so attentive to you and your needs, never failing to make sure you had everything you needed at the drop of a hat. You were really too lucky to have him.

“Do you have your mask?” he asked when you stood up.

With a nod, you fished it out from your pocket, waving it in your hands. “Mhm.”

He smiled. “Awesome.” Opening his arms, he pulled you in for one last hug, inhaling the scent of your flowery shampoo before swinging the door open and watching you step outside, car keys in hand.

“I’ll be back soon!” you cried, waving to him from the driveway.

He waved back, leaning against the doorframe. “See you!” he called back. “Take care out there.”

“I will!”

His viridian gaze trailed after you and your car as you sped off down the road, knowing all too well exactly which radio station you had inevitably turned on. Well, no matter. He supposed it was time to stream, now. Locking the door behind him, Clay strode down to the basement, sliding into his desk chair with his hand on his mouse. Slipping his headphones over his head, he rolled his shoulders and opened up Twitch.

Taking one last deep breath, he grinned and pressed the ‘start streaming’ button.

“Hey, guys!”

You grunted as you pushed the front door open, sliding your shoes off as you heaved the last sack of cat food onto the ground with a loud thud.

And that’s all three. Finally.

Pushing the door closed using your foot, you placed your hands on your hood in determination.

Now, to get them downstairs.

You grimaced, glaring down at the offending bags. This was going to sooo much fun.

Some things never ceased to amaze you. Like how smart Clay was, even as dorky as he could be. Like how fast he blown up. Like how much you loved him.

And like how much cat food Patches managed to eat without getting fat.

Seriously, you thought to yourself with a grumble, how does she still look the same even though she goes through a whole bag of cat food in like... two weeks? It’s just not fair.

“I wish I had your metabolism,” you muttered, shooting a glare at the feline in question. “You suck.”

Patches was perched on the stair railings a few feet away from you, grooming her paws. The moment you spoke her name, she lifted her head to look at you, her ears flicking. You stared at each other for a few seconds before she let out a soft meow, jumping down to rub against your leg.

“Oh, who am I kidding?” you murmured to yourself, your heart swelling in your chest at the feeling of her nuzzling her small head against your calf. “I could never hate you. You’re too cute.”

You turned your attention back to the three sacks of cat food you now had in your possession. Patches’s domain mostly consisted of the basement, where you kept her toys and costumes. Consequently, that’s where the cat food was also stored, albeit out of sight so that Patches wouldn’t get any ideas. Like her owner, she had a penchant for mischief, but you loved them both anyways.

The main problem here was getting the cat food down the stairs.

I’m a strong independent woman, you thought to yourself with a small smile. Also, Clay is streaming, so I can’t ask him for help even if I wanted to. Bending over, you hoisted the first sack into your arms. That’s okay, though. A few stairs can’t stop me.

Taking a deep breath, you trudged toward the basement, carefully taking the stairs one step at a time down. The last thing you wanted was to trip while carrying the cat food of all things.

Unfortunately, it seemed that you jinxed yourself.

Everything went fine for the first two bags, each sack having safely made their way onto their proper spot on their designated cabinet shelf. Each time you tread down the stairs, you would take a quick peek over at Clay’s recording studio, smiling to see him amicably chatting with his viewers while completing another speedrun. With a smile on your face, you climbed the stairs once more to come face to face with your final obstacle.

You grinned despite your arms aching from having done so much heavy lifting. Last bag. Let’s go.

Rolling up your sleeves, you began the same process you had been running with for the past two trips: pick up the bag and head down the stairs, making sure to step carefully.

What you hadn’t accounted for, though, was Patches’s presence.

You were just about halfway down the stairs when Patches darted in front of you. With a soft yelp, you stepped back to avoid her, letting her bounce down the stairs ahead of you. A brief breath of relief escaped your lips, but it was short lived.

Just then, your sock’s grip on the floor gave out, and you felt gravity wrap a hand around your ankle.

Oh, crap.

A shout tore its way out of your throat as as you tumbled forward, landing on the ground with a resounding crash. Beside you, the bag of cat food smacked into the wall and landed with a loud crunch.

That can’t be good, you vaguely thought, your mind fogged up by a cloud of pain.

Just a few rooms over, Clay froze mid-stream, his mouse coming to a halt as his entire body went stiff. Without even thinking to mute himself, he tore his headphones off his head, your name flying from his lips in a flurry of worry as he rushed out the room.

“[Y/N]! [Y/N], are you okay?”

On the ground, you winced, pain shooting up your side as you pulled yourself forward. In an instant, Clay was on the ground by your side—one hand on the small of your back helping you sit up, the other brushing your hair away from your face.

“[Y/N],” he breathed, panic seeping into his face as his eyes scanned every inch of your face for harm, “are you good?” You nodded, but it did nothing to ease the worry in his expression. “Tell—tell me.” He held three fingers in front of your face. “How many fi—”

“Three,” you replied immediately. You offered a pained smile, stifling another wince as you did so.

He leaned in closer to your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “How badly are you hurt?”

You shifted your spine, trying to gauge the pain. The ache was dull at most, minimal at best. “Only a little.”

He pressed his forehead to yours, his breathing ragged. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You let out a small sigh, sending him a reassuring smile. You appreciated his protectiveness, you really did, but sometimes he really did go the extra mile. “Clay,” you said softly, “I’m okay, really. I promise I’m okay. I just tripped and fell.” Then you glanced behind him, letting out a deeper sigh. “The cat food, on the other hand? Not so much.”

The bag must have ripped open when it fell, its own weight having collapsed on itself and tearing a hole right through the bottom. The individual pellets of cat food where strewn all across the floor, littering the ground like pebbles. And of course, Patches was already starting to nibble away. Pesky girl.

Clay stood up, reaching a hand out toward you. “Here, I’ll help you clean up.”

You took his hand, shaking your head as he pulled you to your feet. “No, no. You should get back to your stream.” Your brows knit together. “I interrupted it, didn’t it? Your followers will be waiting for you. You should go back.”

He shook his head, his expression resolute. “Contrary to popular belief, [Y/N],” he said, “you’re more important to me than just one stream. I’ll probably just end it when I’m done here, anyway.” He squeezed your hand, his gaze kind. “Let me help you. Please.”

With your heart fluttering in your chest, you squeezed it back.

“Okay.”

Clay grabbed the two of you a dustpan as you began to clean up the mess of cat food you had made on the floor. You whined about how you just wasted a sale by tripping down the stairs while he poked fun at your frustration, passing you Patches with the request of keeping her away from the food as he swept. In practically no time, you had nearly forgotten what had transpired at all, just happy to spend some time with your wonderful boyfriend next to you.

If only you knew just how much your little fall was going to blow up in your face.

You ran your tongue over your chapped lips, your gaze focused on your laptop screen as your mouse finally hit the submit button. Letting out a sigh, you finally let the stress seep out of your body as a small smile overtook your features.

Finally handed it in. Now, you didn’t have to worry about it anymore.

With a groan, you stretched your arms out above you, cracking your back. You’d been working away for a couple of hours now, but at long last, you were free for the weekend. Humming to yourself, you picked up your phone. You had set it to ‘do not disturb’ a while back, since it hadn’t stopped vibrating at one point. You hadn’t bothered to check why at the time, but you supposed you could spare some time for yourself before dinner.

Swiping your phone open, your thumb instinctively tapped on Twitter, a blue glow enveloping your screen before fading to dark. You hummed as you opened up the trending page, curiosity pawing at your backside. You had your bets on some trend going viral, but knowing the internet, it was probably some weird, random crap.

There were a handful of political memes topping the charts, as well as a #TGIF. You stifled a laugh as you scrolled a bit lower. Twitter sure was a weird place.

That was when a tag caught your eye.

#DreamExplain

Your thumb stopped, hovering over the screen. What? Explain what, exactly?

Then there—just few lines below that.

#WhoIs[Y/N]?

Your heart came to a screeching halt in your chest.

That was your name.

Trending. On Twitter.

Panic shot through your veins.

What the actual hell happened?

With a heavy feeling of disbelief sinking its claws into you, you tapped on your name, watching as hundreds of tweets shot past your eyes.

Who’s [Y/N] and how can I be her

dream explain?! oh mygood what was that !!!!

is [Y/N] Dream’s girlfriend or something

um ??? dream said the name [Y/N] on stream today then went afk for like 20 mins ??? then the stream just ended ???wtf ???

what’s @georgenotfound gonna do omggg nooo!!! his boyfriend!!!!!!

You felt sick to your stomach.

Oh god.

They knew who you were.

You wanted to throw up.

Stumbling to your feet, you made your way toward the kitchen where you knew you would find Clay, your phone clutched in a death grip between your fingers.

“C-Clay?”

He turned from where he was leaning against the counter, a smile lighting up his face at the sound of your voice. “Hey!” The moment his eyes landed on your face, his smile vanished. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“Have—” You swallowed, your palms beginning to sweat. “Have you checked Twitter recently?”

“Nope,” he hummed, pulling his phone out from his pocket. “What’s trending this time? Did some politician say something or—”

“I am,” you said ever so softly.

He froze, his phone going slack in his hand. “What?”

You glanced up from your feet. “I’m trending, Clay.”

A beat of silence. “What?!” he repeated, louder this time.

You felt an odd sense of weightlessness sinking onto your shoulders, and you felt yourself begin to ramble. “Crazy, right? Little old me, trending? Wild. Insane. Like, just wow.”

With each new phrase that leapt from your lips, Clay’s brows furrowed further. You could see the wheels in his head turning at full speed. Then, they stopped, and realization set in. Then came the horror.

Oh, dear god.

“[Y/N],” he whispered, taking a step toward you, “oh my god.”

“You’re also trending, by the way,” you continued, barreling ahead as your hands began wildly gesturing. You swallowed down the panic rising up your throat at full throttle. “It’s a shame that I’m not higher than you, but I guess we can’t win them all.”

“[Y/N],” he said again, “this is serious.”

You nodded, your expression still blank. “Oh, I know. I’m—”

Something in you snapped.

You sucked in a ragged breath. “Yeah, I’m—”

And out came the waterworks.

You collapsed to the ground, the sobs escaping your throat in uneven bursts. Clay’s arms were around you before you knew it, his hand cradling your head for the second time that day.

“Clay, Clay, Clay,” you choked out, your entire being dissolving into him. “Clay, they know who I am. They heard you.”

His grip tightened on you, murmuring sweet nothings in your ear. You sobbed harder, your tears soaking into his hoodie.

There was nowhere left to hide.

You hadn’t touched your phone in days. It hardly took more than a few minutes for your Twitter feed to have absolutely blown up with messages about you. Some positive, some negative, some neutral. While you appreciated the kind ones, you only had to read a handful of the not-so-kind ones for you to turn off your phone and hide it in a drawer. It wasn’t like you were going to even use it properly, what with its cracked screen.

The more time passed, the more acutely aware of the public’s knowledge of you became.

Your name was everywhere, supposed drawings of you were everywhere, you—you were everywhere.

You felt like you were suffocating in your own skin.

Clay knew that the slip up had been rough on you, and he didn’t blame you one bit. He had asked you what you needed, if you wanted him to take a few days off to spend more time with you. You had declined, sending him a tired smile.

“I... I think I just need some time to myself to think things over.”

He didn’t push you anymore than that, instead holding you close and pressing his lips to your cheek. For the next couple days, he vanished off of social media—no tweets, no streams, no videos. Nothing. While you busied yourself with class work, he focused on editing and planning ahead for the future. You both knew you were stalling, but right now, you just needed time.

A knock came from your door, a soft voice following just after.

“[Y/N]?”

You rolled over on the bed you shared, your eyes flickering up to see Clay standing in the doorway. The book you had brought in with you laid untouched on the nightstand next to you. You haven’t been able to properly bring yourself to enjoy something without thoughts of doubt seeping into your head.

What do they think of me? Do they like me? Will they approve of our relationship?

You were terrified out of your mind.

Clay approached the bed when he saw you move, gently sitting down next to you. “Are you doing any better?”

He patted the space on his leg, and you twisted your body to settle your head on his lap. “Sort of,” you murmured.

A moment passed as he took in your words. “Have you eaten?”

You nodded, your head just barely moving. “Yeah. Ate some leftover pasta.”

You fell quiet once more, simply listening to the sound of his breaths next to yours. Despite having been hearing next to nothing but silence for days now, you felt better knowing he was next to you.

“Hey,” he said softly, grabbing your attention once more. You turned your head towards him, his hand stroking your hair. His emerald eyes bore into yours, focused and sad. “Tell me what’s on your mind. You seem so distant, right now.”

Your gaze trailed up to the ceiling as you opened your mouth, trying to connect the mess of thoughts in your head into coherent sentences. “It’s just all so overwhelming,” you admitted. “All they know about me is my name and that I fell down the stairs, but it already feels like it’s way too much. I didn’t even spend that much time scrolling online, and I already know that there are more than just a few people freaking out.”

You looked up at him, your sad gaze mirroring his. “I can’t even imagine what it must feel like to have everyone begging you for a face reveal.”

The sadness in his eyes only seemed to grow deeper, and you felt something warm and watery wrap around your heart. “It’s my fault,” he whispered, pressing a hand over his eyes. “I should have muted myself. I shouldn’t have been so reckless. I just moved without thinking and—”

You pulled yourself upwards, turning to sit face to face with him. “Clay, don’t say that.” You reached out to grab him arm, pulling it away from his face. His gaze was watery, and you wished you never had to see him with that expression. “It’s not your fault, not at all. When you heard me fall, you thought of me right away, and I appreciate that.” You held his big hand in between your smaller ones, interlocking your fingers. “That just shows you care for me. Please don’t beat yourself up over what happened.” You offered him a timid smile. “I know that I’m not taking this all too well either, but we’re in this together, right?”

His lips twitched to mirror yours, but his tone was still tinged with a low sadness. “I know, it’s just... I hate seeing you like this, like you can’t live your life normally anymore because of me.”

Your hand reached up to stroke his cheek. “Hey, it’s alright,” you crooned. “Remember, they only know my first name—not even my last name—and that I tripped. They don’t know what I look like.” Your lips twitched. “Heck, they don’t even know what I sound like. I think I’ll be able to live my life just fine. It’s just a little bit... much to begin with.” You shot him a goofy smile. “I might have to use Twitter less, but you know my screen time usage is way too high anyway.”

A chuckle slipped from his lips, his eyes curving into two crescent moons. You felt your expression shift to mirror his almost naturally, but then the smile slowly crept off your face. “And, um, Clay,” you added, fidgeting slightly.

“Yeah?”

“These past two days, I gave what happened some more thought,” you began, “and I think...” You gulped. I think I want to introduce myself.”

His eyes widened, and suddenly his hands were on your face, his gaze focused intently on your face. “Are you positive?” he breathed. “You know you don’t have to do this, [Y/N].”

You nodded, feeling your resolve harden like a stone in your heart. “I know.” You offered him a bold smile. “It’s scary and kind of hard to think about, but I don’t want to leave everyone in the dark. I want to be by your side through thick and thin, no matter what.”

He paused, then pulled his hands away from your face. That sadness in his eyes had returned, and you felt your heart crack at the sight. “I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he said quietly, almost remorsefully. “I know that being with me is already a huge commitment, and this is just taking another huge step...”

You leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his shoulder. “Clay,” you said, staring down at your knee. “I’ve been here with you from the beginning, and I’ll be here until the end. I’m here with you for the long haul, okay?” You raised your head, shooting him a wicked grin. “You won’t be getting rid of me too easily.”

Just like that, his smile was back. “Oh, alright. Only because I love you so much, though.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair with a weary grin. “Well, if there’s anything that I’m sure is going to happen,” he said, “it’s that my fans are definitely going to call me a ‘simp’ even more than they already do.”

You flashed him a teasing smile. “Are they wrong, though?”

His eyes crinkled at the corners.

“No, they’re not.”

Swallowing, you stared long and hard at the microphone sitting in front of you.

You can do this.

“Are you ready?”

You sucked in a deep breath, feeling your hands shake in your lap.

“I—I think so.”

Clay pressed a kiss to the back of your neck, his left arm wrapping itself around your waist to pull you closer on his lap. With his right, he reached for the mouse. On his screen, he had his stream loaded up, with only a single mouse click standing between you and tens of thousands of viewers.

Feeling his eyes on you, you turned to look at him. With a small smile, he dipped his head down to press his lips to yours in a soft kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling back. Pulling back, he leaned his forehead against yours lovingly.

“You know, this is only about half as stressful as when I met your family,” you joked.

He snorted, the rumbling of his chest running along your back and into your thumping heart. “And they loved you just as much as I do. Once the rest of the world meets you,” he murmured just for you to hear, “they’re going to love you just the same. I swear it.”

You let your eyelids flutter shut, breathing in his scent of fresh linen and citrus. “I hope so.”

He shot you a cheeky wink. “Oh, I know so.”

You rolled your eyes at him, turning around to look at his monitor once more. “Cheese ball.” You didn’t have to turn to know that he was still grinning. Snuggling further back into his chest, you said, “Let’s start the stream, yeah?”

With a nod, he clicked the ‘start streaming’ button. Almost instantaneously, thousands of people joined the stream. You briefly glanced at the chat and felt yourself stiffen when you caught a brief glimpse of your name. Almost immediately, Clay’s hand was on yours, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb while you relaxed once more.

Sending you one last loving glance, he leaned towards his mic and began to speak. “Hey, guys! I know it’s been a little while since I last did a stream, and I know you guys have some questions. But first, there’s someone I want you guys to meet.”

His gaze flickered to you, and he gestured toward the mic. Taking a deep breath, you mustered up your courage and leaned forward.

“Hi there. My name is [Y/N].”

You felt his hand squeeze yours.

With a smile and a deep breath, you squeezed back.

“And I’m Dream’s girlfriend.”

2K notes · View notes

parsnipping · 2 years ago

Text

Are You Even Queer If You DON'T Have Worm Earrings

Here's a short and very queer Twitfic brought to you by worm on a string earrings //dabs Don't mind the tense change I just Do That while writing twitfics.

Hux has a hobby that he turned into a side job to get himself through the months of college when his financial aid is spread thin. He makes jewelry and trinkets out of random objects. Like worms on strings.

His friend Phas, the most butch lesbian he's ever known, convinced him to sell his wares on Etsy after multiple food bribes to get her own paws on them for herself and the rest of her polycule. In fact the whole group is basically a walking billboard for him.

He doesn't expect it to really get off the ground, but he makes an account anyway. It takes a few weeks before he's really making any sales, but out of nowhere he gets an order that has him nearly spitting out his coffee. "TWENTY EARRINGS, PHAS. TWENTY PAIRS."

"*And* they bought out the last of my stock of pride bracelets, the fake candy necklaces, and even the stupid fucking dick pendants!" She snorts into her drink. "I told you they were a good idea." "THAT'S NOT THE POINT!"

He recruits the polycule's help to box up the order and make sure everything is ticked off, only to realize as he's about to print the shipping label that the address is rather close to the college. He knows he shouldn't, but he's too curious where this big order is going.

Against all online safety advice, he messages the buyer. Turns out they DO live right near the school, in one of the cheap apartment complexes a block down. Hux offers to refund the person their shipping if they want to just pick it up in person.

The buyer sounds thrilled and offers to meet up at the coffee shop Hux often haunts. A nice, safe, public place. He's already got a good feeling about this. The next day he's there a few minutes before the meeting time, and he's antsy from both curiosity and excitement.

The person said they'd be 'hard to miss', but offered a description of a green sweater with G|END|ER across the chest. As expected, when the bell over the shop door rang and Hux looked up, he realized there was *no* way he'd miss that.

They're broad and tall, and clearly at home in their body and gender expression. Dark waves were pulled back in a half ponytail with a braid dangling by one ear, the G|END|ER sweater was offset by a white pleated skirt and a killer pair of Docs that made Hux's mouth water.

They caught sight of him, and immediately perked up with a smile Hux was pretty sure he'd melt from. "Hey! You weren't kidding about the ginger hair." "You weren't kidding about the sweater." "'Course not! Anyway, I'm Kylo, they/them." "Ah, Hux. He/him is fine."

"Nice. I'm really excited about that package by the way." It took Hux a moment to get his head out of the gutter, not helped in the least by how Kylo's legs looked in that skirt. "Right, here! I had some friends help out so we're 150% certain everything is in order."

As he handed Kylo the box, they grinned even wider and flicked out a key to cut open the tape. "Oh wow you even included really cute bags! That's perfect because some of these are gifts for some friends." When they got to one bag in particular, they muttered a small, "Yesss!"

It was one of the five or six pairs of worm earrings, and they immediately pulled them out to switch them with the studs they were wearing. "Do you know how long I've wanted a pair of these? Now I have not one but *many*." Hux felt a thrill in his chest to see them so happy.

"I'm glad you like them so much. I didn't think they'd sell very well, but my friend was really adamant that I at least try listing them." Kylo scoffed jokingly. "Are you kidding? Are you even queer if you DON'T have worm earrings?" "Fair point."

Hux fidgeted, wanting to extend their time together, and finally decided to shoot at least *a* shot. "Can I get you a coffee while we're here? As a thanks for such a big order." Kylo was happily flicking the long, fuzzy worms, and grinned at Hux's offer. "I'd like that, thanks."

Before he knew it, Hux had managed to spend five hours with Kylo, just talking and laughing, getting to know each other and bonding over shared experiences. It wasn't until the shop owner leaned over the bar to remind them of closing time that Hux realized it had been so long.

He didn't really want to leave, but started packing away his things. Kylo must have caught on to his hesitation, because they leaned over to get his attention, still pinning him with that grin. "So I know it's pretty quick to ask but... you think we could hang out a bit longer?"

A wave of relief washed over him and he smiled right back. "Are you thinking like the diner or something more private?" A hint of mischief glinted in Kylo's eyes, and Hux could already tell he was in for it. "Your place or mine?" He'd have to thank Phas later for her brilliance.

#sproutwrites #twitfic #twitterfic #twitter fic #kylux #kylo x hux #kylo/hux #queer #nonbinary kylo ren #kylo ren is a they/them

21 notes · View notes

engie-ivy · 3 years ago

Text

Marlene’s little brother has a thing for Sirius, because who doesn't have a thing for Sirius? Marlene is freaking out, and everyone thinks it's just hilarious. Remus would've thought it was hilarious too, had Marlene’s little brother not been very close in age, cute, witty, and oh so bloody charming.

Somewhat longer fic that will be added to my Crush Confessions Series! 3756 words, so not that long. Wolfstar Fluff, of course😎

Muggle Charms

James Potter’s garden party is the event of the summer. Everyone gets together at the Potter estate for a day of listening to music, swimming in the lake (yes, there’s a lake on the grounds of the Potter estate), and playing friendly Quidditch matches. Mrs Potter walks around with all sorts of delicious foods, James and Sirius fly their brooms above the lake and make bets who dares to jump off from the greatest height, Mary and Emmeline are sunbathing and make bets who will need to be healed first.

It had started the summer after first year with just the four Marauders, but every year, their number has grown, and this year is the largest group thus far.

Marlene McKinnon is last to arrive, and, as usual, her arrival doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Everyone, come meet my little brother!” She shouts across the field.

The McKinnons have four children. Marlene’s mother and two of her siblings are Muggles, while the rest have magical abilities. Marlene’s sister is the oldest of the siblings. She’s a Muggle who works as a primary school teacher. Despite growing up with a father who’s a wizard, she has always felt slightly uncomfortable around magic, but she loves her family fiercely and is very protective over her younger siblings. As she’s much older than Marlene, she has always been more like a second mother.

Next comes Marlene’s older brother, who’s wizard, but has finished Hogwarts long ago. He now works in the Sales Department for a company that develops novel potions against levitation- and portkey-sickness. According to Marlene he’s a serious businessman by day, and a giant goofball by night.

Last is Marlene’s younger brother. He’s a Muggle, but where Marlene’s sister likes to pretend magic doesn’t exist, he thinks it mighty fascinating. He and Marlene are incredibly close, writing each other constantly and hanging out as often as they can when Marlene was home from Hogwarts. She has never brought him to James’ garden party, though. He works in the Food Service Industry, and the bright summer days on which James plans his parties are the days on which he most likely has to work. This year, however, he had managed to get the day off.

The first thing Remus thinks is that the McKinnons have good genes. He can’t really tell which of the two siblings is older, which means they must be very close in age. The boy has the same thick, blond hair and bright blue eyes as Marlene, as well as the same freckles from the sun. He’s short for a guy, barely taller than Marlene, but he’s quite muscular, with broad shoulders. All in all, Marlene’s younger brother is a very cute guy.

“Everyone, this is Miles!” Marlene says, when everyone has gathered around. “Let’s see... Here we have James Potter, he’s the host.”

Miles grins at James. “Some house you’ve got here, mate. Thanks for having me!”

James grins back and lifts his beer. “Cheers, mate!”

“James is Lily’s boyfriend,” Marlene says. “You’ve already met Lily-” Miles gives Lily a warm smile “-and of course you know Dorcas.”

“Hullo Dorky.”

“Hiya Miley.”

“And here we have my other girls, Alice Fortescue, Mary McDonald and Emmeline Vance.” Marlene points each of the girls out, and Miles gives them all a friendly nod.

“And these two are the Prewetts, Fabian and Gideon- don’t worry about who’s who, none of us actually knows.”

“Oi!”

“And this is Caradoc Dearborn, and this Benjy Fenwick, so miraculously you’re not the shortest guy here.”

“Marlene!”

“And here we have the rest of the renegades, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black.”

The chance in Miles is instant.

The polite smile he was wearing turns into a coy smile, as he gives Sirius a not-so-subtle once-over, though Remus doesn’t think it was ever meant to be subtle. Miles takes a step forward towards Sirius. “Well, hello there.”

Remus can’t blame him. He would’ve reacted the same had he been in Miles’ position (alright, maybe he would’ve turned into a blushing, stuttering mess and forget his own name if he were suddenly faced with a guy like Sirius, instead of step forward with an enticing smile and flirtatious greeting, but that’s beside the point). Sirius looks bloody amazing. His swimming trunks are clinging to his legs, and his damp hair is hanging over his bare chest, with little droplets dripping down his muscular body.

Sirius grins knowingly at Miles. “Hi.”

Marlene’s head whirls around from Miles to Sirius to Miles and back to Sirius, so fast Remus worries she might get a whiplash.

“No,” she says. “No, nope, uh-uh, absolutely not. Not. Happening. No.”

She steps between her brother and Sirius, facing the latter, and jabbing a finger against his chest. “You are not going to try anything on my little brother, got it?”

Sirius holds up his hands and takes a step back. “I only said hi.”

Marlene looks at him suspiciously, like she suspects Sirius saying hi is some sort of secret seduction technique (which would actually explain a lot).

“C’mon Marls.” Miles moves to stand next to his sister, and throws an arm over her shoulder. He winks at Sirius. “We all just want to have a good time, don’t we?”

Marlene’s face is getting more red by the second. Her fingers are clutching her cardboard plate, causing it to rumple. She’s clenching her jaw, while intently staring at the pair a bit further on the field.

“I can’t bloody believe it,” she hisses. “If Black thinks I’ll let him hook up with my little brother, he has another thing coming!”

Miles had managed to catch Sirius when he went to grab a drink, and they have been chatting apart from the rest of the group for about half an hour now, to Marlene’s great distress, and everyone else’s amusement. Well, everyone else except for Remus, but he thinks he’s been hiding it quite well.

Remus doesn’t know how the guy does it, but Miles somehow manages to stand closer and closer to Sirius. He’s looking up at him through his lashes, with those big blue eyes and that damned smile, sometimes even going as far as to bite his lip. Sirius has definitely been blushing at some point!

While Remus is the only one who can emphasize with Marlene’s distress over the situation, he really doesn’t like how she’s blaming it all on Sirius, while evidently its her brother who’s acting like a little minx.

“Honestly, Marlene,” Lily says, shaking her head. “Didn’t you talk to Miles about there being an incredibly hot, single gay guy present?”

Remus agrees. Marlene should’ve known what would happen when she decided to introduce her brother to Sirius! You cannot bring him here knowing Sirius is looking like he does, and expect him not to react!

Marlene huffs indignantly. “My little brother is a precious angel who’s not interested in such a thing as ‘hot, single men’!”

Lily looks at Miles and Sirius. Miles seems to be laughing at something Sirius said, and touches his upper arm while doing so, letting his hand slide down Sirius’ bicep. Lily turns her head back to Marlene and raises her eyebrow.

Marlene just folds her arms over her chest and pointedly looks away.

Later, when Miles reaches up to brush a strand of hair from Sirius’ face, Marlene’s face has taken on a more purple colour. By this time, she has started angrily chewing on her cardboard plate.

Luckily, everyone’s too busy making fun of Marlene to notice Remus looks like he’s going to be sick.

Normally, a day at the Potter estate flies by, but Remus is positive this day lasts at least three times as long. But Remus has been getting through it. He hopes that after today, he won’t see Miles McKinnon of ever again. Well, he mostly hopes Sirius won’t see Miles McKinnon ever again, he can admit that . To himself, that is.

Currently, he’s sitting down with James, having a butterbeer. Just when he thinks he might make it through these last hours without further additions to his misery, Marlene comes striding their way, Dorcas on her heels.

“Potter,” she says, stopping in front of them and placing her fists on her hips. “You’ve got something I need, and I want it now!”

“Sorry McKinnon,” James says with a smirk. “I’m a one woman man.”

“In your dreams, you wanker,” Marlene snaps. “You’ve got an Invisibility Cloak, no?”

James takes off his glasses and starts polishing them with his robes. “I may or may not possess such a thing.”

Marlene rolls her eyes. “After seven years of going to school with you, I think I can safely say that you do. Well, I need you to use it. Miles asked Black to take him on a tour around the lake.” She scrunches up her nose. “And you have to follow them so you can report back to me whether Black has kept his paws off of my little brother!”

“More the other way around,” Remus mutters, but Marlene hears and glares at him.

“My sweet and innocent little brother would never do such a thing! He simply... wants to see the surroundings and needs Black for directions.”

Dorcas throws her head back and cackles loudly. “The only directions your ‘sweet and innocent little brother’ is interested in, is the fastest way to get into Sirius Black’s pants!”

Marlene directs a deadly glare at her.

Just when Remus thinks at least Dorcas knows what she’s talking about, she continues. “C’mon Marls, Miles can make his own decisions. Let the boys have some fun!”

Let the boys have some fun? That’s not a good idea! That’s the opposite of a good idea! That’s a terrible idea!

“Well,” Remus says, managing to sound surprisingly calm. “We’re on Mr and Mrs Potter’s property, and Miles has only just been introduced to the gang. I mean, he and Sirius barely know each other. I’d say it’d be rather inappropriate if something happens between them here and now. You don’t want Marlene’s brother to give off the wrong impression.”

James sighs. “What if I lend you the Invisibility Cloak, and you can follow them yourself?”

“Oh, no!” Marlene holds up her hands and takes a step back. “There are certain things I don’t ever want to see my little brother do, or hear my little brother say. If I were to... accidentally stumble upon them, I’d either have to Obliviate myself, or be scarred for life.”

Remus snorts. Not so sure about her brother being so innocent after all, is she?

“Well, Padfoot’s my brother!” James argues.

“Remember when I put in a good word for you with Lily, and finally got her to agree to go on a date with you?” Marlene plays her final card, and effectively.

“Fine!” James puts down his butterbeer and gets up. “Remus, let’s go.”

“What? Me? Why?”

“Because you got me into this, Mr ‘it’d be inappropriate’. And besides, I’ll feel like some perverted Peeping Tom spying on them alone.”

“So better to have two Peeping Toms?” Remus argues, but he knows it’s an argument he’s not going to win.

That’s how Remus finds himself in the place he wants to be least of all, crouched down under the Invisibility Cloak with James, and, after casting a quick Silencio over their footsteps, following on Sirius and Miles on their ‘casual, totally not romantic, definitely not a date’ stroll.

“-and once I’ve gained enough experience, I’d like to come back to London and open my own restaurant!” Miles finishes.

“That’s amazing, Miles!” Sirius exclaims. “I’ll definitely frequent!”

“As long as you don’t expect any free food just because you’re so handsome,” Miles teases.

Sirius gasps in pretend-shock. “I would never use my looks for such purposes!”

“Right,” Miles chuckles. “You be careful, Sirius Black. A face like yours is a powerful weapon.”

“Wow,” James whispers admiringly. “He’s good!”

Remus grits his teeth. Of bloody course Miles McKinnon is all charming and smooth, chatting Sirius up.

“What about you?” Miles asks. “What are your plans for the future, now that you’re some kind of strong and powerful wizard?”

“I’m starting my Healer training soon!” Sirius beams, and Remus can’t help but smile at the pride in his voice.

“That’s... like a doctor, right?” Miles asks.

“Yeah,” Sirius replies. “But without the cutting people open.” He shudders. “Definitely no cutting people open.”

“Oi!” Miles protests, bumping his shoulder against Sirius. “Doctors cut people open to save lives, you know. They don’t do it for a laugh.”

“I’m sorry!” Sirius quickly says. “I didn’t mean to offend. It’s actually very impressive what Muggle doctors can do without magic, and the things they’ve come up with! I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Miles says, glancing at Sirius. “Don’t worry about it.”

Sirius smiles sheepishly. “Sorry. It’s just... I was raised in this really conservative pureblood Wizarding family. I’m always afraid I’ll say something Muggle-phobic without realising.”

“It’s okay, it wasn’t that bad, honestly.”

“Good,” Sirius says, relieved. “I’m just... trying to be better.”

Miles smiles softly at him. “Just the fact that you’re trying already makes you better.”

They walk in comfortable silence for a moment, until Miles speaks again. “That must’ve been hard though, growing up in a family like that. Marlene already mentioned you’re living here now. Is that why?”

Sirius nods. “I ran away from home the summer before. Best decision I’ve ever made.” There’s a tightness in his voice, though, and an emotion in his eyes that makes Remus want to run towards him and pull him into a hug.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Miles says sincerely. Then he gives Sirius a teasing smile. “Though I must say, it’s a good look on you, the whole ‘sexy rebel’-thing.”

Sirius barks a laugh, and the pained expression slides off his face. “Well, I’m glad my issues at least fit my anaesthetic!”

Remus doesn’t know whether he wants to bless Miles McKinnon for being able to turn Sirius’ mood around and make him smile, or whether he wants to curse Miles McKinnon for being able to turn Sirius’ mood around and make him smile.

“I bet you love provoking your family, don’t you?” Miles asks.

“That might just be my most favourite pastime,” Sirius replies sincerely.

Suddenly, Miles stops walking, so Sirius stops as well and turns back to face him.

Miles takes a step towards him. “I bet it would really provoke your family if you were to make out with a boy, a Muggle boy at that.”

Sirius swallows and his face slightly flushes. “That... That’ll definitely do the trick, yeah.”

Miles comes even closer, now almost standing chest-to-chest with Sirius, and he tilts his head up and leans in.

James still looks mighty impressed with Miles’ flirting tactics, while Remus wonders if the sound of his heart shattering might give them away.

Suddenly, Sirius steps back. “Wait, stop. I... I can’t.”

Miles looks disappointed, but not too shocked. “Why not?” He asks. Then he jabs his finger against Sirius’ chest, much like his sister did earlier. “And I swear to god, Sirius Black, if it’s because I’m a Muggle you can stick that wand of yours up your-”

“No, no, no!” Sirius quickly says, whilst letting out a breathless laugh. “It’s not you, really, it’s me.”

Miles gives Sirius a stern look, while placing his fists on his hips, making Remus wonder whether they’re sure Marlene and Miles aren’t twins. “If you’re gonna give me that lame excuse, at least elaborate what it is about ‘not me, but you’ that makes you reject me. I mean, I’m not proposing a marriage here!”

Sirius sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “There’s... someone else. I mean, there’s not really, I don’t have someone else, but I have feelings for someone else. So therefore this-” He gestures between himself and Miles. “Just doesn’t feel right.”

Remus exchanges a look with James, who looks just as stunned as he is by this information.

Miles, though, just folds his arms over his chest and looks at Sirius thoughtfully for a moment. “So, Lupin then?”

Remus freezes. What? Him? Oh no. He’s not sure he can bear to hear Sirius’ denial. ‘Lupin? Remus? No, of course not! What in Godric’s name gave you that idea? Why the hell would I fancy Remus?’

However, Sirius just sighs and looks down at his shoes. “I’m that obvious, huh?”

Remus stares dumbfounded. It’s... true? He feels an eruption of butterflies in his stomach. Well, he always feels some butterflies when he sees Sirius, but now it’s like all those butterflies had babies, and those babies had babies again, creating an immense flutter.

“Nah,” Miles says. “If I had known for sure, I wouldn’t have made a move. I only had a suspicion, but I decided to take a chance anyway. I’m not too surprised by this turn of events, though.”

“It’s really the only reason,” Sirius says. “Because you’re bloody great, you know that? You’re gonna make some guy really happy one day. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Miles groans. “ ‘Its not you, it’s me’, ‘anyone would be lucky to have you’. Shall we go before you start telling me we can still be friends?”

Sirius grins. “Normally I’d suggest we at least pretend to have had a good snog, just to see if Marlene’s face can get any more purple, but I don’t want to give Remus the wrong impression. Not that he’d care,” he adds with a mutter.

Miles stops walking again. “What? Are you seri- No, Marlene warned me not to say that. Really?”

Sirius just blinks at him.

Miles shakes his head. “I mean, you asked if you were being obvious, well, you were nothing compared to Lupin. Although, that could just be me. I couldn’t help but notice when he’s looking at me like he wants me to catch fire every time I come near you. Wait. You wizards can actually do that, can’t you?”

Remus huffs. He wouldn’t have actually set Miles on fire! At least he doesn’t think so.

Sirius frowns at Miles. “You must be mistaken. Remus is nothing but pure kindness! He always makes everyone feel welcome! You can’t help but like Remus!”

A warm feeling spreads through Remus’ chest.

Miles just looks at Sirius, shaking his head. “You’re actually in love, aren’t you?”

Sirius blushes and looks away.

“Well,” Miles says. “You should tell him how you feel. He clearly feels the same. Then you can both stop this pining.”

James, who just had to process the shock of one of his best friends fancying another one of his best friends, now has to process the shock of his best friends fancying each other. He’s staring at Remus, and consequently trips over a rock. He does manage to catch is balance, but he lets out a loud yelp.

Miles stares at the empty spot behind them on the path, surprised, but Sirius’ eyes narrow in suspicion. He lifts his wand, and the next moment a gush of wind blows the Invisibility Cloak off of Remus and James.

To his credit, Miles recovers pretty quickly from seeing two people appear seemingly out of nowhere, including the person they were just talking about. He blinks a couple of times, then says “I suppose this works as well.”

Remus and Sirius are just staring at each other.

“Uhm...” James says. “I was sent here by miss McKinnon to escort the younger McKinnon back to the estate.” Because apparently awkward situations make him talk like he’s an eighteen century nobleman. “Off we go, young lad.”

Miles doesn’t protest when James grabs his arm and starts dragging him away, but he does turn around to give Sirius a thumbs up.

“We were sent here by McKinnon,” Remus quickly says, when he and Sirius are alone. “She wanted to know if anything would happen between you and her brother.” Remus takes a deep breath. “And maybe I wanted to know if anything would happen between you and him myself as well,” he says softly.

“Were you jealous?” Sirius asks. It sounds curious, not angry, judgemental or smug, just curious.

Still, Remus can’t help but pout, and he looks away. “Of course I was jealous. Bloody Miles McKinnon, with his big blue eyes, batting those ridiculously long eyelashes at you, and being all cute, and witty, and charming.”

“You know, if you want Miles to snog you instead, you should hurry and you can probably still catch him,” Sirius says irritably.

“No!” Remus quickly says. “No. I just mean, I wish it was me. When he calls you handsome, when he brushes your hair away from your face, when he leans in to kiss you... I wish it was me doing those things.”

“Why don’t you?” Sirius whispers, staring at Remus intently.

“Because!” Remus says desperately. “Because I know how to be your friend, but if I even think about flirting with you, I turn into an awkward, rambling mess.”

The only thing that can possibly be going through Sirius’ mind right now is how the hell he let the sexy, confident, flirtatious boy walk away, to be stuck with the flustered heap of awkwardness that is Remus Lupin.

Remus stares down at his shoes. “I mean, I like you a lot, and also because I feel comfortable around you, I do, but when it comes to flirting, I suddenly get scared that you’ll laugh at me or something. I even think it’d be easier if you weren’t my friend, if we didn’t know each other so well. Then maybe I could-”

Remus stops talking when Sirius gently cups his cheek and tilts his head up. Slowly, ever so slowly, he leans in, giving Remus enough time to pull away had he wanted to. Which, for the record, he absolutely doesn’t. Sirius presses their lips together. And it’s...

Well, it’s not awkward at all.

It’s fireworks, and symphonies, and the sun breaking through the clouds. It’s a sense of belonging, and knowing all is right with the world, and a feeling of coming home.

Both boys are a little out of breath when they pull back, more because of the intense emotions than because the kiss had been that passionate.

“See?” Sirius smiles at Remus. “If I want you to stop rambling, I can always just... interrupt.”

“Rude,” Remus mutters, before pulling Sirius back into another kiss.

#my tumblr writing #crush confessions #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #james potter #marlene mckinnon #wolfstar fluff

255 notes · View notes