#they’re totally just friends what are you talking about (obviously lying)

[pixie-dvsst]

Sonny x Diesel drawing

Bc yes >:3

[itsmarsss]

cool. [Rodrick Heffley x fem!Reader] (Diary of a Wimpy Kid)

(from the vault)

You start working as a babysitter for the Heffleys, but a certain someone seems to be bugging his parents to go out more often. Why?

Words: 6,164

Warnings: like one slight sexual/porn innuendo

[. . .]

"What do you mean someone to watch me?” Greg yelled, exhasperated.

Rodrick laughed out loud at the whole situation. “Wait is little Greg here getting a babysitter?”

“Yes, and she starts tomorrow night," their mom replied, matter-of-factly.

“Mom, I’m in seventh grade! I don’t need a babysitter!”

“We’d believe it if the last time we left the two of you alone you hadn’t directly disobeyed the only thing we told you not to do and thrown a party while we were gone," their dad explained.

“Wait. Mom. So I don’t have to watch him? Like ever again?”

“No but you should be ashamed of the reason why-”

“Hell yeah!”

“Rodrick-” He was already up the stairs on the way to his room. She sighed. 

“Mom you can’t do this to me. Do you know how bad it'll be if the guys in my grade find out you got me a babysitter?”

“They’re not gonna find out, sweetie.” She patted his head.

“And it’s not negotiable.”

“What your dad said.”

"Dad!”

“I’m sorry, kid! But if it makes you feel better, since Rodrick will be here and we’re getting a babysitter because we can’t leave the two of you alone, she’s teeechnically his babysitter too, right?”

“It doesn’t make me feel better.”

“I tried," he shrugged.

“Where are you two even going tomorrow?”

“We’re having dinner! " Susan exclaimed, excited to talk about it. "Alone, finally, because-”

“Wait couldn't she technically be Manny’s babysitter then?”

“Thank you for caring so much about what I had to say, son.” She sighed once again. “She’s not Manny’s babysitter because Manny’s gonna stay with your grandma.”

Greg huffed and made a point to be extremely loud when stumping upstairs to his room, immediately getting cornered by Rodrick. 

“So… a babysitter, huh? And I thought your seventh grade couldn’t get any worse.”

“D´you think it’ll be that bad?”

“Dude they probably got you an old lady who smells like a museum whos gonna make you eat soup at like five PM and sleep at seven.”

Greg widened his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows, worried at the thought of what his brother was making him imagine. “You think?”

“Yup. And I’m not even talking about the total humiliation it's gonna be if someone your age finds out.”

“Crap.”

“Good luck with that.” Rodrick was obviously enjoying the mere thought of the torture that was going to follow.

. . .

“A babysitter?” Rowley asked, rather loudly. Greg quickly put his hand over his best friend's mouth. 

“Dude! Can you be quiet?”

“Hmmph!” Rowley tried to protest.

Greg released his hand from over his mouth. “Sorry.”

“Why do I need to be quiet?”

“Because I don’t want anybody to know!”

“Why?”

“Because it’s embarrassing, Rowley!”

Rowley just shrugged. “I wouldn’t be embarrassed. A babysitter sounds fun! Maybe she’ll read you bedtime stories! And play board games with you!”

Greg just looked at him incredulously. “Just don’t say anything about this to anyone., okay?"

Rowley suddenly started to look really nervous. “You know I can’t lie…”

“It’s not lying! It’s just not mentioning it! No one’s gonna ask about it.”

“Okay. Fine.” He didn't seem that sure about it, but Greg knew he'd try his best.

. . .

You took in a sharp breath before knocking on the front door. It took no time for it to be sprung open, and you were greeted by a smiling Mrs. Heffley. You retributed the smile. 

“Hi Mrs. Heffley!”

“Hey, sweetie! How are you?” She asked as she ushered you into the house, startling you when she closed the door behind you as you walked in. 

“I’m alright! How about you guys? Your dress looks so pretty!”

“Oh my God, thank you! You know it’s been ages since I’ve worn a pretty dress to go out, you can’t trust three kids with a pretty dress, they're always gonna ruin it.”

“Oh God that must be hell,” you laughed along with her. “Where are you guys headed tonight?”

“Looking forward to having dinner in peace,” she laughed again. “Manny!” she yelled suddenly, startling you yet again.

A little boy walked in in his diapers, holding his pants up with both hands. 

“Manny can you just please put on your pants?” Mr. Heffley followed the kid around, frustratedly asking him for what you assumed must have been at leat a fourth time to put his pants on, judging by the tone in his voice and the sigh that accompanied it.

“No!”

“Manny!” Ms. Heffley yelled yet again. The kid did what he was supposed to.

“Um I didn’t- is Manny gonna be staying with me tonight?”

“No! No,” she laughed. “Don’t worry, we’re taking him to my mother’s house.”

“Oh, right. Okay.” You tried to let out how relieved you were. Little kids were a whole other level of difficult, specially at Manny's age.

“Darling are you ready?” Susan asked her husband.

“Yeah! Yeah.”

“Greg!” she yelled again.

“What?” The boy yelled back from his room upstairs. 

“Y/n’s here! Come say hi!”

“Who’s y/n?”

“Your babysitter!”

He came downstairs. Very slowly. “Mom I already-” He stopped.  “You’re not an old lady!"

“Gregory! We don't say that to people! What is that about?"

“I’m sorry! I meant- Rodrick told me my babysitter was gonna be an old lady who smelled like a museum."

"Of course he did," Mr. Heffley said, under his breath.

You pretended to smell yourself. “I think I might smell more like an art gallery maybe,” you joked.

“I’m so sorry about this."

“It’s fine, Mrs. Heffley! Don’t worry about it. Now you two go have some fun, alright? Come on."

“Yeah! Okay. Right. There’s money on the table, you can order whatever you want for dinner the kids will eat whatever. Just grab the money before Rodrick comes downstairs or he's gonna pocket it. If you need anything you can call, okay? Really, anything.”

“Don’t worry about it! I promise I’ll call if anything happens! But I think we’re just gonna stay and eat some food and watch some movies, right Greg?”

“Uh, yeah. I guess.”

“Please be nice, Greg. Oh and if Rodrick bothers you tell him I said he’ll be grounded if I hear he's not letting you work alright?"

“Sure thing! Thank you. Now go!” You joked, pretending to send them off.

. . .

You and Greg had both sat down on the couch in the living room.

“So. You’re not an old lady.”

“Nope.”

“Are you in high school?”

“Yes I am.”

“What grade are you in?"

“I’m a senior!”

“Oh. Rodrick’s a senior too.”

“Cool! I don’t think I’ve seen him around though.”

“Lucky.”

“Why’s that?”

“He makes my life hell!”

“Well don’t you make his life hell at least a tiny little bit?”

“Maybe a little bit.”

“That’s just your job.”

“Trust me no girls like him.”

“Whatever, Heffley. So what do you wanna do?”

“Can we play video games?”

“Depends on what you have.”

“Apocalypse of The Damned?”

“I have never heard of that in my entire life.”

“You’re gonna like it I swear!”

“Alright. But you have to bring me the money your mom left on the table, I’m gonna order us some pizza.”

“Deal!” He ran out to the kitchen, getting back with the money in no time.

. . .

“Hey I was thinking. Can my friend sleep over?” Greg asked, obviously having been preparing himself to do so for the past few minutes, while furiously hitting buttons on his controller as you scrolled through your phone, having gotten tired of playing at that point. 

“Um. Is your friend gonna give me any trouble?”

“No! You can- you can trust us.”

“Is he annoying?”

He seemed to take his time to think of an answer. “A little. But he’s pretty cool.”

“Fine, I’ll ask your mom.”

You clicked on Mrs. Heffley’s contact name. 

hi mrs heffley

how's the date going? im sorry to interrupt

You didn't even have the time to finish writing the next text before she was calling you. You picked it up.

“Is everything okay?” Susan asked, clearly worried.

“Oh, yes. Everything’s fine, you don't have to worry! I’m so sorry to interrupt your date, Greg wanted a friend to stay over and I just wanted to see if that’s okay with you.”

“Is it Rowley?”

“Sorry?”

“The friend, is it Rowley?”

“Is it Rowley?” You asked Greg, leaning away from the phone, to which he just nodded his head yes. “Yeah, Rowley.”

“Okay, of course he can! And don’t worry, I’ll pay you extra for it.”

“Oh, that’s really nice, thank you. Now you should go back to your date, I'm so sorry to bother.”

“No worries! Are you sure everything’s fine?”

“Yes! We ordered pizza and we’re playing video games right now. Everything under control.”

“And Rodrick?”

“Uh, I haven’t really seen him honestly. He definitely hasn’t left his room though.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“Bye!” You hung up.

“So?”

“Yeah, call your friend. Ask him if he has any board games we can play!”

Greg did as you said, and, in about half an hour, a little boy with a yellow shirt with a dog on it stood at the door.

“Are you Greg’s babysitter?’

“Uh yeah, I am.”

“Cool!" He looked at Greg behind you. "You told me she was old!”

“Rowley!”

“What? You did!”

You laughed at the interaction and let them do their thing, only asking them to stay by the living room so you could keep an eye on them. You sat on the couch, scrolling through your phone again as you knew the pizza should be about to get there.

The doorbell rang in no time. You stood up to pay for it, grabbing the large-size pizza and tipping the delivery guy, who didn’t look very friendly at all. You brought it in. “Hey Greg can you go call your brother?”

“Yeah!”

He ran up the stairs, and you set the box down on the dining table, Rowley sitting down. Greg came back.

“He told me to bring it to him.”

“Why?"

"He just doesn't wanna come downstairs."

"You don't have to do it.”

“What? He’s gonna beat me up for it!”

“Not with me here. I got you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Chill out.”

. . .

“Hey you little asshole? I told you to bring my pizza!” A voice exclaimed from the second floor, and Greg muffled a quiet ‘shit’.

“Hey don’t say that!” You scolded Greg for swearing as a reflex.

“Hey? Are you not listening?” Rodrick was clearly close to the kitchen now. He walked through the door. “I said get me so-” he stopped dead on his tracks when he saw you.

“Who’s this?” He asked the boys.

“That’s Y/N,” Rowley said, through gulps.

"And I'm right here you know? You could just ask me who I am."

“Well who are you? And what are you doing… here?” He leaned over the wall, in a poor attempt to look cool. You had to fight yourself tas not to laugh uncontrollably at the sight.

“Well I seem to be your babysitter for the night.”

“What?”

“Did you also expect an old lady? You know, that's a really common and really hurtful babysitter stereotype, you really should think about the things you say now.”

“Wha- huh- yeah- I’ll just-” He let out a weird laugh, and walked up to the table, grabbing himself a slice of pizza and stuffing it into his mouth, seemingly to shut himself up.

“Well we’re gonna watch a movie after we’re done eating. You wanna join?”

“Oh he’s not gonna-” Greg started talking, but Rodrick quickly interrupted him, almost choking on his food as he did so.

“Yeah! Yeah! What are we uh- what are we watching?”

“Zathura.”

“What the fuck is Zathura?”

“Don’t swear in front of them!”

“Sorry.”

Greg looked at Rowley like Rodrick had just gone insane. Did he just apologize?

You laughed. “I’m kidding. You guys don’t mind, do you?”

They both slowly nodded their head no. 

“Cool. As long as you don’t repeat it in front of your parents, alright? Don’t wanna get me in trouble.”

“We’re not five!"

“Well you do look like it,” Rodrick commented, and Greg stuck his tongue out at him.

. . .

“This movie doesn’t make any sense,” Rodrick commented, pointing at the screen.

“It’s not supposed to! It’s a kids movie about a magical board game,” you pointed out.

“Let me guess, did Rowley pick this one?”

“For your information, I did. You got a problem?”

“No.”

Rowley had, in fact, picked this one.

Greg and Rowley shared a look again. This was getting bizzarre.

The movie was over in about half an hour, and it was time for you to put Greg to sleep.

“But it’s so early!” The boy complained, and you laughed.

“I know, but you don’t have to sleep now, you just gotta go to bed! I can’t, like, force you to sleep.”

He let out an annoyed groan before agreeing and pulling Rowley with him by the wrist. “Fine.”

“I’ll be upstairs in a few!” You yelled out, and went to the kitchen to wash the dishes from dinner. It wasn’t really something Mrs. Heffley had explicitly asked you to do, but you had those extra minutes and wanted to get on her good side. 

What you didn’t expect was to come in to find Rodrick still standing there, startling himself when you walked in.

“Uh hey!” His voice was high-pitched, clearly not expecting to see you there so soon.

“Hey.” You wordlessly walked to the sink, starting with the dishes. And then he offered to help you, which didn’t fit the image you had of him at all.

“What?”

“I said do you want some help? I can dry them.”

“Uh sure. Thanks.”

He just nodded, grabbing a cloth. “So did you put them to sleep yet?”

“Yeah they’re supposed to call me when they’re ready. Then I’m pretty much done.”

“Are you leaving like right after?” Was he… disappointed?

“Well not right after, your mom still has to pay me.”

“Right. She paying you extra for the dishes?”

“No,” you laughed, “just wanna score some points. This job’s good money, you know? But don’t tell her I said that.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

You nodded, a little awkwardly. “So what’s the deal with the van?”

“What?”

“The huge white van parked right outside? I assume it’s not your mom’s.”

“Yeah.”

“Couldn’t you have picked a better color?”

“What?”

“You know something other than the classic creepy white van?”

He actually laughed. “I don’t think a creep would have ‘löded diper’ written on the door.”

“Maybe you’re just trying not to look too suspicious.”

“Wouldn’t you like to find out?” Was he… flirting? Well, that was… an attempt.

“What, are you inviting me? You know, I was taught not to get into creepy white vans with strangers.”

“We’re not strangers!” He held his hand up for you to shake, which you did. “I’m Rodrick.”

“Y/N.”

“So. Ho'wd you end up babysitting Greg out of all people?”

“I mean, your dad posted something about it in the newspaper and my mom told me about it. Some extra money, you know?”

“And you’re sure it’s worth it? I mean he’s a big pain in the ass.”

“Aren’t all brothers?”

“I’m not.”

“Right. You’re like a dictator to him!”

“No I’m not!”

“He was scared you were gonna beat him up if he didn’t bring you pizza.”

“He’s dumb. I wasn’t gonna beat him up that badly.”

You laughed. “Well, we’re done. Thank you for the help. You can go now if you wanna.”

“You sound like a mom.”

“Oh my god! Stop trying to make me sound old! I'm some granny cinderella who turns into an old lady who smells like a museum when midnight strikes," you teased him, and he scrunched up his nose in embarrassment.

"Right. He told you about that.”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry. To be fair, I never had a babysitter, you know? I just thought they were all old and boring.”

“Do you think I’m old and boring?” You joked.

He snorted. “No, you’re pretty.” His eyes widened, realizing what he’d just said. Way to go. “Not in that- well not that you’re not pretty, you are, but you know what I mean. You’re uh- you’re pretty compared to what I- expected?"

It was stupid, but you could feel yourself blush a little. Why was it that you always fell for the most absolute idiots? “So I’m pretty… compared to an old woman.”

“I think you should let me start over.”

“But-”

“Y/N!” You heard Greg yell from upstairs, and you left the kitchen to go see him, going up the stairs and entering his room.

“Okay, we ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you brush your teeth?”

“Yes!”

“Both of you?”

“Yup.”

“Okay I’ll believe you. But your mom told me you’re on thin ice.”

Greg rolled his eyes and both boys got on the bed. 

“Okay, goodnight. If you don’t sleep right away don’t make too much noise.”

“Are you coming over tomorrow?”

“Why, did you actually like me?”

“Just a little.”

You smiled. “Well no. But I think I might next week.”

“Cool! ‘Night, Y/N!” 

“‘Night!”. You closed the door behind you, and walked downstairs to wait for Mrs. and Mr. Heffley to return so you could go home. 

You stopped on the hallway to send your mom a quick text saying you were fine and should be leaving in a few before making your way to the living room.

To your surprise, Rodrick hadn’t gotten back to his room. Instead, he was laying on the couch, his entire body draped over it as he scrolled through his phone. He sat right up when he saw you. “Hey Y/N.”

“Hey. You not have anything to do?”

“I’m offended. But no I don’t.”

You laugh, sitting down beside him. “Okay. Well your parents must be on their way, so. Don’t have much to do either.”

“You wanna watch something?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Well a real movie.”

“Zathura’s a real movie! I like it!”

“You actually do?”

“Yes!”

“Whatever. Well an adult movie I mean.”

“Uh, an adult movie?”

“No! Not that kind!” He was blushing furiously and you found it hilarious. 

“Yeah whatever. What do you have?”

You ended up settling on a Marvel movie, but you barely had the time to start it before the doorbell rang, and you had to go get the door.

“Hey Y/N! I’m sorry we took so long, we had to go get Manny.”

“That’s fine! Rodrick and I were just about to watch a movie!”

“Rodrick came downstairs?” Mr. Heffley sounded genuinely surprised.

“Well you can finish it if you want!”

“Oh, no, I really should get going. We can finish it another time.”

“Oh well. Okay.” She put Manny down and grabbed her wallet, handing you your money. “Here, with the extra from Rowley. Hope they didn’t cause too much trouble.”

“Oh they were so cool! I was surprised.”

“Oh that’s great to hear! If they haven’t traumatized you too much we’d love to have you sit them again.”

“Oh definitely! Just give me a call.”

“Thank you, Y/N. Are you driving home?”

“Oh, no, I’m actually walking. I thought we’d be done a little earlier.”

“Oh that’s not good, we can take you-”

“I can take her!” Rodrick yelled, almost falling off of the couch in his eagerness. He stood up, walking toward you. His dad looked like he was short-circuiting.

“Are you sure?” His mom asked.

“Yeah! Come on, let’s go.” He walked quickly past the front door and into the white van.

“Sure. Bye Mrs. Heffley!”

“Bye sweetie! Tell me if he bothers you too much!”

You walked towards the van, getting in on the passenger’s seat. He turned the engine on in silence. There was an awkward atmosphere surrounding you, and you didn’t know why.

You cleared your throat. “So uh. Thanks for driving me.”

“Yeah it’s chill. Where do I turn?”

“Oh let me just- give me your phone.”

“What?”

“So I can put the address on the GPS?”

“Oh. Sure.” He handed it to you after unlocking it, and you did as you said. 

“Turn left in 200 feet,” the disembodied voice said, and he did.

“You don’t have to uh- do these things for me. You know, drive me home, help me with the dishes. It’s nice, but I’m not gonna tell on you if you don’t.”

“I know. I uh. I want to.”

“You wanna do the dishes?”

“I wanna help you.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Dunno.”

“Fine.”

You got home pretty quickly, as you didn’t live a long way from the Heffley residence, and got out of the car. 

“Thank you for driving me! Goodnight.”

“Yeah!” Rodrick yelled back, and waited for you to get in to drive off. There was a smile on your lips you couldn’t shake off, and you felt stupid for it. Was the weird wannabe rock band kid really having an effect on you?

. . .

On wednesday, you got a call from Ms. Heffley again. And then on friday, and saturday, and sunday. This could not be normal, right? But it was money, so you obviously wouldn’t refuse it. So you pulled up to the Heffley residence for the fifth time on sunday, knocking on the door as usual.

Greg opened it this time, greeting you with a confused expression. “You’re here again?”

“Miss me, kid?”

“Are they going out again?”

“Apparently.”

“Mom, Y/N’s here!”

“Oh hey sweetie! Thank you for coming!”

“No problem! Where are you off to today?”

“Well we’re going bowling. Rodrick found us these pamphlets at the mall and wouldn’t stop bugging us about trying it out, so we decided to give it a go.”

“Oh he did?” That was strange.

“And you seem to have things so under control! I can’t believe we’ve been going out so much!”

“Well I’m happy to hear it. When will you be back?”

“I’d say eleven if that’s not too late for you?”

“Oh definitely not! As long as Rodrick can drive me.”

“Oh that won’t be a problem. You ready, darling?” She asked her husband, who walked by holding Manny in one arm and a huge bag in the other. 

“Yeah.”

"Everything there?” Susan asked him, referring to the bag. She turned back to you. “Manny’s staying over at my mom’s for the first time today. Isn’t that exciting?”

“Yeah!" You exclaimed, not really getting all the excitement about it. You supposed you would if you were his mom. Right now you were just happy you didn’t have to watch over him too. Little kids were always more difficult. 

“Okay bye everyone!”

Greg and Rodrick were right behind you the moment you closed the door.

“Can we make pasta?’ Greg asked, and damn, the little dude must have had some sugar because he looked like he’d downed like three energy drinks at once.

“Well yeah. I make a killer pasta. Is Rowley coming today?”

“Yeah!”

“Cool.”

“Do you want help with the food?” Rodrick finally spoke up, and Greg looked at him like he was speaking Greek.

“Sure.”

“Are you okay?’ Greg couldn’t contain himself from asking him.

“What do you mean, assface?”

“Did you just offer to help with the food?”

“Yeah?”

“Who are you?”

“Oh shut it, dickhead.” You didn’t miss the nervous glance he gave you, clearly signaling something about you to Greg. And then Greg seemed to figure something out, his eyes going wide.

“Oh! Is that why you-” Rodrick looked alarmed, putting his hand against Greg’s mouth to keep him from talking, but he managed to get himself free. “Is that why you’ve been trying to get mom and dad to go out all week?”

“Hah. Don’t know what he’s talking about, pssht.” Rodrick laughed nervously.

“Uh sure. Well I’m already hungry so I’m thinking early dinner and then we can make dessert?”

“Yes!” Greg yelled.

“Okay but if we’re making the food you gotta set the table. Deal?” 

Greg groaned in annoyance, but agreed. “Fine.” He went on his way, and you and Rodrick made your own way to the kitchen.

“So,” you started, as you grabbed the pasta from the cabinet. “You’ve been trying to get your parents to go out all week.”

He looked everywhere but at you. “Uh, I don’t know what the kid’s on about.”

“Well, shame. Cause I was gonna thank you.”

“For what?”

“Well the more times a week I work the more money I get right?”

“Oh right. Right. So yeah you can thank me.”

“So you were setting them up to go out. Why?”

He shrugged, trying to seem cool. “Wanted to be alone.”

“You’re not alone now. You could be in your room. Or like out with your friends or whatever.”

“I didn’t anticipate that you’d actually be cool.”

“Oh you think I’m cool?”

“Yeah.” 

The water started to boil, and you threw the pasta in the pot, stirring it with a fork.

“Cool. You’re kinda cool too. You know when you’re not trying to be impressive.”

“I’m not trying to impress you!”

“I didn’t say you were trying to impress me .”

“Well I was.”

“You were.”

“Did it work?”

“Why’d you want to impress me?”

“Cause you’re cool. I wanted you to think I’m cool too.”

“Huh. Maybe I do.”

“Cool.”

“Y/N I’M DONE! I THINK ROWLEY’S HERE !” Greg’s voice came from the dining room.

“I didn’t hear the doorbell, are you sure?” You yelled back, walking past Rodrick to get the front door. Maybe you were too lost in the conversion to hear it, because the boy was standing right there when you opened it.

“Hey Y/N!” He said with a smile, greeting you with a hug, which was very on-brand for the kid. 

“Hey Rowley. You alright?”

“Yeah! I brought water balloons!”

“You did?”

“Well they’re not full of water yet so they’re just balloons but yeah.”

“Cool! You should tell Greg!”

“Will you play with us?”

“Oh I don’t know, I don’t have clothes I can get wet-”

“Well that’s not a problem!” Rodrick said, and you frowned in confusion. “You can borrow mine!”

“Oh I don-”

“C’mon, Y/N, you really gonna disappoint the boy?”

“Shut up. Fine, but you’re playing too.”

“Deal.”

“Yes!” Rowley exclaimed, before taking off, presumably to go find Greg.

“Well you wanna go up to my room?” Rodrick asked, apparently having otten some confidence from out of the blue, sporting a cocky smirk.

You laughed. “You wish. Just bring me a t-shirt.”

“Yeah. Someone’s gonna be looking like the number one Loded Diper fan out there.”

“If you bring me a white shirt I will beat you up!” You yelled, and he was already on his way upstairs. You took the past out of the pot, mixing it with the sauce you’d made, which was the easiest one you could find.

Rodrick was back as soon as you set the pot down on the table, handing you a gray shirt that , of course, had ‘loded diper’ written on it in terrible handwriting. 

“Thanks.” You draped the shirt over your shoulder and all of you ate in silence, apparently all stupidly hungry for some reason.

You were done pretty quickly, but made sure to get Greg and Rowley to promise to help with the dishes this time, since there were more.

“Okay! We’re gonna get changed!”

“Yeah me too!” You yelled back, making your way to the bathroom, changing into Rodrick’s gray shirt.

It didn’t hang as loose as you thought it would, and you laughed at the thought of Rodrick wearing a tight shirt for no reason. You supposed it was an old one he decided to turn into loded diper merch. Loded diper. What a stupid fucking name. You guessed it was fit. 

Someone knocked on the bathroom door. Rodrick. “You done? These kids are little demons, they talk so much!”

You laughed, unlocking the door and grabbing your own shirt before opening it. 

“Hello?” He looked wide-eyed, like his brain was malfunctioning, staring profusely at his shirt. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat, awkwardly. “Fine. The shirt alright?”

“Yeah. A lot smaller than I expected. Does Rodrick Heffley wear crop tops?”

He shrugged, embarrassed. “Sometimes. That bad?”

“No.”

“Chicks dig the crop tops, you know.”

“Oh do they?”

“Don’t you?”

“I guess I’d have to see you in one to give an opinion.”

“Yeah that’s not happening any soon."

“Shame.”

“What?”

“I said let’s go.”

You barely had the time to walk into the front yard before Rodrick was hit on the face by a huge water balloon. You turned to see a terrified-looking Rowley at the other side. Rodrick gained his bearings again. 

“Oh you’re in, you little shit!” He seemed way too determined on winning this, but who were you to judge?

Him and Rowley occupied themselves with each other pretty much the whole time, as you did with Greg, until you got hit rather strongly in the back. You stopped what you were doing, which was aiming your next balloon at Greg, who was right in front of you, and turned around to see Rodrick laughing at you.

“Motherfucker-” you cursed yourself mentally for swearing in front of the kids, hoping they wouldn ‘t tell on you, and launched the balloon at him at full speed, it landing on his chest. 

“Hey!”

You played for about half an hour more until the sun set, and you decided it was best to get back inside. All three complained, and you laughed at the situation, because you supposed you did sort of sound like a mom when trying to convince them to get in, but they ended up listening.

“Okay what are we watching tonight?” You asked as you closed the front door behind you and dried your feet on the mat by the entrance.

“Oh can we watch a horror movie?” Greg asked.

“Nope, we know how that ends.”

“But we’ve changed!”

“It’s been less than a week!”

“People change!” Greg tried to plead, but you knew Mrs. Heffley wouldn’t like it if you caved in.

“No can do, Gregory. We can watch that Adam Sandler movie you wanted though.”

“With the little kid?”

“Yeah.”

“Fine.”

You were halfway through a second movie when the boys decided it was time for dessert, and you still had a little while before the Heffleys came back, so you decided you’d all bake cupcakes.

They didn’t turn out as great as you wished they would, but also weren’t half bad. They were a little flat and maybe a little toasted on the top, but were otherwise pretty edible. You covered them with some frosting and ate them as you finished the movie.

It turned out when you were done the Heffleys still hadn’t come back, so you decided to put the boys to sleep then. You came back to Ridrick looking at you at the other end of the hallway. 

“Hey,” you said, not expecting him to be there.

You stood there in silence for a few moments before he cleared his throat and started talking.

“Um do you wanna hang out? ‘Till they're back?” It was funny, with him. One moment he’d be full of confidence, flirting with you at the max, but, in a second, his entire demeanor would change and he’d look unsure, insecure to ask you anything.

You were starting to wonder if he wasn’t just being a stupid hormonal teenager and if he actually, maybe, had a little bit of a crush on you. But you wouldn’t entertain those thoughts, of course. First because you could be completely misinterpreting the situations, and second because you needed the job, and you hadn’t gotten enough of a read on his mom to know if she’d be cool with that.

Still, you did have nothing else to do but scroll through your phone as you waited. “Sure.”

“Oh! Cool. Uh, my room’s right there,” he pointed to a white door by his left, and you followed him in. It actually looked pretty cool. It was sort of exactly what you expected his room to look like, except maybe a little messier, if that was possible.

To each their own, I guess. It’s not like you were the cleanest person to ever walk the Earth. You sat down on his bed, and he opted to sit down on a beanbag just in front of you.

TIt's safe to say things were a little awkward. “Uh. So. Cool room.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

You studied the multiple posters he had glued to his walls. “Oh, The Cure. Cool.”

“Yeah. They’re not like super my style or anything. But they’re cool.”

“What would be your style?”

“I don’t know. Hard rock.”

“Huh. I don’t know. You just look like one of those guys who like rock but secretly listen to Taylor Swift and Justin Bieber or something when they’re alone.”

“What- what I would never- I don’t-” busted. 

You laughed at him as he tried to deny it. “I think it’s cool.”

He stopped. “You do?”

“Yeah. Taylor Swift’s cool.”

“Yeah uh. Girls dig that.”

“Do you really know what girls dig or do you just make random guesses?”

“I’m well-informed.”

“Oh are you? You have a girlfriend or something?” Subtle.

He scoffed. “Pfft. Yeah.”

“Uh- huh.”

He gave in. “No, I don’t.”

“Okay”

“You're a girl. What do you dig then?”

“What a romantic way to phrase that question. I guess I don’t know. Never stopped to think of it. What do you think we dig?”

“Uh. Bad boys?”

You let out a laugh. “Yeah I guess. But it depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether they’re nice to us.”

“So you want bad boys who are actually nice.”

“Yeah.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Uh. But I can be nice.”

“Who said you’re a bad boy to begin with?”

“Um rock band? Cool eyeliner?” He motioned to himself, mockingly.

“Well who do you wanna be nice for?”

“Uh. You? Obviously.”

Your smile faltered. There was the confidence making an appearance again.

“What?”

“Uh. You know. So I can uh- practice. For other... girls?”

“Right.”

“Or maybe not.”

“Okay I ‘m lost.”

“Do you wanna go out with me? ” He blurted out at rapid speed.

Okay, sudden much? “What?”

“Uh. We could… go to the movies or something? You seem to like movies.”

“Right. But as a… date?”

“Yeah.”

You thought about it. It was just a date, it’s not like his mom would get mad about a date, right?

“Sure.”

“What?”

“I said sure.”

His eyes widened, he didn’t seem to have been expecting a positive answer. “Oh! That’s cool! That's- cool.”

“Yeah. Cool.”

He began standing up. “Well, do you wanna-” In that very moment, before he could finish, the doorbell rang, and you made your way past him, running downstairs and getting the front door. 

“Y/N! How are we?”

You hoped the blush on your cheeks wasn’t as visible as it felt as you talked to her. “We’re great! Greg and Rowley are already in bed, Rodrick and I have been uh. Hanging out.”

“Oh that’s nice of him!” She turned to face her husband, who, in turn, grabbed your wrist. 

“What have you done to him? Are you some sort of witch?” He asked you.

You laughed awkwardly. “Oh it’s all him! He was showing me the posters in his room, we like the same bands!”

“Oh do you uh. Like rock too?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Well we’re taking too much of your time. Is Rodrick driving you home?”

Oh, right. Shit. He was.

“Yeah I uh, think so.”

With that, he walked into your view, holding up the van keys. He’d apparently put on shades, probably so his parents wouldn’t see he had eyeliner on.

“Why do you have sunglasses on?” Mr. Heffley asked him as he walked past them.

“It’s called fashion, dad!”

Mrs. Heffley handed you the money for the night, and you went on your way, getting into the van with Rodrick, who, by now, didn’t need the GPS to get to your place. Except he wasn’t driving to your place at all.

“What are you doing?”

“Wanted a slushie. That cool?”

“I guess.”

He stopped by a 7/11 and bought each of you a slushie and some chocolate bars, which you ate outside. The wind started to get harsher, and you crossed your arms around your chest for warmth. He caught on to that, taking his striped hoodie off and giving it to you. You looked up at him, confused.

“What?”

“You’re cold.”

“Yeah but you’ll be cold.”

“Rockstars don’t get cold.”

“You’re not a rockstar.”

“Not yet."

You raised an eyebrow at him, unamused.

"Just take it!” 

You did, and put it on. This one hung looser than the shirt you’d borrowed earlier. It did help. You tried your best to contain the smile that was insisting on forming on your lips. You knew it was dumb.

“Thanks,” you mumbled under your breath, and you could see him smirk, proud of himself. “You’re so cheesy. Wouldn’t take you for it.” 

“I’m not cheesy. I’m just not an asshole.”

“You kinda are.”

“Shut up!”

You ate in silence for a bit before you decided to say what was on your mind. “Hey about that date?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t… I don’t know if we should do it.”

He tried to seem chill about it, but he looked a little hurt. “Why?”

“Well it’s not that I don’t want to! I do. For… some reason,” you added, trying to lighten up the mood. “But do you think your mom would be cool with it? I mean I don’t wanna lose this job and I don’t know if she’d really like us being alone if we’re dating.”

His face lit up. “So you’re thinking about dating me?”

Oh, you’d messed up big time now, he’d never let this go. “No! That’s not what I meant!”

“I think it is.”

“Fuck off!”

“Oh we’re using big boy words now?” He grinned.

“Shut up.”

“Well. Don’t think that should be a problem. They don’t have to know.”

“What do you mean?”

“What, do you tell your parents everything? They don’t have to know we’re dating.”

“Yeah but we’re not dating.”

“Not yet.”

“Shut up!”

“They don’t have to know we’re going on a date, then. Plus, the days you work can be like little dates.”

“Yeah except there will be two children up our asses.”

“You can manage.”

“Fine, Heffley. But if I lose my job you’ll be owing me. Like literal money.”

“Deal.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah. Cool.”

[. . .]

A/N: sometimes ur 20 pages into a diary of a wimpy kid rodrick heffley oneshot and you ask urself wtf am i doing with my life. this is the product of that. i wrote this THREE YEARS AGO WOW so i edited some of it to post it here but nothing major cause i didn't want it to lose its energy lol. btw i was in fact like. actually in high school at the time lmao. luv yall!

[hqbaby]

one — rumor has it

tag, ur it! — sakusa ? iwaizumi ? osamu ? 

*ੈ✩‧ love is a losing game your roommate, your ex, or the guy you totally haven’t been seeing—the choice should be simple, right? right?

masterlist — next

word count. 1.3k content. profanity, sexual content (rough sex, unprotected vaginal penetration)

Iwaizumi doesn’t pry.

That’s why he’s such a great roommate. He hogs the bathroom and forgets to take his clothes out of the dryer, but he isn’t nosy. It’s not that he’s cold or distant, he’s just acutely aware of your boundaries and he has no intentions of crossing them.

But when he hears that you’ve been sneaking around with some mystery man… Now, how is he supposed to ignore a rumor like that?

He finds out through Oikawa of course who—despite his insistence that he isn’t—is the world’s biggest gossip.

“You’re lying!” Oikawa whines, on the verge of making another scene over lunch. “You know something. You’re just protecting her.”

Iwaizumi pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. “You know that you’re really fucking annoying, right?”

“You’re not denying it though,” Matsukawa chimes in oh so helpfully. “You covering for her, Iwa?”

“Yeah, is there something you’re not telling us?” Hanamaki teases, nudging Iwaizumi’s shoulder. “Maybe that you are the mystery man?”

Your roommate makes a face of both disbelief and confusion. “What would fucking give you that impression?"

“Dunno,” Hanamaki says, smirking. “You’re just so obviously flustered by this whole thing.”

“I’m not flustered. Oikawa’s just annoying.”

“Nah, you love me,” his best friend insists. “So? Do you think she’s been seeing someone?”

Iwaizumi considers shutting his friends down right then and there and telling them that you haven’t been seeing anyone and that they’re all delusional, but he can’t seem to bring himself to do it. The truth is, he does think that you’ve been hiding something. He just wasn’t sure what it was—but now that he thinks about it, Oikawa’s suspicions might actually be right.

He offers his friends a feeble shrug. “I don’t know, it’s not like she’s told me anything,” he says. “But she has been acting a little weird recently. Coming home late. Getting distracted… I don’t know. Maybe.”

Matsukawa sighs. “I bet it’s a business major,” he says. “They get all the pretty girls.”

“Or one of those engineering dudes,” Hanamaki suggests. “The art girls always seem to fall for those guys.”

As the two debate about what kind of guy you would go for, Oikawa taps Iwaizumi’s leg with his foot to get his attention.

“Hey,” he says quietly. “Are you okay?”

“What are you talking about?”

Oikawa rolls his eyes. “Don’t act dumb, you know what I’m talking about.”

Iwaizumi swallows. Of course he knows what he’s talking about.

“I don’t…” he hesitates, “It’s not like that. It doesn’t matter.”

“Sure,” Oikawa says, unconvinced. “Well, I’m here if you ever decide to stop being in denial.”

Iwaizumi nods. He hates when Oikawa is right. “Thanks.”

“Fuck! Right there!” you grip his back as you find yourself pushed up against the wall, his cock bullying its way into your aching cunt. “Don’t stop! Please, Kiyoomi.”

The tiny storage closet that you’ve somehow found yourselves in shakes as Sakusa pounds into you at an unrelenting pace. He holds you up by your thighs, groaning right into your ear as he continues his assault on your pussy. 

“You feel so fucking good.” He hisses as your walls flutter around his length. “So fucking tight.”

He hits a spot deep inside you that sends shivers down your spine. You drag your nails down the expanse of his skin and throw your head back at the sudden pleasure. “Fuck, I’m close.” You let out a moan. “I’m so fucking close.”

And that’s when you hear it. A chuckle. A fucking chuckle.

“So weak for me, aren’t you?” Sakusa says, his breath hot against your neck. “Who would’ve thought?”

His cock plunges into you, smashing into a spot that makes you writhe in his arms. “Omi!” you scream as your high crashes down on you. You bury your face in the crook of his neck and sink your teeth into his skin to hide your moans.

“Fuck!” he exclaims as your cunt squeezes his cock dry. He releases into you, the cum slipping out as he continues to thrust into you through his high.

He stills and slumps against you, slowly lowering the two of you to the floor.

You pull back and hold his head in your hands. His forehead is damp and his curls are a mess and he has that fucked out look on his face that you’ve gotten more than used to. You run your fingers through his hair and start laughing.

“You’re so fucked, man,” you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Couldn’t even wait for tonight?”

He shakes his head, smiling as you continue to pepper his face with kisses. “You’re a menace.”

You shrug, grinning at him. “Can’t help it,” you tell him as you run your thumb over his swollen lips. “You look pretty like this.”

Sakusa leans forward and catches your lips in a kiss, slow and sweet. The two of you move against one another like it's second nature. It might as well be, what with how long you’ve been at this.

“We have class,” he mumbles as you press your lips on his. “Wouldn’t wanna be late.”

With one last kiss, you pull back and sigh. You press your forehead against his and stare into his eyes, full of something you can’t quite put a name to yet.  “No, we wouldn’t want that.”

“Hey,” Iwaizumi greets as you take your seat beside him. “We were looking for you at lunch.”

Your eyes widen and you start your profuse apologies. You’d lost track of time when Sakusa decided to drag you away between classes. You completely forgot that you’d made plans to see your friends.

Iwaizumi just laughs. “It’s fine,” he says. “Oikawa’s not gonna let it go though.”

“I fucking know.” You groan into your hands. Then, you lift your head and take Iwaizumi’s hands in yours. “Be honest though, are you mad?”

His eyes flicker to where your hands meet. He looks back at you and shakes his head. “It’s really fine,” he tells you.

You let out an exhale of relief and pull your hands away. “You’d tell me if I fucked up, right?” you say. “I know I’ve been a shitty friend recently.”

He hums. “I mean, I don’t mind,” he tells you. And, well, he tries, he really tries to be as casual and respectful as he usually is about giving you privacy… but he just can’t take it this time, so he asks, “What were you up to though?”

You’re taken aback by the question. It isn’t anything big, but you know that your roommate’s never asked for information that you didn’t offer willingly. It’s just new.

“Oh, right, I was—” Your mind’s going crazy as it scrambles to come up with an excuse. You’ve never had to make up excuses with Iwaizumi. “—studying for a test.”

For a moment, you’re worried he won’t believe you. Because why would he? You’ve been living with him for two years now, he has your routine down pat. You study for tests in the afternoon and at night if you need to. You’ve never studied over your lunch break. You aren’t a slave to your schoolwork.

But he just nods. “I get it,” he says. “Third year’s rough, isn’t it?”

You let out an awkward laugh. “Oh, yeah, it really is.”

The door opens and you look over to see if the professor’s come early. 

It’s Sakusa.

He walks by you, quickly looking away as soon as he catches your eyes on him.

“What was that all about?” Iwaizumi wonders, catching the exchange between the two of you. 

You’re jolted out of your thoughts. “Sorry, what?”

“What’s his deal?”

You poke at your pencil. “Dunno,” you say. “Dude has some issues.”

You look over your shoulder to find Sakusa staring at you, a smirk on his face. You stick your tongue out at him and turn to look straight ahead of you, trying your best to school the grin that wants to burst across your face. 

Sakusa definitely has some issues. Chief among them being you.

note. let the drama commence ;)

[the-100-days-of-junkan]

Day 89

SURPRISE! Days 79 and 85 were secretly the same AU all along! And by that I mean- wait before I get into that. Time for a headsup.

So tomorrow is Day 90. And as you know I try to do something special for those, which of course can lead to my little ramble sessions to go on for much longer than normal. And while I won’t guarantee it, this is more than likely going to be the longest one of the whole project, more than likely even longer than Day 100 which will be the post marking the end of the project.

Just to give you an idea of what kind of scale we’re talking about here, Day 90 took me a total of 3 Months, starting its creation on May 8th, and finishing on August 1st.

Alright! Now that you’re tense and speculating what in the merciful name of all that’s good is gonna happen tomorrow, let’s start talking about TODAY's art!~

Anyway, so when I made Day 85 I was trying to really think of what I could even do with an AU where the entire basis is “Oh, they’re kids.” And that reminded me! I had the same issue with the Adult AU, even if that had a bit more ground to stand on with them being adoptive parents to the Warriors of Hope.

Then it hit me! Why not combine the two of them? And thus was born the Childhood Friends AU! Though you could also just call this The No Talent AU because hey, you remember during Danganronpa WLWeek when I drew Junkan for the Talentless prompt? That’s right! It was secretly a tease for this art! Now if only I drew something for them during their college days I could have fully planted the seeds for this whole pic in your collective minds. 

Anyway, core idea of this AU is the timeline is slightly shifted so Junko and Mikan (along with the whole of the DR Cast) are born slightly earlier, while the Warriors of Hope are born at the usual point they would have in the timeline, solely because this allows our two favorite lovebirds to adopt them. Hope’s Peak doesn’t exist, nor do the ultimate talents of course (Though obviously for some characters like Mikan they’re still partial to those talents. It’s just that they don’t reach the absurd levels of skill that they do in main canon). And finally, Junko and Mikan were positioned in such a way that the two were childhood friends. I feel like I worded that in a way far too complicated and excessive for something that was pretty damn obvious, but hey I like to ramble.

Anyway, I can’t remember but I think I said that with the Fantasy AU it was the only other AU aside from Vampire that I would want to make a proper Fanfic for. If I did say that, I was either wrong or lying, because eventually I wouldn’t mind telling some kind of story of this version of the characters. More than likely just from their child and highschool years, but I’m sure eventually I’d get more ideas for them in college and as adults. 

The obvious dynamic here is that Junko since becoming friends with Mikan has been protecting her from bullies and not realizing that Mikan is very desperately pining for her (Don’t worry! They get together before the end of Highschool!). Also Mukuro is there! She’s got a stick.

I’m envisioning that up till they were entering middle school Junko would call her Bandaid Girl, because as kids Mikan was the kid who always had Bandaids (both in terms of wearing them and just carrying some around on her person all the time).

And look! Mukuro is in fact there, and not just that but a shit ton of other characters! I think I was really starting to crack and lose self control at this point in the project. So I decided to also make this a mini story of Mukuro getting together with Sayaka and Ibuki! Who both generally go down the same path they normally would, though eventually Sayaka becomes an Idol Manager after a short career as a proper idol, and Ibuki of course is a semi-popular musician. Mukuro has acted as a bodyguard for both of them before and will continue to do so when asked. 

And of course, by the time they’re adults Junko and Mikan decide to adopt the Warriors of Hope, very legally, and they definitely didn’t hide any bodies (I don’t even know how much I’m joking about that here). Fun fact! I almost forgot to draw Masaru! Don’t ask me how that happened, I have no idea. I will admit when it comes to the Warriors of Hope and Junkan most of my interest is mostly in their dynamics with Kotoko and Monaca. Not to write off the other three, Jataro especially, but I just think that’s what hooks me more immediately. 

I really tried to load today’s piece with as much as I could, because even if I didn’t know how long it’d take, I knew for a fact that finishing Day 90 would take a very, very long time.

As always, Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the Tags are appreciated!~ They always make my day!~

[pumpkinbxtch]

hey, ik requests are closed but if you could do this one, i'll be very grateful. just remember, if you don't want to, you don't have to.

i was thinking if post-trial apollo, meets the reader, after the trial (can the reader be a child of Hades? like a child of Hades would be so iconic), love at first sight (fuck, why is this so cliche 😭😭) and tries to spend more time with the reader. the reader is new to the entire camp thing, and is getting more used to it, and grows closer to Apollo. but he's like scared to admit he's in love bc he thinks, that just like all his past lovers, the reader would run away, or kill herself, or fall into deep trouble, but after some really had event in which he almost loses y/n, he goes all haywire, confessing everything and it becomes a cute, fluffy scene together

AGAIN ik you aren't taking in requests, so if you don't want to do it, it's totally fine. love so many of your fics btw ♥️♥️

i love you, isn't that the worst thing you've ever heard?

— apollo/lester x child of hades!reader

warnings: none a/n: Hello beautiful person. You're seeing this, now you know that I take your request and I want to say why and it's because you asked me so nice that I couldn't resist. I have corazón de pollo which is something like being very sensitive or being warm-hearted. Anyway, let me know if you liked it. I hope it was like that and thank you for reading me, for your support. ❤️ Kisses from Pluto! ha ha

Your legs settled back over Apollo’s knees, and he kept them in place with his hands, letting out a snort.

— You’re pretty comfortable with a god, aren’t you? — His pretentious tone just made you smile and shrug.

— You didn’t move my feet, did you? — you replied in the same tone, and he leaned against the cabin wall. It was true, and if it were up to him, he never would.

— Whatever…— he muttered, watching you lie back down, putting your attention back on a comic book Will Solace had lent you, saying it was based on one of his favorite movies, which made you interested in reading it. You thought you and Will weren’t that different, and you liked him but not in ‘that’ way, just as a friend. After all, Will was becoming part of the family with your brother Nico because they seemed to have something slowly brewing.

— How many times have you said I love you?— you asked out of the blue, still not taking your eyes off the comic. Apollo almost choked on his own saliva.

— What’s that about? — he said evasively. He didn’t want to talk about it because if he remembered correctly, all those times had ended badly. He tried to catch your eyes but found the glossy cover of the comic in the way.

You shrugged and turned the page, continuing with the same topic.

— I heard Nico say that to Will once when they thought I was out of our cabin, but I was just in the bathroom.

— Hmmm. And?

— Nothing, just that Nico doesn’t say it often. I’ve only heard him say it to his sister Bianca, his real sister. Also to Hazel, to me, and to Will.

Now Apollo understood but played dumb.

— I don’t know.

You tapped his thigh with your foot.

— Of course you do.

And obviously, he did, but stayed silent, hoping the comic would distract you enough.

— I think they’re falling in love — you stated, laughing at something you read. Apollo could never understand how demigods managed with ADHD; now, it just seemed like a curse.

— Well, I suppose.

His half-hearted responses annoyed you, and you put the comic down with a frown, and he apologized with his eyes.

— Have you fallen in love recently?

That question threw him off. Apollo gently moved your legs aside to sit on the edge of the bed with his heart racing and a pout on his face.

— Where are you going? — you asked, concerned, setting the comic aside and sitting next to him. Apollo smiled sheepishly. He didn’t like lying to you, but whenever you started guiding the conversation that way, he had to find a way to escape.

— I need to do something in olympus, they just told me.

You made a face and nodded. You never got involved in that; after all, he was a god.

In the end, Apollo sat moodily on his throne, watching time pass at Camp Half-Blood. Since his return as the sun god, things had changed in his heart, so he found himself more in that place despite what the gods said, which reminded him of when he met you.

You had recently arrived and caught attention for reaching an age where any demigod would have died, but shortly after, if not the same day, everyone knew you weren’t just any demigod. You were a child of Hades. Of course, the most delighted with this was Nico, who welcomed you and made sure you were never alone.

Things were fresh, so Apollo ended up in your close circle until it became very close. If Apollo was at Camp Half-Blood, you were with him, and it didn’t take long for him to fall in love with you, though you hadn’t realized it yet.

You felt safe growing up by his side; no one would mess with you since you were a child of the big three and a close friend of a god. Some fools judged you for your company, but they were afraid to approach when you were – according to Apollo – an adorable person.

The god watched through the fire as you thrived in camp after his unexpected departure, and to him, you were doing too well, though some things were too good for his liking, and he couldn’t deny it; you were charming in more than one way, which obviously attracted campers like Harley, that son of Hephaestus who sometimes gave you cute things like that pomegranate made of metal leaves. A gift that seemed very familiar when he saw Leo flirting with Calypso.

Leo flirting with Calypso.

Leo flirting.

The god stood up and admired the scene closely. Harley had blushed cheeks while giving you the gift, and you smiled gratefully. No way, he knew the sons of Hephaestus were bold, but he never imagined someone would be so obvious with you due to your lack of understanding of indirect hints. They approached but never that close, and he should have guessed, but also, he wasn’t one to get angry.

You received the gift and admired it closely, but only thanked him briefly, which seemed enough proof of your affection to the son of Hephaestus, something Apollo obviously loathed as well as keeping him awake the rest of the night.

He didn't know why (well he did) but the god ended sitting at the dining pavilion, his nails digging into the table.

— Everything okay? — Your voice snapped him out of his trance, and he smiled. You always seemed to have a radar for when he was near.

— Will fell in love with Nico, and Nico with him. Do you think they both realized it or just one?— His question took you by surprise, and more than making you think twice, it excited you that he finally answered that kind of question since he always seemed to have a repulsion to them.

You sat beside him, and Apollo gave you a sweet look, waiting for your answer.

— Maybe Nico and Will know, but Will could be waiting for Nico to give clear signals about it.

— Maybe Nico is scared.

— Does he think Will isn’t?

You both fell silent. It was clear; it was in the air, you weren’t really talking about your brother and Will.

— What’s the worst thing he could say to Will? — you asked, your hand reaching for Apollo’s to intertwine your fingers. The blonde swallowed and suddenly felt breathless.

— I don’t know, but I can think of something.

Apollo made a face and turned a little more towards you, his cheeks red and his eyes shiny. He was afraid of hurting you, of things not working out as they did with his previous lovers; he could never afford to make you suffer when he already knew the degree of consequence it would have in his life, but beyond his good or bad karma, he cared about you. He loved you enough never to try to have you.

Your patience was reaching its limit, and although the son of Hephaestus was cute, sweet, a good match… your heart belonged to someone since the first moment you saw him.

—Apollo… —your voice called him with a bit of seriousness, a peculiar tone that made the god realize his time for redundancies was over.

— I love you, isn’t that the worst I could say?

Your eyes widened with hope, and you moved a little closer to him, bumping knees.

— From Nico to Will? — you asked, not wanting to humiliate yourself.

Apollo’s blue eyes examined you suspiciously. The responsibility would fall on him; he was never the best at hiding his feelings, but if your happiness depended on it, the first moment he saw your life in danger, he wouldn’t hesitate to disappear from it. For now, a confession was something very innocent.

The sun god turned to you with a bit more evident confidence and didn’t let go of your hand; instead, he kissed it.

— No. From me to you…

[julietsbb]

so pondphuwin legal drama tv show where phuwin is a famous boxer with anger issues and pond is a defence lawyer

brought to you by a) pw being cute and doing silly boxing moves as they were shooting stuff for promoting fancon b) the pictures on pond in specs today and c) ppw in suits (and d) i want more unhinged angry phuwin content HE WOULD DO IT SO WELL and e) I want pond in more three piece suits and glasses and I’m desperate for him to have another role where he gets to sound intelligent/smart)

so Phuwin absolutely loses his shit at some asshole and beats him bloody I don’t care if it was justified or not or betty or righteous doesn’t matter but the dude hits him with an assault charge

And Phuwin can’t go to jail because then he can’t box and that would make him lose his mind because it’s the only way he knows to process his anger so IN COMES DEFENCE LAWYER POND who doesn’t even fucking want this case, he spends his time defending like, actually down on their luck people who deserves an extra chance BUT he’s also working in a corporate word that needs to make money and his boss told him to take the case because he’s friends with phuwin’s agent and pond is the bestest or some such and he owes his boss a favour

Anyways they obviously hate each other because phuwin’s anger at the entire situation keeps going off and makes pond’s job harder etc etc (also both of them are very attractive and they also hate that about each other)

And so it’s the night before the first hearing (they’ve been trying to dig up stuff to discredit the victim somehow) and pond snaps and is like “Jesus Christ if it can stop you from going off in court tomorrow just punch ME and get it out of your system I would prefer that actually” (it’s 2am and he has no filter left)

And pw’s character is like “????? what”

And pond is like “never mind I’m just tired” and pw’s like “no wait punching you sounds good actually could we do that because I’ve been wanting to punch your stupid fucking face with your stupid fucking glasses—“ and pond’s like “well if you’re punching me it’s sure as fuck not on my face because a) I need my glasses and b) it wouldn’t actually help your case if I showed up looking like my client with the assault charge just assaulted me, so it would defeat the purpose of it all” and then pw’s like well where the fuck can I hit you then and pond gives it serious consideration and it becomes, slowly, apparent, that he Knows Things™️ about being hit, saying stuff like “the meat of my thighs if I sit down or my buttocks if I’m lying down somewhere but that would be more awkward. possibly my chest too but let’s avoid my diaphragm and gut area” and like, he gets up and takes off his jacket???? and tie!??? and phuwin’s like “????????” but it also kind of makes him want to hit him more and pond tells him to control his punches so they don’t accidentally hit somewhere they shouldn’t and phuwin laughs in his face because don’t he know he’s talking to a professional boxer actually??

And so they find some way Phu gets to punch him in a way that’s Safe Sane and Consensual and phuwin thinks it’s weird as shit wtf kinda lawyer did they GIVE him but he…… can’t deny he feels better afterwards. And pond gets some MEAN bruises but they’re all covered up by clothes so it’s fine actually as he’d hoped his brain is much clearer after (actually after the first two punches pond has to tell him that he can hit harder than that it’s okay. phuwin hits harder)

Anyways court the next day isn’t a total disaster they haven’t lost YET bought themselves some more time the team celebrates with a beer that evening and they’re the only two left and phuwin’s tongue is loose enough to ask about it and pond’s is loose enough to answer, tell him about how people can enjoy pain in different ways, how it’s something he practises on occasion but has done so for a good long while and Phuwin is like o______o and like… “so it’s not just… punches?” And pond laughs in his face and tells him about how there’s a million different ways and types and personally he would usually prefer a heavy flogger to his back on a normal day but he’s tried this and that.

And phuwin’s char is FASCINATED and his fingers are starting to itch like they usually do for a boxing glove but less familiar and well worn, more new and existing. Exhilarating.

Anyways so Phuwin gets a new way to channel his anger and becomes the calmer for it in the rest of his life and pond guides him through it all very patiently whilst a) having a Great Time but also b) having a very Bad Time because he’s entering into a non-work intimate-but-not-sexual (yet) relationship with Important But Obnoxious Work Client (who really is less obnoxious once his shoulders unclench)

Also phuwin’s character has a cat that’s as aggressive as he is.

(Ps: maybe it turns out the “victim” was actually paid by one of pw’s competitors to deliberately piss him off to sabotage him or something I don’t know but they discover SOMETHING shady and thus there is plot they can bond over)

(Pps: they fall in love your honour)

[booksrbetterthanpeople]

Headcanon Scene Request: What actually happened in "Volpina" is that the rest of the Akuma Class humored Lila's lies with a fake smile and a "oh that's nice". They didn't believe her for a second and just didn't care enough to call her out on lies that were so obviously bs. Marinette assumed they were on her side despite Alya repeatedly stating that they "just don't care".

This feels like a reverse au of Volpina now that I’m reading it again

Rose: Can you believe Lila said she knows Prince Ali? And that she flew in his private jet with him?

Chloé: Ugh. If Jagged Stone’s writing a song about anyone, it’s me.

Nino: Apparently, Lila knows all of the Hollywood directors. Even promised she'd mention me to Steven Basielberg himself.

Marinette: *Rushes to Alya's side* Lila?

Alya: Yeah, she just started at our school. *points to Lila, who's on the second floor of the school with Adrien* Yeah, I threw her a bone, let her give me an exclusive interview for the Ladyblog, 'cause apparently, Ladybug saved her life once. Good for her.

Marinette: Who is this girl and what is she doing next to the love of my life?!

Alya: Girl. Chill. Adrien literally just met Lila. He’s probably being nice and showing her around.

Marinette: This is super bad, what if Adrien totally falls for her?! I've never flown in a private jet; nobody's ever written a song about me; and I don't know a single person in Hollywood! Adrien will forget I even exist!

Alya: … Mari, I think we need to have a talk.

*Lila guides Adrien along by the hand*

Marinette: *gasping* Where are they going? Alya, we've got to stop them!

Alya: Okay, you need to chill out. Look, Lila REALLY wants her video posted, I gotta make it seem like satire, like a joke video. *Drags Marinette to the classroom with her*

Marinette: What's going on? I mean has this Lila girl hypnotized everyone or something?

Alya: What the- Okay, we’re seriously having a long talk later.

Kim: About what?

Marinette: Lila is lying to you!

Kim: Oh, you caught on, too? Yeah, she said she’d introduce me to some Olympic swimmers. They’re dead, so she obviously doesn’t do her research.

Alya: Kim, get this. Our dear Marinette thinks we actually believe Lila.

Kim: What?!

Myléne: Did I hear that right?

Ivan: Please, think better of us.

Max: Marinette, we all know Lila’s lying. We just don’t care.

Marinette: B-but she’s a liar! She needs to be stopped!

Nathaniel: Why? She’s not hurting anyone; she’s just desperate for new friends.

Alix: *Laughs* Nath!

Nathaniel: I stand by my words.

Marinette: She’s probably laughing behind your backs right now and lying to Adrien so he’ll be impressed by her-

Alix: Ooh! That’s what this is about. You’re jealous.

Marinette: Excuse me?!

Ivan: First. Don’t yell, please. Second, her talking to Adrien seems to get under your skin more than her lying to us.

Juleka: Damn, Ivan.

Ivan: What? I’m right.

[elvenisms]

friday —; s.h.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader [3.5k]

summary: Robin orchestrates the best (and worst) Valentine's Day of your life.

cw: angst, fluff, cursing, no use of y/n, steve is an idiot (per usual), reader cries a lot (relatable), happy ending.

author's note: i got carried away with this, ngl. proof that i cannot write anything fluffy without angst. enjoy!

masterlist

It was Thursday.

Thursdays were good days. You didn’t work, giving you some well-needed rest from wearing that stupid vest, rewinding tapes, and dealing with late returns. You could throw on a movie you’d been meaning to watch for weeks, invite some friends over, and veg out. You could go see a show at The Hideout, if someone interesting was playing. Sometimes, Thursday was laundry day. But today wasn’t any Thursday.

Today was Thursday, February 13th, 1986. The day before Valentine’s Day.

“Vickie and I are going to do something, we just don’t know what.” Robin pushed her lips together, toying with a loose piece of thread on your couch. “I mean, obviously we’ll have a little date during the day, but we thought a group thing would be fun, ya’ know?”

Eddie had come over to watch Day of the Dead with you that day, and when Robin got off work, she called to see what you were up to. “Hanging out with Eds, pretending Valentine’s Day doesn’t exist.” You’d quipped, which is precisely how she ended up in your house, talking about Valentine’s Day.

“As much as I’d love to third-wheel,” Eddie stretched. “I’m going to see a show. Some new guys, but I heard they’re good.”

“Yeah, I’m…” You wracked your brain for something you had to do, trying to get out of it, just as Eddie had. “I’m, uh, working. And then… Oh, I told Max I’d help her study? Some test she has. Science, I think.”

Eddie and Robin both eyed you judgmentally. It was entirely unconvincing, and also a lie. The Max part, anyway.

“Oh, give me a break,” You grunted, their faces saying enough. “I already told you, Rob, tomorrow is just Friday as far as I’m concerned.”

“But you don’t want it to just be Friday,” She remarked. “You want it to be Valentine’s Day, but you’re lonely.”

A huff of air came through Eddie’s nose, trying not to laugh at her well-meaning bluntness. You gave him a sour look, and he quickly dropped it.

“Thank you for reminding me,” You muttered, leaning forward to pick up some empty beer bottles from the table, carrying them to the trash can in the kitchen.

You weren’t actually mad, not at Robin. You were frustrated with the fact that you cared about some stupid holiday, that you couldn’t just be like Eddie, who genuinely didn’t give a shit. Unwilling to admit it to yourself, you were also mad that every guy in Hawkins you’d gone out with was a total disaster; Matthew Campbell probably couldn’t tie a shoelace if you asked him to, and you told him that, so you didn’t suspect he’d be knocking on your door tomorrow.

You waltzed back into the living room to your unsuspecting victims, now on a tirade you’d created in your own head. “It’s not my fault that there is no one in this town for me, okay? I’ve officially given up. I’m tired of putting on makeup, going to Enzo’s, and making awful small talk, for which the reward is a lackluster trip to second base in the back of a ca—”

Robin gasped as if she’d seen a ghost. Your rant halted, staring at her, and she looked back with wide eyes, jaw agape. “How have I never put this together?”

She looked like she’d just had a stroke of genius, discovered a new element, or something. You looked at Eddie, then back to her. “Put what together? That I’m hopeless?”

“No, no no,” She leapt up off of the couch, starting to pace. “You sound just like—oh my God, this is incredible. I mean, this is actually perfect—”

“Robin!” You threw your arms out, exasperated, letting them smack against your sides.

“Steve!” She exclaimed, gripping your shoulders. “Steve, who is also lonely and has no plans for tomorrow!”

Your insides twisted. Steve.

You would’ve been lying to yourself if you said you’d never thought about him that way before. I mean, you had eyes, but your close friendship had never allowed it to last more than a minute. More than anything, the two of you poked fun at each other, constantly trying to see who could get the last word. But you were still close, close enough that you knew he’d come running if you ever really needed him, and that was… nice.

Everything about him was nice, really.

You blinked at Robin, your gears shifting at impossible speeds. She was still holding your shoulders, expectant.

“I think she’s on board.” Eddie piped up with a smirk, and you instantly held a finger out to him, still looking at the girl in front of you. “I didn’t say that.”

“You’re saying it with your eyes.” Robin was containing a giddy squeal. You could almost feel her vibrating. 

“No, no, I’m not.” You finally broke free from her grasp. Now you were pacing. “If Steve was interested in me, he would’ve said something a long time ago.”

Eddie’s brow furrowed. “Are we talking about the same guy?”

“Yeah, dingus, with a capital ‘D’,” Robin gestured with her hands. “I saw a bird land on his head once and he asked me what I was looking at. You think he’d notice he had a shot with you?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Okay, that’s… yeah, you’re right. But I’m not just gonna call him up and ask him to be my Valentine. I’d rather puke.”

“So don’t!” Robin spun around, another lightbulb behind her eyes. “I have an idea.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

This was a terrible idea.

You were staring into your mirror, smoothing out the wrinkles on your clothes. You’d gone for not-trying-too-hard cute; a black turtleneck with a calf-length, patterned skirt, and a thick belt around your waist. You’d done your hair and your makeup, satisfied with them, but this time felt… different. You weren’t going to Enzo’s with some tip-stiffing lowlife. You were seeing Steve.

Robin had suggested a gathering at your place. She, Vickie, Nancy, and Jonathan were sitting in your living room, sipping drinks, chatting mindlessly. When she’d invited Steve, she’d said that the four of them were going to your house—assuming he’d pick up the hint, and jump at the chance to be your date. 

And he did.

The real reason you’d never allowed Steve to infiltrate your mind was because, well, that’s exactly what he’d do. You could handle losing Matthew Campbell, or Ben Taylor, or any of these meaningless Hawkins guys you never realistically saw yourself with in the first place; but Steve was close. Close to your friends, close to your heart, inching ever nearer by the minute. 

It was terrifying. But then again, he agreed to come—–and that made your stomach flutter.

Deciding you’d spent enough time making sure every last hair was in order, you took a deep breath, venturing back out to the living room. You were greeted with warm, knowing smiles. 

“You look gorgeous.” Nancy rose from her seat, coming over to give your arms a comforting rub. “Really, he’s not gonna know what hit him.”

You nodded, trying not to look as nervous as you felt. “Thanks, Nance.”

“It makes so much sense, doesn’t it? I mean, I really should play matchmaker more often. I’m changing lives here!” Robin shook Vickie’s thigh where her hand rested, excitedly. It made everyone chuckle.

Jonathan took another sip of his drink. “Now you’ve just gotta find someone for Ed—”

A knock at the door. Fuck. In an instant, every ounce of confidence you had flew straight out of the window. And your face must’ve shown it, because Nancy began soothing you again. 

“Hey, look at me.” She whispered, and you did. “You’ve never been this nervous to see him before, right? Pretend this is just another day. Just… Friday.”

You swallowed. It definitely wasn’t just Friday anymore.

Nonetheless, you shot a weak, thankful smile at her, making your way up to the door. Usually, you’d be embarrassed to let your friends see you this way—taking deep breaths, shaking your hands to relieve some anxious energy. Right now, though, you couldn’t care less, much too preoccupied with the thought of Steve’s face. Just open it. Open the door.

So, you did.

And there he was, grinning adorably, smelling of his cologne, wearing a well-fitted sweater... Holding hands with a girl.

“Hey,” He spoke happily, though his eyes searched your face for just a moment, as if you’d let the shock slip through. “This is Brenda.”

Your whole body stiffened, knowing that the rest of the group heard him, and were now searing holes through the back of your head. Your stomach flipped over on itself, even your organs mortified.

“Hi, Brenda.” You forced a smile at the girl, as if every nerve in your body wasn’t on fire. “Come on in.”

As you turned around, you studied the expressions in the room, seeking some kind of escape. Nancy and Vickie at least tried to look normal, staring at the ground or taking a sip of their drink; Jonathan’s brow was furrowed in disbelief, and Robin’s mouth was hanging open, eyes locked on you.

You quickly walked to the couch where Nancy and Jonathan sat, just standing beside it, your fight-or-flight instinct physically unwilling to let you sit. At least Steve and Brenda would have a spot now, right?

The embarrassment was already making your eyes water.

As the two of them entered the uncomfortably silent living room, you saw his eyes scan the room, similarly to how you had—like he was searching for something. And when he didn’t find it, his eyes landed back on you, any trace of his previous smile gone.

“It’s so nice to meet you guys!” Brenda chirped to the group, the tension completely unnoticed by her.

You felt suffocated. Suffocated by your turtleneck, by the silence, by Brenda’s curly, blonde hair and perfectly pink lips—but mostly by Steve, who was still staring at you. You refused to look back. 

“Music!” You squawked, mind numb. “We should put on some music, it’s so quiet—” You strided toward your box of cassettes, sat beside the television, and began scrambling with them. “—I’ve got Tears for Fears, or, um, oh! ABBA, everyone likes ABBA, right? Uh…”

Without you even noticing, Nancy appeared at your side, gently grabbing the tapes from your hands. “Hey, hey. I’ll pick out some music, okay?” Her voice was quiet, forehead creased in concern.

Your movements slowed. You nodded, eyes half-welled with tears. The dam was definitely about to break.

“Okay, well,” You stood up again, arms swaying slightly, feeling everyone’s eyes on you. “You guys sit. I’m, um… I’ll be right back.”

You spun on your heel, making your way to your bedroom, closing the door behind you by leaning on it. The tears began to fall immediately, streaking your face with mascara.

You felt stupid. Stupid for ever letting Robin set this up, stupid for spending so much time making yourself presentable, when Brenda looked so effortlessly beautiful. You’d convinced yourself it would be some sort of magical night, which seemed ridiculous now. Why would Steve want you? More importantly, why would you ever let him affect you this way?

Your chest heaved, trying desperately to keep quiet. The last thing you wanted was more pity.

Soon enough, you heard a soft click from the living room, the faint sounds of Kate Bush coming through the speakers. You considered your options: hide in your room until the party was over, risk someone coming to check on you, go back out there and endure stares of sympathy, or… Leave. 

A rush of adrenaline surged through you, bringing you to your feet. You went to your mirror, attempting to smear away the black marks under your eyes—it was useless, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore. Eddie would call it metal. So, for where you were headed, it was actually perfect.

You snatched your purse off of the dresser, the hurt morphing from sadness to anger, and marched out into the living room, making a bee-line for the front door. Everyone’s heads perked up. Your hand met the doorknob, gripping it tightly, before Steve appeared next to you.

“Hey, can you just wait a sec—where are you going?” He spoke softly, avoiding the rest of the rooms prying ears. His voice was hoarse.

You didn’t look at him. “I’m going to see a show with Eddie.”

“Can you let me explain? Please, just—”

Your head turned sharply, reddened eyes daggering through his solemn, brown ones. “I’m embarrassed, Steve. I’m…” You swallowed, fighting back any more tears. “I can’t be here right now. Can’t I just go?”

He brought a hand up, running it anxiously through his own hair. He looked dejected, and despite how much you wanted to hate him at this moment, your heart panged. It wasn’t enough to make you stay; not when Brenda was still on your couch. Not when the rest of the group felt sorry for you.

“Okay,” He finally breathed, barely audible. You started to open the door, and he softly took hold of your wrist. “Just be safe. Please.”

You looked at him, heart thrumming in your chest, eyelashes stuck together from the mixture of tears and makeup. “Have a good night. I’m… I’m sorry I ruined it.”

And with that, you were out the door, despite his attempt to say something else.

 · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The show was an adequate distraction.

When you’d shown up at The Hideout, scouting Eddie out in the crowd, he was shocked to see you. He was even more shocked to see the state you were in—makeup destroyed, eyes puffy, a hand clinging shakily to your purse. He immediately threw an arm around you, eyes expectant for an explanation.

“He brought a girl,” you’d shouted over the music. Eddie couldn’t have rolled his eyes any harder, squeezing your arm in frustration. “He’s even dumber than I thought then,” He yelled back. 

Steve was dumb. Purposefully dumb? You didn’t think so, and that made it all the more difficult to stay angry.

You were thankful for Eddie more than ever. He was always great at taking your mind off of things, getting you to let loose, have fun; it may have been the worst Valentine’s Day of your life, but at least he had given it some kind of silver lining. It was almost impossible not to smile around him, especially when he was acting extra goofy, insistent on lifting your spirits.

When he drove you home, the events of the night began to set in again. You dreaded your next conversation with Steve, whenever that would happen—I’m so sorry, but I just don’t feel that way about you, you could hear him saying, shoving the embarrassment deeper down your throat.

You considered never speaking to him again, just to spare yourself that feeling.

“Do you want me to come in?” Eddie laid a gentle hand on your knee, his beaten-up car parked a few feet from your door. 

“No, I’m okay.” You assured him, unconvincingly, and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “Think I just need to wallow tonight, y’know?”

He nodded, looking down at his lap. “I’m sorry, seriously. Kind of want to kill the kid.”

That brought a small smile to your face. “Don’t tempt me, I might just give you the go-ahead.” 

The two of you looked at each other, sharing a small chuckle. Eventually, you reached over, hugging him tight.

“Thank you for tonight. Really, I needed it.” You whispered, and he gave your back a comforting rub. “Anytime, you know that.”

You exited the car, already starting to wish you’d said yes to Eddie’s offer, and made your way to the door. Through the windows, you could see that most of the lights were off—everyone had gone home, thank God, though you were sure Robin and Nancy would be calling off the hook to talk about everything.

You jiggled the handle open, greeted by your dark living room, apart from the one lamp emanating warm light. And underneath it, Steve.

Sitting upright on the couch, head leaned back, arms crossed. Fast asleep.

You froze, a tightness in your chest. It was exactly what you didn’t want right now, to see him, have to talk to him. And for whatever reason, something in you was glad to find him there. 

You softly shut the door behind you, sat your bag on the coffee table, and took a seat beside him. The cushion dipping under your weight caused him to stir awake: his head lulled to the side, eyes fluttering open. They widened at the sight of you. 

“Hey.” His voice was gravelly from sleep, and he was quick to adjust himself to a more awake position. He cleared his throat, though it did little for his voice. “You’re home.”

“Yeah.” You mumbled, toying with your skirt. “Did… did you stay?”

“I was worried about you.” He looked into your eyes, and you wanted to look away, but you didn’t. “And I needed to talk to you.”

“What about Brenda?”

“I took her home. Came back.”

“Look,” You started, finding the strength to avert your gaze. “I don’t… I don’t want anyone else feeling bad for me. It was Robin’s idea, and of course you don’t feel that way about me, it was really stupid of me to assume—”

“Stop.” He blurted, somewhat forcefully. You blinked at him. “Please, just stop. I fucked up tonight, really bad. When I got the invite, I thought you’d have someone with you. It just… I’m an idiot. If I wasn’t an idiot, I would’ve never brought Brenda.”

Your stomach flipped familiarly, like it did when you heard a knock at the door earlier. “She was  beautiful, though.”

“She isn’t you.” His hand landed on your thigh, and his eyes darted to it for a moment, as if he hadn’t meant to. You both lingered there.

When he realized you weren’t going to push it away, he continued. “If—if when you went out with Eddie… I mean, if I blew my chance, I understand.”

Blew his chance. You wondered if he could ever truly do that.

“Steve, Eddie was just cheering me up.” You couldn’t help but smile a little, putting your hand over his. “He’s not my Valentine, if that’s what you’re asking. He does kind of want you dead, though.”

“They all want me dead, trust me.” He blew air out of his lips, eyebrows raising.

“What do you mean?”

“After you left, Brenda went to the bathroom, and I got a thorough bitching out.” 

You bit your lip, trying to hide the happiness that brought you. “You kind of deserved it, though.”

“Oh, absolutely.” He affirmed. There were a few moments of stillness, your touching hands drawing both of your attention. 

“Is Brenda your Valentine?” You wondered, voice softer. 

“Didn’t ask her to be.” He looked up at you, voice matching your tone. “Are you still… looking for one?”

Your eyes were locked, melting under each other's gaze. You could almost feel his breath.  His free hand came up to cradle your face, thumbing across your stained cheek. 

“There’s really only one I wanted.”

“Same here.” He whispered.

You quickly leaned forward, disturbing the stillness of the moment, and slotted your lips with his. He tasted like beer and strawberry chapstick, and smelled like a warm summer day—one that broke through the chill you’d been feeling all evening. Butterflies erupted inside you, fluttering in your stomach, your heart, your veins.

Your hands came up to clutch at his chest, the fabric of his sweater crinkling beneath your fingers. The kiss, which had started fervent, softened; the two of you broke apart, and he stole a peck at the corner of your mouth, foreheads resting against each other.

You both took heavy breaths, caused more by emotion than physical exertion, chests rising and falling in unison.

“I gotta make it up to you.” He breathed. You shook your head ever so slightly, a grin playing across your lips. 

“Steve, you already—”

“I’ll be your Valentine every day, for as long as you let me.”

You thought it might’ve been the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to you. Your forehead creased, trying not to let your eyes water, this time for a much better reason. As close as your faces were, you knew he noticed anyway.

“Deal?” His eyes searched your own, voice small, as if he was afraid you might say no.

You couldn’t stop a happy huff from leaving your lips, a single tear fighting its way out of the corner of your eye. “Deal.”

He beamed, pressing his lips into yours, as if he’d been awaiting the opportunity to do it again.

Steve Harrington became yours on Valentine’s Day, 1986. A Friday. A day you’d almost always ignored, until you didn’t. A day you were almost certain was going to be the worst day of your life, until it wasn’t. In fact, it might’ve been the best. 

Because Steve would continue to be yours each Friday after that—and every day in between, too.

[shotorozu]

pretend boyfriend

(i use guardian because idk there was this one time i used “mom” in a though unrelated n old draft and i showed it to someone and they replied with “i don’t have a mom” 😧)

note(s): also this totally wasn’t inspired by something that happened to me some time ago 😭 and this upload is late so IGNORE that it’s no longer february (actually, for 10 days now) and focus on how i’m early for white day— basically a day in japan in which guys give chocolate to their crush or partner instead of girls giving chocolates to guys (which happens on valentines day) white day is on march 14 btw

»»————-　♡　————-««

you realize your sad plan for your single, partner-less white day— an extension of valentines day, backfired on you when your guardian asks you about a boyfriend upon your usual visit from school.

“what?” you question, sounding unbelieving of the question, like it was a collection of meaningless words. “i don’t have a boyfriend—”

“the chocolates say otherwise,” they point out, interested in the heart shaped box of sweets. “can i see a picture? i need to know if they’re good for you!”

what an… interesting way to determine who’s good for you. “there’s no boy— no one, trust me.” you insist, sounding a little more panicked than you would’ve liked— and this only fueled her suspicion.

“there has to be someone, you’re beautiful!” they insist. you would’ve felt complimented if it weren’t for the context of it all, and also the fact that they’re just talking about physicality “really, who gave it to you?”

you’re hesitant to say that you actually bought them yourself, not just to replicate the experience of having a significant other, (now that you’ve realized how hard you’ve been pining over someone incredibly unattainable)

but also because you couldn’t resist the contents of the box.

sure, you were given other pieces of chocolate and sweets from your classmates even some of the girls! (which wasn’t common to see on white day of all days) and a suspiciously expensive looking cupcake box landed on your table too.

(you didn’t eat it, you just couldn’t accept the fact that it wasn’t actually decor, until you went to eat lunch and smelled the thing.)

but those chocolates were obviously obligatory, considering the context of white day. besides, the box you bought was different— it had all your favorite flavors and it was from your favorite sweets brand. you just couldn’t help but tear a small portion of your allowance out of your wallet for this treat alone.

you don’t know what your guardian would say— they’d either insist that you’re lying, or they’d make fun of you, and none of these options sound appealing.

you deflate, not having a good defense. “… a friend.”

they don’t seem convinced. nobody used a friend to refer to their actual friend. you mentally beat yourself over this simple mistake.

this only proves their point, “hmm, okay..”

there’s a beat of silence.

“i’m still expecting a picture.”

your heart rate picks up, and you can feel your veins be filled with anxiety.

and now you’re returning to the dorms, absolutely mortified— and it clearly shows on your face based on how your best friend, todoroki shouto, approaches you at the front door with a concerned look.

“you look.. distressed.” he notes out loud, as he opens the door.

shouto’s quick to help you get your shoes off, letting you lean on him as you undo your shoelaces. he pulls off each shoe afterwards— the action so casual.

“it’s because i am, shouto!” you exclaimed, following him in. “i did something stupid and now i’m paying the consequences of my actions!”

shouto’s two toned brows furrow, there’s a deep look settled on his pretty face— and he draws all his focus on you. “whatever it is, we can fix it.”

“i’m sure but, my ego! my dignity!” you groan, and your hands cover your face as if it’ll burrow you away from the embarrassment and transport you to a place of peace.

“i won’t laugh,” he says, an indirect way of saying that he won’t absolutely clown you for any of your decision making skills.

shouto then holds his pinkie up, waiting for you to take it. it’s a clear show that he’s intent. “promise.”

“sure,” you say as you link pinkies, the warmth of his pinkie making embarrassment creep up your neck instantly. “i trust you.”

you breathe in as preparation. “i bought chocolates for myself and my guardian thinks i have a boyfriend and is asking for a picture, so now i’m screwed because i don’t have a boyfriend in the first place, and i’ve told them that i don’t but they just don’t believe me, so i might have to get a fake boyfriend for a picture!”

all of it just spilled out at once. you aren’t even sure if shouto understood, let alone was able to comprehend all of it due to the lack of reaction.

but when you carefully examine— you realize that a reaction slowly shows on his face, like it just dawned on him the information you’ve dumped.

“fake boyfriend.” he echoes, “for a picture.”

“yes!” you groan, mortified of the other possible solution of the matter being slapped in your face again, “and they need to be tall, handsome, and apparently someone that looks rich— don’t know how a picture can prove that, we don’t even have jobs.”

“anyway, they’ll just criticize me for my choice in people.” you sigh, “i’m lost.”

he folds his arms together, and he unintentionally flexes. your eyes follow the movement for a short second before you realize that you cannot be caught gawking at someone you’ve met when you were both five. “it appears you are quite in a situation.”

“yeah..”

“if only there was someone available to help.”

“yeah—”

“someone close to you.”

“i figured— it’d be awkward to ask someone who i’m not really close with to be my fake…” you trail off, brows furrowing when you realize there might be some insinuation in his words. you can’t tell what he is necessarily eluding to— but,

you take a good look at shouto— an very good look. you size him up, and he allows this as he is basically standing politely. there’s a fixed look of stillness in every aspect of his expression, and he’s calm when he speaks,

“i could play the role.” he suggests like he doesn’t understand the weight of his words, or he doesn’t care that much about it.

you can feel your heart in your throat all of a sudden, and the beat of it is becoming painfully loud.

“shouto,” you somehow manage to get out, “they know who you are.”

your deep rooted history together as close friends would be seen as a plus point, if it weren’t for the fact that you’ve refrained from showing (let alone hinting) any sign of your feelings for him. shouto did the same, except you are absolutely sure he doesn’t want anything more than platonic with you— as he has displayed no such signs.

the sudden shift of events would raise more questions instead of just solving one.

besides, who doesn’t know him nowadays? he’s tall, good looking, strapped with money and a multipurpose and hella useful quirk. heck— his appearance during the sports festival was a huge thing and has definitely made a positive mark on his reputation.

additionally, it was hard for your guardian to miss someone with an alluring presence like shouto’s, and a head full of naturally snow-like, and flaming red hair.

you think carefully before coming up with something easy. “what if i just asked one of the girls to wear an oversized hoodie; and stand on a stool? i’d crop out their face, of course. kyouka or yaomomo could—”

before you were allowed to finish your thought, shouto continued to press on his idea. “i’d be the most preferable, since the backstory makes the most sense.”

you pause. you’ve never thought of an actual backstory for you too, and you couldn’t quite indulge in the self blame— you didn’t think he’d agree at all.

“childhood friends turned best friends, and with a bond that drew us together.” his gaze fleets somewhere below your eyes, and then he draws them back up— a small boyish grin now blessing his face. “besides, you’d be in quite some trouble if they asked for a picture of their face.”

oh, that description sounded way too close to home, so much that you forgot. now that shouto mentioned one, that solution does seem to have its loop holes.

“touché.” the lengths he’d do for you is admirable, and your heart would’ve stuttered if it weren’t for the dull reminder from the back of your mind, of what it’s really like between the two of you.

“so uhm, what now? do you want to take the picture right later or—”

“now would be good.”

“oh uh, okay then…” shouto never wastes time, even when it came to unimportant stuff it seems, and he watches as you shift around to find your phone.

getting your phone is something that never takes any time, but with everything being taken account for, your hands are starting to feel like jelly.

after opening your camera app and switching to selfie mode, you position your phone carefully. not just like a photographer that was about to capture a rare wild animal laying still, but also similarly to how people take pictures with celebrities.

you are cautious of the angle. although you’ve almost seen every single expression that he could make— you’re worried how you could make everything look good, make him look phenomenal. (although it seems impossible to make him look anything but)

you end up snapping a photo that’s majorly of him, and the only show of you being in the same frame was the very top of your head shoved to the corner of the screen.

the two of you stare at the photo, exchanging glances. you might think that this is enough, considering that this photo of shouto is nowhere on the internet. so— plus one for authenticity, sorta.

he’s not your real boyfriend, but your guardian won’t know that from looking at the picture.

“let’s do a retake.”

you nearly stumble, like his words were a gust of strong wind. “huh?”

“this photo.. doesn’t seem authentic. i wouldn’t know what it’d be like to be in a relationship but the couples on television look— different. don’t you think?”

you take another look at the photo. although the couples shouto is referring to are actresses and actors playing roles— he’s right for the most part. the distance between the two of you is hard to miss, nobody would be able to guess that you two were together.

not to mention, it’s more of a picture of him instead of the both of you.

“alright then,” you say in agreement. “any suggestions?”

“if i may.”

“of course you may,” you encourage.

“then…” he shifts, feet moving closer to you. “if you’ll allow me.”

shouto’s hands reach out, and you’re immediately drawn to them. although unsure about his next course of action, you don’t stop him as he pulls you close— hands with contrasting temperatures maneuvering the positions to his liking.

eventually, the two of you were positioned in a way that made you encase shouto in your arms and have you turnt slightly towards the camera.

the side of your faces are pressed against each other’s, and despite trying your best to stop it, the proximity had your heart thumping against your ribcage once again.

making sure you don’t prolong the ordeal more than you need to— you snap the picture and attempt to pick yourself up afterwards.

but shouto makes no effort in detaching himself from you, relaxing in your arms as he leans against you to view the picture. you feel yourself flustering again, and you just know that he could end you one day and be blissfully unaware of how and why.

although you just took a big risk that could possibly have your feelings found out— you were just as curious as he was to see the outcome.

and you two seemed like a couple indeed.

“thoughts?” you ask in place of allowing yourself to slowly pass away on the inside. your skin feeling increasingly hot all of a sudden, and you’re confident the boy beside you has nothing to do with it this time.

“just as i suspected.” a small smile pulls at his lips, “we look good together.”

your brain buffers, “huh?—”

and then, he’s pressing his soft lips onto your cheek— pulling back as quickly as he pressed his lips onto you.

you choke on practically nothing, and you stare at him with eyes so wide they rival saucers.

and then it started to make sense, “what— are you playing me?— you’re doing all of this for a picture i didn’t even take!”

he tilts his head, confused for a moment before letting out a disapproving noise. “i… was teasing at some point, but i would never play you. i even pinkie swore.” he said, holding the same pinkie he linked with yours earlier to prove his memory.

“so why… after all this time?”

his gaze sharpens, “why not?” he states simply, “i figured just recently that.. the feelings are mutual, and that you’re interested in the way i’m interested in you.”

he clutches you, shoving himself deeper in your embrace, “besides, there was no way i’d let you ask anyone else to be your pretend boyfriend when i’m right here.”

“it would be just for a picture though.” you note, slightly amused that todoroki shouto was jealous at the idea of having a pretend boyfriend for a picture— even if said pretend boyfriend were to be one of the girls from your class.

a specific blank expression is pinned onto his face. “still.” he replies, quite dryly.

though the expression immediately melts away as he says these next words, “now then,” gorgeous, gorgeous heterochromatic eyes meeting yours in a gaze. shouto holds it, and it seems that he’s taking advantage of his effect on you. he’s quick, not to mention— observant too.

“we should take another picture, one that’s much real.”

[save-the-villainous-cat]

could u do a villain having a crush on hero, but not admitting it, and the other villains/henchmen teasing them for it bc they’re all “i am the epitome of darkness and all things evil” but when hero shows up they’re a blushing mess 😭 love ur writing <3

The henchman looked down at their victim. Slowly, they kicked them with their boot over, so that they were lying on their back. Blood was dripping down a wound on their forehead and their eyes seemed to be glassy already. What they hated the most about this job was the cleaning. A crime scene was truly hard to make look like before.

They wrinkled their nose.

“Looking pretty dead, if you ask me.” They turned towards their boss and tilted their head, hopefully signalling them that this meant they could wrap things up.

“We haven’t checked all of the perimeter,” the villain noted. The henchman knew quite well the villain wasn’t the best at concentrating on one thing. However, when it came to the hero, they were easily determined. They let their bloody knuckles crack, one after the other and the henchman wasn’t even sure why they had agreed to help the villain in the first place. This seemed a little too private. Even for them. “I’m curious about the basement.”

“Believe me, no one survived. And even if they did, they’re long gone. No one’s here anymore.” The henchman looked around and their eyes went over the warm bodies. They had to admit, these were quite drastic measures but the villain was…a special person.

“Hm.” Their boss was clearly not satisfied with that answer, so they started fidgeting. For as long as the henchman had known them, they weren’t one to be still. They walked up and down like a panther in a cage, searching through files and for cameras, taking in heavy breaths when they were frustrated, frowning when they got distracted. All of that was pretty much normal but the henchman also knew that they were nervous and moving more than usually.

It was an open secret now that people tried to assassinate the city’s saviour and the villain had tried everything in their power to prevent it.

It had been a long, incredibly and frustratingly long journey to watch the villain fall in love. They were stubborn and apparently not capable of allowing themselves to feel anything besides…rage. So, when the henchman had to watch them flirt with the hero awkwardly, they felt like a kid watching their parents.

Strangely sweet and totally embarrassing. God, what a mess.

So, it didn’t surprise the henchman that the villain tried to eliminate every possible threat.

“Your little hero will surely survive if one or two people attack them,” they said eventually. “They’re pretty tough.”

“This isn’t about the hero.” That made the henchman roll their eyes.

“No, you obviously just like killing random people.” The villain looked up from the papers they were looking through and frowned. It was like dealing with a teenager who was too embarrassed to ask out their crush and the henchman was so unbelievably sick of it.

“How about you look through this old bad boy—” they slapped the PC on the table next to them “—instead of being such a nuisance?”

The henchman grinned.

“I don’t think the hero likes people who insult their friends,” they said as they (reluctantly) sat down and turned on the computer. The desktop was illuminated by a strange blue light, dipping the already dark room into a weird atmosphere.

“Oh, what would you know about what they like…” The henchman could see the villain’s ears turn red and it would have been impressive what kind of power the hero had over them if it wasn’t so pathetic.

“Well, what would you know? You can’t even look them in the eyes when they talk to you.” That one team-up a few months ago had been really strange. An undeniable chemistry had been looming around the hero and the villain. Both got excited about the other’s tech, both technically read each other’s minds when they were creating plans and both were too oblivious to notice the people around them and their ugh-get-a-room-looks. Everyone on the team referred to it as The Incident. At least the villain had been in a good mood for the whole week after that.

“That’s, hey, that’s not true.”

“I don’t blame you. It’s like the whole city is thirsting after them. People definitely have too much time on their hands,” the henchman mumbled as they tried all kinds of password combinations to get into the computer. They looked over to the villain who seemed…determined? To be thinking a little too much?

“But the hero wouldn’t sleep with a fan…right?”

“If it’s too hot in summer, they probably will,” the henchman answered as the computer announced for the third time that their access got denied.

“Ah, forget it.” The villain showed absolutely no appreciation for their joke and somehow that was what did it for the henchman.

“Okay, listen.” The henchman pushed themselves away from the desk and rolled over to the villain with their chair. “You both are incredibly pathetic people and I truly believe that I will throw myself out of a window if I have to watch you flirt with them one more time.”

“…I’m not that bad, am I?”

The henchman sighed.

“They like you. They like you a lot. You obviously care for each other.”

“Debatable,” the villain said and the henchman wanted to pull out their hair.

“Okay,” the henchman said. “I’ll ask them out then.”

The look the villain gave them was indescribable.

[green-wat3r]

I am so shy I never post anything 😭 buuut I thought perhaps I could share my thoughts on jr books that I rant to my friends about (sorry I am not going in order also this is literally copy pasted from discord LOLL) here we have book eightt

Book 8 t h o u g h t s:

- THEYRE OFFICIALLY FRIENDS NOW LMAOOO every time they called each other friends I was like aaaaaaaaaa even though it *shouldnt* be that big of a deal but like. It is. Even seigi was super excited abt it and he said like isn’t it a little too late for this??? And I’m like seigi. That’s what I’ve been telling you

- this book really cemented that Richard is just. A person. Usually I would use the phrase “just some guy” but a jeweler who comes from the British aristocracy is obviously not *just some guy*. What I mean is, it was made apparent to me in this book that richard is just a guy with flaws, as is everyone, and it showed me that it’s probably intentional writing to make him seem overly perfect in the beginning but as we see more of him we realize he’s not just a mid-ly written character LOL he’s literally meant to seem perfect when he’s NOT and I love how much richard lore we got in this one!! Seriously he’s just a guy lol. A guy who sometimes gets irrationally mad at his mom, and who can unexpectedly catch colds, and stuff

- seigi and richard have been around each other for too long. I can tell. Their vocabularies are merging bc seigi’s is getting fancier and Richard’s is getting more casual and right now it’s an in between of sometimes not being able to tell who’s talking just based on the words they’re saying, and I think it’s great writing to have the characters visibly affect each other like that!! Also they are such. A fricking couple

- I forgot about this, but seigi really can be absolutely savage when he needs to be oh my god. I mean he made some threats in book 4 and yeah damn but here he really unleashed his full potential oh boy.

- there was not nearly enough of seigi being a total simp in this one. Say what you will but #letseigisimp2024/j

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

like i will never forget that dream made a joke about vikkstar raping tubbos sister and then had the gall to deny it bc like. i have seen that vod! he's fucking lying about it being out of context- the whole context is that lani mentioned she was in vikkstars bed. there’s no reason to question that in gameplay and vikkstar wasn’t even on the server when she played so it’d make no sense to ask about something gameplay related, and outside of gameplay… what else could you be implying? a thirteen year old says they’re sleeping in someone’s bed and you joke about having to talk to them. it’s a paedophilic rape joke he's too cowardly to admit to but he made the SAME EXACT JOKE a few years later except he was joking about raping kids and I don’t believe his shallow apology for five fucking seconds because he has a PATTERN of sexual jokes towards minors. HE GOT A MINOR TO TELL HIM HE LOVED HIM IN PRIVATE DMS. no amount of arguing it’s platonic makes it okay if your sixteen year old told you a grown ass man said that they had to say they loved him in DMs to keep their friend's minecraft farms YOU WOULD CALL THE FUCKING COPS BECAUSE THAT IS LITERALLY COMPLETELY UNACCEPTABLE FOR AN ADULT TO DO IN ANY CIRCUMSTANCES WITH A MINOR. plus his “i can totally know what a complete stranger wants without asking her (and I’m definitely not going to always assume she wants it bc i feel entitled to her body)” and his fucking hasty backtracking about it being with an ex like bro you were talking about hookups it’s such a pathetic save. every time i think about how much of a pathetic misogynist he is and how much he thinks children being raped is prime comedy I get so mad like legit i always try to take things in good faith and the best I can come up with is that he's a misogynistic creep bc THAT IS THE BEST FAITH INTERPRETATION OF MULTIPLE TIMES MAKING JOKES OUT OF CHILD RAPE INCLUDING HIMSELF BEING A PAEDOPHILIC GROOMER. he's at best a piece of shit and at worst a fucking paedophile and like don’t come at me with the allegations bro if you think raping kids is funny and edgy youre at best a creep and at worst a nonce. he's genuinely such a piece of shit. and this isn’t even getting into the constant racism, ableism, scamming, throwing random people under the bus for kicks, bullying, ect. he's an utterly awful person but he’s decent enough at hiding it that it’s not obvious until you have a full timeline of events. bc it makes it clear he NEVER stopped thinking rape was funny and that women are inherently lesser than him and that he can do whatever he wants to people as long as he adds a just kidding disclaimer and pretends to be a feminist when he obviously despises women. he’s a sick man and a manipulative scumbag and this is the BEST reading of him possible if you actually know what he’s fucking done and dig through the burying of it and outright lies he’s told.

[dhaaruni]

Kinda a tangent, but speaking of 'the other woman' and knowingly being the mistress regarding the other asks you got on this topic - but what are your thoughts on the idea that the other woman, or people in general just 'don't owe you anything' almost always coupled with the statement that 'people are inherently selfish' given as an excuse for cheating a lot of the time. I knew of a woman whose husband cheated on her and had a longtime mistress. They divorced, it was all very traumatic for her, and she was in a FB group of like, new divorcees, or whatever, who used the group as like group therapy or support. She vented about the other woman and shit talked her. But then the FB group admin messaged her saying that it wasn't nice to shit on the other woman and that the other woman 'didn't owe her anything' and other people in the group agreed with the admin. I was gobsmacked by this.

I simply don't get or agree with this new line of thinking where apparently we just....don't 'owe' people anything unless we are apparently like, best friends with them or in a romantic relationship with them, which is pretty fucking bleak. I totally get the idea of not 'owning' a stranger your time, money, or emotional effort like you would a loved one per se, but there is a big difference between 'I don't owe this person my time/effort' and 'I will engage in actions to actively harm them and that totally doesn't make me a bad person because I never was friends/family/etc. with them to begin with.' I feel like this idea of not owing anyone anything has some sinister implications for what the logical conclusion of this thinking will lead to. I also think this thinking just ignores basic human id and ego. Like, OF COURSE, women will hold hatred for the other woman. I would think it's weird if they didn't lmao.

Also, I've never been cheated on, but if my bf/husband cheated on me with a woman who knew about me, I won't be acting like a feminist about it I fear. Sorry not sorry lmao.

Honestly, none of this stuff reflects well on the women who participate in these kinds of antics. Obviously the highest amount of blame goes to the person who cheats on their partner but it's still shitty behavior to hook up with let along carry on an affair with someone who is in a relationship, even if you're single! You can brush off a youthful indiscretion once, but in the words of Ariana Madix from Vanderpump Rules, “These aren’t mistakes anymore, they’re pointed, choices. This is a pattern, a personality, this is who this person is.” Eventually, your bad behavior becomes your identity.

Like, a few years ago, my former friend tried to get me to homewreck a guy she knew by going "oh he tried to come upstairs when he walked me home and he's a great guy so you should go for him." This guy had a live-in girlfriend the entire time, which I learned naturally because him and I became friends and we got drinks/dinner a few times and he told me about her! And honestly, given her penchant for pathological lying that I learned about months later, I don't even believe he tried to follow her up to her apartment after he walked her home!

The point is, I just fundamentally abhor interpersonal shadiness. There's a HUGE difference between hooking up when single and cheating! A lot of people date around and don't commit to people, and eventually, most of those people end up getting into stable, monogamous relationships. The issue is a lack of transparency, and as a side note, it's deeply infantilizing to pretend the Ariana Grande's of the world don't realize what they're doing when they seek out attached men. It's a source of power for them, that they can hook a guy who's in a committed relationship and I'm not sure why we pretend otherwise.

[antebunny]

go for it, Lois Lane!

FOUR WEEKS BEFORE CLARK JUMPS OUT A WINDOW

Lois has a crush on Clark for six months, two weeks and three days before she asks him out. Not that she’s counting or anything. It feels a little silly to say “crush,” even though that’s what it is. It feels even sillier for a go-getter person like Lois to wait for so long before asking, but really, her reasons are completely logical and totally understandable.

First, she’s friends with Clark for about a year before she considers that he may actually like her back, and he’s only keeping quiet about it because he’s, well, Clark. After that is when the “crush” develops in which Lois continuously overthinks every act of friendship she previously took for granted. 

Second, Lois is the senior at work, even though they’re the same age. For the first couple weeks or so, it was her job to show him the ropes, which makes speculating about a relationship feel inappropriate. Though as far as improprieties go, Lois is not sure this one is even on the list. 

Third, it’s never a good idea to date someone from work. This sticking point holds Lois back for a while until she realizes that Clark is not just a friend from work.

“Uh, where do you want the fridge?” Clark’s voice is muffled from behind the boxed side-by-side refrigerator held precariously in his arms.

It’s move-in day for Lois and her new apartment, and she recruited a bunch of friends to help her. Friends from work, friends from college, people who just happened to be in Metropolis at the right time. Mostly they’re just free labor to her, but Lois bought some very nice wine and snacks to share, and she started off with her closest friends.

“Just put it on the kitchen floor!” Lois calls back.

Clark is one of her favorite friends.

This is the realization that sinks in as Clark settles the refrigerator carefully on the kitchen tiles. Even if one of them quit working at the Daily Planet, Lois is confident that they’d still find time to meet up. They are friends outside of work too.

“Phew!” Clark catches Lois’ eye from across the living room and smiles that goofy smile of his. He rolls his shoulders back as he straightens, but there’s not a hint of sweat as he wipes the back of his hand across his forehead. “That was pretty heavy.”

Lois rolls her eyes fondly. He’s obviously lying; there’s not a hint of perspiration, no heaving chest, or anything other sign of exertion. It’s kind of sweet that he feels the urge to comfort her about the difficulty of lifting her boxes. Unnecessary, as Lois never had any plans to carry it around herself, but sweet nonetheless.

That’s just how Clark is. He’s kind of a coward, but he’s surprisingly strong. And so what if he’s not a daredevil? This isn’t the 1600s. She doesn’t want him to grab a horse and a lance and joust for her honor. He’s thoughtful, he remembers the little things, he respects her, he’s quietly funny, he can cook, and he is genuinely kind-hearted. Of course she likes him. 

One by one, her friends bow out and head home. Ellis helps her get the last rug down, gleefully samples all of her wines, and has to be driven home by Xochitl. Perry swipes a handful of snacks on his way out, Irene takes the subway and a taser, and Meg, self-proclaimed expert bedroom decorator, sets up hangings and decorative pillows until her phone hits 10% battery and she catches a midnight cab home.

In the end, it’s just Lois and Clark, settled in her newly-furnished living room and talking into the wee hours of the morning. Politics, arts, home decor, lead pipes in housing projects, superheroes and the proper way to grill a chicken; Lois will lose her voice before she runs out of conversation topics. She wishes she could have this regularly. Just her and Clark, passing around a bottle of wine or that mysterious red-blue ice cream flavor that Clark likes. 

Clark, Lois knows, lives alone, and it’s so hard for a big guy like him to take the subway at midnight. Still, he’s had a little wine, so it’s not ideal. Maybe that’s why, when Clark eventually slaps his knees and reluctantly says that he should get going, Lois speaks up.

“You could stay.”

Okay, so it’s not the wine that drops her stomach off a cliff when he rises and heads for the door. But in any case, he pauses at her words, and glances at the couch. It’s white and soft, ideal for sleeping, but Lois doesn’t have a change of clothes for him. At least, nothing that fits him. Clark had only intended to help a friend move into her new apartment.

“Do you have a spare blanket?” Clark asks. He tips his head to the side. “For the couch?”

Lois hesitates, still thinking of what he will wear tomorrow (Sunday) even though no one in Metropolis will blink twice at a man walking around in a giant marshmallow costume. Really, she muses, it’s better for him not to wear clothes at all. And then she’s thinking of her nice new bed, which deserves a housewarming party of its own, and maybe it’s the wine, or the lighting, or the (to emulate Clark) gosh-darn genuineness of Clark’s question, but–

“Don’t have to take the couch,” Lois blurts out. “Could come to bed with me.” She’ll blame the wine to the end of time, but her cheeks immediately color deep red. “That’s not how I wanted to say it. I don’t mean just–I like you.”

Oh, this is embarrassing. This is really quite off-game for Pulitzer prize winning journalist Lois Lane. She swears she usually has more game than this.

Clark smiles the crooked little smile of his. “Are you asking me to be your boyfriend, Ms. Lane?”

Well, she always knew that Clark was at least as embarrassing as her. 

Lois tosses her dirty blond hair back, one hand on hip, reclaiming her dignity through performance. “And if I am, Smallville?” 

Clark beams. “Then yes.”

Faster than Lois knew was humanly possible, Clark crosses the space between the front door and the arm of the couch. Lois rises to her feet, vaguely shocked by how much taller Clark is than her when he’s not hunching his shoulders as per usual. The breadth of those shoulders nearly halves when he’s hunching them, too. He hides so much with the way he carries himself. His sense of humor, his silent, steely convictions, his compassion; everything that makes him Clark Kent.

He’s not hiding anything now. Clark bends his head down, a boyish smile on his face. Behind those thick glasses of his, his eyes are shockingly blue. The stubble on his chin brushes against her forehead. He leans in. And all Lois can think is: holy shit, I can’t believe that worked.

Whoever said the course of true love never did run smooth? Lois thinks it’s pretty easy. 

SIX MONTHS BEFORE CLARK JUMPS OUT A WINDOW

Lois discovers Superman’s weird obsession with her around the same time as she’s learning about the existence of Superman. The Flash has been running (ha) around Central City for a few years now, the Batman is somewhere between urban legend and dangerously real vigilante, and everyone knows Wonder Woman. Superheroes are not uncommon. But Superman is the first one to really stick for Metropolis. And as always, Lois Lane is right on the case. 

She’s worried, now, that her persistent, journalistic pursuit of the guy might have been taken as interest. Perhaps this worry could be interpreted as ego-inflating, i.e. can you believe it? Superman is just soooo obsessed with me. But Lois can safely make this claim from her unwanted vantage point of Superman’s arms.

 He’s saved her from falling to her death, or so he says. Lois doesn’t know that she was truly in danger of falling, but she’s not going to argue with the man when he’s carrying her hundreds of feet over Metropolis. Survival instincts 101: don’t talk back to the only person standing between you and certain death. Thank you for coming to her TED Talk. And please note that this is the first red flag. 

In any case, she sure feels weak in the knees when he sets her down gently on the roof of the Daily Planet. He hovers for a moment longer, about a foot off the rooftop. Like he’s forgotten that people generally like to have conversations eye-to-eye.

“If you ever need me, just give me a shout,” Superman says, in a way that’s probably supposed to be comforting. 

Then he flies off without waiting for a response. So much for having a conversation. But Lois is more preoccupied with the implications of give me a shout. Just how far is his hearing range? Can he hear her if she’s underground? Can he hear her in the office? Is he eavesdropping on the conversations she has with coworkers? 

Lois makes it down to the Daily Planet offices in record time. This is not the first, and, distressingly, probably not the last time that Superman has dropped her off on the rooftop of the Daily Planet. She slinks back into her cubicle, glances left and right, and ignores the knowing looks of her coworkers. 

“Hey, Bea,” Lois rolls her swivel chair backwards and places an arm on the divider of the desk of her colleague, Beatrice Langford. “Superman ever invite you to dinner?”

Bea stares at her blankly. “No? Why?”

“Just curious.” Lois rolls her chair back to her desk.

Lois is pretty sure that Bea is more conventionally attractive than her, though there’s no accounting for taste. True, Lois is the one pursuing his case on the regular, but just about everyone in her office has had an interaction with Superman, and she hasn’t had significantly more than the average. 

Still, she’d probe Bea more if she weren’t so worried about Superman overhearing. That’s another problem: the fear that he could be watching her at anytime. The more she learns about his abilities, the more scared she becomes. He can hear her heartbeat through a skyscraper. He can see through anything, can smash through every material that is commonly found in a major city. Bullets break on his skin. 

And he asked her to dinner, just over a week ago.

Lois turned him down, of course, as politely as she knew how. Worried, again, about antagonizing the person she was stuck on a rooftop with who could fly, shoot lasers with his eyes like he’s in Star Wars without the cool lightsabers, and send her flying off said rooftop with a flick of his pinky finger. 

Superman has never been anything but polite, if somewhat distressed at totally reasonable times. Still, getting asked to dinner by someone like him is what turns his obsession from weird to worrying.

She looks to her left. Ideally, she could talk about this with Clark. But funnily enough, he’s out of the office again.

[danganronpafan777]

Just finished Danganmon…

Wow… what a ride.

Thank you for requesting for me to watch this fangan!!

I didn’t and still don’t know a lot about Pokémon but the characters and the plot were super freaking good.

The ending made me tear up, and it’s all such a good message.

Here were my reactions to this chapter: (SPOILERS!!!!)

How have they not registered that they’re Pokémon turned humans yet? The tv literally talked about 16 missing Pokémon bruh

My dumbass forgot that there’s 18 students here, so I’m guessing it’s the two knowing traitors? And the mastermind is separate? Wonder who the unknowing traitor is….

Another Cyrus fte? This might be a death flag…

Kami: What’s the outside world like?

Monomoth: Totally fine, but I could be lying

Kami: I don’t trust her

Juno and Cyrus: *offended*

Idk it’s funny to me

Fryyy! I missed him sm

What if dream Fry is actually him from the afterlife? Maybe hes trying to pass on Zoro’s message?

So Cyrillo and Wemi watched Beauty and the Beast together? Could that have been their movie? :(

Wait, could Wem have been the “she” Pearl was talking about??

Kami and Cyrillo watching ratatouille is hilarious tho

Yeah, Cyrillo is MEGA suspicious

CAMERAS IN THEIR EYES?? Oh hell nah

Kami taking the knife: that’s a surprise tool to help us later

Pearl’s raising way too many death flags

Sooo “lil pichu” name is Raichu? 

Literally a Saw motive lol

DAMN IT PEARL!!

Poor Sylvia…

I think the killer/mastermind is Cyrillo tho

Why tf did Cyrus’s hair change color for one panel? 

I’m conflicted after Pearl’s message in the elevator. Like, ur not gonna rat out the mastermind cuz their your friend, even tho they forced you to be the headmaster and kill you?? The complexity def adds some nice depth to Pearl’s character tho

My guess: Cyrillo is the mastermind, and Juno is the unknowing traitor

Damn it Cyrus :((

The closing argument was amazingly done, now I’m just waiting for Cyrillo to go apeshit lol

“She is still alive” ?? Are they talking about Kami or Sylvia or is Cyrillo getting delulu about Wemi??

WTFFFF

The mastermind sprites, the fucking eye holy shit-

I fucking love this 

Cyrus being the traitor was my second guess, and him turning into protag is so cool

THEY FUCKING FRANKENSTEINED WEMI

Afterlife theater bouta be hella awkward

NOOOO JUNO DONT DO IT

Plz let Cyrillo step up and self destruct the building instead plsss

Cyrillo’s mastermind character and motivations are so well done. It was kinda predictable, but the character change and morality, even reciting his story which we thought we knew… He’s obviously not right, but damn I love this villain arc

THREE PEOPLE DYING IN ONE FUCKING EXECUTION WTF

Juno’s last words being that he hoped he was finally useful fucking hurts

Glad Apollo reunited with Yanny from his video, and Cyrus… man is getting by at least

Kami’s message at the end almost made me cry, and I love how she has a Pokémon of her own (No idea what it is, or if there’s some kinda significance to it, but it’s v cute)

The last afterlife theater was perfection ✨

Thank you all for recommending this to me! 😊😊

[memeticsdivision]

1, 7, 13, 24, and 49 for Fenris, and 35 for Cernunnos?

[1] What first impression do they typically make? Are they likeable from the get go, or take time to grow on people?

oh boy this will be a long one (ive answered some of these before in my friends server and it was several paragraphs)

people usually meet him at work, and the first impression is he’s polite, if a little unapproachable. hes outwardly nice and does his best to be respectful but clearly extremely socially awkward and is actively charting the course of every conversation as it happens in order to say the right thing. so by the end of the interaction people usually come out with an impression of just “nice, but a little weird” which is Correct.

off work hes much more standoffish and people would probably see him as a bit rude. he dedicates most of his “making an active effort to function like a normal person in society” energy to his job so if you try to talk to him when hes off hes incredibly avoidant and kinda stonewalls people, and once all of the signals of “i dont really want to talk rn” have been either ignored or pushed back, he doesn’t know how to directly say that he wants to be alone so he just leaves. i wouldn’t say he’s intentionally rude and wants to hurt peoples feelings, he’s either just too tired to make an effort not to come across like that or doesn’t know how to say things in a nicer way. he’s generally more polite with people hes familiar with but this is the default most of the time.

it takes a lot of effort to get to know him, since he’s so closed off and unwilling to be fully honest with people literally ever. he’s also very fucking weird and says a lot of things no well adjusted person would ever say but thats because he is just. very inexperienced with social interaction after spending basically the first 18 years of his life isolated from people (because the second he got away from the forced isolation his parents imposed on him . the covid 19 pandemic happened which is fully canon in this world). he basically has no idea how to be a Normal Person and is essentially very poorly roleplaying that idea. he spent a lot of those years disassociating so he isnt even quite connected to the world at large mentally (and literally). he’s kinda rough around the edges because of a combination of his social anxiety and his hesitation to ever connect with people, he has no friends and thats kind of self-imposed because people Have Tried, you just need to be staunchly determined to get close to him otherwise its Very hard to let him grow on you . he kind of sucks you see (also he is very autistic but is undiagnosed)

[7] Are they a good liar, and what would they probably lie about?

he’s a good liar so long as you know nothing about him, which he’s very good at making sure you don’t. he sometimes makes up completely different stories to explain his past (though he is honest that his parents are dead). if you know a lot about him though, like his therapist, its much easier to see right through him. he’s been lying to her for years about how he’s actually totally been improving because of her advice, that hes taking the meds hes been given and they’re working great for him, that he’s been getting great sleep and isn’t having nightmares anymore, but she knows he doesn’t really listen to her most of the time and doesn’t trust her. he also obviously lies about his powers but most importantly, he lies to himself about his past and the things he’s actually been through, and its very easy to convince himself of those lies [13] What kind of sense of humor do they have, if any?

fenris has a VERY dry sense of humor LOL . mainly because he doesn’t get 70% of humor, it doesn’t rlly land with him and he especially gets annoyed with ones that are just very untrue or exaggerate for the punchline and has a habit of going “erm actually 🤓☝️” but in a pissed off way. he’s kind of like the straight man in comedy situations and mostly laughs along to be polite, its hard to make him genuinely laugh

[24] How hard it is for them to not allow their emotions to cloud their judgement?

it really depends on what the situation is. if its something completely unrelated to him/things he’s personally been through, its very easy for him to emotionally detach himself from things. he finds it difficult to relate when he hasn’t personally experienced something, so his judgement wouldnt be clouded, but it also means it may not be considerate of others. it also depends on how mentally unstable he’s feeling, if its personal but he’s been doing very good in the repressing all your issues department, he can usually keep up a pokerface and stay calm, if not avoiding the core issue. if he hasn’t, though, then he’s very prone to letting feelings like anger and spite take the wheel and he rapidly becomes very outwardly and inwardly destructive, plus he’s stubborn as hell and the second he loses his cool he’s prone to chasing himself off a cliff with the decisions he makes, since “no” in his mind is someone trying to undermine his agency and control him

[49] Do they possess any unexpected skill or knowledge that surprises others, and otherwise, what is something anyone would assume they know or can do, but in fact they don’t?

he knows way too much about the anatomy of the human body for someone with zero interest in pursuing medicine. he couldn’t diagnose you with an illness or disorder, but he could tell you all the ways you can die from the simplest of things to small but messed up things your body does that could either make someone mildly uncomfortable or freak out. he in general knows a lot of morbid facts, since one of his hobbies is just . fact checking posts of people listing those things when he gets bored . which is something most probably dont expect out of him but is definitely something that could be considered a red flag or the first indication of Oh this guys fucking weird . i think by looking at him most people probably would assume he’s into art or something but he isn’t, but he definitely knows at least a little about art history since thats another subject he really likes

as for cernunnos; [35] Do they like their own appearance, and what do they do, if anything, to alter it in any way?

cernunnos HATES their face. they don’t mind the rest of their appearance (hence why they don’t cut their hair or change their clothes), its specifically their face they hate, since it’s what irrefutably identified them as essentially fenris’ “clone” (aka copy), something they desperately dont want to be and dont want to be seen as. so when they decided to go on their suicide-murder quest against fenris, the first thing they did was take care of that, hence why their face is all disfigured and burned - they intentionally did so in order to ruin it until it couldnt be recognized as being fenris’. it was a their way of violently declaring that they arent his copy like they were created by him to be.

as a fun fact to further emphasis how determined they were to separate them from him: cernunnos, by consequence of the way they were made (unable to die), can heal from any potentially deadly injury. their body will repair itself whenever it gets hurt. this means it took them several tries to get their face to the point it is now, since every time they burned it, itd just heal right back to normal. so they essentially did it over and over until it finally stuck (which was when they ripped out their left eye out of frustration)