#there is no romcom plot shush ;-;

[yoon-kooks]

paw prints & presents | jjk

⛓️pairing: hotnerd!jungkook x popular!reader

⛓️genre: smut, fluff, college!au

⛓️summary: You and Jungkook never discussed Valentine’s Day plans, but that doesn’t mean the night won’t include corny Valentine’s cards and you getting down on your hands and knees in pretty pink lingerie for him.

⛓️word count: 2.1k

⛓️warnings: catdilf!jk, dom!jk, sub!reader, daddy/kitten undertones, praise kink, dirty talk, oc is a horny lil brat, dry humping, sex on the couch, handjob, blowjob, face fucking, cumshot, she swallows, oc makes another ignorant comment about earl grey tea lol

⛓️p&p masterlist⛓️

a/n: here's a lil smutty drabble i wrote up for valentine's day! (you don't have to read the other p&p fics before reading this one)💖

You’ve been acting a little weird lately. Ever since February came around, you’ve been asking Jungkook about random shit like his favorite flower (lavender), his favorite romcom (none), his favorite day of the year (nonexistent), and his go-to boba order (you called him grandaddy for saying earl grey again). The most recent question was about his taste in lingerie (doesn’t matter because you’re hot regardless). 

But whenever he asks why you need to know these things, you just shrug your shoulders and pretend like you’re too busy playing with the cat to answer him. The way you always shush the kitten as soon as he enters the room leads him to believe the two of you are up to no good. 

It’s driving him mad.

At one point, he thought you might be sweetening him up for when you go behind his back and adopt another cat because “Lucy needs a friend” and “there’s a cute cow cat at the local shelter.” But something tells him you’ll save the cow cat shenanigans for another time. 

The thing is, he’s not completely clueless here. As much as he doesn’t want to think about it, he’s well aware that Valentine’s Day is around the corner. It’s not a day he typically celebrates, but he also doesn’t know how you feel about it yet. If it’s a big deal to you, he’d want to do something thoughtful to live up to whatever the fuck you’re secretly plotting. At the same time, the two of you still haven’t made it official, so perhaps you aren’t scheming anything related to the most romantic day of the year. Perhaps he’s just overthinking it…

…Or not.

A few days before Valentine’s Day, Jungkook comes home from class early and sees something he shouldn’t have seen. Your laptop is out in the open on his bed, but you’re nowhere to be seen—probably in the bathroom or something. He’s always been the kind of guy to respectfully look away from what’s on other people’s computers or phone screens. But it’s kind of hard to ignore the pink lingerie set you apparently just ordered. The lingerie you normally wear is a sexy black or a sophisticated neutral. But this baby pink one, with the tiny red hearts and bows, is way cuter than what he’s used to seeing you in. It’s giving submissive vibes, for sure.

The thought of you wearing that tiny thing on Valentine’s Day would automatically make February 14th Jeon Jungkook’s new favorite day of the year. And that alone is something to celebrate.

But how exactly is he supposed to celebrate? It seems you have your mind made up on surprising him with pretty pink lingerie, but what can he provide in return without being too cheesy? He’s terrible at shit like this. In fact, one of his exes broke up with him specifically because he wasn’t romantic enough. She wasn’t wrong, but it’s not like he’s going to rewire his entire brain to be romantic enough for someone else’s liking. Maybe that’s fucked up of him. Maybe a good partner would make sacrifices and force themself to change for the sake of the relationship if they truly cared. 

You’re different, though. With you, nothing feels forced. Rather, he gets an urge to do something nice for you, even if it goes against his natural tendencies. And right now, he wants to also surprise you with a little something on Valentine’s Day.

On the big day, he waits for you to leave for your afternoon class. That’ll give him plenty of time to put together the surprise. All he needs is some pink cardstock, markers, paint, ribbon, and a kitten.

As much as he hates cheesy Valentine’s cards, Jungkook finds himself pondering over what to write on the cardstock. Knowing you, it’s safe to go with something silly and funny. Thankfully, you’re an easy one when it comes to humor.

“Have a paw-esome Valentine’s Day, Mommy,” he writes in bold marker. You’ve been hesitant to call yourself the kitten’s mother despite raising her right alongside Jungkook. But it’s clear that you’re doing a good job. “Love, Lucy.”

He picks up the sleepy kitten, dips her paw pads into safe non-toxic paint, and adds her paw print to the bottom of the card like a signature. As the paint dries, he gives the kitty her first bath, blowdries her fur, and ties a pink little ribbon to her collar.

When the sun goes down, Jungkook rolls up the note and attaches it to the kitty’s ribbon like she’s some messenger pigeon. And then the two of them wait on the couch together, kitten loafing in the boy’s lap, for the door to open.

Five long minutes later, your keys jingle around as you unlock the front door.

“Go hide,” he whispers to the kitten who runs off into his room with a frisky tail in the air. She probably thinks he’s playing hide and seek with her like they normally do. Poor thing.

Jungkook makes himself comfortable on the couch again and pulls out his phone to look natural. Totally normal.

“Hi?” you say as soon as you open the door and see him sitting in the dark living room, his floating face illuminated by his phone screen. You hit the light switch as you kick your shoes off and look around for possible booby traps or jumpscares. It seems you’re very aware that the potential for a surprise is at an all-time high today. Then your eyes fall back on him. “Why do you look like that?”

“Like what?” He scratches the back of his head.

“Like this.” You do the awkward pose thing people do when they’re very clearly failing to act natural. How do you manage to make even the most awkward poses look cute? Maybe your little black dress has something to do with it. You weren’t wearing that earlier when you left for class.

“What do you mean? I’m just here, sitting on the couch with my phone.” Damn, is it really that obvious?

“Ah, so you were here waiting for me to get back from class like a dog?” you tease as you climb into his lap and set his phone aside. Your new perfume is a sensual lavender (no wonder you asked him about his favorite flower). And your dress is so short all he can feel is skin when he grabs hold of your ass. “Don’t worry, I missed you too.”

You snake your hands around the back of his neck and devour his lips, his tongue, his taste. He’ll never get over the moans you make just from kissing him like he’s the finest dessert you’ve ever tasted. Or the way your tongue just laps him up like a kitten—

“Wait,” he says after forcing himself to pull back from your lips. The urge to put his lips right back where they belong is incredible.

“No, Jungkook, I don’t have any homework that needs to get done before we…” Your words trail off as you kiss him some more and roll your hips against his crotch. You’ll never let it go that he’s “the biggest nerd in the world” for always making you finish your homework before sex. Thank god you don’t have any tonight. Because his hard cock is already past the point of no return.

The secret Valentine’s card still needs to be delivered, though. And the poor kitten is still waiting for her daddy to come find her.

“No seriously, wait a sec,” he chuckles, lifting you off of him before walking into his room to scoop up the kitten hiding behind the clothes hanging in his closet. When he rejoins you on the couch, he passes the fluffball to you.

“Ooh, did daddy give you a bath? You look so cute,” You sniff her orange fur and find the rolled-up note tied to her pink ribbon.

Your face quickly goes from curious to smiley as you unroll the note and read the silly message. Jungkook reads it right alongside you as if he wasn’t the one who wrote it.

“Congratulations, it seems Lucy has accepted you as her mother figure,” he says in the straightest face ever.

“Paw-esome?? Mommy??” you giggle, turning to the boy whilst cupping his chin. “Is that what you think of me?”

“It wasn’t me, it was Lucy,” he shrugs. “Right, Lucy?” She meows in agreement.

Then he pins you down against the couch cushions and leans in to whisper, “You’re my baby girl, remember?”

Your face is flushed with color as you nod up at him. You grab a handful of his t-shirt and pull him in. He finds your neck and leaves a trail of little marks as your body heats up beneath him.

“I love the card, by the way,” you manage to get out between breaths. “Thank you, Jungkook.”

“Like I said, it wasn’t from me.” His gives you a few more kisses while running his hands along your dress. As hot as you are in that dress, he’d love to get his hands on everything hiding beneath it. “I didn’t even know today was Valentine’s Day.”

“Liar. You suck, you know that.” You pout for half a second before your horny eyes are showing again. “Guess you don’t want to see the surprise I have for you.”

“What is it?” he asks a little too quickly. He must sound like such a simp.

You sit up, leaning your tits against his chest, and say, “Undress me.”

Jungkook lifts the dress up and over your head to reveal the same lingerie set he saw on your computer screen the other day. Except now it’s on your body. And boy does it look good on you. It doesn’t matter that he already had a sneak peek at it and plenty of time to mentally prepare himself for this. He still can’t take his eyes off of his baby girl looking all pretty in pink. And he forgets to speak.

“What do you think?” You drop to your knees on the carpet and situate yourself between his legs.

“Hot,” is all he can say before you unzip him and get your hands on his hard cock.

“Good.” You wet your lips with a sly tongue. Your hands start stroking his length up and down as you eye his tip. “It was an impulse buy the other day when I was feeling so horny for your cock.”

“Do you need my cock that badly?” he asks, his breath getting rougher. 

You nod, licking your lips again. He’d normally make you wait a little longer before letting you give head, but fuck it. It’s Valentine’s Day, and his cock is his gift to you. You’re always begging to suck it anyway.

With a firm hand, he angles your chin up until his erection is staring you in the face. You wrap your lips around him and take him in until he hits the back of your throat. Your cute little gag doesn’t stop you from going right back in, bobbing your head back and forth, up and down his length. He decides to help by thrusting in and out of your throat.

When you stop to catch your breath, his glaze runs down your mouth. You make sure he’s watching when you lick it up and swallow before sucking him more. One of your hands grips his cock while the other travels down into your thong. He watches the way you rub between your legs and rock your body back and forth to pleasure yourself and him at the same time. 

You savor each and every drop of him as if it’s the last. Your lips glisten and swell with pleasure as you’re hard at work with his cock. There’s no way anyone else can look this good while doing what you do to him.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans, fucking your face faster. You moan something that sounds like his name, although it’s kind of hard to understand with a fat cock in your mouth.

At his breaking point, he pulls out and strokes his length until (most of) his cum sprays right into your mouth. You swallow it up while shooting him an awfully innocent smile. After catching his breath, he wipes up the bit of lust on your cheek and lets you suck it off his fingers. You’re such a good girl for him.

“You were so good, baby,” he praises you. You definitely need to be rewarded. “Should we watch one of those romcoms?”

“I thought you said you didn’t like romcoms.” You tilt your head. “We can find something else that we can watch togeth—”

“Pick your favorite romcom.” He shakes your suggestion off and lays you down on the couch so that you’re facing the TV. He hooks a finger on the strap of your thong and tears it off. With his lips just a kiss away from your wet pussy, he says, “I won’t be watching anyway.”

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts college au #nerd jungkook

[f10werfae]

Sorry about being very nitty gritty but I have a couple of questions about lumberjack Henry and short shy reader.

Was reader a virgin ? Since in Sugar Sweet Tongue, she mentioned never getting a kiss before so was that her first kiss?

Also if she was, any chance of a plot idea of reader losing her virginity to Henry? I’m assuming it wasn’t on their wedding night since Henry and reader had done it in various places like during a picnic and their porch before they married.

Also last question I promise, Any chance the times Henry took reader before their wedding in the back of his truck, during a picnic, at the drive-in cinema and their front porch could be expanded on? This was mentioned on their wedding night.

No harm done! I absolutely love seeing you guys interested in my writing, so this ask genuinely brought a smile onto my face 😌

1. Yes Shy!reader was totally inexperienced before Henry, so her lumberjack!Husband/boyfriend was the one to introduce her to the filthy sexual lifestyle

2. If you guys would be interested in a fic about shy!reader losing her virginity the. I would be glad to write one :), I just didn’t know whether you guys would like to read that or not

3. Omg yes of course

Back of his truck- Was a common occurrence back when they were dating since she was kinda still too shy to go back to his place, so after a nice dinner at a rusty vintage diner, things got a little bit heated about a month into the relationship. Anytime shy!reader would complain of feeling “tingles” down there, he would absolutely baby her and promise to get rid of the tingles; by fucking her brains out in the back of his truck.

Drive-In Cinema- Shy!reader was dying to see the some romcom the local drive in was putting on, so who better than her big burly boyfriend to bring her! He’d pick her up after her shift at her grandparent’s sweet shop and drive straight to the drive in, finding a nice secluded parking spot near the back, but good enough that the screen was still fully visible. At the back of the parking spaces no one could see the car rocking as she rode his cock, trying to make it up to him because she was gushing over some hot actor on the screen. “I-I only love you, a-ah, I-I promise” She’d whimper hugging onto his body as he shushed her, “Shh sweets, m’ tryna watch the movie ‘ere”

Front Porch- Around a month and a half in once Y/n finally felt comfortable going to Henry’s lonely cabin, she instantly felt at home, running about in nothing but his shirt and a pair of flimsy underwear. So one day while Henry was away for work, she came over with the spare key in a cab, wanting nothing more than to cuddle into his soft sheets which smelled like his peppermint oils. When Henry arrives home he’s shocked to see his girl, half naked, waiting for him on the front porch; her figure calmly laying on the porch chair. “Fuck honey you really wanna be mine don’t ya?” He growled storming up the steps, watching as she giggled and pulled him over by his belt buckle desperately, his nose diving into the crook of her neck to smell, his own peppermint oils. The fact that his girlfriend was now using his stuff and claiming his house as hers? He was as hard as a brick and knew he had to take her right then and there

If you want anymore of this elaborated on please let me know :)

#lumberjack!henry cavill #fae henry thoughts #faesthoughts

[the-whispers-of-death]

10 Fun Facts About Stone

I wanted to talk about Stone and give a little more insight into his character, so ten fun facts about Stone. Ten facts about Kali will be in another post! Btw, while this is numbered, the order is by no means a measure of importance.

Stone gets henna done on his hands whenever he's home from deployments. Depending on when his plane lands, he either goes straight to his trusted henna artist or if there's no time, then he has her come over to his house to do it (because he rarely leaves the house when he's home, ofc the artist gets a hefty tip when she goes over to his house).

He doesn't read fiction, he solely reads non-fiction books. His house is full of either books on warfare or medical books. There are some books on astrology because he loves stars.

Not only would he be a cat dad if he was home more often, he'd also be a plant dad. He loves both cats and plants and if he ever retires, he's 100% getting cats and plants.

This me inserting myself into his character (but I mean, isn't that part of the point of OCs?), but he does not like ketchup. Hates it, in fact.

To elaborate on the hating the ketchup fact, Stone is autistic. He was undiagnosed for years until he was in his late twenties. The elaborating on the hating ketchup thing is that he hates ketchup because the smell of it makes him gag.

Stone hates horror movies. He doesn't watch much TV, this is a known fact about him, but he will watch something during recreational time on deployments if someone on his squad pesters him enough to watch a show or movie with them. Except horror/ thriller movies, he will not watch those.

As for what he would watch, he'd unironically get interested in a romcom movie. Someone puts on a romcom movie for shits and giggles and pulls him down onto the couch to watch it with them. While everyone's making fun of the movie, Stone shushes them because he's now invested in the plot.

Stone tries and fails to communicate via stares. He swears up and down that his eyes do the speaking for him, but no one can tell the difference. His eyes always look the same and then they just think he's mad at them because he's just full-on staring, practically glowering at them.

He once unintentionally walked into his neighbor's house when coming home from deployment one year. It had been three in the morning and he lives in a very safe/secluded neighborhood so everyone more or less leaves their front doors unlocked. Despite the fact that he himself locks his front door, he didn't think anything was wrong when he stumbled onto his neighbor's front porch and opened the unlocked door and went inside. He got all the way to the bedroom before realizing he was in the wrong house and thankfully it was the same neighbor who gets his groceries so he was used to Stone's antics.

While Stone is tech-averse, he does listen to music. How does he do that? With the help of his neighbor and Kali, he buys vinyl records. And his favorite music genre is Bollywood music.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)

#call of duty #cod mw2 #cod mwii #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod #task force 141 oc #call of duty oc #cod oc #cod oc fun facts #call of duty oc: stone #cod oc: stone #cod original character #call of duty original character #just some more things about Stone #i hadn't wanted to do a whole story thing for him #elaboration on any of these facts can happen #just ask if you're curious #he's just my little guy #:)

[mp100ficrec]

A Group of Teenagers Romcom Two Thirty Year Olds by JURKEL

Fic can be read HERE.

Romantic Comedy, Slice of Life, Fluff. Ongoing. Rated: G. Word Count: 5841

Pairings: Reigen Arataka/Serizawa Katsuya

Trigger Warnings: None

““Can't believe they would keep it from us, US of all people!” Tome threw her hands up in the air, exasperated. Teru laughed, getting a shush in return.

“Yeah shocker, the two most drama-driven people they know. We would spread that information like wild fire to the others, you know how I know that?” Teru prodded. Tome picked up what he was putting down, and pulled out her phone, a big, plotting smile curling up on her face.

. . .

Tome and Teru think they've figured out Reigen and Serizawa's big secret, being the two had a secret relationship. But after realizing that wasn't the case, they decided to set out to try and get them together. Or, at the very least, make them realize their very obvious feelings for each other. Of course, they drag the others along for the ride.”

#Mob Psycho 100 #mp100ficrecs #a group of teenagers romcom two thirty year olds #jurkel #serirei #romantic comedy #romance #reigen arataka/serizawa katsuya #comedy #Slice of Life #fluff #ongoing #rated: g #word count: 5 to 10k

[baeshijima]

YESYES WE WILL BE FREED FROM ALL THE SUFFERING SOON

AND WHOAA that's so cool omg it sounds so so exciting ! ! ! wahh prom seems fun but our school doesn't have one :") even for graduating batches—

right like i spent the day watching streams like it's so addicting ? ? ? ? just getting attached to like one streamer too.... ahahah totally not me

also it's been like a day and the situation is still messy ;; would like to step in but im tired enough from yesterday's argument and ill keep em muted for a bit longer

( - cecilia anon )

ps: romcom plot????

ngl im only going to prom just for the dressing up 👩‍🦯 and also the fact it’s the only prom i’ll experience but still BJNDKD does ur school at least celebrate for the graduation? bc we also get a graduation assembly the day after we finish for joke nominations 🧎‍♀️

pLS GETTING ATT HED TO A STREAMER I FELT THAT 😩 they’re a good source of comfort i wont lie ☹️

take care of urself cecilia nonnie ☹️ if ur too tired then keep them muted and don’t get involved unless the timing really calls for it !! prioritise ur comfort bc it’s mainly between them !!

#queen's response #general.cecilia #there is no romcom plot shush ;-; #one of them wanted me to add them to a gc i have with some moots so she could scream to them abt us two to them 👩‍🦯 #lumi sam and lore im looking at u

[boizandgurlzinthehouse]

𝐬𝐡𝐞 + 𝐢 = ♡

pairing: lexi x reader

plot: y/n is fezco's younger sister, with all the benefits and risks. she don't use that much drugs, and never keeps it with her since in school. y/n is pretty laid back, loves little things in life —and maybe lexi howard. but she don't have to know that. that's only y/n's secret, but can she keep it when destiny brings them closer to each other?

word count: 3.033k

warnings: mentions of drugs, vape, basic euphoria things, jules is so cute and an emotional support and a good friend (and i want it that way sorry), cute nicknames

(might make it a series, it depends on you uwu <3)

*plus, not me writing new stuff instead of finishing/making the requests i got*

✿ rue's narrating ✿

for everybody who were and outsider, y/n was pretty ordinary. waking up, waking up a little bit late, going into school everyday, going home and writing homework, watching anime and aesthetic romcom shows, helping with their brother's business with her own way... it was pretty ordinary, yeah. but what happened in y/n's house and heart, was totally unordinary, if you ask me.

y/n had a simple life, with goals and parties at weekend, sitting at the back of the class, liked to dream about better times. dreaming about going to los angeles, new york or one european contry, maybe england, france or austria, frogetting about the atmosphere of the school that sometimes choked her. too much homework, confronting with everybody who tried to sneak before her in the line at lunch, telling the idiots she didn't had weed at her —i mean, i tried too to ask, many times, but why would she lie? y/n didn't liked to lie, she found it absolutely exhausting and tiring. she liked to keep things simple.

she liked simple things too, like rain —rain at a sunny day, rain at night when the skies lights enough to sleep comfortably, rain that tapped the window loudly between two shitty talkshow episodes she watched with his brothers—, cute cats, videos about cute cats, tutorials about making those pretty resin rings to sell them and gain some more money from the rich gals of her school, cuddling up to her closest friends, kat or maddy at a sleepover, cuddling up to her brother, fez when she got her period —she liked her family. she loved her family, she loved fezco and ashtray.

and she loved another girl, but guess what? she never told us that. we had to find out in a really weird way.

✿

but for real? for you, being fezco's sister was a complete disaster.

not just because of they all knew who fezco was, but because they wanted the same from you. like, everytime when someone craved drugs or a joint between the third and fourth class, they went to get you. i wasn't so hard, since you dressed always in the same style: wearing checkered oversized pants, baggy denim jeans or fezco's old ones, topping it with comfy t-shirts or dyed sweaters, wearing platform sneakers even in winter made you uniwttingly iconic, but on the underrated side —which was comeletely, perfectly fine for you, because you didn't want to be famous in high school, or some queen bee, none of that. you just wanted to lay on the desk at the back of the class, mind your hacking business, since you didn't sell drugs —and fezco debarred you selling it when marie, your grandma got ill—, you were the master of the operating systems and other hacking program, many of the students asking help from you to correct their notes in the school's system, or handing them real money from crypto-bills. by some, this is how you got to know what kat's doing, she made you shush in front of everyone and made you swear that you won' gonna tell, even if your life is on the line —at this point, you snorted and shrugged you shoulder, looking at ashtray, your little brother from the corner of your eyes, he too thought that kat was mental-crazy about her secret life... but as long as she —and everyone else, too— payed the 50 dollar of the "handling charge", you didn't complain. anybody who came to you always feared that you gonna sell their secrets, but you weren't even interested about the sick kind of p*rn they watched or the strange, disgusting kinks to delete it from their searching history; you didn't care at all. from you, nobody gon' 'now nothin'.

but on the other hand as i told you, even though you always bragged to people from one after another that you don't sell drugs like your older brother did, didn't sell drugs and won't gonna sell drugs either in the future, your words only found deaf ears.

the proof for your words and experience was right on monday, after rue's and lexi's terrible class where rue had to tell in front of everyone what was "fun" and "super enjoyable" in the summer —to be honest, you were pretty glad you skipped the class in the school's bathroom, talking to bb while smoking on her e-cigarette before she went to buy some snack in the buffet; it was her who talked rather, you just listened to her while scolded yourself later, for not going to that class. of course, your cause for the class wasn't the hella interesting topic or standing in front of your asshole classmates, but—

—but lexi.

well, it wasn't that you liked her, or fancied her when she helped you, or watched as she twirled her locks around her finger while concentrating on a hard question, or fantasizing about how is it like to be between her legs in her girly room, your eyes rolling back in the back of your head while she tugs your hair, stroking your face as her legs tremble and closing around your head—

yeah, maybe you liked her. just a little, tiny bit.

but now, with rue in front of you, you felt that your week has begun.

"please, y/n, just a little bit, like a little bit fentanyl or something else please, i need it", she pleaded, but you couldn't do anything.

"rue, i swear you that i don't have any. i didn't have the week before this, i don't have this week drugs with me either, and guess what? i'm not gonn have next week too!" you tried to shrug off her before lexi would discover the situation the two of you stood in —you perfectly knew that lexi and rue were like, best friends, but some real shit had to come in as a cause when they parted. you were there when rue overdosed herself —only sitting on the couch of the bennett household's living room for ten minutes, you saw everything, heard everything, and felt everything. saw rue's compeletely lifeless body, leslie's worried, tearful eyes, hearing gia's agonizing wails, feeling the sorrow that bite your throat even when you ran home, slamming the door of your room, hiding under your blanket until two a.m. —but you had to tell fezco the whole thing, yet you didn't had the energy to see his face if the two of you drove to the hospital. it's just another story, and you didn't want to get tired right on monday.

"nevermind, i'm gonna use what i have already", rue responded, but y/n hold gently her sweater-covered elbow.

"i don't think you should take fentanyl this early" y/n muttered, her voice being gloomy because of the tiredness. she was up late yesterday night because of the upcoming episodes of blue period, one of the new favourite animes of her. everytime rue wanted to take drugs, she remembered that horrible ten minute at her house, at that day.

"how do you know that i use fenta-" the other girl tried to ask, but then she remembered that fez handed her when the dealer's two sibling watched walking dead at night. "i tell you again, y/n, nevermind. but tell fez that i want drugs again, so prepare for me some."

y/n opened her mouth, but just sat on beside the sink, wiping her nose into the hem of her half white-half pastel green sweater, waiting for the class to end, to hear the end of bb's story —if she ever comes back.

the door of the bathroom opened again, but it was not bb —it was lexi. y/n immediately wished that instead of taking her usual skincare routine, she slept in too late —at half three a.m, was it rather too early? nevermind, y/n sat there still, a little bit frightened because of rue, and because she didn't want to say anything dumb or miserable in front of her crush.

"hey y/n... where's rue?"

lexi's voice was silent, a little bit shaky —probably she was just worried about rue. y/n thought fast —should she betray rue? it wouldn't be a betray, everybody knew that rue did drugs, and not helping lexi was 1) being and asshole move 2) being an asshole move because who the crack don't help her crush in everything? besides, lexi's gonna find out in a half minute even without her, so y/n just pointed with her finger in the direction of the only locked toilet in front of them.

lexi and rue argued a little bit, rue looked at y/n with annoyance, but y/n didn't take it at herself —her friend flushed all her fentanyl down on the toilet, and it was... right? right, because doing drugs on this level was hard for even y/n. "you say all this, but what happens in three days, when you knock on my door asking me to piss in some tylenol bottle? what, you're gonna say the opposite? how we've known each other since pre-school and we're best friends? it's like you have a split personality disorder. sorry if i miss the old you."

rue went out without lexi's venting, y/n didn't know what to say or do —lexi looked so abandoned and exhausted, she just wanted to wrap her in her arms in her bed, but it was impossible.

"sorry that you had to see this." lexi spoke to her, going to the sink to wash her hands. y/n shook her head, playing with the beads on the strings on her white platform sneaker.

"it's my fault at one point, don't do that, lex. don't believe what her narcotic-junkie mind says, it's not the real rue."

"i know, but it's hard. seeing someone so low... especially because she was my best friend. she still is, she' still my friend, my best friend." lexi leaned on the pink sink beside her, and y/n's hands grew clammy at the closeness of her hand beside her leg. y/n grew a little bit angry at rue —she probably didn't know that there were people who wanted to be lexi's best friends, because being lexi's best friend probably meant the best thing in the world, and yet she took it for granted. and the things she said to lexi... y/n would slap herself a thousand times with a brick if she even dared to brag out that shit.

"i'm gonna talk to her."

"you don't need to, y/n. really."

y/n thought it otherwise, but she let it. if she gets home today, she's gonna tell fezco to cut the drugs from rue or raise the price just for her —it was dumb, but for real, rue needed to come clean.

"okay then... what class do you gonna have?" she asked as she slided further on the sink, preparing to get down.

"history, and you?"

"maths" y/n exhaled, preparing herself to the next class —not that she was bad in maths, but she didn't had the mood for the whole thing at all.

"good luck. and thank you, for the support and all" lexi touched y/n's leg to brush it —and that's when y/n pulled her leg away, not because she didn't like it. hell, she dreamed about this, but this was so sudden that she didn't know what to do. sliding out of lexi's touch, the other girl looked at her worrying, placing her hand into the other, bending down her head while looking at her through her eyelashes. the sight of it made y/n go crazy, and still, she felt like the worst admirer in the world. "sorry, y/n, i didn't wanted to— i mean, thank you, and i did this because—"

"it's fine, lexi, it's nothing just—" the two girl apologized to each other, speaking at the same time, and when y/n wanted to clarify that it's okay, i was just lame and i'm just too much into you, every girl in the school seemed to defile the bathroom, filling it with their laughter, listpick stains and pissing sounds. the whole scene was totally helpless.

"i have to go, lex. see you soon", y/n said and jumped down from the counter, sliding between two girls, not looking at lexi. reaching to the asile, she scratched her wrist and arm; bad habit of hers. whenever she felt uncomfortable or a total failure, she tried to lessen her embarassment with those scrapes —and now, she felt both at the same time.

at least she knows the secret hallways of the school, so she don't have to face lexi today —even it was a dumb move, y/n was much more anxious than anybody when it came to the ones she loved... and the ones she loved but they didn't know.

✿

"why isn't y/n here?" kat asked, while everybody sat at the table when it came to lunch break. at the table sat bb, rue, jules, maddy, cassie, lexi and kat herself, but one place missed —it was y/n's, even if she was a little bit and ousider from this clique, everybody at the table loved her.

"i dunno, maybe she's smoking outside with somebody" bb guessed, shrugging her shoulder.

"gosh, and she said she doesn't have drugs!" rue complained, but cassie leaned in closer.

"y/n never have drugs at herself, why would she have now?"

"yeah, it's pointless. maybe she's writing her homework or something, or taking a shit..." kat continued, fiddling her grapefruit.

"i need to find that bitch, i'm gonna need some molly to the carneval and fez didn't had when i got to him... i need to talk to her" while maddy talked, jules typed in her phone under the table, trying to reach the missing girl.

juljul

hun is everything fine? you aren't here where r u?

"who saw her last time?" kat suggested, rue looked at lexi unwillingly.

"us. i mean... it was lexi. "

"cool. lexi, do you know anthing about y/n?"

"no, but... she acted weird when i tried to compliment her."

"what do you mean compliment? in a toilet?" cassie's smile was dumb, but lexi didn't pay attention.

"she said she supports me, and she wanted to help me. but when i tried to brush her leg as a thank you, she just flinched away, kinda weird."

jules' phone pinged.

lovie

ye everything fine just preparing for next class

it wasn't y/n-type —sure, y/n was very prepared to every class, but it was like she knew things naturally. jules felt that something is not alright, but she didn't want to bug her with questions. rather in private, when they're working together on a project.

juljul

okay than bubs you gonna go come to history?

y/n began to type.

"did she text back to you?" cassie asked from her. "i sent her messages too but she didn't even watch them." jules almost lifted her eyebrows.

it was more strange now. but she won't gonna let down one of her best friends.

"no, it's just some tinder fuckboy. y/n is silent as fuck, gives me bad kind of chills." she lied.

lovie

always juljul see u next class

✿

y/n didn't say much to jules either, but the other was eager to know more. for her, y/n was always so mysterious yet so soft, but that's why she loved her —she was like a fluffy cloud, nevermind the rainy or sunny days either.

"girl, what the fuck did you do with lexi?"

"what do you mean?" the y/h/c girl muttered back, scribbling down what was on the board.

"like, you weren't there with us on lunch, and you were with lexi before it... which means that you two did something. tell me, y/n." she demanded jokingly, hugging y/n's arm.

"you figured it out well, sherlock" y/n answered, getting a boop on her nose from jules' pointer finger. "it's nothing, just some arguing with rue and she, i gave some advice, that's all."

"okayish... but you sure there's nothing more?" she asked, y/n nodding her head slowly, fiddling with her pen. she didn't look into jules' eye —she knew that there's omething else, she could feel it, but she could never say. another handicap of y/n's cloudness.

"i guess. just some unnecessary girly shit." jules giggled with her, than y/n stood up, asking the teacher to a permission to go to the toilet. as soon as she stepped out, jules got her phone out.

jules

y/n said nothing but i know there's something

maddy

bitch that's crazy y/n sweet but sometimes annoying as fuck bc of this

kat

let's sneak on her i mean, it can be dangerous as fuck if she doesn't tell us

maddy

that's right

jules

she ain't gonna be mad?

kat

even if she is, she gonna be glad that we helped her yeah, that was right. jules leaned on the desk, but at the same time she swept down y/n's notes. leaning down to collect it, she noticed something —something sketched down into the corner of the paper; a very simple outline of a heart that even a nine year old kid could draw; and four very revealing letters.

lexi

jules hid her gaping mouth behind her hand, holding the piece of paper like the bigger secret she got to know —basically, for y/n, it was the bigger secret of hers. she didn't know what to do; text maddy and cat? or cassie? or should she just leave it? how could she ask y/n about this?

she placed back the paper like nothing happened, but retracing the actions of the morning and what lexi said, it made all so clear —y/n was so i love her, so shy and so longing that even a simple touch was overwhelming. it was supercute, y/n and lexi belonged to each other.

y/n came back, jules muted her phone immediately —she couldn't see y/n the same from that moment. she saw her a thousand times vulnerable and softer, but stronger and insecure at the same time. a plan formed a shape in her mind, and the and the purpose was very simple.

first thing first —somehow she's gonna have to face y/n.

i hope you liked it <3 leave a comment, like or reblog if you want (seriously you motivate me with it)

sweet day folks <3

#lexi howard x reader #lexi howard x y/n #lexi x reader #lexi x you #lexi y y/n #euphoria icons #euphoria imagine #euphoria x y/n #euphoria x fem!reader #euphoria x you #euphoria x reader #fezco euphoria #lexi blurb #rue bennett #maddy perez #cassie howard #should i make this a series?

[movedtodykedvonte]

How does family movie night go? :D

Surprisingly less things get destroyed

Alcina Dimitrescu

Acts like she doesn’t want to be there but goes for the girls (they are all clingy and won’t let the other go most places alone)

Reacts to scenes in the movie as if they characters said that to her. Audible gasps and “I can’t believe they would do that”. Probably get more of a show watching her

Eats the snacks subconsciously because she’s so caught up in the film but is disgusted by herself after

Says she’s not watching it but if you speak over the movie she will shush you louder than you were talking

Would pick movies with atmosphere, probably a lot of dark ones that are hard to see and very dialogue heavy. Pretentious films.

Donna + Angie

Will get bored of the movie if she doesn’t find it interesting enough and will let Angie mess with the TV (changing the color, volume, turn it off) just for funsies

When she does get into a movie she’ll listen and rock silently but Angie actively cheers and claps at scenes

Likes to bring the other dolls and will set them up as if they are awake and watching the movie with everyone else

Only time she’s relaxed enough to like remove her veil and eat in front of others. Tries to feed the other dolls during the movie

Would pick easy to watch films and kid flicks. Maybe Coraline (if that’s not to on the nose). Likes bright and colorful films and comedy

Salvatore Moreau

We all know this man is a movie enthusiast. Probably has seen most films over the years and would be kinda snooty about it (it’s one of the few things he has over the lords)

Sits way too fuckin close to the screen, like please Moreau no one else can see Mama Mia.

Will not hesitate to explain the plot out of excitement but understands when the rest shush him or tell him no. Says things like “this is the best part” for like every scene

Too busy watching to get snacks as he doesn’t wanna look away and miss anything. (Ethan will set stuff aside for him so he’s not sad he didn’t get any Chex Mix)

Obviously picks romance movies but favors romcoms and gentle romance (he hates being sad). Probably super passive aggressive over the other lords movie choices (the one time he can be)

Karl Heisenberg

This guy is awful during movie nights and I can’t tell if it be on purpose or he’s just like that. Either way horrible movie partner

Only really cares about science fiction, comedy or horror schlock so if it’s anything else he’s really not watching and will talk over the other movie choices.

Snacks are gone, if he’s not there to watch a movie, he’s there to eat the Winters’ out of house and home.

When he is into a movie he tries to be nonchalantly but he’s literally on the edge of his seat smiling or giving the best expressions.

Again horror flicks, comedy with bad acting and classic syfy. Probably like grind house, Adam Sandler and Frankenstein. He wants the same movies every time.

Ethan Winters

The host so he is in control of the remote (last time one of the lords were in charge, it got snapped in half and barfed on)

Made a chart of who picks what to stop arguing. Works half the time. When it’s his turn he always picks Rose appropriate movies

Even more snacks. This time he threw in the sweet Chex mix and like Public juice boxes. Eats only the sweet Chex mix

Pauses the movie at the most inappropriate times and even Rose gets huffy over it. Will also pause the movie if fighting happens and makes everyone sit in silence

Personally he like documentaries and badly budgeted films. He likes to be informed or to take the piss outta poor productions

Mia Winters

Surprised the lords are peacefully sitting on her furniture instead of destroying it. There to get used to the lords but mostly for family time with Rose and Ethan.

Not really a TV or movie person so she doesn’t care what gets put on. If she picks, it’s probably something new or she just hasn’t seen

Is partial to a lot of the movies Alcina picks and some of Donna’s because they are Rose friendly. (Sometimes Moreau’s have xxx scenes and Karl likes gore movies)

Will walk in-front of the TV screen and have everyone yell at her to move. She doesn’t do it on purpose but does it too much

Falls asleep half way through most of the films and Ethan often carries her to the room with Rose.

Someone has been punched over the movie night choice (probably Karl who picked a vampire slayer movie)

#re8 #resident evil village #resident evil #resident evil 8 #karl heisenberg #donna beneviento #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #salvatore moreau #moreau #ethan winters #mia winters #resident evil headcanons #father ethan au #ask #okamiblaze

[omg-just-peachy]

three small words are so big when they’re for you

3.6k, stevetony, high school au, popular tony stark + smol steve

Tony is the most popular kid in school and he has a massive crush on smol, photography-loving Steve Rogers, who has no clue.

On AO3

***

“Steve! Hey,” Tony calls, almost breathlessly. He looks like an idiot, he’s sure of it, his hair's a mess and his backpack’s flopping off his shoulder and threatening to fall down his arm. He’d all but chased Steve Rogers across the courtyard and into the cafeteria, and for what, exactly? Just to say hi and moon at him because he was wearing the red shirt that makes his hair look extra blond and his blue eyes stand out? 

Tony can hear Rhodey laughing at him from across the school and mentally shushes him.

In front of him, Steve blinks in surprise before shooting him a crooked little smile. “Hi,” he says, pushing his glasses up his nose with a finger. God, the glasses. Tony is really and truly done for. He hefts his bag up onto his shoulder and looks at Steve some more. Say something, anything , he wills himself, but when he finally opens his mouth, Steve’s already talking. 

“Um, I’m supposed to go meet my friend Bucky? But it was, uh, good to talk to you, Tony,” Steve finishes, then hurries away through the throng of students and over to his friends. 

Tony groans, his disappointment mounting when he looks up to find not just Rhodey but Pepper, too, grinning at him from their usual table. He’d never hear the end of it now.

*

Steve wasn’t exactly  unpopular  at school. He was just kind of...quiet. He had his small group of friends, and he didn’t play sports or go to parties; he kept to himself.  His smallish, perfectly built, glasses-wearing self. 

Tony Stark, on the other hand, is probably the most well known kid in their class, possibly even the school, thanks to his famous last name, and yet he couldn’t get the attention of the one person he wanted it from most. It’s laughable, really, the plot of a teen romcom with a terrible soundtrack in the making. 

Which is why, when he bumps into Steve outside the school a week later, Tony is more than a little surprised.

“Hi,” Tony says, because when it comes to Steve, he’s good at this part, and this part only. 

“Tony, hey,” Steve says, his voice is soft but not entirely shy, and he smiles at Tony like he always does, because more than anything else, Steve Rogers is  nice . It makes Tony’s palms sweat.

“Waiting for someone?” Tony manages to say. He knows Steve usually goes home with Bucky and Natasha and Sam, all of them piling into Bucky’s car like an exclusive club Tony can only dream of worming his way into. 

“If the late bus counts as  someone ,” Steve replies, rolling his eyes. “Bucky left early today and my phone was off so I didn’t realize until after the newspaper meeting, so...” He shrugs his slim shoulders, looking at Tony and then down at his shoes, his long eyelashes skimming his cheek, and for once, Tony’s mouth does its job. 

“I can give you a ride home. If you want. I mean, unless you like the bus, then...” He’s babbling, but it’s better than silence, right?

Steve does this adorable blinking thing, like he’s sizing Tony up and weighing his options, and then nods. “If you don’t mind?”

“Of course not,” Tony insists. “You’ll just have to tell me where I’m going. I’m parked over there...” Tony points, and Steve follows him to his car, waiting as Tony unlocks it and throws their bags into the backseat. 

“So,” Tony says, once they’re out of the school parking lot and on the road. “You work on the newspaper?”

Steve runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah,” he says, “I mostly do the photography for it, but I’ve written some articles, too.”

“Oh,” Tony says, then, a beat later. “That’s really cool.” And it sounds almost sarcastic even to his own ears, but he really means it. Steve could tell him just about  anything  and he’d think it was cool. God, he’s the worst at this. 

Steve looks at him. Tony can feel his gaze from the passenger seat, like he’s trying to decide if Tony was making fun of him. He must decide that he isn’t because he continues talking. “Yeah, it’s fun. I only joined because Natasha wanted company at first, but... I really like it. Oh, um, make a right up there on Lakeshore.”

Tony turns. “I ended up on the football team for that reason, so I get it,” he says, smiling wryly. “Rhodey  just wanted to see  what it was all about. At least, that’s what he told me. Three years later and here we still are. I love it, though,” he adds. 

“You guys are having a good season,” Steve says, and Tony’s stomach flips. Had Steve been to any of the games? Seen him play? The idea would have been ludicrous up until a few minutes ago, but it would make sense for the photographer to go and take photos, if nothing else. Tony wills his brain to calm down, and makes a left when Steve tells him to. 

“We are. Knock on wood,” Tony says. 

They’re quiet for a few minutes, just the radio playing softly between them, and Steve telling Tony when to turn. It’s not an uncomfortable quiet, though, Tony realizes. It’s…  nice .

“This is me,” Steve points, all too soon, at a house on the right side of the street, small and unassuming but nice. “Thanks for giving me a ride. I really didn’t feel like waiting in the cold.” Steve gives Tony another one of his small half-smiles before hopping out of the car with a little wave.

“See you tomorrow,” Tony says, but Steve is already halfway up his driveway.

*

“He doesn’t know I exist,” Tony moans a few days later. He and Rhodey had just passed Steve in the hallway, and Steve had smiled and given him a wave, nudging his glasses up his nose like always, before disappearing into the crowd of students.

“He was in your car last week. He literally just said hi! What more do you want from him? To know by osmosis that you’ve been half in love with him since freshman year?” Rhodey asks, exasperated. 

“I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m just being nice. I mean I  am  being nice, but it’s more selfish than anything, because he’s so…  Steve. Rhodey, because he does that blinking thing? You know? Like he’s adorably confused and taking it all in, and… His eyes look so big with the glasses...” 

Rhodey shakes his head, laughing. “Believe it or not, I don’t spend the day cataloging the movements of Steve Rogers.”

 “You laugh,” Tony says testily. “But you and Pepper have been joined at the hip for two years now. Remember when you were in my shoes?”

“That’s different.”

Tony lifts an eyebrow. “Help me, Rhodeybear, my best friend in the world, light of my life.  Please .”

Rhodey sighs. “I have English with Barnes,” he says. 

Tony stomps a foot. “What! Why didn’t I know this!?”

Rhodey ignores him and continues. “Barnes is in my English class next period. I can try and talk to him, see if he knows anything about what Steve’s thinking.”

“I love you to the moon and back,” Tony says, throwing his arms around his friend. “I owe you one.”

“You owe me more than that,” Rhodey says, shaking him off. “Please, save it for Steve.”

“One can only hope!”

*

The next time Tony sees Steve, it’s right before a football game, and he very nearly crashes into him. Steve’s hair is windblown, and he has the school camera on a strap around his neck, ready and waiting for the perfect shot. He looks perfect in a Shield High t-shirt and dark jeans, complete with a cardigan to keep him warm against the cool fall afternoon. He cannot possibly  not know  how good he looks like this. 

“Oh,” Steve says, blinking up at Tony and smiling. “Hey, sorry about that.”

“My fault, I was on another planet,” Tony says.  Thinking about  you  ,  he doesn’t add. “Don’t be sorry.” His heart is racing though, between the high stakes of the game, and his new found knowledge that Steve thinks Tony is, for the most part, just  humoring him  with his attempts at friendship. In the end, Rhodey’s conversation with Bucky Barnes had made Tony feel about ten times worse about his prospects of ever being more than just casual friends with Steve. 

Steve shuffles his feet. “Um,” he says, “I should probably get out there...” he gestures to his camera and then at the field. “And you, too, right?”

Tony nods vigorously. “Right. Yes. Football and newspapers. Try and get my good side, okay?” he jokes, winking before he can stop himself.  Winking , god.

Steve laughs, though, a beautiful, musical sound if Tony’s ever heard one, and promises to do his best. 

*

They go on this way, Tony doing his best to be smooth and show Steve he isn’t just  humoring him  by any means, and always coming up short. He does more babbling around Steve Rogers than he’s ever done in his life, even with his friends, even when he gets to talking about football plays, or robotics labs, or dark matter. 

It’s a disaster.

By the time Thanksgiving week rolls around, Tony’s exhausted. The football season is coming to an end, but college application season is in full swing, and he really,  really  doesn't want to think about that right now. All Tony wants to do is go home and work on his latest project, a small robot he’s programmed to clean up around his room. The little guy apparently hates socks though, because he always leaves them on the floor, even when everything else is spotless. Tony’s lost in thought about possible bug fixes when 

he finds himself face to face with Steve on his way out the door at the end of the day.

Impossibly, Steve looks more rundown than Tony feels. 

Steve makes a valiant effort to look pleased to see him, but Tony can tell something’s just…  off  about him. He’s pale, more pale than usual, even, his perfect Irish complexion drawn and tired looking, and his eyes are shadowed and red-rimmed, going perfectly with the pink of his nose. 

Tony’s heart gives an actual  pang  looking at him. “Oh, hi, Steve. You look um…”

Steve’s eyes roll so hard it’s actually impressive. “I know,” he snaps. Then he sighs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” he apologizes almost immediately and his voice is huskier than usual, like it’s an effort to speak, and Tony shrugs. 

“Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean it like… I mean. You always look  good ? But you just look less...like yourself. I mean, you just… you look tired,” Tony finishes, his face warming. 

Steve gives a wan smile. “I think there was something nice in there,” he says, rubbing at his face. 

“There definitely was,” Tony promises. “Do you...need a ride or something? I can drive you home, it’s no problem.”

Steve’s relief is palpable. “That would be great, actually,” he says. 

“Great, yeah, absolutely. I’m over here again. I think I remember the way to your house but let me know if I lead us astray,” Tony says with a smile. 

Steve’s quiet on the drive home, though, his eyes almost drooping shut a few times once the heat kicks in, and it’s all Tony can do not to stare at him. Even like this, pale and knocked out by whatever season cold plagued high school this time of year, Steve looks....pretty much perfect. 

By the time Tony parks his car outside Steve’s house, he’s just about asleep in the passenger seat, his glasses sliding precariously down his nose. Tony lays a careful hand on his shoulder. “Hey, Steve… we’re here,” he says quietly. The last thing he wants is to scare him, or worse, embarrass him. 

Steve blinks his eyes open, rubbing at his face in confusion before looking apologetically at Tony. “I’m sorry,” he says immediately. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep like that. God, it’s like a ten minute drive,” he says, shaking his head. “I guess I was more tired than I thought,” he says quietly. He sounds vaguely congested, his voice low and thick and tired enough that Tony wonders how he ended up here, wanting to do grown up things like make soup and offer to run to the pharmacy, just because it’s Steve.

It’s unfair, really, how sweet and vulnerable he looks sitting there like that. Tony’s overwhelmed with the urge to hug him, walk him to his door… something. Instead though, he squeezes Steve’s shoulder lightly before letting go. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Tony says. “I could use a nap myself,” he adds, anything to make Steve relax. 

Steve nods. “Thanks again.”

“Of course. I hope you feel better,” Tony tells him, sincerely. “No one should be sick for Thanksgiving.”

“It’s true, but this happens every year,” Steve admits. “Anyway, it’s not so bad. My mom makes a ton of food, and it’s usually just us and my grandparents and occasionally Bucky and his mom, so,” he trails off, looking over at his house and smiling a little, softly. 

“Sounds nice,” Tony tells him, honestly. Far nicer than his own jam-packed holidays, which are more for appearances than anything else. 

“Are you doing anything for Thanksgiving?” 

Tony hesitates. “Family stuff, lots of questions about the future,” he rolls his eyes. “It’s a whole ordeal honestly.” 

Steve winces. “Yikes.”

Tony smiles. “Exactly.”

By the time Steve grabs his backpack and phone and thanks Tony for the millionth time for driving him home, it feels like something might have shifted between them. At least, it feels that way to Tony, like Steve might  actually  consider him a friend now. 

A guy could dream. 

*

By the time they go back to school the following Monday, Tony is mostly recovered from the grand inquisition that occurred over Thanksgiving break, and Steve, from the looks of it, has recovered from his cold. When Tony passes him by his locker early Monday morning, he can’t help but flash him a wide smile. 

“You’re looking better,” Tony says before he can think twice. His smile only grows when Steve rolls his eyes and brushes their shoulder together as he closes his locker. 

“Yeah, much, thanks for noticing,” Steve says, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. 

“I always notice you,” Tony says, and it’s far too earnest for this hour of the morning, but Steve doesn’t seem to mind. Instead, his face turns a little pink, and he falls into step with Tony like it’s something they do every day, walking each other to class. Tony’s so taken aback by this that he almost walks right by his first period class. Fury would  love  that, but Tony doesn’t have the patience for Principal Coulson’s office today, so he stops, reluctantly. 

“This is me,” Tony says, jerking his head towards the door. “Maybe I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, nudging his glasses up, “talk to you later.” And just like that, with that stupid half smile, Steve sets off down the hallway. 

“Mr. Stark,” Mr. Fury says behind him, making him jump a foot. “Are you going to stand here smiling into the ether, or will you be joining us today?”

Tony blinks himself back to reality and joins them. 

Tony finds himself driving Steve home most afternoons now. And though he wonders what happened to Steve driving with Bucky and Sam, he’s not curious enough to bring it up and ruin whatever this new dynamic is. Not now, when Steve meets Tony at his locker, and is starting to get to know Rhodey and Pepper, even if he is on the quieter side when they’re all together. Now when he has Steve beside him in the passenger seat, plugging in his phone while they drive, sharing his favorite songs with Tony and asking what he likes in return, a give and take Tony looks forward to all day. 

It’s Rhodey who points out the change in Steve, says it  out loud  and puts it into the universe so that Tony has to acknowledge it.

“He likes you,” Rhodey says with confidence. “I’m telling you, this is his way of making a move.”

Making a move? Steve?  Tony hadn’t wanted to think about it, didn’t want to jinx whatever was going on between them, if he’s being honest with himself, but Steve  had  been different ever since Thanksgiving. He’d come back after break still on the quiet side, but more… chatty, almost flirty with Tony in a way that made Tony feel as if a swarm of bees had taken up residence inside him. 

“No way,” Tony says, even though deep down he wants to believe him. 

“Come  on , you’re not this oblivious,” Rhodey sighs. “You’ve been into him for months, and now he’s showing interest, what’s the problem?”

And it’s not a problem, not exactly, it’s just that Steve Rogers is unlike anyone else in Tony’s life. Kind and funny and  gorgeous  and he managed to make Tony feel more like himself than almost any of his friends, aside from Rhodey, of course. As much as Tony had flirted and pined and thought about Steve, now that there was the minute possibility of returned interest… he’s  scared . 

“Not a problem,” Tony says. “It’s good. Peachy.” And it was. Or, it would be, as soon as Tony came up with a plan. 

*

Shield High has a winter formal every year, a kind of send off for the year right before winter break. Tony usually goes because his friends go, but he’d never actually  asked  anyone to go. But it’s coming up in two weeks, and he’s decided it’s the perfect chance to finally really show Steve how he feels. He’ll ask him to the formal and if he says yes, well then, Tony will know he feels the same way, and if he says  no , then… Tony hasn’t really thought about that possibility, because it usually ended in an anxiety spiral that he didn’t have time for. 

Steve would say yes, right?  Right?

“Yes  , Tony, god, stop asking me!” Rhodey says, meaning Tony had been thinking out loud  again . 

“Sorry, sorry, I just hope—”

“Hope I’ll be on time after class?” Steve asks, appearing at Tony’s side. The day’s over, and Steve is smiling at Tony from beside his locker door, and Rhodey smirks, walking backwards away from them. 

“Yep!” He calls, “Exactly that, Rogers!” 

“Ignore him, he’s the worst,” Tony huffs, grabbing his jacket. “Ready?” He looks at Steve’s adorably confused face, the winkle between that he gets between his eyebrows appearing, and Tony is, as ever, tempted to touch a finger to it and brush it away. 

“So,” Steve says, sliding into the car beside Tony. “What was Rhodey talking about earlier? It looked like you guys were fighting or something.”

Tony hadn’t started the car yet, and now he wishes he had. It’s too quiet, with the reality of what he’s about to do hanging between them. His stomach gives a flip. Now’s as good a time as any, right? He looks at Steve, and his blue eyes, and his blond hair flopping over his forehead, and…

“Not fighting, exactly,” Tony starts, sucking in a breath. “I just… I was wondering. I mean, I know you didn’t necessarily trust me for a while there? But I think we’ve gotten past that? It seems like it anyway, since here you are, in my car after school. Anyway. Rhodey thinks I should ask you to winter formal and I kind of agree with him and I’m actually terrified you’ll say no since you’re so much—”

Tony would have kept going, talking himself into a circle while Steve smiled and looked at him and pushed his glasses up his nose, but instead, Steve Rogers had leaned over and cut him off with a kiss. Stolen the words right from his mouth and made the move Tony had been too nervous to make for months. 

Steve Rogers.

He’s smiling into the kiss, though it takes Tony some time to realize it, he’s so distracted by how unfairly  soft  Steve’s mouth is, how his hand is drifting up and up into Tony’s hair, threading through the strands and pulling him in like he just can’t get close enough. 

Tony’s pretty sure he’ll  never  be close enough to Steve. 

He can’t say who pulls away first. Part of Tony thinks it might have been him, because he really cannot keep his mouth shut in the presence of this perfect guy, apparently. He stares at Steve, disbelieving, until Steve smiles at him, and Tony’s heart flips. 

“Yes,” Steve says simply. Like it’s  easy . “And I didn’t not trust you, by the way. I just… had to be sure you weren’t just… I don’t know. Being nice because I’m the small kid no one picks in gym or something. They pick me sometimes, for what it’s worth. I’m fast and small, so.” He smirks, and it’s the most perfect thing Tony’s ever seen, probably. 

“Well  I  pick you for whatever  that’s  worth,” Tony manages to say. “God, the number of times I basically chased you across the courtyard just to say  hi…”  He trails off, smiling like he might never stop. 

“I did notice that.” Steve looks ridiculously pleased by the information, Tony can’t help but notice. His cheeks heat.

“What else did you notice?” 

“Lots of things,” Steve says, “That’s what I do, you know, the whole photography thing. I notice things.” His voice is teasing now, and Tony wants to know everything Steve’s noticed, every detail about these last few months getting to know each other, becoming friends. 

“Like?” 

But Steve’s looking at Tony’s lips, and giving him that ridiculous little smile, so when he just shakes his head and pulls Tony back in for another kiss, well, Tony can wait to find out. 

#stevetony #stony #super husbands #steve/tony #high school au #fluff #my fic

[sparrellow]

What the Heart Wants

“Don’t break my heart again, Rin Kagamine.”

— childhood friends, and the art of growing up.

rating: T genre: romance/hurt/comfort/angst ships: rin/len, a sprinkle of miku/kaito words:  3,357

Rin was not much of a party-goer. She preferred the comfort of the couch and TV in her living room, watching sad love stories and stuffing her face with Happy Turn rice crackers. At least there, she could hear her own thoughts.

But Miku was having a party. A special party. A reunion party, of sorts. And as much as she didn’t want to go, she felt obliged to for the sake of their friendship.

So there she was, standing in the corner of the room, hiding behind a glass of lemon chu-hai. It was busy, full of familiar faces she didn’t want to see. She hadn’t even really thought much about what kind of situation she’d landed herself in until a certain blonde boy—man, he’s a man, Rin—came striding into the room like a celebrity guest-appearance on a TV show.

His smile was dazzling, and enough to turn her world upside-down.

Immediately she made a mad dash for Miku, who was standing on the other side of the room, making small talk with some of her guests. Rin ducked behind her like a shield, praying she hadn’t just caught You Know Who’s attention.

“Rin, what are you doing?” Miku asked with a frown, glancing over her shoulder at her.

Rin shushed her. “I’m hiding,” she said.

“Hiding from who?”

“Him.” She hoped she wouldn’t have to drop anymore hints to give away who she was talking about.

Miku gave her a clueless look, before scanning the room. Her gaze fell on Him, the man, and her eyebrows shot up. “Seriously?” she asked, rolling her eyes. “You’re still not over Len?”

Rin puffed out her cheeks. “It’s not that, I’m—”

“Rin,” Miku said, turning to face her. She grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her lightly. “You know, maybe it’s time you adult up and take initiative. You can’t run away from him forever. And I’m not going to be your bodyguard at my party.” Her tone was firm, unsaid words heard between the lines: And that’s final.

With that, Miku whipped around and strolled off to greet said person.

Rin ducked back behind a pot plant nearby, her heart racing. Easier said than done, she thought with a frown. It was maybe childish of her, in retrospect—but she hadn’t grown up still, even after all these years.

They were childhood friends, after all, and that part of her life was filled with fond memories of him; the kind that spread through her chest with a warm, bubbling sensation. But childhood was long gone, and they’d long grown apart, and Len had changed in more ways than one.

He wasn’t that scrawny little kid anymore.

Rin stared down into her glass, watching as bubbles rose from the bottom, one by one.

It wasn’t always all sunshine and roses. When they’d grown up enough, enough for her to finally realise that oh no, I might kind of like him , that was when their relationship slowly began to change. Like the Earth orbiting the Sun—they were stuck in a gravitational pull, sometimes close, sometimes far, going around in circles. He fell in love with another girl, and that was when she thought:

I can’t do this. I can’t do this anymore.

How it’d hurt her to cut him off and build a wall between them, how it’d tore her apart—how it’d tore him apart. There was this knot of guilt in the pit of her stomach. A knot of guilt as he had grabbed her hand one afternoon and asked, Why? Why have you been so distant?

Rin had never given him an answer.

They hadn’t talked since. It’d been at least five years.

The glass almost went flying from her hand as someone touched her elbow, shaking her from her thoughts. It was Kaito.

Her shoulders sagged with relief.

“Sorry—sorry,” he apologised, noticing he’d startled her. That didn’t stop him from giving her a look of concern. “What are you doing behind the pot plant, Rin?”

Rin’s cheeks burned. “Hiding,” she mumbled.

Kaito quirked an eyebrow. “Why?”

Not giving an answer, she simply led his gaze to Miku and Len chatting idly in the centre of the room. 

“Oh.” His lips thinned, eyebrows furrowing, creating a crease in his forehead. “You… still haven’t made amends?”

Rin’s thumb drew patterns in the condensation of her cup. Her eyes were glued to the floor. “No.”

Kaito was a lot more understanding than Miku. Forgiving, somewhat. He was like an older brother, but the nice kind, the kind that you would go to for advice. His gentleness was his whole appeal.

“Maybe you should,” he suggested, his lips curving in somewhat of a hopeful smile. “You know, it’s been a while, Rin. He might… I’m sure he would like to talk to you.”

“I can’t,” she whispered. 

He stared at her, waiting for her to continue. Waiting for her to explain why she couldn’t do seemingly the simplest thing in the world.

She kept talking. “I just can’t. It’s so hard. How could I just walk up to him and talk to him like nothing ever happened—it left a hole in me. Maybe it left a hole in him, too.”

Kaito looked back at Len, across the room, chuckling at something Miku said. He frowned in thought. “You don’t have to do that,” he said, reaching up to pat her on the head. “You don’t have to do anything, really. But you shouldn’t hide behind the pot plant all night. Because then nothing will happen at all.”

He pulled his hand away and strolled off, the cold air hitting the top of Rin’s head like a slap to the face.

Slowly, slowly, she took his advice.

.

When Len had spotted her on the couch later that evening, he sauntered over with a guarded expression. 

Rin had been staring blankly at the TV screen, considering calling it a night at 9pm, when she sensed his gaze and tore her eyes away to meet his. A chill ran up her spine, and in an attempt not to flee the situation, she downed her entire drink in one go.

She figured she didn’t trust her sober self as much to handle the interaction.

He took a seat near her—leaving enough space for another body to sit in between them, had someone want to—and leant back in the chair, folding one leg up to rest on his thigh. Her hand shook as she put the glass down on the table, and it clattered against the lacquered wood before letting it go.

A silence that was enough to drive any person towards insanity stretched between them. Rin knew he was probably finding the words he wanted to say—calculated, well-rehearsed—he was that kind of person. He never said anything without thinking about it first; especially not in this kind of situation.

Her eyes bore holes into her kneecaps as she waited, and waited, and waited.

Eventually, Len cleared his throat. She almost jumped out of her skin. “So,” he said. “You won’t even say hi to me, Rin?”

Blood pooled to her cheeks as her heart jumped to life in her chest. She wasn’t sure if she was embarrassed or guilt-ridden or terrified, or maybe all at once. Her tongue darted over her lips; they were dry, she felt parched despite downing that whole glass. The music that had been playing in the background the whole time suddenly seemed awfully loud.

“I…” Rin squeaked down at her knees. The words were getting stuck in her throat, choking her up, and she had a sudden urge to hurl over the side of the couch. Placing a hand to her mouth, she swallowed, closed her eyes, and reminded herself to breathe. 

His gaze left the side of her face to travel across the room, but he kept talking. “I know you saw me.”

Her fingers curled around the fabric of her dress with a tremble. Tonight, she’d tried for something a little more ambitious, a little more mature; the dress was short and flowy, yellow and floral-lace, it sat high at the base of her neck but dipped down her back, exposing smooth, white skin. 

But around Len, she simply felt like a little girl dressed up in her mother’s clothes.

“I… was waiting for you to say something first,” she rasped out, the words finally untangling from her tongue.

Len’s eyes went back to her. His mouth opened, closed, opened again—the gears were turning in his mind, typing out a script on a typewriter, perfecting every sentence. Finally, he settled for a, “Huh.”

Rin slowly lifted her gaze to meet his. His eyes were a dark, stormy blue; they always had been. Mischievous, mysterious, there was always this glint to them, something so familiarly Len. His fingers drummed against the backrest of the couch, playing out some secret melody—perhaps it was a song he played on piano. He liked piano.

Len swept a stray hair away from his face. “It’s been a while since we last talked, Rin,” he said, eyes flickering between her face and the rest of the room. He reached for his drink on the coffee table in front of them and took a sip, before continuing, “Missed ya.”

Heat climbed to her face, and she looked at her own empty glass on the table, willing for it to fill up. “Yeah,” she breathed, unsure if she’d just heard him right.

“Has life been treating you well?” he asked, casual, but she could tell in his mind he was trying to plot a path to lead the conversation somewhere she didn’t want it to go.

Rin traced out the patterns on her sleeve with a finger; following the stem, a leaf, the flower petals… counting them, five… six… “It’s…” Her mouth was as dry as a wall. She swallowed. “It’s… yeah. Good, I guess.”

If Len had noticed how nervous she was, he wasn’t letting on. “That’s nice.”

The silence that followed reminded her of her table manners. “Erm, how—how about you?”

His lips curved, the beginnings of a smile, and his eyes were now focussed on the TV screen. Some romcom was playing. Not that it really mattered—the volume was muted. “It’s been okay. Work is okay. Busy. Could be paid more, but I guess I’ll never really make big money as a composer, hey?”

That reminded her. She didn’t really know what he went on to study in university. Music, huh, she thought. It was a surprise that even his parents had let him go into such a field. 

“I do tutoring on the side, with kids, too,” he added, a wistfulness to his gaze. “It’s a bit of extra pocket money, at least.”

Rin eased back into the couch. “I’m happy to hear you’re… doing something you love.”

“Hmm.” His lips thinned out. “What about you? Go on to be an English major?”

Probably that was what she had told him, the last time they’d talked. They were still in high school. Young. Full of hope. She shook her head, hair bouncing with the movements. “No. I’m just… an office worker. I work for the advertising department of a record label.”

Len raised an eyebrow. “It’s a pity,” he said. “I thought you would be a good teacher.”

She laughed in an exhale. The thought seemed absurd now. She didn’t need to tell him that, though.

“So.” He was staring up at the ceiling now. His fingers were still drumming. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down in his throat. Rin could just about predict what was coming next. “So… why did you stop talking to me all those years ago, Rin?”

She could predict it, but she still didn’t know how she would even answer it. That guilty rock returned; sinking down heavy inside of her, weighing her down. The blood in her ears was loud, rushing, almost drowning out the sound of the party around them. 

Somewhere, somehow, her mouth started moving, words spilling out like a pot that’d overboiled. “It’s not that I… it wasn’t… I didn’t mean to…” She took a breath, trying to steady the pounding of her heart. “It’s just… so hard to say.”

Len frowned, not satisfied with her answer. “It’s hard to say,” he echoed, in a tone that showed he didn’t believe in those words as much as he didn’t believe in ghosts. “What, you can’t even tell me what I did to piss you off so bad that you wouldn’t talk to me anymore?”

His question sliced through her like a knife, and she winced. Her arms went to wrap around herself, she curled in, like a turtle retreating into its shell. “It’s not even… that,” she mumbled down to her knees. She felt so pathetic. “You didn’t do anything. It was just… me.”

He blinked at her, not quite comprehending that maybe—possibly—after all these years, after all these years of conjuring up some explanation in his head as to why she suddenly hated him, maybe it wasn’t because he had done anything wrong. “Huh,” he said, and this time, it wasn’t a calculated response.

“I’m just…” Rin hovered, choosing her next words carefully. She smiled at her empty glass on the table, but it was secretly a grimace. “I was just a scared, little girl. Scared of a broken heart.” And I still am.

Len was silent, processing her words. She needed another drink if this conversation was going to carry on. She reached for her glass and stood, not looking at his face. “I’m going to the bar. You want anything?”

He shook his head. She left him sitting. She did everything within her power, this time, to not run away.

When she returned to take a seat with another glass of chu-hai, Len’s hand lashed out, snapping up her wrist in a firm, yet gentle grasp. He pulled her down beside him, closer, maybe a little too close for comfort.

He smelt of cologne and alcohol and aftershave, and something familiar, something that made her only think, Len.

His warm body pressed against hers; she forced herself to sit on the edge of the couch, rather than relax into the empty space right next to him. His expression was unreadable, she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He dragged a thumb down the back of her arm, pressing flat in the soft space of her elbow.

No amount of willpower could stop the ripple of goosebumps from breaking out over her skin.

“Rin,” he murmured. “If you were scared of a broken heart, then why did you break mine?”

His question hit her like an avalanche. She sat, facing away from him, her hand still clutching at her drink like a lifeline. What do you mean, what do you mean, she wanted to ask, but even she knew that was a foolish question. She knew what he meant.

Rin placed her drink down on the table next to his, looked back over her shoulder at him. He was slouched back, staring up at her from under dark lashes. A sad smile slowly rose to his lips, dumping a bucket of ice-water over her shoulders.

“Because I was selfish,” she answered him with truth, sounding awfully confident despite the doubt that clouded her mind. Her heart thudded against her rib cage. “I was selfish, only thinking of me, and not you.”

Len sat up, shoulder brushing hers. “You just didn’t think to talk to me about it?” he asked. “Didn’t think to ever reach out and—clear the air, or anything.” His hand fluttered out in front of him, demonstrating the act.

Her heart hurt. Her whole chest hurt, actually. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, looking away. “I’m sorry.”

Hot tears stung her eyes. She didn’t even understand why she had to cry. She was the fool, here. She had no reason to.

Len’s hand reached for hers—it was large, warm and clammy, wrapped around her own like a blanket. “Rin,” he said, his hot breath hitting the skin of her bare shoulders. “Look at me.”

She shook her head, no. It was embarrassing, shameless, ridiculous. She wanted to crawl into a hole and die. 

His hand went to her thigh as he moved further forward. Before she could even comprehend a single thing he was doing, she felt his lips brush her cheek.

Rin turned to look at him, shocked.

Len hovered near her face, lips twitching upwards. “Don’t break my heart again, Rin Kagamine.”

In one, swift movement, he had her pushed back against the couch; one hand caressing her face, the other resting on her waist. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t fight back. She knew what she wanted. She knew what he wanted.

His lips grazed hers, and the contact almost seared her skin. As he went to pull away, she reached out and pulled him back by the collar, faces colliding. I won’t let you go this time.

Her arms wrapped around his shoulders. They’d grown broader, stronger, with all the time that had passed. A lonely ache filled her chest. With all the time that had passed she spent running away—she could’ve just… been honest?

If she had confessed her feelings to him all those years ago, before drifting apart, would it have changed anything?

Yes, she thought. I still needed to grow.

I still needed to grow up.

Across the room, a weary Miku and proud Kaito watched the pair as they did the tongue tango. Miku reached up to link her arm with her blue-haired companion, the remnants of a smile on her lips.

He leant into her. “This wasn’t really on the agenda, was it?” he asked in a low voice.

“No,” she admitted. “But I’ll gladly take credit for it.”

“You know, he was hanging out for her all these years—and despite knowing that, I’m still surprised.”

Miku chuckled. “I expected a make up. But a make out? No.”

Kaito grinned, shifting his gaze to the girl beside him. She was glowing still, always glowing, and he was sure it wasn’t the highlighter she used. “You think we could, uh, maybe follow suit?”

Her hand skated down his arm, before floating up to pinch his cheek somewhat affectionately. The lights in her eyes danced, laughing. “Get a few more drinks in me, sweetie, before you start dropping the pick-up lines.”

Then she strutted off, and he sighed, defeated.

The heart wants what it wants.

 .

Fin

.

(epilogue):

They’d sat on that couch kissing for hours until Miku kicked them out at ten to midnight, telling them to go home with a triumphant expression.

Now they walked down the street toward the station, hand-in-hand, not entirely drunk but enough on the way there that the humid midsummer night didn’t bother them. Rin pressed her cheek against his shoulder; a while ago, maybe it would’ve been the other way around.

“I was a bit of a jerk, admittedly,” Len said.

She lifted her head to scan the side of his face. He stared ahead. She wondered what he was going on about.

“Leading you on, and then dating other girls.” He glanced down at her. “I couldn’t be mad at you, not entirely, for distancing yourself.”

Rin stared at him a moment longer, before lowering her gaze to the curb. “I hated doing it,” she mumbled into his sleeve. “But I told myself at the time it was the best thing to do.”

Len smiled. “We were both kids,” he said, slowing his pace. They stopped near the entrance to the subway station, as if there were a barrier keeping them from going any further. “We didn’t know what we were doing.”

“Mm-hmm.”

He leant down to steal another kiss from her lips; soft, longing. His eyes were filled with something odd, she hadn’t really seen before. Affection?

“My place?” he murmured against her mouth.

“Yeah,” she breathed. Her heart fluttered with child-like excitement.

They kept going, eager to make up for the time they'd lost.

#fanfiction #vocaloid #vocaloid fanfiction #rinlen #lenrin #rinxlen #lenxrin #mikuxkaito #kaitoxmiku #kaitomiku #mikukaito #kaimiku #kagamine rin #kagamine len #kaito #hatsune miku #oneshot #romance #angst #hurt/comfort

[goosebytrade]

Moomins Movie Night

Around a month ago, @thegoldensoundstwice and I were joking around about a Moomins Movie Night AU and she asked me to share what we came up with. This is set when they are in their late teens/early twenties. Moomintroll and Snufkin are dating, Moomintroll and Snorkmaiden are amicable friends who get along so much better now they’ve broken up, and the one thing all five of the kids have in common is that they have found family at Moominhouse.

Once a week, the five main kids who stay at/near Moominhouse (Moomintroll, Snufkin, Little My, Snorkmaiden, and Sniff) get together and watch a movie. This is a bit of An Event for them, and it comes with its own rituals and expectations. The Moominparents aren’t really invited (though Mamma will pop in with snacks) and the kids take turns picking the movies.

There is a lot of banter during these films (to Moomintroll’s dismay) and overall the event is pretty chill. Even when a member of the group doesn’t like the movie they still tend to have fun, either because they mock the film throughout or engage in some healthy debate. They’ve ended up with a lot of inside jokes based on Movie Night Incidents.

Little My is no longer allowed to pick the movie. She tended to make her choices based on shock value rather than actual appeal, and everyone unanimously agrees there have been too many incidents for her to have a fiftieth chance any time soon. Little My can get quite loud during movie nights. She cackles whenever a character gets hurt or experiences distress. She gags during cishet romances and rolls her eyes during queer ones (Snufkin once politely told her he considered it rude for people to gag during most queer romances and she tries to accommodate that for him). She gets really into things and is known to punch the air and wriggle about. She is especially good at predicting jump scares and likes to shout in Sniff’s ear during them.

Sniff tends to choose fairly simple, low brow stuff. Buddy Cop films, movies about counting cards in Vegas, anything starring someone who was on SNL in the 1990’s. These tend to be Snufkin’s least favorite nights, and he tends to complain through them. As for Sniff, he tends to get very confused during movies. “Is that the guy from the beginning?” “Wait, where did that come from?” “Why is everyone laughing, I don’t get it?” are very common questions. Moomintroll is most likely to answer Sniff’s many questions, as Snufkin and Snorkmaiden are rarely paying Sniff any attention and Little My tends to fib and confuse Sniff even more. 

Snorkmaiden tends to choose things like romcoms, fairy tale adaptations, popular musicals, glamorously pretentious foreign films, and classic Disney movies. She’s really very observant and can usually pick up on plot twists long before they happen. She enjoys sighing dramatically at the appropriate moments and reveling in the spectacle of films. She watches movies to enjoy them. She has a lot of opinions and delights in playfully bickering with Snufkin on movie night.

Snufkin tends to pick obscure and intellectually pretentious foreign films that require subtitles, old timey queer coded stuff, indie films, movies with clear environmental or socialist undertones, bizarre animated movies from the 70’s that are oddly engaging yet baffling, and anything that would make a person ask “What the heck did I just watch?” Snufkin’s picks are always Sniff’s least favorite, and he complains throughout. Snufkin likes to point out symbolism in movies and read between the lines. Just like Snorkmaiden, he tends to have a lot of opinions. He often goes into movie night telling himself he will be aloof as is standard, but Snorkmaiden usually (deliberately, and in good fun) gets to him.

Moomintroll is the only person here who just wants to eat popcorn and watch movies in peace. Is that too much to ask? He tends to pick fairly standard stuff: Franchise movies, popular mainstream things everyone is at least vaguely familiar with, seasonal favorites (always a spooky movie in October, for example). He’s here to laugh or cry and move on with his life, not listen to people use big words like ennui and ingénue and proletariat. He’s the person most likely doing the shushing.

((He’s having a lot of fun, too. He just has to be dramatic about it))

If you are anyone other than Moomintroll, then watching Snorkmaiden and Snufkin playfully and enthusiastically flex their debating skills is the highlight of the event. Their commentary is the stuff of legend. Even Sniff, who has very little of an idea what they are talking about, finds it fascinating to watch these two people who don’t often interact match wits. Movie night is very intellectually stimulating for both of them. They both love Moomintroll in their own way, but he really isn’t the most intellectual person either of them knows (even if Snufkin is too nice to say it).

I can take almost any movie and write out how their interactions would go. Let’s take Les Miserables. Ten minutes in and, predictably, Snufkin has opinions about the bourgeoisie. Snorkmaiden interrupts to tell him to “Stop making Les Mis political and just enjoy watching the sexy French people suffer.” She knows Les Mis is political but she also knows this will get a rise out of Snufkin. It does. “Les Mis can’t NOT be political!” Snufkin insists and now they are off. Is it romantic or insufferable that Marius falls in love with Cossette on first sight and can’t focus on the revolution anymore? Is Javert redeemable? Is anyone surprised Sniff’s favorite characters are the Innkeepers?

Other than their own choices, Snufkin and Snorkmaiden tend to best enjoy one another’s choices. As much as Snufkin might act like a hipster and Snorkmaiden might act like a… prep (I guess??), they actually share a lot of interests. When Snorkmaiden announces she wants to watch Mamma Mia! Snufkin is the most excited member of the group. When Snufkin shows them a South Korean drama called Castaway on the Moon Snorkmaiden is enchanted and loves it. Little My will never let anyone forget the time Snufkin actually cried during The Fox and the Hound (and during the last fifteen minutes didn’t mention monopolies even once!) or the time she caught Snorkmaiden writing fanfiction for the film Saving Face.

The tradition continues for a long time; it is important for the people who found a family in the Moomins to come together sometimes, even if they normally don’t have much in common. As other kids that Moominmamma takes in (like Ninny) get older, they probably join in too.

#moomins #moominvalley #moomintroll #snufkin #snufmin #snorkmaiden #little my #sniff #i just want them to be friends

[themagicianshea]

From now until November, we’ll be spotlighting some of our MHHE registered authors. Want to make art for them? Register here! Artists who register before July 6th get early access to claims.

MHHE Author Spotlight: Page161of180

What piece of work best represents your writing style, and how would you briefly describe it?

I think that my most representative piece is one called "You're a Story (I Can Follow)". It's a take on the Orpheus and Eurydice myth, that involves Eliot rescuing Quentin from the Underworld after the events of season four-- which, *heavy sigh*, I wrote in the middle of season four, before I realized how badly I would eventually a crave a story that gets Quentin back. 

I think it speaks clearly to the things I like to do as a writer: the plot is there but not overly complex, the focus is on the characters (specifically Eliot and Quentin) and how they understand themselves and each other and who they are to each other, there are just an absolutely gratuitous number of flashbacks and memories and little moments that show the truth of any relationship (in my view), it's deep in the feels but ends joyfully, and it takes as both thesis statement and rallying cry that the beating heart of love is knowing someone really damn well and taking care of them as best you can, even if you are a full disaster every time you try to express it. 

One of my favorite bits, which takes place near the start of the story, when Eliot is trying to convince himself that Quentin is actually following him out of the Underworld, follows below. If you want to know how I see Eliot in his relationship to Quentin (that is: desperately romantic and desperately dysfunctional about it), this is all you really need to read:

He cleared his throat once. It would have been almost comically affected, except for the fact that he actually did need to clear the choking lump that had formed if he was going to get a word out. “The thought occurs,” he said, keeping his voice deliberately casual, “that if we’re going to make it up however many stairs are in the Underworld Branch without me losing what’s left of my mind, the whole ‘ascending in silence’ thing isn’t going to cut it. I know there’s not much you can do about that at the moment--”

He grabbed the banister to cover the tremor in his hand, “--so you’ll just have to suffer through my sparkling conversation. Fortunately, I’ve cultivated a real gift for speaking to imaginary versions of you recently. And on the off chance you’ve bailed on the whole enterprise already, we’ll just-- chalk this up to the stage of the grieving process where I go full season 5 - season 6 hiatus Spike.”

Eliot actually could feel Q, then, but he knew it wasn’t coming from behind him, but inside him, the shard of Q that was a part of him, always, even all the months Eliot had repressed him. The part that was always watching Eliot with disappointed (but unsurprised) eyes as Eliot pretended every little thing about Q didn’t make him want to carve a shelter out of his body for this reckless little stormcloud of a man, with his awful clothes and embarrassing earnestness and the eyelashes that Eliot honest-to-God couldn’t not kiss every. Single. Time. he’d watched them flutter while Q flew apart with Eliot’s name in his mouth.

“Sorry,” Eliot said quietly, letting out a sigh. “I told myself that I was going to be better--” braver “--if I ever . . . saw you. Again. Ever so slightly less full of my own bullshit. But this is--”

Nothing like he thought it would be , for starters. In his relentless planning for what he’d do when he was free, he’d imagined what he’d say if Q was happy, if Q was furious, if Q had already fucked off and married Alice and they had 2.5 magical prodigies and Q hadn’t even thought of Eliot in thirteen years of however the fuck much time had passed. But never had he considered coming back to find Q-- gone . It hardly would have been conducive to maintaining his sanity. Nor had he considered what it would be like to find Q but to have lost the words . To be too chickenshit to say them, sure. To fumble them, abso-fucking-lutely. But to have mortgaged them away?

“-- it’s hard, Q,” he finally settled on. “It’s just-- really hard.”

He could imagine the Q behind him, and the Q inside him, both furrowing their brows.

“Oh stop it,” he shushed, in the familiar way born of having the time to learn every one of a person’s textbook moves. “You know you’re always worth it. To me.”

And: bonus answer! While I think "You're a Story" is probably my most representative work overall, it is a bit mournful in tone until the ending, so perhaps not the best representative of what my MHHE work will be like! For that, I'd recommend, "The Honor of Your Presence," which is the fully indulgent, outsider-POV, Queliot wedding piece that my heart needed: . A snippet (and strong contender for my absolute favorite piece of dialogue that I've written) follows below:

“Fine,” King Quentin says. “Forget the whole ‘obey’ thing. What about just love and honor ? That’s-- unobjectionable, right?”

King Eliot doesn’t answer immediately, and because he is wearing one of his looser tunics today, without the high-collared jackets he prefers, Rafe can see that the pulse in his throat begins to pound at a pace not unlike the palace’s fleet of messenger bunnies.

“Seriously,” King Quentin sighs.

“It’s not that it’s objectionable , per se,” King Eliot says, his voice a note higher than normal. Rafe might say it was verging on the hysterical, were that a word that could be fairly applied to a king. “Isn’t it just-- a bit gauche to come out and say it? What happened to preserving the mystery?”

What piece of work are you most proud of and why?

While I'm embarrassingly attached to everything I've written in this fandom (because I'm embarrassingly attached to the characters themselves), I think my personal proudest moment is a piece called "A Little Disguised, or a Little Mistaken". On one level, this is all about Eliot and Quentin's memory-wipe personas Nigel and Brian meeting and falling in love like the nonsensical soulmates that they are. But on another level, it's also about the parts of Eliot and Quentin that are immutable and come through no matter what, and the way that they keep making the same mistakes with each other (and getting the same things right) across their various timelines and identities. It's also, in large measure, about Jane Austen, for reasons. If you want to know what me writing a no-magic, modern AU romcom would look like (cough cough, MHHE!, cough), the first three-quarters of this are a pretty good indication.

“What can I make you tonight? And keep in mind-- we’re celebrating.”

That was right, Nigel’s text had said he had good news. Well, at least one of them did.

“Um. Something, like, fruity?”

Nigel smirked and it made Brian want to simultaneously slide to the floor and also reach over and pull Nigel in by the collar, but he did neither.

“Okayyy,” Nigel said. “Do I get anything more to go on?”

Brian shrugged one shoulder. “Surprise me.”

Nigel’s hands, always deft and sure, fumbled the glass for a moment, but he recovered it. “Why don’t you tell me what you don’t like,” he said once he had.

Nothing you’re offering , Brian wanted to say. But instead he cleared his throat and said, “Uh. Peaches, I guess? I don’t like them.”

Nigel nodded. “What don’t you like about them?”

They hurt to eat , Brian thought. “Too sweet, I guess,” he said instead.

“I’ll take your word for it,” Nigel said, already starting to gather ingredients.

“You’ve never eaten a peach?”

Nigel shook his head as he started muddling something with something else. “Allergic. Even the smell’s kind of overpowering, though. I get how they could be too much.”

As Nigel poured and shook and stirred, Brian watched entranced and a little sad that something Nigel did so naturally was so dangerous for him. Or maybe it wasn’t natural at all. Maybe Nigel was just a much better actor than New York had given him credit for.

Nigel finished his creation and placed it on a napkin, before sliding it across the bar to Brian. It was reddish-gold in color, shading down to a deeper purple-red at the bottom of the glass.

“Gin fizz with a plum shrub,” he said to Brian’s inquisitive look. “Anyway. Brace yourself. Good news incoming.”

What tropes can we look forward to in your MHHE fic?

Let's see . . .  There's going to be about a millisecond of enemies-to-lovers, but let's be real-- these two are far too charmed by each other to stay enemies for long. Not sure any of the following are within the strict definition of "tropes," but they're among my personal favorites, so you can go ahead and expect some gratuitous cuddling of a puppy, some deep-meaningful-late-night-talks-even-though-we've-only-just-met (time is an illusion! they bond fast!), so so so much expressing of thinly-veiled feelings through artistic expression, and actively pining while also actively sleeping together. Also, am I going snow these ridiculous gentlemen in? (I'm going to snow these ridiculous gentlemen in.) 

Fuck, Marry, Kiss (under the mistletoe) with three Magicians characters of your choice!

My fully honest answer is Eliot, Eliot, and Eliot. But my even more honest answer is that I'd rather sit back with a cup of tea and a plate of gingerbread cookies and sigh with deep appreciation while Quentin handles all of Eliot's mistletoe needs.

#mhhe #mhhe author spotlight #queliot #Quentin Coldwater #eliot waugh

[aerinmelina]

could we have some warren x reader movie night hc's???? I need more fluff in life tbh (and more fablehaven fanfics lol)

This one is going to get paired with this additional ask I received today:

You two must have been channeling each other! (PS I love fanfics!!!)

Movie night with Warren. Heh. We love our Warren, don’t we? :) He’s fantastic. I hope you both like these ones!

1. Warren loves to snuggle, so movie nights involve cuddling.

2. When he feels like he’s not getting enough of your attention or time, Warren will spontaneously announce that tonight is movie night, no you can’t refuse, he will bring popcorn and drinks, and your job is to snuggle up and let him hold you. (And laugh at his dad jokes.)

3. You both often like to talk while a movie is playing, unless it’s something one or both of you are extremely excited to watch. Otherwise, it’s “you pick a movie and we make fun of the dumb choices the characters make as well as the oh-so-predictable plot twists” which makes a fun hour and a half.

4. If it is a movie that one or both of you have been looking forward to seeing, you’re likely watching it in the theater. Which involves hand holding and sharing snacks. Hands off the chocolate covered raisins, though, because those are Warren’s favorite.

5. You steal his raisins and he pouts. It’s an adorable pout and makes you laugh. Which wounds his pride a little.

6. Warren is game for almost any type of movie. He wouldn’t typically opt to see a sappy romcom on his own, but if that’s your jam then he’ll totally tag along without complaint. Spending time with you is the most important factor to him. He’s more into action/adventure movies himself, and he invites you to go see those with him.

7. Warren is flirty with you, even at the movie theater. You can’t help but flirt back. He’s too playful for you to not engage with him. The people who work at the theater raise their eyebrows at you, as though they’re wondering if you’re going to be cause for concern. Other moviegoers either find you entertaining or annoying depending on how loud or over-the-top you’re being. You don’t really care what the other people are thinking, though… you’re there for movie night with your man.

8. You get into stupid arguments during movies - whispered at the theater, spoken loudly at home - about plot inconsistencies, characterization and whether or not you agree with the decisions the characters make. You argue with grins on your faces at first because it’s meant to be fun and games, but it sometimes winds up becoming an actual argument - still about the stupid things - and eventually the argument ends with one or both of you asking, “Why are we even fighting about this? What’s the point??” And then you both wind up in laughter.

9. Yeah. You’re the annoying couple that talks during movies. You’re conscious of the people around you if you’re out of the house, and always try to be courteous to them, but every once in a while you get carried away and wind up getting shushed at.

10. Back to movies at home. We’ve been over the fact that movie night = cuddles. Blankets and pillows often get involved. Warren likes to be the big spoon. He also likes it when he lays on his back and you snuggle up to his side and lay your head on his chest. You actually bought a couch with movie nights in mind, because it’s your thing you guys do to reconnect with each other, so your couch is super comfortable and large enough to sleep on.

11. You rotate choosing movies. One night it’s him who chooses, another night it’s you who chooses, lather, rinse, repeat.

12. Warren gets antsy during boring movies. You know he’s lost all interest in the film if he starts squirming to the point where he simply can’t sit still. It’s his “I don’t wanna watch this, I’m bored, but I wanna keep snuggling” routine.

13. He likes to talk about the movie after it’s over. What he liked or disliked, what you liked or disliked, how you both thought it could’ve been better, did the actors do a good job, etc.

14. If Warren falls asleep during a movie, you know he’s utterly worn out because he just doesn’t sleep during movies.

15. Netflix and chill. In all its meanings. That’s all I have to say about that. :)

#fablehaven #anonymous #aerinm spills hcs #thanks for asking! #warren burgess

[lindyhunt]

Was It Wrong for a Movie-Goer to Live Tweet Greta Gerwig’s I Feel Pretty Reaction?

Despite stirring some early-onset outrage, since its release, Amy Schumer’s I Feel Pretty has mostly been met with positive reviews. Oprah adored the movie, saying she walked out of the theatre “feeling the definition of empowered.” Jessica Chastain endorsed the film with an Instagram post, encouraging her followers to check it out. Even Bill Maher publicly praised it! (Or rather, he slams on the “idiots” who hated on it. Same thing, right?)

But not every industry celeb is a fan of the self-love romcom. How do we know this? Because when Greta Gerwig attended an afternoon screening of I Feel Pretty on Wednesday, a fellow movie goer took it upon herself to live-tweet the Lady Bird director’s reaction—and it wasn’t all laughs.  In a now viral thread, Twitter user Jaye Hunt narrates the experience of sitting behind the Oscar-nominated filmmaker and her friends in a New York theatre. It all starts with an extra-large fountain pop, and the oh-so-entertaining commentary only picks up from there. Here are a few of the highlights:

um I’m in a movie theater about to see I feel pretty alone and greta gerwig just walked in and sat down in front of me

— i just wanted to see aidy bryant’s new movie (@hayejunt) May 9, 2018

full gasp from greta when emily ratajowski appeared. she’s a fan!

— i just wanted to see aidy bryant’s new movie (@hayejunt) May 9, 2018

JDDNALJDSLSOXNSLSOSJSLDODJALAOS SHE JUST LOUDLY POINTED OUT A PLOT HOLE AND SOMEONE SHUSHED HER

— i just wanted to see aidy bryant’s new movie (@hayejunt) May 9, 2018

“I hate this” – full volume during a heterosexual love scene. honestly greta? same

— i just wanted to see aidy bryant’s new movie (@hayejunt) May 9, 2018

FULL VOLUME AT THE QUIETEST MOMENT OF THE CLIMAX OF THE MOVIE: “THIS MOVIE IS IN. COMP. RE. HENSIBLE.”

— i just wanted to see aidy bryant’s new movie (@hayejunt) May 9, 2018

the movie ended and she said “aidy bryant was wasted in that!” HARD AGREE

— i just wanted to see aidy bryant’s new movie (@hayejunt) May 9, 2018

Is it an epic thread? Yes. Are there people upset over it? Of course. No one really cares that Gerwig hates the film—but A LOT of people seem to care that she, a filmmaker, loudly bashed another film in a public space.

Greta Gerwig allegedly bashed I FEEL PRETTY loudly in a theater. I would expect a director to have more respect for audience and filmmakers. https://t.co/bEP0p82QQK

— David Lawrance (@davidlawrance) May 10, 2018

No one likes a Tommy Talker! And apparently, no one likes the person who exposes the Tommy Talker on Twitter either. Because even when a public person shouts her opinions in a public place, the Internet gets upset that these opinions are publicly shared. The big debate here isn’t Gerwig’s behaviour; it’s the amount of privacy famous people deserve.

This… really sucks? People, even public figures, deserve to exist without their actions being liveblogged. https://t.co/MeOrSEhI2O

— Daniel D'Addario (@DPD_) May 10, 2018

So who’s in the wrong? Is it Gerwig, the acclaimed filmmaker who allegedly disrupted and disrespected the film going experience? Is it Hunt, the live-tweeter, who came across a celeb in the wild and shared the shocking encounter with her followers? Speaking loudly in a movie isn’t cool—but neither is typing on your phone throughout the entire thing.

Busy Philipps, I Feel Pretty star, weighed in on the case in her Instagram story Thursday.

“Guys did you see this woman that like live-tweeted Greta watching I Feel Pretty?” Philipps asks the Internet. “I mean she’s pretty f–king mean about the movie, but that’s not my issue necessarily…I mean that does suck especially because Greta’s our friend.”

The thing that “struck” her the most is that we might be at this point where “we’re just like everybody exists for my own personal LOLs.”

“It just bummed me out on such a deeply personal level for a few reasons,” she spoke into her phone to her social media following. “It’s just the idea that if you are in the public eye in whatever capacity that you just sort of are giving up your autonomy and your privacy, anywhere, that you can’t go to a movie theatre.”

Philips ended by calling the entire situation “complicated”—which it definitely is. One one hand, this Tweeter probably didn’t think that the star spotting messages she sent out to her 2,000 followers would attract mass media attention. She fan girled over a celeb she admires, and she got carried away sharing the experience with her social circle. (Who among us wouldn’t humble brag online about this bizarre encounter?! Heck, I post an Instagram story every time I come within meters of a C-List celeb.)

And on the other hand, how do we even know this story is real? In our click-bait culture, perhaps we’re too quick to take these unverified interpretations of Gerwig’s reaction to I Feel Pretty as truth—simply because they make for a great story. Maybe Gerwig loved the movie, or maybe, she hasn’t even seen it yet.