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fanfic-me-up · 4 years

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Capture This! || Kaminari Denki

Synopsis: You walk in on Denki, your best friend of five years, getting off. Two questions: Why is there a picture of you? And why do you want him to take more?

Pairing: Kaminari Denki x fem!reader

Warnings: M/E+, 18+, explicit sexual content

Word Count: 6k+

A/N: This is for the @bnhabookclub bingo event! Thank you @shoutogepi and @im-here-for-the-heroes for beta reading. Shout out to @whats-her-quirk this fic was born from me poppin in during your thirst hours lol

“Lotion? Check. Tissues? Check. Pictures?”

Denki swallows.

“Check.”

It’s routine for Denki, really the only ritual he sticks to in his otherwise scatterbrained schedule of kickin’ ass, chilling with friends, and playing Fortnite till ungodly hours of the morning.

But he can’t help it. You’re fucking gorgeous, and Denki has needs - his brain programmed to get off at least three times a day else he can’t function. The first time it happened, he felt a deep sense of shame, twisting his gut, disgusted with himself that he defiled your image. He couldn’t look you in the eye for a week until you had enough and demanded to know what was up. It was the first time he lied to you.

But one time became two, and three, and suddenly Denki needed an image of you all the time. The one of you looking all pretty in that stupid summer dress was his favorite. You bought it that one time you dragged him to the mall because you needed a “guy’s opinion.” He rushed to the bathroom because if he didn’t get out fast, he was gonna drag you back into the changing room and rip that dress off himself.

You’re adorable, hot, sexy, and absolutely terrifying, wrapped up in one perfect package.

Oh, and did he forget to mention?

Totally off-limits.

This is why Denki has to resort to hanging out with you, listening to you vent about your boy problems, and how you just want to meet “the one” already. Denki’s heart breaks a little more every time you shove him deeper into the friend zone, all the while pretending like he didn’t just jerk it to you a couple hours before.

He works his hand up and down his shaft, growing harder by the second with each stroke. It doesn’t take much to get him going, not when it’s you. You’re wearing his hoodie, toes buried in the sand, roasting a marshmallow in front of a bonfire. You’re smiling at something Kirishima said, Denki doesn’t remember what, because all he could see was the light in your eyes. A genuine spark lit only when the cameras were off, and you were unaware of anyone watching. Denki loved witnessing these rare moments; wanted to commit it to memory, so he did. When you posted the picture on Instagram, Denki was more than surprised; you had scrunched your nose when he showed you the picture, displeased with how you looked.

This should not be happening. Any normal person would feel ashamed when staring at a picture of their best friend and touching themselves. No one knew about it, and Denki was surprised he was able to keep it a secret for this long considering he’s friends with fucking Mina of all people.

Enough pre-cum bubbles at the tip that he doesn’t even need the lotion. Staring at you on the screen, wearing his hoodie that’s way too big it covers your thighs completely, makes his mind wander to all sorts of ways he wishes he could get you out of that hoodie. He leans back into the chair, spreading his legs with his eyes half-lidded, imagining what your lips might look like wrapped around his cock.

“Fuck yeah...”

Groaning at the image of you on your knees, lips bruised and slicked with spit from fucking your pretty little mouth has Denki tightening his fist, hips fucking into his hand in a continuous rhythm.

He’s on the verge of coming when the door swings open - the first and last person Denki wants to walk in is standing there in front of him.

“Hey, I called, but you didn’t - ah!” You squeak, throwing the box you’re holding. A sea of random knick-knacks and hero merch rains over you. You hear a thump when the yellow polaroid camera you bought for Denki at a thrift shop hits the floor.

“Fuck!” Denki jumps from his chair, an array of pens fall in a heap to the floor.

You whip your head away, heat spikes your body, embarrassed that you saw your best friend in such a compromising position.

Denki mutters a repeated “shit shit shit” to himself for a good minute before he finally addresses you; his voice rising with each word.

“How did you get in here!?”

“Spare key, dumbass!”

“That’s for emergencies only!”

“Are you talking to me with your dick out!?”

Silence.

“No?”

You huff at the uncertainty in his tone. It’s only two o’clock, and you can already feel a migraine coming on.

“Denki, if I turn around and you’re not covered, so help me god I will-”

“Okay, okay, I got it. Pants are zipped.”

You don’t move until you hear the confirming “zip” before slowly opening your eyes (you have no idea why your eyes were closed in the first place), and you turn around to find Denki leaning against the desk. He’s trying his best to appear casual, but the flush on his face and frazzled hair give away what he was doing moments before you walked in. You don’t know where it comes from, but the thought alone stirs something inside you.

The confusing emotion is replaced by hot-blooded anger when you lock eyes on the screen behind him.

“Is that my face!?”

Denki’s smile drops as he turns around. Dammit. Of course, he forgot to close the tab.

“Uhhh…”

He has no words, none, not when you’re standing there with that intense look in your eyes you get when you’re about to rip someone a new one. Your anger could rival Bakugou’s, and Denki has unfortunately been in the middle of one too many screaming matches. He’s surprised his eardrums aren’t blown out by now.

He clicks to exit out, or at least he thinks he does until he comes to the dumb realization that he’s clicking the zoom button instead.

“Ho-hold on, let me just…”

With each click, it zooms a little more into your face until only your nose is in the frame. Denki sheepishly looks up at you.

“Oops?”

Denki’s had a good life. He’s already come farther than most ever dream in their career when becoming a pro-hero, and he’s made some amazing friends most spend years trying to find. The only regret of his is not confessing his true feelings to you, but really what’s one regret? He’s totally a-okay with saying goodbye to this cruel, cruel world if it meant not being subjected to this torture any longer.

“Denki Kaminari.”

Denki gulps. Oh no. You only say his full name when you mean business.

“Explain right this instant or I will walk out this door and tell the whole world how you and grape boy took body shots off cardboard cutouts of each other!”

“Hey! We were really fuckin’ drunk and thought it might score us some pity sex with the ladies!”

“In what world would you licking fuckin’ Mineta equal oh yeah, fuck me, Denki?”

Denki cowers with each step you take, gulping down the lump in his throat when your face is close enough to hold in his hands. He’s never been more simultaneously turned on and terrified in his life. Especially when he just heard the words “fuck me, Denki” escape your lips.

Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Whatever you do. Don’t. Look. Down.

The last thing he wants is you flinging him out the window because he couldn’t keep his eyes on your face. Don’t get him wrong; he could look at your face forever, even when you look like your one move away from killing him. But… he’s a dude, and there’s boobs in front of him, not to mention your boobs.

“Hello? Earth to Denki?” You wave your hand in his face.

“You may wanna sit down for this.”

“I’m fine where I am, thank you very much.”

He huffs out a breath, annoyed you didn’t take the bait. The suggestion was more for his sanity than yours. With you standing so close, his brain is going haywire; the tantalizing scent of strawberries and cream short-circuiting his brain quicker than when he overuses his quirk. It never fails to make his mouth water, if only he could bend down and bury his nose in the crook of your neck, god, he’d never let you go.

How does he even begin to work through the feelings he has for you when they’ve been bottled up since the moment he knew he was in deep? Where does he start?

The fact he’s been in love with you for the past five years?

Or that he’s been getting off to you for half that time?

Denki’s mind is running a mile a minute, like a computer in overdrive. He can’t make enough sense of his emotions to convert into words. But, instead of waiting to open his mouth, like a normal person, Denki spews out embarrassing word vomit that connects his two thoughts.

“I love getting off to you.”

A pin could drop, and it’d be as loud as a freaking hurricane.

Denki groans in frustration, facepalming his forehead. What the hell did he just say, and can he take it back? How long would it take for him to hack into a database and find someone with a time manipulation quirk? He doesn’t even know how to hack, but he’d wrangle his one brain cell and fucking learn if that’s what it takes.

He’s usually good at reading you. You’re one of the few people he cares enough to pick up on how you’re feeling. The myriad of emotions that pass on your face from shock to confusion to a hint of amusement lets Denki know he can breathe easy. At least you’re not trying to kill him anymore.

“Oh-kay that’s not what I - what I meant to say was - hold on, lemme just, rewind.”

He makes some weird, loopy gesture with his arms. His brain was firing a million synapses at once, each connected to a different thought, some deep like the fear of losing you and some not so deep - like he’s really excited to eat the cheeseburgers Bakugou promised he’d grill tonight.

But he tries his best to reign in the million and one thoughts to focus on you, who’s waiting for an explanation. He takes a deep breath to steady his heart that’s about to beat out of his chest. He only hopes you don’t stomp on it after what he’s about to say.

“I’m in love with you, Y/N. I have been since our first year at U.A. I wanted to tell you for the longest time, but then you got with Bakugou. Then you broke up, and you needed a friend more than ever, and how could I say no to being ‘your best bro’ when you were crying on my shoulder? It was just never the right time.”

The more he rambled, the more uncomfortable he felt. Out of all the scenarios he imagined of how he’d confess to you, this one was at the bottom of his list to be prepared for. He never expected to be forced into confessing because you caught him masturbating to pictures of you. He rubs the back of his neck and gives an awkward laugh when you stay silent.

“I get it if you wanna, like, shun me forever or something. I deserve it for being such a creep.”

Denki lowers his head to the floor, the clutter of fallen pens and knick-knacks looks way less intimidating than staring into your eyes. A soft hand touches his chin, lifting his face to meet yours.

“Hey, look at me, it’s okay.”

Your voice does wonders for soothing the nerves shaking him up.

“I guess it’s not that creepy when you put it like that, and for some weird reason, you’re like the one person I can catch jacking off to my pictures, and I don’t feel the need to report you as a registered sex offender.”

It’s meant to be reassuring, but Denki’s heart drops at the idea of you labeling him as the neighborhood perv.

“Please, don’t do that,” he squeaks before clearing his throat, “But for real, Y/N, I’m so sorry. It’s wrong to disrespect you like that, and I promise I won’t do it again.”

Denki has no idea how he’s gonna get off now, but that’s his future self’s problem.

“I can’t help it, you’re gorgeous, and I love ya, and I don’t remember the last time I got laid.”

Fuck. He didn’t mean to say that last part, but it’s the truth. You’re the reason he couldn’t even look at another girl, because they weren’t you, and that’s why he had to resort to pulling up pictures of you. Pictures that aren’t normally deemed “sexy” and of you dressed modestly, without much skin showing.

That doesn’t stop Denki from coming in record time with your name rolling off his lips every time.

“How bad do you want me?”

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t the least bit curious about what sex with your best friend would be like. You heard he wasn’t a bad lay from a couple girls back at U.A.

You’d also be lying if you didn’t say you were just as horny as said best friend.

It’s difficult finding time to date as a pro-hero. When you do, it doesn’t last very long anyway - the other person growing tired of always coming second to your career. Don’t even get you started on one night stands. They’re practically impossible to uphold as once the media gets wind of it, you’re slapped on the cover of “Hero Times Magazine,” and everyone and their mother is calling for you to “spill the tea.” This is why pro-heroes either end up with other pro-heroes or end up alone.

Denki’s eyebrows shoot straight to his hairline. If someone were to tell him you were attracted to him in any sense of the word, his heart would double-time it, but he’d ultimately brush it off. He knew your type, and he could not be farther from it. The aggressive, beefy, gym rat who could match you move for move in a heated spar of harsh words and hot-blooded passion. You dated Bakugou for fuck’s sake! There was no hope for Denki after that.

But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take what he can get. The words pour out of him like the dam’s been broken and the unforgiving flood rushes.

“I want you so bad, Y/N, fuck, I’ve waited so long, so fucking long, you don’t know how crazy you make me.”

Your breath catches. His words have an unexpected effect on you, but your heart drums in anticipation. If you listen close enough, you can hear Denki’s beating at the same rate, waiting for what you’re going to say next. Power surges through you. In your past relationships, sex was always seen as this competition. Your exes never wanted to relinquish their pride or control, but Denki is nothing like your exes. He’s laid-back, always cracking jokes, and never dwelling too much on the past, always moving forward to the next moment. He’s perfectly fine with letting you take the reins most of the time. You determine what will happen next.

“You love getting off to me?”

It’s a rhetorical question, but he answers in earnest.

“You’re the only one I get off to.”

You slide your dress off, and it falls to the floor.

“Show me.”

Denki’s eyes travel over your body, his mouth slightly open in disbelief at your undressed state. He wants to capture this moment in case this is as much as he gets, even if he can never use this mental picture because he promised you he wouldn’t. His fingers itch to brush along the lace trim of your bra, to graze along your nipple, and watch your reaction. Are you sensitive enough where you’d full on moan, or would he have to strain to catch the small hitch of breath? Denki was never top of his class. He preferred to wing it and hope for the best, but for you, he’d take his time to study every inch and crevice of your body until he could read you cover to cover with his eyes closed. His gaze travels down to the matching lace panties you wear, a cute little bow in the front waiting to be untied with his teeth.

Did you plan to get fucked today? Or do you usually wear matching sets on the regular?

Your skin looks so soft and supple, he’s aching to dig his fingers, but before he can, you step away. Denki cocks his head. Have you changed your mind? But any doubt leaves Denki when you make your way across the room to sit down on the edge of the bed.

You start with feather-light touches dancing along your collarbone. Your eyes are locked on Denki, getting high on the way he drinks in your every move. Your touches are teasing, especially when your finger dips down to your cleavage. Still, instead of giving Denki what he wants, you change course, making your way back to your shoulders. Denki exhales a breath at your teasing, but says nothing, too afraid he’ll ruin the mood if he says something stupid.

When you make your way down again, you don’t disappoint; you pinch your nipple through your bra, and the way Denki swipes his tongue over his lip has heat rushing to your core. You slide your hand down your stomach, stopping when you reach your clothed slit. Denki stares, hungry and buzzing in anticipation for what you’ll do next. Smirking in victory, you spread your legs open and pull your panties to the side, giving him the view to capture the perfect picture of your dripping pussy.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

You taunt breathlessly, tracing your folds with your fingers.

Oh shit. Were you for real? Please, tell him you were for real because he legit might cry if this was some elaborate prank. Where are the fucking cameras?

“You don’t want to?” You bite your lip, insecurity seeping through the confident smile you wore just a moment ago.

“No! I mean - yes! Yes, I do, holy shit, let me find - where the fuck is…” Denki whips around, trying to find his phone. Fuck! Out of all the times to misplace it, it has to be now. But then he spots the yellow polaroid camera sitting on the floor, and before he can think, he’s picking it up and praying it has film. He kneels, so he’s eye level with your pussy, but also making sure the angle gets your whole body in the frame. The light streaming in gives you an ethereal look, your skin glowing, and adding to the cute flush on your cheeks. The camera clicks, and a second later, the picture slides out. You giggle at Denki’s impatience. He’s waving the picture frantically in the air, so the color comes through faster. He completely stills when he can finally take a good look at the beauty he’s captured.

“Fuck, Y/N, you look…”

Denki can’t control the groan that escapes. He looks back up at you, eyes darkened with lust before he’s ripping his shorts off so fast, his foot gets caught, and he almost trips in the process. Once he’s out of them, he plops back down in the chair across the room. You’re surprised when all you feel is pure, unadulterated lust. You expected to be at least a little bit weirded out staring at your best friend’s cock, but all you want is to put it in your mouth and explore all the different ways you can make him come. The tip is oozing pre-cum already, and the way he works his hand with a sense of urgency suggests he’s been hard for a while. It doesn’t take long before you hear Denki grunt.

“Fuck, I’m close.”

You look so pretty spread out for him. For the last five years, he wanted nothing more than to see you like this. His hips jerk up, and he throws his head back, but he makes sure to keep his eyes open like his life depended on it; he didn’t want to miss a second of this. You, with your legs wide open giving him a view of your perfect little pussy. Your panties soaked by you rubbing your clit mercilessly, and your pupils blown wide as you watch your best friend get off to the show you’re giving him. It’s erotic as hell, completely different from the pictures Denki has of you. This one easily tops all the others. He tightens his fist - he doesn’t want it to end without feeling your skin on his at least once.

“Let me touch you, Y/N, please, I just wanna touch you, need to feel you.”

Denki doesn’t give a fuck that he’s begging at this point. He’s waited too damn long to care about pride or dignity, not when the chance to fuck you is placed in his shaking hands. You bite your lip to suppress a moan, but it comes out anyway.

“Touch me.”

That’s all Denki needs. Before you know it, you’re pushed down on the bed, and lips smash against yours. He’s eager, a little too eager, shoving his tongue in your mouth and touching everywhere that he can. You don’t have much room to breathe, so you gently push at his chest.

“Chill, Denki.”

He huffs out a breath, muscles shaking like he’s restraining himself from overwhelming you.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,”

He mumbles, peppering kisses into your neck before making his way back to your lips. It’s much smoother this time, his tongue sliding out to tease your bottom lip, asking for permission this time. He groans when you open up for him, your tongue meeting his. Hands trail up until they reach around, resting on the clasp of your bra. Honey eyes meet yours, but you cut off his question.

“I’ll stop you if I need to, but you asking me if it’s okay every time you try something is gonna seriously kill the mood.”

You reach around to place your hands on top of his, unclasping your bra along with him. His eyes darken at the sight of your bare chest. You try not to squirm at the intensity of his gaze. It becomes near impossible when he dips down to flick his tongue over your nipple before biting with his teeth. He pays the same attention to the other one before kissing his way down your stomach. You arch your back when he spreads your legs and positions himself between them. He makes his way around, avoiding your dripping pussy, teasing your thighs with soft kisses. You huff in annoyance, and he smirks up at you, biting into the flesh of your thigh. This time he places a kiss to your heated center, enjoying the way you squirm under his touch.

“Is it everything you imagined?” You ask.

He looks up at you, with such a serious expression, one you’ve only seen a couple times since knowing him.

“Everything and more.”

Your heart flutters, and you know you’re going to say something you’ll regret if you don’t stop counting the different shades of gold in his eyes. You clear your throat before throwing your hair back.

“You gonna fuck me, or am I gonna have to do it myself?”

You pull his head in for a demanding kiss, biting on his lip to distract yourself from the rush of bubbling emotions threatening to surface.

“One sec,” Denki whispers, placing one last kiss to your lips, before getting up.

You gape at the giant box of condoms he casually pulls out. It hasn’t been opened, and oh my god, you didn’t even know they made huge boxes like this. There were at least a hundred in there. What person thinks to buy a big box of condoms if their plans don’t include… fucking a whole ass army?

“What the fuck, Denki?”

People usually have one, maybe two condoms in their wallet at most. Some guys don’t have any at all, which kills the mood when you’re in the heat of the moment, so I guess you can be thankful that Denki is... extra prepared?

“What?”

He pulls a condom out and drops the box. It thumps when it hits the floor. You’re taken aback by how nonchalant he’s being about this.

“I- you- wha- How many times do you think we’re gonna do it!?”

Denki slides the condom on, smirking at your shocked expression.

“Till we finish this box,” he says as he slides into you.

You gasp at the stretch. He pushes to the hilt, and stays there when he notices the slight furrow of your brow. It has been a while since you’ve fucked, but soon enough, you crave more so you roll your hips, but he doesn’t move.

“Denki?”

His head is pressed into your neck, warm breath tickling your skin, and the stuttering heartbeat matches to the beat of your own.

“Just… gimme a minute, don’t wanna ruin it by coming in two seconds.”

His words are muffled, voice raspy with desire, and you can only imagine what his face looks like. It makes you want him all the more. Finally, someone who doesn’t see sex as an opportunity to one-up you or to put you in your place. It’s scary how the last twenty minutes have changed five years of friendship.

“Hey,” you hold his face in between your palms. He already looks completely fucked out with his face flushed and eyes glazed. You place a tender kiss to his lips, unlike the previous kisses you shared.

“You couldn’t ruin it even if you did come right now.”

You caress his hair in an attempt to reassure him.

“You’d just have to make it up to me,” you wink.

His smile is so pure, lighting up his eyes that’s unique to Denki; it makes your heart do somersaults in your chest. But the moment passes as the previous heat between you two spikes when Denki circles his hips, taking his time to feel you inside and out. He’s touching and kissing you wherever he can, your cheek, neck, chest, thighs, like it’s the first and last time he’ll experience you like this. It might very well be.

This thought doesn’t sit well with you.

Once he’s mapped out your sweet spots, he digs his fingers into your thighs and pulls your hips flush towards his. He pulls out of you until only the tip is brushing your opening and pounds back into you, taking your breath away. He pumps in and out of you faster, and you cry out when he hits that special spot deep inside of you.

“Denki,” you moan. He grunts and spreads your legs even wider, grabbing one and hauling it over his shoulder to pound into you deeper.

He’s getting close, hell, he’s been close even before you walked in.

“F-fuck…” Denki groans, thrusting at an uneven pace and feeling the familiar tightening in his groin.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you flip him over and begin bouncing on his cock in a much more steady rhythm. Denki’s staring up at you, eyes wide in admiration.

You’re a goddess. An absolute fucking masterpiece that needs to be put in a museum for his eyes only. God, when did he get so fucking mushy? You always brought out different sides that Denki, himself, didn’t even know he had. He can’t keep his hands off you, grabbing your boobs, sliding down the curves of your thighs, gripping your ass. He wants to commit it all to memory in case he never gets to know this pleasure again.

“Y/N, ah, shit, I’m gonna...” he trails off, unable to finish his sentence.

He’s holding on to that sweet release for as long as he can. He’s been craving it since he met you on the first day of class at U.A. His balls tighten, unable to hold it in any longer, before he gives in to the long overdue orgasm. It hits him hard - his entire body tingling from head to toe like 1000 volts of electricity bolt through him. Denki had no idea he could come for this long, but he doesn’t want it to end - it feels so fucking good inside you. He rides it out for a couple more thrusts before he relaxes, completely sated. You try to pull off him, but he grabs your hips and forces you back down. You squeak, clearly not expecting him to care enough to help you out after he finished.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

The tone of his voice sounds foreign in his ears, too gruff and too deep, but you seem to have no problems with it as you moan in response, working yourself on top of him. Your thighs crush his hips, shaking with need as you seek a release of your own. You’re tired from bouncing, so you resort to grinding, swirling your hips deliciously around his cock. Denki squeezes your ass in appreciation.

“You close?”

“Close, so close, Denki, please…”

Your eyes well up with tears, desperate to finish; the coil in your stomach wound too tight that you might burst any second. Denki helps you by thrusting his hips to meet yours, his hand rubbing your clit. You jolt at the sudden zap to your clit, you look down to see a small spark leave Denki’s fingertip. He does it again, and you cry out, your pussy fluttering from the electrifying touch.

“C’mon, baby, you can do it, come for me.”

Fuck. Denki didn’t mean for the pet name to slip out, but then you’re moaning louder than before that Denki would’ve had to quiet you if you weren’t alone. Words are tumbling out before you can stop them.

“Oh, fuck, Denki, I love this so much, I love you, I-”

You slap your hand over your mouth. Denki’s eyes widen for a second before a dangerous glint takes over, and he wretches your hand away from your mouth.

“Lemme hear you. C’mon, Y/N, show me how much you love this.”

You hardly recognize the scream as your own; you flush at how loud you are, but Denki doesn’t seem to mind. It seems to spur him on. He sits up so your chest to chest before he bends down to tug at your nipple with his teeth. You throw your head back in pleasure, your hands coming around to grab at his hair. Golden eyes look up at you from your chest, a slight smirk curving his lips.

“I’m no photographer, baby girl, but I can sure as hell picture us together.”

Leave it to Denki Kaminari to make you come with a cheesy pickup line.

He gives one final thrust, balls slapping against your ass and hitting the spot deep inside you just right. Your thighs quiver from the pleasure wracking your body, a scream lodging out of your throat so loud that the people next door bang on the wall. You’re overwhelmed to the point that all you can do is rest your head on his shoulder, whispering his name in a broken whimper as you finish.

You fall next to him on the bed, sweaty and completely wiped, both of you trying to catch your breath. Denki tosses the condom in the trash while you stare at the ceiling, watching the fan swirl round and round. Your mind is no different at the moment, going round in circles, and you’re trying to catch up. Your body feels weightless, tingling all over and loving the high you didn’t think was possible. The bed shifts, and suddenly you’re faced with your best friend of five years. Before he can get a word out, the front door slams shut, and two very familiar, very masculine voices are down the hall, getting closer by the second.

“Kaminari, you lazy shit, get the fuck down here!”

“Shit!” Denki jumps from the bed, ruffling through the mess to find his pants.

“Denki, just lock the door! Hurry!”

It’s too late as the door swings open, and yeah… if today taught Denki anything, it’s that he really needs to lock his door more often. He doesn’t have time to think as he hops back into bed with you to avoid flashing any of his other friends today. Bakugou would probably threaten to chop his dick off and… yeah, Denki doesn’t wanna think about the rest.

You squeak and cover yourself with the blanket when you’re met with two sets of equally shocked crimson eyes.

Kirishima drops the bag of chips he’s holding. It seems like dropping things when walking into Denki’s room was a common theme today, and he’s sure as hell not looking forward to the cleanup. Denki regrets chancing a glance at Bakugou; nostrils flaring like a rabid predator on the loose and Denki’s his target.

The four of you stare at each other for who knows how long before Kirishima breaks out into a full-on grin.

“About time, bro, congrats!”

“Congrats?” You turn to Denki, confused.

“The fuck!? You bangin’ my ex, dunceface!?” Bakugou shouts.

“Please don’t hurt me!” Denki squeaks, hiding underneath the covers.

“Oi! You fuck like a man, you better fight like one, too!”

You roll your eyes, hardly affected by Bakugou’s exploding presence, unlike Denki, who is literally shaking beside you.

“Oh fuck off, Katsuki, listen to yourself. Keyword ex-girlfriend.”

Bakugou sputters, and Kirishima drags him by the shoulder.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s been in a mood since he found out he’s gonna be the next star of the Bachelor.”

“You wanna die too, shitty hair!?”

You and Denki burst out laughing at the absurdity of Katsuki forced to act like a gentleman on live TV. The image of Katsuki in a suit and tie, holding a rose and actually smiling, is comedic gold to you.

“C’mon, bro, let’s give ’em some space.”

“Oi! You’re on my shit list now! All of you! Aye! Get the fuck off me!”

Kirishima drags Bakugou the rest of the way, giving you a quick thumbs up on the way out.

You and Denki are still cracking up, but your laughter dies when they leave, and you’re faced with the tension from before. Denki sinks lower into the sheets, hating that he keeps getting walked in on. Who decided it was ‘make a fool out of Denki day’ anyway?

“So…” you start.

“So…” Denki finishes.

You both stare straight ahead at nothing.

“Did you mean it?”

You raise an eyebrow, clearly asking him to elaborate.

“What you said, when you... you know...” he makes a clicking noise with his mouth like that’s universal code for fucking, “Or was it just a heat of the moment thing?”

You take a moment to think before you give your response. You want to be as honest as possible, and not lead Denki on in any way. Of course, you loved him, he’s your best friend, but did you love him?

You think back on your friendship, and suddenly a supercut of all the times he was there for you flashes before your eyes. He was there when you needed someone to drive you when you had your wisdom teeth pulled out. You didn’t expect Denki to stay with you the whole weekend, buying you ice cream and watching your favorite movies, but he did.

He was there when you and Bakugou became an item, always listening to you swoon over how amazing a boyfriend he was. Denki would always respond with “But can he do this?” and would proceed to overuse his quirk like an overpowered Pikachu just to make you laugh. It sends a knife through your heart, knowing Denki was in love with you while you were talking about how great of a boyfriend his friend was. Not to mention how he was there when you and Bakugou broke up, heart-broken and vowing to swear off boys for good. Denki held you in his arms while you cried, staying silent the entire time, which you knew was against his nature. Denki was always there for you as a friend. There’s no doubt he’d be there for you as a lover.

“I meant it,” you say.

Tears threaten to spill, and your heart might burst out of your chest and land right into his hands. You hope he holds on to it forever. He squishes your cheeks and leans down to plant the softest kiss on your lips. This is what you’ve been missing - more like who you’ve been missing. You open your mouth to deepen the kiss, and he meets you move for move. He pulls away, hands still on your cheeks, grazing your cheekbones with his fingertips as he stares into your eyes.

“Denki, I…” You bite your lip, overcome with emotion. You desperately want to say the words to capture this picture-perfect moment forever.

Until you feel something poking your thigh.

“Denki!”

You yell, affronted he popped a boner in the middle of what was supposed to be a romantic moment.

“Sorry!”

“Ugh! Worst timing ever!” You slap his shoulder.

“Ow! I said I’m sorry!”

You wiggle out of his embrace. Silence eats at the room, and you can feel Denki’s energy radiating in uncomfortable frequencies. The last moment had been thoroughly ruined.

But you have all the time in the world to make more.

“... round two?”

Just seeing Denki’s face light up like Christmas is enough to promise the birth of a new moment. He bends over to grab his box of condoms, some spilling on the floor and adding more to the mess, before saying, “hell yeah!”

You roll your eyes with affection. What a weirdo, you think. But he’s your weirdo.

That night, or rather the next day since it was currently three in the morning, Denki plops down on his bed exhausted from the day. He’s fluffing his pillow, trying to get comfortable, when he feels something underneath. His eyes widen when he takes in the picture he’s holding. You must’ve taken it when he was downstairs and snuck it under his pillow. You’re bent over with that same damn lacy bra that sends him for a loop. Your cleavage deliciously on display as you bite your lip and stare at the camera with those innocent eyes. Denki can’t help it, his hand sliding down on instinct and cupping himself through his boxers. He turns the picture around and smiles at the cute little message written on the back.

“To add to your collection 😉”

#kaminari x reader #kaminari denki x reader #bnhabookclub #kaminari denki smut #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #kaminari denki #denki kaminari #denki kaminari x reader #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #kaminari imagine #kaminari denki imagine #kaminari smut

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tsunderecookies · 3 years

Text

Horny HC

Pairing: Bakugo x Reader, Midoriya x Reader, Todoroki x Reader, Shinso x Reader, Hawks x Reader

Warnings: nsfw subjects, choking, spanking, spitting, hair pulling, language as vulgar as my mind, degrading, daddy kink.

A/N: Count on me to make my first ever post spicy. All characters mentioned in this are aged up to 21+. I hope y'all enjoy reading this. (Also i made these headers myself - not the chibis - so sorry if they shit, I tried :)))

Requests are open. Please send lol, imma run out of ideas.

So for my first set of hc I took the 5 heroes I had the most ideas for but I’ll definitely do hc’s for the rest as well. Also i love the villians so lmk if you guys want me to do a part 2 of this for them or any of the other heroes!

This man

This.Man.

He's gonna blow your back out. No cap.

I mean you see the way he treats his friends, you can't tell me he won't be daddy in bed.

Speaking of Daddy. Authority kink. It's either Sir, Daddy or Master. Katsuki has left the chat.

Bakugou is in charge, and you sure as fuck better know it. If not, he won't hesitate to remind you, teaching you a lesson you won't forget anytime soon.

100% brat tamer.

Bakugou loves putting you back in your place when you step out of line. He lives for the sound of your pleas and apologies as he reminds you of where you belong; on your knees right in front of him. ( that sounded so sexist pls don't come for me )

Punishments come in the form of spanking and edging for hours on end. He's not scared to manhandle you.

You gasp at the harsh feeling of your back slamming against the wall, the feeling of Bakugous hand slipping around your throat sending a wave of arousal straight to your core.

"What the fuck did you just say?"

"I said make me.... Daddy." A cheeky smile makes it onto your face as you repeat your words, but just as fast as it appeared it vanishes at the feeling of his hand tightening around your throat.

" Oh princess, you never learn do you?"

His favorite positions includes him hitting it from the back - he loves how he can just push your head into the mattress or lean his chest against your back to whisper dirty things in your ear. Not to mention the fact that he can grab your hair and pull your back flush against his chest as he tilts your head back so you can look at him while he rails you- and missionary with both your legs over his shoulders. He loves seeing the facial expressions you make while he presses his hand down onto your throat, his cock hitting places inside you you didn't know existed.

Definitely not afraid of quickies. He loves the adventure and danger that comes with the possibility of anyone being able to walk in on you at any possible moment.

Dirty talk: on fucking point.

" You like that baby? Yeah? You like it when daddy fucks you hard like this hmm? Tell me how much you love this. Tell me how much you like daddy pounding into you like this."

You know that kinda whiney type dirty talk tone? Like where their words are kinda dragged out and kinda high pitched? Yes. Yes.

Absolutely fucking loves when you can't speak. He loves how your words can barely slip out in between your moans and gasps, how absolutely dumb you are for his cock.

100% degrader.

Change my mind. You can't.

"That's right baby, yes - fuck. Take that cock. Take that fat cock like the slut you are."

"You like that you whore? You like it when daddy tells you how slutty you look all needy for his cock?"

This man is not afraid to mark you up. Good luck covering up those hickeys the next morning because its impossible. He wants everyone to know you belong to him, and you can bet your pretty ass that he has a shit eating grin on his face when someone notices them.

You can bet he has a shit eating grin on his face later when you try to confront him about it. He’ll also have some smart ass remark.

I can definitely see Bakugo having angry post argument sex. By the time he tosses you onto bed and crawls onto you the cause of the argument is long forgotten, the only thing going through his mind being how he's going to fuck the attitude out of you.

Absolutely loves it if you're loud. He wants everyone to know he's the one making you feel that good and that he's the only one who could make you scream like that.

" That's right princess, let the whole fucking city know who's making you feel this good!"

Definitely gonna have a ton of noise complaints, especially from your roommates if you have any. ( idk why but i picture katsuki sharing an apartment w kiri, sero and denki )

Bakugo isn't really a moan typpa guy, but god he will draw out the sexiest and unholiest groans and growls from the back of his throat.

I also feel like he's the type of guy that guides you through giving him head, telling you exactly how to suck his cock before he just grabs a fist full of your hair and ends up fucking your face.

We all know Bakugou is an overachiever, and this reflects during sex. He wants to make you cum as many times as possible using his tongue and fingers before he sticks his dick in you.

He isn't as romantic as Shoto with aftercare but he definitely takes care of you. He makes sure to go pee as well as make you go before turning on the shower for you both, adjusting the temperature to your liking.

He loves washing your hair for you in hopes that you'd do the same for him. He secretly loves the feeling of your fingertips massaging his scalp but would never admit it.

He's not super lovey dovey after, but he makes sure to let you know that you're appreciated.

"Love you, dumbass."

"Love you too, Katsuki."

All in all, you're in for a good dicking down.

I feel like this boy pours so much passion into it.

Especially with his history with his parents. The lack of love during his childhood definitely shows during moments like these.

With him it's always making love, its never just fucking. Sex to him isn't just an activity to get off or procreate ( cough Endeavour cough) its a show of both your love for each other, a moment for your bodies to become one.

Your pleasure definitely comes first to him. He would want to get you off at least a couple of times before even thinking of himself.

Shoto also struggles with expressing his emotions so this is a way for him to show you how he feels physically rather that having to convey it verbally.

He's all about the physical contact.

He definitely holds your hands during and whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

His favourite position is missionary. He loves the closeness, how he can look into your eyes and feel your shaky breathing while he moves inside you.

It's either that or you on top with him sitting upright with your bodies pressed together. He loves how close he can hold you. His one hand intertwining with your hair as he presses your head closer to his, the other around your back, occasionally moving down to you hip to help you grind down onto him.

Loves the feeling of your chest against his as he slowly moves between your hips, head resting against your shoulder as his hot breath fans over your skin.

He presses a chaste kiss to your lips before resting his forehead against yours.

"I love you so much angel, you're so beautiful like this."

He's also the type to light candles and have rose petals everywhere on special occasions.

But just because he makes love to you, doesn't mean he can't rearrange your insides while doing so.

Just hot, sweaty, nasty, rough sex.

But with love <3

Even during the rougher moments he makes sure to show you how much he loves you and how much you mean to him.

He'd have his hand all tangled in your hair, some of the unholiest noises leaving his throat as he takes you from behind. His eyes not leaving yours in the mirror placed in front of you.

"Fuck. You feel so good baby - just like that, yeah - look at me princess."

He's very observant. He takes note of the things the drive you crazy so he can work your body even better next time.

Because sex is something more intimate for him I don't think he'd be into sex in public/semi public areas.

He doesn't want anyone else to see the gorgeous expressions on your face while you're at your most vulnerable, or the heavenly sounds that leave your soft lips for him.

I wouldn't go as far as to say he's possessive, but this is definitely something he views as for his eyes only.

He’s not a very big fan of quickies for the simple fact that he likes to take his time with your body and give you as much pleasure as possible rather than just get you both off. He’d much rather prefer waiting for you both to get home and properly take care of you.

Shoto isn't really vocal in bed, but his pleasure will still be conveyed through his shaky intake off breath and the ways his face scrunches up when you clench around him.

He definitely marks you.

Loves marking you as his on your most delicate and intimate parts, painting your chest and inner thighs as his.

He loves trailing his hand over them, rubbing soft circles on the hickeys with his thumb. To him this is proof of the beautiful moment you guys spent together.

The most passionate sex that you both have would definitely be when shoto comes back from a long business trip, his hand could never compare to your body. He definitely plans on making up for lost time, keeping you in his sheets for as long as possible.

And can i just say

The aftercare

Top tier.

He definitely runs you both a hot bath afterwards.

Candles, bubble bath and your favourite bath bomb. The works.

Definitely wants to carry you but won't do so if you feel uncomfortable about it.

He slips in behind you so you're sat between his thighs, his one hand interlacing with yours while the other softly caresses your stomach.

Sets up a little cuddle corner next to the fireplace so you guys can enjoy a movie before falling asleep in each others arms.

Sweet baby boi.

One word: shy.

Izuku knows what sex is and what happens during this intimate act. He’s also watched porn a couple of times so he knows the basics behind it.

But that doesn’t stop him from shape shifting into a fucking tomato every time you start undressing in front of him.

When you both first started becoming intimate you definitely had to make all the first moves and initiate it all because he was too shy and nervous to do it himself.

Even if he was horny as can be and needed you more than anything he’d rather suffer in silence than tell you or ask you to help him out.

He’s definitely not afraid to ask you how to work your body right. Deku knows that not everyone's bodies work the same and that what might have felt good for someone else won’t exactly work for you. So he asks. He asks you how to work your body right and he’ll keep this in mind for future reference.

He marks you but not as much as the others. He’ll litter them on more intimate places both because he doesn’t want to embarrass or inconvenience you and because he’s the only other one he wants to be able to see em. He’ll also get really blushy when he spots them.

This man 100% has a praise kink. He loves knowing how good he’s making you feel and won’t hesitate to let you know as well.

No matter how many times you’ve been intimate before he’ll always tell you how beautiful you look, how much he loves you and how much he can’t wait to make you feel good.

As time goes by and you give him more praise he’ll become more confident intimately.

I can’t really see Izuku having any hard kinks for the simple fact that he doesn’t like the idea of hurting you in any way, especially intentionally.

Like if you were to ask him to choke you or something he’d do it beacause he wants to please you but it would still be the softest shit you have ever experienced. Like for example he’d have his hand around your throat but he wouldn't add any pressure and his hand would barely graze your ass when he attempts to spank you.

He would be down for quickies but he’d be a nervous wreck about em. He’d constantly worry about getting caught and won’t shut up so you’ll just have to make him ;)

“Zuku don’t worry we’ll be fine.“ Your lips mesh together as you pull him closer by his shirt, tugging at the hem to signal you want it off before moving down towards his belt.

“ But y/n - chan I just don’t want us to get caught...” A whine leaves his throat as you start palming him through his jeans before quickly pulling them along with his briefs down to his knees.

“You need to relax more baby.” You press a kiss next to his ear before sinking down to your knees. “In fact I know just how to help you do that.”

Before he could even think of a response his hand flew up to cover out the loud moan threatening to slip out of his ajar mouth as his head fell back.

He’s definitely loud during sex.

Without a doubt.

He lets out these whiny little moans and he definitely tries to hide em. They wouldn’t be especially high pitched but they’d still be higher than usual. Can definitely see him as the type to cover them up with his hand but when you let him know how much you love them he’ll blush a little but let em all out.

You’ve seen how attentive this man is right? How he takes every little piece of info he gets into account when he fills out his journal and comes up with plans?

Yeah your body has its own journal.

Joke lol, but Deku is very attentive and takes note of every reaction he gets out of your body with his touch. How your back arches when his fingers hit that spot inside of you. How your moans get louder when he angles his hips in a certain way. How goosebumps appear when he litters kisses down your neck.

Aftercare with him is the cutest thing ever.

Blushy boi again.

He holds you close to his naked body and pushes his head into the crook of your neck to hide his blush. He’ll thank you for not only sharing moments like these with him but also allowing him to be apart of your life.

Now and then you guys take a hot bath together afterwards but most of the time you fall asleep in each others arms, an occasional kiss being placed on your forehead with a word of comfort.

This man will just love on you so hard.

The first thing that pops into my head when I think Shinso and sex is kitten.

He definitely calls you kitten in bed and he is daddy. period.

Like this man is rough. Without a doubt.

He’s the type that’s really fun to tease because you know he’ll punish you later. Especially if you do it while he’s at work.

A gasp leaves your lips when you feel a familiar pair of arms circle your waist, his warm body pinning you against the railing of the balcony.

"Surprised kitten? I thought you would've expected this, sending me those lewd photos while im at work. "

His hands move to grab onto your waist and push you further into the railing, yours grabbing onto it in turn.

His chest vibrates against your back as he chuckles, you can practically feel the smirk on his face.

"Yeah, you better fucking hold on to something."

I also feel like his pull out game is the best. He mostly enjoys cumming on either your chest or your lower back and face on special occasions.

He loves taking you from behind or on your side while lifting your one leg. He also loves sitting on the edge of the bed with you on top of him with your back facing him while he guides your hips up and down.

He loves these positions because it gives him the perfect angle to please and tease. He can easily reach around and play with your nipples but he can also tease you by just stilling inside of you when you least expect it.

It also gives him better access to the most sensitive parts of your neck so he can mark you up.

I feel like Shinso has a very high sex drive. Like i feel like he's down to go whenever wherever, which is why i think quickies with him is almost a daily occurrence. He loves the risk behind it and he definitely knows how finish you off within 5 minutes.

He absolutely loves it when you're a brat so use this to your advantage because it will get you r a i l e d.

A loud groan escapes the back of Shinso's throat, his hand tangled in your hair while he rams into you from behind.

"Is this what you wanted baby? Huh? Me fucking the brat out of you?"

He is an absolute king with his hands and he knows it. He knows how to get you absolutely spent with just 2 fingers.

Definitely jealous as fuck but he doesn't do anything about it until you're alone. He'll act normal up until you get home before pinning you against the wall and reminding you that he's the only man you should be giving attention to.

And oh my god this man can go all night long. He’ll pound you into the mattress until HE thinks you’ve had enough, sweat gleaming on both your bodies in the moonlight as he finally pulls out and pulls you close to him.

He’s definitely very adventurous. He’s not afraid to experiment at all.

I also feel like when he cums he cums A LOT. Like one of his favourite things ever would be you on you knees in front of him, his cock buried deep down your throat as you struggle to swallow everything he's giving you.

Sleepy sex is basically a morning ritual, his hips already rutting against your ass before you've even properly woken up. He loves the laziness of the whole ordeal as well as the closeness. Before you he'd just rub one out before falling back asleep, but now that you're here he can just indulge in you and then fall back asleep. Not that you mind.

Shinso doesn't leave hickeys intentionally. He just gets into it and does it without noticing it. Thinks it's hilarious as fuck when you struggle to hide them and definitely makes a comment about you knowing you enjoyed it so why complain now.

Definitely the type to wake you up and ask you to ride him at ungodly hours.

Member of the suck me off while I'm gaming club.

A little bonus: I can just see both of you going at it and he’s doing you good and then all of a sudden he just stops. Naturally you just assume he’s just trying to be a tease so you buck your hips up in attempt to get him to move inside of you and let out a whiny moan. Shinso would just kinda calmly look at you and go “ Baby... she’s on top of me.” and you’d be like huh???? tf he talking about, and just look up and see the cat you adopted together peeking at you over his shoulder. She lets out the cutest little meow and you both start giggling, taking a mental note to close the bedroom door before you get down in future.

After sex he’d take care of you. He’d clean you up and cuddle you really close. He’d run his fingers through your hair and massage your scalp for you. Will wake you up with breakfast in bed the next morning and a cup of coffee/tea.

Hawks has a god complex in bed and you can't convince me otherwise.

He's the absolute king of oral. He isn't just gluttonous for food if you catch my drift. He knows how to use his tongue, and the way he uses it on your sex is enough to make you see stars.

"Oh god. Fuck, i-i need- oh my god. Keigo, I need mhmmnnmm" your hand runs through his golden locks as you press him closer to your core, hips bucking and thighs threatening to close around his head.

Keigos head peaks up from between your legs, his mouth glistening with your arousal as his hand picks up where his tongue left off. A cocky smile sneaks it's way on his face.

"That's right baby, tell god what you need."

Hawks loves taking you in missionary. Why you may ask. Because this gives you perfect access to his wings. Nothing gets him more riled up than the feeling of your fingers dancing over the base of his wings where they meet his skin. The feeling's enough to draw a growl from within his chest, his hips immediately picking up momentum as he pounds you deeper into the bed.

Just like Katsuki, Keigo isn't afraid to mahandle you.

He loves the sight of your fucked out face as he wraps his hand around you throat, incoherent mumbles the only thing leaving your swollen lips.

He fucks you stupid, tongue lolling out of your mouth and eyes rolling back into your head. The sight of this turns him on ten times more than he already was in the first place.

Keigo will also use his feathers on you 100%.

A small gasp leaves your lips at the feeling of something soft stimulating your sex. You lower your eyes, undeniably turned on by the sight of one of Keigos feathers matching the momentum of his thrusts as his hips slam into yours.

Your eyes travel back up to your lovers face, unable to hold back the moan that escapes your lips as he winks at you with a smirk and picks up his pace.

Undeniably into praise. He absolutely loves when you tell him how good he's making you feel and how he's the only one who possibly could make you feel this way. Definitely gets cocky about it.

Along with his love for praise he also has a love for degrading. He loves the way you instantly start moaning louder and tightening up when he starts calling you his little slut and cocksleeve, it's enough to make his dick twitch.

Definitely possessive and protective as hell over you. Being Keigos sidekick meant a lot of work related arguments about recklessness from both sides. These arguments often times lead to hate sex.

A harsh tug on your arm stops you dead in your tracks as you turn around to come face to face with your fiancee, the scowl on his face giving away exactly what he was feeling before he could even get a chance to open his mouth.

"What the fuck was that." His breath was hot as it fanned over your face, the smell of mint unmissable. "That, Keigo, was me doing my fucking job." "No y/n, that was you being careless! What the fuck were you thinking risking your life like that?!" " Last time i checked that was our job description! We're supposed to be risking our lives to save innocent people, or does that suddenly mean nothing to you anymore?" "I don't fucking care about them I care about you! I have half a mind to remove you from field work thanks to that little stunt!" " For fucks sake Keigo! What are you gonna do?! Tie me to a fucking desk?!"

Within two seconds your back was pressed against a wall, your fiancees hands slamming down next to your head as he moves his face dangerously close to yours.

" Tread lightly princess, or i just might."

Adding to the possessiveness, i feel like Keigo will be one jealous son of a bitch with no shame at all.

Like he'd take you out for dinner at some fancy restaurant to treat you, only to have your waiter start flirting with you. Keigos blood would start boiling, his jaw set as he'd glare at the man flirting with his mate.

As soon as the waiter leaves he'd make some snarky, passive aggressive comments about the scenario before dragging you into the bathroom mumbling " If he can't see who you belong to I guess I'll have to show him"

He'd then proceed to shamelessly pound the fuck out of you in the restaurant making sure everyone, especially that waiter, could hear every single sound the left your lips. He'd leave so many hickeys on your neck. He needs to mark what's his.

"You're mine. You understand me? You belong to me baby, you're all mine." His hand roughly grabs your face making you look him in the eyes. "Say it." He gets impatient, lifting his hand to lightly slap your face, the action drawing a moan from your lips. " I said fucking say it."

Total exhibitionist. You have definitely been pinned against the large windows in your apartment or even his agency, on full display to anyone walking by as he fucks you nice and hard.

I feel like aftercare with Keigo would be little things that don't necessarily classify as aftercare but comforts you both.

After pulling out of you Keigo would lay down next to you, his hands wrapping around your body to pull you closer as his heart hammers in his chest and he waits for his breathing to calm down a tad.

He'd then get up, tug on a pair of boxers and grab the box of cigarettes and lighter on his bedside table before heading out to the balcony.

You'd slip out of bed, putting on his shirt before joining him outside. Your arms would be wrapped around his waist while he smoked, both of you enjoying the slight late night breeze and the sound of the bustling city before heading inside to snuggle up and fall asleep together.

452 notes · View notes

weeb-writor · 4 years

Text

Bakugou Meets his Future Kids

Hiya! Long time no see! So I’ve been gone a while and today I was actually supposed to post the last part in the Aizawa mini series. That wont happen today because unfortunately even though me and my whole family have been super safe and only go to work and home I did test positive for Covid-19. I'm okay though just really drained and this was easier for me to finish. I'm hoping to have the Christmas fic up by the 28th at the latest, so sorry about that! For now I hope you can enjoy this! The kids do call reader mommy but there is no assigned gender! Anyone, any gender can be a mom!

~~~~~~~~~~~

Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

He meets his kids from the future in a troubling way

Words: 1896

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was supposed to be a normal day and it was for about 10 seconds. About 11 seconds in Bakugou had somehow been wrapped into a trip to the mall with most of the class. Bakugou prided himself on being a strong immovable boulder but when you asked could he come… lets say he had a temporary weakness. Now here he was at the food court as you all argued over what to eat.

“Is there a place that sells soba?” Todoroki asked.

“Even if there is, we aren't eating there! You always eat that!” Mina said, pointing at the boy who looked back a little deflated.

“I think we’ll be okay getting soba, his obsession with soba is super cute!” you said with a small laugh. This had Bakugou craning his neck. Only ever eating one thing was not cute, how could you think that!

“Like hell we are, Come on Y/n were getting a burger.” Bakugou said standing and pulling you away you didn't get far before you all heard someone crying and yelling. You and the rest of the class looked at each other once before you dashed in the direction of the cries. Arriving on the scene you see 3 kids surrounding a boy who was crying while one was holding back a girl who seemed to be crying in anger.

“Hey what the hell is going on here?” Kirishima said in a scolding tone. The kids turn around and pale probably recognizing the group of soon to be Pro-Heroes.

“Nothing we should be going, later losers.” The kids said quickly scattering into the crowds at the mall. The girl quickly ran to the boy's side still crying.

“It's alright, you don't have to cry, I have a first aid kit if that helps.” You said trying to console the kids. At your voice both of the kids looked up at you before tackling you in a crushing hug, sobbing even more. You looked up at your class confused; they only shrugged at you.

“Mommy! I'm sorry, I took Hiroyuki from school and we followed you and then we got hit with that big scary guy's quirk and then we ended up here and we been here for like 2 days. I'm sorry!!” The girl cried, rubbing her eyes furiously.

“Uh um sweetheart, I'm sorry you got lost but my teachers will help you. We’ll find your parents I promise.” You said rubbing her checks.

“But you're our mommy.” The young girl sniffled.

“I'm not, you must be confused. I'm L/n.” You said, smiling at them as they seemed to tear up.

“That's not funny mommy, stop joking right now.” The girl said, shaking her head, more tears spilling from her eyes.

“Sorry kid they aren't joking, L/n doesn't have any kids.” Denki said, crouching to meet her eyes.

“Are you mad cause we didn't listen? Are you gonna send us away?” The girl said, beginning to cry even more.

“Stop making my sister cry!!” The boy said with tears in his eyes, the tears were short lived as explosion went off all around them. Everyone looked at Bakugou who was quietly watching

“It's not me, it's one of them.” He said with his teeth gritted. The class didn't have time to figure it out as the explosion stopped and they saw their teacher next to them.

“It’s always something with you guys. Hey kids I'm gonna need you to come with me so we can sort this out.” He said offering his hands to them which they didn't hesitate to take. The walk back to the school was relatively short and quiet. Now they were all sitting outside of recovery girls office waiting on some kind of news.

“I think i know what's happened. They kept calling you mom, right?” You nodded at her with a small smile.

“Well while I was trying to heal them I asked them some questions to make sure their heads were on straight. Their answers were very much incorrect to us but also not completely insane. For Example Dynamight, Deku, and Shoto are all top 10 heroes. The league of villains are no more and I'm dead. I examined their bodies and it seems they were hit with a time travel quirk from the looks of it. Not sure when it will wear off but my best recommendation is for them to remain under L/n and Easerheads care, I will check for any signs of it wearing off, every other day.”

“Huh? Is Easerhead their dad! Do you and L/n get married in the future?! That's kind of kinky…” Mineta said with a gross smile

“No, you creepy child. It seems they do like him though.” Recovery girl said with a sigh. You thanked her and went into the room.

“Hey, did recovery girl explain what happened to you guys?” You said as you approached them.

“Uh huh she said we went in the past to where you and papa were students. Like in the pictures on the walls.” The girl said.

“Mhm very good, so can you tell me your names? Then we can go hang out with my friends and eat something!” You said with a smile.

“Hiroyuki…” the boy mumbled.

“I’m Kaori!” The young girl cheered at you. You thanked them and guided you out the door and found your friends and teacher waiting. You led them to the dorm lunge where food was waiting on them.

“So which one of you have an explosion quirk?” Kirishima said as the kids were eating.

“We both do, kind of.” The girl said absentmindedly. “Mom says I make explosions from the heat of the food I eat, I like spicy stuff.” She said with a smile.

“Oh okay cool! But no spicy stuff for you.” Denki laughed at the girl who wasn't exactly happy.

“What about you, little guy?” Sero asked the younger one. The little boy looked at Sero before burying his face in his hands and shaking his head.

“Yuki, has a really cool quirk! Mom says he works like a gas stove! He leaks this stuff that's like propane! Then he can ignite it based on how he is feeling! Angry or emotional means bigger explosions! It comes from his pores or his hand.” The girl chimed in for her brother. He was upset at her words and ran to Aizawa.

“Sorry, we didn't mean to make you uncomfortable!” Mina said as she couched to the level of the boy who further hid his face into Aizawa legs.

“It's okay, kid, Bakugou has an explosive quirk, it's cool!” Denki said with his flashy smile.

“We don't care about that old man's quirk!” The girl said fresh tears on his face.

“What’d you say you little brat?! I’m not an old man!” Bakugou roared back to Kaori.

“You are a mean old man and I hate you! Its all your fault I'm stuck here without my real mom and papa! I hate you! I hate you so much Papa!” The little girl roared back before running back to you crying.

“Papa?” Kirishima echoed quietly.

“Kaori, you shouldn't yell at people or tell them you hate them it's a mean and strong word.” You said crouching down to her level and stroking her cheek.

“B-but it's all his fault. He said me and Hiroyuki were weak and and we couldn't do much because we're kids and it's best for us to stay out of Hero’s way! Like were burdens!” She said growing further agitated.

“And I was right, you followed your mom and you both got hurt when you shouldn't have been near the battle anyway.” He said with a frown.

“But that doesn't mean we are useless and can't do anything by ourselves! WE ARENT DUMB!” She yelled back at him.

“Future me didn't say you were dumb, he, I just want you to be safe. It's best for you and your brother to stay out of the way for now. However, that doesn't mean your a burden or dumb.” Bakugou said seriously. The little girl didn't say anything further and just threw herself into her your arms. Hiroyuki came from in between Aizawa’s legs and also threw himself at you.

“Okay enough mingling for today I guess, time for bed! I’ll be right back guys.” You said as you carried both kids off to your dorms with surprising grace. Once you were gone the group turned to Bakugou.

“Papa, huh Bakugou?!” Denki said with a chuckle.

“It's too surprising! I didn't even know you had a crush on L/N!” Mina said with a pout.

“Really? it was pretty obvious Bakubro had a crush though. Literal tiny explosions go whenever L/n is near.” Kirishima said with a cute head tilt.

“The hell they do.” Bakugou said angrily.

“No they do, I’ve had to stop them a few times now.” Aizawa said with his weird grin.

“I can't believe it though, they are so cute! Kaori is so much like you and I cant believe Hiroyuki’s quirk is so kickass!” Sero said rubbing the back of there necks.

“Well of course they got kickass quirks. With me and L/N as parents there’s no way they wouldn't!” Bakugou said flushed red.

“I'm just glad you cleared up everything with them. It would be pretty bad if they went back mad at the future you, or thinking something damaging like that.” Deku said with a sigh. Finally you were back with no kids, at least it looked like you didn’t have kids.

“So this parenting shit is pretty hard!!” You said as two figures came from behind your legs. They blushed before pointing to Bakugou and then back at your dorm.

“Use your words.” Bakugou said, cocking an eyebrow at the flustered kids.

“Story, Papa.” Hiroyuki slurred out.

“I'm sorry for saying I hate you… I didn't mean it.” The young girl said softly

“You better be, that's a strong word. Now let's go to bed.” Bakugou said nonchalantly as he picked up both kids and walked back to your dorm. The kids remained with you two for about a week and half. You learned lots like you and Bakugou have twins on the way and still want at least one more. Hiroyuki loves Aizawa because he is able to keep his quirk under control around him and they both have an addiction to cats. Bakugou is indeed amazing at everything except anger management. When they left it was during one of your cuddle sessions and boy did you cry like a baby.

BONUS:

“It’s been almost 2 weeks, where could they be?? What if they’re…” You said into Bakugou's chest.

“They’re fine, okay? Our brats are tough so wherever they ended up in time doesn't matter they’ll kick anyone's ass.” Bakugou said, trying to console you. You didn't get a chance to respond before you dogs went crazy at the knock at the door. You yelled for however it was to come in and you thought your mind was playing tricks on you.

“Don't worry they are just drowsy.” Aizawa said with the two kids in his capture weapon trailing behind him. Bakugou was the first to move and was on his knees, in tears in seconds.

“You idiots! Never, ever do that again.” He said hugging him like his life depended on it.

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou imagine #bakugou fluff #bnha bakugou #bakugou x reader #mha imagines #mha bakugou #mha x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha x reader #domestic fluff #angst

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unhealthyfanobsession · 3 years

Note

Omg I love all your drabbles they are so amazing and brilliant I can’t believe you do that for free! What a blessing you are!! I was wondering whether there would be a part four to the vacation au and if not could you do maybe more jealous Cassian but in your lawyer au I’m obsessed but honestly anything you write has me happy!

This is so sweet I am so glad you’re loving the drabbles! I did a second part to the vacation AU a couple days ago so I’m going to go with Jealous Cassian in the lawyer AU. I already *kind* of did this but I’ve been doing jealousy light lately and this time we are cranking it up to 100. This one is kinda long and pretty angsty and I think I definitely need to smoosh all these lawyer drabbles into a mini story that follows Nessian from meeting while studying for the bar exam and then through snippets of their careers so maybe that’s what I’ll do next.

Actually facing Nesta in court was an extreme rarity. All of her non pro Bono work was strictly solicitor. Drafting contracts and negotiating deals in different chic board rooms with little glass bottles of Perrier and complimentary latte carts trolling the halls.

Nesta thought that she didn’t want to litigate. She thought that people didn’t like her and because of that she was a bad advocate. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

Watching Nesta fight for something that she believed in, truly believed in, was the closest thing to a religious experience Cassian had ever known.

“And I would urge you to consider in your decision, your honour, the fact that even if it should apply in this case, the very law my learned friend is attempting to uphold is currently under review by the Supreme Court and may soon be overturned on the basis of being unconstitutional as well as unconscionable.” Nesta took a pregnant pause.

“If that happens. If this law is overturned, as you well know, it will not be retroactively helpful to my client. My client who was born here. My client who grew up in Queens. My client who can draw you a map of which bodegas has the best coffee vs the best sandwiches and their proximity to the nearest train, and if that doesn’t qualify her as an American, and a New Yorker, then I don’t know what does.” The judge smiled a little at that. It was a calculated risk, the emotional appeal. But Judge Miluski was already on Nesta’s side and she was a born and bread New Yorker and she had the rare distinction of being a member of the judiciary with a sense of humour. “If this law is overturned, which we both know is highly likely, then my client will be sent to another country, a country she has never even been to, not because she did anything wrong, but because this trial happened a few weeks too-”

Nesta trailed off, eyes caught at the quietly opening gallery door. A man stepped in. Tall and thin and… greasy. Hair slicked back with so much product Cassian didn’t think he’d feel it if he hit him on the head with a hammer. Which he desperately wanted to do. That brutish, violent, raised in foster homes in Harlem side of him that even a legal education and a closet full of Armani suits could never quite polish out of him lit on fire at the sight of this creep. This asshole who was wearing fucking asics with his $4000 suit. And no tie. Top three buttons of a pinstripe white shirt unbuttoned. What a fucking rube.

Except that this guy. THIS fucking guy, made Nesta lose her train of thought. This guy who walked into court late and had yet to drag his eyes up from Nesta’s ass, had distracted her. Caused her to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and smile a little. This shy, light, cutesy little smile that absolutely did not belong on Nesta Archeron’s face.

When Nesta smiled it was a sly, knowing, victorious thing that curled across her lips and set Cassian’s heart hammering in his chest.

This… this was insanity.

The man smirked, deep and arrogant, as he stood at the back of the courtroom, hands slid into his pockets. Not even respectful enough of the proceedings to sit down.

Nesta gathered herself quickly. The whole mess over in under 20 seconds, but Cassian noticed it. Even as Nesta went on and cited the law and the competing jurisprudence and the ethics and the constitution, he couldn’t focus. All he could think about was that little smile.

Cassian said his final piece, the judge ruled, as they both knew she would, in Nesta’s favor, and it was all over.

Nesta didn’t even gloat like she usually would have. She just stuck her hand out, the absolute picture of professionalism, and shook his.

“Good working with you, Counseler.” She said, as if he hadn’t pulled her around the side of a building and pushed her body up against a brick wall the other day, moulding her into him as they fought over this case. Discussed their future. Their passions.

She’d rejected his invitation to dinner, but she always did. It was a part of the game. A game that Cassian was determined to win.

“Who’s the tech bro?” The sneakers with the suit and the unbuttoned shirt and the general shitty attitude all pointed to that being the only reasonable profession.

“Babe,” the slimy man in question pushed past the swinging waist high half door that separated the gallery and the space where counsel’s desks sat. “Let’s go.” He wrapped and arm too tightly around Nesta’s waist and pulled on her a little.

Cassian curled his fists into his palms so hard his nails bit imprints into the skin of his palms. Babe? Telling her when to leave? The pulling? No.

“I’m Cassian.” He held out his hand. “ADA. What firm do you work for? Haven’t seen you around.”

“Tomas.” The man scoffed, “And I’m not a lawyer. Not interested in all that gibberish you’re type is always spewing. Sounds like pure nonsense to me. I’m a tech investor.”

Yeah. That sounded about right. No actual skills. Not an engineer or developer or even a business manager. Just an idiot with a trust fund throwing money at whatever looked cool.

“Well, Tomas. Do you know why they call that big exam full of all that gibberish you hate the bar exam?” The weasel just raised his eyebrows. “It’s because once you pass it, then you are an attorney. And allowed to cross past this BAR.” Cassian pushed Tomas back out the little half door again. “Which separates the civilians in the gallery from the lawyers making their cases. So maybe learn how to show a little respect.” Cassian scoffed, flicking his eyes to Nesta, “In a few different areas of your life.”

“What the fuck, bro?” Tomas rolled his eyes. “This is why I fucking hate going to your lawyer parties and shit. Jackasses like this.”

“Tomas, please.” Nesta placed a hand on his chest, Cassian tensed, and that seemed to calm Tomas down. Not Nesta’s touch, but another man’s jealousy.

“Why don’t you bring the car around. I have to work out a court date for another matter with Cassian but I’ll be right out.”

“Yeah, ok.” Tomas glared, keeping eye contact with Cassian as he kissed Nesta’s cheek, hand travelling too far down her back. “Hurry though.”

“Of course.” Nesta smiled that same tiny little smile that made her look like a doll on a shelf and Cassian wanted to scream.

“What the fuck are you doing with a piece of shit like that?” Cassian minced no words as he turned to face Nesta.

“Excuse me?”

“Pretty straight forward question, Nes.”

“You… you don’t know him. He’s not like that once you get to know him.”

“Sure he’s not,” Cassian scoffed.

“What is your problem?”

“My problem is that your boyfriend, who I’ve never heard of or seen before today despite knowing you for years, had a chance to see you in court. Had a chance to watch you all fired up and passionate and brilliant and instead he walked in late, stared at your ass instead of listening to what you were saying, and then shoved his way up here and pulled at you to leave like you were some kind of toy he didn’t mind tearing the arm off of.”

Nesta blinked. Huffed out a breath. “We’ve been on again off again for a while. That’s why you haven’t seen him before. And he just doesn’t like lawyer stuff that’s why he’s like that in here ok? Not that it’s any of your business.”

“So you’re dating someone who not only doesn’t recognize how brilliant you are but won’t even let you talk about your job?” That was wrong. That was so wrong. That was… why Nesta was so intense with him. Why she debated and fought and talked for hours. Because she couldnt do it at home.

“Why do you even care, Cassian? Let’s just set a date and-”

“Fuck you, Nesta.” Her jaw fell open. “Fuck you for even asking me that. You know why I care. You can’t play dumb with me like I assume you do with him.”

“You don’t know anything about my relationship!” Nesta defended a little too vehemently.

“I know you can’t yell at him about his take on immigration laws,” Cassian stepped closer to her. “I know you can’t get a little tipsy off your favorite Malbec and go on a rambling tirade about the corrupt judiciary and your twenty three- or twenty five depending on the night- reasons why voting for judges completely undermines the integrity of the legal system.”

The was almost no space between them as Cassian looked down, gently set his hand under Nesta’s chin and raised her gaze to meet his. Burning with anger and passion and barely concealed desire. “I know that he didn’t understand why you were crying when RBG died. Because he doesn’t care about how appointing Supreme Court judges works or what that meant for the future of the court. And because I know that you weren’t with him that night. You were with me. Just like election night in 2016. And the Kavanaugh trials. And when the travel ban came into effect. You found me. Because I get it, and I care about your thoughts on all of those things. I’m devastated by them too. You were with me, Nes. And don’t you dare pretend that doesn’t mean anything.”

“It does,” Nesta let her cheek sink into his palm. “It means everything Cassian, but…”

“But we fight,” he smiled. “We bicker and yell and cross ideologies and disagree on all the little things. But not the big things, Nes. Never on the big things. We disagree on how to change the world, not what we want to change in it. Isn’t that what matters?”

Nesta swallowed. “I can’t risk losing you.” She said quietly. “I need you. For all of those reasons, I need you to be in my life and if we… I hurt the people I love, Cassian. So if I let myself love you, I would only hurt you. And I can’t bear the thought of hurting you.”

“So you date him.” Realization was an arrow sailing into Cassian’s chest. “Because you won’t hurt him. Because you could never actually love him.”

Nesta swallowed. “See? See how awful I am?”

Cassian moved his hand to her back, pulled her into his chest. “Go,” he whispered. “Go do whatever you need to do. I’ll be here. And I’ll be waiting for you to realize that I’m not going anywhere. That I can take it. Whatever you want to throw at me, I can take it, Nes.”

#nessian #nessian fanfiction #nesta archeron #acosf #cassian #nesta and cassian #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #acotar

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 3 years

Note

My friend is a big fan of you as well and asked me to request this:

A Janus fic based on the song Monster by Dev https://youtu.be/5iA_oFDNt9E

I think the song could fit him quite well, maybe with the others being like “out of all of us, h i m???”

-🦑

Songfic?? With Janus angst?? My time has come *ascends*

CW: Unsympathetic Light Sides (they're not assholes but they're basically unsupportive, concerned for Reader, and hateful/distrustful of Janus)

...........

Call the doctor, call the doctor Must be something wrong with me He's a monster, why do I want ya Please tell me, please tell me

"What?!! [Y/n] this..this cannot possibly be true!"

"Roman-"

"You could've had any one of the fine gentlemen here...but more importantly me.."

"Roman, just calm-"

"And yet you chose him?! That wretched slimy snake?!" The princely Side pointed rudely at Janus, who was just sitting on the couch beside you. He frowned as he fiddled with the chain of his capelet, finding more interest in that than the uncomfortable conversation currently taking place.

This wasn't even the direction you nor him expected it to take. It was already going south..straight towards hell.

All because Remus couldn't keep his mouth shut and blurted out the revelation that you and Janus were dating.

Ironically, he was the one who confessed to you first--something that you're certain no Side would ever believe.

"There's got to be something wrong with your head." Roman shook his head in dismay, before approaching you. "Come now. We'll find you a true Prince Charming! One that's not a vile fibber like-"

Suddenly you sprang up, moving away from him. "You don't get to choose who I fall in love with. Remus.." You glared at the dark half of creativity. "I'm gonna kick your ass if you don't leave right now."

"Do ya promise~?" He giggled, refusing to acknowledge the seriousness of the situation. "You know I'm into that."

"Let it go, [y/n]." Janus tried to assure you. "They're both bumbling fools."

"A fool?!" Roman gasped. "The only fool here is YOU!! Trying to tempt them with your false promises of love and affection! What do you know about romance?!"

"Apparently more than you." You interrupted, standing by your lover in a defensive manner. "I know this isn't exactly how I planned to tell you but god just calm down for a minute."

You definitely didn't anticipate this kind of freakout from him. You thought he'd be asking about the how's and when's of falling in love, as one would expect from the "romantic expert" of the Sides.

You had a plan to tell all of them individually, but..starting with the guy who was deceived most and openly mocked his name probably wasn't a good idea.

Eventually the two halves of creativity left you both alone. And only then did you sit back down next to the now-dejected Janus, holding his hand. "Sorry you had to hear all that."

"Oh don't worry, it'sss new to me." He muttered, squeezing your hand in turn. "I'm sure Roman will have a tough time realizing he's definitely the most handsome one around here." The smirk he gave made you chuckle.

"Yeah, well..he'll get over it. We got off on the wrong foot with him, but I'm sure the others will be more accepting."

He's a monster He's a monster That boy, he's a motherfucking monster But I love him, yeah I love him Ooh ah, ooh ah ah

"Seriously? That guy?"

"Just hear me out, Virgil-"

"Oh I've heard plenty. I'm just warning you that it's a bad idea." Virgil huffed as he put his phone down. "He's a monster who's gonna use you for some selfish gain. You've seen it. He only cares about himself and hurts people to keep it that way."

"I know you've known him longest but...I'm pretty sure at this point he's moved past all of that." You pointed out. "Honestly, the only one being hurt here is him. First Roman, and now you?"

Despite your arguments, he just didn't seem convinced. "I'm not doing this to give you anxiety...I can only do that to Thomas. And I'm not gonna say "breakup with him right now". I'm just telling you that he's not what he seems."

"I appreciate your worries, but I love him and that's that." You insisted, crossing your arms over your chest as you stood defiant. Obviously it was in his nature to tell you to stay cautious, and he'd probably say the same if you were dating anyone else.

But calling Janus a monster seemed awfully harsh. You haven't even heard him call Remus that, which was odd.

'Seriously why is he being such a prick?'

"..whatever you say." Virgil shrugged before sinking out, leaving you alone by the staircase.

"I wouldn't worry. His opinion of me has never changed."

You realized Janus was eavesdropping and turned to face him, sighing. "Jan, are you doing something that's making them be so... brutally honest? This just seems unusual for them."

"Not that I'm aware of." He had briefly removed his glove, indicating he was tell you the truth.

"Hm..then again, Roman and Virgil are sorta the least-rational ones. One's jealous that he doesn't have a date and the other overthinks a lot."

"Wonderful observations, my dear."

"Patton and Logan are more down-to-earth and clear-headed so they might have more understanding."

"I'm sure they will." Janus' tone didn't match the optimistic words he uttered as he slipped the glove back on. "Oh and..I'll try not eavesdrop anymore."

Little did you know, that would be two lies.

Most people are scared When they look him in the eyes, all they see is fear (but) Let me make this clear I want him near

"How can you look into his eyes and..and.."

"Go on."

"And not be scared?! I know I would be, kiddo."

"...Patton, is that seriously your only argument? That he looks creepy?"

"No, no! I just..." For a moment the fatherly Side paused, before he sighed and patted your shoulder. "Listen, I do think you're being a good influence on that wriggly snake but...I only worry he's being a bad influence on you. Every time he's near you I-"

"It sounds like your only argument is "he's a creepy crawly snake so I shouldn't trust or love him". Is that all?"

"It's...a bit more complicated than-"

"It's a yes or no, Pat."

"...I'm trying to look at the bigger picture and, sure there's some good in him but..I worry he's gonna hurt you in the end, that's all. Like he hurt us several times by impersonating us." He tried to reason, but you just brushed his hand off your shoulder in disbelief.

"Wow, I didn't think you'd be one to judge books by their covers." You frowned slightly. "Well let me make this clear: I want him near me. I feel safe around him. I love him, outward appearances and all. So if you can't accept the way I see him then...we're done here."

With no more defenses, Patton sank out as you left the room. But in the hallway you spotted a familiar capelet vanish around the corner, and you found Janus, who manifested a brown eye contact over his snake eye. His scales almost vanished under his skin, but you called out to him before they could disappear entirely.

"Janus? I thought you weren't going to-"

"I..n-never expected Patton of all people to say that.." He held the side of his face shakily, keeping his head lowered so you didn't see the gradually forming tears. Only now he was starting to feel the impact of everyone's words. "If..it's my looks then...I can surely make adjusssstments.."

"No, sweetheart. You don't have to change your looks or be anyone else for me." You cupped a hand over the one that still covered the scales. "C'mon. You can't seriously believe Patton's dumb reasoning, right?"

"........."

All you got was a silent nod.

Most people can't sleep Feeling he's out, on the streets (but) He is my creep He is my creep

"While I see your relationship to Janus is beneficial-"

"Actually, nevermind. You're just gonna tell me the same shit everyone else did."

"...now [y/n], remember what we've discussed on cognitive distortions-"

"Jumping to conclusions? Overgeneralizing? I know. But I have valid reasons for those. You all think Janus is gonna hurt me because he's some "freaky selfish snake". But he's not, alright? He's been more truthful with me lately and I'm sick of the others not believing anything we say. So please, Logan..can you take my side for once?"

Logan was surprised by your outburst. He didn't even know you've talked to the others about Janus and assumed he'd respond in a similar fashion.

But he adjusted his glasses and looked at his notebook, all traces of emotion vanishing. "Logic can't take sides. If you would just listen..I've observed that your interactions with him have been generally positive, and that's helped Thomas-"

"There you go again..why does everything always gotta lead back to Thomas? Can't you just recognize Janus as his own person without assuming I'm only dating him to help-?"

"Because he can't be distracted from his core function!!"

You jumped a bit as he slammed down the notebook, scowling at you with a slight orange tinge behind his glasses. Though it was quick to disappear as he sighed. "He can never be his own person. You two will never have a truly normal relationship. I only advise that you keep that in the back of your mind."

And just like that, he left.

Every discussion you've had with a "Light" Side only left the bitter taste of frustration in your mouth...

Now what should you-?

You were startled again as you heard a nearby door slam shut, before realizing who overheard this conversation.

"Shit."

Is he human, does it matter I know he's what I'm after I can reel him, from disaster I know

"So..th-that's how they all see me, huh? A monster..n-not even a person."

"Jan.." Joining your boyfriend on the king-sized mattress, decorated in black and gold much like himself, you could finally see those walls he built up now crumbling to pieces.

One way or another, he heard what every Side had to say about him. And it was more than enough for him to realize they not only shun him for simply existing..

But they refuse to accept the idea that he's worthy of love, too. He can take the name-calling and insults in the videos, but this is what truly broke him.

He just scratched at his scales, his human eye already red and raw from crying as he wondered why you went through all of this just for him.

Any sane person would listen to the others and just breakup with him. He wasn't worth the effort.

You clearly deserved better.

You deserved someone who's more handsome, chill, kindhearted, or sensible-

"I know you can't truly be human but..does it matter?"

"...does it?" He sniffled, leaning into your touch more as you ran a hand through his hair. "Because apparently not. I know I'm not a perfect, flawless individual..I-I don't expect any of us to be. But if only I-I never-"

"Jan..you can't focus on what you can't change. I know you feel guilty, and if the others can't see that...it's their own fault. I won't stop fighting for us and for your happiness. I love you, okay?" Turning to him fully, you cupped both sides of his face and looked into his eyes.

"And in case you think I'm lying, I'll say it again: I. Love. You. None of their words will change that."

Hearing you become so determined to love him despite all odds made him sob again, this time from relief, as you put your arms around him.

Nobody's ever taken his side on anything...and certainly never defended him the way you did.

You felt several extra arms manifest to hug you back, and you smiled, closing your eyes.

Maybe in time the others will understand. But while it's true he looked like a monster and had his deceitful ways..

You knew what you were after.

And so did he.

Call the doctor, call the doctor Must be something wrong with me He's a monster, why do I want ya Please tell me, please tell me

#clanask #squid anon #sanders sides x reader #sanders sides imagine #janus sanders x reader #janus sanders #angst #hurt/comfort #songfic

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theoreticslut · 4 years

Text

George x short fem reader

Requested by @pastanest

warnings: fluff

A/N: this request is so freaking cute! It made me so happy to read and then try to figure out how to write. I, myself, am a pretty short person at around 5′4 so george would still tower over me which i would honestly love to experience but we don’t need to get into that right now. anyways, this is just fluffy with a bit of a protective reader and its cute. I hope you like it!! also, pls don’t judge some of my curses; I’m well aware some of them are questionable...

Dating a giant is fun; you always have someone to completely smother you when cuddling, when you steal their shirts you know they’ll always be long enough, and you’re favourite part of it - you always feel safe because you have a bloody giant as a boyfriend to protect you.

The only downfall you’ve come to find is how many people like to criticize your relationship solely due to the height difference.

You and George have been dating for nearly a year and you’ve lost count of how many comments have been made that you’re too short to be with him. At first it was fine, people just pointing out the obvious, right? After a year of it though, you’re tired of hearing it. You and George love each other and you’ve never given anyone a reason to think you weren’t good together, yet people continue to joke about how you won’t work out due to just how short you are compared to him.

You were honestly starting to wonder if maybe everyone else was right. Maybe you and George really weren’t going to work out.

“Princess, what are you thinking about?” George asks, noticing how distant you’ve become over the last half hour or so while hanging out.

“Hmm? Oh, nothing important.” You give him a small smile, your cheeks tinting a light pink.

“So I’m nothing important?” He playfully pouts, giving you those puppy dog eyes you can’t ever refuse or ignore.

You chuckle and smack his bicep causing him to laugh and pull you closer.

“You know I’m only joking, sweetie. But in all seriousness, what’s got you so down?”

“It’s dumb.” You chuckle, blushing and looking away.

“I love dumb.” George smiles, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“It’s just, I don’t know, does it ever drive you crazy how many people say we won’t work out?” You ask, frowning and not wanting to meet his gaze.

It’s a dumb question; you knew it didn’t bother him. Hell you’d be surprised if he even paid any attention to it. You were just feeling insecure.

“What are you talking about, love? Who’s been saying we won’t work out?” George asks, frowning at how obviously upset you are over this.

“Well, no one in particular really...” you trail off, glancing up at him frowning as you fidget with your hands.

“It’s just, well, ever since we’ve been together people keep saying I’m just too short for you, and because of that we won’t last.”

George watches as you explain all of this, watching as you fidget with your hands and how you will barely look at him. He notices how flushed you’ve become just by bringing this up. He smiles, loving how adorable you are. He couldn’t care less how short you are compared to him because there’s so much more to you than your mere 5’ height. True he was over a foot taller than you, but it came with so many benefits that he couldn’t understand how anyone would talk down on the height difference.

“Princess, will you please look at me?” He urges, gently trying to lift your chin with his finger.

You sigh, feeling shaky as you do, immediately finding yourself lost in his eyes as he smiles at you.

“Princess, I don’t care how many people tell us we won’t work out. You know why?” He asks, looking into your eyes, trying to read the emotions that swirl within them.

“Why?” You mumble, not sure if he could even hear you.

“Because what they say doesn’t matter. Not one bit. They say we won’t work out because of our heights? That’s pure hippogriff shit.” He says, causing you to chuckle at his wording. If there’s one thing George weasley is good at, it’s making you laugh.

“They’re jealous, princess. That or they don’t know the joy of dating such a short person. Do you know what I love most about you?”

“What do you love the most?” You ask, trying to hold back a smile as your boyfriend keeps his gaze locked on you.

“I love how small you are. I love that when we cuddle I can literally wrap my body around the entirety of yours. I love having to crouch down to be eye level with you. It’s so much fun! Why else do you think I do so all the time?”

You let out a small chuckle as he pulls you up into his lap, making you straddle him so you can look at him.

“I love how when I pick you up you wrap your legs around me so you know you’re at least holding onto something because you can’t reach anything else. I love when I give you piggyback rides and you’re so amazed at how different everything looks from my height. It’s the cutest thing to watch how excited you get.”

“But I think my absolute favourite thing is when you wear one of my shirts and it looks like a dress on you. Or when you steal one of my jumpers and it looks like it’s swallowing you whole. I love that.” He chuckles, remember the first time he saw you in one of his jumpers.

He was honestly worried how you’d be able to handle anything because not only was the top itself long on you, but the arms were so much longer that’s yours and you refused to roll it up. You barely had any functionality to your hands because every time you went to reach for something, it was just sleeves.

“And even though you are shorter than me, there’s so much more to who you are and why I love you that being short becomes so insignificant in the big picture I’m not sure why anyone would judge this on the mere height difference.” George states, smiling at you and admiring how happy you look now compared to a few minutes ago.

“I love you so much, George.” You smile, kissing him as he wraps his arms around your waist.

~.~

Since your talk with George about the whole height difference between the two of you, you’ve been more than happy and it’s been easier than ever to brush aside the comments.

However, you’ve been having a bit of a rough week. You haven’t gotten much sleep since you’d been studying for a few different tests your professors decided to give at the same time.

You haven’t been able to spend much time with George lately as he’s had quidditch practice nearly every night to prep for the big game between gryffindor and slytherin.

Then on top of it, this ravenclaw boy, Alec Newton, has been trying to get under your skin for the last few weeks by either taunting you or criticizing your work or even trying to make fun of your appearance.

“Hey y/l/n! Wait up.” You hear him call.

“What do you want Alec?” You sigh.

“How is everything going with weasley? I haven’t seen you two together a lot lately. Has he finally realized you’re too good for him?”

“What’s it matter to you?” You ask, not having the energy to care about this conversation.

From down the hall, George is watching this play out, annoyed himself at how much it seems this Alec guy is annoying you.

“Well, if you’re single I’d like to take you out? I mean, don’t you think you deserve someone you don’t have to look up to. Someone who you can meet eye to eye with.” He asks a bit too smugly for your liking.

George gawks at this dudes bravery. Just because you and him haven’t been seen together much this week he suddenly thinks he can make a move on you? He’s nearly ready to storm over and save you from this asshole when he notices you start to get angry.

He stops solely to see how this will continue to play out. George has rarely seen you get angry and he’s curious to see what you’re like.

“Excuse me? Are you saying that George doesn’t deserve me? And because of my height?” He can hear you ask, clearly disgusted with how this dude could possibly think that was an acceptable conclusion. He notices how you start to position yourself in a fighting stance, your hand tightening around your wand handle.

“Well, yeah. Wouldn’t you like someone you could-“

“What I would like, Newton,” you say, pointing your wand at him to emphasize your point, “is for people to stop pointing out the height difference between George and I.”

You buzz with the rush of adrenaline fighting gives you, not caring that you cut him off nor realizing who you have as an audience. All you care about in the moment is how annoyed you are at Alec and everyone else who has ever said you and George aren’t going to work out because of the height difference.

“There is more to our relationship than just our heights. In fact there’s more to us as people than just our heights. If you can’t see past that then I feel really sorry for how much of a ignorant worm you truly are.”

“But-“

“And truthfully, our relationship is of no bloody concern to you now is it? We’re not dating you, you mangy dragon, we’re dating each other.” You point out, waving your wand around animatedly to make your point.

“And furthermore, what makes you think I would go out with you of all people?” You hiss, pointing your wand directly at his throat as if threatening to cut off his head.

“You’re annoying and rude. You go around telling people that their boyfriend doesn’t deserve them when you know absolutely nothing about the relationship to begin with.”

“You pretend you’re some big hotshot that all the girls want, but in all reality you’re a sorry excuse of a wizard. You barely pay attention to classes, you can’t tell the difference between dittany and gillyweed, and your spell casting is so weak I’m surprised you can even cast lumos.” You continue, not giving him a chance to speak as you continue waving your wand around as you talk.

“I-I’m sorry.” He states, a bit scared at how harsh you’ve become as well as how you’re carelessly waving your wand around. He’s well aware of how intelligent you are and knows that you could jinx him without really thinking about it.

“Oh you’re sorry? Well that’s just great for you, isn’t it? You wouldn’t have to be if you hadn’t opened your bloody mouth to begin with now would you?”

“You’re lucky I don’t hex you right here on the spot for being such an annoying rotten mandrake. If I ever hear you saying George doesn’t deserve me again, I will not hesitate to vanish you from existence. You understand me, Newton?” You threaten, your wand at his throat.

“Understood, y/l/n. Again, I’m really sorry.” He says, visibly shaking at the threat of being hexed.

“Now get out of my sight before I change my mind and hex you anyway. I don’t want to hear from you again, and I better not hear anything about George from you either or I will personally hunt you down and kill you myself.”

“Y-yes. You won’t hear anything, I promise.” He stutters, hurrying away the second you lift your wand from his throat.

Once he’s run off you sigh, trying to calm yourself down. You relax your shoulders and run your hand through your hair.

“You’d really hex that ‘ignorant worm’ for me?” You hear George chuckle from beside you, jumping as you didn’t realize he had been there.

“Y-you heard all of that?” You ask, blushing as you’ve never let George see you get angry. You didn’t like when you did. You’d much rather try to keep the peace and fight only when absolutely necessary.

“Heard and watched it, princess.” He smiled, pulling you into his side, ruffling your hair a bit.

“Oh Merlin. I’m sorry, George. He just- he was being so annoying. Has been for weeks.” You sigh, trying to justify you threatening him.

“No need to apologize, princess. I thought it was pretty hot myself.” He smiles, watching as you look up and blush at his words, your eyes wide at the statement.

“I never realized just how feisty my girlfriend is, and I have to admit I quite like it.”

“Seriously George?” You groan, feeling like he was just teasing you now. You start to pull away from him to walk back towards the common room.

“Seriously!” He chuckles, grabbing a hold of your hand and pulling you back to face him.

“I’m glad you think I deserve you, if you didn’t I’d start questing how good of a boyfriend I really am.” He jokes, causing you to roll your eyes at him.

“But in all seriousness, princess, that was really hot and I’m glad your mine. It’s nice to know someone loves me enough to threaten to hunt a fellow classmate to his death for me. I love you.” He smiles, pulling you in for a kiss.

“I love you too, George. More than you know,” you smile letting him kiss you again.

#george weasley #george wealsey imagine #harry potter fluff #harry potter #harry potter imagine #hogwarts #hogwarts era #fluff #george weasley x reader #imagines #oneshots #request

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vivithefolle · 3 years

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What are your favourite fanfic tropes/aus for romione?

(I’m gonna try to make my way through old asks I received AGES ago and never answered because I’m a procrastinating lump. Here’s betting I’m going to give up and play videogames all day instead.)

Oh my god, so many.

Okay so as a rule of thumb as long as it’s nice to Ron I’ll read it. I’ll read anything. I have been known to read Ron/Draco and even sacrificed my dignity and everything I stand for as a human being by reading some Ron/Snape stuff. Yes. I was THAT desperate. This is how low I’m willing to go because of sheer love for Ron.

Which means that when a fic will go “oh poor Hermione, poor Hermione who is waiting for Ron to grow up because She can see one day he could be worth it but for now he’s all dumb-dumb and inferior and doesn’t deserve Her perfection :(”, I will be judging. Judging very hard. I may not leave a comment but rest assured, my thoughts are loud enough for me. This is 2010s mentality. This is “haha I’m so like Hermione, not like other girls who throw themselves at boys, I’m so special and girl powery :)” Horribly Bad Feminism. Fuck that. We’re doing better now.

Speaking of doing better. Recently I read something about how Ron is, paraphrased, “the brute of the Trio”, spun in a positive way since he uses his strength to protect them but, but, still... please no? Just no! Just eff no with these takes about how Ron is a hypermasculine dudebro M For Manly™! No, no, fucking no! Just because he’s the Sulfur to Hermione’s Mercury and Sulfur represents the masculine component to Mercury’s feminine one, DOESN’T MEAN Ron is “the brute”! (”the” brute... seriously... who’s the more brutish one, the one who punches a racist in the face or the one who uses a torture curse as retribution for spitting on his fave teacher?)

The way I see him, Ron is a balance, a blend of feminine and masculine qualities intertwined close together. I LOVE that he can swear like a sailor but can only say “scarlet woman” or “cow” when it comes to insulting a woman. Some will probably see it as “hurr durr he sexist he doesnt think women can take it!!!!!!! >8C” but given that those are probably also the peeps who say “HE CALLE D HERMOANI A NIGHTMURRR!!!!!!! DDDDD8″ I’m gonna venture the idea that we don’t care about those folks’ biased, sexist opinions.

Where was I going with this... oh yes! Ok, so Ron can swear like a sailor yet couldn’t insult a girl to save his life. He’s strong physically but most of all he’s strong mentally (to put up with the way his friends treat him for years speaks a lot of his mental fortitude... and to top it off he comes back for more to boot! I’m not sure if that’s more mental fortitude or straight-up masochism though.) When he succeeds at things he gets a bit attention-whoreish but at the same time, you can see that when he’s being complimented he’s all unsure of himself and blushy and shy and you just, dude you can’t handle positive attention because you don’t know how to react to it I don’t know whether that’s adorable or the saddest thing I’ve seen in my life? He’s insecure but he’s always the first to cheer on Harry and Hermione when they’re doing something great, which speaks VOLUMES of Ron’s selflessness and of his actual character: to quote @peetamaellark, Ron doesn’t think “Harry is great, therefore he sucks and I hate him”, he thinks “Harry is great, therefore I suck and I hate me”. THIS is Ron. THIS is why Ron will lash out, not because he hates Harry, but because internally he hates himself and you can’t keep that sort of feeling bottled up for too long before... you got it, you explode.

I. Want. More. Fics where Hermione isn’t this ~oh dear~ Victorian damsel in distress who cries and Ron is the Big Strong Man who holds her with one arm and is stony-faced and goes “I’ll protect you”, please no that was old before it existed, let us have nice, realistic depictions of Ron and Hermione please.

Like, Hermione is more than capable of kicking butt herself. She IS absolutely nervous and scared and cries easily and that’s a vulnerability we NEED, but the fact that she can be super scared and crying but still hex her opponent into oblivion? THAT’s good, THAT’s excellent. It’s a very important message for girls, I think. “You can cry, you can be sensitive, you can be emotional, AND you can still kick butt”. And as important as that message is for girls, it’s also a very important message to give boys, because boys are socialized to “never cry” and that’s super unhealthy. I love Ron’s admiration of Hermione. I love the way Ron hesitates, the way he can be cautious when he needs to as much as he can be reckless and impulsive. I love how he shows himself to be a big softie and a sweet soul. I don’t think that makes him an “emasculated doormat” (to quote a guest I once saw on FFN), on the contrary it makes him an even better man in my eyes. You know why I love the locket scene so much? Because Ron’s tears aren’t ridiculed. Ron gets to cry about the terrible ordeal he’s been put through, and while Harry “pretends he can’t see Ron cry” because it’s more comfortable for him personally, he doesn’t try to tell Ron to “man up” or anything. His reassurance is pretty lousy but he lets Ron cry, he lets his friend be upset, and he doesn’t try to invalidate Ron’s pain. (ok, the “I thought you knew” is kiiiiinda on the way there, but it stops at that and I’m grateful for it).

I like. Seeing Ron distressed. I like seeing Ron upset and be allowed to be upset. I like to see Ron’s pain treated with respect. So when Ron is having a shit day I like to see him get a cuddle. I like seeing Ron go through horrible ordeals and break down and for his breakdown to be properly acknowledged and not turned into insensitive comic relief (ISN’T THAT RIGHT, LATTER HALF OF THE SILVER DOE????). I mean seriously, just imagine GOF, Harry sitting in the hospital wing after Cedric’s death, Molly Weasley gives him a hug and it’s all very sad and angsty. And now picture Ginny running into the room screaming “HARRY JAMES POTTER” and punching him over and over and saying “PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER MAN, PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER” then after two pages of Harry “explaining” himself to Ginny she goes away saying “aight but if you do that shit again you’ll have to answer to me” then Harry’s friends are like “damn she’s spunky huh?” and Harry laughs and everyone laughs and this is how the book ends? How would it be funny? How would it be appropriate? How would it feel like “romance”? When Ron returns in The Silver Doe, he’s been psychologically tortured (”tortured” is the actual word JKR uses, please), we don’t need him to be hurting outside as well.

I want more accountability for Hermione. More “uh hey Hermione maybe don’t do that”. More “hey Hermione you know you think of yourself as a good person buuuut yeah actually if all good persons were like you I’d be very afraid”. More “Hermione please for the love of God educate yourself”. More “Hermione sweetie I love you, but you can’t actually learn everything from books”. CHARACTER. DEVELOPMENT. PLEASE. Don’t be afraid to punch Hermione down and tear her apart the way the best Ron fics maim and torture our poor boy. Just because Rowling treated Hermione with kiddy princess gloves doesn’t mean you have to mimic her.

So when Hermione does a genuinely shitty thing let her own up to it. When Ron is a victim let him be upset and angry, even if Hermione is the one treating him badly. Just because he loves her doesn’t mean he’s not allowed to be disappointed in her or that she’s entitled to his immediate forgiveness. Give Ron and Hermione equal consideration. If you’re brushing off Hermione’s actions but condemning Ron for the slightest mistake, I am sure to hate it.

Okay, uh, so, those aren’t really tropes. Those are more just, guidelines I presume.

Oh, yeah, a trope that annoys me! Ron saying “you’re mine”, “my Hermione” and stuff, and Hermione just swoons and says “yours” and shiz. Ok, once in a while, why not. Once in a while. BUTT. I WANT HERMIONE TO SAY IT TOO. “Mine”, “my Ron!” and Ron swoons and says “yours, absolutely yours”. DO IT YOU COWARDS. FUCKING TAKE THOSE GENDER ROLES AND PUNCH’EM IN THE FACE.

Oh, right, while we’re on the subject of gender roles! Dad!Ron is everything. SingleParent!Ron is mwaaah. Stay-at-home-Dad!Ron is ALKZLDSJDLQSKLFJ <3. AnimalLover!Ron is HHHHNNNGG. Remember, the small gestures, the tiniest, softest acts Ron does (helping Harry get dressed when his arm is deboned, giving Dobby his brand-new sweater, praising Ginny, Luna and Neville when they escaped Umbridge), those are often those unremarkable, unmistakeably kind and sweet actions that tell us who Ron really is at his core: not a guy who’d want power at all costs, not a guy who’d give it all for ambition, not a guy who sees people as possessions, but someone kind who wants to make others happy.

Ok, I was also asked for AUs, so, uh, pretty much every AU is game as long as Ron gets treated with respect? I mean I don’t really care for Mafia!AUs or such but if you can find a way to fit good Romione then go for it I guess. Royalty AU, yeah why not but I often see Ron being made a prince while Hermione is a poor wee servant girl and like. Uuum, we’re talking about the same characters here? Hermione the highly educated girl who keeps on walking over everyone’s toes and loudly talking about how things should be done and is definitely Nouveau Riche, Ron who is a country boy who lives on a farm and is lost in the constant shuffle of his brothers, you think she should be the peasant and he should be the royal? Whaddafack? Oh, and all the “Hermione is a Muggle, Ron is a wizard” AUs that start this way BUTT! Suddenly... Hermione... turns out... to be (wait for it!)... A WITCH! And a super powerful super talented very good one too!!!... yeah ok, yawn. It’s quite scary, actually, how often I’ve seen that plotline, but in the rare cases when it’s Muggle!Ron and Witch!Hermione, Ron never ever EVER (I mean, seriously, NEVER EVER) turns out to have been a wizard, not even a mediocre one, all along. No, when Ron is made a Muggle for the sake of AU he stays a Muggle. But when Hermione is made a Muggle she has to turn out TO HAVE BEEN A WITCH ALL ALONG OMYGAH. I can count on one hand the number of Mugglemione/Wizardron fics that actually stick to their Mugglemione premise till the end - and usually they’re one-shots. (Also I don’t mean “Ron mistakes Hermione for a Muggle because he meets her in the Muggle world and assumes he must hide his magic from her, oh wait she was actually a witch!” fics, I mean genuinely “Hermione has been raised a Muggle her whole life, never had weird things happen to her her whole life ever, then Ron comes in and is a wizard and he does magic and Hermione wonders what it’d be like to be a witch and oh surprise! Don’t worry Hermione, you won’t have to feel not-special or mundane for long, here comes the plot contrivance to tell you you really were in fact the specialest of them all!!” fics.) Fairytale!AU is cool. Very good. But honestly I like to see them swapped around. Ron cursed by a nasty fae to be a Beast and Hermione stumbling upon him? Neat, especially if you don’t go the boring route of “oh let’s just rehash the Disney/the original book with different names and call it a day”. But Hermione cursed by an asshole fae for, let’s say, not sharing books, turning into a Beast, and Ron stumbling upon her as she’s trying to survive in the woods (and not doing a very good job of it)? Yes, brava, chief’s kiss. Rapunzel AU where Hermione’s bushy hair turns into the most impractical, most suffocating improvised ladder ever for Ron? Hilarious. Rapunzel AU where Ron has A GIANT EFFING PONYTAIL OF THE GODS and is screaming “ow ow ow” as Hermione makes her way up to his window cringing and saying “sorry! sorry! sorry! (damn his hair smells good)” on every step? Equally hilarious. Go! Be creative! Please I beg of you

Creature!fics! Oh my god there’s not enough of those, at least that aren’t focused on a bullshit pairing! Soulmate AUs! Give me everything! I’ll even take A/B/O if you insist on making it Romione! That’s how far I’ve fallen from human decency I’ll take anything just give me some good Ron content please I beg of you (Ah and to those that are going to say “Alpha Ron Omega Hermione :)))” well yes, but actually no. “Beta Ron Beta Hermione”? “Beta Ron Alpha Hermione”? “Omega Ron Alpha Hermione”??? HELL YEAH NOW WE’RE TALKIN)

Oh dear god I’m still not finished and I haven’t gone through everything someone stop me.

AND NOW BE CAREFUL CHILDREN, BELOW WILL BE SMUT.

Okay I don’t know if it qualifies as a trope, but. But. A more realistic depiction of Ron is usually what I’m after. All those fanfics that have Ron be “the sexy experienced one ;)))” ravishing “naive virginal Hermione ;))” is just UGH. We spent all the 2000-2010 period having fics like this, mind adding a bit of EQUALITY to the mix???

It’s just... I hate it okay? So many fics read like they’re just projection, writers who are essentially making Ron their big strong sex toy stud who's so attentive and sweet and cherishing, and so it does indirectly ends up as "servant Ron is so devoted to his goddess Hermione, providing pleasure to her while she doesn’t have to lift a finger”. The Dom!SexGod!Ron thing honestly depresses me... Since it's Ron taking care of Hermione, AGAIN. Like, he spends his WHOLE LIFE doing that already. Can we give him a break for once?

In the endI feel that it's less "Romione smut" and more "self-inserting into Hermione smut". In "real" Romione smut I think Ron and Hermione would switch roles according to what they feel like. And honestly I ALWAYS picture Ron being super nervous during Dom stuff, like he spanks her once then immediately he goes "oh my god are you okay?? did that hurt, do you want to stop?", things like that. I cannot imagine it happening any other way. XD Ron is just... too caring, too sensitive to do stuff like hard BDSM and that kind of thing in my opinion. He’s too much of a caretaker. I understand if it’s your kink and you’re perfectly free to project and write the fic you want, I’m not the fun police, but it’s just... I don’t think that’s really what Ron would be like. I just want MORE realistic Ron.

Also I’m trying really really hard to not point fingers here but WHY is it that it’s always “Ron growled” while it’s always “Hermione whimpered” or “Hermione moaned”? Like... you know it’s okay for a man to moan or whimper in pleasure too, right? You know Ron isn’t 110% muscles and testosterone? You know Hermione is allowed to be fierce too? Hermione can 100% “growl” and be dominant and pin Ron to the wall and reduce him to a puddle of goo if you’re brave enough?

(Honestly how sexy would Ron think that is? The woman he loves is half his size yet can pin him down and ravish him. DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG RON HAS WANTED TO BE RAVISHED AND CHERISHED DO YOU KNOW HE’S BEEN WANTING THIS ALL HIS LIFE)

Oooo-kay, so that’s... mostly it, I reckon. Oh also Ron has a gigantic penisraise kink (and a great penis too, but mostly a praise kink). That’s canon and that’s all.

#vivi answers #ask #ron weasley #hermione granger #romione #harry potter #harry potter series #hp fanfic #fanfiction #tropes #au #writing

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cactusnymph · 3 years

Text

Prompt fill #5 for @dimension20alphabet:

Escape

[part two to this]

Usually it goes like this:

The Bad Kids eat lunch together in the cafeteria and otherwise Fabian doesn’t talk much to any of them over the course of his day. It’s not like he’s actively ignoring them, but he’s more on the side of the popular kids. The cool guys. The jocks.

Meanwhile, the others—well, maybe except for Fig—don’t exactly fit the bill.

Sure, Fabian would die for any of them, but somehow the social structures at school still feel restrictive in a way that gives him a hard time moving against them.

Now though, now the unthinkable has happened.

The Ball is ignoring him.

Well, not as much as ignoring Fabian as he’s actively fleeing from him the second Fabian comes into view. At first Fabian thought that The Ball had just forgotten something in his locker when he turned around and ran—ran—in the opposite direction of Fabian.

But it happens again during the first break and Riz is not at their usual table when Fabian joins the others for lunch.

Everyone is looking at him.

“What?”, he asks.

His mood was bad all weekend. After the ridiculous dare he received on Theo’s party The Ball was nowhere to be seen. Both Adaine and Theo—Theo of all people, as if he was The Ball’s friend—followed him out of the room while everyone continued to stare at Fabian accusingly.

Even Gorgug looked somewhat perturbed, like it was Fabian’s fault that a room full of people had chanted about him kissing The Ball. That hadn’t been his idea!

“Hey man, you know, you could’ve said ‘no’ without making it sound like, you know, Riz was like, a slimy ghoul or whatever”, Ragh had said to him quietly.

As far as Fabian knows, Theo and The Ball had ended up making out in one of the empty rooms or behind the house. Those pictures in his head didn’t lead to his weekend getting any better either.

He trained way too much with his mother. He ate so many kippers that Cathilda asked him if he was feeling alright—which he wasn’t, but he couldn’t exactly explain why. He went for a run three times on Sunday and was still feeling on edge about everything that had happened.

In the end he crashed on his bed with sore muscles and a scene of The Ball and Theo kissing playing on repeat in his mind that followed him into his dreams.

And now his friends were looking at him as if he had personally murderer The Ball. With his bare hands. For fun.

“Did you talk to Riz?”, Adaine wants to know.

“No.”

Silence answers him and he looks around the table.

“What? He saw me in the hallway, turned around and ran away!”, Fabian exclaims angrily. His face is getting hot. He hates all this emotional bullshit and almost wishes he could just go back to being his father’s darling boy instead of his own man, because somehow that seemed way easier.

“Oh no. Poor Riz”, Kristen says and Fabian almost loses his shit right there.

Why is it ‘poor Riz’? Why is no one acknowledging what a shit weekend he had? And how fucking dumb that dare was? And how it’s offensive to consider that Riz and Theo made out behind the house while Fabian was being stared at like someone who strangles puppies? And also, he fucking hates it to be ignored.

He is Fabian Aramais Seacaster.

He refuses to be ignored!

“Did you try to text him to apologize?”, Gorgug asks.

Fabian stares at him.

“For what?”

“I mean. You know, because. He looked pretty hurt and like. Isn’t he your best friend?”, Gorgug says quietly and Fabian feels like someone has dropped an iron weight into his stomach.

“I mean, I guess we’re friends, I wouldn’t go as far as to say that, you know—best friends is maybe a little—“

A voice in his head whispers “Why would you say that, isn’t that a lie?” but Fabian doesn’t get to listen to it as Fig lowers her fork and looks past Fabian at someone right behind him.

“Oh, no”, Gorgug says very quietly and Kristen gets up halfway from her chair which leads Fabian to turn around just to be faced with The Ball’s very pale and very unhappy face. For a split second Fabian has the opportunity to notice that Riz looks as if he hasn’t slept or eaten for the past two days, but then he notices Fabian looking at him and escapes immediately.

“Okay, Fabian, I know talking about your feelings is super fucking hard and everything, but get a grip, man”, Fig snaps at him.

“My feelings are perfectly fine, thank you”, Fabian grits through his teeth but he doesn’t touch the rest of his food and instead spends the rest of his lunch break cursing the universe for having The Ball turn up right at that moment when Fabian announced that them being best friends might be a bit of a stretch.

Fabian never really had a best friend before.

Fuck if he knows what that’s even supposed to mean.

Riz always just went ahead and announced it to the whole world after they’d barely known each other for a week and back then it had been completely ludicrous.

Now, though.

Fabian doesn’t know.

He might have announced that toxic masculinity is dead, but the truth is that it’s still hard dealing with all this emotional bullshit when no one ever really taught him how it works. And he’ll rather be shot than admit that. At least for now.

It was hard enough to deal with the fact that he never really did anything on his own and was nothing but a pale shadow of his father, but now that he managed to work through that, everything else was still as difficult as before.

And who the fuck are you supposed to talk to about these things?

His father is a madman flying a dead dragon through hell.

His mother heats up whole cantaloupes in hot pans, because she doesn’t even know how to cook some fucking scrambled eggs.

Cathilda would probably know a thing or two about this stuff, but Fabian has yet to fully grow into the whole Cathilda-is-basically-his-surrogate-mother-and-not-just-his-maid-thing.

And how is he going to explain this whole mess anyway?

“Hey Cathilda, I went to this party and someone told me to kiss The Ball and I was like ‘No, that’s ridiculous’ and now everyone is acting like I’m a complete asshole and The Ball doesn’t talk to me anymore, which is quite frankly offensive, because he always says that I’m his fucking best friend.”

Even to Fabian that sounds ridiculous. And it doesn’t take into account his obsessive thoughts about Theo and Riz kissing or how The Ball might have overheard Fabian saying that they’re not best friends. And his bloodshot eyes with dark shadows under them. And his pale green face with all those freckles.

And...

Fabian decides that school can suck his dick on this terrible Monday and he leaves the Aguefort Academy directly after lunch break instead of going to his fighter class.

It’s not like he needs it, anyway.

He could probably wipe the floor with his teacher at this point.

On his way home he receives multiple text messages from his friends.

“Hey Fabian, where are you? Are you okay?”, from Gorgug.

“Just text him”, from Adaine.

“Maybe Jawbone can help you out, he’s really good at this relationship stuff”, from Kristen.

Relationship stuff?

What relationship stuff?

The Ball is not his boyfriend.

Fabian laughs as he passes a mother with her two kids and she looks slightly concerned about his well being and tugs her children further down the sidewalk.

What if The Ball wants Theo to be his boyfriend?

Fabian stops in the middle of the road and stares at his phone. He doesn’t want to talk to Jawbone. Sure, Jawbone is cool and everything. But talking to Jawbone feels too much like admitting that he might have a serious problem, more so than if he maybe just talks to one of his friends.

For a split second Fabian thinks that wants to talk to Riz until he remembers that that’s not possible right now.

Because Riz doesn’t talk to him. And also Riz wouldn’t want to talk about anything related to kissing or—or—

Fabian stuffs his crystal back into his pocket and turns a corner that leads him towards Mordred Manor instead of home.

Ragh is outside in the vast garden of the manor, wearing a straw hat and some shorts and nothing else while he waters some plants.

“Hey, what’s up, bro?”, he calls over to Fabian, turns the hose and hits Fabian square in the chest with a jet of cold water. It only takes a few seconds until he’s completely drenched.

Ragh laughs loudly while he turns off the water and throws the hose down into the grass.

“You good, man?”, Ragh asks as he walks over to him. Fabian feels like on any other day he might have simply punched Ragh in the face for getting his expensive sneakers wet, but today it just seems like maybe he deserved a shower of cold water.

“Um—yeah. No. I don’t really know”, he says and his voice reminds him of the time when the whole Leviathan debacle went down. He clears his throat and wipes some water out of his face. “Do you—uh. Have some time to talk?”

“Sure, dude. Let’s find a spot with a little more shade.”

Fabian hates the feeling of water in his shoes, so he takes them off and follows Ragh through the garden and into the shade under a big maple tree.

“What’s up, dude?”, Ragh asks and throws himself down into the ground, pulls the straw hat off his head and leans against the thick trunk of the tree. Fabian sits down cross-legged and puts his sneakers to the side.

“So—uh”, he starts and then closes his mouth immediately because he hasn’t actually thought this through at all. Ragh looks at him curiously and Fabian wonders if there is a good and nonchalant way to ask the things he wants to ask. Instead of acting cool and composed how he wants to, what comes out of his mouth is:

“Do you think The Ball and Theo made out?”

There is a beat of silence in which Fabian considers just getting up and running out of the garden and into traffic. This was not what he is supposed to ask.

This is not—

“Dude”, Ragh says and he leans forward to look at Fabian. “You look like you’re about to puke, man.”

Fabian doesn’t feel great. His chest feels like someone installed iron clasps around it and is pulling his ribs tight and his stomach is doing some acrobatics that it’s absolutely not supposed to do.

Why did he ask this?

And what if Ragh says yes?

Why the fuck does it even bother him?

The Ball can kiss whoever the fuck he wants!

“I’m—sure. Fine. Yeah. It’s all—uh. Fine.”

“Yeah, dude, no offense, but like, it doesn’t look particularly fine to me. So—what you’re asking me is. If Riz and Theo got it going after that whole Truth or Dare thing?”

Fabian takes a deep breath, which seems particular hard for some reason. This is ridiculous.

He’s Fabian Aramais Seacaster. He knows how to fucking breathe.

“I—guess?”

“Hm”, Ragh says and leans back again. “Not sure if that’s my story to tell, bro. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sorry you feel like shit, but, like. Isn’t that something you should talk to Riz about?”

Fabian thinks that, if one other person tells him to talk to The Ball, he might actually commit cold blooded murder.

“Great suggestion, seeing as to how he keeps running away from me like he’s afraid I’m going to breathe fire at him any second”, he growls and crosses his arms in front of his chest. Ragh sighs and cocks his head from side to the other.

“Would it like, bother you if they actually had made out?”

Fabian wants to snort and say “No”. What comes out instead is a garbled noise as his brain is bombarded with pictures about Riz and Theo kissing.

“Woah, dude, okay”, Ragh says and he looks alarmed. “Breathe, man.”

Fabian can do that. Breathing is really easy, except that it’s not.

“Okay, dude, Imma just say it now, okay? It’s like ripping a band-aid off!”, Ragh says loudly, grips Fabian’s shoulders and stares at him very intently. “I think you’re totally into Riz.”

Fabian’s brain feels like it’s suffering from a bad case of frostbite. His thoughts turn sluggish as he tries to process what Ragh just said, but it doesn’t make any sense. Fabian is not into The Ball. He’s not in love with Riz. That is insane.

“Okay, so, hear me out, bro. Remember how I was totally in love with Dayne? And it took me like a million years to like, get that? Feels pretty similar to what’s happening with you right now, right? Because we’re like, these manly dudes and we’re supposed to be into hot girls and all that stuff, right? So it doesn’t really fit the picture, but it’s totally fine, dude. It’s all good. You can be in love with Riz.”

Fabian blinks at him. He can hear the words and he can feel the corners of his mouth turn upwards as if to try to form into a grin.

“Don’t be insane, Ragh. I’m not—That’s—“

“It bothers you when he’s with other people because you’re fucking jealous, dude. I’ve been there, okay? And it’s like this weird thing of—you’re not allowed to be jealous because that’s fucking weird, right? Because that’s like, your best bro and everything. But then you keep obsessing about him making out with other people and then it’s like, okay, but what if he kissed me and then you feel really fucking bad, right? Because you’re brain shouldn’t go there?”

For the very first time Fabian imagines what would have happened if he, instead of saying “No, that’s ridiculous”, had actually kissed The Ball.

He thinks about Riz’ sharp teeth and how he keeps chewing on his bottom lip when he’s nervous and the second Fabian’s brain arrives at Riz’ bottom lip it feels like there is a dam inside his brain breaking.

He imagines grabbing Riz and pulling him into his lap, pressing his lips against his and hearing Riz make a choked noise against his lips—

“What the actual fuck.”

Ragh lets go of his shoulders and nods.

“Yeah, dude. Intense, right?”

“But—why?”

Ragh shrugs and rubs the back of his head with one of his hands. Somehow the cold water drenching Fabian’s clothing feels like a blessing now because his skin seems to be on fire.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck—

“Because, dude.”

“But like—what the fuck am I supposed to do with that?”

“I mean. Sounds to me like you should totally kiss your Ball, bro.”

Fabian’s stomach does multiple somersaults.

“But he’s not—into that kind of stuff.”

Ragh chuckles.

“Dude, I love Riz, I really do, but I feel like now that you figured this part of the whole deal out I can just tell you, that like. Riz doesn’t want to make out with Theo or pretty much anyone, right? Which is totally fine, bro, don’t get me wrong. But also, like. I’m a hundred percent certain that he would totally kiss you, man.”

Fabian’s first response is “Of course he does, why shouldn’t he” but then his brain catches up and his skin starts to tingle.

Maybe this is why kissing Aelwyn for the second time wasn’t really working out. Maybe this is what Aelwyn meant when she said “Well, I suppose we’re not a good match after all”.

“Riz... wants to kiss me?”

Ragh nods and grins.

“Yeah, dude.”

“Okay. Well—uh. I have to go.”

“Don’t forget your shoes!”, Ragh shouts after him but Fabian doesn’t give a rat’s ass about his shoes as he takes off.

Maybe he can unpack all of this shit later. Maybe he should actually talk to Jawbone. Maybe this is going to be yet another thing that makes him different from his father and as soon as he has some time to think it through he can maybe arrive at the conclusion that that isn’t a bad thing.

At some point he stops running because he actually has no idea where Riz is. Is he still at school? At home? At his damn office? Fabian pulls out his crystal and hastily types a message to Riz.

“Where are you???? We need to kiss!”

He deletes the last word and types “talk” instead. Fabian watches with his breath held as three dots appear on his screen very shortly before they disappear again. He waits in the middle of the street, no shoes on, dripping wet. People passing him by look as though they’re concerned for his mental state but Fabian couldn’t care less.

Maybe now is not the time to be manly about his feelings if he actually wants to fucking kiss his damn best friend.

“I need to talk to my best friend”, he types.

The dots reappear immediately.

“at the office”

Fabian stuffs the crystal back into his pocket, considers calling the Hangman to drive him over there but then decides that he doesn’t want to wait for him to arrive.

The last time Fabian was in Riz’ office there was a terribly creepy doppelganger of Riz trying to kill him, but he pushes the thought to the side as he rushes into the building, dripping water everywhere as he heads up the stairs.

Fabian doesn’t think he can manage another emotional talk today because the last one left him completely drained and exhausted, but the second that he spots Riz behind his desk ripping some papers in a nervous craze his heart leaps into his throat and goes into overdrive immediately.

Fuck.

He rips open the door and Riz flinches so hard that he sends all the papers flying. Then he stares at Fabian with his huge, yellow eyes.

“Why are you wet? And where are your shoes?”, he wants to know, looking completely confused.

“Doesn’t matter”, Fabian says, rounds the desk and grabs Riz by the shoulders. “We need to talk about Saturday.”

Riz turns his face away and there is a dark green blush on his cheeks and the back of his nose. Now that Fabian knows what his damn problem is he realizes how fucking badly he actually wants to kiss Riz.

“Oh—well. Yeah. Haha, weird, right? Don’t worry about it, it was totally ridicu—“

“I should have done it”, Fabian interjects. Riz’ eyes grow impossibly wider.

“Wh—what?”

“I should have done it. Kiss you, I mean. We should have kissed.”

Who would have thought that the son of the famous Bill Seacaster would die of a heart attack at the age of eighteen while wearing no shoes and dripping wet clothes.

“Wh—why?”

“Because I—“

Fabian didn’t actually get that far in his head. He grabs Riz’ shoulders tighter and fuck, he can’t bring himself to say the words.

“Because I don’t want you to kiss anyone else”, is what he manages in the end and he watches closely as Riz’ swallows and the dark shade of green on his face grows impossibly darker still.

“Did you mean it?”, he asks quietly, his voice raspy and hoarse.

“Mean what?”

“That—in your text message. About—you know. Being best friends or whatever.”

Fabian takes a deep breath.

“Yeah.”

Riz makes a very small “Oh” sound and then, all of a sudden, Fabian stumbles backwards with his arms full of Goblin. It occurs to him that this is the first time they actually hugged.

“So—uh. Can I? Um—kiss you?”, he asks and his voice sounds like he swallowed a bunch of sand.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

It turns out that kissing someone you’re actually into is better than winning a Bloodrush game, better than dancing, better than pretty much everything he’s ever done before. Riz holds onto him as if his life depended on it and Fabian feels like he won’t let his best friend down anytime soon or he might just fall over and die.

It occurs to him that this must be Riz’ first kiss and something inside him purrs contently at the thought of that as he lets himself sink down into Riz’ chair so Riz is sitting in his lap.

“Thought you were into that Theo dude”, he mumbles against Riz’ lips.

“’m not.”

“Yeah, I get that now.”

“I’m uh—pretty much only into you. So...”

Fabian’s heart is doing a very silly little dance in his chest but all he can bring himself to say is “Yeah”. All the other words that he probably should say get stuck somewhere half the way up his throat because his heart is beating too fast.

“So... no more Truth or Dare”, Riz says sheepishly.

“No, definitely not.”

“Cool.”

Very cool indeed, Fabian thinks, as he kisses Riz again.

#fabriz #d20alphabet21 #fantasy high #fanfiction #mi writes #fabian seacaster #fabian aramais seacaster #riz gukgak #dimension 20

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luvspence · 3 years

Text

darling, you’re the one i want

spencer reid x reader

{im not quite sure this is how a song fic works but this is basically stolen from paper rings by taylor swift, i’m using the lyrics as like prompt one liner things?????? idk bare with me}

- 1,3,4 are mainly fluff but 2 is a lot of fighting and bickering

——-

i want to drive away with you

“do you ever feel”

you took a pause in the middle of your thought, spencer spun around in his chair to face you

“indeed, i do feel”

“shut up i’m thinking” you said as you laughed and slapped him on the arm

“do you ever feel like, trapped? like boxed in almost”

he chewed on the end of his pen

“i guess? elaborate”

“well, i love my life. i have no regrets. but sometimes i feel like just running into the streets and screaming and keep running and never stopping? just fleeing in a sense”

“yeah, i get that. sort of an intrusive liberating type thought”

“exactly” you said tapping your finger to yourself head, a few seconds of silence passed before you spoke again

“i want to drive away with you”

spencer looked at you in confusion

“you’re all i need, seriously. i love everything in our lives right now i do, but i could go without all of it, besides you”

he rolled his chair up next to your and caught your hand in his

“i’d get up right now, keys in the ignition, and i’d drive into nowhere with you y/n. you’re it for me”

——

i want your complications too

you chased spencer up the stair way

“spencer!”

he turned around

“listen to me would you? every time i open my mouth it seems that you turn off your ears”

“i’m all ears y/l/n” he said, giving you more attitude than necessary, but you were having a hard time getting through to him

“that was unbelievably stupid! you could’ve gotten yourself killed! spencer this isn’t the first time, let alone the second, let alone the 7th time you’ve put yourself in harms way! this is so dumb spencer you understand this shit but you still are reckless! and don’t give me that crap about calculated risks”

you were fuming at him

“so what i’m alive, so is our victim what more do you want?”

“why are you turning this on me? i don’t want shit from you spencer! it’s not what i want! it’s your life! my god i shouldn’t have to justify to my colleague, god to my friend why i care about them being alive!”

“well i am alive. so i don’t know why you’re so bothered y/n it’s like your my mother or something” he said as he continued walking up the stair case

“no, you don’t get to do that. you don’t get to put your life on the line and then treat me like i’m the irrational one. painting me as the villain when i only just care about you”

“why do you care so much?”

“because i’m your friend?! because i love you?!”

he ignored you and resumed walking up the stairs

“you know what spencer? it’s because i love you. it’s because i love you so much that it affects my sleep. so much that i always make you coffee when you come in. so much that no matter what i’m doing, where i’m doing or who i’m doing it with, you’re always on my mind. the problem is spencer, not that i love you, that i’m IN love with you. and even at that you can’t seem to let me in. so i don’t know what the fuck to do anymore”

a tear fell down your cheek as you slammed the door and left

spencer standing dead in his tracks on the stair case. honestly wanting to vomit

you spent the rest of your day scream crying. so many emotions that you couldn’t quite process anything

you were laying on your couch, radio head on your phone, dried tears on your cheeks when your heard the doorbell ring

you go and open it

spencer

“hi”

“hi?”

you stood in your doorway, looking at each other with swollen eyes

silence, 2 seemingly frozen bodies

until spencer opened his mouth

“look, i’m sorry.”

“yeah me too”

you were sick of him, sick of how he couldn’t communicate, of how blind he could be. but something about his face was so so good. you were about to shut the door in frustration before spencer started to speak again

“and with what you said, about the love thing...”

he took a big gulp

“i do too. i love you too. i mean i’m in love with you too”

what. the. fuck.

between the shock and the upset you were feeling, there was little part of your heart that warmed when he said those words. you opened your mouth to speak but spencer cut you off

“and i just wanted to say that because i uh i owe you the truth always. regardless. but anyway, i don’t think we should pursue that though”

you stood in your doorway in shock

you didn’t know if you wanted to fight him, cry, or vomit

probably all of the above

you were blank, nothing came to your mouth. you tried to speak, tried to scream , but the only thing that came out was

“what?”

“i’m no good for you, you deserve someone who can be perfect for you. you deserve that truly. and i can’t be that. so i’m sorry but that’s just how it is. i just want you to be happy. you don’t deserve a guy that you have to yell at in stairways, that makes you cry until your eyes swell shut, a guy that cant reconcile his emotions for crap or can’t communicate or anything that i am. so im sorry, but i think this is what’s best for you.” he stuck his hands in his pants

“so bye i guess”

you were paralyzed, a surplus of information hitting you all at once. you couldn’t quite process it but you knew you couldn’t just let him walk away

“you’re idiotic” you shouted as he was about to get on the elevator

“i’m what now?”

“idiotic. no ones buying the ‘i’m not a nice guy’ crap”

“it’s not crap, it’s true. i’m no good for you”

“oh please spencer you’re acting like this is your villian orgin story. first off, who do you think you even are? i’m an adult i don’t need a white man who doesn’t know how to brush his hair to tell me whats ‘good for me’”

“i’m just looking out for you”

“okay, thanks, but i’m a big girl spencer i know how to take care of myself. and even so i don’t even think thats what this is about. you know what i think? i think that you’re too scared to admit that you don’t feel the same way. which is fine by the way, but if you’re to scared to face the reality of whatever your feeling and youre covering it by turning it on me? by saying that ‘i’m too good for you’ thats fucked up and thats that spencer.”

you caught your breath and continued

“because spencer i know you’re pulling all this shit about not being good for me but is that even true? spencer reid we’re perfect for eachother. in every way. and if you’re blind to that than whatever, but i don’t want you to lie to try and tiptoe around my feelings”

“ever since you walked into the bau y/n ive loved you. every word you’ve ever said to me get played on repeat in my head. i love you i would want nearly nothing but to be with you y/n. i love you that much. that’s why i’m trying to our myself above what i want and above whatever so that you can be the happiest you can be. it’s just that i don’t want to hurt you. you don’t deserve that. i never want you to hurt ever. and i can only prevent that by taking myself out of the picture”

“spencer, when i said i love you. it means all of you. i want every side to spencer reid. i want your complications too. it’s all worth it spencer because you’re the one for me”

you two stood there for a couple minutes. it was the longest and shortest time of your life. spencer eventually took a deep sigh and stepped in a step closer to you, looking down at your face

red from the crying, left eye swollen shut, giving him a weak smile

“you’re the one for me”

——

i want your dreary mondays

“thursday”

“no?! the worst day of the week is monday obviously”

“monday is underrated in my opinion”

you were conversing with spencer while walking through the park after dinner

“monday is the worst, it’s so hard after the two perfect days of rest to return the mundane process of life”

“sure”

“so thursday? story behind that?”

“hey have you seen spence?” you asked around the office, only getting head shakes

it was the monday after a long weekend, and spencer has had a less than ideal day

just woke up on the wrong side of the bed, spilt hot coffee on his pants, forgot his satchel at hole

you searched around for him, when you realized

when spencer was overwhelmed or stressed or sad or anything like that, he retreated to the basement file room

no one ever went down there, and there was a closet with a couch in it that was good for taking mid day breaks

you ran down the stairs, opening the door to the closet and sure enough spencer was there

“hey”

“hi”

he wiped his hand across his face, presumably for a tear

“what’s up spence?”

you said scooting next to him on the closet couch

“having a monday”

“i’m sorry to hear that, what’s going on”

“well besides the coffee incident and satchel problem...” he began to rant about how his day was going less than ideal. when he stopped abruptly

“hey, you don’t need to listen to this”

“i dont have to, but i want to”

“are you sure? i’d hate to bore you with my bad day”

“come on spence, i want your dreary mondays something you gotta recognize, is that you’re such an incredible person, that your bad days are better than most people’s best.”

“yeah, perspective right. my worst days are someone’s best”

“yeah, but don’t ever feel invalidated abt your bad days, you always deserve to feel upset, and i’ll always be here to listen to it”

“god i love you”

—-

wrap your arms around me baby boy

spencer wasn’t a touchy person

germaphobe habits

but something about you, he was magnetic to you

no matter what it was, on the jet, in the office, while in line at the grocery store, anywhere and everywhere he always had you in a hug

coming up behind you while you were cooking, wrapping his arms around the back of your neck while you were working

he adored you, and you adored him

after a case, the team decided to hit the local bar, nearing the end of the night, they started to play slower stuff

slower jazzier beats, the dj came on and said

“okay you couples! get up there”

a few couples hand gone up, you were tugging on spencer’s arm to accompany you up there

“well if you don’t go you know morgan will”

derek raised an eyebrow at him, and before you knew it he was dragging you on stage.

poor spencer didn’t know how to dance correctly, he was standing so far from you. hands in each other’s hands like middle schoolers

“jeez spence, wrap your arms around me”

you grabbed his hands, positioning them on your waist, you wrapped your arms around his neck, and leaned into his chest

swaying back and forth, as the sinatra echoed the other the bar and the click of garcias camera could be heard

and in that moment, nothing felt better or more right, than dancing in spencer reids arms

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluffy #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer x y/n #mgg #mgg fic #mgg x fem!reader #fem reader #sr #criminal minds fluffy #criminal minds fic #matthew gray gubler #mgg fluff

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munamania · 3 years

Text

happy hawkins holiday hiatus to @mikewheelerthepaladin !! here’s a lighthearted fic + a playlist of songs i listened to a lot while writing, i hope you enjoy 🥳

& a big thank you to @sevensided for putting this together, it’s been super fun <3

It’s the first time he’s been in over a year, really, but he’d entertained the thought of asking Will over the summer, for one last challenge before he left. It never happened, everything went by too fast; and, honestly, Mike didn’t know how to talk to him with the goddamn weight of everything - hi, we’ve barely spoken in the last year and we just almost died, again, and now you’re moving away forever - wanna hang out?

It’d never been that hard.

And it sucked. The whole thing. Now that Will is gone, it gnaws at him daily that they could have had more time together. Or a proper goodbye, at least. Instead, he spent a lot of time last summer sitting around, figuring out how to approach El and his feelings toward her, and most of all, alone.

But now the Byers are coming home for Christmas. And staying with The Wheelers, on top of it all.

So, seeking some sort of cryptic universal answer to his life problems, Mike returns to the place of a lot of younger memories, of crowding around machines with Lucas and Dustin and Will, a conglomeration of shouting and booing and cheering when one of them topped a high score, of frantically patting down their pockets for a few extra coins.

All of these wistful memories come to halt, however, when he finds a familiar redhead occupying one of their favorite games.

Max glances at him through the screen. “What do you want?”

“Uh, to play?” Honestly, he doesn’t care; he’s not sure he could focus enough to win much anyway. “Kicking your ass would be a plus.”

“Yeah, as if.” Her gaze fixes back on the colorful pixels dancing in front of her face.

Okay, well, she’s not moving anytime soon. He could probably just walk away, but a part of him wants company, even if it’s from someone hellbent on disagreeing with him.

Even when the Party hangs out now, Mike finds himself bickering with Max over what movies to see, where to eat, nearly anything, even when he doesn’t really give a shit. It’s the principle of the thing, and she gets under his skin.

Maybe it’s a good thing.

Mike sighs, leans against one of the neighboring games, and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I don’t really know why I’m here.”

“Well, if you’re looking for me to throw pity money at you, it’s not happening.” After a beat, and losing the level, she kicks at the machine and turns to him. “Now look what you made me do. All your moping and talking - I could’ve beaten that if you would just leave me alone.”

He offers a quarter.

“Forget it.”

“I’ll buy you a pop, then.” She glares at him. “Seriously, okay, this is the first and only olive branch. Take it or leave it.”

After a moment of scowling at him, her arms folded, she slowly concedes, a smug look taking over. “Okay. I’ll take it, Wheeler.”

“So, you’re stalking me at the arcade because… of nothing?”

Mike presses his lips into a line. “I’m not stalking you,” he says, “and it’s not - it’s not nothing. I was gonna ask Lucas or Dustin to come, but… I felt like I needed to be here alone.”

Max sips on her drink. “That didn’t work out.”

“Guess not.”

“So you did need to talk to someone.”

“Guess so.”

God, this is borderline painful. Sitting in a shoddy little booth across from Max, whom he never once intended to have a heart-to-heart with, is a new level of desperation. But here they are.

With the most grandiose sigh he’s ever heard in his life, Max straightens in her chair. “Well, I don’t love giving advice to annoying teenage boys, but I’ve been told I’m good at it. Advice, you know.”

Mike raises an eyebrow. “Was it El who said that, by chance?”

“Bite me.”

Amused, Mike smiles, and he slides the near-empty cup between his hands like a little game, something else to focus on. “Okay, fine, give me some advice.”

Max frowns at him like he’s the biggest idiot in the world. “Maybe give me a situation to work with?” She mutters something under her breath that he doesn’t bother with.

“Well, the Byers are coming home and staying with us, and I wanted to come up with something really nice to do, you know. I know that they’re really nervous because it’s… the holidays have been rough, the past few years.” He finishes his drink and stares at the lid. “They almost refused. So, I dunno, I figured I could do something to make them feel like it’s still home.”

“Oh,” Max nods, finally breaking into a slight smile, “well, cool, you could set up something really romantic for El! She’d love it.”

Right. The girlfriend.

He had no clue where the hell they left things when the Byers moved. About a month ago, Mike called to tell her the distance was confusing and they might need to take a break. He figured she would’ve told Max because, from his understanding, they spoke on the phone on an almost daily basis.

“Sure - yeah, yeah, that’s - it’s a good idea. For sure.”

Max falls back into a confused squint. “Was there something else you had in mind?”

Mike isn’t sure how to get it out without sounding like a total airhead. So he copes with it the best way he can. “You know what, this was dumb. I’ll figure it out myself.” He grabs his jacket and stands to leave.

“No, no, Mike - I want to help.” She’s looking up at him with a genuinely nice expression, holding out a hand to stop him from fully up and leaving. “I’m really good at this stuff, just let me know what I can do. No judgment. I swear.”

“I have to get home tonight anyway,” Mike says cautiously. “Told my mom I’d help with dinner.”

“Can I come over tomorrow?”

He frowns, and something digging at his stomach makes him respond with, “Why do you care?”

Max’s jaw sets. She stands up to meet his eye level and sets a look on him. “Even if I didn’t, even if I couldn’t care less about you, Mike, I care about El. And Will. And I want to be a part of their homecoming. So maybe you could figure out a way to not be a dick about it.” She snatches her drink cup and storms off from the table, leaving Mike to scramble after her with more apologies.

He’s gotta get better at this whole ‘girls’ thing.

He catches up to her outside. “Okay, listen - come over after school tomorrow. We can meet outside by the stairs.”

She barely turns to him, says, “Fine,” and then hops on her bike and rides away.

That’s how Mike ends up with Max in his basement, slowly walking and examining his things, but not touching any of them, thankfully.

It’s going alright, thus far. A part of him feels like he should reach out to Lucas and Dustin, too, since they’re also Will’s best friends. But something about this… works. He and Max can’t seem to stay entirely civil in each other’s company, but she gets something. And she hasn’t brought up El even once since yesterday.

“So, I’m gonna come up with a really cool campaign - well, I’ve been working on it, and I can tell you about it - “ Max lifts herself on tiptoe in his peripheral vision, “ - but anyway, we can pull an all-nighter, if everyone’s up for it, and make snacks and drinks and stuff, and we can have movies on for you guys, and I thought I might even look for some costumes because I really think Will would get a kick out of it. I can put lights up, too - “

“You draw?”

Max’s back is to him, as she’s looking over his wall of posters and pinned pictures. As he steps closer, he realizes her eyes are fixed on a sketch that definitely bears some resemblance to him.

“No, Will sent me those,” he says quickly, not wanting to seem like a giant narcissist, because Will’s drawing is - how can he say it - beautiful. “He’s been using charcoal a lot recently, he told me he got some new art stuff. I think he wants to send one of all of us.”

Max turns to him, and he can’t tell if she’s tearing up for some reason, but she quickly wipes any sign of tears away. “That’s so neat,” is all she says at first. There’s a small silence between them, and she’s just looking at him, and he has no idea what the hell he should say. “He’s such a good person,” she adds quietly, “I wish I got the chance to really know him.”

Mike’s breath hitches for a few seconds. “Yeah. I mean, he mentioned hanging out with you a few times.”

A smile lifts the girl’s cheeks. “Yeah, to bitch about you, mostly.”

“Hey!” he protests, but he can’t help but smile too, this time. This might just be their most pleasant interaction to date. “He never mentioned that.”

“I don’t know how he could, all you freakin’ do is talk.”

“Whatever.” Mike messes with some Christmas crafts on the table, holding them up in his vision to see where they might fit in the basement. He clears his throat. “You know, El and I, uh - we split.”

Max nods slowly. “She said you guys don’t call much.”

“No, we didn’t. I mean, I don’t even call Will, we just write.” He leans against the table, eyes glazing over as he looks over years of memories, dorky craft nights, and shitty school projects that he or his mom made a point to keep. “It’s too hard to talk - to either of them, you know. I didn’t think I could hear their voices without…”

Max cuts him off. “I get it.” She crosses over to the table, helping him pull apart old paper snowflakes. “I’m just the opposite. I’m scared if I don’t talk to them, I’ll convince myself it was all fake. And maybe it’d be for the better, but I’m glad I knew them. Even if only for a little while.”

Mike bites down on his lips, attempting to bury all the emotion threatening to spew out of him. “Yeah.”

Max finally looks up at him, and though they seem to have shared a moment, she snaps back out of it. “All offense, Mike, these are ugly as shit. I’m helping you make new ones, okay?”

“It’s for the memory!”

“No more living in the past.” She raises her eyebrows at him, and he pinches his face in annoyance, so she says, “Okay, you can put them up, in like, little corners, but we’re making new ones. Surprise. Work with me here, Michael.”

“It’s my basement, Max.”

“Did you or did you not ask for my help?”

Mike blinks. “Not really.”

She throws a crafty paper star at him. “Shut up, you’re glad I’m here.”

He shakes his head and moves on, but though he may never admit it, a part of him really is glad.

Weeks pass in what feels like a span of days or maybe hours, with Mike and Max sorting out their surprise plans with a typical amount of bickering - but hey, they get it done. Max has lots of opinions about decorations and music that make Mike roll his eyes, but she’s got a good eye and she offers to help with baking, which is not a strong suit of his. Yes, they throw a lot of streamers at each other, and threaten to storm out every other hour, but it gets done.

And the day is finally here.

Mike pulls himself into his best festive sweater and eyes himself in the mirror. He messes with his hair, though the long, wavy curls never seem to fall exactly into place - maybe growing it out was a mistake - and tugs at the creases of his sweater, letting out a huffy breath. None of it is working with him. When he can’t stand looking at himself anymore, he dashes down to the kitchen to help his mom with desserts.

She smiles when he plops into a seat. “You okay, honey? You seem a little tense.”

Mike jolts. “Uh, yeah, just excited.”

“Good! Joyce said the kids haven’t stopped talking about the trip for weeks.”

Great. “I hope we live up to the hype.”

“Oh, Mike. You know you don’t have to try that hard.” Karen stops frosting for a moment to look at him. “Will’s your best friend. El is excited to see you,” she nudges at him, and he coughs out a nervous laugh, “and Joyce thinks you’re an angel-”

“God, mom-”

“I’m serious. Don’t worry so much.” She leans forward on her forearms. “I know you think every problem in the world is on you, but it’s not. It’s enough just to be around the people you love. If anything, you’ve gone overboard.”

Overboard. Hopefully, it’s not too much.

Finally, he caves, exhaling slowly with a simple, “Okay.” He stays beside her, tapping his fingers, and eventually ruining a gingerbread man’s face until she notices and smacks his hand away.

There’s a knock on the door, and while Mike hops to his feet, his mother calls out, “Come in!” earning a panicked look from him. She mouths, ‘Chill,’ but he still half-jogs to the door and throws it open.

Nancy calls down the stairs, “Who is it?”

It’s Max, brandishing a few small wrapped gifts.

“Hello, sunshine,” she says. After a moment, “It’s great to see you too, Michael, allow me to invite myself in.”

“It’s just Max,” Mike calls back. He steps aside, and Max brushes past him, dropping her gifts by their tree and running into the kitchen.

“Hi, Mrs. Wheeler!”

“Hey, Max, Merry Christmas!”

Mike’s mom seemed to think Max was one of the most charming people on the planet, something they frequently disagreed on, but he can’t be mad at their pleasant chatter right now.

Especially not when the next knock comes so soon.

Probably just Lucas and Dustin, dragging their feet as usual.

Mike opens the door, prepared with a quippy remark for his friends, but his stomach drops immediately.

It’s Will. Holding a bunch of luggage.

Mike is caught up in everything about him. He’s taller. New, floppy hair, tousled and messy in the biting snowy winds. His forearms exposed as his bags push against his jacket. Will.

The boy smiles at him. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Mike manages.

Will looks past him with a tiny wave, and Mike turns to see Max beaming and waving back, and then Max slips back into the kitchen and Will returns his gaze to Mike. “Can I come in?”

“Hey, Mike!” Joyce interrupts from the car, straining to grab something in the backseat. “Merry Christmas, honey!”

“Merry Christmas, Mrs. Byers!” Mike, finally catching up his brain-to-movement reactions, moves to let Will in. “Yeah, come in. I’m gonna, uh, go help your mom.”

“Cool.”

He immediately forgets why he’s moved and attempts to step out as Will crosses the threshold, almost knocking him over, so Mike grabs his arms to stabilize with a, “Sorry - uh - whoops, haha, don’t fall,” and Will chuckles and shifts a bag to his shoulder, saying, “It’s alright,” and Mike spends his walk to the Byers’ car trying not to curse himself out.

“Oh, Mike, thank you, sweetie,” Joyce grunts, pulling a heavy tote bag from the floor of the car. “Can you carry this?” Mike nods and takes it from her easily, offering his arms out for extra luggage. Together, with Jonathan, who greets him with a, “Merry Christmas, man,” they manage to get everything inside in one trip. Mike hardly notices El rummaging through the trunk until she comes stumbling along with a basket full of gifts.

Finally, they’re all inside, and only a beat goes by before Nancy comes bounding down the stairs to greet Jonathan, and Joyce is grinning around at everybody, and then Karen rushes in from the kitchen with excited greetings.

“It is so good to see you,” Joyce says, opening her arms up to Mike for a hug. “You’ve grown so much-'' she looks at Karen and mutters, “-so much-” then looks back at Mike. “We’ve missed you all.”

“I’ve missed you guys too,” Mike says, “I’m glad you decided to come.”

“We couldn’t miss it. Figured it’s best that we’re together, you know.” Her expression falters, but she takes a breath and carries on with moving bags and ‘Merry Christmases.’

Joyce and his mom wind up chattering, and Karen takes off her apron to help transfer some luggage to the spare room. Nancy takes Jonathan’s hand and heads upstairs, grabbing one of his bags from the ground.

Will seems to have disappeared into the kitchen with Max, leaving his things behind, so it’s just Mike and El.

Mike takes in a deep breath.

It wasn’t an ugly breakup; honestly, El seemed unfazed. Their calls were little more than small talk about their days, most of the time, and even though he thought they might hold onto their past, everything they’d been through�� it seemed to work best that they didn’t.

“Hey, Merry Christmas.”

El smiles easily. “Merry Christmas, Mike.” She lifts the basket slightly for acknowledgment. “Can these go by the tree?”

“Yeah, yeah, go for it.”

El nods and slips by the couch over to the tree, carefully laying out the gifts. After a few moments of Mike awkwardly leaning against the couch arm, thinking up something to say - thank god she didn’t seem too focused on him - Max walks in, her mouth stuffed with a truffle.

“El!” She darts over to the tree, and El jumps up, eyes bright, immediately throwing her arms around the girl’s shoulders. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” El giggles. “I brought you a gift.”

“You too. I can’t wait for you to see it. But first, you have to try one of these sweets Mrs. Wheeler’s making. They’re like frickin’ heaven.” She holds out the last bite of her own, and El takes it from her hand, eyes lighting up mischievously as she bites into it.

“It’s amazing.”

“I know. I think we should go sample some of the others.”

Mike calls out to their backs, “You guys better leave some for later on,” and in response, hears Max mimic him. He rolls his eyes and stands up from the couch.

And then it’s just him and Will, who’s beaming at him, seemingly amused by their banter.

Okay, Mike, now or never. “Uh, I’ll show you downstairs.”

“We’re not staying in your room?” Will asks simply, crossing over to retrieve his duffel bag.

“We totally can, I just have something I wanted to show you.”

Will nods. “Oh, okay, cool.”

Mike assists with a smaller bag and leads him to the basement door; before he runs down the stairs, he catches Max’s eye, and she gives him a thumbs up and mouths, ‘You got this.’ Deep breaths. At that moment, he’s incredibly thankful for her presence.

He watches as Will follows him down, slower, glancing around at the familiar surroundings. His eyes catch on everything Mike and Max put together over the past few weeks, and his footsteps grow slower as he takes it all in.

Streamers of all festive colors and off-balance fairy lights hang along the corners of the basement, phrases of ‘Welcome home,’ hand-cut and pasted on the front wall; at the table, a game mat and figures sit in wait, silly hats placed in front each chair; even the TV is prepared with a Santa hat, the couch covered in blankets and pillows, a few sleeping bags folded on the floor.

“Mike,” Will says quietly, stepping in a small circle, “what is all this?”

“Your homecoming party.” Mike is all jitters; he leans against the wall and shoves his hands in his pockets to disguise any visible shakes. “You like it?”

Will finally looks straight at him, an indiscernible look painted on his face. “Yeah,” he says, nodding rapidly, “yeah, it’s great - but we, uh,” he swallows and shakes his head, “we don’t, um, have to play D&D. I mean-”

“I don’t know, Will,” he ventures to step away from the wall, taking slow steps over to the table. Will follows every move. “I mean, I was really excited to have you back, even just for a little bit. We all were.” He reaches the table and leans back on his hands. “Figured having our cleric back warranted some festivities.”

Will shakes his head, runs his hands along his face, and turns away. The bit of confidence Mike has slowly starts to trickle.

“Is it okay?”

Will shakes out of his stupor and chuckles. “It’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me. You’ve truly outdone yourself, Michael.” He lifts himself on tiptoe to look at decorations on top of Mike’s shelves. “Are these from our big craft night, like, years ago?”

The horrible crayon work makes Mike smile - they made half of the snowmen evil, citing a Great Abominable Snowman War, and gave them wicked frowns and smiles, claws on their stick hands. “Yeah.”

“I didn’t know you kept them.”

“I keep everything.” An awkward chuckle breaks from his chest. “Not everything, like, a hoarder or whatever, but - “

Will simply smiles and pushes himself forward toward the back wall, brushing past Mike, to his different pinups. He fixates on the sketch of Mike that he’d sent about a month back. “You know, you should probably take this down. I don’t think you’ll hear the end of it from Lucas and Dustin if you don’t.”

“Screw ‘em.”

“Right.” Will quirks his eyebrow and moves to sit in his designated chair, right next to where Mike is currently resting. “So, they know about D&D?”

“They know.” Mike smiles, and looks at the floor, right where their legs brush up against each other. “They seem pretty excited to have the party back together. To remind you of how badass your first one was,” he adds.

Will peers up at him for a moment before quietly saying, “I never joined another one.” Mike meets his eye for a moment, then, threatened by the silence that follows, clears his throat and distracts himself with a particularly interesting notch in the wood paneling. “Did you guys find someone else?”

“No, no,” Mike assures him. “We haven’t touched any of this stuff. It’s not the same.”

A silence settles between them, one that neither seems to know how to navigate. But Will keeps his gaze steady on Mike, trying to breach some barrier, to fall back into their usual ways.

Something is different, though; it’s not uncomfortable, it never could be, but it’s something intimidating. Will seems more comfortable, at least; he’s not shying away from anything Mike throws at him.

And he tries to break the silence first. “Y’know - “

“Will,” Mike cuts him off, and he’s not sure what he’s saying, or where he’s going with it, but he knows he’s supposed to say this. His name. “I need you to know that I missed you.”

Will blinks at him, cocks his head. “I missed you too,” he says matter-of-factly.

The words are eating at him, right there on the edge of his mind, and Will looks almost concerned and now Mike just wants to drop it because that’s not what he wanted. But he can’t, not now. “I missed you the most.” It sounds so juvenile. “More than everyone else. I missed you before you even left. I just didn’t know how to say it.” He breathes in and out, focusing on Will’s cheeks, the tip of his nose, anything but his eyes. When Will doesn’t say anything, the rest just spills. “I missed you when our first first day of school apart came and passed, and I didn’t even call. I missed you at homecoming. And,” he licks his lips, not really sure where his speech is heading, “I know you had to go, it’s fine. We’ll figure it out. But I feel like we haven’t been on the same page in a long time. So, I missed you, and I love you, and that’s that.”

Will looks at him funny, and then his face softens into something like laughter, and Mike is genuinely about to run and throw up somewhere, but then the boy closes his eyes and says, “I love you too.”

Mike blanches. “I don’t think I said that.”

“Oh, you definitely did.”

“Oh,” he nods, mind spinning, “well, you know…”

Will stands to be at Mike’s level, leans forward on his knees. Mike stops breathing. “I do,” he says, “but tell me again.”

Mike swallows down a breath of courage and suggests, “I think I might like you.” His eyes flit to Will’s lips, then back to his eyes. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll allow it,” Will says, a bright smile causing lines near his eyes. Mike smacks at his arm, nervous laughter coming out with a quiet, ‘Shut up.’ Will moves so he’s resting his fingertips on the table. Inches away.

“Same page, then?” Mike asks.

“Same page, yeah, for sure.”

Mike nods absently, distracting himself with the strings on Will’s sweatshirt. “So I don’t sound crazy?”

Will laughs. “I dunno. I always counted on us going crazy together. Figured we might have a few extra years, but hey, I’m all in.”

And then Mike is flashed back to a night on his couch just over a year ago. Knees knocking together, shared smiles. A promise.

So much has changed.

He wants to know what Will meant. A future of being in each other’s lives, maybe, getting old and senile and batshit crazy. Always being there.

He never dared to think about it before.

“So what now?”

Will shrugs. He dips his head to meet Mike’s eyes with his own. “What do you want, Mike?”

And finally, he thinks he might know.

Or maybe he’s always known.

He scoots forward, takes Will’s face in his hands, and kisses him. It’s just a quick press of their lips, but in that moment, he knows a few things for sure. His heartbeat is going a mile a minute, and Will must be able to feel it; it’s absolutely exhilarating, surreal, insane that he’s kissing his best friend; and, he is definitely in like, or maybe love, with Will Byers.

He’ll probably love him forever.

When Mike pulls back and his eyes flutter open to see Will, flushed, blinking back at him, slightly dazed, he doesn’t want to pull away at all. He did that. Mike’s hand remains on his jaw, lax, and he runs his thumb along Will’s bottom lip, curious to see his reaction, curious about a lot, now.

Will lets out a breathy chuckle. “Wow,” he mumbles, “that’s new.”

“Yeah.” Mike exhales shakily, takes one of Will’s hands, and says, “Merry Christmas, Will.”

“Yeah, Merry Christmas.”

The world doesn’t seem to fall apart like Mike thought it might if he ever got to this point, so, that’s nice.

“So…” Mike begins carefully, “you’re gonna have to be slow with me here. This is sort of a lot for me.”

“Me too,” Will replies simply. He squeezes Mike’s hand. “But we’ll figure it out.”

“Totally.”

Will takes his cheeks in his hands and smiles into a very gentle kiss, his fingers curling into the hair at the nape of Mike’s neck. It’s soft and sweet and lingering - but not for too long, as moments later the door upstairs busts open and shouts of, “BYERS!” from their dear friends sound through the air, and Mike and Will jump apart, equally startled and laughing.

“Down here!” Will calls out. He looks at Mike, smiles, offers, “To be continued?” and as he walks past, he leans in, just to leave a quick peck on Mike’s cheek.

And all Mike can do is laugh and shake his head and run after him to meet their friends; Lucas and Dustin are horribly late to the surprise, but they collide into Will the second they see him, shouting over each other, ‘What’s going on, dude?’ ‘Merry Christmas!’ ‘You’ve missed so much,’ and everyone is grinning and chattering, and it’s awesome.

Max approaches him, watching all of the madness, smacks a hand to his shoulder, and says, “You did good, Wheeler.”

“Yeah, I did.” She punches his arm lightly, laughing, so he adds, “thank you for everything. Seriously.”

“I think we should work together more often.”

Mike scoffs into a laugh, and says, “Yeah, guess so.”

Max rolls her eyes, but at least now they’re actually laughing in each other's company. It’s great progress from just a few weeks ago.

After a minute of watching the boy’s shenanigans, Max smiles. “Well, Merry Christmas, anyway.”

“Merry Christmas,” he responds, and he watches as she jumps up onto a kitchen stool, chatting and giggling with El.

With everyone back together again, finally, Mike feels really alive; so, he jumps in with all the excited shouting and group hugs and bickering, and celebrates the merriest Christmas he can remember in a long time.

#stranger things #hawkinsholidayhiatus #tuserjake #byler #byeler #mike wheeler #will byers #fanfiction #playlist #ik it might be a lil cheesy/dorky BUT i hope it makes u smile it was written w a lot of love <3 #mine

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oldfritz · 3 years

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I'm genuinely curious and don't want to start something! Just wanted to ask what you make of the 'Old Fritz might've been asexual' take, I don't know much about him and I feel you're one of the best people to ask esp since you lean towards 'he was probably queer in some way' too

Hey there! So, first off, don’t ever worry about me interpreting you asking me a question as starting something. As much as I love making dumb jokes about the guy, I love nothing more than doing this kind of stuff and defending or explaining my points. There’s two degrees I want to get over the next decade: first my JD and then my MA in Prussian history. I live for this stuff! Always have! Second off, I’m very sorry for not getting to this sooner. Things have been incredibly stressful for me for a variety of different reasons which have made answering your question, until now, rather difficult. Putting this under a cut because, holy shit, it got long!

My personal reasoning for why I think he’s bi (which, correct me if I’m wrong, I’m assuming is what you meant instead of ace and could be a different post entirely since some historians have tried to argue that) stems more to do with some of my lingering questions about the nature of his relationships with certain woman, rather than that of his relationships with men. To me and my modern, queer eye, Fritz’s relationships with men like Hans Hermann von Katte, Francisco Algarotti, Michael Gabriel Fredersdorf, and (much to my personal vexation) one Monsieur Voltaire are either outright homosexual/homoerotic in nature or very, very easily lend themselves to that interpretation rather than strictly romantic friendships (which Wikipedia does a fairly good overview of and, if you’re coming to me from AmRev perspective, uses Hamilton and Laurens’ relationship as a familiar example). While I’m avoiding those relationships in this ask, I’d be more than happy to elaborate upon one/all of them in a different one.

Before I go into the big pauses that Fritz’s relationships with Madame von Wreech and Countess Orzelska give me, I want to deny the use of Fritz’s wife as an example of Fritz’s attraction to woman. While this, admittedly, may sound odd, we have ample evidence of how turned off and repulsed Fritz found Elisabeth Christine. Before he had even met her, Fritz was complaining about how she was ‘not very pretty, speaks but little, and acts like a blockhead’ (Asprey, 87) and, later, admitted to Grumbkow his plan to ‘keep my word,...get married, but afterwards it will be a case of that is that, and goodbye, Madame, and fare thee well’ (Jones, 52). For Christ’s sake, the man pitied her knowing how his treatment would leave her as ‘one more unhappy princess in the world’! Which is little consolation when you remember he also referred to her with such romantic terms as ‘this unpleasant creature,’ ‘the abominable object of my desires,’ ‘the person,’ and claimed to have preferred to marry ‘the biggest whore in Berlin’ (Asprey, 87). And while we (fortunately? unfortunately?) know quite a bit about their sex life, Fritz largely regarded it as just another duty - to quote him, ‘I will only have the duty to fuck’ (Ibid, 87). And while Seckendorf heard - first, presumably from Count von der Schulenburg and, later on, Count Friedrich von Wartensleben, a close and intimate friend of the then-crown prince - that Fritz would ‘fuck and refuck’ Elisabeth Christine and that said act occurred in the afternoon, it still was out of a sense of obligation (Bely, 481-2). When reminded that if he wanted more money for frivolities, he’d need to produce an heir, Fritz bemoaned that he ‘cannot sleep with my wife out of desire, and when I do sleep with her, I do it out of duty rather than inclination’ (Clark, 50). All this in accumulation, as well as the myriad of other quotes and incidents I’ve left out, makes one wonder why his relationship with Elisabeth Christine is sometimes used by historians to prove any sort of heterosexual impulse in the man when she’s the woman with the weakest supports for that argument.

That being said, now we get to the women with a more muddled places in his romantic escapades, if you will. What exactly happened between Orzelska and Fritz during his trip with his father to Dresden in 1728? The main source for everything that occurred during this trip is Wilhelmina, who didn’t attend and without anything about this specific incident coming from Fritz or Friedrich Wilhelm I, make it rather hard to use as concrete, irrefutable proof. Now, if her recollections were contemporaneous - like coming from a diary or journal she kept at the time - that would be one thing. But it comes from her memoirs which, while a delightful read 10/10 recommend, are written decades after this trip took place and, memory being a finicky thing, can’t be taken to the bank. All those disclaimers, here’s the story as told by her:

‘One evening...,the King of Poland [note: Augustus II] insensibly led the King of Prussia to a very richly decorated room...The King of Prussia, delighted with what he saw, stopped to contemplate all its beauties, when [all of] a sudden a tapestry was rolled up, which procured him a very novel sight. It was a lovely female in a state of nudity [note: Countess Orzelska, the Polish king’s daughter], carelessly reclined on a couch. Her beauty excelled that of the finest pictures of Venus and the Graces; her body seemed of ivory, whiter than snow, and better shaped than that of the Venus de Medicis at Florence.

...Scarcely had the King cast his eyes on the fair one, than he turned about with indignation; and seeing my brother behind him, he rudely pushed him out of the room, and left it immediately after in a violent irritation against the trickery they had attempted to practice on him. ...In spite of the King’s vigilance, [Frederick] had had time to contemplate the Venus of the closet, who did not cause him so much horror as she had done to his father. (Wilhelmina’s Memoirs, vol. 1, 107-6)

Wilhelmina then goes on to claim Fritz had fallen ‘passionately in love’ with Orzelska and that the illness Fritz experienced upon returning home was simply being lovesick. Pinning the accuracy of this story is incredibly difficult because, again, we have only one source relayed decades after the fact and from two volumes of memoirs known to have inaccuracies. While I, personally, would love if he had had a tryst with Orzelska (who is such a badass in her own right and deserves more recognition than as a footnote in this guy’s story), there’s no one way to say with more than 30% confidence. I am inclined to believe something along these lines happened because if someone told me a story like this, lord knows I wouldn’t forget it for the rest of my life. And, with Wilhelmina being so close with her brother, it lends a bit more credence but as to the actual emotional or physical response Fritz had to it, well, without my time machine, I can’t and don’t want to say.

With Madame Eleonore-Louise von Wreech, things are a little more concrete. For starters, Fritz actually talked about her! In written correspondence that survived! We even have seven letters between the two of them that survived, which is a bigger win! As Blanning says, they’re ‘ardent but light in tone, ironic, almost flippant, and highly stylized’ (Blanning, 58). Their relationship was known to those close with Fritz at the time that Schulenberg felt compelled to visit and warn the crown prince against devoting himself to women because ‘the slight pleasures gained cause a million displeasures.’ Fritz’s response? To tell the poor guy that he may have ‘the gift of continence, but I assure you that I do not’ (Asprey, 83-4). Firtz even went so far as to send a letter to her mother, waxing poetic about Louise’s ‘beauty, her majestic air, her bearing, and her entire department.’ It’s worth noting that Louise eventually broke off the affair due to being bored by how he ‘loved [her] too much and often annoyed [her] with his clumsy love’ (Ibid, 84). Contemporaries, including Friedrich Wilhelm, believed Fritz had impregnated her with a daughter who her ‘cuckolded husband would refuse to recognize’ (Blanning, 58). Blanning is the only source I’ve seen dispute this due to this news coming from Seckendorf, who didn’t reveal how he came about this information; that Fritz and Madame von Wreech’s correspondence doesn’t indicate a physical relationship; and on the fact that she was not pregnant. I haven’t been able to find the birth dates or any sort of records for Louise’s two daughters to figure out where their conception could’ve been in the timeline and if it matches with the likely dates for the affair, but I also don’t have the resources Cambridge would afford Blanning. Either way, while the physical nature of the affair is in dispute, the emotional aspect certainly was there. Especially when taking into consideration the fact that she’s the woman Fritz was likely referring to in the 16 August 1737 letter to Voltaire where he claimed she had taught him how to love (and also inspired him to write poetry, which we shouldn’t be thankful for). Specifically, all these years later, he stated how ‘this little miracle of nature possessed every possible charm, together with good taste and delicacy. She sought to transfer these qualities to me. I succeeded well in love but poorly in poetry. Since that time I have very often been in love and have always been a poet’ (Fritz’s Oeuvres, vol. 21, 96).

All this to say, there’s a bit too much evidence of some degree of opposite-gender attraction in Fritz to completely write off the possibility that he could’ve been bisexual. While it’s undeniable he held a preference for men and that’s whose company he typically enjoyed, I still do find it interesting the two exceptions (one potential and the other with a fair degree of certainty) to this. And, while I would never want his attraction to men be minimized in favor of that to women, it still remains important to note to get the most comprehensive picture of the man.

#frederick the great #elisabeth christine #countess orzelska #madame von wreech #asks #anonymous

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fanfic-requests · 3 years

Text

The Angel Next Door - Chapter 2

8:15 am…

“Good morning. Sleep well?” My mom is way too chipper in the morning.

“Yeah. I guess.”

“Wow. Very detailed answer.”

“What? Do you want me to tell you how I drooled on my pillow and rolled off the bed twice?”

“Actually, kinda.”

“You’re weird.”

“What’s up slugger?” Dave walks in.

“Nothin’.”

“Wow babe, you’re kid’s quite the wordsmith.” I’m about to respond in a not-so-nice way, but I hold it back.

“When’s the pool gonna be ready?”

“It’ll be a few weeks.” My mom hands me a glass of orange juice.

“Thanks.” I start walking away.

“Hey! No food or drinks upstairs.” I turn to face Dave, really tempted to throw the OJ in his face.

“So no water? What about vitamins? Technically they’re food.”

“Haha, smart aleck.” He turns away from me and I flip him off.

My mom gives me a look that says “stop it!” and I just turn away, leaving my OJ on the nearest table.

When I get to my room I am very tempted to slam the door, but somehow manage to not do so. I open my window and just step out onto the deck to get some fresh air for the moment. And yet again there’s Asher. He seems to be playing some video games. So I reach into my room, grab a sock, ball it up, and throw it at his window. And he doesn’t notice. Son of a bitch. So I grab a pen and throw it. This time he notices and walks over to his window.

“What you doing?”

“Just playing some Madden.”

“Sounds fun.” I stand up, run across the roof, and jump across the gap between our roofs, landing directly in front of him.

“Shit! Dude!” He looks freaked out and I just start laughing.

“It’s all good. Now, are you gonna let me in and get destroyed in Madden? Or are we gonna just stand here like some weirdos from a 90s rom-com?”

“You’re crazy.” He steps back to let me in.

“I take that as a compliment.”

“You shouldn’t.”

I sit on his bed while he grabs another controller.

“I can’t believe you’re even awake right now. Did you even sleep?”

“I don’t sleep much.”

“So you’re super athletic and don’t sleep. Are you sure you’re not Spiderman?”

“Nope. Just a retired gymnast.”

“Gymnast?”

“What? You didn’t get gymnast off me?”

“Not at all.”

“Good.”

“How are you already retired?”

“Well I guess retired isn’t the right word. Just the one my mom uses.” I spot a photo on Asher’s desk and walk over. “It’s more that I got sick of it and left.” The photo is of him and what I’m assuming are his mom, dad, and younger brother and sister. “This your fam?”

“Yeah. From our trip to the Bahamas last summer.”

“Looks fun.”

“You’re parents seem nice. Saw them unpacking yesterday.”

“Dave’s not my dad.” I make sure to emphasize that.

“Oh. Sorry.”

“No problem. Most people assume that.” I sit back down next to him. “My dad’s out of the picture now. Dave’s the evil stepfather.”

“Sorry.”

“He’s just the stereotypical evil step-parent. It’s actually his fault that we moved here. Some business opportunity or whatever.”

“That sucks. I’m sorry about that.”

“You say sorry a lot.”

“Sor… Oops.” We both laugh.

“Now can we just play or are you scared of losing?”

“What? You’re the one that started talking about Dave.”

“Oh shut up!” I shove him and he shoves me back as we laugh.

“That was just dumb luck.” I stand up, throwing the controller on the bed.

“Dumb luck? 12 times in a row?”

“Oh fuck you.” Asher laughs. “Let’s do something else. Go out or something.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know. Out.”

“You sound like my mom.”

“I haven’t met her, but I’m assuming she’s amazing.”

“Eww.”

“Let’s go.”

“Wait. Let me at least tell my parents.”

“Fine. Come on.” I open his bedroom door and standing right there is his mom.

She smiles at me, looking very confused.

“Hi. I’m Spencer.”

“Hey.” She looks very confused, but luckily Asher comes walking up.

“He’s the new neighbor.”

“Oh! Really good to meet you. I was planning on dropping by to say hi to your parents later.”

“Oh, they’d love that.”

“I didn’t even hear you come in earlier.”

“Oh… yeah… I’m very quiet.” Asher and I share a funny look.

“Well, Spencer and I were just about to go out. Can I borrow the car?”

“Sure. Where are you guys going?”

“Oh… um…” Asher is nervous and part of me doesn’t want to save him.

“He’s going to show me around town.”

“That’s nice. You guys have fun.”

Asher and I run out to the car.

“Do you need to go and get shoes? Maybe tell your mom and Dave that you’re going out?”

I look to the house for a second.

“Nah.” I jump into the car and I just see Asher smirk at that.

“Is he really that bad?” He asks as he drives out of the driveway.

“Worse. But everyone loves him. He’s only awful to me, and never in public.”

“Like… is he…”

“No. He’s not physical. He wouldn’t even dare. I would knock him out with one hit and he knows it.”

“Damn.”

“Let’s move on to something else.”

“Like what?”

“Tell me a summary of your life… in 60 seconds.”

“Oh…”

“Begin!”

“Shit! My name is Asher Angel…”

“Angel?”

“Shh. Since I was a kid I’ve been very into acting and singing. Got my first big gig at the age of six. From there on I’ve done a lot of plays and then a few small gigs before getting a major role on Disney Channel’s Andi Mack. I’ve released multiple albums. Then I got the role as Billy Batson in Shazam.”

“Five seconds.”

“Oh, and I love Top Golf, basketball, and my sibling’s names are Avi and London.” I just look over at him, unable to speak. “You good?”

“Um… describe good.” We both laugh. “Well, now I feel ridiculous. How did I not recognize you? I’ve seen Shazam!”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I liked it a lot too.” Asher can’t help but laugh. “Well, now I’m embarrassed.”

“Don’t be.”

“And now my life story feels pathetic.”

“I doubt it. No way your life could be boring. The first time I saw you you were sneaking off your roof.”

“ It’s fine. Let’s move on.”

“Come on. I won’t judge.”

“Wait! Stop here!” I point to our left.

“What? The playground?”

“What? It’s empty.” He pulls over and I quickly get out of the car.

I rush over to the bars. I jump on them and just start swinging around.

“You’re crazy.”

“Come on. Who says a playground is just for kids?”

“Everyone.”

“Well, kids can’t do this.”

I know this isn’t the safest, but at this point, I don’t care. So I push with all my force and spin around the pole. I spin a few more times before letting go and doing a simple under swing dismount.

“Shit!” Asher starts clapping.

“Thank you. Thank you.” I bow to him.

“I think it’s so cool that you can do that.”

“It is pretty cool, isn’t it? Bars aren’t really my thing though. I’m more of a floor guy.”

“Floor guy? That sounds a bit gross.” We both laugh.

“Eww.” I step back and quick front handspring.

“Shit. Can you do the splits?”

“Of course. But not in these pants.”

“So why’d you quit? You’re so good.”

“Swings!” I run to the swings.

“You’re really good at avoiding things. You know that, right?” Asher sits on the swing next to me.

“I know. You got a girlfriend?”

“Wow. What a transition there!”

“And?”

“No. I don’t have a girlfriend. Well, I did, but we broke up a few months ago.”

“Bummer.”

“And you? You leave a girl behind?”

“Oh god no. But I’ve had a few boyfriends. Not a recent one though.”

“Oh... “ I love seeing people’s faces when they realize I’m gay. “Sorry I assumed.”

“It’s fine. Most people do.”

“So you’re out?”

“Yeah. For two years now.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, are your parents fine with it?”

I sit there for a second and just stare forward. Part of me just wants to run, but I’m honestly just too tired to keep running.

“Well, my mom was fine with it. She told me she knew for a long time.” I feel my heart racing, thinking about all of this. “As for my dad…” I literally begin feeling my chest moving at a dangerous speed.

“You okay?”

“Not really.” I find my eyes tearing up, but then I just laugh.

“You sure.”

“Not really.” I laugh again. “When I was six my parents divorced. And I was given the choice of who I wanted to live with. I choose my dad.”

“Oh…” I can tell he’s intrigued like it’s a telenovela… and it is.

“So I lived with him. But I still saw my mom every weekend. We were close. But I was much closer with my dad.”

“That’s nice.” I can’t help but laugh at that and he just looks at me confused.

“Two years ago I came out to my parents. My dad couldn’t handle it. He kicked me out. I didn’t even get to pack. My mom picked me up and she had to pack all my stuff.”

“Damn. I’m sorry.” It is a struggle to not let my tears out right now.

“It’s all good.”

“Have you talked to him at all?”

“Nope. Haven’t heard a single word from him for two years now.”

“I can’t imagine that.”

“It’s fine. I’ve moved on.”

“There’s no moving on from that.” And then I snap, tears slowly falling down my face.

“God I wish I had my flask right now.” Asher and I both laugh a little. “Ugh, I hate this.” I wipe my tears.

“It’s not a bad thing to cry.”

“I know…”

“Really. Emotions aren’t a bad thing. If you ever need to talk about anything just jump on over.”

“Thanks…” I look at him. “Are you sure you’re straight?” I laugh, but I notice he doesn’t.

“Wanna go get some ice cream?”

“Look who’s avoiding things now?” We both laugh. “Come on. Ice cream sounds perfect.”

#asher angel #asher angel fanfic #asher angel gay #asher angel fanfiction #gay fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #gay romance #romance #angst #drama #gay angst #gay drama #the boy next door #boy next door #slow burn #friendship then romance #mature

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joshstambourine · 3 years

Text

GVF as Your Best Friend

"Hii can I request gvf as besties and dumb things that they would do with the reader, also can the pronouns for the reader be neutral 🥺" - @guitarfingers

Thank you so much for sending this in!! I really wanted to do it quick cause I just loved the idea so much!

Please please please, if anyone wants me to write something with neutral pronouns, please let me know (same with male pronouns). Sometimes I get on autopilot when I'm writing and start using female pronouns without thinking.

These fics are mostly written whenever I get five minutes to myself, so sometimes I get distracted as well but that doesn't make it right.

Warning: Cursing

Taglist: @anditsmywholeheart @babydxll

Josh

Oh what a loud friend. What a noisy naughty friend. What a rotten rotten boy.

Lmao just kidding.

Though Josh is probably a lot of those things when it comes to being your friend. He already seems like a little gremlin who is surprisingly wise in general but as someone's best friend?? Oh man you're in for a time.

Your camera roll is just dumb pictures of you and Josh. Almost exclusively. Probably some you don't remember taking as well---

10/10 the "I double dare you to do the thing" type of friend.

"I didn't think you'd actually do it---"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN?! YOU DOUBLE DARED ME---"

"You're a terrible person (Y/N) how do you live with yourself?" //Gobblin snickering//

Has even less of a filter when he's with you, "oh fuck, you look like something the cat dragged in and then ate again and then--"

"What the--- Josh???"

Josh also has a foul mouth from what I gather so if you're going to be friends with him be ready for a lot of cursing.

Take it as a compliment! It means he's comfortable with you!

"Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"Yes and your mom as well."

Despite all that. Josh I can imagine being a very protective friend.

Think the kind of person who gets mad when a person insults you and says, "Whoa, what the fuck, only I can say mean shit like that to them."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine Josh..."

"Honest?"

"Honest."

Puts an arm around you, "Good.... it would have sucked to tell you they were right if you were upset."

Probably just //Demonic screeching// most of the time the two of you are together.

Other times a lot of philosophizing and asking important questions. Or questions he feels crucial to ask.

Probably because he's baked but---

"(Y/N)?"

"Yes Josh?"

"Why don't we call big Ants… Gi-ants?"

"I'm not talking to you anymore."

Josh also would be very keen to take an interest in things his bestie is interested in. Especially important things.

As an example: If they are religious he'd want to make sure he understands their beliefs. He wants them to know he respects these things.

Over all, he's a chaotic force to be reckoned with... but one that is going to carry you along with him. You're never going to have a dull moment and you're never going to feel alone.

And most importantly you'll know you're loved at all times.

Jake

Jake always strikes me as so relaxed, someone who likes to keep to himself.

Despite that I do also see he and Josh are twins and have some things in common.

He probably is just as much of a gremlin, though less loud and obnoxious about it.

"I just want to make sure... you picked out that outfit right? Not your mom?"

"Yes...?"

"Okay good, I don't want to offend your mom."

More than anything I picture him and you sitting quietly together just doing separate things in a comfortable silence half the time.

I mean that might seem lame but those are my personal favorite kind of friendships.

The ones where you can look up from whatever you were doing and just make a face at them...

... and since he's that kind of friend he'd raise his brows first, but then immediately make a corresponding face silently.

I feel like deep conversations are the thing the two of you would be best at. No shooting the shit. Always straight to the important stuff.

Drinking whiskey by a warm fire vibes.

If you have any interest in music, even slightly, Jake would be all over that. He'd want to expand that interest to make it a love.

"I'll teach you!"

"You're too busy you don't have time..."

"No way! You're my best friend, I'm not letting some random person teach you how to play guitar. Be serious (Y/N)."

I can picture Jake laying beside his friend on the floor just smoking and listening to his favorite records.

Also a really warm and sentimental friend I think. Now this might just be a me thing but it's something I could see him doing, not often just for really important things. Maybe saving little things?

Like a ticket from a concert he went to with his best friend. Or a receipt from a really nice hang out.

Probably a Polaroid boy because of that.

That might just be me. I really feel like he likes to have things to look back on.

"Oh wow you still have that??" You ask pointing to a concert ticket from years ago tucked into the side of his mirror.

"Of course I do! I loved being there with you!"

Jake treasures his time with his friends, and its important to keep his best friend safe always.

Sam

ANOTHER FORCE OF CHAOS.

But. Sam definitely seems like one who actively tries to be a chaotic force, whereas Josh has it come naturally.

So I imagine a lot of making super dumb videos together.

"Hang on before we start!! (Y/N) can you do up my braids??"

"Fuck yeah i can."

I would want to see cooking videos made by the both of you. They'd be hysterical I know it. Get on it please.

Lots of spontaneous dancing together.

"What are you guys even doing...?"

(Horrendous dance moves that are not in-synch intensifies)

Probably a lot of shopping trips together, not necessarily to shop. Just to be out together.

Probably also would fight over who pays for lunch because neither of you can just pay separately.

Is it bad that I sorta imagine him being a bit of a wine aunt friend??

Like--- you both are just at a table drinking a glass of wine and just complaining about everyone and gossiping non-stop.

I do think he'd want to have a movie night with his best friend. They take turns picking, but hardly ever watch the movie... too busy making comments over the movie and pointing out flaws in it.

"WHY ARE YOU STILL STANDING THERE!! GET IN THE HOUSE--- ladies in horror movies man---"

"You'd be the first one to die in a horror movie... im almost positive."

".....thanks for that (Y/N)."

All that said Sam strikes me as one of those people who take note of little things about people.

So you would always get super personal gifts from Sam. Something that is irreplaceable.

It also means that by the expression on your face at any given time he knows how you're feeling.

"...oh? (Y/N) are you okay...?"

"Huh??"

"You look upset, did something happen?"

"Ah... just an upsetting text that's all."

"You wanna vent, I'll get the wine?"

A friendship with Sam means excitement of course but also a strong personal connection you probably won't be able to replace in your entire life.

Danny

I think he's the kind of best friend that wants to chat with your parents.

You know that friend. We can all picture that friend we have. The one who your parents adore and make you pretty sure they wish this friend was actually their child instead of you?

Danny is that friend.

All the boys seem to really enjoy the outdoors but I do think Danny strikes me as one of the boys who seems to enjoy it the most.

I can picture him wanting to be outside with his best friend.

Hikes. A day trip to the beach. Golf.

"Cmon (Y/N)! Can't have ya falling behind!" He'd yell when too much space builds between the two of you on a hiking trail.

I'm sure all the boys would do this but, I do think Danny would be the type of friend to go out of his way to make your life easier.

Even if this means doing something drastic.

"Your parents won't be able to make it out for the holidays...? Let's drive out there together."

"What?? We cant---"

"I've already got it planned don't worry about it."

There's also always the added benefit of getting to take out your emotions on his drum kit whenever you need to as well... this is an open ended invitation.

Danny unfortunately seems like the kind of person that listens most of the time and probably doesn't get to be the one to complain himself.

So you would have to keep an eye on him and prod a lot to get him to open up.

Even then I think you'd have to get him drinking before he'd actively talk about his problems.

It's not that he doesn't trust you. He just doesn't want to burden you, especially if you have a lot happening.

The kind of friend that wants to bond with your pets (they probably listen to him better than they ever did for you).

Let's be honest he'd bring your pets gifts so much.

"Another bandana?? Danny where are you getting these---"

"It has to match the collar I got him."

"Jeez get your own pet man."

All in all. Danny is a gentle soul, so keep that in mind as his best friend. He will give his all, probably 150%... make sure you keep up your end.

Otherwise he will burn himself out.

All in all:

Look it's pretty easy just to assume that all the guys would be good friends.

They all are sweet guys.

They all seem like people who enjoy learning about new things and people's interests.

As a group---

There would be so much fun and merriment as you all explore nature.

Bonfires and music baby.

Camping invitations of course.

Probably lots of drinking games (if you drink).

"Haha--- (Y/N) has to drink kings Cup!"

"Fuck my life..."

"Sucks to suck buddy!"

Lots of music being played.

Long drives with the windows down.

Stupid jokes.

Dumb faces.

A good group of guys that will honestly accept you as you are.

And that will also make fun of you mercilessly.

All out of love of course~

//Hopefully you liked it! For those who noticed, yes I did post this early by accident, I went to save this and like... hit the save button. And then I opened up my feed and there it was so!!! I don't know what happened.//

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audarcy · 4 years

Text

Endgame/Infinity War is such a badly told story for so many reasons.

First of all, I’ll get the CinemaSins shit out of the way: obviously, the story ignores a lot of the ramifications of what Thanos does. And to be fair, it would be fine if Thanos’ plan was illogical if it had not been presented as logical within the story, or if the lack of logic had ever been pointed out. But yeah, killing half of all life would almost equally deplete resources (because half of our food source would be gone), killing half of all life at once would cause a ripple effect of considerably more death and destruction (plane pilots disappearing mid-flight, employees at nuclear facilities abandoning their posts, doctors disappearing mid-surgery, etc), life would not be able to go back to normal not just because of the Insane Trauma everyone left behind would have but also because the world’s infrastructure would be totally fucked..........you get the picture.

But I’m even going to give that all a pass. It’s comics and comics are fucking stupid. Comics have a planet called counter-earth that scientists never found because its on the opposite side of the sun so no one ever saw it. It’s allowed to be dumb. Moving on.

Ultimately, the main desire of IW/EG is to maintain and restore the status quo. Someone is trying to change things, and we have to stop it. And in the end, that’s exactly what happened. The only major change to the world is the death of Tony Stark. Which, uh, I guess is one good thing.

IW/EG just....didn’t mean anything. It was a cliffhanger followed by a fun throwback and then a big epic fight scene and a major character death to make it seem serious. And now we’re left basically where we started. It took all of that just to kill a character who’s had the same arc in every movie he’s been in, including the one where he’s dead. (“Maybe making weapons of mass destruction is bad...but if I am the one with the weapons of mass destruction, that is good.”)

And obviously these movies are trash meant to get the big box office numbers and little else, but these themes actually become pretty insidious under scrutiny, so it’s important to be critical of them. It’s important to be cognizant of these things because it’s subtle propaganda. It’s propaganda that says that those in power need to stay that way, that weapons of mass destruction belong in the hands of the “good guys” (white American Tony Stark) to beat up the “bad guys” who threaten the status quo...et cetera.

Also, the story gives a “logical” creedence to Thanos’ plan that it never actually challenges. And sure, the audience relates to not wanting half of all life to die, so we root for the heroes, but then we start getting people writing thinkpieces like “Actually, Thanos has a point!” followed by some Malthusian fascy bullshit. There was never a victory of ideology in IW/EG. There was a victory of might, a victory of power, but ultimately, it was Thanos who was given a voice. It was Thanos who was made out to be correct, as the story characterized him as an intelligent and all-powerful villain by framing his motives as logical. Thanos had to be made out to be this sort of Supreme Being in order to make the heroes seem Super Powerful for being able to beat him. So even in his loss, he still has to be Great and Epic, because the heroes need a Great and Epic villain to beat. Which means that people watching still take him seriously. Which means.....the story tacitly uplifts his beliefs.

Compare this to Black Panther, as I would like to be fair in this argument and compare a story within the MCU to another story on the same playing field. In Black Panther, the villain also had an ideological motive. Killmonger’s motive challenges the status quo: he wants Wakanda to change its ways. T’Challa challenges his ideology, but he takes it into consideration and ultimately agrees. And although Killmonger is defeated, he wins the ideological battle. The events of the story have a profound impact on its characters and the world they live in. T’Challas position of power is challenged, literally and thematically, and ultimately, he understands the responsibility that comes with his power and the moral onligation to use it for the benefit of the powerless. The story had a purpose. IW/EG....just doesn’t. The status quo has been restored. And nothing is really all that different, at least from what we’ve seen in Homecoming, where the biggest issue is that Tony is dead, which could’ve happened regardless of anything Thanos did.

And it’s important to understand the emotional core of IW/EG: desire to stay the same. Rejecting change. Making sure that the people who have power stay that way, that their power isn’t challenged. It tells us that those with power will do the right thing with it always and we can trust them to defeat outside enemies.

I haven’t been, like, Emotionally Invested in Marvel movies in a while, but these have an undeniably huge cultural impact, so...it’s important to be aware of stuff like this. At the end of the day, these movies are made by powerful people who benefit from their consumers thinking a Certain Way About The World, y’know?

#marvel #infinity saga #infinity war #endgame #avengers #avengers endgame #yes I am absolutely begging for rabid fans in my ask with these tags. I dont care

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vaguely-concerned · 3 years

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Any tips for a TF POV fic? I want to write one because I too went through a time in my life when I let feelings bounce off cuz that was easier, but I feel like that's not quite on point for him 🤔

God I have SO MANY THOUGHTS about this and they’re all so wordless and frustratingly evasive to me yet (I am in the process of writing a looooooong T.F. POV fic and it gives me much more trouble than Graves POV, probably because as a person I’m quite a lot more like the T.F. Type in real life lol). But yes, here we go, let me try to express some of what I personally try to have as my hm ‘anchor points’ for his perspective. (Heavy disclaimer that these are just my personal & disorganized little musings and by no means the only or ‘correct’ way to read the character!)

- First of all I agree, the image of ‘bouncing off’ doesn’t feel quiteright -- it’s in the right neighbourhood but the wrong address sort of thing, but it’s really hard to come up with a way to explain how I feel the nuance here.

*insert three hours later spongebob meme here* Okay, so the metaphor I came up with is: T.F.’s relationship to emotions is a direct parallel to his relationship to water/the ocean: it’s scary down there, it’s dark, it’s dangerous, and if he should ever be dumb enough to try to go in too deep it’ll kill him dead because boy oh boy on so many levels this man just did not learn how to swim. As far as he’s concerned any sensible person would simply bob along on the surface in a sturdily built boat and try not to think too much about the weird shit that lives down there in the depths. (In this metaphor the layer of artifice and performance so habitual it’s basically integrated into the fabric of his soul is the boat. Y’know, the part that’s Twisted Fate and not just plain ol’ Tobias. I’ll hasten to add that I think both parts of his identity are equally ‘real’ and equally him, but the Twisted Fate part is like… protecting the Tobias part. Keeping him from drowning, as it were. I’m not sure he’d think of it like that himself for the longest time, though, I suspect he has more of a ‘that man is dead’ attitude towards the Tobias part after Graves is gone)

I think what I’m trying to get at is the idea that to him, raw emotion is as hostile and unknowable and unnavigable an ‘environment’ as the deep ocean. (And the only time we see him willingly go there, physically and otherwise, is for Graves, so you know let’s jot that down first of all lol.)

- He seems to genuinely quite like and be interested in people – how they think, what moves and motivates them, their secrets and foibles. So I tend to try to keep the uh ‘detail work’ in his POV focused in that direction. Priority going like 1) people 2) people’s valuables 3) the relative availability of people’s valuables at this moment if you have clever hands and a very charming smile haha

- One of my favourite things about T.F. is that he seems, I don’t know… quite genuinely good-natured beneath it all? If you back him into a corner some sharp and dangerous things peek out (he has survived in his line of heh ‘business’ for like thirty years, and a lot of it on his own), but for the most part and when unthreatened he has a sort of mildly amused and intrigued live-and-let-live attitude to the world even as he’s conning it that I find deeply charming. Which to me ties in with:

- T.F.’s first instinctive reaction to danger (perceived or real) the majority of the time seems to be ‘Flight’. Confrontation and violence are basically his ‘when literally everything else has failed’ options. (As seen prominently in Burning Tides, where he just keeps running and running and the only time he actually starts throwing punches is when he has to because Graves is in immediate danger and they’re backed into a corner. Which feels like it means something huh lol, I often think about what could actually make T.F. angry enough that he would openly express it and that seems to be the most likely angle for it in my eyes.)

- My take on one of the fundamental differences between Graves and T.F. is that Graves has A LOT of feelings but doesn’t quite know it (or more like can’t quite conceptualize it I should say) – he has a hard time identifying or finding vocabulary for feelings that aren’t some shade of anger. Meanwhile T.F. KNOWS he has feelings, he just doesn’t like it, ardently wishes he didn’t, and will do pretty much anything to run away and not have to engage with them haha.

Another important difference: when brought out of equilibrium Graves gets angry, and T.F. gets scared. I have the feeling that beneath it all he’s scared a lot, and it’s why his persona is so oriented towards gaining control in ways where people don’t realize it enough to even think try to take that control away from him until he’s already long gone. Misdirection as a way of life babEY

- This might be too deep in the ‘my WIP/process specific’ territory to really count as general analysis, but I think it’s there in canon too – there’s almost a feeling that he implicitly feels like he has to make up for some fundamental flaw or lack he has at the core? (Not a weird thing for him to end up feeling, considering what happened to him as a kid.) All the rest of him, all the cleverness and style and charm, is there to ‘make up’ for how at the end of the day he’s… wrong somehow. As Graves, who knows him better than anyone, focuses right in on, a coward. And that is CERTAINLY not the whole truth and even Graves in a full rage relents when he sees the effect the accusation has on him and once he gets the actual facts of what happened. But I think that sense of deep unworthiness is what’s stuck with him emotionally. His people left him because there’s something fundamentally lacking and immoral about him. He lost Graves because he’s not good enough, because he’s a coward who leaves people behind. He deserves to be alone. Mix in a ton of survivor’s guilt to taste, and I think you have the like… core emotional wound he’s constructed around.

There’s also something here about fear of profound powerlessness specifically in situations where words, generally his strongest card that’s not a literal card (har har har oh we do have fun here), simply don’t work right at the moment when he needs them to the most – he tried to beg for his people not to leave him behind, he tried to convince Graves to get the hell out with the rest of the crew… and it didn’t work. (In Burning Tides you see he’s given up even trying to explain himself, he just wants Out in whatever way leaves both him and Graves tolerably in one piece, even if he won’t be understood or heard or less alone afterwards. It takes him until like half way through the entire chase to even THINK about just telling Graves the truth. In all fairness to T.F. it probably wouldn’t have worked at that moment, but it does vaguely crack me up that he didn’t even consider it until all of Bilgewater harbor was already burning merrily behind them fhsajkfa)

- He has a little bit of a (perfectly justified considering his background honestly) chip on his shoulder, especially when it comes to powerful or arrogant people. There seems to be a special satisfaction in outsmarting and robbing specifically rich assholes (which would also be the people who have the most to steal, so y’know good times all round). From his short stories and few places in his bio you almost get the feeling that he has a funny sort of Robin Hood-esque sense of lopsided justice about it. (Robin Hood-esque only so far as to define ‘the poor’ as the eternally hard-strapped ‘T.F. & Graves Waistcoats and Cigars Fund’, of course lol)

I think T.F. both has a mind that tends more towards analyzing the big picture and also has more direct experience with like… structural/systemic powerlessness and oppression. So the cons they pull are probably partly how he channels the emotions that arise out of that (and the rest he just represses, like the relatable guy he is haha)

- Graves being back would cause some IMMENSE internal conflict in him, I feel – of course all the feelings of relief and attachment and love, but also… so much of who he is now came about specifically to find a way to deal with Graves being gone, with seemingly just shutting down the entirety of his need for real human companionship or closeness for like a decade, things that are suddenly starting to be brought online again and must be tremendously stressful to deal with when you’ve had it completely suppressed and deadened for so long. He’s put so much into trying to be fundamentally unattached to anything, anywhere, anyone (and there are some things here about perpetually being an outsider his whole life that I can’t quite put into words, but that’s a dimension too.) That sort of psychological self defense mechanism doesn’t just contentedly nod its head and go away just because something good happened one time haha. Probably a work in progress there huh (at least he’s not alone in it now <3)

PLUS some bonus Graves POV observations because man. I love writing him, he’s just a marvel of a man

- I know I call him a dumbass all the time, but in a street smart way I think he’s actually quite clever haha, he just has a bad tendency to get hung up on an idea and get tunnel sight. (I’ve based this a lot on the short stories but see also more recently his Sentinel skin voice lines for good examples: he’s incredibly straightforward in that ‘well obviously if it doesn’t affect me personally I ain’t gonna give it that much thought’ way, but you also have glimpses of surprising insight/shrewdness and… I don’t quite know how to put it, but something like an ability to get to the bottom line of something without getting caught up in the details. (I suspect T.F. does find himself lost in the details quite frequently, he’s much more attached to the decorative curlicues of the world.) Graves clearly & frequently has no idea what’s going on, but he strips things down to the essentials very quick: Lucian’s story as a direct thematic mirror to Viego’s, Is There A Sun Lady – Oh, I See, all of this is weird and creepy and needs shooting, and maybe most crucial of all: Isolde doesn’t want to be with her husband anymore so what he’s doing is just like. Extra shitty. He gets what he needs to get and then just barges ahead heedlessly with that. Icon.)

- He’s actually pretty darn eloquent in a gruff sort of way and uses some quite sophisticated vocabulary! And the way this is contrasted with the tendency to slip into blunter coarser language just as readily -- like when he takes the time to describe the monster that takes down the Prince’s ship in such poetic terms as ‘gargantuan’ and ‘the behemoth’s immense, distended jaw’ and it having ‘pallid dead eyes the size of the moon’, and meanwhile during his swim at the beginning of the story we get bastard cold and bastard dark and full of bastard jellyfish and crabs – brings me such immense and unending delight

- He’s more eloquent in his internal voice than he is when speaking (especially noticeable in Destiny and Fate; he does have a tendency to fumble his words when talking lol), and he gets quite easily lost in his own meandering reflective musings in a way I find incredibly endearing. I’d almost call it whimsical at times, honestly, hilarious as that is? Like when he’s literally so absorbed in a line of thought he forgets which way they’re rowing and T.F. has to remind him. (I think T.F. generally has more of a grip of what’s going on around them than Graves does lol)

- There’s an important distinction to be made that Graves actually does, by and large, read T.F: very closely and seemingly also pretty damn accurately. He’s good at (and clearly very interested in) reading his moods, spotting what tactics he’s using interpersonally, when he’s being genuine and when he’s being dissembling.

What Graves is actually bad at is understanding his own emotions, and to not bleed those emotions into other people’s motivations and behavior, especially when he’s upset or in heightened states of feeling, like he is all the way through Burning Tides. He can only name his own feelings in a vocabulary of anger, when it’s pretty clear from the subtext that there’s a whole bunch of other stuff going on there, and he has incredible trouble divorcing those feelings from what other people’s got going on with them right then. He feels hurt, betrayed, and undone by everything that’s happened to him, so the intention to hurt, betray and undo must live in the other person who he feels caused it. In less drastic cases you see him do this a bit when he feels like T.F. is being evasive with him – taking it as a form of rejection rather than realizing T.F. is just lost in his own thoughts, sort of thing. There’s a real improvement in this one between Burning Tides and Destiny and Fate, though, so maybe he’ll have an easier time of it with some time and practice.

Sorry it took so long to get back to you on this and that it’s a bit of a rambling mess, words have been real hard recently. Or rather I have too many words, all the time, left and right, I just can’t put them into the right orders to make any sense hahaha, I hope there’s some useful point in this somewhere for you at least!

#hopefully this makes some kind of sense my brain is in... a state but it was actually really nice to just focus on some character analysis!#tf x graves #league of legends #twisted fate

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