#Also the reputation red snake sweater??? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stanknotstark · 3 years ago

Text

Odinson M.D. (Loki x reader) Pt. 1

I’m excited for this series honestly. I’m doing a lot of research so I write this medically correct tho, if yall see anything wrong don’t be afraid to tell me ^^

Summary: Y’all wanted a House AU so here it is. Loki is a doctor who keeps most people at bay with his sharp wit and sarcasm. He doesn’t understand the need for romantic ploys and casual human discussion. He thrives in the hospital, trying to figure out the unknown, even if his methods turn a bit morally ambiguous at times. That’s why he has Thor and Frigga to keep him in line although he would argue he has no need for it. You just happen to be a doctor on tenure under Loki’s tutelage along with Steve Rogers and Peter Parker. Can you convince the jaded doctor you’re just what he needs to keep him on his toes?

Loki feels the, what had started as pin pricks now, full blown boredom eating away at his overactive mind. He folds sticky notes, from his rolling chair, into small balls and flicks them over to his brother, Thor, who stands fiddling with a broken, plastic Santa sitting on the desk they hang around. Thor proudly wears his white lab coat on top of a nice plaid button down and brown, pressed slacks. Loki prefers to stick to his more casual clothes, if not a bit fashionable for casual, for a doctor. He wears a black cashmere sweater with gray, pressed slacks, a nice pair of oxfords to finish his style. It’s enough to keep him warm during the winter season.

Christmas, such a mainstream holiday. Loki abhors this season what with all the festive cheer and decorations that litter NYC. You can’t walk two feet without being guilted into giving money to the people who stand on corners with bells for the Salvation Army. You can’t buy something nice without a cashier smiling at you, as if all knowing, and asking who you’re giving this gift to with cheerfulness in their high pitched voices. What he especially hates is that Odin expects him to show up to the family dinner every Christmas, seeing as Thor has a wife and has to spend half his time with her family. Loki is the black sheep that’s expected to pick up where his brother has neglected. All in all, Loki would demolish this one holiday from existence if he had the even the slightest chance.

The only good thing about being a doctor was that meant he could get away from most of the holiday by working through it. He couldn’t always escape the dinners seeing as his mother, Frigga, was of administration and Dean of Medicine on his floor. Not only did that hinder him but his father owned the hospital, so he was at a disadvantage, if only by a bit.

“We are condemned to useless labor.” Loki sighs out, his fingers playing with another yellow sticky note, crushing it into a ball.

“Fourth circle of hell,” Thor replies with a roll of his eyes as a paper ball launches towards him, hitting him in the cheek before falling to the ground. “Charting goes a lot faster when you eliminate all classic poetry, brother.” Thor says lightly. A suggestive twitch of his lips all Thor gives to a bored Loki.

Loki takes time from making paper balls to look over at the pile of charts next to him, sitting on the clinic’s lobby desk, waiting for his attention. He’s sure if the charts came to life they would resemble a dog, desperate for attention, wagging its tail with excitement when he finally looks at it. “Writing down what we already know to be read by nobody,” Loki brings his attention back to making another paper ball, completely ignoring the fact that Thor had rolled his eyes so hard he probably has a headache. “Pretty sure Dante would qualify that as useless,” Loki says lightly, a frown on his lips.

“You’re two weeks behind on your charting!” Thor says with exasperation, stopping his fiddling with the Santa to look at Loki as if he had offended Thor personally.

Loki flicks another ball at Thor, however he misses his target and, it sails past Thor, hits Frigga on the chest whom had just walked into the clinic. She watches the paper fall to the ground, giving Loki a look of disappointment. The man gives his mother an innocent smile from his seat. “Oops! I missed.”

“Are you eight years old?” The poised woman asks with a squint in her eyes as she walks over to the side of the desk Loki and Thor reside at. She picks up one of Loki’s charts and reads it with flickering eyes.

“Could an eight year old do this?” Loki asks, catching Frigga’s eyes, and sticks his tongue out at his mother who rolls her eyes. What is it about Loki that causes everyone to roll their eyes? Something he’ll never get the answer to, not because he can’t but because he doesn’t care enough to find the answer when it’s so painfully obvious.

Loki’s mother lifts Loki’s chart, she had picked up, a little higher as if trying to garner Loki’s attention, after she had finished reading through it, and looks at him with frustration. “You have a patient in exam one, Loki.”

Loki settles further into the rolling chair, throwing the pad of sticky notes on the desk, bringing his hands together over his stomach and lacing his fingers. Loki embodies the epitome of comfort and relaxation. He shrugs. “Yes but see I’m off at twelve and it’s already five off...” He shakes his head minutely with a look that says ‘Not much I can do’. He’s rather hoping his mother will let him off the hook this one time. He knows she has a soft spot for him and takes full advantage of that. Thor remains quiet on the matter, playing with the plastic Santa that’s supposed to sing when you press its button.

“She’s been waiting for you since eleven.” Frigga says with finality. Setting his chart down, Loki swears he could hear a gravel slamming down, and then she leaves but not without a pointed look at Loki. This meant Loki isn’t getting away this time. He sits there with his lips pursed and a frown etched into his eyebrows as he watches her retreating form.

“Melancholy without hope, which circle is that?” Loki pointedly asks Thor who looks at him with a sympathetic look only causing Loki to scoff and rolls his eyes as he stands, grabs his cane, and makes his way towards exam room one.

Loki limps into the room, already conscientious about his gold and green cane, making sure it doesn’t hit the wall as he slips into the exam room.

Looking back Loki doesn’t regret the choices his made on the cane. The man liked attention from the right people. He hates most casual people seeing as he usually finds them boring, predictable, and the need for small talk not something he takes much joy from. The cane definitely stood out and was the starter of conversation for common man that passed him by, unfortunately. This wasn’t enough to make Loki regret his ostentatious picks on his cane though.

The cane itself is light but durable. The stabilizer at the bottom had four anti-slip feet, covered by a wide quad base, all black and shiny. The cane, in all its glory, was emerald green, specifically requested by Loki, and had snakes engraved in the metal base. The snake outline, repeated around the entire cane, were then dusted in gold and, shined pretty and proper when in the sun. The snakes that run from the bottom to the top, run up the cane with open mouths as if devouring the brethren that followed up the last snake. When they reach the top of the cane, the handle’s edge, they stopped. The handle itself was covered in pure gold. The inside of it was carbon so it was lighter to carry but still very durable. The handle was fashioned after the head of a Black Mamba. Sleek and slim but one of the deadliest, most venomous snakes in the world. A symbol of Loki’s true power, or at least that’s what he told anyone that asks. In all honesty, Loki had picked the Black Mamba head because he thought it looked cute. He had a reputation to uphold, however.

Loki pushes his way into the exam room to find three nuns, one on the medical bed with two nuns on each side. As he closes the door he turns his head so he may let his eyes go wide without the women seeing his exasperated look. He turns his head back after the door is closed and he reins in his emotions.

“Hi, I’m doctor Odinson,” Loki supplies the three women, setting his cane aside in the room and looking up at the women with a small tilt of his lips. “What seems to be the problem?” He asks the woman sitting on the bed.

“Show him your hands, Augustine,” One of the sisters demands of Augustine, the woman on the bed Loki tabs in his head.

As the woman shifts the cloth covering her hands Loki takes the time to pop a pain pill into his mouth, swallowing without water if only because he’s been taking them for years for his disability. The use of the word disability is new, seeing how he didn’t take to the word too kindly in the beginning. As of now, he has accepted it for what it is and calls it as it should be, a disability. Something that may hinder him but does not define who he is or ever shall be.

Sister Augustine lifts her hands in front of her and they shake a bit as she holds them out for Loki to examine. They look raw, red, and as if they’re wet but in reality it’s because they’re covered in an ointment and severe rash. They’re pruned as if they spent too much time in water. When she turns over her hands to show him the palms he notes that they’re also raw and red, but more so and bleeding probably from scratching.

“It looks like stigmata.” The sister on the right of Augustine needlessly announces to Loki, or possibly to no one in particular. The other sister on the left shushes at her. Loki has to resist the urge to roll his eyes at her remark. Of course this ignorant nun would condemn her sister for something as simple as an allergic reaction. She finds the rash to be a form of disgrace on her sister. Typical.

Loki steps forwards, his eyes on her hands, “Must be all the talk around the holy water cooler.” He lightly supplies the three sisters with a joke to break the tension that had risen from the sister’s remark of stigmata. His eyes come to rest on her hands and as he reaches up to hold them in his own says, “You been washing a lot of dishes lately?” Loki glances up at sister Augustine’s aloof face.

“I help out in the kitchen.” Augustine replies.

“Anything new in the kitchen?” Loki asks, trying to pinpoint what’s causing the rash.

“We just got a donation of pots and pans this week.” The nameless nun tells Loki which supplies Loki with an answer for her reaction. Dish soap, pots and pans wouldn’t have caused such a reaction.

“I unpacked and washed them.” Augustin gives Loki, trying to help him out.

“Should have spent your time saving souls,” Loki says, his natural sarcasm coming over him, “It’s easier on the hands.” He says with a face that could be taken as contrite but is actually irony. “This is contact dermatitis. You’re allergic to dish soap.” Loki tells the nuns, his mind bored with how easy this diagnoses is.

As Loki turns to write down his report in the chart one of the nameless nuns speaks up. “Nonsense! We’ve always used that soap, why would it be a problem now?” She asks Loki.

Loki lets his head tilt back as he looks at the ceiling with a playful look on his face. “I’ve been a doctor for years,” He looks at the nun who spoke up, “Why do I have to keep assuring people I know what I’m doing?” He asks rhetorically. Not only talking about the nuns, Loki thinks of the many times where he has had to convince his own mother, and brother, that he knew what he was doing, going so far as to proving it.

“A person can become allergic to substances they’ve had repeated and prolonged exposure to.” Loki explains, his eyebrow raising perfectly, as if asking if the sisters had any other remarks to make before he looks down at the chart for Augustine to write his report real quick.

Loki then makes his way to the cabinet and picks out a small box inside of it. “Good news is, free samples!” He gives a fake smile, and excited tone, to the nuns. “I’m giving you an antihistamine to stop the allergic reaction,” He explains his process. “Take one every eight hours, might make you sleepy, and get some over the counter Cortisone cream, for the itchiness.” Loki looks at sister Augustine to make sure she understood his words, nodding at her when she gives an understanding nod, then handing her two pills from the box he had pulled from the cabinet.

“Thank you, doctor.” Augustine says with a small smile and nod.

“Want me to get some water?” Loki asks the women.

“I have some tea!” A nameless nun says, grabbing her thermos and giving it to Augustine.

Loki nods at the nun and backs up to pick up the chart. “Relax for a minute, the pills work pretty fast.” Then he leaves the room thinking he is done for the day in the clinic, thank god.

Loki throws the chart on top of his other charts he had left on the desk with Thor, in the lobby, and sighs as he limps around the desk and to Thor’s side.

“Still out by twelve.” Thor says, more so to grate on Loki’s nerves than anything.

Loki lets it go but replies, “How do you solve the problem of dermatitis.”

“Doctor? I want to thank you for your patience.” A sister says interrupting the conversation Loki was about to have with Thor. One of the sisters from Augustine’s side now stands in the clinic’s lobby with Loki and Thor. Her face showing she genuinely means it.

Loki manages to give Thor a disparaging look when he asks, “She talking to you?” As if shocked Loki was getting any kind of compliment. Loki can’t fault him there, he isn’t used to getting compliments either. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t bask in it but it is a little uncomfortable.

“I don’t know, she’s certainly looking at me...” Loki says back to Thor, shifting his weight from foot to foot in discomfort. He turns, watches, as the sister makes her way over to him, standing a little over a foot away. Enough distance to be comfortable since she is a stranger but a little too close for Loki’s comfort anyways. He hates people, so physical, so sentimental.

“It’s so good to get a secular diagnosis.” The nun offers Loki with a gratified look on her face, her body swaying with her words like she really means them.

Loki feels the frown come over his face and he tilts his head down at the sister.

“The sisters tend to interpret their diagnosis as divine intervention.” The nun explains to a bewildered Loki.

“And you don’t?” Loki asks, his voice not betraying his confusion but it’s definitely there. This sister is very...different from regular nuns, he can already tell. Her ideologies being promulgated so plainly are leaving Loki in an almost disoriented state. “Then you’re wearing an awfully funny hat.” Loki says, his sarcasm coming out to hide his true feelings on this whole conversation. The sister merely tilts her head with a look that says ‘Very funny’.

“Oh boy.” Thor whispers behind Loki. Loki can feel him shifting as if he wants to escape this situation just as much as Loki. “Excuse me.” Thor says grabbing all his charts and reports so he may make a swift exit. Loki glances back at Thor, his face now shifting from its usual neutrality to a look of perplexity and a hint of longing as he wants to leave too. Loki looks back to the sister, hiding his emotions again as she speaks.

“If I break my leg I believe it happened for a reason. I believe God wanted me to break my leg,” The sister says, her face showing nothing short than utter earnestness that almost makes Loki gag. “I also believe he wants me to put a cast on it.” The sister finishes causing Loki’s lips to twitch upwards and forget his brief nausea. He likes her, something no one that truly knew him would take lightly.

“Doctor! Something’s wrong!” The other sister says loudly as she races into the lobby. This breaks the little moment the sister was having with Loki and he stands at attention.

They all make their way back to exam room one with hast in their steps and Loki’s limp.

When Loki enters the room he finds Augustine to be hunched over, rapidly breathing but the air is filled with wheezes as if she can’t get breath into her lungs. Loki quickly tabs this as an asthmatic attack but grabs his stethoscope and brings it up to her chest. “Lift up your chin.” He demands softly, letting the stethoscope land on her chest when she does and moves it from the left to the right side listening to her lungs and heart as she panically breathes in faster.

“Sister you’re having an asthma attack, I need you to relax,” Loki drops the stethoscope from her chest, taking it from his ears, and turns to the drawers in the room, “Roll up her sleeve, please.” He demands of the sister next to him. He quickly picks up an syringe from the drawer he opened and turns back to sister Augustine. “I’m going to give you epinephrine,” He explains. “It will open your lungs and help you breathe.”

Loki uncaps the shot, by mouth, and quickly sticks the sister’s arm, injecting the liquid components of the epinephrine into her upper arm with fluid movements as if he’s done this a thousand times before, because he has.

Loki looks up at sister Augustine to assess the situation. The cap of the needle still in his mouth which he lightly grinds around with his teeth, almost nervous but not quite.

Everything is quiet for a moment. Loki takes this time to remove the needle from the sister’s arm and replace it with a cotton ball which he presses to her skin with moderate strength to stop any blood flow that may have followed the intrusion.

“What happened?” One of the sisters ask.

Loki foregoes the answer to that question to ask his own, “Did she take the pill?” He looks at the sister next to him, the one that had warned him of the situation and had stayed behind with sister Augustine. The one that had called it stigmata.

“Yes.” She says in a tone that betrays confusion and defensiveness.

“It’s an allergic reaction.” Loki explains ignoring the sister’s emotions at his question.

“She’s allergic to an anti-allergy medicine?” The same sister asks in an incredulous tone now.

Sister Augustine sits there taking in small mouthfuls of air, as if she now understands breathing is a commodity. Her body is still hunched over as she grabs at the medical bed with a white knuckled grip. Loki looks at her sympathetically. “How are you feeling?” He asks thinking about what variations he can use to treat her allergic reaction on her hands now that the blood rushing experience is over. “I’ll put you on some steroids instead.” He decides out loud, capping the syringe he used and throwing it away in the designated red safety box.

“Is my heart supposed to be feeling so funny?” Sister Augustine asks breathlessly, Loki watching as she brings a hand up to grab at her chest.

“It’s called adrenaline, makes the heart beat fast.” Loki says flippantly but puts two fingers on her pulse point on her wrist just to check if it’s something worth looking into. Loki looks at Augustine with concern, his eyes flitting around the room in thought, “But not this fast.”

Sister Augustine takes in a deep breath, wheezing again.

“Get a nurse, please.” He tells one of the sisters in a calm but pressing tone.

Sister Augustine leans into Loki’s body with a whimper and he grabs her so he may lightly rest her on the bed in a supine position. He leans over her watching her and trying to figure out what’s wrong, what could possibly be causing this, and how to fix it, fast.

“Somebody help!” Loki hears the nun call outside the room.

His attention is diverted when sister Augustine passes out. He quickly puts the stethoscope in his ears and puts the diaphragm on her chest, checking for her heart beat first, then her lungs. There is no comforting beat to be heard and her breathing has completely stopped as if it never existed, pulling this situation from a simple allergic reaction to something far, far more serious than Loki had anticipated.

“Somebody get in here!” Loki yells out frustrated no one has answered their calls for help. Finally a nurse in blue scrubs comes in, realizing the situation is of immediate emergency and looks at Loki so she may help.

“Call a code and charge up the defibrillator, she’s got no pulse.” He says speedily, starting to perform CPR on sister Augustine. The nurse flees from the room in record time to grab a defibrillator and yell at someone to call a code blue.

Loki manages CPR for a few minutes until the defib team comes in and takes over. They only barely manage to bring sister Augustine back to life.

Loki stands at the doorway, the two other sister next to him praying, he bites at his thumb. His mind is racing with the need for an answer. What caused this? What was he missing? It’s an allergic reaction, there’s no doubt about that, nonetheless he can’t figure out why everything he tried sent her into further shock. She couldn’t possibly have been allergic to everything he gave her, antihistamine and epinephrine. There is a factor here that he doesn’t know about, something is missing, and he would figure it out if it was the last thing he did.

Loki barely glances at one of the sisters as they take a drink from a thermos before going back to saying their Hail Mary’s.

Tagging (because they showed interest for this series): @rosaline-black @blueberrynonnie

I won’t tag yall in any other posts unless you specify you’d like that! i just wanted you both to know i started it and if you’d still be interested 😊

64 notes · View notes

statelies · 3 years ago

Photo

( * 💀 / jessie mei li, questioning, she/they ) — is that emmeline vance i just saw rushing down the corridor? i hear they’re a twenty year old hufflepuff, returning for their sixth school year, but their friends would tell you that they are industrious & compassionate as well as blunt & graceless. if you want to know more about them, i guess i could tell you that they’re muggleborn, and from what i hear, they’re currently allying with the order. when our divination professor looks into their crystal ball, they see: falling asleep studying over open books, split open pomegranates, working under flickering candlelight, casual intimacy between friends, a kitchen full of laughter.

CHARACTER INSPIRATION: Izzie Stevens (Grey’s Anatomy), Callie Torres (Grey’s Anatomy) (+ Sara Ramirez, the they/she icon we all deserve), Kara Danvers (Supergirl), Charles Boyle (Brooklyn 99), Alina Starkov (Shadow and Bone), Janet (Not a Girl) (The Good Place), Penelope Garcia (Criminal Minds).

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Implied Racism.

LINKS: Pinterest. Playlist (Coming Soon).

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒

I N T R O

full name ➵ Emmeline Huan Vance

nicknames ➵ Emmy; Emma; Line; Em; Melly; Melsy; Vance; Hurricane

pronouns ➵ she/they/her/them

birthdate / age ➵ October 24th, 1959, 09:47 am / 20 years old

birthplace ➵ Brighton, East Sussex

childhood home ➵ Unknown home in Brighton, East Sussex — 162 Orchard Croft, Harlow, Essex

current residence ➵ Hogwarts, Scotland

religion ➵ agnostic; paternal grandparents were Methodist ( Protestant ) while maternal grandparents were also Christian

occupation ➵ full - time student at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry

P H Y S I C A L

height ➵ 5 feet, 2 inches / 157.5 cm

weight ➵ 48 kg / 106lb

body type ➵ hourglass shaped figure

hair ➵ dark brown, bordering on black; soft and wavy

eye color ➵ dark brown

dominant hand ➵ right

FC ➵ Jessie Mei Li

voice ➵ Jessie Mei Li

special characteristics ➵

small waist

has a birthmark on her right ankle that looks like an apple

pierced septum

smells of ➵

lavender hand lotion

pomegranate

cardamom, jasmine and orange blossom perfume

E M O T I O N A L

zodiac ➵ scorpio sun (x); sagittarius rising; cancer moon

MBTI ➵ ISFJ (“The Defender”)

positive traits ➵ industrious; compassionate; generous; warmhearted; benevolent; selfless; observant; honest; personable; kind.

negative traits ➵ blunt; graceless; meticulous; well-meaning; impatient; internalizes feelings; oversensitive; tactless; overbearing; clumsy.

likes ➵ Pumpkin pasties; duelling club; laughter; the rush of incoming patients; cooking for friends; Ballycastle Bats; Diagon Alley; being barefoot at the beach; roadtrips; apple juice; hugs from friends; nicknames; vanilla candles; the heat of a boiling cauldron; Sugar Quills; warm sweaters; pizza; pomegranate seeds; cheek kisses; taking photographs; finishing essays early; coffee with milk and two sugars; Queen; Aston Villa; cats

dislikes ➵ spam (the food); apparition; the Daily Prophet; starless nights; Kenmare Kestrels; karaoke; losing bets; skinned knees; snakes; pigeons; the colour fuschia (it’s too bright); ticking clocks; banana flavouring; funerals; Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans; Celestina Warbeck; mayonnaise; blue M&Ms; her lao ye; the word mudblood; leprechauns; fans of Kenmare Kestrels; losing football matches; witch Halloween costumes; rugby

amortentia ➵

birthday cake

fresh mint

old books

orange blossom

M A G I C

blood status ➵ muggleborn

wand ➵ Aspen, dragon heartstring core, 8 inches, hard

wand-quality aspen wood is white and fine-grained, and highly prized by all wand-makers for its stylish resemblance to ivory and its usually outstanding charmwork. The proper owner of the aspen wand is often an accomplished duellist, or destined to be so, for the aspen wand is one of those particularly suited to martial magic. An infamous and secretive eighteenth-century duelling club, which called itself The Silver Spears, was reputed to admit only those who owned aspen wands. In my experience, aspen wand owners are generally strong-minded and determined, more likely than most to be attracted by quests and new orders; this is a wand for revolutionaries.

patronus ➵ Hippo

E D U C A T I O N

Hogwarts class ➵ Hufflepuff, 1981

extracurriculars ➵

Hufflepuff Prefect / September 1979 - June 1981

Herbology Club & Greenhouse Keepers / September 1977 - June 1981

Toothill Duelling Club / September 1979 - June 1981

Wenlock Study Club / September 1979 - June 1981

courses & exams ➵

Ancient Runes - O

Astronomy - E

Charms - O

Defense Against the Dark Arts - O

Herbology - O

History of Magic - O

Muggle Studies - O

Potions - O

Transfiguration - O

Care of Magical Creatures - E

M I S C E L L A N E O U S

health ➵

walnut allergy

hayfever

pets ➵

Jíngyi; the long-eared owl

Shu; the white cat

handwriting ➵ Abuget

F A M I L Y

Deirdre (née Wilkinson) Vance ➵ paternal grandmother; retired nurse; deceased May. 1980

Edward Vance ➵ grandfather; retired soldier and miner; deceased Jan. 1980

Xiulan Wong ( Wong Xiulan ) ➵ maternal grandmother (lao lao); homeschooled; housewife; alive

Da Wong ( Wong Da ) ➵ maternal grandfather (lao ye); homeschooled; shop-owner; alive

Dr. Cillian Vance ➵ father; worked for/with the Red Cross UK (and the Hong Kong Red Cross); alive

Mei (née Wong) Vance ➵ mother; teaching assistant; alive

𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌

emmeline had always known they were different. at first, it was because of her skin, the way she looked and spoke and could never find anyone to play with on the playground, her chinese middle name and her lao lao being the one to pick her up from school every morning. she would cry to her mother at night, cling to her arms like they were the port keeping her safe from the storm, and listen to her father sing, voice warm and tender as she drifted to sleep, but she never got the answers for why she was treated differently — never got answers for why she was the only non-white child in her school, never got answers for why they hated her so much, hated her existence. but she weathered through primary school, finding her footing in secondary school with her only friend, aisha, who never cared that she was different, that sometimes she could do things that nobody else seemed able to do, that she’d been encouraged to always tell the truth, nothing but the truth, that sometimes she’d say things that hurt, things that stung even though she never meant for them to.

for a while, the feeling of being wholly different faded, or at least, emmeline didn’t notice it quite so prominently anymore, and then suddenly it appeared again — but this time it had been because she didn’t know if she always felt like a girl. not a girl in the traditional sense, anyway, not some days. she liked dresses and fancy heeled shoes and tiaras, but found herself equally at home in plaid shirts and her father’s way-too-big suit jacket and kicking around a football, and for a half-asian barely a teenage… person (she’s still working on it), suspended constantly between two identities, it confused them (even though they’re perfectly aware now that those things are superficial, but the feeling still remains). the only person they ever talked to about it back then was aisha — their lifeline, their best friend, the one their parents reluctantly approved of because they had been so lonely for so long. while aisha was crushing on boys, sweaty and loud and just this side of too teasing, and starting to wear makeup and changing herself, emmeline was trying to find where she fit in, trying to understand who she was, who she is, why they feel so different.

in the midst of all that, emmeline’s letter to hogwarts came. just another difference for emmeline to feel, the knowledge that they have magic was unexpected and tore her family in two. the family she loved - her mother, her father, her lao lao and lao ye, and granny and pops - all had differing opinions on whether or not to accept it, whether or not to send them to school and deal with the fact, up front, that emmeline was, and always would be, special. in the end, emmeline’s pops snuck her out, following instructions from a professor mcgonagall, to find diagon alley, the place where emmeline suddenly felt she fit in. she could feel the magic in the air, could feel it almost crackling in the space around her, almost inviting her in. of course, it took some time — a little too much time, really — to buy everything she needed, and when she cried into her ice cream on the way home, overwhelmed and tired and feeling so many things, he was the one who held her all the way home.

he and their granny were the only ones there to send them off the hogwarts that first year, their parents reluctant to accept anything so unnatural about their child, but emmeline hardly cared at the time (even though it hit them later that night and they sobbed into their pillow), too excited to remember to even wave, too excited to remember to cry because she was leaving behind the only friend she’d ever truly known, and when they saw hogwarts, that castle appearing, they just knew. they were home. she knows, after years and years of being torn between two identities on so many different fronts, that people aren’y happy she’s here, happy she has magic, happy she calls this place her home away from home, that she laughs loud at the hufflepuff table and wears yellow and black face paint for quidditch matches and tried out for the muggle football team, but there’s nothing they can say to change who she is, her pride in the blood flowing through her veins, in the magic at her fingertips. emmeline’s always known they’re different, but having magic, being home at hogwarts, is the first time she’s ever felt proud to be so.

#revelio.intro #emmeline;#god this is actually a mess but i am way too tired to deal with it #SDFKJDSF #so! here's. something ig. i'll decide if i hate this after i pass out and wake up tomorrow lmfao #implied racism cw #racism cw #i guess????#it's mentioned so briefly.#but #better safe than sorry

24 notes · View notes

love-patient-0s-writing-world · 4 years ago

Text

Thorns

Shuichi x Reader

Class: SFW

Word Count: 2k

CW: Hanahaki, blood, cursing/swearing, a few headcanons of mine about hanahaki slipped through, tiny bit of Kaede slander(sorry), jealousy, Harukaito, Ishimondo, talk of death,

Part: 1, 2(coming soon)

Note: Sorry this took so long! Life in general happened and this story got out of hand and a lot longer than expected, so I’m chopping it up into parts. Also please let me know if you’d like me to add something to the CW.

‘Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid STUPID.....I’m so fucking stupid’ why did I have to fall for him of all people, the boy who very obviously likes someone else and that somebody else clearly reciprocates them; it’s only a matter of time until either of them confesses and then their perfect love story would start, it was destined to be.....so why did this have to happen? This horrible tight feeling in your chest, the cuts that were littered through out your esophagus and mouth, the awful myriad of vibrant rose petals and fully bloomed ones accompanied by their thorny stems which were stained pink with blood.

It all started when you lost your sweater, running around the school searching like a mad man for it. That’s when you quite literally ran into the poor detective, you two were in the same grade and shared a few classes, you even sat behind him in homeroom but never really talked outside of the usual formalities, that was understandable due to your somewhat questionable reputation; so maybe caging him beneath you in the middle of a hallway wasn’t the best outside of class introduction. You very quickly got off him apologizing profusely, when you saw his bright red face only one word came to mind ‘cute’. You helped him get off the ground, remembering about your missing sweater you decide to ask if he’s seen it. “Hey Shuichi, you wouldn’t have happened to see a (F/C) sweater anywhere have you?” he took a second to respond “No I haven’t seen one, sorry” “It’s ok don’t worry about it, besides I’m the one who lost it” trying to sound as reassuring as possible.

“Well...I better get back on the hunt-” but before you could say goodbye he interrupted you “I-I can help you look for it if you want?” “Well I guess having another pair of eyes isn’t bad, plus you’re the Ultimate Detective right?” “Y-yeah.” you started walking down the hallway without warning. He followed after you quickly like a lost puppy, both of you walk into various classrooms getting more and more disheartened when you didn’t find it. That’s when it hits you “I think I might know where it is. But you can’t tell anybody about where this place is, ok?” he looked rather hesitant but curiosity got the better of him “S-sure.” You waved for him to follow you and he did, as you walked towards the back of the school he started to get nervous “H-hey isn’t this the area where M-Mondo and his g-gang hang out in?” “Yes but there’s no need to worry...unless you need or want to leave then please feel free to go, you’ve already helped me a ton today.” You looked back at him with a reassuring smile “N-no...I’ll keep looking with you.” You just kept walking until you stopped in front of a door with the Crazy Diamonds logo on it, Shuichi just stared at the door with wide eyes. Before he could ask any questions you knocked on the metal door, a little window slides open “Heey (Y/N)!” “Heeey Ryuji!” but before he opened the door fully he saw Shuichi who was hiding behind you. “Who’s the runt?” “Don’t worry he’s with me.” you gently pulled him next to you. “...Alright, but he better not snitch.” “I made sure he wouldn’t.” You smlied at Ryuji as he opened the door to let you both in.

You leaned into him and whispered “Stay close.” he nodded and did just that. It was a rather large room with bikers and delinquents alike entertaining themselves, they had turned an abandoned storage area into a rather nice rec room. As the two of you walked towards the back of the room, you noticed how Shuichi was being jostled around. You snake an arm around his waist and pull him close to you “Sorry, but it wouldn’t be good if you got injured somehow because of me.” leaning in to whisper that in his ear, an extreme blush burned across his face “I-It’s ok.” You just tried to quicken the pace so you could let him go from your hold although for some reason you really didn’t want to. Once you reached the back you turned into a dark hallway with a door near the end, when you reached the door you knocked on it. He could hear shuffling from inside when all of a sudden the door swung open, causing him to jump a bit. Standing in front them was the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader, Mondo Owada “WHO THE FU-(Y/N)!?” his demeanor did a complete 180. The anger on his face melted off and his voice lost it’s gruffness “What are you doing here kid? You rarely ever come here after school.” before you could answer him, he looked over and saw Shuichi. He was shaking like a leaf when Mondo’s sharp gaze landed on him. “Who-” your arm was still wrapped around his waist, holding him close to you, this did not get past his sharp eyes “Heeeeyyyy! Did you come here to tell me that you finally got a piece of ass! Congrats kid!” he pat your shoulder as if you’d won an award. You stood there silent from shock, sure you thought Shuichi was incredibly smart and extremely pretty even while he turned into a tomato right next to you. Your grip around him subconsciously tightened, when you finally shook off the shock. You were about to correct him and ask if you left your sweater here, but as usual you were cut off.

“Hey! That’s a very unwholesome thing to say! Especially to underclassmen, we’ve got to be a good example to them!” Taka marched up to the door and stood next to Mondo his face resembled that of an angry disapproving mother. He looked over to you and Shuichi “Hello (Y/N)!” “Hey Taka.” he stuck his hand out towards Shuichi “You must be (Y/N)’s boyfriend! What’s your name, are you an ultimate as well?” Shuichi hesitantly shook his hand “Uhhh...m-my name is Sh-Shuichi Saihara, I’m the Ultimate D-Detective.” he was clearly nervous and didn’t want to possibly upset them by correcting their assumption, at least that’s what you thought with the way he leaned further into you. Mondo started to chuckle a bit “Wow kid you’re more like me than I thought.” “What do you mean?” quirking an eyebrow at him “We’re both delinquents and are dating a goody two shoes.” “We’re not date-ing!” your voice cracked hard but you continued anyways “We’re just friends.” Mondo stared at you a bit before chuckling again the smile on his face getting bigger “Ahhhh I get it friends” you just sighed in defeat as the biker wiggled his eyebrows at the two of you.

Taka cleared his throat getting everyone’s attention “Anyways, (Y/N) what did you come here for?” by the sounds of it he already knew why you showed up. “I came to ask if I left my swea-” “Yes you did in fact leave your sweater here.” you could practically feel the lecture coming. He walked into the room and returned shortly, with a neatly folded (F/C) sweater in hand “You really shouldn’t forget your sweater, what if you or your...friend was freezing, you could’ve caught a cold!” ‘Wow he doesn’t believe me either’ snatching your sweater away from him “I know, I know” letting out a small sigh ‘finally I can leave’. “Alright we’re going to leave now!” “Alright kiddo! I’m sure you and your friend will have lots of fun together!” you started to walk away faster with Shuich still glued to your side. When you both were out of earshot Mondo slung his arm around Taka “How come every relationship that’s with an ultimate detective is kept secret?”

You quickly walked towards the exit before anyone else could embarrass you even further. Pushing open the slightly heavy metal door you said a quick ‘bye’ to Ryuji, as soon as the door slammed closed behind you, you let out a sigh of relief. Shuichi was obviously tense but as you let out the soft sigh he relaxed significantly into your side, to an outsider it would’ve looked like you two really were a...couple. ‘OH SHIT MY ARM IS STILL AROUND HIM’ you had to coax the limb into letting go of him especially with the way he had melted into you. It must have taken him a moment to realize that he was no longer in your arms, he took a large step to the side his cheeks flushed pink “S-sorry!” “It’s fine, no need to apologize.” giving him a soft smile. You took a few steps forward hinting at him to follow you and he did, quickly standing by your side again as you brought him back to the ‘safer’ area of the school. “So...uhmm how do you know Mondo” “That’s a looong story....but you don’t need to worry about him” you got close to him and whispered “he’s actually a huge softie once you get to know him.” Giggling when you remembered how the big bad biker started crying over a small stray puppy. His cheeks were a light pink when you looked back at him a small smile ghosting his face, ‘UGH he’s too cute I just wannna scoop him up and...NO, NO I DON’T’ scolding yourself mentally for thinking of something like that, Mondo must have really messed with your mind when he kept talking about dating.

You sighed as you continued on autopilot to the front of the school, somehow forgetting the subject of your VERY UNTRUE thoughts was walking right alongside you. Feeling the cool breeze on your skin made a shiver run down your spine, so you put on the sweater that caused you so much of hastle today. As you slipped it on a soft voice snapped you back into reality “(Y-Y/N)....” “Mhm?” Your eyes drifted over to the fidgeting boy next to you, while straightening out the sweater. You stared at him as he seemed to plan out his words carefully, he’d open his mouth only to close it again, it was actually kinda cute...’AAAAHHH WHY DO I KEEP THINKING LIKE THIS!’ you wanted to slam your head into the concrete wall that surrounded the school. He took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh, effectively grabbing your attention. “A-are you heading h-home?” his voice got quieter ‘Huh?’ “Yeah.” ‘So that’s what he was so nervous to ask?’ You thought to yourself for a moment after seeing his what seems permanently tinted cheeks and shy smile, looking away from him to get an unbiased answer ‘Should I...no this is just a one time thing, I shouldn’t get attached to him.’ You turned back to the blushing boy “Well...I gotta go home, thank you for all your help today Shuichi.” a sweet smile on your face “N-no problem.” You started your walk home but before you stepped out onto the sidewalk you turned around and waved him goodbye, he waved back.

Now it was back to your ordinary life, popping in your earbuds as you made your way back home. When you reached it you opened the door to the almost always empty house, you plopped your bag and stared at the books peaking out cringing a bit at all the homework you need to complete. ‘Well at least I just have one more day until the weekend’ letting out a sigh as you grab the needed books and notebooks to start, it was surprisingly easy so when you finally finished it you went about your usual routine until you decided to crawl into bed. You stared at the ceiling thinking about what exactly happened today, you could feel your heartbeat quicken as his flushed face and soft smile appeared in your brain, instead of shaking it out of your mind you let yourself indulge in the thoughts as you drifted off to sleep; cuddling into one of your plush pillows with a sleepy smile on your face.

I really hope you enjoyed reading this! Apologies for not posting much writing but that is soon to change! Remember to drink water, eat something and get plenty of rest! Feel free to return whenever you want traveler, take care!💜

~Love Patient 0

#🌹x reader rose🌹#shuichi saihara x reader #shuichi x reader #danganronpa killing harmony #killing harmony #ndrv3 #drv3 #ndrv3 shuichi #shuichi saihara #shuichi #hanahaki

37 notes · View notes

indigobackfire · 4 years ago

Text

HPHM MC Profile ✧

Indigo Silverwood

“ Getting near you is like stretching my hand into an open flame. I know I’ll burn myself, yet I crave the heat. ”

Nicknames: Indie. Didi (only by family). Silverwood. Silvie (by people who don't bother learning her name).

Gender: Female.

Birthday: 6th of March, 1973.

Born: Edinburgh, Scotland.

Mother: Clarin (née Tramer) Silverwood - Half-blood, Ravenclaw, English.

Father: Palmer Silverwood - Pureblood, Slytherin, Scottish.

Siblings: Jacob Silverwood (b. 1968), Phoenix Nobleworth Silverwood (b. 1973) - Phoenix was adopted after the death of his parents when he was just a couple of months old.

Ethnicity: Scottish, English, (probably with some Spanish roots).

Sexuality: Straight.

MBTI Type: ENFP-A

Blood Status: Half-blood (by her muggle grandmother on her mother's side).

Hogwarts House: Gryffindor.

Appearance

Eyes: Naturally yellow/golden/amber (nobody knows why, since their parent’s eyes are brown) but both hers and Jacob's eyes are like this). She wears glasses for her Astigmatism.

Hair: Naturally dark brown, but she asked her mother to turn it red when she turned 8 and doesn't plan on undoing it any soon.

• She’s average tall and reasonably strong build, honey-brown skin littered with scars from venturing with the vaults and being freaking attacked by dark wizards, big hands and feet due to her height. A large chest that grows at once in her 4th year (”Everybody's starring, Rowan!”).

• She keeps her nails short. Her makeup is often down to just some lipstick (mascara smudges her glasses, eye shadow irritates her eyes), her hair is often long wavy and fluffed for extra volume. She often smells like coconut oil from all the creams her mother insisted she used.

• She looks a lot like her father which gives her a rather rough look - like a handsome but wild animal - yet has enough of her mother’s attributes to be considered attractive and poise if well-groomed.

Magical Aspects

1st Wand: Red Oak wood with Dragon Heartstring core, 12″, pliable. "The true match for a red oak wand is possessed of unusually fast reactions, making it a perfect dueling wand. Its ideal master is light of touch, quick-witted and adaptable, often the creator of distinctive spells, and a good person to have beside in a fight." Indigo had good times with her red oak wand but as the years went by, her emotions start affecting the wand's efficiency. The wand would bleed a glowing red light in moments of extreme physical or emotional pain and become extremely unstable.

2nd Wand: Beechwood with Thestral hair core, 13", rigid flexibility. "The true match for a beech wand will be, if young, wise beyond their years, and if full-grown, rich in understanding and experience. Beech wands perform very weakly for the narrow-minded and intolerant. When properly matched, the beech wand is capable of a subtlety and artistry rarely seen in any other wood, hence its lustrous reputation." Indigo has a hard time adapting to her new wand, it's stubborn to her spells and acts upon its own will especially considering its unusual and unstable core, Thestral hair, which is of unknown habilities, except for its use in the mythical, Elder wand. Her wand is one of a kind which is why she has to adapt her abilities to match the wand's requirements. Despite all, it's a remarkable instrument for undoing curses/spells and detecting danger.

Animagus: Somali cat. She's already certain she wants to be a cat animagus - harmless, of easy blend, and enables an approach to humans -, but decides for the Somali breed, during the process, for its sumptuous golden fur and agility.

Patronus: Kangaroo, for its fighting spirit and family values, not to mention its strength. (In-game it's the Abraxan, but only because I thought it would be cool.)

Patronus memory: (During the first times) Her first Quidditch match, not just because they won but because everyone she loves from Hogwarts was there, and she got to cheer their victory together. (Later years) Her family gathering for hot cocoa during a rainy night with Jacob with them.

Abilities: Legilimency, and great emotional influence over magic (Don't get her frightened or angry or she will blow you up).

Boggart: Her boggart changes constantly - she can't decide if it's either because she overcame the old fears, or if the new ones toppled those, creating a pile of fears. And since the new DADA teacher is always teaching Riddikulus again and again, the famous curse-breaker is always the most awaited in the line.

Jacob, eyes dark and musty, clothes covered in blood, someone's blood. He walks to her and slowly raises his sleeve, the Death mark is craved deep in his flesh and it glows. Behind him, it rises the Dark Lord.

Riddikulus: He turns into a younger version of himself from a photograph she recalls laughing about with her mom (he's running wearing a loaded diaper, crazy hair, rosy cheeks).

For a while is someone in a cloak threatening to cast the killing curse over her friends, whispering each of their names like a snake but she's frozen unable to stop them.

Riddikulus: The cloak falls to reveal a bunch of gnomes piled up wearing wigs and makeup.

For another, very realistic corpses of all of her friends spread at her feet, a dark wizard across from her, it's over and there isn't anything she can do to save them anymore - it was a grim day in DADA, but they all wanted to see it didn't they?

Riddikulus: This is the one time she fails to defeat a boggart, letting the horrible scene consume her, she falls to her knees defeated, and even after Rakepick's shouting, when she tries to cast the spell, it fails again and again.

This last boggart came to show everyone around her how truly terrified she was, not for her own life, but for that of those around her. How despite the confidence she was constantly displaying, in reality, she was afraid she couldn't save them from whatever was trying to get her.

Amortentia: Her Amortentia smells like Jacob's cologne — which he used to borrow from their father which is why she recalls so easily —, fresh Catnip ever since she became an animagus, bakings just out of the oven — extra intensity if there's chocolate involved, and freshly washed sweaters (from hugging Barney and the Weasleys).

Mirror of Erised: She's under the shadow of a tree, Jacob on one side along with Phoenix and Aspen, Barnaby's head resting on her lap, Rowan by her side, and Orion for some reason. They're laughing and reading books, it's an eternal spring afternoon.

Miscellaneous

Pets: A Sphynx cat, Mocca, a brown and white rat, Franccesca, and (later in her Hogwarts years) a Great Horned owlet, Plum.

Things she always carries with her: Her wand (duh), a handmade Gryffindor bracelet that used to belong to Jacob, the Handbook of Magical Theory, a handful of peppermints, a pouch with some money, a flask of Wideye potion, some Murtlap Essence, and a family photo during Christmas of 1980.

Lucky Amulets: She has a dream catcher made by Phoenix from feathers he shed during transformations and a "broken" knight from Murphy's chessboard who decided to leave the game for good and now sleeps on Indigo's nightstand with its horse, she likes stroking the horse the night before every Quidditch match

Best Friends

Her brother, Phoenix, takes the crown in matter of importance because, well, they're siblings who grew up practically like twins, but their relationship deserves their own detailing.

Rowan has got to be the first. Not only they share the same adventurous nerdy spirit, but Rowan also is the one to stick around even when everything is dark and uncertain and Indigo's popularity plummets. Indigo is always excited to hear whatever Rowan has to say - most times about books or Bill Weasley - and she's rarely fazed by the weird things Rowan does.

Murphy McNully is a close second, having officially met in the middle of her second year, they're both still fresh in a matter of friendships which allows them to open up, both in desperate need of company and support. He's often a companion in the girl's library and common room study sessions and sits with them during meals.

Charlie Weasley has her heart and soul from the moment they first speak during year one, but it actually takes a while until they form any real bond, which begins after he finds out she has been seeking his brother's help to search for the cursed vaults.

Ben is a friend she cherishes deeply but often finds it hard to break through his protective shell which makes him feel distant even when he opens up to her. Unlike her friends, she grows more liking towards Ben after he has his change in personality, as he feels more open about himself.

Chiara is a friend she deeply appreciates for her courage in reaching out for her help in times of need and trusting her with her secret. In Marauder fashion, she likes keeping an eye on her on the nights of full moon - which is good to train her cat tree climbing. They often have afternoon tea together and she teaches Indigo useful healing spells.

Andre and Indigo didn't have a great start, as she thought of him as arrogant and inconsiderate, and he thought she was careless and selfish. But when she helps him with a transfiguration mishap during their 3rd year when he was trying to be creative - and the reason he now has a two-headed cat - they start opening up to each other and begin a friendship. He's a good friend to confide in about the mundane aspects of her life and Quidditch intrigues.

Orion means to her more than she can put into words. Not only he is her team captain, but also a dear friend whom she turns to in times of emotional instability cause she knows he'll be the one to successfully help her clear her mind. They enjoy each other's company even if they don't have anything interesting to say. They sit together during every Divination class for as long as the subject goes.

She has no "rivals" as she finds that sort of labeling quite petty, but would definitely punch Emily Tyler on the stomach and perhaps Face Paint kid for all his eavesdropping.

She has an easier time bonding with her fellow Gryffindors since they spend most of their time together in classes, lunch, and hanging around in the common room.

Dormmates: She and Rowan got placed in a room for three people, as the ones for five were already full, along with a girl called Tanya. But at the beginning of their 4th year, they find out she has bailed out to another dorm room claiming they 1. Snort and speak in their sleep on a regular basis, 2. Will eventually endanger her with their cursed vault shenanigans, 3. Will get her killed - which, spoilers, actually happens, oops. So they basically have the dorm for themselves.

Academics

Favorite Classes:

Potions

Flying

DADA

Magical Theory

Least Favorite:

Transfiguration

History of Magic

Arithmancy

Favorite Professor: Kettleburn. Despite CoMC not being on her top favorite subjects, she enjoys her time in his classes and reminds her of her grandfather on her father's side who's a highlander wizard.

Least Favorite: Binns. Just retire you old man!

Quidditch Position: Chaser. Despite enjoying her time as Gryffindor's beater, she notices the position takes a toll on her physical wellbeing, having to carry a heavy bat and being injured by bludgers more times than she can keep track of. So she returns to her chaser position after a year.

Favorite Team: Montrose Magpies. She never had an interest in Quidditch before she began playing but decided to pick a team to support. Of course, it had to be a Scottish team and settles for MM because of professor McGonagall who's also a supporter.

She's not indigo's face claim, but it's hard to find good red-haired characters out there.

I guess I'll leave her background and history for another post since it interweaves very tightly with her sibling. And since I'm still exploring her story.

Well this is just an intro to my beloved MC

#hphm #hphm mc #hogwats mystery #oc profile #gryffindor #indigo silverwood

27 notes · View notes

nxrthmizu · 4 years ago

Text

| me and you | Sugawara Koushi

»»——⍟——««

song | Night Changes - One Direction

pairing | Sugawara Koushi x Reader

words | 2.9k

author’s note | Hi yes I am late but,,, Oh wait I have no excuses. Anyway, please reblog and comment if you enjoyed reading! Not sure if I’m still being shadowbanned :/ Not proofread so let me know it there are any mistakes!

»»——⍟——««

cadowly’s songfic december mlist

»»——⍟——««

Goin' out tonight, changes into something red

His mouth dropped at the sight of you, a gentle smile on your lips as you walked into the room. You were dressed in a black cloak, a dark green scarf wrapped around your neck like a snake. The kids’ attention instantly gravitated towards you, a whole bunch of them swarming towards you, a walking clump of excited chatters and ‘Merry Christmas, L/N-sensei!’.

Her mother doesn't like that kind of dress

“Hello everyone,” You replied with a laugh, tugging off your cloak and your scarf as you walked into the classroom of the pre-school where both you and Sugawara Koushi worked as teachers at. “Merry Christmas!”

A blush crept up his cheeks when you undressed, proudly showing off a bright red sweater with what seemed to be Rudolph on it. The pre-school had organised a secret gift event, where everyone would buy a gift, wrap it, and leave it under the tree. Later on, everyone would get a chance to pick out one gift for themselves, and since the teachers were required to participate, Sugawara had picked out a sweater, wrapped it in a cute box, and left it under the tree in the teachers’ staffroom. He had never anticipated the fact that you would choose his gift, giving your reason for the choice as ‘It looks really nicely wrapped, whoever bought this must’ve put a lot of effort into it!’.

Everything she never had she's showin' off

“L/N-sensei, your sweater’s really cute!” One of your kids said with a beam.

“Thank you!” A soft smile graced your lips as you glanced down at the sweater with a fond expression. “It’s from my secret santa!”

The kids continued to chatter excitedly around you as you set down your cloak and your bag in Sugawara’s classroom, where both of your classes were having a joint Christmas party.

“Merry Christmas, Suga-san.” You greeted with a smile, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Your sweater’s really cute.”

He glanced down in surprise, remembering with sudden shock that the sweater he was wearing came as a set with the one that he had wrapped. His was dark green, and also had Rudolph on it- Except Rudolph was standing in a different pose, of course.

“Ah.” He coughed awkwardly. “Thank you. I like yours, too.” He knew without a doubt by the glint in your eyes, you were aware that the sweater you were wearing was from him.

“Thanks! I really need to thank the person who got me this sweater.” At this point you were just teasing him, and boy was it working. Red flushed across Koushi’s cheeks, and it wasn’t because it was snowing outside.

“Suga-sensei, you’re blushing!” One of the girls pointed out with a giggle. This caused a chain reaction throughout the classroom, the forty-or-so kids you had packed in Suga’s classroom rushing to the front, where he was sitting cross-legged on the carpet while wrapping some last-minute gifts.

“Suga-sensei’s blushing!” Came the chorus of the kids’ exclamations. The red on his cheeks only darkened as he tried to laugh it off, but unfortunately for him, the red around his cheek, neck, and ears did not recede.

You laughed softly. “Alright, alright. That’s enough. Who’s excited for the gift exchange?”

The kids raised their hands and jumped around enthusiastically, some bragging loudly that they got amazing gifts for their classmates. Sugawara breathed a sigh of relief, glad that you had redirected the kids attention.

“We still have a few students who aren’t here yet, so why don’t everyone leave their gifts under the tree first and we can play some small games while waiting for the rest of your friends, okay?” You suggested with a smile, the kids instantly rushing to grab their gifts from their bags to stash under the tree that both your classes had decorated together.

“Thanks.” He smiled thankfully at you, praying that his blush had lightened up.

Your eyes twinkled in amusement. “No problem.”

»»——⍟——««

“Suga-sensei!” One of the girls approached him, pushing past his arms to settle into his lap. He chuckled, patting her hair as he gave her a questioning look. “I have a question!”

“Well, go ahead.” He smiled.

“Are you and L/N-sensei dating?” The kid whispered, looking up at him with saucer-sized, curious eyes.

Sugawara coughed loudly, trying not to choke on his own embarrassment. “No! I mean... No. No we’re not.”

“But she’s so pretty!” The girl scrunched up her eyebrows, not understanding why her teacher wouldn’t want to date the pretty teacher from the neighbouring class. “And she’s really nice!”

“Well, yes, but...” He struggled with his words, trying to remember that you were across the room and that he couldn’t let the conversation get out of hand or he was done for.

Little did he know, across the room, seated with your own kids, you were being confronted with the same question. “L/N-sensei, are you dating Suga-sensei?” One of your boys, who was cuddled up against your side while he munched on a piece of cake asked you, the rest of the kids tuning in to listen in interest.

“No, but what made you think that?” A light blush painted your cheeks but you kept your cool, entertaining your kids with the conversation.

One of the kids who were seated in a semi circle around you piped up. “Because he’s really nice to you!”

“Because mommy said you two look nice together!”

“Because his sweater looks a little like yours!”

You smiled, your eyes flicking up to spot a flushed Sugawara across the classroom. “Well, we’re not dating. If we are I’ll let you guys know, okay?”

It wasn’t just the kids, though.

“How was the Christmas party?” One of Suga’s kid’s mother asked as she engulfed her child in a hug. The boy broke into a grin and begin ranting about the cake and the gift that he had picked out from under the tree. “That sounds great!”

“I met new friends from L/N-sensei’s class!” The boy continued to say excitedly.

“Ah, L/N-sensei?” The middle-aged woman glanced across the entrance of the pre-school, spotting you, also talking to one of your kids’ mother. “Wow, she’s really pretty!” (Suga had to stop himself from nodding vigorously in agreement.)

The boy agreed without holding back. “Yeah! Suga-sensei blushed when he talked to her!” The grey-haired teacher spluttered, not expecting his own student to betray him.

“Is that so?” The mother instantly piped up, wiggling her eyebrows at Suga, whose face flushed again. “Suga-san, I think the both of you would look great together! Is she single?”

“I-” He fumbled around with his words. “I think?”

The mother shot him a smirk, walking away with her excited child as Sugawara blushed, drowning further in his growing affection for you. There you were, across the entrance, waving goodbye to one of your kids. “See you after Christmas break!” You smiled so brightly he was sure you could outshine Hinata, the literal sunshine child.

The both of you sighed in relief as the last kid was picked up by his mother. At that rate, the both of you were ready to collapse from exhaustion- Dealing with kids during Christmas eve was one of the most draining things you had ever done, and the two of you were incredibly grateful that you had combined the class celebration- Because it meant only one classroom to clean up.

“I’m exhausted already, and there’s still the staff celebration tonight.” You complained with a tired whine as you picked up all the trash left behind.

He shot you a knowing smile, feeling his mental fatigue start to settle in. God, he loved kids, but they could be a handful at times.

“L/N!” One of your female coworkers burst into Suga’s classroom, startling the two of you. Her expression turned sheepish as she apologised quickly. “I’m really sorry but- I can’t send you to the staff party tonight!”

Your face dropped as you groaned. You couldn’t drive, and the party location was a reasonable distance from the nearest train station, and you didn’t feel like walking...

“My mom suddenly told me she wanted me home for Christmas eve, so...” She winced. “I’m really sorry. Maybe you could get another teacher to send you?”

“I could.”

The both of you turned to look at Suga, who had paused halfway through sweeping the floor. “I’m going to the party. I could drive you.”

“Perfect!” Your coworker clapped her hands a little too enthusiastically. Your eyes narrowed at her suspiciously as she very conveniently ignored your questioning gaze. “You can go with Suga-san, then. Sorry and thanks again!”

»»——⍟——««

Drivin' too fast, moon is breakin' through her hair

“Wow.” Sugawara couldn’t help the way his jaw unhinged at the sight of you, clad in a tight-fitting red dress that hugged your curves in a way that left little to his imagination. “I mean. Um. You look great.” He offered, trying to fix his composure, heat bursting in blossoms across his neck, cheeks, and ears.

“Thank you, you don’t look too bad yourself.” You replied gracefully, your heels clicking as you walked down the steps of your apartment.

Sugawara had cleaned up from his sweater-dressed pre-school teacher look into a well-groomed man with soft grey locks, a dark-green dress-shirt with a Christmas tree patterning and black jeans. “T- Thanks.” He stuttered, rushing over to hold the door open for you, quite like the gentleman he had a reputation of being.

She's headin' for somethin' that she won't forget

The ride started off a little tense until you started humming along to the song on the radio, enticing him into joining you. He could barely keep his eyes on the road- How could he, when he had an angel like you in his passenger seat, eyes blinking under the stars and your heavenly voice tickling his ears?

Havin' no regrets is all that she really wants

“Suga! Oh, hi L/N-san.” A male teacher greeted the two of you with wiggling eyebrows that instantly made the two of you look away from each other. “Well, get yourself some drinks, we’ve got quite the night ahead of us!”

We're only gettin' older, baby

“Come on, the two of you have been sitting here for the whole night! Get on the dance floor!”

The two of you were seated by the bar, nursing your respective drinks (Suga had a glass of carbonated water- He wasn’t allowed to get drunk and he’d be darned if he forgot his responsibility of driving you home) while sharing small-talk, primarily about your classes and what you do outside of work. Koushi enjoyed your presence; Conversation just seemed to flow when he was with you, and awkwardness a foreign concept that he had forgotten. The twinkle of your laugh was imprinted in his mind, your eyes curved into crescents and a giggle vibrating down your throat.

“I don’t... Know how to dance.” You admitted shyly.

Your coworker rolled her eyes. “Just get out there!”

“I’ll go with.” Koushi laughed, setting his drink down. His hand found yours, in the maze of coloured strobe lights and the next thing you knew you were laughing, smiling, giggling as he brought you the centre of the dance floor, like he wanted to show off to the world just how special you were.

You flushed in embarrassment, feeling multiple sets of eyes on you- Your coworkers’. “What do I do?” The whisper was shot to the grey-haired man, who was already moving to the music like he was born to dance.

“Just listen to the music and focus on the beat.” He laughed, taking both of your hands into his, jerking you onto the beat and directing your movements until you got a hang of it. “There you go!”

And I've been thinkin' about it lately

Everyone in the room must’ve been able to see how in love with you he was, Suga mused with a tiny groan. There were literal hearts in his eyes when he looked at you, your red dress dancing in the air alongside you, a slightly-drunk smile on your lips. The pounding music faded away from him, the only sound he heard being your angelic laugh. At that point he was sure your laugh could cure the world’s deadliest diseases.

Does it ever drive you crazy

“I’ve never had that much fun.” Breathless, you smiled widely at him, both of you (Well, mostly you) stumbling back to the bar.

His eyes softened at the sight of your tousled hair, your gleaming eyes, the thin sheen of sweat on your skin. You looked like you hadn’t went to a club to dance in ten years- Which, judging from how stiff you were when you were first dragged onto the floor- Was probably true.

Just how fast the night changes?

“Hey... Can we get out of here?” You asked after a while, giving him a mini-heart-attack when you turned to look at him. “It’s getting too loud for me.”

“Sure,” He replied easily. Heck, you could ask him to get on a plane to anywhere on the planet and he’d probably still say sure. Koushi knew he had fallen for you, and when he fell, he fell hard.

Everything that you've ever dreamed of

The two of you grabbed a couple of rental bikes a little away from the club, scanning the barcodes with your phones before pedalling away. Your red dress fluttered in the wind from under your coat, your hair loosened and a couple strands waving at him with a laugh while they flew behind you.

Disappearing when you wake up

He wished he could continue pedalling behind you forever; God, what he would give to have Christmas eve last forever. Your laugh played on loop inside his mind, the ring of your giggle warming him, insuring his body against the cold winter.

But there's nothing to be afraid of

By the time morning came, would you remember? Would you remember the park that the two of you stopped at because you wanted to stargaze? Would you remember the love-struck way he stared at you while your eyes were fixated on the dots of white up in the sky, just out of your reach? Would you remember the way he took a breath of courage and intertwined your fingers together just as the clock struck 12?

Even when the night changes

“Merry Christmas, Suga-san!” You smiled, looking at the time on your watch.

It will never change me and you

“Merry Christmas, L/N-san.” He replied, an identical smile on his lips. You leaned closer, your lips connected with his as sparks exploded as loudly as the fireworks up above in his heart.

“W- Wait!” Koushi pushed you away, cheeks flushed and painted a visible scarlet despite the dim lightning of the park. “You- You’re drunk. I’m not going to take advantage of you like this, you’ll regret this when you wake up.”

A pout crossed your lips, but you figured he had a point. Even you knew that you were slightly drunk- It was the boldness of your actions, the way stars seemed to litter the air around your silver-haired coworker, the shine in his eyes that were a little brighter than usual.

“I won’t.” You pursed your lips. “I probably won’t dare to do it again if I’m fully sober.”

»»——⍟——««

“Suga-san?”

He swore he almost had a heart attack when he woke up at 8am and his phone was ringing, your caller ID staring him in the face, urging him to pick up. “Yeah? Do you need anything, L/N-san?”

“No, uh, can I- Can I come over?”

If he didn’t have a heart attack at seeing your caller ID, he had a heart attack at your request. “Uh- Sure? Why?”

“I... I’m not too sure either. I’ll explain when I get there.”

Christmas morning was a wonderland of white falling from the sky, your window sill covered with an inch-thick of cold, powdered sugar. There was a faint throb in your head- You had drunk a little bit more after returning to the party with Sugawara. Fumbling around, reaching for your phone, you turned it on, blinking in surprise as you stared at the three words etched on your lockscreen wallpaper.

‘Kiss’. ‘Sugawara’. ‘Koushi’.

“What did I do last night?” You mumbled, sitting up. Flashes of a park, a sparkling night sky, and a silver-haired coworker flipped through your mind like a flipbook with a dozen pages missing. At last, you figured you might as well call the man in question- Surely he knew what you did last night.

»»——⍟——««

“I... Woke up to this on my lockscreen.” You explained, showing him your phone. Red burst across Koushi’s cheeks like cherry blossoms, and for a moment you wondered if spring had come early. “I figured there was no harm if I came over.”

“So... Are you going to do it?” He eyed you, a mixture of shy and curiosity.

In one swift movement, you jerked the front of his shirt, pulling him to you for a kiss. When you pulled back, Sugawara Koushi was a stuttering, blushing mess who had apparently forgot how to use his words.

“No harm in trying.” You shrugged with a tint of a smile across your lips. “So... Did you forget how to use words or...?”

“Dammit, you can’t just do that to me like this!”

»»——⍟——««

taglist. @mrs-kuroojinguji @procrastination-lady @drippinginhoneyandgold @shoyosun@aka-a-shii @shibayamasbae @churochuu @seijohlogy @dearsukuna

send an ask to either @owlywrites or @cadenceh2o to be a part of Cadowly’s Songfic December’s taglist!

hello sorry for how late it is but uhhh yeah

»»——⍟——««

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! fluff #sugawara koushi #sugawara koushi x reader #sugawara koushi fluff #sugawara x reader #sugawara #karasuno #karasuno x reader #cady writesss «#cadowly's songfic december

31 notes · View notes

thrillridesz · 4 years ago

Text

[ to start from the prologue - click here ]

n/a: unedited!

“I think I’ll pass. Thanks for offering though.” You gave him a tight lipped smile and the faint smile he had on his lips fell rapidly.

“Why not?” He blurted out before he quickly added, “I- I mean, you’re clearly better at literature than I am. I think you would do a way better job.” His cheeks were rosy and pink as he fiddled awkwardly with his fingers.

“I’m flattered but I have other things to get to. If you’ll excuse me, I have to go get some books.” You simply replied, walking past him without looking at his reaction. How weird, you thought. Was it just you or did he seem really keen on getting you to join in the tutoring session?

Shaking your head, you decided you were not going to brood on it. For the rest of the day, the two of you did not share another conversation, with just the occasional curt nod to one another in acknowledgement of each other’s presence in class. The day went by just like it did any other day, lessons followed by a lunch break and more lessons. After the last lesson ended for the day, you waved goodbye to your friends and proceeded down to the courtyard below to your trusty little bike that awaited you. As you trotted down the stairway, you caught a glimpse of a familiar shadow in an unoccupied classroom. His voice rang loud and clear and instantly, you recognised it as Younghoon’s. Trying to be as discreet as possible, you tiptoed over and peered into the classroom where he was carrying out his tutoring session.

He had his sweater sleeves rolled up as he ran a hand over his hair and for a moment, he actually looked almost… Regal. There was a certain suave air to him while he held the book in his hand and spoke to the people in the room and you could see no trace of the timidness you saw in him every time the two of you met. His voice rang out clearly, strong and steady as he read from the text and you couldn’t help but notice just how in he seemed to be completely in his element. How did you never see this side to him? You never paid much mind whenever your friends would fawn over him but at this moment, you saw what they saw in him.

Suddenly, he looked up and quickly, you hid behind the wall. Peeking back in, you saw the puzzled expression on his face before he shrugged it off and continued reading. You released the breath you didn’t realise you were holding onto and you chided yourself under your breath. “What are you even doing, sneaking around like that?”

As you mounted your bike, you gave a fleeting glance to the window above where you could still catch a glimpse of Younghoon’s shadow.

“Oh well,” you mumbled to yourself. Maybe he was more than just the timid scholar you had in mind. Riding along the streets, you watched the shops and people pass by you, feeling the wind against your frame. Your hair flowed freely in the wind and for what felt like the first time today, you took your first breath of the fresh, crisp air with a tinge of the sweet scent of sweet pea flowers from the nearby park. You were so caught up with revelling in the moment that you barely had time to react when someone came in the way of your bike.

Before you knew it, your backpack and books were sent flying in the air and you had fallen off your bike in a rather unceremonious way. Your papers were sprawled all over the ground and trapped between your bike and the hard, gravel floor was a boy who wore the same uniform as you did, no doubt someone from the same school.

With soft and a petite frame to match, the bike looked much bigger than you had thought it to be in comparison to him. His fine, golden blonde hair was also messy and ruffled up from the fall, with a stray leaf stuck in it and you could just tell how in pain he was without even looking at his face, judging from terrible the crash was and the way he had cried out. There was also a bouquet of flowers that flopped onto the ground, its petals strewn everywhere and the delicate flowers looking properly flattened as a result of the crash.

“Ow! What the- Ugh…” He groaned, holding onto his leg in agony.

You felt a sharp pain in your knee and as you reached out to touch it ever so slightly, you had to draw in a quick breath because of how it stung. There was crimson blood on your fingers but nothing too serious. If anything, the boy looked to be more in pain than you were. Panicked, you reached forward and pulled the bike off of him, hobbling and setting it to one side. Your heart was beating so quickly at this point that you wondered if it was going to beat right out of your heart any time soon. The guilt and shame in you was unsurmountable as you approached him. Yet as you approached, you found the apology you had ready stuck at the back of your throat and you barely managed to squeak out.

“Choi Chanhee?”

At the sound of your voice calling his name, he looked up quickly, eyes widening. “Y/n?”

“I… Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” You asked, concern etched in your expression as you helped him to his feet. Looping his arm over your shoulders and snaking your arm around his waist, you sat him down on a nearby bench just outside the florist’s. Judging by the looks of it, it had been a pretty harsh collision.

His pants had ripped at the left knee and the skin over his knee cap had split open to expose a bloody, gaping wound. They were also soiled with the dirt on the gravel floor and his ankle was swelling up rapidly and when he pulled the fabric up to expose it, the swelling was red and bulging. His back was also aching from the fall and with every move, he scrunched up his nose in pain as he clenched his jaw to keep from whimpering. Quickly, you dashed across the street to get some ointment and bandages for him.

There was nothing but guilt in your heart as you stood awkwardly in front of him later while he applied the medicine, unsure of what to say. You were too wary of potentially hurting him more so you held back, watching him apply the medicine to himself instead. After what seemed like ages, he finally looked up at you.

“Why are you just standing here? Take a seat.” He gestured vaguely to the spot next to him but you couldn’t move.

“Are you alright? I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to run into you. Is there anything else I can do for you?” You asked nervously and he smiled as if to soothe your nerves and ease you out of your guilt.

“It’s okay, really! Come on, we’re neighbours. What kind of neighbour would I be if I hold even this against you?”

You looked at, feeling a little uncomfortable at his words. To be fair, you never really knew how to react around Chanhee though the two of you have been neighbours ever since you were both toddlers. When you were little, things were so much easier and so much more carefree around him. The two of you would hang out regularly at each others’ homes and play together at the nearby park. Sometimes, you even slept over at his place for a sleepover and vice versa and you two would wander around the house with a flashlight in hand and a blanket draped over your heads, navigating in the dark as the adult lay asleep in their beds.

You distinctively remembered the time when the both of you were in kindergarten. Those were good times. Back then, the two of you would stick to each other all the time and though the other kids in the yard teased the both of you for it, neither of you cared. Knowing that you hated vegetables, Chanhee would help you eat them before any of the teachers noticed and since he got picked on by the bigger kids sometimes, you would step in to defend him. It was like having a partner in crime in class.

Yet as time went on and his parents enrolled him into a private middle school, the two of you gradually drifted apart due to lack of interaction and conflicting school schedules. He found new friends, as did you. Slowly but surely, you guys didn’t even talk anymore despite being neighbours. Why would you? There would be nothing to talk about. When high school finally rolled around, you remembered feeling surprised when you saw Chanhee in the hallways, having applied to the same high school instead of completing his education at his private school downtown.

Even though the two of you still saw each other occasionally around school or town, the two of you had yet to share an actual conversation so to actually be talking to him now. The tone he had also took you aback. When was he this nice?

To be fair, he was never mean or unpleasant to you all these years even since you guys stopped talking but you had heard stories. You were never once exposed to this so-called ‘prickly’ side of him that you have heard so much about. In school, despite his fairylike appearance, Chanhee was known to be the demanding, strict and uptight drama club president. Though under his leadership, the club had thrived and won many competitions in the district and once even across the country, it was also known that some have quit the club when they failed to meet his high standards in doing things. There was no denying that he was an excellent president and that the members respected him so but he did create quite a reputation for himself at Creker High.

“Right…” You said hesitantly.

“Yeah, really. It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“Okay, then.” You turned, pointing at the petals on the floor from the destroyed bouquet, “These were for…?”

Upon realising what you were referring to, his face grew red. “Um…”

“Hm?”

“I was going to ask someone out to prom…”

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry, can I repay you for it?” You asked, mortified.

“Ah, no! It’s okay, I can always get one another day.” He replied, his tone taking on a reassuring tone. “A-Are you on your way home?”

“Yeah, I was… Were you?”

“Yeah.”

You shuffled on your feet as you watched him dabbed continuously at his wound with a sanitised cotton ball and offered shyly, “Can I at least make up for it by giving you a ride home?”

The smile on his face was brighter than you had ever seen. “That I can accept.”

To have Chanhee seated behind you as you cycled home was a weird feeling. Never would you have imagined the day to end in such a note. As the two of you sped down the road, you could feel his presence just right behind you and at times when you had to brake or slow down for people to pass, you could smell the scent of his eucalyptus shampoo as he leaned in, holding on tightly to his seat. In some way or another, no matter how weird it felt, there was also a sense of familiarity to it. Maybe it was because of the history the two of you had, you thought as you slowed to a stop once you’ve reached the road outside your house.

“Thanks, y/n… For the ride.”

“Ah, please don’t mention it. It’s the least I could do for you with your leg like that and knowing I caused it, I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“So I’ll see you?” You asked, squirming at the awkwardness of it all and you could tell that Chanhee had noticed because his eyes looked to the ground as you did.

“Yeah, I um… I’ll see you.” He said softly, giving you one last smile before he limped back to his own place.

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but watch him go. Awkward as may be, he was after all an old friend of yours. Were you unconsciously blowing him off? He was after all someone you used to be close to but time really has eroded the relationship the both of you shared that you can’t help but feel tensed around him.

Letting out a sigh, you decided to forget about it. It was only one encounter and most likely your last with him. Funny how it only happened through a crash. It was brief and awkward but still good while it lasted. Smiling to yourself, you recalled the beam he had on his face when you talked to him earlier. It was the kind of smile that warmed you inside and even through all these years, it was the exact same one you remembered he had even as a kindergartener.

Fumbling through your pockets, you felt your heart sink quickly as you stared at the door in front of you.

Oh, no.

You have forgotten your keys. You must have forgotten them when you were in a rush to leave for school this morning! Since your grandmother was out with a friend, you knew there was no hope of someone opening it from the inside. The windows were locked as well and no matter how hard you tried, there was simply no way of prying it open. Looking at the sky above, it seemed as if yet another storm was looming nearby.

Damn this town and its strangely and ridiculously frequent storms this time of the year.

This cannot be happening. You needed to go home to do homework and you would need your laptop for it. Without internet connection, it would not be possible to even log in and in this rain? Your laptop would probably be short circuited before you even had time to turn it on.

Turning back, you noticed Chanhee still making his way to his own home and instantly, you are faced with a decision. You could either ask Chanhee to allow you to take shelter at his home or you could cycle down to the cafe in town and do your homework there. You bit your lip, pondering your options. If you ask to stay at Chanhee’s for shelter, you would have to prepare yourself for the awkward afternoon that would undoubtedly follow but you wouldn’t have to ride all the way down to the cafe for an additional ten minutes which by then, the rain would have already started. On the other hand you go to the cafe, you’ll likely have to purchase one of their grossly expensive drinks just to stay there and there was no guarantee that once you get there that you will even find a seat. What if you have to find someplace else once you get there?

Do you want to ask Chanhee if you can take shelter at his place for the time being or cycle to a cafe down the street to avoid the rain?

➳ Ask Chanhee

➳ Go to the cafe

#i'm gonna just upload the remaining chapters that I have already written prior to my leave from tumblr but now that im back i might continue #deobiwritersnet #tbznetwork #tbz #tbz imagines #the boyz imagines #tbz scenarios #choose your own adventure #the boyz scenarios #the boyz #the boyz oneshots #tbz oneshots #tbz fics #the boyz fics #kpop cyoa #kpop choose your own adventure #the boyz choose your own adventure

10 notes · View notes

anemonenemerosa · 4 years ago

Text

The Spare - Chapter 3

Here we are: Chapter 3

Sweater Weather spin-off, inspired by the most wonderful @lumosinlove. Harry Potter characters belong to JK Rowling, the Sweater Weather AU with OCs belong to lumosinlove, my OCs from this fic belong to me.

Warnings:

Past and present abuse, homophobia, slurs, mentions of forced outing, self-harm, a bit of blood, swearing, drinking, underage drinking (USA),

Please be careful

The Spare - Chapter 3

Early mornings have always been the favourite part of Regulus' day.

Much unlike his brother, he was an exceptionally early riser, usually waking up around five in the morning. No one else was awake at this time and he did not have to bother with pretence, with permanently schooling his expression, calculating every movement, every word.

After he got a grip to his initial exhaustion, he slowly came by waking up as usual and immensely enjoyed his solitary peace. As the Malfoys never emerged before seven, Regulus put his two hours of unmonitored time to use by hiding out in the ginormous library and burying himself in books one wouldn't suspect in this house. Copies of umpteen different fantasy and science-fiction novels were refurnished with dull grey covers, titles written in tiny letters across the spines and carefully placed in unsuspecting corners.

Either I profoundly misjudged my dear cousins’ taste, or the interior designer allowed himself a little bit of artistic licence while filling the shelves, Regulus thought happily after propping Hitchhikers Guide the Galaxy on top of The Lord of the Rings and moving on to the collected works of Terry Pratchett’s Disc World.

In stories, he could immerse himself, putting his sense of humour and feelings into practice a bit before they would shrivel up and die of neglect.

______________________________________________________________

Regulus' reality, unlike books and stories, required rapt attention and close observation if he was to figure out the unspoken rules of the dynamics within the Snakes. And rules, they had. He repeated them to himself quite often to prevent any grave missteps.

First thing to internalise was that Severus Snape, Captain of the team, was not the man in charge. This position was firmly occupied by the main goalie, Tom Riddle. While being genuinely interested why Riddle wasn't official Captain of the Snakes, Regulus sensed that the next rule was to never question it, or anything else, for that matter.

Another commandment was to always, under any circumstances, stay true to the determined and grim attitude expected from Snakes: During interviews, at practice, in the locker room, even in public places ...also while folding your socks, flossing your teeth, doing the laundry and taking the trash out... Regulus droned on mentally, allowing himself a little internal eyeroll.

As much as the players boasted their rough manliness, gossip was omnipresent in the locker room, everyone eager to collect various secrets and rumours. Apparently, their main leisure activity was to fuel the plethora of squabbles between and within the players' families and associates.

The next statue (order of mention does not necessarily correspond with importance, he reminded himself) was to stay within your rank. The loyal core around Riddle played first line in nearly every game, consisting of Severus as centre, his wingers Lucius and Rodolphus and Carrow and Macnair in defence. While everyone seemed dubiously loyal towards Riddle (ne demandez pas), the first line also had some kind of group-solidarity. It became custom to refer to the first line as Death Eaters due to their hard and unforgiving operations, praised by Regulus' father as the only true way of playing hockey.

The second line consisted of tolerated, but less engaged players, neglecting solidarity in favour of ascending the food chain. With Nott as centre, Dolohov and Mulciber at his sides and Crabbe and Goyle in defence, they were considerably weaker than the first line. The second goalie, Yaxley, had basically no time on ice. Riddle dominated every game.

The third line was pretty much cannon fodder. These players were only allowed on ice to run out the clock, having a strong defence and weak but ruthless centre. Regulus often wavered between exasperation, uneasiness and ridicule while observing such absurd antics but he'd be damned, if he wouldn't put these insights into use.

______________________________________________________________

Right after the call confirming his draft Regulus was sat down by his parents and instructed meticulously.

“Without question, Regulus will need to work hard but that’s not enough. There are plenty of good players in the NHL and he needs a unique selling point.” Orion muttered determined, looking at his wife.

“Just let him stick with the husbands of dear Bellatrix and Narcissa”, his mother eyed both of them over the brim of her fourth or fifth glass of red wine, “they already got into Riddles circle and I will ensure they get him-“

“You do no such thing, Walburga. I will not risk rumours of a Black descending to nepotism. Regulus may benefit from their company in public appearances but he needs to prove his worth on the ice.”

For the first time, Orion’s eyes left Walburga’s face turning to his son with a contemplative look, dark eyes boring into grey ones. It's indeed fascinating how they always speak about me and never bother to speak with me, Regulus found himself thinking.

He was banking on the belief that succeeding Orion’s hockey career would finally deem him deserving to be looked at by his father, not looked down on.

Rookies were expected to keep their heads down and stay out of it until they demonstrated their use. Regulus however was not only a talented rookie, he was a Black and Severus prospect to massively piss of Sirius. So, instead of staying put he quickly rose, much to the disdain of the uninspired pranksters of the third line and the delight of his parents.

My unique selling point is being son of Orion Black and brother of Sirius Black, Regulus concluded with a pinch of bitterness but he would be daft to mope on the opportunities he was given instead of seizing them. His status allowed him to associate with the Death Eaters, benefitting from their special treatment and favouritism from Karkaroff. It was the privileged practice and disproportionally high time on ice for a rookie that fuelled his career. He would get stronger, gain experience, become a recognised force much quicker than a rookie usually could and if his family’s reputation got him on the way, so be it.

Thats it for this week =)

Stay save and channel your inner Hufflepuf

#the spare #sweater weather #lumosinlove #lumosinlove ocs #Regulus has good taste in literature #sirius black #snakes #death eaters

49 notes · View notes

stevesnailbat · 5 years ago

Text

listen before i go, i love you, goodbye. | steve harrington

warnings: mainly just angst, (implied) weed smoking

summary: Unrequited love sucks, for everyone involved.

word count: 3.9K

a/n: This fic isn’t really based off of the three Billie Eilish songs in the title. I saw on Genius that she said the titles of the last three songs on WWAFAWDWG? were supposed to be a sentence and it inspired me to write something about it. I also wrote a part 2. Enjoy!

Silence.

The only thing to be heard in Steve’s car was the soft hum of whatever mixtape he had going, and pure silence between him and his girlfriend. Usually, silence was okay. They would typically enjoy each other’s company without saying a word, but it was different now. Sometimes Y/N’s excited voice would fill the car as she told stories about her day while Steve would glance over at her with genuine interest in his eyes, but it was different now. There was no interest left in Steve’s gaze when he would look at Y/N, only a glimmer of what used to be love. Y/N’s voice was rarely ever heard anymore, and there was no excitement left in it when it was. They were broken.

Tonight was no different than any other Saturday night to Steve and Y/N. They were going to some party near Loch Nora but neither of them actually wanted to go. Still, they would go, they would dance together, they would hold each other, they would act like everything was okay, they would drink to forget that they didn’t want to be with each other. Steve didn’t really know why he still pretended to be in love when he wasn’t, but he never questioned it either.

He didn’t know when he fell out of love, but it hit him like a ton of bricks when he realized it. He could feel himself getting annoyed by the things she would say to him and he could feel himself losing the desire to kiss her and hold her like he always would. He told himself that he was just going through a rough patch and that he would get over it soon, but soon never came. Things got worse when he knew that she was catching on. She became more distant, less affectionate, less happy. He didn’t want to string her along, but he didn’t want to hurt the girl he once loved so dearly.

Steve parks his car in front of Carol’s house and stuffs his keys into his pocket as he looks over to Y/N, who’s staring out the window at the already drunk teens on the front lawn. She hated being drunk until Steve stopped loving her, then she began looking forward to the weekend so she could forget the pain she was in. He watched her eagerly step out of the car, waiting by her door for him to follow. As he got out, he gave her a knowing look when he saw to all-too-familiar fake smile growing on her face.

The couple is greeted by many of their so-called friends as they walk through the doors, Carol shoving drinks into their hands immediately. Y/N starts to drink as soon as she gets her hands on something, earning a glare in her direction from Steve. She ignored his looks and held onto his hand tight as she made her way through the crowd, searching for her best friend. Nancy’s face twists into an equally fake smile when she sees Y/N and Steve together, trying to hide her disapproval of what’s going on between the couple.

“Can I talk to you for a second, Y/N?” Nancy asks her, grabbing her wrist to pull her away from Steve. She didn’t really get a chance to tell Steve, but she knew he didn’t really care. The girls rushed off to a bedroom in the back of the house while Steve was left alone with Jonathan in the crowded living room.

Nancy closes the bedroom door behind her and turns to face Y/N. She was going to question her about why she was doing what she was still, but those plans changed. Before either of them can say anything, the sound of Y/N’s choked sob fills the air. She can’t bring herself to look at Nancy, so she sits on the bed behind her while burying her head in her hands. Nancy couldn’t look at her either, so she sits next to her and stares at the wall as she rubs Y/N’s back soothingly.

In any case, it would hurt to see your best friend crying. But for Nancy? It was even worse. She knew the situation all too well because she did the same thing to Steve. She strung him along and shattered his heart when he was still in love with her. Now the tables were turned and it hurt Nancy to see it; she thinks about how the hurt she put Steve through could have caused this. Y/N knew about their breakup last year, but didn’t believe that it would affect the way Steve saw her, his own girlfriend.

“Why the fuck am I doing this to myself, Nance?” she chokes out, throwing her arms up defeatedly.

“Because you love him, Y/N. You think you can change his mind, but deep down, you know you can’t.” Nancy says in a low voice, pulling her into a hug. “And you and Steve both care too much about your pride and reputations to break up.”

Y/N laughs softly as she blinks out some tears, slightly smudging mascara onto Nancy’s gray sweater. Nancy knew her and the situation all too well. It felt nice to be around someone who understood what was happening and was there to comfort, instead of just ignore. She pulls away after a few moments and tries to gather herself, wiping away her tears while taking a deep breath.

“We should probably get out of here before someone tries to start saying we’re cheating on our boyfriends with each other or something.” she jokes, trying to pull herself back to her fake-happy party-self.

An hour later Y/N finds herself clinging onto her so-called boyfriend relentlessly and clinging onto the moments of drunken affection that she deemed as damn near sacred. Usually the two of them would match each other with their drinks, not letting the other get too trashed. But Y/N snuck shots when Steve wasn’t looking, trying to bring herself back to the person she loved being. Steve caught on to what she was doing after her third extra shot, when it was too late. He had seen the hurt disappear from her eyes and replace with all the love and happiness she had once had with him. He could tell that she so desperately wanted to be happy again, and that she wanted to be happy with him.

“Stevie, you need to catch up! You’re not drinking enough.” she slurs as she shoves a drink into his face.

“I think I’ve had plenty to drink and that you have too.” Steve replies, his arm snaking around her waist hesitantly, mainly trying to stop her from falling or spilling her drink.

Her smile turns into a frown for a moment, but quickly disappears when she unexpectedly reaches up to his cheek, pulling him down into a kiss. The kiss was gentle yet filled with passion, something neither of them had felt in months. “I guess you’re right. You’ve had plenty to drink. Sober Stevie won’t let me kiss him like that anymore.” she whispered to him, her voice cracking as she spoke.

Her words seemed to be filled with remorse and sadness, Steve knew that he was the cause. For the first time since he had fallen out of love, he felt the same hurt that she did. He dropped his hand from her waist in shock and within a flash, she was gone. She waltzed over to Nancy with her fake smile, chugging away at her drink once more. He watched the broken girl fade away, if only for a moment, as she danced the night away with people that actually made her happy. Good, bad, and in-between memories that had been engrained in her memory forever were gone, if only for a moment, as she sang her heart out with her best friend. The pain she felt had gone away, if only for a moment, as Steve finally understood what she had been going through.

Hours passed and the party died down soon enough, around 2 am. Steve stopped drinking at midnight, but Y/N never stopped. Y/N told Steve she ‘wanted to party hard’ when he asked her to go the first time, the second time, and the third time. He finally convinced her that it was time to go when Nancy and Jonathan left, pulling the pouting girl to the car. She plopped down in the passenger seat and giggled drunkly at the noise Steve’s leather seat made when she did so. Without a word, Steve started the car and drove towards his house. He occasionally glanced over to her, seeing her face begin to twist into a sickly expression.

“If you’re gonna be sick, please do it in that McDonald’s bag on the floor or let me know so I can stop.” Steve laughs, resting his hand on her thigh in a comforting way, out of habit.

She says nothing in return, staring out the window intently. She was focusing on something, but Steve couldn’t put a finger on what it was. The short trip down the road takes all but five minutes and soon enough, he’s helping her into his house from the garage. She nearly falls at least three times on the stairs, giggling as she clung onto Steve. He has to undress and dress her again when they get to his room, which shows to be quite a challenge with a resistant, drunk girl. Steve rummages through a dresser drawer until he finds something, turning to hand her a shirt. When he does so, he sees her blotchy, red cheeks and tear-brimmed eyes.

“Hey, hey. What’s wrong?” he asks, although he’s sure he knows the answer. His hand brushes her hair behind her ear as his thumb wipes away a rogue tear.

“Why don’t you love me anymore?” she chokes out, her voice almost inaudible. Steve freezes in his tracks when she speak, not expecting that to be her answer.

Obviously it was going to come up at some point. But he didn’t want to tell his girlfriend why he didn’t love her anymore while she was plastered. So, he decided to play it off.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, baby. I think you’re too drunk for your own good right now. Let’s go to bed, yeah?”

“No, Steve. I wanna know now! Why don’t you love me the way I love you?” she says, her voice growing louder as she continues to slur her words together.

“I’m not getting into this with you right now, Y/N. You’re plastered and I love you. You’re crazy.” Steve scoffs, attempting to pull her onto his bed.

At this point, she can’t tell if she’s too drunk, too tired, or too hurt to argue, but she says nothing in return. She changes into the shirt he handed her and gets into the bed, laying down where she usually does, the bed feeling like a second home to her. The bed she thought was a second home was where they had their first kiss, their first time, where they listened to every mixtape she would make him, where she realized she was in love with him, and now where they would spend their last night together. Steve wraps his arm around her waist as they lay in bed, because he knew it was going to be the last time he would. Y/N became engulfed in his arms, pressing a small drunken kiss against his arm, because she knew it was going to be the last time she would.

Y/N sleeps the whole night through, the alcohol taking over when she laid down. Steve, on the other hand, spent the night staring at the ceiling while contemplating his next move. He knew she wouldn’t remember everything but that some things would stick out. Over and over again he replayed what he was going to say to her when she woke up. It wasn’t until after the sun rose that Steve fell asleep, heart still racing from the thought of the morning.

When Steve woke up, he found the spot next to him in the bed to be empty, his shirt folded on top of his dresser, and her clothes that were once piled in the corner of his room to be gone. His first instinct was to panic, he didn’t get to talk to her and God only knew what she even remembered from the night before. The panic growing in the pit of his stomach ceased when he heard the bathroom door open. She came out of the bathroom, quietly chuckling at his panicked expression. She looked as perfect as usual; she had removed the remnants of last night’s makeup from her face, smoothed out the knots in her hair, and put her clothes from the night before back on. Perfect, like everything else about her. How could he stop loving her? Maybe he never did. Maybe he just stopped loving who he thought she was and started loving the real her, who hadn’t been around for months.

Her expression was calm, she seemed more at ease. She picks up her backpack from the floor and slings it over her shoulders, standing near the bedroom door. Steve opens his mouth to speak but she holds up a finger, signaling for him to stay quiet for a moment. “Listen, before I go.” Y/N started, chewing on her lip momentarily. “I love you, Steve. But you don’t love me. And I can’t handle it anymore. I don’t need an explanation, I’m hard to love. I understand. So I just wanted to say that.” she breathes out, steadying herself against his dresser as she speaks so she doesn’t break down. “Goodbye.”

And with that she was gone. Gone from his house, gone from his life. Or so he thought.

The goodbye was enough closure for Y/N, it was all she needed. She seemed happier now, like a weight was lifted off her shoulders. The sparkle was back in her eye, the excitement was back in her voice. The bags underneath her eyes had disappeared, she kept herself looking put together every day, her life began to flourish. She had grown and changed in such a short amount of time and everybody saw it, she was untouchable. Everyone knew that she was independent and didn’t need anybody but herself to make her happy.

The goodbye was obviously not enough closure for Steve, though. Although she had seemingly left him behind, he still felt Y/N everywhere he went. She was in his bed at night, holding his hand as he walked down the hall, kissing his cheek when he would get out of his car in the morning; it felt so real, but in reality, he was left in the cold. She was still around him more than he expected. They would sit at opposite ends of a long table at lunch with their mutual friends, Steve making periodical glances her way. She would notice, but never thought into it.

He loved seeing her happy again and never wanted that to change for her. Soon after she left that day, he realized that she was all he could have ever wanted. And he threw it away because of his twisted perceptions of a perfect girl. He saw her as someone who got in his way, blocked him from being who he really wanted to be. In reality, she was only helping him to be the best person he could be. But he pushed her away, breaking her heart more and more every day. Steve knew that if he tried to come back into her life, she wouldn’t be the same. There was no coming back from what he did to her.

Every once in a while Y/N would have the itching desire to go back to him. She missed their late nights together doing nothing but getting high and laughing their asses off, their early morning impromptu road trips, their every memory made. Every time it happened, she would try to push the thoughts out of her mind, but they would still stick to the back of her brain only to be brought up again weeks later. The only thing getting her through was the thought of how he broke her, shattered her heart into a million pieces. There was no coming back from what he did to her.

She thought she had finally fallen out of love with him when graduation neared. With that in mind, she decided to go out of state for school, all the way to New York City. Steve heard the news of her moving from Jonathan and his heart broke. He remembered that she always had told him that she ‘wanted to get the fuck out of this hellhole’, but he always thought he’d be doing it with her. Instead, he was staying in the dead end town with nothing but heartbreak and a minimum wage job.

Graduation came and went without either of them speaking to the other. Both wanted the other but were too scared to say it. Y/N planned on moving halfway through the summer. She started packing in June and packed for days on end. One of those days, she found a box in the back of her closet and an all-too-familiar smell of cologne hit her nose when she pulled it out. Inside were sweatshirts, old t-shirts, polaroids of a once happy couple, notes passed in class, a gold bracelet, a cheesy teddy bear from Valentine’s Day, even a pair of boxers; all from Steve, all from what they once were.

Packing abruptly stopped for the day when she found those, her heart aching when she saw the pictures of the happiest days of her life in the box. She thought she was over him, but this brought her right back to square one. She cried for hours, about not wanting to move anymore, about wanting to stay in Hawkins, about wanting to stay with him.

It was a Saturday in June when Steve saw her for the first time since graduation. She looked as beautiful as ever when she came into Scoops Ahoy, but something was off. He had only seen her cry a few times, but he recognized the slightly blotchy, red cheeks and bloodshot eyes from a mile away. All she wanted to do was get some ice cream for comfort, but she was met with Steve. She froze for a moment when she saw him at the counter, not knowing that he worked there. She pulled herself together before she got to the counter, trying to act like she hadn’t been thinking about him the whole week.

“Ahoy! What can get for you today?” Steve said in his best customer service voice, even though he already knew what she wanted; ice cream runs were something they did together too many times.

“Just a small chocolate cone please.” she says, a weak smile growing on her lips in response to his cheesy voice and uniform. Her smile that she gave him was genuine, but she was dying on the inside. He could tell that she was regressing back to the person she was before their relationship ended. The sparkle in her eyes was a mere glimmer now, her voice didn’t have much excitement left. She hands him two dollars and tells him to keep whatever the change is, her voice tired and weak.

“When do you leave?” he blurts out as he scoops her ice cream, regretting it almost immediately, but he was curious.

“My flight leaves early Tuesday morning.” she says in return as she chews on her lip, a bad habit of hers.

Steve nods quietly, wishing he could find the words to say, but says nothing at first. He loads up her cone like he knew she would want, his mind brought back to times that she would complain about not having enough ice cream when they would go out.

“One small chocolate cone for ya. But good luck, Y/N. I’m sure you’ll do great things out there.” Steve says with a somber smile.

”Thank you, it means a lot, Steve.” she said before making her way out of the ice cream shop.

That night was no different than any other one in the last week. She couldn’t stop thinking about him and it wasn’t going to stop. Tears flowed freely for hours and she even called Nancy, telling her how she felt about everything.

“So you’re telling me that you’re still in love with the same guy who broke your heart by stringing you along for months?” Nancy’s voice came through the phone as Y/N sniffled lightly. “And you’re also saying that you’re just now realizing this? Three days before you go halfway across the country? You’re crazy, Y/N.”

“I know, I just can’t help it. He was my everything, Nance.” she choked out. It felt weird telling this to the girl who broke Steve’s heart, but she knew Nancy was sympathetic.

“If you really think you’re going to get something out of talking to him, then do it. You’ve both had time to think about everything, so do what you think will be right, Y/N.”

“Thanks Nance, I love you. But I’m gonna go finish packing for the night and go to bed.” Y/N lies, Nancy says goodbye in return. “Bye.”

When she hangs up the phone, Y/N rushes to her closet, rummaging around in a bag that was shoved in the back. She remembered a small bag of weed that she had in an old backpack and that she needed to use it up before leaving. If she was going to talk to Steve, she might as well have a conversation starter. She changed from her pajamas into some running shorts and a sweatshirt, shoving the small baggie into her sweatshirt pocket as she walked down the stairs. Sneaking past her dad sleeping on the couch, she took her keys off the counter and made her way outside to her car.

She made it to Steve’s house in record time, feeling like she had tunnel vision. She knew that his parents wouldn’t be home, they usually weren’t on the weekends. Her breathing hitched when she made it to his door, knocking on it hesitantly. Not even a minute later, she heard Steve unlocking the door and her heart feels like it’s going to beat out of her chest. Steve opens the door, looking groggy; his hair was tousled around and his clothes in a disarray against his body. When he sees who it is, his eyes widen slightly.

“Hey, Steve.”

“Hi, Y/N?” Steve replies, his voice groggy from the sleep that she interrupted

She smiles nervously up at him when she sees his confused expression. Digging in her pocket, she pulls out the baggie that was very familiar to Steve. “One last time before I go?” she questions, swinging the bag slightly as she tries to hold back the bittersweet, stinging tears in her eyes.

“Uh — Yeah! Yeah, sure. One last time.” Steve stammers out with a reassuring smile playing on his lips as he lets her into the house.

One last good memory. One more night with the girl he would love forever. One more time making memories that would last a lifetime. For one last time.

641 notes · View notes

avelera · 6 years ago

Note

Chubby Newt being aware of how cold Hermann gets in the Shatterdome so he's always "accidentally" getting all up in Hermann's space to warm him up some.

This doesn’t include as much pudge mention as I would have liked but that was an unfortunate casualty of Newt’s POV, since it’s hardly something he’d notice on a normal day. It’s still fluffy as all get-out though, I hope you enjoy!

–

On the Risks of Sharing a Parka

Also available on AO3

Words:1,276

Ship: Newt/Hermann

Time and Place: Hong Kong, 2023 - Shatterdome Era

–

The weird thing about the Kaiju attacks, Newt mused, was that at some point they got… kinda boring. There was still that bone-deep horror of eldritch abominations duking it out against skyscraper-sized robots which were humanity’s only defense against utter annihilation, blahblahblah, but around hour four of standing on the rooftop of the Hong Kong Shatterdome in the tenth year of “the Kaiju War”, it became sort of like commercial air travel. Sure, you’re flying through the sky, thousands of feet above the Earth, in a tin can that defied early man’s understanding of flight and would have made Leonardo Da Vinci weep, but at some point you stop looking out the window and tune in to the in-flight movie.

Honestly, he could only imagine how disappointed fifteen-year-old-Newt would be with his thirty-three year old self for checking his watch when there were monsters fighting on the horizon.

It didn’t help that it was winter in Hong Kong and spitting cold rain down the back of his leather jacket even with the circus tent sized umbrella clutched in his hand. His breath misted in front of him and he had to take off his glasses every few minutes to de-fog them from his own breath. Most of the other personnel had left the rooftop already, trudging back to their workstations to wait for an alert that it was time to dive into action once the Kaiju went down (or worse, the Jaeger). This was the slog part of the whole song-and-dance, where the two behemoths just went at it, rock-‘em-sock-‘em style until someone fell down and yeah, it could take ages, but this was kind of the front lines of Newt’s field, so it behooved him to watch it live instead of on replay later. Especially since there was, y’know, a Kaiju attacking his back yard.

There was no reason Hermann had to be here though.

Newt squinted over at the guy through the fine mist of droplets on his glasses. “Dude, you’re shaking like a leaf. Do you wanna maybe go inside and get a hot Earl Grey or something? I can page you if anything happens.”

“I’m p-perfectly f-fine, N-Newton,” Hermann retorted and proceeded to shiver so hard he dislodged the raindrops from his umbrella which, conveniently, splattered onto Newt’s jacket.

Newt raised an unimpressed eyebrow and turned back to the fight. “Suit yourself.”

Crimson Typhoon feinted and spun, slicing its twirling blades across the face of the Kaiju, which barely flinched. Interesting, Newt thought and made a mental note to check the footage again later. Hardened carapace?

The sound of chattering teeth crescendoed beside him, loud enough to be heard over the pattering rain (or was it sleet at this point?). Newt glanced back at Hermann.

Hermann had pulled the drawstring of his hood so only his red nose poked out from a ruff of sodden fur and his fingers were white on the head of his cane. Newt never thought of himself as a nurturing kind of guy, but it was enough to tug at his heartstrings to see Hermann so miserable. He was perfectly warm by contrast, honestly pretty comfortable if not for the wet. His body ran hot and sure, that was definitely thanks to the extra padding, so his leather jacket was more than enough. Poor Herms on the other hand was skin and bones. He’d seen the guy tug on a cardigan on a humid Hong Kong summer day.

“Here, let me in,” Newt said and ducked under Hermann’s umbrella. He closed his own, tossing it on the concrete so he could begin pawing at Hermann’s parka. The damn thing was zipped and buttoned, of course, and Hermann gave a muffled squawk of protest.

“W-What are you d-doing?” Hermann hissed, though maybe the hiss wasn’t on purpose and more because his teeth were chattering so hard he could barely squeak the words out.

“Warming up,” Newt lied. He got the parka open and almost laughed at the sight of the bulky sweater or three Hermann had on under it. How the heck was this guy not boiling? Newt shed his own leather jacket since it was damp anyway and tossed it onto the railing. The damn thing was indestructible anyway, it would take a Kaiju to mess it up. Then he ducked inside of Hermann’s parka then turned around and zipped them both inside.

He hadn’t missed much of the fight, and honestly it was a little distracting how sweltering it was in there with two people, but he could handle it. He was about to settle back into watching when Hermann recovered himself and sputtered in his ear, “W-We look r-ridiculous. G-Get out of my coat t-this instant, G-Geiszler!”

Newt gave Hermann a frank look over his shoulder. “Not to step on your ego there, buddy, but I don’t think we’re the main attraction right now.”

Hermann grumbled at that, but subsided as the Kaiju in the distance made Newt’s point, stumbling and narrowly missing one of the harbor-side skyscrapers to the combined gasps of all the personnel around them. It was getting closer to the city. If Crimson Typhoon didn’t take it down before it made landfall, this fight was going to get even more ugly.

“I can handle the umbrella if you want to pull your arms in and hold onto me instead,” Newt said under his breath while everyone else was distracted. Hermann startled.

“W-Why would I w-want to do t-that?” Hermann squeaked. Dude, was the guy panicking, or something?

“Simple thermodynamics, you’ll… I mean, we’ll both be warmer if everything is in the same pocket, y’know, like mittens instead of gloves?” Newt said. He snaked his hand up to the collar of the parka and Hermann was strangely quiet, making no further protest and instead handed the umbrella over and let his cane fall beside them before pulled his arms inside.

His hands immediately found their way around Newt’s pudge, the touch tentative at first as if he expected Newt to bite or something.

“Dude, just grab on,” Newt muttered, quiet enough so no one else around them could, though they were down to barely a half-dozen J-techs. “Your fingers are like icicles, I can feel it through my shirt. If you put them under my armpits they’ll warm up faster.

“Y-Your armpits?” Hermann stuttered in outrage.

Newt rolled his eyes. “I showered this morning, you’ll be fine.”

There was some more grumbling, probably for show though who the fuck knew who Hermann was trying to impress. But his hands found Newt’s armpits, burrowing into the soft flesh of his chest and Newt had to bite his lip to keep from squirming ‘cause god forbid he gave away how ticklish he was, he’d never live it down. Gradually, Hermann’s shivering subsided as the inside of the parka took on tropical temperatures.

“See, you should listen to my ideas more often,” Newt said, because he had a reputation to maintain, after all. Hermann gave a sleepy mumble. His chin fell to Newt’s shoulder. “Hey, wait, don’t conk out on me.”

Hermann grumbled something indistinct and never, ever, in a million years would Newt admit how his heart flipped over in his chest at the puff of Hermann’s breath warm against his ears, or the feeling of Hermann’s arms wrapped around him.

They fit together like they were built for it, Hermann’s thin, concave chest against Newt’s admittedly much softer body. It honestly felt kind of perfect, enough that Newt didn’t say anything when he heard a light snore and felt Hermann’s weight slump against him. If Hermann was tired enough to doze standing up, he wasn’t the kind of asshole who would stop him.

Newt turned his attention back to the horizon and watched the battle rage on.

#newmann #pacific rim #newton geiszler #hermann gottlieb #so much fluff you guys even if it's pre relationship #Anonymous #my writing #chubby newt

96 notes · View notes

trade-baby-blues · 6 years ago

Text

In the Eggs Tonight

Pairing: Scotty x Reader

Word Count: 1938

Warnings: swearing, brief physical violence

A/N: Based on this prompt: “Character A doesn’t feel the Christmas spirit but Character B, who lives above them, keeps playing Christmas carols really loud” requested by @littlecrazyfangirl-98. Hopefully you like it!! I’m definitely not used to writing Scotty lol. The story is based on what supposedly used to be a Scottish tradition according to some less than reputable sources, so idk if it actually is, but! We did have a tradition close to this but using heated lead instead, so maybe it’s a real thing.

The first time you met Montgomery Scott, you could’ve strangled him. You could hear him hammering something metal through the thin walls of the apartment. Even your “soundproof” headphones couldn’t get the noise out of your skull. A swing every second as the clock ticked forward from 2:01 a.m. to 2:02, 2:03, 2:04

“The love of God,” you hissed and threw the covers off yourself. The way your blood was boiling, you didn’t even notice how cold the floor felt against your bare feet as you stomped out the door.

He only answered after the fifth knock, unable to hear the door over his own noise. When he finally poked his head out, you felt some of the anger leave you. Despite living in the building for a few months now, you’d never actually gotten know your neighbors and you were starting to regret it as you looked at the man in front of you, red hair sticking up in all directions, thick-rimmed glasses sliding down his nose. His gently curved jaw was covered in stubble. You wanted to run your fingers against the roughness. At least, until he opened his mouth.

“Well, hello. Didn’t think anyone else’d be up at this hour.”

“Pretty sure half the building’s awake with all that hammering you’re doing.”

“Aye, what can I say? I do love getting hammered.” He smiled at you, hoping the joke would lighten the air, but your scowl only deepend. “Alright I’m sorry, lass. I was working on a new project and got a bit carried away, but I could be convinced to keep it quiet if you tell me your name.”

You remained unimpressed. “How about you keep it quiet and I won’t tell the property manager you’ve got an open flame in your apartment.”

“I haven’t got an open flame.”

“No? Then what’s that?” You pointed to a the metal contraption in the living room. It was currently shooting a small flurry of sparks onto the carpet, which was beginning to smoke.

“Shite,” your neighbor said, bolting back into his apartment to deal with the mess and stumbling over a few stray scraps of metal. You couldn’t help but chuckle as you turned back to your apartment. “I’m Scotty, by the way,” he called after you. “It was a pleasure to-” whatever he was going to say was lost in a string of curses as the fire alarms started going off.

The second time you met Scotty was an accident. Whether or not it was a happy one was still up for debate. You were coming home from a rather unspectacular date with your boyfriend, who seemed oblivious. He was always oblivious.

You stood in the doorway to your apartment, trying to keep him from coming inside as you fumbled with your keys and your thoughts, wondering if there was an easy way to break up with someone. He, of course, couldn’t tell anything was wrong as he tried to duck around you.

“Come on, babe. I want a beer.”

“You had three at the restaurant,” you muttered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” you sighed. “I just...I think-”

“You think? That’s a new one.” He tried to duck around you again, but you put a hand to his chest.

“Yes, Rob, I think. I think you should leave.”

“Fine, I’ll grab a beer for the road, then.”

“No, I think it’s better if you don’t.”

“God, stop being such a bitch. I’m getting a fucking beer.” Rob grabbed your arm hard enough to make you wince. Almost as soon as he grabbed you he was yanked off.

“Oi, mate. Think she said it’s time for you to go.” You had to admit, the leather jacket made Scotty look tough, despite being half a head shorter than Rob.

“Don’t think it’s any of your business, Braveheart.”

You tried to worm your way between the two before their testosterone got the best of them. Before you could get a word in, Rob pushed you out of the way, sending you back first into the wall. Your head cracked back against it, sending a ringing through your ears. The hallway spun as you blinked the world back into focus in time to see Scotty pull back and swing a punch at Rob, who swung back twice as hard. Scotty crumpled in front of you.

He woke up on a couch that definitely wasn’t his. It was actually comfortable and smelled faintly like flowers. Scotty imagined his smelled like week-old Guinness.

“Oh thank God,” you said, setting a cup of tea on the coffee table as Scotty sat up. “I was starting to think I might have to call an ambulance.”

“Glad you didn’t. My mates’d have my hide if they find out I was in another fight.”

You bit your bottom lip, holding an ice pack out to him. “Wasn’t much of a fight, was it?” Scotty cracked a smile, laughing so hard he forgot how much his head hurt.

The two of you met many times after that, sharing stories and beers and occasionally couches if you fell asleep during whatever Netflix binge you were running through at the moment. For the most part, you were willing to forgive Scotty’s midnight mechanics since the two of you became friends.

Tonight was different. It was your first Christmas alone - not just since you and Rob broke up. Your parents had booked a couples cruise for Christmas and would be partying in Antigua, leaving you by yourself in your small apartment. You hadn’t even bothered to put up any decorations, figuring there was no one to impress. Instead, you threw yourself into work, finishing your third straight 14 hour work day and looking forward to nothing more than a good night’s sleep on Christmas Eve.

You were just drifting off when the sound of bagpipes drifted through your wall. With a huff, you rolled over, sandwiching your head between pillows. The sound was barely even muffled. You reached for your phone to text Scotty to keep it down. You got a one word response:

Scrooge.

The music quieted, though, and you sank back into your bed, revelling in the silence before it was pierced with a round of raucous laughter. You stared up at the ceiling, listening to glasses clink together, the sound of bagpipes still in the background. With a groan, you rolled out of bed and pulled on the first pair of jeans you found. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.

That’s how you ended up in front of Scotty’s apartment, trying to ignore the way your heart beat faster when he shouted your name excitedly. You spared him a joke about the sweater he wore, bright red with a T. Rex in a Santa hat, as you entered his apartment.

It was a mess of lights and decoration and half-finished projects scattered around the living room. Scotty quickly introduced you to his friends before handing you a cup of (spiked) cider. “You’re just in time. We were just about to break out the eggs.”

“Eggs,” you asked, eyeing him warily.

“Aye, it’s an old tradition. You crack an egg and it tells you yer future.” You bit back a laugh, not wanting to hurt Scotty’s feelings. Excitement was written all over his face as he plopped back on the couch, moving a stack of paper plates to make room for you. “Why don’t you go first, love? Ye just prick the egg with this pin and drop it into the water and wait to see what shape the whites take.”

“I don’t think I’m drunk enough for this yet,” you teased as you reached for an egg. Still, you grabbed the glass of water and pin. Scotty held his hands over yours, showing you how to poke through the shell without breaking the egg. Then, you dropped it into the water and watched the whites ooze out. To you, it looked like a mess, but you heard Scotty hum approvingly beside you.

“An arch. Means you’ve got some conflict at work or with yer family. That why you’re spending Christmas alone?”

You stared at Scotty, trying to tell if he was joking. You hadn’t told him about your parents’ cruise, but you were hesitant to believe in the clairvoyant powers of an egg. “Shut up,” you teased, handing the pin to the blond man in the armchair next to you. The cider must’ve been stronger than you thought because you already couldn’t remember his name. Kirk maybe?

Slowly, you went around the room. Kirk saw a snake in his egg whites, which Scotty said was a sign of a happy sex life. Bones, much like you, didn’t see anything in his egg, but Scotty swore up and down there was a boat, a symbol of prosperity in life and work. Finally, the pin made its way back to Scotty himself, who sat, nose against the glass, as he waited for the whites to leak out.

Even you couldn’t deny the shape it took: like an anchor, sinking and swirling as the egg whites mixed with the water. Scotty’s eyes drifted over to you, then snapped back to the glass when he saw you looking back. You thought the tips of his ears grew pink, but it could’ve just been the alcohol in his system.

“What’s that one,” you asked.

“Hm,” Scotty looked at you again briefly before looking away. “Oh, horseshoe. Just standard stuff. Luck and all that.” His ears definitely grew pinker.

Bones scoffed. “Please, I grew up in Georgia. I’ve seen my fair share of horseshoes and that ain’t one. That’s an anchor.”

“Och no, that’s not..It’s, um. It’s a….a horseshoe. You’re just too drunk to see it over there.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m not drunk, and I can see it’s an anchor. Is it a bad sign?”

Scotty shook his head. “No, not bad.”

“Then what’s it mean?” You nudged Scotty gently with your elbow when he remained silent. “Come on, Scotty. Not like you to be shy.”

He ran a hand down his face as he leaned back next you on the couch. He wrestled with himself before saying, “It means hope.”

“Wow,” you said dryly, “how unfortunate for you. I’ll pray for you and all your hope.”

“It’s also a sign of soulmates.” Scotty let his eyes drift over to you again and your breath caught in your throat. “That your life is anchored to someone else’s. Steadfast love.”

Scotty slipped a hand under your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek. If you had any doubts about what he meant, they evaporated when he pressed his lips against yours. You kissed him back perhaps too desperately, having wondered how his lips would feel every time you fell asleep together on your couch. Every time he wandered to your door in nothing but a towel his shower wouldn’t run hot water.

An uncomfortable cough broke you out of the moment and Scotty pulled away, ears red as his sweater with a smile brighter than the tree in the corner. You matched his smile, burying your face against his shoulder to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks. You could still taste peppermint on your lips.

Jim was the first to break the silence, picking an egg up and turning it in his hands. “I think I just found a new pickup line.” The room fell back into comfortable laughter as you leaned against Scotty. He put his arm around you and you felt less alone than you had any Christmas before.

Tags: @outside-the-government @martinawalker @thevalesofanduin @goingknowherewastaken @thefanficfaerie @brooke-taylor0323 @slither-in-a-half @cuddlememerrick @reading-in-moonlight

#star trek imagine #montgomery scott imagine #scotty imagine #scotty x reader #montgomery scott x reader #my fics #christmas/follower celebration

140 notes · View notes

akatdollie · 6 years ago

Note

this has probably been asked but w/e: sasori/third in a happy au? or not, entirely up to you :^)

SasoThird -

Verse: Through the Looking Glass, Darkly -

AKA the one where Sasori stays in Suna because he’s kind of a stalker and the Third doesn’t mind so much (because at least he’s not dead; also his stalker likes to spoil him and is lovely).

where they first met and how - At a parade celebrating Suna’s victory in the Second Shinobi War. The Council selected Sasori and many other veterans to be awarded for outstanding service to the state; the Third was the one that gave them their medal. Sasori was impressed by his warm manner and powerful speech… the Third wasn’t particularly stunned by Sasori. Ah well. Better luck next time!

who fell for who first ( if applicable ) - Hahahahaha. While Sasori developed a lot of respect (and eventually a crush, and eventually… this unhealthy sort of love), the Third is not interested in Sasori until way later in life.

how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved - Sasori has feelings way before he is even on the Third’s radar.

They get closer during the Third Shinobi War, when Sasori is more mature. Then, afterwards, Sasori uses his seat on the Council (passed down in the family; abandoned by Chiyo) to discreetly nominate himself to be the Kage’s personal assistant/advisor. He oversees the Third’s schedule; processes his mail and drafts replies; arranges lunch; makes sure the Third’s home is stocked with food; etc, etc. Good worker bee. Integrates himself into the Kazekage’s life.

He serves loyally for about five years (“the perfect puppet,” he likes to call himself), until the Third actually… flirts. Which Sasori never did. Because he didn’t know how to flirt. Um. Do they teach you to do this in training camp? No? Yikes. Well. He learns quickly.

who asks who out and how ( with a sign? spelled out on a cake? just a simple ‘will you go out with me’? ) - Sasori already assumes they’re dating so there’s no need to ask the Third out. The Third is too busy, you know, ruling, to worry about courting a man that’s clearly in love with him.

where their first date was and what it was like - Sasori would tell you that their first date was when the Third took him on an impromptu tour of his Father’s tomb. The Third would say that it was three years later, when he looked over at his assistant, bored, and asked Sasori to accompany him on a walk. They ended up getting in an argument about this or that scholar, and go to the Kazekage’s personal library, looking for a particular passage of a book to settle the affair.

who proposes first - I don’t think they ever marry. Neither of them see a point in the ceremony, they can’t have children, and the Third has a reputation to maintain along the clerics. That said, the Third is one that makes the first move that is blatantly “romantic,” requesting that Sasori draw him, knowing what art means to the puppeteer.

where the proposal happens and how ( kiss cam at a baseball game? on a hillside surrounded by ducks? at a disney park? ) - See above. Once the line has been breached, Sasori starts asking that the Third model for him; they also spend more non-work time just generally in each other’s company.

if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away - I headcanon that Suna doesn’t particularly care one way or another about same sex marriages … as long as the line is secured (which it is through cousin Rasa, thank god for him and Karura doing it like bunnies) no one cares who the Kazekage spends his days or nights with.

So, it’s not quite a secret, but Sasori would rather keep the Third to himself than let the “jealous little snakes” take what he’s earned.

The Third just prefers discretion. There’s really no need to tell the world what is his, but he may occasionally make sly digs about being romantically blessed to those who are less fortunate than he (i.e., the world).

if they adopt any pets together - No, Sasori has his human puppet collection which he tends to, not quite as numerous as canon as he has other things to focus on (micromanaging the village, tormenting Rasa, making sure the Third gets his tea on time), rather than carving up bodies… The Kazekage has quite a number of Sunan horses, however.

who’s more dominant - They both do this thing where they think they’re the one in charge… Even though they’re mostly equals. No...I’m in control, they tell themselves. (Idiots.)

where their first kiss was and what it was like - It was at the Kazekage’s estate. Sasori standing above the Third, reading some important documents over his shoulder, the Third looking up at him, admiring how the kohl sharpened his eyes and how his hair caught the candlelight… grabbing Sasori by the back of his neck and pulling down.

It stole Sasori’s breath away.

if they have any matching couples stuff ( mugs? sweaters? pillowcases? ) - Sasori goes into the Kazekage’s closet and makes sure to add accessories that allude to him--red scarves, arachnid patterns, etc. The Third doesn’t mind. Dressing himself is a bother. Actually he finds it a bit endearing.

how into pda they are - Sasori likes standing behind the Kazekage at a respectable distance, showing ownership. The Third knows full well that he does this. Occasionally he will drag Sasori behind a pillar for some alone time.

who holds the umbrella when it rains - It doesn’t rain in Suna. But occasionally they travel to other lands… And Sasori, being too short to hold it, gets a puppet instead.

where their usual ‘date spot’ is ( if applicable ) - in the Third’s bedroom with a small buffet of fancy foods personally selected by Sasori.

who’s more protective - Sasori is obsessive but it is the Third who will raze villages in the unlikely event that someone hurts him.

if they argue about anything - They bicker about philosophy but no serious arguments unless Sasori continues making human puppets against the Third’s direct orders.

who leaves more marks ( lipstick, hickeys, scratchmarks etc. ) - Neither, naturally, though the Third likes to play a game where he tries to make Sasori lose enough control to scratch trails down his back. If Sasori tells the Third to bite him, the Third would, just to make a point.

who steals whose clothes and how often - At this point I’m certain that Sasori steals clothes from all of his lovers, but for the Third it’s not often, less so when they get together, and even then only in the mornings before the sun heats up the sky. (The robes don’t fit him, which is annoying. They are not suitable for everyday life.)

how they cuddle ( spooning? facing each other? ) - Facing each other, Sasori’s head in the Third’s chest. The Kazekage likes admiring him.

what their favourite nonsexual activity is - Sasori likes serving the Third tea, which he finds funny, because in my Suna offering tea is an innuendo for offering sex haha. He usually does this while gossiping about other politicians, Councilmen, etc., which the Kazekage finds useful and entertaining.

The Third likes taking walks with Sasori, especially in the desert ruins, where the Kazekage chatters on and on about long dead civilizations.

how long they stay mad at each other - The Third dismisses Sasori for a full month when the man fails to obey an order to his expectations. Sasori avoids him for two. Then the Third refuses to acknowledge him for another three. They’re both way too prideful.

if they ever split up and / or get back together - See above. The Third eventually corners Sasori, deciding he’s had enough, and the two hash it out.

what their usual coffee / tea orders are - Sasori gets thick, imported coffee. The Third has red tea, usually, but enjoys sampling foreign, expensive drinks.

if they ever have any children together - Nope.

if they have any special pet names for each other - Sasori calls the Third, “My Lord,” because he’s his, and a Lord. Third calls Sasori simply “mine”. Like it’s a fact.

what their shared living space is like ( messy? clean? what kind of decor? ) - Clean and pristine, how the Third prefers it. No clutter except for a pile of books they are currently reading, and loose art paper here and there. A lot of marble, open floor plan, low tables with cushions on top of a lush carpet? It’s nice.

what their first christmas / hanukkah / etc as a couple was like - Suna doesn’t celebrate either holiday in my headcanons, but there are plenty of festivals devoted to various gods, where the city swells with merchants and food vendors from all across the Land of Wind and sometimes other countries.

Sasori usually spends them at the Third’s side, doing various official ceremonies, religious rites, visiting temples, etc. No kissing babies please. it’s actually very exhausting for them both, but the Third enjoys observing so many people in one place, particularly so devoted to him. Humans are so interesting.

if they have any ‘couple traditions’ ( buying a new mug for their collection every year? baking every friday evening? ) - Once their relationship is a bit more established, they eat dinner together often, and feed each other on forks.

who’s the big spoon / little spoon - Sasori is reluctantly the small spoon if only because it’s convenient on cold desert nights.

What is more likely is that the Third ends up sprawled on top of him like an octopus, hair and limbs loose and everywhere.

who falls asleep first and who wakes up first - They both fall asleep and wake up at roughly the same time, as they keep the same schedule, but the Third has to get up first because his morning routine is more high maintenance.

who hogs the bathroom - They both hog the bathroom for makeup purposes but the Third spends more time on his appearance, adorning himself with gold and carefully applying kohl. Sasori finishes first and helps him with his hair because otherwise they will be late, damn it.

(The Third enjoys being pampered.)

who kills the spiders / takes them outside - the Third lazily asks Sasori to take them out. They aren’t worth killing, in his opinion.

...Sasori privately considers them very cool, and maybe takes a couple minutes so sketch them.

...The Third notices and gets Sasori a particularly rare one for his birthday; black, striped with gold, and very, very deadly.

💘

#nycthemerals #akatdollie #SasoThird #///I need a new tag for this pair #///it is a bit boring but this is the 'happiest' AU for them in canon #///though I can think of a couple other AUs that aren't on my list which would be more interesting

25 notes · View notes

izzyfandoms · 6 years ago

Text

Emby (Emile x Toby)

Okay so Emile Picani x Toby (October) is a crack ship, and I know that, but it's a crack ship that I ADORE and there's like almost no content for it (it features in a serial killer au im a part of (and some art drawn of the au) but otherwise I've seen literally nothing for it)

Okay but seriously think about how adorable it is

Emile is a small and soft pastel boy and Toby is a tall goth boy (who acts very cool and tough in public but is a big nerd on the inside)

They are utterly smitten with each other, but are certain that they aren't each other's type

Just imagine mutual pining with the two of them both talking to their mutual friends about it and it kills all of them that they're both so oblivious

They're also both so obvious about their feelings everyone is baffled by the fact that they don't notice each other's crushes

Like, Toby is a pretty cool guy (gets along well with Remy) and he probably has a relatively tough reputation

But he literally trips over his own feet and his face goes very very red everytime he sees Emile in a cute outfit - especially something like a pastel skirt and sweater

Emile always notices and helps him up, but never realised why Toby is suddenly very clumsy in front of him

On the other hand, Emile's the exact same whenever Toby wears makeup (and especially if he's also wearing something like a crop top)

He literally walked right into a wall once (he was okay)

Toby was very concerned; their friends couldn't stop laughing

Emile gets very excited about cartoons, and Toby gets excited about halloween and horror and all things spooky

Emile never told Toby he was scared of horror movies though, so one day Toby invited him over to watch one and he got so scared he actually cried

Toby felt very bad and they watched cartoons until Emile fell asleep on top of Toby

Toby panicked but didn't want to wake up Emile and he couldn't reach his phone so eventually he just fell asleep too

They were very embarrassed when they woke up (and very flustered)

I also imagine Emile being able to cook, so imagine him teaching Toby!

During halloween they make spooky themed cupcakes and cookies together and Toby's concentrating face when decorating them is adorable

It kills Emile and he always goes very red (but Toby doesn't noticed he's concentrating so hard on the baked goods)

I can imagine they both have sweet tooths and they always eat so much candy during halloween they both get stomach aches (though they believe it's worth it)

So, imagining them mutual pining is adorable, but imagining them together is even more adorable

First of all, there would be so many cuddles

They're holding hands all the time and whenever they watch cartoons or a movie they're snuggling (they're so sweet they could give you a cavity)

When standing up, the height difference is so big that Emile has to stand up on his tiptoes and get Toby to lean down to be able to kiss him

Emile tried borrowing their friend Roman's high heels once (he was very wobbly and not good at walking in them) but he was still a bit shorter than toby (it did make kissing easier though)

Imagine Emile having a bad day and coming home to Toby giving him chocolate or something else sweet and they just snuggle and watch cartoons

They watch scary films sometimes (Emile still gets terrified but it is easier when snuggling Toby (who is tall and will protect))

Toby protests watching horror films though cos he knows Emile doesn't like that (but Emile is Determined)

Okay but honestly these boys are like opposites in most things it's adorable

For example Toby loves snakes and spiders and Emile is terrified and will Scream when he sees a Slightly Large Bug

Their senses of style are also very different

This is very much an opposites attract type situation

Uhhh i'm running out of ideas that i can put here so here's some random scenarios

Toby doing Emile's makeup

Baking together and making an absolute mess

Waking up early in the morning on a weekend and a sleepy Emile just shuffling closer to Toby and giving him a sleepy kiss before snuggling into his chest and they both fall back to sleep

The two of them going on walks and holding hands and they get weird looks cos of the opposite styles (Toby glares at them and they leave them alone)

Toby binge-watching cartoons so he can talk about theories with Emile

Singing duets from cartoons!

Toby getting excited during halloween and when he talks about original myths for monsters and stuff like that his eyes light up and Emile feels like he's falling in love all over again

Emile gets all excited and giggly when watching new episodes of cartoons and Toby ends up watching him more than the new episode and just smiling softly at how adorable Emile is

Toby isn't very good at cooking and tends to mess up everytime he tries to cook Emile something (but Emile usually eats it cos he's a sweetheart like that)

The two of them going on a walk and Emile's cold and he left his cardigan at home so Toby gives him his jacket and it's like black and the arms are way too long for Emile it's adorable and doesn't match his outfit in the slightest

The two of them dyeing their hair for halloween! Toby knows what he's doing so he helps Emile (Toby probably chooses to dye the tips of his his purple or orange or something halloweeny and Emile goes with pastel blue or pink)

Snuggling is amazing because Toby is very tall and Emile is very soft

Once they're together Emile usually sits half in Toby's lap or lying on him when they watch TV or a movie together

Sometimes they like to take each other out on fancy dates and give each other flowers and go to nice restaurants and the one who planned the date is always so flustered the entire time it's always adorable

If anyone is ever mean to Emile, Toby will literally fight them

One day they try a style swap and it's amazing seeing Toby decked out in pastels and Emile in goth clothing and dark makeup

Toby tries on Emile's glasses sometimes as a joke and Emile has seen photos of that (he is basically blind without his glasses) and thinks he's very cute like that

Sleepy Toby is the best he is almost never coherent and is just mumbling always and is the most snuggly man alive

Just!!!! These!!! Boys!!! Are!!!! So!!!! Cute!!!!

I need more people other than like 3 of my friends to get on board the Emby ship cos it is honestly so adorable and I need more of it

#sanders sides #me #sanders sides crack ships #emby #emile x toby #emile picani #toby sanders #october sanders #fluff #sanders shorts #cartoon therapy

36 notes · View notes

ts1989fanatic · 6 years ago

Text

Our Wish List for Taylor Swift's Seventh Studio Album

Judging from the superstar's recent Instagram posts, TS7 could be on its way.

Without a single word, Taylor Swift has slowly been teasing her army of devoted fans with the possibility of new music, all thanks to a flurry of pastel-hued Instagram activity. Does a caption-less post filled with palm trees and stars signal the start of a new era? Does the number of stairs she’s sitting on in a follow-up post point to a release date? What does Taylor peering through fence slats mean?

As a certified Taylor stan, I was counting the number of mysterious stars and palm trees along with every other Swiftie in the world. I prize the selfie she gifted me with during her surprise appearance at the Reputation pop-up as the most-liked picture on my Instagram feed. I bought my brother a hand-numbered “Delicate” lithograph when I saw her on tour just to rub in the fact that I had sprung for floor seats in the 20th row (and also because I’m a good brother). I even happen to be wearing my stonewashed Reputation Stadium Tour sweater -- which remains my favorite piece of merch I’ve ever purchased -- as I write this.

Taylor Swift Spotted Leaving Recording Studio

Theories are running rampant on social media regarding the details of TS7, and as speculation continues to reach a fever pitch without any official announcement, release date or surprise single drop, here’s my wish list for Taylor’s elusive seventh studio album.

Taylor has never been one to shy away from taking musical risks with a new album cycle. From the dubstep beat of “I Knew You Were Trouble.” to the glossy synth-pop sheen of 1989, she’s changed her sonic landscape on every album since Speak Now, so it’s safe to assume that the superstar will break new ground with her next LP. Without a lead single to dissect, there’s no telling where Taylor could be getting her latest musical inspiration from, but at this point, plenty of fans would love a touch of her country roots on at least a few songs as a reminder of the Taylor they first fell in love with. Personally, I also wouldn’t mind a return to the sparkling 1989-era sonics, but I'm equally ready for a mind-blowing left turn that no one but Taylor is expecting.

A Joe Alwyn 'Love Story'?

Unlike the ripped-from-the-tabloids lead-up to Reputation’s release in fall 2017, the Taylor of 2019 isn’t dominating the headlines with rumors of feuds and gossip. This time around, there's no public record that needs correcting or trail of ex-boyfriends to lyrically skewer. Instead she’s happily played the supportive girlfriend to Joe Alwyn throughout awards season, even opting to skip this year’s Grammy Awards to be by his side at the BAFTAs. Any mention on Reputation of her romance with the British actor was merely hinted at, leaving fans speculating about songs like “Delicate” and "Call It What You Want" and veiled references scattered throughout her music videos. Will she open up about her mostly private relationship to give us “Love Story 2.0"?

Dream Collaborations

For her last two albums, Taylor relied primarily on pop heavyweights Max Martin, Shellback and Jack Antonoff to construct an endless parade of pop bangers. The partnerships clearly worked, delivering “Shake It Off,” “Blank Space,” “Out of the Woods” and “End Game.” However, a new album cycle is always a good time to bring both old and new voices to the table. Liz Rose, who helped Taylor write more than a dozen hits in her early career -- from “Tim McGraw” and “Teardrops on My Guitar” to “You Belong With Me” and beloved Red album cut “All Too Well” -- would be a welcome return, and I’d also love to see what Taylor could create with songwriters and producers she hasn’t worked with before, like Bonnie McKee, Emily Warren and Mozella.

Taylor Swift Leaves Sweet Comment On Camila Cabello's Birthday Post

As for guest features on the new record, it would be amazing to see some of Taylor’s public, adoring friendships turn into professional relationships, a la her multiple team-ups with good friend Ed Sheeran. Watching Taylor perform “Shake It Off” with Camila Cabello and Charli XCX in the pouring rain at MetLife Stadium last summer made me realize I’d positively live for a studio collaboration with either of her Reputation tourmates. Another obvious choice? Shawn Mendes, who served as an opener on Taylor’s 1989 World Tour and also made a special appearance on the Reputation Tour to duet with her on his hit “There’s Nothing Holding Me Back.” I mean, could you imagine Taylor and Shawn on dueling guitars?

Here Comes the Sun

The imagery surrounding the Reputation era was filled with snakes, cynicism and a certain world-weariness from the “Look What You Made Me Do” singer, and rightly so, considering the constant siege she was under from what must have felt like all sides. Now that she’s successfully weathered the storm and taken back her narrative, I’d personally love to see Taylor ditch the snakes and reintroduce some of the sunnier elements of her look while still reveling in the melancholy romance that permeates her discography. If her recent palm-tree-and-star-filled Instagram posts are any indication, the old Taylor may yet have a chance of being resurrected and returning stronger -- and happier -- than ever.

2 notes · View notes

rachlou86 · 6 years ago

Link

Judging from the superstar's recent Instagram posts, TS7 could be on its way. Without a single word, Taylor Swift has slowly been teasing her army of devoted fans with the possibility of new music, all thanks to a flurry of pastel-hued Instagram activity. Does a caption-less post filled with palm trees and stars signal the start of a new era? Does the number of stairs she’s sitting on in a follow-up post point to a release date? What does Taylor peering through fence slats mean? As a certified Taylor stan, I was counting the number of mysterious stars and palm trees along with every other Swiftie in the world. I prize the selfie she gifted me with during her surprise appearance at the Reputation pop-up as the most-liked picture on my Instagram feed. I bought my brother a hand-numbered “Delicate” lithograph when I saw her on tour just to rub in the fact that I had sprung for floor seats in the 20th row (and also because I’m a good brother). I even happen to be wearing my stonewashed Reputation Stadium Tour sweater -- which remains my favorite piece of merch I’ve ever purchased -- as I write this. Theories are running rampant on social media regarding the details of TS7, and as speculation continues to reach a fever pitch without any official announcement, release date or surprise single drop, here’s my wish list for Taylor’s elusive seventh studio album. Breaking New Sonic Ground Taylor has never been one to shy away from taking musical risks with a new album cycle. From the dubstep beat of “I Knew You Were Trouble.” to the glossy synth-pop sheen of 1989, she’s changed her sonic landscape on every album since Speak Now, so it’s safe to assume that the superstar will break new ground with her next LP. Without a lead single to dissect, there’s no telling where Taylor could be getting her latest musical inspiration from, but at this point, plenty of fans would love a touch of her country roots on at least a few songs as a reminder of the Taylor they first fell in love with. Personally, I also wouldn’t mind a return to the sparkling 1989-era sonics, but I'm equally ready for a mind-blowing left turn that no one but Taylor is expecting. A Joe Alwyn 'Love Story'? Unlike the ripped-from-the-tabloids lead-up to Reputation’s release in fall 2017, the Taylor of 2019 isn’t dominating the headlines with rumors of feuds and gossip. This time around, there's no public record that needs correcting or trail of ex-boyfriends to lyrically skewer. Instead she’s happily played the supportive girlfriend to Joe Alwyn throughout awards season, even opting to skip this year’s Grammy Awards to be by his side at the BAFTAs. Any mention on Reputation of her romance with the British actor was merely hinted at, leaving fans speculating about songs like “Delicate” and "Call It What You Want" and veiled references scattered throughout her music videos. Will she open up about her mostly private relationship to give us “Love Story 2.0"? Dream Collaborations For her last two albums, Taylor relied primarily on pop heavyweights Max Martin, Shellback and Jack Antonoff to construct an endless parade of pop bangers. The partnerships clearly worked, delivering “Shake It Off,” “Blank Space,” “Out of the Woods” and “End Game.” However, a new album cycle is always a good time to bring both old and new voices to the table. Liz Rose, who helped Taylor write more than a dozen hits in her early career -- from “Tim McGraw” and “Teardrops on My Guitar” to “You Belong With Me” and beloved Red album cut “All Too Well” -- would be a welcome return, and I’d also love to see what Taylor could create with songwriters and producers she hasn’t worked with before, like Bonnie McKee, Emily Warren and Mozella. As for guest features on the new record, it would be amazing to see some of Taylor’s public, adoring friendships turn into professional relationships, a la her multiple team-ups with good friend Ed Sheeran. Watching Taylor perform “Shake It Off” with Camila Cabello and Charli XCX in the pouring rain at MetLife Stadium last summer made me realize I’d positively live for a studio collaboration with either of her Reputation tourmates. Another obvious choice? Shawn Mendes, who served as an opener on Taylor’s 1989 World Tour and also made a special appearance on the Reputation Tour to duet with her on his hit “There’s Nothing Holding Me Back.” I mean, could you imagine Taylor and Shawn on dueling guitars? Here Comes the Sun The imagery surrounding the Reputation era was filled with snakes, cynicism and a certain world-weariness from the “Look What You Made Me Do” singer, and rightly so, considering the constant siege she was under from what must have felt like all sides. Now that she’s successfully weathered the storm and taken back her narrative, I’d personally love to see Taylor ditch the snakes and reintroduce some of the sunnier elements of her look while still reveling in the melancholy romance that permeates her discography. If her recent palm-tree-and-star-filled Instagram posts are any indication, the old Taylor may yet have a chance of being resurrected and returning stronger -- and happier -- than ever.

#billboard #ts7

1 note · View note