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thequackcity · 3 years ago

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Quackity and Schlatt’s Relationship - More Complicated Then You Think

(this is all /rp and about the characters from the dream smp! pls assume i have the dignity not to write analysis of youtubers)

recently there was a bit of discourse surrounding the relationship between Quackity and Schlatt floating around on tumblr. tho i never saw the original post that sparked the conversation, i did see a few posts that were inspired by it mentioning how they disliked that the original post implied that Quackity and Schlatt were mutually abusive and/or equally bad for each other

since i never saw the original post, i can't be sure if that's what the op meant to imply. it's not really my place to speak about a post that i never got the chance to read. BUT the conversation that was caused by the post in question did get me thinking about how this fandom treats the relationship between Quackity and Schlatt and how little nuance there is in discussions about it

now before i say anything else, i want to make a few things clear:

i don't think Quackity and Schlatt’s relationship is mutually abusive. no need to worry about hearing that from this post

i don't look down on ppl who have different interpretations of their relationship

there will be potentially triggering content in this analysis. i will place a quick warning whenever i think one is needed!

their relationship is romantic in canon and therefore i’ll be treating it as romantic

alright now that we’ve gotten all of that out of the way, we can finally get on with the analysis! i apologize for how long this is gonna be

part 1: let's talk relationship!

i think we can all agree that Quackity and Schlatt’s relationship was not exactly a healthy one. tho it didn't start out that way, it certainly turned into what could be read as abusive or toxic (i personally read their relationship as being abusive in its later half due to evidence provided by the text, but i understand if others prefer to view it as just toxic instead)

but what happened that led to their partnership ending so badly? what caused all of this mess?

well, it was a lot of things. but we will get to that later. let's talk relationship first!

from the very beginning, Quackity and Schlatt’s relationship was pretty one-sided. tho they both clearly liked each other as friends/partners in crime both before and after the election (yes they did interact before the election!) Quackity was also interested in Schlatt romantically- something that Schlatt wasn't fully committed to

as we all know from the infamous date stream and from a few other moments, Quackity and Schlatt enjoyed playfully flirting with each other- tho it was pretty obvious that Quackity was more serious about it then Schlatt was even tho Schlatt considered Quackity to be very attractive

in my opinion, Quackity is someone who wants a long term relationship, while Schlatt is more interested in flings. this can be seen in Schlatt refusing to marry Quackity and rejecting most of his advances while Quackity tried his best to convince him to feel otherwise. Tommy put it best: Quackity is just one of Schlatt’s many bitches U_U

to Quackity, the romantic aspect of their relationship was very important. because Schlatt never actually shot him down or told him that he didn't feel the same way, Quackity took that to mean that they were truly in love. Schlatt on the other hand wasn't very invested in the romantic side of things but clearly valued Quackity’s looks and his support as an ally against Pogtopia so he never fully rejected Quackity’s advances

this might not seem like too big of a deal considering the other things that happened between them, but i think it shows part of the nature of their relationship. there is a lot of miscommunication and, on Schlatt’s end, manipulation of emotions. love is a strong motivator for loyalty and Schlatt is a smart guy who would know how to use that to his advantage

but that isn't to say that Schlatt didn't ever care about Quackity!

Schlatt is a complicated guy and figuring out when he's actually being genuine can be pretty difficult. but i think there are some moments that point to Schlatt genuinely caring about Quackity

when he was alive, Schlatt was pretty paranoid. not as paranoid as Wilbur, but certainly up there. but there were never any times where he truly questioned Quackity’s loyalties after his first day as president. Schlatt also seemed truly upset that Quackity betrayed him, bringing up their status as partners in crime while ranting about how much it hurt him and singling Quackity out while talking about how he had been abandoned during his time of need

Schlatt also spent a lot of time sulking after Quackity betrayed him and whining to Ponk about needing a new bitch. this is in contrast to how angry he was after Tubbo betrayed him- both during and after the execution

there is also the situation with the Big Man Gym

after being dead for a while, Schlatt contacted Quackity despite them leaving off on bad terms and asked for him to visit him in his cave gym. when Quackity showed up, Schlatt talked about how he valued their relationship and the good times they had together. tho this can easily be seen as emotional manipulation, Schlatt’s a lot smarter than he seems and- if he doesnt have memory issues due to being a ghost- would know that Quackity’s opinion of him was in the dump at the time of his death and most likely wouldn't have improved since then. Fundy has a higher opinion of Schlatt than Quackity does and is someone who obviously craves validation. but Schlatt went to Quackity first anyway and trusted him to help revive him

i think that this is all good evidence that points towards Schlatt truly caring about Quackity as much as someone like Schlatt can care about anyone- or at least valuing him as a companion

i also think that it is pretty common knowledge that Quackity cared about Schlatt- and possibly still does- but i will go over a bit of evidence that i haven’t already mentioned before we move on to the next part

Quackity tried multiple times to impress Schlatt (like when he lied about knowing how to play chess), would attempt to help Schlatt when he was drowning in water, sadly said that they could have had something together while Schlatt was dying in the caravan, and implied that he wouldn’t have left if Schlatt hadn’t taken down the white house. Quackity also willingly went to the Big Man Gym after being summoned there by Schlatt and wanted to revive him long before the revive book became part of the story

part 2: what made it fall apart?

everything i've said so far has been pretty interesting (hopefully) but it doesn't really answer the original question: what went wrong to turn Schlatt and Quackity’s mainly positive partnership sour?

well it comes down to two things in my opinion: their incompatible desires for political power and Schlatt’s deteriorating mental state

Quackity wanted political power from the beginning and wasn't afraid to be open about his desires. he pooled his votes with Schlatt because Schlatt offered him the position of vice president, something Wilbur and Tommy weren’t willing to give to him. tho Quackity obviously cared about L’Manburg and wanted to see good things for it, he also desired power and was willing to team up with someone he didn't fully agree with to get said power

at 32:40 in this video, Quackity talks about how in politics everyone uses everyone so it's alright if Schlatt is using him. he then talks about how he doesn't want to be a man with no power and how he understands that Schlatt’s main goal is also gaining/keeping power. Quackity also shows a bit of his naughty evil side by saying if he overthrows Schlatt then the fun ends too early!

(side note: these two are pretty evenly matched in intelligence and manipulativeness, i love it!)

it's a bit of a fandom misconception that Quackity was a love sick yes man during the Manburg era. tho Quackity did want to please Schlatt and was in love with him, he didn't shy away from standing up to or disagreeing with Schlatt when he believed it was needed

at around 26:12 of this video, Quackity and Schlatt meet together in private and Quackity tells Schlatt off for playing down his role in the power structure of Manburg. since this was very early in Schlatt’s reign, Quackity shows no fear towards him and confidently tells him not to treat him like that

Quackity also broke Niki out of jail after regretting letting her be put there in the first place, tried to convince Schlatt to not execute Tubbo, jumped in front of Fundy when Schlatt tried to attack him, tried to stop Schlatt from tearing down buildings, and attempted to protect the white house he built from being destroyed by Schlatt. these are not behaviors of a pure yes man but of someone who, despite fear, has the confidence to speak up for himself even when disrespected by someone in authority

Quackity has always been someone who wanted power and someone who was never a yes man to authority. this contradicts with how Schlatt believed Quackity should act as vice president. in Schlatt’s opinion, Quackity’s one job is to sit around looking pretty while Schlatt does all of the important things and holds all of the power. Schlatt was a big fan of promoting people to worthless positions of authority and its pretty obvious that he considered vice president to be similar to the fake positions he gave Fundy and Tubbo

in the end, this was a big part of what destroyed their relationship. like it or not, Quackity’s a power hungry guy and always has been. he didn't like that Schlatt constantly shoved him aside and refused to listen to him

now onto the nasty bit...Schlatt’s mental state

cw for mentions of alcoholism, mental deterioration, and abusive behavior

before i say anything more, i just want to say that i don't think having issues with alcoholism makes someone a bad person. i personally have some issues with such things so it would be pretty stupid of me to say being an alcoholic makes you a bad person. alcoholism does negatively affect your cognitive functions tho and, combined with other health issues, can cause some of the very serious mental problems that Schlatt clearly struggles with

throughout the Manburg era, Schlatt’s mental state rapidly deteriorated. he went from a pretty normal- if eccentric- guy who had a drinking problem, to someone who was delirious most of the time. it's a sharp and noticeable decline that caused a lot of pain for Quackity due to Schlatt often taking his excess aggression out on him by yelling at him and/or belittling him. tho Schlatt often belittled Quackity before he went fully off of the deep end, it was never as aggressive as it was when he was in this delirious state of mind

it was during one of Schlatt’s most aggressive and delirious moments that he tore down the white house despite Quackity’s protests. as we all know, this caused Quackity to snap and kill Schlatt (it's more complicated than that but we will get back to that). as mentioned previously, Quackity implied that he would have stayed with Schlatt if the white house hadn’t been destroyed

in my opinion, these two things combined are the biggest reasons why Quackity and Schlatt’s relationship fell apart. their differing desires for power were not compatible and Schlatt’s awful behavior while his mental state declined caused a rift between them that couldn't be fixed

part 3: how toxic was it really?

cw for emotional and physical abuse

as i said all the way back in part one, Quackity and Schlatt’s relationship was not healthy. i have provided many examples in the other two parts that shine a light onto why it wasn't healthy, but i didn't show the entire picture

there are many moments that show exactly how Schlatt treated Quackity when he was acting at his worst and none of them are pretty. tho Schlatt was never truly aggressive with his insults until he started to go off of the deep end, that doesn't mean that what he said wasn't negatively affecting Quackity

Schlatt would belittle, insult, and mock Quackity for his appearance not being up to his standards, for his opinions, and for being emotional in ways that Schlatt disapproved of like crying. tho Schlatt would often brush off Quackity’s reactions towards this cruel behavior, it's very clear that Schlatt’s treatment of him has stuck with Quackity in many ways

Quackity is very sensitive about his appearance and it seems to be because of how badly Schlatt hurt his self esteem during their time together. Schlatt tied Quackity’s worth to his appearance and then would claim he wasn't meeting his standards of attractiveness. we can tell that this has stuck with Quackity because of his sensitivity towards people bringing up the scar on his face (something that greatly alters his physical appearance) and he still reacts very badly when Schlatt calls him the mocking nickname flatty patty

speaking of flatty patty- that stupid insult shockingly has a lot of weight in Quackity’s relationship with Schlatt. tho its something the audience is meant to laugh at, the nickname also shows just how little Schlatt respects Quackity because he's constantly throwing it around just to make Quackity upset. Schlatt’s last words are flatty patty all because he wanted to get in one last dig at his ex and ruin Quackity’s day even further

Schlatt tends to do a lot of things that are intended to make Quackity upset. tearing down the room Quackity made for him in the white house is the biggest example of this- especially since Schlatt mentions how it will upset Quackity while he does it. you can see this moment at around 19:10 of this video

and now let's get into the elephant in the room when it comes to these two: Quackity was scared of Schlatt. tho we never really see Schlatt hit or attack Quackity physically outside of their confrontation at the white house or their confrontation in the caravan, these clips imply that Quackity was at the very least scared of Schlatt physically harming him in some way

as for actually physically harming him, Schlatt hits Quackity multiple times with a pickaxe and with his fists during their white house fight. Quackity hits Schlatt a couple times too, tho these are all primarily defensive blows since he is trying to protect himself and his property. he also chases after Quackity with a bow after Quackity’s plan to trick him into signing Manburg over to the Pogtopians fails and hits him multiple times during the caravan confrontation

all of this evidence shows that Schlatt was an abusive (or at least toxic) partner towards Quackity and someone who greatly affected him in many ways

tho Quackity did a few questionable things throughout his relationship with Schlatt (such as trying to get Schlatt to have sex with him despite Schlatt not being interested as shown in the later half of this video) and did some downright morally wrong things during his time as vice president of Manburg, no one deserves the pain of an abusive relationship- even a person who has done bad things

as a brief side note before we move on because i know people will bring it up if i skip over it, Quackity did- and most likely still does- want to literally possess Glatt. he brought up reviving Schlatt and using him as a political pawn after Schlatt’s funeral and during their conversation at the Big Man Gym Quackity talked about owning Glatt and having him work at Las Nevadas with no pay

this is unsettling behavior to say the least but this essay isnt about the aftermath of their relationship so much as it is about their relationship when it was actually happening. maybe i will make another post talking more about how Quackity’s relationship with Schlatt affected him even after Schlatt’s death and/or about Quackity’s relationship with Glatt

part 4: final thoughts

i’m not exactly sure why the nuances in Schlatt and Quackity’s relationship get lost when it comes to the fandom, but it’s pretty disappointing to see. hopefully this essay can help people take a closer look at canon and maybe even help them find something interesting that they’d want to explore!

tho the point of this essay is to clear up any misconceptions and hopefully add some nuance to the conversations surrounding Schlatt and Quackity’s relationship, i also wrote it in hopes of showing people how fascinating these two partners in crime were back in the Manburg days. i didn’t cover everything but i think i did a pretty good job for my first analysis post in the dsmp fandom

also since you read to the end, i must say thank you! it really does means a lot to me that you did. i hope you enjoyed and maybe even learned something. this post can be used as a resource if anyone wants to use it as such

here’s a tiny devil Quackity for your troubles <3

#quackity #jschlatt #manburg #dream smp analysis #dsmp analysis #posts by me #this was really fun to make!! i worry it wont show up in tags tho bc of how many links there are in it #so pls reblog!! if you read it and liked it that is haha #meta by me

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tfwlawyers · 3 years ago

Note

Not me singlehandedly going through your entire parent trap au I’m so invested even though like half of the posts are from 2015 💀

THESE THINGS HAPPEN I get such a kick out of knowing this au is still making its rounds though 😭😭

and yk what just because I know I’m never going to do anything else with this, have a 3.5k attempted scramble of fic for this au I tried writing back also in 2015. i was even less of a writer back then than I am now so it’s absolutely terrible but have at thee

“Oh, wait...” Trucy winced and tapped her earring. Apollo’s eyes widened in realization. “Looks like we have one more thing to do tonight - it’ll be super quick, I promise.”

“Oh no,” Apollo said, visibly paling, “there’s no way you’re doing that to me-”

“Then cutting my hair was a total waste,” Trucy huffed, tugging at a newly shorn lock, “because there’s no way I can go to camp with pierced ears and come home without. Come on, Polly, where’s your sense of adventure? It’s just one little pinch!”

“Just one?” he asked hesitantly, eyes now trained on the sharp needle laying on the table.

Trucy paused. “Well... I guess it’s technically two. I really only wear the one earring, but both my ears are pierced.”

Apollo sighed. “Great.”

“Nah, I got this,” Trucy said, grinning toothily. “I went with Aunt Maya when she wanted to get hers pierced, even though she chickened out at the last second.” She picked up the needle and a book of matches from the table, eyes glinting. “I had to get mine repierced because of infection the first time too. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

“Put that apple slice back,” Apollo said, narrowing his eyes at the piece of fruit in Trucy’s hands. “They’re acidic, I don’t need that anywhere near me and oh God you’re really going to shove a piece of metal into my ear, aren’t you-”

“You sure I look okay?” he asked, patting down the skirt. He squinted down at the stark white boots he’d thankfully fit into. “I’m terrified to walk in these, they look like death traps -”

“Which is why we’re practicing,” Trucy said primly, wiping her hands on a gel-stained rag. She still didn’t quite have a grasp on the correct ratio of product to actual hair, but she was much better than when they had started five weeks ago. “Now, walk towards me.”

“One last thing, I guess,” Apollo said, removing his bracelet and handing it to Trucy, watching as she carefully slid it on. He rubbed his now bare wrist absentmindedly, feeling strangely naked without it.

“So... this is really it. We’re really doing this.”

“We’re really doing this,” Trucy confirmed, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. For all her apparent enthusiasm, she looked as nervous as he felt. The studs in her ears reflected the morning light.

“Give papa a hug for me,” he said, smiling weakly.

“Give daddy one for me too,” she said.

They hesitated a moment more before Trucy threw her arms around her brother’s shoulders. Apollo’s arms immediately snaked around her waist, drawing her in tight. They clung to each other, silently willing and praying this was somehow going to all work out - that they wouldn’t just to get to meet their other parent, that they wouldn’t only get a few short weeks with the other father they hadn’t even known had existed, but that they could find some way to reconcile the two, that they wouldn’t have to lose anyone across the wide expanse of the Atlantic ever again.

“You’ve had your ears pierced,” he said almost absently, cradling her head between his hands and gently turning her neck back and forth to better view the studs. He clicked his tongue. Trucy felt her heart sink.

“Do you... hate them?” she asked tentatively.

Edgeworth’s eyes snapped to hers. They were the same soft gray color as the paint Daddy always kept too much of around the house. “On the contrary - I find they suit you incredibly well. Please tell me you didn’t get an infection.”

Her face split into a wide smile.

Apollo thumbed through a stack of canvases that had been shoved into a corner. There was a thin layer of dust of them; if he had to guess, he’d say they hadn’t been disturbed for at least three months - not a particularly long stretch of time, all things considered. They were clearly less polished works, lacking the technical skill and attention to detail that made Phoenix Wright a name to be reckoned with in the art community, but they were still beautiful in their own way. Paintings of vineyards and what looked like London, towering skyscrapers and calm seas and -

His father.

Apollo blinked.

The portrait of Miles Edgeworth drawn in rich oils did not blink back. Nor did the three that followed.

“There were a lot of paintings of the same person in daddy’s works. Some guy with grey hair,” Apollo said, struggling for nonchalance.

Maya’s grip on the mixing bowl faltered. “Is that so,” she said carefully.

“Was he one of daddy’s favorite models or something he just never told me about?”

Maya pursed her lips and continued stirring with a newfound vigor. “You could say that.”

“You’re not Apollo?” he asked, voice thick. “You’re Trucy?”

She smiled weakly. “That would be correct.” One strand of hair fell lank across her forehead - how did I not notice, Apollo hasn’t used nearly that much gel in years - and he absentmindedly tucked it behind her ear. He felt her press into the warmth of his hand, as if she were afraid he might suddenly vanish across the Atlantic again.

“I hope you don’t - I hope you don’t hate me,” she said, voice beginning to waver, “it’s just that Polly and I met at the camp and the whole thing sort of just spilled out. I’ve wanted to see you for so long, and Polly felt exactly the same way about Daddy, so we sort of just - just switched lives and hoped it wouldn’t take you so soon to notice. I really hope you don’t hate me, because I’ve wanted to meet you basically my whole life and I hope that maybe one day you can love me for me and not Polly and -” (this is ALL from movie tho so mix this up)

Edgeworth’s left hand came to cradle the rest of Trucy’s face, cutting her off mid-sentence. “Oh, my dear,” he said, cautiously tugging her forward. She came willingly, all but sprawling across his chest, tucking her head underneath his chin and wrapping her arms around his middle. “I’ve loved you since the day you came to me,” he whispered into her hair, blinking away the beginnings of tears he felt gathering at the corner of his eyes. He felt her tighten her hold and he did the same.

He poured himself a thumbnail of scotch, perfectly content to pretend he didn’t have tickets to a plane back to a state he had vowed never to set foot in again departing in less than four hours. “He was rather handsome,” he found himself admitting, absentmindedly swirling the glass and taking a sip. He paused, staring at nothing and mumbling to himself, “...had the most crooked smile. Always made me weak at the knees.”

“What was that, sir?”

Edgeworth snapped his attention back to the other man; he’d nearly forgotten Gumshoe was even in the room. “Nothing, nothing, never mind, have you seen the tickets?”

Gumshoe shrugged. That was Trucy’s cue.

“Almost ready, papa?” she asked, stepping smoothly into the room from her hiding place behind the thick wooden door. Edgeworth looked just as wild-eyed as she’d been hoping.

“Yes, of course, I’m almost finished packing -”

She didn’t even have to look at his still mostly bare suitcase to know he was lying.

“ -and you did tell your father we were coming, didn’t you?” he finished, placing his drink on a nearby dresser and running his fingers shakily through his hair.

“Absolutely,” Trucy promised.

“Ah,” Edgeworth said, fiddling with his waistcoat buttons. They looked like they’d been polished recently.

“Liar,” Gumshoe leaned down to whisper. She shushed him.

“Might I suggest we continue this little gathering inside,” Maya said, already beginning to shepherd the twins - the twins, she was going to need another vacation just to process the fact that they were together again - into the room. She twisted back around to look at Edgeworth, still shoving Apollo (that was Apollo, right?) forward. “Hi,” she began again, offering a free hand, “you probably don’t remember me -”

“Maya!” he interrupted, smiling warmly and bending to kiss her chastely on the cheek. His breath was sour with vodka and his glasses clunked awkwardly against her face. As he turned and stepped fully into the room, Maya’s cheeks(rp) began to hurt from smiling so fiercely.

“I knew I always liked him,” she said to no one as she closed the door.

This was ridiculous. This resort was full of entirely too many people who favored the same sort of eccentric clothing that man had even fourteen years ago, a disproportionate amount of them with the same slate grey hair. He almost would have written that (awkward*) expression seen from across Dahlia’s shoulder/a hotel lobby as a figment of his overtaxed imagination had it not been so much realer than the stacks of canvases in his studio. Which meant Miles was here, but he’d swept the first level of the hotel twice already after begging Dahlia to take to her room for a bit, the pool area was as depressingly empty as the inside was, and -

There he was.

Across the pool, descending the steps carefully from the inside lounge area and walking on the balls of his feet like he always did when he’d had a bit too much to drink (and why did he still remember that) was, without a doubt, Miles Edgeworth.

Phoenix suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

Edgeworth was halfway down the opposite path before Phoenix realized he should probably do something.

“Excuse me,” he said, shouldering his way through the crowd. It would be rude and more than a little intrusive to just call out his ex-husband’s name in the middle of a resort, right? Perhaps not as rude as nearly shoving the poor bellboy into the shrubbery, but, well, desperate times called for desperate measures.

He didn’t immediately notice the odd assortment of friends and family and a lumbering man in striped green swimming trunks perched on pool chairs as he stepped past, but they certainly noticed him.

“Daddy, are you okay?” Trucy asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said vaguely, refusing to take his eyes off Edgeworth. He was abruptly terrified he might vanish again if he did.

“Nick, watch out -”

“Hey, pal -”

“Daddy -”

With that, Phoenix collided into a passing service boy, arms pinwheeling wildly as he fell directly into the pool behind him.

“Hello Miles,” he said, smiling sheepishly and wringing out his tie. He fought the urge to rub the back of his neck and settled for clenching his hands into tight fists instead. “Or do you people call you Edgeworth now?”

“Miles is - Miles is fine,” Edgeworth said weakly, trying to look anywhere but Phoenix, as if this was a perfectly normal conversation they should be having for the first time after fifteen years. “My father still calls me Miles.”

Something warm coiled in his chest. It felt infinitely more dangerous than it had fifteen years ago.

“You always had a smart mouth,” he murmured, rubbing a swathe of cleaning ointment along the cut on Phoenix’s forehead. Phoenix hissed.

“So glad you remembered,” he bit through gritted teeth.

“Hush.”

Phoenix hmmed but stayed silent for a few more seconds, staring at Edgeworth as he dug back into the first aid kit. Edgeworth tried not to flush under the scrutiny.

Phoenix held his wrist in a loose grip. He should have felt clammy from the pool and the rapidly descending night, but he blazed oddly hot against Edgeworth’s skin.

“Miles, I-”

“Feenie? Who is this?”

“Dollie!” Phoenix said, shooting upright and wincing at the sudden dizziness.

Edgeworth’s burgundy coat was hung carefully over his arm, too thick for the warm California night. The buttons on his waistcoat glinted from a nearby streetlamp’s glow.

Phoenix swallowed.

“Do you have any idea where they’re taking us?” Edgeworth asked, leaning in slightly. Phoenix’s (nose twitched? something about scent memory?) and he refused to let himself acknowledge that Miles’s choice of aftershave hadn’t changed since the day they’d met. He abruptly remembered the taste of cheap wine and overly sweet cake on his tongue, felt the ghost weight of a ring fifteen years gone.

He hastily turned away.

“No idea.”

“Grandfather chipped in a bit -”

“Apollo,” Edgeworth warned.

“Alright, so Grandfather chipped in a lot, whatever, we’re poor teenagers, the point is,” he said, emphasizing the final word by pulling the ship’s impressive doors open with a firm tug, “it’s ours for the night.”

Phoenix whistled shrilly in appreciation, instinctively reaching out to ruffle Apollo’s hair. It was a testament to how important the night was that Apollo merely batted Phoenix’s hand away. “Seriously, dad,” he mumbled. His scowl was clearly forced, however; he felt oddly warm that he was able to finally use that word at all.

“Subtle,” Phoenix remarked.

“Mm,” Edgeworth agreed. “I don’t suppose we should let their efforts, however misguided they may be, go to waste, should we?”

“You just want to know who else they roped into this ridiculous scheme of theirs.”

“Oh, because you don’t.”

“I,” Phoenix said, moving to the chilled champagne propped by the windowsill and popping its cork, “have a perfectly healthy level of curiosity. It does not involve wondering what’s going on in my kid’s head. Trucy is a teenager. That’s terrifying.” He carefully poured the sparkling drink into two glasses and offered one to Edgeworth.

“I find that somewhat difficult to believe,” Edgeworth said, striding forward and taking the proffered glass. He made certain their fingers did not brush. “Thank you.”

They waited until she had hastily bowed out of the room before turning their focus back to each other. “Miles, that’s why we came up with this arrangement in the first place,” Phoenix continued, nonplussed.

“Really?” Edgeworth carefully picked up his glass flute, trying to ignore the tremor he felt running through his hands. “I thought it was because we’d agreed to never see each other again.”

Phoenix’s heart clenched. “Not ‘we’, Miles,” he said slowly, spreading his hands on the tablecloth and feeling like if he missed a step here, he would risk something he couldn’t afford to lose again.

Edgeworth took a shaky draw of wine. “You know,” he said slowly, seemingly forcing himself to meet Phoenix’s eyes, “that part is unclear to me as well.”

“Oh, you don’t remember the day you packed?” Phoenix asked.

“No, I remember that day perfectly. Did I hurt you when I threw that - oh God, what was it -”

“It was Kamisar’s Modern Criminal Procedure. It left a dent in the wall from where it rebounded off my head.”

“Oh,” Edgeworth said, at least having the grace to look properly abashed. “Right. Sorry.”

Phoenix shrugged. “It’s not like I was making it that easy on you.

And....” Edgeworth trailed off, twisting a napkin between his fingers. “You didn’t chase after me.”

Phoenix felt (something) shift. “I didn’t know that you wanted me to.”

“A toast to -”

“Our children,” Edgeworth cut in. He ignored the tightening in his chest at the our.

“Our children,” Phoenix repeated slowly, as if the words didn’t quite match with what his mouth had wanted to say.

“We both got where we actually wanted to go.”

Phoenix’s eyes never wavered from his. “We did,” he said, voice strange.

They toasted again and finished their meal in silence.

“Apollo, what are you doing in those clothes? We’ve got a plane to catch.”

“We’re getting totally ripped off,” maybe-Trucy said. “Daddy said we’d get our camping trip and we want to go.”

“Wait, hang on,” Phoenix interrupted, “what camping trip?”

“The one Aunt Maya and I make you take us on every year before school starts,” almost-definitely-Trucy said. Phoenix began to lift his finger in triumph, sure he’d found his kid -

“ -the one behind the house that runs all the way up to Gourd Lake, remember when you fell in that one year,” I’m-not-too-sure-if-this-one-is-still-in-fact-Apollo finished.

Phoenix’s arm fell listlessly to his side. Edgeworth snorted.

Phoenix shot Edgeworth a look. Thanks for helping, one of these is yours. “This is entirely unfunny, you’re going to make your father miss his flight,” he said, shifting his attention back to the twins. Honestly, he was an Ivy University graduate and Miles was a world renowned defense attorney, how were they being duped by their own kids -

“Apollo -” Edgeworth began.

“Yes?” they both said in unison.

Edgeworth groaned. “They get this from you, I’m sure,” he said.

“It’s not my fault you’ve apparently been raising a devilishly deceptive teenager,” Phoenix quipped back, never taking his eyes off the twins. He could feel the beginnings of a migraine pound at the base of his neck. “He’s probably rubbed off on Trucy.”

The twins grinned.

Phoenix rubbed a hand over his eyes before stooping to their height once again. He stared hard at each of them, looking back and forth between their faces. “This one’s Trucy,” he said slowly, pointing a finger to the sibling in orange. “I’m positive.”

“You know, I hope you’re right, Daddy. You wouldn’t want to send the wrong kid all the way back to Germany - ”

“ - would you?”

How was any of this fair?

“Here’s our proposition. We go back to Daddy’s house, pack our stuff, and the four of us leave on the camping trip.”

“The four of us?” Edgeworth interjected. They ignored him.

“And when you bring us back,” maybe-Trucy-maybe-Apollo continued, “we’ll tell you who’s Trucy and who’s Apollo.”

“Or,” Edgeworth said, carefully stepping around and in front of Phoenix and crossing his arms firmly across his chest, tapping his finger rhythmically against his arm, “new plan. I take one of you back to Germany with me whether you like it or not.”

Two identical sets of eyes twinkled back at him.

(He felt a migraine beginning to pound in his left temple.)

“You can cook now?” Edgeworth asked.

“Oh yeah,” Phoenix said. “I can make pasta. And pasta. Probably more pasta, if you ask really nicely.”

“Hm,” Edgeworth said, eyebrows scrunched in mock thought, “pasta sounds good.”

Phoenix grinned, bumping Edgeworth’s shoulder. He was warm through the cotton. “Pasta it is.”

Edgeworth looked across the seat at Apollo. His glassy eyes reflected the flickering street lamps as the taxi sped down the empty street.

“Apollo, I -” he began, deflating as Apollo turned further away. It’s entirely justified, he thought despondently. I’d hate myself as well.

“Grandfather?” Apollo called, shrugging out of his heavy jacket and hanging it on the coat rack. The house was silent.

“I’ll check the study,” Edgeworth said, tugging his jabot loose. Apollo nodded and headed towards the direction of the kitchen, toeing off his shoes on the way. Pushing open the wide doors that led to the study, Edgeworth saw someone reading a paper at the desk. He cocked his hip against the door and crossed his arms. “Hello, father. We’re back.”

The newspaper lowered. It wasn’t Gregory.

“Hiya, papa,” Trucy said. The corners of her mouth were quirked despite her obvious attempts to reign in her expression. “Did you know the Concord gets you here in half the time?”

Edgeworth slipped against the doorframe. He felt the knob dig into his hip. “I - yes, I’ve heard that.”

(Edgeworth was acutely aware of the doorknob digging into his hip from when he pressed against it. “I - yes, I’ve heard that.”)

Apollo walked into the room, drawn to the sound of voices. When he saw Trucy his face split into a blinding grin. “What are you doing here?”

Trucy neatly folded the newspaper on the desk and clasped her hands in front of her. “It took us about thirty seconds after you left that we decided we didn’t want to lose you two again,” she said, eyes crinkling.

Edgeworth swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. “We?” he said, voice cracking.

“We,” a new voice agreed.

From the corner of his eye, Edgeworth noted Trucy moving to stand by the far wall of the study, giving the vaguest attempt of privacy. It didn’t matter. His eyes were trained on Phoenix, tracking his movement as he crossed the room.

Phoenix peppered his face in light kisses, smiling into the curve of his throat and pressing his lips to the thrumming heartbeat beneath his skin.

They eventually pulled back, desperate for air. Phoenix’s eyes crinkled - crow’s feet, Edgeworth thought wildly through his haze, he’s got crow’s feet now, I haven’t seen him this close up since - and he rested his forehead against Edgeworth’s.

“God, I’m never letting you go again,” he whispered, hands snaking around the other man’s back to pull him even closer.

“You want to toast with this? I’d have thought you might want to upgrade to something with a little more class.”

Phoenix smiled sloppily, pressing a chaste kiss to his temple. “You’re the only one I said I’d drink it with, remember?”

Edgeworth smiled back. He took the proffered bottle warmed by the weather and tugged his husband into a proper kiss, matching rings glinting in the dying sunlight.

#bluefaewren #replies #parent trap au #attempting to write tag

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honeyhan-123 · 4 years ago

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The Monster In Plain Sight

Summary: Steve’s been slowly biding his time, playing the role of the perfect Captain America, but now he’s sick of playing and he’s going to take what he wants.

Warnings: Non-con, Dark! Steve, Steve is a serial rapist, somnophilia, forced exhibitionism, breeding kink, use of the word Daddy. If any of these makes you uncomfortable please do not read.

Word Count: 2.1k

AN: Ooop, I can’t believe I’m actually posting for the first time in nearly three months. Please be gentle <3

Also I would like to thank everyone on the dark group chat for encouraging me to keep on going with this idea. It didn’t quite turn out as dark as I thought it would but you guys gave me the incentive to keep on going so thank you <3

My Masterlist

He was hard. Achingly hard. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt like this, this desperate for release but he knew he had to take his time. He had to relish in every single second he could get. He doubted he would get another chance and so he had to make this one count.

The sleeping pills he had slipped into your wine at dinner were obviously working as you barely twitched as he slid your bedroom door open. It had almost been too easy to get his way. All he had to do was move in next door and play his usual role. No one would ever suspect The Captain America of the sinful acts that he was about to do, that he had done numerous times.

But even as he watched you sleep, he knew something about this time was different. He wasn’t quite sure what it was. Maybe it was because unlike his usual victims he had actually made contact with you. He had never been so bold before. Usually there was always a camera lens separating him from his victims. But not this time. Not with you.

He slithered over to the vanity opposite your bed, setting up his tripod with hasty fingers. He double checked the view point, making sure that the entire bed was in frame. He knew he wouldn’t forget a moment of what was about to happen but still, he wanted the momentos. The physical reminders. He pulled the sheets back from your unconscious body and relished in the way your nipples hardened at once as they met the cool night air.

It was only at times like this when he could stop acting. When he could truly be himself. For these brief hours he could be who he was, not who the world thought him to be.

He slid one hand up underneath the silk nighty you wore and cupped your tit as his other hand dipped into his already open pants. It was a relief to feel the cool breeze on his hot pulsating length and even better when he grabbed one of your hands and wrapped your fingers around it. Slowly he moved your hand up and down, a low groan tumbling from his lips. Your dainty fingers felt amazing wrapped around him, far better than his own, but he longed for more.

With a final tweak of your nipples, he let his hand slide town along your stomach and towards the lace that covered your mound. He cupped it through the scanty material, pushing the fabric into your lips as he felt you up. He couldn’t wait to be inside you, to have you wrapped around him like a vice.

Getting you out of the nighty without jostling your body too much was a little difficult. Perhaps he should have cut it open, that would have fitted better with his plan should you awake. Ridding you of your panties was far easier and the sight that met him was beautiful.

Sure he had camped out on your fire escape multiple times, watching as you dressed or prepared for a shower. But even then you had always been quick to recover yourself, as if you knew he was outside, watching with a hand wrapped around himself. Now however, he had you exactly as he wanted and he could take as long as he needed.

Whipping out his phone, he made sure to capture all your best angles. He wanted your body to be immortalised forever so desperately that he even risked turning the flash on. He didn’t want to miss a single curve. When he felt as though he had enough pictures to last a lifetime, he moved onto stage two and trailed a hand up your calf.

He kept his touch light for the most part until he reached in between your thighs. Steve couldn’t help the guttural sound that came out of his mouth as he parted your thighs, showing off the wetness that drenched your pussy lips. He had barely touched you and yet you were practically soaking the sheets. You must need it bad and who was he to refuse a woman in need?

He wondered briefly what was going through your mind as he played with your slick. Were you dreaming of him? Of him doing these things to you? Of him making your body feel this way?

He sure hoped so.

He wanted you to know it was him. That he had crept in here after dark and filmed himself while he took you however he saw fit.

Deep down he knew he could never allow that to happen. That you could never know. It would be a PR nightmare and his days of taking whatever he wanted would be over. The only reconciliation in his mind was that if everything went according to plan, maybe this wouldn’t have to be a one off like all the others. Maybe he would purposely wake you up? He could make it seem like whoever had done those depraved things to your body had got away and it would only be natural that you would seek comfort with him, your supposed hero.

A melodic whimper filled his ears as he swirled a finger around your bundle of nerves, pulling him back into the moment. Even unconscious you were so reactive. So desperate. His nimble fingers faced no resistance as he pushed inside, swirling them along your inner walls.

Steve doubted that you needed any more work up before he satisfied himself. You were just that needy. So without a moment's hesitation, he pulled his fingers from you and licked them clean.

You tasted so sweet, just like he knew you would. A part of him wanted to bury his face between your thighs and stay like that forever but the aching in his cock reminded him of why he was really here. He needed to fuck.

It had been far too long since his last time, a month, maybe more. He had spent so much time following your every step that he hadn’t gotten the chance to find anyone to satiate his needs. Plus, the last time he had it had been a little disappointing if he was being honest with himself. He had cummed, multiple times but instead of the usual calmness and serenity that filled him after a session, he just felt hollow and empty.

He had known it was because she wasn’t you. Her pleas for him to stop were wrong, far too shrill for your sweet voice. He ached to hear you plead with him to stop, to hear to cry out for help. His gut twisted in the best way just imagining it but he would have to content himself with just your body tonight.

He crawled onto the bed, spreading your thighs with his hips as he lined himself up at your entrance. He paused, just briefly to look over at the camera, giving his future self a devious smirk before casting his eyes back to your face. He didn’t want to miss any of your body’s reactions to him.

He felt like he was coming home as he slid inside, forcing his entire length into your tight channel. Your warm velvet walls gripping him like a vice. It was nice. So nice that he just wanted to stay here, his cock buried deep inside of you for all of time.

‘Fuck baby, you’re griping me so tight.’ He couldn’t help the words as they fell from his lips and he hoped that you would register them, at least subconsciously.

Without any more hesitation he pulled back out, leaving just the tip before slamming all the way back home. Perhaps he wasn’t being as careful as he should have due to the circumstances but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He just wanted to mark you as his and if you felt him in the morning, even better.

His pace was punishing as he thrusted his hips wildly, his hands groping both your tits. He toyed with the pert buds as your walls fluttered around him, a soft and delicate moan falling from your lips. The sound made him grateful he had invested in the extra strength microphone for the camera. He didn’t want to miss a thing.

‘You’re just so desperate aren’t you baby? You just need it so bad. Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna give it to you, just how you want it.’ He pushed your legs up, over his shoulders as he pushed even deeper inside of you. He could see the faint bulge of himself inside of you with every thrust and he imagined it going straight into your womb. The idea of his seed taking root inside of you did things to Steve that he had never known possible and suddenly he wanted it. He wanted it all.

He had always made sure to pull out because any child would be able to be traced back to him but the idea of you, round and full with his child… It was too good a vision to pass up.

His cock throbbed in need. The need to feel your velvety walls squeeze him, the need to fill you to the brim. His hand dropped down to where your bodies were connected, finding your little bud with ease. He swirled his finger in your slick and relished in the corresponding moan that came out of your lips.

‘C’mon baby, I know you wanna cum for me. I know you wanna be a good girl for me.’ His voice was throaty as he whispered into your ear, his ministrations on your clit never ceasing. He felt the familiar squeeze of velvety walls and he knew you were close.

‘That’s it baby, be a good girl for Daddy. Cum for me baby. Cum on Daddy’s big thick cock.’ He knew his words had taken affect as almost immediately he felt the pulsating of your walls, gripping him tight as you came. The sound of your pleasure was almost drowned out by his own low groan. ‘Fuck baby, milking me so tight. Fuck, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum inside you, gonna fill you with my seed. You want that don’t you? You need it.’

Steve could barely control himself as he felt his balls pull up, his seed spilling inside of you in hot spurts. He allowed your legs to fall down his shoulders as he collapsed on top of you, trying to catch his breath.

‘Fuck baby, that was so good, so fucking good.’ His words were slurred, his heart still racing inside his chest. He felt the familiar pull in his gut as he started to harden again and he was about to start taking you again when he heard a soft mumble get caught in your throat.

He froze, still completely encased in you, unsure of what to do. If you opened your eyes you would know immediately what had happened and he probably wouldn’t get a second chance without resorting to drastic measures.

A moment passed, and then two and your eyes still remained firmly shut and Steve let out a sigh of relief. Perhaps he shouldn’t go for round two right now. There was always tomorrow night, and the next night and the next. He could hold back for now.

Slowly he pulled his aching cock from you, watching in awe as a little of his cum seeped from your swollen lips. He gently scooped it up before pushing his fingers back inside. He didn’t want a drop to go to waste.

He pulled the camera off the tripod and carried back to the bed, giving your body a loving once over with the lens before putting himself back into frame as he knelt by your head. ‘Y/N L/N, twenty-first of September. Rating, ten out of ten. I will be coming back for seconds.’ With one last pan down your body, focussing on your cum soaked lips, he started getting redressed. He hated to leave you, but he knew he must. You couldn’t know that it was him doing these sinful acts with you, not if he wanted more.

He grabbed the notebook on your bedside table and turning to a new page he began to write with his non-dominant hand.

Thank you so much for last night baby. I can’t wait to see you again.

He placed the note on your pillow and pushed his lips against yours, sweeping his tongue around your entire mouth and drinking in your taste. It was with extreme regret that he left, but he knew he would be seeing you in a couple of hours. He would make sure he was the first person to see you in the morning. He would hold you in his arms and comfort you as you asked him for help, and he would give it to you.

And so much more.

Tags will be added in a reblog

Part Two

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Thanks for reading <3

#steve rogers #dark Steve #steve rogers x reader #captain america #marvel #dark!Steve #dark! captain america #non-con #somnophilia

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fanficsandthings · 3 years ago

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Through the Years, Ch. 7

A George Weasley Fanfiction

A George Weasley x Slytherin reader story.

Each chapter shares events in one year of George and reader’s life together.

Word Count: 6.1k

Author’s note: i know i’m like 3 months late on posting this chapter, but i promise i haven't abandoned this fic.

Year 1, Year 2, Year 3, Year 4, Year 5, Year 6

Year 6, Part 2: Fireworks

The heavy rain soaked through your clothes as you made your way into King’s Cross. It had been raining hard since early that morning, and the heavy gloom that hung over London was starting to take hold in your chest. The events of two weeks prior were impossible to purge from your mind, and on days like this the memories slowly crept their way forward. You swore that green skull could illuminate the sky again at any moment, so instead, you forced yourself to think about other things.

You uncle and dad had been talking for weeks about an event happening at Hogwarts this year, but they wouldn’t give anything away. All you knew was that you needed a fancy dress, which you bought a week ago at a second hand store. It now sat in the bottom of your trunk, its intended use unknown to you for now.

You no longer needed the motivation to run through the brick wall that separated platforms 9 and 10, like you did in your first year. You and your father casually waited by the wall, wringing the water from your clothes, as you watched the muggles pass by. When all was clear, you casually leaned against it, disappearing suddenly to anyone who might’ve cared to notice.

The steam from the scarlet coloured engine filled the platform, the people rushing about looking more like ghosts than corporeal beings. You searched briefly for a family of redheads, but quickly gave up and turned your attention to the items you had brought with you.

You checked quickly on Minnie, whose carrier was concealed under your rain jacket on top of your trunk. She was dry, just a little perturbed at all the movement happening on the trip here.

“You packed the camcorder, right?” your father asked. “And the extra tapes?”

“Yes,” you told him, “they were the first things I packed.”

“And you’re sure you know how to use it?”

“Yes, I’m pretty sure we went over it about 100 times.”

“I just don’t want you to get there and then not be able to capture anything,” he said, looking around at the people on the platform. He lowered his voice a bit to speak the next part. “It’s going to be a very fun year. I don’t want you to forget any of it.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “Will you please stop being so secretive, and tell me what’s going on?”

“I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough,” he told you.

You were about to protest and beg for more information when three more people came through the platform portal. Ron, Hermione, and Harry appeared before you, squinting through the steam.

“Oh, look!” your dad cut you off, ignoring the annoyed look on your face. “Friends! Now, go get on the train with them. I might see you sooner than you think.”

You said a very quick goodbye before turning to the three newcomers. They were still looking through the steam, trying to orientate themselves before heading to the train. You snuck up as quietly as your trunk would allow, thankful that the train engine was letting off some noise.

“What’re you looking for?” you shouted, right in between Ron and Harry’s heads. It caused all three of them to jump; the owls in the cages they were holding hooted frantically as they got tossed around.

“Please don’t do that,” Hermione voiced as she clutched her chest.

“Sorry,” you said, smiling, “I couldn’t resist.” You turned your head to look at the brick wall briefly. “Where is..”

“Your boyfriend?” Ron butt in. He turned to Harry and made a fake gagging noise. Harry let out a laugh, amused at his friend’s actions.

“Right behind you,” a familiar voice said. You turned to see Charlie, Fred, and George. George was smiling brightly at you. “We just passed your dad on the other side of the barrier.”

“Charlie!” you exclaimed, giving him a quick hug. “I expected you to be back in Romania by now.”

“Do we even exist?” George whispered to Fred.

“Apparently not when Charlie’s around,” Fred answered.

You rolled your eyes as you turned to the twins. “I’m gonna see you two constantly for the next 10 months. I rarely see Charlie.”

“I took extended time off,” Charlie said, answering your question, “because I’ll be working a little extra in a couple of months.”

Ginny, Bill, and Mrs. Wealsey made their way through the wall behind the twins.

“Hello,” Mrs. Weasley greeted upon seeing you.

“Molly, it’s so good to see you. I was a little disappointed that I didn't get to see you at the Quidditch Cup,” you told her, giving her a hug.

“Quidditch isn’t really my thing, dear,” she informed you. “But I might get to see you all again soon.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” you asked.

“It’s nothing,” she said, pushing you back towards Fred and George.

“We should get going,” you said to the twins. “We need to find Lee and seats”

The twins said goodbye to their family, and you all headed off through the steam towards the train. You found Lee, who had already boarded and was saving a compartment for the three of you. You stuffed your trunks above the seats and put Millie’s carrier in the seat next to the door.

It was a weird feeling, purposefully sitting so close to George on the train; him next to the window and your head leaning on his shoulder so you could watch the countryside pass by. Really, it’s not like much had changed from being just friends to dating. You had always sat close to each other before, even holding hands when the situation allowed for it. Something seemed to change over the last couple months, though, and now you felt more comfortable than ever resting your head against George.

Maybe it was the fact that you could hold hands now without people whispering in the background and speculating about you. Or the fact that you could run your hands through his hair, which he had let grow a little longer over the summer, and not be worried about accidentally looking into his brown eyes and having to hide your embarrassment over the matter. You could freely count the freckles splattered across his face and name the constellations you made in them. Freckles that would always remind you of the falling snow on the night you first kissed.

At some point, you let Minnie out of her carrier, letting her roam freely around the compartment, careful to make sure the door was securely closed. She eventually found a comfy stop on the seat between Fred and Lee. You watched as she curled up into a ball, her tail carefully covering her eyes, as if to block out any light.

As the train rolled on and the rain outside got heavier, the windows fogged up, making it impossible to see outside. You turned your full attention to the conversation happening. Lee was talking about what he did over break, and brought up the Quidditch World Cup.

Your eyes moved briefly to the window, thinking you might see the bright green light shining through the rain. George saw your movement and squeezed your hand in reassurance, a small smile on his face. You smiled back at him, telling him that you’d be alright.

Lee mentioned that his father had been cheated out of money over a bet he made with Ludo Bagman at the Cup.

“That dirty little cheat!” Fred yelled at the mention of Bagman’s name, causing Minnie to startle beside him.

“He took our money, too,” George added on. “He paid us back in leprechaun gold.”

“That’s exactly what he did to my dad,” Lee said.

“You bet all the money you had saved, didn’t you?” you asked Fred and George.

“Yeah,” Fred sighed.

“We’ll have to find another way to open the shop now,” George said.

“I still have some money saved up,” you told them. “About 20 Galleons when converted from muggle money. It’s not much but maybe we could find something to invest it in.”

“We couldn’t ask you to give us your money,” Fred said.

“Yeah, I’m sure there’s other things you could use that money for, right? ” George inquired.

“Not really,” you told them. “I’ve always planned to help you with Weasley Wizard Wheezes one way or another. Whether that be through money or inventing inventory.”

“Oh,” George said rather quietly beside you. “Thank you.”

You leaned up and gave him a small kiss on the cheek. “Anything for you, Georgie.”

“And you know I’m always here to test out products,” Lee chimed in.

“Oh, speaking of which,” you voiced, “did you finish those Canary Creams in the last two weeks?”

“Not quite,” George told you. “There’s still some kinks to work out, but give us a few weeks and some of Snape’s potion supplies and we’ll get them done.”

“But!” Fred said, pulling a small, wrapped treat out of his pocket. “We did nail down the yellow hair color.”

“Now we have all the house colors down,” George finished.

“And I think we should take advantage of that,” you said with a grin. You grabbed the sweet from Fred’s hand. “This one’s yellow?” He nodded. “And you guys still have a beef against Cedric for winning the quidditch match last year?”

“We should’ve gotten a rematch,” all three of them said in unison.

“I know, I know,” you said, faking sympathy.

The rest of the train ride was spent slipping sweets into other student’s train compartments and hiding in the hallway until you heard a couple screams. Cedric didn’t really seem to mind too much; being more embarrassed of the attention his friends were giving him because of it, opposed to being mad. You did manage to slip a pink one into Draco’s compartment, but one of his oversized bodyguards ended up eating it instead.

You found Adrian Pucey, who was trying to rekindle your friendship a little bit. He had written to you over the summer a few times. You gave him a blue haired sweet just because you wanted to see if the color would look good on him. It really didn’t, as the Ravenclaw blue didn’t mix with his complexion very well. You made him promise to sit next to you at the welcome feast, and you’d reverse the effects then.

Overall, you were very happy to be going back to Hogwarts where you’d be able to hang out with your friends again.

-----------------

The term seemed to pass too quickly with all the Tournament excitement going on. You had been concerned for Harry ever since his name was pulled out of that blasted goblet, but ever since he won the first task, he seemed to be in a much better mood.

You had snuck out of the castle the night before the first task with Fred and George to meet up with Charlie. He had excitedly shown you the dragons they had brought from Romania, their fiery breaths keeping you warm in the cool November air. You had never seen creatures like this upclose before, and they intrigued you enough to think for just a moment that maybe you wouldn’t mind working in Romania with Charlie.

A month after that, you found Hogwarts covered in snow, the winter chill finally settling in the castle corridors. Fireplaces blazed in every room, warming you ever so slightly as you sat by them. The fireplace in your dorm room did little to help fight the cold of the Black Lake. Again, just like last year, you spent most of your nights in the Gryffindor common room, curled up next to George by their roaring fire.

Minnie took to spending her nights in George’s room. She seemed to be making friends with Crookshanks, as you would sometimes find them cuddled together in the common room.

At times you felt bad for the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students. Their carriage and ship didn’t seem like the warmest of homes. You’d look across the school grounds and see them covered in ice and snow, and it would send a shiver down your spine every time.

Christmas Eve came, and the entire school was filled with excitement over the Yule Ball the next day. You were excited too, but there was one more thing you needed to do before that day came.

You had told George to meet you in the Astronomy tower in his pajamas at 10pm on Christmas Eve, a surprise all planned out in your head. You had stolen the radio from the Slytherin common room for the night. It had taken you and Adrian over a week to figure out how to get muggle radio stations to play on it, but eventually you got past all the magical interference and were able to listen to muggle music for the first time in almost four months. It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy The Weird Sisters, but sometimes you just missed the music your mum would listen to at home.

You set up your camcorder in one corner of the tower by the stairs, getting as much of the room in frame as you could. With no one else in the room to film, it would be the best shot you could get with the camera.

You met George at the base of the tower five minutes before 10, confusion etched on his face.

“I see you wore the pajamas with a little lion embroidered on them,” you teased him, reaching for his hand. “My cute little Gryffindor.”

He blushed at your words, but he took your hand nonetheless and let you lead him up the stairs.

“You’re literally wearing the same ones but with a snake embroidered,” George said.

“Hey, your mum made them, and I love them,” you told him. You squeezed his hand as you both laughed.

Music from the radio played softly from the top of the tower, a song that neither of you had heard before. When you reached the top of the stairs, you paused briefly to press the record button on the camera. This caused a confused look to make its way onto George’s face, but you reassured him that nothing harmful was going to happen.

You pulled him to the middle of the room, the chill from the winter night just barely reaching you. Pulling him close to you, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. George instinctively put his arms around your waste. You started to sway to the slow song coming from the radio.

“We haven’t been up here in a while,” George whispered.

“Not since fourth year when we flew right into the middle of Professor Sinistra’s nighttime class,” you said, laughing.

“Hey, we both expected her to have a midnight class that night,” George said, “not an 8pm class.”

“I didn’t even mind the detention we got from it,” you told him. “I was just happy that I beat you in the race up here.”

“I remember you cheating to beat me up here,” George said, wrinkling up his nose to tease you. “You and your old money Malfoy broom nearly knocked me into the castle wall.”

“All’s fair in love and war, Georgie,” you said. “I was just using the speed that broom gives me to its full potential.”

“If I didn’t love you so much, I’d still be mad about it.” He leaned down to kiss you on the forehead. “I still can’t believe you finally let me kiss you a year ago now.”

“You can thank Charlie for that actually. He gave me a little pep talk before I came outside that night.” You rested your head against his chest, listening to him hum along to the music. “Do you know this song?”

“I’ve heard you play it before while you were at my house. I quite like it.”

You pulled yourself as close to George as possible, trying to absorb his body heat. You hadn’t really thought about the open balcony and the winter weather when you planned this out. You leaned against him and swayed with the song, only really listening to his heartbeat through his chest. When the song was over and a more upbeat one came on, you pulled away just enough to look at his face.

“Do you think Dumbledore really got The Weird Sisters to play tomorrow night,” you asked.

“I hope so,” he said with a small laugh. “It’s all everyone’s been talking about the past few days.”

“Speaking of the ball,” you started, “Did Fred ever ask that girl he likes to go with him?”

“He asked Angelina a few days ago,” George told you. You wrinkled up your face in confusion. “What? They’re going as friends.”

“But what about that Hufflepuff girl that he talks about constantly?” you asked. “I expected him to ask her, and I thought Lee and Angelina would go together.”

“Lee’s going with a Ravenclaw fifth year, actually,” he informed you. “One of Cho Chang’s friends. Cedric actually set them up.” He seemed to have a hard time admitting that Cedric could do something nice for someone. George and Fred really held a grudge when it came to quidditch.

“Cedric’s a good person, you know?” you said. “He wanted to have that rematch. But back to Fred; why is he being an idiot about his crush?”

“Because he is an idiot in general,” George said laughing. “He asked Angie just to prove to Ron that he had a date. He didn’t think it through.”

You let out a sigh. “He’ll never learn.”

The next song started with a familiar tune. “George, I think you’ll love this one!”

You pulled away from him and grabbed his hand. There was no rhythm to your dancing, but it was fun nonetheless. George left all his worries behind and danced with you, not caring that you two definitely looked like idiots. He did really like the song that was playing, and he enjoyed it even more knowing that you loved it.

You turned your camcorder off after that song, saving room on the tape for the next night too. You walked with George to the balcony, braving the cold to look over the snow covered grounds. Hogwarts really did look beautiful at this time of night. The moon reflected off the white snow and shone brightly over the Black Lake. The ship and the carriage looked like mere children’s toys from this far away.

You rested your head against George’s shoulder as you both leaned against the railing. “Thank you, George.”

“For what?” he asked.

“For being my best friend, I guess,” you said. “It means a lot to me to have someone like you in my life.”

“I’m glad I have you too,” He kissed the top of your head.

You moved your head to kiss him properly, his body heat warming your face as you leaned in. The smell of potions clung to his skin, as he had been working on new products the entire last week. You caught the scent of a rather sweet one, and breathed in deeply. You pulled away reluctantly, but the cold was getting to you and you needed to head inside.

George picked up the camera as you grabbed the radio, turning it off. You walked quietly down the stairs, hoping not to run into anyone at the bottom. He offered to walk you to your dorm, but you knew that Gryffindor tower was a lot closer than the dungeons, so you walked him there.

“Keep the camera for tomorrow,” you told him. “Record whatever mischief you get up to in the morning and then put it in the Great Hall.”

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow night.” He leaned in for one more kiss. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

You hurried off down the hall as he climbed through the portrait hole. Sneaking down to the dungeons at this hour required a bit of stealth and luck, but you had done it enough to basically know the patrol schedules. You made it to the common room after only one near run in with a teacher, but you ducked behind a statue, just barely avoiding them.

There were a few students left in the common room, so you casually put the radio back in its spot on the table. Hopefully no one had missed it too much.

You made your way to your dorm room, opening the door quietly to not wake your roommates. The last embers of the fire were still burning in the fireplace, and they gave you just enough light to be able to see your way to your bed. The light from the moon didn’t reach this deep into the Black Lake when there was a layer of ice on top of it, so your windows remained pitch black.

You laid in bed, pulling the quilt from last Christmas as close to you as you could. You breathed in the earthy smell and let out a content sigh. Sleep found you easily that night, and your mind raced with dreams of what tomorrow might be like.

-----------------------------

The buzz and excitement in the air was contagious as everyone got ready before the ball. You had spent the morning in the common room with Adrian, trying to get him to tell you who he was going with, but he refused, saying that you’d find out in a few hours anyway.

“Why won’t you just tell me?” you asked, leaning forward and narrowing your eyes at him.

“Why does it matter so much?” he asked in return, ignoring the look you were giving him.

“Because I want a picture of us and our dates,” you said, “and if I don’t know who your date is, then I can’t force them to take the picture.”

“I promise you’ll get your picture,” he said. “I’m meeting up with him in front--”

You nearly sprang to your feet, but kept yourself in your chair when you saw the look of embarrassment on his face.

“So it’s not the seventh year Ravenclaw girl that has a crush on you,” you said, putting your hands over your mouth to think a bit. “I really thought it was her.”

Adrian looked flustered, his cheeks turning red. “What? No, no, she doesn’t have a crush on me.”

“She does,” you told him bluntly. “She asked me if you had a date about two weeks ago. I told her yes, but seeing as you won’t tell me who, I couldn’t give her more information.”

Adrian sank back into the couch, wishing this conversation would end. You looked at him, still thinking about who he could be going with.

“The Beauxbatons boy who wouldn’t stop staring at you on their first night here?” you pondered, but he remained quiet. “The fifth year Hufflepuff who ran into you in the hall last month? He’s cute and rather shy. I remember him apologizing profusely. I noticed him ducking his head away from you when we’d pass him in the hall after that.”

You watched him for a reaction that would give you a yes or no answer, but all you noticed was his face getting redder. Adrian never really talked about crushes and who he liked. This conversation about people who maybe liked him seemed to be a little much for him.

“Alright, one more guess,” you said, “and then I promise I’ll drop it until tonight.” He looked at you out of the corner of his eye. You took it as a sign to go on. “It’s not one of your dorm mates, is it? They’re rather all kinda assholes.”

You finally got a laugh out of him at that. “Absolutely not. I know them all way too well to ever want to go on a date with any of them.”

“Good, just checking to make sure you were still sane,” you said, standing up. “I’ll see you in a bit. Meet back here before we head up?” Adrian gave a small nod as you headed towards your dorm.

You got ready while the rest of your roommates chatted around you. The dress you had picked out just before the school year started hung from a hanger on your four poster bed. The purple fabric of it was accented nicely by some small gold details. You had added a little bit of magic to it over the past few months, making it more your own, rather than just a second hand find.

You found Adrian a few hours later, sitting in the same spot you had left him; his casual clothes now swapped out for dress robes, and his hair neatly styled.

“You look nice,” you told him, causing him to look up.

“Thanks.” He stood up, scratching the back of his neck. He looked at you, taking in your dress. “You look great. Did you get the sparks to work?”

“Yes!” you said excitedly, looking down at the gold details. “Technically not sparks, but you’ll see. Wait till George can see them too. Can you carry this?”

You handed him your disposable camera, and he quickly put it in his pocket. He held out his arm, and you easily linked yours in it. You headed out of the common room, ready to meet up with your dates.

Walking up the stairs from the dungeons, the first person you saw standing in front of the Great Hall was Ron in his interesting dress robes. He was staring angrily at two people as they walked into the hall. It took a second to realize the girl was Hermione, having never seen her with her hair done like that before. You recognized the boy as Viktor Krum when he turned to greet one of his friends as he walked past them.

Viktor’s friend turned in your direction, and his face lit up with a smile as he saw you and Adrian. You turned to Adrian, who was smiling just as brightly back at the Durmstrang boy.

“A Durmstrang boy?” you whispered to Adrian as you made your way over to him. The boy was tall, at least a few inches taller than Adrian, and his long dark hair hung to his shoulders. When he reached the two of you, he turned his attention to you and took your hand, kissing it softly. His green eyes looked into yours briefly.

“Adrian has talked a lot about you,” the boy said, dropping your hand. He looked back over at Adrian, the softest expression on both of their faces.

“This is Georgi,” Adrian introduced you. You looked at him, trying to hide your expression of slight shock.

This is exactly why he wouldn’t tell you the name of his date. He knew you would tease him about going to the ball with a boy who shared a name so similar to your boyfriend. In all honesty though, the two boys were almost nothing alike. Georgi seemed a little more subdued and quiet, opposed to George who, though quieter than his brother, was still too loud for his own good.

While making polite conversation with Adrian and his date, you were also trying to find the twins in the crowd of people. You noticed them coming down the stairs with Lee and Angelina, Lee soon hurrying off to find his date.

You nudged Adrian in the side and gestured towards the twins. “I’ll be right back.” He nodded at you, and you set off through the crowd.

“George!” you called as you ran up and hugged him. He and Fred were wearing matching outfits, probably passed down from their uncles to them.

“Hello.” George pulled you back from the hug, looking at you fully. “You’re beautiful.”

You ignored his statement, trying to hide the heat rising on your face. “Come on, I want you to meet Adrian’s date.” You looked at Fred and Angelina. “You too. I want a picture.” You pulled George’s hand, leading the group back through the crowd.

“You put the camcorder in the Great Hall, right?” you said over your shoulder.

“Yeah,” George confirmed. “About an hour ago. You’ll just need to hit record.”

Meeting up with Adrian again, you gestured to George, introducing him to the Durmstrang boy. “George, this is Georgi. Georgi, George. My boyfriend.”

They stared at each other for half a second before Fred butted in.

“Well, isn’t that fun,” he said with a grin.

You just grinned at Adrian, a smug look on your face.

You introduced Fred and Angelina and chatted for a bit before pulling another student over, who you knew was muggleborn, to take a picture of the six of you. Adrian nudged you and pointed to your dress. You looked down at it before realizing what he was suggesting.

“Oh,” you said, catching the attention of the group. “I almost forgot. I added a little magic to my dress. Adrian, do you mind doing the honors?”

He pointed his wand at your dress, and a translucent, almost invisible smoke came out of the end. Tendrils of smoke reached out, attaching themselves to the center of each little gold detail and then disappearing into the dress. Each gold detail began to shake, as if filled with an immense energy. Suddenly, the details exploded across the dress, mimicking fireworks to the best of their ability. After a moment, they settled into their original shape.

The group was staring at you, transfixed on what had just happened.

“I’ve never seen a spell like that before,” Georgi finally said, a look of wonder on his face.

“That’s because Adrian and I invented it, just for this,” you told him. You smiled as you looked over at Adrian. “We’ve been working on spells and such all of term in our free time. So far we only got the radio to work, and now this. This one isn’t perfect though. The smoke isn’t supposed to be there; it’s supposed to just be an immediate effect.”

George could tell that you were rambling now. He could see that your ramblings were bringing your excitement over the fantastic job you did down into doubt about how it didn’t work exactly how you wanted it to. He reached out and grabbed your hand.

“It was beautiful,” he said. He looked into your eyes, trying to bring your attention to only him, trying to calm you down. “You know I love fireworks. Maybe they could be a part of the uniform at our shop.”

You smiled at him, giving a small laugh. “That would be wonderful.”

You turned back to the group and noticed Angelina standing by herself, Fred nowhere in sight. “Where’s Fred gone off to?”

“He said he needed to talk to someone,” Angelina said, pointing towards the stairs that led towards the kitchens.

You turned, expecting to find Fred putting a firecracker in someone's robes, but instead found him trying to get the attention of the Hufflepuff girl. She was standing close to another Durmstrang boy, but looked rather uncomfortable at the whole situation. She kept trying to scoot closer to Cedric, but every time she did, the Durmstrang boy would scoot with her. Cedric said something to her before he took Cho by the hand and led her into the Hall. Fred called her name again, but she continued to ignore him, instead saying something to her date before they too walked to the Hall.

“Why didn’t he just ask her?” Angelina asked beside you. “I would’ve been fine going with someone else.”

“Because he’s an idiot,” you said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“You’re not wrong,” Angelina agreed.

The entrance hall was getting emptier as everyone filed into the Great Hall. You took this as the cue to follow suit. You stood in the large crowd, pressing play on your camcorder as the school champions were ushered to the dance floor. The dancing started, and George almost immediately pulled you to the dance floor as more people joined in.

The night went by quickly, but you would always be able to watch it back thanks to your camcorder, and look at pictures that you took.

Your favorite picture by far was one of Adrian squished in a hug between the twins, their red hair and gold vests standing out extravagantly against his all black outfit. Adrian and the twins were still not the best of friends, but over the past few months they had all agreed to try to get along for your sake. The twins liked to show their progress through aggressive acts of friendliness.

The videos were another story. They showed the night in motion and sound, something you were eternally thankful for. You could never give enough thanks to your dad for buying the camcorder for you.

The video of the school champions dancing showed Hermione being the happiest you had ever seen her. It was quickly interrupted by you laughing as George pulled you onto the dance floor, followed by Fred grabbing Angelina to dance with him. It even caught a bit of McGonagall dancing with Dumbledore, a surprising sight, as you had thought you would never see either of them dancing in your life.

You caught a video of Percy, zoomed way in on his grumpy face as he watched his ex-girlfriend dancing with someone else. Penelope looked happy with the boy she was dancing with though. You knew in a few years, hopefully, Percy would be able to laugh at his emotions too.

You got Fred and George pulling Percy, Ron, and Harry out of their seats as The Weird Sisters started to play. Ginny joined their group to dance with her brothers; the three excited Weasleys trying their best to dance the grumpiness out of the others. You set the camera down on a table, facing the group and ran to grab Adrian and Georgi. Passing Angelina and Alicia on the way back, you told them to come with you too. Your large group now took up much of the dance floor, but no one seemed to mind as you all jumped around to the song the band was playing.

The next video had the band playing a slower song in the background. The camera just sitting on a table, having been accidentally turned on by someone. It showed the Hufflepuff girl sitting at a table with Percy. They were talking, but the music drowned out any words that they were saying. Percy looked a little happier than he did earlier. Fred came into frame, sitting next to Percy, but putting his whole attention on the girl. She said a few short words to him, but when it was obvious she didn’t want to talk, he got up and walked towards the camera. He must have noticed it was on, because he mumbled a few words at it before the video cut off.

There was a short video of you and Adrian walking outside in front of the castle, lights sparkling around you. George and Fred were a few paces ahead of you, talking about something you couldn’t hear. Georgi had offered to record for a bit, even though he wasn’t quite sure what he was doing. The video cut off abruptly when the camera was dropped.

The last video on the camera was George recording you as you were leaving the Hall for the night.

“How was your night,” he asked from behind the camera.

“I had a great night,” you told him, walking backwards. You were holding up your dress so you didn’t trip. “Better than some people.”

The camera panned over to Fred, who flicked it off. He had a smile on his face, though, so you knew he still had a wonderful time. George moved the camera to catch Angelina in frame.

“Did you still have a good time,” he asked her, “even though your date was kinda a drag?”

“I had a wonderful time,” Angelina said as she put her arms around Alicia and Katie, who were walking beside her. “I still had my best friends to lift the mood.”

“And what about you,” George turned so now he was walking backwards, camera pointed at Adrian and Georgi. They were walking hand in hand, Adrian’s head resting on Georgi’s shoulder.

“It was alright,” Adrian said, smiling up at his date. Georgi squeezed Adrian’s hand.

You had now reached the base of the stairs that led up to the Gryffindor common room. Everyone stopped walking to say their goodbyes.

“One more thing,” you said to the camera. “I wanna get my spell on record.” You grabbed out your wand and pointed it at your dress, setting the fireworks in motion.

“Beautiful, as always,” George hummed behind the camera. “I think this is where we part ways.” He took your hand in his. “Goodnight, love.”

“Goodnight.”

The video stopped as you leaned in to kiss him.

#george weasley #george weasley fanfic #george wealsey x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley x slytherin!reader #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #slytherin #slytherin reader #weasley twins #fred and george #fred and george weasley #george weasley fanfiction #through the years series #my writing

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deerixiie · 4 years ago

Text

24/7 ramen.

description: you are iwaizumi’s home; even if he is forced to take you to a ramen place at 2 in the morning.

pairing: iwaizumi x gen!reader

genre/warning: banter, fluff, literally just filler dialogue with an overarching plot, light mentions of violence

word count: 1.8k

a/n: this was inspired by some headcanons im going to post. oh and this is for @hajiimes... hehe <3

“I got into a fight.”

Iwaizumi paused, his phone hovering near his ear. He resisted the urge to let out a sharp laugh—of all the things, why did you have to get into a fight?—and slung his arm over his face. “And you lost?”

Iwaizumi could almost hear you pouting. “To be fair, they were-”

“But you lost.”

A pause. “Yeah.”

Iwaizumi dragged his hand across his face with a heavy sigh. “Why are you fighting people at,” he paused to squint at the digital clock on the dresser, “Two in the morning?”

“Ramen.”

“What?”

“Hot and spicy shrimp,” you said solemnly. “There was only one pack-”

“You’re aware we have finals tomorrow, right?”

“Exactly the reason why I wanted ramen.”

Iwaizumi sighed again. “Are you hurt?”

“Well, someone elbowed me in the eye-”

“The eye?”

“Yes the eye. I’m pretty sure it’s swollen, but other than that I’m perfectly fine.”

“Why do you sound so happy?” Iwaizumi asked, getting up to scour his closet for a hoodie. “You lost a fight over a pack of ramen.”

“Well technically, no one won the fight. We all got kicked out of the store. Poor guy didn’t even keep his ramen.”

“Which store?”

“Walmart.”

“You couldn’t have gone to a convenience store or something?” Iwaizumi pulled on the hoodie Oikawa sent him from Argentina and grabbed an old Godzilla hoodie from his closet.

“Haji, this is Socal, not Japan,” you condescended. Iwaizumi scoffed at how haughty you sounded. “I’m sure Socal has convenience stores,” he muttered.

“Well, Walmart was the closest.”

“You could’ve woken me up,” Iwaizumi grumbled, moving on to grab the keys off the drawer, “I would’ve taken you to a convenience store.”

“But you were sleeping.”

“So? You know how dangerous that was? I’d feel a little better if I was there.”

“Yeah, but I wanted ramen,” you sighed. “Anyway, can you pick me up, Haji? It’s getting cold.”

Iwaizumi shut the apartment door with a quiet click. “I’m leaving the apartment now.”

“That was fast.”

“Yeah, I had a feeling that you’d want me to pick you up.”

“Okay. Oh, and remember to drive on the right side of the road.”

“I know.”

“Are you sure? You almost drove into a tree last time.”

“Because I was tired.” Iwaizumi opened the door to the car, dropping the hoodie into the passenger’s seat. “Tired people don’t think straight.”

“Aren’t you tired right now?”

“No, I’ve been awake since you told me you got into a fight. You need to tell me what the hell actually happened there.”

“I told you, it was ramen,” you huffed. “There was one pack of spicy shrimp and three desperate college students in need of ramen.”

“So you fought for it.”

“I lunged for it, some other dude shoved me, I crashed into the third person, and then he was pushing them and I was on the floor and then someone’s elbow was in my eye and then the employee grabbed us and tossed us out.”

Iwaizumi took a moment to process your words. “You sound proud of yourself.”

“I’m not. I didn’t get the ramen.”

“No one got the ramen,” Iwaizumi deadpanned. “Isn’t that what you said?”

“I mean yeah, but now I can tell people I’ve been in a fight.”

“Why would you want to tell someone you’ve been in a fight?”

“I dunno,” you sighed. “I’m tired and hungry. Tired and hungry people say weird things.”

“Damn right.”

“That was an insult.”

“It was.”

“Ouch.”

Iwaizumi didn’t respond, lightly drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as he waited for the red light to turn green.

“My eye hurts,” you said suddenly, your voice crackling from the phone’s speaker.

Iwaizumi furrowed his eyebrows. “Does it hurt a lot?”

“No,” you decide. “Ramen would make it better.”

“So now I’m buying you ramen?”

“Yeah.”

“At 2 AM?”

“It’s 2:28 now.”

Iwaizumi scoffed.

“I found this ramen place that’s open,” you said. “24/7 Ramen. It’s 25 minutes from here.”

“Why is there a ramen place open for 24 hours?” he muttered, half to himself.

“It’s probably run by college students. That’s why the name is catchy too.”

“Catchy?”

“It sounds like a song. You know, 24 Karat Magic by Bruno Mars.”

“Never heard of it.”

“What?” Iwaizumi found himself flinching, despite the fact it was simply your voice coming from his phone’s speaker. “How have you been living in America for two years without ever hearing 24 Karat Magic? That song is a classic.”

“I think you’re forgetting you’re speaking to a guy born and raised in Japan.”

“Haji, you’ve been here for two years. That’s 24 months. 48 weeks. And a certain amount of days I’m too tired to calculate.”

Iwaizumi thought for a moment. “730.”

“730-” you paused. “How the hell did you calculate that so fast?”

“Dealing with stupid people makes you smarter, I guess.”

“No, ramen makes you smarter.” You sighed. “I really want ramen.”

“I heard.” Iwaizumi turned the steering wheel, bringing the car into the Walmart parking lot. “And I’m here now, so you can stop whining.”

“Oh, I see you. Do you see me?”

There was a figure sitting on the front curb, waving erratically in Iwaizumi’s direction. “I see an idiot waving at me like their life depends on it, so yes, I see you.”

“I think being around stupid people makes you grumpy,” you grumbled.

“No, having to pick my significant other up from Walmart at 2 in the morning makes me grumpy.”

You responded by scoffing and hanging up the phone. Seconds later, you were sliding into the passenger seat of the car. “Aw, did you bring a hoodie for me?” you asked, glancing down at the Godzilla hoodie that you almost sat down on.

Iwaizumi glanced over to you, raising an eyebrow. “Hello to you too.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned forward to press a quick kiss to Iwaizumi’s cheek. “Hi, I love you, thank you for picking me up. Happy now?”

“I’m ecstatic. Yes, that hoodie is for you.”

You smiled, pulling the hoodie on over your shirt and relaxing into the seat. Iwaizumi carefully looked over your face. The only noticeable injury was the ring of darkness around your eye—did they really elbow you that hard?—and a slight cut on your upper lip, but those would heal soon. He let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“What, is there something on my face?” you asked, reaching up to brush your fingers over your cheek.

“You have a black eye.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Damn. Is it bad?”

“No, not really.” He checked the dashboard for the time and slightly frowned. “Where’s the ramen place?”

24/7 Ramen was a small convenience store in between an optometrist and a cigarette shop. On the outside, it wasn’t much. The name of the store was illuminated in large flickering neon letters. The exterior brick walls of the store were dusty and crumbling with age and wore. The windows were covered with assorted posters and papers, some for missing children, upcoming movies, and advertisements for Japanese snacks.

“Oh, so this is like a Japanese convenience store then?” you asked, looking at one of the Japanese ads. “I guess you were right.”

“Told you.”

“Just come on and buy me my ramen.”

The door opened with a familiar chime that reminded Iwaizumi of warm yakisoba buns, tangled with the sight of preppy school uniforms, and of course, Oikawa Tooru. The layout of the store was straight out of Japan, overwhelming him with countless reels of tender highschool memories. If he closed his eyes he could see himself standing right there, bag under his arm, Oikawa at his shoulder.

“Feeling a little nostalgic, huh?”

His head whipped toward you standing behind him with an amused smile on your face. “This place does have a Japanese feel to it.” You raised your eyebrow in that insufferably adorable way of yours, and Iwaizumi found it hard to breathe.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets as a flush began to form on his cheeks. “Be quiet.”

You hummed but made no other comment, instead choosing to shoot him another knowing look that made his blood roar in his ears. You started moving through the store, picking cups of ramen off the shelves. He hovered behind you, still embarrassed about his nostalgic moment—was he that homesick?—occasionally picking up cups of ramen and examining them before placing them back onto the shelf.

After what seemed like ages, you presented your armful of ramen cups with a proud smile. “I’m done.”

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “I’m not buying you 15 cups of ramen.”

“But you promised-“

“Each one is like, 65 cents? I’ll buy you 5, max.”

“Why not more?”

“I’m just as broke as you are.”

You sighed in defeat. “Being broke in college sucks.”

“I told you we should’ve held off on getting a car.”

“But I wanted a car!”

“More than you want ramen?”

“That’s- that’s an unfair comparison!”

Iwaizumi continued to go back and forth with you, even as you paid for the ramen at the cash register. You were in the middle of a frantic explanation of why investing in a car was important in California when you finally made it outside.

The air was still and cool, save for the slight breeze that occasionally tangled in Iwaizumi’s spiky locks. The only sounds were the distant cars speeding across the road and the faint sound of crickets chirping, for you had both fallen silent after leaving the convenience store. Iwaizumi turned to look at you: one eye swollen, upper lip bleeding, a plastic bag full of convenience store ramen clutched tightly in your hand. He could see the fire in your eyes, that odd determination to make your own dreams a reality, no matter how fickle or ridiculous they were. It was similar to the drive he saw in Oikawa’s eyes, he realized. The reckless, worthless one that seemed to be a double-edged sword.

Maybe that’s why whenever he looked at you, he felt like he was at home.

“I love you, you know that?”

You cocked your head to the side and smiled slightly. “Where did that come from?”

He shrugged and stuffed his hands into his pockets again, turning away from your curious gaze. The corners of your mouth pulled up into a faint smile. Without warning, you turned Iwaizumi toward you with your finger and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. And then you were bounding off toward the car, the plastic bag jostling in your hand.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi called, starting after you. “Come back here so I can kiss you properly.”

“I want my ramen!” came your response from the car. “No kisses until I get my ramen!”

Iwaizumi chuckled softly. You were annoying and feisty, but you still managed to make him feel right at home.

taglist in reblog; please comment/reblog with comments in the tags or in the post if you enjoyed!! i love hearing your feedback :)

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi x gn reader #iwaizumi oneshots #iwaizumi scenarios #iwaizumi imagines #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gn!reader #haikyuu x gen!reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu #haikyuu writing #haikyuu oneshots #hq #hq writing #deerixiie #does anyone understand the 24 karat magic joke

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footballfanfictions · 3 years ago

Text

The thrill of the chase - Chapter Five

Pairings: Mason Mount/OC, Ben Chilwell/OC

Warnings: Smut (18+)

—————————————————————————————

Mason

I had watched Katie and Ben leave hand in hand, absolutely seething. I had this awful sickening feeling in my stomach that I couldn’t quite understand. All i knew for sure was that I didn’t trust Ben. I had known him before he arrived at Chelsea and we had played together for England./ He had always seem like quite a sound lad, but there was just something about him that I didn’t like.

Christina had whined at me all night about dancing with her and when I refused had gone off in a huff to dance with a group of other guys on the dancefloor, grinding against them provocatively, as if that would ever make me mad. I had been going off her for a long time now, only clinging on to the relationship because I was scared of being on my own.

My mind kept going back to Katie kissing Ben on the dancefloor. How he had held onto her, how she had run her hand through his hair. If I was honest with myself I knew why I didn’t like it. I didn’t like it because I wished that it were my hands on her.

I had quietly admired her from afar for the entire previous season since returning from my loan at Derby County. In that entire time she had barely even said a word to me and that only made the longing feeling worse if anything. I’ve always enjoyed the thrill of the chase.

I felt bad for silently celebrating the end of her long term relationship, which I found out about from one of the physios one day when casually asking why Katie looked so sad that day. She had always been quite a serious person fully invested in her job, but that day changed her and she had gone cold.

Now I was seeing her fire returning, and she was burning for Ben.

I thought all of these thoughts while Christina was on top of me, half heartedly grinding against me. She hated going on top, hated having sex with me in general really these days. I usually did all the work, taking all of my frustration out on her. But tonight she was drunk enough to do all the work, while I lay back against the pillows.

The only reason I was able to get hard and stay hard was because I was thinking about Katie.

Christina started to move her hips a little faster against me then and I momentarily snapped out of my day dream, grabbing her hips firmly. Then I put the situation out of my head and concentrated on the fantasy of Katie on top of me.

A few moments later I felt her tighten around me and started to thrust up to meet her hips,cursing quietly under my breath “f-fuck.. Katie…”

It took a second for me to realise what I had said, my eyes snapping open to meet Christina’s but she was already rolling off of me and getting out of the bed to shower like she did after every time we had sex, wanting to wash the memory of me off of her. She was entirely oblivious.

_______________________________________________________________

Katie

I woke up momentarily confused, the curtains still wide open from the day before allowed the sun to come streaming in and blinded me for a second.

My mouth felt uncomfortably dry and my head was slightly pounding.

Rolling over I knocked into the side of Ben’s sleeping body and the memory of the previous night came back to me.

I had slept with Ben, and we had barely even had a date. I scolded myself silently, wondering how I could be stupid enough to let a footballer sleep with me on the first night. I was probably one in a hundred girls that he had slept with early on and then never talked to again.

He stirred and slung his arm across my stomach, pulling me in close against his chest, he nuzzled his head against my neck. I tried really hard not to smile at the fact that he was laying here cuddling me rather than getting up and running away straight away.

“Stop fretting.” he mumbled quietly. His voice all low, sleepy and raspy sounding even more attractive than usual. “I’m not going anywhere…” he continued, now in a whisper, his lips moving to kiss my collarbone while his hand swept my hair out of the way.

I breathed out a deep sigh of relief and relaxed into his arms.

“Didn’t scare you away then?” I joked.

Disregarding the sex, this was the most intimate I had been with anyone since Rory. I tried not to show Ben how insecure I felt about being completely bare before him.

“No way” he smirked.

We were both silent for a minute, Ben was still holding me against him, his fingertips now trailing down my back. I was struggling to figure out what I should say to him now. Should I offer him some breakfast? Ask him to hang out with me today? It had been so long since I had brought someone home with me outside of a relationship that I had no idea what the post sex etiquette was.

“What time is it?” Ben asked, lifting his head to look at the display on my alarm clock sat on the bedside table.

I looked at it too, having to squint to read the display clearly due to the sunshine. “8.30”

He jolted slightly against me and then sat up. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry but there is somewhere that I need to be.” he pressed a quick kiss to my cheek but then offered no further explanation as he silently dressed.

I waited until his back was turned while he was putting his shoes and socks back on before I slipped out of the bed covers myself and threw a pair of shorts and a t shirt on to look half way to presentable to see him out.

Once we were both dressed he grabbed my hand and pulled me against him to give me a brief kiss.

“See you later then.” I said casually.

He smiled at me and squeezed my hand, letting me lead him to the front door.

“I’ll text you.” he said.

_________________________________________________________

Monday morning had rolled around and admittedly I had been disappointed not to hear from Ben, but presumed that he was probably just busy.

As usual I was busy following the weekend. Chelsea had played yesterday lunchtime and I had a folder full of matchday pictures to go through and edit to occupy my time.

By lunchtime I had barely made a dent in my work and decided that I would just eat lunch sat at my desk to try to get through a little bit more of it but Bri had other ideas, coming bounding into my office like Tigger from Winnie the Pooh with a massive grin on her face. She was so happy that it lifted my sour mood almost instantly.

“Katie! So sorry that I didn’t text you back on Friday. I knew you were out with the boys and didn’t want to disturb you, and well… me and Billy went on our date and ended up spending the whole weekend together!” she was still bouncing as she sat down on the spare office chair which nearly rolled away from the desk from the force.

“Woah slow down, all weekend?” I asked her, puzzled as I looked down at the team sheet on the desk in front of me. “Wasn’t he in the squad yesterday?”

“Oh yeah but he got me a ticket and I sat just behind the bench so that we could talk to each other. He didn’t get to play unfortunately but it was still nice to be there to support him.” she said, beaming before continuing “then he took me to the megastore and bought me a shirt with his name on the back for me to wear next time. Isn’t that just the cutest thing?”

“The cutest…” I said quietly, trying my absolute best not to sound bitter or jealous seeing as Ben had run off suddenly on Saturday morning and couldn’t even be bothered to send me a text, compared to Billy who couldn’t get enough of being with Bri. I tried to tell myself that Billy had been into her for years so was of course going to be putting in a lot of effort, where Ben and I had only just met. It would have been nice to have felt a bit more wanted though.

“Sooo… Billy told me that Ben was asking you out. Did you go?” she looked at me intently while asking the question and I knew then that she could tell that there was something wrong.

I told her everything, including what I knew about Ben’s ex and Jorginho and going to the nightclub with the boys, kissing Ben, Mason and his horrible girlfriend being weird, and then about sleeping with Ben and what had happened after.

“Oh…” she mumbled. “I thought that he was really into you. Billy said he’#s always talking about you and looking over at your office window when they’re training.”

I shook my head, trying not to feel pessimistic about the situation. It had only been two days and he could have genuinely been busy.

“I’m sure he will text or call, or even pop in here to see you.” she leant over the desk then and gave me a hug in the best way that she could with a desk in the way.

“Bri, you really like Billy now right? Not just to make you-know-who jealous?” I asked.

She laughed “Why would I want to make Voldermort jealous?”

I rolled my eyes at her and grinned “You know exactly who I meant.”

“He’s already forgotten.” she shrugged.

“Listen, I don’t think I can face going down for lunch could you bring me back a sandwich or something? I don’t really fancy being stared at. He has probably already told all of them how easy I was.”

Reluctantly she agrede to go without me but not without scolding me for thinking the way that I had, telling me that Ben wasn’t like that.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mason

“So, what happened with you and that girl?” Kai was asking Ben the question as we sat in a circle doing some stretches. We were right outside of Katie’s window and I had been trying really hard not to think about her with some success before Kai had brought her up.

Ben stayed quiet for a minute as the group pushed him for an answer. Tammy finally bluntly asking if Ben had slept with her.

I looked for any sign of embarrassment on his face but there was none as he smirked “It was even her idea, she took me back to her place and then she was all over me.”

I grit my teeth together, biting me tongue so as not to say anything I might later regret or that might make playing with him awkward. I didn’t like the way that he was talking about her. He shouldn’t be showing off for the rest of the lads like that, not if he really liked her. He could have just said that he had a good night and wouldn’t kiss and tell.

My only solace was that he wasn’t going into intimate detail. He wouldn’t ruin my fantasies about her that way.

“How did you leave things? You leaving the door open to hit that again?” Tammy was asking.

I looked up at her window then and could see her there, stood at the coffee machine. She looked tired and stressed, more so than she usually did on a Monday morning and my dislike of Ben grew that little bit stronger.

“The door is ajar. Just letting her cool off a bit before I go back to her. Don’t need her getting all clingy on me.”

I was only half listening to Ben, finding that not looking at him made it easier to pretend that I was fine and egging him on like all of the others.

Our coach Frank blew his whistle then and told us all to head inside for lunch and I hung back behind the rest of them as they all walked towards the doors to inside the complex.

I was last in line for food as a consequence of hanging back behind the others and realised that Katie’s friend was just ahead of me with Billy but no Katie.

“I need to take this back to Kate but I don’t want to miss out on time with you.” I heard her cooing to Billy who had the biggest grin on his face. It was nice to see him finally happy but a bit too sweet for me.

Interrupting them I offered to take the sandwich to Katie, saying that the table I was going to sit on was full anyway and I was planning on just grabbing one myself and heading for some physio.

Katie’s friend was slightly hesitant at first but her desire to be with Billy overruled that in the end and she handed the sandwich over to me.

I stood at her office door nervously for a minute before I even knocked.

She opened the door expecting her friend and was surprised to see me there.

“I uh- brought your sandwich…” I mumbled, passing it to her.

“Are you ok Mase? It’s not like you to be so quiet.”

I full on blushed at her calling me Mase and felt like a right idiot for doing so. It was a nickname that people called me affectionately and she had never been affectionate towards me.

“It’s just…” I started to speak but had no idea what excuse I was going to give. I couldn’t exactly tell her that I was jealous of Ben.

“Is it your girlfriend? She was um, nice?” she giggled, and I couldn’t think if I had ever heard her laugh before. It was infectious.

“If I’m honest I haven’t been invested in that relationship for a long time but I can’t bring myself to end it. I’ve always been in relationships. I’m not...I’m not sure I know how to be on my own you know?”

She gestured for me to sit down on one of the chairs and she perched on the end of her desk, taking a bite of her sandwich while she thought about what I said.

“I can understand that. I was in a long term relationship that ended last year and I thought we were going to be together forever so when it ended I had no idea how to be on my own again. I’m still not sure that I have it figured out now if I’m honest.” she shrugged. She was trying to seem casual about it but I saw straight through her. She was still hurting from that break up.

“You’re not on your own anymore though, you have Ben.” I said quietly. Although I didn’t really want to think about them together I wanted to see how she reacted to me asking about it. If her face lit up with happiness at just the mention of his name, I would know that any chance of me changing her mind about him and about me was absolutely dead.

She looked down at her feet and didn’t say anything.

“He’s not the best at communicating. Don’t give up on him yet.” Thinking back to what she had said to me not long ago about how privileged and big headed I had become, I decided in a split second that maybe I wouldn’t be good for her even if we could somehow date. Would I continue to get too big for my boots and end up pushing her away? By that time I would have burnt a lot of bridges and ruined a lot of professional and personal relationships and it didn’t feel worth the risk.

“You’ve changed your tune.” she said, obviously referring to me telling her that he wasn’t good for her.

I shrugged, standing up to leave. “He’s growing on me I guess.”

“Thanks for chatting Mase. Maybe you’re growing on me.” she smiled.

I had turned to the door, so she couldn’t tell how hard I was smiling at what she had said.

“See you later Katie.” I replied, trying to sound as casual as possible as my stomach did somersaults.

#ben chilwell #mason mount #football fanfiction #football imagines #football smut #football story

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thefactsofthematter · 3 years ago

Note

hi bestie <3 you said send in some requests, so i'm suggesting:

javid with, "it's not okay! you're not fine!"?

i hope you have a good day !!!

hi bestie <333 i had so much fun with this, i haven't done a short little fic in ages!! here's a 2.7k javid fic - a college au and a classic (emotional) hurt/comfort type deal, heavy on the comfort ;)

"Wanna come for dinner at my parents' house tonight?"

Davey is laying on Jack's couch after his last class of the day, since Jack's apartment is just off campus, and it's a ridiculously convenient place to go nap after a long day of school. He honestly spends more time here than at his own apartment that he shares with his sister, a short train ride away.

"I'd love to," Jack replies, his gaze still glued to his computer screen, "but I totally forgot I have an art history paper due at midnight, analyzing a painting, and I haven't started. It needs to be ten pages, and I don't even have an outline. I'm gonna sit here and write until my eyeballs fall out."

Davey laughs softly.

"That sucks. Do you at least have some research done?"

Jack turns to him with completely dead eyes.

"Not a single academic source."

Davey glances at the clock. Jack has seven hours to pull this off, which is doable, but... intense. It would've been a lot easier to spread it out over a few afternoons, and it'll be a painful squeeze to get ten comprehensible pages of writing done tonight. Jack can write decently fast, but his spelling and grammar are atrocious, so he'll have to factor in editing time too. Davey is not envious of these circumstances in the slightest.

"Shit. Good luck. That sounds awful, but I'm rooting for you. What's your prof's late assignment policy?"

Jack, entirely beaten down, leans forward to rest his forehead on his keyboard.

"He won't accept them past the due date without a good reason... which I don't have. I'm just an idiot and forgot to put it in my planner— thank god Romeo texted me today to ask if I was done."

Davey pushes himself up and walks over to where Jack is sitting at his little dining table, under the constantly-flickering fluorescent bulb. He wraps his arms around Jack's shoulders and kisses the back of his neck.

"You got this. I'll come back here after dinner and bring you leftovers, okay? My mom's gonna be sad you couldn't make it, so she'll totally pack up a plate for you."

"You don't have to come all the way here," Jack sighs. "Your place is closer to your parents, and this is out of your way— you have work in the morning anyways, so you should go home and go to bed. I'll be fine, I'll probably write faster alone anyways."

Davey kisses him again, this time leaning around to plant one on his cheek.

"If you're sure." Jack's plan is probably the smart move, since Davey's shifts at his stupid coffee shop job start ridiculously early, and coming here would mean staying up with Jack until he finishes, probably distracting him. "In that case, I'll see you tomorrow after work, and I'll bring the food then... keep me posted about the paper, text me when you finish. And make sure you eat something."

Jack turns back to look at him with a strained, stressed attempt at a smile.

"For sure. Go have a nice time with your family, and tell everyone I say hi."

"Aba, you're doing it wrong. You have to use your left arm."

It's getting late in the evening, dinner has been eaten, and Les is trying to coordinate the family to make a TikTok with him. It's not exactly going well.

"My left or your left?"

"It doesn't matter, we have the same left!"

Davey has thankfully been placed in the back row, both because he's tall and lanky, and because he's so uncoordinated that Mom used to make you wear one of those leash backpacks as a kid to keep you from wandering into traffic... which is true, but Davey isn't sure why Les even knows about that. He certainly wasn't around yet when that was the case, so he probably heard it from Sarah.

While Les tries once again to explain how this little dance is supposed to work, Davey's phone starts to buzz in his pocket. It's probably a spam call, but he's not particularly invested in the dance lesson so he pulls it out to check.

Incoming call: cowboy babyy 💖🤠

Davey frowns. Jack never calls him. It's always texts or voice memos, since he's got some kind of weird aversion to talking on the phone. If he's calling, it must be important.

"Hi babe," he says, pressing his phone to his ear and walking off to his old bedroom to get some quiet, while Les shouts at him in the background for not taking this seriously. "How's the homework going?"

Jack is quiet for a second too long as Davey toes the door shut.

"...Not great. I'm really frustrated." He pauses and sniffles a little, sounding almost like he's holding back tears. "I don't know why I called you while you're having a good time with your family, though. I shouldn't be bugging you."

"Hey," Davey breathes, "you're not bugging me at all, sweetheart. Is the paper not going well?"

"I just... I'm so bad at writing, and I don't know what I'm talking about, and I have no idea how I'm gonna get this done in time." His voice is shaking, and it's breaking Davey's heart a little. "I'm being dramatic, though. I just need to keep working on it."

Davey sits down on the edge of what's now a guest bed, his old outer space-themed comforter replaced with something more neutral.

"You're not dramatic, it's okay to be upset. Do you want me to come over and help?"

Jack's breath hitches softly, and it confirms that he's almost definitely crying.

"You don't have to, you're busy with your folks. I'm sorry for calling." He shudders a little as he must try to take a deep breath. "It's okay... I'm fine."

Davey sighs, almost exasperated with Jack's self-sacrificial sense of pride. He'll never ask for anything for himself, not wanting anyone to go out of their way for him, even when he seems to be having a panic attack of sorts.

"It's not okay; you're clearly not fine, Jackie," he replies. "We already ate, and I'm not busy. If you want me to come over, I'll be there... do you?"

Jack is quiet for a moment again, taking a deep, shaky breath.

"Yeah. I do."

Davey nods, though Jack can't see him.

"Okay. I want you to take a little break from writing until I get there, alright? Change into your pyjamas and have a glass of water. Try to relax a little."

"Okay... thanks Davey."

The call ends, and Davey rejoins his family while tucking his phone away in his pocket.

"I have to go." He kisses his mother on the head as he walks by. "Thanks for dinner, Ima."

"Is everything okay?" she asks, catching him gently by the elbow before he can get too far.

"Yeah..." he sighs. "Jack's just having a hard time with homework, I'm gonna go help him out."

His father ruffles his hair and gives him a quick hug.

"You're a good boy, David. Take him those leftovers— your mother's cooking can fix anything."

"For sure. I'll see you guys next weekend, and I'll try to bring Jack along then."

He waves goodbye to Sarah and Les, grabs the dish of food, and then sets off on a speed-walk to the nearest subway station.

Jack is sitting on the couch when he arrives, his knees pulled to his chest, looking very soft and cozy in pyjama pants and one of Davey's old hoodies from some baseball tournament. He's staring into space, and he hardly even moves to acknowledge Davey's presence when he walks in.

"Hey darling." Davey leaves the dish of food on the counter and crouches down in front of Jack to try and catch his eye-line. He carefully takes Jack's hands in his own. "Hanging in there?"

Jack finally looks at him and nods, but as he blinks, more tears slip out and roll down his cheeks.

"I'm only done two pages," he mumbles, practically whispering. "I don't know why it's so hard, but I just can't do it."

"Oh, Jackie..." Davey reaches up to wipe Jack's tears, cupping his face gently with both hands. "Hey, you still have three hours, right?" Jack nods. "That's lots of time. We're gonna figure this out... let's just sit here and calm down a little first. It's gonna be okay."

He climbs up onto the couch to pull Jack into a hug, and the moment he's settled, Jack wraps his arms around him and breaks, sobbing into his shoulder. Davey cards his fingers through his hair and rubs his back; he's never seen Jack this distraught, especially not over homework. There's a good chance the problem runs a lot deeper, and stressing over an assignment was simply the last straw.

"You're alright," Davey continues, since talking is what he does best, even in moments like this. Jack is shaking with the force of his tears, breathing so hard Davey worries he might hyperventilate. "Listen, it's just one assignment, my love... if you get a bad grade, or if we don't finish in time, we can deal with that. We'll hand in whatever we finish tonight, so at least you won't get a zero. Worst case scenario, you retake this class in the spring... even that doesn't sound so bad, does it? I know you could handle it, if that's what happens."

Jack nods a little, but his tears don't stop.

"I'm so tired of being stupid," he hiccups, after a long while. "I keep getting distracted, and I can't word things right, and I spell everything wrong, and- and maybe I should just drop out, because I'm clearly not meant to be doing this."

"Baby..." Davey sighs, giving him a gentle kiss on the temple. "You're so intelligent, Jack. You're almost done your degree— after this term, you've only got one year left, and it's not like you do poorly in your classes, is it? Even when it's something hard for you, like writing, you always do well when you put in the work. What did you get on your sociology paper a couple weeks ago?"

"Ninety percent," Jack mumbles, muffled by the way he's speaking into Davey's shoulder. "But I spent so long on it, and you edited it for me. I'm gonna fail this one. I can't do it in one night, and I can't write papers without your help."

"Well, I'm here to help now, aren't I?" He rests his hand midway through brushing it through Jack's hair and scratches his scalp gently, which makes Jack shiver and laugh quietly through his tears. "Right? And you can write, darling— all I do is fix up the spelling and grammar for you. The ideas and words are all you, just like when you give presentations and knock it out of the park every time. I sure can't do that."

Jack finally looks up at him.

"Yes you can. You get nervous beforehand, but when you do a presentation, it's always really good."

Davey smiles at him, now that they're actually looking at each other.

"It's hard for me, though. Just like writing is for you— but with lots of effort, you're really good at it. See my point?"

Slowly, a small smile spreads across Jack's teary-eyed face, and he nods. Davey feels rather accomplished with this development.

"I guess so." He wipes at his eyes and sighs. "Sorry about this. I'm such a mess."

"No apologies. I don't blame you for getting overwhelmed— you're in a tough spot here." He pulls Jack in for a quick kiss, which they both smile into. "I brought you dinner. Go heat it up when you're ready; I'll look over what you've written so far and see if I can come up with some more ideas to add on. We're gonna work together on it, okay? What painting did you choose?"

"The Martyrdom of Saint Matthew by Caravaggio," Jack sighs, looking almost forlornly at his computer on the table. "I have a lot to say about it, and lots of good stuff in my notes, but I just can't put it into paragraphs and sentences that make sense."

Davey nods, watching Jack as he stands up to go put the leftovers from Davey's family in the microwave.

"Well, I don't know anything about paintings, but if you talk me through it, I can help you put the actual paper together." He pauses as an idea dawns on him. "I'm gonna email your professor and ask about an extension— it might be a shot in the dark, but we should at least try. The worst he can do is say no."

"Sure," Jack replies from the kitchen, his voice still shaky. "He's a total hardass, though. Fingers crossed for a miracle."

Davey sits at the table, opens up Jack's email, and starts a draft.

Hi Professor Diaz,

Apologies for the short notice, but I'm wondering if it would be possible to have an extension on the analysis assignment, even if it's just by a few hours. I unfortunately mixed up some due dates in my planner, and I thought I had an extra week for this assignment; I only realized the mistake today, so I'm currently scrambling to get it done in time.

Would it be at all possible to turn it in a few hours late, just to have a bit more time to finish it up? I would really appreciate any amount of time you're willing to give me.

Thank you in advance for your understanding, Jack Kelly

He shrugs, sends it, and sincerely hopes a little professionalism and a decent (if slightly fabricated to make Jack look less forgetful) excuse will go a long way.

It's quarter to eleven, the paper is now five-and-a-half pages long, and Jack isn't crying anymore. He's in the zone, talking aloud about the painting while Davey helps him get his vague ideas into concrete sentences, and they're on track to have at least seven or eight pages by the time midnight rolls around— it might not get full marks, but it'll be better than nothing.

Jack's computer dings with the sound of a new email while they're taking a two-minute break— something they've interspersed every half hour, since Jack's focus is best in shorter bouts. He's in the middle of walking laps around the apartment to get his energy out and annoy his downstairs neighbours, but he scrambles back to the computer at the noise.

"We got a reply!" he shouts.

Davey is over on the couch, and he watches Jack's face closely as he opens the email. So far, so good... and then he slumps down in his chair in a show of what could either be defeat or relief. Davey can't quite tell, so he jumps up to go read it for himself.

Sure. Email it by 11:59pm tomorrow.

Sent from my iPhone

"Yes!" Davey shouts, grabbing Jack by the shoulders. "I told you it was worth a shot!"

Jack laughs, and then reaches up to pull Davey down for a kiss.

"You're the best, Jacobs. A fucking lifesaver." He rubs at his eyes, and then pushes his computer away, across the table. "I'll deal with this tomorrow. Let's just go to bed— you still have to be up early."

Right. Davey has a dreaded Saturday morning opening shift tomorrow— they open at five, and he has to be there well in advance to get set up, so he's got no chance at getting more than a few hours of sleep. He's going to be dead on his feet in the morning, probably fuck up a few coffee orders, but it'll be worth it to have helped Jack through tonight.

Poor Jack seems completely exhausted— as anyone would be after crying so hard earlier— so collapsing into bed after washing up quickly is an utter relief. Davey, despite being tall and long-limbed, greatly enjoys being the little spoon and Jack is happy to indulge him, so they curl into the familiar position.

"Thank you for everything tonight," Jack whispers, practically into Davey's ear. "I love you so much."

Davey smiles as his eyes fall shut, and he kisses Jack's knuckles softly, where his arm is wrapped around him.

"Any time, darling. I love you too."

#both my current projects are slow burns so an established relationship fic feels good #hope u enjoyed it!!!#javid #jack kelly #davey jacobs #newsies fic #my writing

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thoughts-on-bangtan · 3 years ago

Note

Can you imagine losing interest in BTS and their music ever? I've seen it's a hot topic on Twitter, how some fans just lost connection and how others put it as "exiting the magic shop". I don't understand. I spent my teens listening to the Beatles, Incubus and now that I'm 30's I still love them. I suppose it could happen but I just dont like it when people say they lost interest bec BTS has already healed them. Like, you can heal and listen to them at the same time right? Your thoughts guys?

First of all, thank you for this ask because this is such an interesting topic.

Secondly, I'm fairly sure this whole thing about "being healed from BTS", as in stopping being ARMY/stanning BTS was started by "ex-ARMYs" (or people cosplaying as such) on either twt or t*kt*k (or both) as a way to feed into the narrative of how you can only possibly like Bangtan while you're "sick" but eventually you get "healed" and move on to other artists, specifically other K-Pop groups. It's also occasionally used by people who stopped "stanning" BTS to make themselves look better in the eyes of kpoppies (or suck up to them) and to get hit twts. A quick twt search showed me a twt where someone spoke about how now that they've "left the Magic Shop" they're able to "love other people" and have found themselves in (Other Group’s fandom name)-land. As in Bangtan healed them so now they can listen to/stan “better” groups.

Do I think there are also genuine people among them who credit BTS for helping them heal before moving on? Probably, but I find the phrasing and way of thinking rather weird and also something that plays into the stereotype that liking a "boy band" is just a phase that you grow out of and then move on to "real music".

Are there people who genuinely "lost" whatever connection they felt or interested they had in BTS? Probably, though sometimes I feel like people misinterpret twts where people talk about leaving ARMY twt/their sns stan accounts as them stopping being a fan which is false. Being a fan of a musician is more than just posting on your stan account, right? There are plenty of people who are ARMY yet don't engage in fandom sns.

Now circling over to your question about if we/I can imagine basically falling out of love with an artist (BTS) and, well, personally I think it depends on certain factors. Just like you in my early teens I used to listen to a band called HIM, a little later to a band called Placebo, and to this day, if someone asks me who my favorite rock band is, I still name both of them without hesitation despite not actively listening to them anymore the way I do with Bangtan, as example. Yet it doesn't change the fact that I still love their music and check out what Placebo are up to from time to time.

I think there are certain bands and artists whose music simply does something for us, this specific something that makes us connect to them in a deeper sense, in one that makes their music and artistry stick with us even far down the line when we might not listen to them daily anymore, might not check their sns every day anymore, or even at all. At this point I'm pretty sure BTS are exactly that for me as well. I can imagine that perhaps one day I might not be as invested (invested in the sense of having a stan account and blogging about them) anymore as I am now, because that's natural, but I doubt I'll ever go as far as saying "I've lost interested" or "been healed from being ARMY" or whatever else some say.

So, when I said it depends on different factors if you'll ever fall out of love/loose interest, what did I mean by that? I think a major deciding factor is why you became ARMY/a fan in the first place and what it is that keeps you interested in them.

More below the cut:

If you became a fan because you’re into shipping and your main focus is your ship and nothing else, honestly, I doubt you’ll stick around all that long. And I say that as a vminnie and namjinist myself. I imagine, if the only thing about Bangtan I would care about would be those two pairings and I would spend all my time hunting for clues and looking at gifs/pictures and discussing them and nothing else, their music only being of interest to me if I could make it about my ship? I’ll be honest, I would probably lose interest in less than a year because you can’t possibly remain invested in two people, their lives, “relationship clues” and ship fights with others for years without basically getting tired of it.

Also when I say just focusing on a ship, I literally mean just the ship aspect, not even the artistry those two people have, like their music etc, but just the bond they have and nothing else. And yes, there definitely are people like this. I’ve seen Xkookers only care about (insert song here) because they thought it was about their ship but once they realized it isn’t, they never brought up the song again, and never spoke about the song itself at all. And I don’t want to just point my finger at them, there are also people who ship other pairings who act this way as well, definitely.

At the end of the day, eventually you’ll have analyzed all there was to be analyzed, discussed every aspect and detail, seen every moment and taken it apart, and will have had every fight you could have, and then...what? There’s only so much “content” and “entertainment” you can get out of someone else’s life and bond and that’ll only be able to keep you interested for so long...and then what?

But if you got interested in Bangtan due to their music first and that is your primary focus while them as people is more of a nice “extra”, that’s “sustainable”, for a lack of better words. They release lots of music every year, have a huge discography along with side/solo projects, their lyrics are so layered and you can find so much in them, immerse yourself in their artistry. Their music can become your companion, basically. There are so many ARMY that have songs and albums that mean the world to them, that helped them heal or love themselves, that they keep coming back to, that engage in discussions about their music, old and new, and who find boundless joy in all of it while also adoring the members themselves.

If you got into them for their personalities while thinking their music is just okay, an all right extra, but you love their bonds and shows like RUN or Bon Voyage, I could imagine that being some kind of middle group but then again, why stan musicians whose music you only find okay? Would you be a fan of an actor whose personality you like but find the movies they are in and their acting ability mediocre/okay?

I’ve been around for a long time and the way I think that’s possible, and why I think I will remain ARMY for years to come as well, is because I genuinely love their music, love spending time listening to it, reading about it, talking to others about it, but also because I adore the members, their personalities and who they are, their bonds, their variety show type content and vlives, and I adore vmin and namjin. While I love talking about vmin/namjin, if I had to just focus on that (as in the ‘ship’ aspect of their bonds) all the time, I’d get exhausted and/or reach a point where everything that could be said would be said, but because I also spend a lot of time with OT7 content and in non-shipper ARMY spaces, with their music, their other content, reading their interviews and everything else, it’s a “sustainable” way to be ARMY. And I’ve seen and spoken to other ARMYs who have been around far longer than me, some even having been around since the very beginning, even before their debut, and that's how they’ve remained ARMY since, because it was this package deal that they fall in love with, the fact that they spend their time engaging in different fandom discussions and activities, instead of hyper focusing on a certain part of it exclusively, like shipping.

Of course, if you fell in love with the package deal in your twenties while in a dark place but then reached your thirties and, with the help of their music (side note: while Namjoon (inspired by Seokjin) told us to use BTS to be happy, don’t put the “responsibility” of healing you/helping you heal solely on an artist, since that’s not fair or healthy, rather if you really need help/assistance/someone to talk to, please reach out to someone, friends or family, or a professional if you can) and other (outside) factors, reached a better place and don’t feel as connected to them anymore as you did before, it’s possible you might “unstan”, but that doesn’t have to mean you’ll move away from their music completely, that you’ll make a clean cut and never look back. Especially if they helped you, chances are they will always remain with you one way or another for a long time. At the same time, I guess it’s only natural that sometimes our interests and tastes change and the band you used to love might just not “do it” anymore for you. It’s human. There are bands I used to love as teen but don’t care about anymore nowadays because their music isn’t my taste anymore, I don’t connect with it the way I used to etc. Does something like that make you a fake fan? No, it just, well, makes you human. Though, like I said, at this point I don’t foresee that happening for me with Bangtan and there are a lot, and I mean a lot, of others who will tell you the same thing. We’re in this Bangtan sh*t for life, purple blooded. Even Namjoon joked about how once you get into Bangtan there is no exit anymore. Or that no jammer joke about how once you JimIN you never JimOut.

Lastly there’s also a whole conversation to be had of what will happen once the members start enlisting, or once the daily content turns into monthly, bi-monthly, every half year and eventually only sporadicly spread out throughout the year, when their music will be all that we’ll get instead of music + additional content like sns posts or RUN. What will happen when that day comes? Shippers and those interested in their personalities will stop “being fed” and eventually their interest will dwindle away. Those who need to constantly be engaged with and fed to remain interested will likely dwindle away and move on to other content/musicians that’ll keep them fed with new things on a regular. And those who are into their music, or the package deal, they’ll likely still be fans, still love their music and come back and be active when new releases come, still occasionally return to content like watching concerts or old RUN episodes, but even they won’t stick around the same way we all do right now. This isn’t to say that when that day comes we’ll find out who “the real fans are”, because the question of what a real fan is, is a whole other discussion to be had, but rather it’ll be a natural, normal part of fandom, of a musicians career, of a human cycle.

Take AC/DC as example, after so many decades they still have fans that show up when they release a new album, but I doubt those fans have active stan accounts and engage in daily fandom stuff the way you do with a constantly active/present artist like BTS etc. And I can imagine that’ll be Bangtan and ARMY much later down the line as well.

To sum it all up, I don’t think there is a black or white answer, merely a gray one.

#BTS #discussion on loving an artist #answered ask #bangtan sonyeondan

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korissideblog · 3 years ago

Text

soooo alot of people really liked my Takao Talking ideas, so i decided to make a fake little fan transcript <3

this is really really short, but it's my first time really going into philosophy without a prompt, so maybe I'll get better as time goes on <3

{hiya!!! I’m @spaceACE✩! (=^-ω-^=)~ }

{I luv luv luv Takao Talking!!! And while Taka has CCs on his videos, I just thought it would be fun to do a transcript for some of my fav videos!!! (=´∇｀=)~ }

{soooo here it is!!! ฅ/ᐠ ‧̫‧ ᐟ\ฅ please like, comment, and enjoy!!!!

(๑✪ᆺ✪๑)~ }

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

aki put my camera up really high and now i have to turn it on and off with a broom handle. let’s talk about optimism in the bad times.

[Takao looks directly up at the camera, the camera being at a very very high angle. Takao is a fit, tallish person with lightly tanned skin, curly brown hair, and shiny yellow eyes. He has two sets of horns, one set that holds closely to his skull and goes up at the very end, and another set that does straight out, again going up at the very end. She is wearing a simple black choker, an oversized white t-shirt that says “Of Course I Cum Fast; I Have Fish To Catch!” With an outline of a bass jumping out of a body of water on it, and black biker shorts, as well as black slides. He is holding a broom in his right hand.]

Takao: Ah, alright. I think it’s on now.

Takao: so! I was supposed to be posting a video that had my buddy Aki in it, but apparently someone was “being a nuisance” and someone else would “rather look at me than a camera lens” or whatever.

Takao: he was just being pissy and he put my camera up really high. And hey, that was cool when we were hanging out, sure. We made lunch together and ate it. It was a fun time all around. Problems arise when he leaves my place, and “forgets” to give me my camera back. I have to turn it on and off with this. [Takao swings the broom around a bit]

Takao: So if this video goes out, it means I’ve either grown a few inches, or I’ve invested in a step ladder. Both of these events are equally possible.

Takao: And if this video doesn’t go out, then you know what happened. Except that you don’t know, because this video obviously won’t be out. You guys are smart. Out of all my friends, I’m sure you could guess which one would fuck up my recordings.

Takao: anywho! Since I'm here, forced to keep my chin up, let’s talk about optimism in the bad times.

[Takao drags a settee into frame with a great amount of struggle. Cut to him carrying a small end table over and putting it next to the settee. Cut to him placing a plate of sliced apples on the table, as well as a glass of (sparkling?) water]

Takao: [lounging across the settee] it was Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz who believed that we live in the best of all possible worlds. He based most of his ideas off of the assumed existence of capital ‘g’ God, so that isn’t exactly the most popular idea about optimism that’s currently going around, but it’s what I'm gonna use for today’s video.

Takao: If we live in the best of all possible worlds, how can one explain the mass suffering that we face? One could possibly say that without knowing suffering we wouldn’t know joy, I personally agree with that, but one could also say that suffering is a consequence of the joy that we have. If there is no joy without suffering, then there is no suffering without joy.

Takao: I’ve personally gone through suffering, in many parts of my life, but I’ve also experienced joy. And given the ability to start it all over again, i think i would still suffer unnecessarily in order to be joyful unnecessarily.

Takao: But optimism in the bad times is different. It’s going through suffering and somehow finding something to appreciate, it’s, cutting your finger with a knife, but being alright with it because you can wear your buddy’s merch now. [Takao holds up his hand, and on it is a bandage. It’s a bit blurry, but it looks similar to merchandise that is currently out for pro hero Smokestack]

Takao: it’s not finding joy in suffering, that’s masochism, it’s joy in spite of suffering.

Takao: But I'm sure all of us know how hard it can be to find joy while suffering, so we kinda can skip over that part sometimes. I didn’t find joy in the fact that I could see my reflection in the knife that cut me, but I did find joy in the healing aspect. My suffering was mostly over by the time I got the bandage, but I still put it on because I needed something good to come out of the experience. I was working on healing myself, and that’s where I found joy. [Takao takes one of the apple slices and eats it. She lifts the glass of water, but pauses before he drinks it]

Takao: and hey, I wouldn’t have had the same joy if this bandage wasn’t my buddy’s merch. Maybe I wouldn’t have even put it on! Maybe there’s a timeline where I never met Jetsam, but I still got the same cut, and it got infected and I lost my finger. [Takao takes a sip of the water, and puts it back down] Obviously this is an exaggerated example, but you get my point. There’s a timeline where I didn’t make the friends I have today, and I suffered more because of it.

Takao: It’s hard being your own therapist. [Jiji, an old black cat, walks into frame] That’s why your therapist exists. Humans are social creatures, and will always suffer from loneliness. [Jiji paces in front of the settee till Takao picks him up and puts him on her lap] no matter how uncomfortable it can make us, we need other people. Other people may not be able to stop our suffering, but they can help us get through it, and help us heal afterwards.

Takao: [looking into the lens of the camera] I originally made this channel when I was… you know I was kinda messed up

Takao: Real sick in the head.

Takao: But you know what?

Takao: Van Gogh painted the Starry Night while in drug rehab

Takao: So maybe I’m onto something here

Takao: Maybe good things don’t come from bad things,

Takao: …

Takao; Maybe good things come from healing after bad things.

[The frame fades to black]

[A quick cut back to Takao as he holds the broom, trying and failing to reach the camera without standing up from his settee]

[A quick and startling cut to Takao’s feet as she quickly walks to another room]

[Takao is now wearing different shoes, black boots, and is closing her front door. The dull click of her boots is heard softly]

[Cut to more walking, this time down a sidewalk. The click of his boots more pronounced now]

[Takao’s feet sway side to side as he sits on a subway]

[Takao records a woman in a tight pink dress. The woman is attractive, tall and blonde, but the camera is focused on her bag, large and a matching shade of pink. Out of the bag pops out a tan chihuahua with a pink spiked collar. The subway speaker talks indistinctly]

[More walking down a sidewalk, but at a quickened pace]

[Takao points the camera at a mirror in an elevator, his head is not shown, posing cutely with her leg up and a peace sign]

[More walking down a hallway as Takao finds a door]

[Takao flips through a strangely large ring of keys. Once he finds one with ‘BC’ crudely carved into it, she sticks it into the lock and turns it]

[He opens the door and walks into a living room. A man sitting on a couch looks up. This man is Aki Hiroharu. Hiroharu seems to be watching the news while eating something out of a bowl. Hiroharu looks shocked to see Takao, and may be about to speak, but immediately stops as he goes to cover his face with his arm]

[The camera shakes as Takao throws a step ladder at Hiroharu]

Takao: BITCH ASS-

[There’s a short few shots of the two fighting, clearly playfully, but neither seem willing to lose]

[Someone puts the camera down gently, walking back to the couch and resting their legs onto the open stepladder. The person is a fusion of Haruhiro and Takao, commonly known as Akito by fans. Akito continues to eat as they watch the news.]

[End]

#wow this is alot shorter than it looked on the google doc #slowly feeling less and less confident about this #aito takao #aki hiroharu #bnha oc comeback #Takao Talking #Kori stories

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summonerscenarios · 4 years ago

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You know how Lucky Cats help you get more money? I'd like to imagine Andvari getting one and is like at first, got them totally for the profit... then slowly becomes a cat person. Headcanon on what kind of cat person he is? And how will he a Lucky Cat get it since those little fellas are rare for a 1🌟 unit?

dfgfds Andvari becoming a cat dad is an oddly wholesome scenario to think about - but who wouldn’t love the lil guys, they’re adorable!

--------

Andvari’s a business man at heart. He’s taken care to learn the tricks of the trade regardless of the world he’s in so that he can make the most of his skills and rake in the money. Luck is just another thing that factors into how much money you can obtain, so tipping things in his favor is something that the dwarf is actively looking out for when it comes to his work. Because of this, he knows a lucky cat when he sees one, and when fate gives him the chance to get his hands on one he’s quick to snatch up the opportunity.

One of his regular customers had been talking about taking a cat in, and about how they were looking for a new home for the little guy after a change of circumstances meant they had to give it to a better home. Initially, he was just going to point them to the closest person to solve their problem (after all, keeping regulars is all about helping em out with the lil things once in a while) but then Andvari gets a look at the feline for himself and just about trips over his own feet at the fluffy face of a lucky cat staring back up at him with big, bright yellow eyes. Andvari isn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth, and after some negotiations and more than a few promises that the customer can come check up on the kitty from time to time, the dwarf finds himself going home with one especially lucky little cat, already excited for the profit he’s gonna turn with it’s boon (plus he won’t have to worry too much about his sacred artifact with the extra bit of luck on his side, so he definitely sees that alone as a bonus.)

The cat’s actually a big hit at the Colosseum. At first, Andvari just brought the cat along with him for the benefit of its good luck, and didn’t care too much when it set up shop on his counter so long as it wasn’t trying to bat merchandise off the edge. But it isn’t long that the cats presence is catching the attention of attendants and tourists, and more than a few come over to coo over the feline lounging at the merch stand, building up a traction of steady customers even during the ongoing tournaments. Andvari’s loving the extra cash flow, and the cat’s loving the attention, purring up a storm whenever someone comes up asking if it’s okay to pet the fluffball. When the cat gets sick of the crowds, it toddles over to where Andvari’s sitting and plops down in his lap, and while he finds it a pain to be stuck in his seat when there’s customers to deal with, even Andvari’s not gonna push it off and ends up having to maneuver a little more carefully until the little one’s ready to get back on the counter.

It starts off slow, but you bet your buttons that Andvari ends up getting attached to the fluffy little kitty. As the days turn into a week, and in the subsequent weeks that follow, Andvari starts getting used to day to day life with the lucky cat. The first couple of days he gets a bit frustrated being woken up every day by a ball of fur clambering all over him, and he loses one or two shirts before he caves and gets it a scratching post and toys to save the rest of his clothes from its claws. However, all things considered, he finds that having the lucky cat around isn’t as much of a pain as he thought it’d be, in fact, Andvari gets along pretty darn well with the cat after the initial stages of getting the right stuff.

One thing about being savvy with money means that Andvari’s got the ability to splurge, and rest assured he absolutely does. They start off as little things - a spare cat bed at work justified as a place for the cat to snooze instead of being stuck on his lap; a whole bunch of cat toys to ‘keep it distracted while he’s busy working’; not to mention the sheer amount of different treats he’s ended up bringing home just because he ‘happened’ to see it. Needless to say, the kitty’s getting pampered when all of these things start adding up. (as it deserves tbh) On the long nights when he’s working on his latest projects and ringing in favors, the cat rarely ever strays from him, either stretching out over his work table and playing with stray stationary, or curling up in his lap for him to idly pet as he writes. There’s no telling when exactly the cat grows on him, but he’s very much a casual cat owner with how well the cat integrates into his life, and what starts as a long term investment becomes one very doting dwarf cat parent.

Others pick up on the change in Andvari’s demeanor as well. During one of the open days at the Colosseum, some kids were practically dragging their parents to come up to the counter to marvel at all of the shirts and keychains and other miscellaneous merch. By this point, Andvari’s so used to having the cat at work with him that he doesn’t think anything of the furball lounging over his shoulder like it usually does until one of the kids spots its tail move and practically bristled with excitement, throwing up their hands in his direction and yelling “Cat dad!” with an excitable squeal. Andvari’s so shocked that the cat goes sliding right back over his shoulder and he has to spin around to catch; by the time he’s swivelled back around the other kids are chanting the same phrase and the parents are giving him flustered looks trying to convince the kids to focus back on the merchandise before they get too loud. There’s no stopping that little nickname from making the rounds though, and Bathym’s got a shit eating grin when he asks how the ‘cat dad’s doing once the crowds thin out.

Yes, Pollux and the others pick it up too.

Yes, Andvari’s miffed that they do.

No, he’s not getting rid of that name any time soon.

But hey, at least the lucky lil cat’s loving it’s new home!

#Anonymous #tokyo afterschool summoners #housamo #housamo imagine #imagines #headcanons #housamo headcanon #andvari #housamo andvari #housamo berserkers #request #ask

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lassieposting · 3 years ago

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💘💘💘💘 + ghasdug

send me 💘 + A SHIP and i’ll tell you—

where they first met and how

So Skug says they stowed away on the same ship, but this is...not exactly true.

He stowed away on that ship, because he was running away from home and he was a snobby little lordling who'd never had to fend for himself a day in his life, so the furthest ahead he'd actually thought to plan was "they won't want to turn around and drop me off once they're underway".

Ghastly was not stowed away at any point during that trip. Ghastly was signed on for the journey as a deckhand, because Ghastly's mother told him he needed to, and it had to be that particular ship. Ghastly gets seasick, and did not want to go to sea in the slightest. But Ghastly's mother has visions and so Ghastly does as he is told. Apparently there was something important waiting for him on that ship.

Anyway Skug pops out once he thinks they're far enough away from shore that they'll leave him be rather than take him back to port, and he is incredibly mistaken. The captain is in favour of turning him around right there and then, because he's clearly some rich lord's brat, and whoever his father is will probably pay handsomely for his safe return. Ghastly manages to talk the ship's crew into letting him stay on, provided he pulls his weight like the rest of them.

Needless to say, even before they're attacked by pirates, that voyage is a rude awakening for poor Skug, and good lord does Ghastly hear all about it. He has blisters. His feet hurt. This shirt was expensive and now it's all sweaty. His hair is in his eyes all the time. He's tired. The guy in the next bunk snores. Some of these people look like they have lice. He didn't realise he'd be doing manual labour, this is servant stuff, how dare they.

Ghastly does. Not realise at that point what he has let himself in for.

how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved

Poor Ghastly gets to pine for years. Baby Skug isn't a great boyfriend. He's less invested - he loves Ghastly, but they have two totally different outlooks.

Ghastly is ugly. He's always been ugly. He's got a face he believes only his mother could love. He's never believed he'd find someone who saw past that or loved him regardless. So as soon as he gets Skug into bed, he's over the moon and ready to commit. He's like 17, and would absolutely settle down there and then given half a chance.

Skug, on the other hand, was a weird-looking child who only recently grew into an attractive adolescent and he is loving it. For the first time in his life, girls are noticing him. He doesn't want to settle down, he wants to play the field and sow some wild oats and have fun. So there are periods of exclusivity with Ghastly, interspersed with periods where Skug basically drops him to chase after the latest pretty bit of skirt.

who fell for who first ( if applicable )

Ghastly's smitten by the time they make it back to Ireland - Skug is a bit soft and allergic to hard work and a pain in the arse, but he's flashy and charismatic and funny and pays attention to him without gawking at his face (past the initial "good god, what happened to you?") - but Skug is well and truly settled into living with Ghastly's family by the time he actually gives Ghas the come-on.

where their first date was and what it was like

They went to the local tavern and got drunk, and then rode home in the pouring rain once it kicked them out at closing time.

When they got home, Ghastly's parents had long since gone to bed, but that wasn't necessarily unusual - once Skug, who has a considerable allowance, is old enough to start drinking, Saoirse institutes a rule that if they're not home by the time she and her husband turn in for the night, she'll leave blankets in the barn and they can sleep there instead. She's not having them barging in, wasted, at all hours of the day and night, waking her up after a hard day's work.

So they put the horses away and give them a quick rub down, and Ghastly is trying to look anywhere but Skug because Skug's shirt has gone kind of see-through and poor Ghastly is an awkward, horny teenage boy, but he keeps shooting him these furtive glances over the horse's back and Skug notices because Skug notices everything and lowkey teases him about it. "Want me to sit for a portrait? It'll last longer," sort of teasing, and Ghastly tries to laugh along but he's also vibrant red because he's been caught staring, so obviously Skug realises something's up

And he's precisely as tactful about it as he ever is about anything, and jokes, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you wanted me," and Ghastly's ears burn and he doesn't deny it quick enough and now Skug's eyebrows are inching towards his hairline and Ghastly panics because like, he's ugly, Skug is going to be disgusted or laugh at him and he can't cope with either, so he just? Freezes?

But like. Skug was a weird-looking, unfortunate child who very recently grew into an attractive adolescent, so he fucking thrives on attention. So his response to this awkward not-quite-a-confession is actually a moment of silence while he mulls this new information over (this feels like an eternity to poor Ghastly) followed by an early attempt at using The Hot Voice and, "If you want me, have me."

So, they end up having sex in the hayloft on the blankets Ghastly's mom left out for them. Ghastly has never even been kissed and doesn't admit that he has no idea what he's doing until he realises Skug is expecting him to take the lead. He also blurts that he loves Skug when he nuts, so like. It's your typical painfully embarrassing virginity loss.

It can't be all bad though, because Skug's up for doing it again.

who asks who out and how ( with a sign? spelled out on a cake? just a simple ‘will you go out with me’? )

So in my endgame-ghasdug AU, they get back together post-TDOTL. Ghastly survives being stabbed, but the blade nicked his spinal cord, so he's in a wheelchair for quite a while, and then has to do A Lot of physical therapy to relearn how to walk. Skug shows up at the hospital/facility where he's recovering every day unless there's an emergency, because Ghastly is very depressed and struggling with survivor's guilt over Anton and doesn't see the point in doing his physio because it hurts and he's exhausted and he shouldn't be alive anyway. And Skug annoys him into doing it, mostly by heckling him from the other side of the room, because he's not great at the whole emotional support thing. Ghastly will mutter, "Christ, I want to hit you," and Skug will tell him, "Well, if you come over here to do it I won't even duck." And if Ghastly gets his ass up and uses the walking frame support thing to cross the room, well, then Skug will take a punch like a man and be happy about it because Ghastly walked.

They also talk a lot during this period. Ghastly feels like shit, and he reminisces a lot about the good old days and how he never saw Ravel's betrayal coming and memories he has of Anton, and sometimes that veers into memories they share from when they were young men. And Skug, at this point, is old enough and has been through enough to admit that he wasn't great to Ghastly when they were boys. He was flighty and selfish and high-maintenance, and he would've hated to be treated the way he treated Ghastly. And he tells him that, at one point - that he's sorry, and if he could go back and do it differently, he would, assuming Ghastly was daft enough to be willing to put up with him a second time.

And Ghastly laughs and tells him, "I'd still have you now, you stupid bastard."

who proposes first

Ghastly. They're 19/20. Skug thinks he's joking.

if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away

Neither - they don't announce it, but it's not exactly a secret either. Ghastly's parents notice pretty much straight away, but other than a few parental pointers on what is and isn't appropriate, it's not really a topic of conversation.

where the proposal happens and how ( kiss cam at a baseball game? on a hillside surrounded by ducks? at a disney park? )

Skug's sister Confelicity accepts the first proposal she gets at the age of 16, because she's desperate to get out of their parents' house and away from their toxic relationship and controlling behaviour. Their father disapproves and refuses to attend the wedding (and, of course, their mother is not allowed her own opinion), and Carver is out of the country, so Skug stands in to a) pay and b) give away the bride. He takes Ghastly for moral support, because he doesn't like most of his relatives and also doesn't like the groom (Thurid Guild - their relationship doesn't improve when Confelicity divorces him a few years later to marry a baronet). While they're watching the couple say their vows, Ghastly murmurs, "We should get married."

Skug is right in the middle of his hoe phase and does not realise Ghastly's serious.

who’s more dominant

Generally, Skug. He is one hell of a force of personality and Ghastly does get steamrollered quite a bit, although he does eventually learn how to say no. Skug always gets things his way, always does whatever he likes and be damned to the consequences, and Ghastly is always there with a handful of the back of his shirt, pulling his ass out of whatever fire he started.

In bed, though, it's Ghastly.

how into pda they are

As teenagers, Ghastly's mother has to reprimand them occasionally for being too all over each other, but teenagers be rabidly horny. As grown men, they're just sort of casually affectionate. Comfortable with each other. When they're relaxing in camp after a day of travelling, Skug will lean against Ghastly to read a book or put his head on Ghastly's leg while they chat. They can have a silent conversation just by reading each other's faces. They'll nudge each other when something reminds them of an in-joke. They have that easy intimacy that comes with having known each other forever.

where their usual ‘date spot’ is ( if applicable )

As boys, Ghastly has a particular flowery meadow he likes to take Skug to for picnics, because he's a romantic. Skug at that age is considerably less so, and more interested in whether they can screw there without getting caught.

In the modern day, they go to see old movies. Ghastly was very into the early films of the late 1910s and the 1920s, after the war finished. He associates them with a time where he finally got to just set up his shop and live the life he always wanted to live. Skug hasn't seen most of Ghastly's favourites, because he spent that period of history fighting the truce and then spiralling into a black hole of trauma and misery, but he got very into the noir detective era to the point that he's still clinging to the aesthetic like 80 years later, so they'll alternate who picks the movies and catch each other up on their favourites.

who’s more protective

They've both spent their fair share of time fretting in the chair beside a hospital bed. After Ravel's betrayal, though, it's Skug. Ghastly retires as soon as he's considered fit to make the decision, and decides he wants to go back to Dublin to reopen his shop and just sort of try and forget Roarhaven exists. And Skug is absolutely adamant that he gets to do it. There's a lot of interest in Ghastly for a while - groundbreaking healing magic was used to fix what should've been a permanent injury, people want to know if he suspected Ravel, they want his advice on how to rebuild after Devastation Day. He's more approachable than China, and a lot more popular. But he can't cope with it all, and anyone who tries to hassle him in Dublin will have Skug to deal with.

how long it is before they sleep together ( can be as in ‘had sex’ or as in ‘shared a bed’ )

The first night Skug stays at Ghastly's family home. Ghastly is an only child, and his family isn't wealthy - their house doesn't have a guest room. It's sleep with Ghastly or sleep on the floor, and Little Lord Priss isn't going to be sleeping on the floor.

Honestly, he's relieved there isn't a spare room for him. He's never really slept alone before. Like most children of very wealthy families back then, he grew up in a nursery with his four oldest brothers and sisters, and when he was too old to live with The Children, he shared a room, first with Carver and then with Francis. The thought of being on his own in a strange house is pretty intimidating.

He moves to his own bed as soon as they get him one, but he stays in Ghastly's room, and he's perfectly happy with that.

(Ghastly is less happy. He's very much crushing on Skug and he's terrified he'll say something incriminating in his sleep.)

who steals whose clothes and how often

Skug gets to steal Ghastly's clothes for a year or two after he moves in with Ghastly's family. After that, they're built too differently. Ghastly is built like a brick shithouse of muscle. Skug is lean and toned and tall. When they're younger, he can more or less wear Ghastly's clothes as a nightshirt, but after Skug's final growth spurt, Ghastly's clothes don't sit right on him at all, and he's gotten too vain and fashion-conscious by that point to just wear them anyway.

what their usual coffee / tea orders are

Ghastly is fussy about his tea. Plenty of milk, two and a half sugars, leave the teabag in.

Skug just inhales it black, which Ghastly thinks is an abomination.

if they ever have any children together

Ghastly thanks his lucky stars every day that they have a 0% chance of accidentally spawning a skuglet. One of him is plenty.

He's very involved with Skugbab when he comes along, though. He's godfather and a very present uncle.

if they have any special pet names for each other

Skug doesn't do nicknames, and would rather not be given them, either. Ghastly gets away with "Skul", primarily because he's the only one who's known Skug since he was all of 16, but also because "Skulduggery" is a mouthful when all your blood is rushing to your downstairs brain and it's his own damn fault that he didn't think of that before he picked it.

if they ever split up and / or get back together

So many times. They're on and off again more frequently than Saracen's clothes. Every time Skug spots someone new, he ends it with Ghastly to pursue them, and then comes back when he loses interest or it doesn't work out.

what their shared living space is like ( messy? clean? what kind of decor? )

Ghastly's family home is an old farmhouse on the outskirts of Dublin. It's simple, but cosy, and Ghastly's dad is incredibly houseproud, so it's very well-looked-after. Skug prefers it by miles to his own palacial, but cold and unwelcoming, family home, and he tries to replicate the vibe later on with Wifey. It's pretty small compared to what he's used to, so it sort of feels like they're all living on top of each other, and he has to get used to not having any servants and drawing his own water to heat his own bath etc, but he's loved there, and that makes all the difference.

what their names are in each other’s phones

They're both old-ass men about some things, and this is one of them. So no emojis or anything - they're "Ghastly Bespoke" and "Skul". How romantic.

who falls asleep first and who wakes up first

Ghastly wakes up first: he's used to rising early to get started on his chores. Skug is absolutely not a morning person at this point in his life and Ghastly frequently has to turf his ass out of bed by pulling his quilt off/dumping water on him/yelling in his ear.

Reversed with modern day ghasdug: Ghastly still wakes at a sensible time, but damn it he left the army a century ago and now he likes a lie in. Skug never really stopped being a soldier and still has most of his military habits, so he's up with the sun.

who’s the big spoon / little spoon

Ghastly is the big spoon. Skug likes to be Held.

who hogs the bathroom

Skug. The boy is vain as all fuck. There is a grand total of one cloudy looking-glass in Ghastly's family's home and Skug spends a good chunk of the morning hogging it to fuss with his hair and peacock at his reflection. Ghastly is under strict orders Never to mention this to Fletcher.

#skulduggery pleasant #ghasdug #sp headcanons #long post

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blackberry-gingham · 4 years ago

Text

Alright y'all, in honor of Valentine's I'm doing a quick break from requests and making a holiday post! Enjoy, and happy Valentine's to all from me AND the boys!

Relationship or not, remember that you are more then enough and I love each and every one of you mwah!!! ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜💝💖💗

Imagine: what each of the boys would do as your Valentine

George

George would treat you to an at home spa day!

First things first of course, and that being a nice hot breakfast

But after that, it’s all you baby!!

You guys would take a nice warm (and scented ofc) bath together and just relax and unwind

Then when you’re all nice and clean, you go get changed into what’s most comfortable for you, ie fresh PJs, a robe, ect.

And then back to bed, where George has a whole set up that he’s been planning for you

A fragrent, but not overwhelming candle burns in the corner, offering a low, amber light

Nearby, a slow record plays quietly, adding the perfect amount of white noise to the background

And finally, a few rose petals are scattered on the freshly made bed

George invites you to come lay down, while he works some lavender scented oil into his hands

You can’t hide your excitement as you trot over to the bed and get comfortable

“Stop squirming now, you’ll tense up again!”, George laughs, as he respectfully exposes your back to the cool air

Somehow you manage to settle yourself, and George goes to work, rubbing slowly outward from the base of your spine to the curves of your hips

He repeats this gesture aaaall the way up your spine, placing kisses here and there to your bare skin and using his expert thumbs to gently loosen any knots his palms can’t stretch out

But before moving on, he makes sure to pay extra attention to the stress knots in your shoulder blades until they’re as loose as he can get them

He slides up to your arms, getting all the pressure out of the joints as he rubs from your wrists up, then down to your legs to help relieve the soreness from your day to day hustle and bustle

and when all’s said and done, you feel weightless from the relief and steady massage, ready to go back to sleep

George grabs a nearby blanket and drapes it over you, the warmth helping to lock the oil into your skin and muscles

He lays down beside you and presses a kiss to the apple of your cheek, and with but a soft whisper he says, “Happy Valentine’s, love”

John

For Valentine’s day, John wants to do something extra special!

But what?

He’s pretty good about being sweet and sentimental when he wants to be, but how can he turn that into a gift...

Under normal circumstances, he’d tell you that a day of good behavior on his behalf is a gift in itself

And while that could certainly be true, you deserve better then that

So, he does some thinking and goes for the one gift he can give that few to none have ever received

John works tirelessly and in secret so as to keep it a surprise

Judging on obsession and perfectionist work ethic alone, you would almost mistake him for Paul

But finally, finally it’s all ready to go

You wake up that day like any other, and you almost forget what day it is

John appears to already be awake somewhere in the house considering he’s not beside you

Then, it comes to you

Excited to see if he’s been planning something, you hop out of bed and go off to find him

If he doesn’t have any plans today, you certainly can come up with a few!

John hears you coming and catches you around a corner

You give a yelp of surprise as john picks you up in his strong arms and gives you a spin

He wishes you a good morning and happy valentine’s day followed immediately after by a smattering of kisses before he sets you down

“Now come on, I have a surprise for you!”

John leads you into the living room amd sets you on the couch

Looking a bit antsy, he tells you to close your eyes

You comply, and by now the suspense is killing you

At last John’s footsetps return, “Now promise you won’t laugh, alright?”

You gasp in mock hurt, “I would never!”

John sighs and rolls his eyes, but he suposes that’ll sufice

Fianlly you get to open and you’re... well, you’re lost for words

In John’s arms is a large framed canvas, and painted there upon it is a loving, beautiful rendering of a photogrpah he keeps on his desk

It’s of the first dance you and he ever shared

He carefully guides it into your lap so you can get a better look

“Well? Do you like it?”

You trace your finger ever so lightly along the curve of John’s painted back as he holds you close in the picture still slow dance, a soft smile drawn onto his lips

Tears well up in your eyes as you slowly put the treasured piece down

“John...”, you turn to face him, unable to get the words out

But you don’t have to

John’s expresion softeneds and he leans in for a kiss, “...Happy Valentine’s”

Paul

Paul also has a bit of thinking to do for his gift

His knee jerk response is to dedicate a song to you!

...Again!

And while he does start working on one (for later, of course), he decides perhaps he should think a bit deeper for today

But what can he do that’s more personal then music?

He doesn’t really have much else in the way of outstanding talent

(Or so he thinks)

Well... He definitely knows he wants to produce a labor of love for you

After all, he would go to great extents to make you happy, so whatever he can do to make that happen, he’d gladly do it!

So, he thinks and thinks, and at last it comes to him

He breaks out some paper and some colorful things to write with and sets to work

When the day comes, he preps a little tray of breakfast and nestles his gift to you along with the plate and utensils

“Room service!”, he knocks sharply on the bedroom door and lets himself in without waiting for a response

Slowly, you begin to stir at the disturbance, but you awaken for sure after Paul snaps the shades open

A stream of soft light floods the bedroom, forcing you to get up

“Paul, wha...?”

“Happy Valentine’s Day!”, he happily declares

He swings around to fetch the tray from where he left it, then crosses back over to your bed side

“Here we are!”, Paul lays the tray in your lap, then comes around to sit beside you

“Oh, thank you Paul, this is lovely”, still a bit sleepy, you give him a kiss then pick up your fork and knife

“Wait wait! Look at this first!”, he retrieves a small stack of what appears to be printer paper neatly tied together by the corner

You take it and examine it

The front has a big, poorly drawn heart done in red crayon with you and Paul’s initials written in the middle

Already a smile blooms across your face, which grows into a full laugh as you flip through each page

It’s a little coupon book of romantic favors, all written in assorted, Valentine’s themed colors and messy handwriting

Breakfast in bed, dinner at a restaurant of your choice, a massage, movie night, 5 kisses, and more are among your choices

“Paul, I love it! Thank you...”, you land on a coupon that says 1 makeout session, then shoot him a look

“...Can I redeem this one now?”

Paul glances at it and chuckles, giving you a sly smile, “Hm, I think I can give you that one for free. Just this once...”

Breakfast will have to wait ;)

Ringo

Now, Ringo is a simple man

He loves you very much of course, and would do anything to give you the best day ever!

But considering the gift is supposed to be something of a surprise...

That does complicate things a bit on what he should do for you, given that he can’t, you know, ask

He does a bit of thinking and even asks the other lads for ideas, despite the fact they aren’t much help

“How should we know?”, they say... Can you believe that?

‘How should they know’, how should he know?

So, he invests lots of thought into it...

All the spare brainpower he can muster...

And then... He’s got it!

He has to move quick to get everything together, given that Valentine’s is just around the corner, but he just might manage!

With everything set, he takes some time to get everything together for the big day, all neat and pretty

He even throws in some overtime while you sleep to spruce the place up a bit

The next day you climb out of bed in the morning and make your way downstairs

How strange that Ringo didn’t come to bed last night...

Not that you’re exactly complaining, that is

That man can snore something fierce

Hardly a few steps from the hall to the living room and you can already hear the good old sound of your boyfriend's rhythmic snoring

You yawn, closing your eyes and stretching as you round the corner, “...Dear, are yo-?”

But when you open your eyes, all you see is wall to wall of what appear to be handmade Valentine’s decorations

Sparkly, cut out heart banners, paper steamers, and a few clusters of balloons blown at various sizes are hung randomly around the room

Then, there on the coffee table, a massive bouquet of roses, over a hundred at least, provide a fragrant backdrop to a small teddy bear and a handmade card

You pick up the bear and give it a cuddle, then go for the card

On the front, two stick figures, one of which has been illustrated with quite a comically large nose, stand on a green hill with some hearts floating between them over their connected stick hands

The inside is addressed to you with a simple message of “Happy Valentine’s Day! Peace and love, Ringo”

You gasp and coo at the overwhelmingly sweet gesture, “Oh, Ritchie! Did you do all this yourself?”

Ringo snorts abruptly at the sound of his name and mutters, “Surprise!”, as he falls off the couch with a thump

Groggily, he comes to his senses, “Oh, uh... Happy Valentine’s! Uhm, D-do you like it?”, he asks nervously

You laugh and kneel down, your head hovering just above his as you give his forehead a kiss

“I love it”, you smile, and when you kiss him again, and again, and again, Ringo thinks...

Perhaps he did alright after all

#the beatles #the beatles x reader #john lennon x reader #paul mccartney x reader #ringo starr x reader #george harrison x reader #valentine's day #beatles imagines

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prose-for-hire · 4 years ago

Text

Cordy the vampire slayer

Cordy and Buffy Bodyswap au

Request: Hi, if you have time could you write a Buffy and Cordelia Body Swap fanfic? Set in the early episodes of Season 2? Giles tells Buffy about a special holiday for slayers, where the slayer can temporarily switch bodies with anyone she chooses and after an argument with Cordy, Buffy accidentally makes her choice. The only problem was that Giles never got to finish telling Buffy how long the switch would last — three months!

Requested by: Anon + @archiefan23

A/N: Just a little warning that Cordy kisses Angel as Buffy at one point. I really enjoyed this one !! Sorry it took so long to post love 💖

It was late morning. But the heat was rising by the minute. It was the kind of sunny day that held a multitude of possibilities. The temperature in the high school library was warmer still, but not uncomfortably so. It surrounded them in a glow that marked the beginning of summer. The kind of summer they hoped would spell demons and the like taking the same long break to sunbathe as they wished to.

Giles was in his usual suit, he wore his old faithful no matter the weather. The others figured there must be some kind of magic, breathable material tailored to him as otherwise he would be sweating buckets.

Xander, Buffy and Cordelia were waiting for Willow to arrive as Giles paced, figuring out how exactly to begin his speech without boring the teenagers to death. Unfortunately, this particular battle was one that would never be won.

Willow arrived, apologising and rushing to sit beside Xander giving him a bright smile. Giles nodded at her before turning to reveal

Giles sets the green, jagged stone in the centre of the table. Everyone just stared. It had begun to glow. The first time in a few decades.

“In every generation-”

“Oh I know this one!”

“-Yeah, there is a chosen one, yada yada-”

“No, well – yes. But, that was not what I was explaining. It is good, however, that you do actually heed what I tell you”

“God, Giles, nobody can forget it”

“I have dreams of that speech” Willow agreed.

“Nightmares” Xander added, shuddering.

“Yes, well, moving on from that enthused rally of support – in every generation there is a moment in the Slayer’s life where her consciousness may switch with that of a human. It is tradition that this would allow her to hone her skill and-”

“Well, I’m sold” Buffy shrugged, thinking of all of the free time she could have.

“-It was, ah, a vacation in some way and in others it was a sentence upon the woman that she swapped forms with”

“A sentence? Like, she had to write a paper on being a Slayer for the day? That’s horrible” Cordy said as Willow and Xander rolled their eyes at each other.

“Well, no – no nothing like this. The woman would endure being the slayer and survive unscathed would walk on the path of the righteous. She could be mythologised depending on how well she adapts to the gift”

“Yeah, like it could even be that hard!” Cordelia immediately scoffed whilst filing her nails.

“You wouldn’t last a minute, Cor”

“Oh yeah? Try me. I could slay twice as good as you!” she insisted indignantly, her hands on her hips.

“Yeah but Buffy would still get all the credit – you would be operating her body like some kind of whacky sci-fi feature” Xander added which made Cordy consider it. But, nonetheless she snatched up the stone and gestured for Buffy to do the same.

“Well, like, we would all know”

Buffy was pleased, mostly she wanted to have the day off. She thought Cordy had a pretty sweet gig. She was popular, athletic and people seemed to respect her. Plus she had seen the barista in the local coffee shop always gave her free Frappuccino’s.

So, they agreed. Giles asked several times if they were sure and they both raised an eyebrow and tried to get him to hurry up. Cordy decided she could track Devon down and show him exactly what he deserved for ignoring her for so long.

Giles put his hands over theirs who were clasped around the stone, palms glowing green as he recited the ancient rites. They stared at each other, their own bodies and facial expressions looked almost alien. It was really strange and Buffy couldn’t stop staring down at Cordy’s hands that were now hers.

The bell went and everyone went their separate ways. This could be fun, both thought at the exact same time. Cordy and Buffy couldn’t stop beaming for the entire day. They were really enjoying the swap. Cordelia would even write a paper on her day she was in such a good mood.

Cordy immediately skipped her morning classes and went to the beauty salon, to try and do something about Buffy’s hair and nightmare she called nailbeds. She was doing the girl a favour and it relaxed her anyway.

She found Devon and flipped him over her head with ease, warning him to call Cordelia back which he insisted he would and scrambled away. She dusted her hands off and put her hands on her hips proudly.

Buffy on the other hand went to all of Cordelia’s classes with little to think about other than whether that hot guy at the back was staring at her. She could just sit there with little expectation of her and enjoy it. She didn’t have to think about anything and it was really fun. She didn’t even mind sitting for Harmony for half an hour discussing the merits of a new hair serum.

It was going well. That first day was the easiest one and they were both convinced the other had it easy still. That was, until the revelation Giles was about to bestow on them. It was the end of the day and both met at the Library at the end of the day.

They returned to Giles in order to switch back. They just presumed this holiday was for a day before they were allowed to turn back. When they said this, Giles had to break it to them. Giles squinted, realising he hadn’t explained properly. They would be doing this for three months. At this revelation both of them began speaking over each other in their horror.

“That’s not a vacation, that’s squatting! This is a human rights violation, she should be paying rent to be living in there” Cordelia, from inside Buffy’s body, screeched.

“You should call your lawyer. Oh, wait – is he my lawyer now?” Buffy asked, deep in thought.

“Perhaps, uh, this will prove a pivotal part of understanding the other’s-”

“Oh my God! This is so not happening!” Cordelia spoke over Giles’ probably very profound explanation and instead stormed away.

She got in her car and started to drive towards her house, realising that she couldn’t go home. She scowled and reversed, driving to Revello Drive and tried to figure out which of the tiny box rooms was hers.

Buffy stayed with Giles and tried to see if there was a quick fix, but there was honestly nothing that he could do. He offered to drive her to Cordelia’s house and insisted that he would be there for her and Cordelia for the next few months.

The first month:

It had been a struggle. Neither of them were communicating much and Gies had insisted that the slayer still had to

It was ruining Cordy’s social life (not that she was convinced that Buffy had one anyway). She turned up to school after being driven by Joyce which she found kind of embarrassing but again, didn’t really mind seeing as nobody would know it was her.

Buffy’s arm was in a sling as she walked through the corridors. Cordelia had been trying to slay the night before and had fallen awkwardly onto her arm. No thanks to the real Buffy, who hadn’t come to help her.

As she was passed by herself, she reached and clasped her good hand around her wrist and pulled her with her. She tried to struggle but her new superstrength gave her the upper hand.

“Bathroom. Now!” Cordy squinted at herself and pulled Buffy with her again when she didn’t move of her own accord. Cordelia checked that the bathroom was empty before rounding on her.

“You know… if that happened last night your arm should be healed. Benefit of the slayer deal” Buffy offered before she could open her mouth, still trying to get used to navigating Cordelia’s body.

“Oh, yeah, I know - it’s fine. I just wanted a little sympathy but everyone kinda ignores you in the halls, huh?” she muttered, taking the sling from her shoulder and trashing it.

“Well-”

“Not the point! Where were you last night?! There was a vampire and it was like he knew every punch I was gonna throw!”

“How rude of him”

“I know!” Cordy agreed before stopping, realising Buffy wasn’t actually as invested as she was.

It was weird to Buffy how easily she had slid into being the popular girl again but it was a complete breath of relief. As if the entire world had been removed from her shoulders. She felt so much lighter.

“Ugh, just ‘cause you’re so boring and take slaying so seriously and vampires are like obsessed with you doesn’t mean that you have to be such a bitch!”

“I’m a bitch? You’re the queen of b-”

“You’re so gonna regret this, Buffy, I could make your high school career a living hell! Worse than any Hellmouth-!”

“Do you know what? I’m Cordelia Chase – I don’t take crap from anyone! Have a nice slay, oh, I mean day!” Buffy smiled overly sweetly before walking away. Cordy screamed in frustration, slamming her hand against a bathroom stall and ending up punching her entire fist through it in her frustration. Leaving her screaming again, but this time the door took the brunt of her annoyance.

After their exchange in the bathroom, both women decided they were going to make the most of the swap. By messing with the other and their lives. They were set on annoying the other just like they annoyed them.

Both ended up bickering more than usual if they ever saw passed each other. They started to say things or do things slightly out of character to annoy the person whose real life it was. This carried on for a few weeks. Cordelia started to show her strength more obviously, making more and more people question Buffy. Buffy started to pretend she couldn’t pick up even the easiest part of choreography for cheerleading.

Then, one day something happened that Cordelia saw as the final straw. Buffy walked in, as Cordelia, with her hair in a complete mess. She didn’t style Cordy’s hair and walked around all day with a birds nest. Cordy grabs her and tries to style it out, attacking her with a hair brush.

“Does my face really do that when I’m annoyed?”

“All the time” She replied, rolling her eyes. She tried to brush her hair again, but it was no use.

“No, I think the style’s really gonna catch on” Cordelia’s own face was smiling infuriatingly back at her. She was horrified. She was sure that she would never live this down. Her hair looked horrific.

“Fine. Then- then I’ll let everyone know I’m a slayer. I’m sure your Mom-”

“Cordelia! You can’t!”

“Then someone will have to discover that a tangle teaser is our friend”

Buffy soon realises that Cordelia means it and eventually gives in, which allows them a tenuous truce from there on in.

Cordelia and Buffy walked back home in the dark together, mostly in silence. They walk side by side until Buffy says goodnight and walks towards Cordelia’s house which would probably be empty when she got there. Cordelia warned her she wasn’t allowed to drive her car, she didn’t trust her.

It suddenly begins to hit each of them though, as they walked their separate ways. That their lives aren’t quite as easy as they expected.

Cordy realised she’s suddenly making all the tough decisions. The responsibility on her shoulders. Everyone automatically looked at her for guidance, to make the decisions – just because she had Buffy’s face. It was actually really hard.

Not to mention, Joyce’s parenting style was almost suffocating to her and Cordelia barely held back her snapping. She wasn’t used to someone asking after her every movement.

Plus, it was absolutely exhausting juggling slaying, sneaking out and pretending to be normal. She didn’t know why Buffy bothered. Because some gross men said so, like years ago? Cordy insisted if she was Buffy she would have quit. But, again, here she was still playing along even for the next few months without refusing to slay.

Meanwhile, Buffy was feeling how acutely Cordelia’s loneliness appeared to bleed into every aspect of her life. At home, she wasn’t really listened to no matter how rude or loud that she was. Her parents were rarely ever present and when they were it was to give her gifts to make up for all the time they were about to spend away again.

Buffy didn’t enjoy hanging out with Harmony and the rest of Cordy’s friends. None of them seemed to genuinely care about the other. Or share any meaningful bond. In fact, it didn’t seem that they cared for anyone except themselves and as soon as one walked away, they appeared to immediately begin to be rude about the others.

These new realities they have been planted in, these new perspectives gave them both something to think on. But it didn’t take from the fact that they were still so very annoyed with the other.

Month Two:

They had a lot of time to think, while living the other’s life. There was chance to reflect on themselves and the life of the other. In some sense, they were jealous and completely relieved there was an end to this.

The pair had began to bond a little more since the previous month where they were at each other’s throats. There was something about literally living another’s life that made them suddenly bonded together. Even if they didn’t really want to be.

Buffy just tried to avoid Cordy’s friends as much as possible rather than being rude to them. She didn’t want to upset Cordelia’s chance at popularity too much – she was starting to get it now, it was the way that Cordy could feel better about herself.

Towards the end of the second month, Cordelia had got into the swing of slaying by herself since those first rocky weeks. She found herself enjoying the daily exercise routine (she decided she would totally be bringing that back with her when they swapped back).

Cordelia and Buffy had been spending a lot more time together. Cordelia was in her own room – finally. Buffy’s home was a lot smaller, something she called ‘cute’ to her face but Buffy knew what she meant by it.

“When you said have a walk in your shoes, I wasn’t expecting to have to run the vampire-mile in last season’s boots” Cordy huffed, combing through the blonde hair she was still trying to get accustomed to while she looked in the mirror. She was getting angry at it, it was near-impossible to maintain in the way she was used to. Buffy always made it look so pretty. She missed her own brunette hair. She missed the way people would cower as she walked through the halls. She missed not having to

But, she liked that she could relax around the Scoobies and not have to worry about her image, not that she would admit it of course.

“Well, I always wear a heel that has a supportive ankle - y’know, for maximum slayage” Buffy shrugged and smiled, filing her nails in the way that Cordelia usually would. The change was a lot easier for Buffy seeing as this was the life she lived in Emery. It was sort of nostalgic to relive her more carefree years.

“It’s not even that hard, Cordelia. I mean, I don’t know how you hang out with Harmony and those other girls. They’re so shallow and kinda cruel” Buffy held herself back from including Cordy in the kind of girl that was cruel too.

Buffy, despite noticing the drawbacks of Cordy’s life really needed the holiday. She didn’t have any responsibility. She didn’t have to lift a finger at home and she could basically do whatever she liked whenever she liked. Cordelia’s parents barely even saw her.

“But, it never stops! Ever!”

“You’re doing this for what? Another month. You’re doing such a great job – really. Just let me have this last month and then everything goes back to normal”

“That’s easy for you to say! I mean, I have to be the Slayer and what? No soul-having hunk of goodness on my arm!?” Cordelia continued to whine as she got the comb caught in her blonde hair again. She tugged too hard and snapped the object clean in half. She groaned in annoyance. That was the last straw. She huffed and threw the pieces of the comb to the vanity table.

Buffy bit back a smile at Cordy’s overreaction. It was the opposite for her, an inconvenience not to have her strength. She felt weak and had a newfound appreciation for how her friends managed to fight vampires without any powers at their disposal.

However, Cordelia was sick of superstrength and vampire dust that seemed to get everywhere. This gave her an idea that would stay in the back of her mind. Cordy remembered that Angel had been out of town and would be returning for Buffy’s birthday. Interesting.

Buffy looked up, feeling sorry for Cordy. She knew how it felt to be out of your depth and she didn’t have the same kind of support system that Buffy did. Despite Buffy enjoying the freedom she had, she knew that this meant Cordelia wasn’t close with her parents. And her friends were shallow and wholly unsupportive. This realisation is why she offered what she did.

“Cordy? I can help, you know. With the slaying” Buffy offered softly. She was starting to realise she had just left Cordelia to it. Had begun by making her actual life harder too. It made the other woman look over, raising an eyebrow.

“Why would you want to help me?” Cordelia squinted as if she was suspicious, but Buffy just shrugged.

It made each woman think about why they had agreed to swap and what it would mean to work together rather than struggle alone. They nodded at each other, not really sure where they stood with the other.

Month three:

By the third month, both women knew the drill. Buffy would help train Cordelia and provide her with the most knowledge she could about slaying and how to improve. Which, the girl was surprisingly taking in her stride. She had slain three vampires by herself and with a very artistic flourish the night previous.

Cordelia used Buffy’s strength to her advantage spinning into a kick that would have made her overbalance before. She landed a few blows this time before she was thrown into a gravestone. She got up immediately, not allowing herself to stay down. She then charged at the vampire, plunging the stake into his chest leaving him dust in the wind.

She grinned in excitement. It truly was getting easier that slaying gig. She knew she was right – she could totally do it.

“Yeah! Take that, creep!” Cordy shouted at the pile of dust before jumping up and down over how easily she had taken that vamp down.

“Now we just need to work on your puns” Buffy added, her arms crossed as she watched.

“Only people with nothing interesting to say uses puns… oh, and you, obviously” Cordy added with a little shrug. They decided to call it a night and both were only hoping that no apocalypses threatened whilst they were still swapped. She was getting good but still.

During this time, Cordelia had also given Buffy pointers about how to enhance her popularity. To follow the age-old saying ‘Be more Cordy’. She helped her make up with Harmony by buying her something expensive and definitely not apologising to her.

It was still hard and Cordelia was always complaining whilst simultaneously gushing about the work-out routine she was picking up from this swap. She insisted she was going to do a slayer-inspired exercise video and make, like, millions from it which always made Buffy roll her eyes.

Buffy was sitting with her now usual gang of Cordettes hanging around her. She was counting to one hundred mentally in her mind until she would make an excuse and leave them to go to the library. She just hoped that she wouldn’t get seen entering again or face another war of passive-aggression with Harmony. This was one daily battle that she would rather take on an apocalypse over.

“So, what about you and Devon? He’s totally hot” Harmony afforded, “Not as much as my guy, obviously, but some people just have to lower their expectations right?” She smiled sweetly in that way Buffy had now become accustomed to.

“Yeah, Mr invisible sounds totally hot” Buffy quipped, knowing she could at least get away with that. It made the others giggle. Harmony always talking about this mystery guy but nobody had ever seen him.

Buffy sighed as she thought about all of the men she had encountered since she had swapped bodies with Cordy, and what they had propositioned to her at the Bronze. Buffy realised that men tended to try to use Cordelia and then just as quickly begin to ignore her. She does use her looks but she never ends up getting what she wants. She wants a committed relationship, companionship. It made Buffy really sad for her, she finally understood what Cordelia meant about being lonely despite having so many people around her.

She then turns to Harmony and insists, scarily exactly like Cordy would, that he was a total burnout loser with no prospects and even less in his pockets. Total no-go. The way gossip worked at Sunnydale, Devon would be blacklisted by anyone who was anyone by the final bell.

Which, is something she probably wouldn’t have done if she had known what Cordelia was planning to do that evening.

Cordy greeted Angel that evening and he smiled. It was Buffy walking towards him, how could he not smile? Angel opened his mouth to say something but she immediately crashed her lips to his. She kissed urgently, a hint of desperation and need that he would have found nice if it had actually been Buffy kissing him.

He frowned, somehow he could just sense that something wasn’t right. He stilled her, his hands on her upper arm. He pulls back, scanning her face. He squints, not sure if he should say something.

“You’re not…”

“Oh, come on… baby, I’m the slayer and you’re the soulfully good vampire. Let’s- do it” Cordy used her best seductive face, which admittedly worked better with her own features but she worked with what she had.

“Buffy, maybe we should… patrol” angel said, his voice wavered as his forehead furrowed. Something just wasn’t right.

Buffy sighed deeply and rolled her eyes and it reminded him of someone. She turned to leave but he called to her before she did, “Cordelia?” Angel tried and Buffy’s eyes met his immediately.

“How…?”

“You’re not her…” Angel admitted, looking at the floor.

“But I look like her, I’m stuck here with her entire wardrobe! What’s the big?” She sighed, her loneliness bubbling back to the surface. Ashe didn’t know whether to lash out or just cry at the rejection. She was a strong person and yet she was crumbling at the way that even as Buffy who appeared to have everything she couldn’t replicate it the same.

“Love isn’t about looks. Or, how nice your outfits are, which, um – they are pretty” He assured her, trying to soften the blow, “It-it’s something you feel deep inside. Something you know without having to question or second-guess yourself. It’s… her”

Cordy sat on the side of her bed and Angel sat beside her, comforting her. She was upset at this. Nobody had ever felt so deeply for her, she was sure of it. And it stung.

“Why does nobody like me for me? Why do I do everything and still have nobody?”

“You’re a great girl-” Angel started awkwardly, not really sure how to comfort the girl. But at these words, Cordelia suddenly stood up and left, running to Buffy’s house and hiding in her room. Just hiding her tears until she closed Buffy’s bedroom door behind her. She wanted a love story. Why did she feel like a secondary character in her own life?

The next day at school, it was finally the day. The day that Cordelia and Buffy were supposed to swap back.

Angel had explained to Buffy what had happened (although his eye contact was anywhere but her face as he found it weird to be so comfortable talking to Cordy this way). But rather than Buffy flipping out, as she might have done say three months earlier, she realised exactly why Cordy would have tried it on with Angel. Especially so after realising just how lonely it can be living Cordy’s life.

“Cor, I know what happened last night”

“Oh, yeah? What is loser just stamped on my forehead?” Cordy sighed and when she saw the look her own face was giving her she understood. Buffy wasn’t trying to be cruel or laugh at her rejection. She softened slightly, “I’m sorry okay? I am”

“Look, I know we’re not close-”

“And our hair is a very different style and texture” Cordy added without thinking.

“Our slaying abilities are different too” Buffy muttered under her breath and then shook her head at herself. She really was easily sucked into being the popular girl, “We’re not close but we’re a lot more similar than I ever thought. I get it, okay?”

Buffy took Cordelia’s hand in her own and offered her a comforting gesture. So much was left unsaid and yet both felt understood by the other in a way that had never really happened before.

“It’s tough at the top and we’re just both at the top of our worlds” Cordelia nodded along. Buffy’s the slayer of slayers and she slays the rest of the student body to be the most popular. It can be so lonely at the top and both understood the other in a much different way than they ever had before.

Cordy’s words made Buffy smile but she nodded. It was easier for Cordelia to express herself this way. Both of them were glad that they were changing back but they would miss the way that their weird friendship had blossomed through the last three months.

They understood completely now the pressure the other was under. Their points of view. Their lives. They were both hard in their own way. Maintaining Cordelia’s popularity alone was exhausting.

Giles returned to the library, nodding at the pair of them. Telling them that he was proud of the pair of them. Cordelia really had proved herself and Buffy had shown herself as someone who can support others and allow them to learn under her guidance. This admittance made both women gasp, both of them longed for a father figure and Giles saying this made both of them remember this moment for a long time after.

He recited the words, safe in the knowledge that both girls had learnt to work together in the way he had hoped upon his suggestion. Buffy needed to take a step back to have a break to appreciate her gift whilst understanding she had allies she could equally turn to for support.

A green hue lit up the room as their bodies swapped back. There was a final rush of cold air, making them both shiver and instinctually step back from each other.

This was right. Their own body, lives, returned to them. They shared a smile, a small nod of understanding before Buffy launched herself at Cordy. Pulling her into a hug. Both of their eyes were watering, it had been a long past three months.

The girls had never felt close, mostly because they hadn’t really understood the other. Not like this. But now they were sure that they would keep this bond for the rest of their lives.

#Cordelia Chase #Buffy Summers #Buffy #Cordy #btvs #btvs imagine #btvs fic #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagines #bodyswap au #bodyswap #buffyverse #buffy x cordelia #Buffy Summers x Cordelia Chase

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fanficimagery · 5 years ago

Text

Cheap Thrills

Summary: Imagine receiving drunk text messages from a random number. Even when you make it known you're not who the person is looking for, the texts keep coming. And it's not until you make a post about the texts, complete with screenshots, do you find out who it is.

Words: 3.9K Warnings: None that I can think of.

[From XXX-XXX-XXXX]: u awake? [From XXX-XXX-XXXX]: miss u [From XXX-XXX-XXXX]: can i come over? [From XXX-XXX-XXXX]: hello?

You read the texts, snorting at the poor unfortunate individual who typed in the wrong number. Thumbs tapping out a message of your own, you send it before getting back to your movie.

[To XXX-XXX-XXXX]: i'm sure whoever you're trying to reach misses you too? But sorry to say you have the wrong number.

The random number doesn't text you back so you continue on with your night as if nothing had happened. But the next morning, when you wake up, you find yet another text message from the random number.

[From XXX-XXX-XXXX]: i am so sorry about those texts. I was drunk.

[To XXX-XXX-XXXX]: lol it's alright. You're forgiven.

You've had random numbers text you from time to time, but never a number that texts you in a drunken stupor yet again even after you've told them they had the wrong number. So the following night, you're surprised to see the stranger's number pop up again.

[From XXX-XXX-XXXX]: what r u doin?

[To XXX-XXX-XXXX]: umm…

[From XXX-XXX-XXXX]: r u a chick or a dude lol..

You snort. Of course. It's definitely a guy texting because had it been a drunk female there's no way she'd care to find out the gender. She'd most likely just text to her heart's content before passing out without a care in the world whether it was a guy or girl listening to her rant.

[To XXX-XXX-XXXX]: chick.

[From XXX-XXX-XXXX]: yess! Boyfriend?

[To XXX-XXX-XXXX]: jesus. You're really in top form tonight, aren't you?

[From XXX-XXX-XXXX]: baby i'm in top form every night ;)

[To XXX-XXX-XXXX]: and on that note, I'm out. Don't forget to chug some water before bed, Stranger Danger.

The texts continue the following weekend, the drunken stranger flirting to his heart's content. He's funny, is definitely down to cuddle, and really wants to spend the night though he has no clue who you are. You had asked for a name, but never got an answer. You weren't too alarmed about not knowing it since he was never really serious about coming over (at least you hoped not), but your curiosity ended up getting the better of you.

So after screenshotting a couple pages, you post them to Twitter after blacking out every number but the last four with the caption: Get you a stranger who'll drunk text you even after explaining you're not who he's looking for..

You weren't really expecting the screenshots to blow up the way they did, nor for anyone to actually know your drunken stranger, but sure enough a week later you're receiving private messages from none other than David Dobrik himself.

Planning to meet David Dobrik leaves you feeling a bit anxious, but you calm when he tells you his assistant Natalie will be joining him. So after hastily making some plans, you agree on meeting in a public park where there will be others around to make you feel a bit more comfortable.

You choose a pretty shaded spot beneath a tree in clear view of everyone milling about the park, and plop down with an assortment of snacks as you wait for David and Natalie to show up. Fortunately for you, you don't have to wait long. Natalie video calls you to find exactly where you're at and when she does it's not long before you're meeting them face to face.

David's already giggling and recording when he steps up to you, and you can't help but smile in return as you stand to greet them. "Hey. So, uh, it's cool to meet you guys." You briefly hug each of them before gesturing for them to sit with you.

"Likewise," David says. He and Natalie sit, and you offer them some of your snacks which Natalie readily digs in to. "So not to be rude and rush you, but can I please see the texts?"

You chuckle. "Yeah." Bringing forth your phone, you pull up the numerous texts from the number David claims to know. As you pass him your phone, you ask, "So you gonna tell me who Stranger Danger finally is?"

Natalie's eyes widen before she swats at David's arm. "You haven't told her?!"

"Ow! What?"

"David," she sighs.

You watch them, grinning. "I mean I kind of understood why David waited, but I'm really curious as to which one of your friends is thirsty as fuck to be texting a stranger."

David laughs as he continues to read. "Did he really say I'll show you mine if you show me yours?"

You grimace. "Yeah. Even sent me a dick pic which is why I tell him that I don't wanna see the peen a few texts down."

"Oh my god," Natalie muses. "He didn't."

"He did. Now can I please know whose penis I have seared into my brain?"

Natalie facepalms as David says, "Toddy."

"Toddy?" You brow furrows as you try to recall which one Toddy is. It isn't until Natalie shows you a picture of Toddy on her own phone do your eyes widen. "Oh. Oh wow."

David snorts and Natalie winks as she puts her phone away. "So you never once asked what he looked like?" She then asks as David screenshots everything he can before airdropping the pictures to his own phone.

"I mean I didn't really care about what he looked like," you shrug. "I found amusement in the texts and it surprised me that he continued to text every time he got drunk. I asked for a name eventually, but he never gave one."

"So he doesn't know your name or what you look like?" David asks, finally looking up at you.

"Nope."

He slowly smiles and Natalie groans. "I know that look. I hate that look. What are you thinking?"

David giggles. "I'm thinking of surprising Todd." You must make a face because David's quick to finish explaining. "It'll just be us and Todd. We can all hang out at my place and if the others show up, they show up. It'll be fine."

"I- I mean.." You trail off, glancing at Natalie. "What do you think? You've got a clearer head on your shoulders."

"Hey!"

Natalie huffs a small laugh. "It could be fun," she then says with a small shrug. "Todd will definitely find it funny, especially since you exposed him on Twitter. He'll also be happy that you're cute."

You blush as they stare at you, anxiously awaiting your answer. And after taking a moment to think about it, you sigh. "What the hell. Let's do it."

David cheers and they waste no time in helping you gather your trash. David offers for Natalie to drive his car while he drives with you, and she agrees. Then on the way to his house, David records some more to get more of your story for his vlog.

He finds out you're single to which he ooh's at and casually mentions that Todd is single as well, and is quite fascinated to learn that you think his friend is hot. You laugh and end up blushing, so to make you feel a little better he mentions that you're his friend's type as well. But all too soon you're pulling up to David's house where he's instructing you to park behind the safety of his gate.

You've seen his house in several of his videos, but it still leaves you awestruck as they lead you inside. All shoes are left by the front door and you can't help but stare at the ridiculously large bean bag chair when you enter the living room.

"Dibs."

"On?" David asks, he and Natalie immediately plopping down on the couch and stretching out on opposite ends.

"The bean bag." You cautiously take a seat and let yourself sink into it, smiling at David's giggling. Once you're completely laid back and curled up, you sigh in contentment. "I definitely need to invest in one of these."

"It really is comfortable." David taps away on his phone, humming. "So Todd should be here in a couple of hours. Does anyone want to order food while we wait?"

"Food. Yes!" Natalie groans.

"Does anyone deliver a good burger? I am so down for a burger and fries," you grumble.

David turns on his TV while Natalie orders the food. Bohemian Rhapsody is on and you urgently plead for David to leave it on that. He does and you have no shame in singing along or clapping to the Queen songs. The We Will Rock You scene leads you to performing your own rendition of the song, and both David and Natalie crack up when you sing the entire song from heart.

The food eventually gets there and you all take a seat at the kitchen counters. However, not even halfway through with your food, Todd texts David that he's outside.

"Oh shit, Y/N. Hide!" David tells you.

You nearly fall off your stool to which Natalie nearly chokes on her food laughing at, but she's quick to help you into the guest bathroom that's just around the corner. She leaves you alone and rejoins David, and it's not long before a third voice enters the mix.

----------

Todd walks into the kitchen, yawning and ruffling his hair. He nods at Natalie as she washes a few dishes to place in the dishwasher, and then takes a seat next to David who has his camera set up across from him.

"So what's going on?" He asks, stealing a french fry from the tray in front of him.

"I called you over here because I want to hear your side of the story," David informs him, slowly grinning.

Todd freezes, nervously chuckling as Natalie smirks at him. "About?"

"About this." David pulls up tweet that went viral, showing Toddy the screenshots of his text messages.

"She didn't," Todd exclaims, laughing. "Fuck. She did!"

"You've been exposed," Natalie muses. "How does it feel?"

"How did you even find these? Or even connect them back to me," Todd then wonders. "Wait does she have a pic?"

"No," David laughs, taking back his phone. "And I know it's you because the last four digits are the exact same as yours, and when I DM'd her I confirmed that the number she had was the same one I had for you. It was a long shot really, but I'm glad I took that leap of faith."

"You talked to her?!"

"Yeah. She's really cool. I think you'd like her."

"Really?"

"Really," Natalie agrees. "And if you keep eating her food, she's going to murder you."

----------

"And if you keep eating her food, she’s going to murder you."

"My food?" You mumble. But then Natalie's words click and your eyes widen. You can hear Todd beginning to ask something, but you throw open the door and march out towards the kitchen. "Not another bite, Stranger Danger!"

Todd nearly falls off the stool from where he whirls around so fast and you can't help but laugh. He's surprised, but beams a moment later, and you slowly walk towards him.

"You're the- you're her?"

"Yep." You stop a few feet in front of him. "And you're him- the drunk texter."

"Holy shit." He laughs, shaking his head at David whose recording it all, and then asks you, "Can I hug you? Is that weird?"

"You've sent me a dick pic, man. There's no getting more weird than that."

The tips of Todd's ears burn red as he moves in for a hug and you embrace him briefly. When he lets go, however, he keeps one arm around your shoulders as he faces David's camera once more. "So how much of my texts have you actually seen?"

"Everything but the picture," David giggles. "Y/N deleted it."

"Y/N?" Todd then glances down at you.

"Yep. And you're Todd. It's nice to officially meet you."

"Aw. Aren't you two adorable," David teases. "Now come on. Let's move this to the living room. It's getting weird just standing around."

"Wait. Hold on." You scurry forward and grab up your half eaten burger, taking one last big bite from it before heading towards the living room.

Todd watches you go, gaze adoringly watching your every step. "Marry me."

With bulging cheeks, you wink and continue on.

David and Natalie retake their spots on the couch, and the bean bag is so large that Todd throws himself next to you after you've settled down. The problem with the bean bag, however, is that you end up sliding towards Todd since he's heavier. He winks when you bump into him and you huff a laugh, but you get settled either way and pull out your phone to give you something to do.

Todd, you find out, is an Instagram hoe and you find yourself taking numerous selfies with him- some with filters and some without. You're even in his Instastories, laughing and trying to cover your face, but it's no use. He gives no explanation as to who you are, only that you're a friend. He even posts quick little videos of David and Natalie, and you arguing with David over which movie to watch.

You have no idea how long you've been with the group, only that it feels like you've known these people for a long time, so it's no big surprise that other friends of theirs show up to hang out.

Erin and Carly show up together, followed by Zane and Matt.

"Wait. So let me get this straight," Erin exclaims. "You," she points at Todd, "have been texting her," she then points at you, "for weeks? And you had no clue what the other looked like or names and this is your first time meeting?"

From your position- Todd stretched out one way and you the other with your legs draped over his- you grin. "Yep."

"Todd!" Carly laughs. "What even- how?"

"I thought I was texting Corinna!" He defends himself, chuckling. "I deleted Corinna's number, and she and Y/N have similar numbers. Totally accidental."

Everyone glances at you and you roll your eyes. "Chill. I knew his texts were intended for the ex. I even encouraged him to text her, but his drunken self found more amusement with a stranger."

Natalie snorts. "I'll say. He asked for nudes pretty frequently."

"Todd!" Matt cackles at the same time Zane muses, "Baby, no."

"Don't worry, I never sent them. I got more respect for myself than that," you say. "Todd, on the other hand, has no shame."

"You didn't," Erin says.

"It was one time!"

"It was still a dick pic." You grin. "And come on, man, who are you trying to kid? Your texts were thirsty as fuck at times."

"I have got to see these texts," Zane says.

Smirking, you pull up the text messages on your phone and move to toss your phone to an eager Zane. But seeing what you're about to do, Todd grips your thigh just enough to make you laugh in surprise. "Y/N, don't."

Zane's still reaching for the phone so Todd rolls over you. You grunt at the added weight, wiggling just enough to roll both you and Todd off the bean bag and onto the floor. You both grunt when you land.

"Oh my god," David laughs. "This is better than two girls fighting in baby oil."

Everyone's laughing now, especially when Todd says, "There's nothing better than two girls fighting in baby oil," as he gets the upper hand and straddles your stomach.

Your phone slips out of your hand, which he's quick to grab up, but with your free hand you're free to pinch Todd's nipple through his shirt. He yelps and you're quick to buck him off, you then rolling the both of you in order to straddle his stomach before reaching towards his outstretched arm for your phone.

Todd goes oddly still before giggling and it's all too easy to reclaim your phone. "You know what, I'm not even mad about this position."

Slightly leaning up to glance between you and Todd, you huff a laugh when you see his face is practically in between your tits. "You're a dick." As you fully sit up, you pinch Todd again to which he giggles at and then toss your phone at Zane. "You have free reign to read every one of Todd's texts now. Enjoy." Zane cheers, Matt, Erin, and Carly quickly crowding him to read them as well.

Todd pokes your waist and you flinch, your waist being very ticklish, and the two of you end up slapping each other's hands as you slide off of him and back onto the beanbag. Todd's beaming smile makes your heart beat a little harder and you're grateful he can't hear it.

"You're kind of strong," Todd says as he ends up settling next to you once more.

"I should hope so. I grew up with two older brothers. You best believe they tried every wrestling move on me until I learned how to get out of it."

"They still tease you?"

"All the time." You slowly smile, chuckling at fond memories. "What about you? Any siblings you fight with?"

"Nah. I'm an only child."

"So you're an only child who still acts like a child, huh?"

"Hey!"

Todd reaches over as if he's going to tickle you and you curl up in order to protect yourself. "No! I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

He chuckles softly and reaches for you again, but he only hooks an arm under your neck and pulls you in so you're curled into his side. "How much longer can you stay?"

You hum. "Not much longer," you admit. "I live about an hour away so I should be on the road pretty soon."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

Zane, Matt, Carly, and Erin are still hysterical over Todd's drunken texts, David and Natalie are in their own world, as are you and Todd. His calm demeanor puts you at ease and you suddenly find yourself wishing you could stay much longer in his presence.

"Aw. Look at them," David suddenly teases. When you and Todd look at him, David smirks. "You're welcome."

You snort. "Shut up." Todd opens up his phone to momentarily distract himself, but in doing so you see the time. "Shit," you mumble. "It's already that late? I need to go."

Todd's head snaps in your direction. "Aw. No."

"Sorry, but I need to." He frowns and your heart goes out to him for a bit. "Tell you what. Let's go grab some dinner. You take your car and I'll take mine so I can leave afterward."

"Fuck it. Let's do it." You and Todd stand up, and everyone readily stares at you. "Nope," he tells them. "None of you are invited."

As the weeks slowly pass, nothing really changes with the exception that you've made friends with several Youtubers, and Todd's taken to texting you when he's sober as well now- maybe even hanging out when he's not with everyone else. So it's really no surprise when you get a FaceTime call from David as you're scrolling through social media before you put a movie on.

Accepting the call, you squint at the too bright room on David's end. "Do you have to have all those lights on? Jesus." As you move around, you end up laying back on your pillows.

He grins. "It's not even midnight. Why are you in bed already?"

"I'm not in bed-bed." You roll your eyes. "I was just getting ready to watch a movie. It just so happens that it's more enjoyable to watch from the comfort of a bed."

"Yeah? Which movie?"

"Guess."

"Bohemian Rhapsody."

"Goddammit."

David giggles. "You have a serious problem when it comes to that kid from Jurassic Park who's all grown up now."

"Joe Mazzello went from an adorable little nerd to total daddy material. He deserves all my love."

"Jesus Christ." You grin at David's amusement. Eventually though, his laughter tapers off. "Well I'll let you get back to your movie, but I need to record something real quick. You game?"

"If it involves me leaving my bed, then no. Other than that, let's do this."

"No. This is good." David props his phone up so he can hold his camera with both hands and record the call. Then, he says, "So since I posted the video of you and Todd meeting, the viewers have gone crazy."

"Of course they have."

"Inquiring minds need to know," he smirks, "if you're still Todd's booty text or if an honest friendship has blossomed from my intervening?"

You roll your eyes, teeth digging into the bottom corner of your lip as you fight off a blush. "Why does this feel like an episode of Catfish where the host is checking in weeks later to see how I'm doing?"

"Just answer the question, Y/N."

"Fine." You sigh. "Hold on." Getting out of bed, you then make your way downstairs. Heading for the kitchen, you then flip the camera on your phone. "Does this answer your question?"

Upon hearing your voice, Todd turns around from his place at the kitchen island where he was fixing a bowl of popcorn. He smiles. "What are you doing?"

"Oh my god!"

Todd's smile falters but your wink lets him know all is good. Sidling up to his left side, you hip check him as you flip the camera back so it catches both you and Todd. "An honest friendship has blossomed," you say. "I am introducing him to my current favorite movie."

Todd chuckles as he leans closer to the screen, his expression then morphing into one of mock horror. "Help me."

"No way. Natalie owes me twenty bucks! NATALIE!" David then sets his camera aside, picking his phone back up as he starts walking around. "So how long have you guys been hanging out for behind our backs?"

"Since you introduced us face to face," Todd says. "And we weren't exactly going behind your back, we just-"

"We wanted to hang out without anyone making a big deal out of it." You shrug. "But it's been long enough and you're going to make a big deal out of it no matter what, so.."

"So if you don't mind," Todd says as he takes your phone from you, "Y/N and I got a movie to watch."

"Wait! Just answer one question," David says. Todd goes quiet, nodding. "Did you finally get Y/N to cuddle you?"

Todd and David explode with laughter at the same time, and that seems to be all David needs to hear. You take your phone back, shaking your head. "Goodbye, David. We'll text you later if you're still awake." And before he can retort, you end the call before pocketing your phone.

"I guess the cat's out of the bag," Todd muses, shrugging sheepishly.

"Well not the whole cat." You slowly smile, leaning up on the tips of your toes and pressing your lips to Todd's. "And it's going to stay that way just a little bit longer. Your fans are crazy."

"Whatever you say, babe. Now can we please go watch that movie of yours? You got me all hyped up after those Queen songs you played all afternoon long."

"Sure thing." Todd grabs the bowl of popcorn and you grab some drinks from the refrigerator. As he follows you back up the stairs, you say, "Now don't get all huffy when I eventually swoon. I adore you, but I adore Joe and Gwilym just a little bit more."

"You're a terrible girlfriend."

"And I'm afraid I don't get much better." You huff a laugh. "You signed up for this, babe. Get used to it."

#vlog squad x reader #vlog squad imagine #toddy smith imagine #toddy smith x reader #the vlog squad x reader #the vlog squad imagine #toddy smith #todd smith #david dobrik #natalie mariduena #fanficimagery #imagine

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circumstellars · 4 years ago

Text

I don't normally do the writing myself, but this fandom is so quiet and lacks content, so I'm forced to write awful terrible ficlets to contribute.

General rating, Five & Diego, Elliot POV, Lila cameo. Happens after Diego is stabbed S2 EP2 and while he's recovering under Lila and Five's care S2 EP3. No more than 1600 words ish.

Inspired by this post:

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The pain is immediate, the cramps are in possibly every muscle Elliott has. When consciousness hits him like a thunderbolt, it drops him into the middle of a tension-laced back and forth between... didn't they mention names? The aliens - er, his uninvited guests are muttering lowly not far away. The tightly wrapped gag has chafed both corners of his mouth and he can't seem to focus.

'You didn't untie him?'

A kid? Oh! The Kid. Elliott opens his eyes with a start and spots through bleary vision the (alien?) boy just a few feet away, looking unnervingly human and pawing at something on his neck. He looks unimpressed at the response he gets.

'Was I supposed to?'

There's a deep, exhausted sigh and before he can grab his bearings again, Elliott feels loosening pressure behind him. Two, Three, Four... Five! That's it! Shit - had he really stared them down the barrel of his shotgun? He should be dead it registers, but the thought is fleeting and broken by Five's weary voice; there's small, barely audible cracks in every few syllables when he says,

'The assumption here is that you will behave.’ Elliott snaps his head obediently just before the gag is loosened and the relief floods over the aches in all his nooks and corners. 'Put on some coffee: I need to think.' He can't see Five behind his chair just then, but his words sound far away, clipped short by a quick flash and the falling of dead air to replace him.

Elliott can hear the English woman fussing in the next room, and a quiet snoring from a third party, and he licks at the dried blood crusted in the right corner of his mouth. However his limbs protest, he gets up carefully anyway.

He doesn't know when Five plans on returning, but Elliott doesn't want to find out what happens if the coffee isn't finished when he does.

---

Elliott doesn't sleep that night. He isn't the only one.

It's well into the earliest morning hours when the third pot of coffee finishes brewing, and only just, before Five blinks into the kitchen to pour yet another cup. Elliott peers at him from his desk in the adjacent room, where Five has been keeping him busy monitoring his collection of radar equipment. Elliott hasn't the faintest what half these devices do, but the boy seems incredibly invested, and every little blip on his screens is scrutinised by Five immediately.

Elliott quietly takes a bite of cereal he's only half-interested in eating, and ever so carefully watches the boy in the kitchen over a few spoonfuls of tasteless granola.

Five looks eerily pensive. He's staring into the blackness of the coffee pot on the counter, and Elliott can barely see his unmoving figure, licked over occasionally by yellow light flowing in from where his wounded brother lay resting in the common room. In the quietude he can hear a pair of soft, twin snores float through the flat.

He has so many questions. They're bubbling up behind his lips but he is careful to say nothing until Five breaks his moody silence. Elliott doesn't think much of himself, but there are bits and pieces he'd rather maintain un-melted by an unpredictable alien teenager.

When Five does finally move, Elliott had long given up studying his motionless shape and was arms deep in rolls of labelled film canisters scattered about him. He nearly screamed when a deeply troubled sigh dropped in behind his ear and brought him to attention- he swallowed it quickly.

'You're out of gauze.'

He nods shortly in acknowledgement, his eyes following as Five leans his lower back into Elliott's desk and weaves his arms over one another tightly. The expression on the boy's face even in the dim lamp light from the next room looks stormy and blackened; his eyebrows are knitted deeply and however impossible it might seem his folded mouth looks like it belongs to a man four times his age. Elliott finds it moderately disturbing. It's another long few minutes before Five mumbles, barely audible into the dead air,

'Was he breathing? You know, when they got here,' and he's not looking at Elliott but even a hermit like he was versed enough in social interactions to pick up on the subtleties in Five's voice. The question was so steady and so calm, too calm, the kid's eyes too stony - his posture too impassive. Elliott's eyes flickered over to the opening of the atrium across the way.

'I didn't see much - I was um, you had me, you know,' he vaguely gestures to being strapped to one of the dentist chairs nearby. Five doesn't say anything, so he keeps going and drops his spoon into the bowl in front of him. 'But-but uh, the girl took care of it,' he says uselessly. 'The other one-'

'Diego.'

'-right, D-Diego, he didn't make much noise at first. I couldn't see what she was doing but she sounded... upset. Then the guy started screaming for bit before quieting down, I guess, until you showed up.'

Five's expression remains poker-still. Elliott swallows audibly. 'Mostly the guy--Diego--' he is quick to correct himself as Five's eyes slide icily in his direction, 'wasn't saying much, sort of gasping I guess, he sounded really hurt. Sort of just saying one thing really,' Elliott sits back in his chair, holding one hand with the other in hopes he isn't visibly quivering. He's fascinated by these newcomers, especially this one, but part of him can't shuck the thick layer of nerves that buzzes over his skin in Five's presence. It's almost like his body is scared of something his eyes aren't registering beyond the schoolboy shorts and preppy, embroidered blazer.

He can see the thin black line of Five's mouth part, so the rest rapidly tumbles from Elliott's lips: 'Kept saying, uh “Dad", a lot, or-or… something.'

WHAP.

He launches out of his chair at the sharp smack of a fist on the brittle wood of his desk. It shakes and Elliott shakes too, but in a rapid blink Five is gone from the room. What just happened?

He catches a shadow in the corner of his eye and moves to follow it out into the large atrium once more. The whole room is dark and yellowed by the single lamp on the corner table, and its casting bewitching phantoms on his dingy walls. Diego is laid there on his sofa, quiet in sleep save for a few stuttering wheezes that sound quite painful to Elliott.

'He's really stupid.'

Elliot exclaims under his breath and snaps his head toward Five. The boy is nestled in the darkest corner on this level, pressed up against the barrier across the way. He can't see his face, but can tell he's crumpled up into himself just as he was at Elliott's desk a moment before.

'I don't know how he made it to adulthood, quite honestly,' and Five says this gravely; he is quite serious. 'I can't believe how stupid he is, even now.'

Elliott doesn't know what to say. He says nothing.

Diego fusses in his sleep a moment before his breathing settles, encumbered but steady.

'He knows. He's voluntarily-purposely stupid because he knows.' Five sounds strained. His breath is loud enough to hear from several feet across the room; Elliott doesn't know if it's because the room is quiet or Five is loud. 'He must know on some level that I'm always going to come back to break his fall. Maybe they all do.'

For an extended moment, nothing followed Five's muted words. Elliott feels like a haunting in the doorway. He shuffles uncomfortably from foot to foot. He doesn't know if Five is talking to him or at him, or perhaps neither, maybe he's already forgotten his harmless new acquaintance was still in the room completely.

Elliott is overwhelmed with unbelievable curiosity and debilitating ignorance; he doesn't know the first thing about any of these people, or their closely guarded secrets. He's not sure he even experiences the same reality as them, so he is not sure he understands Five's hum of suppressed anger - if it is in fact anger at all.

Suddenly, he wants to leave. The room feels smaller, more intimate and it's like he doesn't belong in his own living room. He doesn't know if he was meant to ask, but he does.

'So then... why?'

It's all he gets out, not a entire thought but at the same time a fittingly complete question. Why?

Be that as it may, he doesn't expect Five to answer. Elliott isn't sure exactly what he is to this kid--alien--person, or what purpose he is meant to serve here, but he is almost certainly sure it is not Trusted Confidant. He may very well be superfluous furniture to any of them, even in his own house.

It's an eternity before Elliott decides to pull himself away, escape whatever surreal little bubble is suffocating him in this doorway. The unadulterated exhaustion in his sore joints and bones is slithering up the back of his neck all at once.

He's suddenly startled by a hand reaching out from the darkness beyond the door. He's pulled an arms length toward what turns out to be the dark figure of The Girl, who raises a finger to her own lips. She doesn't speak and doesn't move, and Elliott stares into what features of her face he can make out in the poor lighting, but she's clearly already focused beyond him. Her expression is absolutely opaque as she looks toward the weak light spilling out of the main room doorway.

It's futile now, he thinks. He is certain they are completely out of earshot when he hears it - or maybe he doesn't, the voice is so incredibly fragile and quiet and young that Elliott is sure it belongs to no one in this house that he knows of.

Perhaps it was a pining spirit passing in the night, the sound of it’s longing confession diffusing instantly in the air as if never spoken at all.

'... It's because I love them.'

#tua #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #five hargreeves #number five #tua five #diego hargreeves #tua diego #ficlet #myworks #mywriting #my nonsense #myficlets

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