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marauder-misprint · 18 hours ago

Note

hi! can you do something with the marauders preferably sirius or james where the reader has constantly been like kind of invisible her whole life and spoken over and in the end has just stopped speaking up much ? thankyou <33 ( no pressure though! )

Hi! Thank you for this request ❤︎ Not sure how I feel about the quality of this. I definitely feel like it's not James enough, but it is what it is. Or maybe it's the lack of interactions with the rest of the Marauders that has me feeling like this? Idk. (It also might be because I'm not a huge James writer? Who knows?)

ANYWAYS! I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Potions partner

James Potter x reader

4.6k words

cw: fluff, yapper!James

You’re not sure which is more peculiar: the story you’re telling or the fact that multiple people are listening to you tell it.

It had happened during Care of Magical Creatures class that morning. Professor Kettleburn was trying to settle an aggravated Thestral and was failing horribly to the point where he dismissed class urgently. You were one of the few students who could actually see the beast so your retelling of the event was more descriptive than the rest of the class’.

But what wasn’t peculiar was when a boy sat down a few seats away from you with complaints about the latest Transfiguration essay and all the attention that had been on you and your story moved on. Was the Thestral more interesting? Yes. But you were you, a background character in your own life. People didn’t pay attention to you if there was something else going on.

You sigh and turn your attention to the food on your plate. You’ve barely touched it since you were talking for once. Now that attention has left you like it always does, you’re able to eat. It had been nice to feel heard, even if just for a few minutes. You never did hold people’s attention for long. You were just something to fill the background, nothing special to see. And often you weren’t seen. There were too many times for you to count when someone brushes past you, accidentally knocking you to the ground and they barely give you “Sorry, didn’t see you there.”

In short, you weren’t seen and you weren’t heard.

It wasn’t just your classmates either. It seemed like once a week, a professor would scan the classroom as they marked who was in attendance and they’d ask if you were there. You always were. You’d raise your hand and wave it around. Sometimes, even with that, they’d miss you until your friend spoke up and said that, yes, you were, in fact, in class. You weren’t sure how the professors managed to skip over you so much, but they did. Maybe it was because you weren’t an extreme. Your grades weren’t horrible enough to be of concern, nor were they exceptional enough to be used as examples and to earn house points.

That afternoon in Potions, one of your least favorite things happened. Professor Slughorn announced a partnered-project.

“If everyone could get into pairs please! We will be working on brewing Felix Felicis and there will be various assignments with this. Pick someone you will be able to focus with. Yes, this means that Potter and Black cannot be partners.”

A pair of groans erupt from the back of the room.

“I got dibs on Moony,” Sirius says.

James groans again, scanning the room. Lily had picked Mary. Marlene and Peter didn’t continue with Potions in N.E.W.T. level. People got into pairs quickly. You had immediately turned toward Emmeline. She was usually kind to you, but she paired with Benjy Fenwick. Your options dwindled fast.

“Alright, anyone without a partner?” Slughorn asks the class as the room began to settle down.

You and James both raise your hands.

“Alright, you two are paired then. Here is the first assignment…”

You glance at James and cringe internally. Loud, boisterous James was your partner for the foreseeable future. Slughorn hadn’t given a timeframe for how long these assignments would be. You try to listen to everything that he’s saying about the first assignment, but it’s difficult when you’re dreading the assignment before it’s even really begun.

After class ends, you approach James.

“Erm, I’ll do the essay if you want to do the first part of the potion?” you offer, hugging your books tight to your chest.

“Huh? Oh, for the project. The essay’s long, don’t you want to work together on it?” James replies.

“I don’t-” you start to say.

Sirius interrupts you. “Mate, the girl’s just offered you the easy way out of the project. Take it and run.”

You press your lips into a thin line, nod and walk away. Sirius got it. You’d split the project into separate pieces as much as you could. Plus, did Mr. Popular really want to be seen with someone as quiet and invisible as you? You didn’t think so. As you made your way to your next class, you assumed that was the end of the conversation.

It wasn’t.

James finds you in the library after dinner. He’s slightly out of breath as he places his things on the table.

“You’re a hard one to find,” he says, taking a seat across from you.

You don’t say anything. In fact, you barely spare him a glance.

“I wanted to talk to you about the Potions project,” he continues as he takes out homework for a different class. “It’s a multiple part project. It’s very interconnected, not something we can split down the middle and work on separately.”

He stops talking and waits for you to respond. You still don’t look up. You just work on your Herbology assignment.

“You… you are my partner for Potions, right?” he asks, running a hand through already-messy hair. “That’d be embarrassing if I just sat down across from the wrong girl…”

“We’re partners,” you whisper, more to your parchment than James.

“Great. So I’m at the right table! Like I was saying, you can’t do the entire essay and have me do all the brewing. I mean, we can do that. Like you write and I actually brew, which is fine. But we have to meet up to work on it, you know? Can’t do one part without the other.”

“I prefer to work alone,” you say. “So take my offer or do it all by yourself.”

James’ eyes narrow.

“That’s not how partner projects work.”

You raise your eyes to meet his for the first time since he sat down. Pretty. You sigh and look back at your assignment. You have work to get done. You hope that James will get the message, accept your terms and leave you alone. Instead, he starts to work on an essay for Astronomy.

“Do you study at this table often?” he asks nonchalantly.

“Mhmm,” you hum.

Part of you wants to ask why he’s asking. What’s it to him that you work at that table practically like clockwork?

“This a daily thing or weekly? Every other day? Multiple times a day?”

“Whenever I have assignments,” you answer, although it's a very non-answer. When didn’t you have homework as a sixth year?

Every teacher assigned endless work to prepare you for the incoming exams. You were to be prepared and the way to prepare you was to assign work.

“So you’re here every second of every day, got it,” James says cheekily.

A quick glance at him reveals a smirk playing on his lips. Despite his quill hovering about parchment, he’s watching you, scanning your face for some kind of reaction. Something more than the quiet, short answers you’ve responded with so far. It’s a change of pace for James. Everyone wants to talk to him. He can talk with anyone about anything. It’s a gift that he and Sirius share. You, on the other hand, aren’t talking and it’s strange to James. Even Lily talks more when she’s shooting down his advances.

“Do you need help with that for Sprout?” James offers, confident that he can get you to talk more. “I finished it over lunch.”

You shake your head. James frowns, having been hoping for a verbal answer. He gives up trying to get you to talk for the evening, although he doesn’t leave your table. The two of you work in tandem for a few hours. James is far more uncomfortable with the silence between you than you are. It’s something you’re used to, and even if James had decided to ramble on about something, you would’ve managed to get the same amount of work done. James was used to noise around him, even in the library. With friends like his, quiet work time didn’t exist.

The next day James tries to say hi to you during the few classes that you share. You offer a small smile or a quiet ‘hello’ in response. You never stop and talk to him beyond that, which bothers him. You were partners for a project that would inevitably force you to spend some time together. Why didn’t you bother trying to get to know him at all?

“That’s your Potions partner, right?” Sirius asks as you walk away from them for the fourth time. “The one you got stuck with?”

“Yeah. Clearly doesn’t talk much,” James answers, watching you go and wordlessly sit down next to a Hufflepuff. He runs a hand through his hair absentmindedly.

“Maybe she just doesn’t know you? Or like you,” Peter says.

“What do you mean, Wormtail?” James asks.

“You’re not friends with everyone and some people don’t talk to people they don’t like.” Peter said it like it should’ve been common sense.

“But how can she not like me if she doesn’t know me? Won’t even try to know me? I sat with her for hours last night and I got maybe five sentences out of her!”

“You were in the library,” Remus snorts. “Some people respect the library’s quiet.”

“I know how to whisper!”

The other three boys burst into uncontrollable fits of laughter. James Potter whispering was more akin to a stage whisper. So, not a whisper. He was a loud person.

Then after dinner, James sits across from you in the library again.

“Same table. Easier to find,” he says as he takes out his homework.

Just like yesterday, you don’t respond. You don’t look up. You just continue working. James, however, is more intent on getting you to talk. He tries to think of something that might get your attention. It’s more difficult than he originally imagined. He didn’t know you. “What’s today’s assignment?”

“Care of Magical Creatures,” you say, voice barely qualifying as a whisper.

That got James’ attention more than it should have.

“Were you in class with the rampant Thestral? I heard it was crazy. Can’t imagine dealing with a creature you can’t see!” he asks.

“Professor Kettleburn provoked it. He pulled its wing. It looked overstretched,” you say with certainty.

Looked.

“Looked?”

You nod, flipping the page of the book you have open in front of you.

“You can see them? I thought you could only see them if-”

“If you’ve seen death,” you interrupt James.

He’s staring at you with wide eyes.

“You’ve seen death?” James asks.

He’s certain that he won’t get any work done. Not when you can see Thestrals.

You nod, again. Yesterday you were thrilled to have people’s attention as you recounted the beast mauling Kettleburn with its hooves. Today, you want to get your assignment done so you can return to your dorm. You aren’t sure why James is so curious about it, or why he keeps talking to you. No one ever sits at your table two days in a row.

After you don’t speak, James lets the conversation, if you can call it that, die. He figures that you don’t want to talk about who you’ve seen die. Maybe it was someone close to you. Maybe it was recent and hurt too much to talk about. He tries to focus on his work, but he was right in his assumption that he wouldn’t get work done. Even if you weren’t talking, James found you fascinating. His eyes keep drifting up to watch you work.

He breaks the silence after a while. “Can we work on that Potions essay tomorrow? I’m fine with brewing the potion, but we’ll work on the essay together.”

You sigh yet you nod all the same.

“Great!”

And with that, James leaves you alone.

The next day feels the same as the last. James says hi to you whenever he sees you, earning the same responses from you. There’s something nice about him taking the time to say hi to you when most of your classmates barely acknowledge your existence. Still, he’s only your partner in Potions and he didn’t choose to be your partner. It just happened because Slughorn said he couldn’t be with Sirius.

When James finds you in the library after dinner at your usual table, he’s lugging his cauldron with him. You stare as he sets it up next to the table, taking out a small collection of ingredients.

“Bit rough getting this past Madam Pince,” he tells you, seeing that he managed to catch your attention for once. “But I figured, if we’re working on the essay right now, might as well work on the potion too, right?”

You open your mouth as if to speak but nothing comes out. You gape like a fish out of water.

“You do have your Potions stuff with you, yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah… I do…”

You move your unfinished Care of Magical Creatures assignment off to the side. You’d work on it more after James left. Or at least, whenever he was done insisting on this ‘working together’ thing.

“Right, so Slughorn wants the first portion of Felix. And the essay is on the…” James says while looking over his scribbled notes.

“Essay is on the ingredients’ effect on the coloring. Pretty self-explanatory if you ask me,” you finish for him.

“How do you mean?”

You try not to laugh at James.

“Please, occamy and ashwinder eggs? Common rue? Shiny, shiny, yellow. It’s basic color theory.”

“Huh,” is all James says for a moment. Then he follows with, “That’s why you offered to do all the writing, isn’t it!”

“More like I thought you wouldn’t be bothered to work with me.”

James gasps, putting his hand over his heart like you brutally offended him. “Ouch, sweetheart!”

“Just get to brewing, Potter.”

And that’s the last that you spoke that evening. You worked intently on the essay as James brewed the potion. For some time, the sound between you was the crackling of the fire under James’ cauldron. But then he started talking. At first it was about the potion. He told you about everything he did and the immediate effects, every change of color and consistency. You didn’t need the commentary, although you used it to ensure that James was doing everything correctly. His descriptions matched what you had written.

Then he reached the point where the potion needed to simmer, James started talking about quidditch. You humor him for a while, listening to him ramble about what you easily assume is his favorite topic. He talked about more than just the Gryffindor team. He talked about the different tactics he’d seen the other houses use this year and how well they executed them, how they compared to the professional teams and how each of those teams were doing this year. Then he went on a tangent about the new rules and regulations that were passed recently and how they affected the game. He went on for a while.

“Do you want to read this or not?” you ask with some snap to your voice.

You slid the finished essay across the table toward James. You had written the entire thing as he brewed, only a testament to why you thought that partner part of the project was pointless. But if he wanted to ‘work together,’ you figure the least you could do was have him look over your work.

“Oh, yes! Let me see,” he mumbles as he takes the parchment from you.

You resume work on your Magical Creatures assignment. It takes James a few minutes to look over the whole thing. You had put a little extra effort into writing it since it was going to be James’ grade as well. It was one thing if your own work was subpar but when someone else got brought into the equation, you tried a little harder.

“This is great. You really did the whole thing while I brewed?”

You nod.

“You’re fantastic!” You feel a heat creep up your neck at the compliment. It was just an essay.

“Okay, so we have the potion and the essay for the first deadline! Great! I’ll clean up and get out of your hair. But I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” he asks, a wide smile on his face.

You nod again.

Over the next week, James continues to meet up with you in the library. He’s grateful that you never change tables. That at least means you don’t mind too much that he’s joining you. With each day, he tries to get you to talk. He tries topic after topic, hoping to come across one that you wouldn’t mind opening up a bit for. What James doesn’t know is that you’ve trained yourself to limit your responses. Even if someone asked about your deepest interest, you’d barely let on that you knew everything about it.

Then, just as you’re getting used to James constantly being at your table, he says something that throws you off.

“I won’t be here tomorrow.”

You want to respond with “Okay?” He wasn’t required to do homework for you after dinner every day. He wasn’t obligated to sit at your table. You still didn’t even really consider him your friend.

“We got the quidditch pitch reserved for a last minute practice before Saturday’s match,” he says, pausing to watch your face with curiosity. If there was a change in your expression, he’d see it. There was no change. “You’re coming to the match on Saturday, right?”

There was hope in his voice. Like he really wanted to make sure that you’d be in the stands for the game. Almost like he wanted to know if you’d be watching him, and just maybe, cheering for him.

You blink your eyes slowly.

“I… I’m not sure.”

“Oh?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Depends on how much work I get done, I guess.”

“Stay hard at work then, will you? I’d like you to be there. Heard it’s going to be a good match,” he says, his grin audible in his voice.

It makes you look up at him rather than at the parchment in front of you.

“Heard it’s going to be good?” you repeat back to him. “Wouldn’t you say that about every match you’re in?”

“I mean, yeah, but Saturday’s especially.”

“We’ll see, Potter.”

“You’ll only see if you go.”

You flex your eyebrows and turn back to your assignment. James smiles to himself as he begins to work again too. Something about your demeanor made him think that you would show up. He wasn’t really sure why he cared if you did, but there was something about you. He had grown to like the quiet air that you maintained. He didn’t mind that you didn’t talk much, despite his desperate attempts to get you to talk. You kind of reminded him of Remus during first year, if he was being honest. And that means that you had the promise of becoming a very dear friend.

You would be lying if you didn’t work extra hard the next evening while James was at practice. You didn’t promise anything but you felt that you owed it to James to at least try to be at a point where you could justify going to the match. You went to a handful of them. You could follow along enough with the game, not that it mattered. Balls were tossed around, some were hit and there was a super small one that only two players tried to catch. That’s about all you needed to know.

Still, you don’t know why you felt the need to show up for James. It wasn’t like he would be able to see you in the sea of students. It was one thing to find you in the library. It was another to spot you from a broom while you were surrounded by hundreds of others pressed together and bundled up against the biting wind. You even figured that you could just tell James that you went, without actually going, and he wouldn’t know the difference.

However, when morning came, you were bundling up. You join the masses heading to the pitch. You listen to the excited chatter about how epic the match is going to be. It was Gryffindor against Slytherin after all, which always made for a good match being the natural rivals that they were. You stood pressed between your friend and one of her closer friends. They cheer louder than you did. You were more focused on trying to keep up with the game as your mind continuously drifts to James. As your mind drifts, so do your eyes. You’re confident that you watched James for at least 90% of the match. Which shouldn’t be too shocking given the amount of times he was in the midst of the action. You swore he had his hands on the quaffle during every play.

And then something happened that made your heart stop.

You swore James’ eyes found yours and then he flashed you a smile. All before proceeding to score again. Almost as if he was doing it just for you.

Which was ridiculous. He was just your Potions partner who happened to be studying a lot with you as of recently.

But still. He found you, in the middle of the crowd, where you should have been as invisible as you always were.

How? How did he see you? It’s all you could think of for the last few minutes of the game. You were so in your own head that you missed the Gryffindor seeker catching the snitch, ending the game and sealing the win for them. You let your friend drag you out of the stands as students filled the pitch. Except you didn’t follow her into the pitch. You started down the path back towards the castle, but you didn’t make it far.

The sun was shining brightly and the air wasn’t too frigid once you were hundreds of feet into the air. You veer from the path and find a nice patch of grass to sit down on. Some sunshine wouldn’t hurt. An occasional shadow passed over your face as clouds drifted across the sky. Each shadow was only momentary, a brief chill until it moved on.

Until one shadow didn’t move on. You waited a minute before opening your eyes to see how big this cloud was.

The cloud in question? James Potter. James Potter still in his quidditch uniform and sporting a smile so bright it could rival the sun itself. And he was standing in front of you.

“Potter,” you say shortly.

“Didn’t see you on the pitch after the match,” he replies, sitting down across from you.

You don’t say anything. What was there to say?

“I was hoping to see you on the pitch. Maybe get a congratulations on the win?” he says with a tilt of his head.

“You played well.” That was as close to a congratulations as he was going to get from you.

“Did you see the goal I scored for you?”

You cough. “For me?”

“Well, yes. I swore I made eye contact with you before I did it.” He pauses thoughtfully. “Or did I look at a different pretty girl?”

You swallow thickly. “No, you, erm, that was me.”

“Ah, then yes. For you. My pretty Potions partner.”

If your heart had stopped in the stands, it must’ve turned into stone now. There was no way that James just called you his pretty Potions partner.

“That’s… ah… that’s alliteration,” you manage to say despite your mouth suddenly becoming drier than the desert.

James tilts his head curiously.

“I did want to thank you,” he says. “For coming to the match. I wasn’t sure if you were going to come. Because of homework, like you said. But I hoped you’d come.” He pauses for a moment. “Did you like it?”

“The-the match or you scoring… for me?” you ask, the end of your question feeling foreign in your mouth.

People didn’t score goals for you. That didn’t happen. You were barely noticed. You were spoken over. You were forgotten about because you offered so little to conversation and friendships.

“Erm, both, I suppose.”

“The match was entertaining. Definitely a step from Binn’s lectures.”

James laughs. It was a delightfully warm sound that draws the attention of students headed to the castle.

“You scoring… for… me…” you continue, the words still feeling odd to you, “was… nice, I guess. Unexpected though.”

James nods, accepting your commentary. He understands why it came across as unexpected. It wasn’t like he had flirted with you in the library. He hadn’t asked you to Hogsmeade or a picnic or even for a measly walk through the corridors together.

“I suppose I did this a bit backwards, haven’t I?” he chuckles.

“Did what?” you ask.

“The fact that you have to ask…” He shakes his head and runs a hand through his windswept hair. “I think I want to ask you out.”

Your eyes go wide and a blush tints your cheeks pink. Your heart has been shocked back to life and is working overtime.

“You think?” you ask once you’re able to say words.

“Okay, well, I do. I want to ask you out. I’m just not sure… if I should? Would you say yes if I did?”

You’re frozen in shock. He wants to ask you out. He grows increasingly nervous when you don’t respond.

“You don’t talk much and you seem to take your studies seriously. You remind me of Remus. You know Remus Lupin, right? Good, good friend of mine. And I think you’re rather pretty. So the combination of both, I want to see if we, you know, work together,” he says all too quickly. “And now I’ve gone and scored a goal for you, which I know most people usually save for after they’ve gone steady with someone or if they’re heavily chatting them up, but you don’t seem like the kind of person to appreciate a proper chatting up so…” He took a sharp breath. “Whatdoyousay?”

You continue to stare at James. It’s a lot. You’re not really sure when he started feeling all of this and you don’t know how to express that. You also don’t know how you managed to catch his eye.

“Can I, ahem, get a nod or something? You, me, butterbeers next weekend?”

You nod slowly and that brings a brilliant grin to James’ face.

“And I’ll see you in the library all week, yeah? Can’t be falling behind in our assignments, can we?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Same table.”

“And there’s a party in the Gryffindor Common Room later, if you want to go. I don’t know if that’s your scene or not, but I’ll be there. Wouldn’t mind seeing you there. But only if you’re up to it.”

You nod, but then realize that he might take that as you agreeing that you’ll go to the party.

“Maybe. I… I need to work on Astronomy but… I’ll consider it.”

His grin gets impossibly wider and he pushes his glasses further up his nose. Then he stands up and holds out a hand to help you up.

“Then let’s get you back to the castle. Can’t work on your Astronomy if you’re out here.”

You take his hand and let him lead you inside. Something about James inviting you places makes you actually want to show up, even if a Gryffindor quidditch party is completely out of your comfort zone.

#marauders #marauders fic #marauder-misprint #request #james potter #james potter x you #james potter fluff #james potter x reader #james potter fic

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sheepispink · 3 days ago

Text

Is this a Date? ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི lt ghost x baker!reader, part of the Sweet as Sugar Series

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Summary: after your past hesitance, Simon asks you out on more of a silly date than a romantic one. Nonetheless, he begins to realise just how much you two really feel for eachother

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི a/n: fair warning that all the arcade games in this are based of the ones i go to, which are british obvs, so accurate? yes. particularly fun? probably not. Also i said chips but i know some of yall will call it fries. chips is the british word thanks for coming to my ted talk <3

PREV NEXT

———

Finally, Simon would be taking you out properly, just like he’d been trying to hype himself up to do for nearly three weeks. He gave you some time since you confessed your anxious thoughts to him, but you’re already feeling a lot better, practically radiating like the sun.

”Are you busy this week?” He considered texting you the question, but he was sitting in the cafe with you again and he just couldn’t wait any longer, half tempted to drag you out with him today.

You’re sitting opposite him in the empty shop, the closed sign bumping against the door. “Hmm.. don’t think so. My parents are taking over to give me a break.” He watches you eye the biscuit tin you leave out for him no matter how many times he insists that he doesn't always eat them, and passes you a bourbon. Your lips quirk up, a soft grin as you take a large bite into the chocolate biscuit, crumbs on your lips.

”A break huh? Well, if you haven't planned anything yet then why don't we go out?” You perk up instantly at that, a light clang of the teaspoon you just dropped on the table echoing out as the possibilities run through your head. Sure, you went to the farm and the winter festival with him, but actually going out? ..Is this a date?

“Where would we go?”

Before you know it, it’s Thursday and he’s wrapped you up in his jacket, the one he knows you love. Since you seemed to have such a great time at the festival, he figures he’d play it safe this time and take you to everyone’s favourite destination— the arcade. His decision is right, of course, confirmed by your eyes brightening as you step out of his car and he has to convince you to let him lock the car first before you start dragging him inside.

“Oooh! Let’s do the shooting!” You exclaim, pulling him along to the little booth and he picks up the fake gun, eyeing it with slight distaste. It’s not close to a real gun in the slightest, but he pushes that thought away as you grab the gun and pull a playful pose, pretending to look through the scope. “Alright, alright.” He places the coins into the slots, watching as the zombies start to approach.

Turning his brain off becomes increasingly easier with you, especially as you aren't afraid to express yourself or act the slightest bit silly, yelling at him to get the ones approaching you on the right. “Simon! I’m gonna die!” You squeal, still pretending your very best to act like a proper fighter as you dramatically move the gun around to aim at all the approaching enemies. “Got your back, love.” He mutters, already forgetting that these games are practically light work compared to anything he’s ever done before, his eyes locked onto the screen as he destroys anything coming your way. By the end of it, you’ve got your hands in the air as you cheer and even he’s grinning wide as possible.

What he didnt expect for you to call out to a random stranger, the woman’s head turning to your voice. “Excuse me, can you take a picture of us?” He has no time to argue, you’re already pulling the fake gun up to your face like some kind of secret agent all while he can hold it across his chest like he does on missions. The woman smiles and returns your phone, only for you to drag him away before he can say anything else.

The pair of you continue through the arcade, him even laughing when you fail to keep up with the dance game you insisted you were brilliant at. It’s not your fault he sneakily picked the hard mode to watch you scramble to get all the notes, but he won't admit that. Next, you drag him over to the air hockey table, a mischievous look on your face as you begin to rack up points like they’re nothing (only because you screamed “Ow!” and he immediately dropped his pusher). “That’s cheating.” You watch his eyes narrow and his stern voice comes through, and you immediately panic like a deer in headlights, eyes so wide you don't notice him pushing the puck straight into your goal. “Hey!”

This time he pulls you along, leading you to a new side of the arcade since it recently got refurbished and towards a booth that has a target behind the barrier. Curious, you raise an eyebrow before looking at the sign above. “Try beating me now.” Damnit, you know he’s smirking behind that mask and you’d be damned because watching him hurl every axe to the centre of that target had to be the definition of attractive. Unlike you, where the axe bounced off the target altogether whilst he tried his best not to stifle his laugh. It really was quite comical, the way you huffed under your breath as it continued to miss, only grazing the edge before bouncing off again. “I-it’s not funny!” He’s had to turn away from how hard he’s laughing right now, and you’re half tempted to give him a fake punch for that though you know he’d only just laugh harder. “Sorry, i’m sorry, i’ll teach you.”

He steps behind you, his hands curving over yours to help fix your lousy form into one that will definitely produce some better results. Well, at least it sticks this time.. on the edge of the target that is. “Simon!” You exclaim as he bursts out laughing again, thankful for his mask as his face is practically burning hot now. “Okay, okay—“ He adjusts you again, helping you tilt your arm back enough and aim it at the centre. Slowly stepping back, he signalls you to throw it. Your brows furrow as you concentrate, arm going a little further back before you throw it forward and it finally hits directly on the bullseye. “I did it! Look—“ You cheer, instantly spinning around to throw your arms tight around his middle as if it was something you’ve done a million times before, like it was something you’d have done for years. The touch immediately fries his harshly trained nerves, the muscles in his stomach tensing as he looks down at the sight of you squeezing him as hard as you possibly can— he can't say his stomach did not flip at least a little. You seem to notice, eyes quickly glancing up at him. Though, before you can stammer out an apology, he scoffs and pinches your cheeks. “Took you long enough.”

———

Exhausted from your escapades, he takes you to a diner. Well it’s barely anything like actual American diners but they make good burgers, so who can complain? You order your usual, and when Simon sees you eye the milkshake options for too long you end up with a tall glass of it in front of you. Meanwhile, he decides to go for something new for once, figuring the description was exaggerating, before he ends up with a giant hunk of a burger before him. “Oh.” The sight has you giggling far too much.

“Those two idiots knocked out right on me. You’d think they’re kids coming back from playcare the way they fall asleep anywhere.” He huffs, describing to you the less gruesome details of his recent deployment.

“Hmm.. Soap is the one with the mohawk right? And Gaz… the one who wears a cap all the time?” You ask, snickering from his story and he nods along, confirming your questions.

“Soap looks lively— well by what I've seen anyway. You said Gaz got his name for being quiet huh? I bet he’s one of those types who randomly have the best quips?”

Simon smiles behind the mask, intrigued by your new captivation about his teammates. Sure, he’s used to talking with you about whatever, just as he is with others. But he never really talked about himself much, at least not more than a few opinions on what he liked— he was far more interested in whatever you’d say. He just never considered you’d be so interested in what he’d say too. You’ve asked before, and he never paid much attention, but now you’re even remembering things from past conversations and expressing intrigue in his life. He might need to step outside to breathe properly again.

”Yeah, he’s definitely that type. Johnny barely wins an argument with him around; I think Cap’ even has a hard time defending himself.” You giggle again, stealing some of the ketchup from his plate with a swipe of your chip. “Do you see them all the time?”

“Yeah. Practically have our rooms right beside each other. We watch the football games in the common room.” He rolls his eyes when you coo at him, saying “aww” and smiling wide at him like he’s a kid who made his first friend or something. You really are an exception huh? He can’t even get all that mad at you when you look at him with curiosity swirling in your eyes.

“Why don't you come down with them sometime? You can bring them to the bakery.” You hum, licking the ketchup off your lip as you chomp down on your last bite of the burger. For some reason, he thought you were joking— would you really entertain a bunch of random men just for the sake of them being his friends? It didn't make sense; you didn't even know them, nor had you met more than one either. ”Pretty sure Johnny would eat all your pastries, love. It’s not worth it.”

“Well, I guess I'll just have to make extra that day then. I’m serious, y’know? Bring them around at your usual time, I'll have tea and the pastries ready.” Now that was unexpected; you were actually willing to give up some of your time to welcome his teammates, ones that he’s never even introduced you to before. Wait— did you think he was rude for not introducing you before?

”I did plan to introduce you at some point— they’re just… busy.” Wow, he actually fumbled his words for once, at this rate his chest will falter as well with the rate you keep surprising him with your genuineness. “Huh? I know, I just thought it’d be nice for them to relax a bit, have something sweet.” You hum, sipping your milkshake he bought for you, before passing the glass over to him and for some reason he doesn't hesitate, slipping your straw beneath his mask as he takes a sip himself.

He ignores the taste of your lipgloss that lingers.

—————

He drives you home soon after, walking you all the way up to your apartment door. You start slipping off your shoes, the time already growing late since you had only gotten to the arcade at five o'clock. He stands awkwardly in the doorway, knowing he should probably say his goodbyes and leave now— because he’s not yours, and you're not his.

Yet.

Your head turns, a brow raised at him curiously. “Won't you come in?” His words clog in his throat, wondering if he should accept the offer. Surely you’d be heading to sleep soon enough anyways, wouldn’t it only be an inconvenience to keep you up any longer? He’s conflicted, wanting to leave you be but ever since the last time he was here, he’s thought about your home more than he’s yearned for a second of rest, which is very often.

“It’ll be late if you drive all the way back to base now. You can just crash on my couch again.” Your hand finds his sleeve, pulling him inside before he can utter a sound against you, and closing the door behind him. “Thanks for today by the way. ..Do you wanna get brunch tomorrow too?”

He thought dating was meant to be taken slow, something that’d develop over weeks and dates were planned apart. Well, that’s how everyone said it worked. Now here you were, not even parting for him and asking for more of his time. Trying to hide the swelling of his pupils is impossible and he has to bend down to undo the laces on his shoes just to try. “Is that even a question? Of course.”

He stands once more, but you’re looking at him with lovestruck eyes, affection pouring out of every crevice as you grin and hug him again for the second time that day. “I knew you wouldn't say no. I’ll make us some tea after I get changed.” Your eyes crinkle again sparkling with something you don't even attempt to hide before you step on your tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his cheek where the mask doesn't quite cover.

Oh, so that’s what that look was—cheekiness, huh? Especially when you run away after that, scurrying into the bathroom as you snicker to himself. He looks up into the mirror in the hallway, realising his eyes have been struck wide.

————

You wander into the kitchen to start brewing the kettle, dressed in your favourite pajamas already whilst he heads to the bathroom to freshen up. He stares into your mirror, lingers of black paint still clinging onto his lashes. Should he take off his mask? It’s not like you haven't seen him sipping from his drink before, or even that time he fell asleep on the couch without pulling it down again. His fingers linger on the fabric, hesitating as his heart churns with the need to drop everything right now for you. His brain screams at him to act rationally but his gut tells him to take it slow, else he scares you off altogether. He sighs, conflicted, before a flash of light appears in the corner of his eye. Your phone had been left behind on the windowsill, a notification lighting it up. He picks it up so he can hand it back to you, only for it to flash again, the lock screen the picture of the two of you posing with your fake guns, your hand doing bunny ears behind his head. His own sits in his other hand, the picture of you with his stupidly oversized burger held up to your mischievous face flashing to life.

Maybe not today. But he’d definitely get you back for the surprise kiss, stepping out of the bathroom to sneak up behind you as you grab the milk from the fridge.

————-

PREV NEXT

Taglist:

@hidden-treasures21 @bieberismysoulmate @gallantys @tessakate @galactict3a @krispymagazinepizza-blog @silas-aeiou @kupids-arrow @enfppuff @oydan @keytofu @vogueprincess

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost fluff #ghost fanfiction #ghost x you #ghost x female reader #ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #simon ghost riley #cod x reader #cod fanfic

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illubean · 3 days ago

Text

JJK Men with a S/o in Musical Theatre

Characters: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Toji Fushiguro, Ino Takuma, Aoi Todo

Type: Headcanons, Gn!Reader

self indulgent af (im not even in theater anymore)

Warnings: it’s mentioned that reader plays female characters but other than that relatively gn

Satoru Gojo

he INSISTS that you practice in front of him (he just wants to hear you sing any chance he gets)

his favorite musical after you introduce him to it is Legally Blonde no I will not be taking criticism

sometimes walking past you in the hall he’ll sing the little musical theater song lyrics he knows very bad and very loudly

“Hi Toru-“ “A TOAST TO THE GROOM”

he comes to every single one of your shows and every show date

your production is being put on for a week? he’s got tickets to go all 7 days

and since he’s already watched it so many times he likes to snicker and gossip with you about your cast mates and how he noticed them mess up one night

without fail Satoru is always front row with his camera pointed directly at you (terrible theater etiquette I know)

if theres ever a point where you get to interact with the audience he eats it up every time

hes you’re #1 supporter and he gets you the biggest bouquet he can find every time

your cast mates are always gossiping about him, telling you how lucky you are and how they wished they got flowers every show night

very supportive but if you get in the car to go home with your stage makeup on he WILL laugh at you..

“Help me, why are your eyebrows so dark!?” “The stage lighting washes me out!”

Suguru Geto

HE’S SO JD HEATHERS CODED IM MFFHGHGNGGJGNJG

he appreciates performing arts but has never spent much time thinking about it or seeking it out if that makes sense?

he’s reluctant but he will sing parts of songs when you need to practice and can’t meet with whoever the part originally belongs to

MAKE HIM DUET SUDDENLY SEYMOUR WITH YOU. HE CAN SING EITHER PART.

if you beg and cry hard enough he might just audition for a show with you

but if he get’s casted as anyone else but your character’s love interest or worse, the love interest of SOMEONE ELSE he’s rejecting the role

he doesn’t think he’d actually ever get casted, he just auditioned because you kept bugging him about it

but if he does? god damn it now he’s stuck

you’re directors love him, and since you guys have good stage chemistry they are almost always going to cast you together if he auditions again

Kento Nanami

out of all of them I think he’s the only one who was interested in the arts before meeting you

he probably likes Les Miserables and The Phantom of the Opera

he never asks you to sing for him but if you offer or ask him to watch you practice he will gladly do so

he’s impressed by how well you perform

it amazes him how you’re able to move around, dance, and sing all while in character

he attracts the attention of your cast mates, always being so respectful

especially when he waits for you to finish getting out of costume with a bouquet and his jacket to offer you if it’s cold

he’s always invited to your open rehearsals even if its not by you 😭 your directors love him too

Toji Fushiguro

doesn’t care much for the arts but he’d be damned if he missed seeing his baby perform

no matter if you’re a lead or ensemble he WILL be there

he tends to keep to the back as to not block people’s view with his broad shoulders..

he likes watching you play characters that are so far from your usual personality

especially if you’re usually quiet, like wow he didn’t know you could project like that

he teases you after the show if you have a love interest in the show, especially if you complain about the person casted as them (no because why did I get casted as love interests with my mortal enemies 3 times)

if the show is suitable enough, he’ll bring little Megumi along to see you perform

I don’t think he’d be one to buy bouquets for you but he’d buy a single rose and let Megumi give it to you

he’d watch fondly as you pick up his son and bring him to meet the other cast members

GAH I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

Ino Takuma

he does the “raise your ya ya ya” thing around you 😭

he gets jealous if you have a love interest especially if theres a scene where you get freakay

this makes him consider auditioning for the next show you’re going to be in….

he’d watch you take photos with them and pout until you walk up to him

his favorite roles to see you in are the ones like Heather Chandler or Regina George

he may or may not be joking when he says you should be mean to him after seeing you perform…

if the show is sad he will cry then try to deny it when you point out the tear stains on his face

and if YOU’RE crying on stage? he cries even harder

he makes you karaoke with him, even though he’s getting absolutely mogged but he doesn’t mind

he just likes hearing your voice

he brags about you to anyone willing to listen

Aoi Todo

the audience hates him.

he always insists on sitting as close to the stage as possible and his large body blocks the view of the people behind him (luckily the stage is raised…)

and he’s so loud… you can always hear his shouts and applause over everyone else’s

your cast mates don’t like him either…

“Wow, your boyfriend is so…supportive”

even after the show is over and it’s time to meet you people give the two of you side eyes

“YOU DID SO GOOD MY LOVE!” “Shhh! But thank you…”

he’s so bad at being quiet 😭

another one who likes watching you play mean characters…

he has so many photos of you on his phone of you in costume and on stage

and they’re ALL in his wallpaper rotation

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pineconepie · 2 days ago

Note

Thinking about their lil darling hiding from the yanderes, not from a place of malice or something like that, just as a little prank. Maybe they left Darling for a lil bit and they got bored, so they decided to play a li prank on their dads. Now if they maybe fell asleep waiting for them to get back or not i will leave it to you uwu I feel like im flooding your inbox kekw- 🐦‍⬛

No don't worry! I love answering these haha

Octavian would freak out at first, before remembering he can just use his heightened sense of hearing and smell to find you. He would laugh about it afterward, but only after a couple minutes of sheer panic.

If you were trying to scare him, he'd pretend you got him real good even though his senses never fail him.

If he'd find you asleep somewhere he'd carry you off to bed and join you for a mid-day nap.

Vincent would immediately have his mafia members look around the mansion and in all areas of your home town. At the same time, he'd be checking security cameras and trying to figure out why you ran away. Vincent is a bit of a jokester himself, but he would take something like this seriously, which is why your attempts at scaring him would be successful, for the wrong reasons.

He'd scold you for scaring him like that, but then would soften considerably when he realizes you meant no harm, and apologize for being a meanie about it.

After that, he'd be a lot more silly n goofy next time you want to prank him :> might prank you back lol.

Indigo would call for you endlessly and look for you everywhere in the small cave. He'd get upset when he couldn't find you, afraid that you managed to somehow drown or escape. Since the caves have different paths and sections that he hadn't thought to show you yet, he's afraid you went exploring on your own.

When he finds you, he'd probably start crying out of relief, hugging you tight.

Later he'd feel dumb about how serious he took it and laugh about it with you. But he would 10/10 react the same way if you were to do it again.

Magnus would find you in an instant; since dragons naturally have heightened senses of smell and hearing, and combined with his hundreds of years of experience in hunting, you weren't able to hide very well.

He'd give you a stern lecture, but would be confused when you explain it was a prank. Pranks aren't something done much by the draconic community.

However, once the concept of pranking clicks with him, he'll try pranking you back, but his pranks are very boring. He just wants to bond with his little one more...

Seradiel at first, is actually amused. He takes his sweet time finding you, pretending to wonder aloud where his lil lamb is. However, the longer the prank goes on, the less patient he gets.

When Seradiel finally decides to look for you properly, he'd find you fairly quickly, especially if you're asleep.

If you are asleep, Seradiel would sigh dramatically, pick you up, and carry you off to bed, but he'd be very happy with everything. Anytime you act like a kid, especially the kid he remembers you as, it brings him joy.

#answered ask #parental yandere #platonic yandere #yandere

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shianis · 20 hours ago

Note

Starscream giving tiered Megatron a massage. But not romantic, calm and quiet one ,no, the harsh sport massage he personally likes, the one where you can hear hiss inner organs move, the one where you hear the human equivalent of bones cracking. He learned it back on Cybertron and it was good except it's painful during and 10 minutes after massage. It feels good after but It's painful for Megatron since he's old and Starscream likes listening to Megatron's "bones" cracking and his struggle not to cry. (It would be funny if it's prime since he has pointy elbows)

"Megatron vs. The Train"

There were few things in the universe more awe-inspiring than the mighty Lord Megatron in the heat of battle.

The Autobots had learned this lesson many times.

And today?

Oh, today was no different.

The fight had been fierce—blaster fire lighting up the sky, Energon staining the battlefield—but Megatron had grown bored.

So, naturally, he did what any warlord would do.

He picked up an entire train and hurled it at the Autobots.

Why? Because he could.

And it was glorious.

The Autobots scrambled. The train crashed down in a spectacular display of destruction. Smoke and debris filled the air, and Megatron allowed himself a satisfied smirk.

“Flawless.”

Then he took a step forward.

And immediately regretted it.

Pain shot through his back strut, straight up his spinal relays. His entire frame locked up.

The great and mighty Megatron, conqueror of Cybertron, flinched.

And that was when he knew.

He had made a grave mistake.

---

"Knockout’s Expert Medical Advice (a.k.a. ‘Suffer, My Liege’)"

Back on the Nemesis, Megatron sat on his throne, vents hissing as he tried to find a comfortable position.

He failed.

Knockout, the ever-enthusiastic Royal Medic Who Really Should Be Fired, stood beside him with a datapad, not looking as concerned as he should be.

“You threw a whole train, my lord.”

Megatron glared. “Your medical expertise astounds me, Knockout. Fix it.”

Knockout hummed, scanning him. “Mmm. Yeah. Looks like you strained something.”

Megatron’s optic twitched. “That much I know even without you!”

Knockout smirked. “Oh, I wasn’t sure. You’re usually more graceful with your train-throwing.”

Megatron growled. “Fix. It.”

Knockout sighed dramatically. “Alright, alright. Here.”

He casually handed Megatron a container of painkillers.

Megatron frowned. “…That’s it?”

Knockout shrugged. “Eh. You’ll live.”

And with that, Knockout left.

Megatron stared after him, betrayed.

---

"Starscream’s Hopes and Dreams (a.k.a. ‘Is He Finally Dying?’)"

For hours, Megatron suffered in silence.

Well.

Mostly silence.

Every few minutes, a low grunt or pained ex-vent would escape him.

And, naturally, Starscream noticed.

The seeker had been lurking around the throne room all day, listening to Megatron’s suffering with a growing sense of hope.

By the third pained grunt, Starscream was positively gleeful.

Finally. Finally. Was this it? Was one of his poisons finally working? Had he actually managed to do what no Autobot ever could?

His wings twitched in excitement.

But after several hours, it became clear that Megatron was not dying.

Just… suffering from back pain.

Starscream’s disappointment was immeasurable.

Still, the constant grunting was getting annoying.

So, with a long-suffering sigh, Starscream stepped forward. “Oh, for the love of—Do you have to suffer so loudly?”

Megatron shot him a deadly glare. “My patience is already thin, Starscream.”

Starscream smirked. “Yes, yes, I can see that. And hear it.”

Megatron growled. “Leave me.”

But Starscream had another idea.

“Oh no, my lord. I insist on helping.”

Megatron narrowed his optics. “You? Help?”

Starscream’s smirk grew. “You do know I have excellent servo control, don’t you? Precision movements, light touch…” His optics gleamed. “A massage, if you will.”

Megatron stared at him.

Everything in his very soul told him this was a trap.

But his back strut hurt.

And he was getting desperate.

“…Fine.”

Starscream beamed. “Oh, I will enjoy it so much.”

Megatron instantly regretted everything.

---

"Massage (a.k.a. This is most definitely not a trap’)"

Starscream’s claws pressed into Megatron’s back plates.

Megatron flinched.

Oh no.

Starscream worked with military precision, his servos moving in strategic patterns. His control was impressive. His technique was flawless.

But there was one, minor problem.

Starscream was all sharp angles.

It was like being massaged with knives.

Megatron bit down on his denta, resisting the urge to yell.

“This… is not pleasant.”

Starscream scoffed. “Oh, relax, lord Megatron. You’re so dramatic. It isn’t even an assassination attempt. This time.”

Megatron made a sound that was definitely not a pained yelp.

Starscream pressed harder.

Megatron seized up.

“This is agony,” he hissed.

Starscream grinned. “Good! That means it’s working.”

Megatron suffered. For twenty agonizing minutes, he endured Starscream’s precision torture.

By the end, he was this close to throwing Starscream off the ship.

When Starscream finally stepped back, he dusted off his claws, looking very pleased with himself.

“There. You’re welcome.”

Megatron took a very long, very deep ex-vent.

“…I will have my revenge for this.”

Starscream smirked. “Ohh sure you will.”

Megatron glared.

Then—POP.

His back strut suddenly shifted back into place.

The pain vanished.

Megatron froze.

“…Wait.”

Starscream tilted his helm. “Huh.”

Megatron shifted his shoulders. His optics widened.

“…It actually worked!”

#knockout #megatron #starscream #transformers #transformers prime #decepticons #tfp

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gh0st-ratt · 2 days ago

Text

Charles, Edwin and action

Putting my two cents into the dbda analysis to talk about the boys' relationship with action/movement throughout the show

Within the first episode Charles easily defines himself as the "brawn" and Edwin as the "brain". This presents Charles as what I like to call a physical response character and Edwin as a verbal response character, which reinstates what has already been shown to us as the boys dealt with the WW2 ghost: Edwin recites the Latin enchantment as Charles grapples with the ghost. By doing this, job is jobbed, case is closed etc etc.

I feel I have to mention that this almost unconscious dance between them is something that Edwin couldn't have in Hell. Movement and speaking meant being caught and torn apart. But it's also the fact that he probably wouldn't have even had anyone to talk to in Hell, and now he gets to be a part of a duo where his main role is to speak and explain knowledge.

Anyhow, this pattern continues in most things that the boys do; while at the Dandelion shrine, Edwin is the one to read the writing on the shrine and verbalises (to both characters and audience) what the intent of the Dandelion sprites is. And then Charles is the one to pick up the vase (and break it).

The Devlin House is of note because this is the first time that we see this dance fail. Edwin has explained what the Stone Tape Theory is, and now it is time to look for what might have caused the loop. This is where their roles flip, if just for a moment. Charles talks to Crystal about how he connects to Hope Devlin while reading through her diary. He understands her situation, her fear, how it feels to be struggling under your parent's command. And he actually talks about it. In that scene, Charles is the verbal response character. You could say that it's because it isn't Edwin that he's talking to that he can change his role in the dance. Crystal isn't a part of their dance as the 'brain' and 'brawn', so he doesn't have to fit into the role of the physical response character with her.

(You could go as far as to say that this unfamiliar flip of roles is what leads them astray. Edwin has completed both the verbal and physical aspects of this scenario, the dance is off. You can go even further to say that Edwin didn't even complete the physical aspect correctly, he got the wrong trigger, he's not used to being the character of action)

It is then after all this, still in the Devlin house, that Charles steps back into being the physical response character when he attempts to attack Mr Devlin. This is the first time that the boys completing their roles has completely backfired. (You could argue with Esther, being hit back was just the response of a typical fight. You go to hit and you miss and get hit back.) Charles attempting his role as the 'brawn' takes him out of commission entirely, because there isn't that balance. He hasn't actually spoken about much and instead internalised it for 30+ years, and now uses that emotion to act. And it doesn't work.

Charles never really seems to make actions about himself, and the times he does? It never really works out for him. The Devlin house takes him out of commission, and the Lighthouse Leapers have his friends reject him for his actions (I might talk about this another time). Even his kiss with Crystal that he instigated doesn't go anywhere.

An interesting note is that the times when Charles is much more passive in his actions is with his relationship with Crystal. He initiates the kiss first, but even before that he's almost tiptoeing around what Crystal might want or not want (I've seen a few people talk about this better than I could so I won't get too into it).

It's only really until after he and Crystal break it off that he starts really being a man of action for himself and not just others. He argues to not take Monty's case, he calls Crystal out on her lies about her powers, he stands on his decision to not let Crystal go to Hell. He's not being passive about what he might want and how it might clash with what others want.

Charles' arc and connection to his relationship with action kind of ends at the end of ep5 (Dead Dragons) when Edwin says "Let's get [Charles] sorted first" and they never really go back to Charles' arc lol

Edwin's relationship with his role as the verbal response character is interesting because part of his arc is about how he cannot verbalise what he is wanting. The Case of the Lighthouse Leapers makes that abundantly clear. To Niko he denies by "Absolutely not" wanting to kiss the Cat King, and he doesn't know what he wants with Monty. The Cat King has to literally spell him to get Edwin to admit what he wants from the agency ("[He] can make [his] case for leniency").

Edwin can explain anything for a case, anything for knowledge, but he does not like verbalising his wants. We see him struggle with this towards Monty at the swing set, he "-thinks it best if [they] stop seeing one another", but he also isn't sure if that's what he actually wants. It then!! Continues!! As Edwin begins to say what he wants, that there are "-feelings. That [he] thought were never to be spoken of.", Monty swoops (ha) in as the physical character in that moment, sealing it with a kiss.

But Edwin didn't finish! He as the spoken character has not finished his role before the action response occurs! And it doesn't work. The dance isn't working, they're stepping on each other's feet.

We then reach the Case of the Creeping Forest, wherein Edwin's feelings for Charles are, at this point in the narrative, one of the main things he cannot verbalise. So instead, Monty verbalises it! He is the one to finally state that "Those feelings that [Edwin has]? Are for Charles. He is the one [Edwin loves].".

(As I'm writing this I'm realising that Monty actually creates his own role as both a physical and verbal response character within like two weeks of being human compared to 2 oldass ghosts good for him)

Edwin's feelings for Charles have been established by the way he typically acts (with words), but not by himself, because he cannot do that. He has spent so long denying himself and avoiding verbalising anything akin to his own wants that he still cannot say it.

But then it is Charles' turn to establish how he feels for Edwin with his typical: actions. And how does this occur? With Charles' putting his hand over Edwin's as they are dragged by Teethface. It doesn't matter if the feelings being presented are or aren't exactly the same, it's still love. It's part of their dance. Edwin's perspective has been spoken, and then it's time for Charles' perspective to be acted on, and both times it means that they love each other.

Edwin's relationship with expressing want is also tied into his changing of clothes in ep6. One of the first things we are told about Edwin is that he "-[doesn't] like to try new things", but we see him in ep6 trying something new for Charles. This is Edwin, unable to express how he feels quite yet, but acting on something new.

Hell is really where the boys' relationship with action and movement turns almost entirely on it's head, because Edwin is Back In Hell so he can't really be the words or actions character, which leaves it for Charles to be both; which we've seen mess up in the past, but it works in Hell.

Charles gets to Hell fine, (he acts on ringing that bell impulsively because why not), he finds Edwin, he tells him they will get out, and then he is able to leave again! In the entirety of Hell Charles is able to go back and forth between a physical and verbal response character like he hasn't previously.

This then ties into our favourite myth of Orpheus and Eurydice.. and media illiteracy. The audience and Edwin know how the myth ends "-That story ends tragically.". That's the point of the myth, it's a tragedy. But Edwin (brains, words, verbal) finished the story and cannot choose their own ending. He's stuck with the understanding that the story never ends well, but he still acts on it.

In this story, Eurydice physically forces Orpheus to look, with the understanding that it could still end tragically.

Edwin forces Charles' to turn back to him and he finally finally acts on what he has been feeling to say "Charles, I'm in love with you", knowing it's a tragedy.

But Charles (brawn, actions, physical) did not finish the ending and therefore has the agency to change it. But he changes it with words. He turns around and he says "You're the most important person in the world to me" and he says "We have literally forever to figure it out".

Edwin and Charles, despite living in their unconscious dance roles of 'brain' and 'brawn', respectively, for 3 decades, swap their roles for the first time successfully in the show when Edwin takes a leap to act on his feelings and Charles responds with nothing but kind words and the reminder that their story doesn't have to be a tragedy, and they do this all on the steps of literal Hell because what wouldn't they do for each other.

#dead boy detectives #hey sorry this is batshit long #tried to get images to make it more interesting but i couldn't find them ANYWHERE #stay tuned for analysis of colour ig #i'm sure my old lit teacher is thrilled i'm using his teachings to analyse gay ghosts on the internet #save dead boy detectives #dbda analysis #charles rowland #edwin payne #the case of the devlin house #the case of the lighthouse leapers #the case of the creeping forest #the case of the very long stairway #zero says thingz

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bjwmastermind-writes · 5 hours ago

Text

shared desk - bucky barnes x reader

A/N: This just came up while I was looking for a place to work, I mainly go to coffee shops but I’ve been meaning to go to one of these spaces. Hope you enjoy reading!!

no warnings here! (at least for now)

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Your job demanded a lot of time, and while the pay was excellent and the stress levels were bearable, it was very lonely. Yes, you worked with a team, but that team was scattered across the world—Igor was in Warsaw, Pam was in Miami, Héctor was in Puerto Rico, and Steven was five states away.

Working from home had its perks. If you were sick or had your period, you could just stay curled up in bed and work from there. But on days when the sky was clear and the sun was warm, you were stuck inside, staring at screens. Podcasts and radio shows became your companions, voices filling the silence as you typed away at lines of code or designed whatever the clients needed. But it had been a while since you worked alongside actual people.

You had heard about coworking spaces—coffee shops or shared offices where people in your situation could work without feeling so isolated. Maybe, just maybe, you could even make a friend or two.

That’s how you found yourself in a coworking space on a Tuesday morning, clutching your overpriced coffee like a lifeline…It had taken weeks of deliberation—Googling “coworking near me,” checking out reviews, debating whether it was worth putting on real pants. But the silence of your apartment had become too loud, so here you were.

The place was warm, buzzing with quiet productivity. People sat in clusters, laptops open, occasional murmurs passing between them. It felt... alive. And maybe, just maybe, you needed that.

You picked a seat near the window, set down your laptop, and exhaled. Okay. This wasn’t so bad.

And then, someone took the seat across from you.

You noticed him peripherally first—broad shoulders, dark hair falling slightly over his forehead, black Henley hugging his arms in a way that made her brain short-circuit. His presence was quiet but not unnoticeable, something about him was both composed and intense. He dropped his bag on the chair beside him and pulled out a notebook, flipping it open before glancing at you.

“First time here?”

His voice was low, rough—like he didn’t use it often.

You blinked, surprised that he’d even spoken to you. “Uh, yeah. Is it that obvious?”

He smirked slightly, tapping his pen against the page. “A little. You look like you’re waiting for someone to tell you what to do.”

You huffed a small laugh. “It’s been a while since I worked around people.”

He nodded as if he understood that more than you knew. “You get used to it. Just gotta pretend no one’s here after a while.”

You weren’t sure that was possible, not when he was sitting right across from you. But you nodded, pretending you were unaffected, opening your laptop and trying to focus on the screen instead of the way his fingers tapped absently against the table.

For a while, you two worked in silence.

Then, your laptop froze.

You sighed, tapping at the trackpad in frustration. When that failed, you let your forehead drop against the table with a dramatic groan.

A chuckle rumbled from across you. “That bad?”

“I think my laptop is testing my patience.”

“Here,” he said, getting up and walking around the table. “Let me take a look.”

You were about to tell him it wasn’t necessary, but before you could, he leaned down, close enough that you caught the scent of something clean and slightly woody. He pressed a few keys, fingers moving with practiced ease, and within seconds, the screen unfroze.

You gawked at him. “How did you—?”

His smirk deepened. “Secret.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, unimpressed by the mystery. “You’re one of those IT geniuses, aren’t you?”

He huffed a laugh, retreating back to his seat. “Not exactly. Just good with tech.”

You tilted your head, studying him now. “And what do you do? Or is that a secret, too?”

He looked at you for a moment, then—almost reluctantly—said, “Freelance security consulting.”

Your brows lifted. “That sounds... intense.”

A shadow of something flickered across his expression before he shrugged. “It can be.”

He didn’t elaborate, and for some reason, you didn’t push. Instead, you gave him a nod. “Well, thanks for saving my laptop’s life. I owe you one.”

He smirked. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

And just like that, the air shifted. Less intimidating. Less unfamiliar.

Maybe this coworking thing wasn’t so bad after all.

The hours seem to pass quicker than usual. Maybe it’s the feeling of company.

You steal glances at each other during that time—sometimes catching him watching you while you’re working, other times your gaze lingers on him, completely focused on his laptop or writing in his notebook. His brow furrows when he’s deep in thought, pen tapping absently against the page, and there’s something oddly mesmerizing about it.

Neither of you speaks much, but the silence feels... comfortable. Like an understanding, neither of you had to say out loud.

Time slipped by unnoticed. The gentle murmur of voices and the rhythmic clacking of keyboards faded as the sun dipped below the horizon. You hadn’t realized how late it was until you looked up and found the place nearly empty.

Nearly.

He was still there.

Stretching your arms over your head, you sighed quietly and started packing up. The sound must have caught his attention because he glanced over.

"Heading out?"

"Yeah, I think I’ve done enough damage for the day," you said with a small smile. "Do you always stay this late?"

"Sometimes." He leaned back in his chair, stretching in a way that only made him look unfairly good. "I work better when it’s quiet."

You nodded, slinging your bag over your shoulder. "Makes sense."

As you made your way toward the door, you hesitated—just for a second—before glancing back at him. "See you around?"

His smirk was lazy and confident. "I’m here most days."

You nodded, ignoring the way your heart did something weird in your chest before stepping outside into the night.

The next day

The coworking space felt different today. Maybe it was because you had a reason to look forward to it.

You told yourself it was just the change of scenery. That’s why you left your apartment early, grabbed your usual overpriced coffee, and took the same spot by the window. It definitely wasn’t because you were wondering if he would show up.

But then—he did.

Same black Henley, same effortless presence. He spotted you instantly, and instead of taking the seat across from you, he surprised you by sitting right next to you.

"You’re back," he said, voice just low enough that it sent a small shiver down your spine.

You tilted your head, meeting his gaze. "So are you."

He smirked. "Guess we’re both creatures of habit."

A while later, he stretched, rolling his shoulders before leaning toward you slightly. “Lunch break soon?”

You blinked at him. “I—uh, I guess?”

That smirk again, like he could see the hesitation in your eyes, like he expected it. "Good. You owe me one, remember?"

You narrowed your eyes playfully. "Oh, this is your way of collecting payback?"

He shrugged, feigning innocence. "Figured I’d cash in while I can."

You bit back a smile.

“Fine,” you said, pretending to be reluctant. “But if I buy you lunch, that means we’re even.”

“We’ll see about that,” he murmured, standing up and waiting for you to follow.

You rolled your eyes, but deep down, you knew you’d already lost.

Hope you enjoyed this one-shot! 💻☕✨ I had so much fun writing this!

What do you think happens next? Does their “totally casual” lunch turn into something more?

If you’d like a part two, let me know! I’d love to explore this further (and maybe add some tension outside of the coworking space… 👀🔥).

Thanks for reading! 💛 Reblogs, likes and comments help a lot! Please don’t steal my work or post it without credit.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #winter soldier #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky fluff #one shot fanfic #bucky one shot #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction

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misakiisstupid · 1 day ago

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Wayne Enterprises Internal Memo – Emergency Meeting Transcript Date: [REDACTED] Time: 03:47 AM (Because why would an emergency meeting happen at a reasonable time?) Location: Batcave Conference Room Attendees: Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Oracle (remotely) Special Guest: Dr. Misaki Eto

BEGIN TRANSCRIPT

Dr. Misaki Eto: [sipping tea, visibly unimpressed] Alright. Who called an emergency meeting at three in the morningbecause of a social media issue?

Tim Drake: [dead inside, holding an energy drink] It’s an engagement emergency. Nobody is commenting on the therapy post.

Jason Todd: [leaning back, arms crossed] Right. And this required DEFCON 1?

Dick Grayson: [soft gasp] Of course, it does! No comments means no interaction, no interaction means the algorithm buries it, and that means—

Barbara Gordon (Oracle): —less reach, fewer shares, and ultimately, fewer people seeing it.

Bruce Wayne: [clears throat] I fail to see how this is our problem.

Tim Drake: [snaps up to look at him, eyes wild] You don’t understand. It’s never happened before. The Batfam gets comments. The Therapy Series gets comments. Where are the people? Have they been kidnapped? Are they avoiding it? Are we shadowbanned?!

Damian Wayne: [arms crossed, unimpressed] Tt. You are all pathetic. It is an internet post. Who cares?

Dick Grayson: [gasps louder] Damian! It’s about engagement!

Dr. Misaki Eto: [raises hand] Okay, real talk—did anyone check if the site is down?

Tim Drake: [furiously typing] I did. Tumblr is fine. Engagement on other posts is normal.

Jason Todd: [grinning] Maybe they’re just afraid to comment after reading what you wrote. Y’know, intimidated.

Barbara Gordon: [thoughtful] That actually might be a thing. If it was an especially intense post, people might just likeit but not know what to say.

Dick Grayson: [dramatic sigh] We should’ve baited them with a “reblog if you relate.” Rookie mistake.

Bruce Wayne: [pinching the bridge of his nose] So what do you suggest we do?

Dr. Misaki Eto: [shrugs] Well, normally, I’d say just keep posting and it’ll pick up traction again. But since we’re clearly operating in full Bat-level paranoia mode, we could also just—

Tim Drake: —Stage a social experiment?

Jason Todd: —Threaten them?

Barbara Gordon: —Do a follow-up post?

Dick Grayson: —Make a meme about it?

Dr. Misaki Eto: …You know what? Do all of those. See what works.

Bruce Wayne: [deep sigh] I am far too tired for this.

Damian Wayne: [muttering] You are all disgraceful.

Tim Drake: [typing furiously] Okay, operation revive engagement is a go. Give it 24 hours. If nothing changes—

Dr. Misaki Eto: —Then what? Another emergency meeting?

Tim Drake: …Obviously.

Jason Todd: [laughs] Oh, this is gonna be fun.

END TRANSCRIPT

Next Steps:

Tim: Experiment with different post formats to boost engagement.

Dick: Meme the situation.

Jason: Threaten the algorithm within legal parameters.

Barbara: Monitor post analytics.

Dr. Misaki Eto: Continue questioning why she agreed to this in the first place.

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noirsdoll · 2 days ago

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I am LOVING your "Jimmy gets out of prison" AU, you capture him so well. Why do I have the feeling that Jimmy won't actually get a job just to spite Anya (he doesn't want to pay her child support). Also hearing that he isn't speaking to Curly, I can totally imagine it's Jimmy who refuses to speak to Curly because Curly told him he has to take responsibility of what he's done, Jimmy literally has 100+ missed calls from Curly ;_;

Ooh I can imagine the drama if Reader/Jimmy run into Curly and Anya somewhere (they're not together but Curly wants to help Anya and the baby)...

THANK YOUUU OMG its just a dumb idea that i cant stop thinking abt LMAO thinking abt babies a lot so this is like very baby centric IDK just anya as a mom cw for referenced abuse but like barely at all... enjoy!! not shipping curly and reader btw reader is loyal unlike jimmy... first part. second part.

You’re on baby duty today, and safe to say, you’re excited.

Anya has the cutest baby ever— a cheerful little monster that latches onto your finger and coos and makes all those adorable noises. It never fails to have your baby fever running high.

You’ve always wanted kids, but something’s always stopped you. You think it might be because of Jimmy— what he might say or do to them. And the way he gets with you, when he gets angry and nothing can console him.

You walk up to the door of her cozy little burnt-sienna house. The garden is overgrown with yellowing plants, and clusters of dandelions are sprinkled across the lawn. No time to garden with a toddler, unfortunately.

Knocking on it, you assume to see what you always do— Anya beaming at you with her kid balanced on her hip, warm earth tones and crisp silver jewellery.

Instead, your eyes drag up to a man you’ve never seen before— who looks equally as shocked to see you.

His frame is blocking most of the doorway, but you peek past it to the sliver of Anya you see in the living room. “I didn’t know you had company over,” you start, “I can come over another time.”

She smiles, “Oh, it’s no problem at all! Come on in!”

The man moves out of the way and lets you in. Your eyes lock onto the kid, who’s surrounded by an assortment of colourful blocks. You take a seat next to her and watch her tiny face light up at the sight of you.

“That’s just Grant,” Anya explains, “he helps out every once and a while.”

Grant? Like, Jimmy’s friend Grant? The guy that cut him off? “Oh, from your time on the Tulpar?” You glance over your shoulder as he moves to join you both.

“Yeah. Grant, this is—”

“You’re Jimmy’s girlfriend, right?” He’s staring like he has a problem with you. What’s his deal?

You just nod, trying to scope him out. “Yeah, I am.”

Both of you look at each other for a moment, all while Anya’s daughter suckles on a wooden block. Anya breaks the silence eventually, making a show of checking her watch and getting to her feet. “Looks like it’s feeding time for you, cutie.” She picks up her baby and smacks a big kiss on her head, who gurgles happily in return. She turns to you. “I’ll be a moment. You two should get to know each other.”

As she disappears down the hall, you turn back to Grant. He frowns some more, before he finally says. “I heard Jimmy got out around a month ago— is everything going alright?”

You blink at him, shocked. Why does he care? Isn’t this the man that Jimmy claimed to have abandoned him? “Yeah, it’s fine.”

“He hasn’t… done anything to you, has he?” Grant steps forward and places a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to be soothing. The second you freeze, he pulls it right back.

“What are you saying?” You say, anger rising in your voice. You just met this guy like five minutes ago and he thinks he knows everything about you.

“Sometimes he… realizes what he’s doing only after he’s done it.” He glances down the hall. “With Anya... I just don’t want something like that to happen again. He frowns. “Let me know, okay? I can—”

“Our relationship is none of your business,” you snarl. This prick has the toughness of marshmallows— what could he ever do to affect Jimmy?

Finally seeming to sense your annoyance, he backs off. “Alright, alright. We don’t have to talk about it. Just tell the guy to pick up his phone every once and a while.”

“You’ve been calling him?”

He nods. “Yeah, I’ve been calling for the last two weeks. I tried to when he was in the compound, but he must’ve redirected them or something, ‘cause I couldn’t reach him.”

“He said that he…”.

Grant perks up at that. “What did he say?”

You shake your head. “Nothing.”

Anya comes back around the hall with a newly energized toddler in her arms. “Who’s ready to play?!”

Grant glances at you one last time. “I mean it, though. Call me, text me, anytime.”

You nod, off put by him just as much as you are endeared. You focus on Anya’s adorable baby girl, ignoring the buzzing of your phone in your back pocket as Jimmy realizes you aren’t home like you said you would be.

#mouthwashing #mouthwashing jimmy #jimmy mouthwashing #jimmy x reader #jimmy x you #mouthwashing x reader #mouthwashing x you #anya mouthwashing #mouthwashing x y/n #mouthwashing anya #🕸️—asks #🕸️—drabbles

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