#basically going “these two suck but hey third time's the charm with you”
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how tonight's mod messages have me feeling
#aqw#aqworlds#losing it!#side note i love how a good portion of the vdk questline is just the mysterious stranger being the pulchure family's no. 1 hater#basically going “these two suck but hey third time's the charm with you”
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Oh hey let's do a rabid fire sesh of a few projects I did over the past few months 'cause these smaller ones don't need their own posts
Starting with the oldest; a basic ass red scarf. I had bought yarn, wanted to make a blanket, decided this wasn't the yarn for that project (mainly because I did not feel like buying like 200€ worth of this yarn to have enough FOR a blanket), turned it into a scarf instead. It is nice. And then the latest, as in "I finished this today"; a basic, small crochet rug. Mom had made these double-layered seat cushions years ago, and they were nasty, so much so that just washing them and dusting them would not clean them (because of being double layered, there was just dust inside the cushions). So instead of throwing them out I unraveled them to reclaim the yarn and turned it into a rug instead. It's a basic moss stitch rug, not very large, but it is quite soft (tube yarn). Though the texture of the yarn made crocheting it quite unpleasant, 0/10, would not do this again (with this yarn).
So if you remember, I had this pink yarn leftover from my first crochet sweater-turned-first knit sweater. Didn't have much to do with it, so I just knit that yarn into a single large panel. Then, reclaiming some fabric from an old button-up shirt (it had really bad stains on it elsewhere), I got a matching panel that I then attached together. I grabbed an old pillow I had absolutely shredded (as in "the filling is just loose lumps of polyester bouncing around"), stuffed it into the new pillowcase and boom. New cat bed for Honey. It's been done for a few months now and I can confirm, she absolutely loves it, which is all that matters. (I didn't sew the pillowcase shut because I wanted to make it easy to clean if necessary)
Then! Idiot's first try at embroidery! It sucked ass!
IDK I had wanted to try embroidering like small charms/pins for a while so I ended up caving in and got some felt and embroidery floss to try it out. I did keep on telling myself it was my first time so it was going to turn out bad most likely and to not worry about it, but man. It turned out so bad. I was so disappointed. It just looks so messy?? I can't tell if it's piss poor technique or poor color choises either (probably both let's be real)
But I kept on trying. Second attempt I forgot to take process photos but it was pretty much the same (I did have a delightful time trying to figure out how to "sketch" the moth onto the felt with thread because I couldn't actually draw onto it, it was too dark). Still hated how it turned out. Still decided to give it a third short, this time choosing to use some absolutely ANCIENT sewing thread instead of embroidery floss. (Also experimented using some extra felt to add "layers" to the thing, though in the end it wasn't noticable at all lol)
I still think it turned out horrible, but also definitely my favorite of the three. I am not immune to the Power of Penk I guess. But hey, I did manage to sell two of these for 50 cents each at a convention lmaooo
#Moon posting#Knitblr#Crochetblr#Yarnblr#Embroidery#Mandatory ''This was a DIY blog before a fandom blog!!'' disclaimer#Long post#Yarncraft Diary#Of these projects in particular although the scarf is the most useful probably my favorite is still the cat bed.#I just get so happy when I see Honey napping on it
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another rant: hey guess who's back!
was and am still going through some hyperfixation moments but persona5 will always stands strong for some reason?? no clue what sorta chokehold that franchise has on me but i homebrewed our old 3ds and now im playing q2 on it (rando side note but i might get my own computer soon!) its all fun and games.... a bit but i was playing through some of it and now i have things to say! more shit to talk, how exciting
i should be doing my homework yes, but i find it interesting the clash of games because each persona game is literally so different and they are all so of the time. persona as a franchise taught me that video games are rly nothing special and the person franchise is like the least of that like all the games are just what everyone else is doing at the time even from the first one ToT but i think the 90s cunt that the personas serve in the first 2games couldve been such a staple for the later games and no, the chokehold of being trendy and relevant and like..."relatable"... very embarrassing so again, its interesting to see those all clash. i love persona 3 a lot because i genuinely believe that out of all the persona games, that one is truly the best. i havent seen the 1st one yet and i will never in my life ever say persona 4 as it is objectively not the best one but i think the 3rd part just has the best ending and the best sense of everything all the games offer and offered afterwards in one and i appreciated it alot for that and it was such a beautiful ending like when i finished it, it was such an experience i truly felt i could move on from how disappointed i honestly was with the fifth part but to further my point, i love the way they summoned personas in the third part even if it was uhm. violent. i think it had a charm and such a sense of uniqueness and it brought up a lot of bigger questions about how we view ourselves, our "personas" and the way they get affected by society which all play into the people we are and become and all that.
i think one reason i rly hate the fourth game is because of just that. the game talks about the person you "truly are" or whatever by literally feeding into societal norms and pushing the made up "laws" that are placed on human emotions that are so vast and complex to even have one think about. its so ridiculous and not that persona3 really does a better job at that either but i think the whole gun thing and the implications/substance that could be dissected within that is again, what gives it its charm. for example, shinjiro and strega's story was there to introduce how difficult it was to control one's persona, that you were practically being held hostage and it almost was like a separate entity within oneself. now, i dont personally like that all that much because again, its still you and the way the game handles it feels very action movie early 00s were the plots always just. divert completely somehow but again, the implications are what save it. i know shinjiro's storyline was nothing of that sort at all but all the scenes with mitsuru and akihiko and even ken bring in such a different perspective. we see this emo loner (lol) who basically does drugs to control all the crap thats going on inside of him and we see the way these two smart kids who've always had it relatively easy in that aspect pressure him and handle what he goes through all in the wrong ways. it feels almost like an allegory for growing up, pretty straightforward but i feel like that sense of realness is what the rest lacked. no more queerbait, no more fan service, yea theres quite a lot of it in persona3 definitely but hey, we all know high school sucks and a lot of it... isnt pretty. the whole idea that you need to find a way to handle the mental and control that "being" inside of you is done soo much better than anything in persona5
i know that technically, the way they handle the personas in persona5 is much better with the whole outfit thing and even with anything and everything, i think the way they handled akechi's personality thing was pretty well considering.. many things ToT but it just feels so too the nose, nothing about it feels special. it doesnt give us suicide allegories (lmao) it doesnt give us any genuine stories. i feel like even though so many of the individual character plotlines are so heavy, like ann's (hello??) and akechi's are so real and terrifying in a way that that happens to so many people constantly, just all of them really and none of them ever really make you feel like something deep for them, yk what i mean? i cried so much for ken and shinjiro, it was soo embarrassing but it made you feel so much for ken, even if that whole situation was very unrealistic, i think the way they handled it in the beginning was wonderful. nobody ever really said anything or suspected much but ken was going through so much all at that time, shinjiro was always there for him but never said anything either and of course, with nothing to stop it, time took its course and things ended the way they did. as tragic as it was, those were the consequences that followed him through the cracks of no confrontation. even to aigis dealing with her robotic brain lol and her lack of emotion, lack of humanity towards the world. such an unrealistic situation but the implications made it what it was, aigis is such a staple for us neurodivergent folks and i know autistic people love her lol. her character meant so much to me because i related so much to her rather than i did with futaba, who is actually a human being
when they unlock their personas, you dont see struggle, you dont see will. its tough, having to accept who you are and continue to brace through it. even being shot a bullet to the head, yukari for example, was still scared to accept herself even if she knew what life had in store for it. she didnt want to relive that trauma with her father and know the truth but she knew that she had to if she wanted to move forward and be the better person. like idk it just means so much more. again, you dont see that same struggle and the costumes dont even reflect who they really are and even if it could, you would never know. mind you i never finished any of the confidants but damn i managed to learn so much of the p3 characters and connect with them only through my first playthrough and that says enough. even doing ryuji's confidant (which i love btw omg) i slowly started to let go of that love for him and his story with the dirt they pay him afterwards its just so lazy. i love that concept from the 3rd game, even the way they handled arcs in p2 was better, i dont like they way they acted about the personas but i feel like that combination into the 3rd part that focused on all aspects was something that DEFINITELY shouldve been kept and NOT turned into whatever persona4 was good lord!
ok so thats all i have to say for today, ill been either knocking out (and severely regretting it in the morning) or drawing for a bit...then knocking out! life is such a mystery sometimes amirite (cries my eyes out) rough week, but q2 has been fun so far much better than starting q1, i am never going to be free from p5r chains! lord have mercy on my soul! heres some pictures i took of the 3ds to accompany this horrifying rant :')
like the whole determined line.. ugh i love it! it really encapsulates what the whole persona thing stands for! like yes! this is about us discovering our true selves! us becoming better people! us embracing who we are through the power of connection to the world around us! like ugh, yes life is beautiful how did you know??? i love it..... persona 3 you will always be famous... and you too femc you deserve better every redditor who calls her a pedo is like. omfg get a hobby (a job and wife too while youre at it) i bet you call naoto a woman you fuckass loser smh
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Story Pile: My Hero Academia, Season 4
Story Pile: My Hero Academia, Season 4
Alright, now we’ve hit our stride, we’ve done most of the set-up stuff required to have stories and character information all out there. The major characters are all laid out, we have a villain on the horizon waiting to happen to people, and we just had an introduction of some new boundary characters, so it’s time to immediately do something with all of those. This is a series that has got a handle on the basic ideas of what it’s going to do, and each season can be snapped apart into a few short story arcs you can consider on their own.
There’s something to the experience of enjoying My Hero Academia, season to season. It’s got all the joy of a catchy pop song, popcorn playful and full of classic shonen anime battle feelings, but this pop song also includes a few slurs? And probably says something condescending about women. Basically, I’m enjoying it but I’m sure as hell not going to defend it.
What we get in this season is some high drama with a big battle, one of those stories that focus on the characters in the setting dicking around with the infrastructure that exists to deal with the commonality of superpowers, and then an absolute top-tier banger of a story arc about excellent nearly-zero-stakes hero bullshit.
I’m going to talk more about it and that’s going to involve spoilers, so, below the fold!
The first arc (the Shie Hassaikai arc) is a real solid rendition of something the genre does well. It’s a villain that gets attention and then the heroes who can be mustered quickly engage with it. It’s got a good personal connection to the inciting incident, with Mirio and Midoriya meeting Eri and needing to get involved. It’s got an escalation of the threat, and the enemy organisation is presented as exactly that — an organisation of people, with limited communication and means to take advantage of one another.
This was a mix of good and bad parts. There’s a bunch of questions of like ‘hey, why are you here?’ characters – like Bubble and Nighteyes – and a bunch of ‘hey, they’re here, this rules,’ – like Twice and Toga and Mirio and Ryuuki. The final villain fight even ended earlier than I thought it would, and put some real serious pathos into how it handled Mirio losing his powers. Like it’s very ‘boo hoo, I don’t get to be a superhero any more’ in a setting like that, but it’s still showing something of a serious loss of a character.
The second arc (the Remedial License Arc) continues the way this universe seems to think you don’t get to be taught things before you’re tested on them. The way Bakugo and Todoroki react to being asked to do things in a class environment makes it seem like it’s the first time they’ve heard the idea mentioned, and that either makes them poor students (and they’re not, Todoroki scores very well) or it means their class is failing them in a big, fundamental way. The idea here is great — show you can command trust and respect. I like that!
The biggest concern here is the focus on Endeavour and his inner life, because Endeavour sucks.
The third arc (the Gentle Villain Arc) is about an ancient, withered husk of a man who starts his youtube career in the silvery fragility of his eldest days, ie, in his thirties, and speaking as someone who did that, yeah, it feels really pointless. But this arc is about a single self-styled gentleman villain who wants to try and breach the UA campus because he believes that villains are the ones who change the world and heroes react to improve the world because of them — he’s charming as hell. Meanwhile, Deku wants to make sure this doesn’t become an incident because if it does then the whole school fair that’s about to happen gets shut down, and that means Eri doesn’t get to have a normal school day and candy apples and learning to smile.
The Gentle Hero arc represents two things this series has direly lacked: Something where the stakes are vitally important to our protagonists, and something where the stakes for the world are not dire. It shows a story where being a superhero means your solutions to problems get to be big, high scale things like rubberised buildings bouncing people off the walls and love-powered sandwiches of air, but the core of what they’re addressing are still things like saving one little girl’s smile. Good! Stuff!
By the way, if you’re curious, La Brava is 21, and Gentle is 32. It’s a gap but it’s also not nearly as bad as it looks considering La Brava looks like you asked a porn artist to design a lawn gnome.
The idea of having to break a hero’s spirit resulting in explaining things in combat is a good one. Fatgum explains it to Red Riot at one point, that the reason heroes talk about their powers, the reason they explain to enemies what won’t work is to cut off their options and to bring fights to a close quicker. It can demoralise an enemy, it can make sure they know what won’t work, and force them to confront what they can’t get away with. It’s good! It’s good because it also fulfills an important thing in the context of a story that’s about how and why interesting combat abilities interact, by letting you, the viewer, find out what is going on, what those combat abilities are and what they do without pulling the story to a halt and presenting an essay on combat stuff.
Oh, while we’re heaping praise for how it depicts and explains powers? Mirio’s powers are dope as shit, he doesn’t need One For All! He just needs to keep doing good! Oh wait, hang on, that didn’t work out so well. But still, the loss of his powers is the loss of something meaningful: His powers were cool, he worked hard on them, and they let him do something he wanted to do that we can look at as a fundamental good!
Twice and Toga showed up in the first arc here, and they’re still great, but not only are they great, but they did two things I really liked. One, they got super mad at Overhaul for misgendering Magne after her death, and two, the second they weren’t having fun dealing with the yakuza, they bounced. It was really nice because it plays with the idea of these characters having their own inner lives, and I think the fact we see those is why I think those two characters are amongst the best villains. We know what they think, and why they think it. We have an idea of their values, that’s cool.
Finally, and this isn’t really a thing the series is doing, just something I personally find funny, Nighteyes sucks and dies, and the last thing he learns as he dies, is that he was totally wrong about how his powers worked for his entire life. Like, how many plans and positions and projects did he dissuade people from trying because he was so sure that his power was right and there was only one way the future could work out, only to find that it turns out, nope! The future is yet unwritten and his powers didn’t work the way he thought they did.
Wait, though, hang on, it can’t just be an unalloyed good, right? Well, of course not, no as the fact I was delighting in the death of All Might’s former sidekick with a vibe of ‘eat shit and die.’ There’s a bunch of stuff in this season that builds on previous bad decisions, and the introduction of some new, equally bad decisions. Mineta is still here, for example, and he’s not changing — the closest you can claim to some kind of redemption or adjustment to the character is how he said something, just one thing in this whole season, which wasn’t revolting. It’s still a series where Bakugo, Todoroki and Midoriya are central, important characters who act on the world and who we’re meant to be invested in, and their powers all boil down to a form of punch a guy.
The story still features almost nothing for women to do on their own, even women with amazing and cool powers, because they are simply not chosen by the story to do the important things, and it’s just a coincidence that women do not have powers that can be simplified to punching a guy. There’s sexual harrassment (you do not get to put your coworkers in bondage equipment when they are explicitly asking not to) which is framed as a quirky thing for a particular ideological position and not, y’know, a crime.
This season is still fundamentally just My Hero Academia, and it’s just not going to do anything to change that.
There are still however two special things in this season that really ticked me off and I wanted to highlight them. First of all, this season spent more time focusing on Endeavour. I can’t say for sure but I’m pretty confident that this is the first time we’ve been seeing things from Endeavour’s perspective, with his inner life presented to us as a relatable position, and that’s a thing that suggests that this story thinks that this guy is a guy we should be able to empathise with. Sure, whatever, of course, this series seems to think that whatever it was he did wasn’t that bad and therefore the whole physical and emotional abuse of his wife and children is a thing that you can be redeemed from.
I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about this, particularly in that there’s a lot of effort being put into making Endeavour relatable, to make his pain and the complexity it represents important to the audience, and none of that effort is being put into, say, giving Creati or Froppy a second thing to do. It’s a demonstration of what the story thinks of as engaging, what it thinks is worth using its setting and its superheroics to highlight.
It thinks Endeavour is interesting and it thinks say, Ryuuki isn’t.
There was another special boo tomatoes tomatoes I am throwing tomatoes moment, which was the fight between Rappa Kendo and Fatgum. Fatgum is already a character hovering on the edge of being a problem right there (I mean his title is ‘the BMI hero’, come on), but I appreciated the way the story treated the goofy character as if he had some room to be a cool hero. What I wasn’t wild about was the way that his framing was that to be powerful, he had to stop being fat, and that’s rotten. Like commit to it, don’t go ‘boom, surprise, he’s actually conventionally hot when he’s being powerful!’
I was real close to liking how they handled Fatgum and then I found myself incredibly disappointed.
This isn’t a story about school or superheroes. We don’t generally see the students talking about subjects in class, listening to or discussing complex topics of morality and ethics or public responsibility. We already know that they have to learn ideas like ‘protect people’ from the exams themselves, without seemingly any education about it ahead of time.
It really is the anime version of a superhero comic; superhero comics are famously sprawling, with many different characters in many different stories having a variety of different starts and finishes that can make tuning in at any given point a challenge, My Hero Academia is a lot more linear. The end of the last season introduced you to Mirio and Nighteyes; this season features Mirio and Nighteyes. There’s not a lot of distance between plant and payoff in this series, which can mean that the story is a bit easier to handle, but it also can make it feel a bit obvious; at the end of the season, there’s a focus on Endeavour and Hawks, and I’m going to take a wild swing that those two characters are going to be focal in the next season.
You can consider this as a good thing or a bad thing: I don’t particularly like the way that it follows the simple pattern of introducing a thing, then telling a story about that thing, because it does tend towards making narratives a little predictable and does make the world feel smaller. A character is introduced, and then we immediately learn about them because there’s nothing to focus on about them until after we already know. This runs the risk of being a real deflating move if they try and do an arc about (say) traitors or hidden instigators, which I think they’re going to want to do, since there are at least two characters introduced who can impersonate other people.
On the other hand, who cares? This is a series about feeling very big and hitting things very hard, it’s not really a series about smart superheroes outwitting people or standing on principle. I wish it was, but I can wish all I want and it’ll never be the thing I wish for.
See, superhero fiction doesn’t make sense unless you force it to.
Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!
#Media #StoryPile #Anime #MyHeroAcademia
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Ok ok- don’t judge me but get this- College AU, Where Ereh and his friends all go to a nearby maid cafe and turns out his s/o works there, and his s/o is wearing a EXTREMELY short maid outfit and she starts to flirt with Eren’s friends, and basically Eren had enough and dragged his s/o to a bathroom stall, and fucked them calling y/n their little slut, etc. and fucked them so hard they couldn’t work the rest of the day- BYE- 🏃🏻♀️ 💨 🚪
maid cafe
a/n: i would never judge you for this???? your mind is incredible and this idea has corrupted my brain for days,, please send more of your wonderful ideas to my inbox. and please let me know what u think bc i truly hope i did u proud
eren yeager x female maid cafe!reader
synopsis: eren and his friends go to a maid cafe and his new girlfriend is their waitress — so he drags her to the bathroom and makes sure she knows who she belongs to
tags/warnings: smut, dom/sub, degrading, mild humiliation, mirror sex, public sex, mentions of drug use
word count: 3.4k
“hey, we should check out that maid cafe downtown. i heard the waitresses are fine,” jean smirked as he proposed the idea, passing a blunt he’d just finished rolling over to eren.
eren graciously accepted the weed, but clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes at jean’s new idea for their friday night. a maid cafe wasn’t particularly up his alley -- he’d just started dating you a few weeks ago and didn’t have any interest in drooling over other women all night. but he was bored and if everyone else wanted to go, he supposed he’d tag along too.
“hell yeah, pretty girls in short skirts sounds good to me,” connie jived, a giddy smile on his face as he blew out some smoke from his own blunt.
“don’t you think that kind of place is a little disrespectful, guys? we shouldn’t view women as-”
“you’re too uptight armin, maybe we can find a nice girl to suck you off and loosen you up a little bit” jean laughed and cut him off as the blonde boy continued to give his immature friends a disapproving look.
“whatever i’m in, just let me finish this first,” eren held up his blunt and took another long drag, “i wont be able to stand you assholes all night if im not high”.
the four of them hung around their shared four-bedroom college apartment a little longer, finishing up their smoke sesh and flinging half-assed insults at one another. the sky was already getting dusky by the time they actually left and were walking through the small, bustling town surrounding their campus. the cafe wasn’t too far, maybe a thirty minute walk, but it was a beautiful spring night and shit, gas is expensive.
armin’s face was horribly flushed when they finally arrived and entered the front door, the poor boy completely unable to even make eye contact with the hostess standing in front of them. his shyness earned him a swift elbow from eren — his way of telling the blonde boy to relax a little bit.
the young hostess spoke to them in a sing-song tone, her hair perfectly curled to frame her face and her cheeks pink with blush. connie and jean completely ate up everything she was doing, gawking at her like a bunch of losers who hadn’t gotten laid in way too long — which is exactly what they were. eren was almost relieved when she finally sat them at a table and walked away, because he couldn’t stand to listen to jeans' horrendous attempt at flirting any longer.
everything on the menu had cute names that matched the theme of the cafe, and while eren and armin browsed the options, connie and jean continued to whisper about the different waitresses and which one they hoped they got.
as for you, it had been a pretty uneventful night, normal customers and nothing too crazy — that was until you walked up to the newest table you were assigned and saw your boyfriend and his friends sitting around the booth. eren and you hadn’t been dating all that long, a few weeks at most, and you hadn’t even met any of these friends yet. anxiety began to pool in your chest, but you tried your best to put on your best voice and greet them like they were any other table — after all, eren was staring so intently at the menu that he hadn't even noticed you yet.
“welcome home, masters! can i get any drinks for you?” you push your voice up to a high octave and make sure to draw out the word masters — it was the opening line that every waitress was required to use by the cafe.
two of the four boys are ogling at you so intensely that they might as well have drool hanging off their desperate lips. a third boy is keeping his eyes fixated on the table as if he doesn’t want to look at you — which is something you’re not quite used to. and eren is staring at you with his mouth gaping open, which he quickly shuts before any of his friends can notice.
he decided to sit back and watch, an amused look on his face as you continue to flaunt your extra-girly facade. he decides that now isn’t a great time for introductions to his bonehead friends — plus he knows you’re nothing like this in real life, so it’s entertaining to watch you act so out of character.
not to mention you look hot as fuck in your skimpy maid outfit — the tight corset-like top hugged your breasts perfectly and your skirt was so short he could practically see the base of your ass cheeks. he could definitely get used to seeing you like this.
but his amusement quickly started to fade as connie and jean shamelessly showered you in compliments and flirted with you like their lives depended on it. and what makes it worse is you’re playing along — he gets that it’s your job but still, can’t you just tell them to shut the fuck up?
he shoots the two idiots across from him a dirty look as soon as you walk away, “hey dumbasses, cut the girl a break”.
“hey man, i didn't hear you call dibs or anything,” connie raised an eyebrow at him.
“yeah dude, we’re just fucking around, chill,” jean added, a light laugh hanging off his last word.
eren couldn’t do anything but roll his eyes in response. he didn’t want to outright expose your relationship yet but he wouldn’t be able sit here and watch this all night either.
his blood was practically boiling when you returned with a tray full of their drinks. connie and jean turned their charms right back on for you, and fuck, if he had to hear you call them “master” one more time he was gonna lose his mind.
“armin get the fuck out of the booth,” he glared at the blonde boy, practically pushing him out of the booth so he could get to you.
armin yet out a small yelp, clambering out of his seat and letting eren climb out after him. the dark haired boy gave you the sweetest smile, but his eyes were lit up like flames.
“hey, mind showing me where the bathrooms are?”
you find yourself frozen in place for just a second, but quickly recover and give him a quick “of course master, follow me!”
the two of you walk to the bathroom in silence, but you can practically feel the heat radiating off of eren.
when you reached the restrooms you opened the door for him and bowed your head, but he grabbed your wrist and yanked you inside behind him, earning a small yelp from you. you noticed him snap the lock down behind him, and before you could even question his motives you were backed into a wall with his lips working roughly against yours.
“so this is what you do all day? walk around with your ass hanging out while calling people master?” he growled in your ear while moving down towards your neck and placing violent kisses along the sensitive skin.
“i- ah- if it bothers you-“ you breath out between gasps, your hands pressed defensively to his chest, “god, you reek of pot, eren”.
“no, it doesn't bother me, i love watching you flirt with other men. but let me remind you who you actually belong to now,” he murmured, voice dripping with sarcasm as he nibbled up to your ear and his hands fondled with the zipper at the back of your uniform.
“eren!” a strangled yelp leapt from your throat as he unzipped you and let your costume fall around your ankles.
for a second you thought about trying to stop him, but his hot lips against your cool skin was starting to win you over. your neck was undoubtedly covered in bruised love marks now, your skin aching in the most beautiful way.
“take it all off,” he mumbled into your ear as he snapped the strap of your bra against your skin.
“we’re in a bathroom eren, i don’t-“ you tried to reason with him, but any inkling of a rational thought was long gone from his mind.
“what’s with all the protests? you had no problem following orders when my friends were the ones giving them,” he cocked an eyebrow at you and lifted his loose shirt over his head in one swift motion.
you could have retorted or made a jab back at him, but your attention was caught up in the perfect lines of eren’s physique. between the sculpted curves of each of his muscles, his dark hair tied in a loose knot at the base of his neck, and the evil smirk across his lips, you were rendered indefensible. everything about eren was so intoxicating, and the idea of letting him have his way with you right now, in this bathroom, was starting to sound less and less like a bad idea. you weren’t sure how long you’d been staring and admiring when his lusty voice filled your ears again.
“did you forget how to use that pretty mouth of yours? i’m sure i can give you a little refresher,” he faked a frown and pointed to the floor with his index finger.
without a shred of reluctance you sunk to his feet. he had you in a state of utter compliance now, and all he had to do was mutter a few arrogant words and take off his shirt — you were almost ashamed, almost.
after a few smooth movements of his fingers against the drawstrings of his sweats, the tip of his member was hanging mere centimeters from your face. you glanced up at him with giant eyes as he stared down at you with his clouded ones. between his raging hunger for your body and the high that was still clouding his mind, there wasn't a single coherent thought in eren’s head other than the way your lips would feel wrapped around his cock.
“open up, princess. if you wanna act like a slut, i’ll treat you like one,” he grabbed the back of your head and forced it forward.
your lips parted without even thinking, and he thrusted his full length down your throat without any warning. you were left coughing and sputtering, the walls of your throat constricting against his cock and sending a few curses from his lips.
he slowed down slightly after that, but kept a steady pace as he mouth-fucked you until tears were leaking down your cheeks. you were gagging and coughing and your face was stained with salty saline but you loved every second of it. his head rolled back as raspy grunts fell from between his teeth, his fist tightening at your scalp.
after he thought you’d finally had enough he pulled back and released your hair from his steel grip. his cock was aching now, coated in a thick layer of your sticky saliva and yearning for more.
“get on the counter,” he ordered, and you scrambled to your feet in a way that was embarrassingly desperate.
you boosted yourself up onto the cool countertop, positioned perfectly between two sinks and leaning back against the mirror. eren placed a firm grip on each of your legs, shoving them open and snickering at the slick patch of fabric between your thighs.
“you like being treated like a whore, don’t you?” he clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth and reached down at your panties before yanking them off in one fell swoop.
he squatted down so his face was level with your cunt, sticking out his tongue and dragging it up to your clit with antagonizing slowness. he moved the warm muscle up and down, sliding it between your folds and in circles around your clit — but his tongue was just barely making contact. and every time you bucked your hips towards him, begging and yearning for just a little more he’d pull his head back and click his tongue at you.
you were aching, leaking, and so incredibly needy for him and he knew it. he’d transformed you into the crumpled mess laying before him in a matter of minutes, and he was very proud of it.
“i’d start begging if i were you, or i’ll leave you here like this — a stupid broken slut with no one to fuck her,” he stood up and cocked his head to the side before beginning to tease your entrance with a single finger.
“ah- eren, please! i’ll do whatever you want,” you whimpered at him, a pitiful look on your face.
“eren? you know you’re not supposed to call customers by their name here,” he shook his head, “you’ll have to do better than that”.
“please- master, use me however you want. just please fuck me already”.
that seemed to suffice for eren, because after that it didn’t take long for him to shealth himself inside you and have your sweaty back slamming into the glass mirror behind you. strangled moans and pitiful whimpers slipped from between your lips, your eyes rolling back into your head in complete bliss. he’d teased and tormented you for so long that the sudden intense stimulation was almost too much.
he fucked himself into you so hard you thought you might break — your legs ached and your back hurt from awkwardly leaning into the mirror. but those feelings were quickly pushed to the back of your head because the overwhelming pleasure was so forceful that you could barely focus on anything else. eren’s length was grinding deep into your aching caverns so good that it was completely clouding your brain.
you let out a stifled gasp when he abruptly pulled out, leaving you feeling empty and aching for more.
“why-,” your voice was so destitute and so, so desperate.
“shut up and stand in front of me,” he commanded, pulling you off the counter and twisting you so you were facing the bathroom mirror.
“look at yourself in the mirror and watch me fuck you,” he practically snarled, placing a palm on your back and pushing your chest down against the counter, “look at how much of a slut you are for me”.
the only response that came out of your mouth was a tiny whine of acceptance — it was pathetic.
a breathy moan fell from your lips as he slid back in, and your cheeks blushed a dark shade of red as you watched yourself get fucked from behind. it was embarrassing, humiliating even, having to see yourself like this, but what made it even worse was that you fucking liked it.
“look at yourself,” he nodded towards the mirror, picking up his pace and tightening his grip on your hips, “just a dumb whore who’s good for nothing but taking orders from other people”.
“only- you!” you let out a strangled yelp.
“what was that? i don’t think i heard you,” he thrusted hard, reaching deeper than he had the entire time and then leaning over your back so his head was positioned right next to yours.
“say it again,” he murmured, burning holes through your eyes with how intensely he was staring at you in the mirror.
“i’m a dumb whore, but only for- you,” you repeated, squirming and whining at the painful pleasure he was forcing into you.
“that’s right,” he flashed you a satisfied grin, standing back up and resuming his original pace.
the sudden shift had you clawing at the smooth countertops — desperately wishing you had a pillow or sheet to grasp onto for some kind of support. you flinched when you felt a couple of his cool fingertips find your clit, immediately rubbing hasty circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves.
“i want you to come for me,” he locked eyes with you in the mirror again, “and i want you to think about how i’m the only one who will ever make you feel this good the entire time”.
his words were harsh but they sounded like honey when they flowed through your pathetically devoted ears. between his consistent thrusts and the pads of his fingers working their magic, you were a pitiful mess of whimpers and moans in a matter of minutes. your body twitching and legs shaking as you mumbled his name over and over — it was the only word your brain could comprehend right now.
seeing you like that nearly pushed eren over the edge himself, but he forced himself to last a little longer, wanting to milk your orgasm for everything that it was. he was genuine when he said no one else would ever make you feel the way he could — your head was spinning and your body was on a high that felt like it would never end.
only once your body finally fell limp and tired, signifying that your climax had ended, did he pull out and spray his seed all over your exposed back. you were a sticky, sweaty mess and your legs didn’t have the strength to stand even after eren was done coming down from his own high.
your face was buried in your arms when you felt a wet paper towel cleaning up the mess of semen off your back. eren tossed the towel into the garbage and wrapped his arms under your torso so he could help your pitiful self stand up. you let out a few pained whimpers, stumbling into his arms and wrapping your hands around his neck.
“that bad, huh? how are you gonna go back out there and work for all your masters? i’m sure they’re waiting,” he smirked at you, and there was no sympathy in his voice.
“i- i don’t think i can,” you whined, clinging to him as your legs continued to shake underneath you.
eren shook his head and clicked his tongue, helping you over to your clothes and assisting you with getting back into your uniform. even after getting dressed your legs refused to work — you were a shaky, stumbling mess. you sat in a pitiful heap against the tiled wall while you watched eren get his own clothes back on.
“i think you might need a new job,” he snickered, squatting down and lifting you onto his back once he was dressed.
you graciously climbed onto his back, arms wrapping around his neck and burying your face into his neck, “yeah, yeah i’ll get a new job”.
“good idea, because everyone’s about to see how pathetic you are as we walk through the cafe,” he wrapped his arms back under your backside to support your weight.
“there’s a back exit right down the hall, please take that one,” you begged, “please”.
“well. since you asked so nicely and did so well i guess you deserve that,” he complied, exiting the bathroom and following your directions to the back door.
but because you have the worst luck in the world, one of the cafe managers came walking right around the corner just as the two of you were about to leave. you buried your head deeper into eren’s neck, unbearable amounts of embarrassment and shame flooding your veins.
“hey man, she quits, sorry!” eren yelled and handled it for you, dashing out the back door before the manager could even comprehend what he’d just seen.
“thank you,” you mumbled into his shirt, and you were truly thankful that you didn’t have to speak for yourself in there.
“no problem, princess,” he adjusted one of his hands so he could squeeze your ass, making you jump against his back, “let’s head back to my house for round two, yeah?”
“r-round two?” you stuttered.
you could barely handle round one, and he was ready to go again? how!?
“i’m joking, relax. let’s go watch a movie or something,” he chuckled, hoisting you higher on his back and beginning your long walk back to his apartment.
you sighed and sunk into his back, that sounded nice. there was a huge difference in how eren acted earlier and how he was acting now, but you were a sucker for both personalities. you expected college to consist of classes and work and maybe a few new friends but meeting eren yeager was sure to make it a lot more interesting.
#attack on titan smut#aot smut#shingeki no kyoujin x reader#shingeki no kyoujin smut#eren yeager#eren#eren yeager smut#eren smut#eren yeager x you#eren yeager x reader#eren x reader#eren x reader smut#smut#eren jeager smut#eren jeager x reader#eren jeager x you#attack on titan x reader
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Empty - F.W (1/2)
Gah daym this was a JOURNEY to write. I swore to myself to never write angst because, well I suck at it. But here we are, I swear this has a good ending because my heart can't bear that. I could've written this much better, so I promise to bring my A GAME for chapter 2. Enjoy, also Lee in this is a hate crime. This is very story telling-esk so I hope it flows well.
I wouldn't have written this chapter without the help of my good friend @mochiixjimin she helped me edit and spice up this whole thing so thank you so much to her! She's an amazing writer, go check out her work and show her some big love right now or else!! her wattpad
Chapter 1 out of 2 (Backstory)
Summary —> Life has always been a cruel joke to you, yet you simply play along. Overshadowed by Eva Burke your whole life, watching from the sidelines while everyone flooded each other with love, it would always feel like a joke.
Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader
Word count: 6.1k
Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST (with a fluffy ending in the second part) / One mature scene (18+) and then it's angst again <3 / Some slander / Offensive language
Rating: 18+
DON’T REPOST MY WORK
You were a bright child.
Beaming bright enough to keep a tight lipped smile during flu-shots, and enough to put on a happy façade when your dad threw away the drawing you had done of your family dog, rather than hang it up on the fridge.
Children have foolish dreams, and that was yours. Your friends in preschool boasted about their pictures being hung like trophies on fridges, with decorative magnets and even bigger pink bow ties.
The fridge in the Y/L/N manor was empty. Always empty, just how Ms. Y/L/N liked it. Empty marble floors with empty rug designs, and empty rooms with even emptier people living in it. They were both empty people. Hollow and void of any emotion, at least towards you.
You were different though. You were filled to the brim with ambition and hope and so many positive emotions that your parents never seemed to reflect on you. You were like those Disney princesses. The princesses always had hope, and when you have hope good things happen.
Right?
Your dad never meant to give you false hope. He just wished you’d keep your mouth shut as he worked until late hours. Using big words and having big aspirations, you shouldn’t have.
Mr and Mrs Y/L/N weren't bad people per say, just busy. They didn't know how to raise a child, this was obvious, because the purpose of even having a child was to fix their marriage. But a temporary fix wouldn't do it, it never did. There was always that hole on the roof, leaking rain of despair into their falsely built home that no bucket big enough could hold back. Because it always found a way to overflow.
They didn't know how to show their love, so they did it with money, clothes, toys and crayons that you would later use to draw pictures of your family, only to have them end up in the dumpster once again.
They spoiled you rotten, bought you gifts you never even dreamed of asking. You just shut up and enjoyed it, what else could you do? Whine and demand attention? Risk losing their favor? There was no favor to lose.
You got yourself a fat A plus on your third grade math test. Star stickers on your chest, you entered through the glass double doors of your house with a crooked smile - two front teeth missing of course - making your joy all the more endearing. Your backpack strapped tightly over your narrow shoulders, hanging low with all the crammed books you pushed before leaving school because you were just so excited to show your parents.
You received a big sloppy kiss from your Nanny, who practically was like a second mom to you, and dashed right into your fathers office to show him your new accomplishment.
"Good job, I'm proud of you."
You froze. You found a way to actually get their attention. The attention you so craved, the recognition you would die for. This was revolutionary. Basically a new era for you.
Nanny made you a star shaped cake that night, and sat with you while gently stroking your hair and listening to you blabber about how easy the math questions were. It felt warm, motherly love. Even if it was false, it would never compare to the love of your own mother, a love you would never get.
You spent all your night studying, your eyes burning under the harsh light of your lamp in the early mornings and your pencil, ebbing away over sheets and sheets of blank paper. Writing away your little hands off until they ached, just to snatch another A and get a good job.
This was good, it worked out very well. You became that student who looked forward to class, just to get a good grade and have the validation of your parents. The sight of your father’s lips quirk up even in the slightest, and how your mother’s eyes shone briefly in appreciation of your hard work, even if it was for a quick second, it was worth it.
Until the new neighbors moved in.
Mr. Burke was a round, cheerful man with an even rounder belly, and a big fat pipe that always hung on his lips. Mrs Burke looked and acted like those fairy godmothers you adored. You couldn’t believe such people existed. Mr Y/L/N invited them over for dinner, for courtesy. He was not happy about said courtesy.
He ended up liking the couple, they had a little daughter called Eva, who was small and adorable with round red cheeks and big doe eyes. Not only Mr and Mrs Burke, but the Y/L/N’s adored Eva as well. She was happy, always smiling, and her teeth weren't nearly as crooked as yours, not to mention she had pretty long hair like a princess.
You liked her a lot, took her to pick flowers, showed her the drawings you had prepared for the empty fridge; in case Mr Y/L/N ever had a change of heart and hung them up, you had been trying for three years and weren't giving up any sooner.
Eva was nice, kind enough to share her M&M's and very used to compliments unlike you. She seemed to get a lot from her parents and yours. The adults were so kind to her, always smothering her with love and kisses. You were happy for Eva, happy that Eva somehow managed to gain the favor of your parents before you did.
Little girls tended to be jealous, you weren’t. You were just glad to have a friend so cool, she didn't blush and stutter under praise and apparently her drawings were pretty enough to go on a fridge.
It was a Thursday afternoon when your mom smiled at you for the first time since your last exam grade. "Look, Eva drew us a picture, isn't it pretty?"
The crayola stash under your bed was no longer needed, they appeared clumsily dumped in the neighborhood trash the next day, most of them stomped under the pressure of your little sneakers. And the bundle of drawings you hid under your pillow, wishing on fairy godmother that one day they would be hung up too, were ripped; clearly a struggle given. You had paper cuts on your hands, and your Nanny thankfully applied ointment before Ms and Mr Y/L/N noticed, or rather, stopped to care.
Though you knew that even if you paraded herself with bloody fingers dripping to your elbows, they wouldn't care.
Nanny did, she was there. There when you were haunted with nightmares when the moon was particularly dark, cooing at you and letting you sleep next to her in that small bed of hers. There when you tripped and fell, small scratch resulting in a screaming tantrum. She was gentle, sweet, paid well.
You decided to go and pick flowers with Eva, and make a pretty flower crown for yourself, months after your drawing incident. Of course, you didn't have such silly dreams anymore. You didn’t wish to have your pictures hung, to have your mother wear the flower crowns you made and frankly you didn’t care for the sight of the sparkle in your parents eyes. Nanny’s was enough.
Eva agreed, dressed in a pink tutu Mrs Y/L/N gifted. You didn't comment, though deep down you gazed at the skirt in sparkling envy. Your mother never bothered to get you such pretty things. The two of you gathered saturated petals and nice ribbons while giggling amongst yourselves. Until, you accidentally caused Eva’s flowers to levitate.
Eva ran home, crying and calling you a witch. Mr and Mrs Y/L/N’s dirty looks made her feel shameful, and even dirtier when a letter addressed to her was dropped by a pretty owl you insisted on petting. It was from a school called Hogwarts, in the faraway land of London, and it seemed, not only you but Eva got the same letter the next day.
Though the Y/L/N’s and Burke’s were proud of Eva’s letter. They weren’t with yours.
— — — —
The ride to Hogwarts was interesting to say the least. You had so many questions unanswered, were you a fairy godmother too? Was that your destiny? Was that the reason you never got any attention, because you were destined to give instead of receive?
Eva was cheerful as always, making fast friends in newly bought uniforms and holding a pretty, long and thin wand, with designs flowing across the premise. Your wand was...functional. You were sad you couldn't choose, and that the wand chose the owner. It didn't make sense, what if you didn't want this wand? What if you wanted something charming like Eva’s? It should have been mutual.
It was while trying to find your way to the bathroom that you met the Weasley twins. Quite handsome, a year older and absolute fucktards. A word you learned from the two. Though you always found yourself laughing more at Fred’s jokes, you liked them both equally.
“Hey George! Look.” Fred had exclaimed, clinging onto his brothers shoulder and dragging him across. “Who's that girl?”
You introduced yourself, happy façade on, gentle words slipping out of your mouth like nectar. They had to like you, you told yourself. Just this once, more than Eva.
When sorted into Gryffindor, Eva, you and the twins became inseparable. Your group grew in second year, when Katie, Lee and Alicia Spinnet joined the bunch. You would make fun of the ghastly Potions Professor Snape, and imitate Dumbledore in the hallways to mess with the older students.
You loved your time at Hogwarts, and the adventures that came every year. Especially when Harry Potter joined.
“Hey Fred.”
Fred, who was fiddling with his bracelet you had bought him hummed in response, not bothering to look up.
You sighed, “Do you think the flowers can feel it when we pluck them?”
Fred turned at that, his bracelet was now tightly secure after his struggles. “I hope not.” he smiled, a faraway look on his face whenever he gazed at you. “You know, some people like pain.” he winked.
You merely looked at him confused, clearly way too young for...whatever that is.
He started laughing loudly, slapping his knee and causing you to scoff and slap him on the shoulder.
Third year was when it bloomed. The slight girly attention you gave Fred grew. Fred was...Fred. A handsome ginger, beater for their house's Quidditch team, always charming and charismatic that somehow oozed out of him whenever he did anything really. It was not unusual, every girl in school had a crush on him. That wasn't the case, Fred was one of your best friends, and you refused to entertain the idea of a possible...relationship.
Yet sometimes, you'd find yourself thinking about hugging and kissing Fred like you’d seen couples in your favorite movies did and you’d fall asleep with reddened cheeks and a boy with even redder hair in your mind.
But feelings couldn’t be controlled, nor easily hidden. Eva found out in your fourth year after hearing you mumble his name in your dreams. Fred Weasley was getting more handsome as years passed, and you found it hard to contain your feelings. You were crushing, hard.
Eva was...Eva about it. Happy, but nothing changed. She didn't tease like George did when he found out, nor did she act any differently towards Fred.
“Hey ____!” Fred had sat next to you, shaking the entire couch because he grew that tall during summer. “Got a new girl after me.” he looked at you, almost expectantly, as if you wouldn’t react the way you always reacted.
“That’s great Fred.” you smiled, gulping whatever lump that was forming in your throat and struggling to come out as vulgar words you wished to yell.
“Yeah,” Fred sighed, “It’s...great.”
Fred Weasley was a ladies man, and he wasn't afraid to show it. It was okay, because you were happy enough to be one of his closest, and that was enough. He often boasted about getting girls, and how successful his jokes were, and you always loved snapping back to him cockily, even more cockily than him. Playful banter was easy, comforting between them and when he turned away you would love to shyly entertain the idea of being one of those girl’s Fred talked about.
Fifth year, you had a sudden growth spurt. That was also the year where you discovered Cosmopolitan, Vogue and of course Witch Weekly. Hair no longer in a ponytail, legs shaved and smooth, short skirts with no nylons, you were a new person. After getting your period in third year, your spurt came late, but sudden. Way too sudden in the time of three months. It was hard to handle the changes occurring to your body. It was all too much that you had to become a lady and the fact that you didn’t have your mother to help was a pain you hid deep within.
It was as if whichever god above decided to squeeze your entire life into a summer and call it a day, because it was simply too busy. How ironic. No one saw your growth except old Nanny Gladys. Not Eva, nor her parents considering they went on a getaway and the Burke's, who had gone to Brazil.
But you were over that, you discovered the great telephone, and the great Hermione Granger, package deal with Ginny Weasley. You guys would talk on the phone for hours upon hours, Ginny obscuring your personality and Hermione altering your view on your parents. And Hermione was right, they were assholes. You didn't give a flying fuck about empty praises anymore.
You had become almost too tall for your older clothes, and your breasts were way too big to fit in the training bra you bought not even a month ago. Your hips, now wide and swaying as you walk became graceful, were decorated with long gem bracelets.
You cursed like a sailor that summer, ran around fields with family - your family being your dog, Jambo - bare feet. You stomped on flowers you used to pick as a little girl, stomping on those silly fairytale dreams you used to nurse, and never felt freer. For the first time ever you felt that maybe being empty could be more freeing than having false hope weighing you down.
Returning to Hogwarts was a big deal to students. Who changed, who glowed up after what happened last year - nothing, it was all childish drama.
Before your parents could even see your new self, your escapade to the Granger household was successful. The Y/L/N's didn't care, nor did they write. You knew it should’ve hurt, but frankly, you didn’t think having the pain in your chest was worth it. Hermione was awestruck, of course, after laying her sights on you for the first time since May and insisted on walking into the Entrance Hall, arm in arm with her and Ginny to show you off like some sort of revelation.
It was a revelation all right, at least to the boys, and some girls. It seemed no one saw you as a girl before. George oogled, and Lee was so shocked to find out that you were actually a girl with a pretty figure and an even prettier smile that he stopped clapping you on the back like he always did. Not a girl, you have become a woman. It was far too sudden, new uniforms and a whole new wardrobe had to be bought.
"____? You were a girl?" Fred joked, ruffling your hair like nothing changed between you. And that's when you realized, no slutty skirt, how much pushup your bra, or no matter how pretty your hair looked, Fred would always see you as ____, the girl with crooked front teeth and who once ate a worm in second year. Your teeth weren't crooked at all anymore - thanks to a few years of braces - and finally clear of uncomfortable metals but you felt as if Fred would always see the ghost of them on your pearly whites when you smiled.
He had this view of you that blinded him, caused him to treat you as he treated Ginny while he flirted and played footsie with other girls, including Eva.
That did not stop Eva from giving you false hope, and you took the bait, naive like always. Hope, that's what ruined it all. "You're beautiful now, of course you have a chance!" she said, rubbing your shoulder reassuringly, as if she had warmth to begin with.
It was all false, yet you still believed. You always had. Like a fool.
Ginny didn't like Eva, and maybe that's why you gravitated towards her. She was the first person who had ever met Eva that wasn't charmed by her kind smile and attractive words. Eva was...displeased. She grew up having the attention of everyone around, so when Ginny Weasley told her straight to her face that she wasn't shit, Eva seethed. The attention of Ginny changed nothing though, because Eva was the main character. Everyone - except Ginny, and secretly Hermione (though she would never say it) - loved her, they followed her around like puppies and praised her on her wonky wand work.
The upcoming Yule Ball brought great upswing to Hogwarts.
You were far too busy with her classes to take interest in the tournament - even though the dragon race was the gnarliest sight you had ever seen. Your goal was set, become a badass Auror and move out as soon as possible, so you didn't have to face your parents (except Holidays, yuck.)
But the Yule Ball was your chance. A chance with Fred Weasley.
You could ask to go as friends and maybe, just maybe a little hope and the night would end much more romantic than you had anticipated.
Plucking up courage was the hardest part, you practiced with your bathroom mirror so long that Ginny had to blast through the door and drag you out of her dormitory.
Fred Weasley agreed, why wouldn't he? You, his closest friend, asking to go as a group and drink all night while gossiping? It was a win win. At least that's what you told herself.
That was a lie, it wasn't a win win.
You gave it your all getting ready, dress silk, makeup and expensive shoes. You took a long shower, scrubbing and shaving yourself to a smooth gliding porcelain, only for it all to be washed down with reddened eyes and a boy with even redder hair.
Fred greeted you the same, danced the same, and you chatted the same; you were reminded again, for the second time, that you stood no chance.
Fred told you that he was going to get drinks, a quick trip to the booth and mumbled I'll be back in a second. He was not back in a second. Several minutes passed, and your worries caused your feet to follow after Fred's footsteps.
You ran, trying to find him in the empty corridors of Hogwarts, tears welling in your eyes because he wouldn't. He wasn't that cruel, life wasn't that cruel.
But it was, and in a distant empty classroom you saw Fred Weasley, on his knees and between Eva's legs, groaning and praising her like a starved man. Worshipping her like everyone else had, burying himself in her and completely forgetting the drink he’d bring back in just a second. He’d left you thirsty and alone in the Great Hall and left you to drink from a cup he hadn’t known to be forbidden. Yet Eva did.
Eva's perfect dainty hands tangled in his ginger hair, thighs clamping shut while her high pitched moans flooded your mind and echoed around your head. They were so loud that she couldn’t even hear the loud echoes of your footsteps and the woeful cries that left your lips as you ran. It wouldn’t be the first time she had ignored your pain for her own selfish reasons.
Your heart shattered, and suddenly you were six again, watching your parents praise Eva, hang her drawing on the fridge. A soft breeze tickling your bare toes, dangling from the small cushioned seat you sat on while you watched Eva braid Mrs Y/L/N’s hair. Emotionless, silent, not asking for anything, knowing that you won't receive in return. Eva's small hands carefully placed the flower crown on Mrs Y/L/N’s pool of hair, and she smiled, heart warming and hopeful. Suddenly you remembered the feel of your own hands tangling in between your locks as you stood on your tiptoes, trying to imitate your mothers braid on yourself in the mirror you couldn't reach. You pretended, only for a moment before it twisted into knots.
What a cruel joke, you thought as you watched Eva receive the world from Fred, from your parents, from your friends and from every damn person you had met.
You cried on a big set of stairs that night, your wails echoing as you asked whoever, whatever what you had done. What you had done to deserve such treatment from the people around you. It was rather cliche - and maybe a bit too dramatic. It was an uncomfortable seat of course, and your body, as well as your heart, ached. Pain, misery, false hope and enough hair spray to melt the ozone.
The princesses always cried on big sets of stairs, uncomfortable stone floors causing them to shiver while they hid away their beautifully animated faces in their perfect hands. This was different, there was no fairy godmother to fix your makeup and clone a gentlemanly Fred Weasley, a perfect prince. You knew, because you cried, and prayed and cried and prayed until your throat was sore. There was no fairy godmother, it was all a lie. There was no happy ending. There would be none.
No one came to find you that night either, and you had to drag yourself back to the Gryffindor common room, feet bare, mascara, blush - anything else you put on in hopes of being able to become like Eva even only for one night - practically nonexistent from the way your tears washed them away.
You didn't sleep that night, and your head was unusually clear, pounding, but clear. You laid awake, eyes blood-shot and stinging while your dress shuffled uncomfortably between your sheets. You were too tired to change, and your dress was far too pretty to be worn so short.
Ginny's words replayed over and over again. "They're not worth it." her voice was so clear, and true. Mr and Mrs Burke weren't worth it. Your parents weren't worth it. Fred Weasley wasn't worth it. Eva wasn't worth it. The midnight chirping of bugs invited themselves in from your open window, and blue moonlight streaks beaming down in lines from the tulle curtain flowed with breeze, it was calming.
You felt calm, for the first time in sixteen years. You felt calm.
Fred and Eva started dating that week. Everyone acted like they expected it, and you realized just how blind you had been. Eva Burke and Fred Weasley, golden couple of Hogwarts.
You watched them, emotionless, as they embraced with love and so much passion that you felt embarrassed. Embarrassed at how you’d blushed and squeal over Fred in front of Eva and George and anyone who had found out because now you knew. Now you knew that their amused smiles were probably pitying grimaces because they knew that you two were never meant to be. It was always Fred and Eva.
Fred was an amazing boyfriend, making sure Eva was taken care of, lovingly staring at her whenever and wherever, arm looped around her waist at all times; you realized they were truly not worth it.
"You disgust me."
You didn't mean the words to escape so carelessly, but when you said them, you realized you didn't want to take them back. The growing pit in your stomach felt weightless. "Excuse me?" said Fred, stopping his nibbling on Eva's neck, who was just as shocked. You scoffed, Eva already had enough purple bruises to parade around so why did Fred have the need to add more?
"You heard me right," George, Lee, Ron, Harry, Katie and whoever sitting in their circle stared at you, wide-eyed, Ginny and Hermione, however, were grinning devilishly. Kind ____, wouldn't hurt a fly, quiet at times and didn't know how to stand up for herself. It was shocking, but you were done pretending. You didn't want to be like that anymore, you wanted to say whatever came to mind and not worry about the consequences. "You guys disgust me, I know I should be supportive but you don't match, at all."
You turned to George. "And you, no you can't talk about Katie like that." George went pink. "You're disgusting for sleeping around carelessly and telling girls you'd write, stop giving people false hope. Grow up. You’re nearly an adult and you can’t even treat a girl right."
"And you Lee," Lee went quiet. "What gives you the right to make fun of me like that. I'll wear whatever the fuck I want, just because you don't have the courage to wear a headband. If you can talk about my breasts, I'll talk about your shrimp."
"Ron, you take advantage of Hermione then lead her on. Open your eyes, asshole."
"Harry, you're not the main character. You're not always going to be the center of attention, nor do you have the right to yell at your friends."
"Alicia, god you're so stupid. I'm sorry, you're great but such an airhead. No, you can't ride a Thestral if you can't see them, and stop eating quill ink they're bad for you."
You stood up, grinning proudly, heart loud in your chest you feared someone might hear. "Frankly, I don't wanna be friends anymore. I'm done with this façade, except you two, 'Gin, Hermione. The rest of you are just so fake." she gestured to them. "Boys," she nodded again. "Don't talk to me anymore, and Lee, give me back the money, think it's about time don't you think? I've been paying for you since third year."
And with that, you left. You left Three Broomsticks, grin wide and chest heaving. Hermione and Ginny ran behind, whooping and cheering you on as they laughed.
The news of your outburst spread fast like wildfire caught in wind. That week was bliss, you no longer had to watch Fred and Eva, nor did you have to act sweet to anyone. You didn't have to laugh along Lee's sexist jokes and look away to wince, it was pure bliss. You realized that the feeling of being free didn’t have to be momentary.
Pansy Parkinson was surprisingly a good friend, she didn't have the same fakeness to her, the one Eva had where her smile was too kind. She spoke her mind, though every Slytherin did, and you liked that. Ginny wasn't happy with your new found friends, but she couldn't separate you. You made your own decisions from now on. It was refreshing.
You told your new friends everything, eager to get it off your chest and breathe, and they listened. For the first time, someone listened. You didn't have to get good grades, nor did you have to act like a sweet angel.
You teared up the first time Pansy said; "It's not your fault,". You knew it wasn't your fault, but hearing someone else say it with such genuine eyes made you believe. Actually believe.
It started off with you watching from the sidelines as Draco and Blaise pranked, insulted and shamed whatever your old friend group did. It wasn't unusual for Draco to act this way, but he got especially irritated after hearing what you told them. Blaise, someone usually quiet, had stepped up and decided to somehow release the pent up anger he had for the Gryffindor students.
The year ended, and you had started to sneak in an insult or two towards Fred and Eva. It felt nice, like finally, step by step you were clearing your years of hidden jealousy. But, there was no one to tell you that this simply wasn't the right way.
That summer, you stayed at the Burrow. Ginny had invited you and you were quick to say yes; obviously a fact forgotten. Fred, George and whoever you had insulted last year stayed in the same house. You simply didn't want to go home, and if this meant seeing Fred Weasley then you had to endure it.
Molly Weasley was the sweetest person you could ever meet, and it was genuine. It felt genuine, you feared your teeth might rot if the woman got another word in. Molly greeted you as if you were her own daughter she hadn't seen in years. You felt valued, seen.
Until Eva was there, Fred invited her. You had to watch the only person you were able to love, introduce the only person he was able to love to his mother. It wasn't you. It would never be you.
And you realized, even after everything, Eva had once again found a way to be more loved than you.
The grin Molly broke out was nothing short of beautiful, and you couldn't help but smile as well. The smile wasn't directed towards you of course, and you sat on that small kitchen chair, celebrating a relationship that caused your ruin.
Eva didn't care that your friendship was over, nothing budged in her life. She still got the same attention, still received the same love from Fred. The same affection, the same attention and the same everything. Or so it seemed.
Though unlike Eva, Fred merely watched you with sad eyes.
You stayed clear of the couple and the rest. You hung out with Ginny and Hermione only, ignoring the dirty looks Ron and Harry gave you. The secret, whispered insults Eva threw your way. George didn't say anything, but he didn't object either. This was enough to show how he felt. At this point you really didn't care. Why would you, when they didn’t either?
You held your head high just like Ginny and Hermione told you to, and you spoke in a loud and clear tone whenever asked something. Eva didn't, she stuttered when you spoke to her directly. Her words scrambled against each other when she tried to voice her insults in louder statements than a whisper. For the first time, you felt relief. You felt intimidating, protected by the barriers you had built around yourself.
Longest day of summer hit, and it boiled. Tanning became a distant dream, you would bake in this weather, and you were thankful to the big AC box you had brought from home. You couldn't sleep that night, sweat beads falling down your forehead that was already covered in a thin sheen. You had decided to get a cold glass of water, not sure how you ended up face to face with Fred Weasley. His wand tip shone with blue light, and his freckles were much darker because of the sun. It seemed the sun decided to be cruel to Fred Weasley back and wash Fred over with it's deathly heat. He was sunburnt, this was an understatement. He was burnt.
You couldn't help but start laughing when you met, ignoring the proximity, ignoring the sleeping house, dead silent and a big leap from the lively Burrow, ignoring Fred's soft breaths he let out every other second. You couldn't live off on false hope anymore.
Suddenly it wasn't so funny anymore, and your face quickly fell. You took a big step back and inhaled, ready to ignore him like you had been doing for the past year. But Fred Weasley was a persistent man, and he gripped your arm and looked at you with determined, doe-like eyes. "Tell me what I did wrong." he said, adamant on fixing this, whatever this was. You both didn't know.
You stood silent.
"Please flower,"
"Don't call me that." you said, stern and gaze sharp. Fred didn't react, he kept on insisting.
"Please, tell me how to fix this. I can fix it," he pleaded, a plethora of empty promises fell out of his lips like nothing. He lied like it was nothing, he was oblivious to everything he and everyone around them had put you through. It was infuriating.
You didn't say anything. You knew he would not fix anything but maybe staying silent would give him the false hope that spinned mockingly in your head for the past eighteen years.
"I'm sorry, just please. I can fix this, I promise, don't be like that." empty tears fell down from his eyes. He looked empty, tired. They lacked the charm they usually shined with and you wondered if it was only you that caused such dullness. Eye bags prominent that you never noticed before. It all felt like a lie, a cruel joke.
Fred Weasley was simply a cruel joke. His presence could only be compared to a shot of whiskey, especially when you down it like how Hagrid nurses a Firewhiskey filled pint glass. You never know how it will hit you. But in the end, you'd always find yourself curled next to the toilet, crying your eyes out because your headache was simply too much.
He was sobbing now, hanging onto your waist like you would simply vanish and you let him. The grip he had on was like steel vice - almost concerning - but you didn't touch him, didn't say anything. You just let him be, like he did to you. Allowed him to hopelessly hang off you before you would eventually leave him alone, like he did to you. "Where did I go wrong? How could we end up like this? What went wrong?"
‘You’, but your voice couldn’t be found.
Questions were useless when the answer was already right in front of his eyes. You didn’t let a single tear fall, you wouldn't forgive yourself if you cried in front of him.
You blinked, and that night was over. Summer continued on like nothing happened, like it didn't leave you heart broken and in such shame yet again. You continued on ignoring Fred as he looked at you with sorrowful eyes. Looked at you more, with more than he did his own girlfriend.
You blinked and the school year started again with another terror looming around the corner. There was simply no need to keep up anymore, because school was easy. You attended classes, got good grades, a few scar here and there from Umbridge's torture chamber, a woman who stood at a whopping five foot three yet still teriffied an entire school.
You blinked and you had already become a proud member of Draco's insult the Gryffindor's club. You didn't even feel bad, being horrible to the people you hated for years felt like a breath of fresh air. You didn't go as far as physically hurting any of your old friends, but coming up with damaging insults was such fun. A lot more fun than sitting around with a fake smile.
You blinked, and you were already moving out from your childhood house. Mr and Mrs Y/L/N were unusually happy, this was a given. They would have a new empty room and make another office, like they didn't have enough already. You feared they would start getting rid of bathrooms once too into their work, and they would have to do their business in bushes or buckets. Scratch that, you didn't fear that, it would be fucking hilarious.
You blinked, and when had time passed too quickly? Where did all those empty childhood years had gone? You were already graduating, on your way to become an Auror. You had lost contact with all your old friends now, regretfully Ginny and Hermione too.
The war had hit too quickly, luckily you survived, so did your friends. Unluckily, it left you with a nasty scar right across your left brow. It looked sick, but the hit wasn't worth it. It hurt like a bitch. You could see, it was a close call but vision wasn't an issue. The trauma though, god did Bellatrix's breath smell bad.
When it was all over, you had seen Fred hugging his family tightly. It seemed the Weasley's all survived, and you gave them each tight lipped smiles while holding a bunched up rag to your head to stop the blood gushing out. This wasn't the reunion you wanted to have with Ginny, but hey, you take what you can get after a revolutionary Wizarding war you barely made out alive.
Before a franticly running Fred could reach you though, you apparated to your flat in Diagon Alley, ignoring the thrumming of your heart, and how you practiced in front of a mirror to congratulate their successful joke shop that morning.
#angst#hp angst#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley fluff#fred weasley#fred weasley x y/n#weasley twins#fred weasley angst#fred weasley smut#fred weasley series#reader insert#harry potter fluff#harry potter fic#fred weasley imagine
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BnHA Chapter 310: A Tale of Two Kacchans
Previously on BnHA: Flashback!Deku was all, “hey, you know what sounds like a good decision? Abandoning my studies at the safest place in the country so that the bad guy who wants to find me and kill me has literally nothing standing in his way of doing that.” All Might was all, “I fucking knew you were going to say some bullshit like that so whatever, but I’M COMING WITH YOU and I’m also going to invite the Hawksquad to come with us, mostly so that I can steal Jeanist’s car.” Jeanist was all, “okay fine you can borrow my car, All Might, but only if you wear jeans.” All Might was all, “okay sure” and he wore jeans and also sunglasses and a leather jacket and it was pretty rad. Anyway so now they’re out there fighting crime and hunting down the LoV and stuff, and absolutely none of it is going to end well, I’m just letting you know now. But I guess we’ll let them enjoy it while it lasts.
Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “happy belated Kacchan’s Birthday makeste, here’s the flashback you really wanted at long last,” and proceeds to pull the old vestige flashback out of the kitchen drawer and upend its contents all over my Friday afternoon without the slightest bit of warning. OFA III is all “WHAT’S UP I’M JUST SOME GUY, HELLO,” and okay?? Hello yourself. OFA II, on the other hand, is all, “okay yeah I have different hair and stuff, but I’m like 98% sure I’m either Bakugou or his goddamn twin, I mean look at me.” Which, yeah. I looked, and he really is though you guys. Anyway though, so he and OFA II basically just showed up in the First (who goes by Yoichi now)’s prison cell one day all “HEY THERE, WE’RE HERE TO SAVE YOU, APPARENTLY, ALTHOUGH WE SEEM REAL CONFUSED ABOUT IT TBH BUT HEY.” And so they saved him, and Yoichi was all “hey nice to meet you do you want to join my super-exclusive Saving The World Club”, and so they did, and then the chapter ended lol. I would have said yes too.
oh my sweet lord?? I didn’t realize we were getting a color page this week, but LOOK AT THIS
this could have been a fucking volume cover. I’m almost mad that it wasn’t, lol but I mean fkldjslklk just look at it??! Horikoshi out here spoiling us and making sure we’re well fed since next week the manga is on break for Golden Week. well this will certainly help to tide me over. hot damn look at those colors
so now it’s raining on some dumb building in the middle of somewhere
is this where the Hawksquad has set up camp for the night? or are we actually cutting back to the League? that’d be unexpected (but not unwelcome)
ffff nevermind dammit it’s just more random citizens under attack
feels like this is the third or fourth scene we’ve had of civilians being Under Attack since this arc started. I mean no offense, but I think we get it by this point. it’s the end times, etc. etc. we’re well aware that things have gone to shit
so apparently these two guys are facing off against a girl with a mutant quirk. and she’s telling them that she’s not a monster and she was just scared, oh shit. I believe her btw, you can see it in her face
but these assholes don’t believe her at all and they’re pointing what looks to be some type of support item gun at her
you know what’s interesting, is that this kind of random quirk discrimination is the exact kind of thing PLF and the like were swearing up and down they’d put a stop to with their glorious revolution. it’s almost like those guys were completely full of shit. huh
so yeah, fortunately for this woman someone is stepping in and intervening before she can be blasted to bits by this trigger-happy asshole for absolutely no fucking reason
looks like a hero actually stepped in and saved her?? but no that can’t be, heroes are the ones that ruin everything and make everything worse, or so I understand. lol where did all of this sarcasm come from out of nowhere dlkdsjlk I’m sorry guys I just suddenly got swept up in the hypocrisy of certain people’s philosophies out of the blue idek
anyway so it is of course Deku saving her, and now he’s trying to talk thess jerks down all diplomatically instead of just kicking their asses, which is certainly a choice
MOTHERFUCKER I’M
fucking impossible to miss the real world parallels here. shit. this woman nearly died for her crime of Walking While Having A Mutant Quirk huh. and meanwhile Deku is just letting this guy scurry away and even letting him keep that fucking bazooka of his, like, ????
fucking hell she’s crying!!
lmao this chapter is actively trying to make me mad now huh. that’s some genuine righteous anger I’m feeling on behalf of this fictional ferret lady whom I only met two minutes ago. girl you are not the one who needs to explain herself here!! you didn’t do anything wrong holy fuck. everything about this situation sucks so much
fkKJKLMMMHFGH
“I’m sorry I made you upset, please enjoy this panel of tiny!floating!Deku hefting this lady’s massive beach umbrella up for her like the fucking gentleman he is” well okay then thank you sir
and JUST LIKE THAT the tension is broken and I’m entirely incapable of taking the rest of this conversation seriously because Deku’s trying to be all calming and authoritative, but now the illusion has been broken because I know he only comes up to like her knees
“well thanks again for saving me young man. I’ll leave you to it, I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do like protecting your Lucky Charms cereal from all those greedy children”
oh hey All Might
you wouldn’t have just let that guy with the bazooka just walk away to commit more attempted murders would you?? man
OH MY GOD DEKU IS IMMEDIATELY DITCHING HIM AGAIN
I ~CANNOT STAY HERE~ oh, well, sorry to keep you detained I know you’re busy
dfslkjlk oh my god
fucking told you Deku didn’t pack any food lol. it’s literally all notebooks in that bag you guys. he couldn’t just leave them all in his dorm room when he left, because what if someone tried to read them and came across one of the pages where he absentmindedly doodled Kacchan’s name surrounded by little tiny hearts oh gosh
AWWWWW
I needed this Horikoshi. thank you for this wholesome soul-cleansing interaction after all of that bullshit earlier
so now Deku’s climbing up this tall building to eat his lunchbox more dramatically. Tokoyami would be proud
and Banjou is saying that society right now is just like in The Good Old Days (read: bad old days) when quirk society was even more of a mess than it is now
which is exactly how AFO likes it, no doubt
so now Deku’s having a whole conversation with Banjou seemingly out loud lol, weird. and he’s basically saying that they don’t have any clues as to where TomurAFO and the League are hiding right now, and none of the Tartarus escapees they’ve found knew anything either
mmmmmfmhm, marge simpson noises
but you think you can?? you, alone, by yourself?? you think you stand a chance?? I just need you to think this all through a bit more kid
Deku it is NOT JUST YOUR RESPONSIBILITY ALONE, PLEASE REALIZE THIS ALREADY. YOU MAY BE THE CHOSEN ONE, BUT EVEN THE CHOSEN ONE NEEDS HIS FRIENDS BY HIS SIDE GODDAMMIT
and of course my pleading is all in vain, because he’s a fictional character who can’t fucking hear me, and also because I’m pretty sure there’s only one character who is going to actually be able to get him to hear reason here. I’ve been saying it, and I’ll keep saying it lol. so until then I guess I’ll just have to be patient
anyway so it appears we’re segueing into another flashback??? HORIKOSHI PLEASE GIVE ME SOME BAKUCRUMBS BEFORE THE TWO WEEK BREAK, I BEG YOU
dlKSDJLFKWJELKGHSLGKLEKJLFKHLGK
YES, THANK YOU, I KNOW WHERE THIS FUCKING IS LOL, IT’S NOT LIKE I’VE BEEN OBSESSED WITH FINDING OUT WHAT HAPPENS IN THE REST OF THIS SCENE OR ANYTHING LMAO. BUT ANYWAYS DON’T MIND ME, YOU WERE SAYING??
oh my god oh my god I’m not readyyyyy, but also FUCK YEAH I AM SO FUCKING READY LOL LET’S DO THIS
YOU GUYS
I’M ABOUT TO STEP IN THAT ROOM AND YEET ONE OF THOSE FUCKING CHAIRS AT YOU ALL
NOOOOO
I’M ABOUT TO GRAB BANJOU’S GOGGLES AND STRETCH THEM OUT AND SNAP THEM BACK SO THEY SMACK THE SHIT OUT OF HIS FOREHEAD!!! IT’S WHAT HE DESERVES!!! I’M ABOUT TO MOVE TO JAPAN AND GET A JOB WITH DOORDASH AND FIND OUT WHAT HORIKOSHI LIKES TO ORDER FOR LUNCH SO I CAN BE THE ONE TO DELIVER IT SO THAT WHEN HE OPENS THE DOOR I CAN FINALLY ASK HIM “HEY WHAT THE FUCK” IN PERSON
AHHH NO EVERYBODY SHHHHH STOP TALKING!!!!
SOMEONE PLEASE TELL THAT PERSON SCREAMING AT THE TOP OF THEIR LUNGS IN THE BACKGROUND TO SHUT THE FUCK UP, OH WAIT, THAT’S ME
(」゜ロ゜)」 щ(゜ロ゜щ)
LOL THIS FUCKING ASSHOLE!!! LOOK AT YOU!!! YOU’RE NOT KIRISHIMA OR SHINSOU OR IIDA IN A WIG OR ANYBODY LOL. YOU’RE JUST A DUDE. BROOOOO ABOUT FUCKING TIME, WHAT’S GOOD
I CAN’T SCROLL DOWN AHHHH BUT I HAVE TO BUT IT’S TOO INTENSE AHHHHHHH
I CAN SEE THE TOP OF HIS SPIKY HEAD, IT’S FINALLY THAT TIME AHHHHHHHH OKAY I’M GONNA DO IT HERE GOES
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
IT’S HIM. IT FUCKING REALLY FUCKIGN IS HIM OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. WHY AM I SO SHOCKED LMAO I’M THE ONE WHO’S BEEN SAYING THIS THE WHOLE DAMN TIME LMAO. OH GOD. O H MY FUCKING GOD
well okay then sir. so are you an ~ancestor~ or a Kacchan from another timeline or so what’s your deal then
YOICHI WHO IS YOICHI
YOICHI ALWAYS KNOWS WHAT’S UP. LMAO WHO IS YOICHI
(ETA: I’m going to punch myself in the face lmao. he’s Yoichi. he, the First. that’s his name. name reveal at long last what what!!)
MORE IMPORTANTLY SHOULD I BE IMAGINING NOBU’S VOICE RIGHT NOW BECAUSE LMAO I AM ANYWAY BUT YEAH
(ETA: I actually think he’s going to end up being voiced by Nobuhiko whether he ends up being Kacchan or not, just because it fits right in with the general “identical in almost every way” aesthetic he’s got going on.)
TUMBLR HOW WE LIKING OUR ANGSTY ALTERNATE UNIVERSE KACCHAN?? EVERYONE HATED YOU SO MUCH BEFORE THEY EVEN MET YOU, BUT THEY FORGOT TO CONSIDER THE POSSIBILITY THAT YOU MIGHT BE HOT LMAO WHAT A TWIST
“some bright-eyed brat” oh come on. IT’S GOTTA BE HIM LOL
oh my god you all are probably TIRED AS FUCK of all my screaming but I’M SORRY IMMA HAVE TO DO IT ONE LAST TIME BECAUSE...
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
that face. that expression!! THE FACT THAT HE’S OUT HERE OPENING DOORS WITH HIS FEET, LIKE HOLY SHIT!! JUST ADMIT THE JIG IS UP ALREADY
and so they really are the ones who busted First out of his jail cell huh
so how did they know you were in the room?? why did they come and break you out?? and how, pray tell, did they know to get you to transfer OFA to them?? hmmmMMMMMMMM
oh MY GOD
you guys. oh my god. it’s too much. every last bit of it lines up exactly with the Bakuverse theory sdkjfj I’m short-circuiting. it’s really fucking happening oh my lord
HELLO SEXY ALTERNATE UNIVERSE KACCHAN WITH HIS SEXY FUCKING SCAR, FUCK YEAH WE REALLY ARE EATING GOOD THIS CHAPTER
HELL YEAH WE’RE GOING. WE’RE GOING FULL SPEED YOU GUYS. LMAO I’M SO FUCKING HYPED RIGHT NOW I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MYSELF WEFKJLDKFFFF
SO, EVERYONE, LET’S RECAP. -- ACTUALLY NO, I STARTED TO WRITE UP A LIST, BUT I IMMEDIATELY REALIZED IT REALLY JUST NEEDS TO GO IN ITS OWN THREAD. SO I MADE IT AND POSTED IT, AND NOW I’M FINISHING UP THIS HOT MESS OF A RECAP POST. SO NOW WE’RE BACK TO THIS ONE FINAL PANEL OF DEKU EATING HIS KATSU ALL SERIOUS
YES SIR. YES SIR, WE GOING, FULL SPEED AHEAD, WHATEVER, IDK WTF IS HAPPENING BUT YES!!
lol, anyways so as I said in my other post, mysterious sexy guys with tragic pasts are what bring us together as a fandom, so whatever your thoughts are on the rest of it, let’s just rejoice in that. it’s what we deserve
#bnha 310#midoriya izuku#ofa prime#ofa ii#bakugou katsuki#MAYBE???#bnha#boku no hero academia#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#bnha manga spoilers#makeste reads bnha
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all three heartbeats
bakugou katsuki / f.reader
genre: married au (husband/wife), angst, hurt/comfort?, fluff, katsuki being a sap in lowercase
synposis: katsuki works full time as a prohero, but his time working to ensure the publics safety kept him busy- far too busy at times. he seeks comfort in you and his newborn little girl because the both of you keep him grounded and keep him fighting. he just wishes he could find a way to feel like a better father and husband.
w.count: 3.6k
a/n: hi hello i aint never written for bnha before and i thought i would never write anime fics again but here we are years after (it has been actual years, someone save me LOL). what better way than to start back out with blasty amiright?
It was one of those nights. Katsuki had just walked into his home at an ungodly hour and as he shut the door behind him, he leaned his back against it, He flicked all three locks of the front door shut and dropped his duffle bag at his feet before he tipped his head back to rest on the wood. He closed his eyes, sighing as he had the urge to just sink to the floor of the entryway landing and power nap.
Lord knows when his phone would buzz or ring again- his seemingly never ending work calling him to clock in again. It seemed like recently he never clocked out of his job- always working, patrolling, fighting petty villains trying to commit petty crimes and occasionally stopping more dangerous situations that kept him on edge and busy for hours to days on end.
The duffle he dropped at his feet was full with his gear and his hero suit that was in desperate need of washing and minor repairs- things that if he even muttered to himself about, you would happily offer your aid.
His closed eyes opened and his chin dropped back down, the back of his head coming off the door as he pushed the rest of his body off it as well. He heeled off his shoes and ruffled his hair as he finally walked into his home, leaving his duffle at the door as he made his way to the bathroom.
In all honesty, Katsuki wanted to go immediately to the room he shared with you where he knew you were asleep. He desperately needed a shower though, and he wasn’t planning on crawling into bed to hold you smelling like sweat, smoke and hero work.
You told him before you didn’t mind his post-work scent, in fact you told him it was charming in it’s own way since it was proof that Pro Hero: Dynamight worked harder than anyone else to one day be the No.1 Hero he’d been dreaming of his entire life.
Katsuki never told you, but he’d think about that almost everyday and it always made him smile when he did.
The shower he took was brisk and quick because all he wanted to do was go to bed. He couldn’t remember the last time he wasn’t just taking power naps on the couch at the agency. He couldn’t remember the last time he got to go to sleep in his own bed. Katsuki couldn’t remember the last time he got to hold you and it was starting to really piss him off.
Since graduating UA, getting engaged, married and then having a child with you, is tempter had considerably settled. He wasn’t entirely tame by any means, he was still a quick fire with insults, refused to use people’s names and stuck to stupid nicknames he thought of, cursed like a sailor and exploded when something mildly frustrating ticked him off- but he wasn’t like he was before.
When Katsuki can stand to be in the same room as Todoroki and Midoriya and not blow a giant fuse within the first sentence exchange, anyone would call that progress.
It was no shock that you were a large factor in his settled image- he had to start leaning self control and how to manager his attitude. The one extremely rocky point in your relationship with Katsuki back when you both were third years and you threatened to leave him if he didn’t shape up made him change. It wasn’t easy, but the arguments and fights you both had back then serve as a reminder of how far he had come according to you.
When Katsuki stepped out of the bathroom, he sighed- feeling refreshed- as he walked to the bedroom with a towel around his waist and another over his head drying his hair. It was way too late to be running the hairdryer, he’d risk waking up his child that he knew was otherwise dead to the world in their crib.
Twisting the doorknob as quietly as he could, Katsuki stepped into the bedroom and his eyes immediately looked to the bed, seeing your body’s shape beneath the comforter of the giant, Alaskan king bed you insisted you absolutely needed.
He felt his lips twitch as he left the door cracked to let in a small amount of light from the hall without stirring you. He went to his dresser and snatched a pair of shorts and a tank top and threw them on before he left the room as quietly as he had come in.
Katsuki went back to the front door and picked up his duffle bag, moving it into the living room and setting it on the couch to fiddle with it in the morning. He grabbed his phone from the side pouch of the duffle and began to shut the lights off and retreated back down the hall.
Before he went back to the room you slept in to join you, he stopped first in the room that was directly across the hall from his and yours and as quiet as a mouse crept in.
The nursey was painted in a pale yellow with sunflowers painted on the walls (curtesy of the bakusquad who insisted they were in charge of nursery decorations). Against the wall was a shelved cubby for toys and items for the baby and beside that was a changing table. Across the room was a tall dresser filled with way too many baby onesies and outfits for the future.
Katsuki walked to the white, wooden crib at the back of the room as the room itself was glowing in the soft, blue light of the baby’s nightlight. He leaned over the crib side and looked down to see his child sleeping just as quiet as can be.
He smiled as he reached down and stroked her chubby cheeks with the back of his knuckles. She was warm and soft.
“Hey there, Girlie,” he whispered, barely audible. Just watching his little girl sleep so soundly made his chest warm. God, he loved her so much. He frowned as he thought about how tough it might be on you while he’s away looking after her by yourself. She was barely a few months old and he hasn’t even had a weekend with you two yet.
Katsuki bit his lip to keep from letting the disappointment he felt in himself slip out in the form of growls.
He stuck around in the nursey for a few more minutes, just petting and admiring his child before he snuck back out and finally, finally went back to his room and as carefully as possible slid into bed.
You slept in the center of the bed that could easily fit four sleeping bodies, and Katsuki shuffled in further towards you before he was right behind you. He stared at your back in the dark room, his eyes adjusting more and more as the minutes pass.
Katsuki lightly grabbed your shoulder before he was pulling you to your back and then reaching over you to lay on your chest. On an ordinary day, Katsuki would be happy just holding you, but he felt especially worn out and drained. So, for once, even if you were sleeping, he just wanted to be held instead.
His cheek pushed into your chest, listening to your steady heartbeat beneath his ear. His right arm stretched over your shoulder to rest by your head and his left stayed beside his own body, his right leg hiked over your waist to be as close to you as he could get.
He felt his eyes roll before he shut them, finally feeling comfortable and warm and safe for the first time in days. He was finally breathing easy and all he wanted to do was stay here, in your arms, for the rest of his life.
As he started to finally doze off, his eyes fluttered open at the feeling of something carding through his hair.
He heard you take a deep breath before you were shifting just a bit to curl around him more and he felt your chin push against the top of his head.
“Go back to sleep,” he muttered, feeling your sleepy gaze on the top of his head. The small, sleepy chuckle that left your chest hummed against his cheek.
“Welcome home,” you whispered, sleep laced heavily in your voice as he felt your lips push against his scalp. “How was work?” You ask so innocently, but the question only made Katsuki burrow his face into your chest further. He doesn’t answer you, so you prompt him further. “Katsuki?”
“Don’t wanna talk about it,” he muttered, lifting his face just enough to speak clearly then pushing it back down again.
You say nothing at that and instead return to just carding your fingers through his semi-damp hair as you bask in each other and the silence of the house. You glance over to the alarm clock, seeing the time 4:03 am in orange, glowing numbers.
You feel like you have loads you want to talk about with Katsuki, things you want to share with him that had happened and things you want to have him tell you that’s happened, but it’s too quiet and too peaceful to bring them up. They’d have to wait.
“’m sorry,” he suddenly spoke from where he lay on your chest. Your fingers stop their mindless fiddling in his hair and he grips onto you tighter.
“What for?”
“Not being here.”
You felt your heart crack at the tone of his voice. He’s always been more open and mushy around you- as much as he denies it and he only get’s more open and more mushy when he was sleep deprived and just plain exhausted.
“I’m always working, always gone, always away doing fuck-knows-what out there and not here. I’m not home and that’s gotta really fucking suck.” He’s silent for a moment but you dare not speak. You feel like he’s been holding a lot in recently and if he’s choosing now to let it all out, you would silently encourage him to do that.
“I mean-” he scoffs at himself, “we’re married for fucks sake. We have a baby and I’m basically leaving you home alone day after day to raise her by yourself.”
“What?” Your shocked to think that’s how he feels. “Katsuki, that’s not-”
“It feels true,” he whimpers. “I feel like if I keep doing this, keep leaving you and Misuzu alone,” his voice cracks at the sound of his daughter’s name leaving his lips, “then you’ll both just disappear and I won’t even have the balls to go after you two.” You think you feel something wet seep through your sleep shirt, but you don’t say a thing about it. “I don’t feel like a husband and I don’t feel like a father. How can I feel like a hero if I can’t even spare the time to be with my god damn family?”
“Well,” you start. In truth, all you want to do is console him, but for all you know that could make him feel worse. You had to figure out what he wanted first. “What do you want to do then?”
He took a deep breath before he let it out again.
“I think I’m going to take some time off,” he concluded. It had been on his mind recently and now was as good a time as any. He just wanted to be home. “Maybe a week or two.”
“If that’s what you really want to do, then I think that’s a great idea. Just don’t forget to tell Eijirou or else he’ll blow a fuse if he just think’s your late because the great Dynamight is always punctual.”
You got a hearty puff of air and smile out of him for that little line. it was no shock that when all came down to it, Kirishima Eijirou and Bakugou Katsuki ended up working in the same agency.
“I’ll just text the bastard.”
“You need to tell the agency too, you dolt,” you lightly whacked him on the bed as he groaned. Getting time off wasn’t going to be hard for him considering the god awful hours he’s been forced into the past however long. Just going into the office to get that time off is annoying and a process he wish he could get someone else do to for him. “Just head out in the morning and let both your partner and your agency know. It won’t be so bad.”
“Whatever,” he huffed. “Just, go back to sleep.”
You glanced back at the clock to see that only about half and hour had passed. You sighed as you closed your eyes happily ready to return to sleep before Misuzu woke up.
You swore Katsuki was out before you.
-x-x-x-
You woke up three hours later, just after 7 am to the sounds of your daughter’s crying from her nursey. When you opened your eyes and sat up, your husband was no where to be seen.
You frowned, knowing that he was awake somewhere and he had only slept a few hours. Shaking your head, you got up and went to Misuzu’s room to get her from her crib and bring her into your arms.
You shushed the infant in your arms as you left the nursey and walked around the house. Katsuki was no where to be found and his everyday shoes were gone from the shoe rack next to the door. He must’ve went out already.
Not thinking much of it, you moved to the kitchen to grab one of Mizusu’s bottles from the fridge. One plus of pumping was getting bottles for the future- but that was one of the only pros among a number of cons.
With Misuzu being still so young, she didn’t do much beside nursing, napping and diaper calls. She would coo and whine and clutch onto your fingers and clothes and hair, but her energy was never prolonged.
After nursing, burping and playing with her she was yawning again. You left to place her back in her crib in her room as you let he sleep a little while longer. Flipping on the baby monitor, you left the room and went to the kitchen. Your daughter had breakfast, it was only fair that you got something to eat too.
As you scrambled the last eggs in your fridge, enough for Katsuki just in case you saw him this morning, you heard the front door open and shut again. You smiled as you heard footsteps come treading into the kitchen and you looked over your shoulder to see your husband.
You smiled at him as he rubbed the back of his head. Dressed in jeans that tore just slightly in the thighs and a t-shirt, Wwhen he saw you, he immediately started going towards you.
“Good morning,” you told him as he was at your side looking over your shoulder. “Welcome home.”
“Mmn,” he hummed at you.
“Where’d you go so early in the morning?”
“Agency.”
“You should’ve slept in a little bit more. You didn’t sleep long.”
“I didn’t want to wait any more to just be able to stay home.”
You smiled at his answer. You brought one hand up to pat his cheek as he leaned into your touch.
“Why don’t you go get comfortable if you’re staying home then?”
He hummed at you again, nodding before he kissed your shoulder and sauntered back into your shared room. He took his time getting changed and getting into more homey clothes, because when he came back into the kitchen you were placing your food on plates for the both of you.
This time, when he came to you, instead of standing beside you, he latched onto you from behind as he buried his face into your neck. You could tell from the feeling of his eyelashes tickling your skin that he was still tired. You had half a mind to tell him to just go back to bed and he could really wake up and eat later.
The way he tightened his grip on your waist and started to sway ever so gently back and forth in the kitchen made you stay silent though. It was a serene moment between you two and you just closed your eyes and basked in it. It had been so long since you just got to bask in him and him in you.
“You hungry?” You asked as softly as you could muster. He nodded but made no effort to try and move away from you. “Do you expect to eat with your face hidden?” You teased.
“Just a little longer,” he muffled, his breath making your skin rise with gooseflesh as it tickled.
Half and hour later, you were taking his plate from him as he cleaned it of food and went to put them in the sink. He jumped from his chair at the table before he was gently moving you away from the metal hole in the counter where you were about to wash the dishes you had dirtied this morning.
“I’ll wash them,” he insisted.
“I don’t mind doing it.”
“Don’t be so damned stubborn. You cooked, so it’s fair.”
You shrugged as you relented. “If you really insist. Thank you, Katsuki.” You placed a small, short kiss on his cheek before you moved back to the table to sit.
As he cleaned up the dishes, you sat at the table and fiddled with your phone, scrolling through apps to see what you missed and then flicking occasionally to watch Katsuki’s back.
“I feel you fuckin’ staring,” he spoke as he shut the water off, shaking his hands before he dried them on a towel. The dishes all sat in a plastic draining rack as he turned around and leaned against the counter. You placed your chin in your palm as you laughed at him.
“Yeah? Got a problem with it?”
“Not necessarily.”
You both jumped when a small whine was heard over the speaker of the baby monitor you had sitting on the center of the table. You pushed your chair out, but before you could even stand up, Katsuki was up and down the hall to check on Misuzu.
When you made it to her door, he had already lifted her out of her crib. She had reached up and snagged a tiny handful of her father’s hair as he hissed.
“Listen you little brat, just because your my baby doesn’t mean you can yank on my hair.” Her small fist only yanked down on his hair more as if to say ‘I can and will’. You chuckled as you walked into the nursey and started to detangle her hand from his blond hair.
Katsuki watched as her fingers released his hair and instead wrapped around your finger as you bounced it slightly. Her tiny arm moved in tandem with your finger bounces.
“Hey,” your soft voice calling him suddenly brought him out of his own mind. You gently pulled Misuzu’s fingers off you as you pushed your palm against Katsuki’s cheek. “Why are you crying?”
Was he? God, he hated crying- especially in front of you. He clicked his tongue, whipping his head to face away from you as he used one of his hands to quickly swipe under his eyes.
“I’m not.”
You smiled at him, holding back a laugh as you pushed your husband into the living room to let Misuzu play on the floor. Katsuki sat on the living room floor cross legged as you watched him play with her as she lay on her back.
Occasionally he would glance at the time and remind you to pump, as if your tender chest wasn’t a constant reminder anyway. You always just nodded and told him you would when you needed to.
The three of you spent the morning in the living room until the infant began to yawn back to back and rub at her eyes clumsily. You let Katsuki put her down for her nap in the afternoon since he never really had the opportunity to. Through the baby monitor you could hear him mutter and coo at her to go to sleep.
When she was down, Katsuki came back into the living room and sat himself beside you on the couch. He sighed, throwing his head back against the couch and closing his eyes, obviously ready for a nap himself.
“Why not try and sleep while she’s down?” You had planned on getting him to rest while you start to go through the duffle bag you had relocated to the corner of the room a while ago to see what all he needed done with his hero equipment.
He opened one of his eyes, seeing you eyeing towards his bag and he frowned. He shifted his body, snatched your waist and threw himself back to lay on the cushions, you following in tow to lay on top of him.
“Katsuki!” You scolded in a hushed tone as to not wake up your daughter who just went to sleep.
“I’ll nap here and you will too. No objections.” He brought one of his hands up to start stroking your head. “Just let me take care of my god damn wife for once.” You just shook your head and pushed your cheek further against his chest to get comfortable. When he says it like that, you can’t really bring yourself to oppose him.
“Hey,” you whispered. You felt him hum in response to you. “I love you.”
His legs shifted and his arms wrapped around you tighter, getting more comfortable. He let out a deep, comfortable breath as you felt him push his cheek into the top of your head.
“‘Fuckin’ love you too.”
#bakugou#bakuou katsuki#katsuki bakugou#bakugou fic#bakugou scenario#bnha#bnha bakugou#bnha fic#mha#mha fic#mha bakugou#bakugou x reader#bnha katsuki x reader#bnha scenario#bnha oneshoe#bakugou oneshot#x reader#female reader#reader insert#bakugou angst#bakugou fluff
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ok i saw this cap of zoë kravitz in hf and she's got such a dreamy expression, she looks so deeply self-absorbed and infatuated by whatever she's imagining and those lines. and i couldn't stop picturing billy exactly like that for days so,
,
There’s a pretty unusual sound coming off the house when Max comes back home, that summer afternoon.
Full volume. Walls shaking. And she quietly walks to the source of the sound, holding back her breath right in front of Billy's room because, there's this second sound? Stranger and way more unsettling and Max's not sure-sure at first but then Steve Perry’s voice takes off and Billy’s follows it and then he's like, singing along and. Well. Max did know Billy liked Journey but not like, their 'stuff for pussies' but uhm, he does, apparently. Rasps his voice all the way through ‘Faithfully’. Kind of, sighs. Longingly? When it ends? But pfff, ok, big brothers are weird. Definitely weirder after being possessed and then kind of resurrected. Even if it's in a good-weird way but, whatever. So Max's just about to sneak to her room, dutifully rolling her eyes, steps muffled by the first chords of 'Edge of the blade' when―
Click. Click. Billy stops the tape. Click. Takes it out. Tap. Tap. Click. Puts on― Billy puts. On,
Heaven.
Bryan Adams’ Heaven.
And Max―
Being a younger sister is a meticulous kind of full-time, private detective job. You gotta learn how the person you’ve been watching so carefully for years and years works. Hafta develop some sort of―sense about your target. And Billy’s been—un-Billy-like? These past two months. Smiling more. Telling more jokes. Playing ‘You shook me all night long’ in a loop on their drive to school and back, not complaining at all but even joining when’s Max who can’t help but sing along so.
So. She retraces her steps. Knocks. Takes the distracted grunt she gets as a ‘Yeahyeah, c’mon in c’mon in’ and,
Creak. Creak. ‘―baby you’re all that I want’
“Billy?”
Billy’s sitting cross-legged on the floor. Radio close to his knees. Cassettes scattered everywhere. Piles and piles of breakwater surrounding Billy’s old, rusty beacon of sound. He’s reading through the song-list of one of the tapes, a smoke locked on the corner of his mouth, bouncing up and down with every little, absent suck he takes, and he looks. He looks―
Self-absorbed and even. Relaxed. Happy. Like whatever he’s thinking about right now is actually carrying his thoughts away to fucking heaven.
“Ehh”
“Uh-hu?”
‘When you’re lying here in my arms!’
“Billy are you. What―” ‘I'm findin' it hard to believe. We're in heaven’ “What are you doing?”
But there’s this orbit around the sun and then there’s whatever one Billy's been spinning along with the last couple of months so he completely ignores her question. Shakes the tape on his left hand. Picks another one from the pile on his right. Asks her.
“Is Billy Ocean too much? ‘Cause I think it’s too much. But it kind of fits into what I'm trying to say so” he says, shrugs, looking up at Max and waiting for the answer of what she realizes was not really a question. Not at all. So she does her little sister job and just, nods “Right. That’s good. I think it’ll slide just nicely into Bruce Springsteen and―”
“Billy” Max insists, waiting for the charm of the third time to work. It doesn’t. Not really. But keeps Billy's eyes on her long enough to squeeze an “A mixtape?” And, uh. That’s what gets it on. The charm “Are you making a mixtape?”
“Uh?”
And it’s like Max just shook Billy out of a daydream. Ash plopping down from his cigarette as his lips try but can’t purse and Max― she’s good. She’s stellar at this detective thing. Recognizes an opening the moment she sees it, right there in front of her, frozen in the middle of shaking Billy Ocean and Bruce Springsteen in the air right before cocktailing them together. Shaken, not stirred, please. Max’s upgraded to James Bond-level just right now.
“You’re making a mixtape for someone”
“Oh-nonoMaxi―”
“But you didn’t have those tapes before. Not even in your secret stash”
“How do yo―?”
“Holy. ShIT. You’ve been listening to somebody else’s music” This is. Oh, God. This. Is. GOLD. Max gotta take a moment. Blink. Breathe. Process. Her hands move by themselves, palms spread toward Billy in a wait-a-minute kind of gesture except. Max’s gonna need way more than a minute for this “You’ve accepted a music recommendation”
“Maaaaax”
“Gosh, you’ve even listened to the tapes enough to. Make―”
“Max!”
“I just can’t believe it”
And Max was glad. Well. As glad as one can be. Bunch weeks ago. Her mom and Neil out for the day. Coming back home a little earlier than she usually does to hear those ugh. Those other noises. Happy screams. Again. After months and months of Billy being basically alone except for her and the party and Steve. And Max’s so glad, of course she is. But she’s also a little sister. And all this investigation work has a high, rightful purpose.
Make her big brother’s life a living. Hell.
“Oh my god, you must be so gone!” Max brings her hands to her mouth. Takes a deep, deep breath that’s more a poorly restrained giggle. Shoots her index at him “Is it Bon Jovi? What I’m seeing right there? Goddam, Billy are you in lo―”
Bam.
Bam. Bam!
The front door.
What a way to spoil the fun. Max doesn’t have time for this. She’s working.
“BILLY?” comes a voice from the other side “Billy are you in there?”
Steve.
Oh.
What a way to make the fun a hundred times better.
Bam.Bam.Bam!
She’s starting to move to get to the door, sinsonging “Well, I guess Steve’s gonna find out you’re so stupid in love you’re willingly listening to―” when she realizes Billy’s eyes have widened and he’s jerkingly trying to unfreeze, he’s mumbling something in around his already extinguished cigarette in the ways of “Can’t” and “Find out” and “Surprise” and “Fucking help me!” While literally trying to shove the huge mass of tapes under his bed, his tone like hurryhurryhurry!, like he would start gagging and throwing his lungs out at any given minute, so nervous he looks.
So Max doesn’t go for the door. Yet. She basks in the enjoyment.
“Oh, is it a secret romance or something?” She sighs happily, leaning against the doorframe instead. “‘Cause you look pretty worried”
Steve’s banging the door now, voice wavering a little as he asks-shouts “Billy? Billy answer me! Hey, bab―Are you ok?”
“Max, please” Billy begs. Begs. Crawling over to where a Madonna’s Like a virgin is laying with the tape looping slightly out “He really can’t find out”
“What? That you’re in lo-o-oh-oh-OH―”
Billy stops at the tone, right there on his knees. Spits his forgotten cig to the side. And in the instant it seems to take him to make up his mind they both can hear Steve shout “Ok. I know you’re in there!. I’m coming in now!!”
“Fuck! Yeah. I am. Ok?” he looks like he just realized he’s tripped. Blushes. “Making it, I mean”
BAM!
And Ohhhhhhh.
Zero-fucking-zero-fucking-seven.
“Steve,” Max gasps. Because. Hear it makes it like. Easier. To process “You. And Steve”
B A M!
“Yeah, Max, Yeah. And this is a fucking surprise and he’s gonna―”
‘I've been waitin' for so long. For somethin' to arrive. For love to come along’
Ok. Oh. Okok.
“Door!” Max hastens him.
“What?”
“You. Door. Run!” She commands, and Billy― sometimes Max can’t honestly understand how he's got the grades he's got, because Billy blinks, looks clueless “C’mon slow ass. Hurry! I’ll hide all this shit”
And Billy finally gets it. Nods. Slow. Then fast. Stumbles up. Literally runs, to get to the door.
Max still gets to hear his labored “Fuck, pretty boy. “That was really hardcore of you. That's how bad you wanted to see me?” And Steve's own breathless “Really?” Before pushing Billy's room door close with her back, and kneeling on the floor to check for stray, incriminating cassettes.
Pretty boy. Maybe Max isn't as clever as she thought she is. Or hasn’t been doing her job right, clearly.
It's when she’s making ‘It’s a kind of magic’ disappear into the rest of the pile that she lays eyes on it. The case. The J-card written almost all the way down to the B-side already. A mixture of songs Billy's heard so many times there are parts where his tapes screech, and others she'd bet her life he wouldn’t have deigned to listen to. Not ever. Definitely not because―no, for, somebody. Bowie and Cher and Cindy Lauper and Bob Seger right next to Metallica and Guns n' Roses and Meatloaf and― there. There. Almost hidden in the back of the spine. A note. A tiny, thin-lettered thing Max really, really shouldn't be reading but―
‘Thanks for driving me back.
Love. Billy’
But. That's what little sisters do too, she guesses. Intrude. Annoy. Snoop. Feel this sudden rush of relief. Of happiness. When Billy laughs softly, on the other side of the door. When Steve laughs back. Maybe a tear. Or two. But just maybe. She’s really good at this little sister thing, after all.
Hopes for stellar.
,
or: that post s3 where steve lets a camaro-less billy drive him around in his own car "really? again, hargrove?" almost every single day, for months, after he comes back, because "you’re gonna perpetually stick yourself to my ass at least let me do the one thing that frikin’ calms me down" which results in steve resigning himself to deejaying in the shotgun even if "jesus, what's that shit, harrington?" "my car, my rules, sweetheart" which results in billy developing a ‘songs steve harrington is in love with’ mental playlist, realizing he’s probably a little bit in love with the way he loves them and, possibly, a little much love with steve and then stealing steve's tapes one day and,
making a mixtape about it.
(the first of a whole lot, of love letters)
#harringrove#d+mb sh+t i write#but#i had fun!#writing max bc she's my fav <3<3<#and also#dumbstrucklovestruck billy? MY FAV TKVM#also#mixtaping IS an art#xharringrove
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Doing some writing today off and on between errands and work, and jumping around various Kings of the Sky installments, specifically Dick, Jason and Cass stuff, so probably gonna post snippets from a bunch of them as I go.
(Kings of the Sky is an AU that goes canon divergent from the point of Jason calling Dick for advice for dealing with Bruce after the Garzonas case and where things end up going dramatically different from that point on. Including Jason not dying, being part of his own lineup of Titans between Dick and Tim’s, Dick being adopted not long after the Church of Blood incident, Cass being the third Wayne kid to be taken in and adopted and with Tim and Duke being next and then Damian coming along later once they find out about him. This is basically my ‘the family’s alright’ AU with largely ‘Good Dad Bruce’ except for Dick and then Jason yelling some sense into him about the other, respectively, in the first two installments, just FYI).
Anyway, this bit is from a story called “In Their Shadows Grow Trees Of Good and Evil,” set about a year after Cass has been adopted, when she and Jason are both sixteen and Dick’s twenty-one. Also just FYI, because canon has never been specific about what ways Cass is neurodivergent due to the comic-book style ‘rewiring’ of her brain so that she could learn to speak later in life, I tend to go with her being dyslexic and having aphasia. She sticks exclusively to sign language and being a silent presence in her costumed personas, so that there’s no chance of people connecting the dots between Black Bat and Cassandra Wayne, as she mostly speaks verbally in her civilian persona and doesn’t hide her aphasia. The reason there’s not likely to be any obvious signs of aphasia in the snippets of her I post is because I wait until I complete something to choose words at random to replace with aphasia-born mixups, so its more realistic and I’m not gearing her dialogue towards deliberately placed moments. Just in case you were wondering.
In Their Shadows Grow Trees of Good and Evil
“Hey Todd,” sneered an exquisitely obnoxious voice. “Why’s your sister so fucking weird?”
Jason sighed the sigh of a soul a mere century into its eternity of damnation as he rose from the lunch table he’d been studying at and crammed the rest of his books into his backpack. Then he pasted a cheerfully bland smile on his face and turned around, geared for academia warfare (teenage prep school edition).
“Hey Craig,” he said brightly. “Why’d you come out of the womb so ugly your parents had to tie a piece of steak around your neck just to get the family dog to go near you? Mysteries abound.”
The advancing junior slowed a step, momentarily rocked by his truly impressive return volley. The grimace Craig’s already gargoyle-esque features twisted into made his face even more unpleasant to look at than usual, which was quite the feat. Jason would have applauded if just looking at it hadn’t already turned him to stone.
But the bargain basement basilisk kept on towards him rather than turn tail and skulk off to pop his emotional blisters, so Jason sighed a sequel to his first one. Looked like it was one of those days where Craig felt up to powering through. Guess someone had eaten their self-esteem Wheaties that morning. Joy.
“You think you’re pretty hot shit, don’t you, Todd?”
Jason shrugged. “I mean, to be honest I kinda have a one track mind, so right now I’m mostly just thinking about punching you in your mistake.”
“My what?”
“Your face,” Jason elaborated with exaggerated patience.
“Huh?”
“Oh my god, I’m saying your face is a mistake. See, its not as fun when I have to stop and explain it to you. Ugh, you ruin everything.”
He neatly sidestepped the older boy as R2-Dumbass stayed frozen, smoke coming off of his internal CPU while trying to catch up. For a second Jason thought he was home free, but then he remembered the universe fucking hated him so haha, sucks to suck. Also, a small crowd had gathered to witness the verbal jousting match, and nothing invigorated an asshole like Craig more than an audience of like-minded peers. So there was that too.
“Whatever. Laugh it up all you want, you little shit,” the junior rallied. “But just remember, mocking your betters will never change the fact that you were born street trash and you’ll be street trash until the day you die.”
Honestly? Not his best effort. Jason almost felt bad using any of his good material. Seemed like overkill at this point. But he did have a strict Scorched Earth policy to maintain, so.....
“Yeah but my dad could buy out and ruin your dad so that means I still win, right?”
He smirked as the barb landed and Craig’s face set into a sunset vista of strangled purple and furious red. Bam. Direct hit.
“Listen, you - “
“Oh for fuck’s sake, it was rhetorical,” Jason interrupted. “I don’t actually care what you think even a little bit. Nobody does. You don’t matter. Please go be irrelevant elsewhere, you’re fucking dismissed, you loser.”
“Speak for yourself, charity case.” Oh goodie, Craig’s backup singers had finally arrived. Now if only he could remember to care enough to learn their names in the first place. Seriously, who told the extras they could have lines? “All the jokes in the world can’t change who and what you are.”
Jason shrugged and continued nonchalantly up the hill to where his sister was standing with arms crossed, staring down at something on the other side.
“True genius is never appreciated in its own time,” he tossed back over his shoulder. “I’m sure I’ll be immortalized in song eventually.”
The mob of morons deigned to let him go without further incident. Though he suspected that had less to do with his scathing wit and more to do with him being headed towards Cass. She was immaculately presented as always, wearing the Gotham Academy uniform like she was born to it despite hating its uncomfortable stiffness every bit as much as he did. But that was just Cass for you.
For all that she still struggled at times to engage verbally or speak up in social settings, her mastery of body language remained without peer. She could chameleon-camouflage her way into matching poise and posture with anyone - a skill that had allowed her to walk into school on her very first day with her head held high as though she owned everything in her sight. Exuding so much Queen Bee Intimidation Factor even the other hive queens were afraid to approach her themselves. Sending forth their drones to try and woo her into an alliance, only to see her remain oh-so-casually above it all, a slightly contemptuous smile adorning her lips.
Basically, she scared the shit out of their classmates without them having anywhere close to a true understanding of why, and Jason was outrageously jealous. Rude. Unfair. Why did his siblings always get all the cool toys when all he had was his rakish charm, scintillating intellect and debonair.....nah, who was he kidding. He was fucking awesome.
“Sup, sis,” he said, cresting the hill to stand beside Cass. “Just FYI, I just took a popularity bullet for you, which means you owe me your dessert tonight. Its a family rule that’s totally a real thing and definitely not something I just made up right now because Alf is making chocolate soufflé.”
She made no acknowledgment and remained stock still, a Colossus at Rhodes peering down into the shifting shadows of the parking lot below.
He peered down as well, though with absolutely no idea what they were looking at. Solidarity, yo.
“So are we staring fixedly at anything in particular, or should I just pick my own spot and commit?”
His humor was totally wasted on her as always. Instead of laughing and telling him what a lovable goof he was, she just inclined her head in the direction of a blonde girl where she was standing next to the driver’s side door of a Mercedes-Benz, dictating final commandments to her peons before departing. Well, probably. Jason was just guessing, based on his own body language reads, and like, general disdain for literally everyone at this school that wasn’t related to him.
He made a face. An extra special one reserved just for this classmate in particular. “Ugh, Madison Dunleavy? She’s the worst.”
Cass raised a cool eyebrow. “I thought Craig Hendricks was the worst.”
“He is. They’re both the worst. Its a hotly contested position here at Gotham Academy.”
She rolled her eyes and nodded back down at the Queen of Air and Darkness. “So. You know her?”
“Nope,” Jason said. “Come to think of it, I’ve actually never seen her in my life. No idea who that is. Can’t help you, sorry. Shall we go home?”
The Eyebrow of Inquisition speared him with clear intent. Who the fuck needed words when you could pack the Encyclopedia Britannica into a single facial expression?
Jason sighed gustily.
“I had a slight altercation with her freshman year that led to her declaring her undying enmity for me until the end of time. The word nemesis may or may not have been thrown around once or twice. I can’t recall.”
The Eyebrow of Inquisition lowered nary an inch. Ugh, she wanted more? Why did everyone in his family hate privacy, with the obvious exclusion of himself when snooping through Cass and Dick’s rooms for blackmail material, which was actually intel-gathering and thus another matter entirely.
“Okay so basically what happened was my first week here I overheard her talking shit about me and not even twenty minutes later she was pretending to kiss my ass in homeroom, like probably because of Bruce, y’know? So I just busted out laughing and told her to fuck off and die and she has inexplicably loathed me ever since.”
Avoiding further Eyebrow Inquisition-ing, he made a show of peering around aimlessly. When the silence extended and it was clear Cass was absolutely not going to break first, Jason waved a hand in dismissal and took to peering oh so casually at his fingernails. "I suppose I was less tactful back in those days.”
He chanced a look up, finally, and saw his sister’s eyebrow had somehow managed to mighty morphin power ranger its way into a configuration evoking both judgment and disbelief, with the latter perhaps aimed at the idea he was significantly differing in the tact department these days either.
“I don’t love the implications your face is making right now,” he told her.
She ignored him, because of course she did.
“Does she know Dick?” She asked instead. Jason shrugged.
“I mean, maybe? She’s probably seen him around at one of those stupid galas we have to go to, and actually I think maybe she has an older brother who was either in Dick’s grade or like, one above or below it? I don’t know.”
Now both eyebrows were doing the dance of disbelief. Okay, so maybe that was poor situational awareness on his part, since it wasn’t like Gotham Academy was a big school with a ton of other kids and also he’d only been in the same class as Madison for like over two whole years, but whatever. There were extingent circumstances.
“Look, she’s a total snob who’s always looked down on me and in return I willfully ignore both her existence and that of everyone and everything even tangentially related to her. Its called equality, Cass.”
She pursed her lips and went back to the peering, because of course in the mind of Cass it made total sense that the Grand Inquisition didn’t need to be followed up by any explanation on her part, what the hell. Like was he supposed to have inferred it?
“What’s this all about anyway?”
“I heard her talking about Dick earlier,” she said without peeling her eyes away from her personal recon mission. “I don’t know what she said though, I just heard her say Grayson, and then I was busy looking at what her body was saying. I know it was about Dick because she shut down when she saw me. And I didn’t like the way she....looked....before that happened. The way she was talking. It was.....”
Jason frowned but held back any follow-up questions while he waited - with total patience because he wasn’t an absolute cad, thank you very much - for his sister to find the word she was hunting for. It was a major source of frustration for her, that whatever neural map her brain followed put body language and spoken language in totally different regions of her brain, separated by a fairly great divide. Meaning she usually had to make a conscious choice to focus on body language or conventional languages - whether verbal or sign. But it tended to be one or the other; she’d yet to master taking in and comprehending both forms of ‘language’ at the same time. And none of them had quite figured out how to convince her that she wasn’t actually missing anything when she chose to focus on one specific form of communication - that she was still observing far more than most people ever would.
“Proprietary,” Cass settled on at last. She nodded her satisfaction with her choice of word, and Jason waited a whole two point five seconds before sticking his whole foot in his mouth.
“Proprietary?” He asked with a scrunched nose as he weighed that for possible context and implications. “You sure?”
She glared. He winced. It was a whole thing.
“Yeah, I know, sorry, sorry, I heard it the second it was out of my mouth. We don’t actually have to experiment with the legitimacy of if looks could kill.”
Cass rolled her eyes, but eh. That could’ve gone worse.
Jason swiftly redirected attention anyway. Discretion is the better part of valor, after all.
“So. The Queen of Air and Darkness was talking about our big bro, and her mood was.....proprietary, huh?” He recapped while digesting the info like a boss. “Well. Definitely not loving that, I gotta say. Hold please.”
Pulling out his phone and pulling up his most recent texts, he began typing furiously.
“What are you doing?” Cass asked.
“Texting Tom,” he replied, because duh. Hah, now it was his chance to have the answers that should be patently obvious and thus make with the ‘are you kidding me’ when she asked obvious questions she should know the answer to! How do you like them apples, sis?
“Why are you texting your boyfriend right now?”
Jason rolled his eyes, because fair is fair, but never ceased texting for a moment. Time was of the essence here, probably. Well, maybe. Okay probably not. But it’d still been like half an hour since he and Tom had last texted and that’s a very fucking long time in teenage years.
“To be our getaway driver tonight, obviously.”
She stared at him. He didn’t look up, but he could feel it anyway. He was very intuitive like that.
“What?”
Jason heaved another sigh, one keyed to tones of ‘oh my god, do I really have to spell this out,” exasperation. He was just racking up the bonus points here. It was really too bad this wasn’t an actual competition he could actually win and this was all just pettiness taking place wholly in his own head. Lame.
“Well, clearly we now have to go snoop in Madison’s house aka lair to see if its actually a house or a full on lair. Because she’s either a creeper or like, legit evil, and its important to know which one before we proceed, because obviously we can only bust her for being a weird creeper about our brother as Jason and Cass, whereas if she’s legit evil, that’s gotta go down as Robin and Black Bat. I’ll handle the snooping, you’ll take look-out, but we still need a wheelman and that’s why I’m texting Tom. This is all very mission-oriented, okay. I’m a professional.”
“Right,” she affirmed, while sounding anything but convinced. “Why don’t we just tell Bruce?”
Without looking up or breaking stride, he said: “I’m going to give you til I finish typing this sentence to figure out what was wrong with what you just said. Remember that we are talking about hypothetical danger to our brother, and also Bruce’s idea of a proportionate response to any of his children being in even hypothetical danger. And also our brother’s idea of a proportionate response to Bruce’s idea of a proportionate response. Look, you’re still new so I’m gonna need you to just trust me on this one. Its gonna be a no on telling Bruce without further intel.”
Cass said nothing in response to that, which meant that she was conceding the point and recognized the wisdom of his words. Or maybe that she was just gonna go ahead and do what she wanted anyway and just wasn’t bothering to fight about it, but it was probably that first thing.
“Well you better not just make out with your boyfriend all night,” is what she said at last, and that got his attention reeeeeal quick like.
“Umm. Wow. Okay. So, first off, you’re not the boss of me and who I make out with and when, so jot that down. And second, now I’m definitely going to make out with my boyfriend extra hard, with the exception of when we are actually on our recon mission because as previously established, I am a professional. And also, again, you’re not the boss of me.”
Jason ignored her Eye Roll With Extra Emphasis, and instead just held up his phone to Text With Extra Emphasis, as he read along with what he was typing.
“By the way babe, we have to make out extra hard tonight,” he said, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth while he dragged out his dictation with the kind of focus that usually led to Bruce asking why he couldn’t apply as much intensity to training as he did to pettiness. “Cass has suddenly decided she can dictate terms to me and I need to shut that shit down ASAP, so thank you in advance for your assistance in this matter. Smoochies and other gay stuff to the best boyfriend ever.”
Jason frowned as a response pinged back seconds later.
TheCatsMeow: ....the things I put up with for the sake of your weird family dynamics.
TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Yeah, yeah. You’re a saint among were-panthers. Must you mock? Why can’t you just tell me I’m pretty instead?
TheCatsMeow: Sorry. Let me try again. OMG you’re so pretty Jase how did I get so lucky xoxo.
TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: No. Its too late. It feels forced and unbelievable now. You’ve ruined it forever.
TheCatsMeow: Got it. From now on I will only tell you that you’re repulsive and hideous.
TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: I’m breaking up with you.
TheCatsMeow: But after I help you with your mission tonight.
TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Obvsly. I’m a professional. Why do people keep forgetting this?
TheCatsMeow: And also the making out to spite your sister.
TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Yeah we should do that first too. I mean we already penciled it in.
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The Dark Team (part 1)
<<Previous part Masterlist Next part>> Join the taglist in here
Spotify playlist of the whole series.
“You’re terrible with that neutral face”, you said to Peter, who was about to burst out of laughter. “We’re so winning this”. Bucky sighed as he leaned over to watch your terrible cards, but said nothing.
“Hey, that’s basically cheating”, Steve protested. “You guys are good at the mean-neutral face, and I got the kid. These teams should’ve been set up based on age”.
“Yeah, no. You old men have way more experience in poker, so it’s actually alright like this”, you excused, knowing damn well you and Bucky were together because of the awesome team you made. Bucky stayed silent but drew a competitive smirk across his face.
The rain pecked on the windows of the compound’s common room and the only noises you heard were your chattering, the storm and the bag of chips. Or whatever you could call those things; rich in protein, but definitely not rich in flavour.
“Don’t we have any better kinds of chips?” you finally asked the thing Peter was too scared to. Steve and Bucky weren’t even aware there were different types of chips; they thought the modern ones just sucked.
“I don’t think so, these are the kind Tony likes” answered Nat from the couch, not paying attention to the cards game.
“Well, he’s not here, might as well go get some better ones” said Bucky getting up, ready to get lost in the store. You and Peter got up as well, to join him and guide him through it. “Where’s he anyways? He never misses a Friday Game Night”. You shrugged your shoulders and looked around.
“Must be in the lab with Banner”.
“Oh, yeah. They’re working on the next mission, and they’re being extra secretive and mysterious about it”, said Nat once again, not taking her sight off her phone. Peter and you glanced at each other mischievously. “Why did I even say anything? Kids, you can’t go. They’re actually being careful with it”.
“Sounds like a dangerous mission, then”, said Peter.
“My favourite kind”, you answered with a smirk. “Let 's go. Maybe they even let us get in”.
“Not even in your dreams”, said both Bucky and Steve, grabbing both of you by the arms. “We’re the ones supposed to take care of you two, so if anything happens…”.
“We’re Avengers too, you know? What other fifteen year old can lift a bus with his bare hands, huh?” dared Peter. Bucky laughed as Steve sighed and sat back down on his chair.
“Don’t be imprudent, guys. And you have a harder mission now; to teach me how to get chips on that Hellish place”.
“Come on, I’m sure you can figure out the store by yourself”.
“Let me tell you, it’s anywhere near what they looked like back in my days”.
“Your grandpa-mode is showing, James”, you said bumping his shoulder. “Come on, let’s go”.
But as soon as you grabbed your coat and got ready to leave with your team-mates, Bruce showed up at the common room and asked both you and Bucky to join them. You blew a strawberry to Peter and walked out of the room victoriously.
“That’s childish!” he said before you were out of sight. You answered mockingly with a “I might be childish but I’m the adult going to the mission!”.
Once in the lab, you were surprised to find more than just Tony and Bruce playing around with chemicals. Thor was standing there with a mortifying look on his face, grabbing someone else by the shoulder, as to make sure he didn’t escape. This man (was he a man?) was not only escorted by two security guards near him, but also handcuffed on his back, with cuffs that looked only decoratively, since he seemed he could break them with two fingers. Dressed in a huge leather and metal armor that gave you the cue he might be from Thor’s world (Asgard, was it?). Tony didn’t speak just yet as you arrived, so you gave yourself some more time to inspect around. And “around” meant this new member. Was he with Thor? Didn’t look like family or friend. Completely different from the God of Thunder in every aspect, except in that imponent vibe only a God could pull off so casually. He had his eyes fixed on the ceiling, or at least very far from any conversation that could be happening in that lab. Looked nervous, or very quiet. It was not an easy person to read at all, and you felt your abilities were useless.
“Alright”, said Tony, finally pulling his eyes off the microscope “mission. Quite easy, actually, if done with the right team. My old friends from Hydra have a stick full of information we absolutely need to have away from them. It’s in the wrong hands, believe me. You three are going to take that stick and bring it to me. Simpler to say it than to actually do it, but I’m sure you can pull it off”.
“Sounds fine to me,” says Bucky, and you nod. “What about that dude?”.
“That 's… Thor’s brother; God of Jokes, or something childish like that, I don’t know. Is also sort of a popsicle and a maniac, if you ask me. Not relevant, he’s good with being bad and that’s what matters for this mission”. Tony’s vague introduction allowed you to make a bigger profile of him on your head. A God. That explained why he was so damn attractive. Even more than Thor; he had an elegance you’d never seen before, a charm that couldn’t go unnoticed. Tony kept talking about the details of the mission but you couldn’t pay much attention, for you had your eyes fixed on him.
He rolled his eyes discreetly at the violent introduction of Tony; they seemed like they already knew each other and it didn’t go well. You then realized he said ‘he’s good at being bad and that’s what matters for this mission’, so… he would be the third one? Not Thor, as you assumed?
“You know, it’s usually me the soul-gazing one. You’re stealing my job”, whispered Bucky, pulling you out of your thoughts.
“I’m not doing such thing”. You so were, but you wouldn’t admit it, not even to Bucky.
“You so are”.
“Hey, could you quit the chattery, damn teenagers? We’re gathering the Dark Team in here”, interrupted Tony.
“Teenagers? I’m twice your age, man” says Bucky with a plain tone of voice, and you snorted. Tony scoffed. “Alright, keep going. What did you say about the team? Or… Dark Team, did you say?”.
“It’s like a subunit we’re planning, inside the Avengers team, we could have tiny teams divided by some sort of special distinction, very personality-based. You three would be the Dark Team. We’re also adding agent Romanoff and Clint at some point, but in this mission you three would do”, he explained.
“What about Mr. Criminal in there?” you asked, pointing at Thor’s brother. You just realized they haven’t said his name yet.
“Criminal?” he finally said. His deep and velvety voice twisted something in your stomach. Damn, he was hot. You played it cool (or so you thought).
“Why is he handcuffed?” you ignored him completely, asking Tony.
“Well, he kind of tried to take over the planet once, long ago. You weren’t in New York, I think you were on another mission” he cut you shortly, and kept going with other details you didn’t really care about.
“I thought your face seemed familiar, I saw you on the news the next day, after the whole New York thing”, you finally talked directly to him, and went back to Tony “where was I, though? Can’t seem to remember, and I remember everything”.
“I don’t know, can you please pay fucking attention to what I’m saying? This is especially for you; you’re in charge of the planning”.
You took your head off Thor’s brother and paid attention to Tony’s words. But the new God showed up on your head later that day, before going to bed. You knew him from somewhere else, didn’t you?
#Loki#loki from asgard#loki odinson#loki fanfic#loki masterlist#loki headcanon#loki laufeyson#loki fic#loki x reader#loki x gender neutral reader#loki and reader#loki x y/n
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midsummers with hockey rafe (blurb)
requested by an anon who asked if i could write something about ward telling rafe to cover his hickeys at midsummers. obviously, had to make it coho!rafe.
enjoy!
you didn’t really know what you were getting yourself into when rafe invited you to midsummers.
it was spring semester, the two of you were in your roommates hammock that sagged on your front porch, mapping out your summer plans.
“so you’ll come stay with my family on hilton head for the fourth, right?” you asked, playing with his big, calloused fingers.
rafe made a sound of approval.
“we’ll have to book tickets for you to fly out, huh?” you continued, still fiddling with his hands.
rafe grunted, his baseball cap slipping forward onto his face.
you frowned, bending his index finger back just enough to startle him. “are you listening?”
“yes! fuck, leave my fingers alone, you brat.” he snatched his hand out of your grasp, shifting his hat back to sit properly on his head. “and to answer your question, because I was listening - no, I’ll just drive down.”
your eyes widened. “from huntsville? that’s going to take hours!”
rafe sighed. “no, I’ll be at my dad’s the week before. easier to drive.”
“you’re going home this summer?”
rafe didn’t really “go home” - at least, not the way you did. you looked forward to summers in your savannah home, having wine nights with your mom and barbecuing with your dad, relishing the time at home with your high school friends.
rafe only went home when he had to, his strained relationship with his father and stepmom making things less-than-pleasant when he would return to the outer banks for a couple weeks. he didn’t visit at all last summer, opting to split his time between your parents home and his place in huntsville.
rafe sighed again, deep & heavy. “yeah. I’ve got this...thing.”
you looked up at him, chin resting on his chest. “what thing?”
“it’s...god, it’s some stupid event my family goes to every year. basically a pissing contest to see who’s family is the most successful.” rafe removes his hat, rubbing his hand over his face. “my dad likes to win.”
you offered him a pout, going to rub your hand against his chin, letting your thumb run along the stubble that was coming in. “you have to go?”
rafe nodded. “yeah, I skipped last year only because I promised my dad I would come this year - wheez is 16, so it’s kinda a big year for her.” he gave a weak smile at the mention of his youngest sister. “sarah’s gonna be there too.”
“see! it’ll be worth it then. couple days with your sisters and then you can come hang with me and my fam in hilton head.” you nuzzled into his chest. “a tour of the carolinas.”
“I was actually hoping you would come with me.”
you popped your head up, eyes wide. “me?”
rafe rolled his eyes, “yes you. sarah’s bringing her boyfriend. figure it’s time for you to see where I grew up.”
and that’s how you found yourself flying up to the outer banks for a long weekend, a couple of gown options tucked away in your checked luggage, bikinis stowed in your carryon - you spent the whole flight fidgeting, beyond nervous about what was to come.
you had met ward a couple times - a little intimidating, and relatively unimpressed by anything rafe did. you didn’t mind that rafe didn’t go see him much - it always seemed to put him in this dark, sullen mood, one that could take days to pull him out of.
you were hoping to make it out of the weekend with minimal conflict between the father-son pair.
rafe was waiting at arrivals when you waltzed outside, grinning at the sight of your tan boyfriend leaning against his Jeep. you dropped your bags on the curb, opting to tackle him into a hug instead, giggling when he had to brace himself for impact.
“hi baby - missed you too.” he laughed, hands going to rest on your hips. “need help with those?” he gave a pointed look to your massive suitcases. you just smiled, offering him a quick kiss before flouncing into his passenger seat, letting him handle the heavy lifting.
your first interaction with the family at tannyhill (apparently rafe lived in a place where homes were old enough to have their own estate names) was mild - ward was charming, in his typical slimy way, rose offered you a grimace, before clacking away in her heels to “take a call,” and wheezie had barely let rafe slip into the foyer with your suitcases before she was asking him to buy her alcohol for some party later that night.
when you and rafe made it safely to the confines of his bedroom, he attempted to apologize.
“rafe, you don’t have to apologize.” you laughed, cupping his concerned face with your hands. “families are...well, you know.” you scrunched your eyebrows, trying to search for the right word. “family.”
rafe laughed, grabbing your wrists. “very insightful.”
the next day, rafe had a fitting, which you accompanied him to (your other option was pretending to make nice with rose while laying out at the pool - hard pass), giggling at his clear disdain for the whole situation.
“it’s so fucking stupid, babe.” he groaned for what had to be the tenth time that car ride, pulling into a spot in front of the tailors. “I probably have 50 suits I could wear, but god forbid I don’t match rose’s fucking color scheme.” he snapped his seat belt off, a hint of aggression peeking through.
you nodded, following him out of the car. “hey, if it makes you feel better, she’ll hate me more than you. I didn’t bring anything that matches the Cameron “color scheme.””
rafe turned to give you a look, hand blindly reaching for the door. “no one could hate you. you could wear a sack and people would adore you.”
you pulled a face. “shut up, you have to say that shit.”
“maybe, but it’s -“
“mr. cameron, here for the 2:30 appointment?” a tall, slim man appeared in front of y’all, tape measure around his neck.
rafe tugged on his shirt collar, letting out a small groan. “uh, yeah. that’s me.”
the man gave him a glance, before offering you a glare. “right, well, follow me. back here.”
you settled into a chair at the front of the store, fucking around on your phone. an hour went by before rafe emerged from the back, head peeking around the corner.
“hey babe!” you gingerly removed yourself from the chair, back stiff from your stationary position. “all done?”
rafe nodded, “yeah, I’ve gotta change out of it, but it’s ready to take home.”
you scrambled to your feet. “wait! let me see!”
rafe groaned, quickly looking behind him to see if the tailor was near by, before slowly emerging from around the corner. “it’s pretty fucking terrible.” he groaned.
you, on the other hand, were awestruck - there was your boyfriend, with his stache and overgrown hair, in all of his 6’3”, offseason bulked out glory, wearing a baby blue suit.
it should have been hilarious - but you were fucking salivating over it.
“uh, no it’s not.” you argued, walking up to grab the lapels of his jacket. “how the fuck do you make baby blue look this good?”
rafe grimaced. “babe, it’s awful. don’t lie.”
“oh really?” you smirked, peeking over his shoulder towards the empty dressing room. you started to walk backwards in that direction, tugging his hand as you gave him your best bedroom eyes. “why don’t you come in here and let me show you how much I like it.”
“babe!” rafe hissed, his head whirled to the left, checking to see if the tailor was in the vicinity, before looking back at you with raised eyebrows. “really?”
you nodded, biting your lip. “oh yeah, baby. never told me you were such a pretty boy.”
rafe grumbled, following you into the dressing room. “I’ll fuckin’ show you a pretty boy - c’mere.”
the next day, while waiting to take pictures with the cameron family, ward approached you and rafe at the wet bar, extending cocktails to you both.
you gratefully accepted, sucking down what tasted like a heavy handed greyhound, the vodka sitting in the back of your throat as ward barked instructions at rafe.
“we’re going to do the family first, rafe, and then we can get john and - what the fuck is that?”
you glanced up at the change in ward’s tone, straw slipping out from between your lips as ward tugged rafe’s shirt collar to expose a hickey, the deep purple spreading towards his collarbone.
“dad,” he started, knocking ward’s hand away to readjust his collar. “it’s-“
“rose!” ward yelled, turning away from rafe. “can you please come fix...this!” ward gestured at rafe wildly with his hand, throwing a glare at the two of you.
you were rigid, hand white-knuckling your drink, unsure what exactly to do in this situation.
“relax dad,” sarah huffed, grabbing her clutch as she pushed her way over to where y’all were standing. “c’mon, idiot, I’ve got something that can cover that up.” she rolled her eyes, poking at his neck.
rafe smacked her hand away. “quit.”
sarah ignored her brother, poking it once more before directing her attention to you. “what are you, part vampire?” she giggled, tugging your arm with her as she started up the stairs towards her room. “c’mon rafe,” she called out, voice almost singing. “gotta go cover up the evidence! people can’t know you have sex!”
you burst out laughing as at least three scandalized voices behind you yelled “sarah!”, rafe’s separate groan audible as he followed the two of you.
sarah leaned over as y’all entered her bedroom, voice whispering in your ear, “tux’s don’t hide shit - that’s why I usually go for the chest on john b,” she giggled.
you nodded, as if learning a deep and sacred practice - well, you supposed you kinda were.
“also,” she whispered, ignoring rafe’s call from behind to “stop corrupting his girlfriend,” and continuing, “third stall, men’s bathroom at the country club - doesn’t lock. learn from my mistakes. family bathroom is gonna be your best bet.”
“are you - are you scouting places for me to hook up with your brother tonight?” you hissed.
sarah shrugged, leading you into her room. “well, what else is there to do at midsummers?” she gave a grin, like the cat that got the cream. “john b and I call the golf restrooms.” she pushed your shoulders down, settling you to the bed, before turning her attention to her brother, who was sulking in the doorway.
“rafe! let me fix your hickey, you heathen!”
#rafe cameron#coho!rafe#rafe cameron imagine#outer banks#outer banks fic#outer banks imagine#rafe cameron fic#drew starkey
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Because Hearts Get Broken - I Know That You’re Scared (Part 2/3)
Continuation of ‘Because Hearts Get Broken’ - see my masterlist for it :)
Synopsis: She’s trying to move on. He’s still hoping for a chance
Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader
Genre: angsty, bruh, but with a sprinkle of fluff and a hopeful (??) ending
Warnings: swearing, emotionally distant mindset... can’t think of anything else, really.
Word count: 3656
Heartbreak isn’t loud. Y/N doesn’t even know if it had a sound what it would be like. Like glass shattering against the ground? Or maybe like a book being ripped and shredded apart, memories of time spent together ruined. Or maybe it'd like the crackle of a fire, as it slowly but surely crept up and turned everything into charred remains before it became nothing but ash and was carried away by the winds.
No one in her family talked about feelings. If they did all they received back was ‘suck it up. That’s life’. After that, it was time to move on. So, when she got together with probably the most open-hearted person in the world, it was almost laughable.
Y/N had always been the friend others went for advice, relationship or not, but she herself never asked for one, simply because she didn’t wanna bother anyone. Not that she thought the others were bothers. It’s just having grown up in a household where emotions were basically suppressed, opening up was quite impossible.
Then came Harry. Perfect, impossible, loving, sweet, kind, ridiculously open Harry. God, she just wanted to punch him because no one should be that nice.
January 2nd, 2020 he’d called her up, having gotten Y/N’s number from Sarah (after ages of pleading, because as much as Sarah sometimes couldn’t handle drunk Y/N, she’d defend and protect her until the very last breath), and they set up a coffee date.
Slowly but surely, they spent more and more time together and seeing as her job had her based in LA for a while, visiting Harry was no problem. Then the pandemic hit, and on March 18th the whole stay-at-home order was issued in California.
Y/N was in a panic. She was meant to leave LA in ten days, and the hotel her company was paying for had been paid until the 28th. With all flights getting rapidly cancelled, she was scrambling to get one, but even her firm was unable to get her a seat. That’s when Harry had called up, his tone a worried, urgent mess as to if Y/N was alright and what her plans were.
Of course, him being him, he immediately offered her a place to stay.
“We don’t even need to stay in the same room, there’s like five other guest rooms you can take up,” he tried to joke, and ease her tension.
“Fuck, Harry, just rub it in how rich you are.” Y/N cackled, and when she heard him laugh in the background, her heart did that stupid fluttery thing she’d grown so used to.
It took a little persuasion from Harry’s side, and reassurance at least seven more times, that Y/N wouldn’t be intruding on his space, and he was more than happy to spend the quarantine with someone else, instead of being alone, and that in no way her taking over a room or two would limit him and his own artistic endeavours. So, apprehensively Y/N packed her suitcases, grabbed an uber, wearing a mask the whole time, and drove to Harry’s place.
When Y/N saw the gated community and the palace he was living in, the inside of her cheek was practically bitten in half. They’d barely been together for three months, and now she was basically moving in with him, but given how it was either live with Harry in a fucking mansion or walk across the country to New York, she took the first option.
As much as Harry loved on her, pretty much shagging her brains out every possible second, and loving on her until her cheeks hurt from smiling, the anxiety about the whole situation never left.
Harry was worried about his mom and sister, Y/N was scared of what was happening in New York. So, when the state boarders opened, immediately, although reluctantly, she flew back to her apartment and her dying plants, but never forgetting to FaceTime with Harry. But they couldn't stay away long from one another.
Which is why they decided, given how she was able to work from home now, and Harry could do so as well, they’d fly over to one another every two weeks, quarantine together for the next two weeks, and then fly to the other place. Her boss actually loved the idea that Y/N was so willing to go back and forth between the two cities, so all her flights were written off as business expenses, not to mention when she said she wouldn’t need a hotel, he was more than thrilled to let her be in LA whenever she wanted, as long as her work got done.
It seemed funny to her now, that before Y/N couldn’t wait to get back to the sunny state of Cali. Now when she had to fly over (which was just a couple of times since the breakup), going through JFK security made her sweat, and landing was a vomit-inducing action. And the last time she’d gotten back to the home-base state, she’d actually thrown up, Harry’s last words ringing in her ears.
It’d been three weeks since Sarah’s New Year party, and three weeks since she’d spoken to him although he still kept calling. Every morning she’d wake up to a couple of notifications of missed calls, and each time she’d listen to the messages; it was all the same – I miss your voice. And every time she’d listen to it, her thoughts were exactly the same. You could say it was almost pathetic as to how many times she’d listened to his albums, just to hear him sing. Almost like he used to do right before she fell asleep.
But Y/N had no one else but herself to blame for it. She’d been the one to call it quits, she’d been the one who walked out of his apartment, and the one who decided she wouldn’t fight.
Now, she was sat by her small magazine table, documents spread out in front of her as if a tornado had rolled through, while an apple and cinnamon candle spread its delicious scent through the air.
Y/N would only admit it once because, well, the proof was all over the apartment, but she was very lazy when it came to taking away the Christmas décor. It made her feel warm and comfy. And it reminded her of Harry. How when she’d woken up after their first date, already in the new year, he still had colourful fairy lights strung across the curtain rods, giving everything a soft, cosy glow.
He’d also been the one who convinced her that a real Christmas tree was so much better than a plastic one.
“Yes, it’s a hassle,” he’d said through slurred words as they’d slinked away from the partying crowd after the countdown was done, and each of them had taken three shots of vodka. “But it’s so worth it. Smells like a fucking forest in your room. Like proper Christmas!”
And although she’d spent this holiday season alone, Harry had been right. Just like he’d been right about Y/N.
She tapped her pen against the glass surface and readjusted her position on the floor.
“This is the periodic table, noble gases stable, halogens and alkali react aggressively,” Y/N hummed as she highlighted the incorrect parts of the paper in front of her. “Each period will see new outer shells, while electrons are added moving to the right.”
Just as she was about to start off the second verse, her doorbell rang, and her stomach gurgled in response.
“Ugh,” she groaned to herself. “Pasta come to fuckin’ mama.”
But when she opened the door, she wasn’t greeted by the Uber Eats delivery man.
“Harry.”
Y/N was taken aback. She didn’t expect him to visit her, especially not so soon and especially to fly out to New York (as much as he was most likely there to do other stuff as well, her gut told her he was there for her).
Sure, she hoped that one day they could be friends, if not acquaintances, he was too important of a person for her to lose completely from her life, but that was looking like five years into the future.
“I bring gifts.” He raised his hand where her boxes of food hung in a paper bag. “Can I?”
“Uh, yeah, of course!” She shook her head to clear it from the shock and allowed Harry to enter into the warmth of her apartment and escape from the cold January air.
“I was on my way up when the delivery man came in, and I recognised by the boxes it was yours.” The smirk on Harry’s face was something Y/N loved to see, but usually, she liked to also wipe it away. Preferably with her own lips.
She let out a small scoff, not waiting to see if he followed inside, as she scurried to the adjacent kitchen and grabbed two plates, while he opened up the white cardboard containers and allowed the delicious smell of spaghetti Bolognese as well as a carbonara waft into the air. Y/N had wanted to eat the latter at some point during the night when the munchies hit, but she supposed Harry was probably hungry as well. “Maybe there’s someone else here, who likes Italian.”
“Probably, but only you would order from the shittiest Italian restaurant just because they have pesto and parmesan bread.”
“Hey!” She slapped his arm. “They’re not shit. They provide me with everything I need – calories, carbs and bread.”
“What more does a person need?”
“Exactly!”
Both of them let out small chuckles and then settled down on her couch to dig into the meal. They ate in silence, and despite Y/N’s initial shock, it wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, they were sitting pretty much shoulder to shoulder, as she watched Harry re-read the spread-out articles on the table and use her marker to tick some stuff that could use re-wording. He had a knack for words, after all.
“I uh…” He wiped his mouth with one of the napkins provided by the diner before clasping his fingers together and looking at the woman sitting next to him, as she slowly set her empty plate on the small cupboard beside the sofa. “I was hoping we could talk.”
Y/N hung her head. She should’ve known he wasn’t here to just check-in and have some dinner. “We already did. Twice might I add. What makes you think this time the ending will be different?”
“Third times the charm?” Harry let out a little laugh, and she rolled her eyes. “Look, I didn’t wanna leave everything the way I did. I – I said some pretty shit things.”
Y/N fiddled with her thumb. ‘I had,’ Harry’s words echoed in her head. ‘Only she didn’t trust that I loved her the same.’ “Nothing that was untrue though.”
“See, that’s where I think both of us are wrong.”
That was not what Y/N thought this conversation would be whatsoever.
“I – “ He cleared his throat. “I know I said I didn’t think you trusted me that I loved you enough. I think you know I did – do.”
If Y/N still had any food in her mouth she would’ve choked on it, as she bit back the rising lump in her throat, but instead of interrupting him, she let Harry continue. “And honestly, it’s not your fault that it fell apart, ‘s my fault too. I pushed you to do something, you didn’t want to, weren’t comfortable with, when you told me not to… just because I wanted to feel important, ‘nd because I wanted to get a role in your life you weren’t ready for yet. And I’m sorry for doing that. I should’ve never forced you.”
“Harry…” Y/N was at a complete loss. “I – I don’t really know what to say.”
He took her left hand in his and clasped it, finally able to properly say what'd been eating away at him. “During the New Year party, I didn’t go about it the right way. I was just – I was just still so hurt, and I wanted you to hurt the same because… it didn’t seem like you cared at all, which I know you did… I know you loved me, and…” He took in a deep breath. “I hope that you still do. At least enough to give us another chance. We can take it at your pace,” he instantly added, knowing how she’d react, expecting the sigh and the almost tired and resigned ‘Harry’ that escaped her lips. But he’d say everything on his mind. “You can take how long you need to feel like you can trust me with what’s bothering you.”
“Harry,” she repeated, but it didn’t seem like he was about to stop.
“But I think we can do it, and we can do it right this time. We know where we stand, we won't make the same mistakes.”
Y/N’s hand came to rest against his cheek, and he practically melted, engulfing her palm with his as to not let her touch leave his skin for even a second. “Are you even listening to yourself?”
“Look, I know, you’re scared, and the thing is, so am I. I don’t want it to end like that or end. Period. But I do want to try again.”
And if nothing but to humour him Y/N asked, “And if it does end the same way?”
“It won’t.” He was so sure of it, she had to laugh.
“Harry, the big difference between us is – you like to talk about your feelings. You like to go through them and stuff. I don’t. I feel… icky when I even think about talking to someone of what I feel. We’re just too opposite.”
“Opposites attract.”
“No,” she pointed a finger at him, stifling her laughter, though Harry seemed not to be hiding his smile. “Do not use science against me.”
He raised his hands as if in surrender. “I’m not, I’m just supporting my point with facts. Scientific facts, that you can’t argue against.”
“I mean…” Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “I dunno… Maybe it was a good thing we ended it when we did. It was ten months – almost ten – amazing months, but… can you imagine if we’d gone so far as to think about moving in together, and then it fell apart? That would’ve been a whole different kind of a mess.”
“Do you love me?”
Y/N sighed, resting her cheek against the couch while she smoothed away his brown locks from his face. “Of course, I do. Don’t think there will be a time in my life I don’t.”
“Then that’s all I need.”
“Is that really enough for you?”
“Yes.”
And there was no lie in that single word. Did he want for Y/N to feel comfortable enough with him that she talked about whatever concerned her, however small? Of course. But he also wanted her to be comfortable enough to be herself. If that meant her keeping things to herself, and trusting Harry to support her decisions, it’d be enough.
Her Y/E/C eyes hadn’t left his green ones, and they only widened as he leaned forwards and pressed his forehead to hers.
“Haz…”
Fuck, how he’d missed her calling him that. It wasn’t an exclusive nickname by any means, but when it came from Y/N’s mouth, it was the sweetest sound in the universe.
He was her Haz when he broke a plate, he was her Haz when she threw her head back as pleasure exploded through her body, he was her Haz when he took her hand in his to quell her anxiety, and he was her Haz when he gave her tissues as they watched a movie, and she couldn’t help but cry each time a dog or cat died (or a dragon, but he was a sobbing mess as well because ‘Dragonheart’ messed with them both).
His lips were so close, and just as they skimmed over her own, Y/N’s phone rang making her physically spring back, eyes like saucers.
“S – Sorry,” she stammered, scrambling to find the annoying device between the cushions. It was Sarah’s name that lit up her screen.
“Hey, what’s up?” Y/N started, voice trembling and shaky. God, when had she suddenly gone so out of breath? And why was her head so dizzy, as if she’d just gotten off a rollercoaster?
“Yeah, he’s here,” she replied, eyeing Harry. “Yeah, just a sec,” and Y/N handed him her phone with a quiet ‘why’s your phone always dead?’
‘Didn’t know it died’, he said, but that was untrue. He’d turned it off so this sort of a situation wouldn’t happen; so a call or text wouldn’t interrupt him at the most critical moment. He had to give the universe a proper talk once he was done.
“ ‘Ello?”
Seconds of silence passed, and Y/N didn’t like how weird it was, so she took the empty plates and put them in the sink to soak.
“Now?”
She could see the frustration rise in Harry as his forehead creased, and he let a hand rake through his hair. “Fuck’s sake… yeah, I’ll be there in ten. ‘S alright,” he sighed. “Not your fault Sarah. Tell Jeff not to worry, and that I’m not dead.”
With that, he pressed the red button and ended the call, drumming his fingers against the screen. God, he really didn’t want to leave. Not now. Not after he’d been so close.
“Uh, work?” Y/N asked, arms crossed in front of her as if she was protecting herself from the answer.
“Yeah, sorry. I uh a meeting from tomorrow got rescheduled for tonight, like right now because there was some sort of an emergency from the label’s side."
“ ‘S alright, I get it. Showbiz never stops.” Y/N motioned to the door. “I’ll walk you out.”
There were a couple of times in his life Harry wanted to give himself a beating. Once when he was six and Gemma had told on him after he’d broken a favourite vase of their mothers, he decided to get revenge and destroy her favourite plushie. He’d never forget the tears Gem had cried, and how absolutely heartbroken she’d sounded. He vowed although he was the little brother, to never ever let anyone hurt her like that, and if someone did, they’d meet their maker sooner rather than later.
The second time was when he was still a teenager, One Direction on the rise, and it had gotten to his head just a little bit more than it should’ve. He’d gotten really messed up at a party (which Harry shouldn’t have even been at). The disappointment on his mother’s face as she scolded him through FaceTime was gut-wrenching enough to make him promise to always know the limit.
And Harry guessed this was the third time.
He could’ve said no to the meeting. Jeff was there and so was Sarah and Mitch. The three of them could handle it for him. It’s not like he would mind much whatever they came up with if it had given him the time to settle things with Y/N.
“It was great to see you, Harry.” She brought him out from the thoughts as she unlocked the door and opened it for him, bringing her jumper sleeves over her palms to hide from the cold outside air. “Really. I – I missed you, and honestly, I’m glad we got to talk. I uh well, take care. And say hi to Sarah from me please.”
“I – “ he took hold of Y/N’s wrist before she could turn away. “I’m holding a small concert in a week. Here in uh in New York. It’s for charity… I want you to come.”
“I umm… I’ll have to check if I’m free, but yeah. I will. Thank you.”
“ ‘S no problem… Sarah missed you like crazy now that you’re not in LA as often… ‘n yeah. Anyway. I’ll put your name on the guest list, so just bring some ID, and they’ll let you backstage.”
“Okay,” she whispered and gave him a small, genuine smile. “Thank you. I’ll really try to come.”
“Yeah.”
And he was going to go without doing anything else. Harry truly was. But as he released her wrist, going to the stairs, he gave Y/N one last glance back, and it was like his feet had a mind of their own, as they carried him back to where she stood by the still open door, grabbed her by the waist and pressed his lips to hers.
He expected Y/N to push him away, but to his very huge delight, she didn’t. Instead, her fingers wove through his hair and her legs almost on instinct rose so he could take her by the thighs, wrap them around his middle and press her against the doorway.
The groan that Harry swallowed from Y/N only ignited the fire that’d been burning ever since he met her, but it wasn’t the destructive kind, like the ones that leave nothing but charcoal behind. It was warm. Safe. Like the light of a fairy light. Like the embrace of home.
“Come to the show,” he muttered against Y/N’s lips, as they broke apart, and he set her down on the ground, not letting go until he was sure she was steady on her feet. “I’ll wait for you.”
With that, he left because if he didn’t, he’d make sure Y/N would be unable to walk for a week.
And Y/N watched him retreat while her brain fought with her heart.
What was it he’d sung in ‘Golden’, as he’d twirled her in the sea of bodies and glitter a little bit more than a year ago? ‘Loving is the antidote?’
Maybe love was the antidote to her fear.
She closed the door.
And smiled.
Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):
Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue @im-squished
Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15 @breezykpop @girlboss99 @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist @alliyjane @sirtommyholland
A/N: I’ve been listening to ‘Fine Line’, ‘The Periodic Table Song’, ‘Welcome to the Christmas Parade’ (Welcome to the Black Parade mix with All I Want For Christmas) and ‘Rasputin’ Boney M remix exclusively... I feel like a complete crackhead... :D
Decided to tag also those who wanted a part 2 but didn’t necessarily ask to be tagged :)
P.S. I guess there will be a part 3???
P.S.S. if you wanna be added to a tag list drop me a message :)
#Harry Styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles imagine#harry styles fandom#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles x you#golden#fine line#one direction#one direction imagine#1d#1d fan fiction#harry styles angst#harry styles and y/n#harry styles fluff#harry styles and you#harry styles and reader
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Interlude - Rewrite POYW- Harry Hook x reader - Part 7 - Plans coming together
=
-1 year and 11 months later(January 2019)-
Ben placed his hands on his hips and smiled, looking up at the large entrance doors to the newly appointed VK shelter. Everything was finished, from the kitchens to the smallest tile in the bathrooms. it was all ready, over 100 people were hired and ready to make food, repair damages if made, counselors, therapists, caretakers. Everything Ben could think of was implemented and ready to go. The CPS still had some paperwork to be approved and worked through, so Ben was looking at late July early August for the six new vks to be in Auradon.
Which would be six-seven months from now but, at least it was only six to seven months and not the 3 years it's been since he promised and started on getting more vks off the isle, including the start of production of the shelter and CPS system.
Ben pulled out his phone and smiled, in only a few days it would also be the 3rd anniversary of the first six vks arrival, they had arrived about two weeks before his birthday and his birthday was also the third anniversary of his time as king and his 18th birthday.
January had a lot to celebrate, didn’t it?
He knew the vks were planning something for him, and they were all keeping most of the information secret so they could surprise him. The only thing he knew was that Evie rented out a place for the party, invited Ben's closest friends that weren’t the vks. (Audrey, Jane, Doug, and Lonnie. Chad was invited too but Jay and Carlos told Ben about Chad’s very sus behavior about Ben when they told him about Bens capture on the isle so Ben was slightly wary of his old friend)
Ben had planned for a party for the 3rd anniversary of the original six vks arrivals for the vks but they wanted to wait until the next group came to Auradon, wanting to celebrate with their fellow villain kids. So Ben now mentally rescheduled the party to be in August, not knowing the exact date they would be getting the vks.
“We’re getting closer!” Ben couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he turned to see Mal walking towards him, her plum-colored shoulder-length hair in a low messy bun and wearing her favorite poison green jacket and purple and black dyed jeans. “Just a couple more months and we can finally get more kids off the isle” Ben hummed and looked back at the shelter, nodding to himself and tossing his arm over Mal's shoulder and leading her back towards the car where Luis, his chauffeur, was sitting in, waiting for them to be done looking over the building.
“Yep, I’m glad (y/n) and I were able to get the council to agree to us transferring kids twice a month, so it won't be as slow a process” Mal nodded along in agreement, remembering when (y/n), Evie, and Ben had emerged from the meeting room with shit-eating grins, telling Mal and the others that they had tricked the council into agreeing with their new terms.
“Yeah, twelve kids instead of only six a month, who knows maybe by next year we’ll already have most of the isle empty, other than the people that actually deserve to be there” Mal narrowed her eyes as her mind flashed to the thought of Captain Hook and Cruella, two of the cruelest parents on the isle “not a single kid deserves to be there a second longer”
“No they do not, but we need to do this carefully, I don’t want to risk anyone dangerous getting off the isle.” Mal nodded in agreement, stepping to the side as Ben opened the car door and let Mal slide in first, stepping in after her and closing the door, buckling up and nodding at Luis to head back to the castle.
Luis nodded and drove off, Mal and Ben continuing to talk quietly in the back. “So we’ll definitely have to have security guards, though last time we didn’t really need them?” Mal nodded again in agreement, remembering when Ben and the others had gone to grab Harry's sisters, the twins, Sammy and Dizzy, it had basically gone off without a hitch, but that might have been because of Harriet's crew acting as security for them.
“Yeah, we can see how the first one goes and if we see any sign of potential danger or someone trying to get out, we’ll get some guards to follow us to and from the side, maybe on bikes so they don’t have to do the whole getting in and out of the car. But we should probably wait on guards for a bit, having so many adults from Auradon that they don’t see regularly might make them antsy, I know I would be.” Ben nodded, they didn’t want to make the vks still on the isle think they didn’t trust them, so they might have to wait on guards at least for the first few pickups.
“Yeah, good idea” Ben sighed, slouching in his seat and looking out the car window, watching the forest go by as Luis drove back towards his castle. “still kinda sucks It's going to be at least another 6 months from now until we can even pick the kids but…at least somethings happening?” Mal placed her hand on Ben's shoulder and gave a reassuring smile.
“Hey, you’re doing your best, we all know that, the vks on the isle know that. It’s not your fault that the council is preventing you from doing what you want or need to do” Ben gave Mal a watery smile and leaned into her as she wrapped her arms around him for a moment before she pulled back.
“Thank you Mal” Ben murmured, sitting back up and unbuckling his seatbelt as the car pulled up to the castle and Luis pulled open the door, Ben and Mal slipping out and making their way into the castle, continuing to talk about the plans for the isle.
“VK day huh?” Ben chuckled, remembering Doug and Evie’s suggestion to make the selection days for the new vks a whole day for them, to let the children enjoy a day just for them. “That doesn't sound bad, if Evie wants, I can buy out that old abandoned warehouse downtown and you can all do whatever you want with it to make it like the party place, so you can have your own isle place in Auradon” Mal beamed, looking up at Ben with her eyes shining.
“That actually sounds cool! Yeah! Let's do that! I can spray paint the walls n stuff and-and Jay can-“ Ben let Mal ramble on as he pulled out his phone and texted Lumiere about the new plan, who quickly texted him back that he would take care of it.
Ben put his phone away and looked to Mal again, who was still rambling about the isle and the precautions they should take.
Ben grabbed her arm and led her to the garden balcony, where the rest of their friends were waiting. “Beasty boy~!” Harry cheered, Evie holding her arms out as Mal snapped out of her rambling and skipped toward her friend, halfway crawling into Evie's lap and snuggling into her, Evie giggling as Mal did so. “Yeh finally made it, and ‘ere I thought yeh got assassinated”
“I’m sure if I was you would be the first to know and avenge me” Ben smiled, sitting next to Carlos and Jay, picking up the plate full of fruit and taking a chunk of mango off the pile. Harry hummed and shrugged.
“Depends on who assassinated yeh, if it was (y/n)” Harry gestured to you, who was curled up next to him reading a book “I wouldn’t do a damn thing” Ben nodded in understanding.
“As you should” Doug and Lonnie looked at each other at Ben's nonchalant attitude towards Harry's morbid sense of humor, then shrugged. Over the last three years, the two had gotten used to the vks humor and way of interacting with the world so it hardly bothered them nowadays, especially when Ben reacted in a way that played along with the vks.
Harry took out his phone after it vibrated in his pocket and raised his brow, then laughed “CJ forgot why it's like spring in January” Ben laughed at that, shaking his head.
“Didn’t we tell her like, three times now?” (y/n) said from her spot, peeking over Harry's shoulder to look at the text from CJ.
“Aye, but yeh know ‘er, she forgets what she deems unimportant” Harry mumbled, texting back CJ with the answer to her question.
“Isn’t ‘January is charmed by FG to be spring weather for Ben’s birthday’ an important thing?” Lonnie asked, tossing marshmallows at Doug as he attempted to catch them in his mouth.
“You would think?” Harry snorted, pressing the send button and setting his phone on the table, leaning back in his seat and hiking his feet on the table, crossing his ankles and arms with a smirk “But CJ doesn’t think so apparently.”
Ben let out a small laugh, his eyes drifting over to Carlos, who was hunched over a small metallic object, wires poking out the top and sides, sparking as he messed with the object with a metal-tipped tool. “Carlos watcha’ doing?”
“Making a thing” was all he said, sniffing as a spark shot at his nose and burned him slightly, Evie leaning over and rubbing his nose as he leaned away from the object “um-project-high tech thing” Ben smiled as Carlos pushed Evie’s hand away gently, giving her a reassuring smile as he went back to his work “I’m tryna make a portable projector that can connect to my phone, I don’t feel like getting out my laptop every time Jay or Mal want to watch a movie but are too lazy to go sit on the couch to look at the tv”
“It's always so far away!!!” Mal justified her laziness, a pout on her lips as Ben and Evie gave her a look, a teasing smile on their faces. Carlos just pressed his lips together and Mal stuck her tongue out, pulling back as Carlos leaned forward and attempted to touch her tongue with the metal-tipped tool “hey!”
“Don’t stick your tongue out at me then! You all know I always have something electric on me, be annoying get shocked” Carlos cackled, spinning the tool between his fingers then getting back to work, Dude resting his face on Carlos’ leg and whining for attention from his favorite person. Jay leaned down to see Dude and picked him up, setting the dog on his lap and feeding Dude a slice of turkey.
Dude had long lost the ability to talk, the truth potion gummy Evie had made two and a half years ago wearing off soon after cotillion, for it was never intended to last longer than a day or two. Carlos was slightly relieved when it wore off, while it was nice to talk to Dude easily, Dude talked too easily and had been prone to reveal things Carlos and Jay hadn't really wanted to be revealed.
Besides, Carlos could still speak dog so it didn’t stop any communication between the two. Though the rest of the teens were relieved to be free of Dude’s sometimes badly timed jokes and begging for butt scratches.
Ben relaxed in his seat and sighed, enjoying a quiet moment with his friends as they ate and talked, pushing down a smile as he noticed Harry messing with (y/n)s ring finger on her left hand, she continued to only pay attention with her book, letting Harry do what he wanted.
Ben sighed again and closed his eyes, pushing back his hair on its back legs, feeling the charming spring breeze gently caress his face.
Only 8 more months till the awaited day, and there was so much that was going to happen in between it all.
His and Jays birthday this month, his 3rd anniversary being king, the 3rd anniversary of the original 6 vks arrival in Auradon, the applications being finally sent out in July, the cps set to be finally finished in May, most of the vks and aks graduation from Auradon prep in June, and Harry had something planned for (y/n) that he had only told his sisters and Ben so far.
And so much had happened before! Some of the group had turned 19 within the last year and we're beginning to find career paths in the world. Mal was looking at art collages to become a full-time freelance artist, Jay was looking at a professional tourney career and was looking at Sherwood Forest University for their tourney program, Evie was already deep into the fashion world, half of Auradon already wearing her brand and was designing a whole line for the upcoming spring, and Carlos already had an internship ready to go at Stark industries.
Harry was being scouted for multiple modeling jobs thanks to Evie hiring him as her model for almost three years now, (y/n) had a solid ‘at home’ job as a freelance digital artist, Lonnie was planning a temporary professional R.O.A.R career then joining the Chinese military to be at her mother's side as a general like her parents.
Doug was Evie's financer and personal assistant; Jane would be trained to become the next Fairy godmother so FG could retire. Audrey; he didn’t know exactly what she was doing but Ben heard from Chad that she was thinking of publishing her stories she had been writing for years now, Chad wasn’t planning for much, probably just going to live off his parent's money and live his life as a lavish prince (which no shame to Chad, Ben sometimes wished he could just chill with no worries about the world)
But all that wasn’t exactly something Ben had to worry about for a bit, right now he had nothing to do other than relax with his friends. He smiled as he heard Jane and Gil walk onto the garden balcony, the two separating as Gil sat next to Carlos and Jane next to (y/n). The two were temporarily broken up as Gil was now a legal adult at 18 (he was turning 19 in March) and Jane two years younger than him at 16. While no one, including Jane’s mother, had a problem with their relationship, the two decided to take a break until Jane was 18, if only because the two didn’t want any dirty looks from the old-fashioned Auradon folks.
Ben closed his eyes again and rested against his chair, ignoring Harry as the pirate began to balance oreos on Ben's exposed forehead, Mal snickering and helping Harry in his quest.
-one week later-
Ben stepped out of his car and walked into the jewelry shop, smiling as he saw Harry, CJ, and Harriet in the corner of the shop, Harry messing with his black-banded ruby ring with his fingers as he talked to the shop worker. “And her ring size?” the shop worker asked, holding out his hand as Harry handed him the ring.
“um-(ring size)” Harry offered, leaning on the counter and peeking over his shoulder as Ben stepped next to him and put his hand on Harry's shoulder. “Hey beasty”
“Hello, Harry” Ben hummed, a bright smile on his face as the shop owner looked over the ring and its band “getting it resized?”
“Aye, I've let (y/n) wear it before but it didn’t fit any of her fingers other than ‘er thumb, so” he gestured to the shop worker who started to sketch out the band design so he could copy it into the newly sized metal once made. Ben nodded and peered over Harry's shoulder to see CJ busying herself looking over the rings in the display box, Harriet's hand on her arm to prevent any thievery.
“Why bring them?” Harry looked at him through the corner of his eye.
“Harriet demanded ta come cuz it's our ma’s ring, an’ CJ threatened ta tell (y/n) about it if I didn’t bring ‘er” Ben winced, CJ did want Harry to marry (y/n) so ‘she could finally get a cool sister’ (which always resulted in a slap to the head from Harriet) but she was a brat and held the threat of telling (y/n) about Harry's plan over Harry's head to get what she wanted.
Harry turned back to the shop worker as he called Harry's attention, informing him of the time, price, and pick-up date of the ring resizing. Harry nodded and handed the shop worker his debit card, leaning on the counter as the shop worker walked off to go complete the transaction.
“Plus I wanted some family support” Harry muttered, a shy smile on his lips. Ben laughed softly and patted Harry’s back, rolling his shoulders and pulling down his plain sky-blue t-shirt as he looked around.
“When you thinking of asking?” Ben inquired, smiling as Harry bit his lip and rubbed the back of his neck.
“I dinne kae, we’ve already talked about the possibility of marriage, I wanted ta make sure she was okay with it and she's all for it, but I have no clue when or how I’m gonna ask ‘er” Ben patted Harry’s back again in sympathy, not really having any advice for the flustered Harry.
“I’m sure you’ll figure something out” Ben laughed, standing straight along with Harry as the shop worker returned with Harry's card and handed it to him.
“Thank you, Mr. Hook, it should be ready next month, we’ll give you a call about any updates and when it's finished. Thank you for coming to Doc's jewelry shop” Harry nodded and put his card in his wallet, nodding at Harriet as she grabbed CJ and dragged her out of the store following Harry and Ben, CJ pouting as she stared at the shiny rings.
“Ice cream” CJ demanded, wrenching herself out of Harriet's grip and looking up at Harry with a pout, but she was wearing Harry's hoodie, which almost encased her body completely and it made her much less threatening than she usually was with that ‘Hook’ glare on her face.
“I jus’ bought a fukin’ ring CJ, I ain't buying yeh nothing, yeh have money, use it” Harry snapped, glaring back down at his little sister as she puffed her cheeks and slapped his arm.
Ben laughed loudly and nodding his head towards the ice cream down towards the left end of the strip mall “Come on, I’ll buy” CJ cheered and raced towards the ice cream shop, Harry and Harriet giving the king a look of thanks as Ben trailed after CJ.
-end of part 7-
part 7 bbys~ yep, everything's coming together~ we officially getting to the timeline of D3 and interlude is finally in 2019 yall. and i knoooow Gil and Jane broke up, but while i don't have problem with age gaps, Gils 18, janes 16 (turning 17 that year but still) it looks a bit weird and while FG approves of their relationship the two decided it would be best to wait until Jane is a legal adult. anyway, yep, Harrys gonna propose...HAVE FUN WITH THAT!
permtaglist
@queer-cosette @sephiralorange @lunanight2012
@daughter-of-the-stars11 @musicarose @random-thoughts-003
@remembered-license @rintheemolion @verboetoperee
@imtryingthisout @thecaptainsgingersnap @jatp-rules-my-life
#Descendents#descendants#disney descendants#harry hook#harry hook descendants#harry hook x reader#harry hook imagine#interlude#finale#rewrite#part of your world#shuffle playlist
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Some of the HLITF MC’s best quotes
“Instructor Goto... Always kind and diligent, his instructions easy to understand... I owe him a great deal. Instructor Ishigami... Very Spartan methods. The hardest of them all to make the grade with. Instructor Soma... They say his remarks can cut like a knife from time to time, but his advice is invaluable. Instructor Kaga... ......All that comes to mind is being backed up against a wall. Also, the fact that he has a ton of closet fans among the male trainees. Chief... Always paying for your instructors’ ramen... Wait! That’s not what I’m going for here!” (—MC’s thoughts, in Shinonome’s route)
“Hurrah, scientific mumbo jumbo on parade. I’m following about half of this conversation.” (—MC’s thoughts)
“Shinonome, you magnificent man, you!” (—MC to Shinonome, as Shinonome’s girlfriend)
“I think they look pretty awesome, personally. Who doesn’t love boobs? (—MC’s thoughts about her breasts, as Shinonome’s girlfriend)
“I mean, Shinonome’s real type is more Sachi than me. So calm and kind... And then there’s the whole, um... boob thing. Man, she has great breasts. So jealous.” (—MC’s thoughts, as Shinonome’s girlfriend)
“I love everything about Shinonome! Even when he’s being nerdy, even when he’s being mean. Even though he’d make a better girl than I do and his mushroo— I mean, his hair’s so silky...” (—MC to Sachi, in Shinonome’s route)
“Okay, when I go back to visit my folks, I’m a total slob. I don’t help around the house, I just laze around and throw my socks on the floor.” (—MC to Sachi, in Shinonome’s route)
“And anyway, who cares what I eat? I’ve got abs of steel. Wanna touch? Put your hands on these babies and you’ll see...” (—MC to Shinonome, as Shinonome’s girlfriend)
“(...) All I was trying to say is that I accept you for everything you are, anyway! Bad hair day? Slipped on a banana peel? Wore your shirt inside out? Bring it on! And again, even if your equipment’s not working, I’ll accept that too.” (—MC to Shinonome)
(...) I’m not that much of a pervert! So please, let me sniff you a little longer? I mean, no. Scratch that. Let me HUG you a little longer. (—MC to Shinonome)
“I mean... yes, they DO look very... tasty out there on the field. But oh my god...” (—MC’s thoughts about the instructors)
“The roundness of the mushroom caps reminds me of something... Ah... I’m grilling Shinonome’s head.” (—MC’s thoughts, as Shinonome’s girlfriend)
“(...) Graduation means the culmination of a long-held agreement between us. Starting with that post-graduation kiss. And I dunno if there’ll be a celebration or what, but what I’m most interested in... MOST interested in... Is that Shinonome and I are finally going to... We’re gonna... YEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSS!!!!” (—MC’s thoughts, as Shinonome’s girlfriend)
“Who shows up on an overnight trip with their hot boyfriend in bargain bin undies? Me, apparently.” (—MC’s thoughts, as Shinonome’s girlfriend)
“Is it me, or am I hitting like, peak fabulous girlfriend here? Hangin’ out in my boyfriend’s kitchen, totally got a handle on things! Kinda deal? YES! Freaking yay!” (MC’s thoughts, as Shinonome’s girlfriend)
“(...) I got to see glimpses of your stomach, and... those abs... Your abs are just, yeah, wow... Intriguing stuff, believe me.” (—MC to Shinonome, as Shinonome’s girlfriend)
“I-I’m broke! I’m waiting on salary day, and I used my winter bonus on a year-long train pass.” (—MC to Shinonome, as Shinonome’s girlfriend)
“Say what you like about me...But don’t you dare insult my darling Kaga!” (—MC’s thoughts, as Kaga’s girlfriend)
(...) a friendly and gregarious Kaga wouldn’t really be Kaga.” (MC’s thoughts, as Kaga’s girlfriend)
“I figured Kaga had brought me here for some freaky hanky-panky.” (—MC’s thoughts, as Kaga’s girlfriend)
“Demon...” (—MC to Kaga, as Kaga’s girlfriend)
“(...) Mean is like his default factory setting.” (—MC talking about Kaga to Chiba, as Kaga’s girlfriend)
“Chief thinks he’s so smart... he’s just a pachinko playing slacker!” (—MC’s thoughts, in Namba’s route)
“I discard my fantasy into a mental box marked ‘never gonna happen.’” (—MC’s thoughts)
“With all the love in the world, I give him the finger.” (—MC’s thoughts, as Shinonome’s girlfriend)
“How about we stay inside all day and bang it out on every surface we can think of?” (—MC to Shinonome)
“I’m nothing if not motivated when it comes to getting down with you.” (—MC to Shinonome)
“They dissed my silver fox! Unforgivable!” (—MC’s thoughts about random boys, as Namba’s girlfriend)
“Kaga looks so cute, obediently opening his mouth for the rice porridge. (...) Yikes... I’d better not say the word ‘cute’, or they’ll never even find my body...” (—MC’s thoughts, as Kaga’s girlfriend)
“Recently Kaga flip-flops between being a snarling beast and a purring kitty.” (—MC’s thoughts, as Kaga’s girlfriend)
“I pull off his shirt, taking a moment to appreciate his chiseled body. Usually it’s dark when we... you know. To see him up close in full light... (...) I drag my eyes back up to his face with difficulty.” (—MC’s thoughts, as Kaga’s girlfriend)
“Why am I the only one all flustered? Why does he get to be cool?” (—MC’s thoughts, as Kaga’s girlfriend)
“Finally you value me! It’s been such a hard road to get here!” (—MC to Kaga, as Kaga’s girlfriend)
“Usually I’d cringe at being in the pretty girl role at work. But this is serious! If batting my eyelashes can help, I’ll bat away!” (—MC’s thoughts)
“I’m becoming a real pervert thanks to Kaga!” (—MC’s thoughts, as Kaga’s girlfriend)
“Sorry. I kind of got excited over the thought of you seeing me in my swimsuit. (...) I’d like you to take it off me...” (—MC to Kaga)
“Take me, please.” (—MC to Kaga)
“Oh, actually I haven’t been eating much because I’m so exhausted from the heat. I’ve only been having seconds, not thirds!” (—MC to Kaga, as Kaga’s girlfriend)
“A year has passed already, and yet Kaga still manages to inspire mortal fear in me.” (—MC’s thoughts)
“I personally have had a marker to the head so many times, it barely stings anymore!” (—MC talking about Kaga’s class to Namba)
“I wonder what people are thinking when they walk past us? I bet they’re jealous that I’m out and about with a silver fox. No wait, he’s married...” (—MC’s thoughts about Namba)
“Oh no! Ishigami thinks I’m useless, too! I mean, I know I am, but to have him basically agree...!” (—MC’s thoughts, in a Prologue)
“Why am I wasting precious fantasizing time with that nonsense?!” (—MC’s thoughts)
“Yikes, stop staring! I’m totally perving on his body!” (—MC’s thoughts)
“This is what passes for democracy these days?!” (—MC to the instructors and Namba)
“He’s a fantastic kisser, too. Where did he learn to kiss like that, anyway? Who gave him the right?! I’d genuinely like to know why kisses feel so good. Y’know, for science. What a man, what a man, what a mighty fine man! Mm.” (—MC’s thoughts, as Shinonome’s girlfriend)
“Man, I am just so good at this improving thing, I even impress myself. (...) If you don’t give yourself a pat on the back from time to time, who will?!” (—MC to Miyayama)
“Hey! I’m a beautiful daisy, not dandelion fluff! Or maybe I’m both. Maybe I’m more like a burr! Not like I’m planning on letting you go anytime soon, anyway. Mwaha!” (—MC to Shinonome, as Shinonome’s girlfriend)
“Kaga got up close and intimate against a wall with a criminal? Okie dokie.” (—MC’s thoughts)
“I don’t get laid to get paid, fellas!” (—MC’s thoughts)
“I was searching for Captain Tsugaru, expecting a gorilla, and now I’ve run into this total hottie instead. I should be used to hot guys, though. I mean, the instructors... (...) he gives me a charming smile, and I mentally thank his parents for making him.” (—MC’s thoughts)
“My mental image of Kaga scares me into stepping forward.” (—MC’s thoughts)
“Get him a hundred roses! If I could pull a move like that, I’d straight up date myself.” (—MC’s thoughts)
“Did they just say I’m being treated like a pet? In that case someone should definitely call animal welfare on my behalf...” (—MC’s thoughts)
“...You womanizer. Tastebud psychopath. Waste of a handsome face. Emotional chair-flinger.” (—MC insulting Tsugaru)
“I thought it must have been with a special lady if he came to such a fancy place before. Sorry Kaga. You’re not a lady, but you’re definitely special.” (—MC’s thoughts/ Tsugaru’s route)
“Praise the gods for Seiji Goto, the shining beacon of Public Safety!” (—MC’s thoughts/ Tsugaru’s route)
“Wow, what a love fest. Am I intruding here?” (—MC’s thoughts about Tsugaru and Momose)
“I have a second stomach when I’m not the one paying. And besides, isn’t this a date?” (—MC to Tsugaru/ Tsugaru’s route)
“We’ll do it for sure. Like bunnies! Oh yes! As they say... nothing ventured, no one gets laid.” (—MC’s thoughts, as Shinonome’s girlfriend)
“I guess I just don’t tickle Shinonome’s pickle...” (—MC’s thoughts, as Shinonome’s girlfriend)
“That’s him! I’d recognize his cute butt anywhere!” (—MC’s thoughts, as Shinonome’s girlfriend)
“He could’ve dragged me into some secluded room and had his wicked way with me! That would’ve been nice! I would’ve flung my undies with abandon if so!” (—MC’s thoughts, as Shinonome’s girlfriend)
“Your eyelashes are so long, I was thinking it would be a pain if they stabbed me.” (—MC to Tsugaru)
“(...) He’s seen my abs. In fact, nothing makes him splutter faster than a glimpse of these babies.” (—MC’s thoughts, as Shinonome’s girlfriend)
“His mushroom- I mean, silky hair... His pride and joy has turned into a bird’s nest!” (—MC’s thoughts about Shinonome)
“I’ve come to the conclusion that I suck at everything.” (—MC to Namba)
“Kaga’s niceness is so subtle you can blink and miss it.” (—MC’s thoughts about Kaga)
“He’s a brute! A fiend! He’s not my boyfriend or a detective, he’s the ruler of the underworld!” (—MC’s thoughts about Kaga)
“Sorry! I wasn’t thinking you two are cute or anything!” (—MC talking about Ishigami and Kaga in front of them)
“I do enjoy sleeping in your arms, of course… But I much prefer it when you make love to me.” (—MC to Goto)
#her love in the force#hlitf#voltage inc#otome game#love 365#voltage otome#voltage#hlitf mc#hyogo kaga#ayumu shinonome#jin namba#seiji goto#hideki ishigami#shusuke soma#hlitf quotes#quotes collection#quotes
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I Thought You Knew
Dean’s doing great with social distancing - or not bad, anyway - and then Charlie just has to try to put him in contact again with his old crush, Castiel. But they’re going to be able to keep things strictly professional and ignore their history - right?
~5k. Content information: this fic is set right now and mentions some small difficulties with self-isolation, but contains no mention of the pandemic itself.
Read here on AO3 if you prefer!
—————————————
It was all going just fine until Castiel got involved.
Well, for a given value of ‘fine’, anyway. If Dean was honest, social distancing wasn’t proving to be a picnic. At first he’d been sure he’d have no trouble – thought he’d have time to relisten to all his favourite albums, learn to cook brisket. First figure out what exactly brisket even was, actually, and then learn to cook it. With the world in such a state, and with so many things to worry about, Dean had thought that he’d at least be able to deal with being isolated.
Dean could really, really not deal at all with being isolated.
He was climbing up the walls by day three. There was something about only having himself for company, only his own face in the mirror to see and only himself to talk to, that seemed to flick some kind of switch in his brain. When he took his one piece of exercise a day, he made it a walk instead of a run so that he could go slowly and smile at people as he went. Him. Dean. Smiling at people on the street. Exchanging small talk about the weather with them.
It was only the fact that a whole lot of other people seemed to be doing it too that gave him any reassurance he wasn’t going completely soft.
By day five, he’d messaged Charlie so many times that she’d decided he needed some kind of project.
And that was how Castiel came into it.
Because Dean and Charlie had been due to move in together, had even put a deposit down on a place. It was there, ready for them. They just had to wait until isolation wasn’t so necessary to be able to move in. And so Charlie’s project for Dean was to figure out the interior decoration of their new place.
“I’ll suck at it,” he told her over the phone.
“Right,” Charlie said disbelievingly. “You think I haven’t noticed your tasteful curtains? The counterpane on your bed?”
“The hell is a counter-pain?”
“It’s the thing on your bed,” Charlie said, with more patience than Dean would’ve expected, which made him narrow his eyes. There was some part of this that he wasn’t going to like, and she hadn’t told him yet, and she was being nice so that he would be nice.
“Right. Well, anyway, yeah,” he said, deciding to agree now while the part he wouldn’t like still hadn’t come up, so the agreement to that part would be a separate issue. After all these years of knowing each other, Dean had his tactics. “Okay. Fine. I’ll do it. Consider our place’s design sorted.”
“Cool,” Charlie said quickly. “Cool, cool, cool. Um, so I’ll just let Castiel know, then, and you guys can –”
Dean, who had been walking from his kitchen to his living room, tripped over his rug. He grabbed the door frame to catch himself.
There was a moment of silence on the phone.
“Are you alive,” Charlie said after a second, tentatively.
“Castiel,” Dean said. “Castiel Novak?”
“Um. Yes?” Charlie said, trying to sound small and charming.
“Charlie, you’re kidding me.”
“I know,” Charlie said, drawing out the ‘o’ into a little understanding wail. “But after we graduated he went into interior design, and he’s so good at it, so back when I thought we’d be too busy to, you know, do the decorating ourselves after we moved in, I just sort of… spoke to him about it… and he said he’d do it for a really reduced rate, and scrap the consultation fee, so we’d basically just be paying market prices for whatever he chose, and…”
She kept rambling, filling up the space so that Dean couldn’t get an argumentative word in edgeways. He wasn’t sure he even had the words to be able to protest with, anyway. He scrubbed a hand over his face, and then looked down at his toe, which hadn’t enjoyed the trip on the rug.
“But you know I hate the guy,” Dean said when Charlie finally ran out of things to say. He’d meant it to sound jokey, but it came out just a bit too quiet.
There was a little rush of static down the phone as Charlie sighed.
“I know,” she said, in the gentlest tone of voice she had. “I know you do.”
“Can’t I just do it all, now that everything’s like it is?”
“It’s just… the deal he’s giving us is really good,” Charlie said, and he could hear the wretchedness in her tone.
“He can still do the deal?”
“Oh, yeah. His business is doing okay. You know what he’s like. He’s always got seven strategies for everything.”
“Right.” Dean bit out the word. He did know what Castiel was like. Or rather, he’d thought he did.
“But what with… everything… we won’t be able to afford any decent interior design if the deal with Castiel falls through. Which is, like… the least important problem in the whole world right now, maybe. But when this is over I want to live in a nice place with you, dude. Like we always said we would.”
Dean let out a breath.
“A special place of our own…” Charlie wheedled.
Ugh.
“In the centre of the city,” Dean said, after a second.
“With a kitchen island for you –”
“– and a gaming den for you –”
“– and a giant TV for both of us,” they finished together. They’d been wanting this since their first year of college. They’d worked so hard for it, to be able to live together and away from the pasts they’d struggled to leave behind.
Speaking of a past that Dean wanted to leave behind –
“But… Castiel Novak,” he said.
“Dude, listen. It’s going to be like, one Zoom call. Maybe two. Everything else you guys can do via email. And he’ll be completely professional, I’m like, one hundred percent sure.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Huh. Okay. So, you don’t think, just for example, just say, I don’t know…”
“Dean,” Charlie said, trying to head him off, but Dean was in full swing now.
“You don’t think he’ll, say, pretend to be really enjoying the job, and keep spending loads of time on the job, and definitely seem like he’s ready to start doing the job on a more permanent and exclusive basis, and then suddenly have a one-eighty and decide not to do the job at all?”
“Dean,” Charlie said again, and her tone of voice hovered between understanding and amusement.
Dean swallowed. He didn’t want to put any of it into words – how much it had really meant to him, what he’d felt growing between him and Castiel back in college. How happy it had made him when he’d thought that Castiel felt the same. And how much it had hurt when Castiel had blown him off for their first date, twice, to hang out with other friends.
“Listen,” Charlie said, “I swear. A couple Zoom calls, some emailing, that’s it.”
“Is he still…” Dean didn’t know how to phrase his question.
“Kind? Polite? Occasionally grumpy? Yeah. But he’s super not hot anymore, so.”
Dean made a sound of disbelief.
“When you’re emailing,” Charlie said, “you can just pretend it’s someone completely different, anyway, right? And I’ll help any way I can.”
Dean narrowed his eyes.
“Any way?” he said. “Fine. I’ll do it. But you have to be there.”
––––––––
Sitting in his lounge at noon the next day, Dean logged onto his Zoom, and started the meeting.
He’d insisted that he be the host. Castiel had apparently protested that he had a Zoom enterprise plan and he could host the call, but Dean got a business account through his work, and somehow it made him feel better to be the one arranging the time and starting things off.
He was calm.
He was in control.
He was going to talk to Castiel Novak about interior design.
And it was going to be fine. Years had passed since those days in college when Dean had felt so strongly for him. He was a different person now, and so was Castiel. This wasn’t going to be a big deal.
Someone logged into the meeting, and Dean’s heart skipped heavily, thudding hard and uneven in his chest. He squared his laptop on his coffee table, sat up, resisted the urge to look down at himself on the screen and check his hair –
“Hey, Dean,” Charlie said, and Dean breathed out.
He looked down at himself, and checked his hair.
Still fine. He looked fine. Just normal.
“Dean? Can you hear me?”
“I can hear you,” Dean said. “Sorry, hey.”
“Are you still mad at me?” Charlie’s picture on Dean’s screen was a little grainy, but he could see the half-grin, half-grimace on her face. “Look, I’ve been thinking, and it’s probably really unfair of me to just –”
“It’s fine,” Dean grunted, waving a hand. The last thing he needed was for Castiel to log onto the meeting right at the point when Charlie was reassuring him through this encounter with his years-old crush. “It’ll probably be good.”
“… Okay?” Charlie said, with the confusion of someone who was getting away with something much more easily than they’d expected.
“I get veto power over any weird crap you try to put into the design, though.”
“Like you wouldn’t assume you have that anyway,” Charlie said. Dean made a face, and then sent her an expletive via private message. “Charming,” Charlie said.
A third person joined the meeting.
Dean felt his heart rate soar. There was only one other person who had the invitation. This had to be him. Dean licked his lips, cleared his throat, brushed at his nose, shifted on his sofa, and then tried his best to sit still and look relaxed.
The picture flickered to life. There he was.
Castiel Novak, on Dean’s laptop screen. His hair was still unruly, and his narrow-eyed expression as he waited for the call to load was a familiar one. Familiar enough to make Dean’s chest ache.
“Hello?” Castiel said, and Dean was gone. He was gone. That low, rumbling voice was just the same as it had always been. If Dean had known how to breathe a second ago, he was now having trouble remembering exactly.
“Hi, Castiel,” Charlie said easily, as Dean typed out a quick salvo of messages to her.
>> fuck you he’s still exactly the same >> he’s still hot >> fuck this
“Dean, you can hear Castiel, can’t you?” Charlie said, her tone edged with an instruction. Be polite.
“Uh.” Dean looked at Castiel on his screen. He didn’t know why these words were so hard to say. When he spoke them, they came out far too soft. “Hey, Cas.”
Castiel blinked. Some of the tension seemed to go out of his shoulders.
“Hello, Dean,” he replied.
Dean almost wanted to laugh. He almost wanted to leap through the screen to where Castiel was. He definitely wanted to shut his laptop and throw it out the nearest window.
He settled for ducking his head to hide the slight smile he couldn’t repress, and the hurt that he knew had to be showing in his eyes. How did this feel so good and so bad all at once?
“Okay,” Charlie said, her tone bracing. “Thanks for coming to the meeting, guys. Dean, you’re recording this so we’ve got a transcript for later, right?”
“Sure am,” Dean said.
“Castiel, you’re comfortable with that?”
“Of course,” Castiel said.
How could Castiel be sitting there? Just sitting there in front of his bookshelves, looking that good and talking and moving like a real person? Dean had spent so long after they’d stopped talking just thinking about Castiel, arguing with him in his mind, picturing what could have happened if things had gone better between them. If Dean hadn’t been wrong about the way that Castiel had felt.
But now Castiel was just there. Dean could yell at him, right now. He could ask him what had happened. He could demand to know if there had ever been a time when Castiel had wondered if there was something going on between them.
Or he could just sit back, and listen to Charlie and Castiel get started on talking about paint and sofas and styles of wooden flooring.
>> you’re not talking >> say something
Dean read the messages from Charlie in the chat and blinked, and tried to focus on the conversation. Castiel was explaining the initial thoughts that he’d had about their place, and how they could use the space. Dean made an attempt at being able to interject with something relevant. Castiel’s voice sounded so good in his ears. Seriously, the guy could read the phone book and Dean would be on one knee. How had he forgotten the way that Castiel’s mouth moved when he spoke? The shape of his lips?
>> earth to dean, what is going on
When the new message from Charlie came through, Dean frowned. He’d tried to talk, but it wasn’t working. Instead, he typed out,
>> he’s just still the same
He hoped the message would be enough of an explanation. He saw Charlie glance towards the chat, and then launch into talking about her own thoughts on how they could repaint the exposed brick in the kitchen. Castiel nodded along seriously.
“And a kitchen island,” Dean blurted out. Charlie and Castiel both stopped talking. Charlie rolled her eyes, while Castiel’s mouth flicked upward in a smile.
“Ah, yes. The kitchen island. Of course. There are a few options for the shape…”
Of course, Dean repeated in his mind. Of course.
He typed out to Charlie,
>> I think he remembered I want a kitchen island?
Castiel kept going, mentioning a few websites that he thought Dean might like to look at and then sending them in the group chat for everyone to see. Dean nodded at them, and made filler noises as Castiel talked some more about different countertops.
Dean pressed his lips together hard for a second. It was messing him up that Castiel remembered something so small about him as the kitchen island thing. Who remembered that about someone they didn’t think was special? Someone they didn’t actually care much about?
>> Dean?
Charlie’s message was simple. He must be looking upset. Dean steeled his jaw, swallowed hard, and typed back,
>> just wish we’d’ve worked out.
On the screen, Charlie’s eyes narrowed into the briefest of winces. She replied to Castiel, giving Dean the space to be quiet.
The rest of the call was uneventful, because Charlie made it so. Castiel shared a couple of pictures with the two of them, and they both nodded enthusiastically. For half an hour, they talked about fabric colours and feature walls and where to put the TV.
Dean spent most of the time thinking about the kitchen island, and Castiel’s hair, and what it had felt like when Castiel had ditched him.
“Okay,” Charlie said eventually. “You’ve given us a lot to think about. Loads of great stuff, Castiel. Thanks so much.”
“My pleasure,” Castiel said.
“Yeah, thanks, Cas,” Dean said. Even those three words came out stilted and husky.
“You’re welcome,” Castiel said, and looked as though he were going to say something else, but then didn’t.
“Dean’ll send you the transcript, just so we’ve all got it for reference,” Charlie said. “Okay. I’m gonna sign off now. Bye, guys!”
“Bye,” Dean said, hurrying to end the meeting with a click, not wanting to be faced with even a second of screentime with just himself and Castiel. He tapped to ring off, just as Castiel said,
“Goodb-”
Dean stared at the screen for several seconds, in the sudden quiet of his lounge. He looked around the room, trying to find some solace in the familiarity of his own place and his things, find the ground under his feet again. That had been Castiel.
They’d talked. They’d actually spoken.
He’d still been so –
So Cas.
Dean gritted his teeth. He knew where that line of thought and feeling went – somewhere Castiel didn’t want to go. Somewhere that would leave Dean on the end of a phone in the middle of the street with a pit in his stomach and a reservation at the nicest restaurant in town that no one was going to keep.
He clicked across his screen, grabbing the transcript and firing it off in an email to Castiel. There. Done. Finished.
––––––––
Two days later, Dean got an email from Castiel, to schedule a Zoom meeting.
“I told you,” Dean growled at Charlie over the phone. “I wanted to be the one hosting.”
“I know,” Charlie said. “But look, he’s got it all figured out. Can we just go along with it?”
Dean closed his eyes. No, he wanted to shout. No. I want to feel like I have a handle on this, even if it’s just the tips of my fingers. No. I need this –
He ground his back teeth together, and lifted his chin even though no one could see him.
“He better have some great suggestions for storage,” he managed.
And so here they were, three days after the first Zoom call, with Dean being the one to open up an invitation to a meeting, this time. As the screen loaded, he took a gulp of the beer he’d put into a mug. It was eleven in the morning, and he needed it.
He needed it through the discussion about the bathroom surrounds.
He needed it through the debate over curtain colours.
He needed it every time Castiel pulled a thoughtful face, or smiled, or licked his lips – god. Then, Dean drank twice.
“If that’s all,” Castiel said, “I have another call in fifteen minutes.”
“Perfect,” Charlie said. “And Dean, you’d better check the transcript for this one. I could see you spacing out over there.”
Dean opened his mouth to defend himself, and then realised every defence he could make was something that he couldn’t say in front of Castiel, and closed his mouth again.
“Fine,” he said mutinously.
“Great. Bye, guys!”
Dean rang off without a word.
He went and ate some food to settle himself. Once he had an entire plate of pasta inside him, he felt slightly more able to go back to his laptop and open it up and check his email. Sure enough, there was the transcript in a message from Castiel.
With a roll of his eyes, Dean opened it. If he didn’t, Charlie would start making all kinds of decisions about their new place without him – and through all of this awkwardness, he still wanted to be able to have a say in the decoration of their apartment.
Hello, began the transcript. Good to see you again thank you for coming can you both hear me well…
Dean read on a little way. At one point, Charlie started talking at length about the pattern she wanted on the wall in her bedroom, some kind of stencilled effect; Dean almost skipped ahead, but stopped and frowned. Intercut with Charlie’s speech were some messages – messages from Castiel.
>> Dean looks good today. >> Like he always does.
Dean felt a flush race from the top of his head to his toes, and then bounce back up. He read the messages over again, and then again, his eyes wide. Was – was this a mistake? Some kind of glitch? But the messages were right there, in black and white.
Castiel had thought that he… looked good?
As he stared at the screen, something caught his eye. Dean sat forward on his sofa, gripping his laptop as he scrolled down further. Another message.
>> I’ve missed him so much.
One hand raised involuntarily to cover Dean’s mouth for a second. How had he missed these messages when they came in? Dean read back over them once again, even more carefully, and felt a second rush of hot static go through him.
These weren’t messages to the group chat. These were private messages. Messages that Castiel had sent just to Charlie, during the call. Dean kept reading.
>> Ever since the last time we spoke, there hasn’t been one day that’s passed that I haven’t thought of him.
Dean swallowed hard. These – these weren’t casual messages, thrown into the conversation. These were – these were – Dean didn’t have the words for it. Were they true? Were they real? Surely not, how could they be?
>> Even when I’m not thinking about him, there’s always a part of me hoping he’ll call. And I hate phone calls. But I wouldn’t from him.
That was the last of them. Dean set down his laptop carefully on the end of the sofa. He could feel that his cheeks were bright red. His heart was racing. He was too – it was too much for him to be able to smile, or text Charlie, or even move.
What did he do now? Castiel had sent all those messages privately. Did that mean Dean had to pretend he’d never seen them? Dean grabbed suddenly for his laptop, pulled up a search browser and typed in Zoom call private messages printed transcript.
A few seconds of reading later, he set the laptop back down. His hands were shaking slightly. So, it was because Castiel was the host of the Zoom call that the transcript automatically put all his private messages in, as well as –
Dean stopped.
The transcript.
It printed out the host’s private messages.
This time, it had printed out Castiel’s messages. But last time –
Last time –
Dean dropped his head into his hands.
“No,” he said out loud.
He looked up, around his lounge. The lounge that had been the same after he’d seen Castiel again three days ago. The lounge that had been the same after Dean had seen Castiel’s private messages. And the lounge that was still the same, even now, when he realised Castiel had seen Dean’s.
What was it that he’d said? Something about Castiel being hot. And – Dean covered his face again.
“No. No. No,” he said. But he couldn’t make it untrue. Castiel had seen the message that Dean had sent to Charlie, wishing that things could have worked out between him and Cas.
The shame was like a punch to the gut. Castiel had been only too clear about his feelings in college, when he’d taken care to escape both the dates that they’d set up.
Except… except Castiel had read those messages, and he’d – Dean stopped trying to suffocate himself with his own hands for a second. Castiel had read those messages, and he hadn’t run away. He hadn’t awkwardly ignored them. He hadn’t asked Dean to stop.
He’d responded in kind. He’d sent an answer, of a kind.
Dean grabbed for his phone, and pulled up his messenger. He scrambled to find his chat with Charlie.
>> Charlie??
He hovered his thumbs over the screen. He couldn’t think of what else to say – but the response was immediate.
>> Call him >> Trust me
She sent a phone number.
Dean stared down at it, his mouth slightly open. Was this happening? Was any of this real? Before he could wake up from the dream, he tapped the number on his phone screen and hit Call.
The phone buzzed in his ear, just once, and then the call was picked up.
“Dean?”
The single word was so heavy, so weighed down with feeling, that Dean took a second to be able to respond.
“Cas,” he said.
There was a moment of quiet. Dean didn’t know how to breathe again. He seemed to keep forgetting.
“Got your messages,” he managed.
“I got yours,” Castiel said.
His voice was so good to hear – so good. But Dean was twisting up inside.
“Look,” he said wretchedly, “Cas, you gotta just tell me. Has something changed for you? About… about us?”
“Changed?” Castiel said. “No. Nothing’s changed.”
It was a blow. It was the sudden dousing of a spark of hope. Dean felt his chest go hollow.
“Oh,” he heard himself say. “Oh. Right.”
“But… something’s changed for you,” Castiel said. “Hasn’t it?”
“For me?” Dean managed to say through his dry throat. “No, Cas.”
“… Oh.”
Dean wanted to hit something. This – what was happening? Castiel – he’d read Dean’s messages – he’d sent those messages back the same way – but now it turned out Castiel still felt the same as he had in college, he still didn’t want to date Dean. How could he? Surely when he’d sent those messages, he’d have known what Dean would think?
What he’d hope?
“Um,” Castiel said. “I thought this would… I don’t understand. When you sent those messages, I thought it meant that you… that you felt…” His voice trailed off.
“You know how I feel,” Dean said, and the anger was burning through in his tone of voice. “I don’t get why you’d send those messages, if you didn’t… you know… the same. Feel. The same.” Anger gave way to awkwardness as his sentence stumbled.
“I sent them because I thought – I thought you felt – I thought you’d want them,” Castiel said. “When I read yours, I wanted to reply the same way, I… I didn’t want you to be embarrassed.”
“You thought you’d save me from being embarrassed,” Dean said, “by making me think you liked me like that? When you don’t?”
“Liked you like what?” Castiel said, sounding startled over the phone. Dean made an actual grunt of frustration.
“Like… c’mon, Cas, really? Like that. Like, like like.”
“But I – I do,” Castiel said, so quietly that Dean barely heard it.
Dean’s chest seized.
“No,” he said. “No. You just said you still don’t feel that way.”
The hiss of static on the line was painful. But then –
“Dean, I’ve always felt this way.”
The noise Dean made was involuntary. He put his hand over his mouth again, just for a second, to try to catch it.
“You didn’t know?” Castiel said, and Dean knew him well enough to be able to picture the look of disbelief on his face. “But Dean, I… I thought you knew. I was so obvious.”
“Cas,” Dean said, “you ditched me for our first date. Twice.”
“What? You’ve never asked me out on a date.”
Dean’s mouth fell open.
“Are you kidding?” he said.
“Are you?”
“Cas, I asked you to meet me for dinner. I booked us a place. First time, you said you had to help someone with their homework. Second time, you said you got invited to go see a movie.”
“That – you – that was a date? No, I – I’d remember –”
“First time was right before midterms,” Dean said. “Second time was right after. You did homework with Meg, and then you went to a movie with Uriel.”
“Oh…” The penny seemed to drop. “But – no. That wasn’t a date, those weren’t dates – it was just going to be another group night… like we always had, with Charlie and Billie and everyone?”
“Group night? Cas, I booked us a fancy dinner, I was dressed up –”
“You didn’t tell me,” Castiel said.
“I invited you to dinner!”
“We were always asking each other to come over to eat together, and it was never a date,” Castiel said. “But – but it – but you – some of them were?”
Dean could feel his world crumbling. No – no, not his world. Just some parts of it. Just the spiky, painful, horrible part of it that had grown up twisted and aching because of Castiel ditching him.
“I thought you left me,” Dean said. “Twice.”
“I would never do that,” Castiel said. “You were the one who stopped talking to me.”
“I thought I had to be making you uncomfortable… trying to date you when you didn’t feel… but you would’ve – you would’ve said – yes?”
“If I’d known it was a date,” Castiel said, “I would have gone through Hell to get there.”
What could Dean say? All of these years of silence, all of the hurt, all of the worrying and thinking and arguing with a ghost, and the whole time Castiel would have said yes. He would have been there. He just hadn’t known. He tried to reach for words and nothing came. He tried to parse his own feelings but it was overwhelming.
“You didn’t say a word to me,” Castiel said. “You didn’t even give me a chance to explain.”
Dean opened his mouth, and then closed it again. He stared around the static sameness of his lounge as though anything he saw there could possibly have the answers.
“I was wrong,” Dean said, his voice hoarse. “I’m so – I’m sorry, Cas.”
Castiel breathed out, a huff of static down the line.
Maybe it was broken, Dean thought. Maybe even though – even though they both – even still – maybe they’d broken it too much to fix it now.
“I could have tried harder to talk to you,” Castiel said softly. “I thought you must have figured out how I felt and decided you were better off dumping me. I could have tried to talk to you about it.” There was a pause, and then he said, “I’m sorry, too. Sorry I let you go.”
“You really… you really feel…” Dean couldn’t even put it into words. “I mean, those messages…”
“I said I missed you,” Castiel said, in that perfect low rumbling voice.
“I missed you, too.” It was so much truth in so few words that Dean felt his own voice give. “Cas, I… fuck. Is it too late now? For this?”
Castiel took a moment to answer.
“I’m surprised every day,” he said, “that I still want you just as much as I did on the day we stopped talking. I kept waiting for it to fade. Waiting for myself to finally realise you weren’t coming back. But it was like it didn’t matter. Like the time passing didn’t matter. Like it couldn’t touch us.”
Dean couldn’t smile. He couldn’t do it. Now was the time, if there had ever been one, but it was too much, way too much.
“I get it,” he said. “I get it. I want you too.” It rose in him like a rush of heat. “I want you so much, Cas.”
“I’m here.” A pause. “You can have me.”
“Fuck… Cas, I… I…” The sensation was only just starting to feel like happiness, a happiness so huge that it was devastating.
“When this is over…”
“Come on a date with me,” Dean said. “Cas, date me.”
It was silent on the line. For a second, Dean’s certainty wavered.
“Yes,” Castiel said. “Now.”
“What?”
“Now.”
“But – we can’t – nowhere’s open, we’re not allowed to –”
“Now,” Castiel said. “We’re on a date. Right now. This is it.”
Finally, finally, Dean managed to smile.
“Okay,” he said. “Now.”
––––––––
A week later, Charlie sent him a text.
>> Haven’t heard from you in an entire twenty-four hours. Did I do good finding you a project?
Dean, on a Zoom call with Castiel, grinned down at his phone.
You did fine, he typed. You did good.
#whelvenwingsfic#destiel#deancas#destiel fic#thebloggerbloggerfun#online romance babeyyyyyy#I wasn't sure whether I'd be able to write fic about what's happening right now#but somehow this sort of helped
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