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princesslocket · 1 year

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I can do the same and ask for lore >:3c gimme the power of friendship/relationships lore for Locket and the twst homies!!

You know... Even after asking the question I kind of have the same reaction sljhgioeshg

While Locket does have a good amount of connections with the students of NRC, I feel like she struggles a bit to maintain those relationships. Not because she doesn't care (sometimes she cares a little too much) but because she can get lost in her own world and forget to communicate with others unless they're right there in front of her.

Ramshackle & Staff

Grim: They're pretty good friends! Or at least Locket thinks so! Really she just enjoys following him along on whatever kind of adventure he wants to do- Honestly, she indulges him a little too much. Whether it be feeding him to his heart content or appeasing his whims.

Ghosts: Every now and then Locket will make the ghosts little ornaments and trinkets just to have. It's mostly her way of thanking them for their hospitality since she really doesn't know what else a ghost might like or have use for kshvjsnv

Sam: Locket finds his endless supply of items extremely fascinating. Like she can get super specific on what she wants and Sam will almost always have it somewhere (hidden) somewhere in his shop. She once spent an entire weekend in the shop reading one of her favorite comic series with him

Heartslabyul

Riddle: Views Locket as a menace (derogatory). She's always eating all the apple tarts and doesn't even share!!! (She does but it's always coincidentally when he's not around. I promise it's not on purpose). He'd throw her out the dorms if she wasn't so nice- Really it's a pain how well the two get along when they're in club together...

Ace: Her self appointed older brother! Locket just liked his vibes decided he was her unofficial older brother day (unbeknownst to Ace of courses). The two of them get along as well as anyone else would - And they both end up getting into tricky situations more often than not even when they're both being mindful of the other.

Cater: Before meeting Cater, Locket was seriously against having her picture taken/posted online for fear that someone from home might find her you know 'cause if tsum's could appear out of nowhere then surely her family could too, right? But after being shown what differences filters and editing could make to her own photos, she reluctantly started to warm up to magicams and the like. She STILL doesn't really like having her picture taken but Cater is always kind enough to put a sticker on her face, cropping her out, or just not the posting the picture to keep her mind at ease.

Trey: He probably views Locket as a little menace (affectionately). The only times she visits him are when she's hungry for apple tarts, which is quiet often. And while he make the tarts for her, he has to wonder what would become of their relationship if he suddenly stopped making her the tarts- He's considered teaching Locket how to make them herself multiple times but is afraid of what would come next...

Savanaclaw

Jack: Low-key headcanon he has a crush on Locket and isn't even aware of it yet himself. He's just has some conflicting feelings and chalks them up to strong friendship vibes uwu

Ruggie: Out of everyone here, Ruggie probably knows Locket the most. And totally not because she told him anything but because he found out while snooping through her belongs (during book 2) He's been real good at keeping her past life a secret and all and Locket's real thankful for that but every since he found out, she's kept a subtle distance between them. Very few have noticed this besides Ruggie, Leona, Ace, and Lilia.

Octavinelle

Jade: Has her order practically memorized at the Mostro Lounge. I like to think that when business is slow he'll join Locket at whichever booth she's settled at and ask what kinds of foods she enjoys because there's no way the girlie can survive on the same exact meal each and every day.

Scarabia

Kalim: Her partner in parties! These two could dance and sing all day and night if you let them! Locket's waited YEARS for someone to match her lively energy oh boy was she glad to have found Kalim! They plan all kinds of activities to do together when no one else wants to party. It's usually up to Jamil to keep them both in check from overdoing it-

Jamil: Locket is a little wary of him- Even though her time with Kalim has shown her just how smart and reliable Jamil is, she just can't shake the feeling that he probably knows more about her than he's letting on. Of course, since she has no proof of anything she's on much better terms with him than she is with Ruggie.

Pomefiore

Vil: In the beginning, Locket exclusively avoided him because he reminded her of her mother (not to mention his massive online presence) but after The National Arcane Academy Culture Fair, Locket quickly warmed up to him. She doesn't go out of her way to make her presence known to him nowadays but every now and then she'll send him some sweets to eat even if she knows he'll throw them away (he doesn't but she doesn't know that).

Rook: They're archery buddies uwu They first met when Locket was trying to reenact that one scene in Brave where Merida was firring off arrows as she rode through the land on Angus's back and Rook found it amusing how awful Locket's aim was so he helped fix her form on ground and then by horseback and they've been friends ever since! And yes, Locket does give Rook some sweets to eat too!

Epel: Locket's always been an apple lover so when she heard about Epel and his history with the fruit she knew they were going to be fast friends! She quickly found out however that apple talk wasn't exactly the best thing to base a friendship on. Luckily for her, the two where able to find other common interests such as their shared love for blastcyles and potion making.

Ignihyde

Ortho: For some odd reason Locket's always been good with little kids. Probably because she has a hard time saying no and they take advantage of it but with Ortho, she never has to worry about that. The kid is smart enough to know what limit he should and shouldn't push and makes sure Locket is having just as much fun as he is! The two of them have spent countless hours making up fantasy worlds for fictional characters to live in.

Diasomnia

Malleus: He's her literal favorite person to talk to when no one else is around. Partially because Malleus never pries into her life but also because he's got such a comforting aura. She makes it a point to invite him to any and all events, even if it's just to walk around campus, but is rarely ever taken up on the offer. On nights when the two of them are conversing outside, Locket will sometimes fall asleep to the sound of his voice. And when she wakes up, she's almost always tucked back in bed with a few fairy lights lingering by her window...

Silver: It was strange how they became friends- Whenever Locket would wander off looking for somewhere quiet to be (the library, the forest, Sam's shop, etc) Silver was always sleeping right there! Sometimes he'd wake up to her placing a sandwich by him as she was preparing to leave and sometimes he'd awake to no one at all but with her blazer wrapped around him- No matter what happened he'd always seek her out later on to return her jacket/repay her for her kindness.

Sebek: He scares her. Being in the same club and should have helped her come to understand his character a little more, but really, it's just confused her more on who he is as a person. Let's just say the two don't see eye to eye (literally with their height difference and all XD)

Lilia: He helps tutor Locket when she's having a particular hard time understanding a subject. He breaks it down for her in ways she can get without having to do mental gymnastics. And if it's late when they're done, he'll invite her back to the dorms for dinner or walk her back to the Ramshackle dorm. (I feel like he wants to adopt Locket but can't because he isn't sure how Silver would take it XD And yes I'm implying that I can low-key see a ship happening with her and Silver or her and Malleus)

#omp yes please #ozrockbitway #thank you for this #these were so much fun to think up #some of them have been in the back of my mind for a while now #it's nice to get them written out #might add some more later #like for charas I didn't include #idk #we'll see #locket cantu #locket talks #twisted wonderland #long post #gif

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miomines · 2 years

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Hello there! Warning, I do rant a bit here.

I dropped my phone water at the beach a month ago, and I’ve basically lost all my sketches, photos and written drafts because I didn’t bother to back them up. I basically had no motivation to draw anything, because more than 200 drawing just poofed :(

I finally decided to draw something, and it was a bit of a struggle. I can’t download anything onto this phone due to storage concerns, so I’m stuck with the default notes app. It won’t let me zoom in, and I’m not used to using a pen that’s so fiddly. The app won’t let me undo more than 7 strokes at a time, so I can’t be too liberal with what I want to draw. It’s also inverted the canvas for me, seeing as I’m currently using dark mode.

I kinda just scribbled for a bit, before I realised I was probably sketching Meili. I say probably, because I didn’t use a reference, and drawing clothing with proper folds felt impossible for some reason. It might sound strange, but Meili’s a comfort character of mine — I hope you don’t mind.

I figured I’d just send this to you through an ask instead of making an entire post about it. You’ve been offline for a while, and I hope you’re doing okay. Stay safe out there.

don't worry about me being offline for awhile i was just being an idiot and not taking my meds

ANYWAYS u do not know how much this Warms my Heart and i am so sorry this took so long for me to reply to. honestly im amazed that a character of mine made an impact towards anyone especially meili bc she's such a self indulgent character for me

my energy right now is not fully stabilized I am restless and shaky but!! when i am not dealing with that i will draw meili specifically for u bc seeing this made me very happy

#also its for the best that u sent an ask about it because i probably wouldnt have seen it in a regular post #or i wouldve seen it during the no-med-time and then forgotten about it so this is better #answer

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fuckgiantkiller · 2 years

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Old Business: KILL THE VANDAL!

So, okay, I haven't posted on Tumblr in a while. And yes, the embarrassing truth is I'm back because of all the shit with the birdsite. In my defense, it's not like anyone was paying attention to my tumblr anyway (least of all me). At any rate, I was going through my old posts, trying to figure out where I left off before I stopped logging back in six years ago, and I rediscovered a couple of blogs I wrote about a longstanding film-project of mine, originally called VANDAL that I then ended up re-titling KILL THE VANDAL! in no small part because of these blogs.

What I never did was follow up on any of it. There were a lot of factors involved in this failure to return here and share what I was doing, including a dramatic move cross-country (from Nashville to Los Angeles) followed promptly by the loss of a parent shortly thereafter, and then just years of not wanting to be this personal and open online.

Anyway, here's the short version: (1) I finished KILL THE VANDAL! (2) No one gave a shit, and (3) that's okay.

So for the sake of looking back, here's the original blogs in question:

• "Failing in Private in Public" – a long behind-the-scenes post talking about VANDAL as both the best film school on earth (which it was) and one of the great failures of my life (which it might be). There's lots of BTS photos, details on how we made it, and a breakdown of why it sat on the shelf for so long. There's also an extended diatribe on a potential/hypothetical "Video Lab" blog project where I would write about the process of either bringing VANDAL back or digging into why it doesn't work and what I learned from the process of feeling that out. Obviously, I didn't do that. But then again, I put that idea out there and was met with resounding [crickets] so if you really think about it, that's kinda your fault.

• VANDAL becomes KILL THE VANDAL! – this follow up to "Failing in Private in Public" comes after I actually cracked VANDAL open again for the first time in years and realized I was maybe taking myself too seriously. It's not as long as "Failing" but it's still too long and rife with bad writing and bad grammar. Best excuse I have for that is I was probably stoned. Also features a deeply ugly sketch-up of the new title, also probably courtesy of an over-abundance of mids.

• And finally, the last time I posted about KILL THE VANDAL! which has the benefit of brevity going for it. It is deeply hilarious to me to see how I went from the sprawling self-indulgence/self-loathing of "Failing" and ended up here bemoaning my cartoon creation before vamoosing from Tumblr for literal years.

So, anyway, I finished it.

I wrestled it from the grip of the self-serious and self-loathing 24-year-old failure that was Me, dug in and finished the snarling, genre-bending monstrosity that 18-year-old me set out to make to start with. For better or worse.

Then I put the first episode online, with the seemingly clever grass-roots marketing scheme of holding the rest of the episodes hostage until it hit the deeply modest goal of 500 Views on Youtube; the idea being if people wanted more they would have to share it to drive that count up. Then I sat back and watched the views roll in!

All 457 Views!

youtube

That's right, it topped off less than fifty views shy of its goal. As of this date, five years after releasing it, it hasn't climbed an inch in four years. Honestly, at this point, I don't know if I'd ever post the rest of the series even if it did hit 500 views.

But mostly what I feel about that? Relief. Like, it's okay, I sort of feel like my business with KILL THE VANDAL! is no longer unfinished either way. Everything is off the shelf and out of my hands, and I did everything I could within my limited means to get it in front of eyeballs, and that's how it panned out. The important need to finish this thing I started is done, so what else do I need from it?

In short: Oh well!

Anyway, why am I writing this now, 5 years later?

I dunno, honestly. After I tripped upon those old blog-posts a couple things stuck to my ribs about them. That "Failing in Private in Public" post in particular struck a chord with me so many years later, and I felt I owed it to the version of me who wrote that to resolve the public anguish a bit. I wanted to turn this into a web-series and blogging project, and Grief and Alienation had other plans for me, so much so that it feels genuinely like a miracle that I resolved this unfinished business from my early 20's at all. Felt like I owed that blog post a follow-up.

But if I'm being very honest – and lord knows I'm already being pretty goddamn self-indulgent here, so why slow down now – it was this part that made me want to write this:

"But there's something in the way. I don't know what it is, only that it's self-imposed. Maybe it's this paper-weight of a feature reminding me of the time I tried and failed. Maybe it's good, old-fashioned, clinical depression. Maybe it's simply that I am, and always have been, a total hack, and that nagging, neurotic fear that I am a fraud with nothing to offer anyone -- audience, employers, whomever -- in this field and no marketable skills in anything else is entirely justified. "I don't know. I'm not sure what I’m doing. Even writing all of this is a shot in the dark. All I really know is I have to do something before I go crazy. I turn thirty in July and I'm still living what you might charitably term 'college life' long after I left college, and with no end in sight. And the debt and doubt and goddamn not knowing how to answer the question 'where do you see yourself in five years' isn't half as terrible as having nothing to show for the last five." ... "Guess I could use a hand knowing how to move on. I don't know where I'm going with this writing/directing/filmmaking thing, or where it might lead me, if I'm lucky enough for it to lead me anywhere at all. But once upon a time I got off my ass and just made a movie cause I could, and it hurts my heart feeling like that might be where it ends."

Reader, the haunting thing about it is this, and I'll begin with some caveats: in the subsequent five years, my life has gotten better in many ways. I feel more removed from "college life" than I did when I wrote this (although debt and the poverty line are still looming specters – I can't even afford to keep the Giantkiller website live right now). At the above point in my life, I thought I might never get to make anything else ever again, that my filmmaker dreams stopped and ended with unfinished KILL THE VANDAL, a movie that I did not like or relate to or particularly want anyone to see. I still don't think I like it, I definitely do not relate to the filmmaker who made it... but it didn't end there.

I wish I could tell the near-30-year-old who was fretting over "where do you see yourself in five years" and had nothing resembling an answer that five years later, he'd not only have finished KILL THE VANDAL! but he would write and direct two new short films that would represent who he is as a human being in all the ways KTV doesn't. That those shorts would screen at film festivals all over the world* and he would have a clearer understanding of who he is, what he is capable of, and what he has to offer.

*(albeit during a pandemic, which made for a lot of online-only film festivals; PRESENT ME: "invest in masks and hand-sanitizer, Past Me, invest in masks and hand-sanitizer" – PAST ME: "invest... with what money, Future Me?" – PRESENT ME: "uuuuuuhhhhhh")

And reader, five years later with all the work I genuinely feared I would never get to make under my belt, I am once again at a place in my life where I genuinely fear I will never get to make anything again. These things cost money I to make that I still do not have. I still feel like a hack. I still don't know where I'll be in five years. I still lay awake at night thinking, "this is it, that's all I'll ever get to do, and this may have all been for jackshit nothing who cares, why didn't I learn any other skills, what the living fuck am I supposed to do now, am I an absolute failure by every standard, most damningly by my own?"

I re-read that post and thought, "that's me three wins ago, and that's still literally how I feel right now." And it's the first time since the empty vacuum feeling of the end of my short films' festival run that a little hope has risen above that killer depression/anxiety combo.

If I was wrong then, maybe I'm wrong now?

So I guess I'm writing this for Future Me. Future Me who, if the trend holds, still thinks this way. We both know from experience how wrong I was then. How wrong was I now? How wrong are you then?

Please, please, please, Future Me. Do what you can. Make sure we're both wrong.

Anyway, with the business of KTV finally settled on Tumblr and everywhere else: if anybody but Future Me is reading this, keep an eye out for those festival-touring short films that I somehow do still like. I'll be sharing more soon.

[HINT HINT: You can find one of them on YouTube and Vimeo already, if you want to go look for it]

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bubbledumbbinch · 3 years

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Heya! Congrats on the 100+ followers!! Your writing is really good and I enjoy reading your works!

If you dont mind, what would be your headcanons on the TWST dorm leaders of what prefrences they have for a S/O? Like what would they want in an S/O? (Also Im sorry if this has already been asked Im also kinda new to your blog as well ;w;)

Hii!! And thank you 🥰🥺💕 that means a lot to me!! I hope you stay and continue to enjoy yourself here!This hasn’t been asked before so I hope you enjoy!!! ;w; I hope you all enjoy I had a fun time (and a difficult time) writing this out! I think I made it too long, again ;w;

I made this SFW uwu just some fluff!!!! But please keep in mind before you follow me, I MOSTLY POST NSFW works.

Warnings: slight story spoilers for episode 5, for Idia’s part, if u squint

Pairings: Dorm Leaders x Reader

I put things under a cut for length!!

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle would probably want a partner who does well in school - at least someone who tries to! It would go against his own desires to do well in life if he has a partner who doesn’t have the drive to succeed like he does.

He isn’t particularly fond of people who have a lot of potential yet waste it on being lazy. Like I said before, it goes against his own morals.

I also see him wanting someone fun-loving! Riddle grew up in an environment where fun was essentially taboo so he would be drawn like a moth to a flame to someone who has so much energy in them. Remember one of his best childhood friends is Che’nya so he would probably not hate the idea of joking around and being silly once in a while!

Someone who would love sweets like him! Not too often so he could maintain his shape, but someone who would love to indulge him once in a while!

Riddle would love to see an S/O who makes time for him and the unbirthday parties that Heartslabyul hosts! He feels like a good dorm leader and seeing you make an effort to come makes him feel like a great boyfriend too!

“Ah, Y/N, I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to make it today.” Riddle sighed to himself in relief. He feared his rose would come to the party late. “Ah, sorry Riddle! I was late because I was studying for Professor Crewel’s exam but I lost track of time!” You breathed out, a bit exhausted from running.

The redhead only nodded and smiled at you. “Don’t worry about it, my rose. We’ve only just begun the party, so no need to fret.” Riddle’s gentlemanly ways never failed to make your heart soar. “No no, I’ll make it up to you! I’ll bake you a tart sometime, you’ll let me right?” You playfully nudged at your boyfriend’s arm and smirked.

Riddle could only blush furiously. “Th-that would not be a bad idea. I suppose I would accept the gift graciously, dear, but only if we can cook it together. I believe it would be beneficial to both of us to learn!”

Leona Kingscholar

Someone who loves to nap with him like all the time

Leona would definitely want someone who is willing to praise him a lot. Growing up he never really had that and felt like he was overshadowed by his big brother, so this guy needs validation like crazy. Tell him how strong he is, how much you love him, how warm he is… he’ll scoff and look away but you could see the faintest blush on his cheeks. He secretly loves it.

I feel like Leona would like bratty tsunderes, for some reason. He would be the perfect teasing type for them and I think I can just picture Leona and his S/O getting into play fights that lead to something more, if you catch my drift.

Someone who can be “refined” enough for show so that when he brings you home to his family, they can accept you fully. The last thing he wants is his family pestering him about how his potential mate isn’t a good fit.

As tough as he may be he def wants someone at the end of the day to stroke his head and calm him down after a long and stressful day.

“Oi, herbivore, come here and be my pillow.” Leona’s gruff voice broke the silence of his room. He was sitting up on his bed while you studied on his desk. Giggling, you made your way into his bed, crawling over to where he was. Leona pushed your torso down gently and started nuzzling his head on your chest, and you could feel the vibrations coming from his body that was like a low growl. Or was it purring?

“Of course, anything for my big strong boyfriend, the best Magift player in the school, my one and only love~” you endlessly praised him, smiling at him as if he were a rare diamond. Leona only huffed as he wrapped his muscular arms around your form, effectively preventing you from leaving.

“Tch…. Damn right….” Leona mumbled. “Why don’t you tell me more while I start drifting to sleep?” Leona smirked. Running your fingers through his hair carefully, you obliged, feeling Leona’s breathing become more calm as you continued.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul would ALSO want someone who praises him, due to his years of being bullied. Call him beautiful, smart, tell him he’s the most cunning man on campus. He EATS IT UP. This man will swear on his life for you.

He also would want someone who has the ability to work hard… what? The Mostro Lounge needs extra workers sometimes! Azul thinks that if he can own the lounge, manage contracts, AND study hard for school, his S/O should be able to match him!

I can see Azul absolutely praising/spoiling his S/O too. Since you give him so much happiness in his life he should pay it forward, no? What would you like, a new dress/suit? A new piece of jewelry?

Someone !!! Loyal!!! Azul wants someone who he can feel secure with in a relationship, so he probably wouldn’t want you to flirt with anybody else since his insecurities will SPARK UP like crazy!

Azul wants someone who loves him for who he is, unconditionally!

“Angelfish… hello, good evening. I’m sorry if I am a bit more tired than usual, I just finished with ordering more inventory for the lounge and dealing with some paperwork.” Azul sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. You dropped your bags on one of the chairs of the VIP room and walked over slowly to your octomer boyfriend. Bringing your arms to his shoulders, you slowly begin to knead and massage his arms gently. Azul groaned at the contact, muscles aching.

“How is this, Azul? I know how hard you work, you deserve to take a break too, sometimes…” you spoke gently into his ear, kissing the shell of it. The contact gave him slight goosebumps. “Ah, I would love to but, I have so much more to do… I know it’s going to be a late night for me, so why don’t you head on to sleep?” You tsked, upset with his answer. “I know it’s late Azul, that’s why I’m here. You know, if you keep doing this you’ll get wrinkles, right?”

“Ahem! Well. Then, this might be a good place to stop if that’s the case…” Azul huffed, standing up quickly to retire to his room, you in tow.

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim wants someone who is cheerful! They may not be a ray of sunshine like he is, but I honestly can’t picture him with someone smug/gloomy. Kalim might be dense but he isn’t THAT stupid. I think he would be able to notice if you were upset which makes him upset.

Someone who is down for anything, Kalim would love to take you on a ride on his magic carpet at random hours of the day so be prepared to drop whatever you’re doing if you want to appease your impulsive boyfriend!

A fun loving person for sure, who isn’t super self conscious about what people think. If he asks you to dance with him he would really love for you to join! He wouldn’t want you to say something like, “oh, but I’m a bad dancer…” Kalim would shake his head and ask you why you would say that! It’s all about having a fun time together, right?

A patient lover is what Kalim would want as well, someone who’s kind, too. At the end of the day when Kalim is ready to sleep after his crazy antics, he wants a partner he can be able to lay next to and feel like himself.

Someone who loves him even if he weren’t rich, Kalim would want someone for their personality and not materialistic things or beauty. Kalim sees someone for their heart ! (*´꒳`*)

You yawned heavily while rubbing your eyes. Was that a tapping noise coming from the window? “Ugh…. What time is it?” Checking your phone, you saw it was 1:30am. You also had a text from Kalim.

*tap tap tap*

You groggily walked over to the window and opened the curtains to see Kalim sitting on his magic carpet with the biggest grin upon seeing you. Opening the window, you giggled lightly. “Good evening Kalim, fancy seeing you here so late.”

“Hi, Y/N!! I woke up and felt bored so, you wanna join me on a night ride around campus?” Kalim practically beamed at you, even this late at night. His smile never failed to make your heart flutter. The boy’s positive energy also transferred to you, effectively waking you up.Stepping onto the carpet from your window was your answer. After getting situated, you kissed Kalim’s cheek and held his hand. “Of course Kalim, I would love to.”

Vil Schoenheit

Someone who can tough out his callous words and treatment. Vil might be a bit much, but the reason why he does this is because he does it with the goal of ultimately helping you. He only wants to see the best out of people, including but not limited to his little sweet potato!

Someone who is patient. He knows he checks who the most beautiful person is quite often and he doesn’t do it to annoy you, it’s just for his own personal validation issues. Lay a hand on his arm, back, or head to give him praises and let him know he’s beautiful to you no matter what.

Someone who is willing to pepper him lightly with kisses (not the face though, he has makeup on!). He definitely eats it up and loves it so much, he feels like you are treating him like a king. He’ll pay that back tenfold and give you beauty treatments, it’ll feel like you’re at the spa on a weekday!

Vil is constantly posting on Magicam, depending on whether you’re comfortable enough to be posted on there he would want to make sure you are okay with him constantly taking photos to be posted on there. Whether it be food you cooked, matching couples outfits, or even pictures of you without makeup, be ready to face comments of all sorts coming from his fans.

“Mira Mira on my phone… Currently, who is the most beautiful of all?” You heard Vil speak outside of his room. Currently you sat on the small chaise at the foot of his bed. Vil told you he needed to step out for a second, so you could get ready for bed now. After putting on your sleeping clothes, Vil finally came back in, seeming more irritated than before. His eyebrows furrowed and his body looked tense.

“Vil, are you alright?” You questioned him as you made your way to his bed, slipping under the covers. Vil only sighed and exchange a quick “Mm.” as he changed into his pajamas and came to join you. He was turned so his back was facing you and he was a bit distant. You knew he didn’t get the answer he wanted when he got those search results back. You didn’t know how to convince your boyfriend otherwise but you decided you needed to talk to him.

“Vil, darling…” you spoke gently as you nuzzled closer, your chest pressing into his back. Your arm wrapped around him to pull him closer, to which he responded with finally relaxing in your touch. “You’re one of the best things that’s happened to me, Vil, I don’t know if you realize how lucky I am to have such a loving, caring, and talented boyfriend like you. Your beauty is simply the cherry on top of the person I fell in love with. To me, you’re perfect. I love you.” You ended your tangent by placing a gentle kiss on his shoulder, dozing off.

You couldn’t see Vil but he trembled lightly as tears silently fell down his face. “Thank you… I love you too, my sweet potato.” Vil whispered into his pillow. With you, he always felt like the most beautiful person.

Idia Shroud

Personality wise, I don’t think Idia would be picky. He’s a shy person and honestly would be surprised he could get an S/O at all! So is Ortho!

Speaking of Ortho, Idia wants someone who is kind and loving to his little brother. Knowing his partner loves his brother would only make him fall for you harder!

Probably someone who would give Idia his own space until he finally felt comfortable and wanted to take it further, he would prob take a few days to even kiss you!!!

Idia wants someone to be his player 2 :) like actually, come over and game with him and he’ll probably be the happiest boy ever.

Big big bonus if you love anime, cosplay, gaming, etc. It’s one thing to be an otaku like Idia but when he has a partner to fully indulge in his interests with?? It’s a win-win situation for everyone! He wants to do a couple cosplay one day if he gets the courage to ask you.

Someone who won’t pressure him too much. If you remember how Riddle pressured Idia into trying to speak publicly, you know how much of a scary situation it put Idia in, even though he was able to do it. Stressing him out is just gonna make him unhappy :(

Someone who enjoys spending as much time inside as he does! I’m not talking a hikikomori but someone who wouldn’t be opposed to staying inside with him 99.9% of the time lol

“Y-Y/N-shi, would you like to g-go on a date with me soon?” Idia fumbled with his fingers, looking away as he asked you. You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Idia, this is the first time you asked me to ‘go on a date’. Don’t tell me, are we actually going out somewhere?!”

“Eek! D-don’t be ridiculous, Y/N!!” He almost screeched the words out. Suddenly he pulled out a couple of VR headsets with hand controllers, and handed one to you. “Fuhehe, I just made a bunch of simulation locations. We could go to the park, a restaurant, even an amusement park..!” He grinned showing off his teeth.

You giggled at Idia’s enthusiasm, loving the way he gets after speaking about his own creations. “What a wonderful idea, Idia. Maybe we could take Ortho to the ‘amusement park’ too? We’ll be a big family.” You mused. Idia’s face brightened and a faint pink tinge covered his cheeks.

“F-family, huh? Ah, Y-Y/N-shi…. That would be n-nice…” Idia blushed as he considered what the future would bring for the both of you.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus would also mostly not have preferences on a person’s personality. Like, he wouldn’t say something like: “I want someone shy vs someone bold.” Anything his child of man does is interesting to him and he’s entranced by you!

That being said, Malleus would not tolerate rudeness, disrespect to him, Lilia, or his fellow dorm mates, etc. He may love you but he values those bonds more, especially Lilia’s and his grandmother’s.

Malleus wants someone who is willing to teach him human tendencies, since he is curious about them. Malleus will also probably never stop asking you about your life in the previous world, and listen passionately as you describe the hobbies you had, family members, etc.

As long as you continue to love and treat Malleus like a normal person and with kindness, he will continue to love you endlessly. He’s so unused to it that he will feel so special as you only coo in awe instead of fear away, if he showed you a magic trick or maybe donned more of his draconic features like his tail or long claws.

You walked with Malleus under the bright moonlight in the woods near Ramshackle dorm. His height and charm never failed to impress you. And his face, he was so very handsome. His striking green eyes always made you feel hypnotized and his horns were so well taken care of, you almost wanted to reach out and-

“Hm, Child of Man… you do know it’s quite rude to stare, yes?” Malleus chuckled and suddenly broke the silence, making you gasp. “Ah, sorry Tsunotarou. I-,” searching your thoughts, you just couldn’t think of anything quickly enough. “I just couldn’t help myself. You’re very attractive.” You murmured, admitting defeat.

“Oh? Do I not intimidate you, my dear? Usually humans and even other fae fear my features and tend to shy away…” Malleus looked down in thought as he continued walking. You wrapped yourself around one of his arms as he walked, effectively stopping him in his place. “Well, you don’t intimidate me! I like being around you, so, let’s keep it that way. I want to stay with you for a long time so don’t get too tired of me okay, Malleus?”

Hearing you say his given name only made the fae’s heart beat harder in his chest. Surely you knew what you did to him. He smiled down at you, green eyes softening in your gaze.

“I assure you I won’t, little human.”

#riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia #twst headcanons #twst dorm leaders #twisted wonderland x you #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #vil shoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader

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the-wild-wolves-around-you · 3 years

Text

hear those bells ring deep in the soul (a katsuki bakugo/reader fic)

Summary: Pro Hero Dynamight was Japan’s Number Two Hero. He'd worked hard to achieve his position, his fame. And now it was all going down the damn drain, along with his hearing.

~*~*

Bakugo is suffering from hearing loss as a side effect of his quirk, and he struggles with how to face this new challenge. Enter Reader with a healing quirk.

Pairings: Katsuki Bakugo/Reader; Katsuki Bakugo/You

Rating: M(ature)

Warnings: Blood & violence.

A/N: No spoilers or anything. This is just a self-indulgent AU fic with aged up characters. Everyone’s in their mid-20s. Fic title is from a song called “Achilles Come Down.”

Ao3 Link: Here

*****A/N Part 2: This post has now been updated to include the links to Ch 2

Ch 2 Tumblr Link: Here

Pro Hero Dynamight was Japan’s Number Two Hero. Actually, he’d argue he was tied for first place with the current Symbol of Peace, Shitty Deku. Their victory statistics were basically the fucking same, the only difference was the freckled idiot was made of smiles and sunshine and stupid fucking sugar or something. The whole world ate out of his scarred, fucked up hand, and Darling Deku ate up all the media’s attention in return.

In contrast, Bakugo wasn’t a “people person,” as Deku loved to put it, but… he also wasn’t the same fifteen-year-old brat who got muzzled on live national television. Pro Hero Dynamight was known for his crass, blunt language, his vicious streak of justice when it came to villains, but people also looked up to him. Extras cheered for him in the streets as he exploded past mid-battle. Children ran up to him on patrol and asked him to sign their books, their photos, their Dynamight merch. On one memorable occasion, that he may or may not have saved on his computer, a national news channel ran a live clip from a disaster site, a villain attack turned rescue mission after a building collapsed. The soundbite was only thirty seconds, a close up of a pale, dusty woman with a shallow cut on her brow. The splash of crimson and her bloodshot blue eyes were the only spots of color on her, everything else washed out in white plaster and cement dust, tear tracks carving grooves down her cheeks.

But the smile on her face could have lit up goddamn Tokyo.

“Dynamight saved us,” the woman had said to the news reporter, her voice full of awe and tears. “I-I got stuck under some debris, but I heard the moment Dynamight arrived, and I just knew we were safe. The battle was over a minute later, and then he just… pulled me out of the wreckage. He pulled us all out. He’s… the greatest hero I’ve ever seen.”

That was a nice stroke to his ego. And the dazed woman had been right. He had pulled everyone out of that building, and not a single person died that day, which only confirmed what he already knew:

Katsuki Bakugo was the best of the best. Deku might have been the better show pony, but Dynamight was an undefeated hero, fierce, fearless, ferocious.

Except right now… he was fucking scared out of his mind.

This couldn’t be happening.

“What?” he snarled at the extra in the white coat standing before him.

The man flinched and visibly recoiled, shuffling back a step and partially ducking behind his tablet device. When he spoke again, he’d raised his voice an entire fucking octave.

“I-I’m sorry, sir,” the doctor stammered, but then he seemed to regain his composure and lowered his voice a little. “I… I wish I had better news for you, Dynamight, but…”

He trailed off and swallowed, the jut of his Adam’s apple bobbing beneath the thin skin of his throat.

“But what?” Bakugo spat, something like magma roiling in his veins, pops of heat crackling against his palms like splatters of hot oil from a stove.

“B-But this… can’t come as a complete shock to you,” the doctor said as he glanced back at his tablet. “Other physicians before myself must have warned you of the risks.”

The risks. Bakugo bared his teeth in a silent snarl. What did this fucking extra, with his soft hands and softer body, know about risks? The heat in his palms grew until he could see their red-hot glow out of the corner of his eye.

“Well, who and how much do I gotta pay to fix it?” Bakugo demanded as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

“That depends,” the doctor hedged and adjusted the square black glasses perched on his stupid face. “There are a variety of aid types—”

“I don’t want fuckin’ support gear or aids,” Bakugo sneered. “I want mine fixed.”

Now, the doctor’s face grew pitying. “I’m afraid that’s just not possible, given a number of factors, most importantly your current occupation.”

“My current occupation?” the hero seethed, teeth bared again like a wounded dog, a cornered wolf, snapping at the world. “Are you fucking KIDDING—”

A hint of fear sparked in the doctor’s eyes, but he suddenly raised a hand, palm out in the universal symbol for stop. “Dynamight, sir, I know this is distressing, but there are other sick patients in these walls, so please refrain from using your quirk.”

“I’m not usin’ shit,” Bakugo snapped, but then the doctor’s eyes flicked downward, and Bakugo followed them to his hands, wreathed in sparks and flares of flames, lit up like a fucking Christmas tree.

The breath stuttered in Bakugo’s lungs.

He hadn’t even felt himself call upon his quirk.

Even worse… he hadn’t heard it when he did.

He dropped his hands quickly, shoving them back in his pockets. Bile rose in his throat, but he washed it down with blood as he bit through his tongue.

“There has to be… something,” he gritted out, curling his hands into fists in their confines. “A healer—”

“Healers are rarer than you think,” the doctor sighed and shook his head. “And what’s more, they’re usually specific and limited. Their abilities are tied to blood types or restricted to relatives or even limbs. One nurse here can only heal femur bones.”

“Bullshit they’re rare, I’ve met at least two goddamn healers just this month,” Bakugo spat. “These paramedics—”

“And how strong where they?” the doctor cut him off again, raising an eyebrow. “You said paramedics, so I’m going to assume their talents mostly lie in the superficial and basic: triage, stopping the bleeding, knitting skin back together, etc.”

“What’s your fucking point?” He was this close to punching the asshole right in the glasses.

“My point is the inner workings of your ear are much more delicate than a broken rib or lacerated arm,” the doctor said in a really condescending tone that Bakugo did not appreciate. “But let’s say you do find a healer specific enough and skilled enough to restore the hearing you have already lost without damaging anything else in the process. What then? I don’t imagine Japan’s Number Two Hero retiring less than ten years after his debut and hanging up his quirk.”

Bakugo scowled, heart kick-starting in his chest, his gut tying itself in a knot.

No. No, that wasn’t possible. Katsuki Bakugo was a hero, the best of the best. It was all he’d ever wanted, and he would be damned if it was taken from him.

The doctor must have seen as much on the blond’s face because he sighed and adjusted his glasses again. “Exactly. Which means you’re just going to keep destroying your ears again and again, and even if say Recovery Girl was still alive, the repetitive healing sessions would destroy your own body’s healing factor, and after a while, you would still lose you’re hearing.”

“Tch.” Bakugo looked away and gritted his teeth so hard they ached.

The doctor sighed. “You’re already at moderate hearing loss, Dynamight, so while we do still have some options, they are limited. Honestly… I’m surprised you didn’t come in sooner.”

He should have. He fucking should have. He’d been noticing little things for years, but he just brushed it off, yelled at Deku to speak the fuck up and stop mumbling, told himself his phone must be a piece of shit and that’s why he didn’t hear a call or message. The low persistent ringing he’d been experiencing since UA was harder to write off, but after a while, it was also easier to ignore.

Then, on his last mission, Bakugo was shoving some weak ass villain at a couple of cops. The battle had lasted less than five minutes, and he was still itching for a fight, his quirk burning just beneath the surface of his skin, like embers waiting to explode back into flame. In the next moment, a hand had suddenly clamped down on his shoulder from behind, and he’d reacted out of reflex, flipping his attacker over his shoulder and nearly blasting them in the gut for good measure.

“Whoa! Fuck, dude, it’s me!” Kirishima had yelped, his skin rippling and hardening in an instant. Wide, red eyes gaped up at him, and Japan’s Number Three Hero even looked a little worried. “Didn’t you hear me? I called your name like five times.”

Bakugo had dropped Red Riot like he was on fire. No. No, Dynamight hadn’t heard his patrol partner. In fact, all he could hear in the moment was the muted wailing of sirens, the low murmur of shouting extras, and the blood roaring in his head.

Now, two days later he was standing in front of a doctor who was telling him there was nothing more they could do.

But that was fucking unacceptable. He couldn’t lose his hearing. What kind of shitty hero would he be if he couldn’t hear where the villains were in battle or where stupid extras in need of saving were in rescue situations?

He wouldn’t be a hero at all, just a fucking liability.

Bakugo tried to imagine having to retire, to hang up his hero costume, to leave Shitty Hair in charge of their joint agency. What would he do? He’d wanted, and planned, to be a hero since he was five years old. He had no other skills, not really. It wasn’t like he could work a damn desk job. Well, UA might throw him a bone, offer him a pity faculty position.

The thought left a sour taste in his mouth.

“What… are my options?” he asked haltingly as he snapped his eyes up and locked gazes with the doctor. “You said I still had some.”

The man in the white coat blinked in surprise, but then he straightened up and tapped at his tablet. “Currently, you have a few options, but you’d receive the best outcome if we did them all together. First, we can get you fitted for some hearing aids for you to wear while you are off duty. They would significantly increase your hearing capacity in your normal day-to-day life.”

Bakugo felt his face pull into a scowl. “Off duty? I need them while I’m on duty!”

“If you wear them while using your quirk, you’ll ruin the rest of your hearing in one blow,” the doctor said with a straight face. “Hearing aids amplify sounds. Amplifying your explosions is the last thing we want.”

“Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do then?” the hero snapped, heat flaring through his body with a supernova.

“Since I assume you’re going to continue your hero work, I would recommend contacting a support gear company.” The doctor made a note on his tablet. “We’ll email you the contact information for several companies the hospital has connections with, and once you chose one, we can send them your file. There are numerous noise-cancelling devices out there, but given your situation, you will probably need to collaborate with them for something custom. The goal is to having something to protect your ears-- a helmet, headphones, anything really—while you are using your quirk. Between such a device and the hearing aids, I hope we can preserve what’s left of your hearing and maybe give you a little bit back. But I will warn you… you’re hearing will never be as it was. You should know that now.”

You’re hearing will never be as it was.

The words cycloned through Bakugo’s head, round and round and round, destroying every other thought in their path. He felt detached from himself, the doctor’s voice fizzling out into a muffled drone. His vision seemed to narrow and darken, like he was viewing the world at the end of a very long and dark tunnel. One minute, he was standing there in that examine room, and then he blinked and was on the street, people rushing past him like a river unbothered by the boulder in its current.

He glanced down at his hand, at the paperwork for his follow up appointment and his fitting for the hearing aids. Heat squirmed under his skin, in his veins, like something living, something that wanted to get out.

Bakugo bared his teeth, crumpled the paper in his fist, and let the heat rush through his body, down through his arm, and into his hand. He didn’t hear the crackle, but he saw the flares of light, trapped between his palm and the paperwork like fireflies.

Then he opened his hand, and he watched the wind catch the ash and carry if off down the street, out of sight.

He needed a fucking drink.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Several hours later, Bakugo stumbled out of his usual dive bar, the taste of whisky still burning a hole through the back of his throat. The night was colder than he anticipated, colder than it should be for the beginning of autumn, and he grumbled and cursed as he hunched against the wind. He squinted at his phone, debating on whether to call a car, but in the end it was too much trouble. He was less than a half an hour’s walk from his apartment, and it was late, so he wouldn’t have to worry about extras coming up to him for photos or goddamn autographs.

Besides, the whisky hadn’t helped to quench the heat writhing through his veins, in fact the alcohol only made it worse. Bakugo felt restless, all pins and needles and ants, so maybe the brisk walk would burn off some of that energy.

Decided, Bakugo turned in the direction of home and began the long, stumbling journey through the midnight streets.

Time passed as sluggishly as his feet, which he made sure to stare down at so he didn’t trip over them. Like he anticipated, he passed no one on the sidewalks, and few cars rumbled past him. It wasn’t surprising, this neighborhood was mostly shops that closed by sundown and a few residences. The dive bar he’d left was a holdover from past decades when this side of town was rougher, but Bakugo suspected the old man who owned the joint would live on for at least another decade, if only to spite the development companies that kept trying to buy him out. The ornery bastard was half the reason Bakugo loved that bar, the other half being their decent whisky and usually empty stools.

“Shit,” he mumbled as he suddenly slipped, tittering on the edge of the curb.

He shook his head and managed to regain his balance, but when he took another step, he wobbled again.

“Come on, you drunk idiot,” he hissed at himself as he stumbled once more.

Except… he’d been standing still that time.

“Hah?” Bakugo squinted down at his feet.

The pebbles around his shoes rattled and jumped. He didn’t think he was that drunk, but he slapped his cheek with a bit of heat to his palm. The snap of warmth and pain woke him up a little, but when he glanced back down at the ground, everything was still moving.

“What the fu—”

Then the road undulated under his feet like a living thing, and the shockwave hit him a moment later.

Bakugo barked a curse as he was bucked several feet into the air, twin explosions blooming from his palms so he could right himself and land on his feet. He snapped his head up as he skidded to a stop, and the breath stilled in his lungs.

Up ahead, a man stood in the middle of the intersection, staring down the road to Bakugo’s left. Black rubble and goo floated around him like asteroids trapped in a planet’s orbit, and even from a distance, Bakugo could see the crazed smile on the man’s pale, black-streaked face.

A moment later, several heroes lunged out from around the corner and barreled straight for the villain, only to be blasted backwards as the villain flung out his hands and commanded the black debris and goo to slam into the idiots.

The villain threw back his head and seemed to laugh maniacally. Bakugo couldn’t hear it, but that didn’t matter. Lava was starting to boil in his veins, burning off the last of the whisky, and Dynamight felt an equally crazed smile stretch across his mouth.

This idiot had chosen the wrong road to fuck up tonight.

Heat condensed in his palms like collapsing stars, and then he was exploding forward, the taste of ozone and nitroglycerin on his tongue.

Within moments, Bakugo was able to determine the villain’s quirk revolved around asphalt. The bastard was able to pull large chunks of it out of the road and then liquify parts of them until they were scalding and sticky.

The other heroes—whoever they were, Bakugo didn’t even care to check—struggled to evade the villain’s attacks, but evasion wasn’t Dynamight’s style. He came at the bastard head on, exploding every rock and tar puddle in his way.

Of course, asphalt was flammable, so flames were flaring up all around the street now, but Bakugo wasn’t stupid enough to get burned. If the other heroes were, that was on them.

Dynamight was here to get the job done.

“Come here, ya sonvabitch,” Bakugo snarled as he blasted apart a chunk of asphalt aimed for his head.

The villain shrieked out something high-pitched that Bakugo didn’t catch, and then the fucker was swinging out his arm, a blob of black tar following the arc.

Bakugo let out a controlled burst toward his feet and backflipped through the air, crunching down on the roof of a parked car. He could see some of the other heroes waving at him from the corner of his eye, but he couldn’t hear what they were saying over the wailing of the car alarm below him.

The villain’s sneer was a white slash on his black, goo-streaked face, and Bakugo bared his teeth back in an expression halfway between a feral grin and a beast’s snarl. He could feel the heat crackling along his palms as he contemplated his next move, but then the villain shouted something, and all the asphalt floating in the air rocketed back towards him like the fucker was a magnet.

As Bakugo watched, the debris and goo coalesced into a singular shape, liquifying and hardening in turns until a giant black arm the size of a semi was hovering over the road. The fingers wiggled in a jaunty little wave as the villain shouted something again that was lost to the car’s still wailing alarm, and then the giant hand curled into a fist and dropped down on Bakugo like the hammer of some god.

He exploded out of the way and up into the air right before the fist smashed into the car he’d been standing on, and the siren cut out with a muffled crunch.

Bakugo had barely landed before the arm was shooting out again, but this time it wasn’t aimed for him.

A stupid fucking extra had stumbled out of one of the buildings and stood gaping like a goddamn moron on the sidewalk. Several of the on-scene heroes rushed forward, but the hand swatted them aside like annoying flies. The idiot civilian was still just standing there, though, and Bakugo found himself airborne before he could even process the thought.

“Run!” he roared as he reached the extra and shoved him out of the way, but an instant later, he felt stony fingers wrap around his torso and squeeze.

Bakugo wheezed out a curse as the giant hand lifted him into the sky, the pressure around his ribs increasing with every second. The asphalt was hot in some places, too, scalding the skin of his left arm where it was pinned against his hip. He wrenched his right arm around and tried to aim at the wrist of the asphalt appendage, but the angle was off, and the few chunks he was able to blast were quickly replaced by more rubble and boiling tar.

“Fuck!” Bakugo screamed as the fist clenched down around him. His ribs strained, his lungs unable to expand, pain licking at him like the flames flickering in his peripherals.

Distantly, he heard the villain’s laughter below him, and as the arm swayed to the side, Bakugo realized he was right above the bastard. His vision swam, his ribs screaming, his arm burning, but Bakugo gritted his teeth as he aimed his right palm down. He concentrated every ounce of his quirk into his hand until it glowed white-hot, and the asphalt around him began to liquefy again.

The villain’s eyes widened as he realized what the hero was doing, and the fucker wildly swung out his arm in a last-ditch effort. The giant asphalt limb responded in kind, but Bakugo unleashed his quirk right before the arm flung him through the air.

A massive explosion rocked the street an instant later, and the subsequent shockwave slammed into his back and propelled him through a window.

He felt the impact and pain as he struck the glass, and then…

Nothing.

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

“Ouch, fuck!” you cursed as your pricked yourself for the millionth time.

A red drop of blood beaded up on the pad of your index finger, and you scowled before you sucked the smarting appendage into your mouth. It was more of a reflex than anything, since by the time you pulled your finger out, the pinprick of a wound was already healed. Healing such a small injury would usually barely even register to you, but the clock above your desk was inching closer and closer to midnight, and you’d been up since 6am. You also skipped dinner so you could finish altering the dress you were currently working on, which didn’t help your energy levels, but you were just a few stitches away from completing your task, so you hunched back over and powered through the next five minutes.

When you were finally done, you sat back in your chair with a sigh and threw down your needle and thread. The sewing table before you swam and doubled as your vision struggled to focus on something, and you rubbed at your tired, burning eyes. You always tried to work reasonable hours, have a healthy work-life balance, but somehow you always found yourself slaving away into the dark hours of the night. You tried to tell yourself it wasn’t your fault. You’d lived here less than a year, so you didn’t know many people beyond your few neighbors and the old ladies who frequented your alterations shop.

You were also trying very hard to keep your grandparents’ business afloat.

Your grandfather had been a tailor, your grandmother a seamstress. They’d opened a shop together over fifty years ago, and if your parents hadn’t moved to America before you were born, you were sure you father would have taken over the family business. In the end, though, after your grandparents passed, you were the one to take up the needle and pull up your roots. You’d always loved making your own clothes, and you’d always felt… disconnected in America. Nothing had ever felt… right, no matter how many jobs you hopped around to. The US had been the only home you’d ever known, but when you and your parents spoke Japanese together, it had made something ache deep in the center of you, something you couldn’t name or place.

So, when your father said he was taking a trip to the homeland to sell his parents’ shop, you’d gone with him and somehow convinced him to sign everything over to you. Which was more than just a little insane. Your prior work history had been in food service and clothing retail, and your degree was in linguistics for fuck’s sake. You had no idea how to run a business, let alone in another country. Thankfully, you spoke Japanese fluently, so that had been one less hurtle to overcome, but everything else had been a dramatic learning curve. Getting to know the new city, figuring out the currency, hell even navigating the vastly different social norms of Japanese culture was daunting, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t have numerous fumbles along the way.

It, everything, had definitely taken some getting used to.

Now, a year later, things were just starting to really look up. You had used most of the money your grandparents left you to renovate the shop, get new equipment, and fix the upstairs apartment you lived in. About two dozen loyal customers helped to pay your bills and keep you afloat, and one-to-two new customers walked into your shop each month just on word of mouth. You weren’t rich by any means, but you weren’t struggling like you did in America. You felt… happy here, if a little tired. Fulfilled.

That might also have had something to do with your little… side business.

You bit your lip as your eyes shot to your window guiltily, like someone was watching you. You weren’t doing anything wrong—right now, anyways—but for the last six months, it’s been hard to shake off your paranoia.

And your guilt. Which was ridiculous. You weren’t hurting anyone. In fact, you were doing the exact opposite.

But it was still against the law. Here in Japan, at least.

That was another thing that took some getting used to. The Japanese government had strict laws on quirk usage, unlike in America where everything was about individualistic rights. In Japan, only heroes were given almost free reign, but even they had some restrictions on when and how they could use their powers.

For the rest of the Japanese populace, using quirks in day-to-day life, without official permission, was frowned upon at best and illegal at worst.

Because of your specific quirk, you leaned more toward the illegal side of things.

Healing quirks were rare. That’s what you’d been told all your life. Your mother’s quirk was the ability to lower fevers by somehow using her own body to regulate the temperature. Nothing super special or powerful, but she’d gone on to become a pediatric nurse, so she had used her quirk to its fullest and made a long, happy career for herself.

When you were young and your quirk manifested, you thought you would follow in your mother’s footsteps.

But as a teenager, you’d come to some hard realizations about yourself.

One, you weren’t strong enough to be a hero. You’d tried to get into a hero course in the States, several in fact. One course rejected you solely on your application, and then you failed two entrance exams. It had been a devastating blow to your youthful dreams and self-esteem, but your mother encouraged you, said being a hero wasn’t the only way to use your quirk for good.

So, you turned your focus to medicine… and quickly discovered that wasn’t right for you, either. Your mother hated when you said this but… you just weren’t smart enough. You had tried, really did, but everything was such a struggle, like Sisyphus slogging uphill through the mud. It just didn’t click for you like it did for your mom. You also hated to admit it, but you were a little squeamish. You were fine with small stuff, cuts and bruises, broken fingers, but once you had to dissect a large pig in an anatomy class, and the smell and weight of the pig’s slippery organs in your hands made your lunch rise up into the back of your throat. You somehow managed to make it through the class, but directly after you ran to the bathroom and emptied your own guts into the toilet.

With your dreams of being a hero and doctor dashed, you’d been a little aimless in college, taking random courses to fill your time and see if anything spoke to you. Then, during an 8am linguistics lecture you signed up for on a whim, something ignited inside you. Languages spoke to you like science and medicine never did. So, you’d changed your major to linguistics, minored in Japanese to feel closer to your parents, and took ever other language credit you could get your hands on. In between classes, you’d taken up sewing again while you listened to your audio assignments. It was just something to keep your hands busy at first, a skill your father taught you as a child until you abandoned it, but then your roommates complimented your work and started asking you to hem their jeans or take in their skirts. They offered to pay you, but you always declined, saying it was no trouble, you liked the work, and you liked being able to help.

At some point, you realized that was all you had ever wanted to do. Help people. And if you couldn’t save them as a hero, you would find some other way to make yourself useful.

So, you studied languages in the hopes of being able to help others communicate. You altered your friends’ clothes and made them small things like a monogrammed scarf or mittens. And, occasionally, you healed your roommates’ hangovers or food poisoning, stopped the bleeding when they cut their fingers making dinner, pushing through their pain to make them whole again. It wasn’t a lot, nothing really, but it was something, and it made you feel purposeful.

When you moved to Japan, you mourned the loss of being able to use your quirk on others, but you shoved the thought aside and focused on your work and the shop and figuring out how to settle down in your first home on your own.

Then, six months after you took over the shop, Mrs. Kojima, a little old lady in her seventies, had brought in her grandchildren’s uniforms to be patched and altered. She’d known your grandparents for many years, so she was always kind and had a story to share with you about your father in his youth or the gorgeous dresses your grandmother used to make. You always looked forward to Mrs. Kojima’s visits, and she always had a way of making you feel younger than you were, but not in a bad way. She just made you feel… nostalgic and safe, like you were listening to your late grandma talk over the phone.

This was probably why, when Mrs. Kojima slipped and fell in front of your counter, you reacted without thinking. The old lady barely had time to hit the floor and cry out before you were hovering over her, a green aura illuminating your hands. Her pain hit you a moment later, like a heated slap to the face, a bone-deep ache in your leg, but you gritted your teeth and pushed through the discomfort. Then you moved your fingers over to the hip Mrs. Kojima was clutching, and a moment later you felt the drain as your energy siphoned into the elderly woman’s body. Thankfully, it had only been a fracture, not a full break, so you barely even felt the difference in your strength, but as Mrs. Kojima gaped up at you, realization struck you like a freight train.

You had used your quirk, without a license, without permission, hell without the consent of Mrs. Kojima. Healing quirks were illegal for a reason, so many things could go wrong, and you weren’t properly trained. Your breathing hitched as panic seized your heart, squeezing like a vise, and your entire world had just begun to crash down around your ears when Mrs. Kojima sat up and threw her arms around you.

“Thank you,” she’d sniffled into your hair in Japanese. “Thank you so much.”

After the initial shock wore off, you had helped Mrs. Kojima into a chair, and she’d continued to thank you over and over again, saying how money was tight and she would have hated to be a burden to her children with hospital bills and a long recovery. She talked about how a lot of her elderly friends were in similar positions, dealing with perpetual aches and pains but having no way to pay for treatment or seek relief.

The sadness in her face had twisted something in your chest, an ache you were all too familiar with. It was the one you felt after you failed the hero course entrance exams. The ache you felt when you realized you could never be a doctor. The ache of being helpless in the face of suffering.

Your mouth had opened without your permission, and you told Mrs. Kojima that you would help her, and her friends, whenever they needed it. The elderly Japanese woman tried to wave you off, saying she didn’t want to get you in any trouble, but you had just smiled and said, “I’m fine with making a little good trouble.”

You didn’t know where your courage had come from, but you let it carry you past your fears and doubts.

So, for the last six months, Mrs. Kojima had brought all of her friends, and sometimes their children and grandchildren, to you when they were in need of healing. They always brought dresses or pants or blouses for you to fix as a cover, and you did do alterations work for them, but you also eased flaring arthritis, cataracts, fevers, and scrapped knees in the backroom. You refused to take payment for these secret services, it just felt wrong, but the little old ladies somehow always snuck large “tips” into your register when you weren’t looking.

Mrs. Kojima and every one of her friends and family members swore to their ancestors to keep your secret, and you trusted them, but you still couldn’t help proverbially looking over your shoulder, holding your breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop and for the police to barge in and take you away.

It hadn’t happened yet, but the worry of it kept you up most nights, which was maybe another reason why you threw yourself into your work until you were so tired you just passed out.

You sighed again as you stretched and felt your back pop, releasing some of the tension in your spine. Glancing at the clock, you saw it was just past midnight, and you winced. You had to be up at five tomorrow—today, now—because Mr. Akane wanted to come in early before you opened the shop. His bad knee was giving him trouble again, an old injury he’d obtained as a boy. You were unable to fully reconstruct the joint—that took more strength and stamina than you currently possessed—but you were able to soothe his pain for weeks at a time, which he was immensely grateful for. He always brought you fresh fish when he came by, “gifts” he’d emphasized when you reminded him you didn’t take payment, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t appreciate the gesture. You weren’t exactly hurting for money, but you also didn’t normally splurge on fish caught just that morning, and you told yourself you deserved the small treat. Besides, the protein helped boost your energy and stamina levels, which meant you could heal more people, so really Mr. Akane was merely investing in his future treatments.

Your stomach grumbled at the thought of food, and you dragged yourself out of your chair before picking your way across your messy apartment to the kitchen. The apartment wasn’t very large, one large space for kitchen, dining, and living room, with one small bedroom and one bathroom down a hallway to the right when you walked in the front door. But it had been your grandparent’s home for many years before they bought a larger house after having your father, and it sat right above the shop, so you never had to worry about running late for work.

Bolts of fabric, some client pieces, and a few of your own personal sewing projects were strewn over every available surface of the main room, but you had the cleared path through the chaos memorized, so you were tossing leftovers in the microwave barely thirty seconds later. The warmed-up curry and rice—another “gift” from Mrs. Kojima—tasted as good as it had the last several days, and you hummed as the spiced meat slid down your throat and settled in your belly. After the first bite, your hunger seemed to hit you in full force, and you scarfed down every last bite in a matter of minutes. When you were done, the minor headache that had been pulsing behind your eyes abated, and you yawned as you rinsed off the dishes.

You set the damp plate on the edge of the counter as you reached for a towel, but then a sudden tremor, followed by a loud boom, seemed to shake the building, and the plate tittered on the counter’s edge for a moment before it crashed to the floor.

“Fuck!” you gasped as you jumped back and away from the ceramic shards, but another tremor-boom combo had you stumbling, and you scrambled to grab the back of the couch so you didn’t fall on your ass.

Your wide eyes took in the broken plate scattered at your feet before they jumped to the window on the opposite side of the room. The night sky was dark beyond, cut only by the dim street light just beyond the window’s view. You held your breath as your heart hammered in your ears, the hair on the back of your neck prickling, sweat slicking your palms.

What the fuck was that? Your first thought was earthquake—you hadn’t experienced one yet, but you knew they were common in Japan—but then you remembered the booms.

Maybe… maybe an electrical box blew? But no, the lights were still working. A car crash?

Then another boom vibrated you down to your very bones, and you fell to one knee as the breath hitched in your lungs.

That sounded… closer.

With your heart in your throat, you half scrambled, half crawled the last few feet to your window, and you peeked your head over the sill just as a flash off white-hot light lit up the night sky.

“Shit!” You squinted your eyes against the glare as you leaned back from the window, but then you saw a shadow streak through the air before it crashed into a car just at the edge of your peripherals.

You had the distant thought that Mr. Takeyoshi’s vehicle was very obviously totaled before you realized the thing that had crashed into the car was a person.

Your jaw gaped open as a hero pulled himself from the wreckage and shook his head groggily. The shadows—only broken by more flares of light as more explosions and fire seemed to erupt along the street—made it difficult to tell how injured the hero was. You didn’t recognize their yellow and teal costume, but you saw patches of blood along the hero’s bulky frame, and bile burned at the back of your teeth.

Holy shit. This wasn’t an accident. It was a villain attack.

Just as you had the thought, another explosion rattled your windows, making your ears ring, and you snapped your head to the side to see a man standing in the middle of the road about half a block down.

The man—villain, you realized quickly—swung his arms around like a conductor of an orchestra, but his instruments seemed to be the black rocks and liquid swirling around him. The debris glistened like an oil slick in the light of the flames, and as you watched, the villain shouted something and slashed his arm through the air.

Then a figure suddenly exploded onto the scene, lunging out from the shadows in a flare of white-hot light. It moved too fast for you to track, but the villain swung his arm again, and rocks and viscous black goo shot toward the figure still in mid-air.

A futile scream of warning caught in your throat, but then the figure seemed to explode and backflip through the air, landing on his feet but crushing the roof of a car beneath his boots. The wailing of the car’s alarm split the air, and you clenched your teeth until they ached.

The flames illuminated this new man’s face, a snarl of white teeth against the flames and smoke, but only the barest hint of recognition flared through you before everything exploded into chaos again. Another shout from the villain had all the rocks and black slime streaking back towards him, and you watched in horror as a stony black arm fifty feet long formed above the ruined street.

You knew you should be running, trying to find cover, calling the police, but you were glued there, on your knees before the window, you fingers digging grooves into the sill.

The next fifteen seconds seemed to simultaneously happen in slow motion and at hyper speed.

The giant rocky hand wiggled its fingers before it curled into a fist and slammed down on the wailing car and the man atop it.

The man—hero, you distantly thought, although your chaotic thoughts still couldn’t place him—launched up into the air with another explosion that rattled your windows, the car alarm cutting off as the vehicle was crushed an instant later.

The blond skidded into a landing half a dozen yards away, but then you suddenly saw Mr. Takeyoshi standing on the street, a ghostly apparition framed by smoke and flames.

You blinked, and the giant hand shot toward Mr. Takeyoshi, batting away several more heroes who tried to intervene.

Then the explosive hero was just there, pushing Mr. Takeyoshi out of the way, right before the hand wrapped around him.

You could hear the hero’s anguished scream through your window as he was crushed in the fist’s grip, and the sound hit you right in the solar plexus, knocking the breath out of you, bruising your insides, the pain settling into the familiar ache of being helpless in the face of suffering.

You watched uselessly as the hero was lifted up into the sky, struggling, setting off explosions left and right. Then the massive arm seemed to pause in the middle of the road, right above the villain, and your eyes locked onto the hero, his pale hair and skin stark against the black, rocky hand that held him trapped.

In the next instant, a white light, like a star going supernova, bloomed to life around the hero, illuminating the white slash of his snarling teeth before it became too bright for you to take. You slammed your eyes shut against the burning light, and the hair on the back of your neck stood on end, like the moment before lightning struck, as you dropped to the floor below your window.

Then the world exploded, the building shaking to its foundations, right before the window burst into a million shards of glass.

#bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugo katsuki/reader #bakugo/reader #bakugo katsuki/you #bakugo katsuki x you #my hero academia #mha spoilers #boku no hero academia #bnha #anime #fanfic #my writings #katsuki bakugo

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oh-for-fic-sake · 3 years

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It’s A Match Chapter One

Masterlist

Disclaimer

Summary: Filming is over and Henry returns home to and empty house. And he doesn't like it, things are getting to him and he doesn't want to be alone anymore. Then his brother suggests online dating, it sounds mad but henry decides to give it a shot. If worst comes to worst he just deletes the profile. He has nothing to loose right?

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Cheese, Self Indulgent Fic, Rpf, Plus sized reader.

A/N: so I wrote this before the whole 'girlfriend' shock and everything that has followed. I was of two minds whether to ever post it but honestly, this is my blog and I've clearly stated that i am going to continue writing Rpf. I want to do a little ficlet/mini fic and well here we go. It wont be smutty just somewhat angsty then fluffy. Enjoy~

Taglist: In Reblogs.

Henry slumped back on the seat in his conservatory and sighed, from here he could see his brothers and their wives outside, each snuggled up on the out door wicker sectional he had got to have the family over. It was the first family get together for over a year. He was happy, god it was amazing to see them but... He couldn't help being a tad envious.

They all had a family, wife and kids to go through this shitstorm in. He had no one, well he ha Kal. But that was it he sighed and looked away sipping from his cup slowly takeing a moment for himself. He needed to just chill, but it was getting hard... This year had really knocked him back he was at an all time low he hadn't felt like this for a long time. He knew he was depressed, he felt stupid there was no reason to be but there we go.

Henry had been getting himself all twisted for a while now, filming the Witcher helped but now that was over and he was home alone. Left with his thoughts in a big empty house.

"Sooo little brother want to tell me what's going on or am I gonna have to get mum in here?" Henry jumped at the voice and spun around to face his brother who was keeping a safe distance at the door. Wiping his hands down clearly just having washed them again.

"I ah its nothing, you know me I'm a worry wart" he said waving off his older brother he didn't want to bring down the mood of the small gathering, it was why he had come in here to take a breather.

"You called us all here for a visit hen, out of the blue when lockdown is still being eased out. Its clear you don't want to be alone, yet your sitting in here alone." His older brother said leaning on the door frame folding his arms trying to figure out what was really going on. He could see his little brother was hurting he wanted to help.

"I've got Kal" Henry said with a chuckle and looked about for the bear only to frown and sigh seeing the room was empty apart fro him and his brother.

"Kal's outside with the kids hen, what's up? You can tell me you know" henry sided as his sibling moved sitting in the small seat across from him. He knew that his family would listen but he felt so... spoilt like he was asking too much and was being selfish. It wasn't like him.

He grunted leaning back choosing not to look at his brother instead focusing on the cup in his hand. He spun it slightly then heaved a sigh. He wasn't getting away with not speaking about it, he was going to air out his worries one way or another. With his brother or his mother, and he loved his mother but this was? He wanted to keep this issues close to his chest. So far only Kal knew about his problems.

"I... I've had enough... just had enough of fucking covid and being alone... i felt isolated before all this shit kicked off and now?" He vented releasing all the fears he had. It was tough, he was a family man without his own little family, he hadn't managed to find anyone to share his life with and it got to him. He tried being sincere and polite, he took care of himself and tried staying true to himself but... something was missing it had to be! On paper he was a safe bet a good man! Yet his relationships never worked. There were different opinions or his other half couldn't handle the life style or they tried changing him or they couldn't put up with the way he loved so furiously- so openly wanting to always hold and kiss them. It just never quite worked.

"Its- fuck everything has just caught up with me...worries I've had for a few years now I could ignore them you know? I had other stuff going on, was always out and about meetings and press tours I was busy! But now?" He tried putting his feeling into words but he was conscious, he didn't want to whine or bitch about his life. He loved his work and the life he had made for himself he just? Wanted someone to share it with.

"Now after covid you've got all the time in the world to think?" Henry nodded agreeing with his brother. Covid had made him face these fears head on. He has been alone for the best part of a year with the uncertainty of his work and filming quarantines and isolations.

"Yeah, it hurts I'm... I'm in deep and I? I don't know how I'm getting out of this slump" henry finally said outloud, his brother dipped his head listening to him as he ranted. Started letting out all the frustration and anxiety out but stopped short with another growl closeing his hand around the cup tightly hissing in frustration then looked away.

"And what's caused it? I know you hate being alone but?" Henry sighed shaking his head as his brother tried coaxing more out of him. He drew in a shaky breath wanting to cry, he was just so lost and upset over being upset and alone.

"Two lock downs... Two alone- I? If this carries on for the next few years I don't... I don't want to be alone anymore! I want to settle down, I want an actual personal life! A relationship a family and? How? How am I gonna find all that? They want fame or money or something! Women never seem to want me for me, they say the do then judge me for my hobbies- I'm a geek I like tech and games and fantasy! And women don't like that" he spewed the words like they were venom, half ashamed of being so dramatic but the fear was real. Henry was scared, he wanted love. He wanted a family of his own, and it seemed impossible, now more then ever.

"I want to meet someone who will take me as I am, for me and I just I'm giving up. I'm giving up on it I can feel it, almost forty and look, alone unmarried no kids-I have no one to share my life with, it hurts am I not good enough for that?" He hung his head as he spoke the final words put loud. He felt so vain and full of himself when he said them out loud, his skin crawled.

But it was how he felt, being the muscular decent looking man he was didn't go with his personality. He was a geek and the woman who were drawn to him didn't want that. And the woman that shared his hobbies normally weren't confident enough to even speak to him. Society's views on acceptable couples had put Henry in no mans land.

"What about online dating?" His brother spoke up but Henry just grunted rolling his eyes frustrated.

"What? No I cant do that I'd be fucking swamped" he hissed in irritation frustrated at the mere suggestion of him trying to date online.

"Whoa hold your horses let me finish I mean come on Hen there's bound to be hundreds of shy sweet women on there, I mean girls that are into your hobbies and stuff aren't usually the ones out and about partying and stuff, so its more likely they will be online" his brother quickly explained before Henry could pop off on one and shut him down.

Henry opened his mouth and stopped himself. That was a good point. Many of the women he would click with weren't going to be in bars or fancy parties. They were normally shy and at home most of the time reading or playing games.

"I... You really think i could meet someone? Meet the one online?" He asked in a small voice warming to the idea. His sibling smiled and nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes little brother, your a down to earth guy, just make a profile and have a look, if you don't like what you see you can delete the profile" henry nodded slowly thinking it over. There'd be no harm if he failed well he'd be no worse off, a little disheartened but that's about it.

"Look write down a few things you want in your dream girl, have a pseudo name like fucking I don't know Hank! Or something and say your a runner on set or something" his brother spoke up quickly as Henry sat back and actually thought about it seriously. He was right, henry could tweak things and be careful about what he shared and if he did meet the one then she'd understand... He could explain the predicament he was in. That he just wanted someone who liked him for him. And he would only reveal himself to her if she was the one and he was sure she would understand. As long as he was himself and honest about everything else in his life then there was no harm... and if he used proper photos of himself just... half cropped out then? It wasn't catfishing? Because he was being himself just using the nickname his mother used to call him.

"O-okay so be myself but... Just tweak a few things? So they don't know its me?" He reiterated to his brother still trying to figure out the morality of this whole idea.

"Yes! No full on pictures, no photos of Kal either new photos henry not old, maybe of your eyes up or something? Girls love blue eyed boy- not your right that brown will give you away... you could even fuck em up with a behind the scenes character photo? I mean come on how many men use a superman photo for their profile these days?" He encouraged wanting more then anything to cheer up his little brother.

"I yeah... That could work ,thank you- I'm sorry I got so worked up it... Its just getting to me now" henry apologised but his brother shook his head and chuckled standing up to go back outside to the others that were all happily chatting in the garden.

"I know Hen, look just give it a go, you might be surprized... come on lets get back out there, after all you are the host~ you cant just run off and hide" henry grinned standing and following his brother. It was decided, he'd give online dating a go!

A week later Henry sat at the computer everything was ready, he'd taken some precise photos and had spent the last half hour writing a profile up. He had felt a little guilty about this... Was he lying? Technically it was him, he was going by Hank which was a nickname his parents gave him as a child, luckily this site didn't require a surname because honestly? He had no clue! To fend off some guilt he had thrown in a behind the scenes photo of himself as superman it wasn't much but it helped take the edge off. The other photos were cropped and there were a good few just so that the women knew he wasn't technically a catfish; he even did one with him covering half of his face with a piece of paper with Hank scrawled across it. At the time he felt silly but it helped with his anxiety over the whole thing.

He paused for a second eyeing the screen rereading the profile over and over trying to make sure it was alright and honest. And it was, he had explained a little about himself, his hobbies and interests and his job... Only brushing over he worked for the film and tv industry recently working for Netflix he hadn't exactly explained what he did but there was enough information.

With a deep breath he clicked the button his mouse hovered over going live with the profile. Now all he had to do was wait and hope he caught a good womans eye. Within moments a few profiles popped up, matches. He scanned them flicking through some of the profiles and felt his heart crack. They were all full of badly filtered photos and used slang that to be honest he didn't even understand. What was so hard about using plain English?

He growled growing frustrated clicking through what were clearly a bunch of wannabe sugar babies. Each profile had a main photo a little bit of info then a few more pictures added to them. He scanned each one quickly going through the motions judging each one. 'Too far away... Your clearly not even eighteen?... Oh you like dc? Really hate to break it to you but thor is not a dc character' Henry grunted as he bypassed what felt like hundreds of women each with their own 'duck face' selfie most advertising their Instagram pages some even ballsy enough to add their only fans pages.

'Wait a second who was that?' He paused and scrolled back up and eyed the image on screen. It was a face on photo a cute woman smiling uncomfortably. Unlike everyone else's there was no distorting blur or heavy editing, the only make up was in the form of eyeliner in a set of black slightly uneven cat eyes. A slightly skewed black flicks making a point of no editing on the photo.

She was a full figured woman with proper kissable round cheeks and a sweet nervous grin. Her eyes were what got him, they were kind and genuine he could see she was uneasy about the photo but she was beautiful. She lived about half hour away which wasn't to bad.

Henry clicked the profile and scrolled down she didn't smoke, drunk occasionally and had no children. She did however have a college education in animal care and ran a small business. Centred on dogs by the looks of it. He moved further down reading the profile.

Y/n, 30, business owner, e/c, 5'4, curvy

I'm shy so will take a while to warm up to you. A honest woman, sometimes to honest I don't seem to have a filter 🤗 I'm laid back and tend to be sarcastic and I love animals I'm a kc certified dog breeder as well as run a small successful business that caters to dogs. So if you are allergic or don't like dogs then leave now but thank you for clicking🙃

I spend most of my free time gaming or reading. I enjoy the fantasy genre and love dc and marvel (though I love dc just a tad more🤫)

I have one fur baby in the form of my lovely girl Amii who is a three year old malamute. Yes malamute not a husky or Akita so again if you don't like dogs or big dogs I'm not the girl for you.

I'm looking for someone to have fun and maybe build a life with. Covid has been tough being single and decided that it was about time I tried this whole online dating thing. If you want to chat pop me a message 🥰

I do not have a personal Instagram, snapchat or only fans! Stop asking for pictures!😠😠

Henry's face split into a huge grin. She seemed to good to be true. She was wholesome, successful in her own right and looked fun. She didn't seem to be full of kale and bullshit. Just genuine and? Henry couldn't put his finger on it but there was something drawing him to this woman.

True to her word there was no Instagram link, no only fans or snap chat or anything. He scrolled further seeing photos of her and the biggest fluffiest dog he had ever seen in his life. She was sitting down next to who he assumed was Amii her dog and he melted. Y/n looked happy and content, living her best life.

There was nothing that sent alarm bells ringing, no racey photos or 'Netflix and chill' innuendos. The profile was clean and genuine. He was right the woman was a little chunky but extraordinarily beautiful. The curves suited her and made her look more... cheerful and he could tell she was strong aswell, you had to be to have a huge dog like that about you.

There were photos of her walking a large pack of dogs in the wood; that he recognised! They were the very same he took Kal to only ten minuets down the road, he even recognised the small logo of her company on the jacket she wore. He had seen dog walkers wearing the same jacket so he knew of her brand. I he remembered correctly the company offered dog walking, grooming and kennel facilities as well as offering Breeding services helping stud dogs and stuff. They also helped advertise registered breeders and took in rescues for rehoming. It was a brilliant little company that he had even used for Kal once or twice to get his teeth cleaned and nails clipped, because Kal was a bugger for his pedicures!

He moved further down seeing more photos of the woman a small section with the games and tv she liked. Witcher was in both the tv and games category aswell as peaky blinders, Vikings and a few other shows.

Henry paused as he saw the chat button. Should he? He but his lip twisting on the spot in he chair rocking from side to side. What harm is there? He could just send a message she looked like a fun loving woman, he shared the same interests and stuff... so why not?

His fingers hovered over the keys ready to type out the words. But he choked. His mind ran blank what does he say? Hi? I saw your profile? Does he ask for a date? What does he do?

He let his hands fall and growled. Then scanned over the side of the message bar seeing a few pre-typed responses.

'It's a match!' 'You look fun, lets chat' 'I like your profile picture'

He winced they all seemed... wrong? Somehow they were polite and all but it- they wasn't personal or anything just... not quite right. He looked down as Kal came padding over and slumped next to him resting his chin on his foot with a loud sigh. With that Henry had an idea typing away a little message and hitting send before he could really think.

You sighed typing away the latest wage slips and added up all the various overtime, you really needed some more staff on now that lockdown was coming to an end. Thankfully animal care was essential so you hadn't been hit too hard a few staff were on furlough as they were extreme high risk and shielding but you were going out of your way to make the premises covid safe. Luckily it wasn't too hard as much of the business was just a few staff and lots of dogs.

You frowned when a chat icon popped up in to corner of your screen. 'Hank?' You though trying to remember if you knew a Hank? Maybe a client or some old friend... but you honestly couldn't recall. You l saved your document and clicked the small icon bringing up a chat and frowned a you read the little message.

'I call my dog bear but he has nothing on Amii, Shes the fluffiest dog I've ever seen in my life she looks perfect for bear hugs😅'

'what the hell?' You cursed scrunching your nose up at the screen rereading the words. That's a bit random... you clicked his icon a small photo of half of his face then froze as a dating profile opened up. 'Oh... shit' you said seeing that your own profile you'd set up a few days ago out of curiosity had garnered the attention of the handsome blue eyed stranger. You swallowed biting you lip thoughts of finishing updating your records now gone as you scanned Hanks profile and a small smile crossed your face.

Hank, 37, works in the film industry. Blue eyes, 6ft, muscular.

Decided to finally try this online dating, unsure what to say other then I'm looking for a life partner. I like to think I'm funny and laid back. I'm fit and active but that doesn't mean you have to be, but maybe my lady could come for walks with me and my four legged son? I promise he's my best freind and a good boy.

My job is tough and I'm away for long periods of time, but when I'm home I like to play games and am into warcraft. I paint miniatures when I can. Fantasy and superheroes are a big part of my hobbies so if you don't like all things geek then I'm probably not for you.

But if they are? Then feel free to message me, I will reply when I can.

You read and re-read the profile And your hands hovered over your chicklet keyboard. Biting your lip, do you respond? He seemed sweet and real... if that made sense. You took a deep breath. What was the worst that could happen? Asking for a plane ticket? You decided to take a chance and typed back a reply hitting send whilst you had your nerve and then flushed.

"And they say fluffy dogs only lure in women~" You giggled to yourself moving a hand over the huge fluffy girl beside you giving her pets whislt thinking of a reply.

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #rpf #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill imagine

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doll-in-the-walls · 2 years

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Strangely Charming - Chapter 1

Summary: In the fall of 1984, Maeve and Calcifer move to Hawkins, Indiana into Forest Hills Trailer Park across from the one and only Eddie “the freak” Munson. (Takes place from Season 2 onward)

Maeve (Emerson) and Calcifer (named after the flame in Howl’s Moving Castle, yes) are my two OCs that first appear in my fic Charming Eternity for The Lost Boys (1987) both of whom have magic.

(If this goes the way I’ve got it planned in my head this’ll probably end in a Poly ship with Steddie and Billy in some way... with the OC of course.)

(There’s a lot of opening notes which honestly you could just skip as they’re not SUPER important but still worth mentioning.)

In that fic it’s Maeve as the main character and it was mostly her POV, but I wanted to have more of Calcifer in this one because I really like writing him.

I didn’t write this in a way where you need to know anything at all from Charming Eternity so it doesn’t matter if you’ve read that one.

The only things you need to know going into this is that this is a self-indulgent, fix-it. There will be spoilers for Seasons 2-4. We will be turning canon Billy into fanon Billy. Saving all those who need saving. Maeve is a witch and therefore has magic (which is a mashup of Charmed, Merlin, etc.). Black cat. A raven named Circe. That about covers it.

NOTE: Technically Charming Eternity takes place in 1987 and Strangely Charming takes place/starts in 1984 (and there are certain references relating to Charming Eternity even though those events didn’t happen yet.) Maeve and Calcifer are in their mid-twenties in that fic, but in this one they’re 18-19. This is basically an AU for my OCs and for the show since this is gonna be a fix-it thing.

Also, since this takes place in season 2, Maeve and Calcifer move into the house that Max would move into after season 3.

Warnings: None for this chapter

Words: 1328

Face claim for Maeve is Madison Iseman (photo included in this post) - she was Mary Ellen in Annabelle Comes Home and Bethany in the new Jumanji movies (the actress not IN the game obviously lol). Blonde and she has blue eyes but OC has grey. Calcifer’s face claim is Colin Morgan (Merlin in Merlin. But more specificaly Jethro from that one episode of Doctor Who.)

-Posting this at 4:30 am so I might have to go back and fix mistakes-

Maeve had just about finished bringing in the last of the boxes into the trailer home, closing the back of her Jeep with one arm holding the last box on her hip. Before she could turn towards the small porch, across the road a man stepped out of his trailer with a pack of cigarettes. She gave a small wave when he looked up from lighting one and noticed her. He gave a nod and a small wave in return as he sat on the steps.

After putting the box in one of the bedrooms, and petting the black cat that was laying on the bed, she stepped back outside of the trailer and made her way across the street.

“Hi,” she said, giving the man another wave. “I’m Maeve.” She held out her hand as she came to stand in front of him.

“Wayne,” the man said with a nod as he shook her hand.

“Just wanted to introduce myself. Normally I’d make my brother come out and say hi too, but he’s tired from the move and isn’t really a people person anyway; closed himself up in his room.” She gestured back towards her trailer.

“That’s alright.”

“I also just wanted to let you know we have a cat we let roam outside, in case you see a black cat wandering about. Brother named him ‘Cal’ after himself. He’s usually pretty chill; won’t scratch or anything.”

“Thank you for letting me know.” He gave her a small smile.

“Oh also Cal, my brother, not the cat,” Maeve said with a chuckle, “Cal is adopted so if you’re wondering why I sound like this and he sounds like he just moved from Ireland that’s why,” she explained with a chuckle. “Just never lost the accent; though it’s not as thick as it used to be.”

“It’s just the two of you?” he asked, glancing across the street, eyebrows furrowing in concern.

“Yeah, been just us for a while. I mean it’s not like we don’t have any other family just… ya know, none here,” she said with a shrug. “Hey, uh, do you know if any other high schoolers live around here? We start tomorrow and…” She shrugged again. “We’re gonna be seniors.”

“Actually my nephew is a senior. He’s not here right now, but uh, you hear a van blasting music that’s him,” he said with a fond chuckle.

“Oh, awesome. Hey, think you could maybe ask if the weird new kids can sit with him at lunch tomorrow? I mean I know I probably look normal now,” she said as she gestured to herself. Her pale blonde hair was up on a messy bun, no makeup, a black jacket over a worn Black Sabbath t-shirt and faded blue jeans with holes in the knees, over a beat up pair of off-white vans. “but this is my at home look. I’m much different when I know people can see me.”

“I’ll ask,” he said with another small chuckle. “He likes them too,” he said as he pointed to her shirt. “So you’ll have that in common.” His smile grew but Maeve didn’t question it.

“Oh awesome. You can tell him he can come over and say hi when he gets home.”

“Not sure when he’ll be back, stays out late when his band has a show. I work nights; he always comes home before I get back, just don’t know when.”

“Oh damn, if I didn’t have to unpack I’d go check them out. I’ll have to ask when he’s playing again.” Wayne smiled. “Well, it was very nice meeting you. Got a lot of boxes to deal with so I’ll stop bothering you now.”

“Not a bother,” he said, shaking his head. “Was nice meeting you.”

“Sounds like band-boy is home,” Calcifer called from his room upon hearing music coming from outside, growing closer.

“And?” Maeve called back from where she sat at a table in the kitchenette. “It’s late, we can say hi tomorrow,”

“Never said I wanted to go talk to him,” he clarified. A meow brought Maeve’s attention to the door where Cal sat, pawing at it.

“Really? It’s late Cal,” she said. The cat meowed again. “Alright, fine.” She got up and moved to the door. “Don’t stay out too late, kay? And don’t be a weirdo.” If ever a meow could sound offended it was then. She opened the door and he took off.

The black cat sprinted across the street as the van parked, the music inside cutting off as the engine stopped. The door opened with a loud creak and the driver hopped out only to look down as Cal meowed up at him.

“Hey… lil guy,” Eddie said, blinking down at the cat. “Where’d you come from?” He closed the door to the van with a jarring slam then moved around to the back to retrieve his guitar case before heading for the door of the trailer. “Careful, neighbor has a dog,” he said with a chuckle, glancing back at the cat which he was surprised to see was following him up the steps. He stopped and looked down as Cal sat and looked up at him, gently pawing at his shoe. “You uh… hungry or something?” he asked slowly before he looked around.

The unfamiliar car across the way caught his attention and drew his gaze to the window where he saw a light was on inside. He knew the place had been for sale the past few months, but he hadn’t cared enough to pay attention as to whether or not it had been bought.

“Ah, guess you just moved in,” Eddie said as he looked down at the cat, that continued to look up at him. “Well then, welcome to the neighborhood, little buddy. I’d pet you but I can't risk you eating my hand.” He drummed the fingers of his left hand on his guitar case. The black cat rubbed against his leg and started purring. “Is that your way of telling me you won’t eat me?” Eddie chuckled to himself as he put the key in the lock. “Alright fine, but your owners come looking for you, you’re not the one who’s gonna get in trouble for cat-napping.”

He opened the door, jumping slightly as the cat ran in before he could even take a step. With the guitar case in the way, and the fact that the door opened outward, Eddie almost tripped a few times as he hurried to get inside after the animal. He set his guitar case down with a sigh as he saw the cat standing in the middle of the living area and simply sniffing at the floor.

“Shit, please don’t eat anything you find on the floor,” Eddie muttered, suddenly aware that he may end up having to take this cat to the vet if it got into the wrong thing. The cat stopped and turned to him, making him raise an eyebrow, before it suddenly sped down the hall and into his room. “Hey, whoa, wait wait wait-! Please tell me you’re a cat that doesn’t like to knock shit over,” he pleaded as he ran after him.

Thankfully Cal wasn’t knocking anything over. Instead, the cat was stretching up the panel next to Eddie’s closet, with one paw on the wall and the other pawing at a long chain that hung there along with two sets of handcuffs the cat couldn’t reach. The cat looked from the cuffs to him and Eddie had never felt as judged by an animal as he did in that moment.

“You… are a very weird kitty,” he muttered as he took off his vest and jacket. Cal sniffed around as Eddie moved to turn on his cassette player, doing his best to keep an eye on the cat. As Metallica started to play, the cat jumped up onto his bed and curled up. “Uh, alright, sure.”

A/N: I’m giving myself the self-set goal of trying to make each chapter at least 1k words since I’m posting this on both AO3 and tumblr and I tend to like shorter chapters on tumblr.

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(Next Chapter)

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Hey if you wanna be added to the tag list for this fic (or removed, don’t feel bad about asking to be removed from the list for any reason.) please just reply on any chapter (or send me an ask) and I’ll tag you in the next one. ^_^

#Strangely Charming fic #Stranger Things Fanfiction #Eddie Munson x Original Female Character #Eddie Munson

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jatphatones · 4 years

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Happy Daze | One Shot (Charlie Gillespie x Reader)

A/N: This was a completely self-indulgent idea lol. Basically, I manifested what it would be like to get drunk with the cast during filming because that's honestly one of the things that I really want to do with them. It would be such a fun time with a dash of chaos and shenanigans. In light of the amazing tb photos that the cast has been posting today, I’ve decided to post this a little bit earlier than what I planned. I hope y'all enjoy!

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: drinking, swearing, typos

Masterlist

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“I think your boyfriend is drunk…” Savannah says as we observe the boys at the bar. Charlie was energetic as usual albeit a little sloppy, leaning against the bar more than he should. “Y’all are drinking about the same amount and yet you’re fine. How?” Savannah asks as we return our attention to each other and sip our drinks. “Easy. He didn’t go to university like I did,” I answer simply, placing my empty glass on the table. “Oh my god, love that,” Savannah exclaims.

Both Carolynn and Savannah chuckle as the boys try not to spill all our drinks when they start heading our way. Jeremy’s fiancée had come in for a visit this weekend, and those who could welcome her decided to celebrate with a night of bar hopping. The disaster trio, Carolynn, Savannah, and I headed out in the evening, ready to relax after a long week of work. As we finished up filming this week, the actors were able to take a weekend off. I was able to take a break as well from my job as assistant stylist. My job of helping the costume designers fix up any outfits was exciting, but taxing. I always have fun with my team and the cast, but it’s nice to have a night off to just chill outside of the set. “Alright, I got a sex on the beach for Savannah, shirley for the wifey, and a vodka lemonade for Y/N,” Jeremy announces while passing out the drinks. We each thank him before the guys take a seat and drink their beers. Charlie sits next to me and throws an arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his warm body. “Having fun?” he whispers into my ear, beer coming off his breath. “Mhm. Me and the girls were just chit chatting. We’ve decided that we like this bar better than the last one. Less stuffy and loud,” Charlie nods in agreement while subconsciously tapping his fingers across my shoulder. “Have I told you that you look pretty tonight?” His words were slightly slurred, which drew out a chuckle from me. It was amusing to see his slow but inevitable descent into drunken stupidity. “Yes, but it’s nice to hear again. You don’t look too bad yourself babe,” I shoot back with honesty. He looked especially nice this evening. He obviously has no problems showing off his arms, but the slightly messy hair and tucked in t-shirt just looked especially sexy tonight. Must be the alcohol talking. As the night wore on, all of us drank more and got goofier. The Canada native was already constantly drunk on life, so his behavior now was honestly nothing anything new. He was still doing entertaining yet stupid shit…like trying to lift Jeremy onto his shoulders. “Babe, put him down right now!” I command, horrified at the sight of my stupid boyfriend crouching while Jeremy slowly lifts a leg on to his friend’s shoulder. “Aw c’mon, he said I couldn’t lift him up again and I know I can,” Charlie explains while he started to grip Jeremy’s thighs. Owen was too busy watching with an amused expression. Stopping them was not even a thought in his inebriated brain. “Babe, why would you challenge him?” Carolynn scolds her fiancé. The girls and I knew Jeremy was fucking with Charlie, but at the expense of his own safety. Boys - never thinking of the consequences. “Nope, c’mon let go of him,” I order. Charlie pouts in retaliation, hoping that his puppy-dog eyes would persuade me to allow this dangerous activity. “Nope, not gonna work. C’mon.” I never get tired of going out with Charlie and our friends. Sure, he might (100% will) do stupid things, but it was more entertaining than annoying. He never fails to make me smile or take me on ridiculous adventures. But at some point - like attempting to pick up Jeremy - the night must come to an end. “I think it’s time to go home.” I mutter as I help Charlie up from the ground and wrap my arm around his waist. He quickly wraps his arm around my shoulder, slightly placing some of his weight onto me. He was definitely drunk, and from the way he slowly blinked through the sudden movement, I could tell he was going to crash soon. “I think we should go to the next bar,” Owen suggested. The rest of the group agreed and started to get ready to leave. “We’re gonna head out now. Probably just crash at your place since it’s the shortest walking distance. Is that okay, Owen?” I ask the tall blonde. His styled hair had become a little messed up from tonight’s activities, but he looked like he was having a great time. He nods his head immediately while finishing up his drink. “Girl, are you sure you’re okay to walk? You drank a few too,” Savannah says with some concern in her voice. She was always making sure everyone was okay and comfortable and tonight was no different. Still holding Charlie, I grab our jackets with one hand while he’s wrapped in conversation with the engaged couple.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m not nearly as drunk or messy as this stumbling idiot. I’ll be fine,” I say confidently. Charlie continued to joke around with Carolynn and Jeremy, squeezing my shoulder sometimes as he gestured with excitement from telling a story.

“Okay, you got keys? I can give you mine if you let me in later,” Owen offered. We all stepped out into the cool night, shivering at the temperature change. We could tell the night was just getting started for others as we noticed more people walking about.

“Nah, I got keys. I made Charlie give his to me to hold because I had a feeling he might lose them tonight,” Savannah and Owen chuckle, laughing at the accuracy of my statement. Charlie paid no mind to my dig at him as he let out a barking laugh from whatever Jeremy said.

“Smart,” Savannah compliments. She zips up her jacket and fixes her hair. I swear that girl never looks off, always on point. Come to think of it, Carolynn too. I could only wish I still looked put together, but sporting a slightly uncoordinated guy like Charlie didn’t help. I squeeze Charlie’s waist to get his attention. He immediately looks down at me with a smile, making my heart skip a beat. How he still manages to do that is a mystery to me. I offer him a warm smile and speak up.

“You okay with going home now?” I ask softly. He takes a deep breath and huffs. He unwraps himself from me and I help him put his jacket on.

“Yeah. Are we just going to walk back to my place?” he asks, turning to look back at me. I nod my head.

“You got my keys?” I nod again.

“Cool,” he jerks his head back to the group. “Okay, we’ll see you guys tomorrow. Stay safe!” Charlie exclaims as we start to separate from the group, arms wrapped around each other again.

“Will do! Make sure Charlie doesn’t pass out on the floor Y/N!” Jeremy responds, making all of us laugh and Charlie let out a protest.

“I’m not that drunk!” Charlie says before almost missing a step as we walked backwards. I strengthen my grip on him to prevent him and therefore us from falling. We all laugh as he starts to mutter curses; his cheeks flame up in slight embarrassment. I just had to squish his cheeks with my one available hand.

“I’ll take care of him. You guys have fun! Good night!” I announce to our group of friends.Once we say our goodbyes, we turn around and head back to the apartment complex.

Our arms were still wrapped around one another, keeping each other warm as the cold weather starts to creep in. I let go of his waist with a chuckle as he almost trips over my feet for the third time from leaning on me. Putting some space between us, I grab onto his hand still wanting to touch him. He grips mine immediately and starts swinging our hands back and forth. His drunken antics caused a grin to grow on my face. I look forward and walk us back to his place, not trusting him to lead us back home.

“I love how your cheeks get red when you drink. It’s so cute.” I quickly glance at Charlie who was already staring at me. He had a drunken smirk on his face as he shamelessly complimented me.

“Thank you,” I give his hand a squeeze, “I love how goofy you get when you drink. It’s so cute.” My heart warms up as he scrunches his nose at my comment.

“How are you okay right now?” He exclaims as we walk into the lobby of the complex. His eyes squint at the sudden bright lights, eyes trying to adjust in his drunken state.

“It’s called pacing, my love. You should try it sometime.” He scoffs at me as I drag him to the elevator.

I subconsciously drag my thumb back and forth on his skin as we wait. When the elevator comes, he immediately stumbles into it, leaning back against a wall and looking up at the ceiling. Letting out a breath, he brings his gaze down to me as I mimic his stance against the opposite wall.

“Remember when I wanted to wear my orange beanie for filming?” He asks randomly. He smirks when I groan.

“Uh-huh. You argued with us nonstop until you got your way. Not unlike how you asked me out.” I retort with an amused tone. I grab his hand again and dragged him out of the elevator. He drags his feet behind me as we reach his door before wrapping his arms around me.

“Look, all I wanted was to ask the pretty assistant out. When you first said no, I was crushed, but I wasn’t surprised. You were way too pretty and smart for me.” I blush, not knowing what to do with this information. He had never told me this before and I feel like he wouldn’t have admitted this if he was sober right now. He gives me a kiss on the cheek as I open the door.

“Got that right. But I said yes when you asked the second time. Just couldn’t resist that smile,” I admit as well, pulling away from his grasp and placing our things down. His lopsided smile returns before he reaches for me again. He turns me around quickly and places his hand on my waist while I stumble from the movement. My head spins just a little and I close my eyes briefly as I slowly reorient myself.

“Okay, maybe you’re a little drunker than you thought,” he says with amusement once I open my eyes. When I look up, his eyes are shining down, soft gaze between my own eyes. Bring up my hands, I softly cusp his face. Immediately, he rests his head on my hands with an adorable pout

.“C’mon bubs. Let’s get ready for bed,” I whisper. He nods his head in my palms before reaching up to grab them.

His hands completely envelop my own and I lead him backwards into his room. We don’t even bother to turn on his lights when we make it past the doorway. Our drunken vision adjusts to the pitch black room and I wish I had the energy to yell at him for not cleaning his room earlier and therefore making it difficulty for me to navigate in our current state. I guide him to his unmade bed and he flops down on it with a huge sigh. His big groan that followed makes me almost join him, but I walk to his closet instead, grabbing pajamas for the both of us.

“I don’t think anything is better than laying in my bed after a night out,” Charlie murmurs. I could barely hear him from his head buried into his pillow.

“Yeah, okay,” I answer sarcastically when I return to the bed.

He opens his eyes to see the silhouette of me with my arms crossed, one hand gripping our clothes. I roll my eyes when he doesn’t get up. The bed has officially trapped him for the night.

“Alright lazy bum, flip over,” I command him. Once he listens to me, I straddle his legs. Charlie places his hands on my thighs almost involuntary and protests when I throw his hands up in the air. When I slowly start to lift his shirt up, he gets the idea and keeps his hands over his head to help me remove it.

“Come to think of it, sex is better than crashing after a night out,” Charlie peers with one eye at my straddled figure, slowly sending another drunken smile my way. I knew he was half kidding and half serious about his implied offer. Although he was right and the offer was tempting, I knew that both of us were just damn too tired to do anything other than change into pajamas.

“Not happening.” He pouts just like he did earlier as I unbutton his jeans. I start to pull off his jeans but almost get thrown off when he clumsily tries to help shimmy themselves and wiggles a little too vigorously.

“Charlie!”

“What! I’m trying to help!” Charlie joins me in laughing at his clumsiness, and we continue to laugh as we realize that I didn’t take off his shoes beforehand. I throw them off easily along with his socks and jeans.

Grabbing the random pair of shorts I got, I help him put it on, almost yelling at him again when he literally thrusts his crotch into my face. Charlie finally settles down, all comfortably dressed thanks to me. With a huff from all the effort I put in, I strip of my own clothes, almost falling over in the process.

“Admit it. I’m your favorite cast member to work with,” Charlie says from his relaxed position., smirk painted on his annoying face. His hands were resting behind his head as he watched me change into one of his shirts, enjoying the whole show. I scoff at his comment.

“Hell no! You’re always distracting me. And dressing up Dirty Candy is way more fun than your cut off tees and black jeans. Sorry not sorry,” I say sassily. I almost moan when I unclasp my bra and throw it off. I think back to his first offhand comment about laying in bed and wanted to correct him - nothing beats taking off your bra.

“But they’re not giving you thank you kisses like I do,” Charlie removes one hand from behind his head and wraps it around my shoulders when I land next to him. He ignores my noise of surprise when he turns my body into his own bare torso. My legs are trapped under his, but I’m not complaining too much about this entangled position.

“You don’t know that,” I tease. Charlie gives me a playful angry growl and pinches my shoulder. I retaliate by hitting him on the chest.

We settle down and start drawing random shapes on whatever skin we can reach. We do this for a couple more moments and I try not to laugh at how heavy his breathing was.

“I’m super drunk right now,” he grumbles. I look up and could see his eyes are shut and his eyebrows drawn in. Poor guy was probably trying to refocus his thoughts.

“Yeah, you are. But you deserved to have fun tonight. You all have been working so hard and it’s always a great time when Care’s around.” I whisper, letting the nighttime finally settle into our bones.

“You’re right. Doesn’t make me any less drunk though.” I let out a breathless laugh at his logic and then snuggle into his chest. I could feel my eyelids start to get heavy and his breathing starting to slow down.

“I love you,” I say softly, “even though you’re such a messy drunk.”

“Love you too baby,” he whispers back before falling asleep.

I rest my head on his chest and follow his lead. As I start to fall asleep I realize that Charlie was right when he said that laying in bed was a great feeling after a night out because the best part of it all is falling asleep in the arms of the one I love. But when he abruptly wakes me up at 7 am to climb out of bed and throw his head over the toilet the next morning, I may have blamed my late night thoughts on our drunken haze.

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A/N: So I wholeheartedly believe that the little maple man would always be up to something, especially if everyone’s under the influence lol. Anyways, I've never really written real person fics and it was okay I guess? Might not do so many in the future but who freakin knows. If you are ever in a situation where you’re drinking, please be responsible (especially don’t offer to carry people on your shoulders). Also, I got a taglist of you’re interested - just lmk! If you ever wanna hang out, hit me up! - Titi xx

Taglist: @aunicornmademedoit @phantoms-julie @pixiethefirecat7 @lolychu @badwolf00593 @kinda-really-lost

#jatp #charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie fanfic #charlie gillespie fanfiction #charlie gillespie imagines #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie x oc #charlie gillespie x y/n

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written-beyond-the-grave · 3 years

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Mikaelsons Black History Month

First off, I’m starting by saying that even though it is no longer Black history month it will always be melanin everyday and black people every day. And everything else under the sun, and if you don’t like it then the exit is to your left. Everything you own in the box to the left

Being part of the Mikaelsons is very fickle business and be some bs. Like really, you’re here with supernatural beings who are over 1000 years old. Who have traveled the world, gained endless knowledge, seen a lot of bloodshed, but you know what they haven’t seen? Their token human (black ofc) being ignant for black history month, I mean who even fully celebrates? How does one even celebrate?

Granted, they’re not racist. But with the writing Julie Pleck did she was playing honestly. That was the worst writing I've ever seen since who knows when. Maybe the nine lives of Chloe king or something? But in my originals universe they were probably racist in the beginning to an extent then grew out of it.

Anyways, they never met someone who celebrated until they met you!

Now repeat after me: I’m black y’all, and I’m black y’all. And I’m black and black and black y’all! FYM

Now…. picture this: A moderately quiet day in the Mikaelson household. Kol is minding his business for once, Rebekah is trying to find the perfect pics for her next instagram post, Elijah is enjoying a good read, and Klaus is organizing his art materials. But then here comes you, the human, opening the door and walking right in like you pay bills (none of them do but you get the picture) in the midst of the most deadly people. Walking in and greeting everyone, walking in with the most hotep, Dr. Umar bullshit getup they ever seen. Coming to America headass.

They recognize your footsteps from a mile away, so when you walk into the kitchen and no one really looks up at first it’ll be a sight to see a whole ass pelted lion on your back. The kente cloth hat (no idea the actual name for it, sorry babes), a saber tooth necklace (for my mans T’Challa), and the red stiletto nails with the afro out here banging.

SHEEEEEEEEESH

Once Elijah is done with his page he looks up to greet you, but then stops… Bitch, fuck is you wearing? This was worlds away from the sweats, and skinny jeans you wore on the daily.

“Greetings Y/N you look…. Fashionable.” Mans didn’t know what to say. Did he miss something about your Africna roots? Was there a holiday he hadn’t heard of, doubt it, but what else was there?

“Thank you Elijah.” You fluff out your lion pelt for added effect, if there was ever going to be one time you outdo the Mikaelsons’ especially Elijah in being dramatic with a coat or cloak of somesort, it would be now.

At this point the Kol and Rebekah have already looked up and were confused. Why are you dressed like that?

Kol is the first one to speak up “Darling, Rebekah likes a fashion show more than anyone, but why do you have a lion… on your shoulder.”

Lifting up your large ass shades you supplied an answer: “Black History Month”

They all looked at each other… they didn’t get it. Like they know what it is, but never actually understood how to celebrate and all that nor did they ever actually give it mind. When you saw that they weren’t making a connection, you started phase 1.

“Alexa, you know what to do.”

And there goes their manor playing: NIGGA NIGGA NIGGA NIGGA NIGGA NIGGA NIGGA I’M ONE HUNDRED PERCENT NIGGA

LMFAOOOOO you got the white people shook. Klaus just dropped one of his expensive ass bottles of art sealants and is vamp speeding to the kitchen to figure out what the hell is going on. Elijah having a mid century crisis on how tf they even found you and deemed you worthy of being in their presence so casually. Kol is having fun in the back, still laughing at your get up. And Rebekah wishes she went to the mall instead, she wanted a girl bestie and got you instead rip

“WHAT IN BLAZES- Y/N WHAT ARE YOU DO- WHAT ARE YOU WEARING! ALEXA STOP THE MUSIC-” And the big bad wolf has arrived. You put your finger to Klaus’ lips which stuns him bc… you’re still HOOOMAN like damn, death wish much? And you look this man, straight in his mit and say “Looks at, look at me” and pause for dramatic affect, “I am the captain now”

Room silent as hell till Kol starts cackling

You’ve made Dr. Umar proud, the ancestors are shining on you once again

With that you lead into a whole speech about the black struggle and black history month, bottom line: REPARATIONS. Because being the only nigga in the Mikaelsons (we don’t claim Marcel) is exhausting, white people shit everyday that you complain about in their faces

TBH at this point they’re indulging you in this escapade.

First victim is Elijah, you ask for his wallet. He gives you a look, I mean he does technically give you what you want and whatever (when y’all dating, refer back to my dating Elijah post), so he ask you why. Reparations sis why, but then you stop yourself. This man gives you his wallet every other day, half the time you not even asking. What could you rob this man of…. Ah. You ask him for the deed of one of his estates in Prague, why? Because you bitches can’t even spell Prague. And under section S line 45 subsection Y it does state that estates are eligible for reparations. Fuck 40 acres and a mule, you got 300 acres, some stallions in the back, a quite possibly haunted mansion, and a heavy dicked (yeah I said it, a sis been trying to reality shift) original who will turn you out by the end of the day and the end of the month…. Wait till women's history month boo

We know his pockets figgity fat, and it would be figgity wack to not get some

Ngl you take Kol with you so he can buy you food. Granted, he knows what you’re doing, but if he’s going to spend money on anything it will be thawed and it will be music. However, one thing leads to another and you’re both at Wal-Mart waiting to find a parking spot. You stole one off a white minivan trying to move in. Not thinking anything of it because who in this small ass Mystic Falls ass, clown ass town really about it? Apparently Karen.

But you know who else what about it? Kol (tbh mans had nothing but time, and he claims you so why tf not.) he out here NY stomping on her and coming at her for badly glued extensions. Cheap ass bitch, ain’t even blend in correctly.

After that Kol and you left with some groceries, a new story to tell, and a chopped cheese.

With Klaus, he frfr wasn’t finna do shit. Being ordered my a human? Lmfao, go find another simp sis. But… once you suggest that his art skills may not be up to par on what you have in mind as a new family room piece for your house he’s all ears. He knows what you’re doing, but… he still wants to prove you wrong. But anyways, you give him a theme… reverse racism. IK y’all, it’s not a thing, but mans has ideas. And he outdoes himself. That and the recreation of the moorish chief bc that man...mmmmm that man was giving.

Ok so Google wanna hoe me, but there was a painting of a black man in a kkk cloak and behind him were white people being hung from a tree. Say what you want, but that photo was fire. If any of you seen it please share it below.

Anyways

Rebekah tbh wants no part in this, but I feel like she’d gave when you ask her to give you all the finest dresses bc it’s an excuse to exhaust Klaus’ money.

Through the month you give the Mikaelsons a run for their money, and maybe sanity. Klaus is in the back trying to research who tf Dr. Umar is and why is he your inspiration

They had to pull you back when the sheriff asked you for your ID. You ask why you needed white man paperwork!

You are pleasing the spirits, what bonnie could never do lmfaooooo. The powers of you enemies aren’t prospering this month nor next month.

You’re not poor this month, anything you poor of is pouring a little more (bars nigga)

LMFAOOOO imaging asking the fam to go to paris, like, they not invited it’s a self trip funded my the Mikaelson Y/N Trust Fund of Public Decency ™

Klaus would be the first one to speak because this man is TIRED, “Love, why do you need a trip to paris? What’s in Paris?”

Knowing better, you look to Kol to answer the question, “I don’t know, Kol, who’s in Paris?” Niggas b. Niggas in paris…. Lemme chill

LMFAOOO enjoy

#klaus mikealson x reader #klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd x reader #the originals #black reader #black!reader #poc!reader #poc reader #niggasbelike

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real-work-of-art · 4 years

Text

Golden

A self indulgent story ft. a very soft boyfriend!h

A/N: Wow, I feel like I am going to throw up. I wrote this a couple weeks ago, with honestly no real intention to post it. But with all these golden music video rumors, now just felt like the perfect time. So here it is! This never would have happened without the kindness and encouragement from @for-fucks-sake-h, @andwhenshesays, @idk-who-she-is, and @smokeinherperfume. And a very special thank you to @oh-honey-styles who read through every small piece of progress and encouraged me practically every single day for the past two weeks. I love you all! Anyway, here is my first ever official piece of writing. I hope you enjoy it!

Word count: 1.7k

She is beautiful. The way she is curled up on the couch, legs pulled up to her chest, hands pressed between her face and the pillow. Harry sits across the room watching as her eyelashes lightly press against her cheeks and her shoulders move slowly with each inhale. The sunlight is casting a slight golden hue around the room. She was almost too bright for him.

He sits there in complete awe—watching her rest so peacefully. He wonders what she might be dreaming of. Because ever since they met, he only dreams of her.

Quickly, he stands up from his chair, and walks out of the room, careful not to make too much noise. Entering his bedroom, he walks straight towards the built in bookshelves to the right and grabs his camera off the shelf, quickly checking to make sure it’s charged.

Harry slowly tiptoes back into the living room, stopping behind the couch to make sure she is still asleep. As he peers down at her, he desperately wants to reach down and move the stray piece of hair that has fallen across her face, but he resists out of fear of ruining the moment. Instead he holds his camera up to his face, adjusting the settings and snapping his first picture. She stirs slightly at the sound of the camera's shutter but remains asleep.

Harry walks around the couch, back to the chair across from her. He snaps a couple more photos, changing the angles and adjusting his focus, trying to catch the way the soft light of the setting sun drapes over her face.

After taking at least a dozen photos he starts to look through them, surprised that his amature photography skills were actually able to capture the beautiful image in front of him.

As he flicks through each photo on his camera he hears a soft shuffling coming from the direction of the couch. Looking up he sees her eyes still closed, arms and legs stretching along the couch. He quickly tucks the camera into the drawer of the side table next to his chair.

As she opens her eyes she sees Harry looking right back at her with a gentle smile on his face.

“Hello beautiful,” Harry softly speaks.

She smiles softly back in his direction, closing her eyes again.

“Hi,” she mumbles.

Again, she opens her eyes slowly, immediately catching his gaze. She stretches her arms out in a silent invitation for him to come join her in the small sliver of space on the couch. She’s desperate to feel the comfort of his warm body against hers. Harry slowly stands and takes the few steps over to the couch. Grabbing her hand, he gently pulls her up so he can better fit himself against her. With her head now resting on top of Harry's arm and her right knee slotted between his, she looks up at his face. Her eyes first gaze over his chin, admiring the slightly grown out facial hair. Slowly scanning upwards taking in the soft rosey color of his lips, noticing the slight sunburn on his nose from being out on the boat earlier, and finally catching his green eyes.

“Wish I could take a picture of you,” she whispers.

A quick zip of panic rushes up Harry’s spine, making his back stiffen up slightly. Does she know? Searching her face for any sign that she’s hinting at something, he realizes all he sees is genuine admiration. He relaxes into her, leaning down to press his lips softly against hers. It’s a gentle kiss filled with so many unsaid declarations of happiness and love.

Pulling away she looks back up, meeting his eyes that are already staring into hers. “I’m hungry,” she mumbles.

Throwing his head back, Harry lets out a loud laugh, always finding her honesty and poor timing incredibly endearing.

“Well let's get you something to eat then,” he says bringing his eyes back to hers, a huge smile spread across his face.

9 months later

Harry was putting the finishing touches on his dinner spread. Tonight they were celebrating their one year anniversary. Well, one year of knowing each other at least. But since Harry travels so much, he tries to take advantage of any celebration he can with her.

They opted for a relaxing dinner at home, where they could be comfortable and focused on only each other. Harry put himself in charge of preparing the whole evening. So after lunch he surprised her with an afternoon at the spa, having to push her out the door just a little bit.

While she was out, Harry got busy trying to make their night special. Cooking a simple but delicious pasta dish, hanging up some gold and silver decorations he found in the garage, and formally setting the dining table with their favorite red wine. On their trip to Italy last month they became obsessed with this wine, which resulted in her trying to fit as many bottles as she could into her luggage.

Pouring the wine into their glasses, Harry hears the faint sound of the front door opening and closing. Looking at the clock on the oven, he smiles to himself. “Right on time,” he mumbles under his breath while walking to the door with an excited hop in his step.

“Hello love,” he greets her, wrapping her up in his arms and placing a kiss to her forehead. “How was the spa?”

“Mmm, could have stayed there all day,” she says into his chest. Slowly moving her head so her chin is resting against his cross necklace, her eyes meeting his. “Thank you,” she says, reaching up to place a quick kiss to his lips.

Smiling down at her, he unwraps his arms, grabbing her hand to lead her into the dinning room. Her eyes dance around every detail in the room. From the beautifully set table to the shimmery decorations, her eyes can’t seem to focus on one thing.

“Wow Harry. It’s beautiful,” she beams while leaning into his side.

“Come on, let’s celebrate,” Harry says, taking her hand and leading her to the table. Grabbing their wine glasses, he hands one to her.

Raising his glass to hers. “To one year,” he says, smiling and tapping their glasses together.

After finishing dinner they continue to sit around the table, drinking wine while laughing and sharing their favorite memories over the last year. She was currently laughing at Harry’s dramatic retelling of the time she forgot she had invited him over for dinner and a movie, before they had officially started dating. She answered the door in a bubbling face mask and eyes as wide as the pepperonis on the mostly eaten pizza in her living room.

As her laughs start to die down, Harry looks at her with a smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. She eventually makes eye contact with him again and they just look at each other, smiling like idiots and absorbing the other’s happiness.

“I have a gift for you,” Harry says breaking the silence.

“What?! Another one?!”

Harry simply nods while releasing a quiet “Mhm,” and slowly standing up.

“Okay now I’m starting to feel bad. The only gift I had planned for you was a pretty amazing blow job followed by some equally amazing sex.”

Harry looks back at her with raised eyebrows and amusement dancing in his eyes. “Now those are two gifts I am very excited for.” He leans down to place a kiss to her lips before walking out of the dining room.

Sitting up straight, she places her wine glass on the table and straightens her top. Popping his head in from around the corner, he flashes his bright smile at her. “Close your eyes,” he instructs.

With a silly smile, she closes her eyes. She hears Harry walk back into the room and around her chair. She could feel him standing across from her. She raises one eyebrow, hoping he is watching her, to tell him she is getting a little impatient.

Harry speaks in a silky smooth voice, “Ok… open your eyes.”

She opens them slowly, first focusing on his face before looking down at the two picture frames held in his hands. She takes in a small gasp at the warm golden images of her. Instantly her mind transports her back to that afternoon. She had accidentally fallen asleep on the couch while Harry brought in the bags and towels they had brought for their day on the boat. She remembers how gorgeous he looked when she woke up from her nap. How the sun was shining into the room, casting a bronze hue around them, and the white curtains blowing with the wind.

She stands up from her chair, taking a step closer to him, and slowly running her finger tips along the frames.

“Harry... these are beautiful.” She could feel her cheeks starting to heat up and the prickle in the back of her eyes becoming stronger. She rarely ever cries, and is fighting back the feeling to do so right now. This is how Harry sees her, glowing and radiant. She looks up into his eyes, but before she could speak Harry interjects. “I just wanted a reminder of how beautiful you are. Then I realized how incredible these would look in the living room, and how much they make me smile. I wanted to share that with you.”

Placing her hand at the back of his neck, she reaches up to kiss him. Holding him against her lips, trying to transfer all of her feelings into that kiss. She pulls back and looks up into his emerald eyes. “Thank you,” she whispers, lips gently brushing over his.

Grabbing the frames out of his hand, she gently leans them against the wall. Taking his hand in hers, she begins to lead him out of the room. “We can hang those up tomorrow. Right now I have some gifts I need to give you.”

Thank you so much for reading! 💕

Can We Fall?

The Night Before

Shut Up And Kiss Me

#i will be throwing my phone and computer into the ocean now #it was nice knowing all of you

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