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rek1s-headband · 4 years ago

Note

if it's okay with you, could I request headcanons for reki and langa with a shy s/o?

A/N: Thanks for the request! Hope you enjoy:)

With a shy s/o

Characters: Reki Kyan, Langa Hasegawa x gn! reader

Warnings: none!

Reki

Absolutely loves it

It’s a real comfort to him. Being the upbeat, talkative person that he is, he appreciates having someone there to just listen to him, to just take everything in instead of questioning him on it

Would be like your bodyguard in public. If he feels you’re getting uncomfortable while you’re both around a lot of new people, he’ll either offer to take you around and introduce you to them so you feel better, or take you outside for a breather

Always asking if you’re comfortable going places when he knows a lot of people will be there

Sometimes he can be a bit blind to stressful situations. Being the extrovert he is, he’s a lot more comfortable being around new people, talking and making passing comments with ease. But one tug of his arm or a quiet glance his way and he’s springing into action, holding you close and asking what he can do to make you feel better

Eases you into things. He’s always going to make sure you gradually get used to new places, and will never leave your side

The pair of you met at S. he was racing in a beef against your friend, and you were there to support him. The two of them were on good terms of course, it was just a friendly race

He saw you chatting to him after the race, and he was honestly blown away by how gorgeous you were. He found himself staring, admiring your quiet smile, talking in a hushed voice. He wondered why you weren’t talking louder, it wasn’t exactly a library out here after all.

Langa flicked his temple after a minute or two, saying “if you’re gonna keep ogling them like a creep, you might as well go say hi.” He could feel himself glowing with embarrassment, but before he knew it he was shaking off his nerves and walking right over to you

He called out to your friend, giving him a high five as he began to talk about the race. You stayed relatively quiet, glancing at your phone occasionally and looking around. This threw Reki for a loop, surely you had something to say about the race? Confident as he was, he didn’t feel like starting a conversation without your friend hopefully introducing him first.

Just as he expected, your friend pulled you over, introducing you to Reki. You gave him a smile and a quiet “hello” before going back to your phone. Reki was a bit disappointed, but he didn’t let it show. Soon after, your friend announced he needed to go talk to his friend, and he’d leave you two to chat for a few minutes. You watched him leave with pleading eyes, begging him not to leave you with this complete stranger

There was a silence between you two for a minute or so, but Reki soon broke the silence. “So how did you find the race? Did you like it?” The words were already spilling out, and you felt yourself get embarrassed. What were you supposed to say??

“Yeah, it was..good.” You were mentally kicking yourself, wishing you could say more, but your brain was turning to mush in its attempt to converse with this new person. It didn’t help that he was, well, cute. Like, really cute. His hair was held back with a headband, but a lot of it still managed to escape, his fluffy locks obscuring his vision. You found yourself staring, and only snapped out of it when he waved a gentle hand in front of your face.

“Nothing else? What did you think of my skating? Was I good? Did I look cool?” He was ducking his head down to the part of the ground you were staring at, looking up at you with big eyes. He wasn’t used to talking to such quiet people, but hey, it was something he could get used to. To him, there was something quite endearing about your small smiles and wide eyes, simply taking in the world around you. You reminded him of Langa when he first met him, one-word replies and big eyes. He grinned, hoping you’d warm up to him like Langa did

He began to worry you didn’t want to talk to him when you didn’t respond, but a grin quickly spread across his face when he realised you were blushing. Reki’s mind was going into overdrive as your eyes widened, throwing your hands over your face.

“No! I mean- you were really cool, I liked that trick you did in the middle...” your voice quietened again when Reki dramatically let out a gasp, collapsing to his knees and holding a hand out to you. Your face was practically crimson at this point, frantically looking around, wishing for your friend to materialise and rescue you. You turned back to Reki, about to ask him what he was doing, when he suddenly spoke up.

“THEY SPEAK!!” He shot you another smile. “And here I was under the impression you just stood there and looked pretty.” You felt your face grow impossibly redder, but you surprised even yourself when you let out a loud laugh. Reki looked at you with wide eyes, and he could feel his grin grow even wider. You pulled him off the ground, looking around, still half mortified from his display. You tried to let go of his hand once you picked him up, but he just held it even tighter, his face inches from yours.

“So what I’m hearing is that you liked my skating?” You tried to look away from him, but you could feel yourself getting lost in his amber eyes. Taking the record for the worlds worst timing, your friend came back with a drink in his hand, apologising for how long he took before his eyes landed on the pair of you. To any bystander, the two of you looked quite intimate. Hand in hand, faces inches away from meeting

You pushed away from Reki, resembling a tomato as you waved your hands, telling your friend it wasn’t what it looked like, that you were just talking. You turned to Reki for backup, but you were met with someone who could only be described as though they were on airplane mode. A giddy grin on his face, and a small blush creeping across his face, he quietly ran a hand through his messy hair while giggling. This only worsened your case, turning around to your friend to hide in his shoulder.

Of course, Reki magically ended up with your number by the end of the night, and you were bombarded with texts before you could even set foot outside the doors of S

Langa

Unlike Reki, he’s slightly more versed in the art of silence. You can always guarantee a bit of a brain break when you’re with Langa, just enjoying each other’s company in comfortable silence

As for Langa, he appreciates having someone who doesn’t expect him to be keeping up with them talking a mile a minute. Of course, he loves listening to peoples’ endless babbling too, he just likes to be a bit more active in the conversation sometimes, which you make easy with your quieter demeanour, leaving more space in between your sentences for him to give input

He is glued to your hip in public. Mumbling sweet nothings in your ear as you walk along the streets, he’ll quietly talk about random things he finds strange or funny about the things he sees around him, keeping you in gentle company so you dont feel stressed

At any social gatherings with a lot of people, he’s rubbing circles in your hand, making sure you’re not uncomfortable with the people around you. If at any point he sees you begin to get restless, he’ll excuse the oar of you and take you for a walk, or even just to get a glass of water

The two of you met at the skate park. He’d been practicing with Reki when he saw you walk in with one or two of your friends, shifting from foot to foot as you scanned the park, checking to eye who was there. When your eyes landed on him, you were surprised to see he was looking straight back at you. Embarrassed, you looked away. Suddenly the floor was looking quite appealing to you.

Slightly agape, Langa’s mouth quickly turned into a little pout. You didn’t even smile...Of course, you didn’t even know him, but why did he suddenly feel like he really wanted you to?

Reki watched his friend’s mind spin, a little grin settling on his face. Did little Langa here have a crush? The cogs were already turning in his head, thinking of ways to make the pair of you interact. Not to mention, he wouldn’t mind getting cozy with your friends while you two talked...

“Langaaaa, you should really go talk to them yknow.” Langa almost gave himself whiplash with how fast he turned his head away from you, a look of panic spreading over his face while he stammered out that Reki had it all wrong, that he just wanted to see who’d come into the park. Reki tutted, putting his hand in his chin. He mumbled about how Langa shouldn’t lie, that it was normal to find people hot, which earned him a smack into the back of his skull

Somewhere during the play fight, the two heard a flurry of hello’s being exchanged, and they looked over to where you had been standing. Your friends were now talking to who Langa assumed were more of your friends, and watched as you trailed a little behind, carrying your skateboard awkwardly and not really knowing what to do with yourself. It became apparent to Langa that these new people weren’t friends of yours, and he felt his heart ache as he watched you stand a few feet back, glancing around and at your phone.

Reki saw how Langa stared at you, and before long he was dragging Langa up, and over in your direction. “Come on prince Langa, save your damsel in distress.” Langas brain went jdskhvmhcb as he thought of just what he was supposed to say to you, and hoped Reki would just do the talking. But to his distress, Reki gave him one last push and ran back to where the pair had been sitting. Langa looked back with a face that could only be described as “fuck you, seriously go fuck yourself.” As as he turned back around, he was met with your big eyes and a look of curiosity

He took a deep breath, taking a second to compose himself, and he took a stab at introducing himself

“Uh..hi” he mentally kicked himself, obviously that wasn’t going to do anything?? He was pleasantly surprised when you gave him a smile and a small “hello” in return. This was enough for him to regain his confidence, making another attempt at conversation

“Ok so..I saw you standing here and, uh, I was wondering if you were alright. You just seemed kind of lost.” He gave you a soft smile, giving his shoulders a little shrug as if to say well there you have it. “I’m Langa, by the way.” You looked up at him as he spoke, and Jesus, he could feel himself staring at you again. There was no denying you were incredibly attractive, and from up close it was just amplified. He was brought back to reality when you laughed, and his face lit up when he realised you were going to actually talk to him.

“Well, thank you for your concern, I didn’t really know what I was supposed to do with myself honestly.” You let out a quiet sign, giving him a soft smile before continuing. “It’s my first time here, and my other friends have been here before, they’ve gone over to their friends, and I didn’t really want to interrupt. I still dont exactly know how to ride this thing yet either,” you motioned to the board in your hand, “so you can imagine my predicament.” Langa looked down at you with a smile, quietly laughing before attempting to talk

“Well, if you want, I can give you a few pointers.” You gave him a look of concern, waving your hands around. “Oh no, its fine, you’re with your friend, I wouldn’t want to butt in-“ your rambling was cut short when he grabbed your hand, and you felt your face heat up.

“You’re not interrupting anything. Let me just grab my board and we can start.” He brought you over to Reki, who was acting completely oblivious to what had been going on, even though he was the evil bastard who set the two of you up. He looked up with a smile, handing Langa his board and offering you some food with a wink in both of your directions. He chuckled as he watched Langa lead you away, getting up and grabbing his board, deciding that while your friends were there he might as well attempt to impress them.

“Keep yourself a bit more balanced.” Langa instructed you from atop your board “you wont fall off as much then.” You were glowing from embarrassment, feeling like all eyes were on you as you failed to stand on the board without shaking. You mumbled about how it was easier said than done, sighing as you got off the board again. Langa nudged you to stand onto it again, this time his hands wandered to your waist. If you weren’t crimson before, you were now. Langa quickly realised how suggestive this looked, looking up at you with a panicked expression

“Uh-Not like that! I just..to keep the board still!” He was now redder than you, if that was somehow possible. In an attempt to stabilise yourself, you put your hands over his on your waist, which you soon realised only worsened the situation. You were both a stumbling, red mess within seconds. Reki watched from the sidelines, amused by your ministrations.

After a while, you started to get used to the board, but even after you got comfortable Langa’s arms never left your waist. You had been practicing with him for well over an hour now, and your friends were ready to leave. With giggles and nudges they made their way over to the pair of you, before shouting your name and scaring the shit out of the two of you.

As you got off your board and got ready to leave, Langa grabbed your hand. Your face flushing red once more, you turned to him questionably

“Um.. I had a lot of fun today, would you maybe want to do it again sometime?” Your friends jumped up and down behind you as the pair of you exchanged numbers and a quick hug. Blushing as you linked arms with your friend, you gave Langa one last smile before leaving the park

Maybe you were glad your friends dragged you here today after all

#sk8 the infinity x reader #sk∞#sk8 the infinity #reki kyan #reki kyan x reader #reki x reader #sk8 reki #reki kyan headcanons #langa hasegawa x reader #Langa x reader #sk8 langa #langa hasegawa #langa hasegawa headcanons #reki headcanons #langa headcanons #skate the infinity

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wri0thesley · 3 years ago

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many many anons under the cut bc i didn’t want anyone to feel like i was ignoring them and i wanted to respond to u all! warning for small text too, it was so long i wanted to make it look smaller fgbnjkgkjn

Anonymous asked: NAT... you can write WHATEVER you want! It's your blog, and I hope that rude anons can learn to respect that. I used to be on your blog just for jjba content too, so when you started getting into jjk I was indifferent but eventually you dragged me into jjk so hard!! I already like bnha, so seeing you write for it only made me happier! I hope that you continue to write whatever make YOU happy:) ❤and yes, longer fics certainly doesnt mean it's better, quality over quantity

ahh i’m happy that you are here for all three!! i always feel so accomplished when someone is like ‘your constant screaming made me think about jjk <3′. all three of the fandoms are fairly popular and i tag everything v carefully so i hope people who do use the filtering find that useful!!!

Anonymous asked: Goodness gracious. People really be out there thinking they're entitled to dictating what kind of content you should be making

i think part of it might be that i do take requests so people feel like they have like . . . a certain right to certain kinds of my content? i take requests mostly bc they keep me motivated, i like making content for ppl who cant find what they want bc i’ve Been There, but maybe people think i am a pushover? idk i am just trying to have a good time!!!

Anonymous asked: Hi. I only started following you a few days ago but please ignore that rude anon. People are so fucking entitled towards writers it's insane. I recently had someone throw a fit for "spoiling" something in my fanfic, even though the fic was about a manga-exclusive character, so what did they expect?? Overall I've really enjoyed your writing so random assholes coming to guilt you is just a shitty thing that happens. Keep going with what you wanna do.

ah gosh anon i’m sorry about that :(. i’m always super careful tagging spoilers and stuff but like, if someone clicks on a fic about say, naoya or the steel ball run boys and is mad that i spoil something they havent found out yet . . . yeah thats on them fgbnkjgfkjn

Anonymous asked: That...that anon had the nerve to say "we". The fuck?! No no no anon, YOU'RE the only one talking and you're just talking for yourself, don't you dare try and lump us other anons/followers up with you to make yourself look like you're right. We love you nat and we appreciate you. It's your blog, you're allowed to write about whoever and whatever. This brain dead anon just needs to either go read someone else if they're that salty or write their own stuff if they're that impatient.

gosh i WISH some of my mad anons would just write their own stuff honestly. idk if this anon thought they were talking for everybody but i guess they expected anons to agree with them and not be mad at them. i appreciate u anon ;_;

Anonymous asked: Just want to say that ily and you’re one of the best jojo fanfic writers in my opinion 💗 I don’t think you’re half assing jojo fics and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with you being multi fandom. A lot of jojo blogs have started posting about jjk so it’s not as if you’re the only one. I’m not sure why you get hate like this but I think it’s just because you’re one of the popular writers and that makes people bitter for whatever reason. Keep being you and posting about the things that make you happy 💕

honestly after so long writing for jojo - i’ve written well over 200 jojo reader insert fics - sometimes it feels like i’m retreading stuff, and that’s when i take a break bc i dont wanna half-ass stuff!!! i love all of my fellow jojo friends who are posting about jjk too, i appreciate them <3.

Anonymous asked: Hey my dude, ur writing has really grown since the jojo days and its better and awesome seeing u become happier to branch off and write in different fandoms 🤌🤌 those stupid anons are just boring farts that couldnt be bothered making their own content 😤😤 is it possible to block them to ease ur mind?

hello anon!! i run a statcounter for IPs but it doesnt always work for ppl who access through the tumblr app, i don’t think; a lot of the anon hate i get i just use the ‘block’ option, but last night got to me because i’ve been getting that kind of writer a lot which is . . . a bad look for the jojo fandom who are, as a whole from the ones i’ve interacted with, lovely!!! <3

Anonymous asked: People often forget, the person behind art or writing, is just another regular fan. You deserve to be happy with what you create and we should be thankful you share your talent with us. You also have right to change your main interests, and it's very normal thing. Jojo is one of the MANY things that you write for and all you get from that is a like or share. Its not your job. It's your fun thing to do, in spare time. You haven't betrayed anybody. That person was just rude, selfish and bored.

i am just a person doing my best!!! anime fanfic is one of many interests i have and i already devote a lot of time to it honestly, i love when people tell me they’ve enjoyed something i made bc it makes it feel worthwhile but equally it gets to me a lot when people are rude because i am usually trying my hardest.

Anonymous asked: Bro that jjba anon... the entitlement🤮 Fam, you write whatever you want to write😤 -Saturday

dfnjbkjnkgf i find most fic readers are NOT entitled at all and are just grateful but when they are . . . oof.

Anonymous asked: It's funny how people throw "we got you popular" and they think you start apologize and cry. Your writing and passion made you gain few numbers on a follow counter, nothing more. I think I'm too old for stuff like this, we are nothing more, but +1 on a number scale. You ow us nothing, we ow you nothing. Popular... Funny word. You just write for fun of it, fake scenarios about someone's manga characters. It's not that deep. Have fun and don't listen to people like this. I knew it's not that easy, but they are really not that important as they think they are.

extremely fun fact for people who think ‘popularity’ is important to me: i would 100% rather have 10 people who regularly comment, reblog my fics with tags and interact with me than 100 people who read my fic and either leave a like or simply move on. i think this is true for the VAST MAJORITY of writers tbh. i’m glad that people think i am a ‘popular’ blog (i am not in the grand scheme of things, one of my ex-best friends used to run a kpop reader insert blog with like 30,000 followers) bc it gives me an ego boost lmao, but i really just want people to read and enjoy the stuff i write!!!

Anonymous asked: I followed you a while ago for jojo and when my friends started getting into jjk i was like...eh sounds like work...but now that I see you writing for it I feel really motivated to get into it!!! I really enjoy your writing and I want to be able to read the new stuff too!

ah anon i really hope you like it!!! it’s only one season rn if u wanna watch the anime and there isn’t too much of the manga to catch up on either but it is a lot of fun and it’s nice to be in a fandom that’s like, excited about a new chapter and new plot developments every week!

Anonymous asked: Pls dont reply if u dont want to! <3 I'm not sure if this will be of any help to you or not but this is the kind of thing that often helps me and is the only way I know to try comfort others so I wanted to give it a go~

Now im not gonna say 'dont feel bad pls' bc I know that's not really useful but what I do think is useful is just discussing why that anon and many others feel the need to respond that way. As someone who follows a lot of writing blogs myself and have done for a long time, i've seen my handful of favourite writers come and go for different reasons, lose motivation for a while, gain motivation for a while, go from multi to single fandom, or single fandom to multi. Often times as a reader it can be upsetting when things change but it's also important as a reader to understand that some things aren't in anyone's control, I can't control what my favourite writers become a fan of or lose interest of, I can't control things in their personal lives that may motivate or demotivate them to write, but what I can do is support them as long as they're active, and if they move on to do things i'm no longer interested in or i'm the one that changed interests, rather than being upset that they're evolving to do other things or that they're not evolving with me, I think it's important that I still feel thankful for the works that I enjoyed while we were still on the same page and this is how I personally deal with those negative feelings. I think the anons that lash out at you probably just dont know what to do with themselves, maybe they got attached to your works while you were still only a jjba blog and now that you're evolving they're upset, while I understand how they feel, they're going the completely wrong way about it. I've learned to take these things and turn them into something positive for myself or at least something bittersweet that I can move on from but the anons that lash out at you for whatever reason probably haven't learned this yet. Maybe it's because i've moved on and changed interests a lot myself that I know how these things go for both writers and readers but those anons maybe haven't experienced this as much so they dont know what to do with themselves other than complain that you've changed and throw insults at you in an attempt to get you to revert back. None of this is because of the quality of your writing like they want you to believe, it's literally just because you've evolved and while some of your old followers might not like the new content for no reason other than it not being their cup of tea, it's definitely not regressed at all. You are pumping out a lot of content right now but every single thing i've read has just been better than the last. Things that really stand out to me is how well you get characterisation down to a T and all of your dialogue is just on point and from the pov of a reader I think those things seem the hardest to get right so I am such a huge fan of your stuff at the moment and I can tell you're really putting so much thought and care into each and every fic no matter how fast you're producing it, I think the fact that you're also proud of what you're writing at the moment really shines through as well and I just adore the passion that radiates from every completed request as well as in the responses for the subsequent thirsts resulting from these works that appear in your ask box later (I know i've sent quite a few by now~)

Just to be clear i'm not defending those anons in any way, while I can understand what they might be feeling/why they're reacting in the way they are I still believe it's just so immature to be hateful online point blank. Even during a time where I still got upset with writers if they started doing something else I still never targeted that negativity directly to the writer and sending rude or hateful comments whether on anon or not never something i'd stooped low enough to do even when I still had an immature way of thinking, however, I hope that it might make it a little easier to brush them off if we try and understand what they're really upset about, and that they're just putting the blame for their negative feelings onto the wrong thing rather than coming to terms with change themselves.

hello anon!! i appreciate the long message. i do feel bad for people who have no interest in what i’m currently producing and i get that they feel upset about it; i’ve watched a lot of fellow jojo writers move on completely or just stop posting, honestly. this kind of thing is why i was so intense about asking people if it would be better if i made a separate blog but the resounding answer seemed to be ‘i’m just vibing with whatever happens and i’ll block tags as needed’.

i often return to works by my favourite reader-insert writers who no longer write for the fandoms i like (and i read stuff bc it sounds interesting or i trust the person who writes it), but change can be difficult and i guess at this point i’ve - whether u like me or not lmao - been a fixture in jojo reader-insert tumblr for a While so it’s probably kind of jarring.

anyway i really appreciate you and the nice words! <3

Anonymous asked: hi nat! I just wanted to pop in and say that regardless of what fandom you write for, the love and care you pour into your writing and into interacting with followers who care about your work as well is really obvious. you're doing this for FREE and people should appreciate what you've given us so far, since ultimately this blog should be for you, whatever that means to you at any point in time. it's ok to jump fandoms! the important thing is that you feel good about what you're producing and that it makes you happy. everyone else is just a bonus - but, seeing you on my dash certainly makes me happy : ) I hope you feel better soon!

thank you anon! i’m feeling much better and happier today. birthdays are very difficult for me (i did not think i’d be alive at eighteen, much less 25!) so this event is definitely kind of a way for me to concentrate on something else, and i’m a little bit extra sensitive atm. i appreciate you so much, thank you for the kind words!!! <3

Anonymous asked: Hello! I just wanted to say, write what YOU want and make YOUR writings as long as you'd like. 💖 To the anon who is like "We mAdE yOu FaMoUs dOnt HalF asS iT" stfu, let people do what they wanna do. If you think they half do it, write something better and longer you asshat.

this is an open invitiation to that anon to send me a link to their writing blog and i’ll hype them up i promise <3

Anonymous asked: nat i'm so so sorry about that ask please know that your older followers don't share the same opinion :( sometimes people forget about the living, breathing person behind the screen smh. you are not a machine. you absolutely should not restrict yourself to posting about one fandom forever. yes, we're first pulled in by your amazing content, but we stay for your wonderful personality and work ethic. please just keep being you, taking up projects you feel comfy with! <333 bless u

ahh thank u anon! unfortunately i actually am a writing robot, i’m sorry u had to find out this way. my jojo chip has been removed, please send it back so i can continue to not half-ass my jojo work. fgnjkbgjkfn thank you so much angel!!! i appreciate you ;_;.

Anonymous asked: i don’t think it’s fair for other people to say shit about what you choose to write about because on tumblr and other writing platforms, writers are constantly developing how they write and the fandoms that they write for. it’s not fair for someone to criticize that “you don’t care about jjba blah blah blah” because you can enjoy new shows/manga. and like you said you’ve grown so much!! proud of you nat and im glad that ive been able to read your works (sincerely other nat)

i am STILL waiting for you to come and fight me other nat fgnjkbnf. it’s nice to be enjoying different things! i am constantly learning new things and reading new works and making new friends and improving and i think that’s important. i do care about jjba - a lot! but i can care about other things too! <3

Anonymous asked: I may not be one of your oldest followers, but i've been here for almost 3 years. Yes, i started following u for ur jojo content, but let me tell u, ur newfound motivation and enthusiam for other fandoms was honestly contagiuos for me. And i say this as a person who finds very difficult to move from one interest to another. Jojo is great, but so are other fandoms. Please don't let some faceless scum rob u that motivation. This is ur blog and u r always free to write whatever u want.

honestly, i have been there! i am autistic and i have special interests and watching other people move on to stuff i’m not vibing with has made me sad in the past, but i want people to be happy more than anything and sometimes that means new things and change! <3

Anonymous asked: Hi Nat! I saw that rude anon message & I just wanted to pop in & say that they're wrong. You're not betraying anyone & you should write whatever it is you want to write. I followed you for jojo & I'm not familiar with the other fandoms that you write for, but personally it makes me SO happy to see you enjoying new things! It's always good to find joy wherever you can, so keep writing what you're interested in. There a lot of ppl who want to see you happy and healthy <3

honestly the idea of it being a GRAND BETRAYAL is so funny, i am just writing anime fanfic here and thriving!!! tysm anon! <3

Anonymous asked: Those anons can piss off! They have no right to judge how long or how short your writing is. If they want longer content write it their damn selves. I think your writing has improved wonderfully and I originally followed for Jojo and I'm enjoying all the content period. I don't even watch jujutsu ( not my cup of tea personally) but I love seeing the creativity and the interactions. You write what makes you happy Nat and that's on that! You don't owe anybody anything! I know how hard writing is and when your consuming new content it's hard to make content for something else. That doesn't mean you don't like it any more your just doing something different for a while. Love you and your content and I'm enjoying the love your putting into your content whether long or short. ♥♥💕 Sending love your way!

honestly my idea of ‘short content’ is still over 1k words, i’m not good at reeling myself in! i guess it’s bc they see like, 1.5k jojo fic versus 5k jjk fic but it’s not that i didn’t enjoy the first fic, just that the point and the story came a lot quicker and so did the natural end! thank you anon, i appreciate you ;_;

Anonymous asked: Hello! Just wanted to let your know that I think your writing is awesome, and that you should write for whoever and for whatever you want to! You dont have to stay loyal to one fandom or anything, and your followers shouldn't expect that from you! It's not like they are paying you to write, you are doing this for free, and because you enjoy it and it makes you happy! If they dont like your stuff, they dont have to follow you, they can go to other blogs that cater to their taste, and they definitely don't need to be sending you such hurtful comments, and they dont get to make you feel sad about your writing! Just because they followed you during your earlier stages of writing, doesn't mean you owe them some type of loyalty or compensation! You can write literally whatever you want as long as it makes you happy! That's what your hobby and your blog are for! I hope you know that alot of your followers love your work and think that you are an amazing writer and are down to support the work that makes you happiest! 💖💖

ahh thank you so much anon!!! i am always so bowled over by how many people are nice to me when something like this happens, i am sending you my love <3

Anonymous asked: don’t listen to them!! we love you as a writer no matter what you write, because you’re a good person and a talented writer!! you shouldn’t have to change what you write to please a bitter person, and if they only want jjba, they can go to another blog instead of bringing you down. you’re doing amazing and they should be thankful you grace us with your talents!!

to be totally honest, if i was half-assing or not vibing with content i was making i just. wouldn’t post it. like you’d be able to TELL when i was half-assing stuff just to get words out (source: i have re-read my own nanowrimo works). there are lots of great jjba blogs who could do with more followers n interaction!!! i hope they do find them and i hope they’re nice to them :(.

Anonymous asked: Please don’t pay attention to that anon. People only have that confidence when they have anon turned on. Them looking through your blog despite feeling that way is peak fan behavior and speaks to how addicting your writing is. Naturally, you can’t please everyone and there will be people who are irrational and feel entitled to tell you what to do or what to write no matter what. Trust me when I say they’re a small minority and are more likely probably passing viewers rather than regulars. I check your blog about three or more times a day because I love reading not just your fics but also your takes, banter with other anons, or even random updates. Brainrot posts? LOVE TO SEE IT!!! Desk update? AMAZING!!! With that being said, don’t feel pressured to continue pushing out content for others. Write what makes you happy! You’ve been writing for JJBA for 4 years and it’s completely normal + healthy to get into new media. I’m not sure if it would mean much, but your love for JJK has gotten me excited to start it too!!

anon i really hope you enjoy it!!! sometimes these anons remember stuff i’ve posted and said better than i do tbh, i am living in their heads rent free i guess!

Anonymous asked: I've been following you for a couple of years and honestly it would always be a joy to see when you posted. Your writing has improved and I'm very happy you're enjoying yourself ! I know it hurts hearing and seeing stuff like that but I'm happy you're here. I'm honestly blessed everytime you post. Your writing is phenomenal. I love reading it even if its characters that I dont care for. You capture their essences so well and weave an amazing tale within the prompts and whatnot. You're amazing nat!

wehh thank you so much!!! re: the improvement, i really don’t feel like it has and then i re-read something i wrote when i first started and i’m like oh my god maybe it has. did i really write about jotaro acting like that.

Anonymous asked: Hi Nat. I recently became a follower of yours and I'm really saddened to see you get hate. You seem like a genuinely sweet person with amazing talent! I'm a writer myself and, unfortunately, get the same kind of comments. And when you get those comments, it doesn't leave you feeling motivated. People need to understand that people can and will, at times, grow out of fandoms. (1 Not just that but you're doing all of this for free. Again, I'm sorry you got such a comment. But please know that I'm proud of how far you've come. I'm proud that you're living a life that makes you happy. And no matter what fandom you may find yourself in next, I will always enjoy your writing. Take care of yourself. (2 end

HELLO NEW FOLLOWER I LOVE YOU (i get a lot more a day now than i used to and i feel guilty about not being able to look through so many blogs but i do try and follow back other writers for my fandoms!! ;_;). i’m sorry you get the same kind of comments! i’m always just happy to see people i like enjoying new things, even if i have no interest in it (hello to all of my mutuals who write for hunter x hunter and haikyuu, not interested but i’m sure you’re having a great time and i support you!!!).

Anonymous asked: I'm sure you're getting a barrage of supportive messages now (at least I hope so) but I figured I'd add my voice, because I'm a longtime follower. Your writing is, and always has been, wonderful. I've been so happy to see you and Haz get to a place that works for you both. Idk if it's obvious for everyone, but you seem like you're emotionally in a pretty good place most of the time these days, and it makes me really happy to see that. I followed years ago for JJBA content, but I stayed because regardless of what content you put out, I find your wit delightful. And I'll stick around even if you move fandoms entirely, because whatever content or editorializing you produce is going to be worth reading, regardless of what it's for.

ahh, anon!! thank you for sticking around so long, sorry if you’re old enough to have been around the vore and jorts and spider rohan fiascos! <3 i am definitely a lot more stable than i have been and - barring the Pandemic Related Mental Health Issues - happier! i’m glad that it’s noticeable! <3

Anonymous asked: It actually makes me mad how entitled some people are. Nat, you're not a content creating machine and those who expect you to be are not worth wasting a thought on. Your love for something is not measured in word counts and for you to write every day without getting burned out in the slightest you really must have a burning passion and huge dedication to your craft. If others decide to send hate then allow me to send admiration because I can feel your love and hard work in each post you make!

i try and write every day bc it’s super good for my little ocd/autistic brain to have routines and distract itself, so i’m glad other people can enjoy them because that makes me motivated to carry on! like, i write for myself mostly bc the content i want i sometimes get find, but filling requests and writing for other people also leaves me with happy warm fuzzies too! i appreciate you!! <3

Anonymous asked: If people only care about your writing for the jojo porn that’s on THEM, not you. Your writing was amazing when I followed about a year ago, and it’s only gotten better and will continue to get better! I think it really comes through when you enjoy what you’re writing and it adds a whole other layer of worth to it, because not only are you making free content but you LIKE that content and we can all gush about it together!!! More than just fans, I think you’ve created a community here and we don’t just stick around to read smut, I promise you that. -Reronon

i do miss having a discord community bc it was nice to talk to everyone in real time but it was hard work, i am glad that people feel like they can just come into my askbox and gush! i’m not very friendly in real life and people tend to think i am cold and stuck up so i work very hard to try and seem friendly and approachable online, which is much easier for me because i get to think and re-draft before i type! <3

Anonymous asked: Hi Nat! I’m sure you’re getting a lot of messages like this right now but I just wanted to say for what it’s worth that, as a person who originally followed you for jjba content and hasn’t watched/read any of the other series you’re currently writing for, I’m honestly still along for the ride. This is your blog and you’re allowed to do what you want with it and put out what content you feel like writing. Sometimes??? People acquire new interests??????? Shocking! I know absolutely nothing about jjk or bnha but out of curiosity still read some of your posts about them and even though I might not Get It, I still enjoy them because I think you’re a very talented writer! Honestly, as long as you’re still writing, I’m still down to clown, and whenever you take breaks (which are important!) I’ll still be waiting for your return or supporting and respecting your decision to stay away longer. Don’t let the entitled assholes get you down. Utilize YOUR blog and YOUR space however YOU choose. Your talent and kindness speak for themselves. Love you!!! ❤️❤️❤️

anon i care about you and i am so appreciative of you and everyone for sending me such nice messages! i am running out of ways to say it but it’s true, it really does mean a lot to me ;_; <3

#nat.txt

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whorehour · 4 years ago

Text

Wishlist

SIDE NOTE: This was requested but while writing it i accidenly lost the ask beacuse im really dumb:( anyways i hope u like it maureen and im really sorry:((

sypnosis: a one-shot in which yeonjun struggles with buying the reader the perfect birthday present and in the midst of reliving some old memories, they create new ones. 2K WORDS

TW// mild use of vulgur language // very soft fluff

it was 2am when u heard something tick against your bedroom window. you tried to ignore but, it just kept getting louder. as you drew open the curtains you were met with the face of your beloved best friend, choi yeonjun.

"morning sleeping beauty" "its 2am" "the early bird catches the worm" he remarked as he climbed into your room and jumped onto your bed. you want to be mad at him from disturbing your precious sleep but, the truth is that this wasn't something new. it was quite normal for yeonjun to show up at your place at the strangest of times without any warning but that doesnt mean you weren't confused.

"what's all this about yeonjun" you weren't exactly pleased with this spontaneous visit you valued your sleep and yeonjun knew that. "whats this?" you asked as he shoves a crumbled up piece of paper in you face. "this my dear is your wishlist from when you were 8" "how did you get that?" "we made them together on your 8th birthday, here look you wrote that these are the things you want to acomolish in ten years" the memories of your 8th birthday came flooding back. your mum had invited your friends over for a party and after everyone had left you and yeonjun stayed outside in your backyard colouring. then, yeonjun suggest you make a wishlist list of all the things you wanted to accomplish together before your 18th birthday

"i cant believe you still have this" "of course i still have it, i keep everything that's precious to me." "so you snuk into my room at 2am just to show me this?" "yep!" he smiled clearly very proud of himself. he leaned his head against your beds headboard, his eyes sparkling brighter than any star in the sky. you had to admit that your best friend was indeed beautiful which is why you can't understand why he hasn't gotten a girlfriend yet. not that it bothered you, in fact it would’ve bothered you even more if he did. you've always had a little crush on yeonjun but you never even dared to reveal your true feelings for the sake of the friendship.

"hello? earth to y/n?" "oh sorry... thank you i love it, really" yeonjun mirrored your smile and with a playful glint in his eyes, he stood up and went back to the window and looked at you as if he was expecting you to follow him.

"what are you doing?" "read number 6" "mc donalds at 2am? really?? now??" "its 2am isn't it? hurry up birthday girl, im hungry" you blinked twice in confusion trying to process all that was happening. you ignorantly thought that the wishlist was the gift paying no attention to its contents, but of course there was always something more when it had to do with yeonjun.

"are you sure this is legal?" "probably not...hey, dont give me that look this was your idea" you and yeonjun were currently at an abandoned apartment building ready to check number 9 off the wishlist, having a picnic on the roof of an abandoned building under the stars. you had to admit, this birthday present was becoming quite scary, but the thought of getting caught doing something this stupid with your best friend was more than exciting. you finally reached the top floor and opened the door which lead to the roof. the apartment building its self was about 12 stories high so, you were quite high up.

"the views so pretty" "yeah... beautiful" you didn't notice how yeonjun was looking at you with so much love in his eyes. to him you were the most beautiful and precious thing and seeing the way your eyes twinkled with happiness made his heart skip a beat. if it weren't for your impatient whines to set everything up and start eating, he would've told you how he felt right then and there, but everything happens for a reason.

an hour later and you were both laying under the stars talking and laughing and sometimes not saying a word, the silence was never awkward between you two, in fact you found so much comfort in each others company that sometimes no words were needed.

"did you feel that?" "feel what?" "its raining" "what!? hurry grab the stuff lets-" you were starting to stand up when yoenjun pulled you back down. he reached inside his jean pockets and pulled out the whish list. "number 2" he said nonchalantly. number two was special to both of you. it was something you always wanted to do but never had the chance because your parents would scold you, over time you had forgotten about it...until now. yeonjun stood up and extended his hands to help you get up. he pulled you in close and started swaying from side to side.

"there's no music" you mumbled and right on que, he started humming your favourite song. it was a magical moment, just like you had dreamed about when you were eight. it felt like a movie scene and you didnt want it to end. yeonjun held you close as you rested your head against his chest and whispered and it was at that moment you both realised how deeply in love you were with each other.

"you know, when i was eight years old i considered myself a great artist. however, today...not so much” "come y/n its the last thing on the list we have to do it" "alright fine, open the paint bucket" number 10 was very... ambitious. you wanted to paint a disney castle on one of your bedroom walls. sure the idea was cute, but it would've been cuter if it was done by a professional and not by two teenagers who can barely draw stick figures. but alas, yeonjun insisted to stick to the list and so, here you both where, ready to (ruin) paint over your white bedroom wall.

"ready y/n?" "nope" "good"

"THATS SO NOT A CASTLE" "WHAT DO MEAN ITS PERFECT" "lets just paint over it yeonjun" "no. we're leaving it as it is. its got character. you clearly dont understand art." "oh really? do you understand this" as the last word rolled off of your tongue, you painted a nice blue line across yeonjuns arm. he laughed for a second, then got serious and started running after you with a paint brush drenched in white paint. your bedroom filled with laughter and screams as yeonjun picked you up and pinned against the wall. he was so dangerously close to your face that you could feel his breath fan over your lips. you didn't move nor did you want to. yeonjun however, inching closer and closer until you could feel his soft pink lips on yours. the kiss was soft and short after two seconds he pulled back with wide eyes an apology already prepared, but you didnt give him any time to say a word, instead you wrapped your arms around his neck tightly and drew him into a deeper kiss. yeonjun finally relaxed and melted in your embraced as he kissed you back with so much love and passion. his hands snaked around your waist and pulled you closer if that was even possible. you could feel his tongue poke against your lips asking for permission and you willingly let him in. as your tongues battled for danced around in each other’s mouths, yeonjun wrapped his hands around your thighs and lifted you up. you wrapped your legs around his waist as he walked towards the bed where he laid you down softly.

"you sure this is ok?" he whispered above you.

"more than ok...please, dont stop again" that was enough for yeonjun to strip off his shirt and go back to kissing you. his lips travelled down towards your jaw and down to your neck. he started to kiss all over your neck.until he found your sweet spot. the sound of your breathless moans cause yeonjuns pants to tighten as he littered hickies all over your neck. he pulled back to admire his work and his eyes travelled upwards to find a bright smile on his face. yeonjun felt his heart flutter as the sight and leaned in again to place a chaste kiss on your lips before pulling your top over your head.

"you're so beautiful" he whispered as his littered kisses all over your chest and stomach. his kisses kept getting lower and lower untill he reached the waistband of your sweats. "may i?" he asked to which you eagerly nodded. he removed your sweatpants dangerously slow which cause you to whine in impatience, earning a breathless laugh from the man above you. you were getting impatient by how slow things were moving so you flipped yeonjun over and sat on his lap. his reaction was priceless, eyes wide and mouth opened ever so slightly he looked like a deer in headlights. he watched eagerly as you reached behind your back to remove your bra and tossed it wherever.

the sight in fornt of yeonjun was enough for him to buck his hips upwards. his hands travelled towards your chest as you bent down to kiss him again while grinding on him. yeonjun couldn't help but moan, he flipped you over again and stripped himself of his pants and boxers. "like what you see?" yeonjun laughed at your wandering eyes. you didnt respond instead pulled him into another deep kiss but this time it was sloppier. yeonjuns hands slid down and removed your underwear, his lips never leaving yours. you could feel him lining himself into your entrance and gripped his arms which caused yeonjun to pull away from the kiss. “dont worry, i got you... i wont hurt you i promise” you trusted yeonjun with your life and you couldn't feel safer with him, but you were still nervous. he pushed inside of you and you winced and the streched. yeonjun didn't move a muscle he was so scared of hurting that he waited for your command before he started moving his hips. he kissed your lips to distract you from the pain

"i love you" he whispered "i love you too"yeonjun buried his head into your neck and soon, the pain turned into pleasure and you started moaning in yeonjuns ears."f-faster" you moaned out. yeonjun didnt hesitate to buck his hips forward at a faster rate. he sat up and lifted your legs over his shoulders and moaned at the feeling of your warm walls wrapped tightly around his length. the view of yeonjun moaning and bitimg his lips as his hear stuck to hia forehead due to the sweat, had you moaning and cleanching around him

"fuck- stop that or ill- fuck" he continued to pound into you not caring how loud the two of you were being. yeonjun looked at you and could tell by the way your face was twisting and how you were tightening around him that you were close."come with me baby" his growled in your ear. his voice alone was enough to send you over the edge as you came on his dick. the feeling of your walls pulsing around him caused him to pull out and come on your stomach. the view of yeonjun moaning as he came on you was breathtaking. daringly, you scooped up his cum from your stomach and placed your digits in your mouth, sucking every finger while keeping eye contact with yeonjun. yeonjun moaned at the sight and scooped up the remaining cum and shoved his fingers into your mouth and watched in awe as you sucked his fingers clean. after he pulled his fingers out he leaned in and kissed you once again, tasting himself on your tongue.

he pulled himself back and laid beside you as you both started up at the ceiling, trying to process all that just happened. "well, that wasn't on the list" you laughed and yeonjun joined in as he pulled you closer. you rested your head against his chest and wrapped your arms around his figure after pulling the covers over both of you. yeonjun kissed the top of your head lovingly and whispered "i love you" “i love you too...we still need to paint over that castle by the way." "ssshhh dont ruin the moment"

#yeonjun soobin beomgyu taehyun heuningkai txt tommorowbytogether yeonjunsmut yeonjun fluff kpop requested imsosorry

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mizufae · 4 years ago

Note

4, 9, 21, 30, 48, 68

SO MANY ASKS, MY BOREDOM RECEDES

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

ugh. I was the super smart but smelly kid, basically. I got placed in a GT core program in 4th grade (gifted and talented) and even there I was immediately shuffled to the second to last rung on the social ladder, I was the most normal one of the kids who ate erasers and were obviously autistic. Like also, I guess I was described as “an old soul” and “rude” because I used bad words. Before the GT program I was a bookworm and before that I was “extremely shy” but in 2nd grade I woke up one morning and was suddenly obnoxious. I suspect that my teachers didn’t know what the hell to do with me most of the time, but I always got really good grades despite refusing to do a lot of homework so it was kind of hard to crack my nut, I guess. One time in fifth grade I was called “tactless”.

9. favorite smell in the summer?

Honeysuckle on a warm clear night.

The town I moved to when I was seven years old has a big festival every year with craft booths and outdoor concerts and lots of food and carnival stuff and they have fireworks! It was within walking distance of our house, so every summer we’d walk there in the afternoon and spend a couple evenings there. This was how I saw Carbonleaf for free about a month before they made it really big! Anyway, here is the memory:

Walking home at night, sticky leather sandals on my feet. My friend met up with me while at the festival and she peels off to get to her neighborhood a few blocks along. My mom and dad are meandering about half a block ahead of me. I have a cracked glowstick around my neck, it’s a soft green and pink. The firework smoke has mostly cleared and the nearly full moon washes the dark streets with enough light to navigate without the flashlight my mom had tucked in her purse. The streets on this block don’t have sidewalks so we have to be careful, but everyone is walking home around this time so it’s not too dangerous. The breeze passes through and any lingering smoke is blown away, replaced with a floral waft. I don’t understand what it is until I bump into my parents who have stopped. My dad is picking at a bush that’s grown over a chainlink fence. “What are you doing?”

“Eating honeysuckle,” my dad responds. I make an incredulous noise. “You can eat it, see? You pick a flower, like this, without any leaves on the bottom, and then pinch off the bottom. The stamen will come through and pull the nectar down... Then you suck it like the bottom of an ice cream cone. It’s sweet. Here, try it.”

After I try one and mangle it, my dad prepares one for me. I’m surprised. I’d only eaten pansies before, and those tasted like mint and parsley had a baby, not sweet at all. “Can you eat the petals?”

“Yeah, but they don’t taste like anything. Here, you want more?”

“I can do it this time.”

“Okay, be careful though, don’t pick any too low down, dogs can pee on it.”

“Ew, Dad!”

At this point my mother chides us on back home, but I pulled off a big tendril to pick at the rest of the way.

21. obsession from childhood?

When I was little I was terrified of most things, but a big thing that really freaked me out was clowns and also people in mascot costumes. As an adult I have made some uh... progress on this (am I a furry? am I a clownfucker? I not NOT those things...) but anyway in an attempt to get me to maintain my chill if I accidentally found a clown or mascot at one of a million children friendly places where such characters appear without warning (the zoo, a baseball game, the mommy and daughter beauty pageant my mom idiotically signed us up for when I was like, three... every halloween ever... the library...) they rented this movie that was like, a behind the scenes clown circus documentary.

I have spent a solid 20 minutes trying to look it up just now and it is ungoogleable because of all the trendy murderous clown bullshit these days, thanks a lot stephen king, but anyway. My older brother had to watch it with me the first time but it was like... the clown showed how he went from just a guy through every step of putting on the makeup and costume, and some juggling stuff and some other tricks, and what makes a funny physical joke, and some other circus things... And then he took off the clown outfit and became a regular guy again. I WAS OBSESSED. Apparently, I requested we rent this movie from blockbuster EVERY TIME for MONTHS to the point where blockbuster offered to sell us the VHS. I still remained scared of clowns for years after this but it helped me out a lot and also it’s connected to my whole thing about practical effects. I also watched the jim hensons secrets of the muppets thing about twenty bajillion times, it all exists in the same space in my brain.

30. places that you find sacred?

Gazebos and thresholds, mostly. Also I once had a religious experience staring at a Van Gogh in the National Gallery of London. It was Wheatfield with Crows. I don’t think I saw god, because I dont particularly believe in god much, but I do feel like... some part of me cracked open and was able to connect with some part of a person who had painted it a hundred years ago. I only learned that it was possibly the last thing he ever painted like, a year later. I was in London visiting a friend who had moved there a year before, we were in our senior year of high school, I was 17 and applying to art schools at the time, so maybe it was just a thing about, like, the right time and mental space for it, but also... me and Vincent are like... yeah. This is what I hope I see when I die, etc.

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

I hope that I would be an apricot but that’s just cuz I really like them. Maybe I am a coconut, hairy on the outside and a hard nut to crack.

When I started to grow boobs, my mom told me a funny story about how in college she walked in on her roommate standing in front of the mirror in just her underwear, cupping her breasts. And when my mom was like “uh... what are you... doing?” her roommate was like “sigh... do you think I have oranges? Or are they more like tangerines... I wish I had grapefruits like you!” and from then on the citrus system of breast classification was set. Hippies, amirite?

Anyway my boobs kept growing and growing and growing. I am currently a K cup??? But anyway one day as a teenager I was in the grocery store and they had these fruits that were EVEN BIGGER than a grapefruit. They were pale green and smelled really nice! And when we sliced it open it had SO MUCH PITH, but the fruit inside was a pretty pink... It’s a pomelo! The precursor to grapefruits. My breasts are now bigger than even pomelos, but whenever I see them in the market I’m like “my boob fruit!”

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

I try my best to taste foods I’ve disliked over and over again throughout the years to get myself to become okay with them because I find the enjoyment of food to be vitally important to my willingness to continue existing. But one thing I will NEVER force myself to eat again is natto. I tried it about four different times, once the cheap conbini kind, once at an extremely swanky japanese hotel breakfast, one in a really nice sustainable sushi restaurant with my favorite fish mackerel, once from a friend’s fridge, and UGH, every time, I just wanna spit it back out immediately. Sorry, fam.

In terms of things that come in different flavors I think the grossest soda is the grapefuit favorito which is like drinking bubbly soap.

#tijuanabiblestudies

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thorne93 · 4 years ago

Text

Inside the Criminal Mind (Part 37)

Prompt: You’re married to Dr. Spencer Reid of the BAU, and are a distinguished doctor yourself on the team. You’re sent down to Miami, Florida for teaching and as a side request from the FBI, to investigate a string of missing persons. When you think you’ve figured out who the unsub is, your life becomes more complicated than you ever could’ve imagined.

Word Count: 2604

Warnings: (throughout the fic –>) death, blood, gore, killings, language, disturbing mental notions, mentions of rapes/murder/etc (You know, Dexter and Criminal Minds related business)

Notes: Thank you so much to @arrow-guy, @carryonmyswansong, and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo - without each of you, I couldn’t have finished, written, or properly navigated this story. Each of you helped me fish out details that were incredibly important to me. Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo… Aesthetic by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo

This is a crossover of Criminal Minds x Dexter. First time writing Dexter.

Also, the timeline is after Season 1 of Dexter, but during season 14-ish of Criminal minds into Season 15. Enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

You watched your husband and Cat put on skates and go out to the rink and for a long while they just skated, saying nothing. Spencer couldn't skate at all, and Cat was skating all over the place. She caught up to him and held onto his arm to help him skate and you watched from the side with burning in your eyes and stomach.

It’s a very good thing Dexter taught you to keep your emotions in check. You’d been here before though. Jealous. First with JJ, and it took a long time for s Spencer to convince you there was nothing there. Then with Max, and that had yet to be addressed, and now, a psychotic killer was wheeling your husband around a rink and he was actually smiling.

Why is it when Cat Adams takes him on a random date, he can smile and have fun, knowing the hell she put him through. But you and him were at each other’s throats for months when he found out you were a killer. You were his wife. The love for you should’ve shone through everything else.

So what was the difference? Could he not forgive you for the lying? You knew he was jealous of Dexter but now… Now he’d had three women that made you question your entire marriage in the course of half a year. You had been nothing but open and honest about your entire relationship with Dexter since he found out.

Did he really not see how any of this would affect you? The constant attention given to max/ The slight flirting he was doing with Cat? He didn’t have to flirt. Cat knew it, you knew it, Spencer knew it. He just had to play the game -- he didn’t have to enjoy it.

Cat mentioned that if you weren’t here, she’d request a song from the DJ and make out with Spencer right now. They skated some more and she acknowledged that Spencer would try to get inside her head, so he asked about her baby. She said she didn’t want to talk about it. He said he was trying to use the hormonal effect against her.

“Oh, really? Um, waht about sex?” She skated towards him and wrapped her arms around his neck, he wrapped his hands around her waist, and you stiffened. “Why don’t you use that against me?”

Real date or not, it’s never a pretty sight to see your husband that close to another woman.

She slightly pushed away from him and he had trouble staying upright. She made a face of disgust and slapped him so hard that he fell over.

Your eyes went wide with rage. She skated over to where you were, trying to skate past you, but you grabbed her hand in a swift motion, almost too fast for anyone to see and you bent her hand backwards, threatening to break her wrist.

“If you ever touch my husband again, I will kill you. And my method won’t be as humane as a needle in the arm,” you darkly vowed as she bent backwards, wincing. “Are we clear?”

“Jeez, you weren’t this jealous last time,” she responded.

In the background, you could hear Spencer and Luke shouting your name.

“Y/N! Y/N!” Spencer cried out, skating towards you.

You applied more pressure, any more and her wrist would fracture. She was nearly on one knee by now from the way you were pushing.

“Are we clear?” you asked again.

“Yes!”

You released her and stood straight up again as Spencer skated over to you. He gave you a look of anger but you returned it to him.

He spent the next few minutes talking to her, telling her how he couldn’t get her out of his mind and you wanted to roll your eyes. She asked if Spencer thought about her when he kissed you and he said sometimes. The next thing she wanted was to see where you two lived so blissfully happily.

So, within a matter of seconds, everyone was loaded up into the SWAT van and everyone went over to your home. Spencer got out his keys and started to unlock the door before she stopped him.

“Did you really mean what you said?” she asked.

“”Yes.”

“Prove it,” she ordered and you just rolled your eyes. He’d refuse. You knew he would.

But faster than you could blink, Spencer’s hands went to her hair and his mouth collided with hers. Your eyes went wide in shock as your stomach dropped. Fake or not, your husband was kissing another woman, in front of you, on your porch. He was kissing her hungrily, in a way he hadn’t kissed you in a long time.

Luke glanced at you, gauging your reaction, seeing as just a few minutes ago you nearly broke her wrist and threatened to end her life. You couldn’t watch, but you couldn’t look away.

She swung your front door open to reveal a woman in your house and you frowned.

What the hell was this?

Spencer and Cat broke apart and you looked at them, then looked at the girl.

“Max, what are you doing here?” Spencer breathed.

Of course it was fucking Max inside your house. Of course this day was going to get worse and worse.

Luke ordered that someone get Max out of here but Max said, “No, no, no, she’ll kill them if I leave.”

“Kill who?” you asked as you stepped inside the foyer of your home.

“My father and my sister. Look I got a call from some woman with my sister screaming in the background. I was told to come here, that there would be a key taped underneath the porch swing. Spencer, what is happening?!””

“We recovered your father, but your sister is still missing. Look I say we put cat in her cell and we regroup,” Luke suggested

“No. Bring her in here and leave us alone,” Spencer quietly ordered. He then set it up so that the team would hear all of you the entire time, instructed Max on what not to say, and they let Cat come back in.

Fantastic. You were in your home with a woman that was monopolizing your husband’s time and a psychotic killer that was obsessed with him.

“We’re all here, what do you want to talk about?” Spencer demanded as she walked in.

“So, so much.” She eyed Max and said, “She’s cute. I see why she turned your head away from your wife.”

“What are you talking about?” Spencer asked as she walked in your home, touching things and looking at the art and decor.

“You’re married?” Max asked as if she didn’t know and your face whipped to Spencer. You were dying to know why that would be a bit of news to Max.

Finally, she stopped walking and turned to you. “Did it make you mad that I was kissing your husband?”

“No.”

“Why not? You nearly broke my arm for slapping him. Is he free real estate? Speaking of which, he kissed me, so you can’t kill me.”

“No, but I’d hope you’re not stupid enough to think the kiss was real.” You cocked your head.

“Are you going to hurt my sister?” Max suddenly asked, taking a step forward

“No. Not if she follows instructions. It could be a learning experience for her.” After a moment, everyone got settled in in your living room. “Normally Spencie and I, we play games, but tonight, I’ve brought you all here to make a point. Y/N, you should know the truth about your husband.”

“I already know everything there is to know about my husband,” you evenly said.

“Oh, really? Did you get the mail today?”

“Yes, why?”

“Go check your mail.”

You got up and looked and found an envelope that was addressed your name, but no address or return address.

“Open it,” Cat ordered.

You peered at her, wondering what the game was. You opened it, and a stack full of photos came out. One was a picture of Spencer carrying Max through a sprinkler system at the park. Another was the two of them laughing over coffee. Another was her hand on his in a booth at a restaurant.

“So? I knew they were spending time together,” you asked, throwing the photos on the coffee table as you looked down at Cat.

“You knew how much, but you didn’t know how. Does that look friendly to you or flirty? Not to mention Max here didn’t even know he was married. Hid the wedding ring and then never mentioned you. How does that make you feel?” she pressed.

“Fine. That doesn’t mean anything. I never came up. He tries to avoid talking about work, and I’m part of his work.”

“Don’t be blind, Y/N, you’ve never been stupid, dont’ start nowy. It’s not a cute look. Not mentioning his work is one thing, but you, his wife? Hmm, it appears our spencie has been a naughty boy.”

“He isn’t ‘our’ anything.”

“Sure he is. Just because I didn’t get a picture of him kissing Max over here doesn't mean it hasn’t happened or that it won’t. He kissed me without hesitation to save her family.”

“He did that to save two people, it doesn’t matter who they are.”

“But it does. See, I know the real Dr. Reid. He’s not this bookish genius that saves the day and has all the answers.”

“Oh, yeah? Who’s the real me, Cat?” Spencer prompted.

“The real Spencer Reid throws women against walls, and hisses that he’s going to kill them,” Cat said.

“That was a very different situation,” Spencer said.

“No it wasn’t.”

“What’s she talking about?” Max asked.

“Why don’t you explain it? She won’t believe it coming from me,” Cat said.

“Two years ago Cat kidnapped my mother. Just like tonight, she got under my skin, and--.”

“You threw her against a wall?” Max asked, clearly appalled.

“Don’t skimp on the details, Spencie,” Cat instructed as she paced around. “She should know everything, as your mistress.”

“I’m not his mistress,” Max responded.

“She was pregnant at the time, and I knew that when I hurt her.”

“And, the next day, I miscarried. The end.”

“That’s not true,” Spencer retorted quickly, a look of concern washing over him.

Oh, he was concerned Cat miscarried, but not about him committing infidelity. Nice to know where you stood.

“It most certainly is true. Check my medical records. So now you both see. Max, you see that Dr. Reid is actually a lot darker than you thought. He’s married, he’s a liar, and a cheat--”

“I never cheated,” Spencer corrected quickly.

“No, but you thought about it and you didn’t think twice about kissing me to prove a point.”

“What is this?” Max asked, jumping up. “What is this sick twisted game you three are playing?”

“Okay, fine,” you said, your voice hard. “You want to break up my marriage with vague photos, fine, but why take Max’s family. What do they have to do with this?”

“Because I want to show everyone what happens if you involve yourself with Spencer Reid. See, Maxine here should know that this is what life is like for anyone who knows him.”

“So why not abduct me?” you challenged.

“You’re already married, it’s too late to show you anything new, except what he’s done with Max here. You should be thanking me, Y/N. No woman will want to get near Dr. Reid.”

“Thanking you? You’ve put two innocent people's lives in danger,” you responded, your teeth gritting together.

“You’re being very ungrateful. I’m saving Maxie from the inevitable danger she’ll get in with Spencie and I’m trying to show you that he’s just like every other scumbag guy out there. He’s out for himself and that’s it.”

“I can't believe you didn’t tell me you were married,” Max responded, clearly upset and now you realized you had a reason to be too. What had they done that would cause concern for being around a married man?

“See? Men are pigs,” Cat spat as she kneeled in front of Max. “You’ve been hurt before like this. Been the other woman. Tell me about it. I could have little sis and Juliette go over to his place and take care of him.”

“Just give her what she wants,” Spencer encouraged.

“He’s just saying that so I’ll call and they can trace it.”

Max jumped up, ended the landline phone call that was keeping the team in contact, and begged Cat to get confirmation her sister was alive. But Cat insisted on a name and a story first. So Maxine started in on a story about a man she knew that made her feel special, made her feel like she was on top of the world, only to find out he was married with two kids. So when she confronted him, he got violent, and she hit him over the head with a vase that killed him. She told 911 it was self defense, but she went there looking for a fight, a way to hurt him.

Cat entered the phone number, the text, and everyone waited on confirmation that her sister was alive. She said, “See? There, now everyone is miserable. Maxine is right back to being the other woman. Spencer has broken two women’s hearts. Better than their neck though, right Spencie? And Y/N sees her husband as the cheating, lying, psycho he is. I mean, in one night, we’ve determined he could kiss me easily, on your front porch no less, and with Maxine here…” She shook her head before looking down. “Oh look. Proof sis is alive.”

Maxine grabbed the phone and dashed out of your house and showed your team the photo. You and Spencer didn’t speak as Cat was reloaded into the SWAT van and you drove to the prison.

“Do you know why I did this? Why I really did this?” Cat asked.

“To prove I’m a monster, just like you,” Spencer said, his eyes meeting yours from across the van.

“No, silly,” Cat retorted before resting her head on his shoulder. “I just wanted to see you again.”

Your eyes flashed with pain and heartbreak as you stared at her.

“You ruined my marriage and the only friendship I’ve had in a long time, just to see me? You could’ve just written me a letter.”

“Would you have written back?” she asked.

He didn’t respond and the rest of the ride was silent until you reached the prison. They oepned the doors, and began to unload Cat.

“You know, just because those pictures didn’t show Spencer kissing Max, it doesn’t mean he wasn’t cheating,” Cat said as she got out of the van.

You frowned as you said, “What do you mean? Of course it does. If you couldn’t get one picture of them being physical--”

“Don’t forget who your husband is, Y/N. His love language isn’t physicality. It’s books...poems...museums… He’s a lover of the mind. You might want to ask Maxine just how many gifts she got from Spencie here.” She glanced at Spencer before looking to you again. “It’s been a real pleasure. It’s too bad I won’t be there to see the divorce finalize. Best date ever.” She gave you her signature crazy look, and then they walked her away.

It was only you and Spencer in the back of the SWAT van now.

“Y/N,” he started softly.

“Don’t,” you warned through gritted teeth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tagging:

Forever Tag:

@essie1876

@magpiegirl80

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

@iamwarrenspeace

@marvel-imagines-yes-please

@superwholocked527

@missinstantgratification

@thejemersoninferno

@rda1989

@munlis

@thefridgeismybestie

@bubblyanarocks3

@igiveupicantthinkofausername

@kaliforniacoastalteens

@feelmyroarrrr

@kaeling

@friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo

@damalseer

@heyitscam99

@yknott81

@thelittlebigirl

@glitterquadricorn

@xxqueenofisolationxx

@little-dis-kaalista-pythonissama

@bittersweetunicorm

@alyssaj23

@sea040561

@princess76179

@thisismysecrethappyplace

@sarahp879

@malfoysqueen14

@ellallheart

@breezy1415

@marvelmayo

@paintballkid711

Spencer Reid

@camigt1999

@ultrarebelheart

@lenawiinchester

@esoltis280

ITCM

@arganfics

@zozoleesi

#inside the criminal mind #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid #dexter #dexter morgan #dexter fic

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witchcraft-in-wonderland · 4 years ago

Text

Weeping Beauty(Pt.3)

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

Roman awoke the next morning to Virgil curled up against him, shivering slightly.

"Virgil? What's wrong? Are you alright?" Roman ran his fingers across Virgil's face, worry growing in his eyes.

"Everythings- c-c-cold," Virgil mumbled, pressing close into Roman's chest.

"Oh Vivi dont worry, I'll get us more blankets, we can sleep in it'll be alright," said Roman. Virgil whined as he got up, but settled slightly as Roman draped the covers back over him.

"Good morning Roman, is Virgil not awake yet?" Logan said, he was sitting in Remus' lap, the latter leaning lazily on his shoulders, clearly half asleep.

"He is, but he's cold, I'm getting some more blankets and we're having another off day, I might check to see if somethings off with the AC in our room," Roman replied as he walked back past them with at least three comforters in his arms. He lay them out on the bed and buried himself under alongside Virgil.

"It'll be alright Vi, you'll be better tomorrow I'm sure of it," said Roman, planting a kiss on Virgil's cheek.

"R-Roman- warm," was all Virgil could seem to get out. He pressed his lips back against Roman's, wrapping his arms around Roman's neck and pulling himself closer. Roman held Virgil by his waist, it felt like trying to hold onto a block of ice. Even Virgil's lips were cold, as though he'd been in a snowstorm merely seconds prior.

"Shhh, Virgil it's ok, you're going to be ok, I'll get Patton to make some soup, he's good at that, that'll warm you up," Roman turned to the other side of the bed to grab his phone, he felt Virgil burrowing into his back and swinging his own legs over Roman's, as though he were a koala, and Roman a tree. He texted the request to Patton, careful with his wording so as not to distress anyone else in the house. Once he'd gotten a response he went back to coddling Virgil, running his hands through his hair and pressing soft kisses all across his face.

When Patton finally arrived with what Roman hoped would be Virgil's cure, Roman left the room to check for something wrong with the vents, but he found nothing.

The next day Virgil was still freezing to the touch, though now it was only in some places, in others he was so hot it was as if his skin had burst into flames. It was torture for Roman to watch him suffer like this. Logan had at first said it must have been a fever, yet every time they checked Virgil seemed to have a normal temperature. No doctor would answer their calls and every time they went to an office they seemed to be closed.

"Oh Vivi my poor emo nightmare I'm so sorry, shhh, it'll be ok, I'll fix this somehow I promise," Roman said, pressing his forehead to Virgil's, no matter if it hurt to touch. He wiped the tears away from Virgil's eyes, clenching his own shut to prevent himself from crying as well.

This temperature changing went on for nearly two months, Roman having to issue announcements at Virgil's request that no art or writing would be posted for personal reasons. Roman searched through every medical book in the library, pleading that one might have the answers he needed.

"Please please please have something! Anything! I cant see him like this anymore please!" He begged nearly every librarian in the city to give him some kind of information, but none seemed to have any answers.

Virgil's condition only seemed to worsen, soon he was coughing up liquids even Logan couldnt identify, ones that changed color based on what they were in contact with, that foamed and bubbled at random times, sometimes just regular clear water.

Still, no one had any clue what was going on with him, not even the alternative doctors nor those that were more in tune with "magic" or "unnatural" maladies that Roman had asked for help. It was as though this were completely new, or that, if it wasnt, everyone had forgotten it had ever existed.

Roman went over the information in his mind, everything he and Virgil had ever done in the days leading up to the sudden illness, and his mind landed on one thing.

Standing at the steps of Eli's apartment, Roman could feel a chill racing it's way down his spine.

"Why hello Roman, what brings you back here?" Eli said as he opened the door, there was another boy leaning his head on Eli's shoulder, with silvery hair and red eyes.

"What did you do to Virgil." Roman stated, trying to keep the growl in his voice low.

"Oh? Something wrong with him? I never noticed," Eli said, a faint smirk crossing his face.

"Dont give me that look! I've heard you talking about curses and diseases before! I know you did something to him!" Roman said, clenching his hands into fists to keep them from shaking.

"Oh Princey you poor dear, whatever's wrong with Virgil I had nothing to do with it! You must be going mad with grief or something," Eli said, Evan let out a soft chuckle.

"TELL ME. WHATS WRONG WITH HIM." there was no hiding the malice in Roman's voice now, he puffed his chest out, closing the space between himself and Eli, glaring so intensely he almost hoped it might turn the two boys into stone.

Eli looked less than impressed. "If you want to know what's wrong with him, I suggest you ask an even older friend," Eli said, his eyes glinting in the light. He slammed the door in Roman's face, leaving the red-haired man to ponder the words.

Virgil didnt respond to much anymore, at this point in his illness vines had begun to grow from spots on his body, his eyes, mouth, there were even leaves poking their way out of his arms and legs.

Roman had had enough of it, he'd finally worked out Eli's hint, and this was all going to end tonight.

The stories Roman and Remus' mother had told them passed through his head all the way down the stone pathway in the woods. But he didnt care. He remembered different stories now, the tales Eli had told about the dragon witch, about how easy it was to get her to trust you.

Virgil was dying, and Roman had a dragon to slay in his place.

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

Tag list:

@nerosdayinhell

@official-lucifers-child

@meowthefluffy

@spooky-scary-virgil

@misunderstoodshadowling

@lovesupernova25

@riverraysong

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mothmansfriend · 5 years ago

Text

when i’m sad oh god i’m sad (pt. 2)

link to pt. 1

follows a very similar timeline to @tearxofink‘s fic Rules for a Functioning Alcoholic but will prob have differences (such as no established relationships) and takes place in @illogicallyinclined‘s hockey au after the mention of Remus possibly having undiagnosed bipolar disorder

update: i think its important to acknowledge roughly where this takes place in the big timeline bc D doesn’t really drink past freshman yr in this AU because of self preservation and trauma, alcoholism was more an issue before then in high school (when remus and d were Rowdy Boys) but the stress of Logan’s concussion lead to some heavy drinking that was caught quickly by Virgil because Remus Cannot Keep Secrets.

summary: Remus has undiagnosed Bipolar Disorder and is dealing with a severe depressive episode in the aftermath of realizing that binge drinking with D wasn’t just his own search to Feel Something, but was also D’s relapse into alcoholism. Remus comes to the realization of lost time during manic episodes and refuses help.

tw: graphic descriptions of a depressive episode, self harm (burning), suicidal thoughts, and suicidal intent (but not attempt). unhealthy coping mechanisms, alcohol abuse, mentioned alcoholism, undiagnosed mental illness, miscommunications on shared trauma, ask to tag if i missed any.

There are a number of places that are simply uncomfortable to sleep. Barely sitting up and using the chairs provided by the previous tenants as a pillow is certainly one of them. It takes Remus a moment to identify what woke him up as there's another round of knocking on his door and he doesn’t want to respond. It’s bright out,the sun is blocked from his figure by the curtains covering most of the windows. He hears Roman’s muffled voice as the locked doorknob jiggles, “See? I told you he’s not here, Virge. There’s nothing to be worried about, if he doesn’t show up by tomorrow I’ll go look for him. You know how he is”.

Their footsteps move away and Virgil speaks, “Can you text him? I’m just worried, Thomas said that-” his voice fades as they enter the kitchen.

Remus can barely pick himself off the floor before his phone lit up with a notification.

the shittier twin: You good? LMK when you’re coming home, Virgil is lowkey freaking out (received: 10:14)

He stares at the words willing his brain to focus as he decides, maybe he should reply.

He sends a photo of a fat pigeon he took outside a club him and D got kicked out of a few weeks ago. It would be clear that the picture was taken at a different time, but does get message of ��I’m alive’ across. Which is about as much as Remus is willing to communicate to people that haven’t even tried to contact him before now. How sad is it that his twin brother didn’t even check on him until six days later. Or maybe he should be asking if it’s sad that after four days Roman still hasn’t noticed that he’s home, or that it took Roman six to even ask? Remus spends all this time in the theatre and in the arts studio, and still Roman was the only one to ask, though at the request of someone who wants to get mad at him. He considers if maybe that he is a bad person, and that isn’t something he normally would care about, but if he weren’t then people might have checked on him. He usually hangs out with D almost everyday and he swears he’s never been gone more than maybe four days. But no one else seems concerned at all.

He considers reasons why this might be and gets stuck on Roman’s comment that he hasn’t been gone that long, and the implications then of him being gone longer. Things that don’t really make sense, but he knows losing your train of thought and getting distracted is a part of ADHD, but maybe, this is much more concerning. How does he know that he’s only ever been gone so long, maybe those lapses are more than a few minutes of zoning out. Which leads to, does Remus know who he is during these lapses? The contrast between the two prince twins have always been clear in their behaviour, Roman who follows every word their parents whisper in his ear. The boy grew up to be an actor after years of who takes any command without thought at that chance to be on top, and revelled in praise. It’s the cowards way of survival, are you really living if you’re not you? He knows Roman wasn’t quite loving that, but he still complied. Remus has always known exactly who he is and who he always will be. But the uncertainty of who he is in those spaces that seem to be taking up more and more space, maybe he;s been following someones script too?

He’s constantly changing his mind and forgetting where he is, are his feelings his? If everything the thought he knew about himself is slipping through his fingers like sand in an hourglass than how does he make it stop?

—

Virgil slides into the recently empty chair next to Roman the second Patton gets up to ask the waitress for another round of coffee, he steals one of Roman’s sausages and speaks, “By the way, I’m catching a ride to your place with you and D”.

Roman squawks at the sausage thief, “Why? I already told you Remus isn’t home!”

Virgil rolls his eyes, “Yeah I know, just humour me. I went to talk to Joan before we left and Thomas said Remus texted to apologize for missing practice, he’s never done that before! I just wanna come check, you can make fun of me later or whatever.”

“Fine, whatever, I know you’d just show up anyway. I don’t think him texting Thomas means anything though, even if it is weird.”

“Well we can agree to disagree then.”

—

The entry to the apartment the Prince twins share with D was just as full of banter as expected. D and Roman irritating Virgil without effort but Virgil matching that with his own comebacks and determination to check on Remus. “Alright, Emo Knightmare, let’s go knock on his cave door so I can know you again, that he isn’t home” Roman drops his bag next to the couch and heads down the shared hallway of D, Remus, and the storage closet. D walks past him with comments of a essay due tomorrow and disappears. Roman walks down and knocks on the door sternly once maintaining eye contact with Virgil knowing there will not be a response. Virgil follows him and he knocks again after a moment and jiggles the knocked door handle. “See? I told you he’s not here, Virge. There’s nothing to be worried about, if he doesn’t show up by tomorrow I’ll go look for him. You know how he is.” Roman turns and leads them back out into the living room towards the kitchen.

Virgil pauses for a moment watching the door before he follows, “Can you text him? I’m just worried, Thomas said that he actually texted to apologize for not showing up today. You know when Remus is out he never remembers to charge his phone, it just seems weird.”

Roman exhales and wordlessly pulls out his phone shooting off a text to his twin before pulling some leftovers out of the fridge to offer to Virgil despite the fact they had eaten not long ago. Virgil accepts and he puts it on two plates for the microwave. Roman’s phone vibrates on the counter with a text. The emo leans over to read and snorts, “Wait, is Remus’s name actually ‘the shittier twin’ in your phone? He just send a picture of what appears to be an obese pigeon, that doesn’t answer my question at all!”

Roman shrugs, “Of course it is, and yeah that sounds about right, it’s like he’s trying to communicate through hieroglyphics, he’s just telling us he’s fine.”

Virgil’s dark eyes examine Roman’s face for any reflection that he’s just trying to make him stop bothering him with his concern, but when he sees nothing he drops his defensiveness, “Yeah, okay, he’s your brother, he’s kind of like a cat I guess. He always comes home right?”

The microwave beeps and Roman slides the extra plate in front of Virgil, “Exactly, he’s just like this, I’ll text you when he comes back. You don’t need to worry about it, Virge.”

Virgil shoots him a small smile before taking his plate to the couch closely followed by the oldest Prince twin as they settle down with Netflix until they need to leave for their respective classes.

—

Roman blearily wipes his eyes as he wakes up in his dark room and rolls over to check the time. 2:34am wake up and bathroom break time. He briefly considers just rolling over and waiting four or five hours until he needs to get up for class, but decides there’s just a higher chance of getting a restless sleep the rest of the night. The hockey captain rolls out of bed standing in his room shirtless and only wearing a random pair of soft sleep pants and stumbles out of his room, crossing the living room and entry way he’s about to try the handle of the dark bathroom door when it opens to reveal a tall dark figure.

Roman jumps back with an admittedly embarrassing squawk before recognizing the dark figure to be a freshly showered, exhausted, and almost weak looking Remus. The two stood in silence for a moment, Remus not even reacting to the sight of his brother. Roman awkwardly laughed for a moment, “Holy shit, Remus! I didn't even realize you were home.”

Remus stares emptily, moving to walk away without replying, Roman stops him with a hand on his shoulder, “Are you like, uh, okay? You kind of look like shit”

That was clearly the wrong thing to say as suddenly Remus’s face hardens into a snarl, “Oh fuck you, Roman.” His voice cracks halfway through but it doesn’t do anything to diminish the venom in his voice, “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Christ! If you’re going to be an asshole then nevermind, I just wanted to check up on you. You know, like a concerned brother just might do?” Roman fires back suddenly feeling defensive. The tone of voice Remus uses almost sounds scared to him but he doesn’t have the energy to pry at Remus in the hallway less than 6 feet from D’s door at 2:30am.

“You don’t get to play any kind of concerned brother role right now! You don’t just get to decide to be concerned one day, it’s all about appearances with you, I dont fuck with that!” Remus’s voice raises as he gets more and more riled up, his voice sounds like shit as if he hasn’t used it in days, “Tell me when you think I got home, Princey, huh? You don't know shit about me and it’s time you stopped asking like you do.” He steps towards Roman edging back down the hallway to the living room.

“Why am I supposed to know when you got home?” Roman fires back, “You’re an adult! You’ve taken care of yourself fine for years, I’m not your parent I don’t need to know where you are twenty-four-fucking-seven!”

Vaguely, Roman hears D’s bedroom door open and feels brief regret that was smashed by Remus shoving him backwards. “You don’t need to know! But, did you ever think to wonder? Did you ever once care enough to ask? No! I don’t remember ever being gone more than three or four days.”

Roman recoils for a second in confusion but counters standing his ground, “What does that fucking mean? You own a calendar, a phone, you should know your average in the last year has been like five to seven days, you can’t blame me that you decide to go on a bender every 6 months or less. Can’t you ever grow up?”

“It means I don’t know where I was for two to four of those days at least! You self absorbed prick! Fuck!” Remus crumples for a second, his facial expression looks so, lost. He violently grabs and tugs on his still damp hair. He stands back up face guarded once again. “I know I never go out without a plan, I have paid some fucking terrible prices for that that you never need to know about. But, you’re telling me that I was out there and I don’t remember it? And no one thought to mention anything to me? And you’re asking if I’m ‘okay’? Fuck that, fuck you. I’m going back to my room, and ideally I’ll fucking rot and die before I have to look at you again,” Remus seethes before turning and slamming his door without waiting for a response.

Roman sags at his brothers exiting remarks, making tentative eye contact with D who waits in the dark hallway. “I don’t know what to do,” Roman says quietly.

D moves towards him moving them to the couch offering a comforting touch to the remaining twin, “Roman, I cannot tell you that I have any idea about what just happened. But, it seems like he just wants you to be there for him, in his own weird displays of affection he does love you and I think maybe he’s scared sometimes that you don’t care for him, and he lashes out. But right now, you need to go back to sleep so you can go to your boring nine am lecture, and I’ll try to spend time with him tomorrow. Sound good?”

Roman examines D, letting himself feel vulnerable for a moment but trusts that D knows what to do. He’s known the twins since high school, if anyone knew it would be him. “Thank you, D” Roman whispers, leaning into the little affection for a moment before he stands up and moves them back down the hallway.

Roman goes to the bathroom as originally planned but thinks about the things his younger brother had said. How much is he missing? What does it mean for Remus to simply not remember days at a time? Is it because of drinking too much or something else?

As Roman tucks himself back into bed, preparing himself for the restless sleep he had been trying to avoid. His mind wanders, and he can’t help but think that maybe he should be questioning blood stains on Remus’s carpet a little more.

#sanders sides angst #sanders sides #remus sanders #hockey au #university au #creativitwins #roman sanders #virgil sanders #remus prince #roman prince #virgil fosc #bipolar disorder

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dreamypastel · 4 years ago

Text

UPDATE!!

So, some of youve seen many, many art fight attacks ive created for the past month. 100+ attacks within 30 days + commissions is a lot for me. I wanted to announce some changes that will happen for now on.

Im getting on vacation for art so for people who are in my discord server, there will not be any giveaways (main one is still continuing), free ocs, random art, art trades, art requests, and so on for now on. These changes may change however if Im itching to draw something but other than that, I need a break.

Commissions will continue, Asking my OCs will still be responded to art drawn for that ask.

I need to slow down on the art, I worked so hard this year I just want to get better but Im so tired of drawing nearly 5 art pieces per day for a month. Im tired.

My 21th birthday is next month (9/20) and Im excited to finally be a full adult. I want to do as much as i can to experience the world as in getting a job, volunteering, etc. Im not much of a “gamer” as you can say but I want to play games too whenever i have the chance.

Forgive me however for this, This is only a TEMPORARY change! More will come along with the Stars Blessing comics too! I have big plans for chapter 2! However, it will be a lot of work to get into it so posting each page may take longer than normal, for my own sake. I takes so long doing a page so I need as much time as I need!

However, Will draw every now and then, I hope you guys like Chaos, Shes going to be part of a slice of life short comics sometime soon too, I using that time to do stuff I enjoy before getting back to work.

I do want to announce that Im nearing to 500 Follows on Tumblr and I surpassed 200 Watchers on DA, A future art giveaway will happen on DA so be sure to watch me on DA so you dont miss future Giveaways!

That is all for now, Thank you for using your time to read this! Have a good day!

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har-rison-s · 5 years ago

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the fires are waiting for me

request: Hi! Can you write something about being Tony's 21 y/o son and also an avenger??

A/N: This is one hell of a request. I hope I did the anon justice, my readers justice, and everyone else who reads marvel works here justice. I've never written anything like this before, not completely from a male's perspective. Wow, I can't wait and I'm just about to do it. I'm excited. I hope you don't mind that I didn't name him Y/N, but gave him a name instead. Hope you enjoy this. I was about to put a gif in that makes me HYPED AF BITCH it's from endgame when they're running to battle ashfbshdbsd but I decided against it cause it dont really fit smhsh. Happy reading!

main masterlist

mcu masterlist

warnings: none really

His digital watch beeps and he bolts up from his bed. He was reading the history book, scanning the topic of Ancient Greece sculptures and art in general. Until, apparently, a new mission appeared and he is needed on the scene in suit and armor.

August stands up from his oh so very comfy bed and makes the few steps over to his wardrobe. His college dorm isn't much in the space, but, with having lived in a huge mansion all his childhood, August was tired of big, unscannable places. He was happy that he got away from the big house, living in a small, two room apartment, and alone. He's going to regular college like a regular teen, breaking out of his usual scene.

The truth is, he is Iron Man's son. Well, Tony Stark's. And that's not always a title he can live up to. There are still lots of fans at college and on the street, basically everywhere he goes. Two to five times a day he gets an encounter like that. Yes, his dad is a lot less approachable than him, yes, he chose to live in a regular setting, like a normal person. But sometimes he just grows tired of it.

August Stark carries the charisma of his father, the attractiveness, and the intelligence. But his charisma is hidden, his physical attractiveness is inacknowledged by himself and he chose to put his intelligence in something other than electrical engineering, science and mathematics. Sure, he loves all those topics and sometimes helps dad out, but he wants to be a historian and an art's major. Dad wasn't always on board, but he supports his son, anyways, as any father would.

“...gust, do you copy? This is an urgent situation, we need you here as quick as you can.” He hears the captain's voice in his ear once he puts his com into his ear. The young man sighs.

“Don't get clingy now, Cap,” he responds, already getting his suit ready to use, “I know you miss me.” August finishes and steps into the suit he and his dad made together just before he started high school. He wasn't an official Avenger then, he was too young—said by everyone—, but it was a summer gift from Tony. The suit's got a lot of improvements over the years, the biggest ones when he became an Avenger. Those were impressive times.

Every Avenger was for August staying in school and not letting the avenging get in the way of learning and, most importantly, homework. He was calm about it, but still stubborn. Tony believed he could really make a difference in the world, and maybe the best Avenger. August wasn't as reckless as his old man, he wasn't that much of a hothead.

That's what Tony admired about his son. Perhaps he got the characteristic from his mother. But it gives Tony a sense of calm. August knows what he's doing, from the bottom of his mind and heart, so there's no way he'd go head first into a suicide mission. No, he'd go through with an intelligent, hundred percent sure plan that is structured to the bone and do everything perfectly.

You could say he wasn't the hero type—ironic, right?—August was a good, humble man. A young man, for now. Though his list of missions and minor world-savings makes him a certain man. As much as he'd wished to be a regular teen, just like everyone else, August wasn't. His father always knew he'd never be. That made him resentful, but at least he'd share the most part of his life with his son.

“So what are we doing?” August asks, flying over the location mentioned in the mission message. His white metal suit shines in the light of the setting sun (god, is this Shakespeare speaking?), giving the city a sort of projected light.

It's an empty, seemingly abandoned building - or so it seems from up above - that he's looking at. One of the many abandoned buildings in New York city. The fault could be the alien attack back in 2012, or it could just be abandoned. It's what helps August to sleep better at night, mostly.

“Glad you made it, Gus.” August hears his dad in his ear and looks to his left. He's flying just as high as Gus, facing him. His red suit very recognisable even from the street below. Gus grins.

“Hey, dad.” He responds. The boy is happy to see his father. He always is, even if he saw him two days ago at dinner they had together.

“Hope there's no exam tomorrow, Gus,” Natasha speaks into the comms. Many of the team laugh warmly, including August, “cause we can't predict how long this will take.”

Just as Gus wanted to repeat his earlier question, Captain Rogers speaks into all their ears. “We're doing a scan of the building because we've seen photos of groups entering the building.” He tells August more than everyone else. Everybody knows the drill already. Gus was the last to join.

“Hydra agents?” Gus questions, turning his head to his dad. He nods.

“Hopefully.” Rogers says. “Split up in twos, scan the building and search for evidence that could prove that it's a base.”

“And if someone's there?” Gus asks.

“Fight them.” Steve replies and Gus can hear the nonchalant shrug the Captain did after speaking. Gus grins.

“Is this better than your school work, young Stark?” Thor asks once he, Gus and Tony have landed on the building's rooftop.

“We're about to find out. Greek mythology's my favourite subject.” Gus says.

“Any, uh, any chance you'll be learning Norse mythology?” Thor asks and Gus exchanges a look with Tony. “Cause I can tell you a lot more than those silly books can.” Gus grins. The god does only show off.

“Hey, grandmas, it's time to go.” Says Clint. Gus assumes he's already in the building, examining every inch of it. “You'll talk later about books.”

“I'll give you a call, Thor.” Gus responds to Thor's suggestion and the god smiles wide, nodding. He throws his hammer up and down in his hand and jumps off the building's roof, landing perfectly well. Tony and Gus lift off and they agree on Gus going in with Thor.

Gus loves missions. He loves spending time with his dad, especially when they're working together. Being in a lab together - yeah, that's okay. But flying over cities, fighting bad guys and aliens together, running to the rescue. Makes Gus feel like he makes a difference in the world.

A/N: Yeah, I know this is short. But I like it anyway. Hope you did too.

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istheresomebodywhocanimagine · 6 years ago

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Well... All Right

@strawberryfields-forever said: Hello my love, I saw the Beatles post, and I was wondering if I could request a John Lennon imagine? Maybe where the reader and him are out on their first date of sorts and she surprises him with how wild and rebellious she is, cause she doesn’t seem like that normally. Or just something cute and fluffy! Ilyxxxx

(a/n: i didn’t know how many people like queen AND the beatles so if ur on my reg taglist and see this, let me know if you’d like to be tagged in beatles imagines!! i don’t want to clog ur mentions with things u dont want hehe. speaking of clogs i hope brian may has a good night anyways here u go!!! fluffy misbehaving john lennon for ur viewing pleasure)

You hadn’t struck John as the type to say yes to dates with men you hardly knew, especially with such an unruly character like himself. So when he was fooling around in your painting class and started flirting harmlessly with you, he expected nothing out of it. You were usually quiet, kept to yourself, turned in your work on time, and asked no questions. Not exactly the kind of girl that would be climbing out of Liverpool’s waterfront, drenched and tipsy and laughing deliriously as she clutched onto John’s hat, which was also beyond soaked, while a cop yelled at you from afar

But here you were, drenched, tipsy, and clutching onto his hat. And he’d never questioned his personal judgement so much, a queer, amused smile coming to his face as he held out a hand to help you up the ladder.

It had started out innocently enough. The professor had brought in another nude model for you all to paint over the course of the afternoon, and you couldn’t help but smile a bit at the way John groaned loud enough for the class to hear. After the hell he’d raised with the female model last month when he managed to show up for one class, you couldn’t imagine what he had in mind for the male model that now stood before you.

“This is the last time I actually show up for class, I swear,” he mumbled, digging through his bag to pull out his paints as you feigned apathy, already mixing your skin tone for the man that laid on the table in the center of the room. But John had said that many times before – he’d always show up, take the seat nearest you, find out what was happening for the day, and swear that he’d never show face again. And then you’d see him eventually, maybe within days, maybe within weeks.

You tried to focus on the man before you, staring intently at the skin on his cheeks and noting that there was some discoloration, possibly rosacea, so you scraped some of your skin tone off to the side and added just a tick of red, mixing it in. John was watching you out of the corner of his eye, clearly not interested in all at painting what he was supposed to paint as his eyes wandered, the professor getting more irritated by the minute as his canvas remained blank.

“Mr. Lennon, you seem to be coming along well,” the professor remarked on his next round, tapping a bony finger to the empty canvas and sending him a sarcastic smile. John scoffed, looking over in your direction and rolling his eyes as if to say ‘This guy.’ Then, his ever-expressive face was blessed by a wide smile, and he gave the professor a thumbs up paired with a goofy, sweet grin, making you suppress a laugh as you tried to focus on the natural curve of the man’s thighs. The professor eyed you for a moment, then narrowed his eyes as he looked back to John – and with that, he was gone, off to his next victim.

“Geez, wonder if he’s ever heard of breath mints,” John mumbled, and that got a snicker out of you before you quickly pressed the back of your hand to your mouth, barely holding back a grin. Now he was actually looking at you, an ever-present mischievous grin on his face making a blush spread across yours as you sat your paintbrush down in your cup of water. “That was a cute little laugh. Do it again.”

“John,” you admonished softly, nodding towards the male model and stifling another laugh as you bit your lower lip. He only shrugged, appearing indifferent towards the subject at hand when he had you right there to bother. “We’re both going to get poor marks if you start bugging me.”

“You say bugging, I say making conversation. Who will ever win?” he countered, and he noticed that the professor had started to lecture, but didn’t really care much as he continued. “I never caught your name, what is it?”

Looking between him and the professor a bit nervously, you returned your eyes to your painting as you held back a grin, still chewing on your lower lip. “Y/N.”

“Y/N. Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he remarked, flashing you a dazzling smile.

He was a bit of a charming fellow in terms of looks, if not a bit odd for the school scene. He always came in with the most unruly, fluffy hair, shorter on the sides than it was on top, and he wore outfits that stood out among the rest of your peers. While they opted for loose sweaters and blocky trousers that hid any sort of curve whatsoever, John dressed in longer blazers, tight jeans, form-fitting trousers, and the likes, sticking out like a sore thumb. And he was attractive, you had to admit. He was young, just freshly 18, and had the teddy boy look down to an art – the swagger, the hair, the confident smile, the glint in his eyes that was so rebellious, and yet not threatening to you at all. His charming, boyish looks and mussy golden-brown hair were enough to send anyone with eyes crazy, especially in such a strict institute.

“Thank you,” you murmured in response, smiling a bit as you picked up your paintbrush, then dipped it in the paint and ran it along the curve of the painted man’s side. The paint thinly spread out and started breaking up when the product ran out near the end of your swipe. “You always hit on your classmates like this?”

“Nah, just the really cute ones.”

“Mr. Lennon! Something important you’re discussing with Miss Y/N, I presume?” Your professor’s mention of your name set all of your nerve endings on fire and you clammed up, staring straight at your painting and wishing that you could melt into a puddle of nothingness at this exact moment.

But John was unashamed and unafraid, resting his hands on his knees as he sat up on his stool a bit, peeking around the canvas at where the professor was across the room. “Just making conversation, sir. Hard to flirt with all this noise in the background.” He really did not give a shit about this class, did he? You pressed your lips into a thin line as you tried not to blush even more at the fact that John was flirting with you and now the entire class was aware.

The professor looked very much annoyed, but just stared for a moment before continuing his tangent about getting the shading correct, and John gave you a devilish smile when you glanced over at him to shoot daggers at him. “You’re going to get us suspended, you cheeky bastard.”

“Oh, you’re so tame. I like that,” he laughed, starting to dump out some paint that didn’t even closely resemble any of the skin tones on the man before you. He stood, brushing his tight drainpipe trousers off and stretching his legs out so the trousers fell back over the white socks that peeked out of his suede creepers. And then he walked up to the model, crouching down directly in front of his face as you watched, entranced by this enigmatic, lively character that seemed to be studying the model’s … face?

When he came back, you raised an eyebrow in question, resituating yourself on your stool a bit so you could cross your legs. “What was that all about?”

“Give me a date with you and I’ll tell you.” The look in his eyes was challenging, daring you to say yes, although a part of him knew it would probably never happen. You were a straight-A student, and going out with the black-sheep of this college would definitely screw that image right up. So when you responded, a genuine look of shock overtook his features.

“Alright. When and where?”

So you’d decided to meet John the next night outside of a little restaurant in the bohemian district, grab a bite to eat before going out for a few drinks, then ‘see where the night took you,’ according to him. He showed up dressed in his usual tight black trousers, brown suede creepers, and a black shirt layered with a forest green jacket. It was particularly windy, so he’d opted to bring a hat, but it was twirling around on his finger when you saw him, an absentminded time-passer that slowed to a stop when he finally spotted you.

You weren’t in your usual blocky sweater and longer skirt. Now, a short-sleeve sweater of white accentuated all your curves right down to your waist, where the sweater met a relatively formfitting black pencil skirt that didn’t even dare to pass your knees, exposing black tights that slimmed your legs even more. The small tears in the tights led right down to the red heels you’d chosen for yourself, drawing so much attention from older generations as you passed on the sidewalk that you thought they’d drop dead from shock right there. This was rebellion in 1950’s Liverpool. Showcasing your body, accentuating your legs? Scandalous.

Scandalous, and yet you knew John loved it as an appreciative, yet puzzled smile crept onto his face. His jaw was still slightly slack, shocked from the contrast, but he reached out and gave you a polite kiss on the cheek when you finally made it to him, which you reciprocated. And then he offered his arm, walking into the restaurant with you side-by-side.

Conversation remained light during the meal, John footing the bill when it was time to pay and helping you out of your seat when it was time to go to the pub. When you both had a few drinks in you, that’s when things really began to start flowing.

“So what happened to the whole studious library girl look you have going on every day?” he asked, hand firmly wrapped around the mug of beer in front of him on the bar. You grinned fully, not hiding the smile you usually tried to repress in class, and John quirked an eyebrow slightly, noting how astonishingly mischievous the look in your eyes was.

“Every day? I haven’t seen you show up to class consecutively since the beginning of this semester. And here you talk as if you know what I look like every day,” you teased, tracing your finger around the rim of your own beer, John laughing and raising his hands in surrender.

“Okay, you got me. I may or may not skip class a bit. I’m the antichrist, I know. But you didn’t answer my question?” he prodded, leaning forward and resting his elbow on the bar, propping up his head.

“It’s a nice college, John. I’d like to get my degree eventually, but can you imagine what the professors would say if I showed up in what I usually wear?”

“Is this what you usually wear?” he questioned, no hint of malice or teasing in his voice. He was just genuinely curious, leaning forward and hanging on to your every word. He’d never seen someone flip a switch like this, and the ease with which you did it was astounding. It was like he was meeting you all over again, and it fascinated him.

“Yes,” you giggled, taking another drink of your beer before sitting it down and hopping off the stool, holding out a hand. “Any song requests? I’m headed over to the jukebox, the songs are awful right now.

He had to admit, the songs were not the greatest, so he dropped some money into your hand and told you to play whatever you liked before watching you easily slip through the crowd, taking a moment to pick a few songs before returning. And then the sound of Buddy Holly started softly playing as you climbed back onto your stool, crossing a leg and taking another drink of your beer.

John raised an eyebrow, again surprised that you listened to Buddy Holly. Buddy had passed away earlier this year, and you saw quite a few faces sober up, but it was such a good song that people were soon singing along to it. Others, not so much. The rock and roll trend still wasn’t quite a phenomena, and the genre was clearly divisive, but you very much enjoyed the rock and roll sound of Holly, tapping your fingers on the table to the beat and smiling at certain parts of the song.

“You like this kind of music?” John questioned, and you nodded, propping your head up on your hand as your elbow rested on the bar.

“’f course. Shame about what happened to him, really thought he was the best of the best.” John leaned back a bit, nodding slowly and grinning as he listened to you continue on about your preference for rock and roll. A girl talking so openly about such a damning subject was attractive to him, and he found his pulse speeding up when you’d finished talking, asking him what kind of music he liked.

“Same music, really. I actually play in a band, if you’re interested. Well, sort of,” he retracted, pulling a goofy face before pursing his lips and continuing. “We’re just three guys with too many guitars and not enough drums.”

“Sounds like you’re in quite a dilemma,” you observed, finishing off your beer at the same time that he finished off his. The bartender refilled them when he passed by a moment later, John paying and smiling politely at the bartender before they were off again. His focus returned to you, and he took a moment to remember where you were in the conversation as you sipped some of the foam off the top of your lager. When you took quite a big drink of the beer to chase that sip, John raised an eyebrow curiously.

“We are in quite a dilemma. But it looks like you’re going to be in quite a dilemma soon if you keep out-drinking me.” Giggling, you shook your head and took another drink, then propped your head up on your hand and gave him a challenging look.

“If you really want to see me outdrink you, you’d do shots with me.”

“Shots?” he laughed incredulously, his hand still wrapped around the handle of the beer mug. “I take back calling you tame yesterday. Don’t we technically have class tomorrow?”

“At noon, plenty of time to recover. And since when have you ever cared about class? Half of the school has wagers on when you’re going to be expelled, Lennon,” you retorted, raising an eyebrow and giving him a devilishly sweet smile, one that let on to the idea that maybe you were far more feisty than even he knew. “Three shots. That’s all.” Your hand shot out, daring him to take it and accept.

“Three shots?” he considered, mulling over it for a second before he sighed overdramatically and took your hand, shaking it. “You’re a funny girl. A surprise up your sleeve at every turn.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” you asked, flagging down the bartender as you kept your gaze on John expectantly, biting your lower lip to hold back a big grin.

A small smirk toyed at John’s lips as he scanned your face for a second, then shrugged. “We’ll see.”

It was most definitely not a bad thing. You both took the shots, no chaser for you and John looking at you in a disgusted sort of impressed that made you laugh. And when you’d begun to get flushed and overheated from all the alcohol in your system, you leaned on John and requested a walk by the waterfront.

Now here you were, holding on to John’s shoulder as you laughed at another corny joke he’d told in his slurred speech, being just as tipsy as you. His arm was wrapped around your waist, the both of you supporting each other terrible as you teetered and tottered down the sidewalk next to the water, gusts of wind blowing in and stinging your cheeks a deeper red than they already were from a combo of the alcohol and John’s flirting. The sun was getting low, shrouding you both in a semi-darkness that seemed to bring an exclusivity to the pair of you as you strolled down the waterfront.

“This wind is going t’be the death of my hair, I swear,” you complained, trying to push it out of your face to no avail and laughing at yourself when you failed miserably. “I give up. I’m just goin’ to look like a wooly mammoth forever.”

“Aw, I think it’s kind of cute,” he teased gently, squeezing your side, and then he reached up to move his cap from his head to yours, pulling it down over your eyes a bit. “There, is that better?”

“John, I can’t see!” you squealed, John laughing and pulling the cap down over your eyes more as you tried in vain to fight his efforts. “You’re such an arse! Can’t believe I agreed to come on a date with you, you little bastard!”

“Oh, you’re just spouting nonsense now!” he chuckled, letting go of the brim anyways and giving you a mischievous grin when you finally managed to pull the cap up from your eyes. Trying to resituate your hair, you shot him a playfully nasty look before stopping where you were, John’s arm slipping off of your waist for a moment as he slid his hands into his pockets. You used the rail behind you for support, your vision a bit hazy as you pulled your hair up into a ponytail with the hair tie that had been in your pocket, John smiling at the new look and making you blush a bit more. “Are my eyes deceiving me or did you just blush?”

“Definitely your eyes,” you countered, although there wasn’t even a trace of truth in your voice as you blushed even more, John taking the opportunity to lean his side against the rail next to you, taking one hand out of his pocket to lift up a strand of hair you’d forgotten and tuck it into the cap.

It was probably the alcohol, but as you looked up into John’s warm brown eyes, you’d never wanted to kiss someone so bad in your life. His fluffy hair was flying wildly in the wind, making him look even more tousled and adorable than he usually did anyways, and his lips were slightly chapped, but the pout of his lower lip made you graze your teeth over your own, contemplating for a moment. And he was doing the same, suddenly quiet as a mouse as his eyes ran over your own plump, tempting lips before looking back up to meet your slightly glazed eyes.

A mutual exchange must have taken place, but you couldn’t have registered it even if you tried, because the next moment, John was leaning down to kiss you, taking your face in one hand and smiling against your lips when you reciprocated, making a slightly surprised noise. The two of you moved your lips in sync for a minute or two, conveniently forgetting the hat on your head until John went to tilt his head the other way and managed to knock it right into the water.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered as he broke away from the kiss, both of you peering over the railing at the hat that was just lapping up against the concrete barrier below. Laughing a bit, you glanced at John, who had a mournful look on his face. “My favorite hat, too.”

“I’ve got it,” you shrugged, using the railing to lean on shakily as you began to yank off your heels, John looking at you like you were mad. “What? You said it’s your favorite, I don’t personally want to be the reason that John Lennon is without his favorite hat. I’d imagine you’d paint a memorial photo of it in class just to spite me. It’s not like you ever paint the actual subject anyways.”

“Have you gone mental?” he laughed, taking your heels from you and following as you started over to the ladder nearby, nothing but an open padlock to stop you from opening the gate. “It’s probably bloody cold in that water. You’ll freeze.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” you teased, giving him a gentle nudge before you swung open the gate, starting to climb down to his amazement. The hat wasn’t far from the ladder, but just far enough that you had to get in. When you did get into the water, you cursed lightly at how cold it was despite the fact that you were drunk, John laughing at your language as you swam over to the hat, snatching it up and holding it up in victory.

“You’re crazy!” he called out over the whistling of the wind, making you smile widely as you started to swim back over to the ladder. Grabbing onto the bottom rung, you were starting to pull yourself up when you heard someone down the waterfront start shouting. Both of you looked in the same direction, spotting a cop that was shaking a fist at you and screaming. You couldn’t make out what he was saying, but you assumed it wasn’t nice, and John burst out laughing at the same time as you, holding out a hand and urging you to hurry. “You’re going to get us both arrested!” he yelled, grinning as you laughed deliriously at the angry old cop who was cursing you out.

Scrambling up the ladder while you cackled, John hoisted you to your feet and didn’t waste a moment in taking off running with you, your hands clasped together tightly as you giggled breathlessly and made an escape down the backstreets towards your dorms. You were freezing by the time you’d managed to make it to your dorm, which was empty when you entered, gasping for air in between hysterical laughing bouts. John slumped back against your door and held his hand to his chest while you grabbed a towel, trying to dry yourself the rest of the way off and catch your breath.

“Here you are,” you giggled breathlessly, tossing him his cap and making him go into another round of laughter as it hit his chest, falling to the floor. “Don’t say I never did anything for you!”

“My god, Y/N, you’re mad,” he gasped, his smile ear to ear as he laughed at the state of you, soaked to the bone and shivering as you searched for dry clothes. When you found them, he covered his eyes graciously and just chuckled, finally catching his breath while he waited patiently for you to change. “I thought we were goners, for sure.”

“You have little faith,” you teased, changing into some pajama pants and a loose shirt before pulling your hair out of the ponytail. “You can open your eyes now, Lennon.”

“I don’t know if I like you calling me Lennon,” he remarked, uncovering his eyes and crawling to his feet after sitting your heels and the hat on the floor. “Reminds me so much of the professor in painting.”

“Would you prefer Johnny Boy?” you asked playfully, helping him out of his jacket and laying it over your arm as he turned to face you, pursing his lips.

“Not exactly.” But he let the subject drop as he tucked some of your still-damp hair behind your ear, grinning softly. “I quite liked it in the soggy ponytail, wild girl.”

“Wild girl?” you asked, briefly interrupted when he leaned in for a quick kiss. You kissed back, pouting a bit when he pulled away so soon, but continued your observation anyways. “I can’t tell if that’s an insult or a compliment.”

He grinned even wider, keeping his hand resting on the nape of your neck while taking his jacket from your arm and dropping it to the floor near his hat. “Definitely a compliment.”

let me know if you’d like to be on the taglist for my beatles imagines in the future! REQUESTS CLOSED!

#john lennon #john lennon imagine #john lennon x reader #the beatles #the beatles imagine #john lennon fic #the beatles fic

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negasonicimagines · 6 years ago

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Hello / Wonderwall

good fucking night I haven’t posted in like a bajillion years I’m so sorry jdklfldkfjs “anyways here’s wonderwall” (lol anyone remember that meme) anyways this is inspired by two things

1) this request: i just listened to adele and my heart is shattered and my angsty soul loves it so could i ask you to write ellie x reader where they're not dating but reader has a crush on ellie and she finds out but neither of them want to be in a relationship because 'feeling things sucks and i dont wanna' something like that because they're both really closed off tough people. and they love eachother and dont want to and its complicated and ugh ANGSTY. im really sorry i hope you're having a great day!!😀💞💞 [btw sorry if i didn’t fill this properly i did my best but my writers’ block is literally THE WORST and has been for a really long time(duh)]

2) This really cool mashup of Adele’s “Hello” and everyone’s favorite Oasis song, “Wonderwall.” It fucking slaps and TOTALLY suits this imagine. If there’s any way you could listen to it and read this at the same time, I recommend it. It’s what I listening to when I was writing it (that and Adele’s “Chasing Pavements.”)

Anyways, enjoy! Who knows when the next one’ll be out, amiright?

Ellie didn’t like love. Even platonic or familial love was shrugged off. It just… Wasn’t her thing. It was too dangerous for mutants, the world. Forget emotions.

You’re new here, at the school. Wade’s forced you to quit your previous line of work, saying that “you’re too damn young to be killin’ people for a living!” You’d rolled your eyes, but agreed that a break would be nice. So, now, you’re being shown around by a charmingly bitchy girl that’s around your age, maybe a smidge older.

“This is the art room, and, um, that about covers it. So, uh, just go away now.”

“Are you not going to show me where my room is?” You ask, letting your eyebrows arch skeptically.

“And how would I know where your room is?” She inquires in response. Where she was the rude kind of standoffish, you were the polite, distant type.

“It’s the same as yours, Negasonic,” you carefully inform her, gauging her reaction.

“It’s- It’s what?”

“Did no one tell you?” you wonder. “That’s weird.”

“Very. Whatever, come on. At least you’re not extra annoying,” she sighs, and you follow her down to the dorms, your suitcase rolling behind you.

“Thanks,” you chuckle a little, and she twitches, her eyes flickering to yours for a moment. The ghost of a smile phases across her lips, disappearing just as subtly as it appeared.

“Alright, now…” She looks at her phone. “Yeah, now, it’s time for training. Depending on your mentor, you’ll have different times. Who’s your mentor?”

“Oh, uh, Emma Frost?” You tell her looking at your schedule.

“You’ll be with me, then. Training with me. Piotr and Ms. Frost’s students train together, I guess because they both have weird skin. Emma’s is temporary, but still. Let’s move.”

“Okay,” you respond, walking with her to the gym.

“If you need any sort of protective gear, it’ll be in the closet by the entrance.”

“I think I’ll be alright,” you say, taking what she said more as a challenge than a helpful tip. She scoffs, rolling her eyes.

But when you catch a glimpse of the light smirk she’s wearing, electricity sparks through you. (Not literally, don’t worry. Your mutation is different and not embarrassing in that way.)

Two weeks later, you and Ellie are fast friends...And maybe more.

“Gaga okay?” she asks.

“Duh!” you respond, scrolling through your twitter feed. “So, whose stans are we trolling tonight?”

“What’s your mutation, anyway? You never did say.”

“Ah, it’s lame,” you brush her off.

“Wade doesn’t think it’s lame… But that’s not really saying much, is it? Damn, sorry,” Ellie chuckles. She smiles more around you than anyone else, but you’re not sure why. Not yet.

“I just… People tend to think less of me when they hear. It’s a bit destructive.”

“You did not just say that to me,” Ellie delivers a surprisingly good rebuttal.

“Well, uh… Basically, by coming into direct contact with it through touch, I can temporarily gain access to their abilities and sometimes even their knowledge. If I consume it, it lasts longer or can even be permanent. Kinda perfect for a kill-for-hire. Not so much for a normal high school girl, though,” you admit shyly. Ellie’s dead silent.

You look to your crush, nervously, and she looks awe-struck.

“That’s so fucking cool. I wish I could become stronger by giving someone a bloody nose. I’d do it all the time. No wonder you killed people for a living.”

“If only everyone saw it that way,” you tell her with a relieved smile. “I can’t believe the stoic Ellie Phimister just called me cool.” Don’t blush, Y/N, don’t blush, you beg yourself.

“Don’t let it get to your head. I once called Wilson cool.”

“He’s not so bad. He’s the reason I’m here.”

“He is?” Remind me to thank him, she thinks. “Hey, listen. I know we didn’t get off to the best start, and uh… I just wanted to say that… I think you’re really awesome.”

“Well, thank-”

“No, that’s not what I wanted to say. What I wanted to say is that, uh… I’m not really much of a romantic or anything, but I really like you. And I normally wouldn’t ever tell a girl that I liked I like her, because then she would stop talking to me and also hate me forever, I think. But you seem… Different.”

Oh shit. You’re glad your crush likes you back, but...I know what I have to do. I just fucking hate it. “Listen, I’m sorry for giving you the wrong impression, but I don’t like you that way. At all. You’re just my roommate that I really like as a friend. We probably wouldn’t even be friends if we weren’t roommates.”

“But we are roommates.”

“Then I should probably change rooms.”

“Wow. I never thought I’d be the asshole who turns into a, well, a fucking asshole when I get rejected, but I guess I am that kind of asshole. Maybe it’s because I know you’re full of shit. Fuck you, Y/N.”

You sigh, and she turns the music off as you leave the room, making your way to the offices. It’s the early evening, so it’s likely either Jean Grey or Professor Xavier is still in their office.

An hour later, you return. Your efforts were fruitless.

*Guess it’s likely time to make with the apologies, see if she’ll at least treat me with civility after the stunt I pulled.*

“I tried to get a room change. It looks like there isn’t anywhere else for me to go.”

“Then just get out of the school, you murderous scum,” Ellie fires.

*Guess not.*

“Oh shit,” you say, trying not to let the hurt show. She knew how insecure you were, how you just knew that’s what everyone here really thought about you. You’d told her that. Foolishly opened up to her, knowing it’d end like this, or worse.

But in the end, you knew you deserved it for pushing her away. Shattering her blackened heart.

“You’re right. I’ll start packing my things now.”

*Wait,* Ellie thought, but her pride had its hand over her mouth. Don’t go. Don’t be like everyone else.

But, faster than she thought possible, you’re out the door. Guess you hadn’t taken root in this place as deeply as she’d fooled herself.

There’s a knock on the door about ten minutes later.

“Go away!” Ellie yells, throwing a random textbook at the door.

“Why did Y/N leave?” Wade asks through said door.

“Because she’s a stupid fucking liar! Go away!”

“Oh yeah? Well, that stupid fucking liar is gonna get us both in trouble if she we don’t retrieve her, so get the hell up, Negasonic Punkass Mean Teen Queen!”

Ellie begrudgingly gets off her ass and opens the door, hoping that Wade doesn’t notice the eyeliner that’s lightly stained her cheeks, or, at least, that he doesn’t point it out. He seems to have enough courtesy to do at least the latter.

“Tracked her phone to here,” He says, looking at his own phone and walking towards a door. Ellie follows, but stands off to the side when he opens the door.

“Go away.”

“That’s funny, that’s exactly what your little girlfriend said when I knocked on her door.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” you disagree.

“Then why are you running away? You only run away when you like someone, you’re always willing to stick around for a fight. It used to be a good quality, when you were doing a job no kid should be doing. I really should’ve pulled you outta that life sooner, but I knew you wouldn’t’ve listened to me,” Wade admits, unintentionally explaining a *lot* about you.

“She’s not like you, Wade. She can die. I’m not risking that for some cheesy teen romance that’ll probably last around two dates and then fizzle off into us being acquaintances,” you argue, peeking out the window to notice you ex-friend, ex-something, at least, outside. Shit. But you know the truth:

“If you really felt that way, kid, you wouldn’t bother running away.” He continues in a grave, lowered tone: “You wouldn’t have bothered hurting her. If you were anyone else, I’d’ve kicked your stupid ass. You’re lucky.”

“I wouldn’t consider myself lucky.”

“Ellie fucking Phimister told you that she liked you. Like, as a person. You’re luckier than anyone else I’ve ever met.”

You roll your eyes. “Just go away. And take Ellie fucking Phimister with you.”

“Can’t say I didn’t try, kid.”

“I wouldn’t bother telling anyone about this. Go,” you say, slamming the door in his face and sliding down it to the ground, hiding your face in your hands. Your life was so unbelievably fucked.

You let yourself cry, thinking no one’s there to listen. And then there’s a knock on the window. You look to find Ellie there.

“Let me in, asshole,” she says, her voice muffled by the glass. You open the door, too tired to say no. You were so tired, you realized. Tired of running. Tired of fighting. Tired of being so fucking alone.

“You fucking idiot,” she says, pulling you in for a hug, her head buried in your chest. “You fucking idiot.” She pulls away, telling you: “You keep forgetting that I’m just as tough as you are. What am I gonna have to, arm wrestle you?”

You laugh harder than you should, the laughter dissolving into tears.

“I’m so sorry,” you tell her.”I just- I’m not used to people being safe around me. I’m so used to being the most dangerous person in the room, I- I’m sorry for forgetting that you’re- You’re a fucking force of nature, E. I’ll do anything for you to forgive me for being such a fucking scumbag.”

“Just shut up with the apologies, okay? You- Make it up to me by paying for our first date, yeah?”

“I really don’t think it’s a good idea-”

“Well, I do. And, listen: I’m sorry, too. I should’ve realized that just throwing my feelings on you wasn’t the best course of action. I’m not the only person in the world with people issues, and I seem to forget that sometimes. So, let’s have people issues together, okay?”

“I-”

She fixes you with an impatient stare.

“Okay,” you sigh, smiling. “I paid for a night here, do you just want to stay?”

“Yeah. I’d like that, actually. I…”She hesitates, searching your expression for something. “I call big spoon.”

#ellie phimister #ellie phimister imagine #ellie phimister x reader #negasonic teenage warhead #negasonic teenage warhead x reader #negasonic teenage warhead imagine #negasonicteenageimagines #x men #fanfiction #x reader #imagine #marvel #marvel fanfiction #x men fanfiction #deadpool #deadpool fanfiction

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bannerswife · 7 years ago

Text

Freaks - Bruce Banner x Reader

Title: Freaks

Pairing: Bruce Banner x Reader (female)

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1627

Requested by @headcannonqueen

“Hey plz can you do a bruce banner x reader where the reader is a artist and has the power of shapeshifing and she s talking to natasha and wanda about something and he was listening in idk 😂Am really bad at this but i havent found a good bruce one in ages that i havnt allready read. I have tried to write one myself but didnt work very good . xxxxx thanx Keira”

Authors Note: Alright soo i hope this is what you were looking for! i really hope you like it! <3

You drew your hand aimlessly across a canvas creating yet another beautiful work of art. You always loved to draw and paint, it was a way of expressing how you felt without any need of communication and to let your mind completely loose. Tony appreciated your work that much he had even given you your own work space, where you had everything you had ever wished for when it came to utensils for your work.

You hadn’t been with the avengers for long but with the time you’ve spent with them, it had honestly been the best months of your life. Though you weren't like others, you had a type of power that would make you considered to be a freak. You had possessed the ability to shapeshift into any person you desired.

On a mission, the avengers had found you and gladly took you in under their wing, especially Doctor Banner. You were quiet and very reserved when you had first met them, afraid that you were nothing but of a nuisance to them all. But Bruce helped you and spoke to you in ways that no one has ever treated you like before. It was something that truly did set off a feeling in the pit of your stomach that you had never felt before.

“My god y/n, this is amazing.” You heard Wanda from behind, making you jump in fright causing you to change forms.

At first Wanda was taken aback at your sudden change of appearance, but quickly you changed back into your desired look, your cheeks flushing a bright red.

“I’m- uh sorry about that, you scared me... but thank you,” You said with a slight smile, as you took down your canvas from the easel to replace it with another empty canvas to start yet a new project.

“No don't be sorry, i was the one that came in without knocking, which for that i’m sorry,” Wanda reassured as she walked over to the large table in the middle of your workshop that was covered in all of your paintings.

She impressively looked over them all a smile across her lips. Everything you had painted truly were remarkable, each telling their own story. Expressing different emotions and personas.

“Hey girls,” Natasha greeted as she suddenly walked into your workshop.

“Hi,” Wanda and you both said in unison looking up at her as she strided in.

“I was getting sick of everyone out there so i hope you don't mind if i hang with you guys?” Nat suggested as she took a seat at the large table that Wanda was just previously observing.

“No of course not, i’m actually glad you two came in. I was honestly kinda getting bored on my own to be honest,” You said, as you again absentmindedly began to draw your brush across the board.

It was then Natasha’s turn to admire your amazing work, a bright smile came across her face as she reached a certain piece of work.

“What’s this one of y/n?” Nat asked, as she held up the canvas to show you.

Your eyes grew wide and your cheeks flushed red, quickly you ran over to Nat and snatched the art work off her.

It was a painting of Bruce with the hulk standing tall above him, it truly was beautiful, as it was filled with all types of different greens across the canvas.

“I don't see any other fanart of us, care to explain?” She questioned, while Wanda sat next to her, her too with a growing smile over her face.

You held the piece of work close to your chest, as you rocked back and forth not knowing what to say.

“You like him, dont you?” Wanda inquired.

You didn't have to be a mind reader to know that you liked Bruce. From the moment you had met him you started falling for the scientist. Though you knew you’d never even have a chance to be with him. Sure the two of you were close friends but that was it, nothing more. And that sure did break you.

“Yeah, yeah i do. But i will never even have a chance with him, you know how he is. And besides, im a shape shifting freak.” You sighed, placing the canvas in a draw so no one else would find out, if they didn't already notice.

“And he turns into an enormous green rage monster, so? Have you seen the way he looks at you or anything else he does around you? He is head over heels in love with you!” Natasha addressed, making you softly smile at even imaging a chance with Bruce.

“Still- I don't know, don’t you girls have any love interests at the moment since we’re sharing?” You asked facing the two girls behind you, wanting to change the topic from yourself.

“Uh yeah no,” Natasha laughed as she put her feet up on the table, careful not to knock your work.

“What so not even the super soldier Steve?” Quickly you changed into Cap, in his full uniform, putting your hands on your hips in a proud looking stance.

“Aren’t i just everything you want in a man? Strong, handsome and courageous?” You said, making the girls laugh and soon after you join them, changing back into your normal appearance.

“I’m sorry that was rude,” You apologised after recollecting yourself, instantly feeling bad for mocking the avenger, going back to your work.

“No, no it was great actually. You nailed it.” Wanda commented, still trying to collect herself from her fit of laughter.

You found yourself again painting yet another picture of Bruce, you hadn’t even meant to. You smiled upon it looking at the bright greens that covered the canvas once again.

“What about you Wanda, anyone you’re crushing on like y/n over here?” Natasha asked, looking at the beautiful young woman on her left.

“No, no one here really appeals to me to be quite honest,” She replied as she fiddled with her long brunette locks.

“Hey, i thought you might want something like me? I’m- what was it? Oh yeah that's right- a genius, billionaire, playboy and philanthropist.” You spun back around changed into nonetheless, Tony Stark.

Again the room was filled with laughter, hardly anyone able to hold back their fit.

“Now that im not sorry for,” You cackled, before turning once again back to your art, changing to normal.

“Well I’d love to stay and chat but i’ve got to go, sorry girls” Natasha said, with a huff. Wanda too had to go as well, just as they went to leave they saw Bruce standing in the doorway.

“Bruce? What are you doing here?” Nat commented, her eyebrows furrowing, a slight smile spreading back across her lips.

Bruce looked flustered and completely confused. You quickly looked back upon hearing his name, butterflies now forming in your stomach. He hadn't been standing there that whole time without anyone noticing had he?

“I-uh-um, I’m sorry i- i didn't mean to pry but i came to talk to y/n but i-” Bruce stumbled upon his words, completely at loss because 1. He had just been caught snooping and 2. He found out you had feelings for him.

“You listened to our whole conversation, didn’t you?” Wanda interrupted, as the two girls put there hands upon their hips a playful smirk on their lips.

Bruce looked back and forth between the two girls, shoving his hands into his pockets before responding with only a slight defeated nod.

Your eyes widened and again your cheeks flushed. The room suddenly becoming an extra 10 degrees hotter as you felt your heart leap into your throat.

“Well, we’ll leave you two together to do some explaining,” And with that, you were left alone with the man you had yearned for from day one.

“Like i said, I’m sorry, i didn't mean to eavesdrop its just i heard-”

“It’s fine, Bruce. Listen, i’ve been wanting to tell you for ages how i felt about you but i just hadn’t known how to or if you even felt the same way,” You begun, as you slowly walked over to the scientist.

“And i'm fine if you don't, of course, i understand. These past months have been amazing and having you by my side is everything i've needed, you have no idea. I honestly don't know what i would have done without you.” You rambled, Bruce looking into your beautiful glowing e/c eyes.

“I’m sorry, i probably sound like an idiot.” You laughed covering your face with your hands in embarrassment.

Bruce chuckled, softly taking your hands away from your face and holding them now in his hands.

“You know, i’ve felt things with you that i’ve never felt with anyone else before. I could barely even put my head around it. But i finally began to understand and what i was feeling-” Bruce looked down laughing at himself, he couldn't believe what he was just about to confess. It was as if it was all some dream.

“I- I love you y/n.” He confessed before cupping a hand over your flushed cheek.

You brightly smiled, placing your hand on top of his, over your cheek. Leaning into his large callused hand.

“And i love you, Bruce,”

Suddenly Bruce softly placed his lips onto yours, it wasn't much but it was everything you had dreamed of. The soft touch of his lips on yours made you want to melt right there and then, it felt as though everything in the world didn't matter anymore.

The two of you pulled back, your foreheads resting on each other’s before Bruce spoke up.

“And i guess that means we can both be freaks together,”

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bangtanbombimagines · 8 years ago

Note

89 with Taehyung please

Lessons in Love (Taehyung x Reader Fluff)

Prompt request: “Are you hitting on me?”Summary: Taehyung flirts like a 12-year-old, but you’re able to figure everything out anyways.Word count: 1.5k words

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” you frowned, looking at your friend, Yuna, who had dragged you to her mathematics study group. “You know I’m terrible at math.”

“So this is a chance to learn!” Yuna answered with a smile. “We’ll help you study, it’s not a problem.”

“You and your friends are so smart,” you whined as Yuna dragged you through the library towards the private rooms. “I’ll look so dumb in comparison.”

“Trust me, they’re not like that!” Yuna comforted, finally stopping in front of a closed door. It led to the room her study group booked every Wednesday. “Besides, you’re like the English god, so if anyone needs help with that you can pay back the favour.”

“If you’re sure,” you conceded, albeit hesitantly. Yuna nodded enthusiastically and turned the knob, swinging the door open to reveal the small room behind.

There was a single table surrounded by three other students. One girl, who you vaguely recognized, was sitting closest to the door. The head of the table was a boy named Namjoon, the certified genius on campus. Beside him was another boy, but this one you didn’t recognize.

He had messy brown hair and tanned skin. His lips were a little pouty, and his nose was strong. When your gaze traveled up, you saw that his dark, long eyes were ringed by thick eyelashes. He was also staring right back at you.

Blushing, you quickly averted your gaze and turned uncomfortably to Yuna.

“Hey guys!” she chirped. “This is my friend, Y/N. She’s in the other class, so that’s probably why you don’t recognize her.”

“Just to preface this, I’m pretty shit at math,” you said, wanting to address your discomfort immediately. “I know you guys are all really smart but I don’t want you to think I’m, like, taking advantage of you. If you need help in literally any other subject, I’m here.”

“Nah, no worries,” Namjoon responded with an easy smile. “We’re not math elitists or some shit. I’m Namjoon, by the way.”

“I’m Jisoo,” the girl added dully, briefly glancing up from her laptop in front of her. You smiled, but Jisoo turned back to her screen too quickly to catch it.

You turned to the handsome boy beside Namjoon, waiting for him to introduce himself. He blinked owlishly at you for a moment, his face expressionless. Slowly, his eyes met yours and his mouth began to open.

“Your shirt looks weird,” he said. You looked down at your t-shirt, which had a print of an old anime series you used to watch.

“I, uh–you–okay?” you spluttered, confused by the boy’s comment.

“What the hell, Tae?” Namjoon asked, bewildered. He turned to his friend, his eyes narrowed. “I thought you liked–ow!”

The boy turned to glare at his friend, and when you looked back at Yuna in confusion, she just rolled her eyes at you.

“Just ignore Taehyung,” Yuna snorted, grabbing your arm and leading you to the table. She pulled you down into the seat beside hers and turned to address the group. “So! Let’s start reviewing for the quiz next week.”

You glanced at the clock beside your computer. It read 3:04 AM. Groaning, you looked at the stacks of sheets in front of you, and then at the textbook filled with highlighted text and sticky notes. But for the hours you had spent studying, you learned next to nothing.

In a moment of desperation, you logged into Facebook and open your study group chat, which you had been added to after your first sit-in.

Y/N 3:06 AM

SOS!!! Is anyone online!!!

Tae Tae 3:10 AM

ya sup

Y/N 3:11 AM

I don’t understand anything??? Pls help

Immediately after you hit “enter,” Taehyung viewed the message. But no response came, and the typing bubble didn’t appear either. You broke out into a nervous sweat, overwhelmed by the fast approaching quiz and your lack of understanding of math in general.

Then, a message notification popped up onto your screen. Taehyung had messaged you separately from the group chat.

Taehyung 3:14 AM

lets just dm. dont wanna annoy the others

Y/N 3:14 AM

Taehyung 3:15 AM

so what don’t u understand?

Y/N 3:16 AM

Everything!!!! All the stuff we went over last meeting has completely left my brain.

Taehyung 3:17 AM

ok prepare urself this is gonna be a long lesson

So, for the next hour, Taehyung did his best to explain the different concepts and methods to you, while you scribbled notes furiously on your worn notebook. By the time he had went through all the material, your hand was throbbing and it was well past 4AM.

Y/N 4:37 AM

Thank you sooooooo much Taehyung! I owe you my life

Taehyung 4:38 AM

no thnx

Y/N 4:39 AM

Ok, rude. But seriously, thanks. I don’t know what I would have done otherwise

Taehyung 4:39 AM

no probs. but u owe me now so don’t forget

Y/N 4:40 AM

I won’t!!!!! You’re the best!

Taehyung changed your nickname to “idiot.”

The day of the quiz came quickly, but when you sat down at your desk, you felt more relaxed than in any other math class. This time, you were actually prepared and confident in your abilities. So when the quiz arrived, you whizzed through every page.

Everything Taehyung had explained to you was on the quiz. You were sure that if you found the quiz easy, Taehyung could probably do it in his sleep. Even though you thought he was a bit annoying, he still had saved your ass.

When the test period finally finished, you grabbed all your belongings and darted from the testing centre. You spotted one of your friends, Jungkook, dashing towards the exit as well.

“Hey, Jungkook!” you called. He turned around, and once he spotted you, he smiled and waited for you to catch up. “How was the quiz?”

“You know I’m the fucking worst at math,” Jungkook scowled, crossing his arms as you walked together. “Fuck, why is this a mandatory course. I’m in liberal arts for a reason.”

“Tell me about it,” you replied, laughing humourlessly. “Luckily, this time I had help. The quiz wasn’t so–”

“Y/N!” someone yelled suddenly, their deep voice booming throughout the hall. Startled, you glanced up, spotting Taehyung a few meters away from you. He hurried over, nearly tripping over himself in the process. “How’d the quiz go?”

“Really well, actually,” you replied. “Everything you explained to me was on it, so I could answer all the questions.”

“No way,” Jungkook snorted. “Y/N, good at math? That’s fucking new.”

“What the fuck?” Taehyung growled, narrowing his eyes at Jungkook. “Watch yourself, you prick. Y/N isn’t stupid.”

“Woah, chill man,” Jungkook replied, putting his hands up in surrender. “I was making a joke. Calm yourself.”

“Let’s all just relax a little bit!” you exclaimed tightly, grabbing Taehyung’s arm and pulling him away from a very volatile Jungkook. He put up little resistance, letting himself be led around the building. When you reached an emptier hallway, you stopped and look back at Taehyung. “What was that all about?”

“He was implying you were stupid,” Taehyung mumbled, his eyes downcast. “And you tried really hard to study for this quiz.”

“You probably tried harder than me, if I’m being honest,” you said. “Plus, you call me stupid all the time. Are you the only one who can say that?”

“No,” he muttered, still unable to meet your eyes. He said something, but he was speaking too quietly for you to understand.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“I said,” Taehyung began, clearing his throat awkwardly, “your hair looks bad.”

Reflexively, you reached for your long hair. You had slept with it in a bun last night, so your hair fell in loose waves. Objectively, you knew it looked pretty nice. You looked at Taehyung, confused, but when you saw his expression, suddenly everything clicked.

His cheeks were dusted in pink, and his eyes were darting around everywhere but your face.

“Are you–are you hitting on me?” you asked slowly. Taehyung’s cheeks darkened into a deeper red, and he bit his lip. “Oh my god, seriously? Are you twelve or something?”

“What!?” Taehyung whined. “You’re cute and it’s intimidating! What else can I do?”

“Ask me for my number or something?” you suggested, trying to hold back laughter. “Like a normal person our age?”

“Well, if that’s the case,” Taehyung said, finally lifting his gaze to your face as he scratched his nape awkwardly, “can I cash in my favour for your number?”

“I think I can do that,” you smiled, reaching for Taehyung’s phone once he fished it out of his pocket. “I might even say yes to a date, too.”

RECEIVED 4:07 PM

hey dumbo

- Girl in Luv

Wow I’m done and it’s 3AM. Nice. This is unedited, so I’ll go back and make corrections later. Hope you all checked out our masterlist! Happy 3k woot woot! Thanks for everyone who’s stuck with us. We’re so glad you guys are enjoying our imagines. Happy reading

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showingthroughtome · 8 years ago

Text

Lemon Meringue

a story about pastries, panini’s, pasta, pie, and the boy who knew how to cook them.

a oneshot i wrote for allison for last years summer fic exchange that i dont have on my tumblr

read below

Cooking was hard. So. Damn. Hard. A complex art only few could master.

Or at least that’s how Pearl saw it. At the age of 26, the only “meals” she could successfully make were a bowl of cereal, a warmed up pop tart, or a mixed salad with a generous amount of ranch dressing. Nearly every dish she tried to make that needed a fire to cook ended up charred black. She didn’t really mind it though. The General Tso’s chicken from Double Dragon was magnificent, and they delivered, eliminating the need to leave her one bedroom apartment and face the shame of entering the same establishment 3-6 nights a week.

Plus, being able to cook sounded scary - being able to function like a real-life grown-up sounded boring. And Pearl prided herself on not being boring. Sure she was nearing thirty and lived alone with her two puppies, but she also had a kick ass job, a job that left her with stories to tell at every party and jokes to make with every new encounter.

Five days a week, Pearl had the luxury of working at a flower shop. Maybe to some that didn’t seem like the most exciting thing in the world, but the particular flower shop she was head florist at was in the heart of London. Every kind of person imaginable walked through those doors requesting an arrangement to be made - ex lovers, adulterous husbands, secret admires, widows, widowers, proud parents, even the occasional love sick spouse. She saw them all, and knew all their little anecdotes.

Still, she had to admit that even though she could pair the perfect group of flowers to make a beautiful bouquet, she could never cook an egg just right - she’d either cook it too long and burn it to a crisp, or pull it off the heat too early and have it runnier than anyone would like. It was her biggest weakness - not being able to cook for herself.

And her family didn’t let her forget it. At every family gathering, when it was time to make their dinner, nearly everyone joined in at poking fun - her parents, her brothers and sisters, her aunts and uncles. All of a sudden, the family jokes centered on Pearl and her inadequacy.

“Oh no! Keep Pearl away from the stove! She might accidentally turn the burners on and get everything extra crispy.” They’d mock.

“Don’t let Pearl handle the ladle. I don’t know how, but I’m sure she’d ruin the entire meal.” They’d laugh.

It didn’t bother her much, not after it started happening at every holiday since she first attempted to make a meal. It was old news to her. No surprise rushed through her at the joking.

But what did shock Pearl was the gift her twin sister gave her that year for her birthday. Instead of the simple Complete Collection of Films starring Julia Roberts she so nicely requested, she got a plain envelope containing a slip of paper, on it held the details for a four session cooking class. At first glance, Pearl laughed and tried pushing the paper back into her sister’s hand. Her sister wasn’t having that, standing up and moving away, staring her down with a playful smirk. Pearl could just tell by the look in her eyes that it wasn’t a joke, that maybe her sister had expected her to “grow up” a little. Somehow, Pearl just knew she’d be going.

Every phone call they had for the three weeks leading up to the beginning of the Saturday cooking classes, Pearl tried to get her sister to say it was okay if she didn’t go. Her pleading only lead to a stronger case for the opposing argument.

That’s why, in the middle of July, Pearl was clutching a coffee in one hand and a rumpled envelope in another, pacing outside of a bakery. She didn’t think she needed the classes. She didn’t think she needed to put on an apron and learn how to make pasta or casseroles or bread. The only reason she was there was because her sister had paid for them, they were non-refundable, and maybe if she learned how to make a pie she wouldn’t have to spend so much money at restaurants for dessert.

—

It made sense that she was the last one to walk in. Why wouldn’t she be? She was the one who took time contemplating if she should even enter the building, looking in the glass door to see the people gathering, making her seven minutes late.

“Oh, hello!” A man with brown curly hair and wearing a red apron greeted as Pearl finally opened the door and a bell chimed. “Are you here for the class?”

“Ummm,” Pearl knew there was no going back after her answer. If she said yes, the next two hours of her life would be consumed by measurements and chopping and simmering and listening to some teacher tell her how to combine all of that to make a dish. But she didn’t know how to explain away her presence so she nodded, “Yeah.”

“Sick!” The man exclaimed. “Just find an empty counter and we’ll start.”

Pearl took note of the fellow students - three older ladies, probably in their late thirties/early forties, and two men, both well over fifty. Even in this company, they left one of the two front counters empty, leaving Pearl with no option other than to sit directly in front of the instructor and beside one of the ladies.

“Sorry I’m late.” She apologised to everyone while sliding onto the stool.

“No worries. I just finished in the back myself. I had a run in with a pesky soufflé that just wouldn’t go right.” The man, the instructor it seemed, patted down his apron and took a place at the front counter, the one facing the others.

From her spot, she finally had the chance to observe the man without having her staring seem weird. He looked young - younger than her for sure. As he organised his things, he almost looked nervous but at the same time he looked right, covered in flour and hair pulled up into a messy bun, clearly telling the truth about the cooking incident.

“Alright.” He clapped his hands, more to gather his thoughts than to grab everyone’s attention. “First I guess I’ll introduce myself and tell you a little about me.” He said, then looked around to make sure everyone was okay with that. Pearl saw a few nods out of her peripheral vision. “Okay then. I’m Harry Styles. I’ve just recently graduated culinary school and began working as assistant head baker here at Lilly’s Bakery. Lilly is a real nice lady.” Harry smiled, and Pearl couldn’t help but notice how nice it looked. It was the kind of genuine expression of feelings that not even a grump like her could pretend wasn’t special. And dammit if it didn’t have her feeling a little bit less hesitant. “I don’t know if we should go around and introduce ourselves one by one or just get right into the cooking. This is my first class so-”

“Normally that’s how it goes.” A lady from the back interrupted. “It’s polite to learn everyone’s name in the kitchen.”

“We’ll start with you at the front then.” Harry gestured to Pearl. Something about him was so carefree. Pearl had been around him for less than five minutes but still, some lady cut him off mid sentence and his beaming happiness stayed clear on his every feature the entire time.

“Hi. I’m Pearl.” She tried to sound excited. But, truth be told, she just wasn’t like Harry. She wasn’t unhappy per se, or had any problems with the people around her. She was simply at her baseline where friendliness was never her strongest skill.

“What do you do?” Harry was quick to ask, taking her blank gaze as a sign that he’d have to question her if he wanted to know more.

And because her job was where her pride resided, she had no problem lighting up. “I’m a florist.”

“That so cool.” He instantly responded. “I’ve never met a florist before.”

“Must not have been a very good boyfriend then.” She jokingly suggested, watching his eye squint a little at her insinuation. It was just a proven fact that good boyfriends or girlfriends get their loved ones flowers. It made the relationship that much sweeter.

He was opening his mouth to come back at her when Pearl’s neighbor spoke up. “Aw, he looks like quite the lovely young man.”

“I very much am.” Harry’s chest puffed out underneath the apron he wore like a badge of honor, like a Superman emblem was sewn front and center. “No one’s ever complained about my desserts before. They make excellent gifts.”

“Mhmm. Sure they do.” Pearl was sure. But not really. Because flowers trumped whatever kind of cake he could make any day, and she was willing to bet money. The emotion behind a well crafted bouquet held so much more than a few sugary treats.

After a small stare down, Pearl ended up cracking a smile, turning her gaze to look at the lady next to her so everyone would just move on.

Her name was Jill. She was a housewife who wanted to learn to be more technical in her cooking, to impress her family just that little bit more.

Maxine was a doctor who was nearly as quiet as Pearl.

Kathy was the one who had interrupted Harry earlier, but it turned out that she was also in the medical field, a first responder who loved to take classes when she had time off just for some normalcy. During Kathy’s introduction, Pearl couldn’t keep herself from turning her head in Harry’s direction, especially since she felt like she could feel his eyes on the back of her head. Though, she turned around to find him paying all his attention to Kathy.

Pearl played it cool, and didn’t look away from neither William nor Matthew as both men introduced themselves. They were actually good friends that were sent there by their wives so the ladies could have some alone time with the men out of their hair.

“I’ve kind of laid these classes out so that they are set up by the sequence of meals in a day.” Harry drawed everyone’s attention back to the front of the class, back to what they came to do. “As it goes, we’ll start with a breakfast favorite - croissants! And we’ll make them from scratch.”

The idea of learning how to make a light fluffy pastry that Pearl often loved to slather in butter didn’t sound too bad to her. Maybe even convenient. And Harry was already talking a mile a minute about the layers of dough and butter they’d be making and kneading then rolling out before she could even shrug in acceptance. Before she knew it, ingredients were being handed out and all six students were following along to Harry’s simple instructions.

First they were activating yeast with warm water, then adding just one cup of flour to that. All the science that Harry was explaining about what they were doing and what they would do, went right over Pearl’s head, probably everyone else’s too. But whenever he looked up from his mixing bowl, she smiled and nodded like she knew what was happening to the gluten.

Harry pulled out six pre made mixtures he had left sitting so they wouldn’t have to wait for the dough to rise in class, cutting down waiting time. Next they got to do the “fun stuff” - kneading the dough with their hands. Which probably would be a lot more fun if Pearl had remembered to take off her mood ring and kept it from getting embarrassingly covered in dough. Everyone around commented on her rookie mistake, even good ol’ Matthew in the back, who had probably never seen a ball of sticky dough before either laughed about what an “amateur move” it was. Harry reassured her it would all come out of the nooks and crannies of the flower design once it properly dried, holding back his smug grin at Pearl’s genuine frown.

Moving on to the next step of incorporating the big block of butter while rolling the dough in a square-folding method, Harry walked around to each person to offer up assurance. Apparently this was the most important step so that the croissants would end up having millions of layers and that distinctive lightness.

It had Pearl completely stumped. Every time she rolled out her dough, it just came rebounding back, not all the way but enough to aggravate her. And even more so that she had to keep doing it wrong since Harry came to her last.

“Why do you look so defeated?” Harry noted, approaching her counter and seeing her nearly slumping in her stool, half attempting to get the dough to stay.

“It won’t go right.” She dropped the rolling pin and huffed an exaggerated breath.

“That’s because you’re not putting in any effort.” Harry rounded her counter and stood by her side, grabbing her rolling pin and with one strong motion, the dough stuck - or more than it did for her. “You have to put a little muscle behind it.” He rolled again, elongating the dough before finally folding it over and turning it to start again, just like the recipe required. “Here! Try it with more force.” He handed her back the pin and encouraged her to stand up.

Pearl sighed and went for another go, using a little more of the strength she knew she had. Still it rolled back more than it was supposed to.

“Like this.” Harry spoke, and next thing she knew, he had both hands over hers, hip to hip with her, and rolling at her dough together. From an outsider’s perspective, she knew they looked like damn fools - straight out of a cheesy movie where the guy used this moment to lay a smooth pick up line on the leading female character. Something slightly off putting, but not so much that it kept the shiver from running up their spines.

The generic moment they were sharing didn’t stop her from letting him help her, and once she got it and the dough had clearly been rolled enough and Harry didn’t let up his grip, she had to turn away to hide her face because somehow she felt like she was blushing.

To redeem herself, she had to say something, anything to distract Harry from her quickened breath. “I didn’t see you doing this with Jill.”

“Jill is better at this than you.” Harry spoke evenly, right into her ear. It wasn’t a whisper but rather a mumble, smooth and confident. “They kind of all are.” He held on for a second more, then stepped away to catch her scorned expression.

“Hey!” She whined. “That’s not conducive to a learning environment.”

“Sorry, new teacher.” He placed a hand over his chest indicating he was talking about himself, leaving yet another flour handprint when he moved it away.

—

She couldn’t or wouldn’t dare tell her sister that she didn’t hate the class. It would give her too much satisfaction. So when her sister called that night, she shrugged and said, “I didn’t burn the croissants.”

—

That whole not-burning-things didn’t last long, not even through the very next class. In her defense, Pearl got all the way to the end before she completely and utterly turned her panini into a lump of charcoal. She wasn’t sure why, maybe it was the text message she got from her sister, or maybe it was the distracting force that was Harry chopping vegetables up with the other ladies. They were all going for healthy while Pearl threw some chicken she successfully cooked and a handful of shredded cheese on two slices of bread.

Harry was being charming, shamelessly flirting with the ladies, making them laugh and gleam with a certain aura older women always got around young men. Anyone would’ve been distracted by the scene… Well, apparently not Matthew or William, because while they produced two beautiful, edible dishes, a stench wafted through the room. Pearl automatically knew the burnt smell was her doing without even lifting the press. She unplugged it and gave up.

“Awww, honey.” Kathy sympathised, placing her knife down and walking over to Pearl. “Come join us.” She grabbed for her wrist. “We’ll start over.”

Pearl shuffled to the guidance of the wise woman and avoided eye contact with everyone.

“I personally hate these presses.” Harry randomly spoke up without moving from his task at hand. “They’re a bit temperamental so they can really mess you up.”

The ladies nodded, probably also trying to make Pearl feel alright about what happened, and began discussing how all these new appliances were trying to out do a simple pot and pan - the backbone to cooking in their opinion. Harry agreed wholeheartedly. Pearl slowly began to help put her second attempt together.

And that one turned out better, completely edible. Though, that was probably due to Harry’s constant vigilance that he tried to hide from across the counter. Pearl didn’t fail to notice how he was the one to lift it at just the right moment, prompting Pearl to turn it off and scrape the panini from the hot plate.

“You need some help cleaning that one up?” Kathy offered her assistance to Pearl as everyone was filing out of the small bakery, motioning towards the poor, burnt panini press.

“No, thanks.” Pearl stood up and slide her phone into her back pocket. “I was just waiting for everyone else to finish up since I figured it would take a little extra elbow grease.”

Kathy nodded. “I spotted a Brillo pad back there. Take that to the burnt cheese and it’ll lift right off.”

Pearl took that in as she finally peeled the press open to see it completely covered in blackened cheese. She smiled and began her walk to the sink, waving goodbye to the last lady.

She was elbow deep in soapy water, scrubbing the metal, cursing the world when she heard someone approaching. She knew who it was just by the chuckle she heard.

“Ha ha ha. Pearl can’t cook. I get it.” She knew she was being self deprecating. She knew she was feeling sorry for herself. But it was better she got it out so Harry’s teasing would just seem redundant.

“You just lose attention easily, I think.” Harry made his way next to her, leaning a hip on the counter and staring her down. The stare wasn’t intimidating, or creepy, but there was something behind it. Like he was studying her, perhaps.

And since Pearl wasn’t one to turn away from anything, hence the cooking class she was attending even though she hated the art, she stared back and slowly replied, “Ya think?”

Harry’s eyes dropped a little to her lips, lingering for a second too long, watching the smirk slide onto them.

“Need help?” He coughed, and looked away to the soapy water.

“Wouldn’t want you to work too hard.” She teased, turning away from him. Pearl was proud of herself for the obvious effect she had on the young man. She knew she was beautiful - not in a cocky way or in a way that left her using it as a weapon, but in a way that allowed her to run around this world confidently and with a poise attitude. And if that let her trip up a cute boy or two, she didn’t mind, not really.

“Okay.” Harry sounded taken aback, as if the fact that she stared at him in that way and then didn’t fall weak at the knees was completely bizarre. He hopped on the counter next to her, and even though it was a little clumsy, he spoke with a smirk in his voice. “I’ll stay right here and admire the view then.”

Pearl rolled her eyes and kept scrapping at the pan with her metal sponge, blowing at her wispy hair when it fell in her way.

Slowly she was getting it clean. After about 10 minutes, and minimal comments from Harry, she was drying it off and wishing to never see it again.

“But you’re learning a lot from my class, right?” Harry concluded as he followed Pearl to the exit, needing to close up shop once everyone was gone.

“Oh tons.” Pearl stopped near the register so she could face him. One thing about Pearl was that if she was going to take a jab at someone, she preferred it said to their face. “Like how to burn something like a panini in a panini press. Or how to clean said press after.”

Harry shook his head. “Again, it’s your attention span, not my lessons.”

“Maybe I’m just in a distracting environment.”

Pearl raised her hands to gesture towards the bright pink walls with tiny little cupcakes on them, or the displays of cakes towards the storefront. Harry got another idea though, puffing his chest out just that much more, biting his bottom lip to suppress (or possibly highlight) his grin.

“I do look good in an apron, don’t I?” He patted down his body, covered by the red, messy apron, so sure in his flirtation that Pearl almost felt herself enjoy it. She definitely liked flirting, that wasn’t in the question. She just didn’t like to be the one to get flustered first and grin like an idiot.

“Eh, I don’t think it was the apron.” Pearl contested.

“Yeah, but it was me so it’s still a win on my part.”

Pearl rolled her eyes while shaking her head, “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“How could I not be flattered when someone like you almost destroys an appliance because of my apron?”

Pearl didn’t know much about Harry, but she was starting to grasp bits and pieces of who he was.

“You’re a dick, you know that?” Pearl was tempted to crush his foot with the heel of her boot for insinuating such false things.

“Next class I’ll make it up to you.” Harry leaned in closer and attempted to charm, seeing himself as being on a roll. “I won’t give the other ladies any attention just so you won’t overcook your spaghetti.”

“Spaghetti?” Pearl perked up. Halfway because she loves pasta. Halfway because of the change of topic.

“We’re doing a classic spaghetti and meatball.”

“I don’t hate the idea.” She stepped one step closer to the door.

“Yes! Point for Harry!” He exclaimed, fist in the air.

And with that, she’s out the door, trying to shake the flutters the dorky, cocky, flirty boy gave her.

—

At work that following Monday, she arranged six bouquets for varying funerals, three to be sent off to a hospital, and one with a note that said “if you could just love me again, everything else would fall into place”.

The only saving grace of such a sullen work day was the fact she had packed her own lunch - a panini with chicken and tomato.

—

The spaghetti was boiling, and everything was going fine. For once, Pearl didn’t feel on constant high alert near a pot of roaring water. She was able to be like everyone else and listen to Harry’s instructions on how to shape the meatballs just right without having to keep one eye on the pasta.

She was feeling confident. All she had to do was cook the meatballs - making sure they weren’t too raw, or too well-done. Then she’d place them on top of the noodles she strained, and cover it all with the sauce she had already made. She wasn’t sure, because maybe it was all a fluke, but she figured it didn’t taste too bad.

So the pressure was really on to cook the meatballs just right. She was just staring at them - or through them into another realm where cooking wasn’t like learning trigonometry - when Harry approached her.

“You ready to cook those or are you still trying to win this staring contest?” He grinned when Pearl broke her concentration to glare daggers at him. “Op, you lose!”

Add that to the list of things Pearl was discovering Harry was: goofy, always trying to get a laugh, cheeky more often than not.

She rolled her eyes, because what else could she do at the boys brightness, and tried a pleading smile of her own.“Ehhhh, see, I’m thinking maybe you can cook them for me?”

“And why would I do that?” Harry looked shocked at her offer, as if it wasn’t obvious that she killed all the food she touched, as if he couldn’t see the hesitance in her eyes.

“Um, maybe so I won’t burn them and ruin all the hard work I’ve put in for the day?” The slip of that honest question made Pearl realised her front - the one that said I don’t give a fuck about this class - was actually just a front. Somewhere along the way, she started to care if she could actually be able to replicate any of this in the real world, away from all the other students and the young teacher who was better than his years should’ve allowed.

Harry kind of seemed fed up with her self deprecating ways. He was there to see her burn a glorified cheese toastie, but that didn’t cause him to lose faith in her, causing him to sigh and place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “That’s not going to happen, Pearl.”

“How do you know?” She genuinely wanted to know.

“Because you’re going to focus on what you’re doing.” He let his hand drop from her. “And if not, I’ll be here to turn the fryer off before they crisp up.”

Pearl exhaled a large breath, then turned the pan on, waiting for the oil to heat up just enough. It started to hardly crackle, and one look at Harry assured her it was time to place the meat in the pan. She watched diligently, not looking away when she wanted to, when Maxine and Jill were making jokes or when Matthew and Kathy complimented each other’s dishes. She stood and watched, turning the meatballs when the underside browned.

About five minutes later, she pulled them off the fire. They looked done, though she could cut into them and find the insides still raw and be completely disappointed in herself.

“What do you think?” She held the pan out to Harry. He kept his hands still behind his back, not saying a word but giving a reassuring head nod. “Alright? Cat got your tongue?” Pearl teased as she turned back to the noodles.

With great finesse, she placed a tongs-worth of pasta onto the plate, then the meatballs, then a generous ladle full of robust tomato sauce. Finally, now that she could, she looked around the room to see everyone else done and enjoying their food. It felt good to be done too, even if she took longer than everyone else. This crowd didn’t really care about that kind of thing anyway, too busy talking about the 80’s or like, the Great Depression or something.

“Well then?” Harry nudged her elbow with his own, gesturing with his eyes to the spaghetti and meatballs.

“Alright, alright.” She picked up the fork, going straight in, cutting a meatball in half to find the inside wasn’t still pink, but browned all the way through. Placing a bite inside her mouth, with equal parts of all the components, it wasn’t an unenjoyable experience. Dare she say, it was even good.

“Shit.” Pearl let out once her mouth was no longer full. “That isn’t half bad. Taste it?” With excitement, she handed off her fork to Harry.

He took no pause in eating some, nodding along as he chewed. “Not half bad at all, Pearl.”

At that point she just couldn’t help it, too giggly and impressed with herself to hold in the squeal that was destined to be released. And then, out of fucking nowhere, she was wrapping her arms around Harry’s shoulders for a celebratory hug. Harry was quick to respond, laughing so pleasantly and holding her middle tight, barely lifting her feet from the ground.

Off to the side, where the other students sat, loud clapping and whistling sounded. Pearl backed out of Harry’s arms, her grin not leaving even if she felt like it should’ve. Pearl wasn’t one to feel shame - not for successfully cooking something and definitely not for hugging someone when she wanted to.

And if the rosey cheeks and dimples Harry was sporting was any indication, he wasn’t one to feel it either.

—

“Where is everyone?” Pearl questioned, entering the bakery that was completely empty except for Harry, who was sitting on his stool, going through what looked to be a recipe book.

He looked up and smiled. “The guys rescheduled for next weekend, Maxine got called in for work, Jill had to take her son somewhere, and Kathy got sick. They’ve been calling throughout the week and dropping like flies.” Something about his face read disappointment, but then a shrug of the shoulders washed that away.

“Aw, that’s sad.” Pearl puffed her lip out, thinking about the four older, lovely people she had grown a distant but unique bond with over the last month. “I won’t see them again.”

“I’m sure you will. The next time you take one of my classes will be a perfect time.” Harry closed his book and rounded the counter, standing next to Pearl.

Pearl shook her head. “I’m not so sure there will be a next time.”

“Is that right?” Harry faked offense, to which Pearl nodded with a straight face. “Well I think you’ll change your mind after today.”

“Oh? And why’s that?”

“Pie.” He said, lifting up a pie pan in one hand and a rolling pin in the other.

And that was something she could get behind, definitely one of the main reasons she convinced herself to go to this class in the first place. She couldn’t keep a bland expression at the concept of her being able to make her favorite kind of dessert. When he told her what kind they’d be making, she tried to pretend she wasn’t jumping for joy on the inside.

Side by side, Harry talked her through each step of the pie making process. They started with a crust, mixing the ingredients slowly as to not make it too crumbly. Once it was just combined, Harry urged her to use her hands to flatten the dough before rolling it out. This time she didn’t need Harry to cheekily wrap his arms around her so it would go right, it just did on it’s own. With much care, she carefully put the pie crust into the pan and into the oven to bake it while they made the filling.

That part was a little more complicated. It required heating lemon juice, zest, dry ingredients, and water in a saucepan until it boiled. Once it did, she had to “temper” the eggs and pour them into the mixture. After a little bit, it thickened and Harry made sure she pulled it off of the heat. She poured that into the crust Harry had removed from the oven, and then all that was left was making the meringue.

That required whipping four eggs until they became foamy. Harry kept warning her to get the “peaks” just right so they would brown in the oven. She kept telling him to do it himself if peaks were so important to him. He didn’t, and shut up as she kept whipping.

Before she even realised it, Pearl’s first pie was browning in the oven and they were cleaning up the mess. Together, it didn’t take too long.

The pie was done quicker than she had assumed it would take. And Harry was cutting slices out of her first lemon meringue.

Again, that anxiety of it tasting awful washed over her, but after one bite, she had to pat herself on the back. Sure it wasn’t the best pie this world had ever seen, but she was impressed. And just like before, Harry did a slow nod after taking a bite, probably something he learned from his teachers at culinary school.

“Well, the meringue could’ve been stiffer.” Harry judged through his bite of pie. “Other than that, not bad.”

Pearl caught the innuendo, even if it wasn’t meant to be one.

“Oh, the peaks weren’t stiff enough for you?” Pearl questioned from the other side of the counter, watching the boys eyes lower to pie that sat between them.

“Not quite.” He barely moved his head left to right.

“Do you flirt with everyone you teach?” She let her hips rest against the bench of the counter, not being able to resist the look in her cooking instructors eyes - something that said he couldn’t resist the look in hers.

“I try, but the other ladies weren’t as receptive.”

“I’m not receptive.”

“Then why are you leaning in?” He moved his eyes down her body, her body that was nearly bent over to be closer to him even though the counter was in the way.

Pearl coughed and backed off, noticing that maybe she was being a little too forward, that maybe she wasn’t thinking everything through. “You’re a little too young for me, don’t you think?”

“What do you mean?” Harry backed up too, but just to walk around the counter and get even closer than before, and with nothing obstructing his path this time. “There is no way you’re that much older.”

Pearl rested her hand on one hip. She wasn’t for sure they had a huge age difference, but she knew she had a few years on him. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-two.” He said without taking a beat.

“I’m an entire high school experience older than you.” Pearl exclaimed. Four years didn’t seem so much to her, not really, but normally boys younger than her didn’t even appear on her radar and here she was fixated on the rough red lips of this one.

“Oh god, four years.” Harry placed one hand over his mouth, acting like he said a curse of some sort and regretted it dearly. “Should I call life alert now?”

And then Pearl was laughing, fed up with his smart mouth, but simultaneously enjoying the way it looked when he cracked some dumb joke.

“Shut up.” She demanded, pushing him away by the shoulder.

“No seriously, I wouldn’t want you to break a hip and not be able to get help.” He recovered lost ground, inching closer and joking all the while. “Maybe we should look up those automatic chairs that can ride you up a flight of stairs. Do you have stairs in your flat?” Pearl wouldn’t dignify that with a response. “But seriously, Pearl.” Harry shook his curls. “Four years is nothing at our age.”

“I don’t know.” Pearl pretended to think it over. Really, she kind of made her mind up when he started bringing up her hips. “I’m quite the cougar, aren’t I?”

“I’m not opposed.” Harry took a step.

Pearl grabbed at the sides of his apron, holding them just to have something in her hands. “I bet you are, culinary master.”

“I’m glad Jill isn’t here to hear you talk so dirty.” He murmured with a playful grin.

“The sad thing is, that probably is dirty talk to you.” Pearl kept her volume low, matching his as they moved just that much closer, now so close they could almost taste the pie on each other’s lips.

Harry shrugged, unashamed for who he was, licking his lips like a tease. Pearl couldn’t hold it back any longer, the curiosity too intense to play this game. She slotted their lips together in one quick movement.

Harry tasted just like she imagined - sugary and tangy, equaling out to be just right. It was intoxicating in every sense of the word, making her feel so high she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stop. Good for her, Harry didn’t seem to want to slow down any more than she did, sliding his tongue slowly into her mouth when she let her lips part invitingly, sliding his hands underneath the bottom of her shirt to better grip her hips.

Pearl took that as a sign for wanted closeness so she pushed her body flush against his, wrapping her arms around his neck. A moan escaped her involuntarily when Harry hooked her knee around his body and sat her on the flour covered bench. That action alone was enough to drive her crazy, making her yearn for a taste of every part of Harry’s skin.

She was nipping at his collarbone, untying his apron - the damned thing that could only look so good on a beautiful boy like him, when Harry stopped her hands. “Maybe we should… cool it?”

“Cool it?” She whispered out between warm bites.

“Yeah. Sex at the place that I work and the counter I make cupcakes on isn’t quite up to health code.” That fact looked physically painful leaving Harry’s reddened mouth.

As much Pearl didn’t really want to stop, she knew they had to, or at least for now.

“So then where would it be acceptable, culinary master?” Pearl smirked, hopping off the counter and skimming her hands up his torso, then around his waist, retying his apron so he could retain that last little bit of professionalism.

He tangled their fingers together and whispered, “Follow me.”

#1dff #i just wanted it on my tumblr lol #again #im sure everyone has already seen it but here it is:)#dont both of these oneshots kinda end the same #my bad!!!!!#im basic af

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