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poguestvff · 3 years ago

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LIKE A BIG SISTER SHOULD — WHEEZIE CAMERON

in which wheezie cameron finds that blood doesn’t make you family, love and affection does.

taglist | masterlist | 2.5k words | @pogueslandia ,

warning(s): food, she/her pronouns, ward slander, a little sarah slander but that’d include reading between the lines. why’d this make me want to make a series of reader and Wheezie being best friends.

There's always been a heavy feeling of loneliness that rested upon the youngest cameron's shoulders, weighing her down as it seemed to pile over the years. Her siblings were always older, an age gap between them that even if it was shortened by a few years, their worlds would still be two different things. All three of them were in three different stages of life yet somehow it felt like Wheezie wasn't even there at times.

Throughout the entirety of her schooling career so far, everything had somehow been about Rafe and Sarah. Sarah was the perfect one; the paragon who could do no wrong. Even if Sarah tried to disobey, it'd be turned around to be made out as a minute mistake. She'd probably be able to get away with it a second time if she did it a different way. Maybe the same way.

Rafe was quite the opposite. The bastard child who needed a plentiful amount of attention in hopes he can be more like the paragon. With all this attention, his head only grew. It never gave him the space for growth. It minimized the space to stay exactly where he was for years on end.

This left Wheezie to be the ostracized sibling. She wasn't a social butterfly or a poster child like Sarah and she definitely wasn't a loner or the 'damaged goods' child like Rafe. She was just... average. With average grades and an average personality. Just average old Wheezie. She told herself this consistently, watching her father balance his attention between making sure Rafe stayed between the lines he'd drawn for him in a radius such as a dart board and allowing Sarah step out of them, even erasing some of the lines so she could walk on by them without a second thought.

But Wheezie was stuck in that tiny little circle in the middle, the bullseye as if scared to move out of those lines. The one place that was the hardest to pinpoint specifically by her father. But there was one thing Ward Cameron always said correct about his younger daughter. That he wouldn't be able to pin point his little dart of control into the middle of the board because she was misunderstood and misunderstood she was.

Though one person had been able to pick up on every single one of Wheezie's emotions.

Y/n Y/L/N was a pogue who had done tutoring on the side for a little extra money and when John B had recommended Y/n for help with Wheezie's homework, Ward was quick to say okay. He hardly even asked a thing about Y/n, just telling her to help Wheezie pass eighth grade and that was all. It was made very apparent to Y/n that was Wheezie was not as much of a priority to Ward as other things were.

Their first tutoring session, Wheezie was awfully dismissive. She didn't care for any of Y/n's efforts as they sat within the comfort of Wheezie's bedroom. She just wanted the entire hour to be over with the second she'd entered her room but Y/n was insistent, knowing that by the end of the school year she would have something instilled in Wheezie's brain. She just didn't know what that something was yet.

The second time they met, Y/n was more passive aggressive in hopes of breaking down the brick walls Wheezie had stored between her and everyone else in hopes of not disappointing them like the way she thought she'd disappointed her father. Y/n sat her down in her desk chair, swiveling her chair to her as she rested her hands on the younger girls shoulders. "You are going to have a really awkward couple of weeks if you and i don't become friends so no work today. We're playing 20 questions."

That night, Y/n learned a lot about Wheezie Cameron that she never thought she'd learned. Wheezie hated the color purple, she just painted her room that color because Sarah liked that color. Wheezie loved to paint and to draw, it was her favorite activity, she just rarely showed it bevause she hadn't believed in herself. Though, when she showed Y/n the canvas' that were shoved at the back of the closet, Y/n marveled at them. But Y/n's favorite fact, and the same one that almost made her hug Wheezie on the spot, was that she was never taught to swim and Y/n made her a promise that she would teach her.

As the weeks went by, Wheezie waiting anticipatingly for Y/n's beaten down, green ford bronco to pull up on the driveway and she'd leave the house with a giant smile on her face. It’d be early in the morning, a little less than an hour until school started, just like how Wheezie liked. She'd jump in the driver seat, embracing the smell of vanilla from the scented item hanging from the rear view mirror. She’d toss her bag to the back as Y/n would ruffle her hair, just like she had every morning. "And beloved was set in... late 1856!" Wheezie answered excitedly as Y/n drove down the final street towards her school after the two had gotten breakfast together.

"Perfect! You're gonna do so good on your test, Wheeze, I promise." Y/n told her ecstatically as she pulled into a parking space. Just before Wheezie could get out, Y/n held her upper arm just to gain her attention before she got out. "Tell Rose she doesn't have to get you after school. I'll leave school early and you and I are having a girls day. No studying, just me, you and a shit ton of sweets."

Wheezie smiled, she could feel the muscles in her jaw begin to hurt from how wide she had. She tilted her head to the side out of curiosity, eyeing the look of excitement on Y/n's face. "But why?"

Y/n shrugged, adjusting in her seat and fixing her rear view mirror. "Cause, you deserve it. I'm so proud of you, Little W." She told her, looking back towards the girl and seeing her smile slightly drop. "You okay?"

Wheezie couldn't remember a time where she was genuinely told that. Yeah, sure, Ward said it a few times but it'd be in a lousy tone before he'd wave her off, saying he was busy with whatever office work he had to attend to. Sarah may have said it a few times but it was rushed before she'd run after her friends with a quick goodbye to Wheeze, leaving her alone in the sand. It was never sincere. Not in the way Y/n had said it.

She rubbed her hands against her jean clad thighs with a sharp breath before nodding. “Yeah. I've just never really been told that before. Like—Like genuinely." She said, lowly, in hopes Y/n would understand and wouldn't push it.

Y/n had known Wheezie long enough to know her tells and avoiding eye contact was one of the biggest ones. So she didn't indulge further in the conversation, brushing it under the rug but knowing she'd have to go diving back in for that little tidbit later on. Instead she wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a tight hug from over the console. "I'll tell you i'm proud of you everyday if i have to." Y/n muttered before kissing the top of her head. "Now go, if you're late to first period, your dad will kill me." And Wheezie was able to leave the car with a smile on her face, already looking forward to the day planned later on.

Y/n was overall consistent, it was one thing Wheezie enjoyed knowing that when she made promises she tried to keep them as best as she could. Sometimes things slipped her mind but Wheezie could recognize that Y/n didn't forget a thing when it came to Wheezie. Like she made sure to engrave bits and pieces of her into her mind like a data chart. But it showed she cared and that was enough for Wheezie.

Y/n cared enough that when she entered her car after school, the smell of her favorite cinnabon's filled the car that made her look in the backseat, seeing a picnic basket. There wasn't a chance, right? You could only get them on the mainland. She turned her body swiftly towards the elder girl who sat with a smirk on her face. "You didn't?"

"I did. Second I left fourth period, got on a ferry just for you to have those overly sweet treats." Y/n said, tapping her nose with a 'boop'! "And I almost got stuck on the mainland because of it so you better enjoy the hell out of them."

"I will, I promise." Wheezie said dramatically as Y/n smiled, pulling out of the parking space to head down to the beach. Wheezie had said she didn't have a bathing suit, not prepared for the outing, though Y/n already said she had ransacked her room for clothes for after. Y/n was the only person allowed in Wheezie Cameron's room without Wheezie being there and the elder girl took pride in it.

As Y/n set up their small area for the few hours, she noticed Wheezie standing just where the water and the sand met. She kicked around the water with clear disinterest causing Y/n to huff, hands on her hips, before tossing off her hoodie to get in. The splash she'd made by pushing herself into the water made Wheezie jump, a laugh falling from the two's lips. "Come on." Y/n said, standing and holding her hands out to Wheezie.

"Y/n/n, I can't swim."

"Y/n/n I can't swim, well, obvi, i know that, little W. But, you have your amazing best friend to keep you afloat. I won't let you go, i swear." Y/n said, holding up her pinky.

"Swear?"

"On my life." She reassured with a trusting smile before Wheezie walked further in. When the water had gotten to her above her waist, it'd freaked her out a bit though Y/n talked her through it, coaxing her further in slowly. Wheezie was kept above the water as Y/n held her hands as the buoyancy was used to their advantage. "See, not as bad as you thought?"

Wheezie shook her head though still nervous. "Not as bad, not my thing though."

"Why don't we try actually swimming? I won't force you if you don't want to and we can get back to shore right now but maybe just try?" She asked as Wheezie had to think about it for a moment. She almost felt guilty, remembing just a few months ago when Sarah had asked her if she could teach her but she refused. Though maybe, just maybe, it was because of Y/n being a bit more trust worthy that Wheezie said yes this time.

It took a while, Wheezie was frightened by letting go even as Y/n would say she was okay. Wheezie would tighten her grip on her shoulders before trying again and again until she eventually got it. She finally was able to keep herself above the water without flailing, recognizing that she was okay. Y/n cheered as she watched, not caring for the stares of others around them. "See, dude? You just have to start applying yourself! You did it!"

"I did it!" Wheezie said as Y/n hugged her, the two laughing before Wheezie screamed making Y/n's laughter die fast. "Something touched me!"

"Wheeze, it was seaweed." Y/n said softly before turning and letting her place her hands on her shoulders. "Yeah let's get you out of here before a jellyfish gets you."

Wheezie widened her eyes. "Jellyfish?"

As the sun had began to set and people had packed up their things and left, Y/n and Wheezie stayed. Wheezie was on her fourth doughy treat, even though Y/n told her to slow down two treats ago. Towels were wrapped around each of their shoulders as they watched the pretty colors fade in to one another, a mixture of pink, blue and orange array of colors combining to make a cotton candy sky. Wheezie watched as Y/n got up, accepting a phone call from Ward, the only phone call she hadn't silenced since they'd left the car.

In the time she'd left, Wheezie took advantage of it to recognize how appreciative she was of all that Y/n was doing for her. She came in as a tutor and, to Wheezie, was to stay as a friend. As family. Wheezie was more then ecstatic to have someone who would be there to rant and rave about the other Cameron's, someone she could trust with her secrets and the contents of her always running brain. Someone who was just there.

"Hey, your father would like us back in thirty so we should leave in ten." She said coming back and sitting beside Wheezie as she caught sight of her face, the lack of the smile that was there previously concerning her. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing, really. Just... I really enjoyed today, Y/n. It really lets me know you're not just here for like... like the money or something."

Y/n let out a scoff. "Are you kidding? I enjoy nothing more than watching you freak out over the existence of jellyfish." She joked as Wheezie pushed her to the side with a laugh. Y/n recovered, letting out a content sigh as she tossed an arm over Wheezie's shoulders. "You're stuck with me now, Wheezes. Can't wait to record you falling at your next soccer game."

Wheezie couldn't help the laugh that slipped past her lips, leaning into Y/n's embrace as her head rested against her clavicle. "And I'll be looking for you in the stands, Y/n/n."

Y/n and Wheezie had both found out something about the other that night. Wheezie found that she didn't want to be like Sarah and she was glad she wasn't like Rafe. She was content with her own little circle on the dart board but maybe she could take a bit after her newest role model. And Y/n found that she was able to instill several things into the youngers mind including To Kill a Mockingbird, Inca Civilizations, and that she now had a true and present big sister to look up to.

#outer banks x reader #outer banks #outer banks imagine #jj maybank #wheezie cameron #wheezie cameron x reader #rafe cameron #sarah cameron

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uramichislefttiddie · 3 years ago

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Blue lock random head cannons (:

||Contains: Meguru Bachira, Yoichi Isagi, Rensuke Kunigami||

||Warnings: fluff if anything||

Meguru Bachira

No matter if you have long or short hair, he will always want to style your hair for you wether that ranges from dying it to just simply tying it up or curling it etc. However most of the time he will want you to style his hair after he’s done yours, he especially loves the feeling of your fingers messing with his hair. If your sat down doing something always expect for Bachira to rest his head in your lap waiting for you to comb through his hair with your fingers and if you still haven’t done so he will start messing with your fingers hoping you get the message.

It was a late Saturday evening around the time dusk was settling into the day, the orange shade breaking through the pristine glass of the window that rested behind you and Bachira. You had been playing (choice of game) for the past few hours as Bachira was eating about the 3rd can of pineapple trying his hardest to not spill any of the juice anywhere as he fine well knew you’d make him clean it up and at that moment he’d like to avoid cleaning at all costs. You had started to slowly become bored, the silence now finally getting to you. As you turned your head to look at Bachira he was still stuffing his face full of pineapple. No matter what he always had that bright smile that had entranced you from the first day you both had set eyes upon one another.

“Bachira that’s the last can, you’ll make yourself sick soon!” He slightly turned his head in your direction, cheeks puffed with a small grin accompanying his face. You turned back to your game making a new goal of at least finishing this one level before doing anything else. After awhile still having not accomplished the goal you soon felt a slight weight on your lap, Bachira was staring up at you waiting for you to realise what he was wanting. You had known for awhile now that combing his hair was the easiest way to get him asleep. However you were very fixated on doing this one level and to your knowledge you had failed to realise Bachira was wanting attention.

Just as soon as you were about to compete the one level you had been struggling on a soft hand had grabbed at yours removing it off the controller and resulting in you dying once more.

“The hell Bachira! What was that for?” You hadn’t meant to shout at him but it was during the moment after all day you were so close to finishing what you had been wanting to finish.

“Ah, sorry y/n I forgot you were playing that, I’m really sorry!” You could tell he was sorry as he was looking at your with saddened eyes.

“Eh, it’s alright just please ask me next time that’s all you need to do.” You gave him a small smile as you laid his head back onto your lap and started to massage his head as he slowly closed his eyes soon falling to a soft slumber.

Yoichi isagi

Isagi is very skilled in art, at the beginning of your relationship he had a small sketch book he would carry about and inside that book unbeknownst to you was little doodling’s of you at different angles and at different locations you two would go together so he could remember these moments. After awhile being in the relationship he asked could he draw you to which you agreed and ever since than he loves drawing you when he has the spare time.

It had been about 5 month’s since you and isagi started dating, you was both sat down in the grass watching the sunset, both of you were occupying yourselves with things that interested you both, art being isagi’s. for awhile now you you felt as if someone kept looking at you, but you didn’t want to suspect that straight away.

“Hey…y/n can i- wait never mind it doesn’t matter.” Spoke a soft voice from next to you, you looked to the direction the voice came from and tilted your head in a confused state.

“What is it Isagi?” You gave him a soft, reassuring smile. He opened his mouth hesitantly and looked anywhere except from you. “Hey you can tell me you know?”

“It’s just I was gonna, well, ask if I could draw you?” You started to giggle slightly and looked at him. “Of course you can Isagi, you don’t need to ask me!” Isagi turned away shyly recounting all the times he’s done a quick sketch of you previously. He quickly smiled at you and turned around to grab ahold of his bigger sketch book and a few different pencils. He soon started to sketch you making sure to take into account all of the details on your face. About 20 minutes later he tucked the rest of the equipment into a small backpack and closed the sketch book, you turned a confused look to him wondering why he isn’t showing you, soon enough Isagi had caught onto your puzzled face. “Oh I’m going to give it to you on your birthday alongside with many more things!” He said with much enthusiasm and a big smile with puppy dog eyes. “But my birthday isn’t for a few more months!” You whined at him. He let out a laugh and shuffled to you and gave you a quick kiss. “Yeah exactly it gives me more time to make it the best for you!”

Rensuke kunigami

So in his trivia section is said the last time he cried was when watching E.T, so whenever you two end up watching movies he always hides the disc for E.T as he doesn’t want you to know he cries at the movie. To him he feels as if he has this certain image he needs to uphold. If you were to ever ask about if he has the disc for E.T he’d straight away make an excuse wether it’s believable or not like one time he made the excuse that “he dropped it in soup and it stained the disc” You had to just play along and believe him obviously.

As you walked back into the living room with hands full, consisting off a bowl of popcorn and two drinks of your choice, kunigami was across the room frantically searching for something within the pile of dvds he had in a glass shelf. “Hey kunigami, you alright over there?” You had questionably asked in his direction whilst placing down the products onto the oak table resting infront of the rather large couch. “Oh uh I was just trying to re arrange the dvds so it’s easier for you to choose one!” He quickly explained whilst scratching the back of his head and giving you a not so reassuring look. You decided to just ignore him and carry on setting up the movie night layout. Kunigami was starting to walk up the stairs making you even more confused with his behaviour. “Hey where you off to, your acting quite odd?” He halted in place and slowly turned around to face you with a surprised look plastered across his face. “Uh just going to the toilet quickly.” He carried on walking upstairs leaving you to pick out a film to watch. As you sauntered over to the shelf’s you started to scan looking for one specific you had been meaning to watch for awhile now, no matter how much you looked you could just not find it despite remembering seeing the dvd many of times.

Footsteps were heard behind you followed by two arms wrapping around your figure. “You found one to watch yet.” You soon started to piece things together and turned to him with a snark on your face. “Yeah where did you put E.T too kunigami? I know you have it so don’t pretend you don’t.” As soon as those words left your mouth his face dropped of colour and eyes went big. “Oh I…yeah I accidentally sat on it the other day and broke it in half, sorry y/n.” You started laughing and playfully pushed him making him look at you confused. “No need to hide the fact you’ve hid it, your sister already told me about the time you cried whilst watching it kunigami!” He stared at you for what seemed like hours but soon enough he let out a laugh and his cheeks accompanying a bright red tint. “Hey I told her to keep that a secret damn it!” He looked at you for a second than went running back upstairs and bringing down the dvd and waving it about in your direction. One second you had seen kunigami walking down the stairs than within a blink of an eye he had fell on the stairs laughing as he did so. “Well…here it is!” You ran over to him making sure he wasn’t hurt but not being able to hold in the laughter that was wanting to escape. “Hey if you cry, I’ll be right there!” You said almost mockingly. He whipped his head to you with an unamused look. “haha very funny but keep this between us! I don’t want no one else to know this.” You gave him one more look before walking over to slot in the disc for E.T to start playing, as you went to go lay down on the couch you turned to look at kunigami who was still situated at the bottom of the stairs where his fall had ended at. “Oh yeah thank you for the help!” He shouted whilst laughing, you soon laughing back.

#blue lock #anime #rensuke kunigami #yoichi isagi #bachira meguru #blue lock x reader #x reader #anime x reader #anime x y/n #anime x you #anime x gender neutral reader #manga x reader #anime / manga

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago

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Unfettered - part 2 - previous parts: on ao3 or tumblr part 1

It’s time. Come back.

Awareness came slowly and fitfully.

His body felt heavy, weighed down - it was as if his spirit had gone roaming freely and returned only reluctantly, sinking back into the skin and bone and flesh that bound it, the return voluntarily but begrudging, like an ox submitting to the yoke or a donkey to its bridle. There were times when he was there, awake but unable to get up the strength even to open his eyes, only barely aware of the world around him in the murmur of voices, the smell of food, the consistent feeling of spiritual energy being transferred into his body. There were times he was not awake at all.

One day, he heard a child laugh.

That was strange enough to catch his attention – it had been a long time since there were children here in the place where he slept, a place so familiar to him that he could feel where he was in his bones. It had been even longer since there were children who laughed.

It’s time. Wake up.

He did not wake all at once. It was a gradual process, slow – he had to struggle against the infinite heaviness of his eyelids, the sopor that kept trying to steal him back into the dark, but he did struggle. He tried, he strained, he pushed, he forced.

He summoned the rage that was his birthright and said to his body, we have been friends these many years, I have honed you as I did a beloved blade, you will not stand in my way in this.

He woke.

A child was laughing.

“Be careful, A-Song,” a voice, unfamiliar to him but gentle, said. It was male, young, and kind. He thought perhaps he had expected someone else. “Remember, you must not disturb the array.”

“I won’t touch it, gege,” the child said cheerfully. “I’ll be good, and then A-Ling will come visit us!”

“When he can, A-Song. It may not be for a while, because of the war…”

A weight settled on his chest at the word – war – and he almost lost his will to wake, not wanting to return to everything that word entailed: the pressure of all the expectations that rested on his shoulders, the stress and fear of the decisions he was forced to make, the guilt at each life lost and the butchers’ bills that piled up on his desk, the exhaustion and pain that followed the slog of life at the battlefront, adrenaline melting away to leave him feeling vacant and empty…

Duty was duty, though. Even in war.

Especially in war.

He forced his eyes open, staring at the ceiling for long moments as the noises of a child playing continued around him, the soft voice alternatively praising and gently chiding him. After a while, his gaze stabilized enough for him to recognize that above him was his own ceiling in his own room in his own home.

He could always tell, thanks to the drawings right above his face – his brother had once insisted on sitting on his shoulders while he stood on the bed so that he could reach the ceiling to carve something into the wood and stone. Something that would make him smile every morning that he opened his eyes, his brother claimed, his own eyes curved into a smile of his own, and he had never been able to resist his little brother anything that would make him happy.

He swallowed several times, wetting his throat, and asked in a voice little better than a rasp, “How goes the war?”

He meant where is my brother, is he well, is he whole, he meant what has happened to my sect, he meant what has happened to me. But duty called, and so he asked instead – how goes the war.

It helped, he supposed, that the words were familiar on his tongue, even as his throat and lips ached the strain of having to speak for the first time in what must have been a while. How goes the war – it had been his watchword for years now, all throughout the Sunshot Campaign and even before, the first question in the morning and the last question at night. How goes the war.

“Gege! Gege!” the child shrieked. “He said something!”

“No, I – but…did… – Sect Leader Nie…?” The unfamiliar voice was deeply surprised, almost shockingly so – how long had he been asleep? “Sect Leader Nie, did you say something? Please confirm.”

Sect Leader Nie.

Yes, that was how they called him. That was who he was: Sect Leader Nie, Chifeng-zun.

Nie Mingjue.

He had forgotten it, for a moment, the name and the weight of it, all the responsibilities that went with it, but now he remembered.

Nie Mingjue struggled to force himself up on his elbows, trying to look further around the room – it felt like the hardest thing he’d ever done, harder than moving through waist-deep muck through a swamp, which he’d also done, more than once.

As he’d expected, there was a man there, and a child. Both were unfamiliar to him, he thought, even if he did not entirely trust his memory at the moment. They were both gaping at him.

Well, gaping at his general direction, in the case of the man. He was dressed in white, like the Lan sect did, but the narrow band of white that they had in common encircled his eyes, not his forehead – he was blind.

No, Nie Mingjue was sure of it now: this man was totally unfamiliar to him.

The child was, too, but that was less of a surprise, given that he was only two or three at the utmost, the age children changed the most, and after all Nie Mingjue had been away fighting the wars for several years; it was reasonable not to recognize him.

But a man he did not recognize, here, in his own bedroom..?

“The war,” he rasped again, and swallowed to try to clear his throat. That was the only thing he could think of that might explain it. “My brother…?”

“Oh,” the man said, not especially intelligently. “The Pallbearer isn’t here – he’s away. There’s a war.”

The – what?

Nie Mingjue narrowed his eyes and forced them to focus, realizing that what he had taken for a man was little more than a teenager, certainly younger than twenty. Old enough to fight in the war, regrettably, but he supposed the blindness might keep him from it. It was sometimes hard to tell, with cultivators, how much they would be impacted by something like that.

“My brother,” he insisted. He wasn’t dead; what did he care about where some pallbearer - technically, the phrase meant ‘virtuous mourner’, or possibly ‘person whose virtue is in their mourning’, but either way it was a strange appellation - was? What he wanted was – “My brother.”

The child had been hiding behind the young man in white, but he popped his head around to stare at him, tugging at the young man’s robes. “Isn’t he Nie-er-ge’s brother?”

“Yes, he is,” the man said automatically, then flushed, ducking his head. He was very handsome, almost pretty, and at some point when Nie Mingjue didn’t feel like drowning in his own exhaustion he would spare a bit more time to wondering why he had been left here at his bedside, whether it was because he was the only one who could be spared or if it was for his own protection or both. “Ah, forgive me, Sect Leader Nie, of course you wouldn’t – your brother is away at the moment, but I will send him word at once. He’ll be so happy to hear that you’ve awoken.”

Nie Mingjue let himself slide back down from his elbows, his most severe worry assuaged – Nie Huaisang was alive, he was fine, he was safe. That was good.

Now he could concern himself with the war, he supposed. Although…

“Wasn’t the war…over?” he asked the ceiling. He thought he remembered that it was, the vague memories of seeing Wen Ruohan’s body hit the floor burnt into his brain as if with a brand – it was so different from what he had dreamt of for so many years that he thought it must be true. And with Wen Ruohan dead, his sons dead, who would continue to fight? Some small pockets of the truly devoted, maybe, but surely not the bulk of the forces…?

He didn’t remember. There was something there just beyond his memory, and he was abruptly struck with the feeling that he wasn’t sure he wanted to remember.

There was a whisper of cloth, the man beside him shifting from side to side in awkwardness. Probably trying to decide if he should stand here and answer questions or go to send out the alert about his reawakening at once.

“You are correct, Sect Leader Nie,” he finally said. “The Sunshot Campaign ended…it’s a new war.”

A new war, Nie Mingjue thought, and closed his eyes for a brief moment to stave off the pain of it. It wasn’t that he hadn’t discussed the possibility that something like that would happen with his sect’s elders during his war counsels, the fact that wrecking the established system of the Five Great Sects might lead to a power vacuum and more fighting, but the alternative of submitting to Wen tyranny had been worse; they had had no choice but to hope that their worst fears would not come to pass.

In vain, it seemed.

“I should – go tell someone,” the young man said. “I’ll go –”

“Go,” Nie Mingjue agreed. “Return after, and then you can…what’s your name, anyway?”

“Xiao Xingchen,” the young man said. “Disciple of Baoshan Sanren…you wouldn’t have heard of me. Your brother took me in after I lost my eyes.”

Baoshan Sanren? Another disciple of the immortal mountain? Surely Nie Mingjue would have heard of something like that happening – it would have been the talk of the cultivation world, ongoing war or no. But he hadn’t heard anything, and this Xiao Xingchen fellow didn’t expect him to. And that meant…

“How long have I slept?” he asked. No, not asked. Demanded.

“Oh, I definitely can’t answer that one,” Xiao Xingchen said, sounding genuinely distressed. “I’m going to go get someone who can.”

He dashed out of the room in a swirl of white that Nie Mingjue saw out of the corner of his eye. A moment later, he heard a small shuffling sound and, with a slight groan, lifted himself back up again to look at the child, who had lingered even after his guardian had departed.

The boy was wearing Nie colors in familiar styles – Nie Mingjue thought it might even be some of Nie Huaisang’s old clothes, which he’d found himself unable to throw away even after they’d long been outgrown. He’d ultimately ordered them to be stored in hopes of preserving it for the next generation - his son, or maybe his nephew.

The shape of the boy’s face wasn’t remotely Nie, though, so he thought perhaps he might be an orphan or something. Another person his brother had taken in, perhaps, the way he had the blind Xiao Xingchen?

Had his brother been forced to run the sect while he slept? He must have. That had been what Nie Mingjue had always intended for him, wanting his brother’s cool head to guide the next generation, but he had not thought that it would be so soon…he thought he would have time to help guide Nie Huaisang into being sect leader, to ease the way, to show him how things were done and what was important. To let him become the wonderful sect leader Nie Mingjue had always been sure he would be, the one their sect deserved –

He’d wanted to make the transition less abrupt than his own elevation to the position at his father’s death, to make sure the position of sect leader didn’t consume Nie Huaisang as it had Nie Mingjue, who didn’t have any hobbies or pastimes except for spoiling his little brother, Nie Mingjue who barely remembered what or who he was outside of the work he did.

He’d wanted to leave Nie Huaisang to govern their sect through a world of peace, not war.

Clearly he’d failed.

Despite these gloomy thoughts of his, he tried to smile at the child. “Hello,” he said. “Your name is – A-Song?”

The child nodded, edging closer – closer, but not too close, and the reason for his hesitation was clearly, upon further inspection, that he didn’t want to cross over onto the lines of the complicated array painted onto the ground around the bed. Nie Mingjue hadn’t seen it before, and he didn’t recognize it.

“What’s that for?” he asked, nodding at the softly glowing lines, which he could feel were full of spiritual power.

“It’s to make you feel better,” A-Song answered promptly in the know-it-all tone of a child who had clearly asked a similar question in the past. “Nie-er-ge repaints it all by himself every week, Xiao-gege helps keep it running, and I help, too!”

“You do?”

“Yeah! I’m the – the – I make it less boring!”

“Ah, I see! You’re the entertainment? That’s a very important job.”

A-Song nodded so rapidly that Nie Mingjue was slightly worried his head would come tumbling off his shoulders, and he had to suppress a smile at the sight. He’d always liked children, and this one seemed…strangely familiar, for all that Nie Mingjue was sure A-Song wasn’t a Nie.

“What’s your surname?” he asked, and A-Song frowned, scuffling one foot behind the other. “Don’t you know?”

“I know!” A-Song exclaimed. “It’s Jin! I’m Jin Rusong!”

Nie Mingjue could feel his eyes going wide in surprise, surprise and even shock that stabbed deeply into him. Ru- was the next generation’s name for the Jin sect, following after Zi- for the current generation and Guang- for the previous one – there had been much discussion of that towards the end of the last war, as it had been a clear insult framed as a compliment when Meng Yao had been offered the name of Jin Guangyao so shorty after the Nightless City.

Meng Yao -

The Nightless City, Wen Ruohan, Meng Yao…

Nie Mingjue remembered.

How could he not? In his memory, it had been only a few weeks before.

They had been mopping things up in the aftermath of Wen Ruohan’s death, and Nie Mingjue had been absent without leave from the medical tent more often than not, unable to refuse the calling of his duty even though his health (and any number of his subordinates) demanded he rest and recover. It hadn’t been easy: his mind had still been fuzzy from the aftereffects of the torment he’d suffered in and after Yangquan, the torture on the way to Wen Ruohan’s palace and again within it. The dizziness had impeded his ability to work, causing him to lose track of time or to grow abruptly distant and forgetful.

At the time, it had seemed that everything he remembered was unreliable – he’d thought, at first, that Meng Yao had done certain terrible things while he was in the Sun Palace, truly terrible and unforgivable things, the sorts of things that would make Nie Mingjue obligated to denounce him and Meng Yao worthy only of execution no matter what his good deeds might have been. But Meng Yao had said he was misremembering, that it hadn’t happened that way at all, that his mind was damaged from the torture and the fight with Wen Ruohan, and Lan Xichen had vouched for Meng Yao with all sincerity.

Nie Mingjue hadn’t been sure at first, had been so certain that he was right, that he remembered correctly and that Meng Yao was simply lying to him, but they had both seemed so sincere…and in the end Nie Mingjue hadn’t really wanted to believe that Meng Yao would do things like that anyway. He hadn’t wanted to think that someone he trusted would do that, that he’d so misjudged him. And that had made it – not easy, no, but it had made it make sense to accept their version of events over his own, even if it made him sick and anxious to think that his mind was so unreliable and untrustworthy.

Still, accepting it had meant that Nie Mingjue could agree to swear brotherhood with Lan Xichen and Meng Yao, as they both wanted so very much. It meant he could congratulate Meng Yao when he received the letter indicating that he would soon be his father’s recognition and the name Jin Guangyao. It meant that he could invite him to dinner at his camp to raise a glass together in honor of his accomplishment, to wish him good fortune and the best of luck for his new life.

It meant that when, in the middle of their dinner together, the wonderful news came that Nie Fengjun and Nie Xiaopeng had survived their injuries at the Nightless City, the ones that had kept them bedridden for so long getting infusions of spiritual energy and being fed drugs to keep them asleep so that they didn’t tear their throats open again by trying to talk, he could smile at Meng Yao – no, Jin Guangyao, he had tried very hard to remember to call him that and had still mostly failed – and tell him with joy that there were two deaths he no longer had on his conscience.

He could ask him to wait a while when he went to talk to them, promising to return soon.

It meant that he could take a few steps towards the door, Baxia far away on her stand and not in his hand, his back unguarded against the man who had sworn before all the world to be his brother.

It meant that he could feel the cold string of the garotte when it settled over his throat and pulled tight, cutting off his air – that he could hear the humming of a Lan battle-song in his ear, the spiritual energy that he had been freely sharing with Meng Yao only moments before suddenly turned against him and starting to riot inside of him – the weakness inherent in his blood, the ancestral Nie tendency towards qi deviation, abruptly pressed upon and galvanized from within –

If you yell, the first person through the door will be your brother and I will gut him like a fish, Meng Yao had hissed in his ear, and Nie Mingjue had stopped struggling for just a moment, horrified by the thought.

Horrified at being attacked by someone who knew his most dangerous weaknesses.

By someone he trusted.

The pause had been a mistake, of course. There’d been poison on the garrote, he thought, and the battle song and his rioting qi had let it in easier than it might have otherwise.

Meng Yao really was a perfect assassin.

But why me, why now, I don’t want to go so soon, I haven’t even had a chance to live yet, he remembered thinking, more fear and hurt than anger, and then there was nothing but darkness.

And now –

And now there was a child called Ru-, the next generation down from Zi-, and he was already two or three of age.

“How long have I slept?” he demanded, struggling to sit up. “How long has it been? Huaisang!”

How long have I abandoned you?

Xiao Xingchen ran back into the room not long after, looking horrified by Nie Mingjue’s burst of temper, pointless and impotent as it was. “Sect Leader Nie, please calm yourself,” he exclaimed. “I’ve already sent word out, and I’m sure your brother will be here soon. Please, stop moving – don’t damage the array…!”

Nie Mingjue forced himself to calm, his fingers digging into the bedding as he fought to control his temper –

Now is not the time.

– but he finally managed with a few deep breaths to stop feeling as if he was drowning in dark thoughts, in fears, in horror at himself and what he had inadvertently allowed, at what he had lost.

A few breaths later, and he stopped struggling.

At that point, it occurred to him that something was strange.

Based on his experience with being injured, and with his warlike sect he had plenty of that, Nie Mingjue would have expected that a fit like the one he had just had would have meant that he’d be swarmed by doctors. That was what was usual for this sort of situations, a giant bevy of doctors always just a few steps away, standing at the ready to force opinions down his throat about what he should and shouldn’t be doing – that had been what it had been like with his father, at least at first, and then later on it had been something he had been forced to accustom himself to as sect leader.

(First rule of being sect leader: don’t get knocked unconscious if at all possible. Not because the sect won’t manage without you, but because you’ll have to deal with doctors fussing at you for ages thereafter.)

Strangely enough, though, this time the doctors didn’t come. It was only Xiao Xingchen, dropping down to survey the array with his fingers, murmuring and infusing it with bright and pure spiritual energy that Nie Mingjue could feel soaking into his meridians, into his bones and muscles and bones.

Presumably this was the reason his body had not atrophied, in the – it must have been years since he –

He took another deep breath.

“Forgive me,” he said to Xiao Xingchen, and then again to Jin Rusong, who was hiding behind something. “I did not mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine,” Jin Rusong said with a great deal of grace, and probably too much equanimity for someone his age. “I don’t mind. It happens.”

To so easily disregard such a show of temper suggested that the boy had either had a hard early life or very calm parents, or maybe both. Nie Mingjue did not like to think of it, although he himself had been quickly inured to such things, after his father…

Best not to think about that. Best not to think about how it might have – what might have happened to him, after Meng Yao’s surprise attack.

(He hoped that he had succumbed to the poison or the suffocation instead of the qi deviation, since Baxia had, he hoped, remained intact; he could not be sure of it, since the assassin had been Meng Yao, who had known how best to hurt him. He hoped that he did not linger - did not lose himself to rage - did not have to be put down - that Nie Huaisang had not had to make the choices he himself had long ago had to make.)

“You didn’t call for any doctors?” Nie Mingjue asked Xiao Xingchen, trying not to think about those foul memories and the dark suspicions that swirled in his mind.

“I have some medical skills,” Xiao Xingchen said. “Not…many, and not as many as I used to have, but some, if you’d like me to check you over?”

“I’m not concerned for me,” Nie Mingjue said, rolling his eyes. He’d propped himself up against the headboard, an activity that had drained most of his remaining energy. “I’m just – why didn’t you call any doctors?”

“Ah,” Xiao Xingchen said. “I see.”

“I’m glad that you understand,” Nie Mingjue said, eliding to mention the matter of sight. They were not on such familiar terms that he could make a joke over it, and it was clear from Xiao Xingchen’s occasional if very graceful clumsiness that the blindness was new. “Would you also like to elaborate?”

“Sect Leader Nie is off-limits to anyone without permission to enter,” Xiao Xingchen said, folding his hands in front of him. “Especially in the event that you wake up.”

“I understand,” Nie Mingjue said, and he did.

He had had some time to think about what had happened to him back then, about the timing of those two survivors from the Nightless City waking up and Meng Yao’s sudden attack – he still didn’t have any answers, didn’t understand why Meng Yao turned against him so suddenly, but he had his suspicions.

Suspicions - and regrets.

If he hadn’t chosen to believe Meng Yao over the evidence of his own eyes and ears, would he have ended up like this, leaving Nie Huaisang alone for years on end?

There wasn’t any point to that line of thinking, though. Might as well say that if Nie Mingjue hadn’t been conditioned for years and years by his sect to have a mortal fear of his own qi, filling him with terror that one day he would become like his father – sick, with a mind full of hallucinations tormenting him and leading him astray – then maybe he wouldn’t have been so ready to disregard his own perception in favor of another’s, and of course there was no one to blame for that.

“Your brother will be here soon,” Xiao Xingchen said. “And once he is, I’m sure he’ll want the doctors to look you over. It’s only, you understand, without him to supervise, he doesn’t – he –”

“He doesn’t trust anyone,” Nie Mingjue said, and felt a pang of grief. Nie Huaisang had always trusted more readily than he had, the extroverted younger brother to his introverted and even misanthropic elder. The differences between them had in large part been caused by Nie Mingjue’s elevation to sect leader – too soon, too fast – and the discomfort and distance that created between him and those he thought had been his friends. And now, to his regret, the position would have done its work on Nie Huaisang as well. “I understand.”

“I’m not sure if you do,” Xiao Xingchen said. “He trusts – quite a few people, I’d say. There’s his people in the sect, of course, his cousins and deputies and all that, but he’s also on very good terms with quite a lot of the cultivation world: Sandu Shengshou, Yiling Laozu, Zewu-jun, Hanguang-jun…almost all the important people, really.”

Nie Mingjue noted the absence of Jin Guangyao’s name or title.

Good.

“It’s just – you’re very important to him. More than you might think.”

“I raised him,” Nie Mingjue said. “From the time he was a child, he was my only family. The only things I had in life were my sect and him, and even my sect I wouldn’t have placed above him, and he knew it – I think I understand my importance to him. It’s the same for me, with him.”

“Perhaps,” Xiao Xingchen said, looking wistful. “Perhaps. That does explain rather a lot, I think.”

Nie Mingjue made himself more comfortable. “Who’s the child?” he asked. “He said he was surnamed Jin, but I assume the Jin sect is who we’re at war with?”

“You’re very perceptive,” Xiao Xingchen remarked. “How did you know?”

“The seeds of a new war can be found in the end of the last one,” Nie Mingjue said. “It would have always been the Jin sect. I’m surprised that it actually came to a head so soon, that’s all – they’ve always preferred being subtle and sly, politicking to outright fighting. I wouldn’t have thought they’d declare open war.”

“Why do you assume they were the ones who’d declare war?”

Because of who was left behind, Nie Mingjue thought. Lan Xichen who tries to see the good in everyone, Jiang Cheng who is insecure about what he can and cannot be, Wei Wuxian with his armies of the dead that he so very clearly never wanted…and my brother, who knows better.

My brother, who loves peace and hates war the way only a child born into the thick of it would; my brother, who’s so terribly clever underneath all his laziness; my brother who knows that war is fought as much in the hearts of men as on the battlefield –

No, he wouldn’t be the one to declare war.

Not even for me.

“Weren’t they?” he asked.

“Well, yes,” Xiao Xingchen said. “Although in fairness, they were provoked.”

Nie Mingjue was sure they were. His brother, probably, or maybe Wei Wuxian – they were good at provocation. They could find something that even the Jin sect couldn’t tolerate.

From the way Xiao Xingchen turned his head towards Jin Rusong, an instinctive gesture for all that he couldn’t see the boy, it might have something to do with him. A small child surnamed Jin, and yet embarrassed to admit it…there was a story there that he would eventually need to learn.

Just as he would eventually need to ask the practical questions – questions like who’s leading the war effort, since Jiang Cheng was good at battle but shit at strategy, Wei Wuxian who was too reckless and reliant on flashy tactics that wore him out, Lan Xichen who was better as a courier than a general, Lan Wangji who was too independent, a lone wolf who’d never learned how to compromise enough to join a team, how are we paying for it, the eternal question of supply even more critical for three weakened Great Sects when set against the richest of them all, and of course how can I help.

But he was tired, and did not ask. He would gather the energy for war later.

For now, he would be satisfied with something simpler, more straightforward: his brother’s well-being, confirmed not merely with words but by his own eyes, which he really ought to learn to trust.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed before there was a noise outside the door, and Xiao Xingchen brightened in evident relief. “He’s here! A-Song, come with me, come say hello –”

They went out, and a moment later, the door opened and Nie Huaisang walked in.

Attuned as Nie Mingjue was to movement, that was the first thing he noticed: that his brother walked differently than he had before. It was more purposeful, striding rather than ambling, sharp, with as little wasted movement as possible – angry, always angry, but contained. It was not at all what he thought of when he thought of Nie Huaisang, who was usually more aimless and carefree, limbs tumbling everywhere; it was far more similar to the way Nie Mingjue used to carry himself, seemingly relaxed but in fact on guard against the world at all moments.

Nie Huaisang’s face, too, was different than Nie Mingjue remembered it being: it was thinner, sharper than it had been, with narrowed eyes and lips pressed together, his whole demeanor distrusting and forbidding. The last bits of baby fat had melted away, taking with it the impression of softness and tenderness that he had once exuded, the lazy and indolent air that had made him seem younger than he was.

No longer was he the feckless young man the Nie Mingjue had so carefully protected from the horrors of the world, and the thought sent a pang of pain through Nie Mingjue’s heart.

And yet, when Nie Huaisang walked into the room, looking irritated and exhausted, and his gaze fell upon the bed where Nie Mingjue had lain for longer than he cared to think about, when he saw Nie Mingjue propped up and awake, when their eyes met for the first time –

It all melted away, the child he had held in his hands abruptly recognizable once more.

“Da-ge!” Nie Huaisang wailed, and threw himself forward into Nie Mingjue’s waiting arms, heedless of the array that Xiao Xingchen has so worried himself over, heedless of the shocked expression on both Xiao Xingchen and Jin Rusong’s faces, heedless any residual injuries in his urgency. “Da-ge!”

All the questions Nie Mingjue had, and he had a lot – who is the Pallbearer what is the war who is fighting who have we lost what happened to me what happened to you – dashed out of his head at once.

There was only one question that mattered – are you safe – and the answer to that was in his arms. He clutched his baby brother to his chest with all his greatly diminished strength, tears springing to his eyes just as they filled Nie Huaisang’s, and they wept with joy to see each other again.

It’s time. At last.

#mdzs #nie mingjue #xiao xingchen #nie huaisang #jin rusong #my fic #my fics #unfettered

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bloodypapercut · 4 years ago

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g.w. headcanons

i hope you all enjoy angels and here’s your daily reminder to take care of yourselves, you’re beautiful and deserve it!

word count: 1.3k

-george is a very sensitive and soft person. he tries his hardest to remain stoic because he never wanted to seem like the less fun twin. he loves fred with all his heart, but he was always treated like his shadow by people around them.

-when he met you it was so different. you never saw him as fred’s twin he was fred’s brother, just like ron or percy. you saw that he was his own person, not just a carbon copy of fred with the same traits.

-you appreciated his sensitivity, he was witty, sarcastic, kind, intelligent, level headed, altruistic, sensitive and so so so so much more.

-he knew he was different from fred but he never felt special

-you’d always shower him in love, and he does the same to you

-he’s more of a nonverbal communicator, he’ll look into your eyes and you can immediately tell what he’s thinking (usually among the lines of how much he admires, appreciates, and loves you) or he’ll hold you and you can just feel everything he wants to tell you, he holds you as if you’re a porcelain doll, he thinks you’re so precious and rare that he can’t stand the thought of you with any abrasions or pain

-he’s very clingy, but not in an overbearing way, he doesn’t hold you down

-he always has some form of physical contact with you, whether it be an arm wrapped around your waist or shoulders, or his hand tangled with yours, or your knees nudging together, or his head on your shoulder as he toys with the end of your sleeve

-when you two walk down the hallways together your pinkies are always locked, he prefers locking pinkies rather than holding hands

-he grabs your books and your bag even though you insist it’s fine, he never listens

-george is good at drawing, and his imagination and creativity is amazing

-he loves drawing you, in different styles. sometimes you’ll look like yourself or sometimes he’ll draw you as a cartoon frog or bunny

-you have a box filled with all his drawing consisting of things like you as a mushroom, you as a fairy, you as a giant destroying a building, your eyes, your hands, random landscapes of your favorite places to spend time together

- if you’re sitting together he’ll gently grab your arm and start drawing flowers, animals and messages. he’ll enchant them to move and it’s so pure you wish you could keep it forever

-whenever he’s drawing on his bed he’ll lay on his stomach and you’ll straddle his back and play with his hair, trying to braid it or just running your hands through it. whenever he’ll gasp due to an idea rushing to his mind you’ll lean down and peer over him to see his notebook, you’d admire him by stroking his forehead and leaning down to kiss him, his giggles ringing in your ears as your hair tickles his face

-he likes poking your cheeks a lot, usually with a pencil or his wand (that sounds wrong, take it how you will)

-you two always have competitions on who can make the weirdest face. usually on the common room couch, causing everyone around you two to either laugh maniacally or slowly walk out of the room hoping you two won’t notice their presence (you do but who cares you’re both happy)

“that’s not a weird face, you just look cute.”

“what do you mean? look.” you’d puff your cheeks harder and he’ll just mimic you

“awww georgie look at you, you’re like a hamster”

-frog hats, frog hats, frog hats

-george has a cottagecore aesthetic, hate to break it to you (as if we didn’t know this already)

-all the weasleys really enjoy nature but george just has a really big soft spot for it

-he’ll take you outside and you’ll pick flowers for eachother then exchange your bouquets, then you’ll sit down against a tree and probably fall asleep while leaning on him as he tries to braid the flowers in your hair

-you two have a journal that you pass back and forth and it’s filled with polaroids of you two, or just any memories that you want to remember, notes you pass eachother in class, pressed flowers and leaves, random postcards or magazine articles, lines of poetry that you write eachother, doodles of eachother, stickers

-one time fred and lee found the journal on george’s bed and they looked through it and even they found it adorable. despite that, they still took up an entire two pages mocking the two of you (obviously out of love)

-you always borrow his jumpers, he likes how you hands disappear in the selves, sometimes you wave the sleeves around and try to slap him with them, which results in him throwing you over his shoulder and tickling you

-when he cries it’s absolutely heartbreaking, he bottles everything up so when he cracks it’s so tragic to see. he’ll curl up under his blanket and sob, his breathing would be so heavy and when you walk in on him he’ll make haste to wipe his tears away and smile. you’d sit against the headboard and open your arms up to him, a silent confirmation that he can cry, that it’s okay, it’s healthy and normal. he’ll curl into your lap and start crying even more, his sobs shake the bed slightly and his tears roll down your thigh. you sit there silently while rubbing his back, it takes so much for you not to cry in that moment

-when his sobs die down he’ll look up at you with red eyes and he just looks devastated, you’ll smile softly add him and wipe his tears

“it’s okay angel, you do the same for me don’t ever feel guilty for being human. c’mon let’s shower okay?”

-if you’re sad he’s quick to notice, it’s almost immediate when you walk in that he can sense it. he’ll give you a questioning look and you’ll nod

-he strokes your hand and hums softly to you, he’ll run you a bath and read something to you because the distraction of his soft voice helps. when he notices your breathing becomes heavier he’ll hold your face and kiss the tears that start to roll down your cheek

-he likes calling you petal or bunny

-when you take naps he always wakes up before you and he’ll just look at you, but he’ll inevitably see how many things he can balance on you before you wake up (the answer is a lot)

-dance parties together even though you both look really odd to anyone walking in? yes, it’s a weekly ritual at this point

-pillow forts, they’re so extravagant that when fred and lee walk in they try to enter, which ends up in a war between them and you two but eventually you call a truce and build a big fort all together

-when you cuddle he likes to put his head on your chest because he wants to hear your heartbeat or he’ll lay his head on your thighs, but only if you’re comfortable

-no matter how long the two of you have been dating he will always ask for consent, if you’re about to kiss or make out or anything that he thinks you’d be apprehensive about he’ll either ask you or he’ll squeeze your wrist or look into your eyes for an answer

-when he just finished pulling a prank with fred and lee, he’ll run into your room panting, excited to share every detail with you but instead you’re paying attention to the random cuts or bruises on his body

“merlin! george are you okay?”

“what? yeah i’m good are you??”

“you have a gash.”

“oh that haha yeah it’s whatever, but listen about this prank love.”

-heartwarming conversions, normally very soppy, again what do you expect

“how do you do that?”

“...do what?”

“look like a literal goddess when you’re doing anything.”

#george weasley #george wealsey x reader #george wealsey imagine #george weasley headcanon #weasley twins #harry potter

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jigglypurin · 3 years ago

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Pokemon Yellow Version: Special Pikachu Edition

This one's a little longer, and even more rambly. Buckle in.

I made the very first friend I ever had in elementary school by turning to a random boy on the bus home and asking, "Hey, do you like Pokemon?"

Naturally, he said yes. His name was Tom. He ended up moving away a year later, but before he did, we had the best time two kindergarten-thru-1st Graders could. And Pokemon was a big part of it.

I don't think it needs any sort of introduction, but for consistency's sake: Pokemon Yellow is a 1998 monster collecting RPG for the Gameboy. Unlike Lego Racers, I don't remember actually getting the cartridge for Pokemon Yellow. I imagine it must've been a present along with my Gameboy color (purple translucent color) since I don't remember playing any monochrome Pokemon at all. Prior to that, I had a black Gameboy Pocket which I played my Tetris, Mickey's Dangerous Chase and Quest for Camelot on.

Pokemon Yellow Version: Special Pikachu Edition has its biggest draw for a kid living through the height of Pokemania right on the tin: Pikachu followed you around. I watched the Pokemon cartoon (It was just "the Pokemon cartoon" at the time. I was 5. I didn't know what an anime was.) whenever I managed to catch it on TV. I actually remember somewhat the night my parents rented Pokemon: The First Movie. Spoiler for a 23 year old movie: I literally, no exaggeration SCREAM cried when Ash died at the end. Like my mom had to come in and pause the movie and calm me down. Obviously, he ends up being fine and I settled but. Goddamn. That shit hurts when you're 5 y'know? Anyways.

As any fan of The Pokemon Cartoon would agree, Pikachu was the best. And so having a game where *you* start with an expressive, out-of-ball Pikachu just felt natural. I remember being stuck for a pretty long time at the true stumper of a puzzle that was "Old Man Lying Down in Viridian City". Again, I was 5. I had no clue. Eventually, I figured it out and I progressed into Viridian Forest. Having no idea whatsoever re: type relations, I remember catching a Pidgeotto in the forest, and grinding levels on it for *hours* upon *hours* until Gust was able to beat Brock, since Pikachu obviously couldn't affect ground-types (very disappointing to my Pokemon Cartoon watching self). That Pidgeotto would eventually evolve and become my very first ever level 100 Pokemon, but that's later.

Mt Moon was scary, but it had Clefairy and Team Rocket, so. Not all bad. I picked the Omanyte fossil. I always tried my hardest to get around fighting other trainers. I'm not really sure why. I think the sudden music change and forced interaction scared me? Especially if it was an offscreen trainer that it forces you to walk into the sight of. Cerulean City was cool. Getting the nugget from the bridge, Bill, getting Charmander *and* eventually Bulbasaur (which clearly meant Yellow was the superior version) - The part I remember getting stuck on was the progression past the burglarized house. For some reason, the Gigantic Hole on the back wall never registered as something I could walk through.

The Gameboy was a cool little system. Just the fact that so long as I had light and a pair of AA batteries, I could interface with this whole other world of tiny characters I would cry real tears over from time to time. I definitely remember the struggle of being in the backseat of the car late at night, waiting to get enough streetlight glow to do anything. Cheap plastic Gameboy accessories filled one of my messy room's drawers. I remember spending a lot of time on my bed because my floor was sometimes so covered in toys, clothes, discarded schoolwork, etc, that I couldn't comfortably walk across it without some gymnastics. It was bad. My undiagnosed ADHD ass could not bring myself to keep it clean.

Anyways.

The nice lady who just hands you a Squirtle upon entering Vermilion city put a big smile on my face. I also remember walking around and speaking over and over to the man and his Machop who were in the process of constructing some building and hoping it would sprout someday. Diglett Cave leading back to Pewter blew my mind. At the point I was able to get there, I had spent so much time wandering and talking to NPCs, that I had agonized over not ever being able to return to Pewter since Cerulean has a one-way roadblock to Mt Moon. I could actually go home.

Which I did sometimes. There was a certain comfort the tiny 3-building town of Pallet gave me: Its almost lullaby-esque song, my mom always being home for me, Prof Oak always open to talk, it just always felt like getting tucked into bed when I would return to Pallet.

After finding Flash and making my way back to Cerulean to get to Rock Tunnel... I reached Lavender Town.

I know it's a meme nowadays, but forreal, as a kid who was scared of everything, Lavender Town *scared* me. The creepy minor-key piano solo opening, the droning sound that reminded me of mourning trainers, and just the introduction of the concept that my Pokemon could die. I would turn the volume down whenever I'd enter the town. I didn't like it.

Celadon was a different story, and it quickly became my favorite town. A massive store that sold evolution stones, a free Eevee (I think my first Eeveelution was Jolteon...), and the motherfuckin Rocket Game Corner baybeeeee. As a kid, slot machines were one of those forbidden wants. When I wasn't given a few bucks to go to the arcade, I would sit and watch my mom spin reels. But the flashing lights and occasional giddy parents made me want to play one so bad. So Pokemon gambling (and a Windows slots collection we had) was my only way to experience it. Thankfully, I have only gambled IRL maybe three times in my life. I have not yet won once. I don't plan on it.

Tom once told me (untruthfully of course, but we were children) that upon bringing an underleveled Pidgey to an Elite Four battle, it outright *died* after being KO'd. I believed him.

But the Rocket Corner though! The kickin' music and the Pokemon prizes (which was fucked up in hindsight bc trafficking, but I justified it to myself thinking I was freeing them) kept me coming back. I remember asking my gambling mom help me to win coins since she was obviously the bestest ever at slots.

It would take me a good while, but I would eventually stumble past the first Rocket dungeon to get the Silph Scope and beat Pokemon Tower (legit the Marowak boss terrified me). Passing the Snorlax and getting Fly? Mindblowing. Revolutionary. Now my Pidgeot (still way overleveled, my Pikachu was pretty neglected) could take me ANYWHERE. Hell yes.

I spent a LOT of time in the safari zone. I don't think I even entered knowing there was a necessary key item in it. I just loved the episode of The Pokemon Cartoon where they show the Safari Zone and wanted to find all the cool rare Pokemon I would probably never use (except Kangaskhan, Kangaskhan kicked ass. And Dratini.). I'm pretty positive the Silph Tower must've taken me absolutely forever to beat the first time. That place is a goddamn labyrinth, even today. I got the Master Ball. I think I ended up using it on Zapdos, since I distinctly remember the struggle of *missing* throws against Moltres, and the epic final confrontation with Mewtwo. I never saw Articuno as a kid. I took Hitmonchan because punchy boxing glove guy was cooler to me than no-mouth kicky guy.

Cinnabar Mansion was a common grind spot for me. My dad told me that Growlithe was his favorite Pokemon, which in hindsight is probably because Officer Jenny would often have one in The Pokemon Cartoon, and my father was/is A Cop. That said, I like Growlithe. I caught a lot of them for fun and made them Arcanines. I did the same for Jigglypuff, who my mom claimed was her favorite. Nowadays, she's my favorite too.

I don't remember much about my first encounter with Giovanni. Just the surprise that "Oh, the Viridian leader is back? OH IT'S THE ROCKET GUY?"

I think I actually remember when I beat Yellow, given that it wasn't a dream (a common doubt I have). I was in the back of a nice black car, not one of my parent's, though I can't remember if it was maybe a rental and they were driving it, or we were being driven somewhere? I think we were out of state. Anyways. My frighteningly overleveled Pidgeot made short work of the Elite Four (except Lance. Three Dragonite? Overpowered asshole.) I had finished Pokemon Yellow. I would make my way over to Cerulean to battle Mewtwo and... that was it.

I would spend months after just walking around the region, agonizing over the Pokemon not available to me in Yellow (Meowth, Ekans, Lickitung, Weedle, other Pikachus, others I can't remember right now), battling every single trainer in the region and exhausting everything.

I remember doing my only ever link battle with Tom. My level 100 Pidgeot beat him pretty handily. I had also traded my follower Pikachu for one of his Pikachu. Which... ruined the ability for any Pikachu to follow you after that.

After some time of the postgame ennui, after Tom had moved, after I had started to grow bored of opening Pokemon Yellow... I made a decision. A very hard one. One that I cried over. But it was what I had to do.

I had to start a new game.

I had to say goodbye to Pidgeot. To the Pokemon Tom had given me. To all the hours spent gambling, wandering, Safari Zoning, grinding the Elite Four for money... so that I could experience the game I had fallen so in love with again.

As someone with a lot of object empathy and who places a lot of stock in physical reminders, maybe I shouldn't have. I would love to still have the things Tom gave me. I would love to still have that Pidgeot. But at the same time, I'm glad that I did. I got to get through the game again with all the play experience and lessons learned from my first go around. I got to see my companion Pikachu again. I was a little braver when Lavender Town reared it's head. I lost memories, but I made new ones, built new teams, and had new experiences, even in the exact same game. I learned that letting go doesn't always mean letting go forever.

I still have the cartridge, Sharpie'd initials and all. I don't have the Gameboy, but I do have my sister's, who got it at the same time I did mine, though I've replaced the shell.

This cartridge has been with me through everything. I hope I never lose it.

Pokemon Yellow, much like Lego Racers, is a game absolutely synonymous with my childhood. It represents not only the first friend I ever made, and the first long game I ever beat, but the idea that every ending will find a new beginning, and that letting go of memories is not antithetical to holding on to them.

#Pokemon #Pikachu #Retro #Ages 4-6 #Pokemon Yellow #Gameboy #Gameboy Color

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let-them-read-fics · 4 years ago

Text

Home For The Holidays

Pairing: Lisa x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 3,335

Warnings / Misc. -- Potentially Lethal Fluff, Crying, Holiday Themed

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hey everybody! This idea came to me out of nowhere, but it’s definitely gotten me into the holiday spirit. I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

“Babe, have you seen my beanie?” Your question rings throughout the air, carrying across the apartment in search of Lisa. Just as you get your earrings put in, her reply comes through: “Mhm, it’s in here.” Before setting off to grab it, you take a long look at yourself in the mirror: the nervousness that you’re harboring is decently masked for the moment, but you pray that your composure doesn’t slip in the next few hours -- after all, that would surely spoil the fun that you have in store for Lisa.

“Aha!” You declare, sliding the material onto your head. She stifles a chuckle, which prompts you to look at her. When you do, all of the air in your lungs swiftly leaves your body; she looks absolutely stunning. She chose a simple outfit, consisting of a regular pair of jeans and a cozy sweater, but she makes it look designer.

“I’m convinced that you can make any and everything look good.” You tell her earnestly, once some of your thought processing skills have returned to you. With a roll of her eyes, she engulfs you in a hug; her perfume washes over you, and you fall into her embrace.

“I love you.”

Even after hearing those words from her as many times as you have, they still managed to send your heart wild. You hide your face in her neck, loving the cute squeal she lets out as you pick her up and twirl her around.

“I love you, jagi. So much.” Her eyes find yours, and the moment is perfect.

~~~~~~~

“Keep them closed! We’re almost there.”

“You’ve been saying that for the past 5 minutes.”

“Just trust me!” You laugh at her impatience, keeping your grip on her thighs steady as you make your way towards the restaurant. She lets her head lay beside yours, resting it on one of her arms that’re wrapped around your shoulders. In any other circumstance, she would’ve been whining more by now; this time, however, she didn’t mind waiting a little longer, considering she was comfortable and content, currently receiving a piggy back ride from you. In competition with the frigid air rushing around, your bodies work to keep each other warm.

After a little more walking, you finally reach your destination.

“Reservation, please?” The hostess requests upon your entrance.

“L/N.”

You gently set Lisa down, back on her feet again, and tell her to open her eyes. The expression that takes over her features is priceless, and you pat yourself on the back for having the foresight to book a table here so far in advance. The holidays always made it difficult to get in anywhere in the city without a reservation, and this restaurant is no exception -- in fact, it’s one of the hardest to get into. After hearing about the reviews, the two of you had been dying to try it out.

“Right this way, ladies.” The hostess says, and you fall in line behind her. Lisa links her arm with yours, and she begins ranting about all the different foods she wants to try.

~~~~~~~

The view from your table is unbelievable; seated next to a row of large windows, you can see the entire city before you, throngs of people walking about, enjoying their night out. You take a minute to think of all the possible things they could be doing, what routes they’re going down, each of them having a unique and beautiful story playing out in front of you.

Against your palm, the surface of the window chills your skin. Once you remove your hand, you see the imprint of it on the glass; a reminder that you had been there.

Lisa notices this, and leans towards the window; at first, you were confused, but soon your heart melts at her actions.

She releases a breath against it, the warm air prepping the surface for her artwork; her finger -- the very one that you’re wrapped around -- draws a heart, complete with your initials and hers inside of it.

“You’re the cutest,” she gushes, looking over your features. You can feel how dopey you look, completely in love and in awe by her. You can’t blame yourself, though.

Her hand finds its way to yours on the table, just as it always does, and you bring it to your lips. She grins at the feeling of your lips pressed against her knuckle, and her heart skips a beat. Both of you are completely whipped for each other, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

~~~~~~~

Stuffed and satisfied with the special anniversary meal you just consumed, you and Lisa make your way out of the restaurant. Next up on the agenda for tonight: ice skating.

~~~~~~~

Waves of fresh snowflakes flurry around the two of you, seemingly in a tango with the breeze that’s drifting by; two lovers rediscovering one another. Her hand is warm within your own, the mittens on your skin keeping the harsh temperatures at bay.

The gentle scraping of your skates can be heard against the ice, little patterns trailing behind in your wake. Yellow and white lights are strewn across the sides of the rink, offering a dazzlingly cozy aura, and you take them in. They remind you of the stars in the night sky, shining brightly, a certain unique twinkle held within each and every one of them.

Lisa gives your hand a squeeze, her silent way of requesting your attention.

“Yes, my love?”

A light blush rises to her cheeks as she begins speaking; you’re amazed that she still reacts to your pet names like that, just as she had when you first started dating. It’s adorable, and you can’t get enough of it.

“Let’s grab some hot cocoa, I’m getting a little cold.”

“Alright, last one there has to clean the litter box tonight!” The last part of the sentence leaves your lips in a rush, an attempt to stall her and give yourself a bit of a head start.

“Uh! Hey!” Her shocked exclamation quickly fades as you dash away from her, set on getting to the stand first.

~~~~~~~

Now armed with your warm beverages, the two of you skate over to the bench positioned directly outside of the rink. Conveniently, the seat is equipped with a heater, and Lisa pulls you in tight.

“Mmm, it’s good.” You tell her, taking another sip. She had spent the trip over here pouting at her defeat.

The two of you carried on with light conversation, reveling in the feeling of having each other so close. The city’s atmosphere was always different around this time of year, the holidays adding an extra charm to everything, no matter what it was. You would be content with doing absolutely nothing, so long as you had Lisa by your side -- and she felt the same way about you. Perhaps that’s why your relationship was so strong; genuine love and understanding ran true in every aspect, and you could never seem to get enough of each other. You still felt the same as you did at the beginning: the happiness upon waking up next to her, that excited blush when she told you she loved you, that familiar rush of desire from your passionate nights spent together -- all of it. She’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more, and you feel beyond blessed to have the privilege of calling her yours.

The night had been perfect so far; memories being made that would surely last a lifetime. The thoughts raced in your mind, swirling around just like the snow had before. They were only stopped by the feeling of her soft lips pressing against your cheek in a sweet kiss.

“Thank you for tonight. I’m so happy.” She leans her forehead against yours, and you brush her nose with your own.

“Of course. There’s no one I’d rather do this with.”

Her eyes are shining with affection, and you nearly get lost in them. Before you can, you stop yourself; your plans for this special night are long from over.

“How about we walk around a bit? I saw more trees and light designs on the way here and I wanna check them out.” She happily agrees, and the two of you change back into your boots before returning the skates. You slip an arm around her shoulders as you begin your journey, and she settles against your side.

You had remembered correctly -- after a short walk, you find the hub of activity from before; a whole block of the city is filled with different vendors and booths, a wide array of services offered. The area is a holiday bazaar, groups of merry people roaming about, lighting up at the different things to do.

Trees line the square, decorated beautifully with various lights and ornaments, their toppers reaching high up into the sky. The moment is too perfect to let slip by, so you retrieve the camera from your bag to capture it all. Lisa cuddles in close to you, smiling widely as you turn the device around to take a selfie of the two of you.

One mini-photoshoot later, you begin your exploration of the square. Quickly, you discover what the places have to offer: some hold arts and crafts, others have face painting, snacks, and even eggnog chugging contests. You grimace at that last one, seeing a group of what appears to be frat boys stumbling around nearby.

Upon spotting a special booth in the distance, you’re quick to remember your reason for suggesting coming here in the first place: Lisa’s next surprise. You do well in acting cool and calmly bringing her attention to the area, being careful not to blow your cover. It doesn’t take much convincing to have her trailing along after you, her hand snuggly tucked into yours.

The booth in question sticks out among the others, a bit out of place in what it offers: for $5, you get the opportunity to knock the city mascot into a dunk tank. The money goes to charity, and everyone has fun in the process. Win-win, right?

The second that you approach the counter, your heart begins racing feverishly -- the plan is coming together. “Just the $5 option, thank you.” You request, and the clerk hands you the balls: $5 gets you 5 opportunities to dunk the mascot into the chilly water below. As you walk over to the tank, you’re afraid that Lisa can see your nervousness; she’s always been able to read you well.

Luckily for you, though, you know just what to do to throw her off your tracks: you pull her in, guiding her lips to your own in a tender kiss. She places her hand overtop of yours, against her cheek, and her fingers lace with yours. She sighs against you, and you smile. Mission accomplished. Before things can get too heated, you pull away, setting the weapons of choice into her hands. “Good luck,” you whisper into her ear, a chill running down her spine at the lowness of your voice.

~~~~~~~

After 3 misses in a row, she’s beginning to get discouraged.

“Ahh, this is rigged!”

As you open your mouth to reply, your phone begins to ring. Right on time. You suppress the smile playing on your lips -- a task much easier said than done -- and tell her that you’ll be right back.

You pretend to answer your phone as you return to the counter, making eye contact with the clerk.

“Are they ready yet?”

“Almost. They’ll be right out.” He smiles back at you, happy to see something like this about to go down. The holidays truly are a magical time of the year.

The moment is interrupted by Lisa’s father walking out of the back room and into your line of sight. “How do I look?” He asks no one in particular, and receives a whistle from his wife, who is also making her way out of the room.

You beam at them, so excited to be with them again. “Those suits look great on you guys.” You tell them, fanning yourself to add to the comical effect. They don the same outfits as the mascot sitting in the tank.

“Alright, so does everyone remember what to do?” You ask, eyes darting between them.

“Once she dunks him, we run out and celebrate.” Lisa’s mom looks to you, waiting for your reassurance of the plan.

“Exactly. Any questions?”

“No, but hurry her up. This outfit is itchy.” You can’t help but chuckle at her father’s words; now, a little weight lifted off of your chest, you make your way back to Lisa.

“There you are! Who was that?” As much as you hate lying to her, you think it’s safe to bet that you’ll easily be forgiven.

“Just someone from work, lame business stuff.”

She accepts your answer right away, and turns the topic back to her mission. With you by her side once again, she resumes her efforts.

After an eternity of careful deliberation and tense preparation, Lisa chucks the next ball through the air; a loud whoosh sound follows behind it, and you hold your breath.

Time seems to move in slow motion; the ball collides with the target, sending confetti into the air and retracting the seat beneath the mascot. Soon he’s submerged in water, everyone in close proximity to the booth now cheering loudly. Lisa turns to you, her arms above her head in triumph, a winning smile on her lips. You lift her up in celebration, and smile against her as you nuzzle your face in the crook of her neck.

With a quick peek over her shoulder, you spot the two “mascots” approaching; you swiftly set her down and attempt to contain your excitement.

Her mother taps her on the shoulder, grabbing her attention. She offers her daughter a balloon -- the customary prize for winning -- and claps when she takes it. Her father gives her a thumbs up and a pat on the head.

As she turns her attention to you, shooting you a look of confusion, her mother stands behind her and removes the mascot head. The subsequent smirk that you don lets Lisa know that something is up, and she spins around once again.

Upon seeing her mother’s face, she drops to the ground, quickly becoming a mess of tears and emotions. The situation is only heightened when her father removes his mask as well, bending down to wrap his wife and daughter up in a long-overdue embrace.

The sight before you has you in tears within an instant; opportunities like this are rare for Lisa, and you feel honored to be the reason for this little reunion. You release a silent thank you to your past self for having the foresight -- yet again -- to squirrel away some money. Something back then had told you you’d need it, and you were beyond thrilled that you had trusted your gut.

Perhaps it was your imagination, but you could’ve sworn that everything shined a little brighter now. The snow sparkled in some majestic way, and the city lights worked together to create a beautiful picture, contrasting with the dark mountains that resided in the distance. Nothing could compete with the view in front of you, though; especially when Lisa raised a hand in your direction, calling you over to their little huddle.

The four of you held each other tightly, simultaneously sobbing and wiping away each other’s tears. No one spoke for a while; everyone was too emotional and content with the happy silence to do so.

Besides, what could she say to you? Lisa knew automatically that you had been the one to arrange all of this and raise the money to get them a flight out. What could she possibly say to repay that? You’re her world, and she’s so happy to have you in her life. People like you are rare, and she cherishes you more with each day you spend together.

None of you really kept track of how much time had passed, but you had made your way into one of the enclosed tents, seeking shelter from the cold and dying to fill each other in on all that's happened since your last visit.

You watch them in awe, loving the way that they light up when they talk to each other. It warms your heart, the way they're all holding hands and looking at each other with so much love. It’s easy to see that this is just what they needed; you can practically see their worries being lifted and cast away.

With one last swig of your drink, you begin to mentally prepare yourself for your final surprise.

In one motion, you accidentally drop your phone into the floor, and crouch down to retrieve it. Lisa gives you a quick look but soon does a double take when she sees you still on the floor, now down on one knee, a small box in your hand.

You’re sure her eyes are about to pop out of her head.

As you clear your throat and swallow your nerves, you glance up at her parents; they’re already looking to you, proud expressions written plainly on their faces. That silent gesture alone is encouragement enough, and it prompts you to begin.

“Lisa��” Wow. One word in and your voice is already failing you. Your eyes shyly scan up to hers, only to find her recently dried cheeks now covered in tears once again. Her hand is clasped over her mouth in an attempt to stifle her cries.

“I knew from the moment we met that I wanted to marry you someday, and I can’t think of a better way to ask than this. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone, and I’m so glad we get to share this day with your parents. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to properly thank them for making you, but I’ll spend my life trying, as long as you’ll have me. So, whaddya say?”

Lisa has always made it clear how much she loves you; despite knowing that, you can’t help but feel nervous as you wait for her answer. Her head is swimming with just about every different emotion imaginable right now, and she’s doing all she can to hold in her tears long enough to respond to you.

“I love you so much. Let’s get married, Y/N.”

A loud whoop leaves your mouth upon her reply, the sound echoing around the space.

You surge forward, eagerly pressing your lips against hers, and she cheerfully takes you into her arms. Once the ring is on her finger, you walk around to the other side of the table and embrace her parents. Having their approval and support means the absolute world to you, and you take a minute to think about how perfect everything turned out.

Now, once again cuddled into Lisa’s side, one of your hands playing with the ends of her hair, you look up into her eyes.

“How did I get so lucky?” She asks, looking down at you, utterly overjoyed with what went down tonight.

“It was written in the stars, baby.”

Lisa’s heart swells at your words, and she pulls you in impossibly closer. Wanting to give the two of you some private time to celebrate, her parents leave the table and go to order some food from across the tent.

Now alone, her lips find yours again, and they take their sweet time in showing you all of the things she didn’t know how to verbalize to you. She peppers kisses across your face; starting with your cheeks, then your nose, and finally, your forehead. You let out a squeal as she grips your waist, her fingers gently toying with the fabric of your sweater.

Sitting there, in the arms of the love of your life, you’ve never felt more content. What a night, you think to yourself, smiling at her parents once more.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Thanks for reading!

#lalisa manoban #lisa manoban #lisa x reader #lalisa #blackpink #blackpink oneshots #blackpink imagine #lalisa imagine #blackpink x reader #lisa x fem reader #let-them-read-fics

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my-hero-cuddles · 4 years ago

Text

Baking Disaster - Bakugou

You drop the grocery bag on the counter and cross the kitchen to gather the necessary bowls and pans. There's an optimistic pep in your step as you dig out the handwritten recipe your mom gave you.

Bakugou has been especially grumpy lately. You know it has more to do with class rankings than he cares to admit, but he's doing his best and you're proud of what he is accomplishing, not disappointed in what he isn't. And he's still leagues ahead of most of the class, you included. But he never takes his frustrations out on you. And he's not doing it now either... technically. Your best friend is avoiding you. He's spending more time working out alone when he would usually drag you along because "you're training regimen sucks" and "you'll never succeed with those weak little arms" (but you knew that was just Bakugou-speak for "I want to see you get stronger" and "I want the chance to show off because I know you like it" or possibly just because he likes to watch you work out and doesn't want to give anyone else the opportunity, but that might just be you projecting your feelings...) He's also going to bed early, even earlier than usual, instead hanging out with you and the rest of your friends.

Bakugou is somehow always there for you when you get down. He's never outright said anything about it but you've noticed that he hangs around a little longer, a little closer, when you're upset. But you can't return the favor when he's too busy stewing in his own anger.

So. You decide try the next best thing you can think of: bake cookies. You can remember the smell of fresh baked cookies filling the house when you would come home from a bad day at school. Somehow your mom always knew just when you needed the small slice of comfort. It's a positive memory you will always carry with you, the same comfort you wanted to share with Bakugou. Which is why you asked your mom for the recipe and went shopping today.

Unfortunately your optimistic pep is rapidly spiralling down to abject failure. First, the batter didn't quite come out the right consistency, so one correction after three over-corrections and things aren't looking too bad. Until you accidentally knock the bowl over while trying to get the pans ready. After salvaging what you can, you slide the cookies in the oven and try to start scraping together a second batch. That works about as horribly as you expect at this point when you tip over your cup of milk into the spare chocolate chips. Shoving that disaster aside, you grab another bowl for the third attempt at making a decent cookie dough. It actually comes together almost correctly, only lacking the ingredients you destroyed beyond further use. But that is when you smell your next mistake. The cookies!

You rush to the oven to yank out the now crispy, burnt tragedies. You heave a sigh and drop the tray on the counter. But, of course, you accidently snag a handle with the edge of the tray and upend the bowl of milky, chocolate chips. Right onto the only clean pan. Running your hands down your face, you survey the damage and realize that the mess has leached onto almost every available surface in the kitchen. You sag down to the floor in a puddle of disappointment, trying your hardest not to cry over the absolute disaster.

Kiri. Sweet, innocent Kirishima chooses this exact moment to come bopping into the kitchen and screeches to a hault when he sees the sad state of the room. He seems concerned, infinitely more so when he spots you curled up on the ground in front of everything. “Y/n?” He asks softly, dropping down next to you. “What happened? Are you okay?”

You look up at him with watery eyes. “No… I was just trying to make things better for…” You choke up when you try to say Bakugou’s name, as if saying it would somehow make your defeat sound even more pathetic. “But I just can’t do anything right!” You fling you hands up in your hysteric outburst, accidently smacking a spoon off the counter. You gasp and look up, just in time for it to splat, batter and all, right on your face.

“Is there… anything I can do to help? Clean up or something?” Kirishima hesitantly picks the fallen spoon up off the floor and slides it back on the counter.

“No…” Your voice sounds more like a whine, even to your own ears. “Can you just keep everyone away for a little bit so I can clean everything up and then pretend like none of this ever happened?” You stare at the floor, not having the energy to stand back up yet.

The redhead hesitates for a minute before finally agreeing and leaving the kitchen. You sit in silence for a few moments and you can feel the tears pricking at your eyes, threatening to spill over. The first drop hits your leg the same time you hear footsteps approaching again. Your stomach drops, dreading who is going to find you now.

Bakugou Katsuki squats down in front of you, elbows on his knees, and narrows his eyes. “What are you doing, dumbass?”

You are too choked up to respond, embarrassed at being found by the one person you wanted to hide this whole debacle from the most.

The blond reaches out with one hand and dries the tear tracks on your cheeks. “Why are you trying to bake when you’re clearly horrible at it?” He swipes away some of the batter on one of his knuckles before drawing his hand away from your face. Bakugou pops the knuckle between his teeth and grunts at the taste. “Maybe not completely hopeless though. That doesn’t taste half bad.” He stands up and holds his hand out towards you to help you up off the floor. “So. Are you going to tell what this is about or not?”

“I was trying to make cookies.” You mumble. Your friend gives you a “duh” look and rolls his eyes. “I thought… maybe… it would make you feel better.”

Bakugou squints at you again and tilts his head slightly. “You were trying to bake cookies… for me?” You simply nod. “Dumbass.” The word is exactly what you were expecting to hear but his tone is the complete opposite. It’s… soft, almost gentle. Fond. He’s surprised. And flattered. Bakugou Katsuki is having feelings, that are not anger or frustration, because you wanted to make him something. This is not at all how you thought your day was going to go when you woke up this morning. “I think we might be able to salvage a few cookies out of this disaster.”

“‘We’?” You repeat.

The blond snorts. “There’s no way you can save this without my help.” He turns to get something out of another cabinet, and you spot Kiri peeking around the corner.

And then it all makes sense. He pieced together what happened and got Bakugou. He knew and wanted to make sure everything turned out right for his friends. Meddling brat. You’ll have to thank him later.

“Hey. Pay attention.” Bakugou snaps your focus back to the task at hand. “No wonder you suck at this.” His complaining has no heat behind it.

Yeah, you will definitely be thanking Kirishima later. But right now you just want to enjoy this moment.

#katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugo fluff #bakugou fanfiction #mha fluff

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makutas-chronicle · 5 years ago

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Spinel, Garnet, and True Kinda Love

I noticed something I thought was interesting while watching the Steven Universe movie, specifically in this shot.

And it led to me rewatching this entire scene with a critical eye to parse out what, exactly, is happening here. I mean it literally when I say that in this essay I will prove that Garnet is not singing at Spinel the way she was singing at Jasper, or just singing while Spinel is present, but singing to her. Alongside a rundown of everything likely going through Spinel’s head because of it. Immediate disclaimer, this is not a ship thing, it’s a friends thing. Underneath Read More because spoilers.

Through the middle section of the movie, mindwiped Spinel and Garnet have a cute little background friendship arc going on. It’s not really focused on, but they can be seen sort of playing around with each other in the background of several shots, mostly at the Sadie and the Killers concert.

Truly adorable.

This is relevant because Garnet is the only character that we see Spinel consistently interacting with directly- instead of tangentially from interacting with Steven- among the Crystal Gems while she’s Rejuvenated. It’s a little thing, but it’s enough to show that they enjoyed each other’s company and maybe bonded a little.

Garnet meets both versions of Spinel before regaining her memories, and considers both her friend.

Look how happy she is to see her!

In the scene immediately leading up to Spinel attacking everyone again, Spinel is incredibly vulnerable, and she can feel it. She feels “found,” like she’s been seen and understood. The problem is, she doesn’t like who she is now, and can’t see why anyone else would, either. So once she realizes that Steven has no more immediate use for her she starts to panic, because they’ve seen what she was before. Who she is now did this to them, how could they ever still want her around after that if she’s not doing something useful for them?

Then she sees they still have the Rejuvenator and she latches on to that. Because that makes sense to her. Of course she’s being tricked, of course they don’t want her, they want the old her. She would too, if she felt like she had the choice. It’s conflict, but it feels safe and familiar, it feels like ripping the bandaid off instead of drawing out a betrayal she feels is inevitable. It lets her get back to what she wanted to do here, taking out her anger on Steven and the Crystal Gems for the simple catharsis of it without admitting she’s ashamed of herself and running scared because of it; at least, not directly.

She’s kidding herself, and on some level she knows it, but she doesn’t want to know, she just wants to fight and forget about it. She wants Steven to prove her right so not even that voice in the back of her head that’s telling her she’s throwing away her chance can talk her out of it.

And then the song starts.

And it’s not a battle anthem. It’s a lullaby. For her.

Steven’s just broken the Rejuvenator and shown her flawed logic for what it is; and here’s Garnet who remembers everything now and has every reason to be furious. But instead of attacking her, instead of keeping the adrenaline rush going, instead of being angry and giving her something else to latch onto so this continues to make sense, she’s being soft, she’s reaching out. She’s saying, “I’m still a friend.”

Garnet still sees her, sees her better now, even. She sees what Spinel’s doing for what it is, a retreat, a hiding place. She’s trying to cover her eyes and make it all go away. Garnet’s calling her out, but it’s gentle.

Garnet’s not pushing her away, she’s calling her back in. Garnet’s standing firm in the face of Spinel trying to chase her off and telling her, “look at me, I’m still here, we’re all still here.”

“And you can be here, too. If you try.”

Spinel can’t handle it. She sees it for a moment and tries to turn away again, because it’s what she needs, what she wants so desperately, but it’s not something she feels like she can have now. She feels like there’s a wall between her and them, and she keeps attacking to try and force them to be the ones that put it there, not her.

And Garnet’s having none of it.

She keeps standing her ground and that forces Spinel to look directly into the real source of what she’s doing. And it almost breaks through again, because truth is she doesn’t want to be attacking them because of that.

She came here to, in her words, “take out my anger on a bunch of strangers.” It was supposed to be pure catharsis. Just take the thing Pink left her for, pin all the blame on it, and watch it go up in smoke. Now everything she’d managed to numb down with anger is swirling in her gut and it’s too much for her to face alone.

It was supposed to be fun, she wanted to attack them because it would make her feel better, now it just makes it hurt more.

The Crystal Gems never go on the offensive for the entire ending sequence. They’re purely stopping Spinel from hurting anyone, not trying to hurt her, not trying to win, which forces the blame, the truth of what’s happening, to fall back onto Spinel.

Steven’s verse is 100% what they’ve been doing the entire sequence. Telling her she’s not alone, that they can be there for her. They can face it with her, but she has to take responsibility and bridge the gap first.

That’s the hardest part of dealing with something like this. Garnet and Steven spend the whole of both True Kinda Love and Change reaching out to Spinel, but until she reaches back they can only do so much.

Garnet’s and Steven’s songs to Spinel make a 1-2 punch of affirmation that they let her wear out all the parts of herself that are trying to run from her feelings on until she has nothing left to throw at them but the source of the problem.

She came here playing at being a victim(which she is), but truth is she’s felt like the villain this whole time(which she became).

#su spoilers #Spinel #Garnet #Steven Universe #su movie #my work

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loveshxt12 · 5 years ago

Note

Could you do a nsfw one shot. It’s bakugo and his newly wed wife. First day off they shared since getting married. Reader feels ignored and attention seeking and her lively husband shows her all the ways he pays attention to her. 🤤 Btw I ❤️❤️❤️ your writing!!

attention

Warnings: smut (oral sex [female receiving], fingering, dirty talk), cursing.

Words: 1.1k

A/N: this is my longest writing so far and that makes me more insecure about my english lmao. anyway, thank u so much adfkjah, i hope you like it and enjoy!

---

You didn't hate your job at all, I mean, being able to save other people's lives is the best thing you've ever felt, but when it comes to time... It's hard not to get tired of the routine. Your husband Bakugou, is a pro-hero as well. That means that neither him nor you had a fixed schedule.

Most days consist of eating breakfast, going to work, and coming back home at midnight to sleep. Sometimes you have an opportunity to return earlier from work, however your husband is still on patrol or vice versa.

Today, after two months of getting married, you both had your first day off.

You imagined that being married it meant spending more time together, living in the same house, and trying to have more intimacy both mentally and physically. But you weren't totally happy because you both barely kissed, it's like you didn't felt like his wife yet, if that makes sense.

You were needy.

Lay on bed and watch a movie was something a normal person would do on his day off and well; you weren't the exception. However, your attention went to the boy next to you, who was watching tv with a bored expression.The need filled you, so you buried your head on the crook of his neck, with your arms wrapped around his waist. Bakugou posed his forearm behind your neck, hugging you, and lay his cheek on your hair.

“I’ve missed spending time with you” you spoke against his neck, he hummed. You started to draw circles on his collarbone, ascending your movements to his jaw and finally your finger landed on his lips, but the guy didn't flinch, you sighed and pouted. After trying to distract him twice, he ended up tightening his grip or just gently stroked you. “Now that we can be together, you're not paying attention to me” you spoke.

Bakugou looked at you, frowning “You're literally on my chest and I’m hugging you, what makes you think otherwise, huh?”

You pressed your forehead against his neck, embarrassed because you were never the one who asked him to have sex, and now you didn't know how to say it. “I mean the other kind of attention, you know?” you muttered a little embarrassed.

The blond guy smirked. “You want me to fuck you, don’t you?” he said mocking you.

You hushed him while hitting his chest gently at this coarseness, “Stop, it's not my fault, I don't even remember the last time we had sex” you exaggerated. “Plus, we didn't have honeymoon”.

“Fair enough”

You looked up when you felt his fingers running through your hair. His lips collided with yours, his hands cupping your jaw. You didn't have time to process his actions. He bit your lower lip, causing you to open your mouth eager to receive his tongue. You started to feel the heat growing up on your body. you separate your lips and straddle his waist. "I just want some attention"

“I’ll give you all you deserve” he said under his breath, making you smile. Your lips dipped into a deeper kiss, his fingers traversed the back of your thighs, his soft touch making you shiver, he stopped his movements when his hands reached your butt. You moaned when you felt a squeeze.

He held your hips, and moved it forward and backward. A bulge started to press against your core. He helped you to remove your shirt and bra, his hands moved to your breast, you separated once more to remove his tank top. You felt his grip on your waist and then his body pushed you backward, your back lay on the bed and the blonde guy on top. His kisses were descending, passing over your neck, collarbones, chest, tummy and finally, he arrived to your low belly.

You wanted him so much. And you knew he wanted you as well due to the look he gave you.

A giggle fell from your mouth when you saw the despair at the way Bakugou teared off your pants and undies. “It seems like I’m not the only needy person here” you teased.

“Shut up”

A sudden moan filled your husband's ears when his tongue stroked your clit, he kept a constant pace, moving his tongue up and down through your core, teasing your hole. Each arm around your thighs and his lustful gaze on you.

He used his fingers to stimulate your pussy while his tongue was swirling slowly around and sucking your button. A shaky cry left your throat when his fingertips rubbed your g-spot, your thighs tensed at the feeling, you tried your hardest not to close your legs.

Your eyes open as you feel the stimulation fading “N-no... what are you- oH” you gasped.

“So fucking tight” he groans when his cock filled you completely. It's been a while since you had sex and it feels amazing. “Are you still on the pill?” he asked with eyes closed.

“Yeah” you felt like you almost couldn’t take him. he just gave you seconds to get used to his size before he starts pounding into you, the feeling was overwhelming. You fit him like a glove.

Bakugou loved the view he had, he could see his cock disappear between your folds, your bouncing boobs and your blushed face. Damn, he didn't know how much he missed having sex 'till now.

“Faster... please” you said and he gladly increased his pace, the sound of his skin slamming yours was louder than the movie. The blond guy was cursing under his breath, drunk with desire.

“You like that, huh?” he groaned and you could only nod. You instantly felt a slap in the lower area of your ass. “I didn’t hear you”

“Yes, I do” you arched your back and closed your legs together due to the sensation.

Bakugou pulled out his dick and turned you effortlessly, your hands helped you to keep your balance. His manhood filling you again without any warning, gasp and shaky moans leaving your mouth, this position fully exposed your sweet spot to his cock. His hands were on your hips, controlling its pace.

Finally, you felt a tingling sensation on your low belly, your walls squeezed. Bakugou noticed that your release was near so his thrusts became slower but deeper and sharp, hitting merciless your g-spot. “I’m c-close…” you gasped

“Come on, babe. Cum all over my fucking cock like the good girl you are” his fingers rubbed your clit.

You reached your orgasm with a shaky gasp and you felt him cumming inside you with a groan.

Your arms gave up holding your weight and you pressed your forehead against the sheet, "That was fucking hot" he mumbled. You giggle breathlessly and then he pulled away his manhood, making you feel empty.

Lazily you both lay again, in the same position you were at the beginning, let's see how long will take this time to get out of bed.

---

please feel free to let me know if there's any misspelling.

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saundraswriting · 4 years ago

Text

Missed Signals Chapter 1

SUMMARY: Reki might have a problem. He gets hyperfixated. He is too loud. He has a delayed sleep schedule. He forgets to eat and drink sometimes. He zones out a lot, and even more when he tries to pay attention. He fidgets with his hair and his clothes and his skin to the point of injury. His brain works, sometimes. Other times he has to fight it. He has learned to cope enough over the years but just like everything else, some days are better than others.

WARNINGS: Nothing too grand, descriptions of ADHD symptoms,

NOTES: I am trying to cope with what I am thinking is undiagnosed ADHD by projecting onto my favorite characters. I mean no harm and no offense.

Ao3 // Missed Signals Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Next Chapter

With the sound of the last bell, Reki and Langa tore off to the skate park. They had just finished mid terms. Both boys were lookin forward to the three day weekend. They both missed going to 'S' and the skate park and even Joe's place, trying to studying as much as possible. Langa was still terrible with his Japanese and Math even though he was getting better. Reki's English and Biology scores were dismal, but he seemed to be scoring consistently well on his other tests.

"Hey, Langa, Reki! Over here!" Joe called. "Long time no see." The four other skaters were standing near a bench in the skate park all seeming to wait for the two high schoolers.

"Joe! Cherry!" Reki's bright grin was visible to them from the entrance.

"Shadow! Miya!" Langa was a little more subdued in his greater but no less enthusiastic.

Both boys felt a weight shift off their shoulders at the presence of their friends. They were really finished with midterms, they had three days to hang out and skate with each other. Their week of hard work seemed to finally pay off.

"Hello there, boys. How did midterms go?" Cherry asked. He was dressed in his robes but had his hair up.

"I think we did okay. It helps that we struggle in different subjects. I am glad we decided to take the days to review things." Reki said.

"It was a smart idea to use past test to study off of, instead of just notes. Your notes are also so lacking but you do so well on the tests." Langa commented absently as he bent to retie his shoe.

"What do you mean?"' Joe asked Langa. They all watched as Langa fiddled with his shoelaces.

"Oh. Um. Reki often forgets his homework or his notes are very scattered. Rarely does he remember his homework and take good notes. But he scores high on his tests. I even overheard the teachers discussing that if he applied himself and did his homework and took better notes Reki easily could be a top student." At the second mention of his name, Reki stopped looking at his phone and came back to the conversation, glancing at Langa who was sighing at his shoe.

"Langa, your aglet is broken. You'll need new laces. but for now I think some tape will do." Reki said. Everyone looked at him confused. "What? The thing on the end of your laces is called an aglet. It is derived from old French meaning 'needle' or 'pin' designed for lacing shoes or bags easier. Originally they were for ornamental reasons." Reki rattled off unprompted into the silence. His face grew pink at the attention of the others.

"Reki, why do you know that?" Miya asked.

"I had a period of time where I customized shoes for people. I liked how different it was from doing a board. I could show off my art skills better and helped steady my hand a bit more." Reki shrugged, not seeing the big deal.

"You know the old French origins of a part of a shoe no one cares about but you can't be bothered to learn English?" Cherry demanded.

Reki shrugged again, rubbing the back of his neck, embarrassment evident. "I don't mean to not do it. I sit down and I get ready to do it but then my mind blanks. Sometimes I can force myself but then I am frustrated quickly and easily irritated. Sometimes I work on it at school but then my notes are shitty." Reki rubbed his forehead, voice hard. "Sometimes the lights are too bright. Sometimes my brain says no to English but yes to physics and even sometimes my brain says no to everything and I just sit there telling myself all the things I need to do but it is all too much and not enough." Reki's hands begin to shake, while Joe and Cherry share a look over his head.

"Skating is the only thin that helps. But when I skate I give up time that I could be studying or working on the homework. I don't mean to be bad at school, just sometimes I can't help it." Reki seemed to curl in on himself, drawing his shoulders up and ducking his head down. His voice grew small and weak.

"Reki we didn't mean to make you upset. We were just curious. You aren't the only person that has issues organizing their thoughts or staying focused. Has this been an issue for a while?" Cherry gently asked. Reki seemed to relax when the group stayed quiet, seeming to expect derogatory comments.

"I think I began noticing in my second year of middle school." Reki spoke to the ground, unable to look at anyone in the eye. Langa could see his muscles tensing, sensing Reki's desire to bolt.

"That is enough of that. We came here to skate. Let's skate." Joe broke the tension seeming to sense Reki's urge to flee.

"Yes! I have something I want to show you slimes." Miya skated off after joe towards the halfpipe, throwing taunts over his shoulder as he went. Reki and Lana flew after him, throwing their own teasing comments at Shadow, who deemed himself the adult supervisor of the rowdy children.

Cherry and Joe hung back a bit, watching them all tear off. The previous conversation still lingering in the air. Both adults tracking a brightly laughing Reki as he skated around Miya and Langa.

"Poor kid. That must be so frustrating. He tried to make it out like it was no big deal but even if he learned some coping mechanisms, they won't work all the time if he doesn't know what the source of the problem is." Cherry said.

"He won't. He isn't self aware enough to know that he even has symptoms. He seems to have an executive dysfunction though." Joe said, thinking back to his high school days, where everything was too much and not enough, the days of skating until the small hours to hopefully be able to focus, the cooking and baking he did to keep from tearing things apart.

"Maybe we can help him? Maybe if we play our cards right he will even let us. He is so smart, it must be terrible to be stuck in your own head like that." Cherry said, finally picking up his board. Joe followed suit.

"The hardest part is the executive dysfunction. You need and want to do the thing but because you're frontal cortex didn't develop fully you completely freeze and your brain checks out and you are worthless all day. No one else can really get it unless they know. It is hard to explain it to neurotypicals." Joe tried to explain to the best of his abilities. Cherry nodded and made a mental note to research neurotypicals and neurodevelopment disorders.

The two adults finally made it over to see everyone was in the middle of a trick imitating game. Miya was keeping the tricks to a lower difficulty than normal so Reki wouldn't get to disheartened Joe noticed. Langa was doing pretty well, some of the more subtle footwork tripping him up since he wasn't a long term veteran. They skated for a few more hours before finally taking a water break. They were leaning against the fence or the bench or even each other in Reki and Langa's case. Langa had his full attention on Reki as he lectured on another topic, Cherry wasn't sure but it seemed to be about the manhole covers in the streets.

"They have to be round cause any other shape will fall in when turned upright. It is to save the people who are in the pipe below it." Reki was saying. Langa soaked up every word, and Cherry almost felt sorry for how gone the kid was for Reki.

"Honestly kid, why do you know that?' Joe said, looking just as interested. Cherry could only sigh and hope he wasn't as readable on how gone for his idiot gorilla.

"I collect interesting facts. I like to keep them in my brain, never know when you need them." Reki said. Joe just smiled down at the young man, fondly.

"Of course you do, kid. Of course you do."

#saundraswriting #sk8 the infinity #renga #reki kyan x langa hasegawa #adhd!reki #Domestic Sk8 family #matcha blossom

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official-weasley · 4 years ago

Text

The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 2, Ch. 8

PART 2: THE YEAR OF MISCHIEF AND SNEAKING AROUND Chapter 8 - Tonks vs Exams

Tulip

We were all in awe when Nova and Charlie were telling us about their adventure the next morning. I completely forgot that I got presents and that it was Christmas as I couldn't believe just how lucky they were to get out of there alive.

Penny, of course, was mad at them for weeks. She couldn't believe how foolish they were and she kept an eye on their every move to make sure they weren't going to go in there again. In reality, she couldn't shake the thought of what would happen if they never got out of there and just like Tonks and me, she couldn't bear the thought of never seeing them again.

I have to say that even though they nearly escaped death, they were pretty lucky not to get caught. When Bill came back after the holidays, he didn't have a clue that anything at all went down on Christmas Eve and we all promised to keep it that way.

—

Nova and I started to spend more time together as the final exams started approaching. We decided it was a good idea if we get a head start on Astronomy as we knew that other subjects were probably going to have a harder exam.

I wasn't really worried about neither Charms nor Transfiguration. I was doing rather well with the former this year and Nova decided to keep us on track with the latter since the beginning of the year.

Our every action was, of course, observed by Penny and she couldn't help but be proud of just how better prepared we were this year. In reality, we just wanted her to stop nagging us, something that this year started in April rather than May. I guess she thought that we were going to start studying faster and I have to tell you it worked!

There was something about how she was talking about exams that made us all feel guilty for not starting studying in September. Perhaps she was using a charm or something.

—

We started taking our exams more seriously in the second part of May. Before, we mostly just made Penny think we were studying. Tonks and I snuck into the Kitchens and as she had no idea how to get inside and we studied there last year, she assumed we just wanted to be alone.

Nova and Charlie usually went to the Lake to 'study' but Tonks and I knew that they were reading books not required in any class. I had to give it to them, they looked rather convincing because Nova enchanted the book covers to look like books for Defense Against the Dark Arts and History of Magic. Penny didn't suspect a thing!

In the second part of May, we finally stopped hiding from her as it was time to study Potions. Penny held a group in the Great Hall just like last year. It now had even more students than before as it consisted of yours truly, Penny the teacher, Nova, Tonks, Charlie, Andre, Jae, Badeea, the kid who was overenthusiastic about Quidditch called Murphy, and even a Slytherin boy that I didn't know the name of. What I did know was that he had the greenest eyes I have ever seen!

—

One morning at breakfast, we finally got our exam schedule which was pretty similar to the one we had last year, except that we had Potions as the last exam and Transfiguration was the first thing on Monday morning.

I was more worried about Tonks than my exams. Every time Nova and I made it down for breakfast I was just waiting for Penny to come rushing in and tell us that Tonks is packing again.

—

I was confident about my Charms and Transfiguration exam. I knew I was going to do great in Defence Against Dark Arts as Charlie was teaching us every morning by the Lake and made us practice our spells.

The unusual thing was that I was really worried about my Herbology exam. A few nights before it was scheduled I couldn't sleep and to my surprise, neither could Nova. We both sat by the window in our dormitory and observed the Moon.

“Am I the only one who doesn't know what to study for the Herbology exam?” Nova suddenly asked.

“That's exactly what's keeping me awake!” I was relieved that I wasn't the only one.

“The thing that's bugging me is the fact that we have a practical part as well. We didn't have that last year and for Merlin's sake, I can't really recall what we even did this year.” Nova scratched the back of her head.

“I was confused about the practical part as well. What are we supposed to do? Repot plants?” We both chuckled.

We decided that perhaps we would be able to go to sleep if we go through our Herbology notes. To our surprise, we were both good at answering questions about it.

After a while, we gave up and went to bed. The next morning, the scene I have been waiting for for weeks finally happened. Nova, Charlie, Jae, and I were eating breakfast when Penny rushed to our table. But she didn't look scared or worried, she looked astonished.

“You will never believe what I have just witnessed.” She said, the surprised expression still on her face.

Charlie got up immediately. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who thought Tonks was trying to run away again.

“What, what happened?” Nova grabbed Charlie's hand to slow him down as she wanted to hear what was going on.

“I just woke up and went down to the Common Room.” She started. “I spotted Tonks next to the fireplace, a book in her hands. She greeted me like she does every morning and then she said that she was wondering if I might need help studying Herbology.” She finished.

“She what?” We all said at once. Even Jae couldn't believe what Penny just told us.

“So let me get this straight...” Nova was the first to speak. “She offered to help you with Herbology?”

“Yes!” Penny squeaked.

We all exchanged looks of disbelief.

“And furthermore,” Penny wasn't finished with her story, “she asked me to tell you lot to meet her in the Library!” We all gasped, Jae's spoon clanked against his bowl as he dropped it in surprise.

“Penny are you sure we're talking about the same Tonks?” I rubbed my chin.

“I am telling you, I have no idea what's gotten into her but I think we should meet her in the Library.” She pointed her finger to the doors of the Great Hall.

“Good morning everybody! How is studying going?” Bill came to our table, a smile on his face just as we were putting all of our things in our bags.

Penny grabbed him by his elbow and took him with us. I couldn't help but giggle at Bill's confused face. We rushed to the Library and to our surprise found Tonks in there, waiting for us.

“Oh, there you are, finally!” Tonks thought she whispered.

“Tonks, are you okay? Penny told us that you offered to help us with Herbology?” Nova asked with a confused face.

“Right! I assume you do need my help?” Tonks grinned.

We were all in such shock, Bill now included, that we couldn't even reply.

“Well, I saw how confused you were when we got our exam schedules and you saw that there was a practical part to the Herbology exam.” She explained.

“And how can you help us with that?” Jae was the first to speak.

“First of all, I wanted to ask you, why were you so confused? Professor Sprout did tell us at the beginning of the year.” Tonks looked at every single one of us, waiting for an answer.

“She did?” Penny and I asked in unison.

“Yes, weren't you listening?” Tonks was the one who had a confused expression on her face now.

“And you were?” Nova and Charlie were the ones who asked the question at the same time now.

“Seriously, mates. I know I might not be the first to do my homework or the one who studies the hardest but I do listen in Herbology. It's a quite entertaining subject.” She smiled.

I don't think I have ever seen any of my friends in such shock as I did now and I also think I never saw us being so quiet, even in the Library. Since nobody replied again, Tonks chuckled.

“C'mon, let me help you.” She showed us to sit down.

I am still not sure what Bill was going to get from Tonks' lesson, perhaps he thought that he might learn something, as he sat down next to Charlie and pulled out his Herbology notes.

I needed about 10 minutes after Tonks started talking to realize that this wasn't a dream and was actually happening. I even saw Nova pinch herself to see if she was dreaming.

Tonks first explained to us what Professor Sprout told us at the beginning of the year and I have to admit that she might've been in a different Greenhouse as I don't recall any of it coming from Sprout's mouth.

She told us that Sprout warned us about the practical part of the exam and that she explicitly said before every lesson if what we were going to learn on that day was going to be considered for the exam.

I looked at Nova and was quite relieved when I saw that she didn't remember any of this as well. I then looked at Charlie and Jae, thinking that perhaps Tonks got the information from a Gryffindor since we didn't have Herbology together, but they both had the same bewildered expression on their faces.

After Tonks' introduction, we finally brought out our notes and fresh pieces of parchment as we knew we were going to write a lot. I finally saw what Bill was doing, sitting with us. He wasn't trying to listen to Tonks and learn Second Year Herbology. It was more to see our expressions when Tonks was teaching US and not the other way around. He was merely sitting there to mock us and I knew that he will never let us forget the fact that Tonks had more knowledge on a subject than Penny.

She then told us about all the plants that could be in the practical exam, why they were important and what exactly would we have to do with them. She told us that there might be repotting, cutting, watering, pH measuring of the soil, or simply using the right equipment and method to touch plants.

Then she stood up, went to Madam Pince, who took her to one of the shelves. She came back with a book and put it in the middle of our table. We all squeezed together to look at what she was about to show us.

In the book was a drawing of every single plant we had to have the above knowledge for and then she continued explaining why it is important to know the differences between plants and that even if they are similar they might not need the same care.

This went on for another two hours and about an hour in we finally came to terms with the fact that Tonks was our teacher and not Penny, like usual.

I have to say that what surprised me, even more, was how good Tonks was at explaining stuff. It was incredible how she simplified terms and how easy it was to remember details about plants from her description.

“I think that's enough for today.” She finally closed the book and we put our quills down. I think we would've clapped and cheered at that moment if we weren't in the Library.

“I know it might've come as a surprise to you all that I am teaching you something but I wanted to return the favor after what you mates did for me last year and keeping an eye on me this year.” She winked at Penny. “I know you were watching me.” She grinned.

“Wow, Tonks. I don't know what to say.” I said. “I think we would've failed our practical if it wasn't for you.” I couldn't believe the words coming out of my mouth.

“Well, I think it's safe to say who our Herbology teacher for next year is.” Said Charlie as he squeezed Tonks' shoulder.

Penny, on the other hand, was sitting with her mouth open. I reckon she was still in shock at the fact how good Tonks was at Herbology. She then stood up, quietly put her chair back as it was before she sat down, walked to Tonks, and pulled her in a tight hug.

“I knew it.” She whispered. “I knew you had it in you.” For a second I thought I saw her tear up.

—

It's safe to say that after that lesson with Tonks we all aced both the theoretical and practical Herbology exam.

I was proud of myself as we were heading to the Dungeons for our final exam of the year, Potions. I was confident that I was going to pass every subject except History of Magic. It was always either fail or, by some Merlin's luck, an Acceptable in that class.

Penny was sure that we were all ready for our Potions exam and that we are all going to achieve at least Exceeds Expectations as she, like last year, made us sheets to study from, gave us thorough notes and detailed instructions on how to brew each potion that might be on the practical part of the exam.

When we got our questions, I wasn't so sure I was going to get an E as Penny said but I still tried my best as I knew my mum would have my head if I fail any of my subjects. She might look like a nice lady and work in a cute ol' coffee shop, but she is the reason why I like to do pranks and be a little mischievous at school. She is a really strict parent!

After we were all done with our final exam, we had a week to relax. As always, we went down to the Lake. I took Dennis, my toad, with me as I knew Nova was going to bring Pip and as Nova and I share a dormitory, Pip and Dennis became really good friends.

We were all sitting under a giant tree to be in the shade, as it was really hot. Penny was asking Bill if he thinks he was going to be a Prefect next year. Jae was giving Tonks prank ideas for her parents. Nova kept scolding Pip for moving, as he was playing with Dennis and she wanted to get a portrait of both of them together and Charlie was reading one of his Dragon books, his head resting on Nova's knees.

I, on the other hand, decided to just sit back and enjoy my view as I haven't seen my friends so relaxed in weeks.

—

The day when we get our results has arrived. I woke up, Dennis sleeping half on my face. I gently took him off and placed him on my pillow. He was so cute!

I got dressed and woke Nova up as I didn't want her to miss getting the envelope at the same time as me. We made our way to the Great Hall and stumbled upon Jae, Charlie and Bill, heading there too. We entered the Great Hall which was already full of chatter and nervous students.

We sat down and waved to Penny and Tonks, sitting at the Hufflepuff Table. Professor Flitwick came to us, with a happy expression on his face like most times and gave us our envelopes. I opened mine slowly. I couldn't help but be a bit nervous as I read my results.

Potions A

Herbology O

Charms E

Defense Against the Dark Arts E

Transfiguration E

History of Magic A

Astronomy O

“You got an Outstanding in Herbology too!” Nova peaked at my results. I took her results from her.

Potions E

Herbology O

Charms O

Defense Against the Dark Arts O

Transfiguration O

History of Magic A

Astronomy E

“Four Outstandings, well done Nova!” I congratulated her, expecting nothing else.

When we could finally go to other tables, we learned that all of us got an Outstanding in Herbology and that we all passed History of Magic.

“I have to give it to your study group, you are doing something right.” Bill was looking very proud of his younger brother. And I couldn't agree with him more.

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thisisthehardestthing · 5 years ago

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This Is The Hardest Thing - 4

Synopsis: A exchange student from the US in enrolled into UA when her father has to move to help with the increased crime rates in Japan. The final year of high school is a lot to handle, adding on top the class of 3-A and the trouble they get into will make for a wild ride.

Triggers: swearing, i think thats it.

A/N: Not in this one, but it’s about to get spicy real fast. Super short chapter

Tags: @aizawascumslut @whats-her-quirk @pnkcts (you liked my masterlist, so I hope you don’t mind me tagging you?)

Masterlist

CHAPTER 4

You and Bakugou were on a yellow couch in the break room, sitting as far from each other as possible. The smack to your chin had caught you off-guard, making you slip off your seat in the middle of class. The chair that followed your body caused a bang so loud, Present Mic had to look at his quirk support item to make sure it hadn’t activated. He’d quickly intervened once he realised it was, to no one’s surprise, Bakugou and the new girl butting heads. He was just going to reprimand the hot-tempered student, when he saw the thick black lined drawing of male genitals penciled in the notebook, balls and all. You remembered the red of the teachers face against the yellow blonde hair exploding upwards as he kicked you both out of the classroom for some reprimanding. He was more embarrassed than angry.

You sighed and leant an elbow on the armrest, pressing some ice against your face.

Todoroki had given it to you as you passed by his desk. It was wrapped in a tissue in order not to give you freezer burn, and you gladly accepted it as you were shooed out and ordered to wait in the current room. Your other hand picked at the material of the sofa. It wasn’t leather, yet it wasn’t canvas either, and you racked your brain trying to think of what it could be.

You tried to keep yourself distracted in this way, focusing on the cold water dripping down your wrist from time to time. However, you couldn’t help yourself as your eyes wandered over to the blonde porcupine. He was slouched down, hands shoved angrily in his pockets, jaw clenching over and over again. Unfortunately, you knew were definitely in the wrong this time. You should not have teased him with your quirk and so you shifted in your seat to face him.

“What?” He snapped as you opened your mouth. His eyes narrowed as his head whipped around to stare at you. Why the hell is he so infuriating? You took a deep breath, reminding yourself that your father would want you to stay ‘grounded’.

“I’m sorry,” you began, “for drawing a dick in your book.” He frowned, looking away from you and staring at the beige wall behind the matching couch that was opposite you.

“You’re damn right you’re sorry,” He spoke, voice carrying in the silent room. The ego behind his words made your blood throb in your ears. He’d been throwing insults at you since yesterday, and here you were trying to make amends first.

The door slid open as Aizawa walked in. His loose hair tumbled over his shoulders in a mess. He had that kind of sour expression like he’d woken up from a nap that lasted too long, and he was both dehydrated and pissed off.

“You two…” He began as he stood in front of both of you, behind the brown wooden coffee table. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he took in the tense air. He sighed and called your name. You sat upright, turning to face him attentively. While Aizawa may look like a mess, he commanded an authority beyond anything you would’ve expected from a man hidden behind bangs.

“Why did you draw this in Bakugou’s notebook?” He asked, pulling the notebook out from a pocket behind his back, opening it to show you the crude sketch. You wanted to tear the page out.

“He was being one.” You shrugged, giving Bakugou a side-eyed glare. He huffed.

“Was fucking not.”

“You kicked my chair!”

Aizawa let out a sigh.

“You were on my desk, shit-brain!”

You almost lost it, then, saying what was actually on your mind. You wanted to shout, but it came out soft, in such a small voice that almost wasn’t your own.

“You called me fat.” He froze, his frown of anger instantly disappearing as it was replaced with confusion. Even your teacher hesitated, not knowing whether to interject, before falling onto the couch behind him to lean forward attentively. Realisation flickered over Bakugou’s face as he remembered the early morning fight.

“No, I called you heavy. Not fucking fat.” He was laughing, gums baring to the world as the rumble exploded from his chest and filled the room. “I’m not a liar. You’re heavy as shit, look at you. Muscle is like, 10 times as heavy or something. Eijirou can tell you the exact fact.” You felt a blush begin to creep up on your cheeks. Your palm squished the soggy ice tissue, forgotten during all the commotion and the cold water ran down your wrist, cooling down your rising body temperature. You wanted to throw it at him. You wanted to hear the satisfying noise it would make when coming in contact with his cheek. You didn’t.

“Bakugou, you shouldn’t mention someone’s weight.” Aizawa threw the book onto the table, effectively silencing the laughter. “You also shouldn’t punch someone in the face.” Bakugou huffed in response, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I was aiming for her hair.”

“You’re both suspended from class for the rest of the day, with cleaning duty.” Bakugou’s excuse came at the same time as Aizawa’s punishment. Your mouth fell open. Without leaving room for any rebuttal, your teacher stood up, took a final look at his students and walked out of the room.

You were on your way to the residences. Bakugou was stomping, hands shoved in his baggy pants as he walked a couple steps ahead of you. He didn’t even leave the front door open after he walked in. You blocked it with your toe before it shut, stepping into the empty common area.

A rough hand darted out at you, grabbing your uniform shirt collar and slamming your back against the door. He made you wince as his knuckle pressed into the bruise he left yesterday. He knew it, and dug just a little bit deeper. His red eyes bore down into yours. It made you wonder if he enjoyed the fact that there was a tangible mark under your shirt.

“You really piss me off.” Bakugou stated, voice low and menacing. His free hand planted firmly next to your head, potentially scorching the door with the smoke that had begun to filter out from between his fingers. He smelt like a campfire.

“Yeah, well, bite me,” you pried his fingers open as you kept his intense stare. He moved so that his arms were boxing you in, muscled forearms rippling near your ears. For a second, you thought he would. There was something indiscernible stirred in with his anger. It was the center of a blender, swirling together. It was hypnotising. You slowly placed one of your hands against the door behind you, finger tips spread, palm flat. You almost shivered when you felt the vast amount of energy rolling in waves through your skin, oscillating in your nerves and vibrating your bones. It was all encompassing, making your shoulder jump up with the sheer force of it.

“What’s wrong with you?” His face scrunched up, eyes darting down to see your hand against the door. “Oi, what the fuck are you up to!?” He tsk’d, pushing away fluidly and crossing his arms.

The second his palms left the wood, it’s hum returned to the normal dull pattern that chopped trees would usually give off. It felt empty, stagnant, . As dead as the door itself. Your fingers twitched as they ached to feel such power again. I want to touch him. You bumped the thought out of your head and curled your hands into a fist to subdue the itch. You thought about the ways your father taught you to keep a level head. That’s why wood had such a consistent vibration. Be like the wood.

“You’re the one that keeps picking fights.” You gloss over his quirk comment, straightening your school uniform to make a point. His eyes followed your hands. “I get it, we never established a clear winner in our sparring match, so we should do it now to get it over with.” Bakugou seemed like he was about to explode, but he nodded his head. His eyes darkened as he thought about it, tongue swiping across his teeth and under his lips.

“Fight rules?”

You were almost sorry to pass up the chance to make him land on his back again.

“Rock, paper, scissors.” You deadpanned. A frustrated growl erupted from his throat. His nostrils flared and instead of saying another word, he turned on his heels and stalked his way to the kitchen, slamming open the fridge. You could not help the snicker that escaped your lips. Worth it.

I guess I won this round. You mused, making your way to your room to begin replying to your fathers messages.

You had been talking to your dad for what seemed like hours. You spoke to him laying on your bed, sitting against your closet doors, spinning in your desk chair. Now, while he was finally reaching the conclusion in his speech of disappointment, you were standing on your balcony. You held the phone away from your ear as you lazily took in the details of the building opposite you. Your room was on the side of the dorms, and therefore, was face to face with someone else’s balcony across the grass. There were trees planted that should’ve obscured the view, but there was still a direct line of sight to a sliding door.

His voice rang out loud over the speakers, reprimanding that it was the second day of school, and how he did not raise you to continue unnecessary conflict. You continued to stare in the cool blue reflection of the window opposite you, eyes unfocused as Soil went on and on. Movement on the other side of the glass made you snap back to reality. You squinted to try and see through it, wondering who could be on the other side since it was… lunch time!? Shock coursed through your veins as you realised you’d been on the phone for 2 hours, listening to a one sided conversation.

“Dad,” you interrupted him mid sentence and his voice lulled. “Sorry, I know I—” The sliding door opened and the tall purple haired boy from this morning walked out, cradling something in his hands. Your words of apology forgotten on your tongue.

“Hm, beansprout, can’t hear you.” You brought the phone closer to your face.

“Just, I’m sorry.”

You heard your father let out his heavy sigh that told you the conversation was over. As you said your goodbye’s, Shinsou looked out across from his balcony, catching you with lazy eyes. He held your gaze with a smirk, slowly lifting up one of his fingers to his lips, zipping his mouth shut. Then he lifted up the other hand that was cupped against his chest. You could barely see it, but in his palm was a small black kitten.

***********

Soil tossed the phone back onto his desk with a clatter. Large, calloused hands wrapped around his forehead as he rubbed at his temples before pulling it down his face to scratch at his chin.

What am I going to do with that girl? He thought as he shuffled around the paperwork he was working on, going over what he wrote about the encounter with Giran.

It’s been two years since Shigaraki had disappeared, but the underground network of villains have seemed to surge in number over the last few months, tipping the balance of power ever so slightly. It was enough to bring out the worst in people, have them lose their faith and security they had once felt all over Japan. Soil knew he had to come back home when the influence had started reaching his part of the world, like an incessant hammer until cracks had started to form. He had to stop it at the source.

A knock on the wall of his cubicle interrupted his deep train of thought. One of the many sidekicks at Endeavor’s agency stood there, sheepishly grinning at the visiting hero. His thumbs were twiddling in the thick yellow gloves.

“It’s time for patrol, Soil, sir!” The sidekick snapped to attention. A polite smile graced the Hero’s lips as he pushed his hulking figure away from the desk. Soil nodded as he followed the younger man. The mental image of that hammer would not leave his mind, try as he might. He felt the same nagging feeling that something might happen soon, the same inkling on the night he spotted Giran.

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edettethegreat · 4 years ago

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BONUS ROUND (aka part 1.5)- Some additional things for staging King Lear so that Edmund is 100% more sympathetic

Part 1

Due to the fact that the audience needs to be told things via physical action makes this job of mine (ie making Edmund more sympathetic) (that I definitely did not have to do) a whole lot more difficult.

I gotta add in some more stage directions to really push the points I’m going for. So that even the dumbest audience member will get my point.

Casting/ Costumes

-Curan, who I have previously decided is the Captain Edmund talks to later, has red hair. Like, a bright shade of red. Since it’s not a common hair color, the audience will be able to recognize that the same servant is now the captain.

- regarding Cornwall’s costume- This is a very valid example of what I was trying to describe (but like- plus a black jacket)

-Edgar and Gloucester have a very strong family resemblance to each other. Edmund does not. In fact, Edmund looks almost nothing like them. (For example, if Edgar and Gloucester have dark brown hair, Edmund would have light blond hair.) (I know, I know- that’s not necessarily how genetics work. BUT. That’s also not not how genetics work.)

-EXCEPT. Now hear me out because I’m right. Hear me out. This is good. Edmund and Gloucester share the same, very distinctive, eye color. So that when Gloucester’s eyes get stabbed out, it’s also severing the one strand of a connection he had with Edmund. ✨Symbolism!✨

ACT 1 SCENE 1

-At the start of the scene, the stage already has people on it. It’s like. A party kinda but not really? It’s a royal event- a bunch of noblepeople would be there. The Door (TM) (and by now (assuming you read part 1) you should know that The Door (TM) is one of my favorite set pieces here) is on the stage towards the middle in the back.

-you can see Gloucester, Kent, and Edmund walking towards it, ie to enter and join the other guests in the room. There is no wall between “behind” the door and in front of it. Only an implied wall created by how the set is set up. So you can still see them.

Here’s a not-so-helpful illustration:

I do recognize how unhelpful that illustration is. I’m sorry.

-As they approach the door, Gloucester pauses, waiting. Kent stands behind him- waiting to see what he’s waiting for. As you’ve guessed by now, this Earl of Gloucester is waiting for his bastard son to open the door for him. (Headcanon that Gloucester treats Edmund like a servant 99% of the time. Headcanon that Edmund would rather be a servant, because at least servants can quit their jobs.)

-Edmund opens it. Kent’s just like “what- what just happened?”. But Gloucester enters, and Edmund seems to be waiting for him to enter as well, and so he does. (It was this, combined with everything I wrote in Part 1, that makes Kent ask “Is not this your son, my lord?”, ie ??he’s not a servant tho?? Why, Gloucester?? Why are you like this??)

-As I mentioned earlier (I think- Unless I was just planning on mentioning it, and I didn’t actually get around to doing so) (I don’t exactly write these things in order), Extras are already on stage. The whole stage has a “ah yes this is an upper class event. The people here are all fancy rich people” vibe.

-As Gloucester has his epic conversation with Kent, other less high ranking noblemen stand around them as well. They don’t say anything or join in- probably because they’re less higher ranking.I know nothing about the hierarchy of English nobility, but let’s just say that Gloucester and Kent are pretty high ranking people.

-anyway the only purpose of doing that is for the “make Gloucester 100% more of a jerk” aspect of this.

-ie, he’s not just insulting Edmund in private, or in front of a close friend of his. He’s insulting him in public, in front of all the random noblemen.

-everything else I wrote in Part 1 about this scene stays the same.

ACT 1 SCENE 2

-Edmund stands by the desk as he talks to Edgar. (As you’d remember from part 1, he was sitting at the desk as he started his 2nd soliloquy).

-at “Some villain hath done me wrong!” Edgar slams his hands down on the desk. Edmund backs away as he says his lines “That’s my fear....”. He sees that Edgar is really angry (yeah, no kidding.), and is like “oh.... oh he would not hesitate to kill me with his bare hands at the moment.”

ACT 2 SCENE 1

-at “and of my land?..... loyal and natural boy, I’ll work the means to make thee capable”, Gloucester is still facing away from Edmund/ not looking at him. He motions vaguely to him at the words “loyal and natural..”. The line is said in a way making it clear that by it he’s actually saying “well Edgar’s not a valid heir to my stuff anymore, what’ll I do with my land??.... ah, I guess Edmund will have to get them. Oh well.”

ACT 2 SCENE 2

-Not exactly a stage direction, but a second reason for why “his” in the sentence “no more, perchance, does mine, nor his, nor hers” is referring to Gloucester and not Edmund: Kent’s response to this is “I have seen better faces in my time”, so “his” can’t be Edmund, since practically the first thing Kent says about Edmund in Act 1 Scene 1 is “hmmm yes that is a Nice Looking person”

-I’m revising what I said in part 1 (mainly just about where Edmund is standing on stage/ where everyone is standing on stage)- I’m changing this scene to be more in favor of @suits-of-woe’s Cornwall Theory. (HEY PEOPLE, GO READ THE CORNWALL THEORY. I don’t just link it here for fun- I link it so you all can go read it)

-SO

-just to reiterate what I said last time about this scene- Edmund enters to break up Kent and Oswald’s fight with a sword (more specifically- Edgar’s two handed sword that he just used to fight Edgar and stab himself with). His arm is wounded from that one time about two seconds ago when he stabbed it. It’s been bandaged. He’s holding the sword well enough, but it’s clear that he wouldn’t be able to actually fight anyone with it.

-NOW MOVING ON TO NEW STUFF

-at “..come, I’ll flesh ye..”, Kent draws his sword and challenges Edmund. (Wait. His sword’s already drawn, right? Ok then nevermind, he just challenges Edmund.)

-Gloucester, Cornwall, and Regan Enter, and walk a bit onto the stage.

-At “Weapons! Arms! What’s the matter here??”, Gloucester notices the fight and takes like 5 steps away from it. It’s clear that he’s like “nope nope nope not dealing with this today-”

-Regan stays where she is. She’s not particularly scared of the fight, and knows that neither Kent nor Oswald would dare injure her, considering she’s literally the king’s daughter.

-Cornwall, however, at his lines of “Keep peace, upon your lives! He dies that strikes again!” moves to stand in between Edmund and Cornwall- ie facing Cornwall, in a way that would be protecting Edmund. He also is confident neither Kent nor Oswald would hurt him- he’s higher ranking than both of them.

(Illustrated for your convenience) (Scribbled out Edmund bc I didn’t know how tall to make him)

-Cornwall can see clearly that Edmund is in no condition to fight (at least not with a two handed sword). As the next few lines are said, Cornwall takes the sword from Edmund, in a “don’t worry about this- I got this” sort of way. He gently pushes Edmund towards where Gloucester and Regan are standing- in the same sort of way; showing “hey. I’ll deal with this. It’s not your job to defend us. Go chill with the rest of The Group.”

ACT 3 SCENE 3

-remember when I said Gloucester is angry in this scene?

-yeah well I gotta really push that point using some ✨stage directions✨ rather than just “Gloucester yells a lot”

-ANYWAY

-The Door (TM) is turned sideways for this scene, and Gloucester and Edmund enter from the side of the stage

Here’s a totally helpful illustration

-Gloucester is clearly angry, Edmund is Hiding His Emotions (TM).

-Gloucester starts his lines while he grabs the doorknob and forcefully opening the door. As Gloucester storms on to the main part of the stage, he slams the door behind him, right before Edmund could walk through it after him. Because of course, Gloucester has to forget that Edmund exists at lest once a scene. Edmund stands outside the door for a sec, as if saying “......wow.”. Then he enters and joins Gloucester inside.

ACT 5 SCENE 3

-As Albany says “Half blooded fellow, yes!”, last time I wrote that Edmund is momentarily surprised, then glares at him. This time I’m here to change this a bit-

At first I was picturing it like This:

But then I was like, “no,, that won’t make Edmund 100% more sympathetic- that would only make him like 65% more sympathetic.”

-anyway, we gotta raise Albany’s aggression level. Because if they’re equally aggressive to each other The Audience might just. Not get it. They won’t get that we’re out here trying our hardest to make ya sympathize with Edmund.

-So. And Hear me out. Because this DOES have a point. I’m gonna get to it. So to raise Albany’s aggression levels here, Albany grabs Edmund’s tie or jabot (whatever neck piece the costume has. I don’t care how historically accurate the costumes are) and pulls him towards him (in like. An aggressive Way.) He lets go as soon as he finishes saying that one line- he only did it to prove he was serious about challenging Edmund. Either way, he did It in a more pulling forward motion than a grabbing on motion, and so now Edmund is standing on the other side of Albany. (Was this basically just a way for me to change where Edmund is standing? Maybe.)

-now that Edmund is standing on the other side of Albany, the scene continues as I wrote it out in part 1- ie Edmund glares at Albany. Except Albany is no longer standing in front of him (ie facing him).

Here’s an illustration to help out-

So far, Edmund never glared at anyone (or showed his anger in general) straight to a person’s face. He always only lets his mask fall when he’s alone or when the subject of his anger can’t see him. So now it’s more consistent- their positions on the stage changed so that Edmund can still glare at Albany, and also doesn’t have to drop his act.

-AND THAT’S IT-

(-FOR NOW-)

#King lear #shakespeare #I am trying here #I am making an attempt

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waiting4inspiration · 6 years ago

Text

Just Try II (Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader)

Summary: You go to Bruce requesting more supplements only to find that he can’t help you. Your original scent stirs up some suspicion in the team

Warnings: NSFW, male masturbation, strong language

Just Try Masterlist

You needed to see Bruce immediately after Bucky left. He made you panic when he got so close to you and it felt like your suppressants were wearing off quicker.

Pulling Bruce out of the room where he was with Tony, you drag him towards his lab before closing the door behind you. "(Y/n), what's going on?"

"I need stronger suppressants asap," you say, turning around to face him. "Barnes is driving me crazy," you rant, pacing the room with your hands pulling at your hair. "He's gonna ruin everything I've worked for to keep this secret. Just typical of an alpha."

Bruce stops you from speaking by walking forward. "You're on the strongest suppressants there are. If they're not working anymore, there's nothing you can do," he explains, placing a hand on your shoulder. "I did warn you about this." Shaking your head, you step back and glance at the floor. "Maybe it's time to tell the team."

Shaking your head vigorously at him, you bit your lower lip. "No. No, that's not going to happen."

"They're going to find out sooner or later," he says, taking the glasses off and placing them on the table. "Your body's gotten used to the suppressants. You're going to go into heat and I won't be able to lie for you again." Sighing at his words, you lean against the table behind you as you stare at the ground.

He's right. He's always been right. Its the hardest decision you have to make, but it has to be done.

Bucky regrets a lot of things he's done. But more recently he's been regretting his actions in your lab. Normally he has his alpha urges under control. So why do you make him lose control completely, making him probably look like an asshole?

You probably see him as a typical alpha. One that thinks highly of themselves, taking what they want whenever they want it.

That isn't what he is. He wants to get to know you, find out what your interests are, what foods you like, everything. He wants to treat you like the person you are and not by your status.

But that was another thing. You confuse him beyond anything he's ever come across. You act like a beta and from what he's heard from the others you sound like a beta. Then why does he think differently when he catches your scent?

Your scent definitely isn't that of a beta. He's been around too long to know that for sure. Betas don't smell as sweet as you do. A beta's scent isn't supposed to make him want to take you right where you are, claim you and fill you with his pups.

The mere thought of you makes his cock hard. Images of you flash through his mind. At first, he remembers your face as you stated in concentration at his arm, which leads him to think about your touch that sent a shiver down his spine.

You didn't touch him with hesitation or fear. Your touch was gentle and soothing. He could only imagine what it would feel like if you touch his skin.

Thinking about your touch, he groans when images of you wrapping your hand around his hard cock blind his mind.

The cold water running over his body doesn't do anything for the heat that radiates off his skin. Letting his hand wrap around his shaft, his head falls back as he uses his metal arm to steady himself against the shower wall.

Slowly, he moves his hand up and down just as he imagines you would do. Taking it slow, it wants to draw it out, make it last longer. Picturing your face and those eyes that stare up at him, he begins to pant as his hand speeds up. "Fuck," he breathes, picturing you underneath him, spread wide open for him as slick runs down your thighs.

Pumping faster, he groans as his release inches closer. Your name falls off his lips like a sweet mantra and his hips buck when he imagines what your moans would sound like. It causes him to come with a loud growl, spilling his seed as he leans against his arm that keeps him from falling over.

You're definitely going to be the death of him. He has to figure out what you really are, why he's so attracted to you. He doesn't care if you turn out to be a beta, he has to be with you. Claim you. Mark you and make you his. But he has no idea how he's going to do that.

Laying in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, you think about how you're going to break it to the team that you've been lying to them for three years. Moreover, how the alphas are going to react to the fact that you're an omega, seeing as there are six of them excluding Bucky.

Bucky. That damn alpha is the reason why you're in this mess in the first place. If it wasn't for him and his intoxicating scent, the suppressants might not be wearing off so quickly which would have given you more time to figure this whole thing out.

You could just run away.

Scoffing to yourself, you turn on your side and place your arm under your head as you stare out the window that shows the stars. You have to tell them and it has to be tomorrow. The sooner you tell them, the sooner they can let out their anger and the sooner it can all be over with.

Not to mention that your heat could hit you at any moment and it wouldn't be the best way to tell a compound that consists of mainly alpha that you're an omega

You never dreaded the morning as much as you do today. Thinking about locking yourself in your room, it seems like a great option compared to the huge burden you have to do. So, you force yourself to get out of bed, change out of your pajamas and get out of the room before you change your mind.

Walking into the kitchen, you find most of the team already eating breakfast which causes your heart to skip a beat. You feel like your back at school and have to give a presentation in front of a class of teenagers again. It sucks.

Your presence doesn't go unnoticed, sadly, as Nat lifts her head and spots you at the door. "Look who's finally out the lab," she teases, giving you a smirk as you walk over to the coffee machine.

"Wow, never been greeted like that before," you say back, smiling at her and you fill your cup with coffee. She smiles at you before turning back to her food. Placing your mug on the counter, you grab a plate that sits beside Thor who stared at you with confusion on his face.

Glancing up at him, you swallow a breath before quickly turning around to avoid the alpha's stare before it affects you. "What smells so good?" Tony questions as he walks into the room.

Silently cursing to yourself and your damn jeans you stare at the plate in your hands as you dish the food onto it. "I thought I was the only one who could smell it. Lavender and vanilla right?" Sam questions.

Fuck.

"Yeah. Hit me as soon as I walked in the room," Tony says, grabbing a mug beside you.

Shit.

"It happened when (Y/n) walked in the room." You could feel Thor's eyes burn into the back of your head as he spoke.

Fucking shit...

Turning around slowly, you find that everyone has their eyes on you. Some confused, some predatory. It wasn't until Bucky walked in that things only got worse.

His eyes land on you as soon as your scent hits him. It's stronger than it was yesterday and it causes him to shift uncomfortably in his spot.

You ran out of suppressants this morning and now his scent, along with the scent of the other alphas around you caused the suppressants in your bloodstream to run out, enveloping the room in your scent.

"So, I have to tell you guys something..."

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