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heeracha · 2 years

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## sneaking out. — p. jay

content/warning(s): bf!jay x f!reader, hubby!jay in the end with a daughter. daughter's in legal age. swearing (i think ? i just kinda assume now that i did swear bcs hey thats what i do), a bit of lying. basically, things you do when you sneak out lmAO anyway yeah, unproof read ofc

wc: 1.4k

note: heeracha comeback era ig ??? and not less than 24 hrs she ghosts again /j,,, and omg wow ??? its not a hee fic ???? gasps,,, anyway,, uh,,, this is kinda shit, but i got this idea and it somehowjust seriously fits jay. anyway, hope u enjoy this little something something here <3

“honey, you know we adore jay with our whole hearts.” your mom says and you know it right away, she’s not going to let you go on a date. “but we have to go to your aunt’s tomorrow for your nephew’s birthday. she’s really looking forward to this.”

“i’ll wake up early, i promise, mom.” you say and she frowns. “i’m always on time!”

“you know that’s a lie, you’re always the last one and always late.” your dad butts in as he helps you and your mom with the dishes. “just one night, honey, okay? you’re always with him. even when it was your cousin’s wedding, it felt like you two were the one getting married.”

you frown and they smile at you. “we have to leave at 5 am. you know how traffic it is.” your mom says.

“and 25 years of being married and always going there, dad still can’t memorize the way there.” you mumble and your mom laughs, hitting her hip with yours. when you’re done with the dishes, you go upstairs after saying good night to your parents. you take your phone out, texting your boyfriend.

hey, wait for me outside the window?

jay <3: youre not allowed to go?

no,, but yk how i am

jay <3: yup i do.

jay <3: if ur parents get mad at me, istg, y/n

you always say that, did we ever get caught?

jay <3: ,,,,,,,,no

jay <3: still, im scared

jay <3: and yk it’s okay if u dont go out with me tonight

jay <3: we can do it the other day

that’s what you always say, but you get pouty and sad like a five year old

jay <3: can you blame me?

im ready, r u there?

jay <3: yup

after putting your covers and blanket over the pillows acting as your body, you lock the door and go to the window, opening it. you wave at jay, who’s hiding behind the bush. he waves back, going closer and you climb out, closing the window as jay waits for you. he holds you by your waist, putting you down and he looks at you, frowning.

“one of these days, you have to actually obey your parents.” jay says and you kiss his pouty lips.

“they never told me to not sneak out.” you say, holding his hand as you two walk wherever your feet could take you.

the two of you end up going for a drive, watching the stars and talk about the most random shit ever as if you two weren’t going to talk later that same day. jay was a nervous wreck about you two getting caught and your parents getting mad at him, but whenever you told him you should go home, he’d go whiny and tell you that you two will go home after an hour.

eventually, jay takes you home. turning the ignition off and getting out of the car. jay goes to you as you climb out, holding your hand as he pushes the door close. he locks it, walking you to your house, since he parked a block away.

four in the morning. wow.

“see, we didn’t get caught.” you say and jay chuckles, kissing your cheek. “i’ll see you next week? sunoo’s birthday.”

“okay. text me later when you arrive?” jay says and you nod. “i love you.”

“i love you, too.” you say. “even though you almost shit your pants at the thought of my parents getting mad at you.”

jay shakes his head, chuckling. “i can’t have them disapproving of our relationship.” he says and you smile. “go, sleep. you need to rest.”

“thank you, love.” you softly say. “i’ll call you tomorrow.”

“i’ll wait for you.” he says and you climb up your window, getting inside your room. you wave at jay before closing the window and he smiles. jay goes back to his car, climbing in and sending you a text before driving home.

jay <3: good night (morning lmao), beautiful. i love you.

you smile, putting your phone down as you lay on your bed, closing your eyes as you let your slumber take you in with a smile on your face, remembering the night you had with jay. even dreaming about it.

but it’s taken away when your phone rings.

you sit up, grabbing your phone and answering it. you look at your side, seeing jay sleeping peacefully with his arms loosely around your waist. you press the phone against your ear. “hello?” you softly say, not wanting to wake up your sleeping husband.

many years after, you and jay got married, started a family just like you two always planned after graduating college and being in a stable place in your careers.

“mom?” your daughter says. “can you pick me up?”

“i thought you were going to stay over there?” you ask, slowly getting out of bed and replacing your body with your pillow in jay’s arms. you took some clothes, going to the bathroom to change in.

“yeah, but they invited people over that i don’t know and i’m kind of uncomfortable.” she says and you hum.

“alright, where will i pick you up?” you ask.

after your daughter tells you the location, you drive right away. you wait for her to get in the car and when she does, you say nothing and simply stare at her. she stares back and you chuckle. “what did your dad tell you?” you ask.

“not to go out.” she answers.

“and what did you do?” you ask.

“he didn’t say i’m not allowed to sneak out.” she says and you shrug.

she is your daughter.

“you’re not telling dad, are you?” she asks and you chuckle.

“tell your dad?” you repeat.

“mom, please?” she says, pouting. “i promise, i won’t do it again. and i told you that i was going.”

“of course, i’m not telling your dad.” you say. “if i tell your dad, he’s going to know i picked you up and i knew about you sneaking out. we’ll both be dead.” you say and your daughter covers her face, chuckling. “does your head hurt?”

“a little.” she says. “i drank a little bit.”

you hum. “it’s only five in the morning,” you say. “we’ll go home at seven. we’ll go get coffee, get you sobered up. when we get home, you tell your dad that we went out for breakfast and when he asks why isn’t he with us, you say because he was still asleep. okay?”

“okay.” she says. “you know so much about how to sneak out.”

“i did it a lot back then.” you say as you drive away, going to the nearest coffee shop. just like planned, time was spent sobering your daughter up and getting the smell of alcohol out of her. when clock strikes seven, you come back home, pulling up in the garage as you two go out and get inside the house.

when you close the door, just in time, jay, who is still in his pajamas, comes out of the kitchen with his hands in his pocket. “where were you two?” he asks and your daughter looks at you. you only nod towards jay, gesturing to her to go and greet him.

“breakfast.” she says and you look at your husband, smiling. “i got up early and mom was here, too. so i asked her to have breakfast with me outside.” she lies through her teeth.

jay nods. “were your friends sad that you didn’t get to go last night?” he asks and you daughter shakes her head.

“i’m always out with them, so it was fine.” she says and jay nods. “i got you some breakfast. i feel bad for not waking you up to join us.” she says, holding out a paper bag of food for him.

jay smiles, nodding as he takes it. “thank you, sweetheart,” he says.

“it’s nothing,” she softly says. “i’m gonna go to my room. i’m feeling sleepy again.” she says and jay nods. she comes towards jay, kissing his cheek. “morning, dad.”

“morning. sleep well.” he says and your daughter sprints to her room, looking at you with a smile. when you two hear the door close, jay chuckles. “she really is your daughter.” he says, shaking his head as he turns around to go back inside the kitchen.

you laugh. “how did you know?” you ask, following him.

jay smiles, opening the bag as he eats. “who always helped you sneak?” he asks and you smile. “she’s using your tactics, you’re using mine.” jay says and you laugh. “i’d be mad, but you bought me breakfast, so thanks.”

you shake your head, chuckling. “i love you.” you say and jay only smiles.

“i love you, too.”

— august 24, 2022. heeracha.

#why is this so....... so thiS IS ME AS A MOM /J LMAO MAYBE #Hiraya-M #enhypen imagines #enhypen reactions #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #jay imagines #jay reactions #jay fluff #jay scenarios #jay x reader

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patchofsunlight · 4 years

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Hands | Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Bakugou learned from a young age to keep his hands to himself, even when his entire body longed for touch and his eyes filled with tears at the loss of a comforting habit.

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

WARNINGS: hurt/comfort, angst, touch starved bakugou!!, kind of a character study? i think about him a lot, one kiss, cursing, consensual hand holding (PFFFT), mitsuki fucking sucks but what’s new

I hope you like this!! please remember feedback is always appreciated and all that. thank you for reading!! sorry if it sucks LMAO I DID MY BEST AND I KINDA LIKE IT

When he was a child, before he even cared about quirks or rankings or strength, Bakugou Katsuki loved holding hands.

No one knew exactly why, but that was just something he liked. He would hold Izuku’s hand while they talked and ran around the neighborhood, he would take his teacher's hand in his ever so softly whenever he walked over to their desk to ask a question. Katsuki would latch onto his dad with the most loving, tiny grip he could muster, and he would even interlace pinkies with his mom when she was having a good day and didn’t deem his manners “too soft”, “too weak”, “too foolish”. Those were nice days in the Bakugou household.

Bakugou Katsuki was five years old when he had his heart broken for the first time. It was a few weeks after his quirk manifested and he was just so excited to play hero (with a quirk, this time!) alongside his friends after school that he didn’t even hesitate before grabbing Izuku’s hand exactly like he always did, jumping up and down with energy and happiness, rambling about how he was gonna be the number one hero one day — until Izuku screamed, pulling his hand away with a painful expression. Katsuki furrowed his eyebrows, confused at his best friend’s antics, and then he saw it: the raw, burned flesh of his palm.

Katsuki had hurt his best friend.

It’s very easy to fix objects, his dad used to tell him while stitching up one of his ripped shirts, you just get a bit of glue or yarn and you put it back together, a smile graced his lips at the feeling of his son taking his hand immediately after he let go of the sewing needle, but people are a lot harder to patch up, Katsu. People can’t be fixed, sometimes.

He wasn’t exactly sure of when he started shoving his hands inside his pockets, when he started opening doors with his feet and touching people with his shoulders to get their attention. It took him a while to understand that that first occasion wasn’t an accident, and that controlling his quirk when he got too excited or just overly happy was too hard and the security he got from all those tender touches he so eagerly searched from everyone in his life wasn’t worth the risk. The best thing Katsuki could do, for himself and for others, was to keep his hands to himself, even if they felt cold and empty and his big red eyes filled with tears at the loss of such a comforting habit.

He told himself it didn’t matter. You’d have to overgrow that over time, anyway, his mom reminded him at some point. Such childish, silly bullshit. Only softies hold hands, Katsuki, and we both know you’re not a softie.

It was easy to pretend he didn’t miss it. After a few years, the lack of touch was simply another part of his life he consciously chose to ignore, another longing he conditioned himself not to think about. It wasn’t like many people noted his abrupt change in behavior either — there were other things about him that were much more worthy of attention than that, like his killer quirk and quick brain, like his determination and ambition. Who cared about the fact that little Bakugou Katsuki didn’t want to hold hands anymore? Who cared about the fact that little touchy and clingy Bakugou Katsuki now barely touched others?

Such childish, silly bullshit. Only softies hold hands, Katsuki, and we both know you’re not a softie.

He met her during his second year at UA. Y/N was mostly quiet, but still friendly and hardworking, fighting hard for her place as the number one student in Class 2-B. A project involving the two classes put them as partners, and project meetings soon became sparring sessions that turned into study group that led to study dates and then real dates and, by the beginning of his senior year, Katsuki had gotten himself a girlfriend.

He wasn’t certain if she noticed the way he purposely kept his hands out of reach when they walked side by side, or if she ever saw how he always made sure his palms were pointing away from her skin whenever they hugged or cuddled. He didn’t think anyone would ever pay enough attention to him to the point of perceiving his hesitancy. It didn’t matter that Bakugou had gained complete control of his quirk, it didn’t matter that he still felt his skin and his hands tingling with the urge, the craving for touch — the satisfaction wasn’t worth the risk, not the stupid satisfaction he didn’t even need. Such childish, silly bullshit. Bakugou Katsuki was doing very well with letting go of old customs, no doubt.

But Y/N noticed. God, of course she did — she noticed all the longing gazes, all the small flinches. She noticed how he never let his hands touch hers and at first it made her worried. Didn’t he want to touch her? Had she done something wrong? Her boyfriend wasn’t the best at communicating his feelings, even though he had been putting in the effort to talk to her whenever he felt a bit under the weather or bothered.

However, this seemed like a bigger problem, like something he would never speak of unless she brought it up. It seemed deeper.

“Katsu?”

He lifted his scarlet eyes from the book in his hands and turned them to her sitting figure. They were both on his bed, despite curfew starting in less than an hour and the knowledge they shouldn’t be alone in his dorm. To be honest, Aizawa was quite used to watching the Class B girl sneak out of his student’s room every other night, wearing one of his many hoodies and those shorts that she always left in his closet. As long as they weren’t causing him any trouble, Eraserhead didn’t cause them any trouble, either.

“Yeah?” his voice was clearly tired after a day full of training and studying, a hint of sleepiness dripping from his tone.

“How come you never let me hold your hand?”

Katsuki froze on the spot, feeling his heart pick up its pace until it was beating so loud he could hear it by his ear, throbbing. He gulped harshly, sweat immediately gathering up on his hands from his own anxiety. She had noticed?

“What do you mean?” he tried to laugh calmly, but his chuckle sounded forced and nervous. He put the book away.

“You never let me hold your hand,” Y/N’s cheeks were tinted red with shyness. She had been pondering on how to talk to him about this for days now, yet seeing him so flustered made her surprisingly tense. “You avoid touching me with your hands in general, actually,” her chuckle sounded as forced and nervous as his, “is… Is there something wrong? Would you feel better if I stopped touching you so much? Does it make you uncomfortable? Because I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Katsu. You can talk to me about things like that, you know it.”

He couldn’t get himself to answer, unable to move or truly process her words. He really thought he had been slick, huh? He really thought she’d never notice, he really thought she’d never care. How would she feel if he told her he was afraid to hurt her, that he was afraid he would lose control of his quirk and burn her somehow, like he had done with Izuku all those years ago? Would she think he was childish and silly, too? Such childish, silly bullshit, Bakugou Katsuki scared of holding hands with his girlfriend, scared of touching her and holding her like she deserved to because what if it went wrong? What if he fucked it up? The best thing Katsuki could do, for himself and for others, was to keep his hands to himself, even if they felt cold and empty and his big red eyes filled with tears at the loss of such a comforting habit.

People are a lot harder to patch up, his father told him. He didn’t want to be guilty of screwing this up, didn’t want to destroy the relationship he cherished so, so much. Would she think he was weak for being this reluctant? Would she laugh at his stupid antics and tell him to grow up and stop being such a softie? Would she get mad? Should he even tell her?

“Katsu?” her soft voice relaxed his muscles like it habitually did, and he sighed deeply before meeting her worried eyes. “Talk to me?”

Y/N had always had this amazing talent of making him feel at ease. Ever since they met, so many months ago, she had this blinding quality that urged him to be quieter, calmer, less defensive. She didn’t even have to try tearing down his walls — they simply melted away when she smiled at him for the first time. He had never really talked about this issue with anyone else before, and he didn’t know how to even start, but Y/N made him want to try. Still, the words felt heavy on his tongue.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered so quietly that she leaned in to hear him, furrowing her eyebrows in disagreement.

“Come on, Katsu. Please?”

He inhaled deeply. She stared patiently, waiting for him to organize his own thoughts enough to explain the thousands of things running through his mind. When his eyes met hers again, he felt warm all over. Katsuki loved the way she looked at him — there was no fear, no ulterior interest, no nonsensical admiration. She looked at him and she saw… Katsuki. Just that. And, strangely, that seemed enough.

The boy averted his eyes from hers. “I don’t want to hurt you with my quirk.”

Oh. Oh? That, well, that was definitely unexpected. The crease in Y/N’s eyebrows deepened.

“Why would you ever hurt me, Katsuki?”

The future hero lifted his head to look at her instantly, confusion swimming in his red gaze as he answered, “I mean by accident, Y/N. I—,” he almost stopped himself right there, yet her expression caused him to continue, “I really liked holding hands when I was younger, you know? With my friends, teachers, family, and all that,” his ears were bright pink with embarrassment that subsided when she smiled softly at the new information, “it made me feel safe or whatever. Then I—then I got my quirk and, sometimes, when I held hands with people it just—,” he exhaled heavily before letting out a sad, defeated laugh, “I have burned a nasty amount of people. I don’t want to do that with you, too. I’d never want to hurt you.”

Katsuki was hardly a vulnerable person. He tried to be, yes, because he wanted this to work and for it to work he had to meet her halfway somehow during certain moments, but it was so, so difficult. It was so difficult for him to open up and talk about one of his biggest insecurities of all time, about one of the things he most craved for. He didn’t want to scare her away.

“Katsuki.” Her tone was serious and she stared at him with such intensity that he lost the ability to breathe for a second. “I understand where you’re coming from, but that’s bullshit.”

Bakugou blinked. “What?”

“You’d never hurt me, okay? I know you wouldn’t. I trust you, Katsu, so much. I’m sorry I didn’t ask you about this before,” she bit her lip thoughtfully while he could only stand there, dumbfounded with her reaction.

Out of all his imagined worst-case scenarios, this was a surprise.

“Katsu,” the girl called to him again, smiling lovingly in that way that made his world spin in its axis when they first met, “do you trust me too?”

“Of course I do,” there was no hesitation this time. Of course he did.

“Can I touch your hands?”

Once again, he froze on the spot. She looked at him expectantly.

People are a lot harder to patch up. She was trying, though. She was really trying to fix the ripped pieces of himself he tried to bury under anger and seclusion, pretending there was nothing wrong and that this was just how things were supposed to be.

Bakugou looked down at his own hands, studying them carefully. With a last shaky exhale, he nodded.

She took his hands in hers, letting her fingers interlace with his cautiously so as to not startle him. Her thumb caressed his palm ever so softly and he fought the instinctive flinch that threatened to push her away. After years without it, this type of touch felt too intimate, too close, too new.

He liked it.

He smiled.

“See? Nothing to worry about.” Y/N smiled back, grinning when he took it upon himself to squeeze her hand in appreciation. “You’re fine, Katsuki. I like holding your hand.”

His smile grew wider and he leaned in to kiss her, living for the feeling of her fingers squeezing his while their lips moved slowly. They had kissed a million times before, yet this felt different. If given the chance, Katsuki probably wouldn’t mind being stuck in that moment forever, with her lips on his and his hands on hers — Y/N had melted away all his walls and defenses from the start, and he was incredibly glad. He was incredibly glad for her.

His heart was beating fast inside his chest, especially when she pulled one of his hands up slightly to let it cup her face. A shiver went down his spine as he felt the curve of her jaw under his fingertips, the softness of her skin touching his. When there was not any air left in their lungs, they parted from each other. She turned her face to kiss his palm affectionately and his entire face seemed to burst with love and gratitude.

“I like holding your hand, too.”

She giggled, and, for the first time, Bakugou felt like it’d be alright if he decided not to keep his hands to himself. Such childish, silly bullshit, waiting around when he could’ve been holding hands this whole time.

A/N: so that was it!!! i hope you liked it!!! hehe hello

taglists

all: @kiedhara @wingeddemonclub @thedemigodsarealivebitch @ray-ofmoonlight

also tagging @tsuhika bc i am: a fan and you gave us permission to tag you in shit SOO KJSFBIUEFB LMAO SORRY

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

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danniburgh · 3 years

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Rushingly Bittersweet (Javier Peña x f!reader) part 23

Pairing: Javier Peña x ofc//f!reader with name.

Summary: After the fall of Escobar everything starts happening way too fast for Javier; his raise, his new office, his new team, the Cali cartel’s operation, the sudden arrival of a new agent that was transferred to his team for no apparent reason, the way he was falling in love with her almost unintentionally.

And he couldn’t seem to stop any of that.

Word count: +6.4k

Chapter warnings: lmao angst and then fluff, a brief mention of food, and drugs and a dog.

A/N: This chapter is set after season three. // aAAAAAA this is so long i dont even why but it took me like ALL day FUCK FUCK FUCK anyway thanks to all my babies that got me through the desperation of wanting this to write itself lmao, also two chapters and we are DONE with the main story holy shit

ao3 // fic index // Masterlist // fic playlist

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓 let me know if you wanna be tagged

←previous // next→

gifs: @pascalsky

Javier groaned when he sat up and moved his legs to get them out of the bed and looked at the alarm clock on his nightstand; three forty-eight in the morning. He turned on the lamp, reached at his nape and scratched with blunt nails and reached for the pack of smokes that he left on the nightstand before laying down to try to sleep with the other hand.

He pulled the last one out of the pack and stood up to throw the empty carton in the trashcan near the door; he eyed the empty pack from the day before in the bottom of the can with the cigarette clinging to his lips thanks to near dry spit making them sticky and let out a deep sigh.

It wasn’t working.

His tongue moved to shift the cigarette from his lips and he let it fall inside the trashcan, knowing it wouldn’t be the last one he put between his lips, but at least he didn’t light it.

Javier thought of getting out of the room and raiding his dad’s bar again, but he knew it wouldn’t do him any good.

It wasn’t working.

He knew it, and it couldn't be denied any longer. He wasn’t getting any younger and his old ways weren’t helping him forget as they used to ten or fifteen years before.

Javier walked back to the bed and sat on the edge, letting his half naked body fall backwards on the mattress and looking at the ceiling, he felt his hand twitch and he felt it empty without a nicotine stick firmly pressed between his index and his thumb but did nothing to calm it down.

Ten or fifteen years before: had it really been that long? Javier huffed at nothing and scratched his chest, leaving his hand there, uselessly wondering what would it be of him if he did something different; incidentally working through years and years of missteps, mishappens, mistakes, and shaping them in some other way that would have saved him from five months of poor sleep and constant drunkenness, five months of chain-smoking and lack of sharpness, five months of only remembering the bad things he had done and the bad things he deserved.

He huffed again because of course his retirement wouldn’t be him sitting on a porch to enjoy the evening Texas breeze and a glass of scotch; even if he had tried it.

It was having nightmares every third night he wanted nothing but to shove deep inside his head, but that then, reluctantly, he had to tell his new therapist his dad had forced him to go to.

It was having to remember all the men he saw dying every time he heard the words war or coke or shooting. Having to remember them changing and fighting and dying for a cause he wasn’t sure if he still believed in. Having to remember Carrillo every time he and Steve talked on the phone.

It was remembering you each time someone sent him a letter congratulating his work or asking for consultation or asking for an interview; because he had an idea of what you had been through and he was sure he didn’t deserve all that claptrap. He did nothing but cause chaos and destruction and death and even though his therapist said it wasn’t his fault he knew it was because he aided for it to happen.

But you? You did everything you could to find yourself a way to recover what was yours, and you still lost it.

Javier sat up again and after six exact seconds of consideration, he leaned forward and opened his nightstand drawer. He took the black tape he had been clinging to for five months and held it in front of him for a couple of minutes.

He chuckled at himself and gripped the small cassette, took from the drawer his tape player, pressed the red button for it to open, let the tape fall in the slit and closed it, turned it on and rewinded the tape, trying to make the calculations in his head of how many times he had repeated that process as the tape ran to the beginning.

He put the headphones on, laid down back on the bed and pressed play.

“Hi, Javi, uhm…”

God, how he missed you.

The phone rang again, fuck the phone, you thought, and hid your face under a pillow, trying to fall asleep again despite the clear signal that you were no longer sleepy.

And the phone rang again, you lifted your head from the cocoon of pillows and eyed the clock on your nightstand, who was calling you at five seventeen in the morning?

Grunting, you got out of the bed and walked out of the bedroom to the small space that made your living room, dining room and kitchen and got to the phone.

“Hello?” your voice was a deep groan, and you cleared your throat.

“Another letter came for you, when are you gonna change your address?” your dad’s voice broke through the receiver and you closed your eyes, breathing in and out the stress it was already provoking in you.

“I’ll get to it, dad,” you replied “are you gonna send it to me or can I go to the house?” you questioned, feeling already your lower lip tremble.

“I’ll send it, your mom doesn’t wanna see you yet,” he let out in a stern voice “sorry, pumpkin.” he whispered and hung up the phone.

You sat on the armrest of the loveseat next to the phone and let your tears fall from your eyes, not even bothering about cleaning them anymore.

You sighed and nodded to yourself, letting your tired gaze roam around your tiny living space and you missed the openness of your family house, the one you had come back to and were expelled from by an angry mother that felt ashamed of the truth you told them.

But you had to give it to her, she didn’t even know you went down to Colombia, or that you’d been having drug issues, or that they fired you.

She had told you she didn’t know who you were anymore.

Neither did you.

So you left, they couldn’t be more disappointed in you than you were in yourself, so you walked out as your mom wanted and tried to find a home for yourself as you still wondered what the hell were you supposed to do. There wasn’t a handbook or a protocol that taught people how to stop being a DEA agent, the government didn’t train people to go back to civility or even offered a program to forget all the shit you had lived in the places they had sent you.

You stayed in your hometown, unknowingly to your old friends and twenty minutes away from your parent’s home and didn’t leave your house unless absolutely necessary; Albuquerque wasn’t a small town, but it wasn’t big, and you were dreading walking past someone who knew you before you had lost yourself and tried to explain all your baggage, you didn’t have the time, or the energy. And you didn’t want people feeling sorry for yourself, with the woman in the mirror you had enough.

Everything seemed pointless, and you felt heavy all the time, as if you were carrying a chain ball in each foot and shackles in your hands while being dragged down by quicksand.

In the kitchen's corner you saw the last two boxes you still didn’t have energy to unpack after moving them across the continent and let out a teary sight as you stood from the armrest and walked to them.

You opened the first box and saw it filled with office clutter; pencils, markers, some notebooks and notepads, the brown journal you had been looking for to burn on your stove; a set of keys you weren’t sure what they opened and in the bottom, folded pieces of paper.

“Oh, no.” you muttered to the air of the warm kitchen and you doubted reaching in for it… The hesitation lasted two minutes but for you it was like two hours, you knew what it was, you knew why it was in that box and when you took it it felt hot and heavy. You were holding feelings in that letter, you were holding hours of shed tears and memories you didn’t want to have anymore. Memories that still haunted you whenever you smelled roasted colombian coffee and saw an ad of Malduros on tv.

You didn’t open it. You knew what was written there. And for a few seconds you thought of burning it on the stove instead.

“Well, I don’t want this, might as well send it.” you muttered under your breath, recognizing it would do you some good to stop holding to it, acknowledging it would do you some good to know he had it. If he wanted to rip it into millions of pieces or burn it or toss it in the trash or eat it, it was his problem.

You bit your lip as you walked to the phone; you hadn’t thought of him in a while. But as you sat on the loveseat all the shit you wanted to bury if not get rid of came back to your mind like a high wave of a rough sea; sharp, cold, gritty.

“Shit.” you gasped, trying to breathe in and out several times because you didn’t want to cry. It was too early for crying.

You grabbed the phone and thought who could have Javier’s address. God, even thinking of his name made your chest flutter and your stomach churn. You had fooled yourself into thinking he didn’t have an effect on you anymore, into even assuring five months was enough to forget him. What a fool.

You dialed the number of the only person you knew for sure knew the address by heart; the phone rang three times before it was answered.

“Hello?” a sleepy nasal voice greeted, and you smiled through the few tears that had accumulated in your eyes, grateful that he still had his embassy issued cell phone.

“Stod!” your smile was making your cheeks hurt, and you wondered in the back of your head when was the last time you had smiled.

“Who’s this? Flor?” he asked and you let out a stiff chuckle. You decided not to be a huge asshole and dump something heavy as your actual name that early in the morning, so you went with it.

“Yeah, sorry to call at this hour, did I wake you?” you played with the edge of the loveseat’s armrest.

“Kinda,” a noise of shuffle was heard “but it’s almost seven here, so I’m not that mad,” he teased, making you chuckle again “how are you? to what do I owe the honor?”

“Uhm, I–‌I’m calling to take advantage of you,” you said, hearing his chuckle through the line and a whisper of of course you did, “by any chance do you know Peña’s address in Texas?” you asked, closing your eyes and crossing your fingers, wishing for him to not ask:

“Why?”

“I–‌I have something of his...” you mumbled under your breath “I just found it and I wanna send it.” you said, which wasn’t technically a lie.

“Uh…” Stoddard hesitated, and you heard a faint of a pouring noise in the back that made you sigh, a cup of coffee would do you wonders, “well I do–I don't know if I’m allowed to just say it, y’know?” you frowned.

“Oh, come on, please?” you pleaded, your leg started bouncing because of the anxiety that was growing in your chest.

“What is it? is something important?” he asked.

“Super important,” you nodded even though he couldn’t see, “he needs it.”

“How do you know?” he questioned again, and you whined under your breath.

“Uhm, I ju–‌I just know, uhm…” since when were you a twitchy, nervous mess? “can’t you just tell me?”

“Not really, no.” he muttered in that voice that made you want to punch him and hug him at the same time.

You let out the air of your lungs and controlled your body.

You had promised yourself to tell the truth when it was necessary. So you were going to.

“Look, Stod, this is long to explain, okay?” you began, and he hummed affirmatively in response, “the only thing you need to know is that the thing I have here is very important that he gets because he needs to know that I kept it for him.” you said, closing your eyes again.

“Flor you just told me nothing.” he let out, his voice was being muffled and it sounded like he had something in his mouth.

“Fuck, Stoddard, I love him, okay?” you let out “and this thing I have is a letter that I need him to have so he knows I love him!” you panted and bit your lip when he didn’t answer.

You just had said out loud you loved someone, you just had said to someone you loved Javier Peña for the first time. Shit.

“Oh,” Stoddard said after a moment and you held your breath, “you have where to write?”

“You’re a fucking king!”

Six hours later, you wanted nothing else but to turn the fucking car around.

“This is a mistake, this is a fucking mistake!” you yelled inside your car, opening the glove box to toss there your sunglasses. The highway 285 was eternal, and you hated driving through it; it was empty, there was nothing but desert landscapes and the occasional tree, but you were halfway, just crossing the state border and there was nothing in the everlasting earth that would make you drive back home, not even your fucking hesitation, not even your self-doubt.

“What the fuck am I gonna say?” you asked yourself again, chewing on your lower lip and gripping the steering wheel, “am I just pulling on his driveway and knocking on his door and saying hi I’m sorry I broke your heart I have a letter for you? Fuck!” you saw the beginning of yet another town and you drove slowly looking for a gas station, “or better yet, I read this shit to him to complete the humiliation!” you turned your head for a second at the letter resting easily in the co-pilot’s seat and you groaned, finding a gas station. You were also hungry.

With the car’s tank full and a plastic bag filled with snacks for the remaining six hours, you sighed to yourself and started driving again.

“You’re doing this because you need closure,” you told yourself, shoving your hand into a bag of salted chips and bringing three to your mouth “if he doesn’t wanna see you, too bad, he’s gonna miss your haircut,” you mumbled, chewing at the same time “you leave the letter and let him decide what to do with it.”

With the highway 285 long behind you and the sky just beginning to turn orange, you had convinced yourself of your own reasons and you even had a plan to go back home as soon as you were done in Laredo. You also had promised yourself and all your Muertos, you wouldn’t react to Javier Peña if he didn’t react to you and as you had learned in your three-year station in México, you can’t break a promise you made to dead people.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you said when the marked map told you you were a block away from the Peña’s ranch house, you were chewing the last bit of a nearly melted chocolate bar you had bought hours ago as your nervousness betrayed you and you started chuckling at your impulses, “holy fuck, I wanna go home!”

But you were already there. The gate was open and there were two trucks parked on the driveway. So you sucked everything you were feeling, and you turned off the ignition. Fuck. It.

You breathed in and out several times before you unbuckled your seatbelt, grabbed the letter and opened the door. You did it again as you walked the gravel path to the house and were grateful it was already dark, so at least the night could help you hide until the last second.

You stopped walking, rationality coming back to you.

“What the fuck am I doing?” you whispered to yourself and turned around, shaking your head as you walked back to the car.

“Mija!” you heard behind you, you froze in place and stiffened at the sound of a thick accent in a rough and warm voice.

“Oh, no.” you said under your breath.

“It’s you!” you turned around, and you saw the face of the man you had only met through an old picture Javier carried with him at all times. “viniste.” (you came) behind him walked a black, large dog that ignored the man and huffed at you.

“I’m sorry?” your voice went out thin and high, and you wanted to chastise yourself for it. You had given yourself a seven-hour pep talk on the way, and you were already breaking.

“I told him,” the man rolled his eyes behind the glasses he was wearing and gestured for you to walk closer “Jesús Peña, nice to finally meet you,” he extended his hand to you and you took it and shook it, the dog got closer to you and smelled your legs, you tried to smile at him and at the dog but tears were already gathering inside your eyes “le dije que ibas a venir a buscarlo.” (I told him you’ll come looking for him)

“I’m sorry, Mr. Peña, I–‌I do–‌”

“Mr. Peña nada,” he interrupted, “call me Chucho,” you nodded and sniffed slightly “ven,” (come) he gestured again and started walking towards the house, “Pepe, métete.” (get inside) he called, and the dog trotted to his side.

“Wait, Chucho, wait!” you called him under your breath as you followed him, he didn’t stop.

“Come on in,” he opened the house door and waited for you to get inside. He nodded his head for you to walk in and you frowned.

“You don’t even know who I am, what ar–‌”

“I know enough,” he said solemnly, walked inside and you and the dog did too and he pointed to an armchair “siéntate, mija, he’s on the back.” he turned around and walked through an archway to what it looked like the kitchen and disappeared through a door, Pepe behind him.

“What the fuck.” you sobbed out, knowing you had little time to leave the letter you were clutching in your hands on the coffee table in front of you and walk out and leave for good. But you couldn’t move, you were in Javier’s house and you wanted to stop being there, but your body was frozen in place and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You wanted to scream at yourself, at your fucking impulses; you had all the opportunities to turn around and go back home, why didn’t you listen to your logical, rational, always right brain?

“Hi.” you heard behind your back and you covered your mouth with the hand that wasn’t holding the fucking letter.

You turned around and blinked the first two tears of what you already knew was going to be a sea of them.

He was wearing the red shirt. And God, it was his color.

Javier wanted to run away and hide.

He had just made peace with never seeing you again; he had just accepted that the only part he would have of you was that voice mail you had left him months before. But there you were, teary and gorgeous in front of him. Shaking and with your hands holding a piece of paper as if it were your lifeline.

His head was a contradiction, because he wanted to grab you and hug you all the same he wanted to grab you and shove you out of his house and his life.

“What are you doing here?” Javier asked, knowing deep inside him he wanted to tell you how good you looked and how much he liked your new hair. You let out a shaky breath at his deep voice. You had missed it.

It was the first time you saw him in five months, and the weight of your feelings for him fell again on your shoulders like a recently broken off boulder, heavy, rough edged and shapeless.

“I don’t know.” you answered truthfully, he sighed and deviated his eyes from you, you breathed in heavily and the only thing that got into your lungs was his essence. You cursed under your breath and he huffed, putting his hands on his hips and leaning to the side.

“How d'you found me?” he questioned, and you huffed through the tears.

“I have my resources.” you let out on a whisper. Trying to find his eyes, you needed to see his eyes.

“What do you want?” Javier asked again, and you deflated at the tone of his voice. The rational part of your brain yelled I told you so at your feelings and you knew it was right, you were expecting too much of yourself and of him.

“See you,” you bit your lower lip and Javier saw from the corner of his eyes how you scrunched up your nose, and he felt something inside his chest flutter, hating and loving all the same how much of you he still had stored inside his memory, “I have something for you.”

“Keep it.” he let out. You shook your head and raised your hand with the letter on it.

“Read it.” you half ordered, half pleaded, Javier chuckled and then shook his head, mimicking you.

“I don’t want it.” he knew he was lying to himself, he wanted to know what it was, he wanted to grip it and smell the paper and read it over and over but his body wasn’t responding to what his feelings were telling him and only responded, almost in automatic, to his prideful side, to that side of him that still resented you and himself.

“Alright then,” you said, standing straight after realizing you had regained the ability to read him even through your tears, and understanding there was something he was struggling with, “I’ll read it.”

“Stop.” Javier frowned and looked at you, his eyes pleading for you to do something you couldn’t decipher.

“I know, okay?” you said, trying to reassure him and yourself “I know I’m in no position to ask for shit,” Javier dropped his hands to the sides “but I just want ten minutes, just ten of your life, and you’ll never have to see me again if that’s what you want.”

You knew it was a risky thing to say, but you needed him to know, you needed him to understand you because you knew and he knew you did understand him. And he needed to know you. You and your version.

He said nothing, you took it as his queue to start so you breathed in deeply and unfolded the letter.

“Stop.” Javier said under his breath.

“No,” you wiped a tear off your cheek “I wrote this when I went back to Colombia after I got fired,” Javier looked at you and you saw his face quirk in something close to pain “uhm, before I wrote this I drove around Bogotá,” you recalled that last day in the city and how much it pained you to be there, “I went–‌I went to some of the places you told me you liked” you tried to smile and dropped your eyes to your shoes, trying to find something to cling to and compose yourself “even that little cafe you told me about, near the palace of justice, remember?” you sobbed out. And he called your name. Making you gasp.

“Stop,” you looked up at him and saw him frowning, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, “we don’t need this.”

“I do!” you let out, Javier brushed his lips with his thumb and felt his hand twitch in need of nicotine again “I need to tell you all this!” you wiped your tears away again “I need closure!” you cried out.

Javier felt his stomach turn around and all the blood of his body went to his feet. Fuck.

How could he had been so stupid? he got into his own feelings too much and he forgot that you had cried your eyes out to him all those months ago when you handed him everything you were in a couple of manila folders. He had gotten wrapped by his own feelings and the hurricane your declaration had created in his life that he had forgotten just how much you were suffering as well. Because he might have thought about you; all the time, every day; he thought about your past and your reasons and motivations. He even thought of you naked on his bed in Colombia, under his body, moaning and gasping when he needed some release, but he forgot to think about your feelings.

“I didn’t come here to ask for forgiveness because I know I don’t deserve it,” you said and Javier felt the wetness of a tear escaping his eye and making its way through his cheek, “I’m trying to get closure, Javier, please let me try.”

Javier nodded.

You cried more when you saw him brush a tear off with his thumb and chew the inside of his mouth. You wanted to run away; you were sure he was better before you came to his house and disrupted his peace; you were hurting him again, and you wanted to kneel in front of him and ask him for what you said you weren’t seeking. He made you want so much.

You sniffed and dropped your eyes to the open letter in your hand, Javier didn’t move from where he was standing.

“No amount of guilt will or can change the past,” you began, Javier crossed his arms on his chest and saw movement to his side, “that much I know. I kno–‌know that it doesn’t matter,” you sniffed again and Javier turned his head to watch the dog casually walking towards him and sitting next to his boots. You saw it too, and you let out a sad chuckle.

“Ignore him.” he just said. You nodded.

“Uhm, it doesn’t matter how much I apologize, or how many I’m sorry’s I mouth, forgiveness doesn’t come for free.” you didn’t want to lift your eyes to see him, so you continued.

Javier only saw you reading him something he was sure you had poured your heart into, and he wanted nothing but to hear what you wanted to say to him, but he couldn’t focus into listening, because there you were, again in front of him doing what he never dared to do.

Opening your fucking chest, taking your heart out and giving it raw to him.

“...knowing and realizing and acknowledging just how much I love you.”

Javier drowned a gasp, as he fell in love with you all over again, you were doing what he didn’t have the balls to do, because in his sleepless sleep he wanted to look for you, in the middle of his idle nights, just after waking up after a nightmare, he wanted to find you and go to you and tell you whatever the fuck he could to be back with you. But he never did, he never did because he was a coward, because he feared his own feelings so fucking much.

He couldn't hear anything of it after your declaration of love. God, how much he loved you. You were standing there, with your eternally hopeful eyes filled with crystalline tears and several pages of written feelings. And he realized, there, with you in the middle of his living room, shifting to the next page, that even though you were extremely similar, you were also very different.

“...with you I found a reason to give up after all the shit I've lived in…” you muttered and he found the differences inside him; you were braver than him, you were smarter and more connected with what you felt; you weren’t scared of your feelings as he was. You went for what you wanted and even though it had been five months of that dreadful day when he saw his heart squeezed out of his body by your hesitant hand, that day he still replayed inside his head when the day was just over and his brain was floating between sleep and awakeness, he still wondered why you were bothering.

“There were so many things I thought…” you kept reading as he wondered if it was possible for the two of you to connect with each other outside of shared trauma and sympathy for each other’s experiences. But he answered to himself that even if you two weren’t as emotionally available as you needed to be to build a relationship or if you both were having a hard time adapting to be and live out of the system, maybe the love was real.

You stopped reading after noticing he was just standing there with his arms crossed and his eyes on you but not seeing you; you wiped the last of your tears and chuckled bitterly to yourself. Making him blink a few times.

“Fuck this,” you crumpled the pages in your hands and dropped them on the coffee table, shaking your head. Javier frowned, “it doesn’t matter what I read, I shouldn’t have come.” you said, drowning your sobs and gasping for air. He wasn’t paying attention, and nothing about it was making you feel any better about anything.

“What?” Javier whispered, dropping his hands to his sides.

“A’right, then…” you didn’t look at him and tried to control your breathing again “I guess that’s what I wanted to do,” you walked to the door and opened it, Javier wanted to ask what the fuck was happening, he wanted to grab your arm and stop you as he didn’t do it when you were leaving his office back in Colombia “I’m sorry to have bothered you, Javier,” he winced slightly involuntarily at the way you sobbed out his name “I’ll go.”

You walked out of the house covering your mouth with your hand to muffle your sobs, your rational brain was right, it was a mistake; it was a complete and utter mistake, and you were so ashamed of yourself for even thinking it would change anything. You walked to your car feeling the sharp, stinging sensation of a migraine settling in your head. You heard steps behind you and you turned around slowly, not wanting to put hope on the source being Javier.

“Mija,” you look at Chucho trying to catch up with you, “¿a dónde vas?” (where are you going?)

“I’m going home.” you said, shrugging at the man when he stopped in front of you.

“Why?” he asked, frowning.

“Because he said nothing, Chucho,” you bit your lip and looked at the Texan night sky and huffed at yourself, “he said nothing.”

“But he wants you, mija!” he assured you, and you shook your head several times.

“If he wants me as you say,” you pointed towards the house behind him, “then how come I’m not with him?” you reasoned, “he doesn’t want me.”

You dropped your eyes to the gravel path as Chucho sighed and raised his hand to squeeze your shoulder just enough for you to feel less sad. Just how a father would do.

Chucho glared at the house, the door open and Pepe standing in the threshold; his son had been back for months, he had been living next to him, eating next to him, working next to him and breathing next to him just as he did before he went away but he knew, just like a father could, he was not the same man that left.

He reminisced over the muchacho his son was before he left Laredo, so eager to get out of the small town he grew up in and that harbored his family home, so anxious to meet new horizons, so keen to find and explore new places and learn new things; he sometimes found himself missing that boy, he sometimes missed his Javi; the one that helped him build a paddock for his own horse, the one that washed his truck without asking and without failing each friday evening, the one that took care of his Mamá’s funeral at sixteen when himself was too sad to think about coffins or tombstones; because the man that came back to him after almost two decades too far away from home wasn’t the same.

He had seen and done things that Chucho never wanted to to ask about but he imagined, his Javier wasn’t the same. And Chucho knew why, but he also knew about you. Javi had talked about you way too much for his own good, as he did everything. And Chucho also knew why, he wasn’t letting the woman that made his son come back home run away.

“He does want you,” he said, slowly, with a low voice, as if it were a secret, “mijo… es un idiota a veces, but he loves you.” (he’s an idiot sometimes)

“You don’t know that.” you refuted.

“I do,” he gave you a smile that was barely visible under the white mustache “el te ama, y yo…” (he loves you, and I…) “I’m so grateful.” you shook your head as two thick tears left your eyes.

“I broke his heart.” you sobbed out.

“Y me lo trajiste a casa, Florecita” (and you brought him home to me, little flower) you sobbed harder, not able to control it anymore, and he brought you to him, and held you.

“He told you my fake name?” you asked between sobs.

“He told me what you look like.” he muttered.

“I’m so sorry.” you let yourself be wrapped by him and you hid your face on his shoulder.

“Don’t be, without you I would’ve lost my only child.” you held him tighter.

“Please.” you pleaded for nothing and everything at the same time.

“You gotta fight for him, mija.” he muttered to your ear, and you shook your head, still leaning into him.

“I’m fighting for him!” you almost yelled “I’m here, aren’t I?” you lifted your head to look at the man and you gasped for air, dropping your hands to your sides “I drove almost thirteen hours non-stop all the way from Albuquerque just to be here!” you told him and the man stiffened as you lost your shit in front of him, you gripped your head between your hands “thirteen hours to read him that stupid letter and he didn’t say shit!”

“You did what?” you heard and lifted your head to see Javier standing behind his dad.

Chucho looked at Javier and then at you with your cheeks dampened with tears. He squeezed your shoulder again and turned to walk to the house.

“You were in Albuquerque all this time?” he said, and you nodded, noticing he was holding the letter in his hand “when you said you’d go you meant back there?” he frowned in confusion.

“Well, yeah, I have nowhere to stay so I might as well drive home.” you muttered, Javier’s frown deepened, and he stepped towards you.

“Stay here,” he said, “if you wanna leave you leave in the morning.” his voice was thin and low. You looked at his eyes and saw them reddened and wet.

“Did you read it?” you whispered out. He stepped towards you again, nodding.

“Stay.” he whispered back.

“You don’t want me.” you said under your breath as shook your head and he stepped closer.

“Who says that?” he asked, and you looked at the gravel path again.

“I won’t stay.” you felt Javier’s warm fingers graze under your chin and lift your head to him slowly.

“Don’t be so stubborn,” he chastised you with half a smirk forming on his lips “stay with us.” you shook your head again.

“You don’t want me here but you want me to stay,” you said, frowning at him “Javier you can’t have it bo–‌”

“I want you to stay,” he interrupted you “I want you to stay with me,” he whispered as his fingers moved to your cheek and wiped away a tear. “please.”

Javier had read your letter after you walked out and realized, at the prospect of you leaving for what it seemed like forever, at the possibility of you leaving him for good and he never getting to see you or your gorgeous face or your hypnotizing eyes or hearing your voice that did so many things on him, that the balance of his other losses leaned upwards when he weighed the probability of losing you.

Did he care about what you did? of course he did, it still stung sometimes deep inside his chest, it still filled him with something close to grief.

Was he willing to work it out and let it aside because he didn’t want to feel the agony and deep sorrow of not having you by his side he had been feeling for the last five months again? yes.

And the answer to that question inside his head startled him and shook him deeply.

You were there. God, you were there, there was no way he was going to let you leave.

Javier decided you could work it out later, he loved you way too much not to try. He didn’t even plan to love you the way he did, the way he discovered by reading that letter or remembering the man he was without you. He didn’t even plan to love you at all, but he did. He was madly, insanely, deeply in love with you.

Javier moved his hand to your shoulder and let the one holding the letter find its way to your waist. Find its way home.

“Don’t go.” he whispered again. He moved the last step to wrap his hands around you. You let out a low yelp at the feeling of his body so close to you, for a second you froze in place, your eyes closed and his warmth invaded your entire body as he hid his head in the crook of your neck. He inhaled your essence as you hugged him back and gripped him tightly against you.

Javier felt as if all his parts were being glued back together.

“Stay with me.” he whispered against the skin of your neck.

So you stayed.

←previous // next→

*THE LETTER*

Pepe:

pedrito's perma list: @queenofthefaceless @northernpunk @pascalesque @sleep-tight1 @cheekygeek05 @bii-aan-ckaa @letaliabane @starlightmornings @mouthymandalorianalso @supernaturalgirl @metalarmsandmanbuns @purplepascal042 @asta-lily @greeneyedblondie44 @missswriter @juletheghoul @pedro-pastel @agirllovespancakes

Javi's babies: @pulplorrd

RushBit tag list: @shestillwrites1 @alliterative-albatross @absurdthirst @thoughtfulpandawasteland @wifeofdindjarin @lank-sextburg @the-ginger-hedge-witch @helloannbananalove @diogodxlot @pascalslittlebrat @sarahjkl82-blog @pedritobalmando @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @mamacitapascal @dobbyjen @callsigncatfish @feminist-violinist @jasmincita @pascalove @eury-dice3 @gingaahhhh @athalien

#javier peña #Javier Pena #javier peña x reader #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fanfic #narcos #narcos fanfic #narcos fan fic #narcos netflix #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #Jose Pedro Balmaceda Pascal #pedro pascal characters #rushingly bittersweet tag

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selfwriting-sugarquills · 4 years

Text

70 Fred Weasley headcanons in celebration of 700 followers:

(plus an extra one, for the heck of it lmao)

You guys, thank you so much for 700 followers! I appreciate every single one of you and writing for the twins has been such a blast so far, much to the thanks of all of you <3

Find the 70 George Headcanons: Here

Fred has always been really good at sleight of hand stuff, as a kid, he could do card tricks with ease, steal baked goods from his mother’s kitchen and later on since his allowance wasn’t exactly anything to brag about, he’d steal sweets from honeydukes' on Hogsmeade trips, with the help of George, he’s not proud of it but in his defence, he was a stupid teenage boy at the time.

Fred is incredibly competitive and will hold onto anything you challenge him to for way longer than you might think. He’s definitely the type to “race you” anytime you’re headed to herbology, care against magical creatures or Hogsmeade together.

As the man himself said in the deathly hallows, Fred doesn’t like the idea of a big grandiose wedding ceremony, he’d prefer something more low-key and simple, where the focus is more on having fun and celebrating instead of neat seating plans and meticulously chosen decorations. Some flowers and booze will do, he’ll provide the fireworks - In essence, he only needs his S/O and the rest he couldn’t care less about.

George may be better at cooking, but Fred makes a damn good pancake and he will forever pride himself on that.

Fred is the more jealous, overprotective twin. He’s aware of this and tries his best not to let it go to his head but he can’t help it.

Fred snores, I’m pretty sure it’s canon that both twins snore, but Fred is louder and, as mentioned in my last headcanon post, a very heavy sleeper meaning it’s more difficult to get him to wake up so he can stop, your best shot is trying (and probably failing) to turn him over.

Fred is also a very restless sleeper, he’ll toss and turn, and occasionally dream about quidditch. I’m saying you might want to be aware that he might confuse you for a bludger in his sleep, don’t worry though, he’ll always apologise profusely and make it up to you with a lot of kisses (and maybe a bit more than that, if you’re keen ;))

Fred has an extensive caffeine addiction, which is unfortunate cause he’s quite hyper already but he can’t function properly until he gets his coffee in the morning, and then again in between lessons/at lunch and then again late in the afternoon. Sometimes, if he needed to write an essay that was due, he’d drink coffee at like nine pm. He knows he won’t be able to sleep because of it, please, Y/n, he’s accepted his fate.

I personally always imagined the twins as having ADHD, idk why it just fits their characters. Fred is for sure the more outwardly fidgety and intrusive, this gets less and less with age, as it does for a lot of ADHD people, his inability to focus remains the same though.

Fred loves being outside, he’s the first of the Weasley siblings to suggest a game of quidditch or just going outside for walks, hide and seek in the woods near their house. He absolutely loves taking his dates on walks in parks or at the beach and when he has kids he plays with them in their yard, building snowmen etc.

Fred probably suggests at some point that the whole family should go camping, and he’s actually really fun to camp with. He’ll tell the best scary stories by the campfire.

In regards to children, Fred wants a lot of kids. Like at least three but would be willing to have more if his s/o wants to. He just really likes the dynamic of a large family since that’s what he’s used to.

Fred’s favourite flavour of sweets is anything sour, the sourer the better, because of this he can handle it really well and he loves handing people some of his ridiculously sour candy and watching them squirm.

He also really likes spicy food, he’s a bit of a daredevil so don’t challenge him to eat anything because he will eat a whole chilli and nearly die.

You know he’d be really casual about it too, lol, like sweating and crying but just leaning on the counter like “*pant* what? hot? no not at all *deeeeep breath* I can ha-aw-rdly taste it!”

One thing about Fred is that he’s oddly squeamish, like seeing his brother’s ear blown off isn’t so bad (if you don’t take into account the emotional trauma that is), but a needle for a blood sample or a vaccine? oooh, he’s gonna need a big juice box and a cookie and his s/o’s hand to hold if he’s gonna make it through. He also has a thing about leeches. One time at Hogwarts they were mentioned in a lesson and he thought he was going to faint the entire time.

Fred’s broken five bones over the years, four are from quidditch: his left arm and two ribs, and then the other arm from trying to do an elaborate stunt on the stairs in the burrow and falling down two flights.

Fred loves to sing karaoke (because I cannot get that damn clip of James singing karaoke out of my head) though he particularly enjoys doing a very poor job on purpose.

Fred is such a good liar that on several occasions he’s given presentations in school and gotten good marks for them despite having bullshat his way through the entire thing.

Like seriously, he’s that guy in the group project who only looks at the slides like five minutes before the presentation and then just turns on a full charming newscaster voice on the professor to the point of them being genuinely convinced (albeit a little confused) that what Fred’s saying is true.

This is also why Fred loves playing card games like poker: he’s really good at bluffing.

Speaking of poker-face, he’s really quite good at teasing in public (if you’re into that sort of thing *wink*) because no matter the dirty deeds he might get up to under a table, his face remains as regular as always (safe for a little smirk to his lover every now and then)

Fred always wanted to learn an instrument, he thought it’d make him cooler when he was a teenager, as an adult, he just really wants to recreate that clip of the trombone-playing dad with the sunglasses, or maybe serenade some cows with jazz or something.

Fred was never a big fan of the uniform thing, so he always tried to make it his own, whether that be tying the tie differently, or having his sleeves rolled up; it’s not much but you gotta take what you can get when you’re literally dressed the same as everyone else.

Fred might make fun of his dad’s interest in muggle things but secretly he loves it too. He has spent a lot of hours in the shed with Arthur, assuring everyone that it was just to have some quality time with his dad but he would still pay close attention when Arthur explained things to him.

Fred had a whole business of selling candy from Honeydukes’ and joke products from Zonko’s to second and first years before he and George started dabbling with their own products, he could get you a butterbeer too but it’ll cost you an extra three galleons.

Fred really likes glitter, George has a thing for lace, anything that glitters on his s/o makes Fred weak. If you want to get your way just put on some glittery eyeshadow or lipgloss and watch him spin.

Since he loves things that glitter and gleam he loves buying his s/o jewellery, he loves seeing them wearing them as little tokens of their relationship.

Did someone say slight possession kink? oops not me

Fred is incredible with numbers, this is pretty much canon and has been explored but I’m just amazed at this boy’s wit AND intellect. I have a slight headcanon that if he ever goes on a proper first date with someone where a bill is involved, he impresses his date by calculating the tip after just a glance.

Even if Fred has a longstanding reputation of not caring about school, when he has kids he does want to help them with any coursework over the summer and Christmas breaks, he’ll even study up on his old books just to be able to help out in any classes he didn’t take/didn’t pay attention in.

Fred would, in general, be an amazing father. He’s goofy and playful most of the time, though he’s serious and incredibly caring whenever his kids are in a bad mood or have problems. He knows that he’s not the most outwardly emotional of the twins but he makes sure his kids know they can always talk to him about anything.

Fred is incredibly messy. His room is usually a cry for help and he only cleans it when it gets to the point where it distracts him from focusing on work.

No worries though, his S/O doesn’t have to do all the housework for him, he’ll do it. He just needs to be reminded that he needs to every once in a while.

Fred has a really bad temper, he doesn’t know where he gets it from but he tends to get angry easier than George, though Fred is better at letting it out so it doesn’t continue to bother him.

His bad temper does mean that he used to brawl more with siblings as a kid, and it wasn’t unusual to see him with scrapes and bruises as a kid, much to Molly’s dismay. Fred didn’t mind though, he thought it made him look tough.

Fred is more likely to get caught sneaking around because of his brash nature, he tends to forget just how quiet you have to be to avoid Mrs Norris in the corridors.

Fred is certainly not an early bird but his favourite time of day is, in fact, the morning when the sun’s coming up. He only knows this because of Wood’s ridiculously early quidditch practices but there’s something about the way the world looks when it’s bathed in soft golden light that just hits different to Fred.

Fred is a great team player, as much as he seems like he’s more selfish than George, if it’s regarding a team activity (like quidditch or a battle of sorts) he’ll completely lose all focus on himself and only try to ensure other’s safety and victory. This is also why he plays as a beater, he’s not afraid of getting hit at all when he’s focused on getting the bludgers away from his teammates.

So if his s/o ever needs it, he’ll be there to help with anything: Needs to take a day off from work to take care of his sick s/o? no problem. Needs to stay up with his small child because his s/o is exhausted and needs rest? On it. Something as small as carrying groceries or books, making a cup of tea when the other is busy or doing the dishes is all on the list of things that Fred will happily do for his s/o, and often without having to be asked, he’ll just do it.

Fred’s boggart is seeing his family members and/or his s/o hurt beyond what he can save. Essentially his worst fear is being helpless when he needs it most.

One of those times was when George lost his ear. The first night when George was lying practically unconscious on the couch with blood everywhere was the worst night of Fred’s life, he truly felt so anxious and helpless and angry that he vomited and ended up passing out next to the couch after staying up till sunrise watching his brother like a hawk.

He didn’t just sleepwalk when he was younger, he also often experienced nightmares, it’s only George, Molly and Arthur who remembers anything about this.

They got less and less the older he got and he assumed that he’d never be bothered by them again until after the second wizarding war and the battle of Hogwarts.

I don’t like to headcanon that he dies cause he didn’t and that’s final lol. I do, however, headcanon that Fred still gets hurt, since everyone in the explosion beside him seemed to sustain minor injuries, I just think that to even out with George losing his ear, he hurts his leg and needs a lot of retraining/a walking stick. I think that’d be a more fair/unfair ending for Fred who’s always full of energy having to have to adjust to living slowly for a little while (not permanently, I couldn’t do that to my boy).

The boy has anxiety sometimes, ok. (just let me project for a second)

He didn’t know how much tension he usually holds in his body until he drank alcohol for the first time and felt his entire body loosen up and was like “huh this is new.”

He doesn’t use alcohol to deal with it though, he prefers just talking to George about whenever he feels is stressing him out and that helps. A massage from his s/o to loosen him up doesn’t hurt either.

Fred prefers to talk to his dad about his problems more than he prefers to talk to Molly, generally.

His favourite body parts on his s/o: Shoulders, hips, hands.

He loves to kiss, just in general, but he also loves kissing his s/o’s nose, forehead, neck, shoulder, etc. as little gestures of affection.

He def. has a bit of a size kink, he loves being taller than his s/o.

If Fred could have any pet he wanted, he’d probably want a dog, the bigger the better. He doesn’t think he has the time for a pet though.

It was his idea to start breeding pygmy puffs, it’s the closest he’ll get to having a pet.

I don’t know why but I feel like when Fred and his s/o are expecting and his s/o goes into labour he just panics. loses it, drops the binkie as we say in Denmark: Freaks the fuck out, if you will. He’s definitely the pacing and wringing his hands together type, though he probably tries his best to keep himself composed and chill during the whole thing whilst simultaneously hyperventilating.

Fred doesn’t cry often but he sure as hell wept with pride when he held all his kids for the first time.

Despite the notion that the twins often slip in a joke version of a sweet treat or something similar amongst the snacks at parties, Fred is strongly against tampering with drinks. He knows the connotations it holds and he doesn’t want anyone to be afraid they’d put something in it. If he wants you to test out their truth serum or a love potion, he’ll just ask you flat out and if you don’t want to, he’s not going to continue asking.

Most of the detentions Fred has gotten from Snape come from times he’s spoken back to him when Snape’s been giving another student a rough time. He doesn’t regret it one bit.

If you ask Fred what his proudest accomplishment is, he’ll probably say that it’s having had enough restraint to not punch Umbridge in the face every time he saw her.

On the note of Umbridge. It wasn’t her detentions with him that got his blood boiling, it was when she punished little kids (a la Nigel) for doing practically nothing, he understands that to an extent and by comparison, setting off a bunch of fireworks inside a building would harbour a harsher punishment, but making twelve-year-olds bleed for running in the halls or playing music or just doing things that twelve-year-olds will inevitably do, is something Fred doesn’t understand. That year pretty much any kid younger than him, or anyone who was too afraid to stand up for themselves, became Fred and George’s little siblings, and they’re very protective older brothers. Umbridge can vouch for that.

He struggles with a lot of insecurity in his relationships, he always puts on a front of being extra funny and outgoing when he’s in a new relationship because he’s secretly afraid that the way he is isn’t good enough and that eventually, his s/o will see through him and leave because they don’t like the softer, more serious side of him.

Fred is the godfather of all of George’s kids but is also the godparent of Hugo, Lily and Lucy.

Fred loves business meetings, he sees them as a good challenge to practice his smooth talk.

Fred spent his first salary from the shop on the most expensive bottle of champagne he could find and a new suit.

Fred tried to get into whiskey, feeling like it’d make him a cool business owner type of man, so, with his second salary, he went out and bought a fancy-schmancy bottle of whiskey and the whole getup with a bottle and some cool glasses, and then invited Lee over to try it with him and George.

They did not like it. Fred thought it tasted like what he imagined gasoline tastes like so they mostly used it as decorations, not having the heart to mix it with something.

Fred doesn’t necessarily like PDA, it depends on what you mean. He likes being secretive. Pulling his s/o into an empty classroom, nook, hallway, secret pathway etc where anyone could wander in at any time and snogging her senseless is one of his favourite things to do.

Fred knows how good he looks in his quidditch uniform and will absolutely use it against his s/o. (they’re gonna get spicy from here on so read with caution if you're in public)

Fred prefers giving more than receiving oral.

He has a lot of energy, did you not think that would rub off (no pun intended) on his sex drive? He can go pretty much any time and place, and typically last at least two rounds.

Also, his favourite position is having you on top. Okay, I'm gonna stop now.

#selfwriting-sugarquills 700 follower celebration #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley headcanons #fred weasley fanfiction #weasley twins #weasley twins headcanons #hp headcanon #harry potter headcanon

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prettytoxicrevolver · 4 years

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Hotel | Unus Annus

Requested? No but I’m just posting whatever at this point LMAO

Warnings? None? A really bad part 1 set up thing

Summary: Mark and Ethan accompany you to visit your parents on the east coast when a hurricane hits and knocks out the power. So, you head to a hotel for a break from the unforgivable heat and find that you’re not only sharing a room with the two friends, but a bed.

Word Count: 1,306

Two | Three | Four

You weren’t sure how you got here.

Well, it was actually your fault in a way.

You had been friends with Mark and Ethan for almost 3 years now. Ever since coming to LA to pursue your dreams and go to college as a backup, you had spent the same amount of time with the two men you called your best friends. Whether you helped them film, ran errands with them, or just hung out, it was surprising not to see you with Mark or Ethan.

It was a quick bond with the three of you and when they started the unus annus channel you loved the idea from the start. It gave them a new creative outlet that they knew wouldn’t have to go on forever and it was something you could help them film. You loved filming with them and coming up with ideas and overall just making memories in the short year for the channel.

During the time, you realized how quickly your feelings had grown for both Ethan and Mark. It was confusing as all hell, to say the least. But, you had a different relationship with both of them and couldn’t help it.

Ethan was dorky, energetic, and caring. He was always up for any adventure you threw at him whether it was going to target, going on a hike, or stargazing at 3 am he was right there by your side.

Mark was calm, charming, and loving. He listened to every word you said, took them each in with care, and responded the same way. He cooked with you and had late-night talks together on drives through LA.

You were bonded with both of them in different ways and started to fall for them in different ways. You couldn’t help the never-ending zoo parading around in your stomach whenever you were around them. Which certainly didn’t stop when they were filming.

“Today we’re going to be bleaching our shirts!” Ethan exclaims excitedly.

They were on their first video of the day and you were happy it was a lowkey video to start off the morning. Just as the boys start to pour bleach on the shirts, your phone rings in your pocket.

“(y/n),” Ethan whines and you apologize profusely.

You set the camera down so the boys are still seen in the frame before turning to see who’s calling and watch as your dad’s name pops up. You answer the call and listen as he greets you.

“Hi (y/n)!” he says.

“Hey, dad. What’s up?” you ask, uncertain as to why he called you so early for west coast time.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re still planning to come home in a few weeks to visit.”

You smack a hand against your forehead and cringe for a moment, forgetting that you had promised you would visit your parents before school starts, and nod even though he can’t see you.

“Yup! I’ll let you know the flight details soon okay? Love you.”

He returns the sentiment before hanging up and you turn back to the two friends staring at you in confusion. You shake your head and insist that they finish the video and you would explain after.

Once they’re done modeling the shirts and you cut the camera, Mark is the first to ask what’s up.

“I forgot I told my parents I’d visit them before school starts.”

“How long?” Ethan asks.

“Probably a week or so,” you respond, shrugging your shoulders. The two boys look between each other seemingly having a silent conversation before turning back to you.

“Can we come with you?” Mark asks.

You tilt your head to the side in confusion but Ethan continues Mark’s question.

“We’ve never met your family and you don’t talk about them too much so can we come?”

So that’s how you, Mark, and Ethan ended up on the east coast visiting your family for two weeks. You were nervous considering you hadn’t brought anyone home from LA and to bring both boys was a little scary.

Thankfully, your family greeted the boys with open arms. Your mom loved Mark, loved how sweet he was, how gentle and caring, and how well he sat and listened and had a conversation with her even if she was just rambling to him.

Your dad loved Ethan. He has the ability to talk about anything and when your dad started talking about sports, something Ethan wasn’t fond of, you were surprised how easily he kept the conversation. The two bonded quickly and got along well.

“Did you hear about the hurricane that’s supposed to hit?” your dad asks as your making lunch one day.

“No. How bad is it supposed to be?” you ask turning to face him.

“Supposed to knock out the power for a couple of days.”

“Wait a hurricane?” Ethan asks nervously from his place at the kitchen table.

“You’ve never been through one?”

The older boy shrugs his shoulders and you smile widely at him. You thought it was cute that he was a little nervous about the hurricane. You had been through a couple of them throughout your life due to living on the east coast so they never bothered you too much unless they were supposed to include snow, or a category 5.

As promised, a few days later the hurricane, that’s reduced to a tropical storm hits. You, Mark, and Ethan were watching a movie when the power goes out and your heart drops for a second out of old habits.

“Fuck!” you yell out making the two best friends laugh.

“Do you guys have a generator?” Mark asks.

“You’ve held a conversation with my dad before right? That man is too cheap to buy a generator,” you joke, and Mark laughs and nods.

“So, board games?”

The three of you spend the next few days attempting to keep cool in the hot summer air and occupy yourselves in any way possible. You were shocked that the outage had lasted this long and the end seemed nowhere in sight.

“Okay, we’re going to a hotel tonight,” your dad announces upon entering the living room on the fourth day without power.

You, Mark, and Ethan had started practically camping out in the living room because it was one of the coolest places you could find. Upstairs in your room was too hot and the basement was unfinished so you took over the couches and majority of the floor of your main room.

“Please tell me you’re not joking,” you say sitting up to look at him.

“Nope we leave in two hours,” he says before turning on his heel and leaving the room.

“Oh thank god!”

The three of you pack a small bag, and after two hours head out to the hotel about a 20-minute drive from your small home. The boys were excited although they wouldn’t admit that the experience of no power was horrific.

“Ready to head in?” your dad asks when you get there.

The five of you hop out of the car and straight towards the hotel. You and Ethan wander around the lobby, inspecting the aesthetic of the room and peering into the pool.

“(y/n)!” your dad calls.

You and Ethan head over to your parents and Mark and your father offers a smile.

“Well, you three will be sharing a room but so help me,” he starts and you roll your eyes.

“We got it, dad.”

The five of you head up to your rooms and when you get into your shared room, your jaw drops. Not only was the room small, the bed was large. However, there was only one of them.

“Uh,” you say as the two boys follow you into the room.

“Wait, they only gave us one bed?” Mark questions.

“So, sleepover?”

#markiplier #crankgameplays #mark fischbach #ethan nestor #unus annus #markiplier imagine #crankgameplays imagine #mark fischbach imagine #ethan nestor imagine #unus annus imagine #youtube #youtuber #youtuber imagine #imagine #bravebesson

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ready-to-obeyme · 4 years

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[OM!] All Demon Brothers + Undateables as Babysitters (Part 2)

Scenario: For the sake of the exchange program (probably), the entire cast is now in charge of taking care of kids ranging from infants to pre-K children at a daycare with you. Headcanons on what type of babysitter they would be + whatever cute shenanigans that may occur

Note: Baby fever!! Inspiration is the entirety of Gakuen Babysitter/School Babysitter, as previously mentioned.

why do i always make my headcanons so long

[Part 1] has the 7 Demon Brothers

Part 2 will have all Five Undateables

Solomon

“Kids are just so funny, don’t you think?”

Similar to Satan where he acts very casual and is actually very casual, but… the kids are scared of him LMAO

They can’t vibe him out so every time he tries to help them, they’re a little nervous and would prefer to just latch onto you, so if anything he helps the kids bond with YOU

He doesn’t seem to bothered by the cold response, and if anything, seems amused by it and encourages the fear for a little since it lets the kids listen to him immediately, but you’re quick to suggest that he please drop the sus front and help you

Solomon uses magic to appeal to the kids-- real magic but also magic tricks mixed in there as well and the kids are fascinated

“Is that magic?”

“Yup!” Solomon says, summoning dozens of birds from a random hat he found. (The clean-up was horrendous.)

It’s so easy to win them over after that with his sleight of hand-- pulling out a coin from your ear or a flower from your nose-- and overall using his skills to dazzle the kids into forgetting they were ever afraid of him

Likes to tease the kids though, which sometimes results in them crying if he accidentally takes it too far like if he says “I’ve got your nose!” and then proceeds to ‘poof’ it out of existence by pretending to put it into a hat and disappearing it-- like Solomon, c’mon they’re three years old, they’re not going to be able to tell whether or not you’re joking so put that nose back where it belong or so help me--

On the other hand, Solomon is adept at cheering kids up when they’re upset by doing silly antics like continuously pulling out coins from the kid’s ears and being (fake) surprised by how much is coming out so the kids giggle

Solomon is quite fond of kids so he actually doesn’t really mind this episode of babysitting

He’s basically just acting like an older brother to all these kids

Quite efficient with diapers and feeding babies

Diavolo

It was definitely his idea to do this, and like everything that’s new to him, he’s excited to see how he can handle it and whether the kids will like him

Spoiler alert, they do

Diavolo tells so many dad-jokes, and it makes the kids giggle every time; they love his energy and how he lets them do whatever they want (to an extent) as long as they stay safe

The kids probably disappointed them once by doing something they weren’t supposed to or by not listening to you, and his sad ‘i’m not mad, just disappointed’ look is enough to make them not want to do anything bad ever again

You probably think Diavolo lets the kid run wild, but he’s actually very attentive to each kids-- sensing whether they’re upset or not and keeping an eye on the kids whenever they’re outside playing

The kids probably know it too, inside, that Diavolo will keep them safe, so they like hanging out with Diavolo and trust him a lot, which is honestly the highest praise to Diavolo who beams every time the kids are comfortable enough to nap around him

Similar to Beel, uses his strength to appeal to the kids, lifting them up and carrying them around-- but in the most chaotic way possible; you’re not worried he’d drop them, but seeing him carrying a kid by the leg behind his back or having two kids on each of his shoulders makes your heart leap to your throat every time (for more than one reason)

At this point, you’re not sure if Diavolo is the dad or the funny uncle

When Diavolo talks to the kids, he is so gentle with them-- if any of the kids ever do something bad, the best person to talk to them is Diavolo because he sounds so understanding and tbh getting chided by him feels like you’re being scolded by your dad

When you ask him why he’s so good at handling kids, he just gives you a smile; he’s fascinated by kids, mainly because they grow up so fast and learn so much from the world around them, and he wants to encourage that sort of positive outlook for them

Simeon

He’s the type of babysitter that everyone tries to be good for because making him sad is the Worst Thing you could possibly do

Simeon knows that all the kids love him to the point that they’d be good for him, but he doesn’t like them know that and he definitely uses that to his advantage when trying to convince them to take their nap or be nice to each other

Surprisingly strict when it comes to keeping schedule and cleaning up; makes sure everyone has a role and that they’re all being fair to each other-- so he has that good balance of being super nice that he’s well-liked but strict enough so that they listen to him

Probably helps the kids put on a play reenacting either their favorite book or even something that Simeon wrote out for them

You’re a little worried having him direct, but Simeon assures you that he knows that they’re kids and he won’t hold them to the same standards as he did for the RAD School Festival

He’s actually gentle and very nurturing-- some kids probably accidentally call him mom (but he’s really nice about it and laughs, brushing it off so the kid doesn’t get too embarrassed)

if you encourage it the entire daycare might end up calling him mom at least once

Simeon really encourages their expression and praises come easy to him so the kids are always eager to learn more and do better while also having fun; also what he doesn’t know is that the kids are super in love with his smile

He’s quite used to mentoring kids and likes to see kids explore their environment and learn from experience rather than have him tell them what to do-- he’s the type of babysitter to ask them what they learned and ask whether or not that was a good/bad idea so that they can formulate their own world view and grow

Definitely gives the kids ‘tasks’ to complete or their first errand to run and watches over them as they do it just to make sure they don’t get hurt while doing them; then rewards them whenever they succeeded

Barbatos

Something about butlers being very similar in every story, but Barbatos is definitely a diligent and extremely efficient babysitter-- and the kids are fascinated with him

They follow him around, eyes wide open, as if doing so will help them see and understand how Barbatos can clean up the room in five seconds tops and change a diaper with a sweep of his hands

He definitely notices this, and if he’s using more dramatic motions just to put on a show for them, no one comments on it

Barbatos is like those enigmas where you don’t really know how strict he is, but you’d rather not find out

It’s in the way he speaks and in his tone of voice that the kids pick up the fact that they should probably behave when Barbatos is babysitting them-- and it’s further amplified when Barbatos tells a kid to not do something without even turning around to look and now the kids are convinced Barbatos has eyes at the back of his head

He definitely bakes goods and cuts up fruits for the kids to eat during recess or break time, so if the kids weren’t won over before, they definitely are now

To be honest, when you have a babysitting shift with Barbatos, you’re hard pressed to get him to let you work since he gets everything done so quickly and without prompting

Luke

Is literally the biggest kid in the playground

Sweet and tries to help you wherever he can when it comes to the kids, but is a little lost when it comes to comforting an upset kid-- and he’s very distraught that he doesn’t know how so he ends up baking and giving cookies to kids who did well or to cheer them up, so honestly that’s perfectly good on its own

Carried a baby once and now he doesn’t ever want to let go because… you mean to say all humans were this small once? You mean you were this small once? He’s a little in awe because he’s never been exposed to much outside of the celestial realm, so this very well may be the first time he’s seen human children

Some of the kids definitely do have a fun time teasing him though, pulling on his apron or shirt and then running away when Luke gets mad at them, but the kids do love Luke though-- he really is like their older brother and they follow him around like ducklings as long as Luke doesn’t notice

He learns really quickly and gets really good at taking care of the babies and interacting with the kids, and you’re really proud of how he’s grown during this time

Luke is very sad when they have to leave and stop babysitting because he got really attached to the kids and actually really liked being needed and taking care of them; if the kids start crying at him leaving, he WILL cry with them

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke

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oceanselevenism · 4 years

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I've seen that most of the stories on ao3 about them are mostly canon-compliant (and I don't have anything against that tbh) but I was wondering if you have any aus that you think could fit them or that you'd like to see?

omg i have SO MANY aus!! (it got Very Long so its under a cut)

- college au! danny gets kicked out (hes on full scholarship and does Thiefly Things to cover his expenses so hes not endangered just fairly fucked up abt it) (does it count as kicked out if u only live w ur dad three months a year) in freshman year, he befriends rusty (1 year below him) in sophomore year, debbie also befriends rusty (she and danny dont talk much but shes 2 yrs below him at the same college), and when reuben comes calling for a job he thinks debbie has a boyfriend (thanks to debbie telling her dad that she does) so she fake dates rusty. who ends up joining the job. and danny is Very Jealous

- snl ripoff au! danny and rusty are the weekend-update-adjacent anchors and they get gay. i Would have this take place in la (reuben is taking A Risk producing a late night sketch comedy show on the west coast but the 11/12/however fuckin many are fantastic cast members so even though they lose revenue from the other timezones not watching as much as they watch snl or whatever, they still make BANK... but danny and rusty getting gay throws the equilibrium out of whack) BUT la sucks DICK so its happening in new york. also this way u get Ocean Sibling Banter (debbie and lou are the anchors for The Actual Weekend Update and when debbie/lou get together and also when danny/rusty get together there are so many ‘just switch out the blondes/brunettes nobody will be able to tell and we won’t have hr down our necks’ jokes)

- au where the caldwells, abt to go deep undercover on a Huge Fucking Case, have to give up custody of 6 year old linus to tess and danny. the case stretches on for twelve years and linus grows up w tess and danny (who get divorced like right after they adopt him bc tess finds out abt dannys Thiefly Activities-- he confesses to her bc he doesnt rly want to predispose the kid to said thiefly activities) and also isabel (she and rusty break up like Right Before tess and dannys wedding and its very funny; she then goes on to marry tess) parenting him (rusty isnt as much in the picture bc he doesnt feel bad at all abt stealing and tess doesnt want linus to pick up that mentality also rusty Feels Things abt danny)! then when linus is like 18 or 19 danny disappears (tess and isabel think its Thiefly Activities again and arent concerned, just disappointed, but linus is very concerned for his dad-slash-stepdad-slash-sort-of-uncle) and he tracks down rusty so they can find danny. they roadtrip across america and eventually catch up to danny, who is helping the caldwells, and the five of them take down whatever gang the caldwells were chasing. linus now has 6 parents

- au based on this post where some archaeologist finds a bunch of dannys [french person voice] Love Lettairs 2 rusty and so obviously the logical course of action is to rob the museum (which happens to be the museum that tess is curating. funny how things work out) without telling his team What Theyre Stealing. they successfully pull off the heist but turns out the letters were not among the items they stole!! danny is getting desperate. as a last-ditch attempt he calls tess and asks her to let them rob the museum. shes like Why The Fuck Would I Do That. he explains and she begrudgingly agrees. danny and livingston go break into the museum Again but rusty tails them bc dannys been acting Weird and he finds out abt the letters bc livingston sweats more whenever he tells a lie. they live happily ever after (literally, theyre immortal) the end. also even though dannys a werewolf the 11 all call him the new jersey devil (its not his fault that legend came to be ok!! he was very drunk!!)

- childhood friends au!! danny and rusty were best buds as very young kids and then the oceans had to move. flash forward 2 present day where danny and debbie r robbing a museum (theyre building a flower shop over the vault and tunneling in, the dudes in brazil who came up w it are very very clever) and guess which two people are the assistant curators (is that even a title?). guess. ill tell u its tess and rusty! danny recognizes rusty, rusty ‘does not recognize’ danny (which is valid. look at photos of child george clooney and tell me you would recognize him). the 11 demand that they use this to their advantage and so danny and rusty Sort Of Date while the rest set up for the robbery, and danny feels really bad abt it so on the day of (after everyone has gotten away, ofc, he might be a lovesick bitch but hes not a snitch) he confesses and rustys like lmao i was onto u from the start. what kind of a name is [insert alias here] anyway. then they go live a life of crime and its great

- @sanduschism came up w a fantastic au where danny pickpockets rusty and feels bad so he sends the wallet back and they strike up a Correspondence

- HOSPITAL AU!!! danny and rusty r er techs while theyre doing med school and nobody knows how they juggle their shifts w school but also rusty can do a tracheotomy in like 5 seconds and danny can tell when a person needs an mri before they even list their symptoms so nobody questions it and nobody splits them up Ever. when they eventually become surgeons, danny does cardio and rusty does neuro, and whenever they have to work together not only do they never have to say what theyre doing, they don't even have What Do U Want To Cook For Dinner convos fully out loud. tess is head nurse... she makes so many excel spreadsheets... they are ALL color coded. isabel is head er doc and nobody dares to halfass things on her watch. reuben is head hospital admin, saul is chief surgeon, basher is head of the burn unit, the malloys r the HUNKIEST nurses in town, frank does plastic surgery/ent (every patient loves him bc he is just So Calm), livingston is The IT Guy, yen does like orthopedics or physical therapy, and linus is their fav resident who they all lovingly tease 24/7. the ocean sibs r both Cardio Gods and each dominate their respective coasts. debbie is an nyc doctor and if she sees a mass gen doctor its on SIGHT. the few surgeries that she and danny collab on go so fast that the med students in the gallery Cannot tell whats happening. lou is also a plastic surgeon and she and frank r best buds. linus requests time off like 6 months in advance Every Time and everyone hates it bc then They have to be on call but he doesnt realize his Extreme Overachieverness is causing so much strife. whenever tess and danny get in an argument she colorcodes his rounds spreadsheet to be the most neon shit youve ever seen. can you tell i never fully progressed past my greys anatomy phase this one is like 93489302 lines long

- superpower au where rusty has midas touch and danny has corrosive touch and when theyre too young to have control over their powers (abilities develop throughout adolescence and the user gains control at the end of adolescence) they accidentally brush hands and are terrified they just killed each other but turns out their powers like. cancel out. so until they reach like 21 or 22 and can touch things without fucking them UP they just. hold hands all the time. bc otherwise they have to wear gloves to prevent Accidents and both of them “hate gloves” (and also love holding hands. gayasses)

- uhhh hallmark au where danny is a crime fiction writer out on some beach north of ocean city nj and rusty is his fancy nyc editor. everyone else is a thief including debbie who is just Very weirded out that her brother, who robbed boston’s institute of contemporary art at age 22 and got away with it, has decided to spend the rest of his life churning out books. he is very critically acclaimed and about half of the 11 are buds with him and use his published books as heist inspo. the other ~half of the 11 are buds with rusty, and they tell him if danny’s heists are feasible or not (they always are. scarily so.) anyway rusty and isabel break up 12 days before xmas and danny and tess break up 8 days before hanukkah so dannys heading to debbie’s place in upstate new york to mope for the holidays when A BLIZZARD HITS and he gets stranded in midtown. and he and rusty are buds but like. Email Buds. they dont hang out irl and therefore they dont let their Totally Bud-Like Feelings mess up their professional relationship. but danny is stranded and its hanukkah and he ends up crashing at rustys place for the duration of the blizzard. and then rusty ends up coming to debbies place for the rest of the holidays. and then they kiss on new years eve and debbie kicks them out bc theyre being gross

- And More! thanks for the ask, anon! sorry it got so long lol i just have Many Thoughts

#oceans 11 #oceans eleven #danny ocean #rusty ryan #danny x rusty #oceans 8 #oceans eight

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roguerogerss · 4 years

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Sorry is a Sorry Word

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Plot: Steve fucked up - bad. He doesn’t really know how, or if, he should say sorry, until Dustin gives him a pep talk.

W/C: 3.1k

A/N: Just now realising how long this is oops, sorry. My first Stranger Things fic! Finally. (watch this flop so hard lmao) Remember to like and reblog if you enjoy! It really helps me out. As always, requests are open and any and all feedback is appreciated <3

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"Dustin, Please, just leave me alone." She lay back on her bed, tears streaming down her face and hair amiss from where she'd run her fingers through it. "I'm fine, I just...give me some time."

"But, we tell eachother everything." Her little brother sounded so small and defeated that it almost broke her heart in two. She could hear him leaning his back against the door, the back of his head thumping dully against the wood a second later. "I feel like we're drifting apart. You don't talk to me anymore."

"Dustin-"

"No, it's okay. Don't worry." Dustin cleared the remnants of his upset from his throat, "We can talk later. I get that you need time."

And with that, he'd left. She could hear his muffled footsteps on the carpeted floor of the hallway, walking away from her bedroom and back to his own. She knew that she wanted to talk to him and vent about all of the happenings of the day, but she couldn't bring herself to let her walls down in front of anyone about her current situation just yet.

It was Steve. And it was bad.

They'd been together for a year and ten months. He'd been there for her through thick and thin. Whenever their mom went MIA, something that happened more often than not, during the days and weeks and months that Y/N was left to take care of her thirteen year old brother on her own with no notice whatsoever, Steve was there. And he'd take Dustin out to the cinema, give him free ice cream, play Dungeons and Dragons with him and his friends - even though Steve had no idea how to play Dungeons and Dragons. He'd sleep over, make her feel like she wasn't alone. It filled her with pride to see him taking Dustin under his wing, more like a dad than even an older brother.

When they lost Hopper, who'd become more of a parental figure than she and Dustin's mom was to her, he was standing by her side at the funeral, hand grasping her own smaller one with force and squeezing it every so often, just to remind her that he was there. He was there after the funeral, too, when they went to the cabin and went through Hopper's things. He was there when she found the birthday present that Hopper had bought for her, a necklace with, 'you're pretty cool, kid', engraved on it. Hopper's way of saying that he loved her. It came with a letter, one that she cried so hard while reading that she couldn't see the words on the page.

The point was, that Steve had been there through everything. And now that they'd had a huge argument over - of all things - Nancy Wheeler, she was unsure of whether or not she'd have Steve to lean on anymore.

It wasn't so much a stupid argument as it was a stupid mistake on Steve's end. He even admitted to himself that what he'd done was more than a dick move. Tina was having a party, a big one, for old time's sake. Y/N wasn't invited, having been socially considered as 'uncool' while in High School, while Steve was invited. He said that it wasn't a big deal, it didn't matter, he wouldn't go.

Except that it was a big deal, it did matter, and, well, he did go.

He'd gotten really drunk, so drunk, in fact, that he had no recollection of the night at all and managed to stumble to Y/N's front door at five in the morning.

He'd told her that he went to the party, that he was sorry. She'd been mad, but she was so tired that she said she'd deal with it in the morning and told Steve to sleep it off on the sofa. Before going to sleep, however, Steve had told Y/N that he 'thought he might've kissed Nancy' that night.

They'd argued about it the next day. She'd dropped him off at home, neither of them speaking at all in the car, and they'd screamed at eachother in Steve's living room. Little did either of them know, Steve hadn't actually kissed Nancy, he was just so drunk that he made himself believe that he had. And then, Y/N told Steve that they were done, and he'd said 'fine', and she'd left and cried in her car for an hour.

And now, she was here. Crying on her bed, little brother probably thinking that one of her friends had died or something.

She hated herself for blowing up and flying off the handle and literally breaking up with Steve. Steve, on the other hand, hated himself for even going to the party, hated himself for - possibly - kissing Nancy, hated himself for going to Y/N's front door and waking her up so early in the morning.

In the grand scheme of things, Steve Harrington had been an asshole. And he was all too aware of it.

It had been around half an hour since she got home when Dustin knocked on the door again. This time, she'd managed to calm down enough to allow him to come inside. She looked horrifying, hair messed up, tear stained face, cuddling a pillow and wearing one of Steve's shirts, but Dustin was her brother, he had no right to judge her.

The door swung open slowly, and Dustin was there, grinning and holding two pints of ice cream, spoons, and some movies. "Thought we could put a movie on and eat. And you can tell me about your problems and I promise I'll listen."

"Is the ice cream cookie dough?" Y/N asked, sniffling, and a watery smile crossed her face. Dustin laughed, happy to see his sister perking up at least a little bit, even if it was over ice cream, and turned the carton to reveal to her that it was, in fact, cookie dough.

"Only the best." He tossed one of the cartons and a spoon at her, and turned on the TV set that sat across from her bed. "Besides, I know it's the only one you'll eat when you're sad."

"You know me entirely too well." She hugged her knees to her chest and dug into her ice cream, relishing in the taste of it for a second, "Oh my God, I haven't had this in so long. And the Scoops cookie dough is so bad."

"Right? I know Steve thinks it's the best, but he is so wrong." Little did Dustin know, one mention of his name would make Y/N's meltdown begin all over again. Soon enough, she was crying hot tears into her ice cream, and she allowed Dustin to lay his head on her shoulder while she explained everything.

"Okay, I have to go somewhere." Dustin knew what he had to do, and Y/N's eyebrows furrowed as he got swiftly up from her bed. "I'll be like, maybe half an hour. But you can eat my ice cream if it starts to melt."

"Dustin! Don't leave me!"

"Watch the movie!"

And then he was gone, and she was by herself, with only some ice cream and E.T. to keep her company.

Meanwhile, Dustin had found Steve at work. He was insanely hungover - although, the headache and sickness had gone away thanks to Robin and her Tylenol, but the tiredness still remained - and reminded Dustin faintly of a particular zombie in Day of the Dead when he walked into Family Video to find him leaning on the counter. The grim look on his face wasn't so much because of the hangover, though, it was more to do with the fact that he and his girlfriend of nearly two years had broken up half an hour ago, and he'd been forced to go to work.

"If you're here to talk to Steve, I wouldn't. He nearly punched me when I asked him if he wanted Tylenol. And I'm a girl." Robin stopped Dustin at the front door, a serious look on her face, but he shrugged her off.

"It's fine. He won't do anything. Besides, I know what this whole thing's about. That's why I'm here." He tried to walk off again, but Robin grabbed his upper arm, tugging him back and making him elaborate.

"Is it Y/N? I think there was a fight between them or something. He’s never looked this rough.” Robin looked concerned, and she was. She’d never seen Steve so upset before. “He was crying when he came in.” She added.

Dustin shrugged, “Yeah, I’m gonna talk to him. He’ll be fine tomorrow.” He decided not to give Robin any more information on the situation in case Y/N or Steve would've gotten mad at him for it.

"Henderson, hey." Steve said quietly when he noticed that Dustin had entered the store. He looked like he'd been crying, and Robin was definitely right when she said he’d never looked rougher. "If you're here to hang out-"

"I'm not here to hang out, Steve. We have to talk." Dustin crossed his arms sternly over his chest, raising his eyebrows and nodding his head in the direction of the store room. Steve grumbled and complied, unlocking the door and ushering Dustin inside.

"You have to apologise."

"Apologise? Apologise for - what exactly are we talking about?" Steve rubbed a hand exhaustedly over his face, leaning against a sealed box of movies that he was supposed to have put away by now.

"You know what for, Steve. Y/N. You hurt her. Like, really badly. I don't think I've ever seen her so upset." Steve already wanted Dustin to stop, but he continued, really wanting him to get the message of just how hurt his sister was. "She cried in her room for half an hour before she even let me talk to her, and now she's at home by herself, probably crying some more because you went to a stupid party. I mean, seriously man, couldn't you just have stayed home? What was so important about it?"

Steve threw his head back and hid his face with his hands, wanting the floor to open up and swallow him whole. He knew that he'd been a dick, he knew that he'd hurt her, but, Jesus, knowing the details made his heart flip in his chest and his stomach hurt. He hated seeing Y/N upset at the best of times, nevermind when it was his fault.

"Yeah. Yeah, I should've just left it. Jeez, Dustin, I'm such an asshole."

"Yes. An asshole, you are. And what was that other shit? About you kissing Nancy?"

"I didn't kiss Nancy, okay? My drunk mind just kinda...made me believe that I did. I called her today just to confirm." Steve swallowed, suddenly having the nausea of his hangover coming back to him.

"Does Y/N know that?" Dustin had his arms crossed, back against the wall, looking unimpressed as Steve shook his head. "Seriously man? Don't you think that the first thing you should've done after finding out that you didn't actually cheat on your girlfriend, was tell your girlfriend that you didn't actually cheat on her?"

"My head's all over the place, Henderson. Cut me some slack, okay?"

"You have to come say sorry, you know that, right?"

"I will. I will, I promise. I finish in an hour, why don't you go home, I'll buy some flowers, take a shower and get changed, and I'll come chap on your door like none of this even happened." Steve had suddenly perked up, gesturing with his arms and almost getting excited to initiate his plan.

"Yeah. Sure. But it better be good, Harrington. You better make her happy."

Steve didn't even have time to respond before Dustin was running off, getting on his bike, and cycling back home to his sister. He promised himself internally that he'd do all it took to make her happy.

Y/N had finished her ice cream and Dustin's had started to melt by the time he got home. She hadn't cried any more, had been too focussed on the movie, and Dustin was relieved to see her laughing at something on the screen when he entered her bedroom.

"Hey." She smiled. "Your ice cream's melting, you'd better eat it."

Dustin smiled and bellyflopped onto her bed, sending her into a fit of laughter. They both laughed so hard, in fact, that they barely heard the doorbell ring, and Dustin almost got up to go and get it.

He stopped himself though, not wanting Steve to call him an idiot or something along those lines. "You should go. I have to eat my ice cream before it melts." He said sheepishly, sitting back down from where he'd jumped up. Y/N rolled her eyes and threw the pillow that she was holding at Dustin's face.

"Alright, make your sad sister get the door because you have to eat ice cream." She stood up even as she spoke, knowing that Dustin wasn't going to budge. "Nice one, asshole."

Y/N had left her bedroom before Dustin could retaliate, bounding down the stairs and realising that, if anyone saw her the way that she looked now, they'd probably never respect her again. The doorbell went again, and she sighed quietly at the lack of patience from whoever was on the other side.

She - stupidly - didn't even bother to look out of the window that stood next to the door to check who it was before opening it, and nearly closed it again when she realised who was standing there.

"Hey, woah, don't close the door yet!" It was Steve, his eyes widened from the possibility that he'd come all the way to her house so that she could slam the door in his face, holding white lilies and a box of chocolates, which was - in Y/N's opinion - the cheesiest apology ever. "Just...listen? For like, a minute."

She slowly let her hand slide off of the door knob, watching as Steve relaxed a significant amount even from seeing her do that. "A minute." She crossed her arms over her chest, chewing her cheek. "You have a minute."

"Okay, uh, yeah, okay." Steve began his rambling. "Listen, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I know I shouldn't have gone to that party, I know I shouldn't have gotten so drunk that I managed to convince myself that I kissed Nancy. Did I already say that I didn't actually kiss Nancy? I called her, and she said we didn't even speak. Bottom line is, I'm an asshole. I know that, and I hate myself for hurting you. Dustin told me how upset you were and I...I couldn't even comprehend the fact that I did that."

He paused, looking down at his feet and waiting for Y/N to say something. Something that didn't come, she simply stood, looking at and biting her fingernails, trying to figure out whether or not she should give in and forgive him or not, so he stopped waiting and spoke some more.

"I'm sorry. I love you. I love you so much. And I know that I fucked up, and I don't expect you to forgive me-"

"Steve." Y/N stopped him. He looked up at her, expecting that she'd look upset or annoyed, but she was smiling and shaking her head. "Come here."

"Seriously?" He already wished he hadn't said what he did before he'd even finished speaking. Seriously? What kind of thing to say was that? "I mean, you know-"

She was already hugging him before he could finish speaking. She knew that he'd ramble on for hours if he could, but she also knew that she already forgave him and didn't need to listen to his rambling. "It's okay. I forgive you."

"Oh, thank God. I thought I'd lost you, really, I did." He sighed into her hair, realising that he was probably ruining the bouquet of flowers with the way that he was crushing them against her back.

"Well, you were an asshole. You had every right to think you'd lost me." Steve had always loved her subtle sassiness, it was a habit that she often fell into unknowingly, but it made him chuckle.

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right. I was an asshole."

She let go of him, finally, and stood back. He was wearing his light blue jeans, a black t-shirt and belt, with a blue jacket. It was an outfit that she'd seen him in before, quite a few times, but he never failed to look good in it anyway. His hair was slightly amiss, as though he'd gotten ready as quickly as he could - which was true, but she didn't know that for sure - but it still had his Steve 'the hair' Harrington charm.

"So, can I come in, or are you just gonna stand there and mock me?" He grinned and she stood to the side, allowing him to join her in the hallway. He went straight for the kitchen, taking out a vase and filling it up with water, then placing the flowers in it and leaving it on the kitchen counter.

"I didn't say you could-" She was trying to joke with him, but he didn't seem to care much, as he cut her off by dipping his head towards hers and kissing her passionately. He hated to admit it, probably something to do with the small part of his King Steve persona that he still carried around with him, but he'd missed her, and it had only been a few hours.

"Woah, easy tiger." Y/N laughed, pulling away when Steve's hands started to travel downwards. "We haven't even properly spoken yet."

"Yeah. Sorry." Steve said sheepishly. He pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and smiled down at the floor. "Do you wanna talk?"

She shrugged. "Not particularly."

"So, really, it's okay for me to do this," He closed the gap between them again, beaming at her while he searched her face for any sign of disapproval and admired the little flecks of contrasting colours that danced in her eyes. And then he kissed her again, lips soft against her own, gentle - something that wasn't widely believed, Steve Harrington was actually one of the most gentle people that Y/N had ever met.

"Well, yeah." She grinned, breathless. "But I'm sort of in the middle of watching a movie, wanna join?"

And so they spent the rest of the day, wrapped in the blankets on Y/N's bed and Y/N wrapped in Steve's arms, watching movies that Dustin fished out from the cabinet under the TV that Y/N didn't even know that they had.

She had to say, Steve's apologies were often cheesy and terrible, but this one wasn’t so bad as it was enjoyable.

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x reader #dustin henderson #billy hargrove #new writers corner #rogue writes #rogue does stranger things

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ksfnmoments · 3 years

Text

~Friday Headcanons~

Today’s Topic: Skye (after the little blurb down below)

y’know what i miss? Posting headcanons, so what am I gonna do about it? FRIDAYYYYY

Still deciding whether or not to do it twice a week (Tuesdays), though knowing me that’ll probably happen. Either way, I love incorrect quotes but I genuinely miss headcanons and I have so many I want to write down that I just never know what else to do with. Since I got a lineup of quotes that are queued for every other day atm, I get so impatient on the days in between but I don’t want to keep going on daily posting sprees and then becoming nonexistent for like three weeks in between-

They’ll mostly be about Chapter 2 battle pass skins since they’re the ones I’m most comfortable writing about (especially 1-3 and 5, won’t include the marvel pals because i really don’t know crap about them lmao), but I’m open to requests on others and will definitely be writing out scenarios for groups! Only thing I won’t really do is ships since I generally just don’t play around with pairings, other than Jules and Fade.

Anyway, onto the headcanons! Today we’re starting with my favorite girl :)

Skye

Gonna go a bit into the backstory I have for her for any newcomers or anyone who doesn’t remember, basically her dad worked for A.L.T.E.R and her mom worked for E.G.O, but her mom was a double agent which was how her parents met. Long story short, someone from A.L.T.E.R found out and killed her mom, then started threatening Skye so her dad handed her off to someone and thus began her story. Skye was only two years old at this time.

She stayed at Camp Cod for four years, back before the loop it was a normal camp (the loop in my universe is a whole different timeline that i’ll have to explain at some point, but the basis is that C2 has been going on for about 10 years in my storyline, but the island existed like a normal place for at least 25 years beforehand.)

When she was six, she was handed off to another person away from Camp Cod due to a safety issue concerning the person who threatened her before she was sent there.

Skye picks things up fairly quickly and usually has an easier time adapting to situations. She takes this with pride and it’s one of the reasons she enjoys camping and adventuring so much. (Speaking of pride, happy pride month! ❤️)

At Camp Cod she was defo one of those kids who more or less says “I love you” to everyone she talked to more than once.

Before Midas took her in when she was eleven, she had four caretakers. Aside from her first at Camp Cod, the longest she stayed with one was two years (age 8-10). After the loop came around, she forgot the names of her first two.

Before she was ten, she had never been past the southern side of the island, or past Misty Meadows.

Weeping Woods is her favorite location and one of her places of comfort. If she really wants to be alone, she’ll go there.

She didn’t stay with Midas at first when he took her in, but with Journey (because Journey wouldn’t let him hear the end of it for literally bringing a child to a dangerous spy base).

Journey would take her to the mountains a lot and Skye absolutely loved it.

Journey taught Skye the basics of handling a grappler, needless to say the adventurer definitely had her gear of choice.

Midas decided to start teaching her tactical skills and stuff sometime after she turned 14. She had already been really interested in the whole agent thing for a while. About five or so months before C2S2, age 15, he officially activated her.

One of the first things she convinced him to let her do as an agent was travel as much as the island as she could, this first adventure being where she got most of the photos you found on her bulletin board. (photo source: reddit)

Her disappearing every so often for a couple days at a time quickly became a normal thing. At first though she’d just kinda leave while forgetting to tell anyone, until Midas got on to her about it so she made extra sure to tell him whenever she wanted to go off again.

One of these little expeditions was where she found her sword, on the hill to the right of The Grotto.

Her third caretaker (age 8-10) had a keyboard lying around and taught her how to play piano. Skye would practice at least every other day and learned a handful of songs.

One day Midas showed her around The Yacht for the first time when she was twelve. The whole tour was a bit of a blur to her, until she saw the piano. Being the little excitable ball of energy she was, she instantly ran over and started playing. She was rusty of course for not playing in a couple years but she remembered most of the things she learned before.

She organized a birthday party for Journey on The Yacht (Midas can’t say no to her at this point) and played Happy Birthday for her on the piano.

A month before C2S2 is when Midas decided to officially make her in charge of The Shark. She had help running the place of course for the first month by various agents and top henchmen, but the day the season started was the day she decided she was ready to handle it on her own.

She especially loved being at The Shark because of the piano; in between missions and patrols she would play it, and sometimes if she really wanted to play but was busy she’d do it in the middle of the night.

In between The Device’s aftermath and the move to The Fortilla, she’d play more often because she couldn’t find much else to do. It was one of the activities she used to cope with the despair GHOST faced after Midas’ and Jules’ supposed betrayal, before the flood took over The Shark for good (in The Tide Rises, The Shark doesn’t fully become the prison version. Only some aspects of it).

Skye loves motorboat rides. Her father took her on them around Rapid’s Rest and Camp Cod often and the exhilaration was something that stuck with her even after forgetting aspects of her past due to the loop.

She absolutely hates seeing others in a bad mood and always offers a shoulder to cry on or an ear to vent to. Always open about her feelings and encourages everyone to be as well.

On the other hand, she’s completely stubborn when she’s sick and tries as much as she can to not admit when it’s the case.

She always tries to see the best in people, unfortunately leading her to be a bit too trusting and naive. Upon becoming an agent, this has been one of her biggest flaws, and it even almost cost her her life after a certain incident (which I will post one day =>)

Unless it’s utterly life-threatening or harmful, can’t keep a secret to save her life. She has to tell it to someone (in this case Ollie doesn’t count) or else, in her words, she’ll literally die. Luckily for her, Fade’s the same way, so when he came along the two would confide to each other what they couldn’t tell to anyone else.

All in all, Skye is absolutely a kid at heart.

#fortnite #fortnite chapter 2 #fortnite skye #fortnite headcanons #headcanon #fortnite chapter 2 season 2 #kayvi0’s fortnite storyverse

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ellewritesathing · 4 years

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Faking It - IV

Summary: You’d done plenty of dumb things in your life, but the dumbest had to be picking Greendale’s latest bad-boy to pretend to be your boyfriend.

Masterlist Prev. | Part 4

Word-count: 3.4k+

A/N: this gif has nothing to do with this part but i thought it was cute and couldn’t find a kitchen gif that fit. hope you enjoy the drama lmao 💕

Of all the ways you saw taking Caliban’s hand the day you met, you hadn’t anticipated the very obvious outcome: that you’d develop feelings for him. Actual, real, not fake feelings. But it’s not like it was your fault - no, you blamed the blonde asshole himself. They just didn’t make guys like him in Greendale, so he completely blindsided you by being … well, himself.

He was intimidating enough that other guys left you alone, and - even though plenty of people found him as charming as you did - he made it very clear that he had no interest in any of them. He was infuriatingly good at everything he did and he looked good while doing it. He laughed at all your shitty jokes and actually listened to you when you spoke. How the hell were you supposed to not be attracted to someone who would sit with you while you worked on your art projects and quote poetry in an offhand effort to distract you?

Who the hell could even quote poetry in real life?

Not you. Not anyone that you’d ever met.

Caliban was just different in all the ways that made your heart race.

The fact that your friends liked him didn’t hurt either. Harvey still rolled his eyes whenever Caliban showed up or made the others laugh, but his anger must have subsided at least a little because you’d caught them joking around between practices. Theo loved Caliban; the two of them had inside jokes, knew each other’s lunch orders, and partnered up for chemistry. Roz would read a book and annotate it before handing it off to Caliban to read, and she liked that Caliban made you smile. Sabrina liked having someone to do dumb and borderline illegal stuff with. They liked him, and now you liked them. The fuckers.

“Are you listening to a word I’m saying?” Sabrina asked, nudging you with her elbow. “You’ve been staring at the baseball field for like five minutes.”

“Of course I’m listening,” you lied. You sat up straighter and tugged your clothing back into place. “Quite frankly, I’m insulted you’d think that I wasn’t paying attention to The Great Kinkle Family Reunion.”

Sabrina tilted her head and smiled politely, that’s how you knew trouble was coming. “Then tell me what you should do when Uncle Tristan starts talking about horses,” she said.

“Uh …”

“Exactly.” Sabrina laughed and looked down at the field where Harvey, Theo, Caliban, and the rest of the team were running laps. “I’ve been to every family get together since I met Harvey, and they all end horribly. Caliban’s mom was really sweet to host one, but she’s in way over her head. Have you met her, by the way?”

“No,” you said. You couldn’t tell if that was weird or not. Were fake girlfriends supposed to meet their partner’s mothers? “But I’m kinda surprised she’s doing this given everything I’ve heard about her and the Kinkles. They weren’t exactly the most supportive of her.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why Harvey’s such a sweetheart when the rest of the family is … It was probably Tommy, now that I think about it,” Sabrina said. She shook her head and turned to look at you before taking your hands in hers. “I just wanted to check-in and make sure you’re ready for this.”

“Brina, I can handle this.” You squeezed her hands reassuringly. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve got a pretty mean right hook. Ask Colin Anderson. If there’s a fight, I’ll be golden.”

Sabrina laughed and let go of your hands. “I’m trying to prevent that fight, but good to know.”

You laughed and bumped her with your arm. “Looks like practice is letting out. You wanna head down?”

“Nah.” Sabrina put on her brightest smile and waved down to a very tired-looking Harvey. “Let them de-stink first.”

---

After two weeks of prep and cover stories, the day of the Great Reunion was here. You’d woken up disgustingly early in order to get yourself together and drive over to Caliban’s to help them set everything up.

You weren’t sure what you expected their house to look like, but clashed with the black BMW parked in the garage. It was a sweet, two-story house with a wraparound porch and balloons in the front yard. The house was painted a soft sunshine shade of yellow and had rocking chairs, hanging plants, and rose beds in the front. It was the picture-perfect house for anyone other than Caliban, but it still fit.

Different.

Gathering up your nerve and the rest of your belongings, you made your way to the door and pressed the doorbell. The tiny pothos plant felt as awkward as you did while it sat in your hands and waited for someone to open the door.

Thank God it was Caliban and not his mom.

He smiled amusedly at your plant before looking up at you. “Is that for me?”

“I know it’s a lame gift but I didn’t know if your mom was allergic to cut flowers and I’m not old enough to buy her wine,” you said in a rush. You frowned slightly and tilted your head. “Well, not legally at least.”

Caliban laughed and reached out to take one of your hands and lead you inside. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

You didn’t know what else to say as Caliban led you to the kitchen. The house was as much of a surprise inside as it was outside, and it smelled like freshly baked bread. It was colorful and covered in old photos. He seemed very at home here and lighter than you’d ever seen him elsewhere. No, not lighter. Happier.

“Wait.” You stopped dead and let go of Caliban to reach out for a photo of the cutest little boy with missing front teeth and a mess of blonde curls around his dirty face. “Is this you?” You couldn’t help the laugh that came out when Caliban looked pained at your discovery. “Aw, Abercrombie, you were so cute! What’s on your face?”

Caliban sighed and took the photo out of your hand, looking embarrassed for probably the first time in his life. “I was seven years old and I liked eating chocolate. Is that a problem?”

“Oh, no, no, no,” a woman said as she rounded a corner and laughed. She had the most beautiful long, brown hair and kind eyes. “You didn’t just like chocolate. If you came anywhere near it, you used to eat yourself into a sugar coma. I couldn’t bake anything around you without you eating the batter before it even got into the oven.”

She laughed and ruffled Caliban’s hair before smiling at you. You didn’t know anyone could ruffle his hair without losing a hand.

“You must be the lovely new girlfriend I’ve heard so much about,” she said. “I’m Isobel. Is that for me?”

Isobel pointed at your little pot plant and jolted you back to life. “Uh, yeah,” you said and held the plant out to her. Her hands were warm as she took the plant from you. “I wasn’t too sure what to bring but I didn’t want to come empty-handed.”

“Oh, not at all. This little guy is perfect!” Isobel lifted up the plant to look at it. “I’m going to give him some water and put him in the front. Do you guys want to get settled in the kitchen so long?”

“Of course,” Caliban said with a gentle smile. His mom gave him another playful bump and disappeared into some other part of the house while Caliban held a hand out to you. “Shall we?”

“Who are you?” you teased with wide eyes as you took his hand in yours.

You followed him into the kitchen and took a seat at the breakfast bar. They were here for maybe a month and their house already felt like more of a home than yours ever did. How they afforded it all, you had no idea, but Caliban never spoke about his birth dad and you didn’t want to push. All you knew was he gave Caliban his blonde hair and bone structure, nothing more and nothing less.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by the sight of Caliban in a sunflower printed apron. Clearly, your efforts to contain your amusement weren’t nearly as stellar as you thought they were because Caliban raised an eyebrow at you over all the baking supplies on the counter.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“I didn’t peg you for an apron guy is all,” you said with a small shrug, doing your best to sound nonchalant and not totally, completely chalant.

“I don’t like getting my clothes dirty,” Caliban said defensively. “Without an apron, anything can stain your shirt.”

“I think I’ll take the risk,” you said as you tapped the counter. “I trust myself and don’t think anyone’s going to splatter batter on me.”

“Batter, maybe not …” Caliban tilted his head to the side. “But flour?”

“Flour?”

Before you had the chance to ask what he meant, Caliban threw a handful of flour at you. He laughed at how shocked you were and you took that opportunity to reach across the counter and throw some flour at him. Soon enough the two of you were running around the kitchen, covered in flour, and laughing until your sides hurt.

Caliban wrapped his arms around you and scooped you up, ignoring your pleading and cries that were cut short by laughter. You were still mid-air with Caliban’s face close to your own when Isobel came back.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Isobel put her hands out to get your attention. “We have guests coming in an hour and the two of you are making a mess in my kitchen.”

Caliban set you down, but the two of you were still tangled up and filthy. You didn’t know what to say to the woman you’d met fifteen minutes ago and whose kitchen you’d subsequently ruined.

Isobel laughed and shook her head. “It’s my own fault for leaving this one unsupervised,” she teased, pointing a finger at Caliban as she made her way around to start cleaning up. “Go clean yourselves up. Come back when you don’t like friendly ghosts.”

Luckily for you, flour was relatively easy to get out because you weren’t wearing dark colors for once. It took a while to get it out of your hair and make it look presentable, but it was hard to be too mad at the mess when it was such a fun time making it.

When you got back downstairs, you could hear people laughing and talking in the kitchen. It was still too early for guests but it was clear that it wasn’t just Caliban and his mom.

You were right. You rounded the corner to find Caliban freshly-changed, his mom kneading some dough, and a very pretty redhead with big doe-eyes all laughing at some inside joke. It made you feel painfully other.

“Oh, Luce,” Isobel said when she noticed you come in, waving you over. “You have to meet Caliban’s girlfriend. She’s a gem.”

Luce ... As in Lucy? Lucy from California? Harvey’s first crush? Lucy.

This was going to end badly.

Lucy tilted her head as she turned to look at you. You could see the gears turning in her head as she looked you over. “Girlfriend?” she asked with a friendly (but fake) smile.

“The one and only,” you said with an over-confident smile as you walked over and interlaced your hand with Caliban’s. You wrapped your other hand around his arm, just like the first day you met. You introduced yourself with a friendly yet fake smile of your own.

“You guys moved up here a few months ago and Caliban’s completely forgotten about me,” Lucy teased to Isobel. She moved some hair out of her face and looked over at you again. “He used to tell me everything. We were like this.” She crossed her index and middle finger over each other with a smile.

You’d have liked to show her one of your fingers.

But you didn’t. All you did was smile and make some polite conversation while not letting go of Caliban. You weren’t sure why you were being so defensive. It’s not like you and Caliban were actually dating, but you didn’t like Lucy. Not only did she break Harvey’s heart and cause all the damage you’d spent the better part of two months fixing, but she also just rubbed you the wrong way.

“Okay, not to ruin all the fun,” Isobel said after a while. “But guests should be coming soon. Why don’t you kids make sure everything is set up in the back and keep an ear out for any early birds?”

“Sure thing,” Lucy said, hopping off her seat and leading the way to the backyard.

You started following when Caliban caught your arm and said something to his mom about getting more supplies from the garage. He didn’t say anything else as he led the way and neither did you, but that was mostly just because you were being petty.

Caliban led you to the middle of the garage and tugged on the old light to illuminate the dusty room around you. He lifted your intertwined hands and folded them over each other as he thought about what he was going to say.

You couldn’t wait that long.

“So, what’s the deal with you and Lucy? And I want the truth this time.”

Caliban laughed and shook his head as he looked up at the old light above you. He took a breath before saying, “Lucinda’s my best friend, pretty much my only friend before yours so kindly took me in. If I’d known she’d be here today, I would have said something.”

“Wait, you were best friends with the girl who broke up your family?” you asked.

“She apologized,” Caliban said. “And, besides, you’re friends with Harvey.”

“Harvey’s never made out with me,” you said, untangling your hand from his so that you could cross your arms over your chest.

Caliban narrowed his eyes slightly as he took in your newly defensive stance, and then he laughed without saying anything else. He looked amused when he met your scowling gaze again. “I can’t believe you’re jealous,” he said. “Don’t misunderstand me, it’s incredibly attractive but-”

“I am not jealous,” you said. “I couldn’t care less.”

“I’m sure,” Caliban said with a sarcastic smile. He rolled his eyes as he stepped closer and cupped your face before leaning down to be millimeters away from your face. “Forget about her, alright? I assure you, you’re the only fake girlfriend for me.”

Before you had the chance to say something witty in return, the garage door flew open and the devil herself stood in the opening.

“There you are!” Lucy said. “Cal, I need help with these streamers. I’m way too short to get them where your mom wants them.”

“I’ll be right out,” Caliban said without taking his eyes off yours. He pressed a kiss to your forehead before taking a step back and leaving you in the dusty and dim garage.

You shot a warning text to Harvey about Lucy before you went out to help the others. Though he never answered, he must have got it because he was surprisingly okay when he and Sabrina got there. You and Sabrina shared a look when Lucy got a bit handsy with her hello, but neither of you said anything.

That’s how most of the get together went; you and Sabrina sharing secret, sarcastic looks and staying out of trouble. Well, mostly. You still didn’t know what to say when Uncle Tristan started talking about horses, but Caliban came to your rescue and the rest was smooth sailing.

Until an hour went by when you couldn’t find Caliban anywhere. You asked around but no one had seen him, but his mom pointed you in the direction of his room. Isobel held onto your arm before you could leave.

“Um, I’m sorry if this seems a bit strange but I …” Isobel smiled and looked down at her hand on your arm before letting go, clearly trying to respect whatever boundaries you may have had. “Caliban’s been a lot happier since we moved here and I think that has to do with you. I just wanted to say thank you.”

“Oh, uh- It’s nothing. I’m just a girl and I’m sure Caliban’s brought a few of us around by now with cheekbones like that,” you said with a smile.

“No, Caliban’s never brought anyone home before,” Isobel said, looking like she was trying to remember anything to the contrary. “Sorry, hun, I’ve gotta go. Jan’s calling me over. Good luck with the search!”

“Thanks,” you said quietly.

Isobel disappeared into the sea of Kinkles and you made your way to Caliban’s room. You took your time going up the stairs, looking at all the photos on the wall as you did. It was nice to see that Caliban was just as angry and angsty now as he was at 14 years old.

It was strangely quiet upstairs compared to the rest of the house and the party in the backyard. Quite enough that you could hear someone giggling upstairs, someone decidedly not Caliban.

Roz would have told you to face it head-on and not to sneak around like a creep. Thankfully, Roz wasn’t there to say anything.

You tiptoed as casually as you could to Caliban’s room. The room felt more like the Caliban you knew than the rest of the house did: big windows without any blinds, a tornado of books and sketches on every surface available, and a very pretty redhead making out with him.

“She kissed you, huh?” you asked, echoing the story of when they were younger before turning on your heel and slamming the door behind you. Your heart ached annoyingly when Caliban called out for you as he followed behind you, but your brain told it to suck it up until you were out of the house.

By sheer force of will, you made it back downstairs without turning around, but then Caliban managed to get a hold of your hand and spin you around to face him.

“Would you please let me explain?” Caliban asked.

“No,” you said, pulling your hand away from him. “Look, it’s not like you have anything to explain anyway, okay?” He reached out for you again and you took a step back so you wouldn’t be confused by his touch. “You and me? We were a fake relationship. Maybe this is the universe saying it’s time it came to a real end.”

You knew what he’d say if you weren’t arguing. He’d ask you, with that annoying smile of his, when you started letting the universe tell you what to do. Or he’d make some comment about the universe being a bastard. But all he did now was set his jaw and look down at his hand.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying this is it,” you said. “Goodbye, Caliban.”

You weren’t sure why you expected him to say something else, to fight for your fake relationship, but all that expectation just led to disappointment. Caliban flexed his hand but didn’t say anything else as you pushed past him to get your stuff from the kitchen so you could rush to your car to cry.

Harvey was tapping on your window just before you started the car. Curse your five-minute breakdown for being long enough for him to notice you were gone.

“What?” you asked as you rolled down the window.

“Are you okay?” Harvey asked. “You ran out of there so fast-”

“You were right, okay?” You put your car in reverse before looking back up at him. “Caliban’s not a good guy and you warned me. Will you just let me go so I can cry somewhere that’s not here?”

“Hey, you know that’s not what I meant,” Harvey said softly, reaching through the window for you. “Let me come with-”

“No. Go have fun with your family. I need to get out of here.”

“But-”

“Harvey, move or I will drive over your foot.”

You didn’t think he was going to do it, but Harvey took a very reluctant step back and put his hands up in surrender. He wasn’t going to fight for you either, not that you’d given him much of a chance. Harvey was stood there, watching you drive away until he disappeared in your rearview mirror.

Music blared in an attempt to drown out your thoughts, but there was one you couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard you tried. Sabrina was right - every Kinkle family get together ended horribly.

Tagged: @miss--moose @marrypuffsstuff @harryscarolinaa @igorsbby @foji2000 @mschfavngz @artaxerxesthegreat @thxmagic @strawberriesandknives @xealia @hotmessindisguise @reheated-coffee @shelby-x @perseny-blog @millie-753 @luneerius @shizzybarnaclee @lettherebelovex @throughparisallthroughrome @ietss @thebookwormlife @mechanicalanimalz @mariamermaid @nqbmf @drrramaaaqweeen

#faking it #caliban #caliban imagine #caliban x reader #caos #chilling adventures of sabrina

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frywen-bumbles · 4 years

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The Way to a Man's Heart Goes Through His... Cat? Ch2

Days 6-7: Jaskier gets some unexpected messages and looks after house plants

AO3

Master of Music.

Jaskier loves the sound of it.

What he doesn't love is the half-empty document staring at him from his laptop screen.

'Historical Facts, Recent Myths, Current Connections: The Witchers in Historical and Contemporary Music'

He has all of his research material on hand. He has read through it. Several times. But writing the actual research down isn't happening.

Gods above how much he wishes he could just compose new songs and throw his brain out of the window. He doesn't even believe in any gods but if praying will help writing to happen he's willing to try.

Roach sits on top of the bookshelf, in one of her favourite places to... stare at him. And judge. Or maybe Jaskier feels like the cat is judging him. She hasn't warmed up to him during the first week at all, all she does is stare at him whatever he does but doesn't let him close enough to touch yet alone to brush.

"You know, Roachie if you won't let me touch you soon your owner will have to shave you naked when he returns."

Roach doesn't answer.

Of course, she won't answer. He must be going bonkers. Maybe a walk will help. He doesn't hold high hopes, everything is going shite anyway, what good could one walk do?

He snaps a quick silly selfie of himself and Roach and sends it to Roach's owner, like every day. It doesn't take long for the mark to turn blue to note the message has been seen. No answer, but at this point, Jaskier is not surprised. There has been no answer in the previous days, why break the tradition now? Some people just aren't made for small talk and Jaskier isn't going to force it. Not that he'd want to see the man. No, that would be ridiculous.

He gets lost in his thoughts, trying to figure out how to put together his thesis in some sort of coherent way as he walks to the nearby park. His phone buzzes in his pocket for a new message. He digs it out, not giving it much thought expecting to see a message from Essi or Pricilla. What he sees makes him almost drop his phone in his shock.

Cat dad answered? And with a photo?

A honk makes him realise he's standing in the middle of the road like an idiot and he crosses to the other side to reach the park. Only it feels like he doesn't need to have a walk anymore, this is more excitement than he's had in the entire week.

He opens the message.

A selfie with a blonde girl and a man stare back at him. He feels like his heart will stop.

"Essi?" Jaskier has to talk to someone. He knows he shouldn't, he promised absolute confidentiality. But he will burst if he doesn't talk about this to someone. He will absolutely without a doubt die.

"What is it, Buttercup?" Essi drawls like she has all the time in the world.

"Cat dad it insanely hot!"

"Whaaat? He texted back?"

"Yes! He's off the wall hot? I can't deal with this! How am I supposed to just sit working on his desk knowing what the man looks like? He will haunt my dreams, Essi!"

"Well, spill the tea! What does he look like?"

"You know I can't tell you, just know he's the hottest dude I have ever seen, okay? I can't deal with this. How am I supposed to write academic bullshite when his picture sits on my phone and I could just... look at it whenever I want to?

"Jaskier, for fucks sake. Your thesis is already a year late. You have been promised a place in the doctoral programme. If you keep sitting on your arse with this, instead of being the brightest student at the Uni, you will fail, understand? Get your shite together and stop falling in love with every person you happen to see."

"But, Essiiii... He's really hot!"

"I know, darling. Just keep it in your pants until you've finished with your thesis. Then I give you my permission to go chase the hot cat daddy."

"Melitele forbid, Essi, you're no fun. I wasn't going to chase him! I don't even know where he is. I just can't get over the hotness, okay?"

"Mm hmm, I know you too well. Get back to work or do I need to remind you why you took up pet sitting?"

"No. I'm sorry. I'll take a small walk and then get right back to writing, I promise."

Jaskier does not get back to writing.

He stares at the picture in his phone trying to figure out how a gorgeous man like that could have such an impersonal home. The man has his hair tied back in a messy bun, revealing an undercut which tells the milky white locks are natural. Jaskier didn't know he had a thing for blonds, but he sure as hell does now.

The girl's young, maybe around ten years old, Jaskier isn't sure. Kids aren't exactly his forte, all of his friends are still firmly stuck in their studies instead of having families of their own.

The picture had been taken by the girl, the grin wide on her face suggesting taking it had been her idea. But the soft smile the man has as he looks at the girl is melting Jaskier's heart.

If only someone would look at him like that he could die happy.

A crash from upstairs startles him enough to put down his phone and look at the time. Jaskier tries and fails not to fall into despair. He has wasted another day, not a single word written and how he wishes he could just throw up all of his ideas into coherent text but it is not happening.

He closes his laptop. It's no use. Going like this he'll never graduate.

Roach stares at him from the door, covered in dust and... definitely more dust.

"I'm a mess, aren't I, Roachie?"

Roach doesn't answer. Instead, she screams and runs downstairs, expecting him to follow like a good servant. His phone buzzes for a new message and Jaskier taps it open.

Remember to what the what now? He stares at the message, trying (and failing) to ignore the image above it.

"What the fuck?" he mutters to himself as he makes his way downstairs to stare at the house plants he has given no thought at all up to this point. On the windowsill in the kitchen is a lone cactus, right next to where Roach likes to sit and look to the yard. A cactus completely covered in cat hair and Roach is happy to provide how that particular thing happened. She jumps next to the plant and rubs her head against it, leaving even more hair on the spines.

"Brush the cactus. Okay then..."

Jaskier snaps a picture of the cactus and sends it to the group chat with Essi and Pricilla.

He gets no response. ... appears on the screen several times before crying laughing emojis fill the screen.

He goes to dig through the cabinet where he found cat things and discovers a comb.

"That'll have to do," he sighs and gets to combing the cactus, careful not to harm it. In the end, the cactus comes unharmed from the endeavour but unfortunately, Jaskier doesn't. His palm is adorned with spines he spends a good five minutes plucking out with tweezers.

<lmao>

<lmao???? I'm suffering and you're laughing??? Essi, Pris is being horrible>

Jaskier looks up from his phone when he hears water splashing. He doesn't even want to know what toy the cat has decided to drown now but if he doesn't hurry the whole kitchen will be filled with water.

Roach is happily playing with a toy mouse dunking it in her water bowl and tossing it around, spreading water everywhere.

"Roach, please? Could you just... not do that?" Jaskier begs as he fishes the mouse out of the water bowl and puts it to dry in a cabinet. "This may come as a surprise to you but I do not enjoy mopping the floors after you." He complains as he dutifully takes kitchen towels and dries the kitchen. At least it's better than the time Roach tucked the entire kitchen rug in the water bowl while he was out.

"You are a menace," Jaskier tells Roach after he has cleaned up everything. Roach meows.

Jaskier feels like he has barely fallen asleep when he wakes up. At first, he doesn't understand what woke him, but another yowl has him wide awake. What has him jumping out of the bed and run is the sound of pumping, like someone was trying to unclog a toilet.

"Roach you bastard, where are you? Please don't throw up on a carpet!!" Jaskier tries to find the cat based on the noise, stumbling in the dark. To his horror, the noise is coming from the second floor, where he was absolutely forbidden to go.

"Roaaaaach...!" he whines and makes his way up the stairs.

The view that awaits him when he flips the light on is totally unexpected. It is so unexpected Jaskier has to pinch himself to believe he's actually standing in a real room.

It is, and really the only way to describe it is every little girl's dream room. The room spans the entire second floor, ceiling low on the sides showing it was renovated from an attic, pinks, purples and blues adorning the furnishing.

And right on the middle of the white rug is the vomit.

"Fuck."

Jaskier collects the rug and carries it in the bathroom and spends an ungodly amount of time washing it, hoping against all the odds, the stain would leave.

It doesn't.

Come morning and Jaskier is sure it's all been a weird dream. Unfortunately for him, the stained rug awaits him in the bathroom when he goes to brush his teeth and he groans in frustration.

Roach meows at the closed door and scratches it until he lets her in so she can stare at him. Jaskier sighs and snaps a quick selfie, hair mussed and toothbrush still in his mouth and sends it. No need to prolong it, now he can hopefully focus on writing.

He's drinking his third cup of tea when his phone buzzes for a new message.

<Roach's hair is as messy as yours>

Jaskier stares at the message, sent from an unknown number.

<You're the girl! From the picture!> <I'm Julian but you can call me Jaskier> <Wait you shouldn't text strange men does your dad know you've texted me?>

<You're not strange you just told me your name> <I'm bored daddy went out with grandpa and im left with uncle> <Hes no fun> <I'm Fiona>

Jaskier doesn't know what else he's supposed to say. How does one talk with children? Just like normal people? Right?

Wait!

Jaskier comes to a sudden realisation; now he has the perfect opportunity to ask cheat codes for Roach to get the cat to, well maybe not like him but to tolerate him.

The screen fills with laughing emojis earning a sigh from Jaskier. No help then.

Of course, why hasn't he thought to give the cat cheese? Maybe because it doesn't make any sense. Who gives cat cheese when there are perfectly good cat treats available?

Nothing else about this makes any sense either and since writing isn't happening nor is Fiona texting anything else he makes his way to the fridge and digs out a block of cheese and cuts a piece.

Roach runs at him screaming. She thrills and screams and rubs herself against the drawer where all of her brushes are.

Roach doesn't purr when he combs through her fur, but feeding her bits of cheese every time she gets too annoyed helps and like a miracle Jaskier manages to brush a cat-sized pile of loose fur to show for his efforts. He gives Roach the last piece when he has finished and tries to pet her, but she sprints away from him with an annoyed meow.

Maybe Roach doesn't hate him as much as he thought after all.

#the witcher #the witcher fanfic #geralt of rivia #Jaskier #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #cirilla fiona elen riannon #frywen writes

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cosmic-goddess-leo · 5 years

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First Love / Late Spring Pt. 1

Kuroo Tetsuro x Reader

Series Summary: Reader was once a nationally recognized volleyball player until an injury she suffered her last year of high school. She and Kuroo knew each other vaguely through a mutual friend but lost contact after her injury. Now they attend the same University in Tokyo and are beginning to reconnect.

Chapter Summary: Kuroo and Reader have their first meeting in high school then reconnect a year later. This chapter takes place before and after the Land Vs. Sky OVA.

Word Count: 3527... really did not mean for this to be so long lmao

Author’s Note: Yes, this is named after a Mitski song lmao. This is my first time writing Kuroo and my first crack at fanfiction in a while, so let me know what ya’ll think!

This time of the year was typically the calm before the storm.

Some would say that statement was a load of crap, given the amount of practices and training camps the Nekoma volleyball team had to attend, but for Kuroo it was relaxing.

It was a routine he would settle into and find comfort in while on the road to nationals, though he couldn’t say the same for his team.

He glanced over his shoulder, looking at the rest of the team piled into the bus bound for Fukurodani Academy.

The travel distance wasn’t ideal, and typically Nekoma hosted these sorts of practices before nationals.

But, Nekoma’s coach had made up his mind about the team attending a practice match at Fukurodani. And so began the herding of the cats.

Luckily they would be in good company; The teams were on fairly good terms with one another, so the day wouldn’t be full of fake pleasantries and awkward silences.

A monotone chirping noise followed by a mumbled curse pulled Kuroo from his thoughts and back to his seat.

He looked down at Kenma, who was now starting a new game on the handheld electronic he had brought along on the trip.

“If you start a new game you’ll just have to quit in the next 5 minutes,” Kuroo warned. He was beginning to recognize the buildings around them, meaning they would be arriving at Fukurodani soon.

“I can get through a quick round before we get there,” was Kenma’s quick reply.

Kuroo sighed dramatically before leaning on Kenma, causing him to misstep in his game and almost fall off a ledge.

“What’s the point of sitting beside you if you’re not going to talk to meeee?” he whined.

Kenma huffed, readjusting himself, “It’s better than sitting next to Lev and his snoring, isn’t it?”

Kuroo chuckled again, shaking his head slightly before relaxing into his seat.

The academy soon came into view; the sleeping teammates were woken up and multiple sighs of relief could be heard as their long journey would soon be over.

As promised, Kenma rushed through his current round on his game before turning off the handheld device and stuffing it in his jacket pocket.

The team exited the bus, hauling their gym bags over their shoulders and began making their way to the academy’s gym.

“Kurooooo!!!!”

That booming voice could only belong to one person on this campus, Kuroo thought to himself.

He greeted Bokuto with a big smile as the other captain approached him, leaving his team and coach behind at the entrance of the gym.

The two shook hands before exchanging a quick hug.

“Is there a reason you guys aren’t inside the gym waiting to get your asses kicked?” Kuroo smirked, pulling back and glancing at the Fukurodani team.

Bokuto turned to the team, offering a small awkward smile as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Well... there was kind of a mix-up with the girl’s team... we might be sharing the gym today.”

Kuroo then noticed the team’s coach talking on his cellphone rather hastily, only to hang up with a defeated look on his face.

The old man turned to Nekoma’s coach and apologized for the change in plans.

Certain members of the team, Kuroo included, looked ecstatic at the change.

Fukurodani’ girl team was the stuff of legend. Two-time national champions in the women’s division with some of the fastest, most badass players Kuroo had seen. And they were going to get to share a gym with them?

“Their practice starts in about an hour, so we have the gym to ourselves until then.” Bokuto piped up, smiling as his coach began to unlock the gym.

The two coaches agreed to just do warmups until the other team arrived, that way once the practice match had started the girl’s team wouldn’t be interrupting the game.

Kuroo was in the middle of hitting a spike when the gym doors opened, revealing the girl’s team on the other side.

The Nekoma team paused what they were doing, observing the new faces as they entered the gym.

Then she entered. The team captain. Number 8.

She looked around the gym, face emotionless until her eyes seemed to settle on Kuroo, and she smiled.

Kuroo, for a moment, felt his heart skip a beat. He wondered why she wou-

“Gawking at my apprentice, huh?” Bokuto laughed, smacking Kuroo on his back and interrupting his train of thought.

“Apprentice?” Kuroo asked, glancing from her to Bokuto as she approached.

“Yeaaahhh, taught her everything I know. She would be hopeless without me.” He bragged, placing more emphasis on the word ‘hopeless’ than what was needed.

“Whatever helps you spike harder.” She said, placing her hands on her hips as she stood in front of the other team captains. “But I shouldn’t even give you that, since you guys stole our gym.”

“Hey hey, this is our gym too!” Bokuto objected, “We can’t let you girls hog the spotlight at nationals!”

She smirked, “Well let’s see which is more important and deserves more gym time, the boy’s team, or the two time national champions?”

Bokuto went red before she laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck in a bearhug. It left Kuroo feeling slightly awkward as the two embraced.

“You know I’m only joking.” She giggled, struggling to stay on her tip toes as Bokuto returned the hug and lifted her slightly.

The two lingered, only for a moment, before Bokuto coughed and let her go. “You don’t have to be so rude about it...”

“Talk about rude,” she huffed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, “You haven’t even introduced me to your friend here.”

“Oh! Kuroo, this is (Y/n). (Y/n), Kuroo is the team captain of the Nekoma team!” Bokuto smiled, wrapping an arm around Kuroo.

(Y/n) smiled as Kuroo slightly shoved Bokuto before bowing.

“I know who you are, you’re kind of a legend,” Kuroo said, keeping his head bowed.

“H-hey, you don’t have to do that, “(Y/n) said, waiving for him to stand up straight.

“Riiight, (Y/n) here is from the west! The bowing makes her feel kind of awkward.” Bokuto explained, watching her bow slightly in return.

“Been here five years and still can’t really get used to it, no matter what my dad says.” She smiled awkwardly, relaxing slightly as Kuroo returned the smile.

The three were interrupted by (Y/n)’s coach calling for her to start her warmups with the team.

“Maybe we can play some matches whenever you guys are done... if the coaches are cool with it?” (Y/n) offered.

Kuroo’s heart skipped another beat. He’d have to offer the suggestion to his coach, playing a team like hers would be the practice they’d need before nationals.

Before he could respond (Y/n) was already jogging to her team and starting their warm-ups.

“She is... so much cooler in person...” Kuroo breathed, watching (Y/n) toss a couple of volleyballs to her teammates.

“Isn’t her accent funny?” Bokuto snickered, crossing his arms and nudging Kuroo.

Before either of them could continue fawning over her, they were called to begin the practice match.

Kuroo was never one to show off, at least that’s what he liked to tell himself right before he showed off, but he could tell he was spiking harder and diving faster in the practice match than he usually would.

Once Nekoma won their first set and switched sides of the court, he noticed how every now and then (Y/n) would stop to watch him play. Maybe that showing off was worth it. Just as he thought that, a ball landed right at his feet.

‘Well that was lame.’

“You can’t impress her if you don’t focus.” Kenma chastised him, his lips turned up ever so slightly into a smirk.

Kuroo sighed. “Could you say that any louder?”

“You’re the one being obvious about it.” Kenma shrugged, turning back to the other team as they began their serve.

Nekoma managed to win the match 2-1, much to Kuroo’s relief. Fukurodani was good, it was a close game.

Once the match had ended, he and Bokuto shook hands, only for (Y/n) to toss a volleyball their way.

Kuroo luckily caught it at the last second.

“Not bad,” (Y/n) smiled, almost being thrown off her balance as Bokuto went to her side and hugged her. “But let’s see how you do against their better half.”

“The coaches okayed it?” Kuroo smiled, passing the ball between his hands.

(Y/n) nodded, “On the condition that you let some of the Fukurodani boys mix in with your team. It would be unfair if poor Bokuto had to watch from the sidelines instead of get his practice time in.”

Bokuto laughed and quickly took the ball from Kuroo. “You’re on, captain!”

As Bokuto made his way to the two boys’ teams and gave them the news, Kuroo turned towards (Y/n) and crossed his arms.

“You sure you can handle us?” he smirked. “I saw you watching us play, you looked almost intimidated.”

“Like I said, you’re good.” She shrugged.

Kuroo’s smirk widened before (Y/n) leaned closer to him, rising on her tip toes so she could whisper in his ear.

“But I’m better.”

Chills.

She suddenly moved away, whistling at her team and catching their attention.

Despite the brief alliance between Bokuto’s and Kuroo’s best players, they still lost to (Y/n)’s team. It was close, but a loss is still a loss.

The teams thanked each other for the games and began lunch. The coaches agreed lunch would mark the end of the day for the teams, meaning Kuroo only had a small amount of time to continue socializing with (Y/n).

Once he had the lunch he packed in hand, he began scanning the gym for (Y/n), only to find she had disappeared.

Rather than put off his lunch, he opted to eat with his team and try to find her before they left. Halfway through his meal, Kenma revealed that he had seen (Y/n) and Bokuto go to eat their lunch outside. Once he saw Kuroo look around the gym for the 5th time that meal, he decided to put him out of his misery.

Kuroo finished his meal and tried to casually make his way outside in the direction Kenma had pointed.

Once he opened the door, he saw the two sitting right at the steps of the gym, having not noticed him.

He was prepared to make a grand entrance into their conversation but froze once he saw how (Y/n)’s shoulder’s sagged and her head hung low.

“You can’t keep working yourself like this, I always tell you to just take your time and-”

“You’re one of the most recognized aces in the nation, it’s so easy for you to say that. But you don’t really mean it.” (Y/n) interrupted Bokuto, her voice wavering slightly.

Bokuto sighed deeply, luckily not seeing Kuroo at the gym doors as he looked at (Y/n).

“So you’re really going to work your team to the bone? All cuz of a feeling you have?” he asked.

(Y/n) nodded. “If there’s anything I can do to keep us from losing this, I’m going to do it... I can’t lose this for us my last year here.”

The two went silent. Bokuto slowly brushed his hand over (Y/n)’s, prompting her to take his hand and lace her fingers with his.

Kuroo swallowed before loudly opening the door, hoping it would give the impression he had just gotten there.

The two quickly turned to him, smiles on their faces as they released each other’s hands.

“We’re getting ready to leave,” Kuroo smiled, “just wanted to thank you for the games.”

“Thanks for being such a good sport about losing to a bunch of girls.”(Y/n) teased, standing up and making her way to Kuroo. The two shook hands, sending a small jolt of electricity through Kuroo’s fingers.

“You’re not just a bunch of girls, you’re one of the top teams in the nation. Don’t sell yourself short like that.” Kuroo chuckled.

“We should get inside and say bye to their team properly.” Bokuto interrupted, causing the two to end their slightly-too-long handshake.

The teams bowed and said their goodbyes, knowing they would most likely see each other at nationals.

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Fukurodani would be advancing to the Spring High Tournament, there was no doubt about it. Nekoma was exhausted, the loss hit harder than the fatigue itself.

Though Kuroo had been invited to catch the rest of the match for (Y/n)’s team, he declined Bokuto’s invitation. He decided he’d rather prepare to go home than rush to the other side of the building to watch girls’ tournament with the other team.

“We obviously still need to practice,” Kuroo began, “But we played well.”

He earned no response from his teammates. He looked up at the team, all scattered throughout the locker room and staring at the television mounted on the wall behind Kuroo.

“What’s so interesting that you can’t pay attention to my post-defeat speech?” he huffed, turning to look at the tv.

The match with Fukurodani’s female team was being broadcasted on the screen, but the game was at a standstill.

Cameramen rushed to a player’s side as she cradled her ankle and sobbed shakily. The ankle was twisted and curved in an unnatural direction, the result of some probable freak accident that happened on the court.

Kuroo saw the number on her jersey before he saw her face.

Number 8.

(Y/n) squealed and sobbed, staring down at her ankle in horror as her coach tried calming her down.

The team watched as she was hoisted up onto her good foot by her coach and ushered off the court to get medical attention.

“Do you think... they’re gonna be able to do it?” Lev spoke up.

“If they do, it will have to be without their captain.” Kuroo said. He bit his lip as the camera focused on (Y/n)’s retreating figure cut to the team’s assistant coach who had stayed behind.

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It had been a little over a year since (Y/n)’s injury. Her team had ended up losing their match and didn’t make it to nationals.

Part of Kuroo felt guilty for not going to the match. If he had gone, he would have been able to see (Y/n) in the infirmary and see if she was alright.

All he had to go off of was the sporadic text messages he received from Bokuto afterwards.

Even then, he felt awkward constantly asking about (Y/n). It was clear she and Bokuto were close, and Kuroo didn’t want to give the wrong idea.

Kuroo had only known (Y/n) not even a full day but couldn’t deny the small attraction he felt for her.

It was kind of hot knowing there was someone who could beat him in volleyball... someone he found attractive at least.

This is what his mind was wondering to his first day of University. When the gen-ed professors rattled off about the syllabus and class guidelines, he thought of the practice match against (Y/n).

Though he was no longer on a team, he knew if he joined a club at his university he would have to think of strategies and plays to make him stand out.

Just as he thought about a particular back row attack (Y/n) had executed, the door of the lecture hall he was in swung open.

The professor sent a glare in the direction of the student who had just entered but softened her gaze once the student began to apologize profusely.

The voice was familiar, and the accent stuck out more than anything.

Kuroo quickly turned to the student, his jaw almost dropping once he saw (Y/n) desperately looking around the room for an open seat.

She had been drenched by the pouring rain; she most likely had begun to walk to class unaware of the weather forecast for the day.

Her eyes settled on Kuroo, then on the empty seat beside him.

He gave her a small smile and an awkward wave.

She returned both.

“If you could please take your seat, you can look over your classmate’s syllabus. I will give you yours after class.” The professor spoke, raising an eyebrow at (Y/n).

(Y/n) took a step towards Kuroo, froze, bowed at the professor, then rushed to the seat beside him.

Kuroo couldn’t help but snicker as some rainwater dripped off (Y/n)’s hair and onto his jacket.

She whispered an apology to him, trying to maintain some distance so she wouldn’t brush off any more water on him.

He placed the syllabus to the middle of the desk, took his pen, and wrote in the white space on the paper.

-Didn’t know it was going to rain today?

(Y/n) read the small note and playfully glared at him before taking her own pen and writing back.

-Nope. Had a party last night, woke up too late to check the weather.

-Already throwing ragers?

(Y/n) couldn’t help but snort as she wrote out her reply.

-It was an apartment-warming party, jerk.

-Well now that you know we’re classmates do I get an invitation to the next party?

(Y/n) glanced up from the paper, smiling softly as Kuroo raised an eyebrow at her expectantly.

-Maybe... you were so worried about my condition, it would be rude not to.

Kuroo’s eyes went wide for a moment. Of course Bokuto would blab to her about those texts. He hadn’t even asked about her often, but it must have been enough to warrant a report from Bokuto.

Rather than bring up the game or her injury, he instead opted to make her an offer she couldn’t refuse.

-How about I walk you to your next class with my trusty umbrella?

(Y/n) smiled softly and drew a small thumbs up under his message.

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“So, where we headed?” Kuroo asked, sitting on the corner of the desk as (Y/n) packed her things.

“You know you really don’t have to walk me.” She smiled, keeping her eyes on her things. “I wouldn’t want to make you late to your next class.”

Kuroo shrugged, “My next class isn’t until 11. I have plenty of time.”

“Plus,” he stood up, grabbing his umbrella and following (Y/n) out of the building, “I am dying to receive an invitation to one of your parties.”

(Y/n) smiled and stopped at the main building doors, waiting for Kuroo to open the umbrella.

The two stepped out into the rain, (Y/n) pressed close to Kuroo’s side. He never said it was a big umbrella, but it got the job done.

“Well, if you can handle a drunk Bokuto then you can definitely come.” she chuckled.

Kuroo felt a small pain in his stomach. “Bokuto’s coming here to?”

“He didn’t tell you?” (Y/n) asked, allowing Kuroo to pull her closer as a crowd of students moved past the two.

“We haven't really talked since nationals...” Kuroo trailed off. He felt (Y/n)’s smaller hand grip his jacket slightly.

“Well...” she bit her lip, “he lives about 10 minutes away from campus, 5 minutes from my building. So you two will be able to reconnect.”

Kuroo stopped suddenly, earning a look of confusion from (Y/n).

“This is the campus café...” she pointed out.

“Well you never said where your building was... plus you’re shivering! I’ll buy you a coco.” Kuroo said, adding an extra sprinkle of pep to his tone. He would have liked to tell her he’d rather reconnect with her, but it was their first time seeing each other after, well, the first time they ever met.

“I really don’t have time, I’m in building C and I heard my professor is kind of a freak about people being on time.” (Y/n) sighed.

Kuroo reluctantly turned from the café and continued on with (Y/n), trying to fill the void with small talk about class and the university. Once they arrived at Building C, (Y/n) was about to walk in when a heavy weight was placed on her shoulders.

She looked from the thick jacket to Kuroo, who smiled and shrugged at her. “Since you didn’t accept my coco, take me jacket to warm up. If you get sick you can’t host any parties.”

(Y/n) tried to refuse, only for Kuroo to start walking away.

“Wait!”

“Nope, not taking it back!”

“I need your phone number!”

oh...

Kuroo quickly turned around and jogged back to her. Rather than handing him her phone, she gently took his hand and began writing her number on his palm with a sharpie she pulled from her bag.

Kuroo wouldn’t help but smile softly to himself at the sight of his larger hand in hers. God, he was never this soft or this sappy, what was she doing to him.

“I’ll talk to you later... you can buy me a hot chocolate next time it rains.” She said. Without another word she turned towards the building and ran inside.

Kuroo looked back and forth between her retreating form and the number on his hand.

He really should have gotten that number a year ago, but better late than never.

#haikyuu #Haikyuu!!#Haikyuu requests #Haikyuu imagines #Haikyuu x reader #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro x reader #College Au #First Love Late Spring Series #kuroo tetsurō #Kuroo Tetsurō x Reader

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my-happy-little-bean · 4 years

Text

Patton Sits Outside

pairings: logan/patton (just in the background though, it’s fairly patton-centric) words: 1541 warnings: drinking, implied history of homophobia, mention of arguments summary: on the night patton moves out of his family house, he decides to have one last drink at home.

or: patton sits outside and reminisces, as per usual.

a/n- hello! welcome to a series of one shots called ‘let’s indulge bean in their slightly low quality, very personal fics’ lmao.

there’s actually one other one shot im working on that has a very similar personal vibe lol (so essentially, im working on everything except for golden slumbers pls dont @ me–)

but yeah! this one was written outside my house at 2 am, where i wrote on my front porch steps after lying down on the empty road for like, five minutes. i’m currently going through a thing :’)

read on ao3 ~

enjoy!

–––

Patton checked his phone as he sat outside on the porch stairs of his old family home. 2 AM.

He then looked down at his other hand, holding a beer bottle. He couldn’t remember the brand, but he did know that it was his third one that night; and it’s not as bitter anymore.

He set his phone aside, a single song playing on loop through the fuzz and static of his speakers. A moth landed on its bright screen, causing him to jump a bit. When the phone eventually dimmed to black, though, it flew off.

Huh.

Patton cracked open the beer bottle and took another sip, a warm feeling settling in his chest. It was nice, he thought. The warmth spread from his chest to his head, making it feel like butterflies were beating their wings in his skull, trying to make it float.

He really wouldn’t be endorsing heavy drinking to anyone he knew, but tonight was an exception. Tonight, the alcohol would make it all feel a little less heavy, even if he was supposed to feel lighter than air.

Because tonight, he was moving out and moving on.

He tilted his head up towards the sky. Nothing. At least, nothing worth remembering. The sky was an inky black, devoid of any stars or like, at least an airplane or something. But nope! There was nothing. It was just darkness, probably a few clouds, and the moths that have flown off his phone screen in search of more light.

Patton closed his eyes and tried to remember the vibrant, late summer nights he’d spend in his front yard, crouching down near the grass with a small mason jar, trying to catch fireflies with his dad. He pictured one successful night, actually; one where he quickly flipped the jar so he could cover the top, leaving a crack between his fingers for air.

And in the jar was light; a small bundle of it, fluttering confusedly against the glass. He stared at it for one whole minute before letting it fly off into the night sky. It was like it joined the rest of the stars; the stars that were practically glowing that night.

Him and his dad talked about during breakfast the next morning as his mom flipped a pancake.

Patton sighed, taking another long sip. He never caught another firefly with his dad ever again.

And he never will.

Patton straightened himself up and squared his shoulders. No, he had to stop dwelling on it all. It wasn’t like he was never going to see his family again. He’d come back for dinners and holidays, all the works. It’s not like anyone was leaving for good.

But he’d never live there again.

The song repeated itself and Patton sighed. It was his mother’s favourite, ABBA’s “Chiquitita”. She used to sing it all the time as she ironed the clothes in front of the TV, swaying softly as she folded his worn out jeans and handed them to Patton, who would always be right beside her, ready to place them safely in the laundry bin. She’d ruffle his hair when she sang the chorus, always. She even did it last week, on his last laundry day; as she taught him how to work the iron without burning himself.

And when she ruffled his hair, she suddenly seemed so much older.

So did Patton.

A sigh. Moving out was a natural part of growing up. Eventually, you outgrow the playground in front of your house where you met all your friends; and you outgrow the cramped bedroom you had all your phases in. Sure, he skipped the part where he moved to residence because his school ended up being so close, but eventually?

Well, eventually you meet someone.

Then suddenly, staying is the furthest thing from your mind.

Moving in together was something Patton and Logan went back and forth about for a long time. They didn’t live too far from each other, but they weren’t close enough for Patton to stay much longer.

And Logan always talked about moving forward. Patton could never listen without looking back.

He loved Logan. He loved him a lot. But if he were to be honest, he was terrified to move in with him. In a blink of an eye, everything would suddenly be different. Logan would be making them both coffee in the morning instead of his mom making pancakes. He would be talking about the articles in the paper instead of his dad pointing at the comics. Logan would be the first person he saw in the morning, and would kiss him on the forehead at night; not his mother.

Logan was so sure that this was the best kind of change, but Patton didn’t know if that even existed.

Another sip. Patton opened his eyes and took a deep breath. His eyes drifted over to the playground across the street and if he squinted, he could see two blurry figures under one of the lamp posts. They were younger than he was now. The silhouette of one of them revealed themself playing with a necktie. The other was rocking back and forth on his heels, slowly inching closer.

And they kissed when they got close enough; just for a brief moment.

Patton remembered the day as if it was yesterday.

Life with Logan was going to be amazing, he remembered; and the heaviness in his head disappeared for a brief second. Life with Logan was going to change so many things, but it’d move him forward; away from the small town he had admittedly outgrew in his second year of college, and away from all the old. He wasn’t starting from scratch, he was just starting something new.

Patton closed his eyes again and tried to picture his parents saying goodbye to him as he walked away from his family home, teary smiles painted on their faces.

When he opened them, tears were rolling down his cheeks.

Patton suddenly heard the sound of the door opening behind him and turned his head slightly, though didn’t need to look for who it was. He knew those soft footsteps from anywhere.

He scooched over to his left, letting his dad sit beside him. His dad looked at the bottle of beer in his hand almost questioningly, but Patton’s nod seemed to diffuse any stern talk he could muster.

They sat in silence for a bit, Patton wiping his tears with the sleeve of his jean jacket every now and then. When “Chiquitita” inevitably started up again, his dad cleared his throat.

“When’s Logan coming tomorrow?”

“10,” Patton murmured, his voice cracking. “We’ll be driving back and forth to grab boxes and stuff. It’s not that far.”

His dad chuckled. “Of course it isn’t.”

Patton turned to face his dad, his eyes still teary and his head suddenly heavy again.

“Do you think I’m–”

“Pat, come on.” His father nudged him slightly with a small chuckle. “Think about it before you say it.”

Patton forced his stare ahead, but smiled regardless. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“You love him.”

“I do.”

“And besides, you’d have to move out eventually. Your mother has been considering charging you rent now...”

It was supposed to be a joke, but Patton didn’t laugh. Instead, he took another sip of beer. His dad leaned back on his hands, looking up at the sky.

“I’m excited for you two,” he said, his voice slightly quieter.

Patton recalled the arguments he had with his dad about Logan, after he just came out to his parents. He remembered slamming the front door and marching down the stairs he was sitting on right now. He remembered seeing Logan’s car along the curb in front of his house, and he remembered hugging him tightly before hurrying into the passenger seat to drive away, swearing to never come back.

“I’m glad you are,” Patton finally said, sincerely. “I am too.”

“And you’re making the right choice,” his dad continued. “I know how you feel about this kind of stuff, but I promise you’re not leaving anything by going. You’re going to bring back so many new things whenever you come back; it’ll be like you never left, and then some.”

Patton smiled at the thought. “Thanks, dad.”

He set the beer bottle beside his phone and paused the song, giving way to the sound of wind moving through the trees and the crickets in the grass.

He took one more deep breath of it all, before something lit up in the corner of his eye.

His breath hitched.

A small firefly flew out from the grass on his front yard, floating lazily amongst the blades of green and moving up to weave itself through the tree branches. Soon enough, it drifted so far up that Patton could have sworn it was a star.

He then looked at his dad, who was staring up at it as well.

They both smiled.

Change was good. It had to be. It wasn’t a lot of the times in his life, but tonight was an exception. He prayed and hoped on the firefly in the sky that it was.

Because tonight, Patton was moving out, and moving forward.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #thomas sanders #thomas sanders fanfic #logicality #logan/patton #logic/morality #coming of age #essentially bean's nostalgia fest 2020 lol #gabbie writes things

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years

Text

When You Love Someone ~ Hoseok X Reader [Request]

A/n: I hope this okay for you @yoongisdumplingcheeks .... may have cried while writing it lmao okay bye, hope this is okay cause i know you didn’t give massive amounts of detail because you love to make my life a pain 💜💜💜

WARNINGS: Mentions of car accidents, divorce, and had upsetting themes but a happy ending

Genre: Angst, sad, fluff? Happy Ending

Word Count: 4,726

Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Bf3CJZ4hvg

Hoseok invited you to have a family dinner with his parents and sisters so you agreed, you picked out a floral button up tea dress with pockets, Mejiwoo had taken you shopping the week before to find something cute to wear and you saw the dress it was perfect for the evening and perfect for you. You and Hoseok had been dating for a year now, you met when you joined BigHit Entertainment as an idol, you were a singer you were working your way up to your debut and Hoseok helped you, he was helping you train every day and that's how you fell in love with one another, now you were a singer with an album and another one in the workings.

The meal had been planned for weeks and you were really looking forward to it, getting away from the drama that was going on back home that you hadn't spoken to anyone about, it would be a relaxing evening.

"How are you doing Y/n, how are the rest of your family?" Hoseok's mum questioned as you began to eat together, you nodded with what she was saying,

"They're great, I'm doing amazing. How about your Miss Hoseok?" You began talking when you felt your phone vibrating in your pocket, you shifted so you could end the call early without picking it up and smiled along with Hoseok as you both listened to his mother talking to you about her day.

You'd been ignoring your phone for most of the night at this point, you were trying to have a nice meal with Hoseok and his family but your phone was going crazy in your pocket, you couldn't stand it anymore.

"Excuse me," You whispered getting up from the floor and walking out of the back door, taking your phone out of your dress pocket and looking over the mass amounts of missed calls and texts from your mum, you wanted to scream out but you didn't, you unlocked your phone and dialled her number back.

"Mum, what's going on? I told you I was out tonight." The backdoor squeaked signalling that someone had come outside to see what was wrong, you glanced over your shoulder to see Hoseok with a questioning look on his face, you sent him a fake convincing smile to let him know that everything was okay even though it wasn't, you didn't want to worry him with anything and listened to your mum ranting on and on about your father.

"I'll be right there." You whispered hanging up the phone and turning to look at Hoseok you felt guilty for lying to him and now for skipping out on dinner but you didn't have any other choice.

"I have to go, tell your mum and dad that I'm really sorry." You took your keys from your pocket and looked over at the gate, you didn't want to have to walk through the house and explain to everyone why you were leaving in such a hurry,

"I'll drive you, what's going on?" You shook your head, pleading with him not to follow you.

"Nothing. Stay here. I'll text you." You said running out of the gate and into your car, not waiting to see if Hoseok would run after you because you knew he would and you didn't want that, you started up the engine and began driving home.

"Mum? Dad?" You called out rushing into the house, you dropped your keys on the coffee table inside the porch and you heard yelling coming from the upstairs bedroom, you glanced around the living room for any sign of your younger sister but it looked like she hadn't come home from her after school clubs yet which was good, she was too young to be caught in the middle of all of this happening around her.

"Mum?" You yelled out again trying to grab their attention but the fight between them seemed to be too big for either of them to notice that you'd come home from your meal early to see them even though your mum was the one that called you begging for you to come home, you went up the staircase to see them standing in their bedroom, your dad shoving clothes into an overnight bag, your mum screaming at him about something that you couldn't quite grasp.

"Dad!" You finally cried causing them both to stop screaming at one another in loud voices, your dad turned to look at you and then out of the front window of their bedroom, he saw your car parked on the drive and nodded to himself zipping up the bag and throwing it over his shoulder.

"Ah good." He said to you, pushing past you jogging down the staircase and picking up the keys from the coffee table, you walked over to your mum checking she was okay since she was crying heavily but as soon as you heard your car engine start you sped down the stairs and out of the house, sprinting down the drive to tell your dad not to go anywhere but he was pulling out of the drive and into the road as you screamed for him to stop.

"Dad!" You yelled as he drove off down the road, you stood there in the middle of the road staring at him, all thoughts of Dispatch that could have been watching out of your mind that didn't matter right now, he didn't even turn around or hesitate about leaving, he just got up and went. You walked back into the garden kicking over the bin that was there and going back into the house to find your mum crying in her bed, you knew this had been coming for a while, it was no surprise that he just left like that. They'd been fighting for months, it started over something small and eventually grew into something big.

"Mum." You whispered, going over to her and sitting beside her on the bed, she cried out more and rolled over into your arms, you rubbed the top of her head, kissing her and telling her everything will be okay.

"I'll go get Jamie from school." You whispered to her but she gripped onto your wrists stopping you from walking away.

"Don't tell her about your dad, she's too young." You nodded, going to look for your mums' car keys.

You'd been looking after the family for the last month, trying to piece the bits that were left of your mum back together. She was a wreck, at first she wouldn't get up for work, then she stopped making food and looking after you and your sister so you took matters into your own hands, becoming the parents of an adult female and a 13-year-old girl all at once, your singing career was put on pause after you called your manager and asked for an extension on work, giving her no reason except the excuse that it was personal, she allowed it and put out a public apology to your waiting fans. You began Forcing your mum to get up for work and get her shit together and taking your sister to school so she wouldn't fail any classes. Hoseok was constantly calling you but you couldn't stand to pick up the phone, no one knew about the breakup between your parents, BigHit threatened dispatch with a lawsuit if they tried to follow you around or realise any information without their consent. You deactivated your social media, you were too busy to be in a relationship or to look after your social media, the rumours that were going around were bad enough. It was probably harsh or it was nasty to him but you had to do something, you couldn't explain to him that your family was falling apart right in front of you.

"Mum. I'm going shopping, is there anything you want?" You called out as you walked down the stairs, it was 6 pm so your sister was home from school and you came around the corner to see your mum sitting at the kitchen table with your younger sister, finally explaining everything to her, where your dad was and why he wasn't staying with you anymore, you looked down at the floor feeling tears rush to your eyes, you shouldn't feel jealous that they were close even through this but you were...Nothing was explained to you about what was happening, you were just left to deal with the aftermath of it because you were the adult of the family and should just understand what was happening, forced to deal with the fact that your dad just walked out on you without explanation.

Hoseok checked his phone for the sixth time in the last five minutes, 6:15 pm was the only thing flashing at him whenever he checked the phone, he was at the studio with the rest of the boys wondering why you hadn't called. You never called him back after the family meal and whenever he would text you he would get blank and dull replies, it was like you were trying to break up with him in the worst possible way and it was hurting him more than he could talk about.

"No response?" Namjoon questioned sitting down next to him on the sofa, Hobi shook his head looking at the phone again, his lock screen a photo of you and him together, smiles wide and covered in ice cream after a dumb food fight that Jimin started.

"Maybe she's busy, you said she'd been distant before this right when she was having a creative block, maybe that's all it is...Give it time," Namjoon said to his friend remaining on the positive side rather than the negative one which is where Hoseok was at, trying to calm him down but Hoseok was worried about you. You'd never gone this long without checking in before, and it was strange for you to deactivate your social media without giving out a reason to anyone, you adored your fans too much to do that to them.

'We have to talk soon...'

"We have to talk soon..." You stared at the screen, you'd been staring at the text all night since you got it, you got home from shopping and put everything away, heading up to your room and ignoring your sister who was trying to get you to talk with her, you slammed and locked your bedroom door, you wanted to be left alone. Thanks to your parent's relationship yours was starting to fall apart, there was a light knocking at your bedroom door the only thing lighting up your room was your phone screen. It was 2 am no one should have been awake right now, you wiped away the tears from your face, locking your phone and going over to the door.

"What?" You questioned your mum as you pulled the door open to reveal her standing there, she was dressed in her nightwear and looked like she hadn't slept for days,

"You can't ignore your sister like you did today, she needs you." You hummed in response not wanting to talk about it right now, you wanted to focus on how you were going to fix your relationship with your boyfriend and not your sister, she shook her head at you looking you up and down, you were dressed in one of Hobi's jumpers and some leggings.

"Why did he leave?" You finally questioned, you wanted answers just like your younger sister did, your mum took in a deep breath.

"You know why." You shook your head.

"No, actually, I don't know why he left. He just got up and went. So please, enlighten me why did he leave us, mum," She sighed at you shaking her head and holding up her hands in defeat finally having enough of talking to you.

"I'm not doing this with you, maybe if you weren't busy shutting Hoseok out of your life, you'll understand when you truly love someone. Are the rumours true, were you just using him for his fame and money?!" You stared at her as she went to walk away from you, the tears finally came rushing to your eyes, even your own mother was starting to believe the terrible rumours going around. All of them claiming you were doing this because you faked your love for Hoseok, or that you just wanted him for the money.

"I don't get to know but Jamie does?! Tell me, mum! How does that make sense?!" She ignored you going back to her room and slamming the door behind her, you scoffed sprinting down the stairs and finding the car keys for her car, making sure you slammed the front door on your way out so she knew you were leaving.

You drove down the back roads at a fast speed, you knew it was wrong to speed but right now it was the only thing that made you feel better as you tried to get away from everything you were feeling, a nighttime drive normally helped you think about what you could do but this one was only making the situation worse, your phone lighting up on the dashboard the images of Hoseok's text came crashing back into your brain and your eyes welled up with tears, you didn't want to cry. You didn't want to break like this, you couldn't break like this, you turned a corner and kept driving, you had no idea where you were going, you could have been going in circles for hours but you didn't care, you just needed out of that house. Your phone began ringing it was your mum calling you probably trying to find out when you were coming back but you just threw your phone out of the window finally letting go of the scream you'd been holding in since the moment your dad left, it was the kind of scream that would make someone's blood run cold but you couldn't hold it in anymore, the tears began flowing down your cheeks and you couldn't stop them, you looked at the road and saw a dog rushing out in front of your car so you tried to swerve the dog but your wheels began to jerk around and the car lost control spinning off the dirt road and into a nearby tree, your body jerked forwards, then sideways as soon as your car hit the tree, your head colliding with the window and causing it to shatter, the moment the car crashed into the tree you thought you were dead, your kept blinking in and out of consciousness, whenever you were awake you could taste a metal which meant you were bleeding from your mouth.

"Shit." You whispered trying to move out of your seat but it was no use, your leg was trapped between the door and the seat, the force of the car hitting the tree must have jammed it into you, you whimpered out as you tried to shift away but your arm was broken, you let tears roll down your cheeks and you went to take your seatbelt off with your good arm but it was jammed into the lock and you were stuck there.

"Help!" You croaked out, hoping someone was awake and walking their dog, maybe the one you'd swerved to miss had an owner and would have seen the whole thing but it was more likely that the dog was a stray. Your whole body was aching as you cried out for someone to help you, why did you have to throw your phone out of the window.

"Mum...Dad..." You stuttered as your body began to get cold, you knew you were dying and there wasn't anything that could be done but you had to get out of there, you reached for the glove compartment ignoring the pain in your leg and arm, cutting through the seatbelt with the scissors your mum always kept in there. You knew the safety lock was on the only other doorway out so you were going to have to smash the window screen, you pulled the headrest out from the driver's seat, you'd seen on a survival show that they were used for smashing windows if you were stuck in a car.

You panted as you hit the grass, free from the car you stared up at the sky the only thing lighting up the area was the moon and stars above you, you smiled to yourself maybe it was a better way to go out than in the car.

Beep...Beep...Beep...You groaned as the beeping noise continued to annoy you,

"Go away, I don't want to go to school today." You mumbled reaching out your arm but having it feel heavier than usual, you slowly opened your eyes, waiting a couple of minutes for them to adjust the to bright white light above you,

"Y/n?" You looked down at your arm, it was in a bright pink cast you looked to your left and saw Hoseok sitting in an armchair and staring at you,

"Hobi?" You questioned trying to sit up in the bed but Hobi stopped you from moving, hitting the nurse button and coming to stand above you, he ran his hand over your forehead smiling sadly at you as you winced from the pain on your head, you had stitches from where you hit your head against the glass.

"You scared me." He whispered to you, you frowned why was he still here.

"I thought you were breaking up with me...Why are you here? If this is some kind of pity stay I don't want it Hobi." But he placed his lips on yours, the heart monitor beside your bed because to beep rapidly and he pulled away letting out a breathy chuckle as he was still able to affect you dramatically after a year of being together.

"No, I wanted to know why you were being so distant with me." You nodded at him and the door opened, a nurse walked in with a doctor so Hoseok got up from the chair, leaving you alone to talk about what happened.

"You could have talked to me about it." He said to you as he sat beside you on the hospital bed, you laid your head on his shoulder and he sighed.

"I didn't want you to know my family was falling apart while yours is perfect." You admitted, feeling tears rush up to your eyes, he shook his hand, taking hold of your good hand and giving it a small squeeze.

"You know I should never think less of you right?" You shrugged your shoulders and wiped your eyes.

"I know but I just wanted to keep it hidden. I didn't want you to see the broken part of me." You whispered to him, his phone was ringing.

"It's your mum. Give me a minute." He walked out of the room and you watched him through the glass as he spoke over the phone to your mum, you glanced around the room trying to make it look as though you weren't watching him.

"She wants to see you when you're out. She said your dad wants to see you too." You shook your head, maybe you were being dramatic or maybe you weren't but you couldn't go back and see them, you didn't want to see them.

"No, I can't. Hobi I won't." You pleaded, your heart monitor began to race again at just the thoughts of going to see them and he took hold of you, trying to calm down your breathing.

"That's fine, it's fine. You're okay." He reminded you, kissing the top of your head.

It had been three months since the accident and you still hadn't seen anyone from your family, you refused to go home and see your mum and you rejected to go and see your father maybe it was your way of shifting the blame onto someone else but you didn't care, you didn't want to see them, you'd been holding in your feelings for too long, ignoring the sadness you wanted to let out when your father first left and putting on a false front to keep everyone else stable but it was too much, you were just a daughter, you needed your mum to look after you too instead of just your sister but she didn't see it that way. Your mum saw it as you were an adult and should be able to care for yourself, look after yourself and didn't need to know why your dad was leaving, you were old enough to understand that some people just didn't work out while others did. You found yourself an apartment and moved in right away not bothering to get anything from your house, you didn't need them, you told Hobi you couldn't date him anymore, telling him it wasn't the right time and you didn't want to put him through the drama of leading him on, he understood agreeing for you to just be friends no matter how much he hurt him, he knew deep down that you just needed to be alone for a while, or just to be friends with people but he also knew you needed a new and healthy way to deal with the emotions you were experiencing and he was going to make it his mission to help you, and that's what he did. From the day you got home from the hospital he began helping you write songs for your new album, the first couple of them being romance songs about finding love but it wasn't the route he was going for, he knew you needed to get your feelings about your parent's divorce out and he knew it would help millions of other people if you spoke about it through your music.

You caught on after the first month as to what he was doing and you went along with him,

"It'll be a good way of getting them out...Then when the song is finished we can either burn it...or listen to it." You agreed at the time, thinking it would never get finished but that was two months ago and the song was finished, it had a backing track, you singing and Jin playing the guitar since you didn't quite have the skill down to do it yet. It was true, it did help you deal with everything, it helped you get everything you needed and wanted to say down onto paper but Hoseok wasn't done, he wanted you to sing it or play it for your mum and dad, they had to know what you were going through so that they could understand why you did what you did and that's how you ended up here.

Sitting on a stage in front of a venue full of people but the only people you were able to focus on were Hoseok and the boys, a couple of managers from BigHit who were wanting to hear the new track and then your mum and sister who were sitting a few seats away from your dad, all of them staring up at you, your fans were all stood in silence as they waited for you to start. The backing track started and you took in a shaky breath, you'd never experienced stage fright before but you were sure it felt like this, you had a pit in the bottom of our stomach, you felt like you were going to vomit any moment and you wanted to run away.

"There have been changes in this house, things that you don't know about in this family...It don't make sense, but nevertheless. You gotta believe us, it's all for the best." You began tapping your foot along with the guitar and slowly opened your eyes to meet your mum who was staring at her, the line she last said to you was coming up.

"Sometimes mums and dads fall out of love. Sometimes two homes are better than one. Some things you can't tell your sister 'cause she's still too young...Yeah, You'll understand...When you love someone."

The song finished and you walked off the stage, over to your manager who was complimenting you on how good the track was and you rushed into Hoseok who was waiting with open arms.

"Y/n?" You turned around in his arms to see your mum and dad both staring at you, your sister in their arms as they watched you.

"I'll give you a minute," Hoseok whispered in your ear and leaving you to be with your family.

"Dad. Mum." You greeted them coldly, but your sister didn't care she rushed forwards and threw herself into your arms, there were no words said, they all just crashed into you hugged you tightly, you fell down onto your knees and cried into your dad's chest.

"I'm sorry." You whimpered as your mum was the only one left hugging you, she shook her head pulling your face to look up at her and wiping the tears away from your face.

"You have nothing to be sorry for sweetheart, I should have been more considerate towards you...I didn't think about how it could be affecting you and your relationship...I called Hoseok right after you drove off that night and told him everything." You nodded, you knew that already. She called him and explained why you'd been so distant and begged him to find you, and take care of you because she couldn't do it, she didn't know how to help you and she hoped he would be able to.

"He's one of the best okay?" She said to you, Hoseok joined you on the floor and he pulled you into his chest, your back resting so close to him you could feel his heart beating against your back, this was the first time you'd been this close to one another in months and it felt nice.

"I love you." You whispered to him after your mum walked away to talk with your manager about your performance, you didn't care that you were sitting on the floor, you were sitting in the arms of a person who loved you more than words would ever be able to explain.

"I'm sorry I put you through hell...I just-" He shook his head, he didn't want to push you into talking about it but you had to talk about it, you had to tell him why you put yourself at a distance with him.

"When they split up...I didn't think love could be real, I figured if they couldn't make it work how could I ever be able to make it work with you." You whispered to him, playing with the bracelet around his wrists, it had your name and his combined together, you got it for him when you first started dating, it was a cute present from a fan of yours.

"I pushed off our relationship for four months Hobi...and I'm sorry, but I'm ready now...If you'll have me back." He smirked kissing the top of your head,

"Do you really think I wouldn't take you back." He whispered to you, wrapping your hands together and smiling as you relaxed against his chest,

"We never really broke up anyway, I was always there but as more of a friend than a boyfriend." He admitted to you, you hummed in response you were feeling tired from the performance, it was only short but the anxiety from it was tiring you out.

"Let's get you home you haven't slept right in months, and then I'll head back to the dorms." You pouted at him, he was right of course, you hadn't slept right in months because you found it hard to sleep without him next to you.

"Move in with me." You pleaded opening your eyes and twisting your body to look at him in the eyes.

"I don't know, we just got together and you're already saying you love me and you want to move in...Things are going too fast for me." He joked but you pushed against his chest playfully and kissed him on the lips.

"Just move in with me you dork." You whispered against his lips, leaning up and kissing him once more.

I feel like this isn’t anything like you wanted it Lauren. I’m sorry!! But tagline:

@snowy-meowl @yoongisdumplingcheeks @yourguessisasgoodasminemate @lynnthevirgo @kpopfanfictionhoes

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