#just to be clear this is revision for an exam so it is not every linear b tablet lol (which would be insane) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wittyminds · 9 months ago

Text

More Than A Feeling

This was just a random idea to distract me from revising for my exams. I'm slightly obsessed with him at the moment and just wanted to write some fluff that would make me even more sad than i already am. I know I also said that I would be doing a bucky barnes fic but... i got distracted and now can't commit to writing it. I'll probably write it eventually but i can't bring myself to do it right now.

I was also listening to More Than A Feeling by Boston when writing this so... it stuck.

Just a small fic of Steve Harrington and a bookworm reader girlfriend who is also Dustin's sister after their first time and the "chaos" that ensues.

Warnings: Fluff fluff fluff, Suggestive, Both Steve's and Reader's 'first time'

Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Dustin couldn't understand how it all happened or exactly when you stopped disliking the King of Hawkins but he was convinced it would all end in heartbreak. He did like Steve Harrington after he protected them all from all the dangers they had faced over the years. But dating his sister was a different matter.

To say he is overprotective of you would be an understatement.

You had spent your entire life protecting him from bullies and assholes and now it was his turn to keep you from the possible heartbreak that was Steve Harrington.

So when he peaked through the door to your room and saw the two of you curled round each other fast asleep, he couldn't help but feel upset and scared for you. It clearly wasn't the first time Steve had snuck through the window without anyone but you knowing and the thought brought disgust to his gut. He had invited his friends round as your parents were away. He now regretted the idea and wished he had agreed when Mike suggested his house instead.

He wasn't being dramatic, he had every right to believe that you could end up like all the other girls.

Before he could wake you both up, though, his friends had pulled him back and disappeared back into his room to discuss what they had just seen.

Steve, on the other hand, couldn't be happier.

Your head rests on his chest, arms wrapped round his body. A sheet covers you and he brings his hand up and down your arm gently as he gazes at you asleep. He has been like this since he woke up to see you curled round him, hair a mess, no makeup on and breathing softly onto his bare chest.

What had happened the night before had surprised you both, if he was quite honest with himself. He had been ready from the second date with you but you had made it clear that you wanted to wait. He had thought he was ready when he dated Nancy but when the time came, he froze and ruined the moment.

But now, here you were snuggled up close with memories of the night before playing through your dreams as your boyfriend watches over you lovingly. He can't remember ever loving anyone as much as he loves you and all he wants is to tell you, and keep you by his side till the day he dies.

Just as his hand stops grazing your arm, you roll over off of him and wriggle onto your side, still facing him. Your lips pull up into a brief smile before dropping again. He shifts his body onto his side too and props his head onto his arms, watching as your eyebrows pull together and your eyes flutter open slowly.

A huge grin falls onto his lips as you look up groggily with a bashful smile.

"Morning, beautiful." His voice is still husky from sleep and a thousand butterflies take flight in your stomach.

"Morning." You rub a hand over your eyes to try and wake up properly, to no avail.

"I was gonna make breakfast, if you're hungry." He lifts his head off his arm to give you a playful look that is sleepily returned.

He gets up from the bed and tries to track down his trousers and socks before perching on the edge of the bed to give you a soft kiss that lingers longer than usual.

His blushing face then leaves your eyesight and you roll onto your back with a disbelieving laugh, quickly covering your mouth to stifle it.

You were still questioning how the two of you were even together, total opposites from different sides of the school. The King and a bookworm.

You suppose, in a weird way, you could thank the horrors that you had both witnessed over the past two years for bringing you together. But you don't want to give the Upside-Down any credit for your happiness given it was a hell like no other.

You can still remember how much you had disliked him at first, the way he acted, the way he spoke to people, the way he made you feel about yourself. His "friends" had given you hell for years and when he had finally stood up to them and broken up with Nancy, you had seen the better version of Steve Harrington who laughed and smiled and actually cared without any fear of being judged.

As you lie on your back, you cans still feel the gentle press of his hands on your skin, hear the whispered words "Are you sure?". Still feel his face buried in the crook of your neck, hear the hushed laughter when he first appeared over you with a bashful "Hello."

It couldn't have been more perfect and you could smile forever in your new bliss.

You wrestle your way out of the warmth of the bedsheets, grabbing the closest article of clothing to you: his navy sweater from yesterday. The sleeves fall over your hands and you bunch it up in fists as you open the door and walk into the hallway.

Dustin's door is still closed and you creep past, so as not to wake him. He wouldn't quit poking fun at you or Steve if he saw you now so it was better to be safe than sorry to leave him sleeping in. It was the holidays anyway.

You're suddenly startled by the sound of pots and pans crashing against each other, followed by the sound of a terribly hidden string of curses as whoever spilled the contents of the cupboard tried (and failed) to catch them.

When you reach the kitchen door, you can see Steve busy at the stove, pots and pans sitting haphazardly on the counter and floor. Without a word, you lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, and watch him attempt to work the stove. A smile plays on your lips and eventually, you clear your throat quietly to get his attention.

He whips round, only to notice that it's you.

"Morning... again." You murmur softly, still smiling.

God, it was like you slept with a hanger in your mouth or something.

"Morning," He turns away as his cheeks blush bashfully, and you can't help but feel warmth at the thought of making Steve Harrington blush. The thought nearly turns your legs to jelly and you walk over to the stove to keep them working.

You swat his hands away from the buttons with a laugh and stand in his place to turn the stove on, hearing his almost silent "Oh." as you show him how to work it.

His arms snake their way round your middle and his chin falls onto your shoulder, your face heating at the contact. He places soft kisses on your shoulder, then your neck, and you run your hands along his forearms.

"Steve." You feel him hug you tighter at his name and his hum of acknowledgement is disguised by another kiss, "Last night..."

You trail off and he laughs against your neck, moving away to turn you round. His nose scrunches as your hands move to the ends of his hair out of habit and he sways slightly.

"Yeah?" You can tell he's wanting you to talk more and you repress a sigh.

"I just wanted to say I..." You can't seem to finish the sentence as you gaze into his eyes, the whole scene perfectly homely. You didn't want to ruin it with a love confession that might be rejected.

He watches you with curious smirk and you open your mouth to speak again but he cuts you off with a sweet, slow kiss.

Your hands move further into his hair and his pull you closer by the waist. More memories of meaningful kisses and the whispered confessions whilst pressed close together from last night resurface in your mind. The feeling of his hands, his lips, just his touch made your head spin and your forehead falls onto his, not breaking the kiss.

"Oh come on!"

Your brother's voice startles you both and you break apart, Steve keeping a hold of your waist.

Dustin stands in the doorway, his friends lingering in the hallway, awkwardly watching the scene playing out. You feel your face burn and turn to your boyfriend for help, but he seems entirely unfazed.

"A bit of privacy wouldn't kill you, Henderson." Steve grumbles, ignoring the disgust on Dustin's face.

"I live here." Dustin replies matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.

"And..?" You can't help but hold back a laugh at your boyfriend's oblivion and he pulls a face at you which lets the laughter escape.

Dustin pulls a different kind of face, "Well, when you two are finished grossing everyone out, I'd like some pancakes."

You roll your eyes and walk over to him, placing your hands on his shoulders to turn him round. He begins to protest but gives up when you give him a sharp pinch on either side.

"Just go upstairs and do whatever it is you do together there," You give him your most serious look you can muster with a stomach full of butterflies.

"Fine," He stomps up the stairs, "But I'm serious about those pancakes!"

You watch his friends follow him up, quickly noticing the two girls and yell up a quick "Leave the door open!" before turning to return to the kitchen.

Max stops and gives you a look that makes you freeze and eye her curiously.

"Yes?" You ask quietly.

"I was just thinking that the sweater is real subtle." Her eyes move along the sweater and you shift uncomfortably under them.

"I-I don't know what you mean..."

She snorts out a laugh and runs up the stairs.

"Nice hickey, by the way!" She yells after her and you throw a shoe up the stairs that hits her legs.

"Teenagers." You mutter under your breath and turn back to the kitchen to see Steve leaning against the counter, a smirk playing on his pretty lips.

"Want to tell me what's going on in that head of yours, Harrington?" Your voice is quiet and he closes the distance between the two of you in four long strides.

His thumb grazes your chin, pushing your face up to his before he kisses you again, a contented sigh escaping him. Once again, your hands find his messy hair and he grips the sweater with a little more power than before.

"God, I love you." His words are almost hidden against your lips but you freeze and pull away slightly, out of breath from both the kiss and his confession.

A blush creeps up his face and you can't help but smile before giving him another quick peck on his lips, relief filling you.

How can you have thought this man didn't love you enough to say it when he had blushed and grinned the entire morning. You love him to Jupiter and back a thousand times and realise, you had always really known he feels the same.

So, when the words leave your mouth and leave him a blushing mess, you can't help but know that this is your future.

You and him.

"I love you too."

***

A/N

I really hope you liked it and just a reminder that my requests are open via messages so just ping me a message if you have a request for any of the characters from my first post. Thank you! xx

232 notes · View notes

purinfelix · 6 months ago

Note

pablo gavi - academic rivals please🙏🙏

do i wanna know? ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ - pablo gavi

pairing: gavi x reader summary: when you started noticing a familiar face in every one of your classes, you hadn't expected it to lead to such an intense rivalry - at least, that's what you liked to call it warnings: none! w/c: 1.2k

a/n: no one knows HOW OBSESSED i am with this trope like i am such a sucker for it so i literally jumped to my laptop the minute i saw this ask ... sooo lmk if yall want a pt2 to this if u like it!!

“And what trunk movement does the internal oblique cause?” your professor’s voice echoed through the massive lecture hall, followed by the soft buzz of student discussion - only half of which you figured was relevant. You flung your hand up without even bothering to look up from your notes, confident in your answer from having already reviewed the content this morning.

“Ah, you in the back,” you heard, taking this as your cue to speak.

”Ipsi-”

“Ipsilateral trunk rotation,” interjected a voice from somewhere behind you. Hundreds of people were crowded together in this room for this anatomy lecture, but you were able to pick out the owner of that voice the minute he began to speak.

Craning your neck around with as calm an expression as you could muster, you locked eyes with Gavi, who only sent you a smug smirk as if to silently say “beat you”. You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to reply with a similarly silent “who cares”, before turning back around and trying to stave off the growing heat in your cheeks. But the reality was that you cared. In fact, you cared so much that that singular moment fogged your brain for the remaining two hours of your lecture, and if it hadn’t been for your prior revision you likely would’ve gotten lost.

You couldn’t remember specifically when it had begun - this strange, almost childish rivalry that sprung up between you two. If you had to say though, it was probably some time in between when you realised you had exactly the same schedule as him, after seeing him in every single one of your classes, and when the two of you tied for first ranked in your cohort for the last semester.

It wasn’t necessarily the fact that he was smart that annoyed you though, it was how effortlessly smug he was about it all. You’d need both hands to count the number of times you had left the library after an entire day of studying for an upcoming exam, only to walk past your campus’ football field and see him playing a match with his friends, their laughter almost tauntingly boisterous. Every answer to a question, every mark received, every essay submitted by him was enveloped in an air of instinctive confidence you envied.

But, you were old enough not to let yourself be disheartened by the sight of naturally talented people - having come to terms with the fact that hard work and discipline was your weapon of choice a long time ago. So, you threw yourself into your studies harder than ever before with a fervour that was only spurred on any time you saw Pablo and his friends messing around in the library, on the rare occasions they actually went.

This also might’ve been a little more manageable if he wasn’t intent on teasing you at every given opportunity. Every single time you were given a grade, a score, a mark back, he would be waiting for you outside the classroom, ready to compare with an unmistakably arrogant and eager smirk painted across his features. You bit your lip recalling the last time you had compared scores for your stats class, only to find out he had beat you by one mark. You couldn’t remember the question you had gotten wrong or how to do it, but the image of his smug look of victory once he realised he had beat you was forever burned into your memory.

With just five minutes left, your attention was snapped back to the lecture as your professor cleared his throat to gain the attention of your class.

“Oh and while you’re all packing up, I just wanted to remind you that your marks from the last test are available online now! Check them and let me know if there’s any issues, see you next week.”

With his dismissal, the room around you burst into chaos as students packed up, desperate to flee the lecture hall as fast as possible. You remained still though, eagerly opening your phone to check your mark, heart racing. Once the numbers flashed across your screen, you pocketed your phone, satisfied, and got to packing up like the rest of your peers.

Exiting the hall you spotted a familiar face, rolling your eyes as Gavi spotted you through the crowd and waved you down eagerly. You pushed past a couple classmates as gently as you could before making it over to the corner he was patiently waiting for you in.

“So?” he asked.

“You first,” you pressed, trying to hide your smile.

“What? I asked, you go first,” he crossed his arms as the smug expression you had grown used to after many of these similar post-lecture rendezvous spread across his face, “unless…”

“Unless?”

”You’re ashamed of your mark.” His reply made you scoff louder than you had intended, and he quirked an eyebrow in interest. “Well?”

“Full marks,” you muttered, avoiding eye contact in an attempt to seem as nonchalant as possible, and potentially to prevent your cheeks from burning red again.

“Oh shut up, I got 98,” you figured he would’ve been upset but he was still smiling, if not wider than before.

“What’s with that look?” you furrowed your brows, turning to him.

“Well, I’m not surprised, you’re the smartest in the class,”

“Oh c’mon Pablo if you really think saying things like that is going to get to me then y-”

“I mean it,” he interrupted for the second time that day, and from the earnest look in his eyes you could tell he was being honest - not that that made it any less confusing, but it was nice to know he wasn’t just winding you up again.

“Yeah whatever,” you scoffed, “not like it was that hard or anything.”

“You’re kidding right?” he laughed again, “I almost died taking that test, it was nearly impossible! I can’t decide if you amaze or scare me.”

“Well maybe if you spent more time actually studying, you wouldn’t find it so hard. Plus you did well anyways.”

“No amount of studying would make me anywhere as smart as you,” he sighed, “though if that’s an offer for me to study with you, I won’t turn you down! I’ve got practice to get to though, so not today.”

All previous attempts to hold back your flustered expression gave way and you felt your cheeks burning bright red. “What? No!”

“How’s tomorrow night, 8pm? I’ll meet you in the library, at your normal spot?” he said, already turning to leave.

”Huh?” was all you could let out but by then he had already jogged around the corner and was definitely out of ear shot.

You stood there, your heart pounding as you gripped the straps of your bag with sweaty palms. Millions of questions raced through your head - Had he actually called you smart? How would he know where your normal spot in the library was? If it was going to be just the two of you, wasn’t this practically a date? - and unlike the confidence you had felt earlier when facing your professor’s questions, it seemed like these were ones you might never get the answers to.

#pablo gavi #gavi x reader #gavi x you #gavi fluff #gavi oneshot #gavi imagine #gavi fanfic #football #fc barcelona #fanfic #football fanfic #purinfelix #jet writes ★#jet answers ✧

223 notes · View notes

greg-montgomery · 1 year ago

Text

any other world - part 1

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader - soulmate au

series masterlist

prologue

once again a huge thanks to this angel @criminalskies 🥹🫂🩷

(38)

“Haley, I said no.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so opposed to that name.” She smiled; Aaron assumed it wasn’t a genuine reaction, but more of an attempt to lighten up the mood.

This happened a lot. She’d say something that made him think of you, he’d have a reaction, and she’d pretend she didn’t notice. It broke his heart, but there was nothing he could do about it.

“If you have a different name in mind I’m open to suggestions,” she added, taking his hands in hers.

He leaned in to kiss her. “Just any other name besides Jack. Please.”

“Okay.”

(20)

“Aaron…” you whined, kicking one of the pillows that decorated your bed on the floor. “Be done with it already.”

“My exam is at 8 am. I won’t have any time to revise in the morning. Just give me thirty more minutes.”

“I can’t sleep without you.”

“I know. But if I come to your bed to study, I will not be studying,” he argued, since there was no need of you to say anything for him to get what you were insinuating.

“I’ll just lay my head on your chest. I promise I won’t even talk to you.”

“Fine,” he said, always unable to say no to you; even though your weight on him and your sweet scent would definitely make the letters on his papers start dancing.

But you kept your promise. You carefully laid on him, letting him wrap one of his arms around you. The only thing you did before closing your eyes was kissing the inside of his wrist, just like you did every night.

“Good night.”

“Good night, tulip,” he whispered and turned his attention back to his notes. He’d ace the test and then he’d get to hear the words ‘I’m so proud of you, baby!’ from your sweet lips. Then all the sleepless nights of studying would be worth it.

(21)

That couldn’t be right. There was no way that was right.

H.B.

Aaron would never forget the heartbroken look on your face when you saw those letters. The way your excited smile faded into an expression that went straight through his heart and made it bleed.

He was desperate to comfort you, but how could he find the right words to say when his whole world was crumbling in front of his eyes too? Every single dream, every single plan for the future, every single promise had vanished into thin air.

“These are not my initials,” you said quietly. You were still holding his hand in yours, staring at the new mark on his skin.

“Baby…” he whispered, cupping your cheek.

“No, Aaron,” you said, your eyes slowly filling with tears, “These are not my initials.”

Aaron pulled you into his arms as you broke down crying. You were holding onto him with a strength he didn’t know you had. He rubbed your back, trying to clear up his own thoughts.

How could the girl in his arms not be his soulmate? His best friend, his lover, his partner in everything? You were his family.

“I don’t care,” he whispered in your ear. “I don’t care what the mark says. You’re my soulmate.”

“I’m not,” you sobbed, pulling back so you could sit face to face again.

“You are. You’re the love of my life.”

“Apparently I’m not though,” you raised your voice. He knew you weren’t angry at him, you were angry at life. “God, Aaron, what the fuck? How could we have been so wrong?”

“We haven’t been wrong. I’m not gonna let an unknown fucking force decide who I’m spending my life with. You’re the one I want and I’m staying with you.”

“That’s not how it goes.”

“That’s exactly how it goes.”

You closed your eyes and breathed deeply, the way you always did to calm yourself down.

“Maybe we’re just meant to be friends.”

Aaron grabbed your jaw with his hand and pulled your face close to his, “Tell me when I was inside you earlier making you cry about how good you felt, did it feel like we were meant to be just friends?”

You wrapped your hand around his wrist and removed his hand from your face. “It doesn’t matter how I feel.”

“That’s actually all that matters to me.”

A deep sigh escaped your lips. “What are we going to do, Aaron?”

“I don’t know. We’ll figure it out, as long as we’re together.”

“This isn’t how tonight was supposed to go.”

“I know, my tulip.”

“It’s unfair,” you added, like a kid whose toy was stolen by their sibling.

“I know. But I love you, okay?”

“Okay.”

Aaron was grateful you let him hold you when he pulled you into a warm embrace. But it was impossible to keep the thoughts from running into dark places. Like the clear skin on your own wrist which would be soon stained with initials that weren’t going to be his either.

(21)

It felt like the mark on Haley’s wrist was mocking you.

A.H.

The two letters you had been craving all your life to have them written on your skin, were decorating her wrist instead.

Haley was beautiful, smart, popular. The perfect girl next door.

You and Aaron had met her in high school. She was staring in a school play he was forced to participate in because of a bet he’d lost. You got along with her pretty well, and so did Aaron.

Back then you weren’t worried over the way they both used to geek over Star Wars – which you simply couldn’t get into, no matter how hard Aaron had tried to make you love – during rehearsals. You weren’t worried when he’d invited her to his birthday party that year and you had noticed her eyes sparkle when he had played his favorite Beatles’ song.

Back then none of that mattered. Because back then, Aaron was your soulmate.

Yet you still couldn't hate Haley, because she was in pain too.

Her birthday only a month after Aaron’s had confirmed your suspicions that his soulmate was her. And you could relate to her heartbreak, when Aaron had to break the news to her. When he informed her that no matter what their wrists said, he was choosing you instead.

Neither of you truly had him, and in that way you understood her.

(21)

“Here.” You placed the hot cup of coffee you’d made for Aaron, next to his book.

“Thank you, honey,” he said, reaching out his hand to touch your waist under your shirt. With that motion he pulled you close to him, so you were standing right in front of his chair.

He wrapped his arms around you and your own hands got lost between his hair. Aaron left a tiny kiss on your stomach and looked up at you. “I’m anxious.”

“You’re going to do great. You’ve been studying non-stop for days now.”

“I don’t feel like I’m doing enough,” he admitted.

“You’re always so hard on yourself.” Your thumb rubbed the short hair on his temples as you kissed the tip of his nose. The nose kiss was followed by a soft one on his lips, before you pulled away again. “You’re doing more than enough. And I’m so proud of you.”

His dimples made an appearance and your heart smiled at your success. “There’s my boy.”

“Shut up,” he laughed, rolling his eyes. You could just pinch his cheeks every time you made him shy.

“Do you want me to help? We can go through some questions together. I’ll ask, you’ll answer.”

“Yeah,” he said, looking through his notes. “Haley gave me-”

At the realization of saying her name, he paused.

“It’s okay, you can mention her around me, I’m not gonna break,” you said, hoping you successfully hid the fact that you were annoyed.

He cleared his throat and continued. “Her cousin took the same exams last year, so she gave me his notes. He has written down all the questions that were on the test.”

“Good then. Let’s get to work.”

(45)

“Good night, buddy,” he whispered, leaving a sweet kiss on his son’s forehead. Jack usually replied with a ‘Good night, daddy,’ but he was already fast asleep.

As Aaron made his way to the living room in order to clear up the floor from his son’s toys, he heard a knock on his door.

He walked towards it as silently as he could, and looked through the peep hole; the fear of a possible intruder still poisoning his blood.

But the face he saw on the other side of the door took his breath away.

A face he hadn’t seen in years. A face he saw every night in his sleep.

He didn’t let a second more to pass before opening his door.

“Y/N?” he said in a breath.

Your eyes were red, and full of tears. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

tag list: @magical-spit @lilsunshine1092 @hiraethrhapsody @cult-of-enji-todoroki @emo-markie

#aaron hotchner #hotch #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #hotch 🪐#any other world

540 notes · View notes

theemporium · 2 years ago

Note

wolfstar x reader remus and sirius spoiling reader

thank you for requesting!🖤

“This is too much.”

“One would argue it’s not enough.”

“I’m serious—”

“No, I’m Sirius.”

You shot the boy a look, completely unamused by the joke. But it was a little hard to look threatening when you were surrounded by a variety of bags and boxes from different shops—which Sirius was happy to remind you every time you tried glaring at him from your spot on his bed.

You had chosen to stay in for the weekend, the upcoming assignments and exams stressing you out more than you cared to admit. Your boyfriends had tried to convince you to take a break, to go out for a few hours at least and enjoy some fresh air but you had waved them off and told them to enjoy a cute day out without you. There was plenty of time after exams to make up for the lost time.

So you could imagine your surprise when Remus and Sirius had returned from their day out in Diagon Alley and started showering you in gift bags and gift boxes until you could barely see the notes you had spread across the bed to revise—until you could barely move from the bed yourself.

“You have to return these,” you told the boys, shaking your head as you tried to mentally calculate just how much everything would have cost. There were bags with shop names you didn’t even recognise because it was in the fancier parts of Diagon Alley you usually ignored. “This is insane—”

“It’s what you deserve,” Remus corrected you as he walked into the room, unashamed in the way he placed the last of the bags at the foot of the bed. “You’re working yourself too hard, love, you deserve something for all your hard work.”

Your cheeks burned. “I haven’t even finished my exams, I could have done completely shit—”

“And we would still buy you a world’s worth of gifts,” Sirius said with a casual shrug. “I have more money than I know what to do with, darling, it’s only right I treat my girl.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you glanced back down at the gifts surrounding you. Your family was by no means poor. You had what you needed with a roof over your head and food on your plate. You got gifts from your parents on holidays and special occasions, and sometimes a little spending money if you were lucky.

But this? This wasn’t something you were used to at all.

“Relax, darling,” Remus cooed softly when he noticed the look on your face, like he could see the thoughts swirling in your head and sending you into overdrive. “We just wanna show you that we appreciate you, that’s all this is.”

You nodded a little. “That’s a lot of appreciation.”

Sirius’ lips twitched. “You’re our good girl, the best girl for us.”

You squirmed a little under his intense gaze, clearing your throat a little. “I still think this is completely unnecessary.”

Remus just winked in response, trying to hold back his smirk. “Don’t worry, love, I’m sure you can find a way to make it up to us.”

“A few of these gifts are for us too,” Sirius commented vaguely, though the glimmer of desire in his eyes gave you a good idea just what a few of these bags held inside them.

717 notes · View notes

marigold-hills · 7 months ago

Text

june 2: oyster | @wolfstarmicrofic | word count: 502

PREVIOUS PART • NEXT PART

“Alright there, Moony? Looking a bit pale,” Sirius asks in between inhaling his breakfast and reviewing what sparse notes he made for the Potions NEWT.

Remus looks up from his mug of tea (gripped between large hands like a lifeline). There are shadows under his eyes: another late night, then. Exams are upon them, and the way Remus studies has become obsessive.

“You need food too, mate,” James piles bacon onto Remus’ plate, ignoring his grumbles – almost growls, since it’s only a week until the full moon and the lines blur a bit in those days. “Yes, you’re very big and very scary. Now eat your breakfast.”

I should have done that, Sirius thinks because something in him believes the job is his. He’s never been good at caring for anything, hanging onto James even for his own needs, but it’s different, somehow, with Remus. There is a duality: being thankful for James’ care and resentful of it.

The owls come as they do every day, a flurry of wings and feathers. It’s a bright, clear day and they disturb the sun rays as they swoop through the Great Hall.

Remus gets the newspaper (something obscure about literature) and a beautiful, haughty looking owl lands in front of Sirius, raising a dignified foot with a small parcel for him to unwrap.

“What did you get?” James asks as the owl takes off, scoffing at Sirius’ offering of a sausage.

It’s an oyster shell, gold encrusted with an artisan's precision. Inside of it a marble eye, a shade of green which reminds him of autumn and of something else. He finds comfort in the colour - it’s why he chose it – a memory of warm fires and long cozy nights, of the happiness he feels when, as Padfoot, he’s surrounded by pack.

Sirius clips the silver chain the oyster is attached to around his neck “It’s an oisrí feiceálaí,” he hopes he doesn’t butcher the pronunciation, glances at Remus to make sure, “I’ve come across them when researching for my dissertation.”

“What does an oyster have to do with ancient runes?” Remus finds his voice at the bottom of the tea mug.

“Well… nothing. I just thought it was neat. It’s the symbol of fifth dimensional vision.”

“Sure you didn’t accidentally study Divination?”

“Hilarious, Prongs.”

Something catches James’ eye across the Great Hall – more likely someone – and he shoots up with a harried I have to go, see you at the exam!

Remus leans across the table, with a careful hand reaches for the necklace. Studies it, turning it around in his fingers. They oyster looks small in his grasp, the silver more pronounced against the golden skin.

“Very pretty, Sirius,” he says, and Sirius feels the sentence like it means something else, “Will you tell me more about it, after the exam?”

Remus looks up from the oyster, straight into Sirius’ face, eyes reddened and shiny from the lack of sleep and –

- well, Sirius knows what the green reminded him of.

NOTES:

this is part two of a 30-part series of shorts: I’m aiming for them all to be readable as standalone but are a part of a bigger story (better read together and in order, in my opinion)

oisrí feiceálaí, to the best of my knowledge, means seer oyster in Gaelic. It’s not actually a thing but I came across this and thought it was pretty and ostentatious enough for Sirius to wear ALCHEMICAL OYSTER PEARL

Remus is always autumn to me - by that logic Sirius in Winter, James is Summer (self explanatory, really). Peter is Spring I suppose. But I don’t ever write him into my fics so who’s to say

speaking of Peter - let’s say he’s already at the venue for the potions exam, absolutely shaking from stress and desperately cramming last minute revision

@lightningmonarchda3 @bowielover420 @tealeavesandtrash @digital-kam

(let me know if you do/don’t want to be tagged in next parts)

#wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #marauders era #marauders #microfiction #wolfstar microfic #remus x sirius

85 notes · View notes

kay-elle-cee · 3 months ago

Text

@jilytoberfest 31 Prompts: Day 5 || 1097 Words || Read on Ao3 —

10 June 1978

She’s sitting in the shade of a large tree on the Hogwarts’ grounds, her back propped against its bark as James approaches her, a tentative smile on his face.

“So…what did you think?”

Lily groans, tilting her head back and closing her eyes as she feels him take a seat next to her. The grass is soft and warm beneath them, a nice June breeze rustling the leaves above that cover them with shade.

“I revised the most for Arithmancy but after sitting the exam, I’m still shaky on it. I don’t think I did too poorly, but I can kiss an O goodbye.”

“I’m sure it went alright,” he says, nudging her shoulder. “You likely did better than I did.”

She looks up at him, exasperated. “You say that, but you have this infuriating ability to breeze through things with half the amount of studying, you know.”

Though he’s the subject of her fleeting ire, he can’t help but grin as he takes in how lovely she looks, even in her frustration. He bends down to kiss her nose and dodges a swat with a laugh.

“Even if it’s not an O, I’m sure one extra Exceeds Expectations won’t be the be-all, end-all of your illustrious future Ministry career.” Beside him, Lily heaves another sigh as she rests her head on his shoulder, and it compels him to offer further comfort. “Me? I’m expecting Os for Transfig and Charms, but I’m pretty certain I got my rebellions and uprisings mixed up in History of Magic. I’m hoping to scrape by with an A.”

“You’ve got the name though,” comes her light lamentation. “Even with less-than-stellar N.E.W.T.s, everyone will clamber to hire a Potter—”

“I think you overestimate the sway of that name outside the potions sphere—”

“Who on earth wants an Evans?”

James disturbs her resting head to wrap an arm around her and pull her closer to his side. “Well I do, for one. Maybe I haven’t been the clearest—”

Lily’s laugh interrupts him, green eyes glittering with the compliment as they roll at his profession. “Can you just let me stress about my future a bit without swooping in and making love confessions? I was just saying, with everything going on out there—the war, the anti-muggleborn sentiment—I just…want to do the best I can, yeah?” She picks at a blade of grass beside her, retreating into her mind a bit. “I mean, I might not even apply for that position. Not with our other offer. But I want it to be on the table. And I want to know that I know this stuff.”

“Well, Lil, tests aren’t really the measure of that.”

She fixes him with a slightly bemused look. “That’s exactly what they are, actually.”

He brushes her (very correct, thank you very much) statement away with a shooing motion and shakes his head. “So you’ve got some numbers wrong on a test. For whatever you’re looking at doing next—potions regulation or, you know…fighting—you know what you’re doing. A letter difference on one stupid test doesn’t define whether you ‘know’ that.” He punctuates this impassioned speech by tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “You’re brilliant, and I know that. And I reckon anyone who spends five minutes talking to you will, too.”

Her face is warm, a blush burning in her cheeks under James’ praise. She rests her head on his shoulder again, nestling in closer to him as she looks out at the other students milling around on the lawn. How many of them have a clear direction of their lives once they leave this place? How many of them are able to continue as they are—unbothered and untouched by a war that plagues her every thought of ‘next’?

The results of her N.E.W.T.s feel like the most pressing thing in the world, until they don’t. Until she remembers an invitation to an organization that operates in secret, that’s working to fight the wickedness that is the core reason her future is in such flux. But even that, as tempting an invitation as it is, feels unfair at times—insulting. Why shouldn’t she get to lead the life she’d once envisioned? Graduating and working with potions, or working for the Ministry, or any host of normal, non-combative options. The anger of injustice simmers in her veins—the unfairness of it all, the exhaustion that comes with it.

“Do you ever just think of running away?”

The musing slips out without intention, and her stomach clenches. She’s no coward, and she doesn’t expect James to think of her as one, but it’s a question she can’t take back.

His answer comes after a pause: light, like the June breeze around them. “Not really, but I can see the appeal.”

Her worries ease, and she traces idle shapes on the arm that’s around her. “I haven’t thought about it seriously. Not since I was about fifteen and fighting something awful with my sister, and even then it was very fleeting.”

“Where would we go?”

The question catches her off guard and she cranes her neck to look up at him. “What?”

“If we just packed up and ran, where would we go? No N.E.W.T.s needed.”

Her heart flutters. Always willing to go along with a distraction (sometimes to a fault), it’s one of the things she loves about him.

“I’d like to travel,” she starts, turning to look back out at the lawn. “I haven’t really gotten to do that before. But realistically—”

“Why isn’t traveling realistic?”

“It costs money, James.”

“I’m aware of that. I’m coming with you, remember?”

Lily opens her mouth to say something, and he twines his fingers with hers, giving her hand a squeeze.

“You may have to help with the currency conversion, but it’s not an issue. Now, where would we travel?”

It takes a moment for her to find her voice, her lips twitching into a smile. She won’t argue with him too much over a hypothetical, though she knows his offer is anything but. “I’ve been to Spain once, but I’d like to see Paris. Maybe Italy—ooh, Iceland!”

The excitement of her imaginary itinerary has James chuckling as he leans down and places a kiss on her grinning lips. “Sounds great. Just…pack and tell me when we’re off.”

She leans in for another kiss, savoring him and this moment as a brief one of clarity amidst the chaos, thankful for the boy who can indulge her in her silly distractions.

#a life with you #jily #jilytober #jilytober2024 #jilytoberfest2024 #jple #james potter #lily evans

43 notes · View notes

the-kr8tor · 1 year ago

Text

Threaded Through

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 6.7k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, No specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), Hobie is mentioned taller than R, CW food mention, Drinking, CW spiders, TW arachnophobia, Suggestive content, Fluff.

My Navigation

Thread the Needle Masterlist

CHAPTER 9 >>> CHAPTER 10

"Hobie!" You whisper yell, "what are you doing?" Eyes scanning the dark, ears perking up at the chains rattling.

"Relax, no one's here" Hobie slips through the metal gate where the chains of the lock stretched enough to give him room to wiggle himself inside. "C'mon then" he extends his hand to you, flexing his fingers impatiently. The dirty sign on the gate reads 'no trespassing' adding to your worry.

You tap your foot, biting your lip, looking behind the abandoned theme park. "Nuh uh, nope" shaking your head, you're sure something ran past behind a decrepit tent. "I'm not dying inside the old carnival! Let's just go back to the party"

"That party sucks, they're playing spin the bottle, bloody original of 'em" he scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Besides we've got the good booze" sure enough, Hobie brings out a bottle of vodka tucked inside his zipped leather jacket. The liquid swishes inside as he shakes it for good measure.

"Where'd you even get that?" You laugh, surprised, eyes twinkling in the moonlight.

"Brent's dad's liquor cabinet" he says, a smug smile on his lips. "Come the fuck on, I'm freezing my balls off" Hobie lifts up the chains as far as it would allow so you could duck under it.

"We have exams on Monday!"

"Easy enough, it's all just stock knowledge" he points at his temple.

"For you it is. I'm not like you, I actually need to revise."

"And you will, Come on" Hobie sees you sticking to your stance, sighing. "If i help you revise tomorrow will you come inside?"

"Fine, I'll blame you if we get murdered by a killer clown" You duck under while Hobie's hand shields your head from the rusty metal.

"I can take him–" Hobie stops mid sentence as you stand to your full height, face mere inches away from him. So close he can see every detail of your face, how the light bounces off your eyes, clouds of air puffing out of your lips. His breath hitches in his throat.

"You and those skinny arms? Don't think so, Hobs" you try to play it off, lips pursing closed, trying to even out your breathing. "Where to go next?" You chuckle nervously, stepping away from him, taking in his sudden silence as him being uncomfortable.

"I've been eyeing that ferris wheel" Hobie shakes his head, clearing his thoughts. He walks side by side with you, keeping you close. In case there is a killer clown on the loose.

Eyes on the rickety ride. "God, no! That thing hasn't been working since the eighties, you wanna kill us?" You didn't notice that Hobie's not next to you anymore, whirling, you look for him. "Hobie? Hobie! What the fuck?" Hugging your bubble jacket closer to you in comfort. "It's not funny, Hobart!" Yelling out, you have a sudden urge to run away, but you don't, not intending to leave him.

You jump when lights suddenly turn on, blinking at you. Colorful bulbs do their best to stay on after not being used for years. You gasp out, laughing breathlessly. The place doesn't seem so scary now. You half expect the speakers to come back to life, but it doesn't, the only noise is from the whirring of the old generator and crickets singing in the dark.

Hobie lingers on the side, bottle in hand, completely enthralled with you bathed in light. A love sick smile stuck on his face.

"Hobie! Holy shit" noticing him, you call out to your best friend, waving your arms in delight.

He saunters to you, absolutely smug, you scoff playfully at his ego. "Let's hear it" Hobie brings his hand to the shell of his ear, acting like he can't hear you.

"What do you want me to say? Good job?"

"How 'bout 'You're the man, Hobie!' Or just start showering me with praises"

"I'll shower you with that vodka if you don't stop"

"Rude of you to assume I wouldn't actually like that"

You shove him lightly, "Good job flicking a switch, Hobart"

"Oi, I had to figure out which switch to open"

Rolling your eyes, you grab his arm, putting a stop to your bickering, if you don't you two would've gone all night. Leading him further inside, Hobie slyly moves his arm so he could hold your hand instead, you pretend to not notice, finding the lights to be the most interesting thing in the world, your hand cups his warm ones, squeezing it lightly.

Friends do this too, right?

Hand in hand, you stop at a booth that looks like it was for some kind of carnival game. Cartoon clowns lined up on the far back, mouths open. There's still some stuffed toys hanging on the side of the booth albeit too dirty or broken to take with you.

"Oh man, I wanted one" You pout, leaning on the divider to check for better looking toys. Hobie copies your movement, rummaging behind the counter.

Something hits your head with a squeak, you glare at Hobie acting nonchalant, feigning innocence as he examines a soft ball. You bet that it squeaks when squeezed.

"Oh 'kay" you bite your lip, blindingly reaching out towards the first thing you touch, unfortunately for Hobie it was a crusty plushy, aiming for his head, it hits him square on the chest, leaving grime and cobwebs all over his jacket.

You laugh loudly as he wipes wildly at his clothes, yelping when his hand touches something wet.

"Disgusting!" Hobie has an idea, he extends his arms towards you for a hug, taking small strides. "Come here, lovey" with a mischievous glint in his eyes and a lopsided smile, he closes the distance.

"No, don't even think about it!" Walking backwards with a smile, your back hits a pole. "Ack!" You screech when he embraces you, warmth and his familiar scent wafts your senses. A giggle escapes you, making Hobie hug you tighter.

"Now we both smell" you try to wiggle out of his hold, Hobie shakes you from side to side, you go dizzy in his arms, going limp, feigning hurt. "Oi," he shakes you lightly, chuckling at your antics. "She's dead, I can finally sacrifice her to the clowns" he moves you towards the cartoon clowns.

You drag your feet, he carries your full weight. "A little help here?" Hobie asks, you open one eye only to tightly close it again. "I'm tryin' to appease the gods here y'know" he says in between laughs, flicking your forehead.

"Really clown gods? Could've chosen better ones" you smile giddily up at him, he beams back at you, cradling the back of your head.

He scoffs, "or a much more willing sacrifice" Hobie straightens you out, fixing the collar of your jacket. You let out a small thank you, hot where his fingers grazed your skin.

"I saw somethin' better than the ferris wheel" he mumbles out.

"Yeah? Let's go then" taking his hand in yours you loop your pinky finger with his. Hobie leads you with a wobbly smile.

—

Hobie helps you up on the large Gondola, an out of commission viking ride that's supposed to swing up and down, now it's inoperable, looking glum amidst the twinkling lights. A wooden mermaid is carved on its bow, marred by time and exposed to the elements. It must've been a sight back then.

Using your foot as leverage, Hobie lifts you up by your hand, "I've got you" he heaves, your foot loses balance on the edge, threatening to fall off. "Shit!" Gasping out, you reach for his neck as he panics to grab a hold of you.

"I have you—Holy fuck!" Hobie secures you by your waist, your eyes tightly closed, head right on the crook of his neck. "You okay?" He places you back on solid ground, the ride creaks in the wind.

"Yeah," you exhale a shaky breath. Pulling away. "I'm gonna need that vodka" sitting down on the boat, you gesture towards the bottle on the floor. It wasn't even a far fall if he didn't catch you, but the thought of you getting hurt sounded alarms in his head.

Hobie snickers, he opens the bottle before he hands it to you, fingers touching yours for a split second. It's more than enough to warm his skin, not needing the alcohol to heat him up anymore. You take a sip whilst Hobie lounges to the seat in front of you, arm stretched on the back of it, long legs propped up next to your lap.

The moon casts him in a dark shadow, his newly pierced ears glinting in the moonlight, he looks ethereal this way, divine and out of reach. The lights whir, having a hard time lighting the old place.

You do the same to him with a smirk, legs right next to his jeans, taking a swig while your eyes stay to him. The warm liquid slides to your throat, warming you immediately.

You have no idea the effect you have on him. Hobie clenches his fists, breathing staggered, eyes flickering to your lips. It's not your intention though, you just wanted to show off that you can take your alcohol.

Hobie taps your thigh with his boot, clearing his throat before talking, "you're gonna drink all of it" He takes the bottle from your hand as you cough loudly. "That's what you get for hoarding all the vodka" chastising you, he leans to pat your back with a lot of effort on his part, almost folding himself in half.

"Fuck, that's– whew" your face all scrunched up, regretting your choices. Coughing again, your throat burns.

"You good, Gromit?" He asks with a laugh.

"Did you bring water with you?" Tears prick your eyes, sniffling.

"No, didn't think to" Hobie says apologetically, he winces when you let out another cough.

"You could've grabbed a bottle? I feel like my throat has razor blades in it" clearing your throat, you knead at your neck.

"Your fault, love. I didn't dare you" He takes a sip, taking your slight cough as a cautionary tale.

"Why'd you take us to this death trap anyway? Wait, did you plan this?" You look at him with a raised brow, realization hitting you.

"Nah, I told you the party was boring me to death" he lies, but you know him too well, noticing his tells. The slight bob of his adam's apple, eyes flicking to the side of your face for a split second, fingers itching at the back of his hand. You don't mention it or even tease him about it, intending to enjoy your time together.

"Yeah, going to jail for underage drinking and trespassing sounds better" you laugh, Hobie brings his feet to your lap, soles grazing your jacket. To his surprise, you don't protest. Legs parallel to each other, you play with the aglet of his boots.

"No one goes here except for teenagers wanting a place to snog" he regrets his words immediately, his ears feel like it's about to burst into flames.

You look at him with a growing smirk, with the alcohol coursing through you, it gives you liquid courage when you say the next words. "You planning on snogging me here, Hobs?"

Hobie almost spit takes at your question, he answers with the same bravado, shyness nonexistent as he feels his skin warm up from the alcohol. "If I'm gonna snog you, we would be in a better place than this rust bucket"

Instantly sobering up, you blink in surprise, chuckling nervously. Biting more than you can chew, your eyes try to avoid his lips.

Sitting in an awkward silence, Hobie takes another swig, you hug your torso from the biting cold. The tension is thick, his legs sit heavy on your lap. He notices these kinds of silences have increased these last few years, Hobie hopes it's not because you're pulling away from him or worse, him pushing you away with his growing affections.

You finally try to cut the tension, "Can we–" Hobie thought of the same, unintentionally cutting you off.

"I'm–shit. Sorry, go on" He really wants to hear what your next words will be, it could either cross the line between your friendship into something more. Hobie anticipates, hanging to every syllable you would utter.

"Can we go home? This place kinda gives me the creeps" He did not expect that, "the lights help but now some of them are flickering and it's like something's gonna come out" biting your lip, you look at Hobie directly.

The only reason you want to go is to get rid of the awkwardness, blaming the dark yet romantic atmosphere. You want to stay, you really do, but if the air stays like this between you, you'd rather go home. Save yourself the embarrassment of pining for your best friend. Guess Hobie isn't the only one lying tonight.

"Yeah, sure" He sits up, dejected, legs retreating back to him.

"Sorry, what was it you're gonna say?" Leaning your elbows on top of your thighs, you take the bottle from Hobie, getting his attention.

He sighs, you see a rare sight. He looks somewhat afraid. Why would Hobie be afraid though? It's just you.

You try to encourage him with a joke, "you feeling okay? You look constipated, is it the vodka?" He chuckles, you stand up, mirroring his small smile.

But that's the thing, it's you, a few years ago his little crush turned into puppy love, and that love turned into full blown yearning, longing for you to see him as something else other than your 'best mate' at first he thought it was just a phase, muddled with his teenage hormones, latching to the closest person he feels attracted to. Then it persisted, he realized that his deep affection for you was something else entirely other than some hormone induced crush.

It was safe to say Hobie hated puberty.

He bites the bullet, if he's gonna tell anyone it would be you. "I'm leaving school"

"Oh" dropping down from the gondola, you hide your frown. He's leaving, he's leaving you. Hands shaking at the thought, you mindlessly walk away, following the brightest thing in the carnival. "Why are you leaving?" Trying to hide the shakiness of your voice, you wring your hands together, taking another sip of the warm liquid.

Is it you? Did you cross the border too much? Is he sick of you? The cold doesn't help with your thoughts.

"I don't like school, you know that" Hobie watches your retreating form, he knew you wouldn't take it well but it still hurts when you turned your back on him. "Y/n" he calls out as you step on the carousel.

Turning around, his explanation calmed you down a smidge. You try to fix your expression. The bright lights of the carousel envelopes you, a halo forming around your body. You give him your hundred dollar smile.

"Okay, just don't forget me when you're famous" laughing dryly, Hobie joins you in the light, taking your shaking hands.

Knowing you for a long time, he reads you like an open book, looping his pinky with yours, Hobie looks at you straight on.

"I'm staying in the city, just not at school. 'm not leaving" you, he wanted to add but he's not brave enough to say the word.

Inhaling, you focus on the horses instead of his hold on you. "You should've led with that," you say with a tight lipped smile, extending your encouragement to him, you swallow your sadness. "I'm proud of you, if anyone's gonna make it out there it would be you" finally looking at him, gold bounces off his iris, honeyed flecks dancing in his eyes. "You can go on tour if you want to, you don't have to stay in the city" with me, the words echo in your mind.

Telling the absolute truth, your face is serious, hiding the ache. You will always be supportive of him even if it means leaving you in the process.

"Well we have to build our reputation first before goin' on tour," Hobie sways your intertwined hands. "Besides, my number one fan is here, who's gonna cheer us on?" He gives you his best smile, the same one that haunts your dreams.

Legs wobble from under you, leaning towards him, Hobie's eyes widen at your movement.

You embrace him, head laying on his broad shoulder. Mind reeling, you can't help but feel you're holding him back from doing greater things.

A sharp whistle pulls you away.

—

Hobie opens his eyes, back aching from the lumpy settee, his right arm practically numb. He's not usually a morning person, but with you sleeping comfortably in his arms, he wants to wake up earlier just to see this rare sight. Hobie smiles at how relaxed your face is, brows unfurrowed, mouth slightly parted and your skin glistening in the early morning sun. Your back to the couch, squeezed in between him and the settee, Hobie's arm wrapped around your torso, protecting you from the springs protruding from the cushions. Your Hands tucked to his side, fingers curled unconsciously on his shirt.

He doesn't care that his long legs dangle off the armrest, couch too small for his tall stature, or how there's a crick in his neck. Despite it all, Hobie hasn't slept this well in a long time. He's glad last night wasn't all a dream. Gently caressing your cheek with his pinky just to make sure you're actually real in his embrace.

You shift in your sleep, licking your dry lips, inhaling a gulp of air. It's like you're attuned with his senses, already knowing he's wide awake. You fake sleep, acting like you're deep in slumberland. Feeling his chest rise up and down, you can't help but curl your lips into a small smile when he covers his leg over yours, securing you in his hold.

Hobie knows you're awake though, his enhanced senses telling him the shift in your heartbeat and breathing. He's in a good mood so he intends to tease you this morning. Testing to see what your reaction will be in this new found position he has you in.

He tries to leave the couch, carefully taking his arm from under you, leg up, untangling from yours. You immediately protest, grasping his torso with your eyes closed. Pulling him back down to your side. Chuckling at your reaction, butt hitting the cushions with a thud, he slides back down to your side, going back to the same position. Your cheek pressed to his chest as Hobie kneads at the soft skin of your waist.

Still in your outfit, his fingers fiddle with a sunflower stitched to your cami. You lean further into him, arm over his torso, feeling his warmth through his shirt.

You're the first one to speak, sleep still lingering in your voice. "You talked in your sleep"

"And you drooled all over me but no one's keeping track" Hobie's morning voice sounds deeper, goosebumps appear on your skin when you feel the vibration from his chest.

"Hmm" you hum, content in his arms, savoring the precious moment. "I don't drool" cracking one eye open, you fight the sleep off. You rile him up just to hear the deep rumble of his voice.

"There's a wet patch on my sleeve that begs to differ" he says, nuzzling your hair. "What did I say?"

"Hm, you woke me up for a bit when you said clowns and my name. Sounds like you were having a really good dream about me" you take a peek at him through half lidded eyes. Hobie gently rubs the sleep off the corners, you practically vibrate at his touch.

"Well, you are a clown" he quips, you gasp dramatically, grabbing the hem of his shirt, balling it in your fist.

"What did you say? You punk?" Trying to sound as menacing as possible even though you're half asleep, you smile through the threat.

"I said you're gorgeous" his eyes flick to your lips for a second before Hobie gives you his best smile. You feel like a gem in his gaze, letting out a small 'thought so'. "For a clown" he says against your lips, chasing the soft plush of it.

"You–!" Pushing him off the sofa, he laughs all the way down, his butt landing on the floor, back on the foot of the sofa. His hands glued to your waist, almost bringing you down with him. You lay upside down with Hobie's hand on you, his face upturned, inches away from yours.

Pecking the tip of his nose, you don't care for morning breath, with Hobie, nothing embarasses you anymore. He feels the same, leaning up to change the course of your kiss to his waiting lips.

Giggling, you cup his jaw, neck straining to reach him in the upside down kiss. Hobie feels like he's dreaming again.

Before the kiss could go any further, you pull away, already missing his lips. "Can I go shower?"

"Sorry, I should've brushed first" he winces.

"It's not that, we literally made out last night with shawarma breath. I don't give a shit, Hobs" you chuckle, leaving a chaste kiss on his lips for good measure. He grins at your words, "I just really need to get out of these clothes and wash my face"

"Right, You just want to wear my clothes" Hobie flicks your forehead, "perv"

"You're the perv, dreaming about me with clowns and shit" laughing, you sit upright, nudging him with your socked foot.

"Yeah, it was bloody steamy" he riles you up again, it doesn't work this time though.

"Tell me later" walking to the bathroom, you spare him a sly glance over your shoulder.

When did you get so immune to his teasing? Hobie feels he needs to up his game.

—

Hobie scrapes off the egg sticking to the pan, now in his home clothes, a plain band shirt with the sleeves cut off and sweatpants hanging low on his hips. Hissing when hot oil flies towards his hand.

He feels you before he hears you, shutting the bedroom door behind you, the broken answering machine takes your attention from Hobie's toned arms.

Wiping your arms with the towel, you glare at the machine. "What are you planning with this thing?" Gesturing vaguely.

"What thing?" Taking the mugs out of the cabinet, he spares a look behind him. Maybe he shouldn't have. You look right at home, his jumper hugs your torso comfortably, pajama pants that he hasn't worn in a long time fits just right on your waist.

Hobie wants to kiss you as soon as possible. His senses are still a bit wonky, jumping slightly when the bread digs out of the toaster.

"Your machine" moving closer to him, feet padding on the wooden floors, you take the plate full of eggs, scrambled for you, sunny side up for him. "Thanks, Hobs"

"Ah, you forgot somethin'" you hum curiously, letting him turn you back around by your shoulder. Thinking that he might hand you the mugs of tea, instead he kisses your cheek, you squeak out, carefully balancing the plate in your wobbly hand. "There, what's up with the machine?" He goes back to making tea as if he didn't steal a kiss right under your nose. You don't seem to mind though.

"I think you should just throw it out"

"I can still fix it" He pours milk into your cup.

"Hobie, I know you can but that thing is bloody cursed" tone serious, you place the eggs on the kitchen island.

He guffaws at your comment, he can't believe your minds are so in sync with each other, Hobie sometimes feels like you're connected to him.

He still asks you even though he knows your answer, a ploy to keep hearing your voice. "Why do you think it's cursed?"

"Well, you bought it off an estate sale, it's probably haunted by the old owner. Second, it shocked you while you were installing the damn thing." Hands on your hips, you lean on the counter. Hobie snickers at your comments. "And lastly it has committed a crime against us"

Hobie laughs loudly, shaking the boat slightly as he doubles over in laughter. "What's the crime that my machine committed?" Mirroring your stance, he drapes the dish cloth over his shoulder.

You bite the inside of your cheek with how attractive he looks right now. "Sabotage" mumbling it out.

"Sabotage?" Hobie closes the distance, hands lovingly holding your shoulders. You click your tongue, moving his hand from your shoulder up to your jaw before you place your hands back to your hips again.

He tilts his head, thumb circling over to your cheek. "Cursed or not, the thing's expensive. I can still fix it"

"My parents have a spare one, I can nick it for you" biting your lip, you say the next words softly like you're still unsure. "Take it as a housewarming present from me, before I move in?"

Hobie's giddy smile melts your trepidation, leaning in, he stops a few centimeters from your lips. Closing your eyes in anticipation. Your brows furrowed when you don't feel his lips on yours. Cracking your eyes open, you see Hobie smirking mischievously. Huffing, you stick out your tongue in annoyance. Pushing him away with your palm on his face.

He chuckles, pinching your nose for a brief second before going back to making your tea. His houseboat has never felt more like home before, Hobie thinks you're the missing piece in making it so.

—

Hobie and you share a plate, standing hip to hip near the kitchen island, forks fighting for the last bit of egg. Soft music plays in the background from his old record player, the slow song a rare one in his large collection of vinyls.

"Since when?" He stops attacking you with his fork, moving the egg closer to your side of the plate, surrendering.

"Hmm? Since when what?" You ask, cutting the egg in half, giving the bigger cut to him.

He hums appreciatively, bringing the egg to his mouth. Suddenly feeling anxious at what he's gonna say.

Drinking your tea, you wait for him to continue.

"Since when did you start fancying me?" You almost choke, eyes widening at his question. Hobie never fails to surprise you.

You swallow your breakfast, "well," buying time, sipping your drink. "I don't know the day exactly. I think everything just clicked for me" answering, you avoid his gaze.

Hobie moves your chin so he could look you in the eyes. He didn't confess to you and make things awkward between you. Breaking the tension, he moves closer, leaning against the counter. Hand comfortably pressed on the small of your back. You bring him closer by his waist, hand staying there.

"So you just woke up one day and went 'I fancy my best mate?'" Fully joking, he raises a pierced brow.

You chortle, "No, I remember it being gradual. Like slowly getting past your ego," he rolls his eyes, you chuckle at his reaction. "your teasing and all the spikes." Giggling, he clutches his nonexistent pearls. "I dunno exactly when" shrugging your shoulders, you tell the truth. "But a rough approximate, probably between year eight or nine"

"You fuckin' telling me I could've been holding you like this since year nine?"

You guffaw loudly, "maybe not like this! We would've been too young!"

"A couple of years later then" Hobie matches your laugh, hugging you closer.

After a minute of comfortable silence, you continue to eat while still clinging to each other, Hobie pipes up. "Do you have someplace to be today?" He hopes for a 'no'

"Yeah, I have to go back to campus to submit my papers for graduation" biting a piece of your toast, noticing his lack of reply. "Or I can do that tomorrow." You see him perk up in your peripheral, "deadline isn't till next week anyway" slyly side eyeing him, a cheeky smile on your giddy face.

"Good" He acts disinterested. Hiding his smile behind his mug, but you know better.

You wait for a few seconds, smirk slowly spreading on your lips. "You've got something planned for us?"

Hobie chuckles, "Nah, just wanna stay home" he wipes the crumbs off your chin. "With you"

"Oohh I feel so special" leaning into his touch, you blink at him prettily.

"Gorgeous" he softly says, staring deep into your eyes.

"Yeah? Even with crumbs all over me?"

Without warning, He lifts you up by your thighs effortlessly. Laughter fills the modest boat, you cling to his neck, leaning down to kiss him. He tastes sweet because of the tea, you savor him, legs tightening around his waist. Humming into the kiss. His hands squeeze your upper thighs, still at a respectable distance.

Thanks to his new found senses, Hobie leads you back to the couch, a feat in itself without bumping into furniture while his eyes are closed. His back lands on the lumpy cushions, earning him a groan as he feels the friction between you. Kissing you deeper, fingers massaging the back of your neck.

You arch your back, Hobie lets out a deep sound from the back of his throat. Needing air, you pull away with a breathless smile.

"Fuck" His chest heaves up and down, half lidded eyes stare up at you.

Chuckling, satisfied at his reaction, you lean back down to pepper his jaw with kisses. Hobie laughs (which sounded more like a giggle to you) with every smack of your lips on his skin.

"You sound" kiss "so manly" kiss "right now"

"That so?" Surroundings blur as he flips you over quickly but carefully, a large hand cradling the back of your head so that you don't hit the armrest. Your back landing on the cushion, legs still wrapped around his waist. His arms cageing you, grinning down at your flustered face. His necklace swings over your face, you restrain yourself from grabbing it to pull him further down to you.

You gulp down on air, like butter on a hot pan, you melt under him. Hobie sees your bare fingers, having an idea. With love seeping out of his pores, he slips his favourite ring off his finger. You give him a curious stare, feeling loopy with all the affections.

"Hand" he instructs you with a goofy smile, fingers flexing towards you. Shaking your head, you play hard to get. He rolls his eyes, smiling staying put. "Please"

Giggling, you give him your left hand, your heart threatening to pump out of your chest as he slips the metal ring to your pointing finger. You bite your lip when the ring twirls around your finger, ring too big for it. He huffs, sparing you a playful glance. You shrug, biting your lip to tamp down your giddy laughter.

Hobie takes the ring out for a second before putting it on your middle finger, it fits perfectly around you. The metal arms of the spider curl around your finger, hugging it. The red gleam of its eyes makes it look alive.

You bring the hand closer to your face, fanning your face like a southern bell about to faint from the summer heat.

Hobie's face feels like it's about to set on fire, pulse drumming loudly against his skin. He laughs at your antics. Admiring his ring on you.

"I made you so soft for me" your eyes tender, saying it in a sing-song cadence, hand reaching up to cup his cheek. You feel how warm he is, his ring grants him reprieve, cooling down a tiny area of his skin.

"Not soft right now though" Hobie leans down with a grin. You know exactly what he meant.

Gasping out, "Hobie! You–" Hobie cuts you off by blowing raspberries on the soft plush of your neck.

—

Hobie drops you off in front of your dorm building, you're practically wearing his wardrobe, save for your own shoes. Leather jacket over his jumper, too long jeans that he folded on each leg so you don't trip over the denim. His ring shines in the late morning sun right on your middle finger, still giddy at the thought of you wearing it. Your heavy bag full of clothes slung over your shoulder.

Hobie sits on his bike, motor still running, his hands sit comfortably on your waist. You're slotted in between his legs, fingers fixing the stray threads on his leather vest that you've lovingly given to him.

You've (reluctantly) come back to the dorms to submit your graduation requirements, having the entire day to yourself (to your dismay) but it's a necessary evil so you could spend the entire day with him tomorrow.

"You sure you don't want me to pick you up tomorrow?" He loops his thumb over your (his) belt loop.

"Nope, I can meet you there. I need to drop by aunt Janet's for my last order and you've got that protest. I can go with you if I finish early though"

"Right, call me if you need a ride" Hobie doesn't want to pressure you or worse, make you feel stifled.

"Mm-hmm, it's just a roll of fabric. I've managed before" you act brave in front of him. Truth be told, you want him next to you the entire day tomorrow, but you don't want him to think you're being too clingy. You're gonna move in with him anyway.

"Then I'll help you move in" as if reading your mind, Hobie pipes up excitedly.

"Then you can help me move in" chuckling, you agree with him. "First proper date tomorrow, huh?"

Hobie snorts, "Don't think that's the first one ever. We've been on hundreds"

"Yeah, but this one would be the first proper one. You asked me this time" looking at him through your eyelashes you can't help but peck his cheek. "You've got a plan for us then?"

"Maybe" Hobie guides your face with his hand, moving you to his lips instead. "Hell, I'll even get you flowers if you want. Since it's the first proper one" he says against your kiss bitten lips.

"Looking forward to it then" kissing him goodbye, you embrace him tightly. "Oh!" Pulling away suddenly, he pouts his lips. "I almost forgot, here" you take something out of your bag, placing it in his hand.

He looks at the red and blue spider trapped inside the glass casing, "it's dead right?"

"Yeah, you squished it. I've been meaning to give it to you since you gave me one" showing your ringed finger, twirling the metal spider around.

"How romantic, a dead spider" He says deadpanned, side eyeing you.

"Fine, give it here. Peter will love it" reaching over to take it from Hobie, he moves it away from you.

"Nah, it's mine. You gave it to me first" clicking his tongue, eyes crinkling in the corners, Hobie pockets it with a ghost of a smile.

You shake your head with a loopy grin, pecking his lips one last time before leaving. "Drive carefully" eyes soft, leaving one last kiss for good measure.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow, love" He chases your lips, hesitantly pulling away.

—

You bump into your RA in the hallway, she looks at you from head to toe, clearly not in your own clothes.

"Fun night?" She asks with a knowing smirk.

"Very fun" you indulge her because of your good mood. She does a double take, not expecting you to actually answer her like that.

—

You sigh for the umpteenth time, closing the door to the admin's office. Still in Hobie's clothes, coming down from the high of being with him, you crave him more. Having some sort of withdrawal symptoms, feeling jittery and excited to see him again. Of course you wouldn't tell him that or he'll endlessly tease you about it.

Smiling like a mad woman, you walk past your old classroom.

"L/n!" Mrs. Williams calls out to you. Surprised she knows your last name or even remembers you. You peek around the corner, seeing her sitting down on her desk littered with stacks of papers and Manila envelopes.

"Good afternoon, professor" smiling politely, she gestures for you to come inside.

Truth be told, you were saving her for last on submitting your requirements, even though she was strict and (undeniably) terrifying, Mrs. Williams was an inspiration to you. Always prim and proper, her talent in designing is top tier. You learned a lot from her.

You stop right next to her desk, glancing at the various portfolios on her desk. Spotting yours in the forefront, you flick your eyes back to the brunette, hiding your sudden nervousness. Maybe you should've changed into something more fashionable before going back to campus. Hiding your hands inside Hobie's sleeves, you anxiously pick at your nail polish or what's left of it.

"Knock knock" someone suddenly knocks on the (already) open doors with enthusiasm. Turning around, you recognize the man as Mr. Riley from the fashion show, he holds two lattes in his hand.

He stands up straight the moment he spots you, "oh great timing"

"I assume you've met each other?" The woman genuinely smiles at Mr. Riley.

"Yes," answering, you don't miss their lingering looks towards one another as Mr. Riley gives her the latte.

"I was about to tell her about your proposition" Williams says through her paper cup.

Snapping out of it, Mr. Riley gives you his best smile. "Well, I've faxed my boss your portfolio and she absolutely loves it!" You beam at his words. "We would really love it for you to be part of the team after you graduate"

"That's amazing! I–I don't know what to say" you roam your eyes towards your professor for approval, she looks at you with a nod and small smile. "Thank you!" You laugh in bewilderment.

"Is that a yes?" Riley brings his hand for you to shake. "Of course we'll give you ample time to sort your papers for the move. Two months seems like the right timeline."

You were about to shake his hand to accept his offer but you stop halfway when he says the word 'move'. "I have to move? Where exactly?" Voice shaking, you drop your hand back to your side.

"L.A. in America" He says as if that's the closest place to move to. "You know, where our headquarters are?"

Mrs. Williams notices your knitted brows and slow blinks. "Ian, may I talk to my student for a minute" she looks up at him through her long lashes.

"Yeah– of course, I forgot your scones anyway. Be right back!" He walks away, shutting the door behind him.

Heart stuck in your throat, you look at your professor for guidance.

"Listen, out of the entire graduating class, only three were approved. One of them is you."

You release a shaky breath, lips tightening to a flat line, trying to stop your heaving. Your excitement turns into something indistinguishable, something that feels unwarranted, a stabbing sensation all over your skin.

Williams takes your portfolio in hand, flipping through it. "You see this?" She shows you a sketch of Hobie's outfit, his eyes seem to pierce through you. "This is the outfit, the only reason it didn't make it to the top three is because there wasn't enough of you in it."

You try to wrap your mind around her statement, ears focused on her words.

"I understand your…" she tries to find the right words. "...worry. But you must understand, not a lot of people get this opportunity. Don't let it pass you by"

You recognize those words, heart clenching at the different meaning behind it.

"Riley will only be here till next week, you have that time to decide. Please take my words into consideration, I want all my students to thrive."

You nod, murmuring a small 'thank you'. Walking away from the room, you slip away to an empty broom closet. Mind racing, it all stops to him, his smiling face appears in your mind's eye, voice echoing amidst the rushing and chaos of your thoughts.

Silent tears slide down your cheeks. You don't even know why you're crying. Already knowing what to do, wiping your eyes, tears sticking on your lashes, you already know, Right?

A/N: Thank you for reading! I can't believe we're almost at the end 😭 let me know your thoughts ❤️

289 notes · View notes

gyuv1nist · 2 years ago

Text

you belong with me

sung hanbin x reader

you sat on the bleachers watching the football team practice for the big game which was coming up. the sun beat down, casting long shadows across the field as the team ran through exhausting drills. “it’s not like you to sit here and watch practice.” you looked to your left and saw your good friend, matthew, take a seat next to you.

“it’s not like we have any exams to be revising for.” you scoffed, crossing your arms.

“you’re here to watch him aren’t you?” he asked, shifting his focus onto you.

him?

sung hanbin is the kind of person who seems to have it all - looks, charm, intelligence, and talent. with a winning smile and a confident aura, he turns heads wherever he goes. but beneath the surface, there's so much more to him than the title of captain of the football team or school president. he's always there for his friends and loved ones, offering support and encouragement when they need it most.

“was it obvious?” the question came through a laugh as you leaned back and finally take a look at your best friend.

“is the window not enough for you?” he joked, earning a light whack on the back of his nape.

hanbin was your neighbour. you found out when the moving truck was a bit too loud one sunday morning, but you were quick to receive an apology from the boy with a box of homemade pastries. although you were yearning to go back to your bed, your parents invited him in and made you guys talk. you were quick to learn that he was going to start in your school and major in the same subject as you.

after a long talk, you returned to your room and sat at your desk, unable to get his smile out of your head. it lights up his entire face, filling the room with warmth and joy. it's the kind of smile that's contagious, making you feel happy and at ease. you just met the boy and you’re already falling for him?

you pushed yourself towards the blinds, wanting to let some sunshine in. but you find yourself smiling at what you find once you open them. the handsome boy was smiling, holding up a sheet of paper at his window.

[do u wanna walk to class together on monday?]

you fought back a smile as you shook your head at his action and rummaged around for a notepad and pen.

[gimme one good reason why i should]

[you don’t have to ofc! but i feel like it would be nice!]

and from then on, the two of you hit it off. everything about him made you want him to be around you more and more. sure, it was the little things, like holding the door open or making sure you were walking on the side furthest from the cars. but also he learnt your coffee order and brought you it weekly, and always brought a spare hoodie on the cooler days since you weren’t the best at dressing according to the weather.

at ungodly hours of the morning, you found yourself sitting at your window (in a growing pile of paper) giggling at the boy who was across from you. it got to the point where you went to drink from your body spray.

[those aren’t supposed to be consumed silly]

[anything can be if you try hard enough]

you would never forget the way he would laugh at your weird remarks. the way his eyes would light up before he leant back and chuckled, one hand on his chest.

at last, you were finally happy to wake up at 8:30 sharp every morning. until you slowly realise you weren’t the only person whose order was in hanbin’s list. and slowly, those after-class visits to the arcade, art gallery or even just the walks to and from class were becoming slim to none. by the time you got into bed, hanbin hadn’t left a message for you on his window.

the days when it went from bad to horrendous were still clear in your mind and to stop seeing those horrible days you decided to not show up at all. maybe it got to the point where you forgot you still had company other than hanbin that would stay by your side. after a series of knocking, you mustered up the strength to go to the door and find matthew standing there, eyebrows all furrowed, with kamden and jay standing right behind him. (i miss the english trio fr)

“why are you here?”

“we came to make sure you were okay.”

you were anything but okay and they could see it from the way you look defeated, not even able to lie your way out of it. you felt like it shouldn’t have even affected you that much, even going as far as to thinking that you should’ve seen it coming. why was it so easy to fall in love with him?

the point at which it got even worse was when you all decided to go to the friendly football game after your respective classes. it was the day you saw him with someone else.

“i heard she asked him out for prom,” you said, the words barely coming out as a whisper. the sight made you sick to your stomach but there wasn’t really anything you could do- she was perfect. popular, rich, the centre of the cheerleading squad and there wasn’t a moment where a hair was out of place.

“apparently he didn’t accept her, something about it not feeling right?.” kamden muttered, watching as the cheerleader walked away from hanbin towards the sidelines.

which makes you remember the day when you finally did talk to hanbin again.

it was a boring, gloomy day.

the rain aimlessly bounced off your window whilst you were listening to music. hoping that the minimal light would at least make you feel the slightest bit better, you opened the blinds and were shocked to see hanbin sitting on his bed. his eyes trailed up and you felt your heartstrings pull as you fail to see the soft glimmer which would shine through his pupils.

[you ok? :(]

your friends would kill you if they knew how fast you grabbed your notepad and marker pen.

[just tired of drama]

[sorry :(]

his lips pressed into a line as he shrugged, barely being able to muster up a smile. the words on your notepad echoed in your head again and again as you stared at them, your heart beating at an unhealthily fast pace.

by the time you mustered up the courage and held it up, his blinds were shut. you could only blame yourself now.

after all those times when you would sit at the back of the lecture hall talking about his favorite songs, the way you would sit and let him ramble on about his dreams, the fact that you knew exactly what to say to make him laugh when he was about to cry- you at least expected hanbin to acknowledge the fact that there was a bond between the both of you with overwhelming chemistry.

you were dreaming about the day when he would wake up and find that you were what he was looking for.

but now you were convinced it was all your fault. maybe if you had confessed earlier, you wouldn’t have lost him and just maybe, that he would belong with you.

it’s now the night of prom and after rejecting a promposal or two, you’re left in your room with your stuffed animals and netflix rolling in the background. you keep your blinds open, praying that hanbin would show up for at least a few moments.

and those prayers were answered.

[are you coming tonight?]

[no :/ staying in ]

[wish you were]

you smile and roll your eyes jokingly, standing up to get a hoodie to bunch up in during this long night. whilst scanning the wardrobe for something nice and warm, your eyes lay on the dress which you had planned on wearing to prom (in the event that hanbin did ask you out).

you turn your head and your vision focuses on the piece of paper which lays alone on the desk before your eyes land back on the dress.

and you had never gotten ready so fast before. you usually hated gut feelings, but there was something that was telling you to suck it up and just tell hanbin your true feelings. your brain was done with the frustrating questions which you constantly ponder on.

just why can’t he see that you are the one who understands him? the one who’s been here all along?

hands desperately grasp the piece of paper as you run down the stairs, a rush of adrenaline now surging through your body. you slam the door shut and run towards the road, managing to flag down a taxi and scurrying inside, wondering how the taxi driver even understood the clump of words that came out of your mouth.

as you step out you curse the adrenaline for stopping now, the moment you had to walk in with eyes all over you, the moment which could end up in total humiliation. you push past sweaty bodies, looking for the one who had stolen your heart.

“hey oh my god! i thought you weren’t coming!” you mutter a phrase of relief as you saw jay standing there, eyes wide with shock. “you look gorgeous!”

you smile at your friend before remembering the sole reason why you showed up in the first place. “hi jay! you look amazing but i’m in a massive rush right now i’ll explain everything after but please tell me you know where hanbin is.” once again, your words almost come out all fast and breathy, eyes scanning the whole room.

the corner of his lips rises as his eyes dart straight past your head, with your body following suit. “i think you’ll find your man standing right there.”

and at the moment, everything but you and the figure standing in front of you drowns out. when he finally notices you, he slowly makes his way over, his eyes locked on yours.

the intensity of his gaze was strong but delicate as if he was seeing you for the first time and taking in every detail. as he draws closer, you can smell the sweet cologne he's wearing, the scent filling your senses and making you feel dizzy with desire.

“you came?”

you want to express how you feel- to tell him how much he means to you, shit you feel like screaming it, but the words simply won't come. as hanbin’s eyes glaze over with concern you can feel the weight of your unspoken thoughts becoming heavier and heavier. so instead you reach into your purse and pull out the folded note which would put all your emotions into one phrase perfectly.

i love you

if you could fall into a pit of darkness now, you would.

on the other hand, hanbin can feel the warmth spreading through his chest, a wave of euphoria. he wants to tell you how he feels, to hold you in his arms and never let go, how he’s so stupid to take this long to realise you were the one for him, but he's afraid that he'll mess everything up. so he reaches into his blazer pocket, pulls out a piece of paper and opens it.

i love you

he knows that he's found the missing piece of his heart. he takes your hand, pulling you close to him, and he can feel the beat of your heart matching his own. in that moment, hanbin knows that he's found something special, something worth fighting for. and as he looks into your eyes, he realizes that he's in love with you, completely and irrevocably.

the familiar sight of hanbin’s eyes filling with nothing but love had never been so beautiful.

and before you know it- he leans in, his heart pounding in his chest, and presses his lips to yours. it's a soft, gentle kiss, filled with all the emotions hanbin had been holding back for so long. and as he pulls away, he knows that he's found something truly special - a love that will last a lifetime.

“i should be mad at you for how long it took you to see that-

“i belong with you? yeah i know- and i’m really sorry. but let me make it up to you.”

and for the first time (but most definitely not the last) you watch the sunrise from the same window, finally where the both of you belong.

—————————————————————————————

a/n : i am truly sorry for the lack of updates :( it’s exam szn for me so i’m constantly drowning in revision but i finally managed to finish this hanbin fic!! OBVIOUSLY its based off of you belong with me (taylor’s version ofc) and i tried my best to use the song as plot!!

i hope you enjoy this, mwah i love u all

- minah!

#zerobaseone #zerobaseonefics #zb1 x reader #zb1 scenarios #boys planet imagines #boys planet scenarios #boys planet 999 #boys planet #zb1 #sung hanbin imagines #sung hanbin x reader #sung hanbin fluff

343 notes · View notes

the-wales-5 · 11 months ago

Text

"Crazy for this girl" (Chapter 3)

The party of which Fergus was speaking at a rugby match had been organised on a Saturday evening. Prince William preferred to stay at St Salvator's Hall writing some assignments and already attempting to revise stuff before December. He wanted to stay as disciplined as possible. Another reason for his absence was clear: a need to stay alone after days overflowing with irritation towards almost all the students.

A white strap blouse, denim skirt, slightly seen makeup, and natural hair. Although it was not her intent, “beautiful Kate” captivated everyone again.

A group of students was standing in the queue to get “Venice and antiquity: the Venetian sense of the past” by Patricia Fortini Brown. Catherine was getting quite impatient as people were moving very slowly in the line. Normally, it would not affect her, but at that moment, she was taking a look at the watch every few seconds.

“I hope this one isn’t going to be as bad as the one about Greece”

Among the maze of quiet words and voices, that one brought her attention for some reason. Prince William just walked past her with a book in his hand “Your advice paid off, thanks”.

“I am glad to see you with the book" she said and smiled a little.

“How was the party? There's no one to tell me details apart from Fergus from whom getting information is quite difficult if a gathering involves alcohol”

Catherine tried not to laugh “Well, it was an average night, full of drinks and dance. Nothing too good, honestly”

“I assumed that. Uhm, I noticed a book in your bag recently”

“A stolen one?” Catherine teased and caused him to chuckle

“No, not this time. One about Chile. It was my gap year destination”

“One of my gap year destinations as well. Florence first, then Chile”

“We could talk about our experiences”

Catherine looked at the people in front of her, then at her watch once more “I do not think it is possible now..”

“Kate! I’ve got two copies, one for you!” Laura Warshaeur approached her at the same moment

“Oh, thank you! That’s so helpful”

“Go. He’s waiting outside for at least ten minutes”.

“Thanks. Oh, and see you tomorrow for our classes, Steve” she said, walking off.

The person waiting for Catherine was Rupert Finch. The 4th-year law student and her boyfriend.

“You like her, don’t you?” Laura said when she noticed that William was looking at their friend

“She’s helped me recently, that’s all”

“Where have you been?” Rupert asked his girlfriend right after she hugged him

“In the library, long queue”

“I hope this is the truth, Katie” he said and kissed her on the cheek

“Why wouldn’t it be true?” She rolled her eyes, but then Rupert put his hand around her, and they went to a restaurant nearby where Catherine got a job the week before.

***

November was shaping up to be a tiring time for everyone owing to next month's Martinmas semester exams. Aware of it William wanted to organise a party to help everyone relax but also to make up for the few parties he had missed. He revealed his plans to a circle of friends he had gotten over the last few weeks while they were sitting in the dining hall.

“Will it be a costume one?!” Laura asked

“No, but I was thinking of a themed one, and the most popular thing these days is Harry Potter as I reckon so might be it” William said

“Sounds great, it’s a pity I am unable to be in two places simultaneously” Catherine sighed

“Why?” her friend Olivia Bleasdale asked.

“People from Rupert’s course are organising something on the same day, and he already confirmed our attendance. It is all planned weeks in advance. I'm sorry”

“A lawyer gathering full of snobbism instead of a Harry Potter themed one, that sounds fun” Fergus laughed sarcastically. Kate took a sip of orange juice “This is not my fault that he planned something, right?” She shrugged off.

Laura looked at William at the same moment as she asked “Is your girlfriend coming?”.

The prince had been meeting Carley Massy-Birch, and their relationship was well-known amongst his friends.

“She hasn't given me a direct reply yet, but I think she'll be there” he replied “Anyway, would 7 pm be the right time for a start?”

“Yes, but only if you want us to be drunk as hell by 9pm, Wills. Make it 8 pm at least” Fergus replied

“That way you’ll be drunk as hell by 10 pm” Catherine said, wanting to have revenge on him for his recent remarks about her boyfriend. Everyone burst into laughter.

“Stop making him feel embarrassed. Boyd knows the reality. He'll be drunk yet before the party starts” Olivia said, and that caused yet another wave of laughs.

“You can help me to write down the list of attendees” William said then

“But this is not a royal gathering, Wales”

The prince laughed and rolled his eyes in a playful way. “I just want to make sure that everyone who attends knows to address me as Steve. For security reasons. Stop teasing me and give me a pen instead”

“I haven't got one. They'll address you as Mr ‘writing names down without our consent’? Be careful. We may all boycott your social event before it even begins” Fergus joked again.

“I was about to write yours right now, but it looks like you are the first to be crossed out instead” William chuckled, got hit on the elbow from his friend, and then finally noted down several names on the paper with Catherine’s pen.

“Are you busy or going somewhere in particular now?” William asked her as soon as the rest of their friends left the table.

Middleton looked at the phone and noticed no response from Rupert to a text message that was sent by her yet in the morning.

“I thought that we could finally talk about the Raleigh expedition. For some reason, we had no time for that before”

“Some reason being endless hours of lectures” Catherine remarked, and William looked down, awaiting her final reply, assuming that it would be a negative one.

“Yes, sure. We can talk about it now” Catherine replied within seconds as she switched her phone off at the same time. “Share your experience first. You were there before me, right?” She smiled a little.

As it turned out, the Chile gap year was just the first of many topics they touched upon in a conversation that lasted for almost two hours until they decided to return to their rooms.

“It was so nice to talk and to think about something more than our classes, Kate”

“That was nice for me too," she said as she stared at William, who was slowly going upstairs to his room.

“I hope we'll continue this discussion soon” William said and vanished from Middleton's view. He smiled with his eyes closed, thinking how those few hours were so far one of the best times at St Andrews for him. “I need to give her that pen back finally” William thought when he noticed it in his pocket and slowly turned back. Right at that same time, Catherine saw Rupert on the other side of the hall. She was about to ask why he had been ignoring her text messages and felt ready to argue when she realised that he hid a huge bouquet of red roses behind himself and apologised for his behaviour. Catherine smiled and slowly kissed him on the lips. William had been staring at the scene between the two of them from a distance until Middleton closed her door.

“Do we really have to attend that party?” Kate asked her boyfriend while they were on a walk moments after William saw them.

“You had no objection to that before. Why do you ask now?” Rupert frowned a little

“Can’t you call it off and for once go somewhere with me?”

“I am often going out with you, Katie”

“I want to have fun yet before exams, not listen to boring conversations between you and other guys wearing a tie even though they're just 24!” she replied, a little bit louder

“Katie, stay calm, please. Now, all you show is that you are simply over-dramatic. Don't you remember? Raisin Weekend and foam fight had taken place not so long ago, and it was fun, wasn't it?”

“Indeed. The thing is, I just want you to think it all over, Rupert” she said, getting lost in her thoughts. She then simply carried on walking and looking at the early evening's sky from time to time.

William was overthinking all those small moments such as Middleton helping him with writing a painting interpretation, letting him compare his most important notes with hers, fun they had during Raisin Weekend and now also that simple conversation they had about Chile, sports, and nature. It all replayed in his mind for hours. Being in a relationship and having thoughts about someone else was a thing he thought he’d never experience.

The moment he woke up the next morning and noticed Catherine’s pen on the bedside table, he felt uncontrollable and inexplicable frustration. He avoided having breakfast with his friends, then checked his schedule and found out that he’ll have eight hours of classes and seminars that day. “It can not get any worse than this” he thought, feeling that tiredness mixed with confusion won’t let him focus on that stuff. Despite that, he went on with his morning routine. Right before closing the door, he took a blue pen from the table. “No smiles or conversations” he planned his next meeting with Catherine Middleton meticulously “I'd just give her the pen, and everything will be normal again”.

Due to oversleep, Catherine did not attend the first class that day. Rupert wanted her to take a day off and go on a trip with him. She rejected that offer, but her boyfriend insisted on helping her reach the university building.

Right there, Kate noticed William who just went outside during a break between classes.

“Is that actually him?” Finch asked “I thought he’d be hiding in his room when free”

“He’s not as antisocial as you are and your boys from The Poker Team, it seems” Catherine teased her boyfriend, laughing

“It was not a funny joke, Katie,” he said.

Right at the same moment, Carley approached William. “You seem cross about something, Willy” she said “Look at me”

“We need to talk about something. I am organising a party in a few days, and my question is if you are going to attend. It would be amazing if you do, you know?”

“Isn't it obvious?” Carley said as she put her hands around his neck “I thought you would invite me first” she said and almost kissed him, but William pulled himself away and began to search for a notebook.

“What’s the matter?” she asked

“I’m just searching for something” he murmured, and Catherine's blue pen fell off onto the ground at the same moment.

“This perhaps?” Carley picked it up, feeling perplexed “This isn't yours. I gave you a more expensive one three weeks ago. Don’t tell me you’ve lost it somewhere and replaced it with a cheap one from a shop”

“No. It belongs to Kate” William almost snatched it from his girlfriend's hand

“Kate? The beautiful one?” She sneered

“We're on the same course. I was writing a list of people attending, so I had to borrow a pen from her and..” . At that same moment, he noticed Catherine and called her name. “I forgot to give it to you yesterday”

Middleton said with a tiny smile, “Oh, I've got another pen. You could keep it” and walked off. William turned his eyes towards Carley, who said “You seemed nervous. Why is that?”

“It is not true. I am simply trying to focus on things needed for today's classes. It'll be a long day for me, but we can meet with one another in the early evening” he said and kissed Carley on the lips.

He escaped the class an hour earlier than planned in the schedule. Fergus followed him and asked him a question that the prince did not actually register in his mind.

“Steve! Are you still here?” Boyd waved in front of the prince's face to get his attention.

“Yes? What is your problem?”

“It is not really mine, but yours as you seemed to be disoriented by half of the day and left earlier than you should, Steve”

“I do not think it matters to someone apart from you” He pulled out his phone

“I am just trying to tell you that your professor might have an interest in that, you know”

William dismissed these words. Carley got a text message from her boyfriend asking her to come to his room almost at the same moment. She was suspicious but soon excited to have intimate time with him, too, and her assumptions turned out to be right.

In the afternoon, Catherine finally could talk about her observations on William with Olivia while they both were at the restaurant before Middleton's shift “Don’t you think that there’s something wrong with him?”

“Why do you think so?”

“He seemed unsettled today, as if he didn’t want to be there”

“You know how this stuff works, right? It’s all boring sometimes, and not every day is full of enjoyment, right? He just had it tough today, I guess. There's nothing wrong with that”.

Catherine chuckled a little bit “Yes, but to be completely honest with you, I grew confused when he was ignoring everything, even when we were supposed to work on a sketch interpretation along with two other students”

“And I assume that you are just overthinking”

“He ruined this presentation with his apathy!”

“Oh, stop it. I repeat that you're overthinking. You know what he went through”

“Yes, and I know how it affects a person. I am studying psychology too, remember? Am I over-dramatic? Rupert told me exactly the same thing earlier” she sighed

“Is it a unique day when I agree with Finch for the first time ever? Unbelievable! “.

They both laughed, and Catherine carried on her work.

“Why are you acting so weird?” was Carley’s first question when she met with William for the third time in the evening.

“What do you mean?” He sighed

“This. Exactly this. Your annoyance at each word I say. Our meetings are now sporadic, full of tension”

“We're just a step away from Martinmas exams”

“This is not a clever excuse”

“This is not an excuse at all, Carley. This is our reality right now”

“And because of that reality, we are separated most of the time!”

“Are we? We've met one another three times today alone”

“It comes to me as a surprise. Last week, we barely met one another because you closed yourself in your room to concentrate on your studies. Isn't it outrageous that you prefer to spend time alone rather than with your girlfriend?

“Perhaps, but I swear that there is no other reason than my studies and the necessary planning that goes into our relationship”

“And hence there's no stability either!”

“I am truly sorry for ignoring you as you put it, but I promise that we'll figure it out together.

“How? When?”

“Tomorrow. We can arrange our meetings for the next two weeks”

“Why tomorrow? Why not today?”

“I have some other plans for now. A list to that party that I planned to be in two weeks is still open yet, by the way”

“Oh, is that an official invitation for me?”

“You may treat it as one” William said quickly and put his lips on Carley's in a passionate kiss.

***

Chapter 4

#royal fanfiction #crazy for this girl #chapter 3 #st andrews university themed stories #prince william #catherine middleton #2000s #st andrews university #fife #st andrews #scotland #kate x william #♡#stories #text post #tags

11 notes · View notes

issybettyx · 2 years ago

Text

Hero Tommy, Villains SBI AU

Tldr; i was on tiktok earlier and heard a sound and suddenly this au was born (i’m skipping revision for my exams that start tomorrow to write this) (dream is also in this au purely because i needed a manipulative character, and c!dream is basically just that)

—

“Here to lose again, Theseus?” Siren taunts, jumping over the flash of light the hero shot in his direction. Theseus laughs, grinning as he continues to fire, letting his eyes glow red as he does so. “You’ll never defeat us no matter how hard you try.”

“You’re all bitches,” Tommy spits, and he grins wider when Siren barks out an unamused laugh, letting his energy guide him as Siren phases through the floor, appearing behind him a moment later. “What’s the point of The SBI anyways?”

Curiosity was evil, and Tommy was starving from a lack of information. His whole life, all he’d ever wanted was answers. Maybe asking Siren the point of his existence wouldn’t tell him who his parents were or why he was forced into the Hero Guild at the meek age of 7, but knowledge helped him in the field.

“The Guild knows our reasons, why don’t you?” Siren laughed back, attempting to send a phantom punch through Theseus’ skull, the kid dodging just in time. Dream had told him it was good he was young, it made him quick and flexible, made it easier to dodge and harder to catch. Despite his clear confusion, and yet apathy towards the entire situation, Siren continues. “We had something taken from us, and the Hero Guild have been hiding it for years despite how much they insist they don’t have it.”

“We’re civil, we wouldn’t steal, we’re not fuckin’ robbers or anything.” Tommy spits back, somehow managing to land a kick on Siren’s chest, sending a bright red stream of energy onto the exact place he’d managed to hit and watching as the man fell to the ground, clutching at his chest with a hiss. “We just stop the annoying shits who wreak havoc on our country.”

“You tell your Dream buddy that we demand what’s ours back,” Siren tells him, and Theseus feels something cold press hard at his back, shivers taking over all of his limbs until he’s struggling to stand. He continued to stay stood, despite how much his body begs to fall.

Dream wouldn’t like it if he fell.

He couldn’t disappoint Dream.

“And what if they don’t?” He yells back, making sure his voice echoed on the cold walls of the alleyway they were currently in. It wasn’t the best place for a fight, but it was better than having cameras catch his every move. Whenever that happened, him and Dream would spend the entirety of the next day pointing out and correcting the flaws of his technique. “What if they can’t give it back?”

“I’m sure, if they’re lives are on the line, they will be more than willing to give it back.”

Siren disappeared through the floor before he could say anything else, leaving Theseus alone once more.

—

“Dream,” Tommy starts, taking a deep breath as the man hums, scrolling on his phone, “I want to find my family.”

The man pauses, fingers going still on his screen as he stares directly ahead, and Tommy already regrets saying anything.

“We’ve tried, Tommy, you know this.”

“You tried when I was seven.” Tommy insisted despite the fear thrumming through his veins, biting his lip when bright green eyes stare back at him, a dull frown sitting on his face. “We didn’t even do a DNA test, that could find them so quickly, I’m sure-“

“Go to training kiddo.” Dream told him, and he wanted to protest, wanted to yell and tell him he was actually stupid to think they’d done all they could; but it was Dream he was talking to, he couldn’t just go against him, so he obliged, picking up his suit and leaving the room.

Before he opened the door, he made sure to pick up his backpack, throwing his suit into it before leaving, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Tommy arrived at the centre soon enough. It was a place he’d found on a solo patrol one night, a centre where you could test your DNA and find your family history and things similar to it. Maybe he’d gone a few months ago and gave them a swab of his DNA. Maybe he was only looking for permission so he could show someone he’d found his family, but it seems he would have to keep this to himself as well.

“Tommy Innit?” The desk lady called, and he immediately stood up, taking the brown folder from her with a quiet thanks before immediately leaving, breaking open the flap that sealed it shut.

After taking a deep breath, a short session of rethinking his life choices and swallowing the lump in his throat, Tommy lifted the white papers out, looking over the front.

‘Tommy Innit.

DOB: April 9th 2004’

This was it.

He lifted the front paper out, slipping it behind the others before he looked over it.

‘Heritage: 75% L’Manberg, 20% Essempee’

He took out the next paper.

And the next.

Before finally, the words ‘Family Tree’ met his gaze, and he had never read something faster, the widest smile on his face.

—

Tommy knocked on the door - after a good few minutes of wanting to turn back from the nerves fluttering in his stomach - immediately taking a step away from it.

“Techno get the door!” A voice shouted from the inside, and Tommy knew he had the right place.

The form had said his closest family were as follows; Phil Craft, his father, aged 36. His mother, Kristin Craft, whose age wasn’t specified? It was strange but he brushed past it. And, apparently, he had two brothers, and they were twins.

Technoblade Craft and Wilbur Craft.

“I’m doing homework! Make Wil get it!”

“Wil’s not in- you know what.”

Footsteps followed, and Tommy took a shaky breath, squeezing his eyes shut as he tapped his fingers on his leg, trying to steady his breathing as scraping metal from a door lock filled his ears. The door was opened, and a blonde man stood on the other side, blue eyes blinking at Tommy who could only just manage to look back at him.

“Can I help you?” He asked slowly, squinting his eyes at Tommy who took another deep breath, muttering random things under his breath as Phil continued to stare. “Did the government send you? Oh god-“

“No- I- no, I- oh god how do I put this?” Tommy tried, despite having recited this conversation in his head thousands of times he still found himself lost for words. No one had told him meeting his father for the first time would be so… scary. Then again, no one really knew he was there. “I’m an orphan.”

This only seemed to confuse the other more.

“Right?”

“And I- I never knew who my family were, so I kinda snuck off to this centre in town?” Tommy tried, messing with his hands as he refused to look at the other. After a moment, he put his shaking hands into his bag and pulled out the page of his family tree, holding it out to the man who took it with slight hesitance.

Tommy didn’t watch him as his eyes went wide, mouth slightly open as he stared at it, disbelief taking over.

“Um, apparently your my dad? And I wanted to meet you my entire life, and I wasn’t sure-“

Arms wrapped around him, cutting his sentence off to look at Phil, the man’s arms holding him so tight Tommy wondered if he would ever let go. His head was pushed into Tommy’s shoulder, and he could feel his sleeve getting wet.

Was he crying?

“Oh Tommy.” Phil said shakily, and Tommy sighed, returning the hug as he squeezed his eyes shut. “I thought I’d never see you again- I- oh god, I’m so sorry.”

Some part of him said to forgive him. But he didn’t exactly know what had happened in the first place, so he only held him tighter, holding down his own cries as he heard Phil, feeling as he shook in his hold.

“Dad who is it?” A deep voice called, likely Techno because apparently Wilbur wasn’t there, as footsteps grew louder, Phil sniffing before moving back, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Only then did Tommy see the other man, pink hair tied back into a messy bun, a mug in his hand with glasses over his eyes. His clothes were a little questionable, a fancy frilled shirt tucked into black trousers. The man looked at Phil, a raised eyebrow with a silent question Tommy wasn’t sure of, but Phil nodded and a hand was thrown over his mouth before he placed the mug down. “Tommy?”

“I- yeah?” Tommy returned, and Techno was walking over before he could do anything, the man pulling his head onto his chest and keeping a steady on the back of his head, and Tommy leaned into it, letting out a breath as he tried to ignore the shivering of the other. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, kid.” Techno told him, letting go to crouch in front of him, holding his hand with a small smile. It didn’t look right on the man’s face, but Tommy returned it anyways, wiping whatever tears were forming in his eyes, “None of this was your fault.”

“I’ve messaged Wil, he’s on his way back.” Phil said, albeit a bit rushed, before turning to Tommy, a fond smile on his face. “You can eat dinner with us? If you’d like?”

Did he? Yes, he wanted to, a million times yes. But Dream would murder him if he was home late. Not to even mention the fact the man didn’t seem to keen on the idea of him finding his family, for whatever reason.

“I would love to.” Tommy replied nonetheless, letting them usher him into the house. It was a lovely space, in Tommy’s opinion. The wallpaper was a sage green, and wooden shelves lined one wall. A mirror was in the hallway, a cabinet beneath it with a vase on it, no flowers to make it prettier. They led him to the kitchen, and Techno flicked on the kettle again, offering Tommy a drink to which he declined.

“So, Tommy,” Phil started, and Tommy looked at him, taking in his warm smile and the way tension had left his shoulders since he’d arrived, “Tell us about yourself.”

Well he’d been a hero since he was seven, and that was basically his entire life.

“I like cows.” Is what he said, because it was true, he did, “And the colour red. It’s epic.”

“It is epic,” Techno replied to that, pouring Phil a mug of coffee and passing it to him, “Red is the coolest colour. Well, apart from pink.”

“Pink is a very based favourite colour.” Tommy returned, and Techno seemed to straightening up a little at that as that same smile returned from before.

“How’ve you been doing?” Phil asked, a little more cautious than the first time. “Have you been living with someone or?”

“Well,” Tommy started, wondering how in hells name to go about this. He had a feeling if he said he didn’t want to say, he would he allowed to keep it to himself. But this was his dad, asking about where he’d been basically his entire life, so maybe he could just… not name names. “My guardian found me when I was a baby, and he gave me a roof over my head for basically my entire life. He can be a bit…” what was the word? “Strange,” Good enough, “Sometimes, but he basically raised me, so I made do.”

“Who is he?” Techno asked, Phil hitting his arm lightly as he shrugged, “I think I deserve to know who my little brother has been staying with all this time.” There was a look in Phil’s eyes that was a kind of warning, and if Tommy didn’t know better he would say it said they knew something he didn’t.

“I have a question, actually.” Tommy said after a moment of quiet conversation between the other two, bringing the attention back to him. Attention was always something he’d hated, it was always the media shoving cameras into his masked face, following his movements and guessing his next move. He sunk a little under the watchful eyes, biting his lip as he brought his knees to his chest. “Where have you been?”

His real question was clear. Why was I orphaned? Did you choose to? Why did I have to be raised by a young hero and roped into a job so early that I’ve always hated?

“We-“ Phil started, but Techno cut him off.

“You were taken in your sleep.” Techno said bluntly, sipping on his coffee as if admitting Tommy had been kidnapped was the calmest topic of conversation. “We’ve been trying to track you down since, but they were very good at covering their tracks.”

“We knew the only way for you to get back was for you to do it on your own accord,” Phil admitted, picking at his nails as Tommy looked at the floor, frowning as he tried to process it all. “But we tried to get you back nonetheless, they were just… very good at hiding you.”

The door opened after Phil finished speaking, and Tommy turned as fast footsteps filled the house, and soon enough a brown haired man was stood in the doorway, circular glasses over his brown eyes. His style was a lot more simplistic than Techno’s; a simple white shirt with a yellow jumper over the top, black trousers leading down the black boots, and a brown trench coat was over his shoulders, clearly forgotten to be taken off in his rush.

His eyes were wide as he stared at him, eyes scanning him as if he was worried the boy would disappear and he had to remember every small detail. It was a strange thing, and yet Tommy wasn’t too against that kind of attention, waiting for someone to say something.

“Am I dreaming? This is a dream right?” Wilbur asked, taking a careful step closer as Tommy shook his head, watching the man look down at his hands, muttering numbers under his breath before sucking in a quick breath, staring at Tommy before bounding towards him, tugging him into a warm hug.

It wasn’t as tight as Phil’s, whose hug gave him a strange sense of security. It wasn’t as… whatever Techno’s was, that let him know he was there and everything was okay.

It was warm, and it felt safe, and he knew he could pull away if he tried. It was what finally made him cry, clinging back as he sobbed, hoping the man didn’t care if his jumper got too wet, feeling the man hold him tighter as he rested his chin on his head.

“You’re safe now, Tommy.” He whispered, sincerity soaking his words as Tommy only cried harder, knowing his brother would keep him safe. “We’re here, and we’re not going anywhere.”

“But I have to go.” Tommy cried back, shaking his head as Wilbur hushed him, stroking his hands through his hair. With all the emotion in him, Tommy couldn’t find it in him to lie to his family any longer. In Wilbur’s arms, he knew he never wanted to leave, so they needed the truth if they could even try to do anything to fix things. “Dream will be mad if I don’t go back to the tower, he- he’ll-“

“It’s alright, take a deep breath, take your time.” Wilbur muttered back, feeling the kid’s chest rise and fall as he cried.

“Dream has given me everything, and if I leave- he didn’t want me to leave.”

Tommy didn’t see as Phil gripped his coffee tighter, something dangerous flickering in his eyes as he listened to Tommy say the hero’s name. Tommy didn’t see Techno bite his lip, a million thoughts running through his head as he already began planning the man’s demise.

Wilbur only held him tighter.

“He gave me everything, he made me who I am, he- I need to leave.”

“You don’t need to leave, Toms, your safe here.” Wilbur assured, and Tommy shook his head again.

“Can I ask you a question Tommy?” Techno asked carefully, the blonde sniffing as he turned, Wilbur letting go for a moment so he could look at Techno, before slinging his arms over Tommy’s shoulders, resting his chin on Tommy’s head once more. “What did Dream do for you? Who did he make you?”

Could he say that?

Probably, it’s not like they would or could do anything if they knew he was a hero.

“Theseus.” He sniffed back, wiping his eyes as Wilbur froze. Tommy immediately regretted it, everything he’d said coming back to him as he struggled for words, seeing Techno’s wide eyes and Phil’s hand gripping tighter on his mug. “I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I-“

“Dream made a child a hero?” Techno scowled, and Tommy immediately got defensive.

“I’m not a child.”

“You’re 14.”

“And? I’m not a kid, I can hold my own.” Tommy insisted, standing straighter and forcing Wilbur’s head up.

Phil’s frown physically hurt him, and he found himself looking at the floor to avoid his firey gaze.

“You shouldn’t have to, though.” Phil said quietly, and Tommy had to squeeze his eyes shut as he took a deep breath.

“And you don’t have to, not anymore.” Wilbur added, squeezing Tommy’s shoulders.

“Yeah,” Techno laughed back, but Tommy could hear the malice in it, “If Dream even gets within one mile of you he won’t see the light of day again.”

“That sounds quite evil of you Technoblade,” Tommy told him, finding himself smiling as the man grinned back, “It’s kind of awesome.”

“What can I say? I am awesome.”

Tommy laughed, leaning into Wilbur as the man held him closer, Techno sipping his coffee again as Phil typed something into his phone - Tommy had a feeling he wasn’t casually messaging a colleague, but he didn’t voice those thoughts.

He didn’t voice the thoughts because he was finally safe; he wasn’t sure how he knew it, but he knew he could relax even if it wouldn’t be for long.

With his family, in a home that felt right, without bright green eyes constantly staring holes into his head, he felt safe.

#dream smp #mcytblr #tommyinnit #sbi #sleepy bois inc #technoblade #wilbur soot #philza #hero au

62 notes · View notes

natsubeatsrock · 10 months ago

Text

The Lucy Paradox

I'm going to get murdered for posting this on Tumblr, huh?

Somehow, I've never talked about this. I've made this joke in private. However, it's worth discussing in this format. Think of it as a celebration of International Women's Day.

Incidentally, Lucy isn't the one who I named this paradox after. The original name of this was the Sakura Paradox. For the record, I mean Sakura Haruno from Naruto.

It feels like a given that Sakura is a weak character. The way some fans talk about her, you'd think she was the worst character in the series. The closest example I can think of is Yamcha, whom no one takes as a threat past the first arc of Dragon Ball. After the big-time skip, he's treated as the joke of the group, especially by fans.

Here's the problem. Sakura's very strong. That's true in a literal sense, but she has more ability than fans give her credit for. It's not a stretch to say she's the strongest civilian in the series universe.

"Yeah, that's true in the second half. But what about in part 1?"

Do you mean the part where she has a better grip on chakra control than her teammates? Or the part where she's shown to ace the first part of the Chunin Exam without having to cheat? What about later in the exam when she breaks out two separate genjutsu? Yeah, I'm not hearing it.

Why do people say she's weak? Simple, she'd been dwarfed in power by monsters. It's not controversial to say Sakura is the worst member of Team 7, with the potential exception of Sai, if you even count him. It's not a close race between her, Sasuke, and Boruto's dad. She's a distant third. The only debate is how badly she's lapped.

If this sounds like I'm insulting her, it's not. Those two might be the strongest characters in the universe, with no qualifiers or exceptions. From what I've heard about Boruto, they're still doing crazy things years after their time in the spotlight should be over.

I call this the Lucy Paradox because fandom might not be fully aware of how incredible Lucy is. She's on the level of magic to use two gold Celestial Spirit Keys at the same time. It's impressive if someone's able to use two keys. She can mix and match between any of the ten she has.

Remember that she's the only wizard capable of Celestial Star Dress. At its introduction, it was just being able to take the abilities of her spirits. In the sequel, it's also the ability to combine the powers of two different spirits.

Let's take that for granted for a second. Lucy comes up with strategies that are helpful to her friends. And it's not just helping Natsu's fights. She's the one who recognized the true meaning behind Daybreak. She's the one who saw through the Eclipse Gate in two different timelines. She rewrote the entirety of the Book of E.N.D. after reading it once. Most importantly, she's the one who revises Anna's plan to make it possible to defeat Acnologia.

I say all that, but she's the weakest human member of the Strongest Team. She's never been on Natsu or Gray's level. Erza's not an S-Class mage for nothing, even if you want to argue that Natsu's overtaken her. While Wendy started weak, she's surpassed Lucy in the last arcs of the main series. I'm not cruel enough to say that Carla is even close to better than her. However, if your only meaningful competition is the Exceeds, that's not great.

Though, let's back up and think about that last paragraph. Lucy is the weakest member of the Strongest Team, no doubt. She's not the weakest member of Fairy Tail. Let's ignore the no-named scrubs who show up for a couple of lines every four volumes Lucy clears. If Lucy joined Shadow Gear, she might be the team's ace. She was able to hold her own with Cana as her partner. (Speaking of which, Tenrou Island is another situation where her planning came in the clutch, and I can't believe I didn't talk about it earlier.) She's more powerful than the Strauss kids not named Mirajane. I'd even go so far as to say she could make a solid member of the Thunder God Tribe.

This is probably where someone else would make this about feminism and how shonen writers aren't good at writing women. (Except for the rare female writers.) I get this for Kishimoto whose writing of women is indefensible. Akira Toriyama (R.I.P.), who influenced much of the genre as we've seen it, isn't much better with how he handles his women.

But Mashima?

I know the fanservice can be way too much at times. But, as I mentioned years ago, his women are better written than fans often give him credit for. Lucy loses to two women on her team. Some of the best story arcs in Fairy Tail revolve around characters like Lucy, Cana, and Erza. I'd put Erza's character up against almost any other female character in a similar narrative role in the same genre. I don't care that she punched that meteor that one time. She's still a better character than a lot of them.

No, this issue is more the fault of fans and their pesky expectations. They see characters who aren't the strongest and assume they're weak. Fans do this despite the advanced strength of other characters and the narrative role of the characters.

I wouldn't say that we have a feminist problem. I'd say we don't recognize the strength of femininity.

I'm just going to come out and say it. Women are great because they're not men, and vice versa. I'm in favor of getting rid of some of the restrictive gender roles culture places on both genders. That shouldn't come at the expense of making women more like men.

"Doesn't that mean that we can't have women who fight and have active roles in media, similar to typically male characters?"

You know what? That might be the most eloquent I've made this voice sound.

My answer is simple. Why can't we have both?

Why can't we have our Rukia and our Orihime? Why can't we have our Tifa and our Aeris? (Or is it Aerith?) Why can't we have our Lucy and our Erza?

Now, don't get it twisted. I love seeing physically strong women in fiction. She-Hulk is one of my favorite heroes in Marvel comics. (I hate that I have to specify comics.) Jupiter is my favorite of the Sailor Guardians. Homura is my favorite member of the EZ Crew. However, a strong character is a good character, and vice versa.

The best thing about the traditional female characters is how they manage their lack of physical strength. They use their wit and charms to their advantage instead of brute force. Men rely on power and speed. Women focus on flexibility and accuracy.

I like to think of it in sports terms. If traditional masculine traits are more offensive, feminine traits are considered more defensive. Both are necessary for teams to succeed. Some sports require people to switch between both roles. However, players usually excel at one of the two.

"What about sports like fencing and the martial arts?"

You need to switch between offense and defense quicker than other sports. However, is it good if a fencer only parries attacks and never thrusts? Is being able to throw punches without blocking a great boxing strategy?

What makes characters compelling has nothing to do with either masculine or feminine traits. (At least, it shouldn't.) What matters are their virtues and determination. It may manifest itself differently in male and female characters. However, it's not as if women can't show strength without sending people through walls. It's not as if men can't show tenderness without caring for children.

The most essential trait for characters might be weakness. How do characters make up for their failings? How do they overcome the conflicts they face? These things draw us to good characters, no matter their gender.

Let's compare two fictional women. Sophie Hatter from Howl's Moving Castle and Captain Marvel.

Carol Danvers is an unfortunate case. She started as a character with solid writing in the comics as a side character. Her solo series as Ms. Marvel in the Civil War era is pretty good. However, since becoming the new Captain Marvel, she's been defined by her power and little else. Despite Marvel's best efforts, fans have not latched onto her new persona.

The MCU didn't help. Captain Marvel was one of the weakest movies in Phase 3. Even at the time, it was clear that its success was attached to the Avengers' success. Few people praised the movie on its own merits. Even fewer had meaningful defenses for its many critics.

Captain Marvel was a physically strong character with no weaknesses. She was so strong that the government she was working for had to limit her powers. However, Carol wasn't the best character the MCU has put out. She didn't endear herself to the audience, had no real connections to the main cast outside of Fury, and became a textbook example of a strong female character without the character part of the equation. Ironically, the best movie to handle her was the one where she barely showed up.

Then there's The Marvels.

It's unfair to say that the movie only flopped because of Captain Marvel's character. That movie's failure has much more to do with the current state of Disney and Marvel Studios. However, part of the plot's failings is because of Carol's lack of weaknesses. They had to find a way to nerf her and chose to tie her to the other characters. They had to find a way to show her connections to the universe and married her off-screen to a South Korean actor on a planet where everyone communicates through singing. No wonder it bombed the same year Guardians of the Galaxy did well.

Sophie Hatter (it took me an embarrassingly long time to realize that was her last name) is the protagonist of Howl's Moving Castle, one of Hayao Miyazaki's most beloved works and one of my favorite anime. Miyazaki is no stranger to writing strong women. While I could pick either of the women from Princess Mononoke, Sophie is for the point I want to make.

She is by no means strong. She has no magic and has to rely on Howl and Calcifer many times throughout the story for protection. In a cast of magical individuals, she might be one of the weakest members of the cast.

However, she is far from a weak character. Even at her most insecure, she shows great inner strength and determination. She's determined to find a way to get back to her younger self. She doesn't shrink at the task of cleaning Howl's house. Not to mention, she becomes the heart and soul of the castle. (No pun intended.) It makes sense that she gets younger as she becomes more assured in herself. Ironically, she proves to be braver than Howl. He gains strength and courage from her.

Sophie's strength doesn't come from her ability to use magic or how many soldiers she can knock out. Her strength is more of an inner strength. It's an unshakeable will to achieve what is necessary. That causes her to push past her insecurity and grow throughout the movie. It's no wonder that so many people love her and the movie.

In Conclusion:

If you want to make a strong female character, that's a fine goal. What matters is that you focus more on the "character" than the "strong."

#tfw you diss toriyama's writing in a post #only to hear that he died #i hate it here

9 notes · View notes