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ghostlychief · 2 years ago

Text

Ivy

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader

wc: 2.3k+

warnings: mentions of being cheated on; angst; minimal drinking; hurt/comfort; also sorry for any typos/grammar mistakes!!

Summary: Sometimes, old wounds don’t heal properly, even when you think they do. Past insecurities come to light when you see a woman try her best to flirt with you boyfriend, Simon. You can’t help it when insecurities of the past seep into your mind, clouding your judgement.

A/N: OK so this was a request from @cheezitwh0re but i accidentally deleted my original post answering your request (I’M SO UPSET😭😭😭). Anyways, the request asked for a fic about Simon finding out that you were cheated on in a past relationship after you become uncomfortable with him speaking to a woman.

Also, in your request, it sounded like this was something you’ve been through before, I’m so sorry that happened to you, and hope you’re doing alright <3

I hope you enjoy and hope that I did your request justice!

- Lee <3

You really pride yourself in taking the steps to heal from your last relationship; you do. You went to a therapist to talk about the problems that were present in that relationship, and talked through all the trust issues you still held within you. It took a long couple of years to thoroughly work through all your shit, but you did it, and you came out the other side a new person, with a new perspective on relationships. In other words, you were ready to get back out there; date. A scary word for someone who lost their faith in a past lover.

So, by the time you and Simon started dating, you thought you had all your shit figured out, and that nothing from your past relationship would seep into this one, marking it with at stain. Little did you know that your past trauma was still present, although much more diminished than before; a seedling of some sorts just waiting for the right atmosphere to take root and grow.

You and Simon have been dating for a little over nine months now. While you weren’t on taskforce 141, you did work at the same base where the unit trained and stayed, when not assigned to a mission. You were a technical analyst, and you crossed paths with Simon every once in a while. Although you guys never really spoke to one another, you would always capture his eyes with yours, mystified by the man behind the mask.

There was also a part of you that was just physically attracted to him. No one can blame you either, he’s 6’4, massive, and is built like a Greek god. So really, all you needed to do was get to know him a bit better, to see if your personalities worked well together.

You knew a little bit about him before you ever actually talked to the man; only because you were assigned on some missions with 141, only you did not go out into the field, and instead, worked at the base, behind your computer.

You knew he was a lieutenant, had a deep voice, and kept to himself. That was about it. It’s not like the man shared much about himself during meetings, debriefs, or team bonding time. It’s not actually team building time- something you came to learn after your first “session.” No, it was really a time for the team to get a bunch of alcohol and drink together. It was during these “team bonding sessions” that you figured this was your best bet at breaking down Simon’s walls.

Listen, you have respect for boundaries, so of course you weren’t going to try and bother him too much. You were just curious, that’s all. Plus, you had formed quite the crush, and you couldn’t help the feeling of your heart pounding in your chest whenever you saw him, or even when someone mentioned his name.

You’re also not the only woman on the base whose attention has been directed at Ghost, and definitely not the only one with a crush. Does that bother you? Just a little, but you really had no claim over him anyways, so how mad can you really be?

You did have an advantage though, seeing that you consistently got assigned to task 141, and therefore, were invited to their drinking shenanigans.

So, when the next team bonding session rolled around, you had a plan and were ready to set it in motion.

Basically, your plan was to get a little tipsy to work up the courage to go over and talk to Ghost, like officially. You don’t even know if he knows your name, or who you are.

The night was off to a good start- Soap invited you to take a couple of shots with him and Gaz, something you immediately accepted. You cheered to another end of a successful week and downed your shots. You talked with them for a bit, catching up on nominal things, but you enjoyed the chatter.

Though, the whole time, you were distracted; the silhouette of a certain 6’4 man in your periphery.

You were itching to go over to him at this point, but you didn’t want to be rude.

Soap must have picked up on your fidgety nature, because before you knew what was happening, he was calling Ghost over, asking him to take a shot with the three of you.

Well damn.

You couldn’t escape this, not without seeming weird or like you were avoiding him or something.

You hear Ghost walk over; he’s standing next to you now and you can smell his cologne. He smells like fresh rainfall and cedar-wood.

“What are we toasting to, Johnny?” You each have your shot in your hand now.

Soap thinks for a second, “Let’s toast to our new technical analyst, Y/n. Always a pleasure working with you, lass.” He gives you a wink then everyone cheers, “To y/n!”

After you all take your shot, Soap and Gaz run off to who knows where, leaving you and Ghost alone. This might have been the first time you guys were alone with each other, and the silence was deafening.

But before you could say anything, Ghost beat you to it, “I don’t think we ever formally met. I’m Ghost, and I’m assuming you’re Y/n.” He sticks out his hand towards you, and in that moment, you liked to think that he was also smiling at you under his balaclava.

You smile up at him, grasping his hand with yours. “You assumed correctly. Nice to meet you too.”

He nods his head, then releases your hand. You liked the way his hand fit with yours.

Much to your surprise, you two spent the whole night talking and drinking, and by the end of the night you found yourself a new friend.

After that night, it was more common to find you and Ghost chatting, sometimes before meetings, or after debriefs. Over the next few months, you grew closer to the Lieutenant, and eventually you started dating. Something that you never thought would actually happen. But you were happy, excited to be in a new relationship, especially with Simon.

Although he was quiet and seemed to have a thousand walls surrounding him, you came to learn that he was actually really sweet and gentle. Nothing you would have ever suspected. Sure, you guys had your little spats here and there. You guys were still working on your communication. You, trying to give Simon space when he needed it, and Simon, not to immediately shut down when there was a problem.

Things were going well, and before you knew it, nine months flew by.

Did you get some glares throughout the base when it was known that you and Simon were a thing? Possibly. You tried not to let them get to you. He was with you, he loved you. Nothing else mattered, or should matter.

Before you could realize what was happening, old habits from your past relationship started to seep through your behaviors, thoughts, and perceptions of you and Simon’s relationship. The trauma of the past had taken root, quietly and without you knowing, and its vines started to grow within you, threatening to consume you completely.

It was too late when it all came to a head at one of the team’s nights out. The vines grew thick and threatened to choke you before you even know what was happening.

You all were gathered and occupying space in an abandoned warehouse on base that is no longer in use, drinks in hand. You were sitting next to Ghost, his hand on your thigh, every once in awhile his hand would give you a reassuring squeeze. It was his way of letting you know that he was still there, present, with you.

You emptied your drink, so you got up to pour yourself another. While at the table which held all the assortments of alcohol and chasers, you ran into Price. He started talking to you, so of course you stayed and you ended up talking to him for about 10 minutes.

When you turn around to make your way back over to Ghost, you notice that your seat has been taken, by a woman who you vaguely recognize. You really only recall her because she’s one of them who have a not-so-subtle affixation on Ghost. And her liking to your boyfriend did not waver nor disappear when you started dating him. No, if anything it was even more strong, and she tried everything she could to get his attention. She even occasionally makes digs at you in passing. Something you’ve come to ignore since all she’s looking for is a reaction and no way in hell were you going to give her one, no matter how deep her words cut.

Your blood boiled at the sight of them talking. She was turned towards him, with a big smile on her face and you could tell she was flirting, at least trying to. Ghost was still facing forward, not really paying much attention to her, and when his eyes caught you walking back over, his posture immediately straightened and his eyes lit up; almost as if in relief.

You were blinded by anger and hurt, so none of Ghost’s mannerisms clued you in to the fact that he wasn’t enjoying the conversation with the woman at all. No, it blew completely past you.

When you finally approach them, you’re standing in front of Ghost.

“Oh, good. Y/n, I was just talking to Camila here; she works in supply chain.” Ghost gestures towards apparently Camila.

“I don’t think we’ve officially met, I’m Y/n.” You try to keep your voice level, but this proves challenging.

“Oh, I’ve seen you around.” You can’t help but hear the bite in her voice as she addresses you, and her sinister smile says it all.

At this point you’ve had enough. Who is she to be talking to you like this? “Well, I think I’m going to head off to bed, I have an early start tomorrow.”

You see Ghost turn his head towards you, confusion laced in his eyes.

“Tomorrow’s Saturday though?” Camila’s annoying voice once again permeates the air, taunting you.

You try not to roll your eyes, and quite frankly you’re on the verge of tears. The combination of the long week, mixed in with all the doubts that have been swarming your head about you, and your relationship becoming overwhelming.

You decide to just ignore her, and turn towards your boyfriend. Placing a hand on his shoulder, you voice, “I’m gonna head up, ok?” You give him a kiss on the forehead and you hope that he doesn’t catch the tears that’s been collecting in your waterline.

You turn around and head back to your room, trying to forget that Camila is still sitting with your boyfriend. You don’t turn back when you hear her chair scrap on the floor, indicating she moved closer to him.

You didn’t expect for Simon to get back until much later, so you’re surprised when only 15 minutes have passed since you’ve been back in your room, and you hear him knocking on the door.

“Hey, it’s me. Open up.”

You’ve been crying, so you hastily wipe your tears, but its to no avail, your eyes are red and puffy and you know he’s going to see right through you.

You trudge over to the door and open it.

Simon enters, and he walks past you, hands on his hips.

“Do you want to tell me what happened back there?”

“What do you mean?” You’re being stubborn, you know. But it’s taking everything in you to not start yelling and crying even though you know he did nothing wrong.

“C’mon, Y/n. Don’t be like this, I know you’re upset and have been crying. Talk to me.” He turns around and although worry coats his face, faint traces of annoyance start to show.

“There’s nothing to talk about. It seems like you were having a great conversation back there, sorry to interrupt.”

He lets out a sigh. “That’s what this is about? Camila?”

You burst, “Of course it is! Do you think I’m stupid? Half the women on the base have a crush on you or want to fuck you. I have to put up with glares everywhere I go, and, with women fawning over my boyfriend. Do you know how exhausting that is?

And how do I not know you’re entertaining them?”

Now he scoffs, “Wow, you think that little of me, huh? Why don’t you trust me? I have done nothing to lose your faith in me.”

You look up at him to find his lips turned down, eyes hooded, and you know you fucked up, letting your insecurities from the past blind you from what was right in front of you.

It’s your turn to sigh, and you make your way over to your bed, and sit down, head in your hands.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just- I was cheated on -multiple times- in my last relationship and I guess the wounds from that haven’t completely healed, even though I thought they did. I even saw a therapist and worked through everything, well, tried to, I guess.”

The bed dips, and you feel Simon wrap a strong arm around your shoulders, tugging you into his side.

He leaves a kiss on your forehead, “Well shit, Y/n. I wish you would have told me that sooner. I’m sorry you went through that in your past relationship, but we can work through this together, alright? You don’t have to try and deal with this on your own.

“We’re a team after all.” His arm squeezes you, smushing you into him even further.

You sniffle, “We are?”

He brings his other hand up to cup your jaw, gently turning your head so you can look at him properly. “Of course, sweetheart.”

“I love you, ok?” He gives you another reassuring squeeze.

You hum, “I love you too.”

His thumb rubs under your eyes, wiping away any stray tears, and in that moment, you feel the suffocating vines retract, leaving you the chance to breathe clearly for the first time in what felt like long time.

Hope you enjoyed!

masterlist

#simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley fanfic #simon ghost riley fanfic #mw2 ghost fanfic #mw2 ghost fic #simon ghost riley fic #simon riley fic #simon riley hurt comfort #simon riley angst #simon ghost riley hurt comofrt #simon ghost riley angst #mw2 ghost imagine #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley imagine

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infictionalwonderland · 3 years ago

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Can you write the twilight characters with a shy gf headcannon please

of course! the reader is still going to be perfectly badass however, i hate the assumption that shy people cannot be badass.

warnings : swearing, insecurity, mentions of blood & vampirism etc, anxiety, overthinking, fem reader

characters included : emmett, rosalie, jasper, alice, carlisle <3

emmett —

so, emmett is just a naturally loud person who has no problem with being obnoxious and borderline annoying to some

but you’re a collected, quiet person who’s movements and actions are all thought out thoroughly in fear of judgment

and weirdly your relationship just works

he’s quieter when your around ( in public ) he knows how much you hate attention and the last thing he wants is for you to be uncomfortable

you’re comfortable around emmett, coming out of your shell and joining in on his loud laughter, joking, just fun

you both bring out sides to each other no one else knew existed prior to your relationship

he’s also, despite popular belief, quite observant: well, when it comes to you.

somethings wrong? bear hugs and loving kisses all around

you’re not feeling up for something? don’t worry about it, plans r already cancelled

very affectionate 🤍

if you don’t like pda that’s fine but he jus needs to be close to you at all times

yes, he’s clingy, if you haven’t already noticed

doesn’t force you to meet new people, knowing how your anxiety spikes heavily

he becomes your sort of therapist weirdly enough— though he’s far from professional

all in all, he just wants to make sure your happy and comfortable

you’re his precious girl <33

rosalie 🧎‍♀️ —

her >>>>>>

will glare at anyone who dares look at you a little too long

has and will threaten people who make you feel embarrassed for your anxious and shy behaviour

is so so patient with you <3

she’ll wait as long as you need her to for you to open up, you’re all she cares about.

absolutely adores you

you being her favourite person >

the ‘i hate everyone but you’ trope

she’s so soft with you 😩

reassuring hand squeezes when she sees you fidgeting anxiously

coming from a shy person myself, i admittedly stutter a lot 😒.. and she’ll never got annoyed at your stutter

in fact she’ll love it, it’s just another part of you and what’s not to love about you

you’re perfect to her

you two r so fucking cute omd

will get teased by her siblings about going soft

and she, evidently, could not care less

the most understanding gf <3

jasper —

AWWWWW

you and him >>

the most superior couple tbh

despite your anxious behaviour, you can calm him down with just your presence

a smile from you and suddenly the blood lust isn’t as strong anymore

so understanding!!

doesn’t push anything, just stays with you and holds you when you need it

he’ll wait for you to open up, as well, will not push for anything you don’t feel prepared to give

communication is key in your relationship

probably the healthiest couple

you ever feel insecure, he’s there with kisses and passionate reassurances

literal speeches about how fucking beautiful you are and how he doesn’t understand how you don’t realise it

is always there for you

finds how you can go from a bright, bubbly person to a blushing bumbling mess absolutely adorable

tho if you’re sincerely embarrassed bout something yk my man will step in

oh yeah, he’s hella protective<3

hands down best bf ever

alice —

my love😩😩

alice is actually surprisingly protective— anyone’s being rude or even slightly patronising, she’ll step in with a glare on her STUNNING face

actual sunshine who lights up your life

you’re more laidback around her, and it makes everyone happy to see you confident when she’s around

definitely helps you work on your confidence

is determined to build it up

not in a bad way! she just wants to see you confident in yourself and happy with who you are, able to speak your mind

loves everything about you

reassures you all the time with kisses all over your face!

her life’s mission is to make you smile

mentally counts how many times she’s made you smile in a day, and whatever made you smile, she’ll repeat it all to see your smile again

finds your shyness endearing.. unless you’re being shy and meek cuz someone embarrassed you, then we’ve got problems

your protector<3

not that you need it, you’re a bundle of badass-ery under your shy disposition

carlisle —

he’s always making sure that you’re okay

constant check ins, you can’t blame the man, he gets worried for you

unlike the reaction most people have towards your personality, your timid disposition actually drew him in

it was refreshing to meet someone who wasn’t arrogant and unapologetic

will forever reassure you you’re more than enough and that he’s proud of you

never gets tired of seeing you blush

genuinely his favourite sight

he doesn’t pressure you into opening up, and that’s something you’re really grateful for

absolutely and undoubtedly in love with everything about you

hugs and kisses constantly

he’s not too big on pda, but definitely hand holding <33

most heartwarming couple honestly.

#twilight #jasper hale #rosalie hale #emmett cullen #carlisle cullen #alice cullen #jasper hale imagine #rosalie hale imagine #emmett cullen imagine #carlisle cullen imagine #alice cullen imagine #jasper hale x reader #rosalie x fem reader #alice cullen x reader #emmett cullen x reader #carlisle cullen x reader

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atomicpoetrymusic-blog · 2 years ago

Text

Ok, I have been really getting into the School for Good and Evil (SGE) recently, and I have to share my thoughts on why I think it is a bad adaptation.

I had never even heard of SGE before a few weeks ago, after seeing the trailer for the film. I thought it looked interesting, and I like several of the actors involved with the project, so I thought I'd give it a watch. I quite enjoyed it, even if I thought it was a bit clunky in places.

I then went on to listen to the audiobooks for the first 3 books. Needless to say I was quite surprised by how many differences there were between the film and the books.

While I don't mind so much about the aesthetic changes - such as Agatha not being so 'ugly' (I'll come back to this point later), Tedros's hair, or Anadil not being albino - I feel like this is indicative of something that I feel modern moviemakers have an issue with handling when it comes to adaptations, especially from books: in books, EVERYTHING is based in description, and description matters.

While Tedros's hair is something I can and will look over (I thoroughly enjoyed the actor's performance, and hair is the least of my concerns right now), Agatha and Anadil's appearances are slightly more concerning to me.

I know it can't be easy to find an actor who is simultaneously good for the role acting-wise, and pale enough to at least pass as albino with hair and makeup (preferably actually albino, but needs must), but in terms of this particular character, I was actually quite confused between the film and book versions. Having seen the film first, Anadil's description in the book is basically the complete opposite to the actor, both looks and character-wise (nothing against the actor, I think she did brilliantly with what she was given), and was quite jarring to me - I can't imagine what it must have been like for long-term book fans who had an image of her built up over years.

However, Agatha is a whole other problem. Anyone who follows me should already know that I love Sofia Wylie, and I think she is a wonderful actor, but I just think she is too conventionally attractive to be Agatha. Don't get me wrong, Agatha is beautiful, as is Sofia, but half the point of Agatha in the books is that she sees herself as ugly, and has incredibly low self esteem, to the point where she tries to get Tedros to fall in love with Sophie MULTIPLE times throughout the 3 books I've read, simply because she is insecure in how she is perceived by others, and because she thinks Sophie is pretty, and that being pretty matters. She learns over the course of the story that being conventionally attractive doesn't matter, so much as who you are as a person. One of my favourite books of all time, Roald Dahl's 'The Twits', sums this idea up beautifully:

"If a person has ugly thoughts, it begins to show on the face. And when that person has ugly thoughts every day, every week, every year, the face gets uglier and uglier until it gets so ugly you can hardly bear to look at it. A person who has good thoughts cannot ever be ugly. You can have a wonky nose and a crooked mouth and a double chin and stick-out teeth, but if you have good thoughts they will shine out of your face like sunbeams and you will always look lovely."

As someone who is not conventionally attractive, and also have low self esteem, I feel kind of hollow watching the film now I've read (listened to) the books. Especially because the film cut the scene where Agatha is granted a wish by Professor Dovey to look beautiful, and was treated differently on her way to find a mirror, only to discover Dovey didn't change her appearance at all, it was all down to how she felt within herself. Losing that element of self-perceived ugliness, only to be proven wrong not by how she looks but how she felt, hurts me in a way I can't describe. And I'm in my twenties, I hate to think what that sort of thing would do to a teenager, with my same issues with self-image.

Another issue I have with film!Agatha is her costuming - in the book, she goes out of her way to dress poorly, despite being forced to wear a pink dress. In the film, Agatha has flowers in her hair, nicely done makeup, fancy jewellery, and all her dresses suit her. It makes her entrance to the Evers ball less impressive (whereas the equivalent scene in the book makes a whole deal out of her choosing to dress nicely - Tedros doesn't even recognise her at first). In fact, I think it would have worked even better in the film if they chose to have Agatha dress poorly, as it would make it more obvious to the audience why such an obviously pretty girl would be treated so badly by her better-dressed classmates. In the book, Agatha is also not conventionally attractive, but Sofia Wylie is. The filmmakers should have acknowledged the difference between the two, and used Sofia's beauty to their advantage.

Another reason I think the film is not a great adaptation is because of Sophie. Sophia Anne Caruso does a fantastic job in the role, but that's not the issue - Sophie is just too sympathetic.

In the books, she is vain, shallow, and selfish, constantly putting down others (Agatha especially), will do anything to get what she wants, and thinks that to be Good, all she has to do is be pretty. In the film, she is genuine friends with Agatha from the start (rather than befriending her as a 'good deed'), has a mean-spirited step-mother (who in the books is actually quite nice, Sophie just hates her), and is pushed into doing evil things by others such as Lesso and Rafal, rather than being and becoming evil by herself. It takes away her agency as a character, to do and say and think for herself.

The worst part about this, for me, however, is that I could feel that Sophie was too sympathetic in the film even before I read the books. Her actions were less character-driven, and more plot-driven, and it showed. Her montage of dressing in flashy, stylish clothing while also acting rude and seductive felt really out of place for the Sophie the film had been writing for up to that point. Then I read the books, and it made so much more sense - not only that, but Sophie was actually still putting up a 'sweeter that sugar' façade at that point in the book, trying to get Tedros to fall in love with her.

It's what made her redemption in 'The Last Ever After' that much better - because it came from within her. She was a flawed, wonderfully written character, who at the end of the day just wanted to be loved, but made all the wrong decisions in order to get to that love. But that's why she could never find it - because she was acting selfishly. Agatha found her True Love in Tedros, not because she wanted to (actually they both hated each other initially), but because they wanted to become better people for each other, and were both selfless in their wants - Tedros wants to be a good king FOR his people, and Agatha wants to be a good queen FOR Tedros, so that he can be a good king FOR his people.

With Sophie losing the nastier, EVILLER character traits she had in the books, it cheapens the win that Good has over Evil.

And that's another issue I had - the film suffers from the Percy Jackson effect. They tried to have their cake and eat it too. Introducing Rafal AS Rafal and not just the School Master, as well as combining Lady Lesso with Evelyn Sader, has made making sequels to the film much harder for them, just like the Percy Jackson films did with Kronos.

Not only that, but like the Percy Jackson films, the SGE film tries to establish the characters as Good and Evil. On a surface level, that must seem obvious - The School for Good and Evil is literally the name of the series. But that's what the filmmakers failed to understand about the books: there was still nuance. In the first Percy Jackson film, Hades was portrayed as if he were the devil just because he was God of the Dead, when in the books he was actually just as in the wrong as Zeus or Poseidon, and although he made some mistakes, he ultimately was a flawed person, who just wanted his stuff back. Rafal has kind of had the same treatment - yes, he was basically Evil Incarnate in the books, but he was still a person, who regretted killing his brother in his bid for power, and truly believed he loved Sophie.

Another issue I had was with how the film treated the Good students, the princesses in particular. In the books, Beatrix, Millicent and their friends, while not very nice to Agatha, were still good people. They wished for Princes in the wish fish scene not because they were selfish and obnoxious (like in the film), but because they didn't want to fail their classes. They had their own wants and needs, and their own strengths and weaknesses. In the film, Beatrix in particular (while phenomenally cast) came off as that typical Regina George type character, with (again) very little nuance. I actually quite liked Beatrix in the book - she was bubbly, helpful when she wanted to be, and was happy for Agatha when she 'became' beautiful. The film strips her of all that, making her snide and arrogant - something I wish the film gave to Sophie.

Just so that I don't end on a mean note, here are some things I really liked about the film that I haven't already mentioned:

Hort and Hester - both were born for the roles they played, and were styled to perfection

the CGI, which was beautiful

Charlize Theron as Lady Lesso, truly stunning

Kit Young as Rhian and Rafal, especially the fight scene

the acting - while I have issues with the characterisation and some appearances, every single actor knocked it out the park, I honestly can't think of a weak link

the chemistry between Tedros and Agatha was on point, and I loved the scene where Agatha tripped and Tedros caught her

Tedros's fight scenes, which were well choreographed

the hair and makeup, especially for Beatrix and Lesso, their hair must have taken HOURS to get that good

Kiko wanting to be a cat so she can sleep under a warm stove, which was painfully in character

the princess dresses were very pretty, I wish I could wear one

In conclusion, I think SGE would work better as a tv series, with more time to flesh out the nuances of the themes and characters.

#sge #school for good and evil #school for good and evil spoilers #sge spoilers #i made this on a whim #and it turned into an essay #i keep doing this #its really a problem

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erosofthepen · 2 years ago

Note

i dont have any specific requests but just. Kili. thoughts on Kili.

i have so many thoughts on kili you came to the right person

things i hc abt kili:

-he has a journal he writes in religiously. its all poetry and random thoughts and pressed flowers or other flora he's found that catches his eye. he doodles pretty things in it as well, from crystal caves to the fire of the forge.

-mans is a hopeless romantic. all he wants is an epic beautiful story-for-the-ages whirlwind romance that is fueled by passion and love. and whilst his romances might not always work out the way his 200k fanfic he wrote in his teens did, he never gives them up and relishes each experience. Even bad romances fuel his poetry writing at least. And with his One, when he finally meets them, he does all the simp-worthy romantic shit, from picking bouquets to opening doors.

-drawing from the poetry, kili is incredibly intelligent, at least literature-wise. dont get me wrong, mans is a dumbass and a himbo, but he could talk for hours on end on how the structure of a syllable scheme can make or break a poem. he's very well versed in symbolism and dwarven mythology and lore, and, next to ori, is the best person able to understand and find the deeper meaning in different works, and discuss them thoroughly.

-kili honestly isn't the best in the forges. he does alright, but his skill is comparable to an average human blacksmith. his real talent in metalworking comes to the details. like carving dozens of intricate lines into a single ring, or carving a whole battle scene on the inside of a bracelet. it's a skill he is very proud of, even if he can't even forge a good knife.

-mama's boy. i feel like thorin kind overlooked kili a lot growing up, his focus was on fili, being the heir and all, so kili didn't have a super strong adult male figure in his life. he had his mom, which is arguably better for him. like he'd spend all day helping dis in her shop or at her trade, and just chilling with his amad.

-he knows how to cook. like dis probs taught him, needed at least one son capable of creating edible food (she gave up with fili, who took after thorin in this way), and by god kili learned fast. he knows what he's doing in the kitchen. he is this whole video.

-i also think kili would be the type of dwarf to collect shineys. like crystals and fun rocks and bits of jewelry. he has corvid like tendencies and has pouches and boxes full of his collections.

-mans is deeply insecure. this hc is pretty popular, but like with no beard and being the dwarf version of a tall lanky string bean, he has body image issues. he doesn't have a lot of problems with confidence, like fake it till you make it vibes, but when it comes down to him and his One, he needs validation. he needs to know that he is the prettiest boy. just needs reminding and loving.

-coming from the insecure place, i believe later in life kili has a huge glow up. to quote my dear friend @cutie-cutter, "he's a late bloomer, but by god he blooms". like maybe in his 90s all of a sudden he fills out a lot, some nice body fat over all that muscle, and then starts growing a really nice beard. like it ain't super long but its thick and lush and ideal for braiding. he is the prettiest boy.

-kili is also the ultimate wingman. like when he's younger he doesn't have the looks but he has the game with his words alone. with fili its the opposite, fili's like mr. knightly in the sense of "if i loved you less i might be able to talk about it more", he ain't good with all the cute romantic shit. but kili helps him by writing poems and teaching him lines at the small price of taking his dessert for a week.

-(kinda nsfw?) while young and still escorting merchants with fili, i feel like kili def. got himself some fun nights at brothels. like he'd be more than willing to spend all his earnings in one night for some... special treatment. I also hc that kili didn't really get with women a lot when a younger adult, mostly men, bcs mans has daddy issues like you wont believe. the bisexual also probs thinks his chances with women are low anyways, since women in dwarven culture can be picky and usually go for ones with looks, or at least a full beard.

-(nsfwish) also going back to his journal, he also has a hell of a lot of erotic poetry in there. he'll spend stanzas describing sensations and the aesthetics of a particularly steamy night, and if someone catches his eye he could go on and on about them. absolutely no one is allowed to see his journal besides him (thorin found it once and just sighed in disappointment and wishing he had bleach before closing it and never bringing it up), and it is kept out of sight at all times. it would be very interesting for his One to find it though, and all the different scenarios that could play out...

that's all for now, thank you for this ask!! love talking about this bisexual whore of a man.

#kili #the hobbit #kili headcannons #headcannons #fili #ori #thorin #dís #erosofthepens thoughts #tolkien #asks

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parchmentedpetrichor · 3 years ago

Text

➳who cursed the bludger? ♡

in which the reader's dominant hand is injured badly after a rogue bludger slams into it and none other than fred weasley is behind it. who cursed the bludger?

fred weasley x fem!reader

word count: ± 2k

tw: serious injury, a little bit of swearing

drop a follow if you wanna see more of this content!!

my masterlist:D

ft. penny clearwater

who cursed the bludger?

y/n was currently draped lazily over her broomstick, haven given up trying to teach penelope clearwater how to fly. said prefect was on the grass, smirking as y/n embarrassedly looked around.

"penny that's not ok to ask!"

"fine, fine," she pondered for a moment, "hey, what's up with you and fred weasley, huh?"

"nothing at all," y/n answered a little too quick for penny's liking.

"c'mon, y/n, you're younger than me, i should know all that happens. you two are very...flirty."

"yeah well, my dear pennysylvania, we have flirty personalities. duh."

"no, you don't."

"okay, i don't. he does."

"but he seems like he means it."

"of course he means it? he says it in a joking way? y'know, he means it as a joke."

"hmm, nope, i don't think so, y/n. he's looking your way right now."

"i'm probably blocking the space, let's move outta the way."

"you're not gonna play with them?"

"already play in matches, why now? let's chat."

fred was silently eavesdropping on their conversation as he heard his name.

"sooo you and perceeee??" y/n dragged out, grinning as she did loop-do-loops with her broomstick.

penny blushed, but looked disappointed, "he likes oliver."

"oh. well, f percy, what about marcus??"

"he's just marcus. we're best friends, y/n."

"my fav trope of romance is best friends to lovers," y/n wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and penny shook her head in amusement.

"my one is the opposites attract."

"hmm yeah, that's a good one too, it's really cute! say, aren't you and mar-"

"i was meaning you!"

"huh?"

"you and fred."

fred smirked as he listened, flicking back the bludger harshly at angelina.

"oh yes because we are totally meant for each other," y/n sarcastically replied.

"what's that supposed to mean?"

"yes."

"you're doing this on purpose!"

"hmm? what?"

"oh my goodness, merlin you're stupid bro!" penny said exasperatedly.

"and you just realised. congrats, penny."

"anyway, what i'm saying is you and fred are rather like opposites. although he's extroverted and you're extroverted, you're a cute little nerd," y/n huffed at this 'i am n o t a nerd for the last time!' "and he's a class clown in the most charming way. you like reading and he likes pranking people and quidditch. you're a goody two shoes, an adorable one, but he's this foolish jock," penny looked proud with her argument so y/n laughed, "you're modest and he's very confident. and you're both hot."

y/n smiled, "i am not hot!" she giggled, "that's stupid."

"oi, ange!" penny called to angelina who looked over at her in amusement.

"yeah?"

"is y/n hot?"

"oh, totally!" angelina casually threw the quaffle into the hoop, "10/10."

"guyyys you flatTer me," y/n stretched out as the three of them laughed, "i'm bLushIng."

"you actually are," angie quipped.

"it's a command thing. if she wants to blush, she'll blush," replied penny.

they burst into giggles again.

fred watched y/n. a rosy pink, sure enough, had spread across her cheeks. that was enough to get her blushing?

"oi, l/n!"

y/n's head snapped his way, her eyes narrowed as if expecting an insult being thrown her way.

"your lips are pretty!"

her form relaxed, "thanks! yours are too!!"

penny giggled as angie rolled around laughing.

"what?" y/n looked around.

"the way you return flirting is hilarious."

"a compliment for a compliment, isn't that what they say?"

angelina snorted, "no one says that."

"oh well i say it, so deal with it."

"hey, i have an idea!" penny brightened up.

"let's hear it!"

"let's teach y/n pick up lines, ange!"

"oh you're a genius, penny!"

"okay, so-"

a bludger came whizzing at y/n as she screamed, trying frantically to dodge it. it hit her hand and a crack was heard.

luckily she immediately hopped off calmly, taking out her wand shakily and stunning the bludger, before penny and angie helped her over to the hospital ward, fred lagging guiltily behind.

she was ordered to stay in bed rest and with drowsy eyes she drifted off.

fred watched her feeling so terrible as he saw her heavily bandaged hand, imagining how he was going to tell her that he was in fact the one that had charmed it.

the next day, she was out and about, gently cradling her hand which was broken.

"um, hey, y/n," he nervously approached her.

"oh, hello!"

"i might have jinxed the bludger to go wild," he confessed abruptly, "i'm really sorry i didn't mean to-"

"no, it's fine, really." she gave him a reassuring smile and walked off.

he noticed that she couldn't write in class. usually she was scribbling away, but she just sat awkwardly at her desk, trying frantically to get anything legible down with her non-dominant hand. the fact she was so courteous and forgiving about everything just made it worse.

by now, y/n was dying inside. she couldn't write notes, and even though she wanted to ask any willing person for a duplicate of their notes, she'd have to explain the whole broken hand thing.

"ange?"

"yep?"

"do you have history of magic notes?" y/n did puppy eyes.

"nope, you forgot i dropped out."

"oh."

"do you want mine?" fred asked, smirking as he looked y/n up and down.

"you take notes?!!!" y/n was shook.

"only for you, 'cause i felt bad."

"you didn't need to!"

"i did. you want them?"

"yes please, thank you so much, you're a lifesaver!!"

"you're acting like you're not the one the bludger hit," angie quipped and y/n frowned, completely forgetting fred was still there, browsing the notes.

"c'mon, it was just an accident. and i've always wanted to be ambidextrous."

"lovely, you were struggling. i'll take all your notes. my handwriting isn't neat but i owe you."

y/n ducked to hide the light blush she could not control at all.

immediately she got a confused look from fred.

and instantly she thought of something that might make the blush go away. he didn't mean it, it slipped out, she thought and she felt her face cooling down, a slight frown appearing on her face.

"o-okay, thanks fred."

"no problems, darling," he flirted.

"that's good, darling," she flirted graciously back, bravely tilting her head up and looking him in the eye.

he took it well.

"where did you learn how to flirt so well, my little love??"

"why, freddie," she joked flirtatiously, "from you of course!"

he coughed and excused himself.

"he should really be careful with who he's flirting mindlessly with," y/n rolled her eyes.

angelina laughed, "flirting mindlessly? do you see the way he looks at you?"

"personality," y/n stated simply.

"or not."

true to his word, notes in fred's flurry of handwriting appeared neatly stacked every day. they were far too thorough and consisted of stupid flirty notes by the side. sometimes a little note, written in class, was jammed in there probably by accident:

hello freddie!

i have a crush on you 0-o, hogsmeade at 7pm on sunday?

-jamie <3, boy who sits in front of you in arithmancy

jamie,

i already have my eye on someone :) not you, sorry, y/n cringed at the bluntness of his words

you are very nice, perhaps try trera rivera if you swing that way? or illinois ann if you swing all ways?

oh i'm so sorry, i didn't know that! i'll talk to both. was the gracious answer

-jamie

and again! the lucky boy! this time from a girl.

weasley-

i know we hate each other but give me a chance to explain myself? broom closet at 9 tomorrow ? it trailed off to something that y/n didn't even want to think about.

k.o

fuck off. i don't fucking like you, i like someone else, ffs.

was the reply as y/n laughed and made sure to give the note back to fred.

it wasn't everyday someone confessed to you, right?

she underlined all the words that simply weren't legible to ask fred about.

and aNOTHER ONE?? how did this boy have so many admirers? y/n had received 0 love letters from any boy, let alone people of the same gender. you knew you were good with the ladies (and the gentlemen) when everyone sent you these letters.

dearest frederick-

it droned quite sweetly on about him and loving him and the writing was really magnificent.

margaret perrer

hi marg

i'm really really sorry. you seem like such a nice person, and it's not you, it's me. i, however, have a friend who really adores you: kenneth. he'll be an amazing friend and maybe more.

i also already am interested in another girl, so it really isn't you. thank you for your beautiful letter, hopefully we can be friends!

fred

oh he was very nice. feeling like she had overstepped the boundaries, she put them aside, discovering more and more but putting them all in a stack. she felt slightly insecure, especially when they all looked relatively neW?? the perfume on the flowers still smelled fresh?? who was this guy?

she sighed, finishing her read through and being thoroughly impressed with the sheer quality of the notes.

but there were around 100 words she had underlined. she skipped down into the great hall where she spotted two gingers. as soon as one (she couldn't see which one) saw her, he got up, whispered to the other something, and left.

when she approached the one that was left behind, she saw it was george.

"hi georgie!" she greeted him and thrust the papers into his hand, "where's fred?"

george shrugs, "left, for a date or something."

"oh, okay, could you translate these for me, the underlined words?" if y/n was disappointed, she didn't show it.

"oh yeah, sure, his handwriting's rubbish, isn't it."

"yes it is, i can barely read half of it."

george finished scribbling words next to the underlined ones.

"oh! and give these back to him? i'm pretty sure he dropped them in, probably got mixed up." she gave him the pile of letters, now neatly bundled in rope she had found.

"oh, yeah sure," george smirked, "of course."

"nice, well that's it, thanks for the help!"

"anything else?"

"tell fred good luck."

"right, right, mhm."

"yea."

once she'd left, george took out his walkie talkie.

"got that, freddie?"

"crystal clear."

"you're pining, pffft, hahahahah," george smirked as fred sighed.

"it didn't even work?"

"which plan?"

"the one to drop the letters in."

"i'm pretty sure she read like two, she didn't seem that disappointed?"

"exactly."

"you're an idiot. just tell her."

"but that's boringggg."

"well drop the hints then, merlin fred you're terrible at this."

"i haven't dated a billion girls like you!"

"then learn how to date my goodness."

"true."

"come fucking back."

"hickies or no?"

"eh go for it. i wanna see her reaction and then we can decide whether she likes you or not."

fred strided handsomely in, neck littered with little hickies and his top had two buttons open, freckles and pale broad shoulders showing.

george rolled his eyes, muttering, "drama queen," as he subtlely watched y/n. she managed not to look so surprised, her eyes widening then looking down quickly at her hands.

he would have thought she felt nothing for his twin if a light pink had not dusted over her face and if angie had not nudged her with a concerned look on her face.

y/n was wondering what the hell happened, disappointment rising slowly in her.

"okay, she's into you," george whispered as fred began removing the spell, leaving the unbuttoned shirt unbuttoned.

"cool beans."

"oh and she gives these back," george smirked.

"oh look at how she bundled it! so adorable georgie!"

"you're disgusting."

y/n hurried to the library at 6pm. she had heard the book she had waited for was finally available.

as she settled down with it, a paper aeroplane hit her.

"ahh!" she screamed as she caught it.

it read:

forbidden forest, 8pm.

huh? was this meant for her? it was in neat handwriting and on the smoothest parchment, with a single flower that smelt like fresh rain.

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villavineyards · 3 years ago

Text

beneath the sun

what i think it'd be like to be partnered with youcef from the beginning, and life outside of the villa *sighs wistfully*..

title from taylor swift's august MY FAVORITE SONG EVER OF ALL TIME

wc: 1.5k, gn reader

i hc youcef as a libra sun, virgo moon, and scorpio rising with pluto in his first house and a leo venus. libra sun bc libra is ruled by venus planet of beauty love and comfort and he likes pretty things (remember the dialogue before his date w juliet? and he studied philosophy! we also see he's a smooth talker my air sign king), virgo moon bc he has high standards and is gorgeous, and scorpio rising bc he's SEXY and mc's first impression of him is that he's really intense/suave (which also ties into the pluto in first house thing bc that's THE INTENSE placement. i would know. i have pluto in my first house), and leo venus bc we see he values his ego/outer self but still wants to find that spark and leo is an emotional sign so i can absolutely see a romantic in him wanting the best for the people he loves and therefore always striving to be the best (youcef inferiority complex era?))

first off, imagine the theatrics in the honeymoon phase. he's so dramatic and would have no shame, imagine him just walking up to mc and dragging them off with no explanation just because he wants their attention i CANT. he'd slyly stay in bed in the mornings just to stay close to mc, would pop in the dressing room to watch mc get ready but then say 'making sure you're doing it correctly. you're partnered with me and we need everyone to be jealous of us', would always make sure mc is under the shade and sunscreened thoroughly, is totally the bf to randomly send poems throughout the day (would say yes to the worm question), is ABSOLUTELY the type to give mc a gift of his face on a blanket or a shirt, prefers subtle pda only because he respects mc too much to think about possibly debauching them in public, SUCH A ROMANTIC, small gestures that he shrugs off but that mean the world to mc, would make even the smallest of meals fancy with some kind of garnish he produced ("is this flower even edible?" "don't question me my darling")

AND IMAGINE THE PET NAMES... i know a few french guys from traveling and they are SO slick with calling everyone 'my love' or 'sweetheart' and 'gorgeous' and sometimes that accent hits just right .. i need to lay down lol. omfg imagine mc w thabi's personality who gets SO flustered not knowing that makes youcef want to call them by that name even more .. rawr

juliet said that youcef probably has high standards and i have to agree, considering he's surrounded by gorgeous people 24/7 with work lmao. i can see him not being sympathetic to mc's concerns/insecurities and being like 'is it not enough i'm here now telling you now that you're the one i want' both because a) he's a man and b) he just doesn't think it's a big deal. this can absolutely be a problem and if left to fester could very well be what kills the relationship /:

we see he has an affinity for the finer things, so i imagine his gifts are no different; buying things on a whim because he thought the color would complement mc, remembering something mc said weeks back about a sold out bag, he happened to be thinking about them when he saw it in the window, literally anything. i like to imagine he'd use his money to impress mc at first, but soon realized she cherished the singular stream of confetti he had stuck in his suit from the finale more than the €800 pair of shoes still in the box ;alternatively: mc revels in the expensive gifts, and in turn they make the most snobby looking beautiful couple ever whose sunglasses take up nearly half of their face. sigh

so we know his mom is like uber important to him, so i can imagine when/if he finally lets his mom meet mc it's the first time we see him absolutely bricking it despite his cool demeanor. he keeps putting their hair behind their ear/smoothing down any sleeves, makes sure all jewelry are visible and right side up and everything is perfectly pressed, absentmindedly rubbing lotion on mc's hands and arms and then worrying abt chafing, all of this to a point where when his mom does walk in and see's youcef all over mc she's like "youcef get a grip" or something LMAOOO idk i imagine youcef being so worried abt the two ppl he loves most meeting bc it would kill him if things went south ): of course she'd love mc bc Main Character protection lol

i think to reach a longterm, more chilled out youcef mc would have to be okay with being on their own and be VERY secure with themselves and their relationship with him and not at all dependent on him; with the stress from his job, the last thing he wants to deal with is a relationship where mc gets super insecure over everything and wants to know every single thing he did while gone which can lead to PROBLEMMSS. he'd reach a point where it feels like no matter what he says mc doesn't believe him that they're the only one for him or that he only wants a future w mc so he stops trying altogether. anyways. he still is up with the dramatics, but in his own way. i can see subtle hands on mc's waist when they're out, matching engraved jewelry, ALL THE IG POSTS, sharing food together but in a Cute way, brings up mc and their work/accomplishments whenever he can despite the context of the conversation, sends flowers when he's in milan or new york and mc is in europe, mc is all cool and mature after the course of the relationship and it ties well with his persona, stuff like his thumb rubbing over mc's knuckle or slow dancing in the streets after hearing a street performer or that one oscar isaac moment when he kissed jessica chastain's arm SCREAMS

we know he was engaged before, and i think that kind of genuine commitment might still be something he'd want but just isn't sure how to actually achieve it. i dont know how soon he'd propose and all of that, but i can see the commitment of living together; with him traveling so much with work i can see that actually becoming a strain if worse comes to worse. he's devoted and i don't particularly question his loyalty, but i do worry about how often his mind is changing to new ideas and horizons and if mc could live with that kind of spontaneity. i picture mc trying to make a grand show for youcef's return home and he's too exhausted to appreciate it fully and that being the cherry on top ): with a relationship like this, i'd like to repeat it needs a partner who is VERY secure in themselves and their relationship for it to succeed- youcef doesn't want to be difficult and if he could he'd get the moon and stars if mc asked, but with his line of work he needs to find that balance to make sure all parties are happy.

i absolutely would not make it long term w youcef bc i value downtime and physical presence and dont care for gifts or fancy shows and with a relationship like this, bottom line it's more of youcef doing his thing and mc along for the ride. which is great obviously don't let your relationship define you but in my case i need to be with my partner 24/7 LMAO i'm clingy and needy and die from no attention and youcef is very independent and sophisticated so in the case of youcef and villavineyards i'd give it maybe 5 months max <3 that and i need my routines do not ever surprise me with something i will melt into a puddle and not in a good way

overall: great bf if you can handle the distance/can blindly trust him without holding that against him, definitely for someone who knows what they're doing and doesn't need help or support at each end. points of concern being he has a demanding job and could be emotionally or physically absent, at its very worst would be unfaithful bc either he feels like he can't do anything right in his relationship w mc and doesn't care about trying to fix it anymore or mc can't handle the distance and being alone- all stuff that can be talked through of course so it doesn't reach that point, but easier said than done. also he's not real haha

i'd like to say that this was probably super ooc but i create reality and this is how i perceive it (๑ > ᴗ < ๑)

thank you to god and jesus for making youcef a confirmed li and thank you even more to the beautiful script decoders of this community i don't know where us normal people would be without the godlike abilities you all have of being able to read code and all those numbers and words simultaneously <3 i could def add on to this bc idk this part doesnt feel romantic the way i hc him to be .. we'll see lol ;P

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astheroid · 4 years ago

Text

“Are you still mad at me?”

Bokuto

⚠️ Angst to fluff, insecurities and implied depression

Bokuto stared feverishly at the small bright screen in his hands. His fingers, clenched so tightly they hurt, ghosted over his phone.

It had been exactly three days, twelve hours, fifty-two minutes, and four seconds since you had last responded to him.

He gulped, anxieties swirling in his stomach.

‘Do they hate me now?’

‘Did I really drive them away?’

‘No, no. They love me. Don’t they?’

‘Fuck, Koutarou. You screwed up again.’

‘Don’t let this be like last time.’

‘Please… they can’t have left for good.’

‘I don’t want to be alone.’

He brushed his hair out of his eyes with clammy hands. You had snapped at him for being too pushy with his affection earlier, and the memory was the only thing plaguing his mind.

“Kou, you can’t expect me to drop everything for you.” You said, eyebrows furrowed. “I have work to do.”

“I know that, I just wanted you to come to this one practice. It’s really important.” He said, playing with his hands.

“Why do you need me there?”

“Well… Tsumu, Shoyo, and I figured out a new attack and I wanted you to see.”

You shook your head. “Maybe next time. I’m so close to getting that promotion, and taking time off from work wouldn’t look good for me.”

“It’s just one day, baby. Can’t you work it out with your boss?” He questioned. His arms attempted to pull you into a hug, but you shrugged him off.

“It’s not ‘just one day’. It’s the day before the biggest meeting of the year.” You looked up at him. “Stop being so pushy with this.”

He gulped, eyes falling to the floor. “I’m sorry, I just…”

“Look, I’m sorry I can’t make it and I love you, but you need to leave. I won’t be able to get anything done with you here.”

He tried his best to smile. “Okay! Hug me before I go?” You nodded and opened your arms. He scooped you up and swung you around before he heard a loud ‘thunk’.

He wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings and knocked your coffee onto your laptop. His eyes widened and he immediately set you down.

“Shit, honey! I’m so so so sorry.” He exclaimed, frantically trying to sop up the liquid with his shirt. His panicked movements only pushed the coffee around, thoroughly soaking your workspace.

You stood there speechless, fists clenched by your sides. Had your work been autosaved before the spill? Would your laptop turn on? Were the notes on your desk still legible?

“Kou, what the fuck.” You muttered, the frustration from your stressful week starting to slip out.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I totally wasn’t looking where I was going and I swear I’ll make it up to you.” He stammered, looking everywhere but you.

“That laptop you just fried was almost a thousand dollars.” Your voice was trembling.

“I know, I'll buy you a new one just please-”

“That document that may or may not have been saved took me a week to get halfway through.” You stood up straight, looking him dead in the eyes.

“Please calm down, sweetie. It was an accident and I’ll make it up to you any way you want.” He pleaded, white t-shirt soaked brown.

“You can’t fucking make that up to me. Just leave.” You said, trying your best to regulate your breathing.

“It-it’s gonna be okay.” He tried to touch your arm with a watery smile.

“FUCKING LEAVE! I DON’T WANT YOU HERE!” You snapped, tears now rolling down your face. “I don’t want you to touch me. I don’t want you to talk to me. I want to be alone so I can sort out this problem YOU caused.” You gestured to your ruined desk.

He was shaking, only capable of staring at you with horrified eyes. “I’m sorry, I thought a hug might make you feel better.”

“Knocking over my shit and destroying my property isn’t making me feel better,” You ranted. “In fact, it’s making me feel terrible. I can’t stand you being so touchy and annoying all the time, it just messes everything up.”

This hit him right in the insecurities. “Okay. I’ll leave. Um. Have a good day, honey.”

“Don’t call me that.” You muttered, wiping your desk down.

He nodded and left, softly closing the door behind him.

That night he had a complete breakdown. Tears soaked his pillow as he shook his bed with loud hics, his throat was sore from crying. He took the next few days off because he couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed.

The three day thirteen hour mark soon passed. It was well past bedtime, but Bokuto couldn’t sleep. The dark circles under his eyes were proof enough.

As his fatigued body slumped down his headboard, his phone let out three soft ‘ding’s.

His fingers quickly typed a response.

His cheeks were burning from his wide smile.

Before he could celebrate, you texted him again.

He hesitated with his response. What would you say if you knew he had been skipping practice? Would you be mad at him for being lazy? He hadn’t eaten since the fight, what if his stomach grumbled at the wrong time?

He shook his head and typed an answer.

It was maybe thirty minutes before you arrived at his door.

He opened the door and smiled, reaching out to pull you into a hug before flinching. Right. You didn’t want him to touch you.

You looked at him guiltily. “I’m sorry, Kou. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s my fault. I didn’t look where I was going and I was being annoying.”

You grabbed his arm, eyes wide. “That’s not true. It’s not your fault and I regret everything I said, baby. I’m sorry for saying that to you.”

He closed his eyes, his laugh sounding more like a sob. “Thanks, but I get it. You were stressed and I was being too pushy. I won’t do it again, I swear.”

You wrapped your arms around him and hugged tightly. As soon as he felt your comforting touch, the dam broke and he was crying like a baby all over again. “I real-really want to make it up to you.” He sniffled, pawing at his eyes.

You gently took his hand and led him to his bedroom, sitting him down on the bed.

“It’s my fault. Don’t blame yourself, alright? I love how affectionate and passionate you are. You’re never annoying.” You assured, kissing him between words. His cheeks were damp and he didn’t smell all that great, but in the moment you couldn’t care less.

“I love you.” He mumbled, pulling you closer. You stroked his back as he cried in your arms.

“I love you too. I’ve never stopped loving you and I never will. You’re perfect and amazing.” You whispered. He hiccuped and buried his face further into your chest.

It was quiet for a moment, the only sound being his quiet sniffles. He eventually pulled his head up and kissed you on the cheek. “Are you still mad at me?” he asked, thumbing the tear streaks on your face.

“Of course not! I’m not that mean.” You teased, voice shaky. “Let’s get you to bed, okay?” He nodded and allowed you to take off his shirt, replacing it with a fresh one.

You tucked him into bed, curling around him and combing through his hair with your fingers. “I love you.” You said, face pressed into his back.

“Love you too.” He murmured. He slipped into sleep as you whispered reassurances, petting his hair.

Returning to ‘normal’ was a slow but necessary process that took effort from both parties. Arguments aren’t something easily resolved by a bit of sweet-talking, but rather a process that both strains and strengthens your relationship. Through this experience, you both learned a lot about each other and your specific needs.

You realize that love isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, but understanding and meaningful conversation will repair most wounds.

Love with Bokuto was most certainly something you wanted to keep.

As a Bokuto kinnie that relates to the feelings of being too annoying or clingy, this hurt to write :,)

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hotwings0203 · 4 years ago

Text

An Ode to the Unseen

Thinkin about readers who feel self conscious, readers who feel like they’re not happy with their weight, readers who don’t feel girly enough or feel too vulnerable because of whatever height they’re at. I’m thinkin about readers who suffer from body dysmorphia, who shy away from looking at themselves in the mirror to avoid seeing their scars, body hair or acne. This is for the readers who feel too submissive and feel like a pushover in their lives, and this is for the readers who feel like they’re too fiesty and not soft enough. It doesn’t matter if you feel like you can’t relate to the stereotypical tropes in writing, or if you feel like you can’t act like a perfectly constructed Y/N in real life, this ones for you💖

A/N: Hello to all reading! I made this on a whim just to tackle some of the insecurities lesser described characters in stories might feel, but this is in no way meant to exclude anyone at all! We all have beautiful bodies, and should own up to it even if we don’t always see the problems we face in writing. Some of these topics might be sensitive to readers or trigger memories that might be disturbing to others, so please heed the warnings! Also the Hawks prompt at the end gets pretty nsfw, so heads up for that hehe

CW: dubcon, manipulating, fluff, slight angst, EDs, body dysmorphia, kidnapping, abuse, degradation, some nsfw, yandere, language, insecurity

You’re ever feeling not particularly happy with your face or body because of an acne breakout, or a rash that won’t go away? Maybe a birthmark that you try to cover up with makeup? Even stretch marks or scars from surgery?

You can bet your ass shigaraki will notice the way you can barely glance at the mirror some days just so you don’t have to see your own reflection when it’s time to go to bed with him.

His obvious and intense stare makes you fidget and gets your skin crawling, but he says nothing that night when he holds you a little too tightly-tighter than most nights he’s with you. The sound of his raspy breaths lulls you to sleep, but when you wake up he’s already gone, out on another mission or at a meeting with the Yakuza.

You feel groggy and gross, and going to the bathroom just to look in the mirror again to see whatever ails your body and/or face does nothing to stop your groan of misery.

You do your business all while turning away from your reflection, not wanting to see a second more of your discontentment staring right back at you while you wash your face, brush your teeth, and meticulously do your hair.

Finally making your way downstairs to the bar, you sit on one of the barstools and hold your head in your hands, not wanting to meet anyone’s gaze and no doubt seeing their disgust at your ailment.

But you look up when a soft whirring sound and purple-black tendrils of smoke appear before you

“Young master L/N,” Kurogiri says. “Have you been feeling alright? You retired earlier last night and had the most uncomfortable of expressions on your face, I couldn’t help but notice.”

No matter how much you despised or were wary of Tomura, you knew his caretaker, Kurogiri, had your back. He was respectful of your space, and if he knew you weren’t in the mood for talking then he wouldn’t push you

And so you told him your predicament, opening up about your problem spot(s)

“It’s so embarrassing, Kurogiri. I feel gross and I feel like everyone’s looking at me,” you mumble, putting your head down on the cool polished wood countertop.

He’s silent for a moment or two, before the tendrils of his supposed hands warp into a small portals. They appear again immediately, producing a couple of bottles and place them in front of you.

You raise your head slightly at the sound of sloshing liquid and rattling pills as the bottles are lined up before you in an orderly fashion, and you eye them suspiciously.

“What’s this?” You ask, picking up a tube as your curiosity is piqued.

“Young master Tomura Shigaraki had warned me beforehand of your reclusive nature when you ponder on what cannot be controlled, and sent me a list this morning to pick up some medication that might help you, should you need it. He asked me to bring back every item as soon as possible, so you wouldn’t feel the need to procure anything by yourself and strain yourself unnecessarily.”

You scoff, not buying the surprising act of affection. “So, what, he’s just doing this so he doesn’t have to look at my disgusting (body part of choice) anymore? He wants to come back and see some perfectly molded pet to stare at all day?”

Kurogiri shakes his head, however.

“I know how the young master is perceived to many: abrasive, immature, and brash in his thoughts and actions. He has a long way to go in terms of maturing in the way he views things, and unfortunately he was not blessed with…the best of upbringings, so he truly doesn’t know any better, as you already know.”

You wince internally, feeling slightly guilty now.

“But,” he continues slowly, “he was not born with evil in his heart. He’s just bitter with society, and is desperate for others to know his pain and see the world for what it really is towards those who are suffering. That’s why he is so taken with you, young L/N. Before you came here, he observed your mannerisms and was thoroughly attracted to the way you could see through people’s surface level facades. Although your views on the world may differ here and there, he is desperate to show you that he understands your suffering, and that he’s there for you-“

“-yeah, well, he has a funny way of showing it,” you mutter darkly, memories of chains and dark rooms and various marks on your body flashing through your mind. Even if Kurogiri was telling the truth, it would take some time for you to come around and even begin to try to give yourself to Shigaraki. He was just too volatile, too rough and negligent of your wants and needs. He lashed out at everything you did, and made you feel like nothing you ever did was enough to please his shifty nature.

“Yes, I can understand you bitter feelings towards him,” the black and purple mass hummed in thought. “I have tried explaining how a human girl is to be treated, however, and he is slowly trying to learn. I feel as though he may feel embarrassed at times from his lack of knowledge at such simple social norms, and that is another factor of his frequent temper tantrums. He might be the leader of a powerful villain organization, but when he realizes he has no knowledge of making friends or keeping relationships, it’s an embarrassing blow to his ego. Especially with you, he is especially sentimental and touchy regarding topics that pertain to you. He often will sit here in silence after you two have a, uh, little spat, and hesitantly will seek my advice on how to make things up to you. ”

And you realize with a grimace that he’s right-there are days after you both have a big blowout(usually over the most pettiest of things, maybe you turned away from him while sleeping and he took it as a sign of disobedience, or maybe you didn’t greet him when he came back from an especially tiring mission and he used that opportunity to take his pent up stress out on you) that he’ll come back after storming out of the room only to creep back in hours later with various trinkets in his hand.

You’d be alerted of his presence when the pitch black room is blessed with a yellow ray of light from the opening creaky door as he enters, and you will yourself to continue breathing slowly, as if you were still asleep. But he’s so quiet and stealthy as he comes closer to you, it’s hard not to be surprised and flinch or jump when his arm reaches over you just to place one of your favorite snacks on the cracked dresser next to you.

It’s hard to keep your head down on the dusty pillow and keep your curiosity in check when you feel him breathing down your neck as he lays a stuffed animal on the blanket next to you, and you often wonder where he knows to buy such fragile and innocent things.

Your aesthetic that he so closely has memorized from each singular color to the details of your favorite patterns make a stark, disturbing contrast to his greying, deadly aura. It’s almost impressive that he pertains each gift to your taste when he’s feeling especially sorrowful

“But nevertheless, the master has asked me relinquish these to you as soon as you came downstairs. And, just between me and you,” he leans closer and you do too, finding yourself wanting to know this secret side of your captor even further, “he was muttering something as he left, something along the lines of not wanting you to feel like you had to use these products. I think he was trying to say that he never wants you to feel as though you have to make up any part of your body you feel insecure about to him. He wants you to stay the same way you always are, and if you never adjust to your surroundings here, then he at the very least wants you to be comfortable in your own skin, blemishes and all.”

“This may or may not come as a surprise to you, but he himself knows what it’s like to feel insecure about his own skin and body,” and it comes across so ridiculously innocent and striking to you that such a lethal character such as the infamous Shigaraki would have the same problems a normal, functioning member of society would have: skincare and body insecurity. But the lines, scratches, and scars that litter his face can attest to this notion. How often did he himself avoid looking in the mirror for, not wanting to see his translucent skin, the clawmarks that left bright, angry trails up his face and down the sides of his neck, the cracks in and around his lips and eyes? Is that why he left his hair down skit covered his face, and the hand on top covering him whole more often on than not?

And so you finally open the lid to the tube, testing the feel of its contents that promise your mutinous skin some time of relief.

The door suddenly bangs open, and the man of the hour himself slinks in, nails idly scratching the underside of his jaw as he mutters under his breath to himself.

He lifts his head and sees you and kurogiri at the bar, a tube of ointment in your hand , the lid opened in testing as the rest of his presents are in array all around you.

As if you were accepting them.

As if you were accepting him

He feels his face beat up and his deteriorating body starts to prickle and sweat. He merely scratches harder, his mumbling continuing as he slowly makes his way over to you

You watch his little unsure shuffled towards you, and you can’t help it when your heart twinges as you take in his hopeful yet cautious expression, no matter how hard he tries to stifle any vulnerable emotion

So, in a moments decision of truce you quickly lean forward to whisper to Kurogiri one last favor before turning to see a new light of your captor

“Before I go, I need some things from you, please. By tonight, do you think you could pick up some self care things at the corner store for me? I’m talking face masks, lotions, Vaseline, and hair products.”

“I think if I see him accept himself and care for the body he’s in least for one night, I could be happy in my skin, too.”

Feeling conscious about your weight, whether it’s over or under your preferred look? Please, don’t make Kiri laugh at your naivety

You groaned as you stood on the scale, the numbers reading back at you seeming more mocking than simple statistics

You weren’t meeting your preferred weight, and it was beginning to take a harsher toll on you now more than ever with Kiri around all the time

It was easier to ignore it when you lived by yourself in secluded bliss, where the walls of where you lived couldn’t talk or pass judgement about your eating habits, the times you did or didn’t keep up with yourself as months of promising to do the Chloe Ting workouts turned into forgetful reminders that dwindled down into barely passing thoughts.

Where you had your own, carefully chosen friends who could relate and share the secrets of their insecurities, the little area of pudge that just won’t go away, that upper area of their arms of legs that refused to build muscle even after months of eating straight protein and going to the gym.

You got to choose your own happiness, you got to choose if you wanted to spend countless hours scrolling through social media with your coworkers, gazing in envy at the hundreds of models people swooned over, or if you wanted to call it a day and eat a whole bucket of cookies and cream ice cream while watching a sappy rom com, just because it made you happy

But now, not so much

You could tolerate Kiri gradually distancing yourself from friends who he thought didn’t have the “best interests” for you

You could patiently follow the chipper rules of his house to wait for him when he got home, greet him at the door in nice clothes, and sit down to eat dinner with him

You even started getting used to having his eccentric, loud friends over who bustled and teased you around when Kiri invited them over for a boys night even if that “boys night” ended in them being hurriedly ushered out as he caught a glimpse of you in an accidentally-provocative apron

But your sanity and self worth was slowly started to snap like an overstretched rubber band when it came to trusting your body. Your mutinous, betraying body that just didn’t do what you fucking wanted it to do, that was constantly compared to the models friends Kirishima would bring around, like Mina and Jirou

They were angels, of course, so, so sweet to you

Constantly reassuring you that the new dress your captor boyfriend practically shoved you in in his eagerness to see you in red (his color) fit oh so well on you

They tried to convince you that no, the dress wasn’t stretched too tight on you to be considered healthy, and no, it didn’t need to be shrank in some places either

They tried, they really did

Unfortunately for them however, their relentless support didn’t hold a candle’s light to the body builders and Pilates instructors Kiri would model with for health magazines almost every month

They could never understand what it was like to be in constant doubt and shame when you feel your seemingly mismatched figure, their bodies reflecting healthy proportions in every nook and corner, skin and smooth and soft as a baby’s, with glowing reflections of perspiration

And you always seemed like the only poor unfortunate soul who sat in the corner, sulking and watching ripped muscles and leaned, toned limbs mingle amongst each other to socialize and effortlessly slide inside various apparel that of course fit their body and shaped them in ways you couldn’t even dream of

And it didn’t help that night after night, Kiri would hold you on his lap, bouncing his eager knee as he shoveled bite after bite of food into your unwilling mouth

He infantilized the hell out of you, convinced you were too naive and self-loathing to see your true beauty and how he had to take it on himself to show you what he saw in you

It made you feel pathetic, and helpless. Maybe that’s what you were though, maybe that’s really what he was trying to show you

You felt like you deserved it, anyways

So you stand there, on the weighing machine, feeling the last shreds of self confidence slip down and out of your body, akin to the light tears that splash on the marble bathroom floor.

“Babe? What’re you doing?”

Aw, fuck

You quickly brushed away your tears and stifled your imminent sobs to avoid being coddled as usual by the gentle giant who stood behind you

It frustrated him to no end, no doubt. It didn’t matter how often he’d sit you down and kiss you all over, letting you know how much he loved every precious inch of your body, it didn’t matter how gently he’d cradle your face to force you to look into his eyes just to tell you how beautiful you were, how lucky he is to have kidnapped you

It was never enough for your fragile heart, and he saw it in the way you flinched under his praise and shrunk under his loving gaze that raked over your body that he compared to an angel’s

As if you thought he was a liar, just saying it for your sake

As if you didn’t believe his words, as if you didn’t want to believe his words

As if you were disobeying him

“It-its nothing Kiri, just PMS,” you mumbled, the snot in your nose making you sound nasaly and shaky

“Your period was two weeks ago, and none of your symptoms have ever made you throw up.” He says with a raised eyebrow, his arms crossing as he leans against the doorframe

So he did see you slip out after dinner and head straight for the toilet, huh?

Busted

If he wasn’t so worried about you, he would’ve ditched the mild tone kept up for your sake and had you bent over one knee with a red ass just for lying to him

But from the way you quickly step off the scale and attempt to squeeze past him tells him you aren’t just being hard-to-get, you’re not in one of your resistance fits

And he thinks he knows exactly what’s causing you to not-so-subtly shift your eyes from the weighing scale back to your own body, as if you hadn’t already been doing that for weeks now

He just has to make sure

“Did someone say something to you?” He catches your arm and gently yet firmly prevents you from slipping past him outside the bathroom, away from him

“No, no, seriously I just felt sick, I think I ate something weird,” you try to laugh breezily but the waver in your voice does nothing but further increase Kirishima’s aching heart for you

“You sure? ‘Sure I don’t need to go talk to someone who maybe said the wrong thing to you?” And although his cheerful voice holds nothing but playful jest, the dark glint in his eye does nothing to indicate that all he wants is a friendly talk, especially when he tightens his grip on your arm and pulls you so close that you’re nose to nose with him, looking right at him with tears eyes and flushed cheeks

There’s no point in pretending anymore. He might seem like an airhead, but he’s not one of the city’s top hero because of his airy, gentle nature

“Ugh, no Kiri, no one said anything to me. I just…” you trail off, not wanting to feel the inevitable embarrassment you’ll feel when you tell him the truth

How disgusting you feel when you see his buff, toned, chiseled body that’s akin to a Greek God’s compared to yours

How you long to secretly have the right figure to one day be worthy enough to be deemed his partner in a modeling gig, just once, just to feel like you’re worthy of him and his equivalently built body, a body that reflects hard work and perseverance

Something you seldom see or feel in your own mass of distorted limbs

“What is it?” He pleads softly, begging you to let him fix anything for you, to let him be a man good enough for you

You look into his ruby red eyes that hold a puppy-in-love expression, and when you find only adoration for you in them, you can’t help yourself for falling into the trust and care you so desperately want in that moment

“I’m…so tired of not feeling good about myself. About feeling overweight, underweight, seeing bits of pudge and flab in one area and then seeing some thin and gangly areas in others. Like, I just want my body to be normal, to be healthy like all the people you model with. I feel like nothing I do or eat or wear makes my body look how I want it to look, and no matter how much I try it’s so hard for me to see the beauty of what you see in it.”

And finally you can’t bear looking at him anymore, so you squeeze your eyes shut and turn away

Much to his credit, he pulls you in and nestles your head against his chest, letting your tears and snot wet his tank top

“Oh hun, is that all this is?”

You roll your eyes and try to pull back from his chest, but he doesn’t allow it as he simply holds you there, shushing you and rocking you back and forth

“Kiri, that’s a pretty big thing for me.”

“I know, but…why are you so concerned about how they look anyways? I mean, that’s their job, right? To look good for pictures!”

“I don’t understand,” your voice comes out muffled against his shirt.

“What I’m saying is,” he chuckles and soothes a hand through your hair, “is that you shouldn’t compare yourself to people that have nothing to do with your daily life. Like, you wouldn’t compare yourself to a firefighter right? ‘Cuz thats their job, to save people, not yours. Similarly with models and shit, that’s their job to look good. You didn’t sign up to be a model, so you shouldn’t stress yourself to look like them. Plus, it’s not like it has any affect on what kind of person you are on the inside, you feel me? I’ve met some pretty nasty and rude people with killer bodies, but can you guess how much respect I had for them?”

You nod slowly, still not fully grasping his confusing logic but sort of getting the underlying meaning to it

“But it’s hard not to compare my body to theirs when you’re constantly around them.” You admit. “It feels like I’m not good enough either to be next to you when I’m just sitting on my ass, not doing anything” You grip his shirt and let the last of your tears out, accepting his soft and heavy hands stroking against your back and up and down your shoulders

“So? Do you ever see Sero or Denki modeling next to me? Or Mina and Jirou?”

He did have a point.

“No,” you say slowly.

“Exactly, because models and bodybuilders have a job to dedicate themselves to a life of working out. They do it because that’s what a majority of their life goes to get paid for. It’s all superficial, that’s not how the average person is, like the friends I mentioned. Otherwise the whole world would be full of people walking around with ripped abs and giant pecs. Could you imagine some lanky dude like Denki sporting a 12-pack and ripped pecs?”

“Hell no,” you laugh breathlessly, the image so horrifying to you both that you feel the vibrations of his boisterous laughter rumble through you and soothe your emotions.

“Now you’re getting it,” he speaks into your hair, the smell of your shampoo flooding his senses and getting him dizzy along with a treacherously rising boner

“Plus, what kind of man would I be if I picked my girl out just because of the way she looked? I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re beautiful-no, beautiful can’t even begin to describe you. Your palms feel so soft compared to mine, your arms are so beautiful when my hands are wrapped around them, your thighs are just the right size, your stomach is such a comfy pillow for me to lay on, and don’t forget your plush, slick, tight pu-“ he rambles on and you can’t help but yelp and clap a hand over his overworked mouth as his shower of body positivity starts turning more lewd…attesting to the bulge you begin to feel pressing against your leg.

But it’s funny, you can’t seem to find yourself being mad at him as your face flushes and you see not ill-intent and perverseness in his warm eyes, but pure and honest devotion to you and to the words he truly means

It softens your heart, and you use a finger from the hand smushing against his mouth to lift and stroke the side of his cheek, conveying your gratitude to him.

It seems he understands, as he takes his forced moment of silence with patience and just looks at you, hoping this time you could really see what he felt for you.

“The thing is,” he says after a minute, gently taking your hand away and turning you around so that you both were facing the mirror, “I love you because of who you are. If I wanted to date some model, I would’ve done it by now, trust me,” and you swat your hand against his chest as he stifles a laugh and turns you to look at your own reflection in the mirror.

“I didn’t take you just for your body. I took you because of the way you smile, the way your laugh is so soft sometimes and then all roudy and crazy and loud the next. I love you because of how passionate you talk about the things you like, the way you deal with problems, the way you treat others. All these things make me want you, so damn bad.”

He lightly rocks his hips into your backside so you can really feel how much he wants you, and you let out a soft gasp

He doesn’t let you move, however, he just holds one wrist in his meaty palm and holds your jaw in the other, positioning you so that you meet his wondrous gaze in the clear reflection.

He knew he was never known to be the smartest in his class, having Bakugo drag him by the teeth to pass class itself, so he hoped you could overlook his lack of vocabulary that so desperately was trying to tell you that loving you went even beyond anything he could barely articulate.

Leaning towards your ear, his breath tickles your lobe as his sharp teeth graze over your goosebump-riddled flesh.

“And if it takes all night to show you how much you and your perfect body mean to me, I’ll gladly take out any words that don’t do the job and show you physically how I feel. And just the way you are, too.”

If there’s one man who could not give one less of a fuck about how dainty, small, feminine, or easy to handle you may or not be, it’s the birdman himself: Hawks

Running errands with him when he allowed it was hell, though it should’ve been a paradise you felt owed for.

It was bad enough that when you hesitantly asked him what would look good enough to wear when you walked next to him as the Number Two hero’s captive girlfriend, he merely shrugged and said “Whatever you want.”

Which was not of any help, due to his excessive mood swings and possessiveness spiking at the most seemingly harmless things, such as you talking to the checkout worker at a branded store, wearing a skirt that he deemed was for “sluts who put out for attention”, or even not looking directly at him enough when he was talking to you.

So just to play it safe, you decided to wear jeans and a cute blouse, one that you thought did well for your figure and yet remained modest enough for Keigo’s liking.

He gave you a warning look before opening the door outside, silently telling you to behave yourself in public

You always did, of course.

It was never enough to keep him less suspicious of you regardless.

Deciding to bag some groceries first, he kept a tight grip with your hand as you both inconspicuously tried to navigate the winding back alleys, avoiding people and waiting in intervals to pass the street

He had a black cap on with a red feather embroidered at the top, sunglasses and a beige and white jacket that had a high collar for covering his face-you might be lucky to have the freedom to wear what you wanted to a certain extent but Hawks wasn’t so lucky

His wings, of course, couldn’t be concealed regardless of what he wore

The two of you luckily manage to snag a few stores here and there, the groceries in both his and your arms weighing down on your bodies, his feathers doing little aid to help when his wings started sagging under the bulk as well

Which is where you both were finally caught by a gaggle of fangirls

You passed the cafe they gathered around outside, and barely had time to register their squints of suspicion at Hawks and his poorly-shrunken vermillion wings before you heard squeals of recognition coming from their group a couple feet back

He swore under his breath, crushing your hand in a death grip and attempting to speed up further away from them

But the Number Two hero wasnt fast enough for his own good, this time

It was almost inhuman how quickly they caught up to you and swarmed around, effectively cutting you two off from trying to escape

They shoved papers, phones, various body parts and markers in his face, trying to get him to sign each and every article they had on themselves

And poor you were caught in the midst of it, being carelessly jostled around as each girl tried to force her way closer to him

The volume of their excited devotion and praise of him was making your head hurt, and you wondered how Hawks was managing to put up such a flawless, easygoing smile and responding to all their questions and comments without having a panic attack or snapping at them

After a minute or two of pure chaos, with the help of numerous feathers the hero-now-victim finished most of the autographs.

“Well, girls, thank you so much for your support and time, but me and my lady should get going now-“

“-wait, that’s your girlfriend?” One asks pointing at you in disbelief

You give her a weak smile and little wave

“Yup, the one and only!” Hawks beams at you with pride, holding you in an endearing headlock

“Wow…you guys are so cute!” Another chimes in after a few moments of silence, and you try your hardest not to fall into your same old patterns, to not embrace your old thoughts and insecurities with such open arms

But old habits die hard, and they certainly aren’t dead yet

Especially when the first girl thrusts a shiny phone at you, fluttering her lashes and baring her teeth in a poor imitation of a smile. “Would you be a dear and take a picture of all of us with him?”

“Uhh, sure, yeah, no problem.” You decide that getting this whole ordeal over quicker would be the best option for you

But as quick as you want this to pass, you can’t help but take an extra second to see the difference in your hands and hers when you take the phone from her hand

While her smooth, small and soft hands are seemingly unmarked, her acrylics accentuating her feminine form, you feel as though your larger ones should hide in shame in comparison

You’re not a slob, not by any means when you go out with him. But what was previously just you feeling comfortable in your own skin of knuckle hair, cuticles here and there, and nails bitten short from the cold stand anxiety of living with such a volatile man starts to turn into a realization of how different you are to these people who are trimmed to perfection

You shake off the sinking feeling in your heart and back up with the phone as the rest of the girls and Keigo line up for posing

The details in the phone camera do nothing to ease your growing timidity

The screen reflects what you see right in front of you- smooth hair, not a frizzy strand in sight blowing with the wind, perfectly manicured hands that are so delicate and small compared to your boyfriends’ gripping his upper arms, desperate to feel the hero’s assets.

They’re all at a perfect height with him too, the heels and boots they wear so easily lining them up at his chest level so they have a perfect view of his pecs and upwards

All of them are so beautiful and uniform, so dainty and careful with themselves. If one of them said that they were dating Hawks, you’d believe that they were worthy of it too

You snap the picture and hand the device over, trying to hide your trembling bottom lip and frigid hands

The girls thank Hawks a plethora of times, give you some once-overs as well as slight sneers and faux waves, and you both head on your way back home again

You’re quiet that night while making dinner

It’s chicken pad thai, one of his favorite dishes handmade by you

No matter how shit you feel your cooking is, he insists you make him a 3 course meal while he takes a shower, leaving a feather behind to watch over you

Usually it’s fine, usually you ignore or absentmindedly swat away the plumage’s less-than-innocent rendezvous trailing around your body, floating behind your neck to tickle you, “accidentally “ falling in your shirt or wedging itself down your pants (no doubt commanded so by Hawks)

But today, it’s silent and still, precariously perched on the edge of the kitchen counter as it observed and picks up the various sounds and vibrations of your movement as you bustle around the kitchen

It picks up on the way you chop the onions a little too aggressively with your large, clumsy fucking hands

Another reminder of how different you are than the average Hawks Fangirl ™

How they sashay and swing their hips around in a perfect circle when approaching him, while you stumble and trip over your own damn feet, the epitome of clumsiness and gracelessness

The feet which never endow heels or boots often because of the height difference it gives you and Keigo, because of the way you try desperately to adorn different slouches and postures to not look so out of place and awkward around him

And while you’re stirring the pasta in its sauce, the feather also picks up on the rhythm of your shattered heart

Shattered so when you remember how the girls sneered at you because you weren’t femme fatale like them, how you just stood there like a fucking mannequin while they cooed well placed praise, and how eloquent sentences flowed from their tongue like honey

You could only wish you ever spoke like they did, or adopted any of their mannerisms that seemed so natural and effortless like them

Your aching heart thudded dully while you scrutinized your miserable self, and flared up into a kicking rate when you realized you shouldn’t even care what your captor or any of his fan girls thinks

In fact, this was all his fault.

You slammed your mixer down, tapping your fingers against the countertop deep on thought

The vibrations the feather picked up was the last straw of its patience, as it alerted its owner to come and address you

Mumbling under your breath at your predicament, you banged around pots and spoons in your anger, failing to notice the plumage silently join its approaching owner, the water from his shower dripping down his wet shoulders and hair

“What’s goin’ on chickadee? It sounds like you’re tryina’ tear down the kitchen.”

You barely spare him a glance over your shoulder as you take in his bare torso, only a towel wrapped around his midriff

“Nothing. Just finishing up dinner,” you mumble.

“It doesn’t sound like nothing. It sounds like your hearts racing a mile a minute. So I’ll ask you again- what are you so upset?”

He yanks a stirring spoon from your hand and uses his grand wings to turn you towards him, a condescending pout on his face as he amusedly takes in your furrowed eyebrows, heated up cheeks and shaking fists.

He wants to keep pushing me? Fine, then I can play his little game

“You wanna know why I’m upset? I’m upset because I’m here against my will, creating problems for myself that I never even wanted in the first place!”

You jab a finger into his chest and his eyes narrow at your impertinent tone.

“Now wait a sec’-“ but you cut him off immediately, nose to nose with him now as you continue to blare at him

“I’m upset because I never feel fucking good enough for my kidnapper. How pathetic is that? Any time I have to beg you on all fours like a fucking dog to go outside I end up regretting it, ‘cause all I see is how flawed I am!”

He’s staring at you with wide eyes now, actually bewildered at the turn your ranting came to. So it’s not just about being kept here against your will, you’re actually upset about not feeling good enough for him?

“Those girls today…they were so perfect and feminine and beautiful and they had such small fucking hands that would fit perfectly in yours like mine never do, and perfectly pedicured feet, and had such pretty voices, fuck, I mean I’d date them too if I were you!”

You ignore the rage and bafflement in his expression, he looks at you like you’re crazy and maybe for the moment you are as you keep mouthing off to him

“So why don’t you, huh? I mean I only go out with you a couple times a year, but you see them almost every day! Girls who have hair that flows like goddamn waterfalls, girls who you could pick up and throw around so easily or at least girls you’re not embarrassed of.”

“I’m clumsy, I can’t walk with grace, I’m not at a height that’s easy for you to look at me with or thats even considered sexy, I probably don’t even weigh anything around you that people would call worthy of being some fit bitch for you!”

At this, you sink to your knees in front of him, almost spent out. You can’t bear for him to see your face, no doubt scrunched up in tears and snot with mussed strands hovering around your face like you just got electrocuted.

Another thing to ridicule yourself about, a fucking crying face. You don’t want him to see another ugly trait about you that he no doubt will snicker about behind your back.

“Isn’t that why you never let me out? Because I’m not cute or good material for tabloids, right? I don’t look good enough or act right for the Number Two hero, and that’s why you’re embarrassed, right? It’s been so long since I tried to last leave so I know you trust me-that means the only reason you hate going out with me and covering yourself up is because you can’t stand to be seen with such a fugly-“

“That’s enough.” His cold voice booms louder than yours, and you startle at that.

“Look at me, Y/N.” The tone at which he speaks leaves no room for argument, but when you continue to look down he snarls and detaches a feather, forcing your head up with it.

“You keep calling yourself all these things, but don’t tell me that moronic is another word you’re gonna add on, right? I mean you can’t possibly be that stupid enough to believe all those things you just said.”

You glare at him, sure that this was just a way for him to get you to shut up.

“I thought living with the Number Two hero would let some intellect rub off on you, but I guess it’s the complete opposite, if anything. Because you seem to have forgotten your place in my house.”

You yelp when suddenly a multitude of other feathers zoom towards you, pulling at your limbs and clothes as they lift you into the air, suspended to a height a couple of feet above Hawks’ eye level.

He just stands there with an eerie smirk on his face as he watches you flail around midair, trying to regain your balance.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re 6’3 and have bigger hands than me.”

With a flick of his finger, the feathers are directed to slam your body into the ground, leaving you wheezing on your back.

“And it doesn’t matter if you’re 4’7 and fall over yourself every time I call for you.”

He stands above you now, hands in his pockets and he smiles down at your curled up body. You look at him cautiously, unsure of what he’s playing at.

“You’re mind because I want you. I want everything about you, your heart, your mannerisms, your soul, your movements-they all belong to me and only me.”

He crouches down to a kneel, gently running a hand through your hair before turning it into a fist and yanking your head up to face him.

“And there isn’t a goddamn thing that’s gonna stop me from having you, when I want, and how I want. You think you have a chance of leaving me, or me leaving you when I, in your words, ‘go out and see beautiful girls like that all the time?’ If I haven’t left you for them by now, I sure as hell never will.”

You decide for now to take the backhanded compliment about being able to leave in silence. In a messed up way, he was proving his loyalty, and right now you needed all the reassurance you could get.

“And why the hell do you care how you look in public anyways, huh? Are you trying to seduce someone?”

You frantically object, and he sneers at your desperation. “Good, because it should only matter what I think, and you wanna know what I think?”

You stare at him wide eyed now as he pulls your head closer to him

“I don’t give a flying fuck if you think you’re some foxy slut or if you feel like a clumsy oaf. Because you wanna know why?”

He starts unzipping his fly with a handy feather, and you mentally berate yourself for pushing him to a point where he has to ‘prove his love’ to you, knowing where this was heading.

“Because when you’re sucking my cock or lying underneath me, it doesn’t matter how tall or short you are. When I tell you to take your clothes off and hump my foot like the good little bitch in heat you are, I don’t care how much you weigh. I’m still choosing you to be my fuckmeat, my obedient play-toy when I want, and I’m doing it with all your ‘flaws’, aren’t I? ”

You cringe when his tongue flicks out against your earlobe and down your jaw, your endeavors of trying to shove him away proving fruitless as he just snarls and bites your neck.

“Even if you think you don’t have the prettiest, smallest, biggest, or smoothest hands, they’re still the hands I’m choosing to play with my balls, yeah? I mean, you should be proud of your fucking sexy and lewd body…look at what it does to me.”

He gestures to his exposed member now which is hard against your thigh. You bite back a whimper as he begins to tear open your shirt with one free hand as the other slips down your pants.

“So be a good girl and show me how proud you are of being mine.”

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tenkasato · 4 years ago

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bruh i need some fluffy crack about crackheaded reader making jokes about finding sukuna’s personality hot.... and gojo’s (their s/o) reaction to that. maybe reader joke flirting with sukuna and gojo seeing this? even better if reader asks (half unironically) gojo to have a threesome with sukuna lol

Well, this took a quite a while. I'm still trying to navigate the Tumblr features so I found this quite late. Sorry for the wait! Hope you enjoy this and thanks for the ask!

Gojo Satoru was not insecure.

The exorcism had been tougher than anyone had anticipated, he heard. The first years had fought with their lives on the line just to subdue the threat. Apparently the curse possessed one of Sukuna's fingers, and it was only when Megumi sustained life-threatening damage that they realized the gravity of the situation. Thankfully, you came just in time to subjugate the enemy.

You were by no means weak. In fact, you had earned Satoru's respect far earlier than others did. He acknowledged your strength, but most especially your quick-wittedness. Able to assess the circumstances in a nick of time. Able to work with whatever was in your hands to act on the problem. That was you, and heck, was your boyfriend the proudest of that.

He adored you dearly, held you like a precious gem in his hands. He couldn't remember being this in love with you the first time you went out. But as it was, you were his drug and he was getting more and more addicted to you.

Hence, when you, his muse and his beloved, came out of the fray in the arms of none other than Ryomen Sukuna, he flinched at the foreign emotion that surged within him.

No, Gojo Satoru was not insecure. There was no reason to be.

"You owe me one, little bird," Sukuna said, bringing you closer than you were comfortable with. "Had I not interfered, you would've been dead meat now."

"Had you not interfered, I would've commenced the plan I had and won on my own," you shot back venomously. "I didn't need your help, King."

Sukuna roared with laughter, the sound of it grating at Satoru's nerves. "It's been a while I've been given such reverence. Well, aren't you going to thank me? Plan or no plan, that doesn't change the fact that I saved your pretty ass."

Satoru watched you twist your face into a scowl. He was itching to walk over to where you were and snatch you back from this demon, but he waited and convinced himself that---yes, you could handle it just fine. And no, he wasn't insecure. And no, he was most definitely not jealous.

He remembered you saying that you found Sukuna's voice incredibly sexy one time. You even went as far as saying Sukuna was probably going to be a better lover than he was. He knew of course that you had said that just to spite him for watching a rated 18+ movie (ONLY for the plot, he insisted). He had been unaffected and he probably deserved it. He just didn't expect it to come biting at his butt now.

Suddenly, you pulled out the sweetest smile Satoru's ever seen. You ran your finger from the monster's cheek to his lower lip. Sukuna, obviously thrilled, smirked at that.

"You think I'm pretty?" you purred.

Sukuna's smirk grew, "I said your ass, but little bird, pretty is indeed you."

Slowly, you brought your face closer and closer, until---

"HEY."

---your man made his grand entrance.

With his palm pressed against Sukuna's face, he shoved the guy and took you away. Satoru's arm was secured around your waist, holding you like a cat and away from Sukuna's reach. Satoru tilted his head and stared Sukuna down menacingly despite his covered eyes.

"Lay one more of those nasty fingers on her and you're going to get it," he said, tone chilly and promised of torture.

"Hey, Satoru---" you began.

"Gojo-sensei!" You felt instant relief when you heard Itadori's own voice coming out his mouth.

"Itadori," Satoru said in a warning tone, "Would you mind telling me why you let Ryomen Sukuna run rampant like that?"

Itadori bowed as low as he could with Satoru's hand still on his face. "I---I'm sorry! I didn't---"

"Satoru, let Itadori-kun go," you ordered sternly. It took the white-haired sorcerer a few more seconds of glaring before he relented and released his student. Itadori muttered another string of apologies and dashed past you two in a mad rush. You watched him run towards his friends and the medics and sighed.

"Mind letting me go now?" you asked, your feet still dangling in the air.

Satoru only tightened his hold in response, "Mind telling what that was about?"

You rolled your eyes even if he couldn't see you from behind and grumbled, "I was about to bite his nose hard. It's not like I was going to kiss him."

"Bite him?" Satoru spluttered. "That's very intimate!"

"It was to keep him away! Now let me go," you groaned and successfully pushed yourself from him.

Hands on hips, you glared at him. By the frown on his lips, you could tell he didn't buy it. In a strange moment of serendipity, a thought crossed your mind. You suppressed the giggle of delight, knowing full well that it wasn't going to be taken nicely but was definitely going to be worth the shot.

Letting your hands fall to the side, you took a step closer and placed a hand on Satoru's nape. To his surprise, you pulled him closer to kiss his ear lobe.

"Actually," you whispered. "I have a proposal, Satoru. Something that would benefit you, me and Sukuna."

Your seductive tone did not fall to deaf ears, and before you knew it, Satoru was pulling away from you, cheeks tinted red. It pleased you to see him this flustered, given that it was always you who got flustered by him. Sweet, sweet revenge.

"You---you don't mean---" he stammered.

"Hmm?" you cup your ear mockingly.

"You can't have suggested something as lewd as that!" Satoru exclaimed, thoroughly flushed. You didn't know if he was mad, but the fact that you got him to behave this way was enough.

Cutting the act, you sneered at him and shoved his chest. Swivelling around, you waved your hand.

"That's what you get for watching porn when I'm around," you threw out.

"I told you it wasn't porn! It's a legally distributed, well-known movie with great plot---" he paused, dumbfounded. "Wait, was all that just for revenge?"

You shrugged nonchalantly.

"Hey! Wait, that's too much!" he whined. "Sweetheart, hey! I'm sorry, I won't do it again!"

You continued walking away while hiding the amused smile on your lips.

He wouldn't dare watch anything else now when you're around.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #gojo satoru x you #sukuna x you #jjk #jjk fanfic #gojo satoru #ryomen sukuna #anon reply #ask tenkasato

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siriusmydeer · 4 years ago

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a muster of courage

sirius black x muggleborn!gender neutral!reader

summary: sirius is determined to help you through your insecurities.

word count: 1.0k

warnings: self doubt, insecurities, mentions of sirius family, mentions of feeling dumb, crying, hurt/comfort? idk i wrote this when i was half asleep

it was nearly silent, the dormitory left with one remaining student where the only noises could be heard were the scratches of a quill colliding against a parchment, small sniffs emitting from your nostrils after the wipe of your palm against your nose, and the small hiccups rolling off your tongue after the newest submerge of tears you were susceptible too.

the feeling of hot tears descending from your optics and carving their way down the flesh of your cheeks, the small streaks of stygian black almost embedding into your skin whilst you stared upon the parchment in front of you.

the scratches abruptly went silent, your quill was thrown to the side of your mahogany desk. the small smear of ink following in the ivory quills wake. the contrast of black and white was the only thing remaining in your viewpoint from the cascaded tears that were now sinking into the parchment.

your digits now painted in smudges onto the pads of the fingers that were left to stain. a minuscule aide-memoire till you showered of your failures.

there was an inappreciable creak articulating from the door hinges of your dormitory, similar to a small cue that someone had entered. a few padded footsteps following in its aftermath, your mind utterly ignoring the entry. the bleating sirens in your head only taking it upon themselves to stare upon the essay you were practically refusing to complete frustration.

a meagrely recurrent sniff escaped your nose, subtle congestion building up in your sinus’ from the downpour of grievance that waved through the panel of your nervous system whilst you lingered your bleary stare upon the paper.

you felt the warmth of a calloused palm splayed on the frigid temperature of your cheek, looking ascent you were met with a pair of sterling irises. the agile look of confusion sprawled across sirius’ face in reaction to your weary state.

he caressed your face with the warm pad of his thumb, the homely feeling melding into your skin, bringing your erratic heart rate to distrait peace for just a moment. his brows sunk to the middle of his face, small creases started to imbed in his forehead before speaking, “baby, baby, what’s happened?” the words spilled off his tongue in a jumble of letters thoroughly coated in fright at the tears trudged down your cheeks.

sirius knelt to your level, his knees hitting the floorboard with a subtle creaking in the wood. his thumb faintly swiping against the dermis of your skin, gathering the tears that remained streaked onto your flesh. the peach hue of his skin was a swirling mix of shades against the mascara that had been smeared under my eyes now reveling against the pad of his thumb.

it felt like there was a continuous ping pong ball bouncing around in your brain, resembling a sled hammer that was rough around the edges knocking on every nook and cranny there was in your mind, from the continued amount of tears that had spilled from your irises that now lay on the ivory parchment.

it felt like you were close to deteriorating, this occurring feeling from the spillage that left your irises. this perception was equivalent to an inability to apprehend your schoolwork that had been assigned to your classmates, that you were downright useless and unable to partake in the school you had attended for years.

similar to how a fifth-grade muggle student would be compared to albert einstein in a classroom setting, no muggle-born was made for a school for primary and elite wizard families like lucius malfoy or regulus black. you may as well have been a muggle.

there was a faint voice that brought you out of your demeaning thoughts, “what’s going on in that head of yours?” he faintly whispered in delicacy of your state. you looked down in shame, he was a pureblood, gryffindor prankster and the only people who had problems with him had demeaning envy to be him.

you had considered yourself lucky, out of all the peers of hogwarts he had grasped your hand with intimacy and called you, his. now you sat alone in your room weeping in self-pity over your inability to understand certain concepts of defense against the dark arts.

“i just feel, i feel so utterly useless! that i’m just a foolish muggle-born who can’t do anything right, and those pureblood gits are right about me!” you spastically hiccuped between your words, the spillage of letters coming directly from your subconscious insecurities in-front of the gryffindor male.

your words almost medley and weltered from how dreadfully daft you felt.

sirius's eyes were enormously wide at your shameful confession you had just admitted, his voice stuttering before he spoke. “useless— you belong here more than anyone else, muggle-born or not. 'm here to help, i may be daft at school but i’ll learn, for you. you're not stupid, nor useless!”

it took a considerable amount of time to scrummage his words from the palpitating muscle in his chest to you. the indescribable urge to muster his adorning love for you was indefinite, but the blockage of his past having a considerable amount of weight on his shoulders making it particularly difficult at times like these to describe his feelings.

“baby. 'm gonna help you, you don’t need to go through this by yourself.”

the delicacy of his crooning made your heart skip a beat, the maneuvering of his body so you could sit on the burly muscles of his thigh in an attempt to get you in a more comfortable setting.

there would always be a swirling fear of failure weighed on the platter of your subconscious mind, but the gryffindor boy would always endeavor the courage to tap on your nose and remind you that your entity wasn’t purely being a muggle-born.

and you were to remember his words every time.

taglist: @fific7 @wisedreamcatcher @kittykylax @ronbrokemyheart @aspiringsloth20 @georgeswh0re @amourtentiaa @msmb @fangouria @five-cups-of-coffee @dracofknmalfoy @emmaev @serenitywilderness @i-love-scott-mccall @artemis1orion @falling-loki @siriusbarnesslut @inglourious-imagines @famdomhideout @hufflepogue @kirascottage @luvvninaz @miraclesoflove @black-like-my-soul @slytherclawbitch

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dorizardthewizard · 3 years ago

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@wavebiders enabled my Fate Hate like a month ago so here it is, I’ve used the anti tag so block that if you don’t want to see Fate criticism.

Anyway after watching it thoroughly I’ve realised there’s something fascinatingly sad about the thought process that went behind writing the characters. Like, I always wondered how they could get it so wrong to the point where the Winx are literally opposites of their cartoon selves, but now I think they basically just skimmed their wiki pages, identified a character’s secondary trait, then based their whole character around it by twisting it to fit into clichés and stereotypes. So what trait did they use to butcher each character? (warning for lots of sarcasm in this post)...

Bloom: Being the main character. Fate!Bloom actively worked to make the world spin around her; she never thought for a second that pursuing her personal mission to find the truth about her origins could put everyone in danger with the Burned Ones (it did), and she never offered to help any of her friends or even checked up on them. Hell, she has no relationship with any of the girls except Aisha, and that consists entirely of Aisha helping Bloom and keeping her in check. There’s a scene where Terra starts to open up about her insecurities and Bloom literally just sits there and stares at her until Terra changes the subject to Bloom’s problems!

Cartoon Bloom would never. A huge part of her character was that she cared so deeply for her friends: every time she went ballistic with power back in S1 happened because someone she loved was in danger; she gave the Ring of Solaria to the Trix to save Stella; she assured Aisha of her place in their group when she was upset… she could be stubborn and impulsive, sure, but she always put her friends first.

Stella: Her girliness. She’s blonde, royalty, and a fashionista. Fate writers zoned in on that, and, of course, decided that anyone with those qualities has got to be a stuck-up mean girl. The originality, the progressiveness of it all 😍😍 This warped Fate!Stella into being the literal opposite of OG Stella, whose best qualities were her friendly cheerfulness and how ride-or-die she was for her friends. Yes, OG Stella could be insensitive at times, but she always worked to make up for it. Fate!Stella on the other hand, doesn’t apologise once to a single person for her behaviour, and we’re supposed to believe she’s good friends with them in the end? Throwing in a sob story doesn’t make it an organic development, writers.

Musa: Her tomboyishness. A trait that has admittedly faded a bit since her season 1 jeans and trainers look, but still. Okay, so she’s gonna be more masculine. What does masculine mean? Oh, yes! Being super aloof and rude to others! It’s hilarious because OG Musa was probably the most emotional one of the group, she felt deeply and was moved when she could feel the music in peoples’ hearts. Fate!Musa does have that connection to other peoples’ emotions, but she resents it.

Aisha: Honestly it looks like the writers thought being black is a personality trait. And that obviously means you have to be the support for your white main character, duh! Meanwhile in the original, it was the Winx that were helping Aisha – they assisted in rescuing the pixies, welcomed her into their group and comforted her when she needed it. Of course, she’s very independent and capable on her own, but it was nice to see a strong female character that wasn’t cold and standoffish, and her vulnerabilities gave her more nuance and layers to her character.

Aisha’s loneliness was a big part of her character but in Fate, she’s the one who constantly reaches out to others. You could kind of connect this to the original, like how she spied on Helia (something she wasn’t entirely comfortable with) just to stay friends with Flora, but that connection is never made because her entire backstory of being a princess growing up in a strict environment gets flushed down the toilet. Nothing they do with her character in season 2 will change that.

Flora (try to tell me they didn’t mean for Terra to be Flora and I will steal your kneecaps): Her gentle nature? Okay, she doesn’t have much depth in the cartoon either, but I do find it funny how Fate!Flora’s niceness is seen as a nuisance to everyone else, and she’s constantly being disrespected. OG Flora was a bit of a mum friend to the rest, and while that didn’t mean the others never got annoyed at her, she most definitely was not the punching bag of the group. Instead, everyone admired her for her kindness, sensitivity and grace. Why did that have to change when they made her plus-sized? Oh wait, nevermind.

Tecna: I’m honestly surprised they didn’t include her, with how fake-woke they were being. I mean, it’s perfect - y’all had a girl with short pink hair and you didn’t make her the radical tumblr feminist redditors make up posts about? Maybe I should give them more credit, they didn’t zero in on her pink hair after all but noticed her interest in STEM and her logical, less emotional nature. Of course, girls like that don’t exist in real life, and Fate is REALISTIC.

#fate the winx saga #anti fate the winx saga #netwinx #it just bothers me because i see people claiming the characters are pretty much the same as in the OG just a bit darker maybe #but they only seem that way on the surface?#starting to wonder whether this is due to people consuming media as tropes and filing characters away into already-established archetypes in #their heads #like the characters are just so different how am i supposed to see it as winx??#my posts #winx club

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theodora3022 · 4 years ago

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Sheathed Claws (Part 1)

(Yandere Fukuzawa feat.Ranpo as his evil sidekick)

Summary: As a former Assassin himself, the formidable Silver Wolf Yukichi Fukuzawa can see through seemingly perfect disguises. You really should not have chosen ADA to work after fleeing the Order of the Clock Tower.

Notes: I wrote this instead of polishing my Tetchou fic, someone yells at me to do things in order- You can sense clear parental issues here, so enjoy! The reader’s ability is modelled after Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights, the ability to control air currents. She is a former assassin leader of the Order of Clock tower, her superior being Lady Agatha Christie. I could have wrote this as a full fic, but I got too excited about a Mori fic and just...went with easy way with this one. The next part would be out next week by the latest.

Special thanks to @killuwumi and @bungoose for beta reading this mess! You guys are the best :))

Warnings: Female reader, Power imbalance, possessive behaviours(in future chapters), mild yandere themes, Ranpo gives horrible relationship advices

You thought your facade is good enough, that your acquaintances are none the wiser. And you are correct, at least to a certain degree. But for a fellow former Assassin, it is not that difficult to decipher from the way you carry yourself. Fukuzawa, the president of your current organization, for one.

You had paid an old friend a good sum, who happens to be a government official, to cleanse your dirty past. Nobody would find anything now, not even yourself.

To avoid any suspicions, you created this bubbly innocent girl mask for your coworkers, to gain their trust so even if the Order finds out about you they would have a hard time pursuing you. You never were particularly close to anyone, even when you let Naomi come to your shopping trips from time to time after her endless pleas. “Your western style is just so cute! I want to try it!!” Of course, you cannot say no. Guess Lady Christie was right, if you wear a mask long enough it would fuse in with your true self.

You act just like any other secretary in the ADA, polite, properly-dressed, hardworking and always ready to pick up any agent’s slack on paperwork(mainly Dazai’s). He notices how you would blend well with the background with that quiet nature, your presence barely noticeable, just like what he used to be in his assassin days. You also have a sweet voice and would look up to him with those adorable feline-like eyes while reading meeting reports to him.

No, no Yukichi, she is your employee, not a stray kitten you encountered in a park. You cannot pat her on the head or squeeze her cheeks, it would be inappropriate. He had to scold himself so very often, whenever you smile to greet him at his desk or wish him a good evening when you leave work. Maybe that is why he hired you, a foreigner with little work experience in Japan.

Since you are only a clerk, Fukuzawa assumed you did not possess a special ability, therefore he did not bother to check your background thoroughly. However, there is something that distinguishes you from the norms like Kirako Haruno or Naomi Tanizaki. Your quick reflexes are unusual for a civilian. His suspicions were confirmed thanks to Ranpo.

When Ranpo accidentally pushed one of his donuts off the table, you snatched a napkin, crouched down and caught the pastry with one hand. All done within half a second, without dropping a single sheet of the files on your other hand. Even Ranpo was impressed and gave you a few words of praise. You responded with a sheepish smile, but that smile does not look so harmless to Fukuzawa anymore. That is when Fukuzawa took a particular interest in you, who are you really? Those moves would take years of training to mould into one’s instincts.

You have hidden pockets in that skirt? He could just be paranoid, but that size is enough to fit a mini-gun or a dagger. In fact, you do carry these things around, old habits die hard. Decades of Assassin life had made you insecure without a weapon to hold. But young women often carry self-defence mechanisms right? Surely you would need them since you are just so cute. Is he just overthinking things?

Using his connections, the ADA president got a copy of your records from the Government Database. But they are nothing out of the ordinary, almost too normal. Maybe you are just blessed with natural talents, not some government spy. Because that could mean big problems, as Fukuzawa hates the government to stick their noses into his Agency.

“(Y/n)-san? She is a nice girl. She is always willing to help out everyone with their troubles. Hah, one time she even went to drag Dazai out from a ditch!”

“When the powers are out, (y/n)-chan brought lots and lots of candles for us. I cannot be more grateful.”

“She loves sweets and would often bake me some! (y/n)-chan calls me her test subject for her confectionery arts, not that I mind as long as I get half of her chocolate cookies!”

Only words of praise and gratitude, Fukuzawa cannot seem to find a single bit of negativity related to you? You are so friendly towards everyone, no one ever saw you in a different mood other than cheerfully happy.

The more Fukuzawa learns about you, the more invested he becomes. Even though it started as an investigation, he had grown fond of you rather quickly. Soon enough he finds himself smiling back to your greetings and goodbyes, even sneaking gazes full of fondness when you were not noticing.

Hm, so the agency president had taken a special interest in you huh? That is better than ideal. Now you can sleep soundly at night without ten traps set up in your apartment. People usually protect what they love right? Now you got the powerful Silver Wolf, an elite swordsman as your bodyguard!

These little actions did not get past the observations of Ranpo Edogawa. You are pleasant to have around, and if you marry the president would mean you would never leave the ADA right? He can have those delicious sweets for the rest of his days! His sensei is happy, and he got an endless supply of delicious food, sounds like a win-win to him.

So when Fukuzawa asked him to use his Ultra Deduction on you, little Ranpo did not suspect a thing and gladly obliged.

“(y/n)-chaan is a skilled assassin, with at least ten years of experience...And served in the Order of the Clock Tower as one of their finest knights, but she is currently on exile.” Ranpo and Fukuzawa exchange a glance, mixed with shock and horror. Both stayed silent for a while, digesting the unbelievable truth Ranpo just dug up.

So, his hunch was correct. But how can you, a charming lady who would help the elderly to cross the street, would give up your seat on the train to pregnant women, would help out anyone in need used to be a cold-blooded assassin? (These are all classic kindness gestures in Asia, in case anyone is confused)

Can Fukuzawa imagine you in black tights(eh idk how this came up), ending people’s lives while lurking in the shadows? No, it is physically impossible. He lived that kind of life, how can you turn out to appear so innocent? Unless you hid your evils exceptionally well. This sends a chill down his spine, the thought of someone who can fool the entire Agency of intelligent agents…

You may not harbour any ill-will towards them yet, but you still pose a major potential risk regardless. You can feed the agents poisonous cakes and even Kunikida would eat them without question. Some precautions need to be taken.

“Sensei, you like (y/n)-chan, right? Why not take her in and watch her every move, make sure she is no threat?” Another win-win situation, if you ask Ranpo. You would have all the time in the world to bake! Wouldn't that be amazing?

His smart apprentice never disappoints.

#yandere #yandercore #yandere x you #yandere bsd #yandere fukuzawa #fukuzawa yukichi #bungou stray dogs fukuzawa #yandere fukuzawa x reader

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9tzuyu · 4 years ago

Text

run into me sunday pt. ii

pt. i

notes: i am yet again projecting my own issues in fics lmao. this isn’t my favorite work, but i wanted to make a second part. this is the result. all mistakes are mine as im too lazy to proofread :P.

warnings: heavy talk of having an eating disorder.

requests are open!

the first few of weeks at natasha's house were fine. you tried really hard not to think about all the changes happening. like being monitored 24/7, or having to abide by natasha's rules all the time, or knowing that you were growing to be healthy.

it was okay, at first.

you hardly put up a fight when it came down to her rules. even meal time seemed to go without a hitch.

but as many people have said before, all good things cone to an end.

the second you woke up today, you could already tell it wasn't going to be fun. everything you'd pushed aside came crawling back, and you could feel every insecurity of yours heighten a thousand times worse than before.

nat's arms rest gently around your waist, and while it normally felt reassuring, you couldn't help but notice the extra weight you'd put on.

you still felt overly full from last night. if natasha woke up right now, you were positive she could feel how expanded your stomach was.

(god, you did not want her to feel how bloated you still were.)

now you knew there was nothing wrong with having a stomach, especially one that wasn't flat or as unwell as yours had become. but it was your body, and your body felt wrong.

feeling natasha's breath on the back of your neck, you gingerly began removing her arm from your body. however, your plan quickly failed when natasha pulled you in closer, her grip tightening around you.

you bit your lip to suppress your cries. you needed out and you needed out right now.

things quickly became unbearable. the longer you felt trapped, the more your body began to tremble. and though you despised it, you turned around to face natasha, your head buried in the crook of her neck.

the thoughts were loud. much louder than they had been the past few weeks.

you tried to keep your cries to a low level, but that didn't seem to work. natasha awoke within the very same minute. her first instinct was to check on you, but seeing as tears were streaming down your face she knew what the problem was.

nat pulled you closer to her, letting her right hand rub the backside of your body in an attempt to calm you down.

"hey now, it's okay, it's alright. you're okay, you're safe, you're here. i'm here." you continued to sob, letting every detail of your own self hatred slip from your mouth.

natasha wasn't surprised at the outburst. she knew you would have days like this, more days would soon follow. that was reality. she didn't expect your recovery to be perfect, if it was then she would know you weren't really getting better – simply putting on weight to please her.

she couldn't take away your pain (although she wished she could), but she could be there, offer you her love and support, coax you through meals when you needed her to.

when you'd finally calmed down you turned away from her, suddenly embarrassed at how you acted. she could feel you tense back up again, a failed attempt at blocking her out.

it was nat, who were you to think she couldn't read you like an open book?

nonetheless, she kissed the back of your head and moved out from under the covers. "i'm going to make breakfast, i'll be back."

you sighed. breakfast was not an option.

but 15 minutes later natasha returned with a plate of eggs, toast and a cup of fruit on the side. she even made it all pretty and nice for you.

“up, y/n. i know you don't want to, but you have to eat.”

"no," you mumbled, bringing the blanket over your head. she tugged them away instantly, "yes."

"it's too early."

"you didn't say that yesterday-"

"well i'm saying it today, natasha. now fuck off."

natasha knew better than to take your words to heart. if anything, she found it rather entertaining to see just how far you'd go to try and push her buttons.

an idea came to mind, a negotiation, really.

"tell you what, no breakfast, but you have to eat lunch and three snacks between dinner."

you thought about it for a second before peeking from underneath the covers, "deal." natasha patted your side, "i'm only doing this because you've been doing so well these past few weeks. don't count on this deal happening again." she spoke thoroughly, the plate of food now on its way into the kitchen trash-bin.

while you laid in bed natasha texted wanda. the redhead thought it would be beneficial for the younger woman to pay a visit. she knew how close the two of you were and decided to invite her over. it wasn't much, but the idea of wanda coming over and (possibly) helping you in any shape or form was very reassuring to natasha.

wanda texted back almost instantly, informing her that she was just short of an hour out, having to stop for gas on the way. natasha thumbs up'd her message and began planning out the day.

before either of you knew it, it was 12 noon. lunch had approached sooner than expected. wanda and natasha easily got caught up in a conversation. the only thing keeping time was nat's alarm that set off.

"time to go wake y/n up," natasha giggled, although she knew you'd be a challenge today. wanda followed her, too excited to wait on surprising you with lunch.

"y/n! c'mon, a special someone is here to see you."

a groan could be heard from the bed as you up to see who was there. you smiled at the sight of wanda and she immediately brought you in for a squeeze-the-life-out-of-you hug.

you didn't miss her smile faltering when she let you go.

you were still just as boney and thin as you were when you left the compound. three weeks was nothing, but you swore you could feel every ounce of weight gain coming back.

wanda helped you out of bed, allowing you to lean on her as she guided you into the kitchen. it was a good thing too, because you were more light headed than usual.

"what are you doing here?" wanda smiled and pushed the already prepared plate of food towards you. it'd been a few minutes and you hadn't even touched your fork. "what? couldn't surprise you?" natasha giggled from your left. you already seemed to be in a much better mood with wanda around than you had been this morning. but both women caught onto the fact that you were only shoving the food on your plate, not making any effort at all to actually eat it.

nat tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, "you have to eat, you know the deal we made." her push was soft, but it didn't make things any easier.

you sighed, tightening the grip around your fork. things like this shouldn't be so hard. it was food. food is fuel, food is good, but somewhere in your mind those messages were twisted and crumpled into something that could never be more false.

you leaned into natasha, keeping your face shielded away from the plate. tears sprung into your eyes and you begged for her to not make you eat.

"tasha, just one day, please. i promise i'll eat tomorrow-"

"i wish that were true, i really do, sweetheart." nat rubbed your shoulder before pushing you back, forcing you to look her in the eyes. "i'm going to go grocery shopping and run a few extra errands. wanda will be here to watch you finish your meal and to have a snack or two before i get back. i love you, okay?"

(you knew she did. but holy fuck, why did she have to do this to you.)

"yeah, you too." and with that, natasha grabbed her keys, kissed you on the forehead and left.

you don't know why, but you didn't actually think wanda would listen to natasha. that belief was quickly thrown out when you moved to get up from the table, wanda quick to grab your wrist and stop you from going to far.

"stay. please? just a few bites, i won't tell natasha if you don't..." she pleaded. a feeling of safety grew in your chest. your level of trust with her had always been high, but this time it felt more intimate. wanda was seeing you at your worst, a vulnerable position you'd never let anyone else but tasha see, and yet, wanda decided to stay.

it took over an hour for you to manage half a meal. wanda sat through it all, however, and coaxed you through each bite.

now, two hours later with a snack in hand, you sat quietly on the porch, head resting on wanda's lap with her fingers tied in your hair.

"do you talk to nat?"

"sometimes. actually yeah, most of the time i talk to her. it helps, and she's a great listener." you complimented.

"wanda?"

"hm?"

"why are you doing this?"

wanda looked down at you, seeing your eyes bore into her and bit her lip, "it's hard to see the girl that i loved and the girl that came back. i should've noticed before you went on your mission, but i didn't because i was too wrapped up with my own issues."

"you can't blame yourself, wanda. i didnt want to be seen. you couldn't have done anything different."

she hummed, ears perking up at the sound of natashas car pulling in the driveway.

you jumped up from her lap and ran to help tasha with her groceries, earning a loving glare from the redhead.

oh yeah. no strenuous activity. too many calories that you needed would be burned off. at least that's what you were told anyway.

wanda stayed the rest of the day, even through dinner. (only because you begged natasha to let her stay that long.)

natasha didn't seem to mind that she stayed. the redhead heard more laughs and giggles from you than she'd heard in the past six months.

the worst part about the day ending was the fact that wanda had to leave eventually.

(eventually being now.)

you pouted. you weren't ready for her to go just yet. she'd taken your mind off of so much today and you weren't sure you could face it again. really, you didn't want to face it again.

"i believe in you." she murmured.

stupid mind reading.

wanda rolled her eyes, "i'm serious, y/n. you've got this. you're amazing."

“you're only saying that because you have to.”

her eyebrows pulled together. "no. i'm saying it because i know it's true. you've got a gift, y/n. what you have– you're going to get it back."

you inhaled.

"next time i see you, i want you to be a little bit more healthy, okay?" wanda gave you a tight hug and left without another word. she just hoped the next time she saw you it wasn't in a casket.

you hoped the next time you saw her, you'd be better.

today wasn't easy, but it gave you a taste of everything you'd been missing.

and you wanted it back.

#wanda maximoff x reader #scarlet witch x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat x reader #marvel imagine #avengers x reader

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