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pa1nkill3r · 3 years ago

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"Now How Come I've Only Found Out About This Now?" [G.W]

[Pairing:] George Weasley x Fem!Artist!Reader

[Summary:] So far, George Weasley knows three things about his new potions partner; So why not make it four? Or five?

[Warnings:] use of mudblood, a bit of angst, a bit of swearing, a pov change at some point in the end, idk-- fluff?? (is that a warning??)

[Word Count:] ≈2.7k

[A/N:] i used @buckystrenchcoat 's fluff plots for george weasley: 2. George finding out you can draw (kind of got carried away but oh well :D--) (ps just imagine that classes in hogwarts includes all of the houses together, thanks <3) Y/H = your house. (dk the timeline or what year george and the reader are in but i'd say between 3rd-5th year)

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The Weasley twins were becoming reckless and apparently, Professor Snape has had enough. The constant explosions on the other side of the dungeon and the numerous attempts at drowning his hair with shampoo has eventually led him to the decision of assigning the entire class their partners.

Thus halfway into the semester, the Weasley twins are never to be seen together again... that is until the end of 2nd period where they will go back and cause mischief elsewhere.

Fred was assigned to a Slytherin girl who George couldn't figure out if she's madly in love with his brother or wants to rip out his guts. While he on the other hand was assigned with Y/N. Truthfully, he never gave much thought to her, but after their first double potions lesson as partners, he began to wonder why he never gave much thought to her.

She was smart but never overbearing, made jokes here and there, sniggered when he made even the cheesiest of puns, and is wicked attractive. Their first task was to brew a calming draught and whilst adding in a smidge more of lavender, she proposed that they should make more while the majority of the class was still struggling.

"Why in Merlin's beard are we going to make more? We can just pass this and leave class early?" He asked, bringing a smile to her lips. "Yeah, yeah, that's what you want, don't you Weasley?" She quipped, looking back up to the red-headed boy who's now readying their vials.

"Just thought that we could make some for people, like, your brother. Poor guy, reckon he's going to rip his hair out getting partnered with Tuttle." And with that, George let out a laugh, a laugh that cost Gryffindor 5 points. Though, all was well when they were the first to finish and send their little vial of calming draught into the hands of Severus Snape, garnering 5 points each and an opportunity to leave class 10 minutes early.

And that was it, that was their relationship; potions partners.

George Weasley learned 2 things that day. One, his potions partner was someone he wanted to know more, to be with more, and two, one should never put a liberal amount of peppermint in a calming draught. (Fred learned that the hard way.)

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She was the epitome of beauty and brains. So far, that's what he knew about his potions partner. But a little incident in the corridor made two into three.

It wasn't unusual for Fred and George Weasley to skip class, especially if the class was History of Magic. And it also wasn't unusual for them to hide behind a tapestry whilst a stinky dungbomb was set in the first-floor corridor.

What was unusual though, was George not wanting to move from their hiding place, forcing Fred to also not move. "George, mate, wha-?" "SHH!"

Whatever Fred's question was supposed to be, it quickly got answered by the presence of a certain someone whose walking to the Muggle Studies classroom, his brother's potions partner perhaps? Fred grinned mischievously, nudging his brother in the abdomen, and earning a wince.

"Oi mudblood! Was that you?" They heard from a distance, heavy footsteps following the girl he's teasing his brother with. From their point of view, they could tell that the girl stopped in her tracks, sighing heavily as though this was a regular thing.

"Was that me, what?" She asked, clearly annoyed. "Was that you who did it? Or d'you just shat yourself? It smells horrid. Would make sense, as you're a filthy little mudblood."

George's blood was beginning to boil, fingers formed into a fist, knuckles white. Especially when they got to see the silhouette of the two arguing. Perfect, Winnifred Tuttle, his brother's potions partner bullying his Y/N Y/L/N. He had an urge to protect her. To avenge her. To show her how much he cared for someone who's supposed to be his potions partner.

"Was that supposed to be an insult, Tutts?" Y/N spat back, pulling George out of his trance and making Fred shut his mouth. Now he's the one staring intently. "It's honestly just sad. A 'pureblood' like you should know the difference between a dungbomb and a piece of shit. Or perhaps you're probably just that daft?"

The boys were fixated on their conversation now. A hand on their mouths, hopefully covering up their shock even if they're hiding behind a tapestry. George's heart was beating faster now.

"Me? Daft? Well, if I'm daft then why are you taking muggle studies?" Tuttle sneered, an ugly grin splattered across her face.

"Bit hypocritical, isn't it, Winnie? Bye-bye!" She turned her back away from the Slytherin now, walking into the Muggle Studies classroom, holding a few books in one hand and her middle finger in the other.

He knows three things about her now; She's bewitching, she's a whizz, and she's a muggle-born who doesn't take shit.

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A few more lessons in and one could say that Y/N and George are starting to become friendlier to each other. Acquaintances, sure, but, friendly nonetheless. But the Gryffindor wanted to live up to its name, to its values. He might've just gotten to know a bit about her but he was completely and utterly entranced.

Nothing's going to stop him now.

His right hand held his wand as he stirred the concoction in the cauldron. She, on the other hand, was cutting up the stewed mandrake. The easy silence between them was broken by none other than the lion himself.

"Hey," he called, lifting his gaze from the potion to the girl right next to him. "Hi." She said back.

"So... Today's a Friday, right?"

She looked at him, confused, recounting a particular time in which she looked at a calendar today. "Yeah, I think so."

"And we can go to Hogsmeade after classes?"

"Pretty sure you can, why?"

"Want to go on a date?"

She looked stunned which kind of hurt George's ego but as soon as the slightly parted mouth of hers became a cheerful grin, he felt a whole lot better.

"As long as you stop staring at me and not over mix our potion, then sure, I'll go out with you." She smiled, making George give a shy little grin back before attempting to put all his concentration on the brew. Mind boggled on the way she said 'our potion.'

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Going to Muggle Studies felt utterly useless now that Y/N's been promised to go on a date right after. But having George by her side, walking her to the class just seemed to be the best part of the day.

He recounted the time when he and Fred hid behind a tapestry and told Y/N all about it, giving a hot feeling to her cheeks. They stopped by the door frame of the classroom, Professor Burbage was waiting inside, pacing around her study as George's hand slyly held Y/N's.

"I'll pick you up later?" He asked with the same shy smirk plastered on his face, cheeks pink and ears flushed. "Yeah. Thanks for walking me here. You shouldn't have." She uttered, heels rising and falling as she bounced on her toes.

"Just making sure that Tuttsy's not going to ruin your day, love." Y/N felt heat rising to her cheeks and ears, as well as an uncontrollable grin. Her heel turned to make her face the concrete walls of the castle, hands covering their face and body slightly swaying from side to side. It was ridiculous, really. Dumb. Very.

"You're adorable when you're flustered."

"Shut up, Weasley." And with that, she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, leaving him slightly startled, stunned, and very red in the face. "You're adorable when you're flustered." She quipped, walking into the Muggle Studies classroom and taking her seat.

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Muggle Studies felt oddly slow that day. Usually, it lasted an hour but today it felt like a century. Professor Burbage's talk about electricity and muggle technology went in one ear and out the other.

If you'd ask why Y/N chose a subject she already knew plenty about, her answer would be that she wanted to see things from a different perspective. But truthfully, she just knew that she'd be good at it and it'd be an easy O.

So there she was; A scrap piece of parchment laid on the wooden desk and a pen since Professor Burbage discouraged the use of quills.

Her mind wandered off the moment she sat down on her chair. Feet either bouncing up and down or stuck straight onto the floor, she wouldn't know. What she did remember was her non-dominant hand posing itself as the other one scribbled on the piece parchment.

Her fingers played with the hazy light and the ink added depth. Soon she started sketching other things; The student in front of her, a study of Professor Burbage, a head with a moderately strong jaw and beautiful, short, messy hair. A male side profile with a big nose that has a slight bump on its bridge matching a cheeky grin with dimples. Her hand posed itself once more but this time she wasn't making it look like hers, she was making it look like his. Something she's seen many times before, and guiltily stared at once, twice, more than she could recount.

She was adding in the cluster of freckles when the worst happened; "Miss Y/L/N, still with us?" Professor Burbage stood at the front of the class, standing straight, clearly thinking about her posture. "Miss Y/L/N?"

She felt an elbow nudge her arm, and that was the thing that brought her back into reality. Her head whipped itself to face her seatmate then to her Professor, giving her a funny-looking nervous grin.

"Charm would get you nowhere, Miss Y/L/N. When was the first electricity generator introduced in Britain? And where was it installed?" She has to have something in that brain of hers. It must've been taught sometime when she was in muggle school. "Err-- 1900s something, Surrey--?"

Professor Burbage meekly chuckled, "Nice try. 1881. Godalming, Surrey. A point from Y/H then, I'm sorry."

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George was faithful and stuck to his word. Even being 5 minutes early after asking Professor Grubbly-Plank if he could go to the bathroom and have a wee, saying that the unicorns would definitely mind if he pissed on their trees.

He did not go to the bathroom but instead went straight to the Muggle Studies classroom. Leaning the side of his body onto the wall by the door. Trying his best to peer into the room and find his potions partner and soon to be his date and maybe even his. But he was getting ahead of himself.

The bell rang and he heard a loud shuffling sound of chairs being pulled back. The door was opened as students from all of the houses started pouring out and there she was. Looking beautiful as ever with her bag slung on her shoulder.

"Glad to see you're alright there, dove." He cooed, earning once again another shy smile. "Anything happened there?" He asked, pointing to the now open classroom.

"Felt way longer than usual, and I lost a house point." She said matter of factly. George chuckled, his heart filled with pride as he turned his head towards her.

"And what have you done to lose said house point?"

She smiled before reaching her hand into a pocket of her robes, pulling out a folded piece of aged parchment before handing it to the curious redhead.

"What's this? A love letter?" He bantered. "Just open it." And so he did. His nimble fingers unfolding the parchment, then he was stunned. Seeing his face drawn in ink with lines crossing over more lines was the last thing he expected. It looked like him. And it didn't look like Fred. It is him.

"I was just drawing in class but then I sort of blanked out and got a dumb question wrong." She paused, looking back up to see if the redhead was still listening. "Hello? Earth to George?"

"You drew me?" He was on a fine line of disbelief and awe. It truly looked amazing. She drew her hand at least three times before he recognized his was also there. She even got the little freckle he had on the middle of his wrist. The full body of ol' Professor Burbage brought so much of her energy and even the way her scarf wrapped around her neck was perfect.

Her cheeks were heating up again, realizing what she just did. "It's not that good. Just-- drew what I saw and, err-- whatever came to mind, I guess." Bad execution, sloppy excuse. "Okay, you've been looking at that for way too long now--"

"This looks bloody brilliant! Now how come I've only found out about this now?"

"Flattery would get you nowhere, Weasley." She joked, but he was serious.

"S'not 'flattery' if I'm stating what's true! It's amazing, you're amazing." She felt her heartbeat increase by a mile.

"Well then, I'm flattered." She said, adjusting the strap of her bag to hopefully let out some adrenaline. "And to answer your question, it'd be terrifying if I just started drawing in Snape's class. I swear that man has eyes at the back of his head. That's why this is a new discovery for you."

"Fuck, this is amazing!" He uttered.

"It's really not that good--"

"'S'really not that good' Some shit standards you have there. I'd put this in a museum!" He said loudly, extending both his arms and imagining that the piece of parchment was displayed on the Hogwarts walls. "If you don't like it then I'll keep it." George joked, expecting disapproval, which, to his shock, never came.

"Are you actually giving this to me?"

She shrugged, "I mean if you'd like a photo of you drawn by a teenage girl then be my guest." He smiled, genuinely smiled. He looked so pretty at that moment and there shouldn't be any holding back now.

"...But," She started, his gaze looked intently at her, ready to listen to whatever comes next. "There's a price."

"Between Freddie and I, we have 26 galleons and a few sickles." He said, earning a hearty laugh and a shake of her head. "Don't really think he'd like me to give all of it to you, I'm sorry. If you want I'd pay a bit then I--"

"No, George." She said, tugging lightly on his tie to gain his attention. "How about... a kiss? Perhaps?"

He grinned. His hand hovered itself across her face before landing on her cheek, thumb gracing itself on its apples, slightly squishing the skin whilst his eyes looked for any signs of discomfort; there was none.

They slowly leaned in, eyes locked on lips before their lips locked onto each other. His lips were slightly chapped but it felt like the softest thing on Earth. He smelled of cinnamon, firewood, gunpowder, and other indescribable scents, but it was nice. It was short but meaningful, gentle, even. His other hand was wrapped around her waist and once again, his thumbs were running up and down whatever part of her body it's laid on.

He learned two more things about the girl that day; she's artistic, and she felt like home.

He never thought there'd be a time in his life where he'd be thankful for Severus Snape. But life goes in unexpected ways.

"If you'd like to tip me then I'm just going to say that I love cauldron cakes." She grinned up at him as they pulled away before settling her face in his chest. George chuckled to himself before wrapping his arms completely on her waist, placing a sweet kiss on the top of her head.

"Yeah, yeah, come on." He said, pulling away to let her shake herself up as he held onto the piece of folded parchment which graced his face, giving it a small peck before putting it in his pocket, patting it three times.

"Better sign that drawing for me, Y/N. How much does an autograph cost?"

"Double the original price—?"

"And the tip?"

"And the tip."

#george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fluff #george weasley x reader #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x ravenclaw!reader #george weasley x hufflepuff!reader #george weasley x slytherin!reader #george weasley x gryffindor!reader #george weasley fic #george weasley #george weasley x y/n #oml this is long

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achillieus · 4 years ago

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let you down. (sebastian stan x reader)

summary: it's a universal truth but it's worth repeating; feelings eat us raw. or just an actor and a girl falling in and out of love over the course of three months.

(this was inspired by sebastian's visit to greece for his movie, monday, and is based on that, so that means in the story we’re in 2018. also i have this posted on ao3 too but while i’m writing the last parts i thought of posting it here too)

pairing: sebastian stan x reader

warnings: alcohol, sexual references, implied depression, sebastian desperately needs to hug the reader, it's kinda slowburn because i love the yearning

(pinterest inspired board)

part: 1/6

(other parts) (masterlist)

The day it happened, it wasn't a significant meeting at all, you barely even talked. In fact, when he opened the door of your neighbor’s flat that day with a beer in his right hand and his hair messy, he didn't have any effect on you. You always knew that living next to a director meant that sooner or later you’d bump into the pretty faces of well-known people. Sure, you didn’t expect them to be Hollywood actors like him, but to say you were starstruck by the man, would be the overstatement of the year.

The building you’ve lived in for the last three years has five floors; you live in the 4th, he lives in the 5th. He’s a quiet person, usually spending his evenings out of his apartment. You’ve talked sometimes, about the weather and the weird lady that lives in the 1st floor. You’ve never told him you find his directing style a little pretentious.

You’ve never been to his place until that annoyingly warm August evening, when you find a white button up shirt on your balcony. You can clearly see more clothing when you look up and you’re certain the item you’re holding belongs to him.

He’s not there though. Instead you find a different face behind the door. Lighter eyes and darker hair. The man in front of you is definitely younger than the director. You don’t bother to notice what he’s wearing.

“Can I help you?” His voice is deeper than you expected. Stronger, with a touch of European accent. The sound of English surprises you at first but soon you realize he must be another foreign coworker that came to visit your neighbor

“No, I just think Argyris dropped this and it ended up on my floor.”

He looks at you and then at the shirt, in your hands.

Then he says “Sure, I’ll take it.”

“Okay.”

Then it ends. He doesn’t even ask your name. You don’t have to ask his. You figure out, as soon as you walk down the stairs, that it’s Sebastian Stan that you just talked to.

And while being a big fan of marvel movies, you think nothing special of him at first. You just wonder how a mostly unknown director from Greece got an actor like Sebastian to come here so they can work together. It makes no sense to you, but you forget it when your phone starts ringing.

It would’ve been easier if you never saw him again, yet you do. You see him trying to understand what the old lady from the first floor is trying to tell him. You already know. The elevator is not working. The next day you see him walking up the stairs.

You exchange a quick hello, how are you and then off you both go.

The same night Argyris invites you to have a drink with them in the terrace. Part of you wants to just stay in bed and binge watch some Sherlock episodes. Part of you already thinks of what to wear.

There are around ten people there when you show up. They’re all sitting down in huge pillows drinking and talking loudly. You don’t know most of them.

You sit next to a blonde girl, across from Sebastian. This time you notice he’s wearing a plain black shirt and holds a glass of whiskey.

You don’t share any direct conversations but you learn that he’s afraid of growing old and that he thinks Taxi Driver is one fucking masterpiece, as he says.

When you mention that you’re probably the least artistic person in the room right now, you hear him laugh.

A curly haired woman starts dancing with him at some point. You decide he’s not a good dancer.

He leaves the same time you do, following you down the stairs.

“I thought you live here.” You say when he doesn’t stop at the floor you expect him to.

“Ah no, I stay at a hotel near the centre.”

He keeps talking about his suite until you reach your door.

You part in a blur, with a short goodbye.

He still doesn’t ask for your name.

It makes you feel genuinely offended.

Two days after, he is the farthest thing from your mind, until you find him sitting in front of your door, his eyes roaming the place with despair. And then he sees you.

“Ah finally you are here.” He starts casually. “Thank god.”

You just nod.

“Argyris told me to wait for him with you. We had a meeting but he got stuck in traffic.”

You give him a look.

“He said you’re always at home so you won’t mind.”

Ouch. Yeah sure, your social life wasn’t something to brag about but for some reason the way Sebastian said it, it sounded like an insult.

“Okay, come in.” You shrug, clearly not feeling comfortable and turn around to unlock the door.

You hear him call your name. You thought he didn’t know.

“Yes?”

He offers you an easy smile. “Thank you.”

Sitting in your couch he’s eyeing the entire room, while you put some groceries in the fridge.

“Argyris says you’re a great girl.” He clears his throat. “But he thinks you’re too quiet for your own good.”

You look at him, your eyes flicking up and down his face.

“And from what I can tell, he’s right.” You hear him laugh.

It felt weird to see him laugh while he was leaning back at your cozy pillow. He had entered your life so suddenly you didn’t even have time to react to it.

“I’m sorry but I barely know you.” Your words are sharp. He sits up.

“Okay then let’s get to know each other, what’s your favorite Disney princess?”

Defeated, you laugh. “Are you kidding me?”

“No, this is an important question.”

You wait for him to crack up but then you remember he’s an actor.

“I don’t know.” You think for a second. “Mulan?”

“Oh my god. Mulan is amazing.” You smile at him. “My favorite is Jasmine, she’s just so badass.”

You share your favorites that day, having almost nothing in common rather than your everlast love for animated movies and buttered popcorn.

When it’s time for him to leave, he stops and looks at you in the eye.

“You should talk more often.”

You stare at him with confusion. “I talk,” you raise your eyebrows. “When I have something to say.”

“Good.” he says, still looking.

Later in the evening, you’re eating some yoghurt when he comes knocking on your door.

He’s different. The white tank top he was wearing this morning is replaced with a dark shirt and his face looks tired. You assume they’ve been working since he went upstairs.

“Hiii”, he says dragging the i, “Am I interrupting anything?”

You desperately want to nod. You want to tell him that you were doing the most exciting thing in the world, before he came but you were never a good liar.

So you just tilt your head and take a step back.

That’s when he enters and is met with some loud rock music blaring from your laptop.

“You like AC/DC?” he asks, almost wide-eyed.

“Well, I can tell it’s them when I hear their stuff.” For the first time that day, he seems to be in loss of words. “Why are you so surprised?”

He sits in the same spot in the couch as earlier and laughs.

“I just didn’t take you for the kind of girl who likes this music.” It’s your turn to laugh.

“Why?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Quiet girl who loves animated films and eats kids’ yoghurt” he looks at the carton in your kitchen table, “and also likes metal music? Doesn’t add up.”

“We’ve basically just met; you shouldn’t make assumptions about me.”

“Fair enough.” He sits back, fidgeting with his fingers.

You take some time just looking at him

There was a certain vibe about that man that made you wonder how it’d feel to cruise down a dessert highway in a convertible mustang with him. In the summer. With him wearing that white tank top.

The color of strawberries emerges at your cheeks just at the thought of it.

You wish he doesn’t notice.

You’re glad to find him looking the other way, before he speaks up.

“We’re going out tonight.” His voice is warm now. “Argyris says you should come along, even though I’m quite sure there’s no hardcore music where we’re going.” He laughs again.

I can’t. You almost say. But then anxiety slips away from you and out of sudden you want him to stop being so freaking arrogant, going around and acting like he knows exactly what kind of person you are.

He thinks you’ll say no. You can see it in his eyes.

“Sure, when should I be ready?” you say, surprising both of you.

He looks at you for some time and then trying to hide whatever he was thinking he says the first thing on his mind.

“How old are you?” He sounds pitiful. He knows. He wishes he could hit a wall; with his head.

“Twenty-one.” His eyes scan yours, unsure of what they’re looking for. “Why?”

“No reason.”

He inhales deep.

You try to blink. You’re at a party in a little bar you’ve never been before and a lot of people are wearing black. Alcohol. You can still taste it on the back of your tongue. You don’t remember how you end up pressed against a dark skinned man, but you can tell he smells of cigarettes and despair.

You sway your body to the beat, close your eyes. Breath in. And out. You think the music deafens you for a second but you open your lids and see Sebastian and he’s watching you, unashamed.

He’s not that far, though it feels like it with countless bodies in the way. The music melts. His gaze is almost angelic. Or devious. You can’t really tell.

He’s dancing with that curly haired woman again. You wonder how intimate their relationship is.

The red neon lights make his skin glisten. His muscles move divinely. It makes you think there’s an entire world inside him, his flesh barely keeping it hidden. Out of sudden you get the urge to walk towards him. You want to see him up close under this dim lighting. But you don’t move.

The man that’s groping your waist asks for your name. You tell him you need to flee. He doesn’t understand.

You sit outside with the sweet summer breeze touching your bare arms. The bass of the music in the background syncs with the beating of your heart. You can feel your ribs grow with every breath you take. Until you stop breathing because the door opens and his eyes suffocate you.

You can’t fathom the effect he has on you. He was a pretty face on screen some days ago. But right now he steals distance and stays near you.

You don’t look his way. He doesn’t say a word. Nicotine and smoke surround you as he exhales. His fingers hold the cigarette butt with care.

“Do you want some?”

You turn to look at him.

“I don’t smoke.” He laughs.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t want some.”

You want to know if his breath has the taste of sulfur. You want to pretend it’s the alcohol or the loud music that makes your head hurt.

“What’s the best part of being an actor?” The blue in his eyes glows.

There’s silence but he seems to be thinking about it.

“Do you ever feel things too much?” He says, his voice hoarse. “I mean, when you feel something so intensely it becomes a part of who you are.”

You nod. You understand.

“Acting allows you to let go of these feelings,” he starts. “You share the burden with the audience until it becomes light and you can hold it again.”

You look at him, shaking your head.

“I don’t think I could that,” you close your eyes. “I don’t think I could share what I feel so easily.”

He stands up. The wind hits you again.

“A lot people can’t. That’s why everyone is heartbroken,” he takes a breath, “Feelings eat us raw.”

You both go to bed alone that night. Tomorrow there is a hole next to you.

the morning after, search history

(02:45 PM) hangover recovery

(03:00 PM) best food after a hangover

(03:10 PM) sebastian stan

(03:30 PM) sebastian stan girlfriend

(06:00 PM) xanax side effects

You follow him on Instagram. He doesn’t follow you back. You remember he probably gets tons of followers every day and decide not to let it bother you. Instead you study for the exams of the following month.

The subject of your studies doesn’t interest you. Another poor decision you made under pressure. Sometimes you feel as if your life is borrowed from someone else. Sometimes you feel as if you haven’t found your home yet.

Feelings eat us raw.

His girlfriend looks beautiful in the pictures you find online. The media isn’t certain if they’re still together but you like to think so. It makes it easier to avoid him.

But the universe seems to be oblivious to your thoughts and you see him that same day. You’re taking the garbage out and he’s coming down from the top floor. You meet in the elevator.

“I’m glad to see you’re still alive,” his eyes are smiling as he talks “you looked kinda drunk last night.”

You fidget with the hem of the bag you’re holding.

“I wasn’t drunk.” You notice he’s growing some stubble. You’re not sure you like it.

“Whatever you say, doll.” You bite your cheek trying to devour any sign that might give away how his words make you flinch.

He turns his body a little so now you’re facing each other. He’s so pretty. He’s so pretty in a way that doesn’t hurt. You try not to stare at him, but you fail sometimes. You’ve never noticed how slow the elevator moves until you want to get out. You can’t stand being so close to him for much longer.

He’s an arrogant rich actor who loves Disney and smokes a lot, you think. I have no reason to be affected by him.

“Ah! Argyris said we’re leaving for the weekend.” You eye him curiously. “He wants to show us some small villages in the south. He thinks we should get to know the country a little more before we start.”

You’re stunned by your neighbor’s dedication to his work. Sometimes you wish you had something you could be passionate about too. Sometimes you think you’re never going to find it.

“That’s great. I’m sure you’ll like it.” You give him a smile.

He leans his back at the wall. The elevator stops. Finally.

“I like your eyes.” You grab tight onto the bag. “But they don’t smile when you do.”

He opens the door and he’s gone.

They tell you that it’s fun to meet a famous person. They tell you, you can ask for a photo and a hug. They tell you celebrities don’t talk a lot but that doesn’t mean they’re rude.

But he’s not like that.

He’s fire. He’s burning heat and scorching flames. His words are his thoughts; raw. You don’t like it.

late night search history

(00:38 AM) blue valentine movie soundtrack

(01:15 AM) is sebastian stan a bad person

(01:30 AM) acting classes for amateurs

(01:50 AM) cheap leather boots

(02:10 AM) sebastian stan eyes

You find it annoying; how he’s present even when you’re alone.

Thankfully he’s leaving for the weekend, you think.

The weekend, however, is two days away.

You think you can get away without seeing him. And you do. Until it’s late at night again. And they’re all upstairs with music so loud you’re certain the lady on the first floor is going to be rude about it in the morning.

The music tempo has you unaffected. All you think about is if he’s dancing with that woman again.

He’s such a bad dancer, he should not be dancing.

There’s a subtle knock on your door. You know it’s him. You hope you’re wrong.

“Do you feel like dancing?” His face is all flustered. It’s a good look on him.

“You can’t come knocking on my door at 2 AM and ask me to dance.” His gaze is filled with confusion.

“So you don’t feel like dancing?” You roll your eyes. He notices.

“That’s not the point Sebastian.” It’s the first time you call him by his name. You let it slip away slowly, testing the way it sounds coming out of your mouth.

He takes a step closer. You are suddenly aware of your pyjama shorts and your exposed skin.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to irritate you.” His eyes are the cliché blue of the sky. “I just thought you might want to dance, that’s all.”

Suddenly you feel guilty and embarrassed. He’s oblivious to it.

For a moment you feel his eyes linger on you. It feels surreal.

You nod at him.

He’s ready to say something when Argyris comes down the stairs, his shirt slightly unbuttoned.

“Ah man, I thought you got lost or something.” You lower your eyes. “Stop messing with the poor girl. People are looking for you.”

He throws a smile at you and Sebastian takes a quick breath.

“People are always looking for me.”

He gives away that he’s carrying a burden. Your expression softens. But then you look at Argyris and you see he doesn’t really pay attention to these words.

You share a quick look before you’re there standing alone at your doorstep, trying to grasp the idea of him.

When you wake up you feel like running. You can’t fathom where the feeling comes from but it starts like a liquid running down your veins and soon you can’t stay in bed even for a second.

Feelings eat us raw. Only if you let them.

i really appreciate feedback, it motivates me tons and also tell me if you’d like to be tagged in this six part story :)

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan imagine #monday the movie #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #letyoudown

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lubdubsworld · 4 years ago

Text

City Lights . ( Namjoon x OC)

Pairing : OC x Kim Namjoon.

Genre : Angst. Romance.

Rating 18 +

Word Count : 2900

Warnings : Mature Themes , Explicit Sexual Content . Slow burn. Like slower than a snail.

Summary :

Widowed and destitute, Son Yang Mi leaves the comfort of her small , secluded fishing village and travels to the intimidating city of Seoul with her young son. She has a plan, one that involves finding a job, getting her son into a good school and building a life for herself.

Now, three years later she has a job , working as a live in house keeper for the Kim family, specifically for the son, Kim Namjoon, a famous rapper and producer.

Its a job that puts a roof over her head and she’ll do anything to keep it.

But fate has other plans.

Chapter 1 ~

Akogare (ah-koh-ga-reh)Often translated directly as a sort of frustrated “yearning”, “desire”, or “longing” .

Seoul in summer was a sight to behold. I blinked back against the bright sunlight, staring out into the stunning skyline of the city as the sun rose over it , and although it was just a little past seven in the morning, the air was warm and invigorating. The mid July sun shone down with no mercy, and there was no trace of the rain that had lashed city just the previous night.

It had been three whole years but the relief that came from breathing fresh air, untainted by the damp musk of fishing trowels and sweaty men, was still unrivalled.

I shook off the feather duster in my hand, moving to carefully clean the wicker woven chairs on the artificial lawn in the balcony. Dusting the entire condo down was a mind numbing exercise in patience, so i tried to get it out of the way, early in the morning when my son was still asleep.

At six years old, Junsu was a bright , happy child. Summer vacation meant days sleeping in and evenings spent frolicking with the other kids in the building and he was content with being alone in our small shared room, reading or playing with his toys while I went about the day’s work.

I glanced at the clock, grimacing.

It was almost eight . And although Mr. Kim wasn’t due back home for another twelve hours, I felt a little jittery and nervous.

Kim Namjoon , renowned rapper, producer, writer , poet and what not. The apartment was his but he was usually on tour, traveling all over the world to promote his book and to perform in sold out stadiums. For an A list celebrity, he was surprisingly humble.

For the past three years, him and his model fiancée Lee Mina had spent a total of maybe seven months in the condo. They were a sweet couple, or so I’d always thought , a bit formal with each other but clearly in love . Mr. Kim was a kind, soft spoken young man and I’d never heard him raise his voice unless he was in the company of his very dear friends.

Just a little over a week ago , both of them had left Korea for the States , the tabloids screaming about a luxurious destination wedding in the Caribbean and I had been asked to take a few weeks off . The newly weds wouldn’t be back for quite a while and they would let me know when I had to come back to the condo.

I’d been toying with the idea of visiting my in laws in Gwangyog, maybe even dropping by to see some old friends there but yesterday , Mr. Kim’s mother had given me a call letting me know her son was coming home.

[

The conversation went something like this :

Yang Mi, I hope you haven’t left yet?

No, Ma'am, I haven’t.

Joon-ah is going to be back tomorrow.

Oh, is Ms Lee arriving as well?

No, Just him He’s going to be alone.

Yes, Ma'am.

Please don’t mention anything about Mina or the wedding.

No ma'am of course not.

I’ll drop by later . Cook him something warm and filling. And make sure the house is cleaned well.

Yes, Ma’ am.

]

And that was that.

~~~~~~

It took the better part of the day to finish cleaning and setting up the house . I washed the window slats, changed the sheets, arranged the books that had been left scattered all over his bedroom. The walk-in closet was littered with a bunch of his clothes and I made sure his gym bag was stocked with fresh towels, spare clothes and his favorite head and wrist bands.

For someone so careful and calculated, he was really quite a messy man.

i did his laundry, making sure he had ample clothes at least for another two weeks, creasing the handkerchiefs and carefully removing lint from his jackets.

I also carefully sorted out the feminine clothing from the laundry and from the cupboard, folding them neatly and placing them in the lowest shelf of the closet, where he wouldn’t find them. It wasn’t hard, hiding traces of his fiancee from the condo, because it had never really been her home. other than a few spare pieces of underwear and a couple of t shirts and skirts, there weren’t many articles of clothing belonging to Ms. Lee.

But I still got rid of the bobby pins and hair ties, the spare lip gloss and mascara.

Junsu spent the entire day in our room, reading and drawing, only venturing out every few hours to grab a snack. I left him with his drawing tab ( a gift from Mr. Kim for his 5th birthday ) and his favorite book, asking the security guard at the end of the hallway to keep an eye on the door, while i went out to buy groceries.

Lots of meat, no sea food, healthy snacks and high protein fiber bars. I stocked up on sauces and bought a fresh batch of eggs, oranges and grapes . Mrs. Kim had sent a large amount of kimchi a few weeks ago and that was still in the pantry.

i stopped for a second, staring around at the almost deserted store. Most of the other housekeepers shopped at the bigger, more exclusive store on the other side of the residential complex. But Mr. Kim had a very selective palette, which meant that I had to be very particular about the brands i bought.

When i came back home at around six, Junsu was on the floor in the living space and i felt my heart jump in panic.

“Baby!! I’ve told you not to come out here when I’m not home!” I protested bleakly and he pouted.

“I need to show you my gift for Mr. Kim!!” He said softly. I smiled moving to put away the groceries and glancing at the clock. It was a little past six. I had to call Yungyu.

“Did you draw him something ? “ I asked curiously, checking to see if the beer shelf was stocked. probably should have done that before going out for the groceries, I thought regretfully.

“Yeah! Look!!” Junsu held his tab out and my heart dropped.

For a six year old, Junsu drew very well. And there was really no mistaking the very obvious wedding scene on the screen.

Oh, Good God.

“ That looks amazing honey.” I said gently. “ But, I heard that Ms Lee isn’t coming over this time..”

Junsu frowned.

“Why?”

“Well, I’m not sure. But remember how we spoke about saying the right things? When something upsets someone, we do not bring it up.” I reminded him gently. My son hesitated but nodded.

“Okay. I’m sorry. “ He said softly.

“No baby, its not your fault. It’s just that we want Mr. Kim to be happy right? We don’t wanna upset him...”

He smiled at that.

“When he’s happy, his dimples come out.” He said with a giggle. I laughed.

“yes they do... So let’s try and get those dimples out as often as we can alright? Why don’t you show him that picture you drew of yeontan the other day? He’ll really like that....”

“Okay...but i need to go color it!” Junsu yelled, already running back into our room. I watched him go before reaching for the phone and dialing, Yungyu, the chauffeur.

“Are you on the way here? ” i said briskly.

“Just starting from home...” Yungyu muttered, “ I’m supposed to be on vacation now! Why is he coming back so soon?”

“Just hurry up !! We can’t keep him waiting!!” I said sharply, before hanging up.

I made a quick check of all the rooms, filling up water bottles for his gym routine in the morning and stashing them in the fridge before moving to get dinner started.

i set the water on boil for the stew, before moving to peel cucumbers for the salad. I chopped the cucumber , along with some fresh cherry tomatoes . I watched the water boil, thinly slicing an onion and adding it to the bowl as well. The dressing was pretty simple, soy sauce, rice vinegar, honey and sesame oil . I sprinkled some sesame seeds on the bowl, used the salad tongs to give the whole thing a nice toss and set it aside.

I braised the chicken first , peeling and chopping potatoes and carrots to add to the stew . In a few minutes, the rich smell of lightly spiced chicken and garlic and perilla leaves began filling the kitchen and I turned on the rice cooker as well.

The door bell rang at six forty and i opened the door to reveal Yungyu.

I grabbed the keys to the Palisade, handing them over to him.

“Did you hear?” He whispered urgently.

I frowned.

“What?”

“They say Mr. Kim called off the wedding!” He whispered, wide eyed.

I glared at him.

“Who told you that?” i demanded...

“Seojoon from the gate said-”

“Why don’t you ask Seojoon from the gate to mind his own damn business?” I snapped.

Yungyu looked suitably chastised. i felt a little bad. Yungyu was still young and curiosity was hardly a sin.

“His flight lands at eight exactly. Hurry okay?” I said with a smile, ruffling his hair.

He brightened, peering over my shoulder into the house.

“Where’s the little one?” He asked curiously.

“ Painting something for Mr. Kim... Go ahead, hurry up.” I shooed him away, locking the door behind him. I fixed a plate of food for Junsu and sent him to eat, before moving to check on the stew. +

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

By the time eight thirty rolled around I had the table set and ready. I washed my face quickly in the small bath attached to our room , making sure I was dressed well. Junsu wasn’t allowed in the main house unless Mr. Kim specifically asked for him and my son usually stayed in.

Junsu and I stayed in a bedroom , not large by any means but big enough for a queen sized bed, a table and chair for Junsu and small dresser where I kept a comb and a tube of night cream. I stared at my face, licking my lips as I smoothed my hair out.

I glanced at the bed.

Junsu was asleep , having dozed off while coloring his picture and I carefully extracted the tab from under his fingers, moving him around to lay on the soft pillows. I tucked him in gently, brushing the hair off his face.

“In peace , I will lie down to sleep, for You alone will let me rest in safety.” I whispered gently against his forehead, kissing the soft skin. I felt my lips wobble , a debilitating wave of affection flooding me as the sweet scent of my baby, filled my senses.

I would die for you, I thought fiercely, kissing him again.

The sound of the front door opening made me jump.

Swearing, i smoothed the fabric of my skirt, running to the kitchen.

“Thank you for picking me up Yungyu, I’m sorry you had to cut short on your vacation.” Mr. Kim’s deep voice filled the hallway and I quickly grabbed a glass, filling it with water and placing it on the dinner tray.

“Not a problem, Sir. “ Yungyu’s cheerful voice responded.

“How are you going home?” Mr. Kim asked.

“I’ll take the bus.”

A pause and then,

“Here’s some cash. Get a cab.”

I could hear the relief in Yungyu’s voice as he let out a , “ Thank you sir.”

I fixed his plate carefully, the bowl of rice, the bowl of chicken stew, and the salad neatly arranged next to the napkin and the chopsticks. I heard him move across the condo, the sound of his suitcases as he wrestled them towards his bedroom and I frowned. Yungyu should’ve have brought those in for him.

I finished reheating all of the food and carefully carried the dinner tray to the bedroom.

Mr. Kim’s bedroom was right at the end of the hallway and the door was open. The full length mirror on the opposite wall showed him sitting on the small couch in his room, legs spread and elbows resting on his knees as he ran his fingers through his hair.

I raised my hand, ready to knock on the wood.

“Fuck!” He shouted, kicking out at the coffee table with enough force to send the furniture skidding half way across the room.

I froze in the hallways stunned.

“You’re such a fucking fool , Namjoon !!” He muttered angrily and I swallowed, turning on my heel and quickly walking back to the kitchen.

Maybe I ought to wait till he asked for dinner.

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

He didn’t ask for dinner.

I stayed sitting on the floor of the kitchen, waiting and lightly dozing as I heard him talk to his parents on the phone. I heard him open the liquor cabinet in his room, the sound of ice sloshing against glass, the sound of whiskey being poured carefully and i sighed.

I had to get to bed. It was already a little past eleven.

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

Sometime in the night, I woke up sweating....

Wondering what woke me up, I blinked groggily, glancing at Junsu. He was still sound asleep.

Sighing, I climbed out of the bed, carefully making my way to Mr. Kim’s room, peering in carefully.

He was asleep on the sofa.

I stared at the way his long legs stretched over the armrest, his lean hips twisted to accommodate his broad shoulders on the couch and I winced. He was definitely going to regret that in the morning.

I stared at the half empty bottle of whiskey on the table and sighed, moving to take off his shoes carefully. He didn’t stir.

I grabbed a pillow from the bed, carefully lifting his head and slipping it under. I placed a comforter over his shoulders, pulling it down to cover his legs.

Force of habit almost made me brush his hair off his forehead but I stopped myself.

The clock on the wall read three fifty am. God, I was going to feel terrible tomorrow. I carefully tip toed out, shutting the door behind me

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

I picked the comforter from the floor, carefully folding it and placing it on the bed, before grabbing the empty bottle of whiskey and glass . i could hear the shower running. The curtains were still drawn in and I tugged on the strings to get them to open. Sunlight spilled in through the floor length windows. The bed wasn’t slept in, so I opened the closet to grab a couple of towels, laying them on the bed for him.

The bathroom door opened and i quickly straightened, wanting to race out of the room but it was too late. Thankfully he was dressed, a pair of loose sweats and a loose t shirt . He was running a towel through his hair and his face brightened at the sight of me.

“Yang Mi! You’re here....” He said cheerfully.

“Good morning sir.” I said softly, offering him a small smile.

He smiled brightly, hair damp and dimples deep. The white t shirt he had on was almost fully soaked through and he shook his head, sending stray water droplets all over the place, a few landing on my cheeks.

“I didn’t see you last night...” He said casually, moving to drop the wet towel in the hamper, grabbing one of the fresh ones I’d laid on the bed.

“I thought you would like your privacy sir, you looked exhausted.”

He smiled.

“ Thank you for the blanket and the pillow by the way. And the shoes.”

I bowed quickly.

“I’ll get your breakfast done, sir.” I bowed again before quickly getting out.

I moved to the kitchen grabbing the oranges I’d got the previous day . Mr. Kim wasn’t fond of traditional korean dishes in the morning. He preferred freshly squeezed juice and toast, sometimes with an omelet perhaps.

I fixed his breakfast quickly, setting it all in the tray . He was still moving around in the bedroom and I heard him drag his worktable to the windows, which meant he was going to stay in the bedroom.

Pouring his coffee into a cup, I carefully picked up the breakfast tray , moving to his room slowly.

I used my foot to knock on the door.

After a pause of a few seconds,

“Come in Yang Mi!”

I carefully moved to the small table in front of the couch, placing the tray right in front of him. The scent of his body wash, green apple and strawberries, hit me hard.

“Where’s Junsu?” He asked casually.

“Still asleep sir. It’s Summer so school’s out.” I smiled, grabbing his phone from the table to make space for his tray.

The phone buzzed just as I was about to place it back down and I blinked.

Mina calling.......

I swallowed, not sure what to do, placing the phone down quickly.

“Uh..you have ...” I waved vaguely at the device before bowing again and moving back.

“close the door on your way out, Yang Mi...” He said gently and I quickly obeyed.

I moved to the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee for myself. I stayed leaning over the counter and even through the locked door, I could hear him .

“Just don’t call me Mina...i don’t want to talk about this!!!”

I swallowed, glancing out of the window again. It was a bright, clear morning.

A second later, the door to his bedroom slammed open and he stormed out. I watched him from my spot in the kitchen, his fists clenched as he rushed out to the front door.

The door shut behind him and I exhaled.

Once I as done with my coffee, I moved to his room to clear the breakfast tray. His phone was still on the table.

It began ringing again just as I left the room.

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

"Mrs. Kim.” i said respectfully, bowing . She gave me a short smile.

“Where’s Namjoon? I’ve been calling him for the past hour.” She pushed past me into the house and I bit my lips.

“He went out about an hour ago. He left his phone behind.” I explained.

She stopped, sighing.

“Fine, I’ll wait for him. “ She moved to sit on the couch, glancing around the room.

“Should I get you something ma'am?” I asked softly and she smiled.

“Get me a glass of lemonade, Yangmi.” She said brusquely and i nodded, running to the kitchen.

“Did Mina come over?” She called out as I got the lemons out of the cooler.

“No ma'am.” i replied.

“Did she call?”

I remembered the phone ringing, how upset it had made Namjoon, how he had stormed out.

“I don’t know ma'am!” I said softly.

She nodded.

“Okay. You can leave.” She said quietly. i bowed and went back into the kitchen.

I peered out of the window as I fixed her a glass , and my eyes fell on a familiar figure, coming back in through the front gate. Even from this distance there was no mistaking the long legs and messy blonde hair.

I bit my lips, mind racing.

Mrs Kim and her son had a volatile relationship, to say the least.

And something told me that Mr. Kim was probably not in the right frame of mind to argue with his mother, now. The man was upset but apparently, neither his mother nor his ex fiancée understood that. instead of giving him space they were hounding him.

I hesitated for a second before making a quick decision.

I grabbed the tray with her lemonade and moved to her quickly.

“Thank you.” She said sharply. “ Turn on the Air Conditioner for me, will you?”

I fumbled with the remote, grabbing his phone from the table , turning it on before moving to the front door and rushing out.

I almost ran into him as he came out of the elevator , and i jerked back stumbling a bit to stop myself from crashing into his chest. He let out a , ‘ Whoa, “ his hands reaching out to grip my elbows.

“Careful. What’s wrong?” He asked gently and I swallowed.

“Your mother’s here.” I said quickly, “ Sir.”

“Oh, fuck.” He groaned. I swallowed.

“You can leave.” I blurted out. “It’s Tuesday. She has her charity work meeting at ten. Its almost nine. She won’t stay long....”

His eyes met mine, lips parting in surprise.

“I really can’t meet her now.” He said apologetically.

I nodded.

“Of course, I understand , sir. Just be back in an hour , she’ll be go-”

The elevator buzzed , the doors nearly closing over my shoulders and I flinched. He swore and stuck his arm out to keep it open.

I stared at him before holding his phone out.

“Here you go sir. “

He chuckled taking it from me and shaking his head.

“i feel like a kid, sneaking away from my mom.” His eyes reached mine, twinkling, “ Who would’ve thought the quiet, timid Yang Mi would be my partner in crime. “

I didn’t reply, just smiled.

And then he hesitated. “ Is Junsu awake?”

I blinked.

“Uh...yes sir,...he’s playing in the park downstairs with the other kids.”

“Great... Would you mind if i take him out for ice cream?”

I stared at him.

“Oh..uh...of course not. Sure.. I mean.. he’ll love that... Sir. Thank you.. You don’t have to -”

��Consider it thank you for helping me with my mother.” He smiled again and i found myself staring at his dimples again. i swallowed.

“in that case, he loves butter scotch.” I smiled.

The dimples appeared and i bit my lips.

“Thank you Yang Mi.” He said slowly.

“Yes, Sir.”

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

Author’s Note : Finally a hyungline fic !!! ugh... I’ve been wanting to write a Namjoon fic for ages and I really hope you guys will like this one :’( Feedback is much appreciated.

#namjoon smut #namjoon au #namjoon hot #namjoon fics #namjoon x reader #namjoon fic #bts smut #bts fanfics #bts au #bts fics #houseofddaeng

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nishisun · 4 years ago

Text

suna rintaro is NOT a genius.

summary: you loved the idea of soulmates. suna rintaro didn’t. it isn’t that hard to put two and two together to realize that maybe people with different opinions on things don’t belong together.

part 2

a/n: this was literally supposed to be a series, i gave up on it because i just didn’t like the way it turned out. it used to be called “out of my league” and this was the intro. i also renamed it. just emptying drafts!! please don’t get confused with the random timeskip, once again, this was a part of a series i never ended up posting😭

WARNING!!: suggestive themes, mentions of death, idk kinda angsty but tell me if i missed anything

Soulmates. Whatever the hell that means. The idea of soulmates is something I truly don’t understand. It’s bullshit, honestly. It’s all-pervasive.

My mother always told me I'd eventually find "the one.” I used to believe that when I was younger of course. But in my opinion? It’s all cliches. It's unhelpful, and it's certainly not true. Destiny is an excuse for the weak. Why do you think most marriages end in divorce? It's 'cause people who believe they are “destined to be" assume everything will fall into place without any effort. I don't appreciate people pontificating bullshit like that just to make me feel better, especially if they haven't found their "soulmate" themselves. My sister once told me, “People who believe in soulmates are more likely to break up and encounter more difficulty in their relationship, which will lead them to give up on one another eventually.”

I sure do believe that.

My mother is a prime example. Fumeiko Suna, my dear mother. Well, she clearly hasn’t found hers. I found out when I came home after a tedious day of school in 5th grade and found my dear mother on the floor crying, with bruises all over her face and a busted lip.

Initially, I thought a burglar had broken into our home once again, but if that were the case then there would’ve been missing furniture. But there wasn’t.

In fact, the place seemed cleaner than usual. When I ran up to her and asked her what had happened, there he was. The devil himself. My father. He reeked of alcohol, and I could detect his shadow towering over me. It’s funny how that I think of it. I used to fear that son of a bitch. Now, I’m way taller than him, and hate his guts. I turned around to see a faux-sympathetic smile plastered on his face.

He explained how my mother was being “clumsy” and had fell and busted her lip on one of the corners of the kitchen table and when I turned back around to face my mother, she smiled gently and nodded in agreement. She didn’t say anything after that.

It was then I realized my father had beat my mother to a pulp.

Long story short, when I found it was my father, sure, I was frightened. In fact, I remember going into my siblings’ rooms to inform them, they shrugged it off and told me that dad had been doing it for a while now.

Over time, when my dad had found out that I was aware, he didn't mind beating the absolute shit out of my mother in front of all three of us. This was when my burning hatred for that man started. Nobody in the house even attempted to stop him. I did a few times, though. He took all his anger out on me. At least my mom had a break for the day.

I almost pitied my mother. Almost. Maybe if she was strong enough to leave him, then yeah, I’d feel bad. But she still decides to stay with his sorry ass. It’s pathetic. It’s unrequited love or whatever you call it. How could she still love that asshole?

I mean, I’m not even going to lie, I’m an asshole too, but I’m definitely not my dad. I would never want to be him. He’s not someone I looked up to, he doesn’t do anything inspirational. He’s a businessman. He travels the majority of the time, and I’m pretty sure my mom invites men over when he’s gone. I don’t care enough to find out. But if I ever hear some guy rearranging my mom’s guts, I’ll kill him. I don’t even blame my mother. What she’s doing is wrong, she knows it and so do both of my older siblings. But they don't seem to care so why should I?

Who knows why she just won’t leave him. Maybe it’s cause they don’t want to ruin how people view our “picture perfect” family. I wonder what they’d say. “I thought the Suna’s were the ideal family? I guess not.”

My dad would probably lose it if he heard that.

Both my mother and my father are the cause of this broken family of mine. They never fed me or any of my siblings the love we always desired when we were younger. They never came to any of my volleyball games when I was younger. They never applauded me for the little recitals we’d have in class in primary school. They were never even here for most of my childhood. They always put money first and left us with the housekeepers. Hell, the housekeepers probably know me better than my own parents.They failed as parents. I despise them for it. They’re most likely the reason I am the way I am, but to be honest?

I don’t give a fuck.

In fact, I should thank them! Because of how they “raised” me, i’m extremely blunt, which is why people respect me. I use the hatred I have for my family and take it out on people and no, I’m not proud of that. I may be a heartless asshole, but I like that people fear me. The hell? Does that make me a sadist? Either way, people know to never fuck with me cause I’d fuck their shit up. I’ve overheard many people say it’s ‘cause of my privilege. It probably is. Money can’t buy happiness, but it sure can buy you many other things.

If my parents were broke, I’d probably be expelled from school by now. Abuse of alcohol and drugs are forbidden on school property. I don’t even take them at school, I somewhat care about my education and health, but sometimes I just need to blow some steam. Even if I did, nobody’s gonna say shit since my dad is the head of Japan’s board of education. How did his ass even get there?

Call me lonely or cynical. Maybe I am. But how is that a bad thing? Why do people need a significant other to rely on? What, a soulmate is just going to turn my life upside down then suddenly bring me happiness? Pfft, I’m gonna need actual proof that shit like that still happens. I’ve only seen shit like that in fairy tale movies. It’s whatever, though. I can live with being alone. I’ve basically been alone my whole life and it isn’t as bad as people make it.

You loved the idea of having a soulmate. The thought of meeting someone who just understood you, accepted you for who you were, and most importantly, loved you excited you. You couldn’t wait to meet your soulmate.

But recently, you weren’t sure soulmates existed.

When your older sister, Akira, came into your room and burst into tears, it frightened you. Your older sister, the one who’d always provide you advice on relationships and how to keep one was in your room sobbing hysterically because hers hadn’t worked out.

“I just can't believe it,” she sobbed.

You couldn’t believe it either. Your sister had recently gotten engaged to her boyfriend of 9 years. They started dating at the age of 15 and managed to make things work out even after high school, and out of all those years of dating, they never broke up. Not even once.

They’d go on romantic dates on Saturdays and they’d always write love letters to one another every day, just to remind one another of how grateful they were to have each other in their lives. On Halloween, they’d dress up as fictional characters from TV shows and books and take cute selfies and bake a bunch of sweets. They’d invite you to come bake with them, but you would politely deny. You knew they were only offering so you wouldn’t feel left out, which you appreciated.

Of course, they’d argue every now and then, but at the end of the day, they always managed to talk things out. Oh to have a relationship like theirs. They were everything you wanted to have in a relationship and more.

“I really thought he was the one for me, y’know?” No, you don’t know. But that doesn't matter. What mattered was cheering your sister up.

“Maybe he wasn’t ‘the one’ Akira, and that’s okay! People come and go all the time, soulmates come and go all the time as well-”

“You still believe soulmates are real, huh?” she let out a humorless laugh and sniffed her nose, “What If I missed my one shot at love, Y/N? What if I lost my soulmate?”

That’s some deep shit.

Now that you think about it, were soulmates real? Soulmates come and go, yes, you’re aware of that, but even though they leave, it’s always temporary. Soulmates always find a way back to their other half, the piece that completes them.

Your dad never made it back to your mother.

He died in a car crash 5 years ago. Your mother and father had been arguing because she claimed your father was cheating on her since he wouldn’t let her check his phone.

You were 13 at the time. Your sister Akira was accompanying you in your room, listening to them arguing back and forth with one another. There was furniture flying across the room, glass breaking, and both of them throwing curses at each other. You were scared. They never argued in front of you and your sister. They'd bicker sometimes, but it was never anything too deep.

Eventually, your father had enough of your mother’s false accusations, and out of anger, he packed his things and left home. For weeks. It wasn’t until one of your uncles called your mother and broke the news. She didn’t take it very well.

Late 2012-early 2013.

Not many people came to your father’s funeral, his family didn’t like the fact that he and your mother were together, they said your mother was trouble, but your dad still stayed with her, even if that meant it would completely destroy the bond he had with his family. Now that’s true love, you had thought. Only your mother, Akira, the Sunas, your uncle, and you, of course, attended the funeral.

It hurt a lot. It hurt when your mother informed both your grandparents on your mother and father’s side and all they could do is put the blame on her. It hurt how they had claimed you, Akira and your mother were a hindrance to your dear father’s well-being. How could they be so cruel at a time like this?

That was the first time you ever questioned if soulmates were real. Maybe they fell in love at the wrong time? Who knows.

After your father’s passing, Fumiko Suna, your mother’s best friend, was there to help your family out financially. Your mother couldn’t even find the motivating to go to work. Your mother and Fumiko have been best friends since junior high, they’ve literally been inseparable ever since. In fact, after they both got married, they decided to live right next to each other.

Your mom didn’t cope with your father’s death very well; none of you did. But your mom had it the worst.

She would cope with alcohol and clubbing which would always result in her bringing different men home almost every night. You didn’t say much about it, you thought it would be selfish to since that’s what seemed to make your mother feel better about herself, but your sister hated it. She was already 19 and in college at the time, but when she visited and found out that your mother had basically been neglecting you, she was furious.

“Seriously, mom? This is what you’re gonna do while your 13-year-old daughter is in her room having a literal mental breakdown because of your childish behavior?” Your sister had barged into your mother’s room when she thought you were asleep, she was screaming loud.

“You’re interrupting something important, Akira. You know better than to-”

“Oh, shut the hell up mom. You’re the last person on earth to be saying shit like that.”

“Well, if you’re done, you can leave my room now. You’re being disrespectful, and this behavior is not tolerated!” Your mother was screaming now. The man in the bed covering his body under the covers and looking back and forth between Akira and your mother.

“Sakiya, maybe you should hear your daughter out-”

“Not now.” your mother scarcely interrupted the man, eye contact never leaving Akira. “Y/N has never complained about this when you were in college. She knows this is my way of coping, why can’t you understand that too!”

Akira scoffed. “So what, getting fucked by random strangers you find on the filthy streets is your way of coping? Getting wasted every damn night to the point where Y/N has to drag you up to bed is okay with you? Do you even know how much this is affecting Y/N? Did you even bother asking her how she felt? I hate breaking it to you mom, but you need serious help.”

“You selfish child!” Your mother screamed, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around her body, getting up from the bed. “How dare you say that to your own mother?”

“I’m only telling the truth! If you’re the mother, then it’s your job to be taking care of Y/N, not neglecting her. When’s the last time you’ve engross in an actual conversation with her when you were fully sober?”

Your mother was silent. She quickly walked up to Akira and grabbed her by the hair and slammed her headfirst against the wall.

“You’ve got a big mouth! Maybe I should wash it with soap like I did back in the day, hm?” Akira was attempting to push her mother away, but she wouldn’t let go of her grip. The man that was still on your mother’s bed was in panic, yelling her name, which didn’t have any effect. He might as well stop.

"Look," Akira mumbled, struggling to get away from your mother's grip, "I know it's been hard ever since dad left-"

“Mom! Let go of her!” You cried from the door of her room.

All 3 adults froze and looked at your glassy eyes, mouths wide open.

“Hey, kiddo, I thought you were asleep?” Akira playfully said, your mother let go of Akira and crossed her arms then looked away from you.

“Well, I can't really go to sleep when there’s a bunch of adults yelling about my well-being,” you muttered incoherently. You quickly wiped the uncontrollable tears off your face and sighed.

“Honey,” your mom started, she walked slowly to you, carefully examined your face, and attempted to hug you, but you didn’t accept the offer which made your mother frown. She stopped walking until she was almost face to face with you and placed a hand on your shoulder gently. “Baby, your sister told me that you weren’t happy. Is this true?”

You looked away from her and stared dully at the floor, subtly shifting your feet, then you softly shook your head “no.”

“See Akira, Y/N is happy. So please stop stressing her out.” Your mother said through gritted teeth, then faced you once again. “Y/N honey, how about I go tuck you into bed, hm? I’m so sorry for the excessive noise that was caused.”

“Mom, how clueless can you be? Y/N looks miserable! It’s unhealthy for Y/N to be living-“

Slap.

Your mother just slapped Akira on the face.

“I know what’s best for my daughter! I am her mother! You are not the one who should be telling me how to take care of my own kid!”

“That’s enough, Sakiya.” a familiar voice said from the door.

“Fumeiko-“

“It’s fine. Sakiya, we need to talk.” It was Fumeiko Suna, your mother’s best friend, also known as your next door neighbor. She had been standing in the hallways the whole time, you didn’t even know she was there. Akira was the one who called her over.

That night your mother agreed to get help for her drinking problem. She was gone for 6 months. During those 6 months, the Suna’s took you in since Akira would be in college and you couldn’t have been more grateful.

You and Rintaro were the only kids in the house, being that you both were the same age and the others were in college. It was okay, they were all very polite, dinners were awkward, you could feel some sort of tension between the family but you didn’t pay any attention to it.

When your mom finally came back, it was awkward at first. She still seemed the same, loving and caring, just sober and free of alcohol. It was nice. You two spent the weekends bonding at the mall, watching a movie, or even getting your nails done. Eventually, she gained your trust back, and you couldn’t have been happier.

January 2017.

“Akira, don’t say that. You may not believe me now, but you are such an amazing person, don’t ever think you’ll never find love again. It’s all about having a positive mindset!” you said, thoughtfully stroking her hair as her head laid on your chest.

“I told you that.”

“You did,” you chuckled, “you should take your own advice.

“Oh, shut up!” you both laughed, and Akira let out a shaky sigh. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Of course, you don't need to thank me. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

— so this is one of the writings that i wrote in January 😭 it’s been in my drafts and i re-read it once and instantly hated it right after. if there’s any typos please tell me!!

— also i wanna apologize again for putting gmds on hiatus,, i feel so bad 😭 i wanna make it up to you guys but idk how so if you have suggestions pls tell me

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years ago

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Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 14

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

“It was so good to see you, Will,” Valerie says in a muffled voice against his chest as he has her wrapped up tightly in a bear hug.

“I know, I’m so glad I ran into you,” Mulder replies, brushing his hands over her back. He pulls away and kisses her softly on the cheek.

“It makes me really happy to see you so happy,” she says with a smile, her long brunette hair lifting softly in the breeze, brown eyes holding affection that can only be held between two people who have the type of bond that can withstand a breakup and then a transition from lovers to friends.

“Likewise,” he says, nodding towards the small swell of her growing belly.

“I’d love to meet your girlfriend someday, if you think she’d be okay with that,” she says, collecting her purse.

“Yes, I’d really like that. I think you two would get along really well, actually,” he says, and she smirks at him.

“You’re not afraid we’ll bond over having to sit through your shitty movie collection?” she teases, and he laughs good-naturedly.

“Hey, Scully likes my shitty movies, that’s why we’re a perfect match,” he retorts.

She squeezes his arm.

“Call me sometime, okay?”

He nods and watches her walk away, feeling like he’s on cloud nine. A great friendship with his ex-girlfriend, a promising new love with the woman of his dreams; he can only imagine what lies in store next. He practically skips on the walk back to his car, wondering if Scully might let him come by tonight, hoping that he won’t have to wait until the weekend to see her again. He decides to call her as soon as he gets home.

The first few times he gets her machine, he assumes she must be at her mother’s. When she still hasn’t answered or called back by 9:00 pm, he’s confused. When he emails her the next morning and still hasn’t gotten a response at 10:00am, he’s officially worried.

Something is wrong.

———

She had eventually turned off the ringer on her phone and put the volume all the way down on her answering machine so she wouldn’t have to hear his increasingly obsessive attempts to get ahold of her, then slept fitfully all night.

She knows that she needs to give him some kind of response or he’ll show up on her doorstep, but she can’t bring herself to face him, even in voice. Every time the image of him with that woman pops back into her head, she feels a lump form in her throat immediately, a sick sadness welling in her belly. She’s pored over every memory in her mind, every interaction they’ve had, searching for signs. Signs that he was seeing someone else, that he wasn’t interested in anything other than getting in her pants, that he was lying to her. Her thorough inventory brings up next to nothing, which almost makes it worse; how adept he must have been at creating a false reality for her to exist in. Perhaps he’s garnered some tips from the sociopaths he studies, or maybe his background in psychology allowed him to manipulate her.

When she arrives at work, she is unsurprised though still dismayed to see an email waiting for her.

From: [email protected]

Sent: May 5, 1997 7:57 am

To: [email protected]

Subject: Where are you?

Scully, you’re freaking me out. Are you okay? Please respond.

She deletes it immediately and tries to focus on work. She performs an autopsy and teaches a class, both welcome distractions from her emotional torment. Just before 11:00 am, the phone rings.

“Autopsy bay, this is Trudy…yep, she’s here, one second.”

Trudy turns and opens her mouth to speak, but sees Dana waving her arms and shaking her head. She makes a confused face and puts the phone back to her ear.

“Oh, actually she just stepped out, sorry. Can I take a message?”

She watches as Trudy scribbles something on a piece of paper.

“Uh huh…yes. Okay, I’ll tell her…you have my word.”

She replaces the phone on the receiver and hands Dana the paper with a sympathetic frown.

“Trouble in paradise?” she asks rhetorically.

Dana looks down and deciphers Trudy’s messy scrawl.

Call Mulder immediately. Send a sign of life.

She crumples it up and tosses it into the trash can.

“You wanna talk about it?” Trudy asks.

“Nope,” Dana replies, turning back to the computer.

From: [email protected]

Sent: May 5th, 1997 11:03am

To: [email protected]

Subject: PLEASE RESPOND

Scully, I don’t know what the hell is going on, but if you don’t reply to this within an hour I’m driving down there.

Please respond

She feels fresh tears well in her eyes. Why is he trying so hard if he’s seeing someone else anyway? Why is he doing this to her? With a surge of anger, she hits reply.

From: [email protected]

Sent: May 5th, 1997 11:05am

To: [email protected]

Subject: RE:PLEASE RESPOND

I’m fine, Mulder. Please just give me some space.

With that she closes her email, begs someone to take her second class of the day, and goes home.

———

He feels like he’s stepped into an alternate universe. He’d left her happy and satisfied, and out of nowhere she’s shutting him out. What does she need space for? Space from him? Why? Did he come on too strong and freak her out? He thought they’d moved past that. He picks up the phone again.

“Autopsy bay, this is Trudy.”

“Trudy, it’s Agent Mulder again. Look, I don’t want to put you in an awkward position, but is Dana there?”

She pauses. “No, she went home for the day. She seemed pretty upset.”

“Do you have any idea why?” he implores.

“No, other than the fact that it seems to be directed at you.”

“Yeah, that much I gathered. Thanks, Trudy, sorry to bother you.”

“No worries, good luck.”

He slams the phone down, grabs his jacket off the back of his chair and leaves.

———

She is half expecting his knock, but it still makes her jump, nearly causing her to spill her wine. She wants to just ignore him until he goes away, but she knows his proclivity towards persistence won’t let him do that. Better to just get it over with, she thinks as she slumps towards the door.

The second she lays eyes on him in his slacks and dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his tie discarded, she feels her chin pucker and tears threaten her eyes. As angry as she is, she immediately wants to go to him, to curl up within his embrace so he can comfort her. The problem is, what she needs comforting from is him.

“What is going on?” he says with a mix of frustration and fear.

She stands in the open doorway, not making space for him to enter.

“I saw you,” she says, her voice strained with emotion.

“You saw me...what?” he asks, his face a mask of confusion.

She lifts her chin, clenching her jaw and summoning strength.

“I saw you with her. Yesterday, at the Bluebird Cafe. After I had lunch with my family.” her voice holds steady, anger carrying her through.

His face falls and her gut twists. She wishes she didn’t have to watch this.

“THAT is what this is about?” he asks, but there’s no shame or regret in his voice. If anything, he sounds a little mad.

She nods curtly.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he spits out, and she recoils a little at his vitriol. “Let me in, Scully. Right now,” he demands, and against her better judgement she moves aside.

He pushes past her into the apartment and she closes the door softly, leaving it unlocked in case either of them decides to make a hasty exit.

“Did you consider,” he begins, his back to her, “maybe, I don’t know, asking me about what you saw?” He turns to face her, one hand on his hip and his face contorted with anger. “Or were you just planning to avoid me until I gave up and went away again?”

She doesn’t know what to say. She’s confused about why he’s yelling at her when he’s the one who did something wrong. She just looks at him, expressionless.

He juts his chin out expectantly, waiting for an answer, but gets none. She averts her eyes.

“Is that all this is worth to you, Scully?” he continues, “you’re ready to throw this away over a simple misunderstanding, without even talking to me?”

She lifts her head and looks at him with a pained expression. “Okay then, talk,” she gets out.

He drops his head in frustration. “The woman you saw me with,” he says flatly, lifting his head to meet her eye, “was my ex-girlfriend, Valerie. I ran into her while I was running errands yesterday, and we had lunch. She has a boyfriend and is three months pregnant. We spent the majority of our meal together talking about you.”

She shakes her head gently, her throat closing as a tear rolls down her cheek. “I saw you kiss her,” she whispers, her jaw quivering.

“You saw me kiss her on the cheek? I also kiss my mother on the cheek, Scully, it’s hardly an intimate gesture.”

She feels a new wave of sickness pass over her, but this time it’s entirely different. This time it’s the sick feeling of realizing that she was very, very, wrong, and that she has, yet again, hurt the man who loves her. She opens her mouth to speak but she can’t find the right words.

He steps forward but doesn’t touch her. When he speaks, his voice is softer, more defeated than anything else.

“I’m sorry that you saw something that upset you. But if you actually thought for a single second that I want to be with anyone but you, you’re fucking insane. I meant what I said the day you left my apartment last year. I felt it then, and I feel it now. I want this to work more than anything, Scully, but for that to be possible you have to trust me. I can’t live with the knowledge that you might just shut me out at a moment’s notice when you get scared.”

She keeps her head down, overwhelmed by a combination of shame, embarrassment, and gratitude that he wouldn’t let her walk away. She does not deserve this man, but she wants to.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, still unable to meet his eye.

“I know you are,” he replies, moving towards the door. “Take the space you need, and let me know when you’re ready to trust me.”

When she hears the click of the door closing behind him, she collapses to the floor, sobbing for so many reasons she couldn’t possibly name them all. When it’s faded to snivels and hiccups, she stands and goes to the hallway, picking up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Missy,” she chokes out, “Can you come over?”

———

He’s not sure if leaving was the right thing to do. The risk that she might not come back around is one that sends his stomach into knots, but at the same time he finds it hard to accept that she wasn’t even going to give him the opportunity to explain. He’s been actively working to temper expressing his feelings so he doesn’t overwhelm her, but then she gets it in her head that he’s not invested. It feels like he can’t win.

He goes back to work and stops by Kirkbride’s office to apologize for disappearing. Kirkbride just gives him a quizzical look, clearly not having noticed he had left. The rest of the day he buckles down on his caseload, distracting himself from the catastrophic thoughts that dance through his head, and gets more work done than he has in quite a while. When he leaves the office just after 5:00 pm, he feels melancholy and grouchy, and annoyed that he left the ball in her court.

The elevator dings to announce his arrival on the fourth floor and he steps out with a takeout bag in his hand, eyes downcast. Halfway down the hall, he readies his key and looks up, startling when he sees Scully sitting on the floor against his door, knees tucked up against her chest and her forehead resting on her kneecaps. She’s very still, and as he gets closer he realizes that she’s asleep. His heart aches knowing that she’s been waiting that long, that she didn’t want to leave without talking to him.

He crouches down beside her, setting his dinner on the floor, and gently touches her shoulder. She jerks, her head snapping up and her eyes wild for a moment while she tries to orient herself. When she focuses on him, she immediately starts crying, reaching out to wrap her arms around his neck. He’s surprised by her uncharacteristically emotional response, but says nothing and just holds her until his knees start to ache, at which point he sits down on the floor and pulls her into his lap. They stay this way for several minutes, long enough for one of his neighbors to walk by and politely avert their eyes, entering their apartment as though there was nothing out of the ordinary happening in the hallway. When the crying seems to have subsided a bit, he gives her a little squeeze.

“Wanna go inside?” he asks, and she nods against his chest, his shirt damp from her tears.

She stands unsteadily and he follows her, grabbing the takeout bag off the floor. They enter the apartment and Priscilla plods up to them with an excited meow. Scully leans down and picks her up, tucking the cat against her neck as they nuzzle each other. Mulder smiles at them with a bemused expression.

“She was talking to me through the door,” Scully says with a small smile, “she heard me knocking and was meowing from the other side. We had a conversation.”

Affection swells in his chest and he steps forward to kiss her. Her shoulders drop and she lets Priscilla down so she can get closer, threading her arms around his waist and kissing him back in earnest. Desperate, thought I’d lost you again kisses that are as arousing as they are a relief, because he knows that they will be okay.

He pulls back a little and she makes a whimpering sound in protest.

“I’m gonna go change really quick, okay? Then can we talk?” he asks, and she sighs and nods. “You can have half my Chinese,” he adds, and she gives him a tight-lipped smile.

When he sits on the couch beside her five minutes later, she scoots closer so they are pressed against each other, and he gathers that she needs physical closeness right now. He loops an arm around her shoulder and she crawls right back into his lap, curled against him as though trying to fuse her body to his own. Her head tucked beneath his chin, she holds one of his hands in her lap, fingers laced tightly together, and begins to speak.

“After you left, Missy came over and we talked for a long time. I’ve come to realize how much I’m still affected by...what happened last year. I harbor a lot of guilt for being unfaithful to Ethan, and that’s actually largely why I married him even though I knew my heart wasn’t in it.” She pulls in a deep breath, pressing their joined hands tight against her belly, trying to get even closer. “When you and I reconnected, in a way it felt like a chance to validate it. As though things working out with us would mean that what I did wasn’t as bad, because there was something real between us. But at the same time, a big part of me doesn’t believe that I deserve to be happy.” Her voice remains steady, but he feels the wet drop of a tear on the back of his hand.

He tightens his arm around her waist. “I’ve always been a person who values doing the right thing, and integrity was something that was very important to my father. It was his measure of a person’s character, and that’s something he instilled in me as well.” She sits up a bit so she can look at him, and his heart breaks at her red-rimmed eyes, her icy irises so mournful. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Mulder. You haven’t given me any reason not to. It’s just that I don’t feel like I deserve this, especially with you, and I’m waiting for the moment it all comes crashing down. So when I saw you with that woman, it was almost like I’d been waiting for it, expecting it. Getting what I deserved.”

He brings his palms to her cheeks, brushing away the tears with his thumbs.

“Thank you for telling me that,” he says softly. “I wish I could change how you feel, but I know that I can’t. I do know how it feels to spend your life harboring guilt over something you could have done differently, and I can tell you that punishing yourself won’t make it any easier. It makes me really sad that you’ll always regret how we met.”

She closes her eyes and shakes her head gently. When she opens them, her expression is more tender than it is mournful.

“I don’t regret it, Mulder. I do feel guilt, and shame, for not ending it with Ethan so we could have done things the right way, but I could never regret meeting you.”

He pulls her back into an embrace, her arms wrapping around his ribcage, and plants a kiss to the top of her head.

“Are we okay?” he asks softly.

“I hope so,” she says hoarsely.

“Is this a bad time to tell you that Valerie wants to meet you sometime?” he asks, and she laughs.

“I don’t know, did you tell her that I freaked out on you because you had lunch with her?” she replies, and he can already hear her tone shifting back to their typical lighthearted banter.

“No, of course not. That’ll be our little secret. Well, plus Trudy. I think Trudy knows too much honestly.”

She laughs again, and god he could spend the rest of his life trying to make her laugh. In fact, that’s exactly what he hopes to do.

“Speaking of meeting people,” she continues, “Missy mentioned you to my mother yesterday and she wants to meet you.”

A grin stretches across his mouth, but he doesn’t say anything. She pulls back to look at his face, to gauge his reaction, and smiles softly in response.

“You want me to meet your mom?” he asks, the delight on his face carrying over to his voice.

Her mouth screws up shyly. “My little brother will probably be there too, and Missy. Is that too much?”

He shakes his head. “Sounds perfect. But, there are some friends I’d like you to meet too, if we’re meeting people.”

“The Lone Gunmen?” she asks with a skeptical lilt.

“Those are the ones. They’re my only friends, actually. Aside from Val.” Just then, Priscilla hops up onto the couch beside them. “Oh, and you Priscilla, sorry,” he adds.

Scully smiles at the cat, and then at him. “Can I bring Missy as a human buffer?” she asks hopefully.

“Of course. You may set a record for the highest number of female visitors to their lair in a day.”

“Lair?” she asks with wide eyes.

He chuckles. “They’ll grow on you, I promise.”

#the x files #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #txf #msr #sculder #x files fanfic #alternate universe

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suckitsurveys · 2 years ago

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What color are your eyes? Green. Is anyone you work with currently on maternity leave or vacation? Yeah, my coworker is on vacation. Favorite boys name? Alex, Brendon, Artie, Eli Baked macaroni and cheese or regular? Both are good and I want to eat both right now thanks. What’s the first thing you learned how to draw? I don’t remember.

Name one of your friends’ children: My friends don’t have kids. What was the name of your 5th grade teacher? Mr. J. Sterling silver or titanium? Sterling silver. How many hours do you work in a day? 8. Sometimes more. Have you ever been to a casino? Yes. Who wrote the last book you read? Raphael Bob-Waksberg. What’s the middle name of your bestfriend? Ann, Allen, Marie, Raymond. What’s your favorite food? Sushi. How far away do you live from the closest aquarium? There’s one downtown, so like 20 minutes. Favorite girls name? Josie, Cecelia, Alex, Stella, Ramona. Name one of your candle scents: Gardenia. What’s the name of your favorite restaurant? Anywhere with sushi. Are you in a relationship? If so, how long? Yes. 11 years. Who in your family has a birthday in January? My mother. When was the last time you lost power? How long was it out and the cause? We lost power in the office on Monday because it was really windy. Do you know any twins? Yes. What’s your favorite flower? Gardenia. Pick 3 random colors: Purple, turquoise, baby pink Would you ever dye your hair that color? My hair has been all three of those at once lol. Do you own any underwear that color? Yeah. Can this be used as a last name? Eh. What’s your favorite country song? I don’t really have a favorite but I do enjoy Dolly Parton and Johnny Cash. Do you drink alcohol? Occasionally. Do you use any food delivery services such as UberEats, DoorDash, etc? Sometimes. What color is your mailbox? Gray. What is one school supply that is mainly needed? Writing utensils. What age did you lose your virginity? 20. Dogs or cats? Cats. Do you know anyone who’s been to prison? Yes. What’s one thing on your shopping list? Nothing at the moment. Freeze tag or musical chairs? Freeze tag was the besssst. Where did you go on your last vacation? To a waterpark resort in the Dells. Have you ever been stuck in the mud? No. What was the last thing you took a picture of? A bug. Name someone you work with: Lucy. How far away is the closest Walmart? From here? Like 10 minutes. Chick-fil-A, Taco Bell or McDonald’s? Taco Bell but I go to McDonald’s more often. Also fuck Chick-fil-A. Did you ever get an allowance as a child? No. I was just given money when I (very rarely) asked. What food do you see the most of at baby showers? My sister had Popeyes catered to her first baby shower so *shrugs* Do you know the capital of your state? Yes. Have you ever rode on a motorcycle? Nope. When’s the last time you ate any type of sweet? I had ice cream yesterday. Pizza rolls or bagel bites? Pizza Rolls. What kind of flooring is in the room you’re in? Carpet. Is the internet connection good where you live at? Yeah. Do you need to do laundry? No. What’s your favorite scent? Gardenia, rain, coconut. Have you ever lived in a hotel before? No. What kind of pets does your grandmother have? I have no living grandmothers. Do you follow any type of trials? No. What’s the last show you really got into that you have to wait for the next season of? A League of Their Own, Stranger Things, Never Have I Ever, Tuca and Bertie. SpongeBob or Patrick? Sandy. When’s the last time you seen fireworks? On the 4th. Have you ever witnessed a car accident? Yes. Do you own a pair of fuzzy socks? I do. What kind of ice cream is your favorite? Butter pecan. I also like cookie dough. Have you ever been skinny dipping? Yes. Sprinkles or frosting? Frosting. Do you like mushrooms? Yes. How many tattoos do you have? Ten. Do you own any type of hand sanitizers? Oh yes it’s 2022 yall. Have you ever worked in a grocery store? No. What’s your Subway order? I haven’t eaten at Subway in YEARS but my go to was the sweet onion chicken teryaki on italian herbs and cheese bread. With the sweet onion sauce and honey mustard. I may have to try it again because that actually sounds pretty good, but the last time I had it I was grossed out. When was the last time you used the bathroom? Like 20 minutes ago. Do you know how to roller skate? For the most part. Can you read sheet music? No. How old is your youngest sibling? I am the youngest sibling. Do you have an Amazon account? I do. What day is payday? Every other Friday. What’s one food your family has at Thanksgiving? My dad’s cornbread and andoullie sausage stuffing. Do you like painting? Sure. Have you ever been swimming with dolphins? No. What’s your favorite snack food? Chips and salsa or popcorn. You’re watching Law & Order, is it the regular or SVU? I’m not really into that show. What was you doing last time it snowed? Probably complaining about it. Do you have to sleep with a fan on? Yes. Chapstick or lip gloss? Chapstick. When was the last time you took a shower? Monday. Do you know how to play basketball? Yes. Name one thing you put on a salad: Croutons. Do you own anything that’s your favorite color? Of course. What’s the last thing you ordered from a Mexican restaurant? Tacos and chips and guac. Do you carry a purse or a backpack? Purse. What kind of soda is your favorite? Barq’s Root Beer. Have you ever cut yourself shaving? Yes. Penguins or pandas? Pandas. Do you like your in-laws? Yes. What do you usually do for Christmas? We have family over on Christmas eve and then in the morning we open presents with my nieces. Have you ever used any type of Aromatherapy? Yeah. Toe socks or ankle socks? Ankle socks. Who’s your favorite Pokémon character? Pikachu. I know I’m basic but I love him so much. What’s the temperature range in your area? It’s in the upper 70s. Does your trash need to be taken out? No, Mark did it last night. Nachos or chips and salsa? Both are good but chips and salsa. What’s the name of your pets? Ramona, Friday, and Sake. Have you been around anyone that creeped you out? Yes. What’s your Chick-fil-A order? I don’t fucking eat at homophobic restaurants, thanks. Regular or pink lemonade? Regular. Do you know anyone who’s lost their house in a natural disaster? Yes. What’s your favorite candy? Reese’s Pieces, Kit Kats, and Sour Patch Kids. Chinese or Japanese cuisine? Japanese. Colored pencils or sharpies? Sharpies. Do you own a pair of Crocs? No. Have you ever been to DisneyWorld? Nope. Does anyone in your family have a birthday in February? Yes, two of my cousins do. How long does it take for your phone to fully charge? I use fast chargers, so not long at all. What color is your hairbrush? I have a black one and a grey one. Is there any movies out that you want to see? I kinda want to see Don’t Worry Darling. Do you know how to run a cash register? For the most part. Chicken or beef noodles? Chicken. What year did you get your drivers license? I was 21, so 2010. Do you have any piercings? Yes. 1 in my right ear, 3 in my left, and 1 in my right nostril. What kind of makeup do you wear? Rarely any. What’s your Taco Bell order? 3 supreme tacos with a bajajajajajaja blast. Do you wear any type of shimmer spray or glitter? No. Have you ever lived in a trailer/doublewide? No. What’s your boyfriends/girlfriends middle name? Allen. Are you into anime? Not really. Pizza or nacho lunchables? There were nacho lunchables?? Have you ever been to a strip club? No. Do you know how to play any instruments? Nope. Have you ever been inside of a courtroom? Yes. What kind of restaurants do you eat at while you’re on vacation? Usually whatever is local or specific to the area. Did you ever participate in any pageants when you were younger? No. What kind of cheese is your favorite? Goat cheese and cheddar. Does your phone have any cracks or scuffs? I just changed my phone case, so no. It’s a little dirty, but that’s just from fingerprints. Have you ever had a professional massage? Nope. Which would you rather have, twins or triplets? I don’t want kids. Do you drink energy drinks? No. Can you swim? Yes. Make the perfect taco salad: I’d rather just have a taco. Have you ever lived with friends or a roommate? No, just the husband. Who in your family has a birthday in March? A couple of my cousins. What kind of pasta do you like? All of it. Covered in sauce, cheese, or pesto. Do you know how to play volleyball? I don’t play, but I know how it’s played. How much decorating do you do around the holidays? A good amount. Have you ever been on a cruise? Yes, down a river. and a dinner cruise on a lake. At what age did you learn how to tie your shoes? Like 4. Oreos or chocolate chip cookies? Oreos. What did you dress up for Halloween as a child? I was a ballerina, a ghost, a witch, the Pink Ranger, a “hollywood cat,” a vampire, a mouse, a bunny...those are all the ones that come to mind when I think of things I was as a kid. I was also Little Pete from the Adventures of Pete and Pete in my mid teens, and Hannah Montana one year too. And a pirate and a bat. Can you count to ten in Spanish? Yes. Name a character from your favorite TV show: Princess Carolyn. Do you like going to arcades? Yes. What was the last personal care item you bought from the store? Pimple treatment. Airplanes or helicopters? Airplanes. Have you ever been camping for more than a week? Not for more than a week, no. What kind of meat do you like the most? Seafood and Chicken. Chicken or Buffalo wings? Um. Buffalo wings are chicken. Do you actually stop and pet dogs you actually see? If they come up to me and the owner is friendly I will ask. Have you ever been in an ambulance? Nope. What’s the craziest thing you’ve found at a hotel before? Nothing too weird. How far is the closest Target? Like a 5 minute walk. Snakes or spiders? Spiders. What’s your Panera Bread order? I think I’ve had Panera like 3 times in my life and I cannot remember what i ordered. Do you have any cool keychains? Sure. How old is your oldest living grandparent? They’ve all passed. Do you watch movies? Uh, yes? Who in your family has a birthday in April? My dad and two cousins. Also two of my best friends were born in April. Have you ever had your nails done professionally? Oh yes, at least once a month. I am actually getting them done today, and then getting a pedi tomorrow. What color Christmas tree do you use? We get real trees. What’s your go to dipping sauces? Depends on what I am eating. Do you know how to properly pack a U-Haul truck? Sure. What was your least favorite math? I HATED doing “proofs” in geometry. Have you ever been published in a magazine? No. What color is your snow gloves? Black. How old were you when you last went to the dentist? I was in my 20s. Do you own a printer? A 3D printer. What’s your Applebees order? I haven’t been to Applebees in like 15 years. Do you bring home seashells from the beach? Sometimes. Have you ever jumped on a trampoline with …with?

What kind of video games do you play? I play stuff on my phone and sometimes WII bowling. Is anyone in your family in law enforcement? I don’t believe so. How long ago was the last funeral you attended? I believe that was for Matt but I am completely blanking on the year. It was a few years ago though. What color is the blanket on your bed? Grey. Where did you get your name from? My parents. Do you wear lipstick? Sometimes. What’s a fruit you dislike? Raspberries and blackberries. What kind of donuts do you like? Jelly filled. Do you know how to braid hair? I can only do basic braids. What’s one accessory you wear? Earrings and nose ring. How many hoodies/jackets do you own? Several. What was the last name of the road you lived on? Nope. What brand of chocolate do you prefer? I don’t really have a favorite. Nike or Adidas? I don’t care. What will your future wedding colors be? I'm already married and we didn’t really have colors. I wore a sparkly blue dress though. Do you have a phone mount in your car? Yes. Make the perfect omelet: Swiss cheese, mushrooms, spinach. Ooo I wonder if I can get Mark to make me one Saturday morning. What’s the name of the air freshener closest to you? There isn’t one.

#surveys #this one is from work lol

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hemmingslftv · 4 years ago

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Not in the same way

Word count: 3k Warning: angst, mention of abortion. Requested: no but requests are open! A/N: hi! It's been almost a year since I last posted on here but I've had this idea on my mind for a while now and I just needed to write it down so here it is. I wrote it real quick so I don't think it's one of my best works. Enjoy! and, as always, any feedback is appreciated. Masterlist

- C'mon! We're gonna be late for your own party! - Ashton shouted while you ran down the stairs of the house you both shared as fast as you could with your high heels.

- I'm ready! - you said and you gave him a quick peck on his cheek while he grabbed the keys to your car.

It was your 25th birthday and Ashton had planned the perfect party. He had rented a house just outside of LA and you both wanted to get there before everyone arrived so you could welcome them. At first, you weren't so excited about the idea because you loved to spend time with your friends but you didn't really enjoy crowded places. But Ashton had convinced you that you only turn 25 once and you should celebrate it.

You arrived right after Calum, who was the first one to get there. One by one all your friends and family got there and you had to admit it was exciting to share the same space with everyone and to know that they were there for you. As the afternoon went by, you all had a few drinks and ate while chatting to each other, there was a chilled environment and you loved it.

When it was around 10PM, Ashton decided it was time for his speech. You knew it was coming sooner or later, he loved to speak in front of people and you loved to listen to him express his love for you so openly.

- Baby, can you come here for a bit? - he asked after everyone was silent. You blushed, the shyness that characterized you coming to the surface.

- Is it really necessary? - you asked making everyone laugh (even though it was a genuine question). Ashton smiled at you softly and you protested silently and started walking towards him.

- Thank you, love - he whispered once you were close enough so that only you would listen.

- So, as everyone already knows - he started his speech - it's y/n's 25th birthday today, which means she's getting old, but don't tell her or she'll freak out - you punched him jokingly on his arm and giggled - and it also means it's the 5th birthday I get to spend with the love of my life - he looked at you and you could see his eyes full of love, making you feel the luckiest girl on the planet. You stared at each other for apparently too long because Luke had to clear his throat to tell him to continue.

- Sorry, I got lost on her, it happens quite often - he said earning a few "aws" from the crowd - So, as I was saying, I couldn't have asked for a better person to spend my life with - he turned to face you and took your hands on his.

- y/n, I know you think I'm too cheesy or sentimental sometimes, but I need to tell you how I feel because I need you to feel loved. You've gone through so much and I've come to realize you must be the strongest person on earth because you have made it out of every possible situation, and always keeping a smile on your face. You've made me the man I am today, you helped me get out of my addiction and you stuck by my side when I didn't deserve you to, but I desperately needed you to. I think we both helped each other to love ourselves and we can put ourselves first in this relationship and I think that's what has kept us strong for a little bit over 5 years now. We went through the saddest event of our life together - you knew he was referring to the abortion you had almost a year ago that nobody knew about except for you two and you couldn't help but shed a few tears. You could tell his eyes were teary too and after a short pause, he continued - but we worked past it and we got out of it together, and stronger than we were before. y/n, you are the love of my life, you are the woman I want to wake up next to every day, my whole heart belongs to you and I couldn't imagine a future without you so - he said while kneeling down, making you cover your mouth with your hands as you realized what was going on.

- Ashton please don't - you tried to say, but you weren't sure if the words had actually come out of your mouth or if they were loud enough for him to listen. You were panicking more than you ever had before and you wished he was able to see it in your eyes. He was always so good at reading you, but this time he didn't, he was too excited himself to notice how your whole body tensed as he continued.

- So, y/f/n, do you wanna marry me? - he asked with hope and happiness written all over his face. You were frozen, this was the last thing you were expecting from this party and you felt suddenly trapped in your own body, unable to move. After a couple of seconds, Ashton tilted his head, waiting for your answer and you could tell he was starting to get nervous. - I... y/n? do you want to marry me? - he insisted and you snapped back to yourself but to everyone's surprise, you turned around and started running towards your car.

You ran as fast as you could. Halfway there you stopped to remove your heels and even though your heart was pumping louder than it ever had before you could listen to your best friend shouting for you to wait for her. But you didn't. You kept running until you got to your car and drove away.

As soon as you got home you started packing a bag. You didn't even know where you were going but you were more than sure you weren't welcome here anymore. You expected to cry at some point but you didn't, all you felt was numb. Not even 10 minutes after you had arrived you had your bag ready and you were about to leave your room when you heard the door open. "Shit" you muttered to yourself.

- Do you want me to stay? - you heard Calum ask from outside the door.

- No, it's fine. I can take it from here.

- Okay, call me if you need anything - he said before you heard the door closing. You took a deep breath, grabbed the bag, and started walking towards the door.

- Are you leaving? - Ashton asked as he saw you enter the living room. His tone wasn't an angry one, as you had expected, he sounded just sad. You were too ashamed to even look at him but you thought that was the least you could do and you built up the courage to look him in the eye.

- I guess, I didn't think you'd want me to stay here

- What? Why not? I wouldn't have asked you to marry me if I wanted you to leave

- No, I know, but I mean, after what just happened. Not only did I reject you but I also run away leaving you all alone to deal with the mess I made and I did it in front of all our friends

- Please stay, we need to talk - he said getting closer to you and you dropped the bag to the floor while he held your hand guiding you through your house. Both of you sat on the kitchen table, the place where you always had your serious talks - I need you, to be honest with me, do you not love me anymore? Have you fallen out of love with me? Is there... - he looked down for a second and you could see his jaw and hands clench - is there someone else you've been seeing? I know you always try to protect me but I need to know, I promise I can handle it

- No, no, no, no, why would you? Well, I mean, I can see why you would think that but no, since the day I met you, there's never been anyone else. And of course, I still love you, I love you more and more every day.

- You love me, just not in the same way I do, right?

- I don't know what you mean

- You say you love me, and I believe you, but you don't love me enough to marry me, is that it? Am I getting it right?

- No, I - you tried to reply

- 'Cause I would give my life for you, do you hear me? I would literally die if it meant you were safe. I'd do anything for you. And to be completely honest, I thought we were on the same page.

- We are, I promise, I would die for you too, Ash. But I don't know, I didn't expect you to ask me to be your wife just then and there, out of nowhere.

- Well, I guess that's the point, it's supposed to be a surprise, you know?

- Yeah, I know, but people talk about it first!

- C'mon! We've talked about it. I've told you a million times I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you and all those times you agreed, how was I supposed to know you didn't want to marry me?

- It's not that I don't want to. I do want to wake up next to you every morning and I definitely want to grow old with you.

- What's it then? Why did you run?

- I'm not sure. I panicked. I could perfectly picture us together in 10 years, 20 or 40, and with all our kids and grandkids but I don't know, being your wife? That's a responsibility I doubt I am good enough for. How do you know you won't get tired of me? I mean, I'm great, but we both know I'm not the best you could have. You could literally marry any girl, and you chose me. And I guess I hadn't realized that until tonight and it was just too much for my brain to process at the same time. I'm sorry I ruined everything. See? That's what I mean, I am not perfect.

- I don't want perfect babe, I want you. And I will always want you. You would be the best wife ever, I just know it. You've been the best girlfriend all these years, it's not gonna change because we change the label.

- So you don't hate me?

- Of course not, I could never hate you. I get it, maybe I should have talked to you first, not ruining the surprise but making sure you had in mind it could happen soon.

- Yeah, that would have been great - you smiled slightly and relaxed when he smiled back at you. You thought you had ruined your relationship and you could now see that nothing could ruin what you both had, it was too strong.

- By the way, I think your father hates me, I left him quite angry but I didn't really have time to deal with that.

- Oh god, I'm so sorry - you both laughed for a bit, and then you asked - Ash?

- Hmm? - he mumbled looking at you.

- I do want to marry you - you were sure about your decision, you knew there wasn't anyone better for you than him and if he was just as convinced, why not take it a step further?

- Yeah, you do? - he said while he got up from his seat and you did the same - then let me try this again - he reached for the velvet box in the pocket of his jeans.

- You know what? - you said taking the box from his hand - let me try this time - You knelt just as he had done almost an hour ago and took a deep breath - Ashton Irwin, you light up my days, you are the reason I wake up every morning, the first and the last thought I have every day. Every moment I spend with you becomes my favorite one so far and I haven't really had time to prepare this speech and you know I'm not as good as you with words but I love you. I've never known anyone with a busier schedule than yours and you have made time for me every single day I needed it, and I think that shows how much you care for me, and I want you to know I care just as much. Every single feeling you have for me, I have for you, and I couldn't picture my life without you. Ashton Fletcher Irwin, do you want to marry me? - you said as a few tears slipped down your cheeks.

- Yes, of course, I wanna marry you! - he cheered holding your arms and helping you get up so he could kiss you.

- I don't have a ring but you do so, do you mind doing the honors? - you said opening the velvet box. He took the silver ring at slid it down your finger. It fit perfectly and it was the most precious ring you had ever seen.

- Do you like it? - he asked while kissing your cheeks and nose, cleaning the tears that still run down your face.

- I love it boo, it's perfect - you kissed him and the kiss heated up quickly but you took a step back as soon as his grip on your waist got a bit loose.

- What are you doing? I want you - he pouted.

- I know, I want you too but I need to tell you something before - you ran to your purse to get a little present you had planned on giving to Ashton at your birthday party. When you got back to the kitchen, he was already shirtless. You groaned at the view and bit your lower lip - I told you to wait - you said shaking your head so you could focus.

- I can't, you're too hot! - he giggled.

- I love you. Open this - you said handing him the small package. He knitted his brows together.

- I have no idea what this is - he said starting to open it.

- I know - you pressed the record button on your phone without him realizing and put the phone on the countertop so it recorded his reaction. You were excited for him to finally know what you had kept to yourself for almost 4 months now.

- It's a box! - he joked while he ripped out the paper it was wrapped in. As soon as he opened it you could see the tears building upon his eyes and they started running eagerly down his face as he held the tiny converse shoes that were inside the box - Are you? Please tell me you're not kidding me - you shook your head 'no', not able to contain your tears either - Oh my god! Are you okay?

- Yes, we're perfectly fine and healthy - you said while he hugged you and spun you around - I'm 4 months in.

- You're what? And you haven't told me? Babe, you don't have to keep doing things on your own, I'm here for you now.

- I know, I just didn't want to get your hopes up just in case, you know, I failed again

- Don't, please. It wasn't your fault, those horrible things just happen and they shouldn't, but they do, there was nothing you could have done better - he put his hand on your belly softly making you shiver - So that's why you haven't been drinking lately - you nodded.

- And that's why I wasn't in the mood for morning sex either. To be honest, I thought that was gonna give it away.

- Well, I had no clue, I thought it was just a phase. I can't believe we're gonna be parents babe, and you planned on leaving me with our creation inside you? - he teased.

- I hadn't thought about that! okay? I have the perfect excuse, it was the hormones - you laughed and removed his hand off your belly so you could pull your dress up - if you look closely you can clearly see them growing, I think it's showing already.

- Oh my god! It totally is! How have I not noticed this?

- You're not the greatest observer I guess

- Yeah, I'm definitely not. Did you go to the doctor's appointments all by yourself?

- No, Calum always came with me, he's the only one who I knew would keep the secret.

- Calum? Oh, so that's why he was so sure you weren't cheating.

- Did you seriously thought I was seeing someone else? - you asked kind of hurt.

- No, not really. I guess I was just trying to go through every possible situation in my head so that it wouldn't take me by surprise.

- I'm sorry Ash - you said cupping his face with your hands - I shouldn't have run. It's the last thing you deserve. You've done nothing but be there for me all these years.

- So have you, it's okay. Are you ready to share the news with the world? - he asked with a sparkle in his eyes.

- I guess so, I was gonna tell you in front of everyone at the party, now that the first trimester is over the chances of it going

- Shh, don't even think about it. It's gonna be okay - he assured you while he hugged you from behind - let me capture this moment - he got his phone out of his pocket and took a picture of his hand holding yours, with the wedding ring on it, on your belly - perfect - he whispered once he was happy with the result.

He posted it on Instagram with the caption "I couldn't have asked for a better mum for my children, including the one that's on the way. Love you forever y/n, your future husband".

#5sos #ashton irwin #5sos blurb #5sos angst #5sos fluff #5sos fic #dad!sos #ashton irwin blurb #ashton irwin fic #ashton irwin angst #ashton irwin fluff #ashton irwin fanfic #5sos fanfic

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spacegirlapollo · 5 years ago

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Right Here, Right Now [Shouta Aizawa Smut]

Title: Right Here, Right Now

Genre: Fluff, Smut

Words: 3,379

Notes: It’s a little long sorry sksk. But if you wanna skip to the juicy bits, scroll down to the “Part Two” Line break. Enjoy! Also Going to be trying to do a Sinful Saturday series where I post Smut on Sundays. Right now it’s mainly Aizawa but will be other characters as im feeling it. Send a request if you want !

--------------------- Part One ------------------------

Out of everyone you knew, your husband, AIzawa Shouta, had the quietest footsteps you never heard. He developed the frightening skill, from his undercover hero work, years before he’d even become a teacher at U.A.

You took it as a sign of your strong relationship however that sometimes you could sense his presence, even if you couldn't hear him. You always enjoyed the surprised look on his face when you turned to see him whenever he was silently catwalking into a room.

And now was one of those times, there were no signs to say that he’d entered your shared bathroom, except that you knew he had.

You looked up from the countertop full of your makeup products to see him, looking at the slight mess you’d made of the sink area. Your mouth fell open when you saw the state that he was in.

“Shouta!” You exclaimed in genuine horror. “ What the fuck are you wearing?”

You hadn’t meant for the last part to come out. And even though Aizawa was fully aware of your tendency to have a sailor mouth, you still hadn’t meant to say it. But you were appalled at the solid black dress pants, horizontally striped dress shirt, and dark navy blue jacket that he was wearing. The more you looked at him the more you noticed that nothing he was wearing was matching.

His eyebrow twitched a bit, but he gave you an otherwise blank look. You sighed, closing the eyeliner bottle in your hand and placing it on the sink.

You had suspected, when you were younger and first began dating, that Aizawa lacked some fashion sense. He’d mostly stuck to black anytime he went outside so matching wasn't really a problem. It wasn’t until you begam spending the night with him, that you’d seen him put together outfits that made absolutely no sense. You’d always found it funny to see what he would toss on.

It had been decided, mostly by you, that for big events you’d pick out the clothes. And it had been years of this going smoothly. You suspected that since you dressed him so sharply, he’d gotten compliments, and that was why he continued to let you dress him up.

And before you’d gone into the bathroom to fix your makeup, you’d laid out his outfit for the night on the bed.

There was a teacher’s appreciation night at U.A and you were going as his plus one. This had been your 5th time going together, and each year was more fancy than the last.

Shouta was crossing his arms over his chest, still not having said a word.

“Babe.” You said carefully as to not burst out into laughter. “ What happened to what I put on the bed?”

He uncrossed his arms and scratched the back of his head looking slightly uncomfortable. Now you were confused. He never had any issues before with what you’d picked out. In fact, if you had forgotten to pick an outfit he’d gently remind you. You thought back to what you’d put on the bed, a simple black suit was what you had gone with since you were wearing a black dress. There was no way he wouldn't have liked it.

“It’s…. Too small.” He said finally, embarrassment tinting his cheeks.

“To small?” You were confused. You’d bought it only 8 months ago. You did a quick glance over, he hadn’t put on any weight where you could see.

“In the arms.. And thighs.” He said, he looking like he wished he could sink into the floor.

“Oh.” You said blinking. “ OHH!” you said again louder when you finally understood. Honeslty you felt a little dumb. He’d gotten buffer. You could even see in what he was wearing now that the arms were a little too tight and you could almost see the outline of his muscles as if it was a fitted jacket.

This time you couldn’t help the laugh that came out, which only got louder as he gave you a glare.

“I-I’m sorry baby. I don't mean to laugh” You said in between laughs.

“Yeah you do.” He mused out but he didn't seem upset.

You came closer and squeezed on his upper arms, which barely had any room, left in them, and were so… solid.

You couldn't deny that he had gotten thicker over the year, you just hadn’t thought about it when you bought the suit.

“Hmm… Maybe I do.” You said cheekily smiling up at him. He gave you a small smile back in spite of himself.

“Okay.” You said stepping back a bit and looking him up and down. “ Take all of that off. I’m going to use my quirk.

At this he looked surprised, an eyebrow raised. “Are you sure? You always get a headache when you use it too much.”

You shook your head.” This won't be so bad. I already have an idea of what I’m going to make.”

He gave you another skeptical look before he unbuttoned the jacket to start taking it off.

You bit your lip a little as he focused on unbuttoning the dress shirt and sliding it off his frame.

He’d definitely gotten bigger, you weren't sure if it was deliberate, but you did not mind in the least. His hair fell over his face as he bent over to pull his pants off and move the pile of clothes out of the way.

You paused for a minute to take in your husband and all his glory as he stood in only his boxers and socks.

“Do you not like it?” He said quietly, shattering your ungodly thoughts.

You blinked. “ Huh?” You asked looking up at his unreadable face.

“That I’m bigger. Do you not like it?” He asked again.

You felt like someone had smacked you. Your husband, THE Aizawa Shouta was feeling a little insecure. Because he kept his cards so close to the chest, it hadn't even crossed your mind that he would ever experience that feeling. And the fact that he was being vulnerable, right now in front of you made your love for him multiply.

You opened your mouth before you could even think to maybe censor yourself.

“Honestly Shouta, you look so fucking hot, I’m actually debating about skipping the event and jumping your bones.”

You covered your mouth a bit in shock, that you’d actually said that. There was a moment of silence where you were now the one wishing to sink into the floor. Then he came forward till he was almost pressed against you, a smirk on his face. Any trace of unreadable insecurity gone. You were glad, although a little embarrassed.

He moved your hand from your face and tucked a finger underneath your chin tilting your head up. You didn't get a chance to think as he pressed his soft lips against yours in a slow intoxicating kiss that left you fiending for more. Almost as if he sensed your sudden want he pulled away smiling down at you.

“Maybe we should go to the event first. Then we can talk about what happens when we get back home.”

You pouted. “ Fine. But you’re such a tease.”

He chuckled at this and took a step back expectantly. You took a deep breath and put your hands around his lower neck focusing on activating your quirk.

You had the quirk of Matter ideation. When you focused hard enough, you could make your ideas into reality by manipulating the matter that you touch with your hands. You could even make living things if you concentrate hard enough. But the bigger or more complicated a thing was the more energy it took from you and you were often left with a piercing headache that functioned like a hangover that usually kicked in an hour or two after you created something.

You breathed out, moving your hands down his bare and exposed chest. Your eyes were closed as you imagined the final product moving your hands down from his neck all the way down to his toes.

You could feel the matter pushing and blending together and taking on different shapes and colors, and molding around his skin.

When you were finished you opened your eyes and your mouth fell open. It looked better than you expected.

It was a deep and dark green suit that you had created that fit him, wonderfully, perfectly even. You turned to reach into the bathroom cabinet pulling out a hair tie.

Standing on your tiptoes, your faces once again close, you pulled his soft and freshly washed hair back and pinned it up into a half bun. You could feel his eyes on you as you did this meeting his for a moment and smiling.

“There.” You said after a moment, taking a step back to look at him. You put your hand to your chin as if you were thinking and nodded.

“Yeah that's hot.”

Shouta ignored you, turning to face the mirror, but you could see the slight tint of pink on his cheeks.

You watched him look at himself in the large mirror and eyebrow raised.

“What do you think?”

“I like the color.” He said in the most monotone voice possible but you just about rocketed off into space. You leaned up on his shoulder and kissed his cheek before turning back to your makeup mess, trying to locate your eyeliner.

“We have like half an hour left to get ready, so I have to finish doing my makeup. It's a disaster right now.”

-----

Half an hour later, Shouta was sitting in the dining room, looking over student essays when he heard the bathroom door opening upstairs. He keeps grading until he hears the clack of your heels coming down the stairs. Dropping his pencil and standing up he makes his way into the living room where he is stopped in his tracks.

You were coming down the stairs holding the rail with one hand concentrating on walking with your high heel.

Feeling a bit uneasy, he moved close to the stairs and just as he predicted your right foot slipped sending you flying forward. With one easy movement he caught you in his arms, a smile gracing his face when you looked up at him appreciatively.

“You look beautiful.” He said setting you straight and tucking your hair behind your ear.

To make sure you matched, you created yourself a green dress that complimented his suit.

“Thank you.” You said smiling. You were buzzing and ready to go.

“Ready?” He asked taking a deep breath as if he was steeling himself. Social events were never his thing but he went cause he knew you enjoyed them, and to appease his various co-workers.

“Yep” You slid your hand in his and headed towards the door.

------------------ PART TWO ------------------

It was two hours into the party and suddenly you were wishing you had headed your husbands warning. You were at U.A with Aizawa for a teacher’s appreciation event, and after having used your quirk to make you and your husband clothes, you were experiencing the side effects of your quirk.

You gripped the stem of your wine glass a little harder as your head started to throb. You felt like your brain was going to split into two at any second. Your quirk was like a muscle, if you didnt use it for a while, you had to build it back up again. You couldn't remember the last time you’d used your quirk, so making your dress and your husband’s suit was too much for your body at the moment.

The music inside the school gym was blasting and everyone was huddled around talking loud to hear each other. Shouta had gotten pulled away to take teacher photos in the corner of the gym. You could see him now, deadpanning into the camera. It would have brought a smile to your face if you didn't feel like you were about to puke from the pain.

Without taking a glance around you took a large gulp of your wine, finishing it off in a not so classy way. You knew you would pay with another hangover later, but maybe the alcohol would temporarily help you out.

Ten minutes later, and quite a few drinks later, you were sitting with your head down on top of a table, wishing that you could turn back time and stop yourself from making the dress. You still would have looked nice in the dress you had already picked out.

You wanted to go find some of the teachers and chat and have a good time, but you felt like if you opened your mouth, it would be a cry. You weren't sure how long you had been sitting alone, when a hand was placed on your back. You jumped up, feeling your head sloshing a bit as the alcohol you’d ingested started to catch up with you.

It was Shouta, looking down at you concern over his face. He crouched down close to you so that he didn't have to shout so loud.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. You looked at him and realized he still had on fake prop glasses that someone had probably put on him. You smiled and pulled them off his face to plalce them on the table.

“You were right.” You pouted. “ My head is about to split open.” You said. Understanding hit his face, but he made no move to shame you, the concern still there. Damn you loved this man.

“But never fear!” You said and he raised an eyebrow.

“ I downed many a cup of alcohol. And I am already feeling better.” You said grabbing his face and laughing. Maybe you were already a little tipsy. You tended to get giggly when you drink.

He grabbed your hands and brought them back to your lap amused. “ Your headache is just going to be worse later.”

You leaned forward more, a mischievous look clear as day on your face. “ Exactly, later.”

Before he could say anything else you connected your lips, returning the soft but intoxicating kiss he’d given you earlier. You considered it payback. When he pressed back to take over the kiss you pulled away a smirl playing on your lips.

“After the party… remember?” You said.

He cleared his throat returning back to normal public Aizawa within a moment.

“Right.”

You smiled wickedly.

“Right.” You said back. You stood up. “ Let’s go bug Toshi!!” You said in a sing song voice.

---

Aizawa was vaguely aware of the conversation that was happening around him. But his eyes were focused past the the group of teachers he was standing around and onto you. You were dancing with Toshinori chatting away happily. He knew you had a soft spot for the old man and you had rescued him from an awkward conversation asking Toshinonri to dance, leaving Aizawa open to being brought into various conversations that he did not care about.

You looked cute as you chatted with All Might, spinning under his arm as the music changed. His mind wandered onto the kiss you had given him shortly before. He knew you were definitely a little drunk, as you typically did not engage in PDA for his sake. It had caught him off guard, in only the way you could. You smelled heavenly and looked so beautiful with your hair pinned up and your dress.

He couldn't think of anything he’d like more at that moment than seeing your hair wild over the pillows, screaming out his name. It was like he could feel your hands ghosting up chest and digging into his back.

Snapping back into reality, he didn't have to look down to feel how tight his pants had become.

Shit.

“Excuse me.” He said in the middle of someone talking before dipping out of the conversation and cutting across the gym to the dance floor.

Toshinori saw you first, giving him a bright smile as he stopped dancing with you.

---

You looked up at Toshi pouting trying to figure out why you’d stopped . You were having a great time dancing with him. He was surprisingly good at leading, and he was telling you about his golden day stories.

You noticed he was looking at someone behind you so you turned, to see your husband standing there a strange look on his face. Your eyes traveled down and a smirk graced your face.

“Can I cut in?” He asked Toshi who nodded and let go of your hands at once.

“Of course.” he said, either not seeing his coworkers hard-on or doing a great job of pretending not to. “ I think i’m going to help myself to some more juice.” Leaning down he kissed you on the forehead quickly before heading away.

No sooner was Shouta grabbing your hand and almost dragging you in the directions of the parking lot. You felt a wave of wanton lust flow over you as you reached the car.

You slipped into the car barely waiting until the door was closed before you climbed over the passenger seat and into Shouta’s lap.

He gave a surprised grunt as you kissed him deep, your tounges swirling together. You were fumbling with his belt when he grabbed your hands.

“Were in the parking lot Y/N” He said a bit breathily.

You tapped the dark window next to you. “They’re tinted, remember?”

You leaned forward your face and chest leaning over him close. “ You wanna wait?” You asked placing a hand over his clothed cock, gripping it softly.

When he didn’t answer you began to stroke it excruciatingly slow. “ Hm?”

You leaned over and left searing butterfly kisses up his neck, until you reached his ear where you said softly. “ Don’t you wanna fuck me Shouta?”

You were being a big brat. But you didn’t care your brain was clouded in want.

“Fuck Y/N.” He almost growled out gripping your face with both of his hand and bringing you in for another head swirling kiss. You felt his hands skirting up your dress till they found your lacy underwear.

You heard the tear of fabric before you even felt him ripping your underwear, and tossing them into the backseat. With your free hand you pulled his hard cock out of his pants. His hands moved to your waist with a vice like grip lining you up perfectly with him.

You broke your kiss to moan as he finally filled you up with one hard push.

Aizawa head was swirling with thoughts of you. If anything you looked more beautiful on top of him. Your carefully placed hair pins had slipped and your wild curly hair was falling past your shoulders. You were the only person in the world he’d be vulnerable with the only person he’d let touch him. And you felt so good, too good.

He didn't waste any time lifting you up again, chasing that feeling of being completely connected to you.

The way your face shifted into pleasure as he stroked again into you, made him want to cum in your right then in there, but he would pace himself.

After letting you get adjusted the pace he sent was relentless. His thick cock was pounding up into you and you couldn't even think for how good it felt. Neither of you were going to last long like this.

“Oh baby.” You cried out your hands flat on his chest and curling into fist pulling at his clothing. “ Oh baby don’t stop.”

You were on fire in pleasure, the sound of your moans and wetness slamming together filling the car. You head flew back, mouth agape as you began to cum around his throbbing manhood.

“Shouta!” You cried out tightening around him sending him over the edge and gushing into you.

You brought your head down to kiss him again as you both rode out your orgasim. Your thigh spasming softly under his touch.

“Mmm. I love you.” he said between kisses. And you smiled against his lips.

“I love you too Shouta.” You said.

#aizawa shouta #aizawa imagine #aizawa #aizawa x reader #aizawa x reader smut #mha #mha fanfiction #bhna #mha smut #bnha smut

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theleftovertaco · 4 years ago

Text

April Fools

I’ve always wondered if April Fools existed in the wizarding world. I’ve come to the conclusion for this fic that it doesnt so the reader can introduce the Weasley twins to it. Chaos ensues. This takes place in harrys 3rd year and the twins 5th year. Technically you would be in 5th year as well, but your gender nor house are specified.

-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

You were writing your potions essay in the quidditch stands when an identical set of loud voices brought you out of your trance.

“Hey, short stack.” Fred and George flew up to your section.

“Oh look, it’s the demonic duo.”

George smirked, “Because we’re so devilishly handsome?”

“No, because your both so ugly that even Jesus couldnt save your face so satan had to take you.” You heard two squawks of indignation but continued on.

“Also, I’m not that short. Y/H is average.”

“Ah,” Fred sat down to your right, “but your shorter than us, so your short.”

“Everyone’s shorter than you two beanstalks.”

“You’re still short.” You stuck your tongue out at George and he mirrored you.

“What do you two want?”

“I’m hurt... always assuming we want something..” Fred trailed off.

“Yeah, we can’t have a conversation with our best friend?”

“I feel betrayed.”

“Depressed.”

“Cheated!”

“Is our friendship a lie?”

“Enough!” You giggled out.

“You don’t have to need something, but you stopped in the middle of practice for a reason.”

“Well... Gryffindor team likes to listen to music when we practice right?” Fred leaned in and put his chin on your shoulder.

“Ok and?”

“Well, all we have is Celestina Warbeck music and your muggle music just is much better than ‘a cauldron full of strong, hot love’”, George sung that last bit.

“So we wanna know if we can borrow your CDs and player?”

“Flawless impression. Yes you can use them, I’ll bring them out next practice. Though honestly, I really ought to get you one of your own so you don’t have to keep asking every time u want to listen to music.”

George hummed in agreement next to you.

“Maybe that’ll be your birthday gift. When is it anyways... I’ve known you two for almost a year and you never told me.”

“It’s in about a month. April 1st.” George confirmed.

You let out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, that checks out.”

You got a rare pause of silence.

“What do you mean ‘that checks out’?” Fred looked honestly confused, and so did George.

“Are you both messing with me? You have to know what holiday is on April 1st right?” They shook their heads no.

“Really? Hold on a second let me ask Hermione if she knows anything. ‘Mione!” You got her attention from a few stands over and she jogged over to the three of you.

“Yeah, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, can you answer a question?” She nodded and you continued, “ without saying it out loud, you know what holiday is on April 1st, right?” She nodded again.

“Yea, why is that relevant?”

“Because they don’t!” You motioned frantically to the twins behind you and Hermione shook her head.

“Do not tell them they don’t need another reason to go around causing more chaos.”

“Oooh,” Fred lifted up his head in interest, “this sounds interesting. What holiday is on April 1st that we don’t know about?”

Hermione shook her head as Harry flew over and dismounted. “What’s going on, practice is over, why aren’t you lot leaving?”

You turned to him quickly, “Harry, without saying it, you know what holiday is on, April 1st, right?” He nodded before realizing what was going on and started laughing.

“Don’t encourage them Harry!” Hermione pushed him slightly.

“Why not? It would be funny to see what they do with that.”

Fred and George were getting frustrated, “With what?”

“Don’t tell them, Y/N!”

“Tell them, Y/N!” “Tell us, Y/N!”

“Ok ok I’ll tell you!” You conceded and Hermione threw her hands up in exasperation and left to collect her bag.

“On two conditions!”

Fred and George whispered to each other for a second before turnin to you and nodding.

“Of course.” Said George with a sly grin.

“What are these conditions?” Fred finished for him.

“Number 1. When I tell you the holiday, I get full immunity from the days effects.”

“But of course.” They spoke in unison

“Number 2. Anyone asks, I had nothing to do with this.”

Fred shrugged, “That’s fair. So, what holiday is on April 1st?”

You grinned before replying, “April Fool’s!”

“What is April Fool’s?” George’s eyes went wide.

“A holiday dedicated to playing pranks on people. Muggles prank their friends, family, teachers, principal. In my primary school one of my friends put a bunch of live chickens in a teachers car.”

They looked at you with pure glee.

“Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!” Fred and George each planted a kiss on you cheek and ran off.

-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

Fred and George dropped into the library chairs in front of you two weeks later.

“So we were thinking.” Fred grinned from the chair closest to you.

“And since you were the one to tell us about this glorious holiday, you should be part of the celebration.”

“No.”

“Why nooooot?” George whined, setting his chin on the table and looking at you with his best puppy eyes.

“I’m not going to get in trouble for a holiday and besides, its your holiday. You don’t need me interfering.”

“But we want you there so you should do it, right? And you wouldn’t be interfering. Please?” Fred joined his brother in puppy eyeing you.

You sighed and nodded in agreement.

“Yay! So we were thinking that maybe we could pull something minor on each of the teachers and then something major on the whole school. What do you think?”

“It could work, but you would have to tailor it to each teacher. Snape can’t stand background noise and high pitches, McGonagall hates being even remotely interrupted, Flitwick can’t stand his bookstack being messed with, and Lupin, for whatever reason, doesn’t like fish.”

“Fish?” George tilted his head like a confused puppy.

“Yeah, he thinks they’re gross or something.”

They both nodded before Fred spoke up, “Ok, so what are you suggesting?”

You thought for a moment before responding, “For snape, I have this little old transportable music player. We could charm it to follow him around and play a bunch of kazoo noises in the background. The more he tries to get rid of it the higher pitch and louder it gets.”

“Ooh, I like that. What else?” George nodded for you to continue.

“We could find a spell where every time McGonagall tries to speak, she gets interrupted by, I don’t know, a horn or something? Flitwick I don’t really have anything.”

“I like the way you think.” Fred grinned and added in, “ . We could turn Lupin’s class into a tiny lake and fill it with fish while he’s up in his office?”

George nodded, “And we could make Flitwick's stack fly around the room while he’s on it?”

“You’re both evil. It’s fantastic.” You high fived them and the three of you left to enact your plans.

-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

The next two weeks were a never-ending whirlwind of prank planning and late night kitchen runs, but finally the three of you were done. The plans were set up and now all there was to do was wait.

First class of the day was McGonagall’s and the three of you walked in trying to wipe the grins off your face.

“Good morning class, please turn to-” *HONK* Your professor whipped her head around to see where the sound was coming from to no avail. She shook her head and continued on.

“As I was-” *HONK HONK* “Where is that noise coming from?”

The class stifled laughter as she ran around looking for the origin of the honking.

For twenty minutes.

“I swear to” *HONK*

“Oh for the love of” *HOOOOONK*

Eventually McGonagall grew tired and dismissed the class half an hour early.

Snape was next on the hit list.

Your professor strode into the classroom, looking obviously annoyed. A tiny radio followed after him playing a nonsense tune with kazoos. The class burst into laughter but was promptly shut up by a particularly harsh glare.

The next hour was trademarked by Snape repeatedly trying to destroy the radio physically or through magic while he had the class make a healing potion. The noise just got louder and louder and when the bell rang for the last class before lunch Snape barked at everyone to “GET OUT NOW”.

At lunch, you, Fred, and George each grabbed a sandwich and an apple and were about to rush out to have time to set up Lupin’s prank when Harry, Ron, and Hermione stopped you.

“The radio in Snape’s class, who’s bloody idea was that?” Fred and George pointed to you and Ron responded with a high five.

As you three left you could hear Hermione reprimanding Ron for encouraging you.

Lupin’s class took time to set up, but he always took lunch in his office and rarely opened the door.

The three of you placed a tiny device in the center of the floor, rushed out of the classroom, and waited.

You heard a loud BANG and then a stream of curses before running off to hide.

By the time you three returned for class, a student had opened the door to find Lupin taking refuge at the staircase and yelling that class was cancelled for the day and to read Chapter 17!

This brings us to Flitwick’s class.

The plan for his had already been enacted. Since when the three of you stepped into his class, he was clutching onto Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 and yelling out instructions while also asking that someone help him down.

You three took pity halfway through class and found a ladder for him to use.

The four pranks had gone off without a hitch, now you just needed to pull of dinner and everything would be perfect.

Fred and George snuck into the kitchens and as food was being prepared to go out, they placed a few drops of a specialized potion on about half of the platters.

So they reconvened with you at dinner.

You each sat there, and then you waited as people dug into their food.

After about thirty seconds the chaos you had been waiting for occurred. Half the Great Hall turned into various zoo creatures, all frantically running around the tables and crashing into people. The human half of the hall was torn between laughing and running.

They ultimately settled on running.

As everyone cleared out of the hall, the students were ushered back to their respective dorms, and the three of you escaped to the kitchens.

As soon as the portrait entrance was closed, the three of you looked at each other before bursting into laughter.

“AHAHAHAHA- OH that was BRILLIANT!” You half screamed.

“Did you see the look on Sprouts face when Snape turned into a peacock? A PEACOCK!” Fred screeched, nearly on the floor.

“I don’t know if we could ever outdo that!” George replied, who was on the floor.

Eventually the three of you calmed down and you caught your breath to reply.

“Knowing you two, you could. Before we leave, come on. I got you something.”

You brought them over to a table in the middle of the kitchens where two cupcakes and a CD player was set up, along with around 10 CDs next to it.

“I completely forgot about that!” Fred exclaimed.

“Thank you so much!” George and Fred leaned down a little to hug you at the same time.

“Uh, guys, getting a little crushed here.”

“Right, sorry.” George detangled himself from the hug.

“I’m not, gonna keep crushing you.” Fred squeezed tighter.

You laughed and hugged him back.

“Happy Birthday.”

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley headcanons #fred weasley imagine #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley headcanon #george weasley imagine #harry potter #hermione granger #ron weasley

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nctsjiho · 4 years ago

Text

Jam Session

warnings: none

era: Summer of 2020

❀ Mark and JiHo have a little jam session in her room

A soft knock sounded at the door of JiHo’s room. She hummed loud enough for the person behind the door to hear and soon after the door opened. JiHo looked up from her position on her bed, where she had made herself comfortable with her phone in her hand. In the doorway stood a sheepish looking boy with wide innocent eyes. A chuckle pushed past JiHo’s lips as she eyed Mark’s timid figure. “What’s up?”

Mark took a step into the room and held up his guitar that he had brought down from his dorm, five floors up. With a confused look JiHo spoke, “You know Haechan’s room is on the other side of the hallway right?” The boy just ignored her and settled down in front of her on her bed.

“I’m not here for Haechan.” This confused JiHo more. It wasn’t unusual for Mark to come down here with his guitar. The members would sometimes have evening jam sessions - though usually they would be held on the 10th floor since the 5th floor had some uptight neighbours. When it was just Mark and his guitar coming over, it was either because him and Haechan wanted to practise some covers and play around a bit, or him and Taeyong were planning out some potential NCT or SuperM songs. So it came as a bit of a shock to hear that Mark wasn’t planning on doing either of those things.

“What brings you here then?” The girl squints, curious about why he had come down all this way. “It’s just been a while since we’ve sang together. So I thought-” “Oh no, dude I’m not singing.” JiHo interjected. The boy sighed and threw his head back a little. “Dude, I haven’t heard you sing like this in such a long time!” Mark whined causing JiHo to start feeling bad. “You know I don’t really sing. And definitely not like this.” She motioned to the guitar.

Mark knew that JiHo was insecure about her voice, something that no one understood because she could’ve easily been a main vocalist if she had the confidence for it.

“JiHo listen, I don’t care if you suck or if you sound like an angel. There’s no pressure, no one is watching. It’s literally just us, jamming for fun. I can even bet you that my voice will crack at least once if we sing together.” He explained trying to ease the tension. JiHo smiled a little at his last statement. “Well, your voice cracking, that’s just a given.” She commented with a mischievous grin which had Mark groaning. “Okay fine, but please. Just this one time.” His fingers fidgeted around the strings, like they were waiting for JiHo’s signal to start strumming a song.

A few seconds pass in silence before JiHo exhaled loudly. “Okay! Only this one time. And afterwards don’t you dare bring your guitar anywhere near my room.” Mark nodded excitedly. “I’ll use that guitar right there then.” He joked, pointing towards the guitar sitting in the corner of the room. JiHo rolled her eyes but didn’t comment on it further and Mark began strumming a familiar tune on the instrument in his hands.

Back in 2019 JiHo had once told Mark that ‘Superhuman’ was probably one of, if not her favourite song of theirs. She loved performing that song so much and was sad when the their promotions and the tour ended. She also shared about how singing it together that one night in the air bnb in Brooklyn was one of her favourite memories. Some of the boys were either drunk or extremely sleepy, but they all sang it together and it became such a fond memory.

That’s why Mark had figured out the cords and a good arrangement to play it on the guitar. An acoustic version specially made for JiHo. The girl’s eyes were looking down to her lap where her hands tapped along to the rhythm of the song and they began to sing. They kind of figured out who was singing what part at what times, with JiHo mostly singing the main vocal line with Mark harmonizing and him taking his own rap parts when JiHo stopped for him to sing.

“If you wanna feel it say yeah~” “Yeah~” Mark added and he let the last note of the guitar ring through the room. The two basked in the lingering mood of the song before Mark spoke up. “You’re such a good singer, you know that right?” JiHo just dismissed the compliment with a wave of her hand and Mark decided to just move on to the next song.

They sang a plethora of different songs. Some being their own, some being mainly rap songs, but most were some Mark thought would really fit JiHo’s voice.

“Once you gain a bit more confidence I swear you can just take Doyoung hyung or Taeil hyung’s parts.” Mark laughed, but he was being somewhat serious. He really believed that JiHo had a great voice and there wouldn’t be a reason for her not to get more vocal lines and high notes in their songs. Not that he didn’t think she wasn’t doing a good job as a rapper. On the contrary, she was doing too good of a job to only get the small amount of lines she does get, but that was just one of the down side of having so many members in a group. There were so many members who didn’t get that many lines, luckily they would get more on side tracks in the album or they would have more parts in a next comeback.

JiHo had only given the boy a sad smile, fully aware that her confidence was the main culprit in her career and her live in general. She wouldn’t like to admit that her confidence - or well, her lack thereof - had gotten in the way of opportunities because she had been quick to turn them down at the thought of stepping out of her comfort zone. The boys knew about this to a certain extent, but if only they knew what kind of jobs and opportunities she had turned down, she would most likely have all of the boys nagging at her.

She was so good at faking her confidence on stage, but when it came to certain things, her confidence tanked completely and she’d rather turn away one of the best things that could ever happen to her, than to confront it and possibly get engulfed by anxiety. Luckily she didn’t always have to fake confidence, she was pretty happy with her dance and rap skills and she didn’t care too much about looks as she kept her body healthy and in good shape almost all of the time. It was mostly the singing that made her anxious so she was happy for the amazing vocalists in her group being in charge of all that responsibility.

Mark had stood up and sent the girl a thumbs up. “Cheer up, dude. You did really great and I had a lot of fun.” “Yeah, I actually had a lot of fun as well.” A playful smile formed on the boy’s lips. “So tomorrow again?” Before JiHo could protest Mark walked out the room. “See you tomorrow!” JiHo rolled her eyes at Mark’s antics, but smiled when he heard Haechan stop him in the room and yell at him for betraying him and not coming to sing with him instead.

She actually hadn’t mind singing with Mark. Initially she was a bit nervous, but then again it was only him and her and if anyone else were to hear her it was only going to be her roommates who’ve already heard her sing enough times before. Not quite sure if Mark was actually going to stop by the next day to sing together again, JiHo got herself ready to go and sleep. This time she didn’t dread the thought of singing and for once was kind of excited to sing.

---

Side note: This wasn’t really Mark focused ig (?? idk), so I’m gonna try to do another Mark post soon-ish (don’t count on it). This idea just came to me an hour ago and I only have a few hours left before I post this, so I wrote it pretty quickly. It’s not really that good of a post so I’m sorry for that. (if you haven’t, my previous post ‘Still My Favourite’ with Jeno was pretty cute so you could read that one, I posted it yesterday ^^ shameless self promo on my own blog wow-)

#jiho.writings #nct 24th member #nct addition #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct mark imagines #nct mark scenarios #nct fluff #nct mark fluff #nct female member #nct extra member #nct additional member #kpop!addition #kpop!oc

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what-the-witch-stuff · 4 years ago

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Allright. Elliott thread that nobody asked for. Part 3

You wonder what’s going on?: Part 1 | Part 2

Where was I....

.....Ah yes: But how else would you know? Because you need to know. Everyone needs to know that he is a real author (and a gentleman of course). You need to know that he has the skill, the education and the dedication to the craft. He is not just anybody, like some fraud who has nothing to show for himself. Oh, The horrors of anybody doubting him! ...oh~ wait a second, that is exactly what this is about, isn’t it? When you first meet him: He has nothing to show for himself.

If I would write angsty insecurity-issues stuff, this is where I would lay the foundation. I am still a tad bit indecisive about how fragile his ego actually is. Like, beneath the facade: How much would Elliott link his level of success to his sense of self worth? How much is his self-expression a form of compensation? Let the fanfics decide! Nevertheless, there is some evidence for Elliott having a real issue when his insinuation clashes with reality, I think. He complaints to the player that back home people doubted him and told him he would never make it as an author. In the end, he does successfully publish a book! His success is, after all, part of the friendship/dating arc. He apparently even goes on a book tour if you marry him (?).

I am at the end of year 1, first time playing this game. I just saw Elliott and things progressed downhill from there. I don't know shit, but how to read more into fictional ppl than what is actually there. So I don't know.

But I guess that, until Elliott is indeed successful in the game, the possibility of his failure is very much apparent to him. He never says so canonically (except when he talks about his money running out). This might be very much just a subconscious thing, though. He, funnily enough, does complain a whole lot, about his living conditions and all annoyances that come with it. Which.(~may I remind you~) He. Deliberately. Chose. For. Himself. BECAUSE ~ladies and gets~ HE IS AN IDIOT. Because Elliott, as much as he wants to pretend otherwise is in actuality a stranger to impulse control. He reflects on his decisions even less, that anyone is giving him credit for.

„Oh, wow, I get criticised? People are doubting me for valid some obscure reasons? My success is not guaranteed and anybody pointing that out triggers that sweet existential dread inside me? Better move the fuck away to someplace where nobody knows me or cares!“ Even better: „Oh, see that little shack at the beach, that does not look like it will give any decent shelter during any other seasons but summer? And that might get flooded or could get damaged during storms? Let's not even think about winter, haha. That little shack where, it is dark, cold and damp inside and sometimes algae grow on the floor? Perfect! Let's move there! You know what: Let's bring the piano too!!!!“

- Author's note - Because we all know that pianos love nothing more than constantly changing temperatures and moisture and shit. The 5th heart event is either fake or a fever dream because that thing would be horribly out of tune by the time Elliot plays his little song. And I highly doubt, that Elliott learned how to tune a piano himself. You really need to know, what you are doing and you need the tools! Not to mention that getting a piano professionally tuned costs. a lot. (Yeah, my piano sounds like shit. Thanks for asking) - Author's note end -

Another thought connected to the piano: When you already have limited savings, what better way to spend them, than on some moving company to transport your piano to some remote village and into a shitty little shack by the beach? Even if he bought the piano afterwards, that would still be one rather bad decision money wise. Hey, little group survey: What are your headcanons, on how Elliot deals with money? Because the longer I think about it, my answer would be: Not great!

No, but really, how much does that man hate himself??? Some of you might have wondered, why the same eerie wind chime music from the community centre, also plays inside the beach hut. And I always thought this might be an indicator for how uncomfortable the hut is. I mean, there is only so much that you can convey through imagery. In itself, you might not immediately think that Elliott's living conditions are too bad. However, I don't think that Elliot is connected to the Junimos in any way, storywise. Even thematically, I do not see a connection, because the hut is not "imbedded into nature" or anything. Therefore, if the wind chimes are not the musical theme of the Junimos themselves, then it could be an ambience track to underline the desolate state of the community building. And this is the same ambience we are confronted with in Elliott's hut. It might be just that bad.

... ...

or ConcernedApe ran out of original tracks...... But where's the fun in that?

__________________________________________

And that’s it for today’s post. For coherency I am going to end it here. Next part, as always, will be linked in an edit, so stay tuned. ________________________________________________ Edit: you waited long enough. And I am here to deliver

Part 4

#stardew valley #stardew valley elliott #sdv elliott #stardew elliott #elliott stardew valley #elliott stardew #elliott sdv #stardew valley headcanons #sdv headcanons #sdv #sdv fanfic

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footballerindreams · 4 years ago

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How I Met Your Mother - Park Jihoon (one shot)

---

Jihoon had been a successful MC for not only with Inkigayo, but also with some other shows. Heck he even had a chance to host the likes of MAMA and SMA, a feat that rarely happens.

And well, through hosting he was able to meet the future other half of his life.

He met Y/N when Jihoon was nominated for as best host of the year and Y/N was invited on the yearly event with her team of newscasters because one of her colleagues was nominated for Best Documentary. And fate let them sit at the same table…and beside each other.

Jihoon being an extrovert and a social butterfly that he is, he became immediately professionally close to her and to the team, sharing stories and jokes while the award show is going on.

Jihoon may not been able to win the award, but he was able to win the hearts of those people around him…especially Y/N.

The next day he and his fellow Treasure members were enjoying their day off and had a chance to watch the review of the award show that last night.

“Hyung! Look at this!” Doyoung shouted and Jihoon, Jeongwoo and Mashiho gathered in their living room and watch the show.

“Showbiz bits! Treasure member and last night’s nominee for best host Park Jihoon, is seen getting close with newscaster YFam/N Y/N. Last night’s award show has been memorable and most especially for the fans that were watching it. The number of times Mr. Park has been caught by the camera getting close with Ms. YFam/N, talking about something made a ruckus on the internet. Tweets over the two to be a potential couple has been massive and so far, the fans expect something more. Well, we’ll see about it.”

Mashiho, Doyoung and Jeongwoo looked back at their hyung and Jihoon is nervous.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Jihoon backed out a bit.

The three suddenly smiled at him in an eerie way.

“You’re interested in her.” Mashiho started.

“What the hell are you talking about, I was actually talking to the rest of the people there. Not only to her?” Jihoon defended.

“Well, if you say that, and the way she looks at you, I think she likes you, hyung.” Doyoung said.

“Stop with the nonsense Doyoungie. Why would she like me? I’m just an idol.”

“Who would not like you, hyung? Girls are falling for you. Your smile, your wits. Not to mention that great body of yours. Oh, how I wish I have that too.” Jeongwoo said.

“Shut up Jeongwoo. There you go again with your low self-esteem.”

“Why don’t you give her a chance, hyung? Even probably as friends?” Mashiho suggested.

“I’m too busy right now to give attention to women. And so are you, you and you.” Jihoon said pointing his fingers one by one to his dongsaengs.

---

The next time Jihoon and Y/N saw each other was in the building of YG itself.

“Hi Park Jihoon-ssi.” Y/N waved and greeted.

Jihoon just got out of the cafeteria together with Hyunsuk and Junghwan, finished their breaktime by eating and chatting.

“Hey! Y/N-ssi! What brings you here?” Jihoon replied.

“Well, me and my team had an interview assignment here. We are going to meet Bobby-ssi.” Y/N gladly replied.

“Oh! With Bobby-hyung…I mean Bobby-sunbaenim. I did not know you are doing a music segment. You are usually in charge of weather forecasts.” Jihoon said.

“Yeah. New assignment. My boss said that I could fit as well for the segment and decided to give it to me and give it a try. This is the first time so I don’t have an idea what shall I do.”

“I know you can do it. I believe you.” Jihoon assured.

“Thank you so much, Jihoon-ssi.”

Hyunsuk suddenly and politely interrupted, “Uhm. Are you looking for Bobby-hyung? He’s at the 5th floor right now. I had a chat with him today. He said he has an interview in a short while. I guess he means you.”

“Thank you so much Choi Hyunsuk-ssi.” Y/N was about to go when she suddenly turned back and when to Jihoon.

“If you don’t mind, can I get your number? I might need help again with something here in YG and I think you are close with the other artists here aside for your members.”

---

Jihoon was in his room looking at his phone. Displayed was Y/N’s name and number.

“Damn Jihoon! You’re so lucky!” Hyunsuk said. Slapping the other’s shoulder.

“Ouch! Why slap me like that?” Jihoon rebutted and lock at his phone (for “protection”).

“What are you doing?! The girl is into you!” The older leader reprimanded.

“What’s the big fuss? She just asked my number for important reasons and she gave hers. That’s it.” The younger replied.

“You don’t have any idea, do you.” Hyunsuk is starting to get amused, frustrated, and mad at the same time.

Now Jihoon is nervous and curious. “What?”

“Y/N is one of the beauties of newscasting. Many, as in many guys want to date her. I heard that she got a lot of date offers from a lot of guys, especially in the music industry but it seems she rejected all of those.”

“And what’s your point?” Jihoon was now skeptical.

And Hyunsuk can’t take it, he gripped his hair hard. “Don’t you see it?! She talks to you! Twice already! Not to mention she asked your number, and she gave hers. Are you dumb or dumber?”

“Hyung, out of all the members here I was expecting you to be levelheaded. You sound like Jeongwoo and Doyoung.”

And Hyunsuk had enough. “ugh! Gosh. I’m outta here. My future wife called. She said Seung and Yong are looking for me.”

---

Y/LN Y/N calling…

“Hello?” Jihoon answered the phone.

“Hi Jihoon-ssi. I hope I’m not bothering you.” Y/N spoke.

“No. Not at all.”

“Oh. Thank heavens. Uhm, I had a favor to ask.”

“What is it?”

“Can we meet somewhere. I need to talk to you about certain things.”

“What kind of “certain things”?

“Treasure-related.”

“Ok? Where then?”

And the two met at a secluded but fine coffee shop in Bukchon.

“Nice to see you again, Y/LN-ssi.” Jihoon greeted as he sits down in front of the news reporter.

“Oh please Jihoon-ssi. Just call me Y/N.”

“Ok. Then about Treasure. Why me? Hyunsuk-hyung knows the members better since he is the oldest.

“Well actually, my coworker had contacted him and he said that he cannot come because he has a schedule too and he recommended you to come.”

Jihoon is always intuitive. When Y/N said that he knows that Hyunsuk planned it. He knows the other leader had no schedule for today.

“If he wasn’t my hyung, I already jiu-jitsued him.” He thought.

“Ok then. What do you want to know, Y/N.” Jihoon asked with a smile on his face.

Their conversation went on for hours. From Treasure, the members, their fun lives, and even their own personal lives. Jihoon was amazed to know about the girl in front of her. Coming from a middle class family, she challenged herself to become who she is today. He also knew that she is a big IKON fan and the only girl and youngest in the family.

Their secret coffee shop meeting became a regular one. In those meetings they became more closer and knew more about each other. Y/N realized that when Jihoon is excited, he automatically switches to his Busan dialect without him knowing and she finds it amusing.

But one day, everything was about to change.

“Jihoon-ah! Where are you?” Hyunsuk was in a panic looking for his dongsaeng in the dorm, barging in the door without even knocking. It was early in the morning.

Doyoung, being an early rise came out of his room. “What’s wrong hyung?”

“Where’s Jihoonie?”

“In his room, hyung. He’s probably still sleeping.”

Hyunsuk did not bother and went directly to Jihoon’s room and barged in, and waking up the boy in his bed.

“Jihoon, wake up.” Hyunsuk nudged him forcefully.

The Busan boy stirred and looked. “Wha-? Hyung? What’s wrong?”

And Hyunsuk shoved his phone in front of Jihoon’s face for him to read.

Park Jihoon and Y/LN Y/N dating?

Treasure member Park Jihoon was spotted with newscaster Y/LN Y/N in a coffee shop at Samchon-dong district. According to some witnesses within the area, they have seen the two regularly for the past few months spending time with each other, casually talking, drinking coffee, and eating desserts. Their meeting is estimated to be long as two hours and then they go out. Our correspondents in Dispatch tried to ask a statement from the coffee shop owner and management but they refused and opted not to speak saying the two are their regular customers and they do not intrude to any topics the two are talking about.

The two were started to be adored by the public after an award show being looking good together.

Now the question is, are they an item now? Or are they a thing? Our team will still get the statement of both YG Entertainment and Y/LN Y/LN’s broadcasting company over the matter. Stay tuned for more information.

“I know you will say you are just friends. But if it is something more or something questionable, please talk to each other about it. I care about you and her. Not just because I am one of the leaders of Treasure and I have to defend you and our reputation, which is really easy by the way, but because I don’t want you to regret and to be happy whatever relationship you have right now.” Hyunsuk asked.

Their conversation was interrupted by a call from Jihoon’s phone.

“Y/N” Jihoon answered.

“Can we- Can we meet and talk?” Y/N asked.

“Okay. Same place?”

“Yes.”

And they found each other again on the same coffee shop. But quieter than usual.

After a few minutes of silence and only the clinging of mugs can be heard, Y/N started to talk.

“Jihoon. It has been fun talking with you but I think this will be the last time.”

“What? Why?” Jihoon started to worry.

“I’m sure you’ve seen the tabloid. I don’t want to jeopardize your career-“

“You know well that I can stand up for whatever heck they throw at us-“

“And I don’t want to hope more that you will return my feelings for you. I’ve been liking you for some time, Jihoon. But it seems this is one-sided.” And Y/N started to stand up and get her bag. “Goodbye, Park Jihoon-ssi.”

And Jihoon sat there frozen, with his cup of coffee, and a slice of cake Y/N loves to eat.

---

Jihoon returns to their dorm that night.

“Hyung, do you want to eat, I cooked---, are you okay?” Mashiho asked.

Jihoon only gave a faint smile. “I’m okay Mashi. I’m just tired. I’ll go to sleep ahead.” And then he went off.

Mashiho only looked at him, knowing something happened.

---

Jihoon laid in his bed, sobbing. He does not understand why he is crying, but he feels the hurt that Y/N decided to stop their acquaintance. He already knew what he is to her and now he starts to ask questions; what is she to him? What are they? What do they have the whole time? These questions bombarded his head to sleep.

He woke up that morning surprised. Hyunsuk was beside his bed looking at him with concern.

“Hyung.” Jihoon said.

“Mashi called me last night. He said you came home with tears in your eyes. He was worried.” Hyunsuk said.

And Jihoon started crying again and hugged his hyung.

“I’m so stupid, hyung. I let her go. I don’t know if I was ignorant or am I just afraid of loving her and she ended everything because she thought we are going nowhere.”

“But do you love her?” Hyunsuk asked.

“This time, hyung…yes.” Jihoon was sure of his answer.

“Then it’s not yet too late.”

---

And Jihoon found himself in a bustling newsroom studio looking for Y/N. It took him some time to find her until he saw him in a green screen area of the room, looking beautiful as ever. He just stayed there on the side as the recording of that day’s news happen. As Y/N was saying her lines, she had a glimpse on the side and saw Jihoon. She continued like a professional she is, not being distracted by his presence.

After the recording, she stepped out of the newsroom and Jihoon started to follow her. She knows he came for her. So she walked faster trying to get away from him.

Jihoon noticed it and hurried up as well.

“Y/N, wait!”

HE catched up with her and held her hand to stop her.

“I know you don’t want to see me. But give me this only chance. I’m sorry. I was stupid. I was afraid. Not because of my career to be at stake, but because I did not realize I am in love with you and when I was, I felt that I will not be enough for you. That’s it. I said what I need to say. It’s up to you now. If you’re still going away, I will let you. I will accept my stupidity. I---”

And Jihoon was interrupted by a kiss on the lips. He was surprised at first but then he gave in. He never thought how soft Y/N’s lips were. He held her tight on the waist, not giving a damn of the people who are already surrounding them inside the newsroom.

---

Jihoon and Y/N confirmed their relationship two months after the newsroom incident. (The people there kept quiet about it until it was revealed.) And two years later they tied the knot. Their wedding was simple but so beautiful and classy. Some wedding planning critics dubbed it as the wedding of the decade. And a year later their daughter, Dahee, was born.

---

For @treasuredays

#park jihoon #treasure #park jihoon fanfiction #treasure fanfiction #kpop fanfiction

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ickle-ronniekins · 4 years ago

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duet | golden

DUET MASTERLIST

desc: fred loves to tease his twin. more importantly, he loves to tease his twin about you. so when the opportunity arrises to invite you for summer holiday and keep it from george, fred takes it. and george, stunned at your appearance in the entrance of his house, is flabbergasted and nervous. but maybe, just maybe, it’s the perfect time to tell you -- maybe it’s the perfect time to tell you just exactly how he’s been feeling.

a/n: hi! i don’t even know what number leeann and i are up too with these installments! leeann and i love these two little goofballs so much. i'm so grateful she approached me a few weeks ago asking to do this collab. also i knoooow the summer before the trio’s 5th year they’re supposed to be at headquarters but whatever just indulge me okay? also yes she’s in hufflepuff but let’s pretend the houses can pack together and hang together in their common rooms OKAY!

word count: 3.8k sorry

warnings: naaaah

“It’s going to be our final year! Aren’t you sad, Freddie?”

You were adding the last of your things to the top of your trunk -- your clean quills, your neatly folded socks, your straight, unwrinkled ribbons, and of course, the letters. The letters that kept coming. From your secret admirer.

“Not really,” Fred grinned brightly. He was sprawled out on the couch in the empty Gryffindor common room, his trunk on the floor next to him. The two of you were alone. Most everyone was now down in the Great Hall, getting ready to leave. How was it summer holiday already?

You noticed the ends of Fred’s shirts sticking out of the sides of his trunk and you rolled your eyes. Silly boy. You reckoned he needed a lesson in folding. Properly. Had he not learned a thing from his mother?

“Not really?” you barked, shooting him a very angry gaze. Blood was rushing to your face out of pure resentment. “Bloody hell, Fred, it’s our last year at school. You can’t tell me you don’t really care, do you?”

He closed his eyes and placed his hands behind his head, relaxing at the thought of almost being out of Hogwarts for good. “I dunno, Y/N, I’m rather excited about it, actually. What’s got your wand in a knot?”

You huffed dramatically. Why didn’t anyone understand you? You sat down on your closed trunk and grumpily began to tie your shoes. “Because! It’s almost over! And we’ve got to spend as much time together as we can, don’t we, Fred? George, too. So no running off all the time next school term, yeah? Not to mention we’ve got this summer holiday now -- can’t believe we won’t see one another until September...”

“Right,” Fred replied. His eyes opened with a jolt and he sat upright rather quickly and grabbed you by the shoulders, frightening you. You brought your hand to your chest in surprise.

“Merlin, Fred!”

“What would you say, Y/N,” he began, his face in a tight-lipped, cheeky grin, “if I say you should come to the Burrow this summer?”

Your eyes widened -- both in delight and in nerves. The Burrow? Their home? You’d heard such wonderful things -- the way George had talked about it had made it seem like the most wonderful, cozy place. He knew you loved cozy things. He knew how much you’d enjoy the idea of his mum sitting by the fire, knitting away, with a cup of tea on the table next to her. It’s what he imagined you’d do too, if you were there.

“R-really?” you asked Fred now, hoping that for this one moment, he’d place his teasing aside, because you could not afford to get your hopes up again. Not now. Not after the disaster that was the Yule Ball. The almost-kiss. The night that wasn’t.

“Yeah, really,” Fred made it absolute, taking your hands in his. “C’mon! Mum and Dad won’t mind -- pretty sure Harry and Hermione might be coming for a bit, as well. You’d love it, I know you would. Not to mention George will be there, obviously--”

You swatted him playfully with the end of your shirt sleeve, your face glowing the same shade of red as the common room carpet. You ignored that statement; it was rather rude of him, actually, especially when the ball, even though it was months ago, was still fresh in your mind. Ever-present. That silly cheek kiss. The twirling in your dress. The giggles that echoed in your ears. It was all still there, painfully and excitingly so.

But the prospect of hanging around the Burrow with your very best friends was inviting. How could you not, when the offer was right in front of you? How could you possibly decline? Hadn’t you just said you wanted to spend as much time together as you could? A small grin lifted your cheeks and your eyes brightened at the thought. “Okay then, Freddie. Count me in.”

He smiled and placed a hand to your knee. “Atta girl.”

“Ooh! I’ve got to go and tell George!”

Before you could grab your trunk and make your way through the portrait hole, Fred jumped to his feet and ran toward the exit. He placed his hand on his chest. “No, no -- let me, alright? Besides, miss,” he pointed to your spellbooks lying in a heap next to your feet, “you’ve still got packing to do.”

And before you could fight him on it, he winked at you and hopped into the corridor, vanishing before your eyes. You scoffed and looked down at your spellbooks and began placing them into your bag. What was that look in Fred’s eyes just before he’d left? Exuberance? Delight? ...mischief? Why couldn’t you shake the feeling that Fred Weasley was definitely up to something?

________________

The Burrow was glowing underneath the summer sunlight. George, Fred, Ron, Ginny, Harry, and Hermione were hovering in the sky on their broomsticks, playing a bit of Quidditch in the sweltering heat. George, annoyed that his twin had made him play Keeper, of all positions, wiped a bit of sweat from his forehead.

“You’re a right git, Fred!” George called as the elder twin threw the Quaffle right passed his head. George, in an attempt to block it, flipped completely upside down, nearly falling off of his broom. Ginny squealed with laughter alongside Ron. A natural Chaser, Fred was. He reckoned he’d play that position if he wasn’t such a bloody brilliant Beater. But George -- a Keeper? He wasn’t the greatest.

Molly was rummaging around the kitchen. Straightening up. You’d be arriving soon, wouldn’t you? She had a pot of tea on. All of the children flooded into the house. “Don’t make a mess!” Molly huffed, “I’ve just tidied up!”

“Mum, why on Earth have you got tea on? It’s bloody blazing outside!” George asked. He dipped his head under the sink and ran cold water over his head. Molly swatted him with her rag.

“Oh, George, get out from under there, won’t you? Straighten yourself up.” She pulled at his sweaty shirt, ran a hand through his very askew hair to try and straighten it, and wiped a bit of sweat from his face, just like she had when he was a little boy. Then she turned to Fred, Ron, and the others. “You lot, as well! She’ll be here soon!”

“Sorry,” George asked, noting the very bright grin spreading across Fred’s face. “But.. who will be here soon?”

There was a quiet knock at the door. Nervously, you stepped across the threshold -- a bag slung over your shoulder, your hair pulled into a neat side ponytail, a pale yellow tee shirt beneath your overalls. “Erm -- don’t mean to bother --”

“Oh!” Molly squealed. She immediately rushed toward the door and pulled you into an incredibly tight embrace. She smelled of rosemary and lavender. She cupped your face in her hands and peered down at you with the most warm and welcoming smile. “We’re so happy to have you, Y/N. Come! I’ve just set a pot of tea!”

You hadn’t even had time to thank Molly for letting you stay before Fred was tugging you into his arms. He was yucky -- all sweaty from being outside, but he didn’t let go. In fact, he just squeezed you harder, the sweat from his head dripping onto your clothes. Ick. “Bloody finally, was wondering when the hell you were going to show up,”

“Language, Frederick!” Molly barked.

You grinned excitedly at Fred and made your rounds. The Burrow was even more beautiful than you’d imagined, more beautiful than their stories. Several stories high, swallowed fully in cozy autumn colors. You could see now, as you peered at every single crevice of the home, why the Weasleys loved it so much. You wanted to live here, too.

“So happy you were able to come,” Ginny told you as she grasped your arms. It seemed that everyone was incredibly elated to have you join for the remainder of the summer. Everyone, that is, except for George.

He was standing on the other end of the kitchen, frozen solid, as if his feet had been cemented into the ground. He had half a glass of water placed right to his lips, but he wasn’t drinking. His whole entire body was rigid. His eyes wide with wonder. What on Earth were you doing here? In his house?

“Y/N,” he said, finally finding his voice. A bit croaky. He was trying not to stare, he really was, but he was finding it difficult. He genuinely could not peel his eyes off of you. Maybe it was the way your eyes were glistening. Maybe it was the way your dimples appeared as your lazy grin grew on your face. Perhaps, he thought, it was the very bright magenta colored ribbon in your hair, tied perfectly into a small bow at the top of your head. It was a color he’d never seen before, but one, he realized, he wanted to learn all about. “I--I didn’t know you were coming.”

“You didn’t?”

You peered at George quizzically, the two of you standing across from each other, not moving. The entire scene was rather dramatic, actually -- Fred, behind you, stifling a bit of laughter and snorting -- Molly, flushed and confused, because how could her son not know you were coming for a visit? Surely he’d heard them all discussing it the last few days? Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny, giggling slightly at the sight of a very flustered, very nervous, very obvious George.

“Freddie,” you said, whirling around to face the elder twin. “I thought you said you were going to tell him?”

A cheeky, mischievous grin appeared on Fred’s lips. “Whoops -- must’ve forgotten.”

“I’m sorry --” George started, placing his hands on the counter, trying his best not to grin like an idiot. “How long have you two been planning this?”

“Since the last day of term!” you said, finally moving forward and pulling him into a tight hug. It was very difficult for George to not melt completely into you. He did anyway, though. It’d been weeks since an embrace from you, one he’d been yearning for. Dreaming of. He’d been positively woebegone when he’d hugged you goodbye on the platform at King’s Cross. Can’t wait to see you soon! You’d said, your grin large and eyes sparkling. George had just thought you meant the new school term come September. He had no bloody idea --

Your body molded perfectly into his, and he breathed in the smell of your hair -- strawberries, he reckoned. With a dash of mint. You continued, pulling back, “I can’t believe Fred didn’t tell you!”

George, a bit woozy from the sight of you, straightened himself up and ran a hand quickly through his hair. He then cleared his throat and spoke, trying to sound casual. “I know! But, even so. Happy to have you here,” he told you, grinning at the sight of your exuberance. “More than.”

“Me too, Georgie.”

George’s happiness didn’t stop him from shooting a very scathing look at his cackling twin in the corner.

________________

You were there. Just a few floors away. You were there -- in his house, in the middle of summer holiday, for four weeks! A whole bloody month!

“I’m going to absolutely kick your arse, Fred.”

“Feeling a bit hostile, are we, Georgie? None of that in this house. Mum will have your head, I reckon.”

Fred laughed to himself as he slid into his bed and propped himself up on his pillows. He gazed at the ceiling and then at his half unpacked trunk in the corner of the room. He waited for the younger twin across the room to speak.

“Why the bloody hell didn’t you tell me?”

“I reckon because I get a right kick out of seeing you get all high strung and edgy at the mere sight of her, mate.”

George scoffed. “I could’ve used a bit more preparation, you know.”

“Mhmm.”

“She was perfect -- with that ribbon and those overalls and everything. She smelled like strawberries, Fred. Strawberries. And there I was, disgusting from your bloody Quidditch match. I’ve probably scared her off.”

Fred wanted to tell his brother how dramatic he was being, but instead, he snorted this time and threw his pillow directly at George, who groaned beneath it when it landed on his face.

“Think this is funny, do you?”

“Yeah, I do, actually.”

And George tried to hold back his laughter when Fred started on again, he really did, but he had to admit -- it was kind of funny.

He was happy. Over the bloody moon, actually. You were here, weren’t you? And you both had an entire month to do whatever you pleased. He stared through the darkness in his room, wide-eyed, the prospect of the rest of the holiday laid out in front of him like a map. He could show you the village, he could show you where he and Fred used to play as kids, his favorite shops! He could take you across the hills outside the Burrow and you two could spend the day outside under the summer sun and maybe, just maybe, his heart willing, he’d tell you. He’d tell you how his heart had skipped a beat at the sight of you in your dress at the ball. How the butterflies had danced around his stomach the entire night he spent twirling you. How he’d kept on joking just to hear you laugh. How he’d nearly short-circuited at the feeling of your lips on his cheek, just barely -- so close to his own. How he didn’t sleep that night, because all he could think about was you. Beautiful, perfect, golden -- ever-the-innocent. Ever-the-wonder.

Maybe he’d find a way to pluck up the courage. And maybe, just maybe, he thought, you’d tell him you couldn’t stop thinking about him either.

________________

“That’s where Fred and I got our love of pranks,”

George pointed to a shop in the middle of the village. It was bright and vibrant and inviting. He watched as your eyes lit up at the sight of it. You were breathless. “How old were you when you first went there?”

“Four or five, maybe?”

It was overcast today, a bit cloudy, but it wasn’t going to stop George from bringing you into the village -- especially since he was finally alone with you. He’d finally lost his family in the crowd, thank Merlin. It was a bit cool, too, and George watched as you pulled your purple cardigan tighter around you. He reached out and touched your shoulder.

“And that there,” he pointed to a small little shop off the beaten path -- quiet and gray, a bit lonely -- “that’s mum’s favorite tea shop.”

“I’m so happy you took me here, George.”

“Are you?”

“Yes!” you squealed excitedly. You pulled a bit on his shirt and stopped short in the middle of the crowded street. “I love this, all of it. Wish I’d grown up here. Wish I’d known you when we were younger.”

George felt his insides twist into a very tight knot at the thought.

“Which reminds me,” your eyes brightened as you clapped your hands together. “Your mum promised me tonight she’d show me your baby photos!”

Yep, the knot had quickly tightened even more and shot straight into his throat. He didn’t need to be embarrassed in his own home. “Erm -- dunno if that’s such a good idea.”

“Come on -- I want to see how cute you were!”

He grinned a bit and watched as horror took over your face.

“Not--not that you’re not cute now. Not that I’m looking at you that way! I mean, you are cute, Georgie -- I mean -- I just --” you sighed dramatically. George watched as your cheeks went pink. “I just want to see you as a kid,”

He couldn’t stop laughing. How much more adorable could you get? How much more beautiful? he thought. His musings must’ve called out a signal to the universe, because a very large storm cloud appeared in the sky directly over the tiny little village and opened up almost immediately.

Before you knew it, you were both soaked from head to toe. “Come on!” he yelled over the shouts of the crowd and grabbed your hand. But you pulled him back and stayed put. Your hair was now separated in fat, wet strands -- half of it plastered to the sides of your face. Your cardigan was soaked. Your shoes muddy. Your makeup streaky. And yet, as you danced around and splashed in the puddles, you were still the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his entire life.

The rain had stopped almost as quickly as it had started, and George noticed you were the only two in the middle of the street now. Surely, everyone else had run inside to escape the impactful -- albeit quick -- rainstorm. You jumped dramatically in the puddle in front of him, splashing the bottoms of his jeans and his shoes, and he said to you, warmth overtaking him despite his cold, rain soaked clothes, “You’re a wonder, you are. Like a little kid.”

Normally a comment like that would bother you. A little kid? You? How rude! You were perfectly capable of acting like an adult, thank you very much. But the way George said it, the way the words so effortlessly escaped from his lips -- it was more of a compliment than anything else. You wondered if, maybe, possibly, somehow, he’d love you in spite of it. No, no, because of it. Your innocence. “Why? You giggled, reaching out and touching his arm. You watched as the raindrops fell from his eyelashes every time he blinked. “Because I like to splash in puddles, Georgie?”

“Yes,” he replied breathlessly and pushed a piece of hair behind your ear, “because you like to splash in puddles.”

This is the moment, he thought. Your eyes were softer than they ever had been. He was almost certain he could hear the pounding of your heart. Perhaps it was his. Either way, there was something different about you now -- something different about the look in your eye, as soon as he’d reached out to touch you. Fondness. He was going to tell you, in the middle of this desolate street, underneath the overcast sky, just how overwhelming his feelings have been, ever since that day. Ever since you noticed him. Ever since he’d made you laugh, that time, in Charms. How he’d wanted to make you laugh ever since. How he wanted to make you smile the largest of smiles. I’m the one who’s been sending you those gifts. It’s me. I’ve loved you since the day I met you. The words were on the tip of his tongue --

“Oi! What’re you two doing out here?”

George grimaced at the sound of Ron’s voice; bloody hell, they’d found you. Easy, now, since the crowd had dispersed. George relished the thought of pulling you into an empty store to escape his family yet again, but it was too late. They’d noticed you. Good Godric, how much longer was he going to hold this in? It’s not very often feelings of bravery about you overtake him --

“Been playing in the rain again, Y/N, haven’t you?”

“Perhaps I was, Freddie. Something you ought to try sometime, I reckon.”

“Let’s get home!” Molly called to you all. She tutted at the sight of your soaked clothes and wrapped her shawl around your shoulders. “Oh, dear -- come, then, the Burrow awaits. I’ve got nice bowls of soup to warm you all up.”

George just stood where he was as Hermione and Ginny tugged you along to head back to the Burrow, staring at the spot you had been in front of him -- moon-eyed and shivering from the rain. Soft and close to him. Just inches away.

He felt an arm drape across his shoulder. “I can see why you fancy her so much, son.”

Arthur pulled George along, a few feet behind the rest of the crowd. George was moving forward, but wasn’t sure how. He couldn’t feel his legs or his feet. “W-what? Dad, I dunno what you’re on about.”

“Always have been a right awful liar, you have!” Arthur’s haughty laughter echoed through the street, now filling with people. “It’s why I was always able to catch you and Fred when you were younger -- you wear your heart right here!” he pointed to George’s sleeve.

“Dad,” George said through gritted teeth, both embarrassed and relieved that someone, anyone, other than Fred knew of his feelings. He swallowed his nerves and just went for it. “Nobody’s told her, have they?”

“And revealed the very best of you? No, son, I reckon your mother would have their heads.” Arthur replied. George pulled at his red hair, a carbon copy of his father’s when he was George’s age.

And suddenly, George felt a bolt of confidence race through his veins. “I was going to tell her. Right before you lot showed up. How I feel, I mean. You reckon I should? Or would I look like a prat?”

George had never really fancied discussing girls with his father -- or with anyone, for that matter, except for Fred. He’d always felt awkward about it. Being open. Being vulnerable. Letting people into his heart. But now, standing here with his father, watching the girl he’s loved for so many years -- the girl he hoped, one day, would become his wife -- he thought that maybe, just maybe, he could open his heart a bit more.

Arthur laughed again and squeezed George’s shoulder. “Not a prat, son. A brave man. You tell her when you’re ready. We’ll all be waiting.”

George, stunned, turned to look at his dad now, wide-eyed and confused. “What do you mean ‘we’ll all be waiting’?”

“Well we all love her, don’t we?” Arthur prodded on. The Burrow was in view now. George watched as you and Ginny began to do cartwheels across the hills, Ron and Fred and Hermione and Harry laughing at it all. He felt a smile lift his cheeks. Arthur continued, “Your mum adores her, you know, as does everyone else.” You turned around and raised a hand to them both before going into another cartwheel, landing in the wet grass, earning yourself laughs from your friends. You -- not poised in the slightest, but still the cutest thing he’d ever seen -- golden against the now cotton candy colored sky, and him -- desperately in love, heart on his sleeve, his feelings nearly pouring out of him. Without a shred of doubt -- he knew what being in love meant. This was being in love. George couldn’t help but laugh at his father’s next words: “And son, did you know? She knows all about these Muggle contraptions! Hope you don’t mind, but, she’s promised to tell me all about some of them after supper. Merlin’s beard!”

tag list: @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @waschbiber @dreamer821 @feffffffy @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @obsessedwithrandomthings @sleep-i-ness @shadowsinger11 @harrysweasleys @shadychaoticcollection @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @hood-and-horan @geeksareunique @insearchofnewdreams @notstandingstill-imlyinginwait @lumos-barnes @thatfuckingliardavidtennant @slytherinqween @xinyourdreamsx @skiving-snackboxess @wildfire-whizbangs @dwarfwizard-from-panem @diary-of-an-onliner @answer-the-sirens@woakiees @black-widow-fangirl @theheirofnightandday @summerstardust @whysoseriouspadfoot @chocok22 @myhopesareanchoredinyou @siriusblackisme @illusivedaydreamer @zeeneee @writingwitchly @wolfpotter12 @obsessedwithrandomthings @carolinesbookworld @shadowsinger11 @pit-and-the-pen @summer-writes @peachesandpinks @gweaslvy @alpinewinchester @letsfightsomeorcs @theweasleysredhair @purpleskiesstorm @hxfflxpxffs @wand3ringr0s3 @finecole

#george weasley #fred weasley #fred and george weasley #weasley twins #george weasley x reader #george weasley reader insert #george weasley imagine #weasley twins imagine #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fanfiction #hp imagines #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #ginny weasley #molly weasley #arthur weasley #ron weasley

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smiting-finger · 5 years ago

Text

Bin AU Headcanons

Part II of the (〃ω〃) 500 followers! unwritten-headcanon amnesty (some given in response to AO3 comment questions, and others given unsolicited, lol), this time for Out of the Bin and Into Your Heart and from me to you, my heart to yours

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian

Pre-Wei Wuxian’s first arrest, Lan Wangji was quietly volunteering as general legal aid (helping old migrants with their internet/other service contracts, helping women with their domestic violence paperwork), and then Wei Wuxian gets arrested at a protest and Lan Wangji is not there and he doesn’t know this area of law so he signs up to get involved with Activist Legal Support the next day.

Relatedly: Lan Wangji’s approach to helping Wei Wuxian has always been to turn up, do what needs to be done for Wei Wuxian to achieve his goals and then silently leave again. So when the two goobers eventually move in together (and are finally fully in each other’s space, and fully across each other’s movements), Wei Wuxian goes through a period of constant realisations like “Oh, Lan Zhan, you’re the one who’s been doing this? This as well?! THAT, TOO???”

Pre-fake dating, Lan Wangji knows that Wei Wuxian won’t keep any gifts given by secret admirers, but will shamelessly accept anything that Lan Wangji gives him outright as a friend (”friend”). He derives a petty satisfaction from that, and so has responded more than once to a gift-incident by giving Wei Wuxian a corresponding gift of his own:

So if he heard about the gift socks, he’d go out and get Wei Wuxian a pair of novelty There’s No Planet B! socks, which Wei Wuxian would naturally wear both immediately and proudly with his shortest pair of 4/5ths pants. (And Lan Wangji would stand next to him and somehow radiate smugness without making any change to his expression.)

Needless to say, Wei Wuxian has received a lot of Lan Wangji chocolate (chilli, fairtrade), lunches (homemade, nutritious) and other small items.

Wei Wuxian never even considers the possibility of not putting all his fake-dating eggs into the Lan Zhan basket. And also never stops to think about why that iss.

In re kungfu practice: when sparring against normal people, Lan Wangji does annoyed-leg-sweeps because of “I’ll bring you down every peg to the floor” reasons he’s too well-bred to voice.

Past recipients of this treatment have included:

Wen Chao,

Xue Yang at his most obnoxious

Jin Zixuan when gossip about his comments in re Jiang Yanli not being pretty or successful enough to date him (”I can’t believe my mum set me up with someone so mediocre”) is at its height.

This is pre-Wei Wuxian onstage-punch. That comes during the second round of gossip.

With Wei Wuxian (and only Wei Wuxian), however, it’s always leg sweeps and pinning, which is because of ... “irritation”.

The Phoenix Mountain Reserve photo has been Lan Wangji’s favourite shot of Wei Wuxian since it was made publicly available, but he couldn’t use it as a wallpaper for obvious reasons.

Then he agrees to the fake-dating, sees how far Wei Wuxian was going to take it and realised: chansu!

At some point during the fake-dating, Wei Wuxian escalates from the phone entry of Oppa to calling Lan Wangji “Oppa~!” in real life, and then from there to a full “Oppa! Saranghaeyo~!” with the arms-on-head love heart.

After n iterations of this, Lan Zhan responds with a mirror arms-on-head love heart and a deadpan “Saranghaeyo.” with his face still like (• _ •) and it’s an instant, supereffective K.O. for Wei Wuxian.

Every so often, when another one of his romantic overtures has soared right over Wei Wuxian’s head, Lan Wangji considers Jin Zixuan’s over-the-top demonstrations of affection and thinks (bleakly) “...Jin Zixuan got a singing telegram. Must I also resort to a singing telegram? ; _ ; “

In re: the concert hip-hop number, shirtlessness is the goal all along:

A-Qing (who is also a troublemaker on Lan Qiren’s radar - as soon as he receives the form that says that she and Wei Wuxian will be working together, his spidey senses start tingling) has been constantly referencing it throughout all their practices like:

“Well, because you’ll be shirtless, you’ll have to make sure to-”

“Yeah, that’s a great idea, totally do that, but remember that you’ll be shirtless too, so-”

Even Song Zichen and Xue Yang know about it and have been visibly bracing themselves for the dress (or undress, lul) rehearsal

Wei Wuxian has missed all of this because of his amazing tunnel vision.

Speaking of Song Zichen and Xue Yang, while they’re having their Moments:

Xiao Xingchen is swanning around like “But do you think the performance had artistic integrity? A-Qing, I’m a little worried that the choreography didn’t do full justice to the abilities of all our members! I hope they don’t think I’m hogging the limelight!”, taunting them with his half-nakedness while he earnestly tries to make sure that all the other dancers are comfortable and happy with the final arrangement

A-Qing fully notices the heart-eye beams shooting over from the wings (and fully notices the same heart-eye beams shooting over during various practices), briefly thinks about saying something to put the two losers out of their misery (because Xiao Xingchen is not the special level of oblivious that Wei Wuxian is), but then thinks ... nah.

During practice back-painting, Wei Wuxian is so focused on Not Looking that his mistimes his ~sexy stretch~ and gets it in precisely when Lan Wangji has turned his back to get the towel, so it really is all for nothing, RIP.

In the reprise back-painting session (and there definitely is one, what with Lan Wangji’s love for marking and the fact that Chinese calligraphers usually sign their name on their work), the levels of both shamelessness and trolling shoot through the roof on both sides:

Wei Wuxian suddenly feels the need to do a lot more whimpering and moaning, and his flinches of “surprise” and wriggling to “get comfortable” suddenly happen a lot more in the hip area than they did before.

Lan Wangji does a lot more touching of the skin he’s about to paint to “warn” Wei Wuxian that the brush is coming (do warnings have to be quite so ... lingering? Only Lan Wangji knows), discovers a sudden need for wrist-pinning to “hold Wei Wuxian still while he works” and his blowing on ink to get it dry suddenly gets a lot more ... sensual ...

Lan Wangji is the teacher that all his babies are always proposing to. They lOvE him with every inch of their tiny baby hearts, and after they get together, Wei Wuxian watches on with a knowing nod, like “My fam, I getcha. Gege will support you in expressing your feelings and we can ALL win!”

Wei Wuxian doesn’t know it, but he has a group of grannies and grandpas wringing their hands over his happiness, too: It’s all well and good that he’s seeing the Lan boy now, but when are they gonna get married, huh? HUH?! WHAT’S THE POINT OF SAVING THE PLANET IF YOU’RE NOT GONNA FILL IT WITH BABIES, WEI WUXIAN???

So once they officially start dating, Wei Wuxian steps into the Cultural Centre like “Ah, our fresh new romance! Even after all this time of fake-dating, I’d better give people some transition time to get used to this new state of affairs!”

And in the background, 73 aunties and grannies are thinking “Look how behind schedule you are, Wei Wuxian!” (because it’s definitely his fault, and not Lan Wangji’s). “Where are the babies? WHERE ARE THE BABIES??”

The wedding advice Wei Wuxian got from the grannies during Mianmian’s wedding prep is liberally flavoured with real life anecdotes like:

“Don’t be like XX’s son. He made the mistake of trying to skimp on the dowry - so disrespectful to people who’ve poured so much love and energy into raising a daughter - and it poisoned the entire relationship.”

“That venue is no good - YY’s daughter had her reception there, and we all had diarrhoea after eating the prawns.”

(And Wei Wuxian is like: “How can you retain all of this bullshit detail about every wedding the Cultural Society has ever witnessed, but still not know how to say the phrase ‘Excuse me, what time is the bus coming’ in English?!”)

Mianmian definitely also gets strong-armed by her excited mother into some glorious(ly terrible) Chinese-style studio wedding photos (with industrial-strength airbrushing and wedding costume changes that span many cultures and many Chinese time periods).

Mianmian swears to never let Wei Wuxian get his grubby hands on that album, on pain of death.

But then her parents host something, and Wei Wuxian goes, and right there, hanging in their living room, is a floor-to-ceiling calendar, featuring Mianmian and Mian-man dressed as Chinese emperor and empress (because Mianmian certainly didn’t want it in her house, but it came with the package.)

Wei Wuxian makes a noise that Mianmian previously thought only dolphins could produce, and proceeds to take SO MANY photos with his phone.

At some point after Mianmian’s wedding, Lan Wangji comes out of the shower to find:

1 pair of pyjama bottoms waiting for him on the bed; and

Wei Wuxian in the corresponding top (which doesn’t cover his butt after all, but whatever, he’s committed), shooting him a double-thumbs up and wearing an expression like 8D!

(And Lan Wangji decides it’s not worth fighting and just goes with it.)

Lan Qiren

Lan Qiren is totally the kind of parent who never boasts about his children directly, but will listen politely to you telling him about how your son scored 86 in his maths examination, and wait for you to obligation-ask about his kids before casually saying, “Oh, Wangji? He scored full marks” and smiling thinly.

He’ll add “Sounds like your son worked really hard” for extra fuck you value if you were being particularly obnoxious.

The greatest tragedy in his parenting life is realising that if your children are The Best, it’s only possible for them to marry down.

His initial feelings regarding Wei Wuxian dating his nephew can probably be summed up as: “Wei Wuxian, I did not lovingly raise my precious Lan Wangji just to give him to you!!!”

(The problem is that his nephew (inexplicably) likes Wei Wuxian so much, mumblegrumble.)

For weeks after The Resentment of Lan Qiren, every time Lan Qiren sees Wen Ning, he shakes his head sadly to himself and mutters “What a shame, what a shame.”

When Wen Ning responds with a slightly panicked “?!”, Lan Qiren just pats him on the shoulder, like, “No, no, it’s not you. We can’t choose our relatives. And isn’t that the greatest shame in the world?” - and then DOESN’T EXPLAIN ANYTHING.

And after many bouts of thinking and rethinking still lead him to the conclusion that Wei Wuxian is the best choice in comparison to all the other available options, Lan Qiren may or may not visit Cangse Sanren’s grave to burn some incense for an excuse to stand there and offer a sullen, “You fukken got me again, you bastard. I can’t believe you.”

He doesn’t know who he hates more:

Wei Wuxian for being himself and yet still the best choice

Cangse Sanren for not letting being dead stop her from continuing to be a thorn in Lan Qiren’s side

Wen Ruohan for being undesirable enough to disqualify the only valid competitor

The other parents for failing to produce children who are better than Wei Wuxian

(Like: Surely it can’t be that hard if he (+ his brother + his sister-in law) managed to produce two)

So he settles for hating everyone.

For his next birthday, Lan Xichen sends him a box of blood-pressure-lowering supplements.

Lan Qiren is like “!!!” but he still takes them because just because his nephew is being impudent does not mean there is not also a Need.

In re 3zun:

Lan Qiren goes around determinedly Not Thinking about Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao. Every time his eyes approach something he doesn’t want to see, he just turns his head like NOPE.

He eventually realises that he and Wei Wuxian have this in common and that Wei Wuxian is therefore his most valuable ally - both in terms of having someone to pivot to and have very loud, very enthusiastic conversations about anything else whenever the 3zun do something they don’t want to see, and also having someone to commiserate with about Not Wanting to Know. (But because they’re them, they alternate between teaming up for self-preservation and using their mutual weakness to take petty jabs at each other.)

"-If two of them are dating, then where does that leave the third one?!"

"RIGHT? Imagine finding out that they were silently pining away, forced to third-wheel for their unrequited love and best friend - unrequited LOVES AND BEST FRIENDS? What would you say to that?!"

"That's not even considering which one the third wheel would be - I honestly don't know which option would be the worst, they're all terrible."

"I'm almost ready to say that I'd rather they all be dating each other, except then I'd have to think about how that would work, dynamic-wise, like - who calls the shots? Do you think Nie Mingjue is domineering all the time, or do you think it’s a public front, and he then goes home to be dominated by-"

“STOP.”

Even before 3zun get together (both Lan Qiren and Wei Wuxian have chosen to Never Know when this is), Jin Guangyao is throwing out suggestive comments left and right and then immediately whipping out his (◔◡◔✿) face for anyone’s double-take:

50% to test the waters of public sentiment before he makes a move and it actually becomes his problem

50% because he’s a troll who likes dominance displays

Knowing this factoid, one of Wei Wuxian’s mental 3zun Dynamics possibilities features Superdom!Jin Guangyao, but he does his best to avoid thinking about that.

After Lan Qiren mentally accepts Wei Wuxian into the fold:

He still internally responds to at least 50% of the things that Wei Wuxian does with “Why, that little shit”, but it’s also implied that Wei Wuxian is their little shit now.

And for Lan Family! Qiren, this means: If you shit on him, WE shit on you.

“Shufu”

Lan Qiren definitely Notices when Wei Wuxian calls him that, but it Doesn’t Do to make a fuss.

He probably has a conversation with Lan Xichen sometime around the first family dinner that goes:

LQR: You've noticed that he's still calling me 'Uncle Qiren' like we're nothing to each other.

LXC: ...If you want him to call you Shufu, should you perhaps not mention that to him?

LQR: What? No, he should already know these things!

And then after the wedding:

LQR: Your brother's boyfriend is finally acting like one of the family. LXC: Haha, oh my.

Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan

Although their mothers have been friends for ages, Jin Zixuan grows up in a different city, so they don't see each other growing up. The Jins later move for Jin Zixuan's high-flying corporate job, Madam Jin joins the Culture Society at her friend's behest and immediately falls in love with Jiang Yanli as a daughter-in-law.

After a lot of cajoling (in both directions), she gets them to agree to one date, which is a disaster (I have more headcanons about this but they won't fit in here)

Jin Zixuan has a lot of money and zero sense of proportion, which does not generally result in tasteful things. (Where Jiang Yanli is concerned, his desire to keep up a "cool" image is completely overpowered by his desire to please, so that doesn't help either. Like a golden retriever who wants people to think he's a cat.)

After they get married, Wei Wuxian sometimes thinks about the peacock's peacocking rituals, like: "It's good that he's gotten more reasonable now that they're married - no, wait, what if he hasn't gotten more reasonable, but there's just no one around to see it because they're married?!" and never gets brave enough to ask his sister about it.

After Jin Ling's birth, Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng (and maybe even Jin Zixuan) get locked in an ongoing battle for Jin Ling's affections. Jiang Yanli is the clear favourite, as she should be, but they all want to be #2, and their constant jostling is how he ends up with no chill despite being raised by one calm mum and one aloof (but secretly disaster) dad

But because Jiang Yanli is around, he's very polite about it: the kind of kid who barrels in screaming blue murder, skids to a halt and says "Auntie", and then tears out screaming blue murder again

Wei Wuxian tones it down a lot after he and Lan Wangji adopt A-Yuan because he’s got better things to do, but it’s still A Thing (during visits, A-Yuan spends a lot of time in Auntie Yanli’s lap being gently fed things while his dad and shushu yell at each other over the top of his cousin’s head)

Lan Xichen and Jiang Yanli

Initially brought together by their brothers, they now meet up for regular, peaceful, wholesome tea-dates where they discuss the lives of their mutuals and gently exchange advice (and strategies on how to keep their angry-angry parent/proxy-parent's blood pressure down.

Whereas Jiang Cheng gets closer to coughing up blood with every year that passes by without Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji getting their shit together, Lan Xichen and Jiang Yanli take the more optimistic view of "Look at how well-prepared we are, we've just run another year ahead of schedule!"

Dinner Crew

Jiang Cheng has been the unwilling audience to years of Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji’s bullshit.

If asked, he would say: “And you wonder why I’m so angry?! What do you mean ‘dating’, you’ve been fucking married for the last five years!” but no one ever does :’D

Every so often, he thinks about how happy their sister is about the dating situation because she doesn’t know that it’s fake, and he grinds his teeth because why can’t he also not-know!?

To this, Nie Huaisang says, “If we didn’t know we couldn’t help!”

And Jiang Cheng replies, “WE’RE NOT HELPING ANYWAY, LOOK AT HIM!!!”

Meanwhile, Jiang Yanli continues to gush about how happy she is for Wei Wuxian and all Jiang Cheng can do is laugh really unnaturally because he has to “Be strong, Jiang Cheng! Be strong for A-jie! ╥﹏╥”

He goes to read the comments on the Society Facebook after the fujoshi conversation, and gets so angry at all these people who are like “Ah, their love is so beautiful!” that he has to uninstall his Facebook app, and go and shout into a cupboard somewhere.

The non-Wei-Wuxian members of the dinner group have set up a separate chat to act as a support group, where they all go to:

Wail and gnash their teeth after Wei Wuxian does something particularly dumb

Scheme ways into getting Wei Wuxian to get a clue

Console one another when someone’s brave attempt at getting Wei Wuxian to face the truth fails miserably (because while they play by the rules of ‘what a normal human would do’, Wei Wuxian lives by the principle of ‘lol norms are for losers’.)

Relatedly: for every resigned Nie Huaisang face or enraged Jiang Cheng face that Wei Wuxian notices, there are at least three desperate-yet-silent exchanges that he doesn’t.

Wen Ning is always really optimistic about it, nodding encouragingly like “He’s gonna get it - he’s gonna get it! - oh no, he’s not gonna get it. Oh. Oh no. Ó╭╮Ò”

Wen Ning always has at least one small child hanging off him at all times when he’s at the Cultural Centre because they know he can always be bullied into playing with them and they think he’s great.

Past bullshit dinner group projects have included Getting Jiang Cheng a Date and Making a Picture out of Jin Guangyao’s Forehead Dot While He’s Sleeping

(In re the forehead dot, they end up settling for making it bigger every time he nods off during a movie night at Nie Huaisang’s house, and Nie Mingjue comes home to what’s basically a Japanese flag on Jin Guangyao’s forehead and is like ಠ_ಠ)

Future dinner group projects include providing Wei Wuxian with support for Grand Plans like Getting Along with Uncle Qiren and providing Jiang Cheng with unwanted support for things like Workshopping Jiang Cheng’s List of Partner Requirements

A-Yuan

After A-Yuan’s adoption, Wei Wuxian and Lan Qiren redouble their efforts in Can we divorce an in-law?! because although they couldn’t save themselves from being related to Jin Guangyao, for their PRECIOUS BOY--

Therefore, when A-Yuan is five or six and starts to sound out how he’s related to people and why:

A-Yuan: So if Jin-yeye is Uncle Guangyao’s dad, then that makes him my-

Wei Wuxian: NOTHING!

Lan Qiren (springing up from the other side of the room): NOTHING!

Lan Xichen: lol

At around about this same time, Wei Wuxian, who is never gonna stop trolling Lan Qiren about ruzhui until the day he dies, runs A-Yuan through the “You see, my son, my family is not so well-to-do, and since your Uncle married into the Nie family-” talk, and then proceeds to reference it at every opportunity:

1: Despite A-Yuan almost certainly not asking, and

2: despite (/especially because of) Lan Qiren shouting “DON’T TEACH HIM WEIRD THINGS!” in the background.

(Lan Wangji probably lets it happen or encourages it because he thinks it’s funny)

#CQL #The Untamed #Wangxian #陈情令 #魔道祖师 #mo dao zu shi #not-fic

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straykidsftw · 5 years ago

Text

Anniversary / LMH

genre: slight angst, fluff

requested?: yes (anon)

summary: in which, upon you becoming deaf, minho goes out of his way to learn sign language

warnings: none

________

5th May [07:53]

“I’ll put your coffee over here,” Minho said, pointing to the coffee table as you nodded, stretching and making your way over to the cats in the middle of your living room.

“Dori-ah!” you cooed, crouching down to stroke the youngest cat, laughing as you felt the vibrations she made through your hand, “and Soongie, and Doongie, yes, I haven’t forgotten about you.”

Minho chuckled, tapping your head gently so you knew he was talking to you, “I need to go to practise, okay? I’ll be home this evening.”

You smiled, giving him a thumbs up, “I’ll make dinner for when you come back.”

Minho hummed, “sounds good. Remember to give the cats their dinner, and you need to add...”

“Minho,” you said, chuckling slightly, “come back, I can’t see what you said.”

Minho apologised, motioning to the kitchen, “you need to add their medicine. I went to get it.”

He laughed as you shook your head, flicking his thigh before standing back up.

“See you later, okay?” Minho said.

You nodded, kissing him, “love you.”

“What’s ‘love you’ in sign language?” Minho asked.

You quickly showed him, smiling as he continued to sign the words until he left the front door.

“Love you too!”

5th May [14:04]

“Minho, we’re thinking of going out for dinner on Saturday night, do you and Y/N wanna join us?” Chan asked.

Minho hummed, not looking up from the screen in front of him.

“Minho,” Chan repeated, “Lee Minho?”

He snapped his fingers in front of the younger boy’s face, making Minho pause the video and look up.

“Yeah?”

“We’re going out for dinner on Saturday night and wondered if you and Y/N wanted to come,” Chan said, exasperated, “what are you even doing?”

“I’m– I’m learning a language,” Minho said, “and yeah, we’ll come to dinner.”

“Language? I think you need speaking practise as well,” Chan chuckled, sitting beside his friend, “what language?... oh.”

He looked at Minho’s phone screen, the woman signing with her hands and explaining each word and the different ways of signing them.

“Korean sign language,” Minho sighed, “Y/N learnt it at the hospital and in therapy, but because we were having a comeback then, I couldn’t learn it with her.”

“I thought Y/N could still talk?” Chan said, his voice sounding shocked.

Minho nodded, “no, she can, she can. But it would just be nice to be able to have a conversation freely. Every time I talk to her I’m worried about my pronounciation and whether she can see or not. And I can’t understand her all the time either.”

Chan sighed, “I’m sorry, man. I know it’s been a huge change.”

Minho shrugged, “she’s still Y/N, she’s still my girlfriend. Just... no longer hearing.”

“You’re a pretty awesome person, Min, not many people would think that,” Chan smiled, “I’ll tell the boys you’re not feeling well, alright? Just keep practising. Also, get yourself some real lessons, YouTube can only go so far.”

Minho chuckled, nodding as Chan got up to leave, “oh. By the way, can you... not tell Y/N about this?”

Chan smiled, miming zipping up his lips and throwing away the key.

5th May [18:58]

“I’m home!” Minho yelled, before sighing as he looked at Soongie in front of him scowling, “oops, sorry. You’re probably the only one who suffered from that.”

Minho walked to the kitchen, tapping your head as you continued to chop up vegetables.

You jumped slightly, before smiling, “welcome home!”

Minho smiled, “what are you making?”

“Vegetable pancakes,” you said, continuing to chop up the ingrediants before dropping them in the bowl with the pancake mix, “also, I’m supposed to be getting my new hearing aids on Friday, hopefully with them I’ll be able to hear people who are close to me.”

“Strangers can go fuck themselves,” Minho said.

You rolled your eyes, laughing, “you know that’s not what I meant. Go set the table, these will be ready soon.”

“Yes miss.”

8th May [19:05]

Minho ran into the living room, waving as you smiled.

“Wait! Look at this!” you exclaimed, grabbing the small case off the table and putting in your new hearind aids, “speak to me, my love.”

Minho laughed.

“See! I kinda heard it,” you exclaimed, “it’s small, but more than nothing!”

Minho smiled, pulling you into a hug, “I love you.”

“Love you too,” you smiled.

“You gonna wear those tomorrow at dinner?” Minho asked, as you nodded.

“First time out,” you sighed, nervously.

“And it’ll be fun,” Minho said, kissing your forehead, “I’ll be beside you all night, it’ll be okay.”

9th May [18:46]

“Cheers!”

Everyone clinked their glasses in the middle of the table, taking a sip before putting them back down.

“Y/N....” Chan started.

You swore quietly, turning to Minho.

“I can’t hear him,” you said, “I don’t think it’s working because of the noise here.”

Minho nodded, rubbing your back, “it’s okay. Her hearing aids aren’t working, you’re gonna have to speak clearly so she can lip read.”

“Sorry,” you laughed sheepishly.

Chan shook his head, repeating his earlier statement, “how’s college going.”

You gave him a thumbs up, smiling.

“It’s really good! I thought it’d be really different going back after losing my hearing, but it was as if nothing changed,” you said.

“But...?” Changbin repeated, “sorry, I didn’t understand.”

You shook your head, repeating the sentence.

Changbin nodded, “that’s good! How’s the course?”

9th May [22:55]

“I’m gonna cry.”

“Why?” Minho asked, crawling over your smaller frame, brushing some hair away from your face.

“That was so humiliating! My hearing aids stopped working and I kept having to repeat what I was saying!” you exclaimed, “am I really that bad at talking?”

Minho shook his head, “you’re doing amazing, it was just really loud in the restaurant. Maybe in future we’ll go somewhere quieter.”

You sighed, nodding.

“Our anniversary’s in a few weeks, let’s just do something quiet, hmm?” Minho said, laying beside you as his thumb massaged your side gently.

“You say that like I’ve forgotten,” you teased, “I’ve already got your gift.”

Minho smiled, “I’m working on yours.”

“Working on it?” you asked, confused.

Minho nodded, stroking your head, “you’ll understand on the day.”

29th May [09:26]

“Good morning, love,” Minho smiled, watching as your eyes fluttered open, immediately squeezing shut again in reaction to the light.

“Wait,” you said with a yawn, “hearing aids.”

Minho grabbed your wrist, pulling you back towards him.

“Ya, I can’t hear you,” you said, rubbing your eyes as you sat up, looking at your boyfriend angrily.

‘You don’t need them,’ Minho signed.

“Huh?”

“Was that not good?” Minho asked, nervously.

You furrowed your eyebrows, signing back, ‘when did you learn that?’

‘Happy Anniversary,’ he smiled, nervously signing the newly learnt words, ‘this is your gift. I’ve been working for the past few weeks.’

“Minho,” you sighed, signing back, ‘this is the best present. I can’t believe that you’ve actually done this.’

Minho shrugged, ‘it’s easier for you. I want you to be comfortable.’

You smiled, your eyes filling with tears as you leaned forward, grabbing your boyfriend’s face and kissing him.

Minho smiled as he pulled away, signing again, ‘what was that for?’

‘You’re the best boyfriend I could ask for,’ you smiled, ‘just the fact you stayed with me is more than I could of asked for, and now this.’

‘And I’ll be here to help you. Whenever.’

You smiled, laughing slightly as you wiped away a tear, ‘my present looks really shit now.’

Minho laughed, shaking his head, ‘give it to me.’

You shrugged, grabbing Minho’s hand, “come with me.”

Minho looked at you confused, but followed you anyway.

“This isn’t the present I originally got you,” you sighed, before continuing with your signs, ‘but I found this, and I thought you’d like him.’

“Him?!” Minho exclaimed, gasping in shock as you pulled a tiny cat from it’s zipped bag they’d given you from the adoption centre.

‘He doesn’t have a name,’ you signed, ‘you can decide. I found him on a street under a car, originally I took him to the adoption centre, but then I adopted him myself. I couldn’t stop thinking about him.’

But Minho wasn’t looking at you, he was sat on the floor, stroking the cat in front of him.

‘How could you think this was shit?!’ Minho signed, looking up at you angrily.

‘Cause your’s is life changing,’ you signed, ‘and I’m just really thankful for what you’ve done.’

‘What do you want to name him?’ Minho asked, standing up and kissing you softly, ‘you can choose.’

You shook your head, ‘you choose. You’ve worked hard.’

Minho smiled, leaning down and kissing you again, ‘okay.’

“That easy, huh?” you laughed.

“I’m gonna start talking again if you keep that up,” Minho said, looking at you so you could read his lips, also instinctively signing a little bit.

“I just bought us a cat!” you exclaimed.

‘My cat now.’

#stray kids #skz #lee minho #minho #lee know #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #skz scenarios #skz fluff #lee minho scenarios #lee minho fluff #minho scenarios #minho fluff #kpop #jyp #jyp entertainment #deaf!reader

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