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katsukisbimbo · 4 years ago

Text

Then and Now | one

✯pairing: ryōmen sukuna x reader x gojo satoru

✯summary: where gojo’s best friend is the reincarnation of sukuna’s former lover.

✯wordcount: 4.3k+

✯warning: fem! reader, she/her pronouns, swearing

✯note: omg i’ve literally been sitting on this for 3 weeks but here it is!!! i’ve fallen down a jjk hole and i don’t think i can ever get up

✯playlist

part two

“Satoru! Where’s Megumi? You said he’d be here? Something about looking for a special grade?” you bounced around, grasping his arm and shaking it along with you. You loved annoying him. The two of you had always been close. As a child, Gojo was still as bright and cocky as he was today, he had many proclamations of being your protector. Though, as you two aged, you learned how to protect yourself, becoming a jujutsu sorcerer whilst staying by his side. Of course, you were nowhere as talented as Gojo, but you never let that stop you, and he never used that fact against you.

You were still high in the rankings, a grade 1 to be exact, and you worked hard to get there. Not because you wanted to catch up with Gojo, but because you wanted to make him proud. He was the only one who had supported you through it all. Your parents weren’t much help, but Gojo was there for you when your world was crashing down, when you had broken into pieces he would be the one to put you back together.

Always.

There had never been a time where you had doubted Gojo. Until, maybe now.

“I dunno, I got souvenirs!! Kikufuku Mochi! They’re really good! You gotta eat some with me!” his mouth quirked up into a boyish grin. Gojo never lost his childishness and that was something you had always admired, even if his personality constantly irked you during your tween years. Nonetheless, you both stay loyal to one another.

You couldn’t help but smile at him.

“Why’re ya smiling like a weirdo? You got a crush on me or somethin’? He teased, using his free hand to boop the fluff of your cheek with his pointer finger. He never failed to ruin the moment. Typical Gojo. You sighed, running a hand over your face. “Shut up Gojo, let's go find Megumi before something bad happens to the kid.” you huffed, earning a laugh from your companion.

___

“You didn’t tell me the cursed object was Ryomen Sukuna’s finger.”

“You never asked.”

“You little-”

“What’s the situation?” he suddenly spoke, cutting you off whilst catching the attention of both Megumi and the strawberry haired male. You knew in an instance that this male was the vessel of Ryomen Sukuna. He emitted the curse energy of Sukuna himself. You always felt a connection to Sukuna and had helped find several clues and his fingers, resulting in the higher-ups permanently putting you on this case.

“Gojo-sensei! Why are you here?” Megumi exclaimed, his eyes soon darted to your figure right beside Gojo. “Y/n-sensei too?” he gaped. It was obvious that both you and his mentor were close, though, lately, it felt like there was something deeper going on between both of you.

“Hey! How are you Megumi?” you chimed, approaching his wounded figure. “I don’t think he’s good Y/n. He’s all beat up!” he responded, fishing his cell phone out of his pocket. “I should show the second-years!”. He laughed as he snapped a few embarrassing pictures to send to his other students, causing Megumi to turn and hide his shame, along with his injuries.

“The higher-ups wouldn't shut up with a special-grade cursed object missing, so I stopped by while doing some sightseeing.” he huffed, knowing Gojo, he rolled his eyes. You did understand his dislike for the higher-ups. They tended to be more traditional and strict with their ways, while Gojo was...not. Of course, you would always stand by Gojo, even if it meant going up against your superiors. It was all or nothing with him.

“Then Y/n showed up! I don’t even know where she came from!” he loudly exclaimed, as if he wasn’t that skilled to the point where he could sense you the moment you step into the vicinity. You rolled your eyes, whilst the two boys sweatdropped. “So, did you find it?” he queried, staring directly at his student.

“Um… Sorry, but I ate it” the strawberry-haired male awkwardly chimed in.

A pause.

“For real?”

“For real.” the two replied in unison.

Gojo moved to observe him, leaning in close to his face. His chin propped onto his right hand in contemplation, a little pout forming onto his lips. He leaned in close with a laugh before pulling away from the male. Sometimes Gojo forgot that boundaries existed. The thought made you sigh, your mind suddenly recalling the time Gojo had tried to convince you to take a bath with him while still being in the tub, the bubbles barely covering what they needed to cover. Of course, Gojo enjoyed teasing you, along with being able to see your cute flustered face. You were pulled out of your daydream as he suddenly spoke, not realizing that you had completely missed their conversation.

“Then give us ten seconds. Once ten seconds are up, come back to us.” Gojo demanded as he stretched. You stretched your hand out towards him, taking his souvenir to protect it. You knew Gojo was craving to fight Sukuna. You could feel it. You were aware that he was stronger since he had only ingested one of twenty cursed fingers of Sukuna, but that still did not ease your anxiety.

Megumi, knowing how much of an overthinker you are, gently grasped your hand hanging on your side, lightly squeezing it in reassurance, as if to say ‘He’ll be okay, he’s the strongest.” You proceeded to nod at him and return the gesture. You pulled out a clean handkerchief, moving to slowly wipe the blood away from his face, aware of the fact that it would take some time to get him the proper medical attention he needs.

“But…”

“Don’t worry, I’m the strongest.” he cheekily responded. That eased your anxiety even more. You rolled your eyes once more at his cockiness. A small part of you hoped that Gojo would be graced with the opportunity to get his ass kicked, but a bigger part of you was aware of how strong Gojo was, and knew how quickly he would be able to defeat Sukuna’s vessel.

You slowly sat beside Megumi, straightening the short length of your skirt while stretching your legs. You had a love-hate relationship with your jujutsu uniform, love because you looked amazing in it, and hate because a certain someone made your skirt length a tad bit too short. Of course, you wore shorts underneath, but it was still irrational to force all of the females to wear something as revealing as a skirt.

Technically, it wasn’t mandatory for you to wear the uniform but Gojo insisted as it would raise “morale”.

As Gojo continued to ramble on, a dark figure was already ascending, aiming for Gojo himself.

“Behind you!” yelled Megumi, frantically reaching for your hand to pull you away but you just brushed him off, patting his knee to reassure him. “Don’t worry Megumi, I got you, just let Gojo have his fun.” he slowly nodded, still listening to his mentor ramble about mochi.

In a split second, Gojo was sitting atop of Sukuna, whilst Sukuna was crouched between your thighs, his arms on either side of your legs, the skin of your thighs barely brushing against his forearms. You laughed at his incredulous expression before raising a hand to pat his cheek and mockingly pouting before blowing him a kiss. Leaving him stunned, he quickly snapped out of his daydream before continuing to attack Gojo.

___

Your eyes fluttered open, the bed of flowers soft underneath your fingertips. You glanced around, hoping to find something, someone, anything familiar within the vicinity. Panic engulfed you, bile steadily rising in your throat. Tears began to gather in your eyes. Being in unfamiliar places had always given you a large amount of anxiety, especially since you’d just been sitting beside your pupil while watching your best friend fight the king of curses.

“What are you doing just sitting there dumbass?” a gruff voice called from behind you. You whipped your head back, hoping to find someone you know, but no such luck. The person behind you was quite intimidating. They emitted straight power and confidence. Unable to say anything, you stood there gaping at the stranger.

“What? Why’re you staring at me Y/n? You like me that much?” he teased, stepping closer to your figure to brush the stray leaves that had fallen onto your head. Even if he was a stranger, you felt no need to flinch or run away from him. The air around him had a sense of familiarity. As if he were a warm blanket amidst a harsh winter. You wanted to wrap yourself in him, feel him and his warmth. His love.

“Come on, let’s go princess. I don’t need you getting sick ‘cuz you were being a dumbass.” he sighed, wrapping his arm around your waist before pressing a kiss on your forehead.

At that moment, everything had faded away, leaving you with nothing but butterflies and the tingling sensation left on your forehead from his loving kiss.

___

You glanced at your shocked pupil. His eyes are wide with his mouth agape. “Y/n-sensei… Have you finally lost it? Y-You just patted Sukuna’s cheek!” he loudly exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air. You laughed before avoiding his gaze, concealing the visible traces of shock etched on your face with a smile.

That vision. You have never had something of that sort ever occur in your lifetime. Your mind was completely muddled. Barely registering the next words that leave Gojo’s mouth.

“Both my student and my future girlfriend are watching, so I’m going to show off a little,” he smirked, leaning back onto Sukuna. They continued to fight, not that you were paying attention. You felt Gojo’s stare land on you a couple of times, yet your mind was still occupied with what you had seen.

You suddenly shot up, carrying Megumi as Sukuna’s vessel came skidding towards the both of you. You ran behind Gojo, knowing that it would be safer for Megumi. You sighed once more before sitting Megumi down. Dusting your skirt, you dug into Gojo’s bag of treats before munching on a piece of mochi.

“You jujutsu sorcerers are always trouble, no matter what era!” Sukuna growled, pointedly staring at you as he launched another attack at Gojo. “Though that doesn’t mean much to me.” he continued smugly before his eyes widened, seeing as the three of you had come out fully unscathed.

Megumi sighed as Gojo continued to count down, Sukuna’s vessel returning to his body once more after ten seconds, just as Gojo had instructed him to do so. You droned out for the rest of the conversation, lost in your thoughts on who the male could be. It couldn't be Gojo, the male's voice had a gruffness that Gojo didn’t have.

“You can really control it.” Gojo mused, stepping towards him.

“He’s kind of annoying though, I can hear his voice. He keeps mentioning this girl. Her name is Y/n I think? He keeps cursing her out! Saying things like ‘After almost a millennia she shows up!’ and ‘I’m never forgiving her, no matter how pretty she looks in that skirt.’ and--” he paused, scratching the back of his head. “He just swore at me for exposing him.”

Both Gojo and Megumi turned to you, eyebrows raised in curiosity. You froze. You weren’t sure of what these two wanted to hear, as you are just as clueless to the situation as they are. Contemplating how to answer, you ended up shrugging your shoulders, stuffing your face with even more mochi, resulting in Gojo sighing before knocking out and carrying the male.

___

You sighed, throwing yourself onto your bed before glancing at the cursed object currently on the palm of your hand. Sukuna’s severed finger was long while his nails were sharp. You traced the skin of the fingers, your curiosity getting the best of you. You studied his fingers from time to time but never got tired of looking at them, feeling the immense power it held.

“Why are you still up?”

“Fuck you Satoru. I hate it when you sneak up on me like that you bastard,” you grumbled, shoving your face even further into your pillows to avoid seeing his cheeky smile that you adored. “Aw. You’re so mean to me,” he fake pouted. “I just wanna be… appreciated,” he yelled in tiny, quoting that one lady.

“Come here. Take off your jacket and go change into proper nightclothes, assuming you’re staying the night again.” rolling your eyes. Satoru had made a habit of sleeping in your room, leaving his quarters almost always vacant. He basically lived with you! Even when both of you would see each other almost every day! Excluding the days when you are both on missions.

He smiled before rummaging through your drawers and silently made his way into the bathroom, shutting the door with a soft ‘click’”

When he came back, you were already fast asleep. Your fluffy sheets enveloping your whole figure, making you look so small in the mess of sheets you peacefully laid in. So beautifully peaceful. He smiled, leaning down to give your forehead a small peck, then situating himself beside your figure and pulling your body into his arms, knowing how well you slept when you were held.

___

You inwardly groaned, feeling as if your head was about to be split into two. You looked around, stuck in an unfamiliar place once more. This time, it was real life. You could feel it. You were able to control all your actions unlike during the first occurrence. Meaning that the vision you experienced may have been a memory, maybe from your past life.

This place had a menacing aura, a silent force pushing you to bend to its will. You knew better. Being an experienced sorcerer yourself. You grasped the holsters located under your skirt, silently clutching the pair of your guns before walking forward. You were able to enclose your cursed energy into your guns, shooting them out whenever and however you pleased.

“Nice guns. I remember when you didn’t use any weapons at all. Only using your cursed energy to fight. You were a much better fighter back then.” a voice drawled, a shiver going up your spine. You whipped around, eyes widening at the King of Curses sitting on his rightful throne. “What are you talking about Ryomen Sukuna?” you growled, clicking the safety off of your weapons.

“So formal. You used to call me Su-chan, you know?” he smirked, greedily enjoying your facial expressions. “That was then. Before you fucked me over,” he growled, his face contorting into anger. “You don’t remember what you did to me. Do you? You’re selfish. Then and now. You’re so fucking selfish. Get out before I lose my patience with you.” he growled, fists balling.

Your jaw dropped in shock. You didn’t expect his personality to flip so quickly.

“Fuck you, man. I don’t even know you. You don’t even know me like that. Stop acting like you do! What do you mean ‘back then’? You’re swearing at me without even telling me what I did!” one step. “You’re a bitch!” two steps. “You’re a pussy!” three steps. “Fuck you!” you were running now. “You’re a fucking dick! Suck my dick!” you spat right in front of his face, leaving him stunned. Who was crazy enough to curse out the literal King of Curses?

One, in his domain. Two, when he’s no less than a foot away. And three, to his actual face. Only an absolute mad person. It was a fitting description. You angrily peeked at his expression. Waiting for him to obliterate you. His hooded expression is dark. You stilled, unsure of what to do. He… He wasn’t moving nor speaking. Could you just leave? You weren’t even aware of where you are or how you even got here.

“Hey... Are you okay? You haven’t moved in a while. I’m sorry for swearing at you, but you kinda deserved it, not gonna lie.” scratching your head. You continued to stand awkwardly, hoping that he would just stop tormenting you with the silence.

“He-Ah!” you screeched as you were pulled into his lap. His arms wrapping around your waist to constrict you from moving, his hands entwining behind your back. You positioned one of your pistols beneath his chin, forcing him to meet your gaze. He smirked, placing a kiss on the barrel of your gun, further flustering you, warmth spreading to your cheeks.

“You still don’t know how to listen. After a thousand years.” he chuckled. “You’re still the same. Disregarding my anger, even though you’re aware of what I’m capable of.” he softly smiled. An unfamiliar sight. “You never liked listening to me in the first place did you?” he queried, tilting his head up to face you. The grip on your gun faltering. You leaned into him, your weapons falling down your side, clattering down the floor. Sukuna licked his lips.

You moved to kiss him. Your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him closer to you, your lips fully pressing against his. The feeling of his lips hot and familiar on yours. You moved to clutch his hair, wanting to pull him into you, only for your world to break apart, plunging you into darkness.

___

You jolted awake, flying off of your bed and into the bathroom. Startling Gojo in the process. You splashed water onto your face in hopes of somehow calming your heart down. You remembered your dream vividly. Heavy footsteps made their way to you. You turned to face Satoru, tearing stinging your eyes as he automatically opened his arms and pulled you in.

“What’s wrong kiddo?” he cooed, pressing soft kisses onto your forehead. ‘Kiddo’ had been a childhood nickname bestowed upon you by your childhood friend himself. Seeing as you were younger than him. You clutched him tighter, wanting to feel him surround your whole body.

“I don’t know bunny. I just don’t know anymore.” you continued to sob whilst Satoru continued to hold you, his concern evident through the crease of his eyebrows, his bright cerulean eyes piercing through you. You didn’t understand what you were going through. Were you upset because of your affiliation to Sukuna? Were you upset because of the kiss? How were you going to tell Satoru about the kiss?

“You don’t have to tell me what’s going on. Even though I might already know. But, just try to calm down okay? Can you take deep breaths for me kiddo? Come on, you got this. You’re a good girl. In. Out. Yeah, that’s it baby.” he continued to comfort you, the sound of his voice soothing all your negative feelings and thoughts.

After another ten minutes of standing in the bathroom wrapped in his arms, your cries have finally ceased, your soft sniffles and puffy red eyes the only proof of your sadness. “Come on kiddo, wash your face for me. It’ll fix the puffiness.” rubbing your arms before making his way out of the bathroom, giving you time to gather yourself.

Your mind drifted back to Sukuna. Your fingertips unconsciously drifting to your lips, the kiss plaguing your mind. He had spoken quite a bit about how you never listened. Very accurate but how would he have known? It wasn’t as if he knew you. The possibility of knowing Sukuna in one of your past lives was close to impossible. He must be playing tricks with you, trying to bend you to his will. You may have had a moment of weakness last night, but it was going to be the first and the last time you let yourself go in front of him.

___

“Eat my ass Satoru!”

“Well, I’ve been trying for years bu-” he yelped, clutching the arm that you mercilessly attacked. He had a nasty habit of making too many sexual jokes. Of course, you weren’t going to deny the fact that you’ve shared similar thoughts, but you would rather jump out of a moving car than admit it to your best friend. Knowing him, his ego would triple and nobody had the time or patience for that.

“You are so mean!” he pouted.

“I am not! You’re just a little piss baby.”

“I’m filing for a divorce. I can’t tolerate this slander anymore.” he huffed, walking away after absolutely destroying him in Mario Kart. His pride took a hit. He had taught you that game! You couldn't be that much better than him, the screen displaying fifth place while you came second. You giggled as you followed him, clinging onto his arm as you peeked at his sour expression.

“Don’t be a sore loser Satoru. It’s not cute.” you chastised. Pointing your index finger at him, resulting in him playfully biting at you. “So what I’m hearing is, I’m cute the rest of the time.” he flirted, lowering his sunglasses to wink at your steadily heating face.

“Sure, but we both know who’s the cutest.”

“Of course you’re the cutest kiddo.”

“I was talking about Nanami, but sure. That’s good too.”

His jaw dropped. Did you find Nanami cuter than him? The Gojo Satoru? He was visibly stressing, running a hand through his soft snowy locks before letting out an exasperated sigh. “Fine. You’re not cute. You can go play with Nanami. I don’t like you anymore.” he pouted once more, shaking you off of him. “Noo-” you tightened your hold on him, pulling him to the exit of the arcade. “Let’s go get ramen. My treat since you’re so cute.” You teased.

You smiled at him before facing forward, missing the way Satoru’s lips parted in awe, a light blush dusting his soft pale cheeks. His wide eyes are full of love hidden behind the lens of his sunglasses. He turned away from you, placing his vacant hand on his chest, a futile attempt at calming down his racing heart.

“Okay.”

___

“Oh. You’re back.” he deadpanned, eyes boring into your figure. The setting was different today. Instead of being in what you had assumed what his domain looked like, you were sitting beside him on the engawa of a quaint traditional Japanese home. You scowled, furrowing your eyebrows as you scowled at the nonchalant male.

You lunged at him, hoping to pin him down to press for answers. Not realizing that your attire had also changed, tripping on the length of your floral patterned yukata, resulting in you landing on top of Sukuna himself. His eyebrows almost flying up to his hairline.

You peeked at him. His hair dishevelled, a rosy blush adorning his cheeks. Your eyes trailed lower, unable to look him in the eyes. A mistake on your part. His white yukata had slightly unravelled, exposing his tan, golden chest to your wandering eyes. Your mouth is drying up at the sight. Unconsciously licking your lips.

His shocked expression replaced with his usual smirks, his fangs making an appearance. “Didn’t know that you wanted it that bad, princess. What’s wrong? Your little friend isn't enough for you?” he sneered, gripping your waist with his hands, his razor-sharp nails slightly digging into your sides, causing you to squirm uncomfortably.

“What is your problem you freak?” you growled, fisting the fabric of his clothes.

“Me? I’m not doing shit babe. It’s you who has a problem.” he scoffed, sitting up, inching his face close to yours. Your noses lightly bump into each other as you felt your cheeks heat at the contact.

“Why so shy princess? I remember when you used to make me eat my words. You were so cute back then. Thinking that you owned me, thinking that you were in charge of me. Learn where you stand. You are nothing to me”

Lies continued to spew out of his mouth like vomit. He knew he was lying. He knew that you had him wrapped around your finger that moment he saw your face once more. The anger of the past dissipated. Only you left. It wasn’t his fault. You were his only love and you left him. Well, that's how he saw it.

The pain of losing his love had left an ever-present scar on his nonexistent heart. You had been the only person to ever stay by his side, no matter how much he tried to push you away, to insult you, make you hate him. To no avail, you bulldozed your way into his life and his heart.

“Stop lying to me. I know you’re lying. I can feel you lying Sukuna. I-I don’t know how to explain it...but I just know. I don’t know you, but you feel so familiar. Your habits, your personality. I keep getting flashbacks, or memories. I’m not sure. Though, I do know that they aren’t mine. At least… not in this life…” you trailed off, avoiding his piercing gaze. “But I know that the guy in those visions are you. It just… feels like you. Your warmth, your words, your voice…even your touch” you gently placed your forehead against his, closing your eyes for no sole reason. Only wanting to feel his energy. Feel him.

He sighed.

“Still the same as ever, princess. Always find your way into my heart” he heartily chuckled before continuing, placing the warm palm of his hand against your cheek. Your eyes flutter open at the contact. “I’ll explain since you asked so nicely” he winked, patting your cheek almost mockingly, reminding you of the time you once did the same. Heat rose to your cheeks.

“So…” he started.

████████████████

What.

████████████████████████████████

What was going on?

████████████████

You saw his mouth moving though no words escaped. You tilted your head in confusion, causing him to pause before cupping your cheeks.

████████████████████████

No words were heard. You were even unable to hear your cries.

████████

“I’m sorry.”

Then black.

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sunnylolli · 2 years ago

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Ooo if you’re up to it right now, could you elaborate on the Fae nations thing? That sounds so cool! Are they like an offshoot or subspecies??

EDIT: I wrote an america-centric one-shot for this here!: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43469841

(Sorry for the late reply, I’ve had this in my drafts because I kept thinking of new things, but these are what I can coherently say for now!)

Oooo!!! Okay okay, this might be a bit rambly, my absolute passion is folklore and creatures from it-

I have a few different ways I think of them in regards to the fae, I can't seem to settle for just one, but the first one I have actually written out as if it was a little myth told to you by your great grandmother or something:

1st. Basically a rough outline that Nations WERE human, but somewhere along the way, came to embody the tribe or village they were in, and the first to do that, 'turned' after getting firewood in the forest:

There are men and children and women and old hags, that wander far and wide in search of the destination that holds their fate. Some will find riches and greatness, others poverty and insignificance. Each walk along the same righteous path, that runs through the same forest, where only the curves and the winding of the road knows where they might end up on the other side of the trees.

But there have been men and children, women and hags, who has been good and evil. Who speaks pure neutrality and moral ambiguity. Their sins weigh equal to their merits, and the heavens cannot decide which path they may lead. So when they enter that forest, and walk along that path to greatness or insignificance, their road will wind and curve and twist and turn itself into knots and scramble until suddenly, it will have sense no longer. And these men and children, Women and Hags, will be lost. Fated to walk along that road for eternity. You might see them wandering among the trees, muttering to themselves and trying to find their way. Do not fear them, for they will not harm you. If they speak to you, answer, but do not dawdle. It won't do you any good, speaking to wanderers in the woodlands. You might end up being turned around, and get lost yourself.

2nd.: Basically playing off the idea that Nations weren't always human-personifications and didn't live among people, but rather lived a non-corporal existence of embodying the land and the earth of their “districts” so to speak. You could occasionally be lucky enough to speak to them, and usually the ones that got the chance to, were people who had nowhere to go; No kin, friends or lovers and no hope for the future. They would seek to make a deal with the land. To become a part of it, to feel like they would belong to something and/or someone, somewhere. To feel important and cared for, like they matter in the world.

In exchange, the land would get to inhabit their body and flesh, and animate that vessel as they wished, for as long as the land, the trees and the earth remained. Basically, personifications are simply people who had nothing and no one and who sold their life to a non-corporal entity in the woods. Said non-corporal entity then basically merged with their mind and made a sort of amalgamation between a human being with a personality, feelings, opinions and a fully shaped self, and an immortal creature that knows everything and everyone that touches upon the land within its borders - Thus keeping the poor sod who made the deal to begin with, literally feel surrounded by people, forest creatures, animals, trees and lakes all over the country. Effectively taking embracing them and gently lulling that feeling of loneliness.

The Land-creature isn’t malicious, ill-intended or EVIL, it simply is and it simply wished to experience itself. Literally wanted to experience itself from its inhabitants’ point of view. It created itself and then it wanted to experience itself.

#hetalia #Hetalia au #Hetalia lore #Historical hetalia

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matan4il · 3 years ago

Note

hi : ) coming for the words of my fave meta expert! So I personally watched 911 pretty late (before season 5 started) and I obviously wasn't really part of the fandom at the time but I was thinking how different it was for me seeing friendship between Eddie and Lena Vs Buck and Taylor (before 4x14), the latter making me rather uncomfortable but hey, that's maybe me biased. I'm really interested in your POV, having watched the seasons mostly weekly from I think S3, was it obvious from meta and fandom reactions that LenaEddie were going nowhere romantically and why they could have that sort of friendship when Buckt*ylor clearly couldn't. I'm sorry, I hope I made a bit sense with my rambling xd

Hi Nonnie! Awwww, that is such a sweet compliment, thank you so much, you made my day! *HUGS*

Soooo... I actually started watching 911 before I started writing the weekly meta. I was just anxious about joining the fandom actively (it's the same with most fandoms for ships/characters that I love. I just quietly ship to myself and write meta in my own head). But then 309 and 310 were SO GOOD in terms of Buddie content, that I just HAD to get the meta out of my head or I would explode. So I wrote my first round of Buddie meta for seasons 1 to 3a and thought that this was it, I was done. But then I got such lovely reactions (even though I originally posted my meta on Twitter, which is the WORST website for meta, but hey, like I said. I wasn't looking to become an active part of fandom. The fact that despite that, I got awesome reactions ended up helping me take the plunge and join more properly on Tumblr sometime during the s3 mid-season hiatus). So that's how I somehow ended up doing the weekly meta posts from 3b on.

All that to explain that during the start of 3a, when Lena was introduced, I wasn't active in the fandom, but I was vaguely aware of some reactions, meaning some stuff I'd seen posted on Twitter. IDK how different the reactions were on Tumblr, but I can say that on Twitter at least, there actually were fans who felt anxious about Bosko and feared she was possibly introduced as a Love Interest for Eddie. After all, she mostly interacted with him out of the whole team. These fans very much disliked the character, while some disliked the actress... (if anyone else wants to weigh in on this with fan reactions from Tumblr, please do!)

I think at the end of the day, whenever someone is introduced and seems to connect with one character specifically (rather than with the cast at large), and the fandom already ships that character with someone else, there will be some who will think it's a potential LI and will then dislike the newcomer. It has nothing to do with gender or sexual orientation (which is an accusation that is sometimes brought up), I have seen people disliking a male gay newcomer when he threatened the popular mlm ship just as soon as I've seen people disliking a female straight newcomer.

Whenever fandom doesn't think a newcomer is brought in to be an LI that comes in between a beloved ship, it actually is open and even very welcome to the idea of this newcomer as a friend. Just look at Ravi, for example! When he came in, he became a (weirded out) friend to the 118 as a whole, he wasn't specifically attached to either Buck or Eddie (not until 505, at least, which is about a season after he was introduced in 406, and even then, that only lasted for one ep), so fandom warmly embraced him. Some might ship him with Buck (or Eddie, IDK) but even those who do, they probably do it as a headcanon, they don't think Ravi will canonically become Buck's LI on the show.

Now to add to that, when Taylor was brought back in 408 to be Buck's LI, she also came back with baggage from s2, which is something most newcomers that are possible LIs don't have. Tons of fans did not like what she did to Bobby in 206 and have not really forgiven her for that. Nor was she ever given a proper redemption for it (911 was in a hurry to use her in 208 as a contrast to Ali, so it wasn't interested in Taylor seeking Bobby's forgiveness, and by the time they brought her back in s4, I guess they felt like touching upon that would be opening a can of worms they weren't interested in, so they just glossed over it).

Lastly, I also think it matters how the fans are treated by the show in the course of introducing a newcomer/possible LI. When Ana was introduced in 312, I remember so many people were raging over how stupid the scene was, with its forced attempt to create an "it's fate!" vibe. When the viewers’ intelligence isn’t respected then yeah, that can induce rage as a reaction! I think Lena didn't have that when she was introduced to the audience, and Taylor kinda did ("let the universe come to you," and also just the whole thing where the show acts like Taylor’s actions in s2 didn’t happen, but it’s also blurry enough that I think it really depends on the viewer whereas with Ana, the show resorting to cliches was much more obvious).

IDK if this summarized analysis helps, Nonnie, but I really hope so! Thank you again for your kindness, sorry for the length and please have a look at my ask tag if you're looking for another ask reply. xoxox

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keerishima · 4 years ago

Note

HELLO! I saw you were a new blog that needed requests and I was wondering if you could write head-canons for todoroki, bakugou, and kiri (separately) with a s/o that has a witchcraft quirk? TY

well hi! thank you for the request, it was so cool to write! now i’m assuming you mean like a quirk that works like potions and herbs/crystals and spirit summoning and spells which is the road i’m taking i hope that’s okay?

now this boy is

excited

when he first saw the mist swirling around your fingers as you fought the robots in the UA exam, a shock went through his body

what was that?

okay he didn’t mean to stare- considering he was in the middle of an exam- but the way you moved and the glints of a crystals around your body was just so cool

time passed and he got closer to you, during the dorm competition your room was the only room he wanted to see and boy did he love it

the green ivy and plants in your room, the pots and white smoke curling from diffusers and shelves full of powder and inks organised in a neat row

your room felt like a whole new world- like magic

literally after everyone had left he was still in your room looking around like a meerkat assessing it’s surroundings

fast forward; you guys are dating and he was VERY curious as to how your quirk worked, and you explained how your spells and energy came from the crystals and jewels

each crystal gave you a different energy, which converted to your power!

kirishima literally watched in awe as you pointed at all the different coloured gems and jewels and the symbols on your walls

he even asked to touch some of them and asked where you got them

he also asked to see them in battle, and asked if you had any similar to his own quirk!

the both of you engaged in LOTS of different mock battles, which almost always ended up in a play fight rather than real training- just because he ends up enjoying watching you use your quirk too much to actually focus

once you two had engaged in a long, breathless make out session against one of the walls- what can I say? you wanted to see what it felt like to kiss kirishima in his red riot form and have him melt back to normal under your touch

yeahh...it was a bad idea to do that in the school gym, where half of class 1-B caught you two mushed together against a wall

back to the hc!

he asks SO many questions

sometimes just sits on your bed for ages and asks one after the other after the other, to the point where aizawa has to come and send him back to his side of the dorm

let me tell you now: if you are 1) planning to get anything or 2) NEED anything, don’t let him find out

you once let it slip that you were considering getting pouches to carry these crystals, and the sweet, sweet boy went out and bought BUCKETS of bags

yes buckets because he didn’t know if your crystals would be affected by material or size of the bag or- god forbid what if it did and he ruined your quirk in battle?!

he’d never forgive himself.

ever.

like literally he’d be on his knees ready for punishment of how you saw fit because of his mistake

what can i say? the boys dramatic

but its endearing :,)

it ended up being the cutest date of you cuddled up on his bed wrapped in his blankets like you were drowning in them,

whilst he sat on the floor, presenting each little bag and pouch to you, all teleshopping style.

‘and THIS 🤩 gorgeous article comes with not just 1😱! not just 2 😱! but THREE 🤯🥵🥳🥳 buttons to clip close to ensure a tight, secure hold of your 😏 special package’

yeah he made a sleazy face

yeah you threw a plushy at him

all of them were bought with your costume in mind and how could you not keep some of the bags? with kirishima watching you with the biggest eyes and slightly-pouting-lips-but-he-would-never-admit-it there was no way you didn’t keep the most useful ones

you asked him to return the extra bags so he wouldn’t have wasted his money, whilst you repaid his kindness with lots and lots of kisses and cuddles

;) or more depending on how you want it

todoroki is uhh...

emotionally constipated

but thats not his fault

#fuckendeavour

sometimes it comes off that he’s not interested in your quirk in a general sense, but it’s only because he doesn’t know how to ask without seeming pushy

he gets shy (but doesn’t show it) but with time that decreases to a sort of dry affection

i’m not saying he’s a dry boyfriend but he definitely isn't as spritely as someone like Denki might be

the way you’d see that he wanted to know more was if he asked you to come and fight with him, train with him and study

this is where he asked about your quirk

he didn’t ask to the extent of kirishima, who said everything that came to mind, he asked precise questions that gave him all the information he was desperate to know because you are so cool it makes his heart burn needed

and he also knew you would add more information as you explained, which he loved because he loved hearing you talk so passionately

this time your quirk allowed you to control people to an extent, depending on different plants and herbs you used

the plants each had a special line, muttered as you dropped the herbs anywhere on your opponent for it to activate

best believe todoroki asked for one to knock endeavour out, literally out of nowhere💀

once, one night you had been laying on your bed, and todoroki had popped over to see you. it was still quite early on in your relationship so you weren’t expecting him to cuddle up beside you and tuck into your smaller body, chin hooked onto your shoulder whilst his eyes bore into yours from below todoroki loves eye contact

‘Do your plants have meanings?’

that’s it, that’s all he softly whispered in your ear

‘What do you mean?’ You whispered back

‘Like...like roses mean love...do your herbs have a meaning linked to what they do?’

okay now he was blushing, very gently because he didn’t want to annoy you, or ask you a question you’d never thought of and make you feel silly or insecure about his quirk

YOU on the other hand were smothering a dopey grin. you knew your boyfriend and his boundaries, and you knew that him asking you in such an intimate setting meant he was trying hard for you

you also knew that he’d just given you free reign to ramble however you saw fit

so you explained, how each herb did this, how if you mixed them they did that, if you made a liquid infused with them it helped with your application in battle and so much more

todoroki listened silently, but his eyes were gleaming

literally glowing in the darkness- I mean was that even possible? it had to have been considering how todoroki looked at you that night

after you were done, he replied with a similar thing about his own quirk, and both of you had a long long chat that went from quirks, to schooling, to life, to aliens and more

todoroki had the weirdest humour, he never knew he was being funny until your quiet giggles morphed into full blown laughter- and caused a knock from the next room over because you were being too loud

he would let out his own little chuckles and smirks, seeing you enjoy his company so much

it was a while after that day when something new happened

you’d sent him a message, whilst he was sitting right next to you, and your contact name flashed on his screen suddenly, catching your eye

‘my calendula’

you looked at todoroki

todoroki looked at you

you both blinked

‘calendula?’ you asked

‘yes’ todoroki replied

‘why calendula?’

‘because,’ todoroki blushed deeply, eyes flickering away from yours

‘because you said calendula means joy...you’re my joy. arent you?’

and god help anyone who tries to say you aren’t todoroki’s joy

because you would literally throw them to the ground

your heart soared at how todoroki loved you and your quirk so much

even though it wasn’t blatantly obvious, it was the little things he did for you 😍

he originally going to call you his basil until Bakugou came round behind him asking him if he was writing the dorms grocery list. safe to say that plan was aborted immediately :D

oho

sorry I just

*pfft*

bakugo amuses me, he really does he’s so entertaining

okay sorry back to the headcanon

I headcanon you’re REALLY strong

like STUPID strong

Remember bakugos reactions to all the students quirks and he was like ‘shit I cant beat them 😨’

And his reaction to todoroki? yeah he’d literally see you use your quirk and just

no I’m joking

but I feel like as your s/o he’d be super obsessed with your quirk

he’d always want to train with you, he’d see it as an amazing part of you that he wants to help hone so you can be the best of the best

not better than him obviously but the best anyway

not that he’d SHOW all of this awe and pride to you, it’s normally delivered in a bunch of bakugo sentences:

‘oi your form is shit. do this instead.’

that means he’s realised a new way you can throw this punch, with much more force

‘tch, go train. you need the training.’

he wants to train with you. again.

‘....finally. took you long enough to learn that.’

you’ve just done something successfully and he’s trying so hard not to blush at how well you did it.

here your power is more destructive

you can create sigils using a your finger in the air and they create attack power

this with bakugos quirk makes a formidable duo, and if he doesn’t get partnered with you he will most likely throw a fit

but not a long fit more of a like ‘oi why is she over there we work better together’

but he realises as heroes you need to work well with anyone you meet, so he’s not too fussy

because of the fact that you draw the sigils, you have a habit of tracing out patterns and new symbols and any sort of designs subconsciously

this is done normally on any part of your skin, with a pen

bakugo being old man bakugo 🙄 got mad at you

he told you off for almost giving yourself ink poisoning and ruining your hand and making it all dirty drama queen

but throughout all of this bakugo had been clutching your hand, and best believe he wasn’t letting go

he used the hand he was holding to pull you along and sit comfortably, dropping his own palm into your lap and mumbling something that kind of, sort of, might have been along the lines of ‘use my arm dumbass’

now you had bakugos arm to scribble on to your hearts content.

you used this when you were stressed, worried that your nerves were causing you to forget things or simply because you wanted to hold bakugo close

in fact, bakugo himself had adopted this habit, and you’ll notice I said arm instead of hand

bakugo got nervous around you, and therefore sweaty, which therefore lead to tiny little explosions in his palms when you were near

but this habit had started to make him feel comfortable with his hands around you, it made him trust himself more

he knew his power was strong and he didn’t want to hurt you, your quirk was something that helped him with that

and he wouldn’t tell you that but he was grateful. VERY grateful

he once asked why you used pen, and not your finger on your skin considering the pen ink is toxic

you answered very quickly, by pulling out a sheet of people and sliding your finger across the surface in a sigil shape

promptly the paper burnt into a cinder :)

and bakugo never asked again

and that is the end! I hope you liked it and I did the idea of Witchcraft justice 😅 please do send some more requests!

god I loved this so much they’re all so cute :,) thank you for this request!!

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laedback-taurus · 4 years ago

Text

My Boys – Finale

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Mother!Reader Warnings: none Word Count: 2394 A/n: Maybe slight spoilers for ep 6. Continuation of “My Boys” part 1 and 2. S/n = Son's Name Part 1 / Part 2

You and Bucky decided you were going advantage of the small amount of quiet time you had before he had to go and do what he does best, save people. The three of you had left Sam’s and made your way back to Bucky’s apartment, your son had insisted that you move Bucky in as soon as you got back, so that’s what you planned on doing. Bucky didn’t have a lot of stuff, so it wasn’t going to be a long process. Once your car was full to the brim with Bucky’s belongings, you set off for your place, unlike Bucky, you owned a small house just out of the busy city. Bucky had been there a few times, but he had never stayed, you just hoped he’d like it there. You had to admit that it felt weird moving Bucky in, you had bought the house with your ex-fiancé with the intention of raising a family and growing old in it, but some things just don’t work out that way.

You watched from your kitchen window as Bucky grabbed the last of his things out of the car after telling you to stay put and insisting on getting it himself. He walked up your driveway, spotting you in the window and sending you a sweet smile. He placed his things in the spare room where you had put the rest of his stuff, just until you could sort through it and find homes for everything. You saw him leave through the back door and walk out onto your deck, watching s/n run around the back yard. You soon followed, appearing behind him and wrapping you arms around his waist from behind, stood slightly up on your toes and rested you chin on his shoulder.

“Welcome home Bucky” You whispered, making him smile. You turned your head slightly to get a look at his face, his eyes were glassy and brimming with tears.

“Bucky! Come and chase me!” You son called out from the yard where he was happily bouncing on his trampoline.

“You’ll regret this little mam” Bucky replied making his way down the stairs of the deck, as soon as he hit the grass he took off in s/n direction, your son squealed in excitement and quickly jumped off the trampoline, running away from Bucky. His little legs didn’t get him very far before Bucky scooped him up and spun him around.

“Gotcha!” Bucky yelled. All you could hear was the ecstatic laugher of your son as you watched your boys run around the yard.

---

You were sitting up in bed, just looking aimlessly through your phone while waiting for Bucky to come to bed. S/n had once again insisted that Bucky tuck him in and read him a story, you desperately wanted to listen to Bucky read a story but apparently it was “boys only”. Right on cue Bucky appeared in the doorway, he had the most adorable smile on his face. You could tell that he loved your son to pieces and s/n loved him so much that he wanted to call him Dad, which you and Bucky hadn’t talked about since you told him at Sam’s. Bucky pulled off his shirt and threw it on the floor before crawling into bed next to you, you could sense that he was slightly anxious by how he laid quite far away from you. You put your phone down on the bedside table and shimmied down the bed till you were laying on your back before turning the face Bucky.

“Are you okay?” You asked softly.

“Yeah, it’s just been a big day and with everything else going on right now it just a lot at once” He admitted.

“Should we have waited?” You queried, at this he moved closer to you, laying on his side to face you.

“No, after all this is done…I want to come home to you two. Coming home after the fight with John and finding the two of you there just felt so right…I don’t want to go home to an empty apartment when I could come home to…” You noticed him hesitate slightly. “My family” you wanted to burst into tears, Bucky saw you as his family, something he hadn’t had in a long time, out of everyone, he chose you. You closed the distance between you, catching his lips in a sweet kiss. His right hand found its home on your hip, pulling you flush against his bare chest. The kiss started out sweet and loving but soon turned into passionate and full of lust. Bucky had been without you for way too long, he was used to you being there every night he needed but when he had to leave he lost that for a while and didn’t like it one bit. You lifted your leg slightly and draped it over hip, pulling his waist closer to yours and that was it for him, he quickly and effortlessly flipped you over, pinning you underneath him.

“Let’s make the most of tonight yeah?” He whispered, his voice husky. His eyes were dark and full of lust which made your legs go weak.

All you could do was nod.

---

You woke up fairly early in the morning due to some rustling around your room. You opened your eyes and looked around to find the source of the sound that had rudely awoken you. You soon laid eyes on Bucky who was suiting up, you sat up in your bed and admired him as he dressed, he looked over his shoulder and smirked when he found you checking him out.

“Good morning Doll” He greeted as he was doing up his belt.

“Good morning handsome” You returned, swinging your legs over his side of the bed, you spotted his shirt from the night before and slipped it on.

“Sorry I’m leaving so soon, Sam called. I honestly thought we’d have more time” you could sense the disappointment in his voice. He walked over to meet you at the foot of your bed. Your hands made their way up to his hair, styling away the events of the night before.

“It’s okay Bucky, we’ll be here when you come home and then we’ll have all the time in the world” You finished working on his hair and let your hand fall to rest on his shoulders “just please say goodbye to S/n”.

“Of course,” He planted a sweet kiss on your lips before leaving to go to your son’s room. You sighed and wrapped your arms around yourself, worrying for the safety of you lover. You left your room and walked a little way down the hall to your sons’ room, his door was now open, and you could see Bucky kneeing in front on his bed, s/n now sitting up in it.

“I have to go Buddy, I’m sorry that I have to leave so soon” He explained. S/n just gave him a sweet smile.

“It’s okay Buck, you have to go save the world, it’s what you and Sam do” your son said as if it was the most normal job in the world.

“while I do that, I need you to do a very important job for me” Bucky looked at him sternly.

“What’s that?” your son asked, excited at the fact that he could help Bucky.

“I need you to look after your mum for me, okay?” this made you smile.

“Of course! I’ll make sure she’s safe until you come home” s/n declared.

“I wouldn’t trust anyone else” Bucky leant forward and placed a sweet kiss to your son’s forehead, making your heart skip a beat at the interaction. “I’ll see you later buddy” Bucky ruffled his hair and got up leave, spotting you in the doorway. He smiled at you and you both made your way to the front door.

“please be safe” you whispered to him when you reached the door.

“I will be Doll; I’ve got a reason to be”.

“I love you” was all you could say.

“I love you too” He gave you one last sweet kiss before disappearing through the door.

---

It had been a little while since you had heard from Bucky, the last you were told was that they had won, and Sam had finally taken up the Captain America mantel. You thought that’s when he’d say that he was coming home but he didn’t, he told you that he still had something to take care of, but he’d be home as soon as he could.

You were currently sat in your spare room; you had been organising some of Bucky’s things around the place to surprise him when he came back but you had stumbled across some old photos of him back in the 40’s. There was a heap of him and Steve, him in uniform, him and a few girls that you assumed were some of these flings he told you of, it still made you a little bit jealous regardless. You imagined what it would have been like being with him back then, going on dates with him, dancing with him and just knowing him. You were about to move on the other box when you heard the front door open, you quickly placed the photos back in the box and shot out of the room. Bucky spotted you pop your head out of the spare room and chuckled at your excited expression. You ran to him and he opened his arms to catch you. You wrapped your arms around his waist and gave him a squeeze.

“I told Yori” He whispered out of nowhere. You could tell he needed to get it off his chest.

“How did it go?” you were afraid to ask.

“he was upset, which I expected but he didn’t yell or get angry with me, he just asked me why. I saw him at the bar later, it hurts knowing that I lost a friend, but I gave that friend closure” you could hear the sorrow in his voice. “I also finished the book, sent it to Doc seeing as I don’t need it anymore”

“You’ve come so far Bucky, I’m so proud of you” Bucky wanted to cry at that statement, his girl was proud of him, his amazing girl that actually loved him, his girl that never gave up on him.

“Buck!” suddenly S/n ran into room and jumped on Bucky’s back.

“Hey buddy, did you do what I asked?” Bucky queried after S/n jumped off him.

“Yes! I protected mum just like you asked me to” Your son looked so proud of himself in that moment.

“I knew I could count on you” Bucky ruffled his hair. “I can’t get too settled in yet and you two have to pack a bag…and maybe cook something” he scratched the back of his head “I’m not sure how these things work”.

“Wait, what? Why do we need to pack? what are we doing?” you asked shocked at his sudden ramble.

“Sam invited us to a cookout…whatever that is” Bucky explained.

“Right, well we better get packed and we’re buying a cake on the way seeing as you gave me absolutely no notice” You pointed at Bucky.

“You heard your mum, lets go!” Bucky picked up your boy and took off down the hall. You shook your head and giggled.

---

When you arrived at Sam’s, Bucky and S/n immediately went to Sarah’s boys, Bucky pretending the let them get a few hits in before threatening them with the cake.

“I’m so glad you made it” Sarah appeared next you, a warm smile on her face.

“We wouldn’t want to miss it, besides Bucky wouldn’t let us” You chuckled watching your boy run around with Sarah’s.

“How are you and Bucky after your confession?” Sarah asked.

“Really good, he moved in and so far, everything is working out great, S/n loves having him there” You smiled.

“Have you ever thought about expanding your little family?” The thought alone made you blush.

“it’s definitely not something Bucky and I have spoken about yet and I reckon its off the table for a little while but…” You locked eyes with Bucky as he spoke to Sam “I wouldn’t mind it”.

You spoke with Sarah for a little bit longer before it was finally time to eat. You sat to the left Bucky, leaning you head on his metal shoulder after everyone had finished, his hand was resting on your thigh as he spoke to some men across the table.

You had found him again after the meal, leaning against the railing of the dock, you stood next to him, looking out at the water. His noticed your arrival and wrapped his right arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. You both just stood there in silence, enjoying each other’s company, you could tell that a huge weight had been lifted off Bucky’s shoulders, after today you were really starting to see the man that you saw in those pictures earlier. Bucky knew he was better, he knew that without Sam’s help he’d still be going about it the wrong way, but he also knew that there’s no way he would be here without you, your love and support was exactly what he needed to find himself again.

He placed a soft kiss on your cheek.

“Thank you, Doll”.

“for wha-“ you were cut off.

“Mum! Dad! Come here” Your son called out. Your heart skipped a beat at hearing your boy call Bucky dad, you still hadn’t spoken about it but apparently your boy couldn’t wait. You really didn’t know what Bucky’s reaction was going to be, becoming a dad, especially to a child that isn’t biologically yours is surely a scary thing. He could leave you over this. You got up the courage to look up at him, fearing the reaction you’d see but as soon as you cast your eyes on him, all you doubts melted away. Bucky was looking in the direction of your boy with glassy eyes and the biggest smile you had ever seen, his eyes held so much love and pride that it made you want to cry. He looked down at you with the same look in his eyes.

“Our boy is waiting for us”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine #bucky fic #marvel #avengers x reader #avengers

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wondernimbus · 4 years ago

Text

excuses pt. 2 — fred weasley

pairing: fred weasley x female!reader

a/n: basically “excuses” but from fred’s point of view! literally no one asked for this but i just felt like writing it so bon appetit

requests are closed for now. please refrain from plagiarizing my work!

There were three things that Fred Weasley had been expecting when he woke up this morning: a flunked Potions quiz, Oliver Wood's wrath (given that Fred skipped Quidditch practice the day before), and a forbidden trip to Hogsmeade with George at midnight.

What Fred had not been expecting is for a certain someone to rush up to him in the middle of the hallway right after Potions class (and he was right—he did flunk that quiz), grip onto his shoulders, and press a kiss to his cheek.

Now, Fred is not easily surprised. He's always the one to do the surprising, usually in the form of masterfully executed pranks and ridiculously witty remarks. But the word "surprised" seems like a poor fit for what he feels right now, because he is—for lack of better word—stunned. Gobsmacked. Flabbergasted. Is he in a fever dream?

The kiss lasts a mere half-second; before Fred can even begin to wrap his head around what the bloody hell just happened, [Y/N] is already pulling away from him and rambling on about being dared and blackmailed and perverts and definitely not liking him. (That last part kind of hurt, but that's hardly what's on Fred's mind right now.)

Fred blinks and wonders if the warmth spreading across his cheeks shows.

[Y/N] has stopped talking and is staring up at him, a blush of her own coating her face—and it's so ridiculously obvious how flustered she's gotten that Fred can't help but start laughing both out of fondness and to ease the bewilderment he feels as he tries to wrap his head around the past few seconds' events.

Which is that [Y/N]—a friend of his and George's for quite some time now who has an immaculate sense of humor, is secretly a pranking genius, and also happens to be one of the prettiest girls Fred has seen around Hogwarts—has just kissed him on the cheek, and is claiming to have been blackmailed into doing it.

"I'm sorry, [Y/N/N]," Fred begins, eyebrows raised. "But that's a very poor excuse." Which, in Fred's head, translates to: I hope that's an excuse because if it isn't, then I'm going to have to live with the fact that a pretty girl had to be blackmailed into kissing me.

She gapes at him for a moment, and then sputters out an indignant "no", after which she proceeds to open and close her mouth like a fish blown out of water as though grasping for words that won't come to her. The grin on Fred's face grows; at least he knows he's not the only one flustered around here, and, to be perfectly honest, he's dealing with it a lot better.

Funny. He's the one who got kissed on the cheek—shouldn't he be more worked up?

The fondness in his chest only swells when [Y/N] huffs and purses her lips, eyes skittering away from his as she mutters something inaudible under her breath.

It's not like Fred likes her. Sure, he talks a lot louder and acts rowdier around her just to grab her attention. And okay, he claims he needs help with a prank just to have an excuse to talk to her. Maybe he always remembers to bring her food from the kitchens just to see the bright grin on her face when he hands her a strawberry cupcake. And sure, he got jealous that one time he saw Roger Davies blatantly trying to flirt with her—

Okay, sure. Maybe Fred does like [Y/N].

And maybe his feelings are a tad bit hurt when [Y/N] tells him, cheeks still flushed a bright red, "No, listen to me, Fred, I was literally blackmailed. Now excuse me while I cleanse my lips ferociously."

Fred already has a witty remark resting on the tip of his tongue to mask his hurt feelings. But before it even gets past his lips, [Y/N] is already dashing off. Before he knows it, she has already turned the corner and disappeared.

And all the while, Fred stands there outside of the Potions classroom, staring after her.

"Well, wasn't that an interesting thing to witness." George makes his presence known for the first time since [Y/N] came up to him. He claps Fred on the shoulder, and Fred doesn't even have to look at him to know that he's grinning. "Don't faint on me now, Freddy. We've still got Charms class to go to."

Being kissed by a pretty girl, it turns out, does wonders for one's ego, because Fred feels ridiculously full of himself for the rest of the day.

He has two classes with [Y/N]: Care of Magical Creatures and Divination class, both of which are set at the end of the day just before dinner. And for some weird, totally unknown reason, Fred is on the edge of his seat.

He hasn't seen her around since she'd kissed him a few hours ago, so he practically dashes to his Care of Magical Creatures class with George lagging behind him in anticipation to see her.

Except, when he arrives at the grounds, she is nowhere to be seen.

"Maybe she's late?" suggests George, and then, with a mischievous grin on his face, he nudges Fred and says, "D'you think she's still busy cleansing your germs off her lips?"

"Sod off," Fred grumbles, his previous excitement now quickly waning.

George snorts. The other sixth years are milling around the grass in wait for Hagrid, completely oblivious to the dejected Fred Weasley surveying the class in search for a certain someone. "Only joking," says George, his tone impish. "She's probably just off somewhere regretting her life choices—"

Fred tries to smack his twin upside the head, but years of growing up next to one another and thus knowing each other's every move seem to have paid off for George, because he manages to dodge Fred almost effortlessly.

"Blimey, can't take a joke, can you?" he grins, the look on his face making it clear that he finds teasing Fred greatly enjoyable. And then, in a more serious tone, "Don't get your panties in a bunch just yet. She'll show up for Transfiguration."

Except she doesn't, and Fred starts to wonder if he'd done something terribly wrong. Perhaps he'd reacted the wrong way; maybe he shouldn't have acted so full of himself when she'd kissed him. Did he? Or should he have kissed her back? No, definitely not—that would've been weird. Would it? Had she really been blackmailed? To what extent? Should he be somewhere tracking down her blackmailer and avenging her?

As a result, Fred is absolutely out of it during Transfiguration class.

The moment he stepped foot through McGonagall's classroom and realized that [Y/N] wasn't there, he'd fallen quiet and hadn't uttered a word. He has failed to acknowledge George's constant nudges and has been staring at absolutely nothing for the entire duration of the class.

He stays like this even after the period ends, as well as on their way to the Great Hall for dinner. When Ron trips over literal air in the hallway and Fred miraculously doesn't make some sort of funny remark, George stops in his tracks. Looking genuinely concerned, he grabs his twins by the shoulders and asks, completely serious, "What did you nickname your dangly-bits when you were eight?"

Fred's eyes grow wide; it's the first genuine, non-lifeless reaction he has shown since an hour ago. "What the—"

"I'm only asking you once," says George, deadpan. "If you answer this wrong, I'm going to have to assume you're not Fred and you've been replaced by some sort of imposter, because the real Fred would have made Ron cry over tripping—"

"Have you gone mad—"

"What did you name your dangly-bits?"

Still in disbelief, Fred sputters out, "Champ."

George blinks, then drops his hands back to his sides. He wrinkles his nose. "I suppose you are still yourself. What's gotten into you, mate? Last time I can recall you acting like this was.." he pauses, brows pulling together at the middle in thought, "Actually, never."

"I'm growing up, Georgey," Fred nods earnestly, and his tone is joking but the slump of his shoulders says otherwise. Tapping his temple with a finger as though to stress his point, Fred keeps walking, George keeping pace next to him. "I'm starting to look at the world in a different light. Can't joke around forever, you see."

George full-on snorts. "Rubbish. If I hadn't known any better, I would've thought you were still thinking about [Y/N]."

Fred doesn't reply. There's a ten-second silence, the first few of which George laughs a little as though the idea is ridiculous, but then his eyes land on Fred's sullen expression.

"Oh," says George, once more stopping in his tracks. Fred ignores him and keeps walking—if they keep stopping every few steps, they're never going to get to the Great Hall (where Fred is maybe, maybe hoping to see [Y/N]).

Already a few feet away, Fred hears George shout after him, "You like her, don't you?"

Does Fred like an unimaginably pretty girl with the loveliest laugh he has ever heard and cheeks that flush the brightest shade of pink whenever she gets flustered? Does he like a girl with a smile that could light up the entire castle? Does he like the girl he could talk to for hours and hours and never get tired of?

Without as much as turning around to look at his twin, Fred, whilst walking, says loudly, "So what?"

Fred is now much too far away from his twin, but he thinks he might have heard George yell something along the lines of "I should've bloody known!"

—

Fred doesn't see her at dinner. Upon returning to the Gryffindor tower, he finds that the common room is also completely [Y/N]-free. He does spot Ginny, who he immediately approaches.

"Hello, sister," says Fred smoothly, detaching her from her group of friends to pull her into a corner. Not bothering to beat around the bush, he asks, "By any chance, have you seen [Y/N] around anywhere?"

Ginny stares at her older brother, wearing an impish smile that Fred knows all too well. There's a familiar hint of mischief glinting in her eyes that Fred has seen far too many times in the mirror. "I suppose you want to repay her for what she gave you earlier?" says Ginny, lips curling up into a grin.

Fred raises his eyebrows. "And what might that be?"

"A kiss," sings Ginny, giggling. "Are you about to confess to her? Are you planning to drag her out to the balcony and kiss her under the light of a thousand st—"

Fred is already turning on his heel and walking away before Ginny can even finish her sentence.

—

When Fred Weasley woke up that morning all those hours ago, the last thing he'd been expecting was to end the day thinking of the feeling of [Y/N]'s lips on his cheek and what it would feel like if the tables were turned and he kissed her.

Fred has long since realized that no amount of tossing and turning will allow him to fall asleep. So now he lays awake in his four-poster bed, listening to the sound of rain pattering against the window but not really registering it; his brain is much too busy mulling over things of far greater importance.

Well, thing: [Y/N].

Without really knowing whether or not his twin is awake or not, Fred tests the waters and says aloud, "George?"

"I say ask her out," George's voice replies without missing a beat, like he'd been waiting for Fred to ask all this time. "Tomorrow at breakfast. She fancies you, Freddy. That blackmail excuse was codswallop."

Fred swallows, eyes fixed on the dark stretch of ceiling. "What if it wasn't?"

"I bet twenty galleons it was absolute rubbish. She needed an excuse to kiss you."

"You don't have twenty galleons."

"Okay, I bet my nine galleons it was rubbish. Happy?"

Nine galleons. That and Fred's feelings—is he willing to risk that and ask her out, like George is suggesting?

"I don't want to jump to conclusions," groans Fred, rolling over and stuffing his face into his pillow. "Have you seen her, Georgey? She's.."

"She's a bit of a looker, yes."

At this, Fred scowls.

"Are you scowling at me? I can feel it."

A pillow is thrown from Fred's bed, but it is much too dark and Fred's aim is very much off; the pillow lands somewhere at the foot of George's bed, nowhere close to its intended target. "Ha, you missed," George chirps. "Just like you'll miss [Y/N] when some other bloke gets to her before you do because you're too much of a wimp to ask her o—"

Another pillow, this time hitting George full-on in the face. "Ow!"

Despite the heavy feeling of worry resting on his chest, Fred is unable to help himself from smiling smugly in triumph. "Slipped, sorry."

George throws the pillow back but misses; it lands somewhere on the floor, not even near Fred's bed. "Whatever," Fred hears him grumble. And then, tone brightening once more, "You will ask her out tomorrow, won't you?"

At this, Fred falls silent.

"Come on, Freddy. Mum didn't raise you to be a wimp."

"Easier said than done," sighs Fred, voice muffled due to how he has stuffed his face into the one pillow left on his bed. "Will you be a good twin and cheer me up when she rejects me?"

"No promises." And despite it being dark, Fred knows fully well that George is grinning. "But I can promise to be the best man at your wedding. Free of charge."

A wedding. Ha. He can’t even look at her without feeling all flustered. “We’ll see how it goes,” says Fred, exhaling heavily.

#harry potter #harry potter oneshots #harry potter oneshot #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #hp oneshot #hp imagines #hp oneshots #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley oneshot #fred weasley oneshots #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fanfic

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actual-fucking-clown · 3 years ago

Note

I just heard that you're doing requests!!! I already love your content and fully agree that Natsuo Todoroki is King~!!! If I may bother to ask a request? Just all the hcs you want to write about Ice Man bc it's getting to June where I live, and I don't mind cooling down~

Tera, my beloved, I'm going to be honest I literally fucking screamed upon seeing this request!!! I’ve been reading your fics before I even had like an acc here, so we vibin :) Also after the day I’ve had I need some fucking Ice man in my life n hopefully doing this will help me write my way out of the writers block that has been plaguing me for months!!!!

Future Blue here to say I had up to like all done last night and then my internet ate shit and I lost everything after 5. smfh. Woulda been done last night but the loss of my writing got me fucked up lolololololol. N e way

Warnings: cursing obvi, uh like nsfw for a hc or 2, my unorganized hcs that really follow no succinct line of thought and might not even be actual hcs???????

So Natsuo,

There is not a thing I wouldn’t do for this man, bc honestly after all the shit he’s put up with he deserves the world and then some. But I digress.

1. I think he’s a hesitant but attentive boyf. Like he seems like a genuinely friendly dude but I think it’d take him a while to properly warm up to someone enough to date them. And even then I think he might struggle to open up to his partner about anything like, emotionally. Not to say he’s entirely emotionally closed off or anything but somethings are just harder to trust people with. The main thing being his familial issues. And of course that’s were most of this stems from.

Now for the attentive part. His family dynamic has set a precedent on what not to do in a relationship so he’s always hyper aware of the things he or his s/o does, trying his best to avoid making any of the mistakes his parents made. Of course if he finds the right person he’ll be surprised to find that having a non-toxic relationship can be less stressful than he thought. It’s like a huge weight was just lifted from his shoulders.

2. He’s fucking hella romantic. Like he’s shitty romance movie romantic. He’s out here trying his best n woof. Gimme gimme. On date nights he pulls out all the stops. Sometimes it’s a nice classic dinner date at a pretty nice restaurant downtown, or it’s a picnic in the park at noon, or it’s stargazing from the roof of his or his s/o’s dorm/apartment/house, or driving out to a beach just for a long walk at sunset, or road trips to nowhere in particular. I could go on, I really could but you get the gist.

3. He’s got shitty pickup lines for days. Whenever I say shitty I mean like “god I hate it but at the same time I love it” kinda shitty. But yeah he likes to see his s/o’s reaction to his stupid pickup lines, whether they get flustered, or die laughing, or groan and make a snide remark, he’s here for it. Shoot one back at him and he get’s so absolutely red. Mans wasn’t ready. Mans will never be ready.

4. This just came to me but let’s be honest a lot of us here, myself included, have some sort of fucking daddy kink and like, I get it obvi but in this situation never call this man daddy. I feel like for him that is an instant turn off. I’m sorry to everyone I’m letting down but sometimes daddy issues don’t lead to a daddy kink.

5. But on the topic of kinks I think this man is pretty vanilla, he doesn’t scream “freak” to me, you know? Just normal amazing sex. Oh but he does enjoy hella praise both receiving and giving.

6. Hopping off that train of thought and onto another I think he kinda tries to keep his s/o as far away from his family as possible. He doesn’t hate them (when I say them you know i mean everyone except Enji bc he avoids that man like the plague and like keeping his s/o far far far away from that man was a given), no he just likes to have something so utterly untouched by his family issues. Mans needs a breath of fresh air.

-These next 2 I think will veer off from being hcs a bit and just like shit that I like to think about in general. Does that make sense? Who knows lololol. N e way. I like to think a lot about two aspects of this man, well 1 aspect of the man himself and one....dynamic? It’ll make sense in a few so just hear me out.

7. Ok so like I saw this post somewhere eons and eons ago. It was long before current manga events, maybe around the time we’d just gotten Natsuo in the manga. My memory of this post is hazy at best so bear with me as I stumble over my thoughts. Obvi at this point in time we had little to nothing on this beautiful, beautiful man, so people were left to theorize. So this one post, was really that shitty meme where it’s like “small brain if you think such n such, bigger brain if this, n galaxy brain if this, etc., etc.” Where in essence it was like, “He probably has a weak ice quirk but what if some sort of ice based healing quirk or no quirk at all!” N i think about it a lot to this day. I don’t believe that either of those are true but I do think it is absolutely immaculate food for thought so uh do with that what you will.

8. I guess this is back on hc territory but Natsuo isn’t picky with who he dates, as long as you’re not an asshole he’s kinda set, good to go. Now most of the fics for him you’ll see are like “ay yo, you’re another college hoe or like you’re just a civilian” but like what would the dynamic be if he dated a hero?????? I don’t think he hates heroes but his father has definitely had an impact on his view of them. He’s not enamored with them like I guess the rest of the population is so what if hero s/o?????? Perhaps?????? Have I suddenly had a fic idea??????? I like the idea of Natsuo with a like super popular Pro hero s/o or with like a super lowkey underground hero idk this whole post has been me spitballing shit.

9. Back onto proper hcs, it’s a common one that mans runs cold and ugh pls yes. It is also June rn and while the past few days have been cool and sexy the weeks prior had been hellish and on top of that I despise summer so give me all of that. Mans is your personal ac, he’s not opposed to his s/o just spending a hellishly hot day laying on top of him as they watch garbage reality tv.

10. Can we talk love language? Physical touch. He just radiates that energy. Probably touch starved, obviously due to you know what. But yeah definitely a hard physical touch. (Which is actually my least favorite love language considering I’m quite ✨𝓣𝓸𝓾𝓬𝓱 𝓻𝓮𝓹𝓾𝓵𝓼𝓮𝓭 ✨but hey I’m not here to project I’m just here to tell you what I see n therefore think) He likes to be touching his s/o like 24/7. Out in public shopping or some shit? Holding hands, linked pinkies, arm around the shoulders or waist. At home? Sheesh be ready to be smothered bb.

TLDR: What a man 🥵

I think I’ve gotten most if not all of my thoughts about our beloved ice man out. I hope you enjoyed my nonsensical ramblings :)

Have a good morning/afternoon/night!!!!!

#natsuo x reader #natsuo todoroki x reader #natsuo todoroki #mha xreader #mha #bnha #bnha x reader #BNHA Headcanons #mha headcanons #asks #god i hope at least some of this made sense #thanks for the request I had a fucking ball writing all this shit #:)

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quixotin · 4 years ago

Text

@miraculous-bullshit ask and you shall receive! :D (sorry I tagged you again!) Note: reposted to not clog poor @toujoursmiraculous post :D

Interruptions

based on this thread

For what it’s worth, it took a lot to upset Luka Couffaine. He prided himself in that. He was never one to make a big deal out of things, unless absolutely necessary. Mild inconveniences like being flipped off for accidentally bumping someone in the metro, someone cutting him in a waiting line, entitled moms berating him at his job, being made fun of, not getting his way with something; these were all easily brushed off.

It’s not that he didn’t care, he just knew there were bigger things to worry about than an asshole being an asshole. He lived in Paris, after all. A city that big was bound to be ridden with them.

However, he had learned something about himself recently: His weak spot was Marinette. His skin positively crawled whenever anyone tried to harm, belittle, mock, or otherwise wrong her. There was a second element to this pet peeve of his; he had also discovered that he hated when someone interrupted them. It wasn’t jealousy or anything. It was more the fact that Marinette being the sheer tornado of creative power that she was, was always up to something. Finding a way to squeeze himself into her schedule was already a feat in itself, so he prized every minute he got to spend with her.

Needless to say, this was the precise reason why Luka was so excited for the weekend. He and Marinette were going to spend the entire Saturday afternoon together and the first order of business was going to the park and get ice cream.

The first offense happened at the hands of someone he otherwise respected.

Marinette and Luka had set up a blanket on a spot under a big, hefty tree. The ice cream was already gone, and Luka was playing a few new songs for Marinette. He had, rather evidently, sat a bit closer to her in the hopes that she might lean against him. Which she did, inadvertently causing for Luka’s heart to skip a beat or two. Now that’s an irony, a musician missing a beat.

Sensing Marinette resting her head against his arm, Luka put down the guitar and tentatively shifted to try and bring Marinette into his arms.

Then it happened.

Out of nowhere, a blur of a person crashed down through the foliage of the tree, falling right in the middle of the pair, and effectively dissolving the calm of the moment.

“Meowch! Heh, sorry!”

“Chat Noir?” Marinette exclaimed, uncharacteristically annoyed as Luka and her crawled from the pile of cat on top of them.

Chat Noir scrambled to his feet and gave them a sheepish smile. “Apologies er, fellow Parisians! Got stuck in the tree for a second there, hah.”

As Marinette grumbled, Luka simply shrugged, smiled coolly at him, and joked, “It happens. Maybe next time we’ll call the fire department to get the cat unstuck?”

Chat Noir blushed with a bit of embarrassment, largely due to the fact that Marinette actually laughed at the joke. Luka had no way of knowing this, of course, but Chat Noir had caught glimpse of him and Marinette as he vaulted through the city and had decided it would be a good idea to spy on them by perching on the tree they sat under, which only added to his shame.

“Yeah. So uh, yep. Sorry!” he babbled again, before scurrying out of the picture.

The second offense was at the hands of Paris’ resident terrorist. And Chat Noir. Again.

After getting their ice cream, Luka and Marinette walked around the city a bit and ended up at the steps of the Trocadero, where as luck would have it, an Akuma appeared.

As Luka and Marinette scrambled to get to safety, Chat Noir cut in to push them out of the way from one of the Akuma’s attacks.

It did not escape Luka that Chat Noir scooped Marinette up and vaulted away with her. He was glad Chat Noir was fulfilling his duties and that Marinette was now at least out of harm’s way, but really, was it so hard to escort them to the nearest shop to take shelter as he had done with literally every other person at the site of the attack?

A couple of minutes after he had disappeared with Marinette in tow, he came back for him.

“Your turn,” Chat Noir said with a wink, and took Luka away to an indistinct street away from the Akuma.

Luka gave Chat Noir a perplexed look. “Where is Marinette?”

Chat Noir scratched the back of his head. “I– she must have already hidden away,” he offered lamely.

Feeling a bit irked and suspicious that Chat Noir might have a crush on Marinette, he said, “I’ll look for her, then. Thanks for keeping my date safe, Chat Noir.”

As he calculated, he saw the discomfort in Chat’s face. “Yeah, no problem at all!”

Additionally, Luka quickly discovered he was right about something else: Chat Noir had very likely put Marinette somewhere else. Not only was he not able to find her anywhere, but she was not even picking up her phone anymore.

Luka worried that something might have happened to her, his contempt for the catboy growing by the second.

“That… that… that furry!” He grumbled to himself as he tried to figure out a way to contact Marinette, hoping to the heavens that she was okay.

After the Akuma was neutralized, Marinette called him. Yes, she ended up several districts away and apologized profusely about something she had absolutely no control of which both endeared and saddened Luka.

He had noticed Marinette tended to blame herself when things didn’t work out around her, even when she had no way of controlling them.

“Hey, hey, no stress,” Luka said chuckling, as he interrupted Marinette’s mortified rambling. “We can meet back in the movie theater.”

He let a sigh of relief as he spotted Marinette waiting for him by the ticket booth. He ran to her and threw his arms around her without thought, only realizing what he did when Marinette hugged him back.

He blushed and hugged her tighter.

“I’m got hit by the Akuma after Chat Noir took me away,” Marinette explained. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. I’m just happy you’re okay,” he said, finally pulling away and smiling at her. “So, which movie should we watch?”

Luka pointedly noticed the fact that Marinette suggested to watch a scary movie. The first time he had gone to the movies with her, Alya, Nino, and Juleka had tagged along and he remembered her adamantly informing everyone that she wouldn’t join if they picked anything scary.

He wondered why.

“Really? You sure?” Luka said.

“Yeah, you like scary movies, right?”

“Yeah, but you don’t,” Luka said. “I’m happy to watch anything you wanna watch.”

A light blush crept onto Marinette’s face again. “I wanna watch a scary movie.”

Luka tried not to entertain the thought that the reason why Marinette wanted to watch a scary movie with him was probably a plot with the end goal of having an excuse for them to hug throughout the movie. He didn’t want to get his expectations too high; he was already writing songs about her as it was.

As they took their seats, Marinette seemed to pick up where they left off at the park before Chat Noir interrupted them. She sat decidedly close to him–as close as one could to justify any casual brush of the hand as an accident— while Luka, in a sudden bout of confidence, put his arm around her.

He tensed up, waiting for Marinette’s reaction, and was pleasantly rewarded when she relaxed into his grasp and leaned her head against his chest.

“Oh, I just remembered,” she said, while waiting for the movie to start, “I have something for you.”

She reached into her purse and produced a small box.

Luka beamed at her as he picked the little gift from her palm. “You didn’t have to give me anything, Marinette.”

“I just wanted to do something nice for you,” she said, shrugging and giving him a warm smile.

He opened the box and found a guitar pick that Marinette had hand painted with little blue-and-black motifs. His heart swelled for her and found himself wishing he could kiss her.

“I love it,” he said, smiling from ear to ear. “Thank you.”

“I… I have something else for you,” she said, turning herself so that she was squarely facing him.

His pulse hitched up, realizing he wasn’t the only one wishing for a kiss, as Marinette trained her eyes on his.

He couldn’t look away. He felt as if a sort of magnet pulled him towards her, a sort of force that he was unable to escape from even if he wanted to.

A short gasp escaped him as the distance between them shrunk slowly, almost painfully. He was so close he could feel Marinette’s warmth on his skin. So, close their lips almost brushed. So close that–

“Hey guys!” an all-too-familiar voice chirpily greeted them from behind Luka, effectively and immediately interrupting them and causing Marinette to flail and throw the bucket of popcorn she had on her lap.

Luka sighed, this time at the end of his wits. Third interruption, of course it had to be at the hands of whom Luka considered to be the densest human alive. He turned around to find none other than Adrien Agreste, accompanied by Nino. Luka could do little to help himself from giving him the meanest look he could possibly conjure.

“Hey, Adrien. Nino,” he said, clenching his teeth. “What. A nice. Surprise.”

Adrien, oblivious as always, seemed not to grasp what had just transpired. Luckily, as Adrien went on about what a coincidence it was to end up in the same movie theater, at the same showing, and how cool it would be to watch it with them, it was apparent Nino knew better.

“Um, dude, actually, I think I’ll have to sit at the front this time if you don’t mind,” Nino said, interrupting Adrien’s question of whether they could sit with them. “Yeah, my glasses have been giving me trouble…”

Adrien could do little to hide his disappointment but in the end went with Nino. Luka, on the other hand, would have kept grumbling to himself even after they had left if it weren’t for Marinette’s quick kiss on his cheek, which interrupted his train of thought.

“Thanks for being so patient,” Marinette said.

Luka, unable to stay irritated so long as Marinette looked at him like that–with those bright blue eyes and cute little smile, chuckled. “It’s no problem.”

There would be other opportunities, he thought to himself as Marinette snuggled back next to him. For now, he was happy with just watching the movie and enjoy having Marinette in his arms. At one point he was even brave enough to peck her on the head, in one particular scene where Marinette hid her face against his chest with the excuse that she was too scared to watch.

Encouraged by the quick kiss, Marinette looked up to him and again, he found himself drawn to her lips. So, close he could brush his nose against her, so close he smelled her perfume. So close that–

“AN AKUMA!” someone screamed out in the movie theater hall, unchaining a mass hysteria that propelled the audience to rush to the exit.

“Of course,” he muttered under his breath as Marinette sprung up and he followed after her.

Dammit! What does a guy have to do to kiss his crush? Was moment with Marinette too much to ask?

Judging from the smug little smile Chat Noir couldn’t help but sport as he herded him and the rest of the civilians to safety, yes. Yes, it was. It took a lot to annoy Luka, but he now kept a list: Anyone wanting to hurt Marinette, being interrupted when he was with her, and the idea of cats in general. Especially black cats.

“I’m just saying, dude’s a bit weird,” Luka said, hanging out with Marinette and some of her friends a couple of days after Chat Noir’s repeated attempts at sabotaging his date, plus then some more. The story had been quite the laugh for everybody and the group now heatedly discussed whether they knew of other couples Chat Noir liked to sabotage, much to Marinette and Adrien’s mortification.

Adrien, Nino noticed, was quite uncomfortable with the topic. He squirmed in his seat and went to great lengths to not cross glances with Luka.

“Yo, you okay?” whispered Nino.

“Huh?”

“You seem a little… uncomfortable.”

“I’m fine!” Adrien hurried to assure him, but then resumed being consumed in his thoughts. Great. Marinette’s boyfriend now had it out for him for accidentally having interrupted them a time or two.

Okay, maybe it had been around ten times so far, but in his defense half of those were due to Akumas and the rest… Well, the rest were just... you know, “accidents.”

Nino did not comment so as to not add fuel to the fire, but he suspected that Adrien was not only lying, but had finally realized his feelings for Marinette. Nino chuckled to himself, feeling a little sorry for Adrien. Poor dude had the timing of drying cement.

ta-da!

I couldn’t include the part where LB kisses Luka because that sent me into outlining a multi-chapter angst fic and we are NOT doing that cause these babies deserve happiness :)) but alas, here you go

#miraculous ladybug #ml #ml fanfic #miraculous ladybug fanfic #marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #adrien agreste #chat noir #lukanette

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askfallenroyalty · 4 years ago

Note

I don't think you did anything wrong. When a story is being written, there are a lot of different ways to adress and express something and maybe that's why you're being misunderstood. I think there are just too many things to adress in this story that maybe some people will get when these things are implicitly implied and some people will not. So when a breaking point comes, they'd think it came out of nowhere. You can see this with the amount of asks you receive asking you often the same thing.

Does that mean it's wrong? Ofc not! I myself was a little bit confused with Frisk's reactions and conduct in general until you explained it in your recent asks, and I thought man, that was what I was missing!

Now, yes I believe some parts of the story could have been explained in a different way, because in my opinion there's a lot to read between the lines. If you don't try to understand the characters, you'll clearly be confused as hell. But that's why I love this story! As you said before, there's nothing meant to be black/white coded, and I really appreciate the world and the character's complexity in general. You don't have some of the answers in hand, an that's when you have to analize! (At least that's what I do haha)

I also really felt like telling you something I've been relating to, so I'm putting the respectives tw if someone doesn't want to keep reading (TW: Suicide mention).

In the DW Arc, when the Christmas and Feylow stuff happened, I realised through Chara that I was doing the exact same thing with a friend of mine. He was going through a lot of stuff, and tried to commit suicide multiple times. I was focusing a huge amount of energy on him because I was afraid to lose him, and when he suddenly stopped talking to me so he could take a break, I felt really lost. Because he was the person I talked with the most, one of my dearest friends, and the idea of losing him and not being there to stop it made me insanely anxious, because that used to be the situation most of the times. Now it's been a year since he's stopped talking to me, and I don't exactly know the reason. But I couldn't keep running behind someone who didn't seem to keep wanting me around. And if it wasn't for you, I couldn't have realized how much this was hurting me.

And now, as much as it hurts me to see him acting this distant and cold with me, I'm okay with it. I really am. Because I now have the tranquility to see him continue, even when things are not okay. I can't force a friendship and I really needed to understand that back then. I trust him as much as he trusts me.

I really wanted to thank you for writing this story because it has helped me in a way I didn't expect, and I'm sure it will help a lot of people too! I'm even learning from your way of taking and discussing things haha.

I just wanted you to have this tranquility I have with this story because I trust it'll work out and explain itself once it's finished. And I just can't express how thankful I am to be reading your story.

Thank you again,

I'm looking forward to more of your work and please, take care! Don't stop doing what you enjoy! 🦋

putting it under a readmore because of how long the ask/response is, sorry!

i’m at a loss of words because wow, this ask really hit in a way i’ve never really could of anticipated. when writing AFR, i write a story about things I felt. I’ve been Chara, I’ve been Asriel and Frisk at points in my life. I write because I need to tell their stories and make it real, specifically for my own sake of getting through my own pain and to tell the world this is who i am and that I will be ok, there is hope in this world. It’s a selfish desire for me, but ultimately that’s what art is i feel. I couldn’t draw this much and put so much time and effort into something without it being meaningful or personal.

but art is communication, and when I write to be seen and to be heard, I know there’s others who are reading and are connecting with the work. (otherwise, I wouldn’t be getting asks right? its a lonely process, i forget there’s the second half of the equation -you guys) and i’ll do my best to make sure people are accommodated and can experience this story without hurting in a way that’s past enjoying a emotionally gripping piece of media. i don’t want people to be upset or hurt for my work, and I want to ensure I can make this without hurting others.

I try to leave a lot of ambiguity and room for people to interpret stories and I don’t mind people missing the point or interpreting things vastly differently than what I intended. that’s fine, that’s what art is all about. i don’t want to hold people’s hands and tell them what’s happening or what they should feel -i want them to choose and decipher and think things over. stories should be stimulating and thought provoking, and i can’t decide what those thoughts are. I wouldn’t want to. Personally, if it means people become more confused and lost over the story -well, that’s a trade off I have to take. if it means the story is more up-to-interpretation, than it’s worth it to me.

i do regret with how fast and punchy the arc ended up, and I feel my hints may have been too weak. asriel/flowey has been bluntly surprised/asking to be killed twice, he hasn’t felt like himself since dying and has lost his support systems ect. as a person who’s Been Through Shit, I thought it was as obvious as the sun what was to come but thinking on it now?

with how distance asriel is, how limited the perspective is to chara (who hasn’t known Asriel has been going thru the same depressive/suicidal thoughts as they have this whole time) it was a shock to the system. and in a way that’s fine in my eyes if the reader was completely shocked as you can emphasize more with chara that way... but in the same sense its horrifying for them, it must be for the reader as well.

and I do feel I should of thought of a way to handle the scenario to where it was less in your-face with Asriel’s decent into desperation and attempts. I don’t want to ever show it on screen, I don’t want to ever go into detail and make it any sort of fun for the viewer. it’s supposed to be disturbing and painful and I tried to show how greatly painful it was affecting both chara and frisk. Suicide victims are victims and everyone involved suffer from it. It’s ugly and never something one should be anything but ugly.

that is my intent for it be that, but as I’ve heard from people it’s still a shock and went too far. Authorial intent doesn’t matter when people react to your stories. yes, the context can be good to have, but people’s feelings and reactions mean the world more. I hope with the added context of the complete story that helps it in the long run, but as it is I’m very unhappy with how I tackled it and I don’t really have a good answer to how I should of gone about it. but at the end of the day that doesn’t matter as it happened and I can’t change it.

i’m sorry about your friend and i’m sorry for the pain you’ve experienced as well. it’s not easy being in that position (nor is it for ur friend as well of course) and it’s perfectly fine to feel hurt and to take time for yourself to address those feelings. You, as a person, matter and your feelings are justifiably important as well. nobody asks to be mentally ill and your friend’s choices aren’t fully theirs because of that, but it doesn’t change how it’s affected and hurt you. Losing someone’s friendship has always been a painful and inevitable experience people must go thru in life. I’m sorry that you’ve gone through that, but I’m glad -so happy that my story has helped you in any amount. I sincerely wish you both the best and to heal, I’m proud of you anon for getting through this.

I can’t really express how much it means as a writer to see how my work helped you. Like I mentioned before, I write and feel like it’s by myself that makes this work but it’s a 2 way street -you guys contribute to the story and the story only exists and is perceived by you. without an audience, it really truly is just me here. what you gain and experience within a story is just as important as the writing of the work itself and I often forget that.

Thank you. This was a really nice and eye opening ask and it’s going to be on my mind for a while, haha. I hope once the story is done and I can post-correct how I handle the story, people can learn and gain meaning to it like you have. Sorry if this was a bit rambly, I’m very thankful for your response (as well as everyone else who’s messaged!) and I’m very happy and excited to continue and to do my best. Thank you all so much.

#ooc #tbd #not art #suicide #ask to tag #also sorry i do not mean to get so parasocial here! is it parasocial in this instance?#i'm not fully sure but regardless #i do want my readers to be ok and I hope its not out of line to respond like this #maybe i'm overthinking things im sorry asdfkljasd #Anonymous

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heavcnslyre · 4 years ago

Text

ricky bowen x reader second series!! part one

— (continuation) starstruck au!

first series | series masterlist, part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven, part eight, part nine, part ten

IN WHICH you cherish the last few days you have with ricky before he leaves for california.

WARNINGS n / a

NOTES first part of my new series!!!! super cheesy but it’s sweet hope you enjoy!!

text dividers from @writeyourmindaway

lowercase intended

( tags: @hesvoid34 @omgdani17 )

you smiled at ricky’s last message and clicked your phone off, cuddling back into your sheets. ricky had been staying with you the past few days and it was nice to be able to spend time with him, but he was leaving tomorrow. you constantly thought about how different it’s going to be— with him in california and you in new york. you lived such different lives: you were a high school senior in a random city in new york and he was a famous singer in los angeles, california. you were nervous to be away from him for so long, but you knew it wasn’t forever.

you had almsot drifted off to sleep again when you heard your bedroom door open and close. you opened your eyes and peeped over at ricky, who grinned at you when you made eye contact.

“good morning,” he said. he was carrying a box of donuts which he set on your bed close to your feet.

“morning!” you replied cheerfully as you sat up and grabbed the box. he sat on the bed carefully next to you. you pulled out a jelly filled donut.

“i am going to make such a mess on my bed,” you commented, powder already falling from your donut onto the sheets. he laughed and grabbed a glazed donut.

“no surprise there.”

you laughed and took a bite of your donut. after a minute, you turned to him. “what should we do today?”

“hm,” he thought for a moment. “good question.”

“i wish it wasn’t your last day here,” you said. “i have to go back to real life when you leave.”

ricky laughed. “yeah, it’s really been a nice escape, being here with you.”

you snuggled back into your blankets and looked up at him. “you could just stay. my whole family loves you, sure it’d be fine.”

“you know i would if i could,” he brushed your hair behind your ear. “i guess i have a career to get to, though.”

you hummed. “yeah. guess that’s sort of important, huh?”

“i guess,” he said. “you’re more important though, obviously.”

you smiled and grabbed his hand, tracing lines on it. “will you be recording ‘common sense’ when you get back?”

“of course,” ricky grinned. “i’ll release it as soon as possible.”

“i want to be the first to hear the recorded version.”

“well, it is about you, so sure.”

the two of you sat and talked for a while before you heard a knock on the door. you told them to come in and camilla peeked her head in the door.

“oh— uh, hi. sorry,” she said nervously. she had started to get used to the fact that you were dating ricky, but she was still a huge fan of his and wasn’t quite used to seeing him in her little sisters bed.

“hey cam. what’s up?” you asked.

“mom and dad wanted me to let you know we’re going to go out and get dinner tonight since ricky’s leaving tomorrow,” she said ricky’s name somewhat nervously, as if she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to address him casually.

“sounds great,” ricky smiled at camilla. she smiled back, in a you’re-my-sisters-boyfriend-and-i-think-i-approve type way. you nudged the box of donuts with your foot.

“donuts, if you want some.”

she peeked in the box. “any jelly filled?”

“should be a couple more in there,” ricky said. she grabbed one from the box.

“thanks guys. i’m thinking about going to a few shops today with my friend, if you wanted to tag along,” she said as she moved to the door. you looked at ricky and he shrugged.

“yeah, sure. just let us know when you’re going,” you said and camilla nodded before leaving your room. you turned to ricky.

“i think she’s getting used to having you here.”

he nodded. “definitely an improvement from when i came over after the dance.”

you laughed at the memory. when you returned home that day with ricky, ashlyn, and big red, you swore that camilla’s eyes popped out of her head. her face was red the whole time she spoke to him and she rambled on and on. of course, ricky listened and didn’t mind, but you thought her behavior was funny. shes usually so confident, and seeing her nervous was weird for you. you were just glad that she was getting used to him now and that they got along. you weren’t sure what you would do if your family didn’t like him.

“you ready to go?” your mom asked, walking into the living room where you and ricky were watching a movie. you looked over at her and nodded.

“yeah. are we driving together or seperate?”

your mom shrugged. “you guys can drive seperate, if you want. cam’s meeting us there.”

“okay,” you turned to ricky. “you wanna drive or should i?”

“do you really want to drive?” ricky asked teasingly. you laughed and rubbed your eyes.

“maybe not. maybe you should,” he laughed and stood up, offering you a hand. you grabbed it and pulled yourself up.

“what restaurant is it we’re going to?” ricky asked your mom.

“applebee’s on third street. (y/n) knows where it is if you can’t find it.”

“okay, awesome.”

ricky grabbed his keys and the two of you left right behind your parents. ricky rested his hand on your leg and you scrolled through your phone. as you were on twitter, a thought popped into your mind.

“hey ricky? can i ask you something?”

“of course.”

“when do you think you’ll say something about us being together?” you asked gently, in a tone that hopefully portrayed that you weren’t mad, just curious. he thought for a second.

“maybe when i release common sense?” he suggested, glancing over at you. “i feel like by then things will be calmed down enough and i can be truthful about who it’s about.”

you grabbed his hand and intertwined your fingers. “that’s perfect.”

“so, ricky,” your dad asked as you were sitting at the restaurant. “do you have anything you’re working on when you get back to california?”

ricky hummed. “i actually have an album in the works and theres potential for a role in a movie as well. but i’m also going to be focusing on spending time on myself and people i care about.”

you and ricky made eye contact and you smiled. you had had a conversation about how he puts too much on his plate and that he needed to focus on doing what he wanted to do, and he really took that to heart. he planned to spend more time writing his music and he was only going to do this movie if it felt right for him.

“that’s a great plan,” your dad said. “i’m excited to see how you do in the future.”

“thank you, mr. (y/l/n), that really means a lot to me,” he said. “when do you think you guys will make it out to california next?”

“definitely the summertime,” your mom said. “i’d love if we could go sooner but... going across the country isn’t necessarily a weekend trip.”

“yeah, i get that,” ricky laughed. “summers not too far, though!”

“yeah, in the meantime you can just take a drive to glendale and become best friends with my grandma,” you teased. ricky laughed.

“very true.”

the five of you sat and talked at dinner for over an hour, and your family got to know ricky. it was really nice to see them getting along. eventually, you all decided it was time to leave and let other people have your table. as you were walking out in the parking lot, ricky turned to your parents.

“i think (y/n) and i will go for a bit of a drive, if that’s alright?” he asked. your dad nodded and checked his watch.

“sure thing. just drive careful and be back before 12?”

“awesome, thanks!” ricky said and the two of you walked hand-in-hand back to your car.

“so, where are we going?” you asked as you got into the passengers seat.

“just for a drive. nowhere specific. besides, i know nothing about your city. we might get lost.”

you laughed. “this city isn’t that big. but getting lost is not that big of a deal. we’ll figure it out.”

“i’ve said this before— no one i’d rather get lost with than you,” ricky said, then grinned at you. you grinned back and grabbed his hand.

“right back at you.”

you and ricky ended up getting ice cream then finding a park to walk around in. but then, you quickly realized that it was new york in the middle of january, and you were freezing. you sat in the car together, sitting and talking as you looked at the stars. you had learned a lot about each other recently and you just continued to learn new things about him. you were able to pick up on little things he did; like run his hand through his hair when he was talking a lot and how his ears turned red when he got embarrassed.

ricky drove the two of you back to your house right around 11:30. everyone was asleep, as you assumed they would be. you made your way upstairs and into bed and ricky slipped in next to you, a few minutes later. you cuddled up next to him and he wrapped his arms around you.

“i’m going to miss this when you leave,” you sighed. he held you tighter.

“yeah. me too.”

“are you sure you have everything?” you asked ricky nervously, handing him one of his bags at the airport. your parents had left to go look at some of the shops to let you say goodbye. he gave you a light smile.

“yes. and if i forgot anything, you can just mail it to me. or, we can use it as an excuse to see each other sooner,” you laughed.

“are you sure you’ll be okay flying by yourself? are you comfortable?” you asked, he lifted your chin so you would look him in the eye.

“love, i’ll be fine. don’t worry,” your face softened and you leaned in to kiss him. he moved his arms to your waist and you moved yours to around his neck. when you pulled back, you rested your forehead against his.

“i can’t believe you’re going to be across the country from me, and in a different time zone,” you said. he rubbed your back.

“i know. but i’ll call you, everyday. call, not just text. and... i’ll update you on everything i’m working on, my songs, the movie, whatever.”

you nodded and pulled away from him. “just... take care of yourself, ricky. and don’t find another girl to be with in california.”

“trust me, i won’t,” he laughed. “my heart is here, with you.”

“so cheesy,” you teased. ricky rolled his eyes fondly.

“flight 258 to los angeles, california is now boarding!” you heard over the loud speakers. you sighed.

“guess you should go,” you said.

“guess i should.”

you smooth out his sleeves distractedly. “text me as soon as you land, okay? and say hi to big red for me, and your parents.”

“i will. my parents are excited to meet you for real, soon.”

“i’m excited to meet them. june, hopefully. then you, me, red and ashlyn will be altogether again. that’ll be nice.”

“yeah it will be! and i can finally show you more of california. it’ll be great,” you nodded.

“okay, enough of these cheesy goodbyes. no ones dying. facetime me later, i’ll see you soon.”

you kissed him again quickly and he turned to get to his gate as the warning was called for his flight. you sighed as you watched him leave. before he walked onto his plane, he turned around and waved at you. you waved back, a big smile on your face, and he turned to walk onto his plane. as he disappeared from your vision, your parents and camilla approached you.

“he board his plane?” your dad asked. you nodded.

“you okay?” camilla asked you gently. you looked over and nodded. she put her arm around your shoulder. “c’mon. lunch is on me.”

#ricky bowen starstruck au #high school musical the musical the series #hsmtmts #olivia rodrigo #ashlyn caswell #bowen #joshua bassett #ricky #ricky bowen x reader #drivers license #hsm the series #ricky bowen headcanons #ricky bowen

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subtlereferencetomyinterests · 4 years ago

Text

Hypothetically,

Ao3, MasterPost

Relationships: Romantic Intrulogical, Platonic Logince

It is about! Damn! Time! That I wrote some Intrulogical! Also, y’all already know my stance on platonic logince,,,, guys they ARE best friends i’m sorry I don’t make the rules.

Warnings: Angst (with a happy ending). mentions of stuff like autopsies and nuclear explosions in the context of like experiments- they do stuff in The Imagination, basically. Panic attack (?). Hurt/comfort. Pretty heated kissing; It’s more intense makin’ out than I usually write but it isn’t anything explicit at all, don’t worry! ADHD Remus and Autistic Logan. Cursing- like So Much Cursing. Mentions of space, deep sea, etc. Food mention.

Word count: 6,769

There was a conundrum.

A., Logan needed to use the Imagination. B., He could not use it on his own, considering that he was Logic. C., Roman was nowhere to be found. The answer to what was frustrating Logan at that moment would be all of the above.

To be clear, he didn’t like going into the Imagination. It was simply the only suitable place to perform his ‘experiments’. His very necessary, very distracting experiments. But, as stated, Roman was God-knows-where doing God-knows-what.

Logan sighed at the door, as though it was the inanimate structure’s fault. The cracks gleamed obnoxiously bright, golden light pouring out from behind the door in a somewhat eerie manner. It was a nonsensical, unrealistic, completely insignificant place, and he wanted in.

Logan was contemplating asking Janus for help (lies took imagination, right?) when, out of nowhere, an arm was thrown around his shoulders. Literally an arm, disembodied and oozing sick-smelling blood onto the carpet. Ah. Wonderful.

“Hello, Remus,” he pulled the appendage from around him, holding it at arm’s length (no pun intended, dammit).

“Hi!” Remus took his arm back and reattached it with a disturbing crunch, a grin stretching his face. He sidled up to Logan, imitating the side’s stance in front of the door.

“Can I help you with something?” the logical trait tilted his shoulder away from where Remus had pressed against him.

“Not unless you’re willing to get really messy- but I can help you!”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re implying.”

The Duke rolled his eyes, promptly flinging the door to The Imagination open. An encompassing energy radiated into the common room, corrupting the usual neutrality of the space. It didn't last long before Remus grabbed Logan’s wrist and dragged him along through the entryway, movements as sporadic and fast-paced as everything else about the creative.

“It’s not very logical to just stand there staring at the door all day, in my opinion. I dunno what you need Imagination for, but whatever it is, I can help! My half is much more interesting, anyway.”

“Oh,” Logan blinked, narrowly ducking his head under a branch as he was pulled forward, “Thank you, I suppose.”

He politely didn’t mention that he doubted Remus’ capacity for helpfulness. Beggars can’t be choosers, after all.

The door from the commons was quite a walk from the darker half of The Imagination, but at the pace its owner had them going they were there in minutes. The border was marked with tangles of densely thorned shrubbery, which parted for them, as if they sensed the approach. Logan just barely avoided snagging his shoe on one as they passed.

There was forest, twisted and shadowy, for only a minute. After that, they were in a city, with tall buildings and winding streets and dark alleys. Another switch, they came into what seemed like an amusement park. Nothing was consistent in theme, and none of the scenes held up for more than a minute or two. Remus shook his head and tisked. With a snap, a good portion of the ever-changing scenery was erased, leaving blank white space. The Duke turned to look at Logan with a satisfied smile.

“Ta-da! What do you need?”

Logan blanched for a moment, surprised at Remus’ willingness to completely delete Imaginings without a second thought. It usually took Roman ages to find a spot that he was okay with giving up on for Logan’s “projects”- which he always had thought was a little silly, seeing as he could bring it back when they were done. The change of pace was a pleasant one, though, so there was no need to dawdle for long.

“I need a miniature fully-functioning model of our solar system. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Oh, totally,” Remus waved his hand and the request appeared suspended in the air, spread out to be the size of a dining table. All was accounted for- sun, moons, eight planets plus pluto- orbiting and spinning around each other. Imagination, by nature, had no real limits, but the detail was still a sight to behold every time. Logic smiled, surveying the set-up, before gesturing to the edge of their blank section.

“Thank you for the help, you may go.”

“May I now?” Remus conjured a seat for himself, staring at Logan with his chin resting on his hands, “You’re not even going to tell me what this is for? That’s just rude.”

Logan glanced up from the tiny earth he was inspecting, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

“You are welcome to stay, if you wish, but your brother usually leaves at this point. He says my experiments are-” he summons his notebook, “‘Bore-ifying’, which I assume is a portmanteau for ‘boring’ and ‘horrifying’.”

“Roman’s a big baby!”

Logan shrugged, not disagreeing, and resumed his careful observation of the tiny model earth. Remus made no move to go, wheeling his chair even closer. The scientific side carried on before his new audience of one, hovering a hand over the little planet. Abruptly, it stopped spinning. Logan made a gesture with his hand that magnified the model significantly.

The results were immediately catastrophic. Logan jotted a few observations down in his notebook, watching closely at the ways torrents of wind ripped up trees and buildings. In the back of his mind, he was faintly impressed by just how well-rendered ‘Dark’ Creativity’s earth was, down to the individual humans, brutalized by the storms.

“Whoah, what the fuck?!”

Logan looked up briefly to see Remus craning his head over the destruction of the stilled planet. His eyes were wide and bright with curiosity.

“Oh- I should probably explain. I come here, usually, to run some improbable scenarios as a sort of stress-reliever. Specifically, this one is what would happen if earth stopped spinning on its axis. As you can see, due to the earth no longer rotating at its usual speed, the wind would continue on at-” he cut himself off abruptly, sensing the beginnings of a ramble, “I’m sorry, I’ve been told that I have a tendency to ‘go off’ when a subject particularly interests me.”

Remus rolled his chair even closer, looking much like an excited animal (more so than usual, anyway).

“Well then, go off! Don’t leave me hanging! Is that really what would happen, just if it stopped?” He gestured enthusiastically to the way that the oceans had begun to crash against and consume shorelines. He looked interested- genuinely interested.

Logan bit back a smile. He didn’t have to be told twice.

It was one of those particularly restless nights. For no foreseeable goddamn reason, Logic’s mind had become alight with enough half-formed thoughts and barely sensible ideas to fill a very, very weird book. The Imagination did wonders when he got like this, but it usually wasn’t two in the morning when he needed to use it. That wasn’t to say the circumstance was unheard of, but all times prior he could push the urge to investigate away with the reasoning that he could just ask Roman in the morning, and that the Creative side needed his ‘beauty sleep’, as he called it. There wasn’t anything he could do about that, was there?

Tonight was different. Logan could hear the occasional snap or tear or cackle from the room across from his. Remus’ room.

It had been less than a week since The Duke let him use the darker half of the Mindpalace, and that was pretty much the only meaningful interaction they’d had in as many days. They weren’t close, Logan wasn’t even sure if they were friends (not that he was a good judge of that, given the first time Roman referred to them as ‘besties’ he had all but cried), but Remus was at the very least an option. He was also unlikely to mind, given that he was already awake and had exhibited excitement previously.

Logan made up his mind after yet again failing to fall asleep. Quietly, he opened his door and took the few short steps across the hall, raising his fist. Remus’ door was open before his second knock.

“Oh, hey! What are you doing, coming knocking at this hour?” he didn’t even try to whisper, accompanying his statement with an over-exaggerated wink. Logan didn’t waste his time trying to shush the side.

“Good evening, I hope I’m not interrupting anything-”

“You know I don’t mind your ‘interruptions’, Twunk-y Megamind!”

“-But I was wondering if you would… Help me, again. I seem to be having a hard time getting to sleep, and I think that getting out some of my ideas could help.”

Remus’ face lit up dramatically.

“Oh hell yes! Are we gonna blow up more planets?”

“Something like that,” he kept his voice monotone, disguising the relief and hint of pride at such a positive reaction.

“Well, come on!”

Logan let himself be dragged into Remus’ room, barely having time to make note of the surprisingly organized layout before he was pulled through a sleek black door.

“But you have to tell me about it,” he ordered, twisting them through narrow paths in his half of The Imagination. Logan suppressed a smile.

“If you want to hear it, then I’m happy to.”

Without warning, they stopped the breakneck pace that Remus moved at. The trait seemed appeased with their surroundings, though as far as Logan could tell it was just another piece of ever-shifting ominous landscape.

Remus snapped his fingers. The scene remained intact.

“Sorry,” he glanced around nervously, “Things get stuck in my head sometimes. Can’t get ‘em out. I’ll get it, I just-”

“It’s no trouble.”

Logan rolled up his sleeves. He didn’t like using his ‘abilities’ much, as every side had some set of special skills, and all of them were much too ostentatious. But they were helpful, at times. He waved a hand, gesturing carefully so that he didn’t dismantle any more of The Imagination than was absolutely necessary. With a small stutter, the landscape shifted to a blank slate.

When he looked back up, Remus’ expression was not unlike that of a Cheshire cat.

“What was that?”

“I am Logic, therefore it follows that I am the antithesis to any Imagination creations. It’s very easy to erase them with just a bit of rationality.”

“No clue what a lot of those words meant, but it’s still cool that you can destroy shit.”

Laughing was unbecoming, to say the least, and so the logical trait tended to avoid it at all costs. The snort that escaped him was entirely involuntary.

If Remus noticed the noise, he said nothing about it. He was too busy bouncing from foot to foot, expectantly waiting for instructions. Logan cleared his throat of the outburst and clapped his hands together.

“Alright, let’s start with something simple…”

At his request, Remus would construct immaculately detailed creatures, settings, and models, watching gleefully at the ordeals Logan put each one through. They tested various and progressively elaborate ways to sink populated cruise liners, they simulated the effects of falling from the Empire State Building, dissected approximations of obscure marine animals (a shared special interest of theirs, apparently), and any of the other unrealistic questions that occurred to the typically rational Logic.

The only way to get such questions from his mind, he’d found out a long time ago, was deconstructing them one step at a time, to see them in their full ridiculousness.

It was also, he was coming to realize, incredibly fun.

Before the two knew it, the already late hour had turned unreasonable. Logan blinked owlishly at his watch, distracted from the tiny supernova that he’d created.

“Oh, I must have lost track of time,” four in the morning. Four in the morning!

“Aw, does that mean we’re done?” Remus whined, yet he still began unmaking his small star system.

Logan was suddenly very aware of the heaviness of his eyelids and a rubbery feeling in his limbs. God, was he tired.

“I’m afraid so. I really should’ve gone to sleep hours ago.”

“Fine,” Remus dragged the word out with a groan, “But let me know next time you wanna fuck with space, or deep sea stuff, or anything like that.”

Next time.

As much as Logan adored Roman, there was something very nice about having the more grim brother help him out with these experiments. For one, his creations were often much more accurate to the real world- likely because gore and destruction were that much more impactful when they were realistic. For two, he actually seemed to enjoy the work.

Logan’s deliberation was brief.

“I will.”

As it happened, the night spent delving into dozens of ideas had purged Logan’s need to use The Imagination, for the time being. Clearly, Remus was not patient enough to wait for him.

He popped up, unannounced, in Logic’s room.

“Lo!!!”

The trait in question fell out of his office chair in a very undignified way. Not that there’s a particularly dignified way to fall out of a chair, but if there was, this definitely wouldn’t have been it. He ‘ate shit’, as the saying goes.

Out of pure embarrassment, Logan made no move to get off the floor.

“Hello, Remus,” he greeted, “How may I help you?”

The Duke laughed raucously, sprawling into the now-unoccupied chair and leaning over him.

“You’re a riot, Dork,” then, added with glittering eyes, “Did you break anything?”

“No. Given that I am metaphysical, I’m not sure that I have bones.”

“I have bones!”

“Are they your bones?”

“They are bones and they are in my possession, yes.”

Logan let the subject drop and repeated his first question.

“Right, I forgot! I have an idea for an experiment!”

Logan thought that, despite his mild humiliation, it would probably benefit the conversation if he wasn’t lying on the ground, so he stopped doing that. Brushing mostly imaginary dust from his clothes, he shot Remus a bemused look.

“That’s nice. But I was asking you why you were here.”

The Duke’s face fell, almost imperceptibly.

“I thought you’d wanna know, because of what you said last time. Isn’t this, like, a thing we do now? You know how shit works, and I know how to make that shit, and then you can tell me about it!”

Oh.

“Remember when you were talking about radiation the other day? You can’t just say stuff like that and then not expect me to want to try it out, so really this is on you. It’d be dumb not to let you in on it.”

Oh.

He’d been listening to that rant? Moreover, he’d remembered it, and now had his own ideas and follow-up questions about it?

Logan felt light-headed.

“You’re probably too busy with work, huh? I guess my explosions don't have to be accurate, if you’re set on being boring,” Remus’ tone was nonchalant, but he was obviously lingering for attention. Logan then remembered that words are a thing, and people use them to communicate.

“No! I mean, yes- I mean, I’m not busy. I can join you, I- I’d like to, even,” the intelligent side heard a small voice in his head, his own miniature Virgil, screaming- what the fuck was that, get it together, Jesus, because he, despite what his fellow sides insisted, was absolutely nonfunctional when trying to form a friendship.

Remus didn’t seem to notice or care much past his own cheer.

“Cool!” he, yet again, wasted no time in seizing Logan’s arm and yanking him away, “I wanted to see what would happen to animals and plants and stuff bunches of years after lots of radiation! Do you think they’d mutate? Get all twisted and fucked up so that they aren’t even recognizable as, say, a dog?”

Logan considered the question as he was led through the Mindpalace.

“Well, nothing would be able to live there at all. Additionally, anything within a little under a mile of the nuclear fallout- depending on a few variables- would be completely incinerated upon impact.”

“Like, flesh-melting incinerated?”

“More like vaporized. The fireball would burn 10,000 times the heat of the sun.”

Remus went starry eyed, bringing them to a halt a mere five feet from the door.

“I wanna see that,” he waved his hands around at their surroundings, “Can you do the white-out thing?”

Logan, much less hesitant than last time, obliged. A small smile escaped him at the wondrous look on The Duke’s face. It was another form of expression he didn’t particularly care for, but containing his emoting was more trouble than it was worth by now. He couldn’t find it in him to care much either, for once.

“Where do we start?” Remus prompted.

“You tell me. I will help you make it as accurate as possible, and provide any insight that you want, but it is your idea,” and he wanted to hear more about those ideas. Odd and violent, mesmerizing and clever. There was so much that he wanted to hear about, to talk about, to puzzle out together.

Logan couldn’t remember the last time he’d had someone to share such interests with. Maybe, despite how deeply he cared for his ‘family’, as Patton called them- maybe it was never.

Remus chattered as he worked, disrupting the train of thought. Logan almost tuned it out- after all, everyone had grown perfectly used to The Duke’s rambling- but he caught himself. That was hardly how he should treat the side that was so strangely considerate to him, wasn’t it?

Logan listened from then on. He began to add on to the conversation, corrections and elaborations and actual questions, because he actually didn’t know some of it. He didn’t regret the choice.

By the end, Remus and Logan were sitting together in the smoldering ruins of their make-believe test town, exchanging notes for different variables they could use in the next trial. They only stopped when Logan was abruptly summoned away by Thomas. He excused himself, a bit apologetic, promising to visit again soon.

As he helped Thomas (with what really should have been a simple task, honestly), Logic wondered briefly about the origins of the hollow feeling that grew in his chest. Something distracted, longing, and unfamiliar.

And then the oven caught fire, and the only thing he felt was annoyance with the man that he was somehow a component of.

So, that was that- Logan and Remus were friends, now spent regular time together, and shared interests. By all accounts, it was a simple and obviously positive development.

But then there was Roman.

“What’s wrong with my work? You’d really prefer whatever edgy 12-year-old DeviantArt account nonsense that he thinks up?”

Logan set his book down with a sigh and looked over to his doorway, where Roman stood with his hands on his hips.

“Come in, Roman, and thank you for knocking,” he snarked. The Creative side made a vaguely sassy noise, trotting right in and flopping backwards onto the bed. Without closing the door, the monster.

“I thought that building your Weird Science contraptions was our thing.”

Logan made a show of standing up and manually shutting his door before responding.

“You don’t like my ‘contraptions’, as you call them.”

“Yeah, but I still made them for you! Because we’re friends, but I suppose you’ve forgotten all about that!”

He really should have expected the melodrama. And yet, Logan had lived in a delusional world where he didn’t care about the most Extra being on earth.

With an eye roll, Logic dropped down beside Roman on the bed- though he wasn’t half as flamboyant about it.

“I can have more than one friend.”

“Yeah, but I’m supposed to be your favorite! We’re supposed to hang out together! Do the friendship bracelets I made mean nothing to you?”

He flung his arm across Logan’s chest, a ‘friendship bracelet’ clearly visible on his wrist (a loose usage of the term, given that it was a solid gold band with inlaid sapphires, because of course it was).

Logan held up his arm as well, showing that his (silver with inlaid rubies) was still very much in use, despite his distaste for jewelry.

“We hang out plenty. It wasn’t my intention to hurt your feelings by spending time with your brother. My reason for doing so is that he seems to take active enjoyment in building and learning about these things with me. He also makes very good conversation, in regards to the more, ah, eccentric experiments.”

Roman tossed his head to the side to watch Logan with narrowed eyes. After a pause, he linked their arms at the elbow.

“Yeah, you would think that. You’re secretly just as much of a weirdo as him.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Oh please, I can barely keep up with a word that either of you say,” Roman headbutted Logan’s shoulder in what was likely another of his odd displays of affection. He let his head rest there for a minute, a rare instance of peace before he inevitably resumed talking.

“Anyways-”

“Anyway,” Logan corrected.

“Anyways, if you nerds wanna talk about your weird, creepy experiments, then I guess that’s fine. But he isn’t allowed to co-opt anything else that we do together that we both actually like- no making fun of movies together, no Crofters jams, and no poetry-slash-rap battles.”

“Of course not, Roman. You will always be my favorite person to disagree with.”

“Love you, too,” Creativity bumped him again, then sat up to stretch. Logan snorted a laugh and considered shoving Roman off the bed, watching as he raised his arms up and straightened his back. Before the trait had the chance, unfortunately, his friend was already standing.

“Leaving already? Weren’t you just going on about spending time together?”

“Nah, that was all I wanted to yell at you about for now. I’ve gotta go help Pat with dinner.”

“Well, don’t let me keep you.”

“Thanks, I won’t.”

“I hate you.”

“Ditto.”

Halfway out the door, Roman threw a glance over his shoulder.

“Oh, and whatever you two end up doing, do not give me the details. Please.”

Okay, finally, that really was that. Friendship established, blessings given, the end. A simple symbiosis.

Logan was thinking about the practical uses of medieval torture devices? Remus. He wanted to see exactly how long it would take your average healthy adult to succumb to drowning? Remus. Logan wanted to just rant, about anything and everything, his brain moving a mile a minute? Remus. They spent an inordinate amount of time together.

Occasionally, when he didn’t even have the energy to converse, he would sit down with a book in the commons when he knew Remus was there and let the trait’s never ending word-vomit wash over him. It was an odd sort of intimacy, but that fit within the theme of their dynamic. Like he said, simple symbiosis.

And that was when the not-very-platonic fondness grew. And Logan, to his own surprise, allowed it to.

After deep consideration he had seen no reason not to; Remus wouldn’t judge him, not ever. It put a name to the hollow longing that occurred whenever he, eventually, had to get back to work and part from their talks.

He hadn’t sorted out what to do about the feeling yet, but he felt no urgency.

Logan’s book lay forgotten in his lap, that morning being one of the quiet ones as he reflected on his unfamiliar emotions. It was almost nice, letting such affection curl up in his chest and settle there.

His contemplation was broken by a sharp jab to his shoulder.

“Are you listening to me?”

He tilted his head at Remus.

“Sorry, I got distracted.”

“What were you thinking about?” his eyes lit up, very obviously hoping for it to be something disgusting. Logan glanced away, given that he didn’t even like eye-contact in the best of circumstances.

“Nothing important. You have my attention now.”

Remus rolled his eyes with a huff, apparently genuinely irritated.

“Well now I forgot what I was saying.”

“Let’s backtrack: what were you talking about before?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s fine, we can talk about something else.”

The irritation had grown to something unrecognizable to Logan- frustrating, given how closely he tried to study body language. He felt a stab of guilt as Remus stood up from his spot.

“It probably didn’t matter. I’m gonna go annoy Janus.”

“Oh,” Logan’s voice was small, “Alright, then.”

He was already gone.

That was… concerning. Not to mention bewildering; Remus didn’t just pass up opportunities to talk! He didn’t just leave, not even when he wasn’t wanted! Logan really hadn’t thought his zoning out would earn such a reaction.

But he was far from perceptive about emotional problems. There was no way to know if it was anything to throw a fit over. For all he knew, it was just an off-day. He couldn’t always expect his friend to be rambunctious and energetic, even if that was a big part of his personality.

The issue would likely resolve itself.

The issue did not do that. It did the polar opposite, speeding from mildly concerning to downright frightening at a whiplash-inducing pace.

Remus barely asked questions and almost never offered insight, as he usually did when they spent time together. In fact, his contributions had become rare and unenthusiastic enough that he could have passed as neurotypical, however disturbing the thought was. And that was when they did end up spending time together, which was becoming less and less often, much to the dismay of one significantly smitten smart side.

Something was very clearly wrong with Remus. Not the demented, destructive, mildly endearing and unhinged sort of wrong. It was the wrong sort of wrong.

Logan was hesitant to confront him outright. After a couple weeks of careful consideration, a more subtle solution occurred to him, as he idly flipped through a very graphic murder-mystery late into the night. Something bloody, and awful, and very much Remus’ taste. He set the novel down, knowing full well that his friend would be wide awake as he made his way across the hall.

“Remus?” he knocked at the side’s door, wearing a smile much wider than he usually liked. He was more than willing to express exuberance, if there was even the slightest chance that it would be infectious.

The door decidedly did not fly open. Rather, after a good deal of wrapping at it, Remus slowly pulled it back and poked his head out.

“Oh. Hey.”

Logan didn't dwell on the concern that reaction brought. He had something that would cheer Creativity up, of that he was sure.

“I have a test tonight- it’s going to be very messy,” he began, searching the impulsive trait’s eyes for any signs of interest. There was the slightest glint, but not much more.

“So, you want me to make stuff for you?” His speech was monotonous.

“Yes, that was the idea. It’s going to be gory.”

Hardly a reaction. All Remus did was open the door the rest of the way to allow Logan inside. Clearly, he had underestimated just how poorly his friend felt.

“Alright, I’ll set it up for you. Just don’t take too long, I was actually hoping to use my part of the Mindscape today.”

Logan nodded, very taken aback. He couldn’t ignore the slight hurt at the cold, dismissive tone (the irony of that wasn’t lost on him).

They stepped foot into The Imagination and immediately Remus stopped, destroying whatever had been in front of them- which was usually fine, it was just how he operated, but normally out of enthusiasm, not apathy. Maybe this was more than could be fixed with some blood and guts.

“What do you need?”

Logan conjured a tiny notebook, giving a tentative smile. Still, he was giving this plan a shot.

“Operating table,” one appeared before him, sleek metal with rolly legs, “A standard set of surgical tools,” he looked up to gauge Remus’ interest, but his expression still hadn’t changed as he continued to create, “A human corpse, and then we can get started.”

With a wave, a perfectly generic body fell onto the table, but Logan’s attention remained on The Duke.

“Great, have fun, let me know when you’re finished.”

Logan faltered, watching him turn to leave.

“You- you aren’t going to stay and do this with me?”

“You want me to?” Remus crossed his arms over his chest and fixed Logan with a gaze that could (figuratively) wilt flowers.

“I- Yes? If you aren’t at all interested right now, then I can save this experiment for another day?” Yeah, this wasn’t working, but Logan had no backup.

“No, no, don’t wait for me, you’ve already got everything you need, right?”

“I mean- technically, yes, but it- it wouldn’t be the same.”

Remus cackled, sounding quite like the cartoonish villain that he often acted as. It hurt to listen to.

“So that’s what this is about! Let me just fix you up, then!”

He snapped, and a blank humanoid form appeared at his side. It tilted its faceless head curiously at Logan, who recoiled.

“Not good enough? Is a hunk of nothing too unrealistic for you?” he snapped again, and the being suddenly transformed to match its creator exactly.

Nearly exactly: it wore an enthusiastic grin, eyes wide and sparkling, rather than the steadily building fire that raged in real-Remus’ eyes. It spoke in a disgustingly cheery tone.

“Wow, tell me more! Show me that again? What happens when you do that? You’re just so interesting, Lo!”

Remus watched the creation, a look of one part pride and a million parts resentment.

“Is that what you want? It’s just like me, but without any of the hassle of being another person that you have to deal with! And this one, you really can get rid of whenever you want, isn’t that great?”

Logan looked between the two, a fearful understanding creeping up his spine. There was something he was missing here, wasn’t there?

“No,” he muttered, half to the fake-Duke and half to the real one.

“No?” Remus spat, circling his mirror, “No, of course, you’re so right. This isn’t nearly enough.”

He made an elaborate gesture, and about a dozen more Creativities appeared, surrounding them. Logan stumbled back from them, nearly tripping on the operating table that they’d previously made. When he looked up, the real Remus was approaching him with an expression that fought its way between guilt and indignation. It was all at once heart-wrenching and frightening.

Logan tried to right himself, tried to look unaffected and certain of himself, as he raised his voice. He would not let this go a step farther, despite his confusion.

“Stop,” and with that, a wave rocked across The Imagination, and all was erased. In the aftermath he stood before a teary-eyed Remus (just the one, though), uncharacteristically looking like a stiff wind would knock him right over.

“What’s wrong? I gave you what you wanted!”

Logan reeled.

“Why would you think I wanted any of that?”

“You wanted an experiment, I gave you one! You wanted a willing audience, I gave you twelve! But I guess I just get everything wrong, right?”

“You know that isn’t true,” Logan felt choked, his words clumsy. It was foreign and horrible and disgusting, but he’d trudge through it all if it meant fixing whatever he’d done wrong. It couldn’t have just been him losing focus once? Could it?

“Oh, of course, I do just enough to be useful. So I’ve got that right; I’m a good utensil. Is it so much to ask that people would care about me, not just what I can do?” he posed a rhetorical oozing with vitriol, but it quickly evaporated into something much more desperate, “What if it’s my fault? It was my idea, I wanted to help. I don’t know why I thought you’d care past all that, did I give you a reason to? I can’t remember. It might make more sense that way, if I were the problem, wouldn’t it?”

Logan was running out of time to fix this, watching Remus curl in on himself, barely keeping from falling to the floor. He had no clue how The Duke had reached the conclusion that he didn’t care about him! They spent nearly all their free time together: sitting next to each other just to have the company, throwing each other tricky and often troubling questions to answer, constantly toiling away at things in The Imagination. Sometimes, they didn’t even need to talk, they just worked together in rapt silence; Remus did the creating and Logan arranged his work just so, and- Wait. Wait. Wait.

Logan didn’t need to talk, or touch, for that matter. Perhaps it was a mistake to presume the same for such a needy, affectionate, boisterous side?

No, not perhaps, it was a huge mistake. A major fuck-up, if you will.

He’d thought, if the blunt side had needed such comforts, surely he would initiate it? He hardly shied away from anything, except, well.

Except. Feelings.

God, he was the dumbest smart person in the world.

“Oh, Remus…”

The Duke’s head jerked up, continuing his back-and-forth of desperation and rage.

“I don't need your pity!”

Logan sighed, twisting the end of his tie in frustration.

“That isn't what I'm offering,” he took a breath before continuing, linking the words together so it would come out right. “I'm so sorry, I didn't take into account how you would interpret our interactions. I thought it was obvious that I cared for you, that I didn't need to say it outright. Clearly… I was wrong. So, if you need more than what I previously expressed- which I'm now realizing was very little in the eyes of someone who is not me- then I am happy to provide that for you.”

Remus was shaken, a good deal of his ire slipping away. Whether that was good or bad remained unclear.

Before it could be overthought, Logan crossed the remaining few feet between them and brought his arms around The Duke in his loose approximation of a hug. The trait froze, but he didn't pull away.

Physical affection, check.

“I value your companionship more than I'm entirely sure how to verbalize. You understand me in a way that most others don’t seem to. While your ability to make detailed creations is very helpful, it is hardly the only thing I appreciate about you.

“For one, you make me laugh. A lot. More than I'm used to. Additionally, you can easily match the pace with which I speak, or change topics! And, you are so much smarter than you make yourself out to be,” Logan finished the spiel with a smile, genuinely proud at his ability to articulate such… sentimental things, with relative ease. Words of affirmation, check.

He snapped back to attention when Remus brought shaking hands up to Logan's chest. For a moment, he worried that Remus would shove him away. The fears dissipated when all he did was bunch the front of Logan's shirt in his hands and hold on tight.

“Do you mean that,” his volume was low, “Or do you just want me to calm down?”

Logan tightened his grip around him and, following a motion that he'd seen Patton employ many times to great success, he rubbed up and down his back.

“I understand that it might be hard for you to trust me, but I promise I'm not lying to you. I would have to be pretty awful to do something like that, wouldn't I?”

Hesitantly, Remus nodded against his collar. A good sign, but there was one thing left he had to say.

“And- If you need further convincing- then you should know. I love you.”

Remus stilled. He then unfisted his hands from Logan's shirt. It was an anticipatory second before he threw his arms around the logical trait and finally returned the hug. His hold was crushing, and it was the most comforting thing that Logan had ever felt.

They were okay.

“I'm sorry I-”

Logan didn’t let him finish the apology.

“Don't be. You didn't know how I felt, because I hadn't communicated it in a way you understood. That is hardly your fault.”

Remus nodded again, remaining much quieter than he’d probably ever been in his entire existence.

They held each other for longer than either would like to admit, speaking softly.

“Thanks,” was muttered against Logan’s shoulder.

“Of course. Just so you know, I'm more than willing to do this again whenever you need reassurance.”

“It might be a lot,” his tone was turning more mischievous, more him, “Are you sure you can handle that?”

“Absolutely.”

Logan hardly minded having an opportunity to gush about Remus to Remus. Not to mention, the physical affection was even nicer than he'd imagined it being. And oh, had he imagined it.

Remus' face returned to his usual ever-present zeal, and he ended their hug to bounce in place.

“Great! I'm good now! We can get on with that autopsy you wanted to show me- there better be buckets of blood!”

Logan shifted his weight.

“Maybe we should save that for another day.”

“Oh,” Remus' face fell the smallest bit, “Okay.”

Logan was quick to amend:

“By that I mean, I have something better in mind.”

Remus curled himself up in Logan’s lap, his eyes barely focused on the TV as the side carded his hands through his tangled mop of hair. Final Destination 3 played on the television (he had assured Logan that they didn't need to see the first two, and he was mostly right), serving as an excuse for the two to drink in each other's company.

It was right in the middle of a particularly graphic rollercoaster scene that Remus took Logan's hands from his hair to hold them, twisting around to face him.

“Is something wrong, Remus?”

“You told me you loved me,” he stated blankly.

“Yes, I did.”

“I didn't say it back!”

“No, you didn't,” it hadn't been the most important matter at the time, really. “You don't have to say it. It's perfectly okay if you don't feel the s- Mmph!”

Remus smashed their lips together, holding the sides of Logan's face (disrupting his glasses in the process) and pulling him forward harshly.

Logan, for less than a second, was floored. And then Remus tilted his head to deepen the already heated kiss, and the situation properly clicked. Logan reciprocated, slightly uncertain in his movements, wrapping his arms around the other’s waist.

Remus smiled against him. He nipped at Logan's lower lip with sharpened teeth, eliciting a very embarrassing yelp. Logic let his lips part in response as his thoughts grew fuzzier by the second.

The (somewhat clumsy) open-mouthed kiss lasted right until they absolutely had to break, separating for air. Neither moved very far, letting their foreheads rest against each other and all but panting for breath.

“I love you so fuckin' much, nerd,” when Remus spoke, their lips brushed ever so slightly, “Just so you know.”

“I picked up on that, yes.”

“A little clarity never hurts, right?”

Logan chuckled at the reference to his own sentiments, but the sound was abruptly cut off when Remus kissed him properly again.

When they broke apart, he explained how 'stupid-cute' that laugh was. And Logan, only half-joking (since when did he joke at all?), said that he’d have to do it more often.

Banter came easily to them, despite the raw undercurrent that still laced their conversation. Although, neither of them had ever found it difficult to talk; talk about the first thing that came to mind and the last thing that would come to anyone’s mind, talk about exceedingly simple nonsense and topics so intricate that they wound up sounding like nonsense, just talk.

So things would stay mostly the same. They would ramble to each other when no one else could stand to hear such disturbing things. They would sit, working side by side, running through plans and ideas and results at rapid-paced speech. They’d speak, and they would listen, when even their closest friends couldn’t manage such patience.

Only now, sometimes the rushed words might turn soft. Now, all that ranting might be more substantial than anyone would at first see. Now, they’d still listen, but leaned close together, gazes impossibly fond.

But then, on occasion, they would find that there were things far more fun than talking to do together.

@shrimp-crockpot

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superspookywombat · 5 years ago

Text

Falling {j.h}

First chapter done :)

Warnings: blood, slight mentions of anxiety

“I just don’t understand why she can’t sleep on the couch!” Bella yells. You stab at your dinner with your fork, the metal scratching at the cheap plastic plates. You shove your plate away, your appetite suddenly gone. Getting up from the table, you grab your plate and start scrubbing at it in the sink.

“She’s your sister! She’s not just some guest who’s visiting for a few days, she lives here just as much as you do!” Charlie’s voice raises. You flinch, not liking to hear him upset. Submerging your hands in the soapy warm water, you search around in the water for more dishes to do. You don’t usually like to do chores, who does, but you were looking for anything to delay your suitcase that needed unpacking up in Bella’s room.

“Really? Do sisters avoid you when you almost die? Do sisters ignore your emails? Phone calls? That woman in there is not my sister!” Bella answers. Her response, slightly surprising but also expected, makes the hole rip just a little bit more. A door slams and you jump, your hand involuntarily spasming. You don’t feel it at first, but when you look down and see that the once white, foamy water is now red, a fiery pain shoots through your hand. Footsteps thump down the stairs, causing you to look over and make eye contact with a fuming Bella. Your dad is quick to follow, his footsteps much louder and heavier on the wooden steps. Bella looks away, then moves to grab her jacket and keys from the couch.

“Dad I-” You start, your hand still clutching your other. His eyes don’t leave Bella, who is now walking opening the front door.

“Just- hold on,” He says, stepping forward to come face to face with Bella. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Out.” She replies, slamming the door shut behind her. Charlie turns to you, his face paleing when he sees the thick red dripping down your arm and onto the floor.

“It was an accident, I just- I- there was a knife and I didn’t know that it was there and-” You ramble.

Charlie rushes into the kitchen and grabs a dish towel. He presses it into your good hand and pats down his pockets, looking for something. “Put pressure on it, I’m going to go get my keys.”

“Dad I’m fine!” You protest, but the blood pumping out of your wound says otherwise. The words that had come out of your sister’s mouth had almost stung more than the gash. You and Bella never fought before moving apart. It was almost weird. You could understand what the other was saying with a quick glance and some eye contact. You weren’t leaving much behind in Phoenix. Before Bella left, you guys stuck to yourself, mostly. There was once when a boy had come between you two, but it didn’t last long after he took you on a date and felt you up even though you had said ‘no.’ He dropped you off at your house that night, and came to school the next day with a broken nose. Bella didn’t have to say anything for you to know that she had approached him before class, the bruises blooming on her knuckles saying it all. The memory causes a small smile on your face. You and her had once been inseparable. Charlie stumbles down the stairs, grabbing his jacket and slinging it over his shoulder.

“Alright, come on.” He says. You follow him out the door, and Bella’s truck is nowhere to be seen. He opens the passenger door for you and you climb in, using your free hand to buckle up. Charlie starts the cruiser, then peels down the driveway. He races down the road, his eyes flickering between your hand and the pavement.

“Dad, slow down. The police chief going 45 in a 25 doesn’t send the best message.” You say calmly. He flicks a switch and suddenly a loud siren radiates through the cold car.

“There,” He says, his voice slightly quivering. “Problem solved.” He looks down at the red-soaked cloth around your hand, then lets out a shuddered breath.

“Are you okay? You don’t look so good.” Your voice thick with concern. He lets out a humorless chuckle.

“Am I okay? You’re the one with a hole in your hand.” He answers. You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Really? I haven’t noticed.” You say. Him being worried causes your anxiety to flare up. You knew it was going to be okay, but you didn’t like seeing him like this.

“Sorry, I just- I don’t like when you girls get hurt.” He says, his fingers tapping rapidly on the steering wheel.

“You’re the one that raised not one, but two klutzes.” You scoff. The humor and lack of worry in your voice calming him a little. He doesn’t answer, but a small smile stretches on his face. Charlie pulls into the parking lot of the hospital, parking in a no-park spot. You roll your eyes, knowing that if you pointed it out he wouldn’t move. He hovered his hand over the small of your back after draping his coat over your shoulders. Herding you into the ER, his eyes rake over the crowded waiting room. There’s a stomach bug going around according to the local news station. You take a seat as Charlie talks to the guy at the desk, no doubt name dropping that he’s the chief. You sigh, your hand throbbing.

“Y/n Swan?” A nurse pokes her head through a door. You stand up and follow your dad to the lady, a short, black haired woman.

“That must be a record time.” You tell Charlie, he doesn’t answer, too busy being greeted by passing staff. A clock on the wall says that it’s a little past noon. Most ER visits landed you in an uncomfortable hospital bed for most of the day, so you could kiss your plans goodbye. You had planned on using Bella leaving to your advantage, a chance to unpack, or even just take a nap. But now by the time you’d get back, she’d probably be home again. There wasn’t much you and her had in common, you thrived in the chilly atmosphere of Forks, she couldn’t care less for it. You both loved to read, but she had always gotten along better with Renee, whereas your parent of choice was Charlie. You both were accident prone, but you had always been a risk taker, leaving her to play it safe and talk you down from all of your crazy ideas. She was antisocial because she was a loner, but you were antisocial because of your anxiety. Like Bella, you were pale too, but your hair was (h/c). A phone ringing pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Chief Swan.” Your dad answered. You knew who was calling when he used his ‘authority voice.’ His eyes flickered to you, your face pale and your shirt covered in blood. “Is there anyone else who can- no, yeah. I understand. I’ll be there in ten.”

“Go, I’ll be fine.” You reassure him, hoping he can’t sense the anxiety bubbling up in your throat. He gives you a small smile, then awkwardly pats your shoulder.

“Call me if you need me, okay kiddo? I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He says. You grimace at his use of ‘kiddo,’ but return his smile nonetheless. He closes the curtain behind him, then walks away. You lay back and close your eyes, trying to focus on anything but the burning in your hand. Tomorrow is your first day of school, and you’re going to show up with a stitched hand like some sort of freak. Your mind wandered until someone pulled open the curtains, making them screech. You looked at the doctor, then wondered if you had bled out and gone to heaven, because the man in front of you had to be an angel. His blond hair almost blended in with his strikingly pale skin, his Topaz eyes seemingly piercing into your soul. Breathe- You remind yourself. The doctor holds out his hand for you to shake, and the moment your skin touches his you flinch at the surprisingly iciness of it.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Swan. I’m doctor Cullen.”

#cullen #edwardcullen #edward cullen #twilight #fanfic #fanfiction #bellaswan #bella swan #charlie swan #charlieswan #jasperhale #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale #chapter 1

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scxrsgxrd · 4 years ago

Text

No Good // Willard Russell Part Three

Part one here

Part two here

Hello everyone! I’m so sorry it’s taken so long to update this but, as promised, the next part is here and I hope you all enjoy it! I really appreciate you taking the time to read this and love reading your responses :)

WARNINGS: 18+ mature language, mentions of alcohol, smoking, blood and violence.

Lillian smiled politely when she picked up her Uncle’s prescription from the pharmacist, cramming the small paper bag into her purse and making her way out of the pharmacy, lowering her head as she heard various whistles come from the two men on a smoke break outside the building.

“Well hey there, darlin’.” The man in the white coat drawled out to her, throwing down the butt end of his cigarette while he used his other hand to comb through his dark, greasy hair.

“Hello.” Lil forced a smile, keeping her eyes on the ground as she clutched tightly onto her purse.

The man smirked at her; he seemed to take pleasure in her agitation. He cast a glance to the shorter man behind him, raising his eyebrow which made the short man snicker.

“Name’s Ray, honey. Ray Miller.” He leant closer to Lil, close enough that she could smell the tobacco on his breath mixed with the overwhelming scent of his cologne. He took a hold of her hand and brought it up to his lips, pressing a sloppy kiss on the back of Lil’s hands while his eyes landed on her breasts.

Lil recoiled.

“Nice to meet you, Ray.” She wiped her hand on the back of her skirt and was about to carry on walking when he cleared his throat and craned his head toward the building in front of them, Miller’s Pharmacy.

“Oh, lucky you.” Lil didn’t know how she was supposed to react to this ogling man and his painfully over exaggerated bragging.

“I see we’ve had your custom, how much were the pills?” Ray nodded to the small bag poking out of Lil’s purse, and looked as though he was about to snatch it from her before she took a step away.

“That is none of your business, sir.” Lil gritted her teeth, her act of defiance made Ray frown, but nevertheless he took another step closer to Lil and lowered his voice. He was slightly taller than her, so he peered down at Lil, his lips grazing her ear as he spoke.

“Listen, honey. You ever need a discount on your bill, you ask for me, m’kay? I have a few other.. methods of payment that could be suitable for a pretty little girl like you.” Ray’s eyes raked up and down Lil, his head craning slightly to get a glimpse of the back of her skirt.

Lil didn’t respond. She wasn’t going to give that perverted son of a bitch the satisfaction. And besides, her Aunt Barb would give her niece hell if she found out she made a scene with the heir to Miller’s pharmacy. Instead, Lil began to walk away. She lowered her head when she heard the loud whistle come from Ray, and took a few deep breaths as she made her way along the dusty old road back to Al’s bar.

Willard had just finished his day’s shift at the slaughterhouse, the acrid stench of death was still clinging to his nostrils as he lit a cigarette while leaning against the wall outside of the slaughterhouse, gazing at the town busybodies hurrying from shop to shop. Then he caught sight of Ray Miller.

Sleazy motherfucker.

Ray was in prime position outside the pharmacy in his glowing white coat, his dark hair slicked back as he jeered at unsuspecting women passing by. Ray was practically asking for someone to land a few blows in his snivelling little face, and Willard wanted to be first in the queue for when that day eventually came.

Willard perked up slightly when he noticed the girl from the bar exit the pharmacy, only to be leapt on by Ray. Willard’s jaw involuntarily tightened when he saw the son of a bitch press his lips against the girl’s ear and whisper something. The look on the Lil’s face told Willard exactly what Ray was muttering to her.

So Willard waited. He waited until the girl had left the vicinity of the town and threw his cigarette butt onto the floor, pressing his foot over it as he made his way over to Miller’s pharmacy.

“My god, Willard Russell.” Ray held his arms out as though he were offering Willard some kind of friendly embrace, but quickly reverted back to his original standing position when he saw the look on Willard’s face. Ray tried to buff his chest out slightly, taking a deep breath as he stood as tall as he could, and opened his mouth once again.

“Such a shame about that pretty little wife of yours, it was always a delight seeing her pass by-”

Willard grabbed onto the collar of Ray’s coat, leaving crimson stains on the polished white material from the blood still on his hands from his shift. Ray’s nose crinkled when he noticed the crimson smear.

“You listen here, you greasy little shit,” Willard snarled, shoving Ray against the wall as he tightened his grip on the coat.

“You don’t bother that girl again. Or any other girl for that matter, if you do then I’ll make you fuckin’ regret it.” Droplets of Willard saliva sprayed onto Ray’s face as, for the first time in his life, he was trembling like a terrified puppy.

All Ray could manage was a meek little nod. Willard growled as he let go of the coat, staring at the shorter man for a few seconds longer before he began to walk away, quickly. He knew if he stayed any longer his temper would once again get the better of him, and he needed a damn good drink.

Lil was mopping down the bar with a stained old rag when she heard it. That laugh. She knew she should keep her gaze firmly on the puddle of beer soaking into her rag, but her eyes began to flicker upwards toward the man who had just waltzed into the bar, his obnoxious bellowing drowning out the guffaws of the other drinkers.

Ray.

At that exact moment his gaze caught hers, and he staggered his way over the bar. Even before he reached her Lil could smell the liquor on his breath, the leering smile he had on his lips earlier in the day had only seemed to grow.

“How much?” Lil could barely make out what he was saying as he threw himself onto the nearest bar stool, his elbow knocking an empty beer bottle onto the floor with a crash, which only Lil seemed to pay attention to.

“You’ve had enough.” Her tone was assertive, she made sure of it. Lil wasn’t going to let him intimidate her again.

He snorted and shoved his hand into the back pocket of his slacks, producing his bulging wallet as he slammed it onto the bar.

“Not for a drink.” His teeth began to poke out from behind his lips.

“For you.”

Lil stared at the man, who seemed to take her aghast silence as an incentive. He opened his wallet and slid a $20 bill towards her, his eyebrow raising as he gazed between the money and Lil.

“Get out of this fuckin’ bar, right fuckin’ now.” Lil made sure to keep her voice low, she was aware of her Aunt chatting away to a couple of men at the nearby booth.

“Mm, I can be more generous than that sweetie pie.” Ray threw a second $20 bill at Lil, his eyes glimmering as it landed at her feet.

“Pick it up.” He drawled, licking his lips as he sat further back on the stool.

Lil folded her arms and bit down on the inside of her lip.

“Bend that pretty little ass over and pick the fuckin’ money up.” Ray slammed his fists down on the bar and raised his voice enough for the whole bar to quieten and look in Lil’s direction.

“Oh, Ray. Here, I’ll sort that out for you honey.” Barb quickly bustled over and bent down to pick up the bill, holding it out to Ray with a smile, which only made him snarl once again.

“I didn’t fuckin’ ask you. I asked the pretty little whore with the red lipstick.” Ray leant over the bar and grabbed Lil by the chin, his thumbs digging harshly into her skin as she tried to shake him off.

Then, as if out of nowhere, a large hand landed on Ray’s shoulder and hauled him off the bar stool, the other fist connecting with his face as Barb let out an almighty shriek.

Willard was sat in his usual place at Al’s, the booth at the farthest end of the bar, away from everyone else where he could enjoy his beer in a somewhat sense of peace. He wrapped his lips around the rim of the bottle and tipped his head back slightly, a small sigh leaving him as he felt the lukewarm liquid trickle down his throat.

Willard didn’t normally pay attention to his surroundings, he was never one to be interested in the ramblings of people around him. He had enough rambling to listen to inside his own head. He had just finished his beer and was about to lift himself off his seat when an unpleasant, almost roaring sound filled the bar.

Just what I fuckin’ need.

Willard pinched the space between his eyebrows, he couldn’t even enjoy a drink without that grimy bastard interrupting. His eyes followed Ray over to the bar, where he made a beeline for Barb’s niece and rummaged around in his back pocket before lifting out his wallet, the dollar bills crammed inside it almost floating down onto the piss-stained floor.

Willard took a deep breath, he knew what was about to happen. The same thing that happened every time Ray got himself shitfaced after his payday.

Don’t do it, Willard. This ain’t your fight. He began to repeat over and over in his head.

It was almost like Willard had some kind of out of body experience. He flew up out of his seat and barrelled over to Ray, landing his hand on Ray’s shoulder as he dragged him up.

Ray was much smaller than Willard, and his alcohol consumption had made his legs useless. He slumped to the ground as Willard landed his first blow, and a dull, guttural growl left Willard. He grabbed onto Ray’s shirt and pinned him against the bar, his teeth clenched as droplets of sweat formed on his chest and forehead.

“What’d I fuckin tell you? Huh?” Willard didn't care that Ray couldn’t hear him as he had lost consciousness, he clenched his fist once more and raised his arm.

It took four men to lift Willard off of Ray, but Willard didn’t come quietly. He thrashed and flailed, screaming various insults as he kicked his legs out and tried to grab onto whatever he could to help him free himself.

The only thing that made Willard pause was the look on Lil’s face. Her features were contorted with pure horror as she clasped a hand over her mouth and let out a sob, her eyes widening with pure fear as she saw the man who had become almost animal-like in front of her.

“You, You.” Barb screeched at Willard, shoving at his chest as tears flowed freely down her cheeks.

“You ain’t welcome in this town anymore, let alone my damned bar.” She moved forward to push Willard again, but Al grabbed onto her shoulders and pulled her into a tight embrace, his tired eyes signalling for Willard to leave the bar.

Willard tripped down the steps out of the bar, a searing pain in his knuckles beginning to manifest as the haze he found himself in a few minutes earlier began to subside. He stumbled slightly as he saw himself hunched above Ray, blood trickling from the man’s nose as he sank into the bar. Then, he saw the look on Lil’s face. The smudged mascara running down her cheeks as more tears formed in her eyes, she should never have seen what she saw.

Willard knew he only had one choice left. He needed to pray.

He ran a hand through his hair, the sweat on his forehead had made a few strands stick, and his chest was still heaving.

“Willard? Willard?” He didn’t hear the voice behind him as he began to slowly trudge away from the still silent bar.

“Mr. Russell.” A hand latched onto his.

The notion made Willard flinch, and he turned his head to see Lil stood behind him. She took a few steps backwards when she realised he had his attention. From the faint glimmer of the moonlight Willard could see the tear stains on her cheeks, and her lipstick was smudged across her chin.

He shook his head as was about to continue on walking when she grabbed onto his hand once again, tighter this time.

“Let go of me, girl. I ain’t no good to you, and now you know why.” His voice cracked slightly and his eyes began to well up.

“Let me help you.” Her tone was genuine and her eyes softened slightly as she stepped towards him.

Willard felt something inside him click, as if the inner torment just.. ceased for a minute or two. Lil gave him a small smile and nodded her head, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

And, at that very moment, Willard kissed Lil for the first time.

Tags: @roman-cek @lucifer-reads @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @illskillsgard @walkxthexmoon @jj-lynn21 @llama--mama @erzsebet1614 @ispeaksarcasm14 @skarsgard-daydreams @skrsgardspam @theskarsgardcult @dreamtherapy

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#bill skarsgard #bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard fanfiction #the devil all the time #willard russell

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