#this is a year round kind of problem but then specifically
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violent138 · 29 days ago
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I preemptively apologize for how annoying I'm going to be on Halloween.
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sixosix · 6 months ago
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religion's in your lips
third year to timeskip!hinata x fem!reader, a tad suggestive
It’s Shoyo’s fault.
You don’t join Shoyo’s outings often; most of them are volleyball-related anyway, and you didn’t want to get in the way. But right now, it’s just the third years, and Shoyo had begged so sweetly with round eyes that you would be cruel to even think about denying him.
Kageyama sits on your other side, stiff and polite, jostled here and there by Shoyo pressing up against you. Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, and Yachi sit on the other side of the table. Conversation is light and comfortable. They don’t exclude you even when talking about practice matches and lineups—Yamaguchi asks you about your own club ever so often, too.
Yamaguchi claps his hand, forcing everyone’s attention on him. Except Shoyo, who’s busy tracing stars on your hand. “Do you guys want to watch a movie this weekend? I heard they��re releasing a sequel of the one we watched back in first year.”
Yachi emits a wordless sound of excitement, easily agreeing. Kageyama and Tsukishima begrudgingly agree at the same time, then sneer at each other. Then they all turn to you and Shoyo.
Shoyo grins. “Sorry, I got plans already.”
“You get a girlfriend, and suddenly you forget about us,” Yamaguchi mourns. Shoyo laughs while you get flustered and assure them that you’re not keeping your boyfriend hostage. Kageyama says that they know Hinata is the one doing it.
“You’re going to watch our match next week, though, right?” Shoyo asks you in a low whisper, as the other three dutifully settle in their own world.
“You don’t even need to ask, Shoyo,” you tell him. “Of course.”
Shoyo’s eyes brighten impossibly, face split into a grin. He looks like he wants to push you down onto the floor to kiss you in front of his friends, but he doesn’t. You knew he wouldn’t.
It’s Shoyo’s fault.
Really. Seriously this time. Specifically, Hinata Shoyo from third year. He’s changed from first year, gained more confidence, but he’s still shy and soft-spoken with you, which you expected from someone as sweet as him. It set your expectations for him and what your relationship would look like in the years and years that you’ll spend with him: bearing that first love kind of shyness.
It takes about two years to prove you wrong.
When Shoyo came back from Brazil, the first thing he did was kiss you breathless in front of everyone in the airport.
His strong arms around your waist, pulling you up—which you had to think ‘thank God’ for because your knees have definitely buckled. You don’t think too much about it, because he’s been gone for two years—two!!—and you’ve missed each other too much.
But when Hinata’s mouth descends to your jaw, you have to push him by the chest and exclaim (albeit weakly), “Shoyo—there are still people behind us!”
Shoyo blinks and pulls off, his eyes fogged over with heat that makes you have to look away, having to remind yourself that you’re in public and you do not want to beg for him to continue. Thankfully, his friends yelling his name seems to have snapped him out of it.
But his palm never left your side, splayed over your hip like a mark.
It gets worse at his homecoming party thrown by his teammates back at Karasuno. You’re familiar with them, and they’re familiar with you, so of course, it wasn’t a problem when Shoyo was pulled away to greet everyone. You made friendly conversation with Sugawara-san, caught up with Nishinoya, and joked around all night with Yamaguchi and Tsukishima.
“You called each other every night?” Yamaguchi’s brows have shot up all the way to his hairline.
You smile. “I mean—isn’t it normal for people in a relationship?”
Tsukishima shrugs. “Hinata loves you as much as he loves volleyball, I’m not surprised.”
Yamaguchi considers it. “Hmm, I guess.”
“Hinata’s waiting for you,” Kageyama mutters from behind you, appearing out of nowhere. His brows are stitched together, and his mouth is pulled in his ever-permanent Kageyama pout. “His staring is pissing me off. Can you go get him?”
“He’s not a dog, Tobio,” you chide lightly but grin all the same when you turn to your side and see Hinata Shoyo’s eyes drilling holes into your head.
He’s not mouthing anything. Shoyo stays seated on the loveseat, looking entirely isolated from the crowd around him. His eyes say it all: come here.
Helpless to his whims, you obey.
“Shoyo,” you murmur as soon as you reach him.
He pulls you to his lap. “Baby.”
You freeze. He’s never called you that before—his expression isn’t shy at all, too, just expectant. Heat crawls down your body as he tugs your back to his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder. Shoyo’s own warmth is a burning sensation. You feel lightheaded.
“Ah—well, um.” You pinch your arm. “Are you feeling okay? Did you drink?”
“There’s no alcohol here.”
“I’m pretty sure I saw Sugawara-san holding a bottle.”
“Ah, well. Sugawara-san.”
You understand. What you don’t understand is what happened in those two years to have Shoyo’s hand crawling on your thigh, a scorching mark on only that part of your skin. To have Shoyo’s breath on the nape of your neck without him flushing and flinching away. To have Shoyo have this air of confidence around him that’s usually in volleyball suddenly translate to you.
“Did you miss me this much?”
“You have no idea, don’t you?” The implications are clear: I could show you how much, if you want.
Still, this development is very sudden. You squirm on his lap, but Shoyo doesn’t relent. He keeps you there, a puddle in his hands. Nobody is watching—or maybe they’re just being respectful, but you feel flustered facing this side of Shoyo in public.
“Shoyo,” you warn. “Not here.”
It’s Heitor’s fault.
Ever since Hinata had met Heitor and Nice and witnessed how unapologetically intimate they were with each other, Hinata became envious. He wanted that, too. He wanted that with you.
“Well, why wouldn’t you?” Heitor asked when Hinata lamented to him.
Hinata made a pitiful noise, like a deflating balloon. “I don’t know. I think she just thinks I’m too cute to take that seriously.”
Heitor laughs. “Shoyo. Trust me. You’ll drive your girl crazy if you’re confident with it.”
It’s Heitor’s fault, and Hinata is eternally grateful for it, seeing your wide-eyed face beneath him like this. He loves it when he surprises people, but yours might be a different kind of thrill that he’s already addicted to.
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a-case-of-attachment · 9 months ago
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Okay, writing prompt if you're interested. LuciferXreader, making out in a pile of rubber ducks. It may be weird as hell, but also really cute and funny. AND!! Laughter is a healthy part of any relationship!
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Yes I’m interested!!!!!!!!!
I hope this is what you’re after, it kind of got away from me and I spent way too long thinking about what all those little duckies could do.
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Lucifer had a problem, one of his own making that was yellow and sometimes quacked, maybe barked, there was even ones that spoke backwards and in riddles. They came in all kinds of colours and did all sorts of things. He had a purple one that could teleport, a rainbow one that shot confetti out of its mouth when it was squeezed, he even had one that glowed in the dark and played lullaby’s. The point was that Lucifer had made a lot of rubber duckies over the years but he didn’t realise quite how many until he was looking for one specific duck.
“Where are you, you little piece of…” Lucifer grumbled, his words trailing off as he dived into another mountain of ducks, sending them tumbling down to join the rest that had spilled over the floor. He had been at this for a while now, sending his work room into chaos and all because Charlie had been telling Vaggie all about one she had seen him making when she was a child. She hadn’t asked him for it and Lucifer had honestly forgotten it existed until she had brought it up but she seemed so enamoured with it that Lucifer had decided there and then that he had to gift it to her as a reminder of happier times in her childhood. The only problem was that he couldn’t find the damned thing and he was quickly running out of patience.
“You alright there love?” Lucifers head jerks up and round at your amused voice, blinking dumbly at the sudden brightness of the room. Your leant against the door frame, eyebrows furrowed slightly but a teasing smile tugging up the corners of your mouth. You were a vision, a ray of sunshine through the grey cloud that had been steadily forming over him. “Yep! Everything’s fine. Hahaha. A oh kay. What erh, what are you doing here darling?” Lucifer laughed nervously, his cheeks heating up with embarrassment at being found in such a state.
He had abandoned his hat and jacket ages ago, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows and his gloves somewhere within the sea of ducks. Lucifer had unbuttoned his collar at some point, his bow tie pulled loose and hanging around his neck like a sad flat little snake. His face must be flushed by now and his hair that was once neat and styled probably looked more like a birds nest now, stick up in every direction and clinging to his forehead.
“Charlie called me. Seems someone has been ignoring her calls and texts for the past couple of hours and she wanted me to check in and make sure they hadn’t gotten so involved in a project they forgot to eat again. Clearly she was right to worry.” You gave him a pointed look, clearly expecting an answer for his current predicament. Bitting his lip Lucifer let his eyes sweep across the carnage that was his work room and the vast amount of ducks he still had to get through. He needed help or he was never going to get through all these, not any time soon anyway and who better to help him than you? He always wanted to spend more time with you and this would keep you in close proximity for quite some time. It was a win win in his books and he was damn sure going to take full advantage of it.
Groaning Lucifer let his shoulders slump and looked back to you, finding you in the exact same position you had been in before though your eyes had softened slightly now, worry starting to creep in at the edges. “I’m looking for a duck,” he stated, nodding slightly after he had spoken like it was that simple of an answer. “Oh really? Never would have guessed.” Lucifer glared at your sarcastic reply, huffing loudly and crossing his arms over his chest in an overly obvious display of indignation that you both knew was just for show. The gentle laughter his behaviour got him sounded sweet, even as you rolled your eyes and pushed away from the doorframe. He always liked the sound of your laughter, like music that soothed his soul and made his heart ache all at once.
“Alright your majesty, are we looking for one in particular or is this a know it when a see it situation?” You raised an eyebrow at him in question as you sank down onto one of the few spots of clear floor. “It’s made of crystal, has a really cute teeny tiny crown on its head.” You hummed at Lucifers words, your attention now firmly on the ducks that surrounded you. “And when did you last see it?” Lucifer winced at your question, tugging at his already loose collar and refusing to make eye contact with you when you glance in his direction. “I don’t know, maybe a couple of centuries ago. Charlie was about five or six at the time.” You made a weird choked off noise when he said centuries, Lucifer catching a glimpse of your hand slipping on the pile of ducks you had been looking at and sending a couple more tumbling to join the ones that Lucifer was already half buried under.
He offered you an apologetic smile and hopefully his best puppy dog eyes in an attempt to soften any sort of regret you might be feeling at having sat down to help him. It must have worked because you sighed heavily before rolling your shoulders back and sitting up straighter. “It’s fine, we’ll find it and when we do you are sooo going to make it up to me with back rubs and kisses.” Lucifer agreed readily, nodding his head and promising you that and a thousand things more. “Right! We are going to do this one duck at a time, sorting as we go. We will have four separate piles, one pile for the ones that are just rubber ducks with a unique paint job and another for the ones that do something useful.” Lucifer opens his mouth to protest because all his duckies are useful but a quick glance from you has him closing it before he can even get a sound out. “There will also be a pile for ones that do pointless things and another for the ones that are just plain dangerous.”
“They are not dangerous!” Lucifer insisted, snatching up a random duck and squeezing it to prove his point. There was a loud click followed by sound of metal grinding together and Lucifer looked down in horror as the barrel of a pistol slid out of the ducks now open mouth. “Hahaha, how did that get there?” Huffing you held your hand out expectantly and Lucifer reluctantly handed the traitorous thing over, making sure the postal was safely back in place first. Without a word you leant over and pushed a section of the ducks out of the way, clearing a patch on floor in front of you. The gun toting duck was place down gently, looking way too sweet and innocent for what it hid within.
You picked up one from next to you and held it out towards Lucifer. “What does this one do?” He squinted at the thing, turning his head slightly to the side as he tried to remember what this one did. It was yellow like most of them except this one had a red rimed beak that made it look like it had lipstick on. “Lipstick!” Lucifer shouted out triumphantly, his sudden outburst causing you to startle. “It’s lipstick, retro rouge if I’m not mistaken.” You turned the duck toward you, tilting your head quizzically as you squeezed at its sides. It’s beak parted as a stick of bright red lipstick emerged. “Huh,” you said, loosening your grip on the duck so the lipstick went back in before placing it on the floor a few inches away from the other duck. You picked up another, this one yellow with black spots and held it out towards him. “What about this one?”
This goes in for hours, one duck after another and though it would normally be a rather tedious Lucifer is having fun. Some of his duck creations really are bizarre, like the one that changes colour depending on the time of day in Hawaii or the one that screams whenever someone says pineapple. There are some good ones though, like the one that generates a personal forcefield that’s lasts up to an hour when placed on your head or the one that cleans your bath after you’ve used it. The useful pile was a lot smaller than the others though, the useless ones needing a whole corner of the room to themselves. You had even found one that said ‘I’m quackers about you’ in a squeaky voice when squeezed, a little heart shaped box of chocolates with Lucifers hat emblazoned on the front held between its wings.
Lucifer had refused to hand that one over, especially when he realised you intended to put it in the useless pile. A had sat there, cooing at the thing and stroking its head whilst you glared at him. So preoccupied with the duck Lucifer didn’t have time to prepare himself as you suddenly lunged across the space, hands grabbing for the sweet little ducky. The two of you had spent far too long rolling around the floor and tussling for the duck until finally you came to a stop, sprawled across Lucifer and the both of you breathing heavily. You were close, head hovering above his as you stared into one another’s eyes. All Lucifer would need to do is tip his head back and then he would be able to kiss you, one of his favourite things to do these days. His eyes dropped to your lips as your tongue snuck out to wet them, your teeth nipping at your bottom lip enticingly. Lucifer sucked in a deep breath, his hand flexing on your waist where it had ended up in your little play fight. Your head lowered slightly, eyes darting down to his lips then back to his eyes as if asking permission that you really didn’t need. From down by his hip there came a loud quack followed by ‘I’m quackers about you’ then another quack effectively bringing a sudden end to the tension growing between the two of you.
The two of you dissolved into laughter, Lucifer wrapping his arms around your middle as you buried your face in his neck. You lead there for a while, laughing softly until that trailed off and the two of you when just lead there, holding one another and surrounded by ducks. It had been nice if a little weird but Lucifer wasn’t complaining. “It’s true you know,” he said softly, not wanting to ruin the moment but his words had you shifting, pushing yourself up slightly so you could look down at him with confusion. “What is?” Your voice was just as soft as you spoke, the hushed tone adding to the intimacy of the moment. Sighing Lucifer reached up, cupping your check and rubbing his thumb gently across it. “I really and quackers about you,” he deadpanned.
The stunned silence that hangs between you goes on a lot longer than Lucifer thought it would and despite how hard he tries he can’t help the large smile that spreads across his face or the laugher that comes bubbling out. Groaning loudly you finished pushing yourself up into a sitting position, shoving Lucifer back down when he tried to follow. “You’re terrible,”you mumble, shifting back over slightly to avoid nocking into a stack of ducks. Lucifers still chucking when he sits back up, effortlessly catching the rubber duck you half heartedly throw at him. “Mmmm, and yet you still love me.” Lucifer wiggled an eyebrow at you, leaning in slightly to emphasise the ridiculousness of the gesture. This time it was you who couldn’t help but smile, huffing in amusement and shaking your head at him. “Yeah, I do.” Lucifer beamed like the cat who go the cream at your words, always feeling like his heart could take flight every time you told him you loved him. Truly a bizarre phenomenon that would need much more research done into it, requiring you to tell him often and in multiple ways how you felt about him. “Now come on, this bloody duck isn’t going to find its self.” Lucifer took the duck you held out to him, a hot pink one with a flame branded on its chest, and quickly lent forward to place a kiss on the back of your hand before he started telling you all about the duck and how it could be set on fire and wouldn’t melt.
That had been a good few hours ago though and night had settled heavy over the city since then. Over half the room had been cleared now, Lucifer having opened a portal and dumped all the colourful, boringly normal ducks onto a sleeping radio demon to create some extra space for you both. There was still no sign of the duck he was after though and the both of you were clearly tired, the process having slowed down considerably in the last half an hour or so. He’s beginning to think it’s a lost cause, the duck long since lost or broken.
You yawn loudly, arms stretching out above you before you fall back into the heap of ducks behind you. The groan you make sounds almost painful as you wiggle in an attempt to make yourself more comfortable amongst the ducks. Your eyes close, hands disappearing into the sea of yellow above you. Despite how horribly uncomfortable it must be you look content and Lucifer wants nothing more in that moment than to crawl over there and join you, curling up against your side and resting his head on your chest so you can both get some much needed sleep. As much as he wanted to give into temptation Lucifer was determined to find the duck for Charlie, fixated on giving her that little moment of happiness and wonder that had stayed with her since childhood. That didn’t mean you had to suffer with him though.
“I think it’s time you were getting to bed darling, I can finish up in here.” Your eyes open slightly at his words, brows furrowed and your smile slipping into a frown. “Lucifer.” There was an odd tone to your voice, one that he probably should have paid more attention to but Lucifer assumed he knew what you were going to say so he kept on talking, turning away from you to continue looking through the ducks as he did so. “I know. I should be trying to get some sleep as well but you know I won’t be able to, (Lucifer), not till I’ve found this duck anyway and I really just want to surprise Charlie with it. She seemed so happy when she was talking to Vaggie about it and I just wanted to, (LUCIFER!)” Your loud cry of his name had Lucifer jumping, dropping the duck he had been holding to the floor with a loud splat as it oozed out like a marshmallow melting in the sun.
Laughing nervously Lucifer turns back to you, an apology already on the tip of his tongue but it quickly disappears when he sees what you’re holding. You’ve sat up, eyes fixed on your hand that you’re holding out towards him. In your palm sits a crystal duck, a small black crown sat atop its head styled similarly to Charlie’s own. Lucifer sucked in a breath, reaching out to take the thing from you with trembling fingers. He can’t believe you had found it, just when he was starting to lose hope. You truly must be heaven sent.
Without warning Lucifer lunged at you, flinging his arms around your neck and sending you sprawling back into the ducks with a yelp. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” Lucifer said between peppering your face with kisses. “Lucifer,” you laugh, turning your head to the side and giving him access to your neck. He places a few more quick pecks along your neck and the top of your shoulder before placing one final one on your lips.
“She’s going to be so surprised,” Lucifer beamed, pushing himself back up and turning towards the door, a wide smile on his face as he stared down at the crystal duck clutched in his hand. He didn’t get more than two steps towards the door before fingers wrapped around his wrist and stopped him in his tracks. Frowning Lucifer looked back over his shoulder at you, finding you looking at him just as confused as he was you. “Where are you going?” Lucifer blinked down at you dumbly because surely that was obvious? “To give Charlie the duck?” It came out slow and sounding more like a question, Lucifer even holding up the duck in case you had forgotten.
Your confusion smoothed out into understanding, a small smile curling up the corner of your lips. “Lucifer,” you said almost teasingly, tugging gently on his wrist until he turned to face you fully. “It’s the middle of the night love. She’s going to be asleep, and even if she isn’t she’s probably going to be doing something she doesn’t want her dad walking in on.” You look at him pointedly, waiting for your words to sink in. “Oh…ohhhh,” lucifers eyes went wide, looking down at the little duck in a mix of horror and embarrassment.
You chuckle gently, tugging on his arm and causing him to take a step towards you. “So why don’t you,” you plucked the duck from his hand, leaning back to place it on top of the coffee table before turning back to him and wrapping your hands around his wrists, “come back here and finish giving me my reward hum?” You tugged him forward and down, Lucifer’s knees hitting the floor on either side of your waist with a dull thud. You used your hold on his wrists to lift his hands and place them on your shoulders before gripping his waist and pulling him down and closer until he was sat in your lap. Lucifer blushed, licking at his lips and swallowing slightly. “I eh, I can do that.” You hummed at his words, lifting one hand to cup his cheek and guiding his lips down to yours.
The first few kisses were soft and slow, Lucifer humming gently at the addictive feel of your lips moving against his. He sank into you, getting more comfortable on your lap and letting his arms drape over your shoulders. The two of you stayed like that for a few long minutes, Lucifer content to spend hours just like that but it seemed you had other ideas. Pulling back you nipped gently at his lip, Lucifer letting out a little whimper at the sudden sting. Resting your forehead against his you slid both your hands up his back, pressing him as close to you as he could get. “Hold on tight,” you mumbled, placing a kiss against his lips.
Lucifer barely had time to register what you had said before you were moving, effortlessly tipping him to the side and rolling him onto his back. He landed within the ducks with a dull thud, several of the stupid things tumbling down to land on his face. Your laughter was sweet as you helped remove the offending ducks off his face, leaving the ones that had fallen around his head and shoulders. “There you are handsome,” you smile as you remove the last one from his head, clearly delighting in the bush your words get you. “Your erh, looking rather radiant as well.” Lucifer cringes at his own awkward attempts at flirting, refusing to look at you because of how awfully that was. You would think he would have gotten better at this sort of thing over the centuries but there was something about you that just left him flustered and unable to say what he means when in your company. When you’re not around he can wax poetry about how your smile lights up the world like a sunbeam or how your eyes sparkle like the stars, but now? With you looking down at him like he’s your whole universe? Not happening.
You shift to the side slightly, slotting one of your legs between his and pressing up against him. “Only when you’re the one looking,” you whisper before pressing your lips against his, using his startled gasp as an opportunity to deepen the kiss. Lucifer moans softly, wrapping his arms around your neck and pulling you in closer. There’s a duck digging into his back and the sound of muffled quacking coming from somewhere above him as their movements caused another wave of ducks to fall down in them. It was ridiculous, kissing in a pile of ducks that were threatening to swallow the two of you up but Lucifer found he didn’t really care, especially when your tongue swiped across his lips, seeking permission that he readily gave. This here, this was the closest to heaven he had felt in eons and he was content to stay in this moment for eternity. Well at least till Charlie woke up anyway.
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iamnmbr3 · 2 months ago
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What's you take on the whole wand situation?
It never ceases to amaze me how well Draco's wand worked for Harry when he had trouble with Hermione's wand and they've known each other for years.
Not only did the wand work, he also defeated Voldemort with each I find so funny for some reason.
And we need to remember that his wand was made of unicorn hair, which makes it extremely loyal to its owner so how the heck did it work well enough to defeat one of the greatest wizards of all time?
J.K.R can claim that Harry disarmed Draco all she wants, I call bullshit. To me it feels they share a deep connection which is why it worked
I KNOW!! It is insane that JKR, Queen of the Anti-Drarry Squad, wrote this in canon. So fitting that she should be cursed to accidentally canonize queer ships she hates lol.
The bit about Hermione's wand is super interesting for several reasons. Harry never wins the wand from her, but because they are very close and compatible and because she loves Harry and wants the wand to work for him, it does. Not perfectly. But way better than the Blackthorn Wand, which he didn't win AND which came from a stranger who had no compatibility with him and felt no allegiance or emotional connection to him. So we see that the compatibility of the wand's owner with someone and, crucially, the emotional bond they have with you, also influences how their wand responds to you.
This has huge implications when it comes to Draco's wand. Draco's wand is made of unicorn hair, which, as you correctly point out is known for its loyalty and affinity for its original master. This is not a fickle wandcore that is easy to just win in a quick duel. Not only that, but hawthorn wands are particularly tricky to master.
Plus, if wands could switch allegiance too easily then it would've come up earlier. If just disarming someone is usually enough to do it then any class where such things are practiced would have huge repercussions. Not to mentions fights between enemies. It would be a huge problem for Death Eaters or Aurors. Snape would've lost mastery pf his wand to the Marauders pretty early on in his school career. (Harry also would've lost mastery of HIS wand to Snape in the end of book 6.) This would make wizards extremely cautious about dueling each other. Thus, the character and desires of the wizards and of the wands and the specific circumstances must play a much bigger role. Some wands must be more loyal than others too. For example I can imagine the Elder Wand being relatively fickle. Or the kind of wand that would choose Peter for example. But a unicorn hair wand?
Furthermore, Harry doesn't even really fight Draco. He pulls the wand right out of Draco's hand. And Draco...lets him. He has fast reflexes. He's a Seeker who is nearly equal to Harry in ability. And we see how quick he is at spells and how well he holds his own against Harry during their duel in book 6. Yes Harry - who is a deadly dueler - beats him in the end, but they go several rounds. Draco, in fact, holds his own against Harry for longer than anyone except for Snape. Much longer than Voldemort ever does for example. So if Draco had wanted to get off a spell to blast Harry away from him when Harry was totally unarmed and literally just trying to pull the wand out of his hand - he could have. But he doesn't. He lets Harry take the wand.
And the wand's loyalty transfers seamlessly to Harry. Not only does it work for him. It works PERFECTLY. It feels "friendly" in his hand. In a way even Hermione's didn't. He is deeply compatible with the wand and the wand obviously is actively friendly to him. This clearly reflects Harry's fundamental core compatibility with Draco (they're soulmates your honor!) and also Draco's true loyalty and affection towards Harry.
The Hawthorn Wand isn't betraying its former master. It's honoring his wishes by protecting the man he loves.
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kedreeva · 2 months ago
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I know you've raised several breeds of quail by now- which one has been your favorite? I'm looking into adding one or two quail tractors to my farm to help manage the insect population in the horse pastures as well as roaming them supervised in the barn for the same purpose. (With a hutch in the tack room for the winter and nighttime). I'm just not sure what species to choose! I have quite a few available around me, including button, bobwhite, coturnix, and celadon coturnix.
my "favorite" doesn't really apply to use; my favorite are the bobwhites, but keeping them was a nightmare. In the peafowl pens, the peafowl just ate their eggs. In an indoor pen, they hid their eggs and I was forever finding hidden stashes that were ??? age. In hutches, they seemed miserable and more aggressive. After a lot more reading on research done about it, wild-release captive-born birds pretty much never survive to reproduce, so it was wasted money and time (for the quail, I'm sure the predators in the area didn't mind, nor the outdoor cats).
But for what you want, bobwhites and buttons are not going to really be feasible. Bobwhites you can't really "roam" them even indoors, because you will have a hell of a time catching them if you can even find them- those little shits can squeeze into pinholes you would not BELIEVE if they are trying to hide after landing from a flush, and they're excellent at flying. I let the WHITE snowflake bobwhite I had into the peafowl pen and immediately lost her when she buried herself in a small patch of longer grass along the barn wall within 3 seconds (I did find her eventually but man she was HIDDEN). Buttons are even worse/smaller, and they're not even cold hardy, so you'd have to actually heat them in the winter, not just keep them in a room protected from draft. You'd kind of run into the same problem with other new world quail like valley/gambel's, or blue scale, or montezuma or whatever. They're all still naturally flighty, survival game birds.
The coturnix really aren't that much better, but at least they suck at flying and aren't as flighty to begin with, but you're still likely to be chasing them around the barn to get them back, rather than them returning to a hutch to sleep. The problem with them is they're fairly lazy, and they don't raise their own kids ever (it's just been bred out of them), so you WILL have to buy more or an incubator if you want to replace them, and they are Meat birds and don't tend to live as long as new world quail. But, of all the quail, that would probably be your best bet if your heart is set on quail. They're ravenous, they're meaty and lay eggs daily year round, and they're pretty tame for a game bird. If you like blue eggs, then you can go with the celadons, but they're a lot more work for selection (and I don't mean selection toward standard, I mean selection so their eggs don't go to shit and start breaking/getting malformed due to the ce gene messing with some health stuff if you're not careful about avoiding it- definitely do research before getting them) and more finicky on nutrition, so you may find they don't do as well ranged on pasture as the standard egg layers do.
HOWEVER. If you have the ability to do it, and you're specifically looking for insect population control, you could always go with some bantam chickens instead of quail. Unlike quail that were never bred for it, chickens DO have a "home base" instinct, which means they're unlikely to disappear into the wild, and there's no native wild chicken populations (assuming you aren't in the jungle where chickens originated, but I could be wrong) escapees could interbreed with (unlike with quail, who CAN hybridize with native quail and Cause Problems) if they happened to leave. They can be turned loose into pastures and get all over the place to eat bugs without you having to move a tractor (but can also be tractored if you prefer to place them). And there are some VERY small breeds out there - seramas, OEG, sebrights, d'uccles/booted bantams, d'anvers, etc - and there are some breeds that come in bantam and standard that are still pretty small (silkies, polish, cochins, etc). AND the smaller breeds can have small coops to be roosts overnight, so their housing similarly doesn't need to take up a ton of space.
Alternately alternately, you could have a look at guinea fowl. They're a "game bird" like quail, but they're able to free range like chickens, but they don't necessarily need or even want a coop; they prefer to roost in trees on most farms I've seen. But they're well known for a) readily declining insect populations where they are, particularly ticks and b) being a home alarm system because they WILL scream about anything weird they see, but they're more accurate about it than, say, peafowl, whose definition of "weird" includes things that are very normal. but they're not as small as quail or bantam chickens, and I don't know what the likelihood of absconding is, so you'd have to talk to someone that keeps them- I'm just mentioning them in case you've never heard of them and want to look into it.
So, yeah, Coturnix (any variety) if you're set on quail and you want to let them out of a cage in any capacity that involves returning them to your care, but I'd honestly advise looking into bantam chickens if you're looking for insect control specifically since they have better ranging ability. Or guinea fowl if you find they're your thing.
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queenlua · 2 months ago
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hey lua what decks do phoenix aceattorney and miles aceattorney play in magic
PHOENIX WRIGHT
once upon a time, a friend bullied me into going to a Pro Tour Qualifier, which was probably the largest Magic tournament i’d ever been to at that time, right?
i was happy to be bullied, to be clear, but the problem was… i hadn’t played standard-format Magic competitively in about 2-3 years.  so my knowledge of the current metagame, what deck archetypes were popular, and what the current cards even were, was staggeringly limited.
“it will be fine,” said my friend.  “here, take this spare deck i built.  it’s super-straightforward and easy,” he lied.
he said this to me approx. 8 seconds before the first round began, so uhhhhh, i sure was playing a game of magical cards without ever having even looked at the damn deck before!
so, lo, literally in the course of playing the deck, i was learning how this shit was supposed to work.  “oh!” i’d exclaim with delight, halfway through my turn.  “THAT’S how those two cards are supposed to interact.  oh that’s super clever.  what a neat combo.”  and then i’d proceed to shiftily look at my opponent over my cards, riffle those cards a lil bit, and then say “pass” with as much of an enigmatic vibe as i could muster.
meanwhile, my opponent was Actually Prepared, and they were Trying To Win, and they were pissed.  they threatened to call Slow Play on me because i was taking so fucking long reading all the cards.  as in, he literally called a judge over, who stood there watching me the whole time, in order to determine if i was being Criminally Bad At Magic versus just A Regular Amount Of Bad At Magic, and i was sweating bullets the whole time because i didn’t know this deck or their deck or any of those cards and AHHHH why is the judge staring at me!!!
….which only served to make it EXTRA-humiliating for this poor fuck when i proceeded to eviscerate them 2-0.  hahahah get dunked onnnnnnnn nerd!!!
and then i also proceeded to eviscerate my next opponent???
sheer dumb luck.  i cannot overstate how ill-prepared i was for this tournament.  i absolutely did not deserve these wins.
meanwhile the friend who gave me the deck was having a much worse time with their deck, and they were like “what the fuck. you weren’t supposed to win. how are you winning with that shit, my deck’s so much better than yours”
anyway.  i think that’s the kind of scenario Phoenix would get into if he were an MtG player.  dude Gets Himself Into Situations And Then Uses Cleverness + Bullshit + Luck To Get Out Again.
(AA4-era Phoenix seems like he’s doing the same thing… but, in reality, he’s actually been meticulously crafting his deck in secret for the past six months.  he’s not even aiming to win the tournament, he’s just exploiting a known weakness in the opponent-matching system that lets him know with certainty who he’s going to get matched up against (spoiler: first round is Kristoph), and he’s hyper-optimizing his deck to beat Literally Only Those People.  meanwhile, Apollo, who built a tryhard hyper-optimized variant of Red Deck Wins, is lowkey annoyed that Phoenix's seemingly-random pile keeps vaulting him just one table above him in the standings, because Apollo knows his deck is better. he knows it!!!! just let him go 1v1 and prove it aaaaughhhh!!!)
((also, in case you want Actual Concrete Cards And Colors And Stuff: in general i think Phoenix prefers limited play (draft, sealed, "anything where you open booster packs on the spot & throw a deck together") to constructed play, because he doesn't like being tied down to any one game plan. when he does play constructed, i think he's less attached to a specific colors and more attached to specific mechanics. in particular: he's not a combo player exactly, but he likes mechanics that feel like bullshit. dude saw Madness for the first time & his eyes lit up & he was in LOVE, "you mean i'm discarding the card but then i can cast it for free??? hell YES." he absolutely ran a poison counter deck during New Phyrexia. ah fuck i just realized he was probably a huge stan for noted awful expansion Battle for Zendikar, i think i gotta cancel him now, sorry))
((and i think Phoenix also has a touch of Timmy in him! like, i went to a huge state tournament once with a bunch of really skilled players, and there was this one dude in our car who had a really solid deck, clearly adhered to a lot of the trends in the meta at the time... but his win condition was a Shivan Dragon. which wasn't a bad card at the time, it was a reasonable win condition, but it was... slightly suboptimal? not at all the obvious pick? sort of random? and multiple people asked him "why is that your win condition" & he shrugged and said "i like dragons." so the dragon stayed & that dude ended up getting second place in the whole tournament so FUCK optimal play, bring a dragon. i think Phoenix would sneak in a dragon now and again. just 'cause))
MILES EDGEWORTH
this one is trickier!!!
young!Miles is just going to play Whatever The Meta Deems To Be The Best Deck, right. the von Karma perfection thing and all. it's all very boring & micro-optimized to be the Best Deck Of Its Kind & he pours over the results of the big name tournaments week after week & does some math or whatever to hyper-optimize his own build of the Obviously Correct Deck. there is no soul in any of this, purely Executing On A Formula.
...but then he experiences Character Growth & has his big gay crisis & now he has to pick up the game again. he opens the latest tournament results... clicks around some win % stats for various cards in a desultory kinda way, and... his heart's just not in it, right?
enter 2-4 era Miles. 2-4 era Miles is playing some utterly unhinged Five Color Good Stuff thing. there's a lot of Planar Chaos cards in there, because that whole set was about Weird Shit & cards doing Stuff You're Familiar With (But In The Utterly Wrong Color!!!) & all that is resonating with Miles more than he'd care to admit. he cannot possibly talk about his unnecessary feelings but he can make a weird noise rock album about them. and by noise rock album i mean this fucking Magic deck.
and he's playing this deck with a 100% straight face, as though this is the exact same behavior that won him the Junior Super Series five years in a row & not a desperate cry for help from a madman. everyone else is like Miles... are you playing fucking singletons... in a fucking standard deck... you know your deck will be more consistent with four-ofs right... and then he gives a cool fish-eyed stare & taps out to cast some arcane bullshit legendary creature & gives a single rap of his knuckles against the table to indicate that he's passing the turn.
and it works, is the thing! all those years of training to be the Spikiest Spike Ever have paid off; this Five Color Good Stuff thing relies on some pretty clever insights to make the mana base work, and parts of what he's doing eventually get adopted by the larger metagame to become an Actual Serious Deck. but, like. it's still a monstrosity. any skilled players watching are still definitely wondering Are You Okay, Dude.
after 2-4, i think Miles settles back into playing something more normal. he still cares about winning, but he's going to do it with a touch of class. he wants a game that involves dialogue, some actual back-and-forth, because just trying to combo off is lame coward behavior.
aw yeah baby we're talking counterspells!!!
he's a blue player at heart & he's happiest when he's updating the autopsy report shutting down whatever his opponent's plan is. he'll splash other colors as the occasion calls for it, but he'd be happy running mono-blue the rest of his life. like, i ran a pretty fun Legacy deck back in the day which consisted of:
every kind of counterspell i could get my hands on,
propaganda because FUCK creatures,
thieving magpies for the card draw,
and a few silver wyverns to, y'know, actually win the game
...and i think Miles would appreciate that deck. just play counterspells until the opponent runs out of steam & then cruise your way to victory with a couple birds. simple. elegant. classic. doesn't involve any of this modern Planeswalker bullshit (Miles regards most developments that happened to MtG post-Time Spiral block or so as affronts to game design).
(i do think Miles has a secret fondness for sagas as a card type, however. they remind him of all that Character Growth, but in an abstract/subconscious/nonthreatening way. too bad most of them are a bit of poor match for the kinds of decks he likes to play)
FINALLY: i think Miles hates playing Commander with every fiber of his being & Phoenix loves it & this is a pretty serious point of contention in their relationship. poor dudes
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love-lilly02 · 8 months ago
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The Challenge— Chapter 9
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When you died, you were going to have an all white funeral. 
It was something that had been decided by your entire family, not even by your agreement but by tradition. According to them, a funeral was a celebration, not an occasion to be sad. 
When you joined the 141, they were required to ask how you wanted preparations to be set up, if there were any “special requests.”
Your mom answered that one for you. 
Never in his life did Gaz actually assume he would show up to a funeral in white. 
He almost thought he would have to do it. 
“This is bull shit!”
Soap’s yell snaps Gaz out of his thoughts, and he looks back at where the man is sitting on the edge of his seat yelling at the others in the room. Specifically you, who’s sitting there half in tears. If your laughing or crying is still completely unknown to him. “That clue is bull shit and you know it.”
“I’m literally HANDING you the answer!!” You yell back at him, almost choking over both your words and laughter at the same time. 
“NO. YOU ARENT. THAT ANSWER IS SO SHITTY A TOILET WOUKDNT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH IT!!!” Soap hollers back, and the rookies explode with laughter. 
“ITS A FUCKING MOVE THEY DO!”
“I don’t know what the fuck a pas de deux is but it does NOT. EXIST.”
“Bitch i was one of these hoes for twelve years, I WOUKD KNOW”
And so it continues. It had started out with a simple game between the four of you, well, three considering Si opted out, but it quickly turned into a good natured screaming match over the game. Headbands always turned out like this though, at least whenever Soap played. 
“Thirty seconds, suds.” Price grumbled from the couch, and you snapped your fingers quickly, trying to think of something to give him a hint.
“Fuck uhhh, okay The Nutcracker?”
“Actor?” 
“No, no but you’re close. They move around a lot more?”
“A soldier.”
“No, damnit. Like, like— fuck, fuck!! Okay pink fluffy skirts-“
“DANCER!”
“Yes!!” You scream, and you both jump for joy. Everyone in the room cheers, and Gaz even notices Ghost crack a smile under his mask. 
“Fuckin ‘Pas de Deux’ what kind of a clue is that” Soap grunts, knocking back another drink. You just roll your eyes, sighing loudly. 
“It’s literally a dance move everyone knows. I could have said pirouette and you still wouldn’t catch on, I don’t see a difference.” The silent insult makes him chuckle, and Gaz’s smile widens.
“Lay offit ay? Not my fault nobody knows dance terms.”
“I actually knew that.” Gaz pipes up, and Ghost nods in agreement. “It is a pretty common dance move.” 
You throw your hands in the air as if to say see fucker, I was right. 
Soap just rolls his eyes. 
“Didn’t know you danced,” Gaz said, lifting his drink to his lips. He tries to ignore the way your eyes follow the movement, or how it takes you a few seconds longer than usual to respond. 
“Mhm. Did it with my sister for a while. Wasn’t very good, unfortunately.” Gaz nods, humming. 
“When’d you quit?” He asks, pretending to swirl his drink around in the glass. 
You eye him suspiciously, trying to blink through the haze the alcohol has made in your mind. “Few years back, round the same time I enlisted.” 
Gaz nodded. It felt wrong, using you for information like this. But this had become more than just some challenge for him, it was genuine curiosity. Like there was a constant itch in the back of his mind that he couldn’t get to die down unless he got some answers. 
Usually, Ghost was the tech person. He would be the one to hack cameras, snoop on people, be the physical stalker. The problem they all ran into, though, is that a lot of your life was online. You were the youngest of them all, younger than Gaz even, and while they gave you shit for it, it meant you were way more online than they were. 
Because of that, they couldn’t rely on just your files to tell them everything. There was a world hidden somewhere in all your deleted accounts, messages encoded in emails and photos from after your graduation. Piecing them together was too big of a job for one man alone, especially men of their age. 
So they didn’t do it alone. 
It took your near death experience to make grown ass men to realize how fucking stupid they were being about this. Simon said it himself, the 141 didn’t operate by itself. It was a team. They were a team. They did things together, which meant they would get  their answers together. It also meant they would get to share you at the same time, but that wasn’t a foreign concept to them. 
And none of them really had an issue sharing with each other. 
That night, after everyone else had turned in , Gaz got to work. He used the best lead of you he had (your beginning of the year photo for Junior year, taken just before everything disappeared) and worked his way down. He flew through all of your files, finding names, dates and addresses. Long ago he figured out that numbers were the most important thing in a task like this. Without them you could get nowhere. He followed paths he had taken dozens of times, different directions to get to the same conclusion. There wasn’t anything there. Just like you predicted, it all stopped at your junior year. 
This time, though, that wasn’t what he was looking for. 
Once he hit that wall again, He went back and retraced his steps. He included references to clubs in his search, finding every extra circular at your school and looking into their history. Nothing came up for a long, long time. 
It was nearly sunrise before he found something. Normal people would have seen this and not batted an eye, but Gaz was too keen in his research to miss it. 
In an article about your schools dance team, just a few months before graduation two names glared out on the screen at him. Your name, and someone else’s who rhymed quite well with yours. The gears spun in his head, and he laughed to himself in pure shock.
They were on a a wild goose chase for the wrong person. 
It explained why he was physically unable to find anything on you, because he wasn’t even looking for you in the first damn place. He was tracking down your sister. 
He took the two names and pasted them into his system, hitting enter on the keyboard. 
Over three hundred search results came up, but only one caught his eye. 
“Local College student gets killed in school shooting, family is left devastated.”
He might have to do a bit more digging than he thought. 
Finding the photos was the easy part. Now that he knew who you were, they were everywhere. You really had gotten up to a lot behind their backs, you had at least tried out every club once and volunteered everywhere in your damn state. It was impressive that you managed to switch personalities so quickly, going from someone so loud and outgoing to… well, you. He knew hiding this much information wasn’t easy, having to go under an alias a few times to escape capture taught him that the hard way. But you did it with ease, as if you…
Oh. 
Oh.
He had to tell Price.
AN: if you can spot the audio reference and tell me which audio it comes from, who made it and give me a time stamp i’ll post the next chapter early (as in; as soon as i see the ask/comment)
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daegutowns · 9 months ago
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your enhypen hogwarts boyfriend 
tags: hogwarts au, gn!reader, this is the grind rn
gryffindor: heeseung, niki 
heeseung: quidditch team chaser 
secretly (not so secretly) an attention seeker
please expect to hype him up and fawn over him on quidditch match days -- especially on matches with slytherin (he always has a bet with jay) 
“babe i need you to boo jay if he ever comes near you.” 
and he is so serious about this 
mcgonagall claims she doesn’t like him but he’s just lucky that he’s actually really good at quidditch (bc his transfiguration grades are not sexy) 
excels in defense against the dark arts AND potions but snape hates him 
he swears up and down he didn’t do anything this time to get detention but you know better. and he’s always begging the captain to not kick him off
“please, you know snape wants my left buttcheek!” 
talks shit before the match (especially to jay) and then feigns innocence if he’s asked about it 
this is the result of years of watching quidditch matches with his dad (their favorite team is the montrose magpies -- and he WILL badmouth puddlemere united if that team is mentioned) 
likes to sleep next to you in the library after practice while you study 
riki: quidditch team beater  
rebellious, passionate, and playful -- riki is a gryffindor through and through
always getting caught up in pranks. denies ever being inside zonko’s even though that’s the first place he goes in hogsmeade 
like okay ????
claims mrs. norris (filch’s cat) is best friends with him, but he has no real way of proving this 
shy about pda because of his friends, so he likes meeting up with you in secret and passing you notes in class 
…until he gets caught and has to read them out loud
then he decides that fuck it! it’s better to just air it out anyways. not his problem what they find disgusting! 
straight up livin’ that thug life y’all #getrekt
lowkey getting brainwashed by heeseung (go magpies!) 
makes up all his dreams for his divination dream journal but always makes it about you so he can pretend to be offended if someone says it’s fake
hufflepuff: sunghoon, jungwon 
sunghoon: prefect (head boy) 
this hard-working and kind-hearted boy is a true hufflepuff through and through
everyone thought by his looks that he’d either be in slytherin or ravenclaw, but it’s more obvious when he opens his mouth 
he’s kind of like cedric diggory -- super well-liked, popular, good-looking, and smart
he’s got all the hufflepuff girls and gays giggling around him n shit 
“first years follow me to the common room” and the new hufflepuffs are tripping over their feet trying to ask him questions 
it’s okay because he only has eyes for you <3 
haha jk sometimes he’ll tease you and say “are you jealous? you look jealous~” and then backtrack and say nevermind that he’s sorry and he doesn’t actually know what other people look like. in fact he only knows one name and it’s yours. 
he doesn’t really need to be doing all that but it’s fun messing with him 
goes around humbly (not so humbly) bragging about you until he gets smacked by snape for messing around during (but that doesn’t stop him) 
he likes taking you to cheesy date spots, like madam puddifoot’s tea shop or the covered walkway near spintwitches sporting needs where everyone else had their first kisses 
jungwon: quidditch team seeker   
well-rounded, responsible, and dependable -- these are all traits of a hufflepuff that describe jungwon perfectly 
to be honest, he’s really just here for the vibes
his favorite pastime is collecting chocolate frog cards 
(he is specifically looking for the gold and silver albus dumbledore cards that have been out of circulation for years)
he’s a very talented seeker, but everyone else’s praise doesnt mean anything. he needs YOUR praise specifically and will pretend to not like it just so he can hear it more (but you know better!) 
please help him study… he is definitely getting that quidditch scouting from a professional team but jungwon said he might get a T (troll) in history of magic 
he has a black cat named dooly that terrorizes him before he sleeps
you like dragging him to the kitchens to eat chocolate snacks with him before bed, but he gets nervous sneaking out sometimes
likes sitting underneath the big willow tree near the black lake with his head in your lap. please run your hands through his hair! 
ravenclaw: jake 
jake: quidditch team beater  
everyone really would’ve expected that he would’ve been in either gryffindor or hufflepuff just based on personality alone 
the sorting gave him a choice, and he just went with the house that had more of his friends that he made on the train 
he loves it when you show up to practice because now it’s even more awesome! now even more of his favorite people are in the same place
“babe look at this!” while he does a flip ??? 
if he falls off, now both you AND the rest of his team can laugh at him 
loves it even more if you show up to his games fully decked out (beyond his imagination) in his house colors, even if that’s not your house
he never expects this from you but he’s soooo happy when it happens that it motivates you to keep doing it 
self-declared next quidditch captain (and flitwick will give it to him) 
he’ll even tutor you in transfigurations (his best subject) for kisses, because despite being an athlete, he���s also got good grades???? sometimes god has favorites 
“if you think i’m a cool boyfriend, give me a kiss” 
his favorite type of date is sneaking out to the kitchens with you and sharing a pudding cake
slytherin: jay, sunoo
jay: quidditch team keeper  
unsurprisingly, jay comes from a long line of other slytherins
he’s pretty laidback compared to the rest of his family, but always insists that you go with him to family functions (because “baby they’re too boring without you!”) 
you two always end up at the snacks table gossiping with his cool cousins anyways 
flexes by buying you all your snacks on the train + of course covers all the dates 
pretty popular within slytherin house, but only because he’s good at quidditch and also has pretty good grades (in everything except herbology) 
hates the keeper pickup lines and jokes but likes 
lined up to be the next captain! 
claims he wants to work for the ministry of magic’s department of mysteries
“i got an image to keep”
whatever you say babygirl ^^
expects to be holding hands whenever you’re walking the halls with him
requires a good luck kiss before every quidditch match
sunoo: prefect 
a lot of people expected sunoo to get into hufflepuff! he defies expectations 
seriously, he made a name for himself within the house
with as ambitious as he is, it’s not that surprising to see that someone has confident and charming as him is in slytherin 
he’s someone with friends in every house, probably in every year too
he’s got an “in” with every club on hogwarts campus, so take your pick bae. the world’s your oyster! 
he flexes like jay, but instead of galleons, he takes you to restricted areas of campus using his prefect badge 
would actually help you break the rules if you wanted to
“you want to break in where?! okay, wait, let me get--” 
likes it when you compliment his thoughtfulness or talent in these areas 
his best subject is charms ;) 
his favorite pastime is watching quidditch practices with you, but all you do is yap together
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cyb-by-lang · 19 days ago
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Cascade
Someone a while ago asked me about what Kei's school life in Shell Game would've been like if she was a kid in 1-A as opposed to 1-C, so here's some noodlin'.
(Kei replaces Mineta's slot because I don't feel like dealing with him.)
The facet of being a UA student that bothered Kei the most (immediately) was the scrutiny. The celebrity. The total inability to fold herself and her flat expression and sleep deprivation back into the comforting anonymity of a world without widespread cell phone usage. Every other rando in Japan—arguably the world—knew the school’s reputation and its uniform. The more invested enthusiasts knew the names and faces of all the hero kids in each year and ranked them based on their apparent promise. Kei’s entire being retreated from the spotlight as though possessed by a cockroach. 
The runner-up of annoyances was being trapped in high school again. She’d done her time one life ago and resented that the experience just pigeonholed her into bilingual missions now. But explaining that to Sensei wasn’t on the table, so away she went. 
In the end, though, there was a small silver lining, as thin as cobweb. Unlike general education students, the two heroics-focused classes had occasional permission to use their Quirks to achieve their goals. Such as winning a sports contest between students, but still. It was something. 
“Gekkō. Your turn.” 
Kei jolted back to life like the engine of a forty-year-old car, covering her mouth with one hand as she yawned. Sure, Bakugō’s big boom ball throw had startled her awake, but she’d slept like total garbage last night. The stress from anticipating a new development in any mission made staying asleep an impossibility. 
So she’d kind of sleepwalked through the first few rounds of fitness tests. A lot of the other students’ Quirks didn’t help with their performances—exemplified by the invisible girl and the boy with electric powers—and so Kei didn’t meaningfully stand out. It helped that the students with physical Quirks usually really excelled at very specific tasks, but were dead average elsewhere. Kei barely needed to work to keep in the middle of the pack, only using her water manipulation for effect. 
And now everyone was looking at her. 
Dammit, Kei thought. She rolled to her feet with a little huff and made her way off the sideline with the air of a two-toed sloth dragged out for a quirky sports movie. 
“Do you need a reminder of what the rules are?” Aizawa asked, his voice as dead as Kei sort of wished she could be in this exact moment. 
“No, Aizawa-sensei,” Kei replied as she passed him. An instant later, she caught the tracker-equipped softball without looking, thought it had been thrown at her head. Not like it would have done any damage even if it made contact.
“Then quit wasting our time.” 
Kei didn’t even remember her placement during the UA entrance exam, but this still felt targeted. The numbers didn’t matter. She’d already known she was in, so the only consideration left was keeping the extent of her powers under wraps.  
It wasn’t like Kei didn’t get why Aizawa “Eraserhead” Shōta hated her presence in the class. Her enrollment in UA was basically anathema to the entire purpose of the program. Sensei and the principal couldn’t just cut the guy entirely out of the loop without causing Kei logistical problems when it came to doing her job. At the very least, an uninformed teacher might ask questions when Kei inevitably ran out of the classroom to deal with some crisis. Just because Aizawa looked like he wouldn’t care if his students fell down an open manhole cover, but that was the trouble with judging by appearances alone. 
I could take over the moment it leaves your hands.
Be my guest. 
Kei tossed the ball in the air, clapped her hands together, and summoned a blob of water that expanded in sync with her hands as she pulled them apart. When the falling softball landed amid the watermelon-sized sphere, it warped briefly into an image of Isobu’s curled-up shell before stabilizing. That was a telltale sign even to people without worthwhile chakra detection abilities—as long as they knew. 
So, basically Aizawa. Kei didn’t need to look in his direction to feel his glare.
There we are. Isobu’s power reached forward to engulf the brand new source of ammunition. 
Then the blob, the captive softball, and some simulacrum of Kei’s dreams shot off into the void. Only the thinnest possible thread of water connected Isobu’s new toy to Kei’s index fingers. Kei and the a couple of her classmates watched its erratic balloon-like course until, inevitably, the thread snapped. 
Eventually, there was a beep from Aizawa’s phone. “Five hundred and fifteen meters.” 
Kei rubbed at her eyes, already done with the entire affair. At least this data might be useful for Kei and Isobu’s future adventures in mass hydrokinesis. Perhaps Isobu’s range would be even larger if they added more of his chakra. Running those experiments would have to wait for another day, though. 
“Next,” said Aizawa. Going by the way a couple of students jumped, the next contestant was already on deck and suffering from stage fright. 
Kei wandered out of the chalk with barely any uptick in energy levels. She even yawned again. If the teacher wanted her out of the way faster, he could damn well throw her out.
But because this mission clearly wanted to establish the kind of pattern embodied by a combat deployment—boredom followed by intense spikes of activity, and then more boredom—Kei didn’t get a chance to nap. She found herself blinking away the drowsiness to the sound of Aizawa verbally ripping a kid to shreds. 
And it wasn’t Kei’s fault. Or even related to her. 
Novel.
While Kei had sat down and read brief profiles on all of her classmates on the Saturday before the term started, their names occasionally slipped her mind despite how painfully on-the-nose they could be. She’d get that data into her head later; for now, all Kei needed was a list of powers. 
Part of the reason Midoriya (today’s sacrifice) stuck out to her was how his name didn’t contain even a hint of his Quirk—just like hers didn’t. Because she didn’t have one. Going off the logic displayed by his classmates’ parents and their naming choices, Midoriya’s personal name should have had something to do with turning his own skeleton into dust. 
With his capture weapon and hair floating like the entire scene was underwater, Aizawa laid out everything wrong with the nervous kid’s approach to the ball toss. Given that the test in question was literally throwing a softball and this kid tended to hover around the middle of the pack, maybe he’d been planning to use his hyper-destructive Quirk to finally get an edge. Like any kid sitting through someone else getting shouted at by a teacher, Kei pretended not to hear the specifics.
It was still sort of difficult not to, even with her classmates trying to build a small reservoir of side chatter to insulate themselves.
There was a lot in Aizawa’s lecture about “basic competence” and paraphrased warnings about not breaking all the bones in his body. Because, well, someone who did that would probably need to be carried off a battlefield on a stretcher if not in a body bag.
“With your power,” Aizawa was saying, his voice as flat and cold as an executioner’s blade, “you can’t become a hero.” 
Midoriya’s expression said he knew damn well what was at stake now. If he couldn’t figure out how to throw a ball without laying himself out flat, he was screwed. 
The real question was if breaking bones was the prerequisite to accessing that monstrous strength, or just a shitty side effect of having no control? If it was the former, the first time the kid fell off a jungle gym or crashed his bike should have made the news along with a crater. 
While the other students consulted among themselves whether they’d ever heard of Eraserhead before—which disengaged Kei even further from the conversation in favor of naptime—Aizawa withdrew from the chalk circle to let Midoriya figure his shit out. He’d either fly or fucking die. 
Aizawa probably didn’t care which. At least, not out loud. Better that this catastrophic failure happened in school and not in the field with lives on the line.
Kei shaded her eyes and awaited some conclusive result.
Midoriya didn’t disappoint; one colossal BANG later, the softball was rocketing off into the distance with a smoke trail marking its trajectory. But unlike the utter travesty that characterized his entrance exam footage, the kid that turned to face the group did so with all limbs intact. He’d destroyed only one finger in the process of setting off his Quirk this time.
Kei frowned while the other students cheered. Aizawa, too, looked excited to find improvement so close on the heels of his first sharp criticism. 
Sure, Blasty McSplode had a problem with Midoriya’s (qualified and still bone-breaky) success and then needed to be wrestled into submission for being a loud jackass literally a foot in front of the teacher, but that wasn’t Kei’s problem. Or, at least, his attitude wasn’t an interesting problem for Kei to puzzle over. 
Midoriya’s, though… There’s something wrong here.
Hm?
I don’t think his Quirk requires him to destroy himself to use it. If it did, he should’ve figured out how to minimize the damage way before he got here. Kei pressed her curled fingers against her lower lip as she thought. Damn, I usually just shrug off questions like this… 
But this secret may affect your risk assessment process when dealing with all of these humans. 
Maybe. But hell if it’s not a personal question. “Hey, what’s the deal with your Quirk totally pulverizing your vulnerable teenage skeleton every time I’ve seen it used?” That’ll go over well. 
“Gekkō,” said Aizawa, interrupting Kei’s thoughts with more school nonsense. He’d apparently picked her out as a zoned-out straggler. “Finish your tests. Side-hops and grip test, go.”
Kei sighed internally and trotted off to a different part of the field.
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bobohu4eva · 4 months ago
Text
Golden
Part 1/2
Characters: Reader x Baekhyun
Genre: College AU, Baekhyun as an adorable art student and campus heartthrob, shy OC, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, angst, eventual smut
WC: 8.3k
Warnings: Harassment, alcohol consumption
Masterlist
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The streets of Seoul set your mind ablaze in all their bright, manicured chaos.
 It had been three years since your first time in the city, but again it sucked you right in without as much as a glimpse of hesitation. Not unlike you with a bowl of your favorite ramyun.
The American midwest had its charms, if you looked hard enough, but your eyes were getting tired. The city had always been more your speed, and Seoul was, in your mind, the absolute best there was. When the opportunity finally came to spend your last year of college at Korea University you eagerly took it. 
No matter the area, the time of day, or one's specific interests, there was always a good chance that something uniquely enticing was just around the corner, waiting to be discovered. Getting bored wasn’t an option, even for those who might crave it every now and then. 
Patience, like boredom, was not on the menu in Seoul either. Ppalli-ppalli is what they call it, ‘quickly-quickly, the culture that drives the city to cater perfectly to the needs of those as antsy, or really just anxious, as yourself. It’s hard to overthink for hours when there is so much constantly changing and happening around you, demanding your attention. You found that profoundly comforting. 
Independence had always been a strength of yours, so the first several weeks flew by, but by the third week, and then the fourth, even you got a little lonely. 
After a few years studying the language, your Korean was decent. Passable. But fluent, you were not. Ordering in restaurants, reading directions and street signs, that was no problem, but having to make any kind of meaningful conversation was humbling, to say the least. 
It was a relief to finally get a roommate, Heejin, another senior at the university. She was thrilled to practice her English with you, and you your Korean with her. 
Before you knew it the semester was starting, and right on your first day of classes, you noticed him. Surrounded by a large group of friends all laughing together, he was at the center in all his beauty. 
It would be hard not to notice him, really, given his clothing. They were unusually colorful, in contrast to the muted neutrals most Koreans favor, and were often dotted with what looked like paint stains, mainly shades of yellow and gold. In the crowded lecture hall, he was a sliver of sunlight against the sea of black, brown, and gray. 
He wore round glasses, which framed kind, puppy-like eyes the color of your favorite chocolate. The dark curls of his hair were perfectly fluffy, and his lips perfectly pink. Moles and freckles decorated his nose and cheeks generously.
You struggled not to stare. He was just so pretty. Especially when you saw him smile. Just the sight of him laughing at a joke you hadn’t even heard, brought a smile to your face. 
He was shining, glowing, radiating so much warmth you’d blissfully forgotten the still looming chill of early spring. 
“That’s Baekhyun, he’s a studio arts major, pretty much every girl I know has a crush on him. I get it, though, he is super cute, he seems really nice, too, though I don’t really know him myself.” Heejin told you, when you asked about him that same evening.
Against your better judgment, or any rational thought, really, you let yourself be drawn to him, taking your seat the next day in the row directly in front of his. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you couldn’t help it, listening in on him and his friends' conversations before class started. He was whitty, charming, and effortlessly funny, though he never made jokes at anyone else’s expense, like his friends did. He seemed like a genuinely sweet guy, just like your roommate had said. And basically every girl on campus saw it too, along with how devastatingly cute he was. 
Despite feeling relatively confident in the subject matter of all your classes, you still did your best to fade into the background and avoid being called on by the professors. Trying to sound smart and confident wasn’t something your Korean skills (or still slightly fragile psyche) were up to yet.
But as fate would have it, you couldn’t avoid talking in class forever. At the end of the second week, during your last class of the day, you were called on to answer something pretty simple, yet you still ended up stumbling over your words, sounding awkward at best. 
You easily picked up on the snide comments and snickers coming from the girls behind you. Back home you would’ve thrown her a mean side eye at the very least, but now you just kept your head down. Making enemies so early on here couldn’t be a good idea. Not only that, but you knew Baekhyun would be witness to all of it. 
“Sumin, it took you three tries to pass elementary English, talking about someone else’s language skills is wild.” 
His voice was just as lovely as the rest of him, so you didn’t even have to turn around to be sure who’d said it, but you still did. There was a small reassuring smile on his lips, and a pout on hers. He’d said it so casually, like it was nothing, but it definitely meant a hell of a lot to you. 
She was gorgeous, and you’d wondered in the past if there was something going on between them. But Baekhyun didn't appear all that impressed with her, at least not the way she clearly was with him. 
You kept replaying it in your mind, until finally class was over, and you headed quickly towards the door, worried you’d be hearing more rude comments. 
“Hey! Y/n, right?” 
“Huh?” Too shocked to fully react, you spun around to see him walking straight towards you. 
“I’m Baekhyun, sorry about my friend earlier. You’re an exchange student, right?” His English was nearly perfect, the slight accent he had making him sound even more endearing. 
“Yeah… Thank you, by the way. How do you know my name?” 
“Well, you do kind of stand out. In a good way though.” 
He was grinning, looking gorgeous as ever, even in a simple red tshirt and jeans, dotted with the usual colorful specks of paint. Now that he was standing so close to you, you got a good idea of how tall he was, and although he wasn’t the biggest, most muscular guy you’d ever seen, his shoulders were surprisingly broad, and his arms looked sturdy. As your eyes stayed glued to his form, your mind wandered off, thinking about how lovely it must feel to get a hug from him. 
It occurred to you then that he must’ve asked someone about you, the same way you’d asked about him. 
“I do?” You asked, starting to make your way towards the building’s exit. 
“Well, yeah, there are other foreigners going here too of course, but I’m sure most of them don’t get as much attention as you.” 
You blushed, not wanting to read into it too deeply, but you wondered if that was his way of telling you that he thought you were cute. 
“I don’t know about that…” 
“So, where are you headed now?” He asked, holding the door as you both left the building. 
“Back to my dorm, that was my last class of the day.” 
“Same, can I walk with you?”
“Sure, it’s a little far though.” 
He shrugged, “I don't mind.” 
As he accompanied you across campus, you couldn’t help but wonder why he was being so nice. He seemed like a nice person, of course, but he didn’t know you at all. You weren’t even an artsy type like he was. 
“You’re an art student, right? Is that why some of your clothes have paint on them?”
He nodded, a big beautiful smile on his face. “My favorite is oil paints, and they stain like crazy so now I just let it happen, I kinda like the way it looks.” 
“I like it too.” 
“Yeah? Maybe I could paint on your clothes too sometime.” 
You laughed, shaking your head. “I don’t think I could pull it off.” 
“What? Of course you could, if I can then you definitely can.” He teased, swaying slightly as he took his next step, letting his shoulder brush your own. 
It was troublingly easy for him to make you blush, and you hoped he didn’t notice just how flustered he was making you, without even really doing anything. 
“What about you? What's your major?” 
“International business, I've wanted to move here for years, and that major was recommended to me for this exchange program.” 
“Well, I'm glad you finally made it.” He grinned, warm and lovely, and if you hadn’t known better, you might’ve thought that he was flirting with you. “You're from America, right?” 
You nodded. 
“What made you want to move to Korea?” 
“My favorite professor back in the states was Korean, she told me that she thought I would do well here, and introduced me to the culture, the language, all of it. I eventually came here for a week-long spring break thing, and ended up liking it a lot.” 
Even from the outer echelons of your gaze, his smile was still bright as ever, those beautiful kind eyes fixated on you with intent. You couldn’t look back at him, not yet, your fragile heart needed time. He wondered why the architecture of the surrounding buildings suddenly became of such keen interest to you.  
“What about you? Why art?” 
He shrugged, “I've always been the creative type, ever since I was a kid. I can’t really imagine doing anything else at this point.” 
“I'd love to see some of your work, if you'd be willing to show me.” 
“Of course!” His face lit up even more, somehow, and he immediately pulled out his phone, opening up a photo album of his recent projects and handing it to you. 
You assumed he’d be pretty good just based on how popular he was, but when you got a good look at some of his work, it stopped you dead in your tracks. You froze, swiping through some of the pictures, speechless. 
“Do you like them?” 
You let out a short laugh, more in disbelief than anything else. “Are you kidding? These are amazing, you’re so talented.” 
Most of his paintings were dreamlike scenes bathed in yellow and gold, bright shapes and colors coming through in the most beautiful ways, creating so much atmosphere and movement, even just through the screen of his phone. They all depicted people, mostly women, just going about their normal lives, but the colorful and abstract nature of his style made it all so much more alluring to look at. Without a doubt, he had a real gift. 
He just shrugged, “I do my best.” 
You were a little disappointed to reach your dorm so soon, and have to tell him goodbye, though he assured you he would see you in class. For the first time, you actually looked forward to it, the promise of seeing him and his wonderful smile again making all of your previous uncertainty melt into comparative irrelevance. 
~
When the next class period came around, you’d expected to hear him sit down behind you with the rest of his friends. You did hear his friends sit down, talking among themselves, but he walked right past them, sitting down next to you instead. 
He started asking you about the homework, totally casual, and you had to act like you weren’t internally screaming the entire time. You acted as normal as you could, all the while feeling Sumin’s eyes like sharpened pencils stabbing into the back of your skull.
Eventually class started, and that took your mind off things at least a little, but as soon as the professor dismissed everyone Baekhyun was once again asking if he could walk you home, and of course, you agreed. 
An awkward silence filled the air as you tried to find something to talk about, but just having him there next to you made you so embarrassingly shy, you could hardly think straight. As he held the door for you, that disgustingly sweet fluttering sensation filled your belly, and while familiar, you’d never experienced it to such a degree. 
“Do you have a favorite painter?” You eventually blurted out. It was the first thing that came to mind, and to your relief, he seemed excited to answer. 
“Yeah! I mean, there are a ton that I love, but the one I’m most inspired by in my own work is Gustav Klimt, the way he combines art nouveau, with more classical and Japanese influences, it's so cool. I try to do something similar, but with a more Korean flair. He was really controversial during his time too, but he didn’t care and just did what he liked anyway.” 
“Why was he controversial?” 
“Well…” He cleared his throat, and you swore, for a second, it looked like he was blushing. For once, he wasn’t looking at you, seemingly avoiding eye contact himself. “Many of his really famous pieces are of women, usually without clothes on. There’s a lot of symbolism around sexuality and eroticism, so early 20th century Austria labeled his work as pornographic.” 
“Oh?” 
“Well it was the 1910’s!” He replied, maybe a little too quickly, “One rogue boob was enough to thoroughly scandalize them, you know what I mean, right?” 
You smiled, comforted by the fact that he actually seemed to be the one getting flustered now. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Different time.” 
“He was ahead of his time, for sure. That's one of the things I love about him and his work.” 
He just kept gushing about the different pieces he liked best, showing them to you on his phone, talking about the different motifs and what it was about them that he loved. It was so sweet, his enthusiasm for it, and you took it all in happily.
You could listen to him talk about art all day long. You could see the sparkle in his eyes, the passion and excitement he had for it, and you were almost jealous of him, that he was so great at something that he loved so much. Sadly though, you soon made it back to your dorm again. However this time, when you turned to start walking up the steps, he stopped you. 
“Wait, um, if you wouldn’t mind, could I get your number?” 
You stared back at him for a minute, happy but surprised, before nodding. He handed you his phone and you added your contact, heart beating rapidly, trying your best not to look as excited as you felt. 
When you reached your room, you saw the first text from him, one of the paintings he’d shown you. It was the same colorful yet overwhelmingly golden color scheme you’d seen in his own work, and depicted a man kissing a woman on the cheek. The racing of your heart took several minutes to return to a more normal pace. 
~
As the semester went on, he always sat with you, and always walked you home. It took you another few weeks to really start opening up to him, but as you gradually did, his kind and warm demeanor made you feel at ease. He asked you about your family, your hobbies, whatever he could to get to know you better. You told him about your love for music, your favorite artists, and he always listened intently. He’d check out songs you recommended, and singers he’d never heard of, seeming as eager as you to get to meet again and discuss them more in depth. 
Even as you talked to him about more personal matters, he never made you feel judged, always keeping an open heart and mind. That was another thing about him that you grew to admire. 
You loved Seoul, and Korean culture, but learned that people could be more judgemental, and on the basis of quite superficial matters. Not only that, but these judgements were perfectly acceptable to express, adding an extra layer of pressure to everyday life. Baekhyun, however, didn’t partake in any of it. 
Despite how attractive, popular, and as you came to learn, wealthy, he was, he never talked down to anyone. Jokes of that sort, that were normal to basically all of his friends, he wouldn’t react to, noticing the way he’d steer the conversation away from such topics when they came up. 
He was accepting of everyone, regardless of their status, appearance, or various other factors. He was friends with basically everyone, too. As he’d walk with you he would always be greeting people left and right, giving everyone a smile and a friendly wave, never once ignoring someone or showing any condescension. He was just good. 
His kindness, as lovely as it was, unfortunately also made you realize how not special you were to him. It was simply in his nature to be kind, even to those who might not deserve it, or could get the wrong idea. It was obvious how many girls had crushes on him, and though it never contained any malicious intent, he flirted with basically all of them. It was just part of his good nature. When he could tell someone liked him, he liked to make them happy. He never purposely misled anyone, or got their hopes up, but you still saw it happen time and time again. He would compliment a girl, and she would get all flustered, just like you had, wondering if maybe he really did like her, only to be disappointed when he did the same to her friend. If he wasn’t such a goddamn sweetheart he probably would've been labeled a playboy long ago, but everyone could clearly see that he wasn’t like that. Sleeping around wasn’t something he seemed to do either, though he definitely could’ve if he wanted to.  
All of that being said, you still fell hard for him. It felt silly, being so infatuated and getting so flustered around him due to his sweet words, knowing that there wasn’t anything special about the way he treated you. He was that sweet to all of the girls, and you couldn’t even be mad at him for it, so you learned to hide how you felt. At least you wouldn’t end up looking like a fool that way. 
~
Walking to class in the mornings always felt like such a chore, especially ever since Baekhyun had started to accompany you on your way back home everyday. You missed his company, and it was usually still quite cold, too, something you hated. Getting to listen to music uninterrupted was the only part that brought you some solace. 
One morning was particularly stressful for you, having overslept the day before an exam, already late to the very necessary hour of studying you’d planned before going to your first class. 
You were walking quicker than usual, headphones on, focused on making it to the library. However none of that seemed to deter the guy who started walking alongside you, now talking at you, motioning for you to take your headphones off. 
Annoyed as you were, you didn’t want to be rude either. You took off the headphones, telling him, “Sorry, I’m kind of in a hurry.” 
He didn’t seem to care, and when you started putting your headphones back on, he grabbed them from you. 
You stared at him, clearly pissed off and in slight disbelief, but still, he just kept walking, now uncomfortably close to you. “I’m Jaeyong. I’ve seen you around, you’re really pretty. My dad basically owns this whole place, you know.” 
“Oh yeah?” You tried to take your headphones back, but he kept them out of reach. 
You’d seen him around campus too, surrounded by a posse of other rich kids, though they weren’t the kind Baekhyun associated with, and it was easy to see why. You immediately had a bad feeling about the guy. 
“Can I get your number? We should go out sometime, I only date foreign girls. You guys are way less stuck up than the girls here, more open minded.” 
Oh lord. You’d been warned about guys like him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Come on, don’t be a bitch. At least give me your number.” 
You ignored what he said, trying again to get ahold of your headphones, and he still refused to give them back. 
“You’d be lucky to go on a date with someone like me, you know.” 
“Sorry, but I’m not interested. Can I please get my headphones back now?” 
“What? You have a boyfriend or something?” 
He’d been following you long enough that you were already in front of the library, and you really didn’t want him to follow you inside. For your own sanity, but also to spare the other students the annoyance, knowing he likely still wouldn’t shut up. 
Unfortunately when you didn’t go inside, he ended up backing you up to the side of the building, blocking you into a corner. 
“You can get your headphones back if you agree to go on a date with me.” His face was so close to your own you could smell his breath, turning away from him, refusing to respond. “Come on Y/n. You know you want to.” 
The greasy smirk on his face made you feel sick. You didn’t remember ever giving him your name.
“I really need to go study.” 
“I said, don’t be a bitch. It would be really stupid of you to reject me.” He spat, a jarring change in his tone.
He was no longer smiling, either, clearly getting frustrated with you. Fear started to take over, and you decided you could get new headphones later, you just needed to get away. You tried to get past him, but his hand on your shoulder shoved you against the side of the building roughly, painfully, and panic quickly set in, tears forming in your eyes. He didn’t even seem to care that there were other people around, clearly confident nobody would bother to stop him. 
He was talking again, and you could hear the malice in his voice, though you were too scared to even really tell what he was saying anymore, cheeks now wet, repeating again and again to please just leave you alone. Your shoulder ached, still being held against the brick wall hard enough that you knew it would bruise. 
Your eyes were squeezed shut, shaking your head, and suddenly the hand on your shoulder was gone. You collapsed to the ground, only vaguely aware of the voices around you. 
There was a cacophony of “Leave her alone”, “Mind your business”, “Fuck off”, and more coming from only a few feet away but you just sat slumped against the wall, wishing it would all go away. 
The sudden touch from a pair of hands taking hold of your own made you jump. You finally opened your eyes again, and to your great relief, it wasn't the guy who’d been bothering you, it was Baekhyun. 
“Y/n? Are you okay?” 
A pair of concerned eyes met your own, feeling his thumbs as they softly ran across the backs of your hands. You stared back at him, dumbfounded, too stunned to speak. He was crouched down in front of you where you still sat against the wall, the other man nowhere to be seen. 
“Please say something.” 
“I- I don’t know.” 
You didn’t notice, but Baekhyun grew increasingly aware of the people starting to gather around. His grip on your hands tightened and he pulled you back up to your feet, disappearing into the library with you. He made his way into the first empty study room he could find, his hand still firmly holding your own. 
Now that you knew you were actually safe the adrenaline finally began to wear off. Baekhyun pulled out a chair for you to sit, so you did, and he soon followed. He moved so he was facing you instead of the table, and you tried to do the same, but when you braced yourself against the table and put even the slightest pressure on it, pain shot up towards your shoulder, making you wince. 
He caught on right away, moving your chair for you. 
“Are you hurt?” 
Embarrassment slowly took hold now that you’d come to realize the gravity of the situation. As much as you didn’t want him to worry about you, you knew you couldn’t just lie, either. 
“It isn’t too bad, I’ll be okay.” You were avoiding his eyes, growing more and more shy by the second. “You should get to class, I need to study anyway.” 
“What?” 
The softness and confusion in his voice pierced through your heart, even with only that one word. He was moving closer, and you hadn't even realized that you were still crying, not until his thumb began to gently wipe your tears away. 
You were painfully aware of the rapid increase in your heart rate, as well as the redness spreading across your cheeks. He was so close now, his hands delicate on your face, looking at you with those beautiful brown eyes swimming with unease, still so worried about you.
His eyes moved to your shoulder, and his hand to the collar of your sweater.
“Can I..?” 
You nodded, turning that side of your body towards him, and he slowly moved the fabric aside. 
Seeing how his eyes widened, you looked down, and saw the blue and purple bruises for yourself. 
“You are hurt. Let's get you to a nurse.” He said as he stood, but you stayed seated. 
“Baekhyun, it's ok, I can go by myself later, you don't have to do all this.” 
“Yeah, I do. I want to help.” He said, and held out his hand, beckoning you to get up and go with him. His eyes met yours, holding your gaze with intent. You couldn’t say no to him, not when he looked at you like that. His hand was warm when you finally took it, gratefully accepting his kindness, bashful as you were. 
His hand stayed holding yours the entire way to the health services building. It wasn't far, but you still noticed the looks you got, especially from other girls. 
You assumed that Baekhyun would leave for class once he dropped you off, but he didn't. He took a seat with you as you waited for your name to be called, and soon enough, you were being led down the hallway, with him still by your side. 
“Sorry, your boyfriend can't come in the room with you.” Said the nurse, and you and Baekhyun exchanged nervous glances, though neither said anything to correct her.. 
He sat himself down in a nearby chair to wait, and you followed the nurse into the room. When you returned, he still wore that same nervous expression, asking, “How bad is it?” 
His sweetness brought a long overdue smile to your face. “Not bad.” You said, and pulled your sweater aside to show him the tape and bandages. “No heavy lifting for a few weeks, and I should try not to move it too much, but nothing serious.” 
Finally, you saw him ease up a bit, showing you a small smile as well. “Can I walk you to class?” 
You nodded, and he was once again by your side as you headed across campus, though this time without his hand holding yours. As much as you tried to deny it, you missed the feeling. Once or twice you felt his hand brush up against your own, and you wondered if he was thinking the same thing, but you knew you shouldn’t get caught up in those kinds of thoughts. 
“I don’t want to intrude, but if you’d like- I mean, if it would make you feel more comfortable, I could walk with you in the mornings, too, and between classes.”
As he said it his eyes were fixed on his hands, fidgeting with a ring he had on. 
“Are you sure? I don’t want to make you late, or be a bother.” 
“It’s no problem at all! Really, I think I would also feel better, just knowing that you’re safe.” 
“Oh..I would like that, yeah.” You found yourself looking down at the pavement, blushing, mind once again wandering off, the sickly sweet feeling fluttering within you. When you turned onto a larger road, you didn’t miss the way his hand gently took hold of your good shoulder, positioning himself between you and the street.
You went on to text him your class schedule, and he happily agreed to walk with you wherever you needed to go, though you still found it hard to believe that he wouldn’t end up making himself late as a result. He seemed so happy to do it, though, you didn’t question him any further. When you thought about the very real possibility of running into Jaeyong again, you were grateful you’d have Baekhyun by your side. 
He waved you goodbye when you got to class, and when it was over he was in the same spot, already waiting for you. 
It went on like that for the rest of the day, with him being his usual wonderful self. You could tell that he was trying his best to brighten your day after it started so badly, and you appreciated it more than you could put into words. During your last class, he was joking around more than usual, complimenting you more, making you smile every chance he got. When it was finally time to say goodbye for the day back at your dorm, you didn’t want to let him go.
The next morning, true to his word, he was there waiting for you when you walked outside. Instead of heading towards campus, though, he insisted you sit down on the closest bench, “I have a surprise for you.” He said. 
You played along, sitting down, following his directions to cover your eyes. He seemed to rummage around in his backpack for a minute, then set something down on your lap. 
He gently took hold of your wrists, moving your hands aside, and you finally got a good look at the surprise he’d prepared. 
It was a pair of headphones. The same model you’d had, but the newest version. Your old pair had been expensive enough, you almost couldn’t believe that he actually spent the money on a replacement. 
“Do you like it? I tried to get your old pair back yesterday, but that asshole broke them.” 
As much as you wanted to fight him and insist it was too much, he looked so excited, the smile on his beautiful face so pure, you just couldn’t bring yourself to do so. You grinned back at him, standing up to throw your arms around him without a second thought. The way he hugged you back was just as amazing as you’d always imagined it would be. He was warm, his chest and arms firm in the most comforting way, and even the way he smelled was addictive. His embrace was nothing short of perfect, and it took everything in you not to whine when it inevitably came to an end. 
“Thank you.”
“I know how much you love music, so I figured a nice pair of headphones would be pretty important to you.” 
“It is, this is so sweet, I don’t even know what to say.” 
He grinned, a teasing look on his face, “I wouldn’t mind another hug, if that’s easier.” 
Your smile told him more than enough. This time, he was the one to pull you in, and he held you even tighter, letting the embrace linger for a moment longer. You put the headphones in your backpack, and started walking to class. 
“You know I think that's the first time I've ever heard you call someone an asshole.” 
“Well he really, really is.” He laughed. “I couldn't stand him even before he did all that. It's not the first time he's done that kind of thing either, but nobody ever stops him since his family donates a ton of money to the university and is on the board of directors.” 
“That's awful..” 
“Yeah he's the worst. How's your shoulder?” 
“It only hurts if I put pressure on it or move it wrong, it’s really not too bad.”  
You didn't have the heart to tell him that it did kind of hurt when he hugged you, but you'd happily deal with the slight discomfort of it, if it meant you'd get to do it more often. 
He seemed to catch on anyway, only lightly holding onto your good side when you got to class and he told you goodbye. You wondered if he'd been thinking about holding you the same way you had been for weeks, now that he seemed so keen on it. 
Every time he was sweet to you, you felt yourself falling for him even harder. Just walking with him was enough to turn you into a giddy mess, gradually falling in love with every little part of him. Whenever you felt especially shy, you would ask him about different art projects he was working on and he would show you, going on and on about what inspired it, the different motifs and themes. His voice always calmed you down after a little while, but by then, you'd usually be home or at your next class. 
For days you thought about inviting him over, telling yourself you'd finally just do it, but always chickening out at the last minute. With how he treated you, you started to think that if he was alone with you, he might actually make a move. Maybe.
It wasn't until the end of midterms that you finally worked up the courage to invite him in. 
He asked what you were up to that evening, as he usually would, and you told him that you were just going to study for the exam the next day, in the class you shared with him. 
“Me too.” He said, looking at you with an expression you couldn't quite read as you got to the entrance of your dorm. 
There was a moment of awkward silence as you both stood there, not yet wanting to let him leave, and it seemed to you that he didn't want that either.
He moved closer, about to hug you goodbye when your hand landed on his shoulder. 
“Wait-”
He froze, swallowing, glancing nervously at the door. 
“If you’re just gonna study tonight too, would you want to maybe come inside and study together?” 
You braced yourself for the rejection, already dreading the excuse he would make, so it came as a surprise when he showed you a big dazzling grin. 
“That sounds great, sure.” 
You didn't miss Heejins face when he walked through the door with you, raising her eyebrows suggestively with a grin on her lips as soon as his back was turned. 
“Baekhyun, this is my roommate Heejin.” 
He smiled and greeted her, and you knew she'd be bombarding you with questions as soon as he was gone again.
You led him to your room, getting out your textbook and settling in on your bed, with him right next to you. 
Part of you hoped that he wouldn't be all that keen on actually studying and you'd be able to just talk and hang out. Maybe, he would even make a move. Unfortunately though, he really did want to study.
Even as you both studied in silence, he somehow still managed to make the room feel far hotter than it realistically was. You felt his eyes on you more often than seemed normal, and a few times you'd looked back up at him, but he'd always quickly returned his attention to his textbook. He kept inching closer to you as well, every brush of his shoulder or thigh against your own increasing your heart rate. 
You probably stole a few too many glances at him too, but he just kept drawing you in. Every detail of his face looked so kissable, your mind drifted away from your class work, wishing he was in your bed as more than just a friend. 
Every time he would turn a page his hands caught your attention. The mole on his thumb was so cute, you thought, just another part of him you found yourself becoming obsessed with. 
Hours went by in what felt like minutes, and when you both started yawning, you decided to call it a night. He hugged you again before leaving, only holding onto the side that wasn’t hurt. 
You were proud of yourself for actually taking the initiative and inviting him in. The way he’d kept looking up from the textbook at you, more often than felt normal, kept replaying in your mind. As much as you didn’t want to fall victim to his charm only to be disappointed later, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, he really did like you the same way you liked him. 
You couldn’t get him out of your head as you got ready for bed that night, and even as you tried to go to sleep, his soft smiles and the way his thigh brushed against your own consumed your thoughts. Your mind wandered off, wondering how he’d react if you made some kind of move on him, though you knew you’d never actually have the confidence to do so. The idea of him reciprocating any of it, kissing you, touching you, almost seemed like it would be worth it. However the possibility of rejection, of losing his friendship, was still too scary for you to consider it. 
It was well past midnight when you finally started dozing off, but the sound of your phone pulled you back to reality. For a second you considered just ignoring it until morning, but something inside told you not to. It must've been intuition, because when you did look, it turned out to be a text from him. 
Are you awake? 
You replied pretty much right away, 
Yeah, why?
Can I call?
Sure 
Fuck. Before you even had the chance to properly freak out, his caller ID was flashing across the screen. You picked up. 
“Hi, y/n. Sorry to call so late, I can't sleep.” 
“No worries, is everything okay?” 
“Yeah.. I think I just wanted to hear your voice.” 
“Oh…” 
“Is that weird to say?” 
“No! I mean, you could call me at any ungodly hour and I'd probably still pick up, to be honest.” 
The words slipped out before you had any real chance to think about what you were saying, and true as it was, you were still grateful he wasn't there to see how hard you were blushing. 
“Really? That's awfully tempting… I might end up keeping you up a lot, though. Heejin’s gonna hate me.”
You laughed as quietly as you could, “She has her own bedroom, she'll be fine.”  
“Thank you again, by the way, for inviting me in today.”
Your cheeks ached with how hard you were smiling, staring up at your ceiling with the phone pressed to your ear. 
“It's nice to have some company. I always get so distracted when I try to study by myself.” 
“Well, if I hadn't put it off for so long I probably would've just talked the whole time. I don't know if I'm really a good study partner, but if you want company again just let me know.” 
“Well next time don't procrastinate so much, dummy.” 
“So you're cool with me distracting you?” You could hear it in his voice, the way he grinned as he said it. 
“Maybe a little..”
A brief pause.
“Did you have a boyfriend, back in America?” 
The sudden question caught you off guard. 
“No.. why?” 
“Just wondering, I guess… I mean that must be hard, right? Having all your loved ones so far away.” 
You wondered if you should tell him, but decide it would be best to just be honest. 
“Okay that wasn’t entirely true. I was seeing someone, but he wasn’t a boyfriend and I knew I wanted to move here, so I ended it. I do miss my family and friends, but I still talk to them basically every day.”  
“What about when you graduate? Are you gonna move back?” 
“No,” You giggled, amused with how concerned he sounded, “Hopefully not, I like it here.” 
“Thank god” 
“Why? Would you miss me?” 
He was quiet for a moment, dropping the teasing tone and answering with surprising tenderness. 
“Of course I would miss you.” 
“Oh.. I would miss you too.” 
“Awww, cute.” You could practically see the shit-eating grin on his face. 
“Baekhyun!” 
“What?”
“You can be such a little shit, you know that?” 
“How am I a little shit?!” He gasped, though even over the phone, you could tell he was just being his usual dramatic self. 
“You get a kick out of fucking with me!” 
“I wasn’t fucking with you! I just genuinely think it's cute that you would miss me, that’s all.” 
“You can’t tell, but I’m rolling my eyes.” 
“What? I’m not allowed to think you’re cute?” 
There was a long pause, and you considered if you should really believe him. It wasn’t that you thought he was being dishonest, you just didn’t want to set yourself up for disappointment. 
“Baek…” 
“What?” His voice was once again soft, bringing with it a tightness in your chest. 
“Nothing.. It’s just late, I guess, I’m pretty tired.” 
For a while he was quiet. You would’ve given anything to know what was going through his head right then. 
“You’re right.. I’ll let you get some sleep. I’m glad you were still up when I texted you. Goodnight, Y/n.” 
“Goodnight.” 
As much as it pained you to hang up, inevitably staying up much much later now that he’d given you so much to think about, his flirting just wasn’t something you knew how to handle. Even if he really did like you, why didn’t he say something more than just playful flirting? It would be a dream if he actually confessed to you, but it was exactly that; just a dream. That was clear enough considering how openly he flirted with other girls around you. 
The next week he was his usual friendly self, walking with you, joking around, though you felt he’d pulled back a bit on the flirting. Part of you was relieved, since it turned you into a blubbering mess, but of course you also missed it. 
He did still keep calling you though, often late at night, when he said he couldn’t sleep. A few times, you’d both even passed out with the call still ongoing. He told you that talking to you calmed him down, and once, he’d even said that he wished you were there with him. You’d laid awake nearly all night, wondering how he’d meant it. Did he just want company? Did he hate sleeping alone? Or did he also want something more than just friendship with you? Either way, until he said something more concrete, you wouldn’t be the one to ask. 
It was during one of those late night phone calls that he invited you to a friend's birthday party. It was at a popular club near the university, and at first you weren’t going to attend, but he managed to talk you into it. After all, he would be there. Alcohol and music also meant dancing, and the possibility of dancing with him was enough to ensure that you’d be there too. 
He wasn’t able to walk you, since he had to help set everything up, so you ended up going alone. Which wasn’t a big deal, in theory, but as someone who’d always been on the more anxious side, it still made you uneasy. Seoul was very safe, that wasn't the problem, it was what would happen once you got there that worried you. Baekhyun was your only friend there. You didn’t want to be a bother and hang onto him all night, since the rest of the guests were basically strangers to you. 
When the time came you wore your favorite outfit, and stepped into the subway towards Hongdae with all the confidence you could muster. 
You arrived a little later than the time he’d told you, not wanting to seem overly eager, and to your relief he already seemed to be waiting for you. When he pulled you in for a hug it was tighter than usual, and the smell of tequila on him was pronounced. You quickly took a shot with him, wondering how many he’d already downed prior to your arrival. 
The club was still relatively empty, but that didn’t seem to bother Baekhyun as he pulled you towards the dance floor. You protested, and he pouted. 
“I don’t really dance, at least not when I’m this sober.” 
Seconds later another shot of tequila was pressed into your palm, and Baekhyun clinked his glass to yours, spilling a little, before you downed them in unison. Before you knew it, he had you on the dance floor. 
It was your first real night out in Seoul, and it left you every bit as breathless as you’d expected. Now happily drunk, you danced with him, back pressed to his chest, both his hands on your hips. 
Any worries you’d had about the amount of alcohol being consumed were long forgotten. You just let the music guide you, swimming in the euphoria of his hands on you and the closeness of your bodies. 
When his warmth behind you disappeared, you spun around to search for him. Without him as an anchor, everything became far more overwhelming. There were more people now, the crowded space growing warmer, almost suffocating, until he burst through with a grin on his gorgeous face and two cups of water in his hands. 
You hadn’t even realized how dearly you needed it until he’d appeared, grateful to drink something other than tequila. When one of your favorite songs began, and you beamed at him, and he beamed back at you even brighter. He remembered, of course he did. He knew all of your favorite music, because you’d told him so much about it. 
Now as you danced, you couldn’t keep your eyes off him. His hands gripped your waist, and your arms were slung around his neck, swaying to the familiar beat, getting lost in the drunken haze of it all. You realized then that he was staring at you just as intensely as you stared at him. 
This is what it’s all about, you thought to yourself. Letting go completely, enjoying the music you love, and sharing it all with your favorite person. His smile shone so brightly, and you mirrored it, unable to imagine a more perfect moment. 
You hardly realized it when he began to drag you off the dance floor. The song had long ended, and as the speakers became more distant, his voice became clear.  
“Y/n?” 
His eyes were bigger than ever as you looked up into them, in awe of their gentle downward slope, their deep brown color, the sincerity always behind them. 
“Baekhyun?” 
“I want to tell you something.” 
“Okay.” 
“I..” He trailed off, still looking at you, seeming to lose his train of thought. “You… You look really pretty, you always do, but especially right now.” 
It was nothing he hadn’t told you before, but it still hit you harder than ever. For a while you just held his gaze, until in a burst of blind, drunken, confidence, you moved closer. You stood on the tips of your toes, and ever so softly, you let your lips meet his blushing cheek. Before the confidence could wear off and you’d start to second guess yourself, you pulled him back onto the dance floor. 
You both downed a few more drinks, your attention devoted fully to each other. It was silly, now, to think of how worried you’d been about coming here. You hadn’t had this much fun in ages. 
Eventually you had to excuse yourself to find a bathroom. You stared into the mirror as you fixed your lip gloss, wondering if Baekhyun had a mark on his face, from where you’d kissed him earlier. You liked the idea of other girls knowing that you’d been there. 
You held onto the sink with an iron grip, closing your eyes for a second to steady yourself, all too aware of the way the room spun around you. Drinking this much wasn’t like you, but you were having so much fun, you didn’t care. 
The bright flashing lights and hoards of strangers were disorienting, especially in your intoxicated state. You ended up on a sort of balcony, overlooking the dance floor, trying to find Baekhyun somewhere among the crowd. 
When you finally spotted him, your heart sank to the pit of your stomach. He was dancing with Sumin. 
Everything that happened next felt like it went by in slow motion. 
Her eyes broke away from him, scanning the room, and briefly met yours. You saw her throw her arms around his neck. She kissed him, and he kissed her back. 
The music seemed to wane into a dull buzz, sudden dizziness causing you to stumble. It took you a minute to get your bearings again, but when you did, you pushed your way through the crowd and out onto the street without a second thought. 
It had started to rain. The smell of wet concrete was your only company as you walked towards home, a cruel, painful pit swallowing you from the inside. 
Baekhyun didn’t like you like that, of course he didn’t. He was like that with all the girls. 
Part 2
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fictional-orphan-smackdown · 6 months ago
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ROUND 4, MATCH 1!
All propaganda and what each competitor is from under the cut
The Baudelaire Orphans (A Series of Unfortunate Events)
The epitome of orphans, they’re the best
“I’m having a very terrible childhood right now”-Klaus
The story deadass begins with them being told that their parents died in a fire and that they're orphans now. They then bounce from guardian to guardian who tend to always meet a gruesome fate at the hands of Count Olaf. Not only have they been orphaned once, but have been orphaned multiple times and are called "The Baudelaire Orphans" by not only characters in the book but by the narrator himself. They're called "The Baudelaire Orphans" so many times that it might as well be a defining character trait of theirs, and honestly it sort've is. The series doesn't even end with them finding a home or guardians of any kind, it ends with the Baudelaires fate being completely ambiguous with them literally sailing away from the island they were stranded on in the final book (yeah this series is quite the journey, I highly suggest it). These poor three kids are probably the most orphaned kids of all time since their orphaned in a new way almost every book and they deserve at least one win in their unfortunate tale.
These guys are like the poster-child of orphaning, we open the series with them finding out that they're orphans and also have no access to their money so now they hop around from place to place from weirdo caretaker to another weird/crazy/murderous caretaker and it's all fun and games and murder and decieving and surviving and thriving and---my point is, these three are a wonderful trio of siblings who love and rely on one another through all their trials and tribulations.
Literally every single one of their problems come from being orphans. They’re continually referred to as orphans and the plot of the first half of the series is them being shuffled around to guardians.
These kids are so orphaned they never even get a found family outside themselves. At least most stories featuring orphaned kids see them fulfill some sorta epic destiny or have them find a new home or set of loved ones of sorts. The Baudelaires? They're thrown from one fucking failure of a home into the next, ignored, hunted, etc.. It's been years but like, even in the end, they still have to set sail alone. As individual characters, they aren't bad either. Violet's the dependable big sister who's knack for inventions comes in handy, Klaus is a well-read chap and Sunny is a lovely gremlin. They make a good trio.
Every single guardian they try to obtain throughout the series turns out to be someone who wants the large inheritance left for them and is willing to do whatever it takes to get it.
They basically fend for themselves the whole series when no adult will listern to them. The whole series is them being resourceful and clever the whole series despite the misfortune. Violet is a brilliant inventor, Klaus reads and collects knowledge, and Sunny learns to be a good cook over the series
their parents die tragically in a fire and then everything awful proceeds to happen to them
I haven't read these books in years but if any orphans deserve to win a smackdown it's these fools, they are constantly in the trenches in those books goddamn. Also that baby is like a shredder they have that on their side, I think that beast literally solo'd a snake?
(This one was specifically for Klaus, but I'll put it here still) He and his sisters being orphans is kinda the point. As in many books, it's the trigger for them to change lives and navigating hardships. The thing is, their hardships just grow worse and "unfortunate" (read "dreadful") events keep happening to them as they stick together instead of the story getting better. Klaus and Violet become Sunny's subtitute parents and get through their more and more miserable lives together keeping hope things would eventually get better
Arguably more famously orphaned than Bruce Wayne, if not for how their story happens while they’re orphaned children versus an orphaned adult. Definitely have the most famously tragic post-orphaning story. All three are incredibly brilliant in their own way, including the literal baby. Pursued relentlessly by the leader of a maniacal theater troupe and letdown by a slew of adults, so it’s all the more impressive how amazing they each turned out to be. Book series was so good it got turned into a pretty great movie and then a successful TV show years later. Also can’t forget how these three are orphaned repeatedly as the distant relatives who take them in get killed off in increasingly inventive manners. Let’s be honest, ain’t no characters out here orphaning like the Baudelaire orphans.
this series taught me so many cool words and phrases and I love each of the 3 main characters so much
Violet, Klaus, and Sunny are peddled from caretaker to caretaker over the course of 13 books, always being chased by the evil Count Olaf who wants to steal the Baudelaire fortune that the children are meant to inherit once they reach a certain age.
Spoilers ahead, the Baudelaires siblings story starts with them going from being the Baudelaire kids to the Baudelaire orphans, after their parents pass away in a mysterious fire. But they arent the only paternal figures that they lost, they go from tutor to tutor, almost all the good ones dying in front of them, and even the ones that survive at first their future is uncertain since the last time the kids see them they are blindfolded in a burnind building, and we never found out who make it out alive and who didnt. Even the main villian, Count Olaf their first tutor, and the only constant adult in their life after their parents death ends up dying in front of them. These three are orphans ten times over.
They are THE orphans. They have lost not only their parents but multiple guardians that they went to live with as well.
They're THE Orphans. The childhood book orphans we all read, Orphans Prime if you will. They lose their parents, every caregiver who's ever kind to them, then say fuck it and live on a deserted island on their own to raise themselves abd fully embrace their orphan status. On the island, they learn their parents survived the shipwreck then died again - double orphaning even.
OH MY SWEET LITTLE CHILDREN THAT FUELED MY LOVE FOR READING AND THE MACABRE Violet- Won her first of many invention competitions when she was five with an automatic rolling pin (comprised of a window shade and six pairs of roller skates). Extremely innovative and genius, foiled by her kindness to others. And she knows how to make a Molotov cocktail. Klaus- Absolute monster of a bibliophile, conducts research for fun, and has a photographic memory. He is known to want nothing more than "a good book, a comfy chair, and the warm glow of a reading lamp". He also is a Herman Melville fan, which is points for him in my book. Sunny- Most people know her only for her penchant for biting, but Sunny is a distinctly distinguished character. She has sharp wit (as long as you can read it through her babbles), her poker skills are phenomenal for a baby, and she has quite the knack for cooking! Also yeah, the teeth. She climbed an elevator shaft with them once.
They are constantly going through it, give these kids a break for real
Mina Murray/Harker (Dracula)
IIIIIIII Loveeeeeeee Herrrrrr, she's learning shorthand, she's the group scribe, she writes in her diary about her and lucy seeing cows on a walk, AND she's a train fiend. She's everything to me fr
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abiatackerman · 3 months ago
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The winter weekend nights
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Event: @levievent "Levi Month 24"
💕Day 21: Post-war: Children💕
Canon universe! Tea shop owner Levi X Doctor Reader! Postwar Levi! Sweet af! Fluff fluff and fluff!!! 1K Words!
💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕
The snows are falling uncontrollably and the wind is chilly enough to freeze anything. But the scene inside the Ackerman Tea shop is different. It's a duplex wooden cabin made very elegantly by the shop owner Levi Ackerman himself.
Rumours say that once he was a strong soldier and his wife was a great doctor in the same military section he used to work for. Some Marley people don't believe it because he is a man who uses a wheelchair and lost his eye and used to serve candies to kids once. Not to mention he serves the most splendid teas and looks so gentle and vulnerable now. Maybe that's just a rumour after all.
Well, the thing doesn't matter actually as long as he serves great teas and his wife works as a kind doctor to them. They don't have any problem with the Ackerman couple or their twins.
The most nosy woman in the neighborhood was thinking this as she looks outside through the window. The Ackerman Tea Shop is invisible due to the heavy rainfall. What's happening there?
As soon as the five year old girl finishes reading her script, you burst into her laughter. She tugs her hair behind her ear shyly, blushing. Her hair is just like you, her eyes dark brown which resembles yours. Though the other features are the same as the "Mysterious Tea Shop Owner Levi Ackerman".
"Mom, why are you laughing? Did I write something wrong?"
You daughter, Lily looks up at you and somehow you stop your laughter. She was currently reading the paragraph she wrote randomly. You both are snuggled up against each other under a warm blanket. You hug her and shaking your head, you caress Lilly's hair.
"Just look at your father and brother. They look alike."
Levi is sitting on the sofa which is settled just in front of you so you all are facing each other. He and his son are sharing another blanket, not cuddling but still sitting close enough to feel each other's warmth. Your son looks just like Levi, just the slightly round shaped face is from you. His behaviours are the same as Levi too. They're both sitting in the same position, hands crossed on chest, one leg is on another. They both even "Tch"s together.
"Stop copying me, dad!"
You son grumbles and Levi looks at him with disbelief.
"You're the one who's copying me, brat!"
Your son sticks his tongue at Levi as you and your daughter laugh at them. Both levi and your son glare at you two to stop laughing but that just fuels your laughter more.
"Ok ok... No arguments!!!! I'll prepare hot chocolate for everyone!!!! Now, kids.... Take your dad to the bedroom!!!!!"
You say and get up from the sofa, removing the blanket. You hiss due the slight cold but your daughter happily jumps and runs to bring her dad's wheelchair. Your son nods and takes off the blanket he and Levi's were wearing and starts to fold it.
Your kids are so well mannered that you can't help but feel proud all the time. Smiling, you walk towards the kitchen to prepare hot chocolate for your kids and tea for Levi. When you're done your kids have already taken Levi to his room and helped him to get into the bed. Your daughter is sitting on Levi's lap as Levi reads a story and your son is leaning on Levi's arm and trying to read with Levi too.
Normally your kids share different rooms but specifically on the winter weekends you four sleep together. It strengthens your bonds and all of you love it. During the cold weather when it's snowing heavily, all of you are on the huge bed, under the warm blankets, cuddling each other.... It's the most favourite moment of the Ackerman family.
"How many Marshmallows, mommy? I want 5!!!!!"
You son pouts and you chuckle, getting into the bed. Just like Levi, he's a mommy's boy.
"Both of you have gotten 5! No worries."
You hand them their hot chocolate and Levi his tea. You've taken a hot chocolate too since you prefer it more than tea.
"Dad's tea tastes horrible. I don't even know why he takes that thing."
Your son complains as Levi sighs. You decide to stay silent about it since it's a topic for Levi to explain.
"Unlike you brats, I didn't have the money to buy hot chocolates and sugar. So I've always been drinking only plain tea which your grandma used to make for me. My tongue has gotten used to the bitter feeling so I can't drink anything sweet."
Levi says calmly as he sips his tea again. Your daughter and son scoots closer to him and Levi's face softens.
"I wish I could meet grandma."
Your son says softly and leans his head on Levi's arm.
"Me too"
Your daughter says softly, sipping her hot chocolate messily.
"Me three"
You say, making the kids chuckle. Levi shakes his head, smiling softly. As all of you finish your drinks and you clean up all the cups, you all lay down on the bed together. Your son and daughter between Levi and you. Just like your son hugs tightly, your daughter hugs Levi in the same way. Slowly four of you start to fall asleep together with a content smile on your faces as the snow keeps falling heavily outside of the cozy "Ackerman" cottage.
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hazshit-hotel-hater · 4 months ago
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Sloppy Arackniss Redesign (?)
Before I get into this, clarifying, I SAY SLURS IN THIS!!! I CAN RECLAIM SAID SLURS!!! That is all thank you. I kiss boys and love men. Carry on.
Arackniss’s design is bound to change drastically sometime eventually but atm this is just what im doing. My main problem is how he just looks exactly like angel but black. I know thats originally what the whole thing is and they’re opposites but it’s just kinda boring now. Angel is an entirely different character at this point now and Arackniss’s design should accommodate the changes while still being a bit similar looking. I want him to still look very similar to Angel in specific ways like that stupidass headshape but not because of a sibling thing. Honestly when the two were alive they hardly looked anything alike I’m 100% sure of that. Antonio (Arackniss) had black hair and much broader features and was relatively tall and kind of bulky while Anthony & Molly had light blonde hair and more subtle and soft round features and basically one of the only ways to tell them apart aside from personality was Anthony having polycoria and having bloodshot eyes pretty often.
Arackniss hardly looks how he did when he was alive anymore and has taken on many more features of Angel because of his deep rooted rivalry with his brother. I assume hating your middle-child brother that literally got named after you only to have him overdose and kill himself before actually doing anything with his life is enough to stir up more than a little bit of inner turmoil. These guys probably beat each other up OFTEN. Antonio was the first born son and dealt with so much shit before these other guys even were born and when they did show up, Anthony was named after him because their parents honestly just got lazy, and even though Molly didn’t have the name Molly yet, she was still treated like a golden child even though she contributed next to nothing to the family business which yeah that helped her in the long run but to Antonio that’s his number one priority in life. Appeasing his family is what keeps his brain running. And with that, seeing this random kid show up, get named after you, and be treated so much more leniently than you were AND he’s practically your problem because youre 15 hes like fucking 3 years old and your parents are busy all of the goddamn time AND when you DIE you take on the traits of this stupid fucking kid. He has a horrid case of eldest child syndrome and probably some insane identity issues.
This isn’t to say his hatred is only directed at Anthony either, he definitely has his issues with Molly as well, but she kept more to herself and even if she followed Anthony nonstop she was copying what Anthony was doing instead of what he was doing. Copying is the highest form of flattery but flattery gets annoying when everyone cares about the younger “better behaved” version of you. This is one of the biggest reasons Arackniss berates Angel now and in the past. Even though they havent spoken in years, Arackniss still holds Angel to the status of “faggot” because that was practically the only thing he was “worse” than him at. It was the biggest dirt he had on Angel possible to the point that became a genuine used name for him as Anthony “the fag” Benetti. Finding out your angel of a brother is gay during a time where it’s heavily frowned upon, especially by your own family is like a gold mine.
Arackniss is NOT a good person if you couldn’t somehow tell already. He’s homophobic, has a masculinity and classism problem, has little to no regard for other’s well being, and a bunch of other shit. For as distressed as he was over Anthony’s death, a lot of it was because it left their family even more dysfunctional. To him it was Anthony abandoning everyone because they weren’t worth enough to keep him going and then in return he continues to be praised and talked about so wonderfully as if he never did anything wrong “just because he’s dead”.
Thats just BEFORE Arackniss died too! AFTER dying shit got even worse to the extent he ended up even getting disowned! How fun!! This part delves more into Husk and his backstory as well which I think I may save for another time, but these guys know each other and have a lot of beef and also simultaneously are kind of chill in an odd way? By the way, Angel also has the big neck puff, he just shaves it because he doesn’t like the look and like association from trauma
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heich0e · 1 year ago
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[warning: while f!reader is not described with any specific physical characteristics, the child in this fic is described as having inherited all of Megumi’s attributes and none from reader! please read with that in mind, or pass over this fic if not <;3]
All he can think about when he closes his eyes is the phantom memory of your smile from that night in the early spring five years ago, and how it looks just like Kota's.
Megumi tries to let it rest.
Tries not to think about it.
But he can't. Not as more and more memories come back to him from that night—at least, he thinks they're memories. But that's just it, what little bits do flood back are fuzzy and indistinct, and whenever he thinks they're getting clearer he begins to doubt their accuracy. Begins to question whether they're memories, or just something he's made up.
But he really does swear he can remember.
He sent the old man home in a taxi after another round of sake, helping him slump into the backseat of the cab and then giving the driver his address. As the car pulled off into the distance, Megumi breathed a sigh of relief.
He was his wife's problem now, and while he knew he ought to feel at least a little bit bad about that, she was the one who married him.
He shuffled back into the izakaya. Back to the same table he'd just vacated to see his boss off.
He wasn't in his seat for a minute before you approached him again.
"Heading out for the night?" you asked him, still smiling like you were earlier in the evening.
Megumi shook his head no, and you seemed a little surprised. He ordered another beer and you brought it to him quickly. He ordered another before that one was even fully drained.
"You seem to be drinking an awful lot for someone who's celebrating," you remarked as you came to collect his second empty glass, replacing it with another full one.
Megumi shrugged indifferently. "Can't people drink to celebrate?"
You laughed a little, then—though it wasn't really like you found anything funny, more so like you were a bit surprised he finally decided to speak to you beyond placing an order.
"Sure they can," you nodded, "but generally they aren't alone, and they don't look so..."
Megumi shot you a pointed look.
"...glum."
The man at the table picked up his glass and took a long swig.
"The old man was getting ahead of himself," he muttered after he swallowed, the burn of carbonation making his eyes water a bit. "I haven't agreed to take over the business."
You looked surprised at that admission.
"Aren't you gonna?" you asked, tucking your serving tray against your hip a quirking a brow.
He looked at you then, a stranger. A girl he'd quite literally never laid his eyes in his life before that day. And maybe it was the beer, or maybe it was the stress of the situation, or maybe it was how unexpectedly kind you looked. But before he knew it, he'd gotten you up to date with his current predicament, and you were sitting across the table from him with a beer of your own.
"Wow," you said, nodding solemnly. "That's a lot."
And Megumi nodded too, because he agreed.
"Fushiguro-san, can I be honest with you?" you asked him next, a pensive little furrow appearing between your brows as your head tilted to the side. It was sort of cute, Megumi thought then, like a puppy. He had an unwelcome inclination to reach out and smooth the crease with the pad of his thumb.
He took another sip of his beer and nodded.
"I think you're being kind of silly."
He choked on his drink.
You hid your giggles behind your palm (poorly) as the man across the table from you gasped for breath, taken aback by your unexpectedly harsh remark.
"Sorry, sorry," you said between badly-stifled laughter, "I didn't mean it like that."
"Then how did you mean it?" he rasped, once he finally got through his fit.
You sighed, leaning back in your chair. Your shift was over now, but you still had your apron on, the little knot of the ties appearing as you angled yourself back in your seat. The way you had it tied made the curve of your waist more noticeable, and Megumi forced his eyes away so that they wouldn't linger.
"I just think that you can't see the forest for the trees," you went on to explain. "You tell me that you're worried about the responsibility of taking over the business, that you're unsure if you're able to do it, but... aren't you already?"
Megumi's lips pursed.
"I just think you're letting the opportunity of a lifetime, the kind of situation that so many people would kill for, pass you by. How much more qualified could you be for this? You already work there every day." You smiled at him, that same wide smile that you'd been sharing with him all night. The one that made his stomach pang in a strange way. It was a little tipsier than it had been earlier, because you'd had your fair share to drink too, but it was just a bright as ever.
Megumi hummed. You might have been right about that.
"I'd kill for something like that land in my lap," you sighed, a little rueful. "I'm gonna be joining the rat race once I finish college, fighting for the same terrible jobs as all my classmates in the corporate world."
"What are you studying?" Megumi asked you, watching as you took another sip of your drink.
"Economics," you said with a sheepish smile.
"Really?" Megumi was surprised.
You laughed at his expression. "What, I don't seem like the finance type?"
Megumi felt his nose scrunch up a little as he mulled over his reply—a tell-tale sign he was about to lie, as Yuuji and Nobara had once pointed out to him.
"Actually, I don't wanna know the answer to that!" you cut him off before he could answer, giggling a little to yourself. "I'm looking forward to it though. I can't wait to get a real job. Make real money."
"Pay real bills," Megumi supplied dryly.
"That too," you quipped back with a smile, and he snorted at your flippant attitude.
It went quiet then, just two strangers on either side of a table they weren't meant to share in the first place. Your eyes dipped low, and you played with your fingers to avoid his gaze—which for some reason he couldn't seem to direct anywhere else.
"What about you, Fushiguro-san?" you asked him softly, peeking up at him through your lashes.
He made a little sound of confusion waiting for you to elaborate.
"Are you looking forward to something?"
Megumi wet his lips with his tongue, his eyes still trained on you.
"Yeah," he replied breathlessly, his head spinning from the beer and from the way his heart had suddenly begun to pound inside his chest. "I think I am."
He doesn't remember what happened next, at least not in any great detail. But he certainly has his suspicions.
Suspicions he's fairly certain he can support with evidence.
Namely, a little boy called Kota.
But still, this could all just as likely be a misunderstanding. A contrivance that he's crafted in his mind without reason. He tells himself every day that he should just let it go, just forget about it.
Just move on.
But every time he checks on the little baby bunny in its cage at the clinic, growing stronger every day, he can't help but think about the little boy who brought it to him on that rainy night.
And a week after that terrible storm, Megumi pulls on his coat, locks up the clinic for the night, and heads to the nearby izakaya.
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feroluce · 3 months ago
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For reasons to be expanded upon at a later date (because I love the little bits about Boothill and possible paranoia/betrayal canon gives us so very dearly HNGH) I think Boothill like... He won't let himself fall into disrepair or anything of course, but he reeeeeeeeeeally does not like letting other people poke around at his body. It's a necessary evil to him. He does whatever maintenance and repairs he can himself. He started out with a massive knowledge deficit, simply because he didn't really have any exposure to that kind of technology until he left Aeragan-Epharshal, but he's taught himself a lot since then, he worked really hard at it!
Anyway, the point being, Boothill generally isn't super trusting of people.
But I think he would come to make an exception for Himeko, since he trusts Dan Heng a lot, and Himeko is one of Dan Heng's once-in-a-lifetime dearly beloved companions.
Himeko is so unflappable, I don't think she would even bat an eye about anything he throws at her, either. Like she enters the Parlor Car one morning (she's always the first one up) and Boothill is already there, waiting for her.
"Mornin', Madam Navigator."
"Good morning, Mr. Boothill."
And despite the fact that he blatantly broke into the Express (Pom-Pom is NOT happy about this JDKSAJDSKL), Boothill tips his hat, greets her politely, and is nothing but respectful when he says he has a favor to ask of her. Except it won't stay a favor long, of course- he has every intention of paying it back.
Himeko never agrees to things blindly, but she does bring up that all the knowledge Boothill contributed during the Charmony Festival was essential to preventing the universe from being pulled into Ena's Dream. And they were able to hold onto the Jade Abacus because Boothill used Tiernan's burial relic to summon the Galaxy Rangers instead. The Astral Express owes him a debt of gratitude, and besides, he's a friend of Dan Heng's. Of course she'll try to help him.
Boothill fidgets a bit, quickly brushes off the thanks, and tells Himeko he's having a problem with error codes. He keeps getting the same one, seemingly at random times, but the darn thing has no obvious cause. Dan Heng mentioned Himeko had been the one to rebuild the Astral Express. He knows it ain't the same, but it's not like he's askin' for any major repairs or nothin'. He was wonderin' if she could just take a look, maybe offer him some insight, since she seems to be somethin' of a mechanical wonder.
So Himeko walks him back to a another car, where she goes to tinker with machines without them crowding her bedroom. It's all neatly laid out and organized, and it only takes a second for Himeko to locate some specific device with a long cord. Instead of plugging it in herself, she holds the end of it out to him, like an offer rather than a demand, and Boothill visibly relaxes a bit. He still eyes it just a little warily for a second, but he accepts and plugs it into the port on his side.
Himeko pulls up the list of all recent errors, and they really are all the same. Boothill has had multiple temperature alarms over the past couple of weeks since the Charmony Festival, and they know it's not the environment, because Penacony is mostly dreamscape and kept mild year-round. The long-forgotten natural deserts are too far away.
Boothill is staring from the corner of his one good eye, so Himeko turns the hologram to let him see what she's doing easier. They don't appear to be false alarms. His internal temperature spikes and then slowly lowers again, high enough that if it lasted it would eventually cause damage.
One option is for her to start rooting through personal data, figuring out what he was doing at the time of each code, and tracing cause and correlation.
Instead, Himeko reads out the timestamps, and asks Boothill if he minds sharing what was happening around him when it occured.
Two weeks ago: He and Dan Heng went to explore Dreamflux Reef and found a bar- nice place, good atmosphere. Woman runnin’ it was a doll. Boothill left fer not even two minutes to get them drinks (Dan Heng knows like nothin’ about liquor, Madam Navigator, can you believe this guy) and when he came back, someone had already stolen his seat and was hittin’ on Dan Heng! Dan Heng didn't even care, just shooed ‘em off. Boothill laughed and said not to let him get in his way if he wanted to meet someone. Dan Heng looked at him like he'd grown a second head. Why would he want to leave with someone else, when he came here to be with Boothill?
Twelve days ago: While laying low- er, just rustlin’ up some grub- in the Moment of Blue, Boothill passed Dan Heng with March and Caelus playin’ on the beach, buildin’ sandcastles and the like. When he passed by again almost two hours later, they were still out there, with Dan Heng pullin’ March through the water on her inner tube and Caelus hangin’ off the back of it. He swam so fast! You'd think he was part water snake or somethin’. He looked happier ‘n a cat in a sunbeam… He has a nice smile, doesn't he?
Eleven days ago: Boothill was killin’ time in Dreamflux Reef when he turned the corner down a shady alley and saw Dan Heng, surrounded by three men demandin’ “protection money.” None of ‘em stood a chance, they were all on the ground before Boothill even blinked! So cool! Boothill wants to see that spear of his closeup- Anyway, Dan Heng stepped on one of ‘em on his way out, hahaha! Boothill stepped on the same guy a second time as he hurried to catch up.
Eight days ago: Here on the Express, actually. Boothill had mentioned bein’ curious about the archives, and Dan Heng personally invited him.
(“I remember that day, I saw you in the hall.” “Was there any problem with the heating that day?” “No, none. I don't think the temperature has anything to do with these error codes. I have a different theory, keep going.” “If ya say so.”)
Boothill was fascinated by an entry on aeons, and from a single question he asked about Lan, the two of ‘em ended up talkin’ fer hours. About aeons and Paths and Emanators, Acheron and Self-Annihilators, the Sea of Nihility, Tiernan, the Nameless and the Galaxy Rangers, their burial relics and their customs. Dan Heng finally just started writin’ and editin’ the entries in real time, with Boothill pointin’ things out and tellin’ him what to add in. They were at it so late that Boothill ended up sleepin' on a couch in one of the cars.
He'd figured there had to be something to make Dan Heng chatty- he'd caught just a glimpse of it that first night they met, sittin’ at the bar in the Reverie together. He'll have to ask about the archives more often, if it gets him all revved up like that.
One week ago: After that night of energetic discussion, Dan Heng was apparently hyped up, because after he'd downed some of Himeko's coffee (“You had some too, right? What did you think of it?” “It was great, even better'n chewin’ bullets!” "Thank you! That was my newest brew, I can't wait for everyone else to try it.") he actually asked Boothill to go hunting with him. Boothill asked who their target was, and was surprised when Dan Heng pulled out photos that looked like they were from March's camera, of all things, instead of a bounty or wanted poster.
And as he sat there, studying these pictures, Dan Heng explained that he wanted to hunt down these specific memory zone memes to record them into the archives. Planets with so much memoria are a rarity, especially with the Stellaron's activity thrown into the mix, which has surely affected the local “wildlife.” He might not get another opportunity like this for a long time. And Boothill had talked last night about his extensive expertise in tracking and hunting, so he should have plenty to offer here, Dan Heng would like to learn from his experience and see how he does things!
And oh, Madam Navigator, by the time Dan Heng was done speakin', his eyes were practically sparklin'! Just lit up like the sun! Boothill could scarcely believe it! The two of them couldn't even wait another day, they set out that very morning. It had been a long, long while since Boothill had tracked someone- er, somethin’- without the intent to capture or kill. It was…actually really nice. Nostalgic, but in a good way. It might even have been his favorite day on Penacony…so…far…
Boothill trails off as a couple of realizations crash into him. All the temperature alarms he's spoken about thus far- they've all happened in the company of Dan Heng. And now that he's thinking about it, he's pretty sure even the ones he hasn't yet talked about were with him, too. Dan Heng has been responsible for all of his error codes, every. single. one.
The screen in front of Himeko suddenly refreshes to the top of the list, displaying a new notification for the current time. Alert! Core temperature above normal range.
Himeko's knowing smile is sly as a snake.
Wwwwwelp, would ya look at the time, Boothill has some errands to meet, people to run, y’know how it is, he should really get goin'-
“Oh, Mr. Boothill? About that favor.” And Boothill jolts to a stop in the doorway because fudge, he can't just leave without hearing her out. He'd given his word. He has no problem running out on someone he thinks deserves it, but Himeko really had been kind to him to try and help him out. Her voice is just as knowing as her smile, Boothill can't turn around to look at her, or else he knows he won't be able to disguise the sound of his cooling fans kicking on.
“Don't make Dan Heng wait too long, ok~?”
“Y-Yes, ma'am.”
#honkai star rail#henghill#bootheng#Himeko KNOWS abort mission abort!!!#I really love Himeko sorta looking after Boothill the same way she does her crew even if he's not one of them haha. She's so sweet with-#-Dan Heng. She really seems to adore him and wants him to be safe and happy. I think she would be so happy he's found a new friend!#She wants to help this happen!! So get to it Boothill!!!#Was yapping about this fic to Ray and she nearly fucking oneshotted me: 'It's especially funny because we've got a Vidyadhara and a cyborg-#'-they literally have all the time in the world. SHE's the one who wants to be around to see it happen akfbbsbd''#AND JUST. GOD. Himeko knowing that she won't outlive Dan Heng. She's only human. She can't compare to a Vidyadhara lifespan. So she wants-#-to make sure Dan Heng has as many people as possible. She wants to know he'll be taken care of and not be lonely even after she's gone.#Himeko wants to see this important moment in his life happen she wants to be around for it *sobbing*#I'd been wanting to write this for a long time though because for me henghill is all about the little moments. like. they talked so much-#-back and forth in 2.2. they spent so much time together. they get along shockingly well. Dan Heng could have gone almost anywhere to wait-#-for the trailblazer to wake up after defeating Sunday. And instead of anywhere else Dan Heng returned right to Boothill's side. Was still-#-hanging out with him at the Reverie's bar. Still just chattering away. The point is that these two have a strong friendship to build a-#-romance on! They enjoy each other's company! They like spending time together! And I love that! I want to see their mundane nights!!#They'd have such fun dates uweh... They go on a coffee date and miss Himeko's coffee haha#(fun story Boothill's dialogue about Himeko's coffee was originally going to be 'it was uh...an experience. ain't nothin' else like it in-#-the world.' 'thank you!' But then I read Boothill's parlor car dialogue and? it turns out he LOVES Himeko's coffee? go figure ajfldjas)#(afaik he and Dan Heng are literally the only ones. how cute is that haha)#hsr#boothill#himeko#dan heng#hsr boothill#hsr himeko#hsr dan heng#my fics
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sunny-and-moonbow · 4 months ago
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A Small Miscommunication
Tamaki Amajiki x Reader
Word count: 1013
Warnings: language, reader crying, light angst, brief vomit mention, reader is in denial about/ oblivious to their feelings, no resolution to the problem, guilty feelings
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You make your way through the hallways happily on your way, having eaten lunch with a few kids from your class and leaving a little earlier than necessary to avoid the dangers of the pre-class hallways. You round a corner and, at the opposite end, make direct eye contact with Tamaki Amajiki. His expression changes, eyes opening slightly to form an expression that you can’t, and quite frankly don’t want to, decipher the meaning of. You rapidly spin on your heels, darting back around the corner and out the nearest door, opting to take the longer, scenic route to your destination.
You had been friends with Tamaki since your first year at UA, having been paired multiple times for group projects. You wouldn’t say you were all that close, but he was nice, a good friend and easy to talk to. Well, more talk at. He was still pretty quiet around you. Through your group projects with him you met Mirio and Nejire, kind, albeit loud, people. You talk to them sometimes, but being UAs big 3 they're usually pretty busy with various extra responsibilities.
But as of recent days, you’ve found yourself getting more nervous around him, feeling self conscious, looking to him after everything you say and whenever someone makes a joke to see if he laughs. You don’t know why you feel this way, what you do know is that you do NOT like him, not in that way. He's just a friend, a really, really sweet friend…
Tamaki's strength was remarkably admirable, not just his physical strength, but his emotional strength too. He was so dedicated to being a hero, and it made your chest tighten to think about how he truly puts his all into his dream.
Unfortunately, being the quiet person he is, you not speaking as much out of nerves led to you not really talking to each other at all, your small friendship appearing to have ended from an outside perspective.
Lost in your thoughts as you walk to the library for your study period, you almost don’t notice Nejire trailing next to you, having called you from a distance and been blocked out by your internal struggle.
‘[Reader]!! Hiii!’
Same old Nejire, always so energetic. You struggle to look at her in an attempt to show that you were listening as you fight your way through the stampede of students desperately trying to avoid late passes and detentions. 
‘Hi Nejire’
You manage whilst your shoulder gets bashed by a particularly anxious first year. You don’t have your free period with Nejire, nor do you have any plans or any jobs assigned to you with her, so her choice of rushing a conversation in a time of crazed students is an interesting one to say the least. 
You resign to the fact that she probably has something specific she wants to talk about, stopping a few metres short of the library so as to not bother the students inside. She looks a little unsure of herself, which is very out of character for the usually overconfident, bubble of energy. 
‘Is everything okay?’
You ask as the longer she hesitates, the more it makes you uncomfortable.  
‘Uh, well…are you upset with Tamaki? You’ve been avoiding him and he thinks he’s done something to make you hate him.’
Oh shit. You hadn’t considered how your avoidant behaviour would be perceived from his end, only concerned with pushing down the strange feelings and trying to stop him from noticing your change in actions. Guess that backfired pretty hard. 
You know why it’s Nejire to approach you about this and not Tamaki. You know that he would probably never say anything even remotely close to confronting you about your behaviour. You know that if it had continued, you would stop being friends and likely never speak again. Was any of that planned? You wish you could say you were smart enough to think your actions through that far, but no. Every move you had made was a split second reaction, having trained it into reflex at this point.
Now you feel like a terrible person, having put Tamaki through all that, all because of your weird feelings towards him. 
‘...No I..I should talk to him about this, not you. Sorry Nejire, but maybe you should go to class.’
You turn without waiting for a response, not in the mood to be chewed out for hurting one of her best friends. 
‘Hey [reader]?’
You stop in place at how quiet and soft her voice is.
‘Tamaki may be quiet but he’s a nice guy and he means well..just, please don’t hurt my friend’
And with that she was gone, leaving you standing alone in the now vacant halls, silence allowing your thoughts to overtake you. As you feel tears well up in your eyes at the whole situation, guilt at your actions and discomforted bile in your throat at the vulnerability of having to speak to him about this, to explain why you’ve been such a dick. 
You let yourself out the nearest doorway, hoping the air would be able to calm you, panicked laughs leave your lips as you sob, emotions pouring out in a small, hidden section behind the library section. 
When you finally calm yourself enough to think straight and breathe properly, you wrack your brain for why you’ve been feeling and acting this way. You reckon you kinda need a reason for when you apologise to Tamaki, would be a pretty shitty one without it. 
You think about the tightness in your chest when you talk to him, how lightheaded you get when he smiles that gorgeous smile of his in his few moments of unconscious relaxation. You think about how strong he is and how amazing he looks when he fights. You think about how loyal and trusting he is to his friends, how no matter how many obstacles he faces, no matter how much ridicule he receives, he never ever gives up. 
And, holy shit
Do you…like Tamaki?
Fucking hell. 
You like Tamaki. 
-sunny🧡🌞
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